#(<- that’s the steam coming from how hard I’m thinkin)

[candycryptids]

it's my turn to shoot you some questions >:3c

do you think tangy and fornax might get along? 👀 and if so, how would she feel about a chill hangout with them doing some fun painting, and having a big tasty meal afterwards? (since i read that she enjoys those and thought WHY NOT SQUEEZE IN BOTH.... ehehe)

Ehehehe ヾ(´▽｀*)ﾉ☆ hiii omg

I think they could! Tangy is generally amiable with new people and the fastest way to any gals friendship OR heart is through… ok well it’s technically through the rib cage, but the saying is through the stomach. How they’d meet (meat.. 🤤) is another matter.. but that’s less important than their nice hangout TToTT

The two of them painting together omg…. ฅ(⌯͒•̩̩̩́ ˑ̫ •̩̩̩̀⌯͒)ฅ that’d be so lovely TTATT I keep rotating in a ponderous way what they’d be painting- like, scenery or a still life… or each other djfjfgkdkgkdckdla I can’t imagine they’d be painting somebody else (Tangy’s not that confident) she might get distracted asking Fornax about their adventures ‘v’ there’s so much out there to see and do it’s too much for one person…

….. the aftermath of their meal is gonna look like a war zone I get the feeling they’re both big eaters 🫢 (does Fornax know how to cook? I can’t recall 🤔) [Dw though Tangy will wash dishes 😤 she’s gotten real good at that cos it’s usually the trade off for not making the food is cleaning up afterwards]

[saintslewis]

𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒𝐈𝐍 𝐎𝐍 𝐌𝐘 𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐓𝐎𝐎𝐒 | 𝐋𝐇𝟒𝟒

pairing: tattoo artist!lewis hamilton x black fem!reader

summary: in which reader needs a good tattoo artist to help her vision come to life and lewis, a mutual friend, is recommended and is more than happy to help you out.

warnings: cussing, outfit descriptions, mentions of tattoo needles, mentions of w33d, smut (18+ mdni), pet names, just read 🫵🏽 (buckle in, frens) sorry for typos!

saint’s team radio 🎀: heyyyy! this spawned in my mind in the middle of the night and my super talented fren @mauvecherie-writes came up with this masterpiece. hope you all enjoy 🤭. (anon i hope this does your request justice!)

tags: @mauvecherie-writes @queenshikongo3 @httpsserene @hopefulromantic1 @exotic-iris13 @perfecttrashface @non-stop-imagines @peyiswriting @purplelewlew @alika-4466 @arshiyuh @yeea-nah @louvrepool @motheroffae @lorarri

pls like, reblog and comment! 🫶🏽

pls note, the lady in the header does not represent the reader! 🫶🏽

“You’ve been sitting there thinking so hard, I could see steam comin’ out your head.” Marie laughed as she walked close to you with two mimosas in her hand, handing one to you. The get-together she occasionally hosts with all of your mutual friends was in full swing, everyone in different corners of the huge house.

Giving her an eye roll, you sipped on the drink before answering. “Girl, fuck you.” You cussed, hearing her laugh. Following close behind her was another one of your friends, Lani. Her kitten heels clacked against the tiled floor as she sat next to you on the light blue couch.

“What’s going on, what’s the tea?” She sipped on her drink and held onto it and she looked at you. “Well my lovely friends, I’ve been thinking about getting a back tattoo for a good minute now.” You replied, leaning back into your seat as your friends gasped with excitement.

Marie held your manicured hand in excitement, “Girl oh my god, it’s going to look so good on you!”. Lani then put her drink down then sat up to look at you properly. “What you gonna get? How big?” She asked.

“A red dragon maybe. Covering the whole thing, It’s been on my mind.” You answered, looking between your excited friends. “Anddd you’re wearing a backless dress right now! Y/n, you better get this damn tattoo.” Marie said, still very much holding onto your hand.

“Anddd it’s going to look great during backshots.” Lani smiled and that earned her a smack on her arm from you.

“Stop thinkin nasty. I just want it because I think it’ll look good with all those backless clothes I got.” You admitted although the thought of it made your skin a little warm. “So what’s stopping you from getting it, bae? ‘Cause I’m excited like I’m getting it.” Marie gushed. “Can’t find a good artist around here who caters red ink for black people.” You shrugged.

It was tough trying to find tattoo artists in your city, much less those who work well with red ink. Most were extremely pricey, others worked with complicated pieces and only wanted pieces like portraits or lions or they just left you on read after attempting to make an appointment.

A moment passed by and Lani smacked your leg repeatedly as she came to a realisation. The look of unspoken excitement travelled between your friends and soon enough, you knew they were plotting something.

“Y/n, oh my goodness you genius!” Marie exclaimed and that made your eyebrows furrow even more with confusion.

“Okay, I am very confused by what is happening so I’m just going to grab another snack.” You voiced out and you couldn’t even move because both women held you down as they smiled like maniacs.

Lani nodded first then turned her head to look at you. “Okay okay. Y/n, we’ve got the perfect artist for you. D’you remember Lewis?” She grinned and you tried to think about it fully.

Lewis, Lewis…oh god, that Lewis. The incredibly beautiful man you met through your clearly unhinged friends at a housewarming party two years ago. He was that type of distant crush that would never go away even if you tried and it didn’t help that he was the quiet type who would hang out with your large friend group every now and then.

“…uh huh. What about him?” You replied, hoping that no one heard your voice almost falter at the mention of him. “He’s a tattoo artist! I don’t know how I forgot but that man just keeps to himself for real.” Lani chuckled before continuing. “But yeah anyways, he could do it for you!”

Never in a million years would you think that he would be a tattoo artist and funnily enough, his arm is filled with them. You actually had no clue what he did, always curious whenever you saw the G Wagon that he would hop into after any get-together was over.

“I don’t know, you guys. I’d have to talk to him first about everything and that seems like a lot. I don’t wanna bother the guy to squeeze in someone who has no clue what they’re doing-” You stopped your ramble once you realised that your friends were just staring at you.

“Girl, you never ramble like that unless you find a dude cute.” Marie teased as she watched you avoid eye contact with her. Smacking your lips, you shook your head and tried to appear like this news didn’t phase you.

So focused on the subject at hand, you didn’t notice that Lani was gone. Finally hearing the familiar clack of her heels, you looked up and your breath hitched. You had just denied even thinking about him but there stood Lewis, quietly chewing on his gum with a glint in his eyes as he looked at you.

With your hand still in Marie’s hold, she squeezed it as she stood up and moved to stand next to Lani. “Lewis, you remember Y/n, right? An absolute beaut.” Lani started. “Anywho, my good sis wants a tattoo and obviously, you came to my mind. Aight, see y’all later.” She continued and just like that, her and Marie disappeared.

“I’m sorry for them, they can get a lil crazy.” You spoke, offering your hand to him and he gently shook your hand with both of his large ones. “They’ve also had some green gummies so I get it.” He smiled and that alone, just sent you to another dimension.

He’s British. You made sure to make little notes along the way.

And he dressed incredibly well. Sleeveless white shirt, white cargos, air force ones and his huge tattooed arms on display. The jewellery making the outfit look all the more good.

It also didn’t help that your dress was the same shade of white as his entire outfit.

“Although we’ve briefly met before, I’m Lewis. Nice seeing you again.” He introduced himself, not breaking any eye contact with you and he could tell you weren’t expecting to see him. “Y/n. I’m sure those two already told you why they dragged you here,” You nervously smiled. “Didn’t wanna waste your time with my questions.”

“You’re good, love. Wanna sit down and talk about it?” Lewis asked, pointing to the couch you were just sitting on. This area of the house wasn’t crowded so you could hear each other clearly.

The nickname he called you by threw you into a loop, nodding at him as a response because you couldn’t come up with one on the spot.

The two of you went on to speak on everything revolving around the tattoo. Your experiences trying to find a good enough artist that you wanted to feel comfortable with, the placement of it and the design. There were all types of jokes thrown into the conversation, making you feel comfortable. He also listened, nodding and replying after you spoke.

“So I’ve got two options if I decide to chicken out of the dragon one.” You said, twiddling your fingers as you still avoided eye contact with Lewis. “Alright even though my favourite would have to be the dragon.” He winked, chewing his gum.

You flushed hearing him say that. You couldn’t imagine being naked in front of him, letting your body be a canvas he gets to work on. Of course you would like to be naked in another way but that couldn’t happen. He definitely has to have someone in his life. Would he though if he just winked at you? Or was he just playing with you because he can sense you’re shy-

“Y/n, love, you still with me?” Lewis worried a tad bit as he watched you zone out on him. Shaking yourself out of it, you were grounded by his eyes boring into yours. Clearing your throat slightly, you asked a different question. “Uh if I do go ahead with it, where will we be?”

“Right now, my studio is under renovations so I’ve got my home studio. Hope that’s okay with you, anything to help you be comfortable.” He reassured, sitting back and the sight of him just sitting so confidently had you squirming in your seat, having to cross your legs.

“That’s fine,” your voice reaching an octave higher than normal. “What was the other design, sweetie? Haven’t done a tattoo on a client in a while so I’m grateful that I’ll be the one who gets to work on this.” Lewis mentioned, watching you lose your train of thought everytime you two locked eyes and he found it quite endearing.

“…A lower back tattoo, preferably a word or a heart.” You muttered, Lani’s words running through your mind. Stop, you can’t think about that right now. “That’s a nice one.” He commented, tilting his head and admired your shyness.

Ever since he laid his eyes on you, Lewis had made it his mission to find a way to get with you. He was in awe everytime you would show at one of the many games nights or celebrations, looking effortlessly beautiful yet timid as well. He hadn’t known if you were single until a mutual friend mentioned you and blind dates in the same sentence.

Lewis thanked the universe for giving him the chance to do his favourite thing with the woman he had fancied.

After a bit more conversation, you had managed to get his number and bid goodbye to him, a very warm hug from him to you, and you hurried to your car to take several deep breaths afterwards. After not being intimate with anyone for a long while, you were embarrassed that a single conversation left you in a puddle with an all too familiar feeling in your stomach.

Consoling yourself whilst driving, you grew excited for the week ahead for the tattoo, of course.

-

Darting your eyes between your phone and the house you were currently parked outside of, you felt confused although your gps led you to the correct address.

“Sis c’mon, he wore a cartier bracelet like it was nothing.” You joked to yourself, trying to keep yourself at ease with the fact that your entire back will be filled with ink very soon.

Clearly the camera right by the gate was able to see you and the gate opened up for you. Finally parking next to the car you were familiar with, you fixed up your outfit. You tried walking to the front door with an excruciatingly slow pace to try and calm your nerves but as soon as Lewis opened the door, that all went out the window. His gaze was piercing as he leaned on the door frame, watching you twiddle with your nails and walk over to him with the same shy energy you held the other day.

“You can’t be lookin at people like that, Lewis.” You spoke with a slight smile, being welcomed into his large home. “Like how, Y/n?” He smiled as he closed the front door behind him, admiring every inch of your body.

“Like you wanna eat me alive.” You chuckled, choosing to not feel his glare on you after you said that. He chuckled as well, deciding to not comment and wanting you to be comfortable first.

“Anything you need before we start, love? You seem nervous.” Lewis asked, placing his hand on your back and lead you towards his home tattoo studio. An incredibly large room with decor that screamed Architectural Digest, the tattoo chair stitched with his initials ‘LH’ and a candle was lit, a ocean-like scent wafting through the air. You had told him that you liked that candle scent all those days ago and the fact that he remembered made you blush.

Low rnb music was playing and a calm atmosphere washed over you as soon as you entered the room.

“It’s my first big tattoo, of course i’m nervous about it.” You replied with a sigh, plopping down on the soft couch and placed your phone on the record player stand.

Playing with the band of your shorts, you knew he was looking at you from the doorway. “Also it’s a lil silly but I don’t even know if this shit will look good on me, y’know? I wanted this but i guess it’s just the nerves.” You continued.

Not even hearing him move from his spot, you lifted your head to see him crouched down in front of you. His tattooed hands landed on your thighs without breaking eye contact with you. “Can I tell you what I think?” He asked. All you could do was nod. He hadn’t touched you in the way you wanted but in an instant, you could feel a puddle forming.

“On you, it will be the best piece I’ve done because it was made to sit on your body. A canvas that people will get to admire, a canvas that you’ve given me the honour to work on.” He continued, hands barely moving from your legs.

Taking a breath, you finally got the strength to respond to what he said. “Are you always this poetic to your clients?” You tried to joke but his eyes were glued to yours, the same way he looked at you at the housewarming.

“It took me a while to garner the confidence to talk to you, to just be in your presence. Every time I had the luck to see you, I would cherish it because we wouldn’t be in the same room all the time. I want the time we have here to be meaningful. And before you make that adorable timid face, yes, I have always found you attractive.” He spoke and you were just speechless.

“Are you serious?” You managed to speak, your voice becoming softer the more you accepted everything he was saying.

“Would you like me to show you how serious I am about you?” Lewis shifted his legs so that he could kneel in front of you. You could see the truth in his eyes as he spoke, darting between your eyes and lips.

You whimpered and you couldn’t control it, his hold on you was so strong.

“I need your words, princess.”

“Please. Please show me, Lewis.” You whined out.

That was all it took for him to begin to reach for the band of your shorts but you put your hands on his to stop. His eyebrows furrowed and before he spoke, you went for it. “Kiss me.” You breathed out. Lewis stood to his full height then sat on the couch next to you, pulling you onto his lap.

You made the first move and leaned in, your lips moving together in sync as he kissed you passionately. His hand held the back of your neck, bringing even closer while his other hand trailed down your arched back.

Your whimpers echoed throughout his home studio as he pulled away from the kiss, watching you try and grind to get some sort of pleasure in. Gently putting his hands on your waist, he guided you and you gasped as you felt his length, long and hard. Just waiting for you.

It felt unbearable, a knot in your stomach needed to be released and you threw you head back, just wanting to wash over the arousal. Lewis watched how you pleasured yourself on him, your denim clothes restricting the both of you from connecting skin to skin. “You enjoying yourself, darling?” He licked his lips, looking up at you with dark eyes clouded with lust.

You wanted to respond, desperately, but you couldn’t bring yourself to. The warmth from the two of you became stronger, him leaning up to begin peppering kisses on your necks and not wanting to create any marks just yet. “..Yes.” You managed to breathe out and you loved the feeling of his large hands roaming around your body, not able to get enough of you.

Lewis held your hips firmly, halting your movement and that made you want to cry out of not getting a release. “Lewis, please.” You whined and he chuckled against your neck. “Take your clothes off and lie down, princess.” He said, looking at your cute angry face with a slight pout evident.

Instead of doing what he said, you just looked at him in the eyes clearly wanting to start a challenge. However, he knew his gaze made you weak. It was one of his many charms. All he had to do was slightly tilt his head and it had you standing up and slowly taking your clothes off, him following suit. You oggled at him, his tattoos gracefully placed on his skin making your mouth water.

With you laid down on the couch, he crawled up your body and crashed his lips into yours. He held your neck so gently as he kissed your jawline then your neck all the way down to where you needed him the most. Lewis laid between your legs to admire your clothed core, giving praise to your thighs and ass as he planted a kiss on your inner thighs.

“Oh shit…” you gasped as he started licking all around your clit until he planted his mouth on it, your moans bouncing off the walls as Lewis devoured you like you were his dinner. Sticking his tongue in and fucking you with it was really the cherry on top, your hand flying to his head to keep it in place and you ground into his face.

Screaming as he entered two fingers in your pussy, you felt a tear slide down at the immense pleasure he was giving you. It had been a very long time since someone had gone down on you but never had you orgasmed from head before. Until now.

Lewis licked you clean as he climbed up and kissed you so that you could taste yourself. You could tell he wanted to say something but you reached your hand to palm him through his pants, watching the different expressions on his face. Slapping the side of your thigh, he held your face.

“Bend over for me, princess.” With a smile on his face and you knew you were going to be here a while.

-

The buzzing of the tattoo gun sounded out through the room, Lewis wiped the dripping ink from his canvas. He was doing the last bit of work to fully complete his piece on you, the ink contrasting beautifully with your skin.

Finally switching it off and clearing his station to prepare for the clean up and to place the plastic cover on, he lightly smacked your ass to wake you up. “Darling, we’re finally done.” Lewis softly said, already focused on the clean up.

You hummed, “That’s amazing, baby. Thank you.” You spoke all drowsy from the nap you took earlier and the buzzing feeling of your body even after the tattooing gun isn’t touching your skin. Not to mention the sativa joint you smoked together before the final session.

You and Lewis kept this arrangement going, him saying that once he finished his artwork on your back, he’d take you on a date to wherever you want to go and you agreed. The mutual crush you had on each other transcended to a different level, becoming almost domestic every moment you spent together.

“Can I see it?” You asked, rising up from the chair and you looked at him while batting your eyelashes. “Of course you can, princess.” Lewis leaned down to peck your lips then led you to the mirror. You gasped when you saw your dream tattoo, sitting perfectly on your back and your mind was running wild with thoughts already.

“The backshots with this tattoo are going to be amazing.” You giggled and he just rolled his eyes. “Okay that’s enough weed for you, baby.” Lewis chuckled then lightly tapped your ass.

“You were thinking it though!”

saint’s notes 🪩: mind you this has been sitting here since feb 🧍🏽‍♀️. this is dedicated to @mauvecherie-writes , thank you for your patience fren 🤭 and yes the monaco fit made me go feral.

[revasserium]

Hewwo Rain! May I request "Close your eyes with Sasuke?" Ty bby!

reqs are open! :)

98. close your eyes

sasuke; 871 words; fluff and reflection u__u bc sasuke needs and deserves both those things

it has always been more difficult to see with eyes like his.

some people call it a blessing, but many more call it a curse — once, when he was still young enough to wonder, he’d wondered why sharingans always burn red. red like blood, like lust, like fire and rust and —

like that tainted moon had shone, huge and bright and unrelenting, on the night his brother shattered everything he’d ever known.

“hey… whatcha thinkin’ there?”

“hm?” sasuke looks up, his gaze falls on you.

you motion to his head with a knowing smile, the steam rising from both your ramen bowls. he looks down, and back up again, wondering if you really are wondering.

“i… nothing.”

“y’know… you’ve never been a good liar. even when we were kids.”

he stiffens, and then, he softens back into his seat with a helpless laugh, a thing that’s more breath than laughter, but still… you’ve been calling it a work in progress. his body relearning the meaning of joy, the weight and shape of laughter as it settles on his tongue. like a muscle that’s atrophied, you’d said, like a limb weak from disuse.

“you say that like it’s a bad thing.”

you smile at him, brilliantly.

“it’s not! it makes life much easier for me.”

he leans down to take a large slurp of ramen, letting the hot broth work it’s way down his throat, blossoming in buds of warmth down the center of his chest till it takes root in the base of his stomach. it sends tingles cascading through all his limbs, makes his toes curl in his sandals, the skin beneath his lashes catch in color as he feels the heat beneath his skin.

you are still watching him, and sometimes he wonders what you see, with those sharp eyes of yours. you’d always been good at watching, at seeing, at understanding what you saw. much better than he’d ever been.

“i was thinking… about why the sharingan is always red.”

you blink at his answer,

“oh…”

“i… used to wonder, as a kid.”

“what made you stop? wondering… that is.”

he looks back down at his bowl, at the slices of pork belly and revolving narutomaki’s.

he allows himself a smile.

