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more-than-a-princess · 1 year

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SLEEP MEME

Type of bed: She's a future queen, but this princess sleeps in a king sized bed. At Novoselic Castle, it's a canopy bed that was moved into Sonia's wing after she turned thirteen. At Boudry House (her townhome that spans a square city block in the Novoselic capital, inherited when she turned eighteen), the canopy has been replaced with drawn curtains. Especially good for when she's combating jetlag, gets a rare nap, or just doesn't want to wake up with the sun.

At Hope's Peak, she has a king sized bed too. But with fewer frills than her beds at home (no dust ruffle, for example).

Number of blankets: At any given time, Sonia will at least have a top sheet, a comforter (plush and full in the spring and summer, down feather-stuffed in the fall and winter), and a folded blanket at the end of her bed. As needed, more blankets are added. She needs at minimum a top sheet and a comforter to sleep properly in a bed.

Number of pillows: Sonia has at least five pillows. There's the one beneath her head, the one propped against her headboard, the two on opposite sides of her head if she's laying in the center of her bed, and the one she's cuddling, or rather octopus-hugging. This one is either long and body pillow sized (but not printed. Not even with a cute goth on it) or regular-sized, but it is the most misshapen because Sonia sleeps on her side with her arms and legs wrapped around that pillow. Unless, of course, there is someone in bed with her whom she wants to cuddle and they don't mind not leaving the bed until she wakes up (and lets them get up).

Do not try to get up before Sonia is ready for you to get up. She will only cling tighter, even when asleep. You will be cuddled, resistance is futile.

Type of clothing: It depends on the time of year. Most of the time, Sonia is prone to choosing silk nightgowns and pajama sets with coordinating dressing gowns/robes. They feel wonderful against her skin and she feels beautiful in them! She also keeps her hair loosely braided back and tied with a silk ribbon before bed: it keeps her hair from tangling in her sleep, and pulls it away from her face when she's doing her nighttime skincare.

Because it's not cute when your hair is sticking to your serum, or your sheet mask, or your sleeping pack/cream.

For much warmer and colder weather, she has a few light and airy cotton and linen nightgowns, plaid flannel pajama sets, and a collection of horror, creepy, and anime (usually magical girl or horror) t-shirts, that she can pair with the flannel pajama pants.

On occasion, she borrows a button-down shirt or a t-shirt from her significant other, especially if they are taller and broader than she is. She always looks cute in them. Said SO may not get their shirt back, though.

Does it matter where they sleep?: For Sonia, it absolutely does. Having grown up relatively sheltered, traveling only with her family and staying in top-notch accommodations, sleeping in an unfamiliar bed takes some time to get used to. Sleeping in a hotel bed, for example, is often a gamble as to how comfortable or relaxed she will be to fall asleep (but if she's truly exhausted, she will collapse and reach for a pillow/something to cuddle no matter what). She is not one for sleeping on a sofa/chair.

That said, this woman's private plane and the royal train carriages both have queen sized beds on board for long days of travel.

What do they do if they cannot fall asleep?: This is the perfect opportunity for Sonia to engage in one or more of the following!

Finally delve into that book and/or manga she's been intending to read/continue but hasn't had time.

Go through decision paralysis as she tries to decide which horror movie to watch for the 10th (or more) time, or which unsolved murder case/mystery/cult documentary she wants to watch before posting conspiracy theories or 'did anyone notice this detail in this horror movie?' to Reddit at some ridiculous hour.

Overthink something she really shouldn't be overthinking about at that hour. Including but not limited to: that person cannot possibly have feelings for me if they knew what they were getting into by dating me, how in good conscience could I let them get involved with me knowing that they'd never know privacy or zero responsibilities ever again (much less having to deal with my family and all that comes with it), what if I fail my country and my family at being Queen (or just bring shame to one or both of them, also something that's panic-inducing for Sonia), what if I never make a meaningful contribution to the history of my country or at least leave it in a better place upon my death, and 'Oh no I cannot edit that post and I got the release year wrong for the fifth Friday the 13th film everyone will suspect I am not a true horror fan.'

Sleep and/or de-stress medications with a side of decaf tea.

If the above options either don't apply or aren't effective, drink alcohol. Excessively. Until passing out.

Sex and, ahem, personal stress relief also helps.

Frequent dreams, nightmares: In non-despair, Sonia's dreams are usually a mix of weird/silly thoughts often featuring memes/trends that are at least six months out of date (she'd dream about calling a situation 'poggers' in 2023, for example), unresolved or otherwise unsatisfied sexual and/or romantic tension, or envisioning a future where she has failed at being queen or otherwise disappointed and/or shamed Novoselic and her family in some way. She doesn't have terribly cheerful or otherwise inconsequential dreams, and to her dismay, she doesn't dream about ghosts, demons, serial killers, or other horror movie monsters. She wishes she did!

In post-despair, it is all angst, all the time: unless she has drank herself to a dreamless sleep or is on medication to help her sleep, Sonia will constantly replay events of The Tragedy and the Neo World Program in her head. Sleep is usually when she remembers all of the horrendous crimes she committed (that is, if the media hasn't replayed or reprinted footage from her actually doing them). She sometimes gets bits and pieces of her happier life at Hope's Peak before The Tragedy, but they are few and far between in comparison to the 'All Time Most Traumatizing Kills By Sonia Nevermind' playlist.

She has dreamt about her parents' deaths more times than she ever wants to admit.

Deep slumber or naps?: Both, depending on the day and situation. Some days (especially travel days), Sonia is able to get in a nap between on-board or on-train meetings, and at home, she can sometimes get a 30-60 minute nap added into her schedule. But as a student, Sonia rarely has times for naps unless it's a weekend day without royal responsibilities. So she sleeps pretty soundly when she can (though she stays up far too late, especially in her younger years, catching up on all the movies/TV/anime/manga she can).

When do they sleep? In theory, Sonia aims for between 1 and 2 AM. In practice, especially if she's in the middle of a good movie or book, this is pushed to far later despite her, on average, 7 AM wakeup time. It's easier to do when she's younger: undereye patches, concealer, and a strong cup of black tea works wonders. Post-university, she wonders how she ever adhered to that sort of schedule. But she makes time to stay up later every so often, especially when it's to connect with friends or significant others due to time constraints or different time zones.

What could wake them up?: Several alarms, sunlight right in her eyes, her personal secretary Cecily striding into her room with two maids to open up Sonia's drapes and deliver her pre-breakfast tea and biscuit tray alongside any relevant news, press coverage, or updates to her daily schedule that cannot wait until the breakfast table.

Sonia would prefer to wake up naturally, or by someone she loves. But it's usually with an alarm, important headlines, and/or butter biscuits dipped in hot tea.

Tagged by: Stolen from @electricea!

Tagging: @cantillat (Shirou), @quickdeaths (I'd probably suggest Shinobu here but if you want to choose someone else go for it!), @dcviated (Wylan and/or Eira, unless you are feeling up to filling this out for someone else), @hxpelessnurse, @scarlxtleaves (Lupin), @dxfiedfxte, @litoredeem, @tricksheart, @mechatiqe, @aceparagon, @orderbourne, and you! (I pretty much scrolled my last few weeks of posts/replies/comments and added everyone I could see who has replied to threads/commented/sent in asks. I hope that's ok with you!)

#more-than-a-princess headcanons #(This meme looked like fun so in the queue it went!)#(Sonia has some peculiar sleep habits but mostly she's predictable)#(It's unfair she never gets ghosts or demons in her non-despair dreams though)#(It's all she wanted: for the spooks and horrors in horror movies to infiltrate her dreams and give her a good scare)#(Instead she gets personal feelings of inadequacy and panic about the future)

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0perfectimperfections0 · 2 years

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Reborn Pt. 2

He woke up some odd time later. Lou didn't bother turning to look out the bedroom window and see if there was any light outside. He stared blankly at the wall across the room.

I'm still stuck here...everything I did...did nothing at all. I'm destined to be here until...until when? How long until my chip just bites the dust? How long am I gonna be forced to live day after day and watch everyone else leave--

"You should've come downstairs," Mandy's voice pulled him harshly from his thoughts, making him startle a bit. The bed moved behind him as she sat down, but he refused to look at her. "We've got dinner ready." No response.

"I'm not hungry." He finally mumbled. Lies.

"Figured you'd say that," she hummed. Something rustled behind him. The next thing he knew, she was holding a piece of toast above him. "Ox made some texas toast. He said you love it."

Lou glared defiantly at it. His stomach growled softly, but Mandy heard it. Stupid body. Stupid world. Stupid Institute. Stupid--

"You can pout all you want to, but you've gotta eat sooner or later."

"I'm not pouting," he looked to the wall again. Screw the stupid piece of toast. He wasn't throwing away the very last thing he had left to offer in this blasted world -- his dignity. Of course, with that complete trainwreck of an emotional breakdown earlier, he may have already lost that, too.

Mandy leaned over him, arm propping her up on the other side of his body. She waved the toast closer to his mouth, "I'm not leaving till you eat it. You're hungry and in your feelings right now. And you have every right to be. But please eat something."

He could see her face now, worried. She was worried about him. He also noticed she was wearing a new pair of glasses. Ones that weren't broken in the middle. He refused to acknowledge the guilt that pooled in him at that memory.

It seemed all he was going to do was stare at her, lost in whatever he was thinking of. As long as she honestly could've just stayed there, staring into his eyes, she was adamant about making him eat something. "Don't make me carry you all the way downstairs. I bet Ox knows a thing or two about how to get you to eat. The way he talked makes it sound like this isn't the first time."

It wasn't. Stupid bunny had to go and spill every secret the blonde had. Regardless, he knew Mandy would be more than capable of picking him up and doing as she said. To save himself any more embarrassment, he supposed he had to comply. She smiled when a hesitant hand took the toast, and he took a shy bite from it, staring back at the wall.

"The outfit looks nice on you," she commented idly while he ate. She rubbed the end of his vest between her fingers. The machines had adorned him in the same attire as the other male dolls. Plaid pants with a white dress shirt and a black vest over the top.

This outfit was definitely more breathable. He was not stiff, and he could actually move his arms more without sleeves restricting him. The only problem was that he wasn't the same size as the other dolls -- another issue he was hoping would've been fixed by the recycling. His creator hand-made him, meaning the dolls manufactured by the machines were of a bigger scale. Not by too much, and he usually presented himself on stage, so the difference was rarely mentioned. It was obvious now, though, as the pants draped over his feet and the shirt and vest hung loosely from his torso. Maybe that was the reason behind the breathing room.

He slowly finished the bread in silence. Anything to appease her and let him wallow in his thoughts alone. A part of him -- subdued part of him -- found vast comfort in her company, though. He coiled at the thought of that being the reason behind him eating slowly. Once he was done and wiped the crumbs from his face, Mandy gave him a bright smile. "Feel better?" He would be loath to admit he did a little, maybe craving more now that his stomach was aware there was food.

Since she wasn't expecting a response, he wasn't surprised when she didn't wait for one. What caught him off guard was when arms hooked under his knees and underarms, lifting him off the bed. "Gosh, you do need to eat. You're light."

"Put me down! This is humiliating!" He struggled against her. "I can walk on my own!"

"Bold of you to assume that I trust you to go to the kitchen on your own."

"I'll go! I'll go! Geez, just put me down!"

She scrutinized him a moment before relenting and setting him on the floor. Taking a firm hold of his hand, she linked their arms together so he couldn't run back to the bed. "Fine, but I take no chances."

There was literally no point in resisting. He didn't weigh enough to keep her from dragging him out the door, let alone to prevent being carried again. So, they proceeded down the hall, arms linked and hand-in-hand. Mandy pointedly ignored the smirk Nolan sent her way. "Took you a while," he noted slyly, swirling his straw around in the glass of water.

"There was some resistance," she narrowed her eyes back to the brunette.

Wage snorted from where she stood at the kitchen counter, "What, air resistance? He weighs barely anything."

Ox pushed a plate to an empty seat at the table. "Which is gonna be fixed startin' now. Eat up, Lou."

"I'm not--ow!" He glared at Mandy, who had kicked him when he was about to decline the offer. She nodded to the seat. "This is stupid," he muttered under his breath. It didn't go past him, either, that they set him on the side facing away from the window. The window showed the shimmering view of the portal in all its stupid glory. Nolan did him the favor of completely closing the blinds since they had plenty of lighting inside. "Thanks," Lou whispered so only Nolan could hear. The brunette was surprised at first but gave a small smile and settled back into his seat beside Lou.

"Gosh," Nolan looked the almost-blonde over. A hand pulled at the back of Lou's collar, "What measurements is your suit in? It's practically hanging off of you."

"I'm sure you'd be happy to tailor him a new one, Nolan," Mandy looked at him expectantly. "Right?"

"Gee, thanks, you ruined the surprise," Nolan looked at her flatly. Turning back to Lou, "I'll make you a smaller one. Heck, I can make you your old suit if you want."

"There ain't some smaller sizes around town?" Ox offered.

A gesture was made to the doll in question. "Look at him! He's tiny. No doll is that small." Moxy slowly raised a hand from where she sat across from Lou. Nolan held a hand up toward her, deadpan, "I meant Pretty Dolls. No model 12 is his size."

"I'm right here, you know," Lou grumbled, pushing some food around with a fork.

He was ignored. "How small is small?" Ox asked offhandedly. "A little baggy won't hurt 'im."

"Ox, what he's wearing now is the standard model 12 attire. It literally swallows him whole. I guarantee you there isn't a single doll in this place that's his size."

The two continued going back and forth. A hand rested between Lou's shoulders. Mandy poured him some more water from behind. "We can always get you some clothes that are meant to be worn oversized. It won't be as...professional as what you're used to, though." She suggested quietly to him.

"Will it make my size less noticeable?" He sighed as Nolan and Ox continued pointing out the obvious.

She laughed quietly, "Come on." Lou quickly followed her to the living room. She rummaged through a backpack, pulling out something. Lou waited awkwardly. A white hoodie was held up in show for him. "Wanna try this? It's really soft inside. Feel it!" She pulled back the sleeve a bit for him to feel. It...was soft.

A patter of footsteps rushed past him, and Moxy pulled out something from the backpack as well. "Are we doing dress-up? I love it! Okay, how about these?" Moxy threw a pair of sweatpants at him that he barely managed to catch.

Mandy at least draped the hoodie into his arms. "Go change, and then you can tell us how comfortable you are."

"I'll look ridiculous," he scrunched his nose at the clothes.

"Not any more than you do right now!" Moxy beamed up at him.

He gave her a flat look, turning on his heel to go to the bathroom. The pants he had on now went past his feet, making it a hazard to walk any distance.

The moment he looked into the bathroom mirror, he froze. Wow...it wasn't a major difference, but when you get used to seeing the same face every day, it's mind-blowing. Lou leaned closer to the reflection, turning his head to inspect the freckles. He wasn't...ugly...maybe. Lou swallowed, looking away from the foreign face. This was him now. No more Mr. Perfect. He was hideous now. Trash.

Fingers drummed against the counter, eyes growing weary as the self-deprecating thoughts settled in. The clothes were changed. They were still baggy, but Mandy said they were meant to be worn that way. Lou figured he'd look hideous no matter what now. So, what was the point in trying anymore?

The second he entered the living room, a squeal grabbed his attention. Moxy rushed up to him, eyes wide, "Oh my doll! You look adorable! Now try this on--"

"Moxy, we're not playing dress-up," Mandy giggled.

Just as Moxy brushed off her comment to hold a jacket up to the Pretty Doll, a knock slammed against the door. It sounded again as Nolan stood up from his seat, "Coming!" He rolled his eyes, muttering, "Gosh, break the door down why don't you--"

A fan of red light immediately swept over Nolan when he opened the door. Before he said anything, the robot responded. "I am looking for Prototype Model 12, also known as Louis Everett."

"You have a last name?" Moxy whispered to the boy beside her. Lou swallowed, taking a step behind Mandy.

"Uh," Nolan glanced at him, then back to the robot. "He's not here. Is there a message I can give to him?"

"I have tracked him to this location," it answered. "His creator needs to speak with him."

Lou's pupils shrunk, now hiding behind Mandy. She reached back to shield him from whatever threat this robot seemed to pose. Lou was scared for a reason.

"Your tracker must be wrong, then," Nolan straightened. "He's not here. I'll let him know you're looking for him, though." He went to close the door, but the robot stopped it, bracing a hand against the wood.

It loomed over the brunette. "Failure to comply will result in extermination. Where is Model 12 Prototype?"

Nolan, stiff and at a loss for what to do, tensed even more when Lou suddenly stood in front of him. "I'm here." He put on a stoic face despite his nerves bundling inside. "What does Mr. Everett want?"

A red light washed over him, and the robot's eyes flashed green. "Prototype Model 12, Confirmed. Mr. Everett has requested to talk to you virtually." It entered the house without an invitation. Its hand ejected a flash drive, inserting it into the box plugged into the tv.

Nolan glanced between the robot and Lou. "Is Mr. Everett like...your dad?"

A shudder went down the doll's spine at that word. "No," he answered sharply. "He's...He created me...by hand. Well, before I...," he gestured lamely to his new appearance.

"So," Mandy stepped beside him as they watched the robot do...whatever it was doing, "Something tells me he's not gonna be happy."

"...No," Lou answered with much less fire.

#uglydolls #lou #mandy #moxy #nolan #ox #wage #babo #luckybat #uglydog #fanfiction #writing #stx #part 2

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houseofgerrard · 3 months

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Check out this listing I just added to my Poshmark closet: Coldwater Creek Green Plaid Pull-up Pants Size 20W.

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kitquotes692 · 2 years

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Buying a School Jersey For Your Child

School jerseys come in all shapes and sizes, with a variety of fabrics and materials. You can find everything from the classic white cotton to the more colorful cotton baju kurung. If you have a child attending school, you'll be happy to know that they'll be wearing an item that's safe, comfortable, and stylish, no matter their age.

Brazilian school uniforms

Brazilian school jersey uniforms vary widely among the different schools. In public institutions, school colours and designs are decided upon locally, while in private schools, the uniform policy is up to the school. Some schools require full uniforms, while others permit regular jeans. Those with less funds may find it difficult to afford the latest styles.

Traditionally, primary and secondary school uniforms were one-piece blue or black. High school students were also required to wear a white shirt and jacket. The formal sets - which are worn on special occasions - consisted of a suit for boys and a skirt for girls.

Nowadays, students often opt for more fashion-forward looks. They can choose to wear dresses, make-up and jewellery outside of the classroom. Girls might also wear skirts that are too short. Depending on the school, they may or may not wear a skirt of a certain colour.

One of the most common uniforms for boys is a T-shirt with a school logo. Boys may also wear a polo shirt or a short sleeved button-up. Similarly, girls have many options, including skirts, shorts and leggings.

There is a new system being used in a handful of Brazilian cities to combat truancy. It works by sending parents a text message whenever a child enters or exits the school building. This is a measure aimed at improving teacher-parent relations.

Indonesian baju kurung

Baju Kurung is a traditional costume, worn by men and women in Malaysia, Singapore, Indonesia and Thailand. This dress originated in the Malay community, and has evolved over time, but it remains a well-known cultural attire.

Baju Kurung has two distinct fashion methodologies. The first is a conservative baju kurung that has a structured silhouette. It consists of a long top with loose pants.

Another fashion methodology is the Baju Melayu, which is a baggy shirt. It is often paired with a sampin, a traditional Malay scarf. However, the sampin can be worn as part of the traditional costume, or as an entire baju kebaya.

A sampin is usually made from a woven material, and is typically made of tenun pahang diraja. Sometimes, it is made from songket cloth, which is a hand-woven brocade fabric.

