#he has the perfect height for modelling guys listen to me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

calaofnoldor · 3 years

Text

What’s Mine

Characters: Sam x F!Reader, Dean

Words: 7,595

Summary: The secret you and Sam are hiding from Dean is threatened by your inability to keep your hands off each other.

Warnings: 18+ no actual smut but plenty of implied smut, pre-smut, and smut adjacency lol, secret dating, enemies to lovers, jealousy and possessiveness (exhibited by both sam and reader), slight obsession with sam’s big ass hands (i blame this largely on @walkerboy290‘s glorious hand porn gif sets), and language

A/N: inspired by and written for @thinkinghardhardlythinking bc she’s been bugging me to write smut and using her birthday as a bargaining chip, so i hope you’re happy sai. happy (belated) birthday babe! i suppose in my subconscious need to truly honor you, this became the longest one shot i’ve ever written... that and this is now also a little birthday gesture for the brilliant and beautiful @sams-sass (damn your close birthdays!) even though she never asked for smut (if you hate it, i’ll write you something else!) happy birthday to you too, darling!

also written for @superbadassnatural‘s 333 badass followers celebration with the prompt “___ and I are together.” “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa.” and @writethelifeyouwant‘s 300 follower fic challenge with the prompt “All the pretty girls like Samuel” (both prompts are bolded in the fic) i’m sorry i’m so late! congratulations to both of you and thanks for letting me enter your challenges!

[basically i have a lot of people to blame for this disaster ��]

Square Filled: Secret Dating for @spnfluffbingo and Enemies to Lovers for @girl-next-door-writes Make Me Feel Bingo

MASTERLIST

The waffles on your plate are surprisingly good for a sketchy, 50’s-themed diner, but unfortunately your attention is elsewhere. In fact, the two distinctly masculine voices behind you have been obnoxiously impairing your ability to savor the buttery, syrup-doused carbs since their owners sat down in the adjoining booth. It’s the topic of their discussion that disturbs you, and nips at your conscience until you realize you can no longer take off without imparting a few words to your oblivious colleagues.

Turning your head subtly to the side, you try to catch a glimpse of the men you’re about to confront in your peripheral vision. From what you can see, they’re both rather burly, a little rough around the edges, and from what you’ve heard, recklessly cocksure. You know the type all too well. Being a lone hunter of the fairer sex for most of your life means you’ve long since learned that the best way to combat their kind is with a steadfast façade of thick skin and unwavering confidence.

So you sigh and put on your best smile before turning around, crossing your forearms along the top of the booth seat, “Listen fellas, I hate to interrupt, but I really wouldn’t bother with the bamboo dagger and Shinto priest if I were you.”

“And who the hell are you?” the one with shorter hair demands. He’s a bit stockier than his companion and has a face that looks like it was designed by Abercrombie and Fitch - well that explains the arrogance.

“I’m the person who’s about to save your asses evidently,” you respond with a smug grin, trying not to let their absurdly good looks deter your act.

Abercrombie’s partner, the Fabio wannabe, releases a quiet scoff, “And how are you gonna do that?” he questions dubiously.

“By letting you in on a little secret…” Throwing him a tight smile, you lean forward and lower your voice, “That ōkami you’re after? It’s not an ōkami, it’s a ghoul.” Sitting back, you await the outrage.

“What?! But that’s not possible, I checked the lore. And it’s obviously got a type.” Fabio’s glossy chestnut locks fall across his delicate features as he shakes his head in disbelief, and you almost snort out loud. How did this amateur expect to hunt with hair like that?

You look him over, taking in the broad shoulders and muscled arms, as well as the obvious height advantage he’s got over Abercrombie even whilst they’re both seated. To be honest, you’re surprised he’s referencing lore at all. Guys his size always assume they can either outman or outgun whatever obstacles cross their path, and they almost never take women like you seriously, despite your ample years of acquired knowledge and invaluable experience. It’s this experience that surmises a bit of antagonism here is inevitable, so you might as well get a head start.

“Yeah well maybe you should check again, big guy,” you glance down at his hands, your first mistake as their sheer size render you speechless and subsequently agitated at yourself for the momentary lapse of visceral lust, but the show must go on, “Make sure those giant, lumbering hands of yours don’t fumble over anything important or you might miss the connection to Isabelle Harding. You see it’s not ‘a type’; it’s revenge.”

“Wh- Bu- I looked through the files. I wouldn’t have missed that,” Fabio insists.

“Oh yeah? Why don’t you type ‘Isabelle Harding’ and ‘1987 school bombing’ into your search bar and see what comes up?” you gesture towards the laptop on their table with a raised brow. Minutes later, both men are dumbfounded by the revelation on the screen, staring between it and you with their mouths agape.

You chuckle silently at their faces, “Don’t worry, there’s no need to thank me. Although you rookies might wanna go home and let the more experienced hunter finish up here.” As you’re about to bid them farewell, you dip back in to add, “Oh and a word of free advice, maybe don’t discuss supernatural monsters quite so loudly in public spaces next time. It might invite unwanted attention.”

With that, you turn around and slap some cash down next to your unfinished waffles, before grabbing your jacket and strutting out the door.

Sam is left in utter confusion. The sudden animosity you had spouted his way seems completely baseless and unwarranted. Had he somehow offended you? Sam generally considers himself a highly respectful and fairly easy-going guy, not quite as hot-blooded as his brother, and thus not as likely to provoke such antipathy from a complete stranger. To make matters worse, he certainly can’t deny that something about you had registered within his subconscious as inexplicably attractive, despite the way you’d embarrassed him. In his flustered and slightly aroused state, it had been all he could do to remain awestruck in his seat and stare blatantly at your ass as you walked away.

The next time Sam sees you is only twelve hours later and no less humiliating. You’re mid-swing in the killing blow against what you had accurately predicted to be a ghoul as he and Dean tumble in. Despite the low lighting, Sam is once again stupefied by your raging beauty, augmented by the incredible skill you’re displaying in a much more physical sense this time around. Before he can drag his eyes away, there’s a collective shout of “watch out!” and suddenly you’re right in front of him. In a blur of events, you somehow manage to push Sam out of the way and successfully decapitate the unexpected second ghoul that had been sneaking up behind him, with only a slice across the arm to show for it.

“Didn’t I tell you two to go home?” You’re panting from the exertion and Sam’s gaze lands on the neckline of your shirt, skewed from the fight and revealing a good amount of cleavage. He quickly averts his eyes. What is happening? Sam can’t remember the last time anyone had evoked such a staggering reaction from him. He feels as if he’s a mere spectator in his own body.

Across from him, you press your hand against the wound and curse when it comes back covered in blood. At your groan of pain, Sam finally finds his voice again, “Shit. I’m so sorry! I don’t know how I missed that other one. I- that normally doesn’t happen.”

“Yeah, I bet that’s what you say to all the girls, huh?” you reply offhand, still a bit out of breath.

It’s easy for Sam to dismiss your mocking given that he feels terribly guilty for being the cause of your injury. From where he’s standing, the cut looks deep. “Here, at least let me stitch it up for you. It’s too awkward a position for you to do it yourself,” he offers, holding out his ginormous hands to you like he’s waving a white flag.

“I think you’ve done enough damage for one day, haven’t you, big guy? At this point, I’d rather Abercrombie over there be the one behind the needle.”

“Who- what?” are the first words Dean speaks since the action has died down.

You turn to face the shorter guy, “Oh don’t look so surprised. You might as well be the model for a slightly older Ken doll. Are you up for it or not?”

Dean’s mouth hangs open as he tries to determine whether he should feel flattered or insulted.

“Uh- actually, I’m better at stitches than my brother,” Sam butts in.

“With those jumbo, fumbling hands? Yeah, sure you are, big guy,” you decline skeptically.

“It’s Sam,” he states through a clenched jaw.

“OK, Sam. Since I just saved your life, you mind making yourself useful and burning those bodies while your bro puts my arm back together? You know, as a ‘thank you’ perhaps?”

Sam is stunned for the third time that day. No one has ever belittled him (whilst gratuitously attacking his size) insofar without any apparent reason. It seems as though his very existence upsets you and the arbitrariness of your contempt has caused an anger to stir beneath him, but beyond that lies bewilderment and irritation. How had he managed to accomplish two such massive mistakes in front of you in the span of so short a time? Perturbed and bitter, Sam silently sets to work on the bodies.

Meanwhile, you’ve come to a surprising realization as Dean begins to cut the fabric of your flannel away from your damaged arm, the name ‘Sam’ and the words ‘my brother’ resounding in your head, “Wait a second- there’s no way… you’re not… the Winchesters, are you? Sam and… Dean?”

“The one and only, sweetheart.” He sends you a dazzling smile that is as perfect as you’d expect, but within his eyes is an underlying poignancy that you recognize as clear as day: an indication of a traumatic past and a lifetime spent plastering on tough veneers. You notice as well how gentle his touch is and how his stitches are practiced and prudent. Perhaps you had judged him too hastily.

Through an incredulous chuckle, you retort, “Well I can’t say I didn’t expect more from you, but at least this’ll get me a free round of drinks at the hunters’ pub tonight.”

Dean laughs with you before sobering at the thought of how his baby brother must be feeling, “Hey listen, take it easy on Sammy, alright? I don’t know what’s gotten into him today but he’s not usually like this. He’s actually the smart one, believe it or not.”

Scoffing, you can’t help but smile back at Dean and soon find an easy rhythm with the older Winchester, despite your awkward introduction.

From several yards away, however, Sam looks wistfully back to see you smiling lightheartedly at something Dean’s said, the two of you huddled in close proximity as his brother’s hands drift across your bare skin. Something akin to envy bubbles within his chest although he’s aware it makes no sense, so with a frown, Sam does his best to shake it off and get back to work.

But it’s not easy to forget you. And just as Sam is beginning to think he’s rid that awful day from his memory, you pop back into his life three months down the line.

“Well, if it isn’t the overgrown hunter extraordinaire Sammy Winchester.” The sarcasm that oozes from your otherwise beguiling voice has him gritting his teeth in no time.

“It’s Sam.”

“So you here to mess up my hunt again, Sam?”

Although he wishes he could have been the bigger man instead of surrendering to the resentment you roused within him, after a couple repeated hatchet burying attempts fall through, Sam just can’t resist the little game you’ve started.

Over the next few months, you and Dean form a fortuitously close bond and the older Winchester develops a habit of calling you up when faced with a troublesome hunt, and vice versa. Despite Sam’s fabricated displeasure, a show he puts on mostly for Dean (since any other emotion would seem illogical given the way you treat him), Sam is peculiarly and begrudgingly excited to see you every time. But the match never ends. In fact, Sam lets it intensify each time you work together, always astounded by how you manage to get him so worked up.

“I’m telling you, it’s a rugaru!”

“Right, because the last time we listened to you, things worked out so well,” you remark sardonically.

“The lore says-“

“Ooh, quoting the lore again now are we, Mr. Know It All?”

At this point, Sam is about as huffy and puffy as the big bad wolf and if he were a cartoon character, there’d surely be steam erupting from his ears. “Look, Y/N, this isn’t about who knows more or who’s right; this is about saving those people’s lives!”

“You think I don’t know that? Was I not the one who saved your life the first time we met?”

“OK, alright, just shut up you two!” Dean finally shouts above you, “Would it kill you to just get along for two seconds?”

“No,” Sam admits.

“Probably,” you say at the same time, causing Sam to shoot you his overly perfected bitch face.

SIX MONTHS LATER

“What the fuck?!” Dean’s booming voice echoes throughout the bunker and moments later you and Sam come flying into the kitchen to answer his call, guns at the ready.

“What? What is it?” you ask while Sam scans the room.

A whimper is the only the way to describe the sound of Dean’s reply, as he points toward an unseen object on the floor. Edging toward him, you lower your gun in the direction of his finger until you discover the source of Dean’s distress.

With a sigh, you look toward Sam who is also exhaling in relief at the sight of the entity in question. The two of you share a moment of wordless conversation before simultaneously dropping your guns with a conclusive nod.

“Why does this feel like déjà vu?” Dean’s tone is still timid and appalled, and you nearly laugh at the idea of a grown-ass man looking so aghast because of a used condom.

“Because it kinda is…” you supply unhelpfully, earning yourself a small glare from the man beside you.

“Dean,” Sam begins with a deep breath, “There’s something we have to tell you… Y/N and I are together.”

The snort that escapes Dean is full-bodied and borderline psychotic, “Yeah, right, and I’m Santa!”

You wait till his snickering subsides, “No, it- it’s true.” Your voice is hesitant yet hopeful, “We’re not joking. We’ve kinda become… a thing.”

“A thing?”

“Yeah, well you know, I don’t wanna have to put a label on it or-“

“Y/N’s my girlfriend,” Sam declares with conviction as he reaches out to curl his long fingers around your waist and lasso you towards him.

“-Buuuut, that is the one I’d use if anyone asks,” you quickly affirm with a stiff pat to your boyfriend’s abdomen, wincing at the unversed attempt of PDA and missing the dimpled grin that crosses Sam’s amused features.

“Well, I don’t buy it. I don’t believe either of you.” Dean’s sturgeon face comes on strong as he shakes his head and points a challenging finger at you, “Kiss him, right now,” he dares with perked brows.

The eye roll you respond with is so dramatic your entire head moves with it. But then, without a moment of pause, you turn your body into Sam’s, reach up to grab the back of his neck and pull him down for a searing kiss. Now this is something you’re well-versed in. The reunion of your lips starts off relatively slow, but it doesn’t take long to escalate into something more fiery that involves tongue, the eager push and pull movements of your bodies, and Sam’s enormous hands cradling your head.

After a moment of shock, Dean objects, “Alright, alright, I get it! That’s enough of that!”

Unwilling to recede just yet, you linger in the kiss for a little longer, delaying your separation by nibbling down on Sam’s lower lip and tugging gently, only releasing it as you pull away torturously slow. When the two of you finally open your languid eyes, it’s to stare into each other’s dilated pupils and ponder the moment for an indiscernible minute.

“What th- I said, I get it! Now could please stop ogling each other before my lunch comes back out the wrong way?!”

But the way Sam’s smiling at you is addictive and you can’t bring yourself to look away until he forces a break by leaning in to plant a tender kiss upon your forehead before tucking you into his side as he faces his brother again.

Dean’s face is covered by his hand, “I’m gonna need a minute. I just-“ His features leap through a range of expressions as he tries to find the right words, “When the hell did this start anyway? I thought you two couldn’t stand each other?”

“Yeahhh, that was mostly an act. Although we bought it at first too,” you explain with a shrug.

“We weren’t pretending the whole time. It just kind of happened and we didn’t really know how else to act around each other by then,” Sam adds.

“Right, basically it turns out there’s a fine line between love and hate... and that line is hardcore yearning.” Your words bring a chuckle to Sam’s lips but his brother still looks out of sorts.

Shaking his head with closed eyes, Dean sighs, “Alright, can someone just explain to me exactly how this happened, because I’m still not computing here. But spare me the details and try to keep it PG-13,” he emphasizes with adamant hand gestures.

“How do you know it’s not PG-13?” you inquire with a held-back laugh.

“Ha. With the way you two were playing tonsil hockey just now, I can tell you’ve been around the bend way more than I wanna know. My little brother doesn’t kiss like that on the first date.”

It’s impossible to hold back a giggle at the memory of your ‘first date’ and the way Sam had kissed you, “OK well, that would be hard, considering the story involves a lot of sex... You wanna give it a go, big guy?” you pass the ball over to Sam with a quirked brow and lowered voice, to which he responds with narrowed eyes and pursed lips, a little warning glance that you’re well aware means ‘save it for the bedroom’ but you simply smirk up at him.

‘Big guy’ used to be a term you called Sam in contempt, but when the feelings between you evolved and a sexual relationship developed, it became an innuendo, such that calling him ‘big guy’ in front of Dean or in public almost always results in glorious sex. In fact, sometimes you believe the nickname has held a slightly obscene connotation for you since the beginning.

Afterall, your carnal longing for him has been present from day one, although at the time you had believed it to be purely physical. Sure, you had dreams about having him in various positions in your bed, but you figured those were merely betrayals of your subconscious mind. That was until one day, a heated argument in a rare moment alone had ended up in a violent make out session, after which the two of you had just barely gotten the last of your clothes back on before Dean walked in. One look at your worked up and frenetic states alongside the disordered condition of your surroundings, and he immediately assumed you’d been fighting again (which wasn’t terribly far from the truth), chortling as he asked if you would have killed each other had he returned a bit later.

With a clearing of his throat, Sam begins to recount the tale, “Uh, well it started in that motel in South Carolina, while you were out getting food…”

“Look, all I’m saying is there is no way he’s using the hospital as a dump site! It’s just not feasible!”

With complete disregard for the peace and quiet of the other residents within this thin-walled motel, you and Sam once again find yourselves in a shouting match.

“Oh right, I forgot! You’re Sam Winchester! How could you POSSIBLY be wrong?! Mister ‘look at me, my IQ and LSAT score match my fucking height! Oh and I also happen to have the physique of an Adonis without even owning a gym membership!’” you roar bitterly, gesticulating with your hands to help better communicate your pent-up indignation.

“Right and you’re Y/N Y/L/N, so how could YOU possibly be wrong? Miss ‘look at me, I never went to college but I’m a genius AND I can kick ass! Oh and I also happen to look effortlessly stunning through it all!’” Sam suddenly seems bigger than ever as he towers over you, that panty-soaking deep voice emanating from his diaphragm and infusing itself throughout the entire room until all you can see, hear, and breathe is Sam.