“i figured… if that answer was meant to be mine, it’ll find me some day. all the things that i’ve ever really… needed… have found me eventually… no matter how hard i tried to run away.”

he feels the weight of your eyes shift from his face to the empty sleeve where his left arm should be and he shakes his head.

“ah… sorry. forget it.”

later that night, when you’re both back home and the lights are off, you turn to face him in bed, admiring how the moonlight sets an almost unearthly glow to his face, how it seeps into his skin like milk.

“sasuke?”

“hm?”

he opens his eyes; they spin like twin pools of blood in the dark.

you smile.

“i think… the sharingan is red because… that’s the color of love.”

he frowns, but he doesn’t interrupt you.

“because… love comes in so many forms — in lust, and greed, and passion… and hatred too. that’s a kind of love as well… you have to love someone enough to hate them. otherwise… you just wouldn’t care, right?”

sasuke shifts closer, his hair an inkstain on the pillows around you.

“i think… i like that.”

“good. because that’s what im choosing to believe.”

he grins, soft and steady, and then, he reaches our his hand to trail a finger along your cheek.

“see? the answer came to me, didn’t it?”

you crinkle your nose.

“yeah, because you asked at dinner!”

“i’ve been asking for a very long time… this is the first time the answer has come… and i’m glad it came from you.”

he presses his forehead to yours and you feel his lashes flutter against your cheek.

beneath the covers, you feel him reach for you, his grip still a bit too tight, almost as if he’s unsure of your existence, that he’s grounding your realness in his touch, and his touch alone. you reach down to lace your fingers with his, smiling as you meet his eyes, your noses nearly brushing.

“i’m not going anywhere… i promise.”

“and i’m not either… promise.”

you grin at his answer, reaching up your free hand to brush at his eyelids.

“good. then close your eyes… and let’s get some sleep, hm?”

he closes his eyes, and you watch as his body relaxes into the mattress. you wonder what he dreams of — if he spends his sleeping hours wandering the recesses of his memory, chasing down answers to questions he’d never been brave enough to ask out loud.

you wonder if he ever dreams of the future, of one that’s filled with more questions and answers, but also the promise that you’ll find them together.

and, from the way he pulls you closer, murmurs goodnight against your cheek, that he probably does.

[starry-eyes-love]

Ch 5 Teaser: Woodland Fun

Teaser Warnings: Post Outbreak- 18+, Minors DNI. Smut, male masturbation (Joel thinking about f!reader), language, body descriptions (but non-specific), no mention of y/n.

The more Joel sat there thinking about you: the curve of your ass, the shape of your breasts, the feel of your mouth against his when he briefly kissed you; the harder he got. All of these thoughts set a fire in his veins and sent a bolt of electricity to his cock. With a sigh, he said, "Just once, just this once I’m gonna do this to blow off some steam thinkin’ about her." As Joel took out his aching and throbbing member he saw that he was already leaking precum from his slit. "Fuck" he groaned to himself on how worked up he already was with only just thinking about you. He hadn't even touched himself yet. "This ain't gonna last long," he said with a small shake of his head. 

Joel needed to let off some steam, to give in to this urge in his mind to fuck you the way he needed to. Just this once, he thought, just this once I get her the way I need her.  He slowly took himself in his hand he felt him throb painfully. To try to curb his arousal, to last only longer than a few pumps, he gently squeezed the base of his cock to try to help settle his nerves. As he did, he let out a long groan, as he felt himself pulse within his hand. After a moment to settle himself, he spit into his hand and then he slowly started running his hand up and down his shaft. From the base of his cock all the way to the top of his deep, redden swollen tip. As soon as he ran his thumb over the head of his cock he heard himself hiss at the sensation. “Fuck man, you gotta get it under control or you ain't gonna last long,” he said out loud slowly stroking himself. After a few more pumps he reached down with his other hand and gently cupped and massaged his balls the way he liked it, envisioning it was you doing it to him. 

As he cupped himself he continued to fantasize about you, about your mouth, your hand, and your quivering little hole. As he continued to fantasize he felt himself start to throb harder. Fuck, he thought to himself. I need you so bad baby, need that pussy. Yeah, baby girl, give it t'me, just like that he continued to think as his hand sped up faster and faster. Pretty soon he was thrusting hard up into his hand, chasing his high, thinking about all the ways he wanted to fuck you in his bed at night. He was almost there, right on the edge, just a few more pumps away from his release when...

...more coming soon.

A/N: Full release will be coming out before the end of October. If you want to be added to my taglist (and are not already), please let me know in the comments.

Remember, taglists will not be added to chapter teasers (just full released chapters). Make sure to follow and turn on page notifications to get notified when teasers are added.

[therosebunpost]

BodyHarness Class

—————

Sunny, Bunny and Batty go out on a interesting date

CW: Allusions to smut at the end, descriptions of sharp craft tools

——

“Where did you even hear about this??” Steve mutters, eyeing the door. His pace lagging as he peered into the dark corners of the tucked away venue.

'My friend! She told me someone was hosting a class like this and it sounds so fun!'

“Sure, fun is a way to put it.”

“Come onnn, Harrington! Hey, if it makes you get into it, I’ll wear mine without a shirt~!”

Heat crawled up Steve’s neck and bloomed onto his cheeks. Avoiding Eddie’s triumphant smirk, he forced a roll of his eyes. He nearly dies when you offer to let him help you with yours too, your smile just as mischievous. His pace picked up as steam poured out of his ears.

"Okay everybody! So, we weren't expecting such a large turn out…"

The small room was fit to bursting with chairs and a few tables. Two people stood in front, a man and a woman. "So! Just bare with us as we figure out what to do. If you want to participate, please see me while my lovely girlfriend prepares her materials, money and IDs in hand!”

You tug the both of them over to a set of chairs near the front. You set up shop by pulling a few chairs into a circle. Eddie grabs out the IDs and the money, Steve tucks the bags out of the way.

Eddie and the man made easy conversation as money exchanged hands. Steve finds himself wandering around, looking at the supplies. Some weird spikey tool, pliers, chains, elastic. Most of it was black and steel, with few gold and bejeweled pieces. This was absolutely a marriage between you and Eddie. If he wasn't so excited about seeing the final results on the both of you, he'd feel excluded.

"Okay! So, everyone ready?"

The room chimed in with cheers and the lesson starts. The idea was simple, create a body harness on your partner using the elastic and the rest of the supplies.

“And if you're alone, well, you might want to turn to your neighbor and get to know each other real quickly.” The man chimes in, grinning in a way that reminded Steve a lot of Eddie.

Eddie snickers, stretching his arms out wide like the man had done during the demonstration. “What were you thinkin’ babe?” He coos while you observe him. You drag your fingers along his chest, mapping out the design while Eddie does his best not to wiggle.

“Oh, a pentagram? Sweet girl, are you trying to get people to think I’m more of a devil then I already am?” Eddie’s beaming though, standing straighter. “But I suppose. Who am I to get in the way of such artistic expression?”

You wave Steve over while you laugh. You ask him to hold things while you start the pentagram. Not that he minds, he loves watching you work.

“So, you think you might want one, Sunny?” Eddie asks after a moment, struggling to maintain a straight posture. “Fuck, I think you wearing a pentagram would kill me.” He adds, and Steve becomes tense.

But, your friend must know this was a date, because it’s clear just where she sent you. All manner of people were paired up, many of them couples. In fact, right next to the three of you, were two guys trying to figure out how to work the hole punch. One of them in a T-Pose like Eddie while the other fiddled with the contraption.

“Come on man, it has to go that way or else it won’t punch right-“

“I’ll punch you right~”

“Pft- Thats- That was so stupid-“

Steve looks away, shoulders lax. He leans, breath ghosting along Eddie’s ear. “Do you want to see me in a harness?” He smirks as Eddie nods so hard it jostles your hands and you snip the wrong strap. You pouted up at the two of them, huffing out of your nose and stomping.

Steve giggles as he leans even more into Eddie. The metalhead joins him with a snort. “Sorry, sorry! This one is being a menace, whispering unholy things in my poor innocent ear.”

“I just asked if you wanted to see me in a harness!”

“Right, like you didn’t lean in close on purpose, distracting me from my responsibilities!”

You wave your hands at them, exasperated while a smile curls up at the corner of your lips.

‘I’m almost done, can you guys wait to flirt until I’m finished with the scissors? I could accidentally cut something.’

“Right, like Bats’ hair.”

Eddie gasps, gathering his precious locks close. “How dare you.”

With a shake of his head, he hides a grin behind his hand with a snicker. “I’m just saying.”

‘I’m not going to cut your hair, Batty! Sunny, please!’

Steve finally feels some remorse. Just a bit. You were really excited to do this, and if they were going to finish in time, they needed to get a move on.

“It looks really good so far, Buns.” He smiles, stepping close and kissing your temple. “I can’t wait to see what you look like..” He smirks, absolutely delighted at the way you blue screen.

“See? See! Told you!” Eddie cuts in, flailing a finger at a grinning Steve.

After another round of scolding, which wasn’t effective since both men adored how flustered you were, you finally finished Eddie’s harness. It’s definitely a statement piece. Black elastic stretching across his chest, silver washers connecting all the lines and adding some shine. Eddie stands proudly, puffing his chest and gazing at you two. “So, whatcha think?”

Steve meets your eyes briefly, and in that moment he knows you’re on the same wavelength.

‘Looks really good, Batty.’ You sign slowly, gaze trailing the lines you made across his body. Steve’s heart thumped as he clears his throat. “Yeah, it’s uh…it’s very you. It’s good.”

"Just....good?" Eddie prompts, a wicked gleam in his eyes as he steps closer. "Thats all you can say?" He's all up in Steve's space in a way that made his pulse jump. "It's- fuck, you look hot. Okay? Is that what you wanna hear?"

Eddie's eyes were bright. "Mm~ Took you long enough, what, you getting shy on us?"

Jumping onto the bandwagon, you slide up to Eddie's side. Your own smirk plays on your lips as you tilt your head at Steve in question. Betrayed, Steve scoffs and hurries over to the table instead.

"I- What happened to getting these done, huh? Tick Tock, clocks running out! Games nearly over." Taking the first thing that catches his eye, he hands over a bunch of chains. "Here, what about this? For something on yours, Bunny?”

With a roll of your eyes at his deflection, you take the chains and look them over. He expects you to reject it, but then there's that spark in your eyes that Steve loved to see. That excited smile lighting up the room while you grab the pliers and chain cutters. Gesturing for your boys to come closer, you thank Steve for the supplies with a kiss.

Now that it’s your turn, you start drawing out the design with a finger along your curves. Steve doesn't see it yet, but Eddie can. His chocolate eyes grow dark, voice dipping into that low growl. "Jesus, you tryin' to murder us, Sweetheart?" He leans in close and you're quick to curl into him. Mischief and mirth flowing through you while he teases you.

"Whats the design?" Steve asked, still not getting it. You beam up at him, pressing a finger to your lips. 'Secret' You sign. He was still learning, but finger spelling was starting to catch on in his brain.

"She's getting payback for earlier." Eddie chimes in, snickering as he grabs some pliers and Jump rings. "Alright Sunny, mind holding these chains in place for me?"

"Not at all." Steve grins, reaching out and holding the chain along your chest, mesmerized by you. God, was he glad you opted for something body hugging today.

You’re peering up at him from beneath your lashes with a shy smile. It’s still new, getting to be with you like this. Getting to be close, to feel your body. The look of the harness was nice, but frankly, he wouldn’t like it half as much if it wasn't on you two. If it didn’t interest you two so much.

“Gonna look so good, honey.” Steve murmurs, brushing a knuckle against your cheek before you bashfully tuck yourself into his arms. The tip of your nose brushing along his throat.

There’s huff beside you two, and Steve turns to see Eddie with a barely hidden pout. “Come on you two, you heard the coach, we gotta hurry.” With a wry smile, he turned to measure some chains.

It’s in that moment, while Steve watches Eddie’s back, that he forgets where they are. He reaches out, tugging Eddie close by the chain on his pants. “What is it-“ Tilting his head, Steve plants a kiss on him. Cupping his jaw, Eddie hums into it, shoulders sagging as he bows into Steve. It was short, sweet and enough to have the metalhead smiling again, even if he blinks at Steve a couple times.

“You just look really cool with tools.” Steve admits, breathless and warm. Eddie snickers, brows wiggling. “Well, there’s a few tools that I’d love to get my hands on.”

When the giggles subside in your little group, the boys finally get their hands back on you to finish your harness. The mixture of elastic and metal creates quite a sight, hugging your figure and adding shine. You even created a chain shrug, looping around your wrists loosely and resting over your arms decoratively.

Taking a step back to admire you and Eddie, Steve was glad he was wearing baggier pants because he was in trouble.

“Sweetheart, christ-“ Eddie breathes as his fingers graze along the clinking chains. Seeing you wearing a marriage of your styles, it was right out of a fantasy.

“Alright everyone, we got twenty minutes before the lesson is supposed to be over! Make sure you make your final items now!”

“Oh shit- Well you heard ‘em Stevie, think you’re up for it?”

Biting his lip, Steve hesitates. It wasn’t his style, but if you made it work for you, then why not for him? After all, it’d be more of a present for you and Eddie. He slowly spreads out his arms. “Sure, I think I’m up for it.”

You jump in place, your chains jingling before you go racing to grab the last of the supplies. Eddie stays behind, his grin big and goofy. “Didn’t think I’d ever see the day, Steve Harrington..” He breathes, his gaze lingers along his chest before trailing back up to his eyes.

“Oh, but you thought about it? About me, wearing something like this?”

“Ever since you came to our trailer dressed as Hercules, big boy.”

You come flying in, arms full with supplies. Steve notes the elastic you picked out for him, a warm sunshine yellow and warm brown. You’ve also opted for gold and bronze hardware instead of silver.

You and Eddie could be on the same page incredibly quickly. With a glance and the vague gesture of your hand over your chest, Eddie nodded before passing over a roll of brown elastic.

Your deft hands are gentle as you wrap the elastic around his waist first, soon walking behind him to snap the band in place. Steve feels a warmth against his back as you press close, soon nuzzling between his shoulder blades. Fuck, you were so cute.

Though he’s soon distracted by the touch of Eddie, mapping out straps along his shoulders. “How do you guys come up with this stuff so quickly?” Steve murmurs, eyes trained on the way Eddie’s rings glimmer in the light. That concentrated gaze was finally on him, and now Steve envied every figure that was in his place before him.

“Well, I showed you that mag, right?” Eddie mutters, the tip of his tongue sticking out as he fiddles with a grommet. “Yeah, but like, how can you just recreate them?” Steve pressed, swallowing as he remembered the abundance of magazines that Eddie showed him on the way there. More so pushed in his face while Steve tried to maintain a hold on the wheel.

“It’s just a bunch of lines. Having someone to work off of helps.” Eddie explains with a grin, now bringing the pliers closer. With them being so close to his nipple, Steve tries to stay still. Even if your hands started to wander, running along his sides, back and front.

“Havin’ fun back there, Bunny?” Steve chirps after a moment, his grin broad as you tense, and huff, caught. Eddie snickers, placing the pliers down beside him. “Be a little nicer to her, Sunshine. She’s got a model under her hands, can you blame her?”

Between you giving him a squeezing hug from behind and Eddie’s soft gaze, it’s a wonder Steve stayed upright. The urge to kiss you both brims from every fiber of his being, but there’s no way he’d be satisfied with something chaste. He shifts, caught between wanting to let you finish and dragging you both home.

“Aww, patience Sunshine, we’re almost done.” Eddie promises with a coo, soft and silky as he fastens the second strap into place over his shoulder. You quickly go back to work as well, wrapping another elastic around his chest, specifically under his pecks. Pushing them up a bit, which catches Eddie’s gaze. He swallows, cheeks tinged with pink as he adds a piece of elastic to connect the pieces together in the front.

“Five minutes!”

“Oh thank fuck, y’got everything secure back there Sweetheart?” Eddie rasps, leaning over Steve’s shoulder purposefully. Steve gasps at the hardness poking him in the thigh.

“Perfect, come on Buns, let's take a look.”

Searching your faces, Steve isn’t sure what he sees. Maybe shock? Disbelief? He glances down at the harness. Was it not what they expected? He opens his mouth to say something, but you’re already grabbing his hand and pulling him out of the building with Eddie in tow. He gives a dramatic wave goodbye before the door closes with a thump.

“Hey, what-“ Steve stutters out, panic in his throat. “What’s wrong, is everything okay-“

When you get to the Beemer, you literally crash onto it. Tugging him by the straps of his harness, your kiss is hungry. Steve only takes a second to register before he arches into you, hands resting on your hips and dragging up to feel the cool, metal texture of your harness.

Suddenly there’s a weight on his back, heavy breathing in his ear as Eddie grinds against him. “Fuckin’ Christ-“ Eddie groans into his neck, hands digging into Steve’s hips. “You’re both so hot, was gonna die in there if we stayed another minute.”

Pulling back from Steve, you arch forward to press a heated kiss to Eddie as well. The slick sounds of your kissing makes the former jock buck into you. A groan heavy in his chest as you hook your leg around his hip and Eddie grinds harder.

“It..it looks that good?” Steve mumbles as Eddie kisses along his throat. You kiss at his collarbone, tugging his shirt down to get more of his skin in your mouth. Your teeth scrapping and lips sucking until pink blooms across his skin.

“So Fuckin’ good Sunshine, are you kidding me?” Eddie rasps and you nod. You rub at his sides, thumbs looping into his belt loops to tug him even closer. Fuck, you were soaked.

“You wanna see? See how good you look for us?” Eddie growls, guiding Steve to look in the side mirrors of his beemer. He had to squint, given the size and dimness of the parking lot, but…he looked good. The two toned elastic fit well along his chest, even with his shirt in the way.

“I think,” Eddie breathes after a moment, kissing a line along the back of Steve’s neck after he crowded him against the car again, “We should go home and try these on the way they were actually intended for, hmm?” He slides his hand up Steve’s shirt, rings chill against his skin. Your nails dig into his shoulders as you nod, your eyes glassy and full of need.

“Fuck- Yeah, come on.”

As you all pile into his Beemer, Steve scrawls a note into his notepad before he drives.

‘Thank Bunny’s friend, ASAP.’

—————

——

—-

[legitelizabethwwefan]

College House Party AU - Phoenix x General Reader

A/N: I’ve been working on this imagine off and on, and it’s finally done! I like writing imagines with a college AU as the backdrop. This one is different from the others I’ve done so far, but that’s what made it more fun. Hope you guys like it!

If you want to request anything, you can do so here.

Word count: 1306

No warnings.

You sighed loudly as loud dance music pounded throughout the cramped house. The last thing you had expected was to find yourself here on a Friday night. Yet here you were, taking in the house party going on around you.

You had tagged along with some acquaintances from class, as they had been looking to blow off steam after a stressful week of school. You had agreed to come in the heat of the moment just so you could hang out and hopefully make friends. But as you wandered about the house, you felt so out of place. People were dancing all over each other in the living room, grinding all over one another without a care in the world. The room had felt so hot and uncomfortable that you had hightailed it out of there within seconds of entering.

The kitchen and dining area was home the home to beer pong and flip cup. The people who you had come to the party with were so absorbed playing the drinking games that they had forgotten all about you. You got the hell out of there too, not wanting to drink around a bunch of strangers. The idea of getting wasted in front of people you didn’t even know was anything but appealing.

The basement would’ve been your next spot to go, but that was quickly ruled out. You had managed to overhear from one of your classmates that people were smoking marijuana there to avoid stinking up the entire house. While you had no issues with weed, you didn’t want to get around strangers either.

