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llamagoddessofficial · 3 years

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Thank you @eldritch-and-tired for commissioning this lil’ /Reader piece of @megalommi‘s Sans, Baggs. I will ALWAYS be a simp for this sexyman. Enjoy!!

Tw: injections, unwilling hypnosis/mind control

...

You giggled.

The light was so pretty. Swirling, undulating, cyan and magenta warping and shifting in and out of one another in an endless hypnotising rhythm. It made you think of a funfair... spirals everywhere, from the tops of the stalls to the decorations on the rides, to the signs leading you around to those huge lollipops that tasted tooth-meltingly sweet. Happy memories, carefree, far away and non-solid but still wonderful. What were you doing? You couldn’t remember anything. You liked blue and purple, they were everywhere, all around you, such pretty colours.

Pretty, pretty...

“... there we go. easy now.”

... You didn’t realise he was even there until he (somewhat cautiously?) spoke. Your senses were just colours. The voice was odd and a bit disembodied at first but slowly, slowly, you became aware of its source- a face hovering just over you. The awareness spread to your body, too... you were bent at an odd angle with your feet just barely lifted off the floor, your back flat on a rather uncomfortable table, gravity pulling your hair and cheeks. And he... he was just a few inches over you, pinning you by one of your wrists.

...

A tight and tense, cutting smile, clear signs of stress around his face and shoulders making it obvious that this was the smile of a man on the edge and not one of any particular joy. Deep sockets, so wide they looked borderline painful, glaring down at you with so much intensity...

... You could feel his body heat. And his breath against your face. Your heartbeat, your slightly itchy nose, how tight he was holding your wrist.

“... Mh... Huh?” You said, ever-so articulately, vision spinning in the same direction as the swirls emanating from his left socket. A similar way to how the world rocked when you were dizzy... except for you, it never righted itself. It just kept spinning and spinning and spinning. Everything was so bright, as you fell under a pleasant fuzzy sensation burrowed into your chest and mind, blanketing your thoughts as if you were just in the middle of a nice dream where nothing much mattered.

“shh...”

When he gently closed his gloved fingers around something you had gripped in your pinned hand, you put up no fuss, loosening your hold and allowing him to take it... when did you pick up a scalpel? What an odd thing to have. The back of your head hurt and your knuckles felt the telltale aches of having been tense a few moments ago, even though they were now just an unwound coil like the rest of you.

... Dr. Baggs let out a long slow, breath. You could feel it against your nose and neck, he was that close... his mouth open barely a crack, the magenta hue of his tongue glinting against his fangs.

“... alright.” He said, voice silky, gentle on your thrumming ears and head, sockets easing around the edges as he calmed down. The bluish shadows of sleep deprivation under them became more apparent as the tension in the room, face and posture waned. “that’s better.”

... Yeah. You thought, relaxed and calm. It is.

... He gave you the bare minimum of personal space, leaning back and helping you to sit, lifting you with the perfect combination of gentle but firm as if he knew you’d immediately feel so dizzy when you became upright. Your hands moved up and held onto his shoulders to steady yourself- the fabric of his lab coat was surprisingly soft, it was very nice to touch.

... He was so close. Supportive but strict hands on your elbows, your knees on either side of him, he smelled like... the artificial flavouring they added candy that just wasn’t quite natural. And a specific, scented brand of antiseptic; clean and sterile and prepared.

“... well.” He hummed, reaching out of sight for something with one hand. Your forehead would bump his collarbone if you leant forward any more. His voice was so soothing and calming, especially since you were only a few inches from his clavicle... you were getting pretty close to shutting your eyes at this point, but a prick in your arm kept you from completely nodding off- you barely noticed it, too busy studying the aesthetically pleasing purple trim to his coat and enjoying the funny fuzzy sensation in your chest and temples. Oh, he suddenly had a full syringe in his hand that he was putting a cap on... where did he get that?

“i knew from the start you’d be uncooperative, but... not that kind of uncooperative.”

He held something up to your face. You opened your mouth, (wait, why am I opening my mouth...) and he quickly placed it on your tongue. You swallowed, again, without knowing why... it was like your body was following a list of instructions that you couldn’t see or hear. Someone else had taken the wheel; tugging the right strings to make the right parts of you move when they were needed.

... You didn’t think about it much. No panic, no confusion, no considering the implications. The thoughts were disconnected... just ships in the night, sailing by your muffled brain. All you could really think about was how whatever he’d given you was very strange and bitter and ew, you cringed, an odd acrid taste lingering in the back of your throat.

... Another prick in your arm. That’s weird, he keeps pricking me. Oh well. This time, you looked just in time to see him removing a now-empty syringe; he wiped where he’d poked your forearm with something very cold, then placed a little circular red band-aid over it.

...

There were six other band-aids on that forearm. Two green, three navy, one black... and now the red one.

Hm... I feel like I should be alarmed by that...

Again, all you could think about was how nice you felt right now. Dizzy, warm, safe. Like you’d had a little too much to drink, but now you were laying out in the sun with your friends... I miss the sun...

“most of my ‘patients’ are at least... consistent.” Baggs hummed, continuining to hold you carefully by the elbows, predicting your post-jab swaying. He didn’t seem to realise he was talking aloud, just a scientist observing his experiment, and you weren’t really paying enough attention to what he was actually saying- too many words to process, boooring. “uncooperative awake, uncooperative under. you’re always displaying aggression toward me... and yet as soon as you have no control, there’s an obediency so immediate it’s borderline subconscious. rather fascinating.”

Instead, you...

“... Sexy voice.”

...

“... what?”

Apparently, that was enough to finally break him out of his thoughts. You glanced up at Baggs’ face, still only a few inches away, you kept forgetting where things were around you... the cushion around your soul never wavered but for a moment there was a little blip in the swirls. A slight interruption.

“Mmmhm.”

...

... His expression sort of... well, ‘melted’ was the wrong word. It was more akin to the sun peeking out from between two clouds. The detached, observational, scientific air to him thinned and began to evaporate... revealing something a little more warm.

The razor and unfriendly edges of his smile were rounding into something organic. Perhaps even, daresay, resembling forward.

“my.” He purred. “how forward of you.”

“S’very nice. Very smooth...” Your tongue felt... eh. And your arm, where he’d poked you, was starting to itch. “And you have a nice face too... handsome man. I think so.”

...

His smile started growing even more, and he leaned back an inch or two as if to look at all of you and make sure you were really the same person he’d brought into this examination room less than an hour ago. “... oh really?”

“Yeah...” ... Your hands had been just holding onto his coat... but, spurred on by your sudden drunken confidence, you properly looped them around his neck.

... He blinked, but he only let himself appear taken aback for a moment or two. Despite how ominously his magenta eyelights glowed in his dark, shadowed sockets... you could tell he was enjoying himself, and this sudden turn of events. “i’m flattered.”

You laid your head on his chest. It was getting kinda hard to stay upright.

... Your nose scrunched.

“Funky smell, though.”

That was enough to get an actual laugh out of him- albeit shortlived, his skull cocking like a curious mirthful bird. “are you... genuinely telling me that i smell, darling?”

“Yeah. Because it’s true. You’re gremlin.”

“i’m... gremlin?”

“Mhm.”

“stars. i wish i could tell pap about this.”

Your body shifted, enough to make you lightly squeak- things were spinning so much that it took you a minute to realise Baggs had picked you up, an arm hooked under your legs and another around your back.

“you’re all done for the day, pet.” His eyelights had become a thrumming, almost amethyst colour as he looked at you, a far gentler shade of purple than his previous headache-inducing magenta. You weren’t sure what’d caused that but you weren’t complaining. You weren’t sure what’d caused him to carry you either, considering he usually just brought someone to collect his ‘patients’ for him... but, again, not complaining. “it’s time to get back to your room.”

“I feel funny.” You mumbled.

“that’s normal.”

He started walking. The halls all looked the same, as he moved through them, blending into one another... white and sterile, a few doors dotted inbetween if you were lucky but mostly just the exact same tiles and patterns and lack of anything that would clue you into the fact that people had actually (at some point) existed in this area.

“Hm... is this where you work...?”

A little chuckle. He was sounding further and further away. “yes. this is my job, dear.”

“It’s so g... ug-ly.”

“oh? you think so?” Baggs’ tone had become... light? Perhaps a little teasing.

“Jus... put up some nice posters, or something.” Your head was so heavy. Since when was it this heavy? You had to rest it against his chest, feeling that nice fabric against your cheek, hearing an equally nice humming sound from inside his ribcage. “Paint the walls. It’s so... white. Clini... ...clinicic... Calic...”

“clinical?”

“... Yeah.Tthat.”

A gloved phalange touched your arm. It was probably an attempt at a comforting gesture- stroking the skin. “good to know. i’ll make sure to pass that eloquent advice along to the decorating team.”

“Good.”

He brought you to a cell-like room. It was... vaguely familiar? A bed with one pillow, thin white sheets... some strange posters and a window with bars over it. You felt like you’d spent a long time in there, but it was impossible to think straight enough to actually muster up any memories.

Baggs laid you down on the bed, slowly, handling you like you’d fall apart at any moment. You made a little noise- it wasn’t a very soft bed... but it was good enough. And your body felt so strange and tired that any soft surface honestly was nice enough to lay down on forever.

“comfy?” He asked. Since when did he inquire if you were comfy?

“M... no. S’whatever.”

...

You peeked at him, crouched by your bed... and you reached out, pressing your inexplicably heavy finger against the top of his nasal cavity in a booping motion. You mumbled a little victorious “Silly skeleton.”

...

He took your hand in his gloved one, gently, before it could go limp and flop down. You couldn’t really make out his expression at this point.

“don’t tell the other subjects...” He murmured... he sounded amused, at least. “but i think you’ve become my favourite.”

“Course.” You shut your eyes. “I’m... m’amazing.”

“... yes. course.”

A feeling, like a kiss on your hand, before he placed it by your side.

“... go to sleep.”

...

And just like that, your body obeyed him before your head could even process what he’d said, and you were asleep.

#commissions #megalosomnia #baggs sans #not my sans #but damn #i wish i was his [pensive emoji]#i fuckin LOVE writing hypnosis if you couldnt tell hfsdkjf

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queenmylovely · 2 years

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Day 28: Huddle for Warmth

pairing: Pedro Pascal x fem!reader

warnings: fluff and implied smut

words: 733

a/n: I wamt to cuddle

Last, Full List, Next

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When Pedro had told you about the light show in the botanical gardens that was going on throughout the winter you thought it sounded super fun. And it was! Everything looked so beautiful covered in lights and the botanical garden itself was a comfortable temperature since it was an enclosed space. But the walk home had been hell.

Since the two of you only lived a 15 minute walk and train ride from the gardens it didn’t make sense to drive or get a car, but that didn’t make the walk any warmer. And despite the fact that you were bundled up to the max, the wind and slight dampness in the air made you get chilled all the way to the bone.

Pedro, it seemed, was not as affected by you. Sure, he wasn’t enjoying the cold but he also wasn’t shivering so hard that his teeth were audible through a scarf around his mouth. You were.

You got irrationally angry at him for not being as freezing as you, blaming his burlier frame and calling him, “Burt Reynolds looking ass” in your head.

But as soon as you inside the apartment, it was him you were turning to for help getting warm. He suggested taking a hot bath but the idea of taking off any piece of clothing for even a second sounded like torture to you. Then he suggested tea and you said it would take too long. His final idea he didn’t tell you, just did it.

Pulling you over by the electric fireplace he turned it on at full blast and sat down criss cross in front of it. He pulled you down on top of him so you were sitting with your butt in his lap and your legs wrapped around his hips, the fire warm at your back. Thankfully, the one thing you had been willing to take off were your boots so they weren’t getting the rug wet.

Pedro unzipped his coat and pulled you closer into him so you could lay your head on his warm chest. Soon, with his warmth, the fire, and his big strong hands creating friction over your arms and back, you began to warm up and let him take off your and his coat, your hat, gloves, and scarf.

“My hands are still cold,” you told him in a small voice, feeling a little tired and a little silly.

“Poor girl, here,” Pedro took your hands in his and kissed each of your palms sweetly. Then he stuck them under his armpits.

You squealed in laughter and pulled them away, “Ew! No!”

Pedro grinned, “Do your own armpits then!”

“I don’t see why any armpits have to be involved,” you told him, eyes widening in disbelief but there was plenty of laughter in your voice.

“To warm your hands up, isn’t that obvious?” Pedro returned with that goofy smile of his.

You squinted, “Well maybe they’re not that cold actually.”

“Then why were you complaining?” Pedro countered.

“Yeah, I don’t think they’re cold at all. In fact, I bet they’ll feel nice and warm here,” you said, moving your hands up to touch the tender skin of Pedro’s neck and he squirmed away from you, landing with his palms behind him. Perfectly exposed for you to move your hands under the hem of his shirt to his soft tummy, “Or here!”

Pedro gasped at the cold and sat up, grabbing your hands with his. Then he maneuvered you until both were behind your back and he was holding them in place with a hand around your two wrists.

“Bad, bad girl. And here I was, helping you, warming you up,” he said, in mock disbelief, but still his words and the way his restraint of your arms lit a different kind of fire within you.

“I’m sorry,” you said, dropping your gaze to the floor. Or really Pedro’s lap since it was in the way. Then you looked back up and gave him your best sad eyes, “I’ll make it up to you.”

Immediately he could tell what you were angling for and he decided he would give it to you, on his terms of course.

“You better,” Pedro told you, leaning down and capturing your lips in an unexpectedly harsh kiss that made you moan in surprise against his mouth before you melted into it and into him.

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#its not letting me add the picture!!!#listen if there are any weird typos like me calling a cat a dog lmk and ill fix it #pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #fluff #smut #ish #blurb #qml december 21 #aerynwritesdc21

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autumnleaves1991-blog · 3 years

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If your still taking requests for smut prompts, 107 with Benny Miller, I'm a slut for smut with feelings with this man :)

Prompt 107: “I’m not jealous! it’s just…you’re mine!”

Pairing: Benny Miller x F! Reader

Warnings: 18 + for language, fighting (MMA), p in v sex, jealous Benny, Oral F! Receiving, spanking.

A Misunderstanding

Fish sits down beside you, handing you a beer topped off with foam. You put it to your mouth and took a sip, giggling when the foam coats your upper lip, "hey look, I look like you," you pat his shoulder and he bursts out laughing.

"God, you are perfect for him," he laughs.

You smile and turn back to the stage, seeing the announcer getting ready for the main event. You listen as he announces the two fighters and cheer loudly when Benny makes his way out of the smoke and shadow boxes the whole way to the cage. Will follows behind in his black sweatshirt, clapping and talking, keeping Ben focused.

"You think he goes home and has a sore throat from all this yelling?" you ask Fish over the announcer and he just chuckles. Fish was your best friend at these fights, keeping each other entertained with beer, snacks, and awful jokes.

Benny enters the cage, and his eyes find yours, and he winks. You put down your beer and jump out of your seat, cheering like an idiot; he just smiles, loving how much you support him. "That's my man!" you shout, and Fish just snorts into his beer before pulling you back down.

You press your shoulder against Fish, "I got a good feeling about this one," you mumble and watch the fighters hit gloves.

"You say that about every fight," he snarks back, and you grin.

"And when have I been wrong?" you put your head on his shoulder and turn back to the fight and notice the slightly distracted look on Benny's face before he shakes his head. Frankie sits closer to the edge of his seat and presses an affectionate kiss to the top of your head.

"Yeah, yeah, just watch the fight." He turns to smile at you, and you give him a hug before sitting up to enjoy watching Ben. Neither of you noticed him watching you the entire time.

The fight does not go the way you had planned; Benny won, but it was brutal, his opponent had to be taken out on a stretcher, and when you smile at him, he ignores you stalking toward the locker room. "What the hell was that about?" you ask Fish, who shrugs, looking equally confused.

"Come on, let's go see him," he takes your hand and leads you through the massive amount of people, trying to leave out the opposite direction. You flash your badges at the guards and enter the long hallway that leads to the locker room. Benny and Will are arguing in front of his changing room, and you catch the tail end of the conversation.

"-that's my fucking girl," Benny growls before they both turn, noticing you and Fish standing there. Benny takes a menacing step forward, "take your fucking hands off her."

Fish instantly drops your hand and raises both of his, "whoa, calm down, brother." Will puts his hand on Benny's chest, and you raise a brow looking between the three of them.

"Are you fucking serious?" you ask exasperated, "you-you think that Fish and I? Did you knock your head?!" Benny turns his eyes to you and pushes Will's handoff. "Are you jealous?"

His eyes widen when you put your hands on your hips and glare him down. He stutters, "I-I'm not jealous! It's just..."

"What?! What is it then?"

"YOU'RE MINE!" You open and close your mouth in shock, Fish and Will looking at him with wide eyes. He takes a step toward you, but you hold up your hand; he freezes in his track.

"Then take me," you whisper. You feel all their eyes on you, and Fish and Will have the good sense to leave, the two of you alone in the hallway.

"What?" Benny asks quietly, his hands fidgeting at his side; you can tell he wants to reach for you. "What did you say?"

"You heard me," you speak a little louder, "I'm yours, then take me, Ben." He closes the distance, and you yelp when he tosses you over his shoulder and steps into his locker room, closing the door behind him. He puts you down, and before you can say a word, he has you stripped naked and standing between his spread legs.

