#and fell for it bc of all those great unlocked fics

[karelysse]

Well... I can't take the trend that's been taken in the fandom of writing ooc porn fics not bc I'm qce, but bc it brings really bad memories from when I was in the fandom of the Anime of Hetalia. There was this character that represented spain and was a sweet guy overall and what the fandom did? Bc he was good with kids they decided to make him a pedophile. The character of France was made a rapist bc he was very flirty with everyone, and that happened with tons of my fave characters. (1/2)

So, if that alredy made me sick and get away from the fandom, imagine it now how it is for some of us. I can’t stand ppl mking Javier a douchebag when he’s a sweet nice guy, how painful is to see yuzuru being portrayed as a nymphomaniac bc he acts sexy in some of his programs. I can’t stand extreme personality twisting and seeing the direction this fandom is taking makes me wanna stop following fs altogether and abandon my works and orphan them. At least for me this is plain awful 

hey there!you know, i’m not rly the kind to speak publicly about issues bc truly, i hate drama in general,, but i decided to answer this still bc i feel it affects me directly– not bc i feel attacked by this message or anything, but bc this is about writing fics, and i write fics, and mostly i read them, so somehow, i guess, my opinion sorta matters. 

this issue is valid & i understand your feelings– seeing a trend that is not your taste becoming proeminent in a fandom u love is frustrating. you’re obviously not the only one who feels like this bc i’ve seen lots of cc/tweets/even tumblr asks about this lately. but mostly– i’ve seen comments on fics. and i guess thats the thing that bugs me the most. 

the two problematic things seem to be 1. characterization 2. twisted sexuality/nsfw incorporation into it. 

Characterization because readers feel the version of the “character” they read is way too far off reality to be acceptable. often they are deeply flawed– they are mean, violent, sadistic, manipulative– name it. That, and u add “twisted” porn scenes, where those flaws come in full display. if this is revolting to you, i think it’s perfectly fine and normal! but there comes the trick– there is no such thing as “too far off” bc hey. this is fiction. this is the F in RPF. nobody– even the ones considered the best writers in the fandom –has a damn clue of reality. u can try and be as faithful to it as u want, everybody can argue about it. 

The thing is that the fics you consider acceptable bc they are “the closest to canon” are JUST as far off reality as those weird ones. you consider them acceptable bc they are the closest to YOUR vision of reality, bc they fit your standards, your point of view and your fantasies the best. 

Feel like only reading the TRUTH about javi and yuzu? read news articles. There is no such thing as “true”, nor “wrong” characterization. (then u can argue– in this fic, there is no character development, or no dept or no that– that’s valid critic, as long as its done in the context and setting of the story. because that’s what it is. a story.) 

Then comes porn– i’ve read so many comments on fics being like “please, please lock this” or something. well– i get you’re trying to preserve the virtue u guess your idols have– or maybe protect the kids? but you CAN’T, and i will repeat you CAN’T police the internet. something you don’t wanna read? don’t read it. if javi or yuzu stumbles on a fic where javi or yuzu rapes the other– its because they CLICKED on the fic, and somewhat, were looking for it. just like you, reader. What you CAN argue on and ask nicely is to tag stuff. that is very, very valid. i recognize not enough stuff is tagged appropriately out there, and i understand that you don’t have to read rape if that is something you don’t want to read. nobody deserves that. but remember– the author is a person, if they don’t tag something, it might be just inattention or that they thought it didnt matter. be kind. 

 telling people that they should stop writing fics, or writing altogether bc they write something that doesn’t fit your taste is not only immature and dumb, but also very mean. remember those very bad fics you read are often written by very young people. probably younger than all of you. just. be kind, please. 

Let’s not fight, as fandom, over this. let’s not shame writers bc they write things you don’t approve of in general or bc for once, they tried something different that u didn’t like. let’s not try and install this culture of “black” and “white”, “good fics” and “bad fics” w no grey zone. 

and mostly, let’s remember– a cute hanahaki disease fic, a circus au or a very long, detailed, very realistic fic of RPF is JUST as creepy as any other dark!ish fic. Damn, as a celebrity, i’d be even more creeped out by very realistic and faithful to the truth fic than by a damn vampire mary-sue self-insert au a twelve year old wrote. 

And remember the most important part: don’t like, don’t read. I haven’t clicked on any of these /problematic fics b4 today, to see what all the drama was about. Hell, i was barely even aware of their existence. Please don’t generalize a whole fandom bc of 5-6 very productive writers.

[tharros-auris-black-asimi]

Warmth

Pairing: Alpha Beefy Bucky x Female Mutant Reader

Summary: Being paired off with Bucky Barnes on a mission was hard enough. Hell, the two of you being a part of Hydra a long time ago was already hard enough. But when the two of you are forced to seek shelter in an Avengers safehouse, it gets even worse.

Because there's only one freaking bed.

Will you survive the night with the grumpy Alpha by your side? Or will you rip your hair out?

Who knows. The nights are unpredictable.

What you do know is, is that Bucky Barnes is too fucking hot for his damn good.

Maybe you just might pull your hair out.

Warnings: Heavy A/B/O dynamics. Mentions of past torture from Hydra for both Bucky and the Reader. This Bucky is sort of a mix between CW!Bucky, (hence the beefy!Bucky), but also TFATWS!Bucky bc I love grumpy old man, sassy Bucky. Some angst/hurt/comfort, because I'm a hoe for angst. No heats/ruts in this lil fic, just good ole rough smut. Some biting and some mild blood too. This sex would be considered unprotected irl, but in the a/b/o verse, I don't think you'd need protection??? Who knows. Italics are for when Bucky and the Reader are talking in Russian. The Reader also has a nightmare, which ties back in with the whole mention of past torture from Hydra. If I missed any other warnings in this, let me know and I'll make sure to add them!

Additional Notes: This was written for @agentofbarnes's writing challenge! Congrats on 7k, Zee! I'm sorry this took so long. I started writing this in July, and let it marinate for far too long. But it's here now. I hope you enjoy!

All writing mistakes in this fic are mine, as usual.

Word Count: 4,602

Hell.

This was absolute pure fucking hell.

As you and the former Winter Soldier, James "Bucky" Barnes himself stared at the front door of one of the safehouses for the Avengers in case of emergencies, you couldn't help make eye contact with him.

Great. This was just great.

No one, not even Clint had told you that it would be snowing in freaking January in rural Ohio, of all places.

Then again, you had faintly remembered doing gymnastics before you had been taken by Hydra with some arrogant Alpha guy named Lance. He had been a real pain in your ass and you remembered you had made him cry once. After you had escaped from Hydra, you had bumped into him again. Funnily enough, he was still just as scared of you as he was all those years ago. Which, you know, was nice.

But what was not nice was the Alpha that was currently looking back at you. James Buchanan Barnes, Bucky, Buck, White Panther, Jesus, Bionic Staring Machine- (the last three nicknames, all given to him by the Alpha Sam Wilson himself), scowled at you. His blue eyes even narrowed at you.

