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satorubi · 1 year

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# ON CAM ! — eren jaeger

ꕤ SYNOPSIS — you and your boyfriend discover voyeurism.

— • content warning - voyeurism, f!reader, dom! eren, sub! reader, praise & degrading mixture, reader finds out that she’s a squirter :0, eren and u have matching tats, slight choking, a little bit of tongue fucking & fingering, oral, missionary, breeding, mating press, use of pet names such as ꒰ baby, slut, princess ꒱ aftercare.

— • notes — bruh. i feel like this is SUPER long and i apologize for that but my mind just kept running. i hope u all enjoyyy!! reblogs and feedback are always greatly appreciated <33

“wait—so you wanna’ film us fucking?”

the emerald-eyed boy looked down at you with a quirked brow as you showed him a rather inappropriate video on your phone. you couldn’t quite read your boyfriend’s face. he looked confused— yet intrigued and by the looks of his pants, maybe even a little turned on.

“well, yes. but we most definitely don’t have to if you don’t want to. i don’t know— i just thought maybe it’d be kinda fun or something.“ you ramble, worried of what your boyfriend might be thinking of you. in all honesty, you didn’t really think eren would be into this — eren liked what he liked and your weren’t exactly sure that this was his sort of ordeal.

“what, you wanna’ be my lil’ pornstar or something?”

you giggle, the title going through your ear and down to your panties. eren placed a small kiss on your forehead before disappearing into your bedroom. curious, you trail behind him like a lost puppy. no little after your new found discovery, your boyfriend could be seen setting up his phone on the dresser at angle to where the mattress was in perfect view.

“what’re you doing ren’?” you inquire, chewing on the inside of your cheek.

“you wanted to make a movie right? let’s make one.”

to say you weren’t nervous would be a lie. yes, this was your idea, but you didn’t actually think he’d do it — nor even consider it, but eren always seemed to prove you wrong.

“c’mon, don’t chicken out on me now, pretty.”

“i’m not!” you fight, folding your arms, “just didn’t think you’d actually wanna’ do this with me.”

the led lights stripped across your wall shined a light pink color as eren inched his way over to you. you could feel the callouses on his hands as he moved them from your shoulders to your cheeks, cupping them in his hands before whispering, “let’s put on a show,” onto your plump lips.

you gave into the kiss, and how could you not? it was impossible not to when his hands were now gripping and mounding at the flesh of your ass, the shorts that covered your bottom doing no justice. he had you damp from just a few simple kisses because when eren kissed, he kissed passionately, groaning and moaning into your mouth as your tongues danced in sync. his sounds only made your insides churn.

“get on the bed, baby— wanna’ taste you.”

you followed his orders without hesitation, laying your back against the cool silk bedspread and spreading your legs as wide as you could. without warning, a harsh slap to your thigh causes your head to lift, your eyes squinting over at eren who had a stern look on his face.

“flip over and arch your back. you know how i like to eat it.”

you quickly did as you were told, turning onto your tummy and perking your ass up high in the air for his appeal. he stared in awe as your cheeks jiggled from your adjustment. no matter how many times he’s seen it, he’ll never get over your ass — the way it ripples when he fucked you from behind. or the stretch marks that you’ve gotten over time. or maybe it was the matching tattoo of his small initials on your right cheek— yours being on his v-line.

yeah, that last one was definitely his most favorite.

“ren’ please do something— i need you,” you whine, inching your ass back in hopes to tempt him enough to get started already. you hated when he did this— teasing you. he knew how badly you ached for his touch, but you were just so cute begging for him like this.

“relax,” he grunts, lowering his body down to be leveled with your dripping cunt. you could feel his small breaths against your core, sending a chill down your spine. finally, after what felt like forever, eren’s rough hands gripped your cheeks, spreading them apart to get a clear view of your gushing opening.

“pussy’s so fuckin’ pretty,” he says, voice being muffled as he digs in. his tongue lapped at your folds before he entered it in and out of your hole, the cold metal of his tongue piercing causing you to flinch at the feeling. he smiles into your pussy as he ate at you like you were his final meal, your moans and whimpers encouraging his performance.

“oooo—fuck! eren, yes—you’re so good at that, baby.”

he must’ve liked your praise, because as soon as the words fell from your lips, eren’s tongue seemed to pick up speed. you began to move and grind your cunt onto him, fucking his face as your ass cheeks smothered him. for a brief moment, eren didn’t move his mouth an inch, allowing you to fuck yourself as you pleased — using his tongue as your toy.

“aah. ren’ oh my— shit! m’ cumming. m’ cumming.” you yelp, earning a long groan from eren that sent vibrations to your core— only making your orgasm approach quicker. something felt different about this feeling. you had a sudden urge to pee rather than cum and in fear, you begin to run away from your climax.

but eren wasn’t having that. not one bit.

his long arms extended outward, grabbing your hips and flipping you onto your back before sticking his middle and index finger deep into you, “wait— wait, wait, wait. i don’t know ren’— i feel like i’m gonna—“

“what? gonna’ make a mess?” he taunts.

“ren’ please.”

“it’s okay, baby. ill clean it up. i’ll clean it all up. go ahead, make a mess for me.” he continued to encourage you all while using his free hand to push down on your belly, making your orgasm come at a meaner, faster pace than usual as you stared at him with pleading eyes. you watched as he mouthed the words ‘cum for me’ and as if it were on cue, your pussy clamped around his fingers.

“yes, yesss. good girl,” he purrs, jolting his hand in and out of you until you could only see white spots around the room. once you gathered some sort of consciousness back, you looked down between your legs, eren slowly removing his fingers from your hole with a mixture of your juices and his salvia all over them.

“damn, i didn’t know you could do that,” he laughs.

“neither did i.”

you smiled and opened your mouth without him having to ask, your way of asking him to taste yourself. without another thought, eren stuck his soaked fingers inside of your mouth as your lips closed around them.

“mmh,” you moan.

“you taste good, huh?”

you nod, “think you can make me do that again? it felt s-so good ren’.”

“you don’t even have to ask. ima’ do that anyway,” he smirks, leaning down to kiss at your neck as he positioned himself above you. there wasn’t a single moment of clarity before he had you spread for him again— your legs on either side of your head as he gripped at your breasts. as eager as he was to finally feel you, he needed a moment to bask in all of your glory.

you were so beautiful like this — spread and open for him and only him to see. every time the two of you fucked, the only thing he could think about was how lucky he was to have you. it was more than just the amazing sex — it was like a sense of euphoria that couldn’t be achieved with anyone else but his pretty girl.

“eren, i need you, baby. please— fuck me.”

at first, eren had an intention of teasing you the whole night, but that idea quickly faded the moment he entered his cock into the warmth of your pussy. he stroked slowly, in and out at a gentle pace to get you use to the feeling of him splitting you open.

“ah— shit. you’re so tight. every fuckin’ time,” he grunts. everything around him seemed to be drowned out by your whimpers and whines. by now his strokes had picked up. the gold anklet on your foot hung by his ear as he pounded into you, his tip kissing at your plushy cervix.

it was a mix of pleasure and pain. the feeling of your pussy being filled to the brim with his length. he’d never fucked you like this before — like he needed you. just when you thought you couldn’t possibly fall more in love with him, he quickly debunked that theory.

“god— look at the way you’re squeezing me. you’re unbelievable. you like being fucked on camera, huh? give em’ a smile, slut.” he teases, his upper lip turning into a grin as he moved his hands to squeeze at your neck— your mouth producing strained moans from the back of your throat.

“eren, m-more please. i need you deeper. i wanna’ feel it here,” you say, hand moving down toward the pudge of your stomach. before you could say another word, eren pulled completely out of you. you groan from the empty void that was once stuffed full of him.

“nnngh— put it back. s-stop ren’.”

he chuckles at you, slapping his tip all over your clit before pushing your thighs all the way back onto your chest. now, he was directly on top of you, the weight of his body keeping you against the mattress. by the look on his face, he was determined and you knew this position all too well.

mating press. he was fucking you in a mating press.

this was a bit shocking. usually eren avoided this position, claiming that ‘it made him bust too quick’. but with the way you were sucking him in, he wanted nothing more than to paint your fluttering walls white.

“gonna’ take this dick for me right?” he asks, rubbing his tip against your cunt. you wrapped your arms around your knees to keep them against you as you nodded, eyebrows furrowed and lips formed into a cute little pout. eren’s cock twitched as he grabbed ahold of it in his hand, guiding himself in inch by inch until you were completely full.

“oh my fucking god— eren, shit! you exclaim, your moans were almost as loud as the sound of his balls slapping against your ass. his pace was slow, hard, but slow — just how you liked it. the feeling of his veiny cock sliding in and out of you was a feeling you’d never grow tired of.

“this what you wanted? hm, princess? who knew you w-were such a slut?” he asks, voice a bit shaky. you knew he was trying his hardest not to completely fall apart and he looked so good like this — sweat glistening on his skin, his man bun falling apart at the seams and small whimpers escaping his lips that he hoped you didn’t hear — so pretty. so yours.

“you feel so good around me. pussy’s a fuckin’ dream, y/n. i could stay here forever, baby,” he shakes in head in disbelief, eyes traveling down to look at the heaven between your legs. cream formed around the base of his dick and even then— he could feel you getting ready to coat it again.

“r-right there, eren. please, please, don’t stop.”

he hit the same spot over and over again while whispering a breathy, ‘right here?’ that’s when your eyes batted shut, the volcano in your tummy about to erupt— and eren felt it too, both of your orgasms approaching at the same time.

“shit baby, m’ gonna cum. can i cum in you? hm? make you my lil’ cum slut?” he grunts, pieces of his hair falling to to the front of his forehead, the built up sweat making it stick.

“yes! yes, yes, yes. i’m yours, please! fuck— cum in me eren. i wan’ it.”

with a few more thrusts, eren was there and so were you. his strokes became disorganized and his groans gradually got louder as he buried his head into your neck.

“m’ cumming’ y/n— fuck! baby, aah.”

the creamy sound of your cunt milking his cock was the only thing eren heard before he spilled into you. every grunt, moan and whimper filled your ears as you let your head fall back onto the pillow below you, eren still rocking into you to finish you both off. at this point you were too overstimulated to speak a word— your silence concerning him a bit as he came down from his his high, breathing hard while slipping out of you gently.

“was everything okay? i didn’t hurt you did i?” he asks, a look of worry plastered on his handsome face as he rises from the bed to grab his phone, pressing the red ‘end’ button on the screen.

oh right, you were recording.

“you were perfect ren’, like always,” you assure, your eyes slowly closing as you attempt to recover from the last few minutes. you could feel a small kiss on your cheek and a tap on your thigh before hearing the faint sound of your bath tub running. you could’ve sworn you’d fallen asleep until you felt the warmth of wash cloth being rubbed up and down your skin — eren wiping away the mess between your thighs.

“guess we gotta’ try something new more often?” he jokes.

you laugh and peck your boyfriends lips, “i guess we do.”

with that being said, you let your boyfriend scoop you into his arms, finishing the night off by carrying you bridal style to your awaited bath.

#eren x fem!reader #eren yeager smut #eren x black reader #eren x you #aot #i can’t get him out of my mind #saaturnowrites #snk eren #snk

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ventiswampwater · 11 months

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Ive never sent anon hate before but you’ve gotten on my last nerve ok? First of all how dare you continue to be a fantastic writer with the very best ideas. Your ability to curate the crumbs of peak level of nasty is unfair. Leave some for the rest of us!!!

I bet youre so gorgeous and i bet u throw that ass in a circle regularly too??? Ugh!??? Every fic u make has me wanting to chew my phone and phase thru walls and i am too poor to deal with the fallout of both.

I guess u hate the poor and horny!!! Ur taking advantage of my THIRST by continuing to make fantastic content because now i cant read anyone elses shit because its like dirty heroin compared to your pure black tar uncut supply. 🙄

U CAN'T JUST SEND PPL SUCH DISRESPECTFUL ASS SHIT????

I'm literally WOUNDED. these hateful anon asks speared me directly through the chest and now I'm bleedin out all over the fuckin floor. somebody call life alert bc the world is cruel. my cries fall on deaf ears. u have cut the phone line.

I can't take much more of this. if u keep sending bitches (me), this VILE ass shit I might have to do somethin drastic and just marry ur ass or smthn.

u wanna be in a forced arranged marriage??? w/me?? the pathetic cigarette munching harlettt??? is that ur end goal??? u wanna be posted up in a shack hobbled together w/washi tape and bubblegum?? drinking sweaty sock tea for eternity??? u evil creature. does mercy mean nothing to u??? I'm sobbing. I'm standing in a jared's w/tears in my eyes. spending my life's savings on a beautiful solitaire diamond ring. what cut would u like? u have beaten me down into a shell of a human. round? pear? cushion? emerald? heart, like the one in my CHEST that u BROKE???? whatever u want ig.

how dare u say that my precious pookie bear of pain n torment would not pass the fitnessgram 20-meter pacer test. how dare u imply that he would trip over his oversized pants and bust his geriatric hip on the ground. how COULD u. my world is crumbling. I can hear the sirens. the wind is wailing and the sky is churning above me. RED and COAGULATED w/the blood of a million screaming hicks. this isn't how it was supposed to go. but perhaps it's what I deserve.

I'm blowing the horn of the last rapture and ur there to whip me w/a rod made of marlboro boxes and the tattered remains of a busted fanbelt. what USE are fanbelts at the end of the world? the cars don't start anymore, their engines useless and dead in their metal shells. ur pitching me forward into a landfill and I'm fallin FACE FIRST into a slimy puddle of expired mayo and beer. I thought u loved me?? but love is lost on ppl like u. my ass bounces and ur transfixed. sigh. but have u ever thot abt the soul that lives within that phatness?? u haven't. u never would!!! I should've KNOWN.

I'm on my knees w/shaky hands placing the engagement ring on ur finger. why am I sticky? how did I get coated in mountain dew? oh no. u scoff @ me. it's the wrong cut. u will have 2 pawn this ugly ass engagement ring and idk how ur gonna do that bc there are no more pawn shops in the apocalypse. shit. I can't deal w/the shame. my strap game is flaccid and ur words are razor-sharp. u made me lose @ wii bowling and I never lose @ wii bowling. u have rerouted my brain and stomped my will into tiny pieces w/ur shoes. they are the color of sunshine, of butter, of happiness. I used to know of such things.

light the match in our gasoline-soaked pussy hell. we shall perish how we lived, throwin it back eternally. so it has been written, so it shall be done.

#BITCH DFJSHJFSDHJHFDSJHFDSJHFDSJ #I CANNOT W/U I'M FLYING OUT TO GET U RN #U HEAR THAT BANGIN @ UR DOOR. U HEAR THAT SCRATCHIN AND HISSIN IN THE WALLS??? THAT'S ME N MY FLACCID STRAP GAME COMIN 4 U #deactivating brb #long post

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noctumbra · 3 years

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𝒕𝒊𝒍𝒍 𝒅𝒂𝒘𝒏 (𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆 𝒄𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒔𝒖𝒏)

summary ─ “not yet,” he whispered. “i jus’ wanna keep on kissin’ you.”

pairing ─ fuckboy!bucky barnes x reader

warnings ─ smut, +18, light fluff, angst, kissing, riding, crying, emotinal sex, shall we call it love making???, unprotected sex, nothing extreme in this one folks, this is the real goodbye sex believe

a/n ─ hi. i'm back with yet another fb bucky fic :) i feel like i fucked up a bit towards the end but.... lmao hope you like it! please leave a comment if you do! thank youuu <333

previous part ─ trilogy masterlist

It was the graduation day when he popped out from his hiding place.

It had been weeks since the last time you saw Bucky. You knew he dropped you off to your apartment, your roommate was kind enough to tell you because he had to ring the bell. You saw your call history on your phone and knew you called Bucky. You talked on the phone for almost forty minutes. You didn’t remember what you talked about, though, and that was what you’d like to ask him, but you haven’t seen him ever since that night.

So, when your doorbell rang as you were getting ready for the day, you didn’t expect to find him standing at your doorstep.

“Hi,” he whispered. He had a tired smile on his face; his eyes looked haunted and it seemed like he lost weight. You frowned.

“Hey,” you whispered back. Your eyes were seizing his body up and down, worry etched on your face. “Are you okay?” You couldn’t help but ask. He sniffed lightly and nodded. It was a hesitant nod, and you picked up on it immediately. “Bucky…” you said. He waved a dismissive hand on the air.

“It’s fine,” he murmured. “Couldn’t sleep lately, that’s it.” You frowned but didn’t say anything. Opening the door a little more, you invited him inside. He smiled as he stepped through the threshold. “I was, um, wondering how you’re doing since, uh, you know, that night.”

“Oh,” you breathed. “I’m fine.” You slowly moved your head back and forth. Chewing on your lip, you decided to out with it. “I saw that I called you that night from my call history,” you started. “I don’t remember what we talked about, though.” You watched Bucky as his face went from shocked to relieved to sad. It was an interesting transition, you thought. “I was hoping you could tell me, actually.”

He let out a laugh, it sounded forced. “Oh, um, it was nothing important, really,” he said, shrugging. “You talked about how you hated the taste of beer, and said that you can’t understand why people like vodka.” He smiled.

“For forty minutes?” You asked, eyebrows high on your forehead. He nodded. “Damn.” You would talk about those things, and if you did talk about them for forty minutes, then it was too normal for you to now remember anything because you must have been drunk as fuck. You chuckled. “Here I was worrying myself to sickness because I made a dumb out of myself.” Bucky chuckled lightly with you.

“No, you didn’t,” he said. “You were totally right.” You rolled your eyes.

“Sure, Barnes,” you grunted. Bucky chuckled again. A silence fell between you two, but it wasn’t disturbing. Instead, it was peaceful, and you smiled when you realized you somehow missed his presence being next to you.

“You’re gonna look beautiful,” Bucky said after a short while, and you made a questioning hum. He pointed at your dress for the graduation day. “It’s gonna look amazing on you.” You felt your cheeks burn as you smiled and ducked your head.

“Thanks,” you murmured. Bucky’s lips curled up at your reaction, his stomach suddenly flipping over. He silently cleared his throat. “I’ll, um,” you started, biting your lips for a second before you continued. “I’ll see you at the graduation?” You asked. Sniffing a little, Bucky nodded.

“Yeah,” he said. “I’m gonna be there. I’m graduating, too, y’know,” he added. You let out a short chuckle, and he rolled his eyes, but both of you were joking. So, it didn’t take you too long to start laughing.

“It’s good to know that you were studying while parading around,” you murmured with a grin on your face. Bucky blushed. He might have been fucking around, yes, but he did study to his exams, thank you very much.

“Well, I gotta pay my loans somehow, right?” He sent you a wink and grinned back at you. You shook your head fondly.

You hated for making you fall in love with him, breaking your heart and using you, but you knew you were going to miss him like crazy after today. You didn’t know his plans after school─ actually, you didn’t know anything about him and his life. You didn’t know about his future plans, about his parents, siblings if he had any, or what he liked to do on his free time. He was a blank page; the only thing you knew, however, was what he liked in bed and how he acted when he was angry, and that was it. You frowned slightly.

“Hey─” You heard him and felt his large, warm hand holding your wrist gently. “Where did you go?” He asked, his voice soft and eyes concerned. It was a new look on him; not unwelcomed but unexpected. You never saw him worrying over you, or showing his emotions so openly to you before.

You chewed on your lip, debating on telling the truth. Looking at his beautiful, blue eyes, seeing the slight vulnerability in them, you said ‘fuck it’ to yourself in your mind. “I’m gonna miss you,” you blurted. “After today, I mean. I’m gonna miss seeing you around.”

His eyes changed. Their color looked brighter, they widened, and you saw some tears gathering in them. You felt your heart beating in your throat as you watched him shedding a tear.

“I’m gonna miss you, too,” he whispered. He sounded so broken, so raw, you wanted to hug him and tell him that you weren’t going to leave him. “I’m gonna miss hearing your bitching about random things,” he added. You snorted. You rolled your eyes and snorted again.

“You─” You started but stopped to huff some when you heard him snickering. “You idiot.” Bucky laughed. His whole face lightened up as he threw his head back and laughed. You should have felt insulted because he was laughing at you, but he looked so happy, and you just couldn’t. You huffed a bit more. “I’m not gonna miss your dumb ass, Barnes,” you muttered. He giggled.

“C’mon,” he said. “You love my dumb ass.” He froze, thinking he fucked up, but your soft chuckle relaxed him.

“It is a nice ass,” you murmured. Bucky watched a large grin spread on your face with sparkling eyes. He chuckled, a soft blush sitting high on his cheekbones. You just grinned at him cheekily. You were so beautiful, so gorgeous, Bucky couldn’t believe he got the chance to have you in his life in a fucked up but good way. He wished so badly that he could take all the shitty things he did to you, but he knew it was too late.

He cleared his throat. He should leave, he thought, but before he could reach for the door, he felt your hand closing around the collar of his t-shirt, and he was yanked forward.

Your lips collided; soft and slick ones against the chapped and slightly cold ones. Bucky gasped as he shivered and gave into your kiss. His lips were the cold ones, so he let you warm them. He let you stroke, kiss and lick them, and in return, he swallowed all the whimpers and breathy little moans you released into his mouth.

“Baby,” Bucky panted as he pulled back slightly. One of his hands found its place on your cheek, cradling it gently. His thumb was stroking your cheekbones, touching your eye and caressing your slick lips.

“Please,” you whispered. “I─ Please, James, I-I need you, please.” You looked into his eyes with tears blurring your vision. You heard the small hitch in his breath, watched him grimacing with pain and then, he leaned in for another kiss.

Moaning in unison, you grabbed at him. You felt his arms wrapping around your waist, and he pushed you against the wall, caging you against it with his body. You whimpered. You missed having his body this close you, missed feeling his lips teasing yours and missed letting him kiss you all over.

“Mmmm,” Bucky hummed deeply as he nibbled on your neck gently. He was being careful about leaving marks since there was a graduation you had to go through, but you didn’t care. He could give you hickeys, and you’d cover them up with make-up. The only thing you cared, however, was to have him inside of you. You’ve gone without him for too long.

“Bucky…” You whispered. You heard him hum again. Your hand grabbed his hair, pulling a little, you whined lowly. “Bucky…” He hummed louder. You huffed. His teeth were worrying a flesh in his mouth, sucking and licking over it. Every puff of his breath was making the small hairs on your body to rise, making you shudder violently in his arms. “Sir…” You finally whimpered, and Bucky bit you hard.

“Yeah, love?” He asked. “What is it?” He kissed the place he bit. “Tell me.” You wiggled and exposed your throat to him even more. Humming approvingly, he placed kisses all over. “Come on, baby, tell me what you want, hm?”

“Take me to bed, please,” you whispered. “I missed you, missed having you in me, please.” You looked at him through your lashes. His eyes went dark, pupils dilating, Bucky let out a soft growl.

“That so, baby?” He murmured. You nodded. Your eyes still had some tears in them, and you felt one of them running down. Bucky’s face crumpled immediately; expression softening, he leaned in to kiss the tear away. You only held onto him tighter. “A’right,” he whispered. “Hang on tight, lil’ koala.” You smiled at the name but did as he said.

He kept peppering kisses on your face as he walked towards your bedroom and was gentle when he laid you down on your bed. He was standing between your legs, elbows supporting his weight, when he leaned in for another kiss.

This one feels a bit different, you thought. Your eyes were closed and hands were in his hair. He kissed you gently, softly even. The way he cradled your cheek in his palm was loving, and you felt new tears stinging. It was chaste, this kiss. Neither of you included tongue in it; it was only lips, your hands on each other’s faces and the intimacy.

Slowly, both of you got rid of your clothes. First, it was your t-shirt on the ground with your bra and then his t-shirt joined them, and then came out your shorts and his jeans. He let your panties and his boxers on, though. When you made a questioning hum, Bucky just smiled.

