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kirishimas-manly-eyeliner · 3 years

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➶ WHAT MAKES THE MHA BOYS BREAK (PT. 2)

pairings: mirio togata, tenya iida, katsuki bakugo, aizawa shota, tomura shigaraki, dabi, hawks, mashirao ojiro, tamaki amajiki

warnings: hinting anxiety/anxiety attacks, reverse comfort, also tamaki’s made me cry so have fun lmao

part one with mezo shoji, tokoyami fumikage, hanta sero, izuku midoriya, shoto todoroki, eijiro kirishima, denki kaminari, hitoshi shinsou here!

WHEN YOU COMFORT THEM THE MOMENT THEY BREAK DOWN: MIRIO TOGATA, TENYA IIDA, KATSUKI BAKUGO

MIRIO TOGATA

there was no way that mirio was completely fine after everything that had happened to him

he had lost his quirk, experienced a battle that could result in permanent trauma, and he lost nighteye-- the leader and hero that he had looked up to for so long

but when you told him that it was okay to be strong all the time, mirio had broken

he broke for the first time in what felt like years

“don’t worry a-ahbout me!”

the saddest part about it?

he was smiling through his tears not even a few moments after his grin broke

his lips were trembling, his eyes were red and his entire body was shaking with suppressed sobs, but he had an unwavering smile.

and that... that was heartwrenching to look at.

his smile fell, his body trembled and he let out a strangled sobbut for some reason, this-- none of it had shown a single trace of weakness. it was a way of him to express very human emotions and reactions as everyone else could.

he wasn’t disappointing nighteye in anyway-- more of showing respect by letting it all out to be able to show genuine smiles in public

how come such human emotions were labeled as good or bad?

“i let him down,” mirio gasped, “i let him down, i hurt him, i could have saved him, and-”

“hey, it’s okay, you’re going to be okay. it’s just me baby, it’s just me,” you cooed as you wrapped your arms around him. “shhh, it’s just me. you’re okay.”

mirio’s hands trembled as he gripped tight onto you

his chest was getting tighter as he burst into struggled breaths. he was just so... tired.

a million thoughts zipped through his head at once, but he just had to calm the storm for a while in your arms

TENYA IIDA

it was right after the accident in hosu city, and everything, everything had gone wrong

even though he didn’t show it at first, he felt used as an advertisement for hatsume, and then losing in a battle with todoroki and felt like he was thriving on dumb luck

he just wanted to make his brother proud, that was-

-if he could, anymore.

he felt so weak for letting himself feel this way, his head racing and chest heaving as he struggled to breathe

letting your guard down will just make things worse. tensei wouldn’t want this.

tenya’s body visibly trembled as he let out a shaky breath in his dorm room, thinking everything over in the darkness

“iida?” you asked, knocking on the door.

immediately, his demeanor changed as he shifted over to a braver face.

“hello, y/n!”

just breathe. they’ll be gone sooner or later. breathe.

“why are you up this late at night?” he asked.

“i was just checking in on you, but i should be asking you the same question, sonic boy,” you grinned, until you noticed his hands trembling.

and for some reason, that hurt you. his face was.. so put together with a brave smile, confident eyes, and his head held up high and posture straight and firm

but when you saw his hands trembling and an odd shifting in his chest, you knew something was up

“are you okay?” you tested the words.

tenya tried. he tried so, so hard to smile and affirm with a confident, “yes!”

but he couldn’t.

“i-i’m not- i’m not sure-,” his voice broke into a whisper.

“i don’t know.”

you melted into a hug next to him as you took a seat. “hey, you can tell me anything, okay? it’s okay not to have your guard up all the time, it’s not weak to show emotion. just- if you want, can you tell me what’s been going on?”

tenya took a shaky breath and pushed up his glasses. “of course, thank you for asking, i will.”

KATSUKI BAKUGO

after his fight with deku, all of the willpower left in him to hold himself together disappeared

katsuki had been exhausted after a long day of fighting, not just physically, but emotionally

he had tried to keep his head high for as long as he could, but the moment he went to his dorm room, he just... broke.

angry tears released and he choked out heavy, strangled sobs as he pounded his fist to the ground in frustration

katsuki cursed towards whoever was there, until he found you standing behind him

he was too tired to argue.

“the fuck are you doing here,” he grumbled.

“is something wrong, 'suki?” you whispered. “i was just coming by to drop off your water bottle, you left it during hero training,” you examined his face. “are you- are you okay?”

he loved you, he really did-- but today just wasn’t a good day. “mn-no,” he managed to say.

his chest was heaving and his eyes seemed to be searching the room, as if looking for an exit.

you noticed the dark circles around his eyes and the way his lips trembled. had he been crying?

you slowly cupped his face in your hands, noses touching as you two shared breaths, inhaling and exhaling together

katsuki was too tired to pull away.

he felt so weak.

you could hear katsuki’s breath shaking but slowly dying in volume as he held him tighter

“hey,” you said softly, brushing your thumb across his cheek. “you’re gonna be okay ‘suki. you’re gonna be okay.”

they’re pitying me.

“this?” you said, holding his bruised hand up and motioning towards his trembling figure. “this isn’t weak.” you said, as if reading his mind. “this is strong. this is brave. being emotionally vulnerable is one of the most courageous things anyone can ever do, and you are so much more than that, m’kay?”

he nodded in response. even though he didn’t express it that well, he thought of it

WHEN YOU PROMISE TO STAY: TOMURA SHIGARAKI, HAWKS, DABI

DABI

everyone shut up i love him

all that he’s ever wanted and asked for in life was for someone to notice him for who he genuinely was, to be free to do whatever he pleased

it was late at night and you two were outside, the moon illuminating in the darkness as you slid against the wall of the city in the back of the building

“anything interesting happen?” you asked, staring up into the moon

the night was young and it had been a rough, terrible day at work for both of you, even though you had separate jobs and shfits-- the only thing that pushed you forward everyday was being able to meet with dabi right after, at exatly 11pm.

sure, you did it every day, and it shouldn’t have been that impactful-- but for some reason, somehow, everything about talking to him was so... exhilerating.

he didn’t reply.

“uhhm,” you shuffled nervously toward him. “dabi, you good?”

he let out a shaky exhale, which was odd.

hold the phone.

no, really, someone hold the phone because it was ringing

“oh, sorry, one sec,” you rushed, hurrying to answer. it was one of your co-workers. “hello!”

“uhuh. yeah. oh, cool... got it, mhm, be right ther-”

you noticed how dabi’s body language immediately changed as he turned around and crossed his arms gently over his chest and stared into the sky.

this really, really wasn’t like him.

something had to be wrong.

“uhm, on second thought,” you said. “does tomorrow at... noon work for you? i have plans. yeah. mhm, sorry not tonight. yep, bye!”

dabi’s eyebrows furrowed, but he didn’t look at you. “who was that?”

“one of my coworker buddies or whatever. they wanted to have a drink with me, but i said no.”

“why’d you say no?” he deadpanned.

“uhhhm, well, you certainly don’t seem very... how should i say this, at your fullest?”

“but why?” dabi said. “you meet with me every day, and going with your friends is probably a lot easier than this. what’s so different about it..?”

you thought carefully as you shrugged casually, gently leaning your head against his shoulder. “if one of my closest pals were down, i couldn’t just... leave them like that. and even though i know you won’t tell me what’s wrong, i just.. i just don’t want you to feel alone, you know? like everyone in your life has left? and i- i don’t want to do that to you.”

even though dabi stayed relatively quiet for the rest of the night,

just know that was the day he fell in love with you.

SHIGARAKI

nightmares were the worst.

for the record, he didn’t get them often, but when he did, and actually reacted to it... they ended up terrible

he gasped, grasping at the air for his mother’s embrace only to be met with nothingness

he clawed at his skin as his breath hitched, trying to control himself

“tomura?” you asked. “...are- are you okay?”

“get away from me,” he trembled. “i’m a... i’m a monster.”

you furrowed your eyebrows in concern. “hey, hey, c’mon. what’s going on-”

“leave me alone.”

his sudden change in tone made you jump as you stepped back and you watched his figure tremble.

“shigaraki.”

“if something’s wrong, don’t sugarcoat it. if something’s wrong, please, for the love of the world, tell me, okay? i just- i just want to see you... maybe..”

“what?” shigaraki deadpanned. “happy? satisfied? content? joyful? you people all want the same thing.”

“hopeful.”

shigaraki looked up.

“i want to see you hopeful, m’kay? so just... please. you don’t need to tell me word-for-word, but-- if you need something, i’m here.”

he was not going to cry. nuhuh. no way. no way was he going to start crying.

you wrapped your arms around him before he cautiously hugged back, letting himself slowly melt into your embrace, his satin gloves against your clothes

“hey. i promise you, i’m never going to be leaving. no matter how much you mess up, no matter how terrible you may feel-- you mean the world to me. please hold on just a little longer.”

HAWKS

it wasn’t supposed to happen until later, when he was actually able to get home and prepare himself for anxious feeling in his stomach to finally settle

but noooo, his mental state really just said yolo

so here he was, reliving his entire childhood with memories that he’d pushed down for so long, about to snap in a matter of seconds

“keigo~!”

your familiar voice rang through his head.

he just wanted to be held by you.

the most beautiful part about being with hawks his that he genuinely didn’t care about his pride around you. he wasn’t insecure of what you thought of him. he didn’t freak out or try to act like he was fine when you were with him, because... why would he need to?

so instead of putting on a brave face and getting scared of your voice as if being anxious was a crime, he melted into it.

“hey angel, i got you some food at the-”

“y/...y/n,” his breath hitched. your voice, that you often said you were insecure about-- was his safe haven. he felt safe when he heard your voice and let himself crumple. he didn’t have to worry about putting his walls up, because it was just you.

beautiful, loving, kind you.

his love was something special that he gave to no one else.

“k-keigo!”

even though you were far from him, your bags in hand and everything, you immediately dropped them and ran to your boyfriend

“hey, hey, baby, what’s going on?”

he stood directly in front of you, his head down and not saying a word.

you let your breathing sync with his as you reached out to hold his hand, when he threw his arms around you before his trembling body was held in your embrace

“-hey,” you said, shocked by the sudden embrace, before you hugged back, slowly, rocking him back and forth. “you’re going to be okay.”

“you don’t have to tell me anything, just-- focus on me,”

“i’m never leaving you, okay? no matter what you do, you’re still going to be my hero.”

and hawks decided on that day that out of anything else in the world, you meant the most to him.

WHEN YOU TELL THEM THAT THEY MATTER: TAMAKI AMAJIKI, MASHIRAO OJIRO, SHOTA AIZAWA

TAMAKI AMAJIKI

useless. useless. useless.

why wouldn’t his stupid quirk activate before? why couldn’t he be more optimistic? why was he always thinking about something else? why couldn’t he ever stay positive and cheery like everyone else?

how was everyone else so strong?

but laying in a hospital bed, in complete silence and vulnerability...

that scared him.

tamaki blinked back the sudden tears that prickled against his eyes-- nuhuh, no way was he about to cry when so many other people had it worse, no way he was going to break down when nighteye was dead, he was not about to cry if mirio could be strong and so many other people had it worse, and-

“tamaki, snap out if it!”

your cold hands cupped his face, as you stared him directly in the eyes. “what are you doing?”

tamaki jumped back at your sudden question. but for some reason, the way you said it wasn’t angrily, more like... a statement? a question? as if you were asking are you okay?

tamaki shook his head. “i don’t... i don’t kn-know..”

get away, get away, get away.

your hands brushed back a hair from his face as you crouched down in front of him, your hands still helping him cool down. they rested gently on his scalp and along his face as you felt his breathing grow uneasy.

“listen,” you began slowly. “i’m not saying you need to tell me what’s going on, but... i just- i have a feeling that you’re not doing okay. and i know that because no one was ever really there for me back then, so if you want to say anything--”

“--i’m here for you.”

tamaki crumpled then as he let the tears fall.

his entire mask shattered as his breath hitched, trying to hold back the sobs but only came out as strangled breaths.

“hey, hey, hey, you’re okay, you’re okay.”

you held up his chin and rocked him back and forth, slowly. “just because other people seem to be going through bigger things doesn’t mean that you should invalidate your problems. if something’s hurting you, that’s enough of a problem to take care of it.”

tamaki began to shake as he suddenly clutched onto you, his body trembling as he nodded.

what would mirio, nejire, nighteye, fatgum-- what would they think of him now?

“whatever is going around in your head right now will all quiet soon, i promise you, ‘mkay?”

“it’s okay. it’s okay. you’re okay.”

AIZAWA SHOTA

“you didn’t eat,” you said, staring at the takeout that was left in its packaging.

you heard shota mumble under his sleeping bag. “i’ll eat after.”

“after what?” you said back from the kitchen.

you weren’t exactly mad at him, you could say-- it was more of disappointment, maybe? concern? he had always been so concerned about his students that he forgot to take care of himself-- no wonder why he was so angry lately.

(and no, it wasn’t his resting face, he was genuinely burnt-out the last couple of days and it wasn’t getting better.)

“shota, come on,” you said softly. “or else i’m taking your sleeping bag away from you.”

aizawa’s head emerged from the bag, the light from the laptop giving a lovely display of his eyebags. “oh?”

he smirked, even though he seemed so drained.

“yes,” you said, pointing your nose up in the air and crossing your arms. “and you better go eat before i take it away.”

aizawa raised an eyebrow, but obliged.

you watched him eat, but he kept his laptop on the table the whole time.

he was looking through the profiles of all his students, and that was-- insane

despite how much had happened to him, he always thought of someone else first, putting everyone else above him.

“you’re going to overwork yourself,” you finally said.

“amazing,” aizawa sighed back. “had no clue.”

“oh, c’mon,” you egged. “you matter too, ya know.”

you noticed how tense his shoulders were, how his gaze was fixated to the screen and the way his veins were protruding from lack of sleep, and how red his eyes were.

sure, most of the time, this was normal-- but you just had this gut feeling that something was wrong.

“i suppose you’re not wrong,” aizawa ventured. “but sometimes, you realize that students make up most of the world. i want them to grow..”

his gaze on the screen broke.

“and for them to know a world of love and kindess, not-- whatever this is.”

you looked at him before wrapping your arms around him and kissing his forehead. “but they have a teacher who works so hard already, and you-- you deserve a break. you’re always working so hard, and you have to remember that you matter, too, okay?”

you smiled sadly. “i need to go to work, but please finish the takeout for me, hmm?”

he never told you this, of course-- but yeah, he thought of your voice every time he wanted to take a break. he never forgot the words you said.

MASHIRAO OJIRO

being forgotten was something that came way too easily for him.

everyone in class 1a was so good at everything-- they all either had good looks, a nice voice, talents, a cool quirk, technique, charisma, and he?

ojiro felt like he didn’t have anything.

but what did it matter, right? being the forgotten one was fine to him, at least. he was able to take time for himself.

...kind of.

he was heading back from ua into the dorms, walking alone when he realized it started to rain.

picking up his bags, he ran, putting them under his shoulders so that they didn’t get wet-- it wasn’t a long walk, but it was a lot to have to run back and make sure everything stayed dry

“wait!”

ojiro turned around to find you, carrying your backpack in the air and waving your arms. “slow-” you panted, “down! god, where’d all the rain come from??”

he chuckled slightly, until he noticed your bag getting soaked, and before he knew it, ojiro called you over and said he could carry your bag

“are you sure?” you asked, in-between breaths. “i doubt you can carry both-”

ojiro laughed and waved his tail like a hand. “i can carry it.”

your face lit up. “thanks! okay, now let’s run back, c’mon.”

you two ran as fast as you could, trying not to slip as the rain began to pour even harder against your backs.

but when you opened the doors to the dorms and your bag was completely dry, ojiro smiled.