You sighed as you tried to figure out what to you. Your classmates were ignoring you and every room to go to had more cons than pros. You began to feel as though you had made a mistake by coming here tonight.

Needing an escape, you headed upstairs to the bathroom for some relief. You lucked out by managing to not have to wait for anyone prior to entering. Once the door shut behind you, you took a few deep breaths to steady your rapid heartbeat. Being somewhere so out of your element had left you shaky and unable to think straight.

After a few minutes, you forced yourself to leave the bathroom. You didn’t want to face an angry line-up of drunk college students. Luckily, no one was waiting to use the washroom when you left.

You sauntered away to a hallway that connected several bedrooms. The doors were closed to all of them, so you didn’t dare open any of them. You didn’t want to accidentally walk in on anyone fooling around, but you also weren’t too keen on going back downstairs.

“You okay there?”

You jumped upon hearing a young man speaking in a deep British accent. He approached you from seemingly out of nowhere in the dark hallway. It was hard to make out what he looked like due to the lack of light, but you could tell that he was taller than you.

“Uh...yeah, I’m fine,” you lied. “I’m not drunk, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“I didn’t think so. But you seem upset.”

You baulked at the idea of telling the truth. “It’s...nothing. Really, I’m fine.”

“Sorry, I should’ve introduced myself. I’m Jamie.”

“Y/N.”

You shook hands with Jamie, nothing how firm yet reassuring the handshake felt. You felt yourself calm down a little at his touch.

“What brought you here tonight?” Jamie asked.

“I came with a few acquaintances,” you explained. You paused to smirk. “They’re busy playing beer pong right now, but I wasn’t interested in joining them.”

“Yeah, I’m not into that kinda stuff,” Jamie revealed with a chuckle. “Wanna come into my room to chat?”

Your whole body stiffened at his suggestion.

“I’m not trying to do anything, I promise,” he added quickly. “I was just thinkin’ of getting away from downstairs.”

“Wait- you live here?”

“Yeah, I live here with three other guys. I didn’t really want them to throw this party, but here we are.”

You relaxed again and nodded. “Alright, I’ll go with you.”

Jamie led you to his bedroom, which was larger than you expected. Your bedroom in your apartment was basically a shoebox when it came to size.

You quickly focused back on Jamie when he turned on the bedroom light. You blinked for a minute to get used to the change before finally looking at Jamie.

You blushed at the sight of him. His dark skin and hair were complemented by warm brown eyes. He had dyed the tips of his hair orange, which look better than you had expected. He wore black pants and an orange T-shirt that looked a little wrinkled. Still, he looked nice and his smile was inviting.

“You’re handsome,” you blurted without thinking.

Jamie’s laugh was warm. “Thanks...Y/N, was it? Sorry, I’m bad with names.”

“You’re correct. And it’s okay, it’s no big deal,” you said with a shrug.

Jamie seemed to hesitate, but shook it off. “You’re pretty cute.”

You blushed at the unexpected compliment. “Oh...thanks.”

“Sorry, I wasn’t tryin’ to upset you,” he began.

“No, it’s...it’s fine,” you cut in. “I’m just on edge ‘cause this parties aren’t really my thing, you know?”

Jamie nodded. “Yeah, I totally get it. We can just hang out here, if you want.”

“Ah...sure,” you replied.

The two of you began to chat about various things. You learned that Jamie was a foreign exchange student from the United Kingdom, studying Theatre Arts. He had decided to study at your college because he always wanted to visit the United States. He also loved the campus atmosphere and the program itself. You told him about your major and that you were enjoying college for the most part.

During your chat, you realized that both of you had more in common than you had expected. You both loved watching movies (especially action flicks), boy bands and curry. Your previous nerves slowly faded away the longer the conversation drew out. You found yourself genuinely smiling at Jamie as you continued talking about yourself. Jamie was doing the same as he spoke, as well as when he listened to you. He hung onto every word you said with curiosity. Before either of you knew it, you two had been talking for a couple of hours.

“I bet you must be homesick,” you remarked at one point.

“A little, but it’s okay,” Jamie confessed. “It’s worth it, though. I’d be crazy to not wanna come here.”

“Fair enough,” you said.

Jamie suddenly grew quiet for the first time since meeting. His dark brown eyes darted to the ground in a shy manner.

“What’s wrong? Did I say something?” you asked.

“No, it’s just...” Jamie slowly looked back at you. “I really like chatting with you, Y/N. You seem really cool. Would you like to go out for coffee sometime?”

Your face lit up. “I’d like that a lot. When do you want to get together?”

Jamie sighed with relief, causing you to giggle. He laughed as well at how nervous he had been to ask you out. “Are you free this Sunday morning?”

“I am,” you said happily. “Let’s do nine AM?”

“I like the sound of that,” Jamie replied.

The two of you exchanged phone numbers just as one of your acquaintances texted you to tell you that they were getting ready to leave the party.

“It was nice to meet you, Y/N,” Jamie said as he led you to the front door of the house.

“Same to you,” you responded with a content smile. “I’ll see you Sunday morning.”

“I look forward to it,” Jamie remarked with a flirty wink.

You blushed before following your group outside to begin walking home.

Perhaps going to that stupid house party had been a good decision after all.

[notmuchtoconceal]

( o ) goodimpressionofmyself

nah, we’re not together or anythin like that, he’s just a friend, bro. he’s a butcher, and a damn good one. get all my meat from him now, it’s quality shit. you should see him with a knife when he gets to choppin, bro, it’s downright mesmerizin. i could watch him for hours, just lay back and watch the steak, the liver, whatever he’s got fall apart into nice even cuts, listenin to the knife hit the block

he hung me up, bro. yeah. yeah. in the freezer, with all the other meat. there were chains around my wrists, slung around this hook on the ceilin. nah, none a that leatherface shit, bro, he cares about me. cares about my safety. i know he seems a lil weird, but he’s a nice guy. smart, too. real good with words. sorta relaxes me when he starts talkin, you know? but yeah, the chains were in my mouth, too, and over my eyes. i was sittin there in the dark, for six hours, shiverin my ass off, tastin the cold steel. every once in awhile, he’d come in with a pot a hot water, throw it on me to sorta shock my nerves and laugh

nah, wasn’t boilin or nuthin, more like a hot shower that’s a lil too hot. it’s nice at first. warm. then it gets to dryin. my nips were rock fuckin hard, bro. i could hear the steam pourin off me, like it was sizzlin. like a wooshy kinda sizzlin, like a gas stove, you know? then it got colder. colder than it was before. so, you know, naturally to keep me warm, he’d need to keep doin it, but, ya see, this’s where it gets tricky, cause eventually, you know, he wouldn’t do it as much. he’d start slippin a straw in through the chains in my mouth, tellin me to suck. at first, i thought, hey this is great, i mean, i hadn’t had a drink in what seemed like hours. then he kept doin it. kept makin me drink. after awhile, you know, i had to take a piss real fuckin bad, and it was so fuckin cold, i’d almost be dancin there, chained up while he watched me flex, listenin to me beg and moan all helpless, cause i was, haha

well, that pan a hot water. he set it down between my legs. empty, a course, he hadn’t gotten more in awhile, haha. aw, bro. you can see where this’s goin, right? yeah. yeah, i see the gears startin to turn in your head, bro. this whole time the only thing i’m wearin’s my jock, same one i wore here, i just came from practice, and i’m so turned on, i’m beadin through the mesh with pre, like bro. the whole pouch was soaked. i could feel it dribblin down my leg, felt like i had puddin on my dick, it was gettin so thick from the cold. anyway, you know, i guess i felt pretty stupid for thinkin my strap was wet before–thighs too, come to think of it–and that empty pan, it didn’t stay empty too long after that, haha. least it was nice and warm, bro. you know, fresh from the tap, haha. hey, you think that’s bad, you remember that chain i was tellin you i was hangin by? well, get this. it had a winch and lever. couple more repetitions a this, the straw and the pot, i’m about three feet off the ground, still blind, still cold, and i’m swingin back and forth, tryin to hold it in, cause i’m thinkin ‘fuck, i miss this, what’s gonna happen? he gonna let me freeze?‘ 

haha, dude, i know it sounds sick. it sounds real fuckin sick, but he always hoses me down afterwards. meat’s gotta get clean, he says. dunno what to say, bro, i like spendin time with him. i like bein meat. i like how he fondles and punches me, just wails on me for hours while i bite down on my bit like an animal. and he’s nice to me. wraps me up in a towel afterward. massages me. talks to me. tells me i did a real good job bein just a piece a meat. he makes me feel good about it, like not just how he talks to me, but how he looks at me and touches me. then he sucks my dick and lets me suck his, haha. i can’t wait to go back there, bro. i like to hang around. sorta like bein the meat’s my natural state a bein. like i was put on this earth to get tenderized, packaged up and sold. like any animal magnetism i got’s a mistake a birth and i shoulda just been born an inanimate hunk a protein

yeah, not a lot a people get it, bro. i guess it is pretty weird when you say it out loud. not a lotta people listen to me this long, either

ya know, what’s real weird is how many people around here are into eatin brain. yeah, actual brain. pig, sheep, cows, people eat that stuff. my new bro gets orders for it all the time, and i don’t think any a his customers are zombies, haha. yeah, almost every night, bro. takes the brain, the whole brain, wrapped up in like this skin, and he peels it off. haha, i sorta like it, bro. it’s squishy, it’s interestin, and the way he touches it, well you ever hear the sound it makes when a guy kneads his fingers in meat? it’s real peaceful, bro, like the sound you’d used to get goin through styroafoam packin peanuts, really takes me back, bro. feels real good. and right before he cuts the brain, he tells me to picture all the thoughts that woulda been in it, really picture the thoughts, of what it musta been like to be a bull, or a horse, or whatever, and it’s just sooo relaxin bro, you wouldn’t believe it. it’s sorta like i’m in the brain, like the brain’s my thoughts, and when he brings the cleaver down, it all goes away

hey, you free tonight, bro? gets sorta lonely bein a piece a meat, i could always use some company. nother big guy to help me reinforce what i am. lookin at ya right now, wouldn’t be outta place in the freezer yourself. whaddya say, bro? wanna join me? how bout we two slabs a meat start hangin around together?

[sugako]

another word for home

kita x f!reader cw: minors dni, 18+ only, nsfw, domestic housewife, tw pregnancy/parent talk, tw breeding kink (like...fr), shower sex, unprotected, soft/gentle, aftercare wc: 1.2k a/n: no one look at me....ok but really though dont read this if the idea of being a cute lil housewife/kid-talk is not for you bc that's all this is <3

The bright midday sun made it feel wrong to be bathing at this time, but you were so tired and the promise of the hot water was so inviting. Kita would be home within the hour so dinner was soon and shortly after that would be bed. Most days were the same, not all, but most. At first, you had reservations about this routine-driven kind of life, but you quickly found joy in it as you found joy in loving your husband.

The steady stream of the steaming water soothed your muscles and any weary thoughts you had carried with you throughout the day, the noise drowning out the sound of the front door opening. You didn’t even hear him stepping down the hallway, too lost in your own thoughts, slowly washing yourself. Only when the door to the bathroom creaked open did you jump, half covering your soap body, barely hidden behind the thin glass screen of the small shower.

“Wastin’ water?” There was a smile in his voice and you could hear him already shucking off his clothing.

“I’m almost done, I’ll be out in a minute if you-” You start, already rinsing off and grabbing the soap to finish any unclean spots.

“No, stay.” He says simply, oblivious to the way your eyes struggle to stop from flicking down when he’s completely nude. Being married for some odd years hadn’t quelled the way your heart shuddered when you saw him at times like these. “Getting in with you.”

“Mmhm.” You hum, rushing to rinse while he scoots in beside you. Sturdy hands settle on your waist, gently moving you. The shower filled with the musky smell of dirt and sweat mixing with the floral soap he had picked out from the market last weekend. “Here,” you say softly, grabbing a soft washcloth and the soap, “let me.”

“Alright.” He relaxes into your touch, appreciating how your practiced fingers massage the knots out of his taut muscles. The water washes away the aches and grime, water shimmering across his tough skin. Reaching around his front, you hold him in a soft embrace, lightly scrubbing at his chest. “Thank you.” His hushed tone breaks you from your thoughts.

“I know you work hard.” You assure him, draping the cloth over its little hook as he turns to face you.

“So do you.” He returns while he presses a short kiss to your lips, pushing you back against the cool wall. Melting under his touch, you let him adjust your body at his will so your leg is hitched up by rough fingertips while his other hand smoothes over your chest. His pretty cock, hardened by your lingering touches, presses deeply against you sending your hips rutting against his. This isn’t part of your normal day or routine, but it feels right.

“Mmh, Sh-shinsuke…” You sigh against the top of his slicked back hair as he kisses down your chest.

“Been thinkin’ about you all day.” He mumbles into your skin, stopping to nip at your breast. “Thinkin’ about how perfect you are,” slipping a finger past your sopping entrance and lightly circling your clit, “How pretty you are. How pretty you would look with our baby. My perfect wife.”

It was impossible to tell which started first - your heart and your pussy both fluttering at his words.

“Ya want that?” Kita asks lowly, slipping his cock between your folds, just teasing the tip into you.

“I-uh, uh-huh, I want that.” Unable to form your own coherent thought, you ramble his words back to him. With a small smile, he holds your hip steady, and your arms circle tightly around the back of his neck for stability while he slowly sinks into you.

Every movement is practiced and exact. He learned your body so long ago it’s etched into his memory like all his dearest moments from this life. Holding this close, he can only shallowly thrust into you, but it’s enough to make your jaw drop open, lips parting as you pant out sweet praises to him, digging your nails into his shoulders.

Although his motions aren’t deep or fast, he fills you out so nicely you feel yourself gushing around him. His free hand that isn’t helping you stay upright, is still toying with your swollen clit bringing you closer and closer to the edge precisely in time with his thrusts.

“Want your cum.” You babble between the soft kisses he’s placing against your lips.

“Yeah, wanna be a mommy, huh? My cute little wife wants to be bred?” He gasps, feeling you tighten and contract around him.

“Uh-huh, please, please…” You chant out, bucking dumbly against his hand as he draws out the intensely building orgasm you had been holding back. It washed over you in strong waves, making you entire body twitch against his, barely standing now.

Somewhat in vain with shaking hips, he tries his best to fuck you through it all, feeling himself drawing close to his own end. The glossy, ruined look in your eyes when you finally blinked them open was the last straw. Against your spongy walls, you feel his cock twitch and before you can muster out any semblance of some coherent words he’s kissing you deeply, pulling your body flush to his while his cum fills you up.

The silence, punctuated by the sputtering showerhead, lasts for as long as you both catch your breath. When he softens, he slowly pulls out of you, forcing a little whimper from your lips at the feeling of being empty.

“Shh, shh,” he coos, “let’s finish getting cleaned up, yeah? I love you, you did so well.”

“I love you too.” You reply and nodding deftly, you let your legs relax, struggling to find footing without him supporting you. He takes his time, gently cleaning between your thighs before cleaning himself. When he snaps the shower off, you’re freezing, clinging to him in the cool dampness.

“Bath?” You ask quietly, trying to quell the way your shoulders slightly tremble, even with the towel he drapes around you.

Kita simply nods, guiding you toward it, helping you balance as you step over the edge and sink in. Following behind you, he slowly and carefully eases into the steaming water, wrapping his arms around your middle so your back is pressed against his chest.

“How do you feel?” He asks after a moment, feeling how your body relaxes and your breathing has evened out.

“Good,” you start, stopping short. But it’s too late and he catches the way your unspoken words waver in the air.

“What else?”

“I, well… do you really think I would be a good mom?” The words are tangled up in your throat and come out barely above a whisper. To distract yourself from the awkward panic in your chest, you toy with his hands.

Although you can’t see him, you feel his chest puff up a bit behind you and his chin come down to rest on your shoulder. Trying to find his own words, he pauses for a bit before speaking. “I do, if you want to be. Yer very good at what you set yer mind to.”

“Thank you, but I don’t know,” you trail off honestly, eyes trained to where his hands sit so nicely in yours. “It’s a big decision.”

“It certainly is.” He agrees, sleepily snuggling closer to you. “Just let me know when you decide.” He hums.

Deep down you know what you want, but you need time and now you’re growing tired in the soothing bath water with your husband, his hushed breaths making you drowsier by the minute.

[telaraneas]

(i change my mind, copypasting this to its own post cause it really got away from me. long post warning)

i guess what im thinkin is like, that light is the domain of “things that MUST happen, for Reasons”; mind is the domain of “things must/will happen, for REASONS”; void is the domain of, like, “things happen or don’t happen for no discernible reason, necessarily”.

thats not really a great description of it i guess but, for instance, a good example is that one time Rosesprite happened…. For No Reason. and for no reason, really i mean no narrative reason- it ended up setting off a chain of events that resolved the subplots of many minor characters, so it’s not like it’s USELESS, but there was kind of no way to predict that whole thing from a “narratively this is something that we are leading up to” standpoint, which is why roxy’s actions brought it about on accident, and why rose was so thoroughly perplexed by it the whole way through. void is probably closer to the way things happen in real life, but it is sort of the anthitesis to the way things happen in stories, where everything is deliberate and happens for A Narrative Reason… but homestuck was always largely written on the fly at least in the smaller scale things, so this sort of thing just Happens lol

incidentally im pretty sure a mind player like terezi could have technically predicted that, if she had for any reason at all been previously informed of all the moving parts of that whole thing and TRYING to predict what the fuck jaspersprite was gonna do, because it IS perfectly logical in hindsight, but like… that’s the whole thing, why the fuck WOULD you be trying to look into that or predict it????? there was seemingly no narrative reason for any of that to be relevant! and that’s kind of what void is about i think!

on a similar note i thing breath is more along the lines of just…. Things Happen. similarly to void, it’s not about trying to discern WHAT will happen or WHY, but unlike void, the things that DO happen under the influence of breath ARE kind of things that the narrative called for. breath seems to be kind of the aspect dominating narrative contrivance

people often confuse contrivance with plot holes, but from what i understand they’re very different. a plot hole is when something happens, and it makes no sense for it to happen to the degree it breaks with previously established known facts, and it’s just never explained.

a plot contrivance doesn’t really contradict anything, necessarily, it’s just… like… there’s no reason for it to NOT happen the way it does, but there’s also no reason for it TO happen the way it does, and overall the reason it’s considered bad writing is because it tends to come across as lazy. oh, the heroes JUST SO HAPPENED to find the one magic sword that can defeat the bad guy, just laying on the side of the road. how convenient!