You wouldn't call what you and Bucky had a friendship. You two weren't even enemies. Heck, colleagues? Teammates? That was just putting it lightly, the relationship you had with the Alpha. Even when you had been captured and brainwashed into serving Hydra, the two of you had never crossed paths. It had been only after Hydra had fallen, did the two of you actually meet in person. Other than that, nothing. Nada. Nope. No with a capital N.O.

"Come on, let's go." Bucky all but grumbled. Realizing he didn't have the key to get inside, he looked at you. Like you had the key or something.

"James, I don't have the key." Bucky groaned. "Do you have a bobby pin, Omega? Something?" He asked in Russian. You plucked a bobby pin from your hair. A stray piece of hair fell. Putting the flat side in, you managed to unlock the door. You turned to look at him, giving him a toothy grin.

"Learned that from Pit Pocketing for Dummies, 101."

Bucky rolled his eyes at that. You just sniggered as you opened the door, greeted by cool air smacking against your face.

It made you shiver.

Because, unlike Bucky, you did not have any of that good ole supersoldier serum in your veins.

You were a mutant that could control water. Sometimes, you wished that you had the ability to control fire, because then, at least you could be warm in such dire situations such as these.

Taking your shoes off and putting them at the door, you surveyed the place.

It was a small house. Like a cozy little cottage. Probably only had at least two rooms at the max. It certainly gave off that vibe. There was a fireplace in the living room. A fully furnished kitchen, complete with a little wooden table with benches instead of individual chairs near the window.

Your grip on your bag of clothes became tighter as you realized that you needed to take a shower. Your stomach grumbled, alerting Bucky that you were hungry. Your comms had died. The two of you could contact no one until you charged them.

Which meant for at least tonight, or whenever the snowstorm outside stopped, you only had Bucky Barnes for company.

Well. That certainly would be pleasant.

"Go and shower first. I'll make dinner."

***

After your shower, you walked back into the kitchen, your sweet smell that reminded Bucky of deserts that his Ma used to make for him and his younger sisters back in Brooklyn drifted towards his nose. Thanks to the serum, he had already smelled it a mile away.

Cinamon rolls. Apple turnovers. Apple pies. Pumpkin pies. Bucky felt his Alpha rumble at the smell. Even Winter stirred at the familiar scent he loved so much.

When Bucky had gotten the trigger words wiped away from him due to Princess Shuri's genius, the Winter Soldier hadn't gone away from him. Rather, Winter had become a part of Bucky. Winter had been what Bucky became to survive Hydra. Winter was Bucky, only darker. More possessive. The deepest, darkest thing of him that the Wakandan Elders had helped him find again and reconcile with.

It was during times like this, making dinner in the kitchen that reminded him so much of his time back in Wakanda. Taking care of his farm and his pet goats, (that he sadly couldn't bring back with him when coming back to America), that he missed the most. It was domestic, in a way. He could almost feed into the fantasy, the thought that you were his Omega, his Bondmate, and that he was just making dinner for you.

From an outsider's perspective, it might've looked like Bucky didn't like you. That he just tolerated you. Treated you like how he treated everyone else in his life.

But it was the contrary.

He liked you.

He liked you very, very much. Other than Steve, Natalia, and heck, even the winged pigeon- you were one of the only people to truly understand him. You were probably even on the same playing field as Natalia, because you knew what it was like to be controlled by the Russian government. You held him at an arm's length at most, and you never treated him like he was some fragile, broken man. When you treated his wounds, you never fretted like other Omega's. Nor did you dottle. Ask him if he was okay every five seconds. It was disappointing in a way.

Bucky turned his head, just as you hopped yourself onto the counter, away from the conduction stove.

The smell of butter pasta was filling your nose. You watched with rapt attention as Bucky shut off the stove, grabbed the freshly grated cheese, and dumping it in. To hell with calories. Stirring quickly for a few seconds, he stopped. Turning his head to look at you, he gave you a low smirk. His scent of something sandalwood, oceany filling your nose. It made your Omega preen.

"Get some bowls, will ya doll? And forks too." Hopping off of the countertops, he heard a chirping, yet sarcastic reply.

"Yes, Sarge."

He felt his pants tighten at the thought. Hearing you grab all of the stuff, he swallowed.

Not that he would tell you that.

No.

Never.

***

"Oh, you've gotta be fucking with me."

So, as luck would have it. There weren't two bedrooms.

Nope.

There was only one.

Not only that, the entire room was fully furnished. A closet was on the left side of the door, against the wall. There was a window and just a bit to right, in the middle of the room, was a queen-sized bed, all made up with all the fluffiest blankets, comforters, and pillows imaginable.

"And you're sure this is the only room?" Bucky said. "Yeah! It's the only one, James. It's either this or the couch. And I'm not sleeping on the couch. It's too cold. Whoever built this safehouse didn't have any heaters built in either. Fuck, is this how I die? Freezing to death?" Your voice was getting higher with concern.

Bucky just rolled his eyes.

"No, doll. You're not to freeze to death. We're going to share that bed."

You turned your head towards him like he had just grown a second head. "What?" you exclaimed. "No. No, no, no. Noooo. James. Nu-uh. Uh-uh. I'm not going to sleep with you in my tank top and underwear. the least you've seen me in is a pair of short shorts and a tank top."

Bucky inhaled deeply through his nostrils.

Get yourself together Barnes.

Don't throw her over your shoulder.

Don't do that.

"You're a water mutant, doll. You're not a fire mutant. You aren't a supersoldier either. I'm not letting you freeze to death. I'll keep you warm all night. Better yet, don't sleep in your tank top and shorts. Our body heats will do just fine." Bucky snapped at you. You were still trying to collect your thoughts.

And then the realization, the reality of your situation, smacked you right across the face.

Bucky was asking you to sleep naked.

With him.

In the same frigging bed together.

Oh you were going to die. You were going to die and go up to wherever other spirits went to after they died. You weren't really all that religious nor spiritual.

But tonight though?

Yeah. Maybe you believed. Maybe a little.

Just the slightest bit.

"Okay, okay," you grumbled, "I won't wear any clothes. Better yet, I'll even give you a show. That'll even out the odds, James."

***

Warm.

He was just oh so warm.

Your back was flush against his front, feeling skin-on-skin.

You had stopped shivering about an hour ago.

Bucky had scouted the safehouse, to see if there was actually a heater, in case you had missed anything.

Nope.

There were no heaters in the safehouse.

Absolutely none.

Not to mention, all of the blankets weren't as thick. From what Bucky had observed a few hours ago after dinner while you had tackled the task of doing the dishes, was that the safe house had been abandoned for a while. It was either that, or nobody had stocked this place up for a while.

He had chosen the latter.

With his strong arms wrapped around your stomach, he pulled you close. You were asleep. Dead asleep. Bucky felt and saw your body rise up and down as you slept, your breaths all evened out.

It was nice, almost. Outside was quiet. Bucky could hear other than your breathing only the soft wind blowing due to the snowstorm outside.

For a moment, Bucky was lulled into a sense of calm. His mind was clear. His Alpha and Winter were quiet. He didn't have to fret. Or look over his shoulder. Didn't have to second guess himself or his actions anymore.

And then he heard it.