“Not yet,” he whispered. “I jus’ wanna keep on kissin’ you,” he added. You hummed happily. As much as you wanted him in you, you were definitely okay with more kissing.

─

Bucky probably should have walked away after he saw that you were doing fine. Hell, maybe he shouldn’t have come to check up on you. He was going to see you at the graduation, he could have waited for couple more hours, but he was scared that he might have missed you during the chaos and never saw you again.

He had to say proper goodbye this time.

He didn’t think you’d start things, though. It was always him who started these sort of things; it always him who kissed you first, who begged you to give in and tried to convince you to take you to the bed. Roles were reversed, today. You took the first step.

Bucky should have stopped this after the kiss. He should have pulled back. He should have thanked you, murmured his goodbye and wished you success and love in life. Instead, he kept kissing you.

This would be the last time he’d be taking you, though, he thought. After that, you were off to God knows where. He wasn’t even sure if he’d ever see you again. So, he gave in.

Kissing you and feeling you against his body were the best feeling he had ever experienced in this world, he was sure of it. Having your hands pulling on his hair, nails digging into the muscles of his back and being able to swallow your moans and whimpers into his kiss were the things he would always remember. He was going to remember the way you whined his name so prettily, the way you moaned breathily when he made you come… Bucky was going to miss these, was probably going to yearn these, but he knew he had to say goodbye.

He was no good to you. He only hurt you, made you cry. He did not deserve you.

Bucky knew that he was never going to be worthy of your love. He was too much of an asshole for that. He was going to have a very little piece from it while he could, though.

“Bucky…” You breathed. Your eyes were closed, and your face was peaceful. Bucky smiled. Kissing your cheeks, he nipped on your jaw lightly.

“Yeah, baby?” He murmured. He felt you wiggle under him.

“Wanna feel you,” you whispered. “Please? We don’t have much time, I wanna feel you.” Bucky held back a sigh. You were right; you did not have much time, and Bucky suddenly wanted to ditch the graduation and stay here with you in your bed.

“Alright, love,” he whispered back. “Okay, sssh.”

His fingers found the hem of your panties, and Bucky was gentle as he stripped you free of them. He slid off his own boxers, briefly straightening up to chuck them on the ground, he grabbed his wallet to dig out a condom.

You grabbed his wrist, stopping him.

“No,” you whispered. “Can we not use it? I wanna feel you.” Bucky swallowed harshly. You wanting to feel him, wanting him to be bare in you… He was going to be pissed if this was one of those dreams.

“We don’t wanna have a baby, right now,” Bucky murmured, trying to joke a little. “We’re barely adults.” You smiled as you patted his cheeks. Bucky realized your smile looked sad. Blinking, he tried to ignore it.

“I started taking the pill again,” you said. “Just wanna feel you, come on.” Bucky nodded. He could feel his body shaking lightly; nervousness and excitement mixing with his lust. He nodded again. Pressing a kiss on your forehead, he dropped the wallet.

You pulled him into a kiss as Bucky grabbed his cock and lined it up. He greedily swallowed all the moans you released while he slid into your wetness smoothly.

“Fuck,” he moaned loudly.

The exquisite feeling of your wet and warm walls around his hard cock felt so fucking good that Bucky felt like he was about to come. It was such an intense feeling, Bucky suddenly hated the existence of the condoms. It served for an understandable reason, but it also deprived him from a sensation like this one.

“Hmm,” you mewled. “Sir, fuck, you feel so good,” you panted, then. Bucky grunted.

You should have done this before, Bucky thought, he should have taken you bare earlier even though he was sort of glad that this happened on your very last time.

“’ma move, love,” he whispered into your ear. “Can’t wait anymore.” You nodded. Your hands were holding onto his sides tightly, thighs wrapped around his waist as Bucky pulled out only to slowly slide back in.

He was going to drag your last time out as long as he could. He wanted this to last. He was not going to fuck you and be done with you, no. He did that enough in the past. He was going to feel you, now.

“Mmm, Bucky!” You whimpered. Your nails were digging in deep, but Bucky didn’t care. He wanted you to leave marks so that he could look at himself in the mirror later and touch them and cry. He let out a harsh breath as he slid in once again. “Yeah!” You cried out softly. “There, please.”

Bucky did as you said and kept hitting that spot of your repeatedly. His pace was still slow and deep, he was still trying to make it last and feel you deep in his presence. You didn’t seem to mind. In fact, you were quiet as you held onto him tightly. He could only hear your barely-audible whimpers and his name as a whisper when the thrust was particularly deep.

“You feel so good, baby,” Bucky whispered. His ears were howling, his brain was going fuzzy around the edges and he started to hear some sort of a white noise through the howling.

Bucky felt his eyes and nose burn. The feeling of your naked body against his, him being bare inside of your wetness and you holding onto him tightly… Bucky felt raw. He felt vulnerable as hell. Every place of his body where it was touching yours was on fire. It was like your skin was getting etched into his, marking him completely and forever, and Bucky was letting it happen.

“James,” you breathed silently. A soft sob ripped apart from him as he buried his face into your neck. You kissed his temple, petted his hair and stroked his back. You could hear his soft sobs, silent sniff and slight shaking of his shoulders. You kissed his temple again. You pushed him back, but he scrambled to hold you against him. “I’m not going anywhere,” you whispered. “I’m here. Just lay back, alright?” Bucky sniffed silently and did as you said.

He leaned back against the headboard, and you climbed onto his lap. Lowering yourself onto his cock again, you held his head against your chest, allowed him to hide there.

“Sssh,” you murmured softly. His hands were on your back, holding you tightly. “It’s okay. I’m here.” You hugged like that for a short while. His sobs slowly ebbed away, but you continued to stroke his hair.

“’m sorry,” he whispered, voice croaked. You shrugged. You grabbed his face in your palms and lifted his head up. His eyes were glowing even more with some redness in them, his nose was a bit puffy like his eyes, but it was the expression that hit you hard.

It was pain. Raw, unhidden pain. His eyes were earnest as they looked into yours. You felt the oxygen trapped in your throat when you made eye contact. You shivered. It felt like his eyes were looking into the very depth of your soul, seeing and understanding your true feelings towards him. It scared you.

So, you leaned in and kissed him as a distraction. Anything to get his eyes off of you.

Bucky whimpered. He wrapped his arms around your waist, hugging you, as he returned your kiss. His soft lips parted lightly and allowed your tongue inside. You licked into his mouth, stole another whimper and bit down on his bottom lip.

“Move,” he whispered. “Take what you want.” He gave you a chaste kiss. You exhaled shakily as you raised yourself on your knees a little only to fall back down. You moaned. Bucky peppered soft kisses on your neck. His hold on your waist was tight still, and you didn’t have the heart to tell him to ease off even though it made breathing just a tad harder.

You wrapped your arms around his neck and buried his face to your chest. Bucky, understanding what you were implying, took a nipple in his mouth and sucked and bit on it gently. The lazy suction and slow movements of your hips were driving you crazy. Everything felt so sharp, so deep and so scary but also so good, you felt like you were falling apart.

“Come,” Bucky whispered, pulling his mouth off your nipple. “Can feel you, come, baby.” You whined loud and long as you came on his cock. Your orgasm felt like it went for a century. Its hold took over you slowly, spread through your body from your belly like a wrecking ball, but you felt the impact into your bones. You cried out.

Whining, you kissed Bucky’s cheeks, lips and nose. “Come in me,” you panted silently. “Sir, Bucky, please, come in me. I need it─” You cut yourself off with a low moan. Bucky let out a sharp cry as his hips thrusted up into your still convulsing core. He was close. His balls were tight and full with his come. Your walls were trying to milk it away from him, he could fucking feel it.

“Sweetheart,” Bucky breathed and then moaned. You cooed at him.

“’m here. C’mon,” you continued to coo. “Come in me, Sir. Lemme feel you.”

Feeling his whole body going taut, Bucky buried a moan into the crook of your neck as he came inside of you. You sighed as Bucky let out small whimpers. You could feel his come coating your walls, and you hummed.

You stayed in that position for a while, cuddling and breathing each other in. His hands were holding you tight, fingers drawing various shapes on your body while you traced his tattoos and examined his piercings. Both of you came down from your high slowly.

You got up and rolled off of him.

“Yuck,” you whispered as you felt his come leaking out of you. Bucky smiled apologetically. “I wanted it,” you reminded him, giving him a kiss on the cheek. You walked towards the bathroom, quickly cleaning yourself. When you returned to your bedroom in a bathrobe, you saw him dressing up. “Leaving already?”

Bucky grimaced. “We only have two hours to get ready,” he murmured. His voice was soft and low. You found it soothing. “I can’t hang around too long, gotta shower and change.” You nodded. This time, it didn’t feel like an excuse to run away. Graduation was onto you both, it was understandable, but Bucky wasn’t running away.

“Okay,” you nodded. “Yeah, make sense.” Bucky nodded, too. He pulled his jeans on, fixed his t-shirt and hair and grabbed his wallet.

“I, uh,” he started, inclining his head towards the door. You let out a ‘yeah’. He smiled. You were at the door when he turned around, suddenly looking very serious.

“This was the last time I was taking you, you know that right?” Bucky asked. He wasn’t taunting, or bragging or anything. His voice was still soft and low, but he sounded like he was far away. “We’re graduating, and God knows what’s expecting us. We’re gonna have different lives and… we’re growing up.” Bucky sent you sad smile. “Maybe I shouldn’t have let you kiss me like that because I wanted to say goodbye properly, but I don’t regret it, so,” he shrugged. “Take care, will you?” With teary eyes, you looked at him. Bucky sighed. In one step, you were in his arms and hugging him tightly.

You understood what he meant. Whatever you had was for during college. The end has come; it was the graduation day, and that meant you had to leave this part of your college life behind. You didn’t want to, especially not when you were in love with him, but he was right. You were going to have different lives. You were adults for a couple years, but graduating meant that you were an official one now.

“It’s gonna be alright,” Bucky whispered and pulled back. “You’re gonna be okay and successful in your job. You’re tough like that.” He smiled, this time it was a genuine one. He leaned in and kissed your forehead. “Take care, Y/N.”

“Take care, Bucky,” you whispered. “You’re gonna be one hell of a teacher.” That pulled a startled laugh out of Bucky, and you grinned tearfully. “A badass one, too.” You eyed his tattoos. He shrugged.

“Yeah, I guess,” he murmured. “Gonna be that teacher, but it’s worth it.” Giving you a lopsided smirk, he watched you for a couple seconds. Then, he walked to the door, opening it. He looked at you before he walked out. He looked like he wanted to say something, but in the last second he decided against it. You ran to him, kissing his cheek and fixing his hair.

“Be gentle to yourself,” you murmured. Bucky nodded.

“I’ll try,” he whispered and then cleared his throat. “Um. Bye, Y/N.” You muttered a soft ‘bye’, and he was off. You closed the door and sank down. You let the tears wash your face and pain away.

─

As soon as Bucky was outside, he let out a sob. He wanted to tell you that he loved you, but he didn’t want to give you that hope and then crush it. He knew he would fuck up somehow if you were to try out a relationship. You didn’t deserve that. He didn’t deserve you.

Lifting his head up, looking at the sky, Bucky took a deep breath.

“Here comes the sun,” he whispered and turned on his heels.

His figure got lost in the sea of people as he walked down the street. He felt like he lost a piece of himself in them, too.

#bucky barnes x reader #fukcboy!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes imagines #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes angst #fuckboy!bucky #bucky x you #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes blurbs #till dawn (here comes the sun)

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apocalypticgargoyle · 3 years

Text

𝘽𝙊𝙔𝙁𝙍𝙄𝙀𝙉𝘿 | 𝙠𝙖𝙧𝙡 𝙟𝙖𝙘𝙤𝙗 (18+)

∘ request(s): I am in love w all of you and i'm getting to the others when they fit :)

my personal favorites:

∘ pairing: edgy!Karl Jacobs x fm!reader

∘ warnings: nsfw (minors dni), smut, choking, fingering, slight domination

∘ links: 𐐪 ao3 𐑂 𐐪 previous part 𐑂 𐐪 submit an edgy!karl edit 𐑂

a/n: my incentive for getting these done (when they're fuffy) is listening to 21st Century Vampire in a dark room for four days, in case you guys were wondering.

Your tongue felt like sandpaper as you chewed the inside of your cheek. "No, uh… I think I need some time…" you trailed, your eyes flashing to his. "... To think…"

He nodded slightly, taking one last look at you before slipping out your front door, the lock clicking shut behind him.

Your heart hammered in your ears. You took a seat on your couch, carding your fingers through your hair as his face flashed into your mind, the somewhat confused expression boring a hole in your heart. You’d led him on, you knew it. It wasn’t that you weren’t into him, but the cold fear of what the two of you had vanishing after assigning labels flushed through your body. What if it was only as strong as it was because you weren’t stuck to each other? Was the fact that you were choosing to sleep with him and him alone not enough? What more could he want?

Then it dawned on you; what more would it be? The two of you were already attached at the hip a ridiculous amount of time, you already knew more about him than you cared to, and obviously, the two of you were already past the awkwardness of building a sexual relationship.

So what the fuck was wrong with you? Would it be so awful to be his girlfriend?

You avoided him for a few weeks, your mind burning with guilt and indecisiveness. As soon as you had straightened your thoughts and favored one reality over another, it was like buyer’s guilt persuaded you the other way.

Lectures were quiet, even lonesome for you without him around. That would add to your Pro Karl list; he was great company, especially in public, when he knew people were watching the two of you. Would that element be different when the two of you were dating?

You hadn’t realized how apparent your moping had become until your roommate brought it up one night. You were tucked into your favorite spot on the couch, mind racing with how to solve your problems. “I called Karl. I’m sick of this weepy, self-loathing bullshit. Man up and tie him down. I know you want to,” she stated bluntly, tugging open the curtains in the room to get to the windows. The night breeze wafted in as if it’d been knocking against the glass for an hour. “He’s outside.”

You blinked at her as she pulled you out of your seat. “He’s what?”

She pulled you behind her, slipping on her jacket. “I’m going to Clay’s. Work this shit out and let me know if I need to vacate for the week,” she jested, making you roll your eyes as she pushed you out in front of her. As she headed down the stairwell, Karl was on his way up, greeting her brightly as he usually did.

He smiled at you gently as he stopped in front of you, fondness and allure playing in his eyes. Even if you looked disheveled, he still looked upon you with pride and admiration. His hair was longer, but despite that, he looked exactly the same way you’d left him. You cleared your throat, the wind bringing his scent towards you. “We need to talk,” you mumbled. “You were right.”

He pressed his back against the dividing wall, tucking a cigarette behind his ear that he had between his fingers and looking out over the railing behind you. The city lights reflected in his eyes. "I didn’t mean to freak you out or anything. I just..." He looked at you softly. "Fuck, I really like you."

You crossed your arms, hands rubbing against the sleeves of your hoodie to generate more warmth. You were so torn. Most of you, wanted to wrap yourself up in him and give in to his offer while the ugly, nagging thoughts in your brain told you to run. "What about after we cool down then?" You asked, making one of his eyebrows feign to furrow. "Are you still going to be attracted to me after I'm… domesticated?"

He smiled slightly. "I'll probably be attracted to you even when your tits sag to your waist, baby." You rolled your eyes at his joke and he crossed the space between the two of you, shoes dragging against the cement. He pushed his fingers into your hair, settling his hand against your neck so his thumb brushed against your jaw soothingly. You leaned into his touch. "I just want to be locked down by you," he chided. "... Officially."

You let out a small wheeze. "You're not gonna be into my friends next week, are you?" It was a joke, but it came out as more of an insecurity.

He fought not to grin. "You're fuckin' serious?" He used his other hand to separate your arms gently, stepping into your embrace. "When I'm with other people, all I can think about is how they're not you."

He pressed a kiss to the corner of your mouth, eliciting a pleasant sigh from between your lips. You tightened your arms around him, basking in the warmth of his body as you threaded your hands beneath his jacket. "Even your mom?"

He snorted. "Don't make this weird," he jested, making you laugh softly. He pulled your body completely against him, digging his face into the crook of your neck as you sighed tiredly, your cheek pressing against his shoulder.

The bathwater was warm against your skin, Karl’s arm wrapping around your shoulder to pull you closer to him in the small tub, making you giggle slightly. You paused what you were doing as he dug his nose into the crook of your neck. You struggled to shrug from his grasp. “If you don’t stop, I’m gonna mess up your nails,” you wheezed, before he surrendered, leaning his back against the porcelain.

It was a brighter color than he usually wore, but the hue still gave him the dark appearance he prided himself on. Goosebumps peppered your skin as he drew absent-minded shapes into your back with the pad of his finger. “I missed you,” he hummed. Despite having your back to him and concentrating on not smearing his nail polish, you could hear the content smile in his voice. “And now, I’m your boyfriend,” he mocked, eliciting a snort from you.

You screwed the cap on the polish when you were satisfied with your work. “I feel like a middle school girl every time you say that,” you grumbled, jokingly.

He snickered. “Me too.” You could feel him watching you carefully as you blew on the nail polish, his fingers to your lips to test their dryness. He curled around you again, pressing his lips to your neck, his other arm curling around your torso. His breath was sweet against your skin, mixing with the steam from the water. “Stop it, or I’ll get too excited,” he groaned, making you smile.

You moved his hand to rest in the crook of your neck, fingers threatening to demonstrate his true strength. He swapped hands, his fingers dipping beneath the water towards your heat. His other hand wrapped around your neck, waiting for your first moans until applying pressure. Your head tilted back against his shoulder as he rubbed circles against your bundle of nerves, a sigh of pleasure spilling past your lips as his teeth nipped gently at your shoulders.

Your knees peeked out above the surface of the water as you leaned further back against him. He pressed his lips to the skin behind your ear. “Look at my girlfriend, so needy so quickly,” he moaned in your ear, slipping one of his fingers into you. His name fell from your lips as if your life depended on you repeating it. He pumped another finger into you, basking in the way you reacted to him. You hated how well he knew your body.

Before you knew it, your back was pressing into your sheets, Karl hovering over you. You dug your fingers into his hair, tugging lightly on his locks as he pushed himself into you with a moan. His hips rolled against yours, his forearms resting on either side of your head, pressing his lips to your shoulder. It wasn’t long until he was thrusting in and out of you, teeth printing his mark on your skin. “All mine,” he moaned as your fingernails pressed into his skin.

You smirked slightly, rutting your hips against his. “Oh, right there, Todd,” you moaned almost pornographically. Karl stiffened slightly, struggling not to laugh as you giggled.

His teeth dug into your neck, shutting you up with a moan. He pushed your hands above your head, intertwining his fingers with yours while his other hand moved to wrap around your throat. “He fucking wishes,” he hissed through gritted teeth, making your toes curl. His pace slowed, focused on driving himself deeper into you, reaching your sweet spot with each of his thrusts.

You moaned his name, pressing your lips to his shoulder as he dug his nose into the crook of your neck. He muttered pet names into your ear, coaxing you over the edge with his declarations of ownership over you.

The next morning, you wrapped your arms around Karl’s waist, pressing your cheek against the middle of his shoulder blades as he stirred whatever he was making. Your hands looped into the front pocket of his hoodie. The kitchen was humming with life as the radio hummed softly in one of the corners and the two of you lightly conversed.

You moved to lean against the counter beside him, attempting not to completely gush at the sight of his messy hair and lazy smile as he made you breakfast. “So, do I get to wear your letterman’s jacket now?” You joshed, making him smirk.

He flipped a pancake. “I mean, you can if you’d like, I think it’s at my mom’s,” he answered, soft tones of sleep still hanging in his voice. “You can twin with your pal, Todd. We went to the same high school.”

Your head tilted at the news, mouth slightly ajar. “No way. Please tell me you’re joking.”

He shrugged. “We lived down the road from each other growing up,” he recounted, making you chuckle at the irony.

You wet your lips slightly. “Now that we’re official, do you wanna have a threesome with him?” You asked sarcastically.

“If Todd’s dick comes anywhere near me, I’m moving to Iceland,” he finalized, making you laugh.

Tag List: @mrwinemaker @madsbbg @idiotinnit @xxtakechancesxx @chxrrymilkshake @westyywifee @kiritokunuwu @theholycakehole

#edgy!karl #edgy!karl jacobs #karl jacobs imagine #karl jacobs smut #karl jacobs x y/n #karl jacobs my beloved #karl jacobs x reader #karl jacobs x you #mcyt x y/n #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt x reader

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poisoned-peppermint · 3 years

Text

Part 4 of incorrect quotes because i feel obligated to make more due to the sheer number of people who liked it

Dream: My dearest beloved fuckos, is a fun, gender-neutral way to begin a speech

George: See also, esteemed bastards

Bad: Gentlefolk, Ferals, and Domesticated cryptids.

Sapnap: My fellow yees and haws

~~~~~~~

Techno:Hey I know skyrim is revered as a classic but are we just going to ignore the fact that the entire game only had like 3 voice actors

Wilbur:Stop right there criminal cum

Techno:My ancestors are smiling at me, bastard, can you say the same

~~~~~~~

Foolish:When's your bedtime :)

Purpled: Whenever I next collapse in purely up to the gods

~~~~~~

Ranboo:Human skin is a fursuit for skeletons

Tubbo: i’m going to debone you like a fucking trout

~~~~~~

Bad:You’re enough

Bad: love yourself!!!!!!! or suffer my wrath!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Dream:And by wrath I mean love!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Bad:no I mean wrath!!!!! You reading this, if you don't love yourself I’ll beat you with a stick!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

~~~~~~~

Bad:I hope everyone is today well! And tomorrow!!!! After that you’re on your own.

~~~~~~

Bad:what am I supposed to do all day while you’re at work

Skeppy:I don’t know, what do you normally do while I’m gone

Bad: wait for you to get back

~~~~~~

Velvet:For my next stunt, I’ll wake up at 5am on the day I can sleep in

Ant:Early to bed and early to rise makes a man healthy, wealthy and wise.

Velvet:Early to bed and early to rise makes me a massive bitch

~~~~~~

Tubbo: 3:23 AM make a wish

Ranboo: I wish that you would go to sleep

Tuddo: Yeah well I wish I grew an inch taller every day as you get an inch shorter until you’re as flat as as a piece of paper and I’m 11 feet tall

Ranboo: You’re going to die of a mixture of skeletal instability and heart disease.

Tubbo: Yeah but I’ll look good while doing it.

~~~~~~

Bad:Disrespect me again and I’ll determine your bodies resonant frequency and play a jaunty horn solo that boils your miserable organs inside out

~~~~~~

Quackity: If I were dating you? Well, heh. Let’s just say horses wouldn't be called horses anymore

Karl: hey what the honk does this mean…..I’m shaking what does this mean!

~~~~~~

Skeppy: Are you ok?

Bad wrapped in a burrito blanket drinking his 6th cup of coffee: Yes, this is exactly what mental stability looks like

~~~~~~

Sam: My hands are cold

Ponk: *holds their hands*

Ponk: better?

Sam: My lips are cold too

~~~~~~

George at dream’s funeral: can I have a moment alone with them?

Sapnap: of course *leaves*

George leaning over dream’s casket: Now listen, I know you’re not dead.

Dream: yeah no shit

~~~~~~

Skeppy, jokingly: I should have Bad kill you for that.

Bad, peering around the corner: Who do I need to kill?

Skeppy: Wh- no, I was just kidding around.

Bad, pulling out a switchblade: No, who’s bothering you

~~~~~~

Bad *watching the news*: Some idiot tried to fight a squid at the aquarium.

Skeppy *covered in ink*: Maybe the squirt was being a dick.

~~~~~~

Peacock: *spreads feathers at Bad*

Skeppy: It’s trying to attract a mate

Bad, extremely confused: *shyly lifts top*

Skeppy: No!

~~~~~~

Sapnap: Karl, do you eat olives? My dad wants to know

Karl: No, I hate olives. Olives are the spawn of satan. I hate olives so much my mom forced me to live in Mount olive for the rest of my childhood as a curse from the olive gods. Do you understand how much olives have ruined my life? I'm so offended that you asked me that have some consideration for people who have been abused by olives please!

Sapnap: K A R L ……….they’re just olives!!?

Karl: JUST OLIVES EXCUSE!