…incidentally, john’s entire story arc seems to be built entirely around moments like these skfnkenfke

i think it was smart writing to codify this as 1. the influence of an actual cosmic force that DOES operate on those principles, and 2. make john have to figure out how to get a handle on things by himself, even if the tools and circumstances just happened to be aligned in his favor by everything else in the story. john still has to be the one to turn HIMSELF into a deus ex machina, on-screen, to fix everything. it gives the story a good narrative and emotionally resonant reason to just contrive the hell out of everything john does and goes through, while STILL delivering on his arc as a hero’s journey

(i also think it’s really funny that the ring, which gets LITERALLY deus ex machina’d into the story via the author himself, is CONVENIENTLY found by tavros, and john CONVENIENTLY ends up with it in the story itself sjfnskdn true breath shenanigans, and incredibly fitting that vriska rejected it and played no part in it because there was no previously known indication that the ring would be important in any way until the two breath players started playing hot potato with it)

i’m still not sure if i have a good grasp on what exactly time does, because we have seen very different attitudes taken towards it by various different players AND the official description, and it’s hard to tell what, in each regard, comes from time as an aspect, from the classes of the characters, or from the characters themselves/both things; but for now i think my best guess is that time is kind of “things already happened, this is inmutable, let’s just cut to the chase”, more or less. like, the way this differs from light is that light still thinks of things more or less linearly, even when they UNDERSTAND this is not the case, whereas time tends to just not even concieve of things has “something that is happening”

like, example, vriska vs aradia; they both kind of enabled Big Bad Things that they already knew would happen via timeline shenanigans- but from what i recall, i don’t think aradia ever PERSONALLY set any of those events in motion, she simply didn’t correct any misunderstandings and thus allowed the wheels of time to turn smoothly; whereas vriska went “bec noir Will Happen = someone will make it happen anyways = i’m gonna make it happen myself, cause someone has to, and it might as well be me!!!” because of her compulsion to be the master of her own fate

aradia didnt so much see her actions as her *doing* anything, evil or good; she was pretty much just making sure things ended up where they were already going to end up/had already ended up, devoid of motivation or reason. similar to dave in the first five acts, just opening and closing loops Because He’s Gotta until he eventually runs out of steam and loops to close, because he really never had any motivations for doing what he was doing other than Well, I Already Did Them, So Obviously I Have To Do Them So I Can Have Already Done Them. no intent or motivation inherent to the actions themselves for half the story

a more childish example is caliborn getting fed up with the story and the Interpersonal Problems of the players and being like “fuck this, just skip to the good parts, they’re Going to happen so why do we have to sit through all of this shit!”. obv contrast to calliope, who seems to illustrate the kind of reader who would rather explore the status quo forever and imagine all the character interactions possible, playing in the *space* of the work in between the big status quo shifts and dreading said shifts, where caliborn wants to skip right past the status quo and have a story composed of nothing BUT the big shifts, the start and end of things

(neither of these are a sustainable way to tell a story, which is why you need at least a space and a time player)

[jayeray-hq]

hello!! i loved how you wrote osamu and i was wondering if it'd be okay to request atsumu for 'how he shows you affection'? thank you so much <3

Of course you can! Honestly it seems fitting my first two requests were for the Miya twins! I even had it mostly written already because I was half writing this one as I wrote Osamu’s just to ensure they were different! 😊💖

How He Shows You Affection: Miya Atsumu

Timeskip/Manga Spoilers

Warnings: very, very slight implied NSFW (so minor you might not even notice honestly)

How He Shows You Affection Masterlist - Character Masterlist

He Tugs/Ruffles Your Hair

           You jerked in surprise at the sudden tug on a lock of your hair, not hard enough to be painful, but enough to catch your attention, pulling your attention away from your laptop and your current project. You glanced up to see your boyfriend Miya Atsumu peering at you from across the table an amused smile on his face and a playful light in his eyes.

“What’s got ya thinkin’ so hard there?” he asked teasingly, his cheek in his palm and elbow braced on the table as he watched you a fond light in his eyes, “Ya almost look like steam is about ta come outta yer ears.”

             “Just something I need to get done for work,” you admitted with a sigh, unable to help the slight frown on your face as your mind went over everything you’d need to get done, though you were abruptly pulled out of that as he gently tugged your hair again, diverting your attention back to him.

             “Looks like it’s stressin’ ya out,” he pointed out, twirling the strand he still held between his fingers. It was a habit of his to play with whatever he was holding in his hands, and your hair happened to be a frequent victim of this behavior. He didn’t seem to be able to resist, whenever he was in the vicinity he had to be touching your hair.

 Osamu had once sarcastically told you it was because his brother had never quite gotten over pulling the pigtails of the girls he liked. It had made you laugh at the time, even as it provoked another fight between the twins about who was supposedly more mature.

 Still you thought there might’ve actually been some truth in it, because you’d slowly realized he never actually did it to anyone but you. Playfully tugging it or messing with it, and laughing if you pouted or scolded him. Both of you knew you couldn’t stay mad at him for it, especially when he almost always follows it up with a loud smacking kiss to your forehead or cheek.

 Admittedly he pulled Osamu’s hair too, but considering he was trying to yank it out by the roots you didn’t think that counted, though there had been some unfortunate painful incidents on your end as well. Luckily long practice meant he no longer had any accidents involving tugging or tangling it up into knots, and you no longer jolted when he did it and inadvertently yanked it painfully in the process.

 Another gentle tug pulled you out of your thoughts, and refocused your attention on your boyfriend who was pouting slightly at you, though you knew if you pointed it out he’d deny it vehemently. He was a grown man after all and he definitely didn’t pout like a child.

 “Yeah Tsumu?” you asked, unable to help the swell of affection as you looked at him.

 “Ya were spacin’ out on me,” he informed you, clear concern in his eyes, “This thing a yers is really doin’ a number on ya.”

             “Yeah,” you admitted with a wry smile, “just a bit.”

             “Thought so,” he told you with a self-important nod, “Somethin’ had ta be weighin’ on ya fer ya to not notice this handsome face right in front of ya.”

             “Uh-huh sure,” you told him unable to keep the amusement from your voice despite the intended sarcasm of the words, something he clearly noted if the pleased spark in his eyes was any indication.

             “How long have ya been workin’ on it anyway?” he asked deftly changing the subject.

             “A few hours maybe?” you told him glancing hesitantly at your phone trying to remember when you’d started, “a while anyway.”

             “Then why don’t ya take a break fer a bit, come out an’ we can go bug Samu at his restaurant for a bit together huh?” he proposed with a devious grin.

             “You really should leave your brother alone,” you told him unable to help your amusement.

             “Nah, Samu’s used to it, besides as the older brother it’s my job to check in on him regularly,” he assured you faux piously, then wheedled, “Come on princess it’ll be fun.”

             “Fine,” you agreed with a sigh, “You’re right I could use a break.”

             “That’s the spirit!” he encouraged, bounding out of his seat and ruffling his hand through your hair before heading for the door, “Let’s get going then!”

             You heaved a sigh, a helpless smile on your lips as you stood, attempting to straighten your hair as you went. He really was too much sometimes.

  He’s Always Touching You

             “Tsumu you’re making this kind of difficult you know,” you told your boyfriend unable to keep the amusement from your voice as you attempted to stir the vegetables in the frying pan to keep them from burning, a feat made rather difficult by the fact that Atsumu was wrapped around you from behind, his strong arms around your waist, his chest pressed to your back and his chin hooked over your shoulder.

             “It don’t seem to bother ya too much,” he informed you a slightly smug lilt to his tone as he nuzzled his face into the side of your neck affectionately, pressing a chaste kiss to the sensitive skin right behind your ear.

             “That’s because I’ve gotten used to it,” you told him dryly, which was true enough. Throughout your relationship Atsumu had always been pretty physical with you, an arm slung around your shoulders, or secured around your waist, his hand in yours, fingers twined together, a hand on your shoulder or thigh, it didn’t matter when or where he always found some way to be in physical contact with you whenever the two of you were in the same vicinity.

             It honestly was a little embarrassing at times, especially since he had absolutely no qualms about doing it in public. You’d gotten the stink eye more than once from some of the more conservative people around. Osamu and Suna had actually complained fairly frequently that he was being overbearing and annoying about it, but Atsumu had quickly shut them down by claiming they were just jealous anyway, which had earned him a tussle with his twin and a disdainful look from Suna.

             Still, your boyfriend was nothing if not stubborn, and he absolutely refused to stop unless you specifically told him to, and frankly you couldn’t bring yourself to do it, not when he’d looked so hurt the one time you’d shrugged him off after a particularly nasty look from an elderly woman had made you feel incredibly self-conscious. Between his feelings and the rest of the world’s delicate sensibilities, you’d chose to save his feelings every time, and had never shrugged him off again. Besides you liked having him close to you, it was comforting, and it made your heart flutter with happiness.

             “It’s not like yer discouragin’ me here,” he teased as he accepted the small bite of food you offered to him over your shoulder with the chopsticks you’d been using to stir humming in appreciation at the taste.

             You hummed in acknowledgment unable to keep the fond smile from your face. It was true enough. When it came to Atsumu you really couldn’t get enough.

             “Off for a second,” you urged gently, pulling your meal from the stove, and shutting things off, so you could go to the table, which your boyfriend had graciously set for the two of you before he’d come over and attached himself to your back like a limpet.

             He huffed and released you for all of the second it took for you to turn around before attaching to your back again, rubbing his face against yours affectionately in a way that reminded you of a cat, and made you giggle. You should’ve been annoyed that you were forced to waddle all the way to the table, with him clinging to you the whole way, but you honestly found it pretty cute. Despite what others, and especially Osamu, would say your boyfriend really did have his cute moments.

             “You’re going to have to let go if we’re going to sit down and eat,” you pointed out reasonably once you’d reached the table and set your burden down, though the words were contradictory to your actions as you wrapped your own arms over top the ones he had around your waist and leaned back into him, resting against him and enjoying his closeness.

             “What if I don’t wanna?” he asked teasingly, gently squeezing the arms wrapped around your waist, his chin resting on your head as he slowly rocked you back and forth in place.

             “Come on Tsumu we have to eat,” you urged with a laugh, “Especially after I made such a nice dinner for us. Can’t let it go to waste you know?”

             He agreed with a quiet grumble, and the two of you sat down to eat your dinner, though it didn’t stop him from tangling his legs together with yours under the table, making you smile once more about how cute he was.

 He Makes Time for You

             “Are you sure this is okay?” you asked your boyfriend, not for the first time, and definitely not for the last.

             “Course m’sure princess,” Atsumu told you gently tugging on a strand of your hair, his eyes soft and affectionate, surprisingly patient in the face of your concern.

             “But you have that big game coming up,” you worried peering up at him with anxious eyes, “And I know the team’s been having a lot of extra practices. I don’t want to get in the way.”

             “It’s our anniversary,” he pointed out, tucking the strand of hair he’d been pulling at behind your ear affectionately, “The team can manage without me fer just one evenin’ so I can take you out to dinner.”

             “But…!” you tried again.

             “Ah-ah,” he told you placing a firm finger over your lips to silence your protests, “We’re spendin’ the night together and that’s final. Besides we hardly need the practice, we’re gonna kick their asses again this year jus’ like we did last year so ya can stop yer fussin’ about it, otherwise I’m gonna think yer doubtin’ my capabilities.”

             You heaved a sigh in response, but decided to give in to him, just this once. He was right after all, it was just one evening, and if you thought about it, he really could probably use a break for a little bit, especially since you knew how very hard he worked. Still when you’d started dating him you’d vowed not to be like the others that had come before you and get in the way of his job.

 You knew he loved volleyball, more than pretty much anything, and you admired that about him. His passion, his drive, and the way his face lit up whenever he walked out on to the court, they were all things you loved about him and you’d never want to change them about him. You’d long accepted that you’d have to share his heart with the sport he loved at the very least, and were honestly just grateful that he’d decided to give you equal space, especially considering just how very much he loved it.

 “Alright,” you agreed at last. Honestly, you’d been more than willing to put off celebrating your anniversary until after this big game, but you couldn’t deny you found it extremely touching that he was so insistent about celebrating on the day, even more when you realized he’d clearly talked to his team about it in advance to make sure that he could, “If you’re sure.”

 “M’sure,” he told you firmly, cupping your cheek in his palm, “We’re gonna go out tonight, have a nice dinner together at that restaurant you like, maybe have some wine, maybe do some dancin’ come home and do another kind of dancin’ and have a good time together to celebrate proper, because yer worth it alright? You and our relationship are worth the time to celebrate the right way, so wait for me okay? I’ll be home at four, and our reservation is at five, dress nice.”

 “Okay,” you agreed, unable to keep the smile off your face at the way he described, what sounded to you like a rather wonderful evening, practically beaming at him, your smile so wide it was hurting your cheeks a bit.

 “Good,” he told you with a firm nod, “See ya later then princess.”

 He bent down, and you eagerly met him half way planting his ritual goodbye kiss on his lips before letting him walk out the door, his volleyball bag casually slung over his shoulder.

 “I love you,” you told him sincerely leaning against the doorframe as you watched him leave feeling giddy and completely and utterly infatuated.

 “Love ya too princess,” he returned over his shoulder, giving you one last affectionate smile before leaving for the day.

 When the door closed you couldn’t help letting out a slightly love-sick sigh that you knew he would’ve teased you mercilessly for if he’d heard it. Really all this time, and he still somehow managed to do things that made your heart flutter and your knees feel weak. It was honestly a little ridiculous, but you couldn’t help it. There just wasn’t anything better than being in love with Miya Atsumu.

[lallyloo]

The P-word

(Inspired by this morning’s episode of GMMore, @fanbabble requested a fic where Rhett talks about his penis until Link can’t take it anymore.. and this is what I came up with. I apologize for the formatting if it looks wonky. Tumblr won’t let me fix it.)

Rhett walks into the office and takes a seat at his desk, turning his chair around to face Link’s side of the room.

“You wanna talk about penises?”

Link spins around to face him.  “What?”

“Penises. You wanna talk about them?”

“Shut up, man.”

“I’m just sayin’,” Rhett grins, “you get all worked up when I mention penises. Maybe talkin’ about penises would help.”

“Stop sayin’ penises.”

“I could talk about mine.”

“I’m not interested.”

“You’ve seen it anyway, it’s no big deal.”

“No thanks.”

“Have I ever told you how hard it gets on set sometimes?”

“Dude, shut up.”

“I’m serious! Dippin’ my hand in hot wax? Hard. Pullin’ hairs out of my armpits? Hard. Hiding in the orange privacy tunnel with you? Hard.

“In the tunnel?? Why?”

“I dunno.. Felt like somethin’ we shouldn’t be doin’, like somethin’ naughty.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Nah, man, I was so hard after that. Why do you think I was crouchin’ down?”

“So you didn’t block the shot of the tunnel?”

“Nope. The tunnel was already on the floor anyway.”

“Why are we talkin’ about this?”

Rhett smirks and shrugs. “Got off track. We’re talking about penises, remember?”

“You’re talking about penises. I’m just trapped here.”

“You’re not trapped.”

“Well I’m tryin’ to work and you’re..” Link gestures to him, waving his hand around vaguely, “doing whatever it is you’re doing.”

“I’m just talkin’.” Rhett slides down a little in his chair, stretching his legs out, and moves a hand to rest on his thigh – a little too close to his dick. “Just havin’ a conversation. Thought it might help you.”

“We’re not having a conversation, and I don’t need any help.”

“Alright.”

Link spins his chair so he’s facing his desk again. “I have work to do.”

“No problem. I’ll just talk to myself then I guess.”

“Whatever.”

“That wax felt good this mornin’,” Rhett starts, and Link sighs loudly and shakes his head. “Would’a liked to stick my penis in it.”

“That’s stupid.”

“Might buy one and try it at home.”

“You’ll burn your dick off.”

“Hey, I thought you weren’t part of this conversation.”

“I’m not, but– ” Link starts, then stops.

“Man, just thinkin’ about it..” Rhett continues, palming himself a little through his jeans. “It’d be so warm on my penis.. You think it’d be warm?”

“I haven’t thought about it.”

“Maybe you should..”

Link doesn’t respond, so Rhett continues.

“Anything warm like that gets me so hard.. Warm and wet. Man, I’m gettin’ hard just thinkin’ about it.”

“No you’re not.”

“You’re right, I’m lyin’,” Rhett says, popping the button on his jeans and easing the zipper down. “I’m already hard.”

“Rhett..”

“You wanna see me take my dick out?” Rhett asks, and he’s given up saying penis.

Link shakes his head, barely, but doesn’t respond.

“Too bad, I think you might like it.” Rhett slips his hand in his jeans, down into his boxer briefs, and grasps himself. “Oh man, feels like I’m burning over here. My dick is so hot in these shorts.. Gotta give it some air.”

Rhett eases himself out, groaning as the cool air of the office hits his cock.

“Fuck, feels so good.. Nice and cool.. You wanna take yours out? We could do it together.”

Link’s voice is quiet when he answers, a little wavery, “No.”

“That’s fine, whatever you want, man. I’ll just entertain myself over here.” Rhett runs a hand up his shaft. “Damn, it’s dry.. wish I had that wax machine, or a mouth or somethin’.”

Rhett spits into his free hand, and smears it over his cock. The sound it makes is audible.

“You hear that? Fuck, it’s wet.” Rhett spits again and runs his hand over himself, up the shaft, and palms over the head of his dick. “When I rub on the head? God, feels so good.. You ever do that? Just rub it slick? I leak so much when I do that.. just drippin’ all over.”

“Jesus, Rhett.”

“Can’t help it, man. Just feels so good.” He moves his hand down and touches his shaft again, running his fingertips over the veins there, tracing them. “You ever look at the veins on your dick?”

“No.”

“Come on, I bet you do.” Rhett traces over his again. “I got a big one, just under the head, runs all the way down. Somebody could just, like, trace it with their tongue, follow it like a little road.”

“A road?”

“Yeah, a road to my balls.”

“Dummy..” Link mutters.

“Cold in here..” Rhett continues, ignoring him. “Feels like there should be steam comin’ off my dick, it’s so hot. I’m just gonna stroke it a bit, you don’t mind, do ya? I just.. fuck.. gotta touch it a little.”

Rhett strokes, easy, up his length, over the head, and back down, talking as he does it.

“I got, like, a rhythm,” he explains as he touches himself. “I always do it this way, up, over, down, and then again, and fuck, every time I touch my head it makes me jump a little. It’s got that soft little slit.. you ever tease it? Fuck, I do it all the time.. Just a.. little touch.. and.. god, just like that..”

There’s a creak as Link leans back in his chair. “Rhett..”

“I’m just talkin’, man.. just tellin’ you about my dick,” Rhett sighs as he stares at the back of Link’s head. “That slit, you know what I mean, always leakin’.. I’d just love a tongue on it or something.. teasin’ me, just lickin’ it a bit..”

Link moves then, suddenly, and Rhett jolts in surprise. Link gets up from his chair, turns around, and stands in front of him, staring down.

Rhett’s hand remains firmly clasped over his cock as he meets Link’s gaze.

“You wanna talk about it?” Rhett smirks.

“Fuck, Rhett, shut up.”

As Rhett opens his mouth to speak again, Link drops to his knees and smacks his hand off his cock.

“C’mere dummy,” he mutters, and Rhett gasps as Link’s mouth sinks over him.

He takes him in, straight down, and Rhett is briefly shocked that Link isn’t gagging. Then Link pulls back and moves a hand to Rhett’s shaft, holding it while he teases over the head with his mouth.

“You wanna talk about your dick?” Link asks as he sucks him, easing back for a second and licking over the tip of Rhett’s dick, “you want this little hole licked?”

Rhett’s hips buck as Link slides his tongue against his slit. “Ah fuck.”

“I can do it all you want,” Link says, pressing his tongue in. “I can just do this, just this, until you jizz all over yourself.”

“Gosh, Link,” Rhett sighs, and his hand is in Link’s hair now, pulling slightly, easing him back, not sure if he wants him off or all the way on again. “Can you.. aww fuck, can you suck me?”

Link pulls his mouth away to look at him. “That what you want?”

“Yeah,” Rhett groans, rutting, trying to fuck into Link’s palm. “Oh god, I’m so hard..”

“I know,” Link replies, and he leans in to give him a quick suck before moving back again. “You won’t stop tellin’ me.”

“Link, please..”

“Alright,” Link smirks, “but you gotta start shuttin’ up when I ask you to.”