His hands come out, and he slaps your ass; the sting burns, and you groan, "say it again."

"I'm yours," you growl back, and he smiles.

"Face the wall," you turn at his command, and it only takes a second before his warm, rough hands glide over the skin of your ass, spreading you. "So fucking pretty." He pushes your back down further, and you bite your tongue to stop the scream as his tongue dives between your folds.

He laps his tongue back and forth, tasting you before spearing his tongue and dipping it into your drenched core. You always got turned on watching him fight, and there is something about him being jealous that has you soaked. "Mine," he growls, biting your ass and returning to your pussy, "touch yourself," he orders. You dip your fingers against your clit and rub as his tongue brings you to the edge, but before you cum he sits back, "stop."

Your foreheaded presses to the locker, and your right hand is dripping in your arousal. He pulls you back, and you bend at the waist; your head snaps up when you feel his cock drag through your folds before he starts to pull you down, impaling you. "Benny," you groan, putting your head on his shoulder; he drags your hand across your chest and sucks your arousal off your fingers before cupping both your breasts and bouncing you up and down.

At this angle, you can feel every delicious inch of him inside you. While Benny wasn't as thick, he was fucking long, and you swore you could feel him poking at your belly with how deep inside you he is. He plants his feet on the ground and fucks up into you, his balls slapping against your ass with each powerful thrust.

His back is sweaty from the fight, and it's like a slip and slide as you are raised and lowered on his cock. "Benny, Benny, please," you whimper, not even sure what you're begging for anymore. But Benny knows; he always knows. He brings one hand down to play with your clit while his other keeps a firm hand on your breasts, twisting the nipple between his rough fingertips.

"That's it, baby, soak my cock," he mumbles against your shoulder before he bites down hard. You clench around his cock like a vice at the combination of pleasure and pain. "Fuck, you're so tight," he slurs, his thrusts continuing to pound into your helpless pussy.

You've lost the ability to speak, reduced to nothing but a salivating doll for him to fuck. "I'm close," he moans against your cheek, turning your head and fusing his mouth with yours. His kiss swallows your screams as you cum, flooding his cock; at the same time, he fills you full of his cum. His tongue tangles with yours as you both ride out your highs, rolling your hips, hanging onto the last tendrils of pleasure.

He struggles to catch his breath as he pulls back and presses his forehead to your shoulder, his lips kissing gently over his mark. "Are-are you okay?" he pants out, and you nod, leaning back against his chest.

"I'm more than okay," you huff out a laugh, "did that clear everything up for you?"

"What?" he asks, pushing you to stand and turning you to face him; he brushes his hand against your cheek, "what do you mean?"

"I mean," you brush the hair off his forehead, "there is no one else on this earth I love as much as you, and you are a fool if you think anything different. There will never be anyone else but you; I'm yours, Benjamin Miller, forever."

You wipe the tears that stream down his cheek, and he presses his head against your chest and places a gentle kiss. "So I say again, does that clear everything up for you?"

He raises his head with a watery smile, "Yeah, baby, I understand, and I love you too. I'll never doubt you again."

@lunarthoughts @jedi-mando @idreamofboobear @aerolanya @rebelliouscat @darklingveracruz @marvelprincess1994 @thirstworldproblemss @spacelatinoss @martellthemandalor @kesskirata @waatermelon-sugaar @jitterbugs927 @helga1031 @greeneyedblondie44 @mamacitapascal @oldstuffnewstuff @Yespolkadotkitty @heythere-mel @justanotherblonde23 @artsymaddie @anet @aellynera @lucifer- @houseofthirst @phoenixhalliwell @chicken-ona-stick @agirllovespancakes @ghostwiththemostbitch @the-purity-pen @paintballkid711 @wasicskogirl @fantasticcopeaglepasta @sarahjkl82-blog @boxdyeblonde @rosiefridayrogersunday @yeah-seems-legit @mimimi-stuff @ladyblogger-margie @memyselfandellasworld @peterhollandkait @itspdameronthings @emmy626 @luv-nd-serenity @randomness501 @littlebopper96 @alexmarie29 @hell-is-my-second-home666 @thisshipwillsail316 @madslorian @no-droids-on-sunday @glixxr @sfr99 @pedro-pastel @we-can-be-himbos @sleep-tight1 @sarhabee @its--fandom--darling @im-an-adult-ish @princess76179 @demoncrypt1066 @the-dendrophile-bookworm @Amneris21 @deliciouslydisturbed365 @princessxkenobi @Kirstg42 @ew-erin @maievdenoir @withakindheartx

@gunslinger2000 @omlwhatamidoinghere @linkpk88 @tlcwrites @lv7867 @mudhorn-djarin19 @mssbridgerton @elisabethbathgate @pascal-rascal424 @midnightzonzz @massivetfsimp @mandorush @marvelousmermaid

@daffodin @xjustmenobodyelse @blufanfictionthings @nicotinebirds @dreamer-101 @queenbbarnes @rayslittlekitten

#Benny Miller x F! Reader #Benny Miller #Triple Frontier #Autumn Writes #garrett hedlund #Request #clearing out the ask box

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chubbybuckydumpling · 3 years

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A Valentine's Miracle

@endlessbucky you got a gift! I hope you like this and you’re left satisfied <3 This is my entry for the @marvelxreaderfanfictionfest Bucky Barnes Valentine Exchange! My prompt was: Best friends to lovers, Bucky and reader being cute and in love. This was my first secret santa experience and it was really fun! Thank you for having me :)

words: 2.8k

pairing: Bucky Barnes x female Reader

warnings: swearing, fluff, kissing, making out, a little embarrassment, modern AU, canon divergent, implied smut, friends to lovers, clichée

My Masterlist

You were viciously knocking on the sturdy wooden door of Bucky’s apartment, a bottle of red children’s sparkling wine in your unoccupied hand. Your coat is heavy on your shoulders, but the harsh cold and cutting wind forced you to put on the extra warm clothes. On your way here it even began to snow, some flakes still clinging to your hair. Your fingers feel numb and you mentally scold yourself for not wearing gloves.

Suddenly the door swings open and a grinning Bucky beams at you, “Finally you’re here doll. I thought I’d be starved by the time you’d arrive” Rolling your eyes, you step into the flat, “Stop being so dramatic, it’s two in the afternoon and I know for a fact you ate a burrito for lunch”. The man clutches his chest in mock pain and groans, “You wound me, Y/n”, he whimpers, the smirk never leaving his lips. “Wait, how did you know I had a burrito?” You throw him a playful glare, “You posted it on Snapchat”.

Bucky’s eyes widen in panic and he pulls his phone out of his pocket to check his Snapchat for any unwanted posts. “No, I didn’t”, he finally states and averts his gaze back to you so he can show you how unamused he is. A giggle slips past your lips as you carefully remove your jacket, “Oopsies, it must be the fact that you have been having burritos on Valentine’s Day for as long as I can remember. Weird how things sometimes slip your mind”.

Reluctantly, Bucky holds out his hand for you to place your coat into. The gentle warmth of his apartment envelopes you and makes you sigh in content. “Did you light a fire?”, you ask your best friend while you take off your shoes. “Oven’s lit, just for you, you chilblain”, his deep voice rumbles and calms you even further. “Ha, ha, you’re so funny James”

Upon hearing his real name, the man scrunches up his face in distaste, “Ew, you sound like my mother”. You chuckle and finally wrestle yourself free from your footwear, falling into Bucky’s big arms. His familiar scent fills your nose, the undertones of cedar wood and butterscotch making you grin. “I missed you doll”, he mumbles into your head. “It’s been 3 days”, you grunt as you nuzzle yourself further into his warmth. “I missed you too”, you admit after a moment

He slowly pulls out of the embrace and smiles at you. Suddenly you remember the bottle in your hand and gasp excitedly, “Look what I found!”, you yell and hold up the bottle. A huge smile forms on Bucky’s face and he takes the Robby Bubble out of your hand. He stares at it and chuckles, “I can’t believe they still make this: Where did you even find this treasure?”. “Some small shop near the old bakery. It was pure coincidence, but once I saw it, I couldn't’ not buy it”

The man looks at the bottle in astonishment, “I haven’t had this since we were, what? 14?” Giddily, you shuffle forwards and push down his arm until he looks at you, “Are you going to pour us some or are you going to make me stand here all day?” Something seems to snap inside him and he nods, “Yes, please come in. Take a seat”

Carelessly, you throw yourself on Bucky’s grey couch and cuddle up into one of his fluffy blankets. The fireplace is cackling as the flames lick the air greedily. The man comes back quickly, two champagne flutes in his hands. Gently, he places one into your palm as the sweet smell fills you with nostalgia. You nod at your childhood best friend before you both take a sip of the drink. “It tastes…”, you start carefully, “horrible”, Bucky finishes.

His eyes twinkle with an emotion you can’t pinpoint, but it’s gone soon enough as the two of you break into loud laughter. He throws his head back in joy, the dark soft hair framing his face beautifully. The air is stuck in your throat as your eyes linger on him, lips forming into a fond smile. Bucky’s voice has always been able to make you smile and your cheeks heat up.

Soon the man calms down and grins at you. His eyes bore into yours intently as he slowly raises his glass again. In a heartbeat, he gulps down the entire red liquid and lets out a loud sigh once he is done. “You’re so dramatic”, you roll your eyes, but a warm feeling spreads through your chest at his antics. Bucky smirks playfully, “You love me”. He’s not wrong about that.

“So”, he begins, “I’ve got nachos, gummy worms and chocolate”. “No popcorn?”, you ask, giving him puppy eyes. “How could I ever forget the popcorn? You hurt me doll. Why don’t you put on a movie and I bring out the snacks?” You nod at him, “Romance or horror?”, you yell at his retreating figure. “Whatever you want, doll. I’m fine with either!”

When Bucky returns with a huge tray of snacks the opening of Tarzan is playing on the huge TV on his wall. “Tarzan? Really?”, he hears himself say as he carefully places the tray on the couch table and sits down next to you. “Only a couple more months until you’ve got the look down, Buck”, you point at his hair, grin and cuddle up to him. His big arm stretches over your shoulders and you lean into his side, warmth immediately seeping into you as your stomach vibrates with butterflies.

You never meant to fall in love with your best friend, really. But then it just kind of happened. One day you looked at him, his arms suddenly bigger, his figure towering over you, the deep voice rattling your body and you were a goner. All the girls were salivating over him and you were no exception, but with all the people he was dating you doubted you had any chances. So you did what you knew best, being James Buchanan Barnes’s best friend.

You smiled with him, played with him, went out with him and studied with him. You were a different person when you were around him, more careful and joyous, happy and lighthearted. He just made you forget about all your troubles and fears with just a smile or a wink.

And while you pretend you don’t enjoy them, you love your annual Valentine’s Day celebrations. Since you can remember, you and Bucky spent the day together eating all kinds of shit and drinking the overly sweet children’s sparkling wine. Nothing in the world would ever make you miss out on one, but a sparkle of hope inside you was hoping that one day the two of you would spend the day as a couple.

The end credits begin to roll two bowls of popcorn, a bag of gummy worms, too many crisps and a lot of nchos and tears later (which Bucky would of course deny, he doesn’t cry over kids’ movies) and you wipe the wetness from your cheeks. During the movie the man has tucked you tight against his side, so close that you’re almost sitting on his lap and let his fingers comb through your hair, gently scratching your scalp. If you were a cat you’d be purring by now.

Reluctantly, Bucky stretches his arms, causing you to immediately miss the warmth he provided. “Can’t believe you ate so much crap, doll! Aren’t they feeding you enough over there in Manhattan?” You roll your eyes, “You ate just as much of this as I did, James. And just because you’re salty that I have a cooler place than you doesn’t mean you can disrespect me like that”

“Oh, it doesn’t?” he asks in mock wonder. You narrow your eyes and before you can think twice you jump out of your position and tackle Bucky to the couch, fingers running over his sides and tummy, tickling beautiful laughs out of his mouth. “Stop, please!”, he gasps out between desperate attempts to stop his giggles. “Apologise!”, you demand. “Never!”

All of a sudden he flips you over, his hands holding onto your wrists. A high pitched screech leaves your mouth and you immediately begin to squirm under him, desperate to escape from any potential tickles. Of course you couldn’t win against his massive strength, but once his fingers skim over your sides and helpless laughs fall out of your mouths you find a new wave of deterination flooding over you. Quickly, you wrap your legs around Bucky’s waist and somehow manage to make him lose his balance, so his heavy body fall onto your chest.

A puff of air leaves your lungs and you look up, ready to make a stupid remark, when you see how close he is to your face, lips just mere inches away. Blood rushes to your cheeks, heating them up, and you can feel your heart pounding quickly. Bucky’s blue eyes bore into your, his mouth opening slightly. “Bucky?”, you whisper, eyes trailing to his lips.

Suddenly his cheeks turn a dark shade of red and he pushes himself up, “Uhm, I think I need to use the toilet”, he explains, not looking into your eyes. “Yeah, makes sense. I’ll be waiting here”, you answer, the tension thickening the air. The sound of his retreating steps makes you relax and you finally sit up.

“Shit”, you whisper to yourself, hands balling up into fists, “Way to go, Y/n”. The fire is warming up the room, flames licking at the air, but a shiver runs down your spine, a cold sensation gripping onto you. Time seems to slow down, seconds turning into minutes, but when Bucky returns, it’s still too early.

“So, doll, do you want to seize the last bits of daylight?”, he asks, his voice completely calm. If he’s pretending, so are you. “Yeah, totally. You might have to unfreeze me when we get back here though. Walking here once already turned me into an icicle”, you chide in, a smile on your lips which you figure Bucky must know is fake. If he does, he isn’t showing it.

“I’ll warm you up, I promise. Do you want one of my sweaters?”, he asks, a grin decorating his lips. A hopeful shimmer flimmers in your eyes, “Please?”

Soon you find yourself bundled up in one of Bucky’s gigantic sweaters, your coat and a snapback (“Relly, Buck? This won’t protect me from the cold at all!”, but the puppy look in his eyes made you agree) and he looks just as ridiculous, but you can’t find it in you to care.

Outside, the sky relentlessly releases snowflakes, the paths already covered in thick layers of white. The cold air makes your breath visible and the sound of the snow crunching under your feet makes a genuine grin appear. The two of you walk along the streets in close proximity, quietly listening to the sounds of the occasional car that passes by or the pigeons that search for leftover crumbs.

Once the nearby park is in sight, Bucky has an idea. “Last one at the entrance is a slowpoke”, he yells and starts running. “Not fair!”, you shout, taking chase. Carefully you jump over big lumps of snow, but there’s no chance that you’ll catch up in time. The man already stands at the entrance when you arrive, a proud smirk on his face, “Took you long enough, doll. I was beginning to freeze to the ground”. You huff out a breath, but still manage to roll your eyes.

“Hardy, har, Bucky. You’re so funny, how will I ever survive this humiliation?”, dramatically you walk past your friend and follow the line of the trees. The view is very pretty, especially when everything is coated in white, a sense of innocence in this harsh world. “Wait, doll”, he yells after you and comes barreling towards your figure. You turn around just in time to see his panicked face, arms paddling through the air helplessly as his body crashes into yours.

A scream leaves your mouth and you manage to desperately clutch onto Bucky’s jacket before you hit the ground, the air leaving your lungs. Luckily the snow feathers your fall and only a slight pain spreads through your back, but the weight of Bucky’s torso presses your shoulders into the ground. So you find yourself underneath your best friend, again, panting heavily.

“I’m sorry, doll, let me-”, he begins, but when his eyes find yours he stops, breath hitching. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, a mesmerizing sight to watch. Out of the corner of his eye you can see more snowflakes coming down, making the whole scene seem like a winter wonderland. “Bucky?”, you question him, your voice unrecognizably soft, as his face comes closer to yours.

“If you don’t want this to happen, doll, then stop me, but shit, it’d be a lie if I said I didn’t want to do this for years”, he whispers back, his tone matching yours. One of your hands reaches out to cup his cheek, a cold thumb stroking over his defined cheekbone. The butterflies in your tummy are going crazy, but you find yourself feeling calm. This is your Bucky, you’ve known him for years, this will be fine. Everything is fine with Bucky. Always.

You can feel his breath fan over your lips and you whimper, “Bucky, please”. His head moves closer and then, finally, his lips meet yours. They are slightly chapped from the cold, but still warm and tender. It’s perfect. Your hand runs behind his head and you play with the frizzy hair at his neck, pulling him further into you.

When he pulls away his cheeks are red, both from the cold and the blood that rushes into his cheeks steadily. You open your eyes and then you see his face, beautifully coloured and sculpted and tears shoot into your eyes. “Hey, doll, what’s wrong? “, he sounds concerned. “It’s just”, you sigh, “I wanted this for a really, really long time. These are happy tears”. A relieved sparkle flits over his eyes, “So you wouldn’t mind if I..?”, he raises an eyebrow and quickly presses his lips to yours again.

“No, love, not at all”, you grin, “But I wouldn’t mind getting out of the snow”. His blue eyes widen, almost comically, and you can’t stop the fit of giggles. Quickly he jumps up and holds out his big, strong hand for you to take. The muscles in his arm tense as he pulls you up and right into his chest. You wrap your arms around his neck and grin, his hands finding your waist.