(also y’all he’s an underrated king DO Y’ALL KNOW HOW PRECIOUS HIS SMILE IS?? PLS-)

“thanks,” you grinned. “your quirk is actually really cool. not just for keeping stuff dry, but uh, thanks. i appreciate it.”

something inside of him made his heart swell.

“really?” ojiro asked. “do you really- is that true?”

he didn’t want to get his hopes up too quickly, but the way you nodded proudly and affirmed it was something he could never forget.

“yeah!” you said. “just because you’re not flashy as other people doesn’t mean that you’re a plain, boring person, you know that? you’re actually really cool!”

“huh. thanks,” he noted-- and don’t worry, he walked back into his dorm room with a grin on his face the whole time.

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hey bbys! reminder to go take a break and drink some water if you’re reading this! y’all are so amazing and beautiful, and please remember that you’re valid as well. what you did today was more than enough, please remember that!! i’m very proud of you for getting through today. ily <3

qotd, what song reminds you of a fictional character 👀

join my family!

list of family members: @kirishimuhhhhh, @xuxisushi-1, @kirishima-my-beloved, @msminsuga, @farfetchedparanoia, @satis-mangata, @moonhere, @renegadedeca, @viridevi, @cherriiirose <3

☂ requests are open for mha + hq!! ☂

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words-for-holland · 3 years

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Distractions

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Tom and Y/N decide to work in the same room together. The problem...both of them get easily distracted and a whole lotta fluff comes with it.

A/N: Whoa its been awhile but here we are again! Thank you for 1,000+ followers it means the world! Surprises to come 😉

“Hello beautiful.” Tom greets Y/N with a cheeky smile on his face. He quickly pecks her soft cheek as he places his laptop across from his lovely girlfriend, who was currently focused on her work.

She takes a second to look up, returning his smile with a soft one. “Hey, good looking. What’s up?”

“Nothing really. Is it okay if I work here with you? I just want to be close to my girl.”Tom pouts.

Y/N’s heart could burst at the sight and reason he gave. An inaudible “aw” prolonging through her mind...until she quickly realized that there could be some complications with this as a slight frown starts to replace her dimpled smile. “Wait...are you sure?”, she asks. “Dont you have press interviews that require absolute silence? I doubt any of you will want to hear the constant typing in the background.”

“Yeah, your typing is horrendous with those lead heavy fingertips of yours.” Tom teases.

“Well these lead heavy fingertips aren’t leaving anytime soon, so youre probably better off working elsewhere.” She suggests, pointing off to the distance. Tom groans at the idea, using his one hand to put her finger down. He engulfs hers with his, lacing her fingers and holding on tightly.

“Noooo. Dont wanna be anywhere else. Please darling? ” He pouts once more.

She giggles at his plea, rolling her eyes. “Course you can, bubz.” Tom excitedly scoots his chair in as he rubs his hands together to prep for the work to come.

And work they did...for at least 10 minutes. Tom was getting antsy as he read through his next script. Occasionally his eyes would roll to the left, and observe Y/N as she continued to read through an article on her screen. Not that Tom didnt find his own work fun but he always found watching Y/N do her thing just a bit more interesting.

He hadn’t realized himself, but his body start to shift and lean more towards her. His arm extending to wrap her in, as it glided up and down in a steady motion. His thumb doodling hearts on her shoulder. Tom could tell it had an effect on Y/N, discreetly smirking to himself as he heard her audible shakey sigh.

He wanted to see what else could make her sigh like that, so instead of his thumb he used pointer and middle finger, running them up and down her shoulder. Tom could see the smile creeping on Y/N’s face and her little head shake. She knew what he was up to and yet, Y/N still wanted him to think that he was not gonna get her that easily. But God was it hard. Every touch felt like tiny fireworks against her skin, goosebumps forming all over her body with every touch. She to stay strong. No distractions.

Tom eyes perked up, at the action. He must go further, he thinks. Tom starts to trace his nose from her shoulder to her neck, leaving kisses at her jawline. “C’mon darling. Think its time for a break.”, he whispers in her ear.

She turns her head towards him as she smiles, leaving a quick kiss on Tom’s lips. “Its only been ten minutes.” She laughs. “Five if you want to count the distractions.”

He backs up, pretending to look appalled. “How dare you. I’ve been a good lad focusing on my script for the whole ten minutes.”

A playful glare formed on Y/N’s soft face which ultimately ended her up with a fit of giggles. She couldnt take him seriously, but then again she never did with anything. Tom has always said if they were kidnapped by a pair of robbers, her first reaction would be to laugh. As the laughter died down, Y/N paid her attention back to the screen which had been inactive during the playful banter and continued to type out those set of documents that she had been meaning to get to.

Tom on the other hand was still reading through his script, taking mental notes on how he was going to approach his character. This time he was completely engrossed in his work. His eyes moving left to right with every line he took in. Until...he felt something ticking his lower calves. Tom knew it was Y/N’s foot, by the way it brushed just as he had done with his hand on her shoulder. The movements never stopped, her legs now curling around his own. Y/N was trying to getting back at him, but one thing she always forgot was that Tom always wins.

Naturally he had to the same, and what once became a playful game of footsie, now ended up with Tom shifting Y/N to sit on his lap. Her legs now wrapped around his waist and his hands holding onto her hips. Both of them connecting their soft lips, feeling every spark and essence of love. He looked up at Y/N with admiration, thinking how lucky he is to have her in his life. Yeah Covid sucked for the most part and limited their ability to even do anything exciting outside, but it gave them the opportunity to be with each other far more than they could have on a normal day. On a normal day, Tom would be jumping around country to country while Y/N would be home miles and miles away from him. Course, nothings changed with jumping from country to country, but Tom gets to bring Y/N with him now and thats all that mattered to them.

But work never stopped them from keeping busy. Just as their kisses were getting more heated, and their hands tangling each others hair both their alarms went off. The couple stopped their antics as they leaned their heads back, groaning in synchronization.

“Ughh. Thats my cue. I have to prep for an interview.” He mumbles as he nuzzles into Y/N’s neck.

“I know. I have to get ready for another business meeting. Whoo.” she speaks in a sarcastic manner, dropping her head.

“What time?” He asked pressing a kiss to the shell of her ear.

“Mm...3. Why?”

Tom plays with the strands of her soft hair. “Was wondering if you’ll stay with me through mine and Ill stay with you through yours.”

“As much fun as that would be. I dont think were allowed to —“

“Im not saying we have to be on camera for each others meeting. But if one of us will be off camera itll be all right.” He plans, still looking at his girl with pleading eyes. Y/N’s mouth twitches to the left, her eyes furrowed with suspicion.

“You’re doing it again.” Tom states, a small chuckle escaping his lips.

“Doing what?”

“You’re making that face again.”

Her expression quickly changes to confusion, not entirely sure of what Tom was noticing that she didnt about her own face. “What face?”, she asks.

“The one where you twitch your lips and make your eyes look angry. You only do it when youre indecisive about something. Its bloody adorable.”

Y/N snorts at his comment, and tries to get off to give him time to prepare, only to be stopped by his hands pushing her back down on his lap.

“I was serious about wanting to stay with my girl the whole day while doing work. Please?” He pleads again, this time bringing out the puppy face. “I’ll be good and do the dishes tonight.”

To be fair, Y/N knew she was always gonna say yes to Tom. Its pretty hard to deny her dorky boyfriend when hes asking so sweetly and just wants to spend the day together. More so, if the roles were switched, she would have done the same thing. “Go get changed movie star, before youre late for your interview.” She murmurs to him, kissing his cheek before she scrambles of his lap to sit across from him.

Tom whoops with victory as he runs out the room quickly changing into his shirt, fixing his hair, and adding glasses for that sophisticated touch. Sure he wanted to look his best for the Cherry Press, but he made sure his outfit was something Y/N would very much adore as well.

“How do I look?” Tom asked coming out of their shared bedroom.

Y/N looks up from her computer, and smiles widely. “Handsome as always.” She couldnt take her eyes off of him, admiring every detail of the clothing and how it perfectly complimented Tom’s feature. She eyed him from top to bottom, until she noticed something. “Uhh..honey....you’re not wearing any pants.” She asked a bit confused. Her eyes engrossed in the muscles of his thighs and the fit of his Calvin Klein boxers.

Tom smirks at her. “Its uncomfortable wearing pants. Besides no one will see...except you.” He teases, gently lifting her head up so that her eyes meets his. “Eyes up here love.”

“Youre something else.” She laughs, feeling the heat rise in her cheeks. “Well...least we know who wears the pants in the relationship.”

Tom laughs loudly at her comment. He hooks the waistband of Y/N’s sweatpants and snaps them back to further prove her point. “That was a good one. Ill give you that.” Tom and Y/N high five each other, and then it was press time.

Y/N kept quiet and tried her best to minimize the typing unless it was really needed. Seeing Tom talk about his work and dedication was something that she had always admired about him. He loved his job and everyone can see that. Occasionally they’d steal glances from each other, smiling and holding each others hand under table so that no one could see. But it was just one of those moments that Tom and Y/N couldnt help themselves too. Two hours passed and Tom was free.

“You did so well.” Y/N praised Tom and awarded him with a quick kiss. “I love it when you talk about your passion.”

“Thanks. I love that you were there with me to sit through it all.” He smiles. “I believe its your turn now. It’s almost 3.”

Y/N frowns, knowing shed have to dread through hers. Instead of getting to talk about her passions, itd all be about business, business, business. “Ugh. Do I have to?”she groans.

“Come on now. Dont be like that, you’re gonna be fine. Ill be here with you the whole time.” Tom reassures her with kisses all over her face.

“No distractions?” She asks.

“No distractions.”

#tom holland #tom holland imagine #tom holland x reader #peter parker #peter parker imagine #peter parker x reader

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jackrrabbit · 3 years

Text

cooking at 3am /// Osamu x f!Reader

Request: Imagine cooking together with Osamu at 3am because neither of you could sleep (or because ‘Samu got the midnight munchies lol). You don’t have anything specific in mind; you’re just playing around and feeding each other little bits of what you make.

A/N: bruh you said munchies and my mind said [[ h i g h o s a m u ]] sorry this went in a kinda different direction? but still fun 3am cooking project vibes :P

Tag/warnings: fluff, light drug use (weed), you and Atsumu are lowkey Bros™️, Osamu's kinda baby 🤧

Osamu’s not good at smoking.

He doesn’t really know how to inhale—you know, hold it in his lungs so it can soak in or whatever—and when he does, he coughs. Except he tries to repress the coughs. Even if he wants to hide it, he’s always close enough to you that you can feel his chest moving from trying not to cough when he takes a hit.

And also, like every baby smoker, he can’t really tell when it’s kicking in until he’s off the deep end.

“Can you feel it yet?”

“No.”

You shoot Osamu a glance where he’s sitting on the ground in front of the couch, watching a nature documentary on Atsumu’s TV with a glazed-over look on his face. “You sure? Your eyes are super red.”

“I can’t feel it. Give it—“ He holds out his hand and honestly you’re pretty sure he’s had plenty, but it’s Atsumu’s vape so who cares. You hand it over and Osamu holds it up to his mouth and sucks, eyes fluttering closed as the light on the side of the Pax glows yellow.

God, he looks hot when he does that. Something about a hot guy smoking, yeah? Actually, no. Something about your hot boyfriend smoking.

Except 'Samu holds his breath a second too long and you can see the urge to cough hit him… Wait for it, you think to yourself, and a second later he hacks and wheezes the vapor out in a wispy cloud that reflects silver against the semi-dark. You coo in sympathy and pat his back. “Want some water?”

Osamu shakes his head, hand over his mouth to stop the coughing. On the tv, David Attenborough talks about penguin courtship rituals and Atsumu (who’s been draped on the couch next to you for the past few hours) gives a light little sigh in his sleep. You check the time. 3am. Bedtime. Too bad you and 'Samu are both too high to drive home…whoops. Guess you’re spending the night at Atsumu’s place.

Osamu rubs his bloodshot eyes like they’re itchy, which they probably are. “Hey, can we— uhh… Do we have pancakes.”

“Pancakes, babe? You mean the ones you made for breakfast?”

“Yeah, there’s leftovers…I made you extra and you didn’t want them.” He twists around and gives you an incredibly dirty look, like this is something you did on purpose to hurt his feelings. “If you don’t want them I’m going to eat them.”

“Wait, 'Samu—“ But Osamu's already getting up off the floor to wander over to the next room. You debate pausing the show—it’s a really good scene—but you leave it going for Atsumu's sake because you’re pretty sure the narration is the only thing keeping him asleep. He’s kinda drooling on your shoulder and you have to push him off to go follow your boyfriend to the kitchen.

“What is all this stuff? Ugh…” Osamu's pawing through the fridge. There’s a lot of crinkling, plastic sounds—you catch a glimpse inside and all of the shelves are stacked up with plastic bags and styrofoam containers.

You yawn and hop up to sit on the kitchen island. “Takeout? I don’t think he cooks.” Atsumu's going to get a lecture tomorrow for keeping 2-week-old Indian food in his fridge. God knows you heard it way too many times before you and Osamu moved in together. You don’t envy 'Tsumu.

Osamu sits down in front of the fridge, fumbles with a drawer, and pulls out a bag of moldy grapes. “Gross…who lives like this…”

You snicker into your hand.

“I can’t find the pancakes.” 'Samu's pulling the plastic drawers all the way out now, setting them down on the floor as he inspects the contents of the fridge.

“They’re not here.”

“You ate them?”

“No, I— Hey, put those back in,” you tell him helplessly as he shuts the door of the fridge, ignoring all the leftover food he took out. Yeah, half of it was probably off anyway, but Atsumu's gonna be pissed if he wakes up and there’s takeout going bad all over his kitchen floor.

“You threw away my pancakes?” Now the look on Osamu's face is utter betrayal. He stands up off the floor and glares sulkily at you. “I made those for you…”

“I didn’t throw them away, they’re—“ You hold back a laugh and wish you had your phone on you (where did it go?) so you could take a picture. He’s so cute when he smokes. “—they’re at home.”

“At home?”

“Yep, at home. The place where you and me live, remember?”

“Oh.” Osamu pauses, reaches out absently to grab the edge of your sleeve. You’re wearing one of his hoodies. “We’re not at home?”

“Nope. We’re at Atsumu's place,” you tell him through a giggle.

He plays with your sleeve, contemplating. “Why?”

“Because we’re out of weed and he said he’d smoke us out. And we like hanging out with him.”

“Oh. We do?”

“Yes.”

“…’Kay.” It takes Osamu a second to accept this, but then he nods seriously. “(Y/N), I'm hungry.”

“I know. What do you want to eat? You could probably have any of that stuff, I don’t think he’ll miss it.”

'Samu thinks about it for a moment, scanning the array of takeout containers spread out across the kitchen floor. “I want pancakes.”

“The pancakes are at home, remember?”

“Yeah…” Osamu flips over his grip on your sleeve and traces his thumb down the lines in your palm. “I could make some?”

More pancakes? “I don’t think 'Tsumu has eggs, babe. Or flour. Or…baking soda?” You’re not really sure what ingredients go into pancakes. Whatever cooking skills you possessed pre-Osamu have deteriorated significantly since you moved in together and he took over any and all food preparation for your household.

He pouts at this, and his hair is a little messed up, and he’s so pretty that you can’t stand how much you like him in that second. Mine mine mine, something in the back of your brain says. He’s mine.

You reach up and Osamu obediently ducks his head down so you can smooth his hair back into place and fix the bits that are flipping over his part. “Is there anything else you want to eat?”

“Onigiri.”

“Oh…” Well, at least Atsumu probably has rice. “Sure. Ok. That’s your specialty.”

“I want ya to make it for me.”

“What?” You frown and pull your hand out of his. “You know my cooking sucks.”

“No it doesn’t. (Y/N)’s food’s the best.”

“You own an onigiri shop, come on—“

“Please?”

One of his bangs falls back in his eyes and without thinking you reach up to put it in place. “Okay, fine. But you can’t complain about it if it’s not good.”

