#Mixed with a little bit of steam punk | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

stupid-sloot-headcanons · 3 years

Note

I have been pretty stressed lately but some fuck or die noncon with dabi in a dirty alleyway should make me feel better love your writing btw!

He should've known better than to go up against someone whose Quirk he didn't know on his own by himself. It was supposed to just be a quick murder, burning some trash to blow off some steam. The punk he'd stumbled upon had been carrying a suspicious case full of glass bottles, containing a dark pink liquid; Dabi hadn't paid it much thought until his fire blazed out of control, causing the punk to drop the case and run towards the alley's exit to escape the flames. A few of the bottles broke and splashed the liquid on Dabi's legs as he caught up to (and quickly disposed of) the lowlife. A sickeningly sweet smell permeated the scent of ash and burnt flesh and clogged Dabi's nostrils.

His flames subsided, but there was a heat pooling up in his body that wasn't there before--and as he felt more and more light-headed, it didn't show any signs of stopping. He stumbled back into the alley to grab one of the intact bottles and slip it into his pocket; maybe Ujiko could find something to fix...whatever the hell he'd just gotten exposed to. The heart-shaped label, sweet smell, and sudden throbbing of his cock gave him an idea of what it was.

Dabi staggered out, panting slightly as he clenched his fists and tried to find a familiar pathway leading to the hideout. "Shouldn't be too many people out at this hour," he muttered, trying to clear his mind by talking out loud. "I can just get back and sort this out..."

He winced and leaned against the building he was passing as the heat became more intense, and the blood rushing to his cock left him nearly doubled over. "Fuck!" He breathed heavily and felt his erection straining against his tattered pants' zipper. Okay, so maybe he couldn't make it back in time before this got out of hand. Maybe he can take advantage of the empty streets and quickly rub one out. This sort of aphrodisiac probably wears off after you cum, right?

His already tense body became even more rigid and tight when he heard someone walking behind him slowly. A woman's voice rang in his ears, and it left him feeling even hotter. "Um...are you okay, sir? Do you need an ambulance or something?" The footsteps came closer. "I--"

Dabi whipped around and pulled the woman close to him by her arm, which was outstretched to put a hand on his shoulder out of concern. She let out a scream of recognition and fear that was immediately cut off by the Villain pinning her to the wall and shoving his tongue past her lips and into her warm mouth. She kicked and tried to push him away, but a bit of sudden scorching heat and flickering blue flames made her retreat. A bit of blood leaked from the burn around his mouth, making the woman grimace and recoil in disgust as the taste covered her tongue.

Tears ran down her face as Dabi pulled away, holding her wrists with one hand while he burned and tore at her shirt, then her bra. Once her breasts were free, the sight of them left Dabi's legs quaking a bit. He unbuttoned her jeans with a shaky hand, shoving her bottoms inside as he rutted against her body. "Fuck," he groaned, leaning down to sloppily lick and suck on her breasts. "I might actually fuckin' die if I don't cum soon..."

The woman squeezed her eyes shut and tried to think of something, anything but what was happening to her right here and now. She was too afraid to scream for help, but she couldn't just let him do this...right? "P-please," she whimpered, gasping as Dabi ran his tongue over her already-hard nipple. "Please stop, I won't go to the police. Please..."

Dabi pulled away from her breast, breaking a long strand of drool connecting her skin to his cracked lips. He hastily shoved his pants down, finally freeing his stiff cock that already glistened with precum and coated his underwear with a damp spot. The cool nighttime air against it made him shiver, and he moved his hips forward to line himself up with her bare cunt. "I'll be quick." He felt her desperately push herself back against the wall, but he easily moved his cock again to her outer lips. Before she could beg him again to stop, he freed her wrists to grab her hips with both hands and enter her with one swift thrust.

The young woman yelped at the sudden intrusion, covering her mouth to stifle her sobs as Dabi set a rough, feral pace. Her breasts bounced and she felt the Villain's nails dig into her skin as he held her in place, and as he repeatedly drilled into her in a deep sensitive spot, the burning pain in her core slowly faded into a slick, warm mix of pleasure and pressure. She put her arms around him to support herself, and the scent of smoke and something acrid and medicinal coming from his clothes made her feel nauseous. Still, a lingering faint smell of something sweet was strangely comforting to her as she came closer and closer to a climax she didn't want.

Dabi felt her walls clamp down on his dick, moaning as he heard her little cries and squeals that grew higher and higher in pitch as he drilled into her. His entire body felt like it was radiating more heat than ever before as his heart beat faster and faster. "Gonna cum," he groaned through gritted teeth, furiously hitting her cervix with each thrust of his hips as he rode his high. "Gonna cum, gonna cum, gonna cum in your tight little pussy--FUCK!"

The young woman sobbed hysterically as she felt Dabi's seed flooding her from the inside, dripping down her thigh as he fucked her through his orgasm. The brick of the wall behind her left small scrapes on her back from his rough movements and the friction of her skin rubbing against it, and the feeling of pleasure stemming from those little spots of pain (and the shame from realizing that) pushed her over the edge. Dabi inhaled sharply at the sudden feeling of her clenching even tighter around him just as he was about to pull out of her, and his thighs shook a bit as he managed to pull out and felt a their mixed arousal around his twitching cock.

The woman slumped forward against Dabi as he continued to hold her up, too exhausted and emotionally drained to move anymore. A gust of wind ran over her body, and she shivered at how it left a cold sensation against her now-glistening cunt. She felt Dabi set her down and slumped against the wall, trembling at what he'd do to her now. Would he kill her? Would he leave her here, clothes torn and at the mercy of any other criminal stalking the streets?

Instead, he grabbed her hand and pulled her up before putting one arm around her to keep her from trying to run off--or, given her condition, stagger off. "Sorry for imposing on ya," he finally said, walking with her in the direction of the League's hideout. "But thanks for helping me get that drug out of my system. I'll return the favor by letting you live...and having you stay at my place."

The woman stared at him in disbelief. "Wh...why?"

"Why am I letting you live? You prefer if I just burn you right here and now?"

"No," she pleased, her voice thick with tears. "No, please, don't. I just...Why are you kidnapping me? I said I wouldn't go to the police." She stumbled next to him as she squirmed to pull her bottoms up around her waist; the squish of the cloth against her drenched pussy was uncomfortable, but it was easier to walk when her pants weren't around her ankles.

Dabi smirked and "helped" her pull her pants up by hooking a finger through one of her belt loops and pulling up, letting his hand linger around her ass. "Yeah, but I'm not too trusting," he replied casually. "Now I KNOW you won't go to the cops." He pulled her closer to his side and chuckled when he heard her whimper again. "You'll be a good girl for me, right? You're not the type to fuck a guy and then break his heart by running off, I can tell."

The young woman sniffled and wordlessly continued to walk alongside him. She felt a strange sensation in her head, almost as if she were floating and watching herself above her own head. Her body was covered in sweat and random ash and lewd fluid, and her eyes felt heavier by the second as the adrenaline in her body wore off. She was only snapped out of her trance when she heard Dabi speak again.

"What's your name?"

She hesitated for a moment, but decided to speak. "____."

Dabi rubbed his fingers against her side and smiled, brushing his cheek against hers as they walked while joined at the hip. A bit of blood smeared her face. "So, my girl's name is ____. I like it. It suits you." He noticed the blood and the drying tear stains on her face and smiled with a sadistic glint in his eye. Those seemed to suit his girl just as well.

#.bnha #yandere bnha #.dabi #yandere dabi #tw: noncon #.myshit #fem darling

121 notes · View notes

xenonmalachite · 2 years

Photo

Ayo. Decided that I needed some more self indulgence on here and I present to you, Truss. Truss was a “what if” I had that slowly developed into a character as I talked to people. She’s become her own little thing. So yeah. Story goes i was messing about with the concept my OC, Loco Motion, and Crosshairs took in a kid that was by chance an equal mixture of them; confident and ready to go, but analytical and cognitive. someone who boasts and actually has the skills to back up their claims. Thus Truss was born

Truss was fun to draw and experiment with. I had this idea of a train conductor sorta character and I had asked some friends for colour advice and soon it all mixed and came together. I love how she turned out. I drew her as and adult and child in both transformer and human form just to play with what she may look like in the future when she’s grown up. I got some advice from a friend to not point out the flaws in my drawing but I will admit there is one thing I need to point out and it’s that she’s holding a spanner wrench. Idk if people would know so just pouting that out.

But I’m loving how her colour scheme turned out. She looks so steam punk even as a transformer with these colours and it’s so incredible.

Bio under cut.

Name: Truss

Nickname: Tres

Age: same as Pixie, about 9-11 currently.

Gender: femme

Faction: autobots

(Too young to transform)

Family:

Crosshairs and Loco Motion (adoptive parents), Pixie (adoptive cousin, Cross’ side if the family), Roadbuster (adoptive uncle, Cross’ side of the family), Edge Climber, Havoc, Deepdive (adoptive uncles, Loco’s side of the family) Magma Drive (adoptive aunt, Loco’s side of the family)

Personality:

Truss is aiming to be the ultimate train conductor. she loves collecting model trains and tracks as well as fixing old ones she finds. She’s a bit of a tinkerer and loves to know how things work. She’s been known to take apart toys to see what makes them tick. She’s very knowledgeable and clever, often talking about her findings and wanting to know more. Of course, she’s very confident in her skills, almost boastful. She loves to show off what she can do in her skill set and is routine based. She has a superstition where if she doesn’t retrace her footsteps out of a train station when she exits, something will happen. Truss also is sensitive to flickering lights, being on the spectrum. Truss has no filter and says what comes to her mind which may make her somewhat brutally honest

Backstory:

Truss doesn’t remember exactly how it happened. She found herself in a junkyard one day with only her name, age, and her knowledge. No memory of how she got there or why she was there. She didn’t remember any family she had. Since it was after the Chicago incident, the junkyard was pretty empty. And her colouring also camouflaged her with the rust. Truss made it her own personal shelter. The time she spent there was focused on learning about the world around her. Truss has knowledge of using tools but she couldn’t remember where she got it from. She started to use that knowledge to help figure out the world around her. She took apart and put things back together, figuring out how they worked.

It wasn’t until later her luck came when she was found by an autobot couple, Crosshairs and Loco Motion. They found her picking apart an old music box with a stuffed toy lioness by her side. To say they were confused was an understatement. Truss didn’t seem afraid of them, knowing the autobot symbol was a good one. She sat with them as they waited for her parents to find her. When night hit and there was no sigh, they took her back to where they were based after getting supplies. It was then they realized the severity. Medics found she had a healed area on her head which may have caused the memory loss but no one could figure out when it happened or with what. As they helped Truss adapt more to a better life in a more safer environment, the discussion came up about her being taken under the wing of Crosshairs and Loco Motion, raising her as their own. Tests showed her bio parents were either no longer on earth or were unfortunate casualties. And with no other family, she was alone. They discussed and it was agreed upon that they take Truss in and adopt her. Truss especially loves the support her adoptive family has given her, allowing her to express her interests and explore how the world works.

#transformers oc #tf oc #maccadam #maccadams #bayverse #bayformers #transformers bayverse #humanformers #malachite arts

13 notes · View notes

silverarmedassassin · 3 years

Text

Home for the Holidays (2/2)

Bucky x Reader | Word Count: 5,661 | Warnings: None

A/N: Here is part two! Thank you to those who humored me and read this little mini story! Part 1 can be found on my masterlist, which is conveniently pinned to my blog 😬

This is part 2 to my holiday submission for @wonderlandmind4‘s fall/winter writing challenge. My prompt was: Character B is very enthusiastic to introduce character A to all their traditions, but tries to be sensitive when A seems like they’re struggling to fit in/enjoy themselves.

Dividers by the lovely @firefly-graphics

“You’re going to love it here,” you announce as you take the exit to your small hometown. The drive out of the city had been relatively quiet, the playlist you’d crafted specifically for the trip was only briefly interrupted a handful of times by you pointing out a landmark or attraction tied to childhood memories. Normally, silence on a road trip would make you uncomfortable, but not with Bucky. In the few months you’ve known him, you’d come to understand he was a man of very few words most of the time, so you rarely felt the need to fill the empty space with senseless words.

You’d gotten to know him a lot better in the few weeks leading up to Christmas. He had been making an effort to spend time outside of his apartment more, which often meant he would come down to yours to share a meal or watch a movie. It was nice, getting to spend so much uninterrupted time with Bucky and, if the offhand comments that Sam had offered the handful of times you’d seen him coming and going, Bucky was enjoying the time too. If anything, it was helping him open up again. And, if that’s all you could offer your neighbor, it wouldn’t be the end of the world.

Bucky doesn’t say anything, instead he continues to look at his window at the passing landscape. Driving home has always been one of your favorite things to do, as the concrete jungle of the city slowly tapered off into nothing but dense forest, hills, and nature preserves. As much as you loved where you were in life now, there were always moments in time where you questioned why you’d ever decided to re-root yourself in New York City.

Once off the interstate, it doesn’t take you long to reach town limits, and it’s only a few short minutes of driving to reach your parent’s home. As you pull your car into the drive, you see Bucky tense out of your peripheral. You’d had a feeling the reason he was being so quiet today was because he was nervous, but this subtle action reaffirmed that.

“My dad’s not home yet,” you state nonchalantly in an attempt to ease his anxieties a little. “It’s just my mom home. I told her to be on her best behaviour, so you don’t have to worry about a million questions.”

Bucky glances over at you and the look in his eyes tells you that statement has eased him just a little. The fact he was so nervous to meet you family made you feel bad for even inviting him in the first place. But you knew he didn’t have anyone, as Rebecca’s family was going on a cruise, and Bucky had shared Sam was spending the holiday with his mother out of state. Despite your wanting to help him feel less alone during this awkward time of transition and settling, you felt guilty for bringing him all the way here.

Before you can let that guilt settle uncomfortably in your chest, you pop the trunk and jump out of the car. You’re only going to be home for four days, as Bucky didn’t want to stay away for too long and you wanted to use the extra time off of work to finally finish making your apartment feel like your home. Due to that, you both only had a small duffle of clothing, so unloading your things was quick.

