#the fun thing about his ear being fucked up is that he could feasibly be any human-looking race lmao

[theartisticintrovert]

Commission Me! (Regular | Furry)

so overlord finished, which means new campaign time! it's finally, FINALLY time for my undead cowboy to shine!!! everyone, i'd like to introduce you to silas kelly, a character that started as a joke that i got unreasonably attached to. he's inspired by the song "hell's coming with me" by poor man's poison, and when i introduced the concept to my friends one of them (the dm for this campaign) liked the concept so much that he spawned an entire homebrew world, story, and campaign around him.

i've never been more flattered, honestly. it had to be reworked a teeny bit to be a multiplayer rather than solo campaign, but it worked out! now my amnesiac bastard has friend! just one right now, hopefully that changes.

not pictured: his trusty revolver, aka his main weapon of choice, holstered under his coat. because of course a western-themed campaign has guns who do you take us for. aiden was even nice enough to let me use divine smite (usually a melee-only feat) with it, so long as i agreed to give up one of my oath feats at level 3. not a hard choice at all, considering there's no reason to use abjure enemy when i have a gun.

#silas kelly #reborn #dungeons and dragons #dnd #d&d #paladin #cowboy #ty's oc box #dnd: guns and rust #the fun thing about his ear being fucked up is that he could feasibly be any human-looking race lmao #human? sure. half-elf? why not. he has no obvious infernal features like horns but otherwise? who knows! #certainly not him! hell he doesnt even know how long hes been DEAD let alone what he was when he was ALIVE lmao #neither do i tbh; mostly bc it doesnt matter but also bc i think its funny #anyway you know how monks cast fist? yeah silas casts GUN #took the blessed warrior fighting style so he's got cantrips too! toll the dead and word of radiance #his partner is a cleric so i joked that he learned them from watching her while they fought lmao #'that's not how this works??' #'what do you mean. you pray and spells happen. i pray and spells happen. simple enough.' #'but you have to SHOOT??????????' #'i dont see your point' #my art

[cinderswife]

happy new year! as a treat, i have finished snow's outfits :D she's the last in the series after cinders and rose :3 as always, lore under the cut!

nude

much like cinders, snow was designed to be in compliment to rose! we know from the album that she was beautiful and had long black hair but beyond that i wanted to make sure she looked like she could feasibly be rose's sister. she is also a bear girl <3

snow is fat! it was very important to me that she was fat with stretch marks and still extremely beautiful. so, here she is !!

i gave her a beauty mark because it's very classic hollywood beauty

you also probably couldn't actually see her tail at this angle because tiny bear tail but its so cute!

since this is pre becoming general white, she's a lot softer and gentler than her sister

fun fact: snow is actually her middle name but nobody ever calls her by her first name adelaide ever

also. this woman is so busy do you think she has the time to think about her gender and sexuality ever

dressing gown

snow is exceptionally wealthy and powerful so of course she has a monogrammed silk dressing gown. she doesn't actually wear it to sleep; she overheats way too quickly so she wears very little to bed.

entering the first appearance of snow's favorite color to wear: light blue!

yes, snow is wearing a wedding ring. since she's 29 and the head of a noble house, i figured she would be married. it was an arranged marriage to darr, the youngest child of some count somewhere because ze is entirely unambitious and willing to let snow do her thing

they also have a son together. his name is eret, he is 3, he looks up to auntie rose a little too much, his favorite animals are snakes and penguins, and he will quote space-disney at you incessantly.

duchess work dress

snow is the grand duchess of the duchy of delinore. she is the only grand duchess in the entire empire; this is the title that is equivalent to crown prince. yes she is technically his majesty king cole's heir due to being the current hereditary grimm on the throne of delinore. this is mostly a ceremonial fact since his majesty is immortal. delinore is 12 inhabited planets large and covers an entire star system which makes her perhaps the most powerful woman in the galaxy. snow is very tired all the time.

i was watching disney's snow white while designing this and the next outfit; i really like the blue and yellow look on her

this is a modular outfit! she can put on and take off the vest and cape depending on how formal she needs to be.

snow wears a lot of jewelry. this earring and necklace set was an anniversary present from her spouse!

the silver circlet atop her head is that of the duchess. you'll see it in almost every other outfit afterwards; it's like a wedding ring but for her noble status

court of stars

as his majesty's heir, snow is required to take part in the irregular meetings of his majesty's inner court: the court of stars. much of the lesser laws are handled by the council of stars and the other, lesser nobility. full disclosure: snow fucking hates this. she uses her position to do much good in the world and views his majesty like an extremely shitty and powerful grandfather she has to put up with in order to do what she needs to do. if the wedding day slaughter hadn't happened, she would still have eventually caused his death through an insane game of "political assassination cat and mouse." Y'know, different from the war.

this is the evil queen type fit. i just wanted to draw her as an evil queen okay

lorewise, this is the ceremonial outfit of her status tailored to her feminine appearance. black and red cape, deep purple dress, shiny gold jewelry, all designed to be as evil as possible

the bear clasp is the same as rose's! its the grimm family's symbol (cuz. they're all bears lol)

the dress sparkles like stars

she absolutely didn't have to go this hard with the makeup but she had fun with it. a small relief when dealing with his majesty

basically i just went really hard on the star motif

the crown is the ceremonial black iron crown of the grand duke that only ever comes out in court meetings. it's a smaller version of his majesty's black iron crown. its really heavy :(

casual

the return of the blue and yellow! this is snow's favorite color combo to wear ever <3

snow likes to wear pants when she doesn't have to deal with the many duties of being the grand duchess. it's her casual fit!

this particular set of jewelry has the snowflake motif. it's extremely on the nose which is why she likes it.

i dunno what tank tops with the extra shoulder straps are called but i thought it suited her <3

she would fully wrestle rose in this fit btw. she wouldn't win but it'd be fun!

ballgown

snow's ballgown for wearing to formal events (that she typically hosts). technically she owns a lot more, but this one is representative of her usual style. the bodice is typical, though it is a bit risque because it has no sleeves. the skirt is even moreso but she pulls it off because of her status and because she is commonly named the most beautiful woman in all the galaxy.

i thought it would be fun to put her in red! its such a loaded color in ouatis but she really pulls it off

and here's the light yellow she's so fond of <3

the boots are big and shiny and quite excessive; fully a display of wealth (especially since she's showing them off)

the drape of her skirt, rather than being modest and layered like cinders', is very form fitting and attention grabbing even without the slit

she would put her hair up but i did not have the patience to try and redraw her hair more than i had to lol

the gold jewelry she wears is big and heavy and almost armor-like. she likes it a lot

she put glitter on her makeup for this one <3

#the mechanisms #ouatis #once upon a time in space #once upon a time (in space) #snow ouatis #planet's doodles #planet's worldbuilding #snow my beloved snow she is so. <3 #verse: dog star in ursa major

[headingalaxys-spicy]

the sun, the devil, temperance, and the tower for 1p allies? you can include spain/romano too if you wanna but you don’t have to :3

Since the character limit is 5 I will be picking 3 of the Allies because I also need to get more Spain and Romano content on here.

😈Devil- What Taboo things would this Yandere do to their darling?

🌞Sun-Would this Yandere feel content with their situation?

🤲Temperance- What made this person Yandere for their darling?

🗼Tower-If this Yandere saw their darling in danger how would they react?

🇺🇸 America 🇺🇸

😈Devil- He would peer pressure you into drinking more than your body can tolerate and use this as a sneaky way to have his way with you later.

🌞Sun- If he has you within his grasp such as your living with him or he is a superior at your workplace who can abuse his privileges over you as someone on the lower ring.

🤲Temperance- You’re cute and sweet. In the one interaction, you had with him crept into his mind and played like a love song that he was addicted to. He needed more. Your cheerful demeanor was the catalyst that made him fantasize daily about what your life could be like if the two of you were married.

🗼Tower- Heaven hath mercy on anyone who touches his sweet doll or if he saw that you were trapped in a fire with no feasible way out. Fuck waiting for the fire department. He’s going in to save his darling.

“I’m here y/n! Sweetheartit’s okay I’m your hero and I’m here to rescue you!” He’ll shout over the blaze as he himself gets scathed.

(Alright these taboos and situations are based off, on what I read in travel guides for other nations and what they deem to be rude/disrespectful etc. So here we go a Murican trying to write about it. Have fun with my cringe I do my best to be realistic but yeah I knida miss the mark sometimes.)

🇫🇷 France 🇫🇷

👿Devil- He will show up at your apartment unannounced. Just to check up on you.

🌞Sun- Depends heavily on the type of relationship he has with you. If you’re at least friends with him he’s content. For now. But that won’t hold indefinitely. He’s going to want to make that jump into being lovers. And he will use his knowledge of romance to get there.

🤲Temperance- The way that you decided to put on your eyeliner and toss on a cute (f/c) Flannel shirt wooooooo sis you blow his mind and he’s not one smitten Frenchman. It’s rare that anyone can make him swoon and it’s only ever happened twice in history.

(Joan and the girl that reminds him of her.)

🗼Tower- If he ever saw his lover in danger he’s going to do all that he can to save you and even transform into his magical girl strike version and save you in the most fabulous way. Magical Girl France is here to save the day.

🍝🇮🇹Romano 🇮🇹🍝

👿Devil- He greets you with a hug and kiss in front of many other Italians. He also has a tendency to stare at you openly while you’re working. He likes the look of concentration you always have on your face when you do so.

🌞Sun- Yes, Romano is more of a laid back and underneath his gruffness, he’s a sweet Yandere. (sometimes) He will need your undivided attention so that he can vent about the state of his life. He will pour out his heart and talk about his inadequacies and insecurities. It’s best you listen in on when he has rare moments like this. Unless you want to see the badass Yandere Mafia! Romano comes out. And trust me he’s not nearly as fun or willing to show his soft side.

🤲Temperance- Regardless of your gender identity ( it’s canon that he’s nicer to women than he is to men to whom of which he’s really rude) You were diligently carrying out your duties as a (new) server at his favorite Italian restaurant and he was shaving an extremely shitty day and he decided he was going to forward those emotions on to you because you’re in the vicinity.

The dude gave you an earful when you brought him water with no ice in it, he insulted the shoes you had on, and overall he was any server's worst nightmare. Thought it all you were patient and held your smile high in the face of his tirade at you. You still gave him the best service. You even went so far as to give him a complementary Cannoli with a note that said ‘Feel better. I hope this helps.’ :)

*cue Romano’s heart exploding in his chest*

He will come back on a daily basis just to see you and memorize your schedule. He was nicer to you and left amazing tips whenever you served him.

🗼Tower- He’d do all that he could to help/ save you, even if he’s shanking in his boots he’ll help you.

🇪🇸 Spain 🇪🇸

😈Devil- He will talk to you about converting to Catholicism and will try hard to do so. Whatever it takes to get you into a stunning catholic church where you will be wed to him. Doesn't matter to him if you’re an atheist, Muslim, Jewish etc he’s going to do his best to break down your beliefs so that you can match the perfect design that he’s crafted in his head.

🌞Sun- Depends on how well he’s broken you down as a person and how well you treat him as a lover. Sure, he acts dumb and docile but underneath the facade is a elder pirate captain that has pillaged many villages just for fun and to make a point. Just because it’s modern times doesn’t mean those tendencies are non-existent.

🤲Temperance- Your passion for your work like drawing, singing, writing etc, was the initial pull for him. The more you elaborated on why you love what you do sealed your fate to him as a romantic target.

🗼Tower- You’re a daredevil. Meaning you wanted to do all the most dangerous stuff that his country could offer. You wanted to run with the bulls, canoe in the wild rivers of Andalusia, and hike in El Caminito del Ray. Antonio would only allow you to do the last option because it’s hiking and since 2015 and the renovations that the Spanish government put forth to make it a safe and stable area. Then he received that fateful call from the Spanish authorities that you were injured on some jagged rocks and fucked up your leg in several different places. Oh boy once you are back in Antonios' arms after the help of the nurses, climbers, and rescuers that helped you, you goin be on lockdown for the foreseeable future.

🇷🇺 Russia 🇷🇺

😈Devil- When he first meets you he’ll joke about you becoming his mail order bride because you’re too lonely for anyone else to have.

🌞Sun- He will only be content if you become one with him.

🤲Temperance- You drew him to you with your charm. The fact that you remind cordial to him even when his threatening aura had come out to play along with general winter. He threatened you subtly while you were working.

‘They can withstand the pressure’ he will have the ever present smile on his face as he muses

🗼Tower- There will be hell to pay during and after he rescues you.

#hetalia #hetalia fandom #hws #hws america #headingalaxys writes stuff #alfred f jones #yandere hetalia #headingalaxys #yandere russia #yandere america x reader #yandere america #hetalia fanfic writers #hetalia fanfiction writers #ヘタリア #yandere france #yandere x reader #yandere spain #yandere romance #yandere italy #yandere #hetalia headcanons

[secondhand-trash]

Centrifugal Force

Kinktober 2020 — sex swing

A/N: I struggled MAJORLY with this one and especially because I started a new job around the same time I got stuck on this so I put it to the side for a while (a while means a week, I worked on this for a week). I do hope it turns out decent hhhh

Pairing: Akaashi Keiji x f!reader

Description: An unconventional gift from his friends opened up a whole new world for the both of you.

Warning: sex swing (does this count as some type of bondage idk tbh), face fucking, vaginal penetration, creampie

Word count: 3026

-

It started as a harmless joke.

The news of the former setter’s successful proposal subsequently revived the Fukurodani volleyball club group chat from the state of a few messages here and there during birthdays and holidays to what could rival its bombard of messages at it’s prime. The messages poured in almost immediately as the news went live with a subtle picture of the silhouettes of your bodies embraced together against the glimmering sea, the subtle spark of the diamond on your finger almost unnoticeable under the dark sky.

“We should do something for Akaashi and y/n!” the former captain said in the chat, accompanied with a dozen of emojis that looked like the text came straight out of a spam bot’s chat history.

And so a new group chat was formed, one without the groom-to-be. At some point, they added people from other schools who might be able to make a valid contribution. It ended up being chaos, utter chaos as they probably should have expected. Suggestions were all over the place, some seemingly more reasonable while others might earn them a stern glare from the one member who was missing from the chat. They ended up listing everything out and doing a draw to see what they should do, handing the job of making the randomisation to poor Tsukishima who really, really did not ask for this.

The chat fell into silence for a while, everyone waiting for Tsukishima to show up again bearing the final results.

The speech bubble popped up, only for it to go back down after a short few seconds before it showed up again. Everyone watched as Tsukishima typed and stopped and typed again, until he sent out a screenshot that had everyone freezing in place.

Until everyone started cussing out the one person who suggested that sending a sex swing to a newly engaged couple was a good idea.

-

Akaashi was certain that the delivery came to the wrong address when he got the parcel.

“Hm? But it specifically says it’s for mr Akaashi Keiji?”

Akaashi stared at the very tall, very large box with a lot of concern and an equal amount of guesses as to what it might be in his head. It really had his name on the receipt with no sender, so it was not a mistake on the shipment agent’s part. 

He wasn’t sure if he wanted to keep opening the parcel or not when he sliced the seals open to find a card laying on top.

“We hope you will have fun with this but if you don’t, just know that it is Kuroo’s suggestion. Congratulations on the engagement!”

Akaashi felt his head pound at the letters that were scrawled on the piece of paper. He had a bad feeling on what it might be, and it seemed like his predictions were correct when he moved the card away to see the label plastered across the items in the parcel.

Akaashi was not usually a foul-mouthed person, but what the fuck was this supposed to mean?

“Keiji, what is this-” you peered over his shoulder to see what he was crouching over, and stopped in place when you saw what was inside, “why, I didn’t know you’re into this...”

“I did not get this...”

“If I knew you were interested I would have brought it up way earlier-” you paused, your eyes meeting with his widening ones as your hands froze mid-air, “oh.”

He blinked, watching as you slowly flickered your gaze away from him with a sheepish smile. “Oh.”

Akaashi had never really thought much about sex swings, if he had to be very honest. It just didn’t seem practical or all that feasible for apartment living. But that night, when you hooked your legs onto the hooks that dangled off the frame, your face physically burning up with your body being completely exposed under his attentive stare as your legs parted and swayed as your hands gripped tightly onto the handle. The strap sat right below your ass, arching you up and presenting your bare cunt to him as you leaned back against the supportive strap at the back.

“Don’t just stare...” you muttered, feeling very small as he just stood there and raked his eyes all over your frame.

He let out a soft gasp at the way you fell back when he ran his finger up your sex, every heave of your chest and curl of your toe completely within his view as he slowly rubbed his finger against your folds.

You were completely wrecked that night, your voice hoarse after he made you cum again and again on his cock with his hands on the suspensions, slamming you down on him with a brute force that had you seeing stars with each swing of your hips forward. The adrenaline rush he felt when he pulled out of you and watched his cum dripped between your legs onto the floor was unreal, your cunt clenching around nothing as they laid bare for him to see. 

He decided on the spot that he was going to keep the swing as he helped you down from the seat, your body slumping onto his arms immediately as your knees bucked the moment you finally touched the floor again.

-

“My, my, look at you...”

Your breath hitched at the voice that rang behind you, a soft whimper escaping your lips when you felt his warm palm pressing onto the small of your back.

Akaashi admired the way your body was held up so perfectly by the suspensions as you laid stomach first on the seat. The support on your torso had you arching your back up, your ass perching mid-air as your legs were strapped onto the two cuffs at the side. He could see the way your folds were fluttering from the position, taking note of how you seemed to be turned on just from being laid out on your fours for next time. Your body spun just slightly as the suspensions twisted under your weight, letting him take a good look of you from each angle as he held onto the straps that led to the handles your hands were gripping onto for dear life.

You whimpered when he slid the metal frame of his glasses off the bridge of his nose with two nimble fingers and he chuckled at the reaction. You could see the glint in his eyes clearly now that the two lenses were gone, goosebumps rising on your skin at the amused smile that accompanied the glimmer in his slanted eyes.

“Beautiful.”

A soft peck on the lips when he kneeled down in front of you set your skin aflame, the barest bit of contact making you ache for more when he pulled back after the light touch. He cooed when you chased his lips after pulling away, his hand running along the suspension belt to trace along your fingers that were latching onto the handle.

“Gonna be good for me?” he hummed at your eager nod in response to his question, the way you arched your ass up further did not go unnoticed by him.

“Good girl,” he muttered under his breath, his hand going down to take his cock in hand as he gave it a languish pump. He let out a content sigh and the sound made your mouth run dry, poking your tongue out to wet your lips as he deliberately distanced himself as his length filled and warmed in his hand. 

Your body was pushed back when he fisting your hair in his free hand and yanked your head back. A slight tap at your cheek with his hard tip was the only signal you needed to open your mouth up, holding back the urge to whine when he placed his cock on your tongue that was flat against the base of your jaw. Your drool was pooling up in your mouth as he just held it there, the weight making it hard for you to focus on your breathing as heat spread across your face from the burning shaft against your warm muscle.

An unexpectant thrust had you gagging around his girth, the snap of his hips jerking you away from him before gravity slammed you right back down. The soreness at the back of your throat shot right up to your nose, prickling tears at the corner of your eyes. 

He gritted, through clenched teeth, pulling your hair taut against your scalp as he set a vigorous pace, each gag as the tip of your nose brushed past the tuff of hair at his base sending vibrations to the center of his stomach. His hand that was holding on the suspension that held you up clenched around the rope, swinging you back and forth simultaneously with each move of his pelvis, the tightening of your throat had him shoving you down just a little deeper at a sudden lack of control. The handle that was in your hand was the only thing you could hold on for leverage but it did nothing to stop the way your body met him mid-thrust as you swayed helplessly on the swing. 

You felt your inner walls clench at the rough treatment, the burn in your throat prickling through the back of your scalp and melting into a numbing shock. In this sate, you were nothing but a few holes for him to use and the sheer control he had over you made your next gag came out as something resembling a whimper.

The sound of his cock gliding against your drooling lips was sloppy in your ear. He grunted when he pulled away all of a sudden, feeling a power rush at how you still hung your jaw slack with your tongue lolled out even as you had nothing to wrap your lips around. Your eyes were glassy from the tears, the silver string of spit that coated the tip of his cock and your bottom lip was nowhere near graceful. You huffed, struggling to regain your breaths temporarily as he held your head still. You whined when he rubbed his tip around the rim of your mouth, the leaking bead of pre-cum and your drool messing you up as the substance threatened to slide down your chin.

He arched your head back, admiring his handiwork as he stared down at you. The sharp gaze as he inspected your opened-mouth and white trails darting all over your chin had you letting out a muffled whine, your tongue still extended and slack against your bottom lip in an attempt to please him.

“Ah...” he let out an approving note from the back of his throat and the gravel lingering his voice made you shiver, “keep that mouth open for me, won’t you?”

You could not utter a word of response, only able to let out a muffled whimper when he took a stride until he was right behind you. Jolts of numbing shock rushed through your body when he trailed the very tip of his index finger along your spine as he moved, the lightest of contact eliciting goosebumps on every inch of your skin. You still felt the phantoming feeling on your back when he lifted his finger with a tread, the edge of his well-trimmed nails barely scraping against your skin. 

Your back arched uncontrollably under the tingles and pushing your ass further up, which was met with a pleased caress of his palm against your perched hips.

A firm smack against your flesh had your entire body swinging forward, the force that brushed past your skin when you rocked backwards from the swing had you clenching and moaning through parted lips as the sting settled in. Akaashi took in the way your ass jiggled and especially how your core was glistening with the sheen of your arousal right in front of his eyes. You whimpered when he held you still by your thighs, hilting the swinging of your frame to a stop as he lined his tip at your drooling cunt. 

“Hugn-”

Your eyes rolled back when he pushed in inch by inch, his eyes glued onto the sight of your folds sucking his cock in greedily as your spit that coated his length mixed in with the mess that was dripping down from the root of your thighs. He let out a sigh when he sheathed inside of you, the plump curves of your hips pressing right against his pelvis as he hilted balls deep in you. Your shoulders were tensing up as your hands gripped vice at the handle, each huff that slipped off your lips made his blood curl. The soft whimper you let out when he took his hands off your legs was like a mewl, your walls clamping down around him as you were once again at the mercy of nothing holding you up but the seat and cuffs.

One push of his hands on the sling shoved you off his cock only for you to slam down in full force when he rocked you backwards. You let out a broken cry at the sudden stretch, throwing your head back when he pulled out all the way only to plow deep in you as the swing sent you jolting back. You could do nothing but moan and scream as he took advantage of the swing, his fingers curled around the suspensions that linked to what cuffed your legs down with each handling of your body. 

Each push and pull was in perfect timing with his thrusts, the swoosh of the seat meeting his bucking hips midway to pulse into you until his hard tip was kissing the spot right below your cervix. He showed no sign of slowing down, grunts and hisses seeping from his gritted teeth as he was wrapped around your warm walls, feeling your insides taking him in like it could not get enough every time he threatened to pull out with a shove of your body forward.

He could not get enough of seeing your shaking frame and the soft flesh of your body jiggling under his force, your skin heating up with each slam of his pelvis against you and his balls slapping against your clit that was already puffy from the sensation. You were sure to feel him in you for days even after he pulled out, his cock drilling in you like he was determined to bruise you up until you were reminded of how he could make you break for him with each buck of your knees even as your feet touch the ground once again.

You were panting with each slap of his skin against yours, the erratic breathing made all the more difficult as you struggle to keep your mouth open as he had asked you to. The violent sway of your body together with each hilt of his cock in you made you feel light headed, as if your world was spinning both literally and figuratively. The waves of your orgasm ripped through your body as a numbing chill, making the tip of your ears heated up until you could not feel it within your burning senses anymore. Akaashi grunted at the feeling of your fluttering folds around his girth, your pulsing walls that hugged him closely from you crashed down making him all the more eager to have his way with you. You let out a weak whine when you felt his fingers digging into your hips, roughly parting the flesh to watch as his cock disappeared in you with each slam. Without his hands controlling the swing, the way your body moved with gravity was much sloppier but so much more forceful as it swung back and forth from nothing but the snapping of his hips.

You whined when he held you close, the sudden stop making your head dipped forward and your body tilting down. The strings of warmth that filled you up with a choked moan from the man behind you had your vision hazy, his cock pulsing in you as he shot his load inside your abused walls in the intimate position. He pressed you against him for a brief moment, drinking in the feeling of your bodies being so rawly connected before finally letting gravity took its charge.

Your jaw was slack as you lazily retracted your tongue, a whimper rolling off your lips at the sudden emptiness when he pulled out of you. Sparks lit up on your skin when he put his thumbs on both sides of your slip, pulling it apart to see your fluttering folds pushing his cum out of you. The sticky substance seeped out of you bit by bit, dripping onto the floor as you laid on the seat limply and too fucked out of your mind to even push yourself up.

“Think you need help getting down?” he asked with a light chuckle, his hand running along your leg in a soothing manner before carefully uncuffing your ankles and rubbing against the marks that were left.

“Please do...” you muttered, leaning into his touch when he got in front of you and leaned your upper body against his chest. You nearly put all your weight on him when he helped you down from the seat, your hands flailing to grip onto something only for him to prop you up with his hand under your arms.

You laughed when he slipped his hand under your knees, using the last bit of energy in you to hop up so he could carry you in his arms.

“We should really let them know that they picked a really good gift...” you mumbled as he carried you to the bathroom.

He paused, before shaking his head, “No, I think it’s better to not give them any more ideas.”

There was no way he was going to let anyone know what you were up to in the bedroom, less he wanted them to never stop bringing it up.

#haikyuu imagines #haikyuu imagine #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu smut #akaashi x reader #akaashi imagines #akaashi imagine #akaashi smut #kinktober 2020

[heauxplesslydevoted]

Hi there! We're changing things up a little this week :)

Not Yet Wed Questions

Note: Great Scott! This week, we are going back in time to MC’s intern year. Think of Ethan’s relationship with them at this point and answer the following questions accordingly. It is entirely up to you when in year 1 this takes place (pre/post Miami, pre/post CH 15, etc). Feel free to answer with dialogue or pictures or both :) Have fun!

No worries. All of this is off the record and HR will never know!

The setting for this answers is:

For Both

When I first saw them, I thought__________

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Three people at work your coworker hates?

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

(Bonus round! Feel free to skip.)

Never have I Ever:

come into work hungover

had a fistfight

been kicked out of a bar

gotten a tattoo

broken someone’s heart

been in love

For MC (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Last thing he texted you?

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

For Ethan (MC is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Last thing she texted you?

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Alright, post Book 1 but pre-Ethan fleeing to South America Ethan x Naomi coming right up! I feel like that time would have maximum tension because they’re trying to find their footing again after fucking the souls out of each other’s bodies and sending them into orbit, and lowkey falling in love sleeping together, while maintaining professionalism.

~v~

For Both:

When I first saw them, I thought__________

Naomi: I thought “thank God someone else is here!” I was in over my head with that patient, and I didn’t even notice that The Ethan Ramsey was the one assisting me until much later.

Ethan: I thought she had guts. You don’t see too many first day interns that are ready to jump into the fray like she did.

What is your coworker's most used swear word?

Naomi: He says Christ and any iteration of the word damn. Dammit, goddamn, goddammit, you get the gist.

Ethan: She says fuck.

Naomi: You’ve never heard me say that.

Ethan: She says fuck a lot, especially when she’s...*Ethan trails off and catches himself before he finishes that sentence. It’s a moot point all the same because now all he can think about is the young intern in front of him, hands pulling his hair, nails raking down his back, moaning the obscenity into his ear, into his pillows. He awkwardly clears his throat* Just trust me, I’ve heard her say it. Multiple times.

*and now he’s mad at himself*

Quick: What color are their eyes?

Naomi: Blue. They’re kinda hard to miss.

Ethan: Her eyes are brown.

Three people at work your coworker hates?

Naomi: He hates everyone, except for me and Naveen.

Ethan: Except for you? You think pretty highly of yourself, Rookie.

Naomi: Am I wrong? *Ethan doesn’t deny it, instead staying silent and Naomi smirks* Exactly

Ethan: I don’t think she dislikes anyone. I’ve never met a person like her, she makes friends with everyone.

What is your coworker’s strangest or most endearing quirk?

Naomi: He fiddles with his glasses a lot.

Ethan: She’s constantly biting her lip, especially when she’s really focused.

*she’s actually surprised that he picked up on that* Naomi: You notice that?

Ethan: I notice everything...about everything. It’s the nature of the job.

If they had a crush on anyone at work, who would that be?

*they both share an awkward glance before looking away and declining to answer*

Never Have I Ever...

Come into work hungover

Ethan: When I was younger, yes. But now that I’m older, I know my limits.

Naomi: No, because I don’t get hangovers due to my magical hangover cure.

Ethan: That god-awful drink is...surprisingly effective.

*the interviewer asks Ethan to elaborate on the time Naomi gave him whatever her hangover cure is, and he adamantly refuses*

Had a fistfight

Naomi: Yes, but in my defense I was drunk.