A sampin wraps around the middle of the body, from the stomach to the knee. Sarongs are typically made of plaid cloth, and are usually made from Samarinda (Kalimantan), but are also sometimes made from Trengganu (Malaya).

Today, the most common form of baju kurung is the teluk belanga, which is a Johore style that has no collar. However, other styles include the Cekak Musang, which has holes for five buttons, and the Deduction, which is a long-sleeved shirt believed to have received influences from China and India.

Haredi school uniforms

If you're like most average news consumers, you may have a tough time believing that there is actually a community called Haredi. It's a Jewish religious movement that is centered on strict adherence to religious laws. These strictures are based on the biblical concept of purity.

Many members of the Haredi community consider themselves constantly under threat. This is due in part to the fact that they are a very conservative group. The group is defined by their decision not to participate in full military service in the Israeli army.

However, they do engage in an education system that is different from that offered by most public schools. A major portion of young men attend a yeshiva (a religious school) until they marry, although many continue to study in kollel (a communitybased institution).

Some Yeshivas also offer students a degree. In Maryland, there are several Yeshivas with agreements with universities such as the University of Baltimore, Loyola College, and Johns Hopkins University.

There is also a growing Hasidic community in the Washington DC area. The Yeshiva of Greater Washington is one such establishment.

Haredi yeshivas are unlike most New York city schools in that they refuse to change their names or dress. While most boys wear a kapoteh, a paisley embroidered shirt with a tzitzit, girls are required to wear a uniform that is both stylish and functional.

#school jersey #leavers jumpers #college jersey #leavers hoodies

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dokifluffs · 4 years

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Free! as Dads | Rin, Sosuke, Makoto

Pairings: Rin X Reader (gender neutral though not really mentioned), Reader isn’t mentioned in Sosuke’s, and Makoto X Reader (gender neutral)

Genre: fluffy domestic swimmer dads

Author’s Note: free! needs more appreciation ✨

Free! as Dads | Haru, Ikuya, Natsuya

RIn: gif from @makeusfreefromthisfandom

Inches of snow blanketed the streets, sidewalks, and houses, and the inches would only grow for the rest of the day and tomorrow

“Bunbun, it’s time to wake up, baby,” Rin softly whispered as he leaned down, hovering above his two year old daughter’s sleepy face

Her face poured and contorted, her eyes squeezing shut even more as she was pulled from her peaceful sleep by her father as he would be home while you were away

The bed was so dwarfed whenever he stood or sat by it to wake her but it was adorable as she was

Her red hair matching his, bright eyes matching his too

“Bunbun,” said once again as she brought her hands to her eyes, rubbing them before peeking them open to her father

“I’m still here,” he teased. “Come on, let’s get you ready for the day.” He effortlessly scooped her up and helped her brush her teeth, wash her face, and get dressed

And now it was time for hair, a part he wasn’t too confident himself in

Her hair was so soft and light, it was short down to her shoulders

She sat still on her stool as he stood behind her, a hair tie in between his teeth as he gently brushed it, stalling so he could think what he could do

“Why’d you set the bar so high, Y/N?” He thought to you, thinking about how you always beautifully did your daughter’s hair

Little buns, braids, cute hair clips

But then it hit him with what he could do

He gathered the hair on the crown of her head into a single little pigtail

“Do you like it, bun? I can’t do it as well as mommy does but it’s still something.” He looked at her reflection as she tiredly looked through the mirror too

“You too, daddy.” She adorably tilted her head, pointing up to her dad’s hair that was loosely down

“Me? Want us to match?”

“Yeah!” She nodded happily, her little teeth adorable as her eyes turned into thin lines

And Rin did just that

He gathered his hair up with his little girl sitting on the counter before him, his body blocking the edge so there was no chance for her to fall

She clung onto his shirt, her smile only growing bigger and bigger the closer his hair was getting to matching hers

“Now we’re the same!” She cheered, giggly as can be as she reached up to him as Rin leaned down and scooped her into his arms

“Hm,” he hummed. “Now we really are papa and baby shark,” he bounced her playfully as they descended down the stairs, her small hands clinging to his shirt

And for the rest of the day, as Rin trained from home, the occasional smile broke out when he saw his daughter as she played in the corner

Seeing the little pigtail that matched the one he wore on his head

Sosuke: gif from @makeusfreefromthisfandom. Also, based on this tik tok sound

The little bedroom was illuminated out of the darkness, the automatic little night lights shutting off now that the bedroom light was switched on

Sosuke towered over all the small furniture in the cream colored bedroom, matching the rest of the aesthetic you had designed the house with, as he carried his little girl in her little charcoal gray onesie with faint white stripes

She latched her short arms around Sosuke’s neck, her hands clinging to the back of his white tshirt and her whale shark plushie, dark blue plaid pajama pants with black slippers on his feet

He bent over the miniature bed frame, moving his arms from below her body, to take hold of her sides

“Time for bed now,” his voice was tender with love as he set her body down to lay in bed but she still clung to him, some non-verbal whines coming from her as she refused to let go of her dad

“D/N, time to sleep,” a low chuckle escaping him as he rubbed her back, giving her small pats until she loosened her grip, setting Sosuke free

Her cheeks were puffed and eyes wide and glistening as she looked up to him, her hands that once hung to his shirt now clung to her blanket and blankie

“What’s wrong, hm?” He tucked her in, resting his arms over her covers as she looked at him as he knelt beside her bed, looking into her teal eyes that matched his own yet all she did was sniffle, staring back to her father as if he could read her mind

“Don’t cry, there’s nothing to cry about,” he soothed his little girl, holding the side of her head, leaning close to press a kiss to her head as he stood up

“Okay, daddy’s gonna leave now,” he hummed as he walked away, switching off the lights, the cool touch of metal on his hand but just before the door shut, he heard her voice

“Cuddle me,” she cried out, her little voice sounding off her walls as she made little grabby hands towards her father

“What?” He opened the door again, the light from the hallway pooling into the bedroom

“Cuddle!” her voice sounded and face looked so sad in his eyes, it actually broke his heart to see his little girl so distraught

“You wanna cuddle?” He stepped into the room, tilting his head in amusement as she crawled out of bed, kneeling on her bed, arms reaching toward her father as he approached her

“Yeah,” a hot tear cascaded down her cheek as she closed her arms around his neck, nuzzling close in the safety and comfort of his embrace

The biggest smile broke on Sosuke’s face as he sat in the miniature bed, doing his best to lay in it despite the sheer size difference but his daughter was happy and that was all that mattered

“Okay,” he chuckled low, chest rumbling as she laid draped over his abdomen, her hands once again holding onto his shirt as she rubbed her back

Sosuke held his little whale shark close as she laid on his chest, her little back rising and falling with every breath as she slowly began to sleep soundly against her father’s chest

Makoto:

“Good morning, babies,” your voice quiet as your little one year old son and daughter unsteadidly held onto the side of the crib, their olive brown hair messy and dissolved from sleep

They reached up, cooing at you to be picked up. After doing so, you changed them and brought them back to your bedroom where Makoto remained

You sat on the corner of the bed, careful not to wake him from the shifting of the bed as he slept soundly

The two babies reacted as soon as they saw their papa fast asleep and began crawling toward the big man fast asleep laid on his stomach, his arms buried beneath the pillows, his face and hair smothered into the comfy thing

Your son sat right beside Makoto’s sleeping face, reaching his little hand forward as he sucked on his pacifier, petting makoto’s face while your daughter worked on climbing onto his broad back she pulled on his shirt, doing the best she could but alas, couldn’t make it as she slid back down his side

Makoto stirred in his sleep until he jolted a bit to the side towards the edge, waking up from the sudden weight of his daughter, startling him

“Oh, it’s just you guys,” he sighed relieved

His heart pounded in his chest as he thought he was being attacked by some kind of monster, a sick nightmare turned reality but fortunately, he was wrong

“Morning, buddy,” Makoto smiled, his son’s eyes pulling into lines as he smiled with his pacifier in his mouth. “And morning to you princess. What’re you doing?” He asked

“She was trying to climb onto your back but couldn’t make it.”

“Aw, princess,” Makoto cooed as he turned onto his back, scooping up his little girl

He sat her on his stomach as she held onto his fingers

“Is this what you wanted?” He asked to which she happily giggled before laying herself down onto her father’s broad chest, hiding her face into his shirt

Your son seemed to not want to be left out as he attempted to crawl on too, whining a bit

“Don’t worry, I didn’t forget you,” makoto laughed a bit. “There’s plenty of room for the two of you.”

He did the same and sat his son on his abdomen, adoring them, seeing how messy their bed head hair was

Taking in the view of your family, your heart swelled twice the size but the sight also made you laugh as you looked at all three of them collectively

“What is it?” Makoto sat up a bit more, spooning his babies in his arms against him