You bite onto your lower lip, smirking at his groan, “I swear doll, you’ll kill me one day. Especially when you wear my clothes”. “What, you like?”,you retort, a teasing tone coating your voice. A growls ripples through his chest, “So fucking much” and before you know he pushes his lips onto yours again and his hands tighten around your body, pulling you this much closer.

This time he is greedier, more forward, his mouth pushes harder against yours, almost hungrily. His eagerness makes a fluttery feeling awaken in your tummy, a dull want and you push yourself closer to him, your own lips copying his need. Slowly his tongue drags over your swollen mouth, asking for entrance which you grant him. Bucky pulls you impossibly close as if he wants every part of your body to touch his.

He explores you, intertwining his tongue with yours, letting them dance together to steps only th two of you know. He tastes like candy, but not quite, something that is very distinctively Bucky. It’s perfect. A moan escapes your mouth and you close your arms around him tighter, greedily consuming more of him. His scent fills your nose, evoking a warm feeling in your chest. The knot in your tummy grows stronger with need.

He seems to notice your distress and his hands wander down to your behind, grabbing onto the plump cheeks and pushing you onto the growing bulge in his trousers. A moan leaves his lips as you whimper, needy and filled with lust. Bucky pulls away from the kiss, heavily panting, and rests his forehead against yours. He’s even more beautiful up close. “Shit, doll”, he whispers. His lips are red and slightly swollen. He looks delicious.

Suddenly a shiver runs down your spine and you realise that you’re still standing in the snow. “Bucky”, you whimper, “I’m cold. Can we go home?” He seems to snap out of his trance, eyes flicking to the side. “Yeah, the sun is getting low. We should…”, he helplessly points in the direction you came from. You nod, a smirk playing over your lips, “You know, you did promise to warm me up”

Safe to say he kept his promise.

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snothing · 3 years

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Request: Drabble in which Jake looks through some old stuff and finds a rather odd yet captivating item: a red tunic with a green scaly leotard, a black-yellow on its right side, a black domino mask, green gloves and finally green pixie boots. he decides to try the suit on

I want to apologize for how long this took! I’ve been so busy with school, and I made this way longer and convoluted than necessary. It’s definitely not a drabble anymore, and I added a lot of sibling banter, lol, I can’t resist. This was so much fun to make, I had so many ideas. Thank you so much for being patient, and I hope you enjoy!

I decided to deviate from my universe, while keeping some old things. Mar’i and Jake are still twins, and Mar’i can turn invisible.

"Go away, Jaki! This is my hiding spot!" Mar'i whispered-hissed at her brother. She glared at him through a jungle of coats and umbrellas in the armoire, her mouth in a tight frown.

"Oh, come on, Mar'i!" Jake cried. With a flair for the dramatic, he threw his hands up in the air. Of course, his annoying sister would take his favorite, top-secret hiding spot!

"Shhh!" she snapped, finger to her lips. Pink eyes flashed brightly at him. "Would you be quiet? Do you want Dad to find us?"

He pursed his lips and looked down the hall. Pretty soon, his dad would be done counting and be searching for them. Still, a great wrong had been committed in the eyes of Jake. "You took my hiding spot! Get out!" he seethed, just a decibel lower.

"Nuh-uh, it's not your hiding spot!" Mar'i shot back. "You don't own it!"

Jake smirked cockily and pointed a finger past her. "Uh, yeah, Mar'i, I do."

A deep, unamused frown settled on Mar'i's face as she noticed— in bright cerulean blue crayon— the word "Jake" hastily scribbled on the panel. "That means nothing! You don't own everything you put your name on."

He silently raged. "How am I not surprised a heathen like you-"

"-Heathen?! I watched you squirt an entire can of Easy Cheese in your mouth!"

"That was a long time ago. I’m a different man now."

"It was last week!"

"As I said, a long time ago," he retorted drolly. "Anyway, as I was saying— only heathens don't respect the sacred rules of hide-and-seek!"

"You're so ridiculous," she sighed, exhausted. "You act like I broke the law."

"Well, you might as well have. I'm hurt, Mar'i, really I am. I never thought you'd betray me like this. My own flesh and blood— my wombmate--"

"Ew, don't call me that!"

He clasped his hands together. "I think the only way to solve this and mend our broken relationship is for you to leave and find a new hiding spot."

Mar'i stared blankly at him. Jake was her favorite person in the entire universe, but there were times where she wanted to slap him. "I'm not leaving, Jaki."

"By the love of X'hal, you can turn invisible!" he argued.

"So? Dad's using heat-sensing goggles this time."

"Mar'i!"

"Hey, babe," their father's voice filtered in from downstairs. They stilled, eyes wide and locked on each other.

"Hello, my love. Are you looking for something?" they heard their mother ask him.

"Oh you know, just for two half-human, half-alien eight-year-olds? Have you seen them? They're like yay-high, black hair with orange skin? Got glowing green eyes?"

"Oh," Kory chuckled. "I think I know the two. Say, are they dangerous?"

"Very. The little rascals will eat all your cereal and blame it on an innocent larva."

"My, they sound like quite the dastardly duo," she mused. "I believe I saw them go upstairs. Please, proceed with caution."

Dick let out a laugh. "Don't worry, babe. I think I'm well-equipped to handle them; Batman raised me after all."

Mar'i snapped back her attention to Jake, panicked. "Go away, Jaki!" she nearly growled.

"But-" he tried to argue, but her hand shot out and closed the armoire door, effectively ending their discussion.

Frantic, Jake looked around for a new hiding spot. Under his bed? No, there was a monster. Behind the house plants? Nope, too obvious. In the air vent? Nah, he'd get stuck again. Finally, his eyes found the inconspicuous attic door.

He was like 90% sure it was haunted. Uncle Jay showed him and Mar'i a horror movie once, and he learned that attics were prime real estate for ghosts and couldn't be trusted.

But...

It would probably be a great hiding spot. His dad wouldn't expect it.

The creaking of the stairs interrupted his thoughts and effectively ended his inner turmoil. He dashed to the attic door and braved the darkroom.

"Oh wow," he said, looking around. The room was cramped, littered with boxes and other knickknacks. Moonlight filtered in through the port window. "Okay, ghosts, listen. I don't mean to trespass or anything. I just need a place to hide from my dad, alright? So no possessing me, okay? I'll only be here for a couple of minutes."

Slowly, he made his way through the clutter, hoping to find a nice nook to squeeze in. A thick layer of dust coated everything in the room, and it was not long before he started hacking. It was then that his left foot hit a meddlesome snag in the carpet, causing him to plummet down on a pile of boxes.

He let out a rather undignified squeak when his knee slammed into the ground. A flurry of Tamaranean curse words left his mouth; thank heavens, his mom was not around to hear him. "Stupid ghosts!" Jake spat. The crash was loud. His dad knew where he was now. "And stupid Mar'i for making me hide in this stupid, haunted attic!"

He went to glare at the confounding boxes, but he halted when he saw something interesting. His ire vanished, his head cocked slightly. He pulled himself up from the ground and went to analyze the contents of the fallen box closer, his hand alit with a low-energy starbolt.

Inside the unsuspecting box was a brightly colored uniform. Jake's eyes widened the size of saucers. Could this be? There was no way. But sure enough, he found the iconic scaly leotard and black domino mask. Yep, this was his father's old Robin uniform.

He stared at the red tunic with the utmost reverence; his thumb traced the R. Jake was so absorbed in the costume he failed to notice his sister hovering over him.

"Whatcha got there, Jaki?" she asked curiously, face inches from his.

He let out a squeal and jumped several feet in the air. He snarled, eyes ablaze in a blue fury. "Mar'i! Don't do that!"

She snickered, an eyebrow raised. "It's not my fault you're not observant."

"I was in stealth mode," he said defensively. He crossed his arms. "What are you doing here? Shouldn't you be hiding in my hiding spot?"

She shrugged. "Dad found me pretty quick, so I decided to come to bother you."

Jake was surprised. "Wait, do you mean he didn't hear me fall?"

"Nah, I told him you were being a cheater and hiding outside. Thankfully, you decided to be a klutz after he left," she informed him. She frowned when she noticed the betrayed look on his face. "What? I thought you'd be happy I saved you!"

"I think it's funny you pick and choose when to be a loyal sister."

She smiled. "Gotta keep you on your toes, Jaki. Now, what's that?"

Jake followed her pointed look at the costume. He showed her excitedly. "I think it's Dad's old Robin costume!"

Green eyes rounded. "What? No way!"

"Yes, way!" he dazzled. "Look at the insignia!"

"Whoa," she breathed. She fingered the black-yellow cape gingerly. Her head snapped up. "Come on, put it on!"

"W-what?" He gave her a bemused look.

"I know you want to," she said wryly. She held up the tunic and pushed it towards her brother. "I bet you'd look just like dad."

"Yeah, but..." he trailed off. Honestly, he did not need much convincing. Jake had seen pictures of his dad in his early crimefighting days, but a thought stopped him. "I don't know, Mar'i..."

"Why not?"

"Well, Damian's Robin."

"And?"

"And I don't want to-- I don't know. I guess I don't want to send the wrong message," Jake answered. He sighed somberly. "Besides, it's not like I could ever be Robin anyway. I'm weird."

"What the heck?" Mar'i spluttered. "You think you can't be Robin because you have powers?"

"Robins don't have powers, Mar'i," he said, dejected. "They don't fly or shoot starbolts."

She snorted. She scooted closer to her twin, looking at him intently. "And? Anyone with a brave heart can be Robin, and as I can see, you have one."

"But-"

"No buts, Jaki," she cut him off. Mar'i was not going to allow her brother to put himself down. "I like you just the way you are. I think shooting starbolts and flying is super neat!"

"You're biased," he chuckled. Mar'i's words instantly made him feel better, though.

Her mouth blossomed into a silly grin. "Well, yeah, duh. I know if I'm awesome, you have to be. Now, put it on!"

"Okay, but turn around. I need privacy!"

"Yay!" she piped before spinning around. Her arms and legs tingled with excitement.

"Okay, I think I'm ready now," he told her, a bit apprehensive.

Mar'i whipped around, nearly knocking Jake down in the process. She almost burst out in awe when she saw him there, proudly donning their father's uniform. "Wow, Jaki! It looks so good on you!"

He flushed. His eyes, now concealed by a domino mask, peeked down at his body. It had been a bit awkward in some places; Jake did not care for his legs being so exposed, but otherwise, it fit like a glove. "Really?" he asked, swooshing his cape back and forth.

Her head bobbed up and down. "You look just like Dad when he was young!"

"What do you mean by that, Mar'i? I'm still young!"

Jake and Mar'i were startled by the voice. They spun around in the direction of the attic door and spotted their dad: the first-ever Boy Wonder and best pancake-maker-this-side-of-the-galaxy-- Dick Grayson.

"Dad!" the siblings exclaimed in perfect unison.

Dick chuckled. "And what are you two glowsticks doing in the attic? I thought we were playing hide and-"

He stopped mid-sentence when he noticed Jake. His eyes widened as they absorbed, his mouth agape.

Jake panicked, and shame surged through him. "I'm sorry, Dad!" he said hastily. "I-I was just hiding upstairs a-and I fell a-and I found your old costume!"

"Jake-"

"A-and I knew I shouldn't have, b-but Mar'i said I should-"

Jake paused when he felt his father's hand on his shoulders. He looked up and met his father's loving gaze. "Jake, calm down," Dick comforted. "It's okay."

Jake swallowed. "You're not mad?"

"No, of course not, son," he responded, genuine.

"Doesn't he look cool, Dad?" Mar'i piped up, a goofy grin on her face.

Dick smiled tenderly and moved his hand to caress Jake's face. He could not have predicted what seeing his son wear his old Robin uniform would do to him. His heart soared with love and pride.

"Yes, Mar'i, he looks pretty cool," he agreed.

Jake beamed and matched his sister's goofy grin. He thought his dad would be mad at him, but thankfully, he was the furthest from mad.

"But don't think this means you can go out crimefighting," Dick added quickly.

"Aww, Dad!" Jake whined.

Dick wagged his finger at him. "Don't 'aww, Dad' me! You may have the look, but you're not old enough."

Jake pouted. "I'm not a baby anymore, Dad!"

"Aww, but you're still my baby.” He gave Jake a quick kiss to the temple. “Now, come on, you two. Mom made dinner, and I can’t wait to see the look on her face when she sees you."

"Did she burn the food again?" Mar'i grimaced. She loved her mother dearly, but she was not the most adept in the kitchen.

"Yeah, I don't know if I can eat burnt lasagna again, Dad."

"Now, now, glowsticks. Mom spent all day working on this meal!" Dick assured them. He escorted them out of the attic. "It's a dish from Tamaran. I'm sure it'll be wonderful."

Mar'i whispered to her brother, "I like when Mom cooks. We always get McDonald's afterward."

"Or food poisoning."

#dick grayson #DickKory #mar’i grayson #fanfic #drabble #Headcanon #Teen Titans #starfire #koriand'r #fanfiction #jake grayson #jake and mar'i are twins

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shuadotcom · 3 years

Text

Crystal Snow | JJK

❅ Summary: When you join Jungkook and the rest of the guys for some fun in the snow, he can’t help but feel jealous. ❅ Pairing: Jungkook x Female!Reader ❅ Genre: Fluff, slice of life, idolverse ❅ Rating: G ❅ Warnings: None! ❅ Word Count: 1.6k ❅ A/N: So this is an old drabble I re-wrote and was going to finish in time for holiday bingo, but that didn’t happen oops. I figured I’d finally finish it in honor of the snow in Korea this week!

Snow is everywhere, covering buildings and bus stops and cars. It blankets the streets of Seoul so heavily that everything around the city is silent. There’s barely anyone out and about with the snow so heavy and the sun setting, which makes it the perfect time for BTS to be out in public.

The seven over-excitable men hurry to the park nearest to their dorm, plastic sleds in tow.

"Took you guys long enough! Do you know how long I’ve been waiting here?!" You whine. You’re bundled up in a white coat with a matching scarf coiled around your neck. A bright blue beanie sits on your head with flecks of snow still sitting unmelted on the fabric. The seven men all break into identical grins as they wave at you.

Jungkook sprints ahead of the group, wrapping his arms around your waist and lifting you into a hug. A few giggles slip out when your feet leave the ground as you cling to his neck.

"Koo put me down! I’m too heavy!" Jungkook obliges, but not before stealing a kiss from your lips.

“No way. You’re perfect.” He murmurs and nuzzles your cold noses together.

"Ew, you guys are gross," Seokjin complains, nudging Jungkook out of the way to get a hug of his own. "You act like we all don't know she's your girlfriend, Jungkookie. No one's going to steal her from you."

"Yeah, and besides, it won't be stealing if she comes to me willingly," Jimin smirks at you and sends you a wink before pulling you in for a hug. You laugh and roll your eyes at him, while Jungkook stares daggers at the back of his hyung’s head.

Yoongi comes up next to him and nudges him in the side. "He's kidding, Jungkook. None of us are going to take Y/n from you, okay?" Jungkook puffs out his cheeks and nods at the older man. Of course, he knows that. That doesn’t mean he likes when they joke around like that with you.

"Okay, before Jungkook kills us all and buries our bodies in the snow, what say we go sledding first?" Hoseok speaks up, noticing the youngest’s grip on your coat sleeve. "The last one to the tree over there has to sled with Namjoon!" With a yell of 'hey!' from the leader in question, everyone takes off towards the biggest tree in the middle of the park.

It's not that Namjoon is bad at sledding per se. He just isn’t good at steering. Seokjin had been his willing partner the year prior, and both men ended up stuck in a snowbank when Seokjin told Namjoon to go left, and he had gone right.

The eight of you all but collide with one another to get to the tree, and in the end, Jungkook trips over his own two feet and is the last to make it.

"Oops, sorry, Jungkookie! It looks like you get to ride with Namjoon." Taehyung shrugs and sends Jungkook a smile that says he most certainly is not sorry for his loss.

The next few minutes are spent with the rest of the group dividing into pairs as Yoongi hands out everyone’s sled. Jungkook walks next to Namjoon as you all trek up the highest hill in the park. It’s a few feet up, which allows enough speed to make turns while racing down it instead of just being a straight, boring drop.

Upon reaching the top, everyone gathers with their partner and gets themselves ready. Jungkook scans the group and finds you being helped onto the sled by Seokjin, who you’d be riding with. He pouts as he watches him adjust your scarf, feeling jealousy fill him. The more he thinks about it, the more he thinks it isn’t fair that he’s unable to sled with his own girlfriend.

"Jungkook, did you hear me?!" He jolts when he hears the booming voice next to him. He turns and is met with Namjoon's intense stare.

"What?"

"I said, do you want to steer the back or the front?"

"Front," he answers immediately, recalling that last year's incident was caused by Namjoon operating the front end of the sled.

"Ready?!" Jimin calls out once everyone is seated. "One...two...three, go!" As soon as the word leaves his mouth, he and Taehyung take off first down the hill in their sled. There are a few shouts from the other two pairs as one by one, they both follow behind the duo currently in the lead. Jungkook watches as you and Seokjin zip away, and he feels a jab through his layers of clothes.

“Let’s go, Jungkook!”

Oh yeah. He’s supposed to be racing too.

He helps Namjoon push their sled forward, the frigid air starting to whip in his face as they move. He momentarily forgets why he had been sulking as he leans left and right to control the piece of plastic under him.