As you lead Bucky up to the front door, you’re suddenly reminded to alert him of one tiny detail that might make him uncomfortable. As you turn to tell him, the front door of flings open and your mom comes barreling out, arms wide open. “I forgot to tell you,” you say, voice slightly muffled by your mother’s arms, “Mom’s a hugger.”

“Oh hush,” your mom says as she pulls away from you, her sights already set on Bucky. “Everyone needs a good hug.”

That night, Bucky had an easier time falling asleep than he ever imagined. New places, mixed with the fear of having one of his nightmares typically kept him up, if not all night, into the wee hours of the morning. The non-prescription sleeping pills Sam had suggested, mixed with the calming effect you seemed to have on him, were likely to thank for the early night. He isn’t surprised, however, when he startles awake around three in the morning. As he sits up in bed, sweat-drenched hair sticking to the sides of his face, he tries to remember what exactly the dream was about. It was another little something Sam and the others had suggested he do, something about acknowledging the things that hurt us most or something.

After a few minutes of sorting through his brain and trying to pin-point exactly what was the cause of his sudden consciousness, he gives up. Bucky decides that, instead of attempting to fall back to sleep right away, he would refill his glass of water and attempt to clear his mind of any lingering shadows.

Your home is quiet, a kind of peace settles over the entire building that no place in the city could ever harness. He thinks that maybe one day he’ll retire, move someplace quiet like this, maybe have a family of his own. Bucky pauses slightly in his descent of the staircase, caught off-guard by his own thoughts. He’d never been one to think about the future, not since he woke up in it. Just living to see the sunrise over Manhattan another day was enough for him. But his mind hasn’t quite been the same since you came along.

As he rounds the corner into the kitchen, he expects to find it devoid of others, but instead finds your mother sitting at the small kitchen table you’d all been sitting around just hours before, laughing and sharing a lifetime of memories with an outsider.

“Trouble sleeping,” she asks without looking over to where he’s standing. Instead, she raises a steaming mug to her lips and takes a tentative sip.

“Ye-yeah,” Bucky says, voice still thick with sleep and disuse.

Your mom hums as she looks over to him, profile lit effortlessly by the early winter moonlight streaming in from the back door. “That’s nothing a good cup of tea can’t help fix. There’s still water in the kettle if you’d like.”

Bucky watches her a moment longer before accepting her offer. She directs him on where everything he needs is located and, before he knows it, he’s sitting down across from her, his own warm mug full of a lavender and something concoction. If anything, at least it smells good.

“I’m really glad Y/N brought you along, Bucky,” your mom says as she takes another sip of her own tea. There’s a glint in the corner of her eye that Bucky can’t quite place, and it admittedly makes him a little nervous. “I do have to admit that her father and I were a bit shocked when she said she was bringing someone home. And then finding out that someone was a...well, you. I guess you never expect your own kid to get mixed up in the affairs of a superhero,” she chuckles to herself.

Bucky takes a large drink of his tea, instantly regretting it as it burns his throat the entire way down. He doesn’t know how to respond to that. When it had sunk in that he was going to be visiting you home for Christmas, meeting your parents and seeing your hometown, it made him anxious. He remembered that, back when he was still the punk who ran the streets of old-time Brooklyn like he owned the place, when a girl invited you to meet her parents it meant you were going steady, or at least headed in that direction. He knew things had changed a lot in terms of dating and relationships in general between men and women in the eighty-odd years he had been under, but he couldn’t help but wonder if this - spending one-on-one time with his beautiful downstairs neightbor’s mom - still held the same implications as it did in the forties.

“I, uh,” Bucky isn’t sure what to say. He doesn’t want to make it sound like he is disinterested in you, he knew that you talked about him in some capacity with your mother, afterall. But at the same time he didn’t want to sound too overzealous on the off-chance that this entire trip meant nothing other than a friendly visit for the holiday. “I’m really thankful you opened your home for me.”

Your mom takes Bucky off guard when she snorts out a small laugh. “I’m sorry, I don’t mean to...Listen, I don’t know exactly what is going on between you and my daughter, but whatever it is, it’s really good for her. Y/N is, as you’ve likely picked up, a giver and a caretaker. She never asks for help when she needs it, and rarely accepts it when it’s offered.

“She took the whole Snap thing pretty hard, harder than she let on I think. That’s when she really threw herself at taking care of others, so much so that she forgot to take care of herself sometimes.” She pauses and looks intently down at her mug. “Y/N needs to be taken care of sometimes, too. And, whether you know it or not, I think you do that. I haven’t seen my daughter this happy in a long time. So of course we would open our home for you. Now and whenever you may need it.”

Bucky’s unsure of how to respond to such a tender sentiment, but the way your mom is looking at him tells him no response is needed. It’s a look, he assumes, only a mother can give. One of knowing and mystery and tender loving. One that she so openly offered to him, a stranger, an intruder in her home and holiday season. He realizes then that, everything he’s gone through, everything he’s ever done both voluntarily and not, doesn’t carry as much as he’s been thinking. That, despite it all, maybe he is more than what HYDRA made him and that he is deserving of the good things that have come to him in recent weeks.

“Well, Bucky,” your mom says as she takes one final sip of her tea. “I’m going to try to get some sleep. I suggest you do the same. Christmas Eve is kind of a big deal around here. You’ll need the energy, especially if you want to keep up with Y/N.”

Bucky quickly learned that when your mom said that Christmas Eve was a big deal, she meant it. You had come knocking at his door a little past seven this morning, telling him that, if he did not get up, you would not hesitate to grab a handful of snow. Despite the too few hours of sleep he ended up getting and the desire to hide away just a little longer before facing your entire family again, Bucky pulled himself out of bed and plastered a smile on his face.

The morning passes in a flurry of Christmas activity. Cookie dough is beat and patted and molded into festive shapes while various Christmas melodies flowed through the home. It was tradition, you had said as you deposited a fresh batch of snickerdoodles into the oven, that Christmas Eve morning was reserved for baking and eggnog making and singing out-of-tune to Christmas songs. So, you taught him how to use a rolling pin properly, showed him the perfect amount of pressure to put on the cookie cutters, and even scolded him when he took a spoonful of dough all for himself. The uncooked sugary goodness was just as good as he remembered.

As the last of the cookies are placed on a rack to cool, and the eggnog is nestled neatly into the fridge to chill, Bucky feels his back pocket start to vibrate. His heart drops momentarily when he pulls his phone out and sees Sam’s name scrolling across the screen. Sam only called for two reasons: Avengers business or to coax him out of the hole Bucky sometimes digs himself into, and only one was pertinent to the situation at hand.

Bucky excuses himself and steps out onto the back porch where he can talk in private. “Is everything okay,” Bucky asks in place of a proper greeting.

“Merry fuckin’ Christmas to you too, bud,” comes Sam’s witty response. Bucky has never wished to reach through a phone and slap the grin he just knows Sam is wearing right off his face. “I was just calling to see how things were going.”

“They’re fine, Sam,” Bucky huffs out, crossing his metal arm across his chest. “I made cookies for the first time, I think.”

Bucky can’t help but crack a smile when Sam starts to laugh on the other end. “That must have been a scene. I would tell everyone not to eat ‘em, though.”

The easygoing banter continues for a few minutes before the topic shifts to how Bucky is really doing. He shares his past day - because really he’s only been away from the city for a little over twenty-four hours - and Sam updates him on the goings-on at his own family gathering. Bucky listens intently while watching a pair of cardinals take turns pecking at the bird feeder hanging just beyond the porch and the sunset looming just beyond the yard.

“You sound really good, Buck. I’m real happy this neighbor can look past your shitty moods and spend time with you,” Sam says before saying his goodbyes. Bucky would be lying if he said he wasn’t happy to hear from him. It was one of those little things that reminded him there were people out there that cared.

Instead of going back inside right away, Bucky decides to stay out on the back porch a little longer to enjoy the view of the setting sun and the tranquility that comes with being out of the city. It was rare that he found himself in a place as quiet as this, with a view unobstructed by skyscrapers. He wanted to savor the moment a little longer, appreciate the things he hadn’t realized he’d been missing for all these years.

“Pretty, isn’t it?” While lost in reverie, Bucky hadn’t heard you join him on the porch. He looks over to find you standing just to his left, already focused on the view. He admires the way the last rays of daylight streak across your face, takes in the way it makes you look like you’re lit from within by some ethereal, otherworldly energy. And maybe you were. After all, you’d somehow found a way to look past his flaws and broken pieces and settle yourself deep within his bones, whether you knew it or not.

“Yea, it is,” Bucky replies without taking his eyes off of your face. He’s not sure if he means the sun or you.

You look at him, then, the softest smile he’s ever seen planted on your face. He notices that under your left eye is a streak of flour that had found a home there at some point throughout the day. Without much thought, Bucky makes to wipe it away. “You have a little...” when he swipes his finger across the soft skin of your cheek, he swears he hears your breath hitch in your throat, but he tries not to think too much into it. He had unintentionally used his left hand, after all.

You both stand there like that for a moment, his thumb still lingering just under your lower lashes and you looking at him like he was the one responsible for this sunrise and sunset every day. The spell is broken, however, when a winter breeze blows through, causing your to shiver and curl in on yourself for warmth.

“Hey, so, if you’re up to it, we still have one more Y/L/N tradition that we have yet to complete.” You wait for a reaction, and Bucky’s not sure what you were looking for, but when he doesn’t say anything, you continue. “The city goes all out with the lights each year, and we usually go downtown to look at them. You don’t have to come if you don’t want to. It’s usually kinda busy, and I know it’s cold and-”

“I’d love to,” Bucky smiles, and when he sees the unparalleled joy that spreads across your face, he knows then that he would say or do anything to be the reason for that look over and over again.

It’s just beginning to flurry when you make it to the main drag of your little hometown. Your parents lived just far enough away to feel like a quiet neighborhood, but close enough that you could easily walk downtown without immediately regretting your decision.

It comes as no surprise when you find the wider-than-normal sidewalks in front of the neat row of old storefronts crowded with other residents bundled up in their winter’s best. Despite the shoulder-to-shoulder situation in some sections of the street, you didn’t mind the crowd one bit. The unique and beautifully decorated window displays and intricately lit buildings and trees made the awkward shuffling and getting elbowed by strangers worth it.

At some point, you get separated from your parents and, when you turn to see Bucky’s reaction to the spectacle, you find he’s a good two couples away from you. You decide then that the only way you’re going to avoid being separated from anyone else is by looping your arm through his. He doesn’t fight it, and there’s only a slight moment of stiff awkwardness before he relaxes his arm and allows you to guide him through the crowd. Your cheeks hurt from the genuine smile on your face, and your throat is already feeling the effects of the amount of talking you’re doing. You have to point everything out to Bucky, though, from the horrifying, oversized light-up tooth the town’s dentist has put on display since you could remember to the ever-changing elegant light show that danced across the courthouse. You’re so enthralled in making sure you share every last detail of this special tradition that you fail to notice the way Bucky has closed in on himself.

Despite the glistening lights and the way the moonlight was catching on the large snowflakes as they fell, the light that usually shown in Bucky’s eyes had dimmed to barely the flicker of a candle. The smile that graced his lips was for your benefit and only appeared when you looked back at him to ensure he was still listening to you. As much as he loved watching your enthusiasm seep out of every pore, and enjoyed hearing the way the pitch of your voice got just a bit higher when you spotted something you especially enjoyed, Bucky wasn’t having a good time. The crowd, despite living in New York City, was making him nauseous. Every time he let you pull him down a side street, each seemingly smaller than the next, you felt the knot that had settled in the bottom of his belly tighten just a little bit more. At least when he was in the city, he felt comfortable, knew his way around most of modern-day Brooklyn, and had identified the perfect escape routes just in case a situation went south. Luckily, he’s never had to utilize such routes. But here? The place you were so excited to show him, share with him was foreign to him. The idea of not knowing what waited beyond each turn of the corner, who stood watching through the windows above the quaint storefronts took him back to his time on the run, back to when his days were filled with strict, careful routine, and he felt he was living on borrowed time.

“Earth to Bucky,” you laughed as you waved a hand in front of his face. He blinked a few times, pulling himself back to the surface before he could drown in his thoughts. You were looking at him, obviously waiting for an answer to a question he didn’t hear. “Where’d you go?” you laughed, blissfully unaware of the demons that were creeping in the shadows of Bucky’s still fucked mind.

“I, uh, got caught up in the lights, I guess,” he replied lamely, flinching when he realized just how stupid the answer sounds. He watches as an array of emotions flick across your eyes; amusement, questioning, concern. He had to look away before you could settle on a look of pity. Bucky couldn’t handle that.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” your probe, pulling him off to the side of the walkway into the entryway of one of the many buildings. “You don’t look so good.”

Bucky felt like kicking himself, wanted to scream at and scold his fragile mind for taking the joy and excitement you had been exuding just moments ago and turning it into worry, pity, anything but what you deserved to be feeling right now. “Bucky, please tell me if something’s wrong.”

He takes a breath before looking down at his snow-covered boots. “The crowds, being in an unfamiliar place...I still have problems with that, I guess.”

Your face falls even more at that. “Why didn’t you say something? We could have gone back home ages ago. Or not come at all. Or, or…”

“Y/N, it’s fine. Really. This is a tradition; I didn’t want to ruin it.”

You cross your arms and pout at that. He’s waiting for you to stomp your foot, much like Becca used to as a child when something didn’t go her way. The thought of his sister stings a little. She would have loved something like this, Bucky thinks, and that makes his uncomfortableness even more of a nuisance. He’s alive and able to see crazy Christmas displays and enjoy the things children growing up when he did couldn’t experience, yet here he is, broken and wishing he was anywhere else.

You pull him from his revere again when you start to tug on his metal arm. “Come on,” you huff, not out of annoyance or anger, but something else he can’t quite put his finger on.