Soft whimpers coming from the sweet-smelling Omega that he was currently holding in his arms. You had begun to squirm, arms thrashing out. Your legs smacked on his knees, trying to desperately claw yourself free from his tightening grip on you.

"... I'll be good... just don't chuck me in the freezer again... please sir... I hate it there... please don't chuck me in the freezer, please..." you were sobbing in your sleep. You started to blubber, continually trying to claw yourself out of Bucky's grip. The metal plates of his Vibrainum arm shifted as his metal fingers tightened around your stomach. Bucky knew not to apply too much pressure on you- you weren't like him, Steve, or Natalia. You didn't have the serum in you.

"Doll? Hey, doll. C'mon, wake up. It's not real." Bucky tried shaking you awake to no avail. You had continued to thrash in his arms.

Sniffling loudly, your Omega was thrashing in her cage, in the confines of your mind. She was whispering, yelling at you to wake up.

"Omega. Wake up."

Bucky didn't mean to use his Tone. But you were being so hysterical, shaking, and crying to the point where it was beginning to worry him. Your sweet scent had begun to twist and turn into something more burnt. Singed. It made his eyes water.

You stopped thrashing in his grip. Your body froze up at his use of his Tone. Your Omega stopped throwing her temper tantrum too. She had paused for a second.

Her Alpha had given her a Command.

So why wouldn't she listen?

Peering from her cage in the confines of your mind, she sighed happily.

Alpha. Alpha cares about us. She whispered in your ear.

Slowly returning to consciousness, you struggled to know where you were for a second.

You had been having a nightmare.

A full-fledged nightmare.

You hadn't had one of those in a while.

"... Where am I?" Your voice was gentle but confused.

You still didn't know if you were still in that godforsaken Hydra facility or not. But you just wanted to make sure.

"Here, doll. You're here with me. We're in Ohio, remember? Sharin' one bed together cause I don't wanna be a bad Alpha and letcha freeze to death." Bucky said.

You couldn't help it. You snuggled into him, hearing a deep rumble coming from his chest. Bucky's Alpha was pleased. Very pleased. Winter was quiet. Which surprised Bucky. The little shit was usually more vocal about his own needs these days.

For a moment, it felt okay. You felt that weird fog lifting. Your brain slowly settling in your current surroundings. Your sweet, filling scent that had twisted and burnt into something smoky and burnt was slowly wearing off.

You were still a little shaken up. You could still hear your screaming echoing in your head. Your voice trembling, and because you didn't know if you were still stuck in the facility, "How long?"

"Not long."

Bucky watched as you lifted your head up, blinking once. And then twice. And then again, just to be sure.

Your body felt like it still wasn't physically here. Your body still felt like it was back in the cryo chamber, stuck in that damn freezer. Bucky watched your chest heave up and down. Taking in deep breaths.

Then you flopped right back into your previous spot, your back facing his front. Bucky pulled you back with his metal arm. You heard the metal plates in his arm readjust and move. You couldn't help it. Your vagina throbbed at the sound. Chewing on your bottom lip, you wiggled a little bit.

A deep rumble had come from Bucky.

The metal-armed Alpha had pushed a little bit of his weight down on you. Making you feel all warm and safe with the sandalwood and salty scent wrapped all around you like a cocoon.

You wiggled up against him again, trying to get comfortable. Your eyes closed.

A deep groan came from Bucky.

Was he asleep?

You stopped moving.

Another groan came from Bucky. His arms were wrapped around you. Not tightly, but still. It was kinda nice in a way. You could feel every muscle on his broad chest against your back.

Maybe Bucky had the right idea to sleep naked after all.

You shifted again. Trying to wiggle out a little out of the embrace.

A deep growl rumbled from Bucky. His grip on you tightened. You squirmed against him again.

Voice gravelly, "Stop moving."

Your eyes flew open.

He was awake.

And you had been-

Letting out a hiss, Bucky pushed his entire weight onto you and grinded his half-hard cock against your ass cheeks. Not even caring about if his entire weight would crush you, because of the serum.

He saw red.

Pure absolute red.

You choked. A needy little whimper filled the room.

Bucky's metal hand traveled down, all the way down to your pussy, his knee pushing your legs apart. You were panting in anticipation, eyes wide as saucers. His metal fingers were shoved deep, all the way to the knuckles. A pitiful whine left your lips. A needy whine too.

When he entered you, a choked sob escaped from your lips. Your hands curled into fists, eyes rolling into the back of your head as the formerly brainwashed assassin let out a growl.

"So sick and tired of you teasin' me," was what the former Winter Soldier growled under his breath, hissing at the way your cunt wrapped around him. Slick was smeared around your inner thighs, and you couldn't help but sob at the feeling of being so full.

Bucky was groaning above you, his hands nearing shaking.

Never had he ever thought he could ever get to do this again.

Because Bucky very much still liked sex. He very much so was a sexual creature. Being inside you gave him flashes of his life before Hydra. It made him remember a much skinner, smaller Steve. A much duller, war-stricken Brooklyn. It made him remember the giggles of Omegas. It made him remember his Ma's cooking growing up. Rebecca's giggles in his ears. Just like the old times.

Not for the first time in his life, he didn't feel trapped.

He felt free.

This was freeing to him.

And when he began to move, position his hips against your back, smacking roughly. Good enough to leave marks in the morning.

Wet, squishing noise echoed noisily every time he bottomed out of you. Every thrust in, filling you, completing you. It sent you gasping and crying out into the pillows. His hands- both metal and flesh, reached under you, to grab ahold of your breasts in a tight grip that only made you sob for more.

"More, more, more, please James, please-"

Something snapped in him.

Broke.

Bucky had never felt this feral before. The last time he felt this feral had been the hours when he first presented.

You whined loudly when he slid out of you, crying out at the empty feeling. Your Omega screeched in alarm.

Why had her Alpha stopped? Why?

Grabbing ahold of your legs, he lifted them up. Before he thrusted back in again, filling you up to the brim. It was deeper than last time, and his cock hit that spongy part. Hit your g-spot so good that you screamed into the pillows.

You were coming. You were coming so fast, that deep coil inside you snapping like a bomb wire being cut that you never got the chance to feel your programs. Your body jolted, spasmed. Your legs lifted off of the bed or at least tried to. Bucky's body weight was still keeping you down. So all you could do was grip the bedsheets when Bucky started to pound into you again, taking all he could.

You couldn't help yourself. You glanced back, just to take a glimpse of him.

James Buchanan Barnes looked downright feral and your pussy clenched around him deeper at the sight. as if she knew.

Every thrust made him go deeper, hitting your cervix every time. It made your second orgasm piggyback off of your first one, sobbing into the pillows. It was only when your second orgasm came, your walls clenching down onto his cock that Bucky's teeth sank into your shoulder, shattering, breaking the skin there. The taste of copper filling his mouth. Bucky let out a grunt as he came. Filling you up with so much of his jizz that he was sure it would drip from you tomorrow morning.

Bucky lifted his mouth from your shoulder.

Pants filled the room as the two of you tried to regain yourselves.

Bucky shifted, moving off of you and lying beside you. His eyes weren't black anymore. They were back to their normal blue. They reminded you of the sea in the morning on a peaceful day.