He and Namjoon started last, but they pass Yoongi and Hoseok in the blink of an eye. Jungkook quickly catches sight of your familiar blue beanie and sees you and Seokjin only a couple of inches in front of him. His eyes are locked on you as you tilt forward to increase the speed of your sled, and Jungkook does the same, determined to catch up.

If he had been paying attention, he probably would've heard Namjoon calling his name. He also would've seen the snowbank in front of them before they ended up smacking into it face first.

Jungkook could vaguely hear the laughter of his friends around him as he lies there, letting the snow soak into his clothes and hair. It isn’t until he feels a pair of hands tugging on the back of his coat that he attempts to move. The first thing he’s met with is his favorite pair of eyes staring at him with worry.

"Jungkook, are you okay?" Your mouth is turned downward in a frown as you look him over to make sure he isn’t injured.

"I'm fine." You help him to his feet and begin brushing off the snow from his shoulders and hair, mumbling about how he needs to be more careful and pay better attention. He barely listens to you, though, as he’s more interested in how unbearably cute you look when you fret over him.

"Well, it looks like you're the new sledding jinx," Hoseok says, approaching the two of you. He leans over and punches Jungkook in the arm, the younger frowning in response.

"Yeah, and Jimin and Taehyung are the self-proclaimed 'sledding kings.’" Yoongi rolls his eyes.

"Which means they're never going to shut up about it." Seokjin jerks his head in the direction of the two in question, who are packing mounds of snow together in the distance. "Hey, what the hell are you two doing over there?!"

Jimin scoffs and turns to look over his shoulder. "I will insist you all address me as 'Your Majesty' from now on. Tae and I are no longer peasants like the rest of you." He brushes his gloved hands together to rid them of excess snow before he turns and sits on his snow throne. Taehyung copies his actions, and they both look at the rest of the group.

"Now," Taehyung starts, "Since we are the sledding kings, we have a few requests. Our first is that Jin hyung prepares us a dinner of our choice when we go home later." He waves his hand in the older man’s direction, who, in turn, begins yelling about not being their personal chef.

"Secondly,” Jimin begins, talking over a still complaining Seokjin. “We cannot rule over the frozen kingdom on our own. We need a queen to rule with us." He jumps up and quickly grabs your hand.

"I don't think so!" Jungkook yanks your other hand and tugs you back towards him, making you fall into his arms with Jimin nearly tripping in response.

The two men have a momentary stare down before Jimin relents and releases you. "Fine. " He recovers swiftly, immediately launching into something about appointing Hoseok as a court jester.

Jungkook turns and beelines for the park exit, tugging you behind him before you can hear anymore.

"Jungkook, where are we going?"

"Back to the dorm. I'm cold and hungry, and there's snow in my pants." You let out a laugh and hold on tighter to Jungkook's hand.

"Whatever you wanna do is fine with me as long as I get to spend time with you."

Jungkook stops abruptly, making you run into the back of him.

"Jungkook, wha-" He turns and grabs your face in his hands, pulling you into a kiss. Even though it’s cold outside and both of your cheeks are freezing, the two of you feel nothing but warmth running through you as your lips move against one another. The kiss is lazy and sweet, and Jungkook would stay here like this all night if a sudden gust of icy wind hadn't chosen this moment to hit him right in the face. You shiver in his arms, and he pulls away to tighten your coat around your body and lay his arm over your shoulders.

"Come on. The quicker we get home, the quicker we can get warm." You nod and rest your head against him as you walk. You had both been excited to go out with the guys and play in the first snow of the year, but the idea of just the two of you curling up in bed under a blanket with hot chocolate sounds even better.

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spooderboyandtincan · 3 years

Text

Happy Halloween!

A/N: Here are the actual episodes of Buzzfeed Unsolved mentioned in this fic! The Terrifying Axeman of New Orleans and The Horrors of Pennhurst Asylum. As a warning, both of these videos describe both very grisly and gory things, so please watch them with caution!

(Also, the author in no way claims to own or use these videos for commercial property. Just wanted to include them!)

~~~~~

Peter was having a great day, even when an apple tried to give him a concussion.

Normally, he would have caught the traitorous fruit, but there were several families around who might have noticed his outstanding reflexes, so with some split second thinking he let the apple bounce off his head.

“Ow!” Peter massaged the top of his head. Tony and May turned to him, both slightly concerned. “I think this tree is trying to kill me.”

“Oh, spare us!” Tony said to the tree, reaching out to ruffle Peter’s curls. “Not my darling son! Take me instead!”

Peter rolled his eyes at the dorky genius, actually finding himself feeling a little bad for the poor apple tree. “Don’t worry,” he muttered, patting the rough bark. “It wasn’t your fault.”

There was something very adorable about watching Peter trying to comfort a tree, both Tony and May observed. Their kid’s heart was so pure and kind it was blinding.

Peter snatched an apple off a low-hanging branch and, before Tony or May could stop him, bit into it. “Wow,” he mumbled through a mouthful of fruit, “this’s really good! Can we pick some?”

“That’s what we’re here for!” May sang. “Did you check for worms before you bit into that, Petey?”

“Worms?!”

Tony shook his head in fond exasperation. Peter spat his mouthful of apple on the ground in disgust, chucking the half eaten red orb to the side. “Ew ew ew ew ew!”

“Buddy, I’m pretty sure there weren’t worms in there,” Tony suggested.

Peter shrugged. “But are you sure? Now we have to pick more apples just in case they’re all wormy.” He stuck out his tongue in a mature display of unhappiness.

“Thought you liked picking apples,” he questioned, suddenly worried that Peter had only been pretending to enjoy himself.

“No, no I do! It’s really fun! But now I can’t eat any,” he pouted. “I’m so huuuungry.”

He frowned in concern. “Why don’t we get some food and come back, kiddo? We can grab an extra coat from the car while we do.”

“Mr. Stark, I’m already wearing, like three of yours,” Peter laughed. He gestured to the layers of puffy jackets he was bundled up in, along with his favorite Spider-Man hat and thin black gloves.

“Actually, I think you need a scarf,” Tony observed. “We can’t have any spider-baby popsicles on our hands, now can we?”

Peter rolled his eyes. Tony began fussing over him like a mother hen, wrapping his own scarf around his neck and zipping up his third coat. He took the boy’s small hands in his and winced, rubbing them to bring some warmth.

“You’re gonna lose fingers if we don’t get you some better gloves, bud.”

“I’m fiiiine.”

Peter heaved the bag of crisp, red apples into his arms with ease. Tony and May grabbed their own separate ones and heaved them over their shoulders with a lot less ease. They headed toward the muddy dirt road, lugging their apples and stopping for a moment to admire some chickens.

“Ooooh!” Peter exclaimed suddenly, spotting a glimpse of orange behind the tall pine trees. “Mr. Stark, May! There’re pumpkins!” He jogged off.

“Don’t you wanna get food before this, Pete?” Tony called, following the boy.

“I’ll eat the pumpkins!”

“Look out for worms!” May teased. Tony found himself thinking of the classic nursery rhyme, Peter Peter Pumpkin Eater.

May found the perfect pumpkin almost at once. It was on the opposite side of the small field under a beautiful towering oak tree with red and golden leaves still on its branches. The pumpkin was a beautiful shade of dark orange and wonderfully round. She held it against the chest like it was a baby.

Tony didn’t have any particular pumpkin in mind that he wanted so he decided to let Peter choose for him.

“Are you sure? I don’t wanna get the wrong one,” Peter worried.

“It won’t be the wrong one, kiddo,” Tony promised.

“Get that lumpy one, it looks like his head!” May advised from across the pumpkin patch. Peter sniggered.

“I’m offended. My head is perfectly oval-shaped,” Tony objected.

“Smooth as a shark,” Peter muttered to himself, completely missing the perplexed look from his father-figure.

He picked up the lumpy pumpkin and then began to scavenge for a second one, humming. “This is Halloween, this is Halloween, pumpkins scream in the dead of night… ooh.” Peter knelt down and began to inspect this potential nominee.

It was huge. Wide and tall with a round face and a flat back. The stem was long and twisting. The color was beautiful.

It. Was. Perfect.

“I found it!” he yelled. May and Tony turned to long at him and Peter displayed his pumpkin proudly.

“Congrats,” said May, her grin wide. Tony applauded.

“Can we get it?”

“Of course, Roo.” He smiled, kneeling down to take the lumpy pumpkin while Peter stood up with his own. “Do you wanna get another?”

“Are you sure? I mean, I kinda do…”

“Yes, Petey, I’m sure.” Tony bent to press a quick kiss to his forehead. “Actually, I’d be delighted if you got another one. Really.” He loved seeing Peter so happy over a simple fruit. (Vegetable? Gourd?) Tony would gladly buy thousands of pumpkins if Peter could always be this happy.

Soon Peter had selected two more pumpkins, a wide, squat one, and round, light orange one. They made their way back to the parking lot and the barn, where lots of fresh produce stands were set up.

There was a beautiful, towering willow tree that Peter admired, watching its long limbs sway in the wind peacefully. He breathed in deeply, inhaling the scent of rain and hay and something just distinctly fall. He trotted back to where his family stood in a line to buy their pumpkins and leaned into Tony, letting him wrap strong arms around him and hug him close.

They bought their pumpkins and sat down at a picnic bench under the willow tree and basked in the sunlight. Tony left to the car and came back with a picnic basket akin to the ones in cartoons.

Peter’s eyes lit up when he noticed the mac and cheese in a plastic container and immediately he dug in. After inhaling his pasta, he dug through the basket. His eyes sparkled like stars.

“Rhodey made us brownies!” Colonel Rhodes’s brownies were the best. They were gooey and somehow always warm, with extra chocolate-chips and an oreo in the middle. Rhodey had drowned them in jack-o’-lantern shaped sprinkles. He had even included a bottle of whipped cream, though most of it had probably been used on the current brownie Peter had just bit into.

“Oh, yummy,” May said, helping herself to a large one. Tony took his own and sprayed almost as much whipped cream on it as Peter had.

Before he took a bite, he laughed. “Pete, how did you get whipped-cream on your forehead?” He balled up his sleeve and wiped it off. Peter squirmed away.

He played a quick rhythm on his pumpkin before glancing toward the various stands by the barn. “We should get apple cider,” he said, having a sudden realization. “I guess they probably wouldn’t go very good with brownies but maybe with pumpkin pie or something…?”

“Good idea, bud. How about some candy apples while we’re at it?”

“Yesss.”

Peter was bouncing in his seat while he waited for May and Tony to finish their sandwiches. He helped himself to a few more delicious brownies, trying to savor every bite. (And failing because they were so good.”

When they finished their food, they took a quick moment to put their pumpkins in the trunk of the car, then Peter led the way to the barn. At the back of the big room there was a large assortment of fresh produce, which May made a beeline to. On the right wall were four tall refrigerators, chock full of apple cider.

“Why are they in milk cartons?” Peter wondered, opening the door and pulling the juice out. “Here!”

“Just one? You need to hydrate, young man,” he teased, pulling out three more jugs.

“I won’t just drink apple cider, Mr. Stark.”

“Actually, I think your blood is gonna be 75% apples, kiddo.”

“Carrots or asparagus, Pete?” May called.

“Carrots?”

“Good choice, honey.”

Tony noticed wonderfully red candy apples displayed on one of those cupcake stands he always saw at fancy parties. He pointed them out to Peter, who grinned and asked if they could have some.

“That’s what we're here for, Petey-Pie.”

The young man at the stand wrapped the tree apples individually with cellophane and placed them in a bag.

“That’s smart,” Peter said as they joined May at the checkout line. “Apples probably wouldn’t taste good with a paper bag.”

The cashier recognized Tony when they bought their food. Her hand flew to her open mouth and she shook her head in amazement. “You’re… you’re….”

He offered a smile. Peter inched behind him and grabbed his hand. Tony squeezed his hand comfortingly and moved in front of him so no one could see his face.

The cashier began to check out their items robotically, staring at Tony for an uncomfortably long time before she blinked and asked, “Do you want a bag, sir?”

Once they stuffed the groceries into the trunk of Tony’s car, Peter admired the farm one last time. The big willow tree swayed gracefully in the brisk wind as if it were saying farewell.

Peter crawled into the back seat and slammed the door, curling up and shivering. Tony glanced in the back mirror and quickly moved to turn up the heat.

He rested his chin on the edge of the window. The position was far from comfortable but at least he could watch the trees fly past as they drove.

“You okay back there, Petey?” Tony asked, sounding concerned.

“‘M good. Just thinking,” he mumbled. It was hard to talk with his jaw pressed against a hard surface.

“You sure, bud?” Tony still sounded worried. Peter sighed.

“Stop worrying,” he groaned. “I’m fine.”

“Okay, Petey, I trust you.” If he hadn’t been driving the car he would have held up his hands in mock surrender. “But you know that you can come to me for anything, right? Even if it’s just a stubbed toe, okay?”

“I know, Mr. Stark, really.”

A snore filled the car, and they both laughed when they looked to May and realized she was already asleep.

“So kiddie, whatcha thinkin’ about?” he asked.

“How I’m gonna carve my pumpkin!”

~~~~~

Peter dramatically threw the three pumpkins he was carrying down onto the kitchen island, pretending to wipe sweat off his forehead. He snickered when May rolled her eyes.

Peter took off his layers of coats and threw them on the couch, hanging his scarf up and then ripping off his hat. His hair frizzed everywhere and Tony laughed, his eyes soft and adoring. He flattened it down with his hand and pulled Peter into a crushing hug, bending to kiss his still slightly puffy curls.

They sat down at the kitchen island and chose their respective pumpkins. Peter looked around. “Where’re the knives?” he asked.

“Oh, I know.” May stood up and rummaged through the upper cabinets, bringing out an orange carton. “Here!”

Tony watched nervously as Peter grabbed a carving knife from the box and stabbed the top of his pumpkin without any regard for his personal safety.

“Careful, bubba,” he warned. He was about to take the knife from Peter’s small hands and bend it into pieces for being so dangerous and trying to hurt his kid. “No lost limbs today, okay?”

Peter laughed and continued to cut the top of his pumpkin. He yanked the stem out and sliced off the stringy guts. He took an orange plastic scooper and started scraping the seeds and guts out of the inside. Tony took his own pumpkin and did the same, keeping a watchful eye on his reckless kid all the same.

“What are you carving Pete?” May asked.

“Secret,” Peter grinned, turning the pumpkin so they couldn’t see it. “You can see later!”

“Well, fine. What about you, Tony?”

Tony hadn’t given much thought about it yet. He wasn’t sure, but he thought he had an idea that might work. “Secret,” he said.

May sighed in amused exasperation. “Suit yourself, lumpy. I’m going with the classic.” She took a purple sharpie and started drawing.

“Why aren’t there Halloween Carols?” Peter wondered aloud. “I don’t know like, any spooky songs and it’s sad.”

“There’s that one, um…” Tony trailed off. He did know the actual name of the song, but the look on Peter’s face would be priceless. “Spooky Scary Pumpkins? Ghosts? Is that it?”

Peter slowly raised his head, his eyes wide. “What?”

“You know, that one you’re always singing,” May said, joining in. “‘Spooky scary pumpkins’ sounds right.”

Peter groaned and buried his head in his arms. “No. This isn't happeniiiiiing.”

“I believe the correct title is ‘Spooky Scary Skeletons, Boss,” said FRIDAY’s disembodied voice.

“Thank you!” Peter threw up his hands in relief. “Spooky scary pumpkins. Ugh. Thanks for the nightmares.”

Tony ruffled his hair. “FRI, play it for us uncultured zombies, will ya?”

The first few notes of the song played and Peter started headbanging exaggeratedly, doing a dance in his seat. “Such a bop,” he said to himself, then went back to carving his pumpkin.

A bop? Tony decided not to ask. He sketched out his idea on the pumpkin with a light pencil and rummaged through their carving tools.

“Mr. Stark, you didn’t get the guts out!” Peter protested.

“Don’t worry, bud, you’ll see. Trust me.”

Tony finally found what he was looking for. “A-ha!”

“Is that..?” Peter leaned over. “Is that a dremel drill? Isn’t that for like, trimming dog nails?”

“One of its many uses!” Tony switched it on. “Carving time.”

“Ooh. That’s cool, I wanna try!”

He handed the drill over to him. Peter turned his pumpkin around to the back and started carving. “Oh, so it only gets like the fleshy parts! The flesh? So then it kinda glows through.”

“That’s right,” he said. “It looks pretty cool when you put a candle in it.” Tony took the drill and got back to work. Their song was still playing in the background, and at some parts Peter would do a dance and sing along.

After about fifteen minutes of ridiculous chatter and multiple songs played, May jumped up. “Finished!”

“Already?!” Peter exclaimed. “Lemme see!”

“Just a sec.” May ran off and grabbed a candle from one of the drawers in the living room, then hurried back. She put it in the pumpkin and lit it carefully. “Ta-da!”

“Oooh!”

May had carved a traditional pumpkin with a big, spiky jaw, a triangle nose, and big triangle eyes. She had taken seeds and put them in the corners of the eyes to act as pupils.

“Oh, he’s cross eyed!” Peter laughed. “That’s really cool.”

Tony grinned. “Clever. I like it.”

“Thanks, Tony. I think I’ll borrow that drill from you when you’re done. I want to make a flower on the back.”

“Sure.” Tony continued working on theinrticate design, squinting and trying to make it as precise as possible. He caught Peter trying to sneak a peak and shooed him off cheerfully.

