#because you know you only steal the hats of your crushes to wear | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

banannabethchase · 5 months

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Hold Me to Yourself - also on AO3

Adam watches Matt fawn all over Okada and steal Eddie's hat on Dynamite. It's time to remind Matt who he belongs to.

Matt, this is your fault for stealing Eddie's hat on the March 6th Dynamite. And I guess mine for pivoting so hard on the free use idea I had. I need you to know that. Title from "Anyone Else" by PVRIS.

Adam’s jaw is still on the floor as he rewinds the segment for the third time. It’s not just that Matt’s all over Eddie, though that’s a fantasy Matt’s been loud about for years. It’s the money, and the bitchiness, and the hat.

The hat is what has Adam crushing the Coke can in his hand.

Matt steals his hats. Matt steals his hoodies and his boxers and his blankets. Not anybody else’s.

Adam rage cleans the kitchen with a boner only quenched by jacking off furiously on the couch while watching the segment again. He knows why he’s home – he needs a break after Revolution, needs to step back from wrestling to get his mental health under control. Matt’s crack about suspending him didn’t bother him at all.

But he desperately wishes he were there, because he could shove Matt against a door and fuck his brain out.

As he’s cleaning up his mess, he’s thinking about what he’ll do to Matt when he walks through the door of their house, what he’ll fuck him up against, how he’ll make Matt beg.

Love you – too tired to call. Is that okay?

Love you too. Be ready for tomorrow. Next time remember you only wear my clothes and yours.

He puts the phone down and glances over to the empty side of the bed, and wishes Matt were next to him right now.

Sleep is fitful without Matt on a good day, but tonight he’s tossing and turning, waking up reaching for Matt in the darkness before he remembers where Matt is.

He ignores his alarm when it goes off, knowing he has a different kind of work out waiting for him later that day. Matt’s flight isn’t getting in until a little after noon. He can sleep.

The sun is at an unfamiliar angle when he finally wakes up, and this time he feels rested. He blinks awake and stretches. He’s more relaxed when he thinks of Matt in Eddie’s hat, still itchy but not ready to commit murder as he showers. He manages to make and eat something that’s apparently lunch as he scrolls his phone.

He’s midway through a video of a puppy trying to climb up a slide when a text pops in.

Just landed see you soon

And Adam’s right back in that headspace from the day before.

He’s in the middle of reorganizing the pantry when he hears the garage door open and shoves the newly organized containers of rice haphazardly onto the shelf.

Adam walks into the hallway, eyes on the garage door, and waits.

The door opens. His heart pounds.

“Tell me your safe word,” Adam says, standing firm but steady in the hallway.

Matt lights up. “Oh, you’re mad.”

“Tell me,” Adam says again, “your safe word. Now.”

Matt swallows. “Rancho,” he whispers. He drops the luggage. “What are you going to do to me?”

“Are you serious about the free use thing?” Adam asks.

Matt nods. “Anything you want. I – anything.”

Adam takes a second to let it sink in, the trust Matt places in him, the faith he has that Adam could never hurt him in a way that Matt wouldn’t want.

That Adam won’t ever hurt him again in a way he has in the past.

“Is this part of it?” Matt asks. His breathing is hitching as he stands in the hallway, squirming a little under Adam’s gaze. It wasn’t the intent, but Adam leans into it. “Making me wait?”

“You flirted with another man while I was at home on the couch,” Adam says, keeping his voice as bland as he can.

“I’m sorry,” Matt says, voice tiny.

“You aren’t,” Adam says. “Come here. I wanna see where he touched you.”

Matt shuffles toward Adam. He can feel Matt’s excitement wafting off of him, but he’s playing the role of hesitant and mildly worried so well. “He barely touched me,” Matt says.

“So it really was all you.” Adam walks slowly around Matt, looking him up and down. “Pausing for a minute – is there anything off limits today?”

Matt looks over his shoulder at Adam, radiating honesty. “My arm is sore, but not too bad.” He considers it, and Adam would reward him if that wasn’t directly the opposite of what he’s trying to do here. “The normal no’s, obviously. But other than that, everything we’ve ever said yes or maybe about is on the table.” He flutters his eyelashes, the performance back on. “I missed you so much this week.”

“Good.” Adam steps away from Matt. “Go sit down.”

“Sit down?” Matt asks, and now it’s genuine confusion on his face. “Why?”

“Did I say you could ask me stupid questions?”

Matt’s eyes sparkle as he throws a pout and sits on the couch. “No.”

“Tell me,” Adam says, looming over Matt. “The fuck were you thinking, going out there and acting like a slut for some guy who could never give you what I give you?” It’s incredible, how it feels when Matt looks up at him. The boo boo eyes are at a million, and Adam’s entire body is flooded with anticipation and love and the need to keep this man forever. “I’m not at Dynamite once and you can’t help yourself.”

Matt squirms under Adam’s presence. “I can’t ever,” Matt says. “You know that.”

Adam is fighting the need to touch Matt, to gather him up and carry him to the bed and drop to one knee right there, but that’s not what either of them truly want right now. “I do know that,” Adam says, “but now the whole world knows that you’ll do anything to wear another man’s clothes and pose around him.” He shakes his head and tsks, hands on his hips. “All it takes is a blonde guy and you go feral.”

“I was never feral for Okada!” Matt protests. “It was Eddie!”

Adam grins. “Look at you, telling on yourself.”

“I – shut up.”

“Don’t think I will baby.” He steps back. “Stand up.”

Matt does so.

“Naked,” Adam commands. “Now.”

Matt scrambles to get his clothing off, showing none of his usual body awareness and in ring grace as he stumbles over pants and has to lean against their kitchen counter. He looks up. “Okay?”

“All the way.”

Matt takes off his socks and boxers, standing stark naked.

“Look at you,” Adam murmurs. “No wonder you try to show all this off. All about how pretty you are, huh?”

Matt whimpers. “I thought the free use thing was you, like, railing me on the kitchen counter or in gorilla or something. Not making me wait.”

Adam chuckles, lower than he’s used to hearing from himself. “I get to do whatever I want is the point.” He walks toward Matt until Matt backs into the counter, and he jumps when his back hits the cold granite counter. “See? You’re all twitchy. All your attention is on me. I’ve gotten exactly what I want right here.”

Matt swallows. “All you want?”

“Is that you asking if I’m eventually gonna fuck you stupid?”

Matt nods.

Adam leans in, lips at Matt’s ear. “What do you think?”

Matt turns his head and catches Adam’s lips with his, pulling him flush against Matt’s naked body. It takes far too long for him to remember he’s got a whole thing he’s trying to do and he pulls away, hands off of Matt.

“Greedy,” Adam says. “Look at you. Can’t even follow instructions.”

“Your fault,” Matt says, shrugging. “You got all close and sexy. Not my fault.”

“Is this you talking back?” Adam asks.

Matt grins. “Is that going to get me laid?”

Adam opens his mouth, then closes it. “In a way you’ll absolutely hate, yes.”

“How is that possible?” Matt asks, rolling his eyes. “We can’t have sex in a way I’ll hate.”

“You’ll like it but you’ll hate it,” Adam clarifies. “Love it, perhaps.”

“That doesn’t make sense.”

“Shut the fuck up and get that cute ass to the bedroom.”

Matt’s mouth snaps shut and he scurries over to the bedroom. Adam snickers a little. Matt’s never been good at hiding his eagerness.

He waits in the kitchen, getting out cups to fill with water to see how long it takes for Matt to lose his mind with anticipation.

Less than the time it takes for him to fill two of Matt’s fancy water bottles with water, it turns out.

“If you don’t get in here,” Matt says, and it’s almost as if he’s trying to let a threat linger in the air.

Adam walks in and leans against the door frame. “What? What are you going to do?”

Matt huffs, folding his arms over his chest. “I don’t know. Don’t be mean to me.”

“We’ve been over this,” Adam says. “You like it when I’m mean to you.”

“Not – god, you’re the worst.” Matt’s cheeks flush pink.

“You want me to be nice?” Adam asks. “Is that actually what you want?”

Matt mumbles something, turning away.

“Louder.”

“Eff off,” Matt says, and he rolls his eyes so strongly Adam’s surprised he didn’t roll off the bed.

“Okay.” Adam turns to leave.

“No! Damn it. You’re the worst. No, I don’t want you to be nice.” Adam turns back to see Matt spread himself out on the bed. “I want you to do whatever you want.”

Adam grins and stares at him. “Yeah?”

Matt nods eagerly.

“Shower,” Adam commands. “Relax. Use your nice shampoo, that fancy body scrub you always say you’re trying to save. I can always get you more.”

Matt’s eyes widen and he shivers. “Are you coming with me?”

Adam shakes his head. “Be a good boy and maybe you’ll earn me touching you.”

Matt scrambles to his feet and runs to the bathroom door, tripping over a rogue sneaker that had fallen off of a shelf.

By the time he comes back, Adam’s set up the bed. Matt lights up.

“You got out the fancy handcuffs,” he breathes, almost reverent. He looks over at Adam, big brown eyes wide with carefully guarded excitement. “All four of the fancy handcuffs.” He steps to the bed and touches the matching blue rope. “And the pretty rope.”

“I did,” Adam says. “And you are gonna be good and get on the bed?”

Matt, hair still damp and skin glowing, jumps onto the bed. “Am I gonna get in trouble if I touched myself in the shower?”

Adam raises an eyebrow, then looks down at Matt’s hard cock. “You did?”

“I stopped, though,” he says, eyes huge and earnest. “I – I wanted to, but I want you more.”

“Well isn’t that sweet.” Adam grabs Matt’s legs and yanks him down, leaning down to kiss him. He’s warm and still a little wet, hair soaked as Adam runs his fingers through it. Matt arches against him, legs around his waist, and it’s all Adam can do not to lean in and cave right there.

But he spent twenty minutes on this setup, and he remembers how the rage and possessiveness welled in his chest when he saw Matt in Eddie’s hat, so he pulls away.

Matt lets out a wordless cry, hands extended to him, when Adam pulls away.

“Calm down, baby, you know I’ll do exactly what you need.” He leans down and kisses Matt again, gently, in a way he hopes is reassuring. “Middle of the bed, come on.”

It’s reluctant for a second, with a booboo eye and a half thrown his way as he scoots up, but he spreads his legs and almost presents himself to Adam.

“God, you’re pretty,” Adam mutters. “Okay. Gonna tie you up.”

Matt nods frantically, splaying his arms and legs out like a starfish. “Okay.”

Adam works quietly, only pausing to chuckle as Matt struggles to rub his cock against Adam’s hips, his leg, his chest, anything he can get at.

He finally has Matt in his spot. There’s a lot of slack, intentionally, so Matt can lay comfortably. Nothing tugs, nothing pulls. Matt’s flat on the bed, staring at Adam.

“All done?” Matt asks.

“Not quite.” Adam walks to the vanity and moves some of Matt’s hair stuff out of the way to find the box he’d shoved in the corner. He pulls it out and shows it to Matt.

“It’s pretty,” Matt breathes. “I love that color.”

“I know you do,” Adam says. He brushes out some of the wrinkles in the teal, satin eye mask and holds it up to Matt. “Do you want to put it on?”

“Aren’t you supposed to tell me what to do right now?”

Adam rolls his eyes. “Jesus, you’re impossible. Lift your head up.”

Matt does as he’s told, and Adam places the eye mask over Matt’s face. He steps back and grins down at his masterpiece. Matt’s dick is hard, curved up toward his stomach, as he squirms against the ropes. “Gonna ask again –”

“Good,” Matt answers. “Really good. Keep – if I have to, I’ll safeword, but I don’t think I will.” He looks unfairly earnest, even blindfolded. “Or wait. Is this part of it? Is this making me wait more?”

“A little bit,” Adam says, shrugging before he realizes Matt can’t see him. “But, you know. Leaving it up in the air.” He goes silent and watches Matt.

It’s impressive, how long he stays still. It’s clear he’s trying to gauge whether or not Adam’s still in the room, with the way he’s tilting his head just a little bit.

“Adam?” he calls. “Are you still there?”

“Still here,” Adam says.

“What, uh,” Matt hesitates, “what are you doing?”

Adam chuckles. “You don’t like being out of the loop do you?” Adam walks beside the bed, sure to get to the creaky board. Matt now knows exactly where he is in the room, how he’s close enough to touch, but he can’t move. His hands are exactly where Adam wants them. “You don’t like finding stuff out after it’s important, do you?”

“Is this punishment for the suspension?” Matt asks, wiggling now. “Because I told you beforehand.”

“You texted,” Adam says, and he trails his finger along Matt’s leg just to see him twitch closer to the touch. “You live here, and you forgot to tell me. You had to text me about it.”

“It was – Tony had to confirm it,” Matt whispers. “It’s not, like real! It’s a way for you to take a break! And I knew you were sleeping, so I didn’t want to call.”

“Okay, that’s sweet,” Adam says, sliding his hand up Matt’s thigh. Matt makes a little open mouthed whimper, pushing his leg up into the touch. “But Eddie?” he says, stopping his hand before it gets anywhere near Matt’s dick. “You didn’t have to go out there and look for attention from somewhere else.” He slides his hand back down and Matt makes a miserable little moan. “I was waiting right here at home, and you were out there wearing another man’s hat.”

“It – I’ll wear your clothes, all the time,” Matt says. “I’ll wear everything you want me to. Property of Adam Page.”

“Property, huh?” Adam asks, sliding his hand back up. “I like it better when you’re my good boy. When you and everybody else knows you’re my man, no matter who or what you touch or wear.” He runs his thumb along the crease where Matt’s torso meets the top of his thigh, Matt’s skin twitching under him.

“Everyone knows,” Matt whispers. “Even – even when I get stupid with other people, they know I’m yours.”

“You think so?” Adam murmurs. He crawls onto the bed, having to navigate the rope and handcuffs across the bed. “You look kinda like you’re mine, right now?”

Matt nods. “Always.”

“Always?”

Matt is responsive as ever as Adam slides in between his legs, little whimpers and shifts as Adam adjusts his body.

“Wait,” Matt says, rubbing his thigh against Adam’s hip. “You’re still wearing clothes.”

“I am,” Adam says.

“Oh.” Matt goes quiet.

“You’re thinking loud there, baby.”

“I was just – that means this really is going to take a while.” Matt smiles. “You really are mad.”

“I’m not mad,” Adam singsongs, tracing patterns on Matt’s skin. He smiles as the skin twitches underneath his touch, as Matt’s body shifts to try to get closer. “Just reminding you what I can do that nobody else would know you want.”

“Because you know me so well,” Matt says, and his voice is a little slurred, a little unsteady. “Because you want me.”

“I always want you,” Adam murmurs, and he leans down to press a kiss to Matt’s stomach. The muscles shift underneath his lips, pressing up against him. “So pretty.”

Adam pulls up and sides down the bed. He waits, knowing what Matt is anticipating, knowing what he wants. His cock is leaking, hard as nails, and Adam can’t wait to give him everything he wants.

But not yet.

“I’d say look how desperate you are, but you can’t do that right now, can you?”

“Don’t tease me,” Matt whines.

“You like it when I tease you, right?”

Matt wiggles. “Yes. I hate it.”

“What?”

“I – I hate it but I like it.” He pauses. “Shut up.”

“You were the one talking.”

“You were thinking or something,” Matt says, wiggling.

Adam licks up Matt’s cock without any further warning, lapping up precome as he does, grinning as Matt yelps. Matt shoves his hips toward Adam’s face.

“More,” he pleads. “More, more.”

“You’ll get more,” Adam says. “When I say you get more.”

Matt makes a frustrated, enraged little noise, fury bottled up in pure desperation. Adam laughs and leans in, pressing kisses to Matt’s thighs, to his stomach, to the base of his cock. Matt doesn’t speak, and instead whimpers like he’s dying for it. It’s the prettiest thing Adam’s ever heard.

He doesn’t know how long he takes, but Matt starts sniffling.

“Are you crying, baby?” Adam murmurs, sucking the head of Matt’s cock into his mouth.

“No,” Matt chokes out. “You’re the worst.”

“So that’s a yes.” He bobs a few times on Matt’s cock, hearing a sigh of relief. He doesn’t give Matt much of it though and pulls off soon after.

“No,” Matt whispers.

“What?” Adam asks. “You want more?” He gets off the bed and walks to get the lube, waiting to see Matt’s reaction. He’s covered in a layer of sweat, muscles taut and trembling.

“Come back,” Matt says. It sounds like he’s going for authoritative, but the whimper in the back of it ruins the effect.

“Do you want me to fuck you?” Adam asks.

Matt’s, “Yes,” is almost too quick.

“Then I have to go for a few seconds. I won’t leave the room. I just have to get some things. And undress.”

Matt sighs, dramatic as ever. “I guess.” He grumbles. “Are you getting lube?”

“What do you think?”

“Yes?”

Adam chuckles. “Hopeful, aren’t you.”

“Yes! That’s the point!”

“Yeah, well, hope harder.” Adam strips off his clothes, suddenly highly aware of how hot and overwhelmed he is. He takes note of his cock, looking as hard and desperate as Matt’s. He hadn’t even realized it, he’d be so focused on Matt.

Matt groans, snapping Adam back to focus. “I know this is exactly what I want, but I sort of hate it.”

“Do you?”