Your hand came to touch his face. Your hand faltered, trembled though. Because you were nervous.

"It's okay," his voice was deeper, huskier. It made your pussy throb. "You can touch me. It's okay."

Your hands came to touch, cup his jaw. You leaned in, pressing your lips against his. His lips were soft. Your lips moved together, his tongue slipping into your mouth. The kiss became deeper. You hadn't expected it to become deeper. You had been just going for an innocent kiss.

You swore.

Like- you really did.

You didn't expect to be fully making out with James Buchanan Barnes.

But it wasn't like you were complaining though.

Because you weren't.

Bucky was the first one to pull away. He could see how red, bruised your lips looked. He didn't recoil from your gentle touch on his face. He welcomed it. He truly did. Hands holding your hips, he looked at you.

His lips traveled down to your mating gland. He touched over it with his tongue, giving it a broad lick. His teeth sank in, piercing the skin.

Your ears popped. You cried out. His grip on your hips didn't falter.

"Yes, yes, yes," you gasped. Bucky lifted his mouth up from your gland, before sinking his teeth back in and biting again. Making his mark all that deeper.

It was only when he lifted his mouth from your gland, wiped your blood off of him with the blanket did you come at him, sinking your teeth into his gland. It made him grunt, even groan. His flesh hand came to your head, pushing your head down, making you sink your teeth even deeper into his gland.

"Yesss," hissed Bucky, his flesh hand sinking into your hair, gripping it. "Deeper, doll. Go deeper."

Winter and his Alpha completely agreed.

Theirs.

You were theirs.

After what seemed an eternity, you lifted your head up. Wiping your mouth on the blanket, you spoke.

"I missed you. What did you do to get us paired on this mission? I thought I was going with Sam," you said to your Alpha. A smirk stretched over Bucky's lips. "Ah," your Alpha said, still smirking, "I might've put something in his drink to make him vomit his guts out. He got sick."

A noise came from you.

"You gave him food poisoning? James!" You scolded him. Bucky leaned back against the headboard. "Don't worry doll, it'll wear off when we come back to the Compound. Bird Brain won't even know what hit him."

You shook your head in disbelief.

"You're unbelievable, Sasha. Did you teach Natalia that trick, too? Hmm? She and all of your Widow students?"

Bucky was still grinning ear to ear at you when he responded back.

"Well little bird, someone had to teach them. After all, I was their teacher. They all called me Yasha. Speaking of my Widow students..." he trailed off in Russian. You looked at him.

"You've contacted one of the KBG? About that leaked Russian tape with the orange man that is, unfortunately, our President?" He asked you. You nodded. "Yeah, Sasha. Everything's going as planned. Although, I think assassinating the orange man would've been a much better option. We would've gone in there and made it a done deal by now! Fuckin' Steve and his righteous self." You grumbled unhappily.

"Hmm. It would've been great as a date night. Don't you think, doll?" Bucky drawled. You gave a serious nod.

"Although... seeing him freak out on Twitter is much, much better. The tea is better when it's hot." You grinned. Bucky just let out a sigh.

"I'm restricting your phone privileges. And your TV privileges. You need to stop watching those drama channels, Mega."

A noise of deep discomfort came from you.

"Sasha!" you whined, "then what will I do while you're gone on missions?"

"Wait for me to come back?" Bucky suggested. You just sighed. Even shook your head in fondest. You happily snuggled up to your Alpha, your nose rubbing up against your Mate's gland. "I always wait for you to come back, Sasha. I wait and I worry. I love you, James."

A deep rumble came from your Mate.

"I love you too, Little Omega."

Your head peeked up.

"So, can we tell the rest of the team when I leak the tape?" You asked, your eyes glimmering with mischief.

Bucky burst out laughing.

"Yes, yes, yes. We can tell them once you've wreaked havoc, Omega."

"Good." You were nodding seriously, in complete agreement. "It'll be fun. And... also, I forgot to tell you."

The joyful expression on Bucky's face was suddenly replaced with one of worry.

"What? What is it?" He asked gently. "When you were gone for your last mission two months ago... I... I came off of my suppressants. I'm ready, James. I want a family with you."

Shock flickered over Bucky's face. And then he was shoving you back into the bed with a shriek coming from you.

"When's your pre-heat?" He demanded.

You felt it. A cramp. It made you whimper.

"N-Now, James. Now," you stammered. Your Alpha pulled your legs apart roughly before he thrusted back into you, making you gasp.

"Say it," he hissed. "Say you want it. Say you want my knot. Say you want my pups."

"I want it, James." Your voice was a low whisper, even staggering a little bit. "I want your knot. I want your pups. Please. Please, Sasha."

His hands, both metal, and flesh gripped your shoulder tight as that vein of his neck nearly popped. His eyes were black with want. Soon, his Rut would be upon him and he'd breed you. Put his pup in you. You'd carry his pup. He'd have the pack that Winter and his Alpha desperately wanted after all these years.

A whine came from you when he pulled out, only to let out a scream when he thrusted back in. Hitting that part of you that made your eyes roll into the back of your head. Your mouth fell open, but no words came out.

His pace was brutal, not even letting you hold onto him. Your hands were left to grip the bedsheets again. You gripped them so tight that your knuckles turned white and you thought that they were going to pop.

Bucky continued to push, continued to shove his ejaculate deeper and deeper inside of you. A mixture of your slick and his ejaculate smeared all over your thighs and trickled down your legs, and you just didn't know what was happening. Your hindbrain was telling you that this was what was needed. That your designation wanted, nay, demanded this. After all the shit you had gone through, your Omega had found her Alpha and now, now she was determined to have a family. Have the pack she desperately desired.

"Mine."

A harsh thrust made you sob.

"You're mine now. I waited for you for so long. Wanted you for so long. You're mine now. Got my Mark. Got my clothes in your nest. Gonna give you my name. Gonna give you my pups. You're mine. All mine. Say you're mine. Say it!"

You came screaming. Your orgasm making you see white. Bucky continued slamming into you, the wet, squishing noises coming from your pussy becoming louder and louder the more he pushed in. Your teeth sank into his flesh shoulder, shattering and piercing the skin there. You tasted copper in your mouth.

Bucky came with a shout. He shoved you back completely, making you shriek. And then he was leaning in again, sinking his teeth into your gland. Making another deep mark. It made you fall limp into the bed as his knot swelled, locking the two of you in place.

He lifted his head.

Being inside you... knotted inside of you... it was bliss. It was just as good as cockwarming. His cock all nestled deep inside of you whenever you two would sneak off to sleep together.

"Bite me again. Give me your mark, Omega." he panted. Slowly, your head went up, you slowly sat up, before taking in a deep breath and sinking your teeth back into his gland.

Home.

You had brought Bucky home. He held you tight, whispering in your ear how much he loved you and how much of a good Omega you were.

"I love you Omega." His voice was rough.

Lifting your head from his gland. Blood still trickling down the corners of your mouth. You offered him a smile. A genuine one. One that made his stomach all fluttery.

"I love you too, Alpha."