“We’re not going back to your house,” he says, digging his heels into the concrete. This causes you to stumble a little and let go of his arm. “Please, don’t let me ruin this for you. I’ll be fine.”

“The only way you’ll ruin this is if you continue to be miserable while walking around. This is the same display as last year anyway,” you shrug. “I think I can skip one year.”

The two of you stand there for a moment, just looking at each other before Bucky sighs and relents. You loop your arm through his again, this time holding it a bit firmer and closer to your body, and begin to worm your way through the crowd. The further you get from the downtown streets, the quieter and emptier the sidewalks became. It wasn’t long before it was just the two of you walking along in silence. Despite the crowd-less walk, you don’t drop his arm.

“I’m really glad you came with,” you whisper after a few minutes. You’d lead him down the long route to your home, both for the fact it was sparsely traveled by foot and because you weren’t quite ready to lose the closeness of holding Bucky’s arm. “Even if I made you uncomfortable.”

Bucky doesn’t say anything for a moment, and you think he’s retreated back into wherever he goes when he’s feeling stressed, but then he replies. “No, thank you. This is obviously a special holiday for you and your family. And here I am, intruding.”

You snort and bring your free hand up to wrap around his metal forearm. “You could never intrude, Bucky. I enjoy spending time with you.”

Despite the chill in the air, Bucky has never felt as warm as he does when those six words leave your mouth.

When you return home, boots are quickly shed and coats are hung neatly in the closet. Bucky stands quietly by the door, waiting for your lead. Despite your efforts of making him feel comfortable in your home, his movements were still shy and timid as he glided over the hardwood floors.

“I’m going to finish putting the dishes away,” you say after a moment and nod towards the T.V.. “You’re more than welcome to turn something on, I’ll only be a second.”

Bucky nods his head and watches you disappear into the dark kitchen. He waits until the clatter of pans and ceramic bowls reaches his ears to head up to the guest room. He didn’t feel much like socializing anymore. The day, despite its laid back approach and festive touch, had been both mentally and emotionally draining for him.

Bucky gracelessly flops down onto his back on the borrowed bed. He’s contemplating sending a message to Sam, maybe do that video chatting Wanda enjoyed so much but he loathed. He needed the comfort of home, the familiar to drag him from the hole he could feel himself sinking into. Despite his best efforts, he couldn’t even enjoy himself on Christmas fucking Eve. He sighs as he flips onto his side and listens as the faint sounds of you puttering around the kitchen, his enhanced hearing allowing him to hear your humming of a Christmas song he can’t quite place, travel up the stairs and wrap him in a warm embrace.

He’s not sure when he drifted off, or for how long, but you pull him back to the surface of consciousness with three soft knocks on the cracked bedroom door. “Bucky?” you say softly, not daring to enter his space without an invitation. “Is everything alright?”

“Tired, I guess,” Bucky says as he pushes himself to sit up. As he swings his feet over the side, you push the door open a little more so that you can see him.

“There’s a...We have one more tradition that I’d like to share with you, but I wanted to do it separately.” You timidly step further into the room, arms held behind your back. “We usually share one present on Christmas Eve. Typically pajamas, sometimes just a gag gift. And I, uh, I wanted to make sure you were included this year.”

Bucky watches you carefully as you make your way to sit next to him on the bed. As you settle in on the mattress, you rest a neatly wrapped package on your lap. He watches as you run your hands along the paper in a nervous attempt to smooth out the nonexistent impurities. When he finally looks up to your face, he finds that you are already intently watching him, your gaze unwavering as his meets it.

“But I don’t have anything for you,” he nervously blurts out. He can feel the heat of embarrassment as it creeps up the back of his neck when you offer him a soft laugh.

“That’s not the point, Bucky. Just...here.”

You shove the gift into his hands and, as he examines it, he can feel you practically vibrating with the excited but nervous energy you’re not giving off. This was always the worst part of receiving gifts - having to open them in front of the giver. It always made Bucky a little anxious, worried that he wouldn’t deliver the expected or desired reaction. He smooths his hands over the silver paper a moment longer before he digs a finger into a seam in the wrapping. He’s slow to unwrap your gift, a part of him wishing that you hadn’t gifted him anything at all. Bucky didn’t have anything for you, and, the more he thinks about the fact he showed up to a holiday without even a small gift for the one who invited him, it makes him want to leave and never show his face around you or your family again.

When the wrapping is finally discarded, a brown leather book sits firmly in his lap. His name, his full name, is expertly embossed across the front, and the corners decorated with a simply but intricate design. When he flips it open to the first page, a set of familiar faces are smiling back up at him. His ma, dad, and himself with Becca tucked neatly in what he remembers to be a soft yellow blanket - the photo of when they brought her home, the first photo he saw when he visited her just two short months ago.

“I wanted to give you something special, meaningful,” you say when Bucky looks up at you. “Your family helped too. They gave me copies of your old pictures, provided some of their own.”

Bucky looks back to the book as he continues to flip. He watches himself grow older with each turn of the page. Pictures his ma had taken, some from school, even some from his time as a Howling Commando. Articles, magazine clippings, and copies of book pages filled the middle of the book, all about him, praising him for what he did and what they thought he lost his life doing. He can feel tears start to prick at the corners of his eyes as he looks over previously unread words of kindness, admiration, and sadness, all for him.

He doesn’t think he could feel any fuller until he flips to a hand-drawn picture of himself and Bridget, signed sloppily but in the most loving way. He can’t help but let out a watery laugh, and he can hear you add your own chuckle. “She was very excited when I asked her to contribute. That little girl loves you so much already, you know?”

Yes, Bucky knows. He knows his worth in this world now, thinks he’s finally found his misplaced spot in this place in time, and it’s all thanks to you. His chest grows tighter the further he flips in the scrapbook. Pictures of his sister when on her wedding day, when his first niece was born. Graduation photos, birthdays, and family get-togethers just because all were documented for him to see, for him to live through these pictures because he wasn’t around to bear witness in person.

When he gets to the very last pages, he pauses. A face he hadn’t expected to see smiling back at him was tucked neatly in this book, and it filled him with a warmth he thought his poor, frozen bones would never feel again. A picture of you and him on the day of Becca’s funeral, all smiles despite the somber day. It looks like you’re mid-laugh and had only just looked at the camera in time for the photo to capture your face. He’d almost forgotten that a family member - name and relation lost to him at the moment - had insisted on getting pictures of all those in attendance, had mentioned something about never seeing each other outside of things like these so he had to take advantage. He was glad that cousin or nephew or third-something-twice-removed had pestered them into taking it, because, despite not wanting to look at his broken, mismatched self, you were there shining brighter than he thinks he’s ever seen any star.

“Bucky,” you whisper, clearly unsure of what to make of his silence.

“I...I don’t know what to say, Y/N,” Bucky swallows the lump in his throat in an attempt to keep the tears that have begun to swell in his eyes from coming out in his voice. “This is the most thoughtful thing anyone has ever given me - done for me, actually.”

When he looks up at you, he tries to blink back the tears but it causes them to spill down onto his cheeks instead. “Oh, Bucky,” you gently laugh and raise a hand to wipe away his tears. When your hand makes contact with his cheek, however, you realize what you’re doing and make to pull it back. Bucky, however, is quicker and places his flesh hand on top of yours to hold it firmly to his fuzz-covered cheek.

“I lied,” he whispers and you give him a concerned and questioning look. “Earlier. I said I didn’t have a gift for you, but I do.” As he’s speaking, he slowly begins to lean in closer until your face-to-face, only a breath away from one another. “Only if you want it, though.”

You nod and bring your other hand up to fully cup his face as he closes the space between you, gently connecting your lips. It’s a slow, chaste kiss that has him craving more. More of the feel of your soft lips against his, more of your breath catching in your throat, more feeling your eyelashes butterfly across his own as you pull away just enough to rest your forehead against his. He opens his eyes slightly to get a peak of you. You’re already looking at him, a smile spread across your lips.

In that moment, he wishes he had the ability to read minds so that he could know exactly what you were thinking. Before he has the chance to say anything, you’re leaning back, this time pressing your lips more firmly against his own. If it weren’t for the fact he was so enraptured in the essence of you, he would be embarrassed by the low groan that rumbles deep in his chest. He feels your lips perk up into a wider smile before planting another quick peck to his lips before pulling away so that you could look him square in the eyes.

You brush a lock of his hair from his face and tuck it behind his ear before whispering, “Merry Christmas, Bucky.”

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky fluff #wonderland4seasonalwc

40 notes · View notes

sourbat · 3 years

Note

is hammertooth 39 (secret admirer) ok? It might be for any other ship instead if it's already asked !

*throws arms* have an entire fic.

Heads up: i cheated and wrote an AU

Rehearsal was every Tuesday and Thursday, from 5pm onward, though it was unusual for practice to extend beyond nine. Even in the rare instances it did break past the dreaded four-hour barrier, Toki wasn’t too worried. The cold still of the night never bothered him so long as he had space to move and breathe in, along with the lamplight to remind him he was above ground, and enjoyed the ten-minute walk from the rehearsal studio to the small building that served as both a used bookstore and café. Tonight wasn’t any different. It was just past nine when Toki entered the café, plaintive expression replaced with a hit of musical nostalgia and the hot, tasty aroma of roasting coffee.

Toki took to visiting the café two weeks into joining the band, after a session ended with a nasty downpour. Toki had somehow missed the industrial, brick building that hosted both shops until late at night while shivering and waiting for his bus that only arrived by the hour past eight. Though he barely read anything past age twelve, and had hardly any money to spare, Toki took residence in the store filled to the brim with dry-smelling books, posters, tie-dye shirts, puzzles and board games, and Toki eventually found himself cozily situated at a table located in the furthermost corner of the café, where the boundary between books and nitro cold-brewed drinks met. It was past nine, and hardly a soul was ordering anything caffeinated at this hour, but no one told Toki to leave, so he stayed. No one told him off the second time he stumbled in, this time entering through the café side of the parlor, and once Toki grew familiar with the table nearest the glass pane with a view of street, decided he’d make the warm-smelling shop a permanent fixture of his rituals until politely asked to leave.

Winter had officially arrived, and though the weather paled in comparison to Norway’s frosty, white winters, Toki donned his fair share of layers as he stepped inside the café. He was hit with a warm, flavorful scent, and inhaled deeply as he glanced at the counter, spotting the backside of the tall barista busy draining old decaffeinated coffee into the sink, and walked to his usual spot. He passed old music posters of punk-rock bands, indie groups and displays stapled to the brim with “wanted” ads or requests for roomies, and located his seat tucked by the window.

There was a cup of coffee waiting for him when he arrived.

Once he set his guitar aside, Toki eyed the cup, picked it up, and wasn’t surprised that it was still warm. He also wasn’t surprised when he removed the foam protector and saw the same sloppy heart hurriedly etched by the barista when he took the order, and wasn’t too shocked when he brought the lip to his nostrils and inhaled that delectable scent of sweet white and bitter chocolate intermingling with one another. Toki glanced around the area, spotting an older gentleman reading the paper, two students engaged in vigorous studying, the barista sorting through the remaining biscuits and treats in the display rack, and another employee pushing a tray of books just outside the café’s perimeter.

This was the fourth time Toki was greeted with a cup of coffee, and the fourth time he missed out on figuring out who had ordered it for him. The first time was understandable: rehearsal ended earlier than normal after a string snapped and cut Skwisgaar’s hand, and when Toki snuck inside, had a long line of people asking for smoothies and precooked take away meals. With all the hulabaloo, Toki barely noticed when the barista slipped by his table, dropped off the cup, and told him “it’s on the house” before parting, giving Toki no time to respond. By the time Toki finished being so giddy over the surprise gift, had considered that he’d need to give himself a shot before drinking, so much time had passed and when he looked around the café. He couldn’t begin to sort through the crowds and determine who bought him the surprised drink. The second time was stupidity on his part, having forgotten the promise of checking the café because it had been so cold, and upon being granted the cup, was so thankful he only had the forethought to thank the barista before greedily using the hot cup to warm his tired, chilled spirits. The third was a bust because, like today, when Toki arrived the drink was already waiting for him. Toki thought about asking the barista since he was the one filling the orders, but because Toki knew the barista was friendly with the girl customers and coworkers, he was hesitant to ask for a name.

He rubbed the tip of his nose, enjoying the heated friction caused by plastic and chocolatey steam, then settled into his seat and took the first warm sip. The beverage was warm, but not as hot as it normally was when he arrived half-past eight. Whoever was buying him drinks either probably had to leave before or around nine.

Toki took another sip, smiling to himself and whomever his secret admirer might be.

What if it’s a dude, Toki pondered midway through a gulp that, despite the beverage’s lukewarm temperature, still managed to fill his chest with a comforting warmth. Whoever was buying him drinks, Toki wished they weren’t so shy. Bad enough Toki had a miserable time figuring out when a person was flirting with him. He finally had someone signaling their direct interest, and they were too afraid to approach little ol’ him for a small chat. Toki didn’t see why. He’d love for someone to sit down with him and let him in how they figured the combination of white and dark chocolate would be his favorite, or give their opinion on the ancient, but tasteful punk that played muted in the background of the café side of the shop. Of course, Toki would also love to know when they noticed him, developed a crush, and decided to help bring an end to his long, cold nights with something so sweet and thoughtful, but for now would settle for a simple “hello.”

He finished his drink quickly, enjoying the warmth while it lasted, and settled into his corner, eyeing the intersection and bus top near the corner. A few minutes passed, and something knocked gently against his table. Toki jolted, turned and saw the tall barista retract his hand to then point a finger at the neglected cup.

“Hey, man,” he greeted coolly, offering a short nod to Toki. “You good?”

Toki couldn’t help but notice the clock on the wall, saw it was thirteen minutes to closing, and the barista’s serene politeness was likely a passive means of trying to kick him out. He gave him a nervous nod in return, then reached for his guitar case’s strap as the barista picked up the cup.

“You headed out already?” the barista commented once Toki slung the case over his shoulder.