He smiles and you want to blush. “Yes! I promise.”

So you do it for him. Even though you’re high too. You measure some rice and water into the rice cooker (Osamu has to give you pointers on how much of each to put in) and you scrounge around Atsumu's depressingly bare kitchen for a few sheets of seaweed and some easy fillings. Osamu pulls a stool up to the island counter and rests his chin on his hands so he can watch you with a bleary look of adoration on his face.

It takes you…maybe half an hour to be done? It’s hard to gauge time when you’re high. You and 'Samu both jump when the rice cooker finishes and plays the little rice cooker song, which will remain stuck in your head for the foreseeable future. 'Samu hums it in a loop while you shape the rice into lopsided triangles and wrap the nori around it.

“Here,” you tell him when you set the plate down in front of him. He looks entirely too happy to be eating your mediocre food for someone who literally does this for a living, but who cares.

He picks one, takes a bite, swallows. And blinks.

“What do you think?” you ask in spite of yourself.

“Umm…salty,” Osamu says.

You grab one to try yourself and it’s salty. Like, ocean salty. Yuck. “I told you it would be bad,” you complain, trying to tug the plate away but Osamu grabs it and pulls it back.

“Noooo…it’s good,” he lies, although his face is giving him away. Still, he takes another bite and chews enthusiastically.

“Shut up.” You tug a little harder but Osamu doesn’t let go.

He swallows, pulls a face, and takes another one. “So good. I love it.”

“Shut up. You sound so fake. You’re going to get sick if you eat that.” You keep pulling, but he insists on pretending it’s edible so you admit defeat and help him finish the onigiri off. God, they’re awful. But he keeps eating and so you do too.

When you’re done, your mouth feels dry as fuck and you want to sleep almost as much as you want to drink about a gallon of water. “Is it bedtime yet?” 'Samu asks, wiping his mouth and then rubbing his eyes again.

The clock over the oven says it’s past 4. “Yes. It’s bedtime.”

“Wait—we’re…we’re not at home, right? We’re at 'Tsumu's?”

“Mhm.”

“I prolly drove here…I dunno if I can drive now,” Osamu tells you slowly, like he’s apologizing. “I think I'm kinda high.”

“Oh yeah?” You hold your laugh back and put your hands up on his cheeks. “How do you feel?”

“Dizzy. Blurry? Like…you’re in slow-motion.” His hands come up to layer over yours. “You’re pretty in slow-mo.”

“Prettier than usual?”

Osamu closes his eyes, scrunching them up to think and then looking over your face intently. “Same amount, just slower. So it’s easier to see.”

“That so?” You slip your hands around to drape over his shoulders and get up on your tiptoes to give him a little kiss on the cheek, because he’s earned it. “You know what, I think I'm kinda high too. I think we’re going to have to have a sleepover.”

“On the couch? S’not big enough for us both.”

“You can sleep with 'Tsumu in his bed…or I guess you could sleep on the ground?”

'Samu's mouth twists and his brows draw together. You can practically hear the gears in his mind turning while he considers alternatives. “Can we share the bed?”

“I think Atsumu's gonna want it. It’s his house.”

“But he’s already sleeping.”

True, you can hear Atsumu snoring lightly from the living room underneath David Attenborough’s description of endangered falcons in the Philippine rainforest. You should really wake him up—matter of fact, you should really clean up the kitchen because it’s a huge mess—but 'Samu's already pulling you away. And you’re so sleepy.

“He’s going to be pissed tomorrow,” you tell Osamu through a yawn, but you let him steer you in the direction of Atsumu's bedroom, holding your hand.

“Don’t care…I hate sleeping without you.”

“Yeah,” you say, and you squeeze his hand and he looks back at you like you’re the literal best thing in the entire universe—and you decide you should get him high more often. “Same.”

#osamu miya x reader #osamu x reader #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fluff #haikyuu #hq #hq x reader #hq imagines #hq fluff #haikyuu!!#haikyuu!! imagines #haikyuu!! x reader #haikyuu!! fluff #osamu #osamu miya

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ren-therose · 3 years

Text

Prove Your Mine

Bo Burnham X F!Reader (WC: 2.5k)

Summary: Bo is being interviewed when he sees another guy bothering you. Though you handle it, he still wants to prove to you that no one else can have you.

Warnings: My most graphic smut so MINORS DNI. TW: inappropriate sexual misconduct in the workplace. oral sex f receiving. penetrative unprotected sex. maybe a little on the breeding side. possessive bo

A/N: As I said, my most graphic fic, so be warned. I have other bo content that doesn't get as detailed (though still very descriptive), and they can be found here. Comment, like, share, yadada, you all know the drill.

Thank you to the two requests that inspired this piece! They are linked here and here if you're curious.

---

Behind the glass of the recording room, you leaned back as Bo worked his boyish charm as the interviewer continued to ask question after question. It wasn't often that you were able to join Bo, especially since you were doing a lot to provide for yourself with our own career (it was that ambition that drew him to you in the first place). When your schedule allowed you to join him for a press day, you couldn't help but jump on top of him and give him the biggest hug you could muster. Meetings with Netflix, a few magazines and a nice lunch in LA, you were now enjoying the way he lit up talking about the work he does for this radio show.

You leaned back in the office chair, leg crossed over the other, with your foot bouncing. You arms were perched on the sides of the chair, showing off you black blouse and blue jeans that matched him. Your hair was half up and half down, casual, but still nice. Bo never got tired of how you looked so good all the time: when you wake up next to him, when you come home from work after a long day, or being sick in the bathroom while he holds your hair back. He also loved that you made an effort to match, down to the high tops you wore.

"Yeah no, I love making my own content, because who the fuck else is gonna understand what I go through? So I throw the comedy back in their faces, trying to get them to see the tru-what? Oh shit, I can't say fuck? OR SHIT??" Bo eyes widen and he collapses back into his chair, hands gripping his hair. "Jesus christ, I wish I had known before, I'm sooo so sorry, can we keep going?"

You laugh, as the interviewer explains that anything more than two fucks will make the show R-rated, so he needs to watch it. As you smile, making eye contact for a brief second, the door behind you opens and man is standing next to you, leaning against the tabel as he stares at your boyfriend.

"Is this that fucking comedian from like, 2010 or some shit?"

You uncross your legs and spin to face this asshat face on. "What did you just say about him?"

The man's eyebrow quirks up, raking his eyes over you with a smirk. "Oh, I'm sorry, are you a fan? I didn't mean to offend you; I just thought someone as pretty as you would have better taste than a washup musici-"

You launch out of your seat and plant yourself between the man and the window.

"Already, I don't know who the fuck you think you are, but you have a lot of your information. Maybe do some research on the people who are going to be working with you" you say, jabbing a finger into the man's chest, pushing him slightly as you sit back down, softly letting out a string of insults under your breath.

The man looks surprised, and also impressed. You glance at Bo, whose brow was furrowed.

Shit, he must have seen that. You think to yourself.

You give him a thumbs up and a big smile as he looks back at the interviewer, continuing on. Your cheesy grin drops and your arms cross as the man leans back against the desk to stare at you once more.

"Usually, I'm not into a woman who is so in control-"

"How surprising," you interject, rolling your eyes.

"Aha. But, your bossiness is highly attractive..."

He leans forward, eyes landing on the open buttons of your shirt before coming back up to your face.

You scoff, "As appealing as it is to lie and say I'm single and simple don't want to go out with you, I actually have a boyfriend I love and isn't a dick, so I won't be leaving him anytime soon."

With that, you roll away from him to look at Bo. He is laughing, slapping his leg and running his hands through his hair. You could tell he was probably reaching his limit, and move to the intercom connected to the earpieces he and the interviewer had. As you press the button, the douchebag in a suit leans over your shoulder, brushing the hair off your neck and leaning down to your ear to whisper "but could he fuck you like I could?"

Your finger flies off the button as Bo's jaw drops at the words filling his head. Before he can even get out of his seat, you are grabbing the man by his lapels and pushing him against the nearest wall.

"Listen, you little bitch-ass, sexist, predatory fuck," you reach down and grab the man by the crotch, twisting his balls and dick in your fist, "first, you're gonna apologize to me. Second, my boyfriend just saw all of that, so you get to deal with that and apologize to him as well. Then, you're gonna go tell your manager that I want to speak to her, and if you even attempt to twist (as you squeeze him tighter) the truth, remember the two other witnesses who heard what you said."

The mans face was beet red as sweat dripped down his temple. He was barely breathing, afraid to move. "Answer me, fucker!"

"Yes! Yes!" he cries, a single tear falling from his eye.

"Good!" you say cheerfully, letting go of the man's junk. Just as he tries to scurry away, you grab his arm and say "by the way, it's kinda small, you might need some kind of enhancer because I wasn't impressed at all."

The man looks like he might explode, but rather than risk castration, he practically runs out the door.

"Uhh, do you think she's got it" you hear a voice say over the speaker.

You eyes widen as you realize the mic was on the entire. time.

Bo raises his eyebrows, a clear code for "da fuck babe?"

"Yeah. She's got it. Are we done here?"

When Bo exited the booth, you were sitting with your face in your hands, embarrassed by the altercation that everyone just heard and saw.

"Hey Dick Crusher," he mocks, coming to pull you up.

"Noooo, please don't say that Bo," you whine, standing up, allowing him to wrap his arms around you and deliver a bear hug.

"Oh no, that is never going away. That was incredible. Did you get that from Deadpool?"

You pull away to look up at him and reply, "how did you know?"

"Because every guy in the movie theatre collectively groaned at just the idea of being manhandled that way," he said with a shudder, turning to put his arm around you as you both exited the room.

"You're not mad?"

Bo stops and turns to you, surprise etched on his face. "W-why would I be mad at you babe? It's not like you enabled him. He was eye-fucking you the minute he walked in the room."

You look down, reaching to button your top to cover your chest a little more.

"Hey, babe, you don't have to do that. He just needs to learn to noT BE A PERV!" Bo yells down the hall. You laugh, wrapping your arm around his waist as you leave the building.

---

You get back to your place after a ride that consisted of talking about how weird the recording booth smelled and that they guy wanted to interview after that 'horrifying and impressive' tiff.

When you get inside, Bo goes in to put down your purse and keys on the table as you pull off your shoes by the door. Leaned over, your hair falls to the side and your shirt gapes away slightly, allowing your boyfriend to see the soft slopes of your breast. As you go to stand up, Bo stalks towards you, trapping you between him and the door.

"Uuhh, hi?" you say nervously. You still got butterflies around him, even after knowing him for so long.

Bo reaches up to your top, unbuttoning your top one slowly, pulling it away from your chest as he goes to the next one. Instead of undoing the button though, he drops his hands down to your ass, patting you gently before lifting you up the door. You are now level with him as he goes back to your buttons. His breath is warm against your neck, much more comforting than that creep could have ever been.

"Are you thinking about the way he breathed on you?"

The hairs on your neck stood up as he read your mind, moving to the third button now.

"Hm? You want to answer that?"

You breath out softly, wrapping your fingers in his hair as you reply, "nothing feels like you Bo. Only you can make me feel good..." you whisper, leaning your head back against the door as he continues to ghost over your neck. He has finished unbuttoning you and was pulling the top away to reveal your bra and abdomen.

"You got that right." He plants a wet kiss on the crook of your neck, causing you to gasp loudly. "You're fucking mine."

You pull him by the hair so that you can see his eyes as you say the next two words: "Prove it."

The next thing you know, you're being thrown on the bed as he attacks your mouth, tongues battling for dominance. His knee is between your legs as you grind against him, trying to find relief in the friction he granted you. He moved from your lips to your jaw, under your neck to your collarbone. He is marking each place his mouth lands, littering hickeys and love bites like it was the only way to claim you.

You moan, arching your back into his mouth, giving him the opportunity to slip his hands underneath you and unclasping your bra. Once it is thrown somewhere in the room, he attacks your breast, assaulting your nipple with his tongue while his hand squeezes your ass.

"He fucking stared at my tiddies," he mumbles into your chest, causing you to laugh. He pulls off of you and stares with concern and annoyance.

"Uh, I'm pretty sure they were my tiddies," you smirk, shimming your chest in his face.

"Nope. Your tiddies are my tiddies." He bites your nipple softly, causing you to cry out as the throbbing between your legs increased.

"God, Bo, I''m yours, I'm all yoouurrs..." you groan, running your hands through your own hair, pushing it out of your face.

Bo continues to make his way down your body, reaching your jeans with frustration. He sits up and unzips your pants before shimming you out of them, panties and all. Before he goes down, he removes his shirt and pants, giving you the chance to admire the man that you loved.

"And all of that is mine," you growl.

"That's fucking right," he says before diving between your legs. The time to tease is gone, all he wants is for you to be in tears over what he can do to you.

You're breathing is shallow as he runs his tongue through your folds over and over, the wet friction on your clit driving you crazy. One hand in his hair, the other gripping your breast, you feel yourself reaching the a high.

"Bo don't stop, I'm gonna cum, you're gonna m-make me c-c-OH!"

You're arching into his mouth before you can finish your sentence, his arm holding you in place as you ride out your high...on his face.

As you try to catch your breath, Bo sits up, revealing his painfully hard and dripping cock.

"I'm gonna take that fucking pussy and remind you of why it's mine," he mutters, almost more to himself than you. He wasn't the jealous type, but the way that guy had tried to manhandle you in front of him? It pissed him the fuck off.

He pumped himself a few more times before lining up at your entrance. You prop yourself up on your elbows to look at him and you, just barely connecting.

"Show me Bo. Make me yours."

That statement was all the encouragement Bo needed as he slid into you, taking his time to really stretch you out. He was big, and you were filled by his cock, in ways you had never been before. You could feel him in your stomach if you pressed your hand bellow your naval.

The feeling made you weak and your elbows gave as you collapsed against the bed.

"Always so tight for me. So wet. And it's all for me, no one else," Bo whispers, beginning to slowly rock his hips as he moves inside of you. Your body reacts, contracting around him, causing to twitch.

"Hey, I won't last if you squeeze me like that," he pants, already feeling like he could paint your inner walls with his load.

You pull his face down to yours, kissing him gently before stating: "show me what no one else can do."

Bo's hips snap into to you, causing a sharp gasp to escape you. He continues to rail you into the mattress, barely able to completely sheath himself inside of you because of his size. You moan as you reach behind you to grip a pillow, pulling it over your face as you take him with each thrust. You finally throw the pillow and open your eyes to see him holding your thighs as he slams into you relentlessly.

The site of that alone would have made you cum had it not been for the fact that he just so happened to slide his hand down to your already sensitive bud and tweak it in circles. You cry out, tears filling your eyes at the stimulation.

"Bo, I need you to come inside me, please, make me yours baby, I need your cum inside me..."

Bo's eyes roll into the back of his head but he returns his focus to watching your face scrunch at the beginning of your climax.

"Cum for me baby, I'll cum inside you, just squeeze my co-oh, yes, just like that baby, fuck"

You let out a short scream before biting your wrist, your head pulling back as you cream his dick, pulsating and throbbing around him as he spills into you, warm and sticky as he fills you.

"You're mine Y/n. All mine baby," he grunts, bucking into you a few more times as he rides out his high.

---

Both showered and clean, you were cuddled in bed together, your legs in his lap as he rubbed your feet and you played with his hair at the nape of his neck.

"So he was really trying to diss me like that? Why would they invite me if they don't fucking like me?"

You laugh, shaking your head as you reply, "I know, right? It was awful, and who treats a guest like that? Such a creep."

"Hey."

"hey."

"Thanks for standing up for me."

"I love you Bo."

"I love you more, Y/N."

----

A/N: Now this, this was my most graphic fic yet, jesus. I hope you enjoyed- feel free to send in some more requests or suggestions. I like the feedback and reading your comments and reblogs! Bo Burnham masterlist and TAGLIST linked here.

