#I'm sorry i keep forgetting about you bob :(

[sailingintothenight]

"The girl in his eyes." Bob Reynolds Imagine.

(Not my gif but give a prize to the people who make them)

Summary: Time together created feelings in the two of you. One night, the group tries to get him and you to talk about it, with John urging Bob to talk about "the girl in his eyes." And that creates a big misunderstanding.

A/N: Just a kind of short imagine (around 4K words) cause I'm new here and I don't want to go on too long and bore you all in case this is boring. I'm sorry if there are any grammatical errors. But something I always knew but I accepted today is that some of us write the kind of love we'd like to receive, right? The kind we sometimes can't find, though other did find, I hope. However, in the meantime, don't forget to love yourself please. As a warning, a little angst(?) but with a happy ending! and the word "drug." I think that's all, thanks!

“Lena, did you see (Y/N)—”

The last letter of your name drops to a whisper as Bob stops in front of the long couch, Yelena’s finger pressed against her own lips to silence him, a potato chip sandwiched between her other two before she pops it into her mouth, the bag in her lap, and her full attention back on the phone in her other hand.

She’s sitting diagonally, her back between the cushion behind her and the armrest, her left knee bent down as it falls off the edge to the floor, but it’s the other one that has Bob pressing his lips together as he films this version of you with his bluest gaze, the memory searing itself into his mind. You’re there, asleep, lying sideways on the comfy, fluffy cushions, part of your head on the outside of Yelena’s thigh, a front strand of your hair now falling over your closed eyelids and the border of your nose.

And it's soft for Bob, that image of you, and overwhelming only in the way it forces him to swallow the lump forming in his throat as his feelings pile up inside.

"You need anything, Bob?" Yelena's pointed gaze moves from the paused TikTok video (a cat staring at the camera, a flashbulb fired in right in its face), chuckling as the animal's expression still lingers in her mind, and frozen on her phone—the white feline silhouette and wide–open eyes—she shows it to him. "Have you watched this video?"

Bob nods, and the sound of him trying to clear his throat (so his words don't falter mid–sentence as he knows they will) accompanies the action.

"Yeah, (Y/N) sent it to me a few days ago."

"It's so funny." She laughs softly, and her full attention is on to the device again, finger sliding across the screen after saving it to favorites, bringing another chip to her mouth. “That cat is so silly.”

But like a cry, Bob whimpers softly, the tiniest sound in the silence.

“You’re dropping crumbs in her hair, Lena.”

Yelena stops, her gaze sliding from her phone to him and then back down to you, and her slightly oily hand catches the crispy piece that had gotten caught in the strands.

“Relax, Bob. This is the price (Y/N) is paying for using me. She knows it. We shook hands. Now, do you need anything? Or someone, maybe?”

There’s a hint of healthy mockery in her smile, a silent challenge in her tone of voice that’s urging him to answer only with the truth everyone already sees, but the featherweight of her joke feels like lead in his chest and in his nervous hands, covered by a layer of clothing one size too big for Bob.

“No, just… I finished reading a book and thought (Y/N) would be here ready to—”

But there was nothing afterward, just lying there together, in the same bed before sleeping, on extreme sides so as not to cross boundaries but to keep each other company before loneliness settled in every room, when it sometimes forced Bob to wake up with a gasp and a foggy mind filled with traumatic experiences, talking about books or things.  

But perhaps it was the words left unspoken between you two before sleeping (hidden among the ones you did say: goodnight and sleep well), the ones you two avoided saying and pushed aside, along with the feelings that lived dormant in the darkness and accumulated inside each other—the things you both were dying to say but neither of you dared for fear that the already solid pillars of your friendship would crumble because of something as unstable as love.

Yelena waits a second longer, but there is no response from the other end.

“The team and I were talking about you tw—”

Bob knows what it is, the favorite topic on everyone's lips.

“You guys talk a lot, maybe you should shut up for a while. Silence is good sometimes.”

She rolls her eyes, an exasperated look following her action.

“Help me out here for a while, will you? I have a cramp and need to stretch.”

Bob swallows, eyes slightly wide at the prospect of feeling that kind of closeness with you, the kind that comes so quickly it makes him dizzy and ignites the heat in his cheeks sharply. The warmth of your hand, he felt it before, many times, a casual or intentional touch, and it was scorching (like when the supermarket was crowded and the crush of people unnerved him sometimes, for example, so your fingers would close around his and his hand would squeeze yours), as if it could ignite a forest fire inside him, so wild it seemed it could burn everything… but everything bad, of course—like the enemy in his thoughts, his insecurities, his fears, his nightmares.

He didn't even want to think about what it would feel like to feel the heat of your cheek.

But he did.

Bob had imagined it several times already. In a burst of bravery, with his heart beating faster than a drug high, his thumb would slide down your soft cheek, fingers hooking gently around the edge of your jaw.

"Bob?"

"What?"

Yelena drops her things into the armrest, her hand cupping the bottom of your head.

“Put your leg here, Bob.”

He shakes his head fast, his own heartbeat increasing with the fear and excitement that mix, so close that the line between them blurs, and his somewhat messy, wild hair moves with him.

“I don’t think—”

“Three…”

“What are you—?”

“Two…”

“Lena—”

“One.”

Bob takes a step forward, hands outstretched to stop her without a word, a silent plea in his eyes for her to do nothing, even though Yelena hadn't moved an inch and wasn't planning to either. And with a deep inhalation and exhalation, a failed attempt to fill his lungs with cold air and soothe the heat settling in his chest, Bob switches places with her, even more gentle as you shift in your sleep, your hands close to your face and your cheek now on his leg, covered by his gray sleep pants, but which seem like the finest fabric in the world when Bob feels your heat radiate through your skin until it meets his, every nerve ending.

"You're adorable, Bob." Yelena laughs quietly, but there's not a hint of cruel mockery in her words—never with him—and she leans back on the second–long sofa, phone in her hand again. "Like those boys in her books. Such a gentleman. I know why she likes you so much."

Likes you, being in love—two different scenarios if the feelings on either side were unequal. Either a chasm separated those two feelings, or the first could be the path to get to the other.

“Did I do something wrong to make her not like me anymore?”

The weight of self–doubt about a topic as distant and still foreign to him as love (next to his insecurities) try to bring down the confidence Bob was still trying to build little by little, day by day, and Yelena can see them shining clearly in his gaze as he finally holds hers, even in the dim living room light at night, searching for an answer he can't find within himself, not when there's a thick fog between the truth and him.

“What do you mean?”

Bob shrugs.

“(Y/N) is always here with me, but absent at the same time, as if something has suddenly changed between us.”

“You’re overthinking things, Bob.”

There’s affection in Yelena’s words, and they are warm in their attempt to reassure him of a truth hidden among his fears, but he lets out a small sound, something like a laugh without a hint of humor. Just an empty noise.

“Overthinking sometimes allows you to see the smallest things.”

“Like what?”

Bob can see it in his sometimes fragmented mind, every moment together and the way you changed, slowly, with him always next to you but finding solitude where there was only company, a touch of emptiness when there was always life in your eyes everytime you looked at him.

He doesn't know exactly how to explain any of that, and Yelena nods thoughtfully.

"Why don't you try to think about what exactly you did then? We have a while until the losers arrive with dinner. I'm going to be here with you, but ignoring you at the same time, okay?"

Catching his slight nod, Yelena turns on the couch, face close to the cushion and her phone in between, indistinct sounds from the videos, set to low volume, floating around him so the absolute silence doesn't completely consume him with the severity of his thoughts.

Bob lowers his head and his gaze rests on you, listening to the sound of your slow breathing as, in your sleep, your body relaxed, at peace. The curve of your lips is tempting, and he lifts the hand resting in his lap to push that strand of hair away from your face and place it where it belongs.

There, above your eyebrow and with nothing covering it now, Bob can see the only physical reminder of the fall of a whole building when your self–control overflowed at the edge of your anger. And like a tiny crack in a surface, the small scar has a slightly different hue than your skin, but it was an imperfection that only makes you even more perfect, more real, a whole person and not a cruel dream from which Bob always wakes up before reaching.

Just like that, your presence in his life became a need.

You were the proof that he was still alive after the unbearable pain, (knowing all have been worth it because he met you) and that his heart hadn't turned to tin. He was still breathing, his heart was still beating, and for the first time, he'd finally felt the nervous tingle, the fluttering of being in love.

Love, so silent you don't even know you have it until you're full of it.

Love, a silent feeling in a room full of euphoria, and at the same time, it's like an alarm that goes off and no one but him and you can hear.

To be close to you, with you, every day, that’s all Bob wanted at the beginning. But almost selfishly, the passage of time together made him greedy, wanting more from you, a different smile than you had for others, a new kind of laugh, escalating until all his thoughts were about you, daydreaming about how to shake off his title of friend and crown himself with a different one.

It was a silent plea, a hope. It became a desire that made him company through his sleepless nights…

“You need to be direct with her.” Alexei had said a few weeks ago in the kitchen, when the hands of the clock showed it was very late at night. “Your words must be deep enough to cut like a knife in the heart.”

Bob didn’t even know how he’d ended up in that secret meeting, when all he’d wanted to do was grab a late–night snack from the fridge to leave on your nightstand after you’d joked, somewhat embarrassingly, that you did that sometimes. But, confused and slightly scared, his eyebrows furrowed in surprise as the rest of the men stared at the red guardian and his constantly failing attempt to explain himself properly.

“Maybe not so direct.” Walker shook his head, the usual mocking tone in his voice. “How about you just tell her in small hints instead of trying to draw blood? You can hint that you like her, but without actually saying I like you.”

Bob blinked, confused, the information coming in too fast as he tried to take it all in.

“Like what?”

Bucky wag his head softly.

“Ask her to teach you how to do things you know she likes. She will feel that you are interested in her.”

And that was exactly what Bob did.

Now, when the doors of the elevator open and some really loud voices pierce the room, Bob’s natural protective instinct, (the one that was born in him the first time he took care of his father after witnessing his first blackout) makes his hand, a second after the resounding sound, move fast to press it against your ear, blocking out the laugh coming from the men.

As a reflex, your body moves in your sleep, but your awakening is less abrupt with his help.

You get up slowly, your mind and gaze blurred as Yelena leaves the living room, patting Bob on the shoulder on her way to the dining room. The edges of your gaze darken after rubbing your eyes with the palms of your hands, the pleasant sting creeping around as you chuckle.

“Did I sleep so much I forgot I was lying on your leg?”

Bob chuckles too, and an invisible thread pulls the corner of his lip upward.

“You slept so long that Lena’s leg went numb. Just like mine.”

You let out a surprised laugh, your body slumping back against the backrest.

“Sorry.”

“It’s okay, you know I’m always here for you.”

“Kids, dinner!”

Alexei’s voice fills the room.

At the same time, as a reflection that you both can’t avoid in time when instinct wins, Bob and you move your bodies to look over your shoulders, heads turning in the same direction, finding yourselves at what your mother used to call, at the perfect distance of a kiss. Bob is so close you can almost drink his breath, stopping yours when his blue gaze holds yours for an eternal second that finish too quickly but that feels endless too, watching each other's eyes before you both separate, looking forward as a nervous feeling fills your heart.

You walk away first, finding an empty spot next to Ava.

“Dad, will you stop calling us to the table like we’re real kids?” Yelena complains, sitting at one of the heads of the food–laden table as Bob sits in the chair across from you. “Someone here is older than life.”

The rest chuckle, not too loudly.

“But you’re my kids. Now, let’s have dinner like family.”

At some point, there is a back—and—forth conversation around, about a past relationship for some of them, somehow empty, never too deep because talking once about the future they hoped and never got to feel is enough for everybody, but always accompanied by soft laughter that makes the tower feel like a real home after some lost it or never had it in the first place.

“So… what’s your type of man, (Y/N)?” Yelena chuckles, and the sound is full of her genuine affection for you, but it hides too her desire to steer the conversation in a way that Bob can be somehow included in your words. “You’re always reading, so you must have a type. Maybe someone here is just like that.”

The others feign innocence, but the possibility stirs in Bob’s body with a heartbeat that’s too fast, eyebrows slightly furrowed in confusion, in expectation, and with a certain weight of worry about not hearing a promising answer.

“Who?” Ava laughs also knowingly, with a certain disdain at thinking of the others and you that way too, and her finger points at Alexei. “Too old.” Then at Bucky. “Way too old.” Finally, at John. “Too much of an idiot. That leaves just Bob.”

Bob swallows at the sound of his name, so abruptly that the food in his mouth makes his expression twist slightly in pain.

The others, expectant, continue waiting.

You clear your throat, your heart pounding against your chest as if it were seeking its own freedom and a way out of a situation that seems unlikely to end well.

“The usual, I guess, just… a nice guy.”