The fury takes over and you don’t notice your feet taking you closer to him, “Oh yeah because you don’t make EVERYTHING you do look so unnecessarily hot and make me wanna rip your clothes off all the damn time!”

“Fuck! And you don’t always drive me crazy when we have these stupid arguments and your chest starts heaving and you look so insanely delectable I just wanna pick you up and fuck you against the closest surface!” By now, the distance between you is essentially nonexistent and your brain is no longer run by reason.

“So why don’t you then?” are your famous last words, prompting Sam to grab you wildly by the back of a thigh, lifting slightly and driving you to climb up him like a spider monkey fleeing from a grounded predator, while his other hand pushes your hair aside to gain better access to your face. Your mouths clash in a fierce battle and before you know it, Sam’s huge hands are cupping your ass as your legs wrap around his waist and you rut into him, hands flying from his shoulders to his hair. Those divine chestnut locks that you’ve always dreamed of running your fingers through. They’re somehow even softer than you imagined and the revelation, in conjunction with the way Sam’s tongue is becoming increasingly aggressive causes a fresh surge of libidinous energy to rocket through you. As a result, you give his silky strands an irresistible tug and drink in the moan he makes, the sinful sound reverberating straight down to your core as you clench around nothing.

“Wait, wait, wait,” Sam groans as he grudgingly forces himself to pull back as much as he can, “Are you sure? Is this what you want? Cause I can’t- Y/N I won’t be able to stop myself if we keep going.” His eyes squeeze shut as if the notion of stopping or the act of keeping his lips away from yours is causing him genuine pain, and the entire gesture moves you.

“Fuck, you really are the opposite of everything I thought you would be,” you make a quick mental note to apologize later for your initially presumptuous behavior although you can’t find it within yourself to feel any remorse right now, “Yes, please Sam, fuck me. I want you so bad… I think I have since we met and I saw those gorgeous hands of yours,” you confess, biting your lip lightly.

Sam breathes out a low incredulous laugh, “What, these?” he asks, removing one of the aforementioned hands away from your butt to bring it into your line of vision.

“Yes, fuck they’re so big and beautiful and strong and-“

“Alright, I don’t need to know about your weird hand fetish!” Dean hollers abruptly, rubbing his fingers across his eyes as if he could somehow erase the image of you and his brother together out of his retinas. “OK, but that was like… four months ago. You mean you’ve been sneaking around behind my back this whole time?”

“Well at first we didn’t want to tell you because we weren’t even sure what it was ourselves,” you divulge.

“Yeah, we didn’t want to try to explain something that we didn’t understand yet,” Sam supplements, hoping his brother will understand the motive behind your secrecy.

You nod along, “But then… it got a little harder to hide.”

The apprehension behind Dean’s emerald eyes is unmistakable as he reluctantly inquires, “That’s why this felt like déjà vu?”

It’s with a grimace that you reply, hesitantly, “Remember the time you found those panties in the backseat of the Impala?”

Dean’s eyes grow comically wide and Sam ducks his head in preparation of what’s to come.

“Yeah, there’s a story behind that…”

The click of her heels against the porcelain-tiled foyer irritates you as the three of you stride through her front door. You’re posing as detectives sent to question this overdressed young woman about her late husband, but the moment she lays her eyes on Sam, you reckon she’s forgotten her beloved’s damn name.

“Oh my… lord and savior. Well aren’t you a tall drink of water?” she beholds breathlessly with a seductive bite of her painted ruby lips.

You cough loudly and Dean sniggers, thinking you’re annoyed about Sam getting such commendation and attention during a serious case.

“I know this might be the grief talking, but I would climb you like a tree,” she purrs, sauntering up to Sam with an exaggerated sway of her hips. With her half-lidded doe eyes adorned with dark, fluttery lashes and low, sultry voice, you have to admit she’s quite attractive.

Grinding your teeth as your nails dig into your palms, you glower at the woman unreservedly. She, however, takes no notice, running her hands along Sam’s forearms before gripping at his bicep to lead him toward her living room. “Please, come have a seat, detective. You can ask me whatever you want.” The wink she appends is somehow the final nail in the coffin.

It’s with zero hesitation that you feign the reception of a notification on your phone before declaring, “Oh would you look at that, the uh… Sheriff needs us back at the station, Sam. He says it’s urgent.” You try to keep your tone even, thankful that you all maintained your real first names for these aliases, “Dean, you’re good to conduct this interview on your own, right?” Without waiting for an answer, you trample over to snatch Sam’s other arm and ignoring the horny widow’s gaping mouth, proceed to haul him away.

Dean sends you a strange look but relents, “Uh, yeah I guess, OK.”

As soon as the door closes behind you, your hand shifts down to lace your fingers with Sam’s, marching him towards the Impala with a staunch and mighty purpose. Even Sam’s elongated legs stumble to keep up.

“So uh… when did you give the Sheriff your number?” There’s an edge in his voice that normally disappears when it’s just the two of you.

“Wha- I didn’t. Sam, I just made all that up,” you tell him as you reach the car and open its back door. Pushing Sam inside, you climb in swiftly after him, wasting no time as you straddle his thighs and begin to undress him, only pausing when he looks up at you in adorable, puppy-like confusion.

“Wait, what? Then what are we doing?”

That’s when it finally dawns on you, “Hold on a sec, were you… jealous?” You can’t help but smile, finding it amusing that he’s stewing in his own envy after what you just witnessed.

“No, I just- He was kinda all over you this morning.”

“You mean like the way Mrs. My-Husband-Just-Died-But-I-Wanna-Climb-You-Like-a-Tree was in there?”

“Oh, that’s what this is about?” Sam perks up, the hint of a smug grin ghosting across his lips.

“She was practically holding your hand!”

“That’s what bothered you the most?” He dips his head to catch your eyes and those variegated irises burn into you with an intense, questioning gaze, alight with mischievous curiosity.

“They’re my hands to hold,” you contend with a pout, subconsciously clenching your thighs around his as you seize one of his large hands with two of your much smaller ones, “Just like you’re my tree to climb.”

Sam’s head falls back in bright laughter, “I thought you said they were ‘oversized’ and ‘ungainly’?” he teases, quoting your previous slights.

“You know I only said that cause Dean was there.”

“I’m pretty sure you called them ‘fumbly’ and ‘lumbering’ the first time we met.”

Staring at his fingers as you play with them, you shiver at the memory of how they feel all over you. “That was cause I used to think all hunters with a Y chromosome were cocky, misogynistic assholes who needed to be knocked down a peg or two.”

“But I proved you wrong, right?”

“Fuck yes you did. So, so wrong. And now you’re mine, and I don’t like seeing other people touch what’s mine,” you growl before returning to your earlier task of removing his clothes, pouncing on him when your fingers finally land on bare skin. You kiss him fiercely, swallowing his surprised grunts with glee, and as his hands start travelling from your hips up to your back, holding you tight against him, your lips move down to his pulse point, sucking, licking, and nibbling, “Mine.”

“Fucking Jesus Christ on a cracker! You goddamn rabbits!” Dean squawks in protest as he begins to pace the floor, “Have you no decency?! And in my poor Baby! While I was busy doing all the work, saving lives!”

You roll your eyes at his melodramatics and can feel the tension in Sam’s abdominal muscles as he attempts to restrain his laughter. As if Dean had never taken a break during a case for a stress-relieving quickie before, or hadn’t been at least somewhat grateful to be left alone with a beautiful woman.

His next comment confirms your point, “Although, if I remember correctly that lady was a fox.” After a brief pondering pause and an introspectively appreciative smirk, Dean’s whining resumes, “But seriously! I can’t believe you two! Here I was feeling bad for forcing you to work and live together, hoping you’d eventually learn to get along when this whole time you were shacking up like animals and casually defiling my Baby just because what? Some girl touched Sam’s hand?!”

Feeling emboldened by the catharsis of this long-overdue airing of your dirty laundry, you decide to add to Dean’s exasperation, “Yeah and in the spirit of honesty, that might’ve happened more than once.” Sam tries to hold back his snort as he gives your hip a playful cautionary squeeze while Dean’s feet come to a full stop as he turns to give you a death glare. “Hey, it’s not my fault all the pretty girls like Samuel! And I’m pretty sure we wiped her down after.”

“I don’t even-“ Dean purses his lips and quirks his head with a dynamic expression of unbearable vexation, “You better be getting me pie every day of the week for what you did.“ He takes a deep breath before circling back, “Wait, OK so you’re telling me that a used condom ended up in our kitchen because- what? You two couldn’t keep it in your pants long enough to find a bed? You know what, forget I asked. I don’t wanna know. Did you at least sanitize the place after?? No, of course you didn’t, you left a fucking condom on the floor… I think I’m gonna throw up.”

But you hardly hear Dean’s rambling because you and Sam are far too wrapped up in each other, smiling as you recall the events of that morning.

Your eyes slowly drift open to find the most exalting sight in all the world: Sam Winchester’s sleeping face, blissful and serene. Lifting a hand to gingerly cup his cheek, the corners of your mouth curl up when he leans into your touch. It’s moments like this that make you wish you could wake up next to him every morning.

Only after you’ve traced his every feature and planted a soft kiss where his dimple would be if he were awake and smiling, do you carefully peel yourself from his side, slipping out of his hold as you quietly climb out of bed. Sam rolls over a bit and you freeze with bated breath, watching as his big arm extends out in your direction as if trying to reach for you in his sleep, before stilling again.

Mornings like this are rare and you want him to soak up all the restful sleep he can. Once you’re sure you haven’t woken him, you scan the room for something to cover your naked figure, until your eyes land on the flannel he’d worn the night before. Picking it up, you bring it to your nose and inhale deeply to revel in the residual scent of Sam. Another glimpse at his peaceful, sleeping form has you smiling fondly. God, you are such a goner for that man. It’s becoming hard to reserve your soft looks toward him for private moments alone.

You can barely remember how it happened, but over time, you’d come to learn that Sam is nothing like you originally imagined him to be. He’s kind-hearted and open-minded, the type of soul that can find hope and beauty in even the darkest of places, a far cry from the shallow macho man silhouette you’d expected him to fill. In fact, Sam routinely defies the expectations others have enforced upon him, proving his worth time and time again as he’s persisted through some of what must be the toughest challenges to ever face a single human. Yet through it all, his spirit remains intact, never once yielding to cynicism or resentment or apathy or even the building of walls as you and Dean have resorted to. He is truly the bravest man you know and infinitely more competent than your first fluke of a hunt with him had mistakenly suggested, both in the field and in bed.

Shaking the thoughts from your head, you wrap yourself in plaid and head out the door. Dean never questions your use of Sam’s shirts because ever since Sam firmly insisted on giving you his flannel after your second encounter with them resulted in Dean cutting your own top apart, you’ve grown into a habit of borrowing Sam’s clothes. You always claim they’re more comfortable than your own and Sam’s feigned annoyance over you ‘stealing’ his belongings tides Dean right over.

Half an hour passes before Sam approaches the bunker kitchen to find you with your back towards the entrance, busy prepping breakfast in nothing but his plaid. He pauses in the doorway to stare at you for a minute, licking his lips with an irrepressible smile. For some, this may seem like a stereotypical morning after, but for a couple of hunters, it feels like a dream come true.

After finally returning to the bunker last night following the completion of a series of successful hunts, you’ve got no solid obligations and very little on your to-do lists today, although Sam’s got more than a few ideas about how to pass the time, and a couple more come to mind when you stretch up on your toes to reach for something, causing the hem of his shirt to glide up until its corner reveals just slightest hint of your incredible ass. Sam can’t suppress his little grunt of approval, which catches your attention and makes you turn your head, peering back at him over your shoulder.

You smirk at the blessed view of him standing there in nothing but the pair of thin grey sweatpants you’d bought him a month ago when you discovered the viral online phenomenon, “Hey, big guy. You just gonna stand there and gawk or do you wanna make yourself useful and grab another plate from the top shelf?”

Chuckling at your false animosity, Sam stalks toward you, “Good morning to you too.” One of his vast hands falls upon your hip as he presses the maximum possible length of his body into your back side, while his other hand reaches up over your head to snatch the plate you’d asked for.

“Good morning indeed,” you concur with a silent gasp when you feel the generous bulge in his pants.

“Oh that’s not morning, baby girl,” Sam husks into your ear, “That’s all you.” His powerful arms slink around you and his lips find their way down the side of your neck, lingering in that tender spot just behind your ear whilst you tilt your head and close your eyes, contentedly surrendering yourself to the moment. “I ever tell you how good you look in my shirts?”

Wiggling your butt back to tease him a bit, you’re pleased with the hiss it elicits. “No, but you made it very clear how bad I look in Dean’s,” you counter playfully.

The man behind you scoffs, “I didn’t say you looked bad; you could never look bad. I just… don’t like seeing you wear his clothes.”

“Oh, I know,” you turn around in his arms, “I just don’t understand how Dean doesn’t know yet. I mean, I think you’ve been very obvious.”

“And you haven’t?”

“I’m not the one who leaves hickeys in very visible places all over your body!”

Sam’s eyes glaze over in lust, an idea clearly forming in his head as he glances down at you. “Dean’s a hot-blooded guy; he needs to know you’re off-limits,” he alleges before attacking your throat with his mouth.

“So why don’t we just tell him?”

Without pausing his efforts, Sam reminds you, “Because you said you thought it was kinda hot, all the sneaking around. Mmpf, and because you said you wanted to see how long it would take him to figure it out.”

You nod while running your fingers through his silken strands and leaning back to give him more purchase, “That’s true. But in my defence, we always have this conversation when we’re doing stuff like this and I can’t think straight when your hands and mouth are on me.”

“Kinda like how I can’t think straight when you’re wearing nothing but my shirt?” His kisses travel down from your neck to your collarbone and shoulder as he slides his loosely buttoned flannel off to one side, “Fuck, you’ve got me so hard.”

Without warning, Sam seizes your waist and hoists you into the air as if gravity were an absolute joke, before plopping you down on the edge of the steel counter, his thumbs digging lightly into your ribcage.

“Sam! This is where we eat!” you protest with a laugh.

“Exactly. Which is why I’m gonna devour you here.” He dives back into your neck, continuing his work on a little pink mark that’s already beginning to form.

“Oh fuck… Wait, what if Dean walks in?” It’s through a great struggle that you manage to push him back an inch.

“He’s got a date with the Impala. He’ll be in the garage all day, trust me.” Sam’s gaze sweeps over your body suggestively, “Now are you gonna let me taste what’s mine?”

With an equally lewd survey of his extensive frame, you reply, “As long as you let me impale myself on what’s mine later.”

His eyes darken and the way he’s looking at you like you’re the only person he’s ever wanted ignites a confidence within you, so in a rather swift motion, you grasp him by the shaft through his sweatpants – the delicious groan he emits at your touch is enough to turn your pussy into a slip and slide – and pull him back towards you until the clothed length of him is resting against your folds and your noses brush, while his hands settle naturally on your thighs.

Shivering, your breath stutters and for an instant you can do nothing but bask in the closeness of him. Sam seems to enjoy it too because he closes his eyes as he rests his forehead against yours with an elated sigh. For the second time today, you marvel at his beauty, whispering a string of gasping kisses along his lower eye socket and exquisite cheekbone, simply dying to breathe him in. All of him is so immaculate and sublime. Each time the two of you reconvene, you want to savor every fucking inch of him, but there are a lot of inches, so the task often overwhelms you. Still, you must try. Locking your ankles behind him, you use your legs to pull him even further into you and the friction makes you lose your mind.

“Fuck, baby girl, you keep that up I’ll be making a mess in my pants,” Sam grunts with his lips upon your cheek.

Your breathless laughter fills the air, thinking of the stain you've undoubtedly already left on his charming grey sweatpants. Nimble as he is, Sam takes advantage of your open mouth and plunges his tongue inside. After so much preamble, the kiss is heavy and full of need. When the pressure of his lips pushes your head back, your hands fly to his wrists for the sake of your balance.

From there, they journey upward across his vascular forearms to his bulging triceps, fondling his massive shoulders before sliding along his traps and up the gorgeous length of his perfect neck, until you finally reach the treasure trove of his impeccable locks. You tangle your fingers into the lush mane and yank, gently but zealously, making Sam growl into your mouth. His voice is the hottest thing you’ve ever heard and the sounds he makes always drive you insane.

Never breaking the kiss, Sam’s colossal moose paws roam up to your back as he slowly lays you down on the counter, his member somehow still notched at your entrance and the new angle rousing a quiet moan from you. When he ultimately pulls away, you pitch forward to chase after his lips, but Sam only grants you a devilish grin and a quick peck to the corner of your mouth before moving down to your jaw and neck. While one palm kneads at your breast through his shirt, the other begins pushing and pulling at fabric to uncover more of your skin for his wandering lips.

“Sam! Augh!” you cry out as your head falls back.

“I got you, baby. I’m all yours. Gonna make you feel so good.” As if to attest his words, he rolls his hips into yours and a needy whimper escapes you. With your fingers still twisted in his hair, Sam leaves no part of you untouched as his mouth travels down your body. But upon reaching your navel, he pauses, those vivid, color-changing eyes peeping up at you to check for any signs of discomfort or objection. Finding none, his thick tongue pokes out to lick a deliriously winding path from your belly button to your exposed clit. Then, pushing down tenderly on the insides of your knees to open you up to him, Sam directs you one last look that is both hungry and reverent, “I still can’t believe this is mine.”

Dean had stopped you halfway through your recollection, but it appears that was still too much for him, “What did I do to deserve this?! I feel like I need to go bathe in holy water for a week.”