Lots of love and don't forget to pee, wash your hands and clean your toys.

Taglist: @allexthakatt @shes-a-killer-queen-39 @ginger-abreu @dreamingofwolves @beeblisss @toread-fic

@mid-sommared

#bo burnham #bo burnham x y/n #bo burnham jealousy #jealousy #oh bo #bo yo #bo's hoes #bo burnham smut #bo burnham fanfic #smut writer #reblog plz

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wonder-kid-pugh · 3 years

Text

Karma's a bitch - (Emily Sonnett x reader)

This one is slightly different. Reader is a YouTuber with a popular channel called On The Wildside. The chapter switches behind let's say "real life" and then to "recorded clips". So it might be a bit weird and difficult but hopefully it makes sense. Hope you enjoy!!!

"What! Is! Up! My Wilders! Welcome back to the Wildside" I say my intro as I hold up my camera to record myself. I smirk as I spin around as I continue, "And for today's video you are going to see me get my revenge on my girlfriend!"

Along with being a personal trainer for high paying clients, I also run a popular lifestyle and fitness Channel on YouTube which had amassed over a million followers. I usually posted fitness videos and just daily lifestyle vlogs along with soccer challenges with the occasional prank video. It was through my channel I had actually met my girlfriend.

I had gotten in touch with the Portland Thorns to do a video with them for my channel as part of a series I had started, aiming to play all of the NWSL teams in a series of challenges. And she just happened to be one of the players involved in the video.

She was also the one who hit me in the back of the head with a miss kicked soccer ball.

And that's how I met Emily Sonnett.

After that day we kept in touch and with me going to watch her games with the thorns and even meeting up again to do a few more videos with the national team until she eventually asked me out, with much persuasion from her teammates.

And now we have been together for a long time just managing with the long distance. Until she got traded to Washington. And while she was sad to not be at the thorns, on the upside we got to move in together.

Which had both it's positives and negatives.

"So if you have seen the most recent videos or even my Instagram posts. You will know that Em has kinda gone mad with the pranks lately. She got me at Christmas with wrapping my entire office with wrapping paper".

*Emily fumbles with the camera before it eventually focuses on her face*

She gives the camera a toothy smile, "Hey guys!" She starts to walk around causing the camera to blur slightly but can just make our the main image. "So obviously Y/n isn't here today. She's out with a client at the moment and won't be back until later. So I decided to help her get into the Christmas spirit with a little prank".

Flips the camera to show Y/n's office. "So with the help of a few friends" .

*pans the camera to show Kelley and a few other teammates*

"We're going to wrap everything in her room with wrapping paper!"

*Time lapse fast forwarded to show them wrapping her entire room*

"So Y/n is after texting me saying she'll be home soon and she is bringing me dinner which almost makes me feel bad". Emily pauses and looks down the camera, "Almost". She grins at the camera, "So I'm going to set up one of her cameras in her office to film her reaction and yeah hopefully she's like it". She cackles before it transitions to the next clip.

*Shows a clip of Y/n walking into her office only to freeze in the doorway when she sees the room*

Y/n throws her head back with a groan, "Emily!" You can hear the sound of Emily laughing in the background before she appears in the doorway with a wide grin across her face.

"Merry Christmas!" The blonde giggles as Y/n picks up a book that was wrapped. Y/n quirked an eyebrow at her, "You got me everything I already own?" The camera shakes slightly due to her nodding and laughing, "You get the gift of opening them all over again?" Y/n sighs before she spots something spherical over the in the corner.

"You wrapped my exercise ball? How?"

"With great difficulty"

Y/n licks her lips too tired to even argue. She tears off the wrapping paper off the chair before sitting down. She groans with her head in her hands before looking up at the blonde holding the camera.

"I hate you so much"

"I love you too".

She slumps in her chair as she looks around the room. "I'm too tired to do anything about this" . She glares back at the blonde, "Why would you even do this?" "Cause I love you?" In response to that Y/n scrunches up the wrapping paper into a ball and throws it at her.

"I'm still pissed at her for that by the way. She used all our wrapping paper and it took me forever to find my stuff she moved" Y/n sighs into the camera. "She also put a load of plastic cups filled with water around our bedroom while I was sleeping. But that ended up backfiring on her".

*A fast forwarded time lapse of Emily covering the floor of their bedroom with cups of water as well as any flat surfaces so Y/n couldn't climb on anything. She holds up 3 fingers and counts down to the camera before blowing an air horn causing Y/n to shot up in the bed*

Y/n peaks her head out from under the blanket only to see Emily giggling with the camera. She looks around confused before spoting all the cups. She groans loudly, "For fuck sake Em". She narrows her eyes at the blonde, "You have way too much free time if this is what your doing".

Y/n grabs a few of the cups and purposely empties them over Emily's stuff. "Hey!" The blonde shouts but Y/n just gives her a look, "What? You come in here and stop me? Be my guest". Emily groans dramatically, "I didn't think this through".

"Did you even think at all?"

"Hurtful"

Y/n clears a few of the cups without making too much of a mess. She sighs as she rubs her eyes, "It's too early for this shit Emily". She points at the defender holding the camera, "I hope you know your cleaning this shit up". Emily chuckles behind the camera.

Y/n looks up on the doorframe where her pull up bar is stuck. She looks between herself and the bar before smirking. "Y/n don't-" Emily starts but it falls on deaf ears. As Y/n bends her knees and make the long jump and grabs onto the bar. Her momentum swings her forward to where Emily is standing.

*In an attempt to soften the hit, Y/n wraps her legs around her waist making sure she doesn't fall. But in doing so she dropped the camera with a grunt causing the screen to blackout*

"And one of the worst ones was when she went away for a match and hid a bunch of alarm clocks around our bedroom which were all set to different times in the morning. Leaving me to wake up every little while to find the bloody things".

*Short clips of Y/n sleeping in the dark bedroom only for an alarm clock to blare causing Y/n to jolt in her sleep. This repeats multiple times showing different clips*

"And ever since then she's has also throw flour bombs at me, woke me up by pouring water all over me and she turned the hallway outside our bedroom into a slip and slide.

*Shows brief clip of Y/n slipping and falling on her ass*

"So I've decided to give her a taste of her own medicine!" Y/n exclaims to the camera. "So she's coming back late from a game tonight so I'm going to set up a few cameras and pretend to be mad at her and tell her I'm sleeping in the living room".

Y/n smirks at the camera, "One thing you need to know about Emily Sonnett is she loves her cuddles. Especially after a game. She's like a fricken Koala when she sleeps. She just clings onto you". She moves to set the camera down so it has a clear view of the bedroom, "And this is going to set up for my main prank for tomorrow".

"So I'm going to go set up everything. And wait until she gets home". Y/n gives a thumbs up to the camera before it times skips.

*Time has passed to show it's pretty late now. You can hear the jingling of keys before the door opens and closes. Y/n freezes before smiling at the camera and jumps up and starts gathering stuff*

Emily steps in the doorway and drops her bags. But scrunches her face when see her girlfriend isn't asleep and is in fact awake. "Y/n/n? What are you doing?" With an annoyed look on her face, Y/n looked over her shoulder before going back to gathering a blanket and a pillow, "I'm going to sleep in the living room".

Emily looks at her weird, "What? Why?" She moves to grab her hand but Y/n just pulls her arm away, "What's wrong?" Y/n just shrugs her off, "I'm going to sleep on the couch".

Emily crosses her arms upset as Y/n gathers up the last of her things, "Did something happen? Did I do something?" But Y/n just ignores her before shuffling out of the room. Emily curses quietly unaware that there's a camera in the room and that this is all a prank.

After a long sigh Emily pulls out her phone and dials quickly before holding it up to her ear. After a brief minute she starts starting

"Hey Kel did I forget an anniversary?"

*Cuts to the camera set up in their living room which is facing their couch. Y/n has a make shift bed set up as she's scrolling through her phone before she untangles herself from the blankets leaving to go to the bathroom*

After Y/n leaves a minute later you can shuffling off camera before Emily wrapped in blankets comes into view. She pauses at the couch before she jumps and flops on the couch making sure she's wrapped up in her blanket. Completely unknown that this is getting caught on camera.

A few minutes later Y/n comes back with her phone in hand. It swaps to her phones point of view as it shows a close up of Emily's face peaking out from the bundle of blanket. "What are you doing?" Y/n asked desperately trying to fight the small smile coming to her face. But Emily just smiles cutely up at her, "We're sleeping in the living room". Y/n groans quietly, "Noooo". But Emily just keeps smiling, "Together". Y/n shakes her head, "No. I am".

But Emily just ignores her and pulls the blanket back and nods towards her, "C'mon!" Y/n just sighs, "Kay fine. You sleep here and I'll sleep in the bed". Emily almost falls out of the bed trying to stop her, "Nooooo".

They have a mini staring competition before it cuts to the next frame where the two are seen cuddling on the couch with Emily lying on top of Y/n's chest.

"Okay! So last night's prank didn't go exactly how I planned" Y/n starts as she's back holding the camera. "BUT! I have something else planned!" She exclaims.

"So last night was really just meant for her to think I'm mad at her for some reason or another. Which sets up today's prank perfectly" she explains. "So I'm sure many of you have seen this one already but I'm going to put my own twist on it".

"So Emily and Kelley have gone out to train together today and then they're going to come back here to hang out" Y/n starts before smiling down at the camera, "but I'm going to pretend to just come out of the shower". She grins, "Well.... you'll see what happens".

*Camera cuts a clip of the kitchen where Emily and Kelley are. Emily is on her phone by the island while Kelley is looking through their fridge (obviously). Y/n walks in with a towel wrapped tightly around her*

Y/n walks around for a bit before Emily looks up and smiles before going back to her phone. It takes a second before Emily does a double take, eyes widen when she realizes that Y/n is supposedly only walking around in a towel.

"Y/n!" Emily gawked causing Kelley to look over and snort at the sight. Y/n just looks at her girlfriend unbothered, "What?" Emily just looks her up and down motioning to her lack of attire, "Uh!" "What?" Y/n asks frustratedly. "What are you doing?" Emily asked while Kelley just watched on amused.

"Nothing!" Y/n throws her hands up. "Get dressed" Emily says. "Why?" Y/n asks nonchalantly. "Your in a towel!" Emily says angrily. "So what?" Y/n just retorts. "Cause we have company!" Emily argues motioning to Kelley standing at the fridge who just holds her hands up in surrender.

Y/n just shrugs, "So what? It's only Kelley. She doesn't care". "I care! Only I get to see you like this!" Emily shouts angrily. Y/n runs a hand through her hair, "I don't see the problem I'm covered! I'm covered". "I don't care go get changed" Emily says sternly which is a bit weird to see from her usual happy, upbeat persona.

"She's not bothered by it" Y/n defends herself motioning her arm in Kelley's direction. "I'm bothered by it!" Sonnet claps back getting even angrier, "just go put something on".

Hiding her smirk Y/n progresses with the prank, "You know what? You know what? No. Now this". Y/n then turns her back to her girlfriend as she faces Kelley who's eyes widen substantially as Y/n untucks the towel still holding the ending with her hands.

Catching onto the joke, Kelley bursts our laughing which only fuels Emily's rage further as she stands there stunned that her girlfriend would do such a thing. "This is happening" Y/n says throwing a look back at Emily over her shoulder. "Y/n! That's not-" Emily stutters out trying to find the words.

"She's seen me like this before and so have you" Y/n says as Kelley is still gasping for breath as she laughs. "What are you-" Emily starts only to stop when Y/n drops the towel to reveal one of Y/n's dresses which she has pulled down the sleeves to hide underneath the towel.

Emily's jaw drops as Kelley falls into another fit of giggles as she leans against the island. "Gotcha!" Y/n grins. Emily's mouth opened and closed several times but no words came out as she just stuttered unintelligently, "Uh I um?" Y/n moves to pick up the camera and hold it in front of Emily, "Say Hi to the internet Babe".

If at all possible, Emily's cheeks flushed even darker, "You recorded all this?!" Y/n hummed contently, "And last night". Emily leans back against the island and slides down to the floor, "Last night! That was a prank?" Y/n giggles, "Yup!" Emily slumps back, "Thank god! I thought you were pissed at me! I thought I forgot an anniversary or something!"

There is some shuffling and a bit of blurry imagines before it shows Y/n sitting on the ground beside Emily as she grins, "Nah. Just payback for all the pranks you've pulled on me recently". Emily buried her face in her girlfriend's shoulder letting out a small, "I'm sorry" although it came out muffled.

Y/n leans her cheek on Emily's head, "It's okay. But just remember next time you prank me, remember how I got you back". "Emily pouted at her girlfriend, "Fine. No more pranks". Y/n smiled as she pressed a kiss to the top of her blonde crown. But of course Kelley had to interrupt.

"If there is ever a prank war, I'm calling Y/n for my team".

Emily growled at her teammate as she koala hugged her girlfriend's side, "No!" Y/n giggled as she shrugged at Kelley, "Sorry Kels I'm taken". "Damn right you are" Emily mumbles as she presses herself even further into Y/n's embrace.

Y/n smiled as she holds up the camera, "Well that's it for my revenge pranks back on my girlfriend. If you want to see the full videos of Emily's pranks on me, I'll leave them in the description. Comment below for any videos you would like to see". "No more prank videos" Emily whined at the camera causing the other two to laugh before Y/n finished her outro. "Well that's it for now. Until next time. Peace out Wilders!"

#uswnt imagine #uswnt imagines #uswnt x reader #emily sonnett x reader #emily sonnett imagines #emily sonnett #emily fields imagine #uswnt

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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

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oshicakes · 3 years

Text

calling their s/o dude

pairings. terushima yuuji x reader, yamamoto taketora x reader, tanaka ryuunosuke x reader

genre. fluff

Terushima Yuuji

it was the usual weekend with your boyfriend, just hanging out in their house. you're in the sofa while he's sitting on the floor.

he's busy with his phone and you're getting bored already. so you slowly crawl to him. letting his head settle between your thighs.

you took a lot of hair ties from your bag and started gathering some of his hair and tying it. you kept on going until his head is full of little horns.

he checked what you did to his hair using his phone by opening his front camera. he laughed how it looks at him.

"dude, what did you do to my hair?"

"really? dude?" you rolled your eyes on him.

"yes, you're my dude now."

you just keep quiet. you're already pissed with him. he keeps on ignoring you since you got inside their house and then now he just called you dude.

"dude, can you grab me some grape soda in the fridge?" even though you're pissed at him, you still grab him his drink. he just took his drink from you and said thanks without looking at you.

"you know what, ill just go home." you grab your things and headed towards the door.

he grabbed your wrist when your about to open their gate. "hey, im sorry. i was just trying to piss you off. you look hot when your pissed hehe."

"well, congrats you just pissed me of DUDE." you crossed your arms and glared at him.

"i know, im sorry. please, stay. plus mom's expecting you when she gets home."

"well his son just pissed me off. first he ignored me all day and just now he called me dude, what do you expect?"

he looked at you with his puppy eyes. he tugged you closer to him. "this son is saying sorry and won't do it every again. im sorry. please don't be mad at me anymore. ill be a good boy, now. i love you, mah love so sweet my cherry on top y/n."

"i love you too, DUDE." he winced when he heard you call him dude. now he understand that it feels so wrong calling you dude.

"ey, that felt so wrong."

"well not my problem anymore."

"huh, having that attitude again aren't we?"

"take it or leave it." you raised a brow on him and looked at him like you're challenging him.

he sighed. "okay." he then takes note to never piss you off again like this.

all through out the day you call him dude. even his mother asked you why and you just said that his son called you dude so you call him dude too. he just look like a kid that got scolded by his parents all through out that day too.

and when its time to sleep. you said "goodnight, dude." to him. he whines at you but still spooned you. he made a mental note not to call you dude anymore. it's like a curse and nightmare to him.