Toki made one glance at the barista. It only then dawned on him that his admirer might be one of the workers in the store. The urge to ask the barista filled his gut with butterflies, and when the older man asked if there was something on his mind, Toki shook his head, stood so quickly his case almost got trapped with the chair, and stumbled off.

Perhaps another night, Toki thought, then exited the café.

…

After a particularly good, but exhausting rehearsal, Toki arrived at the café just shy of 8:42 p.m. The last of the early Christmas shoppers were making their rounds on the book half of the store, and there were a few shoppers, mostly families, huddled around the dessert and snack display.

When he exited the bathroom, Toki was greeted to the surprising snap of peppermint mixed with his mocha, along with a decent helping of cracked peppermint and chocolate sprinkles coating the whipped top. There were quite the number of cute, friendly faces in the area, though Toki was helplessly lost at determining whether the occasional glance in his direction was a possible sign of interest. He does pick up on the heat of his cup, and when he slides the foam covering down, sees the same sloppy heart had smeared when he pressed and dragged the cardboard against it.

Maybe it is a worker, he thought, eyes wandering around, darting between hanging lightbulbs, tables covered with neglected magazines and leftover gift wrapping. Given the size of the bookstore, chances were it was one of the late-night shift workers. Toki’s eyes settled on a family leaving the café, holding some wrapped books, and felt his stomach tickle as he took another sip of his delicious drink. They could be seasonal, he worried, after dwelling on the thought a bit longer.

A sharp voice called out a name, and when Toki trend, saw the barista leaving the pick-up counter to start chatting with the young woman working alongside him. The thought to ask the barista arose once more, and this time Toki counted on the unspoken bond between men to hopefully work up the courage to ask the older gentleman. Sure, the guy was always so friendly with the girls, but that didn’t change the laws of nature, right? Guys looked out for each other, Toki concluded, and convinced himself to leave the seat and approach the line once it had shrunk to an acceptable wait.

Toki stared at a few delectable treats, unaware that he was up next until the barista called for him.

“Hey there,” he greeted, voice cheery and befitting for the season.

Toki nervously fidgeted once the man caught his attention. A sharp, brown eye settled on Toki. “Uhm, hellos,” he said, both amazed and discouraged that his confidence would vanish so quickly with a simple look.

The barista glanced at his coworker, sent her silent nod, then returned to the register. He rested both hands on the counter, and with a friendly countenance, asked, “Anything I can get ya, man?”

The question was friendly enough, and the man, despite his rough features, had a nice smile that drew Toki forward.

“Uhm, askually…” The barista gave a nod. Toki thought about how he overstayed his welcome the last time, and wondered if the barista remembered, or cared. Probably not, Toki thought, or hoped. Prayed. “I justs wanted…”

“We got an issue in the back.” The female coworker popped her head from a room, her thick hair bouncing as she learned against the opened doorway. “I don’t know if you noticed, but we’re missing a shipment of soy and coconut milk.”

The barista’s smile faded as he turned and met with the girl. “Are you kiddin’ me?” he asked, then promptly returned to Toki and, with a slightly strained smile, said, “Sorry, man. One second.”

Toki nervously fiddled with his hands as he accidentally listened in on the conversation, catching on the older man’s growing frustration, and the woman’s insistences that it wasn’t her fault, that he should have a word with the blond with the glasses, that this always happens when she takes a day off from work. Suddenly, the question seemed stupid. Suddenly, Toki realized he was about to ask a stranger something rather personal. An agreement that the barista ultimately partook in, but a sacred act that was still rather private. And what if the barista refused to share the name, or the female worker thought he was weird for asking? Was it weird to be asking in the first place?

The barista abruptly returned. “I’m sorry. Do you mind wait–”

Caught in the moment, and terrified of having nothing to say, Toki’s eyes settled on the older man’s rolled-up sleeves, and he frantically blurted, “I just wants to tells you I likes your tattoos. Really ams a cool sleeves. Well, goodnights.”

He about-faced before either worker could react to his rushed fray of words and slipped back into his seat, burying his face with a beanie as he inwardly swore at how terrible that went. There was a good chance he'd have to avoid visiting the café side of the store come next week, and quite possibly after that. Maybe for the rest of his life.

Toki slumped, rested his head on top of the table, and stared dejectedly at the cup. After a few minutes, he lifted his stare, catching the bright shimmer of the Christmas decorations slowly encroaching on the industrialized setting of the café.

It would be so nice to know who his admirer was before Christmas, he thought.

…

The following week Toki spent all day at work, doing his and picking up Murderface’s shift (the man complained of an upset stomach, though Toki had his doubts), and after a long day, dragged his heavy instrument down the nearly hour-long route of bus rides, only to have Pickles greet him at the front doors of their rented space to let him know that rehearsal was cancelled. Nathan’s dad suffered some minor injury, but the event left their singer so shaken that he departed early to visit his family. Skwisgaar called the house earlier, but Pickles had an inkling Murderface would be too lazy to call and update Toki on the news, and as such, waited here to drop him back off at his place.

After pulling two shifts, Toki welcomed the ride, stowed his guitar in the back, and reclined his seat as far back as he could, then rested on his side. Pickles jokingly warned him to sit his ass up while they passed through the gentrified part of the neighborhood, lest a cop pull them over. Once he did, Toki spotted the café and secondhand bookstore.

The light at the intersection turned red, and as Toki stared inside the shop, became painfully aware of how close the holidays were, and how badly he wanted to know who it was who was buying him drinks. Toki glanced at the red light. If he drove off with Pickles now, that unknown admirer would leave behind a gift that no one would drink. The thought left Toki uneasy, filling with a funny guilt that made little sense. It wasn’t as though he could prove his secret admirer was even around when he arrived…though, the longer he thought about it, the less that made sense as well.

The light turned green, and right as Pickles hit the gas, Toki fumbled in his seat, and requested that Pickles drop him off here and please take his guitar home for him.

“Ya sure about this?” Pickles asked a final time before reaching across his seat to shut the passenger door. “S’ gonna be real cold tonight.”

“Ams sure,” Toki said, smiling through chattering teeth at the already rapidly declining temperature. He rubbed his cold palms together, feeling the wrinkled twenty that Pickles so graciously provided him once Toki explained his story, and forced a still grin upon his taut, shivering face. “Thanks for helpins, Pickle.”

“No prob, dood,” the older man replied. “Do me a favor? They don’t show up by half-past eight, give me a call. I’ll take ya to a bar n’ we can drink through this.”

“Okays.”

Pickles revved the engine. “Don’t wait too long, Toki.”

“I won'ts,” Toki replied through shudders, but knew it would be at least three hours before he could fully determine who was buying him the drinks.

Toki managed the first hour well enough, visiting various nearby stores and distracting himself as best he could, but found himself leaving after only a few short minutes, constantly drawn to the used bookstore and café. By the second hour, it was getting uncomfortably snappish, and Toki could see each miserable exhale, and felt the sting of every other inhale. Knowing the risks, he huddled near the bookstore, waited for a group to enter, and joined them and entered through the bookstore half of the shop.

He hid amongst the puzzles and board games, which proved to do a better job at keeping his mind off the inevitable as he read through summaries, rules and guidebooks. Once it neared eight, and Toki knew his drink would be placed around that time, he edged closer, covering a portion of his face with a scarf, and his forehead with his beanie, hoping that it would be enough to obscure his identity as he peeked around a display of recycled bookmarks, gift cards and keychains and stared into the café portion of the store.

By now, the familiar rock music that lulled in the background was gone and replaced with slightly muted holiday melodies filled with the jingle of bells. Though he’d sequestered himself in the store for an hour, the sight of his empty table made him shiver. He checked the time with his phone, saw he had about fifteen minutes left before the estimated time of ordering, and backed himself into a row of classical science fiction.

He maneuvered through some rows, shifting his position and checking the table from another vantage point. He caught the female barista on her phone, checking a text while the line was empty. Toki waited a bit longer, picking up this year’s best sellers and pretending to show interest, when he overheard the male barista call for his partner to man the register.

Toki lifted his stare, saw the clock on the wall, and realized this was just about the right time for the order to be made. About this time, Nathan would normally tell everyone he was done for the night, and Toki would take his ten-minute walk over here and enjoy his surprise drink.

“Still just a heart, Hammersmith?”

“Whatever. Just ring it up for me.”

Toki lowered the magazine further as he watched the male barista mark up a cup and attend to his work. The girl snickered, leaned across the countertop and tapped her fingernails against the register to charge the man for his drink.

“Y’know, this would be a lot easier if you wrote your number,” she said, paying no mind as the older man cast her a roll of the eye before returning to the drink. “Or, better yet: you can just hand him the drink and tell him you’re interested.”

“Customers,” the man stiffly replied, and the younger of the two shook her head, faced the front, and greeted the two older women making their way towards the front counter.

Toki’s heart suddenly jumped into his throat as he caught the older man turning, reaching beneath the counter and grabbing a container of whipped cream for his newly finished drink. His interest grew as he focused in on the man, watching thin lips form an even finer line as he covered the top of the drink with a nice, bounteous amount of whipped cream. As he grabbed a small shaker filled with sprinkles, Toki fumbled. His heart trembled, remembering how gently the man had knocked on his table last week. Toki had assumed his smile and polite manner were nothing more than a nice way of trying to coax a customer out of a closing store. He didn’t consider how confused the older man had been when Toki suddenly left, and how apologetic he’d been last Thursday when his coworker called him aside.

Toki gave one final, distanced glance at the older man as he covered the lid to his drink, walked around the counter and carried it all the way to Toki’s specified table. As the man hovered over it, readjusted its placement so it was more aligned on the center, Toki fixated on the older man’s hair, lush and tied in a bun, and the right of his arm that lacked the same amount of ink as the left, but possessed a few decorative rings that took to Toki’s fancy. He saw the man’s weary, but fretful smile as he backed from the table, returned to the counter where his coworker signaled one final “really?” before replacing her sarcastic gleam with amore controlled appearance.

The drink rested upon the table. Toki swallowed, then shoved his hand deep into his jacket’s pocket. The wrinkled twenty crinkled in his shaking, sweating hands.

Without a care of how it might look, Toki left the aisle and walked straight into the café. The older man didn’t notice, but the woman sure did, and once her forest-green eyes set upon and read the determination in Toki’s eyes, stepped aside and vanished into the back of the store.

Toki knocked on the counter. “Hellos?”

“Abby, customer–” The man glanced over his lanky shoulder, spotted Toki at the counter, and stopped himself from saying more. He quickly removed himself from the sink, then greeted Toki with a charming, albeit less prepared, grin.

“Heys,” Toki said, smiling warmly at the man. His eyes dropped to the nametag situated on the man’s apron. “Magnus?”

The man lifted his head at the sound of his name. “What can I do for you, man?”

“Wants to order something nice,” Toki answered, English slipping and turning messy near the end as he yanked the twenty from his pocket. “Whats do you recommends?”

Magnus turned slightly, eyes shifting passed Toki to the drink he’d just made him.

“Oh, donts worry about that,” Toki replied before Magnus could say a word. “Ams not gonna wastes a free drinks!” If he could say a word. Toki figured the man, despite his rough contours and cool appearance, was as shy as he figured his secret admirer to be. If his position didn’t force him to remain quiet, the fear of public rejection most certainly would.

“Well…” the man cupped his large hands together, “We have a hot cider that’s pretty popular. A gingerbread flavored latte.”

“Which ones you likes the best?”

“The cider is nice,” Magnus answered calmly. “Especially on a cold night like this one. It’s not as sweet, though.”

“Sounds good. Gets me a mediums, please.” Toki watched as the man ringed up the price of the drink. He glanced at the dessert display and chewed in inner cheek. “What’s about snacks? Anythinks you likes?”

Magnus shrugged. “Cider goes well with the gingerbread stuff.”

“Ams the bread good?”

“It’s nice, yeah.”

Toki went ahead and ordered both the bread and gingerbread man and, upon Magnus’ suggestion, asked for the bread to be warmed before paying for his additional drink and snacks.

“Can I have a name for this order?” Magnus asked. His expression gave nothing away. Toki couldn’t tell if he was eager to learn his name, or dreading to hear it.

“Toki,” he answered back, and when Magnus joked and asked if Toki was going to share those treats or hoard them for himself for the night, Toki ignored him, just smiled and told him to please keep the change before heading off to the restroom to supply himself some insulin.

He hurried out a few minutes later, head still spinning from the interaction, but found his table as it normally was, empty and bearing the single cup. Toki rushed to it, took his seat and grabbed the warm cup into his anxious hands. He brought it close to him, but refrained from taking a sip, and instead patiently waited for his name to be called so he could pick up his new order. He fished through his pockets, pulled out a pen, and snatched up a nearby napkin from another table and hurriedly began scribbling his number across the slightly stained paper. He drew back, observed it, and frowned.

“Hey.”

Toki carefully folded the napkin and stowed it into his pocket. He looked up at Magnus holding two bags in one hand, the drink in his other.

“Oh, you didn’ts have to carries all of thats for me,” Toki said with a mild gasp.

“It’s no problem, man,” Magnus replied. He offered the morsels to Toki. After a short thanks from Toki, Magnus stepped back, but didn’t leave. Instead, he lingered near the table, eyes resting on the drink he had made some several minutes ago. “You sure you don’t want me to toss that?”

“Nopes, that ams for me to drinks,” Toki answered. He glanced down at his recently purchased meal and, without looking up, added, “this ams for somebody else. Someones specials.”

“Oh?” Magnus broke into a sly chuckle. “Lucky you.”

“Yeah,” Toki said aloud, feeling relieved right when he had said it. He glanced up at Magnus, catching the slight hurt in the older man’s good eye, and after a quick inhale, said with a slight stutter, “it ams for you.”

“What?”

Magnus’ voice was terribly soft. His expression yielded to whatever whims he had held within him for so long, and Toki saw the comment had caught him so off guard that he almost looked like he might run away at any moment. Though equally as nervous, Toki swallowed away any fear he had in him, and grinned at Magnus.