“I’ll try,” Rhett laughs, closing his eyes and thrusting his hips forward as if he can somehow get them high enough to get his cock back in Link’s mouth. “I swear, I’ll shut up next time.”

“And we’re not gonna talk about penises.”

“Okay.”

“Call it your dick, or your cock, or your dong, or whatever,” Link smirks. “I just hate the p-word.”

Rhett laughs, “What?”

“It’s a stupid word.”

“The word is the problem??”

“Yeah, now listen, we gonna keep talkin’ about this or you want me to suck your dick?”

“Dick, please,” Rhett grins.

Link leans forward, taking him in again, and Rhett is struck silent as Link sucks him, wet mouth sliding over him, teasing his head, and Rhett’s hips jerk every time Link slips his tongue into his slit.

He nearly shouts when Link pulls his mouth away, but he manages to bite his tongue, and he watches as Link licks down his length – tracing the stupid vein down to his balls.

“Followin’ the road,” Link says quietly, and he sucks Rhett’s balls into his mouth, one at at time, leaving them smooth and wet and slick as he trails his tongue back up the vein and takes Rhett’s cock in his mouth again.

Rhett grunts and gasps and tries his best not to speak as Link sucks him, afraid he’ll say something stupid and make him stop, and he manages it until Link murmurs against his dick, “You gonna come for me?”

And Rhett is groaning “Yeah, aww, fuck,” and spilling in Link’s mouth, spurting wet heat across his tongue, and Link takes it, swallowing it down and giving Rhett one last hard lick against his slit, as if to remind him for next time.

Then Link sits back and looks up at him.

“We gonna talk about my dick now?”

Rhett gasps out a “YES” and he’s pulling Link up off the floor, fingers fiddling with his zipper, his mouth already open and ready.

[thoughtslikeaminefield]

Unopened At Your Feet

CHAPTER FOUR

Summary: Sam Winchester and I were volcanic. This is the story of how I broke my own heart.

Pairing: AU Sam Winchester x female reader (Narrator), AU Dean Winchester x female reader (Narrator)

Warnings: AU, explicit, weed-smoking, canon-compliant date-rape/roofie (Becky), love triangle, self-flagellation

Words: ~2700

c.1 | c.2 | c.3 | c.4 | c.5 | c.6 | c.7

AN: apologies for the delay in posting this. I had to rewrite this chapter about 17 times.

Many thanks to @cracksinthewalls @mskathywriteswords @itmighthavebeenintentional @there-must-be-a-lock @fangirlxwritesx67 for moral support and hard truths. You're my people.

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Looking back, it's clear that I didn't recognize the value of what was offered to me. I didn't even try to assess it; instead, I followed the lure of independence and freedom, not wanting to settle down too young or to compromise my desires or ambitions. I chose to play the field and explore my options — things my mom wasn't able to do when she was my age but that men have historically been free to pursue.

I pushed away people I cared about and who cared about me for fear of becoming a statistic — a mistake I will never forget.

Meg arched a brow in question as I joined her behind the bar just in time for the first wave of Friday afternoon patrons. I silently bobbed my head in answer and willed the tears to remain at bay for the rest of the shift, yet the ache in my chest grew despite my best efforts and the demands of the growing crowd.

Over the 4-hour crush, I staggered through doubt and shame, sick of myself and my prideful ignorance.

I had waltzed into a relationship with a man who had every intention of making something of it. And who wouldn’t want that? Who wouldn’t want to be with someone who strived for a healthy, fulfilling relationship? I should have wanted it, and, in hindsight, I needed it, but I was too caught up in what I thought I was supposed to do with my life.

Still, I’d spent weeks trying to be what I thought Sam wanted, fully knowing I was leaving. I’d tried to live up to what I thought were his expectations, tying myself in knots and hurting my best friend in the process.

And for what? I wasn’t sticking around. Why did what Sam thought about me matter so fucking much?

And what about Dean?

By the end of my shift, I was exhausted from thinking and overthinking, so I began to turn my frustrations with myself outward.

Why couldn’t he just be a regular guy? Why couldn’t we keep it casual? Why should I feel guilty for wanting a life of my own making?

Sam had come on to me. He’d pushed and assumed things. I never promised him anything.

Even if I had told him about Philly sooner, I was sure that he’d still have pushed, determined to have what he wanted on his terms, no matter what the circumstances.

“What can I getcha girls?” Benny asked as he and Pamela clocked in, and Meg and I clocked out.

“Shot and a beer,” I answered, swiping my work ID and placing my food order.

“That’s my girl,” Meg said, following my lead. “You been so busy with Groot, I’ve barely seen you.”

“I’m ready to blow off some steam.” I gave her my best smirk, and she gave one right back.

Benny and Pamela quickly took their shots with us before he shooed us out from behind the bar. “Go get food. I’ll have your beers when y’all get back.”

“Copy that,” I answered.

On our way to the kitchen, we passed the small booth where Dean sat, closing the afternoon books. He glanced up at us, his gaze instinctually dragging down and up my form, and I shivered.

“Wanna talk about that?” Meg didn’t miss a thing.

I peeked through the window to the kitchen making sure the path was clear before pushing through the swinging door. “About what, how dumb I am?”

We passed the dishwashers and waved.

“Sure,” Meg snorted. “What’s dumb?”

“Thinkin’ I could just fuck and run?” I stopped in the corridor on our way to the grills in the back of the kitchen. “Should’ve known Sam wouldn’t be easy like Dean.”

I hoped she’d have a clear-cut answer or fresh perspective; maybe from the outside, I hadn’t created as much of a mess as it felt like to me.

Meg leaned against the wall opposite me. “We both know Dean’s not as easy as you’re makin’ him out to be.”

I sighed and glanced back at the grills where Bess and Garth were working on our orders. “What the fuck am I doin’, Meg? I feel guilty all the time and I already miss... everyone.”

She eyed me sideways. “Listen,” she said with a look that told me she was about to serve the truth. “I’m not gonna say you’ve totally been yourself lately. You’re... different with Sam.”

“I feel different with Sam-”

She nodded. “Different how?” she asked with genuine curiosity. “Like I can see it, but I’m curious what’s goin’ on in your head.”

I leaned against the wall at my back.

“Like I’m always trying to be whatever it is he wants me to be, but I dunno what that is, so I’m just kind of... spinning. And like what’s even the point when I’m leaving in six weeks?”

“Everybody wants approval.” She mirrored my stance against the opposite wall. “But you never tried that hard with anyone else. Why do you think Sam doesn’t want you the way you are? Lots of people love you just the way you are.”

"I'm a mess. That's not what anyone really wants, is it?" I huffed a bitter laugh.

“You are,” she agreed with a smirk. “It happens to the best of us.”

I rolled my eyes and chuckled.

“I’m just... Am I making the right choice here?” I asked, not knowing if I wanted her to answer.

“Which one? The right Winchester, or the right move?” Meg asked with brilliant clarity.

The bald truth in that question was exactly what I needed to hear, but it was also my undoing.

“Girls, your food’s ready!” Bess called from the grill.

I drew a deep breath and dragged my gaze from Meg’s before heading over to pick up my dinner.

“Bess, I will miss your grilled cheese mastery above all else when I blow this popsicle stand,” I said, accepting my plate from her.

“There’s extra lovin’ in it,” Bess said with a smile.

“Butter and mayo,” Garth said. “Dean’s secret.”

I chuckled, remembering the midnight snacks Dean had prepared for me.

“Toast the bread first, butter in the pan — nice and hot, now — and mayo on the toast.”

“That’s a heart attack in the making,” I’d said even as my mouth watered.

“Worth it,” he’d replied with a wink as he carefully layered thinly sliced, beefsteak tomatoes with three kinds of shredded cheese. “And don’t skimp on the cheese either.”

“Thanks, kids,” Meg said as we swiped tiny containers of chipotle ranch dressing onto our plates and breezed out of the kitchen.

“Mind if we sit with Dean?” Meg asked quietly as we approached his booth.

“Course not,” I answered, feeling my gut flip and my heart leap forward.

“Cool,” she said.

There was no obvious reason for me to mind sitting with Dean, but as we drew closer my heart rate sped up and my hands shook.

“Aye, Papi, you see our numbers from this afternoon?” Meg asked Dean as she slid into the booth opposite him.

I set my plate next to his laptop and turned to see what was taking Benny so long with our beers.

“Ladies,” Dean greeted, not looking up from his work. “Nice hustle, drinks’re on me.”

“Woot! Hey, Benny,” Meg called, as Benny made his way down the length of the bar to our booth. “Herradura, please. Daddy’s buyin’.”

Benny nodded, setting our beers on the railing. “Getcha anything, chief?” he asked Dean.

Dean twisted in his seat, propping one heavy boot up on the bench as he closed his laptop. “Two Hearted,” he answered before glancing up at me. “You gonna sit?”

“Yes,” I snapped before plopping down beside him with a sigh. The recent realizations shouted in my brain and I just wanted them to quiet down.

Dean snagged a fry from my plate. “You’re in a mood,” he grumbled.

“Existential crisis,” Meg offered around a mouthful of cheeseburger.

I glared at her, and Dean’s eyebrows shot upward with amusement.

“That right?” He eyed me, chewing his stolen fry.

“Can we not?” I asked, digging into my grilled cheese, hoping that by keeping my mouth full of food, my careening emotions would stay buried instead of flying out in the open.

Benny appeared at the railing again with a beer for Dean and four shots of tequila.

“Not feelin’ talky?” Dean asked, handing Meg a shot and claiming one for himself.

I lifted my own shot in a gesture of a toast. “Nope. Feelin’ drinky.”

Benny chuckled, lifting his own glass. “Sounds good to me.”

We each downed our tequila then Benny quickly whisked the glasses away and got back to work.

I shoved down my volatile feelings and focused on spending time with my friends. We laughed a lot and hard. Meg and Dean together were a snark fest worth millions. Four shots and two beers later, Meg was dragging Cas home, and I was following Dean to his office.

“Meg and Cas are so cute,” I babbled. “I’m gonna miss them. And I’m gonna miss Garth and Bess. And Benny, that big ol’ bear. And Pamela’s biceps!”

Dean shot me an amused look, raking his eyes over me, as he unlocked his office door. “Haven’t seen ya this tipsy in a while,” he said, pushing his door open and waving me inside.

I felt loose and hot — impervious and insouciant at the same time. I wanted to go back in time before I worried about what Sam thought about me or anything else.

“You haven’t seen much of me as anything in a while,” I muttered, running my fingers over the back of the leather chairs facing Dean’s desk.

He cleared his throat and moved around me and behind his desk. “Lemme just put this away and I’ll get you home.”

I watched him reconnect his laptop to all the appropriate cables with care, remembering those warm, capable hands on me. I could almost feel his plush lips on my skin and the thick, solid slide of him inside me.

I wandered around the side of his desk and sidled up beside him, letting my hand wander to finger the hem of his flannel.

His shoulders hitched as he slowly turned to face me, before settling back against his credenza.

“What’re you doin’?” he asked, his voice quiet.

“Just catchin’ up with my BFF,” I muttered, inching closer, bunching the lapels of his open flannel in my fists.

“Hmm.” He hooked his fingers in one of my front pockets and rested his other hand on one of my hips as I gravitated between his sprawled legs. “Might regret that in the mornin’.”

I held his gaze, so warm and lush. A thousand stories of pleasure, joy, and coming home flashed in the verdant depths, and I was overwhelmed with desperation.

I wanted so much to run from the feeling that everything I did was wrong. I wanted to go back to before everything got fucked up — back when things were simpler and I wasn’t obliged to anyone for anything.

Dean didn’t place expectations on me ever. He just let me be myself.

So I closed the little gap that was left between us, and I kissed him.

I wanted to burrow into his arms as if I’d never left, to devour him whole, to breathe with him.

“Dammit,” he growled into my mouth, tightly gripping my hips.

He was so warm and smelled so good, tasted good, felt good.

“Miss you so much,” I whispered, sucking his bottom lip into my mouth. “Touch me.”

His thumbs and fingers twitched at my sides but he didn’t make a move to do more.

“Dean,” I breathed, doubling down on taking his mouth with mine, with everything I had.

I wanted him to know that I was sorry and that I loved him — that I wished I hadn’t hurt him or anyone else. I wanted things to be different.

I felt him tense and shudder as he let go a sound between a groan and a whimper.

“Baby,” he whispered, pulling away from the kiss. “Baby, slow down.”

I shook my head and tried to dip back in. “Don’t want to,” I said, feeling that ache returning to my chest. “Don’t push me away, Dean, please.”

“I’m not, princess,” he replied, cupping my jaw to gently hold me still, looking me in the eye. “Believe me, I wanna lay you out on that desk and make you say my name till you can’t even think of anyone else.”

His eyes and his grip on my hips confirmed that what he said was true and I just wanted so much.

“Then do it,” I whispered, my vision beginning to blur. “Please.”

He shook his head and pulled me in to cry it out for the second time that day.

“Fuckin’ me ain’t gonna fix anything with Sammy,” he murmured in my ear. “You’re ‘bout to burn it all to the ground before you even know what’s what.”

He was right, and it made my heart ache harder.

It was unfair of me to cry on Dean’s shoulder about how impossible it was to choose between him and his brother. It was downright despicable for me to try and seduce him into fucking away the pain of Sam walking away from me.

Yet, he didn’t miss a beat.

“C’mon,” he said, turning to press a kiss to my temple. “Let’s get you home.”

I reluctantly stepped away from that familiar bubble of safety and straightened my clothes as he snagged his jacket from the back of his desk chair.

“You got a jacket?” he asked.

I shook my head and wiped my eyes, feeling pitiful.

“Here.” He handed me his jacket. “Walkin’ around half-naked, it’s friggin’ 40 outside,” he mumbled, pushing past me toward the exit.

Dean locked his door behind us. We were silent as we made our way to the back parking lot.

I was suddenly very tired and very sad.

I followed him into the night, head down and hands stuffed in the pockets of his heavy utility jacket.

We were almost to his car when Dean called out. “What the shit is that?”

I looked up to find Sam, leaning against a brand new, black Dodge Charger.

“Tired of sharing Dad’s old car with you,” Sam answered, his eyes heavy on me.

“A Dodge?” Dean scoffed, circling the vehicle as if inspecting it. “Dad’s rollin’ in his grave, you know that right? Not to mention that thing’s a giant hunk of plastic.”

“What’s your mileage again?” Sam asked, finally dragging his gaze to his brother.

Dean straightened to his full height, narrowing his eyes at his brother. I watched a silent exchange between them, much like the night of my birthday party, before Dean rolled his eyes to the sky with a sigh.

“This hunk of plastic’s plenty warm. You can take your jacket back,” Sam said with eyes back on me.

My stomach flipped and fluttered as Dean walked up behind me, helping me out of his jacket.

“‘Night, princess,” he murmured before swinging his keys around his finger and walking to his car.

I stood, waiting for Sam to say something.

Earlier in the evening, before the shots and crawling back to Dean, I had resolved that Sam was demanding something of me that I wasn’t ready to give. But for the life of me, I couldn’t muster an ounce of resentment toward him at that moment.

He looked as tired as I felt as he pushed away from his door to walk around the front of the car, motioning for me to follow him.

I did so, without hesitation, and settled into the passenger seat once he’d opened the door for me.

“Thanks,” I said, looking up at him.

He nodded as he closed the door for me.

When he rounded the hood to the driver’s side once again, the flash of Dean’s headlights washed his profile in amber as the Impala flew from the lot.

Sam folded himself into the driver’s seat and fired the engine before putting the car in gear and pulling out onto the road.

As we turned the opposite direction from Dean, a small voice in the back of my mind wondered if I was in the right car. +

+

+

Chapter Five

If you like what you’ve read, please let me know and/or buy me a coffee!

[revasserium]

Can I request B.62 for Sakusa, if you write for him. Thank you 😄

hq!!reqs currently: closed 

(i adjusted numbering for the second prompt list; i hope i got the prompt right, if not, feel free to request the actual number 62 for him!)

123. seductive danger sakusa; 1,842 words 

you wouldn’t call him seductive, per se – though you supposed that the face mask could be a thing for some people. anything can be a thing for some people – rules of the internet and all. but he doesn’t go out of his way to pander to his loyal legions of fans (read: oikawa). and he really does have legions of them. 

going pro has only exacerbated the issue, much to his dismay. 

“no respect for personal space,” he mumbles one day as he’s carted into a dark van with tinted windows, having ducked out of the gym through one of the back exits. 

you glance up at him from over your phone. 

“hazards of being a famous volleyball player,” you chime. 

he only huffs. tugging his hood up over his head, and punching the recline button till he’s almost lying flat, his legs bent slightly against the seat in front of him. he really is a bit too tall sometimes. especially for japan, it’s not really well designed for people over the height of 6ft, and he’s well. more than that. 

you’d been friends for as long as you can remember, both a little on the quiet side as children, both with weird obsessions (him with his germs, you with your color coordination), both a little too odd for the normal kids to play with. neither of you had minded. because after all, you’d found each other, right? 

still, it was a bit strange, seeing your best friend grow into a household name, this title, this team. it’s strange, seeing his face on the side of busses or blown up on the big screens flashing over shibuya crossing, endorsing some random item or other (you’ve still no idea what sunscreen’s got to do with volleyball – they play the indoor kind). still stranger when he appeared on a list of the sexiest athletes in all of japan, narrowly missing out on the top four courtesy of kageyama, ushijima, and the miya twins. you remember wondering how on earth the second miya twin made it onto the list when he’s known mainly for selling onigiri, but you suppose that people do like their things in sets sometimes. that’s a thing for people too, right? twins. 

you’d never thought about sakusa that way before that article came out. and sure, you’d been pestered by some friends during highschool for his number, but it’d been funny then. it was less so now when hoards of screaming girls seemed to appear at every function he goes to (it’s not many, but he has to get sponsorships somehow), scrambling over each other for a glimpse of him. 

but sexy?

“how was practice?” you ask, eyes dropping back onto some article about how volleyball interest in japan has reached an all-time high. 

he makes a noncommittal sort of grunting noise before heaving a deep sigh. 

“it was grueling, as per usual. but i’m getting better at ball control on my spikes, which is good.” 

you quirk an eyebrow, “even more ball control than you already have you mean.” 

he turns towards you with an amused grin. 

(oh, well, there’s something you don’t see often.) 

“you can always have more control.” 

you suppose it’s because you’ve just been thinking about the article, but you can’t help lingering on his smile, the double entendre in his words. a prickle of heat crawls up your neck and you quickly look back down to your phone again, scrolling through for something else to read. something to divert your attention from how his knee is pressed against yours in the backseat of this van that had seemed much larger only moments ago. 

now, it seems to be shrinking in around you, the space between you getting smaller and smaller. 

you lick your lips. 

“what’re you thinkin’ about?” 

your eyes shoot up again. it’s not like him to ask many questions of this variety (about volleyball though, don’t even get his started), if any, but the way he’s looking at you makes your heart stutter in your chest. 

“nothing. why?” you retort, a little too quickly, and you watch as sakusa’s eyebrow travels up the expanse of his forehead till it’s in danger of disappearing completely into his hairline. 

“because you’re making a face.” 

“what face?” 

he leans in suddenly, squinting at you, your noses almost brushing. 

your breath catches in your chest, your thoughts derail like speeding trains, crashing into the unexplored wilds of your mind – you note that he smells like hand sanitizer and lavender soap. you remember that you’d gotten him a large bottle of it for christmas – he’s always running out of soap. 

