#and boy do i want to get absolutely shit faced and forget about the world
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Yeah tv!Alex is so different and honestly I think in a good way!
Book!Alex was always like, 'ugh I hate working for MI6, why do they keep dragging me in, I just want a normal life, I don't care that much about a random person in danger'.
Tv!Alex is like 'I don't care about skipping school to go save the world because I care that people are going to get hurt and the department is doing jack shit so I feel a responsibility to do the right thing'.
It's very different and I think TV!Alex has a lot more compassion and care in him and wants to help others and would sacrifice himself for the greater good. He is his father's son, and I think it makes a lot of sense that way, and I like how morally strong he is in the show, and a lot more mature.
Not that I dislike book!Alex, of course I love him, but he's definitely more of a 'kid', which while accurate to his age, I do like watching a more adult and mature Alex. (tbf though I haven't read the new books yet so idk if his characterization has changed)
I hope we do get a post-uni show with the same crew and we get to see Adult!Alex working for the department.
While you're absolutely right about how book!Alex is more of a 'kid' and very reluctant to go on whatever mission of the week, TV!Alex feels far more naive and innocent than his book counterpart despite being older.
Because book!Alex does come through when the threat is real. He wants to protect people and the world, just not when he's being blackmailed into it. He cares enough that he willingly puts himself in danger for a boy he barely knows in Ark Angel without anyone prompting him to.
A lot of the time, he saves people or goes after villains because he knows that MI6 is useless. They demonstrated that over and over again to him while TV!Alex hunts them down to get them to do something before being smacked in the face with the reality of the Department.
I will say he is absolutely more stubborn about going back to school and staying 'normal' than TV!Alex, but again, that is because MI6 keeps pulling him back.
TV!Alex gets blackmailed by Blunt once. A car doesn't show up in front of his house or school every other week, so he can be shipped all over the world to almost die for some goal he barely comprehends. He isn't forced into dangerous fabricated situations where he has to turn to MI6 for help in exchange for doing their dirty work.
TV!Alex instead goes through one harrowing experience and is then told to forget it ever happened. He isn't beaten down and almost murdered every other Tuesday, so of course, he has a stronger hold on his morals but he isn't the mature one here.
In fact, he seems incredibly naive when he thinks he can waltz into a criminal organisation, get his revenge on the Department, and go back home as if nothing happened.
Book!Alex tells Scorpia up front that he could never be a killer, but he still participates in all the lessons like he's told to and seems to have a better understanding of his situation despite not having both Nile and Yassen laying it out clearly for him.
I think book!Alex is also far more willing to join up with Scorpia because of how awful MI6 is to him compared to TV!Alex's Department. He also goes into his first conversation with Rothman, just wanting to know more about his father. Of course, the fourteen-year-old idiot would go with the people who are "honest" with him and treat him with more respect (and I say this as someone who cannot read anything where Alex stays with Scorpia)
TV!Alex goes in with the idea that he can somehow destroy Scorpia, but he gets manipulated from the moment he contacts them. He runs on the grief and need for revenge that Scorpia injects him with almost the entire time he's there.
They're both their fathers' sons, but their arcs are very different. One is very drawn out, and the other is cut short with a happy ending.
(This is very personal speculation, but I think that if the TV series had continued and Alex's family had been "killed" just like Jack in Scorpia Rising, then Alex would've also absolutely shot someone)
So yeah... very different characters with different arcs. The comparison gets a bit murkier because of the different mediums, but I hope I got my point across.
I'm very curious what they would do with an adult!Alex because they'd have to come up with completely new material for that, and it would remove one of the main aspects of Alex Rider that I enjoy, namely that he's a kid who shouldn't be there.
Personally, I just want an adaptation of Russian Roulette.
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HQ BOYS WHEN YOU WEAR THEIR HOODIE TO SLEEP
OIKAWA: “aww~ oh my god” he coos, walking closer to the mattress where you’re already laid down on as his eyes were quick to find their way upon your figure. he lays next to you, arms immediately finding place around your waist as he softly nuzzles his nose against yours with a grin on his face. “tell me why didn’t i get the idea of draping you in my clothes? this is absolutely adorable.”
AKAASHI: as soon as your boyfriend opens the door to your shared bedroom he swears he almost falls to his knees. he stands by the door bewildered for a moment, and then a soft chuckle escapes from his lips, shaking his head as he slowly makes his way to your side of the bed with light footsteps, making sure not to wake you up. the bed dips when he sits next to you, a loving smile appearing over his features as his eyes find themselves gazing upon the fabric of his hoodie that you’re currently wearing. “this is what i come home to? i’m absolutely not complaining.”
KUROO: “my god.” he breathes out, giving himself a few moments to compose himself because he swears he saw glimpse of his hoodie on your body. his steps on the floor were on a fast pace and he’s immediately standing next to the bed to confirm his sight. and when he does confirm them right, he couldn’t stop the huge smile forming over his face as he heaves a low chuckle, looking down at your sleeping figure, “you really have me speechless over here pretty. it’s unfair.”
KAGEYAMA: he only realizes it after he lays down next to your sleeping figure on bed, sprawling the sheets over him and you as his arms immediately find place around you, and wait—why is this fabric so familiar? is this- oh my god. it’s his sweater! and he freezes, immediately looking down through the sheets just to make sure he’s not assuming anything. and yet there it is flawlessly showing itself right infront of his eyes. his own sweater, on you. oh my god, he thinks. oh my god oh my god oh my god, he rambles in his mind. he didn’t know what to do, however his only option was to sleep, but how could he when you’re like this? he didn’t get a good night’s sleep at all, all that’s in his mind was how extremely adorable you were in his hoodie that he beats himself up for not realizing it much sooner. he simply can’t control himself when it comes to you.
SAKUSA: it has been a long day, the only thing he’s been wanting to do as he gets home is to melt in your arms & forget about everything in the world. when he does get a glimpse of your figure the moment he enters the bedroom, he swears he could feel the hard thump on his chest as his eyes basically zooms in on his hoodie draped over your figure—all the more desperation that gives him as he stands there taking in the sight, then slowly making his way towards you, his stare never faltering away as if he’s praying in his head that this isn’t one of his delusions. but then again, when he does slowly, but surely, takes his place next to you, fingers carefully stroking itself against the fabric of his hoodie while he admires all of you in your glory—he just couldn’t stop himself around you, trapping you tightly in his arms as he nuzzles his nose against the side of your head. he lets out the deepest exhale, and finally, here he is, basking upon your presence, completely forgetting about everything in the world.
ATSUMU: the man is extremely, disgustingly in love with you. as soon as his eyes fall over the hoodie you’re currently wearing, he recognizes it faster than the speed of light and he swears he nearly drops down the floor. he curses out a “shit” in a whisper while sitting on the bedside with wide eyes. he couldn’t believe this is happening, and he probably thinks this has been the best sight he’s seen his whole life—better than seeing osamu upset over a loss or whatever. despite his heart banging against his ribcage that he could practically feel it from his ears, his gentle hands runs against the sides of your body while he pulls you impossibly closer to him so that his large figure is all over you. and god, he’s obsessed with the way you look in his hoodie.
#hi…. heh#this is so crusty god please i havent written in so long i’m so sorry#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu fluff#atsumu x reader#oikawa x reader#kuroo x reader#akaashi x reader#kageyama x reader#sakusa x reader#haikyuu x you
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A Friend in Need
You’ve finally had enough of your cheating bf and want to forget about him. Your friend Minho is more than happy to help you do just that.
Pairing: soft dom Lee Minho x fem reader
Trope: friends to Fwb?
Read time: 12 minutes approx.
MDNI // CW under the cut.
CW: alcohol, masturbation, fingering, blow job, cum swallowing, face riding, unprotected sex, choking, cream pie, soft dom /sub. Slight body insecurity.
🍷🍷🍷🍷
“So are you sitting on my face or am I fucking you over a table?” Minho grinned as you opened your front door greeted him. “I’ve got wine, condoms, and…” he looked in the plastic bag he was holding, “batteries for your toys. As requested.”
“Let’s start with the wine, I think.” You took the wine from him and made your way to your couch where you had two wine glasses waiting amongst a mountain of scrunched up tissues.
“Start with the wine?” Minho questioned. “I thought I was just picking up a few things you needed. Oh Shit!” Minho whistled, stopping still when he saw the state of your coffee table. “What did the fucker do this time to make you need an entire box of tissues?” He plopped down on the couch beside you.
“Oh, Minho!!!! I caught him fucking cheating on me. Again! In our fucking bed this time!!!!”
Minho blew out a breath taking the wine bottle back off you and immediately filling the glasses with the red then handing one to you.
“I’m so angry, Minho. I hate him! How could he?”
Minho wasn’t the least bit surprised. He knew you were dating a jerk. This was, Minho added it up in his head, the fifth time your boyfriend had cheated on you. This year. And he was pissed. Cunt. He thought to himself.
“Are you okay?” Minho asked softly, hiding the anger building in his chest.
You sat silently for a moment, deep in thought.
“I want to take you up on that offer.” You said bluntly. Minho was taken by surprise, sitting upright and stared at you blankly.
“If the offer still stands, that is. If the offer was real.” You added suddenly sounding unsure whether he was ever serious to begin with.
Every time your boyfriend would cheat on you, you’d confide in your long time friend Minho, and he would always offer to help you “forget that fucker’s name” by making “you cum so hard you’d never want to go back to him”. You’d always brushed it off as a joke. But when you came home yesterday to find your boyfriend in your shared bed, well, you were beyond livid. It was the last straw and you kicked him, and his little whore, out of your apartment. For good.
Now you needed to get your anger out of your system and forget the asshole even existed. That’s where Minho and his offer came in.
Minho examined your face and nodded slowly. “Okay,” he smirked. “So your shopping list was for tonight then?” He grinned. “Right. Operation Forget Your Ex. I’m down.” He said sipping the wine.
Your eyes widened. “Really? You’d help me do that? You’re not shitting me?”
Minho nearly spat out his drink he was so excited, although the circumstances weren’t ideal. But he played it cool, and boy was he far from shitting you. He’d been dying to show you how good fucking could feel. From what you’d told him, your boyfriend, no - ex-boyfriend now, barely even brought you to orgasm. It was an absolute shame. You deserved all the orgasms in the world. Tonight Minho planned to start by giving you at least three.
“Well, kitten, we’ll have to lay down some ground rules. Boundaries. Safe words and such.”
“Tentacles.” You piped up.
“What?”
“My safe word. Tentacles.”
“Riiiiight. Tentacles. Why tent- never mind.” He shook his head. “Do you want to be in charge or leave it to me?”
“What do you prefer?”
“I like to be in charge.”
“Okay, you’re in charge.”
“What’s your pain threshold? Do you enjoy spanking? Degradation? Praise?” he raised an eyebrow. “Any hard no’s?”
You stared at him like a deer in the headlights. "I-I'm not sure." you said, then gulped down the rest of your wine.
"Woah! Slow down, kitten." he lunged forward and took your glass from your trembling hands and placed it on the coffee table. Then he took your hands in his and held them tight.
"We don't have to do this. You know that right? I don't wanna take adva-"
"Please, Minho." You whimpered. "Please make me forget." You looked at him with soft eyes.
Minho suddenly felt nervous. He'd imagined fucking you plenty of times, and up until this moment he felt sure he'd have no problems in actually doing it. But now, faced with the reality of it, he was so fucking nervous.
But his dick throbbed, and you were the one asking, inviting him to do things to your body. He couldn't let his nerves get in the way and fuck up this chance.
He cupped your cheek and pulled you in for a soft kiss. The way you responded by moaning and parting your lips, was so tantalising that Minho couldn't help but deepen the kiss with a sense of urgency. You've got all night, he told himself. Don't rush this.
"So..." he peeled his lips off of yours. "do we need to replace any batteries for your toys?" he asked, reaching for the plastic bags.
You shook your head. "Just want you." you whispered.
Minho smirked at your admission. "I think we should take this to the bedroom so I can thoroughly fuck you." he said, taking your hand and picking up the box of condoms.
Minho tossed the condoms on the bed and pressed your back into your bedroom door. His hands caressed the sides of your waist before grabbing the hem of your top and pulling it up over your head. His fingers immediately found the clasp of your bra.
"Kitten?" he said low in your ear. "I'm not going to stop unless you say your safeword, or use the colour system. I need you to know that."
"Yes, I know." you moaned, as he squeezed your breast.
"I'm going to take your pants off now." he reached for the button on your jeans and locked eyes with you. Your arms came up to cover your bare torso.
"Kitten? Talk to me." he looked at you with concern.
"Minho. It's just that... the women you...um... normally hook up with are so glamorous."
Minho blinked rapidly. "Kitten, you're fucking perfect." he gently tugged you to stand in front of your full length mirror with him standing behind you. "Look at yourself." he whispered, pulling your arms down from your body so you couldn't hide.
You leaned back against his chest as he nibbled your neck. He undid your jeans, sliding them down your legs and helping you kick them off.
"You're the most gorgeous woman in the world." his hands explored your waist, stomach, hips. Then he took one of your hands in his and placed it on your stomach and making you caress yourself. He brought your hand up to cup your own breast, and then back down your body and between your legs over your panties.
"Feel how perfect you are." he said in a lustful tone. He pressed on your hand that was cupping your pussy. You whimpered and began to feel unsteady on your feet. You'd only had one wine.
"You're gonna take your panties off for me now." he said releasing his hands from yours. His hands moved back up your body, massaging your breast with one, the other splaying on your neck.
You slowly peeled your panties down, revealing your most intimate parts, and shimmying them off and flicking them to the side with your foot.
"Good girl. Now play with yourself." he squeezed your neck slightly causing you to lean your head back some more.
You felt so exposed standing fully naked in front of your mirror, leaning against a fully dressed Minho. Your friend.