Ethan: *snorts* How is that a defense?

Naomi: I’m the daughter of an attorney, I usually try to resolve my issues with my words. But drunk Naomi is a little feistier.

Ethan: You mean you have a level of feistiness that I’ve yet to see?

Naomi: Oh yeah. Anyway, I was in college, I was drunk at a bar, someone spilled a drink on me, and it escalated. I think I broke her nose.

Ethan: An arrest record wasn’t on your file when we hired you.

Naomi: Like I said, I’m the daughter of an attorney, and the granddaughter of a DC judge. That has its perks.

Ethan: Yes, I’ve gotten into a fist fight before. I punched Nash in the face. And before that, i fought my old med school roommate.

Naomi: Ooh, what did he do?

Ethan: That’s not a story I’d ever divulge while sober.

Been kicked out of a bar

Naomi: Yes. Circle back to the previous question.

Ethan: No, because I’m an adult.

Gotten a tattoo

Ethan: Absolutely not

Naomi: I have a tattoo of the Cancer symbol on my left hip. It’s my zodiac sign.

*this stuns Ethan into silence because he’s seen her naked on more than one occasion and been...very well acquainted with the body parts below her waist, and for the life of him cannot remember a tattoo*

Broken someone’s heart

Naomi: No. At least, I don’t think so. I’ve had my heart broken, if that counts.

Ethan: Same as Naomi. I don’t think I have.

*they make a pointed effort to not make eye contact with each other, and Naomi bites down on her lip, letting the silence hang in the air. The alternative would be informing Ethan that he has indeed broken someone’s heart, and that just won’t do.*

Been in love

Naomi: I don’t know. Maybe? I thought I was in love with my med school boyfriend, but now that time has passed, I know that wasn’t love. At least, not the good kind. And there was a near miss after him, but nothing came out of it. The emotions were a lot stronger the second time around though, and i think it’s the closest I’ve come to it this far. I’m a hopeless romantic, so I hope I find it someday.

Ethan: No. Call me a cynic, but I just don’t see love as something that’s feasible and attainable. Putting that much trust and dependency in another person is not realistic.

For Naomi (Ethan is not there)

Where do you see him in five years (both professionally and in his personal life?)

Naomi: I don’t know what’s left for a man like Ethan Ramsey. He’s already done so much in the field of medicine, unless he reinvents the entire wheel and turns it upside down, which I can see him doing. I can see him writing more, publishing more research, and of course winning more awards. If he wasn’t so anti-administration, he could be running this place. Or maybe he’ll start his own non-profit.

Naomi: As far as his personal life, I don’t know. You heard loud and clear that he doesn’t really believe in love. I hope one day he changes his mind or finds a companion, because underneath his extremely prickly exterior, he’s one of the best men I know and he has a heart of gold. He deserves the chance to let someone take care of it for him.

What do you find the most impressive about him?

Naomi: From afar, Ethan seems very larger than life, but I think the most impressive thing about him is his dedication to not just medicine, but his patients. I’ve never seen him not go above and beyond for someone he was treating.

Last thing he texted you?

Naomi: “Please consult Diana in HR regarding your official diagnostic team fellowship application. I know this year has been unorthodox to say the least, but there are still some steps that must be taken before the start of your second year. Thank you.”

Naomi: I’ve never received a text message that long.

If he asked you out on a date, what would you say?

*her cheeks heat up furiously and she pulls her bottom between her teeth before answering, her eyes bright and watery*

Naomi: Am I a total glutton for pain for saying I’d jump at the chance?

For Ethan (Naomi is not there)

Where do you see her in five years (both professionally and in her personal life?)

Ethan: Dr. Valentine has so much potential and she’s going to be one of the greats. She’s going to be running the diagnostics team if she chooses to stay at Edenbrook, and I can’t see Naveen not trying to keep her here. She’s going to win awards, have awards named after her, publish research, lead trials, whatever. I hate to sound banal and cliche, but the sky really is the limit for her. I chose her for a reason, and I plan her helping her reach all of that potential.

Ethan: As for her personal life, I don’t know. Hopefully she finds someone that’s good enough for her.

What specifically do you find attractive about her?

Ethan: A-attractive? *the word comes out in a squeak, but he coughs to cover it up* Why on earth would you assume that I’m attracted to her?

*he goes on a ridiculously long tangent about how inappropriate it is to be attracted to your coworkers, especially your subordinates, and how he would never jeopardize Naomi’s career on something as trivial as attraction, and anyone with an ounce of common sense can tell that he doth protest too much*

Ethan: But if I absolutely had to pick something besides her good looks, it’d be her spirit. She’s warm and empathetic and optimistic, and I’ve never seen someone care as much as she does.

Last thing she texted you?

Ethan: “👍” I sent her a message about her upcoming fellowship and she sent back a thumbs up. Just that. I was a little annoyed.

If she asked you out on a date, how would you respond?

Ethan: As um...flattering as that might be, I would say no. I am an attending, she’s an intern, my soon to be fellow. That is crossing too many ethical lines, lines I refuse to breach.

Ethan: And I would say no because Naomi is...just a good person. And maybe I’m being biased, but I don’t know if anyone will ever be truly worthy of her. But I can say without a shadow of a doubt that she deserves so much better than me or what I could give her.

#ethan ramsey #ethan ramsey x mc #newlyweds game with your host bree

[luxekook]

chapter one.

⇥ pairing: jungkook x reader; eventual bts/ot7 x reader

⇥ genre: college au with fluff, smut & angst

⇥ summary: a series in which the reader meets (and falls for) seven members of the Beta Tau Sigma (BTS) fraternity

⇥ word count: 2.3k

⇥ warnings: 18+, cursing, dirty talk, kissing, hickies, drinking, tatted jungkook, nipple piercings

© luxekook. please do not repost, modify, edit or translate.

characters | prologue | one | two | three | four | five | six | seven | eight | nine

Chapter One

Fall of Junior Year – 8:57am

I curse every single decision that has brought me to this very moment as I power-walk across campus, sweating under the already blistering sun. Campus in August could easily be compared to a swamp given the amount of unearthly humidity, and I'm pretty sure I currently qualified as the local swamp thing.

The only positive feature in my morning has been the table of free coffee and doughnuts staffed by Student Government. The first day of the fall semester always seems to be accompanied by frantically wide-eyed freshmen and celebratory freebies. However, air conditioning is the only thing I would be celebrating today as I finally reach Tyson Hall – the destination of my 9:00am class.

As I rush to my classroom with one minute to spare, I slump into a seat in the far corner – my preferred location for people-watching out of the large windows and for getting away with doing homework for other classes.

Familiar faces surround me, an unsurprising observation given that this is our mandatory research seminar as psychology majors. I notice my friend Jenni sitting in the opposite corner, eyes glued to her phone screen.

Opening my laptop, I shoot her a text to come sit with me. Her head whips up, black braids moving every which way as she immediately piles up her things and hustles over, “(y/n), I forgot you were in this seminar! I just switched over from quantitative research because I couldn’t take any more statistics – or Dr. Harding.”

Dr. Harding is the dean of the psychology department and has been teaching here for ages. Feared by most psychology students for his tough grading and intimidating persona, he’s actually a huge softie – something I discovered by going to his office hours and seeing all 85 pictures of his grandchildren hanging throughout the room.

“He’s not that bad, Jen.”

She scoffs, “You would say that because you got an A in statistics like some sort of wizard. Besides, Dr. Newman is so much nicer.”

Jenni has an excellent point. Dr. Newman is the main reason I chose this seminar. As one of the most respected researchers at our university, she’s known for her qualitative studies on gender across cultures. I consider Dr. Newman to be a real badass woman and I lowkey stan her.

I turn to reply, but Dr. Newman begins taking attendance and class begins.

Fifty minutes later, Jenni practically drags me out of the classroom, “I cannot believe she kept us the whole 50 minutes. Is she aware that it’s syllabus week? It’s practically law to just read over the syllabus and then dismiss class. This is outrageous– (y/n), are you even listening?”

“Hmm?” I totally had tuned her out, focusing on the number of students flooding the quad. I had missed this – the rush of students heading to class, the yells of people greeting each other from entirely too far away, the buzz of excitement over potential parties…

“Unbelievable. How did I forget you have this whole weird-ass feminist crush on her?” Jenni forges forth, “It doesn’t matter. What are you doing tonight? You’re going out with us, right? Luna and I want to go to Hannigan’s.”

Since the three of us had all turned 21 over the summer, we finally could legally go to the bars in town. Hannigan’s currently holds the top spot on the list of bars that most of the upperclassman frequent. It’s a popular Irish pub downtown known for its cheap beer and mixed drinks.

It’s also BTS’s unofficial hangout – a fact that makes me slightly uneasy. After learning who the higher-ups are in BTS, I have taken to avoiding them like the plague. It was a relatively easy thing to do since the spring semester tended to be less focused on rushing and recruiting for fraternities and sororities.

But now it’s rush season, and I’m pretty much fucked. There will be no avoiding seeing BTS’s president Kim Namjoon out recruiting with his vice president Min Yoongi and his social chair Jung Hoseok. There will also be no avoiding pledge master Taehyung leading around new BTS pledges like a mother duckling. And don’t even get me started on how Kim Seokjin, Park Jimin and Jeon Jungkook will be popping up everywhere to advertise the latest BTS bash.

Sighing, I figure that the chances of actually bumping into them at the bar will be slim, given that it will most likely be super crowded and I can easily blend in.

I turn to Jenni as we keep walking towards our next classes, “Yeah, I’ll go to Hannigan’s. Are you going to come over to get ready at our place?”

Luna and I had moved into a cute little off-campus apartment over the summer. As it turned out, it’s cheaper to live off-campus than on-campus if you look hard enough. We also had it pretty good location-wise being just a few short blocks from both campus and downtown.

“Yes!” Jenni replies, slowing to a stop out front of the science building, “I’ll be over around 8 with tequila. I’ll text you later. I’ve got to go to neuro-psych lab now,” she rolls her eyes, “Hopefully we won’t be kept the whole time.”

Waving, we part ways, and I shake my head.

Tequila never leads to anything good.

Hannigan’s – 10:54pm

Fate seems to be on my side for once in my life. As soon as Luna, Jenni and I walk into Hannigan’s, my eyes are drawn to the back table where the BTS usually sits. It’s empty.

It’s practically an unspoken rule that no one else can sit there, and even though the bar is packed with all other tables accounted for, that one remains vacant – and for good reason.

Greek life essentially has a cult following around here. The Greeks provide status for those who are into that whole exclusivity thing. They also provide the best parties because of the size of their houses and because the university will never complain about one of their best sources of revenue.

I didn’t to rush a sorority way back in freshman year because I couldn’t feasibly afford it. The dues were way out of my price range, considering I was already paying for my education on my own. Luna, on the other hand, is in Epsilon Xi Delta (EXID) and consistently makes me and Jenni tag along to different Greek parties with her.

"Come on, bitches! Let's get some drinks," Jenni drags me and Luna through the packed room towards the bar that is already encircled by a crowd of thirsty students.

Tonight’s plan is simple – stick together, have fun, scope out cute seniors. Having already taken some shots before we left (saving that coin), we’re definitely feeling ourselves, flaunting our outfits like we didn’t spend a good hour picking them out earlier.

I had settled on a black t-shirt dress with a checkered flannel tied around the waist and some black Doc Martens. Luna and Jenni had tried to convince me to wear heels with them, but I knew syllabus week was a marathon – not a sprint. My feet would thank me later, and theirs would be crying.

As the bartender slides us our beers, the opening beats of Cocky AF by our badass queen Megan Thee Stallion blast through the speakers dispersed throughout the bar. Turning immediately to each other, we clink our beers together, take a sip, and head to the makeshift dance floor.

We squeeze and push our way through the masses until we reach a spot towards the back where the crowd has thinned out a little more. Within seconds, we’re in motion, hips swaying in time to Megan saying ‘bitch, I look good and you know that’.

Shaking out my hair, I get in the zone and lose count of how many songs we dance to. Eventually, our beers empty and Luna turns to me, “Another?" She accompanies her shouted question with an unnecessary charade of shot-gunning a beer in case I couldn’t hear her. I roll my eyes, laughing while I nod in response.

“Save our spot!” Jenni yells and disappears into the crowd of dancers with Luna towards the bar.

I continue dancing on my own. Swaying my hips, I decide to put my hair up to try to cool off a little in the sweltering bar. The music shifts into a new song, this one slower, more seductive, a favorite of mine – Lost in the Fire featuring The Weeknd.

As Abel’s angelic voice flows over me, a pair of hands slide over my hips from behind me. I start to pull away, but then I notice – the hands are tattooed. And for some reason, that hot little fact makes me relax into the large body behind me.

Those tattooed hands tug me back even more, bringing me flush against him as he falls into time with my movements. God, this guy can dance – a rarity these days.

His body is all hard muscle and heated skin. His mouth is hot against my neck, alternating between kissing, sucking, and biting. My skin buzzes. Fuck, I haven’t felt this way since–

Turning my head slightly, I can make out the vague outline him and it confirms my sinking suspicion... He’s a BTS boy.

"Hey, noona," he murmurs in my ear, his lips brushing over it as he speaks.

Fuck my life, I think as I shiver involuntarily in response. Spinning to face one of Satan’s henchmen, I toss my ponytail over my shoulder and jut a hip out in both defiance and defense. But really nothing could have prepared me for the sight of Jeon fucking Jungkook, the golden boy of BTS.

He somehow looks like he’s gotten even bigger since the last I saw him playing pong against Taehyung at that party – information that I cannot even comprehend. His left arm is completely tattooed, along with a few smaller ones dotting his hands. I glare at them, blaming those hands for throwing me off.

“Like them?” Jungkook waves his fingers in front of my narrowed eyes, “I got them this summer.” Smirking lazily, Jungkook makes his own perusal of me – taking extra time along the way.

His jaw flexes as his eyes turn molten, “You’re killing me, noona. Tae didn’t mention…” He trails off, swallowing hard.

I follow his gaze. Oh fuck. I had forgotten I decided to forego a regular bra tonight because I wanted to show off my piercings. Just having a thin bralette under my dress, my pierced nipples are definitely noticeable under Jungkook’s heavy stare.

Refusing to give into him, I square my shoulders, “Yeah, I got them this summer, too. But, I don’t see how that’s either your or Taehyung’s business.”

At my words, Jungkook rips his eyes away from my tits to finally meet my own eyes again, “Oh, but it really is our business. Tae said we’d like you and I agree.”

His voice is low and rough, and I swear I can feel it washing over my body, making all of my synapses fire in response.

“We?” I choked out. In full panic mode, I spin and try to leave, but I barely make it a foot away before getting stopped by a now-familiar tattooed hand wrapped around my wrist.

Luckily, a crashing sound echoes from the back table where the other BTS boys must be, and Jungkook lets out a string of curses, “Fucking hell, listen I have to go make sure no one’s hurt, or Joon will kill me. Stay here, okay? I’m not done with you, (y/n).”

His hand rushes up to the nape of my neck, pulling me into him. Our lips fuse together in a brutally hot kiss, his tongue slipping against my bottom lip for a fraction of a second.

And then he’s gone – disappearing rapidly through the fray to manage whatever trouble his frat has gotten into.

I stand there, shaking fingers on my lips wondering what the actual fuck just happened.

“Hey, sorry we took so long! This bitch cut in front of us and I swear she ordered for the entire fucking population of North America—”

Luna smacks Jenni’s arm, cutting her off, “You okay, (y/n)?” Luna peers closer at me, “Holy shit, is that a hickey?  We were only gone for 10 minutes!”

My hand flies to my neck as both Jenni and Luna grab me, dragging me to the slightly quieter back alley of the bar. As they conduct the second Spanish Inquisition, I spill the details on what happened.

After a moment of silence following my explanation, they both start talking at once:

→ Jenni: “Hell yes, girl, go off! Jeon Jungkook is fine as fuck…” → Luna: “(y/f/n) (y/m/n) (y/l/n), have you lost your damn mind…”

→ Jenni: “…I’d hit that in a heartbeat. I’m so proud!” → Luna: “…Do you not remember last semester? Are you high? Oh my GOD, did he drug you?!”

“Stop!” I slap a hand over each of their mouths, “Jesus, Mary and Joseph, you guys are impossible. I am not ‘hitting’ anything, and, no, he did not fucking drug me.”

Sighing, I continue, “It was a lapse in judgement, okay? I remember last semester more than anyone, but he’s just so powerful and I don’t seem to have any common sense around BTS.”

I take my hands away from their mouths and immediately Jenni asks, “Wait, what happened last semester?”

Luna slings an arm around my shoulder, “Come on, let’s go get pizza and a six-pack from Ralph’s. We can go out another night this week.”

“Take-out from Ralph’s?” Jenni’s eyes widen comically, “This must be major tea. Let’s go.”

Instinctively, we clink our beers together for the second time that night and chug the remainder of our bottles in true broke bitch fashion (never leave paid-for beer behind).

With that, we trek back through the door and out of the bar. We finish our night filling in Jenni with our less than savory experience with the infamous BTS fraternity last semester.

But, as I lay in bed for the night, I can’t help but wonder if Jungkook had looked for me that night after I left… Or if he told Taehyung...

taglist (message me to be added):

@catsandstrawberries​ @h5naaa​

#bts #bangtan #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #bts x reader #bts smut #bts au #bts imagine #ot7 x reader #bts ot7 #namjoon #seokjin #yoongi #hoseok #jimin #taehyung #jungkook #poly bts #college!bts #college!bangtan #frat!bts #kpop fanfic #kpop fanfiction #jungkook x reader #namjoon x reader #seokjin x reader #yoongi x reader #hoseok x reader #taehyung x reader #jimin x reader

[oh-for-fic-sake]

No Boyfriend’s

Masterlist

Henry comes home to find out his three year old princess has a boyfriend, whats a dad to do?

Warnings: swearing, fluff

A/n: so I had so much fun wrighting this fluff piece! Thank you to @jessevans​ for requesting it.

No Boyfriend's

You walked up to the preschool to pick up your daughter from her afternoon session. You had to admit when Henry had first sugested moving out of the city You had been a little skeptical. He had been adamant that he wanted your child to have a childhood much like his. Out of the hustle and bustle moving out into 'the sticks' as many londoners would call it. You'd settled in a quaint picturesque little village near Canterbury in Kent the location was perfect for henry's work with the port of dover thirty minutes away and the center of london with all the airports around an hours drive in the opposite direction it was ideal. And best of all it was out of the way and had all the amenities within the village itself a post office, shop,pub, Doctors surgery and pharmacy the local primary school and pre school was literally a five minute walk from your house and the closest secondary schools were a ten minute bus ride into canterbury itself and when the time came you had six to choose from.

The reason for the move? Your now three year old Daughter the apple of her daddies eye. You remebered the day you'd told your boyfriend you were pregnant, you'd been terrified as much as he said he wanted a family you couldnt help that twinge of doubt. But he was exstatic within moments he had darted out of the room when he returned he was clumsily trying to dial his mothers number with shaking hands tears streaming down his face as he kept asking if you were sure even when his mother picked up, you could here her laughs of joy as he told her. He paced the room leaving you to sit on the bed giggling as he refused to sit down whilst on the phone with his family every time he walked past you he move his hand pressing on Your flat tummy asif trying to feel the child already that or he was trying to imagine you with a bump and that grin? You'd never seen him smile like that before it truly melted your heart seeing him so happy. He was always and attentive boyfriend but once you was pregnant he was..Incredible always by your side when he was at home tending to your every need and he somehow managed not to be over bearing.

It was when you went to the first scan that he had proposed some might say it wasn't the most romantic but for you it was perfect! Leaving with the first photos of your little jellybean and a fiance. Fuck yes! You thought that you couldnt get any happier but then came the gender scan. You knew he didnt mind what they were but you also knew deep deep down you both wanted a little girl to coddle over and buhe wanted a daddies girl someone who he could be their knight in shining  armour. He could bearly keep still beside you holding your hand tight watching the screen trying to get a look at your little 'nugget' as he had called them he couldn't keep quiet either with every swipe of the ultrasound  wand he was changing his mind.

"Girl? Is that? I can see? nope Boy definatly boy"

"Henry babe...dont get to excited that's the umbilical cord...I think?" They were being a little bugger crossing their legs making the sonographer work hard to move them around as you had to move again and again trying to get the little one to move. Finally they spoke.

"And you two are about to have... Little....Princess! You have a baby girl on the way congratulations" you both froze looking at the screen seeing your baby...your daughter. Immediately you both burst into tears.

"A-a girl your sure?" Henry asked in a quiet shaky voice the woman smiled nodding handing you both tissues then moved slower over the child showing you exactly what she saw then printed off some of the photos for you. Once home Henry began refering to her as 'little lady' on account of her 'protecting her modesty' by crossing her legs.

It wasnt long after youd began talking about moving seroiusly, the house was big enough sure but now you knew the baby was a girl it all seemed much more real. Sure you'd both spoke about buying a house together on and off as youd moved in to his place earlier in the relationship but this time it was more feasible the idea of raising your precious little girl in the middle of london didn't bode well for Henry he was also concerned about haveing photos of her taken he was an actor hell your relationship was posted all over social media by your third date! He didn't want that attention on his daughter so you both started seriously looking. It only took another nine weeks to find a place you both fell in love with the Georgian detached house it looked like a mini manor with its decorative columns and tall windows had a huge garden to for kal it was perfect.

At six months you had a small private wedding and it was then that he anounced your marriage and baby Cavill, potsing your favourite wedding photo of you in you and Henry facing each other laughing witb your foreheads together, you were wrapped around each other as close as ou could get considering the bumb that had seemingly grown overnight his hand resting on the cute bump you were laughing because she had just kicked him when he had told you he loved you. Almost like 'dont forget about me!', Kal had photo bombed to his head poking out between your an Henry's legs smiling , a part of your flowy dress caught up on the bears ear head tilted the only one looking at the camera and in the same post he added an ultrasound of your baby girl. You got congratulations from many of yours freinds and family. And Henry's freinds and costars each wondering the same thing 'how the fuck did Henry keep it quiet?'. You wondered that as well, the hole pregnancy was just memory after memory. Henry made sure you did everything you could to document your daughters creation, you did the photo of your bump once a week the last one being you in the hospital in the middle of slow labour holding the gown tight around you a mere half hour before she was born. He had made sure you did the belly casting which had been tidied up and trimmed painted pink and was in the cupboard, then the 4d scans expensive tho they were nothing and you mean nothing compared to seeing her little face for the first time, it was then you realised she looked nothing like you! She was all her father although a slightly more feminine and less sharp and it was also there you were told she had lots od hair...Curls you felt like you'd hit the jackpot. At the birth he had been incredibly supportive until he wasn't, well you disagreed  he wanted to film it and not just your face  he wanted to film it you said no but regretted it after as it would have been solid proof of what happened.  You see one moment he was there then mid contraction....you heard quiet 'nope' a huge thump is what alerted you to his fall.... there was an alarm pressed and nurses came running in each giggleing, it was rare now days to have a fainter.

"Are you FUCKING KIDING ME?! HENRY?! OI! HERNY? CAVILL GET YOUR ASS UP!" You had to stop shouting and started breathing heavy as another contraction pulled at you once over you began barking orders to the nurses.

"KICK HIM...KICK HIM IN THE NUTS! DONT WORRY ABOUT STERILISING SUPERMAN HERE! NEVER AGAIN! HE WONT THEM TRUST ME... HENRY GET UP! ARE YOU LISTENING? STOP BEING A LITTLE BITCH! I AM NOT DOING THIS AGAIN COS HE FUCKING MISSED IT! LOOKING WHEN I TOLD HIM NOT TO!"  The nurses didn't know what to do it took three of them to place im in the chair each trying desperately not to laugh as you had a melt down screaming at him to 'wake the fuck up' You swore you even heard laugher from outside signaling that his family had heard. Yes your wonderfully supportive husband had fainted through stress? Excitment? Anxiety? Low blood sugar? Each time you asked him it had been different answer but and to quote him 'it was definitely not because I looked' which neither you or his brothers will ever believe or let him forget. Luckily he came to as you finally birthed his daughter. A stunning screaming little dark haired bundle. He sobbed when he held her for the first time leaning over her cradeling her so gently leaning over her kissing her as many time he possibly could he was the first one to hold her, hug her kiss her and change her. The photo of his first cuddle hung proudly in the hallway ,you will never forget that moment, the moment when Henry's whole world changed  you could see then just how much he had wanted this. Your daughter was going to be the luckiest little girl in the world.

Paige had grown into a daddies girl, through and through which made today much better. Henry was coming home from filming man from u.n.c.l.e he had been away for months and you had kept his arrival home a secret. Henry was going to make it home in about twenty five minutes. You stopped just before the colourfull gates unable to go in with Kal, you could see the kids lining up in twos underneath the oak tree in the small garden. You smile moving to stroke Kals ears hushing him as he barked loudly vibrating with exciment his tail thumping on the floor as he sat like the good boy he was. At his bark you could hear the kids all squeal with excitment, they loved it when you brought the 'wolf' to the preschool. It was funny hearing Paige whine to them that 'his name is Kal and he's a bear'. He was quite the spoilt pup when he helped you pick up his sister getting hugs and kisses of all the Paige's class mates. Finally the small class was walked out of the garden one of the teachers holding the gate lettjng them leave to their parents. Paige waited in line pointing to you then was let out you ducked down hugging her kissing between her her curly little pigtails.

"Hey baby! Have a good day?" She nodded passing you her small bag and a small potted plant? You looked at her confused but said nothing. She turned and giggled hugging kal smoshing her face in his chest making him stand up she pulled back and squealed as he latherd her with kisses three hours away from her was apparently to long!

"Oh no Kal! Stop it silly bear!" You laughed watching her push weakly at kal who began to settle down now that his 'pup' was with him. You noticed the other parents hovering there kids all pulljng itching to come get Kal cuddles. You smiled to them nodding suddenly they came over all giving him pets and love which he lapped up. You also used it as a sort of lesson the do's and donts of petting dogs, which did some of the other parents a favour. Kal wagged his tail and droped to the floor he couldnt roll over fast enough directing the tiny hands to scratch his belly mouth open tongue lolling about as he panted one happy little bear. After you were sure all the kids got there cuddles you moved calling kal he huffed at you ignoring you instead wanting more love. You smirked down at him sighing as the children giggled. Finally after much coaxing from the other parents you and Paige managed to heave kal away with promises of chicken and snuggles at home. Soon you was on your way home kal padding beside you happy as can be.

Paige took he spot beside you holding his lead with you she was talking about her 'boyfriend' a little boy who she had taken a shine to. It was really sweet he had just moved to the area a little asian boy who paige had bonded with quickly. Really they were just best freinds but he was the first boy she had made freinds with hence she had opted to call him her boyfriend.

"So then Micah played let me play and-and he let me be a knight!" You smiled at her as she beamed excited.

"Really? A knight?" She stopped at the road with you looking both ways then crossed quickly.

"Yeah! Like in daddy's games!! And he gave me some of the bany tomatoes in his lunch...did you he grew them in his own garden!!" You gasped sown at her.

"Really? Oh my, sound like a little dream boat!" she scrunched up her nose lookjng up at you placing a tiny hand to he forehed sheildjngnher eyea from the afternoon sun

"Wha?" You chuckled shaking your head at her.

"Never mind jummy is just being silly" nodded to you her lightl blue eyes sparkling at you then Continued talking about her day mostly about Micah and the games they played.

When you reached home you watched as kal began barking and whining which could only mean one thing. Henry was home already, you unlocked the gate and released the dog with a quiet 'go get daddy' he tore off whining running to the door scratching and pouncing barking the whole time.

"Mummy whats wrong with kal?" You looked down at her knowingly"I'm not sure why don't you go see to him?" She nodded her head biting her lip then licking it, she looked so much like her father doing that. Then she was off running to the house just as Henry opened the door. She froze then screamed for him quickly falling to pieces with grabby hands wantjng her daddy. You watched all choked up as always she was bawling her eyes out by the time he had jumped the steps to the house scooping her up in his huge arms. He clutched her to his chest shushing and rocking her as she cried into him fisting her small hands in his shirt just calling him over and over. He moved his head kissing her trying to calm her, he hated and loved this. He hated her getting so upset when her returned but secretly loved that she missed him. The first few times he left he was worried she wouldnt remember him but juste as youd promised him she had.

The first time he came home you’d taken her to the airport to meet him...He had ended hup having to sit in the back with her as she refused to let him go getting hysterical  each time he tried to pry her off of him. She had gotten better as she got older understanding that daddy had to work and now she was older she could speak to him on the phone and video chat. Each time after the initial crying and snuggles she would stay stuck to his side weather she was sitting on the sofa between his legs when he was playing games or in the makeshift gym with him useing his reps to practice her counting...even if in five mineuts he managed two hundred by her count they were always together. Hell sometimes he even read a new script as a bed time story, which not even you were privvy to!

You laughed walking up to him winding your arms around them both cuddling your daughter between you he leaned in kissing ou on the lips.