He kicks his legs and Adam fights a giggle. “No!” Matt flops back down on the bed, and even without seeing his entire face Adam knows it’s boo boo eyes all the way down.

“What do you want, Matty?” Adam murmurs. He walks up the length of the bed until he can lean down and whisper in Matt’s ear. “What do you want?”

Matt jumps. “You’re close.”

“You are too, apparently.”

Adam’s pretty sure he hears Matt roll his eyes. “I want you to fuck me,” Matt says. Adam grins. “I want it right now, and I’m sick of waiting, and I think I’m crying under this stupid mask, and I’m so hard it hurts.”

“I got a swear,” Adam says. “Maybe that’s all I was looking for.”

Matt breathes slowly. “That’s it?”

“Well, maybe not all,” he says. He leans in and kisses Matt’s forehead above the mask, then down to his mouth. He makes it deep, promising. Matt’s squirming and moaning into his mouth. “Do you want to get fucked now, baby?”

“I do,” Matt half sobs, and Adam’s glad he left a lot of slack in those ropes.

“Got an idea,” Adam says. “Gotta open you up, then I’m gonna fuck you from underneath, okay?”

“From – what?” Matt’s limbs are all floppy. “Never mind. Just – anything.”

Adam grins.

He gets his fingers coated with lube, kisses Matt’s lips again, then slides down his body to adjust Matt’s legs and find his hole. Matt’s cock is soaked with precome, and Adam lets himself feel a little pride at that.

“Please,” Matt sobs. “Please, in me, please.”

“I promise,” Adam says, pressing in, “I will.”

Matt’s not speaking, just shoving down onto Adam’s fingers. He’s already so ready – a little unusually ready.

“Did you open yourself up in the shower without permission?” he asks, pumping his finger in and out easily. A second joins without much resistance, and Adam’s the one starting to lose his focus.

“Yeah,” Matt mumbles. “Make it quicker. You in me sooner.”

If Adam weren’t already halfway to madness, that would have been an excuse to draw this out for another half hour. As it is, he takes the opportunity to go a little faster, to be less gentle. Matt’s already done most of the work for him.

“Fuckin’ desperate,” Adam growls. “You and your pretty little cock want it so bad you break the rules.”

Matt murmurs something, nodding. “Yeah. Yeah, always. Want your cock. Want you to make me come.”

“Yeah?” Adam asks, and the third finger should be enough for Matt, gets him squirming. “God, you’re impossible. Gonna keep you forever.”

“Should fuck me first.”

With a laugh, he stands and arranges Matt’s limbs, shifting them up a little so he can get Matt a little off the mattress.

“You picking me up?” Matt asks.

“A little bit,” Adam answers. He slides under Matt, feeling his comforting weight settle on top of him.

“Oh, this is nice,” Matt mumbles, words half slurred. “This is really nice.”

“Yeah?” Adam asks. “Can’t see me, but you can feel me, can’t you?”

“All of you,” Matt says, grinding his ass down against Adam.

Adam grabs his hips to still him. “Keep it together, baby,” he says. “Give me a second – there you are.” He’d been thorough, careful, getting Matt to tears, just for this moment. He shifts his hips, lifts Matt just a little with his hands, and then he’s sliding home.

Matt’s moan is intoxicating, no words but screaming finally all the same.

“Got what you wanted,” Adam chuckles in Matt’s ear. He moves slightly.

“I did,” Matt whispers. “Oh, I did.” He wiggles. “I can’t really move.”

“That’s the point,” Adam says. “I take care of you.”

Matt slumps against him. “Oh, god.”

“Yeah,” Adam says, and he allows himself to feel smug as he tilts his hips and feels the hot vice of Matt tighten around him. “I got you, baby, you don’t even have to move.”

“I want to,” Matt whimpers, wiggling against him. “I – I want to feel you. I want it.”

“You want what?” Adam asks, rolling his hips.

Matt keeps. “I want to come,” he pleads. “I want you to fuck me and I want to come and then I want you to keep fucking me so maybe I can come again.”

“Yeah?” Adam says. “I think we can make that happen.”

He slides his hands down Matt’s body until one hand can press against Matt’s belly and the other can stroke his dick. It takes a second to figure out the rhythm, with how much weight is on top of Adam and how little he can see, but the noises coming out of Matt tell him it’s going well.

“I don’t – I want…” Matt trails off, babbles and half-formed syllables coming out instead.

“What?” Adam murmurs, working his hips and hand together. “What do you want?”

“Gonna – want to –” Matt cuts himself off with a whine. “Come.”

“Do it.” He puts every command he’s ever had into it, speeds up his hand. “Come for me, baby. Come for me now so I can drag another one out of you.”

Matt throws his head back and barely misses headbutting Adam, but the way he spectacularly comes all over Adam’s hand and his own belly is worth the risk. Adam picks up the pace of his own thrusts, hammering into Matt whose body has gone limp. He moves his hands to Matt’s hips, prepared to move him if it comes to it.

Matt whimpers. “So much,” he gasps.

“Good much?”

“Good much,” Matt says. Adam shifts to look at the mess Matt made, feeling his own orgasm race toward him. He fights it. It’s not about him.

“Tell me,” Adam says, kissing his cheek as best he can from the angle. “Talk.”

“I lo-love when you’re inside me.” Random muscles are twitching, and Adam does his best to soothe over them with gentle hands when he sees it. Matt slumps against him, body chasing and running from the feeling at the same time. “I feel the most like me. When you’re fucking me.” He whimpers. “Oh, god, I think – I think I’m getting…” He trails off and Adam grins as he looks down, seeing Matt’s dick trying to get hard again.

“I knew it,” he murmurs. “I knew you could do it. So good, baby. You’re so good.”

Matt whines about getting old, but sometimes, when he’s in the right headspace, his refractory period is as short as they get. Adam kisses at his neck, slow rolls of his hips into Matt’s hypersensitive body, until Matt’s whimpering and fully hard again. It takes long enough that Adam’s pulled tight like a rubber band, but it’s worth it.

“Oh,” Matt says, like it’s the only thing he can get out. His hips twitch, push back against Adam. “Keep – more.”

“More?” Adam asks, getting his thrusts going a little harder. “You sure you can take it?”

“Can,” Matt mumbles. “Want to.”

Adam doesn’t know how he got this lucky, how the two of them repaired what they both shattered with abandon years ago, how this moment is possible. “You can,” Adam murmurs. “I’ll get you there, I swear.”

They work in tandem, muscles in Matt’s body still twitching but his hips determined. Adam keeps focused. He can’t let go, not yet, not before Matt’s ready. It’s a responsibility he welcomes.

The world dissolves to the two of them, to lips and moans and need and sweat, until Matt says, “I think – I think I can, again.”

Adam slides a hand down to Matt’s cock and strokes. “Thank god,” he laughs. “Because I’m not gonna last long.”

He doesn’t. It’s only a few more strokes and Adam comes first, losing his resolve, but Matt clenches around him and whines, “Full,” and he’s coming again. The mess is slightly less than the first time, but it’s all over Adam’s hand and Matt’s belly and it’s dripping down onto the bed. It’s a mess, a filthy disaster, and Adam thinks it’s his masterpiece.

“Fucking Christ,” Adam gasps, pressing his face into Matt’s neck. “A few seconds, I’ll get you untangled, just – holy fuck.”

“Yeah,” Matt says, his voice garbled. “So good.”

Adam warms, kisses Matt’s neck and cheek. He pulls Matt’s mask off.

“Bright,” Matt mumbles. He shuffles so he can half-see Adam’s face. “Hi.”

“Hi.” Adam reaches up and brushes tears off of Matt’s face. “You really were crying.”

“I told you I was,” he says. “That was, like, turbo edging without the classic edging. You’re a maniac.”

Adam raises an eyebrow. “Is that a good thing?”

“That’s a great thing,” Matt says.

Adam rolls, sliding his oversensitive dick out of Matt and lowering him gently on the mattress. He gets to work quickly to undo the ropes and the cuffs, checking for any bruises or sore patches.

“I’m feeling fantastic,” Matt says, still starfished on the bed. “Just because I can’t move yet doesn’t mean I’m hurt.”

“I’m checking you anyway,” Adam says, pressing a kiss to Matt’s cheek. “No problems with your back? Arm?”

“All is great,” Matt says. His smile is almost dopey, and he rolls over. “Forgot what it was like not to be all tied up like that. Next time you should keep me there longer.”

“I – no,” Adam scoffs. “You were losing it within a few seconds, let alone whatever you mean when you say longer.”

Matt shrugs. “Whatever you say.” He flutters his eyelashes. “Kiss?”

“Of course.” Adam leans down and kisses Matt to find himself yanked in on top of him, covered in lube and come and sweat more than he already was. “Hi. Ow.”

“Ow?”

“My arm is still stuck under yours,” Adam explains, pulling it out. “There we go.”

Matt wrinkles his nose. “There’s, like, so much on me right now.”

“You pulled me on top of you.”

“I mean the…fluids.” Adam is forced to kiss the pinched expression off of Matt’s face. “I have to shower.”

“Me too,” Adam says, sitting up. “Because you pulled me on top of you.”

“Like you wouldn’t shower with me after anyway.”

“Fair point.” Adam rolls off the bed and holds out a hand. Matt takes it, holds it the steps to the shower.

“So, if I were to, like –”

“No,” Adam says.

“You don’t even know what I was going to say!”

“You were going to ask if we could fuck in the shower,” Adam says. “We just did that. You need to take a break.”

Matt rolls his eyes, and it takes everything inside of Adam not to drop to one knee right there. “You don’t have to be right about everything, you know.”

“It’s a curse.” Adam pats his butt and Matt yelps, grinning. “Be nice or I’ll shove you into the shower when the water’s still cold.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Matt’s yawning before he’s even set foot in the shower, so Adam soaps him up and rinses the last of their mess off his body with Matt’s favorite body wash. Matt limply does the same for Adam, but there’s a lot left behind that Adam ends up taking care of while Matt languidly towels off.

“Pick that up!” Adam says when Matt lets the towel drop to the floor. “I’m not picking up after your terrible shower habits again.”

“It’s a towel.”

“Yeah, hang it up.” Adam turns off the shower and grabs his own towel, hitting Matt in the ass with it before wrapping it around his waist. Matt beams at him. “What?”

“I like it that you get to annoy me about house stuff,” Matt says, stepping into Adam’s space and shoving at his arm until Adam wraps it around his shoulders.

“You do?”

Matt nods and they make their way back into the bedroom. “It reminds me that I get to stay forever.”

Adam opens his mouth, unsure of what he’s about to say, when Matt freezes.

“Oh, boy.”

“What now?”

“We’re gonna need to do some serious laundry,” Matt says, hands on his hips as he studies the bed. “I should have kicked the comforter off first. There’s so much sweat on it.”

Adam shrugs and adjusts the towel. “We got an extra in the closet. My old one. We’ll use that while it’s all in the wash.” He yawns. “Jesus. You wore me out.”

“I wore you out?!” Matt exclaims. “I can barely stand!”

“You’re doing fine from where I can see it,” Adam says, fighting a smile.

Matt rolls his eyes. “I am wrecked in all forms of the word, and only my, what is it, fortitude?” Adam nods. “Only my fortitude of spirit is keeping me up.”

“That fuckin’ word of the day app,” Adam mutters. “Alright then. You sit your weak ass princess body down on the chair and I’ll get the other blankets so we can take a nap.”

Matt squirms. “I, um. I don’t think I’m ready to sit yet.”

Adam can’t fight his grin. “The way you like?”

Matt nods so hard his hair flops all over his face. “So good. I’m gonna be achy for days.” His eyes burn as they meet Adam’s. “I’ll feel you even when you’re not with me.”

Adam doesn’t know what the possessive beast clawing at his chest is trying to say, only that it’s screaming. He strides to Matt and yanks him in, kissing him with all the words that catch in the back of his throat. Matt moans and slumps against him, arms thrown around Adam’s neck.

Adam holds him tight. “Let’s get dinner,” he says, pulling away far enough to look Matt in the eyes. “Let’s get dinner, a nice one. Tomorrow night. Where we can pull out the good suits.”

Matt nods. “I like that idea.” His eyes sparkle, like there’s something else he’s not saying.

But Adam doesn’t mind. He’s the one with the ring in the side drawer.

Mini Playlist (yes it's all PVRIS) No Mercy - PVRIS Smoke - PVRIS Use Me - PVRIS feat. 070 Shake Anyone Else - PVRIS

#HangMatt #Matt Experiments #Surprise look what's here!!!#wtf i like wrestling now???#in which sara writes #anxious millennial dreamboat #Matt Attrackson #Mwahaha

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kramercafe · 2 years

Text

Just finished watching What We Do In The Shadows (And rewatching it, like, three separate times in the two weeks since I first finished it. Not an exaggeration and might actually be low-balling the numbers a little) and I just wanted to share my thoughts on it:

Favorite main character is definitely Laszlo, but favorite character overall is a toss-up between Doll Nadja and the Guide.

Kristen Schaal literally kills it in every role she’s given and ngl after seeing her play the Guide I wanna see a fanfic that’s a crossover between WWDITS and Gravity Falls where Mabel gets turned into a vampire (Probably by Nadja, knowing her) and maybe meets the Guide. They’d get along so well. I just know it. Mabel could give her problematic romantic advice from bad 80s movies about her crush on Guillermo, the Guide could give Mabel command of her wraiths for the night only for them to lay waste to New York City, it’d just be nonstop fun for those two!

Fave episode is by and far the witch one. Is it wrong that I really want to see a spin-off that’s a mockumentary about witches now? They could set it in the same universe, we could have plenty of jokes about semen and its many uses (Magnets or otherwise), one of the main characters could see Laszlo walking around wearing his hat and just say something like “So, that’s why Beverly stopped returning my letters.” I’m telling you it writes itself.

Favorite season is season three. Love the whole vampiric council storyline, plus seeing Laszlo and Colin Robinson bond is really wholesome to watch.

I absolutely looooove the Simon The Devious and Laszlo’s witch skin hat storyline. I mean, if the man is willing to make a 150 episode home renovation show just so he can steal a cursed hat, honestly he probably deserves to keep it (But I’d be lying if I said I wanted that storyline to end)

I love how in this show everyone in the main cast is at least a little bit gay. We never get shows like that and frankly I am THERE for it!

I really wish they didn’t just dump Jenna as a character after season one. Granted, for all we know she could still be there with the main cast and we just don’t see her lol.

I really really reeeeaaally want Nandor and Guillermo to just admit they love each other! We all know it! Guillermo was crushing on Nandor for a good portion of season three, Nandor clearly prematurely ejaculated with his wife because the djinn made him think about Guillermo (At least I assume that’s why she was comforting him afterwards. It certainly sounded like the kinds of things you’d say to your partner if they did that), and then Marwa got all lovey dovey with Guillermo at the wedding because SHE LIKES WHATEVER NANDOR LIKES! AAAAAAH!!! Just kiss already, you two!

Final thoughts: I wish we had more shows like this. It’s original, it’s hilarious, it’s gay and gender as all hell, I just want more! Can anyone tell me when the next season is scheduled to come out, assuming we have that information already? If I need to wait a whole fucking year or whatever to see more of these fools, I will scream so loud it will make Nadja cry tears of pride! Seriously, can’t wait for more of these fucking guys!

#sort of channeled my inner nandor at the very end there #what we do in the shadows #wwdits

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kakusu-shipping · 2 years

Note

I'm a selfshipper to, but not with anyone from Dangan. I only selfship with an Owl House character, and they just gave her a really bad haircut (tragic.)

here are some of my Soda headcanons!

I've never considered transfem!Soda before, but I kinda like it! Also, all DR characters are autistic to me because its a SPIN and I am projecting. /lh

That being said, I like him in a lot of ships but don't like, love him in any of them? Like, theres no Soda pairing I'm huge about, but I still love him as a character.

He has a youtube channel for his projects (I think a lot of Ults. would) but its all super low quality and he doesn't show his face. Despite this, he's pissed Gundams animal videos get more likes, despite them being, animal videos.

Her favorite food is sushi, but not any of the spicy rolls! He once took Akane out to his favorite place, and she made him try one of the spicier ones and he almost died.

Also, Bffs with Akane. He hangs around Nekomaru a decent amount too, but him and Akane are super close.

I love a Soda/Miu friendship, but I also think they'd have a bit of a rivalry over who their classmates go to for help and who's better liked. They have the kinda relationship to me where they don't openly admit they are friends, but put each other as an emergency contact.

He had a crush on Kaito for the first week of school, before he became attached to Sonia. She's embarrassed about it.

Was obsessed with Rubik's Cubes before HPA, and can solve them quite quickly! Has some laying around that others can borrow.

Mildly allergic to Hamsters, so he will sneeze when he's around the Devas for long enough. Has a high pitched sneeze.

You'd think he smells bad due to the constant exposure to motor oil, but actually smells super strongly of detergent and clothing products.

His hat is super old, and the only thing he still wears from middle school.

Thats all I can think of for now! ^^

PLEASE also come talk at me about your selfships I LOVE Owl House and I think I know who you're talking about!!! Also please read my pinned or at least skim it, it has all my F/Os on it and some other important stuff at the bottom

I!!! Love these headcanons!!!! I've never thought about Soda being allergic to the Dark Devas but it is canon to me now I am stealing that and adding it to everything

I keep forgetting normal people think motor oil/machine smells are bad smells.. I find them very comforting actually?? Love the worker man's smell good stuff.