[strawberrymilkgeorge]

Part Ten. Faces

warnings: swearing, hate comments word count: 4.1k (not including pics)

behind the screen (irl dream x f!reader) series masterlist ultimate masterlist

A/N: sorry its late!!!! this feels rushed but i was just too excited to get to some parts!!! also i have had some parts written out for SO long that they dont even feel cute to me anymore so im literally praying to every deity rn that you guys think its cute lmao anyway enjoy!!!!

**********

It had been about a week since Karl's slip up but everything was already more normal than Y/n had expected it to be. Of course, George, Sapnap and Quackity were all very understanding and gave her space while simultaneously reassuring her that she was safe with them. She fully believed it too, she knew she was safe with them and they weren't going to tell anyone her name.

The one unusual thing was now she had a heavy guilt, like someone dropped another sandbag in her stomach, every time Dream texted her. If the others knew, it was only fair that she tell him her name too, right? I mean, it's Dream. Dream! The boy who had quickly slipped his way into her life and, though she wouldn't admit it to Karl or Naomi, her heart.

But how? Does she just come right out and say it or wait until it gets brought up? She hadn't practiced telling anyone her name because she wasn't planning on doing it any time soon. Though, maybe she should have been seeing as she was going to see them all in person in a little over a month.

Regardless of the guilt, Y/n had other things to worry about today; Quackity was coming to visit. Karl had picked him up from the airport and the two of them spent all day catching up and doing who knows what but Y/n still hadn't met him. She was scared. She wasn't scared of Quackity, but scared because it was the first time one of her online friends would be able to put a face to her name and voice.

Y/n shuffled across her living room rug and reached for her phone on the coffee table, looking for some sort of distraction while she waited for them to arrive.

-

Y/n rolled her eyes but smiled, shaking her head as she threw her phone on the couch. Okay, he's right. It's gonna be fine. It's gonna be great. It's just Quackity. If he said anything rude or annoying or anything she could literally just step on him like a bug.

A sharp knock on the front door of her apartment snapped her back into reality. She shook her limbs of nervousness as she made her way to the door, two familiar voices begging to be acknowledged from the other side.

"Let us iiinnn!! Y/nnn!!!!" Karl whined.

After countless times asking the same question, she finally convinced Karl that she was okay with him using her real name in front of Quackity. He clearly still felt guilty about telling the boys her name, asking her multiple times in different ways whether he should call her Y/n or Bugsy in front of the guest. She finally got it through his head that she didn't mind either way.

"Hold on!" she yelled back. She unlocked the door and swung it open to see Karl and Quackity. "So impatient."

"Holy shit, you are tall! Goddammit, I thought that was a joke!"

Y/n laughed shyly at the greeting, looking at Quackity like he was crazy. "Hello to you too. Tried to warn you, dude."

"Yeah but, damn! You're tall and attractive, what the hell?"

"Dude," she said with a warning in her voice. She thought the flirting on Twitter was funny, but in real life she got embarrassed easier and wasn't a fan. "I'm about to kick you out of my house before I even let you in."

This was weird, meeting Quackity before meeting some of her other friends. She loved Quackity, but she had known George much longer and Sapnap even before that. There was no problem with meeting Quackity, she just had no idea how to act since she felt like she hardly knew him.

"Am I allowed to tell people that you're hot?" he asked as he fell on her couch, Karl following right after.

"Quackity!" Y/n yelled, her face heating up at a compliment. "Seriously?"

Karl cackled and shoved Quackity. "Shut up, Alex! No, you're not allowed!"

"Sorry, is that compliment reserved for Dream?" He cackled at his own joke and Y/n's face heated up even more.

"I seriously will kick you out of my house."

"You wanna be flirty on main but not in real life?" Quackity scoffed.

"I'm not flirty on main, you are!" she laughed. "Seriously, don't."

"Okay, sorry, I'll stop," Quackity promised with a laugh in his words.

The three of them fell into easy conversation, mostly because Karl and Quackity were already comfortable around each other at this point. They eventually decided to go to the mall, just to mess around and do something.

*reminder: covid doesn't exist in this fic bc we only want happy things so ignore their masks :P*

Y/n frowned as she unlocked her front door, staring at her phone. She had been so happy with all the fans freaking out about the meetup so she looked at the trending list, expecting to see a flood of keyboard smashes and happiness, but that's not all she ended up seeing. BUGKARLITY was trending, so she scrolled through the tweets and was upset to see not all of them were positive. In fact, when she typed her name in the search bar, lots of the tweets using her name were rather mean.

A few that stuck in her head called her an attention whore and said that her friends only flirted with her because she paid them too. Who on earth would even do that? Some hurt way more than others but she tried to push them aside. It wasn't like this was the first time she had seen comments like this, but they had only gotten worse since her Minecraft date with Dream. She was worried it was cause more hate for her friends and the last thing she wanted was to be the cause of their own hate.

She typed several different messages to Dream, deleting them all after she reread them. She felt like she had to request the same thing from him in a different way. Maybe because she felt like his words meant more, even if he really was just joking like the rest of them. She decided to call him instead of texting.

"Hi!" he chirped happily from the other end.

"Hi, Dream," she said as her chest filled with something warm at the sound of his voice. "How are you doing?"

"Good," he dragged out the word. "How are you?"

"Okay."

"Just okay? What's up?"

"Um," she started, immediately forgetting the words she decided she'd use. "I just... would you mind, uh, not flirting with me so much on, like, Twitter and streams and stuff like that?"

There was a silence before Dream's frantically apologetic words came through. "Yes, of course, oh my gosh. I'm so sorry. If I had known I was making you uncomfortable, I wouldn't have—"

"Wait, no," she interrupted but he must not have heard.

"—said things like... oh gosh. Bug, I'm really sorry—"

"Dream!" she raised her voice, getting him to stop ranting. "You don't make me uncomfortable."

"Oh. Really?"

"Of course not. I actually think it's really..." Cute? Adorable? Endearing? "funny," she decided.

"Oh. Then why...?"

She sighed heavily and explained what she told the others. "So, yeah. I just don't want you guys getting hate because of me so I figure if you stop then... you know."

"Bug..." he said gently. "I'm really sorry. I promise you that I don't—none of us think those things about you."

"I know."

"No, seriously," he said, clearly not believing her. "You need to understand that I..." he paused. "I mean what I say. Always."

Always? she thought. There's a few things he's said that certainly he didn't really mean... like calling her cute?

"I don't joke around like that unless I want to. I wouldn't say things like I say to you unless I really, really, genuinely considered you a close friend and felt comfortable around you. And I do."

Her heart swelled. "Thanks, Dream. I just... maybe don't do it so much for right now? Online, at least," she clarified, not wanting to deprive herself completely of Dream's flirting.

"Yeah, if that's what you want, of course."

"Well, I don't want you to stop flirting with me but, yeah."

He chuckled. "Oh, you do like when I flirt with you?"

She hummed and changed the subject. "Did I interrupt you doing anything?"

"No," his teasing voice dropped and was back to his regular self. "I'm just editing the video we filmed the other day."

"Oh, the 'Minecraft, but you can't touch the floor'?" she asked.

"Yeah."