"God its good to be home" you smiled smoothing  one of paiges high pigtails she whined calming down kicking her little legs wrapping an arm around his neck and moved suckling her thumb a little. He moved you all into the house patting her bottom lightly somthing he had done since she was born it always soothed her. You moved to the kitchen opening the back door letting air in it was to hot, you placed the small plant on the windosill by the sinck giving it a tiny bit of water as you noticed the siol had dried out. Henry stayed close behind you wanting to be around you, you moved to the slow cooker flicking it on to warm up the already cooked casserole. He came up behinde you movijng to have Paige on one hip still rocking her slightly even tho she had calmed down.

"Ohh look baby chicken casserole...Did you help mummy with that today before school? " She giggled peering over the pot.

"Yes daddy! I putted in the veggies! And tatoes! Daddy!" He smiled at her gasping.

"You did the veggies and the potatoes?! Such a clever girl making daddies favourite dinner" she giggled at the praise nodding.

"And-and I tasted it to!" he gasped at her as she got all excited

"And what do you think?" She grinned and 'whispered'

"Needed salt" you spun round and gasped at her offended.

"You little!" You chased her and Henry around the kitchen island wriggling your fingers as if to tickle her.

"AHH HAHAHa NOOO! DADDY RUN RUN!" you giggled as he scarperd out of the kitchen hovering by the door and moved all you saw was the tops of their heads peering into the kitchen. You rolled your eyes as they made a 'plan of attack' you turned back to the pit placeing the lid back on.

Suddeny Henry had you, arms pinning yours to the sides as Paige 'tickled' you making you laugh.

"Oh my god! Stop I give I give!" Finally Paige relented koala climbing Henry who quickly scooped her up to his hip.You moved in kissing her cheek then henry as he wrapped his free arm around you nuzzling in to your neck giving a quick nip before licking at your skin.You giggled trying to escape yet all he did was grab you around your waist and hoist you up.

"HAHA! I have you both now!" You laughed and Paige squealed as he spun around holding you both before making his way to the living room  you wriggled free pretendingnto run from him making paige call out to you for help as he threw her up in the air holding her with 'slam dunking' paige to the sofa making her laugh and  scream as he followed lifting her littl tshirt blowing rasberries on her tummy makeing her squeal and laugh louder. You smiled at the two, this is what you missed when he was away, the laughter of a full house. You sat down in Henry's armchair as he and Paige 'wrestled' soon attracting kals attention who like the loyal steed he was came to paiges aid pouncing henry making him groan and roll off her givingnher and kal the chance to escape to the garden, you both let them the garden was safe and having  kal around was like a live in nanny he wont let anything happen to her.

Henry rolled over on the sofa lounging back panting crooking a finger at you. You crept over moving to sit in his lap, he tugged you down to him pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. He moved sitting up more cupping your ass smirking.

"Soo? Did you think about what I mentioned?" You grinned and pretended to think for a second making him groan leaning in leaving kisses on your neck and jaw.

"I did" you finally replied, you felt him hold his breath as his nose ghosted your ear.

"I stopped them that night~ all back to normal now" he pulled back staring at you

"Really? You mean it?" You nodded them brought you forward for a deep kiss. He had mentioned trying for another child when he came back, youd always intended to give Paige a sibling but not when she aas still a baby baby. Now that Paige was older and going to be in school next year you had felt ready to try again and had be over the moon whne henry had suggested it in a video chat instantly stopping your contraception so eveything would be back to normal and you could start trying asap asfterall you knly had him home for a few months then he was off to play superman again. He smiled lunging forward pinning you below him devouring your mouth you moaned as things got heated.

You felt them. Eyes. Blue eyes to be exact. You both sighed and turned to Paige who was staring unblinking at the two of you from the door. You moved pushing him up.

"Mummy? Wheres my plant I wana show daddy what I grew!" He looked at you and sighed a little, you could tell he was a bit dissapointed but you waved him off as he stood pulling you up with him you moved in whispering.

"Tonight love" he grinned and jumped up a bounce in his step holding his hand out to paige who took it.

"Its on the windowsill in the kitchen" Henry nodded left the room letting you relax for a while already knowing you were picking up your kindle to read. Once in the kitchen he lifted Paige placing her on the counter and pulled over the small plant.

"So whats this then?" She smiled touchingnthe leaves softly

"Its a strawberry plant daddy...I did it from a tiny seed!" He smiled at her looking to the plant it wasnt half bad small but alive which is more then he could say for his when he tried.

"Oh you did this? At school?" She nodded at him and moved the leaves about.

"Yes and it will get bigger and grow pretty flowers...And the flowers will grow a strawberry! Miss bou said we cant pick em till they are a bright red like in the shops... and we can take pictures in to show em off!" He nodded to her

"So your gardening at school now? Is it fun?" She giggled putting the plant down

"Yeah we got lots in our vegetable patch...we got some lettuce and peppers and spinach and and tomatoes! But they not ready yet...Micahs is! Micah grows the at home... can we grow some veggies daddy?" He smiled at her

"We certainly can...Besides we will need to plant your strawberries in the garden...I will make your ownn little growing patch amd we can grow anything you want how does that sound?" She squealed and bounced on her bottom making him smile.

"Lets make a list and we can go get them tomorrow" she nodded in agreement. You walked in the kitchen as henry and Paige leaned over the counter making a list

"Whats going on here then?" Paige quickly riped the paper from under Henry's nose.

"List mummy! Of palnts for my veggie patch! Daddy wants to help!" You smiled peaking over the paper seeing two halves one side had strange 'paige writing' the other a list Henry had written. Compost, tools, string, pots then lots of different fruit and veg. You chuckled shaking your head.

"You missed watering can...maybe we could get a waterbutt? And one of thows plastice green houses to start the seedling off?" He smiled nodding addjng them to the list as you went and checked dinner. You nodded then turned to the other two."Right you tow dinners done wash up then go wait at the table...Had it in the slow cooker all day just needed to be heated up" he leaned over kissing you once again thanking you then helped Paige was her hands leaving to the dining room with Paige.

You did this everytime he came home early dinner meant an early bedtime for Paige and then You could give Henry a proper homecoming. You dished up the dinner home made chicken casserole you moved quickly with the three bowles placing them on the table then sat down ready to eat as Henry began talking about work. you smiled letting him gush about his work, you loved seeing him like this he blushed slightly.

"Any way enough about that, how have my two girls been?" You watched at Paige grinned across the table to him.

"I made a new friend daddy!" You swallowed your mouthfull choosing to keep quiet you knew where this was going you grinned into you bowl. He smiled at her leaning over to wipe her mouth quickly making her giggle at him as he stuck his tongue out at her.

"Oh really? And whats her name?"

"Haha nooo! Daddy its not a girl...I've got a boyfriend!" Henry choked onhis mouthfull paiges face dropped and she looked to you worriedly you smiled reassuringly at her. Henry hit his chest coughing finally getting himslef under control, he looked at you shocked and terrified you nodded at him chuckling.

"A-a boyfriend? Poppet dont you think your a bit err young for that?" She frowned at him shaking her head.

"No daddy! He is really nice! He lets me be a knight! And today we had lunch together and he fed-ed me his tomatoes."

"Gave paige he gave you his tomatoes" you corrected as Henry gaped at her unsure what to make of it.

"So he is just a friend?....he better be"  he grumbled the last part under his breath.

"He is a friend...My boyfriend I love him daddy... he gives me hugs! And Kal likes him to! He's my hero" You giggled as Henry was panicked and at a loss.

"Really....love I thought daddy was your hero?" Creased up he actually looked a bit hurt from her words she gave him a sympathetic look.

"Yes daddy you are...But Micah is to! He is soo pretty and fun and he don't make me be the princess all the time...And he shares his colours"

"Okay so you love this boy Micah?" She nodded pushing her food around in her bowl.

"What do you love about him?"

"His hair! Its black and shiney! And and he is cute!"

"Aha but you do know he isnt your boy friend right? Your not aloud boyfriends yet....No boyfriends untill your older." He said she looked at him wide eyed then you her bottom lip quivering.

"What? But but I love him!" Henry crossed his arms at her she mimicked him scowling

"No absolutly not baby" .she whined and smaked the table in a huff

"NOOO! MY BOYFRIEND!" He raised a brow at her as she had a paddy.

"No boyfreinds untill your 21 and thats final ittle lady"

"No! Micah is mine! My boyfriend! A-and you cant stop us from playing! So there!" Henry rose a brow trying to ignor your quiet chuckles as Paige made huffed and stuck her nose in the air being a right little madame. You watched givjng Henry the stink eye as a grin crawled across his face. Here we go.

"Its illegal...he could get in trouble, daddy could get in trouble" Henry tilted his head at her as she gasped trying to read him, you could see her mind trying to work him out. Is he lying? Or not? but her father was an actor...And a damn good one he had a poker face like no other. You knew where this was going, you knew you should stop it but his was gold! You had a feeling that henry was not gojng to ckme out on top.as she opend her mouth.

"W-well we wont tell..Keep it a secret!" She said holding a finger to her lips Henry tutted shaking his head.

"Oh poppet...Do you know where daddy has been these past months?" You squinted at him trying to see exactly where this was going knowing you were going to have to pick up the pieces. She nodded then shook her head no. He smiled devilishly at her. Oh shit here he goes.

"Daddy has been to spy school" you gasped at him oh hell no he wouldnt...yes he fucking would you could see the twinkle in his deep blues.

"Spy school?" She spoke in a small voice then turned to you looking fro one to the other he nodded at he

"Y-your a spy?" He nodded and she gave him a sa look.

"Yes, and I made friends with lots of spies" she twitched slightly shaking her head.

"And they told me that the spy rules says that a spy's little girl isn't allowed a boyfriend until they are twenty one....If they did find out daddy could get in trouble...You dont want daddy to be in trouble do you?" She shook her head bottom lip trembling as she was torn. She looked like she would explode as she tried weighting up her 'options'.

 Suddenly Henry dropped his smug look and looked more like a deer in the headlights as Paige began wailing moving her arms making grabby hands to you. You sighed and hoisted her into your arms rocking her trying so hard not to laugh.

"W-why is da-daddy mean?....I ju-just want to pl-play with my boyfreind!" You patted her back rocking her.

"No-now D-daddy will get i-in trouble! But I-I just w-wana plaayy!" She cried harder hicupping between her words.

"Oh sweety come here shh shh" you gave Henry a look as he leaned back in his chair crossing his arms at you shaking his head. Stubborn and protective of his little lady.

"Nope..Not having it" you hissed at him knowing you had to spell this one out for the big idiot.

"Daddy didn't mean it,he wont get in trouble at all baby girl"

"Yes I did"

"HENRY!" he shut up at your hiss

"Bu-but d-daddy said-"

"Hey look at me...Dont listen to daddy he is an idiot and just jealous of Micah" she sniffled an nodded

"Y-yeah cos he-he's got pretty Shiney hair... D-daddies just got stupid curls!" You giggled as Henry looked aghast at her not believing wht ha was hearing

"Exactly daddy is just being a grump! you can still play with Micah...He is your best friend isn't he?" She nodded sniffling

"and you love his like a friend right?" Henry now realised his mistake blinked at you as you rolled your eyes shaking your head at him like 'what the fuck? Really? Shes three' .oh. She pulled away wipinng her eyes looking to henry's matching blues.

"Really daddy? C-can I still play w-with micah?"

"Yes of course...I'm sorry baby...you and mummy was right I just got jealous...daddy is used to being your only hero." Smooth cavill real smooth. She bought it tho nodding he tilted his head down.

"Yo-you wont be in tr-trouble" he shook his head at her

"A-and Micah wo-wont be in t-trouble?" Again he shook his head and reached for her.

"No baby daddy was just being silly...Come here Can you forgive me poppet?" She thlught about it then nodded lunging for him cuddling him he mouthed a sorry to you but you just rolled your eyes at him. Idiot.

It was later that night when Henry returned to your bedroom after reading Paige to sleep,. You both flitted about one another getting ready for bed ou was brushing your teeth when he brought it up.

"So who is this micah then?" You rolled your eyes still hearing a little hostility there...To a fucking three year old. You spat out the toothpaste and looked to henry leaning on the door.

"A little boy...He moved to the village just after you left...Paige was instantly taken with him, he is asian so was avoided by the other kids...you know what she's like with hair and shes never seen straight pitch black hair before... she gushed about him for a few days then they became best freinds....And she call's him her boyfriend because he is the first male friend shes made! God henry really shes three! There none of that shit yet...not for a good few years!" You turned away from your sheepish husband.

"So? nothing i need to know? theres nothing going on? whats his parents like?" You blinked at him..

"Seriously? Like are you being serious now?  Ok well fuck it his dad has taken over the doctors surgery and is actually your and my doctor now that dr marsh has retired! His mother is a stay at home wife, they have a cat called fuji; cos he is fat and a gold fish called mino because its a mino...he is a sweet polite boy ...his favourite colour is green he grows fruit and veg in his garden and you know what Henry he fucking loves batman! and whne he batman versus superman comes out he is gonna want batman to kick your ass! there you happy Jesus fucking christ almighty!" Henry smirked moving towards you slowly stalking towards you really.

"Fuck off" he just chuckled quickly wrappjng himself around you.

"God your so sexy when our mad come here~" you blinked at him

"Oh hell no You did not get me riled up to have rough sex.....Henry I!....you little shit!" He laughed knowing you’d caught onto him making you more irritated and dragged you to the bed kissing at your neck along the way.

"Come on love time for number two...A boy to keep and eye on Paige for me when I'm away!" You chuckled relenting as he laid you down on your bed.

#henry cavill x reader #henry cavill fic #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill #henry cavill x daughter #henry cavill x child

[impaladolan]

Control Freak - Grayson Dolan

summary: after Choff production lines CEO (finally) retires, a new boss makes his way into Y/N’s world..

warnings: sexual references/undertones

a/n: another Grayson series, i can’t help myself :)) enjoy!! also, ily <3

Ugh, he was in one of his moods again.

The office cubicles were hastily bustling with nervousness and terror. At any given moment, the infuriated man, so-called boss, will be bursting through the double doors with a dark red tint across his cheeks and maybe even smoke out of his ears, if you're lucky.

Mr. Kidman has never been good with the whole "patience is a virtue" thing, he's a ticking time bomb at all hours of the day. Nothing ever satisfies him, nor remotely excites him, he just finds something to yell and scream about at some poor unfortunate soul and then continues his merry day. But today, he was furious. He had no empathy for anyone, even his favorite two little secretaries that wear push-up bras like a side-job. Apparently someone had brought him the wrong breakfast order and everything just went downhill from there.

Unlike all the others, you seemed calm and composed amongst all this mayhem, but only because you, and maybe two others, knew that 'Old Angry Kidman' was finally retiring. Yep, freedom at last. Well, unless the new guy, or girl, has terrible anger issues.

So you just sat at your clean and pristine desk, typing another draft and adding it to the plentiful piles saved on your work computer, while soundlessly chewing on a mint piece of gum that substituted for the absence of a tooth brushing the morning of. But your quick finger movements were hushed once Mr. Kidman, as predicted, flew straight through the doors with his signature fiery red face and sweat droplets dotting his thinning hairline. "Every body fucking up! I've fucking had it with all of you." He demands, majority of the room raising from their seats with caution. With his teeth tightly gritted and his lips in a fine line, he swirls his index finger in the air, motioning to all of his terrified workers.

"If it were my fuckin' decision, I'd have each and everyone of you pieces of shits fired and on the streets in point ZERO-TWO seconds. You all are fucking lucky that this is my last day here, son's of bitches." A man of few nice words, that he is. The nicest thing you've ever heard him say was thank you, and that was two years ago. His vulgar and aggressive attitude truly brings the worth of working this job down. If it weren't for the good pay and lack of any other remotely feasible company jobs, you would've quit a long time ago.

But alas, you still endure the inevitable fiery reign of his obstructive wrath on the daily.

-

Dolan is his name.

The new boss, that is. That's the only information you and the rest of the staff knew, besides that he's a male. He hasn't shown up for work yet, or even formally introduced himself. Hell, you don't even know what he looks like. But you were certainly nervous for his arrival.

What if he's just like Kidman, or worse?

It most certainly made you nervous to think that this new guy could ever be worse than Kidman. You were hoping and praying that the he'd at least value his workers and employees.

Everyone, on your office floor, was anticipating the days and hours of his big arrival. No one was certain of when he was going to show up, or if. But nonetheless you were one of the most nervous ones. You held the highest title among your coworkers, except CEO of course, but you were pretty up there when it came to business standards. Everyone seemed to like you as well, your kind nature and natural non-brutal attitude sure did make up for other people's. Of course, you didn't really have an office of your own, because you enjoyed the time spent with the people around you. You truly loved the relationship and humbleness you gained from it. At least you weren't a snotty bitch, right?

There were plenty of little rumors around the workspace that you'd become the new (and improved) owner of this whole entire manufacturing company. Specifically a well known fashion line, Choff. The floor that you, and many of the other leading workers, were on was basically the information database. But from time to time, you'd find yourself strolling through the other, more clothing/model filled areas. Just to see how things were flowing.

Which is actually what you're doing in this moment; running your fingers along the racks filled with hangers that held all the fitted clothing items. It seemed like fun to be down here, measuring and sewing the different outfits to the men and women, but it also seemed stressful. Everyone's always in a rush, with their exploding New York accents and their flailing around all over the place. It's pretty amusing to watch from afar, but you'd be scared to get in anyone's way. They'd probably just run you over and continue their day unaffected.

With that thought in mind, you abruptly come to a stop when you run into the muscular backside of someone, startling you from your stare on the tiled flooring. You uttered a few apologies, taking a step back and straightening your pencil skirt from its newfound wrinkles.

"Lost, darling?" Your eyes trail the floor before you until they're stuck on a pair of shiny dress shoes, attached to a pair of long legs and a broad chest. Your eyes finally landed on the remarkably handsome face, of someone you didn't quite recognize. It wasn't uncommon to stumble across unknown employees, but could it be him?

"Frankly, no." You shortly answer, studying his jaw-dropping features. He was indubitably perfect, without a doubt. With a nicely trimmed beard decorating his beautifully shaped jawline, and big hazel eyes that stared right back at your own, he seemed unearthly. Like he was God's favorite angel sent down from heaven, just to show you a glimpse of what it'd really be like inside the pearly gates. "Are, um, you?" You weren't exactly nervous, just mystified. His recent smile grew into what seemed to be a smirk, while his right side's dimple grew more prominent.

"I'd like to say that I'm not, but I sadly am." He shrugs with a chuckle, sending a wave of unbeknownst pleasure through your ears and fluttering down your spine, until the ends of your toes were satisfied with his deep and raspy voice. "Could you maybe show me around this gigantic place? I've been in need of assistance for the last hour or so." He questions you, dropping his shoulders back and letting his eyes roam your stature before drifting to the interior of the long hallway the two of you are currently standing around in. "I very well could, but I have a dreadful meeting to attend to within the next five to ten minutes." Actually, the meeting was in fifteen minutes. You just simply wanted to see the man's reaction, which wasn't what you though it'd be;

"Perfect, I'll be in attendance for that as well. If you'd so kindly lead the way, I would most appreciate it." He smoothly negotiated, stuffing his right hand, which was tightly wrapped with an expensive looking watch, into his pocket with another grin. He seemed very eloquent with his words and the way he addressed things, it has to be him?

"Do you mind me asking of your name?" You began as you started your trek back to where you came from, your heels quietly clicking from beneath you as you lead the way, him following close behind. "Dolan, Grayson Dolan." He quickly answered. Indeed you were right in thinking he was the new (and maybe improved) CEO of all Choff productions. "New head guy?"

He only nods, to yet another one of your endless questions. "And what's your name, darling?" He asks as the two of you stop at an elevator, his quick hand beating yours to clicking the slightly worn down button. "Y/N Y/L/N, direct head management under you." You relay before boarding onto the empty elevator, the doors closing moments after the two of you were stood side by side. You fidget with the ends of your skirt, staying as calm as possible under his stare that you couldn't help but shrivel under.

"Under me, huh?" You almost gulped at the sound of his double meaninged phrase. Smart guy, hm? Your heart started beating a bit faster the more you thought of his little statement. Your mind became a whirlwind of visuals and fantasies before you could even stop it. Just those two little words had made you all sorts of a mess, and he hasn't even done much of anything. "Don't get too worked up darling, we have a meeting to attend." He chuckles as he steps off the elevator that had opened only seconds ago. You just scoff, your cheeks reddening as you stride right past him, maneuvering through the expanse of people that had just left the staff room, in order for the upcoming meeting to advance.

The moment you were sat in the room and time had passed to where everyone had finally shown up, you felt that lingering feeling of eyes on you. A pair of hazel eyes to be exact, who was sat far from you at the end of the long table. For meeting him not too long ago, he sure did seem comfortable around everyone. It was entirely too soon for you to be liking him already, better yet imagining different scenarios with him as someone boringly rambled. You decided that you'd forget him for the time being and focus on your job, as much as possible.

Though it would be granted as difficult as time moved on..

"That's the conclusion of this meeting. I thank everyone for being here, and I especially appreciate your appearance, Mr. Dolan. I'm happy to say that things around here will continue a lot smoother than it did in the past. And I know most others would agree." Burt Wallace, one of the coordinators, concluded after standing from his seat to dismiss everyone with a nod. While everyone dillydallied in conversations with one another, you in the other hand, hustled straight out of that room and towards the same elevator you had used earlier. The moment you clicked the button, the doors opened wide and you hopped in, tucking yourself in the corner while you gained your breath. You smile to yourself at the successful 'escape' from any questions or perhaps a witty comment from a certain CEO on the loose.

You sigh happily to yourself, watching the doors close again until a hand is stuck between them, pushing them straight back to reveal the man you were somewhat avoiding. "Care if I join you again?" He asked, but he still entered otherwise, clicking one of the many buttons to make the door close. "Did I have a choice?" You almost scoff, feeling his shoulder brush against your own as he stood in the same spot he had previously stood in. "Nah, not really, but I like to seem like a little bit of a gentleman." He answers, the roll of your eyes substituting for the internal scoff that you hadn't let out. The two of you rode in silence for what seemed to be eternity, only the faint sounds of your breaths being heard. As soon as the elevator door clanged and opened, you made a beeline out of there and hustled toward your organized workspace like there was a snake chasing you.

"What's the rush?" Ana Rita, one of the only tolerable women in this entire building, asked as you ducked under your desk. Even though you hadn't looked back to check, you had a feeling he'd follow you, or worse, ask you to meet him in his office. You weren't exactly sure why you were hiding from him, he seemed pretty nice. But he truly intimidated you. Not in a competitive way, more so a physical way. "And why the fuck are you down there?" The redhead crinkled her brows as she looked down her long nose at you. "Just, shhhh!" You bellow quietly, covering your pursed lips with your index finger.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck. Hot man, six o'clock! Get your ass out of there!" She violently whispered at you, frantically tidying herself for the "hot man," presumably Mr. Dolan as you had predicted, approached your desks. You tightly hug your knees from under your desk, praying to god that he wouldn't somehow see you. "After noon, sir, may I help you?" You cringe at the seductive tone lined in her voice, something that Mr. Dolan unfortunately probably gets a lot of. "I'm looking for Ms. Y/L/N, I have some issues to discuss with her." Yet again, his girthy voice made you sigh with comfort. It's extremely calming to listen to.

"She's actually right here—" Ana, the little asshole she is in this moment, points straight at you as you plead with your eyes and shake your head vigorously. You suddenly see his handsome head peer over at you, his brows scrunched with confusion. "Uhm, cords were messed up, gotta fix them." You awkwardly chuckle, patting the outlet box stuffed with all your monitor's cords. You bring yourself out from below your desk as the two stared at you, dusting your front side and settling down in your office chair with a nervous smile.

"I'd like to have a word with you, in my office."

(masterlist)

#dolan twins #dolan twins smut #dt #dtfan10m #ily #ethan dolan #ethan grant dolan #grayson dolan #grayson smut #grayson dolan smut #grayson fluff #grayson dolan fanfic #Grayson #grayson x reader #graysonbailey #dick grayson #grayson blurb

[chrysalizzm]

Do you have fic recs or head canons? please ramble for paragraphs im bored and looking for something to read.

oh boy do i have some fic recs for you (and everyone who sees this), my friend! this one is quite long because there are a lot of fics i like and this isn’t all of them, so if you’d like more, you can check out my bookmarks page ^^

The Run and Go by Numanum 

“That’s not fair,” Bad protests. Dream raises an eyebrow at him and jerks his tied hands in emphasis, clearly saying that none of this is fair.

“Look, you keep running! Who runs if they’re not guilty?” Bad challenges, staring him down with obvious distrust from the generous distance of exactly five feet. It’s fair, as much as Dream hates to admit it; it’s not like he’s been the most honest hostage in the past, with all of his escaping and running and framing himself for his own murder, apparently.

“Only the good die young, and only the guilty run,” Technoblade chimes in, holding his own potato and sitting in the snow like it’s not cold at all.

A hot flash of irritation burns through him.

“Someone being chased?” he counters sarcastically, jerking his tied wrists up again to wave them in front of the group. Sapnap laughs so hard that he almost chokes on his potato, but it dies off when Dream gives him an icy stare.

Or: Dream is having a hard time, and the hunter just want to adopt him like a stray puppy that bites you at every opportunity.

multi-chapter, ongoing.

a manhunt with plot-style fic! exquisitely written, visceral in the emotions it evokes. it’s the kind of fic that makes me feel all shaky with anticipation, the kind that i have a physical reaction to; you can’t put it down.

pain. all-consuming pain. this one feels bad, man

and as he fell (you walked away) by Teahound

Once upon a time, there were three hunters.

They were good at what they did. If you wanted something-- or better yet, someone-- found, discovered, or destroyed, they were the people you asked. They didn’t have much to their name, besides a formidable reputation, but they were a team, and that was enough for them.

Once upon a time, there was a king in the forest.

He wore a mask, but it didn’t matter. That deep in the forest, in a hidden fortress, buried behind leaves and monsters and broken stone, no one could see his face anyway. He had been there a very long time, and he was alone.

Being a king can be a very lonely thing. So one day, the king left the fortress.

A Minecraft manhunt AU, with a fantasy twist. Dream is a cryptid, and Hunters are idiots.

multi-chapter (11), complete.

tea’s fic!! a manhunt-with-plot fic, featuring a forest spirit dream and circumstantial hunters and friendships that feel both intensely real and desperately melancholy because they can’t last.

or can they?

The Real World by Cinammonzoa and Fire_Fly464

"Ten, paces fire!"

Time stopped.

Tommy’s entire body went numb. He tried to open his mouth to say something, but his body was determined to keep him silent. His vision went dark, and he could no longer feel his headphones over his ears. The mouse in his hand. The slight breeze of his ceiling fan. For a few seconds, he couldn’t feel anything.