“Oh, come on, that’s not fun.” John grins, malice bubbling up as if he needs to embarrass someone at least once a day to survive. “You could be more specific, like Bob. Right now there is a girl in his eyes so he could tell us what she’s like, describe her so much until we’re bored.”

Bob's gaze meets yours, barely a second before you look away when Bucky speaks.

“I think that’s enough with the jokes, huh?”

But then, to everyone’s surprise and his own, Bob speaks, and with a touch of nervousness in his voice bordering on anxiety, he starts talking about her. Just a little, not a lot, not quite to the point of boring the rest of you.

And you listen, your heart a little cold around the edges. Like a brutal change in the season, the tempest of his words threatens to hurt you without hesitation or guilt, but you listen, because you always tried to be a good friend to Bob, a person he could trust when he didn't even trust his own shadow. And even when he was always full of doubt about himself, about the truth, he seemed to trust your voice more than the enemy within, the one that whispered only cruelty. Even when he became cloudy, Bob would pull the blanket off his head when you asked him to, because that was always a promise for him that the sadness would all end eventually.

For all those months together, it had been you, and between heartbeats, it had always been him. Until you confused things, apparently.

Until the girl in his eyes arrived.

And it hurts, it burns to think about it, that reality that creeps up on you, that of always being just a friend. And it's like having an empty stomach, an empty mind, an empty heart.

When he's finished, you excuse yourself to leave the room with a smile and your head held high, leaving the deathly silence behind and missing the way Bob follows you with his eyes, even after you disappear.

"I think we blew this." Ava lets out a small sound, like a worried laugh at possible defeat as she looks at the rest.

"Did you have to go on so long, genius?" A semi–hard object hits the side of Bob's head and bounces off it, but without erasing his terrified expression as he looks at Bucky. "We told you you had to flatter her a little, not write her a whole Shakespearean sonnet."

Yelena frowns.

“What the hell are you talking about?”

“Some weeks ago we told Bob to try to hint to (Y/N) that he likes her without telling her he likes her.”

“And?”

“And nothing else. (Y/N) came into the kitchen that night to get something from the fridge, and the conversation ended there.”

“Did she hear you talking about this ingenious plan?” Ava’s hard gaze landed on Bob, and he blinked, innocent eyes set in a look of terror. “Did (Y/N) hear you talking about her? or did she hear you being told by the smartest men in this place how to get a random girl?”

As night fell and sent the rest of the team to sleep, the endless talk finished when you had entered the kitchen, a soft sound from your throat announcing your presence first.

“What are you doing up so late, darling?”

“Just came to get something to eat.” You replied to Bucky, and Bucky’s gaze rested on you, all the way until you closed the fridge door. “Sorry to interrupt your boys’ sleepover.”

“It’s not a boys’ sleepover, (Y/N), please.” John whined softly, slightly offended.

“Men’ sleepover is better.” Alexei smiled, and you laughed with him, his innocence fluttering as the others sighed in defeat.

“Of course, my mistake. Sleep well, everybody.”

“You too.”

The others' voices were an echo, except for Bob's, lips closed as your eyes fell on him in your farewell, just for a second.

He never said your name, and neither did the others. But from then on, there was only half a life in your eyes, whereas before they had always been full of it every time you looked at him.

The seconds of understanding end when Bob stands up, so fast he pushes his chair back with a dry sound against the polished floor.

His own breathing becomes labored, but he tries to calm his anxious heart all the way down the hall.

"You always have to ruin things—"

"Not this time. Not with her." Bob murmurs softly, and when he finally reaches your room, your door is always open for anyone who wants to enter and exist, and that's a mixed relief for him. "(Y/N)?"

You look over your shoulder, your body facing away from him as you continue to sit in front of your laptop on the desk.

"Yes?"

"Can I come in?"

"Of course."

Bob closes the door behind him, barely making a noise as he ventures inside, but feeling the place like untapped territory even though he's been there since his life merged with yours. The sound of his sneakers on the floor is almost nonexistent, but it feels heavy like lead in his pockets as Bob sits next to you, listening to the almost ghostly volume of the video playing in front of you.

"You okay, Bob?"

Your attention is on the screen and your voice is a whisper, but it is an overwhelming force that hits his chest, even harder than bullets in the past.

"Are you?"

You chuckle.

"I asked you first."

Bob hums a reply.

"You wanna lie down for a while? I finished a new book today and I know I can convince you to read it."

You shake your head, but there's a slight, honest smile on your lips.

"I'm not sleepy yet. Maybe later or tomorrow."

Neither of you says anything for a moment, your eyes straight ahead like Bob's gaze lingers on your profile. Bright eyes, soft skin.

But Bob knew that you too were still learning to use your voice just like him, to find the right words—those always hidden—so scattered across different galaxies, so far from each other that you still struggled to put them together to say something eloquent, to say what you both truly wanted to say, what you two truly felt. Silence had always been your ally and an imposition for him. And that had been his curse throughout his life, always in solitude, until it created his inability to say what he really wanted to say.

But not today, not ever again.

“We’re feeling a little much apathetic today, huh?”

It’s not an accusation, but his tone tinges with his sassiness, the kind he used to make direct comments and respond to other people’s jokes, to John’s sarcasm and sometimes Bucky’s condescension. Today, however, his words make you frown sharply as you turn to look at him.

“Excuse me?” His gaze threatens to falter and leave yours when you narrow your eyes at him, but Bob stands firm when what he's said is free to the world, saying out loud what he wants to say instead of letting it perish inside and ducking his head to pretend it never happened. "You're quite bold sometimes, Bob."

“And you’re quite clueless.” He smiles, softly, nervous but firmly planted on the floor, his heart pounding in his chest. The electricity, the tingling at his fingertips as the result of this brave act is addictive, like a drug, but ultimately a healthy one, one he wants to get hooked on. “I was talking about you, silly. How can you be so smart and not realize that every word I said was about you, (Y/N)?”

Your frown relaxes more, and the gnawing feeling of annoyance at his forwardness is replaced by confusion. His hands cup the sides of your chair, and Bob pulls you closer, gently, not roughly, taking in the way your body has stopped tensing, being brave when he sees your eyes light up with affection again, completely—a little scared around the edges, but finally not halfway.

“When I asked you to teach me how to braid your hair, it was for you—for that loose braid you always have. Your mom did it for you, didn’t she? Every day. You told me.” You nod, feeling the heat from his knees radiating against yours. “When I asked you to teach me how to dance to those old ballads Bucky loves so much, I didn’t do it to dance with someone else. I did it because I saw the way he spun you around one night and saw you laugh, and I wanted so badly to be him that I could feel my body vibrate. The things I said in the kitchen, about her hair and her laugh and everything—it was all about you, okay? Can you believe me, honey? Please?”

You nod again, and Bob can see hope, right next to that desire of a soul crying out for the exact same thing as his, silent but fervent.

His hands cup your face, soft skin over slightly calloused fingers on your cheeks and the underside, thumbs gliding to make his dreams (asleep and awake) come true, a touch so tender you feel nothing but warmth at the tips—his face so close his breath mingles with yours.

Your own hands clutch at his arms, searching for something to hold you steady as well.

“I’m sorry. I… I got scared. This is my first time feeling like this.”

“I know. And I’m so sorry, I never meant to make you feel like there was someone else because ever since I met you, it’s always been you. But if you still have any doubt, you are the girl in my eyes.”

Bob leans forward, closing the small space between his existence and yours.

And behind his closed eyelids, just like yours, the darkness ceases to be terrifying and becomes pleasurable, for the first time in his life, a place where Bob would stay if that means he can keep kissing you like this. Time, life itself, the past and future are suspended, unimportant and in an eternal pause in the long seconds his lips linger and move with yours. It’s like an unspoken conversation between you two, a confession of love without even having to say those three magical words. A connection, strength and gentleness, melting away any fear or doubt. The kiss is soft like him, a little shy like you, but real and perfect after every moment you imagined him in your head.

And in a synchronized movement, the two of you separate, breathing in each other's air.

"I'll be back, okay? I won't be long." He whispers, his lips touch yours with the promise of many more shared kisses, before Bob stands.

"Where are you going?"

He stops halfway across the room and turns around, those strands of hair on either side of his face bouncing with the movement.

“I'm going to get you some midnight snacks so you won't have to get up later, and get that book I was talking about.”

You laugh softly.

“And you're going to tell the others, aren't you?”

“No.” His shoulders slump. “Yes. I have to, honey. Lena and Ava were about to hurt me really bad.”

A nervous but genuine smile appears on that sweet face of him before Bob turns away.

[mynameisvarian]

The Boxleitners AU (WordGirl)

Basically a Becky Boxleitner AU but I give Steven himself more character development and plot relevance before ultimately being fused to a mouse.

Before Squeaky (Season 1-2-3)

●•• Steven Boxleitner's fusion with Squeaky occurs much later than in the show in order to give him a much more in-depth character development to show his relationship with his daughter and his positive impacts on the people of fair city as a whole before his descent and transformation into Dr. Two Brains.

●•• With her identity as a superhero with an advanced vocabulary that's only know by her companion and sidekick, Captain Huggy Face. Becky Boxleitner is unable to talk much about her problems and difficulties with her own father because of the fear that all her hero-ing would get him hurt one day if he did find out.

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└ • Though during somewhere between Season 3 and before it's finale, Steven does manage to figure out her identity and tries to be helpful by providing help whenever she needs it.

●•• The Boxleitners live in a fairly nice neighborhood that's located near the outskirts of the city that is also coincidentally the same neighborhood that a decent amount of WordGirl's enemies inhabit, Their house is right next to the Butcher and Granny May's houses with Maria the Energy Monster secretly living in one of the powerlines across the street.

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└ • Steven has become friends with many of his definitely not villains in their civilian identities neighbors, Examples are:

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└ ✧ The Butcher (Jerald T. Butcher) - Jerald is surprisingly great friends with Steven as they'd met when Jerald had decided cook some bbq but unfortunately broke his own barbecue grill on accident though he ultimately met up with Steven when he'd heard that the man was inventing a machine that cooked meat much faster, This little interaction had then led to become the thing many of the neighbors look forward to every week, The Weekly Neighborhood Barbeque.

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└ ✧ Granny May ( Granny May) - May has always treated the Boxleitners as close family ever since the day that they'd started visiting her when during one of the neighborly bbq she'd let slip that she felt alot more lonely since her family and grandkids were off on vacation with even her own mom being busy aswell and that she wished more people visited her more often, the next day Steven brought his daughter and their pet monkey over and chatted which eventually turned into them baking cookies and listening to Granny May's childhood stories every Friday after Becky gets home from school. (Colonel Mustard, Granny May's cat has also taken a liking to them)

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└ ✧ Mr. Big (Shelly Smalls) - With Wordgirl being able to foil his plans quickly he went under a fake name (Dr. Small) to seek the help of Steven Boxleitner to make a mind control bunny button which he ultimately used on Steven after the man found out about his true identity. Although even after being mind-controlled Steven still forgives Mr. Big and still do business with eachother like the time Shelly requested for a perfume that naturally causes bunnies to follow him.

➜ This leads to an episode that centers around Mr. Big using the bunnies against Wordgirl with steven on the other hand wasn't told what the perfume was for.

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└ ✧ Energy Monster (Maria the Energy Monster) - Though their interaction was short, Maria had managed to convince Steven that teenage girls turn into large Electrical Monsters when they hit puberty after he'd given her a device that turned certain Electrical charges into sounds that then let her communicate.

➜ In an altered version of "Dinner or Consequences" Maria doesn't have the device removed and is able to communicate throughout the show permanently.

★ Becky is aware of their true identities but ultimately keeps quiet so her dad's new found friendship with them wouldn't end.

●•• Steven's assigned government owned lab and Becky's school that's just a few blocks away is located near the epicenter of the city so he normally just drops her off there when he's going to do some experimentation in the laboratory and if ever Becky gets out of school early she'll just walk to her dad's workplace to see and make sure that Steven hasn't accidentally blown himself up because of being too distracted and wait for him to finish so he can drive both of them back home. (On occasions, she'll just turn into wordgirl and fly back to their house if her dad was just at home.)

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└ • Becky had once been in the presence of a dozen miscoloured mice on one faithful afternoon when she'd decided to visit Steven, Each cage had been surprisingly lavish and contained three mice each plus everything their little mouse sized hearts desired, When asking about the indoor mouse zoo she was told that they were rescued from an illegal smuggling case in the far north of the city with the smuggler subjecting the mice to harsh living conditions to which made Becky automatically angry at herself for being unable to help these poor creatures as WordGirl.

