#they literally just wiggle their fingers menacingly | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

harrieatthemet · 3 months

Text

Needle

Summary: in which Harry brings you flowers to minimize the pain of a needle, and you've decided to throw out your baby books.

Word Count: 2.6k

Author's note: taking it to the very beginning and gifting all of us (myself included) the series of events that brought us to our reigning queen: Angel Baby.

It's her world, we're just living in it: she lives here

It’s resting menacingly between his fingers, staring you down as though it’s got a mind of it’s own. There’s a very familiar sensation that’s starting to conjure itself up in the pit of your stomach; fear and the anticipation of unavoidable pain. Honestly, the longer you fixate on the bulk of the needle the more the feeling that started in your gut starts to expand towards your chest.

“Just do it,” you blurt out, “get it over with.”

You’re not intentionally trying to squirm. Fight or flight is just loitering deep within your instinctual reflexes, which is making it kind of hard not to writhe around a bit. You don’t know if it’s the gush of cool air that falls in through the cracked window or the way Harry moves closer to your exposed abdomen but you can’t help but jolt a bit.

“Just hold still poppet, promise m’gonna make it quick.”

He’s eye level with your lower back now, crouched down with his knees hovering brazenly above his feet. Before he advances any closer he peeks up at you. It’s almost as if he’s silently asking for permission to get on with it. You just nod before sealing your eyes shut, like you typically do.

There’s an entire routine for this that’s he nailed down to a T. In an attempt to soothe a bit of your nerves, he always lays his hand flat to the base of your stomach. That’s where he lets his thumb rub a few circles as a way to ease the nerves a bit; not just yours, but his too. His newest addition is delivering a small kiss to the spot he pokes you with the needle. There’s no rhyme or reason to it, but he feels like an extra step for good luck couldn’t hurt at this point. He doesn’t mind that this particular shot goes into your butt. He’s big on good luck rituals, so he’s not about to fuck with the juju on this one.

One bit he refuses to change is to dig up something distracting to draw your attention elsewhere. It doesn’t always work. In fact, you don’t think it’s ever worked at all. You’d never outwardly admit that it’s a useless ploy; you know he’s just trying to take some of the edge off. Each time it’s something different and he always tries to pick something ridiculous or outlandishly stupid.

“Y’know,” he grins as he takes the fleshy part of your belly in between his thumb and index finger “I literally just kissed your ass.”

A proud smirk plants itself on his mouth when he hears an exhale-like laugh slip out of you. It fades into a frown though as he jabs at you with the needle, because you suck it back in with a sharp breath. One of your hands is gripping onto the basin of the sink, and the other is digging it’s fingers into the flimsy material of his shoulder in an attempt to offset the impending burning sensation. He can almost feel your fingernails creating small crescents into the surface of his skin.

It’s a relief once he can finally pull the needle out. He hates seeing you in pain. Even though this was an endeavor you both willingly agreed to embark on, he hates being the one to put you in pain. That’s why he breathes out in comforting release when he can put the empty needle onto the kitchen counter.

“S’all finished now,” his tone is so calm because he knows the stifling burning sensation is well underway, “no more shots.”

His eyes are trained on you as you wiggle your jeans back up your legs, wincing a bit when the denim veers over the injection spot. And you fiddle with the zipper before looping the button back in, smoothing out your shirt over the waistband as a way to push the last 6 minutes completely from your mind.

Finally you bring your gaze to meet his, moping a bit in the process, “You said that last time.”

“I mean it,” he tuts, the coolness of his rings meeting your cheeks as he lays both hands flat on your face, “can feel somethin’ different this time.”

He doesn’t care that he goes in for a peck on your mouth and still feels the frown on your lips. For good measure, he delivers a few more at rapid speed until he finally feels your frown lines subside. That’s how he can start to feel a little more content. He’s completely at ease when he pulls his face back a bit, analyzing the more lax expression on your face while he strokes his thumbs near your temples.

“Maybe” you answer flatly, “I’m not getting my hopes up, though.”

Though he’s limited in what he can do to mitigate all that comes with the IVF process, he’s made it his priority to over-compensate in what he actually can do to try and make up for the things he can’t. If he could physically take the shots himself he would in a heartbeat. But he can’t, so he teeters on the border of helplessness when you get down in the mouth like this. He’d compensate with long vacations, drowning you in little gifts sporadically or planning quirky dates to keep your energy up. There was a shift after the most recent miscarriage that even doubling the size of your wedding ring diamond couldn’t reverse. So now he just tries to stick solely to offering his optimistic support whatever chance he gets.

“Thank you for these,” you hum in gratitude as you bring the bouquet of flowers beneath your nose, “I feel like I should be getting you flowers, though.”

“Flowers fo’ me?” He wiggles his eyebrows at you, “Why’s that?”

“Didn’t you just open mouth kiss my ass cheek?”

His laugh starts in the back of his eyes as they crinkle in amusement, tickling the back of his throat as it spills from his mouth and echos through the kitchen. With a shake of the head he mocks you for a minute by puckering his lips, handing you the ice pack he fished out of the freezer so you could minimize the burn from the injection site.

He gleefully accepts your invitation to handle the flowers; unwrapping them with nimble fingers as he peels back the paper to expose the stems. There’s amusement twinkling in his eye as he catches you slipping the bunny shaped ice pack inside the butt of your jeans, fidgeting with it so it’ll stay in one place. The amusement quickly deteriorates though when he opens the garbage to throw out the paper and greeted with something of a much more somber tone.

“Y/N,” his shoulders drop a bit, “y’wanna tell me why these are in here?”

Though your back is turned to him so you can’t physically see what it is he’s referring to, you already know exactly what he’s talking about. If he’s got the garbage open you know he’s looking at the pile of baby books mounted at the very top. You know how he is, how he wants to take care of everyone all the time. And because of that, you willfully decided to omit your brief breakdown earlier when you went through your nightstand and stumbled upon those books hidden beneath a couple pairs of tights.

“Not particularly” you admit, back still turned to him, “just had a kinda weird morning.”

There’s a lingering silence that takes up a chunk of space in the room. You’re not willing to divulge anymore than you already have, and Harry waits a minute before throwing out the paper before closing the garage. He wants to make sure he strings together the proper things to say to you before saying anything at all.

It’s once he gathers what he needs to that you don’t hear him, but feel him; the front his body pressing into the back of yours. He smirks a bit when he feels the chill of the ice pack through your pants, hands slithering around your waist before he interlocks his fingers and rests both hands on your stomach. A hum of approval gurgles in his throat when he feels you lean into the embrace so he can rest his head atop your shoulder.

“S’gonna happen” his whisper is like a lull in your ear, his lips right up against them, “We’ll go t’the doctor in a few days and do th’extraction and just take it day by day. Good news this time, I promise.”

He delivers it with kisses to your head in between words, as though it’ll somehow permanently ingrain into your mind and become a staple in your thought process.

In a way, it almost does.

On a loop in your mind his words play; over and over throughout the next few days without pause in sight. He tries to reiterate them as much as he can whenever he feels like you need a little extra support; the egg retrieval, the implantation process, all of it and everything in between. If this has been a difficult road for him to go down, he truthfully can’t imagine the cross you’ve been bearing through it all. All he can do for the next couple of days, though it pains him there isn’t anything more he’s capable of, is offer as much moral support and words of encouragement that he’s capable of producing.

“How y’feeling?” He’s asking with a wide, forced smile as he peeks over at you from the driver’s seat, “Feelin’ good?”

His hand unoccupied by the steering wheel is making itself useful on your upper thigh. It’s where his fingers are tapping in tune to the key of the music humming from the car stereo. And every so often they’ll stop to give your leg a squeeze; his way of comforting you on the trek to the long-await, very dreaded doctors appointment. The tone of the afternoon is overkill perkiness, and Harry is setting the mood by sparing no gesture big or small.

“Har relax,” you laugh, “I’m all good.”

There’s no point in rebutting with anything or doubling down on the enthusiasm like he’s been doing all morning. You’re answer was definitive enough to tell him that you weren’t interested in dragging that conversation any further than where you left it. That’s fine; he’s playing by your rule book today anyways.

It’s why he doesn’t make that cheesy cat joke to the girl behind the desk at the doctor’s office. He’s said it about a million times and knows you’re sick of it. He doesn’t stand up when the attending nurse hangs in the doorway of the waiting room, calling out for a ‘Ms. Styles’ and being corrected by Harry with the usual (and polite) ‘it’s Mrs. Actually’. He’s so sure to keep you in a calm and collected state that he doesn’t make a vampire joke or pretend to pass out when the nurse puts the line into your vein to take a blood sample.

“No fake faint this time,” you muse teasingly, “they grow up so fast.”

From his seat in the corner you watch him playfully roll his eyes, mimicking you under his breath before he stands up and straightens himself up. He wants to take a firm stance by you, who’s perched meekly on the examination table swinging your legs back and forth to pass the time.

You won’t tell Harry in fear of him leaning into the overcompensating role of ‘caretaker’ and ‘fixer of all problems’, but you’re stomach is in a million tight little knots and your eyes are starting to glaze over. At first you wanted to fault it to exhaustion; you barely got an hours worth of sleep last night because the onset of anxiety was too overbearing to keep your eyes shut for more than a few minutes.

“I don’t think I’m meant to be a mom,” you sigh forlornly, and his eyes go wide at the bluntness, “I don’t think- I don’t wanna do this again if it doesn’t work, okay? Is that okay?”

It’s almost an a-ha moment for Harry. He’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop because he couldn’t really wrap his head around how mild you were being. But there it was, the revelation from you’d he’d been holding his breath for. It’s not what he wanted to here but nonetheless, he knew it was bound to come at some point.

"Whatever y'want, poppet. Just want y'to be happy."

He nods in agreement as he says it, hoping it's enough. If this was the end, than it was the end. All he can do is offer a kiss before a long-lingering hug, which you take as confirmation that he understands you’re just not equipped to keep at this further than the point you’re at.

“How’re we doing today?”

Both you and Harry stiffen out a bit once the doctor immerses himself into the room, answering with a chipper ‘good’ in unison. It tells Harry to prep for the impending bad news. It feels like he regressed and sunken back into the last time he was here. The memory is almost too vivid; the perpetual ball of dread in his stomach, the look of disappointment that swept across your face before a few tears dribbled down your cheek, the sob or two you choked out in the otherwise silent car ride home. The memory is subconsciously prepping him for what’s to come, and he’ll be here to pull himself up by the boot straps to make sure you have plenty of space to crumble once the doctor reads off the plastic board in his hands.

“Tell me how you’re feeling,” the doctor asks, plopping himself down in one of those backless spinning chairs to scoot himself closer, “anything worth making a note of? Nothing is too big or small.”

“Not really” Harry answer is simply a mindless, knee-jerk response, “just like-oh, y’asking, no ok-ok sorry.”

The doctor chuckles a bit, saying something to Harry about how nerves are normal. Honestly, you’re only half listening and both of them are as audible as white noise. You’ve mentally checked out as you anticipate the news to come. You wish you were out of your body or anywhere else.

“Just tired,” you admit, slowly nodding as you purse your lips, “really tired. A little bit of cramping, too. Mostly tired, though.”

That’s about all you’re willing to disclose for your quaint audience of two. Though you are literally and physically exhausted, perhaps there was a bit of a metaphoric meaning to it too. This process is tiring. Consistent bad news is tiring. Being physically incapable of giving Harry the child he so desperately wants is so fucking tiring.

All the doctor does is nod his head in a way to in-audibly tell you he’s making a mental note of your vague list of symptoms. There’s a terse pause where the room falls into a quiet pause. The only noise to be heard is when your doctor flips one of the pages on his clipboard before swiftly folding it in half.

“Well,” his breath out is in a more positive tune, “all normal symptoms for the first trimester.”

Your eyebrows knit together in confusion before your body begins to go completely numb, though Harry’s hand gives your a comforting squeeze. He looks at you first, lips spread in a little O as his eyes nearly double in size. Frantically he tries to rack his brain for something to say, and while nothing seems to be coming out, the doctor swoops in to do enough talking for him.

The doctor extends his hand out to you, the folded paper in his palm and a grin etched on the lower half of his face, “Congratulations.”

138 notes · View notes

aticklishpercivalwriter · 3 months

Text

The Love that Travels and Lives on in the Wind - Chapter 1: Sibling Shenanigans

Story Masterlist

A/N: Okay, here goes. This is my first fic post ever and it is a chapter for my self-indulgent story. I hope you enjoy! Comments and critiques are welcome as always :)

Update: This will probably be the only tickling part of the fic until I write for Venti as a fyi. The part of Lumine being tickled didn't feel it flowed well, so I changed a few things. Other minor stuff like spelling and wording were adjusted too.

Summary: A day in the life of Aether and Lumine.

—

Word Count: 2084

The lives of Aether and Lumine were perfect: Brother and sister, together at every step. Always having each other's backs. Traveling across galaxies and bringing souvenirs “home” with them. As universe-trotters, they did not truly have a “home,” permanent place to inhabit, but they eventually found one after countless searching.

Lush grass rustled in the salty ocean breeze as the orange and red hues of sunset painted the skies. A one-story house settled atop a hill overlooking the ocean and the lush trees, and lake in the far west. Soft jazz music wafted out the window as the ocean breeze flowed in. The furnishings collected through their travels reflected the sunset colors and completed the feeling of home.

“Can you pass the salt, Aether?”

“What?”

“Salt.”

“The sea is literally outside, Lumine.”

Lumine rolled her eyes as she held her hand towards Aether, sitting across from her in their cozy kitchen. They were eating strawberries, freshly picked from their home garden by the lake.

“Pass the salt. Y’know, the salt that you just used. It’s literally on the table in front of you,” Lumine retorted. “And stop being a smart ass.”

“And what if I don’t?”

“You and I both know what will happen.”

“Is that a challenge?”

“Maybe…. Eat this!”

Lumine suddenly threw her strawberries at Aether in lightning succession. Before he could react, a strawberry struck him right between the eyes and bounced toward the floor.

“Why you-” Aether recovered quickly and began catching each one with his mouth and eating them at record speed. Lumine laughed as she tried her best to make him falter, but she eventually ran out of strawberries and was left with a smug-looking Aether.

“Aw dang it,” she sighed in defeat, before catching a glimpse of her brother’s face and cracking up. “You look like a chipmunk!”

“Eusce Mmp?!”

Lumine pulled an instant camera out of nowhere and snapped his photo with his cheeks puffed up, full of strawberries, and red juice dripping down his chin. He finished swallowing just as the photo finished printing.

“Thanks for the food,” Aether smirked, completely ignoring the photo. “Told you I can handle anything.”

Lumine rolled her eyes then sent him a devious smile that sent shivers up his spine.

“Oh that? That was only a warm-up. You are going down now.”

Lumine calmly rose from her chair and walked towards her brother, who cowered in fear.

“Wait… What are you doing? Lumine?" Aether squeaked, putting up his hands in defense and leaning as far back as he could. Lumine only responded by walking slower and slowly bringing up her fingers and wiggling them menacingly as she slowly smiled that mischievous smile of hers. Aether's eyes widened in realization, and he fell into a panic, stumbling out of his chair.

I am so done for, he thought.

"No Lumhihine!” he gasped out between giggles, "W-We can tahalk about thihis. I-Viator! I'm going to fall!"

Viator, Aether's cat, strolled into the kitchen making him trip as he tried to use anemo to break his fall.

A sudden tug at his back brought him crashing into Lumine.

“Oof. Thank- Hey! That’s not fair!”

Lumine stuck her tongue out at him as she wrapped Aether’s wrists with Dendro vines.

"Viator, are you okay?" Lumine questioned, stroking his soft, light brown fur with one hand, and pinning down a struggling Aether.

Viator purred and nudged his head against Lumine, his chestnut brown spotted tail swishing back and forth before walking over to the neglected strawberry on the floor and settling down to eat it.

Lumine smiled fondly at him before turning her attention to a whining and giggling Aether.

"Lumihihinehehe!”

Lumine smirked as she brushed her fingers against his exposed sides, trapping him against the floor.

“Aww, is my big, tough brother ticklish?” Lumine teased. “Coochie coochie coo~”

“Luhumihihihinehehe! Nohohohoho!” Aether giggled, trying to buck her off. “Nahahahat therehehe!”

“Not here? What about here?” She began to vibrate her fingers against his ribs causing him to throw his head back and laugh.

“LUMIHIHIHI! NAHAHAHAHA! YOU ARHEHEHE EVIHIHIL! HAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHA!”

“Me? Evil? You have some nerve.” She added more pressure, eliciting more frantic laughter from him as tears leaked from his closed eyes. “If you just passed the salt, this wouldn’t have happened. Unless…” She bent down towards his ear, whispering, “...you wanted this to happen, my tickle loving brother?”

“AHAHAHA! IS THAHAHAT WHAHAHAT YOU THIHIHINK? YOU AREHEHE WR- HAHAHAHA! WRONG! WROHOHONG! PLEHEHEASE! THAHAHAT’S MY WORST SPOHOHOT! HAHAHA!”

“Worst spot you say?” Lumine’s smirk grew wider. “That is where you are wrong. I’m tickling your worst area, not your worst spot.”

Aether’s eyes shot open in horror as he processed what his sister said. He struggled more frantically, trying to form a Geo knife to cut at his bonds.

“NohoHO! DoHOHOn’t youHU dahaHARE!” he threatened, albeit ineffectively, with a wide smile on his face.

“Oh, I dare. The tickle monster will take good care of you,” she teased, winking at him before wiggling a finger in his navel.

“DiHId you puHULL theHE tihic- KLEHEHE MOHOHONSTEHEHER? HAHAHAHA! NAHAHAHAT THEHEHERE! EHEHEVIL! PLEHEHE- WHAHAHAT IHIHIS THAHAHAT!? AHAHAHA! NOHOHOHO!

Aether burst into louder laughter that was sure to scare any living thing within a twenty feet radius from the window. Lumine just chuckled at his reaction as she used Anemo to enhance the sensations making him lose concentration on creating the Geo knife.

“HAHAHAHA! AHAHAHAHA! LU- NAHAHAHA! OHOHOHO PLEAHEHEHESE!”

“I’m not hearing you say stop~”

“HAHAHAHAHA! YOU ARHEHEHE MEHEHEHEAN! AHAHAHAHA!”

“You will know the real meaning of mean after this. Get ready to laugh.”

Nothing could have prepared him for what was about to come. A raspberry.

“SHIHIHIHIT! NOHOHOHOHO!”

Then another.

“WAHAHAHAT? AHAHAHAHA!”

And another one.

“LUM- HAHAHAHA!”

And many more.

“THIHIHIS IHIHIS SOHOHOHOHO BAHAHAHAD! AHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”

“Ready to give up yet?”

“NEHEHEHEVER!”

“Suit yourself.”

Lumine pulled the finale by adding her fingers to the mix and scribbling all over his sides and ribs.

“HAHAHAHAHA! AHAHAHA! OKAY! OKAHAHAHAY! STAHAHAP! STAHAHAHAHAP! PLEHEHEASE!”

Lumine still went on making Aether rack his brains for the right word.

“VIHIHIHISION! VISION! LUMIHIHIHI! HAHAHAHAHA!”