His senses came back to him all at once. The first thing Tommy noticed was the weight in his right hand -- a bow. His nostrils stung with the lingering scent of gunpowder. In front of him was a masked figure. Their right arm was bent, their elbow by their face. In their left hand was a bow, aiming directly at--

~~~

Aka Dream and Tommy get transported into the SMP world and have no idea what the fuck is happening

multi-chapter (23), complete

you’ve probably seen this one if you haunt the video blogging rpf/minecraft tags of ao3 often! an irl!dream and tommy replace their smp counterparts type of beat, very upbeat in dynamic and fun to keep pace with, great read.

staying alive (though the city is dead) by Alice_Not_In_Wonderland

"Damned if you do, damned if you don't," Schlatt smirks, his words lilting, almost song-like. His eyes seem to glow brighter. "Tell me, Dream, when did you realize that you could talk and talk and talk and no one would ever believe you?"

---

or: if dream's damned to be a villain in every story he's in, then he's going to show them exactly how much of one he can be

one-shot, complete.

the gratuitous greek mythology references are truly everything and this fic is such a good dissection of dream and schlatt’s motivations and how their goals intersect, and dream’s likening to cassandra really hits different 

Green & Gold by HognoseSnake

George’s legs ached.

His lungs felt tight and too small.

His breath was loud in his ears.

His pack bounced uncomfortably on his shoulders.

George, homeless and adrift, is an outlaw of the Mad King's reign. He'd spent the last two months being hunted across the wilderness at the fringe of society by a ruthless killer in a smiling mask and bright green coat. This, he understood.

What he didn't understand is why such a ruthless killer kept letting him go.

multi-chapter (8), complete. sequel ongoing.

a breathtaking pseudo-manhunt-with-plot fic, with george and dream running from a kingdom that wants them dead for perceived transgressions. this shit hurted, and the sequel hurts even worse ;-; snake please i beg

We’re Only Young series by ImperialKatwala

It's easy to forget amid the chaos and bloodshed how similar - and how young - Dream and Technoblade really are.

collection of both one-shots and ongoing multi-chapter fics.

((bangs on table)) please read this series it is dream and techno friendship fics that alternate between lighthearted and heartwrenchingly comforting and imperialkatwala’s characterisation of them and their respective groups of family and friends is so frickin’ good i read this series when i’m not having a good day and it never fails to make me crack a smile

kept promises and old ruins and names carved into stone by verecundiam

"Would you... would you want to stay here?" Bad wrings his hands, looking away. "Like, like actually stay? I know it's not, ah, not exactly comfortable, or all that homey, but I don't want you two to get hurt out there on your own, and I just... I think maybe you could stay? If you want?"

"That sounds nice," Sapnap says, because it does.

(Or: How four kids managed to build a family, against all odds.)

one-shot, complete.

muffinteers found family that makes me want to go to the smp writers and beg it to be made canon. unbelievably soft yet excellent at parsing out the younger counterparts of the four and creating backgrounds that feasibly form them into the people they grow up to be.

in the age of icons by BananasofThorns

“Yeah, keep digging,” Tommy crows.

The pickaxe hesitates on the downswing. The air shifts; Dream’s aura bursts into visibility, brilliant green and jagged. Ozone hums on Techno’s tongue and Bad stutters in the middle of his sentence. Up on the wall, silhouetted by the sun, Dream stands frozen and furious.

L'manberg messes with something it shouldn't. Techno watches the repercussions and tries not to laugh.

one-shot, complete.

i love deity aus (figures, i wrote one myself akjdfh), and this one hits. there’s something exquisitely delicate about how dream and the repercussions his godhood both on himself and on the people who are exposed to him in that moment of unbridled rage.

that's how we keep going (we make the best of things) by lieyuu

[ i can’t decide if this is heaven or hell. the walls keep closing in and we’re running out of space, but you’re pretty cute ]

“So, do you want to build a flower shop, a cottage, or a coffee shop?” Puffy asks, smiling like just Niki’s presence is enough to light up her world.

Niki looks at her, thinks, I want to bend nature to my will and weave tapestries in your name, says, “I think I might like the flower shop best.”

one-shot, complete.

a niki/puffy fic that crushed me in its hands in just six hundred words.  the delicate love and wonder and beauty of this fic killed me softly and i welcomed it. it’s girls in love rendered by lieyuu’s masterful hand, what more could you want

i need it to be known that as i was typing up my thoughts midnight love by girl in red started playing from my playlist if that’s not a shining endorsement i don’t know what is

did i ruin the moment? by itisjosh

Ranboo drags himself through the snow, burn wounds going up and down his body. His suit is crumpled, half of it discarded as he crawls along the ground. His eyes are firmly pressed shut, and he refuses to open them, just in case he sees him, Dream, again. Ranboo sobs as the snow melts on his skin, the water scalding him as it trickles down his arms and chest.

one-shot, complete.

it’s character death, i do need to put it out there because it felt like i was punched in the stomach at the end even though i knew. josh knows exactly how to drag his readers kicking and screaming into angst hell, as always - a ranboo is rescued by phil fic wherein ranboo ends up convincing himself that the only reason for his presence in the nearly-empty anarchist commune is because phil sees him as a placeholder for his sons ;-; pain

Frame The Halves, And Call Them Brothers by MusicallyActive

"Let's go!" Quackity roared. "Let's fucking go!"

The anvil dropped, and Techno reached for his totem of undying. This was going to hurt like a bitch.

Phil screamed something, and instantly a crushing force struck Technoblade's skull. It rattled him to the core, doused his vision in red, and then all he knew was black.

He gasped awake moments later to the sound of his communicator pinging softly at his bedside table, and when Technoblade opened his eyes, New L'manburg was nowhere in sight.

one-shot, complete.

a techno timeloop fic that shows off the unintentional cruelty of the children who run l’manberg and techno’s own inability to allow the people he tries so hard not to love to come to harm. techno’s rendered in painstaking detail; this one was cathartic in the best way.

on i go (move to move) by Aenqa

If you ask someone whether they’ve ever experienced real, severe physical pain, you’ll learn a lot from their response.

Techno knows what it means to be in pain. He’s accepted it as a necessary consequence of keeping his family safe. But when the pain he's experiencing starts to become too much to bear alone, it takes his family to show him what it might mean to feel better.

one-shot, complete.

chronic pain fic featuring sbi!! it’s really good - aenqa wrote chronic pain well, and incorporated respawn mechanics into it well, and the dynamic between sbi is impeccable.

Yellow and Blue and- by nic_takes_Ls (nic_L)

It’s another gorgeous day in New L’Manberg. Tubbo’s stilted streets of deep toned spruce and honey-touched oaks are warm under his feet from the sun, and a sign and a small banner proclaim the country’s name in front of his face. Wilbur is so happy to let the ‘L’ roll of his tongue as he says it, ‘Manberg’ was harsh and too guttural, but the two extra syllables make it something that could fit on a melody, a four-note beat he could set the pace of his unbeating heart to.

The citizens of New L’Manberg track him with cautious eyes at first, until Tubbo changes his eyes to slightly sad ones, listening along to Wilbur’s rambles, warming up to the truly soot-grey sight of his face and sunshine yellow of his ever-present sweater. The rest of the population soon follow, laughing at Wilbur’s strange innocence and telling him what he’s done with only a little bit of spite in a pitying mask and fixing their mouths in a line when he suddenly forgets what he’s doing or stares into space or laughs at nothing.

But all the people who get sad when Wilbur starts laughing after shock-still silence are dumb.

Because Wilbur’s not laughing at nothing.

one-shot, complete.

a ghostbur fic from quite early on! it includes references to wilbur and schlatt’s older videos/smp experiences and has a super interesting take on the nature of wilbur’s amnesia i enjoyed this fic a lot ^^

east of eden series by subwaywalls

Philza protects his home.

(An angel with a singing blade of fire guards the gates to paradise.)

two one-shots, one ongoing multi-chapter fic.

READ IT READ IT READ IT. the eoe series is exquisite in both content and presentation, centering around sbi and the powers they all respectively have but also bringing in people like grian and dream, and subwaywalls is a master of packaging her words ever so delicately to create an experience that is ethereal.

#long post #fic recs #chrys rambles #asks

[muse-oleum]

Not that kind of ride

Kingsman - Harry Hart x fem!reader

Based on this ask: Hello! Can you write one with the Fem!Reader “innocently” teasing Harry and him being so sexually frustrated and he lets that frustration out ;)

Y’all are thirsty my my. It’s a classic prompt, and I took inspiration from this piece by @ardentmuse​ because it’s the first one I ever read from her and I loved it. Go check it out. 

Summary: The major downside of being a female Kingsman? Honeypots. The biggest upside? Honeypots with Harry Hart.

Word count: 2k (oops)

Warnings: *sing song voice* smut smut smut; swearing; fighting; unwanted advances; definite sex-in-the-car kink ur welcome 

(gif credits to original owner)

Honeypot missions were, as a rule, not your favorite. 

But honeypot missions with Harry Hart, on whom your not-so secret crush had been steadily developing for some months, were even worse. 

For a reason you simply could not fathom, Merlin kept putting the two of you together, as if twice as much handsome would somehow enhance chances of success.

Usually all it did was enhance chances of fuck ups. 

Your target, another one of these big shots, was a known womanizer. Your part of the job was basically done the moment you waltzed into that ballroom, your cleavage on display and about three quarters of your leg exposed through a high-thigh slit. 

In a normal situation you’d have gone for one or the other but this was not a normal situation. 

So, you accepted your fate through gritted teeth, wondering why exactly your talent as an agent was always equated to your sex appeal. 

Eggsy found it fucking hilarious. Especially the constipated look on Harry’s face each time a hand flew up your leg, or an arm wound itself around your waist. 

So, Harry was condemned to watch from the sidelines as the jilted ex/date/boyfriend/husband or whatever else you happened to be going undercover as. And he hated it. 

He watched your position at the bar, your back to him. He wasn’t quite sure how that dress was supposed to stay on if both front and back were equally as exposed, but then he didn’t claim to be an expert. All it did right now was distract him from his task, which was to keep an eye on you and an ear on his mic. 

Your target had spotted you immediately. 

He joined you by the bar, hand already in motion, settling on your shoulder. You didn’t flinch. You were supposed to play the part of the bored girlfriend, and it was a game you knew well. 

Harry could hear you talk through his earpiece. He knew your entire strategy: feign indifference, let them talk themselves up a bit (usually involving money, cars, and the likes), then proceed. 

The man pulled you in, so close to him as to effectively stall any chances of your getting the room key before getting into said room. His hands then went to grab your behind, feeling you up and down shamelessly and all you could do was feign interest. 

What you truly felt was complete disgust. If there was a pair of hands you wanted on you - had ever wanted on you - those were certainly not his. The aforementioned pair of hands, last you checked, were closed around a martini.

Merlin and Eggsy had a bet for which one of you was going to blow first; Eggsy had bet on you, assuming Harry “didn’t ‘ave the game, luv, sorry” but Merlin, with a knowing and mildly pained smile, said “oi, you didn’t know him when he was young.” 

They left it at that, leaving you more confused, and more… curious, than ever before. 

You were pretty sure Merlin was going to lose his bet because Harry didn’t look like he was about to get his “game” on any time soon. 

And it was driving you positively crazy. 

Cut to the fancy hotel room you were now being led to, you analyzed every possible outcome. 

One: you pretended to enter the room, thus avoiding any cameras, and knocked that pathetic excuse of a human being clean out once inside. Two: you managed to sneak the key out by sliding a hand under his suit jacket. Didn't look feasible given the timeframe. And three: you pushed things along until Harry got there as backup in case things got out of hand. 

You chose option one. It seemed the safest, and the most entertaining one. Leave Harry to figure out where exactly you were.

There was obvious flirtation between the two of you, after all, and you knew you weren’t just dreaming it. Out of all the other female agents, whether in field or tech, Harry never called them “darling” or “love.” He never brought them coffee, or asked them if they were alright when they looked tired. 

So what was his deal? You’d made your interest clear enough - at least in your opinion - and all the hints you dropped made approximately the same sound as the few neurons racing each other inside that tycoon’s skull: silence. 

“After you, sugar.” 

His drooping American accent, together with the disagreeable feeling of having to turn your back on him, had your senses on hyper alert. 

A fact you were incredibly thankful for since no sooner had you stepped into the loft than a tall, Hulk-like individual descended upon you, grabbing at every part of your person he could reach. His knife nipped you right above your breasts, missing the strap of your dress by a hair. 

Thankfully for you, your dress, and your dignity, you dodged, gun already in hand as you quickly neutralized him, eyes darting around the room watching for others. 

“Just as I thought. You and your handsome fella just looked too good to be true.”

“Why, thank you,” came a wry voice from the doorway, just as you heard the distinct sound of a taser going. 

With a very undignified gurgling sound, your target went down, properly knocked out. 

“Files are in the cabinet. That’s where he looked first thing when I got his guy.”

Without a word, Harry secured the files, taking pictures through his glasses. You kept your eye on the two buffoons, your ear trained on the hallway. 

“We’ll get into the car, and I’ll look over that.”

Without thinking, Harry let his thumb run right above the wound. your skin tingled at the contact, involuntarily leaning into his touch. 

His eyes met yours, and even in the dimly lit room, you could see how dark they were. 

Before you could open your mouth, he’d already drawn you to him, his hand on the small of your back. His nose touched yours; chest to chest, and hearts beating, you could feel his breath on your cheeks. This embrace was the one you’d been wanting all night, and he was giving it to you now? 

You didn’t have time to do much thinking, because then Harry finally kissed you. His hands encircled your waist, gripping your hips fiercely. You abandoned yourself to his kiss, returning the favor as your hands tugged on his hair, massaging his neck. 

“I’ve been waiting all bloody night to do that.” 

You hummed, brushing your nose to his. You liked the way your breaths mingled and how your hearts seemed to beat at the same accelerated pace. 

“Shit, Merlin, you win.” 

You heard Harry chuckle. Eggsy sounded incredibly pissed. You could see Merlin disgusted face from here. 

“Get your asses out of here. Car’s waiting for you two idiots by the back entrance.”

A few minutes later found you and Harry sitting in a very non subtle limousine. You could only assume that if anyone was looking for you, they probably wouldn’t think to look for a big, classy, black Mercedes. Hence the limousine. 

Harry whistled. 

“Well I never got that kind of ride before, that’s for sure.”

Funny how such an innocent sentence could invoke all sorts of salacious thoughts in your mind. Those salacious thoughts turned devious as you noticed the incredibly opaque screen separating you from the driver’s seat. 

Oh, Harry wasn’t getting out of that ride before you’d… settled the air between you. 

The driver’s voice, muffled, warned you of the traffic, and that it could take longer to arrive at destination. 

You could feel your grin turn into a full wolf smile. 

Harry settled down by your side, and you didn’t leave him much choice. As soon as he was seated, you removed your glasses, tucking them neatly in your handbag. Before he could speak, you removed his, placing them in your handbag as well, before resuming the kiss. 

(fun under the cut)

Harry was stunned. He already knew that things could get out of hands, based off the simple fact that he was so fucking desperate for you. That, and you were in a car. 

Apparently, you’d thought that fact through and decided you didn’t care, because next thing he knew, you were sitting on his lap, a mischievous smile on those godforsaken lips. 

Harry was sure you knew what ample view of your cleavage he had from that vantage point. His eyes fixed on the small wound atop your right breast. It wasn’t bleeding anymore, and was just there, daring him to do what he so desperately wanted. 

Your skin was burning where his eyes were fixed. 

Deciding Harry needed some more persuasion, you perched yourself astride him, staring back down at him as you undid your updo, letting your locks fall to your waist, grazing Harry’s fingers. 

Casually reaching for your handkerchief, you slowly removed your lipstick, dragging the cloth over your lips in an agonizingly slow motion. 

“We don’t want any red lipstick on that collar, now, do we?” 

Not only was Harry stunned by this point, he was incredibly aroused. 

He knew the happy-go-lucky, goofy, charming, sexy, side of you. But you’d never been more desirable as you were right now, stating your wants so blatantly. That made him want you even more. 

Your hands fell on either side of his head, bearing your weight down on him, hips onto hips. The very audible groan that earned you made your skin flush with pleasure. 

Harry’s hands grabbed your thighs, holding you down on him. Your lips, now lipstick free, found his ear. You traced a path down to his throat with heavy kisses, breathing in his minty scent. 

“Darling, we’re in a car,” was all he could muster, the feel of you simply too much for him. 

“He said there’s traffic.”  

The decisive argument came when Harry found the zipper to your dress. 

His hands roamed your back, feeling the soft skin beneath. You enjoyed the rough feel of his calloused hands, especially when they found the very sensitive skin right below your breasts, teasing you there. 

You arched yourself against him, rolling your hips on his, feeling the evidence of his desire. His mouth latched onto your neck, beginning a slow descent downwards towards your breasts. Hips rolling and bucking, you let your head go, biting your lips as to muffle any moans as his mouth found the sensitive skin beneath the hem of your dress. 

You felt his hands rake across your back, pressing you to him frantically as his mouth tortured your breast. In retaliation, your hands flew to his belt, undoing it in one swift motion and reaching inside his pants. His response was immediate, muffled against your skin, as he panted out a breathy moan. 

His breath became more frantic as your ministrations accelerated, your name rolling off his lips a few times as he pushed into your hand. Just before his release, you pulled your hand away, the sharp contact with the air making him hiss. 

Mouths came colliding as he entered you. You were enthralled by the look on his face: eyes shut, teeth ground into his lips to keep silent, cheeks flushed. 

“Y/N… Sweetheart, I… I won’t hold out…” you cut him off, finger on his lips as he thrust into you with greater force. 

Your hips ground into his, desperate for that friction you desperately needed. As if on cue, Harry’s hand reached underneath your dress, pressing against your bud. You couldn’t contain a gasp as you rocked into his hand, feeling your release fast approaching. 

Harry held out just in time for you to come with him, mouths against skin; his biting down on your breast as you felt him thrust inside you one last time; yours against his ear, your moan making him tremble, exhausted in his pleasure. 

That was definitely not the kind of ride he was used to. 

He fervently hoped that car would never reach its destination. 

lol sorry i can’t do short pieces your girl needs 2000 years to set the scene. Also modified the prompt a tiny bit, hope that’s alright. 

Taglist: @justawriterinprogress; @tonystrksslut; @emilyyblackkk 

#request #writing #harry hart #harry hart x reader #fem!reader #harry hart x fem!reader #kingsman #kingsman: the secret service #kingsman: the golden circle #agent galahad #agent galahad x reader #original work #one shot #// smut

[averyonelovesjack]

four months apart ~ daniel seavey

requested: yes!!

Could you do an imagine where the reader is a musician and hasn’t seen Daniel in months? And like they come and surprise him while he’s singing his part of “8 Letters” on stage and its gets all fluffy and cute 

summary: as musicians, daniel and y/n spend a lot of time away from each other, but four months into their distance due to tour, y/n finally gets to surprise him on stage.

warning(s): daniel gets excited and curses a lil

word count: 1396

author’s note: k i know this (story, not the prompt) is lowkey unrealistic but idgaf i think it is cute. and also i did indeed go to the 8 letters tour but hunny if you think i remember the setlist, you are mistaken hahaha. so please bear with my decision that 8 letters is halfway through the show because in all honesty i just wanted to write what i wanted, not spend half the night fact checking itty bitty things lol enjoy

this had been planned out since the first tour dates were released. as a musician, my schedule was always jam packed. whether i was in the studio or on tour, or just simply spending all of my days writing, it was really hard to have a boyfriend. and then on top of that, my boyfriend is also a musician. and yet we made it work. going into this relationship, both of us knew that there were going to be long stretches where we simply couldn’t see each other and that was definitely the hardest part about it all. in all honesty, it was hard figuring out if i could even see my boyfriend’s tour when he was in our city, let alone when he was traveling across the country and the world. 

i knew as soon as they talked about an album tour that i would have to surprise him at one of his shows. it’s not very often that we get to see each other performing, because truthfully, it was our jobs. we love our jobs, don’t get me wrong, but when you come home at night and you see the person you love, the last thing you want to do is be working. so when we see each other, it’s rare that we’re spending that time working. 

that being said, there was something so special about watching daniel perform. there is almost no other time that i can see him be so comfortable and happy than when i see him up on stage performing with his best friends. it warmed my heart to see, and i knew that even if i could only surprise him once this tour, it had to happen.

once the tour dates were released, i immediately cleared my schedule for the Portland date. i told my managers, my family, my friends -- everyone except for daniel that i could not be bothered during that weekend because i needed to be in portland with my boyfriend and his family. i knew that it was going to be a special show for him, since portland was the biggest city he most frequently traveled to when he was a very young performer. i also knew that this was the show most of his family would be at, which made it that much better and more special. 

the portland show was much more towards the end of the tour than i had wanted. given that the only other shows i could see were the Los Angeles shows at the beginning, it was really, really difficult going into this knowing that i would go months without seeing him while he was away. and even though we made it work, i’m not sure how he’s even able to cope considering i’m holding onto a date that he doesn’t even know about. in his mind, we wouldn’t see each other for almost five months, whereas i know it only had to be four. i don’t know what i would’ve done if i couldn’t make the portland show work.

i let pretty much every single person tell me what i should do to surprise him. while i knew the general concept of my plan, i had absolutely no idea what to do. zach suggested i wish him luck before the beginning of the show and then watch him perform. his mom wanted me to wait until after and then run up to him as he got off of stage. it wasn’t until jack and their manager, actually, talked to me that i realized the best plan.

originally, jack and jonah had come up with the concept of me coming on stage during a song. they thought it was the perfect plan, considering i too love to sing and a love song would be the perfect time to surprise him. of course, it was also the least feasible, so no one actually informed me of their master plan until they brought it up to management. 

i honestly would’ve thought they’d reject it, seeing as it’s unconventional and might upset some fans. but their public relations team seemed to love the publicity it would bring to have me as a special guest, specifically as daniel’s love interest. 

and as soon as they told me, i knew it was what had to be done.

***

my blood pumped quickly through my veins as i could hear my heartbeat in my throat even through the loud audience. the boys had made it about halfway through their set and i knew my song was coming up. the boys had to make it through the first verse and the chorus and then i would jump in on stage once daniel’s verse started. from there, i would walk up to him and as soon as he finished his part, i would start to sing the pre-chorus with zach. it wasn’t a foolproof plan, but i knew he, and the fans, would appreciate the effort even if it wasn’t as smooth as we’d like.

i wasn’t the type of person to get nervous on stage anymore. i used to be insanely nervous, but once i got used to it i just got excited before shows. for some reason, though, i felt anxious to get on stage tonight. i knew it would be fun and i would be shaking with excitement once i got there, but just the waiting was killing me.

i heard the music start to plan and i decided to get in position by the side of the stage. the first minute of the song was absolutely torturous. i swear a song had never felt so long.

but once daniel started to sing, my heart opened and i jumped on stage. you could hear the crowd roar a little bit more, but the boys made sure to keep them aware that it was supposed to be a surprise and soon enough they were just cheering on daniel. 

“it’s like i’m whole again, isn’t that a sign? i should speak my mind.” i heard daniel say just as i got two feet behind him. 

he looked so happy, so at peace on that stage. and then i started to sing and i could see his face absolutely melt. 

“i’ve said those words before but it was a lie. and you deserve to hear them a thousand times.” i sing, harmonizing with zach. we had spent a long time on facetime perfecting our voices and then again once i got here. it actually turned out better than i expected, which was really nice.

daniel whipped his head around fast and almost fell to his knees as i teared up into the song. i finished the pre-chorus and then let the boys take over the chorus as daniel kept his hands over his mouth. jack and corbyn kept singing their lines, but i think almost everyone there had their eyes on daniel and i. 

i could see tears start to form in his eyes and i just stood in place, absolutely in shock, for a few seconds before i ran into his arms and let him wrap his entire body around me. 

daniel turned his mic off and the first thing he whispered into my ear was “are you actually here?”

i couldn’t help but let the tears fall down my face. it’d been months since i’d been able to feel his body’s warmth against mine, and just that alone made me absolutely emotional. “i’m here, baby. i’m right here.”

“how? how are you here?” he asks, still not letting go as the song continued. 

“i couldn’t miss this show. there was no way in hell.” i rested my forehead against his and smiled. “and you have me for the next three days. so i’m gonna have to let you go perform, but just so you know, i’ll be right there on left stage waiting for the next minute i can see you, okay?”

“i love you, y/n.” daniel says. “i love you so fucking much.”

“i love you too, dani.” i pecked his lips, held his hands for a few more seconds, and then ran off stage just before the next song could start. 

i could see the fans riled up in the audience, but i knew even as excited as they were to see us together, no one would be more excited than daniel and i.

#daniel seavey #jonah marais #jack avery #zach herron #corbyn besson #daniel #seavey #daniel seavey imagine #daniel imagine #dani seavey imagine #why don't we #wdw #why don't we imagine #wdw imagine #imagines #imagine #singer #music #fallin' #falling #fallin #wdw come back #song #love #love song #8 letters #8 letters album #singing #one shot #wdw one shot

[unsteadygalaxy]

all is soft inside chapter 10

a miragehound multichapter fanfiction

Also posted on Ao3; my username is the same there!

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10. feet won’t fail you now

CW: blood, match violence

Elliott lands hard, the impact sending shockwaves through his feet and legs. His heart immediately starts to pound- three sets of footsteps echo around him and he dives into the nearest building. He scoops up a Prowler, inserts a nearby HCOG scope, and just as he’s finishing up, the door in front of him flies open.

He breathes, steadying his aim, and pulls the trigger five times, sending an entire clip directly into a Legend hopeful’s head. The poor man’s face turns white and he immediately drops to the ground. Mirage lets out a whoosh of breath, and finishes him off. He’s got two heavy ammo boxes and a level one backpack, which he quickly takes. Another set of footsteps quickly approaches, and Mirage reloads the Prowler. 

The other door bangs open, and just as Mirage turns around, Revenant fires an Eva-8 right at him. Two rounds of double-fire pellets rip into Elliott’s chest and neck, and to his horror, he falls to the ground, bleeding and gasping. Shit! No! It can’t end like this! 

“Hey, uh, need help,” he gags into his earpiece, blood pouring from his mouth. Revenant picks up a crate of shotgun ammo and leaves, reloading his Eva-8 as he goes.

“Damn, Witt, lose that winning energy so quick?” Octane teases over the comms, and Elliott can hear more gunfire in the background. 

“Oh, you know,” he chokes, “it’s kind of hard to win when you immediately get downed by a goddamn murderbot!” His hands are slick with red and he’s fading fast, and he wants to throw up.

A giant smoke grenade comes careening through the door, and Elliott’s vision is immediately obscured. He presses his hands to his wounds, trying desperately to keep the pressure on so he doesn’t bleed out. “Williams, coming to my rescue? You shouldn’t have,” he says, and he coughs up a glob of blood that splatters across the floor. 

“Shut up and let me focus, Witt!!” Anita’s voice is commanding and harsh over the earpiece, and it shuts Elliott right up.

Just as his vision starts to go fuzzy, he hears a percussive beat of bullets close by, and Revenant screams, his modulated voice garbled with rage. “Get back here, you coward!” Anita yells. “Damn you!” Elliott loses track of how much time passes, but just before he passes out, something sharp plunges directly into his heart. “Fuck!” he yells, and his body jolts painfully, sending his arms and legs flailing. Adrenaline and heat surge through his veins, painfully clotting and repairing his wounds. A rush wallops his head and Anita drags him to his feet.

“Come on, Witt, get off your ass and give us a hand, would you?” She’s panting hard as she sticks a syringe into her wrist. Elliott grabs the wall for support as a wave of nausea flows through him, threatening to overturn his stomach.

“Yeah, yeah, thanks, Williams,” he chokes out, spitting out the last of the blood. “How many are left?”

“Two, by my count. Revenant got away, and he’s still got a teammate somewhere. Looks like you took care of their third.” She nods over at him, seemingly satisfied with his work. Anita had consistently been the toughest to crack- Elliott had not yet made her laugh to this day- so he would take what he could get.

“Yep, wasn’t a problem,” he says flippantly, shrugging as picks up a nearby shield cell. “Poor guy went down faster than- faster than… uh, poor guy went down fast.” His cheeks burn at his failed attempt at some sort of joke, and Anita’s deadpan expression tells him she’s not amused, either. 

She tosses him a Phoenix Kit, and he fumbles it a little before shoving his arm into it. “Not the time. Joke around later. He’ll be coming back for us any second now.” Her voice is short, and it stings Elliott’s ego a little. 