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└ • Upon noticing his daughters clear reaction and the regret plastered all over her face, Steven placed his hand on Becky's shoulder and added that the mice were only temporarily in his care so they could be relocated to a place where all their needs will be met and that earlier today a nice elderly couple had generously donated over a pound of fruits and cheese for the poor mice which seemed to make his daughter's mood lift. He failed to mention how the perpetrator hadn't been caught yet and is probably roaming the city doing illegal smuggler things.

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└ • At one point, Steven had introduced Becky to a little lab mouse that he'd affectionately named "Squeaky" in the count that the little mouse was the most noisiest and the most likely to bite her fingers if given the chance. He'd mentioned aswell that squeaky was one of the mice that was rescued from the smuggler incident so the hostility to humans was understandable.

➜ On a side note, Her dad had shown her how squeaky could break down walls and walls of drywall to get to a singular piece of cheese, It's unsure if Squeaky was experimented on by the Smuggler or if the small mouse was always like this.

●•• Steven still makes the mind-reading device but for different reasons such as to read squeaky's mind to figure out the smuggler's identity and if more animals were being illegally brought to fair city and maybe be able to help the authorities catch the criminal but with a lot of things happening here and there the mind-reading device didn't get to the testing phase until season 3.

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The timeline is pretty messed up but basically any episode that's set in Season 1-3 that contains Dr. two brains as a main character is instead placed into Season 4 or tweaked so that it's Steven instead, The invasion of the bunny lovers is also put into Season 2 rather than 6.

This post is prone to being edited due to me always getting ideas on how to improve an AU so don't expect this to stay the same :D

(If you saw the sudden style change between images, Image 1 was drawn directly on FLIPACLIP while Image 2-3 was sketched on paper then placed into FLIPACLIP)

[lotsofluvz]

࿔‧ ֶָ֢˚˖𐦍˖˚ֶָ֢ ‧࿔ slut him out .ᐟ.ᐟ

synopsis zayne came home exhausted and frustrated. all he can think of is you blowing him off to forget all this stress.

zayne x fem!reader ☆ SMUT ☆ whiny!zayne (MDNI!)

tags blowjob, overstim, cowgirl, teasing, creampie

note it's my first time to post smut and hoping to improve in the future. i wanted to write about my man zayne aka the father of my children so i hope u enjoy reading n luv ya! <3

Zayne has one thing on his mind. He wants your mouth on his cock as you suck the stress away.

He had a long day in the hospital, and it was even more hectic today. He usually can handle this workload, but he can't seem to forget the other night. You, on top of him as you ride him to his third orgasm that night. He needs you.

He hurriedly finished his work and came home rather earlier than usual. As you heard the door open, you greeted him.

"Hey baby, how's work? Is it hectic?" you asked as you placed a kiss on his cheeks.

"It was more hectic today, but it's okay," he replied rather sullenly. You noticed the difference in his voice and asked if he was okay.

"If I'm being completely honest with you, I'm not, but the entire time, I've been thinking about you," he said while looking at you.

"What were you thinking about, baby?" you hummed as you waited for his answer.

"I've been thinking about you giving me a blowjob, having those lips of yours on my cock," he replied.

"Oh, is that why you're acting like this? It's rather rude to say that without asking me about my day," you teased him while making small touches on his neck.

"How's your day, love?" he whined and seemed to be more occupied with your touches.

"Not like that, baby, but I will forgive you today," you hummed as you guided him towards the sofa.

"I'm sorry, love. I'm just so desperate for your mouth. Please suck me off," he pleaded as you situated yourself between his legs.

"I love when you are like this, so desperate for me. C'mon baby, keep telling me what you want," you encouraged him.

"I want you to… ughh," he whined as you started kissing his thighs. "I want you to suck me… please, pull my pants," he begged as you slowly pulled down his pants, revealing his hard cock.

You shower his cock with light kisses as you tease his length slowly. Making him lose his composure as the minutes go by. "Stop teasing me... please, baby," he whined as you continued stroking him.

Without wasting another minute, your mouth met his throbbing cock. As you slowly bob your head up and down while maintaining eye contact with him. His mouth spewed out the most beautiful moan, and you want to keep hearing those moans.

"Don't stop moaning, baby. I want to hear it all, don't you dare cover your mouth," you demanded as you started to fasten your pace. "Uhhhh, miss… don't stop. Please go deeper," he begged as his moans started getting louder.

Your mouth had reached the base of his cock while your hands played with his balls. You can sense that he was reaching his climax by the way his legs are shaking. This signaled you to even hasten your pace; it rewarded you with a slur of incoherent words and fucks from his pretty mouth.

"Fuck—don't stop, miss. I'm close. I'm gonna cum—" and before you knew it, a spurt of cum rushed down your throat. His moans echoed in your shared living room.

"I'm sorry, miss. I couldn't keep it anymore," he said as he tried to calm down. You pulled your mouth off his cock and asked him to lie on the sofa. "I'm still sensitive, miss. Just give me a minute," he pleaded.

His words didn't matter as you quickly sank down his cock. earning you a loud whine from his mouth as he tries to calm himself, or else he will cum on the spot.

"Fuck—don't move too fast or else—" Before he can finish his sentence, you ride him faster as you try to reach your own climax. As the sound of your skin hitting against each other filled the room. After a few minutes, you finally felt your climax reaching.

"Shit, I'm close, baby," you moaned as you thrust into him.

"Fuck, my legs are shaking, miss. I'm gonna cum too," he whined.

After a few more thrusts, both of you reached your climax. He pressed his lips into yours as you felt his cum slowly filling up your pussy.

You slowly pull out of him and lay on his chest as the two of you try to catch your breath.

"Thank you, love. I will make it up to you, I promise. I love you," as he placed a kiss on your forehead.

"I love you too, baby," as you pulled him closer towards your body.

[moon-fics]

I'm just spitballing here, but what about bob floyd × naval admin reader where she sees him shirtless for the first time and like a friend kickback on the beach and is just absolutely gobsmacked because she knew he was fit but not ripped to heck 😭 and bob is just so nonchalant about it 😂

Please keep spitballing bc I love this. Sorry, it took so long!

After beating all the odds, the mission was a success. You only had a minor heart attack watching Rooster and Maverick get shot down. You definitely didn't need to lock yourself inside a bathroom for a few hours after everyone returned home to ground yourself. Everything that could have taken your friends did not.

Which is why you're celebrating at Penny's house. You're only a few days away from being sent to another base, and yet, you're happy. You get to stand in a beautiful backyard while hot dogs are being grilled. You're surrounded by people you love and get to keep for one more mission.

Now, if only the sun would set so you don't have to sweat through your shirt. It doesn't help that you forgot to wear a swimsuit for her pool. You're stuck watching Rooster, Hangman, and Fanboy mess around in the water.

"Hey," Bob's voice snaps you out of your mind. You glance to your left to see him holding two plates with hot dogs on them. "Penny said you haven't eaten yet." He holds out one of the plates.

You turn your head past Bob to see Penny staring right at you. She gives you a wink and returns to talking to Maverick over the grill. You should have assumed she'd do something like this. Ever since you drunkenly admitted to having a crush on Bob she's made it her mission to get you with him.

"Thank you," You sigh. You take the plate, but you don't eat from it. You're afraid that if you take a bite, the heat from the hot dog will worsen your sweating. You take a second to admire Bob, who is wearing a T-shirt that is drenched in sweat. "You're allowed to take that off." You gesture at his shirt.

He's taking a bite of the hot dog when you speak. His eyes snap to you immediately, and he awkwardly chews to talk. It takes a couple of long seconds before he swallows.

"I didn't really think about it," He admits while flashing a nervous grin. Your eyes trace the lines from his smile automatically. You're trying to ingrain every part of him before you're left to fate, for when you see him again. You don't want to forget a single detail about him. "I didn't put any sunblock on," He chuckles.

"I'm sure you'll be fine," You shrug. You can feel the sun kissing your skin and tanning it, but you don't feel burning yet. Besides, Penny should have sun lotion somewhere in her house if he really needs it. "I mean, you just came back from a mission that Maverick deemed almost impossible. I think a few sun burns will be alright."

"Yeah, I can't argue against that," He nods. "Hold my plate?" He asks, and you take it from him. You watch as he takes off his shirt and rolls it into a ball. It takes a moment for you to look down because his arms are enough to keep you occupied. When you finally change your focus to his chest you clench your jaw to stop it from falling.

You can see every muscle on his torso, and the sweat only defines them more. He's tan from the sun already, which adds to the appeal. Forget Hangman and Rooster. Bob has a body that you could not imagine holding his head up.

"You look like this regularly?" You ask without realizing it. The question slides down from your brain and past your lips before you can stop it. The only thing stopping you from diving into Penny's pool is his laugh.

"Yeah, I mean, everyone else looks the same," He brushes it off.

"Well, yeah, but I just wasn't expecting you to be this fit." You cannot stop talking. It's like your brain is just letting anything out. "That came out wrong. I knew you were strong, I just never imagined you shirtless," You clarify.

"That insinuates you've imagined everyone else shirtless," He points out. He ducks his head down as another laugh comes out. You're thankful he's finding this humorous instead of insulting or creepy. You could handle looking like a fool. "I just don't see a need to show off," He says and takes his plate back from you.

"You're depriving the world," You joke. "I'm serious. If I looked like you, I'd be shirtless regularly."

"I'm glad you think that. Next time I'm shirtless, I'll let you know," He shakes his head while holding back a chuckle.

"Put me on speed dial," You nudge him.

[gay-dorito-dust]

Can I request something with the Void and Bob (reader is dating both) where it’s little moments where they make reader feel safe?

i started with the idea of doing small hdc type things, only to keep writing and writing to the point where you'll only get one massive moment where Bob/Void made reader/you felt safe.

You couldn't sleep and no matter how hard you tried your mind would always be too loud to ignore, too present and awake at the early hours of the morning to be silenced, yet you didn't like being alone with your mind which is why you were stood at Bob's door in selfish hopes that he too might be awake.

You felt bad wishing that your sweet Bob was also suffering from a sleepless night out of sheer greediness for no wanting to suffer alone, much rather doing it with the one person whom you've only ever felt your truests in the presence of, the one who you could only ever feel safest without having to try. A beautiful soul of a man so open minded and nonjudemental that admitting to the wildest and darkest thing you've ever done did nothing to waver his love for you, for he still looked at you like you had hung the stars yourself against the nightsky you handpainted.

Thankfully you didn't have to do much other then breathed it seemed for the door in front of you to open, revealing a dishelved looking Bob, rubbing his eyes with the sleeve of his sweater as he fights back a yawn. Even when he's half asleep and probably wanting nothing more then to go to bed and at least catch some sleep, Bob still made the active decision to open up his door further the second he caught the look upon your face, knowing the look within your eyes better then you did as he was pretty certain that was how he looked when he came to you in help for better sleep.

'i'm sorry.' you started but Bob was quick shut down any and all guilt you might feel just becuase you were in need of company, even if it was in the early hours of the morning, for you had stopped him multiple times for apologising over for the smallest things and now he would do the same for you in your time of need. 'Don't. You don't ever have to appologise for coming to me, it's why i left my door slightly ajar every night in case you ever needed me, i'm always there.' He tells you and you couldn't have felt sillier in forgetting such a simple thing that Bob always did, leaving his door ajar just for you when the nights got too long for you.

Bob could tell that you were condeming yourself for forgetting and instead only presses a gentle hand to your lower wasit while guiding you to his bed, waiting paitiently as you made yourself comfortable under the covers before joining you, bringing you into his arms until you were cuddled so tightly against him to the point where you couldn't tell where Bob started and you finshed. His warmth immeditely made your mind realise that you were in the presence of safety, a calm and warmth that so rarely few people had but Bob had in abundence, making your body relax as your fingers fiddle with the collar of his sweater and lightly grazing his collar bone while doing so.

'Want to talk to me about what's keep you up.' Bob asks softly, rubbing your back soothingly as he allowed you to take your time in gathering your thoughts, allowing you the paitience that wouldn't have been given you elsewhere.

'Mind was too loud, had to get to you.' You tell him as though it was simple, as if there was no possible solution for you to seek comfort and reprieve in or from.

'i'm here. you got to me.' Bob reassured you, kissing your forehead softly, feeling you melt into his act of affection, finding comfort in it and feeling a sense of saftey that you seemingly only find with Bob and only Bob. 'You got to me.' He echoed once more as though to really bring the point home that you were where you needed the most, where you could bring yourself back to reality with Bob and not have to worry about anything of substance when you were within Bob's arms, feeling that he was very much real and right in front of you instead of a dream like you often times thought he was.

'i got you, and with you i'm where i'm at safest.' You said, kissing the side of his neck, close to where you could easily access with ease. 'The safest i've ever been in my entire life even.' You add and you weren't lying -not in the slightest- as you couldn't remeber feeling as invincible and untouchable as you did now within Bob's arms or his room in general. It felt like home to you, from the book shelves lined with well loved and warn books that were treated with respect, the bean chairs, weighted blankets and plushies and even the pictures that could be seen in photo frames scattered here and there; There was even clothes that you've left on more then one occasion to the point Bob had made a section for your stuff in his wardrobe for moments like these.