Lumine immediately pulled away as Aether laughed and giggled as the residual, tickly ghost sensations ebbed away. Viator padded over to Lumine and nudged her as if to say, you got him good; he deserved it. He then rubbed his fur against Aether’s neck, tickling him.

“Nohohoho morehehe!” Aether laughed weakly, nudging his neck away in a fruitless attempt. “Ihihi dehehefinitely knohohow whahat you tohold Lumine.”

Aether scrunched his neck to fend off the sensations caused by Viator’s incessant purring. Eventually, the overly affectionate cat backed off and went to play with Viatrix, Lumine’s cat.

“You know I was going to stop after a couple minutes,” Lumine said. “I wanted to push you a little more. I wasn't expecting you to use a safe word. You know I wouldn't kill you, right?”

Aether chuckled, “Of course I know you wouldn't kill me. I just know how mischievous you are and thought that you really needed the right word to get you to stop.”

“Hahaha, you know me as well as I know you.”

“And that must mean you know how we can recover stamina quicker than any other being,” he smirked, devilishly.

She hesitantly narrowed her eyes in suspicion.

“But I tied you up with the vines?”

He only smirked wider. “I know,” he responded, showing his free hands “But I used Geo, and you know the rest.”

She stared in utter bewilderment until he lifted her off the floor, causing her to squeak in protest.

“Aether! What do you think you are doihing-” She felt the air escape her lungs as he wiggled his fingers against her side.

“Just getting my revenge,” he said, nonchalantly, bringing her to their living room couch. And then throwing her into the air.

“AETHER!” she screamed.

He then gently lowered her with his Anemo abilities, laughing through it all.

“Ahahaha! Come on. That was funny! You know I wouldn't hurt you either.”

“Ha ha, very funny,” she deadpanned. She tried to get up only to realize that she had her hands bound with Cryo. “I hate you; you know that?”

“Nah, you don't. You love me.”

“Wait until I- ahahaha!”

“You were saying?” Aether chuckled, gliding his fingers down her armpits.

“IHihiHI’LL BRIhihiHING YOUhuhuHU DOhoHOWN! NAHAHAHAHA!”

“Glad you still have your fighting spirit.”

“OHOHOHOHO SHUHUT UHUHUP!”

“Hmm?” he hummed.

“Ahahahaha! You heheheard mehehe!”

He chuckled, gently scratching at her sides.

“AEHEHEHETHER!”

“Yeah?” he asked casually, as if Lumine wasn’t dying of laughter.

“AHAHAHAHA!” she squealed, trying to avoid his fingers to no avail. “WEHEHE NEHEHEHED TO WAHAHATCH THE NIHIHIHIGHT SKYHYHY!”

“Eh, I think it can wait.”

Aether continued to tickle Lumine as the colors in the room changed from pastel orange to an indigo hue.

“Can wehehe wahatch thehehe sky nohow?” Lumine asked after noticing the color change. Aether was just tracing random shapes across her shoulders, listening to her giggles. He totally forgot about their original plans to watch the sunset together.

“Yeah, I guess sohohohoho. Viahahatrix!” Said soft blue and white furred cat entered the room and rubbed against his feet affectionately as if asking, Gentle scratches, please.

“Okay, okay. I hear ya,” Aether said, scratching the back of her ears making her purr in satisfaction and her blue spotted tail sway. “Where’s your brother?”

A loud meow resounded by the front door.

“Well, there’s your answer,” Lumine chuckled. “Would you help me out with the bonds?”

“Oh yeah, of course.”

As he reached towards her hands, she suddenly shot water at him.

“Bleh!”

“Hahahaha, payback~”

“Pyro, huh?

“Yup, and Hydro too.”

“Teaching you well, huh?”

“Whatever you say, big bro,” Lumine said, rolling her eyes.

Viator and Viatrix meowed impatiently as they pushed Aether and Lumine towards the front door.

“Okay, okay. We are coming. ‘Go watch the night sky,’ we get it,” both Lumine and Aether laughed as they opened the door.

They were greeted by fireflies, which the cats immediately began swatting at. The siblings walked towards a hammock they set up by the house with a perfect view of the horizon.

Indigo colors painted the horizon while the dark blue sky was dotted with stars. The colors waved across the ocean painting a majestic–almost magical–light show.

“I can never get tired of this view,” Lumine said breathlessly once they settled in the hammock. “It’s beautiful.”

“I like the sunrise better if I’m being honest,” Aether confessed.

“Can you read the mood, Aether? You just ruined it,” Lumine exasperated.

“Sorry. Here, let me fix it,” Aether amended sarcastically. “You are a hundred percent right; this view is super-duper nice.”

His sister rolls her eyes before he continues, a sudden sincerity slipping to his voice, “Reminds me of traveling through the universe. The stars zoom by as we visit different worlds. Each galaxies’ colors mix to create a breathtaking sight, something that no one else could ever see like we do, a true spectacle.”

A comfortable silence settled over them as they enjoyed each other’s presence and the scenery. The only sounds were nature around them, the soft jazz still drifting out of their kitchen window, and their cats playing in the grass.

“I’m glad we found this place,” Aether said, breaking the silence. “This world is ours along with our two cats. A safe haven for both of us.”

“You are right. It’s peaceful and fits our vibe just right. A moment in time here is always special,” Lumine agreed.

“We’ll stay together until the end of time, protecting one another.”

“And if we do ever get separated, we’ll always find a way back here.”

Aether yawned and Lumine followed suit.

“Sleep?”

“Yeah, let’s sleep.”

Both snuggled in the hammock together as their eyelids grew heavy.

“Lumine?” Aether said, sleepily.

“Hmm?” Lumine hummed, sleepily as well.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too. We’ll stick by each other’s side, always.”

Their breathing evened out as they fell asleep. The cats quietly walked to the hammock and then looked at each other. Then they walked up to the kitchen window and their fur glowed as they harnessed the power of Electro to turn off the music and lights. They headed back to the hammock and closed their eyes as they pulled in the power of Anemo to lift themselves to the hammock’s level and landed lightly on the siblings’ figures before curling up together and sleeping alongside them.

The light of the world dimmed as it too went to sleep.

#percival fics #my fic #lee!aether #ler!lumine #lee!lumine #ler!aether #genshin impact #tickling #tickle fic #aether #lumine #Genshin impact tickle #Genshin tickling #Genshin tickle #genshin impact tickling

8 notes · View notes

wormonastriing · 2 years

Note

WAIT!!! I just realized I forgot some.

Stoic character getting tickled and having the goofiest most dorky laugh ever. I'm talking snorts, 'Hyucks', those cute machine gun type laughs, etc., just completely breaking their usual character.

An extension to the last one is that the threat of tickles cause them to break character. so someone wiggles their fingers in their direction menacingly and its instant sweating, blushing, fast talking and their voice goes up like 10 octaves.

A bonus to the stoic character liking being tickled: imagine a group of friends is having an all out tickle war but one friend in particular hasn't been touched because they're usually so tough and unflinching. so the stoic one is like "Okay my turn" and just offers themselves up, confusing everyone cause clearly this is a joke right, they can't possibly be ticklish but all doubts dissipate when they get peals of delighted laughter.

My god you guys have the biggest brains ever because YES,,,

Literally all of these. Characters having uncharacteristically goofy laughs is always a winner for me bc omg is that not the best part?? That amazing laugh?? Seeing that smile??????

And omg getting tickle apprehension YES golden. A+ concept we love to see a tough guy start melting and losing composure at the mere threat of being touched.

HSHSHSHS MOM SAID IT'S MY TURN TO BE THE LEE

#Y E S #YYYEEEEESSSSS #god you guys are feeding me so well I'm so happy shsjsjjsjs #literally just...love stoic characters being tickled and getting love ok ok ok #my fave chara is always the broody asshole so ofc #tickles #wormy rambles

42 notes · View notes

hyunjilicious · 3 years

Text

a helping hand [henry cavill] - part 2

A/n: I’m sorry it took me so long. I don’t like how this part turned out, at all, but I rewrote it 3 times and I can’t even think about these scenes anymore without getting annoyed. I’m just happy it’s finished and that I can start working on part 3 (that is, if you like this one enough to want to keep reading lol)

Summary: After you post on onlyfans a video starring another man, Henry decides to take matters into his own hands. (cameo: Steve Rogers) KINKY 4k

Warnings: spanking, daddy kink, dirty talk, mentions of smut and masturbation (male), humiliation/degradation kink, groping, mentions of porn and filming pornographic material, stalker-ish/obsessed Henry. (also tumblr crashed when I first tried to upload this so maybe that a sign this sucks)

You can read part 1 here!

The sight brought down a storm upon Henry's mind. He stood there, mouth agape, watching the screen, unable to believe his eyes. It was one thing to post videos of yourself on the Internet, but to have someone else take part in them was too much. At least for Henry. Still smart and composed, he realised there wasn't anything he could do about it, but nevertheless, he was determined to not let this shit slide for much longer.

As much as he wanted to hunt down that man who dared put his hands on you, Henry gathered himself, took a deep breath and closed the onlyfans page. He was perfectly aware that just the right amount of you could get him to lose his sense of control and do things he'd later regret. Still, in desperate need to see you, he grabbed his phone, eyes scheming over your socials, only to see that the last time you had been active was 7 minutes ago. So, without much consideration, he started typing.

"You up?"

"Yep. Finishing up an essay. Coffee in 30??"

Oh, and how deeply that hurt him. "Of course" he sent you, and then checked again the post you made at 3am. '...I'll go to sleep right now, edit it for you when I wake up...'

You were lying? Why were you lying to him? It drove him insane. Henry felt like he couldn't sit down anymore, like he had no chance to catch his breath. He couldn't think straight, so he wasn't really to blame for what he did next.

Henry's fingers flew over the keyboard, accessing Facebook and logging into your account, desperate to see whether he could find out who the man in your video was. And it was as easy as it could've been, considering your last 5 conversations were with the girl friends he already knew about. But somewhere among them, he spotted an unfamiliar name - Steve R., and instantly clicked and opened the conversation. His blood started to boil when the multitude of emojis you sent reached his eyes, but he scrolled up, until he found the beginning of yesterday's conversation.

It was started by you, and with a request. You were blunt and went straight for it, asking him with just one message to be in the video with you. There was no trace of your relationship with him on the Internet, so Henry had no idea regarding the nature of yours and Steve's connection. Judging by the way you addressed him, he could easily assume the man was nothing more than a fuck buddy. Even though it angered him, Henry kept his calm and decided to go about this with care. It would only be a matter of time until he removed Steve from your life. But for now, he just had to keep digging for information.

Steve R.: "Exactly what do you need me to do, baby? Spank you? In front of the camera? Are you serious?"

"Yes, Steve. Come on!! I know we haven't seen each other in a while, but still... 😇 when it comes to these things, you know me better than anyone"

Henry scoffed. Who the fuck was this guy?

Steve R.: "I know, baby"

Steve R.: "What's in it for me?"

Smoke came out of Henry's ears, and the fact that you acted so sweet and innocent made him want to smash his keyboard.

"Whatever you want! Just do this for me!!! Please!!!! 🥺😊😋"

Steve R.: "Ofc I'll do it, sweetheart. I got you"

"Thank you thank you thank you 😘"

Steve R.: "I should be the one to thank you"

Steve R.: "Send me the location and I'll be over there asap"

After that, your address followed and then that was it. Determined to dig deeper, Henry started to scroll up again, wanting to find out as much as he could about this mysterious man. He didn't get a chance to lurk too much before this computer alerted him of a notification, the onlyfans tab glowing orange. His attention was instantly won, smiling devilishly as he checked the content.

Posted 30 seconds ago, was the new video. Ready to kick back and enjoy, Henry pressed the play button, ready to go at it with an open mind.

He reluctantly accepted the fact that there was another man in it with you, but he decided to enjoy it nevertheless. The video started, displaying Steve seated on the couch, thighs suggestively parted. He had a pair of black dress pants on, dangerously stretched over his massive thighs. A white, elegant shirt hugged his visibly sculpted torso, the top two buttons undone to show just a hint of chest hair. Quite a sight, but all Henry saw was trash. With his sleeves rolled up to his elbows, a silver watch on his wrist and a pinky ring on, Steve patted his thigh, cueing your entrance.

When Henry saw you, he felt his breath reach a new, sudden level of difficulty. With the shortest of skirts barely managing to cover your ass and a mostly see-through shirt on your top half, you made your way to him in such an angelic way that Henry couldn't believe his eyes.

You looked like happiness personified, and it came in such a painful contraction to what you were about to do, that it twisted Henry's mind in such a perverse way, his cock nearly twitched just by seeing you.

When you were about to bend over Steve's thigh, he grabbed your chin and stopped you mid action, his lips slamming against your as his free hand lewdly caressed your ass. He flung the skirt over your hips, your flimsy underwear on full display.

Attentive to the events unfolding on the screen, Henry found his cock, teasingly rubbing it over the material of his pajama pants. His mouth watered when he felt the sensibility in his tip, actually believing this would be easier than he initially anticipated.

"Are you going to be Daddy's good little girl, or do I have to make this fucking hurt?" Steve asked and Henry almost threw up.

"Yes, Daddy. I'll be good" you mewled, wiggling your feet.

"Let's see" the man menacingly chuckled, releasing a sharp slap against your ass that made you yelp out in pain.

At this point, about 30 seconds in that was, Henry was already losing his mind. It was as if you took a trip inside his dreams and decided to play out his fantasies. The only problem was that you did it with another man. It was next to impossible for him to keep this going.

"Can you count?" Steve taunted, his hand traveling all over the back of your thighs, your exposed ass and between your legs.

"Yes, Daddy" you eagerly nodded and Henry almost threw up.

"I wouldn't be surprised if a dumb slut like you didn't know how to" Steve chuckled, "But it's ok, that's how we like our girls. Dumb and pretty"

"Thank you, Daddy"

Henry couldn't believe his eyes. He refused to accept the fact that a random man got to play with your innocence like that. You were his sweet little girl. And if until now he pushed through heroically, when literal yelps of pain started erupting from your lips as the blonde man slapped your ass hard enough to rock your whole frame, Henry's blood ran cold.

But no matter how hard the jealousy had hit him, the video was still pushing his limits of self control. It was still what he always wanted to see. When he reached inside his pants and grabbed his cock, a low grunt of early satisfaction left his lips. He once again found himself picturing you, willing to please him, but this time, he didn't get to go too far. The buzzing sound of his doorbell rang through his apartment, and he never stood up faster.

Cock still hard and completely visible through his pants, Henry slapped the pause button and minimized the browser, before springing to his feet and rushing to the door.

"Henry!" you exclaimed as soon as he came into view. He looked somehow tired, but it was easy to tell there was something else bothering him. "You didn't answer your phone" you pouted.

"Yeah, sorry" he shook his head, a few sweaty curls falling against his forehead. "I was busy with something. What's up?"

You raised your eyebrows and pointed to the door of your apartment, "You said you'd come over? Coffee? Remember?"

"Oh, shit, yeah" Henry cringed, rubbing his forehead. "I'll be over in 10 minutes, that ok?"

"Sure" you beamed, completely oblivious to the way he just tried to get rid of you. With utter nonchalance, you pushed your way past him and strolled into the kitchen.

"You wanna wait here?" he muttered.

"Yeah... Is that a problem? I can leave..."

"No, no" Henry eventually sighed and rushed over to you. He cupped your cheeks and kissed your forehead. "Wait here, I'll be right back"

And that was what you did. You silently sat down, grabbing a bag of chips you found laying around, and settled to wait. And maybe, a few seconds passed where nothing devious came to mind, but as time ticket itself away, boredom got to you. First you stood up, and padded to the hallway, looking around. There was almost nothing new over there, but it still felt so homey you absolutely loved to inspect every detail. The TV in the living room was turned off, a couple of pizza boxes on the floor and his DVD cases laying around - absolutely nothing interesting.

You sighed and plopped down on his couch, folding your legs under your body, ready to flip through the channels on TV until he'd decide to join you. Nothing seemed of interest, being bombarded with news and fishing programs. "Old man" you thought to yourself, before opening up the menu in search for something less depressing. A wave of nostalgia hit you when you came across a Spiderman marathon, and you were done for. Maybe one full episode passed until Henry walked out of the bathroom, but you were nowhere near ready to leave.

"Look what's playing!" you beamed, pointing to the screen. Henry raised his eyebrows in amusement, his shoulders shaking as he softly laughed at your unusual choice of entertainment.

"Are you serious? Cartoons?"

"Yes!" you scoffed, extending your arms and gesturing for him to join you. Although reluctant at first, Henry agreed to sit and watch the show with you, but not before brewing some coffee first.

When he returned from the kitchen, two steaming mugs in tow, you shuffled to the side and welcomed him on the couch. He brought you close against him, draping his arm around your body. With your head resting on his shoulder, you sipped your coffee, eyes glued to the TV. "You seriously never watched these as teen? You were 11 when it came out."

"I did" Henry laughed, rubbing his hand up and down your side, "I was in love with Felicia Hardy"

"MJ was so much better!" you shook your head disappointed, "You have no taste"

"No need for that" Henry threatened, his fingers exploring their way down your body. The way he trailed his hand across your hips and thighs made you squirm, smiling to yourself as you shuffled closer to him.

Henry was more than happy to reciprocate, kissing your forehead and squeezing you tighter.

And just like that, you didn't care about Spiderman anymore. You flung your leg over Henry's lap, all but crawling on top of him. The episode was still playing in the background, but none of you was paying attention anymore. Henry wrapped his muscular arms around your frame, eliciting a soft moan from your lips as you pushed your hips down against his thigh. His hands traveled lower, exploring your body with delicate but greedy strokes.

As you let yourself get carried away with absolutely no worry in mind, Henry knew exactly what he was doing. And considering how easily you let your guard down, he had you right where he wanted.

When you hid your face in the crook of his neck, your nose rubbing across the slope of his collarbone, Henry's right hand found your ass. You froze for a second, but his gentle caress helped you relax again in an instant. With his lips against the top of your head, he allowed his fingers to sink into your flesh. Your whole frame stiffened as you gathered a handful of his hoodie into your fist.

"What's wrong?" Henry cooed, grabbing your chin, "You ok?"

"Yep" you whimpered, and then winced again as he squeezed your ass once more. "I'm good-" you lied, cupping the side of his neck into your palm as you crawled higher up his body, your lips right against his ear.

As weak as he was for you, Henry stood his ground. If you wanted to play this game, he'd do it, but he wouldn't let you win.

"Does this hurt?" he asked, roughly groping your ass.

Jumping slightly from the pain, you still managed to shake your head, blurting out another lie. "... no"

"What about this?" Henry teased, grinning widely as he shoved his hands inside your leggings, under your panties.

The urgency of his touch made your eyes open wide, your back arching as you tried to push yourself off of him.

"Does it hurt, darling?" he continued, keeping you in place with ease.

Defeated, you sighed and lowered your gaze, "A bit" you mumbled.

"Just a bit?"

"Henry-"

"Did he fuck you good?"

Your mouth fell open. "What- no, I didn't- we didn't do anything-"

"Didn’t do anything?" Henry grinned, his perfect teeth showing as he proudly pried information out of you.