“The three of you have bed head,” you laughed as you rolled into bed

This morning was so nice, you wish it never ended so you could stay in this precious moment with your babies and Makoto

~~~~~ Thanks for reading! Masterlist for more! Please do not repost anywhere else!

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mouthfulloftoothpasterry · 3 years

Text

A day at the farmers market with cottagecare!Harry

Summary: The styles family spends a day at the farmers market :)

warnings: possible swearing

“Morning” Harry yawns, coming downstairs, walking down the creaky steps of their cottage. “Good morning, honey” Y/n softly calls, whipping something up in the kitchen, making what looks to be a mixed berry smoothie. Harry yawns, wrapping his arms around his little girl and kissing her cheek multiple times, saying a good morning. She clings to his Henley, saying good morning to him while she smacks on her fruit.

Harry pulls his little boy out of the bassinet he was laying in, smiling down at him and kissing his forehead. “What are you making, dovie?” Harry asks, patting Forests bum. Y/n scoops out the dark purple colored smoothie like substance out of the blender, putting it in a mason jar- like almost every other thing in their kitchen. “It’s baby food,” Y/n says, holding a small multi-colored baby spoon up to Forrest's lips with the thick baby food on it. The little boy opens his mouth the smallest bit, taking the spoon in.

“My love, we can just buy that.” Harry says, making Y/n shake her head.

“And we can just buy a lot of things we make but I’m not feeding my baby’s that crap.” Y/n says, pulling Forest into her arms.

“The farmers market opens today, I want to go up there and look around then sell some of our stuff. I love doing that” Harry explains, going back over to violet and giving her a hug. The almost two year old clings to her daddy, Harry pulling her out of the chair and up into his arms, giving her a proper morning cuddle. “That would be nice. The weather is a bit rainy today though,” Y/n hums, reaching up to find a lid for the mason jar before stashing the baby food away in their vintage fridge.

Y/n sets a bowl of oats and berries down next to Harry, giving him a peck before telling Violet that she needs to finish her breakfast. Violet's face scrunches up, covering her daddy’s mouth. “Icky!” She says, making the couple laugh. “Go eat your breakfast, sweet pea” Harry says, letting her down from his arms and letting her toddle her way back over to her own seat.

“M’ I love this weather” Y/n sighs, opening a window, welcoming the fresh breeze in their stuffy cottage, the fresh scent and sound of rain now hammering through their home. “Know y’ do” Harry smiles, Y/n joining them at the wooden table, setting her own bowl down, Forest latched to her.

“It’s the perfect day to go to the farmers market, just have to dress the little ones for the colder days.” Y/n says, Harry giving her a warm sleepy smile, reaching over to give her hand a squeeze. “I bet the ducks are enjoying this” Harry adds, Y/n nodding at his words and Violet clapping her hands together while she munches on some honey covered fruit. The honey from their own bees they take care of, outside in their brood box.

“Definitely,” Y/n breaths, letting her eyes fall closed for a second to let the sound of the rain relax her before opening them back up, diving into her breakfast.

“Honey, have you seen my glasses?” Harry asks, trudging down the stairs, ready for a day at the farmers market. He’s dressed in a ribbed cotton shirt- a warm brown color, along with a pair of brown plaid pants to go with it, some daisies stitched in the pockets that he asked Y/n to add just for him, and a forest green beanie to keep his curls from getting wet- but all he needs are his glasses to finish the look. “I’ll give you two guesses, baby” Y/n says, packing some small snacks for Violet while they are gone for a good chunk of the day.

“Do you have them?” Harry asks, rounding his way to the kitchen, seeing his circle lenses on the top of her head. “How did you know?” She teases, Harry shrugging and pulling them from her and onto his eyes, pushing them up his nose.

“Let’s go,” Y/n sings, pulling Forest into her arms and pulling the diaper bag onto her shoulder. Harry reached out for his daughter, holding a hand out for her. “Come here, little one” Harry calls out for violet, she stampers over to her daddy after placing her crayons down. She reaches for his hand, Harry pulling her up instead, resting her on his hip.

They walk out of the cottage, locking the door and walking out of the gate. They walk over to their Volkswagen bus, a white and orange one. They originally got it because they both love the sixties aesthetic of it and it was a good way to haul everything from their little farm, but now they have grown to love it for more than just farm usage. “Let’s buckle you up,” Harry coos, placing Violet in her car seat while Y/n buckles Forest in his much larger car seat, making sure he is comfortable and secure. Harry makes sure Violet is comfortable before sliding the door shut and getting in the driver's seat.

“Did you bring a lot of honey?” Y/n asks, cradling Forest to her chest, patting his bum softly while Violet sets behind them, snacking on some grapes. She’s a hungry girl.

Harry nods, setting mason jars over the while fold out table that was already set up at the farmers market, under a small canopy “Yeah, and I brought some pumpkin jam too” Harry notes, setting everything up in rows, organizing them and grouping them all together neatly into their separate categories. Y/n nods, kissing Forest's hand, warming up her small baby. Harry turns, wrapping his arms around violet in a warm hug, resting his chin on top of her head. She wraps her small arms around him, giving him a squeeze. “I love you” Harry says, kissing her head.

“Love you!” Violet says, making Harry smile, kissing her cheek. Y/n holds Forest up, looking at him suspiciously. “Babe, I need to go change Forest” Y/n says, stepping out of the beige topped canopy and grabbing the diaper bag she had packed just before they left. Harry nods, pulling violet close to him. They hate that they are such ‘helicopter parents’ but they can’t help it, they both mainly work from home and they love their children more than anything in this world. “Okay, I’ll just keep Violet close to me.” Harry hums, playing with the small pig tails that spring on the top of violet's hair. “So you don’t get stolen because you are so cute!” Harry coos, making Y/n give him a strange look, walking back to their bus.

Harry sells a couple jars of honey and some strawberry jelly while they are gone, coming back with a blue knit hat on Forest’s head, a big embroidered bumble bee on the front of it. “Where did you find that, honey?” Harry asks, violet standing in front of him, playing with his wedding ring. “A lady sold it at her stand so I bought it from her” she says, tucking Forest in his car seat and giving him a small stuffed animal that has a rattle in the belly- it’s one of his favorite toys.

“Do you think he’s gonna stay blonde?” Harry asks, the boy only having a thin layer of hair coating his head, it’s a blonde color- almost just like Harry’s when he was a toddler. Even though Harry had the beautiful luscious locks that he has now he didn’t really start getting hair until he was around one year old. “Probably not,” Y/n says, holding a hand out for violet.

“Hello,” an older woman sings, making the couple turn their head, putting on a warm smile to welcome the customer. “Hi!” Violet chirps, making everyone laugh, Harry softly rubbing her back. “You two look so young! Are these your kids?” She asks, the couple nodding, Y/n trying to calm the slightly fussy baby. It’s noisy at the farmers market and Forest needs to sleep, he is only three months after all.

“How old are you two?” She makes light conversation while picking out a couple of jars of jam and a jar of honey looking over all the different items they are selling today. “I’m twenty four and she is twenty three” Harry says, the woman nodding. She looks around some more, picking out some of their fruit before letting Harry ring her up.

“So you make this all yourself?” The woman asks, looking at the mason jar with twine wrapped around the neck of it, a tag on it that reads ‘strawberry jam’ in Y/n's chicken scratch handwriting. “Yeah, we have a big garden and some bees, we make it all ourselves” he says, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose and humming while the woman hands him the money. Violet clings to his leg while he talks to the woman, her arms wrapped around his thigh and her face shoved into his leg, Harry softly rubbing her back and giving it light scratches every now and then.

“Thank you,” the woman sings before walking off, her goodies all wrapped up in a paper bag Harry had given her. “Thank you!” Harry cheers back, bending down and wrapping Violet in a hug, “‘m tired, daddy” Violet says, Harry nodding and rubbing her back, her shirt rising up and exposing her soft back. “I know, pumpkin, I know” Harry says, pulling her up on his hip and holding her close to him, letting her rest her head on his shoulder.

“Foggy,” Violet says, patting Harry’s chest. Harry nods, walking over to his wife and opening the diaper bag, finding Violets (rather large for her size) frog plushie that Harry had actually made for her. “Here, love-bug,” Harry says, Violet taking her frog in her arms and cuddling it, laying her head back on her daddy’s shoulder, trying to sleep.

“He’s asleep,” Y/n says, Harry turning and seeing his boy asleep in his car seat, mouth open. Harry chuckles, softly scratching Violets back.

A large man comes up, suspenders attached to his hefty jeans, he must be a farmer. He looks through some of their stuff, his big husky hands grabbing at one of their jars of pepper jelly. He grabs a jar of honey, some peaches, and jalapenos, setting it all down in front of Harry. “Is this all for you?” He hums, trying to be polite to the intimidating man, stuffing it all into a paper bag with the arm that wasn’t cradling Violet to his chest.

The man nods, breathing harshly through his nose. Harry nods, sliding the bag towards him, “Fourteen dollars,” he says, the man nodding and digging some money out of his dark leather wallet, plucking a few bills out and handing them to Harry.

“Thank you!” Harry chirps, shoving the money in the little tin box. The man nods, taking his bag and walking off, leaving the family alone again.

“I’d say we did pretty good today” Harry says, the day now dwindling down, finally putting the remnants of what they hadn't sold up. Their jars on a shelf and their fruit and veggies stored either on the fridge or on their big fruit and veggie baskets. “Yeah, we sold a lot. I’m just happy we still got a good chunk of our blueberry jam, Violet loves that stuff” Y/n says, making her husband nod, organizing everything to his liking.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect our lavender syrup to sell that well but the sweet old lady’s seemed to be very interested.” Harry notes, chuckling at the memories of today. Y/n nods, the warm lighting of the cottage comforting her- only candles and a few warm colored lamps to light their dark house. “Yeah, I didn’t expect anyone to buy the dandelion lemonade because of the flower but they were very interested.” Y/n says, coming up behind Harry and rubbing his knotted shoulders, rubbing out all the aches and pains from today.

“Next time let’s bring some of our baked goods, I’m sure everyone would adore your angel food cake.” Harry says, making Y/n giggle, wrapping her arms around her husband. “I only make that for you and Violet” she says, resting her head on his back and cuddling into him.

Harry’s chest rumbles with a soft chuckle, nodding as he places the last jar of pepper jelly in front of the other, “I’m sure they would love your lavender and poppy-seed muffins then” Harry adds, Y/n nodding. She does enjoy baking, especially trying out new recipes with the huge garden she has access to, fresh ingredients, eggs and fresh milk constantly coming through. Harry is the better one in the kitchen though, but she won’t admit it.

“I wanna make some sun tea tomorrow, what should I make?” Y/n asks, placing a kiss on the back of her husband's shoulder. Harry pulls her arms around himself even tighter, giving her wrists a squeeze after. “Whatever you would like, and you could add some lavender and lemon to it” he says lowly, his voice getting more deep and scratchy as the clock ticks later. He leans back into her, resting his head on the short space of her shoulder. Placing a kiss on his cheek she noses over his hairline, “yeah,”

“Let’s go to bed,” Harry says, picking up the kitten that had jumped on the kitchen counter and placing it back on the ground with a scratch to their head. “Let’s,” Y/n agrees, grabbing his hand and pulling him up the stairs, tracking up to their bedroom to start their nightly routines and head to bed.

A/n: HI! this posted early :( I think I accidentally set it to the wrong time. Thank you to everyone who read and reblogged the first part of my cottage core series, you're all so sweet, it really does mean a lot. My requests are open!! so please request some ideas for cottage core harry!!! This isn't like a consistent story, its more like blurbs that sorta go together. I have part three done already and it will be posted possible later next week since its Sunday for me now :)!!! thank you to everyone again! sorry for the early post and please request some blurb ideas for cottage core Harry :))))))

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jarofstyles · 4 years

Text

Lone Wolf V- Fir*

A/N: It’s everyones favorite alpha back at it again! but yes, we’ve received lots of requests to continue this story and we have been trying to think of what’s going to happen next. For now, a smut scene is in order. If you ask, you shall receive - n +d

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masterlist

pairing: Harry Styles x Reader

warnings: smut, exhibitionism, voyeurism, daddy!kink, werewolf stuff

word count: 7.2k

🌕🌖🌗🌘🌑🌒🌓🌔🌕

Fir trees are a symbol of honesty, truth, and forthrightness because of the way they grow straight like a tower. When grouped together they symbolize long-lasting friendship because of their evergreen display.

He made sure she ate at least 3 quarters of her food, finishing far before her. There was definitely a difference because Harry was large and always hungry, and she was smaller and definitely had less of an appetite. He was surprised to find out she liked junk food too, because she had seemingly enjoyed the healthy meals they’d been made during their mating week.

They made their way to urban outfitters once they had finished with their meal, deciding that would be the place with clothes that fitted to what Y/N was comfortable with. She didn’t even think designer was even an option, but it also wasn’t like her. Not yet anyway. This was her time to show Harry the types of outfits she liked to wear.

“Ooo okay this is cute.” Y/N picked up a chunky striped sweater. Much like she described it had earthy tones to it, “this with mom jeans is cute. Or like overalls?” She explained and went to grab the largest size because she loved the oversized look. The next thing she grabbed was completely different, “this is edgy and I love it.” Y/N beamed at the cool dress like top that had chains all over it. “You see what I mean now?” Y/N asked him, continuing to walk around the store and picking out different skirts, shirts, dresses, and pants. She’d need new doc martens and maybe some more converse. Practical shoes.

Harry was very interested in her style. Anyone else he would be rolling his eyes and yawning. But it was incredibly fascinating, seeing what his mate would pick up and then put back. What tickled her fancy and what didn’t. He could see she had quite an eclectic taste but he loved it. Especially seeing that she was making outfits with things. Harry was the bag boy, following closely behind and kneeling guard over her. He let her take her time, thoroughly intrigued when she held up two seemingly identical pieces of clothing before putting one back.

“Baby love?” He asked her. She had been in her own world for a little while. “What made you choose that one? They looked the same to me.”

Y/N was trying to be as quick as possible, not wanting to bore him but effectively pick up pieces that she knew she’d wear. He did seem to be enjoying it though, which was interesting to her because most men she knew would rather jump off a bridge than go shopping with a woman.

“Yes, bubba?” She cooed, turning her head to look at him as he went to ask a question. It was unexpected, she didn’t think he would care that much. But she definitely felt her heart swell as she looked down at the plaid pants she chose instead of the other ones. “The pattern is a little different, see these ones have wider hatch work than these. Which I think looks cooler. But I think that pattern would look good over white or grey like....” Y/N paused to look around the store. “Like these!” She squeaked and went to go grab them. “See I like these. I can’t tell you why exactly, but I guess it’s just personal preference.” Y/N shrugged. There were even a few button ups that she thought Harry would look really nice in, so she went ahead and pulled them off the rack. “How do you feel about these, for you?” She asked shyly, “I think you’d look really handsome in these. Like, really cool and stuff.”

Harry looked at the shirts. They definitely aren’t something he would have chosen on his own, but he thought they looked kind of cool. Different colors and patterns, quite loud he would say. He smiled, placing them in the basket.

“Perfect. Thank you, my love. I’ve never had those types before but they’re interesting. It’ll be fun to try it out.” This girl could ask him to get him water from mars and he’d find a way to do it.

“I think you have good taste.” He found that it opened up a new thing for her, now having Y/N look for clothes for the both of them. She was chirpy and happy to be taking clothes for him too, seeming to like the sense of purpose. “You’re quite a cool little thing, hm? I’m old. Haven’t been with the trends for years. Kept the black suits and plain dress shirts but you’ll keep me... hip? Hop? Is that what the kids these days say?” He was obviously joking but her face was priceless.

“If there are any others like this, we’ll get you those too. I think you should try adding a little color to your look. Spice things up.” Y/N shrugged, thinking he probably got bored of wearing black and white everyday. “You do look sexy in a suit though.” She hummed, leaning up to kiss him because frankly it’s been too long. “Thank you, honey. I’d like to think I’m cool.” Y/N flipped her hair behind her shoulder in a joking and playful manner. She knew he was joking but she couldn’t help but give him a small judgemental glare. “Maybe I should be calling you grandpa in bed instead.” Y/N teased, picking up another two button ups. “These are sexy.”

“Call me grandpa in bed and I’ll spank your ass.” Harry grumbled. “Wait— no. You like that. I’ll deny you of cumming.” That was something that drove her crazy. That or a bit of ignoring. She hated those. “But they’re sexy, hm? Okay. Throw them in.” He shrugged. Harry wasn’t fashion forward at all. But if Y/N said they were? Then they were. Of course, the only one he was trying to impress was her as well. So he didn’t mind dressing for her viewing pleasure. Considering he just found it necessary to get dressed he knew later on that he would be able to give her a proper show. “Truth be told— I don’t really care what I wear.” He admitted. “You’re welcome to treat me as your dress up doll. Everyday wear is fine. For meetings I’ll have to do the suits but, you’re the only one I want to impress and you seem to have an eye for the fashion thing so, have at it.”

A mischievous giggle left Y/N’s like as he mentioned how she liked spanking. Oh she did. Anytime he threatened her with a spanking he knew that it was actually a reward for her because frankly, it was hot. The sound, the feeling, everything about it was good. The orgasm denial. Oh no, that was her worst nightmare. There was nothing worse than a horny needy Y/N when she didn’t get to come. Harry had only tested the waters briefly, but she was a whiney mess. She didn’t like not getting what she wanted, spoiled brat she was.

“If that’s the case then we’ll get you things I think would look good and spice up your wardrobe, and then eventually you’ll start picking what you like on your own? How’s that?” Y/N offered, knowing she wouldn’t exactly pick his outfits everyday but for him to have clothes she bought as options would be a great start for him. She wanted to see what he would gravitate towards. “Sounds good to me.” Y/N would have fun getting him clothes and he could look good for her. It was a win win. Harry likes the idea of knowing that everything Y/N picked out was something she was approving of. It made mess stress for him internally.

This was something Harry knew many men in his pack complained about having to go shopping, but he enjoyed it. He didn’t like the other people but, getting to watch his mate be spoiled and happy and finally getting the best of the best? It was what he had needed. His wolf was soothed. Knowing thoroughly well that his mate was happy and buzzing had him purring with happiness. Y/N was sitting around the store with Harry not far behind, catching the clothing she would toss at him. He wasn’t sure what was for who but they’d figure it all out at home.

“Okay, I think I’ve gotten everything that I want.” Y/N told him, looked at all the stuff that had piled up. She knew it would take a while to bag up and ring up but she hoped that the humans didn’t mind. She would help them make their sales goal, well Harry would. She knew Harry would be excited to hear she was done in this store because it meant that they’d get to go look at lingerie. Y/N was more excited that it was another step closer to going home and having a proper cuddle with him. Who knew shopping would be so exhausting. The girl at the register was super happy to help, obviously because she saw just how many clothes she was buying. She even called for backup so the other humans didn’t have to stand around and wait. The looks she was getting were weird but she didn’t really pay attention or care. Y/N turned around and looked at Harry with a smile, “I’m excited to see you in those shirts. It will be different but fun.”

Harry could tell she was a little tired. The lingerie would be their final stop. Pulling a sleepy Y/N into his arms, he let the store team handle the scanning. It would take a while, anyways. He began to rub a hand up and down her back, giving her soothing affection. Probably didn’t help her tiredness though.

“I’m glad you seem to think so, love.” He was mainly glad because he would be pleasing her. Never in his life had he been one to want to please others. But Y/N came in and demanded it from his soul, knowing it was his purpose. He had to give her everything she deserved. No way in hell would he do anything but make her happy. His wolf wouldn’t allow it. Whenever she came into her own wolf though? That would be a field day for him. Not only would their bond intensify— but Harry's wolf would 100% push out and be happy to finally have a mate on that side too. “It’s our money now, by the way.” He said quietly. “We both are going to run the pack, and it makes me happy to see you with all the things you need.” The rising total didn’t bother him. He had a soft mate in his arms, the one that his heart beat for.

Y/N nuzzled into his chest, closing her eyes as she breathed in his scent. It was like a safety blanket. Anytime she was feeling sleepy or panicky, she’d just hug him and hold him. Nothing soothed her better. It was always Harry. She had no idea how it would be to be without him around all the time, it even scared her a little bit.

“It’s going to take some getting used to.” She told him honestly, “but once I start helping run things I won’t feel as guilty.” Y/N was used to working for everything she had. It felt weird to suddenly have everything she needed readily available and to have the money to get whatever she wanted. Y/N took the bags from the girl at the register and handed them to the guards, pushing her hair behind her ears once they had everything and took Harry’s hand in hers. She was waiting for him to lead her, her submissiveness really came out when she was tired. She just needed him to take control.