Your eyes flicked up to him in the mirror. He was taking you in with dark eyes. Your core ached. His hardness was pressed into your back. Fuck!
"Touch yourself." he urged.
Your heart was pounding as you allowed your hands to explore your curves and soft skin. Your fingers found your pussy again and you parted your lips with your fingers. You groaned as you watched yourself. This was so erotic. So sensual.
"Are you wet kitten? Let me taste." he pulled your hand up to his mouth and sucked on your finger. "Fuck. Taste yourself." he swiped your fingers back through your folds and then into your mouth.
"I need to play with your pussy." He took a few steps back to sit on the edge of your bed and pulled you onto his lap. "Open your legs, that's it. Show me." He hung your legs over his thighs so you were open and on display in the mirror.
"Don't take your eyes off it." he said in a gruff tone.
Minho's fingers delved into your heat, inserting two all the way inside. He fucked you like this for several minutes before pulling them out and rubbing on your clit. Then he'd finger fuck you again, alternating between stretching you open and rubbing your sensitive bundle of nerves. You could feel your core tightening. Minho's fingers were magic as he played with your body.
The pretty sounds you were making had Minho straining in his pants. He wanted to sink his cock into you so fucking bad. But at the same time he wanted to take his sweet ass time. He wanted you to beg him to stop. He wanted you to be a whimpering mess.
By the fifth round of finger fucking you were clenching hard and soaking his hand as you came hard. Your chest was flushed as your breasts heaved. You looked so fucked out.
"Now, kitten." He said as calm as possible. "You're going to undress me now."
He watched you stand in front of him. He bit his lip as you fumbled taking his shirt off, your bare tits dangling in his face, and then his trousers, leaving him in just his boxers. "You've forgotten something." he quirked an eyebrow.
His cock visibly twitched when you dropped to your knees between his legs and hooked your fingers into the waistband of his boxers.
You tried to not let Minho see how nervous you were as you came face to face with his cock. You wanted to show him how much you wanted him right now. You wanted to show him how beautiful, how sexy he was making you feel, despite how self conscious you were.
You took his glorious cock in your hand and experimented with licking the pre-cum from the tip. He was hard for you. He was leaking for you. "Aren't you going to boss me around, Minho?" you purred, looking up at him through hooded eyes.
"Choke on it, kitten." he said not breaking eye contact. "Show me how much you can take."
Minho could barely contain himself as you sunk your warm, wet mouth over his shaft. He truly believed he was going to cum there and then. Maybe he could, and then get it up again to fuck you? It'd be pretty easy to get hard again when you were driving him crazy like this.
"That's it, beautiful. Make those pretty noises around my cock. That's it. Deeper, baby. You can take it. I know you can." he started to thrust his hips up, making you gag as his cock hit the back of your throat.
It turned him on immensely hearing you struggle. Your hand found his and when you placed it on the back of your head, he knew you were made for him. He held your head in place as he fucked into your throat. He watched your ass in the mirror and imagined what you were going to feel like with your cunt wrapped around his cock. He came hard with a loud moan. Your lips were pressed against his pelvis and tears ran down your face as he spurted cum down your throat.
He was almost instantly hard again when you slid your mouth off and opened it up to see you'd swallowed every drop.
“Ride my face." He panted.
“Oh Minho.” You shook your head. “I don’t think—“
“Safeword? Are you going to use it? ‘Cos I fucking want to eat you out.” He wrapped his arms around your waist, bringing you in for a kiss. “Please…I can make you feel so good. I need you to ride my face.” He was practically begging you.
Minho didn’t know what was happening to him. He was always so in control when it came to sex. He’d never said ‘please’, he always instructed, demanded even. But this was you. You were different. You stirred something in his stomach, and made his heart beat faster.
“Okay, Minho. But I’ve… you know…never done this before.” Your face went red.
So that fucker never got you to ride his face? He wondered if he’d ever eaten you out. He quickly shoved thoughts of your ex out of his head and focused on what he was about to do. Make you cum all over his face.
“It’s okay kitten, I’ve got you.” He shuffled more onto the mattress and laid back. “All you need to do is straddle my face, and sit.”
He made it sound so simple. But to you nothing could make you feel more vulnerable than what you were about to do. But the way he sounded so desperate for you to do it made you want to please him. You climbed up onto the bed.
“Na uh. The other way. You need to be able to watch yourself.” He grinned.
You swallowed nervously, but did as instructed. You watched yourself hover inches away from Minho’s face.
“Fuck, I can see how fucking wet you are. Quick, sit.” He hooked his arms around your thighs and pulled you down on top of him.
You cried out as Minho’s mouth met your pussy. He ran his tongue through your lips then sucked your clit.
“Shit, Minho… it… fuck you feel good.” You choked. Minho chuckled against your cunt, sending shocks through your body.
Your eyes went to the mirror. Seeing your reflection of being eaten out by the man underneath you and how you could be suffocating him, turned you on more than you could’ve imagined. Could he breathe? The thought of him struggling for air made you gush. You started to rock your hips and grind against his face. He moaned against your core in approval.
Your orgasm was close, and when he slipped his tongue into your creamy hole, and you ground your pussy hard and fast on his face, you cried out loudly as you flew over the edge. Your thighs were physically shaking around Minho’s head from the intensity of the orgasm.
Minho didn’t even let you recover before he had you on your back, legs pinned up near your chest. He kissed you sloppily, smearing your wetness all over your mouth. It was the best thing Minho had ever experienced, having his face buried in your pussy while you fucking rubbed your slick all over him.
He gazed down at you. He knew he was weak for you, but he didn’t know he had it this bad.
“You going to fuck me now, Minho?” You looked up at him.
Minho nodded. “Yeah.” He whispered “Let me just find the cond—“
“Don’t you want to feel me, Minho? Nothing in the way.” You purred, pulling him in for another kiss. The length of his cock pressed against your sopping pussy.
“Just the tip?” You whispered. “Just for a second?” You begged.
Fuck! He groaned at the temptation.
“Kitten,” he said sternly. “If I put it in it won’t be just the tip.” He slid his entire cock into your heat. The stretch, the fullness, made you gasp.
“And,” he growled, “It won’t be just for a second.” He partially withdrew his cock and slammed back in. “It’ll be until you beg me to stop.” He hammered into you. “I’m going to fuck you until you have to use your safe word.”
You felt so good around Minho that he highly doubted he’d be able to follow through on such promises.
“I’m never gonna use my safe word, Minho.” You cried as he pounded into you. “Feels too good. You feel good, Minho… oh fuck…Minho!”
The way you were crying his name catapulted him towards his climax. He wasn’t going to last much longer.
“You want me to fuck you forever?” He panted.
“I want… I want…you to…”
“What is it kitten, anything.” He meant it. He wanted to give you everything you wanted.
“Ch-choke me while you fill me up.” You squeaked.
Without slowing down, Minho searched your eyes. You were serious.
Feeling Minho’s cock so deep in your cunt, stretching you do deliciously, had you on the brink of your third orgasm. But when his fingers wrapped around your neck and squeezed, it made your core clench harder than usual.
You’ve never let anyone do this to you before, never trusting anyone enough. You only ever fantasized about it, watched porn, or experimented on yourself. You never dared tell anyone, especially your ex.
Your vision became blurry as a lightheadedness took over you. You felt fuzzy, floaty, and then you felt yourself coming back, taking in deep breaths before he’d squeeze again. You were certain Minho had done this before, and so you succumbed, letting him take control of your body, letting him choke you and bring you back as many times as he wanted, without any fear that he’d go so far as to render you unconscious. You lost track of how many times he did it. Five, maybe six times?
“This time you have to cum for me.” You heard him say. “Then I can fill you up. I wanna fill you up so bad, kitten.”
His hand squeezed around one last time and you felt yourself come undone. You squeezed around Minho’s cock like a vice and felt him release inside you. You felt like your entire body was exploding, until Minho let go of your neck and held your close, brining all the shattered pieces back together.
“You did so good, kitten. You’re back now. Safe I’ve got you.” He soothed as you began to sob. You’d never experienced anything so intense, so powerful in your life.
You fell asleep almost straight away, and Minho cleaned you both up while you nodded off. Sweet fucking Jesus he wished he’d have been able to do this with you sooner.
He watched you, dead to the world, marvelling at what had unfolded.
“I fucking love you y/n. I hope you’ll have me a little more permanently and never think about that dick ex of yours again.” He whispered as he laid down beside you.
He didn’t know you’d heard him.
🍷🍷🍷🍷
@channieandhisgoonsquad @itshannjisung @noellllslut @kangnina @weareapackofstrays @bethanysnow @vanillacupcakefrosting
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pspsps Zeff meeting Ayari 👀👀👀
oH YOU REALLY DONE DID IT NOW
zeff knows how much sanji loves kids.
he first noticed it when he was roughly turning into a teenager. around the age of 13-14. it isn't often that families come to the baratie. but when they do, sanji actually volunteers to wait tables when on normal understaffed days, zeff would have to drag him out of the kitchen kicking and screaming. he didn't understand it until he decided to watch sanji and everything made sense.
if one is the child of a pirate or a marine, you're bound to be a little fussy (case and point: sanji). and his boy was a natural at calming down fussy babies. those chubby little rascals would immediately stop crying when sanji would pick them up and carry them on his hip, taking everybody's order like usual. the parents would look at him gratefully, even allowing him so far as to let him wait other tables with their baby in his arms.
during sanji's break, he would play with them. if they won't stop crying, he'd ask patty or carne to heat up some milk or mushy vegetables to feed the kid. and more often than not, sanji would sometimes be seen with a sound asleep baby as he barks out the orders to a bewildered kitchen.
zeff asked him once if he wanted a baby sibling. sanji just laughed until his sides hurt.
"you can barely raise me, you old coot." he said in response with a bright grin that reminded zeff how much he loved this kid. "i'm better off as an only child. trust me."
(he does. trust sanji, that is. but he will never forget how his laugh sounded pained. like an echo of a terrible memory. he'll come to realize why after a long while.)
as sanji grew up, his natural gravitation towards children never wavered. in fact, kids often flocked towards him at the baratie, following behind him like little ducklings in a row. sanji's smile was softer on those days, the sparkle in his eyes as prominent as when sanji talks about his beloved all blue. the kids would hang onto his every word.
he doesn't know how qualified he is at knowing good parenting from bad parenting. but he did raise sanji for most of his life. his little eggplant turned out pretty decent by his standards.
so of course, it's a no brainer for zeff that if sanji would one day have his own kid, he'd be the best dad in the world.
"head chef?" patty says as he enters zeff's office. "someone downstairs really wants to meet ya."
"if they want a discount they better fuckin' run." he gruffly replies without looking up from the newspaper. "customer is always right my ass—"
"sir?"
"–and you know what's real upsetting? the fact that they think they're all hot shit! i don't care who you are. you pay to eat here–"
"chef-"
"–would be nice if i didn't get some dumbass like that for once—"
"chef, it's sanji!"
zeff has fought sea beasts, marine fleets, and pirates with a worse death wish than him. he has faced starvation, dehydration, massive bloodloss without batting an eye.
but nothing. absolutely nothing makes his heart jump more than hearing that his son has come home to visit.
"well what the fuck are you doing standing there, patty?" he bellows, standing up and stalking towards the open door. "you better be preparing a feast for my boy."
"actually, he's already in the kitchen cooking one himself."
zeff laughs. that sounds exactly like his boy, alright.
it took zeff all of two seconds to notice that sanji isn't alone.
the swordsman is there, hanging off his shoulder like it's nobody's business (and he's pretty sure sanji mentioned at one point that he had gotten his head out of his ass and finally got together with him. lord was that an ordeal). and it looked normal for a few seconds until sanji turned around to face zeff.
there was a child there.
strapped to sanji's chest with some sort of blanket-like contraption was a baby. it couldn't be more than two years old. its shrieks of delight echoed in the kitchen as it drooled all over sanji's suit. its hair was green – the same shade as that of the swordsman glued to sanji's side. and it was tied up into little pigtails that bounced as it moved.
"zeff!" sanji greeted, that same bright sunny smile plastered on his face. "come meet your granddaughter!"
his... what?
then he looked closer at her and it all made sense.
the curly eyebrows.
but it also made no sense at all. because the longer zeff stared at his granddaughter, the more confused he felt because how in the love of the all blue did sanji get a child that looked exactly like him and his idiot swordsman?
he was so much in his head that he didn't notice sanji take the kid out of her baby sling and hold her out in front of him. he was brought back to reality when one small hand wrapped around the end of his mustache with a continuous giggle. zeff stared at her, his whole world stopped on its axis. he never saw sanji as a baby. he wonders if this is the closest he'll get to experiencing that for the first time...
then the baby pulled on his mustache with a high pitched shriek that could reach the heavens.
"jiji!" the little girl squealed, now holding onto zeff's mustache with two chubby baby hands. zeff stayed rooted to his spot, transfixed by the girl's mere existence. but also there's a stirring in his heart that occurs when she smiles at him. she looks exactly like sanji. though with a lot less teeth.
"would you look at that, old man." zoro laughed as he gently pried his daughter's (????) fingers off of zeff's mustache. "you get her fifth word. congratulations."
on a normal day, (but god what even classifies as normal anymore?) zeff would have probably kicked that swordsman's chest in and sent him flying into the next room. but there's something about the way sanji's smile softens as he watches zoro play with the baby. his eyes mist over and the only reason he probably isn't openly crying right now is because zeff is right there.
there are precious few instances where zeff's seen sanji genuinely happy.
now is one of them.
he coughs roughly to get their attention. all three of them look up, sanji's gaze particularly nervous. but zeff just shook his head, figuring he'll ask all the dumb questions later, and holds his hands out expectantly.
"you gonna let your father hold his grandbaby or or ya just gonna hog her the whole time you're here?"
the laugh that escapes sanji's mouth has both zeff and zoro staring fondly at him. then when sanji transfers his baby girl into zeff's arms, sanji's smile is freer and more open than zeff's seen it in years.