You and Sam both open your mouths to respond but Dean cuts you off vehemently, “Ba-da-da-da!” His vocalized outcry is complete with animated gestures featuring an accusing index finger. “OK, before you two tell me another traumatizing story, that’s enough of the who, what, when, where, and how… I just need to know why. I mean, is this- are you- …?”

Sensing the protective wheels turning in his head, you decide to put Dean out his misery, “I’m not just with Sam because he’s an incredible lay if that’s what you’re wondering. We can skip the fatherly ‘what are your intentions’ talk. Yes, Dean, I am in love with your little brother… although ‘little’ is not exactly the word I’d use to describe him.”

“Sammy, could you please control your woman?”

“My woman?” Sam sounds mostly amused but you’re almost certain you can hear a hint of pride in his voice.

“Yeah, I admit I’m surprised I didn’t see it until now. You two are kinda oddly perfect for each other, you know, in a weird, kinky way.”

“To be honest, we’re pretty surprised too. I mean, he doesn’t look it but this guy is kind of territorial,” you quip whilst cocking a thumb in Sam’s direction.

“I don’t need to- Wait a minute, so all those bruises you told me were from hunts?” Dean’s eyebrows soar towards his hairline.

Chewing on your lip, you confirm his hypothesis with a miniscule nod.

“Yeah well that time you saw my back,” Sam chimes in vengefully, casting you a handsome grin full of mischief as he reveals, “that wasn’t a werewolf, that was Y/N.”

With eyes as round as dinner plates, Dean frantically shuts you both down, “OK, that’s it. Torture Dean time is over. I don’t wanna hear any more about your depraved sex lives! Look, I guess I’m happy for you guys, although mostly cause I don’t have to play referee anymore, but I’m gonna need you to follow some ground rules around here. Like rule number one! No sex in public places!” he starts counting with his fingers, “Always put a sock on it when you’re busy! And most importantly, no sex in Baby!”

Your laughter follows Dean as he wearily saunters out of the kitchen, an exhausted expression on his face. Turning to your newly outed boyfriend, you petition excitedly, “Does this mean we can have shower sex now?”

“Not while I’m around!” comes Dean’s snappy answer.

In contrast, Sam gives you the same look he did on that dreamy morning, “Oh trust me baby girl, I’m gonna get you wet somehow.”

“Still within hearing distance! I think I liked it better when you guys were at each other’s throats.”

As you’re giggling, Sam leans down to whisper in your ear, “For the record, I’m in love with you too.” And just like that, you’re tempted to re-enact your previous kitchen escapades.

TEAM IDJITS: @mrswhozeewhatsis @carryonmywaywardbucky @swiftlymoniquesblog @moosewinchester @sams-sass @thinkinghardhardlythinking @jotink78 @winifrede @writingforthelonelysoul @turtletaylor98 @lyarr24 @deanwanddamons @peridottea91 @tvdspngirl314

TEAM MOOSE: @paulaern

if you’d like to be added (or removed) please let me know!

#sam winchester x reader #mads300madones #333 badass followers #spnfluffbingo2021 #Girl Next Door's Make Me Feel Bingo #sam x reader #sam winchester x female!reader #sam winchester smut #enemies to lovers #sam winchester fluff #secret dating #sam winchester x you #sam x y/n #spn #supernatural fanfic #fanfiction #my writing #text

792 notes · View notes

fairestwriting · 3 years

Note

Hi ❤️❤️

Can I ask for HC of Twisted Wonderland? Like, Riddle, Malleus, Epel, Vil and Azul has a crush on Yuu/reader and ask them what's their type, so Yuu/reader start to describe their type (in a jokingly way) like in GUY. EXE (a song)

Ignore this if you don't like it, im sorry if i'm being annoying

Anyways, remember drink water ❤️

thanks so much for all the sweet words! this took me a bit because ive never listened to that song before this fkskfdkl thank you for introducing me to it though i really like it

Riddle Rosehearts

He’ll ask you the question short of shyly, when you two are at Heartslabyul’s common area together, drinking some tea.

Never heard the song, so when you giggle and go “A doctor, a model, a man of possibilities.” in a sing-songy tone he’ll just nod, looking down at his teacup with reddish cheeks.

You’ll have to tell him it’s a song or he’ll go his whole life thinking that’s the sort of guys you’re into.

He also has high standards for himself (And others) so he doesn’t think it’s unreasonable? He’s sort of proud of you for knowing what you want and knowing your value actually.

Makes a little mental note to hopefully become the sort of person you could fall for. You’ll notice a little determined sparkle on his eyes when that happens.

Malleus Draconia

“Nice car, a CEO, and almost just as smart as me.” You say, and Malleus eyes subtly go wide.

Doesn’t recognize the song either, and I’m pretty sure they don’t have CEOs in the Valley of Thorns, so he’ll ask for clarification on what that is.

Just as earnest as Riddle, if not more. He’ll be patiently waiting for more information on what kind of man you’d want to be with. He could probably do that, right?

The implied high standards won’t faze him either, but, wow, he’s really impressed with your confidence. How refreshing it is to see somebody acting like that around him. Has a little moment internally because of how fearless he sees you as.

Please tell him it’s a joke. Once he knows what a CEO is he will try to become one as courtship.

Epel Felmier

You two are procrastinating on your studies and making some light conversation when he asks the question, flushed pink up to his ears. He’d been thinking about asking it for a while, and now was his chance.

He is so, so depressed when you go “Six feet tall and super strong, we’d always get along.” though.

Possibly heard the song before but when the height thing hits it hits hard. Sighs in complete defeat. Ah, so he’s no good after all, he’s barely 5′1...

If you didn’t notice his crush before you will now, it’s like a raincloud instantly appears over his head.

Remind him it’s a song and you’re kidding because his heart just shattered into a million pieces.

Might approach you long after this interaction, if he’s feeling bold, and ask, just to be sure, if you’d be okay if your boyfriend isn’t very tall, right? You wouldn’t mind if he’s actually pretty small, would you?

Vil Schoenheit

Definitely recognizes the song instantly.

“Oh, he’d pick me up at eight, and not a minute late, ‘cause I don’t like to wait, no.” You sing, smirk on your face, and Vil chuckles.

“Kind and ain’t afraid to cry, or treat his momma right” He’ll sing back at you, amused “You have good taste for a potato."

I think he'd like the song. He relates to it in a way, having really high standards for who he'd date himself. It also just has a fun beat Vil can appreciate from time to time.

Keeps quizzing you on what your type would be, though. You quoting the song only makes him more curious, are you the type to have high standards as well? A part of him hopes you are. Vil thinks you only deserve the best of the best.

Turns the conversation into subtle flirting somehow. Praises you if you do in fact have high standards, while also showing off his qualities a bit. Wants you to know he could be your picture perfect guy, if you want him to.

Azul Ashengrotto

You're having dinner in Mostro Lounge together when he brings the topic up, hoping to tailor his plan to woo you that had been already in the works (And not going too well until now, admittedly...)

Instead of getting the insight he was hoping to, though, what Azul gets is you grinning as you go I need a man who don't get jealous 'less I want him to, a gentleman to take care of me in the bedroom." before bursting into giggles.

"That's... a very bold response." He'll say, keeping his cool businessman smile, but the tips of his ears are burning red.

Another one that has never heard the song, and will think you're serious. He's taking mental notes, ready to question you further as you eat.

Hoping to let you know that, hey, he can do all these things you want your ideal boyfriend to do! He'll slide in comments about how capable he is as you talk -- Unless you just go on with the song quoting, if you do that he'll lose track of himself eventually.

It's just a lot of requeriments. You can see his eyes widening at them. He's internally panicking a bit but, but -- Surely he can do all of that, right? As long as he works as hard as he can...

Another one that needs to be warned that it's a joke before he does something crazy.

#twst #twisted wonderland #disney twisted wonderland #disney twst #twst imagines #twst headcanons #riddle rosehearts #malleus draconia #epel felmier #vil schoenheit #azul ashengrotto #riddle rosehearts x reader #malleus draconia x reader #epel felmier x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #azul ashengrotto x reader #lis writing

817 notes · View notes

cyoc49 · 3 years

Text

HIMBO Magazine: The New Hire

23 year-old Barry Allen looked across the street at the office building of HIMBO, a lifestyle & fashion magazine targeted at gay men, and the site of his job interview. After graduating last May, Barry has tried for months to find a communications job with no luck, until he saw HIMBO’s advertisement for an entry-level social media position. The pay was unbelievably good, and they reached out to him about applying which made the whole situation seem very promising. He was a little uncomfortable about the idea of working at a gay magazine. I don’t have any issue with gay people, Barry thought, I just don’t understand a lot of the culture and I’m not really trying to. Still, the job was too good to pass up without at least interviewing.

Barry walked into the lobby of the building and was directed on how to reach the HIMBO’s offices. Stepping into the elevator, Barry thought about how sharply dressed everyone in the building was. It made him feel a little unprofessional, in his blazer, checkered shirt, and jeans. But the email had told him to dress “Appropriately for his position,” so he dressed the way he knew modern social media teams did.

As the elevator opened, Barry was greeted by the bright offices of HIMBO. The personnel working there (all male, he noticed) were dressed in a mixture of ridiculously eccentric business wear, speedos and harnesses, club outfits, other other bizarre fashions. “I’m guessing those are models?” Barry wondered, before walking over to a desk attended by a swishy receptionist.

The twinkish secretary looked up at Barry, and his eyes widened in excitement. “You must be the new applicant!” He exclaimed, jumping up out of his seat. “Oh, you’re perfect! He always knows the right people to pick. Well knock on wood, but I’m excited to work with you!” Then in a swift motion, the man darted around the desk and grabbed Barry by the hand. “Here, I can take you to him! He’s been waiting for you. I’m James, by the way! I work the desk!” And with that, Barry found himself being dragged along through the HIMBO offices.

“Uh, I have a question. Who is ‘he’?” Barry called along as he tried to keep pace with the fast-paced James.

“Christian Le Maître, the Editor in Chief! He’s brilliant. He does all the interviews and hiring himself. He’s the one who reached out to you.”

Wow, he picked me out himself, Barry thought, I must really be promising.

Barry spoke up “That’s pretty cool, to have a boss that cares that much.”

James nodded enthusiastically “Oh yes, he cares for us all so much! We’re all his boys here.”

Looking past the odd use of “boys”, Barry continued “I’m, uh, applying for a social media position.”

“Oh okay, interesting,” James said with less enthusiasm than usual, “He’ll sometimes try to figure out a different position for you during the interview. Just go along with what he says. I promise he has your best interests at heart.”

Before Barry could ask what that meant, James came to a sudden stop in front of a large heavy door. He knocked on it several times, before a deep muffled voice called out “Send him in” from behind the door.

James turned around, grinning ear to ear “Okay, best of luck! Remember: you’re gonna fit in here.” With that, he pranced back down the hallway, leaving Barry alone in front of the door.

He took a deep breath. “Well, here goes nothing,” he thought, and opened the door.

Walking into the office, Barry looked behind the desk and saw one of the most beautiful men he had ever seen.

His face was rugged and handsome, with insatiably curious eyes, perfect white teeth, and a beard that was just the right amount of stubble. His hair was parted with gel into a professional, clean, and gorgeous haircut. His toned muscles perfectly filled out his expensive looking business clothes: a light blue silk dress shirt, grey pinstripe pants, suspenders hung over his shoulders and pressed out by his chest, gorgeous-smelling black leather dress shoes, and a sterling silver watch. He was an absolute alpha male, so perfectly handsome and successful that Barry couldn’t help but feel awe, jealousy, and a hint of... lust?

The man looked at Barry and smiled a perfect smile. “Barry, is it? I’m Christian La Maître, but everyone around here just calls me Mr. M.” The man stood up, revealing his daunting 6’4 frame, and extended a muscular hand to Barry

Jesus, his voice is intoxicating, Barry swooned. It was so smoothly deep and inviting. With just the few words Barry already felt like he could listen to the man for hours. He reached out and took hold of Mr. M’s hand for an extremely firm handshake. As their hand touched, Barry felt a jolt, and found himself unable to take his eyes off the powerful man before him. And more importantly, he had no desire to move his eyes away.

Mr. M sat back down again. “So Barry, tell me about yourself. College graduate?”

“Uh, yes. Digital Communications maj-“

“Have you ever read HIMBO before?” Mr. M cut Barry off.

“No, sir” Barry said, neither objecting to being interrupted, nor noticing the “sir” he just said.

“Are you gay?” Mr. M examined Barry’s body up and down, never making eye contact.

“No, sir. I’m straight.” He paused “Is that okay?”

Mr. M let out a hearty laugh, and Barry found himself laughing along with the man too. It just felt right. This brilliant, perfect businessman that Barry was lucky enough to be in the presence of, anything he did had to be right.

“Ahhh, Barry. You’re a fun kid. Now unfortunately, that social media position was filled earlier this morning by another applicant. But I would be a fool not to bring you into the HIMBO team, Barry!” This filled Barry with joy. The approval of Mr. M felt so good.

“Now if I think about it...” Mr. M paused for a few moments, giving Barry another thorough looking over, “I think we have an opening in the accounting department.”

“Yes! I accept!” Barry shouted out. He didn’t even care that it was a totally different position than he had come here for, nor did he care that he had zero accounting experience. If Mr. M said he would be a good accountant, then Barry had to be the best accountant for his boss.

The man chuckled again. “There’s just a little on boarding we’d have to do to get you ready for the position. Beginning with dress code, for starters.”

“What’s wrong with my clothes, sir?” Barry asked eagerly. He would do anything for this man, who was offering him a coveted job at HIMBO magazine. Barry would change anything about himself.

“Well, you just dress so... cool. I mean look at that outfit! You are a hip young man who is ready for a good night out. And I love that for you, but I think a good accountant would dress a bit... sharper.”

The “sharper” bounced around in Barry’s head. Visions of men in suits and ties flooded his mind. He began to feel attracted to the idea of being a finely dressed man. In fact, he couldn’t imagine ever dressing down, not even in his free time. As Barry listened to Mr. M’s words, his plaid shirt rippled into a crisp white dress shirt. It tucked itself into his jeans.

“A good smart accountant would look his best at all times.”

Barry’s jeans turned into tight fitting grey dress pants, and a brown leather belt cinched itself firmly around his waist. His casual wool blazer morphed into a clean grey suit jacket matching his pants. Underneath, a gray sweater materialized and hugged itself to Barry’s slimming build.

“A good, clean-cut accountant.”

Barry felt his feet shift as his shoes changed into well-polished brown leather dress shoes, with wing tips. His socked changed to clean white socks, and inside his pants he felt briefs take form around his shrinking manhood.

“A good, nerdy accountant.”

A red bow tie wrapped itself around Barry’s neck and tied itself into a perfect knot. Large round glasses popped up on Barry’s face, which he knew he needed to wear every day. Barry’s hair ruffled as if wind was blowing through it, before settling in a clean side part, well-combed and maintained.

Barry stood before the incredibly powerful man before him looking totally different. Just 10 minutes ago Barry had dressed like any college graduate, but now looked as if he wore a suit every day of the week. But as for Barry himself, he had never felt better. As his clothes changed, Barry’s thoughts realized how right this felt. Barry now perfectly remembered his 2 hour morning dress routine. He knew exactly how much pomade to use to achieve the perfect side part, he remembered tying bow ties for six years now. His home wardrobe, all of it, had been replaced with suits, sweaters, shirts, dress shoes, and bow ties of every material, pattern, and color imagineable. This was the way he had dressed ever since he got to college and felt he could express himself truly. The truth was Barry loved the feel of a suit. The cleanness and dignity were an intoxicating feeling, and he couldn’t imagine himself in anything else.

Mr. M smiled a big smile. “There we go, an absolute perfect fit for our accountant opening. Welcome to the HIMBO team, Barry. Or should I say Bartholomew.”

That was right. Bartholomew Pippin, and he couldn’t be happier. He was a timid, nerdy kind of guy, sure, but he felt on top of the world. Bartholomew was an avid HIMBO reader for its good guides on men’s formalwear (and also so he could jerk off to the photos of shirtless guys), so to work at the magazine he loved, doing the job he loved (accounting) was a dream come true.

Mr. M stood up and walked over to Bartholomew, getting extremely close to him. “There’s just one last step in the hiring process...”

Barty shook a bit as he looked up at the domineering man before him. Mr. M was a tall man to begin with, but at his new height Bartholomew was 5’9, and the taller man encompassed him.

“I seal all my contracts... with a kiss.”

Barry’s knees quivered. He had realized he was gay at a young age, but aside from a few “almosts” in college, he had never gone farther than holding hands. Bartholomew had always reasoned that he would meet the right one eventually... and looking up at this man, Barty knew he had found it. Mr. M was all Barty would ever need. This man would control his work life and his sex life, dictating when Barty could pleasure himself, when he could come, and when he got the ultimate privilege of spending the night with Mr. M.

Bartholomew wrinkled his note and nodded eagerly “Of course, sir. I would be honored to kiss you.

As Barty stood on his tip toes to kiss his new boss - god, his lips were smooth and perfect - Barty felt all his changes lock into place. This is who he was. Bartholomew Pippin, mild-mannered accountant of HIMBO magazine, and one of Christian La Maître’s very good boys.

The two parted, and Mr. M gave Bartholomew another killer smile. “Bartholomew, I can already tell you’re gonna fit in here perfectly. And as a signing bonus, how about you stop by my place tonight. 7 PM sharp.”

“Oh thank you so much, Mr. M! I’ll be there at 6:45, I promise.”

“That’s a good boy, Barty. Now get settled in, your desk is at the end of the hall.” He gave Barty a spank on his bubble butt, and sent him on his way, to his new job and new life.