"Oh," she said, not meaning to sound disappointed. "I'll let you get back to it—"

"No. I mean, you can stay on the phone. Unless you're busy."

She smiled and put her phone on speaker and set it next to her foot on the floor. "I was just gonna paint. So I can stay."

Before she knew it, almost two hours had passed of them sitting in comfortable silence, occasionally speaking to share something with the other before going back to their tasks. It was comforting knowing she didn’t need to speak constantly and could just hang out with Dream.

Y/n's phone rested on the floor next to her, Dream on speakerphone on the other end, only the sounds of his keyboard clicking letting her know he hadn't fallen asleep or hung up. She wasn't sure when they started doing this, staying on the phone even when they had nothing to talk about, but they had done it a few times before. They had talked on the phone and Discord many times but it was usually always with purpose, not usually this silently-enjoying-each-others-presence nonsense. Who was she kidding calling it nonsense, she enjoyed it an embarrassingly insane amount.

She repositioned so she was laying on her stomach as she finished sketching an image that was in her mind.

"Hey, you still there?" Dream asked softly.

"Yeah. Sorry, am I taking away from your sitting in silence time with George?" she joked.

Dream chuckled lightly. "Nah, you're more fun. I was just seeing if you ditched me for Karl yet."

"Nah, you're more fun," she mimed truthfully. "But I'm very focused on this drawing."

"Can I see it when you're done?"

"Don't expect too much. It looks bad."

"If you don't tell me what it is, I can't know how accurate or inaccurate it is."

"Very true..." she trailed off, holding the canvas further away to examine it all at once. She wanted the sketch to be perfect before she made permanent choices with paint. She enjoyed the serenity they maintained even when talking, voices low and delicate like they were keeping secrets but not quite whispering. "Are you almost done editing your video from the other day?"

"Sorta. I'm at the part where you and Sapnap almost died laughing because a ghast knocked George into lava and then Sapnap laughed so hard he fell into lava."

She chuckled, remembering the situation vividly. "That was so funny. The way George screams is so funny."

"Let Naomi know that," he mumbled, causing Y/n to gasp.

"Dream!" she laughed loudly and he joined.

"Sorry, sorry, sorry. It's true though."

"Disgusting!"

A distant voice sounded on the other end and she assumed it was Sapnap. "What do you want for dinner?"

Dream responded with a soft, "Nothing, I'm good."

"Are you talking to Bugsy?"

He must have responded physically because the next sound was Sapnap's very clear, much more lively voice speaking directly into the phone. "Hi, Bugsy!"

"Hi, Sapnap!"

"Can you tell Dream to eat some damn food? This man literally hasn't eaten a single thing all goddamn day."

"Dream," Y/n scolded slowly. "Please eat."

"I'm not hungry."

"I'm not showing you my painting until you eat."

A door closed on the other end and she took that as a sign that Sapnap had left.

"I don't wanna see it anyway. It's probably trash."

"Take that back!" she gasped lightly. She looked at the canvas as she grabbed the first paint color and laughed. It was only a sketch and it was already trash. "Fine, then I won't go on the trip if you don't eat in the next ten minutes."

"That's punishing yourself too though."

"Who says I want to see you?" she asked.

"I never said anything about not seeing me being the punishment."

She had been caught. "It was implied."

"Sure it was."

"It's true though. Who says I wanna see your stupid face?"

He didn't say anything, but an incoming FaceTime call lit up Y/n's phone. A FaceTime call from him.

Her smile dropped. "Clay?"

"Answer it," his voice was lower and her heart started beating faster. Was he really about to show her his face to prove a point? Reveal his biggest secret that only a few close friends knew? To her of all people? She made sure she couldn't be seen in the small window and pressed accept, the voice call ending and the FaceTime call starting.

To her surprise, what came into view wasn't his face, but the logo of the hoodie he was wearing, the simple smile of his merch taunting her. She laughed, the anxiety slowly fading away as it was replaced with a heavy feeling in her stomach. Was she disappointed? Maybe a little, but he teased her into believing she would see him.

"Oh, wow! Dream face reveal! He looks just like his icon, no way!!!"

His chest moved up and down as he laughed, not moving the camera away. "You heard it here first, guys! You've known my face all along, the logo is actually my face!"

She laughed and returned to painting, not paying any more attention to her phone since he was now also showing his ceiling, a small corner of his monitor in frame but nothing else. "I mean it though, if you don't eat, I'm going to be so mad I won't even want to be friends anymore. Or you'll die from malnourishment before we get the chance to meet."

"I doubt it. I'm just not hungry."

"Whatever."

"Oh, hey, so you met Quackity today. How was it?"

"Very scary."

"Yeah?" he asked sympathetically, urging her to explain if she wanted.

"Yeah. But it turned out okay! He didn't act any different so it was fine. It was mostly just awkward. He's also so freaking loud. You would not believe how much louder he and Karl get when they're together."

"I can imagine. Aren't they doing a stream right now or something?"

"Yeah, I think so. I don't wanna watch though, I've had enough of them for the month."

Dream laughed. "How will you deal with them together for New Years'? It'll be for like two weeks."

"Who knows if I'll actually go?"

"Wait, what?" he asked abruptly, not even bothering to hide the disappointment in his voice. His keyboard stopped clicking and she could picture him staring at his phone as if looking at her. "Of course you're going."

"Not if you don't eat food! You have, like, 3 minutes to eat something until I officially am busy doing other things whenever the trip is."

Dream groaned and clicked a few things on his computer before the image on the screen became blurry as he walked through the house, still pointing it at the ceiling. She looked away again and kept painting.

"Quackity's really funny though," she continued. "It was super awkward at first but it was fun to have someone else to help me make fun of Karl."

"Wait, Bug," Dream called out over the sound of wrappers crinkling.

"Hm?" She hummed, continuing to paint.

"Bug," his voice was much softer and he sounded nervous.

She looked at her screen and dropped the paintbrush as she focused on what she saw, grabbing her phone and holding it closer to her face so she could see, still making sure she wasn't in view. All the anxiety from the beginning of the FaceTime suddenly came back and hit her like a truck. Sitting on her screen, waiting to be seen, was Dream. His hood was up, tufts of blonde hair sticking out, and he was standing with his back towards a dark room, the dim light from his pantry making his face just visible.

He held up a cookie in front of his actual, real face. "Are you watching?"

"Y-yea... I... Yeah. I'm watching. Is that really you?"

He nodded once before shoving the cookie in his mouth. "There, I consumed food," he announced, his voice muffled by the cookie. "Now you're legally obligated to come."

"I—What? CLAY! WHAT?"

"What?" he asked innocently as he chewed, walking back to his room and still holding the phone up to show his face. His room light was on, making his face much more visible. If Y/n thought he was attractive in the harsh pantry light, he must have looked like a god in his room lighting, even as pixelated as he was due to the quality of FaceTime. He fell on his bed and Y/n could only gape at his features. He slumped against his headboard, surrounded by roughly a thousand pillows, sporting a small, shy smile as he stared at the screen. "Bug, what?"