Yamamoto Taketora

you're out with your boyfriend, having a date after their team qualified to compete in nationals.

fingers intertwined while scrolling around the mall. trying to find something to buy. he spotted this known volleyball shoe brand, then dragged you there.

"woah! they released a new shoe collection! look at the white one, dude! it looks so cool!" you we're suprise but decided to get along with it and to kind of tease him.

"yes, dude. that looks amazing. buy it."

he didn't notice he called you dude and as well as you calling him dude instead of his name or babe.

he ends up buying that shoes. you both left the store with a wide smile plastered on his face.

"dude, let's eat some snacks. im kinda hungry."

his wide smile turned to confusion. he looked at you like you're some kind of alien. "what?" you innocently asked. he just shake his head and continue walking to your favorite cafe.

"what do you want, BABE?" that emphasis he put to the babe didn't escape your ears. that made you smirk.

"blueberry cheesecake and iced coffee please, thank you." after minutes he came back with his and your order. "thanks, dude."

that goes on until you both reached your house. you noticed his change of mood. you sighed and got guilty of teasing him by calling him dude all day.

"why the long face?" you touched his cheeks and gently rub it with your thumb.

he looked away from you and purse his lips. "you keep calling me dude."

"but you called me dude first." now he looked at you. "no, i didn't"

"yes, you did. you called me dude when you saw that shoes you bought." you chuckled.

"i didn't recall calling you dude earlier. but im sorry, i won't do it again."

"it's okay. i had fun teasing you anyway." you chuckled.

"so, you're not gonna call me dude anymore, right?"

you smirked at him. you kissed his cheeks and patted it lightly. "i'll think about it." then ran away from him

"BABE!" you stuck your tongue out to him before closing the door.

Tanaka Ryuunosuke

you decided to go to his house today since he doesn't have any volleyball practice. and he's been telling you about this video game he borrowed from his sister's friend.

"dude, you suck at this game."

"now im dude? i thought it's my love?"

"no, it.. it just slip my mouth! you're my love, my baby, my babe! you're not dude."

"no, i think dude is cute. from now on, we call each other dude." you teased him.

"noooooo!" he whined like a child, stomping his feet and pouting his lips.

he jumped on you and pinned you down by wrapping his arms on your waist and his legs on your hips.

"dude, get off. your heavy."

"noooo! i won't get off until you stop calling me dude."

"you're the one who called me dude first."

"i know but it... it was nothing! don't think about it anymore! forget about it! call me ryuu again or my love!"

"but dude suits you more."

"no, we're not dudes!" he kissed you on your cheeks. "does dudes do this to each other?"

"yes, they do." you answered him. he kissed you on your lips, it lasted about two or three minutes. "now, does dudes do that?"

"yes, you just did it to me." he groaned to your answer while you just laughed at him. he looks like about to burst any minute now.

"get off now, dude. i need to pee."

"im not letting you go until you stop calling me dude." he even made his grip around you tighter but not to the point of hurting you.

"okay, okay, i won't call you dude again. now get off."

"you promise first."

"promise. i need to pee now."

"wait, if you call me dude again, you will have to buy me melonpan for two months."

"eyyyy, that's too much!"

"agree to it or you're stuck to me forever."

"okay, okay! get off now."

"where's your pinky?" you sighed and brought your pinky close to his face. he wears this stupid wide grin on his face. he then, intertwined his and your pinky. "now that our deal is sealed, you shall be free again, my love."

you heard his loud laugh while you ran your way to their bathroom. "hmp. it's just dude anyway, i can still call him bro." you said to yourself and start planning your revenge.

#haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #terushima yuuji x reader #terushima x reader #terushima headcanons #yamamoto taketora x reader #yamamoto x reader #yamamoto headcanons #tanaka ryuunosuke x reader #tanaka x reader #tanaka headcanons

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bethansfandoms · 3 years

Note

Sirius as a clingy drunk and remus just happens to be the person he clings to most, if Remus hugs and cuddles cannot be acquired he clings to James and whines about Remus, how pretty he is, how much he wants to snog him and wanting Remus to hug him

it was the last quidditch game of sirius’ hogwarts career, and they’d only gone and bloody won.

as expected, the after party was insane. there was food and music and, most importantly, alcohol.

the common room was still heaving and not just with gryffindors. it was a friday night and apparently the hufflepuffs and ravenclaws who had found the way into the common room to celebrate slytherins defeat, were willing to risk a detention in order to stay long into the night.

“are you not dancing?” lily asked, flopping down next to Sirius on the sofa, her cheeks pink and her smile wide.

“is remus still in the library?”

lily grinned, “aw, you know how he gets before the moons.” she checked her watch. “pince will have kicked him out by now, he’ll be back soon.”

sirius nodded and took a generous sip of his drink. he had been dancing, a lot. he’d sung abba with james and he’d screamed along to bowie songs and he’d jumped on the table so much one of the legs had started to break.

now, however, he just wanted remus. it was a full moon the following night and remus’ headaches were beginning to appear so he had made his excuses. valid excuses, but excuses nontheless.

sirius hadn’t even seen him since they’d won the match; since james had scored right before the slytherin seeker caught the snitch giving them those ten points they needed for the 150 slytherin scored not to matter. it had been a hell of a victory and a hell of a game.

“there you go, what did i say,” lily grinned, pointing towards the portrait hole. remus had appeared. and he was making a move towards the stairs.

“moony!” sirius leapt up from his seat and wrapped remus in a tight hug just before he could begin climbing up to the dormitory.

“agh,” remus exclaimed; he hugged him back anyway. “sirius, let me go.”

sirius just held on tighter. “i missed you.”

remus laughed, “i’m right here.” he dropped his voice to a whisper, “padfoot, you need to let me go.”

sirius sighed and reluctantly detached himself. it sucked, keeping their relationship a secret. sirius knew it was the wisest thing to do, but it still hurt to have to keep everything behind closed doors, especially now, when all he wanted to do was kiss him. but he couldn’t, because people were there.

“you played really well,” remus said, softly.

“for you.”

he smiled at that. “sirius, i’m going to bed now, yeah?”

“noooo,” sirius complained, touching remus’ face and tracing his bottom lip with his thumb. it was not at all platonic but sirius was drunk and people probably wouldn’t give it a second glance.

“yes. keep celebrating, don’t worry about me, okay? i’m really proud of you.”

i love you sirius thought, but the words didn’t leave his mouth and he let remus ascend the stairs.

“prongsssss!” he spun and found james, dancing wildly, and made a beeline for him. “evans, i’m stealing james,” he announced. grabbing james’ sleeve.

“pete, you’re in,” james enthused, pointing at the boy in the corner. peter looked up at him, shook his head, and fell asleep almost immediately.

“what’s up?” james asked as sirius pulled him onto the sofa.

“i’m in love with remus.”

james laughed, “sirius, i know, you told me last year, remember?”

“no,” sirius waved a hand dismissively, “i mean i love him but i haven’t told him that yet.”

“oh... do you want to?”

“obviously! have you said it to evans?”

“well... yeah.”

sirius groaned and lay down, his head in james’ lap. james laughed but didn’t shake him off.

“i love him so much,” sirius complained. “he’s so kind and he puts up with all my shit and he’s so beautiful and—”

james laughed again, “i don’t know why you’re telling this to me!”

“becauseeee,” sirius whined, “he’s gone up to bed and i haven’t kissed him all day because there’s always people around and it just makes me sad that i can’t.”

james ran a hand through his hair, “aw, mate, it’s okay. why don’t you go and find him now?”

sirius rotated himself so that he was looking up at the ceiling. “what do you mean?”

james shrugged, “go find him. he’s upstairs and we’re all down here.”

“but i’m drunk, he won’t think i mean it.”

james ruffled his hair, “he loves you too.”

“did he tell you?”

“he didn’t need to.”

sirius smiled, “you’re a good friend james.” he sat up and everything went blurry for a second before refocusing. he took james’ head between his hands. “no, a brother. you’re a good brother.”

james laughed and pushed his hands away, “yes, okay, now go and find remus he can be all clingy with him instead.”

sirius nodded and stood from his seat, “i love you james! but not like that.”

some of the common room heard it and laughed. “love you too, padfoot.”

sirius saw lily laughing before kissing james’ cheek as he climbed the stairs, slowly as to not fall down them.

“moonyyyy.”

remus pulled back the bed curtains and laughed when he saw the state of sirius, “what are you doing up here?”

“i want to see you, obviously.” he lay on the bed next to remus and immediately wrapped his arms around him.

“you’re so clingy when you’re drunk.”

“‘s not just the alcohol. i haven’t seen you all day.”

“what do you mean? i was with you all morning.”

“no, but,” he leant up and kissed remus firmly on the lips, “i haven’t properly seen you.”

remus raised an eyebrow, “ah. i see. i’m tired, sirius.”

“nooooo.” he clung to him tightly. remus laughed.

“you should sleep as well, padfoot, you’re going to have a wicked hangover tomorrow.”

he groaned, “i regret that last firewhisky.”

“don’t worry, i went to madam pomfrey on my way back from the library, asked her for some pepper up potion. it’s the moon tomorrow so she didn’t question it.”

sirius nuzzled into his neck, “you’re amazing. you always take such good care of me moony.”

remus chuckled and threaded a hand through sirius’ hair, “yeah, well, you take care of me too.”

“yeah. ‘s cause i love you.” he let go of remus and sat bolt up right which made his head spin. “bugger. wait, okay i swear i’m not just drunk because i do actually happen to—”

remus kissed him. to shut him up, sirius realised that much, but he smiled into it nonetheless. “i’ll say it back if you can remember this in the morning.”

sirius pouted. “that’s not fairrrrr.” they lay back down, sirius’ head on remus’ chest. he started to drift off very quickly after that; remus continued to play with his hair gently.

“i love you too,” he whispered. sirius smiled and finally passed out.

#wolfstar #marauders #remus lupin #sirius black #wolfstar fanfic #wolfstar fanfiction #remus lupin x sirius black #sirius black x remus lupin #wolfstar prompts #wolfstar prompt #wolfstar textpost #wolfstar oneshot #wolfstar tumblr #wolfstar fluff

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rhysismydaddy · 4 years

Text

Fanny Pack Sexiness (Nessian Smut)

Prompt: *sensually unclips fanny pack* this is weird, i know. but i just saw a tweet and i thought if anyone could write this, it would be you.

Laughed so hard when I read this. If this isn’t Nessian, I don’t know what is. NSFW warning because I do love a fanny pack moment ;)

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Nesta glared out the window, keeping her unspoken vow to not look over at the atrocity that was her boyfriend.

Well, that wasn’t not fair.

The boyfriend himself was actually pretty nice to look at.

Broad shoulders, a tall frame filled with meaty muscle, curly brown hair, and golden eyes made him interesting enough, she supposed.

But it was what the bastard had chosen to wear that had driven her insane all day.

The monstrosity was strapped around his waist currently, and she could’ve sworn it was laughing up at her.

Consider this the first and last time she would ever travel with him.

Because since it wasn’t obvious enough they were American, Cassian had chosen to wear a fanny pack. Over an I <3 LONDON shirt. Which he’d paired with khakis.

He looked like the cover of a tourist’s guide made for forty year-old, single men who lived with their mothers.

And she knew it was at least partly her fault he was dressed so stupidly, but she refused to apologize.

Last night, they’d been heading out to dinner, when she commented that almost always, he wore all black. Honestly, it wasn’t even a complaint, considering she was guilty of the same thing.

Why bother trying to put together prints and fabrics and colors, when black looked so nice on her?

Anyway. She hadn’t been complaining. Teasing, but not complaining.

But noooo. He’d immediately gotten that annoying, competitive look in his eyes that both made her smile and want to strangle him.

“What would you like me to wear, Nesta?” he’d asked, golden eyes practically glowing.

She’d sighed, probably making things worse. “I’m just saying, we look a little goth when we’re together.”

Cassian had just smiled down at her, then walked out of their room. She hadn’t thought any more of it when he’d slipped back in later that night, but then this morning, when he’d gotten dressed in the bathroom and opened the door with a flourish, she’d almost hit the floor.

He was not built for fanny packs and khakis.

He was built for... well, he was built to be naked all the time, but since that would probably get them sent back to the states, tight black shirts and jeans was a decent second option.

Plus, as if it weren’t bad enough already, he’d been adding to the ensemble all day, building up to the horrendous outfit she was currently avoiding looking at.

His faded combat boots had been replaced with flip flops. His hair was tucked under a very large hat with a Big Ben outline across the front. He’d even stopped to buy a fucking old-fashioned pipe from the William Blake exhibit they’d gone to see.

He was trying to drive her crazy.

But little did he know, she had a few tricks up her sleeve. After three years together, she knew how to drive him crazy, too.

So she’d plotted and schemed all day. And as they rode back to their hotel in the cab, it was finally time for it to come into play.

Trying to be discrete, she nodded at the driver.

Cassian’s eyes shot to her as the man slammed on the brakes. It had costed her twenty Euros, but seeing the look of shock on her boyfriend’s face was so worth it.

Especially as she shouted, “Drive him to the other side of the city and kick him out!”

And jumped from the cab.

It was still moving a little, but she’d been prepared and hit the ground at a run.

Manic laughter came out of her as Cassian turned around in the now-speeding cab, shouting something unintelligible back at her.

He wanted to dress like a tacky tourist and drive her crazy?

Fine.

She’d just have to show him what he was missing out on.

A little over an hour later, the door to their hotel room swung open, hitting the wall angrily.

“That asshole took me halfway to fucking Essex, then had the audacity to charge me for the ride. Next time you have someone kidnap me, at least pay the fee, woman! I swear-”

Whatever he was about to say lodged in his throat as he took a look at what she was wearing.

It was all new, and his eyes took in every piece of the wardrobe with a predatory gleam that sent her toes curling. But she acted unaffected, even as she bent down to fix the strap of her very high, very uncomfortable shoes.

“What’s going on?” he asked, voice rough.

Straightening, she shrugged and fluffed her hair. “I’m going to dinner.”

“You mean we’re going to dinner.”

Finally.

Nesta turned towards her boyfriend, enjoying the way his eyes dipped to the almost indecent amount of cleavage on display.

She traced her eyes over his entire rumpled, touristy outfit. “I’m not going in public with you while I look like this and you look like that.”

His eyes narrowed as he finally caught on to what she’d done. “I’ll change then.”

It was a struggle not to laugh. “Well, you seemed so intent on replacing your wardrobe, I figured I’d help you out and dumped your suitcase.”

That was a lie. It was safely hidden down at the front desk.

“You did what?”

Ignoring the question, she said, “You’re welcome. And since you can neither change nor go like that, I guess I’ll just see you later.”

Making her way to the door, she was abruptly stopped by a hand smacking into the wall closest to her, an arm now blocking her path. “Nesta Archeron, you are not going out looking like a goddamn supermodel while I sit here with my thumbs up my ass.”

“How you fill the alone time is irrelevant to me, Cassian.”

His other hand made its way to the wall, too, caging her in.

“I know you wouldn’t throw my clothes out. Where are they? Tell me, and we’ll go to dinner.”

She shrugged, resolve to keep the secret building by the second.

She was aware they were both a little competitive, but she didn’t care. She was winning this, one way or the other. He’d admit he’d been wrong to dress like an idiot today, then--and only then--she’d give him his clothes back.

“I know what you’re doing,” he told her, the tone of his voice proving that it was working.

He was suddenly so close she couldn’t think about anything else.

Even dressed in head to toe tacky, he somehow managed to suck all the air out of her lungs.

One hand turned his hat backwards so the brim wouldn’t poke her, and he leaned in close enough to run his nose down her neck.

“Tell me, Nesta.”

“No.”

His teeth nipped at her skin, and she shivered. “Do I need to fuck it out of you?”

Gods, yes. Please.

That hadn’t been her plan at all, but her body was more than on board with it.

Except there was a bit of a problem.

“You are not fucking me with a fanny pack on, hate to break it to you.”