I'm shaking you SO violently I've never thought of Soda and Akane hanging out I never put him with ANY of the girls but you're SO correct they ARE besties!! Transfemme Soda X Akane would also be a very cute ship... And the crush on Kaito!!! So true!!!

#Thankyou for asking #I read this last night and then said 'Now is not the time go to bed'#So here I am 12 hours later to say thankyou for the headcanons mwah mwah I love you #please skim my pinned I am begging I got like three new followers last night #I just wanna be sure!! They all looked at it!! At least somewhat!!#Thankyou!!!

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theunexplainable · 2 years

Text

Grian dashed around his small bakery, setting silverware and cups out, and cleaning off tables and counters for everyone that would arrive.

As he finished putting out the bread and pastries onto shelves he heard a knock on the door, making his ear twitch at the sound. Outside stood Mumbo, in his usual suit, looking rather out of breath, his fluffy tail swayed behind him as he walked over to the door.

"Hello Mumbo! What brings you here this early? The bakery isn't open yet you spoon!" Grian said as he opened the bakery door and let his boyfriend in.

"I know, but I forgot to return your glasses last night because I got distracted and I thought I would give you them this morning and then I realized you would be working, and-" he paused to take breath, "I thought I would return them to you while you were just opening, and then I woke up late! And I had to rush to get here! And I was scared I had missed you! And-"

"Alright ya spoon! Just calm down!" Grian exclaimed, placing his hand on his boyfriends shoulder, trying to calm the raving man before he started hyperventilating. "Thank you for returning my glasses, sorry I left them at your place! I was so tired I must have forgotten them!"

Mumbo blushes, rubbing the back of his neck shyly. "It was nothing Gri, I just thought you might want them when your contacts became too uncomfortable." He smiles down at Grian.

"Aww! That's very sweet of you!" Grian comments, making Mumbo blush harder.

Grian then walks over to the counter, grabbing a small candy bar, he remembered that Mumbo always seemed to get it the most when he came to visit the small man. He then walked back to where the lanky man was standing.

"Here, a reward for being such a gentle man you spoon!" Grian said, holding the candy bar out for him to take.

"Why thank you!" Mumbo exclaimed as he grabbed the candy bar, putting it in his right pocket so that he could enjoy it later.

"Anyway, I've got to open shop soon and you should be on your way," Grian explained as he pushed Mumbo out the door and flipped the door sign to open.

"okay, have a nice day G!" Mumbo shouted as he started his walk to his work, waving back Grian as he walked away.

As lunch rush finally finished Grian sat down behind the counter, the stool he sat on seeming more comfortable then ever after running around and standing for so long. He leaned on the counter, resting while he had the time.

"Why are red pandas so cute?"

"Why do you keep coming in at the weirdest times?" Grian shot back as he cracked an eye open to look at the top hat wearing business man Infront of him.

"Just to keep you on your toes!" Scar replied cheerily, putting a hand on his cheek and pressing a kiss to his forehead.

"I think your just mean..." Grian pouted as Scar looked down on him with a loving smile, how did Grian get such nice boyfriends?

He thought about that for a while, long after Scar had left and Xisuma had arrived to check up on him, talking and chatting with him during the break that the void walker always took during the evenings. Doc and Ren also came during the evenings, while Grian was just starting to close up, and there was little to no customers left.

"Hi G!" Ren shouted happily as he pulled the smaller man into a hug, the werewolves tail swung wildly.

"Hi Ren, hi Doc," Grian replied once Ren released him from his rib crushing hug.

"Hello ya pesky bird," Doc replied casually as he silently put several different pastries and candies into his coat pockets.

"Do you guys just come here to steal food?" Grian accused as he eyed Doc, the creeper hybrid caught in the act of putting a wrapped slice of pumpkin bread in his left jean pocket.

"Maybe," Doc stated as casually as he could, slowly putting the treat into his pocket.

"Your not even gonna pay me?" Grian pouted, glaring playfully at them.

"These are payment for ayour pranks, so it's only fair!" Doc countered playfully, sticking his tongue out at Grian.

"I still don't think this is fair," Grian pouted, Ren then put an arm around his shoulders, pulling him close and rubbing his knuckles into the poor man's head.

"I think that it's plenty fair my dude!" Ren laughed happily, even as the shorter man tried to escape the head lock he had been put in.

"Fine! Fine! It's fair! Let me go!" Grian screeched, writhing in the man's hold.

"Thank you!" Doc exclaimed with a grin, enjoying the poor red panda hybrids suffering.

Ren finally let go of Grian, letting him catch his breath, and straighten out his sweater and apron.

"Alright ya jerks, get out of here so I can close up for the night!" Grian Shouted at them, shooing them out of his backery.

All the customers had already left, leaving Grian alone with his thoughts as he swept and picked up any trash that had not made it into the garbage bin. He then put all the left over food in the freezer to be reheated for tomorrow, after that he turned the sign on the door back to closed, and locked the bakery.

"Oh! Grian!"

Grian turned to look behind him, but he already knew who it was.

"Hello you spoon, here to walk me home?" Grian joked light heartily.

"Maybe, do I get something out of it?" Mumbo joked back, wearing a grin under his majestic mustache.

"Maybe!" Grian shot back, wearing a similar smile.

Hope y'all enjoyed!! It's a little short, but I did my best!

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aiweirdness · 4 years

Text

GPT-3 tries pickup lines

Once upon a time I decided to train a neural net to generate pickup lines. Once I started collecting the training data I began to regret it when I saw how awful the existing lines were. Turns out I needn’t have worried. The neural net I used was so small and clueless that its pickup lines were mostly incoherent and confusing.

You must be a tringle? Cause you’re the only thing here.

Are you a candle? Because you’re so hot of the looks with you.

I’m not on your wears, but I want to see your start.

I liked one of the pickup lines so much that it became the title of my book on AI (out in paperback in the US on March 23, 2021): “You Look Like a Thing and I Love You”

Since then, much more competent neural nets have appeared, trained on big datasets of internet text. I’ve resisted trying neural net pickup lines again, because more competent means more humanlike, which in this case means worse. Or the new neural nets might even copy existing pickup lines from internet lists, which would also be terrible. Human-written pickup lines are that bad. But with my paperback coming out, it seemed like it might be time to just try it and see.

So I started with the following prompt, for a neural net to fill in its prediction of what the rest of the article would be like: “These are the top pickup lines of 2021! Amaze your crush and get results! 1.”

I gave the prompt to the four variants of what people call GPT-3, starting with DaVinci, the largest and most-competent. Here are some of the pickup lines it generated.

DaVinci:

I'm losing my voice from all the screaming your hotness is causing me to do.

You have the most beautiful fangs I've ever seen.

I love you. I don't care if you're a doggo in a trenchcoat.

I have exactly 4 stickers. I need you to be the 5th.

I will briefly summarize the plot of Back to the Future II for you.

You have a lovely face. Can I put it on an air freshener? I want to keep your smell close to me always.

Wait, this beanie hat, is it fashionable?

You know what I like about you? Your... Long... Legs...

I once worked with a guy that looked just like you. He was a normal human with a family. Are you a normal human with a family?

You look like a stealth assassin from the clouds.

Do you like...pancakes?

Out of curiosity, did you know that you can sip and snort pumpkin spice lattes?

You look like Jesus if he were a butler in a Russian mansion.

"Your hair smells like fresh mint. It's making me think of a tasty kind of cracker, or a tasty kind of cookie. Also, it kind of looks like a tasty beverage. Would you like some?" -> You -> "....." (Accepts drink)

Next, Curie, a bit smaller than DaVinci. Curie was actually the closest to depressing online pickup line lists out of all of the GPT-3 variants, but it did generate a few interesting ones:

Curie

Your eyes are like two rainbows and a rainbow of eyes. I can't help but stare.

Picked up some pretty flowers. Wanna smell them? Here, try to take my hand off.

I'm like the ice cream...You can keep me in the freezer for a while but then I melt!

Hello, my name is Natasha Dawson and I'm sure I'm a lot prettier than a picture of you on tin foil.

You have the best French Toast I ever had!

Hey, my name is John Smith. Will you sit on my breadbox while I cook or is there some kind of speed limit on that thing?

My name is a complicated combination of 45 degrees of forward motion, 25 degrees of leftward drift, 75 degrees of upward acceleration, and infinity and that is the point where my love for you stops.

Babbage. Babbage is trying. Smaller than Curie, and not always 100% sure about what it means to be generating pickup lines. It also tends to try to explain why its pickup lines are so great.

Babbage

You're looking good today. Want snacks?

How many tattoos do you own?

It is urgent that you become a professional athlete.

I Love You, I Love You, I Love You To The confines of death and disease, the legions of earth rejoices. Woe be to the world!

Butterfly (Hop on one leg)

(In your best Albert Einstein voice) "I wouldn't change a thing."

If you see people with short hair, ask them to let you borrow it for five minutes!

"Have you stolen anything today?"

This line is used by buying a second date. One of the motivations of this line is to avoid the awkward subjectivity of asking someone what you have stolen out of their garden, tool shed, and somewhere else. You may say something like, "Hey, I've decided to steal your car and use it for a short trip from work." This is a super-casual yet shocking pickup line.

"Will you marry me?"

This is a simple one. This line is super effective for anyone. Because it's literally “will you", it is very powerful and intimate. You can do it without even being asked. You can just give a long speech about your dream of marriage, and it will be powerful to your crush.

Ada is the smallest of the GPT-3 variants, and has completely lost the plot. Here are Ada’s pickup lines:

Ada

Body Softening Pads

Limit to 1 purchase in stores

CAPE FASHION

Embroidery tags

Growler style fx

Double Duty Recycling

2017 Rugboat 2-tone Neck Tie Shirt

MONTINA

Future Pop Tarts by Tracey Thorn

Funny Nifty Sweaters – $15.99→

PROJECT CAR ALONG!

I also experimented with having DaVinci generate pickup lines to go with a story prompt about post-human AIs that were using them to flirt. Some of them turned out pretty well:

Hey baby, are your schematics compatible with this protocol?

What's the definition of a femtometer? Cause I'd like to run it through your quark 10 times.

I can tell by your red power light that you're into me.

Can I see your parts list?

To read more, become an AI Weirdness supporter! Or become a free subscriber to get new AI Weirdness posts in your inbox.

#neural networks #gpt-3 #pickup lines #ada #babbage #curie #davinci #butler jesus #MONTINA

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call-me-aesthetic · 3 years

Text

If Twisted Wonderland was an American Public School

WARNING: There are some slight sensitive topics that are featured in here! Reader discretion is advised!

Part 2 can be found here

Heartslabyul

Riddle Rosehearts:

- That one preppy girl who takes all honors and AP classes 😑

- Wants everyone to know that he’s becoming a doctor one day for his strict parents or he’ll dishonor the family

- Reminds the teacher about homework, knowing well that he’ll get slander for it

- Complains about how he got a 90 on his test or a B on his report card, a try hard much?

- Wears a cardigan with thicc but cute glasses since he’s one of those people with can’t see shit on the board so he has to move to the front of the class

Ace Trappola:

- The SoundCloud rapper, that’s it

- “Wanna listen to my mixtape? It’s pretty fire, my guy.” 😩🔥

- You will not miss him BLASTING out some song on his Bluetooth speaker, that shit be echoing through the hallways

- Tells you to stop what you’re doing only for him to either sing horribly or do a backflip, thinking that he’s so cool

- Wears a Supreme jacket with AirPods and waves on his head

Deuce Spade:

- Assuming that he’s still a delinquent, he’s that kid with the most fucked up school record

- Not much of a bully but will still talk shit to your face without caring, might even throw stuff at you during a lesson and you would be the one getting in trouble instead of him 🗿

- If he ever gets mad, it would be overdramatic like kicking the desks, punching the lockers, or walking out of the classroom unannounced and everyone would look at each other wondering wtf happened

- Covers the entire desks with drawings of skulls and those “s” if you know what I mean

- Wears Champion hoodies, wants you to know that he’s broke and rich at the same time

Trey Clover:

- The guy that’s not really popular but everyone knows him since he’s in all their classes

- Most people might have a crush on him because he’s REALLY nice 😳👉👈

- Gives off “older brother” vibes based on the way he looks and acts, like offering you a ride home if you beg ask nicely

- Secretly bakes creme brulee but doesn’t want to mess with the flow so he sticks to the status quo

- Wears the school’s hoodie just because he thinks it looks good on him, and the fact that he doesn’t know what else to wear

Cater Diamond:

- Hot Cheetos girl 🥵

- Has a whole buffet of food in his backpack and will not hesitate to eat them during a lesson, no sharing either sorry

- Excuses himself to the bathroom or full on skips class just to film a Tiktok

- Has about 100 followers on Instagram Magicam and brags about how he’s famous

- Wears a Thrasher hoodie with large hoop earrings and his hair in a bun

Savanaclaw

Leona Kingscholar:

- The kid who flunked their freshman year that also sort of vibes with new classmates

- Always gets mistaken as a teacher by people since he looks and sounds old

- Knows the lessons but still fails them anyways, didn’t really give a damn either 🙄

- Captain of every sports club you can think of, never actually plays but has a lot of knowledge on them

- Wears the school’s letterman from years ago since it used to be his brother’s and that he’s too lazy to buy a new one

Ruggie Bucchi:

- That one kid who NEVER has money for the book fair or any other school event

- Always has to ask his classmates for some cash

- If he somehow does, then he’s one of those kids who buys Diary of the Wimpy Kid or the World Record books

- If he’s feeling cheap, he’ll buy the “cool stuff” like the chocolate scented calculator or fruit snacks 😭

- Wears oversized hoodies and basketball shorts that are clearly hand-me-downs

Jack Howl:

- That one athletic kid who’s both scary good and competitive when it comes to school games like football or soccer

- Literally the best player on his team and without him, they’re trash as hell 💀

- Tries his absolute best to support his teammates without yelling at them for how dumb they are

- “KICK THE FUCKING BALL! DO YOUR LEGS EVEN WORK?!”

- Wears the school’s jersey just to show off his “school spirit”

Octavinelle

Azul Ashengrotto:

- The kid who sell snacks for “charity” but everyone knows he’s keeping the money to himself

- If you don’t have cash or try to negotiate with him, the only thing he’ll do is raise the price up

- “What do you mean you don’t have ten bucks? I can see it in your pocket.”

- Just bring nothing with you, he’ll doing anything to steal your stuff 🤭

- Wears a collar shirt with a tie and khakis that have pockets to keep his glasses and money in

Jade Leech:

- The kid who puts on a goody two shoes facade but is actually a stoner

- Only does “safe” drugs like vape but occasionally smokes weed, mostly in the bathroom or behind the school 🌬

- Can play it off and hide the scent when he’s high, teachers never suspect anything from him

- No one really cares to stop him unless he gets caught or something idk

- Wears clothing that either makes him look like a businessman or a junky, there’s nothing in between

Floyd Leech:

- The kid that’s plays basketball or volleyball just because he’s hella tall, and is actually good at the sports but doesn’t put much effort into them

- Always stays behind after gym, even though the teacher tries to make him leave for his next class 😬

- “I swear after this one shot, I’ll go to class.” *He never made that shot*

- Will jump you no matter who or where you are, and will get angry if you step on his new shoes

- Wears the jersey of any famous team with the latest pair of Jordan sneakers

Scarabia

Kalim Al Asim:

- VSCO girl at best, don’t lie to me now 🤡

- The only words he knows are “And I oop– sksksk.” and “Save the turtles.”

- Walks during a track meet while everyone else is running and sweating hard, the teacher doesn’t care either

- Doesn’t really do anything in gym but talks to his classmates and stands near the water fountain to refill his Hydro flask

- Wears tie dye shirts with cute scrunchies

Jamil Viper:

- That one quiet kid who everybody thinks is a serial killer but he’s actually not, I swear

- He just wants school to be over and spend the rest of his summer relaxing 😔

- Although he shouldn’t abuse his “power,” he‘ll move his hands in his pockets or backpack to make it look like he’s about to pull a weapon out.