The Kit depletes with a hissing noise, and Elliott is good to go. He reloads his Prowler with shaking fingers. “Hey, let me get Revenant,” Elliott says, readjusting his backpack against his shoulders. “Gotta pay the son-of-a-bitch back. You go help Octane with… whatever he’s doing.” “Sure you can handle yourself?” Anita sounds skeptical, and her eyebrows are raised as she reloads her weapons. “Me?” He forces an incredulous laugh. “Of course I can! Didn’t you see how well I kicked his ass the other day? This’ll be a walk in the park.” He hops up and down on the balls of his feet, still feeling a little faint from being brought back from the brink. 

“All right.” Anita shrugs and gives her weapon one last check, and she’s out the door before he knows it. She probably just wants to see me get my ass handed to me, he thinks, but it’s not a big deal. He wants to prove her wrong.

Sure enough, the sound of robotic footsteps pounds ominously against the pavement outside. Elliott casts a decoy and stations it next to the door, hoping to buy him a few more seconds. Shnk! An arc star slams into the already fragile door and begins to whine. Elliott throws himself backwards, deeper into the building, and shields his face against the explosion. The door disintegrates into bits, and the sound is deafening in his ears. An orange silencer hits the ground with a sinister whoosh, and Elliott backs up more, leveling his Prowler as his decoy dissipates into the air. 

Revenant charges through the open door and through his silencer, hefting his Eva-8 once more. Elliott fires the Prowler, and the bullets smatter against the simulacrum’s shoulders, barely missing his head. Elliott curses under his breath and dodges out of the way as a volley of pellets exits Revenant’s gun. The bullets connect with his shoulder and arm and Elliott cries out in pain. He casts a decoy and sends it running right at Revenant to give himself more time to reload. Revenant grunts in frustration and nearly pulls the trigger again just as Elliott takes aim. 

A full magazine of ammo assaults Revenant’s head and chest, and he goes down immediately, his shields melting into nothingness. “Damn you, skinsuit!” Revenant screams, trying to crawl away. But it’s no use- Elliott finishes Revenant off, sending another magazine of ammo right into his metal head.

“Murderbot down!” he shouts over the comms, heaving a sigh of relief. “What’s happening out there?” He loots Revenant’s backpack and heals up while he waits for an answer.

“Two squads down!” Octane crows, sounding extremely proud of himself. “You’re really missing all the fun out here, amigo!”

“Hey, I took care of Revenant, didn’t I?” Elliott replies indignantly as he plunges another syringe into his wrist. “You all should be thanking me.” He’s being cocky and he knows it, but it’s so much easier than admitting he fucked up in the heat of the moment.

“Sounds like you’re two for two with him, Witt,” Anita calls, breathing hard from her and Octane’s fight. “Good work. Keep it up.”

Elliott raises an eyebrow, somewhat surprised by Bangalore’s open praise. “Wow, thanks, Anita! I’m touched, really. You do have a heart.” “Don’t make me regret it, kid.”

“All right, all right, fine.” He smiles and zips up his backpack, and then realizes that Bangalore really isn’t that much older than him. “Hey!”

------------------------

kzzzhhhCRACK!

Shit.

A Sentinel bullet just barely misses Elliott’s nose, and he dives back under the scaffolding. His heart is racing and his pulse is pounding; this match has barely given him and his team time to breathe. They’ve just finished a ridiculous fight in which four different squads had piled up on each other, and he’s absolutely covered in blood and gunpowder. The only perk of continually fighting so many people is that he and Octane and Bangalore are fully kitted with every item they could need. Bangalore is taking a Phoenix kit and Octane is still for once, just getting finished with charging his shields. The banners report that there is only one other squad besides them, and Elliott is grateful. He’s had about enough of being third partied.  

Elliott reloads his Prowler with shaking fingers and checks his Triple Take. After making sure the digital sight is correctly slotted, he takes a deep breath and aims up towards Cage. Through the sights, he can see Wattson’s fences crackling around each of the entrances to the upper part of the tower. Caustic’s intimidating form glows red for a moment and then disappears behind the railings. Dammit, Elliott thinks. Wattson’s fences plus Caustic’s gas make for a deadly combination, and an annoying one at that. The only thing that made that duo worse was Bloodhound being on their team, and if that charged Sentinel shot was any indication, Elliott and his team had a miniscule chance of winning if they rushed the tower. 

“Who’s up there, amigo?” Octane asks, clearly ready to go. He’s literally vibrating with anticipation, and he makes Elliott exhausted just by looking at him. 

“Caustic, Natalie, and Bloodhound,” he sighs, and ducks back into cover. “They’re set up in there like it’s a goddamn fort. Gonna be impossible to charge up in there.” He wipes sweat from his forehead and leans back against one of the posts.

“Well, where’s the next Ring at?” Bangalore questions, pulling out her holomap. She pinches her fingers and zooms in on their location, squinting hard. “Damn,” she swears, and dread fills Elliott’s chest. “The top of Cage is just barely inside the next Ring.” She snaps the map shut angrily and stuffs it back into her pockets.

Octane swears under his breath. “Looks like today’s just not our day,” he says, itching at his cap. He stands and peeks up above their hiding spot, just barely poking out of cover. kzzzhhhCRACK! His body flies backwards, his helmet blinking out of existence, and he scrambles back down to them, sheepishly pulling out a shield battery.

Elliott groans, amused and frustrated. The chances of them feasibly winning this match are fading fast. There’s no way they’ll be able to get up there undetected, and the thought of fighting upwards made Elliott exhausted. He’s so tempted to just recklessly run in, but something stops him. 

Bloodhound wouldn’t give up, and neither should you.

He sighs, knowing it’s true. Bloodhound would find any way they could to dominate the situation and reshape it to their will. He’s jealous for the millionth time, and has to remind himself that Bloodhound is human and fallible too, even if he still doesn’t really believe it.

“All right, we’ve got a couple options,” Mirage says, rubbing his chin. “Either we wait them out, or we can charge up there head on before the Ring closes. Personally, I’d vote for smoking them out, but I’m not the one with the missiles.” He inclines his head towards Bangalore.

Anita considers this, then shakes her head. “Neither of them are ideal options. Waiting them out would give us the upper hand, but we could also take them by surprise by charging them now. We’d have to take out all the traps though.” She breaks off, still thinking intensely. “But if we wait for them to charge, we’ll have to deal with Bloodhound’s Ultimate plus Caustic’s gas. The next Ring is small enough that that’ll make the battlefield hard to navigate. Plus, my smoke will be pretty much useless. Bloodhound’s Eye will make sure of that.”

Elliott has to agree with that. He’s been trying to avoid thinking about them all day, but of course they’re on the last enemy squad. The way they had run out of the bar the night before made him extremely concerned, and his stomach churns when he thinks of how stiff and cold they had become. Elliott doesn’t completely know what he did wrong, but he knows he must have brought up something painful for them to leave as abruptly as they had. 

But the memory of holding their hands in his makes his cheeks burn a little. He remembers how their grief had rolled off of them in waves, and how he’d felt so utterly helpless. Still, he’d felt closer to them than ever before, even though they were separated across the bar. Their openness had intimidated him a little bit- they were so naturally talented at making him feel better, and reciprocating definitely wasn’t his forte. But most of all, he had been stunned to the core by what he had told them. He would never be able to look at Epicenter the same way again.

“Witt!” Anita barks, and the way she says it tells Elliott that it’s definitely not the first time she has called to him.

“Sorry, what?”

“Ring’s closing in 30,” she warns. “We’re charging up the tower. How many times do I have to tell you to get your head out of your ass?”

“At least a few times more,” he fires back, rolling his eyes. He’s frustrated, but mostly at himself for getting distracted. “Sorry. I’m good to go.”

Anita does not look convinced, but she just sighs and turns back to her map. “All right. I’ll call in my missiles. Ring should be small enough to cover the whole area. Silva, try to get behind them. Witt, you throw us some clones whenever you’ve got them. I’ll toss in some smoke to keep them blinded. We’ve all got at least one digital scope, so that should give us an edge once we get up top.” 

“Sounds good, amiga,” Octane agrees. “They won’t know what hit them!” He’s fidgeting with his butterfly knife, and Elliott is one hundred percent positive that Ajay is going to have to deal with his sliced fingers sooner or later.

Elliott nods as he flips on the full-auto mode on his Prowler. His limbs are aching and he’s drenched in sweat, but he’s determined to see this through. Anita’s plan is pretty solid, and he’s got few qualms with it. Her expertise on the battlefield is something he’s always been grateful for. Careful planning and meticulous strategy were certainly her strengths, and she regularly put his on-the-fly ideas to shame. 

She checks over her weapons and then pulls out her Ultimate grenade, just as a warning horn blares over the loudspeakers. “Let’s give them a show.”

The Ring moves swiftly, advancing across the plains of green grass with an ominous humming noise. Elliott only has a few seconds, but he peeks back through his sniper sights to see what’s happening in the tower. Bloodhound is still crouched next to the steel fences, and he’s sure they have an easy shot on him. But they don’t fire. They look away from their sights and shrug at him, as if to say, Show me what you are made of. A peculiar heat drops into his stomach.

He looks back through the sights for a split second, but his heart drops into his gut when he realizes they had forgotten something absolutely essential. “Anita, wait! Wattson’s py-”

But it’s too late- Bangalore cocks her arm back and lobs the canister forwards, a shower of red sparks whizzing through the air. Missiles crash into the ground, and Elliott groans out loud. “Shit,” he hisses, punching the ground next to him. As the missiles advance forward, brilliant sparks of blue arc out into the sky over a limited radius, zapping the rockets away like they’re nothing more than flies. 

Bangalore groans, immediately popping to her feet. “Come on, we’ve got to go!” She takes off running towards Cage, just barely ahead of the rockets as they begin to detonate. 

The ground starts to heave beneath his feet, and Elliott stumbles as he starts to run. Bangalore is much more accustomed to sprinting across the roiling earth, and she does so with ease and grace. Octane weaves in and out of the explosions at an inhuman pace, pulling out his jump pad as he goes. “Vamonos!” he cries gleefully, laughing as he soars into the air.

Elliott can barely keep up, and he can feel the heat at his back as he goes. He nearly trips and falls, but recovers at the last possible second. His entire body is killing him, and he can feel sweat running down his spine as he runs. God, this whole thing is starting to feel hopeless again. He can see it now- they’ll run up to Cage and Caustic will drop gas canisters everywhere, leaving them a minefield of fumes. Wattson will fence up all the entrances and neutralize their grenades, and Bloodhound will weave across the battlefield, taking Elliott’s team out without a second thought. He figures that Bangalore and Octane can easily hold their own for at least a while, but there is no plausible victory for him today. 

He’s never felt this hopeless, this reluctant to try and win a match, and it scares him a little. Elliott tries shoving the thoughts away- he doesn’t have time for his self-deprecating tendencies. But the doubt creeps into his veins and stubbornly sinks in its claws, making it really hard to think without immediately assuming the worst. He feels antsy, anxious to just get this over with and go back to his apartment above the bar to sulk for the rest of the day.

Show me what you are made of.

He swears he hears Bloodhound’s voice in his head, and the thought suddenly bolsters his confidence tenfold. Mirage throws a decoy out through the smoke ahead of him, hoping that Bloodhound takes notice of it and not him. Shifting the Prowler in his hands, he winces as the rockets nearest to him detonate, throwing him off balance again. They’re almost to Cage, and he starts to sprint towards the stairs on his left. G7 and Triple Take shots ring out towards him, narrowly missing his running form. He makes it to the steel tunnel and scrambles inside, holding his breath as the last few rockets explode. He hears the horrible screech of shredding metal, and takes bizarre comfort in knowing that the enemy team is that much more exposed up in the tower as the doors explode. A high pitched noise plays over the speakers, and he knows that the final Ring will soon begin to close.

I’ll show you.

“Where’s everyone at?” he hisses through the comms, his pulse roaring in his ears. He’s going to win this game if it kills him, dammit. 

“Ground floor,” Anita answers, and he hears her breathing hard. “Got hit by a couple bullets, but I’m healing up.”

“Second floor,” Octane says, not sounding tired in the slightest. “The rockets busted through a couple fences, so we’ve got an opening, but we gotta go fast.”

“Got it,” Elliott says, his mind whirring. “Williams, got any ideas?”

“Always,” she replies steadily. “Send out some decoys and try to join us down here. The zipline on the south side is still in the Ring, so we’ve got our point of entry. If we try to make it around to the other one, we’ll be toast. Only Silva has any chance of running in and out of the Ring and making it out alive.”

“Hell yeah, chica!” Octane laughs, ridiculously upbeat and much too excited for this. “I’ll be faster que un conejo!” 

Elliott’s minimal Spanish comes in clutch, and he rolls his eyes. “Sure, buddy. Just don’t get yourself killed up there. There’s a hunter waiting for you.” He checks over his weapons, and after considering it for a moment, he takes the digital threat sniper optics off of his Triple Take. He’s not going to need it now- they’ll be fighting in too close of quarters for him to be effective with it. Best shotgun in the Games, he thinks, laughing at his own joke.

“All right, coming for you guys in three, two, one!” Elliott sprints out of the tunnels, sending all of his decoys spiraling in different directions. As expected, bullets begin to pepper the ground around him as he runs towards an entrance. The Ring is blocking off the two low slats at the bottom of Cage, so he makes his way to the west side door. kzzzhhhCRACK! A Sentinel bullet collides with the top of his head, and he screams in pain, launching himself into the double doors. They give way, and he stumbles inside, slinging off his backpack as he goes. 

“S-shit,” he stutters, rooting through his bag for a Phoenix Kit. He locates one and stuffs his arm into it, his whole body shaking. Anita is there in an instant, tossing down a cover of smoke just in case any of the enemy team had decided to drop down to try and finish Elliott off. No such footsteps are heard, and Elliott breathes a sigh of relief.

Time is quickly running out, and the three of them really need to move. “Okay, we’ve gotta get up there fast. This is gonna suck, but I’d rather go down fighting,” he pants as the Kit finishes healing him. 

“Already on it!” Octane is somewhere above them, and Elliott hears the whirring noise of a zipline. He looks to Anita, who runs up the ramp and disappears out of sight. Elliott clambers to his feet and follows, willing his hands to stop shaking. 

“I’m gonna take out the doors!” Octane announces, and Elliott hears a frag grenade skip across the metal above him. There’s a huge boom, and the doors shred into bits, the noise of it wrenching through his ears. Gas hisses and spews just as Elliott clambers to the open third floor, and Octane begins to cough. “Dammit!”

The smaller man drops down to them via the zipline and immediately pops a shield cell. “I busted the traps, but Señor Apestoso just sent down more.” 

“It’s fine,” Anita replies shortly. “Is the pylon still up?”

“Yeah, but it’s out of the Ring, so the circle barely reaches them.” 

“Can you shoot it down?”

“No, it’s in a really weird spot. Kind of hiding up there. You gotta be in the middle of the room to shoot it down, and that’s a no go.”

Anita swears, but Elliott smiles, a fantastic idea popping into his head. “Not a problem. Let’s get back up there and send in some distractions,” he says. He hopes to God that things work in their favor, and he readies his Prowler before jumping to the zipline. 

His jump pack carries him up, and as he lands he dives to the right, dangerously close to the wall of the Ring. Both doors have indeed been demolished, and so has Wattson’s fence. One post still sits next to the opening, barely blocked by two of Caustic’s gas traps. Elliott shoots the traps down, but a third one comes flying down to take its place. He’s too close to it, and it goes off, releasing fumes everywhere. Gas clouds his vision and chokes his lungs, and he tries desperately to back up enough to be out of it, but the Ring is too close. Sticking a syringe into his wrist, he dips out of the Ring for just a moment. The orange energy field bites into his skin, and he groans in pain, every nerve on fire. Damn, Natalie, way to go, he thinks wildly. Even in the middle of a match, he can still admire his friends’ expertise and genius, and Wattson’s engineering of the Ring is no exception.

The gas cloud dissipates and Anita and Octavio zip up, landing beside him. She shoots in a canister of smoke, and Elliott acts immediately. A decoy sprints through the busted doors, stopping just short of the edge of the Ring. Octane dashes into the room after sticking a stim into his veins, a green blur of activity that Elliott can’t quite follow. He skirts the edge of the Ring and throws a frag up onto the top floor, but it’s zapped away by Wattson’s pylon. A tattoo of bullets beats down onto the metal, and Elliott cringes, willing Octane to get out of there as his decoy disappears in a shower of blue sparks.

“Octavio, come on!” he yells. But Octane is fast, of course- he weaves through the barrage of fire with ease and comes skidding to a stop just outside the doors.

“Told you, amigo!”

“Not the time!” Elliott says, his heart pounding. Anita shoots in another canister and Elliott puts his plan into motion.

Another decoy runs lazily across the floor with a snap of Elliott’s fingers, and pretends to check the pouches in its belt. The three enemies upstairs do not shoot, having caught on to Mirage’s tricks. Anita sneaks in behind it, examines the radius of Wattson’s pylon, and makes a calculated throw with an arc star. To Elliott’s delight, it slips up above them and connects with Caustic’s foot before spectacularly exploding in a wave of dizzying energy. Elliott feels the hairs on the back of his neck stand up, and he takes advantage of the distraction.

He aims his Prowler up and fires, and the pylon crumples to the ground in a series of deafening crackling noises. His decoy hadn’t been a decoy at all, and the adrenaline of his plan actually working floods into his chest like a rush of water. His celebration is short-lived though- the sting of bullets begins to slam across his shoulders, and he releases all of his decoys. The cloaking does its job, and he takes a brief moment to hurl a thermite grenade up above him before sprinting out the doors. Wattson’s fences putter out, roasted by the flames, and Elliott breathes a sigh of relief. 

He cheers out loud as he heals up, his body shaking in delight and shock. It had actually worked! But the job was not over yet- even though he can hear the other team groaning in pain up above him, he knows they still have to finish them off. 

“Let’s go!” Anita calls, and she ascends the zipline, closely followed by Octane. Elliott rounds the corner, reloading his Prowler. Just as he makes it to the zipline,  Caustic throws down another trap, which Elliott narrowly avoids before shooting down. 

The steady chak-chak-chak of a hopped up P2020 rings through the air, and a collection of bullets from Octane’s gun collides with Caustic’s face and chest. Octavio moves to reload, but Nox catches him with a deadly Mastiff shot straight to the head, shattering the smaller man’s shields. Elliott ascends the zipline and unleashes a full clip of ammo into Caustic’s arms and neck, finishing him off quickly, but Octane takes a bullet from Wattson across the way, and he falls to the floor, unconscious. 

Anita fires a full clip of ammo into Wattson’s chest, and the engineer falls to the ground, wincing and gasping. She finishes her off, but the older woman breathes hard, clearly having taken a considerable amount of bullets from somewhere as Elliott was helping Octavio. Sure enough, the percussive barrage of an R-99 shatters the brief silence, and Anita falls to the ground, swearing. 

Bloodhound emerges from the opposite corner of the room, and Elliott does not hesitate. The warning horn of the closing Ring roars out, and Elliott leaps down from the upper level, knowing there’s absolutely zero chance of reviving Anita. A few quick bullets follow him, but Bloodhound is smart enough to not completely track his erratic movement. Elliott sprints across the floor and out the doors, throwing himself off the tower and onto the grass below.

He hits the ground running, ankles and knees screaming in protest, and he thanks his lucky stars that Bloodhound can’t keep the high ground. He hears them roar in that deep, otherworldly fashion, and his stomach drops straight into his toes. The Triple Take slides into his hands as he turns, and he watches in awe as Bloodhound leaps off the tower far more gracefully than he had, surrounded by crackling red energy. He backs up, takes aim, and fires twice, but the spread of bullets is too wide and each bullet whizzes past their glowing form. He has to remind himself not to stare- it’s not the time to dwell on how powerful and majestic they look, nor is it time to listen to how heavy they’re breathing and worry if they’re okay. Elliott fires again, and the shot connects, but a torrent of bullets smashes into his chest. He swears, fumbling the Prowler back into his hands. In a panic, he sends a decoy running straight at them to give him more time, but Bloodhound shoots it down. They bob and weave, taking a second to reload. 

Elliott takes his chance. He breathes deeply, centering himself, and aims the Prowler right at their head. Time seems to slow, just like it had with Revenant, and he applies the slightest bit of pressure to his trigger finger. The bullets fly out of the gun, and he doesn’t feel the recoil at all. Every bullet finds its mark on Bloodhound’s head, obliterating their golden helmet and sinking into their mask.

Bloodhound drops to the ground and convulses for a moment before going horribly, eerily still.

Shock washes through his stomach, and he drops the Prowler. A buzzing fills Elliott’s ears. He… he actually did it? He… beat Bloodhound?

He approaches Bloodhound’s unconscious form slowly, feeling like he’s in a dream, and stares at them. They look so peaceful, even though blood is leaking from their helmet down into the grass. He picks up their R-99, weighing it in his hands. A flash of memory and feeling comes to him from a few days before- Bloodhound picking up his gun and placing it over his sternum…

Mirage settles the R-99 across their chest gently. As he falls to his knees, a flash of pain crosses his chest. He knows he should feel triumphant- ecstatic, even- but the only thing he feels is sorrow. 

Elliott picks up their arm, crosses it across their stomach, and murmurs, “forgive me” as victory music roars over the loudspeakers.

#miragehound #apex #apex legends #bloodhound #bloodhound apex #bloodhound apex legends #elliott witt #elliott witt apex #elliott witt apex legends #mirage #mirage apex #mirage apex legends #miragehound fanfiction #my writing

[bitsandbobsandstuff]

The (not naked) pin-up calendar

Summary: When you ask for a favor, Bucky (very) grudgingly agrees. What can you do to thank him? Return the favor, of course.

Characters: Bucky x Reader; a plethora of Avengers Warnings: Hardcore fluff. Soldiers wrestling like immature children. Steve being weirded out by nut sacks. Harry Potter references. A hint of naughty times at the end.

A/N: This is silly and fun and what can I say, writing sassy Bucky makes me happy. This is for @beckzorz 1k Writing Challenge (go follow this incredibly talented, beautiful lady), and my prompt was ‘Pin-up calendar’. Thanks a million for hosting Becca, I love you 3000! ♥️

Want to find all my stories? Search #bitsmasterlist or try the link in my bio!

*****

Overnight, the list gets tacked on the corkboard in the kitchen.

Bucky’s rummaging through the pantry, searching for his breakfast Doritos and a jar of salsa to dunk them in, when he glimpses his name from a distance. Snatching up a butter knife, he wanders over to the wall. When he sees the list header, he whirls around in a flurry of tangled hair and irrational grumpiness.

“What the hell is this?”

Bucky complaining first thing in the morning is par for the course, so both Sam and Steve, strolling in to search for breakfast, ignore him. Sam veers toward the sugary cereal cabinet, Steve heads for the oversize Ironman container housing granola, and Bucky stomps his foot like a toddler.

“Don’t get your panties in a twist,” Steve says seconds later, through an overflowing mouthful of flaxseed and yogurt. “You already agreed. You’re not backing out.”

Bucky spins around and reads the flyer again.

---

“Avengers Calendar Shoot”

See below for your name and photo call timing.

Monday: Carol (10am), Wanda (2pm), Scott (6pm)

Tuesday: Rhodey (10am), Sam (2pm), Steve (6pm)

Wednesday: Tony (10am), Bruce (2pm), Natasha (6pm)

Thursday: Thor (10am), Clint (2pm), Bucky (6pm)

---

Stomping his foot again, Bucky stabs the flyer with the aforementioned butter knife.

“Someone better be yankin’ my dick right now,” he warns. “I definitely didn’t agree to bare my wrinkly nut sack for the whole fucking world to see.”

Sam dry heaves over his Lucky Charms.

Steve’s now filling his Black Widow coffee mug and rolling his eyes.

“What is it with you always trying to be naked? It’s not a naked thing, it’s a charity thing. Innocent children who don’t know what an asshole you are will see this, so you better be wearing clothes,” Steve gives his mug an annoying slurp. “Besides - you already agreed. No takebacks.”

“Steve,” Bucky crisply pivots, launching metaphorical murder darts from his eyes. “We’ve talked about this. Don’t tell me how to live my life.”

“Well it was your girl who convinced everyone to do it, so good luck telling her you’re a liar.” Instead of responding, Bucky holds up a Dorito in front of Steve and peers around the silhouette. Draws a few angles in his head. “What?” Steve asks brusquely.

“Nothing,” Bucky mutters. The chip cracks between his teeth with a puff of toxic orange. “Just makin’ an observation.”

“Just wear your scary leather bondage uniform with your scary mask and stand there all scary. You don’t even need to smile,” Sam says. Spooning cereal in with one hand, his other is attempting to worm its way into Bucky’s bag of chips. Cradling the Doritos under his arm, Bucky twists away, blocking the attack.

“Good way to lose a finger. Don’t touch my things.”

Sam swallows his cereal, ignores the lethal look in Bucky’s eyes, and tries again.

Steve joins in.

And so, when you roll into the kitchen a few minutes later, here’s what you find: three Avengers, three veteran soldiers, wrestling over a bag of Doritos. Bucky has Sam in a headlock, Sam is kicking Bucky’s shins and hitting him with a milky spoon, and for some reason, Steve is dancing around trying to tickle them both.

Clearing your throat, the trio freezes.

You smile.

“Gentlemen.”

Flailing arms and legs instantly break apart. Sam and Steve have the good grace to look chastened, both stammering embarrassed apologies. Bucky simply shoves a fistful of Doritos in his mouth and smiles triumphantly. Striding over to you, he wraps an arm around your shoulders.

“Babe, take my side here. You don’t want the whole world to see my nut sack, right?”

“Stop saying nut sack,” Steve hisses. “Nuts are gross.”

“Maybe your nuts are gross Steve,” Sam pipes up, rubbing his shirt with a wet rag, trying to clear away Bucky’s orange powder fingerprints, “but my nuts are awesome.” After a few harsh scrubs, he sees the futility and throws the rag in Bucky’s face. Stalking from the kitchen, he shouts something about laundry wheels and Oxyclean.

When you pluck the bag of Doritos from Bucky’s grubby hands, he releases them easily and grins at your exasperation. Sidling close, he rubs up against you like a needy kitten, so you hug him tight, dipping your fingers down to squeeze his butt.

“Please do it Bucky, I already told them you would. Wear anything you want, you don’t even have to smile,” you murmur in his ear, knowing precisely which buttons to push. “And besides, I bet I’m not the only one who wants to see those pretty blue eyes. Right?”

Bucky purses his lips. Wrinkles his nose. Grumbles under his breath.

And because you’re looking at him all wide-eyed and soft, he gives in.

Like he always does.

“Fine,” he huffs. “Fine. I’ll do it for you.”

“So much drama,” Steve mumbles through his granola. Bucky lunges for him, but Steve drops his bowl in the sink and skirts past, rushing for the door. Looking back, he throws Bucky a challenging smirk, before smacking into the doorframe. There’s a brief ricochet and then he’s scurrying down the hall, laughing as he goes.

“Idiot,” Bucky mutters.

Folding your fingers behind his neck, you turn his face back to you and kiss his stubbly cheek. “Thank you. Reason number one billion and two why I love you.”

At the brush of your lips, Bucky promptly grabs the back of your thighs and hoists you in the air. Spinning around, he shuffles over to the counter and drops you on top. Settling between your legs, hands flat on the counter boxing you in, his mouth finds the open space above your shirt collar and he proceeds to kiss every square inch.

“The things I do for you,” he breathes, sucking his favorite spot along your neck. It makes you shiver, that thing he does with his tongue. “You realize now I gotta go on a diet.”

“What? No, you don’t. You look perfect.”

Disappointingly, he stops that whole talented tongue thing and leans back. Grinding your heels into his butt, you kick him, urging him to stay put. Instead, he sighs in that tragic, pay attention to me way that only Bucky Barnes can do.

“Obviously I’m perfect, so are you by the way, but the camera adds five pounds. I have to preemptively lose it.” Crinkling up his now empty bag of Doritos, he throws it at the trash can and misses by a mile. He gives you a hangdog, pathetic sort of look. “This sucks.”

Bucky Barnes, ladies and gentlemen. The most dramatic human being on the planet.

“Don’t be ridiculous, you don’t need to diet. You could weigh a thousand pounds and it wouldn’t matter, you don’t - “

“Maybe not, like, a thousand pounds,” Bucky interrupts. “That’d make sex super hard. And not good hard. Just awkward hard. You know? Like when Hagrid’s mom and dad had sex. Which I still don’t understand how that’s supposed to work and I’ve done a shitload of research on it, been on all kinds of forums and talked to some experts - there’s a guy at SHIELD who specializes in interplanetary species relationships, I don’t know if you knew that - but anyway it just makes no sense because she would have killed that little guy if he tried to bang her, and I’m sorry, that’s the tea and I’ll fucking fight anyone who disagrees.”

Pausing for breath, he looks so earnest you almost hate to stop him.

“Buck, maybe we try one day where you don’t reference Harry Potter? I know you’re a fan, but - “

“I drew some diagrams,” he continues. “Boning diagrams. But like, I still can’t get it to work.”

Staring into space, he lets his marvelous tactical brain run every scenario of sexual acrobatics required to establish the feasibility of human-giant sex.

This could go on forever. Once Bucky gets knee-deep in fan forum theories, hours will lapse before he swims up for air. Many a morning has found him still in his boxers, laptop on his knees while he smashes the keyboard, arguing with virtual enemies about the physical features of Hogwarts house founders or the complex nuances of international Wizarding trade law.

The truth is - Bucky Barnes is a god damn nerd.

Clapping your hands, you drag him back to real life.

“Focus please. You’re good to do this then? Without the diet?”

“I really really hate it,” he replies, matter of fact, “but I really really love you, so if you want me to, I guess I’m in. But I’m still losing five pounds.”

“You’re my favorite, you know that?” Slipping your hands up under his shirt, you massage the tight muscles alone his spine and he hums happily. Flashing a lazy grin, he boops your nose.

“You know what? I think you should do it too. Be so great to have a sexy poster of you for those long nights when I’m gone and can’t sleep,” he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. “If you know what I mean.”

“I’m going to pretend I don’t know what you mean.”

“Whatever. Like you don’t have a folder full of dick pics with my name on it,” he laughs.