“I saws you makins this drinks for me,” he explained through slightly chattering teeth. God, he was nervous. He was probably just as terrified as Magnus was, but unlike the older man standing before him, hands fumbling and tugging his apron ins desperate please to keep busy an in control, Toki knew exactly what he was going to say now. “Thanks you for getting me drinks after rehearsals.”

Magnus played with his ponytail. “Ah, well…it’s no biggie.”

Blushing, Toki added. “Was hopin’ I could surprise you with a drinks, too?”

That soothed the nerves. Magnus dropped his arm, face darkening as his head sunk with the shaking appendage, but lifted after a quick exhale and exposed the flattery hidden underneath. “I appreciate that…Toki.”

Now cupping his drink, Toki asked. “When does you get offs work?”

“Not till half-past ten,” Magnus confessed with a low, but pleasing voice that Toki was sure he wouldn’t mind hearing more often. He watched Magnus check the clock, frowning. “You, uh, sure–”

“I can waits!” Toki announced with a hearty beam.

He grinned wide, watching and holding in a chuckle when Magnus took another step back, hands pressing against the back of his head as he fought to control the rising excitement building in him. Toki caught a glimpse of some additional tats he overlooked before, noticed the red gemstone glimmering as Magnus brought his hands down, and wondered more about the man who’d taken a liking to him since he had started visiting the store.

“Beens waitinks for a whiles to haves a friendly chats with yous,” Toki said, resting his blushing face into his palms. “What ams few minutes more?”

Magnus smiled back at him. “Sounds like a plan.”

#magtok #hammertooth #magnus hammersmith #toki wartooth #coffee shop #AU #ficlet ask thing #thank you #totally not betaed #or edited #but I'll fix it and publish later

43 notes · View notes

vdragon-creations · 3 years

Text

More Danganronpa Headcanons!

Why? Because I can! And I have to wait for a Commissioner to get back to me about a WIP I just sent!

I Think I’m gunna try my hands at making some Headcanons for Mondo, Ishimaru, Leon, Kazuichi, and Kiibo this time a round! Just cause I wanna try and explore new characters. (And totally not because I fell hard for a certain Robo Boi! WHAAAAAAAT! YOU CRAZY GURL!) I’m still loyal to my man Yasuhiro! But I gotta spred the love! Cause these boi’s need it! Also, wanna mention that these are more like...Non-Killing Game AU Headcanaons. So yeah! ^^

Let’s do this!

Mondo:

Is a Semi decent carpenter, but there was that one time he fucked up the legs on a chair, and now one of Asahina’s shorts has a rip in it where there was a stray nail sticking out.

She wont let him live that down. And neither will Sakura.

Get’s pretty embarrassed/pissed off if someone touches his neck! The dude’s jacket practically covers that entire part of his body, so he’s not used to feeling anything touch him there!

He once let out a girlish scream when Leon poked him there once to wake him up during class! The rest of them are surprised Leon wasn’t killed right then and there.

Once he participated in a little competition between the classes to see who was the arm wrestling champ. He got pretty far till he had to go up against Gonta. He lost by a landslide, but he felt better loosing to a dude like him at least.

Totally escorts any female classmate or student home on his bike if they ask, or he sees some creep hanging around them.

He does get embarrassed about it though, and ends up yelling at them. This results in one of three things.

The girl runs away!

The girl just politely declines, and walks away kinda creeped out!

Or a mix of all, with the addition of the dude sees this, and get’s spooked himself, and fucks off

Ishimaru:

Has a bit of a panic attack and dies inside if he sees someone leaving the men’s restroom without washing their hands!

Carries scented hand sanitizers with him! At all times! No matter what! And must offer some to every single one of his classmates!

Once he tripped in the halls while chasing after another rule breaker, and had to be carried to the nurse’s office. Now that alone wouldn’t have been a bad thing, except Sakura was the one who did it, and she carried him bridle style, much to his dismay.

Mondo and Leon teased him about that one for months.

During Christmas, he’ll start screeching about PDA anytime he sees a Mistletoe, or people under it who are about to kiss!

But will ultimately be the first one forced to stand underneath it by is classmates.

Stays behind after school hours to either clean, or poke his head into every class room to see if the teachers need help with anything.

He’s totally that guy who during the Gym Class or Sports festival, is bitching about how short the girls shorts are, but not realize he’s staring. There by making HIM the creep!

Leon of all people was the one to point this out to him, only adding to the shame.

Leon:

It’s not hard for him to start catching feelings for basically any girl meets.

Totally has an Instagram where he posts shirtless pics! He’s pretty popular thanks to that, and his Baseball Skills.

Purposely taught himself English so he could flirt with some of the American and British chicks who visit his profile and leave comments.

He’s pretty used to going from girl to girl, so it’s safe to assume he’s used to getting dunked on by the girls he’s dumped. Getting called a pig, dirty looks, even some of them going so far as to pour their drinks on them at lunch. This he can handle!

Wanted so badly to start a band with Sayaka, Ibuki, Kaede, and Kazuichi! (Probably due to the punk look Soda always puts on!) But he was promptly let down by all of them! Cause Ibuki had her own shit to deal with, Kazuichi because he had no experience with music (at least any good ones, Stay tuned for that! ;3), Sayaka cause she’s already part of a group, and Kaede because punk wasn’t exactly her thing.

But what really stresses him out is when one of his Exes just.....doesn’t really seem to care! It feels so outta place to him, and it actually makes him pretty paranoid. Wondering if their plotting for revenge or some shit! So he’ll spend days after breaking up with a girl like this, just kinda....being a little bitch! XD

Secretly, I’m pretty sure they all turned him down because they thought he was coming on to them to a degree.

Kazuichi:

Is a lot like Yasuhiro, he doesn’t like birds, but not because he thinks they work for the government. It’s because he doesn’t like most animals, they remind him of Gundham.

Miu makes him HIGHLY uncomfortable! Sure, she’s hot and stuff, but she’s a whole other level of fuckery that he wants no part of! She’s banned from entering his workshop, and so Kiibo is usually the one who comes in to grab something if Miu needs it. He completely get’s Kazuichi feeling put off by Miu.

However, Kazuichi is still pretty insistent on asking Kiibo if he can take him apart every time he comes to get something for Miu. Making the poor robot very uncomfortable!

He’s pretty jealous that Miu get’s to play with the Robot and he doesn’t. Get’s kinda salty about it.

Teruteru once gave him the idea that he should try to serenade Sonia. And so he did! Or at least he tried to. He got over the fence to the girls dorms, ripping his clothes in the prosses. Then when he got to the window (he thought was) of Sonia’s room, he threw a rock that was a bit too big at it, cracking the window and scaring the girl in the room! Waking up the whole dorms and he booked it out of there!

He attempted this one more time, and was better prepared. But Sonia opened her window to see a Kazuichi dressed in a Ghillie Suit and wearing an army helmet holding a guitar! When he started to sing and play, it was now obvious why Ibuki refuses to let him sing along with any of her music!

A girl from a neighboring room called the campus security to repot a strange dude outside the Girls dorms, while another one poked her head out of her window and began to throw things at him.

He left soon after, but was caught by security and reprimanded. Now he refuses to listen to Teruteru has to say about anything.

Kiibo:

Often get’s bossed around by Mui to get her things. He finds it rather degrading, but when she’s not being bossy, she’s helpful to him. So he puts up with it, as a way of saying thanks.

One of these tasks he’s asked to do a lot is going over to Kazuichi’s Workshop to barrow tools and such. He hates doing it though, since Kazuichi is always wanting to take him apart. So he does his best to make these visits quick!

Miu gave him the ability to remove some of his heavy armor so he can wear clothing like normal. Surprisingly, This was his idea! He wanted to be able to enjoy the comforts of soft fabrics like most humans. And it would help him blend in a bit better.

Gonta and him get along very well! Mainly due to both of them having a hard time understanding things like sarcasm, harsher jokes, and certain social cues. This usually leads to them both learning at the same time when they hang out!

Miu is his wingman, weather he knows it or not! She’s always wanting to add new functions to him to make him more appealing. One of these is a thin velvet like coating on his armor that’s meant to make his metal less harsh on the skin if you touch him.

Another one of these features is a type of diffuser at the top of his skull under his hair! It releases a pleasant scent into his hair, similar to pheromones. The scent changes based on Kiibo’s emotions.

Kokichi likes to openly mock Kiibo in front of new people. Like a lot!

Kiibo actually releases steam when he get’s too Angry or Embarrassed, but this is really rare.

Get’s really curious about Occult, Paranormal, or Religious things. Sure, he finds some of it to be very silly, but he can’t help but wonder why some humans like those things!

Some holiday traditions he finds weird too, and in some cases, a bit Robophobic. Like giving candy or sweets out on Valentines Day, when....well, he can’t fucking eat it! So he feels excluded in times like that.

He’s really confused about most PDA! Especially kissing! So humans just like...put their mouths together? And that’s like....supposed to mean deep affection? What’s so great about swapping fluids like that? Couldn’t they get sick? QUESTIONS! ANSWERS! HE MUST HAVE THEM!

His Ahoge doesn’t just change shape and move to show emotion, but it also tends to point in the direction that he’s attention is drawn too. Even when he’s trying to pretend he’s not looking at something! His hair is a dead give away!

Has a built in “Cellphone” in his head. Miu added it so it would be easier to contact him if needed.

Everyone in his class has his number, except Kokichi! And it will stay that way!

.......Until Gonta gave it to him by being tricked into doing it!

And now he has a small panic attack every time his “Cellphone” rings. Praying to all that is good that he doesn’t hear “HEY KIIBOOOOOOOY!~<3″ on the other end!

#headcanon #danaganronpav3 #Danaganronpa Kiibo #danaganronpa #danaganronpa2 #Danaganronpa None-Killing Game AU #danaganronpa leon #danaganronpa mondo #danaganronpa ishimaru #danaganronpa kazuichi #kiyotaka ishimaru #leon kuwata #mondo oowada #kazuichi souda #Kiibo #keebo #K1-B0

48 notes · View notes

shekissesturians · 4 years

Text

Animes Watched Since Quarentine Started ~

So I just sat down and realized... I have developed a problem X’D BUT it could be worse! So I figured I would share for those looking for something new to watch! Also, what have y’all been watching!?

Full list below the line + reviews! * No spoilers, I promise! I wouldn’t do you dirty like that! * ;-*

1. Kakegurui

This show took me by surprise, I had no idea gambling could be so thrilling! Plus let us take a moment to appreciate the facial expressions animated in this show! Beautiful, just beautiful. Beware though, this anime gets dark, and sick, and you will definitely forget to breath at times. It is a thorough joy.

2. Steins;Gate

3. Steins;Gate 0

Honestly, Steins;Gate + Stains; Gate 0 is one of the best animes I have EVER seen. Legit. Also, It is one of the best stories of time travel I have ever encountered. The way it is explained in the anime is brilliant! Compelling, thrilling, emotional, so much amazingness. I watched in chronological order instead of season order which I really enjoyed. Also one of the most moving anime endings I have seen. All the characters you will fall in love with, and their character development is one heck of a ride. A must watch, 100%.

4. Fullmetal Alchemist

This was a nostalgia back flash for me! It was been years and I felt like reliving it all over again. Which I am glad I did, cus boy was there a lot of heavy themes and topics I did not pick up on when I was younger! One of the biggest themes was this existential undertone throughout the whole show that explored the ideas of humanity, authority, morality and race.

5. Fullmetal Alchemist Conqueror of Shamballa

A must follow up to the original FMA series. It just ties the whole story up in a pretty bow. I remember when I first saw this movie, it was my first encounter this the idea of multiple dimensions and it just blew my mind. The whole this felt so exciting and surreal, and I loved the addition of our timeline playing a part. Watching FMA + Movie over again leaves me a bit torn on which is better, Brotherhood or first adaptation. I think both should be watched for a full understanding of the lore. The first anime series definitely has some holes and details missing, but it’s also so nostalgic and they really give you a better development of characters and feels than Brotherhood does, as they rush through that to get back to the main plot.... so grab some popcorn and watch both and just enjoy the ride :)

6. Angels of Death

This anime has such a unique premise!! And morally it is just all sorts of twisted, which I love! The music is fantastic in it and all the characters you encounter are very unique and fun... it’s dark though, don’t get me wrong.. and twisted. BUT a fun ride if you are down for that kind of adventure!

7. Another

WHOOOO BUDDY! If you want to go on a journey THIS IS ONE! It’s a mind bending premise and each episode ends in so much suspense. I literally could’ve watched the whole thing in one day. This anime is like a jar of Pringles, once you start you just can’t stop!

8. Death Parade

This anime gets the prize for the most misleading opening ever! X’D But it is such a BOP Please watch if you can. The anime overall is a joy, its very thought provoking and touches on the darker topics of death and mortality. Who is really good? Who is evil? Where do they seamlessly blend into each other? Besides the premise being so unique and tantalizing, the artwork is breathtaking! The background and environments the characters exist in are gorgeous. As an artist and a writer, I appreciate this anime on so many levels.

9. Sekkou Boys

Oh god, this anime is a joy. Just pure, clean joy T.T The episode are VERY short so you could finish the whole thing in an evening. But if you are an artist, a Renaissance history lover, or a J-pop fan, you will especially appreciate this joy of a creation. Watch it for your soul, you will feel better afterwards.

10. Kokoro Connect

This is a very intriguing coming of age story to say the least. There is an element of fantasy/science fiction that comes into the picture that stirs all sorts of trouble for our dear group of friends. It makes you really reflect your own intra- and interpersonal relationships and how we perceive and interact with one another. Overall a fun trip to go on.

11. Occultic; Nine

HOLD ONTO YOUR HORSES CUS THIS ANIME IS FAST! Omgsh, if you watch in Japanese like I did, get ready to have tired eyes cus the pace and speech of this anime is like nothing I have encountered before, but it is soooo much fun! It is mystery combined with the supernatural. It’s one of those animes where there is a lot of characters involved and some how everyone is connected in some way, like Baccano! if you have seen it. I would say to watch this AFTER you watch Steins;Gate if you have any interests because it is written by the same writers and there is little things that reference back to Steins;Gate which are really fun to pick up on.