“Take these to the car.” Harry handed the bags over to 3 of the men, having only one follow. When they arrived at the store, he had him stand outside the door, not wanting him to see and think about the potential of his alpha female in her underwear. “Okay, sweet girl.” He kissed her forehead. “Gotta pick out whatever you want. We’re gonna get you whatever the hell you think will look good.” He was going to pick out some stuff too. That was exactly the type of thing that he wanted, too. Spoiling the both of them in one go. There were a variety of panties and bras, baby doll sets. All these things that Harry likes and wanted to see. “All these colors...” He trailed behind her. “What size are you?” He questioned. “Can we get you all of these?” When Harry led her straight to a boutique lingerie shop, she knew Harry was serious. They skipped over Victoria secret, no, It was clear that he wanted nothing but comfort for her. Y/N was in awe of all the options and smiled softly at the worker who had come to greet her.

“Anything I can help you with?” The woman asked, seeming to pick up on the vibe that she and Harry had and going with it. “Yes, hi. Um, relatively know my sizes, but since this is a boutique I’m assuming things fit a bit different.” Y/N started, letting the woman know her sizes for both bras and underwear. Though she didn’t like interacting with people, this was something that she needed help with. Harry would probably appreciate her going out of her way to make sure things fit properly not only for her but for his sake as well. “I’m getting everyday comfy bits, but also saucey bits. Anything really. There is no price range either.” Y/N told the worker, knowing that Harry could get a bit too intimidating to other women.

Harry stood back and let her take over. Though she didn’t know it, Y/N had the energy of an Alpha Wolf and he was proud. It was far friendlier than Harry’s but he let her take over. She had to take it and have control. He stood back and let himself watch as she was measured. He took it upon himself to look at the panties, not feeling back about it.

“Baby, what’s your size for these?” He was fingering through them. It was apparent he had a thing for lace, and light colors mixed with a few maroons and blacks. He was sure it would compliment her skin. Although he was picking up each pair in that size she had said over, placing them in the mesh shopping basket. He was getting them for his pleasures. There was something even hotter knowing that he was buying her panties to cum into, or rip off. Some of them had cool ribbons on them too, which he picked up and inspected.

“I’ll leave you to browse around. If you’d like to try anything on, there are dressing rooms in the back.” The worker added and Y/N nodded at that, thanking her before finding Harry in the store once again. “Ooo I like these..” She hummed, noticing what he had chosen. They had similar taste, she too quite liked pastels and a few bits of red and black. Could never go wrong with black. “You keep at it with these and I’ll go get all the boring ones out of the way real quick. Then we can find bras to match what you picked.” She told him, thinking that would be efficient.

This was more exciting than she had anticipated. These sets were all so pretty and of course, she wanted to pick a few that he wouldn’t know about so she could surprise him. So while he was searching through panties on his own, she went to pick out plain things and some sexy full sets, garters and everything.

“Get some of these.” Harry had gotten side tracked. There were some lacy sheer baby doll style dresses. There were many colors, a few of which Harry picked up and hung over his arm. Some with faux fur detail. He was nearly going to fall over just imagining her in them. “Yes, all of these.” He shoved them into her arms. “Gotta try them on, though. Leave the other bag out here.” Harry was eager to get her into the dressing room and see her try on some of the things he had picked out. Y/N had seemed a bit flustered. “Come on, baby.” He grinned, closing the door behind him. “I want to see them on you. The ones that look the best, we’ll buy in all the colors.” He was already half hard in his pants. Y/N just had that effect on him and being so close to her and her scent and seeing her be so confident with others and submissive with him had him going a little crazy

Y/N was a little flustered, blushing because this would be new for her. She knew that Harry would be nothing but thrilled about anything she put on, but she was still a little giddy at the thought.

“Okay, okay.” She said, biting her lip softly, “but only if you close your eyes when I’m changing because I want to see your reaction first hand.” If he watched her out then it would spoil the surprise. He already knew what she looked like naked, she wasn’t shy about that. So once she was positive he closed his eyes, she picked out something that she liked best, deciding to save the one she thought would send Harry last. Who knows though, she could be surprised by him.

It was cute and dainty, vintage looking almost, a light pink fairy floss color. It didn’t leave much for the imagination, but she loved it. Y/N already felt confident in it, and could tell this was a must buy. “What do you think, daddy?”

Harry was excited, closing his eyes as she asked. Y/N was beautiful in his clothes but, he knew she would amaze him in anything she wore. Lingerie would be a whole different level though.

When he opened his eyes? He nearly drooled. Y/N looked ravishing. Confident, but that only taunted his wolf even further. Telling him to go and make the little mate submissive and eager to please. Soft pink with gold accents, it highlighted her skin beautifully. He was going to buy every single version of the outfit.

“You look fucking amazing.” He said bluntly, watching her move and face the mirror again. Standing behind her, he ran his hands down her body. Starting from her ribs, he trained them down to her hips and held on tighter, a soft growl given to her in reward for looking so good.

“But you know you look amazing, my love. We’re getting every available option of this.” He played with the waistband of the panties.

Y/N wasn’t exactly sure why she was so nervous, but watching his face change made butterflies erupt in her stomach. He liked it, and she liked it. It made her feel so good. She couldn’t help but feel even more confident in that moment. Goosebumps formed on her skin at his touch, feeling herself get excited from the way he gripped at her hips. Y/N didn’t want to make a mess in her brand new panties, but he was definitely pushing her towards it.

“Yeah?” She smirked, “you like this one a lot then. Scale of 1-10?” Y/N was going to ask him every time. She noticed how much lace he selected and decided to keep that in mind. It was obvious that he loved teasing himself just as much as he loved teasing her. “I have more to show you. Sit.” Y/N cooed, the command having no bite behind it really. She just wanted to show him more and hurry up so that they could go home and play.

“10.”

Harry loved her attitude. He really did. Y/N was giving him a run for his money and he welcomed it. Her body was giving him every bit that he needed to lose control however, he could tell that she was anxious to show him more of the outfits. A groan left him when he got to looking at her again. This time the material was darker and lace with ribbons and it was perfect. Cut perfectly, cupped her immaculate tits amazingly. He was very much in love with this one too.

“Love that. I could make you soak through it in minutes.” His smirk was wicked but he was all too serious. Harry has a good power over Y/N, and that way he could make the girl drip like a fountain whenever he felt the need. “I really love it.” He was tempted to take her up against the wall. At least lick her out for being so good. She really was a good girl and deserves it for being so good all day. Didn’t she?

“Could make me soak through anything in minutes, daddy. Seconds, actually.” Y/N hummed, staying at a distance from him despite wanting to touch him. If she got anywhere near him now she wouldn’t be able to get off. So she held herself back for the time being. “Okay, I have one more style I want to try on, and then we can wrap this up yeah?” Y/N needed to get home, now. This last outfit would probably be the nail in the coffin and Harry would be equally on board to go home. She expected him to speed home and just take her as soon as they got home. Y/N knew that the outfit she was about to put on could very much send them, but she was ready for it. Slipping on all the components efficiently and hoping that they stayed intact. It was black and mesh, a top and bottom piece that connected with garters and even a little skirt. “Open.”

Harry wanted to rip it off. In a good way— of course. But he was hanging on by a thread. The way she looked in it. Like his good little girl... gone bad. He wanted to spank her ass up and finger her until she was begging for cock. That was so tempting. He was silent, but sent her a look. A mere look that she would know meant to take it off because they were going home. In case she missed it though, he spoke.

“Take it off. We’re checking out.” The energy between them hit heavy and he wanted to completely ravage his mate, pound her out until she was a mess again but he knew it was the same with her. They had the same taste, thank god. It was obvious she knew that she had gotten to him fully with her smirk, but he watched her take it off with intensity. “Don’t rip it. My job.”

“Yes, sir.” Y/N had done her job successfully. It was clear that she had done exactly what she had set out to do and she loved it. Y/N started taking it off quickly, still being carefully, but the comment that he made made her shudder. She wanted him now. She changed back into her clothes and took all the sets with her, out to the check out where the worker was already ringing the things that Y/N had previously picked out as a secret. “These too, please.” Y/N asked, an urgency present in her voice.

The worker probably knew why she was in such a rush, especially with the tension that had built between Y/N and Harry. It was impossible to deny. She couldn’t stand straight, she was already feeling her pussy throb just from thinking about what was about to happen when they got home.

Harry knew it was fairly obvious that they needed to fuck but the cashier was lucky that they hadn’t in the dressing room. That’s for another day. Right now, he wanted to spread her legs for him and dip his cock straight in. In truth? This was the longest they’d gone without fucking in days. They’d wake up from naps and have another round, eat some food, another round, shower, oral, all of that. He was loving it every time, too But now they had been away from their bodies too long and he needed a taste, her pussy on his cock, and he needed it as soon as possible. It was like he couldn’t breathe without it. While the cashier rang it up, Harry spoke quiet but filthy into her ear.

“I’m going to fuck you as soon as I can get into you.” He muttered. “The couch... probably gonna bend you over that. Doesn’t really matter anymore, does it? If someone walks in... can keep on walking. Not gonna stop for anything.” Y/N was reacting, pressing back into him. “I’d take your pussy right now if I could.”

No one could ever prepare for things like this. What do you do when your life partner talks dirty to you when you’re in public and facing a stranger? Y/N was used to being vocal, she bit back a response because humans truly wouldn’t understand. Her knees weakened at the thought of him of him fucking her over the couch. God, she really didn’t realize how much she enjoyed the thought of people watching them until it was happening. The cashier gave her a look, but Y/N only smiled in response. It seemed like she was taking forever, but finally she had finished packing everything up.

“Have fun, enjoy.” The woman spoke and Y/N blushed.

“We will thank you.” She responded quickly and let Harry take the bags to bring to the guards.

They needed to get home before she exploded. Y/N felt like she’d burst at any second, already feeling her arousal pool. “Please hurry daddy.” She whimpered, looking at him with pleading eyes. God she just needed to be ruined.

“Of course, angel.” Harry cooed. Oh, his little sweet thing. He was just as damn horny, working his way back to the car as quickly as possible. And he decided that it was a good time to use Y/N’s eagerness to please for their own advantage. They were halfway home when Harry stopped at a light, unbuckling his belt. Y/N looked at him in question but seemed to clue in when he took his cock out. He needed some goddamn relief, and he wanted to see her do as he asked. “Suck.” Thankfully she was behaving today, because he watched her scramble slightly to get to his cock. It was soon he felt the warm tongue licking over it, making him sigh in pure relief. “Good girl. Get it nice and wet. As soon as m’inside I’ll bend you over the couch and take care of your precious cunt.”

Every time Y/N thought their sex life couldn’t get any better, they always did something that had her even more excited than before. She really did mean it when she told him it only got better, and he really underestimated himself in saying it couldn’t get better than the first time. He didn’t need to ask her twice. She was ready and willing, scrambling into position and guided his cock into her mouth. Though she didn’t like that she couldn’t see his expressions, she was still glad she could hear him. Y/N always needed some kind of stimulus to show her that he was enjoying it. She worked her mouth over the tip, her hand pumping all that she couldn’t comfortably fit in her mouth. She couldn’t exactly deep throat him while driving, she felt like that could be dangerous for the both of them. Y/N was happy to suck his cock though, enjoying it more and more each time.

Harry was coming to realize there was nothing like Y/N’s mouth. It wasn’t that she was super experienced or skilled— no, she was still learning. But that’s what made it even better. How she was learning to take his cock alone and now to please it exactly. His taste. Never for anyone else. It was a slow and steady pump with her hand and her mouth suckling firmly on the tip, letting a bit or drool roll down the shaft so it was a bit messier than one would normally do. Something she had learned they’d both liked a few times in.

“You’re so good to me. Good girl.” He held her hair with his free hand, multitasking by looking at the road and letting the pleasure roll over in waves as his mate nursed on his cock.

Y/N moaned against his cock, pulling off to lick up the side of it. “I love your cock, daddy.” She let out a breathy moan, genuinely getting turned on by the whole scene. She felt like she was in a porno but in the best way. She was so eager to please him, so excited to have his cock in her mouth. She couldn’t wait till they got home. Y/N knew he would stay true to his word as he always did and would bend her over the couch. It was true that wolves were rather open sexually, walking in on someone fucking or even touching someone in a way that was step over human PDA was normal. She knew this to be a fact however being so locked in all the time made it so she wasn’t exposed to it the way most wolves were. Y/N continued to suck his cock like it was the last thing she’d ever get to do, wanting to make sure he felt good, but not too much that he’d cum right then and there. She wanted him not be able to stop himself from fucking her as soon as they stepped into the house.

Harry hated to pull her off of his cock. Hated it. But he needed to get her inside so he could properly mount and fuck her. Get deep and make her realize how much he found her beautiful. How much he loved her. He had sloppily tucked himself into his pants before he rounded the car to grab her from it. He didn’t let her feet hit the ground as he moved, gripping her body to him as he walked towards the door. There was no singular fuck given if anyone was there either. The moment he knocked the door in with his foot, he felt himself get a bit feral as he spotted the couch and growled in his throat. That's where he would take her. It was easy to manhandle her, flopping her over the arm of the couch as he yanked and rugged at clothing, stepping out of his pants.

“Stay there.” He ordered. “Stay bent and spread your legs. Let me see your cunt.” His hands grabbed the soaked crotch of the panties and ripped them with ease, letting them fall to the ground. The whole room was filled with the scent of arousal and slick, his cock aching to be inside of her. “You’re going to take me. Lay over this couch and let your mate knot and fill you.” Harry grumbled from his chest, getting between her thighs and running his cock through her slippery folds. “Understand me? Going to be loud. Don’t give a singular fuck if someone comes in. You stay loud.”

“Yes, Daddy.” Y/N let out a strained whimpered, blood rushing to her head from the way she was bent over but she loved it. She reached to grab a pillow to put under her head, resting her head to the side so she could still manage to sneak glances up at her lover. She was already dripping down her thighs, it really hadn’t taken much, then again it never seemed to. Their bodies were fully synced and whenever he became overwhelmed with lust, so did she and vice versa. Another loud whine followed as she realized he was taking his good old time with teasing her. “Daddy!” Y/N sounded utterly pathetic, like a child who was being ignored, seconds away from a tantrum. “Daddy, please— I was a good girl for you!” She wiggled her bum in attempts to nestle her wet cunt further on to his hardening cock. “Please, please, please, please!” Her breathy pleas echoing throughout the room. The neediness only intensified when she heard footsteps approaching.

“You’re a good girl for asking so sweetly.” Harry grinned widely, canine teeth extended just a bit from the amount of arousal he felt. God, he was so gone for her. Adored every bit of her. Body and mind, it was perfection. He finally slipped in, and he could feel the stretch. Her cunt was so incredibly tight and he could feel her struggle still, even just a bit to get him inside. A growl sounded, Harry sliding in before he got impatient and forced in harder. She let out a weak squeal, and he watched her cunt tremor around him. Slick and hot, he never got tired of just how perfect her pussy was. It made him insane. The taste, the smell, the feeling. All of it was perfection. “That’s my girl. Still struggle to get my cock all the way in.” He chuckled lowly, pressing in and out, not caring about any footsteps. “Gave me the perfect pussy when they chose you as my mate. Mine.” He let out a little snarl as his hands flexed on her waist, pulling her back towards his cock. Every time she would pull off slightly, he saw just how wet she had gotten him with the glistening of her slick. “So wet. So tight. All fucking mine.” He hissed, pulling it into overdrive as he began to fuck into her hard. Slow. Deep thrusts that made her lose her breath and jostled her. He wanted to fuck the air out of her.

“We just can’t have—” Niall paused one his tracks at the sight, seeing the alpha and his mate had made it home and made themselves at home. He was just telling Claire off, explaining to her that if there were any more of her outbursts she’d be stripped of her duties and rights to live in the king’s mansion.

Y/N let out a bark, reminiscent of a small pup. Harry was stretching her, filling her and giving her all he had to give. Her eyes were crossing at the pleasure, the sheer need for his cock inside her having taken over completely.

“Yours, it’s yours, my alpha...” It seemed like with each time they had sex the two of them grew more bound, more needy and desperate for one another. It felt better and that felt impossible.

Niall raised a brow, looking over at Claire and seeing her expression sour once again. “Oi, boys!” He called over to the other three men who had just entered. As if the whole house didn’t smell of her arousal. Everyone was coming to watch.

“Oh—” Y/N moaned, her cunt clenching against him with every sweet and slow thrust he supplied. “Feels so good... so full, fuck!” She gasped for air and reached for one of his hands, moving it over her tummy. “Feel you, here.”

“Yes. S’where it belongs.” Harry felt even better doing this, claiming her in front of everyone and letting them see that their alpha did in fact, treated their alpha female as he should. She would be the only one taking his cock. “Only cunt I want.” He made sure that any females heard it. He wasn’t the one alpha to take on other lovers. His mate was enough for his sexual needs. He grabbed her throat and pulled her up, fucking hard into her, purring into her ear. “Showin’ all of them how daddy fucks you good and deep. You like it hm? Like when people can see how good you’re getting fucked? That you’re a little slut for my cock?” He rasped. “Gonna let them see you get split open by my knot. I think you’ll love that. My perfect girl, let me feel.” He placed a hand on her stomach, and he groaned. “Can feel it. It’s all gonna be in here, gonna be locked in. Forced to take all my cum.”

The second Harry lifted her up by the neck Y/N made eye contact with Claire, Niall, and a few of the guards. A smirk came onto her face, letting out an extra loud moan and exaggerated her facial expression just for Claire to see. She wouldn’t be getting fucked like this not by him.

“Yes! Yes! Yes! Daddy— you fuck me so good! Only me.” She growled rather loudly considering she hadn’t done that since well... this morning. Her wolf seemed to respond well to being challenged. Under the right circumstances of course and being constantly reassured by her mate. It worked wonders. Y/N could feel her thighs giving in, the sound of him thrusting in and out of her sopping cunt making her body react. A sharp pain was felt in her mouth, a feeling she’d never felt before but she ignored it, too overwhelmed by the pleasure her mate was giving her. “Harder, daddy! Harder, please! please!”

Harry knew she was the one for him originally but it felt even better to know that she was happy to show him off too. That she only ever wanted him to be with her. And her to be with him.

“God, I adore you.” He muttered, pushing her back down into the couch. He was in what you’d call the breeding position. Face down, ass up, easily held down but his strong force. He was going to wreck her. “That’s my girl. Fucking take it.” He snarled, holding on her hip while the other held her down, pounding into her cunt. The sound was sloppy and wet and the mix of both of their noises was delicious. It was arousing and interesting to watch to the people observing but Harry wasn’t going to hold back because of that. It only made him want to go harder and prove every bit of ownership he had over her. His sweet little mate.

Y/N let out a giggle at his proclamation. She loved being adored. She liked having eyes on her it seemed. She felt powerful despite giving it up to her mate. The men in the room were very much hard, Claire couldn’t seem to keep her eyes off of them despite the angered look on her face. Y/N liked putting on a show. Before she knew it she was back, face down on the couch.

“More!!” She threw her ass back as far as she could, another whimper coming from her at the feeling. He was deep. “Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy!” Her chants were muffled by the pillow, another hard thrust resulting in a scream. She bit down on the pillow, needing some sort of relief for the pain in her teeth. Her knees began to buckle from the pleasure, her hands gripping at the pillow beneath her so tight she felt the seams would burst. “Gonna knot in me, daddy? Gonna knot in my tummy and let it drip out of me?” Y/N was desperate for it, her cunt throbbing around his cock.

“Fuck, you’re filthy.” Harry couldn’t get over how well matched they were and the fact that every word that passed his little mates mouth had him nearly growling with pleasure. Yes. She knew how to get to him. “M’gonna fill you with my knot. My soft little angel, you’re gonna be full for so long.” He got so amped up with each proclamation of wanting his knot and every squeal of his name from her. She loved calling him daddy and he loved when she did even more. She was incredible. He gripped her tightly as he fucked her onto his cock, feeling the genuine sparks of dirty pleasure overtake him. The mix of the eyes on them, the squelching from her dripping cunt, the way she begged for it began to get too much. He could feel his knot coming.