"I just... fuck-"

Seeing no way out of this one, and eager to stop hiding, you pushed yourself back. Henry's hands left your body as you sat beside him, and he watched you curiously, patiently waiting for you to word your thoughts. "I just filmed a video for my page, that's all" you bowed your head.

"What kind of video?" Henry questioned.

His demeanour was so relaxed, he was right in his element, unlike you, who were riled up to the extreme. "A spanking video-" you cleared, awkwardly fidgeting with the hem of your shirt.

"Did he spank you good?"

His hand found your hips again, and you leaned into his touch, nodding your head yes as you were too embarrassed to actually word your answer.

"Then show me"

He was dominant and stern, and even if you wanted to, you felt like saying no wasn't an option. Henry didn't wait for your permission as he grabbed your waist and pulled you up to your knees, chuckling softly to himself when he saw you shyly smile down at him.

His fingers curled around the waistband of your leggings, forcefully pulling them down your thighs. "Come on" he urged you, softly guiding you to lay down across his lap, your ass barely covered by the pinkish and slightly unflattering underwear you had chosen for the day.

Henry's breathing picked up at the sight, and so did yours. You watched him over your shoulder, his fingers tracing over the bruises Steve left on your bum the night before.

"Henry-?" you whimpered, the anticipation building up in the pit of your stomach becoming too much to bear.

"Yes, darling?" he cooed, leaning down to the side to kiss your cheek. His stumble tickled your skin and you whimpered when his hand made its way between your legs.

You felt his fingers against your opening and involuntarily clenched your thighs around him, hiding your face in the cushions of below your head.

"Tell me" Henry pushed, teasing your folds and clit over your underwear.

"Nothing, I-" you cried, making him chuckle.

He loved giving you a taste of your own medicine. He straightened himself up and grabbed your ass into his hands, squeezing until you yelped out in pain. A soft laughter of approval escaped his throat as he bent down and pressed his lips to one of your cheeks, applying lingering kisses over each and every single bruise.

The way he took control of the situation and handled your body, turned you on to no end. For whatever reason, being exposed like that for him, waiting for any kind of judgement to leave his lips, you were getting more and more riled up by the second. You were done for. You did your best not to moan with need, but little did you know that was exactly what kept you from being thrown onto the floor and fucked into oblivion. Just one single sign was all you needed in order to break his self control, but you didn’t have it in you to do it.

But he didn’t say anything, instead just keeping you on your toes as he had his way. You were dripping through your underwear, and judging by the bulge in his pants that pushed up against your belly, you knew he was on the same page as you. But again, he didn’t allow things to go further. Everything about this moment pointed in the right direction - the teasing, the touching, you were all but whimpering in his lap, but he cut the moment short with a sharp slap against your ass before he helped you up. Henry acted as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened as he pulled your leggings back up, but this glare became colder when he found your eyes.

He bent down and spoke into your ear, "He could've done a better job"

Completely under his spell, you bit your lip and furrowed your eyebrows. "I don't think I would have been able to take any more"

"That's not what I said" Henry shook his head.

"Look at you being an expert" you teased, relishing in the fact that he seemed eager to keep things going.

"All I'm saying is that if you had asked someone else-" Henry laughed, stroking your cheek, "Things would have turned out much more different"

"Oh" you pouted, ready to tease him further. "Who should I have asked-"

Just when you started getting comfortable and confident enough to push things further, Henry's phone rang. "I don't have to take that" he shook his head when he heard you stopped talking.

"Just see who it is" you giggled, slapping his shoulder.

Before doing so, Henry grabbed your chin and kissed your forehead, his touch drawing you in like a magnet as you leaned into him when he pulled away. With a sigh, you eventually crawled off his lap and then your face fell with disappointment when Henry showed you the screen of his phone.

"Yeah?" he huffed after picking up, his boss being the last person he wished to talk to right now.

You watched him closely as he listened to whatever the man was saying, and almost whined out loud when Henry frowned annoyed.

"I'll call you back in 5, ok?" he asked and after a couple of seconds hung up.

"I'm so sorry-" Henry sighed, turning to you, "I gotta go take this, there's a problem with one of the radars, I need to go see if I can fix it remotely"

"Sure thing" you shook your head. "But please tell me you don't have plans tonight"

"I don't" Henry leaned towards you and again, kissed your forehead. As much as you loved the sweet gesture, it was now more than ever that you craved something else entirely.

"And please don't forget about me again" you giggled, grabbing his biceps and stopping him from leaving without a promise.

"I won't" he sighed, "I'm really sorry about that. I'll make it up to you"

"However I want?" you beamed and licked your lips.

"Absolutely" Henry smiled, sweetly embracing you before walking you to the door.

You had his word now, and you were planning on making it count. There was no way either you or Henry would act as if nothing had happened, and you couldn't wait.

Once alone and seated at his desk, Henry opened up the text editor associated with the code he wrote months ago. When his screen was flooded with errors and his chat popped up with three different messages asking for help from his colleagues, Henry all but yelled out loud in frustration. Not only did he wish to be with you, it was also Sunday, one of his days off. But he couldn't just text the pilot of the plane whose radar went berserk and tell him to wait. So he got to work, determined to get this done as soon as possible.

But unfortunately, that 'as soon as possible' turned into 3 hours of continuous work. He didn't even stand up to go to the bathroom until he made sure everything was on point. It was about 4pm when the program started running smoothly again, and seeing how he had a few more hours to waste until he had to see you, Henry decided to make the best of them, by getting a head start on his tasks for the following day.

Productivity flowed through his fingertips as he solved the first issue he had been assigned for the day to come, getting ready to start working on the second one when a call caught his attention. He didn't recognize the ring tone, and it only dawned on him that he was still logged into your facebook account a couple of seconds after it stopped ringing.

Still curious, Henry switched the tabs on his computer, noticing that the chat with Steve, which he left open hours ago, showed that there was an ongoing video call. His jaw fell. Henry tightened his hands into fists, fuming with anger. First as you for doing this, and then at himself for allowing you to believe this was an ok thing to do. He knew there was no way to eavesdrop on your conversation even if he had the password, but that didn't mean his curiosity died down. No, it only grew stronger.

He felt lost for a minute, but then he thought of something. On his dresser, right next to his winter gloves and under his favorite jogging hat, laid an extra set of keys. Henry remembered the day you gave them to him, saying something along the lines of 'I feel much safer knowing that if something were to happen, you could always get to me, Henry.' and then remembered how you stuffed them in his pocket, and kissed his chest before stepping back. Such different times.

There was no trace of hesitation inside his mind as he grabbed the keys and made his way out of his home. He passed the hallway in less than a second and pressed his ear to the door. It was perfectly quiet, and through the peephole, he couldn't see any light. You weren't in the kitchen or living room, so he felt confident enough. After putting his phone on vibrate, Henry ever so gently pushed the key inside, turning it inside the lock with the most meticulous movement his wrist could muster. The sound of the door knob being turned was so faint he barely even heard it, but his pulse skyrocketed when he heard the click that signaled the door was finally open.

With small, careful steps, he made his way inside. The entire apartment was dark and quiet as he made his way in, stopping just outside your bedroom as the relaxed, deep voice of a stranger became audible through the wall. “Trust me, sweetheart. Just relax, I got you. You’re all tense, I can see it from here. You know I have more experience with this than you do, just do as I say”

With one hand on the doorknob of your bedroom, Henry was ready to put an end to this whole charade. He knew he might regret it later, but he didn't care. The image of a so called friend, pushing you to do anything that you seemed to have clearly stated your discomfort about, flipped a switch inside his brain. There was no stopping him because no one, no one got to push you around like that. Not while he could do anything about it.

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill fics #august walker x reader #geralt of rivia x reader #walter marshall x reader #ahh #a helping hand

1K notes · View notes

pftones3482 · 3 years

Text

One of the commissions I'm doing for @randomfandomfan ft Hurt/Comfort Adrinino. Find it on my AO3 here.

Set post Rocketear and pre any kind of romantic relationship (tho it's hinted at). This was already a fic I wanted to write, and one of the prompts they sent me fit the concept almost perfectly, so I ran with it.

Under a cut for length.

“It’s your fault.”

Nino jumped about a foot in the air, whirling from where he’d been shutting his door with his phone pointed menacingly at the source of the voice. His backpack smacked him in the hip, knocking him off kilter, and he stumbled, bracing himself on the doorknob. His eyes scanned the room slowly, shoulders easing when he didn’t spot anyone. “Hello?”

“What are you, dense, kid?” scoffed the voice again, from right in front of him, and Nino squeaked at an embarrassing pitch when he registered the Kwami floating there.

The Kwami.

A black cat Kwami.

Nino dropped his defensive (if somewhat undignified) stance, staring at what was definitely Chat Noir’s Kwami. “Um. You’re not supposed to be here.”

The cat’s eerily green eyes rolled. “Wow. Intelligent.”

Nino spluttered, feeling awkward. “W-Well I’m sorry, dude, how do you expect me to react!” he demanded, throwing his hands up in the air. Something like ice settled in his gut as the Kwami’s existence finally clicked. “W-Wait, why are you here? What happened?”

“You happened,” the Kwami snapped, and uh. Okay. Not what Nino wanted to hear right now.

“What?”

“YOU. Do you have any idea how much you upset him? How much you hurt him the other day? He won’t say it, Nino, but he’s hurting. He’s been hurting, and you unloaded on him and beat him and told him how awful he was and if you weren’t his best friend and I didn’t think you were the only one who could help right now, you’d be in a pile of rubble.”

Um.

Holy shit.

Nino had never heard a Kwami so pissed. Wayzz could get a little condescending sometimes, and Ladybug had admitted that her Kwami could be a little snarky (as could Trixx, as Alya had confirmed time and time again). But never had he seen a Kwami literally shaking in rage.

He’d be more terrified if the cat’s words weren’t sinking in.

“Hang on, hang on, dude,” Nino said, crossing his arms in an “x” through the air. “Is this about Rocketear? I apologized, I-I thought me and Chat were okay. Also like, I respect the guy, but he has no idea who I am, dude, we’re not best friends.”

“Had,” the cat spit out. “He had no idea who you were.”

Nino’s stomach swooped out from under him and he gripped his desk chair tightly to keep from tripping. “What?”

The Kwami gave him a smug, if not irritated, smile. “You told him yourself.”

“D-During…when I was fighting him?” Nino squeaked. “N-No, I saw the footage, I didn’t tell him I’m Carapace!”

The cat softened. “Before, Nino. Before you were akumatized.”

“I didn’t-”

“Of course, when Ladybug appears, he throws himself to her feet with roses and love confessions!”

Fuck.

“But he is always rejected, because Ladybug thinks that he’s annoying. And she is COMPLETELY right!”

Oh, fuck.

“I know because I’m also a superhero. I’m Carapace.”

“Shit.”

Nino fumbled for his desk chair, sinking into it hard and banging his elbow on the back. The pain was almost numbing. He put his head in his hand, pushing his hat back off his head and staring blankly at the wall.

“Oh my god, dude, I-?”

“Yeah.”

The Kwami sounded almost sad this time, and that, somehow, was worse than him threatening to kill Nino.

He didn’t really remember being akumatized, until the end, when Alya broke him from Shadowmoth’s hold. And despite warnings from his friends, he’d watched the footage from his akumatization. Even without Alya recording, someone usually was, and the footage was always online by the end of the day.

He knew what he’d done to Chat Noir.

He’d seen the way he dropped his baton, a sign of surrender. The way Rocketear hadn’t hesitated to push him back with everything he had, pounding him again and again and again into that van, how he’d grabbed him by the head and slammed him backwards like-

“Nino!”

The Kwami’s paw was gentle on his wrist and Nino shuddered, scrubbing at his eyes furiously and dislodging his glasses. “Oh my god, oh my god, where is he?” he choked out. “I-I need to find him right now, Kwami dude, I-I can’t believe I-”

“Plagg,” the Kwami offered, his scratchy voice easing Nino from his panic. “And it wasn’t you, kid.”

“B-But it was, that’s the worst part,” Nino whispered, standing and pacing now. “I hated him, I hated him so much I – oh my god, he tried to tell me.” He laughed, bitter, holding his hands together behind his head. “He tried to tell me Alya and Chat didn’t have a thing and I-”

“Nino,” Plagg interrupted. “He’s on the roof.”

Nino stopped, blinked at him. “He’s what.”

Plagg nodded upwards, his antenna bobbing. “On the roof. Been there every night for the last week.” His voice lowered. “He wanted to talk to you, but he’s too scared.”

“He’s on the…he’s on my roof?”

Nino scrambled around his room, grabbing a jacket and an extra hoodie before reaching out, snatching Plagg, and shoving him into his hat. He froze a millisecond later. “Um. Please don’t cataclysm me for that, dude.”

Plagg’s chuckle was more like a purr. “Please. As if I’d need to use all that on just you.”

Nino supposed he should be insulted, but with everything he now knew, he couldn’t find it in himself to care. It was nearly one am – he’d been out late studying with Alya – so now he crept from his room and to the front door, hopeful not to wake his family. Grabbed his key off the hook by the entrance, and then eased the apartment door shut behind him.

It was only one flight up to the roof access, usually locked, but Nino had come up here with Alya more times than he could count, so he knew that if you wiggled the lock just right, it would come undone on it’s own. They’d oiled the hinges ages ago so that it didn’t scream every time it was opened, and now it was silent as Nino pushed it up and stared over the flat top.

Adrien was silhouetted in the moonlight, precariously close to the edge, and it made Nino’s breath hitch. He pushed the door all the way open and clambered up onto the roof as quietly as possible, easing the hatch shut again before turning back to his best friend and slumping.

Best friend.

God, how could he have-?

“You didn’t know,” Plagg whispered, gentler than Nino had expected him to be. The Kwami zipped from his hat, hovering in the air next to him, and he offered Nino a grim smile. “I might hate you a little right now for what you did to him, but you didn’t know, kid.”

Nino let out a shaky breath and started the trek over to his friend, fiddling with his extra sweatshirt. The night air was chill, and he was glad he’d brought it – Adrien was in nothing but short sleeves.

“All week, huh?” he murmured, watching as Adrien jumped a little, fingers tightening on the edge of the roof. “Could’ve just called, dude.”

Adrien twisted, lips parting. “How did you know I was-?”

His eyes landed on Plagg and a squeak slipped from his mouth as his hand shot to his shirt pocket. It wouldn’t have been funny if he hadn’t gone so pale.

So Plagg hadn’t told him he was telling Nino. Interesting.

“Y-You can’t-! You told-?”

“You’ve been here all week, Adrien,” Plagg snapped. “You weren’t gonna tell him, I was. You need a cheese in your corner.”

Nino had no idea what that meant, but he couldn’t stop staring long enough to care.

Adrien’s eyes were tired. There was no glint in them. The circles under his eyes were deep – he must’ve been wearing makeup to school, because Nino hadn’t seen them until now. His hands were trembling, his lips were bitten raw, and Nino felt his entire heart shatter.

“I am…so sorry,” he choked out, tears spilling over. Adrien jolted, turning his gaze from Plagg to him.

“Nino-”

“No, dude, no, I-I-I…I don’t care that I didn’t know. I should never have said those things, I should never have hurt you like that, oh my god dude, I hurt you so bad, I like could have killed you, a-a-and…”

He froze, reeling, and stumbled back. Adrien got to his feet warily, holding his hands up. “Nino?”

“You were gonna let me.”

He wanted it disproved, but Adrien’s flinch told him everything. His chest seized and Nino choked on his breath. “You were gonna let me, you would’ve fucking let me, you fucking asshole how could you? Do you have any fucking idea how much I care about you dude?”

He shoved Adrien without thinking, hands firm against his shoulders, pushing him back and away from the edge. Adrien’s eyes were wide, lip trembling, and Nino pushed him again, closer to the center of the roof, this time forcing the sweatshirt into his grasp. Adrien clung to it, lips parted, and Nino dragged his hands through his hair, pacing as Adrien shrugged the sweatshirt on. He’d left his hat downstairs, he registered somewhere in the back of his mind.

“Oh my god,” he choked out. “I-I…I’m so sorry dude. I’m so sorry, your dad, and then school, and modelling and your stupid model diet and then you’re a literal superhero and I’m supposed to be your best friend and I didn’t even…”

“You weren’t saying them about me,” Adrien whispered. “I know that.”

Nino spun to face him, vision blurry. “If you knew that you wouldn’t have been on my roof every night for the last week working up the nerve to talk to me. If you knew that you wouldn’t have thrown down your weapon and let me beat you to-”

He cut himself off with choked cry and he rushed at Adrien, clinging to him with a force he didn’t know he possessed. He cradled his friend’s head gently, heart sinking for a moment until he felt Adrien’s hands lift to settle tentatively on his back.

“I don’t hate you,” he whispered into Adrien’s ear. Nino swallowed, throat aching. “I don’t hate you, and I don’t hate Chat Noir. I was mad. A-And that’s not an excuse for what I said, and I’m so sorry. I’ve never hated Chat Noir, dude. He was always my favorite. I just…”

“You were upset,” Adrien finished, soft.

“Jumped to conclusions,” Nino corrected. “I was jealous of Alya keeping stuff from me, and I jumped to conclusions, and I hurt you, shit I-I hurt you, I-”

“I’m okay, Nino. It’s okay.”

“It’s not okay,” Nino croaked, tightening his grip. Something in him breathed easier when Adrien tightened his own back, harder, his shoulders starting to shake. “It’s not okay, I love you, dude. Don’t do that for me. Don’t ever stop fighting back when it’s your life at stake, I-I can’t…”

Adrien’s grip clenched in his hoodie and suddenly Nino’s neck was wet with tears. Nino carded his fingers through Adrien’s hair, turning his head just slightly to press his lips against his temple. “Talk to me, dude,” he whispered. “I’m here now, you don’t have to do this alone. Not anymore.”

“You can’t tell, Nino,” Adrien croaked. “I mean it, not even Alya. Y-You can’t. Promise me.”

“Hey.”

He pushed Adrien back, gentle, and cupped his cheeks, swiping away the tears on his skin. “I promise,” he said firmly, staring Adrien in the eyes to show he meant it. “This is too big to tell, dude.”

“You told me-”

“I trusted you,” Nino said, squeezing Adrien’s shoulders. “I was pissed, and I knew I trusted you more than anyone, and I knew you wouldn’t say anything. A-And I was wrong, dude. I shouldn’t have told Alya’s identity. Mine is one thing, but that wasn’t okay. But man, dude, you have it rough as it is, without anyone knowing you’re a superhero. I’m not telling, dude.”

Adrien swallowed, throat bobbing, and glanced behind Nino, where he presumed Plagg was floating. Plagg must have indicated something, because he slumped and gave a weak smile. “Thank you, Nino.”

Nino shook his head. “Don’t thank me. D-Don’t…not after that.”

Adrien’s hands were on his cheeks now, fingers freezing. “Hey. It wasn’t you. You might’ve been mad, but it wasn’t you. It was Shadowmoth amplifying those emotions, and you beat him. You beat him, Nino. I’m…so proud of you for that,” he whispered, voice cracking.