12. School-Live!

I didn’t know what to expect when I started this series. It is not the kind of art style I am normally drawn towards but I am soo glad I watched. The characters are all really fun and cute! Especially the puppy!! <3 You deal with psychological stress as well as a nice mix of slice of life all in the midst of a zombie apocalypse! It’s a combination I never knew I wanted in my life, but now I am glad I have it. Don’t let the cute animation style fool you... it gets DARK. I was full out trying not to sob at one point, but I think that just shows how many levels are involved in this story. Have fun with this ride my friends <3

13. My Hero Academia

GUYS ARE YOU FREAKING READY!? This was the story I never knew I needed in my life, but now I don’t know how I lived without it. Dear god, I binged this one so hard I think I forgot to breath for a week. All of the characters are so dynamic and the overall tone of the series is so uplifting and positive. If you are in a depressive slump just turn this one on. I promise you, you will be smiling and feeling better in no time! It is so motivational as well. Humor, action, suspense, thrilling, emotional- I don’t think there is anything they don’t touch on. Uhg gosh, I could prob write a dissertation on all the themes and undertones expressed in this work. I promise you, this is a journey you will not regret taking <3

14. My Hero Academia: Two Heroes

I’ll be honest, I think sometimes series’ movies miss the mark, or just feel lackluster, like a power hour of filler. This one my friends.... DID NOT. I was really glad I watched it too, because I felt as though it added so much to the main story line. Plus you get to see college years All Might... so bonus! X3 But seriously, it is a very fun movie and it gives you more background to the world you wouldn’t otherwise get.

15. Shiki

First off... THE ART. This anime’s art is so unique and fits so well into the overall narrative. But honestly, I feel like this anime is a work of art, it feels like an old folk tale/dark fairy tale you would elders talking about in a pub late at night. The narrative never went where I expected it to, and by the end I was so morally conflicted I didn’t know what to do with myself. It’s a dark fantasy that really explores all the little nitty gritty grey areas that are often passed over in stories. There were definitely a few scenes that made me so uncomfortable I was squirming. Human nature is truly a sight to behold, and this anime shows it to you.

16. Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress

The Feudal Japan- Post apocalyptic- Steam punk journey you never knew existed! Gosh this anime is amazing. First off the art is breathtaking and many scenes reminded me of Miyazaki. Second, the music is SO GOOD. It’s a concept on the undead that I find to be very unique and truly thrilling. Most of the anime takes place on a train which is such an intriguing element. You also go into human fear of the unknown and how our nature can truly be our biggest hindrance. The characters are great and you get to the point of really rooting for them. Get ready for this feast for your senses!

17. Kabaneri of the Iron Fortress Movie: Battle of Unato

After watching the series I felt like my heart was still missing something. Honestly the whole thing felt like it went by too fast. I still wanted more! This movie helped fill the void in my heart. You get to see relationship begin to form between characters as well as more insight into kabane and all their abilities. Standing alone, this movie is a really fun adventure and gives more insight into the state Japan is in overall.

So THERE YOU HAVE IT! I hope you might have found some new things to watch. I would love to see others lists of things they have watched, feel free to leave in the comments! Or if you have watched any of these, I would love to hear your thoughts! Let’s chat <3

41 notes · View notes

fairie-gothmother · 3 years

Text

In The Shadow of Starlight, Part 7: Bandit Lyfe

First Part: The Fall

Previous Part: Gut Instincts

Troy groaned in pain and anger. If every return trip from Sanctuary was going to involve being jammed into a drop pod, they’d better be few and far between. He cursed Lilith for not allowing him to sync with their New-U stations. Immediately after landing at the Crimson Raider base, the old Lieutenant ordered Troy to stay in his room, which had further soured his mood.

Troy was restless, irritated and still buzzing with energy. He flopped onto the bed, closed his eyes, and attempted to get a grip on himself.

Knock knock.

“What?” Troy snapped.

A gravelly voice called, “I had a feeling that was you in the drop pod.” Raz slipped inside the room. After taking one look at Troy sprawled out on bed, he added, “You look like hell.”

“You’re lucky I’m too sore to get up and strangle you,” Troy threatened half-heartedly, rubbing his aching neck.

"I take it you didn't have much luck with the scientist," Raz guessed.

The Calypso sighed. "Nope. Managed to get a little extra gas in my tank, though. Long story," Troy indicated by waving his glowing hand before placing it over his eyes.

“Well, now. I’d say that’s cause for celebration. How about I offer you a drink to lift your spirits?”

“Aren’t you on probation?” Troy asked.

“Technically, yes. But what the higher ups don't know won’t hurt ‘em. Or would you rather be a good little Crimson Raider and stay put?” Raz winked and beckoned toward the door.

In response, Troy threw a pillow past Raz’s head hard enough for it to burst into a puff of feathers.

Raz pulled a feather from his beard. “Hmph. Not even Octavia needed this much convincing. Suit yourself.” With a shrug, he turned to leave.

Troy lowered the second pillow he was about to chuck at his ex-general. “And you left her alone with drunk bandits?” The Calypso jumped up from the bed. He hadn’t taken two steps before he caught the suspicious looks Raz shot at him. Troy wasn’t in the mood. “Alright, you win. I need to blow off some steam anyway.” He shouldered past the shorter man, and they both made their way across the compound.

~~~

Octavia accepted the bottle of rakk ale Raz offered. “Music and booze? Did you happen to organize something that Lieutenant Cramer wouldn’t approve of?”

“Cramer isn’t invited.” Raz opened his own bottle of ale and clinked it against hers. “Welcome to your first bandit bash.”

The ex-bandit recruits had managed to transform the small lot behind the Crimson Raider compound into a convincing outdoor pub. They handed out drinks and gathered around a bonfire while a radio played upbeat rock music.

Even Troy had joined in on the event. Octavia hadn’t seen him since he passed out in the medical room, which had been tense and awkward. She ran her gaze over him, careful not to linger long enough to be caught staring. He had his swagger back, siren marks glowing brightly. Once everyone was confident that he wasn’t going to slaughter them, Troy became the life of the party. He was a god among bandits, after all.

Octavia wasn’t sure what she expected, but hanging with bandits was enjoyable. The burn of alcohol in the back of her throat was odd so early in the afternoon, even for a day off, but it was a welcome sensation. Her stress was melting away, emboldening her to let loose a bit. Today was just about having fun. And dammit, she deserved it.

As the day went on, Octavia had consumed enough liquid courage to unglue herself from Raz’s side. One of the younger bandit guys sat next to her at the bar. After some easy conversation and exchanging names, he declared her his new friend. She had unfairly stereotyped him as another blood thirsty idiot. He wasn’t particularly bright, but Octavia was warming up to him.

“And that’s why I don’t like stalkers. Those invisible assholes give me the creeps,” he said, slicking back his ash blonde hair.

Octavia swiveled in her chair to face him, bumping her knees against his in the close space. “So let me get this straight. You don’t think stalkers have tails, but instead have really long-”

“Of course! What else do you think that thing is for?”

“I think it’s just a tail, Collin,” Octavia laughed.

Collin opened his mouth to argue further but was interrupted by a familiar gravelly voice.

“Harassing the new girl already?” Raz had reappeared casually smoking at the bar beside them.

Collin greeted him. “Did you know Octavia is gonna be working in the greenhouse? She-” Collin’s eyes widened when he noticed who was approaching.

Troy Calypso glanced down at their knees touching with a slight raise of his eyebrows, making Octavia uncomfortable enough to scoot back. His mechanical arm reached across the bar to claim a bottle of liquor, then the Calypso turned back to the entourage following at his heels. Not staring was harder than it should have been. The way he relished in the spotlight with effortless charisma was mesmerizing.

“What do you think, Octavia?”

Collin’s question pulled her out of her daze, and her face reddened when she realized she’d zoned out on the question.

“Um, sorry. What?”

Collin repeated, “Do you think you could get me in the greenhouse? I’d kill to get out of the shop. I keep trying to convince the foreman to let me make weapon prototypes.”

Raz butted in. “Ha! The last time you presented one of your prototypes, it blew up in your face. Literally. You singed both your eyebrows.”

Collin sheepishly scratched the back of his neck. “Yeah.” Then he held up both hands. “But I managed to keep all my fingers.”

“Real cute, punk,” Raz said, flipping the younger man half of a bird.

Octavia couldn’t help but chuckle at their banter. “Wow. You have all your teeth and fingers? Not bad for a bandit.”

Collin flashed an exaggerated smile, displaying all of his pearly whites.

The radio music changed to a poppy dance song. Collin’s face lit up. “Ooh, I love this song!” He jumped up from his seat and extended his hand. “Dance with me.”

Octavia didn’t have time to decline before she was pulled from her chair into the group of bandits dancing around the fire. Even with a buzz, she was not willing to embarrass herself on the dance floor. Collin had moves that put her stiff shuffling to shame. She appreciated his help giving her little spins and twirls. She prayed she could fake it well enough to get through the song.

She glanced around the area to see how many people were watching her make a fool out of herself. Her eyes wandered to Troy, who was basking in the attention of several bandits. Her stomach fluttered when one of the women leaned in closely and whispered into his ear.

“I need another drink,” Octavia said to her dance partner.

~~~

This was how the Calypso twins spent most of their time in the early days of the Children of the Vault. Partying with their followers, dancing to whatever played on the radio, drinking cheap alcohol. The familiarity was comforting to Troy. The difference with today was the absence of his sister outshining him.

“I always did like you more than Tyreen,” crooned a female admirer into Troy’s ear.

“Bullshit. You were a total God Queen simp,” said another girl.

The first woman swatted at the other for calling her out. “You bitch, I only bought her merch because the color goes better with my eyes.”

The ex-God King flashed his golden fangs. “Ya know, that right there is considered false devotion. Do you know how I used to handle the falsely devoted?” he asked sweetly. When the woman shook her head, he placed two fingers of his siren hand beneath her chin and tilted her head to the side. “It meant you'd get your pretty little throat ripped out.”

The woman was so drunk that the threat went completely unrecognized. “Pretty?” she giggled.

Troy rolled his eyes as he released her. He took a swig from the bottle clenched in his mechanical fist. Although he missed having admirers, ones like this annoyed him. Even without his twin here, he still couldn't escape her shadow.

Troy slipped away from his entourage, snuck over to the bar, and told the man behind it to mix him a drink. Where was Raz? He wanted to give him shit for setting up a bar with no lime wedges. Looking toward the edge of the lot, he spotted Octavia sitting by the fence. A young, blonde pretty-boy was attempting to get her to her feet. She shook her head, and pretty-boy gave her a pat on the shoulder before returning to the fireside to dance. Troy ordered a second cocktail and walked over to her.

“You look thirsty,” Troy said, holding the drink out to her. “I’d say my treat, but open bar and all.”

Octavia looked up in surprise and took the cup with an appreciative smile. “I’d say thanks, but open bar and all.” She took a sip and wrinkled her nose. “What’s this?”

“Lemon Lime & Bullets. Minus the lime.” Troy threw his drink down in one gulp. He watched in amusement as Octavia fished out the bullet from her own cup with her finger.

“I see what you’re doing. You’re trying to get on my good side,” she said slyly.

“Hm, am I? I guess that depends. Is it working?” he asked with a cocky grin.

“Maybe a little,” she said, taking another sip of her now ammunition-less cocktail.

He sat on the ground beside her, rested his back against the chain link fence, and nodded toward the dancing silhouettes a short distance in front of them. “Let me guess. You don’t dance.”

“It’s not my thing,” she said.

“Aw, come on. Let me teach you some moves. Only slightly provocative ones, I promise.”

She smiled. “Tempting, but I’ll pass.”

Troy huffed, “Alright, fine. You’re no fun. If you don’t dance and you don’t even fit in with these people, what are you doing here?”

Octavia was visibly bothered by the comment. He realized how shitty that sounded and rushed to rephrase. “I mean, it’s cool you’re here. I just don’t get it. There’s a lot I don’t get about you, witchdoctor.” He ruffled her hair with his siren hand.

She pushed his hand away and smoothed her hair back into place. Troy swore he saw a hint of pink in her cheeks. “I’m not sure myself. I never come to these kinds of things, but I guess I thought it might be fun.”

“Well, are you having fun?”

She looked up to meet his eyes. “Yeah. I think I am.”

Maybe it was the alcohol or the extra energy in his body that was making his brain fuzzy, but in that moment Troy was certain what Octavia wanted. Anticipation hung in the air, along with the suspense that comes when someone flicks their eyes down to your lips and back. She tipped her head back, just enough to give him permission, and then-

A vibration from Troy’s pocket made him jump. “What the hell?” The Echo he’d nicked from Sanctuary nearly vibrated out of his pocket. There was a message.

//Unknown_User//: smile 4 the camera :)

The display automatically opened a live video feed showing a man and a woman sitting on the ground with their backs against a chain link fence. Troy recognized the back of his own head. Oh fuck.

“Boom time, heretics!” a voice shouted from behind.

Thinking fast, Troy grabbed Octavia and shielded her against the blast. The force from the explosion sent the two of them tumbling across the ground.

“Vi, you need to run.”

“B-but what-,” she squeaked.

“Now!” he ordered, and she took off toward the base.

The fence had been blown open. Bandits and psychos were pouring inside, firing guns and swinging buzzaxes. Cambots floated through the air above, recording the onslaught.

“Alright then, party crashers. Let's dance.” Troy opened his mechanical hand, and his sword digistructed into his palm. A smile spread impossibly wide across his face until the jaw split open at the modified hinges. The God King slashed through the crowd, decapitating and disemboweling. He roared, shredding throats open with his jaws. Psychos screamed as he crushed their skulls in his mechanical hand. The popping of bone, the squishing of flesh, the warmth of blood. So much red. It was a rush of euphoria.

A cambot hovered overhead focused on Troy. The Calypso snatched up a bandit by the neck. “You assholes weren't invited,” he growled, somewhat garbled through his open jaws.