“Yeah? Gonna fill me? Gonna stuff me with your cum? Gonna let me taste it when it drips out?” Y/N spoke lowly, feeling like she was going to burst at the seams. She was so close, so close to the brink all he had to do was give her that one extra push. A word, a smack on the ass, a groan of his own. Y/N could fall apart in seconds all because of him. She could feel everyone staring, watching. Some men definitely having a feel of themselves based on the unfamiliar grunts coming from the farther side of the room. Y/N was happy to know her arousal masked that of Claire’s, the scent didn’t appeal to her and she assumed it would appeal to Harry either. That feeling of power gave her the kick she didn’t realize she needed. Y/N made sure she was as far back as she could be, moved her ass and clenched in alignment with his thrusts and fuck was she horny mess. A layer of sweat covered her body underneath the clothes she still had on, her muscles twitching as if they knew what was coming. “Please daddy! Let me cum! I wanna to cum for you! Please let me make a mess for you, all over you! Please daddy!”

With one hard rough smack to her ass, Harry grabbed a fist full of her hair and lifted her head so he could kiss sloppily at her neck. He returned his hand to her neck, thrusting his hips up into her at an intensely quick pace.

“Cum. Now.” He demanded with a snarl, “Let them see your pretty face, let them see how good their Alpha treats their queen.” Harry’s tone was powerful. With every thrust he wished he could go deeper, harder, faster into her tight cunt, the sounds of her screams of pleasure soothing his wolf within. The minute he felt her body begin to shake, he smiled against her hair, pressing a firm kiss to the back of her head as she came undone for him. “That’s it… all over me…”

Y/N could feel his knot forming and with a few more heavy thrust she felt completely and entirely full. There was nothing that could possibly compare to the feeling. Every muscle in her body relaxed as hot cum began to spill inside her. She felt true bliss, true power, knowing that everyone was watching him stake his claim. Whimpers and mewls escaped from her mouth, but Harry was quick to soothe and comfort her, pressing sweet loving kisses to her skin.

“My mate… my angel… such a good girl you are…” Harry cooed, pushing all her hair to one side so he could nose at her jaw. He took in her scent, closing his eyes and truly feeling the moment, hearing everyone begin to make their way out of the den to give the two some privacy. Yes, intimate moments such as these were much more private than the act of sex itself. “Let’s go upstairs hmm? Run a nice bath… Can take a nap afterwards, how does that sound?” He mumbled in her ear.

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A/N: Where do you think we should go with them? also, would you like to see other werewolf!harry stories? let us know what you think! - n + d

masterlist

#writing #harry styles smut #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles #harry writing #werewolf!harry #alpha!harry #jarofstyles

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wasabipeas · 4 years

Text

Two People, One bed troupe~

Daichi Sawamura x reader

TW: mentions of sexual thoughts and sound but nothing directly involved

More or less fluff

Sorry if you find mistakes I wrote this based off a daydream (_ _).｡o○

Word count: ~1k

Context:You had met Daichi and Sugawara through your friend, sugawara being her boyfriend, and you guys had decided to go on an overnight trip together over winter break.

“Two rooms, numbers 108 and 305” The desk person says bluntly as she hands us 4 keys in pairs of two. Suga takes them from her and starts towards the hallway on the ground floor.

“ so 108 should be…” he turns the corner and holds out his hand towards a door, “right here”. He smirks and your friend giggles at his cheekiness.

“ So the ability to find a hotel room is also one of your skills.” She follows him into the hotel room. He places his bag down on the couch and smiles at you and Daichi left in the hall. He takes the key to the second room and winks before throwing it at daichi and slamming the door in your faces. “Good luck” your friend yelps followed by a series of erotic sounds.

You stare blankly at daichi and he shrugs. “ Guess we’re roommates for the night” you nod in agreement and follow him as he makes his way to the elevator.

He taps the key card onto the doors pad and it beeps and whirs as it unlocks. He pushes the door open and places his bag down on the small couch by the door. You follow suit and slide off your purse and jacket, slipping them onto the hooks on the back of the door as Daichi starts scanning the room.

“Uhh y/n” you hear Daichi call from the other end of the room.

You sigh tiredly and walk towards his voice, stopping when you realize.

“There’s only one bed” he whispers, turning towards you.

“Mmmm” you hum.

“I’ll take the couch then.” He says as he turns back towards the door.

“ that tiny thing? Your legs will hang over.” You gesture towards the obvious size difference between the two of you,

“I’ll sleep on the couch so you can take the bed.” You walk over to him.

“It’s ok you take the bed y/n You’re obviously worn out. I'd like for you to get a proper night of rest.”

“ no I’ll be fine on the couch it seems comfortable.” You huff back.

“I insist,” he mutters.

You shoot him a glare.

“ I don’t want you sleeping on that thing, it's tiny.”

“ I don’t want you sleeping there, it's uncomfortable.” He meets your gaze and you sigh.

“ How about we just share the bed, it's big enough and we’re both obviously wiped out.”

“Ok,ok, fine.” He’s sighs rubbing the back of his neck.

He begins to dig through his backpack and pulls out a pair of pajama pants and a bag of toiletries.

“ I’ll go get ready in the bathroom you change out here.” You hear the click of the lock on the bathroom door and the sound of the faucet. You sigh once again, heading towards your own bag and pulling out your pajamas, a thin pair of sleep shorts and an oversized tee that basically goes all the way down to your knees.

Carefully slipping out of your worn out clothes and into the soft fabric you sigh at the feeling of comfort. You yank out your phone and it’s charger and plop down on the bed scrolling down your social media feed. As you sink further down into the numerous pillows that line the headboard, Daichi calls out,

“ You done changin y/n?”

“ Yeah come on out.” you reply.

The door clicks as he turns the doorknob and walks out in his basic ass pajamas, red plaid pajama pants and a plain black tee. You giggle quietly at the sight of it.

“What’s so funny?” He asks yawning and sliding under the bedsheets on the opposite side of the bed.

“Nothing” you chuckle. He hums switching off the side lamp and turning into his side facing you. You smile at him.

“ I like your shirt,'' he whispers, closing his eyes.

“Thanks” you whisper back, turning off the other lamp and sliding under the sheets. It was comfortable, not just because of the bed.

A thin ray of sunlight creeps in through the gap between the curtains. You yawn softly burying your head deeper into your pillow.

Not a pillow.

A hand softly brushes back and forth in your hair. You jolted at the feel of it and lifted your head up to see that you in fact we’re using Daichi’s chest as a pillow. He had one arm wrapped around you, the other subconsciously running through your hair.

He was still asleep.

You tried to wriggle out of his grasp but his hold was firm. He was too strong even when unconscious. You sighed, giving up and resting your head back down on him. His soft snores and steady heartbeat were all you could hear. You weren’t uncomfortable, you two were close but this felt a bit too intimate for two friends.

You felt your cheeks heat up as improper thoughts swarmed through your mind. You closed your eyes and pressed your face against his shirt trying to shake them away. Slowly drifting into sleep.

He woke up warm, warmer than usual. His eyes opened to the bright sunlight filling the room. It took him a second to realize the position the two of you were in. Startled he let you out of his killer grasp, but you stayed in place with your arms wrapped around him. He blushed like crazy at your sleeping face.

So peaceful. So gentle. So you.

His feelings that he had buried away when you had gotten a new boyfriend last year slowly emerged once again. You weren’t together with your ex anymore, this is ok, he thought to himself trying to calm his heartbeat. You turned your head comfortably and sighed tightening your grasp around him.

His heart skipped a beat.

#haikyu x reader #daichi x you #daichi sawamura #daichi x y/n #anime #haikyuu #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu!!#hq #hq imagines #daichi fluff #hq daichi #hq x reader

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rosyfingereddawnn · 3 years

Text

only the black rose (chapter 7)

pairing: jimmy page x layla porter (oc)

warnings: descriptions of vomiting, borderline nsfw, a hobbit reference, fluff as always

words: 4.3k

summary: in the blink of an eye, it’s 1975 and layla’s suddenly joining led zeppelin for their north american tour. throughout the chaos, the band take a liking to her, she builds friendships with the boys, and love blossoms. but all good things must come to an end.

author’s note: y’all are gonna think these bad things didn’t happen but like. tour straight from hell or something. anyways! a few chapters left, and then this baby is done. I’M SORRY THIS IS A BEEFY CHAPTER IT’S IMPORTANT FOR PLOT STUFF kinda. hope you all enjoy :)

masterlist

playlist

chapters: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6

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“As long as I don’t have to room with Pagey over here, I’m fine with anything.”

“Hey! Bonzo, come on!”

“What? You snore.”

Touching down in Detroit, the band drives down to the hotel, set on a good night’s sleep before a crucial performance. Stuck in the lobby, jetlag slowing their movements as their eyes drift shut briefly, they attempt to sort out the rooms for their stay. With three rooms available, the five of them work out who gets the coveted single room.

“I think Jimmy and Robert should take a room together: everyone already thinks they’re together anyways. I’ll take the solo room.”

Robert squawks in surprise, which turns into a full-blown coughing fit, as he nearly doubles at the waist from the force. Layla brings a hand to his back, rubbing a soothing circle into the fabric of his light shirt. How he wasn’t shivering in the face of Detroit in January was beyond her. The coughing finally ceases, and Robert sucks in a breath, breathing ragged from the strain.

“Are you alright, Robert?”

“Of course, little dove,” Robert answers, patting the hand that now rests on his shoulder. “My throat is just a tad dry, I bet.”

“Okay…”

“If you don’t mind,” Robert moves toward the sitting area behind them, casting a hand out dramatically to show it off, as though it were the height of luxury. “I’ll be over here, resting my weary legs.”

With a puzzled glance towards Robert, the group continues bickering.

“Jonesy, you know Jimmy’s gonna want to room with his petal,” Bonzo says, emphasizing the nickname, and Layla didn't even need to see his face to detect the smirk that was surely playing on his lips. “Robert can room with you, so I can have the solo room.”

“Excuse me, do we not get a say in this?” Jimmy asks, hands gesticulating wildly as he speaks. His cheeks are suspiciously flushed, as if he was embarrassed by Bonzo’s teasing. He’d never admit it, but the pink flooding his cheeks serves as evidence.

“Nope.” Jonesy and Bonzo reply in unison.

Robert, uncharacteristically silent, slithers up behind them, standing from his post on the comfortable lobby chair. Spotted by the concierge at the front desk, he puts a long finger up to his lips, and sticks a hand towards the solo room key that rests on the counter. Snatching it up with practiced ease, Robert smirks, and walks carefully back to his seat. Layla, casting an eye over the remaining keys, notices the disappearance, and locks eyes with the rest of the band.

“Guys… Where’d the solo key go?”

“What?”

“It was— It was just here!”

“Well,” Robert stretches as he stands, unfurling his long limbs. Raising his hand, the stolen key dangling from it like precious, golden treasure, he steps backwards jauntily. “I had better get to my room, now. It’s been lovely chatting.”

With that, he’s off, scrambling for the elevators, leaving his friends in the dust. Bonzo and Jonesy share a glance, and lunge for a key, walking away from the couple, who look after them with wide eyes.

“Do I really snore that bad?”

“I mean…”

“I’m injured, that means you can’t be mean to me.”

“Since when has that stopped me? Also,” Layla pauses, turning to Jimmy, unconsciously taking his hand in her own. “You took a pill before we left the venue, right? You’re not in pain?”

“I took one, but… I’ll be fine.”

“Jimmy—”

“Come now, let’s go find our room.” The guitarist pulls her towards him, resting an arm across her shoulder as they walk to the elevator. Idle chatter follows as they walk to their shared room. Unlocking the door, Jimmy pulls it open, to discover a finely furnished room, with a sitting area accented by maple wood. The blinds were pulled back to reveal a view of downtown Detroit, dark sky bringing the city to life. The only thing out of place, however, was the bed. A single, queen-sized bed, clothed in a tan comforter, sat in the middle of the room. The couple glance at each other, and, finding the other looking right back, force their eyes elsewhere. Layla, fishing a pair of pyjamas out of her suitcase, moves to the bathroom to change into the ensemble: a pair of grey shorts, and an old threadbare t-shirt, at least two sizes too big. Walking out of the ensuite, her eyes fall upon Jimmy, laying on one side of the large bed, dressed in green plaid pajama pants, and a soft cotton top. His head turns as he hears the woman approach, and he gives her a sweet smile. Layla climbs into the bed, turning to face him.

“You look cozy.” Jimmy says, nudging her lightly as she laughs.

“As do you. I would’ve expected you to be dressed in a black satin ensemble, if I’m being honest.”

The laugh that flies out past Jimmy’s cupid’s bow lips warms Layla to the core, and she can’t help but slide closer to the man.

“And why is that?”

“Your image, it’s just very… mysterious. It’s a good thing I know the truth, now,” She leans closer to him, slotting her head into the junction of his neck, resting on his shoulder. “You’re just a softie.”

“You’d be surprised, petal.”

“I’m sure.”

As they drift off, falling asleep to the sound of each other’s heartbeat, they can’t help but feel at home. Their arms wrap around each other, legs tangling together as they sleep soundly.

----------

The morning sun bright against her eyelids, Layla nuzzles further into Jimmy, black hair tickling her nose. All is tranquil, until a deep rumble pierces the fragile silence: her stomach. Layla extricates herself from Jimmy’s lax grip, and changes into a colourful button-up, tucked into a pair of dark flared jeans. Intent on taking the hotel up on their offer of a continental breakfast, she rushes down to the lobby. It’s when she passes the men’s restroom on the main floor, that she hears it. A groan, muffled through the closed door. This is followed by harsh dry-heave, as if someone had been throwing up.

“Uh… Excuse me, sir, ” She knocks on the door, hoping that whoever was in there could hear her voice. “Are you… okay in there?” Seconds pass, until a familiar voice breaks the tense silence.

“...Layla?”

“Robert?”

“Fancy…” A gasp stops him in his tracks as he chokes once more. Layla can imagine the scene: Robert kneeling on the floor, face pressed to the cool tiles, whatever he had in his stomach lost to the porcelain throne. Finally recovered, he tries again. “Fancy meeting you here, little dove.”

“Robert, I’m coming in.”

Opening the door, she’s met with an unpleasant smell, and the sight of blonde curls falling across hunched shoulders. Kneeling down beside the sick man, she puts a hand to his back, the other rushing to hold his hair back. He puts a hand on her thigh, the only part of her he could reach in that particular position, and gives it a light squeeze in thanks. A few seconds pass as Robert coughs out some more, until, spent, he sits back against the wall of the tiny stall he had run into.

“Are you okay, now? What happened?”

“I was… hankering for some breakfast, maybe a spot of tea, and I got halfway through a helping of eggs,” Robert explains, leaning his head on Layla’s shoulder, exhaustion lining his tan face. Somehow, he had kept his hair out of the way before she had gotten there, and it was as lush and as soft as ever. “When my stomach decided, ‘maybe eggs aren’t the best choice for today.’”

“Were you feeling like this yesterday?”

“Had a cough yesterday, wasn’t feeling sick, though. Must be a simple flu.” Layla maneuvers to place a hand on the man’s forehead, which feels as though it may just scorch her palm.

“Robert, you’re burning up!”

“I’m okay, little dove.”

“What is with you boys and saying you’re fine, when you’re clearly not?”

“It’s a habit…” Robert trails off, head slipping lower, chin touching his chest. He’s about to pass out, eyelashes fluttering gold under the harsh restroom lights, when Layla nudges him.

“I’m up, I’m up…”

“Robert, I need to go get you some help. Stay here, don’t move. I’ll be right back.” Layla sits up, just about to get to her feet when an overly warm hand grabs hers.

“Layla, don’t go…”

“Robert,” she starts, running a soft hand through his unruly curls. The singer melts into her side, eyes drooping. “I’ve gotta get someone. Please, just… stay here. Do not move.”

She jumps to her feet, rushing out of the bathroom in search of someone that can help. Turning the corner hastily, she nearly runs into Peter, who had been making his way to breakfast, Bonzo at his side. Stopping the men in their tracks with a hand held out in front of her, Layla relays the situation.

“Guys, Robert’s got the flu, and he’s been throwing up,” Layla points to the bathroom sheltering the blond in question, and turns back to the two men, who look frazzled by her rambling. “Please, can you get him up to his room? I’m gonna get him some Gatorade, something to help hydrate him.”

Immediately, Layla’s eyes widen at the slip, though the men think nothing of it, passing her with a nod and scurrying into the bathroom to retrieve the singer. Walking to the vending machine in the lobby, Layla places a number of loose coins, dug up from the depths of her jean pockets, into the slot and punches the button painted with the design of a lightning bolt. The machine rumbles, and Layla soon holds in her hand a can, labelled ‘Gatorade’. Huh, she thinks, it seems that some things remain the same after all.

Dashing to Robert’s room, she finds him tucked into his bed, bare-chested. Layla sets the drink down, sitting on the edge of the man’s bed. Her fingers begin to thread through his hair once more, and he stirs.

“Layla?”

“Yeah, it’s me, Rob.”

“Isn’t… Isn’t Jimmy gonna be jealous?”

“Go to sleep, Plant. You’ll be okay.”

“But…”

The woman shushes him, and he relaxes into her touch, drifting off finally. Layla stays, guarding the man, until he wakes up. The Gatorade sitting on the bedside table goes warm, Layla too preoccupied with the bedridden blond.

----------

Layla, leaving the sick vocalist in Peter’s capable hands, walks out of the room with a yawn. He should be okay, though the same might not be true for his voice. If she thought it had been a little hoarse yesterday, it was nothing compared to when he had awoken. Thoughts occupied, she had almost walked right into Jonesy, who had just turned the corner. Layla startles at the touch of a hand on her shoulder, and looks up into Jonesy’s eyes.

“Sorry, Jonesy. Guess I was a little distracted.”

“No worries. Is Robert okay? Bonzo just told me.”

Layla looks towards the closed door of Robert’s room, scratching the back of her neck. Turning back to Jonesy, she nods, smiling at the bassist.

“He should be okay, yeah. His voice might be a little rough, and he’s got a bit of a fever, but it’ll pass.”

“That's great to hear! Oh, Layla,” Jonesy starts, bringing his voice down to a whisper as to not alert anyone to their conversation. “Can we talk about something quickly? It’s about the… time travel… thing.”

Layla nods, and follows Jonesy into his room, the bassist flicking on the lights. Bonzo had been with Robert ever since they’d brought him up, so the hotel room was completely empty. Perfect for a private conversion. Sitting on the bed closest to the eggshell wall, Jonesy turns to face Layla, his hands fiddling with one another.

“I may have found some answers. It’s not much, but…”

Layla jerks, stunned by the admission, as her mouth opens and closes, doing her best impression of a fish out of water. She shakes her head, willing herself to respond, as Jonesy patiently waits.

“Wh-What? How? Jonesy, you—”

“Do you remember how, when we first talked about this, I had mentioned that guitarist? The one that had the same thing happen to him?”

“Yeah, you said he’d just vanished, listening to some playback?”

Jonesy nods, giving the woman a kind smile. He looks down at his hands again, and continues.

“Layla… What do you remember about the day you came here?”

“I was just getting ready for work,” Layla recounts, her face a picture of confusion. “When the turntable I have in my room started playing out of the blue.”

“It… It started playing on it’s own?”

“It started playing this song… I swear I don’t even have it on vinyl, but the lyrics were… they were beautiful. I reached out to stop it, and… then I was in the middle of the road.”

Jonesy fidgets again, eyes flitting around the room as he works out the best way to present his findings. Finally, he catches her gaze, and takes a small hand in one of his. Layla looks up at him, worry gleaming in her dark eyes as she waits for him to speak.

“The other day, I placed a call to my old friend, asking about his experience. He said… He said that the playback started on its own. He didn't push a single button.”

“But that means that…”

“...That this… time travel, seems to happen almost randomly.”

“The music. That’s what starts it… Did he say anything else?”

Jonesy looks down, shaking his head, his short hair flopping across his forehead. Looking back at Layla, he smiles apologetically.

“He wasn’t very forthcoming about what happened… though he did sound… sad? When it happened, he did mention a girl... I’m not sure exactly how this works, or why it works, but, Layla… He told me he had been there for years. He was…”

“Jonesy?” Layla calls his name, the man in question jolting, having gotten lost in the labyrinth of his thoughts. Locking eyes with the woman beside him, he continues, tone serious.

“He was gone for three days. If this is the same situation, I doubt you’ll have been gone for more than two days at most, when you go back.”

“This is,” Layla starts, hand coming up to run through her hair. She shakes her head, meeting Jonesy’s eyes. “This is insane…”

“Layla, I’m… I’m sorry I couldn’t do more to help. He just didn’t want to share, and—”

The bassist is interrupted by the sensation of arms around him, and sweet-smelling dark hair in his face. Hugging the woman back, he can’t help but be struck by the thought that he’s going to miss her, when she leaves. Pulling away, Layla swipes a finger under her eyes, obscuring any tears that might have fallen. Jonesy looks down at her, brows furrowed in concern.

“Jonesy, I… I want to apologize.”

“For what? There’s nothing to be sorry for. Is this like, a Canadian thing? I’ve heard you people apologize a lot.”

“I… I acted like… a bitch, to you all, when I first met you. I was rude, and I was… probably a little too sarcastic, and I never told you, or anyone, how—”

Jonesy pulls her in for another hug, and feels Layla bury her face into his shoulder, pulling away after a good while.

“I, uh… You probably don’t want to hear all the gory details, but… I learned to put up walls. To not let people in, ‘cause they’ll just leave. Looks like I’ll be the one doing the leaving this time…”

She chuckles wetly, scratching her arm unconsciously. Jonesy puts a steady hand on hers, stopping the movement.

“Layla…”

“When I got here, I was… scared,” Layla sniffles, looking away, too embarrassed at the admission to meet Jonesy’s pleading eyes. “Peter was the first face I saw when I woke up, and he was trustworthy. He helped me. You guys walked in and… I shut down. I put up walls, and I acted like… like nothing was bothering me.”

“It’s okay, you don’t have to explain—”

“Look, Jonesy,” Layla interrupts, gaze still firmly on a scuff mark on her sneakers. “I just… I do appreciate everything you guys have done, especially you, and… I didn’t show that. Maybe I still don’t.” Jonesy gives the hand still in his a squeeze, prompting Layla to finally look at him. He’s shocked by the tears threatening to fall, her brown eyes dark with sadness.