“that face,” he says, his face still much too close to yours. 

from here, you can see the individual lashes framing his darkened eyes, and you watch as they dilate, like two pinprick black holes, ready to devour whatever comes into their path. the way he’s looking at you makes your skin go hot, hotter than it was before, hotter than when you’ve just stepped out of a shower, your skin steaming from the blistering water. you wonder briefly if steam might be coming off of your face right now, because it sure as hell feels hot enough to be. 

“i… i don’t know what you’re talking about.” there’s a breathiness to your voice that makes it sound unbelievable, even to yourself. 

he scoffs, falling back into his seat, his hood falling off his head, leaving his hair delightfully mussed. you resist the urge to run your hand through it, just to see how soft it might be. probably really soft, you think, from all the times you’ve brushed up against it, when he’d fallen asleep with his head on your shoulder in high school, even though he woke up complaining of neck pain because of how much shorter you were. 

“hm. whatever, i’ll figure it out eventually.” 

you sink into your own seat, wishing very briefly for the seat to open up and suck you into the plush cushioning. you nip that thought in the bud. it might lead to sakusa sitting on you one day, and you’d rather not follow that line of thought either. 

“don’t hold your breath,” you mutter beneath your own, but it only makes sakusa round on you again. 

“tell me what it is.” 

you laugh, a little helplessly as he presses into your personal space again. 

“i thought you didn’t like being so close to people.” 

he narrows his eyes. 

“you’re different. you know that. and stop trying to change the subject and tell me what you’re thinking.” 

“it’s nothing!” 

he huffs, “you know i can’t stand not knowing.” 

“it’s –” you flounder, looking for something, anything, to shoehorn into this, “really stupid,” you admit finally, but it does nothing to pacify his curiosity. 

“i don’t care.” 

you curl into yourself even harder than before, eyes flickering around to anything but him. it’s hard, when he’s so close to you he takes up almost your entire field of vision. 

“it’s… it’s just – i was trying to figure out if you’re sexy.” 

he blinks. 

once, twice, three times. 

you hold your breath, unsure of what he might say next. 

but then, he just settles back into his own seat with a contented grin, glancing over at you with a tilt of his head. 

“and?” 

you blink. 

“and what?” 

“am i?” 

“are you?” 

sakusa sighs. 

“sexy.” 

you bite your lips. 

“uh. i haven’t figured that out yet.” 

he regards you with an unreadable expression, his eyes sharp with the kind of concentration you’ve only ever seen on him during matches. to have all that attention focused on you feels like being beneath a concentrated heat of the sun filtered through a magnifying glass. and you’re sure you’re going to combust at any given moment. 

“hm. lemme know if you need further convincing.” 

“what?” 

he leans back in his seat and closes his eyes again. 

“you heard me.” 

“i think my brain glitched.” 

he peaks open one eye to look at you, and this time, you’re sure he’s smirking. 

(well shit. the magazine might be onto something here.) 

“that’s cute.” 

“what is?” 

he pauses for a brief moment, before – 

“your face.” 

you really do think your brain might have glitched then, and the expression on your face must’ve been more revealing than you realized because the next moment, he’s laughing. the kind of laughter that you hear once in a blue moon, when his team somehow manages to drag him out for enough drinks to get him to forget about all the other stuff. all the buzzing that goes on in his brain. 

he’s laughing, and you feel yourself blush to the roots of your hair. 

you reconsider your earlier wish to be swallowed by the seat. it seems perfectly valid again. 

“you’re –!” you try to find a word, something to encompass the torrent of emotions crashing through you, all of which are his fault. 

“yes?” he’s leaning in again, his eyes alight with mirth and something darker, heavier, much more tantalizing. 

“you’re…” 

he licks his lips, and think you can almost hear the sounds of your own wires fraying at the ends. 

“sexy?” he asks, though this time, there’s no laughter in his voice. it’s low, almost gravely as it grounds through his chest. you feel it vibrate through your own chest and it’s all you can do to keep from shivering. 

you swallow, your eyes flickering from his mouth up to his eyes, his pupils now blown wide enough to swallow his entire iris. 

you nod, slowly, despite yourself. and he grins. 

“good,” he says, his voice still low and soft and, dare you say it, seductive. 

“glad you got there first. i was gonna have to kiss you next.” 

he almost pulls away but you suck in a breath. 

“kiss me anyway.” 

he pauses; his eyes going an infinitesimal wider at your words. a second later, he’s leaning in close, close, even closer. his breath fans out over your lips and you let your eyes fall shut. 

he kisses you. 

and you thank the heavens that there’s a soundproof divider between the driver and the back of the van because that noise you make barely registers as human, tumbling from the back of your throat into his mouth. he grins against your lips. 

“should’ve done this sooner” he muses, pulling apart only to start another kiss. and then another. 

you smile, letting yourself be kissed and kissed and kissed. 

that article really has some merit, you think as sakusa manages to maneuver you out of your seat and into his lap. 

that, and maybe, just maybe, if it can keep his hoards of screaming fans from ever coming close to his lips, you just might be able to get into the whole facemask thing. 

[needs-to-stop-looking-at-valves]

"YOU SEND THAT AS A REQUEST RIGHT FUCKING NOW YOU WHORE. YOU ARE UNDER LEGAL OBLIGATION TO MAKE ME WRITE THIS." Request a story about it or request NSFW headcanons about it? Either way, do it. Do it now. -💝 Anon

In case you guys are confused, anon is referring to two other asks that essentially means, you guys are about to read Combiner wars Overlord fuck little Percy. Now, let’s fucking GO.

“Would you take a gander at you.”

By some stroke of luck, Overlord managed to catch one of Megatron’s little friends. He only had one, but one was enough to beat the shit out of, get information, then kill. Easy peasy, you’d think. But there was one complication. Overlord REALLY liked this one. A cute little nerd who struggled against his restraints. He had his hands cuffed to the ceiling of the small, dark room they were in, leaving him helpless. He was thinking about doing the same with the legs, but he appreciated the small, scared steps he took to try to get away from him. How cute. Overload’s hands roamed across that frame, much to the unease of the little scientist.

“Cute little face, but a nice, smooth body. You got curves in all the right kinda places. I dig it.”

It was almost evil, the way he was put together. A face that said cute and innocent, with a body that begged to just get fucked raw. Overlord chuckled as he pushed his body towards him with one hand, and held his face in the other.

“Sorry, I think I’m forgettin’ my manners. What did you say your name was?”

“P-perceptor. And you’re Overlord.”

“Ah, good, don’t gotta introduce myself then. Well then, Perceptor- actually. Let me call you Percy, you mind?”

The little mech found himself clam up as Overload’s hands now gripped at his chest. A nice, big rack for him to play with too. Overload gave a light shake of his helm.

“I’ll take that as no, you don’t. Listen here, Percy, I’m diggin how you’re put together. And seein’ as you ain’t doing anything else, imma have a little fun with this body of yours.”

He tried to shove his hand between his legs, only for Percy to jump. It was a decent reflex, enough for him to need his restraints to keep him upright.

“N-no! No thank you! Very kind offer, and I’m honestly flattered, but I’m not interested in ANYTHING like this. At all.”

Now Overlord was a scum bag. A total piece of garbage. But he wasn’t about to take this little cutie if he REALLY didn’t want it. He liked it when they screamed, but the thrashing about honestly was such a pain. But Overlord, being the kinda mech he was, knew how to get bots to see things his way. He grabbed at his bust again, pulling him right back into his front.

“You’re shy. If you really wanted me off of you, you’d be putin’ up much more of a fight. What is it…”

He thought for a moment, before piecing it together. The averted gaze. The only slight hesitation to his touches. Overlord suddenly barked in laughter, patting his little cheek.

“Wait a minute now! I know what’s your deal. Ain’t nobody ever touched you before, huh?”

Percy averted his gaze. So he was right. Not only was this little nerd a snack, he was a snack that no one had taken a bite out of yet. This was too good to be true. He grabbed a hold of that little chin, slowly running his glossa across those little lips. He didn’t turn away, didn’t act grossed out. He was a slut dressed in a nerd packaging. How precious.

“Hey, don’t worry, Percy. I know I’m a big, mean mech, but I’ll go easy on you. I’ll make you like it so bad, you ain’t ever wanna leave this place.”

Overlord pressed his lips against his, and in that moment of surprise, he dipped his servo between his legs, and opened his spike panel. Percy gasped, and tried to move, only to stop. Overlord’s hands were responsible for who knows how many deaths. But right here and now, it felt so good, letting him stroke his spike. It was slow, totally firm against him. Enough to make Percy’s helm fall back, right onto Overlord’s chest.

“Look at ya, liking it already. You like it when a big, mean mech touches you here, don’t you? What about here?”

He reached for the valve panel, only for Percy to jolt away from him. So skittish. Their optics met, and Percy’s was full of embarrassment.

“I...well. I’ve never opened it, apart from medical examinations. You’ll forgive me if I don’t exactly trust you anywhere near it.”

Overlord should've been pissed. But honestly? He was just incredibly amused. He let go of him, only to slowly walk in front of him.

“Percy Percy Percy….come on. I ain’t treating you nothin’ but fair. I know you think I’m mean, but I can be SO nice to you.”

“W-what are you doing?”

“Imma do the best I can~”

Overlord shot him a wink as he got to his knees, and enveloped that spike between his lips. Percy would have fallen to the floor, had it not been for the restraints. Percy was liking it so much, he was absolutely trembling, watching in lustfull adoration as Overlord slowly pushed him back and forth into his mouth. No one even BLEW this helpless thing. Overlord slowly pulled him out of his mouth, watching as Percy tried to excuse his erect, throbbing gerth.

“I-i don’t- I’m not sure If I-”

“Percy, baby, lemme tell you somethin’”

He started, taking moments in between to lick and kiss along that gerth. Each time was met with a fierce, hard throb, Overlord kept thinking the little guy was gonna bust at any moment.

“You’d think amongst this fightin’ combiners, religious mumbo jumbo, even stuff like the titans, I’d be more focused on it. But no. Amongst the lineup of things I wanted to get my hands on, REALLY fuck over, I chose you. I wouldn’t take that lightly. And I’m kinda thinkin’ this is going right out your little audials, ain't it science boy?”

He looked up at the panting, steaming little Percy above him. Overlord WAS going to kill everything in sight, and that little valve was his next target. Overlord got up, and walked back behind him. This time, Percy was far more welcoming to his touches, pushing against him eagerly, and even groaning as he played with that nice, cute bust of his. Overlord popped his spike panel open, and pressed it right up against his lower back. Percy gasped (flattering really), and stiffened in his hands.

“Is. Is t-that-”

“My spike? Mhmm. And it’s gonna fuck that pretty little valve of yours till your bathing in me.”

“W-wait I don’t think it’d f-fit-”

Percy was silenced as Overlord held his hips, and slowly started to run it past his thighs. Dripping in fluids, it fucked his thighs slowly, but nonetheless made him whimper and mewl. He was terrified, but he so wanted it. It was a wonderful smell that made Overlord damn hungry.

“That’s it baby. Loosen up for me. Overlord gonna fuck you nice and good.”

“G-good is the one thing I’m sure this isn’t-”

He was cut off as his valve panel suddenly opened. Now Overlord’s huge, hot spike was gliding against his sensitive, virgin valve. Every time it brushed up against him, he let out a shuddering moan, clearly tempted to bust already. Overlord clicked his glossa, making sure his head brushed up against that cherry red node from time to time.

“You autobots and your ‘good and bad’. My motto is, if it feels good, do it. And you feel REALLY good, Percy. You got a little body just right for a big guy like me.”

That was when he got a firm hold of those hips, and pushed himself in. He could've been more graceful about it, but that valve was practically screaming to have him inside. Percy let out a scream as he overloaded, getting nice and tight around his spike. As if he didn’t feel good enough already. Percy whimpered, maybe in some ploy of mercy, before Overlord caught himself almost snickering. Still keeping a hold of his thighs, he started to move, making Percy give out little cries each and every time.

“There we go. Don’t I feel good, Percy?”

When there was no response, Overlord grabbed his neck, TIGHTLY, and nearly growled in his audial.

“I said, don’t I feel good, boy?”

“Y-you feel very good!”

The line itself was cute, as well as how he said it, but the way he looked. Percy’s mouth was wet in drool, and his body kept itself warm, tight, eager for more. Overlord gripped tighter, liking Percy’s cute little choking sounds.

“You like it when I choke you, don’t you? I wouldn’t be lookin’ all ashamed. A little experimenting never hurt nobody.”

He chuckled. Percy didn’t seem to find it too funny, given the fact that he was too busy taking a spike as big as his forearm. He was handling it so well, Overlord figured he’d reward him. He unclipped the cuffs from above them, and suddenly he was on the floor, holding the little one on his lap, and shoving himself fully inside of him. Percy cried out from all of his nodes suddenly flaring to life with pleasure, but even then, Overlord wouldn’t let him rest. He started to thrust into him, hips darting it to really slam into that valve of his. Percy wasn’t even fighting it. Like Unicron’s darkness, Percy was becoming corrupted in all things guilty and extreme.

“I-i’m not sure I can-!”

“You gonna take it, boy. Look at you. Takin’ it so good already, you can handle the little mess imma make.”

Overlord’s spike was bulging against his plating at every slam, body trying to accommodate its size. Percy felt at the bulge, seeming to be fascinated with it. Overlord swore under his breath. He was so ready for his turn, he wanted this little loser to feel all of him.

“Look at that. Look at how I’m bulging inside of you. That’s MY spike in you, and it’s about to pump you full.”

Overlord used one of his hand to rub at that little node of his, and in but a few moments, they overloaded. Percy was first, nearly screaming as Overlord not only fucked him right through it, but promptly overloaded in him right after. It must've been a while since last he had a little fun, because his spike did NOT go easy on him. Pumping him full of enough overload to bloat him, Percy whimpered and whined the whole way through. Overlord grinned as soon as he felt his processor catch up to the rest of him.

“Hooo...I know I made some messes in my day, but damn aren’t you somethin’ else.”

Overlord held the little mech in his arms, rubbing the bulge still present on his new little toy. Overlord leaned up, one hand groping at those soiled tits of his, and shoving his glossa down his intake. Percy welcomed him fully, groaning and mewling at the attention. Overlord liked to destroy things till they crumbled.

And Overlord was going to do JUST that with Megatron’s little friend.

[all1e23]

Between the Stars [Pt.3]

Pairings: Past!Steve x Reader, Bucky x  Reader

Series warnings: CHARACTER DEATH. Grief. Overall sadness. Depression. It’s pretty angsty if I’m being honest. Things mellow out as the series goes on. TW: Military/Spouse death

A/N:  Each chapter is a month since steve has been gone as a reminder because this chapter does pick up the morning after Bucky arrived home. Big thanks to my pizza love @moonbeambucky​ for looking it over for me. As always for this series, flashback are italicized. If you like it write a book report, sing me a song or come scream at me. Remember not to judge everyone too harshly till all the secrets come out. ;-)

***My fics are not to be saved or posted on any other sites without my written permission. Reblogs are my jam, though! Thanks!****

“What’s missin’ in here?” 

Bucky stood in the living room, surveying the 420 square feet, coffee in hand, and squinting. You were both tired even after finishing off a pot of coffee between the two of you. Last night ended much like it started; in tears. You weren’t sure how long you cried or how long Bucky held you. There was a lot you needed to get off your chest, a weight you let Bucky carry for a few hours. This morning the burden was back resting heavily on your heart. It was your hardship to carry after all, not Bucky’s. 

He had his own you suspected. 

You stayed quiet as you watched his eyes move around the open floor plan, glancing from the dining to the living room. His eyes flicked along the bookcases lining the staircase, the tan leather sectional, and the two cream color chairs that Steve hated. You had a massive fight over those chairs, a real knock-down-drag-out. Steve didn’t want them. “Why would we buy white furniture when we are going to have kids? They will be covered in stains.” You had argued they weren’t white, they were cream. Things only escalated when you told him you wouldn’t have kids for a few more years anyway, and by then, they would be old enough that a few stains from sticky hands would be okay. Steve had thought kids would come along much sooner, it seemed. You simply couldn’t see how that would work while he was enlisted, and he thought the two of you could get through anything together; lack of communication and assumptions. Steve slept on the couch that night. If only you could go back and say sorry, beg him to come back to bed instead of being stubborn and staying mad to prove a point. 

What you would give to be able to go back and relive it all again, even the bad moments because they always turned into the next good ones. 

Bucky took a step towards the empty space by the front window, the sound of his boots on the hardwood made your heart clench. It was hard to miss now. The whole room looked uneven, looked off. Bucky spun back around to face you and asked gently, voice barely above a whisper, “What happened to your piano?” 

You’ve been waiting for the shoe to drop since Bucky showed up yesterday evening; he spotted the change faster than Sam had. 

“I sold it.” 

Bucky didn’t move or make a sound at your admission. His face stayed impassive, and after a few moments of silence, he simply nodded. The subject was dropped. Sam had flipped his lid when he saw that you had really gone through with selling it, “You loved playing! You shouldn’t be making big decisions like that right now, ones you might regret later.” You didn’t understand why Sam was so shocked, you made it clear that you were done with that life. It didn’t bother you, so it shouldn’t worry Sam. At least, Bucky didn't care. Perhaps he was only better at hiding it; if Bucky was disappointed in you, he made no outward show of it.  

“What plans do you have today?” 

You regarded Bucky with a blank stare over your steaming mug and shrugged a shoulder. You couldn't remember the last time you made plans or filled your day with something over than hiding away in your house. Over the previous two months, your days have consisted of avoiding everyone that you could and staying locked in the safety of the walls you built with Steve. It was the one place no one could judge you for still loving your husband. 

“All right. All right.” Bucky blew out a breath and rested his elbows on the kitchen counter, immediately going into fix-it mode. “Here’s what I was thinkin’ for today--”

You couldn’t help but take in the way Bucky was leaning against the white stone as he talked about the plans he had in mind for the day, what he thought the two of you should try to accomplish today, but you weren’t listening. It wasn’t that you were actively trying to ignore him, but there was something about his hair cut that short, and the way he was watching you as he spoke made you think of times that had long since past. When you were just a bunch of kids with no idea how the world worked or what it meant to be in love. 

“Hey, Trouble.” 

The deep voice calling you made you jump, you turned to see who the culprit was and narrowed your eyes when you saw Bucky holding back his chuckle. The scowl you were giving him looked menacing enough to scare most men off, but it only made the hold Bucky had on his laughter break. You dug an elbow into his ribs, and the groan that slipped from his lips was for your benefit, you were sure. Stupid cute boy. Bucky leaned against the railing, resting on his elbows and doing everything he could to keep his eyes focused on the water rippling under the wood beneath your feet. 

You weren’t sure what reasons Bucky had when he came looking for you because he was actively avoiding meeting your gaze now that he was by your side.

“Sorry,” Bucky said, soft and unsure. “I didn’t mean to scare you.” 

You smiled at the sincerity in his voice. Bucky rarely let himself be soft and vulnerable when everyone was gathered together like this, in party mode, but that was the side of him you saw more often than not; a secret piece of Bucky only you got to see. 

“It’s okay. I’ve seen one too many horror movies. I feel like Jason is going to come up out of the lake or something,” you said with a shiver and instinctively slid closer to Bucky, letting your arms brush against his. This time you only glanced at him out of the corner of your eye, and he was grinning as if he found something so funny about the situation the two of you were in. 

He wouldn’t find it funny when a swamp monster trudged through the mud and ate you both. 