#gaytf #preppy #gay #preppy tf #preppytf #stepfordization #nerd #suittf #bowtie #the flash #barry allen #the flash tf #grant gustin

364 notes · View notes

kenmasangel · 3 years

Note

Heya! I just read your tall fem s/o x reader, and uh, I have a request for another one. Iwazumi, Kenma, and Osamu with a reader that’s very tall (5’8-5’9 ish)

One recommendation from a tall girl, if you’re making a fic about the reader being tall, please don’t just make them the same height as them 😅 (I mean, it’s fine if you do, but it’s really hard to find fics for us taller girls with shorter guys) (it’s frustrating to see fics always being like “he helps you get things from the top shelf” or “he rests his chin on your head” or always being shorter than them-) <3

[hc] dating a tall s/o;

(iwaizumi h., kenma k., miya o.)

ᴀᴀᴀᴀᴀʜ ᴏᴍɢ ᴛʜɪs ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍʏ ᴅᴀʏ!! ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ʟɪᴋᴇᴅ ɪᴛ,, ɪ ɴᴏᴛɪᴄᴇᴅ ʜᴏᴡ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇɴ'ᴛ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ғᴀɴғɪᴄs/sᴄᴇɴᴀʀɪᴏs/ʜᴄs ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴛᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀs sᴏ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ᴏɴᴇ ғᴏʀ ᴍʏ ᴛᴀʟʟ ᴋɪɴɢs/ǫᴜᴇᴇɴs/ʀᴏʏᴀʟs ʙᴜᴛ ᴛʜᴇɴ ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀs ᴍᴇʜ

ᴀʟsᴏ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ғᴏʀ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇᴄᴏᴍᴍᴇɴᴅᴀᴛɪᴏɴ! ɪ ᴡɪʟʟ ᴛᴀᴋᴇ ɪᴛ ɪɴ ᴄᴏɴsɪᴅᴇʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ɪғ ɪ ᴇᴠᴇʀ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ᴀɢᴀɪ,,, ᴛʙʜ ɪ ᴡᴀs ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴏғ sᴛᴏᴘ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ᴛʜɪs ʙʟᴏɢ ᴀɴʏᴍᴏʀᴇ sɪɴᴄᴇ ɪ ʟᴏsᴛ ᴀʟʟ ᴍᴏᴛɪᴠᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ʙᴜᴛ ʏᴏᴜʀ ʀᴇǫᴜᴇsᴛ ʟɪᴛᴇʀᴀʟʟʏ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ᴍʏ ᴡʜᴏʟᴇ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴀɴᴅ ɪ'ᴍ ɢʟᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴅᴏ ɪᴛ!!

p.s. i understand how difficult it is for tall girls in this society but i hope you guys know you are wonderful and you mesmerize me (❁´◡`❁)✲ i love you so much please you are gorgeous !!

masterlist

Iwaizumi Hajime

he is MESMERIZED by you

literally he just can't stop admiring you

iwa and you are both 5'10", yet you're still taller than him by a few inches

he nuzzles in the crook of your neck when you guys hug

“you smell so good baby,” “are you sniffing me, hajime?”

he will throw hands if someone dares making a comment about your height

you already know he has beaten oikawa already

he gets SO FLUSTERED when your faces are mere inches away from each other

“baby?” you called iwa as he was facing the shelves reading the ingredients of whatever he was holding.

“mhm?” he turned around to face you and was surprised to see how close your faces were; you are slightly taller than him and that day you wore shoes that made you look a bit taller. he became crimson as he head was slightly up, he got lost inside your eyes for a hot min before you snapped him back to reality from his transe. “you got the wrong box,” you smiled at him, your hand reaching for another box one shelf above.

“you could've taken it without making me turn around, dumbass,” he quickly mumbles moving forward.

whenever you feel insecure about your height (which i hope doesn't happen often/ never happens) he won't hesitate to show you how much he loves your height, and how gorgeous you are and show you other tall girls to make you feel empowered

he will tell you by a plus b how society's standards are trash and how you shouldn't compare yourself based on them

“they're hypocrites AND irrelevant!”

go off haji!!😤

he's your #1 hype man

Kenma Kozume

you're obv way taller than him

he's 5'6" and you're one gorgeous 5'8"

it doesn't bother him in the slightest tho, he thinks you're the most gorgeous person to take a step on earth

but he never told you that tho, you know kenma's communication skills aren't the best

he loves it when you hug him from behind and rest your chin on his head,, he feels your warmth envelop him and it makes him feel at peace

when something he wants is up on a high shelf he would tug on your sleeve and nod in that object's direction so you can give it to him

he'll whisper a small “thank you” and stands on his toes to give you a quick kiss

whenever he hears someone talk about your height difference and how he should be the tall one he'd glare at them until they get scared

believe me if looks could kill half the population would be d€ad lol

he'd protectively hold your hand and make you walk quicker

“don't listen to them they're just dumb and insecure, dumb fucks,”

lev would always be teasing you lmaooo istg he has a d€ath wish

“yn-chan!! wow you're so tall, you should be dating someone taller than you or at least the same height as you!” you can already sense kenma glaring holes into his back. “someone like me for example!”

kenma : “that's it, it's done for this mf”

and there is a chair flying right in lev's direction

even tho he likes being the small spoon he also loves to hold you and make you feel protected and loved

he'd hold you from behind, kiss your head and starts caressing your head

everytime he thinks you're finally asleep he'd say stuff such as “you're so beautiful, ” “i love you a lot,” “if lev tries to get close to you i'll throw his 6ft ass back to russia and make a polar bear eat him,”

kenma best boi <3

Miya Osamu

here we have another man whipped for you

the way he keeps bragging about you is ridiculous

you have him wrapped around your fingers missy

anyway, the moment he saw you it was like an evidence to him: he wanted you be his girlfriend!!!!!

he loves it when you were things that highlight your beautiful legs: shorts, skirts, dresses

ANYTHING that shows your long legs

he won't hesitate to totally DRAG people making comments about your height, either they're just comments or mean ones

he likes when you guys are cooking together or just when you're with him when he cooks for you

he'd ask you to grab things on a high shelf just to admire you getting that thing easily

if he ever sees you getting on your tippy toes he'll playfully tease you

“tsk, what a shortie you can't even reach for that? don't look at me like that you look like a gremlin, ”

uhm sir? you and your 6ft ass better stfu

then he has to jump to get that thing and you'll say something along the lines of “oh look at your short ass having to jump to get it,, i bet suna would've just had to stretch his arm to get it”

“what? NO BABE NOT SUNA WTF!”

he always throws random compliments out of the blue like ��look at my model of a gf,” “you're literally the baddest b on this earth babe how did i get so lucky?”

he's never afraid to loose you in the crowd cuz you always stand out for him

suna has a shit ton of videos of osamu fawning over you or talking about you while shoving his relationship with his perfect gf to atsumu

ngl atsumu is lowkey jealous but he'll never show it. “i like short girls anyway,” he pouts

suna : “see, funny you're saying that cuz that's not what you said the xx/yy at h:m, want to watch the video with me again?”

lol these mfs istg

153 notes · View notes

blookmallow · 3 years

Text

rating spirit halloween’s new animatronics for 2021

or at least what’s showing as New Arrivals on the site for me. looks like we got 15 new arrivals listed here and im HYPE about them so here we go

the caretaker

pretty standard reaper character with a Gravedigger theme to it. hes... fine? nothing about this particularly stands out to me, but i dont dislike it at all. i like his gravestone. would be good for a graveyard set. i guess ill give him... 6.5/10

mr. dark

at first glance he also just looks like a standard reaper character (or voldemort. he definitely looks like voldemort now that i think about it) but it turns out he SPRINGS UP RIDICULOUSLY TALL LIKE A CURSED WACKY INFLATABLE TUBE MAN and the spring motion in the video is actually really fucking fast so, while this isn’t a lot different from other jumpscare animatronics, i gotta give him credit bc i guarantee this would have scared the fuck outta me in person. according to the site he’s almost 9 feet tall at his full height

i expected him to jump out and scream but i did not expect. That. i feel like if you put him up on a stage or something to make him loom over people even more he’d be very menacing indeed. would also be really good if you put him behind something so you don’t see him until he's suddenly There

i like him, 8/10 springy spook man

click for more

grave grabber

pretty much just a zombie but he’s cute i like him. i like the green eyes. i dont know what it is about him in motion but the video makes him kind of endearing to me for some reason and i dont know why. 6/10

ophelia

at first for some reason i thought the monster’s name was ophelia but i think that’s supposed to be the name of the victim? i think the idea here is “girl haunted by a Nightmare” but the fact that the monster itself is so small and doesn’t actually have a body for the most part makes this unintentionally hilarious to me

like. it. it’s so small. it’s just a little shoulder demon. it’s so cute

psst. hey do we have any more cheetos

anyway i like how the girl’s eyes move back and forth but the sounds she makes are uncomfortable and she just looks so. stiff and solid and there doesn’t seem to be any movement at all other than her eyes and the monster peeking out so it’s just kind of weird to look at. it’s an interesting concept but the execution is just strange and unintentionally hilarious. 7/10 bc i still think its really funny

someone should buy this and mod it into chrona and ragnarok

harriet hustle

WE DID IT KIDS WE FINALLY GOT A FEMALE CLOWN ANIMATRONIC im so happy i could cry i wish my store had her set up i want to meet her

i love how they have her hanging upside down like this, it makes it so much more visually interesting than the figures that just kinda stand there looking spooky, even though she doesn’t really Do much (she just swings and her head moves around a little, just laughs, doesn’t have spoken lines)

i love her outfit i love her hair shes SO cute i love this little murder gremlin i love her i love her

im still waiting on spirit to give us a female clown figure that isn’t “creepy little girl” (ive commented before on how their only female figures tend to be either the Old Hag or the Creepy Little Girl and not a lot else) but i absolutely love this all the same 20/10

this one is fun too because we also have:

henry hustle

according to the description he’s actually harriet’s dad!! we have an evil clown father and daughter duo here and im LIVING for it

i dont think ive ever seen spirit do characters that are related to each other like this that’s so cute,

apparently his wife/harriet’s mother left them and ran off with the ringmaster. he’s a single father clown trying to raise his evil daughter clown and i support him wholeheartedly

there doesn’t seem to be any more animatronics on this storyline, we don’t have the mother here and the only ringmaster animatronic they have is the rotten ringmaster who was released previously, but i doubt he’s the homewrecker ringmaster in question. he Could Be. imagine if your wife left you for That. we dont even know if henry’s wife was also a clown or not. spirit halloween clown lore going on here

anyway i absolutely LOVE this clown, he does something INCREDIBLY STARTLING AND UNEXPECTED which i dont want to spoil for you. go watch his video and see what he does its great

my absolute favorite type of halloween animatronic is the “does something completely unexpected” category and this one is ALSO a clown and a GOOD clown at that

and he’s got this great vintage clown style i really like, i love scary clowns like this that actually look like they could believably be a real guy and not just some kind of mutant Clown Monster

and hes got cards!! card suit motif!!! i love it i love him this is a great clown 20/10 for him too

w. raith

we have this one at my local store and listen to me. im completely obsessed with this ghost

it’s pretty much just a ghost but it’s SUCH A GOOD ghost. especially in this photo here with proper spooky lighting and everything. i would absolutely LOVE to see this in a haunt attraction, it looks SO good even in bright store lighting. i feel like this under the right lights and in the right environment could look SO fuckign cool

the shredded rag look!!! the ethereal glow!! the weird jellyfishy movement!!! the classic wooOoO oO o o ooo noises!! this may perhaps be the ideal ghost. it is without flaw. a perfect specimen. i fuckign LOVE this ghost i want it so badly but i do not have the space or the money for this thing 15/10 w. raith my beloved. my true love. maybe one day

buzzsaw

at first i was slightly disappointed to see that this guy didn’t have an actual name, but then in the description apparently his name is Bill “Buzzsaw” Jackson and his backstory is he tried to be a wrestler but it didnt go very well so he grafted weapons in place of his hands. i guess. you know, to be better at wrestling. i dont really understand it and i definitely would not have gone with “disgraced former wrestler” as the concept for this guy

but anyway we have mr jackson at my store right now, he’s Big, i like him. he doesn’t really move very fast and doesn’t jump at you, he just kinda swings his saw around. for some reason he just seems friendly to me and i dont know why. makes me think of like an uncle dressed up for halloween rather than an actual murderer guy. i dont know i cant explain it but i like him hes my friend 8/10

wacky mole

this guy’s also at my store this year, i didn’t know his name was wacky mole fsdgjsdg

he’s listed as a new arrival, but i thought i remembered seeing him before, and the description says he’s a returning fan favorite, so. i guess this is a re-release

anyway pretty standard Scary Monster Clown. his teeth look like candy corn. i like it but i think they should just Be candy corn. i like his colorscheme and his silly giant buttons. light up eyes are always a nice touch. he doesnt really stand out but hes overall a pretty good clown. 7/10

grim

good ol’ classic skeleton. he’s pretty nicely modeled though and i highly recommend watching the video for this guy because he moves REALLY well for a spirit animatronic, he’s got a way wider range of movement than most of them do and his head moves really nicely. one of the benefits of a skeleton animatronic is you don’t have to deal with lip movement, so his jaw movements match with his lines a lot more realistically. i like the animated glowing eyes too, it really gives him a lot of personality. he’s really interesting to watch. like, it’s just a skeleton, but it’s a really really good skeleton, so, 8/10

BEETLEJUICE!!

i love love love franchise character animatronics and spirit has so much great beetlejuice stuff this seems well suited to them but looking at it............. hm. hm

he just looks so. stiff and his face comes across like, deer caught in the headlights to me. it Does Not look very natural but it looks slightly better in motion (he just swivels from side to side and says a few phrases but it somehow looks less. shellshocked when he’s moving)

maybe not the greatest execution but maybe he looks better in person and im still hype to see him so 8/10 regardless

night stalker

we have this guy at my store too, im still not really sure what’s going on with his arms (did he just rip loose from them and leave them behind? did someone do this to him? i dont know) but i love a good spooky scarecrow. love his Wiggles. hes a pretty good boy. 6.5/10

here we have another pennywise, it pretty much just pops out at you, but it’s still pretty good. i like the full size one they had before better, but this one’s slightly cheaper and would be easier to integrate into a haunted house attraction since he comes with a built in set piece. it looks good but doesn’t do much. 7.5/10 i guess

GHOSTFACE!!!!

FUCK YES I’VE BEEN WAITING FOR THIS

please. please spirit halloween set him up in my store so i can see him

anyway hes got kind of the same issue beetlejuice has where the figure just. looks kind of stiff, and he looks more like a spooky ghost decoration than like, A Person. he doesnt seem to have any lines or anything either, he just kinda pops out. but then again i guess whenever we see ghostface in person in the movies he doesn’t usually talk anyway. i dont really know how id make this better but it seems a little underwhelming somehow. still hype to see it though. 7/10 i guess

now if we could just get a jack torrance and a bela lugosi dracula id be content

i would LOVE to see Red from Us but i doubt they’d do one. my other horror beloved is norman bates but i know if they made one of him it’d just be him in a dress waving a knife around (not that i wouldn’t still be hype to see him, but, y’know) (anyway. tangent. moving on)

mr. howle

it’s. a werewolf. he howls. that’s....... about it

it’s a very nice looking werewolf, it’s a well designed figure and definitely looks very imposing, but it’s... just a werewolf. there’s not really anything particularly interesting or creative here. its a perfectly good werewolf. i dont have anything to say about this. 6.5/10

i also just am not a werewolf person so maybe someone out there who has a greater appreciation for werewolves might like him more

#spirit halloween #spirit 2021

47 notes · View notes

cottoncandyjester · 3 years

Text

Yandere ocs

So I figured I should show them off..and make stories for them cause this idea won't escape my mind no matter what. Please be gentle on them

All artwork is made on picrew I don't own any of it

As far as they go I'm accepting request, questions for the characters to answer and just questions about them and if you just wanna talk to them you can via ask

Warning: contains both sfw and nsfw headcanons..also these boys are yanderes so they are kinda toxic

➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖➖

Theodore,21

Gentle giant

I'm not kidding he's 6'3"

Half japanese half american

Is a college student studying to be a doctor

Just the sweetest sweetheart

He comes across as ditzy though

He is the mom of any friend group

Will spoil his darling with affection and love

Best hubby vibes for sure

Works himself to death to provide for you both

Will give you all the headpats

"you're so sweet, a perfect angel"

Got his scar from his childhood

Loves sweets

Likes to make you lunch shaped as animals

Wholesome boy

Will never hurt you

Can be strict about self care

But completely forgets about his own self-care

Works so hard to please you

Makes sure you are never sad or anything

As far as his yandere side

He isn't the type to get violent but is definitely the emotional manipulation type

Will make his darling seem absolutely insane

"sweetie, you shouldn't leave be logical here"

He will make his darling question their own decision making

In his eyes you are too fragile for the outside world

Listen to him, he is only trying to protect you

Doesn't like it when you fight him

Prefers a sweet darling but if you are a hothead he'll love you just as much...though your fighting and struggling will be a challenge

Will drug you if that's what it takes to keep you calm

"Just listen to me, okay? Why would you ever need to think or make your own choices when you have me?"

Definitely has a low sex drive more of a cuddler

But when he wants it he's such a gentleman about it

Will seduce you with a nice meal first before asking to make love

He will never force you to though cause he knows what that feels like

Can spend hours kissing you

Definitely has a kink for purity

If you act super innocent he just can't help but pull you into his lap and love up on you

Doesn't do any feral sex unless you've pushed him past his breaking point.