"zeff," sanji says, smoothing down ayari's hair down with one hand, his other hand resting on zeff's bicep. a strong grip. a grounding force. "meet ayari. our little blessing."
ayari coos up at zeff and grabs his mustache again. sanji bends down slightly to rain her little face with a million kisses. zeff just stares at this all with the barest hint of a smile on his face.
yeah. he always knew sanji was gonna be a good dad.
genuinely i am in agony i love this family 😭 do you have any idea how much i was crying while writing this??? is it possible to get baby fever from your own oc zosan baby???
#niki's fics: she has your eyes#one piece#sanji#roronoa zoro#zosan#red leg zeff#niki's asks#oc: roronoa ayari
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There is literally no other way to interpret the side by side posters on Jamie's wall, the boy is bi! Roy and Keeley spend literally the whole episode thinking about Jamie, and then the end when they're all sat together? Oh my heart! Also I would love LOVE to know what Roy whispered to Jamie, but the proud looks from both Keeley and Roy at their boy during the match will sustain me for weeks
Like I'm not even kidding in the slightest when I tell you this episode was ot3 made canon for me. I don't even care what happens with the three of them in the finale, this was it. If the finale is bad for them I'm just going to forget it ever happened and pretend this was the final episode, I don't even care!!!
side-by-side posters?????? of ROY AND KEELEY?????? The reveal was glorious. I can't believe I didn't see it coming but when that door swung back, my jaw DROPPED.
Jamie getting injured on the pitch and then the drama of him getting back up and everyone thinking oh it's all right he's okay only for him to FALL AGAIN. And through all of that we got to watch the face journeys play out on both Keeley and Roy??? that was straight out of a million ot3 angst fanfics i was writhing internally
literally just, Roy and Keeley not actually getting back together (without him)...!!! dropping their hands as soon as he came in. Keeley's expression when Roy told her he didn't want to be friends. If you read my long ramble-y Roy/Keeley meta after last week's episode you'll know I've dreamed of times like these anon
something about Roy going to Keeley to ask her to fix Jamie only for her to be like "welp shit I ended up making him worse" was so glorious and funny and perfect even as it was heart-bending. I know we love to talk about Keeley's emotional intelligence compared to her boys, but at the end of the day they are truly 3 idiots 1 braincell. Keeley just gets to hold on to it the most. I love these dorks.
it was deeply vulnerable of jamie to bring Roy and Keeley with him to his house. like we're not talking about that enough, actually. It was clear he'd never brought Keeley there when they dated. Like, they didn't even know he had a Simon. And this was him completely letting them into his world in one swoop. Letting Simon give them a tour of the Jamie shrine unbothered while he cried to his mum. ???????? JAMIE
the final scene where they bring the champagne into the therapy room is everything to me absolutely everything it is the stuff of dreams and I can't believe we got an ot3 scene like that.
I think it's more fun that we don't know what Roy whispered because in our heads we now get to make it whatever we want. Like, okay, it was obviously, "we're fucking tonight," and WE all know that, but the general audience, who is largely blind, can still go on in their own little delusional bubble like "wow isn't it nice that Roy and Jamie are such good friends ! Surely Roy must've told Jamie good game :D" It was such a completely perfect way of doing it. Ted Lasso writers I never once doubted you (i lie)
there was sooooo much more I loved but yeah these are the talking points my current state of mind is oscillating between lol.
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I wanted to give my own quick interpretation of the scene where Atsushi... imagines? hallucinates? all those people while conflicted over what to do in the most recent chapter, because idk I haven't seen people talk about it that much?
See, the whole conflict with Atsushi in this arc is that he's replaced the constant demeaning of the orphanage director in his head with encouragement from his mentor, and he can control the tiger, and he supports the people around him... but Kunikida makes a point of saying (before everything went to shit) that while Atsushi's tiger is strong, he himself is still weak.
I don't think this has to do with Atsushi's character per se. I think it more so has to do with his still very simplistic views on people or the world - things are very black and white, good or bad. And when faced with a problem without a simple solution, Atsushi's unfortunate tendency is still to freeze up. This is not surprising - he may be 18, but he's a very... how do I put this... a very young 18. He hasn't had anyone teach him these things or guide him. He very much craves support and encouragement from others. He likely also didn't see much of the world outside the orphanage before he was kicked out either. And let's not forget how absolutely shot his self-esteem is. The fact that Atsushi functions and believes in the best in people as well as he does is testament to how kind-hearted and resilient of a person he is.
But here's the problem: Atsushi's self-confidence hasn't done much developing.
What Atsushi has learned throughout the story is how incredible the Agency as a whole is, and as he grows to learn and care about them and realize that he has been given a place to belong, he grows to support them in turn; pulls his weight in a number of increasingly badass ways (he caught a bullet with his teeth. GODDAMN). But all that confidence goes away the moment he is left alone. Atsushi has confidence in his own strength in a group - and only in a group.
Unfortunately, the Agency, though I believe well-intentioned, kind of enables this mentality in him. We see Ranpo, Kunikida and Kyouka in turn, who echo things they have said and would say to this situation.
"Don't you even know that?" Ranpo would ask this, rhetorically, and then solve it himself. Atsushi would not have time to come up with an answer of his own.
"Failure is unacceptable." Kunikida would say this and then act, no matter what. Atsushi would be left to follow what he does.
"You don't have to do anything." Kyouka would protect him. Atsushi wouldn't have to do anything because she would grab his arm and take over from there.
See what's happening here? These are no longer demeaning words from the headmaster (in fact, I want to reiterate that I believe they are all well-intentioned), but they still insinuate that Atsushi is incapable on his own. And indeed it's interesting that Atsushi sees these "visions" of Dazai guiding him all throughout the hunting dogs, sky casino and decay of angels arcs. I, for one, think this is just Atsushi's imagination and not a real vision (unless we get some evidence to the contrary in the future) but for now, it implies that Atsushi's self-confidence is still so abysmal that he has to imagine someone giving him advice and advising him on what to do - instead of being able to consciously admit these ideas are his own.
And then Fitzgerald shows up - "No one expects anything from you." Looming over him, a symbol of power and status over the panicked, conflicted form of a boy who feels eternally powerless without support.
And then it gets interesting.
Akutagawa shows up in Atsushi's mind, for the first time in a guiding role, not a demeaning one. And there's a definite reason for this - when Atsushi was all alone, when he admitted to himself he had no idea what to do and was terrified to be left to fight with no one else with him - who showed up?
Akutagawa. Akutagawa, who in spite of everything, fought by his side and was reliable. And the thing is, Akutagawa cannot take over, not in their kind of plans, or they just won't work. They have to work together. They have to be equals. And on some level, I think this part shows Atsushi's realization of the rather surprising amount of trust Akutagawa had to have placed in him - and him alone. I find it rather heartbreaking that Atsushi appears to have just now started to realize this after their plan failed due to a lack of trust (mostly on his side I'd say) and Akutagawa died.
So, Atsushi receives guidance from Akutagawa, and of course, from Dazai, the person he is extremely grateful for as a mentor. They don't tell him what to do. But still, Atsushi is guided into looking - "get out of your head" and moving - "the door is right there - do something about it". These "visions" still spur Atsushi into action, but the action itself? It's Atsushi's alone.
Atsushi still needs to justify his actions by imagining others giving him support, but this is definite progress for him restoring a sense of personal... agency (see what I did there?) within himself.
And yes, his eventual course of action is to find Fukuzawa and have him make the final decision on the matter - but really now, he's just been told something that apparently has Teruko (who I am certain is older than much of the cast and likely a former soldier from the war) drained and tired and seemingly conflicted herself - this isn't really the kind of issue you want to be deciding on all by yourself. Also, admitting you don't know what to do but moving forwards anyways to actively ask for advice or help is very much still making a decision and moving forward. Actively asking someone what they think about a complex situation is very different from being passive while others take control around you.
Atsushi made the decision to walk out that door into uncertainty. And I am convinced he's going to have to pick a course of action anyways - as of right now, Fukuzawa is out of commission, as are Dazai, Akutagawa, Ranpo and Kunikida (we don't know where Kyouka is yet).
It's been a long time coming, but this is serious progress for his character.
#i will say that it's interesting that the big previous self-informed idea atsushi had - working with the mafia against the guild#he also went to approach fukuzawa#i think there's something in that too but i'm too tired atm#to clarify though - in the guild arc he was very certain that the truce was the right decision#and here he is uncertain which is where his confidence consistently fails him throughout the story#anyways idk what people thought of this scene or what but this is how i read it? i guess?#bsd#bsd atsushi#bsd akutagawa#shin soukoku#sskk#bsd chapter 105#bsd meta#hope this wasn't entirely incoherent#if it was... sorry about that :/#storyrambles#editing to add in that i love atsushi so much. sweet tiger boy. he's such a good bean
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cyno hcs & scenarios!! (cyno x m!reader)
AHHZHZHZHSH MY FIRST REQUEST I FEEL SO PROUD <///333 if you send requests, please make sure to send me an ask!! it’s easier for me to reply to it. anyways yes cyno. i farmed for him so much, literally pissed myself trying to find those damn beetles he needs for ascension like tf :(
warning(s): fluff… & nsfw ofc.
would he sing to you? … absolutely not. would he carry you on his back through the hot dessert? … absolutely.
i know this man gets tired and used to the heat and the sun. so when he sees the snow? don’t even get me started.
the way he’d make snowmen and snow angels with you and genuinely laugh because of how much fun he has with you. PLEASE I’D DO ANYTHING I
it took him a while to open up to you in the beginning, but overtime he grew quite fond of you and your presence :)
you could probably see this as negative traits, but he’s very jealous and overprotective. most of the time, wherever you go, cyno also goes.
when your hands are cold, he’ll take both of your hands and shove them in his pockets to keep them warm. such a kind boy we love :(
he'll even slightly rub your hands from inside the pockets with his own fingers. if you're lucky.
his bad days are the absolute worst. i can picture him getting upset and frustrated easily. maybe not with you, but just with things in general. he likes it when you kiss his nose and his eyelids, when they're shut.
often times, he doesn't like to talk about things when he's upset. instead, he would rather just sit with you quietly in the comfortable silence. he wouldn't mind hearing your pretty voice, though.
^^ that's another thing!! cyno loves to hear you talk. it doesn't matter what it could be about, it could be able the dumbest or simplest of things. As long as he can watch you lovingly as you rant about everything and anything, he's happy :)
i could see cyno's love language being physical touch, but at the same time, he's unsure of how to express said love language, so he barely expresses it. YKWIMMM??
that being said, he sometimes forgets to show you basic human affection. you might have to ask for a kiss or two in a day, but that's okay, you love seeing his face lighten up when you ask for it <3
pet names?? lordy christ jesus fainting for this man. he would call you things like "my star" and "sunshine."
although cyno is overprotective and often times with you, he doesn't show much affection with you in front of others. or rather, he doesn't make it very obvious that you two are a thing. all people assume and see are two boys sitting... oddly closer to one another.
cyno is not the best cooker in the world... however, he loves when you try to teach him how to make pretty simple dishes! even though in the process of learning he seems annoyed, angry, upset, all of the negative emotions in the book, he really does enjoy it.
nsfw!!:
angry sex. a lot of it. idc.
he knows you're comfortable with him, and he's comfortable with you, so sex with cyno occurs pretty often.
a very dom top.
...however if you wanted to fuck him, he wouldn't mind at all
a lot of the times when you're giving him oral, or he's giving you oral, he has this sinister smirk plastered on his pretty face. makes my legs break every time dude fr
respectfully...... he likes standing doggystyle.
sex with him can be intimate, but a lot of the times it's just extremely hot and eager fucking
"oh, you want me to suck it so bad, don't you?"
def has a spit kink and into brat taming. am i wrong?? ...maybe into teasing as well.
he doesn't talk dirty a ton, unless if he's super into it. it is kind of quiet with him, but you don't mind
TOTALLY OBSESSED WITH GIVING YOU THIGH AND HIP KISSES I DONT CARE.
cyno is a pretty busy man, warding off evil n shit, so usually the sex is quicker and you can't go on for many rounds.
even if you could, multiple rounds probably wouldn't be necessary if we're talking about cyno
with that being said, the aftercare isn't... phenomenal. but if he's super needy and touch-deprived he'll stay just a bit long for you. when he does have the time, he will wipe you down and even give you a massage if needed :) !!
doesn't say much after it's done though. not so much awkward silence, just a bare type of quiet :(
i want this man so bad ong serve me justice too big boy
#genshin cyno#cyno#genshin smut#genshin impact#sumeru#genshin fluff#genshin fanfic#genshin fandom#cyno x y/n#cyno x reader#cyno x male reader
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Hiii! Congratulations!🎉
Could I request 2 & 106 with Max Verstappen🥵
Thank you!
2 - "Wait a minute, are you jealous?"
106 - "I'm going to fuck you until you forget that asshole's name,"
Thank you anon!! Angry Max just hits different. And a POV switch? Hope you likey
Warnings: SMUT!!! Jealous/possessive max
Prompt night info and list to request your own ficlet/HCs here!
He'd won.
He won the first-ever race in Miami. He was the F1 world champion. He won nearly every race he finished. He was funny, charming, and sweet when he wanted to be. He thought he was pretty good lucking, tall enough and he was ripped. He had nothing to be insecure about but somehow looking across the packed Miami club to where someone else was talking to you, he couldn't help but feel like the little boy left at the gas station.
Lost, sure, but also bubbling with rage. Boiling, in fact.
Max knew he was the jealous type, but he had no rights over you. You weren't his girlfriend, in fact, you were barely his friend. But that didn't stop the fact that he was seething, his stomach feeling like a ball of snakes as he watched the guy touch your arm. He was too close, far too close. Whispering in your ear, his other hand tucking your hair behind your ear. Max was gripping the beer bottle in his hand so tightly that his knuckles were white. He was vaguely aware of someone speaking in his own ear, another stupid American who didn't understand a thing about the sport.