Nino pulled him in again, arms clinging to his back and his nose pressed into the hood of Adrien’s borrowed sweatshirt. “I’m proud of you too, dude,” he said. He felt Adrien’s grip tighten on his back. “No one ever says it. I’m proud of you. And I’m-”

“If you say sorry one more time,” Adrien croaked, laughter behind his tears, “I will personally dangle you off the Eiffel Tower by your shield.”

Nino chuckled and stepped back, tugging Adrien’s wrists gently. “Come inside,” he pleaded. “It’s cold out.”

Adrien glanced behind his shoulder, teeth worrying at his lip. “I should get home,” he said. “It’s late.”

“Then they won’t notice,” Nino said, pulling him a step further. “C’mon, dude. You’ve been by yourself for so long. I wanna hear about being Chat Noir.”

Adrien looked back to him, lips parted. The glint in his eyes was illuminated by the surrounding buildings, and something in Nino’s stomach twisted in a way he wasn’t going to question at the moment. “Really?”

“You kidding? Of course, dude.”

Adrien’s mouth slid into a tiny smile now, head tilting in that puppy-dog way only he could pull off. “Yeah. Y-Yeah, I’d like that. If you’re sure it’s-”

Nino knelt down and lifted the roof access cover, climbing onto the ladder and looking back up at Adrien with what he hoped was an inviting grin. “Dude. Just get inside already.”

Sneaking back in was harder than sneaking out, only because now he had another person in tow, but they managed to get back into his room without waking anyone (even after their quick excursion to the kitchen for a block of sharp cheddar, because Plagg was whiny). Nino shut off all the lights in his room except his desk lamp, leaving the soft glow to illuminate the corner and moving to his bed.

Adrien hesitated at the foot of it, fiddling with the sweatshirt strings on Nino’s hoodie (and Nino was ignoring how much he liked that image, that was something he could confront in the morning). “Um.”

Nino rolled his eyes and held out an arm. “Come cuddle, bro. And tell me about being the hottest bachelor in Paris.”

That got a snort from his friend, and Adrien crawled into the bed next to him, flopping against Nino’s side and leaning his head against his shoulder as Nino tucked an arm around him. “I thought I was the hottest bachelor in Paris.”

“Oh my god, you and your alter ego literally are competing for the same spot, that’s so fucking funny,” Nino cackled, keeping his voice low so he didn’t wake Chris next door.

Adrien chuckled and then fell quiet, and Nino traced a circle on his arm, feeling the mood shift. “Wanna talk about what’s been going on with you and Ladybug?”

“How did you-?”

“It’s pretty obvious when you’re working directly next to the two of you. And especially now that I know it’s my best bro behind the mask? What’s up?”

Adrien went still again, and then rolled over, pressing his face into Nino’s shoulder. “Can we talk about that tomorrow?” he mumbled. “I’d rather just…hang out, for now.”

Nino tightened his grip, focused on the ceiling, and tried to quell the racing thoughts in his mind. “Of course, dude. Of course.”

Adrien’s breathing evened out, and Nino had a feeling he probably wasn’t heading home anytime soon. He didn’t care, just shifted to put his phone and glasses on his nightstand and then rolled over to hold his friend closer, smiling thinly when he instantly clung back.

Plagg was curled up on the pillow above Adrien’s head, and his cat eyes blinked sleepily as he studied Nino. “Thanks, kid.”

Nino loosened a hand and reached up, scratching the cat on the head, fully prepared to lose a finger. To his surprise, Plagg just purred and nudged up into the touch. “Thanks for breaking the rules for him,” he whispered back. “I’m sorry I put both of you through that.”

“You’re a good kid, Nino,” Plagg said, yawning and curling his tail around himself. “Stupid, but good. Wayzz likes you for a reason.”

The Kwami went quiet and started snoring, leaving Nino to flush at the compliment, run his fingers through Adrien’s hair, and fall asleep with a sense of calm he hadn’t felt in a long, long time.

#my writing #writing commissions #adrien agreste #nino lahiffe #rocketear spoilers #plagg #miraculous ladybug #ninoir #adrinino

268 notes · View notes

captain-mcdavid · 3 years

Text

three times to fall - nolan patrick

word count: 2k

smut: yes | no

summary: three times the reader realized they might have more than just friendly feelings towards nolan.

warnings: steam, swearing, alcohol (this is like the first thing i’ve written here since gpp, so bear with me, it might not be that great)

the first time

It was getting harder and harder to keep track of your group of friends in the crowded stadium, you stumbled along, your head turning left and right frantically as you looked for a familiar face.

You slowed your pace, mouth twisting in confusion when a finger hooks through your belt loop, yanking you back into a solid chest. “Watch where you’re going,” Lips graze your ear, a recognizable deep voice whispering while hands slide to rest over your hipbones, guiding you through the crowd.

You turn your head back and up to look at Nolan, his blue eyes zoned in on moving the two of you through the crowd. His hands stay solid on your waist, and the longer they sit there the hotter the skin starts to feel. You pull forward a little more, trying to distance yourself, hoping that maybe Nolan will let go, but his fingers just tighten on your skin making you picture things you really shouldn’t be picturing with one of your good friends.

Suddenly Nolan jerks you to the left, and if it weren’t for his solid grip on you, you’re sure you would have tumbled over, but thank god you’re able to stay on your feet in his presence. Just literally, though. Definitely not metaphorically. Your mind trips over almost every little thing he does.

“There she is!” You hear Leah before you see her, she appears as people clear the small corner your friends are tucked into. “Couldn’t keep up?”

She teases you and you feel the rumble of Nolan’s laughter against your back, reminding you just how close the two of you are.

Instinctively your hand lands on his wrist, and you swear you feel an actual spark.

“We’re gonna head to the exit on 170th, it’s closest to the cars.” Leah says, and you nod.

Your ears are still ringing from the music but you hear Nolan mumble, “Sure,”

And then the group keeps walking, Nolan still behind you, his hands still on your hips and you heart still beating way too fast.

What is happening?

...

the second time

Standing against the wall you watch as the other party goers do shots, acting rambunctious and carefree. A small laugh escapes you when you see Travis throw his beer can on the ground, stomping on it mercilessly for no reason.

Another wave of the loopiness that pushed you to seek space in the first place hits, so you wander down the hall, pushing into the first room with a bed.

It’s clean, but a fast clean. The type of tidying someone does when they’re in a rush. There’s hockey memorabilia everywhere, and when you see the photo on the bedside table you realize that you’re in Nolan’s room. You feel odd being in here but you slouch onto the bed anyway, feeling better as soon as you’re off your feet.

You lean to look at the pictures on the bedside table, smiling at the sly grin Nolan sports in almost everyone of the photos. Since the concert you had been thinking about him more than you should. It wasn’t normal to view a good friend like this, one that you’ve known since elementary school.

You’ve watched him grow up. And somehow you started seeing him less as the goofy kid that kicked everyone’s ass in gym class hockey, and more as a man. A hot man. With a good sense of humour and an extremely charming smile.

“Snooping?”

Your head snaps towards the door when you hear his voice, his lazy grin lets you know he’s not serious so you smirk in response, giving him a nod, your heart rate picking up.

There are a lot of things running through your head at the moment, and you’re very close to saying every single one of them, but you’d need one more shot to do that.

He runs his hand through his hair as he walks over to you, and your filter loosens enough for the words to slip out, “Can I play with your hair?”

Nolan laughs and you giggle along with him while he sits beside you on the bed. “You wanna play with my hair?”

You nod, biting your lip as you crawl menacingly towards him. His eyes widen and he inches further away, grabbing at your wrists when you try to reach for him.

“No,” He laughs, pushing you away.

You sit back on your knees and frown, “Please,”

He scans you with furrowed brows for a moment before sighing and nodding. You scoot behind him with an excited squeal, signalling his loud laugh, and a flutter of your heart.

You wouldn’t do it- any of this really- if you weren’t intoxicated, but knowing that you can blame all of your embarrassing actions on alcohol. Throwing caution to the wind you move so that your legs are on either side of him, you’re not expecting him to, but almost instinctively he leans back into you. With a grin you run your hands through his locks and he makes a fake moaning noise.

“I’m gonna braid it,” You whisper, separating the hair into three chunks. You’re surprised by how soft it feels in between your fingers. You’re focused on braid and you’re nearly halfway done when you feel a light touch on the bottoms of both of your feet. It’s an uncomfortable tickle that makes you fidgit, both your legs coming to wrap around Nolans torso.

Realizing the weirdness of it all you’re about to move your legs but Nolan holds them there. “What are you doing?” You ask, wiggling your feet in his lap.

Nolan stands suddenly and you gasp, grabbing his shoulders quick so the other half of you doesn’t fall behind. “Nolan put me down!”

He spins maniacally squeezing your calves relentlessly while you shake with laughter. You jerk one leg free finally nearly falling when it hits the ground. Nolan drops your other leg and you use all your strength to shove him. You’re expecting more than him just lazily falling onto the bed, but that’s all you get despite what you though was an impressive output of strength. “Asshole,” You murmur, moving closer to push at his chest, but he catches your wrist with a smirk, yanking you right into him.

You’re nearly chest to chest, and you’re extremely confused as to what’s going on but you let it happen anyway, moving easily as he guides you to straddle his lap. You have a staring contest for a minute, but the look in his eyes is so intense you need a break, so you reach your hands into his hair again, running your nails along his scalp. His eyes flutter shut, hands coming to rest in the back belt loops of your jeans.

“Nolan,” You whisper, and it sounds like a question, cause you’re seriously wondering what the hell is going on.

He opens his eyes and hums a response, one of his hands moving from your back to your face. His thumb catches your bottom lip and he sweeps it down, watching the way it moves.

Your heart is no longer beating steadily at this point, because you can’t believe that this is happening. But it is, and he’s definitely leaning in closer. When he kisses you the first time it’s gentle, so soft you’re not even sure it actually happened. Your lips mould together lightly, almost like he’s afraid of your reaction.

When he pulls back and your eyes flutter open, lips still parted he stares back, his gaze flickering between your own and your mouth. You swear you see the slate color in his eyes darken before he connects your lips again, harder and more urgent this time.

His lips are so soft and inviting, the way they work with your own makes you feel like your entire body is buzzing. His tongue licks into your mouth and you instinctively lean into him, your hands sliding down to the naps of his neck. Tugging lightly at the hair you slide your other hand below the fabric of his flannel and t shirt, trying to get as close as possible.

Nolan pushes at your bum, queuing a roll of your hips against him. The low moan that your movement entices has you pulling away with a gasp, fuck he’s hot.

You observe him with wide eyes, his swollen lips and heaving chest. He tilts your chin up forcefully, exposing your neck. He bites into the skin gently, and you want nothing more than to lean back in and kiss the life out of him, but sober you is fighting for the steering wheel, which is why you blurt out, “What are we doing?”

“Making out,” He mumbles, words muffled against the skin of your neck.

“Just making out?” You reply, your hand gripping harder at his hair. You’re like pushing him into you, but he doesn’t seem to mind.

“Do you want me to do more?” He whispers, pressing his lips right below your ear.

“More...?” It comes out breathy, you’re totally engrossed in what his mouth is doing.

“Yeah,” He starts, kissing down the column of you neck before dragging his tongue back up. “More.”

A loud moan escapes you at his actions, and he chuckles against your skin. “I’m gonna take that as a yes,”

Then he’s standing up, but you’re prepared this time, holding onto him easily. His teeth are dragging across your collarbone now, while he strides across the room, he kicks the door shut and then turns back to drop you onto the bed.

His lips travel down your neck and chest, and when his hands slide up the fabric, and just when he’s about to pull it off, the door busts open, almost as fast as it just closed.

“Nolan!” Travis yells, completely oblivious to the fact that he’s literally on top of you. “Beer pong, let’s go.” And then he leaves.

The room goes silent and all you and Nolan can do is stare at eachother, the earlier moment completely ruined.

“Uh...”

“I should um-,” Nolan starts, and you nod, frozen underneath him. He just nods and then stands from the bed, looking back and forth between you and the door before he nods awkwardly and then leaves.

What is happening?

...

the third time

“We are not watching that!” Rachel barks, yanking the DVD case from Nolan’s hand.

“Slap shot is a classic, but fine.” He grunts, flopping down onto the couch beside you.

You shift away from him a little, still not sure how to act. More chatter ensues, and you give input every once in a while, rolling your eyes at your friends incapability to choose a movie. Finally, someone decides on the Avengers, and not everyone is happy of course, but the opening credits start to roll anyways.

Ignoring the five people already on the couch, Rachel parks herself directly in the middle, squishing everyone up against each other, groans and swears are heard from all of you but Rachel just waves you off, making you roll your eyes.

You feel Nolan shift beside you, turning so he’s more on his side giving you a little more space. “Here,” He mumbles, hand finding your leg and adjusting you so you were in the same position, your back pressed to his front. He’s practically spooning you, your right shoulder pressed to the back of the couch. You’re stiff against his body, and it’s like he can feel it, cause he rubs his hand back and forth against your thigh.

You haven’t talked about what happened at his party, and Nolan seems to be acting like nothing has happened, but you can’t brush it off that easy. Not after all these feelings you’ve been having.

To your surprise he doesn’t move his hand, it stays in it’s place a few inches above your knee. Leah chucks a blanket over the herself and the two of you, making Nolan’s very noticeable PDA less noticeable.

As the movie starts, your friends chatter and jost at eachother, but it dies down eventually, everyone quieting to watch the action.

You eventually relax too, leaning back into Nolan instinctively, your eyes drooping the longer the movie plays.

At some point the noise around you mutes completely, Nolan’s warmth and steady breathing lulling you to sleep.

You don’t wake until the movies over, your friends all nudging on the couch to get up.

You shift, trying to appear less groggy but then a hand slides from your leg to your waist, and Nolan pulls you back against him.

“Tired?” His low voice rumbles behind you, and maybe it’s that you’re still tired, or maybe it’s that you just want to feel him behind you, but you nod, leaning even further back.

He chuckles, his head falling to rest on yours. And then your friends turn to face you all cuddled up, and the both of you are straightening up immediately.

You stand, trying to hide the blush on your cheeks. “Good movie,” You say, and everyone laughs.

“Oh please, you watched maybe five minutes of it,” Leah quips, and you make a face back.

“Ready Nolan?” Trevor asks, pulling his keys out of his pocket.

Everybody else heads to the door as well, giving hugs on the way out.

Nolan reaches out to give you a one armed hug before he walks out the door, and it’s so quick you almost miss the way he kisses the corner of your mouth, winking before he walks out.

You’re left standing there in complete shock, which seems to be a very common emotion when you’re around Nolan lately.

And all you can think is what is happening?

#nolan patrick #nolan patrick imagine #nolan patrick one shot #nhl #nhl imagine #nhl one shot #hockey #hockey imagine #philidelphia flyers #philadelphia flyers imagine

562 notes · View notes

sageinacage · 3 years

Note

that beginning part in tubbos vlog where tommy just towers infront of him got me thinkingggg ,,

summary: tommy figures out that towering over tubbo menacingly makes him flustered a/n: THE VLOG IS LITERALLY SO GOOD I WAS DYING WHEN JACK HAD THE WIG ON warnings: swearing w/c: 1.1k

timestamps of tommy towering tubbo: 1, 2

“Promise you’ll pay for everything today!”

“Wh- no!”

Tommy huffed, broadening his shoulders and towering over the shorter boy, slowly striding towards him. Tubbo’s eyes widened before breaking into small nervous giggles, backing up as Tommy continued to walk to him.

They both broke out into laughter, Tommy dropping the act and going back to be distracted by all the things on the wall at the store. Tubbo shook his head, trying to ignore the butterflies that just exploded in his belly.

During the whole shopping trip, it was hard for Tubbo to concentrate with how teasy and playful Tommy was acting. It was fine until he started chasing him again at the clothes store. Tubbo was convinced Tommy knew what he was doing, and he was right.

No one knows Tubbo better than his own best friend, and both he and Tommy knew that. So what better way to bond is there instead of messing with your best friend? None. It’s the best.

“Stohop- stop chasing me! Tohommy!” Tubbo backed up as nervous laughter bubbled out through his pleads, Tommy staring at him and continuing to tower over his friend. “I hate you,” Tubbo grumbled when he turned around to back to what he was doing, earning an eyebrow raise from Tommy.

“Hmmm?” He hummed, crossing his arms. “I didn’t say anything!” Tubbo protested, the other just rolling his eyes.

It was around an hour later until they returned to Jack’s house to hang out. They decided to play Wii Sports because Tommy always got a little too competitive at Mario Kart. “Are you ready for some baseball, lads?” Tommy devilishly giggled, putting the strap of the remote around his wrist.

“Are you ready to lose, bitch boy?” Tubbo smiled, standing up to stand next to him. Jack just rolled his eyes, scrolling on his phone in the background on the couch. “BITCH- I’m cracked at Wii baseball!” Tommy retorted, looking at the screen.

It was around 10 minutes after the game ended, and Tubbo beat Tommy by a landslide. “HAHA! I mean I did ask you if you were ready to lose!” He snickered, dropping the remote on the coffee table.

Tommy muttered something, placing his remote next to Tubbo, and quickly broadening up again. “Not again- Tohohom!” Tubbo whined when he began to slowly chase him again. “Yes.” Is all Tommy said, going on his tippy toes to tower over his friend more.

“Oh no, the ‘Tower of Tommy’ has returned.” Jack joked, smiling at his statement as he scrolled on his phone. Tommy’s evil glare turned smugger as he liked that title, the ‘Tower of Tommy.’ He thought it suited what he was doing quite well.

“Yohou’re so scary- stohohap!” He laughed, tripping over a chair behind him and landing right into it. Tommy fought off his smile, towering over the chair that Tubbo was now cornered in. He immediately curled up and put his hands out to defend himself.

“You can’t protect yourself, Tubs!” Tommy laughed, before wrestling with his friend to try to get him to uncurl out of his little ball of protection. “Yehes I ca-HAHAHAN! NO!” Tubbo shrieked as Tommy’s fingers got past his ‘protection,’ poking and prodding near his lower ribs.

“You can? You sure, mate?” He sneered, reaching his other hand to the other side of his ribs to vibrate into the bones. “NAHAHahah! Tohohommy, yohou bihitch!” Tubbo squealed as the sensations tingled throughout his full ribcage, his laughter turning squeaky at the phantom tickles it brought.

“I’m not a bitch, you are!” Tommy grumbled, moving his fingers to skate over his tummy, earning surprised high-pitched giggles from the boy. “Nohot theheHEHEHRE!” Tubbo protested, hiding his red face into his hands as he shook his head. “Hmm, I like it here, so I think I will stay here.” Tommy sassed, chuckling as Tubbo let out a small whine in response.

“YOHOHOU SUHUHUCK!” Tubbo cackled, throwing his head back as he weakly pushed at Tommy’s mischievous hands. His hands found their way under his hoodie and started scribbling at the ticklish skin around his belly button. “NOOOOHEHEHAHAHHAHA- TOHOHOM!” He convulsed, kicking his legs in protest.

“What’s wroooong? Scared I’ll do… this?!” Tommy devilishly grinned before dipping his finger into Tubbo’s belly button, earning a high-pitched screech from the boy. “I’LL DIHIHIHIEEEE, PLEHEHEASE!” He begged, screaming as his best friend leaned his head down to plant a raspberry right over his belly button.