“I wish you’d stop sending me those,” you say sternly. “You know this is my work phone.”

“So? You always need fresh material for your diddle box. Keeps the romance alive,” he says. Reaching up behind you, he tugs open the snack cabinet and rummages for a new bag of Doritos. The airtight blurp of a new jar of salsa follows.

“I’m sure I’ll regret this, but - what exactly is a diddle box?”

Massive Winter Soldier eye roll.

“All the pictures and videos and sexy shit you use to masturbate. Clearly.”

“Why do I ask you questions,” you sigh.

“I’m starting my diet tomorrow,” he answers instead, before dunking a fresh Dorito in the salsa.

*****

The next two weeks are spent with Bucky mostly eating raw vegetables and baked chicken breast and loudly commenting on the sorrows of dieting to everyone he encounters.

“You’re being ridiculous Bucky. No one told you to lose weight.”

“No,” he says glumly, crunching a celery stick with a martyred expression. “I need to be hot. Beauty is pain.”

“You are a pain.”

He sighs dramatically. Stares wistfully into the distance. Snaps a carrot in half.

“The things I do for you.”

“Jesus.”

*****

AVENGERS CALENDAR SHOOT THIS WEEK!

Remember to be on time, or we will choose the worst picture of you and print that.

We’re assholes that way.

Thanks,

Management

*****

MONDAY

(SEPTEMBER: Danvers, Carol; Captain Marvel)

Carol throws her bomber jacket over her red, blue, and gold uniform, and adds a sleek pair of vintage Ray Bans. Climbing into the cockpit of her fighter jet, she turns herself all glowy and golden, the color bouncing merrily off the control panel. Tipping her face down to the camera, she flashes the Shaka sign and gives the photographer a huge smile.

(FEBRUARY: Maximoff, Wanda; Scarlett Witch)

Wanda goes all out on all things red. Clad in a long red dress and long coat, surrounded by hundreds of red flowers - tulips and roses and carnations - she curls her fingers and everything around her begins to glow with a warm red light. When she smiles at the camera, her head tilts shyly.

(OCTOBER: Lang, Scott; Antman)

Is Scott actually in the picture or did someone spill coffee? The photographer sees a white sheet and a black spec, and scratches his head in confusion. Antman is kinda weird.

*****

TUESDAY

(NOVEMBER: Rhodes, James; War Machine)

Rhodey shows up dressed head to toe in gunmetal colored armor. When he snaps the faceplate down, the photographer timidly asks if maybe he wants to show his face. Rhodey flips the faceplate back up, reminds the photographer how badass this armor is, and says nope. He’s all good, thanks.

(APRIL: Wilson, Sam; Falcon)

Sam has spent the last few nights practicing his Zoolander pout in the bathroom mirror. He decides to wear a tight black t-shirt and comfortable jeans, with his wings spread wide, Redwing hovering beside him. At the last minute, his sultry pout melts into an animated belly laugh and they decide to use that one instead.

(JULY: Rogers, Steven; Captain America)

Steve goes back to his roots. Wearing a too small shirt and holey old jeans, he gazes pensively at the easel in front of him, glossy blond hair combed in a perfect wave. Fingers dusty with charcoal, he points to the picture he’s drawing and insists they capture it in the photo as well. They later realize he was drawing a picture of his own ass. That month gets labeled “Steve Rogers and America’s Ass”.

*****

WEDNESDAY

(MAY: Stark, Tony; Ironman)

Tony wears the bottom half of his suit and his favorite Black Sabbath t-shirt. Posing in his lab, he floats a few feet off the ground, crossing his arms and giving that trademark smirk. Scattered around him are random bits of technology and a few arc reactors, with Dum-E and a steaming platter of cheeseburgers in the background.

(JUNE: Banner, Bruce; Incredible Hulk)

Bruce looks a bit rumpled. The publicity shy scientist in him detests these things, but he’s a good sport for a good cause. Surrounded by microscopes and beakers of dazzling green liquids, he allows the teeniest quirk of his lips. Hands tucked in his pockets, messy curls fall over his forehead, and Bruce just feels happy to be included.

(JANUARY: Romanoff, Natasha; Black Widow)

Natasha asks for her photo in black and white. Dressed in shadows and tulle, she is nothing more than a dark figure against a white backdrop. On her feet, are a pair of ballet slippers, their satin ribbons looped and laced around her ankles. When she arches slowly up on pointe, her arms curve gracefully over her head and there’s an ethereal stillness about the image. Natasha is amazing.

*****

THURSDAY

(DECEMBER: Odinson, Thor; Thor)

Thor wears an enthusiastic smile when he arrives - and not much else. Dressed in a cherry red speedo, black boots, and his swirling red cape, he stands with one fist on his hip and Mjolnir held lovingly in the other. When the photographer asks about his outfit, Thor proudly describes something called “fan art” he saw online of himself wearing this outfit, mentioning how many “re-blogs” it had. He thinks he might wear this outfit more often, if that’s what the Midgardians want.

(AUGUST: Barton, Clint; Hawkeye)

Clint has a cup of coffee in one hand, a pot of coffee in the other. He wears purple sweatpants and a grey tank top and he yawns every five seconds. When asked what pose he’d like to use, he pretends his hearing-aids are broken. He lays down for a nap and the photographer goes with that.

(MARCH: Barnes, James “Bucky”; Winter Soldier)

Bucky leaves his leather bondage gear, his excessive collection of knives and guns, and his murder scowl at home. Instead, he arrives in black jeans and boots, a dark blue t-shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, his tousled hair brushing the collar of his jean jacket. Perched casually on the seat of his restored Harley, he looks carefree and sweet, offering that signature smile that always sets hearts aflutter.

*****

When the final photo is taken, Bucky ambles over to where you stand with the photographer, reviewing proofs. Snuggling up beside you, he moves in for a kiss and stops in surprise.

“What’s with the lipstick?” he asks, bemused. “That’s new.”

You seem momentarily flustered by the question, stuttering something about losing your chapstick and trying new things. Bucky shrugs and dives in anyway. It makes no difference to him. Painted red or completely bare, your lips are always his favorite flavor.

*****

“They’re here!”

The box of calendars lands with a thump on the kitchen counter.

“Excellent. Are we hot?” Steve asks, his mouth full of cheesy pizza.

“I’m always hot,” Sam answers, ripping into the box. “Yesterday I saw a Buzzfeed post about how hot I am, and it said 11/10 recommend.” Yanking out the pile of calendars, he throws one to Steve. “That means more than 100% would recommend. I’m beloved.”

“Yeah, well, I’m a national treasure,” Steve argues. Reaching for a calendar, he flicks impatiently until he finds himself.

Leaving the team to laugh and bicker and poke fun of each other, you grab your bag (and another small package), heading off to search for your favorite assassin slash model.

His door is cracked when you reach it, low music in the background. Knocking lightly, you push it open.

“Hey Buck. Are you busy?”

Surrounded a chaos of metal, Bucky sits cross-legged on his bedroom floor. A tin of gun oil lays open beside him, a shredded old t-shirt in hand, while he cleans and reassembles his guns. This particular task has taken him literally all day, because Bucky Barnes has yet to meet a gun he doesn’t need.

(Seriously. He needs them. All of them. Stop questioning him, Steve.)

At your voice, an adorable smile scrunches up his face. Bouncing to his feet, he leaps gracefully from the middle of the mess and scoops you up, twirling in a circle and stealing your breath with a warm kiss.

“Hey sweetheart, what’re you doin’ here?”

“Something arrived. Thought you might like to see.”

Handing over the calendar, Bucky wipes his hands on his jeans. A nervous energy makes his fingers fumble when he riffles through the pages.

He stops abruptly at March.

“Huh,” he says, observing his portrait from every angle. Turns it sideways, upside down, pinches his lip. Squints a little. Finally, he nods. “Yeah. Okay, yeah. I look pretty great. I think? Right? I don’t know, what do you think?”

It’s funny.

Sometimes, you hold your breath when you watch at him. There are these little things. The bright excitement in his eyes maybe, or the way he scratches his jaw when he gets nervous, or the absentminded way he tucks his hair behind his ear.

It does things to your heart.

“Yeah,” you say, mesmerized by those little things, “you really do.”

Bucky looks up. Sees your face and breaks into a wide grin. He loves when you look at him like this, like he’s the only thing that matters. Like he’s your whole world. Like you love him.

It does things to his heart.

Snapping the calendar shut, he flings it on his bed. Blue eyes rake you up and down and he pokes his lip out in an exaggerated pout.

“Still think you should’ve done it too,” he says. “Bet you would’a looked so hot.”

At his comment, you reach into your bag and pull something free. Silently, you hand over a second square, this one wrapped in black paper, a silver bow taped along the edge.

“What’s this?” he asks curiously.

Shrugging, your expression stays neutral.

“Open it and see.”

Like a kid on Christmas morning, he rips the paper away.

He freezes.

Blinking rapidly, he looks up. Silver fingers delicately trace the shiny picture and he swallows hard.

“Honey, is this - did you do this for me?” he asks softly. Flipping gently through each page of this special, one-of-a-kind calendar, he shakes his head in slow disbelief.

Because there you are.

Posing in March, holding his favorite confetti cupcakes adorned with birthday candles in front of your naked breasts.

Posing in July, dressed in a vintage red, white, and blue USO uniform, white boots on your feet and crackling sparklers in your hands.

Posing again in October, wearing a slutty pumpkin dress with cut-outs revealing slivers of your sweet, sexy assets.

Each picture is incredible. Full of vivid colors and your sunny smile. No air-brushing, no fake poses, just you. Indescribable and undeniably beautiful, bursting with love.

All for him.

Bucky rubs his chest absently, feeling his heart thumping with every turn of the page. And then he reaches the last month, and there’s a strangled squeak. He stares intently at the page. Looks up at you. Back to the page. Back up at you. Closes his eyes briefly.

This is it, this is his favorite, his absolute fucking favorite thing of all time, the image instantly wiping all other thoughts from his proverbial spank bank.

There.

You.

Are.

Damn.

Tacked above you is a sprig of mistletoe, a concession to the holiday theme. But it’s the outfit that does it. Black combat boots, lacy red lingerie, deep red lipstick, and an empty thigh holster. You’re pointing one of his favorite guns at the camera and giving a sly wink.

Mind-blowingly, devastatingly, breathtakingly gorgeous.

Bucky awkwardly adjusts the rising situation in his pants, raising lust-blown eyes to yours. Licking your lips, you give him a hesitant smile.

“Do you - um, do you like them?”

It makes you panic when he says nothing. He simply stares. But then he sets the calendar carefully, reverently, aside. Slipping a hand behind your neck, he hustles you backward until you bump the door, slamming it shut. His warm mouth slants over yours, that talented tongue returning to sweep over your lips. The kiss is hot and frantic, tinged with an edge of wild excitement. When he finally breaks away, his voice is low, dark gravel in your ear.

“Listen. I’m gonna need you to get all those outfits and put on every,” he kisses your throat, “single,” he trails his lips up to your jawline, “one,” and now he’s panting in your ear, “and then I wanna take pictures of me taking everything off, before I fuck you so damn good. How’s that sound?”

Sliding a hand between his legs, your answer makes him tremble.

“Sounds like a deal.”

*****

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes x reader #beccas1kwritingchallenge #bucky fic #bucky barnes fic #bitsmasterlist #bucky barnes

[inspirationdivine]

Blank Space || Todd and Lydia

Timing: Current Parties: @itsyaboytodd @inspirationdivine Summary: Oh Anna, if only there was somebody out there who loved you... Warnings: Emotional abuse, domestic abuse, drug manipulation (leanan sidhe kiss)

There were a dozen reasons why Remmy leaving was devastating, but it made one single task easier. Lydia had spent hours dwelling on the bad, not enough considering the delay it had brought into other parts of her life. Now, it was time.  Lydia reapplied her ruby red lipstick, and pulled on her glamour, although Todd would see through it as he had the last few times they met. At the center of her chest, she was starting to feel him. Like a little bud, showing its first leaves, he would grow inside her from each meal she had from here on out, his emotions fogging up her own. Better than Chloe’s, Lydia hoped. Lydia looked at the text she’d sent him. Can you please cancel your plans for today? I need to see you. Like a good little human, he had. She climbed out of the car with a smile. “Todd! Oh gosh, you have no idea how much this means to me! I’ve just had such a difficult week, I’m so glad you’re here!” She wrapped her arms around him as if she meant it, and immediately took his hand in hers. After today, Lydia wasn’t going to let go. 

 Todd smoothed his hands over his shirt, making sure that it looked nice and neat. He wanted to look his best for Lydia-- he alway did! But, like, she’d been the only thing on his mind lately. After their last date, he’d been up all night, his mind just playing the date over and over again, his entire body practically radiating with excited energy. His mind kept going back to the kiss, to that perfect kiss. He’d been mixing for days after, the beats coming so much smoother, the melody of songs clicking together like effortlessly matched puzzle pieces. The bass, the kick, the build up to the awesome, absolute banger of a drop? His latest song, he wanted to show it to her. When he caught sight of Lydia stepping out of the car,  she looked absolutely… amazing. So fucking amazing. How did he get so lucky? “Of course! I’m glad that I could help, I’m sorry that you’ve had a bad week, that sucks.” As she took his hand, he could feel his pulse speed up, stomach flip flopping with nerves but also excitement. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

 Oh, this sweet innocent pea. Lydia smiled at his carefully chosen attire. He was completely under, wasn’t he? He could see right through her now, which was always a mildly concerning proposition, but apparently even on second viewing he was completely overwhelmed with her. She quickly raised his hand so she could press a quick kiss to the back of his palm, a seemingly casual show of affection, but really a re-enforcement of his good behaviour. “Can we just go for a walk?” Lydia asked. “I just… really want the company. I want to hear about good things. How are you?”

 Todd couldn’t take his eyes off Lydia as she took his hand, a slight shiver running down his spine as she pressed her lips to his hand. She was well, she wasn’t like other ladies he’d dated, for sure. Not only was there the whole, like, luminous skin, pointy ears, all that stuff, but she was the only one who’d ever really… liked him for who he was and supported his dreams. “We can definitely do that.” He said with an enthusiastic nod, holding out his arm for her, because he’d seen a dude do it in a movie once. It was, like, the polite thing to do for a classy lady, right? “Good things-- I posted a new song on soundcloud and it got a LOT of traction. Like, way more than I expected.” He said with a slightly flustered laugh, “And I think I might have a new gig coming up? I sent a guy my tracks and he’s gonna let me know, but I think I’ve got a shot.”

 Lydia smiled brightly as she tucked her hand in his arm, falling in step beside him as they walked seemingly randomly, but Lydia was slowly steering him towards Harris island. She listened attentively, looking up at him as he talked. All his wonderful progress would have to be dismantled, of course, the existence of DJ Dayze carefully erased from the internet over time. Right now, though, she wasn’t about to curb that enthusiasm. Let him feel inspired. It would make everything so much easier, so much more comfortable. “Oh, I’d love to hear it!” Lydia exclaimed, grinning up at him. “I’m so happy for you, you deserve so many good things.”

 Cheeks reddening, Todd walked alongside Lydia, only too happy to follow where she led him. He wasn’t super sure where they were going, but he wasn’t exactly an outdoorsy kinda guy. White Crest was cool because there were parties and bars with sick setups for him to play at, not because of the trees or whatever. “It’s honestly a ba-- really sick song,” Todd said, deciding mid-word that “a banger” wasn’t exactly how he wanted to describe his music to someone like Lydia. “Thanks! I… Yeah, I do.” He said with a sheepish grin. It felt a little weird to say, but Lydia was right. He’d worked hard for what he’d accomplished. And sure, it wasn’t much right now. But it would be.

 “You do,” Lydia agreed. “It’s just such a shame your friends can’t see it.” He would be less likely to disagree with her now, but even if he did, all it would reveal is that she had extra work to do, extra things to fix as she brought him in. His sound studio wasn’t even entirely finished, the fog had caused absurd delays in her construction, but she would figure it out. The sooner she could get him productive, the better. Of course, there was also the issue of getting Chloe back to being productive, and she hoped company and a new soul to talk to would draw her out of her… unfortunate funk. Lydia walked with him along the causeway, looking out to the ocean. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it? Sometimes I come along here just to enjoy how beautiful and peaceful it all is. Especially at sunset.”

 At Lydia’s words, Todd’s forehead wrinkled in a slight frown. It wasn’t that they didn’t see how hard he worked, right? They were just busy… But, that was kinda the same thing, wasn’t it? They were just, so into their own lives, so busy doing their own cool, awesome real adult stuff that they couldn’t see that he was doing just as serious and awesome stuff too. Swallowing, he shrugged. “I’ll show them once I get my big break.” He said with a grin and a nod. He was going to be the best DJ in Maine, no, in the entire Northeast. And then, he was going to go nationwide. He was gonna show them all that DJ Dayze was the real deal. That he was the real deal. Glancing out at the sea, Todd took in the dark waves. “It really is. I’ve never spent much time out here.” He admitted, “But it’s really really pretty.” 

 “Absolutely,” Lydia agreed with a smile, but he would never get his big break, would he? She would get hers, but oh, he wouldn’t. “Are you more of an indoors, person, then?” That was good news, if so. Lydia still didn’t quite have them exactly where she wanted, but being down to one meal was horrifically monotonous, and frankly unhealthy for both of them. She needed to be back up to a full house, so the rest of the ground work would have to happen later. All the same, outdoorsy humans were a nightmare to keep in the house. They bounced off the walls, itched to go into the garden, which also wasn’t feasible with Remmy there, and were just harder upkeep. “I’m working on a painting at the moment, repairing it, that shows the Irish coast line. When I look at it, I think of home.”

 With a rueful smile, Todd nodded. “Yeah, I’ve always liked chilling at home or like, going to movies or clubs than the outdoors. Like, outdoor sets are fun! But, I’ve never really been a great outdoors kinda dude, you know? I think it’s super pretty though!” He said quickly, just in case Lydia was like, a hiking kind of girl. He didn’t wanna make it sound like he’d hate it if she wanted to go spend the weekend in the outdoors or something. “Oh, that’s really cool.” He said, genuinely interested by that. He didn’t know much about Lydia, where she was from, or how long she’d lived in White Crest. “Have you lived here all your life? Or uh, are you from Ireland?”

 “Oh, I get it. My brother is like that. Rather at a nightclub than a forest. Which I totally understand, I love both, the balance. But in my mind, Nature is the original artist, and we can only ever aspire to be as great as her.” Lydia paused, thinking of Sammy’s blood on the walls, how her first thought when his body had dropped to the floor was that the blood spatters had looked like a bouquet. She smiled, shaking away the thought. He had become irrelevant, Todd was the human that mattered now. “Sorry, I hardly meant to wax lyrical like that.” She wrapped her arm around his waist, holding him close. “I grew up in Argentina,” Lydia said. “And Peru. I’ve lived in Northern America most of my life, but my family has a special connection to Ireland. One way or another, it is always home. Then, I’ve only been here in White Crest for a year….Hey, my place isn’t far from here,” She started, as if it was an errant thought, rather than a carefully planned trap. “Do you want to come over for a bit?”

 At the mention of a brother, Todd realized that he didn’t even realize that Lydia had siblings. He’d talked about his own siblings, with their careers working for his father, their lives as just three more cogs in the corporate machine. But, had he really never asked her about her own family? “For sure, for sure. I kinda think of music the same way? Like, there are so many cool sounds in nature. There’s music all around you, as long as you listen for it.” He said with a nod. As she apologized, he shook his head energetically. “No, no, I like hearing you talk about art.” He said with a grin. She’d always listened to him, he wanted to show her that he cared too. Because he did, even if he didn’t super get it. “Oh forre-- really? My family’s from Brazil, actually! I grew up in Boston, but I’ve been a couple times. Never been to Peru, though.” At her suggestion, Todd blinked, startled. She was inviting her back to hers? She’d never done that before. “Uh… Yeah! Yeah, that’d be really cool.” He said with a grin. 

 “I couldn’t agree more. The most joyous sounds of spring are the birds returning, in autumn, the gentle rustling of leaves underfoot.” Lydia laughed. “But those are perhaps not the noises that inspire your music.” Lydia pressed herself closer against his side, lighting up with a false excitement at his agreement. “Wonderful. You can tell me about your trips to Brazil as you go. I’ve been to Brasilia, but nowhere else, which is a horrific shame considering how much the country has to offer.” Lydia said, slowly ambling them along to her home. “I feel so much better just for having you with me, you know? You’re so… You make my life so much more vibrant. You fulfill part of me.” Specifically, her stomach, but she wasn’t about to mention that, not yet. This was all part of the game. First, she would express something loving, intense, what they wanted to hear, and then… Lydia shook her head, smiling in a self deprecating manner, looking like she might blush. “Sorry. I must sound so silly.” Let them tell you how much they wanted to hear it. Make it all seem more real, like you were as swept up by it all as they were.

 Letting out a small laugh, Todd nodded. “Yeah, not quite the sounds I go after. But, like, you get what I mean.” He grinned as they continued to walk, arm in arm through the woods. The feeling of her body pressed against him sent his heartbeat racing. God, Lydia was… something else. Just being around her, he didn’t even know how to describe how she made him feel. It was like she was really seeing him, for who he was. “Brasilia, I’ve never been there. My family, we’re from São Paolo, so that’s usually where we went. I’ve been to Rio a few times too, mostly for Carnival with my cousins. Carnival is such a cool time.” He said, thinking back to the colorful costumes and amazing, wild nights he’d had. At her words, Todd felt the feeling in his chest swell, warmth washing over him. “No, no, it’s not silly at all. I, uh… I feel the same way. About you.” He said, a touch bashful. 

 “That sounds amazing,” Lydia said, leaning into him as she slowly meandered back to her home. Nearly at the end post. “I can only imagine. I mean, I know you’re the party type, so I can only imagine how much you loved Carnival.” Not that there would be any raves where they were going. He blushed, warming up under her words. Lydia’s smile wasn’t as bashful of his, but rather like someone who had drawn the perfect hand in poker, or someone who wanted you to believe they had. “I’m ever so glad to hear that,” she said, tracing small circles on the back of his hand with her thumb. “We’re here,” she breathed, walking them into the driveway of her mansion. She pulled out her keys, waving to O as she unlocked the door. “Well? What do you think?”

 “It was just so awesome, being in the middle of it all. We were there for a week and it was the craziest thing I’ve ever done. I want to go again someday. It’s just such a cool time, cuz like, the entire city is just one massive party.” Todd said, thinking back to the crazy times he’d had in Rio. It had been so much fun, partying with his cousins, just bouncing from street party to party that spilled across the city. He’d loved every second of it. As they walked up to the massive house, Todd blinked in surprise. Not that he didn’t expect a mansion-- she had a private driver who picked him up whenever they went places, like, he didn’t not expect a mansion. But, seeing it for real? That was a different story. “Wow. This place is huge. It’s uh,” He nodded, still startled by the house. “It’s amazing. Really really pretty.” He said, not really knowing how else to describe the giant home. “You live here all by yourself? That sounds… kinda lonely.”

 Everything was pristine. Lydia wanted it to be. A new start, for him and her both, was just what she needed to get her household under control. A Magritte hung on the wall with a dark wood polished to perfection. There was no evidence in the hall of that dreadful attack, the Bannister and door frame and floor all following and new. Upstairs, she already had new clothes in the dresser, new sheets on the bed. Sammy Metz was all but replaced. "You're ever so kind. I made this place somewhere I wanted to live and show off." She took him by the hand, tugging him into the living room so he could see the large French windows into her small garden. "No, not entirely by myself. Why, are you offering to keep me company?" Lydia murmured, wrapping her arms around his waist, smiling up at him. Even if he wanted to pull away, he couldn't. "You could belong here, you know, here with me. If that's what you want."

 Still taking in the massive house, the art, the wooden banisters, Todd was in absolute awe. There was just something so distinctly Lydia about this place. It was elegant and pretty and polished in all the same ways she was. “Makes sense, it really looks like it. Like, that’s… a really cool painting. I feel like I’ve seen it in a museum somewhere.” He said, nodding to the painting on the wall. At her question, Todd felt his cheeks redden and he waved his hands apologetically, “I, uh, that’s not what I was getting at-- it’s just, it’s like this huge house, you know? It seems like it’d be really lonely to be in, that’s all.” He said, trying not to be too forward about the situation. But, Lydia didn’t seem to mind? At least, that’s not how it seemed, with her holding him tight and staring up at him. Swallowing, he looked at her, “Uh… are you sure? I mean, I don’t want to get in the way or anything.”

 “You probably have. I was loaning it out to a museum for an exhibition for the last few years,” Lydia replied, grinning up to him. Why were all humans in their twenties so uncultured? Why couldn’t he name even that it was a Magritte? It was truly appalling that the best company in her home was a cat. He blushed, with every beat of his heart stepping closer into her trap. Without Remmy here, it was lonely, but Todd would hardly alleviate that, would he? “I’m sure. Are you? It has to be your choice. I don’t want to pressure you into anything.” The gesture was symbolic more than anything else, but the rituals of the old ways still needed to be followed. He had to say yes, even if her magic was part of the reason. She had him so thoroughly wrapped around her finger that he would have said yes, even without the kiss, but he still had to say it.

 “Seriously? Wow, that’s ins--” Todd caught himself, he didn’t want to sound like a total loser, “Incredible. Like, really. That’s so cool that you have something like this. But, uh, I guess it makes sense, given your work.” He nodded, trying to hide how just out of his depth he was. He knew that Lydia worked with art, restoring them, but the specifics of it were all a bit of a mystery to him. As she continued to talk, Todd rubbed the back of his neck, trying to hide how her words made him feel. She was sure, she wanted him here. She knew how hard he worked for his music, she appreciated him. And she… wanted him. It felt nice, being wanted. “I, uh… If you’re sure, I’d like that. I’d like to, uh, live here with you. Together.” He said.

 Lydia could not stand this small talk for one second longer. His talents far outweighed how interesting he was. She just smiled appreciatively, tucking her hair behind her should. “I like owning pretty things.” She was so ready to pull away from him to wash the human grime off her skin, and then when he spoke she had to stop herself stamping her feet in annoyance. I’d like and I will were just ever so grammatically too far apart. In spirit, they were the same. She just needed a little more, to ensnare him in her little red promise threads. Lydia pressed herself a little closer, grinning so much it hurt her cheeks, as if he had made her whole week. “Promise me you won’t leave me?” She murmured into his ear, sliding one hand around the back of his neck.

 The way she was looking up at him, the way that she just seemed to see him, all of him, and care? Todd was smitten. He… wow, he really, really liked her. More than any other girl he’d dated, because she wasn’t like the other girls. There was more to her and he wanted to know it all. She cared so much about what he did, had supported him so much, and he wanted to be able to do the same for her. At her question, as she wrapped her hand around him, he could feel the warmth of her pressed against him. “I… I’d never leave you. Never.” He said, shaking his head at the idea. “I promise, I’ll be here for you.” He said, because it was true. In all the ways she’d been there for him, he wanted to be there for Lydia. 

 “Oh Todd…” Lydia smirked, running her fingers through a lock of his hair. “That was far too easy.” She dropped back down to her heels and stepped away, smoothing down her clothes. She chuckled, giddy on a successful hunt. It was almost good enough to heal the ache in her chest. Her face shifted, her affection mask dropped to one of indifference to him and pride in herself. It was a delicious feeling. “But then you never were the brightest spark. Chloe!” She called up the stairs, pursing her lips as Chloe slunk into view, staring at Todd with a sinking look of understanding. “Meet Todd. He’s the one the sound production studio is for.”

 “Easy..?” Todd echoed, not sure what was going even as Lydia pulled away. What did she mean by that? What was going on? His eyebrows pinched together as he watched the way her face shifted, into an expression he’d never seen before. It was a completely different side of her. What? “Brightest spark-- I don’t understand. Who?” Head spinning in confusion, he looked up to where Lydia was speaking and saw a girl emerge from one of the doors, her face falling as she stared at him. It almost looked like she was… sad? Sad for him? What? “Sound production studio? What’s… what’s going on, Lydia?” He asked as he stared back and forth from the two women. “Who’s that?”

 “How can I put this succinctly? Todd, you aren’t my dinner date, you’re my dinner,” Lydia gestured for Chloe to come downstairs. “Come on now, you can see I’m not human.” She gestured at her ears and her wings. “You’ve been able to see that for a while, there’s no denying it.” Since their first kiss, after all. “Chloe will take you through the details, I’m far too busy for all that, but now that you’ve promised to stay here, you won’t get to leave. I’ve already even picked out your new clothes.” She pat his cheek with a bright smile. “Smile, Todd. This is an honour. An honour where your brain and body collapses under my influence until I have consumed every part of your spirit in a few short years, but an honour nonetheless. You were the most talented of all the humans I hunted these last few months.” Lydia wondered what Remmy might have said, had they seen this. Would it have horrified them more or less than the basement, she wondered idly. She shoved the thought away before it could sour her mood further. “Chloe, darling, now.” She glared at the other woman, before looking back at Todd. “Of course, I expect your complete obedience, but don’t worry. I will reward good behaviour with the approval you desperately crave. Chloe! Speaking of, Todd, give me your phone, and any other communication devices you have on you. Now, please.” She held out her hand with an expectant smile.