You laughed, and his stomach dropped through the floor because, shit, what if you really liked this guy? In the dark of the club, with sweaty bodies packed in and multi-coloured lights sweeping the floor, anyone could look hot he reasoned. But still, who were you to be flirting with anyone who looked at you? Well, you, he guessed. Because he knew you belonged to no one.
Max had met you a few months ago. You worked... somewhere in the paddock. He'd been meaning to ask you for a while but the problem was, whenever you were around Max didn't want to do much talking at all. You didn't seem to mind, because every time he saw you it ended up the same way. In his driver's room, against one of the lorries, in the back of his car, he didn't care so long as it was you that he was coming undone over. It was strictly casual, he knew that, no strings attached. You barely knew anything about each other but that didn't stop the fact that he was completely consumed by you.
Especially when you were here, in that stupid little dress and those stupid heels that made your legs look like literal heaven, shaking your hips to the beat of the music. He could have fucked you right there on the dance floor. Except you'd not even looked at him once.
He didn't understand it. Girls at these parties loved guys, especially the drivers themselves. And the winner? He was usually drowning in attention, he had the pick of the bunch if you will. Maybe that was why he was so obsessed with you because you were absolutely not obsessed with him.
The guy's hand landed on your ass, and even at this distance, Max could see him moving closer to you and his fingers closing around the soft flesh. He leant his head down and Max found himself completely and totally fixated on you, begging please god please don't let him kiss you, and the relief when you ducked out at the last second, allowing him access to your neck only. Still, it was enough for Max.
He downed the rest of his beer and cut his way quickly across the dancefloor. He must have had that glower he was constantly being told off about on his face because no one tried to approach him or congratulate him, and it took him less than a song's length to get close to you. Now you were so close he found himself freezing. He didn't know what to do, what if you actually wanted to be with the guy that was wrapping himself around you instead of him?
He was about to turn around and leave you to your night of fun when you spotted him. You held his gaze with confident ease and Max realised that there was no way he could leave you there even if he wanted to. He felt like a deer caught in headlights, his mind slow to catch up with his body. He decided to ignore the guy, which was hard because the little voice in his head that usually made him win races was currently screaming at him to punch him in the face and not stop until he didn't get up.
"Can I have this dance?" He finally managed, and there was a not-so-secret part of him that was thrilled when you immediately dropped the guy, who looked a little disappointed, but very quickly shrugged it off when he saw who Max was, and left the pair of you to it. You wasted no time on getting to work with Max. Your hip-shaking and twisting hands seemed aimless before, except now they were on him. Max's pants were uncomfortably tight within seconds and he could feel his resolve already dissolving right before his eyes. You were an angel, or maybe a sorceress. Because you had him under some kind of spell for sure.
Throwing all caution to the wind Max grabbed your wrist and before the song had finished you were out of the club and walking home. He didn't hesitate to put his jacket on your shoulders. It was a mild night in Miami, but you just looked so damn good in his clothes.
"Who was that?" He couldn't sound light and curious if he tried.
"Why?" He hated that you sounded so light, so unbothered.
"I just want to know," he knew he blew it already. His voice has that textbook sulk.
"Wait a minute, are you jealous?" How had you clocked on so easily? Was he that transparent around you? Your eyes were sparkling, the smile tugging at your lips teasing him, begging him to come closer to you. Max gritted his teeth. Admitting his feelings was hard enough on a good day, but now? A little drunk in front of a girl he barely knew? If he didn't think it might just give him the edge on you he would have stayed silent.
"Yes," he forced the word out, and the reward was oh so worth it. Your eyes widened, lips, full and pink and begging to be kissed, puffing out, a silent 'Oh' escaping you. Max was done. He picked up the pace, you falling into his quickstep and he didn't dare look at you or say another word to you until you were inside his hotel.
He took the stairs, three flights. It was stupid and time-wasting, but he couldn't trust himself in the lift with you. He'd fuck you against the mirror without a second thought for the CCTV cameras.
He pulled you inside his hotel room, and turned you, pushing you against the wall. Your chest was rising quickly, giving it away that maybe you liked this too. He couldn't wait any longer, his lips crashing onto, the turmoil of emotions he'd been building in the club exploding like a geyser as he pushed them all onto you. And you, Jesus fucking Christ, you.
You were moaning right into his mouth, your tongue battling with his, your hands raking through his hair, pulling harder than you needed to but it felt so damn good. You felt so damn good. It was primal, Max knew that, but he didn't care. He had gone past the point of no return and he needed you now.
"I'm going to fuck you until you forget that asshole's name," he spat, not angry in the slightest with you but the thought of that guy touching you made the rage boil within him once more and before you had time to argue he had your thighs wrapped around his waist and he was thrusting into you with relentless force and fuck it was so good and you were so tight. You were making filthy sounds, his name rolling off your tongue with every thrust. Max couldn't even kiss you because he knew he'd cum the second he did.
The feeling of you contracting around him hard and screaming his name, and his name only was enough. He came so hard he saw stars, and you.
You caught his lips in a sweet kiss and Max knew he didn't have a prayer against you.
#word counts are relative lol#1.3k prompt night#this is getting busy i LOVE IT#max verstappen#hot max#angry max#max verstappen smut#max verstappen x reader#max verstappen imagine#formula one#F1
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penn badgley (circa 2015) x female!reader.
warnings: smut. lmao.
hi i don't know if people even read penn badgley/joe goldberg fics at this point but i am obsessed with this man and wanting to swallow his kidz so. lmk how u like it lol.
-wulf hailey
————
laying on my floor and listening to music louder than most humans should physically be able to withstand is probably one of my favorite past times.
especially with my eyes closed, which might not really be a good idea. there could be a murderer waiting in the shadows at any given moment.
yeah, oka-
"holy shit!"
something knocks at my window and i scramble up and backwards looking for a weapon and end up with a shoe. i mean, at least my reflexes are fast. ish.
i hear a deep laugh come from the window and realize who and what scared the absolute shit out of me. my best friend in the whole world, penn. not to mention my crush for the past 11 years since him and his family moved in next door. another boy-next-door cliche, huh?
i turn down the music to a normal volume and walk to the window, shoe still in hand.
"penn dayton badgley, you scared me half to death!" i scream, smacking him in the arms with every word. he giggles maniacally.
"you should've seen your face! holy shit that was the best thing i've ever seen!"
“you aren't funny." i say, my cheeks burning . i roll my eyes and pull him inside. he falls through the window and lands on his ass, springing to his feet in the blink of an eye.
he's wearing my old, triple sized, brooklyn nets sweater (we have jointly never watched one basketball game in our lives) and a pair of grey sweats. classic.
"cat like reflexes. unlike you." he laughs, grabbing the shoe from my hand. "really?"
"you cant blame me! what weapons would a teenage girl have in her bedroom?"
he gives me a blank stare.
"hey, i wasn't near any of them!"
i sit back on the floor, while penn flicks through my records. he picks a few out and shows them to me. childish gambino, chance the rapper, and the cure.
"what a spread." i say sarcastically.
"whatever, you big bully. pick one."
"definitely the cure. you already knew before you asked."
"i know i just wanted to be cute." he fake pouts as he puts the record on and sits down by my side. plainsong starts to play, and i nod my head to the melody.
"yeah, it's too bad you suck too hard to be cute." i reach up to push his head of scruffy brown hair and he fake dies with his hand over chest.
“how could you say that? now i’m doomed to an eternity aloooooone…”
"get up, hamlet. this isn't theatre." i laugh. "you're so dramatic, it's almost cute."
"you think i'm cuuute." he snickers and pushes me over slightly.
i bob back up. "i said almost."
"yeah, whatever." he says, getting up to turn up the music. i get up to go and sit on my bed, "the grounds really hurting my ass.".
he turns to me and turns back to the record player. "boohoo, how do you want me to fix it for you?"
i cross my arms and pout. "maybe i wanted you to kiss it for me."
"ew, gross. you have cooties." he chuckles as he sits down on my bed, pushing me over to get more room.
"it's not my fault you're so long." i laugh. "maybe you should lose a few inches."
"you know what? you're right. i think some parts of me are too big. i think people might get jealous." he says, cockily.
lovesong starts, and it makes me forget whatever he's talking about. "shut up and let me listen to my music, you fucking nerd. you know this is my favorite!"
he realizes and closes his mouth in the middle of his "hey!". i close my eyes and he does the same.
whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am home again
whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am whole again
i feel a thumb brush my cheek, and i open my eyes slowly to see penn's deep brown eyes staring down at me. they almost look black.
"what are you doing?" i choke out, wishing i had never said them in the first place. my cheeks are red hot, and i wish his hand wasn't on it so he couldn't physically feel my embarrassment.
"are you nervous?" he asks, his big brown eyes searching for an answer in the cast expanse of mine.
whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am young again
i loosen my shoulders, that i didn't even know were tense, and look up at him fully.
"no."
whenever i'm alone with you
you make me feel like i am fun again
as soon as the last ounce of word comes out of my mouth, his mouth has replaced it. his full lips press into mine and i see fireworks going off behind my closed eyes. i squeeze them shut and push into him harder, taking his bottom lip into my teeth and biting it, maybe a little bit hard.
his big eyes open and look at me. i can feel them and i look at him, too. i let go of his lip softly, seeing it pull back to his teeth. it feels like a fucking eternity until he nods and pulls my leg over his till i'm on his lap.
he presses his raw lips into mine, his hands on my hips, squeezing them and leading them slowly onto the bulge in his sweatpants. i can't help but let out a breathy moan, immediately clapping a hand over my mouth.
penn looks up at me with those gorgeous puppy eyes and i forget my fucking middle name. he takes my hand down from my mouth and puts it to his, putting my thumb into it and letting it rest on his bottom teeth. the sight makes me melt into a puddle, and i fall back into his kiss again.
however far away
i will always love you
we both let out little pants, both of our mouths constantly open like we were scared that if we closed them, we would never be able to open them again.
however long i stay
i will always love you
i felt his hand slip down the back of my pants, stopping for a second to grip my ass in the nicest way possible, before his two middle fingers reached my clit. he twirled his fingers around and then slid them up.
"you're so fucking wet." he moans, barely getting the words out. "are you always like this?"
i nod slowly. "it's kind of embarrassing."
he grabs me by the bottom of my chin, pulling me back to his mouth. he slowly circles and teases me, while putting a hand up my shirt to play with my nipple.
he pauses, and pulls back. he puts his thumb up to my mouth, and slides it in. he looks at me with those deep brown eyes, and my mouth closes around his thumb, sucking on it.
he takes it out and rubs the cold wetness on my nipple, making me yelp a little before clapping a hand to my mouth once again.
penn takes my hand down again, looking at me.
"don't cover your mouth. i want to hear all the little things you say when i'm not here."
"penn- holy fuuuck." i squeak out, before he flips me back over to my back and climbs on top of me. he grinds on top of me, his hard dick sliding up to my clit perfectly.
"oh my fucking god, i need to be inside you." he almost whines, his teeth gritted and eyes closed in euphoria.
“please, penn. i need you so bad..” i trail off into sweet nonsense.
he looks at me with a sweet smile. "i've always seen the way you look at me. those pretty eyes. i've always wanted to see them like this."
"like what?" i hesitantly ask.
"hungry for me."
i'm genuinely speechless, and i guess he can tell, so he kisses me with so much animality that i can barely breathe. his lips lead down to my jaw, down my neck until i finally sit up and take my shirt off.
"wow, how smooth." he snickers, planting kisses down and around my chest.
"shut up, penn." i say, breathily. my mind is going a million miles an hour, yet i cant point out a single thought.
in a swift second, my pants are off, with no help to penn, of course. i cant believe this boy can tie his own shoes sometimes.
"what did you say?" he asks, his voice calm and collected.
"i said shut up, penn." i laugh. "you don't scare me."
"i don't wanna scare you." penn whispers, his hand slipping down into my panties. i automatically feel his fingers at my clit, and i feel another hand at my throat.
"i just wanna touch you." he smiles, going down my stomach again and littering it with kisses.
"i wanna feel you." he says kissing my thighs, softly. i buck my hips up with every kiss, a white hot fire between my legs. well, actually 2.
"i wanna love you." he says, looking up at me. his eyelashes tickle my thighs, and i look down at him, my eyes wide.
"and i wanna fucking ravage you."
"p-please." is the only word i can get out before he pushes a long, slender finger inside me.
"oh my fucking god." he moans, his head falling onto my thigh while he pushes his finger in again. "i cant believe you can get this wet."
"it's all f-for you. goddd, it's all for you."
he smiles up at me. "i know. do you know how long i've been waiting for this? god, you're so fucking perfect." he says, sliding his tongue from his fingers up to to my clit and i shudder.
"holy fuck, penn." i moan, running my hands through his long brown hair, gripping onto it and bucking my hips up.
he moans against my pussy, the vibrations shooting up my body, making explosions go off in my mind. he pushes his fingers in and out, sucking on my clit with ease.
he comes back up to kiss me, adding another finger inside me.
"are you ready, baby?" he asks me, sweetly. i nod, a little too aggressively and he chuckles, unbuckling his belt and shucking his pants off and throwing them somewhere to the floor.
he kisses me, his tongue sliding inside my mouth. i suck on it, making him moan into my mouth. he grabs his dick, teasing me with it by sliding it up and down, looking me in the eyes.
he slides it in, slowly, gritting his teeth and breathing out a moan. "you are so fucking beautiful. god, you're so beautiful." he chokes out.
"mmmph, penn. fuck, you're so good- "
"a-ah, fuck baby. you feel so fucking good. i don't ever want to fucking l-leave, fuck, babe." he brings my leg up above my head, going as deep as he can. the headboard is smacking the wall so hard it's nearly chipping at the drywall.