She opened her mouth but no words came out. Needless to say, he was unbelievably handsome. Part of the speechlessness was from the shock that he showed his face out of the blue, but obviously, the majority of it was that he was pretty much the most attractive person she'd ever seen. It should be illegal for someone to look that good in a hoodie, especially when pixelated.

"Hmm," he hummed thoughtfully. "Wanna take back what you said earlier?" He bit into another cookie.

"W-what did I say earlier?" Why was she stuttering???

"You said you don't wanna see me and that I'm ugly," he teased.

She paused for too many seconds too long before finally muttering, "you arrogant son of a bitch." He laughed loudly at that.

His eyes crinkled and he threw his head back. So that's what he looks like when he wheezes, she thought to herself, pretty.

Dream shuffled his position on his bed and rested his head on one of his hands. He looked so comfy. "Why are you so quiet, weirdo?" he mumbled.

She set her phone back down and touched her cheeks with her hands and looked away for a moment, grounding herself to the real world for a second. She couldn't process her thoughts when she was staring at a man as gorgeous as Clay. "I don't know, maybe because you gave me no warning before showing me your face? Or because you failed to mention that you're incredibly hot?"

She was so glad she had looked back at her phone or else she would have missed the glorious sight of his cheeks turning bright red before he turned the camera back to his ceiling. "Oh my gosh."

"Aw cute, I made you blush."

"Shut up," he mumbled. "You threatened to not come if I didn't eat something!"

"You didn't have to—you showed me your freaking face just to prove you ate a cookie!! DREAM! I would have believed you if you just said you ate something!" she laughed breathlessly, staring at the phone now for a chance to see him again. "I was joking anyway!"

"Sure you were."

"I was."

"Well, oh well. You deserved to see me anyway."

"Oh, I deserve to see you?" She laughed. "How big is your ego?"

"You know what I meant," he groaned. "You got doxxed by Karl and you met Quackity in person. And you've clearly had a bad day because of all the hate and stuff. You've done a lot of stressful things recently and you deserved to be let in on a secret too."

He was so sweet. Like, tooth-rotting, Halloween candy stash hidden under a kid's bed, upset tummy sweet. She also couldn't get over the fact that he was a million times cuter when he was shy like he was being now, his voice soft and unsure. It contrasted vastly with the confident, loud-mouthed Dream everyone usually saw, though she liked that Dream too. She wished he could show his face for just one more second to see what he looked like shy. Probably sickeningly adorable.

This was it, wasn't it? The chance she had been waiting for to tell him her name? He just let her in on his biggest secret, now he was the one deserving to be let in.

"Y/n," she said with a confident, but soft voice.

There was a long pause. "W-what?"

"Y/n."

He understood the second time immediately. "Y/n..." he tested, the smile in his voice clear as day. "I like it."

"Yeah, well, I guess you deserved to know the secret too."

"I would have been content never knowing."

"Really?" She didn't believe him. He seemed like the type to never be satisfied, always looking for something better. Not in a greedy way, but in a motivational, goal-oriented big achiever way.

"Really," he hummed. "I already feel like you're too good to be true so I wouldn't be surprised if you weren't a real person."

It was silent as she tried to collect her thoughts.

"Bug? You okay?"

"Yeah, I... it's just a lot."

"Sorry."

"No, it's not you. Well... I don't know. I just don't know what I'm supposed to say when you say things like that," she admitted.

He paused. "I think you always have the perfect responses when I say things like that."

"What do I usually say?" She smiled shyly, pulling her hoodie up to her lips.

"You usually call me a nerd or say you can't stand me. 'Oh my gosh I cannot stand you'," he mimicked before laughing.

"What? How is that the perfect response to you saying you can't believe I'm real?"

He hummed and she could practically hear him shrugging. "Because it's a classic Bug response. It's a hundred perfect you. So yeah, it's perfect."

She was silent, trying to compose herself before she exploded.

"By the way, check Twitter."

"Why, are you bragging about me calling you hot?" she teased, hoping to make him blush like she had earlier. It worked.

"Oh my gosh, no. Just look."

She clicked her home button and navigated to the app, her feed instantly flooding with the same similar messages.

"Oh, my gosh," she muttered, her fingers flying away as she typed out her own tweet in response to the love.

Dream chuckled from the other end and when she asked him why, he vaguely said that George texted him but didn't explain further.

"Um, I have to go," she said mournfully. "Karl and Quackity are coming over again."

"Booooo," he pouted.

"Sorry, you aren't the only man in my life," she teased before instantly regretting her choice of words. Too flirty, Y/n, she thought to herself.

"Hm, shame. Am I at least at the top of the list?"

She bit her lips, wanting desperately to repeat what she had told him on their Minecraft date. In the end, she gave in. "I always mean what I say too," she started. "You're my main bitch, baby."

Dream made some sort of sound, a mix of a scoff and a whine but Y/n didn't comment on it, just glowing with heat in her cheeks.

"Leave before I don't let you," he said softly and the heat only grew.

"Goodnight, Dream," she pressed, the tone in her voice letting him know he was being a tease. "Thanks for... thanks for your tweet. And for everything you said earlier."

"Of course. Sorry that you have to see those kinds of things a lot."

"It's okay when I have people like you."

"People like me? What does that mean?"

"Just.... people like you." Cute, sweet, kind, genuine people who make her heart flutter.

She could hear his smile in his words and she figured he knew the unspoken words in her thoughts, the ones she was saying without saying. "Okay. Goodnight, Y/n."

"Goodnight."

**********

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[king-star]

hii! can you please make a natasha x reader fic where they both have been dating for a while and it's natasha's birthday and the reader surprises her with a brand new suit that she made herself and nat cries bc she never got a meaningful gift and the reader also surprises her with cake and more romantic gifts. you could make the reader tony's sister so it would make more sense that she's good at making suits but you don't have to!! thank you sm i need sum cute natty 😫

Birthday Suit

Warning: Use of the pet name Sunflower,

Match: Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Genre: Fluff

A/N: So this one was fun. I hate my birthday but this actually was cute. I’m trying a new way of presenting the dialogue. aesthetically it looks better but I’m not sure how it reads. I've seen other authors do the dialogue on completely seperate lines so just lmk if this is good.

Word Count: ~2.5 k

Summary: It’s Natasha's birthday, and despite her acting like she hates it you shower her with love.

The smell of cooking cake fills the compound. Even from the workshop, where you are, the sweet scent permeates the air. You have been baking for long enough to know what that smell means, the cake is almost done.

You check the clock on the wall. 2:44. Nat would be home at 5.

“Shit. I need to get this done,”

You shake your head and set down your wire cutters. The list of everything you need to get done before she arrives rolls through your mind.

It was her birthday. She didn’t know her actual birthday so years ago she made one up. The chosen date was a closely guarded secret she only shared with those she trusted most. For the most part the assassin didn’t even celebrate. When you had asked a week prior what she wanted to do she had brushed you off claiming,

“I don’t really care. As long as I get to be with my love.”

She had kissed you, hoping the kiss would fog your mind from any further planning. Unfortunately for her you were a big schemer, always going as big as you could for your friend’s birthdays.