Bucky leaned his head towards your, still eyeing that same dumb piece of wood bobbing in the rough motions of the lake, the proximity of his lips to your ear made your skin tingle, and he whispered in your ear, “I’ll protect you, Y/n. I promise I’ll always protect you.” 

You turned to face him, and he finally pulled his attention away from that ugly log so he could stare into your eyes. How could they look so blue when it was this dark outside? You swallowed the lump in your throat, worrying your already reddened lip between your teeth and whispered so softly you were scared he wouldn’t hear you, and you wouldn’t find the courage to repeat it.

“Always saving me. How’d I get so lucky to have a friend like you, Buck?”

You have no idea why you said that. It was so stupid! Yes, you were friends, and if you kept saying things like that, things would stay that way. At this rate, you were never going to get a chance to find out if there was something beyond this silly little crush you’ve developed. 

Why didn’t you tell him? Your brain hissed at you. You’re just a big scaredy-cat. 

“Y/n?” 

The firmness in Bucky’s voice brought you back, you shook your head to clear it of the times past and quickly followed it with a nod as if you were answering a question, but you had no idea what was said. Bucky didn’t mention your momentary blackout, but he did take the cup from your hands because your fingers were trembling, and you had yet to notice. You wrung them together to stop them from shaking, but they continued on.

“Have you been by to see Sarah?" Bucky asked again, picking up where he left off without missing a beat.  

You cleared your throat and shifted from one foot to the other, your guilt was shining through loud and clear. No, you had not been by. You had intended to and even tried a few times, only ever made it to the end of the driveway before you retreated back inside and crawled into your bed. It was too hard, and you didn’t think you could face her after everything. It was as if Steve was staring back at you, and that hurt more than your heart could handle. Bucky sighed and pulled your jacket off the hook hanging in the kitchen, holding it out for you to take and gently urged you, “Come on Trouble. I’ll go with you.” 

You grumbled something snarky under your breath that Bucky couldn’t make out, but it made him smile regardless. Your jacket was still hanging off his fingers, so you yanked it off and tucked it under your arm, refusing to let him win every battle today.

“I was thinkin’ we could stop in at Dixie’s on the way.” 

“I’m not hungry,” you grumped, a sour face and firm pout in place.

Bucky held the screen door for you and raised a brow with a smirk curling up the edges of lips, “I didn’t say you had to eat. I’m starving, and I’ve missed their stuffed french toast.” 

Your frown deepened at Bucky’s words and trudged across the yard through the snow to Steve’s truck. There was that stomach sinking expectation that he was trying to force you to eat, the same way everyone else did when they saw you. As if they were trying to cure your grief with casseroles and baked goods, not Bucky, though. He opened the door, and you climbed up into the passenger seat without second-guessing the action. Bucky made his way into the driver’s seat and pulled Steve’s keys out of his pocket; you never even saw him grab them.

It was quiet in the cab as Bucky fiddled with the radio, leaving it low once he had found a song he liked. You turned your gaze towards the window, and after several minutes of silence, you rolled your eyes, admitting with a huff, “I do like their french toast. They do that thing where they put the caramelized bananas on top, and the one with the cream cheese in the middle is pretty good.” 

A small smile formed, but Bucky didn’t say anything. He was smart enough to stay quiet. 

---

Despite having to face your mother-in-law for the first time in two months, you surprisingly felt better than you had this morning. All that sugar from Dixie’s helped. Even though you didn’t want to admit it, it felt good to do normal, everyday things again. Things you would have done with Steve or even before him. It didn’t make you a bad wife to go to breakfast with a friend or to order Steve’s favorite instead of avoiding it. It was okay to laugh a little when Bucky dribbled syrup down his grey Henley and missed the bit in the stubble that was beginning to grow back. Spending time outside the darkness didn’t mean you loved Steve any less or that you had to move on if you weren’t ready to. It simply meant the world continued on, and it was okay for you to do the same when it was time. 

That was a nice reminder, though, standing in front of your mother-in-law's door made it feel as if everything was at a standstill once again and the high from all that sugar was fading fast. You raised your hand to open the back door four or five times, but you couldn’t force yourself to touch the handle. Sarah had her own mourning to work through and didn’t need to add yours on top of it. She shouldn’t have to comfort you, and you were in no shape to console her.

Bucky’s knuckles ran up and down your spine to soothe the jitters you were emitting, he encouraged gently, “Go on, Trouble. She loves you. I know she’ll be excited to see you.” 

You took a deep breath and pushed the backdoor open, it creaked which made you smile. Steve would have complained about adding a little something to grease the hinges, so it wasn’t so loud. Sarah would say no, she liked to hear it squeak when you came in. Sarah’s eyes widened when you stepped through the door, but they quickly lit up with excitement. She was in the same spot as always, sitting at the kitchen table with the newspaper in front of her, thin blonde hair pulled into a bun on the top of her head, and you might have been wrong, but it looked like she was wearing one of Steve’s old shirts. Sarah pulled her glasses off, rising from her chair before you could tell her to stay. 

“Hey, sweetheart. I didn’t expect you to drop by…” 

Her words died off, and her smile quickly fell when Bucky stepped through the door, dusted off his boots on the mat, and smiled at her. It was obvious she was excited to see him, but there was a shake in her hand and a mist in her eyes no one could miss when he spoke, "Hey, Mama R." 

“I-I spoke to Winnie this morning. She didn’t think you would be stopping by right away,” Sarah stopped to give you a hug and whispered she loved you before she reached for Bucky and pulled him into a hug only a mother could provide. Bucky seemed happy to be on the receiving end, “Are you kiddin'? I had to come see you. I’m not home till I do.” 

Maybe it was what Bucky had said or the tenderness in his voice when he said, but it broke whatever glue Sarah was using to hold herself together. You took a few steps back and let your weight sag back against the counter, Bucky stood in the doorway holding Sarah, and you heard her choked whispers from where you were hiding, “Did it-- Were you there? Was it--” 

He shook his head, answering her unspoken question, was it bloody and painful. Bucky assured her, “Yeah, I was there. It was quick, and he wasn’t in any pain. I promise.” 

You met Bucky’s eyes over her shoulder, and he quickly dropped your gaze, his focus back on Sarah and comforting her the best he could. Bucky was lying. You knew him well enough to know when he was telling tall tales and right then was the tallest he’s told. Either he wasn’t with Steve when it happened, or it wasn’t as quick as he was claiming. 

Sarah was quick to wipe her eyes and pretend it never happened. She offered to make lunch, and despite your efforts to stop her by informing her you just came from breakfast, she began cooking anyway. You wanted to protest, but Bucky shook his head, so you let it go. Sarah was only trying to fix what she could, she couldn’t bring Steve back, but she could make ridiculously good turkey Reuben. Steve wasn’t mentioned the rest of the five-hour visit, and you had a feeling it was done for your benefit. It should have been a relief because the last thing you want to do is breakdown in front of Bucky or Sarah, but it only made you angry. 

Would they talk about Steve if you weren’t around? Would they share secrets and memories? Would Bucky have told her what happened to Steve if only you hadn’t come? It wasn’t fair of you to be angry with either of them, but nothing was fair about any of this. 

The ride back to your house was silent. You barely spoke five words to Bucky through lunch, and even though you promised you would soon, you weren’t sure when you would go back to Sarah’s. It wasn’t as hard as you expected, but today had been exhausting. Bucky never turned the radio on, and you were grateful. The quiet gave you a chance to hear the whistle in the wind as the trees rustled and listen for leaves blown by your window. It was a pretty whisper that made your skin prickle, you had forgotten how pretty spring could be. 

Bucky gave you space you so desperately needed once you got home. You bolted towards your bedroom the moment the front door opened. It wasn’t him you were running from. You hoped he knew that, so you left your door cracked. The stale air of your bedroom felt like you were suffocating, and the sight of your blankets in a heap on the top of your mattress only added to your unease. With the window cracked and one of Steve’s shirt now replacing yours, you slowly started to untangle the sheets and gathered your throw pillows off the floor in the corner of the room. Baby steps. That was what Sam was always telling you. So, maybe you start with making your bed. It wasn’t like anyone would know if you gave up. You were all alone. There was a soft knock on your door, and you looked up to find Bucky standing awkwardly in your doorway. 

“Everything okay?”

Bucky cleared his throat and gave you a curt nod. There was something dark in his hands, and he was gripping it so tightly you thought for sure it would rip in two. The stiffness in his frame made you stop, drop the throw pillow in your hand onto the end of the bed, and you took a step towards him. You inspected the hand he was holding out, and your chest tightened when you realized what it was.  

“I wanted to make sure you got this back.” 

Bucky brought your scarf back home. 

“He would want you to know it was with him when it happened. He had you with him when it happened.” 

You ran your fingers along the frayed threads and the new holes that were littered throughout. You could see spots where the sun had faded it, the darker pieces where he tucked it into his shirt. “I, uh, I didn’t wash it. I kept it wrapped in one of his shirts. I didn’t know if...” 

You brought it up to your nose to take a breath and smiled at the familiar earthy citrus scent. When they told you Steve was lost during a mission, you assumed you would never see it again. It was nice to hear Steve wasn’t lying all those times he told you he took it with him, it never left his side just like he promised and it was nice to have that piece of him back.

“Thank you,” you whispered.

Bucky shrugged his shoulder and gestured towards the end of the hall, where he would be if you wanted him. You weren’t going to say anything. The plan was to stay in your room for the rest of the night and wallow, but now… you didn’t want to be alone and holding that thin fabric between your fingers; you had to ask. With Steve’s scarf resting on the corner of your bed, you called out for Bucky before he could leave your sight. 

“Hm?” 

Bucky stopped short and leaned against the doorframe as if he was preparing himself for what you were about to ask. You’ve always been able to read each other, there was no doubt he knew what was coming. 

“It wasn’t quick, was it?” 

Bucky only shook his head in response. It wasn’t an answer to your question, he wasn’t going to answer you right now. He didn’t want to talk about it. Maybe that was for your benefit, or perhaps he simply couldn’t talk about it yet. Either way, you wouldn’t push him.

“W-would you want to, um, have dinner with me?” Your voice cracked when you asked. He caught it, but you pressed on, ignoring the concern darkening his eyes, “I don’t have any groceries. I haven’t been getting out much. There was a thing with a pie--” 

“Thing with a pie?” Bucky interrupted with a curious tilt of the head and playful smirk forming. 

You rolled your eyes and brushed it off with a wave of your hand. 

“It’s not important. People are nosy, and sometimes baked goods make you emotional, okay? It’s normal… Just-- nevermind. I was thinking we could heat up one of those stupid frozen dinners everyone keeps bringing by and stuffing in my freezer.” 

Bucky chuckled and waved his hand, silently telling you to lead the way, “Yeah, let’s go see what we’ve got, but I’m handling the stove.” 

“It’s just warming it up, Buck.” 

“Still,” Bucky whistled lowly, wearing that silly smirk. “I don’t wanna risk it, Trouble.” 

As hard as you tried to fight, you found yourself smiling for the first time in a long, long time. 

--

The next four weeks continued to drag on like every week since Steve has been gone. The hours crawled by, the minutes took forever to pass, and you counted the seconds until you could hide away in your room. Bucky didn’t smother you, but he did hover. He liked to check-in by walking by your room, never saying anything, just glancing towards your bed where he often found you. Bucky didn’t crowd you the way Sam had, but you knew he was taking notice of your lack of sleep and your poor eating habits from the moment he arrived. It wasn’t that you were purposely skipping meals; you had no appetite and forcing yourself to eat felt like torture some days. Your appetite had improved some since Bucky came home, but you still rarely venture out of the house or do much of anything.  Most of your days were spent hiding in your room, and your nights were spent on the back deck. 

It was the best place to stare at the stars.

That’s where Bucky found you yet again, you heard the sliding door rolling along the tracks and Bucky’s bare feet getting closer and closer with each step. Bucky was getting a glass of water like he did every night. He wasn’t the only one paying attention. Bucky slowly sat down next to you, letting his legs hang off the deck like yours but didn’t say anything. It was becoming somewhat of a nightly tradition, and most nights, you didn’t talk. Sometimes you didn’t even mind having the company, other nights weren’t so giving. You turned your head after several silent beats and looked at the man sitting next to you. Bucky gave you a small inquisitive smile, and you shrugged your shoulder. Bucky grinned and leaned his own arms on the railing, mimicking your stance and followed your gaze to the sky.

“So, why are you always out here? I come down every night, and I see you sitting in the same spot.”

It was a fair question, but the answer wasn’t so easy to give. 

“I don’t sleep much anymore.”

Bucky understood that better than most. He really did. Bucky had once told you between the things he had seen and the things he had done, he found it hard to close his eyes and rest. Sleep often meant nightmares, and lately, you had a feeling those were filled with images of Steve. Bucky gazed up at whatever set of stars you were trying to spot through the tears in your eyes, the ones you tried to hide when he came outside. 

Thankfully, Bucky would never bring them up.

“The house feels confining sometimes, but I’m not ready to leave it. It’s quiet, and my bed is cold. Empty. I don’t like it. And…” You sighed heavily and quietly admitted, “I like looking up at the stars. I feel like wherever he is, maybe he’s looking down at the same time I'm looking up. Feels like he’s not fully gone when I do that. It sounds stupid, I know.” 

“It doesn’t sound stupid, Y/n.” 

Bucky tore his eyes away from the sky and looked back at you. He shook his head and let out an amused sigh, "He used to say the same thing. A lot actually. Which didn’t make a lot of sense because our night was usually your day, but he said he liked to look up at the stars hoping you were doing the same and thinking about him." 

You smiled at the thought.

“Why are you downstairs every night? Checking up on me?” You nudged Bucky with your shoulder, and he gave you a gentle nudge back before answering.  

“Hmm. Nightmares. Things I’d rather not see a lot of. I try to avoid them if I can.” 

You hummed in understanding. Even if he hadn’t confided in you years ago about the things that haunted him when he closed his eyes, you knew about nightmares. You were constantly running from yours. The bags under your eyes and the constant yawning was the first sign that sleep no longer came easily. 

“Come on, Trouble,” Bucky urged you as he slowly stood and held his hand out for you. You looked up at him, brow furrowed with a question burning in your eyes; it was three in the morning, where could he possibly want to take you?

“Come on?” you repeated, hoping he would elaborate. 

“Let’s go lay down.” 

Your face went dark, and you looked back up at the stars, shutting down the offer. You couldn't sleep. Bucky tucking you in wouldn't change that. The bed was far too big now, with a cold side that never felt right and left you with an empty chest when you woke. 

"I’ll hold you until you fall asleep. I’ll stay with you, so it doesn’t feel so empty,” Bucky whispered as if he knew all the thoughts bouncing around your head. You slowly reached out and took his hand, letting him help you to your feet. He didn’t let go. Bucky held your hand as he led you through the house. He paused at your bedroom door and waited. It was the space you shared with Steve, and he wasn’t going to step into that territory unless you made it clear it was okay to do so. 

“Can you wait a second?” You whispered. 

Bucky nodded and released your hand so you could slip behind the door. A few minutes later, you stepped into the hallways wearing a baby blue tank top and matching cotton shorts, holding a pillow to your chest. It was Steve’s. You both knew it was. There was no reason to dwell on it or make an outward admission. You waited for Bucky to grab your hand and lead you back to the guest room that he had moved into, staring at his bed covered in more than enough pillows you’re filled with a bit of embarrassment and remorse. 

Bucky was only trying to help. 

“I’m sorry--” 

Bucky quickly pulled you into his arms and shook his head, soothing you with all those pillows bearing witness, “Don’t. You have nothing to be sorry for. Some wouldn’t understand, but I do. I get it. We’re okay, Y/n."  

You nodded even though you didn't feel any better about it, and glanced at his bed. It was the same size as yours, but this one looked much smaller now that you were sharing it with someone else. It’s been nearly two years since you shared a bed with someone else, and you weren’t sure if it was better or worse than sleeping alone.

Steve was always the big spoon. Always. There were rare moments when he would let you carry his troubles and let you hold him, but those didn’t come along often. You didn’t want to do that. It felt wrong even though there wasn't anything indecent about Bucky's offer. The offer was derived from his love for Steve, and for you, he was worried about you, and it was plain to see despite his best efforts to show you otherwise. You could give him an inch, and sleeping didn’t sound so bad after all the nights you have spent struggling to rest. Bucky waited for you to get comfortable; finally, you settled on your side, facing him with Steve’s pillow resting comfortably behind your back as if Steve was holding you, and he gave you a small smile. 

You were stiff when he wrapped his arm around you and pulled you towards him, so your head rested on his chest. It felt odd to let someone other than Steve hold you. Not that you haven't curled up next to Bucky on the couch during a movie or held his hand at Coney island. You’ve felt his lips on your forehead more times than you could count. That was a long time ago, though. Back when you all were just friends, and you thought maybe Bucky had feelings for you. Before that night, the night that changed everything, before vows had been exchanged and the Army, Bucky always seemed to be buzzing around you. He would walk you to class, bring lunch by your dorm whenever he could, Bucky would stay long after everyone else went home and held your hand whenever it was free to hold. 

There was a second, a fleeting twinkle when you thought he was finally going to admit he had feelings for you but, Bucky never said anything. 

Then Steve happened. 

Things between you and Bucky changed fairly quickly once Steve kissed you. Bucky no longer reached for your hand when it was bare. He was quiet. Distant. It took a few months before Bucky finally seemed to be himself again when the three of you were together. Things had changed, you didn't blame him. Steve had, only a little before you talked some sense into him and assured him it would take time for everyone to get used to the new dynamic. Steve had said, Bucky better get used to it because this, you and him, was forever. Forever wasn't quite as long as you or Steve thought it turned out.

“Did Steve ever tell you about the time I caught him fighting two guys double his size behind that old Pizza Hut, holding nothing but one of those red plastic trays as some sorta shield?” 

You chuckled through your sniffles and shook your head as best you could against his chest. The tension in your shoulders lifted enough that you began to relax, and Bucky ran a hand up and down your arm to help take the rest of the weight you were forcing on yourself.

“No, what happened?” 

Bucky snorted, and you knew the look he was wearing. The same look of indignation he wore every time Steve ran headfirst into trouble without thinking of the consequences. 

“Nothin’ good. Little punk ended up with a broken nose, and I lost most of my paycheck tryin' to cool them off enough to leave before they pummeled him into the ground. Then he gets mad at me for stepping in.” 

You tucked your head further into his chest to hide your smile and mumbled against the soft cotton of his shirt. “Lemme guess, he had it under control?” 

Bucky gave your arm a squeeze and confirmed, “Yeah, he had it under control.” 

“Tell me more stories.” You begged quietly, “Please?” 

Bucky was quiet for a few moments, and then his chest rumbled under your ear, “Let’s see, all right. All right. I got one. In fifth grade--” 

Bucky talked until your breath evened out, and soon you were snoozing soundly against his chest. He hoped tonight your nightmares would give you both one night of peaceful sleep, but he wasn’t counting on it. 

The night was coming to an end, and you spent most of it watching Wanda attempting (and failing) to stop Pietro from flirting with every girl present, Clint and Nat making out by the fire all night long and Sam having several serious conversations with Bucky. Dot was still fawning all over Bucky after she got her claws in him and pulled him off the dock and away from you. Not that, that was unusual when everyone got together. She was always all over Bucky. Everyone seemed to have someone and that someone wasn’t you. Even Steve was avoiding you tonight for a reason you couldn't begin to understand. Maybe it was time to throw in the red Solo cup and head home. 

“Y/n?” 

You spun around to see Steve standing behind you, looking out of sorts and a little nervous.  “Hey, Stevie.” 