Cassian pulled back far enough to wink at her, then his mouth was on hers, dominating her in the way that she’d only ever let him do. He pressed her against the wall, chest tight against hers, as he slipped his tongue in her mouth.

Hands on her waist lifted her, and then she was being thrown halfway across the room onto the neatly-made bed.

Propping herself up on her elbows, she glared over at him.

“I was being serious, Cassian. You’re not getting any while you’re dressed like Uncle Sam.”

He swaggered over to the foot of the bed, the comment not at all impacting his confidence.

“Allow me to remedy the problem then, princess.”

The hat’s the first to go, and it was a relief to see his unruly hair finally free. She heard the slap of his flip flops on the floor and figured he kicked them off, too. Cassian tugged the horrible, bright yellow “I <3 LONDON” shirt over his head, then stared at her, eyes narrowed.

“I’m keeping the fanny pack.”

It was adorable how wrong he was.

Raising an eyebrow, Nesta leaned back and let her thighs fall open, keying him into the fact that she’d somehow forgotten to put on underwear tonight.

His jaw tightened, but he didn’t move to take off the damn pack.

So she ran a manicured nail over her bottom lip, then slipped it in her mouth and sucked on it. She was pretty sure Cassian was about to pass out as she released it with a pop, then brought it between her legs.

“Nesta.”

“Hmm?” she responded, the sound drawn out and breathy as she pushed the finger inside herself.

“I like the fanny pack.” He sounded so sad, it was almost comical. Like a kid on Christmas who’d just been told Santa hadn’t come.

Too bad.

“Then stand there and watch.”

Oh, he did. His eyes were intent on her hands, both the one between her legs and the other that made it’s way to her breast.

She rolled a nipple between her fingers and groaned, and he leaned down to fist the sheets at the end of the bed in his hands. “Fuck.”

Nesta refused to give first. Absolutely refused.

And she knew what it would take for him to give in. So she added another finger, back arching off the bed, and worked herself until she was so close she couldn’t stay still.

His knuckles were white as he gripped the comforter tight enough to threaten the strands, but it wasn’t that that forced him to lose their little battle.

It was the sight of her coming undone before him.

She moaned, and it might’ve been his name that fell from her lips, as release found her. When she heard the strangled, creative curse he let out, she knew she’d won.

Forcing her eyes open, she watched as he finally unhooked the fanny pack and let it drop to the floor.

It was the sexiest thing she’d ever seen.

Cassian quickly kicked off his hideous khakis, then prowled up her body, dropping little love bights on her thighs, her hips, her breasts.

“That was so hot,” he groaned as he settled between her thighs, bracing himself on his elbows.

“That was the idea, idiot.”

He stopped for a moment, pulling back to give her a sour look. “I think I’m going to make you apologize for that.”

Before she could tell him there was a fat chance of that happening, he pushed into her. Nesta gasped, and his mouth was suddenly on hers, absorbing the sound.

After a brief moment to adjust, his hips grew rough against hers, the grip he had on them almost bruising, but she didn’t care.

“Fuck, Cass,” she groaned, arching into his touch as he drew little circles on the bundle of nerves between her legs.

He picked up speed, pounding into her so hard she started shifting up the bed until he wrapped an arm around her shoulders, keeping her in place.

Release started building up in her, and she could tell it would be almost too intense when it crested. But just before she got to find out, he slowed his rhythm, swirling his hips slowly against hers.

An indignant, hateful sound left her mouth, and he pulled back enough to smirk down at her.

“Say it,” he commanded, eyes like molten caramel as they watched her hips try to gain more friction. “Say you’re sorry, and I’ll give you what you want.”

“Fuck you,” she panted, barely resisting the urge to punch him. “You insufferable, arrogant bastard.”

“Not exactly what I want to hear, but close.”

A maddeningly slow circle of his hips had her regretting ever going out with him.

Another had her planning his murder.

Yet another had her cursing the day he was born.

“Say it, Nesta. You know you want to.” He dipped his head to kiss the base of her throat.

Her body was so strung out it was a miracle she didn’t burst into tears, but she somehow managed to hold off for another few minutes.

But then he grabbed her hands and pinned them above her head and all but growled, “Just fucking say it. Say it so I can fuck you like you deserve.”

And she was just desperate enough that she said, “I’m sorry I called you an idiot, you horrible asshole.”

He smiled down at her, and she glared. “Such beautiful words.”

“Cassian, I swear-”

The words became lost in her throat as he finally, finally started moving again, somehow harder and quicker than before.

Release immediately crashed into her, and she moaned as she drew tight around him.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and even though she currently hated him, the words just made the release that much sweeter.

Especially as he didn’t stop. Her body was trembling underneath his, but he kept going, even dipping his head to kiss his way down to her breasts.

His tongue swirled around the peak of one, and she groaned loudly as the wave inside her seemed to crash once more, leaving her scattered and broken in the aftermath.

Cassian finally followed her lead, collapsing on top of her and pressing her into the mattress below as he said her name in a helpless, loving sort of way.

Their breath was uncontrolled and loud, and it took a few minutes before either of them could speak.

Then he asked roughly, “Now, where’d you hide my shit?”

“Front desk,” she panted, pushing her hair off her forehead with a tired hand.

He drew back, looking over her partially-clothed body in a satisfied, male way that made her smile. “I really like that dress, in case it isn’t obvious. Want me to go change so we can eat something?”

Before she could respond, his mouth was at her ear, hot breath raising goosebumps across her skin. “Or do you just want to eat here?”

Suddenly, food was the last thing on her mind.

Her hands found their way to his hair as she drew him back down to her.

“Just get it tomorrow,” she murmured, lips finding his again. “And never wear that fanny pack again.”

_________________________________________________________

Like I said, I had WAY too much fun writing this hahaha. Kinda really loosely based on when Joey (Friends) went to London and dressed like a tourist :)

Tags: @sjm-things @santas-dwynwen @thebitchupstairs @sayosdreams @perseusannabeth @cursebreaker29 @a-bit-of-a-cactus @elriel4life @girl-who-reads-the-books @aelinfeyreeleven945tbln @highqueenofelfhame @tswaney17 @rowanisahunk @superspiritfestival @studyliketate @over300books @justgiu12 @maastrash @aesthetics-11 @bamchickawowow @b00kworm @sleeping-and-books @musicmaam @hizqueen4life @maybekindasortaace

#nessian #nessian fanfiction #nesta #nesta archeron #cassian #cassian x nesta #acotar #acotar fanfiction #acomaf #acowar #acofas #a court of mist and fury #a court of thorns and roses #a court of wings and ruin #a court of frost and starlight #nesta x cassian #nesta x cassian fanfiction

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nostalgiabones · 3 years

Text

Our Little Secret // C.H

So here is a little dad!sos AU crossover that I originally just wrote for @calumrose, but then decided to actually post! There’s a bit of a surprise at the end, so let me know how you feel about that! 😌♥️

“Are you so excited, baby?”

Mara is almost bouncing around the room at the news that Luke is on his way over, with a very special guest. Ever since she found out that Luke and his partner were expecting, she had been beyond excited to meet the new addition. She had become obsessed with dolls and babies – fascinated by the growing bump of her pseudo auntie, as well as her bedroom now being full of dolls. You’d never seen the almost three-year-old so excited by the prospect of anything in her life.

“Yeah mama!” She replies, wrapping her arms around the small baby doll in her arms. “So ‘cited!”

“Do you have your present for her?” Calum asks, remembering the small teddy that had been sat in the corner of her bedroom for around a month now. It was like one that Luke had bought her when she was born, so Calum thought it would be perfect to return the favour. “Should we go get it?”

Mara nods and reaches up for Calum, wanting him to pick her up so they can go to her bedroom to get it. “You’re so lazy, bub.” Calum laughs, but picking her up all the same. “Come on then.”

By the time Calum gets upstairs with Mara and finds the present, he hears a knock at the door and you greeting Luke and his family. “Who’s here Mara? Is it the baby?”

“Go see!” She replies, squealing in excitement, waiting at the top of the stairs for Calum to help her down.

“Where’s my favourite niece?” Luke calls out, his eyes landing on Calum and Mara heading downstairs. Mara gasps when she sees the baby carrier in his hand, almost like she didn’t believe that the baby was there until she saw her. “There she is.”

Calum sets Mara down, waiting to let go until she’s steady on her feet, watching as Mara runs up to Luke’s waiting arms. Luke feels a little emotional at seeing her, now that he has his own baby; Mara was the first band baby, the one who made Luke want to be a dad, and now he gets to be one. “Hi, sweetheart. We have someone very special for you to meet. I know she’s really excited to meet you.”

“Can I see?” She asks, trying to climb out of his arms to investigate the baby carrier on the ground. Luke nods, kneeling next to her to make sure she doesn’t get too excited.

“Should we go sit down, baby? So you can see properly? Calum suggests, knowing she’ll want to hold her if Luke and his partner will let her. She nods, running off into the lounge, waiting until everyone follows behind.

You all head into the lounge behind her, Luke keeping a tight grip on Delilah’s carrier. He knows her nap will probably end soon, and he hopes it won’t be when Mara holds her. He doesn’t want to scare her off, especially when she’s so excited.

She sits on the sofa, making grabby hands towards Luke, to get him to give her the baby. “Okay, okay. I’m getting her, I promise.” He chuckles, kneeling in front of the carrier and undoing the clasps.

“Mara, remember what we talked about, okay?” Calum reminds her, his hand rubbing up and down her back to get her attention. “We have to be very gentle, okay? Delilah is a new baby, sweetheart. She’s not used to people just yet.”

Mara nods, and Calum isn’t sure if she actually paid attention. Mara would never intentionally hurt her, of course, but he knows what she’s like when she’s excited.

“Also, she’s not a doll, okay?” You add, receiving a laugh from the other adults in the room. Mara was gentle with her dolls, but also tended to drop them on the floor when she got bored of them.

Luke undoes the straps, slipping his hands underneath Delilah, making sure he’s got a good hold on her before he scoops her up. Making sure her head is supported, he puts her on his chest, one hand underneath her, the other holding her head.

“Baby!” Mara exclaims, kicking her legs against the sofa in excitement. Calum smiles at how happy she is, keeping his hand on her back to calm her down. Delilah curls into Luke, barely taking up half of his chest – tucking her legs up into a little ball against him. She squeaks and whines a little in her sleep at being moved, soon soothed by Luke’s gentle shushes.

It’s almost like Mara goes shy when Luke moves to sit next to her. Like Delilah suddenly became real to her, and she doesn’t know how to act. Calum notices the change in her, brushing his fingers through her hair in a reassuring gesture.

“It’s okay, little moon.” He tells her, kissing her forehead as she sits a little closer to him.

“Do you want to see her first?” Luke asks her softly, aware of Delilah sleeping on him. He knows Mara wants to hold her, but it seems as though she needs to warm up to her first. Mara nods hesitantly, her hand clinging onto Calum’s knee as a sign of nervousness. “Here we go,”

Luke repositions Delilah so she’s in the cradle of his arms, her head supported by the crook of his elbow. She curls into his body, rosy cheeks sucking on the pacifier that takes up most of her face. Luke rubs his thumb over the apple of her cheek, coaxing her face away from his t-shirt, so Mara, you and Calum can see her face.

“Look at that nose,” Calum comments, noticing the slope and perfect point was so similar to that of her dad. “Just like yours, Luke.”

“She looks just like him,” Luke’s wife pouts, admiring her in the cradle of his arms. “I carry her for nine months and give birth to her, yet she looks nothing like me.”

“What do you think, Mara?” Luke asks her, hoping that he’s easing her shyness a little. “Is she cute?”

Mara nods, peering over to look at the tiny baby in her Uncle’s arms. Luke strokes his pointer finger over Delilah’s hand, showing Mara that nothing bad would happen if she came closer to interact with her. Delilah just stretches to get comfy and wraps her tiny hand around the middle of Luke’s finger.

“Shall we say hi together?” Calum asks, encouraging Mara to interact with her. Mara nods once more and moves closer to Luke, gently reaching out and tapping Delilah carefully. “Be gentle, sweetheart.”

Delilah cuddles into Luke and Mara giggles at her movement, seemingly getting excited to meet her again. She copies Luke and puts her hand on Delilah’s free one, waiting to see if she grabs hold of it, like she did to him. Delilah stretches her tiny fingers out and tries to take Mara’s hand, curling around it in a reflex.

“Look!” Mara squeals, her other hand clasping over her mouth when she realises how loud she was. She’s met with a, “it’s okay, honey” from Luke when she sees her reaction.

“I see, baby.” Calum replies, happy that she’s finally warming up to her.

“Do you want to hold her with me?” Luke asks her, met with a more excited nod this time. “Okay, hold on.”

Luke moves Delilah against him once more, managing to cradle her with one arm whilst Mara sits on his knee, his other arm wrapped around her. She whines a little once more, her pacifier slipping out from her lips as the first hiccup of a cry escapes.

“Uh oh,” Mara says, grabbing the pacifier and keeping hold of it, to make sure it doesn’t fall onto the floor. She sits still whilst Luke gets them both settled, managing to place Delilah in Mara’s arms, whilst still supported by his own.

“Keep your hand there, okay? We have to make sure her head doesn’t fall.” Luke tells her. He knows he has her head supported enough that if Mara did move, she wouldn’t fall, but he wants to make Mara feel important. “Do you want to put her pacifier back in for her?”

Mara lifts the hand occupied by the pacifier and gently holds it to Delilah’s mouth, pushing it in with Luke’s help, waiting until she took to it again. Delilah is more than happy with the contact – her face pressed against Mara’s t-shirt to get comfy, her eyes fluttering with tiredness again. “Back to sleep...”

Luke chuckles at her words, resting his cheek on her head as he holds both her and Delilah. “I know. She sleeps a lot so she can grow up to be big and strong, like you.”

They spend a little longer cuddled up together before Mara decides she’s bored, and Delilah is ready for a feed. She’s soon back in Luke’s arms, swaddled in a blanket, content as he feeds her.

“Where did her present get to, bub?” You ask Mara, knowing her and Calum went upstairs to get it before Luke had arrived. You assumed that Mara had got too excited when she heard the door go and wanted to go downstairs before she got the chance to find it. “Did you find it? Shall we go get it?”

She nods and jumps up off the sofa, letting you take her hand in your own.

“It’s on the dresser in her bedroom.” Calum informs you, where he left it earlier. He watches as the two of you head to her room to get it.

“Mara looks so big now,” Luke pouts, snuggling Delilah a little closer in his arms. “I don’t know why but now we’ve got a newborn, Mara just seems so much older.”

“Don’t say that,” Calum groans, thinking about how much Mara is growing up. He agrees with Luke though. Now that he’s seen Delilah, it makes him realise how long it’s been since Mara was that age. “She’s still a baby.”

“So, what are you thinking about baby number two, Cal?” Luke’s partner asks.

Calum chuckles, a blush rising to his cheeks at her question.

“I don’t know,” He replies, shrugging his shoulders. “We talked about it, but we’ll probably wait until Mara is a little older. Maybe when she starts school.”

Luke and his partner don’t have time to reply before you come back into the lounge with Mara, carrying the present you had gone looking for.

“What’s that, honey?” Luke asks her, smiling at the grin on her face, her hands tightly clutching the soft bear. “Is that for me?”

“Noooo,” She giggles, moving closer to peer at Delilah in his arms, now finished with her bottle and back to sleeping. “It’s for ‘Lilah, silly.”

“Oh! Silly me,” Luke replies, the ‘oh’ exaggerated for Mara’s benefit. “That’s so kind! Thank you.”

“For you, ‘Lilah,” Mara murmurs to her, placing the bear on top of her, being gentle as not to wake her up.

Delilah is passed around to you and Calum, the two of you having plenty of time to snuggle her before it’s time for them to take her home.

It’s not until late that night, once Mara is tucked up in bed, that Calum murmurs an important question to you – one that has been on his mind since he found out the exciting news himself.