When Tony looked up to check on Peter, he nearly cooed. His kid had the most adorable look of concentration on his face. His tongue poked out between his lips and his brow was furrowed. Peter worked carefully, selecting the tools he knew would work best and using them delicately.

When Peter looked up again, the sky was considerably darker. He looked at the clock. “How is it already five?!” No way had he been working for one and a half hours straight.

Tony blinked and snapped out of his stupor. “Huh. Time flies, I guess. I’m about done, how about you, kiddo?”

“Almost… I kinda messed up a few details but I think it looks okay!” He scraped the pumpkin more and looked up. “There! Where are the candles?”

“Here you go.” May smiled and handed him a red candle that smelled like cinnamon. He took the lighter and dipped his hand in the pumpkin while Tony watched anxiously.

“Don’t burn yourself, baby.” He bit his lip in worry. “Be careful.”

“I am!”

May dimmed the lights and pulled the curtains shut. The candle glowed brightly in the dark room and Peter turned the pumpkin to face them.

May gasped. “Oh. Oh my goodness! Peter, that’s gorgeous!”

The boy blushed in the candlelight. “Thanks.” He looked to Tony, who had been strangely silent this whole time.

“Mr. Stark?”

“Petey….” Tony felt his arc reactor and in his mind, compared it to Peter’s intricate, detailed carving that he had spent so much time on. “Petey… you made my reactor?”

“Uh-huh! I kinda messed up some parts, but I think it looks pretty good. What do you think?”

“I… I… oh my god, baby, I love it. I love it so much.” He pulled his kid into a hug, squeezing him tight. Tony kissed his head and blinked away the tears in his eyes. Peter, surprised at first, hugged him back. “Thank you, Petey.”

“No problem,” he said, voice muffled in Tony’s sweatshirt. “Does it look good?”

“It looks beautiful, baby.”

“I had no idea you could make something like this,” May murmured, tracing the arc reactor with her fingers. “Wow, honey. This is spectacular!”

“Thanks.” Peter’s face heated from the praise and he pushed his head further into Tony’s chest. “What did you make?”

“I was wondering when you’d ask.” Reluctantly, he let go of Peter (but not without another forehead kiss) and grabbed the lighter, He lit the candle, turned it around, and-

It was Peter’s turn to gasp. “Is that me?!” He admired the glowing spider emblem with wide eyes. It matched the one on his suit exactly. “Oh my god!”

Tony beamed. “Do you see the resemblance?”

“I’m pretty sure you just stole my suit and like, made it into a pumpkin. It’s so cool! I love it, thank you!”

“It was my pleasure,” he said graciously, giving a little bow. “Where do you think we should put them?”

“Um, I dunno. Where’s a good spot?”

Tony looked around. Eventually they decided to put them on the mantle above the fireplace. Peter worried they might rot, but the man assured him they wouldn’t and turned off the fireplace just to ease his kid’s fear.

Peter took a look at the room. A few days ago he and Tony had draped bright orange and purple lights around the room and Peter had added some webs that would definitely leave stains. There was a black spiderweb table runner on the coffee table, and in the kitchen there stood a plastic cauldron filled with dry ice. Ghosts made of tissue and paper mache balls hung from strings by the fireplace and above the couch and tv. Peter took a black and orange oreo from a pumpkin shaped plate cheerfully.

“When’s dinner?” he asked, realizing how hungry he was getting.

“Are you hungry, bud? We can order a pizza, how does that sound?” Tony replied, smoothing down his curls and then ruffling them so they puffed back up again.

“Great!” Peter patted his curls back down and flopped on the couch, taking out his phone.

Only fifteen minutes later the pizza arrived. Peter jumped up happily and opened the box.

“It’s pumpkin shaped!” he exclaimed. “That’s so cool!” The pepperoni slices had been arranged in jack o’ lantern face and Peter laughed. He took four big slices for himself and sat down at the table while May joined him. Tony poured three glasses of apple cider and gave the biggest one to his kid, then sat down next to him.

Peter wolfed down his pizza in the blink of an eye and downed the cider just as quickly. May and Tony started on their second slices while he started on his fifth.

He was about to ask May if she knew that some spiders had blue blood when her phone rang. She smiled apologetically at them and stood up to take the call.

“Sandra? Oh, hi.” She wandered into the living room. “Uh-huh? Oh, that’s too bad, I’m so sorry.” A pause. “I could. Yeah, no problem. It’s okay. I hope everyone feels better.” May put her phone down.

“I’m sorry, guys. I have to fill in for a friend for a few hours.” She sighed. “Her twins are sick and she really needs this. I have to go but I’ll be back soon, okay?” May grabbed her coat and gloves. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.”

“It’s okay, Aunt May,” Peter said, offering a smile. “What time will you be back?”

“Around two.” She titled his head back to kiss his forehead. “Get some sleep, both of you. No scary movies. Larb you!” She headed toward the elevator.

“Larb you too!” he called back as the doors closed behind her. Peter sighed.

The room was oddly silent without May’s laughter, but soon Peter started chatting and laughing and they relaxed into their normal banter.

When they finished their pumpkin pizza, they sat down on the couch. Peter snuggled into Tony’s side and yawned, grabbing his Starkpad. He scrolled to a video and poked Tony’s shoulder.

“What’s this, kiddo?” he asked, wrapping an arm around Peter’s shoulders and pulling him closer.

“Buzzfeed Unsolved,” he mumbled. “That’s Ryan and that’s Shane.”

“Huh. That’s cool. They solve mysteries?”

“Sometimes. They don’t really solve them, I mean, it’s called Buzzfeed Unsolved, but they do talk about suspects or theories or whatever. Sometimes they do supernatural ones and they’re really funny. And spooky,” Peter rambled. Tony chuckled and turned his attention to the video.

The Haunted Halls of Waverly Hills, read the title. As the creepy introduction played, Tony frowned. The two men he assumed were Ryan and Shane were walking around a long, spooky hallway with cameras that made everything look like it was tinged green.

“You sure this isn’t too scary, Pete?” he asked, not wanting his kid to have nightmares.

“It’s not,” Peter grumbled. “I’m fine. This one is cool!”

“If you’re sure, Roo.” Tony still sounded skeptical. He was prepared to turn off that tablet the second Peter showed any sign of fright, but he never did.

“This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved we explore Waverly Hills Sanatorium as part of our ongoing investigation, ‘are ghosts real?’” said Ryan.

The camera panned to Shane as he shook his head. They went on to explain the history of the sanatorium. Peter giggled at their many jokes, especially when Shane made snarky remarks. Tony deduced that Shane was the sceptic while Ryan strongly believed in paranormal happenings. He was inclined to side with Shane, but Peter looked just as nervous as Ryan was when he walked down an empty hallway all alone.

“Pete, are you sure this isn’t too scary?” he repeated after a particularly gruesome description of the horrors that took place in that old building.

“Yes, Mr. Stark.” Despite his annoyed tone, Peter was smiling.

“Okay, okay.” Tony turned to press a tender kiss to his temple. “I just don’t want you to have nightmares.”

“I won’t. It’s okay.” Peter flopped against him and pressed the next video. “Promise.” He yawned.

The videos, Tony admitted, were pretty cool. He liked how they listed theories and possibilities instead of just leaving the mysteries unended. The two men were funny and entertaining, and he found himself enjoying the videos.

By now they had watched at least nine or ten episodes. It was easy to get lost in all the videos, which were only twenty minutes long each, but when you watched a few more, time had passed faster than you expected. When Tony checked the time he was surprised to find it was already nine-thirty.

“You tired, bubba?” he asked gently as Peter yawned. “You’ve had a pretty big day.”

Peter shrugged. “A little.”

“Do you wanna go to bed now, sweetheart?”

“Sure.” He stretched and yawned again. “Tomorrow’s Halloween, right?”

“That’s right,” he hummed. He helped Peter stand up and they made their way down the hallway. “Good night, baby,” he murmured, pulling him into a hug.

Peter felt a warm kiss pressed to his curls. “G’night.” He hugged Mr. Stark and stumbled into his bedroom, rubbing his eyes.

Tony watched with love shining bright in his eyes. He headed to his own bed and climbed under the covers, curling up and turning on the bedside lamp. He grabbed his glasses and perched them on the edge of his nose, planning to get a little reading done before he went to bed.

He couldn’t help but worry about his kid, who had just binge-watched ten episodes about terrible deaths and tortures. “FRI, tell me if he can’t fall asleep, or if he does and wakes up. Just tell me if he’s scared.”

“Certainly, boss,” the AI said smoothly. Tony nodded and began reading, though he barely took in a word, much more focused on the boy in the room next to him.

~~~~~

Peter thought he had been tired. He had nearly unhinged his jaw from yawning so much. But now, he lay in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling, unable to sleep.

He shifted around, trying to get comfortable. Heavy blankets tangled around his legs as he thrashed. Peter sighed and mashed his pillow over his face.

After what felt like an hour (but in reality was only fifteen minutes) Peter rolled over and sat up, yawning and scratching the back of his neck.

He grabbed his Starkpad and earbuds. Peter only used one, because two was too overwhelming. He went to youtube and clicked on the first unsolved episode he found, just wanting to sleep.

The intro played loudly in his ear and Peter relaxed.

“This week on Buzzfeed Unsolved we’ll cover the Axeman Killer of New Orleans,” said Ryan Bergara. “One of the strangest serial killer cases I’ve ever read.”

“And you’ve read a lot,” Shane replied.

Ryan explained the timeline, which began in 1918 in, of course, New Orleans and ended around eighteen months later. He detailed the mysterious and morbid attempted killings, saying, “In chilling fashion, he only seemed to strike people while they slept in their beds.”

Just to make sure, Peter peeked out the curtain. He shivered and hid further under his blankets. He snickered quietly when Shane made a joke right off the bat.

When the video ended, he turned it off and lay back down. He scrubbed his eyes, feeling refreshed but sleepy at the same time.

Except now, he was having a lot harder of a time falling asleep.

Peter stared at his bedroom door nervously, expecting someone to burst in brandishing an axe.

It never came.

He watched apprehensively, knowing this was stupid, and rolled over so he faced the wall.

Now his back felt even more exposed. Peter shivered and faced the door in a panic, swearing he heard something.

Nothing.

He sighed shakily and curled up under the blankets, his heart racing and his eyes wide. The shadows seemed to dance and his eyes flitted from corner to corner as he expected some creature with razor sharp teeth to come leaping out of them.

A chair, which he had thrown some dirty clothes on the other day, now looked like some skeletal creature with a huge head that could swallow him in one bite.

Peter, in a sudden burst of adrenaline, threw off his covers and sprinted the few feet down the hall to Tony’s room, the door slamming open. Peter leapt onto Tony’s bed, shaking, and wrapped his arms around the man.

Tony went rigid with surprise. “Peter?” He straightened up, squeezing his kid tight protectively and looking murderously around the room for the source of Peter’s fear. “What is it, baby? Are you okay? Are you hurt?”

Peter shook his head and crawled shakily into his lap, pressing his face into his chest. “Petey? What happened?” His voice was soft and gentle but somehow worried and protective at the same time. “Did you have a nightmare?”

Peter sniffed and blinked a few tears out of his eyes. His cheeks heated in embarrassment. He wilted in Tony’s arms both out of shame and overwhelming relief that he was safe now.

“Oh, baby,” he cooed. “You’re okay, I got you, you’re okay. I’m here, shh.” He kissed his delicate brown curls. “I’m here, I’m here.”

Peter sighed in relief and squashed his nose against Tony’s reactor. “‘M sorry,” he mumbled.

“Why are you sorry, bubba? You didn’t do anything wrong, okay?” Tony murmured.

Peter nodded. “I- I just got scared.” His voice cracked and he tried not to cry.

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s okay, you’re okay. I got you. Nothing’s gonna happen to you, ‘kay?” He brushed his fingers through his curls. “Pete?”

A soft snore filled the peaceful quiet of the room. Peter’s breathing was slow and even, his face lax. Tony’s face softened. He carefully maneuvered Peter’s limp body under the war covers and wrapped his arms around him, pressing his nose into his curls. “I won’t ever let anything hurt you, kay?” He sighed in contentment, holding his kid tightly. “I love you so much baby.”

Tony’s eyes fluttered shut. “G’night, sweetheart.”

~~~~~

Taglist: @imissyoutoo @aj-that-person @tonystark-deserves-better @nathaly-ab @skeeter-110 @peter-and-tony-vlogs @teammightypen @joyful-soul-collector @loveliestdisappointment @depuella @scwene-qween @honeythepooh @pixiethefirecat7 @spider-man-lover @jami161 @bringitonvoldie @queen-of-sarcasm-25 @roxy3457 @memilon @iron-loyalty @gralaca @bitchingpretty @pillowspace @thatminecraftgal @clockworkteacup @hatakehikari @wtfischeese @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars @skydiving-without-a-parachute @yansi1923