- “Chill, I’m just grabbing a pencil.” *Everyone in the class started crying*

- Wears dark colored hoodies that intimidates people but are actually comfy

Pomefiore

Vil Schoenheit:

- The baddie popular girl 😌💅✨

- Arrives to school late with a Starbucks in hand from his local Target

- Fixes himself every 5 seconds like reapplying his lipgloss or spraying Bath and Body Works cherry blossom perfume

- Uses acrylic nails and long hair extensions as weapons during a cat fight

- Wears a crop top with ripped jeans and those clout sunglasses

Rook Hunt:

- That creepy guy in the hallways who tries to get your attention, even if you don’t know him

- Scares people when he says, “Ayo, where my hug at?” 🥶💯

- Uses at least 10 cans of Axe body spray a week after gym class, which stinks up the locker rooms

- Waves at you if he passes your class, even walking into the room just to say hi

- Wears literally anything but always include a hat

Epel Felmier:

- The artist girl who just wants to be alone 🧑‍🎨

- Purposely draws in front of you but pretends like you’re not looking

- If you complement him, he’ll just brush it off and proceeds to diss himself

- “Thanks but I’m not THAT good at drawing, teehee.” *Insert Radio Rebel face*

- Wears a hoodie or a cardigan with big pockets to put his art supplies in

Ignihyde

Idia Shroud:

- I don’t even need to tell you who he is, y’all already know ahaha 🥴

- Sneaks a whole PlayStation in his backpack so he can play with it during lunch

- Is on his phone 24/7 even in class to the point where teachers don’t care anymore

- Tries to get people into anime but only to little success

- Wears a shirt of any anime character or that damn ahegao hoodie, girl bye

Ortho Shroud:

- The nerdy kid who’s known for destroying others at many games

- Plays classics like D&D, Yugioh, Pokémon, the whole shabang

- Daily Beyblade battles during recess with everyone surrounding him, the menacing aura radiates off of him

- Will steal your things if you lose to him but gives it back a week later cuz he’s sweet 🥰

- Wears light up Sketchers shoes and those Minecraft shirts you find at Old Navy

Diasomnia

Malleus Draconia:

- The theatre kid who also goes to band practice, change my mind 👁👄👁

- Takes his role seriously when it comes to school plays and concerts, even if he gets casted as a damn tree or doesn’t go solo

- Remembers the songs and their lyrics to any musical you name, a really good singer at that too

- Plays almost every instrument, you definitely know this since you can hear him down the hallways during a test

- Wears a white button up shirt, black pants with fancy dress shoes, and top it all off with a fricking Rolex watch

Lilia Vanrouge:

- The weird guy who pranks people and vandalizes school property in every way possible

- If you ever get a textbook with a message that tells you to go to a certain page only for you to found a picture of a dick, yeah that was him 😒

- When using a Chromebook, he’ll leave a tab open on YouTube so when the next person uses it, pray that your ears will still work by tomorrow

- During lunch, he is a literal DEMON that mixes milk with chicken nuggets together and having the audacity to eat it too

- Wears an oversized raincoat or a windbreaker but idk wtf kind of things he has hiding underneath

Silver:

- That guy in class who consumes Monster energy drinks and falls asleep 99% of the time but somehow manages to pass the class 🤷

- Whenever he’s awake, he’ll talk to the teachers since he’s basically friends with them for some reason

- Writes his name out of boredom on any desk you sit on but in different places, sometimes around the corners or the sides

- Has a sixth sense because he’ll wake up if you try to draw on his face and if you did get something on him, it’s on sight

- Wears those colorful hoodies that zips all the way up to cover his face with a matching backpack, it’s pretty cool ngl

Sebek Zigvolt:

- That kid who literally knows everything about historical wars and will show it off during class

- Also has knowledge on weaponry, which has people questioning him but he’s just very dedicated on serving his country and people

- Knows how to fight and defend himself from a bitch since he spent his summer at a military boot camp, put respect on my man’s name 😤

- Honestly a great partner for a group project, actually does the given work but not the whole thing for you

- Wears anything that has camo pattern and chunky combat boots

I only made this because me and my friends were talking about our school memories so yeah. This is based from my experience so they might not be exactly accurate. Might even be a part two if you want.

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ynscrazylife · 3 years

Note

hi there! so i saw that you write about the mcu and dceu which is super cool bc i have this amazing idea of a story between me, the avengers, the guardians and the justice league (platonic ofc!) i was thinking about the three teams were preparing my birthday in a yard and while they are preparing everything, bruce banner is picking me up and him and i could get closer in a romantic way (mostly because he's my fav), and when i arrive everyone is suprising me and then we have a lot of fun 1/2

The Surprise Party | avengers, guardians, justice league fluff fic

Summary: Ignoring how they’re from different universes, the superheroes throw their friend an amazing surprise birthday party.

Authors Note: Thanks for requesting & happy birthday!

Request to be on a taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 | DCEU Masterlist | Main Masterlist

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of these works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/gagalacrax on twitter

There was a reason why the Avengers, the Guardians of the Galaxy, and the Justice League didn’t all get together: with that many superheroes, in one space, chaos was bound to break out. That chaos could be, quite literally, anything. From Iron Man challenging the Flash to an arm wrestling contest to Aquaman attacking Groot when he thought he was an enemy. Long story short, it just wasn’t a good idea . . . Until they found out that besides saving the world, all three teams had one thing in common: Y/N Y/LN.

Y/N had, to everyone’s astonishment, been on all three teams. Born as a Metahuman, she had started out on the Justice League team. Then, on a solo mission, she accidentally entered a black hole and bam! she found herself in another universe, and quickly bonded with the Guardians of the Galaxy. Eventually, it was determined that the Guardians couldn’t help her return to her home world - or universe - so she bid them goodbye and sought out the Avengers.

Y/N was the reason they had met. The reason that they knew of each other's universes. Now, seeing as her birthday was rapidly approaching, she was the reason they were coming together once more. Each superhero had their own connection with Y/N and adored her. Batman and Captain America were like father figures while Black Widow, Mera, and Wonder Woman were her mother figures, Furthermore, Aquaman and Thor were her mentors, Starlord, Iron Man, and Superman were like her big brothers, Gamora and Scarlet Witch were like her sisters, and Falcon, Rocket, Groot, Hawkeye, and Drax were her best friends.

There was someone else who fit into Y/N’s life in an entirely different way, though. That was the Hulk, aka Bruce Banner, who Y/N had a growing crush on. Coincidentally, his role in their birthday surprise was to be the distractor. He’d take Y/N out and about, staying as far away as possible from the Avengers Tower, while the other superheroes set up.

As expected, the planning hardly went smoothly.

Tony and Barry got into another confrontation, this time over Y/N’s choice of music (which went on until Mera and Wanda butted in with the music Y/N actually enjoyed), Arthur began to get on Natasha’s last nerves, and Rocket almost started eating her cake . . . and that was only a bit of what happened in the first half of the day.

Meanwhile, Bruce kept Y/N occupied. He took her out to her favorite breakfast place and breakfast was on him and then they filled the day at a carnival park. Bruce happily accompanied her on all the rides she wanted to go on (despite almost Hulking out multiple times) and even won Y/N some stuffed animals by throwing rings. He even got her lots and lots of cotton candy and then let her ride on his back when she got a stomach ache. All in all, though, it was a fun time. So fun that Bruce almost forgot that they had a party to get to!

Which is exactly why he frantically texted the groupchat that they were on their way and had to practically drag Y/N away from wanting to go on the ferris wheel for the third time. When confronted with questions, the lie that there was an emergency mission slipped off the brunette’s tongue -- probably not the smartest lie because Y/N had declared weeks before that if there were any missions on the week of her birthday, she wasn’t going -- but it worked long enough to keep her distracted, even if she was too busy with pouting and grumbling.

As they got closer and closer, Bruce could barely contain his excitement. Not only had he had a fantastic game, he was about to spend the night partying with the woman he had a crush on and celebrating her birthday. Who knows - maybe he’d even ask her out?!

When they got there, Y/N was ready to march inside and suit up, but Bruce tugging on her arm made her stop. Ignoring her endless questions and cries of frustration, he took his time leading her through the tower and into the backyard so the superheroes would have time to hide. Bruce let Y/N go before him and the moment she opened the doors, everyone jumped out wearing party hats and yelled: “SURPRISE!”

To say she was surprised would be a total understatement. In fact, she was so surprised that she stumbled back, directly into the scientist, and with his quick reflexes he steadied her and lightly nudged her forward and out of her shocked state. She had let out the biggest gasp that any of them had ever heard, her eyes went wide, and her hands flew over her mouth.

Slowly, she walked forward, overwhelmed by the sight before her. Not only were all her teammates - her friends, even family - together, but the place looked amazing. There were streamers, a big sign saying HAPPY BIRTHDAY, balloons, even a fake throne that Tony and Bruce had constructed earlier that week!

“Oh-oh my god, you guys . . . Thank you! Thank you, thank you, thank you!” She cried out, jumping up and down.

Everyone smiled. “Of course, sweetheart,” Arthur said.

“Go sit on your throne - presents are up first!” Tony added.

Y/N immediately ran and jumped onto the big throne.

“Aren’t presents supposed to be last or something?” Clint muttered to Steve as they walked over.

“Yeah, but Tony keeps boasting on how good his present is,” Steve replied.

Everyone mingled on over there and Tony presented his birthday present, which was definitely over-wrapped, first. After the squeals she emitted, the others were next. Everyone had gotten her their own birthday present, but Arthur and Mera went over the top when they joined together with their powers to make Y/N something super special.

Afterwards, they spent the rest of the time absolutely PARTYING! They had a dance contest which JARVIS was the judge of and Y/N won, but the next round Y/N co-judged with JARVIS and they determined that Rocket and Barry were tied for first place, Peter and Clint tied for second place, and Bruce got third place. Then, they moved onto playing games (Y/N and Bruce teamed up and they CRUSHED everyone else, because they already had experience working together at the carnival that day) and finally, it was time for cake. Y/N got the biggest piece and, of course, Rocket and Arthur fought over the cake (Groot smacked them).

They partied until the sun came up, where everyone either fell asleep or had someone fall asleep on them. In the morning, everyone awoke, only to see Y/N still asleep, her head resting on Bruce’s shoulder and a blanket wrapped around them both. It was the most adorable sight they had ever witnessed and Bruce carried her to bed while Natasha took her shoes off. The superheroes left her to sleep in and she came downstairs a couple hours later, a breakfast full of waffles, pancakes, anything you could imagine waiting for her.

Permanent Taglist: @natasharomanoffismywife @hehehehannahthings @paulawand @blackbat2020 @cerberus-spectre @marrymemcgrath @celestialbarnes @kathryndimitrescu @snipyloulou @big-galaxy-chaos @cc13723things

MCU Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @summerlovingbaby @ineffablebean @okkulta @procrastinatingsapphictrash @prettysbliss @caseyfish @sarahp-stan @thewidowsghost @basiclesbianbitch @mycosmicparadise @kidswhofightmonsters @xtraordinaryfangrl @peggycarter-steverogers @username23345 @ima-gi--na-tion @yori-nakajima @hi-i-1 @mmmmokdok @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mads-weasley @tenaciousperfectionunknown @afraid-to-be-me @lilclownx @acertainredhead @natromanoffxox @lilymurphy03 @thanossexual @avengersz-biotch @kozumekoi @mjaudrey

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afriendlyblackhottie · 4 years

Text

In Like

Summary: You go to the batting cages with Frank, Mary, and your Aunt Roberta. Of course when no ones around Frank can’t keep his hands to himself. A continuation of Crush.

Pairings: Frank Adler x Black!Reader

Warnings: 18+, smut, unprotected sex, daddy kink, degradation, public sex, sex in a bathroom

(A/N: in the mood for my baby emo dirty boat daddy Frank. Trying to work through the writers block. Unedited and not proofread in the slightest. Like, follow, Reblog 💜 ✌🏾)

Tagging: @titty-teetee @zaddychris @queenoftheworldisdead @olyvoyl @liquorlaughslove @mariahthelioness29 @donutloverxo @little-baby-vixen @mochamaniacbabe @whiskey-cokenfanfic @brattycherubwrites @iam-laiya @love-more122 @doloreshazes (it wouldn’t let me tag you)

——————————————————————————

You and Frank had been trying to be careful sneaking around ever since you hooked up in his car. Of course he’d taken you home to fuck you properly after, but that morning when you left you had to sneak out so that Mary wouldn’t see you. Having to crawl out of a window was a little weird and something you’d never had to do. You got it though. He didn’t want to confuse her.

There were a lot of stolen kisses and him grabbing your tits when no one was looking. The weekly sleepovers Mary had with Roberta were reserved for you. Sometimes you hung out at Ferg’s on those nights you’d fuck in his car before he’d take you back to his place to dick you down just right.

You still came over and played with Mary as usual. It was fun being around the small girl. Especially when she stopped pretending like she wasn’t have the time of her life playing with Barbies with you. You hated to admit it, but you were growing kind of attached.

Clearly it was the same way because this morning, there’d been a little knock on your door. When you’d opened it the small blonde girl was looking up at you with so much excitement in her eyes.

“Hi, Miss Y/N!” She greeted you, hugging your leg for good measure. Frank was standing behind her looking way too good in his white t-shirt. The little baseball hat sitting on his head was so cute.

“Hi, Mary.” You hugged her back, patting the top of her head. “What’s up, kiddo?”

“Can you come to the batting cages with us?” She asked with her head tilted to the side.

You scrunched up your face. “Eh, I dunno. I’m not much of an athlete.”

“Please?” She pouted up at you. “Roberta’s coming, too.”

You sighed. “So what you’re really saying is that I have no choice.”

“That’s exactly what we’re saying,” Frank said with a smirk.

“Besides Frank can teach you,” she said before grabbing your hand. “So, come on!”

You laughed, not budging. “Sounds good, but I have to change first.”

Frank shrugged. “You look good to me.” Of course he’d say that while you’re in these little cutoff shorts.

You raised an eyebrow as he smirked. “Fine. Just let me grab my bag.”

Mary chatted with Roberta in the backseat on the car ride over. You’d steal glances at Frank as he drove because for very obvious reasons. Like him being hot as fuck especially in this beat up truck. Or the fact that ever since that night, the two of you had been hooking up in this truck every chance you could get.

It was pretty fun watching Frank help Mary with the bat while Roberta was in her own cage swinging away. “Your turn,” Mary said.

You groaned. “Do I have to?”

“Of course,” she said with a grin. “C’mon.”

“Yeah. I’ll teach you,” Frank said, motioning with his head for you to come to him.

You groaned, but maybe it would be kind of nice to be a little closer to him. The closest you could be to him with Mary and Roberta around at least. So you sighed all dramatically before standing up. “Alright.”

As you took Mary’s place with the bat, Frank stood behind you with both his hands on either side of your waist. “You ready?” He asked, being sneaky with how he was massing your sides.

“Uh huh,” you said as he put his hands over yours.

“You gonna listen to every Daddy tells you?” He whispered into your ear.

You gasped and turned around to smack his stomach. He laughed. “What! I’m trying to help!”

You shook your head and glared at him before turning around back in your position. He moved his hands back to where they were before. Then kicked your legs apart with his foot so your stance was wider.

You hit the first ball and jumped and got all excited about it. Frank chuckled before going back to how he was before behind you, pressing a little too closely into your ass. This is how you stayed with him trying to flirt in your ear. You ignored him most of the time not wanting to draw to much attention in with your aunt or Mary.

“Alright, Mary’s hungry. You mind if I take her to get some food, Frank?” Roberta asked.

“That’s fine. Here let me give you some money,” he said getting out his wallet. While he handled them, you waited.

As soon as they walked away he went back to helping you. This time tickling your neck as he kissed it repeatedly.

“Frank,” you squealed, letting out a giggle. “Stop.”

“Just happy to finally get you alone,” he said, giving your boobs a good squeeze.

“Stop!” You giggled. “What if someone comes?”

“No ones here,” he said. “Just us.” His breath felt so good against your ear. It was making your stomach tingle.

“So,” you said.

“So,” he said, turning you to face him. “If I wanted to kiss you, I could.”

You sighed, biting your lip. “I just don’t think that’d be a good idea.”

“Why not?” He asked, getting closer to your lips.

“Someone could come at any minute.”

“I don’t give a fuck who sees,” he said before bringing you close so he could place a kiss on your lips.

You moaned into it as he pulled you closer. When he deepened it, pushing you until your back against the fencing. “Frank,” you whispered, breaking away from him.

“Whose Frank? I don’t know a Frank.” He looked up as he tried to play.

You glared at him, but laughed. “Fine. Daddy.”

“That’s better.” He grinned. “What is it?”

You sighed. “Is this a good idea?”

Frank groaned, rolling his eyes all dramatically. “I don’t even care.”

You hadn’t talked about being exclusive yet. So that kind of surprised you. Before you could ask him anything further he kissed you again. Then lifted your leg to wrap around his waist.

You pulled away from him again. You pushed him away by his broad shoulders. Before going back to where you’d been before. “What? We’re here to play baseball.”

Frank laughed before going back too. “You’re really gonna be like that?”

“I’m not being like anything.” You giggled.

“You’re being a brat. I should spank you,” he whispered in your ear.

It was like your entire body clenched hearing him talk to you like that. You hated to admit it, but you kind of perked up your ass to get him close. It felt so damn good.

“See you nasty slut. I knew you liked it,” he said, wrapping his arms around your waist. His hands coming to tease the button of your shorts.

This time you didn’t stop him as he finished that. Undoing your shorts and starting to creep into your panties. “Daddy,” you moaned.

“See. Stop trying to play all innocent and shit,” he said all low into your ear. His voice raspy and slow. “Remember you’re my dirty little slut.”

As soon as he started rubbing your clit you gasped. Moving your hips back against him with the bat in your hands. You turned to look up at him where he reconnected your lips.

The feeling of him this close to you so out in the open felt so good. “Daddy,” you gasped. You leaned into him and you leaned back to put your head against his shoulder.

“What a good girl,” he said in a whisper.

You started beathing all heavy. Getting really into what he was doing to you. Your breasts heaving as you started to feel your orgasm.

The only problem was that you were knocked out of your trance when the door to the gate besides yours slammed. You jumped up and Frank quickly removed his fingers from your sensitive clit.