The room felt lived and loved in and the man you were cuddled up tightly with only made you feel seen and understood, and for that Bob made you feel so safe that soon enough your mind was silent enough for you to fall back to sleep, burrowing yourself deeper into Bob as he tightened his hold on you in response as he too fell into a welcomingly deep sleep.

void -

The mission had gone wrong, really wrong, when or how you weren't quite sure as everything had happened so fast, too fast even for you to recall any vital details that could've given you clues as to how things had become sour so quickly. Yet you found yourself cornered and at aloss of what to do, mind going a million miles an hour as you realised you were slowly becoming a cornered animal, a hurt cornered animal as you could see from the corner of your eyes the small group of crooks were closing in on you rather quickly; leaving you with a time gap that only seemed to have grown increasingly smaller an threatens to shut on you the longer you heistate.

You had no clue where John, Ava, Yelena nor Alexei were, having all been split up the second you had touched down, thinking this mission to be a simple in and out job. However now things have grown more and more complicated and this deadend you had ran into felt more like a sign to you that things were only going to go from bad to worse, the wound on your side was on fire and your ankle was proven an issue when trying to come up with an escape plan, the metophorical wrench that was thrown in to be an additional obsticle of your already growing pile of them that only seemed to tower over you.

Attempts of trying to calm yourslef were all for naught, your mind had already accepted that there wasn't much hope for you in getting out, no hope in making it far enough to make a differance or a chance encouter with another of your teammates. You were willing to put up a fight knowing that it might be your last, knowing that you might not see the end of this mission, forced to be okay with dying here without a single complaint and letting go of the last ounce of adrenaline exited your exhausted and pained body.

You tightened your grip on your weapon, eyes trained forward at the enemy infront of you with the intention of taking at least a good couple of them down with you, at least show signs that you did at least try instead of laying down and dying so eaily. Only the fact that you didn't need to as the lightbulb within the distant hallway flickered before being snuffed out by an inky black darkness, the darkness that seemed to want nothing more then to rid the hallway of it's light as you were soon to realise that the goons that were so close had now seem to be nowhere in sight, only silence and a creeping cold that would warrent you to be weary but not so when this cold and silence were common factors for when you knew Void was nearby.

He had somehow knew you were here, he must've for who else whould he have came for? Certainly not John, or Ava or Yelena and not once would he give Alexei much thought to save and risk appearing like he has as of this moment. The logistics as to how didn't seem all that important as you could see one of the goons looking frightened came into view, gun held tight to their chest and unloading their clip into this unseen entity, which from what you could tell from their face did nothing to cause injury as frustraightion grew within them; yet within a blink of an eye the goon was nothing more then a inky black stain on the floor.

A shadow that looked as though it had been smeared across the floor, like someone's charcoal artwork had gone array.

'Void.' You made eye contact with the two pinprick eyes that peered back at you, twinkling like two lonely stars adrift in the night. He had appeared before you within a blink of an eye, silent and observing of your current perdicament, but you could easily feel the undertones of rage and revenge bubbiling beneath the cold compsure he exuded. 'you came.' you said elated, smiling at the shadowy entity as though there was no one else you'd be looking at with such reverence and relief.

'You called. i always come when you call.' He replied but continued to talk when your confusion was obvious, 'You don't need to say my name for me to know it's you calling. i can just feel you reaching out to me subconciously, so filled with fright that you try to conceal with momentairly bravery, and here i am to deal with the vermin that threatned my walking daydream's life.' He concludes as he offers you his hand of which you were quick to grab onto, allowing him to take you into his arms as you were quick to burry your head into his neck, wanting to take off your mind from almsot dying to how you felt within Void's arms as you shut your eyes tightly as Void's presense brought you safety.

'i was so scared.' You admitted to him, feeling one of his hands cup the back of your neck, massaging it almost like he was trying to have you focus on something else.

'i know.' He replied.

'i thought i was going to die.' you kept going, mouth on autopilot.

'i would never allow you to be brought before such a fate.' Void said it like it was a promise he meant with full intention to keep.

'Then you came.' You tightned your hold on Void, memorising how he fit perfectly agaisnt you as though he was made with the intention of being yours. 'then you came.' You whispered to yourself this time, almost as if trying to convince yourself that this was real, that he was really here with you, but from the way he kept a firm hold on your waist and his breathing were more then enough to convince you he was real. 'you're real.' you concluded.

Void only presses a kiss to the top of your head, letting you seek closure and saftey with the shadow that made him up, find reassurance in the darkness that lingered in each corner of the room and finding solace knowing he was there within arms distance. For you Void would never be too far out of reach, your second shadow he'd become if it meant keeping you safe and far from harms way, content in your silent acknowledgement of this fact yourself but never verbally saying it; You knew as well as he that you'll always find safety in the dark, in the whispers heard amongst the wind that spoke of his forthcoming.

You had a shadowy entity of unspeakable power who was more then willing to keep you within those very shadows to protect you, not that you'd fight against it as with Void his saftey wasn't a threat but more of an heavy insitance, a firm reminder that he'll snuff out all of the light in order to be yours.

[wandering-pirate]

Mouthwashing Crew Headcanon

The Crew has a Crush~

You, it's 🫵🏻

Captain Curly

You walk into the control room, and Curly’s full-on beefing with the ship’s voice assistant

Turns out, he programmed it to be more “human” for fun... welp, the AI's definitely having fun roasting the captain

“I’m the captain! You’re supposed to obey me!”

“Obey? Sir, you can’t even obey a map.”

You're struggling to keep it all together because Curly’s already TOMATO RED from embarrassment (and maybe from the fact that you’re watching)

He tries to play it cool, though

“This is just a glitch. Totally fixable.”

“Yes sir, I'm fixable. What’s not is your love life, tho.”

The crew knows he’s into you, and now even a literal system algorithm's joining in on the teasing

The man's not even surprise when the voice assistance turned a 180° on you and treated you like a queen... he ain't complaining tho

Nurse Anya

You came to the med bay for a papercut

You’re expecting, like, a band-aid or maybe some ointment, but what you got was a full medical intervention

“This could get infected. Let’s disinfect, bandage, and monitor it. For safety.”

“…It’s just a papercut.”

She keeps pulling out stuff from the cabinet:

Medical tape, okay so far

Gauze... a bit...much

Wait, is that... surgical gloves?

You’d think you crawled in with a gunshot wound

When she actually started treating your cut, she goes on a call mute, like she’s concentrating way too hard and you can't reach her

You catch her sneaking glances at you...cute

But what makes it more diabetically adorable is with both your slight accidental touches

She’s immediately short-circuiting, mumbling “sorry, does it hurt? wait, why would it hurt?? oh my gos--”

Girl is fighting for her life over brushing your sleeve while she's fully holding your hand with both hands

Meanwhile, Swansea’s strolling past the med bay, just shaking his head like, “Anya, just tell ‘em you like ‘em already."

Co-pilot Jimmy

You’re helping Jimmy with a minor maintenance task (he totally didn’t ask for your help; you just “showed up,” okay?)

He’s being his usual smug self, but you know he’s flustered because he keeps snapping at you for no reason

“Don’t touch that, you’ll mess it up."

“I literally haven’t even touched anything yet.”

“Well, don’t think about touching it either!”

He’s trying to show off and “teach” you, but keeps fumbling because you’re watching him too closely

The crew’s already onto him. Curly literally walked past once and muttered, “Subtle, Jimmy. Real subtle.”

“SHUT UP, CURLY.”

“…Do you want me to leave?”

“No! I mean--just stay over there. Quietly.”

He’s the human equivalent of a malfunctioning toaster, and it’s both annoying and adorable

Mechanic Swansea (Gruff Dad Energy™)

You pranked Swansea by hiding his tools, thinking he’ll just scowl and grumble like usual...huge, BIG mistake

This man plays chess while you’re playing checkers

The next day, everything you own is missing: Shoes? Gone

Favorite mug? Gone

Your bunk? Covered in engine parts

Swansea doesn’t even deny it, just smirks and chuckles, “Don’t start wars you can’t win, kid.”

But here’s the thing: later, you find your stuff neatly returned with a plate of snacks he definitely didn’t make (he asked Curly "what young'ins like these days" and got a canned latte from the vending machine)

He never forgets to remind you that he doesn't care... sure, Swans, the dad energy definitely NOT palpable

Daisuke (Your #1 Fanboy)

Daisuke decides to “help” you cook one day

By “help,” I mean he’s hyping you up like you’re Gordon Ramsey while also lowkey getting in your way

“Y/N, you’re amazing. Look at how you chop those veggies, Bob Ross for foodies. You should open a restauran- no, actually, you should open a chain.”

“...Dai, the stove's literally barbecuing your shirt."

He panics, trips over his own feet and in one catastrophic motion, takes down a pot of soup, a chair, and somehow a shelf that wasn’t even near him

The room is wrecked. But before anyone can process, he just shoots up from the floor, finger guns and grins “DON’T WORRY. THE SOUP'S FINE.”

At this point, you don’t even question when this whole fanclub started. Probably cause you're the only one slipping him some sweets every once in a while (you're aware of the man's sugar addiction)

Having a personal hype man is great, even if he’s one accident away from taking down the whole ship

The whole crew's in pure chaos. What have you done to them??

Jimmy’s crush is LOUD, flustered, dramatic and side-eyeing Curly and Anya when they're standing within a foot of your proximity

Curly’s out here showing his 'captain privileges', but one compliment and he’s short-circuiting, probably off to “check the crew” (aka scream into the void)

Anya? Combusting at the slightest thank-you for the snacks and meds and also avoiding eye contact like it’s a sport

And Daisuke? Man’s your 24/7 cheerleader, yelling “YOU’RE AMAZING!” at 6 AM while trailing you like a puppy. The rest of the crew’s this close to losing it ’cause he’s stealing their thunder

Everything's unfolding while both you and Swansea watch side by side

The man sighed and muttered something under his breath. He’s got the tiniest smirk, though

“Yeah, these idiots are on you now.”

[drabbles-mc]

I'm Not Sorry

Bob Floyd x F!Reader

Warnings: 18+, language, dry humping, semi-public hookup

Inspired by This Text Post: i should be riding some nerd's thigh while he gropes all over my body & tells me i'm the girl of his dreams

Word Count: 3.7k

A/N: i've been struggling to finish fics lately but i saw that text post a couple days ago, knew i wanted to write about it for Bob, and then BAM this all fell outta me tonight. unbeta'd to the max but Bob Floyd deserves to fuck so time was of the essence 😌

Top Gun Maverick Taglist: @garbinge @proceduralpassion @justreblogginfics (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

If you wanted to be dramatic, you could say that you and Bob had been playing a very coy game of cat and mouse for months. It was a bit of an exaggeration, but not by much. A majority of the time that you spent with each other was work-related. It was usually work related, and there was almost always other people around. The closest the two of you got to having time alone was when all of you went out together and everyone else got distracted with pool or darts or each other. So while it might’ve been months according to the calendar, it wasn’t really quite that drastic.

Still, though, you tried to make the most out of the time that the two of you got to have.

It was easy, especially at first, to get a rise out of him, to get his cheeks to flush pink, to get him tripping over his words. A seemingly accidental touch, a well-timed innuendo or wink—that’s all it really took. You didn’t say anything about it but you noticed each time his gaze would break, eyes flickering down from yours to your mouth anytime your teeth dragged along your bottom lip. It never took much with him and for a while you just chalked it up to the fact that he was sweet and shy and a little awkward, that anyone flirting with him like that would get that reaction out of him. It wasn’t until you saw him perfectly unfazed at The Hard Deck one night when a girl at the bar was all but falling into his lap that you realized it wasn’t a Bob thing. It was a you thing. Once you realized that, it was all bets off.

There had been more than one occasion when thanks to your subtly wandering hands Bob nearly spat his drink out across the bar or dropped the bottle from his hand completely. You were able to keep a straight face and play it off, and every now and then Bob was able to recover with some grace, but there had been a time or two when he’d caught a few odd looks from the rest of the crew. It was easy enough to wave them off and they’d let it drop, but the second his focus was back on you, you could tell that he was working overtime to stay on the right side of self-control. All you could do was smile and try to carry on like nothing had happened.

Truthfully, it had gotten to a point where you had almost just resigned yourself to this being what it was going to be like with you and Bob. You were trying to accept that this limbo, this knowing that you wanted him and he wanted you but neither of you really found the time to do much of anything about it, was as good as it was going to get. A never-ending chase, a game with no winners.

“Alright,” you said as you hopped off your barstool, “I gotta head out.”