“p-penn, im gonna c-"
"it's okay, baby, i've got you. i-im going to, too, fuck-"
penn's eyes damn near roll back into his head, as he groans out the most guttural and gorgeous moan ever known to man as we both cum at the same time.
"holy fuck, baby, you're gripping me s-so fucking h-hard." he says, his eyes squeezed shut, leaning on top of me and biting my shoulder.
i take a sharp inhale, the pain subsiding to pleasure as i buck my hips up, making penn shudder and moan before he pulls out and lays next to me.
i take time to catch my breath before i feel a pair of arms wrap around me. i look over to see penn looking at me with those big brown doe eyes, and i look away, embarrassed.
he turns my face towards him, closing his eyes and pressing his lips onto mine. i smile into his mouth, our tongues fitting together perfectly.
we pull away at the same time, and he's already smiling at me. he's almost laughing.
"what are you laughing about?" i start laughing because he's laughing.
"nothing, nothing. i just-" he hesitates. "i've been waiting for that for so fucking long." he kisses the top of my head.
"me, too. that was perfect." i respond. i literally cant stop smiling.
it's silent for a little bit. it's a beautiful, comfortable silence.
"would you want to be my girlfriend?" he finally asks.
my eyes widen, and i look back up at him.
“are you serious?" i ask. "i cant tell if you're joking."
he looks at me, his eyebrows furrowed. "are you crazy? i've wanted you since i've moved here. it's definitely fate."
"you're such a fucking nerd." i say, giggling. i kiss him on the forehead.
he gets up to pull on his pants, and walks over to the records he picked out.
"because the internet. of course." i roll my eyes at him.
"you don't get it. donald glover is a musical fucking genius, baby."
he comes back and lays down, pulling me into his arms and resting his head on mine.
no matter what you say or what you do
when i'm alone i'd rather be with you
fuck these other niggas, i'll be right by your side
till 3005
hold up.
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from @thatonebylershipper, to @cowboylikewren
Studying with Will Byers is one of Mike Wheeler’s most favorite pastimes. Will is always being adorable, making little quips about how much he hates his assignment or what should they do when they’re done doing homework or “Miiiiiiiike, are you almost doooooone?” because he wants someone to pay attention to him. He’s very cute-- not that Mike would ever say that to him, however, because that would be weird because they’re not dating or anything.
“Oh my god it’s snowing!” Will exclaims from somewhere above Mike. The latter turns and catches a glimpse of soft white flakes falling to the ground outside their dorm’s window. They’ve been awaiting snow for weeks; it’s been a very foggy, dreary winter up until now.
“MikeMikeMikeMikeMike can we go outside?” Will says excitedly.
“I don’t know, can we?” Mike says with a shit-eating grin because he is the World’s Most Annoying English Major To Exist Ever. Will rolls his eyes, used to Mike’s antics by now.
“Yes we can. May we go outside?”
“Absolutely.” Mike hauls himself to his feet and extends a hand to Will to help him off the bed. No one needs to know that Mike feels electricity jolt through his veins whenever he touches Will.
Will, as usual, does not put on enough layers, ready to go after only putting on a navy blue hoodie that looks suspiciously like Mike’s. Mike decides to let it go for once.
Upon stepping into the cold, Will runs out to the open stretch of pavement, arms stretched wide and tongue out to catch snowflakes in his mouth. Mike feels a warm blush creeping its way up his neck, reaching his cheeks in no time. He’s sure he looks like an idiot, smiling so hard his cheeks are aching, fondness for his best friend dripping from him like the honey that Will puts in his tea.
Mike feels like he might die, filled with so much endearment for his boy, when Will spins around and looks back at Mike, eyes bright and tufts of hair poking out messily from under his beanie like it always is. Mike wants to brush it out of his face.
“Come on!” Will calls. Mike laughs and takes off running to catch up with his best friend, who starts running as well and then it turns into a game of chase, Mike racing after Will. One of them is going to slip on the icy ground and eat shit.
Mike has the advantage of having freakishly long legs and is right on Will’s heels in no time. Will looks over his shoulder and yelps in surprise, not noticing a crooked brick in the sidewalk. His toe catches it and he stumbles, heading straight for the ground. Mike doesn’t think about his actions when he reaches out to grab Will’s bicep, spinning him around, and, not having the strength to counter their momentum, gets pulled right down on top of Will. Thankfully, he catches himself so he doesn’t completely crush Will, but now his arms are bracketing Will’s head.
Mike feels his breath catch. They both go quiet and stare at each other for a moment. It’s no one’s business but Mike’s if he glances at his best friend’s pretty pink lips, which are parted slightly in surprise.
“Heh, sorry,” Mike says breathlessly, shattering the moment (not that it was a moment, moments are for couples and they are not a couple) and rolling off of Will as quickly as he can. Surely his face is nearly crimson by now. God, how embarrassing.
“Um. It’s okay,” Will replies, also slightly out of breath. It’s probably from running. Will helps Mike to his feet and they continue with their walk like nothing happened.
Small things like this are always happening; moments of tension where Mike thinks they might be about to kiss. But then they never do and Will seemingly forgets about it immediately. But it’s fine because Will does not like him like that.
💛💙
The snow has melted by morning, something that Will is quite upset about, the disappointment on his face a clear indicator.
“Hey, it’s okay,” Mike reassures him. “I’m sure it’ll snow again soon.”
Will nods, letting out a very dramatic sigh and flopping back onto his pillows, staring disdainfully at the ceiling for a moment before whipping out his phone to continue scrolling on whatever. Mike huffs out a laugh. Will is way over dramatic sometimes and it never fails to endear Mike and make him laugh.
They stay like that, in their own little bubbles for a while. Eventually, Will speaks up. “My head hurts,” and he sounds a bit congested when he says it. “Can you get me some ibuprofen?”
Mike never lets this opportunity go. Without missing a single beat, he responds “I don’t know, can I?”
Will rolls his eyes, a tired smile stretching across his lips all the while. “Will you get me some ibuprofen?”
“Of course. Yeah you don’t sound so good.” Mike gets the thermometer as well because usually when Will is sick, it always comes with a fever, unfortunately. Will takes the pills in one hand, the glass of water in the other, and leans forward so Mike can take his temperature. Mike sucks in air through his teeth. “101. Yeah, you’re staying home for a bit, sorry.”
Will throws back the pills, grumbling all the while. “What am I supposed to doooo? I have to do that painting of my family and--”
“Stop,” Mike interrupts. Will falls quiet, scowling at nothing in particular. “You’re going to rest and you can do all that stuff that you’re thinking about when you’re better. Also I know that you’re sneaky so I am also going to stay here with you to make sure you don’t try to go to class.”
“What? No! Then you’ll miss your classes,” Will tries.
“It’s almost winter break, we’re not doing much. Plus my professor posts the notes on his website. It’s not that big a deal for me to stay here.”
“But--” Mike raises his eyebrows and folds his arms like the stubborn bitch he is. “Fine,” Will mumbles, seemingly trying to sink into his mattress.
“Thank you,” Mike says, probably sounding a lot more smug than he means to, taking Will’s glass back from him to put on his side table next to Mike’s own water glass.
That night, Mike goes out to get soup and cold medicine for Will, whose fever somehow went up throughout the day and who now looks significantly more weary, sweaty bangs and pink cheeks that Mike hadn’t noticed initially. They didn’t have the right stuff at their dorm so Mike had to go get the medicine that would work the fastest since Will really hates being sick.
“Thank you,” Will mumbles when Mike gets home and shows him his options. “You didn’t have to get more than one kind.”
“I know I didn’t have to. I wanted to. I know you like having options.”
Will murmurs another “thank you” under his breath, picking the honey flavored nighttime medicine. He finds out very quickly that it does not taste great at all. It makes him drowsy almost instantly, however, so Mike counts it as a win.
“G’night, Mike,” Will says sleepily, once the lights are off. Mike feels himself smile, a warm feeling flooding his stomach.
“Goodnight, Will,” he replies softly into the darkness. Mike goes to sleep warm inside and without a care in the world, because across the room from him is the boy he loves.
💛💙
Mike is distracted from writing when his best friend lets out the most drawn-out, pathetic, congested groan he’s ever heard. He laughs, spinning in his chair to face Will. “What’s wrong?”
“Everythinggggg,” Will grumbles, burrowing deeper into his blankets. “Can you get me another tissue please?”
And because Mike is a bitch, he replies, with a stupid grin on his face, “I don’t know, can I?”
Will’s answering glare burns right through him but he laughs and stands up to get Will a tissue anyway. As Will blows his nose (dramatically loudly, in Mike’s opinion), Mike pushes his damp hair off his forehead to feel for a fever. “I don’t think you’re any warmer but you’re definitely not any cooler, sorry dude.”
“Don’t dude me,” Will says, still frowning. He’s always so grumpy when he’s sick, which yeah, checks out, but Mike thinks it’s adorable.
“Do you need anything else?”
“I don’t know,” Will pulls his blankets over his face. Mike laughs again, catching a glimpse of the window, on the outside of which snow is falling through the velvety black of the winter night sky.
“Ooo, it’s snowing again,” he tells Will. “I told you it would.” Will throws his blankets off and then seems to immediately regret it, shivering and pulling them back on top of him.
“You’re not going to let me go outside to take pictures, are you?” Will says flatly, sounding like he has no hope at all that Mike will let him, even though he’s asking anyway.
“Yeah, no,” Will glares again. “But,” Mike adds, “I could go take some for you.”
Will lights up. “Wait really?” Mike nods. “Oh that would be so great! You’re the best.”
“Of course,” Mike would do anything for Will, especially when it makes him smile like that, but Will doesn’t need to know that. Plus Will loves taking pictures of snow and since he’s bed-ridden with the flu, the least Mike can do is take some pictures for him.
In his haste to leave, Mike somehow forgets socks, shoes, and any sort of jacket or coat, so he’s hit all over with freezing air, goosebumps immediately rising on his arms. The snowy pavement is already numbing his feet as he makes his way to the streetlamp that Will always takes pictures of when it snows. It takes a couple minutes to find a good angle. Mike wants the pictures to be perfect for his best friend.
“Oh you idiot,” Will says when Mike finally returns, shivering. Mike raises his eyebrows. “You didn’t wear your fucking shoes or your fucking coat and now you probably have fucking frostbite because you’re an idiot what were you thinking?”
“I… forgot?” The word lilts up at the end like a question as though that could spare Mike from Will’s wrath. Will cocks a brow. He’s definitely not convinced. “Okay, okay, okay I’m sorry. I don’t have frostbite though.”
“Just--” Will cuts off, biting his bottom lip and seemingly considering something. “Come here.”
Mike freezes. “What?”
“Come here,” and to further express his words, he pulls the blankets back just enough for another person -- Mike -- to get in with him. Mike blinks. “You’re obviously cold and I’m way too warm. It just makes sense.”
Well Mike guesses he can’t argue with that. Plus, you know, cuddling with Will. True to his word, Will is way too warm and getting under the blankets where all his body heat has been trapped for hours, feels like a furnace. “Jesus christ, Will, are we sure your fever hasn’t gone up?” He presses a hand to Will’s pink cheek and Will flinches away.
“Jesus-- Are we sure you don’t have frostbite? Your hands are really cold.”
“I’m fine,” Mike feels like he’s being awkward, perched on the edge of the bed -- Will’s bed -- but he thinks if he gets any closer the butterflies that are erupting inside is abdomen right now might rise up to his chest and then he might start screaming, which is definitely not a preferable outcome to this situation.
“Get comfortable, you weirdo,” Will laughs, smirking at Mike. Mike must look like he has no idea what is happening because Will rolls his eyes and pulls Mike closer to him, throwing the blankets over them both. Okay so now they’re like, cuddling. That’s cool. (It’s not. Mike is going to die.) “There’s no need to be so stiff,” Will remarks, still smirking that stupid smug little smirk. “I promise I don't bite.”
Mike rolls his eyes, trying to force himself to think coherent thoughts, a task that is becoming increasingly more difficult, due to the breath-taking proximity of Will Byers. In retaliation for unintentionally making Mike so flustered, Mike sticks his numb feet under Will’s bare calves. “Mike!” he squeaks, pulling his knees up. He pokes Mike’s shoulder. “You’re an idiot, how did you forget socks and shoes? You had literally just said that it was snowing and then you went outside in sweats and a t-shirt with no shoes. Dork,” he adds, poking Mike again.
“I don’t know, I am capable of many things,” Mike says, trying to touch Will with his cold feet again. “And it’s your own fault for wearing shorts.”
“Freak,” Will says, grinning all the while. “Can I see the pictures?”
“Oh yeah!” Mike leans to the side to take his phone out of his pocket. Will already knows his password, so he’s not self-conscious when he types it out to unlock the screen.
“Oh wow,” Will breathes. “Those are beautiful, Mike.”
“I did my best,” Mike says proudly, swiping through the multiple pictures he took of the streetlamp, icy flakes swirling around in the yellow light.
“You did a great job, thank you so much,” Will manages before breaking off into a coughing fit. He pitches forward with the force of it and Mike winces out of sympathy, rubbing Will’s back.
“Yeah, let's get some medicine in you and then you need to sleep,” Mike says, sliding out of Will’s bed when the coughing stops. He misses the warmth immediately, feeling extra cold in the places where he and Will were pressed together.
“Fine,” Will grumbles, but it sounds more like “find”.
“Do you want the honey flavored one or the blue one,” Mike asks, digging through the basket on his desk; he’s just been leaving it out since Will needs different medicine for night and day and he likes having the choice to pick which flavor he wants, even though all of it is gross.
“Um… blue,” Will says miserably, sniffling. He sits up when Mike brings it to him and chokes it down with a grimace, poking his tongue out in disgust. He accepts the glass of water Mike holds out to him with a grateful smile.
Mike goes to get in his own bed but halts when Will speaks. “Mike?”