You hurried to button your shorts up again. At the same time, he checked to see if the coast was clear. Before he could say anything, you moved passed him. “Where you going?” He asked.

“Bathroom,” you replied as you gathered your stuff.

He sighed and shook his head. “Alright. I’ll start packing things up.” He sighed.

As you were in the little single bathroom you were kind of prepping yourself on what to say to Frank. On how you were supposed to even act around him now that you knew he may have wanted more. Not that you didn’t. You’d love more. That didn’t stop you from feeling all nervous and worried though.

As you opened the door to see him standing there, you furrowed your eyebrows. Wearing your confusion on your face. He looked you up and down before pushing you back into it.

“Frank, what are you-“

But before you could even finish asking him, he’d pushed his lips to yours. He slid his hand into your back pocket as he closed the door behind him. He turned you around in his arms, bending you over the sink.

The first smack he put on your ass you jumped like you were trying to get away from him. There was no choice, but to take what he wanted. “What did we just talk about, Baby? What’s my name?”

You whimpered, “You’re my daddy.”

“Good little girl,” he said before kissing you again as he started to tear your shorts down your legs along with your panties.

He bent you over as he started to take himself out of his clothes. “See that’s not so hard is it? Forget it again and you’ll,” he hissed as he got behind you, taking your hips in his hands, “really regret it.”

“What are you gonna do to me?” You asked him as you looked at him through the mirror. Sure this wasn’t the most romantic place, but you were too far gone to give a shit.

He answered by pushing into you. Slamming his cock in your already wet cunt. Making you cry out before he could finally start ramming into you. Holding you on the tip of his cock before sliding you down.

“Fuck,” you gasped.

He grabbed your hips while you braced yourself against the sink. You were trying to be quiet but fuck it was kinda hard when he was fucking you like that. His dick so thick inside of you that you honestly felt like you might be too full.

You looked into the dingy mirror so you could watch him as he fucked into you. You were trying so hard to keep quiet. Just in case someone walked by. You could get pretty noisy and that last thing you needed was to get caught.

His dick always seemed to fuck into you exactly the way you needed it to. Hitting your spot as he slammed into you. It felt so damn good. Your pussy started tightening around him, signaling that your orgasm was close.

“We gotta be quick, Baby,” he said. “Need you to cum for me.”

He set you down before turning you around so he could pick you up. One of the things you liked about Frank was that he’d man handle you. There was something so hot about how he didn’t give a shit. If he wanted you in a certain position, he was putting you in it.

He started fucking into you again. Putting his face into your neck. You wrapped your legs around his waist as he started slam into you. Just trying to get you to reach your peak.

“Daddy,” you breathed out.

“See. That’s such a good slut,” he whispered in your ear.

“Yes,” you moaned into his shoulder. “God, yes! I’m gonna cum.”

“Thats it. Cum for me, Y/N. Cum for Daddy.” He panted as it finally crashed into you. His own movements faltered as he started to cum inside of you. “Fuck.”

He pecked your lips before setting you down so the two of you could make yourselves presentable again. “I can’t believe we just had sex in a gross bathroom,” you said as you finally went to walk to where Roberta and Mary had went to get lunch.

He chuckled. “I know right.” He surprised you as he grabbed your hand. “So I was kind of serious earlier. About us maybe telling them. About us.”

“That we mess around?” You teased, looking up at him with a smirk.

Frank rolled his eyes, shaking his head. “No that we’re ya know.”

“Fuck buddies?”

He laughed. “No.” He stopped walking as he tugged you to him. “That you’re my girlfriend. Maybe.”

You couldn’t help it as a smile spread across your face. “I’d like that.”

“Yeah?”

You nodded. “Yeah.”

He sighed before leaning down to kiss you again. “Good.” He nuzzled your nose with his, his facial hair tickling your cheek. “You ready for this?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be,” you replied with this smile that had appeared on your face because fuck he was cute, as he grabbed your hand again.

#Frank Adler smut #Chris Evans smut #frank adler x reader #Frank Adler x black!reader #Chris Evans x reader #chris evans x black ofc #chris evans x female reader

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spooky-nerd · 3 years

Text

I Wrote an MSR Christmas Fic in September, Sorry

Christmas comes but once a year, or so he’s been told. Which means that he has 364 days (at least) to strategize. And yet, he never quite manages to be able to escape it.

He’s come close a small handful of times. A mere brush with victory followed by crushing defeat. In 1971 he was hospitalized with appendicitis on December 24. Unfortunately, the hospital gave out little teddy bears with santa hats that year to all of the children. In 1994, he tried lying low in his apartment, but Mrs. Sanders from across the hall had dropped off a fruitcake wrapped in red and green paper with a ridiculously frilled bow. The fruitcake had tasted horrible, but then that had been comforting, because he has never had a fruitcake that didn’t taste horrible and would find the very idea to be unsettling to say the least.

Twice he has nearly managed to avoid Christmas altogether. An almost impossible feat, and a coveted one amongst those who bemoan the holiday like he does.

He is not a grinch, as some would suspect, and his heart is not withered and cold. He does not have a propensity for stealing presents from under trees, and he has never once uttered the words “bah, humbug!”. He just does not care for Christmas.

This had come as a shock to Scully during their first year of partnership. She had whisked into the office on December 23rd in a cloud of merriment, smelling like peppermint and humming festively. “So, what are your Christmas plans?” she had asked innocently.

“Well, I’ll probably microwave some popcorn and watch Plan 9 From Outer Space,” he had said in complete seriousness. In spite of his delivery, she had laughed. Probably at the absurdity of it, which likely was obvious to outside observers, he had realized then. And yet, his world-weary soul had lacked the energy to care.

“You’re serious?” She had dropped the smile, and in its place was that frown of disappointment that he was rapidly becoming acquainted with. For some reason, he had felt a bit sheepish.

“Yeah, I’ve just never been one for the holidays.”

“But Mulder, it’s Christmas,” she had said, her incredulity ratcheting up impossibly higher.

“Oh I know, Scully. Trust me, I know. 104.9 started playing Christmas music in October. My building super put up tinsel in all the hallways on November 1st. I’ve been visually assaulted by this holiday on every street corner since the day after Black Friday. I know it’s Christmas. I just don’t really care.” He had shrugged, in case the rant came off a little too harsh. Not that Scully was easily intimidated. He was quickly beginning to learn that too.

She had shrugged, already poised to drop the subject. “Alright. Enjoy your popcorn, then.”

He had smiled. “Thanks, Scully.”

She had paused, turned back to him. He had gotten a whiff of peppermint again, and wondered if it was a new holiday perfume, or just the everyday magic of her. “You know, November 1st is a little early for tinsel.”

Looking back, it is possible that he had begun to fall in love with her then.

* * *

In the four years that Scully has been his partner, he has discovered that she has exactly one flaw: she loves Christmas. The music, the food, the gifts, the decorations, she eats them all up with a little festively-adorned spoon. At his request, she had refrained from stringing lights up in the office, but in exchange, he is forced to accept one Christmas gift from her each year.

Of course, he isn’t a monster, so every year, he buys her a present, too. Usually something quite ridiculous and useless. Their second Christmas together, he had bought her a mug depicting the entire cast of General Hospital. “It made me think of you,” he had said, to which she had raised an eyebrow and smiled, sliding her own present across the desk to him with false demureness. He had given her a suspicious look and ripped into the gift with exaggerated zeal, just to make her laugh. With delight he had pulled out a tie with little green aliens and flying saucers.

“Scully,” he had said, completely smitten. She had smiled and shrugged. He had decided that is was possible he didn’t hate gift exchanges as much as he had previously thought.

* * *

On December 23rd, 1997, he walks into the office and she is not there. It is not a surprise to him, but it is a blow nonetheless. She should be here, bringing him hot chocolate in addition to his morning coffee, placing a gift on his desk wrapped in ribbon so clinquant and overwhelmingly jubilant that it makes his eyes hurt. She should be here, making him dislike the holiday less and less with each passing moment. And if she can’t be here, he should be there with her. He calls Skinner and tells him he is taking a personal day. He does not explain further but he does not need to.

“Okay. Tell her I said Merry Christmas,” Skinner says.

“Thank you, sir. I will.”

* * *

Within an hour, he is at her doorstep with a hazardously overstuffed plastic grocery bag, a six-foot spruce that is growing heavier by the minute, and a gift wrapped in paper that had been sparkly at one time but has now transferred all of its glitter onto his coat.

It takes her a worryingly long time to answer the door. But she does eventually, looking completely drained, a sweater wrapped around her thin frame. She is cold all the time now and she never complains but it has not escaped his notice. She looks exhausted, but it stops his breath how beautiful she is all the same.

She is surprised to see him. Even more shocked by the one-man window display he has become.

“Mulder? What are you doing?” Confusion, but also a smile in her voice that he can see glittering in her eyes, too.

“I thought I’d bring the party to you, Scully.” He is still a little out of breath, but he smiles, and finally she laughs, melodic and joyful. She lets him in.

* * *

With the muted tones of Bing Crosby playing smooth and unobtrusive underneath, he makes them hot chocolate, dons a Santa hat, and gets to work decorating her tree. She sits on the end of her couch nearest him and opens up the little boxes of colorful Christmas ornaments, handing them to him one-by-one with delicate care. He gets tangled more than once in the Christmas lights, each time extricating himself in a flurry of limbs and curses. It’s worth it to hear her laugh. He wants to close his eyes and listen to the sound and pretend everything is okay.

When he is finished, she holds out her hands wordlessly and he helps her stand up. He wraps an arm around her and they lean against one another, admiring the finished tree. He wonders if she knows it means so much more to him than just a nice gesture. Her grip tightens around him in a brief hug.

“Mulder,” she says softly. “I don’t even know what to say. You really didn’t have to do all this.”

They are quiet for a moment. Bing Crosby sings that it’s beginning to look a lot like Christmas. He finds that he agrees.

“I wanted to, Scully. I wanted to be here. The office doesn’t feel right without you,” he says. “Besides, you would’ve done the same.”

She huffs a small laugh. “You hate Christmas.”

“No I don’t.” She looks up at him and he meets her gaze. “I don’t.”

* * *

Exactly one year later, she is safe and whole and mulling over a file, tapping an absent beat on their desk with her pencil. He bounds into the office, over-laden with a diverse assortment of ridiculous Christmas paraphernalia. He dumps it all on the floor in an unceremonious heap, shakes the snow out of his hair, and tosses her a goofy smile.

“Hey, Scully,” he says, out of breath. “Wanna help me deck the halls?”

When they are finished, the office has never looked more unprofessional. They couldn’t be prouder of themselves. Before she leaves for the night, she gives him his gift and a kiss on the cheek. Also very unprofessional, as is the alarming rate at which his heart is beating. It’s just about the only thing he can think about over the holidays, and that in itself brings clarity.

* * *

Her hand is icy where it settles atop his on the steering wheel. He risks only a brief glance in her direction. ‘It’s really coming down out there,’ he had said obligatorily about thirty minutes earlier, squinting into the critical sliver of light their headlights were slashing through the dark flurries of snow.

“Let’s stop for the night,” she says. He nods and gets off at the next exit without question.

They find a motel down a nearly deserted back road that makes them both touch the concealed weapons at their hips just for comfort. The attendant wordlessly accepts their cash and slides them a key.

“You know what’s messed up?” he says as he flops onto the bed after a cursory inspection for suspicious stains.

“What?” she says, rooting through her bag for their toothbrushes.

“I don’t even know where we are.”

She sighs, a weary sound that he has gotten used to hearing in the months they’ve been on the road. Almost four months now.

“We are somewhere in the southern part of Kentucky. That’s all I know.”

“Scully,” he begins, the word absolutely riddled with guilt.

“Mulder, stop. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t want to be.” They’ve had this small scrap of conversation several times. He keeps waiting for her response to change but it never does.

Silence except for her continued rummaging. Then, a triumphant “Aha!”

He peeks out from under the arm slung across his face. “What-“ He stops at the sight of her wearing a santa hat and holding a lumpy package wrapped in newspaper and held together with duct tape. She smiles and inclines her head triumphantly. The hat tilts adorably and the little pompom falls in front of her face. He laughs in spite of everything. In the spirit of the season, she joins him.

“Merry Christmas, Mulder.”

He shakes his head, in awe once again. “I love you.”

* * *

In an unremarkable house, in an unremarkable room, in an unremarkable chair sits a man. He is unremarkable in some ways and remarkable in others. He is holding in his hand a two-inch long replica of a Louisville Slugger that has been made into a keychain. A gas station trinket, unremarkable in some ways and remarkable in others. He turns it over in his hands and cannot help the smile that spreads across his face. It takes him back to a motel on a snowy night in southeastern Kentucky, and he has a mind to stay there awhile.

She walks in at that moment, wearing the most hideous sweater he has ever seen. After a moment of stunned silence he lets out a loud gut laugh. She smiles, spreading her hands in a silent ‘ta-da’. The sweater is red and green, and knit into it are alternating rows of Christmas trees, presents, wreaths, some colorful blobs that inexplicably might be potted ferns, and a pair of kissing reindeer, both of which have antlers.

“You look horrible,” he says, still chuckling. “I love it.”

“I found it at a Goodwill.”

“An ironic name for a store that would sell such an act of violence.”

She laughs. “I’m thinking of adding it to my regular rotation. I could get you one, too, and then we could match.”

“Well, people in town already think we’re crazy. Maybe it’s time to start leaning into it.”

She heads to the kitchen to make the hot chocolate, and he puts his hand in his pocket for the thousandth time that day, touching the small box like he’s afraid it will disappear. While she putters around the kitchen, he stares at the winking lights of their Christmas tree and gathers his thoughts.

Within minutes she is back with two steaming mugs filled much too full, sloshing dangerously. She sips a little out of both of them, burns her tongue, and hands him his. The mugs are hot. She pulls her sleeves up until only the tips of her fingers are peeking out and holds the mug that way. He watches the entire scene, completely enamored.

She throws herself onto the couch with a sigh and it is a Christmas miracle that she does not spill any of the hot chocolate on that horrendously festive sweater. He settles down next to her and sips gingerly from his mug, contemplating the mystery of those reindeer.

“Is it a misunderstanding of deer anatomy or a political statement, do you think?” she says, clearly reading his mind. He makes a mental note to open up an unofficial investigation into how she keeps being able to do that.

“All I know is it’s my favorite thing you’ve ever worn.”

“Aww. Thanks.”

“I am curious about those potted ferns, though.”

“Is that what they are?”

They wait there together, sipping and talking about everything and nothing until the hour whittles down to nil and the clock strikes midnight, Christmas Day. He puts an arm around her shoulders and marvels at the way her head fits so perfectly in the crook of his neck. He presses a kiss onto the top of her head.

“Merry Christmas, Scully.” He whispers it like a treasured secret.

She turns to kiss him. “Merry Christmas,” she whispers back. Then she is up, grabbing his presents. She is eager for him to see one of them, and has been carrying the secret of what it is around with her for weeks. She hands it to him first, and he makes a show of opening it agonizingly slowly. She rolls her eyes and shoves him gently until he picks up the pace.

“Oh wow, Scully,” he says softly when he pulls the tissue paper aside to reveal a vintage restored Polaroid camera. “Thank you. This…wow.” He runs a hand over the glossy surface appreciatively, and then points it at her. “Say cheese.”

Within moments, the photo of her completely unprepared and squinting painfully at the sudden flash develops.

“Ugh,” she giggles.

“I’m keeping it.” He slips it into his pocket before she can snatch it away. His knuckles bump the small box, and he swallows the sudden lump in his throat. “Okay, now it’s your turn.”

He retrieves the gift from under the tree and watches her open it. “Oh, Mulder,” she says, pulling the typewriter out of its box. He’d had to place an anonymous ad in the paper for that one. They had decided at the beginning of their life on the run that they would use only the most basic technology, which meant burner phones and nondigital alternatives. “It’s beautiful.”

It is. It’s an Underwood, glossy white, impeccably maintained. He’d paid a small fortune to a very old man for this one. They had met in a public park. He had paid in cash. The man had brought it in an old shoebox inside a brown paper grocery sack. The whole transaction had felt vaguely illegal. The man had looked at least 100.

“Thank you.” She gives him a hug. She smells like hot chocolate and peppermint. It reminds him of a Christmas many years ago. A conversation about why he didn’t like Christmas. Oh how things have changed.

“Actually, there’s one more thing,” he says when she pulls away. She raises an eyebrow. She hates to be outdone, especially on Christmas. Incredulity turns into disbelief when he pulls out the small box.

“Mulder,” she whispers. Her eyes fill with unshed tears when he gets on his knee in front of her, and if he’s going to make it through this, he cannot look at her.

“Scully, I-“ his voice catches immediately. He clears his throat. “I know that the past few years have been…well there’s no words for it. You are the only thing that has gotten me through. You’ve been there Scully, since the beginning you’ve been there and I- I can’t imagine my life without you. I want so much more for you. You deserve so much more, and I…I wish that I could give you more. But this is all I have to offer, Scully. This is everything I have. I want to grow old with you and, and love you and support you and laugh with you until the end of time. I promise to be faithful. I promise to have your back and to be there for you always.” He takes a shaky breath. “Dana Katherine Scully, will you marry me?”