“Why?” Rooster asked, sounding as though he couldn’t fathom why anyone would want or need to be anywhere else on a Friday night.

You laughed as you dug your wallet out, taking out a few bills to close out your tab and then some. “Some of us have shit to do in the morning, Bradshaw.”

He laughed and gave you a mock disbelieving look. “I don’t think so.”

Raising your eyebrows, you turned your head to face him. “You wanna close out my tab, then? Sounds like you might wanna close out my tab.”

He threw his hands up in surrender. “Forget it—see you Monday.”

You laughed a little harder at that. “That’s what I thought.”

It didn’t seem like your departure disturbed the flow too much, everyone falling back into their previous conversations as you made your way to the bar to square up your tab. You didn’t even bother looking back as you made your way to the door of the bar. By the time your feet hit the blacktop of the parking lot, you were already fishing your keys out of your bag.

Once you were a few strides away from the bar and the clamor of noise coming from inside died down, all you heard was the sound of your own footsteps, and the ocean not too far off. It was peaceful until you heard someone else’s footsteps behind you. The sound alone wouldn’t usually have been strange. Someone else deciding to leave the bar at the same time as you wasn’t a weird occurrence. What made the hairs on the back of your neck stand up, however, was the fact that the footsteps were getting quicker and closer. You felt your jaw clenching, positioning your keys between your fingers the way you’d always been taught. You were only a few steps away from your car now but you still found yourself taking a deep breath, getting ready to turn around and see whoever it was that was behind you. You were about to turn and brace for impact when you heard Bob’s voice calling out your name, a little breathless, and very rushed.

Turning around and seeing him, some of the tension disappeared. You huffed, shoulders dropping. “Jesus, Bob.”

There was an apologetic smile on his face as he realized what had just happened. “Sorry.”

Shaking your head, you slipped your keys so that you were holding them in your hand normally again. You managed to laugh at the potential worst case scenario versus the reality of the situation. “Another step without saying my name and I think we both would’ve been sorry.”

He stepped in a little closer to you as he nodded towards your car. “Just wanted to walk you to your car.”

You rolled your eyes but smiled as you turned and started the last few steps across the lot with him. “You know, walking me out to my car is much more chivalrous and much less creepy when you tell me you’re going to do it.”

There was a smirk on his face as he shoved his hands into his pockets. “Guess I’ll have to remember that next time.”

Silence took over the space between you, and while it was comfortable enough, you couldn’t help but to feel like there was more to it, something in the air. Hitting the unlock button on your keys, the lights of your car flashed once. You looked at Bob, then at your car, and then back to Bob. “Well,” you chuckled, “thank you for the company on this long, treacherous journey.” You reached for the handle on the driver’s door. “Hope we can do it aga—”

Bob cut your sentence short when he placed one hand on top of yours on the door handle, keeping you from opening it. Before you could jump to another sentence and ask him what he was doing, his other hand was pressing against the small of your back and pulling you into him so that he could press his lips to yours in a kiss that was intense and nervous all at once.

It lasted just long enough for you to realize what was happening and how good it felt and then he pulled away. Going off the way his eyes were wider than you’d ever seen them, he was just as surprised at himself as you were. Despite the shock all over his face, he didn’t take his hand off your back, although the one that was covering yours on the door dropped back to his side.

“Sor—I’m sorry,” he finally forced out. “I’m…” he trailed off as he looked at you, tongue darting out over his bottom lip.

Another second passed in heavy silence, and when you didn’t try to break free of him, didn’t try to push him away, he let the rest of his sentence die on the tip of his tongue as he kissed you again. You could feel the way that he was more confident this time, the warmth of his palm bleeding through the thin fabric of your tank top as he pressed you against him.

You brought your hands up so that they were resting in the crook of where his neck met his shoulder. One slid up, thumb beneath his jaw as he deepened the kiss. It was all you could do to not ball up the cotton of his t-shirt in your fist, put it in a vice grip so that he couldn’t try to get away. However once you felt the way his tongue pushed into your mouth, and the way he used his body to pin you between him and the side of the car, it became clear that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere.

He had one hand still on your back, one hand braced against the side of your car. It was the first time it ever seemed like he was crowding you, like he was trying to make you seem small. You didn’t mind it. With the way he was kissing you, you were fairly certain you wouldn’t mind anything.

The next time the two of you came up for air, he didn’t pull far enough away for you to really see him. You were just far enough apart for your lips not to be touching, but you could still feel the side of his nose pressed against yours. You could still feel his breath against your skin. The two of you were pressed so tight against each other that you could’ve sworn you could feel the way his heart was about to beat clean out of his chest.

“Shit,” the word fell from his lips in a whisper, followed by an equally soft laugh. His lips brushed against yours as he spoke. “I’m…I’m not sorry.”

You laughed at that, couldn’t help yourself do to anything but. “Good.” Your hand slid from his jaw to the back of his head. “You shouldn’t be.” Kissing him again, you let your teeth pull lightly at his bottom lip as you pulled away. “Only thing you need to be sorry for is taking so long.”

He smiled and shook his head. If the lighting had been better you were sure that you would see a blush all across his cheeks and down his neck. You’d have to settle for the mental image of it. “Didn’t see you chasing me down across any parking lots for a kiss before this either,” he rebutted with a chuckle.

“Touché.”

The humor died down out of his voice as he said, “You know how long I’ve been wanting to do that?”

You nodded, noses brushing against each other. The bridge of his glasses bumped against your forehead for a split second in the process. “I’ve got a pretty good idea, yeah.”

Your bodies were pressed together so tightly that you felt it when he sucked in a quick breath. There were a million things that he wanted to say to you and he couldn’t make himself say any of them in that moment. He had his hand on your back and the taste of your kiss on his lips and yet none of the things he’d been thinking over the passing months were making it out.

The feeling of your fingers toying with the longer strands of his hair centered him enough for him to smile as he said, “At least you know that. I—oh—” He fumbled his way out of the sentence when he felt your lips on his neck.

“Bob?” you said, lips brushing against the column of his throat as you spoke.

“Y-yeah?” he stammered out, and you could feel the vibrations against your lips as he talked.

Taking one hand off of him, you reached and pulled on the handle to the back door of your car. You kissed him again, pushing both of you off the side of the car in the process. “Get in the car.”

He was far enough away that you could see the shocked look on his face. “What?”

You placed your hands on his sides, switching your positions so that he was closer to the car than you. “Car.” You kissed him. “Back seat.” Another kiss. “Now.”

“Now?” He looked around the parking lot. Full of cars but completely devoid of people. “Here?”

You laughed as you pushed him farther back, causing him to duck slightly as he went backwards into the car. “Preferably, yeah.”

“I don’t—whoa,” he fell back across your back seat, managing to brace himself on his forearms.

You shimmied in after him. Pulling the door shut behind you, you climbed on top of him, one leg between his, the other pinned between the outside of his leg and the back seat. It was close quarters, but you weren’t exactly looking to put any distance between the two of you.

Your hands landed on his shoulders, fingers curling over the curve of them as you leaned in and kissed him on the lips. Whatever reservations he’d had about your current location disappeared almost immediately once your lips caught his. His hands were on your hips for a moment. You could feel the way he tightened his grip even through the denim of your shorts. Your lips and his met over and over, each reconnection making him a little bolder.

He managed to get his thoughts together just enough to pry one hand from your hip so that he could reach up and take his glasses off. He all but tossed them up and onto the center console between the driver and passenger seats. You were smiling and about to make a comment about the action but you didn’t get the chance. He brought his hand back to you, starting off on the soft, exposed skin of your thigh. His touch was soft at first, but quickly started to change. His fingers dragged up your leg before slipping past the bottom hem of your shorts.

Your pleased gasp of surprise when you felt the pads of his fingertips over the lace of your panties was quickly smothered as he pulled your lips back to his again. His grip on your ass tightened, pushing you down harder onto his thigh and causing you to moan into his mouth.

For a split second you couldn’t believe it. All this time and Bob hadn’t been able to make a move, couldn’t believe that you wanted to fool around in the back seat of your car—that same man was now grinding you down against his thigh in a way that had you wet and clenching around nothing.

You broke the kiss to catch your breath, muttering out a quiet, needy, “Fuck,” as you continued to move along the top of his leg.

When you pulled back enough to see him, you saw the way that he was watching the movement of your hips. He didn’t take his eyes off of you, felt like he physically couldn’t tear himself away from the sight. His hold on you loosened as you found your own rhythm. A tiny whimper slipped past your lips, the sound involuntary as you savored the friction. The sound made his gaze snap back up to your face, and when he saw the want and desperation etched into your expression he thought that he was going to melt into a puddle right there on your back seat. What a way to go.

He pulled you back down into another kiss, your bodies flush practically from head to toe. Even as you continued to move against his thigh, you could feel the way he was shifting slightly, trying to get in the most comfortable position as he felt himself growing more and more aroused with each passing second. He didn’t let you pull away, though, didn’t let you put any distance between you. With you pinning his leg to the seat, Bob let his hands wander up underneath he fabric of your shirt. Suddenly it was like you felt his hands everywhere—your back, your sides, your chest. He slipped them down past the waistband of your shorts and underwear, fingers kneading the flesh of your ass in a way that with everything else had your legs starting to shake.

Bob could feel it, too. He could feel the increased sense of urgency in your movements, the way you were chasing after something and you almost had it. He was half-expecting to be woken up and find out that this was all just a dream. But not even his dreams had been this good, felt this good.

He dragged his lips off of yours, trailing them along your jaw instead. He left a string of sloppy, desperate kisses in his wake until his lips were beside your ear. One of his hands crept up your back, palm and fingertips scorching your skin in the best way.

“I meant it, you know,” his whisper came out lower than you’d ever heard, a tiny hint of a tremor to it, “when I said I’ve been wanting this—you.” He kissed below your ear, feeling the shaky breath you let out at that, at his words. “But even when I thought about it,” he kissed your jaw, “or dreamed about you,” he kissed your neck, “it wasn’t—shit—it wasn’t anything compared to this.”

Fighting the urge to bury yourself into the crook of his neck at his words, you pulled your head back. You cupped his jaw roughly in one hand and crashed your lips against his. His arms slithered around you and wrapped you tightly against him. He could still feel the slight shake in your legs.

“Bob—”

He stole another quick kiss. “I’d wait all over again for this.”

You could hear it in his voice how genuine he was being. You tried not to let yourself get distracted by his still-wandering hands, or his erection that you could still feel through his jeans. You tried to start your sentence again. “Bob, I—”

“Let me—”

“Come home with me,” you cut him off right back this time, deciding to just get to the point of what you were trying to say.

Confusion flashed across his face for a quick moment. “What?”

“Come back to my place.”

“I thought—”

“I wanna do this.” You sat up enough so that you could drag your fingertips down over his chest and stomach, even doing it over the fabric of his shirt had him starting to squirm with want. “But I’d rather do it somewhere where I don’t have to worry about smacking my head off the ceiling if I sit up all the way.”

The statement got both of you to laugh. “That’s fair.” He paused, a smirk on his face as he said, “Car was your idea, though.”

You rolled your eyes. “I’m feeling a little impatient. Sue me.”

He pulled you into another kiss, one that every time you thought it was over he’d pull you back in all over again. As much as you wanted to get him back to your apartment and laid out on your bed, you also knew that you’d spend as much time as he wanted to doing exactly what you were doing right now. Anything to keep him this close now that you had him there.

When he released you from the kiss, he looked up at you with that same smile, that same slightly dazed look to in his eyes. Like he couldn’t believe this was happening. You couldn’t really believe it either. You couldn’t believe that any of it was happening at all, but you were also having a hard time wrapping your head around the fact that Bob Floyd, the same man who could barely make eye contact with you at the bar the first time you all went out together, was the same man who looked like he was about to try and strategize how to best make use of your back seat so he wouldn’t have to wait to get back to your apartment.

“I live less than ten minutes from here,” you said, already knowing what he was going to say.

His hands moved around to the front of you, fingers just barely curled over into the front of your waistband. You pretended not to notice the way he was toying with the button of your shorts. “Thought you had things to do tomorrow?”

You laughed, leaning in and kissing him. “I still do. Now they’re just,” you ran your hand lightly over the crotch of his jeans, enough pressure to get him to buck into you, “different things.” You giggled quietly at the purposeful breath he sucked in. Reaching over, you grabbed his glasses for him. “C’mon. You can ride shotgun.”

He propped himself up by his forearms again as you untangled yourself from him. “What if—”

You couldn’t help but to laugh as you stopped his sentence short. “Little late to get shy now.”

He smiled, face starting to turn red. “Right.”

The only thing that passed between the two of you were knowing looks and soft laughter as you scrambled out and into the front seats of the car. It wasn’t until you were pulling out of the parking lot and onto the road that you spoke up again, trying not to be too distracted by Bob’s hand creeping higher and higher up on your thigh.