If you want to be added/removed let me know!

~~~~~

/ST*RKERS DNI/

#FINALLY finished this #Happy Halloween!!!#peter parker #tony stark #may parker #aunt may is the best #pumpkin picking #pumpkin patch #pumpkin carving #tw knives #knives tw #irondad and spiderson #aunt may and tony are best friends #protective tony stark #worried tony stark #scared peter parker #buzzfeed unsolved #halloween tw #st*rkers dni

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thatoneticklewriter · 3 years

Text

Chongyun’s Predicament

(Lee! Chongyun)

“Ugh, I hate these food delivery missions.” Aether pouts at the sticky notes placed on the Adventurer’s guild bulletin board.

“Ew, all of the missions are for food deliveries.” Chongyun makes a face skimming each note one by one.

“You guys are a bunch of babies! I delivered food way under three minutes.” Venti teases his friends grabbing a sticky note.

“Says the one with an anemo element.” Xingqiu rolls his eyes at the other. “All you have to do is glide with the wind.”

“But Aether is an Anemo too.” Chongyun points at the blonde.

“I’m nothing like Venti.” Aether sighs in response.

“Let’s make a deal! We each take a food delivery mission and when we’re done we meet up at Chongyun’s apartment. The last one there gets punishment tickles.” Venti holds up a hand and everyone raises an eyebrow wondering if they heard him right.

“What does this even prove?” Chongyun questions the other crossing his arms against his chest.

“That I’m better than all of you losers! See ya later!” Venti launches himself up in the air with the wind leaving the others astonished, the harsh air blowing their hair in their faces.

“We better get going!” Aether follows after the bi color haired boy and Xingqiu nods his head in agreement.

Chongyun lets out a sigh having no other choice but to tag along.

Ten minutes later Xingqiu reaches Chongyun’s apartment finding Aether and Venti inside on the couch.

“Just in time!” Venti raises his hands in the air.

“Where’s Chongyun?” Xingqiu’s scans his amber eyes around the living room.

“He’s not here.” Aether elicits a chuckle. Poor boy.

“Xiao lets us in. He said not to bother him, as always.” Venti says before getting up to raid the blue haired boy’s pantry.

“Don’t steal all of their food.” Aether makes a face judging the multiple bags of snacks Venti had laid out in the kitchen.

“They’ll appreciate that I’m cleaning out their pantry.” Venti giggles before opening a bag of chips.

“I don’t think that’s what they mean.” Aether says before stealing a handful of chips.

The door slams revealing the panting blunette.

“Looks like we got a loser!” Venti claps his hands as if he were proud of Chongyun.

“Let’s not do this.” Chongyun says to the bi color haired boy who jogs into his personal space. With his congenital positivity, there wasn’t much things he could do. He didn’t want the risk of immersing his body in such heat being surrounded by all of his friends. It’s gotten to the point where he could only cuddle his boyfriend Xiao for a limited amount of time before he grew too warm.

“You’ll be fine. Tickling won’t make you hot, if that’s what you’re thinking.” Venti shrugs him off.

“I just don’t want anything to happen.” Chongyun says throwing off his jacket.

“Oooo! That sounds like a fun experiment if tickling can affect your congenital positivity.” Venti expresses with excitement jumping up and down. “Plus you’re in a safe place, if things were to go wrong.”

“And you lost the deal.” Xingqiu adds earning a frown from Chongyun.

“Maybe we should do this another night.” The blunette shifts to the other side of the room though his friends continued to creep towards him.

“The loser has to accept the punishment.” Aether refuses his suggestion taking off his gloves.

“Charge!” Venti shouts as the three of them pounce on Chongyun at once as if he were a piece of meat.

The boys collapse onto the couch and Aether grabs Chongyun by his arms holding him back.

“Let me go.” The blunette states in a firm tone trying to escape Aether’s grasp. He would shout but there’s a slight chance it’ll get him fired up and waking Xiao from slumber.

“Oh we will, once we’re done with you.” Venti teases the other trailing his finger down his chest.

“I’ve endured for this kind of thing so you’re wasting your time.” The blunette couldn’t help but lie hoping it’ll change Xingqiu’s and Venti’s minds.

“Let’s prove that.” The bi color haired boy doesn’t back down rolling up Chongyun’s shirt.

Aether playfully scratches at the other’s armpits hoping to earn a reaction though it backfires when all he hears is silence.

“You’re not laughing.” The blonde frowns speeding up on his scratches failing to tickle the stoic blunette.

“What about here?” Xingqiu grabs Chongyun’s leg setting it on his lap poking in between his toes.

“Heh, a little.” The blunette gasps holding back a smile.

“You just hold him, Aether. We’ll do all the tickling.” Venti orders to the blonde before clawing at Chongyun’s bare tummy.

Another gasp escapes the blunette’s lips however he still remains pretty calm focusing on his breathing.

“You can’t hold it in for long, we will break you one way or another.” A smirk falls into Xingqiu’s face knowing that they’re getting close. He continues to trail his fingers along the arch of Chongyun’s foot and the blunette jerks from his touch, his knee jamming Venti on the back.

“Okay, just for that I’m not going easy on you anymore.” The bi color haired boy pulls up his sleeves ready to torture his best friend.

“I didn’t mean to hit you intentionally!” Chongyun unexpectedly raises his voice as if he knew where Venti was going to target him next.

The bi color haired boy squeezes his sides and Chongyun lets out a high pitch squeal arching his back.

Aether tightens his grip on the blunette’s wrists who begins to struggle and writhe as Venti assaults his exposed sides.

“Ahahahaahahaha!” The blunette couldn’t hold in his emotions inside any longer bursting into fits of laughter. “Get off! Ah!”

“Oh no, we’re just getting started now that we cracked you.” Venti chuckles at the flustered exorcist before him.

The fingers roaming all across his abdomen and feet had the blunette overwhelmed not knowing which tickled the worst. He couldn’t retaliate with Aether holding his arms, Venti on top of him, and Xingqiu sitting on his legs. Though that changes when Xingqiu realizes the blunette’s feet weren’t as sensitive as his abdomen.

He gives up sitting beside Venti lending him a hand on his other side.

“Hahahaaha, please!” Chongyun cries out flinching at Xingqiu’s cold fingers against his bare skin.

“Please what? Please keep going? Alright!” Venti jokes around rearranging Chongyun’s words.

“Eeeek! I didn’t say that!” The giggling blunette squeals as Venti kneads at the sides of his tummy.

“Don’t be shy, we know you like this.” Aether joins in with the teasing watching the bi color haired boy plant his face in Chongyun’s tummy blowing a raspberry.

The blunette squeals and shrieks from the ticklish sensation, his struggles growing more vigorous startling Aether. Damn, he was burning up.

“Hahaahahha! No! Don’t!” Chongyun throws his head back in laughter feeling Xingqiu wiggle a finger in his navel.

Venti sneaks his fingers up Chongyun’s shirt playfully scribbling at his upper ribs and the blunette had no choice but to nip at Aether’s hands gripping his wrists.

“Ow! I can’t believe you just bit me!” The blonde shrieks releasing Chongyun.

The laughing blunette crawls away from the couch however both Xingqiu and Venti dive on top of the other rolling onto the floor.

“Guys, I think he’s had enough.” Aether says feeling guilty for the blunette who wasn’t gaining any mercy. Plus the fact his cheeks were coated with a bright red hue and tears forming the corner of his eyes.

Xingqiu and Venti give Chongyun a break though the boy couldn’t seem to stop laughing.

“Chong, we’re not touching you anymore. Stop laughing.” Xingqiu raises an eyebrow at his friend.

“Heheheehehehe!” The blunette continues to giggle holding his abdomen curling into a ball.

“Are you crying!?!” Venti widens his eyes at the tears steaming down Chongyun’s cheeks.

“Hahahaahah! I’m so happy! I can’t stop! Ha!” He babbles with laughter, drool dripping from the corner of his mouth.

“Can you stand?” Aether pulls Chongyun up to his feet and the blunette abruptly gets up on the coffee table.

“Careful. What’re you doing now?” Xingqiu holds onto Chongyun’s leg as he tries to balance his weight.

“Hahahahaaha! I wanna dance!” The blunette shouts moving his body side to side, hands in the air.

“You guys created a monster.” Aether gestures to the dancing Chongyun glaring at Xingqiu and Venti.

“I wanna dance too!” Venti jumps up on the coffee table as well, swaying his butt.

The laughter and screaming of the two boys was enough to wake up a moody Xiao with bed hair.

“What is going on?” Xiao grumbles rubbing his eyes with the back of his hand.

“Xingqiu and Venti awakened Chongyun’s congenital positivity and we can’t get him to calm down.” Aether explains to the other’s boyfriend who lets out a yawn.

Only Xiao knew how to handle these moments when Chongyun grew crazy and Unpredictable.

“Hehehehehehe! I missed you!” The blunette hops off of the coffee table wrapping his arms around Xiao’s shoulders.

“I missed you too but it’s late and you should get some sleep.” Xiao removes Chongyun’s arms off of him holding his hands.

“No! My friends are here, I can’t leave them alone.” Chongyun glances at Aether and the others with a sympathetic look on his face.

“They’ll understand.” Xiao assures applying pressure to his outer wrist hoping to soothe his mind.

Shortly, the blunette grows drowsy and Xiao orders Aether to carry them to their bedroom.

“Why is it whenever Chongyun congenital positivity is released, it’s always with you two?” Xiao points a finger at the smirking Venti and Xingqiu.

“Well uh we’re gonna leave.” Xingqiu starts to say heading to the door.

“No, you’re not. You’re going to clean this place up.” The raven demands gesturing to their disheveled living room.

Chongyun needs a better choice in friends. Xiao thought to himself before heading back to bed.

#tickling #fanfic #tickle fic #fluff #platonic #genshin impact #chongyun #Venti Genshin impact #aether genshin impact #xingqiu genshin impact #writing

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captainrexisboo · 4 years

Text

Dumb Luck #3

Note: Heyoooooo two updates in one weekend, whaaaaat? No, actually a fun fact, this was started out as my part 2, but i liked my other idea of building the tension with Sweets seeing Rex with his helmet off for the first time better. There will be a part four, it just wont come as quick! I’m gonna have several more parts to this, I have plans y’all. This chapter has ~slight angst~ if you squint hard enough. Again, I’m open to criticism or Hot Takes TM, I’m still a novice writer! Both my asks and messages are open to everyone! Also... y’all, Jesse is a bro. He’s great.

a link to part two- https://captianrexisboo.tumblr.com/post/623995723815452672/dumb-luck-2

Warnings: suggestive language (the usual)

Tags: @persaloodles @starflyer-104 @imalovernotahater @holamor @000ayfh

“Hey, Sweets-“

“Not now, busy,” she threw over her shoulder, not even bothering to look at who was walking up to her corner of the hangar.

Y/N was greatly enjoying herself as an assistant to the head mechanic aboard the flagship. She quickly learned about not only the venator-class destroyer, but also about gunships, shuttles, frigates, landers, even more about her beloved droids, and her absolute favorite to work on, the starfighters. If she were alone in the hangars, she would walk over to the rows of starfighters and just study them, marvelling at every screw, panel, and wire and how it built something so amazing. And right now, she was actually able to work on one of these beautiful machines, and she’d be damned if she let anyone stop her workflow.

Rex lifted a brow at her mannerisms as he watched her dive elbow deep into a much older fighter model, one that hadn’t ever been repainted and typically was the last to be boarded and flown out by shinies who didn’t know any better. She was squatting low to the ground, a panel gone from the ship while she tinkered with its insides, hair barely secure, strands falling out of the haphazardly tied bun she had kept in place with only a single stylus. He was still conflicted at her presence on the ship. She had proven to be smart, quick witted, and of course was an absolute stunner, but she was also stubborn as hell, distracting, and always there. Always a mere moment away, in the hangar, in the generator room, in the mess, the repair bay, the armory- and he hasn’t known peace since.

Let’s be honest, he hasn’t known peace since he met General Skywalker, but he was able to have an illusion of what it was like whenever he was alone with his thoughts. Now he didn’t even have that, his internal narrative shaping into her curves before too long, even in his solitude. Things were different with her here, they were more on edge, like he was tiptoeing around her in a delicate dance to avoid a situation where either of them could build onto their practically visible tension. Kix had told him, ever the blunt medic, that he could cut their tension straight through the air with a scalpel it was so obvious. But he was a Captain, and had a job to do, so when he heard that she had been seen speeding down the halls to the hangars with her tools despite all the ships passing inspection just a few hours ago, he knew he had to be sure she wasn’t doing anything out of protocol. He had grabbed Jesse before making his way to the hangar, in case a mediator was needed, and was now grinding his teeth at the woman concentrating so intensely she didn’t even care to look who else was in the room. He shared a flat look with Jesse before clearing his throat to make his presence known, “You might want to take a break, Y/N.”

She paused what she was doing, her shoulders tightening. Only Rex ever used her actual name, especially when he was in one of his damn moods. This was weird, though, him seeking her out. Recently it seemed as if he had been avoiding her, or making sure they weren’t alone if they had to be in the same room. Try as she could to get his attention, get him all flustered, he’d always just be slightly out of reach, and she was getting increasingly frustrated. She rolled her eyes, summoning her signature bravado before she smoothly stood up to turn around, jutting a hip out and giving a lazy salute, “Ahoy, Captain.”

Jesse tried to mask his giggles under a cough, watching the two interact was his favorite pastime. Rex took note for later to ask a different intermediary for the next strife, before pointing his head to the ship, “What are you doing to that fighter?”

“Exactly what it looks like,” she smiled brightly, almost prideful, wiping her grease slicked hands on the pant leg of her GAR jumpsuit, “Messing with this lovely hunk of junk.”

“Messing with it?” Rex questioned, barely hiding his glance at the handprint now crudely placed on her thigh.

“Gave myself a project to work on,” she explained sauntering towards the pair of troopers with an arm outstretched to the ship, “Boys, meet my baby.”

“Your baby?” Rex slowly tore his gaze off her to look over the fighter blandly, “What a miracle of science.”

“Is Artoo the dad?” Jesse snickered, before receiving a light smack on the arm from the woman. She still chuckled at the quip, showing good humor to him. Despite being absolutely infuriating, Jesse was quickly becoming a good friend to her, like a brother she never wanted.

“Did you get permission before completely gutting the engine, at least?” Rex asked, looking around at the parts that lay on the floor, surrounding her workspace.

She sighed, “Yes, I did, just a bit ago. Ask Caine, he was the final sign off on it. Went through all the proper channels.”

Rex's jaw twitched, stiffening the hand holding his helmet, “It didn’t come through on my end.”

“Maybe it didn’t need to,” she shot, eyes narrowing as she crossed her arms, “I’m sure there are some things on this ship that don’t require your approval, sir.”

There it is. The way she said that word got him all riled up. It was one little word, one he got called by from every trooper on every hour of every rotation, but it was her honey-coated voice saying it that drove him to his limit. Every time she spoke the word to him it was like a challenge, daring him to expose his desirous aggression toward her, taunting his mask of composure. Every time she spoke, with a demanding storm in her glare and candy pink lips being teasingly assaulted by her own teeth, it stirred a fire in him he didn’t quite know how to quell. It was maddening, and got worse and burned deeper with every encounter. Before he could dig himself deeper into her trap, he simply pulled on his helmet with a slight growl, and turned on his heel to stalk away from the conversation, barely grumbling out a gruff, “I’m going to talk to Caine.”

“What crawled up his ass and died?” Y/N felt herself wilt a bit as she watched him go, taken aback by the retreat, and admittedly a little disappointed. Usually he’d last longer.

Jesse let out a stale bark of laughter, “Same thing that crawled up yours.”

“Jesse,” she warned, cold eyes coming up to focus on him, drawing out his name as she placed her hands on her hips.

“Sweets,” he mimicked her tone and stance, chuckling low, “Why don’t you just go after him? He’s all pent-up and frustrated, I don’t think the troops can take another feral sparring session. Hell, I don’t think I can take it. Think of the poor shinies.”

She shrugged at him, rolling her eyes as her head lolled to the side, “What can I say, I’m a self-destructive mess that likes to delay my own happiness and ultimate satisfaction.”

“Bantha shit,” Jesse rolled his own amber-hazel eyes at her, “I think you're just a brat.”

She laughed lowly, batting her lashes at him, “Same thing, trooper.”

She turned around, intent on continuing her work before she felt a gloved hand wrap itself around her elbow, turning her back to face the ARC, “I’m serious. Why are you dragging this out, adding to the pressure? If you keep this up, one of you will explode before too long, and then- whether it’s a good explosion, or a bad one- there’s gonna be one hell of a mess to clean up in its wake.”

She lifted a brow at his wording, “Was that innuendo literal, or-”

“Ew,” Jesse blanched, letting go of her arm and scrunching his face at the mental image., “That’s my ori’vod!”

Y/N threw her hands up in a mock surrender with a devilish smirk on her lips, “Look, you’re the one who said it.”

“Just answer the question, maker!”

She was silent for a minute, pursing her lips as she gathered her thoughts together. Jesse was staring intently at her, crossing his arms as he waited for her. Her eyes narrowed into thin slits in her focused state, and she exhaled slowly through her mouth, “I...I don’t know if he actually likes me or not. Sure, we banter, and I flirt, but I don’t know if he legitimately thinks of me the same way. I mean, today he just walked away from our conversation, and it made me feel kind of dejected. He seemed...I don’t know. Exasperated. Like he’s tired of me.”

Jesse had never seen her so vulnerable, so small. Sure, she was easily more than a head shorter than them, but her confidence and charisma always made her seem like she was eight feet tall. She twirled a lock of stray hair around her fingers, looking anywhere but Jesse as she continued, “His responses always vary, so I can’t pin down his exact feelings! He can either be cold and dismissive like today, or he can be actively matching my turn of phrase, there's no in between. So I always just...well, I tease him, you’ve seen it. I’m just testing the waters, seeing if he’s interested.”

“Sweets-“ Jesse cut himself off as he let a heavy hand fall onto her lithe shoulder, “Y/N, look at me.”

At the sound of her name, she blinked up at him, biting her lip to keep from pouting. Jesse was about to continue, barely opening his mouth to begin, when there was a greeting from behind them.

“There she is, right where you left her, Captain!”

Rex had come back, face unreadable as he looked between Jesse and Y/N. An older, brown man walked next to him, tall and lean with a salt and pepper fade, his smile as wide as his stride, “Sweets, lass! Making headway on that pile of scrap, huh?”

“Yes sir, Caine,” she greeted, standing upright and saluting him properly before turning offhandedly to Rex and crossing her arms, “Captain.”

Rex felt his jaw twitch at the sudden chill coming off of her, his brow furrowing at the sudden switch in her demeanor. Caine continued waving his arms, animatedly gesturing to the fighter, “This ship will run better than the day it was bought when you’re through with it, I know it. But, our most thorough Captain here has made it known to me that we did skip a step in approving your request.”

She looked Rex up and down, crossed arms tightening over her ribcage, “Oh really? And what step would that be?”

“Admiral Wulff Yularen,” Rex answered, tone even and cool to match her own, “You’re right in that it wouldn’t pass over my desk, however these are still Republic owned ships. He needs to approve...whatever you’re doing before you continue.”