~~~~~~

Tommy: If you’re bored you can simply close your eyes and rotate a cow in your mind. It’s free and the cops can’t stop you

~~~~~~

Wilbur: is there anyone even named sheldon irl?

Tubbo: my class turtle from 6th grade :)

Wilbur: that’s a turtle

Tubbo: When god sings with his creations, will a turtle not be part of the choir?

~~~~~~

Ranboo: No bcuz why do ppl like salad?? What’s so good about it

Tubbo: chew leaf like god intended

Ranboo: No

Tubbo: Abandon god and see what he does next time you lift your hands in prayer

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Guys, there’s a monster under my bed and it’s really ugly.

Wilbur, on the bottom bunk: Honestly, fuck you.

~~~~~~

Quackity: So according to the cease and desist order I got, apparently you can’t ‘legally’ be a lawyer if your license is ‘cut out of a cereal box’.

~~~~~~

Puffy: If you had too, what would you give up food or sex?

Bad: Sex.

Skeppy: Seriously, answer faster.

Bad: I’m sorry honey, when they said sex I wasn’t thinking about sex with you.

Skeppy: It’s like a giant hug.

Puffy: Ant, what about you? What would you give up sex or food?

Ant: Food.

Puffy: Okay, how about sex or dinosaurs?

Ant: ……...Oh my God it’s like the movie Sophie’s Choice.

Gumi: What about you Velvet? What would you give up sex or food?

Velvet: Oh… um… I don’t know, it’s too hard.

Gumi: No, you gotta pick one.

Velvet: Um, food… no, sex… no, food…sex… food. Ugh! I don’t know! I want both! I- I want Antfrost on bread!

~~~~~~~

Tommy, holding a gun: If the conspiracies about life being a simulation are true WHOEVERS CONTROLLING MY SIM I JUST WANNA TALK.

~~~~~~~

Bad: Why are you guys acting like this?

Boomer: Oh, we’re not acting. We really are like this.

~~~~~~

Techno: Dream has only knocked me out three times this week. Our friendship is really developing.

~~~~~~

Tommy: You’re pathetic!

Wilbur: You’re pathetic-er!

Techno: You’re both losers.

~~~~~~

Bad: I wish I could help you, but I shorn’t.

Skeppy: Bad, please!

Bad: What part of shorn’t don’t you understand?

~~~~~~

Tubbo: Why did you leave Wrestlemania on for Michal?

Ranboo: They need to learn how to protect us.

~~~~~~

Antfrost: I regret getting dragged into your heterosexual tomfoolery.

~~~~~~

Bad: Strawberry milk doesn’t taste like strawberry OR milk.

Skeppy: Go the fuck to sleep Bad!

Bad: LANGUAGE!!

~~~~~~

Ranboo: Tubbo, please calm down.

Tubbo: I asked for two large fries!

Tubbo: *dumps fries onto table*

Tubbo: But all they did was give me a MILLION FUCKING LITTLE ONES!

~~~~~~

Bad: That was the worst throw ever. Of all time.

Skeppy: Not my fault. Somebody put a wall in the way.

~~~~~~

Wilbur: When you’ve been on the internet for as long as I have, you develop thick skin.

Tommy: Navy blue isn’t your color.

Wilbur: Navy blue brings out my eyes you prick! *Chases after Tommy*

~~~~~~

Bad: *Pulls a glass a water from out of nowhere*

Puffy: Where did you get that?.

Bad: My pocket.

Puffy: How do you keep a glass of water in your pocket?

Bad: Skills.

~~~~~~

Tubbo: I will come to your house after work and knock on your window at 11 AM. You will not open the curtains, knowing full well what awaits you, but the knocking only grows louder, more demanding. Finally it stops, your ears ringing. You nervously let out a breath you didn't know you were holding. You're safe now. Minutes pass by and you start to relax. And then you hear a knock at the front door. Like before, you stay still and clutch the blankets around you. You try to tell your self that it's just your imagination. Maybe the milk man? But why would he come so late? Everyone else was asleep, save for Naomi who was playing video games down stairs. To your relief, the knocking stops after a few. Minutes and you breath easy once more. Until you hear a knock on your bedroom door. You don't move. It's just your imagination. She isn't here. She can't be here. You tell yourself, shutting your eyes and willing yourself to sleep. The knock comes again, but with horror you realize that it came from the closet inside your room. You know that you have no choice. You get up, climbing out of bed with shaking limbs. You walk to the closest, trembling, and holding back the tears threatening to spill over your porcelain cheeks. You hesitate with your hand over the closet handle. Maybe it's just your imagination? She's not really there. You can go to sleep and laugh it off in the morning. Your naive thoughts are cut off by another, more demanding knock on the closet door, inches from your face. You know what you have to do. You open the closet door, and there she stands. Chuck e cheese, the mouse looms over you in the dim light. It's soulless eyes boor into you. It raises its arms, and you flinch as it begins to floss at lightning speed. Tears spill over your cheeks. This is the last thing you'll ever see.

Ranboo: Wait, Chuck e cheese’s pronouns are she/her? Trans Chuck e cheese? Good for her.

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Would you like something to drink? *They opened the fridge* We have water, milk, juice, spiders, Dr. Pepper-

Quackity: Spiders?

Bad: Spiders it is then.

Quackity: No, that wasn’t-

*But they were already pouring him a brimming glass of spiders…

~~~~~~

Puffy : Make her pussy wet not her eyes.

Velvet : Make his dick hard not his life.

Punz : Break her bed not her heart.

Skeppy : Play with his boobs not his feelings.

Ant : Get on his dick not his nerves.

Bad : Always salt your pasta while boiling it.

~~~~~~~

Wilbur: Bet you can’t eat 15 crayons!

Tommy: Bet you I can!

Phil: *sips coffee, checks to make sure 911 is still on speed dial, and goes back to reading the paper*

~~~~~~~

Ant: We need a way to lure in new customers?

Ponk: Maybe we could have some fun, interactive events!

Skeppy: Badboyhalo bath water.

Bad: ABSOLUTELY NOT!

~~~~~~~~

Fundy: GET BACK HERE YOU DUMB FUCK!

Wilbur: LET ME RUN FROM THE CONSEQUENCES OF MY ACTIONS!

~~~~~~~~

Bad: Mint is just cold spicy.

Pummel party Squad: …

Gumi: What the actual fuck is wrong with you.

~~~~~~~~

Quackity: Isn’t it amazing how I can feel so bad and still look so good?

~~~~~~~

Tommy: Why does my arm shake and turn bright red when I’m eating dirt?

Phil:

Phil: Why are you eating dirt?

Tommy: Did I ask you if I should eat dirt? No, so answer my question.

~~~~~~~

Tubbo: I wish I could control wasps and bees to sting my enemies.

Quackity: You’re too young to have enemies.

Tubbo: You don’t even know.

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Is there a cactus where your heart should be?

Puffy: What’s up your ass this morning!

Bad: *walks in* …Hi!!

Puffy: Hmm… nevermind.

Skeppy: WAIT NO!

~~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Ha! Don’t you know the trappers trap can trap the trapper?

Skeppy: I must be losing it, I’m quoting Bad.

~~~~~~~

Skeppy: Bad, I sense hostility.

Bad: Good, because I hate you

~~~~~~~

Bad: Are you a painting?

Skeppy: What-?

Bad: Because I want to pin you to a wall.

Skeppy: OH GOD I THOUGHT YOU WERE GOING TO SAY YOU WANTED TO HANG ME OR SOMETHING-

~~~~~~

Tommy: You’re giving me a sticker?

Phil: Not just a sticker. That is a sticker of a kitty saying “me-wow!”

Tommy: I’m not a preschooler.

Phil: Fine, I’ll take it back-

Tommy: I earned this, back off!

~~~~~~

Dream, sweating: George, there’s something I need to ask you-

George: Finally! You’re proposing!

Dream: How’d you know?

George: Dream, you’ve dropped the ring five times during dinner.

George: I even picked it up once

~~~~~~~~

*Bad and Skeppy looking at a locked gate into a park*

Bad: Aw. :(

Skeppy: You know what they say.