You’re tucked up in bed together, legs entwined under the covers; Calum’s warm hand slipped under the soft material of his t-shirt that you stole to sleep in. His warm palm fits over the small bump there, only visible to you and him – one that you’re nervous to reveal to the toddler sleeping down the hall.

“So… when should we tell her?”

***

Feedback is always so so appreciated! Please let me know what you think here.

Masterlist

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#ahhhhhh i'm so excited about this #calum hood blurbs #luke hemmings blurbs #5sos blurbs #dad 5sos #dad 5sos blurbs #dadsos blurbs #dad 5sos blurb #dad sos blurbs #dad!sos blurbs #dad!5sos blurbs #mywriting #myblurbs #dad!calum blurbs

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gottawriteanegoortwo · 3 years

Text

Damstache - Stay the Night

(Sometimes... You just gotta be self-indulgent and write a rarepair. Bonus if you finish the fic and completely forget about it)

Damien and Wilford have been taking it slow since their first meeting. This looks at their first night together.

Word count: 1,460

Wilford was sure he was the luckiest man in the world. Somehow, despite his associations with violence and his reputation of actively seeking people in committed relationships he had a chance encounter with a beautiful man who was willing to overlook all that for a promise of honesty. All Damien had to do was smile, and Wilford knew he was doomed from the start. He couldn’t bear to consider the possibility of breaking the young mayor’s heart!

But as they started going on dates to quiet locations that Damien wouldn’t be recognised, Wilford learned something interesting. Damien had been so focused on wanting to do good for others that he had never taken time to look for a romantic partner of any sort and enjoy life beyond work. Anyone else who asked him out had been rejected. Wilford wasn’t sure how he avoided the cut, but he promised himself that he’d make the most of it and show Damien the joys of being in a relationship.

Date night on this occasion was a Friday evening in Wilford’s home. Dinner was ordered to enjoy while they watched a movie. They sat on the couch together, Damien’s head resting on Wilford’s shoulder, hands loosely interlocked. The reporter wasn’t at all surprised when he glanced down to ask Damien something and noticed Damien had dozed off. Being a mayor was exhausting, Wilford had quickly learned, which was why many of their dates were ‘low-energy’. Not that Wilford minded. It was a nice change from his normal approach of ‘fast, frantic and intense’, which in turn allowed him to better appreciate the here and now. Maybe that was why he was able to remember more of their dates.

A door slamming on the TV startled Damien awake, who immediately began apologising for ‘ruining the night'.

“Whoa, angel, it’s okay. Yer exhausted. We can watch it another time. I don’t remember what happened.” Wilford had been a little too preoccupied with doting over his sleeping beauty.

“It might be for the best. I should be able to get a taxi at this time…” Damien slowly stood up so he could start the search for his phone.

“Why don’t ya stay th’ night?” Wilford’s question had Damien freeze.

“I-I don’t think that’s appropriate. You’re a good man, Wilford, but we’ve only been dating three months.” Both men shared an equally confused look.

“Sure it’s appropriate. I wanna share my bed with ya.”

“W-what?” Damien’s face quickly flushed as he scrambled to grab his phone off the coffee table like it was an act of self-defense. “I thought we had agreed to take this slow.”

“I don’t see how…. Ohhhh.” At last, the penny dropped and Wilford laughed in embarrassment. “I wasn’t askin’ if y’d sleep with me. I wanted ta know if y’d sleep with me!”

“That’s the same thing?”

“Noooo! No, no! I mean, like, a sleepover! I give ya some sorta pyjamas, an’ we fall asleep together in my bed! It’d be like cuddlin’ on th’ couch except, y’know, not on a couch. An' we'd have a blanket.” The blathering explanation helped lift the stress off Damien’s shoulders. He glanced down to his phone and, with a wistful smile, put it down on the table.

“I think I’d quite like that.”

He wouldn’t tell Damien, but Wilford went out of his way to make the preparation for bed as goofy and light-hearted as possible. Even if they were simply sharing a bed, the miscommunication had made poor Damien’s nerves jump, and that wasn’t fair at all! It was why they spent a solid twenty minutes going through the contents of Wilford’s wardrobe to decide which pyjamas Damien should wear. According to Wilford, it needed to be ‘as cute as possible’, so not just anything would do. It was also a chance to show off his clothes, like the tank top with a cartoon pair of sneakers wearing matching sunglasses, or his pink bear onesie. The sillier, the better, all to make Damien smile.

“Wait! This oughta do!” A pale grey hoodie was pulled out from a shelf, and Damien was quick to grab the rest of the bundle before it toppled to the floor and return it to the rightful place. “This is a lounge hoodie. It’s made from fluffy pj material so ya can cuddle an’ be all soft in it!” He offered a sleeve to Damien, who couldn’t help but agree that it was exactly as described. It was hastily placed in Damien’s arms as inspiration struck. “Oh! An’ it’d look so cute with these pants! They’re comfy an' stylish.” The pants - black with pink moustaches dotted around them - were held out on full display with such bravado that Damien snorted.

“You really do buy everything that has a moustache theme, don’t you?”

“Bonus points if it’s pink,” Wilford winked.

The pair took turns in the bathroom to perform their night time routines. While waiting for Damien, Wilford began quickly tidying around to make sure everything looked perfect. He made the bed twice, and fluffed the pillows as hard as possible to make them super soft. Then, as he debated whether to grab a teddy bear to give Damien, out came the Mayor.

Damien was not as large as Wilford, which meant the hoodie turned into a glorified night gown. So much so, the end of the sleeves needed to be rolled up to reveal his hands. The pyjama pants had elastic at the waist, so at least they could safely stay in place. With his hair loose and casually brushed to the side, Wilford couldn't ignore the reality that he was dating the cutest man in the entire world. He would gladly kill for Damien.

"It doesn't look too ridiculous, does it?" Damien wrung his hands in a familiar act of nervousness. Wilford hurried over, pulled Damien close, and kissed both cheeks.

"Yer too fuckin' cute, angel."

The couple enjoyed cuddling on the couch, so it was a natural progression once Damien gained a little more confidence about sharing a bed. At first, they sat together like they would on the couch and chatted casually. Then, once Damien grew tired, they settled to sleep, opting to take a half of the bed each. Wilford did find himself staying awake a little longer to make sure Damien was sound asleep, before rolling over and dozing off.

Just as the sun began to rise, Wilford was yanked out of sleep with the sensation of something pressing against his stomach. His eyes shot open in case that blasted librarian in his dream had gone through with their idea of using the ivy from a garden store to put people into giant empty books, only to instead see someone curled up against his side with an arm draped across the reporter’s stomach and their head against his chest. For an instant, he couldn't remember what happened last night, but relief quickly swamped him as the memories came back to him.

“Mornin’, Damien.” Wilford lifted a hand to rest on Damien’s shoulder and rub small circles with his thumb.

“Mmrgh,” the eloquent mayor murmured against Wilford’s chest. He took a long breath in to give himself the energy to move, but only went as far as leaning more against Wilford to look up at him. “Sorry… I felt warmth beside me." His hair was a mess and his eyes were heavy with sleep, but Wilford couldn't shake the fact that Damien was utterly adorable. As though aware of the thoughts bouncing around Wilford's mind, he smiled as he quietly added, "Plus, I've never woken up beside someone before… It's a nice feeling."

"Isn't it? Lyin' in bed, feelin' all relaxed with yer lover beside ya… It's like th' rest of th' world doesn't exist."

Damien hummed in agreement, settling back against Wilford. "I should have believed you last night. I'm sorry if I made things awkw-" Wilford interrupted with a shush and a quick squeeze.

"I should've asked th' question better. I'm sorry for scarin' ya. But I'm glad ya decided ta stay. It's Saturday, an' we're not workin' today…" Wilford trailed off with a raised eyebrow. Damien, with a brain that refused to wake up, squinted at Wilford with a frown as he tried to figure out what was supposed to finish that sentence. Fortunately, Wilford could see the struggle. "It means we can go back ta sleep. Th' world's not lookin' fer us right now."

Now that sounded like a plan Damien could work with. He gave a content hum as he nestled against Wilford again. This time, he felt Wilford's arm keeping him close. As he quickly surrendered to sleep, the thought crossed his mind as to whether this was what 'home' meant.

#writersofmark #Wilford Warfstache #mayor damien #modern au #fanfic #fluff #(read-more is for tidiness! :D )

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childishfluff · 3 years

Text

Three Littles, Two Stacks of TNT, and A Boring Day- [Dream SMP Agere/CGLRE Fic]//Littles!Tommy,Tubbo, and Karl+CG!Wilbur

Summary: What happens when the three littles of the SMP (Tommy, Tubbo, and Karl) somehow end up without supervision and two stolen stacks of TNT? Nothing good, surely.

A/N: This whole thing is basically: toddler/kiddo regressor!Tommy causing chaos because he's bored and dragging his friends into it. also, this takes place before the L'manburg election, so things haven't gone to shit yet, everyone's just vibing. Also also! This is meant to portray the characters the streamers play in the smp, not the real people. If anyone involved says anything about being uncomfortable with this type of content I will take it down and/or modify it appropriately.

It wasn't a secret that Tommy liked chaos.

This didn't change when he was in the mindset of a kid, either. Sure, when he was thinking like a toddler, he was much more calm. Cuddly, he was good even. But if he was anywhere over 6 years old, he was bound to get into trouble. That's why Wilbur was there, to keep him (and Tubbo), out of trouble, even if that didn't work very well.

Of course, Tommy had regressed the one day Wilbur was busy with responsibilities involving L'manburg, assuring the older man that he'd be fine on his own. The moment Wilbur had left him to his own devices, Tommy was looking for Tubbo.

He found him sitting in a patch of grass, weaving together flowers into a crown. Tubbo could only be described as soft while he was little. He was younger then Tommy most of the time, and he always needed some form of guidance.

Which is why it was a bit odd that he was alone.

"Tommy!" Tubbo made grabby hands towards his friend immediately, setting the flower crown on the ground and jumping up. "Wilbur's busy n' m' aloneee," Tubbo pouted, pulling him into a hug. Tommy knew that he was next in line to Wilbur when it came to caring for Tubbo.

Tommy wasn't planning to be little or anything today. He just wanted to grab his friend, and go cause some form of chaos with the explosive devices he may or may not have stolen from Dream. He could cause chaos with a toddler, right?

"Tubbo, do you wanna hang out with me today?" Tommy asked. Tubbo's face lit up, and he nodded quickly.

"Mhm, mhm, mhm!" he giggled a bit, before dragging Tommy behind him back over to the grass he was sitting in. Tubbo wore a white shirt, and pastel yellow overalls, with little bees stitched into them. The outfit was undeniably adorable. Tubbo plopped down, returning to his process of making a flower crown.

There was one problem with Tommy attempting to take care of Tubbo. Tubbo being little almost always made Tommy little. His immediate response to being around his toddler-minded friend was to act as his older, protective, bad influence friend. Tommy would get them into trouble, but also keep him safe.

He could still be that while big, right?

"Yous feelin' small too, Toms?" Tubbo spoke in a high-pitched babyish voice that everyone knew all too well. Most people in the SMP would just leave them alone if they had nothing nice to say if they came across them while little. For the longest time, Wilbur and Techno would protect the only two littles they knew in the land.

More recently, though, Karl revealed himself as a little to them. He didn't make a point to keep it a secret, he just didn't see it to be relevant until he was really bored and he saw that they were little too and he just really wanted someone to play with.

"Noooo," Tommy shook his head quickly, holding out his word as if it'd make it more true.

"B-but I wanna play! Can we play please?" Tubbo pouted. He paused his crown-making process to give Tommy a pleading look.

"I wanted to do something fun today, but it's kinda scary..." he trailed off. Tubbo tilted his head, so Tommy leaned closer, speaking just so he could hear as if anyone else was listening. There were a few people nearby, due to the fact that they were sitting in grass near the main path that connected almost everything throughout the SMP, but no one close enough to listen in on their words.

"I have TNT. I wanted to blow up something." Tommy told him.

Tubbo gasped, his eyes going wide. "You're gonna get in trouble! Wilbur's gonna put you in timeout for a million-bajillion years!" he exclaimed dramatically, causing Tommy to giggle. When had he started giggling? Why was he suddenly acting like a child?

"Not if I don't get caught," Tommy corrected, shaking his head. "You in?"

Tubbo shook his head. "Don't wanna get in twouble." He tied off his flower crown, made up of plants with purple petals, observing his new creation in his hands.

"Come oooon," Tommy whined, pouting a bit. "If we get caught, I'll take da blame, okay? It'll be fun! We'll blow something up!" He spoke in an excited tone, trying to coax him.

"Explosions are cool!" Another voice joined the conversation, another guy approaching them. "What are we talking about?" Karl asked, sitting down in a crossed leg position. Karl was like Tommy. He could get as little as Tubbo, or as big as Tommy's real age. Sometimes, regressing back just a few years could help.

Right now though, it was easily to tell that he felt like a kid. He looked about as old at Tommy felt, with his blue hoodie and simple sweatpants. He could pass as a big kid if it weren't for his demeanor, and the stickers across his face. Multicolored hearts and stars danced across his cheeks like freckles, obviously placed there to make him look more childlike.

"I have some of Dream's TNT. I wanted to blow shit up!" Tommy cheered, not bothering with the whole 'whispering' thing anymore. None of the littles caught it, but Badboyhalo was walking by when he shouted that, sending a concerned glance their way. He'd be sure to find Wilbur soon and let him know that the boys were little and looking for trouble.

"Toms! No bad words!" Tubbo whined. "We should just all be good babies and keep making flower crowns!" Tubbo huffed, looking between Karl and Tommy hopefully. They both disagreed.

"Flower crowns are boringgg." Karl said, upsetting the younger little quite a bit, who held his flower crown close to his chest. As if he was "protecting" it from Karl.

"There's nothing else to do!" Tubbo claimed, huffing and dropping the crown onto his own head of fluffy hair.

"Which is why we need to find something to do. Cause chaos! Set shit on fire!" Tommy stated, obviously little at this point. He was lingering about 10 or 11, the perfect age to advocate for anarchy. "Break every rule! And then hide it so that we don't get in trouble."

"I'm in!" Karl stated. Karl didn't really have anything to lose. He didn't have any official caregiver. And therefore, no one to tell him what to do. He could get into all the trouble he wanted with no consequences whatsoever. Tommy looked to Tubbo.

"Since Wilbur is busy, I'm technically in charge of you. And I can't leave you alone," Tommy pointed out, pouting in an attempt to convince him. "Please, Tubs? You'll be da best friend ever!" he exclaimed.

Tubbo hesitated, before nodding slowly. "B-but we has to go get me somet'ing," he mumbled.

"What do you need?" Karl questioned, tilting his head and examining the other little.

"Paci and stuffie," Tubbo said shyly, bringing his thumb to his lip.

"Oh," Tommy said, "Mkay. Baby stuff for Tubs, then chaos!" he decided, jumping up out of his spot. Tommy was clad in his usual red and white shirt, and normal pants. "I want overalls too. Can I borrow some of yours?" he asked, looking to his, currently smaller, buddy.

Tubbo nodded, taking his hand when he outstretched it, standing up. Karl got up as well. Tommy felt uncomfortable in his current clothes, feeling to...big? He wanted to have something childish about his outfit too, like Tubbo's flower crown or Karl's stickers! Overalls would have to do the trick.

They made their way back into L'manburg, retrieving the stuff they needed and successfully escaping without anyone seeing them. "Look at me!" Tommy said, spinning around as he walked, newly clad in black overalls over his usual shirt. "Anyways...we most plan," he hummed, looking around as he walked down the main path.

Karl held Tubbo's hand, leading him behind them. The three year old held a bee plushie in his free arm, a yellow decorated pacifier sitting in his mouth. "We could get food at the Catfe, and plan there!" Karl suggested.