She bit her lip and tightly squeezed her eyes shut, breathing deep through her nose, before responding, “Fine. I’ll clean up my station. Is there a time I can meet with the Admiral to discuss my mistake?”

Rex began to respond, before Jesse stepped in, “I’ll go explain the situation to him. Caine, would you mind tagging along?”

“Let’s stop by my office to get her approval request forms. Anything that makes this take longer, it gets me away from the repair reports,” Caine guffawed as he walked away with Jesse, leaving the Captain and mechanic on their own. He shifted as her burning stare held onto him for an extended moment after the two had left.

“What?” he growled out, growing aggravated at the silent attitude she was giving him.

“You’re a fucking tattle tale,” she spat out before turning on her heel to begin picking up her tools and various discarded parts of the fighter, “Going to my boss because a form didn’t come your way.”

“What are you, a youngling?” he shot back, but striding over to help her out, “I’m doing you a favor! If Admiral Yularen had found out one of his ships had been tampered with, without his permission, he’d blacklist you from the GAR and put you in a ship to drop you on that same dirt ball we found you on.”

Admiral Yularen was much more empathetic than that, and would not go as far as that for a punishment. But she didn’t need to know that right now.

“I’m not tampering with it- don’t touch my tools,” she looked over to see him dropping her wrenches and welders unceremoniously into her box, “I’m not tampering, I’m fixing. I’m a mechanic, it’s what I kriffin do, I’m sure he’d understand.”

He continued to pick up her scattered tools as she turned back to the disorganized pieces of metal with a roll of his eyes, “That may be so, but the GAR has a very strict way of doing things, and unfortunately the line of command doesn’t just stop at Caine for you. In fact-“

“I said don’t touch my tools!”

“Y/N, I’m trying to help you!” he nearly yelled at her, his voice booming in the high ceilings of the hangar, “Anything I’ve done today, is to help you!”

She scoffed, unmoved by his commanding demeanor, “Sure, help me. You didn’t even want me on this ship to begin with!”

“That’s-“

“You still don’t like me, do you? Is that why you don’t respond to my advances?” she was stalking toward him now, her mess and tools pushed to the farthest corner of her mind until they got this discussion over with. He stood his ground as she got closer, standing at his full height but looking her directly in the eyes nonetheless.

“Y/N-“

“I flirt and tease you all damn day and you just ignore me! Or worse, you respond and then leave when you realize you might’ve reacted a little too positively. I’d at least like a solid no from you, make yourself clear, please!”

“Hey!” he laid two strong hands on her shoulders, giving her a slight squeeze, “Shut. Up.”

She glared at him, but complied, pulling her bottom lip in between her teeth as she stood defiantly to him, as tall as she could under his grip. He allowed himself a slow breath, inhale through his nose, hold, exhale through his mouth. He softened his hold, and let his deep honey eyes search her stormy glare, delving into the depths of her soul to make sure she understood, “I think I like you, Y/N. More than I ought to.”

He let that sink in, his cheeks flushing at his own sudden boldness but keeping a lock on her gaze. She raised her brows in surprise, eyes going wide as her agitation subsided, being replaced with something more delicate before sputtering out, “Oh. Okay. Uh, great. So...why aren’t you doing anything about it?”

He let out a dark chuckle, letting his eyelids get heavy, “Always one for tact.”

She shrugged under his grasp, a slight grin gracing her features at his amused expression, “Would you expect anything less?”

He shook his head, letting his lips twitch upwards as his thumbs absentmindedly rubbed circles into her shoulders, before clearing his throat, “If you had let me finish earlier, your chain of command doesn’t stop at Caine. It includes Yularen, Skywalker, and me. If I’m seen to be ‘romantically involved’ with a crewmember, I could be court martialed. And then you’d be-“

“Sent back to that rock you picked me up from,” she finished for him, letting a hand come up to rub gently at his right wrist, before sighing, “Maker, I hate it when you’re right.”

“It’s a miracle you still like me, then,” he let a cheeky smile pull through his face, causing her to let out a soft giggle. Somewhere between their dispute and his confession, his voice had shifted to a low, coarse whisper that made her want to hang onto every word. He let a hand off her shoulder, gripping her chin lightly between his thumb and forefinger, “Do you understand, cyar’ika?”

Her breath was stolen from her as she watched his eyes glance down to her lips, his thumb gently pulling at her skin to have her bottom lip pop out of it’s sharp hold. She shuddered, a pleasant quiver going down her spine as she nodded at him. She fluttered her lashes at him as he chuckled low at her response, “What does that mean?”

“Promise not to get mad?” he smirked at her, as a matching blush sweeping over both their cheeks.

“Rex,” she quirked a brow at him playfully, drawling out his name almost musically. He smiled wide at her, practically spellbound with how his name sounded on her lips.

“It’s Mando’a,” he paused for effect, looking around to make sure no out of place soldiers were looking over before dipping low, his lips brushing the shell of her ear, “for sweetheart.”

She laughed, the sound warm and full, splaying a hand over his armored heart, the plastoid cool underneath her palm, “Fine. But only you are allowed to call me that.”

She pushed him lightly, having him let go of her shoulders. They stood there, smiling at each other, skin burning where the other’s hands had been, gazes soft with mutual ache. Y/N sighed, “So, what does this mean? For us.”

Rex thought for a minute, walking around her to continue where they had left off cleaning. After she had joined him, he hummed in response, “I think it’s a promise.”

“A promise?” she repeated, finishing up putting all the spares and discarded parts in an unlabelled crate next to the fighter. She leaned against the crate, arms crossing as she grinned at him, “What kind of a promise?”

“After the war is done,” Rex explained, tone surprisingly optimistic, “we can travel the galaxy together. No enemies to be on lookout for, not having to worry about getting caught by my nosy men-”

“Does it have to wait till after the war?” she whined, but still watching him as if he were hanging the stars as opposed to just picking up her tool box. He handed her the plasteel case, latching it closed with one deft hand.

“We can discuss that later,” he sent her a sly wink. She rolled her eyes, righting herself off the crate and looking up at him with the familiar teasing glint in her eyes that he’s come to find very charming.

“Just because you’ve finally confessed, don’t think this means I’ll stop toying with you, sir.”

All he could do was let his smile grow, just thinking about all the alluring ways she’ll drive him crazy, “I never wanted you to stop.”

#captain rex #captain rex x reader #captain rex imagine #star wars #star wars the clone wars #clone troopers #ct 7567 #501st #female!reader #mechanic!reader #tcw fic #my writing #part 3 #clone trooper jesse #ct 5597 #we're not smooching yet but we'll get there #slow and steady boys

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calmcilstoybox · 3 years

Text

This is something I’ve been toying with. It’s a henchman’s perspective of what it’s like working for a Dark Lord.

Exception, with a twist, and there’s like Union dues.

“So, why do you want this job?” The red scaled Naga woman sitting on the other side of the desk asked. She had a thick winter coat on, and had her hands in gloves. Despite the fact that there was also a roaring fire in the hearth in the room. She also had black hair –neatly held back out of her face with hair pins- and rather friendly, though tired brown eyes.

“I need work and I heard you were hiring? I’m used to throwing hay bales around so I’d consider myself strong and good at following directions.” Lycothius mumbled half to himself. He never considered himself good at these kinds of things.

“I see, and what of your prior employment? Are there any references I could speak to about your worth ethic?” The naga woman asked resting both her hands on the desk.

“My neighbor Ivagio, I think he’d be a good reference I’ve spent years working with him.” Lycothius replied thinking of the elven farmer. He was the reason Lycothius was even here at the moment.

“What changed? Why are you looking for work with us over him?” The Naga woman asked.

“Well, I didn’t know the hay I gave my livestock was tainted. I ended up losing a couple ewes and my steer. Ivagio took pity on me and promised to give me some lamb ewes out of his flock. But his ewes haven’t delivered yet. So he said I should go apply here to save up enough to buy a new steer.” Lycothius explained before shaking his head.

“Sorry that was a lot at once.” Lycothius mumbled again watching the Naga woman’s expression closely.

“That explains why you’re applying for seasonal work as a henchman. “ The Naga woman said looking over the papers on her desk.

“Well it’s an entry level position. We’re not expecting much.” The Naga woman gracefully opened a drawer and took out a wax stamp. Lycothius watched her melt some wax over a candle on the desk before using the stamp to place a wax seal on his application. Then she slid one sheet of paper back across the desk to him.

“I am now obligated to tell you that seasonal workers only have coverage for injuries and arrests whilst on company property. If you are injured or taken into custody by any overly enthusiastic do-gooders while off company property you are not covered for that. “The Naga woman sounded bored as she spoke like this was a well rehearsed pitch.

“What if I’m off the clock?” Lycothius asked taking the sheet of paper.

“Doesn’t matter as long as you’re on company property at the time of injury or abduction you are covered. If you want additional insurance coverage then you’re required to join the union. You’re eligible for that within thirty days of your first shift. You’ll get your copy of the henchman’s handbook at orientation. Please save all your union related questions for the Union Representative.” The Naga woman’s voice had a dull tone to it as she spoke.

Lycothius took the hint it was time for him to go so he stood up carefully and bowed to her before hurrying out of the room. He read over the paper that he’d been given, but wasn’t sure if he was supposed to keep it or not. So, Lycothius walked back to the front desk and waited in line behind a male harpy with a broken arm in a sling.

There was a grey skinned orc wearing formal clothes behind the desk. His long dark brown hair was slicked back and he had reading glasses sitting on the bridge of his nose. He also had cold piercing blue eyes. One of which was partly brown due to incomplete heterochromia.

“Hello Ruven, how’s the arm? Did you remember to bring me a copy of the bill?” The orc asked the harpy in front. Lycothius had an idea that his name was Maeral.

That is, assuming the name plate at the front of the receptionist desk was correct.

“It’s still broken.” Ruven grumbled and slapped a scroll down on the desk. Maeral took it and opened it up. He pushed the glasses further up his nose and whistled.

“Don’t worry Ruven the Union will cover this for you.” Maeral said leaning back in his chair and putting the scroll in one of the mail boxes behind him. Ruven let out a sigh of relief and started limping away leaving Lycothius as the next person in line.

“H-Hello?” Lycothius said stepping up to the desk.

“Hello! How can I help you?” Maeral asked sitting up straight.

“I’m not sure when Orientation is. I spoke with a Naga lady about working here. She gave me this piece of paper but I don’t know what to do with it.Can you please help me?” Lycothius confessed. He hoped that this orc was as nice as he seemed.

“Naga lady? Oh, you mean Axilya.” Maeral chuckled and held his hand out for the paper. Which Lycothius gladly handed over.

“You’ll have to excuse her, it’s a rough time of year to be cold blooded. Let’s see, your orientation is on Tuesday at nine in the morning. You’ll meet back here in the lobby Mr Jelegywn and then you and the other new recruits will be led to a conference room. Easy as that, be early if you can.” Maeral said sliding the paper into another mailbox.

“Thank you so much.” Lycothius replied smiling softly.

“You’re most welcome Mr. Jelegywn! I’ll see you back here on Tuesday.” Maeral smiled back and Lycothius quickly got out of line so he wasn’t holding up anyone.

He opened the stronghold doors and stepped out into the chilly winter air. Lycothius sighed and closed his eyes for a moment before he started walking in the direction of his village.

#fantasy #fiction #writing #writeblr #new stories

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kawaiikichi · 4 years

Text

Were We? (Saiou Week Day 7)

@saiouweek

Surprise, surprise, I actually managed to write something for Saiou Week! I feel like it could also fall under the prompt “Past Life” for Day 2 but because the past life in this references to them during the killing game and their present life is something completely different, I decided to just post it under free day.

I hope you all like it! :D

Title: Were We?

Prompt: Shuichi’s Birthday or Free Day

Summary: Shuichi has spent over three hundred years as a Grim Reaper, roaming the streets of Tokyo and leading deceased souls to the afterlife. One day, he runs into a purple-haired male whom he has seen in his dreams and it makes him feel emotions he hasn’t felt in god knows how long.

One-Shot Notes: Inspired by the Kdrama Goblin with Shuichi as the Grim Reaper and Kokichi as Sunny; their past life is them in the killing game while their present life is with Shuichi as the grim reaper and Kokichi as a human

Warnings: A sprinkling of angst, NDRV3 spoilers; read at your own risk!

Read on under the cut!

Shuichi walked along the sidewalk, the crisp autumn breeze ruffling his black hair and making his long, black trench coat flutter with each step he took. He stuffed his leather glove-clad hands into his pockets, hoping to warm them as he walked to his destination.

He had no souls to collect and take back to his tea shop until the afternoon, so he decided to take a walk and get himself some coffee before heading to the first accident that was supposed to take place. He also wanted to get away from Rantaro, the immortal goblin that he’s been rooming with as of late. His singing was obnoxious, anyway.

Upon arriving at the coffee shop he frequented, he was met with the warm and comforting smell of baked sweets and freshly brewed coffee. The barista at the counter greeted him, a wide smile on his face. Shuichi greeted him in response as he grabbed for an empty medium-sized cup.

“Americano with no sugar and no cream, correct?” he asked.

“Yeah, that’s correct. You know me well, Naegi-kun.” Shuichi told him.

“Well, you come here so often that I know your order by now!” Makoto slid a small plate with a cream cheese danish on it across the counter. “Here’s your danish as well, Saihara-kun.” he said.

“Thank you.” Shuichi replied.

After paying, he went to sit at the window bar. He nibbled on his danish as he watched passerbys walk the streets. He let his mind wander, and just like it usually did, it went to a male whose face he was unable to see.

Recently, Shuichi has been having dreams involving him. They always took place in what the grim reaper assumed to be a school, but it gave off prison vibes and it rubbed Shuichi the wrong way. But what happened between him and the male in that prison-esque school building could only be summarized as eventful and fun.

The male seemed to be a pain in the ass at times, lying all the time and pulling pranks on other people that were at the school, but the times they spent together were nice. They played games in the dining hall, hid away together in the casino, and read books in the basement library until they fell asleep on each other, blankets wrapped around each other with the male’s head on his shoulder and his head resting against the male’s.

These dreams were filled with happiness and love confessions whispered against each other’s lips as they pressed against each on the couch in the AV room, the film they were watching long forgotten. The Shuichi in those dreams was overjoyed and he looked at the male in his arms with love, which confused the grim reaper when he woke up from that particular dream.

Never in his three hundred years of life had he felt such an emotion so raw and passionate.

Fueled by his curiosity, he looked forward to these dreams. He wondered about how the Shuichi in his dreams interacted with this male he was dating and if these two were able to get out of the school that held them captive and away from the black and white robotic bear that played them like a fiddle in this killing game they were thrown into, living happily ever after.

But what the grim reaper dreamed of last night was anything but nice. In fact, it resembled a nightmare. Everything was smeared in darkness and steeped in the pungent, coppery scent of blood. There was mourning over the execution of a guy named Gonta, whose heart was made of gold and who wouldn’t dare hurt a fly (literally). There was screaming, shouting, tears, and words that pierced through the heart like sharpened blades and spilled blood everywhere without mercy, the dream eventually ending with images of a bloodied hydraulic press.

The way the dream ended last night unsettled Shuichi. Those images were still fresh in his mind as he took a sip from his Americano. Bitterness coated his taste buds, but it wasn’t the pleasant kind that he was accustomed to. Instead, it made his nose crinkle and his body tense from the intensity of it.

He didn’t bother finishing this coffee this time and wolfed down his danish before heading out, hoping that the subtle sweetness would overpower the bitterness that lingered in his mouth.

He eventually found himself strolling along a bridge, which seemed unusually quiet for a Monday morning. Well, save for a nearby jewelry booth that he spotted out of the corner. His eyebrow twitched.

Is that even allowed? he asked himself.

He shook his head, clicking his teeth before sighing.

“Whatever. It doesn’t concern me.” he said.

He started to walk past the booth when the owner of the booth called out to him.

“Hey, Mister Handsome in Black!” a chirpy voice called out.

Shuichi came to a stop, wanting nothing more than to tap on his watch and disappear from her sight.

Can’t anybody let me be in peace today? he wondered to himself.

He shot a glance at the owner, who turned out to be a girl in her twenties with wavy black hair and sparkling amber eyes. Her red lips pulled upward into a smile.

“Are you in need of some new accessories?” she asked.

Shuichi turned his body more, lowering his gaze to the sparkling jewelry and then up to the girl, who continued to beam at him.

“These kinds of accessories aren’t my style.” he told her.

Besides, you can tell at first glance that they’re cheap ripoffs of the real thing, his mind supplied for him.

This only made her giggle.

“Oh, no worries! Then, you could get one for your girlfriend. I’m sure it’ll please her very much.” she said.

“I don’t swing that way.” Shuichi told her.

She blinked her eyes, shooting him a dumbfounded look as he continued.

“I have a preference for guys, so buying something for a so-called girlfriend would be pointless.” he told her.

“I see...well, maybe your boyfriend would like something from here!” she said.

Shuichi got ready to tell her that he didn’t have a boyfriend, but she was already reaching for a purple rope bracelet with a simple puzzle piece charm on it.

“Here, you could buy this. It’s simple, but quite cute.” she told him.

“I’m sorry, but I’m not interested.” he said.

She puffed her cheeks out.

“Come on! It doesn’t even cost that much. I’m sure you could give me a couple yen.” she said, growing more persistent with each word she spoke.

“Really, I’m fine! I don’t want to buy anything—“ he stopped, gold eyes landing on a checkered scarf.

It was just a simple checkered scarf and yet, Shuichi felt a tug in his heart. It was like the scarf was calling his name, begging for him to pick it up and buy it.

His hand started moving on its own before he could stop it. It inches further and further towards the checkered fabric, the tug at his heart growing stronger. His finger brushed along it as another hand appeared in his vision, snatching the scarf up and abruptly snapping him out of whatever trance he had fallen under.

“Oooh, this looks cute! This is totally my style. How much is it?”

Shuichi blinked, looking to his right and locking on a male wispy purple hair that stuck out in all directions. He was shorter than him, making him about five foot one, if he had to guess. The male wore a black and white sawtooth pattern coat with dark denim skinny jeans and black ankle boots.

Almost as if the male knew he was being watched, he turned away from the girl running the booth and locked eyes with Shuichi. The grim reaper felt the wind being knocked out of him the minute it happened. The male’s eyes were a deep shade of purple that sparkled like precious gems in the morning light.