Bad: Please don’t-

Skeppy: BE GAY DO CRIME! *hops gate*

Bad: Frick-

~~~~~~~~

let me know if ya’ll want more <3

299 notes · View notes

viking-raider · 3 years

Text

Southern Generation - Part III *Mature*

Summary: Sy and Lily had a harmonious bubble around them, but ripples are sent through it, with an action of Lily’s and the past haunting Austin.

Pairing: Captain Syverson/Reader

Word Count: 6,211

Warning: M - Language, Fluff, Domestic Kink, PTSD, Attempted Overdose, Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Teeny White Lie, Stalking and Harassment

Inspiration: It’s Sy, need I say more?

Author’s Note: Loving this story! Much love to @wondersofdreaming!

Lily laughed as she played tug-a-war with Aika in the living room, the sound of Sy putting up the last of the siding vibrated throughout the house, with her laughs and Aika's playful growling. The hammering stopped and Sy appeared through the front door, smiling at the two partners in crime.

“I need to go into town.” Sy told Lily, when her attention settled onto him. “The saw blade has dulled and I need to replace it.” He explained to her.

“All right.” She nodded, letting Aika take her rope. “I need to get lunch going.”

“I shouldn't be too long.” He promised, then left.

Sy wasn't gone a minute, when the phone rang in the kitchen and Lily moved to pick it up, before she missed it. “Hello?” She answered, pressing the receiver to her ear with her shoulder and turned towards the refrigerator. “Hello?” She frowned, pulling out food items for her and Sy's lunch.

“How's the business going?” A voice finally answered her.

Lily froze, hand resting on the loaf of bread she was reaching for. “How did you get this number?” She gulped, her heart racing and pounding in her ears.

“I bet once that caveman finishes fixing up the place, it'll look brand new.”

“Ho-” She gasped, a dizzying wave of nausea punched her in the gut, as reality set in.

“Soon, Lily. Soon.” The voice chuckled, then the line went dead.

The phone slipped off of Lily's shoulder and clattered to the floor, alerting Aika, who was chewing on her rope in the living room, and came running in, barking in inquiry and suspicion, standing close to Lily's feet and looked up at her, head cocked to the side. Lily gripped the edge of the counter in front of her, trying to take deep breaths in and out, but her vision swam with an overflow of tears and her chest felt like an elephant was standing on it. She turned and stumbled up the staircase in the kitchen that led upstairs, and went into the hall bathroom, locking herself inside, Aika bounding after her and barking at the bathroom door.

“How? How is this possible?” She trembled, pacing the small space. “I was so careful, so careful. It’s not possible. It’s just a sick joke, from some disgruntled customer. But, what if it isn’t? What if it’s really. Where did I go wrong? I put so many miles between us.”

Her hands shook and she struggled to breath, furious tears streaming down her flushed cheeks. Flashback after flashback rippling through her horrified and panicked mind, her stomach lurched and she dropped to her knees, wrenching violently into the bowl and losing her breakfast into it. She sat there for a long time, before making up her mind, standing up and opening the medicine cabinet, removing a prescription bottle from inside and popped the top off of it. She knew this was a drastic and dark turn to things as she dumped the bottle into her hand, but it wasn’t as dark and ominous, if the voice on the other end of the phone kept their word about finding her, and Lily wasn’t going to take that chance.

She gulped down dozens of the teeny pills, swallowing them down with sink water, then slowly sank down to the floor.

Sy returned twenty minutes later, with a new saw blade and rumbling stomach. He expected, as always, to find Lily had set his lunch down on the table in the breakfast nook, and was either eating hers as well, or she was patiently waiting for him, so they could eat together.

Instead, he entered the house and heard Aika barking incessantly upstairs, which was unusual.

“Lily!” He called out, rounding into the kitchen, finding lunch foods on the counter, some half opened, and the phone on the floor. “Lily!” He yelled out again, a pit forming in his stomach as he mounted the stairs to the second floor.

He had never been upstairs before, everything he needed in the house was downstairs, the kitchen and half bath, so he was unfamiliar with the layout. But, as he reached the second floor landing, he found Aika standing in front of a closed door, barking, whining and scratching at the wood. He crossed the hall and lifted his hand, knocking softly on the door, and listening inside.

“Lily?” He called, knocking again. “Lily, are you all right in there?” He asked, growing even more concerned, when he didn't receive an answer.

Not waiting a moment longer, Sy pushed Aika away from the door and forced it open with his shoulder. As the door flung open and banged against the wall behind it, Sy rushed into the room and felt his heart plummet out of his body, finding Lily laying on the worn and discolored tile floor. He dropped to his knees as he scrambled over to her, cupping her cold, but sweaty, face in his hands, her eyes were rolled back and half lidded, her breathing was shallow and the scent of vomit permeated in the small space. Sy, despite his heart rocketing in his chest, was reasonably calm, his combat cool kicking in, as he quickly pressed his fingers to the spot under the corner of her jaw, feeling how faint her heartbeat was.

“Shit.” He snapped, under his breath, scanning the room, he found a prescription bottle that had rolled under the lip of the vanity, swiped it up and pocketed it. “Lily.” He called, patting her pale cheeks, trying to get any response out of her. “Come on, Lily. Answer me.” He begged her, patting her cheeks a little harder. “What were you thinking.” He growled, then rubbed his knuckles against her sternum in firm circles.

“Oh, thank god.” He sighed, when she whimpered at the painful rub. “Lily, open your eyes and look at me. Come on, darling, look at me.” He coaxed her, rubbing her chest again, but not with his knuckles, just trying to keep her responsive.

“Sy.” She whimpered, eyes fluttering.

“Yeah, love.” He nodded, shifting to pick her up into his arms and carried her out of the bathroom and down the stairs. “Don't worry, honey, I've got you. I'll take care of you and get you to the hospital.” He told her, carrying her out to his truck and got her strapped into the passenger seat, before hopping in and gunning it down the driveway, relieved at his slight laziness, that he left the gate wide open.

“Come on, Lily. Talk to me.” He told her, reaching out to squeeze her shoulder as she whined and pressed her forehead against the window. “Tell me something, anything.”

“I wanna sleep.” She whimpered, brows creased.

“No, no, you can't do that.” Sy shook his head at her, pulling her away from the window. “What color do you want me to paint the house?” He asked, trying to think of anything to keep her engaged long enough to get her to the emergency room.

“What about purple, with hot pink polka dots?” He grinned, blue eyes light up, but still scared for her.

“I hate pink.” Lily whined, her head moving to rest on Sy's broad and stiff shoulder.

“So, pink polka dots.” He said in a voice that said he agreed with the choice.

“No.” She groaned, shaking her head with a whimper, then fell quiet again.

“No, no! Come on, Lily, don't fall asleep.” He begged her, feeling her body relax against him.

The tires of Sy's truck squealed as he parked outside the hospital, pulling Lily out, he quickly carried her into the emergency room, his usual 'cool under pressure' attitude was starting to slip with the desperate situation. The nurse at the station instantly noticed Sy carrying Lily in and read how bad the situation was, jumping out of her seat and barking orders, while guiding Sy to a place he could lay her down and they could start working on her.

“What happened?” She asked Sy.

“I'm pretty sure she overdosed on these.” Sy replied, taking the prescription bottle out of his pocket and handed it to her. “I don't know why she decided to do it, I just found her unresponsive on the bathroom floor. She was responsive for a few minutes, but then stopped just before we got here.”

“How do you know her?” The nurse asked, reading the name off the bottle.

Sy bit his lip, he knew if he admitted that he only worked for Lily as a handyman, then they wouldn't let him see her until after they had done everything they could for her. So, he fibbed. “She's my fiancée.” He told her, his voice steady and his face gave away nothing, but his concern for her.

“So, her name is Lily Ana Moore?” The nurse asked, reading the name off the prescription label.

“Yes, ma'am.” Sy nodded, though he wasn't aware of her middle name.

“And, you are?” She asked, looking up at him.

“Austin Syverson.” He replied, glancing over to Lily's bed as she whimpered.

“We'll take the best care for her, Mr. Syverson.” the Nurse promised him, resting a gentle hand on his forearm and gave it a tender squeeze.

They tended to Lily, while Sy stepped out into the waiting room, he was too high strung and agitated to sit down, so he paced from the humming vending machine and the automatic doors. His mind roiled over reasons and scenarios as to why Lily would try to overdose. She had been fine, before he left to the hardware store for a new saw blade, playing tug-a-war with Aika and about to make them lunch. What could have happened in the, maybe, fifteen minutes he was away, that was so frightening that she would rather take her life, than to either face it or tell him about it. If she had said something to him, told him that she was afraid of something, or someone, then he would have promised to protect her.

In a heartbeat.

“I’ll protect her from now on.” He muttered to himself, still pacing the room.

Once they were satisfied with how stable she was, then sent her up to a private room for an overnight observation, Sy stayed with her the whole time, never leaving her side, even once she was stable and in her room. He sat in a chair beside her bed, chin resting on his chest as he snored softly, the room was dark and quiet, minus the heart monitor she was hooked up too. It was late, when Lily did finally come back around on her own, sighing and whimpering, her body feeling spent and sluggish. She opened her eyes and instantly recognized she wasn't in her own bed, but a strange room, and panic started to set it, causing her to wake Sy.

“Hey.” He sighed, rubbing his tired face and leaning forward to take her hand in his. “You're all right, Lily.” He told her, his voice rough from sleep.

“Where am I?” She asked, squeezing his hand, like it was a lifeline, calm now that she realized Sy was there, watching over her.

“The hospital.” He replied, thumb rubbing the top of her hand. “I barely managed to get you here, after that stunt you pulled.”

She let out a heavy breath and rested back against her pillow, squeezing her eyes shut. “I'm sorry, Sy.” She whispered, not opening her eyes again. “I didn't mean to scare you.”

“And what did you mean to do?” He asked, lifting a brow at her. “Why would you try killing yourself?”

“It's complicated.” She replied, sighing again and opening her eyes.

“Then, uncomplicate it.” Sy begged her, wanting to understand what she was thinking.

“I can't.” Lily shook her head, the fear that had gripped her before her attempt started to return.

Sy could feel the tremble in her hand as it gripped his, he knew there was something she was afraid of, that she was trying to run and hide from, and wanted to help her so much, to protect her, so badly. He got up out of his chair and sat on her bedside, holding her hand in his lap and gently brushed his fingers against her cheek.

“You don't have to be afraid.” He whispered, gently. “I promise, I will protect you.”

“Don't make a promise, you can't keep, Austin.” Lily replied, meeting his eye.

“I can, and I will.” Sy replied, his stomach twitched, hearing her use his first name. “Is there anything I can do for you?” He asked, lifting a brow at her.

Lily paused a moment, regarding him, then bit her lip. “Lay with me?” She whispered, gulping at the strangeness of her own request.

Sy blinked at her for a moment, it was a bit of an odd request, but, if that's what she wanted of him, then Sy would gladly do it. He nodded, feeling slightly awkward, then toed out of his boots, while she shifted and turned onto her side, so Sy had room to lay down with her. He let her shift, her back pressing against his chest, and tucked his arm under her head, gently pulling the blankets over them and resting his other arm over her side.

“This must be awkward for you.” She mumbled, a few minutes later.

“Actually, it's not.” He chuckled back, his breath lightly caressing the back of her hair. “The most awkward thing that I've ever done, happened on my very first deployment to Iraq.”

Lily turned her head to look back over at him. “Tell me about it?”

Sy smiled at her, biting his lip. “So, it was my first deployment, back in 2004, I had been in the country a week, but hadn't left base yet in that time.” He started to explain to her. “So, my first outing off the base was a decent distance, and at some point, I ended up needing to go to the restroom.”

She laughed, starting to get the picture, making Sy smile.

“Now, I wasn't naive. I knew there wasn't a bathroom for several klicks, and I doubted any of the locals were going to let my ass in to use their bathroom.” He laughed, making them both shake from its mirth. “So, I asked my commander, cause then, I was just some lowly runt, where I could go. He walked away for a moment and came back, carrying a short handled shovel, handed it to me and said, 'pick a spot.' motioning to the wide open field we were in.”

“Oh lord, no.” She grinned, blushing at the thought of digging a random hole and going in it. “Tell me you didn't!”

“Of course, I did!” He grinned back. “I really had to go, and I wasn't holding it for another hour on patrol and three hours back. So, I dug a hole, dropped my cameos and did my business, with six guys, more or less, watching me.”

“Watching you?”

“Well, they had to make sure no one snuck up on me, and tried to kill me.” He chuckled, fully amused.

“You're braver than I am.” Lily said, after they stopped laughing. “I would have held it.” She giggled, shaking her head at the thought, relaxing in his arms.

“I think that makes you much braver.” Sy whispered, feeling the change in her breathing against the skin of his bicep as she drifted back off to sleep. “So much braver.”

“Sy, you can't sleep on the couch like this.” Lily sighed, finding him on the couch in the living room.

Ever since she returned home from the hospital, Sy insisted on sleeping on the couch, not wanting to leave her alone in the house. She had tried convincing him that she was all right, that he didn't need to sleep there and keep an eye on her.

“You should go home to Austin, sleep in your own bed.” She told him, handing him a cup of fresh coffee.

“I haven't slept in my own bed, in nearly a month.” Sy replied, taking several deep gulps of the hot brew.

“What?” Lily snapped, sitting down beside him, with a cup of tea. “Still!”

“I told you, I've been sleeping at the motel in Celina.” He confessed to her. “I've been too tired most nights to safely drive back to Austin, and it's only a couple minutes from here, instead of three hours.” He told her, rubbing a hand over his face.

“And I told you, you didn't need too, Sy?” Lily sighed, annoyed with him.

“Because, you would have wanted to pay for it.” He countered.

“No, I would have given you the guest room upstairs, like I said.” She countered back, lifting a brow at him. “And, if you insist on staying here, then I suggest you take the room, instead of the couch, so at least then, you can stretch out and not wake up all stiff and uncomfortable.” She told him, firmly.

“Especially, since Aika seems to enjoy sleeping with you.”

Lily had come downstairs at night, several times, to find Sy's long body stretched out on the couch, his head resting on one armrest, while his feet hung over the other one, and Aika's large body laid on top of him, like some sort of furry blanket.

“I've already made it up for you.” She added, getting back up and going into the kitchen.

Sy got up and followed her, setting his coffee down on the breakfast nook table. “Lily-”

“We both know, you're not going to leave me alone in the house, Austin.” Lily huffed, yanking open the refrigerator door. “So, there's no use for your additional discomfort, by sleeping on a couch that has zero support or comfort, especially after you've spent all day breaking your back to fix up my property.” She explained to him, pulling out a carton of eggs and milk, before letting the door of the original Big Chill refrigerator slam shut behind her.

“There's a comfortable bed in the guestroom, that's situated against the window, with a small walk-in closet and dresser, as well as being across from the hallway bathroom. As I said, I made the bed up for you, clean sheets and pillowcases. I opened the window as well, to air it out, since it's usually closed up and unused.” She explained to him, pulling out a pan and setting it on the stove, clicking on the gas burner.

“I do need to warn you, that the hot water tap in the upstairs bathroom, doesn't work.”

“Is there something wrong with the hot water heater?” Sy asked, lifting a brow at her.

“Not that I'm aware of, but I also don’t know crap about them, so I wouldn't know where to look or how to fix it, without replacing the thing completely. But, I don't think there is a problem with it.”

“Why's that?”

“Because, the hot water in all the sinks work, and the hot water in my master bathroom works as well.” She explained to him, whipping up a pancake batter, while the pan heated up. “I just don't understand why the hot water in that particular bathroom doesn't work.”

“Has it worked at any point, while you lived here?” Sy asked, watching her.

Lily paused and sighed, her brow creasing as she stared off in the middle distance for a moment, trying to recall. “I don't think so.” She finally replied, going back to the batter.

“Hm.” Sy frowned, his own brow deeply creased as he mauled over the numerous reasons the hot water wouldn't work. “I'll check it after breakfast.” He answered, pressing his lips together. “Do you need any help?” He asked, watching her fuss over the rest of breakfast.

“Yeah, can you flip the pancakes for me.” She nodded, side stepping the stove, so he could flip them.

Sy nodded, taking up the rubber spatula she was using and gripped the handle of the pan, carefully working the edge of the spatula around the sides of the bubbling pancake, before slipping it under and flipped it, quite unsuccessfully, splattering half cooked batter all over the pan. Lily saw it from the corner of her eye and laughed, shaking her head at him.

“Have you never flipped a pancake before, Captain?” She teased, turning to face him.

“I have, I'm just shit at it.” He replied, grinning at her, but Lily could see the warmth seeping into his hairy cheeks.

“Here.”

Lily stepped between Sy and the stove, gripping his hand, that still held the utensil, and guided him to the other pancake in the pan, gently slipping the edge of the spatula under it, and with a quick flick of their wrists, she helped him flip over the pancake, perfectly.

“See?” She smiled up at him, her blue eyes filled with pride. “You just have to do it quick and steady, like ripping off a plaster.” She picked up the batter and poured some of it into the sizzling pan. “Give it a minute, then try flipping it again.”

With that, she turned back to what she was doing, dicing up some potatoes. “Look at you!” She exclaimed, watching Sy's smooth pancake flip.

“You're a good teacher.” He smiled at her, setting the finished pancakes on a plate beside the stove.

“Would you like bacon or sausage?” She asked, opening the refrigerator again, turning her head to look at him, a brow lifted in curiosity.

Sy licked his lips and got a funny feeling in his stomach, something he had never felt before, not even as a young boy. He felt like he—belonged, here and now, with Lily. It was a natural feeling of domestic belonging, like there was a oneness between them and he had found his rightful place in the world.

“Sy?” Lily frowned at him, concerned.

She saw that far off look in his eye and worried he was having a flashback. She had seen him have them before, and after the first one, where he nearly took her head off, Lily learned not to touch Sy, calling his name, usually, did the trick of bringing him back around. But, this time was different, there was a sparkle in his cerulean eyes, and a soft smile on his lips.

“Austin?” She said, carefully, licking her lips and feeling butterflies in her stomach.

Sy blinked several times and focused on her, smiling completely, warm and happy. “Sausage, please.” He finally replied, cocking his head at her.

“Okay.” Lily nodded back, eyes wide like a doe's. “Why don't you sit down and relax, I can finish up.” She suggested, motioning to the table. “Your coffee is getting cold.”

“Sure.”

He kept smiling at her, even as he sat down at the table and sipped his cooling coffee; watching her drop the finely diced potatoes into the pan, stirring them around as they cooked and browned, before cracking three eggs on the edge of the pan and dumped the contents in with the potatoes, then tossed the shells into the empty bowl the pancake batter was in. She kept stirring the browned potatoes and fluffy eggs together, then added sliced up sausage. Finishing it up, she brought the food to the table and Sy served himself, heaping the potato, egg and sausage scramble onto his plate with four large pancakes, drizzling maple syrup everywhere. Lily picked Sy's now empty coffee cup up and filled it with fresh coffee, putting in two sugars and set it back down in front of his plate.

“You know how I take my coffee.” He asked, digging his fork into his mountain of food.

“I've known you for several months at this point, so, it's only natural that I've noticed things about you.” She chuckled, sitting down and making her own plate for breakfast.

“Fair enough.” He laughed, and got down to eating.

After breakfast, and helping Lily wash and dry the dishes, Sy went upstairs to the hallway bathroom to try and figure out why the hot water wasn't coming out of the tap. He tested it, spinning the hot tap all the way over, water jetting out of the shower head. He left it running for several long minutes, touching it periodically, and only found it to be even colder than when it first came out. Pressing his lips together and sighing through his nose, Sy turned the tap off and went downstairs to his truck, taking out the tool box from the back and carried it back inside, removing the faucet cover and checked the valve. He removed the tap handle, unscrewed the plate and reached inside for the valve, finding it was broken.

“There you are, you pesky little shit.” He said, setting it on the sink counter. “I need a new one.” He sighed. “Lily.” He called out, going down the hall to her office.

“Sy?” She called back, her eyes still on the work on her computer screen.

“I found the problem with the shower in the hall bath.” He told her, standing in the office doorway. “I'm going to go down to the hardware store to get a replacement part for it.” He explained, looking her over as she sat cross legged in her office chair.

“Will you be okay, while I'm gone?” He asked, his tone careful.

Lily's shoulders slumped and she looked over at him. “I'll be fine, Austin.” She told him, slightly annoyed with him being so overprotective, though she appreciated it and felt incredibly safe with him around. “Go, and if you remember, can you bring me back some Reese cups?” She asked, as he turned to leave.

“I've got a mad chocolate craving going on.”

“A hot shower and chocolate coming up.” He grinned at her, and left for the store. “Keep an eye on her, Aika.” He whispered to the pup as she laid spread out on the front porch, enjoying the warm rays of the sun; patting her on the head.

Aika huffed at him, before getting up and strolling inside, climbing the stairs and wandering into Lily's office, then laid down at her feet, dropping back off to sleep. Lily smiled down at her, bending in her chair to pat her between her proudly standing ears, then returned to her work. Sy returned an hour later, with four packages of king sized Reese Cups and the replacement hot water valve.

“Christ.” Lily laughed, when he set the candy down in front of her. “Did you buy the store out?” She teased, looking up at him.

“Actually,” Sy grinned brazenly at her. “I did. It was all they had in the little corner store, next to the hardware store.” He confessed, he thought it would be funny to buy them all, and one can never have enough chocolate.

“Thank you.” She giggled, opening one of them up, amused by his sense of humor and popped one into her mouth..

“You're welcome.” Sy nodded his head to her, butterflies filling his stomach hearing her laugh, making her laugh, and gulped as he watched her take the candy whole into her mouth, feeling something stir much lower than his stomach, before turning and going back to fix the shower.

“Is it working?” Lily asked, a little while later, coming into the bathroom to watch him work.

“See for yourself.” Sy replied, turning the tap on and stepping aside.

Lily stepped forward and held her hand out under the streaming water, feeling the pleasant warmth of it. She looked over her shoulder at Sy and smiled at him, proud and amazed. “That's amazing! Is there anything you can't fix?” She asked, drying her hand on the towel hanging on the rack.

“Oh, I'm sure there is.” Sy smiled, leaning back against the vanity. “But, if I encounter it, I'm sure I could figure it out.”

“I'm sure you would.” Lily smiled, patting him on the chest as she went out of the bathroom.

Sy beamed with pride, seeing how happy and proud of him she was, her gentle pat only re-enforcing that fact.

Later that night, Sy took the duffle bag he had filled with his clothing and other things he needed, upstairs to Lily's offered guestroom. It was a sweet little room, the window let in a lot of light during the day and he could see Billie Marlowe's crops and the beautiful night sky as he laid in bed. The dresser was big enough for all his things. He toed out of his boots and sat down on the edge of the bed, then laid back. It was a comfortable bed, more comfortable than the couch and the bed in the motel room he had been renting.

Satisfied, Sy stood, pulled out a pair of shorts and a black tank top, with a bar of soap, and crossed the hall to the bathroom.

He stood under the hot spray of the shower head, letting it seep into his tired and sore body for a while, before soaping up his body, head to toe, rinsed and dressed, before stepping out of the steamy bathroom. He paused in the hall and turned his head, Lily's room was at the end of the hall, the staircase leading into the kitchen between them, and her door was closed. But, he could hear the soft creaks of her moving about her room, no doubt doing the similar ritual he was, before going off to sleep.

Sighing, he went into his room, leaving the door cracked open for Aika to come in and out, and crawled into bed, the washed sheets and quilt smelled just like Lily, and he couldn't suppress the moan that escaped from deep in his throat, pressing the quilt to his nose and inhaling deeply. She smelled amazing, he wondered what her skin smelled like, before drifting off.

Lily wasn't sure what time it was, when she first heard it. At first, she thought it was just part of the dream she was having, but as it came more regularly, she realized it wasn't in her dream, but in the house. Her eyes opened, blinking in the darkness of her room as she laid still in bed, listening intently.

Yes, it was real and in the house, but what was it?

Shaking her head, she threw her blankets back and got out of bed, tiptoeing to her closed door and pressed her ear to the wood. It was a loud whimper, followed by a whine, with other noises mixed in. Daring to open her door, she stepped out into the hall and slowly followed the noise, down to Sy's room. She pushed open his half open door and peeked inside, Aika was sitting on the side of the bed, whining as she looked up at Sy, who was laying on his back, sweaty brow deeply creased and shaking his head, like he was trying to wake himself up, to no avail.

“Move.” He called out, body jerking. “Tristan.” He yelled out, then whined.

“Sy.” She called out to him, standing in the doorway. “Sy, wake up.”

But, he didn't.

Biting her lip, and stepping into the fray, Lily moved to the side of the bed, her stomach clenched as she sat down beside him, waiting for him to suddenly lunge at her, but he didn't. Her heart was pounding as she reached out and gently wiped away the heavy sweat on his brow, he made a sound, between a sigh and a growl as she did, his hands coming up, but fell back to the bed, before reaching her. She frowned at him, stroking the side of his face, his hair was slightly longer than it had been, when he first came. He usually kept it very short, but with her going into the hospital, he had neglected cutting it.

She touched the side of his head, feeling the soft hair just above his ear, then petting down his neck and cupping his cheek.

“It's all right.” She cooed at him in a soft and silky voice. “Ssshh, it's all right.” She spoke to him softly, caressing his bearded cheek with her thumb and rubbed his chest through the thin black material of his tank top.

Sy's wide and alarmed eyes shot open and he snapped upright, gasping for air and shaking, but he didn't lash out at her, like he had on the porch that day. She bit her lip, watching this bear of a man tremble, struggling to control his breathing and so frightened. Lily laid her hand on his tense shoulder, giving it a gentle squeeze; Sy's head snapped to the side, looking at her, but not quite seeing her, but the face of the teammate he had been calling out for, one of the first men Sy had ever lost in combat.

“Lily.” He whispered, in a disembodied voice. “What are you doing here?” He asked, suddenly sounding alarmed and panicked, his sweaty body rigid. “It’s not safe, you have to leave, before more of them show up.” He told her, his voice still sounding discorporated.

“Who, Austin?” Lily frowned, shaking her head at him, not understanding what he was talking about. “Who’s coming?”