“That’s not true. You make me smile every day, and you’re fun and… you’re like my little sister. It’s the same for Bonzo. He’s fond of you, even if he hides it, most of the time. He’s comfortable with you. You took care of Robert, and you comforted him. If you didn’t care, would you have stayed with him, stroking his hair for an hour?”

“Jonesy…”

“No, Layla, listen. Jimmy… God, he thinks so highly of you. He listens to you, which is a feat in and of itself. His face lights up whenever you’re around. The way he talks about you… We know you care. You care too much sometimes, if anything. You don’t have to apologize, because there’s absolutely nothing to be sorry for.”

Layla gazes into his stormy eyes, and nods, a fragile smile lighting up her face. Jonesy smiles back, and stands from his spot on the bed. Holding out a hand to help her up, Jonesy waits for Layla to take it, sliding an arm around her shoulders in a familiar embrace.

“God, Porter, you’re like…Bilbo Baggins, with how tiny you are.” Jonesy rests his arm on her head as he says this, smirking down at the woman.

“Says you, Jones.” Layla laughs, smiling gratefully at the bassist as they walk out the door.

----------

Slipping the ornate key into the lock on the door, Layla enters the room, spotting Jimmy sitting at the table near the window, a notepad and a ballpoint pen resting on the surface. The sunlight streaming in illuminates his face, as he squints against the brightness of it, writing furiously. Layla steps closer, taking in the sight before her. Perhaps sensing the eyes upon him, the sound of pen on paper ceasing as he looks up at the intruder.

“Hey, Jim. What’re you writing?”

“Oh, it’s nothing…”

Glancing at the paper strewn across the tabletop, Layla spots hastily drawn staves, neat music notes decorating the lines. At the top of the page, reads: ‘Tea For One”. It didn’t seem like there was much to it yet, but Layla couldn't wait to hear it.

“Hey,” Jimmy starts, a hand scratching at the back of his neck, tell-tale nerves making their appearance. “Is everything alright?”

“Yeah, Robert’s still sleeping, Peter’s keeping an eye on him.”

Jimmy huffs out a laugh, as he beckons Layla closer with a hand outstretched towards her. Taking it, Layla moves into his space, running her fingers through his hair as he looks up at her. She takes a handful of the soft sable locks and brings it up to the top of his head, a curtain of curly bangs falling over his eyes. Layla laughs as he frowns, looking up at her through emerald eyes sparkling with hidden happiness.

“I wasn’t talking about Robert, petal. How are you doing? I saw you walking with Jonesy, and you looked… nervous?”

“Oh,” Layla said, dropping her hands from the guitarist’s hair, scrambling for an adequate response. “I was just… a little on edge about Robert being sick and all, so Jonesy reassured me.”

“He’ll be okay, Layla. I hear you took great care of him.” The tail of the sentence is accompanied by a soft smirk, as he gazes at the woman, eyes roaming head to toe.

“Are you jealous, Page?”

“Well… I can’t help but want you all to myself, you know.”

“The feeling’s mutual, Romeo.”

Jimmy scoffs, taking her hand in his, threading their fingers together. Layla looks down at the joined hands, and Jimmy uses this to his advantage, pulling her even closer to sit in his lap. She lands with a soft noise of surprise, and Jimmy presses his lips to hers in a quick kiss.

“Romeo… That’s a new one.”

“What can I say? It fits you.”

“How?” Layla tilts her head to the side at this, a finger pressed to her chin in mock contemplation. A hand strokes the apple of the guitarist’s cheek, as she smiles winningly.

“Well, for starters, you’re too romantic for your own good. I wouldn't put it past you to recreate the balcony scene. Full dramatics, of course.”

“That must make you Juliet then, falling for my charm.”

“I mean, I guess you’re more than just a pretty face.”

“Truly, I’m flattered,” Jimmy jokes, looking down at Layla, lips quirked in a smile. “And I thought you just liked me for my hair. You do keep messing with it, after all.”

“Well…” Layla giggles, tugging on a stray curl that frames his squared jaw. “That’s your fault for keeping it so long. Free real estate.”

Jimmy, smiling fondly at the woman in his lap, taps her leg, and she stands. Layla sticks a hand out to help him up, surely just an excuse to touch him again. Jimmy takes the offered hand, and places a hand on her hip as he pushes russet curls behind her ear.

“Bonzo was saying something about a trip down to the hotel pool, if you were interested. I can’t swim myself, but I’d be happy to join you… If you want to, of course.”

“Sounds like fun,” Layla exclaims, face lighting up at the prospect of a fun night at the pool. “Who else would I splash when they’re not paying attention, but you?”

“I shouldn’t have offered…”

With a wink, Layla bounds over to her suitcase and pulls out a swimsuit, heading into the bathroom to change. Jimmy changes into a pair of shorts, forgoing a shirt, and sits on their shared bed to wait for Layla, who walks out of the bathroom, a hand running up and down her arm shyly. She clears her throat, wincing at the volume of it, as Jimmy lifts his head to look at her. A sharp intake of breath rings out in the silence of the room as his mouth falls open, blatantly checking her out. Dressed in a simple, sleek black one-piece that accentuates her curves, dark hair cascading down freckled shoulders, Layla stands in front of him, arms crossed shyly over her chest. Jimmy nears, a hand going to her elbow.

“Petal, you look…”

“Is it okay?”

His response to her question comes in the form of a heated kiss, hand moving from her elbow to her cheek. Finally pulling away, he looks her up and down once more.

“You look… gorgeous.”

“You’re not too bad yourself.” Layla runs a hand across his chest, making the man shiver, mind going haywire from the electric touch. The man looks down at her with a question in his eyes, dark with desire, and she nods. Jimmy walks her backwards until she’s pressed up against the wall, the man moving further into her space.

“Is this alright, petal?” he says, smirk in place as he gazes into Layla’s eyes, teasing her.

“God, just kiss me.”

And he does.

The couple’s lips move in unison, noses bumping together in their haste to connect. Jimmy’s uninjured hand moves back to its place on her hip as he groans into the kiss, biting her lip as she melts into him. Layla takes the noise as an invitation, slipping her fingers closer to the waistband of the man’s shorts. They pull away, Jimmy nodding, his pupils blown wide, lips swollen with the force of the kiss. Layla’s hair is mussed, Jimmy’s hands running through it as they move together. Layla’s hand slips lower, as Jimmy's own rests at her shoulder, fiddling with the bathing suit, hoping to uncover what lay beneath.

“I hope you’re not having sex in there! Let’s go, the pool won’t be open all day!” Bonzo’s voice booms through the closed door as the couple spring apart, breathing heavily, cheeks flushed scarlet. With a huff, they walk to the door, pulling it open to find Bonzo and Jonesy, dressed for a swim.

“You guys look… Um… Did we interrupt something?”

“No.”

“Yes.”

Layla and Jimmy respond in unison, eyes wide as they look at the rhythm section, who shake their heads in exasperation.

“Whatever, just…. Keep it in your pants for a little longer, please.” With that, Bonzo and Jonesy walk away, Jimmy and Layla scrambling to keep up. Finally reaching the pool, Bonzo and Layla dive in immediately, while Jonesy sits on the edge, legs dangling in the water below. Jimmy takes a seat next to him, slipping a foot into the water hesitantly. Immediately, he pulls it out with a gasp, much to the amusement of his friends.

“That was so cold!”

“How about this, then?”

A wave splashes Jimmy right in the chest, and he shrieks, curling up to avoid the spray. Layla laughs, having splashed him in the first place. Jimmy, recovered from the shock of freezing water on his bare chest, frowns at the woman. His eyes, however, held an air of mischief, as if he was planning something.

“Come here for a second, petal?” Layla swims closer to him, a smirk tilting her lips upwards, dark eyes dancing with amusement. She stands up when she nears him, slotting herself between his legs

“Yes, Jimmy?”

His response was to bring a hand up to her cheek, drawing her in for a short, sweet kiss, a small taste of what they had been doing until they were interrupted. They pull away, and stare into the other’s eyes, as if nothing else existed in that moment but them. Bonzo, sends a glance to Jonesy, who smirks at the couple, knowing exactly what was coming.

Bonzo sends a burst of frigid water at them, laughing uncontrollably as Layla, who had received the brunt of the splash, turns around, dripping hair plastered to the sides of her face.

“Oh, it’s on, Bonham.”

“Let’s go, Porter. ”

The two engage in a splash war of epic proportions, water flying everywhere. Jimmy and Jonesy dodge the tidal waves that jet towards them, as laughter bounces off the tiled walls. This was a reprieve from the bad luck that seemed to follow the band as of late.

It’s a shame it won’t last.

--------

taglist: @jimmys-zeppelin @salixfragilis @timetraveller4 @earthfire-75 @thatiloveyouso (let me know if you want to be added!)

#only the black rose #jimmy page #led zeppelin #jimmy page fanfic #jimmy page fanfiction #jimmy page x oc #led zeppelin fanfic #classic rock fanfic

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uneq-apol--arts · 4 years

Text

Duped

AO3

Summary: (Reverse Portal AU) Stan and Dipper discover they have a lot more in common than they thought.

Warnings: references to alcohol abuse

Genre: Familial Fluff

Characters: Dipper Pines, Stan Pines

Notes: Requested by @hurricanelistmaker. There may be some references to the RP Mind Wipe AU. This just really reminded me of it.

----------

The past week had been an absolute whirlwind of weird. Not just the Gravity Falls type of ultimately harmless. No, this weird was a weird that could've destroyed the world if done incorrectly. First, the youngest Pines discovered their seemingly boring Great-Uncle Ford was building a doomsday device in a basement they knew nothing about. Second, from that portal arrives another great-uncle the youngest Pines knew nothing about!

On the topic of Great-Uncle Ford, Dipper couldn't find him anywhere. Someone had moved the axolotl feed to where Dipper couldn't reach it. Judging by the muffled bangs from below the house, Ford was down in the basement again, where the children weren't allowed. The younger twins hadn't seen hide nor hair of their caretaker since his brother returned.

Great-Uncle (or Grunkle, as he insisted the children call him) Stan was a pretty cool guy though. In the past week, he'd already taught Dipper and Mabel how to box, sword fight, and swindle some suckers from town. Dipper questioned his morals but went along with his lessons anyways. Stan had even questionably obtained a sketchbook for Dipper to write in instead of Great-Uncle Ford's old journal.

Back to the problem at hand for the youngest Pines, someone had moved the axolotl feed. There weren't any step ladders in the house that Dipper knew of and standing on the couch to reach the little blue canister seemed too risky.

Dipper left for the nearest room noise came from: the kitchen. "Great-Uncle Ford!"

-----

Stan swore in all the languages he'd learned. He was going to go mad living here! He'd only lived here a week and he was getting sick of all this organic junk Ford lived on. The cranky old nerd was spending all of his waking hours in the basement pulling apart the portal without help.

Seriously though, how did his nutters brother and the children live on this "health food" junk? Fruits and vegetables? Gross. It was quite possibly worse than what Stan scrounged up in the multiverse! That at least tasted like meat!

Stan was just about tempted to murder Mabel's pig if it meant he could get some good grub. He didn't care if she hated him for it!

He did.

She was wonderful.

At a loss, Stan grabbed a piece of bread and stuffed it in his mouth, satiating his dripping appetite. From the doorway, Dipper called out for his dumb drunk great-uncle.

-----

Dipper stopped short in the kitchen doorway, his next call dying on his lips. Leaning back on his heels to see the higher cupboard shelves was the boy's estranged, one-armed, great-uncle. "Great-Uncle Stan?" The man in question spun around dangerously quick and stumbled. A piece of bread hung from the man's mouth.

"Um." Stan's mouth fell open and the saliva-soggy half-eaten piece of bread hit the tile floor with a disgusting squelch. Both men's eyes met the bread on the floor, Dipper with a grossed out cringe. "Um." Stan muttered again, face barely flushed from being caught. He reached out a booted foot and shoved the bread under the lip of the lower cabinets before looking up at Dipper and waving his hand. "You din't see nothin'." Stan said darkly. Dipper nodded, choking back his comment on the double negative with a scared squeak. Stan's demeanor shifted suddenly to a more playful tone and he crossed over to Dipper, throwing his arm around the boy's shoulders. "Whatcha need, squirt?"

"Someone moved the axolotl feed and I can't reach it now." Dipper lamented as Stan returned to the task of overturning the whole kitchen. Dipper finally stepped into the kitchen and leaned against the counter.

"Sounds like a you problem, kiddo."

Hoping to use his own tricks against him, Dipper looked for a bargaining chip. "What are you looking for?" Had Stan actually rubbed off on him that quickly? Dipper supposed he saw a lot more of Stan than Ford. The boy shivered, uncomfortable with that train of thought. They should probably make sure Ford was okay if the increase in frequency of the bangs from below was anything to go by.

"You're smart, whaddya think?" Before Dipper could even start reasoning, Stan interrupted again. "I'm lookin' for somethin' to eat that isn't boring or vegetarian." He spit the last word out with such distaste that Dipper let out a crackly little laugh. Bargaining chip acquired. Now he just had to use it.

"Good luck with that, man." Stan turned to glower at the petite twelve-year-old. For the peeved façade the man put up, Dipper could see the intrigue behind it. "Get me the axolotl feed and I'll let you eat from Mabel and I's food stash?" Stan didn't look convinced. "We have beef jerky." That got the conman's attention. The cupboard door slammed shut and echoed in the kitchen space.

"Thank Moses for you, kid!" Dipper smiled mischievously. "Why are you-- Hey wait a minute!" Dipper burst out laughing and headed to the living room, leaving a proud and spluttering Stan in his wake.

-----

After recovering from being duped by the little miscreant, Stan followed Dipper into the living room. In a wooden case sat the axolotl tank, the little pink salamander floating around and bonking into the glass walls.

"Y'know I met a sentient axolotl once." Stan said as he reached up for the canister the kid indicated.

"Really?" He scream-asked. Stan covered his ear with his remaining hand then held out the canister to Dipper.

"Jeez kid, you're worse than Poindexter!" The old man mumbled.

"Speaking of-" Moses, you talk just like him. "-where is Great-Uncle Ford?"

"Oh he's prob'ly off doin' unholy science in the basement." Stan knew very well what his brother was doing. He was sitting alone in the basement, trying to tear apart the portal, running purely on vodka and bourbon. Ironically, another bang sounded and rattled the frame of the house.

Stan and Dipper watched the axolotl float about in comfortable silence. Dipper dropped a couple pellets into the water and with a ferocity that should be strictly reserved for sharks, the axolotl snapped out and caught the tiny pellets in its little mouth. The two watched the little salamander swim around for a bit, its fronds flicking as Stan spoke up again. "So... ya got any other weird pets?"

"We had a compsognathus for a little while. It started stealing Great-Uncle Ford's pens, though." There was an unmistakable sadness in the boy's voice so Stan laid a hand on his shoulder. "We gave him to Farmer Sprott to take care of." Dipper pulled out his journal and showed the sketches of the chicken-sized dinosaur to Stan.

"Oh man that's cool. I'd love to go visit him if we can."

"Oh, yeah, we visit him every once in a while. He's really happy with Farmer Sprott." Dipper paused for a minute. "Did you ever see any dinosaurs in the multiverse?"

"No, I didn't. Woulda been cool though. Any other pets?"

"Yeah," Dipper took Stan's hand and led him out to a small pond a little ways into the forest. Stan was instantly on high alert. Dipper sat down by the bank but Stan stayed standing, surveying the area.

"Great-Uncle Ford has a pet plaidypus. He had this pond built a little after he found her. She was abandoned by her mother when she was a baby because her bill was cracked and her tail was damaged." Stan could immediately feel the hurt in his heart at that. Said pain only intensified when the strange red plaid patterned creature emerged from the water and rubbed up against Dipper's hand, beckoning pets. Dipper giggled and patted the weird little thing on the head, making its tail paff against the grass.

Stan just watched, frozen in curiosity and sadness when a little tug at his pant leg caught his attention. Looking down, he found an even smaller plaidypus chewing on his pant leg with the same chipped bill and malformed tail. The mother came over to retrieve her child and Stan just watched in wonder as mother and baby bonded, laying down in the grass together.

"What can you tell me about the axolotl you met?" Dipper spoke up softly, breaking Stan away from the pair of plaidypus. Deciding the place was safe enough, Stan sat down next to Dipper who took out a notepad and pen. As Stan began his story, he gesticulated wildly, completely enthralling Dipper.

"Well it was huge! Like the size of a whale!..."

----------

Remember: You are loved and cherished and we'd hate to lose you <3.

#gf fic #gift!#gravity falls #reverse portal au #dipper pines #stan pines #stanley pines

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pinktintedmonocle · 4 years

Text

Dedicated Followers of Fashion - A Cobra Kai Lawrusso Fanfic - Chapter 2

“I found that shirt”, Daniel said, feigning casualness.

“What shirt?” asked Johnny, plonking himself down in his own chair.

“The pink one”, Daniel replied. He stood up slowly, bracing himself against the desk as the room threatened to start spinning. “The one you said – that you said – ah – from the photo album.”

When a look through an old photo album leads to Daniel unearthing a certain pink shirt, things heat up between him and Johnny when they both get drunk at the dojo.

Trigger warning: some description of one of the characters having issues accepting their sexuality.

May 1985

“So I’ve gotta go into the office this morning, just for an hour or two, but I’ll be back by lunch so we can go to the mall, get you some new clothes.”

Daniel made a noise of protest around his mouthful of eggs. He swallowed and took a gulp of orange juice.

“But I’ve got plans, Ma! I was gonna go round to Mr Miyagi’s, learn some new moves, feed the fish. And the clothes I got are fine, honest.”

“Your clothes are not fine, Daniel; all of your pants are about an inch too short in the leg, and look at that shirt!” said Lucille, gesturing to Daniel’s red checked plaid, “Those cuffs are supposed to come down to your wrists, not your elbows!”

Daniel slumped back in his chair, clamped a hand to his heart dramatically and groaned.

“But I don’t wanna go shopping, Ma!”

“Then quit growing”, said Lucille with a grin. “Come on, it’ll be fun. I’ll treat you to a burger and a milkshake from that place you like. Hey, why don’t you invite Ali? I haven’t seen her around in a while. Everything OK with you two?”

“Oh yeah, we’re just peachy. But she’s – er – she’s got family stuff on this weekend”, Daniel lied.

“Alright, well it’ll just be the two of us then. It’ll be nice to have a bit of mother-son bonding time, you can fill me in on everything that’s been going on with you lately.”

“There’s nothing going on with me”, Daniel said shortly, a slight flush on his cheeks. He pushed back his chair and stood up. “Look, I better go tell Mr Miyagi I can’t make it this afternoon. I’ll see you later, Ma.” He barrelled out of the door, leaving it open.

Lucille shouted after him, exasperated. “Alright, but we’ll meet back here at 12. And don’t be late!”

**********************************************************************************

“Alright, so you need some new pants and shirts. And what about underwear, do you need new underwear?”

“Ma-”

“Well do you?”

Daniel shrugged, looking down at his feet and scuffing the floor with his shoe. “Yeah, I guess”, he muttered.

Lucille pulled his head up by the chin, looking at him with concern. “Are you OK, Daniel? You’ve been in a mood all day, didn’t even finish your milkshake. Those Cobra Kai boys aren’t giving you a hard time at school again, are they?”

“No, Ma. They’re not even in Cobra Kai anymore-”

“Then what is it, huh?”

“What it is is that my mother is stood in the middle of a store with people all around tryin’ to talk to talk to me about underwear.”

Lucille dropped his chin and rolled her eyes. “Alright, smartass, I’ll shut up. Come on, quicker this is over with quicker we can go home and not worry about shopping again until you hit another growth spurt.”

They walked through the store, picking out a new wardrobe. (Daniel had tried to fill the basket with nothing but camo pants and plaid shirts, but Lucille had laughed and put most of them back. “How about we try and get you a few clothes that you can wear together that actually match?” she had suggested. “Matching, matching, who cares about matching?” Daniel had protested, but had still allowed his mom to pick out a few pairs of jeans and a couple of plain shirts.)

“OK, I think that’s nearly everything we need – oh, look at that!”, exclaimed Lucille, smiling brightly as her eyes caught on something over Daniel’s shoulder. “That shirt would look so nice on you.”

She walked past Daniel and he turned to see her picking out a rose pink shirt and peering at the label. “And it’s your size too, perfect! Alright, let’s find the cashier’s desk and then get outta here-”

Daniel reached into the basket and plucked out the shirt. “I’m not wearing that, Ma. Aren’t there any other colours, like, um, blue or something?”

Lucille looked at him, brow furrowed. “Well yeah, there might be – but look, what’s wrong with this colour? It brings out your eyes-”

“But it’s pink ma, and I’m – I’m not – look, I can choose my own clothes, OK!” yelled Daniel, hands curling into fists.

Several people in the store turned to stare.

Lucille took a step back, shock etched onto her features. “Hey, hey, don’t you talk to me like that, young man!” she shouted back, voice steely. “I don’t know what’s got into you lately but I don’t like it, you hear me?”

Daniel suddenly deflated, fists uncurling, shoulders dropping, and for a second he looked as if he was about to cry.

“It’s nothing”, he said, swiping at his eyes fiercely with the back of one hand. “I’m sorry Ma, really I am.” He put the shirt back in the basket. “It’s just a shirt, it’s fine, it’ll be fine. Oh hey, I think the cashier’s desk is this way-”

He lolloped off on his long legs and Lucille had to almost run to catch up with him.

**********************************************************************************

They loaded up the car with their purchases and drove home in silence, Daniel fidgeting with a loose thread on his shirt and staring out of the window. When they were nearly home, Lucille spoke.

“I wish you’d tell me what’s going on, Daniel”, she said softly. “You know you can tell me anything.”

I can’t, Daniel thought, I can’t tell you this. He looked at his mom and smiled tightly. “Yeah, I know mom, but it’s nothing. Really.”

“OK”, said Lucille. “OK”.

Daniel could see that she didn’t believe him, but mercifully she didn’t ask him any more questions.

May 2019

“Oh, you’re so tiny!” laughed Carmen, taking a sip of wine as she giggled. “And that outfit! That’s certainly something…”

Amanda grinned. “Yeah, thankfully he outgrew his plaid and camo phase before we met. Not sure we would’ve got past the first date if he had shown up wearing that.”

“Hey, it was a look!” Daniel protested. “I’ll have you know I got plenty of dates in that outfit back in Jersey!”

The two women laughed, leaning against each other as they continued to study the photo album, while Johnny smirked. Daniel rolled his eyes and took another sip of wine.