Is a switch so if you want to top him he'll allow it but he is far more comfortable being the dom

Hikaru, 21

Young and famous model

Full japanese

Comes from a family full of actors

Flamboyant as hell will actually crossdress if he wants to cause fuck gender roles

Monster Dick energy

He comes across as loud and hyper

Seems super sweet and bubbly

Loves to dress up his darling in cute clothes and spoil them when they are well behaved

"look at my adorable baby! Oh you're such a cutie!"

Is a strawberry milk boba drinker(*cough* like me *cough*)

Will take you on shopping dates if you are good

Is the type to flaunt his credit cards

Is actually a degrading king

He isn't the nicest yandere

Will kill an entire army if he has to

Will degrade the absolute hell out of his darling to break your self esteem and self worth

"baby, who else will want you? Honestly darling do you think anyone else actually cares about someone as worthless as you?"

Kinky as fuck

Has a bad temper

Don't piss him off or he will hurt you

"why would you ever need to leave! The only one who cares about you is me! Everyone else will just use you and throw you away!"

Is the type to try and make his darling as clingy as possible

Wants a housewife type darling no matter the gender

Wants to come home to an obedient lover ready to give him a kiss, dinner, and a BJ

Always wants to love up on you and have you in his arms

Will be grouchy if he sees you getting too confident in your looks

He fears that if you have too much self confidence you're going to leave him

"what are you wearing? It's absolutely hideous. Hmm? I bought that? Huh you must have looked cute in it then but right now you kinda look like a pig"

All in all he's a brat

If you try and dom him he will absolutely fight back and it will lead to some feral sex

Axis, 18

100% blind

full japanese

Despite not being able to see he doesn't need a cane or anything

Though he likes it when you offer to hold his hand in public

Works at home as an artist

Is really good at it and had some of his work in museums

Like spicy foods

Dumbass

Like super dumb

"hey, babe is tomato sauce a smoothie? Or maybe it's like jelly..but made out of like tomatoes"

Is basically a puppy

Can't keep his hands off you

Is always kissing and loving you

Praise giving king

Has hightened senses so he definitely remembers your smell and how you walk

Always has to be with you

Never leave

Never

He can't handle it

Is the exact opposite of hikaru

Makes it seem like he will actually die without you

"don't leave! Please! I'm helpless without you! [Y/n]! Don't leave me by myself!"

Will make you quit your job

Will make you move in with him

Acts pathetic when you even mention leaving

Hugs your leg and sobs hard

Has fake fallen many times to get you to think he truly is helpless without you

Will have a screaming tantrum if you walk out the door

Just painful screams and sobs while he claws his own face and body out of absolute insanity

Will keep doing that until you come back to him

"s-see, I'm helpless without you. I'll die without you, I need you so please..stay with me forever"

As far as sex..

He is definitely cries during it

Loves you so much that he is just sobbing while fucking you cause you feel so good and he loves you and-

Is like a dog in heat

Loves just feeling all over your body

Sex with him usually lasts many rounds and involves him humping you to death while he sobs and drools all over you

Will sub for you if you want him to

Will honestly do anything you want as long as you are touching him

Prince, 24

Horny 24/7

Full Korean but moved to Japan shortly after birth

Gained his name out of a magazine..thanks mom and dad

Works as a bartender

Usually a one night stand kind of guy but with you it's different

Loves sloppy kisses and cuddles

Bad boy

Aka he pretends to be a bad boy but is actually a softie who loves dogs and long walks on the beach

Goofy as hell

Loves to make you laugh

He isn't used to having a real relationship so be easy on him

Doesn't like restricting you and lets you do basically anything you want

Of course you belong to him though so no doing crazy things

Like to take you to work with him and gives you free drinks

Definitely has a fan girl club

The word sex escapes his mouth every three seconds

Sex with him is usually amazing

He's knows exactly what he's doing

As long as you love him it's all good

The moment you try to break up with him or distance yourself he loses it

"huh? Huh huh huh huh?! You're kidding yeah?! Stop joking around"

Gets hella paranoid and locks you in his house while pacing around not sure what to do

Will kill for you like absolutely will slaughter someone if they get too close to you

He changes so dramatically it's hard to see him as the same laid back flirty guy

He gets tense and panicked

"you can't leave okay?! Don't even try to ask!"

Will start to calm down if he sees you are accepting your fate

Thinks sex will solve his problems

"you just need to see how much of a man I am yeah?! Then you'll stay right?! Of course you will!"

Spirals out of control

You belong to him in his eyes so you can't ever leave

Clearly has abandonment issues

Will try to do whatever he can to make you happy though

Want it and he will get it

just stay with him and he will be okay

Will try and do whatever he can to make you just as obsessed with him as he is for you

Clearly doesn't have experience in loving someone

He's not used to wanting someone to stay with him so he takes drastic measures to assure you never leave

Even tries getting you pregnant or making you disabled to make you make no choice but to stay

Yuki, 21

Not picking favorites buuut-

Sleepy boy

Oddly enough is super athletic and strong..despite not working out

Half japanese half american

Responds with sounds or very few words

Forked tongue- not given to him by choice

Owns a tattoo and piercing shop

Despite this he doesn't own any tattoos

Loves to put his head on your lap or stomach

Prefers chubbier lovers but honestly will love you regardless

Will sleep the entire day without eating if you let him

Doesn't like speaking but if he has to he will

Hates any sort of loud noise, has sensitive senses

Is pretty lazy but if he has to do it he will.. though he will make random grunts and grumbles the entire time while pouting

More of a cat than a person

Quite moody

Only you're allowed to touch him

Anyone else who does he'll glare at and act cold towards

Likes to hug you from behind and lean against you no matter your height

If you're shorter than him expect him to put his chin on your head

If you are taller he's nuzzling his face in your back and taking in your smell

Can't cook to save his life

Almost burnt the house down cause he fell asleep while cooking

It's fine cause he eats microwave dinners and snacks from the convience store

Low sex drive

The king of sleepy sex

Usually all sex with him is slow,teasing and just filled with sleepy praise and compliments

Unless he's jealous or stressed then it's just rough fucking

Doesn't really act like a yandere at all.. buuut-

Honestly thought you two were dating this whole time

What do you mean you two aren't a couple

No no sweetheart you two were dating the moment he laid eyes on you

If you try to break this fantasy he will shut it down

"we're dating."

Try and say no and he will not be able to handle it

All his delusions keep him from breaking down but if you absolutely say that you two aren't dating he will snap

"stop talking, we are dating. So stop lying"

Doesn't like the thought of kidnapping but he will do it if he must

Will even work from home if he has to

He isn't really a violent type so he won't kill for you but he will absolutely spread lies and use blackmail to get what he wants

All your friends and family think that you eloped with him and never want to see them again

It's better for you both if you just play along with his games

Will definitely tattoo his name on you

He won't ever gag you cause he likes to hear your voice but if you try to scream he honestly won't know what to do

The loudness makes him tear up and he just covers your mouth with your hands begging you to stop

"It hurt. Too Loud. Please."

He just wants to love you he doesn't see what he's doing wrong

He just wants to be with you forever so be good and don't fight him

Is definitely the stalker and stealing clothes type

Will make a nest of all your things that smell like you and he'll just lay in it being in absolute peace

Has scared any and all potential lovers away

Mostly through blackmail

He is easily jealous but pretends not to be

As soon as you walk into the house he is there to smell you to see if you smell different

If you do you are taking a shower with him immediately

If not then yay cool cuddles and kisses

#yandere imagines #yandere ocs #yandere #yandere asks #oc x reader

223 notes · View notes

whaleofatjme1920 · 2 years

Note

Eeeee- Hello :) I've seen that your matchup event has been going on a while, and I've finally managed to get the guts to make a request. My apologies if its rather short. I'd like to request a Creepypasta/Marble Hornets matchup :')

I am a 18 year old female, Libra. I have brown hair, Hazel eyes and freckles. I'm rather short- being 5"6 (compared to family-)

My hobbies would be Arts, reading, writing- you can sometimes find me outside looking for mushrooms and cool pebbles. Listening to music 24/7 happens a lot, as well as clay models.

Personality wise, I would say I'm rather level-headed, but that turns to goblin behavior once you know me. From a friend's perspective, I am outgoing, understanding, comical, and "drink enough coffee to kill an entire school of Victorian Children."

I don't talk that much, really- only when it's proving a point in an argument or when talking about a hyperfixation. Speaking of which, you can find me obsessing over Helluva Boss, Hazbin Hotel, Markiplier, Slashers, Deltarune, Mythology and more. Fantasy, mostly.

Science, Biology, Geography- those are all really fun subjects, along with Genetics.

I can be either very clingy, or dissociate, all of that depending on random. Clingy times are often expressed in physical touch, and words of affirmation. Dissociation is often just going to my room, not be in able to handle people because of oversensitiveness. They don't last long, however.

Aaaaaand thats it! Thank you so much for opening the event!

Your matchup is... Hoodie!

[Disclaimer, if you're coming from the tags, this is part of a special event I am holding from November 17th to the 21st where I am accepting matchups from all fandoms I currently write for. Feel free to check out my 1K celebration masterlist here for rules during the window this event is open! If it's past the 21st midnight USA central time, do NOT send me a matchup. I will have to politely turn you down. Sorry </3]

In General

It's your areas of interest that did it.

Things He Likes About You

I think Brian really, really loves your hazel eyes. They mirror his but they're so much more beautiful in his opinion. Also you're 5'6 which is a good height for him! He's 6'2, the way I write him. All of your hobbies line up with him pretty well. Likes that you're level headed and only reveal the chaotic nature later. Makes things exciting for him lmfao. Tell him about your interests please - which leads me to

You Two as a Couple

I saw science, bio, geo, and immediately thought of Brian for you because I think he's in love with the natural world. He's a bit of a forager so like hey. The two of you need to talk about plants, go on walks together. He wants to go on adventures with you too because sometimes, he just can't sit still. He's a comical, sunshiny guy. (I write Hoodie and Brian as different entities!) He's good in like, performance art. He likes curling up with a good book too every now and then as well. I can see the two of you going to a library with a café, choosing some good books and spending the afternoon in each other's company. Brian talks,,,, a good enough amount. loves hearing about your hyperfixations though!! Chances are he's into them as well. He loves mythology especially, gotta get him into Vivziepop's works though - I think he'd like the character designs, like Stolas, Blitzo, etc. Brian is physically affectionate and verbally affectionate, you get the best of both worlds here. He's a super sweet lover, and will absolutely shower you in smooches. He worries when you isolate, but as long as you recharge or get the time you need, he's okay. I feel the two of you are perfect tbh.

Closing Thoughts/Other Things

Hi love bug, it's nothing! Thanks for sending this in and kudos to you for having the courage to do so! It's always a little odd putting yourself out there to be,,,, evaluated,,, but you did it and I'm super proud of you! Hope you enjoyed <3

Also also, what'd you think about the newest ep of Helluva Boss?? Ngl, my heart hurts. Stan Millie and Moxxie though.

#creepypasta matchup #creepypasta x reader #creepypasta hoodie #hoodie x reader #hoodie headcanon #brian thomas headcanon #brian thomas x reader

16 notes · View notes

neo-princess · 3 years

Note

Hi, bby! I thought it'd be fun if you did nct as high school students! Would you be interested in doing it?

Oooou this would be so fun! Thank you for the request!

⇢ TAEIL༊*·˚

Taeil would be pretty nerdy I think. He’d stick to himself and hang around one or two people. I think he’d be very smart, and a bit clumsy. He’d get good grades, and be involved in smart kid clubs.

⇢ JOHNNY༊*·˚

Johnny would be the skater. Probably the senior that eveyone thinks is cool. He’d be friends with the entire school. Never a teachers pet, but always the teacher favorite. Buys people snacks and stuff, just to flex the money he has tbh.

⇢ TAEYONG༊*·˚

Taeyong would be popular, but only cause girls really thought he was hot. But he’d be super smart, he’d tutor after school if anyone wanted help. And he’d always help with homework or something. Would take the girl that people bully to the prom, just to see her happy.

⇢ YUTA༊*·˚

Definitely skips school all the time. He might be here for some periods, might just walk out of class. He never does his homework...of course. Cheats a lot, detention king. Laughs at everything. But, he would be the schools star soccer player.

⇢ KUN༊*·˚

Definitely a teachers pet. Always doing his work, gets A+ all the time. That one who freaks out just cause they got a B. Tells people to be quiet, or stop talking. Never breaks a rule, gives me hall monitor vibes. Class president?

⇢ DOYOUNG༊*·˚

Always raised his hand, always knows the right answer. Does the most for class projects, and always wants to do all the work though he’ll complain about it later. Always wants to pass out the papers, and always asks about his grades.

⇢ TEN༊*·˚

Has all the hunnies. Girls literally do anything for him. Lines of people asking to go to prom with him. Flirts with the teachers to attempt to get better grades on tests.

⇢ JAEHYUN༊*·˚

Pretty much everyone’s crush, apparently everyone is his girlfriend. Locker full of Valentine’s Day cards. He doesn’t prompose to them, girls prompose to him. Doesn’t hang around too many people. Basket ball player! Pretty much the whole school are his cheerleaders.

⇢ WINWIN༊*·˚

Always wearing his headphones, never listening to anyone. Sleeps in class all of the time. Never talks to anyone. He really is just there to be honest. Doesn’t know how to react when someone has a crush on him. Doesn’t like female attention, it bothers him.

⇢ JUNGWOO༊*·˚

A class clown. Always making people laugh, gets sent to the office a few times. Never gets in trouble though, cause who could punish that cutie. Never eats the school lunch, he eats his own. Very extra with presentations.

⇢ LUCAS༊*·˚

Another heart throb. Goofy jock, basketball I assume. Or football. Never studies for the tests, or forgets there was even a test in the first place. Always the loudest person in the class room. Eveyone wants him on their team for games where height is an advantage.

⇢ MARK༊*·˚

He never knows what’s going on, he really just doesn’t want to be there. Always talks about how bad the school lunch is, yet he always eats it up. Gets hit with the dodge ball first everytime. Definitely awkward around his crush. Teachers love him, he’s kind of a model student. Perfect attendance.

⇢ XIAOJUN ༊*·˚

Always arguing about his grades with the teachers. Late to school 70% of the time. Disinterested. Always passes some how, when he barely does his homework. Goes to prom alone, or doesn’t go at all. Over it.

⇢ HENDERY༊*·˚

Always on his phone, he never puts it away. How many detentions will the man get until he-. The type to write “Ben Dover” on his test. Always getting sent out into the hall. Never wants to participate in gym, he’d rather walk. Takes the bathroom pass and is really just roaming the halls.

⇢ RENJUN༊*·˚

Applying to so many collages. Never smiled in picture day photos. Has a hustle of giving people answers to homework for $25 per page. Usually super quiet and does his work. Valedictorian.

⇢ JENO༊*·˚

Does sports all school year. Pretty good at his school work. At least a straight B student. Always the teacher’s favorite. That one who always gets good phone calls home. Volunteers a lot to help out around the school.

⇢ HAECHAN༊*·˚

Annoying as hell. Paper airplanes and spit balls. Detention prince. Everyone in the office knows him by name. Moans and makes fart noises in class. Never does his homework, very loud.

⇢ JAEMIN༊*·˚

Flirts with everyone in the school. Pretends that he doesn’t know what he’s doing to have someone help him get the answers. Skips class a lot. Always saying how he wants to go home. Never returns library books on time.

⇢ YANGYANG༊*·˚

Also very annoying. Never stops talking, and talks about. Laughs at everything. Does his homies it’s being collected. Signs his own detention letters. Goes around collecting chocolate milks at lunch. Always wants to be a captain during gym. Purposely loud to bother people.

⇢ SUNGCHAN༊*·˚

Child he really is just sitting here. People don’t even remember he goes to the school. He gives me main character vibes. Just that one tall guy, who’s just tall. Probably a band kid.

⇢ SHOTARO༊*·˚

Everyone loves him. Pretty much the school sweetheart. He’s very polite and always raises his hand. The one that brings the teachers Christmas presents. Actually uses study hall to study.

⇢ CHENLE༊*·˚

Never listening, headphones in all the time. You never see this man do homework, yet somehow he always passes. You can hear his laugh from a mile away. Running in the halls. Tries to stay in the locker rooms, so he dies have to do gym.

⇢ JISUNG༊*·˚

Teacher always has to ask him to speak up when reading. Always forgetting something in his locker. Only likes the strawberry milk at lunch. Has his mom pack his lunch. Never raises his hand, but he always knows the answer.

78 notes · View notes

ceruleanmusings · 3 years

Text

First and Foremost

Fandom: Big Time Rush Pairing: James Diamond x Mickey Mason (OC) Word Count: 5.7k Summary: Mickey goes to cheer James up after a brutal verbal beating by Gustavo. Contents: mild flirting, teasing, show-standard humor, sadness Tag: @mystic-scripture @foxesandmagic @witchofinterest @perhapspearl @raging-violets @lareiism @ocfairygodmother @ocappreciationtag

The bright orange vinyl began sticking to his cheek, trapping his heavy sighs against his warm skin but James didn’t care. Why should he care? It wasn’t as if he had a modeling gig to run off to so the inevitable red line pressing into his cheek could stay. It wasn’t as if he had an acting gig to prepare for so he could continue to lay flopped on the couch, feet dangling off the edge, wrinkling his clothes. It wasn’t as if he had a solo moment in a song to rehearse for so he could let his throat roll an agonized vocalization around in his chest.