“Hmm?”
“Can you…” he hesitates. Mike turns around to look at him.
“Can I what?” he says softly.
“Can you stay with me?”
Mike holds in his stupid joke this one time. His crossed arms fall to his sides and he lets a warm smile cross his face. “I’m not going anywhere, ya goob.”
Will’s feverishly pink cheeks seem to get a shade darker as he looks down at his fidgeting hands and says, “Yeah but… over here.” He pats the spot on the bed where Mike had been just minutes ago. Mike blinks.
“Uh-- sure, yeah,” Smooth, Wheeler, he thinks, cringing internally. Will smiles and scoots over to make room for Mike, not noticing (or maybe he did notice and he’s just being nice to Mike) Mike’s awkwardness. Will grabs Mike again and pulls him close enough that Mike’s right arm is squished and he doesn’t know what to do about it. “Um, Will, my arm is a little… stuck.”
“Oh, sorry,” Will moves a little bit and Mike pulls his arm out but now it’s just hovering above them and he doesn’t know where to put it. Will laughs. “Mike, just-- there.” And Will wraps Mike’s arm around himself and snuggles even closer into Mike’s side. Yeah okay so Mike is like, properly dying now. “Is that okay?” Will asks, looking up at Mike with tired eyes.
“Yeah,” Mike breathes, still sounding calmer than he feels even while out of breath.Will seems satisfied, though, leaning back into Mike. After a few minutes Mike can tell the medicine is kicking in because Will’s head keeps leaning forward or backward slightly before he jerks back awake.
“Here,” Mike murmurs, guiding Will’s head to rest on his shoulder. Will tenses for a moment before completely melting into the touch.
“Thanks,” he whispers.
“Of course,” Mike whispers back. It takes everything in him to not press a kiss to Will’s fevery forehead. Will is asleep in only minutes, Mike not far behind him, resting his cheek on Will’s head. Mike doesn’t stop smiling, even after sleep takes him under its spell.
💛💙
Mike stumbles through the door with a frustrated huff. He had a very long day and almost nothing went right. First he missed his alarm, which made him late for work, then he had to deal with some of the rudest customers he’s ever dealt with while on a shift with a coworker that hates him, then he dropped a tray of dishes and had to stay an extra 34 minutes after his shift to clean it up. To make matters worse, he now has a cut stretching across the palm of his hand from a shard of glass he wasn’t careful enough with. After that, he got stuck in traffic, the elevator was broken so he had to walk up three flights of stairs, and it took him about five tries to get the door open because he kept dropping his keys.
“You’re late,” Will says without looking up from his book. Mike grunts in lieu of a reply, shuffling around trying to untie his shoes. Will looks up. “You alright over there?” he questions, smiling like he thinks Mike is funny, but eyebrows pinched in concern.
Mike drops his messenger bag unceremoniously under their coat hooks and struggles to pull his coat off before letting out a big sigh and running his hand through his hair, the other resting on his hip. “Yeah,” he replies breathily, gesturing with the hand he had in his hair. “Long day.”
“Do you need anything?” Will’s voice comes out a little nasally and hoarse. Despite not feeling all the way better, he insisted on going to class today. His fever is gone so Mike didn’t see the harm in letting him, although he did threaten to make Will stay home again if he seems to be getting worse.
“Dunno,” Mike almost trips on nothing, stumbling as he goes to flop pitifully onto his bed, shoving his face into his blankets. He’s too tired to bother trying to enunciate his words and he has a headache throbbing at the base of his skull anyway so too much effort would be detrimental to him.
Without speaking, Will gets off his bed. Mike closes his eyes, basking in the comfortable silence. Will taps Mike’s shoulder, holding out a glass of water for Mike.
“Thanks,” Mike nearly whispers, sitting up slowly to take it from Will.
“Headache?”
“How’d you know,” Mike mumbles, but he knows it’s just because Will knows him. Will already has two ibuprofen pills in his other hand like he was expecting Mike’s answer. He probably was. God, Mike is so in love with this boy.
“Let me know if you need anything else, okay?” Will says softly, brushing a lock of hair out of Mike’s face with his gentle artist hands. Mike leans into the touch before Will can pull away, humming quietly.
“Can you um,” Mike leans around Will to place the water glass on his side table. “Can you stay over here with me?” he finishes, mirroring their conversation from a couple nights before.
“I don’t know, can I?” Mike snaps his eyes up to look at his best friend, who has an impish grin on his face.
“Oh shut up,” Mike groans, smiling all the same. Will laughs, clambering onto Mike’s bed to sit across from him, criss-crossing his legs. Mike takes a moment to stare at him. He has an easy smile resting on his lips and it reaches his eyes when he meets Mike’s gaze.
Neither of them say anything. They just stare at each other, smiling like idiots and subconsciously leaning forward. Mike becomes aware of their proximity and wonders when their faces got so close. He feels his eyes widen and his breath hitch. Will seems to do the same.
Mike hopes and hopes that maybe, just maybe, Will is thinking the same thing he is right now: Are we about to kiss? Again? Mike doesn’t lean away, just in case. Will doesn’t lean away either.
“Mike,” Will whispers, so quietly Mike probably wouldn’t have heard it if he hadn’t been staring at Will’s lips.
“Hmm?”
“Can I kiss you?”
Mike tears his eyes away from Will’s nervously bitten-red lips, looking into the hazel of his eyes instead. A half of a thought forms in his brain and, like a stupid idiot, before he can think it all the way through he says, “I don’t know, can you?”
Will flushes, frowning, letting out an annoyed huff of breath, and leaning away from Mike. “Are you fucking kidding me you’re gonna make that stupid joke right now you are unbe--” Mike grabs the front of Will’s shirt and tugs Will toward him, so their lips collide, grinning the whole time.
Mike’s breath catches again, even though he literally initiated the kiss. Will’s lips are slightly chapped, but they’re warm and Mike has honestly never felt more at home. One of Will’s hands quickly finds its way to Mike’s hair, getting tangled instantly at his nape while the other gently takes Mike’s bandaged one to hold. Mike groans into Will’s mouth, something he probably should be embarrassed about but can’t bring himself to care because Will Byers is kissing him on the mouth.
Will pulls away, smirking when Mike nearly falls forward, chasing the kiss he has so desperately wanted for years. “What did you do?” Will asks, his voice slightly more hoarse than before, holding up Mike’s awkwardly bandaged hand.
“I told you, long day. Now come back,” he replies quickly, wanting to be kissing Will again as soon as possible. Will puts his other hand on Mike’s chest keeping him a good eight inches or so away from him, which is eight inches or so too far in Mike’s opinion. He lets out a childishly squeaky noise, verging on sounding distressed. “Whaaat,” he groans.
“Tell me what happened,” Will says like a mean, mean, mean person who wants Mike to suffer. (He doesn’t. He does, however, look very smug that he has this effect on Mike.)
“I dropped a bunch of dishes at the end of my shift and wasn’t careful enough when I was picking up the pieces okay, good? Good. Let me kiss you.”
Will laughs and Mike wants to put the melodic sound in a bottle and keep it forever. “So needy,” Will teases.
“Sure, yeah, whatever, come here.” And with that, Will removes his hand keeping Mike at bay and they go crashing into each other, kissing harder and more heated than before.
But they’re not close enough so Mike does what any reasonable guy would do and pulls Will into his lap, the latter following eagerly, shifting to straddle Mike while cupping his face.
“I love you,” Mike murmurs into the kiss, though it comes out sounding more like “I luff you” because Will has Mike’s lower lip trapped in his teeth. Will lets go and pulls back to look at Mike. Shit, was that too soon? “I mean-- shit. Um. I’m so sorry I probably shouldn’t’ve said that I--” Mike is cut off by Will pressing his finger against his lips in a “sh” gesture. Will’s eyes are wide but Mike can’t yet tell with what emotion.
“I love you too, Mike,” Will whispers, maintaining eye contact. Relief floods through Mike. Thank god he didn’t screw up. He grins.
“Cool,” Mike says.
“Cool,” Will has a soft smile on his face and leans in again. Mike eagerly meets him in the middle. It’s safe to say that today is no longer Mike Wheeler’s worst day.
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Domestic Established Relationship Masterlist
2009, 2012, 2019, 2022 (ao3) - OliveTheHobbit
Summary: “Most people have like yearly photo books, we have this weird ass videos” - Daniel Howell, some bloopers from phil is not on fire 10.
Some of the memories they gathered along the way got fresh in their minds at the moment they decided to buy a photo album.
In celebration to Dan and Phil’s 10th anniversary.
A Day in the Life of Dan and Phil in Quarantine! (ao3) - silentdescant
Summary: Phil posts a Day in the Life video of a typical day in quarantine.
Baby Names - dxnhowell
Summary: Dan and Phil arguing over baby names, very domestic.
blankets, coffees and afternoon naps (ao3) - zsunsetz
Summary: Blankets, coffee and afternoon naps have become the new normal.
Coming Clean and Kisses on Screen (ao3) - hygge
Summary: Dan and Phil are finally ready to make the news of their marriage and their new family public.
Dan and Phil and DOG (ao3) - nivi_chip
Summary: It’s Phil’s birthday, and Dan gets him a gift that’s long overdue
dan buys a skirt (ao3) - baroquen
Summary: Dan is thinking about buying a skirt. Phil thinks this is a very good idea.
Doing Nothing Often Leads To The Very Best Of Something (ao3) - kae_karo
Summary: based on this (x) and a lil imagine i wrote (x) and expanded on so thanks to the lovely anon who originally sent "that pic phil posted of dan for his bday i think where dan is making a funny face and theres a nearly empty wine bottle in the background hhhhh that makes my demon heart drop" and to the lovely anon who asked for more!
Forever Home (ao3) - possumdnp
Summary: Phil’s wanted a dog for as long as he can remember, and now that he and Dan are moving into their new house, it’s the perfect opportunity. But there’s just one problem: Phil’s allergic to dogs.
Home For Good (ao3) - hygge
Summary: Phil gets drafted for World War III. Dan and their daughter, Emily, try to maintain a normal life while Phil is away.
Let's Be Alone Together (ao3) - orphan_account
Summary: There are times when Dan and Phil feel so much like a married couple, that they forget they aren’t actually married. However, neither one of them are complaining about it. (Also known as the most domestic and fluffy fic I’ve ever written).
Look what I made the birthday boy (ao3) - phandemigods
Summary: Dan made a super sweet video for Phil's 30th birthday and they decide to post it. It's just a pile of domestic fluff
Noted (ao3) - whisksandplungers
Summary: Dan liked to leave romantic notes for Phil. Most of the time, Phil loved them. And sometimes, Phil would be left staring at the note, absolutely clueless.
Share A Bed, Share A Life (ao3) - JenCollins, WordsAblaze
Summary: Having a child is a stressful, time-consuming, argument-inducing process but, naturally, Dan and Phil ride the ups and downs together, ending up just fine. Fulfilling prompts 'age changes' and 'sharing a bed' for the phandom fic fests, enjoy!
Sugar Rush (ao3) - Misha_with_wings
Summary: Phil shouldn’t have had so much sugar before bed, now he’s a hyper little shit and Dan really just wants to sleep.
the stupid sushi bubble bath fic (ao3) - itsmyusualphannie (itsmyusualweeb)
Summary: dip and pip cuddle and eat sushi and take a bubble bath like the nerds they are.
They Were Forever (ao3) - developerdaniel
Summary: While keeping everything soft and sweet their kiss quickly grew into more as Dan's hands slid their way up Phil's loose tee, pushing it up while his explored his lover's soft skin. Phil let out a gentle gasp into the younger's mouth at the feeling. Dan's touches were soft, feather light, enough to send a shiver up Phil's spine and raise goosebumps where Dan's hands had once been.
~
aka the fic where dan and phil have a casual night at home that ends with them passionately making love
Today Is For Us (ao3) - CaibrynM
Summary: Dan and Phil take a day for themselves in between the tour ending, planning for their premiere in Brazil and the upcoming Christmas Holidays. Lots of Fluff and a little smut.
Told You So (ao3) - flymetomanchester
Summary: Neither really care about the holiday. but when they move in together Phil can’t help but care about thanksgiving. It has to be perfect. Nothing can go wrong right?
Worth the Wait (ao3) - JudeAraya
Summary: It's pretty hard to stay mad at Phil, even when he's forgotten date night.
#phanfictioncatalogue#phanfiction#phanfic#phan#masterlists#domestic#domestic masterlist#establishedrelationship
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I'm torn between wanting Jamie to stand up to his dad and tell him to stay out of his life (although the Wembley ep was sort of that and I think that no matter how much he has come on as a person, I think it would be too hard for Jamie to actually face his dad down and say that too him), and wanting James Tartt Sr to try something to hurt his son again and a vengeful Roy Kent come swinging out of nowhere to turn his face to jam.
Hiya, sweet nonny!
Though I certainly get the desire to have Jaime stand up to his dad in a more comprehensive and verbal kind of way, and in a moment when he’s no longer cowed by his father but faces him head held high, I think I’d rather not have another full on confrontation between the two of them. Partly because we’ve (sort of) been there, done that, partly because I just really think Jamie deserves never to have to deal with that prick ever again.
Then again, Jamie is clearly haunted by his old man still, not here but still kind of there, and perhaps the catharsis he needs is to let his dad know once and for all what he thinks of him, and that they’re done.
Only…
Only, most of the time, in most of our lives, there is no catharsis; not one single moment of great release than leaves us cleansed and ready to tackle the world anew without the burden of what came before and hurt us. Most of the time, I think, we just learn to live with the pain; blunt it, too, with time or experience or forgetfulness.
And love.