Big Karl had helped build the cat-themed cafe himself, and he had no doubt that Eret would give them some food. "We can't tell him what we're doing, boys. He'll go straight to Wilby," Tommy told them, taking the route he knew would lead them to the cafe. "We need to get food, hopefully with no charge because I only have TNT on me, go to a far corner of the place, and discuss our plans."

Tommy spoke ever so seriously in his childlike voice, his fellow little companions agreeing to his plans. He treated this whole thing like a super important mission, the goal being that he got to see something explode, and the worst possible outcome being that Wilbur caught him.

"Hi, Eret!" Karl swung open the door, greeting the person behind the counter. He looked over the three boys, immediately coming to the conclusion that they were all regressed.

"Shouldn't you boys be with a caregiver? Where's Wilbur? Should I call him?" Eret questioned, rummaging around for their phone.

"No!" Tommy interrupted. Eret gave him a curious glance, seemingly concerned. "Wilby's busy," he said, calmer and more innocently, blinking at him with a slightly babyish pout. "We don't want to interrupt him."

Tommy's whole 'innocent act' actually worked pretty well on Eret. "Are you sure, sweetie? I don't think he'd mind if-"

"Nope! Please don't call him," Tommy grabbed Karl and Tubbo quickly, dragging them out of the shop without another word.

"Why'd you do that? I wanted fooood," Karl whined, still following Tommy as he was dragged along. Tommy didn't reply at first, waiting until they were a good distance away to stop and face his two confused friends.

"New plan, we don't plan," he said, only confusing them further as he took a deep breath. "We don't have time for that. Eret's gonna call Wilbur and I want to blow something up before I have to sit in the timeout corner for seventeen billion years. Kay?"

"If we run far enough, we might be able to get it done and cover it up. And we can come up with something to tell Wilbur, so you get in less trouble," Karl suggested, looking behind him and acting as their guard.

"Good idea," Tommy nodded a bit. "Think as we go. Follow me, we're gonna put these in a hill far away, though blowing up a building would be cool," he sighed. He knew that blowing up a building would only get him in trouble with the owners on said building, so he settled on creating a totally non-suspicious hole in the ground.

It'd still be cool.

As they walked off, away from the SMP and any sort of building, Tubbo seemed to get increasingly nervous. Wilbur was gonna be really mad and he didn't want Wilbur to be mad at him! He didn't want Tommy getting in trouble either!

Plus, they had a rule that they were supposed to stay within the main SMP and L'manburg while little, and around an adult they could ask for help if they needed it. "We're not supposed to go dis far, Tommy," Tubbo said, as Tommy placed TNT along the outside of a small hill, that was flat on the top.

"Yeah, and? I stole, am doing something "dangerous", and I lied to an adult." Tommy shrugged, coming over and patting Tubbo's head softly. Karl came back from setting down the last of the TNT, approaching the area they stood at a little bit away. Tommy prepared to light the dynamite.

"I'm already in lots of trouble."

Tommy's actions were interrupted by a stern, obviously disappointed voice approaching them.

"Damn right you are."

Everyone paused, no one knowing what to say. Tommy shifted in place sheepishly, looking down at his feet. He broke the silence, speaking in the same fake ever-so-innocent tone he did with Eret.

"Hi, Wilby. How was work?"

"You interrupted my work, stole from the enemy, put yourself and your friends in danger, and broke so many other rules," Wilbur paced around the room, Tommy watching him from the chair he sat in in the corner. Tommy was nervous, even though he knew that the punishments couldn't possibly be that bad. "All in the name of what? Chaos?" he scoffed, running his fingers through his hair as he took a breath.

He looked to Tommy, "What do you have to say for yourself?" he asked. "You're big enough to know that you shouldn't have done that. Shit, Tubbo, who's mentally three right now, knew that what you did was wrong. Do you have any explanation?"

Tommy shook his head, looking down. His eyes teared up as he panicked. He deserved this. He did something wrong and now he was being lectured. Yeah, it was scary. But he was in trouble, he couldn't do anything to fix this.

It was his fault.

"Look at me when I'm speaking to you, Tommy," Wilbur instructed, speaking rather harshly. Tommy glanced up, locking his teary eyes with Wilbur's disappointed ones.

"m' sorry," he sobbed out, bringing his thumb to his lip. When he was smaller, he listened better. He just wanted to be good for Wilbur. So it made a little sense that when Wilbur scolded him for not being good, his first response was to regress to a headspace where he was more likely too.

Wilbur sighed, coming forward to his chair, crouching down to his height. "Shh, shh, you're okay," he cooed, pulling him into a tight and cuddly hug. When he pulled away, he used his hands to brush away Tommy's tears. "You broke a lot of rules today, but I think you understand that. I'm gonna ask you to apologize to Dream, when you're big again. Tubbo and Karl too. And Eret."

"Das..." Tommy trailed off, looking down to his hand and finger counting. "4! 4 sowwy's." he nodded, as if assuring himself that he was right.

"Mhm," Wilbur hummed in affirmation. "And next time you feel small while I'm busy, can you try and follow the 'stay by an adult' rule? If it wasn't for Eret and Bad, you guys could've really got hurt. Things like this are the reason why we don't leave littles unsupervised," Wilbur chuckled, tapping the button of Tommy's nose and getting him to smile. He leaned closer to him, speaking more quietly as if his next words were a secret.

"Especially not with TNT."

Tommy giggled, not crying anymore. "M' sorry," he mumbled again, apologizing despite the fact that he didn't have to.

"You're alright. New rule, no explosives in littlespace, okay?"

Tommy nodded, wondering if there was more to his punishment. "More twouble?" he asked, slipping his thumb into his mouth. Wilbur tsked, pulling it away from his mouth before replying to the baby's question.

"Until further notice, your restricted to L'manburg while little, okay? You have to ask to go outside of those walls, and if you do, I'll be with you. Don't get upset if Tubbo gets to go play in places that you don't, okay?"

Tommy whined, upset by this. Karl wasn't allowed in L'manburg. We wanted to be able to see his little friend. It'd really suck if something dumb that he did was was ended their already short friendship. "B-but Karl-" he stuttered out.

Wilbur interrupted him, "Is allowed in L'manburg now." he finished for him. Tommy tilted his head curiously, obviously a little confused. Wilbur took his hands in his, giving the little a serious look.

"You might be in trouble, but I would never stop you from seeing one of your friends as a punishment. Even if they're American," he joked, only earning a slight smile from Tommy. "I'm only making you stay in L'manburg because it's easier to have people keep an eye on you here. If there's anything you want me to bring in for you, I can. We'll slowly extend how far you can go over the next few days, okay?"

Tommy nodded, humming. "Das it?" he brought his thumb back to his mouth, pouting when it was pulled away again.

"Yep," Wilbur confirmed, standing up properly and lifting Tommy onto his hip. "We'll worry about those 4 'sowwy's' later, yeah? How about we go out and play with Tubs and Karl?"

He walked over to another part of the room, locating Tommy's pacifier. He lifted it to Tommy's lips, the boy taking it into his mouth before burying his face in Wilbur's shoulder. After a moment, he was sat on the ground. "Wilby," he whined in response to the loss of affection. He looked up to a stuffed cow being held just above his head. He giggled, taking in and lowering it into his arms, hugging it close.

"Can you get up and walk for me, sweetheart?" Wilbur asked, reaching out his hand to help the toddler-minded boy up. Tommy pouted, shaking his head and making grabby hands for the carer. Wilbur sighed with a chuckle, lifting him back up. He brought him outside, where Tubbo and Karl were already waiting.

As soon as Wilbur set him near them, he was attacked with hugs by the other two littles. "Look, Toms! I made you a crown too!" Tubbo giggled around his paci, hovering the white petaled flower craft above Tommy's head. Tommy gave a slight nod, allowing him to plop it onto his head.

Tommy giggled, noticing that Karl had a blue one. "We're all flower princes!" Karl exclaimed, seemingly a bit younger now as well. With the crazy day that they had, it wasn't shocking that they regressed a bit younger.

No more TNT, or rule breaking. Just flower crowns and friends, in cuddle piles with stuffies and snacks. It was much more calm, with no more Tommy induced chaos. Though, if you said anything to him about his rule breaking and chaos creating habits while big, he'd defend his bratty behavior with just a few words...

"It's not my fault it's boring around here."

A/N: so uh...this is the first agere thing I've written for this fandom, making this one the fourth fandom I've written littlespace stuff for? I really hope I did well portraying the characters and the dynamics between them. I honestly didn't mean for it to be as tommy-centric as it was but I kinda feel like it made the most sense given the plot and how things play out. I also made a point to show how one of his main traits while big, starting conflict and chaos with others when he's bored, translated into his littlespace. Did I do a good job at that? Just reply with/reblog with/send an ask with your thoughts on anything and maybe request something? I can't guarantee that I'll get to it/that I will feel comfortable writing it but I can try!

#dream team smp #dream smp #tommyinnit #karl jacobs #tubbo #wilbur soot #badboyhalo #he's mentioned like once #eret #dream smp agere #dream smp age regression #little!tommyinnit #little!tubbo #little!karl #cg!wilbur

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whumpmatsus · 3 years

Note

Atsushi x Todo. Maybe Todomatsu has a ankle dislocation after a bike crash and Atsushi being the supportive boyfriend brings him to the Hospital and stays overnight?

aah, I don't really ship them?? I mean, I like them as friends, but for some reason I don't ship any of the canon characters together/like any of the canon ships and I like to focus on reader inserts and family fics with the brothers XD

but I'm fine to write these two in a shippy thing though, interesting dynamic to explore, and I headcanon Totty as pansexual, so, no problems writing it occasionally!

I hope it's okay haha, I've never written Atsushi before and he's not my usual 'type' so it might not be that great, hopefully still enjoyable tho <3

“Totty…”

“Yeah?”

“Are you sure you should be taking pictures of it? … And posting them??”

Totty snaps one more photo of his injured foot, giving a small cringe as he looks at the screen to put a filter on it. “Well, yeah… how else are people gonna know that I’m in pain and need attention?”

Atsushi rolls his eyes and pulls out his own cellphone. Far be it from him to tell his boyfriend what to do online, but… “The drugs are probably kicking in. You’re delusional.”

“Noooo…” Totty frowns as he glances away from his phone to focus on his ankle for a minute. Although they did give him some painkillers, and it feels better than it did when he first got here, it’s not great. This serves him right for thinking only shoulders could get dislocated, doesn’t it? “It still hurts. Look at it!”

“Yeah, I’m looking at it, babe.”

“Ooh, perv.” He wiggles his toes with a playful grin. “Is this what turns you on? Feet? And just when I thought I had all your kinks figured out. Hey, you can touch it, if you really want.”

Atsushi’s response is to, with the most deadpan look on his face, poke a single digit against Totty’s ankle. Not enough pressure that someone could accuse him of being cruel, though it might get the point across.

Predictably, the other man jumps about a mile. That simple touch sent an electric shock through his body, like someone had just rubbed salt in an open wound. “OW! Oh, my God, that hurt!!”

“Kind of my point.” To apologize, he reaches over to take Totty’s hand, rubbing the side gently with one thumb. “Do you really need to be giving your almost-broken-ankle a photo shoot and scumming for sympathy online? I’m right here to give you some, and you’ve also, you know… got five brothers who are gonna swarm all over you when I take you home.”

Totty huffs and brings Atsushi’s hand up to press against his cheek. He’s partially right, anyway. “Yeah, okay. Karamatsu’s gonna write an entire Greek tragedy about my suffering, Ichimatsu’s gonna withhold an ice pack till I’ve sufficiently begged for it, Choromatsu’s gonna lecture me about wearing fucking ankle pads, Jyushimatsu will end up hitting it with his baseball bat, and Osomatsu will make me hobble to the fridge and get him a beer. They’re pricks.”

“Tch, they’re also your brothers. Don’t forget you’re a prick, too. You belong to them, so they won’t be that bad. They’ll circle around you chanting, ‘One of us, one of us’ and shove aspirin down your throat.” Atsushi’s eyes drift back down to the injury, and he finds himself wincing.

Honestly, it looks like Totty’s ankle went a few rounds with a sledgehammer. It’s swollen all the way down to the base where his toes meet the rest, and mottled with purplish-blue bruises. Despite the fact that it looks a lot better than the bloody, twisted mess it was when he first got Totty to the hospital, it’s certainly not any less painful.

Seems like Totty is thinking the same thing, because his hand drifts down for his fingertips to brush against it. He jolts again, just like he did when his boyfriend touched it. A tiny whimper slips out and a shoulder catches his head when he leans over for a pity party. “Owwww… dammit. This sucks! How am I supposed to do anything like this? I’m gonna be useless for… how long did the doctor say? Six to eight weeks?”

“Yeah, well, everyone else is gonna have to pick up the slack. I’ll do what I can, you know? At least you don’t live on your own.” Atsushi circles an arm around Totty’s shoulders with a sigh. “And I’m sure your boss will give you a break since you’re, like… broken bone adjacent. It’s not like you’re gonna be sitting around in pain and unable to do anything. You’re so dramatic.”

Totty hums. “You wouldn’t have me any other way, though, right?”

“Yep.” Atsushi kisses his cheek, prompting Totty to melt into the embrace fully, complete with fake-flustered cooing noises. “If you really feel like you need to take pictures and beg people to feel sorry for you online, go ahead and do it. But just remember who’s feeling the most sorry for you, who’s here in real life, and who’s willing to kiss the pain away.”

“Awww… so poetic. Huh, maybe I can take some pictures later and show people how great you’re taking care of me! Right? That would be fun.” Totty grins and pulls his injured ankle a little closer, still pouting at it.

Atsushi snorts as he takes another look at the injury. “Damn. Guess that’s the last time you try to show off for the ladies at my office by showing them how environmentally conscious you are, riding a bike to visit me. Why are you even trying to impress other people, anyway? I’m, like… right here. Perfect hair and all, you know.”

“Wow, who’s being dramatic now?” Totty laughs. “I’m happy with you. Buuuut, if we impress girls, we get a chance at a threesome. Huh, gee, though… you’re right about how we try to do it. The bike thing is played out. Who am I trying to fool? I already go to the gym and walk most places, I don’t need to ride a bike.”

Geez. “Never a dull moment with you, Totty.” He leans over to shut his boyfriend up with another kiss, this time on the lips. “You’ll apparently have plenty of time to brainstorm strategies, lazing around with that hurt foot and all. Luckily, though, the only person who’ll be around to take advantage of your stupid puppy face is me.”

Totty raises an eyebrow and flutters his eyes to get another kiss, humming into the contact. “Oh, good. Because I was thinking, my brothers will probably fawn over me for the first day or so, I can milk it that long, I think, but… after that, they’ll get sick of me asking for stuff pretty quick.”

He hooks both arms around Atsushi’s neck. “Soooo, after those first few days… they’ll be pretty happy for me to go sleep over at your house so you can deal with me. Hell, I bet they’ll send you a fruit basket for putting up with my needy ass! Maybe after I’ve gotten a bunch of pity from them, I can crash at your place for a few days.”

“Hm.” Atsushi presses his forehead against Totty’s with a devious smirk that shows they’re definitely on the same wavelength. “Then after a few days with me… they’ll be missing you and wanting to fuss over you again. Rinse and repeat. You get literally all of the attention from everyone, your brothers treat me like a saint for dealing with you, and they’re all way too dumb to realize they’re being yo-yo’d into taking care of you and your ego.”

Totty squeals and snuggles close, being careful not to bump his foot when he moves. “Oh, my God. I knew there was a reason I loved you!”

“Besides my ass, you mean?”

“… Oh. Yeah. Besides that, uh-huh.”

#Osomatsu san #whump #Totsushi #Totty #Atsushi #dislocation #bruises #hospital stay #these two are awful they deserve each other XD #go on Totty.......... go home and get bounced between your brothers and your boyfriend fussing over you haha

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