The bandit choked, “Tyreen will protect me...The Reaping... shall purge-” The rest was lost as neck tendons stretched and snapped until the bandit’s head was ripped off. Troy flung the severed head at the cambot, sending it spinning through the air.

Alarms sounded from the Crimson Raider base. Soldiers emerged from the building and joined the fight against the invaders. Across the lot, Raz shot at multiple cultists who were retreating with a large metal cage. Troy sprinted over to him. “Raz, it’s the Reaping.”

“I know. The bloody bastards are taking prisoners,” Raz yelled, reloading his rifle.

More cages were being hauled outside the fence and loaded into COV vehicles. Troy gave chase, using the broad side of his blade to block the barrage of gunfire. He reached the nearest cage and slashed into the cultists. So much red. Troy pulled the door off the hinges and freed the Raider recruits inside. Another cage was nearby.

“Let me go!” cried out the voice of Octavia. Her hands swung at her captors from within the bars.

Troy made a run for it. His blood boiled. Every single one of these fuckers was going to die. Everything he saw was red. Red. With his blade raised, prepared to carve these cultists into pieces, he was blindsided with a sucker punch to the face. The blow made him stumble.

Double images swirled in Troy’s vision until he shook it off. Before him stood a familiar white haired siren, wiping away specks of his blood from her knuckles. “Well, this is annoying. I thought you’d be dead by now, but here you are chumming it up with the Crimson Traitors,” said Tyreen.

Troy’s jaws clicked shut so he could properly articulate. “Guess you’re just getting sloppy. The God Queen must be losing her touch,” he snarled and lunged at Tyreen. She easily dodged him with a sidestep, but Troy kept running past her. Octavia’s cage had been dragged outside of the fence. He could make it.

“Stop running, dear brother. Fight me!”

“What’s the matter, Ty? Can’t keep up?”

In a flash of fire, Tyreen teleported in front of him. Putting all his momentum behind it, the taller Calypso slammed his metal fist into the side of his twin’s head. Tyreen lost her footing and was thrown back several feet. Once again, he ran for the cage now being loaded into a COV vehicle. He could still make it. Troy was close enough to see the fear in those cultists’ eyes.

An electric pain hit Troy in the back, halting him in his tracks. It spread in a fiery trail through his entire body. He gasped, pulling air into his burning lungs. Still he continued moving forward, watching the world blur through his eyelashes.

“Do you actually care about what happens to a bunch of vault thief wannabes?” Tyreen asked, slowly approaching with purple sparks dancing around her fingertips.

Another shot of electricity ripped through his insides. Troy squeezed his eyes closed. He felt his fingernails dragging across the dirt, not remembering when he hit the ground. He forced one eye open to see the COV vehicles pulling off.

A sharp kick to Troy’s stomach lurched his guts, causing bile to rise in his throat. Tyreen grabbed a fistful of his black hair and lifted his head, forcing him to watch her follower’s vehicles speeding away. “You do care, don’t you? Which one is it, I wonder.” The siren signaled to a cambot overhead. It swooped down and displayed a projection before the two of them.

They were scenes of the party from earlier today. It cycled from the dancers around the bonfire to Troy surrounded by admirers to people laughing at the bar to… Troy involuntarily whimpered at the image.

“Jackpot,” Tyreen smiled wickedly. The projection showed Troy and Octavia, sitting on the ground together. “She is cute. Don’t worry, Troy. I’ll take good care of her.”

With more strength than someone her size should rightfully possess, Tyreen lifted her brother by the throat with one arm. Troy gagged and clawed at the fingers closing around his airways. Her blue siren marks pulsed as she activated her powers.

“Now, do me a favor and die this time.”

Troy struggled against the leech. His chest throbbed as his movements shifted the crystals forming inside it. He couldn’t fight, couldn’t scream. He felt his eyes water, and his arms went limp at his sides.

I wasn’t strong enough... I’m sorry.

~~~

“Eat shit, devil bitch!”

Lieutenant Cramer’s rocket hit the Calypsos, detonating into a plume of smoke and fire. Raz was concerned for Troy due to the size of the blast, but they were out of options, and Cramer was out of patience.

A hush fell over the field. The remaining Raiders and recruits had their sights focused on the smoke cloud, unable to see the twins inside it. Raz steadied his breath aiming down his rifle’s scope.

Suddenly, something came flying from the smoke and landed heavily on the ground in front of the Raiders. Raz’s heart sank when he noticed the lifeless form of Troy lying before him. His skin was grey and glistened with purple crystals. Raz had to resist the urge to run to him. The God Queen emerged from the dust, not showing an ounce of remorse.

“Ya know, it is too easy taking your stuff. I was hoping for something more than just a few sparks,” Tyreen brushed the dust from her jacket. “I’m starting to feel kinda bad for you, so I’ll leave you a participation trophy.” She pointed to her brother’s form in the dirt and laughed maniacally.

“Open fire!” commanded Cramer. The air erupted with thundering gunfire. The siren was too quick. She teleported out of sight in a flash of flames.

Raz rushed to the fallen Calypso, sliding on his knees. The light of his siren marks was dead, small crystals sprouted from his body in clusters. The bearded man put an ear to the cold skin of Troy’s bare chest. A heartbeat. The son of a bitch was still alive.

“He’s alive!” Raz yelled.

Cramer spoke into his Echo, “Base to Sanctuary. Commander Lilith, the damned devil bitch herself and her cultists attacked us. Many injured, more M.I.A. and Troy’s about to find out if the Great Vault exists because he’s a few breaths away from death.”

Raz could hear Lilith’s voice from where he still knelt by Troy’s side. “Damn! We’ll get them back, don’t worry. But we can’t afford to lose Troy now.” Lilith paused. “We don’t have any other choice. Give him blood.”

Raz looked the body up and down, then spoke up, “But he hasn’t lost much blood.”

“No.” Lilith sighed into the Echo, bracing herself for what she was about to say. “He needs to drink blood. Tannis thinks... There’s no time to explain. Just do it.”

No rest for the wicked. Eh, mate? Just hold on a little longer.

#troy calypso #borderlands 3 #redemption #fanfic #fanfiction #Troy #calypso #au #in the shadow of starlight

10 notes · View notes

calpalirwin · 4 years

Text

So F***in’ Deep

Summary: You watch Mike perform and hear that man go “So fuckin deep” and your mind starts racing.

A/N: Thought long and hard (heh, hey-o!) about letting this fic end at the first break. But then I didn’t because I know how antsy I get when I read fics that end right before the “good” stuff, even if it’s all good. Like it? Tell me. Hate it? Shove it! (JK, feel free to tell me that too. Constructive criticism is good for the soul. We learn more from our mistakes than our successes. Just don’t be rude about it, you know?)

Content: Sex. Cursing.

Word Count: Why do I keep adding this bit? 2,200-ish words.

And away, and away we go!

~~~

“So fuckin deep!” Mike practically moaned into the microphone, shooting you a wink, making the crowd lose their minds.

You laughed from where you were watching, shaking your head at him. It didn’t matter how many times you watched him perform, that little grin and head tilt of his would take your breath away every damn time. And that particular ad-lib mixed with the moan, well, it made you weak in the knees to say the least.

“You have fun, Mikey?” you asked him once you got backstage.

He nodded happily, his green eyes dancing brilliantly, sweat dripping from his forehead.

“Do you want to shower?”

He nodded again.

“Adrenaline making you speechless again?” you smiled up at him. Post-show was the only way Mike was ever quiet, the adrenaline pumping through him making him too excited to do much besides vibrate with energy.

“Do you want to me shower with you? Or do you want to relax by yourself?”

He answered by taking your hand and dragging you towards the bathrooms.

“Girl entering!” you announced, covering your eyes with a hand, trusting Mike to lead you.

“Aw, c’mon! Can’t a dude shower in peace?” Ashton called out through the steam.

“They’re individual stalls!” you laughed. “Just wrap yourself before you step out.”

“I’m not worried about us seeing each other nude, Y/N. I just don’t wanna hear you fuck my little brother!” Ashton laughed back.

“You peek, and I kick your ass,” Mike finally spoke, his racing heart calming down enough for him to find words.

“I won’t look at your girl on purpose,” Ashton assured him.

“Good. And that threat goes to you too, Cake!” Mike said to the benefit of the other men in their stalls.

“Won’t be able to, mate,” Luke’s voice sounded. “Sierra will kill me before you get the chance.”

“Damn straight!” Sierra’s voice sounded. “Y/N, you’re gorgeous, baby!”

“You are too!” you called out.

“1 shower! 1 shower without the sex!” Calum complained.

“We’re not having sex!” you and Sierra yelled back.

“Can I peek if you do?” Luke asked playfully. “Whoa, alright!” he laughed as Sierra probably pushed him and he slipped.

“Maybe a little sex?” Mike asked you in a whisper, pulling you into a stall. “Me and you, not you and Si. Although...”

“Maybe,” you smirked. “To you and me.”

His heart started racing again as he went to fetch some towels and you got the shower going the right temperature- a notch below skin-searing.

You were enjoying the spray when the door opened as you heard Mike shuffling out of his clothes before his chest pressed up against your back, arms wrapping around you. “You were awesome out there, Mikey,” you said, turning in his arms, feeling the spray pound on your hair. You rubbed at your eyes as the water flew in your face.

Mike chuckled and turned, taking the brunt of the spray, his hands brushing the water from your face. “Thanks baby.”

“You okay?” you asked, reaching up to touch his face. “You seem quieter than normal.”

He smiled at you. “Yeah, baby. I’ve just missed you.”

You smiled back. Getting a chance to be with him on tour was a rare occurrence, and this tour was already two months in before you got the chance to fly out to join him. “Just checking. Can’t have you getting sick on us. And I’ve missed you, too.”

“Not sick. Just happy.”

“You’re loud when you’re happy, Mikey,” you told him.

“But, I did just get done performing, and I currently have you very naked and in my arms. You know how my adrenaline makes me too jittery to speak.”

“Yeah, about that performance,” you smirked.

“I was awesome, and I kicked ass. Yeah, I know,” he said with an eye roll. It was what you always said and he still never believed it.

“Cocky,” you laughed. “And true. But there’s something else,” you added.

“Mmm? And what’s that?”

“So fuckin deep?” you asked, raising an eyebrow. “With that little moan and head tilt? Mikey, you’re gonna murder your fanbase.”

“What fanbase?” he laughed. “Nobody’s a Mike girl these days. Ash and Cal are the ones dying their hair now, and Luke’s still the golden boy he always was. Mike girls have… what’s the phrase? Swerved into their lanes.” His tone was playful, but there was an underlying darkness to his words. He often felt insecure compared to his bandmates. In his eyes, he was the dorky nerd playing punk rock pretend.

“Keep doing that ‘so fuckin’ deep’ bit and the whole world will be Mike girls,” you assured him.

“Yeah? You think so?” he asked, his green eyes hopeful.

“I know so.”

His cheeks flushed. “Aw, baby.”

“Don’t get embarrassed. You, Michael Gordon Clifford, are hot. Devastatingly so.”

“Oh yeah?” he asked, his eyes darkening.

“Oh yeah,” you agreed, leaning up to kiss him. “So fuckin hot,” you murmured as you both deepened the kiss.

“Mmm,” he murmured back. “Gotta be quiet, princess,” he told you and you shivered. He only ever called you “princess” in very specific situations. You knew what was coming, the soft boyfriend flipping into rough dominance. “Can you do that for me?” His hands that held you to him started to wander, tracing a path over your hips and between your thighs.

You nodded, biting your lip as he pushed a finger in you.

He held you steady against him as his finger worked faster. When one finger wasn’t enough, he pushed in a second and you bit into his shoulder, a small moan escaping your lips anyway. “Quiet, princess, or I’ll make you quiet,” Mike tsked at you.

“Not in here, Mikey,” you breathed into his ear. Your knees got sore easily when he made you “be quiet” and you didn’t quite like the idea of your knees gouging into the tile floor of the shower.

His eyes softened the slightest bit at your words as he nodded. “Aw, does my princess wanna be loud for me?” his voice cooed in your ear, flipping back into the rough dominance.

“Yes, Mikey,” you whispered.

“You like when I make you quiet, don’t you, princess?”

“Mhm!” You were getting louder now, both with your responses and moans, as his fingers continued to work you over. “Close, Mikey,” you got out between panted breaths, feeling the knot in your stomach ready to come undone.

He spun you around so your back was to him, feeling him hard against your back. His free hand clapped over your mouth. “Cum for me, princess,” he coaxed, his thumb rubbing fast at your clit as his fingers pulled at your g-spot.

“Mikey!” you screamed around his hand, legs shaking.

“You’re so good for me, princess,” he praised, he fingers slowing down as you continued to shake.

“How is it that when you’re rough with me, you’re still gentle?” you asked, giggling slightly as your body relaxed from the high.

His eyes were soft again as he turned you back to face him, his face nuzzling into your neck to breathe you in. “It’s cuz I love you, baby. Don’t actually want to hurt you. And I can’t wear you out just yet.”

“Can you still make me be quiet, though?” you asked, your voice soft as you placed a kiss on his cheek.

“Only a little bit,” he compromised. “I’ve missed hearing you.”