“Hey. Hi...” Steve gnawed his bottom lip and stared at the fire in front of you, trying to process something by the look in his eyes. He was struggling with something, and you were starting to worry something was seriously wrong. 

“Are you okay, Steve?” 

“Am I okay?” Steve echoed your words. You giggled at the way his brow crumbled, and his nose scrunched up while he thought your question over, making him grin.

“Screws this,” Steve whispered. 

Steve tossed his cup in the fire and took two long strides into your space, cupping your face in both hands, and his lips were on yours before anyone knew what was happening. There were a few whistles and shouts from your idiot friends, but you didn’t notice any of them. All you could see at that moment was Steve. His lips were softer than you pictured, and your heart jumped in a way you didn’t think was possible from one silly kiss. It wasn’t anything indecent, but it was enough to make your knees go weak, and your breath stutter when he finally pulled away Steve pressed his forehead against yours, still cradling your face in his hands when he apologized. 

"Sorry. I really love that laugh." 

Your heart fluttered, and your fingers tightened around his wrists, hopeful it would be enough to keep you standing when the ground drops out from under you a second time.

"You kissed me because you love my laugh?" 

Steve’s cheeks turned a pretty rosy color. His embarrassment wasn't enough to make him let you go just yet. "Yeah, I guess I did.” 

You paused for a beat. 

“How long have you wanted to do that?”

Steve smiled in that sweet, shy way you’ve always liked and whispered just loud enough for you to hear over the noise of the party and the fire raging next to you, “Pretty much from the moment I met you. I mean, It’s you, Y/n. Who wouldn’t want to kiss you?” 

A bright grin stretched across your face, and you stepped back out of his hold, holding your hand out for him to take. Steve took your hand but pulled you back into his arms, this unusual display of confidence coming from him was disarming.

“I was thinking about heading home, but I’m suddenly starving. Wanna go get some cheese fries and drive me home?” 

“Yeah, yeah, we can do that.I’ll go anywhere if I get to go with you,” Steve promised with a grin.  

Your eyes snapped open, and you stared up at the guest room ceiling, trying to catch your breath without waking Bucky. You hated that thinking about that night, let alone dreaming about it and having to see it all play out.  It used to be one of your favorite memories. You would beg Steve to replay the details as if he was reading from the pages of some silly storybook and now you couldn’t stand the slightest hint of that night. Your breath wasn’t steadying, it was only getting worse, and you could feel the panic building, clawing at your throat. You slowly slipped out of bed, leaving Bucky sleeping soundly and retreated to the safety of your room. Closing the door behind you, you flipped the lock, and your legs finally gave out from under you. You slid down the wall, unable to stop your tears you’ve been holding in since you woke.

Sam kept telling you to give it time. It would take time, lots of time to heal, but you didn’t think you could keep going on this way. Not when your own memories are there to torment you. You would give everything you had to simply forget. Forget it all -- his death, the phone call, all of your fights and the makeups, too. The bad and the good. You’d trade the memory of all his kisses if you could just let go of this hurt. 

This wasn’t how fairytales were supposed to end, maybe it was all a lie from the start. Perhaps you were never meant to end with a happy ever after. 

Previous //  Next 

[alfredosauce50]

What makes me human [Cyberpunk! America x reader] 15

Wordcount: 3, 484 Rating: T for strong language and mild violence “For you, it can be. I'm actually conscious about the taste and origins. You know those protein jellies Zao makes? They're made of his roommates.” Chapter synopsis: Everyone goes out for a night in town for a day off. While Arthur is complaining about the venue of choice, Allen sulks about the prospect of being replaced. When you disappear to the bathroom, he follows you and comes clean about it, even suggesting that you run away with him. You're reminded that you picked the right choice when you come across some unfinished business. The reader is referred to as she/her.

15 - Blood was on the agenda

“Technology advances, but humans don't. We're smart monkeys, and what we want is always the same. Food, shelter, sex, and in all its forms, escape.”

He could repeat the quote word for word if he wanted.

A week had passed since Zao left the planet, leaving you buried to the neck with work, and him, with an unstable mechanic. Alfred was still wasting away, but he couldn’t bring himself to care when the guy was the source of all his problems. Ever since he returned to the guest room after comforting Arthur, this feeling of abandonment never stopped haunting him.

How could it, after seeing you curl up so comfortably with Alfred? Every night was the same. Allen would face you, hoping you could face him. But it was always your back. Your arms were coiled around the blonde's neck like they belonged there. And the image seared into his mind like branding. It only burned deeper into his soul at every passing day as you stuck closer to the man.

Down a narrow flight of stairs in a secluded street was a pounding nightclub. Two bouncers who could easily take his head off guarded the entrance. With tattoos of dragons etched into their skin, the sight was enough to get Arthur warbling again. “Why did we have to come here? The club across the street looked fine to me!”

Allen clicked his tongue and ruffled his hair.

“If it weren't for the fact that two of your friends are on the hit list, we'd go there. But we need every bit of protection we get.” Holding his hips as he gave the two men a squint, a tense silence fell around the group before they gave a soft grunt. A grin stretched over his face. “Good thing your boyfriend has connections.”

“... Hah...” Digging a hand through his choppy blonde locks, he shook his head with a hard frown. “And because of that, that idiot will turn up dead in a ditch one day...” As he trailed off, everyone entered the establishment. One of the bouncers whipped their head over their shoulder to stare at the group that just disappeared inside.

“Didn't we already let that guy in? The blonde one?” He pointed behind him with a thumb.

“... You're tripping balls, man.” The other sighed.

“Not today, I'm not. The one with the blue eyes. Like an hour ago.”

“Maybe he came in again cuz' he wanted to. It's not that deep.”

“This is why I'm better at this job than you.”

“Eat shit.”

It was a cloudy afternoon. A grayish-blue haze had been cast over the city, but what you walked into was so much dimmer in comparison. Nothing but neon illuminated the interior. Lights that faded from blue to purple lined the countertops. The tiles of the dancefloor were a blinding white. Next to it was a heated pool that glowed blue.

As fog clouded over the surface of the steaming water, it curled around the patrons wading in it. Needless to say, you were hypnotized. “Did nobody actually think of bringing their swimsuit?” Scrambling to the edge, you bent down to your knees and played with the white clouds. “A nice hot soak would do my sore muscles some good.” Before your fingers could do so little as graze against the water, Alfred grabbed your wrist.

“But not for your junk. They're practically swimming in STIs... Just do it at home in the bath.” He grumbled, pulling you up. Shivering at the thought, you let him pull you to the bar.

“But the bath doesn't glow...”

“Not yet, it doesn't.”

Allen narrowed his eyes. The guy was so quick to follow you, then lay hands on you, it had him rethinking his life purpose. Protecting you was meant to be his thing. Hell, it used to be his job, even. And yet, here Alfred was, having replaced him. No way. He was just an outsider in the end, wasn't he?

As he watched your interaction with him, he would soon learn he was right to some degree. Maybe Alfred didn't replace him, after all. He just became another figure in your life. Somebody he never managed to be--yet.

“Let's just grab some grub.”

Ever since Alfred arrived, he'd been wondering what was on the menu.

Hunger might have been history, but not eating. And you knew it well. Shooting him a weird smile, you nudged him with your elbow. “You say you don't have organs, but you still have a digestive system. How else do you use the toilet, huh?” Alfred looked at you, turned away, then looked at you again with his face scrunched up in a scowl.

He couldn't admit it, but you were right down to a T. “It doesn't count. It's not exactly real if it's not made of organic materials.”

Taking a seat by the counter, the stools beside scraped back to be occupied by your friends. While Alfred sat on your left, Allen sat on your right. Arthur took the end. “It's all a social construct.” You piped, much to his displeasure. The word wasn't entirely accurate to describe the emotions flurrying in his chest, however.

Was he frustrated? Yes. But he'd be lying if he said he didn't want to hear what you had to say. And you didn't disappoint. “If something serves a function in your body, it's an organ. Doesn't matter what it's made of.”

Alfred waved over the bartender. “I'm not having this conversation with you. We're from different generations, so I have a right to brood in peace.”

“Fine. But I won't let it destroy you.”

His breath hitched while he was about to order. “Can I--” Darting his eyes to yours, his voice only faltered at the steely look in them. Tearing his gaze from you had never been so difficult. “... Can I get a yakisoba with extra bonito flakes on the top? And uh, six of these dim sum-thingos?” He slid the menu to you.

“What do you want?”

A soft laugh rumbled from your throat as he refused to look at you. I'm finally getting through to your thick-headed ass, huh? But you couldn't be unreasonable. This was always a touchy subject. “I'll just have these dumplings. What about you two?”

Allen raised his brows, unimpressed. “Lotus chips and beer for me. This isn't the most vegetarian-friendly place in the world. Sucks.”

Arthur smirked. “I know, right? But protection is the priority, I suppose. I'll have the BLT.”

“I don't think you get to side with me when you ordered the worst thing off the menu.” The redhead mused, causing the other to flare their nostrils. He slapped his hands down on the counter to sit further up his stool. “But I get it. Aw, everything reminds me of him! Except for this BLT cuz' it's white.”

“Shut your gob and bugger off, Allen! It's literally just food.”

The said man sipped his beer loudly. “For you, it can be. I'm actually conscious about the taste and origins. You know those protein jellies Zao makes? They're made of his roommates.”

“So what? Not everyone has the same eating habits as you. Deal with it!”

You exchanged funny looks with Alfred. “Don't they get along well?”

“Not as well as us. And it'll stay that way so long as you don't talk about your philosophies.”

“... And that's not happening.” The food finally arrived, so the murmur of conversations came to an end. But it wasn't long before they picked up again. “You're not the only one who can have opinions.” Alfred glanced at you with narrowed eyes. “I can't even say that they're as strong as yours. But you'll have to live with them. Maybe you could learn something new.”

He scoffed, but he couldn't bite back a defeated smile. “C'mon, not this again. You of all people should understand how I feel about that stuff.”

“And I've seen what it does to you.” Alfred hung his head at that. This was exactly what he wanted to hear, but it annoyed him all the same. The hardest topics were often the most worth discussing, and this was a perfect example of it. Giving your chest a few indignant bumps with his head, he sulked like a child much to your amusement. “I'd love to entertain you some more, but nature calls.”

Hopping off the stool at that, he thrust out a hand to grab yours. It all happened so fast, even he was shocked. But it became apparent to you both what just happened—he needed you for one last reckoning. For you to see that expectant look of his, saying how he wasn't done with you. After a few moments, he let go, letting you turn away and run off to do your business.

Life had been such a shitshow you almost forgot the situationship between you and him. Even with his lacking memories, he couldn't forget it either. And now, he just had to wait for the right time.

“Right. That's it.” Allen grumbled, scraping his chair back to hop off.

Arthur glanced up.

“And where the hell are you going?”

“Gonna go with her. I've learned to not trust anything anymore.” Jogging after you at that, the mechanic was left with a fellow blonde.

“Well, would you look at that? It takes two to tango.”

Alfred shook his head. “What?”

“You and Allen, I mean.”

The toilet flushed. Leaving the cubicle to wash your hands in one of the communal sinks, you stared at your reflection as you shook away the water droplets. The pandemonium of the club music had faded to a soft thumping, giving you some space to collect your thoughts. Even in the darkness, what you saw in the mirror couldn't be clearer. It was distinctly different from watching yourself in a pond—where the ripples of the water distorted your image—specifically the one in the garden back at headquarters.

Your old home.

But it could burn for all you cared. This was who you were now. Tired, resentful, and fuelled by a fire of hot vengeance.

“... Whatcha thinkin' about?”

Your heart jumped out of your chest as you turned to the voice. Leaning against the doorframe was none other than your old bodyguard himself. “Oh my god, you scared the crap outta me.”

He craned his head to the side with a grin. “Sorry, a force of habit. Security works better when they're discrete.” You responded wordlessly with a small, wistful smile. As nostalgic as it was to have the man by your side 24/7, he didn't have to do this anymore. And it was better that way. Something about bodyguarding never sat well with you. Not with a man of his talents, anyhow.

Walking in to join your side, he bent down to fold his arms across the sink. Then, he rolled his head up to you. “So... Wanna tell me why you look like that?”

“Like... Like what?” Blinking a few times at the mirror, you leaned in to peer at your reflection.

Allen snorted. “Not literally. Well, not your physical appearance. I can tell when something's on your mind.” Straightening up, he squeezed your shoulder as he stared at both of your reflections. Almost instantly, he felt you tense up beneath his fingertips. “I've known you for nearly eight years, dollface. I'm offended that you're underestimating me.” The man pressed his cheek to yours coyly. “Even if you don’t talk to me about your problems, I can smell em’.”

You outstretched your hands to hold the edge of the sink, breaking away from the contact on his skin. It wasn't anything worth paying mind on your end, but the feeling of your face separating from his was reminiscent of tearing something from its glue. It stung as much as it was destabilizing. It showed in his troubled frown, which deepened when he heard your mirthless laughs while you hung your head.

“I'm sorry I haven't been talking to you.” The loudest silence fell around you both as his eyes went round with grief. “It's... Too productive.” Returning his gaze with a bittersweet smile, he felt himself die a little inside. You weren't spared of the sensation as you continued with an honesty so brutal, it killed you to say it. “I've been trying so hard to make something out of myself.”

Your brows trembled ever so lightly as they furrowed together. “But I'm getting so tired, I wanted to just... Give up on the future. Maybe disappear for a bit. But I couldn't bring myself to come to you or anyone about it. You especially.”

Allen huffed out a pained breath. “Why? I wanna help you! You can trust me with anything, you know that! Out of everyone in the world, I'm the closest to you, aren't I?” Holding onto your shoulders, he gave you a desperate squeeze. “Or am I wrong to assume that?” In this space in time, he never felt more betrayed in his life. The hurt coursing through every fiber of his being was unbearable—he preferred being skewered into by your father's blade to this.

“Because it’s Alfred now?”

Your heart sank as you listened to and saw how wounded he was. His lips were trembling, and tears were threatening to spill from his glassy eyes. Never in your life had you seen him cry. The sight was so sobering you couldn’t hold yourself from pulling him down into a tight hug. “No! It's because you're you.” As your bodies swayed from side to side in the embrace, you dug a hand through his hair and screwed your own eyes shut. “You’re my only family in the world. Nothing and nobody will ever replace you, ever.”

He tightened his hold on you as he let a few tears roll down his face. His eyes had been shut as a last-ditch resort to keep that from happening, but they oozed out the tiny gaps of his lids. “Then talk to me.”

Allen never knew he had this fear, but here it stood before him in all its glory, threatening to undo his sanity at the seams. It was the fear of being a second choice. Being abandoned. He already was once, and it nearly cost him his life. But if you did it--“What makes me so different from the rest? Why would it be easier to say this to everyone else?”

“Because you’ve known me since I was thirteen!” You buried your face into your hands to hide how it contorted with pain. Falling deathly quiet at your sudden outburst, he could only watch as you trembled away. “I’ve been working towards something ever since. I always thought I was scared of disappointing dad. But in the end, I was more afraid of disappointing you.”

Allen pulled you in again, and this time, he didn’t hesitate to kiss your cheek. It wasn’t a first, but the way how his mouth lingered on your skin made it feel like something more—something beyond a platonic friendship—and pulling away felt like a sin in itself. “Don’t think that fucking low of me. You could never disappoint me.” Pressing his forehead to yours, he bit back a contented sigh as your cries quietened to sniffles.

“You have nothing to prove. Fuck expectations. You don't have to live the way everyone wanted you to. Just live how you want.” Reaching up to hold your face, he was at a loss from how satisfied it felt to finally say it. But the moment of truth had yet to come—the culmination of everything he wanted in this world.

“Just run away with me. We can put this all behind us. We don’t have to think about this ever again.”

You held onto his hands that found a place on your cheeks. It was a nice thought. To abandon everything you knew to live a carefree and blissful life with Allen. But you declined with little hesitation. “We don't run from things. It's not who we are.” A sad smile made its way to your face. “And I have too much unfinished business.”

Allen wasn't sure whether to think of your response as rejection. But he wasn't about to let it get to him. “... If you ever do, then tell me. Zao's got a nice retreat in the middle of nowhere. We'll pack our things in the middle of the night and disappear by morning.” Your smile spread to him, but his was more bittersweet.

“I just want you to know that you'll always have a way out of everything. I'll wait for you. So just... Give me a call.” He shoved his hands into his pockets to walk off. With one last wistful look over his shoulder, he added this. “I'll always be your guy.”

Going to the bathroom was meant to clear your head, but here you were, sitting in your lonesome in an empty pool room in the penthouse to mull over the conversation. You would be lying if you said you didn't want to run away with Allen. A part of you wanted to return to how things used to be—when it was just you and him. He was the most important person to you in the world, but so was Alfred. You couldn't just forget about him like fuck all, could you? Breathing out a drawn-out sigh, you watched the soft pulsing of lights of the city at night through the window.

Maybe Allen did want you to forget him.

Fiddling with the gun he left you, the barrel scraped against the counter in small slides. Then, you picked it up with a huff to slide off the stool. It was about time you joined the rest. As you did, you caught sight of a familiar silhouette by the window.

Shrouded in the dimness of the room, their body was nothing but a shadow against the scenery of neon holograms and billboards. With a brief squint, you could recognize the person almost right off the bat.

“Alfred? How did you know to come up here?” Tucking the gun into your back pocket, you couldn't help but grin at the pleasant surprise. The said man spun to your voice, then waved. Your grin would've widened at the sight, but it faded upon discovering he was in a different set of clothes than what he arrived in. He came in a dark khaki military jacket and navy blue jeans.

Weird. When did he change to a kimono?

“Hey! I haven't seen you in ages. Come gimme a hug, dammit!” Tightening his arms around your waist, he lifted you up a few inches off the ground. A few nervous laughs fell from your lips as you held onto his shoulders to stabilize yourself. And they felt... A little softer than you remembered. Warmer. Before you could linger too long on the sensation, he set you on your feet and gleamed.

“Whatcha doing in the club, (F/N)? I thought you didn't like places like these. 'Specially when this one's got ties to the underworld and stuff.”

You craned your head to the side—never have you been this baffled. “... You walked in here with us.”

Alfred blinked. “Oh, did I?”

“... Are you drunk?”

He patted his chest a few times without eliciting any sort of whirring noise—immediately, the interaction changed to an unsettling one. But his answer only confirmed your suspicions. “Nope! Stone-cold sober. It would take more than a few drinks to get this baby down.” He gloated, much to your surprise. But the shock soon morphed into a grim kind of understanding.

Alfred couldn't get drunk.

In a heartbeat, you grabbed his wrist, then felt down his forearm. The utmost terror contorted at your expression as you felt his soft flesh sink between your fingers. You only sucked in a horrified gasp when you witnessed his veins disappear under your presses. It was almost as if he was—“Heh. You having fun there?”

Glancing up at him in a dark glower, you never bothered to open your mouth. Instead, you reached for your back pocket. If he was who or what you thought he was, you couldn't let Alfred see him. He couldn't leave this room alive. However, your conviction couldn't triumph the smallest shred of hope that you were just seeing things. There was one way to confirm you weren't hallucinating.

Blood was on the agenda, and you wanted to see it.

You pulled out your gun at light speed and fired a shot into his palm.

The explosive bang was loud enough to reach a few floors down, including the elevator that just left this one. Allen was whistling to himself when he heard it.

As faint as it was, he couldn't mistake it for anything else.

He shouldn't have left you alone.