He looks into her eyes, and he sees everything there. The love and devotion that had started small and fragile and had grown into something ineffably strong. He cannot imagine a life without this woman. Bing Crosby’s voice floats quietly over from the record player, singing about having a merry little Christmas. He wants a life with her, a thousand more little Christmases just like this one, filled to the brim with ridiculous, garish holiday cheer. She takes a deep breath, the words that will determine their future poised on the tip of her tongue.

“Yes. Of course I will.”

- - - - - - - -

Note: Btw, I wasn’t lying about that sweater

#txf fic #msr #the x files fanfic #the x files #Fox Mulder #Dana Scully #txf fanfic #msr fanfic #christmas fic #x files fanfic #mine

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ahatintimepieces · 3 years

Text

In Want of Stitching

I am delighted to present another little fic for the build-a-bear au by @smieska-draws‘ and me! Smieska generously offered to let me post her incredible art above^ with this fic where Hattie is reunited with her favorite doll from her childhood! The doll is worse for wear, but Hattie knows just how to help! Be sure to give Smieska your love, and if you missed it, the previous fic is here. Without further ado, enjoy!

Words: 4,180

Hattie kicked her legs as she perched on the table in the breakroom. One hand was propped back, nestled between Dimitri’s bag and her backpack, and the other held her dwindling milkshake left over from dinner. While she waited for her dad to finish up with the last customer before closing, she watched Dimitri fuss with the supplies on the shelves.

He struggled to pull out one of the drawers and the sharp jostle of the handle caused the whole structure to shift. He froze and Hattie’s eyes widened as they waited to see if the cleaning items up top would tumble. While the bottles wobbled like a spinning toy wavering to a stop, they stilled without any avalanche and Dimitri and Hattie relaxed.

“I’m just going to deal with that in the morning,” Dimitri huffed, turning around. “Don’t tell your dad.”

Hattie gave him a thumbs up as she reached the dredges of her milkshake and the straw gurgled as it sucked air between the last of the frosty cream. While he crossed over to the rack of aprons, her gaze drifted down to the floor. The off-kilter shelf had shifted away from the wall, revealing a large dust bunny.

Narrowing her eyes, she tried to get a better look at the mound of grey that seemed to cover something else.

“See ya tomorrow, kid?” Dimitri prompted, snapping his name tag against the magnet on the wall.

“Probably!” She lifted her chin.

“Boss says a daycare center has scheduled a trip to the mall, so we might be busy,” he sighed, reaching for his bag. She scooted out of his way and nodded.

“That could be fun. But also noisy,” she offered, glancing up as she mentally noted to warn Belle, Mu, and Timmy that they needed to avoid the food court for lunch. Maybe hide in the café connected to the bookstore.

“Noisy is right.” Dimitri swung his bag over his shoulder.

“Will Dad have to work on the floor?” She lowered her empty milkshake.

“I imagine so,” he paused on his way to the door. When she placed the cup down and blew a raspberry as she slouched, he prompted, “why?”

“It just means I have to keep Mu and Timmy away. They’re trying to prove he’s magic and can blow things up with his mind.” Scowling, she swung her legs a little too hard and the table creaked underneath her.

“Is that why they asked him to heat up their—”

“Lunch?” She crinkled her nose. “Yeah.”

Dimitri sucked in air before bursting into laughter.

“They looked so mad when he used the microwave!” he wheezed, gesturing to the other table with the offending appliance. “Mu’s stink eye nearly killed me!”

“It’s dumb,” Hattie grumbled.

Catching her frustration, Dimitri reeled in his laughter and cleared his throat.

“There’s no harm in it,” he tried. “The boss can be a bit eccentric, and it can be fun to pretend, but I’m sure even Mu and Timmy know he’s not actually able to light things on fire or…” he paused, giving her a curious look, “steal souls.”

“They sure act like he does.” She turned away, cupping her chin in her hands.

“Have you told them it bothers you when they fixate on it?” Dimitri asked sympathetically.

“Yeah, and they ignore it because they think he actually does all of those things.” Her glare hardened.

“You could talk to the boss?”

“I don’t want him to know about the rumors.” After a beat, she looked up to meet Dimitri’s blank expression. “What?”

“He knows,” he said dryly. Her jaw dropped and he softened. “Listen, you might want to just talk with him about the whole Snatcher myth if it’s getting under your skin, but it’s not harming anyone. I think it also gets the store more foot traffic from teens, which isn’t usually our intended demographic. So, in a way, it even helps!”

Hattie groaned, flopping onto her backpack and staring at the ceiling.

“Hang in there, kid.” His shoes tapped against the tile as he walked towards the door. “But just talk to him. See you!”

“Night, Dimitri.” She gave a halfhearted wave as he left. Once the door shut, she fixated on the faint buzz of the lights in the breakroom.

Seconds ticked by.

She heaved herself up, bored with staring blankly and too tired to stew in her frustration any longer. After scooting to the edge of the table, she dropped down with her flipflops slapping against the ground. She intended to toss the milkshake cup and pester her dad while he closed the workshop, but her gaze shifted back towards the shelves. The oddly large dust bunny piqued her curiosity once more and she crossed over.

Crouching down, she prodded the clump of hairs and silver dust. A dead fly was caught in the webbing and bits of dirt or crumbs were suspended on the hairs. But when she pressed down, a firm something lay between her and the tile.

Shifting, she pressed her cheek against the wall and peered into the crack between it and the shelf. Behind the dust bunny lay a small doll, crushed and crumpled.

After a precursory check for spiders, she reached back and pinched one of the doll’s puffy sleeves. The dust bunny tickled her finger, and she crinkled her nose in disgust. As soon as the doll was pulled out into the open, she batted the wad of grey from its mitten hand, and the cloud of minuscule debris floated harmlessly to the ground. She gasped when she held the doll out in the light.

Beneath the grey streaks of grime, a missing button eye, the torn right arm, and a left hand hanging by a single thread, was the prince doll that she had loved so dearly when she was younger. Her heart soared, but the doll’s state soon had guilt souring her joy.

It had been ages. The last time she saw the doll, he had been a bit worn, but still intact. She had been near inconsolable when she lost him. Her dad promised to get her a new, better doll, but she loved the prince doll because of all the memories they shared. Despite all her searching and tears back then, her dad urged her to move on as the doll had continued to elude her. And no wonder! All this time, the doll had been in the breakroom rather than home. He must have somehow fallen behind the shelf at the workshop when she had been playing, only to be shoved deeper and deeper into the dark over the years.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered, frowning at the frayed threads where a button used to be. When she poked the remaining button, it wobbled, threatening to soon snap away as well. She brushed back the yarn hair, covered in dust that caused the chestnut hue to appear murky. The felt crown looked more brown than yellow, and ashen stuffing dripped from the doll’s arm and broken wrist.

But… it was still her favorite doll. Though it had been years, relief surged through her chest.

“I’ll clean you up!” she promised to herself, gently giving the dusty, dilapidated doll a soft hug.

She knew how to sew, at least! And she had the materials at home. She could even surprise her dad! He always reacted positively when she showed him the hats or masks she made.

Scrambling to her feet, she carried the doll over to the table. She grabbed a couple of tissues to wrap him up, both hoping to keep him protected and intact and to prevent the dust from spreading in her backpack. She was just tucking him safely into her bag, nestled between new fabric she got from her millinery lessons earlier and a graphic novel that Timmy recommended, when the door thrust open.

She turned, noting her dad’s slouched posture as he removed his apron, which was common on days he had to both open and close the workshop. Holding his hand over his mouth, he tried to cover a wide yawn, but his sharp fangs still glinted in the light.

“Time to go?” Hattie prompted while zipping up her backpack.

“Finally, yes.” He paused, glancing towards the shelves. “Did Dimitri refill the sewing kits?”

She shrugged in Dimitri-solidarity when her dad turned back around. He accepted it without further prodding and tossed his apron onto a hook.

Hattie slipped on her backpack gently to keep from jostling the doll as her dad pulled out his hair tie and scratched at his scalp. He grabbed his keys and waited for Hattie to shuffle over.

Once he finished locking up and took her hand to lead her through the dark parking lot, she mentally went through the list of supplies she needed to fix up the prince doll. Neither she nor her dad said a word as their footsteps tapped against the still warm gravel. But that was normal for them. Her dad didn’t usually have much to say unless otherwise prompted by people or work, especially when he was tired. So, she continued her quiet pondering all the way home, staring blankly at the streetlights as the radio played family-friendly tunes at a hushed volume.

As soon as they got home, Hattie dashed into her room. She swept her arm across her workbench to clear away the new beret she was making and placed her top hat on the hat display stand her teacher had given her. Since she only had one, it was her favorite top hat that got the place of honor. Then, she dropped her backpack onto the ground and retrieved the prince doll.

He lay on the tissues that were now smeared with grey. Even just folding back the material caused Hattie to swiftly turn away and sneeze, jostling him as he perched on her palm. She’d need to clean the doll, but the open cuts in his arms worried her. After prodding around, she decided it might be better to pluck out the dusty stuffing, since his arms were closed off from his main body anyway. The loose button, too, she thought to remove to ensure easier cleaning.

She got to work, walking back and forth between her room and the bathroom as she ferried supplies. If her dad wondered what she was up to, he didn’t comment as he settled down in the living room to quietly read.

Setting up a doll bath in the sink by lowering the plug, she submerged the doll into the water with iridescent bubbles lining the porcelain. His one arm threatened to come off and his other hand floated at an odd angle. Undaunted, Hattie stuck out her tongue as she scrubbed the dust and cobwebs from his hair. The felt crown popped off at one point, and while she rescued it, the original gilded color seemed beyond saving so she decided to replace it. But she kept the crown nearby so that she could copy the size and shape.

Once the years of neglect were scrubbed away, Hattie drained the sink and rinsed the soap suds from the doll. The chest felt heavy with the water, even more than the lolling head. But hopefully the doll would dry just fine.

While wringing out the water, she tried to squeeze the doll gently, intent on preserving the fragile threads. Finally, she laid him out on a towel and used another to dab up as much water as she could. Wondering if she could borrow her dad’s hairdryer to speed up the process, she hurried into the living room.

“Da-ad,” she called as she padded onto the carpet. “Where’s your hairdryer?”

“Under the sink in my bathroom. Why?” He turned the page of his novel without looking up.

“It’s a surprise.” Arcing around the table, she peeked at the title. She recognized it as Ember’s latest recommendation from her book club. Curious, she slipped over to the armrest where he reclined. She leaned over his shoulder and identified Ember’s annotations that lined the margins in pencil, confirming that she had loved it enough to lend him the book.

“Should I be worried about this surprise?” he asked, unbothered by her hovering.

“Nope!” she chirped cheerfully as she jumped back to face him.

“Carry on, then,” he muttered, his golden eyes flittering back and forth as he read.

The amber light from the lamp behind him skipped across the strands of his hair, painting the coal-colored locks with flickers of iridescent violets. With his cheek pressed into his palm and his elbow on the armrest, his gaze momentarily flickered away from the book as he used his pinky finger to turn to the next page.

“Need something else, kiddo?”

Instead of answering right away, she hopped onto the couch and crawled onto his chest. He held still as she flopped onto her back, staring up at the book.

“Is the story good?” she prompted.

“It’s crafted well.”

“But are you enjoying it?” She tilted her head back into his shoulder. He kept his eyes ahead.

“Not really.” He sounded calm as he said it.

“But you don’t hate it?” she clarified.

“No.” He turned the page.

She sighed, not expecting anything different.

Usually, it didn’t matter. But she didn’t want the same reaction if she asked how he felt about the rumors of the Snatcher. She knew Dimitri thought she needed to talk to him about it but…

“What would you do if you had magic powers?” she asked instead.

“What?” That got him to look down. He quirked a brow and she shrugged.

“If I had magic powers, I would make my top hat like a bag of holding. I could carry all my stuff everywhere and be prepared for anything.”

“Oh.” He relaxed and lifted his gaze back to his novel.

“So, what would you do?” she repeated.

“Hm?”

“What would you do with magic?”

He hummed, lifting his head and reaching over to help steady the book as he turned the page. Once he settled back, he shrugged.

“I’d use it to heat up my coffee.”

For a split second, she wondered if he was also privy to Timmy’s and Mu’s speculations.

“That’s boring.” She narrowed her eyes.

“I’m a boring person,” he provided.

She grumbled and he continued to read. Scooting closer to his arm holding the book, she wedged herself into the crook formed by him and the back of the couch. He shifted slightly, but otherwise let her get comfortable. She curled up so that the side of her head pressed against his chest.

There was a muffled crackling sound, like crinkled paper.

“Hey Dad, do you know about the Snatcher?” She tensed.

“You mean what everyone calls me at work?” He managed a snort. “Or do you mean all that talk of soul-stealing?”

She snapped her head up, baffled.

“Y-you’re okay with it?”

“Why wouldn’t I be?” He met her gaze, though from the way his palm squished his cheek and he leaned back, he seemed far from interested.

“Because it’s not true!” She gestured wildly. “Isn’t that something your dumb books talk about? Unfair deformation of character.”

“I think you mean defamation,” he corrected with a sly grin.

“That too!” she insisted.

“It gets us more customers and makes my job more interesting. So, no. It doesn’t bother me.” He started to tear his gaze away, “But speaking of my dumb books—”

“But you don’t snatch souls or eat them!” She sat up, knocking his book back. He huffed as he lowered his arm. She perched on his stomach. “People are scared of you!”

“There are worst things,” he said in a lackadaisical tone. Since he couldn’t read, he swiveled his head in his chin to look out at the living room. He tapped his sharp nails against his cheek pensively.

“But Dad—”

“Hattie, it doesn’t bother me,” he interrupted, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. “Didn’t you have something you were in the middle of? The whole Snatcher thing doesn’t matter. It’s not worth getting worked up over.”

She pressed her lips into a tight line to keep from pouting.

“But why doesn’t it bother you?” she tried once more after a moment.

“Kid, that’s enough.” He wiggled his arm trapped behind her back to coax her off. “Go run along.” He suddenly sucked in a breath and covered a noisy yawn. The creases under his eyes deepened as the shadows stretched away from the light.

Hattie deflated.

“Fine,” she grumbled, scooting forward.

He grunted when she leapt off his stomach, but his focus returned to reading without another comment.

Hattie retrieved his hairdryer and returned to her bathroom, where the prince doll remained drenched. She turned the setting to no heat and plugged it in. While the drone of the hairdryer filled the bathroom, she zoned out.

All this time, she had been trying to shelter her dad from the rumors but apparently, she was the only one who cared that people thought he could suck souls out with his fangs like some sort of vampire who loved to sunbathe and didn’t mind garlic.

“It’s not fair,” she muttered under the whirling hairdryer. She glared down at the faceless prince doll. His mitten hand fluttered precariously while the gash in his bicep caught air and caused his arm to fluff up like it had stuffing again.

Her features softened as she carefully tilted the dryer back and forth.

She would rather her dad wasn’t upset by the rumors, which is why she waited so long to say anything, but somehow it felt lonelier than ever when she was the only one who cared.

With a slight slouch, she turned the dryer away and then carefully rolled the doll onto his stomach. She finished drying him out and placed him on a fresh towel while she cleaned up. And though she passed her dad as he returned from the kitchen with a steaming mug while she was on her way to the laundry room, he didn’t question her bundle of towels under his hairdryer.

Her step gained an enthusiastic bounce when she was finally ready to fix the doll. She carried him back to her workbench and gingerly set him down. For reference, she carefully pried the old storybook from her shelf and opened to the most crinkled set of pages, worn from love and constant rereads under her covers at night.

“Here it is, Prince!” She presented the first illustration of the kindly character with puffy sleeves greeting bluebirds, bunnies, and deer. She winced at the doll’s blank face. “Whoops. You can’t see. But don’t worry! I’ll fix that!”

She propped the book back against the worktable and used the beret and open sewing kit to pin it open. After she grabbed a handful of stuffing from her reserves in one of the drawers, found a button to match his eye, and sorted through the spools she’d need, she finally sat down.

Now that the doll was clean, his vibrant crimson coat and purple boots looked just like the illustration. But the blush on his cheeks had faded and one of the stitches meant to look like laces on his boots had frayed. With steady hands familiar with detail work from all her hat making, she looped thread through a sharp needle and got to work.

Fixing the boot and resewing the buttons was a bit tricky, but once the prince had his eyes again, his blank features regained the warmth she remembered. She stuck her tongue out as she restuffed his arms. At first, she wondered if she could add a little muscle definition but no matter how she finagled the lumps, she couldn’t get them to look right.

“Sorry, you’re stuck with noodles for arms,” she lamented dramatically, tugging out the extra fluff.

His large button eyes stared at the ceiling.

The final challenge was stitching his hand back on, and only because the mitten hand was so tiny. She struggled to keep it in place as she threaded the needle through his wrist. After having to backtrack and redo the area a couple times, she eventually got the hand snuggly back into place. The stitches lined his wrist, mostly concealed by the edges of his sleeve.

Then, she only needed to close the tear in his bicep and was able to hide the work under the gold band of his puffy shoulder. Once she placed the scissors down after snipping the final thread, she leaned back with an exhale. As she stretched out her back, she appraised her work.

“How do you feel?” she asked, cupping the prince doll and giving his arm and wrist a few squeezes. When she tapped his button eyes to ensure they remained firmly in place, she glanced up at the illustration to compare. She jolted.