Sy’s vision hyper-focused on the small gap between them, twitching quickly side to side, like he was trying to reconnect unplugged wires in his jumbled up and confused mind, struggling to remember if he was in reality with Lily or in the nightmare of a long ago mission in Iraq that had gone bad for everyone involved, changing Sy forever, the first hung thread in a thick web of PTSD and flashbacks. But, the gentle touch of Lily’s hands on him, the soft whisper of his name in her voice, the close warmth of her body and her sweet smell gave Sy the traction he needed to pull himself back to reality and consciousness.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, biting his lip, self-conscious. “I didn’t mean to wake you.”

“It’s all right.” She replied, then wrapped her arms around him, hugging him against her and rubbing his back. “It's okay, Austin.” She whispered into his ear as he buried his face into her neck. “You're okay. Safe and sound, back home, and with me.” She told him, closing her eyes as his arms wrapped around her waist and he clutched her against his sweaty and shaking body.

“I've got you, Austin.” She assured him and rested her cheek against his temple, tenderly rubbing the back of his head. “I won't let anything happen.”

Sy nuzzled his face into her neck, taking deep breaths to calm himself down and took in the comforting scent of her skin as he did, it helped him relax, as did the soft words she whispered into his ear and the soothing touch of her hand on his head or on his back. He didn't want to let her go, afraid that as soon as he did, she would fade away and the nightmares would come back, having only tricked him into thinking it was her.

Even though her heart thundered in her chest, she made a choice. “Come on, Austin.” She said into his ear, patting him on the back and wiggling in his arms, trying to entice him to let her go, so she could stand up.

“Where?” He whimpered into her neck.

She licked her lips. “Come to bed with me.” She told him, her lips brushing the rim of his earlobe. “Let me hold you and keep the nightmares away.”

Sy moaned softly into her ear, but his arms secured themselves around her waist, shifting her into his lap and stood, picking her up, still very unwilling to let her go, even for the minute it would take to go down to her room. So, he carried her down the hall and laid down in her bed, only then, letting her go long enough for her to cover them up and lay down beside him. Sy turned onto his side, wrapping his arms around her and hugged her against his body, his head laying on her chest.

Lily frowned, sympathetically, down at Sy, caressing his head, neck and shoulders, whispering soft things to him, soothing and lulling him back to sleep, with the pound of her heart in his ear and the pillow-y warmth of her skin and breasts under his head.

“My sweet bear.” She cooed at his sleeping form, then kissed the top of his head.

#Henry Cavill #HenryCavill #Southern Generation #Southern Generation *fic*#viking-raider fics #captain syverson #Syverson #Austin Syverson #Syverson/OFC #Syverson x OFC #Sand Castle #Lily #Hurt/Comfort #PTSD #Domestic Kink #Language #Fluff #Angst

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free-pancakes · 3 years

Note

Ok this is super cheesy but here goes; hanji: "you don't look like a professional criminal" levi: "oh sorry, let me go make myself look like Hannibal lector or something" sorry its rlly cheap but I wanna see some sort of crime au or whatever. Love ur drabbles btw! Keep it up! :)

oh gosh anon, this has been sitting in my inbox for months, i'm so sorry! might be a lil boring, but! i'm all for stupid levihan banter and it made me really happy to write this :) hope u like it!

Under the cover of night, a hooded figure crept through darkness. On the security cameras, it was nothing but a questionable shadow—blink once and it was gone. That’s how it always went.

“What the—“

Reiner turned, peering down the outdoor alleyway. His fellow security guard was no longer standing under a small lamp hanging above the corner of the building.

“B-Bertholdt?” he called?

Before Reiner could call out once more, he heard a voice whispering behind him into his right ear.

“If you open the door, I’ll let you off easy.”

Eyeing the crowbar on the ground, Reiner reached quickly. But he was too late—a hand grabbed him by the forearm. He struggled and was quickly brought to the ground.

“How could someone so small bring me down so fast??” he thought. Before he could even elbow back, he felt a needle sink into his neck, and he yelled out.

The hooded figure stood up.

“Just a small sedative—don’t worry. You won’t remember that a guy half your size took u down in less than...” He peered at his wristwatch—“20 seconds.”

As the hooded teen stood up, a small buzz vibrated in his pocket.

He unlocked his phone, the glow lighting up his face, the dark circles under his eyes now looking much more prominent.

A text from Erwin: “Levi, thermal imaging shows no one else in the building. Meet back with Nanaba in an hour.”

Levi shoved his phone back into his pocket, and got to work. He lifted a limp Reiner off the ground and dragged his arm up to the sensor, pressing his thumb against the fingerprint scanner—“Access Granted” blinked on the small screen as he heard the little click of the door unlocking from the inside. He dusted his hands off on his grey denim jeans, and crept inside.

The slight squeaking of his sneakers on the metal floor panels echoed as he searched for the room he was looking for. On his way he saw a pair of glasses resting on a side table at the end of a hallway, which he found quite strange—who’d just forget their glasses? Erwin confirmed no one else was around. After a few seconds, he decided to shrug it off.

Finally, he reached the last door in the winding hallway. Shining a special penlight, he watched as fingerprints appeared on the keypad on the doorknob, and once he figured out his code, he punched it in with the end of his penlight, and he was in.

Levi breathed a sigh of relief, and pulled down his hood. His least favorite part of the job—he had always been more of the fighter of their team, the brawn, not exactly the brains. But Mike made sure he learned how to break into computer systems, and Levi absolutely hated that process, with Mike’s constant teasing at how dense his brain was to this stuff. Levi grumbled as he sat down, figuring his way in.

Maybe 10 minutes passed, and he continued to struggle figuring his way through the complicated firewalls. In frustration he buried his head into hands for a few seconds, and took a deep breath. Before he could look back up, he suddenly felt a hand pat his back encouragingly.

“There, there, you almost got it!”

Completely startled, Levi jumped up, knocking down the chair he was sitting on and assumed a fighting stance, fists up beside his face. He was caught off guard and completely unprepared: he had no more sedative syringes left, no other weapons on hand. He stared at the person who stood before him, probably the same age as him—no more than 19—a smile on their face, brown hair falling out of the poor hair tie trying to hold the mess up, a can of soda in their right hand and a small bag of chips in their left and— they were wearing the same pair of glasses he saw outside?

His mind raced.

How did they sneak in without him noticing just now? Why are they holding snacks in their hands? Why in God’s name were they smiling at him? And most importantly, they were wearing those glasses, so they had to have been around when a Erwin did the thermal scan—how did they manage to go undetected??

Obnoxious crunching roused him from his thoughts. Mouth full of half-chewed chips, they answered: “Oh! Yes! My friend Moblit and I managed to invent this little guy help us evade thermal scanners! No one knows we’ve been spending nights here for years!” They said as they pointed down to a small metal band around their ankle.

Levi was so shocked, he didn’t even realized he said that last thought out loud. He didn’t know what to do exactly, but they didn’t… seem like a threat…

Levi grumbled, and returned to his work, and she blabbered on and on about how their “cooling band” or whatever the hell they called it work as he kept trying to break through the firewall. He almost regretted not tying them up and slapping tape over their mouth so he could concentrate—the next comment was the last straw.

“You’re pretty scrawny, I was quite shocked when I watched you take down those 2 buffoons that call themselves security guards. You know… you don't look like a professional criminal!”

Levi almost threw the keyboard against the wall.

“Oh sorry, let me go make myself look like Hannibal Lector or something, Four-Eyes!”

They smiled.

“Wow, a nickname! So we’re friends already, Levi!”

Levi paused, “…How did you know my name?”

“It’s right here! Levi Ackerman… Address: 126—“ they listed off as they read off the driver’s license ID they pulled out of his wallet.

Levi snatched his wallet back. “When the hell did you take that??”

He almost screamed in annoyance. “Instead of just sitting here annoying the hell out of me or some shit, why don’t you help me or something??”

They walked up behind Levi, rested their chin nonchalantly on his shoulder, and reached their arms around him towards the keyboard.

Levi felt blood rush to his cheeks. Why—what? Why did they have to type this way?? Why was he blushing??

And in less than 30 seconds, they broke into the computer, the “Zeke Inc.” logo disappearing, and the desktop glowing, open on the screen.

Levi’s jaw dropped, and when he finally registered what happened, he yelled:

“WHY DIDN’T YOU DO THAT FROM THE BEGINNING??”

They put their hands on their hips and retorted:

“Well, you didn’t ask until now!”

Before Levi could flip the desk in frustration, an alarm sounded from his phone. He only had 5 minutes left before he had to make his way out of there. Quickly, he rushed in, scrolling through shipments for supplies, rerouting their destinations.

“Oh… so you’re like a… a gloomy Robin Hood huh? Small boy steals from big boy company to distribute resources to those who need it? A criminal… or an anti-hero maybe!”

“Oh wait!” They leaned in next to Levi once more—“Here, this is faster,” they whispered while hitting a few more keyboard shortcuts, doubling the amount of shipments.

“Hange, what are you doing??” A young boy stood in the doorway, the same metal band on his ankle.

Levi’s alarm sounded, and he began to wipe down the keyboard of his fingerprints and grab his backpack.

“Hange are you sure we can trust him?” Moblit asked as Hange took off the metal band from their ankle.

Hange winked in response.

“Oi, Levi!”

Levi turned in the doorway, quickly raising his hands to catch the band Hange threw at him.

“Take it!” They yelled, and the heavy door shut right in front of him, leaving him alone in his thoughts.

Levi stared at the band in his palm, and gently wrapped his fingers around it.

“Thanks,” he whispered, and ran off.

As Levi ran under the night sky, he looked at the intricate tech in his hand, and noticed the color yellow peeking out from under it. Flipping it over in his palm, he found a yellow sticky note, which read:

“We’ll trade you our tech for housing if you have space, gloomy Robin Hood! Maybe we could even steal from something big like Marley Corp. someday! If you’re in, find me back here tomorrow night! - Four-Eyes”

Levi carefully folded the note and put it in his pocket.

“Levi?” Nanaba called as he approached.

“Didn’t recognize you—are you… happy about something?”

Levi inadvertently reached his hand up to his face, feeling how his lips curved upwards. He couldn’t remember the last time he ever smiled. His mind was fixated on the note in his pocket, the image of Hange’s face smiling at him etched clearly in his mind.

“…I guess I am, Nana.”

#levihan #levihan fanfic #levi ackerman #hange zoe #levi x hanji #levihan fanfiction #ask #replies #drabble #moblit berner #erwin smith #nanaba

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myketheartista · 3 years

Text

“Tommy’s ghost only remembers bad memories.”

Furthermore, Tommy accidentally dies canonically while exiled. Contrary to what we know in canon, Tubbo has not gone to see him at all. Tubbo has basically refused to visit Tommy to accept the fact that he doesn’t need him. This only makes things worse, of course! I haven’t seen anything from Tubbo’s POV after the exile, so if he has said something of the sort, that’s pretty interesting!

---

Tubbo doesn’t know which one of those deaths is real every time he sees Tommyinnit tried to swim in lava or Tommyinnit fell from a high place. It haunts him, not knowing what Tommy is doing, why is he in danger, why is he not taking care of himself? He’s gotten a passing word from Ranboo, Fundy, anyone who has spoken to him, that Tommy is okay, but he needs to see for himself. So he finally goes to pay a visit.

Except he doesn’t see Tommy anywhere near the tent. His gaze follows the path leading past the nether portal, perking up when he spots Logsted hidden within the trees and begins heading over rather slowly. He feels good. For some reason though, there’s a hint of....jealousy? He’s sad? Tommy seems to be doing just fine after the exile...has a decent looking home, a huge body of water, plenty of space to build, access to the nether...he’s doing fine without Tubbo.

Meanwhile for Tommy, and as we’ve seen a little bit in canon, he thinks Tubbo will visit soon! He’ll come eventually, he’s still his friend, he misses him...right? And as days pass, there’s still no sign. Every time someone else comes, he asks if Tubbo has talked about him, if he’s even mentioned his name in conversation, and the more he asks, the more desperate he becomes. In the book him and Ranboo write in, he always asks, trying his best not to sound as desperate as he is, but it’s without fail that it comes up, ‘has Tubbo mentioned me at all? Not that I care about the guy! He exiled me, he’s a bitch hahahaha he can fuck off...but has he said anything?’

But yeah, Tubbo finally works up the courage to visit Tommy, knows he’ll have to see him eventually, and makes his way over to Logsted. He stands in the entrance, surprised to see the familiar yellow sweater of his old leader who has his back turned to Tubbo. He’s busy chatting away as chipper as can be while his voice is light and scratchy as it has been for the past few weeks ever since he died, but its the quiet, “Ghostbur?” that makes him turn around to acknowledge the boy’s presence. Wilbur’s face lights up and he moves forward to greet Tubbo, but it’s difficult to focus on the ghost’s cheerful attitude when all Tubbo can look at is the pale skin, the white, lifeless eyes, and the messy blonde hair that seems to have lost some of its color. He takes a step back, unsettled by the way Tommy’s expressionless face stares back at him. He’s...is he...he can’t be...?

Wilbur slips back into view because he’s clearly been talking this whole time and Tubbo hasn’t been listening! How rude :( but it’s okay because- oh! he’s looking at Tommy!

“Yeah, Tommy’s been like that for a while now, but he doesn’t talk much which is weird, right, Tubbo? Tommy always has something to say, but I guess it’s nice getting some peace and quiet every once in a while.” And Tubbo can only focus on the ‘been like that for a while’ part because what? He’s been what?? Tommy is still staring at him with no recognition in his face, nor does he give a sign that he’s glad to see his best friend after so long. It hurts.

Tubbo feels Wilbur practically hanging off of his shoulder and hears him whisper, “He doesn’t smile as much as he used to. Even when I play the discs, he always looks so sad. Nothing really cheers him up anymore. And Tommy loved the discs, I remember that. I tried asking him why he was so sad because I know I don’t like feeling sad since it doesn’t feel very good, and he just shrugs every time.” Tubbo doesn’t feel good himself.

Wilbur continues to ramble on about how the things that usually make Tommy happy haven’t been working as Tubbo reaches into his pocket, pulling out the compass. Wilbur stops when he sees it and brightens, “Hey, I gave you that! You still have it on you- see Tommy, I told you he carries it wherever he goes!” And surprisingly enough, there’s a flicker of something in Tommy’s eyes that makes Tubbo hold his breath. Something like ‘that’s familiar...tubbo has one?’ Tommy looks around, confusion evident on his face. ‘i have one too, right?’ It’s been a while since he’s touched it. He stored it away out of fear he would lose it after falling into lava so much. And as he begins to move towards the barrels, Wilbur watches him in fascination, kind of like how someone watches their dog look for a hidden treat because Tommy is finally remembering something! This is good! Tommy sifts through the barrels, taking his time to go through each one until he searches through a particularly full barrel and pulls out the compass from the bottom. Hidden beneath unused materials and more of the like. Things that they weren’t going to use anymore...there was no point. Tommy just stays in Logsted all day. But he fishes it out, turns around and walks over to Tubbo and holds it out next to the other compass that Tubbo has hovering in front of him.

Tubbo’s been too...shocked? Too nervous to say anything this whole time, but he stares at the compasses and looks up at Tommy who’s watching the little red needle quite intensely. He speaks up, feeling his throat tighten as he attempts to get the word out, “Tommy?”

Tommy doesn’t look at him, doesn’t do anything to reassure Tubbo that he’s heard him, just brings his other hand up to grab the underside of Tubbo’s hand and brings their compasses closer to where they touch and there’s a little clink. His brows are furrowed as he thinks, “Your....Tubbo.” Ah, he hasn’t forgotten about him! He might be a ghost, but he stills remembers who his best friend is.

Tubbo nods, “Yeah...yeah, I’m Tubbo.” And Tommy shakes his head, a frustrated noise coming out of him. “Your Tubbo,” and pushes his own compass forward. Tubbo blinks and it sort of registers. “Oh, oh yeah,” and he pushes his compass forward as well, mimicking Tommy, “Y-Your Tommy.”

Tommy nods but still looks a bit confused, irritated, not really satisfied with the “answer” he’s been given. Tubbo stares at him, watching his face sit on the same sad, lost expression. He grabs Tommy’s hand as well, the one with the compass, and brings their hands up. “Do you remember? Remember me?”

Tommy finally looks at him, causing Tubbo to wince at the way those lifeless eyes stare right through his body. He holds Tommy’s gaze though, forcing himself to choke back the tears that dare to escape and gives his friend a smile. “You remember Tubbo, yeah? I’m your best friend, Tommy.” Tommy stares at him before plainly stating, “Yeah, you exiled me.” Tubbo’s smile drops, and his grip on Tommy’s hands loosens. “I- I didn’t- Tommy, I didn’t mean to, Dream wanted-“

Tommy’s expression shifts to something angrier, annoyed, and still a bit confused. “Dream wanted? Why are we listening to Dream? Dream hates me, why would you listen to him? Who cares what he wants.”

Tubbo averts his gaze, shaking his head. “No, I’m not listening to- Tommy, I didn’t want to exile you, but he-“ and Tommy cuts him off again, getting louder. “He what?! What about him, Tubbo? Why are you listening to him? He tried to kill us, he started a war, he hurt our friends, Tubbo, he built walls around L’manberg! And you’re still listening to him? Tubbo, he—he came over here and kept taking my things! Forced me to give up everything I had! Everyday, it was the same thing and he blew them up right in front of me! Threatened to kill me if I didn’t listen, Tubbo!”

And as quickly as the anger appeared, it vanished. His expression falls and his voice grows weak. “You exiled me...and he kept coming back to shove it in my face.”

Ah, but there’s still some resentment left. “He kept- he’s a bitch, Tubbo, that’s what he is. I hate him and I wanna kill him and you should stop listening to him because you’re...” and he trails off, eyes softening and mouth closing into a thin line. Tommy physically deflates and sighs. “You said you’re my best friend, Tubbo.” Tubbo nods and hears his voice break, “I am, Tommy.”

“Then why am I so mad at you. I don’t feel happy at all to see you.” Tubbo wants to cry and laugh at the same time because the words hurt, but Tommy looks like he’s just pouting at this point. Even as a ghost, he’s pouting. “...Tommy, are you mad at me or mad that you aren’t happy to see me?” Tommy takes a second and chews on his lip awkwardly because he’s right. He grunts out a “both” and Tubbo exhales, letting the laugh slip out.

“What’s so funny? I’m still mad at you. You can’t laugh when I’m mad at you or I’ll be even madder.” Wilbur comes up behind Tubbo and floats beside him because he’s apparently still here, and Tubbo nearly jumps out of his skin cause oh god he saw all that? that’s sort of embarrassing, but Wilbur joins in, “Yeah, that’s kind of rude of you, Tubbo. Tommy’s been really sad and all you do is laugh at him.” And Tommy’s pale skin somehow reddens despite the lack of blood in his body. “I haven’t been sad, you idiot! Don’t tell him that!” Now that sounds like the Tommy he knows.

Tubbo listens to them go back and forth, feeling the burning sensation behind his eyes become unbearable and tries to swallow, sucks in a breath and realizes he can’t hold it back anymore, so he just leans forward and pulls Tommy into a hug and hides his face in the crook of his neck. That shuts them both up. And Tommy doesn’t know what ‘good’ is anymore. Doesn’t remember what happiness feels like. It’s really the complete opposite of Wilbur’s situation and Tommy hates it. He doesn’t want to feel sad all the time, but he can’t think of anything good that happened to him while he was alive and it frustrates him, confuses him, and that just makes him angrier. Wilbur telling him stuff makes him mad too because he shouldn’t have to be told these things, they should just come to him naturally.

But bottom line, he doesn’t remember what a hug is nor what it felt like. So...hugging is weird. It feels nice? He thinks? He vaguely recalls doing it with Wilbur...and even Techno...a lot with Phil. Years ago for them three but what felt like just yesterday for Tommy. He hugged them all the time back then when they were still a family...he didn’t hug Tubbo enough, did he?

Tommy awkwardly moves his arms to hold Tubbo and stares at Wilbur, helpless and silently pleading ‘help me what do I do’, and Wil just nods like, ‘yeah, you’re doing fine! dont worry.’ And they fall into a comfortable silence. Or rather what Tommy thought was going to be comfortable until he realizes that his shirt is progressively getting wetter by the second and Tubbo has begun to sniff quite a lot. “Uh...y’know, Tubbo, this is pretty cool. You’re hugging a ghost right now. Not many people can say they’ve done that.” He receives a laugh in response and Tubbo’s warm breath tickles his cold skin. “‘m sorry, Tommy.”

Well, he had certainly tried to lighten the mood, but he deflates a bit at the apology and frowns. “It’s fine.” He feels Tubbo’s head shake. “No, I should’ve stopped him. I shouldn’t have made him escort you, and I should’ve kept an eye on him. I should’ve come sooner.” Ugh. All of this apologizing and for what? Tommy rolls his nonexistent eyes and grumbles, his tone growing annoyed. “It’s fine, Tubbo, I don’t care-“ and Tubbo lightly punches his back to shut him up. “You do. You wouldn’t have told me if you didn’t.” Dammit, he’s got a point.

Tommy purses his lips and glares at Wilbur who smiles innocently. God, he definitely shouldn’t be here, just go a w a y. But Wilbur either ignores him or completely misses the social cue and floats over to a barrel, pulling out a disc and moving out of Tommy’s peripheral. Tubbo keeps going, “I was scared. I’m the president, Tommy, but I didn’t know what to do. I wanted to follow you, but that’s...I’m a leader now. I can’t. That’s all I’ve ever done. I followed you and Wilbur, and now you’re both gone and I’m all by myself.”

Tommy’s arms tighten a bit around him as he tries to reason with him. “There’s Fundy. And Big Q. Niki, Ranboo, Eret’s there but he’s still a bitch for what he did to us.” Tubbo digs his face into his neck even more, voice breaking again when he continues. “They called me Schlatt. Fundy, Quackity, even you. They don’t like me. They think I’m some dictator for what I did, and I thought I was doing the right thing. Everything hurts when I think back on it, but I can’t help it.” He pulls back and Tommy wants to look away, but the redness of Tubbo’s cheeks and the tears falling down his face keep him where he’s at. “I was scared you had died. Really died. But they always said you were fine, and I thought you didn’t need me. “

Tommy’s grip tightens around his compass “I didn’t.” Tubbo shakes his head and he wipes at the tears that refuse to stop. “You don’t mean that.” Chirp kicks to life in the background, and Tommy hums at the sound, relieved there’s something there to fill the silence “I don’t.” He doesn’t. He really doesn’t, but he’s at a loss. He’s unsure what the right thing to say is. He probably would’ve said something different if he were still alive, but he can’t even begin to think about what alive Tommy would say. All he thinks about is grey.

He looks behind him and sees Wilbur gone, probably inside the house, and listens to Tubbo speak again. “You clearly needed someone. You’re dead.”

Tommy looks back, and his eyes are a bit wider because someone finally said it to his face. It’s like he knew but...didn’t completely process it? And hearing it from Tubbo only makes it worse. “I guess I am...” he trails off, losing focus as the familiar tune of Chirp invades his ears and begins to sound too loud, too much, he doesn’t like how loud it is-

“Tommy?”

He blinks and stares at Tubbo. His tears have stopped. That’s good. He doesn’t like it when Tubbo cries. “Tubbo, are you just here to lecture me or is there something you want?” He curses mentally. Those words aren’t what he wanted to say at all, but saying anything else didn’t feel right. He’s not saying what he wants, why can’t he speak?? But Tubbo smiles and grabs his hand with the compass again, staring at it fondly and running his thumb across Tommy’s ashy skin.

“I’d like if you came back, Tommy.”

Huh?

Huh???

Tommy frowns. “Oh, so NOW you want me to come back. You waited till I died to say that! You just want L’manberg to be haunted, don’t you, Tubbo? You wanna be able to tell tourists that you have ghosts, huh?” And Tubbo laughs and laughs. Bubbly and so childlike. “That’s not what I meant-“

Tommy interrupts him and yells, but it’s clear he’s joking this time. “Wilbur- no, Ghostbur wasn’t enough for you, huh? That’s fine, I can be a good ghost for you, Tubbo, I’m great at this thing and I’ve only been like this for a week or so, I’ve practically mastered it.” And Tubbo keeps laughing, wipes at his eyes again as Tommy yells for Wilbur to “Pack our bags! we’re moving back to shitty, old L’manberg! We’re gonna be ghosts, Wilbur! It’ll be less shitty once we take over!” But he leans down and grabs Tubbo’s shoulders, white eyes seemingly glowing a little bit brighter as a smile grows on his face. “Tubbo, you have to promise me that I won’t be exiled again if I haunt Dream. I need to have your word, Tubbo, this is the most important thing in my entire life and I need your permission so I can rub it in his face when he starts crying like a little bitch boy and tells me to stop.”

Tubbo nods as more tears slip down his face, more laughter bubbling out of him. Tommy shakes his shoulders and laughs as well, high-pitched and loud as always. “Tubbo! Why’re you still crying! The president of L’manberg doesn’t cry, he gets angry and tells Dream to fuck off!”

And Tubbo looks up at Tommy, slipping the compass back inside his pocket.

“I’m just glad you’re still you.”

#headcanon machine goes brr #dream smp #mcyt #tommyinnit #tubbo #wilbur #wilbur soot #ghostbur #there are some characters mentioned as well regarding the exile #BUT THIS WAS FUN!#i really really enjoyed writing for this idea and just spitting words onto a post #brings back memories :)#but i have more of these sort of revolving around early sleepy bois where theyre a close family and the boys get into some shenanigans #lots of angst with hurt/comfort at the end tbh haha #and i wanna draw to some of em but i dont think i would have the time #but i hope this is a fun read! i like the idea of tommys ghost being the exact opposite of how tommy normally is #its heartbreaking but extremely fun to play around with #long post #fanfic #dream smp fanfic #no beta read i die like tommy in lava #also excuse me just literally smacking words and dialogue onto a post bc I seriously am not intending to write a legit fic #it’s just a transfer from discord so it’s not supposed to be proper or anything #dsmp drabbles

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unrestedjade · 3 years

Text

Baseless Ferengi headcanons no one asked for and that get increasingly queer-navel-gazing and self indulgent because the horrible space goblins have consumed my brain:

- Mobile ears, because if hearing is so well developed and important to them they should be able to aim those big stupid radar dishes. Also because then they can emote with them and that's cute. THE AESTHETIC IS PARAMOUNT.

- Since they canonically sharpen their teeth with chew sticks and sharpeners, their teeth must grow continuously. So I submit: subcultures that let certain teeth grow out as a fashion/political statement. Ferengi punks and anarchists with 5" tusks. Ferengi with all their teeth filed flat (mom and dad HATE it).

- Corollary to the above, most of their teeth are crooked. At the least, they don't share our fetish for straight teeth. What if their teeth are deciduous, and there's no point in trying to force them into perfect alignment, since they'll just fall out and get replaced? So like, sharks but their teeth can also grow longer with no limit. WHAT HAST EVOLUTION WROUGHT ON FERENGINAR :V

- Parents nagging their kids to sharpen their teeth "or they'll grow up into your brain and you'll die :)"

- Personal space? Don't know her.

Okay I need a cut because there's too many now. WHOLE SOCIETY OF GAY HOMOPHOBIC UNCLES AND AUNTS GO I HAVE A PROBLEM

- I can't remember who on here put forth the idea of them having retractable claws but Yes. :3

- Pushing back against the worst canon episode a bit but: relative ear size being the only obvious sexually dimorphic trait, and even that having enough of a gray area that the only way to be 100% sure you're talking to a male or female Ferengi is if you do a blood test. Unless they're intersex! *shrug emoji*

- This is why they're so fanatical about gender conformity and their Victorian "separate spheres" attitude to men and women's roles. Capitalist patriarchy is fragile! And as artificial to Ferengi as it ever was to Humans! (self-indulgenceeeee about gender shiiiiit)