“So,” you looked over at him for a second before returning your attention to the road, “you dreamt about me?”

His head dropped back against the headrest and you couldn’t help but to laugh at his faux exasperation. He gave your thigh a squeeze. You were expecting a joke, one of the witty little comebacks that he had a way of finding in the right moments, but instead he let himself be serious as he said, “Yeah, I did.”

The three words hung in the air between you, and you felt the butterflies that you’d been too busy to feel before in the heat and the rush of everything else. You could feel the way that Bob was looking at you while you looked at the road.

“How much longer?” he asked.

You laughed, sparing him a glance. “Six minutes, tops.”

He nodded, fingertips grazing up and down your thigh, goosebumps breaking out over your skin despite how warm your car was with its still-fogged-up windows. “Six minutes.”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Stark Contrast 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, lies, age gap, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: your online friend isn't who he claims to be.

Characters: Tony Stark

Sister series to Captain's Orders

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.

I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖

It's been a long day. Every day seems longer than the last. All that overtime is adding up. It's needling right at the base of your neck.

Unclench your jaw. You keep forgetting. The pressure makes your head hurt. You rub your eye socket and yawn as you drag your feet down the dark pavement.

You approach your building and look at the heel of your hand, mascara smeared on your skin, no doubt across your face too. Oh well, you're home. Not necessarily the perfect haven but a place to be alone.

You bob in the elevator to the music in your headphones. You step off and keep your head down in a lazy shuffle down the hallway. You unlock your door and spin inside, letting the song play out as you hang your jacket and purse. You kick of your sneakers and drift into the kitchen, mindlessly searching for something quick to eat.

You detach your headphones from your phone and take them off. You let the music drone as you mull over the effort to cook a box of processed mac and cheese. You pause the music and scroll through your feed. Nothing interesting. You let a live feed play. You never pay much attention to the new but it's good white noise. 

You pull down your notification bar. Oh shoot. You forgot to answer the last message.

You'd been chatting with Eddie during your lunch but had to get back to the grind. Those bougie middle-aged women won't find those overpriced candles themselves. Then they'll complain that the Martha Stewart limited edition is sold out. Oh, to have such simple problems.

You blink as the video plays in a little box floating over the chat. 

'Sorry. Got caught up at work. Just seeing this now. Hope you have a good night.' You send the message and pull the video into fullscreen.

He doesn't always answer at night. Or sometimes for days. He's pretty busy. An engineer or something. You met on some discord when Elden Ring dropped.

You narrow your eyes at the stream. You swear every time you see a screen, Tony Stark is on it. There he is now, giving a presser to a fawning crowd of reporters.

He claps his hand to his chest pocket and gives a subtle look down as he slides out his phone. He drops it back in and shrugs at his adoring audience, "I'm a busy guy, what can I say?"

They laugh, unbothered by his distraction. You turn back to your search for an easy meal. Oh, you still have that frozen pizza. This late, it'll make your chest burn in the morning but you don't care.

You preheat the oven and go to your phone, agitated by the murmur of the reporters and their softball questions. You don't have a problem with the man or his mighty band of Avengers, hey, they do their best. It's this whole celebrity shell around them. The sort that has half the population is a dysfunctional parasocial relationship.

You switch to a reality show that pits home bakers against each other. It's a bad choice. It stokes your already twisting hunger and sparks your sweet tooth. You never shy away from a treat. Good thing you don't have any.

The stove beeps as the subtle smell of smoke rises. You figure it's not that bad if the alarm isn't going. You put the pizza in and swipe up your phone. You pace around and check your news feed. There's a new Amiibo out. Nope, you will not get suckered into another money grab. You're save. Not for anything special, just rent. Another price hike. The next one might put you out.

You pizza finishes and your phone buzzes. You cut it into uneven slices and take a few on a paper towel. You flop onto the couch and read Eddie's response.

'I get it. Probably out on a date with a hot guy. Or lady. No judgment.'

You shake your head. He's such and idiot sometimes. 'Nah. You're awake?'

'You know I don't sleep.'

You wouldn't guess it by his erratic responses. If anything, you'd only assume he doesn't keep a routine. His bouts of activity are unpredictable.

'Let's not talk about work.' He replies before you can. The next message is a mood. 'I'm over it.'

'Sure. What do we talk about? You gonna help me co-op Starscourge Radahn? You never log on anymore.'

Your phone quakes as an audio call comes in. You nearly drop it as you opt to save the slice of pizza in your other hand first. You finally hit answer with your greasy thumb.

"Fair warning, I'm eating. I'm flipping starving," you say.

"You sound ravenous," Eddie says. "So, what's for... a very late dinner?"

"Pizza. Spinach and mozzarella."

"Order in?"

"Frozen," you mutter.

"Gross," he remarks. He's a bit of a snob. "You coulda hit me up. I'd send you some money for real food. I'm sure you've got a few shwarma places around that hellhole."

"Har har. If I'm so poor, why do you talk to me?"

"Good question. Can I think about it?" He snickers as you roll your eyes. "Look, sweetheart, I'm sorry about the video game--"

"You know, you sound like my dad."

"I do?" He nearly yelps.

"Sweetheart this. Video games. You talk like you were born in the 60s."

"I heard the 60s were pretty hip," he laughs.

"Hip? Oh you're definitely a catfish," you tease.

"How do I know you're not some desperate housewife using me for kicks?" He accuses.

"I sent you pics," you say.

"I've sent mine too," he retorts. "Alright, only solution here is to admit we're both catfish. You want me to order you good food and I want... uh, well, you're a good distraction."

"A good distraction? That's it?" You huff. "Thanks, Ed."

"I'm playing. You know I like you. I was just on my way to meet this tall blonde and I called you instead."

"Sure you were," you hiss. "You know, I had too long a day for you to be so annoying."

He cackles. You smile, just a bit. He really can be a butt. You don't know why you talk to him.

"How's the pizza? You want me to order you some real stuff yet?"

"Eddie," you sigh. It's a nice offer but you're not stupid. You don't give people on the internet your address. "That's too much."

"It's really not," he insists.

"To me it is." You drop the pizza and paper towel on the lone TV table by your ratty sofa. "You know, I get it, you're trying to be nice, but... you just kinda make me feel..."

"What? I make you feel... some sort of way, so that's good, right?"

"Ugh, don't. I get it, alright? I'm poor. Trash," you cross your arms and sit back. "Go and meet the tall blonde and have your fancy five star dinner."

He's quiet, "I was only messing with you."

"Well, maybe you should stop," you say as you sit forward and talk directly into your phone. "You obviously don't have the time for me. And a lot more important friends so--"

"Hey, come on, it's a joke--"

You hit end and toss your phone to the other end of the couch. You already know you overreacted. Shoot. Ugh.

It's just that stupid woman today, yelling at you over a bunny ornament, like the fact that is was put on the wrong shelf is your fault. You organise the shelves constantly but people don't care. They don't read either.

Your phone jitters again. You ignore and get up. You pack away the leftover pizza and put it in the fridge. That's your dinner for tomorrow, if not the next day.

God, why does he have to rub his money in your face? His super fun life. He went to Tokyo last week on a work trip.

You're a bitch. Insecure at that. It's probably best you cut free now. You wouldn't want to project all that on him. Besides, it's starting to feel like he only talks to you to make himself feel better. He shouldn't need that much help.

❤️

It's your own fault. You know it. Your worst and best trait is your crippling self-awareness. You know what you are, how you are, but it doesn't make it better.

You feel bad. You always do. Even if you're right, you feel rotten. You just don't like being like that. And what did Eddie do but joke around?

Did he have to keep offering to pay for you? Or mention that tall blonde?

Sigh. Just focus. You go back to putting the throw pillows back into the display basket. You watched a pair of kids toss them around for the last hour.

Life isn't easy and you should stop expecting it to be. That's your problem. You can't settle for what you have.

Julie, your manager comes by as you set the last of the pillows on those nearly overflowing the basket. You smile. She scowls.

"Your name tag's upside down," she points to your chest.

You look down. Oh jeez. You flip it around.

"Dress code infraction. Next time, I'll write you up." She warns.

"Sorry," you frown.

"There's customers. Smile."

As if one cue, the automatic doors open. You busy yourself with the next display, as if the napkin rings are that interesting. Julie snaps her fingers at Casey. He sniffs and tries to act like he didn't smoke up before he punched in.

"You're the greeter. Mind doing some greeting," she hisses.

"Oh, yeah," he stands and struts away from the lawn chair display, "hey, dude, like, hi. Welcome to The Home Hub. Anything I can help you-- woah, no way."

He starts laughing. You peek over your shoulder as Julie sighs. Casey coughs and clears his throat, "bro, am I high or is this dude Iron Man?"

You turn and narrow your eyes at the man. Goatee, sunglasses, a nice suit. He bears a striking resemblance to the man behind the podium at he presser the night before. You tilt your head. That's impossible.

"Casey, go to the warehouse and start downstocking," Julie sneers as she stomps forward. "I'm so sorry, sir. We-- Oh, oh. Oh my god, it is him."

She swoons and fans herself. Your eyes go wide as you give a goof smile. She's ridiculous.

"Hey, sweetheart," he purrs at her. "I'm looking for uh, a..." he takes off his sunglasses and glances around, "a bath mat."

"Bath mat? Uh. Oh, er..."

"You," he points in your direction. You turn to look for someone else behind you. "Show me."

You face him and Julie gives you a crazed sneer. You step away from the napkin rings. "Sure, uh, sir, they're in the back."

"Amazing," he winks as he approaches. There's something about his cadence. You never noticed on the screen, but it's familiar?

"Tony Stark, but I'm sure you already know," he says as he comes up next to you.

You continue down the centre aisle and nod, "yep, uh, kinda."

"Kinda?" He wonders.

"I mean, you're Iron Man or something, right?"

"Or something," he chortles. "You know what, on the second hand," he stops and checks out a silver statue of a naked Grecian goddess, "I think I came for this." He traces along her tits. "Don't make em like they used to, huh?"

He looks at you. No, he looks at your chest. You sputter.

"Bath mats are this way," you turn.

"Ah, come on, don't be like that FinchiePie."

You stop short. Your lashes flick and you gulp. How does he know your user name. You turn to look at him.

He adjusts his tie as he comes closer.

"You know, my middle name is Edward. Anthony Edward Stark."

You stare at him. No, it can't be. That's ridiculous.

"Eddie?" You rasp.

He puts his hands out and smirks, "it's a cute nickname, isn't it?"

"No."

"You left things a little tense. I don't like untied ends so..."

"It's a joke. A prank," you shake your head. "Is this what you do for fun?"

"I'm a funny guy, sweetheart, but I'm not joking right now," he comes closer. "Look, if I tell you the truth, that there was no tall blonde, that I was lying, will you give me a chance?"

You search his face. You're lost. Your disbelief muddles reality.

"This isn't real."

"You ever tried shwarma? It's so damn good."

"No, Eddie-- No, Tony?" Your eyes flit back and forth. "I... I gotta..." you spin and scurry away.

He calls your name. You can't stop. You run down the bath aisle and into the employee restroom. You twist the lock and stare at your baffled reflection.

"What the fuck?" You ask the person in the mirror.

[v6quewrlds]

i saw you’re accepting dad/husband joe content eek!! could you write abt joe forgetting about his baby girl’s birthday because he’d been working all day? i love your writing smm 💗💗

you stood in the bustling kitchen, your eyes darting around the room as if searching for an escape route. the aroma of baking cookies filled the air, a sweet pattern of sugar and spice that seemed to mock the chaos that surrounded you. you wiped your hands on your apron, the fabric smudged with a rainbow of icing colors, and took a deep breath. the clock on the wall ticked away the minutes, each one a silent reminder of tomorrow's birthday party you were in the throes of preparing for.

amara and noa giggled in the living room, their laughter a delightful contrast to the pounding in your head. you glanced over your shoulder to find them playing with a pile of balloons, their cheeks rosy and eyes shining with mischief. "girls, dinner will be ready soon," you called out, hoping the promise of food would keep the chaos at bay for just a bit longer.

the door swung open, and joe's towering frame filled the doorway. the cool evening air brushed past him, carrying the faint scent of the falling autumn leaves. he looked exhausted, the shadows under his blue eyes betraying the toll the season was taking on him. you felt a pang of guilt for the mess you hadn't yet managed to hide, but it was quickly swallowed by your own fatigue. "welcome home, baby," you said with a forced smile. "how was your day?"

joe sighed, his eyes sweeping over the kitchen. "long," he replied, his voice gravelly. he shrugged off his jacket and tossed it over a chair. "but i'm home now." he walked over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist, planting a kiss on your forehead. "what do you need me to do?"

you leaned into him for a moment, your body language screaming for relief. "could you take the girls for their baths?" you asked, your voice a mix of hope and weariness. "they've been driving me up the wall."

joe's expression softened, and he nodded. "of course, i've got it," he said, releasing you from his embrace. he scooped up noa, her chubby cheeks squealing with glee, and held out his other hand to amara. "c'mon, pumpkin, let's give your mama a break. it's bath time."

the girls trailed behind joe as he headed towards the bathroom, the sound of their laughter echoing down the hallway. you couldn't help but smile at the sight of your husband, so at ease with your daughters despite the stress of his career. you took a moment to appreciate the quiet that had descended upon the kitchen, the only noise the gentle hiss of the oven.

in the bathroom, joe filled the tub with steaming water and bubbles. he tried to ignore the twinge of sadness in his heart knowing that he had missed most of amara's special day. he looked down at his watch, the glint of the gold band catching the light. "okay, missy," he said, turning to amara. "let's get you cleaned up. tomorrow's the big party, and we want you looking your best for all your friends, don't we?"

amara nodded solemnly, her curly pigtails bobbing with the movement. she stepped into the tub, her tiny hands gripping the side tightly. noa watched from her bouncer, her attention occupied by toys adorning the toy bar. as joe helped amara settle in, she looked up at him, her doe eyes filled with a sudden sadness.