See, I don’t think that James Tartt, as we’ve seen him, will ever be able to give Jamie what he needs. There’ll be no reasoning, no realization of guilt, apologies, or amends. A confrontation will only ever lead to spluttering defiance and challenges. So what then if Jamie dismisses him with one hell of a zinger? Does that soothe the ache of a young boy who just wanted a father? Does that lessen the trauma of a fourteen year old brought to a brothel? Does it in any way make up for the times he was met with scorn when he should have been cherished?
(This is not an argument that you should never forgive because harm done cannot be undone; it’s an argument that James Tartt Sr. is unable and/or unwilling to participate in any attempts of reconciliation and is therefor best ignored.)
To me, the way Jamie gets over his father – slowly, painfully, and probably never completey – is by… just not giving it any more time that he absolutely has to (those ghosts in his brain, they’re still there). There’ll be times when he needs to grieve or rage or fall apart, and that’s fine; the rest of the time, his father is best forgotten and ignored in favour of the people that love Jamie, and that he loves in turn.
This doesn’t heal all aches either, of course. The damage done by his dad lingers. We do all of us learn to live with the scars.
I get that this is not as dramatic and immediately satisfying resolution as Jamie asking his dad to fuck off (even if they’re not actually mutually exclusive), but to me it just seems truer and in keeping with a series that had Jamie punching his dad be a heartbreaking moment rather than a triumphant one.
Roy now… Well, Roy really needs to learn to solve his and everybody else’s problem with something other than his fists and shouting so I can’t fully get behind him physically assaulting Tartt Sr. (sexy a thought as it might be), but I am exceedingly keen on the notion of him being protective over Jamie when it comes to this. Like, I dream about him stomping into Ted’s office and going what are you going to do about Jamie’s fucking dad?
“Well, Roy,” Ted begins, but Roy cuts him right off:
“Man City match is coming up and you know the piece of shit is going to be there.”
“Jamie told you he’s worried?”
And Roy hesitates. “No, but… “
He doesn’t say: No, but I watch him.
No, but I see the look on his face when he doesn’t know anyone’s looking.
No, but I know him, and I know the way he hunches his shoulders when he’s feeling down, I know that wide smirk flashing by when he doesn’t want you to notice his eyes.
I know his sharp tongue twisting round his mouth as it shies away from the words he’d rather not say.
Roy says, “He shouldn’t have to deal with that shit.” And he adds, as if needing to add justification (for himself, for the other coaches), “It won’t be good for his play if he’s distracted.”
“Mhm.” Ted nods, but nods in that carefully friendly neutral way that makes it damned clear he’s not fooled. “Well, what do you think we should do, Roy?”
Bring the paint, I’ll bring the ropes, Roy doesn’t say. “Can you make sure he’s not allowed into the stadium?” he asks Higgins.
And Higgins nods, yes, of course, and he’s off to make the phone calls, and Ted’s still looking at Roy with that infuriating understanding in his eyes.
“You think he might try something outside?” Ted asks, and it’s so matter-of-fact, such a straight fucking question for a situation as tangled as they come.
“Maybe.” Roy’s face is a mask, is stone. He is already moving towards the door. “I’ll fucking sort it.”
Jamie might not have a father worth shit but he’s got a team and he’s got Roy, and that will be plenty.
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A Little Bit Country, A Little Bit Rock ‘N Roll - Chapter 10
Summary: Michael and David have finally had their first kiss. Now that their feelings are being shared with each other, they can start to expand their relationship and see where it goes. Meanwhile, Sam and the Frog Brothers are getting deeper into their vampire obsession.
TW: Chapter contains burn marks and mentions of abuse
Previous Chapter Next Chapter
To say the world around you stops when you have a truly special kiss would be cliché. However, that doesn’t mean it doesn’t happen for some people. For Michael and David, that was exactly what was happening to them.
Neither of them knew who made the first move. In fact, it seemed like it was a mutual action between the two. One moment they were slow dancing at the hijacked party, the next moment they were both leaning in for a kiss. It lasted quite a bit longer than your average first kiss. Forget a simple peck. Theirs was slow, sweet and had enough fireworks to light up the sky on the Fourth of July.
When they finally pulled away and opened their eyes, they still weren’t quite adjusted to what had just happened. Both sets of blue eyes shimmered and shined in the low light of the room. Their mouths were slightly open, still tingling from being pressed together. The world went on without them as the band thanked everyone for coming and guests clapped with a sense of joy they hadn’t expected for their night out.
Someone had to say something first, or the two boys would be frozen in place all night.
“I-” Michael barely got out.
That was all David needed to finally get his head out of the clouds. He blinked rapidly before grabbing hold of Michael’s wrist. He had to get moving as soon as possible.
“Outside. Let’s go outside,” David said, practically commanding the human boy. He pulled him in the direction of the doors that led to the private patio outside. Michael simply held onto his hat and moved his feet as fast as he could to keep up with David. He didn’t know the guy had such a strong grip.
As luck would have it, the entire area outside was completely empty. Cigarette butts filled the ash trays on tables and random glasses and plates were scattered and left for some poor, under-paid workers to clean up. Thankfully, it was just the two of them. Exactly what David needed right now.
“We....I....did we....holy shit....”
Of all the times for David to struggle with finding the right words, it had to be now. This never happened to him. He prided himself on always having confidence and the ability to keep control in any situation. Now it felt like he was tongue-tied.
Despite his freak-out, Michael was perfectly calm and collected. He had a small smile on his handsome face as he scratched the back of his neck. Not knowing what else to do, he reached out and put his hands on David’s shoulders.
“Hey,” he said, keeping his voice low and calm. “It’s all right, David. We can talk about this. I know it’s a lot to take in right ‘bout now”
David truly didn’t know what it was about Michael’s accent that made him magically feel eased again, but he was grateful to hear it. He let out a deep sigh, shoulders finally slumping as a newfound calmness washed over him.
God, his boys had been absolutely right before. He was such a sucker for Michael.
“We....we kissed...” David finally acknowledged. His lips curled upward saying that. He just couldn’t fight the smile that was showing. After all, he had genuinely wanted to do that for quite some time. It was everything he had imagined it would be and so much more.
The adoring look in Michael’s eyes told him the feeling was mutual. It made his blood rush hot and fast in his undead veins.
“Yeah. We sure did,” Michael confirmed. He proudly wore a smile of his own. It was lovesick and goofy. Something that fit the outgoing cowboy quite nicely.
Their gaze was locked together, and once again they found themselves in the conundrum of trying to see who would speak first. Unlike before where the moment was caused by shock, this one was fueled by pure giddiness. They were both just so happy to see one another react so well.
In a way, it was just the thing they both needed in order to feel comfortable enough to keep things going. David felt himself drawn to Michael even more now. Like a magnet’s pull. He just couldn’t fight it.
“I....I really want to kiss you again, Michael....” David admitted.
“God, I thought you’d never ask,” Michael said.
Without any hesitation this time, he pulled on David’s shoulders and brought him in for their second kiss. Something in David clicked, and he matched the energy with Michael. His arms grabbed at his hips, latching on to keep the human boy as close as possible. This kiss had an extra spark of passion to it. Michael sighed into David’s mouth as he wrapped his arms around his shoulders and neck. He thought David was an amazing kisser. It made him feel like the luckiest guy in the world.
With his eyes closed and his mouth still moving with Michael’s, he managed to move them both up against the wall of the building. One of the hunting techniques he and the boys often did was seducing victims into alleyways and distracting them with kisses before going in for a bite. This was all a familiar experience, but now it had such a romantic twist to it.
This was all for the adoration David felt for Michael. He never wanted to kiss any other human ever again. Not even for hunting. With lips as soft and sweet as his, it was more intoxicating than any sip of blood that he had ever tasted.
Michael’s heart was pounding a mile a minute, pumping warmth throughout his entire body. His cheeks were flushed, and his hands were shaking. It was a good thing David had him pressed up against the wall, because he felt so dizzy, he could have fainted. He felt lucky to have the blond hold him close to keep such a thing from happening.
Every second spent kissing made David hungry for more. He had held back for so long, and this small taste had him so desperate for more. He wanted to feel under Michael’s clothes, take off the hat and run his fingers through his curls, go at the neck for just a small nibble. Anything.
But it seemed that all he would get for tonight was this passionate kiss.
“David,” Dwayne’s voice called to him in his head. David could have killed the guy for interrupting this. “Come on, we gotta fly. We have to hunt before the night ends. We can’t go to bed hungry”
It pained David to let Michael go, but his packmate was absolutely right. He reluctantly released himself, both boys breathing heavily when their lips were free. Michael seemed confused about how sudden the stop was. Still, David wouldn’t leave the guy hanging.
“Fuck, I’m so sorry, Michael. The boys and I have to get home. We’ll be in big trouble if we don’t get home before the night ends,” he explained. It wasn’t exactly a lie, but it also wasn’t the whole truth.
Michael was an understanding guy. Though he didn’t know all the details of what kind of life David was living at home, he knew enough about Max to recognize that there was in fact a true threat if David didn’t do as he was told. With a sympathetic look in his eyes, he held a hand to David’s cheek, rubbing the scruff with his finger. David could have swooned from such a gesture.
“You sure y’all don’t wanna come over to my house? Mama would be more than happy to bring out the ol’ air mattresses for the night!”
David would be lying if he said he didn’t want to do that. Just two kisses from Michael, and he was already willing to throw away his whole vampire routine and risk the light of the sun just to be with him a while longer. Still, he was no baby bat. He knew better than to act so carelessly.
“That’s nice of you, but I’m afraid I gotta decline the offer”
A hint of disappointment was reflected in Michael’s baby blues. Panic rose in David’s chest as he realized how bad it looked bailing so soon after their kiss. He had to salvage this immediately.
“But I really want to see you again as soon as possible! Why don’t we do something tomorrow night? Just the two of us”
God, it apparently did not take much for David to acting like a fool in love. He wanted to kick himself for acting so desperate. It was a good thing Michael was such a great guy who didn’t mind such things. In fact, such a suggestion seemed to put the human in better spirits.
“I’d love that more than a bear loves honey”
David let out a chuckle, always amused by the southernisms that Michael entertained him with. It made him happy enough to end the night with one last kiss to sweeten the deal.
“Then it’s a date,” he whispered before moving in to press his lips to Michael’s. It was pure bliss, feeling the other boy smile into it. Such a wonderful sensation made it feel like the entire night was a big success. It was all so perfect.
“Nighty night, Huckleberry”
“Sweet dreams, Cowboy”
David flashed Michael one last grin before taking off into the night, running on feet until he was out of sight. When he was certain the human couldn’t see him anymore, he took flight to catch up with the other Lost Boys.
Tomorrow night couldn’t come fast enough.
The plan to ruin Max’s night went off without a hitch. All of their friends and extended family had made the party truly unforgettable. The crowd of country club members were rather split on how they felt. While some had scoffed at the “crude” behavior and left in a huff, others had the time of their lives with the friendly folks. Turns out all they needed was a little bit of country hospitality to have some fun.
Lucy in particular was feeling quite proud of what she and the boys had done. Not only had they given all of their guests a fun time visiting Santa Carla, but she had also put Max in his place after the way he treated his son. She had zero intentions of returning to work at that man’s business. As far as she was concerned, he could go bankrupt, and she wouldn’t shed a single tear.
So rather than give Max a call, she spent the next morning circling job ads in the newspaper in between bites of pancakes. Not only did she need to find a new form of income to keep feeding her sons, but all of their friends as well.
That reminded her. Once Michael talked to them a bit more about making the Emerson house their official home, she could start making arrangements for them. Her father’s basement had been used as storage for all of her mother’s belongings when she passed away. Lucy was certain she could convince her dad to move a few things as a temporary fix.
“Mornin’ Mama!” A voice called, interrupting her thoughts. Michael came sauntering into the kitchen, his hair a mess and his smile nice and bright.
“Well, ain’t you in a good mood today!” Lucy commented. Usually, Michael was a bit groggy at the start of the day. Today he was practically glowing with positivity. “Didya have that much fun at the party last night?”
Michael couldn’t stop the warm blush that spread across his face. He smiled bashfully while his cheeks and ears flushed a deep shade of pink. His mother didn’t even realize how good a night he had.
“I sure did!” he said, sitting down with her and grabbing an empty plate to start building his own stack of pancakes for breakfast. “Oh Mama...I’m happier than a dog with two tails. I can’t thank ya enough for helpin’ me out”
Lucy wasn’t blind to the way her son was looking. She recognized the sense of giddiness that she had experienced when she was around his age. Her boy was in love. Head over heels kind of love. And she had a pretty good idea of who it was with.
She thought back to all of the times he and David were laughing and spending time together during visits. How they’d always sit next to each other at the dinner table and whisper secrets that made them giggle like kids.
Still, she knew it wasn’t her place to ask if her son was ready to share such details yet. All she knew was that he was over the moon, and that was all that mattered. Lucy gave her son a warm smile before standing up from her spot. She kissed his forehead and ruffled up his curls.
“It sure was nice wiping that smug grin off of Max’s face. I’m glad we all were able to give everyone a much better night,” she said. “I’m gonna go do some job huntin’ today so you hold down th’ fort ‘til I get back, okay?”
“Yes ma’am!” Michael said, giving his mother a nod. He was always the most responsible one of the sons, but he knew reassuring Lucy that he would take care of the family was always important.
Lucy cleared her dishes before making her way back to her room to freshen up before she hit the town. Michael was left alone with his breakfast and his thoughts.
He had been on cloud nine from the moment he left the party. Ever since he met David after their move, he had been so enamored with him. David was amazing in every way possible. Handsome, charming, talented, fun, and had a heart of gold under that scary, punk-looking aesthetic. Whenever they were together, Michael felt like he was back home again. Safe and happy.
Knowing David had wanted to take things to the next level truly made him feel euphoric. Every time he thought about their kisses, he found himself yearning for more.
“Mike!”
The sudden shout of his name shook Michael out of his train of thought. He blinked rapidly as he took notice of his little brother standing in the kitchen doorway. While Michael was in a blissful mood, Sam seemed like he was under immense stress. There was a nervous look painted on his face and his shoulders were tensed.