- You know how with domesticated rabbits, the rabbit getting groomed and paid attention to is the boss? Yeah. Go ahead and paint your bestie's nails, just don't be surprised if she cops a little bit of an attitude with you from then on.

- Their fight/flight/freeze/fawn instincts skew heavily toward the last three, and what a lot of other species read as annoying sucking up is the Ferengi in question feeling anxious and unsafe. Especially if they don't feel integrated into the group. Even being at the bottom of the pecking order is better than not being in the flock at all.

- If they DO opt for fight, it's ugly and typically their last resort. Bites or scratches will get infected without intervention-- microbes that their immune system can handle could cause big trouble for aliens. You might wanna check for full or partial teeth that break off and get lodged in the wound, too.

- Too many of these are tooth related but I don't care. :B More teeth stuff: you know what else has teeth that grow constantly? Puffer fish. Likewise, Ferengi can chew up mollusk shells as easy as potato chips, and they need the minerals for their teeth. (Imagine grandpa Sisko offering Nog a crayfish for the first time and watching as he just...pops the whole damn thing in his mouth and crunches away...)

- Their staple foods seem to be grubs and other arthropods, high in protein and fat. I've unilaterally decided their cuisine also involves a lot of edible fungi, ferns, plant shoots and seeds. Gotta get those vitamins. Overall flavor profile leaning toward umami, vegetal, and fresh herbs, and pretty mild (or "delicate" if you wanna be snooty about it, which a Ferengi probably would let's be real).

- Not much sugary food. I'm basing this solely on Quark's aversion to root beer as "cloying". Which could definitely just be his personal preference, but most of the people I hear hating on root beer cite the actual sassafras/sarsaparilla flavor (saying it tastes like medicine) not the sweetness. Nog might be the weirdo outlier for being able to enjoy it.

- Their home planet isn't bright and sunny, so their eyes are better at discerning shades of gray in low light conditions, with relatively weak color vision. Which could explain why they dress Like That.

- Conversely, human music has a reputation for stinking on ice because a lot of it is juuuuust lightly dissonant or out of tune because we can't pick up flaws that small. Ferengi can, and it drives them up the *wall*.

- Music? So many different kinds. Traditionally, maybe lots of percussion and winds, and water as a common component of many instruments to alter pitch or tone. Polyphony out the ass. Some of the modern stuff is an impenetrable wall of sound if you're not a species with a lot of brain real estate devoted to processing sounds. Pick out one melody to follow at a time.

- Yes, back to teeth again I'm sorry. It's a sickness. At some point in their history, pre-chewing food was just something you did for your baby or great grandma as a matter of necessity. Possibly your baby gets an important boost to their immune system and gut biome from your spit. At some point takes on a more formal intimacy aspect and gradually drifted from something all adults and older kids do to something only women do. Your husband and older kids have perfectly functional teeth, but you love them, right? =_= (Think old memes about husbands being useless in the kitchen if little wifey isn't there to cook, but even more ridiculous. Ishka was right about everything but especially this. Thank you for making your family chew their own food, Ishka. Not all heroes wear capes. Or anything!)

- How did they get started on the whole men: clothed vs women: unclothed nonsense? My equally stupid idea: men just get cold easier. Those huge ears dissipate a ton of body heat. Cue Ferengi cliches like "jeez, we could be standing on the surface of the sun and my husband would put on another layer." At some point, again, this got codified and pushed to ridiculous extremes in the name of controlling women and keeping everyone in their assigned box, to the point that women just have to shiver if they really are too cold and men have to pass out from heat stroke if the alternative is going shirtless, because That Would Be Inappropriate.

- Marriages default to five years, but they're also the only avenue for women to have their own household or any stability. Plus their religion places no emphasis on purity save for pure adherence to the free market and the RoA. So, curveball to the rest of their patriarchal bullshit: female virginity isn't a concern in the least. Bring it up and they'll rightly side-eye you.

- Family law is absolutely bonkers and lawyers that specialize in it make BANK. I feel like custody would default to the father usually but oh wait, the maternal grandfather has a legal stake in this, too, and your next father-in-law is asking HOW many kids are you dragging into my daughter's house, etc etc. Growing up with a full sibling is way rarer than growing up with half or stepsiblings, since it usually takes both men and women two or three tries to find someone they vibe with. (Not love, unless you're super cringe.)

- A misogynistic society is a homophobic society. Imo those flavors of shittiness just come in pairs. Homosexual behaviors are fine within certain parameters (aka "always have sex with the boss") but not on your own terms. To add spice, bisexuality is their most common mode (because I'm bi and these are my hcs for my fics I'm not writing, so there), but capitalism demands fresh grist for the mill so you better get het-married and pop out some kids you lowly peons. You have a choice so make the proper one. :)

- Corollary to the above, that doesn't keep all kinds of illicit "we're just friends with quid-pro-quo benefits for realsies" affairs of every stripe and every gender from going on everywhere. Many Ferengi have a lightbulb moment somewhere in early adulthood when they figure out their dad's business partner or the "auntie" who visited their mom every month had a little more going on.

- Plus there's way more gender non-conformity and varying degrees of trans-ing than the powers that be have a handle on. Pel isn't unique, even if most would have to somehow make it out into space to be able to thrive.

Damn a lot of these are just my personal bugbears plus THE GILDED AGE BUT WITH HAIRLESS SPACE RODENTS ain't they

- Women can't earn profit, okay. But lending or "lending" things to each other isn't commerce, riiiiiiight? To be assigned female is to master navigating a vast, dizzying barter/gift economy. Smart boys and men leverage this, too, and there are splinter sects that view this as the purest expression of the Great Material Continuum.

- Of course plenty of women make profit anyway, and just do their bast to dodge the FCA. The tough thing about insisting on using latinum as currency is that cash can be so hard to track, you know?

- Because of the RoA, guys are discouraged from doing favors or giving gifts without setting clear expectation of getting some return on investment. This can twist into an expression of friendship (and of course women do it too), and the ledger will keep cycling between debit and credit among friends for decades. A common mistake aliens make is to tell them recompense isn't needed without explaining why, or return their favor or present with something that zeroes out the debt. The Ferengi will assume you want to break off the friendship. (I cribbed this from dim memories of an African studies course I took in 2007 and whose textbook I know I still have but I can't frigging find it...)

- Flirting, they do a lot of it for a lot of reasons. Roddenberry made it clear that they're just straight up pretty horny, but there's no reason it can't pull double duty for building alliances with other people, smoothing over feuds or disagreements, or cementing friendships. Ferengi who are ace and/or sex-repulsed are possibly viewed similar to the way we'd view someone who's "not a hugger/not big on touching" and if they flirt just don't get offended if it doesn't go any further; aro Ferengi don't garner much comment aside from an occasional "wow how badass, never falling in love with anyone."

- where to even start on making sense of the Blessed Exchequer??? Like seriously, what is this literal prosperity gospel insanity, I need to force myself to re-read Rand and like, some Milton Friedman for this shit. Help.

- fuck I'm probably going to actually do that, RIP me...

#ds9 #star trek #meta #ferengi #i love them Too Much help #reliving my brief libertarian phase from high school from the opposite direction #my heart wants to make them simultaneously as queer and as repressed as possible #i didn't even make it to the goddamned blessed exchequer my head is too full #i will find beauty in this vulgarity if it kills me #this is too long #why did i spend my time this way

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hotwings0203 · 3 years

Text

A/N: Hi guys! This is my first oneshot thingy (or any piece) that I’m posting here, it’s kind of dark but I think that’s the type of fic I enjoy writing. Let me know what you all think, and any suggestions or feedback is much appreciated since this is the first time I’m using Tumblr😆

Warnings: implication of non-con, manipulation, yandere themes, kidnapping

Pairing: Yandere Dabi x f reader

Smoke curled into your hiding place, invading your senses. You could hear him smashing other various household items around the house, attempting to startle you and make a sound, effectively revealing your hiding place

Which wasn’t a very clever one, mind you.

If you only had a couple more seconds, maybe, just maybe you could’ve dove into the closet and actually hidden with some blankets and clothes covering you instead of your current chosen position, which was under the creaky bed.

You cursed yourself for even starting something so stupid, and getting a rise out of him in the first place when you knew, you knew he hated it when you picked fights over the smallest of things. All he wanted you to do was make him some breakfast, now was that so much to ask for? Did you have to put rat poison in his oatmeal at 10 am in the morning?

You didn’t think you could handle playing this happy-go-lucky fake domestic scene any further; you wanted to go home. You wanted to see your family again for Thanksgiving, you wanted to meet up with your friends and get your nails done and coo over pretty boys, and most of all you wanted to go outside and gaze up at the clear blue sky and just watch the fall colors swirl around you in a halo of leaves.

Dabi let’s you go outside twice every month if you’re being good for him, and if you really please him he’ll let you touch the grass without that stupid shock collar that adorns your neck like an ornament with with him by your side, of course. Don’t think he’ll fully trust you after that stunt you pulled last week when you tried chewing the restraints off your wrists.

He had to salute your effort though, you really might’ve gotten away if he hadn’t surrounded you by his flames before you could touch the door.

Kind of like now, actually. While you’re trembling and cramped unceremoniously under the bed, he’s finished scanning the living room and kitchen for any sign of you.

Shit

That means there’s only two places left: the bathroom and his room, where you are.

Your legs are starting to cramp up and you’re wondering how long you can manage to stay still while this psycho is hounding you out.

“If you quit acting like a pussy and come out within 30 seconds, I’ll make sure to leave your face intact. Can’t say the same about the rest of you though, babe, I’m not feeling very generous or inclined to spare you too much after choking down rat poison.” He all but snarls as you can see from underneath the bed his elbows and jaw curl with smoke, blue flames licking at his shins.

The smell of rotting flesh feels like an ominous foreshadowing of your fate if you don’t think of a way out of this, fast.

You’re pulled from your musing as Dabi slams the bathroom closet door shut, and flings the shower curtain aside violently, indicating no more places are left for him to check for you except his room.

You’re out of time.

Picking up the soap dispenser on the sink counter, he weighs it in his hand, testing it’s material. You’re peeking out from underneath the mattress, unsure of what he’s doing.

You don’t need to keep wondering after he suddenly hurls the glass down on the floor, the dispenser shattering on the floor near the bed mere inches away from where your face was.

You let out a small shriek at the explosion, and immediately still and clamp your hand over your mouth with wide eyes.

But the damage has already been done, and Dabi knows this as he lets out a dark chuckle and saunters towards the bed, turning around and plopping down on the plushy material, his boots right in front of your face.

“We both already know where this is going, little mouse. I caught you, but I’ll be nice and give you one more chance to come to me willingly.”

He leans back on his elbows and tilts his head up to the chafing ceiling. He knows you’ll come, you always eventually do, that’s why he loves you, his sweet little girl who always does what she’s told.

What he doesn’t expect, however, is you making one last break for it, clambering out from the opposite side of where you both are situated and bolting to the door.

He whips his head around at the sound of you desperately fumbling with the lock on the door, when did he lock it? God this is taking too long he’s gonna catch you he’s gonna-

But you’re already out of the door and flying down the hallway as you hear him leaping off the bed and scrambling after you, the house completely silent save for the deafening sounds of both of your own objectives pounding away at the floor in the same direction.

“You fucking bitch, I grant you one last chance to come clean to me and this is the thanks I get? You’re dead little mouse.” You hear him howl behind you, and it scares you at how close he sounds.

But now you see it, you see your freedom at the entrance just an arms length away and you’re touching the door and-

The room is suddenly enveloped by blue fire, the door handle becoming so hot under your touch that you wail as you let go and cradle your bubbling flesh, tears blurring your vision as you whirl around to locate your assailant and captor.

Dabi stands in the middle of the living room, ethereal cobalt lighting up the sides of his face and illuminating the staples that stretch and threaten to rip from the shit-eating grin he sports while looking at your defenseless demeanor.

“I told you to listen while I was playing nice, right? This is what happens to little mice who want to turn into rats so bad. Is that why you wanted to feed me rat poison, huh, baby? You were warning me to get rid of what you might turn out to be, hmm?” He pouts at you, the corners of his mouth twitching when you sob in terror

“D-dabi please,” you bawl, “please let me leave. I w- wanna go h-home.” Your chest heaves at the last word, the pain in your hand paling in comparison to the ache in your chest.

“An-and I w-want you on your kn-knees worshipping the ground I walk on and making good use of that bitchy little mouth instead of whining and sniveling.” He mocked and cooed cruelly, reveling at your helplessness.

You could do nothing but wail louder as he started slowly walking towards you, his eyes narrowed, complemented with dark glint in his pupils while his ever-lasting hellish quirk enunciated his heavy steps.

Dabi finally reached you, and you pathetically pressed yourself into the wall and turned your face as he lifted his hand and stroked your cheek in faux sympathy. His bottom lip was stuck out in a fake pout, mimicking your state of panic.

“You’re not scared of me, right baby? It’s just a game, right? I mean after all I do for you-bathe, feed, and dress you- you only feel love for me, right?”

He was toying with you, in a similar fashion a cat plays with its prey before it pounces.

When you hesitated for a moment too long, his hand by your face heated up its dying embers, warning you to give him what he wanted to hear.

You whimpered and tried to evade his hand, only resulting in his gripping the back of your head and yanking back on your hair roughly so you were forced to look up and meet his amused, dark gaze.

“Ah-ah my pretty bitch. You don’t get to move away from me after all the stunts you pulled today. I’ve had enough of your bullshit so don’t test me any more, now I asked you a question: you love me right?”

At your wits end, you maintained eye contact with him as you shakily tried to nod your head, the movement being difficult to do as he had such a death-grip on your locks.

But he wasn’t satisfied by your pathetic attempt at agreeing, it seemed like he wanted to make your life hell even further and draw this out as long as he could because he clicked his tongue and shook your head like a rag doll in his hands, hair flying across your face and giving you whiplash.

“Use that sharp tongue you got on you before I melt your fucking teeth. You might be a grade-A moron, and a pathetic one at that but I know damn well you’re not mute.” He leans in further, his nose grazing yours as you almost went cross eyed trying to keep him in vision.

“Y-yes Dabi, I love you.”

His silence seemed to scream unimpressed, so you hurried to salvage the situation as best as you could so it wouldn’t escalate the knee-deep shit you were already in.

“And I’m...sorry I was being such a brat today, I just missed everyone I used to be close with. But you were right, I should be more grateful after everything you do for me. It’s not fair that I don’t treat you with the same, uh, affection that you show me. A-and I’m sorry I put... rat poison in your food.” You whispered this last part, too embarrassed to look him in the eyes.

He snorted, not entirely convinced at your sincerity in the apology but it was enough for him to loosen his grip on your head and take a step back from your personal space.

You sink down the wall to your knees, curling up slightly and taking shaky breaths as you attempt to calm down. The room is still engulfed in flames, but thanks to Dabi’s foresight and extensive planning, most of the furniture of fire-proof (god knows how he got it like that, it’s not like he was the son of the number one hero or anything to accumulate such wealth) so the damage was limited save for your mental state and injured hand.

Dabi crouches down in front of you, an odd smirk on his face as you peer up at him in caution.

“You know, I didn’t say I forgive you princess, or that you’re excused for your little tantrum.”

He cocks his head at you and lifts your chin up towards him with a scarred finger. You blanch at the implication of this ordeal not being over from your excruciating apology, and his disturbing Cheshire-cat grin stretches so wide over his face, you wonder distantly if his stitches are going to pop loose any second.

“Please, I’m sorry. I’ll do anything, just please don’t...please don’t burn me.” You whisper in defeat.

“Anything, you say? But why? Isn’t it more fun if I brand my name into your back? Oh wait! Maybe I’ll burn you so bad you’ll look like me! Then we’ll really be a matching couple, you’d like that wouldn’t you? I mean if you love me as much as you claim you’ll let me, right?”

He’s trapped you again. If you deny, he’ll ruthlessly berate you for lying to his face and who knows what he’ll do just for the sick, sadistic satisfaction he’ll get from making you stumble over your own lie.

If you comply, however, you’ll look like burnt bacon, just like this fucker.

“I’ll do anything to make you forgive me.” You quietly settle for.

He studies you for a moment, and the uncomfortably silence he grants you makes you shift in your place.

Dabi finally stands to his full height and stretches his arms back with a content groan.

“If that’s the case, then don’t say I didn’t let you choose how you wanted to make it up to me.”

You glance up when you hear the sound of a zipper being undone, and you mouth gapes at his innuendo. You can’t seem to look away as he frees himself from his black boxers, the sound of his belt and pants rustling as they hit the floor.

“Now then, what was that you said about redemption? I think this is a great way to put that mouth to good use, little mouse.”

#tw dubcon #dabi smut #mha x reader #yandere mha #bnha yandere #yandere #yandere dabi x reader #kidnapping #dabi #bnha oneshots #dabi x reader #bnha dabi #mha dabi

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five-rivers · 3 years

Text

Loved 8

Danny found himself without human senses or even a rough analogue of a human body. Even so, he still had an understanding of his surroundings, alien senses leaving impressions on his mind.

His body was soft, boneless, rounded, unformed. He was intimately connected to, part of, and entirely surrounded by an infinitely greater being, whom he was dependent on. He was known, all of him, by this being.

If he’d had eyes to cry with, he would have, knowing that he would never be able to know this being as he himself was known.

Amusement and affection – or, at least, things that were like them – pressed into him as the being contracted around him. An object was inserted into the single orifice he currently possessed.

Slowly, Danny became aware of an intense… discomfort in that area. He couldn’t call it pain. He currently had no sense of pain. But he could feel it and he didn’t like it and it was growing—

He woke up, tangled in blankets, skin slick with sweat, head and teeth aching.

Except, he didn’t. He was in the Dream. But if he were in the Dream, what had that been?

Already, many of the details were slipping through his fingers. He could no longer recapture what he had felt, although the general events were still somewhat clear.

He… had sleeping here somehow peeled back the layers of metaphor through which he experienced the Dream? Or had that just been a different metaphor, no truer than this one?

He sat up – or, rather, he tried to. An unexpected weight around neck stalled him. Overnight, the chain of Clockwork’s Love for him (and his Love for Clockwork in return) had more than doubled in size. It had also been reinforced by thick, colorful, silk ropes wound in and out of the links as well as other, smaller, chains.

There were also two of them, now, leading in opposite directions. As if Clockwork’s Love was simply too great to be confined to a single representation.

More carefully this time, Danny sat up. At least the collar, despite being far, far heavier, was no longer configured like a neck brace. Danny could turn his head to look at things.

The dog, evidently sensing an opportunity, deposited itself in Danny’s lap. Danny, not knowing what else to do, started petting it, running fingers through shadowy fur. He had always wanted a dog. Although, he didn’t remember telling Clockwork that…

“Maybe I should name you,” said Danny. He wasn’t sure how he felt about naming a personification of his hate, but he wasn’t sure if that’s what the dog was, or if the dog was just a container for his hate. It was confusing. “How about Cujo?”

The dog wagged its tail agreeably.

“Cujo it is, then.” He sighed and looked around the room. It didn’t have a door or any other visible opening. Honestly, in comparison to everything else he’d experienced in the Dream, that was pretty pedestrian. He supposed he’d just have to wait until Clockwork came back.

Maybe he could take a look at some of those interesting objects along the wall in the meantime? Something in his mind whispered that they were his and they were toys. They could take his mind off the pain building in his jaw and temples.

He stood up and walked almost all the way to the edge of the depression in the floor before being brought up short. He stumbled and sat down abruptly. What-?

The end of the chain was buried in the floor at the center of the depression.

Oh. Well. This whole room was part of Clockwork, too, so Danny really shouldn’t be surprised. It wasn’t like the chain hadn’t acted like a chain before.

Still.

Being forcibly trapped in, well, a crib was infantilizing. Not that everything else about all of this wasn’t. This just seemed like a step further.

The collar hummed lightly against Danny’s throat, eliciting a croon as he reflexively attempted to harmonize. The act settled him somewhat, and he gazed blankly at the runes surrounding the depression. The drop between the depression and the rest of the floor was too high for him to get over by himself anyway… no, that wasn’t right… couldn’t be… he couldn’t see the runes if that was the case, he’d be too short… but the lip there was definitely too tall, he knew it…

He tore his eyes away, squeezing them shut against his suddenly raging headache. The dog, Cujo, padded over to him and sniffed him gently. Danny whined, trying not to cry.

It looks like your horns might be growing in as well, said Clockwork’s avatar, running a hand through Danny’s hair. Poor baby. Teeth and horns all at once. That must hurt.

“Horns? Like Nocturne?”

Yes. They will help you navigate the other layers of the Dream once they are fully grown. With practice.

Danny let Clockwork’s avatar lift his head, resting his chin in its palm. “Layers of the Dream?”

You did not think the Dream was as simple in structure as that place you call reality, did you, little Love? This place you have become familiar with is only the closest layer to that place, no matter how deep you go.

“But—” said Danny, trying to work out how that could be. The answer slotted itself neatly into Danny’s mind. “It’s… like a tesseract?”

More than that, but essentially, yes. The avatar was gathering blankets around Danny again, swaddling him. Danny squeaked and tried to twist away, but the avatar easily anticipated him, and the fight quickly went out of him.

Danny was carried from the room and brought to a long table covered in bowls. The bowls contained pastel orbs of various sizes and colors. A single piece of furniture shaped like a basket woven of silver strips sat next to it. Clockwork’s avatar set him down gently on this piece of furniture and several of the strips peeled off to wrap securely around Danny.

Time for breakfast, said the avatar, happily.

Mentally and emotionally, it was easier to eat the orbs than the obviously alive things of his previous meal. Physically…

Danny asked why the orbs were so tough and difficult to chew. The avatar murmured something about practicing using his teeth. Danny wasn’t exactly in a position to refuse, so he was filled to satiation and beyond, until every piece of food on the table had been eaten.

By the time Clockwork’s avatar lifted him again, he felt exhausted and disgusting.

“Can I go home now?” he asked.

You are home.

“You know what I mean.”

It would be remiss of me to let you go when you are still in so much pain. Besides, sleep is necessary for children such as yourself to properly digest food.

“Don’t want to sleep,” said Danny, alarmed. He didn’t want to go back to the place he was before, where he could not see, hear, smell, taste, or touch.

That is not the only place you may go, said the avatar. In fact, it is rather unlikely for you to return there unless you do so on purpose. It touched the place where one of Danny’s horns would eventually bud. It was tender and Danny whined. Which is not something you can yet do. It paused. Perhaps I could guide you to a… cozy layer. One you might find educational. Would you like that?

“I wanna go home. I feel icky.”

I will set up a bath for you when you wake up.

Danny moaned and tried to tuck his face into the avatar’s shoulder. “Don’t want a bath.”

You do need one eventually.

“Don’t wanna.”

The avatar lowered Danny back into the nest of blankets.

Sleep well.

Danny woke up. This time in an actual crib. A mobile with star shapes hung overhead. He reached up with a chubby baby hand. A medical bracelet jingled around his wrist.

With some difficulty, his hands lacking dexterity, he turned the bracelet over. The writing there was incomprehensible and made him slightly dizzy. He huffed and rolled over before pushing himself up onto hands and knees.

The room he was in was dark, and far more defined than he was used to in the Dream. He could see picture frames on the walls and clocks. Every wall had at least one clock.

He grabbed the top of the crib railing and pulled himself up into a standing position. The rest of the room looked normal. Lived in.

The door opened, letting light in. A figure walked through the doorway and picked Danny up.

“You’re awake already! Ready for the day?”

“Clockwork?” squeaked Danny.

“Hmm, yes. But there’s something else you can call me here, hm?” The figure shifted, light falling on a feminine face and long hair.

“Mama?” tried Danny.

“There we go,” she said.

“Where are we?” asked Danny, lisping his words slightly. He wasn’t sure he had teeth right now. He put his hand in his mouth, feeling his gums. “’s different here.”

“Yes,” said Clockwork, walking out into a hallway. It was bright. There were clocks here, too, evenly spaced on the walls. Danny hid his face. “Oopsie daisy. Too bright, baby?”

“Mhm,” said Danny.

Clockwork balanced Danny on her hip and fiddled with a dimmer switch. The lights dimmed to a more comfortable level. “I’m sorry, baby. I keep forgetting about your eyes.”

“What about my eyes?”

“You’re photosensitive. That’s what the bracelet is for. You need low light.”

“Mama?”

“Hm?”

“What is this place?”

“Ah,” said Clockwork, putting him in a highchair. “A world within the Dream. Once,” she punctuated the word by clipping Danny into the seat, “it was much like the place you were first born. But we came to understand it completely and everything that thought or dreamed opened themselves to us. We engulfed it, brought it here. Now everyone is happy.”

Clockwork put a sippy cup on the little table on the highchair and then several pieces of cereal. Danny didn’t recognize the brand.

“Do I have to?”

“You need energy for today,” said Clockwork.

“But I just ate so much.”

“Not here. Come on, sweetheart. It’s just a little bit.” Clockwork sat down in one of the chairs at the dinning room table, brushing her hair over her shoulder. She smiled. “Isn’t this nice?”

Danny shrugged.

“I know you don’t care for the other part of the Dream, that you find it frightening, so… If you like this place, you can stay here. It’s just like the other place. The one you like. Would you like that?”

“My friends are there.”

“I can bring them here. It’ll be difficult, but very possible.”

Danny shook his head. Clockwork sighed.

“Well. Let’s just see how this day goes before you decide. Maybe you’ll like being here so much you’ll never want to leave at all. Give it a chance. Just for one day, okay?”