It was two weeks until the tournament, and Daniel and Amanda had invited Johnny and the students round to their house for a meal to blow off a little steam after months of intense training. Amanda had also invited Carmen (“I need another person here who isn’t a teenager or a man-child, otherwise the evening will end with me throwing someone through a window, never mind Kreese), and they had all sat outside, enjoying the late evening sun and eating and laughing.

Eventually the kids had sloped off to Daniel’s home dojo to admire Hawk’s new hair colour (purple), and discuss teen drama (Daniel had gathered from the conversation over dinner that Demetri was in a relationship with a blonde girl called Yasmine despite the fact that they apparently hated each other and spent most of their time denying they had anything to do with each other. He had caught Johnny’s eye while Demetri told his story and Johnny had held his gaze for just a moment before they both quickly looked away).

The adults had then retreated to the kitchen to polish off a bottle of wine or two (or beer, in Johnny’s case), and after a while Daniel’s childhood photo albums had somehow materialised. After laughing themselves silly over the plaid/camo combo, Amanda and Carmen had continued to make their way through the album, getting to prom (“Look at that suit!” cackled Amanda), and then to Daniel’s trip to Okinawa.

“I thought the village I grew up in in Ecuador was rural, but this is something else”, said Carmen, flicking through the photos. She paused at a picture of Daniel and Mr Miyagi, standing outside Yukie’s house. “I like your shirt here, Daniel. Definitely an improvement on the plaid”.

“Oh yeah, pink is definitely your colour, LaRusso”, said Johnny, and Carmen nudged him.

“Don’t be mean, Johnny”, she said.

“I wasn’t!” protested Johnny. “I meant it!”

“Really?” Daniel asked lightly, taking another sip of wine, tone casual even though his heart was hammering in his chest. “Not like you to compliment me, Johnny.”

Johnny’s face flushed. “No, I just – I just meant it’s not completely awful. Not like most of the clothes you wore back then. Or now, to be honest.”

“How about we talk about something that isn’t my fashion sense”, said Daniel, picking up the album and closing it firmly.

“I think you mean ‘lack of fashion sense’”, said Amanda teasingly, leaning in to kiss him on the check. She stretched her neck and grimaced. “Why don’t we go and sit somewhere more comfortable?”

“Good idea!” Daniel said brightly. “You all go into the living room and I’ll grab some more drinks.”

As soon as the others were out of sight the smile slid off Daniel’s face and he leant heavily against the kitchen counter.

“But it’s pink ma, and I’m – I’m not -”

“Oh yeah, pink is definitely your colour, LaRusso”

It had been over a month since the almost-kiss and he and Johnny hadn’t talked about it. There had been a few times when Daniel had thought Johnny was on the verge of mentioning it, but he had always just opened and closed his mouth a few times before clearing his throat and starting to talk about something else entirely. Daniel, for his part, had no idea how to even approach the subject. Hey Johnny, remember when you put on that ridiculous jacket that made your arms look amazing and then rubbed up against me and spun me round and then freaked out when I leant in to kiss you? You wanna talk about that?

“Hey babe”, said Amanda, and Daniel started as he looked up to see her in the doorway. “Just thought I’d come and give you a hand with the drinks.”

He looked at his wife, the woman who had stuck by him through thick and thin for the last twenty years, and felt a surge of guilt. He pushed it away and clapped his hands together. “Right, what do you and Carmen want? Another bottle of the Cabernet Sauvignon?”

“Yes please”, said Amanda, picking up the glasses while Daniel fetched the bottle. “And grab another Coors from the refrigerator for Johnny.”

Daniel took out the beer and followed Amanda into the living room, plastering on a grin that didn’t quite reach his eyes.

**********************************************************************************

A few days later Daniel told Amanda over breakfast that he wasn’t feeling so good. Amanda had taken his temperature with the back of her hand and frowned.

“Well, it doesn’t feel like you’ve got a fever, babe, but maybe you should take a day off from the dealership.

“Thanks”, he said, smiling weakly. “I’m sure it’s nothing, probably just a twenty-four hour bug or something.”

“OK, well, just take it easy, yeah?”

“I will. I’ll just go back to bed, try and get some sleep.”

Daniel had lain in bed until he heard Amanda leave for work and the kids leave for school before he jumped up and made his way to the storage room at the back of the house. It was packed full since he had moved everything out of the dojo and into this one room, and he spent a good half hour clambering over old chairs, kids’ toys and pool noodles before he found the two cardboard boxes he was looking for, tucked away in a dusty corner.

Both boxes had ‘1985’ scrawled on the side in black sharpie, and Daniel picked them up in turn before pushing the lighter box back into its corner. He knew what he’d find there – a white gi with a faded black snake on the back and blood stains on the sleeves – and he wasn’t quite ready to deal with that one yet. He would have to, one day, but currently there were more pressing demons he had to face.

He opened the heavier box and started to pull out piles of clothes. He had kept almost every bit of clothing from his first trip to Okinawa, folded up neatly and all stored away together, every piece infused with a memory he never wanted to forget. He smiled fondly as he took out the jeans, red shirt and black vest that he wore down at the docks with Mr Miyagi when they practised the drum technique, followed by his red silk kimono with the black and yellow embroidered bonsai trees, thinking of the O-ben festival and the fight with Chozen. Eventually he found the rose pink shirt and held it up, shaking it out.

It was paler than when he’d first worn it, bleached by the sun. There were a few loose threads but overall it still in fairly good shape. He stared at it as the memories came flooding back. There were the good ones; mooching through Tomi village with Mr Miyagi and waving to Kumiko as the little girls giggled shrilly, and then there were the bad; the department store, the feeling of panic that had welled up in his chest when his mom had picked it out, the irrational fear that somehow she knew the secret he had tried so hard to conceal. After a minute Daniel placed it down on the floor, then re-folded all of the other clothes and packed them away until only the pink shirt remained. He knew the sensible thing to do would’ve been to pack it up as well, push the feelings back down, but instead he left it out and put the box back into its corner without it. Then he washed, dried and ironed it and placed it in his gym bag.

**********************************************************************************

The week before the tournament Daniel and Johnny stayed late at the dojo, sitting on the deck and sorting out some last minute details while munching on burgers. (“I get to pick the food tonight”, Johnny had said, “and I don’t want any green stuff.” “You’ve got a pickle in that burger”, Daniel had pointed out. Johnny had removed the pickle and thrown it at him).

After eating they did a final assessment of the strengths and weaknesses of their students (Miguel had eventually convinced Johnny to let him fight with the blessing of Carmen, and he and Sam were placed in joint first in their rankings, with Hawk coming in a close second. “I think Demetri could stand a good chance” Daniel had said and Johnny had rolled his eyes. “A good chance at what, getting his arm broken again? I think Bert’s got a shot though; he may be small but that kid can kick”. “Oh yeah?” Daniel had grinned. “Remind you of anyone?” “No”, said Johnny), and after an hour of furious scribbling (on Daniel’s part), Johnny had stood up and stretched, his t-shirt riding up a little to expose a strip of taut stomach (Daniel had turned his head, pretending to be very interested in a rock).

“I need a drink”, Johnny declared, walking towards the house.

Daniel thought of the pink shirt in his bag. “I’ll have one too”, he called after Johnny.

A minute later Johnny emerged with two stubby brown bottles clutched in his hands. He sat back down on the deck and handed one to Daniel.

“Thought my taste in beer was beneath you, LaRusso”, said Johnny as Daniel twisted off the cap and took a gulp.

Daniel grimaced, nose wrinkling in distaste. “Yeah well, you’ve worn me down. It is disgusting though; I don’t know how you drink this stuff.”

Johnny barked a laugh. “It’s an acquired taste.”

“Acquired through what?”

“Through drinking nothing else for thirty years”, Johnny replied with a shrug, uncapping his own bottle and flipping the lid behind him. It landed in a bush.

Daniel raised an eyebrow. “I hope you’re going to pick that up later, Johnny.”

“What? No, its fine, I’m sure it’s recyclable or some shit.”

“You mean degradable and no, it’s not.”

Johnny just shrugged and took a long pull at his Banquet.

Daniel side-eyed Johnny as they both drank their beers, watching as Johnny swiped a strand of tousled blond hair out of his too-blue eyes before his gaze tracked lower, noting the way Johnny’s throat bobbed as he swallowed, then lower still to take in the broad shoulders, muscular arms and firm chest visible under a tightly fitted t-shirt. He looked away, feeling his cheeks redden.

They spent another hour or so grading students and discussing tactics, during which Daniel managed to drink another three beers (those tiny bottles don’t last long) and it was almost dark in the garden when Johnny drained his own beer and rubbed his eyes.

“I should go”, Johnny said, although he didn’t move.

“You’re not driving”, Daniel said firmly, lips pursed.

“I’m barely drunk!”, Johnny protested. “I’ve only had six beers!” He waggled a finger under Daniel’s nose. “And don’t talk to me about drunk driving, LaRusso, you’ve gotten into a car with me when I’ve had way more than this. I don’t know why you suddenly care so much.”

“I care because we’ve got the tournament in a week from now, and if you end up dead and the kids are too grief stricken too fight and Kreese takes over the valley it’ll be all your fault.”

“Whatever”, said Johnny, “you can just say you’d miss me, LaRusso.”

“In your dreams, Johnny”, Daniel answered, rolling his eyes.

I do miss you, I’ve always missed you. I missed you thirty-five years ago, and I’m missing you now, even though you’re right here.

Daniel felt something brush his hand and he looked down to see Johnny’s own hand resting next to his on the deck, pinky fingers touching. He glanced up and they stared at each other for a beat before they both pulled back at the same time.

“I’ll call us both a cab”, said Daniel, clearing his throat. “You can leave your car here and I’ll pick you up tomorrow before training.” He half expected Johnny to protest, but instead the blonde just nodded.

“Right. Well, we should go inside”, Daniel continued. “It’s getting cold out here.”

Johnny got up and Daniel followed suit, but he had only taken two steps before his feet seemed to stop working and he nearly fell off the decking. Johnny caught him, strong arms encircling his waist, chest pressed flush to Daniel’s back, and Daniel was reminded of the night a month ago; the way the denim scratched over his skin, the warmth of Johnny’s body.

“Easy, LaRusso”, Johnny murmured in his ear and Daniel shivered slightly at the sensation of Johnny’s breath on his neck. “Banquet will do that to you when you’re not used to it.”

“I’m fine”, Daniel insisted, head spinning, suddenly aware of how drunk he was, “You can let go of me.”

“You sure?”, Johnny asked, and Daniel briefly considered feigning another dizzy spell to stay in Johnny’s embrace for a little longer, before firmly shaking his head and pushing Johnny’s hands away.

“I’m good, really”, Daniel said, vaguely aware that his speech was a little slurred.

Johnny moved away and Daniel just about stayed upright, scrubbing a hand over his face.

“Jesus, Johnny, how do you drink that stuff every day and still have a functioning liver?”

“You’ll get used to it, LaRusso”, said Johnny, walking into the house.

“I seriously hope I don’t”, Daniel muttered, following Johnny inside.

Johnny headed for the bathroom while Daniel stumbled over to his desk and sat down heavily. He fished his phone out of his pocket, squinting against the glare of the screen, and pulled up the number for a taxi company. Then Johnny walked back into the room and Daniel found himself placing the phone face down on the desk without making the call.

“I found that shirt”, he said, feigning casualness.

“What shirt?” asked Johnny, plonking himself down in his own chair.

Johnny frowned. “The one from the 80’s?”

Daniel licked his lips. “Yeah.”

Johnny scoffed. “Oh yeah? You gave me shit for having my old clothes and you’re still hoarding all of yours?”

“For sentimental reasons only, Johnny. I don’t wear them on a regular basis.”

Johnny pointed a finger at him. “Hey, my clothes are timeless. Did it fit?”

“Did what fit?”

“The shirt”, Johnny said, swinging his legs up onto his desk and leaning back, hands behind his head. “It probably does, you’re still as much of a shrimp as you were back then.”

“I don’t know, I didn’t try it on”, Daniel replied, and he knew he should go, call a cab and get out of there, but the cheap beer was making his tongue loose. “But I could do.”

Johnny fixed him with ice blue eyes. “You got it here?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I do.”

Johnny was silent for a moment as his tongue darted out to wet his lips. There was an expression on his face that Daniel struggled to read in his hazy state, half fear and half something else, as if he was trying to decide whether to run away from something or towards it.

“Go get it then”, Johnny said eventually, and Daniel just nodded and walked unsteadily into the next room to fetch it, making a detour to the bathroom on the way. He half expected Johnny to be gone by the time he got back, but the blonde was still there. Daniel stood awkwardly in the middle of the room and waved the shirt around lamely in one hand.

“You gonna put it on?” Johnny asked.

“I will if you take your dirty shoes off my desk”, Daniel shot back.

“It’s my desk!”

“Yeah, but I bought it.”

Johnny grumbled but removed his feet, and Daniel unzipped his tracksuit jacket and pulled on the shirt over his workout top. He stretched out his arms, waggling his fingers and feeling a little smug in spite of himself. “Still fits!”

“Yeah, but can you button it?” asked Johnny.

“Yeah, I think so. It might be a little snug with this top on underneath-”

“Then take it off”, Johnny instructed, and his voice was so direct, so commanding, that Daniel obeyed without thinking, tugging off both the shirt and his top.

I wonder if that’s a trick he learned from Kreese, Daniel mused, before he suddenly realised that he was topless in front of Johnny Lawrence who was staring at him, eyes wide. He quickly pulled the pink shirt back on and hurriedly buttoned it up. It was loose when he got it and it still mostly fitted, but he was also a beanpole with an almost concave stomach when he was sixteen, and he’s definitely filled out a little since then.

Johnny just looked at him for moment and Daniel fidgeted with the hem of the shirt, not quite able to meet Johnny’s eyes. He heard the scrape of a chair being pushed back and when he glanced up Johnny was standing, that fight or flight look on his face again. He moved forwards and Daniel followed suit, closing the gap between them until Johnny was close enough to reach out and touch Daniel’s chest, dragging his fingers down to where the buttons were a little snug around Daniel’s waist.

“It’s nice”, Johnny murmured. “It’s soft.”

“Yeah”, Daniel whispered, leaning into Johnny’s touch. He swayed dangerously as he did so and gripped Johnny’s arm to steady himself.

“It’s different, for you”, Johnny breathed. “Not blue.”

“That”, Daniel said, prodding a finger into Johnny’s chest with his free hand, “is your fault.”

“What is?”

“The blue.”

“How can a colour be my fault, LaRusso?”

But Daniel didn’t answer; he just made a noise in the back of this throat and pressed their foreheads together, feeling Johnny’s hot breath on his face as he moved just a little closer, lips almost touching-

Daniel’s phone rang shrilly, and he and Johnny sprang apart. Daniel threw himself across the room to his desk and grabbed it, breath hitching as he saw the name on the screen.

“It’s Amanda”, he said hoarsely, and glanced up at Johnny.

Johnny looked nauseous. “You should get it.”

Daniel answered the call.

“Hey babe”, said Amanda, and Daniel tried to respond but his throat was suddenly tight and he couldn’t quite form the words.

“Daniel?” asked Amanda, and there was a hint of panic in her voice. He cleared his throat and forced the words out.

“Hey. Everything OK?”

“I was just about to ask you the same thing. It’s pretty late; I was starting to get worried, thought Kreese might’ve decided to pay you a visit.”

“God, no, I’m fine, really. Just – just had a few beers with Johnny, lost track of time. I was just about to get us both a cab.”

“OK, well, see you soon. Love you.”

“Yeah”, said Daniel, turning away from Johnny. “Love you too.”

He hung up and immediately ordered two taxis. He walked over to the refrigerator, pulled out a bottle of water and took a long drink from it, trying to clear the alcohol induced fuzz from his mind.

Johnny was stood against the wall opposite Daniel, pressing himself into it as if he hoped it would magically open and swallow him up. Silence hung between them, heavy and oppressive, and Daniel knew that if he didn’t say anything Johnny wouldn’t either. But he also knew that if they didn’t deal with this soon the next time they were alone with a few drinks in their system would likely end with either him or Johnny just pinning the other to the floor, and not in a way that had anything to do with karate.

“We need to talk about this”, he said softly, and Johnny’s eyes met his.

“The cabs will be here in a minute-”

“Not now”, Daniel replied. “But soon. After the tournament.” He half expected Johnny to deny there was anything to talk about, but instead the blonde just nodded.

“Yeah. After the tournament.”

Daniel looked down and realised with a jolt that he was still wearing the pink shirt. He turned away, quickly taking it off and pulling his workout clothes back on.

He had just finished changing when the glare of headlights shone through the doors. He and Johnny made their way outside and got into the two cars, exchanging a brief lingering glance before they went their separate ways.

Daniel slumped down in his seat as the car wound its way out of the driveway. He stared out of the window as the city lights flashed by and found himself thinking about that day at the mall with his mom all those years ago and a similarly awkward car ride home, looking out at the same streets and trying and failing to not think about the same thing, of blue eyes and blonde hair and strong arms that would pick him up and pull him in and never let him go.

#cobra kai #Daniel LaRusso #Johnny Lawrence #lawrusso #cobrakaifanfic #cobrakaifanfiction

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spencers-dria · 4 years

Text

Meet Me in the Woods

Someone To Stay Ch. 7

Spencer x fem reader

After dinner, the guys and girls split up into their separate rooms, taking turns in the showers. After you finished washing up, you put on some red, plaid pajama pants, a black tank top, and a pair of slippers that looked like bear paws. You made your way into the kitchen, where Rossi was cleaning up.

"You didn't happen to bring marshmallows, did you?" You ask, eyebrows raised.

"You read my mind, kid." Rossi gives you a wink as he hands you a bag, already full of everything you need.

While he finishes, cleaning you make your way outside. All you can hear is the sound of crickets and the wind in the trees. It's like music to your ears, so peaceful. You walk across the back patio that overlooks the lake, heading towards the fire pit. Sitting on one of the log benches, you start to pull out all the supplies you need. After gathering some kindling, you start a fire in the stone fire pit, giving it a poke here and there to help get it going. Within a few minutes, the fire has grown to a decent size, and you can feel it's warmth from your seat.

It's not long before the doors open and the rest of the group joins you, gathering around the fire. Everyone grabs a skewer and starts roasting their marshmallows. Derek gets a little over eager with the fire and keeps burning his, so JJ has to help him out. The chocolate Rossi brought to use isn't plain Hershey's, but instead it's Ghirardli chocolate with different fillings like caramel or raspberry! These have to be some of the best s'mores you've ever tasted.

Once everyone is snacking on their s'mores, you hear Spencer speak up. "Alright! Who wants to hear a ghost story?"

The group lets out some claps and cheers for him.

You watch as his face changes and he lets the group get quiet as he sets the mood for the story. He pulls a candle out from somewhere behind his seat and lights it in the fire. He holds it in front of his face as he begins to speak, but stops when he hears a snicker. He turns and gives you a serious look.

"I'm so sorry!" You and JJ both giggle, trying to pull yourselves together. "It's just really funny watching you take this so seriously."

He rolls his eyes at you, but you swear you almost see a smile. He tries to get back in character before starting.

"In Fredericksburg, Virginia...there is a hospital that would seem completely normal to most people. But to anyone who has been a patient on the 4th floor, they know better." He uses overly dramatic inflection in his voice, which only makes it more humorous.

"Really Spencer...the hospital where I work?"

He stops again, turning to you. "You know what ghosts really hate? People who interrupt. That's right! And they're coming for you next." He gives you a shove, and neither of you can keep a straight face anymore. You're both laughing, trying to catch your breath.

"Hey! I want to hear the rest of the story!" Penelope pipes up.

"Oh please he's just making it up as he goes along. It's not even that scary." You joke, playfully.

"I'm gonna pretend I didn't hear that, but I think we all know who did hear it..." he says in his spookiest voice. "Anyways! Like I said, the 4th floor is haunted. Patients who stay in rooms 26 and 27 have reported seeing a young boy and young girl. They say the girl always asks them if they want to play with her ball. Other patients have said they can hear a ball bouncing in the hallway in the latest hours of the night."

You shift, a bit uneasy in your seat. This was starting to sound familiar. It reminded you of stories you had heard from coworkers...but how would he know about this? You normally aren't spooked easily, but as Spencer continues, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up.

He continues the story. "They say the only people they really go after are the staff. They wait until their guard is down, the sneak up behind them, and..."

"GOTCHA!" You jump up from your seat as someone grabs you from behind.

You look down to see Derek Morgan, bent over with laughter, tears in his eyes. Spencer is laughing just as hard, if not harder. The rest of the team joins in, and after your nerves settle, so do you.

"You planned this didn't you?!" You yell at the two of them, trying to stifle a laugh and be serious.

The pair of them still laughing too hard to even speak. You have your answer.

"Well that's enough fun for me. I'm headed to bed, anyone else?" Rossi gets up and everyone else joins him, heading inside.

When you step inside, you grab your green, plaid, wool blanket off the couch and carry it back out to the patio. Everyone is already getting ready for bed, so no one notices. You spread it out on the deck and turn off the porch light. You finally lay down on your back, looking straight up at the night sky. You could see a few stars from where you live, but out here there are more than you could ever count. It looks like pixie dust, spread across a deep abyss of black. You take a deep breath in, smelling the forest. For you, it doesn't get any better than this.

You soon hear the patio door open and close, followed by footsteps. You see Spencer standing over you, looking down at you with curiosity. He's changed into purple PJ pants and a Star Wars shirt.

"Whatcha doin?"

"Taking it all in." You smile up at him.

"Mind if I join?"

You scoot over, making extra room as you pat the spot next to you on the blanket.