“Well, let’s hurry this shower up then.”

~~~

“On your knees, princess,” he said, once the do not disturb card was on the hotel door.

You grinned wickedly at him and dropped to your knees on the pillow he had thoughtfully tossed to the floor. Your hands reached for his pants but he smacked you away. “Mikey,” you pouted.

“No hands, princess. I’m gonna fuck that pretty little mouth of yours.”

“Oh?” you asked, excitedly.

He dropped to his own knees, his hand grabbing your chin, his thumb tracing your lips. “Think you can handle that, princess?”

“Might wanna touch you, Mikey.”

“Might not have time for that,” he said, placing a sloppy kiss along your jaw before he stood up and dropped his pants and boxers.

Your hands reached out instinctively to stroke him, but his hands slapped yours away, harsher than the first time. “Mikey!” you pouted. “You’re not playing fair.”

“If you wanna touch something, touch yourself. All I want to feel right now is the back of your throat.”

“That’s deep,” you said, your eyes wide, as you pushed your own pants down.

“So fuckin deep,” he growled, before pushing his length into your mouth.

“Good, God,” you moaned around him.

“That’s not quiet, princess,” he tsked, as he started moving his hips back and forth, your tongue gliding across his cock.

“Do you care?” you asked, when he moved far enough out for you to speak somewhat clearly.

One of his hands grabbed at your chin, much rougher than he had previously, jerking your head up to look at him. “Right now? Yes.”

You gave a small nod of understanding and he released his grip. “Oh, and you better tell me before you cum,” he added with a pointed glance at your hand that was rubbing circles over your clit.

“Don’t I always?” you winked.

“Shut up,” he chuckled before he pushed his way back in your mouth.

His groans added with the fact you couldn’t touch him only worked you into more of a frenzy, your free hand moving your panties out of the way to give your working hand more access. You were grateful for Mike’s sex-crazed state that had him thrusting in and out of your mouth because it gave you more focus to attend to your own needs.

“Fuck, c’mere!” he growled, pulling out suddenly and jerking you to your feet.

“What are y- whoa!” you said as he pushed you backwards onto the bed. “Mikey, I was in the middle of something,” you grumbled.

“Here, let me, princess,” he winked, pushing your legs open and burying his head between you.

“Mikey!” you gasped as his tongue worked you over.

“You think I was just gonna listen to how wet I make you, and not get a taste?” his voice vibrated against you.

“Mikey! Not gonna last!”

“Aw, does my princess wanna cum?”

“Yes!” you said, gripping the sheets.

“Aw, you can ask better than that,” he teased, adding two fingers in you with ease.

You bit into your fist and shook your head.

“What’s wrong, princess? You can be loud now,” he told you, his free hand pulling your arm down.

“Mikey…” you writhed against him.

“Say what you want, princess.”

“Words. Can’t. Please!”

“Close enough,” he smirked, before pulling the orgasm from you.

When he didn’t let up, you kicked your legs, screaming. “Mikey!” you begged.

“One more, princess.”

“Mikey, please!”

“One more,” he said, more sternly, his free hand holding you down.

“Can I touch you, at least?” you whined, your squirming distracting him enough for you to somewhat catch your breath.

He rolled his eyes, but adjusted both of you so you could reach him and he could continue to drive you over the edge.

“Mikey!” you shrieked, gripping him hard as he tongue sucked on your sensitive clit.

“Give me one more, and then I’ll fuck you, princess.”

“Mikey…” you whined, needing him inside you.

“I said,” his voice growled, his hand holding you down as you squirmed, irritated with your impatience. “One. More!”

“MIKEY!”

“There it is,” he grinned. “See was that so hard, princess?” he continued to grin as he moved to kiss you.

“I thought you weren’t going to wear me out?” you asked, your chest heaving.

“We both know you can handle two orgasms, princess,” he winked, positioning himself above you.

“Three. You’re forgetting the shower one.”

“My point still stands. You can handle more, and we both know it, princess.”

“You still gotta let me breathe between the highs, Mikey.”

“Do you have your breath now, princess?”

“Yes… wh- OH GOD!” you moaned, fingers digging into his shoulders as he pushed into you.

“God, I’ve missed you, princess,” he said, placing sloppy kisses along your cheeks and neck, his hips slamming into yours as his hands gripped your arms.

“Mikey?”

“Yes, princess?” he grunted.

“Can you say it?”

“Say what?”

“Mikey…” you said, your eyes pleading.

“Oh,” he nodded, understanding. He pulled almost all the way out before slamming deep into you, making you gasp. “So. Fuckin. Deep!” he said, each word a new thrust. “Hmm? Is that what you wanted, princess? Wanted to feel me bury myself deep in you?”

“Yes! Mikey!” you nodded, feeling on the edge of another release.

“So fuckin deep,” he moaned slowly in your ear and you screamed his name in his.

~~~

“Mikey?” you asked, cuddled up in his arms.

“Hmm?”

“Can you do that every time we have sex?”

“Do what, baby?”

“The ‘so fuckin deep’ thing.”

His cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “You like that, huh?”

“It’s really hot,” you nodded.

“Maybe,” he conceded, and you knew all the words he wasn’t saying. He really didn’t like getting rough with you as his brain had a hard time separating the ravenous lust from the love he felt towards you.

“We can have soft sex, if you want,” you said, nuzzling your face into his, placing soft kisses along his jaw.

“Maybe in a bit. Wanna play videogames with me?”

“Mario Kart?”

“You’re on!” he grinned, scrambling out of bed to plug the gaming device into the TV.

“Hey Mikey?” you asked, moving to sit on the edge of the bed.

“Yeah baby?”

“I love you.”

“I love you, too, baby.”

#so fuckin deep #michael clifford #michael fic #5sos #galcal irwin

146 notes · View notes

uniqueleewritten · 3 years

Text

B is for Battlefield

This one is a bit longer (a little bit late but shh) but it’s a fun one! Hope you give it a read through!

Don’t forget you can donate to my Ko-fi to get early access and help support a Black Nonbinary Queer in these trying times

Ko-fi

The other stories

Story Under the Read more

"Hey, Ellie?" Lil called out as they were walking into their kitchen.

"Hi, Lil, what's up?" Ellie asked as she put another bowl into the dishwasher.

"Wondering if I can help you."

Ellie looked out at the others sitting around Lil's living room table, yelling at the board game.

"Had enough of that?" She asked pointing to the chaos.

Lil didn't even bother nodding, they just continued to stare at Ellie who eventually smiled in return.

"Well, you can help me decorate because that's the last thing to do at this point."

"I'm not good at cake decorating."

"You don't need to be with the yule log actually. Wash your hands real quick and then you can help."

Lil quickly did as they were told and then stood next to Ellie, grateful to be in the room with the person closest to them in height. They for once didn't have to look up when she was talking.

"Ok, so the cake and the ganache are both cool enough to work with now, so you just need to slap it on top and then use this offset spatula to spread it around, ok."

Lil took the spatula, once again amazed that such a thing existed, and then did as Ellie said. Ellie smiled at them before going to the refrigerator and grabbing the tupperware bowl of meringue mushrooms she had made earlier in the day. She set it down on the island next to Lil before grabbing the small bowl she used for melting chocolate.

The melted mixed chocolate would be amazing with the decadence of the meringue. The milk chocolate would add a touch of sweetness to compliment the high percentage dark chocolate pieces, keeping it all from being overly sweet. Something everyone but Lil would notice.

"What are these?" Lil asked holding a white meringue cap in their fingers.

"Meringue mushroom. Or they will be once I put them together anyway."

"Both?"

"Yep, I made normal meringue and chocolate meringue for it. I like the look of both together, makes them look more like mushroom clusters to me."

Lil didn't say anything and instead just stood, waiting for Ellie to give them more instruction. She handed a fork over before pulling her melted chocolate from the microwave and sitting across from Lil at the island.

"Ok, now you just take the fork and make a bunch of lines thru the frosting. Then we have bark on the log."

Lil made an affirmative noise before doing as they were told. Ellie quickly worked thru the meringue mushrooms, attaching the stems to caps with a bit of the chocolate and setting them aside. Soon the two were done and then they went about adding the mushrooms to various spots on the log.

"This looks good," Lil said when they were done.

"It does. Now we just add a few cherries and raspberries and then a bit of powdered sugar on top and it's finished. It will probably need to cool in the fridge for a bit before-"

"FUCK YOUR MONOPOLY!"

Ellie and Lil turned to look at Melvin beginning his tirade, Maya sitting there looking smug. Why anyone went with her idea to play Bankrupt or Billionaire, no one knew but Melvin sure was suffering from the sounds of it.

"Well, let's finish decorating before Maya's fat head knocks your condo down 3 floors."

"I hear the ground floor units have cheaper rent anyway." Lil joked in response.

Ellie snickered at the remark before starting to pour some powdered sugar into the sugar shaker. Lil grabbed the container of bright red fruit from the fridge and handed it over. Working together they easily decorated the cake, Lil placed cherries underneath some of the mushroom clusters while Ellie had placed a few raspberries along the bottom.

Ellie then showed Lil how to put the powdered sugar on top with a shaker. They told her that their parents had always used the mesh strainer to do this part and was a little amazed at the shaker. Lil was constantly surprised at the gadgets that existed to help around the kitchen.

Altogether the yule log looked amazing and Lil salivated at the thought of getting a slice.

"NO FUCKING WAY!"

"THAT'S WHAT YOU GET, YOU FUCKING WHORE!"

"Say it again you little bitch! I'll knock you so hard you might get smart."

"You wanna go?"

"KNOCK! It off you two!" Sheb yelled and then lowered her voice. Most likely trying to get their attention without causing any more noise, for all the good it did her.

Ellie shook her head before turning back to Lil who was doing much the same. They shared a laugh before putting the cake in the freezer to chill for a while.

"Now we do the cleanup and by the time we're done it should be set."

"Cool."

The two listened to the incessant yelling of the others, Melvin and Maya ranting at each other, Sheb yelling at them to calm down and Delphon yelling at Melvin for trying to jump over the table. The normal sounds of family board game night when Maya was allowed to pick the game.

If the games didn't end with Lil winning with skill, or Delphon winning out of luck, then Maya won out of a slow and agonizing torture spree that drove the others to dramatic deaths.

It didn't take long for Lil and Ellie to clean up everything as they worked together. Ellie rinsed the bowls out, giving the melted chocolate one a quick scrub, before stacking them into the dishwasher. While Lil cleaned off the island and wiped the countertops down before getting out the plates and silverware.

"Game up!" Lil called, from the safety of the kitchen still. They hoped the others would at least put the board game away. Maybe they would all have to eat their cake around the pieces and possibly bloodshed if Melvin got out of Delphon's grip.

Ellie set the knife on the counter and told Lil to come back in for it after they set the plates down. She would bring in the cake after she took pictures of it for her social media. She quickly snapped a few, listening to Lil kick the game off the table so they could put the plates down, before grabbing the tray. Lil passed her as they came back into the kitchen, careful not to bump into the tray she was holding.

Sheb was in the games cabinet, most likely putting the game up while Delphon was sitting on the couch, looking far more exhausted than Ellie had ever seen before. Maya and Melvin were standing, arguing about who the real winner was in light of the game ending early.

"I was the winner, you wannabe punk, get over it," Maya said, giving him a push.

Melvin gave a push back, not seeing Delphon's legs were right behind Maya and Ellie knew what would happen before she could stop it. She twisted somewhat, hoping the cake would survive but as Maya fell back on top of her, Delphon reaching out to catch her and Melvin staring in shock, she knew the yule log was done for.

The two hit the floor with a thud and the cake hit the carpet with a splat.

"Oh my god, are you two ok?" Melvin asked as Delphon moved to pull Maya up.

"Yeah, I'm ok." She told them, letting Delphon manhandle her over to the sofa. "Ellie, you ok?"

When Ellie didn't answer Delphon quickly knelt down and looked to see if she was ok, constantly calling her name. Ellie laid there on Lil's plush carpet just staring at the remains of her hard work. The last 4 and a half hours of her life sat in a mess all along the carpet.

"Oh shit," Melvin said when he noticed.

"Come on Ellie, let's get you up," Delphon said, all but picking her up like a parent does a sleeping child, before setting her down on the couch near Maya.

"Well, that's bad," Sheb said, a bit of worry in her voice.

"You're telling me," Melvin grumbled, running a hand through his hair. "I hate cleaning Lil's carpet."

"I meant Lil, actually," Sheb whispered fearfully.

Everyone but Ellie turned to look at the kitchen's archway and saw Lil standing there, the large cake knife in their hand.

"Oh fuck."

"Lillen, let's put the knife back down," Del said, slowly approaching them. Hoping to convince them with his words or stop them from using it in the worst-case scenario.

Maya stood and walked behind him, trying to apologize while also using Del as a shield between her and Lil. She told them that she would go out right now and buy whatever dessert Lil wanted, as an apology and a replacement. Hearing those words made Ellie see red.

How dare Maya think she could just replace 4 hours of work! How dare she think any other dessert would be comparable to her fantastic if not damn near perfect brandy yule log! How dare she think she could just replace the fucking meringue mushrooms!

Before she could stop herself, Ellie grabbed one of the large and decorative throw pillows and hit Maya in the head as hard as she could, sending the other woman falling to the couch with a shout. Before Maya could say anything Ellie was beating her with the pillow, repeatedly hitting her and hitting her and hitting her. Maya all the while yelling at her to stop.

"That fucking hurts!"

"Well, it should! I spent 4 hours on that cake Maya Thornridge! 4 hours!"

"I'm sorry!"

"I used good brandy in that cake damnit! And now it's sitting on the fucking floor!"

Ellie ignored Maya's pleas and instead heard Melvin chuckling behind her. She swiftly swung around and hit him in the face as well, sending him tumbling back into a chair with a thud and an oof. He quickly raised his arms to protect himself from her onslaught of pillow pummeling, not even bothering to try and apologize.

"Don't you dare fucking laugh at her Melvin Craig! You're the one who pushed her! I don't care if she pushed you first! You pushed her on top of me and we lost 4 hours of fucking work and the good brandy I put in there and the good chocolate I used for the ganache and I bought real actual cherries to go on top and you! pushed! her!"

She punctuated her last words with particularly hard swings before running out of steam. Her arms hung low as she panted, her chest and shoulders heaving with each breath she took before she simply let the pillow go. It dropped atop the plates and silverware forgotten on the table, making a loud clacking noise as they bumped each other around. Ellie fell back onto the couch, the fight completely out of her.

Everyone looked at her in silence, amazed that so much anger had come from her when before they had barely heard her yell at someone, let alone pummel them with a pillow.

Lil looked at the knife in their hand before shrugging and turning around. "Guess we don't need this anymore."

#femme slash #femme fiction #femme fiction febuary #femslash february #femslash #fun-sized femme fiction #fun-sized femme fiction february #polyam triad #fun sized femme fiction #fsff #I wrote a thing

2 notes · View notes