Eventually, Tommy sat up with an evil smile. “You’re so ticklish, Tubs! I wonder where else…” He thought out loud, before rapidly squeezing his hands down his waist and hips, to squeeze at his thighs. “n-OOHOHOHO-” His giggle fit was quick to start up again, trying to twist away from the tickles.

“Y’know, you could easily tell me to stop if you’d like me to stop, Tubbo!” Tommy reminded him, earning an angry whine and grumble of embarrassment from the boy. “Alright, sorry then! Jeez!” Tommy jested, squeezing down his thighs to the spot right above his knee.

Tubbo shrieked, shaking his head as the sensation was unbearable, hiccups escaping through his laughing fit. “HEHEHEH! TOHOHOMMY, YOHOU’RE *snort* TEHERRIBLE!” He projected, covering his red face as snorts also escaped.

“Awe, that was so cute!” He cooed, wiggling his nails under his knees to elicit more of his snorty giggles, mumbling compliments and praises to the point they’re almost incoherent, just because Tommy doesn’t want anyone to know he’s a big softie.

“YOHOHOU’RE SO BAHAHAD- *snort* NOOOHOHO!” He managed to get out between his snorts and laughter, covering his mouth and whining each time a snort comes out of him. “Clearly I’m great if you’re laughing this much!” Tommy laughed, easing his fingers and just barely tracing around his thighs.

Tubbo’s laughter also eased with his motions, squeaky giggles continuing to pour out of his mouth at the tingles his body still had after that. “You done bullying Tubbo, Tom?” Jack wheezed, looking up at the two. “For now.” Tommy smiled, hearing a small gasp from Tubbo.

“Fohor now?!” Tubbo hid his face again, already anticipating the future tickles. “You heard me, bitch!” He laughed, standing up and leaning an elbow over the top of the chair.

“I thihink I need to avehenge myself, though… care to help me, Jack?”

“Oh, you bet.”

“No- nonono, wait, waHAIT-”

#mcyt tickle #lee!tubbo #ler!tommy #PLS WHEN TOMMY TOWERED OVER HIM IN THE VIDEO I WAS LIKE. OH.#my writing

135 notes · View notes

hoodoo12 · 3 years

Text

Ready or Not

Got a fantastic commission from @mimiscappinisideblog. She is so talented and kind I can't believe she isn't a literal angel. She managed to take some random vague idea I had and turned it into something fucking amazing. It was so fantastic, I wrote a little something to go with it, although it doesn't do the art justice.

NSFW, Beetlejuice/gen neutral reader. Sex and tentacles, together again. ❤

“So there you are baby.”

The deep growl from Beetlejuice’s throat startled you and you looked up from your book. You hadn’t been hiding; you were just lounging on your bed reading. You didn’t know he was there until tentacles appeared as if sniffing you out.

In another second, he filled the doorframe. Talon tipped fingers gripped the wood, like he was barely holding himself back. His teeth looked sharper as his tongue flicked out, snake-like, to test the air. No jacket, tie loosened, one strap of his suspenders off his shoulder--his eyes were filled with a bright, feral light as they fell on you. Involuntarily, you trembled.

“Come here, we’re gonna have some fun.”

Licking your lips with a tongue that was suddenly dry, your book fell out of your hand. As if that was a signal you were unaware of, Beetlejuice rushed you. Faster than you could react, he was atop you on the bed. Tentacles and his hands shredded your clothing, making you gasp. His tongue swiped the side of your neck and with a growl his teeth latched to the same spot. He used enough pressure that breaking skin if you struggled wasn’t a threat, it was a promise.

He was still clothed. You could feel but not see him doing something with the fabric. The sound of a zipper opening and the unmistakable chill of his cock was familiar, however.

Taking his teeth off you, Beetlejuice muttered, “I’m gonna fuck you so hard, babydoll--”

With a strength you didn’t know you had and with the element of surprise, you bucked and thrashed upward, unseating him. You growled just as deeply as he had, another thing you weren’t aware you had in you, and twisting against him, after a brief tussle, you were straddling him.

“No you’re not!” you snarled down at him, forcing his arms above his head, using your entire weight to pin him down. Somehow you’d managed to trap a majority of the tentacles present under his arms and under your legs. They ineffectually tried to wrap around your limbs.

Beetlejuice’s amber eyes were still blazing, and a smile, more savage than laughing, lifted his lips.

“Oh no?” he whispered dangerously. “What’re you gonna do about it?”

Your chest heaved. The torn remnants of your pajamas hung off you, leaving your front bare. Your nipples were so tight from the sudden chill they ached. His clothing, now rumpled and twisted awkwardly, was still on; he’d only managed to release his cock from his open trousers but not actually discard them.

His eyes narrowed menacingly. This was a risky position for you to be in. You knew it. He knew it--

“You’re not going to fuck me,” you replied, mimicking his low, dangerous tone. His upper lip lifted to show his teeth, but you continued before he could reply. “I’m going to fuck you.”

You raised your hips just enough and released one of his wrists to quickly grab his cock and hold it steady so you could drop yourself onto it with no other words or prep. He opened you up and you couldn’t help but cry out at the pleasure him filling you sent through your nerve-endings.

Neither could he.

The hand that was now free reached for you, to grab your thigh or your waist or your ass, but you grappled it back down to the mattress. Just like he’d threatened-promised, you fucked him hard, not only rocking up and down to create friction the length of his shaft but grinding with him buried balls’ deep when his moans became too hitched, indicating he was close to coming. You dragged out fucking him as long as you could as he writhed and mewled under you.

Once you even put your teeth on his neck, making him gasp and beg for a mark, “Please baby, baby, yes, oh fuck yes yes yes--”

You sucked a bruise on the spot instead of biting him. He got what you wanted to do, not the other way round.

Finally, your thighs trembling and your knees and core aching from the effort you put into fucking him, sweat dripping off you despite that Beej’s body under you never warmed, you couldn’t continue. The effort of keeping him pinned plus an overload of pleasure made you weak, and now this time when he whined that he was going to come, you didn’t push edging him any further and settled into the cradle of his pelvis so he was buried to the hilt inside you.

He came with a howl and tensed so much his body bridged, knocking you off balance. Immediately you were caught and held by his shadow mass of tentacles, gently supporting you.

They kept you in place until he’d finished emptying himself into you, then eased you down to his chest. After a moment, you wiggled to his side. The buttons on his shirt dug into your bare skin. Finally unclenching your hands from his wrists, you ran your fingers through his hair and lifted yourself up enough to kiss the mark you’d left on his neck.

“Thanks, baby,” he said.

“Thank you.”

“Did I scare you? Bursting in like that?”

You considered this. He had, but that initial fright had melted into arousal quickly. Even if it hadn’t been discussed, you knew it was an act and turned the tables. What did that say about you? Would you ever be satisfied with a human lover now?

Beetlejuice waited for your answer. The faux rage had left his eyes, softening his gaze, and now his expression was growing more and more concerned the longer you took to reply.

“You scared me, Beej,” you admitted, then added lightly, “I hope I didn’t scare you, taking over like that.”

A wide grin broke over his face and his kissed you soundly.

“Nah, babydoll. I love the games we play.”

You laughed and kissed him back.

fin!

#writing #fanfiction #fanfic based on art #other people's fine art #Beetlejuice #tentacles

136 notes · View notes

ticklishfiend · 3 years

Note

Ler!Deku and Lee!Uraraka what do you mean?

. . .

“What do you mean?” Deku asked with his head tilted like a confused puppy, growing even more curious when he noticed Uraraka’s normally pink cheeks somehow growing even pinker as she just looked at him with slightly wide eyes. He couldn’t help the twinge of a grin that formed on his face at the cute look, so he continued to pester with a chuckle. “Seriously, I wanna know!”

“Well...it’s just that, y’know, I’d love for you to help me paint my toes, really! But, uh...it’s just that- I’m, well I guess I’m just a little, y’know, uh-”

“Ticklish?” Deku asked with a smile, grinning even bigger when he saw just how adorable pink the girl in front of him got at the word. She just nodded with a cringing face, covering it up with her hands to hide her embarrassment. Deku chuckled. “Don’t be embarrassed! Everyone’s a little ticklish.”

“Maybe but...it’s still awful to admit…” Uraraka uncovered her face with a pout, bringing her knees up to her chest so she could continue painting her toes with a frown. Deku just couldn’t have that, now could he?

“Well don’t worry, I won’t go anywhere near your feet then,” Deku grinned, standing up off the couch and towards the back of the arm where Uraraka was leaning. She didn’t think anything of it at first, until she felt one finger on each side of her poke into her ribs, causing her to shriek and nearly drop her nail polish.

“AAH! Deku! Don’t you even- NOO! Ahaha stahap it! Deheheku!” Uraraka giggled and squirmed against the arm of the couch as Deku playfully squeezed her sides from behind. She shrieked when she felt the hands drift higher towards her ribs, suddenly remembering the paint she was literally still holding in her hand above the couch. “Gahaha! Quihihit! I’ll drohohop it! EHEHE NOHOHO!” She felt those hands slither up into her armpits and she clamped her arms down beside her with all her strength, wiggling and squirming and trying so hard not to get paint anywhere.

“Wow, you really are ticklish!” Deku snickered before finally slowing to a stop, understanding her concern of possibly getting paint everywhere. Uraraka caught her breath through residual giggles, watching Deku walk back around and sit down on his previous position at the other end of the couch.

She twisted the cap back on the nail polish lid and sat it down on the coffee table before turning back towards him with a pout and crossed arms. “That was totally uncalled for.”

Deku chuckled sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “Sorry! I just...really wanted to test that out,” he smiled at her shyly, and she really wished she could stay mad at him.

She squinted at him playfully, touching her toenails quickly to test and see if they were dry. They were. Perfect.

“Hey. You said everyone’s a little ticklish, right?” Uraraka smirked, bringing her hands up to wiggle menacingly in the air. Deku’s eyes went wide and he gulped, shrinking in on himself in the corner of the couch. “Sorry, Deku. I just really wanna test this out~”

. . .

tysm for the submission!! i am no longer taking requests so thanks to those who sent them in! <3

#tickle fic #tickling #tickle community #mha tickling #mha tickle #lee!uraraka #ler!deku #ler!midoriya #ticklishscumbagstarters2

52 notes · View notes

heartsywritesthethings · 3 years

Text

Missing the Other First Year

Author: GA!Anon

Summary: Spoilers for JJK Episode 5. Nobara wants Megumi to smile and take care of himself so he can actually heal following the “death” of their fellow first year. (1,159 words)

Nobara plopped down on the couch with quite a sulky Fushiguro Megumi and napping shikigami. He barely looked up at her when she dropped down and Nobara groaned in frustration. He had been like this ever since Itadori had died.

Granted, after how he had described the death, it did make sense as to why he would need some time to get over it. Having a friend rip out his own heart in front of you would definitely be a tad traumatic, but this was getting ridiculous. It had been weeks. Literal weeks of this boy just sitting around moping, not eating, hardly moving.

It definitely didn’t help that Gojo Sensei went completely MIA. Gojo seemed like the only rock that Megumi could hold onto and without that…it was like Megumi was a ghost of a person.

Sure, Nobara had given him space at first, but it was definitely concerning now and Nobara had never been good with other’s feelings, especially dealing with sadness to this degree.

“So, what are you watching?” Nobara asked awkwardly, even though it was obvious that nothing was on the television in front of them. Megumi and his shikigami both finally looked up. The black dog looked rather peeved to have been disrupted from its nap.

“Oh, did you want to watch something?” Megumi asked, feeling around the couch for the remote. “It’s over here somewhere.”

“If we watch a comedy or something, could you at least crack a bit of a smile?” Nobara groaned. “It’s not like you smiled much before…”

Megumi froze and the black dog beside him put a paw on Megumi’s lap and Nobara could swear that that thing was giving her the stink eye. Nobara cursed herself internally before shaking her head.

“Fushiguro, you are going to smile, damn it. It’s what Itadori would want and you know that too,” Nobara said and crossed her arms over her chest. Megumi looked over at her with just about the saddest look on his face.

“That’s not gonna cut it,” Nobara said with a shake of her head. She stood up from the couch and pointed at the shikigami. “Can that thing help? Like, at all? Does it do tricks?”

“He doesn’t do tricks, Nobara.” Megumi huffed and pat the black dog on the head. The shikigami’s tail wagged a little. “I’m going back to my room. Just let me know when Gojo Sensei has another task for us to do.”

Megumi got up and handed the remote over to the other first year.

“Oh, no. You’re not going to slither away like that,” Nobara said, grabbing his arm and shoving him onto the couch again. “You are not leaving this room until you smile.”

“And how exactly do you plan on doing that?” Megumi asked with a heavy sigh.

And then Nobara realized how exactly she could get the other first year to smile, even laugh.

“What are you planning?” Megumi asked, getting a bad feeling from the smirk on her face.

And suddenly, Nobara was on top of him and before he could react, her wiggling fingers dug into his sides and the sound that left Megumi’s body was almost ungodly.

“I knew it. It’s always the quiet ones that are the worst,” Nobara said smugly and pulled her hands away. Megumi’s cheeks were flushed a nice shade of pink. This was definitely another side to Fushiguro that Nobara had not seen before.

“Alright, we’re going to go through a selfcare check. If you say an answer that I don’t like, you’re gonna get it,” she said, wiggling her fingers menacingly. Megumi winced.

“You just wanted to see me smile, right?” Megumi forced a smile on his face, “There. Not get off me before I–”

Nobara dug her fingers into Megumi’s sides again. A real smile began to surface on his face and Megumi slapped a hand over his mouth.

“Oh no you don’t.” Nobara said and her evil fingers danced their ways up to Megumi’s underarms. His arms slammed down over her hands and his smile was clear as day. It was such a shocking sight that Nobara actually stopped tickling him for a moment.

Seizing this chance, Megumi shoved Nobara onto the couch and launched on top of her.

“Now wait, I was only trying to help you-hohooho!” Nobara laughed as Megumi began squeezing up and down her sides. Each squeeze got her jumping out of her skin and her feet kicked wildly behind Megumi.

“You should know better than to pick a fight you can’t win,” Megumi said, smiling smugly at Nobara’s cute little squeaks and laughs. She definitely smiled more than he did, but she had never really let loose like this before.

Nobara growled through her laughter, her hands diving under Megumi’s shirt and attacking his lower stomach.

“HA!” Megumi barked out a laugh before collapsing onto Nobara’s front…his face landing on her chest. Once he realized where he was, he tumbled off of her and landed ungracefully onto the floor. His rather useless shikigami walked over and licked him on the face.

“Now you have to buy me dinner.” Nobara huffed, her cheeks a little pink from laughing.

“I don’t have to do anything. You attacked me first,” Megumi grumbled.

“When is the last time you ate?” Nobara asked, her tone more serious than before.

Fushiguro thought about the question for a moment, then shrugged.

“Yesterday?” He answered.

Suddenly, Nobara was on top of him again and tickling all over his front. Her hands were flying so quickly over his sides, stomach, hips and ribs that it was hard to keep up.

“I told you that if I didn’t like your answer that you were going to get it,” She said triumphantly.

Megumi laughed a barking laugh, unable to control himself. He had never really been fond of his own laughter, but it was hard for him to stop himself now. She was zeroing in on all of the spots that made him weak that he could hardly shield himself, let alone cover up his mouth.

Finally, Nobara stopped and jumped off of him and out of reach.

“Now, order us some noodles,” Nobara demanded with a smug look on her face. Megumi huffed and slowly got to his feet.

“Fine, but only the ones from the nearby ramen place.” He relented.

“What? But that place isn’t nearly as nice as the one in town,” Nobara whined.