He'd left Rocque Records hours ago and yet he still heard Gustavo’s shouts echoing in his head: “Stop smiling like that, I hate it!”, “A garbage disposal has better timing than you!”, “I could replace you with a mop and it wouldn’t make any difference!”, and his favorite, “Okay, do it again, but this time, SING ACTUAL NOTES!”

Clearly, Gustavo was wrong. …He had way better hair than a mop so, actually, it would make a difference!

James uttered another body wrenching sigh.

It just wasn’t fair. He spent so much time rehearsing, getting his vocals warmed up, loosening his muscles to better execute dance moves. He put his all into being a pop star! Okay, sometimes he could get distracted by the lights and the glitz and glamor but who wouldn’t? Pretty people wanted to dress him, sculpt his hair, perfect his image (not that they had to do much on that front), have them joint their ranks, put him in the spotlight where he belonged. Why was it a bad thing? When it came down to it, he wanted this. He always wanted this!

Kendall, Carlos, and Logan didn’t get it. He loved his buds, but that didn’t mean he didn’t see their eye rolls, hear their scoffs, or feel their dismissive aside glances when he talked about a potential modelling job or how he was, in fact, the best person to lead a song (or sing the whole thing, why split hairs?), or when he shared his dream of buying a house to turn it into a personal salon/display museum for his bandanas. (It makes sense to keep it all in one place!)

All he was trying to do was make his dreams a reality. It wasn’t as if he was pushing his buds off a cliff to get there. It’d happen eventually. It was inevitable. (The recognition, not the cliff-pushing.) He had the face, he had the voice, he had the talent, he had the body, he had the face. He was born for this life. He was meant to be doing this!

But no one else seemed to notice.

Groaning, James turned onto his side, tucked his arm beneath his head and curled his knees up to his chest. If Katie were around, she’d point and laugh at him, maybe say he was being a big baby or some other phrase with big words he didn’t understand. Thankfully she, the guys, and Mama Knight were off at an LA Kings game. He’d been looking forward to the game for weeks but going didn’t appeal to him after the day he had. He’d taken enough hits to watch other people get tossed around like a ragdoll.

Sometime later he heard the distinct sound of someone climbing the stairs to get to the swirly slide entrance and yet he still didn’t move. Instead, he watched dust motes float and around the shafts of gold light seeping in through the blinds.

“Hey, it’s just me.” Ordinarily James would’ve jumped up at the sound of Mickey’s voice, double-checking his reflection in his lucky pocket mirror to ensure he was presentable and his muscles were at their peak. He couldn’t let her see him at anything other than his best. He was James Diamond! He didn’t do mediocre! This time, though, he stayed still, listening as she came down the swirly slide, the rubber on her docs tapping against the ground on her dismount. It was the only time she didn’t knock before entering. The door was always open, and people came and went as they pleased, but not Mickey. She made sure to knock every time. It was polite, she explained, looking at them all as if they’d been raised by wolves.

He mentally followed her footsteps—always with that cute little bounce to it—around the back of the couch heading to the island until she came into view. She dressed comfortably as always: dread locks pulled back into a half updo with gold rings and cuffs, her favorite cropped white *NSYNC hoodie depicting the image of their first album cover, dark skinny jeans, pale blue docs and a makeup-free face. She never wore makeup except for occasions where it called for it such as appearances, interviews, and photoshoots. James never thought she needed it.

“I’m just picking up my Tupp…er…ware…” He watched as Mickey’s eyebrows collided and she leaned to the side, peering at him as if she didn’t recognize him on the couch. He didn’t blame her; he was sure he wouldn’t recognize himself if he could see himself right now. “James? Are you okay?” she asked, taking a few steps closer, tucking a lock behind her ear.

James’ lips pushed out another sigh. “I’m sad,” he replied. No sense in hiding the obvious. His lower lip already dropped to a pout upon uttering the words and he couldn’t fight the wave washing over him, dragging his mood further (if that were possible).

Shoving her hands into the front of her pockets she approached. “’Cause of Gustavo?”

“Yeah.”

“And?”

He blinked. “That’s it.”

Her eyebrow arched. “No it’s not. I can see it all over your pretty face.” Sliding a hand out her pocket, she wiggled a pointed finger at him, motioning in circles around his face.

“Hmph. At least you think it’s pretty,” he mumbled.

She sat on the floor in front of the couch, turning her knees to the side, propping her elbow on the cushion and her cheek on her fist while turning to him. He looked back at her, taking in her freckle dotted nose. Her dark eyes squinted for a moment, mimicking the small pull to her mouth until they both relaxed. “What’s up? Besides the Gustavo part. I was wearing soundproof headphones while recording my bass lines today—I still heard him through it. And while that sucked, I know that’s not the only issue.”

“Maybe I just wanted to be alone.”

“James, you can’t go an elevator ride without needing someone to talk to.” Her mouth quirked in the corner, bolstering the tease to her words. He managed a small smile. “Speaking of which. Where are the guys?”

“They went to a Kings game.”

“Are you meeting them there?”

“I didn’t want to go.”

Her eyes widened, dark brown lighting to reflect her surprise. “You didn’t want to go to a King’s game?”

James twisted his mouth to the side, shrugging. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to go. Of course he wanted to go. Everything about hockey appealed to him: the crisp air filling his lungs, the crackling excitement plucking his energized nerves, the sharp snap of wood smacking against rubber, the scuffing of sharp blades on the ice, the cold adding a natural blush to his cheeks, the hot girls dressed in jerseys, the warm nacho cheese sliding down his throat, the way the bright lights lit him on his good side (both of them). But, even with the Kings and Ducks matchup, it wasn’t enough to get him off the couch.

“Well, what about hanging by the pool? It’s Golden Hour.” She reached out and poked his cheek. “Your favorite time of day.”

That was true. Nothing made his selfies better than the effect of a filter without actually having to use one. He thought about it for a second, shook his head, and sighed again. “I don’t feel like it.”

“Wow.” Her lashes fluttered due to her rapid blinking. A hum sounded behind her turned down mouth and she reached out, squeezing his knee. He felt a tug somewhere in the pit of his stomach at her touch, like a cork easing its way out of a bottle. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“No.” Silence. Then: “It just doesn’t make sense!” And it all came pouring out, the frustrations and grievances. Not just from that day but from the past year and a half, from the start of it all. How they didn’t want him, they wanted Kendall. How no matter how hard he tried it wasn’t good enough. How, even though he had the talent, and knew it in his bones, it didn’t match the “fire” they looked for. How he was dragged along to form a group in a business he’d always dreamed of being in. How he was constantly shuttled back and forth between his parents, passed along like a discarded accessory. How he was overlooked time and time again (which he still wasn’t even sure how that was possible with his height and face and style.) How he was dismissed and taken as being “dramatic” when he opted not to go to the Kings game.

It was that feeling, the want—or lack thereof—which kept him glued to the couch. It seemed everyone could direct it towards anyone and anything else but him. No one chose him. No one wanted him.

The entire time he spoke Mickey stayed quiet save for the occasional hums to accompany her head nods. By the end she offered up a clicking tsk and a welcomed, “Aww, dude, I’m sorry you had to deal with all that.” She looked at him and he looked right back, wondering for a minute if they were having some sort of staring contest until he got cross-eyed and had to blink. Her shoulders shook with a quiet laugh, lips curling upwards in the corners. Silence stretched between them. James’s eyes widened slightly, taking on a pointed look.

“Is that it?” James finally prompted.

“Is what it?”

“Is that all you have to say?”

“…Yeah.”

“You’re not going to tell me I’m being dramatic? You’re not going to give me some advice? You’re not going to give me some pep talk?”

Mickey snorted. “And what kind of advice could I give you? To just get over it?” James nodded rapidly. “You’re upset. Telling you to get over it won’t change that. Besides, I get it.”

“You do?”

“That feeling you have to work twice as hard just to get the recognition you feel you rightfully deserve only to be overlooked?” She let out a little bitter laugh, twisting the end of one of her dreads around her finger. “Yeah. I know that feeling a little too well; life made sure of it.” A second later her eyes widened and then squinted, as if seeing something in the distance. Her eyebrows furrowed and she clicked her tongue. In a flash, she got off the floor and James watched her make quick strides to the door, opening it with a flourish only to pull it shut behind her. He stared at the swinging jackets hanging off the key shaped holder, an incredulous expression popping onto his face.

“Well thanks for the talk, Mickey! I feel so much better!” James called out to the closed door. He rolled onto his back, unfurling his legs, staring up at the tall ceiling. Geeze, first Gustavo, then his buds, and now Mickey. He thought people cared about him but clearly he was wrong! Why did he even like her in the first place?

A knock sounded on the door. Uncurling himself, James sat up, head tilting in curiosity. A second later the door opened, and a sheepish Mickey stepped through it. “Forgot, I don’t need to knock for myself,” she muttered, rubbing her palms down the legs of her jeans.

Nevermind, she came back. He liked her again.

She drummed her fingers against her thighs and then headed for the kitchen. “I’m thirsty. Do you want a juice box?”

James’s head bobbed from side to side. Now that his chest didn’t feel as if it would cave in, it felt “Yeah, I could go for one.” She pulled one from the fridge and tossed it to him. He easily caught it with one hand as he swung his legs down from the couch, settling on the middle cushion facing the tv. He popped off the straw and stabbed it through the foil-covered hole on top. He didn’t pretend it was Gustavo’s face beneath the straw. Not at all. He took a long pull of the watermelon flavored drink and swallowed. It helped, but only a little.

He watched as Mickey closed the refrigerator and started opening and closing a few cabinets. She pulled a few bowls out of one and set them on the counter and then pulled open a few drawers, taking out measuring cups and spoons and knives.

“What are you doing?” he asked.

“Well, there’s really no point in bringing back Tupperware that’s empty is there?” She asked, eyebrows lifting. “It’s downright blasphemy.”

His stomach quivered at that. Food? She was making food? As much as a small part of him still wanted nachos from the Staples Center, he could trade it for whatever she made. If magic existed, she possessed it with how good her food turned out. Not that Mama Knight’s wasn’t a great cook herself, nothing beat her cheesy potato soup or Fishstick Fridays or her amazing snickerdoodles, Mickey just tended to make more on the dessert side. And while his body was a temple and he treated it right, sometimes the temple wanted a big fat slice of pie. To please the Gods. (Him, James was the God. No matter how much Logan disagreed, the peasant).

“What are you making? Can I have some?”

“It’s a surprise but sure. It’s gonna take me some time, though.”

James reeled in his pout and protest, as much as he hated having to wait history showed it tended to be worth it. Shifting off the couch, he opened the cabinet beneath the tv and looked at the array of DVDs staring back at him. He bypassed his usual go-tos—Die Hard, Bring it On, the Entourage series, Fast and Furious, Step Brothers, Zoolander, Marley & Me—stopping at the smaller cases on the end, holding white discs with Mama Knight’s handwriting scrawled over the surface depicting dates from a few years back. James shuffled through the cases as if they were a deck of cards, stopping on one he remembered from freshman year, near the end of the season.

The Meadowlark High Coyotes were 7-9; they needed to win at least four more games to make it to the playoffs before their season was cut short. They were down by three points at 4-6 against Willow Grove High’s Rams with ten minutes left. Kendall had been benched for fighting after getting his face smashed into the plexiglass on a breakaway (it was a cheap hit). Carlos was ejected for leaving goal to bum rush the player who executed the hit, trying to pants him. And Logan sat on the bench, his nose buried in his roster book, scribbling away, making notes for the coach to review after the game. That left him the lone wingman to turn the tide on a penalty shot and any scoring chance he obtained afterwards. Yes there was another wingman, but he may as well not have been on the ice with James taking the lead.

He popped it into the DVD player and fell back into the memory of the day, sank into the swell of cheers, the shrill whistles, the thudding beat of his heart in his ears, the rush as he glided over the ice, carrying the puck to the goal shot after shot after shot. And the chanting, oh the chanting, it may as well have been tattooed on his heart: Dia-mond, Dia-mond, Dia-mond! Only his stick slapping against the puck broke the cheering. Crack! Crack! Crack! James rushed the goal and sent the puck sailing through the air, nestling in the top right and left corners of the net, lighting the lamp. The crowd went wild. His team rushed the ice, lifting him up in the air as sirens and whistles went off.

James paused on the zoom on his face, the light in his eyes and the flush on his cheeks. Someone had yanked off his helmet so they could ruffle his sweaty hair, which still looked good compared to the others, thank you very much. (Helmet hair was not something he ever had to combat, he made sure of it.)

They won. They chose him and he won. When he was picked, they all succeeded. That was the point.

He scanned backwards, watching the play in reverse, pressed play, and watched their victory unfold. Again. And again. And again. Forward, back, forward, back. Shoot, score, repeat. Every watch brought back another shot of exhilaration, another round of satisfaction pulsing through his veins. Gustavo had drained that feeling right out of him.

“What’re you watching?” Mickey’s head hung next to his as she leaned over the back of the couch. “Is that you? Oh, you were all so teeny!”

James pouted. He wasn’t teeny. Yeah, he was a couple years younger than now and had a bit of a rounder face but all the days playing hockey he’d shed his childhood weight. And he’d hit his growth spurt, so he was already taller than the guys in their class. Despite the slight sting of the comment, he answered, “Freshman year hockey game. Against our rivals, the Rams.”

“Did you win?”

James scoffed. “Of course we did!” Big Time Rush didn’t lose. Once they all joined the team, they were a force to be reckoned with. “All thanks to me, even. Kendall and the guys were benched for ‘unsportsmanlike behavior’.�� His finger quotes stabbed the air as he rolled his eyes.

“Why? What’d they do?”

“Watch.” Within a few seconds the scene unfolded again: Kendall on a breakaway, for all intents and purposes prime for a good shot. Then someone from the other team bashed into him, clearly committing a foul. Kendall bounced off the plexiglass as sharp whistles and booing jeers filled the air. Cheeks red, either due to the cold or anger, Kendall threw down his stick and gloves, whipped off his helmet, and charged for a Ram. He managed a hit on one before two Rams came up, grabbed him, threw him into the plexiglass again, and squished his face against it, dragging it from side to side. Mickey sucked a hissing breath in between her teeth, face scrunching up to a look of pain.

“That looked like it hurt.”

“Hurt worse when the guy wasn’t even called for it—the refs were from their town,” James explained at the look of disbelief crossing her face. “But I get the penalty shot and score more goals to clinch the win for us.”

“Bet that felt good.”

He shrugged. Good wasn’t the right word. Amazing wasn’t the right word. He didn’t think a word existed to properly encompass how that day felt. He paused the video and scanned it backwards again, his thumb hovering over the play button as his eyes took in their reflections on the tv screen. Namely how close she leaned to his head. Turning to her, he eyed her close-up profile. “If you wanted to kiss me, you could just say so,” James said with a flirtatious smile. Motioning to her with the remote he added, “You don’t have to come up with an excuse to get close.”

Her head tilted to the side, her studying him this time. “Would it make you feel better?”

He blinked. Uh…what? That wasn’t what she was supposed to say. That wasn’t how things went with them. He’d flirt, she’d rebuff him, he’d try again later. That’s how their friendship worked, among both agreeing blue was, in fact, a flavor (suck it, Logan!), her helping him with English homework while he helped her with vocal work, taking trips to the farmer’s market for fresh ingredients (her for her cooking, him for his organic, clean, homemade facial mask), and splitting the s’mores skillet at Fun Burger on his cheat day. Not that he didn’t like this turn of events, he wasn’t stupid. Okay, so he wasn’t the brightest bulb in the spotlight, but he wasn’t that stupid.

Still, he shook his head and pinched his arm to be sure this wasn’t some sort of dream, that she had, in fact, asked if kissing him would make him feel better. His fingers pressed into his skin and a pinch of pain shot up his arm. His eyes widened. He was definitely awake!

“Uh…sure?” He mentally admonished himself, hearing how unsure he sounded. Who talked like that? Not him, that’s for sure. He was much cooler than that. He cleared his throat, deepened his voice, turned his eyes to smolder, and said, “I mean, yeah. We could give it a shot.”

“Okay, close your eyes.”

He did as he was told, eyes slamming shut. James’ chest swelled and relaxed as he took in and let out a long breath. Not that he was nervous. He’d kissed plenty of girls before. Hell, once he’d kissed three girls in a half hour (thank you spin the bottle!) So this was nothing to worry about. No big deal. It’s just Mickey. Just the girl he’d been into for the past year. His palms sweating had nothing to do with it, that happened sometimes. Not a lot. Okay, never. Not when it came to kissing girls. So it had to be some sort of new medical condition he’d need to get looked at. Along with the shaking. And his heart thudding against his chest. He made a mental note to get that looked at too.

He felt her hovering in front of him, close enough for that strange sensation to itch and curl beneath his skin, anticipation cracking like a livewire. A strong swoop lurched in his stomach when she asked “Ready?”, so close he smelled something sweet on her breath. Vanilla? A lock of her hair brushed against the side of his face, sending a shot of something pleasant down his spine.

He nodded, swiping his tongue against his bottom lip. (Not too wet, not too dry. Couldn’t have her thinking his lips were like sandpaper.) Breath? He thought back. Last thing he ate were a few ants-on-a-log back at the studio. Peanut Butter wasn’t what he’d go with, but it would do in a pinch.

Okay. You’re James Diamond! You’re in a world-famous band! You have great hair! You have great style! You have great lips! They’re perfectly pouty and pink and fantastic. It’s just a kiss. You can do this. Annnd….go!