"what's wrong, sweetheart?" joe asked, noticing the shift in amara's mood. he knelt beside the tub, his long legs folding beneath him with a quiet grace.

amara's voice was barely a whisper. "you forgot to tell me happy birthday, daddy."

joe felt his heart drop. he had been so consumed with his own responsibilities, he hadn't even realized he had missed the moment. "amara," he said, his voice filled with regret. "i'm so sorry, baby girl. i didn't forget. it's just been a long day for me. happy birthday!" he leaned in and kissed her forehead, her skin soft and warm against his lips.

the sadness in amara's eyes didn't dissipate. "but you didn't tell me when i woke up," she said, her voice small.

joe sighed. "you're right, i didn't. and i should have. i'm so sorry, amara," he said sincerely. he took a deep breath, trying to push away the guilt that washed over him. "but you know what, i'm going to make it up to you. mommy and i are going to throw you the best party ever tomorrow. how does that sound?"

amara's eyes lit up a bit. "really?"

"really," joe nodded. "now, let's get you clean so you're all ready for your big day tomorrow, okay?" he grabbed the bubble bath bottle and squirted a generous amount into the water, watching as the bubbles grew and grew, threatening to spill over the side of the tub. amara's sadness lifted, replaced by the excitement of the promise.

[tsandoll]

so i have the feeling taesan would be a very loving and caring boyfriend, lots of cuddles, hand holding and kisses but only when you two are alone. i don't think he would be into pda usually and you don't really have a problem with that. but i feel like sometimes he can be a bit too lowkey and straight up forgets to tell people that you're his girlfriend, he just let's them assume.

so i imagine the same thing happens with the rest of bnd. like he is totally sure that he told them about you at some point, but the problem is he totally didn't. so you are hanging out with him, when suddenly the others show up because well they live together and you are thrilled to meet his friends that he had told you so much about, but in return you just get confused expressions and the question of who you are. for a second you contemplate if you should get mad but you know how your boyfriend is and that he wouldn't keep you a secret from his friends on purpose, so when taesan introduces you just by your name and not as his girlfriend you decide to play along and act as if you're just a friend while you are hanging out with the guys.

but as soon as taesan and you are alone it's like something switches. 'so when were you gonna tell your friends that we're together?' you ask him and his eyes go wide, but before he can apologize you laugh a bit to show that you're not really mad, but what you are is determined. you push him down on the bed and straddle him, leaning close to whisper in his ear:"i'm gonna make you regret it."

your mission for the night: let everyone in the entire house hear taesan so that there will be no doubt about who you are. but as taesan is usually not too loud you know you have to give him a very special treatment tonight.

oh, i wanna hear his moans so badly, i just know they sound heavenly and so hot, especially when giving him head, imagine him lying on the bed hair sticking to his forehead looking at you with a fucked-out expression after you've already made him cum and whine when you just keep going, overstimulating him because you love hearing and seeing him like this, so desperate for your touch and not caring anymore about who could hear him because he is too focused on you and the pleasure you are giving him.

and i want to see him face the others in the morning, shyly avoiding their eyes and cheeks burning red because he knows they heard him.

💙

(im so sorry it's taken so long to get to your asks :(( i just always want to give a good response to these so badly so i put it off more and more until i feel like i can do it justice.. sorry nonnie 💔)

there's a certain point he reaches where he can no longer control himself. it wouldn't matter who could hear him,, all that would matter is you an show you're making him feel in that moment. he'd already be so sensitive, so needy for release when you put your mouth on him. your mouth would be so warm and you'd lower onto his length, taking him in the back of your throat so easily. he'd immediately moan out loud, his hips suddenly jutting upward. he'd grip onto whatever he can around him because he has to find some way to ground himself. your head would bob up and down his length, holding his hips in place so he can't squirm away from you. he would be so ruined already, all of his whines would come close to sounding like cries. honestly if you didn't give him a bit of mercy right now he might actually cry. he's getting louder and louder and it's making you smile.. he looks dizzy when you look up at him, like he can't keep himself together. gosh he's gonna be so embarrassed later on when he's not focused on holding his orgasm back. his whole body would be hot, the gentle shudder of his body is only warming him up more. when you pull off of his length to just stroke it for a moment you would be able to see how red his tip is. he needs to cum so so badly so you finally let him. he would let out the most beautiful string of moans when he finally cums, tugging at his hair and thrusting into your mouth gently. he thought the torture was finally over but you'd keep stroking him through it.. stroking him even faster once he's run out of cum for the time being. this is when he'd really lose it, moaning and begging for you to stop, but you don't <3 not until you feel like everyone's heard him well enough!!

[aurorasgate]

astarion x reader

18+ MINORS DNI, no pronouns used, sucking astarions dick like he deserves <3, this got a little sappy but i love him and he deserve it, unedited i'm sorry i'm still getting over a cold but obvi sucking dick comes first

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

his own pleasure, deep and pure and wanting to be given by the sweetest of loves, was still something astarion was getting used to. though he cheekily accepts anything you give him, he can feel how his skin runs much warmer than it usually does under your affections, as if he’d been basking in the sun for far too long but after so long without it, without you, he wasn’t keen to pull himself away either. 

even if his skin burned with a blush so deep he’s sure you can see it in the darkness of your tent and through your heavy lashes each time you peek up at him from your place between his legs, he didn’t want to look away, didn’t want it to stop. he never wanted your love to stop.

your lips are soft and teasing as you kiss from the base of his cock all the way to his flushed tip where you place multiple delicate kisses while slowly pumping his length in your hand. he’s hard and aching and you aren’t in much better shape, a fact you’re sure is not lost on him either. before astarion can even find his breath, stolen from the moment of your addicting touch and loving words, you swipe your tongue flat along his leaking slit, the taste of him melting against your tastebuds.

deep and breathless, laced with wanting and what you swear is the melody of the heavens on his tongue, he calls your name, unable to stop the way his hips buck up to feel more of you. you are so easily coaxed to give in- no teasing tonight- hollowing your cheeks and taking him in inch by inch, feeling your own arousal growing with his heaviness on your tongue and his precum sticky in your mouth.

lewd wet noises and quiet mewls from you both fill the tent in time with the pace you set, trying to take him deep and deeper with every bob of your head and with each tap at the back of your throat, every murmur astarion makes about how divine you feel, you can’t help but return with your own whimpers. telling of just how much this was affecting you too.

every way he reciprocates only adds to it all; the long fingers that have found their way into your hair, lightly tugging on your roots when you swallow him deep and let out a small choke that makes him even harder or how easily your free hands find each others and your fingers lace together perfectly, letting you feel the pressure of his attempt to not cum too quickly, to keep you closer and closer to him.

“fucking hells, my love,” he voice is raspy, betraying of just how much of his sanity is slipping from him all at the mercy of your pretty mouth and greedy tongue but you could have him all.

you can feel him pulsing against your tongue, can taste more of him than before and when you pull away for your first full breath of air since you settled between his legs, a string of saliva and pre still connects you to his pretty pale cock. you can feel his ruby eyes on you, watching the shimmering string snap and coat your lips even more, taking in your heaving chest and the feeling of his undead heart beating uncontrollably when you look up at him like that.

he pulls on your hand that he hasn’t stopped holding with more force than you anticipated, having you nearly stumbling completely flush against him. you catch a glimpse of sharp fangs behind panting lips as he pulls you closer, now sharing every breath, the wetness on his cock smearing and cooling on your stomach.

“look at you..” the pads of his lithe fingers caress down your cheek, over the wetness of your mouth, yearning to kiss you but wanting to take you in for just a moment longer, not forget the sight of your love and lust filled eyes, your messy mouth, the warmth of your cheek that is as hot as he is. you melt into his touch, lean closer to him, the slight chill of his lips like a feather against your own as he says, “you are a vision.”

“astarion..” his name fades into your kiss, into the way he hastily takes off the rest of your clothes and indulges in you, in your love, a sweet whisper filled with your desire and devotion that he swallows again and again and returns to you tenfold.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[woso-dreamzzz]

Nothing But Net II

Leah Williamson x Netballer!Reader

Summary: You've got one of the biggest games of your life and your girlfriend comes to support you

Your foot tapped on unsteady rhythm on the floor of the locker room.

Your throat bobbed uncomfortably.

"y/n...you feeling okay?"

You looked up in shock at being addressed before slowly letting out a long breath.

Funmi, your club and national teammate, was looking down at you, brow raised.

"Yeah." You coughed. "Yeah, I'm feeling good. Why...Do I not look good?"

She winced. "You look a little...green?"

You chuckled awkwardly. "I...I'm just gonna grab a bit of air. How long have we got?"

"Half an hour...maybe a bit less."

"Cool."

You left the locker room quickly, pacing up and down the hall like your life depended on it. With Metcalf out on injury, you were left to fill the role of Captain.

It's not that you didn't want it - you did, desperately - but you thought that your first game as captain would come at London Pulse during a first game of the season.

Not during a final.

Certainly, not during a final for the Netball World Cup.

"You're certainly looking sorry for yourself."

You rolled your eyes as Natalie Metcalf joined you, leaning against a wall with a grin. "Is it that obvious?"

She shrugged. "I saw your football bird turning up. She really likes her netball, huh? I saw her watching when we played Pulse as well. Is she at all your games?"

The barest hint of a smile pulled at your lips. "Yeah," You said," She tries to, at least. I didn't know if she was going to make this one. She had media stuff to do."

"Tough life." Nat blew out a breath. "Being captain of the national team. You'll find out when you lead us to victory."

The pit in your stomach was back with a vengeance.

"We're against Australia," You were practically whimpering," They've been beating us for a while now."

"Then turn it around," Nat replied," Hell, give your pretty bird a show."

You rolled your eyes. "She doesn't like it when you call her 'bird'. She's got a thing against it."

"Then it's a good thing she's not here. Get out on the court, l/n, and get us this win."

●～●～●～●～

The first quarter had you feeling confident.

Plenty of shots came and went but every time the ball was in your hands, it found home in the net, equalising the score at the very last second.

The second quarter came quickly after that but you had just enough time to grab some water and search the court for Leah - finding her the row behind the coaches, relaxed back in her seat with a cap on and a stupid pair of sunglasses on her face that she knew you hated.

She noticed you looking and grinned, tapping the stupid frames and you sneered at her - though both of you recognised the smile poking through.

By the time the second quarter ended though, you were trailing by four points.

"Listen," You said as the group huddled together tightly, feeling the weight of captaincy on your back," It could have gone worse. This is Australia. It could be going a lot worse but...It could be going better. Keep your heads up. Don't let them get that ball and for heaven's sake, don't forget who you're marking!"

Your optimism faded quickly as the third quarter turned to utter carnage.

Australia shut down every option you had, intercepting and blocking at every turn.

You were getting annoyed.

Your team were getting annoyed.

From the corner of your eye, you could tell Leah was getting annoyed - finally sitting up properly, elbows on her knees as she leaned closer to the court.

"Hey, hey, my girl," She said when the break before the fourth quarter began.

"You're not supposed to be down here," You reminded her quickly, your throat closing up like you were about to start sobbing.

"Don't care," She said dismissively, holding your arms tightly," Listen to me, my girl, you're doing great. You're doing amazing. Don't be so hard on yourself."

You scoffed. "Easy for you to say. You captained the Lionesses to Euros victory. What exactly am I captaining the Roses to? Another Australia defeat."

"Enough," She said firmly, her own 'captain voice' appearing immediately," Don't belittle yourself like that. You're captain material, my girl, both for the Roses and Pulse. Go to your team, knock some sense into them and get them to get you that ball no matter the cost. Got it?"