You let out a long sigh, feeling completely content and relaxed. "I don't know what it is, about space, the stars, the galaxy...but I have always been so mesmerized by all of it. Part of me just appreciates how beautiful it is and part of me appreciates how it is all so much bigger than me. It's beyond what I can ever wrap my head around. There's nothing I wouldn't do to one day take a trip up there."

"Do you know the story of Perseus?" Spencer asks before explaining. He's learned not to underestimate your random knowledge as well.

"Believe it or not, I do actually."

Spencer smiles to himself. "I'm not surprised. Anyways, so there is Cephus at the top, Cassiopeia below him to the right, then Andromeda, and finally Perseus at the bottom left."

Your face twist in confusion. You don't see any of it, but you're too embarrassed to admit this, so you nod as if you see them. You sometimes forget what Spencer does for his job. He scoots closer to you to share your line of vision. He then looks at you and smiles before grabbing your hand and directing your pointer finger along the path of each constellation.

"It's beautiful isn't it?" You ask him.

"What is?"

"All of it. The stars, the trees, the sounds, the smells...it's perfect." You close your eyes feeling completely at peace in this moment.

You don't see Spencer roll his head to look at you.

"Yeah, really beautiful." He responds.

You feel your body relaxing and slipping away from the moment as you fall closer towards sleep. The next thing you know you feel arms slipping underneath you and lifting you from the ground. Mostly asleep, you absent-mindedly wrap your arms around the figure carrying you. You feel your body being carried up and then tucked underneath you bed comforter. Your eyes flit open for only a moment. Through the thick darkness you barely make out Spencer's outline climbing back down the ladder and quietly slipping out of the room. This is the last thing you see before you are awoken by the scent of smokey bacon.

You open your eyes and look around the room to see all three other ladies are still fast asleep. Sunlight is dripping into the room from between the curtains. You carefully make your way down from your top bunk and tip toe out of the room, trying to avoid any squeaky wooden floorboards.

When you finally reach the kitchen, you are surprised to see Hotch cooking breakfast. He's smiling and flipping pancakes at the stove. You haven't known him very long, but this is still not something you would have expected from him.

"Goodmorning" you yawn, rubbing your eyes and adjusting to the sunlight flooding in from the large kitchen windows.

"Morning!" he beamed. "Care for some pancakes?"

"Pancakes sound wonderful, thanks! Need any help?"

"You can set the table if you don't mind."

"Not at all! Happy to help," You give him a smile as you start to pull place settings out from the cabinets.

"So, pancakes from scratch...where did you learn that?"

He lets out a small chuckle. "Rossi's not the only one who can cook ya know. Truthfull though, I learned a lot from my wife Haley. She was a great mom, and a wonderful cook." He smiles as he seems to get caught up in a memory, but you can here the sadness lacing his tone.

You can't help but inquire. "Was?"

He looks down at the bacon he is now grilling, avoiding eye contact as he continues.

"She was my ex wife for only a little while before she was killed. It was a serial killer that the team should have...that I should have caught." He has stopped cooking and is now gripping the counter infant of him, as though he was trying to keep himself from falling over.

You may not know him well, but your job had made you fairly comfortable with talking to people dealing with situations such as this, so you decide to approach him. You place a comforting hand on his shoulder.

"I'm so sorry, that you and your son have had to go through that. No one should ever be put through that much trauma. But I can tell its made you really strong. And your son, he's lucky to have a dad who cares so much about him and keeps him safe."

Hotch takes a deep breath before continuing his cooking as he flips a few pieces of bacon and pours another pancake. He then turns to you and gives a warm genuine smile.

"Thank you, Y/N. I really appreciate it, truly. We have all been through a lot. And I'm not the only one who's lost someone because of this job..."

He trails off when you expected him to continue. There was something about the way he said that last part that made you believe he wanted to say more. Could he be talking about Spencer? Who did he lose? What happened to them? When did it happen?

Questions start to flood your mind but are quickly pushed to the back as the rest of the team starts to make their way into the kitchen for breakfast.

Everyone is talking about their plans for the day. So you turn to Spencer.

"I have something fun planned, if you're willing to trust me."

He raises his eyebrows, intrigued.

"Well I trusted you yesterday and I turned out okay" he laughs.

"Well it's definitely more laid back, even relaxing. If you want you can even bring a book."

He puts his elbows on the table and leans forward on his hands. You've clearly peaked his interest.

"Ok you've won me over. What is it?"

"A surprise." You smile as you grab both of your empty plates and bring them to the sink to wash them off.

"Well can you at least tell me what I need to wear for this?"

You take a minute to think.

"Definitely sun screen and probably something can get a little bit wet or dirty and also some sturdy shoes."

You both make your way to your rooms to get ready. You find the other three ladies already getting dressed and packed for their planned activities.

Alex is getting ready to go on a hike with Rossi and Hotch. JJ and Morgan are taking some rental jet skis out on the lake. Penny will be relaxing on her float again.

You put on a grey tank with an open, oversized navy flannel, some grey khaki shorts, and chacos . You grab your north face backpack and head to the kitchen to sort through the snacks. The backpack gets filled with granola bars, fresh fruit, cashews, and water bottles.

As you are finishing up, Spencer makes his way out of his room. He's in a half zip grey long sleeve, khaki shorts and tennis shoes. It doesn't look ah all like something he'd usually wear.

"Nice outfit" you smile at him.

"Oh uhh thanks, I borrowed the shirt from Hotch and the shorts aren't something I usually wear, but I brought them on the trip just in case." He seems to be blushing a bit. You feel bad, thinking you've must have embarrassed him.

"No really though, the outdoors look, it works for you." You elbow him as you giggle. The blush on his face turns a dark shade of red. Maybe he's really not used to getting told he looks good. This seems a bit crazy to you. He's ridiculously attractive. So much so that you brushed off any possibility of anything happening the night you met him. Spencer was just a friend, and that's exactly what you needed.

You throw on your back pack and lead the two of you out the glass doors and down the patio steps. You make your way further away from the cabin until the only thing left surrounding the two of you are trees.

The two of you walk for a couple minutes in a comfortable silence. You take in the sound of leaves crunching under your feet, wind in the trees, birds chirping. You look up to see sunlight streaming through the leaves of the trees above you. The path is covered by a canopy of green and gold. It's almost magical. You finally look over to see Spencer with a big smile on his face. He's looking around in awe. You have a feeling he doesn't do this sort of thing often.

"Wow" he breathes out. "It's so beautiful and calm. It's almost a bit..."

"Magical?" You interject. He looks down at you in surprise to see you smiling back up at him. He just smiles and nods.

You finally make your way to dock at the edge of the lake. You toss your back back into a red canoe tied up on the dock.

"We're going out on the lake?" He questions.

"Yeah is that okay?"

"Yeah that's ok. I've never actually been in a canoe before, I'm not sure how much help I'll be rowing."

"That's ok, Spencer. We're just here to relax and have fun" you reassure him.

You motion for him to step in first. You untie the boat from the dock push it off into the water as you jump in at the other end. You instruct him to turn around and face the front and hand him one paddle. You call out instructions to help him with pace and directions. After a couple minutes, he starts to get the hang of it. I mean, he has a PhD in engineering, you're not surprised.

Eventually, the boat is fairly far from shore and you both put down your paddles as he turns to face you. You reach into your backpack and pull out blankets to lay across the seats. Then you pull out the snacks and the water.

"A picnic on the lake, huh?" He gives a slight chuckle.

"Yeah" you shrug. "A bit cheesy, I know."

"It's perfect." He glances up at you with a genuine toothy grin on his face. He looks really happy. When you see this you can't help the ever growing smile on your face.

"What gave you this idea?" he asks as he starts munching on some cashews and grapes.

"Well, I love hiking, I love the water, and you already know I love food. So why not combine all three? Plus, there's just something really therapeutic about being in a boat out on the water, rowing, the only sound is your paddle in the water."

"Well I hope you don't mind, I brought something. I didn't know what we'd be doing, but I thought it might come in handy. Um it's not mine and Derek had to show me how to set it up. It's probably stupid anyways."

"I wanna see!" You give him a light shove on the shoulder.

He reaches into the backpack he brought and pulls out a Bluetooth speaker. Next he pulls out his phone and you hear the beep as it connects. You're incredibly intrigued at this point. The next thing you know, you hear the hear the gentle harmonica and acoustic guitar as "Ghost on the Shore" by Lord Huron fills the air around you.

You lean back on your hands, tears threaten to fill the brims of your eyes.

"Spencer... this is really, really sweet. How did you even find this song?"

"I noticed you looking at some of their music in that coffee shop with the music store. I listened to a little bit, and I really liked this song. I figured you would too."

"It's one of my favorites."

The two of you spend more time listening to music,

snacking, and just taking in the beauty of the nature around you. Way off in the distance you hear laughter and can see JJ and Derek racing around on their jet skis. You decide to head back and join the others, music still sounding from the speaker tucked into a side pocket of his backpack. "Meet Me in the Woods" echoes through the trees as you hike back towards the cabin together. Today had turned out even better than you ever could have planned.

#Spotify

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neon-junkie · 4 years

Text

Poor Boy - Male Version

Summary: Sean headbutts Kieran after an argument, giving Kieran a bloody nose and bruised cheekbone. You step in to help Kieran clean himself up.

Pairing: Kieran Duffy x m!Reader

Word Count: 2507

Rating: SFW

Warnings: Minor descriptions of blood and violence

Tags: Arguments, Nosebleed, Bruises, Fluff, Friends to lovers, First kiss.

Notes: Based off that camp interaction where Sean goes BONK on Kierans’ poor nose. EDIT: The bathing Kieran fic is HERE, nsfw warning tho :^)

Female version

You'd overheard Sean and Kieran bickering from across the camp. Sean was as always, calling Kieran an O'Driscoll, winding the poor boy up for being something he's not. You'd not spoken to Kieran much. He seemed very timid and kept to himself. Most of the gang bullied him like their life depended on it, so you weren't surprised that Kieran kept his distance and didn't bother trying to be-friend people. Sean was one of the many few who would purposely go out of his way to torment Kieran, following the poor boy around the camp, shouting at him at every opportunity he got. He used Kieran as his personal punching bag. Kieran would sometimes just accept it and walk away, but today Kieran was fighting back.

"You better stop that," Kieran hissed at Sean.

Sean laughed to himself. "Else what?"

"I'll get ya for it, that's a damn promise," Kieran snapped.

By now, most of the gang members were watching the two argue. A handful of them were calling out to try and get the two to stop, though no one had fully stepped in.

"Whatever you say, O'Driscoll," Sean teased, grinning as he saw Kieran's face go red.

"You know, I ain't no O'Driscoll," Kieran replied as if his words were going to get through to Sean.

Kieran approached Sean as he spoke, pointing his finger at him, huffing. Sean grinned again before suddenly headbutting the poor boy. A loud crack was heard and Kieran fell backward onto the floor. Miss Grimshaw was the first one to march over and begin screaming at Sean. Sean walked away, Grimshaw on his tail. Sean tried to brush her away, making up excuses as to why Kieran deserved what he got.

You had automatically approached Kieran to see if he was okay. Kieran was sat on the floor, his hand clutching his nose. He slowly stood up, watching blood drip down his white shirt.

"You okay?" you asked him, placing a hand softly on his back which accidentally startled him.

"Oh!" Kieran said as he spun around to see you stood there, a concerned look over your face. "Yeah, I'm fine," Kieran lied.

"No you ain't, your nose is bleedin'," you replied. Kieran sighed and looked at the ground. The poor boy looked like a dog that he been scolded far too many times for things he never did.

"Yeah. Hurts pretty damn bad if I'll be honest," Kieran replied, not looking at you. His spare hand picked at his neckerchief and managed to take it off, using the rag to press against his nose. He wiped his bloody hand down his already ruined white shirt.

You huffed at him. Messy boy.

"C'mon, let's get you cleaned up," you told him.

"Oh, it's okay, Mister. I'll be fine," Kieran replied, finally looking up at you.

"No, you won't. Bet you don't even know how to get blood out a shirt. C'mon," you insisted as you softly took him by the arm, leading him over to the lake. On the way, you stopped by your tent, grabbing a few items to wash his clothes with, along with a rag to press against his nose rather than his neckerchief.

Kieran sat down beside you on the pier. His nose had mostly stopped bleeding, but his face was covered in smeared blood, along with a bruise starting to form under his right eye.

"I need your shirt," you told him.

"Erm.." Kieran paused for a moment, seeming rather nervous.

"I won't look," you say as you looked away. You overheard Kieran quietly laugh, followed by the sound of him undressing his upper half.

"Here you are, Mister," Kieran said, holding out his shirt and neckerchief. He had put his hat back on, along with his unbuttoned blue shirt. You could see the outline of his ribs and collarbones, his body was so scrawny and thin. Poor boy.

You tried not to stare, taking his clothes and leaning forward on your knees so you could begin washing them in the lake. The two of you were silent for a while, only the sounds of you scrubbing in the lake could be heard. Eventually, Kieran spoke.

"Erm.." he quietly muttered, catching your attention. You looked over your shoulder at him. Kieran looked away.

"Thank you... I really appreciate it, Mister," Kieran quietly said, clearly embarrassed about the whole situation.

"You know, you can call me ___," you smiled.

"Well, ___, I appreciate you helpin' me," Kieran said as he looked at you. He had removed the bloody rag from his nose.

"You should probably wash your face," you told him. You didn't mean for it to come across so blunt. His eyes widened.

"Am I that bad?" Kieran asked.

All around Kieran's nose, mouth, and chin was red from where he rubbed the bloody cloth against it. He looked like he had shoved the lower half of his face in a watermelon.

"If I say no, will it make you feel better?" you joked.

Kieran pulled a face that resembled 'whoops,' and lent forward to begin washing his face in the lake. You overheard him whine under his breath, not realizing how bad the bruise under his eye was.

You finished washing his clothes, the bloodstain pretty much gone. You saw Kieran dry off his face with his sleeve, then began to button up his blue shirt with the few buttons left on it.

"I need to go put this on the line. I got something to help that bruise also," you said to him as you wrung out his shirt.

"Oh, lead the way," Kieran said as he stood up, offering you a hand. You accepted, letting Kieran help pull you up.

The two of you walked back into camp. You could see Sean glaring at Kieran in the corner of your eye and only hoped that Kieran was choosing to ignore it. You flung his shirt and neckerchief over the camps clothesline then lead Kieran over to your tent. You invited him inside your enclosed tent; there was more than enough room for the two of you to comfortably sit.

"Here," you say as you give Kieran a spare shirt.

"Oh, I don't mind wearin' this. I don't wanna get your clothes dirty," Kieran responds.

"I've seen how conscious you feel. Just put the shirt on, it's your size," you say as you place the shirt on his lap.

"Thank you," Kieran quietly says.

Kieran begins changing once you look away, going through your stuff to find the ointment you were looking for. You quickly find it and turn back to see Kieran pulling his braces up over his shoulders, then placing his hat back on.

"Suits you," you smile at him. You can see him blush, despite how dark it is in your tent. You had given him a yellow plaid shirt to wear, the colour going well with his brown pants and hat.

"T-thank you," Kieran replies, rubbing the back of his neck.

"C'mon, let's get that bruise sorted before your eye swells up," you say as you try and shoo him out the tent. Kieran doesn't move.

"Mister ___, I don't mind doin' it myself. You've already done too much for me," Kieran replies.

"Kieran, it's fine. It's always nice to have someone take care of you. Now come on," you shoo him again and this time, he moves.

The two of you step out of your tent and you instantly notice a bunch of eyes look at the two of you. Kieran stands awkwardly with his feet turned inwards, looking at you for a sense of direction. You look over at the campfire and decide not to go there as Sean was still there, prominently glaring at Kieran but thankfully not you. Sean knows you'd help him if he needed it, but will definitely question you as to why you helped Kieran the next time he saw you alone.

"Let's go sit by the horses, hm?" you suggest. Kieran seems eager and begins walking away. You closely follow.

You sit yourself down, your back leaning against the log. Kieran pokes at the fire, relighting it as you pour ointment onto a clean cloth. By now, it was dark and the temperature was beginning to drop. You enjoyed the temperate pick up as Kieran got the fire going. He soon leaned back against the log beside you.

"Here," you say as you turn to face him. Kieran doesn't have any time to react before you press the cloth lightly on his cheekbone where the bruise was forming.

"You gonna do everything for me, Mister?" Kieran jokes. This was the first time today you'd seen him actually smile, and probably the first time in a while.

"You ain't enjoying me care for you?" you joke back at him.

"Oh, I am. I just... wasn't expecting it," Kieran pauses for a moment, shuffling his legs till his knees rest close to his chest, his arms in his lap. "I ain't had anyone take care of me since my parents passed."

"Oh, Kieran," you sighed, feeling sorry for him. "Enjoy it then, hm?"

"I will," Kieran smiles. The two of you sit in silence for a little while. Your arm begins to ache from holding the cloth up against Kieran's face.

"Here, lie down," you say, patting your thighs as you move the cloth off him.

"You.. you want me to sit on your lap?" Kieran questions, laughing lightly as he gives you a puzzled look.

"No, silly! My arm aches. Lie your head on my thighs so I don't have to hold this up against you," you explain.

"Like I said, Mister, I don't mind sortin' myself out here," Kieran tells you yet again. You brush him off, encouraging him to get comfy. He jokingly rolls his eyes and shakes his head, making you laugh.

Kieran lies back on your thigh and tries not to make direct eye contact with you, feeling a little awkward. He wasn't used to any attention, so to have someone suddenly grab a hold of him and not let go had made him feel rather anxious. He props his hat on the log, his hands resting on his stomach. He watches you pour more ointment onto the cloth then place it back down on his face. Kierans head is rotated slightly so he can watch the fire dance. You notice him fiddling with one of the buttons on his shirt, a sign of nervousness. You lift the cloth up and brush some strands of hair off his face. Your hand goes back to his face, whilst the other remains on his head. You start to run your fingers along his hair, very gently combing it, giving him a slight head massage. He eventually stops picking at his shirt, slowly feeling at ease.

"You need a bath," you pick at him, noticing his greasy his hair is.

"You offering to wash me as well?" Kieran jokes with you, turning back to look up at you.

"You want me to?" You ask him, seriousness in your voice.

"?!" Kierans eyes widen and he's not quite sure what to respond. He fumbles about, a string of 'err' and 'uhm' coming out of his mouth.

"Like I said, I'm happy to care for you," you shrug.

"If I knew gettin' headbutted by Sean was gonna get a handsome man offering to bathe me, then I wouldda got him to headbutt me a long time ago. Hell! I wouldda got him to run me over with one of the wagons," Kieran states.

You laugh loudly, your laugh definitely being heard across the camp. Kieran laughs with you, noticing how your face lights up. He suddenly sits upright, startling you slightly. Kieran turns to you.

"I'm serious. Honestly, ___, you're handsome. You know that, right? When I..." Kieran pauses for a second, rubbing the back of his neck and looking away from you. "When I saw you comin' over I wasn't sure what you were gonna do. Hell, I was so nervous! I assumed the worst cause everybody in the camp is like that to me, but I didn't think you'd help me out this much. I really appreciate it."

"Awh, Kieran. You don't need to thank me, but I do appreciate the compliment," you smile.

"If you ever need a favour, I'll be there. Why, I owe you more than one," Kieran speaks directly at you.

An idea springs to mind.

"I've got somethin' you can do for me," you reply.

"Anythin, Mister. Whatever you need, I'll do it," Kieran insists.

"You could give me a kiss?"

"Wait, what?!" Kierans' eyes widen. "You better not be jokin' with me here."

"I ain't. I think a kiss is fair payment," you smile.

"Well, if that's really what you want, then I ain't gonna turn you down," Kieran replies. There's a nervous shake to his voice and he's struggling to make eye contact with you.

You cup his left cheek, avoiding the side with the bruise. He calms into your touch, finally looking at you. Your fingers brush over his scraggly beard, a lot softer than you expected. Kieran shuffles so he's on his knees and pauses. He seems starstruck. His mind is still processing today's wild turn of events. Nobody could have predicted that Kieran was going to get beat up and kissed on the same day. Kierans fumbling about with his shirt. He was always a nervy little fella, but being on the spot only made him worse. You began to feel bad for asking him to do such a bold thing.

"You don't have to if you don't wa-" Kieran cuts you off with his lips pressed against yours. His hand is on the back of your neck, fingers running along your hair. Your eyes slowly shut, softening into his light kisses. You can faintly taste iron on his lips, along with a stronger taste of tobacco. He doesn't try pushing his luck, slowly pulling away. The two of you open your eyes; he's looking at you calmly but there's a tint of lust in his eyes.

"You happy with your payment?" Kieran jokes. You laugh with him.

"I think I may need more, you know."

"I can't deny you that, not when you've done so much for me." Kieran seems bolder as he sits directly beside you, stretching his arm behind you against the log. You rest your legs on top of his, your shoulder burrowing in the crook of his neck.

"Might have to bathe you too," you purr. Kieran squeaks and blushes.

"I'd like that, a lot," he admits as he lifts your head up gently with his hand on your chin. He kisses you again, this time confidently.

The two of you spend the night making out by the scout campfire. Kierans more than happy with this turn of events, despite the bruise on his cheekbone.

An angry Sean watches in the distance.

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