James leaned forward, pursing his lips. Something touched his lips. His eyebrows lowered. Huh, her lips were a lot colder than he’d imagined. Just as smooth, though. And a little…pointy? What? Before he could react, something gave way and shot between his teeth, heading to the back of his throat. He coughed, the object shooting forward, bouncing on his tongue.

His eyes popped open, granting him the sight of Mickey and her shit-eating grin. His tongue rolled the object around in his mouth, smooth on all sides except for one point. A rush of chocolate swarmed his taste buds. A Hersehey’s kiss. He blinked, staring up at her.

“Did the Earth move for ya, honey?” she asked sweetly, her soft southern accent igniting the teasing sparkle in her eyes.

“Very funny,” James grumbled, chewing the cold bit of chocolate into small pieces. It melted fast on his tongue. Pushing a hand through his hair, he flopped back against the couch, doing his best to avoid her gaze. But that smile, so bright and satisfied, drew him back in and he found his frown lifting upwards.

Still grinning, she dropped down on the couch next to him. He noticed the plate in her hands, the surface covered with an array of purple swirls and designs resting atop white sponge dotted with color.

Funfetti cupcakes. His favorite.

She was forgiven.

------

“She moves left, she moves right, she goes left again-oh! Fake out! She’s on a breakaway! There’s no one standing between her and the net! Will she make it?” With a lunge, Mickey slapped a pretzel rod against the Oreo in the middle of the table. James dropped to his knees, opening his mouth in time for the cookie to slide against the smooth surface, coast past his teeth, and land on his tongue. Goal! “She does! She scores! And the Missles are the table hockey champions of the world!” Throwing her arms into the air, Mickey danced a little victory jig, chomping the pretzel rod in her hand as if putting an exclamation point at the end of a sentence.

Chuckling, James chewed the Oreo. Ordinarily he would already be mentally preparing his routine at the gym the next day to counteract all the sugar he’d eaten but he could skip it for one day. Tossing his own pretzel rod onto the table—he wasn’t going to make an exception for sodium, not when bloat could set in—he stood, brushing any miniscule bit of dirt off his knees. “Why didn’t you go to the hockey game again?” he asked.

Mickey’s eyebrow arched and she waved her hand around the room, motioning to the table, the leftover cupcakes sitting on the kitchen counter, and Bring it On playing on the tv in the background “And miss out on all this fun?” She winked and took another bite of the pretzel rod. “Not a chance.”

James smiled, a rush of warmth spreading through him.

The door burst open; Carlos, Kendall, and Logan rushed in, hooting, and hollering, waving towels and hats in a flurry. Katie and Jennifer entered behind them, wearing identical expressions, half of amusement and half of wariness.

“Hey guys,” Mickey greeted them, walking around the table. “How was the game?” Her answer came as a wall of sound when Kendall, Carlos, and Logan screamed in her face. Blinking rapidly, she wiggled a finger in her ear as she leaned away from them. “That good, huh?”

“It was awesome!” Carlos shouted. “First the Ducks were in the lead and then the Kings caught up to them but then the Ducks were in the lead again! And during the ice cleanings Bailey and Wild Wing came out and got into a shootout. And then they played musical chairs which is silly, you know, because why would animals need to sit on chairs—ooh! Cupcakes!” Breaking off, he made a dashing dive for the kitchen counter.

“Those are mine!” James shouted, making Carlos freeze with a cupcake halfway to his mouth. A whimpering sound fell out of his mouth as he looked back and forth between James and the cupcake.

“Be nice, there’s enough for them to have one,” Mickey said, rubbing James’s arm. “Go ahead, Carlos.” She barely finished her sentence when Carlos stuffed it into his mouth, paper still attached.

“Dude.” Kendall bumped James on the arm with the back of his hand. “We had to keep Carlos from tackling Bailey the lion for thumping Wild Wing’s bill in the stands. Could’ve used you to hold him back.”

“Is that the only reason?” James asked.

Kendall scoffed. “Of course not! I had no one else to cringe with when they messed up the National Anthem. You weren’t there to list off every stat for the Kings or the Ducks—down to what conditioner they most likely used.” James pushed a laugh out of his nose. “After the game ended, they let us skate around for a bit. T’somethin’ I always dreamed about, skating one of the biggest NHL rinks. Wasn’t the same without my wingman there to catch my passes without fail.” He shoved his hands into his pockets. “We’re sorry we didn’t take your feelings seriously. Gustavo was rough on you today. We should’ve stayed with you, made sure you were okay.”

“You didn’t think I was being overdramatic?”

“Oh no, we totally did,” Kendall said, making James roll his eyes, “but halfway through the game I remembered that you get like that when it comes to things that are important to you. And it’s not fair for me, for us, to push that aside. So I’m sorry. We cool?” He extended his hand,

“We’re cool. You know I can’t stay mad at my bud,” James replied, clasping Kendall’s hand to pull him into a quick hug.

“And on that note, it’s time for me to go,” Mickey said, squeezing past them. Clutched in her hands were two Tupperware containers filled with cupcakes. “Are you feeling better?” Kendall’s eyes quickly ping-ponged between the two; he mumbled something about needing to polish his hockey puck and backed away.

James’ mind quickly scanned through a list of things he could say to keep her around a little longer. He came up with nothing. “I am, yeah,” James admitted. “Thanks for sticking around and keeping me company, Mickey.”

“Any time. If you ever want a rematch against the Missles, you know where to find me. We’ll be ready for you Diamondheads.” Leaning past James, she called out “see you, guys!” only to get distracted hand waves back from Kendall, Carlos, Logan, and Katie as they watched the game highlight on the news. She shrugged. “See ya, James,” she said, quickly tilting her fingers at him in a rippling wave.

He waved back, watching as she left the apartment. The door closed with a soft click. James turned on his heel only to stop in his tracks, noticing every pair of eyes in the room pointed on him. Eyebrows crinkling, his head tilted to the side. Usually he deserved attention, basked in it even, but he wasn’t sure what he did to get it this time. “What?” he finally asked.

“You were here with Mickey alone all afternoon,” Kendall said. “What happened?”

James shrugged, approaching the couch. “Nothing.”

“Nothing?”

“Nothing. We talked, watched some hockey, and messed around.”

“So you never hit on her?” Logan asked.

Kind of. “No, not really.” Hershey kiss substitutes didn’t count.

“Dude! This was your chance!” Carlos sprayed bits of uneaten cupcake out of his mouth as he shouted. Uttering a noise of disgust, Logan wiped the side of his face, shooting such a scathing look at Carlos it made him behind Katie. James laughed at the sight.

“Yeah, that’s not like you, James. Are you sure you’re feeling okay?” Kendall said.

“I’m feelin’ great, guys, really,” he assured them. “Gimmie another cupcake.” As he reached for the plate in Katie’s hand, he spotted something white under the pillow Kendall leaned against. He yanked it out with one strong pull. “Oh shoot,” he muttered. He got a series of asynchronous what?s answered him. “It’s Mickey’s sweatshirt. She forgot it.”

“Give it to her tomorrow. She’ll be at the studio,” Kendall pointed out.

James took in Kendall’s nonchalance with an incredulous shake of his head. He couldn’t do that. Well…he could but he couldn’t. Even if the built-in excuse for her to come back to the apartment was enticing, he wouldn’t feel right holding onto it. Not when he knew of her attachment to it, not just due to how soft and comfortable the sweatshirt was but to the band as well. When he thought about not having his Lucky Comb on him, even for a second, it sent shivers down his spine.

“No, I’ll just try and catch her at the elevator.” Clutching the sweatshirt tight in his hands, James dashed for the door. It barely opened far enough for him to fit through before he found himself out in the hall. He ran around a corner, nearly clipping it, slowing when he heard Mickeys’ voice.

“Thanks again for being so understanding. I know it was last minute…”

“Girl, it’s okay,” Jo said back. Hmm? James peered around the corner, spying Mickey and Jo standing in front of the elevator doors. She clutched a rolled-up script in her hand. “We can always go another day. It’s no big deal.”

“Thanks. James just looked so…defeated.” Mickey’s nose wrinkled. “It’s weird. I’ve never seen him like that before. I just…I didn’t want him to be alone.”

“I get it. I’m not going to be mad at you for being there for a friend,” Jo said, waving her hand in the air. “Buut…you’ll also be extra forgiven if I can have a cupcake.” Her eyebrows wiggled as she tapped a quick rhythm on the Tupperware lid.

Mickey laughed, popping the lid. “No problem.”

Jo eagerly dove for a cupcake, peeling the paper off halfway before taking a bite at the base of the treat. She brought a finger up to her mouth as she chewed, wiping away a stray smear of cream cheese frosting. “So…you must really like James to cancel going to that pie making class you’d been looking forward to for weeks.”

What!? James pressed his lips together, biting on them. The pulse of pain fell into sync with his rapid heartbeat. Jo’s lips curled in the corners and, beneath the hallway lighting, James swore he saw devil horns pop up on her head.

Mickey rolled her eyes. James squinted. Was that a blush on Mickey’s cheeks or a trick of the light? “Don’t even start with me, I gotta deal with all that at home.” The elevator dinged and the doors slid open. Mickey stepped backwards into the elevator, jabbing at a button with her elbow. “…And I don’t not like him. But don’t tell anyone that!”

Jo mimed zipping her lips. “Your secret’s safe with me.”

Swallowing the yelp fighting to shoot up his throat, James turned and headed back to 2J. He slipped into the apartment under the noise of aliens and troopers getting blown up in Biohazard 5 and Carlos’ jeers as he held his hand in front of Logan’s face.

“Did you catch her?” Kendall yelled over the noise, eyes glued to the tv.

“No, I missed her.” James made a beeline for the bedrooms, a soft smile sitting upon his lips. “I’ll see her tomorrow.”

#let me tell you i have a ball writing james' internal dialogue #james diamond #mickey mason #big time rush #big time rush oc #not beta read #my writings #mickames #first and foremost

23 notes · View notes

caspermarvelimagines · 3 years

Text

Pillow Talk

Summary

Latibule: a hiding place, a place of safety and comfort. ---- Sometimes all it takes to be happy is a bed and the right person to listen to you talk.

|| Masterlist ||

| Next |

Word Count: 2,945

AN: Hello! Welcome! This is a story idea that I’ve been playing with for more than half a year. I’ve not written loads for it, just an idea of where I want things to go. But anyway, I hope you enjoy!!

____

| 1 | Winter of 1989

Vivian is going to kill Becky when she finds her. Her best friend woke her up ten minutes before pulling her along to this party and now she has ditched her to go play hooky with some dude in this fucking mansion. Viv barely had time to grab her usual fix of coffee and her first cigarette of the day. Not to mention she is only wearing a green jumper, blue jeans and her sneakers (and maybe the same underwear as yesterday). To top it all off, Becky has Viv’s lighter with her. Vivian is just having a swell time.

Vivian strolls through the party – who’s house is this again? – hunting for her friend. She plucks a red cup from a hand within the many guys that linger around, walking away from the previous owner’s protests. Taking a swig from it, her face contorts at the acidic taste before passing it off to another hand. Viv continues her search for Becky as she pulls a cigarette out of her jeans’ pocket and holds it in her mouth. Where the fuck is Becky?!

The crowd of rowdy and piss drunk students are just adding to the growing ache in Vivian’s temples. Trust herself to give the only important possession she needs to her drunk friend. She asks around for anyone to lend her a lighter. A big ass mansion, a crowd of idiots and not one fucking lighter.

“Oi, you got a light?” Vivian grabs the shoulder of a guy that happens to be in her eye line. He is dorky, all floppy haired and dressed like some kind of model in his beige jacket, white shirt and faded jeans. Fuck was this guy?

“Who’s asking?” He grins; a row of perfect white teeth make Vivian roll her eyes.

“Stevie Nicks. Now have you got a light or not?” Vivian pulls her cigarette from her lips, holding it up to emphasise her request. Brown eyes glance over her as Viv’s hand twitches.

“Sure, if you’re sharing.” Mystery boy pulls a lighter from his jacket. Finally. Vivian tries to take it from his hand but floppy hair pulls it out of her reach.

“Whatever just give it,” Vivian grunts before reaching across and picking the lighter from his hand. She brings the flame to the end of her death stick and lights it up. Inhaling the smoke, she lets it cloud in her lungs before calmly exhaling. She could almost feel mystery boy staring holes into the side of her head with those pretty brown eyes.

Viv stuffs her hand back into her pocket and passes over her pack. She inhales a second puff when floppy hair passes them back.

“You haven’t seen a blonde have you?” Viv asks, exhaling another huff of smoke. “About this tall, wearing a tank and a black leather jacket?” Viv holds her hand just below the height of her own head while looking expectedly at her new companion.

“Hair like a bush?” He asks, gesturing around his head with his hand.

“So you’ve seen her?”

“Yeah, she’s over there talking with my buddy.” He then points across the room. Viv turns to see Becky talking to a dark skinned boy wearing a grey jacket. Vivian tosses floppy hair his lighter back before striding over to Becky.

“Thanks for ditching me, bitch,” Vivian sasses as she stops beside Becky, dragging her attention to her. Becky smiles opening her arms and turns to Vivian.

“Cheer up grumpy,” Becky pinches Viv’s cheek, earning her a slap to the hand. Becky turns her attention back to the boy drinking from a red cup beside her. “This is Rhodey.”

“Yeah, just met your friend,” Viv gestures over her shoulder to the approaching dark haired boy. Then she turns to Becky. “You still got my lighter?”

“Careful Rhodes, this one’s a thief,” Floppy hair accuses with a grin pointing at Becky. Viv rolls her eyes as Becky gasps at the newcomer.

“I’m not. It was one time!” Becky tries to explain herself but Viv snatches her lighter back before she can continue. Viv gives her a pointed look and Becky shuts up.

“Wait, aren’t you-“

“Vivian Cross,” Viv interrupts Rhodey before inhaling another drag from her cigarette. “Yes, my dad is Robert Cross. No, I won’t ask him to sign anything.”

Rhodey chuckles as he holds out his hand, Viv looks at it before shaking it with her own.

“Nah, I get enough of that narcissism from him.” Rhodey points to floppy hair, who frowns at him.

“Don’t hate the player,” Floppy hair shrugs and takes a drag from his own cigarette. The friends begin to bicker between one another and end up rough housing with one another, while Vivian and Becky watch. Becky giggled as Rhodey got the upper hand on floppy hair, Viv just rolls her eyes and looks around the party.

“I’m hungry and haven’t had my coffee,” Viv throws her cigarette butt into the red cup sitting unoccupied on the table next to her, then turns back to Becky. “Wanna go grab a burger?”

“Burgers?” Floppy hair perks up from his position of holding Rhodey in a head lock. The small distraction causes his grip to loosen and Rhodey to get out and stand back by Becky again.

“I’m not hungry,” Becky pouts. “’Sides, we’re at a party.”

“That I was dragged to against my will,” Viv reminds her best friend. “You coming or not?”

“I’m staying for a while.” Rhodey offers, smiling down at Becky. “Don’t mind the company.”

Viv smiles then points a finger at him.

“Hurt her and I’ll make you disappear.” Viv threatens and Rhodey saults with two fingers. Viv hugs Becky, whispering that she shouldn’t stay out too late again before she makes her way to the exit.

“Hey wait up!” Viv turns to see floppy hair chasing after her, a dopey grin on his face.

“You ever been to Richard’s before?” Vivian asks as they left the party behind them and begin their walk into the city.

“Not that I remember.” Floppy hair replies, throwing his now burnt out cigarette butt to the floor and stubbing it under his sneakers. “You always take random guys to burger joints?”

“Only the cute ones,” Vivian grins at her companion, watching the smirk grow on his lips. “What’s your name anyway?”

“I’ll let you take a guess.” He replies. Viv shakes her head chuckling to herself at the slight arrogance of this complete stranger.

“I’m offering to buy you a burger and you won’t tell me your name? That’s low,” Viv pokes her companion’s shoulder and pouts.

“Well if you knew who I was then you would know I don’t need you to buy anything for me.” Floppy hair takes a step in front of Vivian and begins walking backwards with each step she takes. Viv squints at him, humming in consideration before shaking her head.

“Nope. Sorry, don’t recognise ya,” Viv shrugs. Floppy hair raises an eyebrow, giving her an incredulous look. “Wait, have I brought weed off you?”

“No, but I know a guy,” Floppy hair mutters but then shakes his head. “You really don’t know me?”

“Look, either tell me who you are or I’m revoking your burger,” Viv pushes his shoulder as they come to a stop outside Richard’s burgers. Half of Viv’s face was dyed orange from the neon open sign on the window of the fast food restaurant. Floppy hair smiles and holds his hand.

“Tony,” he introduces as Viv shakes his hand.

“See, was that so hard?” Viv sasses. She releases his hand and pushes the glass door open to enter the building. Tony follows after her with a grin.

There were a litter of people sat around in booths as they entered. Viv made a bee line towards the blonde boy behind the counter. He wore a red and white striped shirt with ‘Richard’s’ logo on the right breast, a matching cap over his dirty blonde hair and a white wrist band on his left arm.

“Sorry we don’t serve shit friends,” he announced when Viv stopped opposite him.

“Don’t blame me! Becky dragged my ass out, I was gonna come meet you here.” Viv defends herself. Tony stood behind her and simply observed with a raised eyebrow.

“Yeah, mmhm. Sure you were princess.” Blondie paused and looked at Tony. He frowned and then turned back to Viv. “Who’s supermodel?”

Viv glanced behind herself to Tony, casting him a smirk and turned back.