“Okay,” mumbled Danny.

“And that means eating your breakfast.” She ruffled Danny’s hair. “Okie-dokie?”

“’Kay.”

Clockwork smiled, eyes crinkling. “We’re going to have so much fun today, just see!”

#danny phantom #eldritch abomination au #loved #dannymay 2021 #dannymay 2021 day 23: cozy #dannymay

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obae-me · 4 years

Text

You Are My Gift

Happy Birthday to our beautiful money boy! This is a small fic based on his birthday event, talking about what happens after his party, I hope you enjoy!

Word Count: 2282

Warning: Mentions of Alcohol

Unbelievable. It was his special day. His. And somehow after having a bit too much to drink, his precious human had wandered off. The birthday celebration was still on in full swing; even Lucifer was feeling a bit tipsy, telling Mammon--again--how much he loved him. Mammon didn’t mind the attention, but when his older brother got personal, he hated the annoying emotions in his chest. Satan and Asmo were both handling their drinks well, just a bit drunker than Lucifer, each of them deep in a giggly discussion that the second-born didn’t have the wherewithal to pay attention to. Levi and Belphie were the lightweights of the family, completely wasted. Levi had been muttering slurred words to no one in particular about how much he hated this new show he was watching. Belphie passed out a while ago, and Mammon wasn’t sure if it was due to the alcohol or the fact that he had skipped his afternoon nap to join the party. His twin, Beel, was nowhere to be found. Simeon and Luke never drank, being as uptight as angels typically were, but they were each enjoying some sort of sparkling fruity juice, making sure those who were drunk were pacing themselves and drinking water. Solomon was speaking to Barbatos, both of them practically sober, each of their eyes twinkling with specks of mischief. Diavolo seemed to be having the time of his life, pestering Lucifer to no end, and enjoying the frivolities that came with birthday parties with a loud boisterous laugh. And Mammon himself, well, for once, he wasn’t that drunk, he actually wanted to remember this whole thing for tomorrow. Sure, his head was tingly, he felt fantastic, and his feet wouldn’t walk as straight as was normal, but he could think fairly clearly. Right now, what was on his mind was, where in the world is MC?

He checked the kitchen first, seeing as how it was the nearest room to the dining hall. No MC, only Beel, finally found, who was raiding the cupboards for extra snacks. His excuse was that the alcohol was giving him the munchies, even though Beel held his alcohol so well, he had barely been tipsy once in his life. Mammon left him be, heading to the next logical choice, MC’s bedroom. He was so well acquainted with the direction of their room, he could walk there with his eyes closed. In fact, in a passing thought, he realised he probably spent more time in their room than his own. He opened the familiar door, convinced he’d see their face, but it was empty.

Memories flooded through his mind. Times of countless days where he’d open this very door to see his human greet him with a smile. Didn’t matter what it was for. Movie night? He fondly recalls staying up way too late with them, watching whatever they wanted. They’d giggle at his commentary and open emotions. If the movie scared him, he might accidently jump and cling to their side. They’d pat his head and make him feel safe. If he cried, they’d hand him some tissues and let him be emotional, making sure he felt better afterwards. Hiding from Lucifer? It had worked the first few times, after all, why would he want to be in a human’s room? Now, of course it doesn’t work, it’s the first place Lucifer checks. Once, he had hidden under MC’s bed and the human lied for him. It didn’t end well for them obviously, but after they endured the lecture together, they found themselves laughing about it. Bored? He’d go to their room and they’d find something to do. Excited? They never downgraded his accomplishments and eagerness. Upset? They’d not shoo him away, they’d invite him in, letting him talk about it no matter what it was. They’d ensure he knew his feelings were valid. No matter what, no matter the reason, he’d always wind up right here. Right by their side in any situation.

Irritated MC wasn’t where they should be, he wandered the house for a while. He should be at his own party, he should be among his family who, for once, was celebrating him. But it wasn’t nearly the same without MC around. Nothing he did anymore was. Somehow, this human enhanced every aspect of his life. He walked a little bit into the wall at the thought of them. Maybe he drank a bit more than he thought.

He was about to walk clear past his own bedroom when he noticed light peeking out from under the doorframe, some soft music gracing his ears. The melody sounded somber. He quickly opened his own door. The lights were dim. He had to scan the room a bit before he saw them. MC was sitting on the floor, back propped up against the wall, a glass in their hand with more drink left in it. Their cheeks were red, and they hadn’t even noticed he had entered yet. The music was coming from their D.D.D. a vastly different tune than what was playing at his party.

“MC!” He called, relieved to have found them, but upset they had left him and the group behind.

They snapped their head up at him, a grin curling their lips. “Mammy! Mamo. Mamoooooney.” He could tell they were wasted. Demonus didn’t have an affect on humans, so Lucifer took it upon himself to find a similarly strong human replacement. Maybe it had been too strong, and Mammon had half a mind to chew his older brother out for making his human wind up like this.

He felt his face grow hot at the nicknames, but he shook his head, using a finger to adjust his glasses. With his hands on his hips, he confronted them. “Why’d you leave the party, eh? We’re supposed to be celebrating me, you know! This kinda stuff doesn’t happen everyday!” They looked confused, like his question didn’t make sense. Instead of an answer, they went to take another sip. Mammon found himself taking the glass from their hands, placing it on a shelf. “I think you’ve had enough, huh? And when that’s coming from me, you know it’s serious.” He bent down, grabbing them by the arm to get them to their wobbly feet. They latched onto him, tightly, leaving him incredibly flustered.

“You’re being such an adult, where’s the real Mammon, what did you do to him?”

Again his chest fluttered, and he gritted his teeth. “Hey! I’ve always been an adult! I’m thousands of years older than you, ya know!” They giggled as he settled them down on his bed, detaching them from his body. They swayed a little as they sat still, and Mammon found himself shaking his head. “Look at this sorry state you’ve gotten yourself into, forcing me to be responsible, on my birthday no less!” His eyes almost twitched at their disheveled clothing, revealing some of their left shoulder and a bit of their collarbone. Adjusting their clothes to cover them back up, he found it hard to breathe.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me?” MC’s breath was hot, the mixed smell of his cake and their adult beverages wafting in the air. He blinked to realise he was close, much closer than he had intended to their body. Just a few more inches and their noses would be touching. His eyes flickered over their lips before reeling back and rubbing his own chest. His heart was almost painfully beating.

“Ask you what?”

“Ask me what I got you for your birthday.” MC swayed a bit more, and with his arms extended as far as they would go, he held them up by the shoulders. Then he thought about what they had said. He didn’t even think of the fact that the only one who had yet to bring him a gift was the one he cared about the most. Just them being there, giving him the letters, their smile, their support, the way he treated them--not just today--but all days that he was important, that had been enough.

“You...got me a gift?” He perked up a little, shifting around on his feet. MC chuckled some more, a sweet smile on their face, leaning to their side more so Mammon had no choice but to tighten his grip and straighten them.

“Course I did, it’s your special day.” On those last two words they attempted to touch the tip of his nose with their finger, but they ended up missing, touching his mouth instead. When their arms dropped, he bit his lower lip to keep his emotions at bay. “Wanna see it?”

“I-I-I mean, it’s my birthday, I deserve a gift! So...yes.” He covered up his true feelings with selfish desire like he so often did. MC rummaged through their pockets and handed him another envelope, addressed in the same fashion as the rest of them during this whole event. He let go of them temporarily to open it, sitting by their side on the bed so they could lean into him for support. It was labeled For Your Gift. Opening the envelope, he found it was devoid of a letter, containing a small key inside. He raised an eyebrow.

“It opens something in this room,” MC hinted, mumbling hazily against his arm.

“Ah, that’s why you squirreled your way in here huh?” Nerves in his body tingled with excitement. He scanned his room for anything that seemed out of the ordinary. Then his gaze snagged upon a little treasure chest on his nightstand. It was as wide as a good-sized book but half as tall. It was a dark black color with a silver lock and hinges. A golden bow was wrapped around it. How he had missed it before was a mystery, but he suddenly felt giddy, looking at MC with a goofy grin before crawling over his bed to get to it. He snatched it and placed it in his lap. MC followed him, collapsing face-first a few times on the mattress before they reached him, sitting opposite from him to better watch his expression. Their legs touched, threatening to intertwine, but Mammon hardly noticed. With the matching silver key, he opened the lock, lifting the lid to look inside.

His expression flattened, but not because he was disappointed, but because he had to process what he was looking at. Inside the box was what could only be described as memories. Train tickets, four of them, all stapled together, the ones from the trip to London. A shiny rock MC had found, one that they said reminded them of Mammon. A necklace, one Mammon had stolen to pawn off only to discover that it was a convincing fake, but ultimately worthless. He and MC had worked hard in trying to prank one of the brothers to buy it anyway, only for him to give it to MC to keep. Pictures from that time they had borrowed Satan’s camera to have an at-home photo shoot. One of Lucifer’s feathers from the time they had a contest to see who could get one plucked from his wings first. A cheap prize from that cursed Devildom Claw machine, one they had spent more money than trying to get than was actually worth. Trinkets, goodies, random knick-knacks, all these physical reminders from all the good times they had spent together. A tiny note was tapped to the underside of the lid. It read, For When You Want To Remember Me.

MC’s hand touched his knee, worried. “Do...you not like it?”

Drops of water suddenly fell onto all his little treasures, and as he blinked, Mammon realised he started to cry. His breath hitched as he observed the many contents of the box once more. Swimming in his head were all the memories. Thoughts of him and MC together, every event they shared. He placed the box off to the side of him, hesitating for just a second before pulling MC into his arms, burying his face into their shoulder as he cried.

MC stiffened, sobering up just slightly from the shock of his reaction. “Mammon, what’s wrong?”

“Nothing, nothing’s wrong, I just…” He snaked his arm up around their back so he could place his hand on the back of their head. He never wanted to let them go, he could stay in this moment forever and be happy for eternity. “You gave me you, MC.”

“Huh?”

“Never mind...thank you, that’s what I meant to say.” It was hard for him to explain in words. That box was filled with MC, essentially. Every connection to them he ever needed was in their gift. He held them tighter, hoping that maybe they were drunk enough to forget tomorrow how much he sobbed into them, how softly he was holding them. MC mimicked his actions and buried their hand in his hair. He let out a soft sigh, trying not to melt into them as his tears started to dry.

“Happy birthday, Mammon,” They leaned their whole body into him, the alcoholic influences letting them share more than they typically would’ve intended. “I wished there was more I could’ve given you. You’re so so special to me. I can’t afford anything fancy or designer, though I know that’s what you would’ve preferred. I’d give you the entire world if I could. The three worlds!”

Mammon shifted so his face was in the crook of their neck, feeling MC’s head settle against his own. “MC...listen...this is perfect, and even if you didn’t get me anything, I wouldn't have cared. Everything you’ve done today is enough. Everything you do is enough. You yourself are a gift to me enough.”

#obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me headcanons #obey me imagines #obey me mammon #obey me mammon x mc

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woeisme-iamwoe · 3 years

Text

an absolutely massive Haikyuu!! fic rec pt. 2

IwaOi this time around. My favorite ship. The world’s favorite ship...there’s so many

Undecipherable, by ioo (4k. G. canonverse)

I’m pretty sure the author meant ‘indecipherable’, nevertheless! I am appalled that this work doesnt have more hits. Y'all are sleeping on it and that's not okay.

The sound of the door slamming against the wall has Hajime startling back to the present. He looks at the source of the disturbance and finds himself face to face with Oikawa, red in the face with breathlessness and a leather-bound notebook tightly clutched in both of this hands. When he spots Hajime, he makes a beeline for the bench and slaps it down right next to him.

"Koi no yokan," he says. "The sense one can have upon first meeting a person that the two of you are going to fall in love."

primavera, by tothemoon (8k. T. canonverse)

All of tothemoon’s works read so beautifully

They say it takes twenty-six years, for certain breeds to fully bloom.

Learning to Walk (So That We Can Run), by ricekrispyjoints (27k. M. canon-divergence)

I've read this work so many times. Like, so many times and I’ve never tired from it. Gorgeous. The shift from friendship to romance felt so natural, love it.

"I'm not healing like I should be."

In his second year of university, physical therapy just isn't cutting it. Oikawa's knee is getting worse, and he can't hide it anymore.

Or: the light angst, project-your-own-life-experiences-on-Oikawa knee surgery fic you didn't know you wanted.

Priorities, by weirdmilk (2k. T. canonverse)

Kissy, kissy.

‘I just -’ Oikawa begins, ‘it might be difficult to get married, sometimes, I think.’ He chews on his lip.

Iwaizumi makes a questioning noise.

‘Ah,’ Oikawa says, and then, in a rush, ‘if I didn't want a wife at all - what then? If I said that to you. If I told you I can’t see it. Like - the wedding dress. The bride. I just can’t see it.’

Iwaizumi swallows again, his heart beating much faster than the conversation warrants. He wonders whether Oikawa can hear it. ‘You’re eighteen. You aren’t supposed to see it yet.’ He snorts. ‘I mean - if we’re sharing shit, I’ve never even kissed a girl.’ He doesn’t mind admitting it. It’s not something that bothers him - he’s never prioritised girls very highly, and despite Oikawa’s largely undeserved status as Miyagi’s most eligible teenage bachelor, he doesn’t think Oikawa has ever wanted a serious relationship with any of his fan club, either.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi can't sleep before their first practice match with Karasuno.

Before Midnight, by fathomfive (2k. G. canonverse)

Reads like a fairytale.

The sky turns, the seasons turn over, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa track the movements of the stars. Nothing is ever quite constant, but it's close enough.

The grass is stiff with frost. They walk in silence past the raked-over vegetable garden and up the back hill, footsteps crackling, and stand side-by-side at the top of an incline that used to seem much bigger. Iwaizumi glances over but Oikawa’s already gone, eyes searching the sky with no hint of hurry, just a kind of reverent patience.

make a bet, keep a promise, by raewrites (13k. M. canonverse)

Bet still on.

Sometimes, in still moments, Iwaizumi wonders why out of all the people on earth he ended up with Oikawa Tooru. Why it’s his face that lingers on his fading conscious in the last moments before he falls asleep, in the first blurry seconds upon waking up again. Why when he looks to his side, he expects Oikawa to be there in the same way he expects to see five fingers on both hands, a natural extension of himself, ever present.

Why he can’t imagine a future without Oikawa in it.

It begins with a bet made between the two boys in the mid-summer of their eighth year. It starts with volleyball, but like with most things involving Oikawa Tooru and Iwaizumi Hajime, things are never quite that simple.

our hearts still beat the same, by knightswatch

two birds, by thelittlebirdthattoldyou (5k. T. canonverse)

Of heartbreaking letters and paper crane wishes.

Five months into the term, two months after he’s stopped replying to Oikawa’s texts, the first package arrives. A small square box, wrapped in brown paper and tied with string, and Hajime almost trips over it on the way to his dorm.

There’s a letter attached.

Oikawa doesn’t know how many times he’ll have to put his feelings down on paper before Iwaizumi believes them.

Through My Eyes, by anchoringsouls (2k. G. canonverse)

Okay! Okay, we were doing great with the soft, happy love up until the last part! That's great, just great!

“I think if you ever saw yourself through my eyes, you would fall in love with yourself the same way the way I did with you.”

in time it could be ours, by deusreks (3k. T. canonverse)

Anyone wanna go back in time and make a time capsule with me only to dig it up years later and we’re actually in love?

Set post Seijou's match with Karasuno. There's a moderate amount of rolling in the dirt. No pajamas were hurt in the writing of this fic.

There, in their joint backyard, was Oikawa Tooru, clad in his silly luminescent space pajamas, digging a hole near a cherry tree.

“What the hell, Oikawa.”

Tooru stubbornly continued digging. He looked pitiful in that moment; everything that was grand about him in daylight was meaningless in the darkness. He was only a boy with a shovel whose broken heart mirrored Hajime’s own.

we can do better than that, by spaceburgers (16k. M. canonverse)

Of course, of course, the IwaOi road trip fic. AnD thErE wAs ONly OnE bED!

Oikawa and Iwaizumi go on a road trip during the summer after their high school graduation. It doesn't go as expected, but maybe that's not such a bad thing after all.

They Say it Rains Diamonds on Jupiter, by exsao (35k. T. canonverse)

I don't know, just gorgeous. Hajime’s so in love.

"You're in love with him."

Hajime considers denying it. He considers deliberately choking on his drink to express surprise, to create a distraction by spitting onto the man in front of him's pristine white shirt and causing a commotion. Instead, he swallows his mouthful of soda and heaves a small sigh once his mouth is free.

"Yeah," he says instead.

He's never been good at lying, anyway.

Midnight boys/sunset town, by carafin (10k words. T. Housemates AU):

The author says they played off of the fact that Oikawa oftentimes forgoes his sleep in order to work, and wrote it so that he doesn't sleep at all. This was so cute, kinda sad, mostly not. Love how Iwaizumi just goes along with whatever crazy stilch Oikawa is on.

In which Iwaizumi Hajime grows a few chili plants, participates in an eating contest, breaks into a park, and falls in love with a man who doesn't ever sleep - not exactly in that order.

5 Reasons Why Iwaizumi Hajime's Flatmate Is A Complete Weirdo (An Incomplete List)

1. He's obsessed with that stupid bucket list of his.

2. He's the proud owner of seven truly ugly, criminally hideous movie posters with aliens on them, which he insists on pasting all over the damn living room.

3. He's always stealing Hajime's sweatshirts.

4. Sometimes, he wakes Hajime up for breakfast. At 5AM. On Saturday mornings.

5. He literally never, ever sleeps.

The Best I Ever Had, by FindingSchmomo (62k words. T. Canon-divergent):

You’ve read it, your mum’s read it, your dog has probably read it (you really need to take facial recognition for him off your phone, he’s got some weird nighttime habits). So basically this fic caused me physical pain and then pumped me full of morphine and now I’m good! Beautiful read, hated Oikawa for a while, Iwaizumi is the only boy I would ever feel safe alone with.

A story of separation and time lost. Oikawa and Iwaizumi lose contact, and life goes on. Now, a decade later and back in Japan, Oikawa wonders if he can pick the pieces back together, despite knowing Iwaizumi has moved on. A story of their past, present and future, pieced together by shaky hands.

darlin', your head's not on right, by aruariandance (13k words. T. canonverse)

Again, I’m pretty sure anybody who's anybody has read this fic and for good reason! Super sweet realizing you're in love fic. Makes me reconsider wanting to get married.

'“Our wedding,” Oikawa says by way of explanation, tapping his finger against his magazine more emphatically. “What colors should we use? Color scheme is important, apparently.”

Iwaizumi feels his lifespan shortening.

“I was thinking our Aoba johsai colors to go for more, you know, softer tones? Besides, I’ve always looked great in that sea foam green color. Oh, and I guess you look decent in it, too.” He grins, saccharine sweet, and Iwaizumi has never been so tempted to knock one of his perfect pearly white teeth right out of his stupid mouth."

or,

Oikawa teases Iwaizumi about a childhood promise he made to marry him when they were older, except suddenly it's not really a joke at all.

the courtship ritual of the hercules beetle, by kittebasu (66k. T. canon divergent)

Is this one of the most famous Iwaoi fic? I don’t know. Looks like it, I know it's my personal favorite. Where Oikawa studies bugs for a living and can’t seem to come to terms with his feelings. Very angsty, love that in a fic.

Tooru is pretty sure he could manage the mating habits of a mosquito. It’s the mating habits of people he can’t seem to get right.

Terrarium, by sausaged (11k. T. Post-canon)

Honestly, I’m so surprised this fic doesnt have more hits! It’s so good! Made me ache! I love the memories and character growth shown through the growing of the terrarium, absolutely adore that kind of symbolism. So beautiful, give it some love because it's one of my absolute favorites.

He's practically a professional at being proactive (lies, lies, and lies when it comes to Iwaizumi).

At this point, is he really happy with just staying best friends forever? Will he be writing journals and collecting rocks forever (he will, he knows, but that is aside from the point)?

Can he really tag his Instagram photos with #YOLO if he doesn't actually put that phrase into practice?

A story about Oikawa Tooru, Iwaizumi Hajime, plants, and rocks.

Lips like sugar, by ohhotlamb (8k. T. canonverse)

Why did my childhood best friend never offer to help me practice kissing only for us to realize we were only interested in each other? I had a fake high school experience.

Hajime is offered to learn the art of kissing from a true professional, one Oikawa Tooru. It's not as bad as he thought it would be.

Falling Slowly, by bravely (commovente) (3k. T. canonverse)

So special, imagine loving one person, and one person only like this for the entirety of your life. This is getting too sappy, I want off of this ride.

over the years, some things change; but over the years, some things stay mostly the same.

(alternatively, mornings with oikawa and iwaizumi over the years).

No sleep in the city, by loveclouds (7k. T. canonverse)

Mass/volume = Iwaizumi, apparently. (Please. If anyone gets this absolutely horrific joke, lets elope).

Along their journey to find Tokyo's best ramen, Iwaizumi finds himself asked again and again why Oikawa is still single.

Time, by surveycorpsjean (5k. E. canonverse)

Growing older together.

When they're twenty-three, their story only begins.

Everything With You, by Ellessey (14k. E. canonverse)

Came damn near to crying, you can just feel Iwaizumi’s pain. Fight scene was probably the most emotion evoking one I’ve read in a long while.

‘Hajime still loves Oikawa, but he understands now. Oikawa can't look at him and see someone he could potentially date.

And that makes it easier to not focus on the little things that used to drive him crazy—Oikawa's long legs, the way he's always hanging off of Hajime, how his whole face changes when he gets ready for a jump serve, and he looks like he could take on the entire world and win.

This new arrangement though, this living together situation, is presenting a new set of variables that must be adjusted to, and the nakedness is one of them.’

For years, being Oikawa’s best friend has worked out fine. Hajime is hopelessly in love with him, but it’s enough. Then Oikawa—who, by all accounts, has never been anything but determinedly, assuredly straight—gets a boyfriend. Or a boy friend-with-benefits. Hajime doesn’t know, and he doesn’t give a shit about the definition.

What he knows is that remaining best friends is starting to seem a bit too painful (way too painful) to be considered a solid option.

The Best Best, by rikke (12k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Takeru is a whole mood. Don’t want kids, but I do want domesticity and this fic feeds me well.

“Congratulations, Iwa-chan! You’re a dad!” Iwaizumi hears as soon as the door opens. He’s dealt with Oikawa for all of his twenty-one years of age now, but this declaration is still sufficiently disturbing enough that he turns from his place on the couch and braces himself for whatever Oikawa has done this time.

Or the one where Iwaizumi and Oikawa babysit Takeru for a week.

cheek kisses, by ohhotlamb (G. 3k. Future fic)

Sooo cute!!

“Every time,” Hajime murmurs, “every time I see you again I remember how fuckin’ crazy I am about you.”

Routine, by snoqualmie (2k. T. canonverse)

Again, anyone wanna be my childhood best friend so we can put face masks on each other and fall in love? I died, truly.

Iwaizumi is fourteen years old, horny too often and angry all the time, and he’s just starting to notice that Tooru’s legs are really long, that his lips are kinda soft looking, and his fingers feel good pressed under his jaw.

Thirty Years and Change (the Games of the XXXIII Olympiad, by sunsmasher (19k. G. canon divergence)

Be wary, I would give this fic an upper rating to probably Teen and the follow-up fic is Explicit. But, Oikawa on the Japanese national team is just a dream as is, but add in a rekindling friendship and an angsty make out sesh? Mwah, delizioso.

It’s July 10th, 2024, and Oikawa Tooru is an Olympian. His smiling face airs on an NHK promo every 45 seconds. He’s captain of the national men’s volleyball team, reigning star of the professional leagues, and he hasn't spoken to Iwaizumi Hajime in two years.

He has, however, sent Iwaizumi tickets for the 2024 Los Angeles Summer Games.

“So go,” says Matsukawa's voice. “It’s only a few weeks. You’ve got a whole city to hide in if it gets awkward, and if it doesn’t get awkward, well…”

It’s like watching the future reconfigure, like being in high school again, watching team after team fall to Oikawa’s faultless planning and shameless charm.

“I’ll get to watch a whole lot of volleyball,” Hajime says, and resigns himself to fate and/or Oikawa Tooru.

“Hey, when you get there, can you bag a gymnast for me?” Hanamaki asks, and Matsukawa squawks.

Chasing Paper Suns, by carafin (10k. T. Future fic)

Again with the growing up and coming back together, this time with more angst than the last. Lovely, really lovely read.

Post-high school, Oikawa makes it to the national volleyball team but Iwaizumi doesn't. The next three years become an exercise in growing up without growing apart.

Some days Hajime likes to think of himself as Oikawa’s counterpart—the two of them blending into a single devastating unit, the invincible setter and his unyielding ace, the bond between them unbreakable and true. Other days he feels like he is chasing after a rising sun, always running and running with his eyes fixed on the distance, trying to cross a chasm that stretches on without end, caught in an endless and exhausting pursuit.

the yellow room, by ohhotlamb (14k. T. canonverse/future fic)

Makki and Mattsun see bullshit and call you out on your bullshit.

“I told you, we broke up like six months ago. We’re not dating anymore.”

Hanamaki eyes him suspiciously. “You live together.”

“Yeah, so?”

“There are pictures of you two kissing stuck to your refrigerator.”

Hajime shrugs. “That wasn’t my idea. Anyways, they’re good pictures. Good lighting.”

the river runs, by tothemoon (11k. T. post-breakup)

My heart ACHES. Happy ending, promise! Just read it.

One year since their breakup, Oikawa Tooru starts a list of daily reminders, tips, and tricks called HOW TO FORGET ABOUT IWAIZUMI HAJIME, and he’s determined to make it stick.

—

This is a firsthand account of how to deal (and rather spectacularly, at that).

I sure hope that guy gets fired, by Xov (29k. T. canonverse/time loop au)

The only thing better than one confession, is MULTIPLE confessions. Oikawa trusts Iwaizumi unshakably, and that's beautiful.

It was the fourth time experiencing the exact same day that Iwaizumi Hajime reluctantly admitted to himself that something was very wrong.

my only friend was the man in the moon (until i met you), by ohhotlamb (7k. T. canonverse)

Just so innocent and sweet. Oikawa said ‘effort’.

In which Oikawa has a life-altering revelation, and Hajime is starting to think it involves him.

Bet On It, by originalblue (13k. E. canonverse)

Tooru being nice for a week? That can only end one way… with a d*ck in Hajime’s mouth.

Hajime knows exactly how shitty Oikawa's personality is, and has no scruples whatsover about betting Oikawa six thousand yen that he can't be nice for an entire week.

especially for tender ones like us, by viverella (17k. T. canonverse/post break-up)

Gods! See? See what I mean? How could I forget about a work as heart wrenchingly beautiful as this? Give it some love, actually, all of the love.