“Either those noodles or you can eat the food in the fridge from last night,” Megumi threatened, giving her a look. “Besides, Itadori liked this one better,”

~~~~~~

“A–A–Achoo!” Yuuji Itadori sneezed.

“Struggling a bit over there, Itadori? You are getting better at this.” Gojo Sensei asked, leaning over the couch at the pink-haired first year. Itadori sniffled. He looked down at the cursed stuffed animal in his arms. Thankfully, still dormant.

“I’m good. Just a sneezing fit for some reason.” Itadori shrugged.

#tickle fic #tickling #ticklish!megumi #ticklish!nobara #submission #ga!babe #fushiguro megumi #kugisaki nobara #mentioned Itadori yuuji #bestie you're so good to me I loved this #this blog has honestly become more your fics than my own fics oops

39 notes · View notes

flutteringdreams-matw · 3 years

Text

Out of Time 2/?

Sam closed her locker forcefully, spooking the poor freshman down the hall. Her parents had tried, again, to put her in some stupid beauty contest with a ridiculous amount of pink on the poster. Apparently, entering a beauty contest (even if it was to make a statement) and then winning meant more exposure for 'someone in her social standard.' She tried to argue her case, but apart from telling them it was all a ploy cooked up by an evil ghost trying to find a wife (which she couldn't do), she had to promise to at least consider it. Besides, it did have a decent scholarship that she could donate to Jazz if she managed to win (rather…. participate). Some good had to come out of her wearing that unholy colour. One thing was for certain… if this happened… the secret was going to her grave.

"What's got you in a mood?" Tucker joked as he walked toward her. A lot had changed for the trio in the past year; Tucker now stood a good few inches taller than her, but still quite lanky. His love of technology had evolved into more than just hacking, even creating a few hologram machines and working directly with the Fentons on new technology. She herself was a little taller, still very much interested in black apparel, but did try to change her wardrobe up a bit. It did irk her a bit that the boys now towered over her; she had to go to more extravagant lengths to mess with them. Tucker leaned against the lockers smirking, waiting for the Goth girl in front of him to answer.

"Parents," she said, shrugging. "Finish the homework for Lancer?"

"Which one?" Tucker asked drily. "History, English or Science?"

Sam scoffed. "Still can't believe Lancer is teaching 3 out of 4 courses this semester. Let alone having him last semester and most of last year."

Tucker sighed dramatically. "Well Sam, when you live in the most haunted city in America, people tend to pack up and leave. I still can't believe Ishiyama is teaching the Juniors now that most of the teachers quit."

Sam hummed in agreement as she looked down the hall. "Any sign of the clueless one?"

"Why, anything important to confess?" Tucker asked suggestively, wiggling his eyebrows at Sam. She frowned as she pushed the teen into a set of lockers, looking slightly red. "Geez Sam, I'm only kidding. He texted saying he'll be here soon – something about emptying the thermos." Sam nodded absently as they moved down the hallway. Tucker followed her with a frown. "You know I'm not pushing you to do anything right?" he asked, uncharacteristically genuine in his teasing. "Tell Danny whenever you want, but you can't just repress your feelings forever, no matter how Goth you think it is. I just want you guys to be happy."

Sam smiled gratefully at her friend. "Thanks Tuck." They walked in silence, observing Dash and his football cronies tag team putting a couple freshmen into lockers.

Tucker rolled his eyes as he adjusted his beret. "I definitely don't miss that," he said.

"Shame, I'm sure it would be a fun experiment to see if you still fit into one of these little metal boxes," Sam joked darkly. Tucker elbowed her.

"Hey! I'm just glad Danny's ghost fighting muscles made Dash wary about picking on us. I mean, it still sucks for them but I'm glad I only have to worry about ghosts beating us up now."

Sam rolled her eyes at that. "Your priorities astound me," she said sarcastically.

"Sam! Tuck!"

Both teens whirled around to see Danny bounding down the hallway, backpack half open as he ducked past some students. They watched, half amused, as he tripped slightly, regaining his balance and came to a stop in front of them, breathing heavily.

"Morning," Tucker said flippantly. "Good to see you made it before the bell. Long night?"

Danny smiled wryly. Standing to his full height (which Sam only vaguely noticed was almost the same height as Tucker's), he grabbed his backpack and brought it forward, zipping it closed. "Yeah, I overslept and needed to empty the Box Ghost and Skulker into the zone. I can't believe I made it in on time!"

"I'm sure Lancer will say the same thing," Tucker quipped.

"I resent that!" Danny retorted. "I've been on time 4 out of 5 times a week this school year. Gonna end the year on a high." Danny had been grateful to his parents on taking most of the ghosts during the day while he was at school to avoid the amount of absences he racked up. He still handled most of the big ghosts or attacks nearby, but it was nice to have a backup that didn't involve someone trying to waste him.

"So why'd you oversleep anyway – ghost trouble?" Sam asked. The trio used their lack of popularity to speak openly enough in the halls.

Danny shrugged, not quite meeting her eye. "Just a nightmare," he said as they started to head for homeroom. "Didn't get back to sleep for a while so I did Lancer's homework instead."

Sam and Tucker both frowned worriedly. "Another one?" Tucker asked.

"Yeah," Danny said. Sam noticed that he was trying to push through the topic; her brow furrowed as she recognized his tell. "I remember bits and pieces mostly, but nothing concrete." Out of nowhere, Sam grabbed him by the collar and put him up against the lockers. Bewildered, Danny looked down into the accusing violet eyes of his best friend. "Sam!? Wha-"

"Liar," she accused, pointing her finger threateningly. "Was it like the others?" Danny started to make excuses, but she moved her finger in front of his nose and poked him. "Don't play hero right now. Was it like the other dreams?" Some passers-by stopped to watch the commotion, but once seeing it was Sam and Danny, they shrugged and walked by.

Danny looked at Tucker for assistance, but found that he got no sympathy from his best friend. Tucker was also watching him carefully, concerned but fully supportive of Sam's current interrogation technique. Tucker tilted his head, silently repeating the question.

Danny sighed heavily, making Sam release the boy from her vice grip. "Different images this time," Danny admitted, "Felt the same when I woke. Didn't feel like a dream."

"Dude, you need to tell Ethelwulf," Tucker told him.

Danny shook his head. "Not yet," he said, confusing his friends. "It was definitely just a dream. I'm just thinking about it too much and it's making it worse. I'll tell him eventually."

"Once is a dream. Three times is a coincidence."

Sam looked at him worriedly, before sighing in defeat. "If this happens again, I'm telling Ethelwulf myself," she said, walking into Lancer's English class in a huff.

Danny frowned at her demeanour as he watched her go. He glanced at Tucker who shrugged in response. "She's just worried," Tucker told him. "We both are. The last time you thought you were facing him, you almost exploded with power- literally. These dreams- it's starting to be a pattern Danny. It isn't like you've had dreams that predicted battles before."

"Yeah, but that was planted by Fear," Danny said frowning. Tucker gave him a pointed look. "Okay, I see your point. If it gets worse, I'll let him know."

Tucker smiled. "It's all we ask," he replied. Both boys walked into the classroom and headed to the back of the class where Sam was sitting with crossed arms. "Besides, best not to worry Sam. Her fury is enough to give us nightmares for eternity."

Sam's eyes narrowed darkly, but held a bit of humour to them. "And don't you boys forget it," she said menacingly.

:-=-:

Danny floated in front of a darker part of the Ghost Zone, frowning. He was sure this was the way to Clockwork's tower – now, however, it seemed to have distorted, not having a clear sense of direction. "Weird," Danny muttered to himself. He looked down at the map he was currently holding, trying to regain his place. "I'm definitely in the right area." He floated down closer to the Far Frozen, staring at the large swirling vortex in front of him. It shifted again, showing part of Pariah's Keep and Walker's prison instead of the Observant's Headquarters.

Crossing his arms, Danny sighed. He didn't want to admit how much his dreams were bugging him, but Tucker was right. He couldn't ignore them anymore, and if he was worried about his future self escaping, there was really one ghost to ask before he talked to Ethelwulf. Rather… attempt to ask – Clockwork was never one to come out and say anything directly.

"Great One?"

Danny turned at the voice. Frostbite was floating behind him, worry etched in his features. In his thoughts, Danny had floated close to the edge of the Far Frozen's mountainside, where the yeti leader could easily see him from the main gates. "Hey Frostbite," Danny said in greeting, floating towards him.

"I sensed your core as you approached," Frostbite told him, "You've been floating here for a while."

"I had hoped to visit Clockwork," Danny said, looking back at the darker part of the Zone. "Do you know why that area keeps changing?"

Frostbite frowned, looking to the area that Danny was indicating to. "I see you've noticed," Frostbite said seriously. "While the Ghost Zone is constantly shifting, Clockwork's realm shifts more frequently. It's to ward off any unwanted guests."

"But it's always shown the same path for me," Danny argued. He showed Frostbite his map and pointed to where they were. "Past the Observant's Headquarters, through the valley of gears and then his lair."

Frostbite frowned, looking at the map before turning his attention to the young ghost. "Then perhaps the Time Guardian does not wish to see you, Great One."

Danny frowned at that. Clockwork never prevented him from visiting. Annoyingly refuse him help, sure. Perhaps there was something more going on.

"You seem uneasy, Danny," Frostbite probed. Danny looked at him quizzically, recognizing his name rather than the titles Frostbite usually called him. "Our cores are kin; born of a frigid cold that generates from our birth. I'm able to tell when something is bothering you."

"Is it that obvious?" Danny asked drily. They floated for a moment, staring out into the Ghost Zone in silence. "I've been having dreams," Danny admitted. Frostbite said nothing, giving Danny the invitation to continue. "I faced this ghost – an alternate version of me – who was by far the worst ghost I've ever fought. Worse than Pariah Dark even. For a long time, I was afraid of… well… a lot. Facing him. Becoming him. Sometimes, I catch myself checking if I look like him as I get older."

"These dreams you speak of… do you dream of becoming him?" Frostbite asked.

Danny shook his head. "They don't feel like dreams," he said softly, before he could stop himself. "They feel like glimpses of the future."

Frostbite was quiet for a long time before responding. "What do you see Great One?" he asked.

"Battles mostly; at least three different ones. But last night, I saw him. Or I was him? Either way, he was escaping." Frostbite nodded. Danny shifted in his stance, waiting for Frostbite to say something. "It's probably nothing," he added half-heartedly, not wanting to worry his friend. "The last time I really gave him any thought was over a year ago. I'm probably just stressed or worried or something and it's bringing this back up."

"Perhaps," Frostbite mused, still looking out into the Zone. The larger ghost turned to the teen beside him. "Do you remember what I said to you when you were worried about facing Undergrowth?"

Danny nodded. "Fear is natural and charging into battle despite it is what makes you a hero," he summarized.

"It's alright to fear your dreams," Frostbite continued, "But you should not let it consume you Great One. Dwelling on the unknown has caused many a ghost to fall."

"So, you think I'm overreacting?" Danny asked, a tad hopeful.

"It doesn't matter what I think," Frostbite responded quickly. Danny looked down, crestfallen. "It matters what you think. You're discovering new powers daily, focus on the here and now, not the could haves or what will be. Charge into these battles – these dreams – and see what you find. The answer lies with you."

Danny sighed, frowning. "And if they turn out to be just nightmares?"

Frostbite chuckled. "Then you have your answer." Frostbite's small smile fell as he observed the boy in front of him. "Though, I have a feeling you already know the answer."

Danny at looked at him, confused. "What makes you say that?"

"Would you be looking for Clockwork if you truly believed they were only dreams?"

:-=-:

Papers scattered across the Fenton's kitchen table, making Jazz frown in thought. She only had a few more weeks before the deadlines to accept and she still had no clue where she wanted to go to college in the fall. She had no idea how popular her ghost envy paper would be when she wrote it, but to get accepted to all the schools she applied to? She couldn't believe it. Then again, with the appearance of ghosts in the last year and a half, she assumed there were a lack of applicants in the field. Add her last name into it? Yale, Wisconsin, Cincinnati, Fort Eerie, Harvard came knocking at her door.

Jazz turned her attention to the one in her hand, the modest logo of Amity University staring back in the top left hand corner. It was the obvious choice – close to home, she could help out with the ghost fights, study with two pretty amazing scientists and would probably learn more about a ghost's psyche through her brother and his friends than any professor.

"Make a decision yet?" Jazz turned at her mother's voice. Maddie watched her daughter proudly from the top of the basement steps, a small smile on her face.

"No," Jazz whined, shaking her head. "I thought it would be easy to have all the choices laid out in front of me. It's pretty overwhelming."

Maddie nodded knowingly as she walked to the table to join her. "I remember that feeling. You know Jazz, there's not a wrong choice here. Each one of these schools will give you a top notch education. The question you should ask yourself is if you're really choosing the school that's best for you."

Jazz frowned. "Of course I'm picking the best school for me. I'm the one choosing!"

Maddie raised an eyebrow at her daughter. "Then why do you have all these letters on the table, but one in your hand?" Jazz looked down at the letter in her hand with wide eyes. "Sweetheart," Maddie said gently, "While I'd love for you to stay here with us, you need to do what's best for you. You're smart, capable and all of these institutions want your brilliance. Don't choose what you think is best for us. We want you to be happy. Danny included."

Jazz sighed. "I know," she said softly. "Danny's said the same thing. I just… I don't want to miss anything. I worry."

"Didn't you argue that your brother is more capable than we give him credit for?" Maddie asked skeptically.

"Well… yes," Jazz agreed.

"And wasn't a large reason you didn't want to leave was cause you were worried about Danny not confiding in us readily?"

"Yeah, I mean, he usually keeps things close to the vest-"

"And that you're just making all these excuses because you're trying to avoid how scared you are to leave?"

Jazz sighed. She looked at the letter to Yale and then back to Amity University, conflicted. "What if I deferred a year? Learned a bit more about the family business?"

Maddie sighed, then smiled gently at her daughter. "Choose your own path Jazz; we'll support you no matter what." Jazz smiled back and engulfed her mother in a hug.

They broke apart as Danny flew through the floor and landed on the kitchen floor with a soft thud. "Again?" Danny joked, looking at the table full of acceptance letters and mirroring the tone she had used the day before.

"Ha ha, you're hilarious," Jazz said deadpanned. Danny transformed into his human self and walked over to the table, looking over his sister's and mother's shoulders. "Where were you anyway?"

Danny shrugged, eyes darting across the table. "Fort Eerie too? Wow Jazz, that's amazing!" he congratulated. Jazz beamed at her brother. "I was in the Ghost Zone."

That got the attention of both Fenton women. "I didn't know you were going there today?" Jazz said.

"Did something happen?" Maddie asked, confused. "Your next training session with Ethelwulf is next week isn't it?"

Danny shook his head. "Nothing's wrong," he assured with a smile. "Went to visit a friend, but he wasn't home. Stopped to chat with Frostbite instead."

"How is Frostbite?" Maddie asked. She had only met the yeti ghost once, after Jack insisted on doing an ice training session in the basement. It took a week for everything to defrost.

"He's good, didn't chat much about him though," Danny said, frowning slightly in anticipation. "I mentioned the dreams to him. Wasn't much help but he gave me something to think about."

Jazz turned to him expectantly. "Which was?"

"Just to trust my instincts," he told them. "Said it wasn't good to dwell on what could have been or what will be and just trust myself. Gonna mention them to Ethelwulf next week if I can't see Clockwork." He turned back to the table full of paper. "Speaking of could haves, have you picked one yet? The suspense is killing me."

Jazz simply glared at her little brother. "No," she retorted, choosing to ignore his pun. "But I love the pressure you're putting on me. A real motivational speech."

Danny picked up the letter from Yale and handed it to his sister with a sigh. "I would have thought it was a no brainer," he said, giving her the piece of paper. "It's always been your dream to go to Yale. There's nothing stopping you! Just say yes."

Jazz smiled softly at her brother as she locked eyes with Maddie. Their mother nodded encouragingly at her as she looked at the two sheets of paper in front of her. "Thanks," she said to both of them.

Danny hugged his sister tightly before transforming back to his ghost half. "I promised Sam and Tuck I'd meet them after I visited Frostbite – you mind if I miss dinner Mom?"

"Just don't be out too late Danny," Maddie reminded him. With a small wave indicated he heard her, he went intangible, flew up and out of the house. Maddie chuckled softly and shook her head. "That boy never sits still."

Jazz watched her brother go with a smile, before looking down at her hands once more. She was ready to make the decision. She looked back to the table and sighed as she glanced at her choices again. Maybe.

:-=-:

He couldn't remember what he was dreaming about – it was lovely and warm - but he was very aware when it shifted. Danny fell with a thud, ungracefully hitting the ground face first. Groaning, Danny looked around in the darkness around him. "Ow," he muttered, picking himself up from the ground. It was pitch black…the only other light source coming from…

"Phantom?" Danny asked, spotting his ghost half sprawled out in front of him. The ghost in front of him opened his green eyes quickly and scrambled upright, staring back into the blue eyes of Danny Fenton.

"Fenton?"

"What are you doing here?!" they asked at the same time. Phantom groaned in annoyance.

"Here we go again. Mindscape?" he asked, looking around.

"Looks like it," Danny agreed. "But why now? Last thing I remember, I was very much asleep."

Phantom nodded. "Could be a dream?" he speculated.

Danny shook his head. "Doubtful, I definitely feel awake. So why are we here?" Fenton waited expectantly as Phantom looked around. The white haired ghost sighed exasperatedly as he crossed his arms.

"No idea."

"Great," Danny replied drily. "Just what I need; you annoying me while I'm awake and while asleep."

Phantom scoffed. "Like we have any time for that," he said with a frown. Phantom lit up a hand with green ecto-energy, trying to illuminate their surroundings a little more. There was nothing else there. "Our core must have split us for a reason," he said. "The last time we were here, we were using too much raw energy on the shields."

Danny frowned. "But we aren't using any energy now," he said. "Raw or otherwise. We're asleep. We're not using-" Danny trailed off, realizing what he was saying. He turned to Phantom, deadpanned. "Oh hell."

"What?" Phantom asked. It took him a second before he realized it too. "Damn," he swore. "I guess Frostbite was right."

The world lit up around them, various images and battles swirling around as if they were in the eye of the hurricane. When the images settled, both teens found themselves in a large tower, with many clocks and gears hanging from the green castles. Viewing screens with similar images of the battles they had just witnessed danced across it, giving a more ominous presence to their new setting. The sounds of many ticking clocks worked overhead.

"Clockwork's tower?" Danny questioned, looking around the room. Phantom walked around, observing their surroundings. Danny followed suit, exploring what he remembered from the last time here was here. The walls were bare; where many time medallions hung now was empty at the top of the tower. "The medallions are gone."

"No sign of Clockwork either," Phantom called back. "Wonder where he-" Phantom cut himself off, gasping. "Fenton, back up. Slowly."

Noticing the quick change in tone, Danny turned to Phantom in confusion. The ghost was staring at something in his direction with a hard glare. His body was ridged, almost on edge; Danny could feel the anxiety building up within him. Turning back, he gasped as he saw it; the old thermos, battered, dented and most noticeably - cracked.

Danny took a couple steps backward to be side by side with his ghost half. "This can't be real," he whispered in horror.

"Can't it?" Phantom quipped back. "We knew Clockwork had the thermos; Clockwork never told us what he did with it."

"But he just left it there. All this time?"

The thermos rattled, making both boys jump in response. Another crack appeared, this time going down the centre of the thermos. It hissed as a blue light shone from within.

"No," Phantom whispered in dread.

"We gotta go," Danny said, worriedly. "Dream or not, this isn't going to end well if we start fighting."

"We need to know," Phantom argued back. "Frostbite said to trust our powers; we need to know if this is real." Danny felt the onslaught of emotions coming from his ghost half and realized that he was right; if this was a new power, they needed to know if they could trust it.