“Wally, Tony. Tony, Wally.” Viv introduced, pointing to either boy as she said their names. “Now get me the greasy goodness you got hiding back there, throw in some greens too.” Viv winked at Wally, who’s grin turned devious.

“Coming right up,” Wally turned and shouted the order before throwing a cautious look around the three. From under his wrist band he pulled a tiny bag out and handed it over to Viv. Tony’s eyes grew double in size as he looked around them, caution was thrown out the window when he saw no one cared.

“What about you pretty boy?” Tony turned back to Wally, who patiently waited for his order.

“Cheeseburger. Am I being punked?” Tony looks around again, eyes searching for anyone that has the look of recognition donning their features but is surprised again when he doesn’t see it.

“Where’d you find this guy again?” Wally asks Viv, both frowning at Tony.

“Becky stole my lighter.”

“Ah,” Wally nodded.

Viv put the bag in her jean pocket and leant against the counter as Wally went to get the burgers. Tony had lost the façade he normally used around others, wanting to appear confident and full of himself. In its stead was Tony, confused, slightly flustered and most of all bewildered.

“What’s a’matter, cat got your tongue?” Viv asks and tilts her head. Tony frowns.

“Who am I?” Tony asks.

“Tony. You hit your head on the escape out of your ass?” Tony made an unrecognisable noise as he choked on his own words. A smile crept its way onto Viv’s face as she laughed.

“Dude, seriously. I know who you are, I just don’t give a shit.”

Viv and Tony sat outside on one of the picnic benches outside Richard’s, burgers in hand – Viv’s half finished and Tony’s only had a few bites out of it.

“So what’s your deal?” Tony asks around a mess of meat and bread. Viv throws a napkin at him as she swallows her own mouthful of food.

“For a rich boy, your manners are shocking.” Viv teases as Tony wipes his mouth.

“Thought you didn’t care who I was?” Tony rebuts.

“I don’t. But manners don’t cost anything.”

“So what’s your deal?”

“Burger and fries.” Viv replies before eating a fry. Tony rolls his eyes and sips his coke. Viv grins before pulling the small bag back out of her pocket, along with papers.

“You smoke?” She asks as she begins her tragic attempt at a roll. Tony sits watching for a moment before he grows impatient and shoos Viv’s hands away and takes over.

“You roll a shitty joint,” Tony mumbles. Viv grins and continues to eat her food while Tony is able to roll two joints. Tony holds one out to Viv with a triumphant smirk. Viv takes the roll from him, placing it between her lips and Tony holds up his lighter as he puts his own roll between his lips. Their faces mere inches away, Viv glances at Tony’s face and admires how his nose wrinkles when he concentrates. They share the flame and inhale as they sit apart again.

“Does daddy know you do this?” Tony commented when they had both exhaled. Viv rolls her eyes and takes another drag before answering.

“What he don’t know won’t kill him.”

Tony bites his burger and they sit eating and smoking for a while longer. Viv shoots Tony a glare.

“How’d you know my dad?” Viv points an accusing finger at Tony.

“I’ve seen him around Howard, that and Rhodey noticed you first,” Tony brushed off. Viv decided to drop the conversation, happy for the pair to play into ignorant bliss.

“You go to the college?” Viv asks and Tony raises an eyebrow.

“Do you?” He rebuts.

“Touché.”

Soon enough their burgers are gone and their joints burnt. Viv stands up, throws her rubbish in the trash and turns back to Tony.

“Want to come back with me?” She proposes. Tony gets up and follows her lead.

Viv fell back onto her mattress, her hands pulling Tony over her. His shirtless torso covered her equally nude chest, her hands carding through his thick hair and their lips moved together. Viv’s hand grips the hair at the nape of Tony’s neck as his hand traces up her side towards her breast.

Tony slides his tongue between Viv’s parted lips as she mewls at his touch over her chest. Kissing the corner of her mouth, he works his mouth down her jaw to her neck and across her collarbone to the swell of her breast. Viv leans her head back with a breathy gasp, her hands gripping onto hair and skin whilst Tony explored and lavished her breasts.

Viv jolted up right, pushing Tony up when they hear the apartment door slammed open. Both look towards the bedroom door and listen to the source. Becky giggles before they hear her lead Rhodey, laughing and failed dirty talk, across the flat into their own room.

“Guess they hit it off,” Tony grins as he turns back to Viv. Viv rolls her eyes before she reaches around Tony’s neck and pulls him back to her. Viv grew impatient with simple touching and kissing as she reached for the zip of Tony’s jeans. Tony took the hint and leant back whilst Viv undid his jeans and when she tugged at them he reached over and helped her remove her own.

“Drawer,” Viv spoke as she toed off her jeans. Tony reached over to the right of the bed where a small bedside table sat. He opened the drawer and found the latex in gold wrapping. He drops it next to Viv’s hip before leaning back on his knees to admire Viv’s nude body beneath him as he ran his hands up her thighs.

“What you doing?” Viv whined as she watched Tony’s eyes rake down her body, a heat raising from her neck to her cheeks.

“Admiring the view,” Tony rasps before he leans down and kisses just below the swell of her boobs. He presses wet kisses down her stomach and comes to a stop at her panty line. Tony locks his eyes on Viv’s own heated gaze as he pulled the lace underwear down, his lips following in their wake.

Viv drops her head back against her pillows when Tony’s breath fans across her folds. Her hips tentatively lifted when his lips found her clit. Tony brought her hips back down and pinned them to the bed with his hands. His tongue lavished and lapped at her as she withed under his hold. Viv’s moans and whimpers edging him on as he ground his arousal against the bed sheets.

Viv reached down with her right hand and held onto Tony’s hair as though it were a lifeline. Her left hand clutched onto the bed sheets as the heat pooled in her lower region. Her thighs tensed, her toes curled and her throat felt hoarse with her pleasure as she reached the tipping point. Tony pulled away.

Whining and disappointed, Viv looked up at Tony as he tore open the condom with his teeth. The disappointment faded when she followed where his hands wrapped the latex around his throbbing cock. Her eyes slightly bugged out off her head as she took in the size of him.

“Don’t worry, baby girl. It won’t bite.” Tony teased with a shit eating grin. He leant on his left hand beside her head as he used his right hand to direct him between her folds. He dragged his tip along her sensitive flesh and her hips bucked up and she clutched onto his bicep. Satisfied with her eager anticipation, he slowly pushed into her.

The first inch burned something fierce within Viv as her head lulled back once again. Tony shuddered as he continued to push inside her tight warmth. He bent down and kissed along her throat and she bared to him in submission. Once he sat fully inside of her they both moaned and groaned.

Tony’s left hand came up to cup Viv’s face and the pair shard a heated gaze before they kissed. Open mouthed and messy as Tony started to languidly thrust.

Viv was blissed. Her head clouded with the way Tony choked back his moans as his hips began to snap against her own. She wanted this moment to last longer than it would, she wanted to be consumed by the weight on top of her and the building of her high.

Tony could only think about how Viv clamped around him when he stroked inside her with each thrust. The way she looked underneath him, her chest marked by his mouth, matching marks littering her neck. He could feel it all coming to its crescendo and reached between them to rub his thumb over Viv’s clit. Shuddering when she tightened around him.

Viv clutched to Tony, nails digging into his arms as she keened. Heat coursed her limbs and her eyes saw white when her spine arched and her pussy clenched. Tony grunted as his hips snapped and pounded, losing all rhythm as he came.

#tony stark #young Tony Stark #young tony #tony stark fanfic #Tony Stark fanfiction #tony stark imagine #tonyxofc #tony starkxofc #young romance #mentions of drugs #mentions of drug abuse #slow burn

8 notes · View notes

mortedeveles · 4 years

Note

AHHH that last mha headcanon was amazing tysm! You did great!!♡♡ Could I ask for another one with the same boys? (baku,tenya & izu!) With a crush who draws a lot? Like maybe they doodle while in class and while on break, 'cause they're bored? And the bois get curious because they're ALWAYS drawing while in the middle of class and they space out! Bonus points if the bois check their notebook and there's dumb doodles of them doing/saying something funny and some with little hearts around them. ^^"

thank you!! of course, anon! here you go, I hope you like it! a friendly reminder that my REQUESTS ARE OPEN! feel free to request lovelies! i’m ready to write for whatever you guys have in mind. i have a project coming up in 1-2 weeks and i think you guys will like it 👁️👁️! i’ll be posting the bonuses of model for me soon enough and a new series (not bakuhoe) will be posted as well! so stay tuned for more <3 as always, please leave a like, reblog, follow and/or comment if you enjoyed! support and feedback are ALWAYS welcomed! <3

PAIRING: IIDA T. X GN!READER, BAKUGOU K. X GN!READER, TODOROKI S. X GN!READER

THEMES: humor, fluff. [HEADCANNONS]

TW: cursing

IIDA, MIDORIYA, KATSUKI, TODOROKI WITH A DOODLER!CRUSH READER

Frankly, school can be quite boring. Even though you're in the hero course and you learn extraordinary things, it doesn't exclude regular civilian subjects such as history, math and so.

When you lose focus in class, you like to redirect your attention to doodling. It's fun, relaxing and effortless- it's also quite time-consuming and you've spaced out of class many times.

When you space out, you lose the function to pay attention to your reality- and ever since the first day you started doodling in class, you never noticed a pair of curious eyes watching you.

IIDA TENYA

Iida Tenya is quite the gentleman. He's also known for being strict and keeping the chaotic class 1A in order- (well, try and fail many times, but he does his best.) During classes with Aizawa, the majority of the classroom is quiet- but he always hears intense scribbling from your seat.

Usually, he does his best to ignore it and focuses on the class but you're his crush- and the fact that he always hears intense scribbling every day is quite concerning. But one day, he can't take it anymore.

It's a hot and sweltering day, it doesn't help that class 1A just finished hero training and even though everyone hit the showers afterward- the classroom is boiling.

Iida's neck is drenched in sweat, Aizawa's flat and tired voice drones on and he hears furious scribbling behind him- it's all giving him a headache.

Slowly, he turns around and stares blankly at you. Your head is lowered, hand sketching in your notebook. Your movements are fluid and bold and your arm is propped lazily on the desk, leaning your head against it.

He feels his nerves calm at the sight. But then he remembers that he's class president- you're not paying attention in class and that is not okay. Iida opens his mouth and delivers a long speech. Tenya is strict- but he's not stupid- he lowers his voice so he won't embarrass you in front of the class.

After his long speech, he expects you to look sullen or simply understand where he's coming from- but instead, you're snickering with a smile.

''I'm sorry, Iida. I just space out of class all the time and I like to doodle,'' there's a playful pout on your lips, a pleading look gleaming in your eyes.

Oh god, how is he supposed to reprimand you when you look so cute and adorable?

His voice is stuck in his throat- there's a flushed expression on his face and it only gets worse when Aizawa's voice booms.

''Iida, if you're done with your important chat with L/N, turn around and pay attention. You're class president, I expect better from you.''

Iida nearly squeaks as he turns around and nods, apologizing several times. Aizawa simply sighs tiredly and resumes the lesson.

After that time, Iida spots you doodling all the time in class. It makes him concerned- do you even pay attention in class? Are your grades failing?

Eventually, he confronts you about and explains his concerns. His face is beet red when he's done, but you simply brush him off with a smile.

Assuring him that your grades and knowledge are in perfect order, you simply doodle a lot in class. After that confrontation, Iida is much more relaxed about the situation, and every time he sees you doodle, there's a soft smile on his lips.

MIDORIYA IZUKU

Midoriya is a very observant person. He has dozens of notebooks dedicated to quirks, Pro Heroes, and so on and while he doesn't write about his friends- he tends to notice several things.

For example, you. Since you began to attend U. A with Izuku, he's noticed that you spend most of your time sketching, doodling god knows what. You've never shown him your artwork.

Another thing he's realized is that when you start doodling- only Aizawa's loud voice or the school bell will snap you out of it. Izuku's tried everything- waving his hands in your face, throwing you paper balls- nothing. It's like you've been sucked out of reality..

Your manners leave him interested, curious to know more. He's sure you're not slacking off in class- he's been in several study sessions with Tsuyu, Iida, Ochaco, Todoroki, and you- you're always on track and usually have a good grasp of the subject.

You rarely share your notes- only with Tsuyu and Iida and occasionally Todoroki.

Midoriya doesn't mind, but it makes him burn with curiosity. So on the next studying session, he decides to come up with a plan.

''Y/N, what did you get on question 43?'' Ochaco asked. She leaned towards said girl and giggled.

Izuku frowned. What was so funny? The brunette's grin grew as she stared down at Y/N's notes, who was stammering and trying to hide their notes from the public view.

When Ochaco and Y/N rose and said they needed to visit the restroom- Izuku struck. Tsuyu was chatting with Todoroki and Iida had his nose buried in his book- so they didn't notice when he grabbed your notebook.

He flicked through pages, greedily drinking in the sight of your doodles. They were all varied- some flowers, vines, others were small and cute animals- and others were more complex but in the end, doodles. Midoriya froze when he flipped through a page and saw a... peculiar sight.

In the middle of the page, was a heart. You had doodled several headshots of Izuku, in which some of them he was saying corny or bad jokes, and in others, he was simply smiling. His cheeks burned when he saw the small hearts that you had doodled around him.

When he heard your voice and footsteps approaching the dorm- he quickly dropped your notebook in your spot and tried to act casual. Tsuyu raised an eyebrow at this, but said nothing, while Todoroki asked him why his face was burning.

He had refused to answer and remained somewhat silent during the rest of the session, his cheeks red. His heart was soaring with happiness- those doodles only meant one thing- you had feelings for him.

Once the studying session was over, Izuku would pull you aside and confess his feelings. His veins were pumping with confidence- you liked him back!

BAKUGOU KATSUKI

Ever since you befriended Katsuki, he's noticed that you're a very attentive friend.

That is when you're not in class. You submerge yourself into your notebook with a pencil and nothing else- and pour all your attention into it.

Bakugou thinks it's rather annoying, he's tried to get your attention several times, only to fail miserably.

Today is no exception. Bakugou's ready to pop- dunceface and shitty head have been bothering him all day, stupid Deku gave a speech that made him roll his eyes and he was tired and just wanted to go to bed.

Unfortunately, he found himself stuck in class, listening to Aizawa talk like a damn zombie- trying to grab your attention, but you were too immersed in your doodles.

Irritated, he pressed his sweat hand on your neck and ignited a small spark- not enough to hurt you, but enough to startle you. The effect was immediate. You yelped and snapped your neck upwards, clutching the back of your neck. Everyone stared at you, bewildered. Katsuki grinned, satisfied that he finally got your attention but when you realized it was him- you narrowed your eyes and scowled.

''Bakugou? L/N? What's going on?'' Aizawa asked sharply.

Your scowl deepened. ''Everything is okay, Aizawa-sensei. I apologize.'' Your eyes stayed on Bakugou as you spoke.

Aizawa hummed in response and continued with the lesson. Bakugou bit down on his lip, swallowing a snicker.

After class, you smacked Bakugou on the head, to which he responded with a growl and the two of you engaged in a match of playful fighting, and between snickers and lunges your notebook fell out of your open backpack, loose sheets slipping out.

Immediately, you jumped back and began to gather them, but Bakugou kneeled down and helped you as well. He froze as he held a loose sheet- there were several sketches of him with different expressions- in some, he was smirking, frowning or screaming- but that wasn't what made him freeze. It was the several little hearts that you had doodled around him.

You nearly shrieked when you saw which paper he was holding and snatched it out of his hands. In a blink of an eye, you had picked everything up and ran away.

Katsuki was puzzled. He stood there for a minute or two, gears shifting in his brain as he processed the situation. Once it finally kicked in, he raced after you and found you sitting in a corner, head buried between your knees.

''Um,'' he cleared his throat awkwardly. ''Hey.'' his voice was gruff and tense.

You groaned and shook your head. ''Go away, Bakugou. I know you don't like me, so just spare me from the harsh rejection.''

''What?'' he furrowed his eyebrows and kneeled to your height. ''What the fuck are you talking about? That's not true.''

Slowly, you raised your head and peered at him, narrowing your eyes with suspicion. ''It's not?''

Bakugou scoffed. ''Of course not. I like you too, dumbass,'' he grumbled the last sentence, feeling his ears and cheeks warm up.

''Oh.'' was all you said. The blonde snickered and pulled you upwards onto your feet.

''C'mon dumbass, I'll walk you home. Gotta keep you safe.''

(bonus extra!)

TODOROKI SHOUTO

Shoto is clever and can improvise quickly- but he can be quite dense or oblivious at times. He probably wouldn't notice your doodling habits and if he did, he would brush it off. You're just doodling in class, nothing too fancy.

He doesn't understand how far your doodling goes until he asks you to lend him your math notes after class, and you happily oblige.

Shoto spends the rest of the afternoon studying and writing down whatever he missed- all thanks to your notes that were thankfully complete.

Once he was sure he'd done enough studying, Todororki began to flip through your notes idly, appreciating your writing. The more he read, the more he realized that there were doodles...everywhere.

He thought it was quite impressive that you managed to doodle so much in class and your artistic skills were quite impressive. There was a variety of sketches- plants, animals, silly faces but the ones he saw the most, were the ones of him.

Shoto felt a strange flutter whenever he saw one of your doodles that were him. You captured him perfectly and he cracked a grin whenever he saw one in which he was saying a corny or silly joke. It was refreshing.

It made his heart warm, seeing that his crush seemed to be as fond of him as he was of them. I don’t think he’d truly understand why you would draw him several times and instead, would ask you for an explanation.

The next day, he made sure to thank you for lending him your notes- and for making such beautiful and impressive doodles.

206 notes · View notes