Then, it happened.

Snippets from the dreams he’d been having came slamming into him like a truck, accompanied by a chirpy voice.

“Saihara-chan, let’s play a game!”

“Nishishi! It was just a lie. Or was I lying about that being a lie? The world may never know!”

“I...like you too, Saihara-chan.”

“Ew, I don’t think I can understand why you like black coffee so much.”

“Come oooooooon, Saihara-chan! You promised we’d go swimming!”

“Saihara-chan!”

“Saihara-chan...I’m sorry.”

“...I’ll always love you, Saihara-chan.”

Before Shuichi could process what was happening, a single tear trailed down his cheek. He could only stare at the male with a dumbfounded look on his face.

The male peered at Shuichi curiously, brows furrowed and lips pursed.

“Why are you watching me like that? I saw this first.” he waved the scarf around. “You hear me? I saw it first. First!” he shouted.

However, Shuichi didn’t respond. The male arched a brow as he continued to look Shuichi up and down.

“Wait a minute...are you crying?” he leaned in closer. “Oh shit, you are.” he said.

Minty breath tickled his lips and the minute Shuichi realized how close his face was, he immediately jerked back like he burned himself.

“H-Huh?” he stammered out.

“You were crying just now.” the male pointed out.

“What? I wasn’t—“ Shuichi reached up to touch his cheek and immediately felt the wet tear trail on it.

He dabbed at it in surprise. He couldn’t remember the last time he shed a tear, let alone if he actually did during the amount of time he’s been alive. Just what the heck was going on?

The male continued to eye him.

“Do you want it? The scarf, that is. I wanted to buy it because it looked neat, but if you want it…” he murmured.

“Uh...I…” Shuichi trailed off.

“Hm? Are you speechless? Is it because I’m so drop dead gorgeous that you can’t say anything?” the male teased.

“Wha…?!” Shuichi gawked at him in shock, cheeks flushing red.

“Nishishi! Aw, you’re adorable when you’re flustered! It makes me want to kiss you.” the male said.

The blush on Shuichi’s cheeks deepened, which only made him giggle more.

“But seriously, do you want it? Because if you do, I’m not gonna give it to you for free.” the male held his hand out to him. “Give me your number.” he said.

“My...number?” Shuichi questioned.

“Yeah? I’m going to need to contact you in regards to this scarf, you know.”

“I don’t have one.”

The male blinked twice.

“Wait. You’re telling me you don’t have a phone?” he asked.

“I don’t have one.” Shuichi replied.

“Why not?”

“I don’t need one, that’s why.”

“How could you not need one? We live in the twenty-first century! Of course you need a cell phone!”

“I just don’t see why I need to have one.”

“Because…!” the male heaved a deep sigh. “Okay, I can’t be doing this right now. I guess that means this scarf will be mine.” he said.

He moved to tie the scarf around his neck, but Shuichi spoke, effectively stopping him.

“W-Wait! Set the scarf down. Write your number down and place it there with the scarf. I’ll call you.” he proposed.

“Weeeeeeell…” he proceeded to twirl some hair around his finger. “We should at least exchange names if that’s how you wanna do it.” he said.

“Okay...well, my name’s Saihara. Saihara Shuichi.” Shuichi told him.

“Saihara-chan? I’ll make sure to remember that, then. I’m Ouma. Ouma Kokichi.” Kokichi introduced.

He reached his hand out for Shuichi to shake. The grim reaper could only stare down at the hand quizzically before redirecting his gaze to Kokichi’s. The purple-haired male watched him expectantly, waiting for Shuichi to shake it.

“If you don’t want to shake it, then that’s fine.” Kokichi turned back to the booth owner. “You said it was thirteen hundred yen, right? I’ll take it.” he said.

He began to fish through his pocket, mumbling to himself about where he put his wallet. Shuichi sighed, reaching into his trench coat and pulling out his wallet. Flipping it open, he pulled out a few bills and handed it to the booth owner.

“Here, I’ll pay for it.” he said.

Kokichi gaped at him in surprise.

“Wait! Saihara-chan, I can pay for it—“

“I already gave her the money. Just let it be.”

The purple-haired male pouted as the girl giggled.

“Aw, how sweet! By the way…” she leaned in closer to Shuichi, which startled him a little. “This scarf costs way more than thirteen hundred yen. The cost for it is...quite hefty, if I do say so myself.” she whispered lowly.

“How much does it cost, then?” Shuichi asked.

“Hm...maybe someone’s memories?” she hummed out in response.

Shuichi eyed her warily, but she only smiled at him brightly as she accepted the money from him. He sighed, withdrawing from her as Kokichi spoke.

“Well, since you bought it, I guess I should let you have it for now.” he handed the scarf to Shuichi along with a slip of paper. “And here’s my number.” he said.

Shuichi took the scarf and paper from Kokichi, examining them. As he did, Kokichi continued to eye him. Upon feeling the set of eyes on him, he glanced back at Kokichi.

“Yes?” he said.

“You know...the more I look at you, the more I feel like I’ve seen you before.” Kokichi commented.

Shuichi’s eyes widened in surprise as Kokichi leaned in towards him, purple eyes scanning him.

“I wonder...were we lovers in a past life or something?” he mused aloud.

“Were we...what?” he questioned, wondering if he heard him correctly.

“Lovers. Maybe we were lovers in a past life.”

“Were we?”

Kokichi shrugged.

“The world may never know.” the sound of a phone ringing reached their ears. “Ah, that’s mine. I’m going to need to go now.” Kokichi said.

He pulled away from Shuichi and began to walk past him.

“I’ll be waiting for your call, my beloved Saihara-chan!” he called out over his shoulder.

“My beloved…?!” Shuichi squeaked as he turned, watching Kokichi wave his hand as he headed down the steps and disappeared from his sight.

Shuichi sighed deeply.

“That was...interesting.” he murmured.

He looked down at the scarf, running a thumb along the fabric before focusing on the piece of paper that had Kokichi’s number on it along with his name and a quick doodle of himself. As he continued to stare at the two items, Kokichi’s question rang in his mind.

“I wonder...were we lovers in a past life or something?”

The bits and pieces from his dreams resurfaced as he thought back on them. This time, the mystery male had wispy purple hair, purple eyes, and a mischievous smile. He gripped the scarf tighter.

He couldn’t help but wonder if these dreams he was having were merely dreams or if they were something. Maybe they were pieces of his memory from his past life that he was told that he shouldn’t remember at all costs.

But if it were indeed those memories that stayed buried within him, locked in Pandora’s box...then Kokichi might be onto something.

#saiouweek #danganronpa v3 #saiouma #shuichi saihara #kokichi ouma #day 7 #shuichi’s birthday or free day #free day it is!#had this idea circling about in my head forever so here it is #goblin au anyone???#shuichi is the grim reaper #and kokichi is sunny #reincarnation (somewhat)#tw: ndrv3 spoilers #tw: angst #it’s...actually not that shippy i’m sorry ;^;#kawaiikichi

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imagine-your-party-hosts · 4 years

Text

Lemon Cake

Word Count: 2,385

Pairing: Bloodhound x Fem Reader

Summary: You looked ever the part of a spouse of an Apex Predator and not an Apex Predator. You did not look like you’d ever even entertained the idea of running a mile, let alone running from a blood sport. How in the worlds had you caught Bloodhound’s attention? Bloodhound, “I am the hunter the gods have sent,” looking at you, with your blush and your eyeliner and your acrylic nails, and saying, “That’s the one.”

“Hey, [Name]!”

You rolled your eyes as you picked up your phone, the television screen behind you still rolling a recording of the earlier Apex Champions. You’re smiling still however at Elliot as he stared at you; he’s too close to the phone screen, and you could see right up his bloody nostril.

“Congrats!” you told him, though you snickered all the same. “Now put on my pretty little hunter so I can talk to them instead.”

Elliot’s mouth dropped, while beside him Ajay snatched the phone out of his hands. They’re still standing in the middle of King’s Canyon, the little drone cameras still circling over their heads from the games.

“Hey, we won! You’re gonna make us that cake you promised us then, eh, [Name]?”

You grinned at her on the phone, nodding your head. “Yes! As long as you give Bloth the phone already,” you reminded her, and she rolled her eyes with a guffaw, finally passing the phone to Bloodhound, and as soon as you saw them you shrieked.

“Bloth!” You screamed like you hadn’t seen them in a decade, and, to you, it felt that way. “You looked so cool this game! Not that you don’t look that cool every game!”

You jumped up from the couch, spinning to show them the television on the wall, pointing to the still circulating image of the three Apex Champions. “Look at you! How did it feel having to carry Mirage for yet another game?”

“H-hey!!” Elliot objected from beside Bloodhound; he tried to come back onto screen, though Bloodhound turned away. “You know, I’m the one that called you out of the goodness of my heart!”

“It was hard work, elskan,” Bloodhound responded, talking over Elliot in the background. You were wearing a pastel pink knitted cardigan over a simple black cami, and when you had spun towards the television the cardigan had fallen off your shoulder, and Bloodhound longed to reach out and yank it back up before Elliot or anyone else saw.

You looked ever the part of a spouse of an Apex Predator and not an Apex Predator. You did not look like you’d ever even entertained the idea of running a mile, let alone running from a blood sport.

“I bet it was! I saw you have to get his ass up time and time again.” You two shared a chuckle at Elliot’s expense, who stood behind Bloodhound, dragging a hand down his muddy face.

You also did not look like someone that fit with Bloodhound. You were soft and plump; your hands had no calluses and your nails were done, sharp little points that Bloodhound likened to talons or claws. You had been the makeup artist for the Apex Legends televised interviews - had been, before you’d had to quit when they found out you were dating one of the champions - so how in the worlds had you caught Bloodhound’s attention? Bloodhound, “I am the hunter the gods have sent,” looking at you, with your blush and your eyeliner and your acrylic nails, and saying, “That’s the one.”

Elliot had searched your name one day, leaned back into his chair as you went for one of your brushes, and he gasped overdramatically like you’d stabbed him.

“Is this you?!” Elliot had yelled, and the other legends looked to him to see if you really had stabbed him. Bloodhound hadn’t exactly needed to be here - it wasn’t like they needed their makeup done - though they were still usually here to wait for the legends to get called to the stage.

“God, why’re you searching me on the internet? Doofus,” you avoided Elliot’s question, taking his phone from him and sitting it down on your table. You’d been doing their makeup for months now, and it was hard not to talk to someone who got up close and personal and pointed out your clogged pores.

“[Name] did professional archery!!” Elliot still had continued, looking around to the fellow legends around you two. You had rolled your eyes, pinching Elliot’s nose and turning him away back to you. “Why don’t you try out for the games, [Name]?”

“Ew!” you had yelled out with a laugh, shaking your head wildly. “Like I’d ever do something like that. I used to just do archery for fun, not to use in the games.”

Elliot had reached for his phone, though you swatted his hand away. “You participated in worlds on the planet you were on, that doesn’t seem like for fun, babe!”

Bloodhound’s curiosity had been peaked - you were the last person they’d ever expected to hold a bow in your little unblemished hands, and that’s when they realized that perhaps there were two sides to your coin.

“I’ll come home to you soon, elskan,” Bloodhound’s distorted voice brought you back to them on the other side of the phone. You jumped and swayed on your heels, grinning brightly at them.

“Please! I’ve been waiting at your suite to watch the games. See!” you turned the camera to the big king sized bed, with its fur blankets, unlit candles on the bedside table. “Can we go back to the cabin when all of this is done, Bloth?”

You knew they still had at least two day’s worth of interviews ahead of them, and while the suite Apex provided was large and warm, you missed the cozy cabin in the woods, you missed listening to the rain hit the roof through the treetops.

“Of course,” they assured you, and you grinned as you fell back onto the bed, pulling the furs over your shoulders.

“Shouldn’t you three get going? Don’t you have to get healed and clean up? And by that I mean Elliot, since he’s the most beat up,” you pointed a finger at the screen, and Bloodhound glanced over their shoulder at Elliot. “I’ll watch your guys’ interview and wait for you. I bought a new candle, I can’t wait for you to smell it!”

You were soft, and someone that needed to be protected. Your cheeks were round and red, your eyes bright and twinkling - perhaps a better question would be how Bloodhound had drawn your attention. The first day on your job you’d went to Bloodhound in their chair, smiling brightly at them.

“I’m assuming you don’t need your makeup done,” you had said, and Bloodhound had glanced up to you as you leaned towards them. “I probably shouldn’t tell anyone, but you’re my favorite legend. I’d tell you good luck today, but I doubt you need it, huh?” you had laughed, rocking back on your heels, hands clasped together in front of you. “Or do you guys say break a leg? I told Octane that, but he told me he didn’t have any. That was embarrassing.”

Once Bloodhound knew more about you they had a better understanding why you’d came up to them that day. On the outside, you and Bloodhound were complete opposites - on the inside, Bloodhound doted over you and you were indeed every part their number one fan.

“I can’t wait either, my love,” they responded, and you squealed in delight.

“I love you, Bloth. The champion of the games and my heart!” you howled out, and underneath their mask they grinned at you.

“I love you too,” they responded, and they relished in the way you bundled the furs around you and rolled around in the bed.

Elliot took the phone back and you stuck your tongue out at him, hanging up in his face as a goodbye. You had only spoken with Bloodhound for maybe a total of four minutes, but you were still left breathless and grinning goofily. You two had been together for just over a year, though you were still always giddy and lightheaded when you saw them after a long time away at the games.

Bloodhound was only itching even more to head back to the suite they now knew you were waiting for them at after the brief phone call they’d had with you. They knew you would be readily waiting with your hands in your lap, patiently on the couch watching the after game interviews for any glance of them you could get. They wanted to go back to you, to show you themselves in person, so you didn’t have to flip through Mirage and Lifeline as well for any small crumbs of them.

You indeed sat on the couch, the fur blanket thrown over your legs as you waited patiently for Bloodhound’s time on screen. Time passed well after dark, and when Bloodhound finally came back to their suite the room was dark save for the television still playing and a candle on the coffee table in front of you.

“Elskan, you’re going to burn the place down,” Bloodhound said as they approached you on the couch, and you stirred briefly.

“I hope so. Then we could just stay in the cabin forever,” you murmured to them as they blew out the candle. You reached out, tugging gently at the heavy coat they were still wearing. “That’s the new candle I got. Smell it, Bloth, it’s blueberry pancakes.”

Bloodhound turned back to you, reaching to place their hands to your legs, and you reached out, wrapping your arms tight around their neck. “I will, don’t worry. You know you didn’t have to sit up on the couch for me, beloved, you could have gone to bed.”

“Where is Arthur?” you asked instead, distractedly nuzzling into their neck, your forehead bumping against their headpiece.

“They are here, elskan,” Bloodhound assured you, reaching their gloved hand up to tangle in your hair, and you gave a quiet whine.

“Where? Bloth, can we get you out of this? I want you to kiss me.”

Bloodhound gave a chuckle, slowly tucking their hands under your thighs and lifting you from the couch. You gave a huff against their neck, though aside from that you didn’t even remark, letting them carry you to the bed where in the corner on the bed frame Arthur was perched.

“Kiss me,” you asked again when Bloodhound sat you down on the bed, though you still patiently looked up to him with your hands folded in your lap again. Bloodhound reached up to take their mask off, and as soon as they’d unclasped and pulled it up you were reaching up, placing a hand to their cheek, your thumb rubbing gently across a scar.

“I love you. Please get out of this so we can sleep together,” you whispered to them, and Bloodhound’s lips twitched underneath your thumb as you grazed the cracks in their skin, turning to kiss your palm.

“I love you too. Give me just a moment, okay, elskan?” they asked you quietly, and you smiled up to them, slowly nodding as they turned away to get undressed. You sat at the edge of the bed, swaying hazily and humming to yourself, cooing to Arthur on the bedpost.

Bloodhound came back a moment later after turning the television off, that was still even now on a recap of the earlier match. “Bloth…” you mumbled as they walked towards you, reaching out to take their hand as they neared.

“You look so cute like this, beloved,” Bloodhound told you, and you grinned sleepily up to them. They reached out, pushing the cardigan off your shoulders, folding it to set aside.

“You look so cute like this, too, Bloth,” you hummed out to them. Your voice was heavy with sleep, eyes already closed as they chuckled at you. “Kiss me, already?”

You didn’t even hear them as they returned from putting your cardigan away, though you felt their hands on your cheeks, rough palms but gentle fingers splaying up to your temples. Their thumb ran over the apples of their cheeks, and you kept your eyes closed as they leaned in to kiss you. It was barely there at first, just a gentle feathering, before they pressed further, and you leaned back into the bed from it. Bloodhound was left leaning over you, and you grinned up to them as they just slightly parted from the kiss, your eyes fluttering open.

“It’s been such a long day…” you whispered to them, your breath against their lips. “You’ve worked so hard. Let’s sleep, and tomorrow I’ll make breakfast. Did you know I told Elliot and Ajay I’d make them a cake if you guys won?” you giggled, reaching up your hand to tangle in their long red hair. “I don’t know how to make a cake! Do you, Bloth? I told them I would so they’d work harder for you.”

Bloodhound was smiling down at you as your hand worked through their hair, as you laughed quietly at yourself. “We could just buy one, my love,” they told you, and you squirmed underneath them.

“No way! I’ll at least try, but if I do burn this place down making it you have to promise to cover for me, okay?” you asked them, and their hands went to your hips to settle your wiggling. They squeezed at the warm skin there, and you tittered, trying to writhe again though they held you still.

“I promise,” they told you, and the way you smiled up to them made Bloodhound forget of the games, the interviews, the pictures, and all they could think about was you below them, warm and plush and giggling.

“Thank you! Can we sleep, now?” you asked again, reaching up to pull on the strings of the hoodie Bloodhound was wearing. Bloodhound complied, leaning in to kiss you one more time before they became dead weight on top of you, and you shrieked, laughing as you reached up to squeeze their shoulders. “Bloth!” you giggled out, and you pushed to try to roll over. They let you try once, twice, and thrice they finally relented and helped you, rolling over onto their side off of you when you pushed.

You were breathless, turning to face Bloodhound, though you still reached up to tucked their hair behind their ear. “What kind of cake do you think they like?” you asked them, your hand resting on their cheek again.

“I like lemon,” they told you instead, and you grinned, nodding your head.

“Lemon it is then,” you agreed.

#apex legends #bloodhound #apex legends x reader #apex legends imagines #bloodhound x reader #bloodhound imagines #my writing #im just writing whatever i want at this point LMAO #whatever that comes to mind i have to get out at this point #i write for me at this point so sorry that the reader is ultra feminine! i like makeup and nails and idk wanted to justify how bloodhound #could like me LOL #ive been writing about cake too much im sorry #it just kinda goes hand and hand with bakery tanjirou #food tw #i dont really think the anime gifs go with apex but im trying to keep some sort of aesthetic akdanaknsma

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