Her hand reached up to cradle your cheek and her eyes were half wild, refusing to move from your face before you nodded.

"Got it."

●～●～●～●～

Leah watched you walk away from her, glancing at the clock to tell you that you had a minute and a half left before the fourth quarter started.

You grabbed Housby and Cardwell on the way, tugging them into a hastily made huddle.

She couldn't hear exactly what you were saying, but you looked serious - face set in a hard line before you all broke away when the buzzer sounded.

It was the tightest of matches.

Every shot Australia took, the Roses missed.

Every shot the Roses took, Australia missed.

The final minute was counting down and Leah shifted in her seat uncomfortably.

Australia - 56

England - 55

An interception is converted quickly at the beginning of the last minute and you shoot effortlessly - equalising the score with ease.

The game resets.

A fake to the right.

Pass into Australia's third.

Intercepted.

Recovered by England.

Passed into the shooting circle.

Into your hands.

Shot lined up.

Shot taken.

Buzzer sounded.

The ball sinks into the net seconds before the buzzer sounds.

Australia - 56

England - 57

●～●～●～●～

You collapsed to the ground, unable to believe it as the team dog pile you - something incredibly violent when compared to the more restrained way that netballers usually celebrate.

You let out a shaky gasp of air as your teammates are pulled from your body and Leah crashed into you. She held you tight, bouncing you up and down before kissing you soundly on the lips like nobody was watching.

"Told you, my girl. You're captain material."

"Means a lot," You said, adrenaline pumping through your body," From the Euro winner."

"Euro winning hardly compares to World Cup," Leah replied, kissing you again," Gonna put your trophy and medal in the cabinet, my girl. Can't wait to tell Keira and G that we've got more world cups at home than they do."

You rolled your eyes fondly, relaxing into Leah's body as she rained the kisses down onto your head.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" She teased," Winning for your country. Looks good on you."

"Looks good on you too," You replied.

She grinned rakishly. "Yeah? We should do it more often."

[ilovegrumpyoldmen]

LOGAN HOWLETT X M!READER

PART ONE: THE BAR.

Btw: I’m also on wattpad, @ilovegrumpyoldmen. This story will be published in parts but shouldn’t take to long. They will come out faster on wattpad tho :3

——————————————

I walked into the local bar, bored and pissed off from a recent breakup. I sat down, popping my neck, sighing, and ordering my usual. As I was drinking I looked around the bar. That's when I saw him, THE hottest fucking guy I've ever seen. I started internally freaking out. I used my phone camera to fix my messed up hair. I've never bothered styling it, I typically just let it do whatever... but for this hunk? Shit, I'll style my hair however he wants.

I chugged the rest of my drink and slid off the barstool, popping up the collar of my jacket and confidently striding over to the hot guy. As I walked closer I noticed his hair, it was styled with these small, almost cat like, little flippy pieces. Cute, like blowjob handles. I took a final deep breath and tapped his shoulder. He turned to me. Holy fucking piss. He's so goddamn pretty. His eyes? Heavenly. I stood there just staring at him.

"Y' got a starin' problem or somthin, bub?" The wildly attractive man said in a gruff tone, worn down over the years from excessive drinking. I quickly cleared my throat. "No! No.. sorry just uhm.. drunk?" I tried to make an excuse. The man just sighed. "I don't do autographs anymore kid." He shook his head. "No!!! No I don't want an autograph.. uhm.." I trailed off, his handsome face making me forget the lines I practiced in my head.

"Uh.." My mouth felt dry. God just spit it the fuck out. "Fuckin' kids..." The man grumbled to himself, downing a glass of whiskey like it was water. Fuck that was hot, seeing his Adam's Apple bob when he swallowed. I made an exaggerated cough just to make sure I had his attention. "Uhm, hello.. I'm Y/N." I gave my best smile that I've been workshopping in the mirror damn near daily. The man just chuckled a little. "Logan." I watched his eyes look me up and down.

After some mildly awkward conversation I got to know all about him. He used to be an X-Man. How epic was that!? "So.. jus' been takin' it a day at a time." Logan hummed while downing his 7th glass of whiskey since we started talking. I stayed quiet for a moment. "You're gonna kill yourself if you keep drinking like that." I said quietly so no one else would hear, not wanting to embarrass him on accident. I was getting worried with his drinking habits, watching him basically be a garbage disposal for whiskey. "I'll be fine, thanks bub." He rubbed his face, setting down the glass on the bar with a loud clink.

He sighed deeply. "I gotta go kid, it was real nice meetin' ya." He got up, slinging his jacket over his shoulder. "Uhm.. wait." I said, getting up as well. He cocked an eyebrow, waiting for me to continue. "Can I have your number?" I finally managed to ask. "Sure bub." He wrote his number on a napkin and handed it to me. He ruffled my hair and left. I stared at the napkin, my heart racing faster than a damn bullet train.

[tatatale]

Hello-

Transmission interrupted...

New connection detected...

loading...

loading...

loading...

FR15K BOB IS IN CONTROL OF THIS ASK BOX NOW CYPHER :]

HELLO ALIVE CAST!! I'VE HEARD THAT YOU ARE ALL HAVING A X-MAS PARTY SADLY I COULDNT ATTEND DUE TO BUSY SCHEDULES, BUT I'VE COME BEARING GIFTS FOR ALL OF YOU!

I'M THE ONE THAT DOXED LYATA BACK THEN...(SORRY ABOUT THAT)

OH! AND MEET AMETHYST :]

TRANSMISSION DISCONNECTED...

What was that about ?? anyway, happy X-mas! ( ￣▽￣)

(I know it's a bit early to say, but I just want to say it now before I forget.)

(OMG sorry for taking so long, Tumblr keeps eating my asks 😭)

[geminiwritten]

what is your writing process like? how do you write so much so fast and how do you not lose steam? (i love everything you write and tbh you’re inspiring me to finish one of my wips)

AH OMG THANK YOU!!! i am inspiring you??? gah, that makes me so happy 🖤

ooh, okay... my process haha WELL once i have an idea or outline, i'll usually info dump into a word doc or notes app. it's absolute nonsense, but it gets me excited and sometimes forcing myself to write through the whole summary will help me discover all the little bits that tie everything together.

then once i've done that, i'll (usually just in my head or notes app) break it up into scenes / moments (this is the part that REALLY helps me stay on track and not burn out, because each scene or moment is exciting so i look forward to the next)

e.g., let's look at my fic 'the plan' (this is literally how i planned it) 1. apartment with phoenix, payback, and fanboy: introduce reader's crush on bob and come up with "the plan" 2. the run where he sees her underwear 3. the sleepover: tension (games), cream pies, borrowed clothes 4. in the kitchen (almost kiss) 5. brief intermission to revamp "the plan" 6. montage of jealous moments 7. group setting to tease bob and get his pov 8. the beach / the finale

so you can kind of see that each scene or moment has something delicious or tense that happens between reader x bob.

THAT is what keeps me going. breaking it into 'moments' where i know something fun is going to happen. sometimes the in betweens and bridging bits are unexpectedly good (when hangman joins in on 'the plan') OR sometimes they're boring... and sometimes (a lot of the time) i just put a dash (-) and cut to the next moment because i feel like a bridging bit will make the fic too long.

and that's pretty much it! i struggle big time when i don't know what's coming next, which used to happen a lot. i used to just start writing and see where it went, but now i feel like i've got the rhythm down!

i know 'planning it' sounds like... duh. but planning out moments is what works. moments that lead up to the BIG moment. and making each little moment delicious is the best part!

other tips and tricks! (that help me, so maybe they might help others)

TALK DIALOGUE TO YOURSELF (i do this when i walk my dog or clean the house or shower, it helps SO much especially with fight scenes or big confession scenes where characters need to bounce off each other, because you can naturally respond without thinking too much which is what would happen with the characters if they were real! then don't forget to write it in your notes or something)

if you're not sure about your 'moments' use headcanons / tropes!!! or watch movies / shows with two love interests who have a similar dynamic to your characters (i get lots of cute moments from friends, b99, the office) even small bits of dialogue that you could build a moment around!

WRITE A FULL SCENE OR MOMENT, THEN READ IT BACK / EDIT. don't lose the momentum to edit as you go, but also i like to edit each section before i move on so i know it's flowing well. then i do an overall re-read / edit a day or so AFTER finishing.

take breaks! watch edits! go for a short walk! it all helps, because once you're not staring at the screen, it'll probably come to you

in saying that though... i write BEST when i'm at a desk, in my study, no noise. so if you're struggling on the couch with a movie playing and someone talking in your ear... i'd say give the quiet a go! (although, i'm a bit of a hermit and i talk to myself so much while writing, i can't possible be in the company of other people)

I'M SO SORRY THIS WAS WAY LONGER THAN IT NEEDED TO BE BUT I LOVE SHARING AND I LOVE HELPING OTHER PEOPLE TO WRITE WHEN I CAN SO I HOPE SOME OR ANY OF THIS IS HELPFUL 🖤🖤🖤

[wowbright]

Anderson’s Guide to the Birds of North America, Chapter 1: Lover Boy

Summary: Fourteen scenes from the lives of Blaine Anderson, grad student and avid birder, and Kurt Hummel, clothing designer and Vogue writer, from before their first meeting in the spring of 2020 through falling in love.

Note: Back during the COVID lockdowns I wrote a couple hundred words of Klaine lockdown meet-cute. I thought I would write more, but I guess I didn't feel like writing about the COVID lockdown during the COVID lockdown, so I never did and I never posted the tiny bit I had written. Thanks to Klaine Valentine’s Challenge 2025, I’m finally doing the thing! I'm trying to keep each chapter to around 500 words. Thanks @spaceorphan!

AO3

~~~

Chapter 1: Lover Boy

Blaine was going to go insane.

He knew he should be grateful. He had it better than a lot of other people. He didn't have to worry about where his next paycheck was coming from, because he didn't get a paycheck, because he was an idiot who had, for some reason, decided his fascination with birds was enough to carry him through another five years of school at minimum after completing college. More to the point, he received monthly distributions from a trust fund his grandparents had set up for him in their wills, and though it didn't make him filthy rich, it gave him enough to live on without having to worry about finances.

But he never would have moved in with Cooper if he’d known they'd be locked up together for weeks (or would it be months?) on end. He loved his brother, but his brother was a lot. At least they had separate bedrooms, plus Cooper had the recording studio and was staying fairly busy with audiobook work. Unfortunately, Cooper did not keep all of his acting and voice exercises to the studio. Nor did he keep his opinions to himself, no matter how many times Blaine said, “I'm not changing what I'm making for dinner,” and “This is what I choose to wear and your opinion has no bearing on the matter,” and “I'm sorry you can't go to the gym, but no, you do not have my permission to use me as a dumbbell for bench presses.”

Blaine was spending increasing amounts of time shut in his bedroom with ear plugs and noise canceling headphones on, working on compiling and coding his field research notes and, when that became too tiresome, checking recently submitted species sightings on ebird.org for potential errors.

Today, he was listening to his Upbeat Sexy With a Twist of Romance playlist—the one he used to listen to while getting dressed for a night out on the town. Oh, what a different time that had been. Now instead of gelling his hair while crooning along to Freddie Mercury singing Ooh, love, ooh, loverboy, whatcha doin’ tonight?  while hoping to get laid or better yet find love, he was bobbing along to the song while entering numbers into a spreadsheet.

But that could be good, too. The rhythm of the music combined with the spreadsheet sent him into a near hypnotic trance that made him forget time and boredom and COVID. It was as close as Blaine got to heaven these days.

A sudden weight on his shoulder jarred him out of his trance.

His brother period of course. Just when Blaine’s mind had found some semblance of peace, Cooper had to disturb it.

He removed his headphones and one ear plug. “What is it, Coop?”

“New lockdown project: I’m going to turbocharge my manscaping routine. I need waxing tips.”

“You interrupted my work for that?”

Cooper waved at the computer screen dismissively. “You should be thanking me. That must be incredibly boring. What do all those numbers even mean?”

Blaine looked at his brother. He looked at the numbers. He looked at his brother again. “I mean this with all due respect, but I seriously want to kill you right now.” He closed his eyes. He took a breath. “I'm going for a walk.”

Blaine had already been for a walk that morning. It was the migratory season, so of course he had. He’d gone out with his binoculars as soon as the sun started twinkling over the horizon. He’d ticked off twenty-seven species, including his first American redstart of the season along with plenty of palm and yellow-rumped warblers, but apparently two hours of birding in the morning wasn't enough to keep him sane.

He jumped from his chair, pulled on a jacket, and grabbed his binoculars. “I'm going to walk until I no longer feel murderous. Love you!” The door slammed behind him.