“Ya feelin’ alright, Sammy? Ya look like ya saw a ghost!”
To his surprise, Sam didn’t make any kind of snarky quip or joke at his comment. He stayed silent as he pulled up the chair that Lucy had used before. Now Michael was feeling concerned. His brow furrowed as he studied Sam’s features.
“What’s wrong?”
“Something really strange happened last night....at the party....”
Now Michael’s curiosity was piqued. He had been so focused on having a good time with everyone that he hadn’t even thought about what went down with Sam and the Frog Brothers when they distracted Max. In fact, his mind was still on David when they all went home, and he didn’t think to talk to his brother.
“Tell me, Sam”
“Hey, Max! We wanna talk to you for a bit! Let’s hang out!”
That’s what Sam had told Max in order to get him out of the dining hall. Edgar and Alan had been more than willing to help with distracting the tall man, especially after forming such a tight bond with the Emerson family. In their eyes, they were helping keep the peace.
Max had been a bit fussy about their actions. He clearly didn’t enjoy being tossed out of his own get-together, albeit one that was taken over.
“Now listen here, boys!” he said sternly. “I will not stand for you acting up like this! I would like to go back and take back control of my party!”
The kids weren’t going to listen to a thing he had to say. It was up to them to keep David safe with Michael and Lucy happy with their new guests. There was no stopping three determined kids when they put their mind to something.
“Really? I thought we’d go outside and get some air! Maybe talk a bit about our home back in Texas!” Sam said with a cheerful smile.
While Max protested, he and the Frogs were able to push him out onto the patio outside. Edgar and Alan leaned against the door after shutting it so he would be blocked.
“Oooh boy, you sure would love it down south!” Sam gushed, letting his accent slip out. “We got honkytonks, muddin’, rodeos, every little bit o’ fun you can imagine! Plus, ya get ta see the sun rise all nice and purdy in the mornin’ while ya work!”
Max’s face scrunched in a sense of disgust. Clearly, none of those things sounded good to someone like him. It seemed like everywhere he turned, he was surrounded by the chaos that the Emerson family had. All of it brought immense discomfort to the man, and all he wanted was for it to end.
“Look, Sam,” Max interrupted, reaching forward to put a hand on Sam's chest and stop him from moving around. “I would just like to talk to your moth-”
To the shock of the boy, Max let out a yelp of pain when his fingers brushed against the accessory hanging from his shirt collar. Though he hadn’t dressed up for the event, he had still worn a special item for the special occasion; a bolo tie. There was crest in the center of the tie that he had shined for such a special night.
Yet the moment he touched it, Max pulled his hand away as if he had been zapped by something. Sam watched in curiosity, feeling just as surprised as the older man was.
“Are you alright?”
Edgar and Alan perked up too, unaware of what was going on. They tried to get a closer look at what had happened, but Max held his hand close to his chest, covering it with the other hand to block the sight.
“I’m sorry...please excuse me....” was all Max said before he took off in a rush. Sam only got a sliver of a look at the man’s hand as he walked swiftly to the parking lot.
There was a burn mark on his hand. A really nasty one too.
Back home, Sam had witnessed quite a few injuries from people who got too careless or did dangerous things for work. One time in particular, he had witnessed his cousin hurt his arm after stumbling into a campfire. He ended up getting wounded with second-degree burns from that. The glimpse he got of Max’s hands looked identical to that.
While Sam watched in awe as the man disappeared into the row of cars, his friends surrounded him, curious as to what just happened. Edgar cocked his head to the side as he got a better look at the bolo tie that Sam wore. He and his brother studied the metal a little closer.
“What material is this part made of Sam?” he asked.
The Emerson boy was silent for a moment, still shook up by what he had witnessed with his own eyes. A few seconds passed before he was finally able to find his voice again.
“Silver”
Michael had to admit, it was a little hard to hear such a thing from Sam. It all sounded like something born from the wild imagination of a child, yet his brother seemed so unnerved retelling the events from the night before.
“Aw c’mon, Sammy, maybe the light was messin’ with ya. Or maybe he’s got an allergy t’ silver!”
The look on Sam’s face was one of complete disbelief. He was upset that his own brother doubted what he saw plain as day.
“It ain’t no allergy! He was burned,” he insisted. “I’m tellin’ ya, there’s something mighty wrong with that man! You heard th’ stuff Edgar and Alan said before. Vampires are ‘round these parts!”
Now it was Michael’s turn to get upset. He had such an amazing night with David, and now his little brother was talking nonsense that would spoil the mood. Michael couldn’t care less about whatever happened with Max’s hand, but what he did care about was his brother spouting nonsense about a man who had more realistic dangers to him. Dangers that David was on the receiving end of.
“Now Mama done told ya not to spout that vampire bullshit!” Michael snapped at his brother. “There ain’t no such thing as vampires, and I don’t wantcha makin’ light about the kinda man Max is. He’s dangerous, and I’m trying to get David away from him. You’re gonna drive him away if ya start ravin’ like a fool, so knock it off!”
Sam was truly hurt by his older brother’s words. He felt completely insulted, and he couldn’t stand to be around someone who wouldn’t listen to his concerns. In a huff, Sam stood up from the chair again and bolted out the back door. Michael tried in vain to stop the kid, but there was no reasoning with him. He’d probably run off to his friends and vent.
Michael didn’t know what to do. He held his face in his hands and rubbed his temples in frustration. Sam was just being a dumb kid interfering with his plans. All Michael wanted was to be with David. To keep him and his friends safe so that Max wouldn’t continue his abuse.
David.
The boy was his only ray of hope as the day went by. When they were together, he would truly make it count.
Tag List: @silvermaplealder @cryptic-michael @legal-lost-boy @britany1997 @riz-coolgirl @crustyraccoon @ghoulgeousimmaculate @kurt-nightcrawler @auntvamp @sunshine-wylan @thelostsouls1987 @pixielostboy @thornthehellhound @solobagginses @6lostgirl6
#the lost boys#tlb#my fic#au fic#southern michael#michael emerson#david the lost boys#michael x david
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(Hanahaki AU tag : 1 | 2 | 3 | 4)
Sometimes Eddie thinks stories are alive, somehow. Not in a gateway-to-a-magical-world sense; more like kudzu. Invasive, demanding, immortal. You think you’ve cut them to pieces and salted the earth, but they come back when you’re least expecting them, smothering any bullshit ideas about individuality or making your own way.
Like the story about the Munson boy: bad news, good-for-nothing, stealing and dealing, always in hot water with the law. Eddie’d tried like hell to fight that one, but it just came for him twice as hard. He clings to all the ways he’s not like his old man, but he’s still so shit-scared that when push comes to shove, the ways they’re different don’t matter as much as they ways they’re the same. That story’s got him by the throat.
And now the story about the other Munson boy, the quiet one: born wrong, they said. Wrong enough that they had to cut it out of him.
Eddie loves Wayne, but he’s never wanted to end up like him. Eddie had foolishly—foolishly!—thought that maybe there could be something different, like maybe his life could grow in bright new ways up and out, stretching sunwards. Instead, there’s the mile-a-minute strangling vines, overtaking him and smothering out any hope of light.
It’s like those older stories, the ones about prophecies, right? Eddie used to love those when he was a kid. He’d been obsessed with the library’s battered copy of D’Aulaires’ Book of Greek Myths, checking it out again and again just to pore over the colorful illustrations of golden fleeces and golden apples and children born from eggs. Characters like Oedipus who tried to outrun their destiny could never really win. That’s a story to warn you about stories, for sure. It lays everything out: the futility of trying to run, and the way you’re going to try anyway.
So he should’ve known better, that’s all. Nothing ever really changes for the Munsons; those kudzu stories always come to drag them back into their place.
———
They run across an old-fashioned frozen custard place outside of Milwaukee, all neon and aluminum siding and servers in little paper hats. Steve screws his whole face up into a grimace. “Do we have to? I’m getting flashbacks to when me and Robin worked at Scoops Ahoy.”
“You what? Did I know this about you? Wait, did you wear—”
“Yeah, yeah, laugh it up, Munson. That uniform is the worst thing that ever happened to me.”
It might be the worst thing that’s ever happened to Eddie, jesus. He can’t stop picturing it. Damn his vivid imagination and active fantasy life.
“Well, Harrington, I have the overwhelming need to put some frozen custard in my face immediately, so you’re just gonna have to deal with the trauma.”
Steve gets a frozen custard too, despite all his complaining, and they sit in the back of the van to eat. It’s a pretty day out, and the place is humming. Lots of families around.
“So do you still have that uniform?” Eddie’s a fucking masochist for asking, but he can’t help it.
“Kind of? It’s…wait, did anyone tell you about Starcourt and the Russians?”
“Uh.” Eddie blinks at him. “Starting to think I’ve been left out of a few loops, here.”
It’s a good story. Steve’s not a very good storyteller, he keeps going on tangents and repeating himself, but Eddie likes listening to him anyway. It’s nice to see him waving his hands around, clearly forgetting that he’s still holding a mostly-eaten tub of custard, and telling an objectively absolutely buck-wild tale. Eddie only has to hide a coughing fit once, and he manages to drop the gross ball of brown-and-yellow plant matter under the van without Steve seeing. It’s a pretty decent way to spend an afternoon.
When Steve’s done, Eddie whistles long and low. “Steve fuckin’ Harrington. At this point, I don’t think anything you can tell me is gonna be surprising anymore. Like, if you said you’d traveled back in time to kill JFK? I’d be like sure, sounds about right, bet you had a pretty good reason for doing that.”
Steve snorts. “I think you know everything about me now, dude. All the important stuff, anyway.” He slides a look over at Eddie, suddenly weighty and serious in the way he gets sometimes. “I know there’s stuff you’re—stuff you don’t want to tell me. Part of the whole, uh, Eddie Munson thing, right? But I think—I hope I know you too. Who you are. Even if I don’t know all your stories yet.”
Eddie draws his knees up and rests his folded elbows on them, letting his hair fall forward to shield his face a little. It feels like there are so many important things that he’s trying to carry around under his skin, too many for any one person to hold, and one of these days it’s all gonna come spilling out, infinite and messy, raw and inconvenient, damning.
“Yeah,” he says. “I guess maybe you do know me enough.”
#okay here's the thing! I decided that the last segment in this series was a little abrupt.#so the first part of this flows a little weird bc it's going to be interwoven with the last bit of the previous snippet when it's up on AO3#which might need to be soon just so I can get like. a canonical version set.#this is the downside of posting immediately after I finish writing a thing#y'all are getting front-row seats to my Process which involves a lot of backtracking#hanahaki au#steddie
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◇ I'm gonna laugh you right out of my life ◇
-> I've been listening to "I'm Gonna Laugh You Right Out of My Life" (by Nancy Wilson, originally sung by Nat King Cole) and I feel like that it's such a fitting song for Reo if you two ever broke up. Like, listen to those lyrics, ouch...
reo mikage x reader (angst)
I'm gonna laugh you right out of my life,
Laugh, and forget this affair
Guess I was foolish
To care.
Reo has a strong sense of pride, and therefore will act like your breakup doesn't faze him. He'd find it so silly that he ever held so much hope in this relationship. So when all was said and done, he'd convinced himself that it was just a fling, nothing more.
It's funny though.
Considering how much he had wished to see you everyday, how much he had nearly stumbled on his feet whenever your lips, imbued with honey, spoke to him, touched him. This boy was absolutely smitten by you before you two got to this point. He used to look at you with so much adoration. Now the thought of you just makes him laugh.
So I'm gonna dance you right out of my dreams,
Try to be carefree and gay
I guess I'll learn to play
The part.
Indeed, you were his dream.
And that's says lot considering how he found most things boring. Before getting into the relationship, he would search yearn for you, search for you, and wouldn't stop until he had you. Now all of that belonged in the past. He thought that there was no use in sulking over it, but shit- it's terribly hard for him to hide it on his face.
Cause when our friends begin that
Heartless rumor,
I know I'll really need my
Sense of humor.
As we know, Reo's a popular guy. Of course many of his friends would know who you are. They're gonna attempt to mend his ego and "cheer him up" by saying things like you were "never worth it after all", or that they "knew all along you two wouldn't last" because of some false assumption that they had conjured up about you. And all he could is nod, and again, laugh it off.
But oh how they were so wrong.
He had truly loved you and deep down, he had hoped that it could really last...that you two would become something that they could never fathom. Yet, you two had made mistakes that neither of you could endure any longer. It was rough between you two, but it'd be an absolute lie to say you weren't worth it.
I'm gonna laugh you right out of my life,
Make it a beautiful joke.
No one will know you broke
My heart.
Yes, all he can do is laugh. Laugh about it to his friends and to himself. He doesn't know any other way to console himself because it hurts him so fucking much and won't bring himself to admit it.
But if I find you and I
Really meant that last goodbye,
Then I'm gonna laugh so hard,
I'll cry.
Its been months since the break up and he'd hoped that he'd never see you again. Alas, there you were, looking back at him with a small smile on your face. The world seemed to stop and he was frozen in place.
How were you so happy? Who was the one making you happy? Was it the one who was standing beside you right now?
And within a second, you were gone, your new beloved taking you away from the place. Reo would then click his tongue. How foolish was he to think of finding ways to make things right, to get back to you all this time when you were already too far gone from his reach.
So as he walked home, he began to chuckle, and soon, burst out laughing.
Laughing so hard that tears began flowing endlessly down his face.
a/n: I've realized that most of the stuff I wrote for reo is primarily angst. I guess I just want to see him suffer for some reason LMAO 💀
rip reo, maybe I'll write fluff for him someday but not today 😈
© 2023 lyneira. PLEASE DO NOT COPY, PLAGIARIZE, TRANSLATE, OR REPOST MY WORKS ONTO OTHER PLATFORMS
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