Danny swallowed as the thermos crackled this time. After a few tense moments, the thermos exploded in a whirl of white and green flames. Phantom quickly put a shield around the two teens, still waiting in anticipation for what was to come.

Danny?

The light from the explosion was blinding even through the shield. By the time it died down, Danny blinked back stars to see the figure in front of him.

Danny!

His white and black cape billowed around the flames as white boots touched the ground. Flaming white hair ignited menacingly as Dan Phantom walked out of the flames, laughing. His red eyes turned to the two wide eyed teens under the shield, a sadistic grin plastered across his face.

Danny, wake up!

"Hello Danny," Dan drawled, raising his hand toward the shield, lighting it with green ecto-energy. "And goodbye." The ectoblast hit the shield and the world exploded with pain. A scream… or was that his scream? The pain was getting almost unbearable. It was almost as if his core was imploding…

They were fighting now, the wails colliding bouncing off each other as they were locked in combat. He felt himself fading but there was no way of knowing for sure…

Son! You need to wake up!

He was tired… run ragged from the battles before. Whatever he managed to heal was definitely not healed anymore. The raw energy in front of him flowed through his veins as it battled against the dark red eyes of his worst enemy. It intensified now, all consuming. He couldn't take it….

:-=-:

Danny sprung upright, eyes shooting open and gasping for air. He's out. He's back. There was a loud clattering noise around him and jumped, hitting whoever was shaking his shoulders in the chest. They put the arms around him tighter. Thinking he was still in danger, Danny tried to transform, but nothing happened, his panicked breathing getting quicker.

"Danny it's me," his father whisper shouted, trying to get Danny to look at him. "It's okay, it's just me."

Above the sound of his breathing, Danny relaxed slightly as he heard his father's voice. Jack breathed with him, trying to get him to calm down. They sat there for a few minutes before Jack spoke again.

"I came to check on you," Jack said quietly, watching Danny apprehensively as he continued to stare wide eyes at the wall gasping for air. "You were making things float around the room, kiddo. It took me a while to wake you. Must have been some dream."

Danny shook his head and swallowed. "That," he said breathlessly, "Was no dream." He pushed away from his dad's grasp as he got out of bed. He was halfway across the room when he tried to transform again. It failed again, this time sending a series of white sparks through his form, causing the boy to fall with a shout.

"Danny!" Jack yelled running to his side. "What's wrong?"

Danny shook his head again. Gritting his teeth, he focused his energy and finally transformed through the sparks into his ghost half. He heard his father yell for Maddie and Jazz, but Danny could only focus on one thing. He's back. Protect the town. He flew up to the Ops Center, ignoring the cries from his father as he left. Protect your home.

Standing at the edge of the Ops Center, Danny stood firmly in place, ignoring the sparks coming from his core. Protect the town. Focusing on the energy within him, his right eye turned blue as an emblem of light appeared at his feet, his logo shining brightly beneath him. The light turned green as energy shot out from the circle. His body glowed as energy flew straight up out into the air. Hitting its mark in the sky, the energy started to encase the town, creating a large dome overtop. The dome continued, widening to the limits of the town. The circle at his feet connected with the dome overhead, trapping the town inside. Danny continued to pour as much energy as he could into the shield, until finally he faltered backwards and collapsed onto his knees, panting from the effort.

He's back. Dannyheard his family shouting for him as they reached the top of the Ops Center. Stamina finally giving in, Danny reverted back to his human self as they came around him.

His father came in front of him, kneeling down and locking eyes with him. "Danny," he said with concern. "What is it? What did you see?"

Still panting, Danny turned to his sister, who looked at him with fearful eyes. "He's out," he whispered hoarsely; dread pooling in the bottom of his stomach as the reality of his words finally sank in.

Jazz gasped, their parents looking at their children in alarm and concern.

"Who's out?" Maddie demanded. "Danny what are you talking about!?"

"Danny, are you sure?" Jazz asked worriedly. "Couldn't this all be a-"

"No," he grunted. White sparks again awakened at his chest. He closed his eyes tightly as he tried to weather the overuse of his powers to explain. They were all in danger. "He's back Jazz. He's coming." More sparks went through the boy's frame making Danny groan in pain. He tried to battle through it, but eventually Danny pitched forward into Jack's arms, unconscious.

First

Read on AO3

#cartoons #danny phantom #fanfiction #danny fenton #split!danny #Fenton bonding #action #adventure #cross posted on ao3 #friendship #no phantom planet #But his parents know #Updates on Sunday and sometimes Wednesday

8 notes · View notes

fanfic-chan · 3 years

Text

Sisterly Mischief

Hehehe, hey guys, so uh, yeah, I kinda got a little bit behind on this with everything that's been going on lately combined with how much I actually struggled with this prompt specifically.^^` I know technically this was supposed to be a self insert or OCxCanon, but I'm not really comfortable with writing self inserts rn and since Yami and Hikari are part of a more detailed fic idea than my oneshots, I found it difficult to incorporate them into a canon character interaction without revealing to much, so I hope you don't mind me modifying the prompt a bit and writing this self indulgent little fluff fic between my girls. Hikari and Yami are twin sisters btw, so this is strictly platonic. Feel free to ask any questions you have about these two kf you're curious, and I'll do my best to answer. Tickletober prompts are still open btw!^^ 💕

Ler: Hikari (OC)

Lee: Yami (OC)

"Hikari, for the fifty billionth time, no, I can't play Just Dance with you right now. I'm busy." Yami grunted in annoyance when her elder twin sister flopped over her shoulder dramatically, and despite her irritation, she couldn't help but roll her eyes fondly at her twin's antics.

"But Yamiiiiii~ You've been working on that thing for hours! Can't you take a break and play with your big sister for a little while? Pleeease~?" Hikari begged, pouting when Yami only continued to tinker with the device in front of her. "Sorry 'Kari, but it's your own fault for dropping the voice modifier you know. It's one of our most vital tools as vigilantes if we're going to continue not getting caught, so I have to get it working again as soon as possible if we're going to go on patrol again anytime soon, which unfortunately means I don't have time to take breaks right now. Maybe you should start being more careful if you don't want me to keep having to fix our tools so much." She scolded playfully, smirking as Hikari let out an offended squawk and stood up.

When Yami felt her pouting sister's weight lift off of her, she expected that to be the end of it, but it seemed as if the ever persistent Hikari had other plans.

"Fine then! I tried to do it the easy way, but now you've gone and disrespected me and you still refuse to take a break! I'm sorry little sister, but I'm afraid you leave me no choice. Desperate times call for desperate measures!"

"Huh? What do you- AHHH!!" Yami didn't even get the chance to finish her question before she was literally tackled from her chair and onto the floor. It only took her a second to figure out exactly what was going on when Hikari settled on top of her hips with a devious grin, wiggling her fingers menacingly.

"No! Heck no! Not again 'Kari! Get off of me right now or I swear I'm gonna- Mmphh!! Pffft! S-Stohohop it! T-thihihis is so not f-f-funny!!" Yami immediately started to struggle when her sister began poking teasingly at her ribcage, trying her hardest to stifle her giggles when they started bubbling up in her throat. She wasn't going to break this time. No way!

"Oh? Whatever do you mean Yami? Because I'm not the one who's laughing after all, that's all you. So what is it that's just sooo not funny? Why are you so giggly all of a sudden if there's nothing to laugh at hm? That's kind of silly of you, don't you think?" Yami groaned through her muffled laughter, lifting her arms up to cover her bright red face. Dang it! Hikari always knew just the right way to get her all flustered like this. Sooo not fair! Not fair at all! Even so, she still wasn't going to break! She could do this! She just had to keep it together for a few more minutes!

She. Would. Not. Break!

"EYAAAHAHAHAHA!! NOHOHOHO! NONONO! Nohohohot there!! Nohohohohot thahahat!!!"

Nevermind. She broke.

Yami let out an unholy screech of laughter and slammed her arms right back down as soon as her sister stuffed her hands into her exposed underarms, squirming desperately in an attempt to dislodge them, but only really succeeding in trapping them even further as she pressed her arms tightly to her sides.

"Not here? Not right here? Why not? You're certainly laughing a lot, so you must be having fun right? Not only that, but you're also trapping my hands so that must mean you don't want me to move spots." Hikari teased expertly, laughing when her efforts were rewarded with a growl of 'Shut up you jerk!'

"Awwwww, is my sweet little baby sister feeling embarrassed? Hm? Is she? Well maybe if she apologizes to her nee-chan for being so rude to her elder and she promises to take a break and relax for a little while, then I might just be willing to show her a little mercy. How about it sis? Ready to give in yet~?

"Ohoho shuhuhuhut up!! You're ohohonly older by fohohohour minut- EEEEEP!! OKAHAHAY! OKAY OKAY!! I'M SOHORRY!! NEE-CHAHAHAN!!! I'M SOHHOHORRY!!"

Yami immediately started pleading for her life when Hikari moved down to her sensitive sides and hips, though her demon of a sister didn't let up just yet.

"And~?"

"I PROHOHOMISE TO TAKE A BREAK NOW!! I WIHIHILL!!! I SWEHEHEAR!! NOW STOHOHOP IT!!"

And just like that, it was all over. As soon as Hikari got off of her, Yami immediately rolled over on her side and curled up to catch her breath. "Y-you're.. so mehehean, Nee-chan... Soho.. mehehean." She whined through excess giggles. Hikari just laughed.

"Hehe! Maybe, but you still love me."

Yami rolled her eyes and smiled despite herself.

"Y-Yeah, whatever. Just... Shut up.. Meanie.."

#tickletober2021 #oc #mha #bnha+tickling #ler!oc #lee!oc #siblings #vigilantes

5 notes · View notes

piprocrastinator · 3 years

Text

‘Rawr’ But Make it Cute

Gulf.. Type fic

Gulf baby sits a child Type. Mew does show up as well. It’s just some cute stuff.

Length: 2525

Gulf blinked and wide brown eyes blinked back. Gulf huffed and the tiny boy let out an equally tiny huff in reply.

“I don’t think I can do this,” Gulf says to Mew not taking his eyes of the tiny human in front of him.

Mew snort a chuckle before swooping the boy into his arms and into a hug. “Type's a great kid. You’ll be fine. I’ll be right back.”

“Four to five hours isn’t exactly ‘ right back ’” Gulf mumbles but it’s more out of nerves than sass and Mew can see it. Mew squeezes Type a bit too tight and the boy laughs loudly at the action, squealing about not being able to breathe.

“Uncle Mew.” Type says, voice high pitched and a tad screechy. GUlf frowns. “Too tight.”

“Oh, I’m sorry.” Mew not sounding sorry in the slightest but loosens his hold, pinching one of Types fluffy checks. (Gulf doesn’t feel the slight bubble of jealousy because Mew is fawning over someone else’s cute checks. Because he's not jealous of a child.) “But you’re just so cute I could-“ whatever Mew was going to say was cut off by more shrill laughter as Mew tickles Types sides.

Gulf watches unsettled off to the side. Mew finally sets Type back down, patting the boy on the head before Type shuffles off, an angry pout on his face, to his coloring book on the floor again.

Mew leans in and kisses Gulf's temple. “I promise it’ll be no time at all before I’m back.”

“Are you sure this is a good idea?” Gulf tugs at the end of Mews shirt between his pointer and thumb desperately.

Mew smiles softly and Gulf feels some of his nerves settle. “Don’t worry baby. You’ll be fine. We’ve watched Type loads of times before, you know what to do.”

“You’ve watched Type, I just tagged along.” Gulf pouted. Mew's face softened as he leans in to kiss Gulf's forehead. Just as Mew pulls away his phone screams to life in his pocket.

“You’ll do great. If you need anything- I mean anything at all- call me.”

“What if you're busy?”

“Call Mild. Or Tong. Or your mom. Or my mom. Sweetie, call anyone and they'll help you but I promise,” Mew drops a quick reassuring peck to Gulf's lips. “You’ll be fine.”

Mew steps away to ruffle Type hair, the boy grumbling a goodbye as Mew leaves.

“Just us now kid.” Type turns to look at Gulf with a blank stare. It’s silent -heavy and tense. Gulf blinks. Type blinks. Then Type turns back to his coloring book without a sound. Gulf can feel the stress building and it’s literally not even been a minute.

He’s never babysat before. Technically he has but Mew had always been there with him when he had before. Mew had always been the one to take charge of the care and protection while Gulf just stood back and lent a hand when Mew needed it. He's never been alone with such a tiny human, his sole responsibility to let the kid not get hurt. The pressure.

It’s not that Gulf wasn't opposed to kids. He wasn’t. He just wasn’t... familiar with them. Mew had mentioned, on more than one occasion -read all the time- that he liked kids and wanted one (or two) in the future. He seemed to talk more and more about it when Tong adopted Type a year ago.

Mew was great with kids, probably because outside of work Mew was basically a kid himself. But what did one even do with kids? Gulf couldn't remember anything from the times before when they had babysat Type.

It was a couple of minutes of Gulf just staring at Type before Type turned to look at him again.

“Uncle Gulf." Gulf hummed in reply. "Why are you staring at me?"

Gulf shifted awkwardly in his seat. He hadn't meant to stare. "I uh...."

"Do you want to see my coloring?"

"Yeah?" Type held up the book, he wasn't very good at keeping in the lines nor choosing what colors fit well with each other. "Very nice," Gulf says instead of what he's thinking.

"Uncle Gulf?" Gulf hums again as Type sets his book back down. "I don't want to color anymore."

"What do you want to do then?"

Types face scrunches up in thought. It's very cute and Gulf can't resist reaching out and brushing some of Types hairs from his forehead.

"Football." Type exclaims jumping up.

Gulf blinks then smile, "Alright." He could do football. He helped Type into his shoes and lead him to the back yard where his ball sat by the door from a few days ago. Type immediately kicked it before running after it. Gulf followed. The makeshift goal was two sets of trees and Gulf ran in tiny steps to make it more fair for Type and his tiny legs.

Type had a particular pension for finding all the tiny rocks and uneven spots in the yard and tripping over them so Gulf spends most of the time panicking that Type was seriously hurt until the kid jumped back up to start running again. The game was mostly Type running from Gulf with hints of actual Football rules included. They played for hours, Type winning but only because he found a muddy area left by the rain yesterday and decided that he could run through it. He couldn't, he tripped and was now covered in mud. Gulf proclaimed him the winner so the game could end.

"Alright, little buddy. You won and now it's bath time." Gulf helps Type stand back up. The mud globs plopped off his shirt as they waddled out of the puddle.

"Not done yet." Type squeals, his tiny feet trying to kick at the ball but Gulf still held him up by his armpits. "Let's play."

"I think we're done for the day." Type huffs all tiny and angry, feet wriggling. "You're a mud monster buddy."

Type rawrs, hands going up like claws. "Monster."

Gulf sets the boy down away from the mud before grabbing the ball as Type tiny stomps towards it, growing. "Such a scary monster." He comments.

"Rawr." Type grabs onto Gulf leg, looking menacingly up at him. "I eat human for ball. Rawr."

"Oh no," Gulf plays along trying to wiggle his leg out of Type grasp. "The monster's going to eat me." He manages to waddle them towards the house a few steps from the door. "How about we give the monster a bath and we can eat since the monster is hungry."

"Monster hungry." Type makes some more growling noises, tugging on Gulf pant before he stops suddenly looking up at Gulf with a look of excitement. Gulf blinks at the sudden emotion change.

"Dino outfit?" He yells bouncing on the balls of his feet.

"Dino ... outfit?" Gulf asks and Type nods enthusiastically before running to the door, his dirty hands sliding over the glass as he pushes it open.

"Wait, Type."

Type stops to look back, tiny huff in his direction as if annoyed with him.

"Your dirty." Type tiny eyebrows pinch together before he squeezes through the small opening he made with the door, inside the house. The next thing Gulf knows, Type is stripping in front of the door, his dirty clothes slapping wetly against the floor by the door as he dashes through the house.

Gulf jumps out of his shoes to chase after him. Type runs through the corridors, down the hall. They pass the outside door at least three times before Type slides into Mew's room. Gulf mildly panics as he throws open the door. silently praying Type isn't on Mews bed. Instead, he finds Type pulling open the bottom drawer of Mews dresser.

"Type what are -" Type flops back as the draw slides open all the way before he pulls out something green. "-doing?"

"Dino outfit." Type holds out the outfit happily, bouncing on his knees staring at Gulf.

"Ok, buddy." Gulf nudges Type off the ground and pushes him towards the bathroom. "You can wear the ... dino outfit but only if wash up first."

"Okay." Type gives him a tiny salute.

"Do you need help?"

"No, I'm a big boy I can wash myself. Silly uncle Gulf."

Gulf watches him skeptically as he tosses the dino outfit onto the sink and steps to the shower. Gulf waits until it seems like Type knows what he's doing before he slips off to gather up the boy's clothes from off the floor, throwing them in the washer so that hopefully they will be clean and dry before Mew gets home, Gulf checks the clock, in two and a half hours. He hadn't realized how long they had been outside.

He cleans up the mud drippings by the door, down the hall, and off the window before going to check on Type again who was scrubbing himself down. Letting out a breath that he wasn't drowning. A thought he wasn't entirely sure why he was having because Type was taking a shower not a bath but it was still a thought he was having nonetheless.

Gulf reheats some noodles and puts the bowl on the table as Type dashes out of the bathroom clad in his green Dino onesie. The dinosaur hood flopped over his dripping wet hair.

"I'm a Dinosaur."

"You are. A clean one too." Type nods happily, tiny stomping towards Gulf. He pretends to be scared until Type is in reach before he swoops in and plops Type into the chair. "Dinosaur needs food."

Type growls happily, "Dino is hungry."

Gulf ruffles his hair before going to check on the bathroom. He grabs a towel to rub over Type's hair as he eats. Type isn't happy about it and swats at his hands grumbling between bites.

"Uncle Gulf." Type calls, "Dino is done eating."

"Very good." Gulf clears the bowl as Type hops off the chair. "Can we watch a dinosaur movie?"

"Sure."

"Wait." Type tugs at his pant leg point towards Mews room. "You have to wear a dino outfit toooooo."

"I don't have one though."

"Yes you do." Type says exasperated. "Uncle Mew wore it with me before."

Type pushes him back into Mews room, pulling open the drawer again to pull out a much bigger piece of green cloth. "See."

Gulf plucks it from his fingers to look at it. It was almost an exact replica of the one Type was wearing, just bigger. Gulf is confused because he didn't even know Mew had this tiny outfit for Type much less a bigger one. He's not really surprised because it's very Mew to have something so cute and childish. He probably looks great in it too. Now Gulf wants to see Mew and Type in matching dino outfits.

"Dino dino dino." Type chanting knocked him out of his fantasies of Mew.

"Okay." Gulf sighs, "Let's get the movie set up and I have to shower first or Mew will ... -" He stops checks his words before saying, "-be very mad at me for wearing something of his while dirty."

"Obily." Obviously . Type hadn't learned to fully say yet but his attempt was cute. "Uncle Mew says that's how you stay healthy."

"Uncle Mew is just weird, isn't he?" Gulf taps Type nose, earning him an annoyed sound.

"To the Tv." Type tiny stomps out of the room growling as he made his way to the living room. Gulf follows and starts up Jurassic park for him, setting a blanket next to him.

"I'll be right back." Type nods, already thoroughly entranced by the movie.

Gulf watches Type as he backward walks towards the bathroom. He showers the quickest he's ever showered. Drying off enough to pull on the dino onesie. It was.. adorable. Now he really really wanted to see Mew in it.

When he made it back to the living room Type was nowhere to be seen. For a second He felt nothing than the panic hit. "Type?" He yelled. Dashing into the next room, sliding into the kitchen. "Type."

"Soda." Type calls from the counter. His little feet swinging, the fridge door open and a can of soda clasp between his tiny hands.

"Type." Gulf sighed in relief, helping Type off the counter and shutting the door, "Next time just let me know buddy. That's dangerous."

Type shakes his head, "I can do it."

They walk back into the living room, the sound of the T-Rex screeched through the speakers. "I know you can but maybe next time just in case, ask for help."

Type doesn't answer just crawls back up on the couch, soda can left on the coffee table in front of them. They settle in and type sits close to Gulf, part of the way through the move his tiny body slumps over fast asleep. Gulf smiles leaning him to lay on the couch, tucking the covers up to his chin. Gulf moves lean to the other side of the couch watching the movie until he falls asleep as well.