 Chloe stood frozen at the top of the stairs, staring down at the boy in the hall. He looked even younger than Sammy had, but she didn’t know if that was because he was, or because he looked so lost. No matter how much she willed herself to move, she couldn’t quite do it. Anneliese had done it for her, and for Sammy. She’d done it without flinching, with a soft smile and a kind hand as she explained in her soft voice the hell they had found themselves in. Chloe had resented her for it for months, and Anneliese had just smiled and accepted that as she smiled and accepted everything else. Like Anneliese had been playing the good jailor to Lydia’s bad jailor. Even as their friendship had grown, it had taken Chloe years to realise that that gentle warm flame had to be carefully cultivated and protected from every icy gust and flaring temper. Sammy hadn’t gotten angry at Anneliese at all, but he hadn’t processed anything for a week, until one night he’d collapsed in Anneliese’s arms in roaring sobs. She’d been strong as a willow tree then, and had held him as long as he needed. But now there was no Anneliese. There was no Sammy. Chloe would have to do this for Todd. She didn’t know if she could. Chloe swallowed as Lydia barked her name, and slowly forced herself down the stairs. She didn’t even look at Lydia, watching Todd to work out what he needed. Praying she could provide whatever that would be. 

 Still frozen in place, Todd stared at Lydia, not able to comprehend just what she was saying. Dinner… She was… He-- what? “What do you mean I can’t leave, I can just,” He said, starting to turn towards the door. But, even as he took the first few steps towards the door, he felt his stomach start to twist and turn. It started out as discomfort before shifting into full on pain as he tried to put his hand on the doorknob. His hand felt like needles, burning hot and searing, were being pushed into his skin as he gripped the door and he let out a cry before pulling his hand away. Looking down at his hand, Todd stared. It looked fine, there was nothing wrong with it. But, his stomach continued to writhe and the pain continued to grow and grow until he was dizzy from it all. Shaking his head, he reeled away from the door. “What’s… what did you do to me?” He asked Lydia, not understanding what was going on. “My phone? I… Why?” He asked.

 Lydia rolled her eyes, pursing her lips as he made to move for the door. She didn’t move, she didn’t have to, as the invisible chains tying him to this house made themselves ever so clear. Humans were so repetitive, really. Every hunt was a carefully choreographed dance, and Lydia always knew what her prey’s next step would be. “I made you mine. Isn’t that what you wanted?” Her smile was sharp and icy, lips closed, so that he knew her patience was wearing thin. “Because you won’t need it anymore. God, you are slow. I don’t have all day, you really don’t want to provoke my ire.” Lydia clicked her fingers impatiently, before opening her hand for his phone again. 

 God, she had faced so much of Lydia’s rage and grief recently. Was it terrible to be the tiniest grateful there would be someone else to share it with her? It was, Chloe decided immediately, looking at the confusion and hurt in his eyes. Lydia had been hunting him for so long, now. “Todd, please- please just give it to her.” Chloe hated saying it, the words sickening her mouth. It felt like a betrayal. But Chloe hadn’t insisted the Sammy let go of his plans with Ariana, and- her stomach lurched. “Please.” Her voice cracked. 

 “Made me yours?” Todd shook his head, clutching at his stomach. He felt sick, he felt like his body was going to collapse in on himself as he tried to fight through the feeling. She didn’t, she didn’t control him. He wasn’t hers. Not like that. He cared about her, he-- God, he thought he loved her. But this, it wasn’t love. It was all an act. “You don’t… I thought you cared about me.” He said, bitterness and fear leaking into his voice. “My friends, they’ll know something’s up if you take my phone. They’ll figure it out.” Todd said, pleading. Hoping that it would work. He could only hope that it was true. But, would any of his friends notice? Would any of them care?

 Looking at the other woman, he stared at her with wide eyes. “Chloe-- who are you? Why are you listening her?” He asked, though a creeping feeling grew in his stomach, overwhelming the sense of pain. The feeling was dread, was fear. Fear that she was exactly like him. Trapped. A hostage. A prisoner. 

 How many people had Anneliese done this for? Six, seven humans, who had walked in here looking for love, attention, fame, and had not walked out ever again. Todd looked at her with a slow realisation that cracked open Chloe’s heart and splintered her soul. How Anneliese had done this more than once was beyond her. She tried to smile, but it felt more like a gash across her lips. “It’s o- I’ll help you, okay? I’ll explain everything.” But she didn’t dare go closer, not while Lydia glared daggers at him. When it came to her own instincts and the magical desire to please Lydia, the latter would always win. 

 Lydia’s voice had no such kindness in them. “I think you have excessive faith in your friends. You certainly have excessive faith in my patience. You’ve barely been here five minutes, and you’re already a disappointment. I really expected better of you, Todd.” He’d succumb. They all did, in the end. And once he got a taste of how good obeying could be, she wouldn’t have to deal with this again. Especially once he succumbed to the promises she would ask him to make. 

 Eyes darting between Chloe and Lydia, Todd felt the fear grow and claw in the pit of his stomach. Chloe was going to help him? Could he even trust her? But, he didn’t see how he had any choice in the matter, not anymore. Looking back at the door, the motion sent a fresh wave pain shooting through his body and Todd let out a whimper of pain. He did his best to hide the way it hurt, the way all of this hurt. Not just on a physical level but… he’d thought that Lydia had cared about him. He thought she’d loved him. How had this happened? With a reluctant expression on his face, Todd pulled his phone out of his pocket and handed it to Lydia. “That’s all I have. I don’t… Please. Why are you doing this?” He asked, still trying to wrap his head around it all. 

 “There. Oh, Todd, you’ve made me ever so happy. I knew you would do the right thing.” Lydia pulled a face at his lock screen before turning the phone off altogether. Then she looked up at him and smiled, stretching on her toes to kiss his cheek, knowing with a precise cruelty how much he would crave her acceptance. It was like giving a starving man a Christmas roast. “Because I need to eat. There are worse places to be. Honestly, Todd, you would have inevitably been eaten by a zombie or something in the next few years anyway, torn limb from limb in some terribly disturbing way. Here, you get all your own space, your own sound production studio, you’ll spend the rest of your short life in the lap of luxury, if you behave.” Lydia gestured Chloe over, who paused just short of putting a hand on Todd’s shoulder. “I’m not particularly interested in answering all your questions or dealing with… this, so I am leaving you in Chloe’s hands. I still have to get the singer, and then deal with your social media presences. It is ever such an inconvenience how much all modern artists self-advertise these days.” Lydia looked to Chloe sharply. “Sammy’s old bed is already made up. Show Todd around, and make sure that by the time I’m back, he is ready to make the rest of his promises. I don’t want to deal with this behaviour again, am I understood? You’ll be good for me, won’t you, Todd?”

 The relief, the strange easing sense of calm that washed over him at her words, Todd couldn’t understand it. But, it felt so good, knowing that she was happy with him. He wanted her to be happy, that was… no, it wasn’t all he wanted. He wanted to leave this place, he wanted to run away as fast as he could. But, it felt so good, so right, knowing that he’d done well by Lydia. It just didn’t make sense, it didn’t. He hated this, but he loved her, hated what she’d done, but couldn’t help the way he just wanted to please her. What was happening? Barely able to focus on her words, Todd nodded dumbly, still in a state of shock. What was she talking about? Need to eat? Zombies? What? No, those things were just like… horror movie gimmicks. They weren’t real. But, her question jolted him out of his daze and he blinked. “I… I want to.” He said because, as much as it pained him to admit it, the words were the truth. Even though every inch of him screamed no, he still wanted to be good for her, to make Lydia happy. Why? Why was this happening?

 “That’s what I wanted to hear,” Lydia pat his cheek twice, with another rewarding smile. Beyond that, this wasn’t her problem right now. She pulled out her own phone, texting her next treat as she turned away. 

 He looked like someone had wacked the back of his head with a pan. What had Anneliese even said to her, the first time? Had she made her a cup of coffee? Hot cocoa? Had she shown Chloe the shared upstairs bedroom, their own private bathroom and kitchenette area? Chloe remembered learning about these things, but it was all stilted, as torn up as she had been when she’d realised her escape had been impossible. The bed had been good; Chloe had just sank into the mattress and pulled the duvet over her own head until the world had melted away in her own tears. Was that- was that what Todd needed right now? She tried touching his shoulder, as if that might snap him out of his daze, and opened her mouth only to close it, the words dying in her mouth. Lydia seemed unperturbed by her flustered silence, switching out her coat for a more distinguished, autumnal look. Like a whirlwind, Lydia was back out of the door, leaving them both in the synthetic cold of her absence. “We’re not supposed to linger in the hallway.” Even to Chloe, she sounded hollow. 

 The moment Lydia had left, Todd had assumed he would feel some kind of relief. That he would feel glad that she was gone. But, instead, the same kind of aching yearning that had filled him since that date, when she’d pressed her lips to his and everything had changed. Bitterly, he shook his head, running his hands through his hair. “Why’s this happening to me? I... I thought she cared about me.” He muttered, tears starting to prickle at the corner of his eyes. Todd swiped at his face with the back of his hand. He didn’t want to cry, he didn’t want to just stand here and cry in front of a total stranger. Sucking in a deep breath, he nodded. “Yeah, sure.” He said, “I’m sorry.” Todd mumbled, miserably. He wasn’t sure why he was apologizing, only that it felt like the right thing to say. After all, she was stuck here too, right? 

 “It’s not your fault. It’s not-” Chloe choked on her own words, because how could she tell him right now that Lydia did? In her own monstrous way, she cared, because she felt what they felt. She would hear their dying thoughts, strip them of all their privacy, and perhaps that was the only reason she cared, but she did. She chose the victims she could most tolerate being around, and that was as much as Lydia could care for any human. But it was no reassurance that the monster in the would destroy them with affection. “Don’t apologise to me. You’re going to be doing it so often anyway.” She was still rooted to the spot. “Uh, shit. Um. I’ll, uh, I can show you the bedroom? We can, uh, talk or you can have some time. We have to talk, before she gets back, but if you need a minute- I-” How had Anneliese done this? Chloe ran her hand through her hair. “Shit. Let’s go upstairs.”

 Feeling numb, Todd nodded at the woman’s words. “I think… I think I need a minute. But, thanks. Chloe, right?” He asked with a weak grin. He didn’t know how she’d wound up in this situation too, or even why he was here. Lydia’s words, they just confused him more and more. But, his mind was too much of a mess for him to process anything else. He needed to be alone and just get a handle on what was going on. If he even could. Following her up the stairs, he entered one of the bedrooms. The room was clean, the bed neatly made, clothes hanging in the closet. It was cold and clean and completely removed of any sort of personality. Sinking onto the bed, Todd dropped his head into his hands, his shoulders shaking as the fear finally overtook him. A strangled cry of anguish worked its way free from his throat and he shook his head violently from side to side. No, no, no, no, no.

 This morning, he’d woken up, thinking that it was just any other ordinary day. And now? He was a prisoner. 

#domestic abuse tw #emotional abuse tw #para #chatzy #todd #drug manipulation tw

[freewheelshippin]

FIC: “What Do I Call You?”

There was something so honest about how she hyped the crowd, leaned so forward she seemed like she might leap into a crowdwalk, pointing at her ear until the whole crowd bellowed in their own guttoral harmony. And she smiled so much at her crewmates -- Ranmaru realized he was smiling, too, while she played guitar and accompanied the others’ solos, only breaking from her deep sway with the music to look at them with brightness and joy in her eyes. 

In those moments, Ranmaru understood something he hadn’t before, but it also made him realize that the hunger in him wasn’t being sated so much as it was deepening. 

So! I had some fun writing for the roleswap AU, where I’m the punk rock idol and Ranmaru’s the freelance artist getting some juice from all the love and music.

Not much by ways of content warnings -- lots of eating, a fair amount of alcohol, too, and you know, we utter the word ‘fuck’ a few times.  

Ranmaru swore as he dropped the case on his toe. He could tell immediately that this was one of those jammed toes that would hurt for days from the bruising, especially when he still had half of the city to cross before he could get back home. And what was home? His shithole apartment and limping around while he went on his rounds for the local cats? 

At least the train was empty enough he could sit alone, even comfortably with all his equipment. He was still cross that the live house didn’t have it themselves. Weren’t they professionals? Stupid. The show had sucked, too, with the band spending more time fucking around then putting on the damn show they were paid for, that their fans came out to see, that Ranmaru had put such care into getting the tech just right to enhance. And that one jackass trying to throw hands with anyone in the crowd. Nobody on staff did a fucking thing to kick him out until Ranmaru dragged him out himself, and now he had a black eye and the stink of shitty beer and stale cigarette smoke hanging on him to show for it.

Thirty minutes ‘til his stop. He could listen to some music to smooth over this shitty...everything. He slipped his headphones on, ready to mute the rest of the world and stop anyone from entering his. 

Reiji (12:42 AM) : Iiiiiiiiiit’s dropped!!!!!

What, your balls, Ranmaru thought ruefully to himself, unconsciously clicking his tongue in annoyance. He moved his finger to swipe and mute him for … a week, maybe, from how shitty he was feeling right now, but Reiji was too fast. The link appeared, and Ranmaru hit it, if only to have something concrete to be annoyed with him for. 

It was a preview for a new PV. That’s right. It was technically tomorrow already, the day this content was due, but this was still early. Reiji must have found a leak. Lucky he was such an otaku, Ranmaru never had to go hunting for sketchy files or talk with weirdos he knew he wouldn’t be able to level with outside of the crowd. There was a long windup before the music even started playing, the visuals building dramatic lighting and obscuring anything but their silhouettes, but there was the low fuzz of an amp before it all hit at once. 

Ranmaru didn’t want to admit that his eyes darted right to that flash of turquoise as the lights came up in the PV, because it would mean that he might’ve smiled at just the sight of her. No, it had to be the sound. That clean, driving guitar, that strong bass, it felt like Deep Purple and Iron Maiden, but pushed to be danceable and idol-friendly with synth and a digital drumkit beat Ranmaru could vaguely recognize parts of.  

His toe and face didn’t stop hurting and body didn’t stop aching, but he stopped feeling so mad about it for the minute he watched and listened. There was professional polish there he’d missed seeing at the shitshow that was tonight’s gig, but there was still that rawness there of a good, irreplaceable concert. Something less precise than other idol groups’ practiced, saccharine perfection, but Ranmaru found it more welcoming than any other group he’d seen or worked with. 

The camera cut to a focus shot. Her hair was as bright as ever, styled like she were one of those princely girls from anime, just somehow made real, and she turned to look right at him-- 

Reiji (12:44 AM) : Ranran~~ how are you liking your girlfriend in this one :3c 

Ranmaru actually growled a little. He only realized he had been smiling because of how intensely he frowned at that bastard, barging into his texts --  

Ranmaru (12:44 AM): shut the fuck up and let me watch it. don’t call her that   

Reiji (12:44 AM): Isn’t she doing all the things you like??? 

Reiji (12:45 AM): So handsome! So rock! So passionate!

Reiji (12:45 AM): Feels tailor made for you ;o 

Ranmaru (12:45 AM): I told you to shut the fuck up. go text natsuki if you have to annoy someone

Reiji (12:46 AM): Aww Ranran did the show go bad? :(

Reiji (12:46 AM): But I already did, you know! And I’ve already gotten twice as many sparkly sticker replies than texts you’ve sent me in the past week!!! 

(He had to admit he laughed a little at that. Reiji was probably getting another onslaught as he was typing, his own push notifications as clogged as he was making Ranmaru’s.) 

Ranmaru (12:47 AM): I’m muting notifs since you won’t learn how to fucking shut up 

Reiji (12:47 AM): ohhhh she’s getting ranran’s full attention~! You must really like this preview, huh? I guess it’s true love 

Ranmaru (12:48 AM): WILL YOU SHUT UP ALREADY   

Reiji (12:48 AM): You’re right, I should, I should be listening for wedding bells! 

Ranmaru (12:48 AM): go make out with your gacha girlfriend body pillow and leave me alone 

Ranmaru (12:49 AM): hypocrite 

He finally muted all his notifications. An hour should be enough to ride it out, he thought as he settled a little into the hard plastic of the seat, restarting the video. The anger from the past couple hours melted away as he watched, uninterrupted, and replayed it with eyes closed as the sound flowed in through his headphones and released the tension in his body bit by bit. 

--- 

The hour ran out when Ranmaru was squatting over an especially runty kitten, eating noisily while the others watched from a couple feet away. Why stray cats could understand him better than anyone else when he said to piss off, he’d never know. He swiped around to turn his notifications back off for the rest of the night before pocketing his phone again. 

“...Oi. Slow down.” He pulled the plate of food away from the kitten. It shook with hiccups as it watched carefully, almost fearfully, before it pounced back onto the food, gobbling it down like it was going to be its last meal. Ranmaru sighed but couldn’t blame the little thing. He dumped out the last of the food, gave the rest of the cats one last look as he stood up to walk away, and he heard the frenzied scratch of their claws against the pavement as they swarmed the plates of food. 

 Maybe it wasn’t so much they understood him as he understood them. To hunger like that, both literally and for something less physical but just as carnal.  

He plugged his headphones back in, listening to the leaked preview a few more times on his way back to the apartment. 

--

He liked this group to begin with mostly because of her. She dressed, talked, and acted more like someone from a band than an idol, and something about that felt weirdly familiar and good. The rest of the group were more unique than a lot of other idols -- you’d expect that from a unit made up of a pack of ragtag international recruits, sure, but it was refreshing how they’d made everything about their presence wholly their own. 

Hers just made the most sense to him. The brashness, the way she talked about music, the way she performed, it all felt like someone who was chasing and understood the same things he did. She even said her music was about giving people power in an interview Reiji’d dug up for him. 

“Beyond language, or the way words reach people,” she’d said in decent but definitely non-native Japanese; she’d grown up some in Okinawa while her family lived on the military base, but mostly shuttled between America and Bangkok before getting recruited by chance here. “I want to give everyone a home that makes them feel strong through my music.” 

He wondered, dimly, as he took a hot shower and stared down at his swollen red toe, if he felt drawn to the group because he wanted that for himself, or because it reminded him why he kept picking up jobs that made him as angry as tonight’s did. 

He went to bed that night with an ice pack balanced on his swollen eye, the frustration more or less passed as he listened to the classic bands that new song reminded him of. 

--- 

He woke up to his phone buzzing, the hold on push notifications finally expired, and he murmured in bewilderment at just how many there were. Not just from Reiji, but Natsuki, too. 

Rather than try and parse whatever the hell happened while he was asleep, Ranmaru just went into the group chat well after he’d gotten himself breakfast. 

Ranmaru (9:28 AM): what the hell happened last night that you had to blow up my phone 

Natsuki (9:30 AM): Maru-chan-senpai! Ah! You’re alive!!!! 

Ranmaru (9:31 AM): I just went to bed is all 

(“Why the hell are you calling me ‘senpai’?” Ranmaru had asked him, and Natsuki had looked at him with those big dopey eyes and earnestly said since he’d been a fan longer, he was naturally Natsuki’s senpai, and any protest Ranmaru made never stuck.) 

Reiji supplied a link without any fanfare, introduction, or goofy dramatics, which almost startled Ranmaru. 

Notice (posted by Ootori Eiichi x/xx/xx): 

We are currently seeking an emergency replacement sound/stage technician for performances at the following dates and locations. Inquire immediately. [PAID] 

Ranmaru stared at the listing, barely processing the lurch in his stomach that came from just reading it. It was for them. That act. The debut mini-tour for that new single. It’d take rearranging his sound editing queue and massaging some deadlines, but he could feasibly make all of those dates and times.

He thought for a moment of doing that sound check, and seeing for himself the electric energy of that live. Of working with that group whose respect for their audience he personally felt, of watching her prepare, having to talk directly to her as she tuned her guitar....

There was the very real possibility that it’d prove everything he believed about them - about her, really, that ethos he was drawn to - was just smoke and mirrors, too. 

Natsuki (9:35 AM): Can you do it, Maru-chan-senpai? 

Reiji (9:36 AM): Ranran, you have to do it. 

Ranmaru (9:36 AM): this is just a listing, just because I ask doesn’t mean it’ll go through 

There was a long pause, where everyone went on and off typing, never actually saying anything, and he frowned. 

Ranmaru (9:40 AM): can you all just fucking say what you’re thinking already 

Natsuki (9:42 AM): You really love their magic and energy, I just wanted to say I hope you do it and get it because your heart wants it! 

Reiji (9:45 AM): Yes, Nacchan, you said it! Ranran, I’ll give you all the free bento you need to keep your tummy full to go do this! 

Ranmaru (9:45 AM): don’t fucking do that, reiji, you’ll just piss of your sister. I’ll buy them myself

Ranmaru (9:45 AM): assuming I even do this 

Reiji (9:46 AM): I really think you should. 

Reiji (9:46 AM): Not because we want the insider scoop. But because when’s the last time you had fun at a live you worked? 

Ranmaru could curse Reiji where he stood. Whenever he stopped fucking around and got to his point, it was always a good one. 

---

He got the job, somehow, after a little emailing back-and-forth and negotiating the contract. Now he was on a train to Yokohama for the first gig, his case packed full, his backpack stuffed with supplies for a week. Comping travel, hotel, and meals was enough to take the job, even if it paid like ass, but it didn’t. The contract was actually pretty decent. They -- or, well, at least that Ootori guy -- were upfront that he’d be worked hard, the hours were going to be long, and there wasn’t going to be much room for rest or leisure. But the pay was good. Enough that if he had a dryspell of jobs afterwards, he’d be okay for longer than usual. 

It was worth it for other reasons, though, he thought to himself, stuffing spare merch he’d gotten in blindbags (and a couple other last-minute buys he didn’t tell the others about) into a bottom corner of his suitcase. None of it was of her, none of it for him. Something felt unprofessional spending this job acting like a fan, but at least there wasn’t any harm grabbing some signatures for friends who never made it to meet-and-greets. 

The single was out properly, now, and so was the PV. There was a section of it he especially liked and had gotten into the habit of watching on train rides, where she broke out of the dance routine to put her arms around her teammates, grin a dumb grin, and kick her legs high. It cut to a different shot of the group in different costumes but perfect sync, and when it cut back to that first shot, she stumbled and fell right on her ass, dragging the others down with her. Still grinning stupidly, and singing through it all. 

She didn’t take many vocal solos. She only had one line in this song to herself, and she was singing with the whole group for this shot. He read in an interview she wasn’t happy with the tone quality of her voice yet -- it needed to be richer, and she still needed plenty of training before it reached what her teammates and audience deserved. 

Ranmaru told himself, as the train was minutes away from the station, that this had to be the last time he watched this video and listened to the song like this. At least for the duration of this job. Every time he watched that shot, as she kept singing and the rest of the group tumbled down with her with the same dumb grin she wore, he knew in his gut the voice she sang in must’ve sounded like the soul of rock. Even if that gesture were directed and performed, there was still something genuine there that reminded him of those moments at concerts that convinced him to walk the path he did. 

Maybe he’d get to see it live. Maybe he wouldn’t. But he had to stop imagining it. She - this whole group, rather - was about to become real, and whether or not everything he imagined would turn out to just be something he made up to deal with his shit, he had a job to do. 

------------------------------------

He had a chance to leave his clothes and belongings in the hotel before heading to the live house. Ranmaru was unsure why this Ootori guy had picked him. He didn’t have an exactly long resume with idol shows, but then again, this was a group that debuted without any typical idol sound. There wasn’t any gimmick to them (Ranmaru wouldn’t call being made up of foreigners much of a gimmick when it came to the music), and they weren’t afraid of reaching into all sorts of genres he more typically worked with. 

Right as he got to the live house, his phone rumbled with back-to-back notifications. 

Reiji (5:48 PM): Ranran~!!! Ganbarimachochho from us! 

Ranmaru wouldn’t deign the attached selfie with a response right now (he was about to work, after all), but he felt himself suppressing a smile. Reiji was sticking his tongue out and making a victory sign, Natsuki further in the background, half-buried in stuffed animals and doing the same. They were going to be streaming the event for special-tier fanclub members like REIJI, which Ranmaru had always harangued him for. If he was a fan, wasn’t it enough to just cheer their hearts out live, enjoy their music, buy a CD and shirt, and feel the energy they had to give that way? 

(He still pored over the behind-the-scenes and advance material Reiji forwarded to him and Natsuki regardless. Sometimes he translated the English from their social media accounts, even. It was satisfying, as stupid as it felt sometimes, to do those little things in between the real shows.) 

He’d never been to the live house before, but it had the same vibes as so many others he’d been to. He found the back entrance effortlessly, where a man with glasses almost took him by surprise. 

“Kurosaki?” he asked. His gaze felt just as intense as all the other communication they’d had over e-mail. 

“Ootori,” he grunted back. 

“You’re early,” Eiichi replied, grinning at Ranmaru. Not that it surprised him in the slightest, but it made him look less approachable and instead even more intense. “Good. I like that in a recruit.” 

Ranmaru gritted his teeth quietly. This guy was going to be an absolute bastard, he could feel it, but at least he seemed like he knew how to run a show. “Don’t say that like I joined your agency. Tell me where the group’s at with setup, and I’ll get started.” 

 Eiichi’s eyes glinted from behind his glasses. He looked too satisfied with himself for Ranmaru’s taste. “I liked how you didn’t beat around the bush when you reached out for the job, and it’s good to see you hold to it. They’re rehearsing in the space, but we still have equipment to unload and cues to sync. You read the notes I sent you, I trust.” 

“All forty fuckin’ pages of it.” Ranmaru left out that he’d actually found it pretty impressive, appreciating the thoroughness and ambition of the show for a smaller group and venue. “Are we going to stand around shooting the shit or are we going to get started working on them?” 

Eiichi laughed at that. Ranmaru wasn’t sure if it pissed him off or made him feel eager to get to work. 

“This way,” he said, showing him to a van stuffed full of equipment. 

------ 

Ranmaru went straight to the live house staff to start doing his work. The master controls were kept in a little room that overlooked the stage. His gut flipped when he first saw them all, rehearsing some specific-looking choreography that needed to adjust to a new stage.  He wasn’t about to let that interrupt work. This was just like any other job, except he liked the performers a whole lot more, and things progressed like any other job. Until she looked dead at him from the stage, calling out. 

“Heeeeey,” she said. “Scuse me, are you the new tech guy?” 

“Yeah.” Ranmaru forced the feeling rising in his throat back down (as much as he could with sheer willpower, anyway). “Whaddya want?” 

“I just wanted to ask your name! We gotta call you something!” 

“Ranmaru,” he answered, hoping dearly that whatever he felt burning on his face was hidden by the dim lighting. 

“Cool, OK. Ranmaru-san,” she continued cheerfully. Ranmaru felt his chest tighten as he heard his name on her lips. “Are we queued up enough that we can do this number with music?” 

“This is the one for the new single, right,” he called back. He took a look at the levels, gain, and so forth as they were and instinctively nudged the knobs where the countless plays of that new song told him to. He’d imagined the vision of its stage presence for weeks. “I’m gonna test out some different settings for the levels ‘n stuff while you do that.” 

She made an expression of surprise as it came on. Delight, even, as she rode out into the following beats. Ranmaru couldn’t help crooking into his own smile, satisfied his know-how just helped that vision become a little bit brighter. She flashed him a thumbs up, then a gesture to pause, still grinning. 

“Can we take it from the top? Five, six, seven, eight---” 

-------- 

Ranmaru had never felt this sort of contradiction. She was restringing her acoustic guitar, from steel to nylon strings, as she hummed and practiced segments of songs, and Ranmaru was adjusting amplifiers and other equipment on the stage nearby. His head swam with the thought and excitement they were sharing the same stage, even just as a tech and pre-show performer, but approaching her felt like being both sides of a magnet at once. 

But that push and pull gave way, eventually, as the guitar finished being re-strung and tuned, and the humming turned into full-on singing. Ranmaru fought desperately to make sure he wasn’t just confirming what he’d already imagined, to just appreciate her live voice on its own merits and flaws. But he could feel in his chest that that character, that quality he’d responded so much to was there, that even with some lacking technical skill, there was still a rich tone color you could only get with passion and the spirit for rock. 

“You doing any solos tonight?” he asked in English. 

“Hm?” She looked caught by surprise. 

Ranmaru answered, already anticipating the question. “I’m half-American. I speak it fluently enough.” 

“Well, shit,” she said with a grin. “That’s convenient for us. I mean, I don’t mind Japanese if it’s easier…” 

“‘Sfine. Do what you want. I won’t complain about the practice, though.” 

She chuckled. “Man, maybe losing our usual guy from the agency was a stroke of good luck.” 

Ranmaru laughed challengingly. “Say that after the show goes well. And you still haven’t answered my question.” 

“Oh, uh. Right. Not really? Why do you ask?” 

“Why not?” 

She took a moment and laughed brightly in reply. Ranmaru could practically hear the insecurity she was covering up. 

“‘Cuz we’re an idol group.” 

Ranmaru gestured and murmured in vague acknowledgement. “You still have less solo lines than everyone else.” 

“Oh, do I,” she replied flatly, going back to her guitar, trimming overhanging strings. “I guess you would know, now that you’ve gotta manage all our sound.” 

“I just think it’s stupid you’ve clearly got your own voice but can’t think of sharing it without hiding behind everyone else’s.” 

She looked up at him incredulously. “Ranmaru-san, right?” 

“...Just call me Ranmaru.” 

“Alright, Ranmaru.” She looked at him again. Somehow when she looked at him dead-on this time, nothing went to mush inside of him. “Don’t fucking talk to me like our group voice isn’t the backbone of everything we’re trying to do.” 