The worst part of it all, Tooru thinks to himself sometimes, is that even as they fought and kicked and screamed and tore each other to shreds, it was never that Tooru stopped loving Iwaizumi any less. The worst part of it all, he thinks, is that loving Iwaizumi turned out to not be enough.

(OR: on finding the right person at the wrong time and learning how to pick up the pieces)

sunset town, by skiecas (33k. T. canon-divergent)

Another work that I just CANNOT understand why it doesn't have more hits. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful. I almost cried.

In the summer of 2020, Oikawa Tooru returns home from his first successful stint as captain of Japan’s national volleyball team. In one hand, he holds the undisputed weight of an Olympic medal, and in the other, his unresolved feelings for a childhood best friend.

Two years down the road, reconciling his lifelong dream with his lifelong love proves to be the greatest challenge.

of odd numbers and intimate regrets, by bravely (commovente) (5k. T. post-canon/one night stand au)

Basically, Tooru and Hajime sleep together after not speaking for seven years and of course there’s feelings and angst and a belated chance at happiness and a life together.

Tooru’s spent the last seven years of his life in a carefully constructed schedule that is, he realises now, as much a habit as it was a way to forget about the person in front of him.

[or, the one night stand AU between two people more than friends but not quite lovers, measuring the passage of time in distance and long-gone memories, the expansion and contraction of the spaces between their fingers each time.]

cross my heart, open wide, by acchikocchi (7k. T. canonverse)

Super cute, super short. Realizing you're on a date with the wrong person one-shot.

For a minute Hajime doesn't know what to say. Everything and nothing crowds his mind, leaving no room to think. That he's never tried this. That volleyball's over. That he's graduating in five months. That it would be really nice, at least once, to go on a date with a good-looking guy.

Hajime goes on a date. It's not with Oikawa.

Fernweh, by oikawashoyo (19k. G. canonverse/post time skip)

A mature(ish) Tooru?? I love works that show Tooru growing and living happily in Argentina and this one is just beautiful. (Plus! Plus, Skai did a piece on it as well and I love ALL their work so you can visualize everything). Love it.

Argentina is stretching out before him, an opportunity, a challenge. He is reminded of his losses, his insecurities, his disappointments; sees them form a tall, tall wall blocking his path to success. He takes a deep breath and knows he is going to shatter it.

In which Oikawa's whole life is spent longing for the horizon — in the form of a dream, a home, and a boy.

i breathe easily in your arms, by orphan_account (2k. M. canonverse)

Soft, soft sex

When, after completing their high school graduation ceremony and heading home to enjoy their freedom, Oikawa had pulled him into his room and pressed his lips hesitantly against Iwaizumi’s own, it seemed an inevitable development in the unfolding narrative of their shared existence.

Despite years of having a bed to himself, the sensation of another body taking up space in his sheets, curling against his chest, creating warmth, feels natural in much the same way.

old and new, by Mysecretfanmoments (5k. T. canon divergence)

Finally a fic where they don't freak out on confession and it's sweet.

“You seem—sad.” Was that the right word? Others sprang to mind: desperate, lonely, anxious.

Tooru looked away. “Are you going to make me say it?”

“Say what?”

Tooru folded his arms, sighed. “I missed you, of course.”

Hajime swallowed.

“No need to look that way. I told you, I’m not one of your macho man buddies. I’m allowed to say stuff like that without being embarrassed—”

“You’re being ridiculous,” Hajime complained. “No need to be so defensive. I’ve missed you too.”

“Oh?” Tooru seemed to get a little of his own back, leaning forward on his elbows. “What about me did you miss?”

((Going to separate universities, Hajime and Tooru learn the true meaning of "distance makes the heart grow fonder"))

all i wanted was you, by spaceburgers (6k. E. college/fwb au)

This was more emotional than I thought a 6k friends with benefits fic could be, okay? Okay.

Wherein Hajime and Tooru are fuck buddies, Hajime curses his treacherous heart, and Tooru is bad with feelings.

we shine like diamonds, by whitemiists (26k. T. canon divergence)

I couldn't not include this work. It deals with internalized homophobia so well and I really resonate with it.

In all seriousness, I’m very lucky to live in a country where my sexuality is widely accepted and my heart goes out the LGBTQIA+ peoples who are forced to hide themselves. You are loved and your sexuality and gender-identity are not wrong and never will be.

Oikawa is nine when he first hears the word. The boys on the playground whisper it like it's dirty, like the way they daringly mutter the word fuck and then look over their shoulders to check their parents hadn't heard.

"You know Abe-kun from class?" they snicker, hands cupped around their mouths like they're passing along a filthy secret. "I hear his older brother is... gay."

Look For Him, by Leryline (18k. E. canonverse)

A collection of kisses. I love Hajime’s grandmother.

She laughs gently. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you so heartbroken before, Hajime.”

Iwaizumi sighs and prods at the mackerel with a chopstick. “Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s just different, you know? Like Oikawa pissed me off so much that now he’s not here I don’t know what to do with myself.”

“But you weren’t always annoyed with him, were you?” his grandmother smiles serenely and takes a sip of her tea. “My, my, Hajime, old women see everything. I saw you out there with my finches, when you were kissing Tooru’s nose. Your mother and father used to do the very same thing, you know, when they were younger. And look how long they’ve lasted. I hope you and Tooru last, Hajime. He’s very good for you.”

Oikawa has kissed Iwaizumi more times than either of them can count; it’s a constant thing, their lips never really leaving the other’s skin. There are, however, times when they’ve kissed that are burned into their memories. Eight of them, to be precise.

film reel life, arsenicjay (8k. T. canon divergence)

Such a unique and creative idea! Reading from the eyes of a camera, so beautiful!

The only person Iwaizumi is lying to is himself, when he insists: I am not in love with Oikawa Tooru.

how to let your planets align, by tether (tothemoon) (15k. T. end of the world au)

This is the only remotely non-happy ending fic I will be including on here, and it's purely because it's a gorgeous read. And yes, I ached. Your lips, my lips, apocalypse.

It is the last day on earth, December 2nd, 1985, when you realize you're in love with him.

#haikyuu!!#haikyuu fic #haikyuu fic rec #iwaoi #iwaizumi x oikawa #Iwaizumi Hajime #oikawa tooru

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desiraypark · 3 years

Text

Ominous (Part 4)

Part I | Part II | Part III

CHARACTERS: Adam Sackler, Brenda “Bree” Sackler, Tako, and Patrice (OC - Tako’s fiancée/wife) CONTENT: Flashbacks, Fluff, Angst, Addiction Mentions, Tough Talk, Sex Implied, Use of the B-word (B*tches)

Tako and Patrice’s Townhome Bree’s Previous Apartment (2BR, 1BA)

FOUR YEARS AGO (Tako and Patrice’s Engagement Party)

“You’re so fucking in love, dude!” Tako exclaimed as she punched Adam in the chest.

Adam laughed as he twisted the cap off a small bottle of water and Tako made herself another plate of food.

“I’ve never seen you like this. You’re all calm and cool. Leaning against shit like you’re fucking Frank Sinatra.”

Adam shook his head and took a sip of water. Looking beyond the bottom of the bottle, he got a glimpse at Bree in the living room talking with Tako’s fiancée, Patrice. They were certainly talking about Bree’s outfit--a pink and yellow jumpsuit that she’d made herself. The spaghetti-strapped top was split in half--yellow on the left side of her body, pink on the right. Her right pants leg was yellow, the left one pink. The bright, summery colors popped against her brown skin. She’d traded in her eyeglasses for contact lenses for the night, and her curly hair fell to her shoulders.

“See!” Tako beamed. She added a spoonful of sliced strawberries to her plate. “Tell me what she knows and doesn’t know about you before I accidentally spill some fucking beans.”

Tako leaned against the counter beside Adam and he shrugged. “She knows everything.”

She raised an eyebrow. “Everything?”

“Y-yeah. Pretty much.”

“She knows about...you know. The alcohol?”

Adam nodded. “Yes.”

“She knows that you’re a slut?”

“Reformed slut. And she kinda knows...”

“Kinda knows?” Tako asked, popping a cheese cube into her mouth. Adam rotated the bottled water between his palms.

“I wanted to talk about it, but she said she didn’t care. So...”

Tako raised both eyebrows. “Wow. I don’t know if I’m impressed or worried.”

Adam laughed. “Bree is...she’s easily the most easygoing...the most understanding...the most thoughtful girl I’ve ever dated...”

“Well, then. I’m happy for you, kid.”

Adam stole a strawberry from Tako’s plate and softly elbowed her in the rib.

____________________ PRESENT Adam stood at the counter eating leftover spaghetti. Her hair tied in a silk scarf and a sheer robe flowing behind her, Patrice walked into the kitchen, bringing flames with her.

“Why don’t you sit at the table?” she asked coldly. She opened the refrigerator and grabbed a bottle of water.

Adam shrugged. “I’m almost done.”

Patrice closed the robe around her body, covering her silk pajamas. Adam’s eyes inadvertently landed on the red slushy maker that he and Bree bought them as a wedding gift. He quickly looked back down at his plate, and Patrice left the kitchen, leaving her unmistakable heat for him to simmer in.

He’d cleaned his paper plate and dropped it in the trash can when Tako walked by with pieces of bedding in her arm. He turned off the kitchen light and walked into the living room, where she’d placed two sheets and a blanket on the sofa. Then, she placed the Roku remote on top of it.

“We usually unplug everything at nine, but here’s the remote if you wanna watch TV. Or listen to some music. Whatever.”

“How pissed is Patrice?” Adam asked.

“PATRICE IS VERY PISSED!” Patrice shouted from their bedroom.

The corner of Tako’s mouth quirked as if you to say “there you have it”. Adam sighed and ran his fingers through his hair.

Tako tilted her head to the left and Adam followed her past their bedroom, where Patrice was pulling back the covers. They walked past the bedroom of Jason--Tako and Patrice’s eight-month-old son. Adam’s heart began to pound and a lump formed in his throat. This was supposed to be him and Bree, only they would live in a house away from the city.

Adam was happy to commute to work if it meant that Bree could have her own quaint boutique in some quaint shopping district in some quaint town. They were going to have two or three kids, a dog, and a backyard for them all to run around in. He had to make things right. He wanted Bree and wanted the future they’d planned.

Tako led him into the small home office and closed the door. She sat in the rolling chair and Adam sat in a wingback chair by the door, against the wall.

“So...who was it?” she asked.

Adam rubbed his temples. “Jessa.”

“Fuck, dude...”

“Yeah, I know. I fucking know,” Adam groaned, sliding down into the chair. “I don’t know what the fuck happened.”

“I mean, are you still in love with Jessa, or...?”

“No, I’m not. I’ve barely thought about her for years.”

“Is something going on with you and Bree...?”

“No,” Adam mumbled. He leaned forward and placed his head in his hands. Then, he sat back up. “Bree is perfect.”

He shrugged. “She’s perfect. I don’t know. I don’t know why I did it.”

Tako stared straight through Adam. She folded her arms and tapped her fingertips on her arm. Adam pressed his back against the chair and exhaled.

“We got some coffee and we just started talking. It felt like old times again. We went to my place and talked some more...”

“Your place?!” Tako asked.

Guilt rushed over Adam’s face and Tako held her hands up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry. Go on.”

“That’s it. We talked some more. I showed her the apartment, you know. The view. Next thing I knew...”

Adam rested his head against the wall and Tako just stared at him. “You want it hard or you want it soft?”

“Whatever,” Adam scoffed. “I don’t care.”

Tako leaned forward against the desk. She gathered her thoughts before she spoke.

“You talked so much shit about the girls you’ve dated. Hannah, Jessa. FiFi?”

“MiMi Rose,” Adam corrected.

“Yeah, her,” Tako continued. “You talked so much about how much they thrived off drama. You know what I think? I think you thrive off that shit, too.”

“No I fucking don’t,” Adam snapped.

“Then what is it? Tell me? You’ve got a wife who--from what you tell me--has done more for you than all of those bitches combined. She’s fucking hot--she’s the nicest fucking person I’ve ever met. She’s honest--she’s all the shit you claim you like--and you risked your marriage to her for Jessa? I’m just not understanding, Adam.”

Adam ran his fingers through his hair again and stared at the ceiling.

____________________ THREE YEARS AGO

“Ughhhh,” Adam groaned. He wrapped his arms around Bree’s waist as she dug through her closet. “Do you have to go?”

Bree chuckled. “Yes, I have to go.”

Adam nuzzled at her neck as she looked over a green dress. “It’ll only be a few days, babe.”

Bree hung the dress back up and pulled out a burgundy one. Adam groaned again and Bree grabbed a pink dress.

“A few days is too long,” he mumbled. He stood up straight and stepped backward to sit down on Bree’s bed. “I hate being away from you for just a day.”

Bree folded the pink dress over her arm and looked at Adam. She could see the genuine sadness in his face. Then, she walked over to him, placed the dress on the bed, and rested her hands against his shoulders. Adam opened his legs and pulled Bree close--his arms resting comfortably on the sharp curve of her ass.

“Are you serious right now?” Bree asked softly. She ran her fingers through his hair.

“I don’t like separations,” Adam said with a pout. He pressed kisses against the fabric over her navel and took in the sugary scent of her lotion. “I like being around you. All the time.”

“Baby,” Bree said softly. She lifted Adam’s face by his chin. She gazed upon his darkened eyes--noticing the glints of amber as they partially met the light of the ceiling lamp overhead. She kept running her fingers through his hair, thinking carefully about her words.

“I love you.”

Adam chewed on his lips and stared into Bree’s eyes--coffee irises protected by long, thick lashes. “I love you, too.”

“...I don’t want you to...”

“Don’t want me to what?”

“I don’t want you to make a drug out of me,” she said.

Adam’s eyes stayed on Bree. Finally, he blinked. “What?”

Bree sighed and shook her head. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean that.”

She tried to pull away but Adam pulled her close. “No. I know what you mean.” He kissed her belly again. “I know what you mean.”

Bree bent down and kissed Adam’s forehead. “I’m so proud of you. Things have been so good for you.”

Then, she sat back up and pinched his cheeks.

“You’re a big boy, aren’t you?” she asked in a high pitched voice. Adam rolled his eyes and looked away. “You can survive a few days without Mommy, can’t you?”

A devilish grin formed on Adam’s face and he pulled Bree down onto the bed with him, making her squeal.

“You’re a fucking comedian, now?" he asked. He locked his legs around hers, trapping her body against his and making her laugh. Suddenly, they fell silent and looked into each other’s eyes again. Bree lowered her head and kissed Adam’s on the lips.

“You’ve gotta bring me some fucking Al Capone merch or some shit,” Adam said. Bree chuckled.

“I am not buying Al Capone merch. How about I bring you a few slices of deep-dish pizza?”

“You know that I’m trying to eat healthy,” Adam growled, squeezing Bree’s ass.

“I forgot, I’m sorry. Well, how about this...” Bree mumbled, running her finger down Adam’s lips, to his chin, and down his neck. “When I get back...”

Bree reached behind her and pushed Adam’s palm deeper against her right ass cheek. “...I’ll bring you a nice organic treat. You can eat it for as long as you want.”

Adam bit his lips, closed his eyes, and exhaled through his nostrils. After a brief pause, he flipped Bree over so that he was on top of her. Her laugh filled the room as he tugged at her pajama shorts.

“I have to finish packing!” she squealed.

“You’ll finish when I finish,” Adam said, sliding down the bed and onto his knees.

____________________ PRESENT

Wrapped in a Christmas-themed throw blanket, Bree sat on the sofa, staring at the television without a single clue as to what was happening on it. She thought about the assortment of desserts that she passed on at the pizzeria. She regretted not ordering an entire pie to bring home. The city lights shimmered in the distance--for she didn’t have the strength or desire to pull down the shades. She wondered where Adam was. Tako and Patrice’s? Ray’s?

Jessa’s?

She shook the thought out of her head. Her eyes landed upon her wedding photo. He wore a blue tuxedo and (much to her mother’s chagrin) she wore a flowing yellow. Bree rose from the sofa, walked to the console, and stared at the photo--he was hunched over and her arms were around his neck as they engaged in a soft kiss. Bree put the framed photo face down, returned to the sofa, and turned off the television.

Then, she fluffed the caseless pillow on the left end of the sofa and laid her head upon it. She curled up in a ball and pulled the throw blanket close to her chin.

Suddenly, the shadowy figure of a woman formed on her balcony. Bree turned to face the inside back of the sofa and pulled the blanket completely over her face.

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forlornmelody · 3 years

Text

The Fantabulous Vacation of One Harley Quinn and Her Girlfriend Poison Ivy

Rating: T (suggestive themes, cartoon violence)

Fandom(s): DC Comics

Ship: Poison Ivy/Harley Quinn

Linkage: Ao3

Summary: Harley's been burning the wick at both ends and Ivy knows just the thing to help. But it takes more than just a change of scenery to get Harley to let go.

Note: Commission for @rookie009

~*~*~*

“You’re probably wondering Mr---Watchman--”

“Tockman.” Mr. Watchman spits. “William Tockman.”

“Why I’ve brought you here today.”

Mr. Watchman rolls his eyes. “I imagine you’re going to tell me.”

“Ah! Good. You’ve stopped struggling. Progress, Mister!” Harley boops him on the nose. Maybe she made the binding too tight? “I’m not cutting off your circulation, am I?” She leans in close. “Are you comfortable? I need you comfortable.”

“I’m tied up in ropes, wench!”

“Ah, see! This is what I’m talking about!” Harley sits across from him and his fainting couch, pulling her pen from her bun and making a heading on her notepad. “You have a whore madonna complex.” Chewing her pen, she murmurs, “perhaps from the trauma of your wife’s death? Cystic Fibrosis, was it?”

Her new patient says nothing. “Mister?” Harley glances up. “Willy?”

“Help!” William Tockman dangles from his left ankle, suspended in air by a beefy vine. “She’s gonna kill me!”

“Oh please. You’re hardly worth the trouble.” Ivy steps around him and the vine, brushing the dust off her hands. “Hi Harls!” How she got the vines up this far on this abandoned apartment building, Harley has no idea. But it sure has a lot of brick to climb.

“Ivy!” Harley doesn’t so much as hug her as ram her at full speed.

Her target, used to such behavior by now, braces for impact and manages to hug back. Harley takes a big whiff. “Mm. Jasmine?”

“Lilacs.” Ivy peers over at Clock King. “You...uh, busy?”

“Mm yeah. A little tied up at the moment. Or he is, at least.”

“So I see.” Ivy chews her lip, staring out the window as if she had left a reminder there. She makes a face as the draft stirs some of the painting tarp discarded on the floor. “I was thinking maybe we could get out of town for a bit.”

“HELP.”

“Are you asking for help, Billy? Or do you prefer Willy?”

“HELP ME! THESE WOMEN ARE CRAZY.”

“Great!” Harley says brightly. “Admitting you need help is the first step towards healing!”

“Harls? Are you even listening?”

“You need help dismantling another CEO along with his company?”

“No.”

“Fundraiser for conservation efforts?”

“Harley--”

“Pride pre-game with Kitty?”

“Harleen.” That stops Harley short. Ivy never calls her that. Mostly cause she hates getting called Pamela with an undying passion. Probably childhood trauma. But Harley digresses.

Ivy sighs. “Sorry. Look. I need a vacation. We need a vacation.”

“I need help!”

“SHUT UP ALREADY.” Ivy and Harley say it together, and Ivy waves a hand, muffling Harley’s captive, er, patient with a particularly broad leaf.

“Mm... I’m a little busy--”

Ivy glances at Tockman, finally. “I can see that.”

“Lemme look at my calendar. Mmm.. maybe...next year? Definitely the one after that.”

“Harls.”

“I know, I know. But there’s my derby team, missions with Task Force X, the Birds of Prey, my day job--”

“I know.” Ivy takes her hands, gently, and squeezes them. It’s the softness that stops Harley in her tracks. “It’s why you need some time off.”

“But--”

“Shh. I already have plane tickets and a hotel booked. You don’t have to plan a thing.”

Harley can’t help the blush creeping up on her cheeks. “Aww, shucks, Ives. When are we leaving?”

“Now. The plane’s departing in--shit. We gotta go.”

“MMRPH.”

“Oh, right.” Ivy releases Clock King with a patented thud as she shoves Harley out the door. “Bye!”

-----

“So, we’re we goin’?” Harley pushes the arm rest out of the way and rests her chin on Ivy’s shoulder. She glances at Ivy’s phone as if it’ll give her some clues. She spots a sudoku puzzle. “Japan?”

“No.”

“The Amazon?”

“Nope.”

“Themyscyra?”

Ivy gives her a look. “Really?”

“Er….my mom’s? Please say it’s not my mom’s.”

“It’s not your mom’s.”

“Thank God.”

“Also, why would we fly to your mom’s house when we could easily drive? Or take a commuter bus?”

“Good point. Mm.”

Ivy smooths Harley’s hair out of her eyes. “It’s a surprise.” She snatches a quick kiss before the flight attendant rolls by. “You’ll love it.”

In this moment, Harley’s pretty sure she’d love anywhere as long Ivy’s there with her. She’s lit up by the light of the tiny window behind her, and her crimson locks glow like an angel’s. But Harley knows well enough that neither of them are anywhere close to innocent. “Say, how’d you get us past security?”

Ivy winks at her.

“No casualties?”

Her lover mockingly brushes her own chest like a scandalized church mouse. “I would never!” she snorts. “They’ll be fine. Just a little dazed and confused.”

Harley leans her head on Ivy’s shoulder. “I know the feelin’.” And really! Harley’s proud of her. Ivy’s never been one to follow rules or care for humans. But she tries for Harley. Why she bothers when Mistah J never seemed to care, Harley has no idea. But it means the world to her.

-----

The taxi drops them off in front of a large revolving door. But it’s not the gold handles that capture Harley’s attention.

It’s the lush plants growing from every nook and cranny on the place. Harley bets Ivy could spend an hour naming all of them (scientific names and personal names.) Butterflies and hummingbirds in every color of the rainbow--and the faint buzzing of bees. A solitary stream crosses their path, and a wooden bridge stretches over it. Garden terrace after garden terrace rise up from the ground to an open-air cafe at the top.

And behind the walls and the hotel proper? A waterpark.

Harley’s eyes go as big as saucers. “Ivy! You shouldn’t have!” She squeezes her into a hug.

“Thanks, sweet pea, but I can’t breathe.” Ivy manages to get out.

“Oof, sorry. Here ya go.” Harley releases her, and Ivy pecks her on the cheek.

“Best part is, they’ve a zero-carbon footprint and they’re waste free.” Harley rarely sees her grin so wide.”

“Whoa.”

“They call it The Greenhouse.”

-----

Their first day at the resort passes in a blur. Harley shows Ivy a good time in and out of their bedroom. They go snorkeling in the ocean, ride the rides so many times Harley ends up upchucking their picnic at the beach, then make love at sunset in their honeymoon suite. Harley wonders if the management thinks they’re--well, they’re as good as, aren’t they? They don’t need rings or a wedding or a place of their own or--

“Harley?”

She blinks. Ivy only calls her that when she’s worried. Harley realizes she’s been staring at the chocolates on their pillows for God knows how long. “Yeah?”

“You okay?”

“Of course!” she says automatically, pulling Ivy into another kiss.

Ivy kisses back, then runs a finger down her cheek. “You’d tell me if you weren’t, right?” The setting sun makes her hair even redder, which Harley didn’t think possible, and Harley finds herself toying with her curls.

“Hey, I’ve been wonderin’.”

If Ivy notices the change in subject, she doesn’t mention it. “Yeah?”

“How come we haven’t seen any other guests? And how come we haven’t been arrested?”

“Oh! That.” Ivy waves a hand dismissively. “I rented out the whole resort.”

“With what money??”

Ivy shoots her a wicked look that sends shivers down Harley’s spine. “Ace Chemical’s investment fund.”

“Ooooh, you’re naughty.”

Harley dives in for another kiss but Ivy puts a finger to her lips. And doesn’t let her suck on it. Rude. “So, are you going to tell me what’s bothering you?”

“Since we’ve got all this extra cash, wanna make a run at the casino? I hear they donate the proceeds to rainforest restoration.”

“Alright.” Ivy sighs and reaches for her dress. Harley has a sinking feeling that she’s going to bring this up later. Maybe if Harley’s lucky she’ll forget about it? Yeah. Ivy forgets things all the time.

“Last one there buys the first round!”

-----

Ivy and Harley sit across from each other, an immaculate brunch setting between them and two mimosas. Her lover’s plate sits almost empty, and while Harley’s lies largely untouched. She keeps playing with her veggie egg white omelet, but the next bite never seems to make it to her mouth. “And then we can go for a walk on the beach later! Have you seen those beds? Right there on the water? Mm. Do you think anyone would hear us if we--”

“Harley, wait.”

“Like, the sound of the waves would cover it up, right? Mm. Maybe not. I’m loud. Not as loud as--”

“Harley, no. Stop. Stop.” Ivy presses her hands on either side of Harley’s face, drawing her to a standstill and inches away from her. “You don’t have to do this.”

“I want to!”

Ivy gives her a sad smile, shaking her head gently. “You don’t have to impress me, Harls. I love you.”

Harley, in typical Harley fashion, vibrates with energy. “But…I want this to be special. As special as y--”

“This vacation already is special. Cause you’re here with me.”

“But--” I’m not that special, Harley wants to say. But she knows Ivy won’t let her get away with saying that out loud. She wants to crawl underneath the tablecloth and hide until Ivy leaves. They always leave in the end. Once they get what they want. Mistah J--

“I love you, Harley Quinn.” Ivy takes her hand, gently, rubbing her thumb over her knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

And maybe. Maybe it’s that she doesn’t know what to do if Ivy stays. It’s easier to love someone who doesn’t love her back. It’s safe. Ahem. Emotionally safe, Dr. Quinzel says inside her head. For once, Harley has nothing to say. She’s too busy trying to keep the tears from falling.

“You don’t have to do anything. I already love you.” Ivy bites her lip--the way she always does when she’s thinking hard. Like how best to resurrect a drooping petunia or a rose bush that has a pest. She takes a deep breath, steeling herself. “And if it’s not too much--too early--to say this: I always will.”

“You proposin’ or somethin’?” The words tumble out of Harley’s mouth before she can stop them. Her cheeks feel like they’re blushing as bright as Ivy’s hair.

“I…” Ivy’s eyes widen. “I-I don’t have a ring on me.”

Shit. Fuck. ShitshitshitFuuuuuuuuuck. “I’msorryIdidn’tmeanit.” “It’s way too soon.” Harley puts on her best brave face--the same one she always put on when Bats showed up and Mistah J magically was nowhere to be found. “Marriage is so outda--”

“Harley.” Ivy puts her entire hand over her face. “Quinn.” “I never said I didn’t want to marry you.”

“Mmphwr?”

“Who wouldn’t want to marry Harley Quinn? You’re amazing.” She traces her eyebrows. “You’re the smartest person I know.” Boops her nose. “You’re impossible to kill. Holy fuck.” Runs her fingertip across her bottom lip. “You…” Ivy presses her lips together, looking down at the table. “You helped me love again when I hated everyone.”

“Pam.” Fuck, she’s getting misty eyed.

“I mean it. I was ready to wipe humanity off the map and start over.” She laughs a little, her voice rough as she wipes her cheek with the back of her hand. “But then you came along and nominated yourself my new shrink.”

“Don’t give me all the credit.” Wow, okay. Maybe she’s more than just misty-eyed. “You saved me too. From Mistah Jay. From Bats. From what woulda been a really boring life.”

Ivy’s smile slips slightly. “You’re not gonna die on me, are you Harls?”

Harley squeezes her hand. “Nah. You’re stuck with me.” Her words come out a little thick. “For richer or poorer.”

Her lover leans in close, capturing her lips in a warm kiss. “That’s usually pretty literal for you.”

“HEY.”

“It’s true! Guess I’ll have to see if Ace or maybe Lexcorp has any funds they won’t miss. I need to get that ring soon. Garnet? Spinel maybe?”

“Aww, shucks. How am I gonna be surprised now?”

Ivy scoffs. “If it’s a real surprise, it’s not a good time for a proposal.”

“But what if I want to be like those girls in those Tik Toks? Like where you propose to me but like I got my own box in my pocket?”

“Harley. A ring box wouldn’t fit in your tiny ass pockets, and you know it.”

“You know what would fit in my shorts?”

“Harleen Francis Quinzel.” Her laughter dissolves in a kiss and Harley pulls her back to their suite. They got a lot of planning to do. Though Harley has a pretty good feeling they’re not gonna get a whole lot of planning done today. But Harley’s okay with that. Pam’s always been the top of her to-do list anyway.

#harlivy #DC comics #poisonquinn #harley quinn #poison ivy #clock king #fluff isn't my usual so PLEASE tell me what you think #so sugary sweet you're gonna need to brush your teeth #melody writes #fluff

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