"Gulf," Mew says in a hushed tone. Gulf grumbles, peaking open his eyes when he feels tiny fingers wiggle against his side. He can hear Types (attempted) stifled laugh.

Gulf lets out a tiny fake loud laugh, rolling away from the wiggling fingers as Type laughs loudly, proud of himself for tickling Gulf.

Gulf blinks open his eyes to see Mew smiling down at him. "I told you it would be fine."

----

It was a couple of days later when Gulf pulls on a pair of boxers before closing the drawer with his hip. He glances down the bottom drawer.

"Mew." He calls and he gets a muffled grunt in response. "I think I've decided."

"Decided?" Mew responds then appears in the doorway looking at him with a raised brow.

"We should adopt."

Mew chocks on his saliva, coughing for a moment. "What?"

"Adopt." Gulf pulls open the bottom drawer pulling out the dino onesie in Mews size. "I want to see our kids wear these matching outfits with us."

Mew's eyes get all teary and Gulf can see the emotions already stirring up in Mew. so emotional. Mew steps forwards wrapping him in a hug. "I think that would be great."

Gulf lets Mew get to hug him for a moment patting his back, consoling him before pulling back slightly, "Do you know what else would be great?"

Mew hums trying to pull Gulf back to him. Gulf snickered at Mews grumbling for snuggles.

"We should wear this while we..." Gulf wiggles his brow pointing over his shoulder to the bed.

"You wear it or I wear?"

Gulf ponders it for a minute, looing between the outfit and Mew. "I'd let a T-rex eat my ass any day."

Mew grains squeezing his eyes shut. "Don't say that."

"Godzilla can take me to pound town?" Gulf tries and Mew pushes him away and onto the bed.

"Stop talking or I'm not wearing it."

"You can tricera-top me." Mew slaps a hand over Gulf mouth, damping the laughter spilling out.

#MewGulf au #MewGulf fic #Gulf being a good babysitter #fluff fic

6 notes · View notes

ezzydean · 4 years

Text

cauldron bubble

I needed something to distract myself until trick or treats could start and @notsuchasecret gave me BokuDai+ accidental baby acquisition. So here we go.

Click here to read on my blog and not on the dash (it’s almost 4k)

The cauldron in the fireplace rattles and Daichi gives it an unimpressed stare.

“Look,” he says as it shudders and clanks against its stand, “I don’t like doing my job sometimes either. But do you see me wiggling and grumbling about it? No. Just calm down okay?”

The cauldron rattles again and then goes still. Daichi has just enough time to smile in relief at the quiet before the contents suddenly start bubbling over the top of the cauldron.

“Shit,” he sighs. Foam starts oozing down the side of the cauldron and dripping into the fire, causing it to spit and crackle menacingly. “Well that’s not good.”

He grabs a poker from next to the fireplace and taps at the cauldron cautiously. It’s not supposed to do this. Nothing he put into the cauldron should make it do this. Why is it doing this? Maybe he shouldn’t have gotten a used cauldron. But the new ones are so expensive and after already having to replace most of his ingredients, two pairs of enchanted gloves, and his favorite formal scarf in the last two weeks he had been running a little short on funds.

The fire goes out with a puff of smoke and Daichi eyes the cauldron warily. If it explodes it’ll probably take out his entire fireplace. Which would suck. Because he does not have the budget for extensive home repairs right now. Clearly. Seeing as how he’s using a discounted, pre-owned, gently used cauldron that’s probably actually some cursed object of some kind. Which would actually pretty much be par for the course in terms of how his life has been going these last few months.

The cauldron rattles.

“I don’t think it’s supposed to do that.” Daichi whirls at the voice in his ear, heart thumping wildly in his chest and fire poker raised like a weapon. A warm hand catches his wrist before he can do any damage with said poker. Unfortunately.

“Koutarou how many times have I told you not to sneak up on me like that?”

Koutarou tilts his head and grins. “But it’s just how I am. I sneak. I’m a sneaky sneak.”

“You’re a giant pain in my—”

The cauldron hits the floor with a bang and they watch as it rolls across the floor towards them. It rolls to a wobbly stop a few steps away and they glance at each other. Daichi taps the cauldron again with the fire poker in his hand. Something inside the cauldron taps back.

“What did you put in there?” Koutarou whines in his ear.

“Nothing that should be able to do that.”

The cauldron wobbles again and Daichi raises the fire poker defensively. The cauldron tips over and a bundle of blankets tumbles out of it. A wriggling bundle of blankets. Daichi and Koutarou shuffle backwards and the bundle of blankets wriggles towards them. They shuffle again and the blankets wriggle faster. Koutarou’s back hits the wall and Daichi’s back hits Koutarou and the blankets wriggle and wriggle and wriggle and—

“Is that a baby?” Koutarou peers over Daichi’s shoulder curiously. “Why did you put a baby in your cauldron?”

“I did not put a baby in my cauldron.”

“Then why is there a baby in your cauldron?”

The baby in question crawls towards them and pats questioningly at Daichi’s foot.

“I don’t know. Nothing I put in there should have produced a baby.”

The baby peers up at them and giggles.

“Then where did it come from?”

“I. Don’t. Know.” The baby blinks at his irritated tone and it’s chin starts to wobble and Daichi sucks in a sharp breath. “No no no,” he hushes as he crouches down. “It’s okay. I’m not upset with you at all.” The baby blinks some more and reaches up towards Daichi. It coos happily when Daichi picks it up and stands. “See. It’s okay.”

“You’re a natural,” Koutarou says. He reaches over Daichi’s shoulder and taps gently at the baby’s nose. The baby giggles and then sneezes out a cloud of sparkles. Then it giggles at the sparkles. It reaches for them and Daichi spots something shiny hanging from it’s tiny neck.

He and Koutarou both reach for it, fingers brushing the warm surface. He should have known better. After all one of the first rules they’re taught is not to touch strange objects.

And yet.

Warmth sweeps through him as the magic in the medallion searches out his own and settles into place. The baby in his arms giggles and pats at his arms.

“Um,” Koutarou mutters. “Do we have to tell Akaashi? Cause I think he might get mad at me. I’m not sure what we just did but I definitely feel like it’s something Akaashi will scold me for.”

“I won’t tell Akaashi so long as you don’t tell Suga.”

“Deal.”

—

Daichi adjusts the bundle slung across his chest and knocks for a third time.

“Asahi,” he calls softly. “I know you’re home. Please let me in.”

“I know that tone,” Asahi calls back, just as soft. “You did something and want to drag me into it.”

“Come on Asahi.” He doesn’t beg. But he might whine a little bit. Which apparently works because Asahi’s door swings open and Daichi steps inside.

Asahi barely even glances up from the fabric spread across his table as Daichi pads into his workroom. Daichi hovers in the door, uncertain if his magic would disturb whatever Asahi is working on. He only needed to make the mistake of messing up Asahi’s work once to learn his lesson. So he just shifts from side to side, slowly rocking the bundle against his chest, and watches Asahi work. The gentle ebb and flow of Asahi’s magic as he turns the fabric piles into a really intricate bag soothes Daichi. Sometimes he forgets, in the chaos of loving Koutarou, just how soft other people’s magic can be.

Asahi finally finishes the bag and pushes himself up from the table.

“What did you do?”

“Okay you can’t tell Suga.”

Asahi narrows his eyes. “I won’t go running to him. But if he asks me I’m not going to lie to him. Not even for you Daichi.”

“That’s fair.” Daichi gestures out of the room and Asahi follows him. “So. Here’s the thing.” He explains what had happened, from the used cauldron right up to the magic of the medallion washing over him and Koutarou, and Asahi just listens quietly, gaze flickering down to the bundle against Daichi’s chest a few times.

“Okay,” Asahi says slowly. “So you used this pre-owned cauldron and somehow summoned a baby and then you and Koutarou both touched the mysterious medallion around it’s neck and felt some kind of, I’m guessing, binding magic lock into place around you three.”

Daichi grins sheepishly. “Yeah. That about sums it up.”

“And you don’t want to tell Suga.”

“No. I do not.”

“And you want me to do what?”

“Help me figure out if it’s just a human baby or if it’s, you know, extra magicky?” Daichi continues before Asahi can even open his mouth. “And yes I know that Suga would probably be a better choice but Suga is still kind of upset with me over the whole eye of newt Incident and I really don’t want to risk him trying to actually, literally, turn me into a sentient mushroom like he keeps threatening to do. So please help me?”

Asahi stares at Daichi long enough that Daichi starts to squirm.

Asahi groans. “Give me the baby.”

“Thank you,” Daichi sighs. “Thank you.”

He hands over the baby and watches as it coos and grabs at Asahi’s long hair, immediately trying to shove the strands into its mouth. Asahi laughs softly and gently pries his hair free, giving the baby his finger to gnaw on instead. He hums softly as his magic fills the air around them all. Daichi closes his eyes and lets the magic wash over him.

“Congratulations,” Asahi eventually says. Daichi pries his eyes open. “You and Koutarou are the proud parents of a baby human.”

“Parents?”

“The magic of the medallion was a sort of adoption bind. This little guy’s magic sees you two as his caregivers and will continue to do so until he is of age or is claimed by his biological family.” Asahi smiles down at the baby. “Do you have the medallion on you?”

Daichi hands over the medallion and takes the baby. He’s a parent. He, the man who just a few weeks ago nearly set fire to his cabin because he got distracted by the crows outside the window, is a parent. Is responsible for a tiny little human. Holy shit. Not just him. He and Koutarou. He loves the man dearly but Koutarou is even more of a disaster than Daichi is.

They’re both responsible for a baby.

Daichi looks up at Asahi in a panic that Asahi, the jerk of a friend he is, laughs when he catches sight of Daichi’s face.

“Well at least you don’t have to name him. According to the medallion he’s called Kei.”

—

Daichi watches Kei crawl across the floor, chasing the colorful reflections of the wind chime hanging up outside the window. He and Koutarou had tried childproofing his cabin once they realized Kei would be with them for awhile. They had started softening corners and locking drawers and enchanting the nooks and crannies. It had all been going well until they turned around and found Kei suddenly inside the glass front cabinet that Daichi stored his ingredients in that had been — and still was — locked. Then a few minutes later Kei was sitting in Daichi’s cauldron on top of the workbench. After that he and Koutarou had decided that childproofing the cabin was probably a bit of a waste of time with whatever magic Kei seemed to have and it wasn’t like Daichi really got up to anything too wild or left any dangerous tomes lying around that just anyone could stumble over and accidentally read and summon a demon like some of his friends were wont to do.

Kei seems content to crawl around and pat at the colors on the floor for the time being so Daichi spreads out a pile of papers on his table and starts skimming through them. He’s got three different research projects going on that he needs to start getting sorted out and now is the perfect time in his mind. It’s not like he’s about to start wandering around the woods or into town with some random baby that he kind of maybe somehow summoned in his pre-owned cauldron. He could do without a random kidnapping charge on his record or dealing with a hundred questions about where he got a baby all of a sudden thanks very much.

He pauses in the middle of leafing through a small pile of notes on enchanted toadstools in the western part of the woods and wonders if maybe he should get hold of Suga even though he already got the info he needed out of Asahi. Suga’s a hunter. He knows things. Maybe he would know where the baby came from if nothing else.

“Hey babe,” Koutarou says, stepping out of the shadows in the corner. Daichi throws the large spellbook he’s been referencing at Koutarou on instinct. Koutarou, of course, catches it easily.

“Bokuto,” Daichi hisses.

“I’m home?” Kei makes a happy noise and crawls towards them as Koutarou kisses Daichi’s cheek in greeting. “How are my two favorite guys doing?”

“I don’t know. How are Kuroo and Akaashi doing today?”

“Ouch.” Koutarou gives him a betrayed pout as he picks Kei up and cuddles him to his chest. It shouldn’t be endearing at all but it is. It really, really is and Daichi is a weak, weak man when it comes to Bokuto Koutarou and, apparently, little baby Kei in his arms. “That’s harsh.”

Daichi rolls his eyes but tells Koutarou about their day.

—

Daichi doesn’t mean to not tell most of his friends about the baby. Really he doesn’t. But he was already kind of a hermit before the whole pre-owned cauldron baby summoning thing and his cabin is really deep into the woods. Then Kei came along and, really, Daichi felt it was better for his sanity to not have to explain to a mob of angry townspeople that he suddenly had a baby in his care and had no idea how that happened. So he just… stays home. He takes on a lot of research projects and writes tome after tome on bizarre theories and niche arcane magic. He visits with Asahi and Kuroo through various spells and channels. He throws things when Koutarou appears out of thin air like the sneaky jerk he is and before he knows it over two years have passed.

Koutarou can never stay for too incredibly long. But that’s okay because Daichi knows that no matter how soon Koutarou has to leave he will always come back to Daichi. Well. Daichi and Kei now.

He hears Kei and Koutarou laughing and he smiles to himself. Nothing had been missing or wrong before but the moment Kei came into their lives something had clicked into place, a puzzle piece they had never realized there was room for.

Small thuds sound through the cabin and Daichi turns in time to watch Kei come running into the room, nimble as any three year old can be, and spot him.

“Oh no!” Kei yells. “’tarou’s coming!”

“He is?” Daichi gasps in concern. “Do we need to hide?”

Kei shakes his head but makes a beeline for Daichi, crawling into his lap and burying his face against Daichi’s neck.

“You keep me safe.”

Daichi’s chest tightens with emotion. “Of course I will,” he whispers. “I’ll always keep you safe.”

“Good.” Kei wriggles closer when they hear Koutarou’s heavy footsteps approaching. Daichi knows it’s all for show — Koutarou can be completely silent when he chooses to be after all — but he plays it up for Kei’s benefit. He gasps quietly and hugs Kei tighter. He holds his breath when Koutarou’s footsteps stop outside his door.

He yelps and kicks Koutarou’s shin when he suddenly appears next to them out of thin air instead of coming through the door.

“Koutarou,” he hisses.

Koutarou and Kei laugh in unison and Daichi groans when he realizes he’d just been set up.

“Got you,” Kei crows happily, face still smushed into Daichi’s neck.

“Got you,” Koutarou teases, pressing a kiss to Daichi’s cheek in apology.

After a moment Daichi turns his head and Koutarou obliges his silent request and kisses his lips softly. “Just what are you teaching our son,” he mutters against Koutarou’s lips.

“How to be an amazing sneaky sneak like his dad. Just like you’ll teach him to be an amazing researcher who blows stuff up once we get him reading.” Koutarou kisses him again. “Between you and me we’ll make our boy unstoppable.”

Daichi kisses Koutarou softly, gently, nothing more than expressing their love for each other, until Kei starts squirming.

“Before we make him truly unstoppable I think he needs a snack.” Kei stills for a moment and then squirms harder. “How does some strawberry cake sound Kei?”

“Please!” Kei slides off Daichi’s lap and flies out of the room as fast as he can run. “Cake! Please!”

“You spoil him,” Koutarou murmurs against Daichi’s lips.

“So do you,” Daichi murmurs back.

“No kiss!” They break apart and share a laugh when they look to the door and see Kei peering in with a pout. “Cake please!”

—

Kei is just short of five years old the first time Daichi catches him trying to read one of his spellbooks. He promptly takes it away and gives Kei something closer to his skill level.

(A week later Kei has found the spellbook again and nothing Daichi does convinces him to return it.)

—

Kei is seven when he and Koutarou shuffle into the cabin, both covered in vines and leaves and a mysterious ooze that Daichi chooses not to recognize. Koutarou gives Daichi a brilliant grin that, after a moment, Kei mimics with startling accuracy.

“We finished the contract,” they both say cheerfully and Daichi’s heart twists wickedly in his chest.

—

Kei is eight and a half when he narrows his eyes in concentration and Daichi’s kitchen window shatters into thousands of pieces.

“Oh,” Kei says, eyes wide and surprised. “I think I read it wrong.”

Daichi peers over Kei’s shoulder and shakes his head. “I think we need to get you glasses.”

—

Kei is just a little over nine when he stares up at the starry sky through the trees and asks Daichi, “Why are you so sad sometimes? Who are you missing?”

Daichi swallows hard, heart suddenly trying to climb up his throat, and pulls Kei into his lap. Kei struggles playfully but sinks happily into Daichi’s hug a moment later.

“An old friend,” Daichi answers truthfully. “I haven’t seen him in a long time. Sometimes it feels like he just vanished without a trace.”

Kei nods and twists so he can look into Daichi’s eyes. For a moment Daichi feels like he’s looking into the eyes of someone much, much older. Then Kei blinks and grins and Daichi is looking into the face of a nine year old again.

“I’m sure you’ll see him again soon. Nobody really ever vanishes.”

—

Daichi can hear something rattling and he glances around the cabin, trying to place the noise. The noise gets louder and he stands cautiously. The last time he heard something like this a baby had popped out of a cauldron. He eyes the fireplace warily but he had replaced that pre-owned cauldron years ago with a brand new, never used one and shoved the pre-owned monstrosity in a cupboard.

Kei steps into the cabin and hangs up his jacket and the rattling gets even louder. He looks up, golden eyes flashing behind his glasses in the early morning light, and frowns.

“What is that?”

He’s eleven years old and nearly as tall as Daichi with a sharp mind and even sharper tongue and Daichi couldn’t be prouder of him. Especially in moments like these when the rattling grows so loud the cupboards start shaking and Kei simply raises his brows and shifts himself into a stance Daichi knows Koutarou had taught him. Easy to defend himself or launch an attack if needed.

“I’m not sure,” Daichi says loudly, trying to talk over the rattling. “Let’s find out.”

It’s, obviously, the cupboard with the damned cauldron in it and Daichi has enough time to wonder just why he hasn’t gotten rid of it yet before the cauldron explodes in a cloud of smoke and dust and shadows and broken shards flying at him. The shards bounce harmlessly off the shield Kei throws up as he steps in front of Daichi and Daichi waves away the smoke and dust.

“Was that—?”

“Yeah,” Daichi answers. “Your cauldron.”

They had never lied to Kei about the cauldron, about how they got him, about how his magic adopted them. And he had accepted it with the grace of a child, curious but never overly worried about it. Now Daichi wonders if maybe they all should have been a little more worried, a little more proactive in finding out about the cauldron and the baby that had crawled out of it.

A knock sounds at the door and they share a cautious look. When they don’t immediately react there’s more knocking, louder and more insistent, and Daichi sighs. It’s been over a decade but he recognizes that knock. He gestures for Kei to stay in the kitchen, out of sight, and makes his was towards the door.

“Come in Suga,” he calls out. “The door is always unlocked for you. You know that.”

The door swings open and Suga stands in the doorway, leaves swirling around his feet noisily.

“Do I?” Suga asks. “It seems there’s a lot I don’t know about you Daichi. Like the fact that you and Bokuto have a child.”

Daichi laughs awkwardly. “Yeah. About that—”

Suga shakes his head and raises his hand, cutting Daichi off.

“About eleven years old. Golden eyes. Slightly curly blond hair. Probably tall for his age.” Daichi glances over his shoulder but Kei is still tucked out of sight. He turns back to Suga. “Fairly pale skin, sunburns easily. Magic that has the potential to overpower even yours. Sound about right?”

“Um.”

The leaves are still swirling around Suga’s feet so Daichi doesn’t step any closer. Suga has never hurt him and he doesn’t think he ever would. But it’s been ten years since they saw each other and Suga looks really, really irritated with Daichi.

“You magicked a baby out of a cauldron Daichi!”

“I didn’t mean to!” Suga glares at him and Daichi makes a helpless gesture. “He just kind of appeared! How do you know all this anyway?”

Suga sighs heavily, like the entire world is on his shoulders and he’s disappointed in everything everywhere ever, and steps into the cabin. Standing behind him is Kei. No. It’s a young man who looks a lot like Kei. He’s got the same chin and nose and eyes, though his are a little darker than Kei’s. His hair isn’t quite as unruly as Kei’s but it’s the same pale blond color.

“This is Akiteru,” Suga explains. “He came to me about six months ago, not long after he turned sixteen. Now that he’s of age with his magic and on his own he asked me to help him find his little brother.”

There’s a shuffling noise behind him and Akiteru’s eyes widen as Kei steps out of the kitchen and stops at Daichi’s side. Daichi pulls Kei into a side hug and can feel the way he trembles ever so slightly. He meets Suga’s eyes and—

Koutarou steps into existence at Daichi’s other side, already talking.

“You’ll never believe what’s— Oh. Suga. Hi.” Suga’s eyes narrow. “Shit.”

The bits and pieces of the cauldron scattered around the kitchen begin to rattle and clank against the floor behind him and Daichi braces himself for whatever is going to happen next.

#haikyuu #BokuDai #bokuto koutarou #sawamura daichi #hq writing #BokuDai fic

14 notes · View notes