“Nothing’s wrong with your group voice,” he shot back, getting heated. “It’s good. I can feel the soul behind it all, even when you’re rehearsing.” 

“So why are you fucking complaining?” She was still smiling, laying cheer and energy over her growing frustration. “Is there something you wanna say to me about my crew’s voices?” 

“They’re fine!” he barked back, frustrated she wasn’t getting his point. “This isn’t about them! You have something your audience is gonna be lit on fire hearing more of, that’s all!”  

Some eyes were starting to fall on them, but Ranmaru could barely notice them over the way her chest rose sharply and her expression became inscrutible. 

“...how about,” she said, speaking slowly as she deliberately, diplomatically pulled out her words, switching back to Japanese. “You save any notes you have for after the show.” 

“......Sure.” His stomach flipped again, more intensely and more painfully than the last few times. He went back to fussing with the amp, and she laid the pliers she’d trimmed her strings with on it before heading backstage until the show started. 

--- 

The show was electric. Ranmaru couldn’t say he was the right audience for most idol groups -- not so much out of distaste as much as incompatibility, he guessed. The way Reiji and Natsuki would lose their minds over their favorites’ cheerful cuteness or the kindness in their voices, Ranmaru wouldn’t. The fanatical, cult-of-personality devotion some other idols could curate with otaku-types, he didn’t connect with, either. What spoke to him was passion, backed by steely sounds and the sweat behind them; the excitement and fervor of rock and a crowd stinking of sweat; how well you could make someone scream themselves hoarse for that one, shining moment without any care for how sore they’d feel the next morning. 

Maybe it was the adrenaline from earlier, but when he could look away from the tech, he felt that here, too. There was no drum or bass player onstage, but he could still feel the beat thrum through his chest and rumble through his bones until his breath quickened, like he were jumping and dancing with the crowd. There was joy in their teamwork. In how they shaped their bodies together in song and in voice, and pushing and pulling the spotlight until it was something brighter, something shared and tangible between them and the audience.

His eyes fell on her. What should he call her? She had a stage name in Thai, but she was open that wasn’t her given name or anything friends and family called her. “Aroon” was just something she picked so she could wear her heritage proudly. It meant ‘dawn,’ it sounded cooler, more idol-ish than her Western name, which wasn’t a secret, by any means, but he heard her called by so many versions of it, none felt real. 

It only felt so weird because seeing her onstage, he felt far beyond any confirmation bias he could’ve had that the person he’d seen in the PV’s was every bit as real as he’d hoped. He saw someone who didn’t just fit on stage, but relished and grew like a plant in the hot lights burning down on them. There was something so honest about how she hyped the crowd, leaned so forward she seemed like she might leap into a crowdwalk, pointing at her ear until the whole crowd bellowed in their own guttoral harmony. And she smiled so much at her crewmates -- Ranmaru realized he was smiling, too, while she played guitar and accompanied the others’ solos, only breaking from her deep sway with the music to look at them with brightness and joy in her eyes. 

In those moments, Ranmaru understood something he hadn’t before, but it also made him realize that the hunger in him wasn’t being sated so much as it was deepening. 

They got cheered back on for an encore. And towards the end of that last song, Ranmaru watched as she broke choreography to literally lift the one Natsuki was convinced was a fairy, spinning them around as the practiced moves dissolved into joyful chaos. The whole group ended the song arm in arm, sloppily holding mics for each other as they alternately laughed, belted, fumbled, and shouted thank-yous into the audience.

Ranmaru still felt something tug at him as the mic got held in front of her, she grabbed it, and handed it to someone else. Just sing, damn it, he thought to himself. It didn’t matter if it was perfect, it just mattered that it was hers. 

Didn’t she realize she deserved to be adored the same way she wanted the rest of her group to be? 

Ranmaru cut everything as they filtered offstage, staggering and softening the mics as they put them back and let them go. He took a deep, sighing breath in and out, almost like he’d been holding it for the entire concert, as his stomach growled. 

Maybe he should’ve taken some more of Reiji’s bento, after all, and give Natsuki’s cookies another try.  

-------- 

They closed up quickly. With the group no longer bound by rehearsal, takedown went faster than ever, and there wasn’t any meet-and-greet at today’s venue. Ranmaru dimly considered looking at the merch table, but he had a week to do that and had other things to finish with today’s closeup, anyway. 

He could hear the group discussing amongst themselves in English about where to go for a late dinner celebrating a good show.

“I want chicken,” she pleaded. “Is there one of those Taiwanese shops where you can get boba and chicken around here? You know, the kind that comes in a little bag and a toothpick?” 

Eiichi approached them, and she started to repeat herself in Japanese before he asked to interrupt her. 

“We’re all headed to the izakaya two blocks from here,” he announced to everyone. “I’ve already called ahead to reserve the space. Consider it a reward for a triumph of the first show on tour.” 

“But is there chicken,” she repeated in Japanese in mock desperation as she mussed her own hair, fussing it out of the careful styling she’d had it in for hours. 

Ranmaru’s phone buzzed from the notifications he missed, shutting them off for the duration of the show. Mostly from Natsuki and Reiji. He scrolled through the groupchat as they reacted live to the stream and tried to compliment Ranmaru on managing sound so well, though he was sure it couldn’t have possibly made much of a difference for the stream. 

Ranmaru (11:37 PM): it was a killer show, wasn’t it 

Ranmaru (11:37 PM): they’re talking about craving chicken right now. Guess it’s too bad we don’t have a kotobuki bento branch around here. 

Ranmaru (11:38 PM): i could go for a kara-age bento 

Reiji (11:38 PM): Ranran….! 

Natsuki (11:39 PM): Waaaah~! I hope you find some kara-age soon and share it with your shining star! 

Ranmaru immediately locked the phone after that. His stomach somersaulted once more time. He stood by what he said to her earlier, but he couldn’t imagine she’d want to talk after the way things had gone. Better to leave the group to that postshow glow, feed himself, and head back to the hotel. 

--------- 

The room was swimming just a little. Ranmaru blearly looked at his phone, trying to ignore the fact that he’d drank beyond his limit like an idiot. He knew he was like this, so why did he keep downing beer after beer? He’d gotten too used to needing as much as he could stomach to tolerate Reiji’s antics (and, he knew dimly, he was just too used to being able to rely on him once he’d hit his limit). 

She was seated right across from him, because of course she was, but they didn’t exchange any words or even eye contact. She was entirely focused on the rest of the group and the meal itself, laughing loudly between boisterous stories and jokes and devouring whatever snacks she ordered. 

Ranmaru got up. He could make it back to the hotel by himself, probably. Nobody asked as he left, which was how he’d preferred things, right? 

If there was such thing as taking a desolate wizz, maybe this is what it felt like, he thought to himself as he dried his hands on his shirt and left the restroom to step outside. Just for a moment. Just to get some air. 

Eiichi followed him out. 

“Can I help you,” Ranmaru said roughly after Eiichi caught the door behind him. 

“Hardly.” He had the same look in his eye as before. “I thought I’d take the opportunity to say well done.” 

Ranmaru grunted. “You still have six more shows with me. Compliment me when I’ve nailed all of them.” 

“Hm. I’d certainly expect no less. But,” he continued, that grin going places Ranmaru especially didn’t like. “I can’t say that was what I was referring to.” 

Ranmaru looked at him suspiciously. 

“She’s been a tough nut to crack,” he continued. “I’m glad my instincts were right, Ranmaru Kurosaki, your brusqueness and deep experience with music laid her heart bare enough she recognized some changes she needed to make.” 

He didn’t think, and only saw red -- he couldn’t blame the alcohol entirely, but the haziness was enough that his brain needed a moment to catch up to his gut reaction. 

Eiichi laughed, unfazed by Ranmaru’s hands on his collar or snarling expression. 

“Bastard!” he barked. Eiichi’s eyes glinted behind his glasses. 

“I heard your little conversation. Do you not stand by those words?” 

“Of course I do,” Ranmaru snapped. 

“They reached her,” Eiichi cut in before Ranmaru could think of what to say next. “She’s already asking me about extra vocal training before the next recording sessions.” 

“She doesn’t need more training!” He threw Eiichi back, finally letting go. He barely needed any effort to recover, and Ranmaru just glared at him as he kept raising his voice. “And I’m not your for-hire music coach! Is this how you treat all your contractors, you rat bastard of a producer?!” 

He just laughed that laugh of his, making Ranmaru even angrier. “Your passion for music and straightforwardness was evident, even in your initial inquiry. It was just excellent luck your technical skills were just as useful for sending this idol group hurtling towards their fullest potential.” 

“If you want her to reach it, you’d tell her she doesn’t need any extra lessons. You’d just tell her she’s a great goddamn idol the way she is right now,” Ranmaru spat. “Trusting her voice is just what’ll make her into a better one.” 

“I hear some selfish intent in that, Kurosaki.” Eiichi looked like he was burning with excitement. “But that just means I can trust your intentions more than anyone. You speak as someone whose heart’s already been moved. A fan...a loyal follower who desires their success. Perhaps even more than she does.” 

“I’m going back to the hotel.” Ranmaru strode past him, feeling himself burn from top to bottom. He gave Eiichi one last look in the eye. “If you need me before the show tomorrow, find someone else.”  

------- 

The next day and next show went uneventfully. Now that he’d met the group at Yokohama, he was travelling with them in the cars and equipment vans, and he made a point of finding a back seat nobody wanted to share, stretching out, and napping the whole ride. The setup at the next live house was a pain in the ass with their unusual devices and systems, but Ranmaru was quietly grateful to have his hands full. He liked having a good reason for not wanting to talk to (scold) anyone but the live house staff itself. Being irritated they went for weird, cheap models with lower quality helped him double down on the attention needed to make the group shine. They collectively got ramen afterwards. The only words he exchanged all meal were with the one Reiji liked so much, ferrying his ramen order for him when he got frustrated with the shop crowd and left to go wait outside. 

(He’d have to find a way to talk with her later about Reiji. Not just for the autograph -- he opened up his phone, ignoring any notifications that weren’t his work email, and messaged him. 

Ranmaru (9:42 PM): send me a pic of your Mae shrine 

Reiji (9:45 PM): ehh? Ranran, what for? 

Ranmaru (9:50 PM): just send it 

Dutifully, Reiji did. Ranmaru couldn’t have imagined he really had no idea what he planned to do with it, but if he wasn’t just playing dumb, at least he’d be getting one hell of a surprise.) 

It was during the third show that things started to happen a way he could scarcely believe. The show went pretty normally, except for one point where she stumbled badly enough during a complex turn she completely ate shit. But she played it off into something hammy and funny, rolling out of the way of the others, lying like she were posing in a cheesy beefcake calendar while she found the beat again to sing. 

Ranmaru still thought she needed to own up to her lack of courage and just sing more, but putting it like she was a coward was a mistake. He thought dimly to what Reiji had said that had convinced him -- “when was the last time you had fun working a stage like this?” And he wondered if he’d ever had fun onstage like he saw. He might’ve tasted the glory and passion of the stage, the delicious energy of the audience, and the power of rock -- he knew he did, he’d looked an easier, blander life in the eye and felt too desolate to walk that path, even with his inescapable debt. 

But it could be more fun. That audience could feel more, even more connected, that he could smile through mistakes when the performance came from camaraderie as much as passion and soul. Things could be better when they were shared beyond just the respect of an audience and a performer.

He didn’t realize he was smiling as much as he was until his cheeks were hurting, but that was also because he felt hungrier than he’d ever been.  

----

He couldn’t help calculating how many meals he’d be cutting into as the convenience store clerk rang up everything, even though he’d already gotten Eiichi to confirm he was going to expense him the bill and get refunded every cent. 

The show closed late. They had a special meet-and-greet he didn’t need to be around to handle, but none of them had had the chance to eat much outside of some spare snacks. He figured something fast and easy before they could collapse in the hotel would fit the bill. 

She wasn’t there when he went around knocking on the hotel room doors and delivering the goods. Gone out to relax on the roof, they said, and when they offered to hold her food, he said no, he’d take it right to her. 

The sound of the roof door opening looked like it startled her, and he didn’t know what else to do but hold up the bag full of food like a peace offering. 

“Eat something,” he said in English, tossing her a banana from the bag. She caught it before eyeing him up and down, then settled back to the outdoor lounge chair she’d been resting on. Ranmaru took a seat in the one across for her, setting the bag on the ground as he pulled the rest of the food out. She looked hesitant, only speaking until he’d laid everything out, even the drinks.

“...That smells good,” she said in Japanese. “What’s that, kara-age?” 

“I heard you guys were craving chicken.” 

 “I mean, I sure was. Thanks.”

“I told you English was fine,” he said, back to Japanese. 

“My Japanese is fine,” she said, tearing into the banana first. 

“Yeah, but if you’re tired of speaking outside of your native tongue,” Ranmaru started, already feeling himself get heated. “Why wouldn’t you take the chance to just rest?” 

She finished her bite of banana before giving him a look. “...If you insist.” 

They just sat in silence as she ate for a bit. 

“Is there something else you want from me?” she asked. She left half the kara-age and bottled tea.

“...No, not really. I wanted to say sorry for the other day, though.” 

“Ah.” She smiled knowingly, though she didn’t look happy about it. “Don’t worry about it. It sure isn’t the first or last time I’m gonna be criticized in this industry. I can handle it.” 

Ranmaru murmured in acknowledgement, not sure to what end making himself clear to would earn, but he had to, anyways. He stared down the half-full kara-age container. 

“...This is your goddamn food, you know.” He pushed it closer to her. “Eat it.” 

“Oh, you’re sure?” 

“I didn’t have a meet-and-greet that made me miss dinner. Do you really wanna work a tour on an empty stomach?” 

She scooped it up with a knowing ‘hmm’ and a half-smile. After polishing it off, she let out a heavy sigh. 

“You are right, though. I’m being a coward, not singing more.” 

“You’re not,” Ranmaru grumbled. 

“Sure,” she said dismissively. “But I guess I should apologize for getting so defensive. I thought you were just another macho shithead trying to talk the piss out of our group and the voice we have.” 

“That’s nothing to apologize for,” Ranmaru said resolutely. “....when I was in a band, I wish I’d had bandmates who’d do that kinda shit for me.” 

“Oh, shit, what’d you play?” 

“Vocals. Bass. Rock.” 

“Aw, c’mon, get more specific than that. Surf rock? Indie boy shoegaze? Folk punk with a little dash of polka?” 

Ranmaru gave her an incredulous look. “...Oi. Do I look like a polka guy?” 

She grinned widely, looking very satisfied with herself. “I dunno, you never know who’s got a secret accordion! I could see you, maybe you painted half of it, like, red to match that edgelord RPG hero heterochromia thing you got going.” 

Ranmaru grumbled, looking away. She laughed. “....I just like rock. If you had to pull my leg I guess I’d tell you hard rock. Maybe a little alt and prog.” 

“Ooh!” She exclaimed, barely letting the sip of tea get down her throat. “That’s the good shit! Did you ever record anything?”

Ranmaru hesitated. “...Yeah, but nothing that anyone can listen to anymore.” 

She seemed to understand without much more explanation. “...Well. You’re fucking good at the sound engineering side of things. Don’t tell management this -- or well, just don’t quote me on this --  but I like you a hell of a lot more than the guy we were supposed to have from the agency. He doesn’t know shit about how to make music that’s about soul and hype. It’s like, all one level the whole time, you know? Like it’s just sitting at an 8 the whole time, we don’t really get to do stuff like crescendos. Or like, punch someone in the dick by taking it from a three and shoot it to an eleven, you know?” 

“Yeah,” Ranmaru said, throwing a hand up. “What’s with that shit? There’s a bunch of stupid clients I had who were like that. Just one kind of loud, the whole album or concert through. What’s the fucking point if you aren’t gonna make people hear something other than just fuckin’ loud?” 

“Yeah! You get it!” she whooped, before she held her hand out for a fistbump. 

It surprised Ranmaru enough that it took a moment to register. But he smiled a little and pounded it. 

------

“Man-eating momma, steam-driven hammer

Sorts the men out from the boys--” 

She slid her arm around his waist, and he nearly choked on his beer. 

They were at Korean barbecue tonight, their own private room. The last meal, after the last concert, after the last meet-and-greet, after the last frantic merch sales. Ranmaru tried to buy himself a shirt, but instead was presented with a staff hoodie for the tour and a “one of everything” comp for the rest of the merch. They were now safely tucked with other goods he’d gotten signed for Reiji and Natsuki last night while everyone hung out in their big hotel suite. Hotel management made a mistake and upgraded the whole crew to their biggest room with extra cots to fit them all, and they spent the entire post show in a dizzying, joyful, communal haze. Ranmaru even told stories of the embarrassing depths of his groupchat’s devotion to the group and each of their favorites, and everyone took turns recording chaotic, personalized videos for Ranmaru to share later. They fell asleep at a truly stupid hour, and Ranmaru wondered if this is what having sleepovers as a kid felt like. 

“Takes no messing, all-in wrestling

Is one of her pride and joys” 

Ranmaru recognized the words as she pulled him closer, swaying after slamming her beer to the table. Maybe less the tune, since that was being yelled more than sung. 

“She's a classy, flashy lassy

Imitation sapphire shine-- c’mon, dude, you know!” She looked at him expectantly. She was very, very flushed, and at this point, he had to be, too. 

“We’re not at a karaoke bar!” he barked. 

“Where’s all that ‘you gotta sing more, fuckass’ energy now, huh,” she said, lowering her voice so much to mimic that Ranmaru briefly questioned if this is what he sounded like to her. 

“....Fine! If you’re gonna sing it, actually fuckin’ sing it, don’t just yell!” 

“Oh yeah,” she said with what passed for a shit-eating grin with her. “Then show me, partyboy. Hey, everyone, meet my new vocal coach! Hold onto your dick, folks, he better fuckin floor you with all the shit he’s been talking --”  

Ranmaru looked at her a moment as she kept ranting, first with incredulity, then with a weird surreal awe. What the hell was happening?  

Why the hell should he bother questioning it? 

“-- Two-faced liar, full of fire

But I know the flame is mine!” He cut off her rant, singing as much as he could like this were a stage. 

She -- and a bunch of other staff at the table -- whooped and cheered and laughed, but she and only she joined in with him without a care in the world. “Rocka Rolla woman for a Rocka Rolla man

You can take her if you want her

If you think you can--” 

He let the arm that’d been just awkwardly dangling behind her wrap around her shoulder. He felt warmer than he’d ever had, burning all the way to the tips of his ears. 

“Rocka Rolla woman for a Rocka Rolla man

You can take her if you want her you can!” 

They hung on the last note of the chorus -- she hung on comedically long before dragging them both up to bow while everyone else clapped, laughed, cheered. A server came, yelling that they had an order of grilled beef up. Eiichi, from the other end of the table, gestured that he’d ordered it, but passed it down until it sat in front of Ranmaru. 

-------- 

They had an overnight bus trip to get back home -- or close enough to home, anyways, Ranmaru still had another long train ride waiting afterwards, so he’d planned to sleep the whole bus ride. 

But she wound up sitting next to him, and even if he could pretend like that didn’t make his heart thump now by itself, she was chatty. 

He didn’t mind the conversation, though. They mostly talked about music, sharing concert stories and albums. He even talked a little about what he wanted to do now in between all the freelance work, and when she wished him luck and couldn’t wait to hear it, he didn’t feel like she was just blowing smoke. 

There came a pause while she downed a bottle of tea. 

“...I meant it when I said there’s something in your voice the audience oughta hear,” he said, looking at her intently. 

She laughed uncomfortably after she swallowed. “Thank you. I’ll…..I guess I just have to go for it, huh.” 

“What’s stopping you?” 

“I...hm….” She paused in intent thought for a while. “Well, for one, the technical control isn’t there.” 

“Yeah, but you’ll improve that by doing it.” 

“Yeah, yeah. But there’s more than just that, I guess.” 

“Like what.” 

“...Well, you know how this industry is. It’s…hard. Finding the balance of what you’re good at, what people want, and what the higher-ups think they want. I don’t think I’m anywhere near figuring that balance out...”

“Forget all that.” Ranmaru looked at her very seriously, shifting in place so he could look her in the eye a little better. “Don’t worry about any of those things.” 

She laughed disbelievingly. “Okay, sure, lemme just. Throw out my job description while I’m at it. Dude, the whole point of this job and this work is to make other people happy.” 

“I was happy hearing your voice just as it was that first day. You just. Sang the way you wanted to. I liked that. It felt good. Genuine.” He took a moment to recall the words he found at the beginning of the tour. “...You like it when people connect with your group’s voice ‘n adore your groupmates. So let ‘em adore you some.” 

“Oh, cuz I’m so adowable,” she joked, laughing as Ranmaru scowled. 

“I mean it. I….” he started. “...The audience is going to be better for hearing more of you. Whatever that means.” 

She thought about that for a moment. “...I...you know. I don’t think I’ve ever asked myself what that looks like. Or let myself realize it, anyway.”

“You can handle the criticism if it comes. If that’s something you’re scared of.” 

“...Maybe it is. Thank you, Ranmaru, I’m going to think about that and kick everybody’s teeth in the next time we record.  

“‘Snothing,” he murmured, but he felt like his heart was going to soar out of his chest, and later, as they both nodded off and slumped over each other as the road stretched on, he realized he felt sated in a way he couldn’t remember being. A weird sort, that took away the pang of hunger, but made him feel it more deeply through his whole being. 

---- 

When he arrived ‘home,’ it was lunchtime, and he was too dazed, hungry, and tired to weather one last long walk home without some food in his stomach. It was on the way-- he may as well go to Kotobuki Bento and make Reiji make good on the free bento offer. 

(His sister rang him up, and Ranmaru paid up.) 

Reiji found him after the meal, and he wound up heading to Reiji’s room. To give him the merch, theoretically, but after Reiji earned enough grouchy monosyllabic replies, he brought something that sounded like an actual question. 

“...So, Ranran, while you were away…” 

“Just say it,” Ranmaru muttered, eyes too tired to focus. “I’m too fucking tired for you to take the long away around.” 

“Nattsun’s friend wants to join our little fanclub!”

“....And.” 

Reiji shrank a little, speaking more sheepishly. “The thing is...we mentioned you and....he’s pretty sure you two already know each other and you’d want nothing to do with him.” 

Ranmaru hazily tried to recall who that could be. There were too many people whose guts he hated for him to figure it out by himself. 

“Who is it,” Ranmaru growled tiredly. “Just fucking say it.” 

“Does...Hijirikawa ring a bell?” 

It did. Ranmaru fumed in silence for a moment, thinking about the whirlwind of disaster that name was attached to, but also the vague memories of that quiet, serious boy in traditional dress who fretted after him when they were too small to know of things like debts and bankruptcy...

“...Whatever,” Ranmaru muttered. He looked at Reiji’s bed and decided he wasn’t going to tolerate any more of this exhaustion -- he had a reliable neighbor to leave food out for the cats, anyway, what was a couple more hours? “It’s not really much of a fanclub if it’s just the three of us. He can join if he wants. It’ll give you ‘n Natsuki someone who’s better at responding to your crazy nightlong gushing than me.” He tossed the dakimakura on Reiji’s bed, dented in the middle from so much hugging, to him, before he shrugged closer into his staff tour hoodie and slumped into Reiji’s bed. 

He could practically see Reiji stammering, even as he turned away and settled into the comfort of eyes closed and a real bed. Clearly, that wasn’t the answer he was expecting, and it wasn’t the one Ranmaru was expecting to give, either. 

“-- R...Ranran, you really--” 

“Yes! What the fuck wasn’t clear about what I said! Masato can join! Go add him already! Just let me sleep, you noisy bastard!” Ranmaru barked one last time at Reiji. 

Ranmaru ignored whatever last jabbering Reiji had for him, already carried off to proper sleep. He wondered what he could possibly dream about that would rival the past week and this satisfying feeling, cradled in his new hoodie.  

(I perform semi-professionally -- not as an idol, mind, but I’m still getting up on a stage/camera to entertain people on the reg -- and it was so weird but also really......doki-inspiring, let’s say, to imagine Ranmaru being a fan of my stage bravado :’’’’’D To be honest I’ve been feeling a little discouraged and burnt out by it lately but this really refilled my tanks!!!) 

#iron maiden & rocka rolla #hints of #matchamocha #and #peach lemonade #scribblings #roleswap au #selfship #self insert #selfship fic

[nakunakunomi]

Matchup for @onepiece-writting-forest​ Age: 20 Sexuality: Heterosexual, prefer men  MBI: INTJ  physical details: I’d say curvy would desribe it well. Try to take care of myself so my form is rather thin with some flesh where it belongs. Small waist, juicy thighs, you get the picture. Ive black curly hair which reaches down to my hips almost. Pierced nostril and ears, kept in gold. Thats about it. general style: If you mean fashion wise, I perfer dark clothes, and mostly black to be honest. Some tight jeans and a comfy hoodie with a leather jacket, I’m good to go. Tho I dig some boots with heals. Biker boots whith heals r sick. Comfy + showing of a bit figure is what I like.  Interests: Since I’m studying in the scientific field I love learning about new discoveries in there. From chemistry to biology, count me in. I like reading however mostly non-fiction, I like getting new knowledge rather than reading a story. I’m damn competetive and any video game where I can compete is a  big ass hobby. I live in a quite mountain and forest filled area. Hicking and just wandering in nature is *chefs kisses*.  Fun Fact: I don’t look like it but I can get quite hot headed. Ive a big ass temper which I learned to control. Bless you stoicism. Favourites: Dark greens and Reds make me feel at home, I dig those colors. Having middle eastern blood in me, food with a lot of spices is just *more chef kisses*. Not necessarily hot, just spicy. Actually can’t handle hot food. Music wise I love heavy music, mostly metal or rock. Somehow blues and country caught me as well.  Fears: Fucking hate the dark. God no I can’t. My brain goes full loco when I’m alone in the dark. Oh yea your door just opened? Thats a fucking demon stalking you. I know its not real but oh boy its hard. Little bit paranoid with that.  Dreams & Goals: Getting into scientific research (medical would be even better)  and being part of new discoveries which help the population. Thats my main goal for now. Besides that, trying to improve myself and getting my full potential.

Hi Zosin! Thank you for being so patient with me and the big description!! Super helpful <3! I match you with: 

OTP: Basil Hawkins 

The very first thing that Hawkins falls for is your intelligence. Even though most of his knowledge leans on the spiritual side, he’s not one to deny science and with his predictions and your general knowledge you’re a powercouple with brains that have yet to be matched by anyone else. 

A general style leaning more towards alternative is completely up his ally, and you have a general aesthetic going on that would keep most people at bay. 

When it comes to dates, Hawkins is up for mostly anything. He doesn’t mind being outside, prefers places with little people. Long trips on sea or walks on inhabited islands are what he prefers to do with you so you can both enjoy peace, quiet and each other’s company. 

Under all the stoicism there is some hidden nerdiness as well as a determined -and also slightly competitive- spirit. If you challenge him to a game of any sorts, he’ll intially reluctantly agree, but once you’re both in the game, expect some hardcore competition, and maybe some pouting of whoever loses. 

Hawkins may not seem like an overly romantic or lovey-dovey type, which is partly true, but there are some ways he shows his affection that are perfect for you. He will challenge you in ways you can improve your skills and get closer to your goals. He’ll leave you your independence but will always be silently supporting in the background. He always leaves some nicely smelling candles burning (checking his cards to see if it’s safe to do so), so you’re never left in the dark. There’s all these small gestures and little affections, like planting a kiss at the top of your head as you’re reading or just spending time sitting very closely next to you as you each do your thing. Your relationship is lowkey, and filled with respect. 

Runner up: Trafalgar Law 

On first sight, match made in heaven. Science and medical stuff? You got that in common, it’s something you can talk about for hours. Your general aesthetics match up pretty well too. A little punk, a bit of an edge yet an undeniable soft side when it comes to character. It could work out well. 

Enjoying the outside, and having that competitive edge works very well with the general crew and can possibly help get Law more out of his shell as well, you bet this gremlin can’t say no to a challenge and even playful matches and challenges turn into dead serious situations where there’s only giggles when it is all over and you can laugh about the ridiculousness of the situation. 

Why he’s not your perfect match: There’s a bunch of little things that don’t add up that may make this relationship less feasible. It’s nearly always dark in a submarine, and you’re going to have to spend time there. Also, law is matching a lot in character, which means quiet moments but there are bursts of emotion where arguments would be inevitable. And well, being a doctor doesn’t necessarily mean being interested in the sciences. It’s more of a convenience thing with Law, it’s what he was taught as a child and it fits his powers. 

BrOTP: Tashigi 

Tashigi is the serious friend supporting you through all your studies and endeavors! Literally the best study-buddy, she will spend hours in the library with you or for you, will make sure you keep to schedules and even make them for you, and she will quiz you if you ask for it. 

At the same time, she’s always there for just some fun, training together and all other ways to release some energy. If you think everything is becoming too much she will literally drag you away from what is stressing you and go somewhere where you can completely relax. 

It’s the kind of friendship where you know what the other means without really having to say anything. The kind of friendship where you don’t necessarily have to ask for something, but the other will bring it anyway. You are both strong ladies focussed on your goals, and although they are different, in essence you both want to help people and are 100% behind each other in getting there! 

#Matchup #one piece #one piece matchup #onepiece-writting-forest #naku no matchup #500 followers event