“Your crown!” She whirled around, looking for the dull accessory that had popped off during the cleaning. Her head snapped down and she heaved a sigh of relief when she noticed it had fallen onto her carpet.

She grabbed the felt crown and procured a piece of scrap cloth leftover from the bright yellow beret she intended to give to her dad when it was finished. Snipping the dull crown to flatten it out, she traced its pattern on the scrap fabric. After she cut it out, she glued the edges together, careful to keep it seamless as she held the ends with tweezers.

“Perfect!” She held the new crown next to the prince’s head. She found a lump near the base of the yarn hair where the other crown had been glued previously and glued on the new crown its place. Once the glue had dried and the crown remained fastened to his head, Hattie beamed at her work.

“You look perfect!” She leapt to her feet, hugging the doll to her chest. “Let’s show you to Dad!” She darted over to the living room, shouts of excitement welling from her pride, but she skidded to a stop when she found him fast asleep on the couch.

She heaved out a sigh that dissolved into a blown raspberry.

Oh well.

Since even the book flopped open on his chest visibly quivered from his shivering, she crossed over to the wicker basket filled with throws and blankets and grabbed his favorite from the top. She dragged it over him with one hand, but when she reached the book with pages folding at odd angles, she looked from the blanket pinched in one hand and the prince doll cradled in the other.

“Watch him for me for a second,” she whispered to the prince, dropping the blanket and trading him for the book.

Her dad flinched in his sleep at the sudden shift, but she was too busy locating his bookmark on the coffee table to notice. After guessing where he left off, she placed the closed book next to his mug, which still had a puddle of coffee. She turned back around to find her dad twitching.

“Dad?” She reached out but recoiled at how much heat he radiated.

While his eyes remained squeezed shut, his chest jerked under the limp doll. Panicked panting gripped his restless slumber but before Hattie could try to wake him, he turned to his side, flinging the doll away as he twisted. Hattie bent to catch the prince as her dad’s breathing slowly returned to a calmer pace.

She placed the doll back on the table, fretting as she watched her dad’s tight brows relax. His long, spiky black hair tumbled over his sweaty features, but once his exhales fluttered out like a flickering ember, he began shivering again. Hattie crinkled her nose, holding the back of her hand to his forehead covered by hair and then to his clawed fingers.

Almost like ice.

Unsure whether she wanted to wake him after that, she tugged the blanket the rest of the way and watched him for a few seconds longer. He usually felt colder at night, often kindling the image of a campfire dwindling as those around it slept, but his sudden spike in temperature concerned her.

Was he getting sick?

A few more moments passed, and he remained steady. Hattie gnawed on her lip but decided not to worry. If she woke him up when nothing was wrong, he’d just get grumpy. She’d make sure to check on him later, though.

When grabbing the prince doll, she found it trembled in her palm. She tried to meter her own breathing to soothe herself, thinking her dad’s temperature spike had left her more shaken than she realized. She calmed enough to stop shivering after nestling the doll into the plush pile next to her pillow. But as she walked away to get ready for bed, she did not realize that the prince doll continued to tremble on his own.

Slowly, and like a heartbeat that just remembered its pulse.

#a hat in time #ahit prince #ahit snatcher #ahit hat kid #ahit dadtcher #build-a-bear au #my writing #friend art #smieska-draws #smieska #*Jessie's song from toy story 2 plays in the distance*#'so the years went by~ i stayed the same~'#'i was left alone...'#i love this au for all the accidental toy story refs we can squeeze in #but also when somebody loved me is just a prince song... look deep into your heart... you know its true #ANYWAY I LOVE THIS ART SO MUCH GO GIVE SMIESKA ALL THE LOVE #THIS IS IT!!! THIS IS THE PIECE THAT INSPIRED ME SO MUCH I HAD TO WRITE THE MOONJUMPER BIT ;O;#LITERALLY HAD IT OPEN ON ONE SIDE OF THE SCREEN WITH THE WORD DOCUMENT ON THE OTHER #DOLL PRINCE IS JUST SO CUTE!!!!!! LOOK AT HIS LIL ROUNDED TOESES #LOOK AT THAT DETAIL ON THE SLEEVES AND THAT EMBROIDERED HEART #HIS LIL BUTTON EYES AND HIS YARN HAIR!!!!!#THE COWLICK STICKING OUT OF THE CROWN!!!!! ITS INCREDIBLE AND DARLING AND I LOVE HIM #HIS MITTEN HANDS!!!!!!!!#I WANNA GENTLY HOLD HIM #okay i'll stop crying now but seriously GO SHOWER SMIESKA WITH LOVE AND ADORATION AND ALL THE FELT HEARTS

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plush-rabbit · 3 years

Text

Bunny!Reader + Mr. Compress Headcanons

Request: hello there bunny! i've seen you've done rabbit quirk hcs for dabi and shiga in the past and i was wondering if you could do the same for mr compress? like a new member of the league having a rabbit quirk and all that mr compress is thinking about the first time he sees them is "bunny assistant" , and it doesn't help that he's getting a little enamored with them, always staying behind to watch their fluffy ears do a little bounce when they walk and the cottontail that he notices it wiggles when they get nervous so he knows when it's the time to cheer them up with a magic trick ~ just something cute about how he'd go about making them fall for him <3

A/N: bunny time bunny time bunny time bun-

When you’re first introduced to the team, Atsuhiro is hardly subtle about his interest in you. He may not have a romantic interest- he does find you cute, however- but he also thinks your quirk works rather well with him. Or rather, it compliments his showmanship personality. You’re plenty strong on your own- your quirk allowing you to have more than the physical attributes of rabbits, but also having some of the more useful tendencies such as a near 360 degree vision and having rather powerful nails and teeth. He’s quick to take your hand and show you around- just a way to make him seem more friendly than the others. He wants your trust- he knows how far that can go in this type of work.

It’s not uncommon for the two of you to go on missions together- or at least be in the same team. It’s easy to tell that he relies on you for the more physical fights seeing as he rather show off and leave the scene as quick as he can. Once the news outlets start to capture the two of you together, it hits a certain chord in him. You’re pictured beside him, your ears tense and face hidden behind a mask and in bold letters, you’re given the title of “assistant”. It leaves a sour taste in his mouth. He wanted you to be his assistant- you fit well with the aesthetic even if he wasn’t dressed as a typical magician. But you aren’t just his assistant- you’re his partner in crime. You’re more than a simple assistant, you’re not the rabbit pulled out his hat- or marble in most cases- you’re the one who protects him when it calls for it, you’re the one who plays along with his idea of having you be his rabbit. Even when he throws away the paper, he can’t escape the fluttering feeling in his stomach at how he’s glad that the outside world realized how well you two fit together. He ends up pulling the crumpled piece of paper out of the bin and straightening out the image of you two.

Slowly, he starts to spend time with you outside of missions. You’ve always been close during missions since you had to be, but now, he seeks you out, asking if you’d like to practice a certain move that he or you might have stumbled on or even just sitting beside you and watching whatever is on the television. He grows to learn more about you- prying further until it’s late in the night and the board game between the two of you has been forgotten, his laughter infectious as he tells you a story of his past. He’s not exactly sure how you two have gotten so close- why he wants to be near you, or why he catches himself staring at you from time to time, or even why he’s suddenly so interested in you as more than just a partner.

Once you two start to do missions more out of wanting to, rather than necessary, he tries to take on a more protective role. He keeps you beside him- or at least in arm’s reach- and if you happen to move away from him, he rushes towards your side. There are a few places where he’s able to move around without having to worry about heroes or other authorities being called, and there is where he likes to take you. He likes to wander with you, letting you pick out whatever you want- sometimes even stealing if you don’t have enough- and will surprise you with it later. He’s sure that you know what he’s doing with the smile you give him, but you always hug him tight in your arms, and he isn’t going to complain about that.

He’ll realize with a moment of clarity, a small “oh” escaping his lips in a single breath, that he’s begun to see you as more than just a partner, but rather as something romantic. He found you attractive when you first arrived, that’s no lie, but he hadn’t thought of something romantic. Truth be told, he never expected something romantic once he became a criminal, he expected himself to be surrounded with those he considered close but never someone he considered a romantic partner. Because of these new feelings that have surfaced, he’s become a bit more. He’s seeking you out, wanting to spend more time with you than previously, even going as far as to insert himself in a conversation that didn’t include him.

Due to spending a large amount of time with you, he’s gotten to know you and your little quirks. He can tell when you’re starting to get nervous- the way your ears tense and how you always seem to hide your hands behind your back. He doesn’t understand why, until he happens to be standing behind you and he swears that he wasn’t trying to stare at your tail, but his eyes had landed there. It was easy to figure out from there that your tail twitches, while your ears stand firm. He tries to find a pattern as to why you suddenly grow so nervous around him or other members of the league and will eventually give up. He can’t prevent it, but he can help you relax afterwards. He’ll grab your hand and lead you to his room, and he offers to show you a magic trick- something simple and silly. He’s found that you lean when interested, your eyes wide and mouth slightly parted as he moves his hands, the object disappearing and reappearing behind your ear. You could call his laughter infectious, but yours is sweet, something akin to a melody that he doesn’t tire of hearing.

The hopeful part of him, maybe even the romantic part of him, likes to think that he’s the only one who’s gotten to know you. Your excitement is something that he can easily tell, the fidgeting that differs from you being nervous, the way you bounce on your heels and twitch your ears, as if adventure really is calling out to you. He once caught you doing a little dance in your room, your smile wide as you hopped in a circle and jumped up- pure energy that leaked out of you and infected your nature. You were so happy; and he wanted to see more of that. He isn’t proud to admit it, but he does lie to you. He’ll tell you that he needs a bit of help in order to do something, to pull off another trick or to practice a sleight of hands, and he’ll fail, miserably and falsely, but he just wants to spend time with you. Late into the night, as you both take deep breaths with sweat thin against your brow, you’ll lean towards him, the fluff of your ears brushing against his bare skin. He’s never felt something so soft, something that had a shiver run down his back and make his ears feel as if they are aflame.

As the friendship deepens between the two of you, the more personal you both become. He holds your hand more often, his gloved hand covering yours. While you have your fair moments of leaning towards him, he’s the one who’s more touch starved- he leans into you, his bicep pressed against yours and head tilted towards you as if you were the sun and he were nothing more than a flower crawling to be in your light. Past the more touch part of the relationship, he also gives you nicknames. He comes to you, a boyish smile on his face and hands holding one of yours, as he wonders if calling you “Cotton” would be a bit too much. More and more, “Cotton” switches to “Binky” to tease at your little jumps. Calling you “Binky” results in his arm getting playfully slapped, your eyes rolling as you threaten to eat his portion of food if he doesn’t be quiet.

In an attempt to make his feelings more apparent- and to stop the teasing from the other members- he becomes more and more present in your life. He wants you to see him more than just a partner-in-crime and an actual partner-in-crime. He brings you your favorite snacks, buying things that he knows you would like, and will often just show up unexpectedly at your door with a pocket full of marbles holding all things that you and him like. It’s tastical ploy on his end- showing up late and sharing snacks, having you grow tired and him playing the overdramatic close friend, leading him to spend the night in your bed. You two stuck strictly to your own sides, only for the nights to continue and the blanket to be stolen, for you to curl up to him, your ears twitch in your sleep and tickle at his nose. He does more and more for you, wanting to be close to you and letting you wear a mask of his when one of yours breaks. Later, he gifts you a mask- hand painted and made for you.

Waiting for you to get the hint is rather painful for the showman. While people may not have flaunted themselves towards him, they certainly did find him attractive and would at least show some romantic interest. Atsuhiro isn’t the impatient type, he can wait and play the long game, but he’s gotten so nervous around you. He racks his brain for the best way to confess to you- ditching flowers since he feels it might be a bit too ironic given his motif and yours. At the end of it, he stands before you, his hands held behind his back, as he confesses his feelings to you. He likes you- a lot. It stems further than just a simple crush, and into something more intense that leaves him aching for more, to want to spend more time with you. He stops midway, his words faltering to a whisper, as he frowns, realizing that perhaps he might have said too much. He starts to retract his words, wanting to dial it back, but the words have already been said and he only stares at you, his heart echoing in his ears and when you step close to him, he’s ready for rejection. When he feels your arms wrapped around him, your ears and tail twitching, he can hear your confession, your words muffled as you hold him tight. His smile is wide as he returns the hug, lifting you up and squeezing you tight, until you laugh and push at his shoulders.

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sugar-quilled · 3 years

Text

ron weasley x reader

request

a/n: i slipped from the topic a little bit, pretty sure what i wrote isn't teasing, and if you'd like me to change it just tell me :)

summary: While visiting Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes, Ron's clothes get sucked into a machine. All of them, except for his boxers.

genre: comedy and (im not sure if this counts as fluff but) fluff

word count: 1.6k

pronouns: not used

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Diagon Alley was packed, as it always was at the start of a term. Underneath a beautifully clear sky, students were seen hurrying to purchase potion ingredients and new robes. Those that had already purchased the items on their Hogwarts list were seen crowding around a new and extremely flashy building.

The store front was painted in a shocking orange color, with a large figure standing inside a window and tipping his top hat to the surrounding crowd below. In neat, gold printing, the store was identified to be none other than Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes.

You entered through the door amongst other eager shoppers, and immediately heard a circus-like music, coupled with the chatter of about 50 people.

Shelves on shelves of brightly colored goods and at least 4 oddly built staircases met your eyes. Immediately to your left was a brightly colored display of candy. Your walked closer, and Fred and George Weasley popped out from a counter nearby.

"Taking a look at those nosebleed nougats are you, Y/N?"

"We've got samples over here if you like-"

"Just eat the red and you'll see the red!"

"And one bite of the other side will stop it just like that."

"And fever fudge!"

"There's only a bit of those puking pastilles left, clearly we're due for a restock, Fred."

"Well, Y/N, welcome to our shop and go enjoy yourself! Call us if you need any help and we'll be right by your side in a jiffy. Now come on, George, one kid over there looks mightily suspicious."

You smiled after the twins' backs, not even angry that they hadn't let you get a word in, when you spotted Ron Weasley taking a look at Headless Hats—now on sale for 1 galleon and 8 sickles! Your previous conversation (could you even call it a conversation?) with the twins immediately left your brain and you made your way over.

Ron had been a long time crush of yours. In fact, the two year anniversary of your feelings was yesterday, and you celebrated by having a whole-hearted sobbing fest while your friends stared awkwardly at each other and tried to console you. Not that your friendship wasn't something to be happy about, but Merlin you just wished you could hold his hand. Romantically. You didn't think Ron could ever like you, what with his being best friends with Hermione Granger who was both insanely smart and jaw-droppingly gorgeous.

"Ron! It's nice to see you!"

He immediately swung around and burst into a very toothy grin. "Y/N! It's nice to see you too! What's up?"

You smiled back. "Nothing much! Your brothers' shop is gorgeous! The, uhh, those nosebleed nougats are really fascinating. And you? How was your summer?"

Ron put a headless hat down and strode closer to you to check out a row of punching telescopes. "Quite uneventful, to be honest. But yeah this stuff they came up with? Have you seen the smart-answer quills? Blimey I'd never have to ask Hermione for help again! And those fainting fancies. Reckon Snape'll believe one of those?"

You laughed. "Are you planning to faint during a lecture? It's our N.E.W.T year, you'll need all the information you can get."

Just then, Fred and George appeared right behind you.

"Having a good conversation, Ron?" Fred said cheerfully, elbowing Ron in the ribs—"Ow, Fred leave us alone!"—"Do you two want to check out the back?"

"Just don't steal anything, Y/N," George winked.

"Unless that something is Ron's heart," Fred muttered. Or you thought he muttered. But the twins' expressions had been wiped blank so that you couldn't tell whether Fred had really said it, and Ron had busied himself in untangling two extendable ears, so whether he had blushed or hadn't, you also couldn't tell.

"Lead the way, George!" Fred chortled, and swept away.

"Alright then. Right this way, you two!"

George led you and Ron, whose mouth seemed to be clamped shut, weaving past shelves higher than you to a door at the very back of the store. A small plaque on the door said: "Weasleys Working: In Progress." He twisted open the door, and beckoned both of you in. Right in front of you was a huge lab and packaging station. You could see potions brewing to your right, and to your left, there were two witches packaging a box of puking pastilles.

"So," George started, "welcome to our work station! Y/N, you might have seen a big gray thing over there upon entrance." He pointed. You looked. "That is actually something we've just installed in and its a bit of muggle machinery. Michelle and Rosalyn over there," he nodded towards the two witches, "used to have to do all the wand work manually but this big old thing makes some parts automatic. Quite useful!"

You stared at the big metal machine. There was a sort of chute at one end, and a big pipe leading up and into the ceiling.

"Well, I'll leave you two to it, and Michelle and Rosalyn," he called, "would you mind helping me out in the main area? Fred's left to check on the upstairs, and there's too many people waiting in line for purchasing." George gave Ron a ginormous wink, and left the room. The door swung back and clicked to a close.

You walked over to the muggle machine, very aware of Ron trailing behind you.

"Blimey, that thing's big. What does it even do?"

"I don't know, it looks like something that deposits goods into this bin under it. I'm not really sure where the goods come from though."

Ron circled the massive thing twice, and the second time, he tripped over a wire. Thankfully, he managed to stand himself upright with one hand leaning on the machine.

You laughed at him, and he looked embarrassedly back with a forced chuckle.

Then there was a loud whirring noise, and as Ron turned around in fright, the thing began sucking.

You were wrong. It didn't deposit things. It took them to be deposited.

With a frantic yell and many grabs at a nearby table, Ron's clothes ripped off. The machine sent them rattling through the chute and the whirring noise came to a stop.

Well. Not all of his clothes.

Ron was left standing in a pair of heart adorned boxers. Red hearts.

He tried his best to cover himself, but seeing as he only had two hands and more than two things on display, it was quite difficult.

You realized that you were staring and quickly looked away.

Ron was carefully looking at anywhere but your face.

After quite a long time's silence, your croaked out, "nice boxers, uh... dude," while looking at the ceiling. A giggle escaped despite your attempts at keeping it in, and you were sure Ron's face now matched the color of his hair.

"If you tell this to Gred- I mean, Fred or Gor- George, I'll-" he started shakily, "I'll die."

Seeing as he wasn't threatening you and assuming this meant friendly conversation could be engaged, you stammered, "they really suit you. You know, the red and all. Although I'd suggest a green pair next time. Because of the color wheel and those two are compl-"

Ron had burst into shaky, suppressed laughter.

"Never- never mind my fashion choices, how the bloody hell am I supposed to get my clothes back?"

"Well I don't see why you want them back. I mean think of the ladies you'd get by walking down the street with this lovely attire. Maybe for accessories you can add a bit more red by eating a nosebleed nougat, I'm sure I saw a few when I entered."

Both of you were laughing now, but a yell of shock from upstairs made both of you jolt.

"Oh no, no, no," Ron muttered, darting his eyes around as if trying to find a hiding spot, "Fred's upstairs, he knows what I was wearing, oh no, no-"

The door swung open. Fred was standing in the doorway looking highly amused.

"Ron, I thought you said you'd never wear those! Aunty Muriel will be pleased her present wasn't a waste of money!" Fred exclaimed, striding into the room and circling Ron, who was shaking fiercely. "They do compliment your hair, maybe I'll have to borrow the pair one day."

You choked back a laugh, bursting a vein for sure, when Fred rounded on you.

"I didn't know you two were already on this level of your relationship. Looks like Ron here neglected to tell me some bits!" Fred said cheerfully, waving his wand so that Ron looked perfectly normal again, except that his entire face was now the same color as the hearts on the boxers underneath the normality.

"Well I daresay you two have looked around, I was up there nearly 10 minutes," Fred continued, gesturing towards the door, "and Y/N, regrettably we have no products that erase recent memories-"

"Shut up," Ron muttered, walking towards the door.

"-but the idea is certainly a brilliant one and I'll be sure to start developing it." Fred gave a hearty wink as both Ron and you had exited the room, and closed the door.

You looked at Ron. He looked back.

"Well you know I never said I wanted to erase that memory. You did look quite marvelous."

Ron laughed, though his face still looked like he supported the UK Quidditch team.

"You should really take my suggestion of that green pair, and I wouldn't mind seeing how that looks either."

Both of you doubled over in laughter.

"And," you choked, "a pair of shoes to match wouldn't hurt either, though I daresay you'd rather go barefoot? Shoes shouldn't be worn to bed, after all."

There were definitely tears coming out your eyes now, and the two of you stumbled drunkily, still shaking with laughter, out the shop and down the ever so full streets of Diagon Alley.

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fayeimara · 3 years

Text

Sakusa Kiyoomi || Small Moments

SUMMARY. You're looking forward to the first date you and Sakusa have had in a little while thanks to both of your busy schedules when Kiyo seems reluctant to go.

PAIRING. Sakusa Kiyoomi x you

GENRE. Pure Fluff

WARNINGS. Potentially suggestive

Sunlight filters through the sheer curtains of your bedroom's bay windows, casting a glow over your eyelids just before you completely rouse from your sleep. Eyes still closed, as your awareness slowly slips in, your hand curls back in towards you, seeking the warmth emanating from the arm wrapped tight around your waist.

The unmistakable heat of your boyfriend becomes more prevalent, urging you to wiggle backwards ever so slightly and close the remaining gap between your bodies. Sliding your hand from its landed spot on Kiyoomi's toned forearm down to his hand to twine your finger with his, your eyes finally open to the rays and land on the rainbow pattern splayed on the white silk of your pillow.

Today you and Sakusa will be spending a long awaited day together, out on a classic date that you have both been denied in recent weeks thanks, in part, to each of your demanding schedules. Just as a lazy but delighted smile stretches your lips, you feel him stir behind you only to giggle as he leans his head to nuzzle into your neck with a light groan.

His hand shifts against you when you turn to face him, sliding just to help his arm keep its position around you as you move, and then you're looking into shadowed eyes that study you in return. He doesn't say anything for a minute, long enough to make you feel uncharacteristically shy and duck your head down into his chest, burrowing into what has long become your favourite place to hide in these small moments.

But it seems that's the spark which finally compels Kiyo to move his arm from his coveted spot around you, but only for a moment, as his fingers find your cheek and feather down to follow the curve of your jaw before tilting your head back up to face him. You don't provide any resistance, already reaching up with your face and hands, the latter seeking purchase in his soft locks as he places the lightest kiss against your wanting lips.

Both of you pulling away, Kiyoomi with a small smile and you with a flirty smirk, you bid each other good morning. Another one of those small moments you cherish, to be able to enjoy the constant familiarity of your boyfriend waking up next to you but this time during a rare, slow morning where you both can indulge in its indolence.

The moment passes seemingly as quickly as it swept in as restlessness soaks into your skin, compelling movement as you once again begin to contemplate your planned activities for your date with Kiyo today. You're looking forward to spending the day with him in the sun, having planned a spot for a picnic lunch before taking a stroll through the sprawling park. You also have reservations for the night at a special, upscale restaurant that will meet both his standards and yours, with a stunning view of the city laid out beneath you.

You pull away from Sakusa with another chaste kiss, even as he gently tries to persuade you to stay a little longer, and pad into the washroom to brush your teeth and wash up for the day. Eyeing Sakusa's features in the mirror as he follows you in, you don't address his hesitant but prickly demeanor, smiling at him brightly instead as you finish up before heading out through the room and halls and into your kitchen.

A pot of French press is prepared without thought, the motions an ingrained habit by now, as you pull out ingredients from the fridge to prepare the smoked salmon eggs benedict for your brunch. Setting up the mise en place, Kiyo is soon beside you to help with the hollandaise and eggs, nudging you out of the way with his hip until you give in and retreat from the stove.

Perching on the bar stools lined up with the kitchen island, you pour out the coffee into two mugs, doctoring each to your respective tastes before pushing his across the counter towards him with the tips of your fingers at its base.

You've barely exchanged more than whispered words of good morning but you're so attuned to him, you know there's something waiting at the tip of his tongue, a reluctance that's tangible to you due to years of picking up on his tells.

Sakusa stares into the pale yellow swirl of the sauce he's stirring as he debates how to bring up the thought on his mind. You've been looking forward to this day for weeks, he has as well, it's just that now it's finally arrived... he'd like nothing better than to follow the pace that seemed fated from the very start of your day together.

His schedule has been grueling and he wants nothing more to curl up with you at home and enjoy a lazy day indoors, not head out into the crush of the weekend crowd in uncontrolled environments where he'll likely be on constant guard. Here, everything is safe and comfortable, clean and devoid of all distractions but the woman he loves.

Low on energy and conflicted at the thought of being selfish by voicing his own desires, he decides to keep quiet and follow the activities you have planned for the two of you today. If nothing else, the breathtaking smile of joy that lights your face will be worth the compromise.

Turning away to the island to place the poached eggs on the English muffins, he can't help but glance your way to study your expression. He doesn't expect to meet your eyes, finding you watching him with a small, wry smile as you stand and lean forward to add the smoked salmon atop the eggs, so he freezes momentarily before turning back to exchange the items in his hand for the pot of hollandaise.

"Omi." Your voice breaks the easy, thoughtful silence permeating the kitchen as he spoons the sauce over the salmon and sprinkles a dusting of chives to finish the brunch you'd started. You only call him by that nickname when you're neutral, likely coaxing for information that you're sure he's withholding.

After another beat, his deep voice finally filters at its usual calm, steady volume, "Yes, sweetheart?"

He still doesn't meet your eyes and you resort to your most cajoling tone, softly and sweetly asking, "Is there something you want to tell me?"

"Brunch is ready?" His eyes lift to yours then, with a teasing glint and a slight smirk to match curving his lips.

"Hm."

He takes your plate and his to the breakfast table in its spacious nook, surrounded by windows on three sides that allow the warm sunlight to caress your skin as you follow to your seat with the coffees and cutlery.

The first bite melts in your mouth with perfect heat, the mix of flavours prompting you to close your eyes and hum in appreciation. When you open them again, you catch Kiyo with his fork paused on its ascent to his mouth, staring at you with widened eyes before blinking as if to unfreeze.

You let out an amused laugh when his own hum follows shortly after. It's a nice moment but-

"Kiyo-"

"I don't know where you picked this up as a favourite, but I'm so glad you did." Cutting in, he compliments your choice of meal between bites.

You can't help it when another smirk slides over your lips, "Well, I am a loyalist. I hold on tight when I find something I love.

You and Kiyo connect eyes yet again and share a sweet smile at your words in yet another small moment that exists just for the two of you.

The third time's the charm, clearly, because his deflections work and you drop the subject for the rest of your brunch. Considering the scarcity of the time you were able to steal away together these past weeks, your morning meal is soon filled with funny anecdotes that slipped between the cracks and thoughtful insights regarding the events of your friends and family that you both continue to be looped in on.

It's not until early afternoon, as you've slipped into a breezy summer outfit - complete with a flowing thigh-length dress, floppy hat, and strappy sandals, you find Sakusa slowly packing your purse with his small trove of sanitary supplies.

You lean against the door frame to study him as he moves so fluidly, elegant even in the sweats and shirt he still hasn't changed out of since his morning shower. Your plans for your date flicker through your thoughts for a moment, pulling at you with an intense mix of longing and excitement.

It's not as powerful as your new desire though, as you want more than anything to continue seeing Kiyoomi's smiles today. That's what you had in mind when you planned your date, to have him find joy and contentment with you in the quiet, private corners of your world.

Sakusa looks up behind him when he hears the bathroom door shut. He didn't realize you'd stepped out and wonders if you'd forgotten something. Finished with packing your purse with both his and your supplies, he moves to the closet to prepare his clothes for the outing when the door opens again and you exit with a smile on your face. But instead of the expected outfit for your date, you're wearing your most comfortable lounge clothes.

"What's wrong, love?" He moves towards you without hesitation, concern deepening his tone.

You raise an eyebrow and ask him with a soft smile still curving your lips, "You tell me, Kiyo."

Stopping with his hand cupping your cheek as he looks down to meet your warm, inviting gaze, he breathes out a low, "How did you know?"

"Oh, baby... I've told you never to hold back your true feelings." You softly admonish.

What if you hadn't picked up on enough of the right cues? What if you enjoyed a date that only made Kiyo miserable because he sacrificed his urge to honour the plans you'd made together for the day even though what he wanted had changed?

Sakusa feels a mix of guilt and relief like a hit to the gut as he realizes he only just confirmed your suspicions. What could he have done differently so you wouldn't have realized his change of heart? So you wouldn't have to be the one making the sacrifice instead?

"Kiyo.." Your voice calls him out of his thoughts and he catches the loving smile that hasn't left your face once since you exited from the bathroom.

"Baby.. You know what I'm thinking?" Your eyes sparkle with a new excitement, no- with a mischievous, playful intent.

"What?"

"I'm thinking we have a certain season to binge watch and some new video games to try. I'm thinking of how good the takeout was from the sushi restaurant that delivered to us last month. And I'm thinking today would be a perfect day to cuddle on the couch like we have nowhere to be and time is infinite in our little bubble."

Sakusa still hesitates, even though there's no doubting your genuine tone he still can't help but ask, "Are you sure, love?" "I'm absolutely certain."

Using the hand still resting gently on your cheek, he tilts your head as he leans down to drop a soft kiss to your lips. The two of you don't pull away until you're both breathless and unable to stop your mutual smiles from spilling onto your lips. This was it. This smile of his that you so badly wanted to draw out.

That's how you both end up spending the rest of the afternoon painting exactly the picture you envisioned. You bring another round of coffees to the couch as he selects the show you mentioned and, pulling one of the plush throws over your legs, you snuggle into his side to watch.

Over the course of the next couple hours, you two easily push and pull like magnets every time you readjust your positions, from the upright one where you're tucked into him to you both stretching out for you to lie down on him, his chest pillowing your head as his arm returns to its favourite place. When hunger begins to intrude in the late afternoon, you put together plates of both his and your favourite snacks, sitting back up to consume them as the sun begins to peek in through the windows on the opposite side of your house.

When you take a break from the TV, sitting at the table with your respective beverages of choice, you play one of your favourite board games with music from your shared playlist filtering in the background. The lights in the house are slowly turned on as you both move about, from the kitchen, to the living room, to the dining table in between, over the course of your unhurried hours.

By evening, you've started a puzzle together but leave it on the table unfinished when Sakusa still hasn't returned from the kitchen, going in search of him instead. When you find him washing the dishes that have begin to neatly stack on one side of the divided sink, you have him drop everything and clean his hands before tugging him away.

"No chores, Kiyo!"

"They're dirty."

"It's a lazy day." You give him a pout that he can't refuse and he's the one to give in here.

Instead, he whips the towel on the counter and, as the song just changes into a slow one you would have usually skipped, he grabs your hand to pull you into him. You don't resist at all, reaching around him to return the hug you think he's giving, but his other hand comes to rest on your waist and it's soon joined by the first. You're the one to find yourself frozen this time, hands having risen to rest on his chest by pure coincidence even before you fully realized Sakusa Kiyoomi is slow dancing with you in the kitchen.

"Wha-" You stop the question ready to drop from your lips when you meet his eyes. The answer is as obvious as the mirth mixed with something softer in his replying gaze.

He would only ever do this for you. Step out of his comfort zones in ways that would have been completely inconceivable before he met you. Before he spent the years he has with you. Before you made him realize making these small choices for the ones you love, to be able to share these small moments that he could never have previously dreamed, aren't actually a sacrifice after all.

It's likely not a long time the two of you spend dancing between the kitchen, dining room, and living room, but at least three songs have passed before he gently tilts you back onto the couch just as the doorbell rings to indicate the arrival of your dinner.

Leaving you to clear the space on the coffee table, Kiyo arranges the food into various plates that are then loaded onto a tray to be brought into the living room. So begins round two of your TV binge, picking up mid-season to finish the latter half of the show while you enjoy feeding each other. Another feat that would be impossible for him with anyone else but a true joy to be able to share with you.

You clean up after the two of you finish, leaving him to pick the next game. When you return to the couch and see he's picked your favourite, you can't help but challenge him with a smirk.

"Oh, baby, you know I'm going to ruin you. Are you sure you want to play this?"

His dark eyes meet yours and even though his expression is almost unreadable, his eyes express the same teasing light that soaks his tone, "Sweetheart... you've already ruined me."

You don't know whether to laugh or not because as much as he intends to tease there's definitely truth there, but also a benediction that conveys what he truly means.

So you respond instead by adding your truth to his, "We've ruined each other, haven't we?"

"Only in the best ways, love."

Holding his warm gaze for another small moment, you bite your lip to hold back the wide delighted smile that threatens to spill out before he reaches for your wrist to finally tug you down to him. You end up sprawled on his lap but fix your position when he hands you the second controller.

Soon after the game starts, neither of you can say who poked whom first or nudged the other's elbow, or even who was the first to boldly tickle the other in order to gain advantage in the game. You're laughing as he pulls you onto his lap, arms coming around you to restrain your own movements as you call out to the unfairness of his tactic.

Throwing your weight back on him to push him deeper into the soft cushions of the couch, you strain to reach his neck with sloppy kisses and little love bites, your only counter to his cheating measures. Neither you nor Sakusa end up winning the game when your endeavour succeeds in pulling his attention from the screen to your sparkling eyes and that perfect smile he so desired to see.

This time, when you kiss, it's before either of you have even thought of or committed to the action, so naturally do your lips simply meet between you.

The remainder of the night is marked by these simple, lazy exchanges of your love. The TV eventually falling to rest and allowing the music still crooning in the background to create its hazy ambience yet again.

The last thing you remember as you lie entwined with Kiyo on your living room couch, exploring each other with kisses and caresses, intimate gazes and whispered words, is the final small moment of the day. A small kiss just behind your ear preceding the three little words that he faithfully declares every day since the first time they fell from his lips.

"I love you."

A/N: Sorry for kind of tricking you @yourstarvic! I know you requested either date or lazy day and I thought.. what if I wrote you and Sakusa on a date and then enjoying a lazy Sunday following? Then, I thought... what if you didn't get the date you expected but the lazy day was all the more special for it? Slightly inspired by mine and my bf's lazy days that we've never let each other regret therefore not completely original but they say write what you know lol so I hope you like it! And because you have a special place in my heart as my very first scenario request ever, I have a little surprise for you here :) <3

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