You walked out of the workshop, making one last longing look at her unfinished gift on your messy work table. No one was around today. The one Saturday everyone had off a month. Natasha had gone shopping with Wanda, a plan conncocted to give you plenty of time to get everything ready.

“Friday do you mind turing the oven off?”

you asked the A.I. as you headed down the hallway.

“Of course Agent Y/L/N,”

entering the kitchen you picked up a discarded list of everything that needed to be done. Two items were crossed off “Bake the cake, movie fort.” The unmarked items looked at you teasingly and you felt anxiety rise in your chest. What if you didn’t get everything done and this birthday made Natasha hate birthdays even more? You shook your head trying to chase off the thoughts and went to the oven.

“One perfectly baked chocolate cake coming up,”

grabbing an oven mitt you pulled the cake out of the oven and placed it on the counter. Carefully you coerced the cake from the pan and set it on the cooling rack.

Back when Wanda and you ventured into the baking realm you had begged Tony to put in a floor to ceiling blast chiller. The kind that was always on baking competitions. He reluctantly agreed, with the price of always having to give him a taste of your creations. The freezer was immensely helpful in tight circumstances. You were more than grateful for it now.

You set your cake into the freezer and went to the pantry to pull out all the ingredients you needed for icing. You poured the powdered sugar and placed the butter into the bowl. When you turned on the mixer a cloud of sugary powder exploded in the kitchen. You blinked and licked your lips. Bringing a hand up to wipe your face, you laughed hard. Sugar covered the entire counter and floor beneath you, not to mention your already grease stained clothes.

“Wow, is my little sibling doing coke in here? And without me!”

a snarky voice sounded from across the room. You opened your eyes and squinted at your older brother with a scrunched nose.

“Can it Tony,”

You growled, grabbing a towel and wiping yourself off the counter. Tony laughed at you and opened the freezer to look at what sweet treats awaited him tonight.

“A cake? Are we celebrating?”

He laughed and made a teasing face. You rolled your eyes and called out to Friday.

“Can you order me four containers of icing from the store to be delivered?”

“You got it!”

her chipper accented voice came over the audio. You threw the towel in the sink and landed a punch in Tony’s arm as you left to go change.

“You better not eat any of that cake until Nat has had at least one slice. I know where you keep those rare magic cards you think no one knows about and I will not hesitate to cut them all in half,”

He looked at you in shock. Whether it was because you knew about the secret stash or because you would dare cut them you weren’t sure. The only way to get Tony mad was to go for something he couldn’t replace with money.

“YOU WOULDN'T FUCKING DARE,”

You run away as he climbs out of his chair and chases after you. You run into your room and lay on the door to push back a Tony who was only a few steps behind you. When you finally force the door into the frame you turn the lock and fall to the floor laughing.

Angry mumbling came from the other side. Tony pounded on the door twice before, defeated. walking away. After catching your breath you pulled your sugar stained clothes off and changed into the outfit you’d set aside that morning.

“Y/N the man just arrived with the icing,”

Friday called out to your room and you nodded.

“Thank you Friday. Have him set the bags in the kitchen,”

Friday hummed in agreement. You stood up and looked in the mirror checking yourself out. When you were satisfied with the look you unlocked the door and turned to the right. You really needed to finish Natasha’s present. You wouldn’t even have time to test it properly. You really hoped the phrase “it’s the thought that counts,” was true. Her gift could be something that got you endless kisses or a real crash and burn.

Making it to the lab you set your hand on your head and groaned. You really hoped it worked. It was so pretty. You grabbed the wrapping paper and box and set it in with a kiss.

“Natty, I hope you like it,”

The gift finished the fort built, and cake baked, there was only one thing left to do, ice the damn cake. You could bake sure, but only Wanda ever mastered the art of making it look beautiful.

When you made it to the kitchen Tony was nowhere in sight and a plastic bag with what you assumed was icing was set on the counter. You pulled out a butter knife and dug in, hoping this looked somewhat edible. Wanda was the one who was skilled at decorating. You could make the elaborate pastry chef treats, but you could never handle the finer details of making it look pretty.

~

You were in the workshop when Friday alerted you that Wanda and Natasha were home. A feeling similar to anxiety or excitement fluttered in your chest. This was the first time you’d celebrated her birthday with your girlfriend. You wanted her to like birthdays again. To feel as special and loved as you can pour out for her.

“Thank you Friday. Please tell them I’m in the workshop and will be heading to the game room shortly,”

You set down the gauntlet you’d been fixing while waiting for them and brushed off your outfit. Your eyes searched over the shirt for stains, and when you were satisfied you were clean you headed to your “party”.

Wanda was the first to come in. She threw her hands to her face and “oood” and “aweeed” over the spread you had out.

“Y/N your cake! it’s…. adorable,”

you punched her in the shoulder with a frown. She fell over laughing.

“I TRIED! and I’m sure it tastes amazing.”

you crossed your arms and pouted. She sat back up still laughing and patted your back.

“She’ll love it Y/N. Even if it had ‘fuck you Nat’ written on top she’d love it,”

you smiled at the complement and stopped pouting. You were explaining the technology behind Nat’s present when the woman of the hour finally walked in.

“What is all this? Are y’all having a party? and didn’t invite me,”

she sat down next to you intertwining your fingers with hers and kissing your shoulder. You smiled as the excitement anxiety mix returned.

“Actually…. it’s for you,”

You smiled and kissed her hands. She looked genuinely surprised. You really hoped the feeling was happy excitement.

“oh- Y/N y-you remembered? and you didn’t have to do any of this. I thought I told you i didn’t care to celebrate,”

you felt Wanda stand up to leave with a pat on your shoulder. You smiled up at her and turned back to Natasha.

“I know I know, but I wanted to do something special. You love me so well and work so hard all the time. You deserve a day that’s unapologetically about you,”

You knew if Natasha didn’t have such complete control of her emotions she would be crying. The agape mouth gave that away. You smiled and leaned forward pulling her into a deep, intimate kiss. Feeling her smile against your lips you pulled away and leaned your forehead against hers.

“I love you Natashka. I will do anything to make you feel like Queen of the world,”

with that she started crying. You frowned and wiped away the tears.

“I really hope those are happy tears,”

she nodded quickly and smiled, sniffling a little.

“Very very happy tears. happy ‘I don’t know what on Earth i did to deserve you’ tears,”

“It is I who does not deserve you. The Great Black Widow. I’m just here to make you smile, it’s my life goal,”

you bowed as much as you could sitting down. Placing a peck on her lips you turned back to the presents and pointed.

“Which one should we open first?”

she pondered and then picked up a small box. Nimble fingers unwrapped the box and pulled out a Ring. You had managed to get her size weeks earlier fitting one of your own on her finger when hanging out. She looked at the little silver band with a carved sunflower at the head. A smile bloomed across her face and she hugged you.

“Oh my goodness Y/N, it’s so pretty…,”

she slid it onto her fingers, finding the one it fit best and stared at it. You hugged her shoulder and kissed her cheek.

“Well, you are my sunflower. It’s just a reminder when we are away,”

Her eyes lit up at the nickname. It wasn’t as common for you to use it as baby or sweetheart, but sunflower had always been her favourite.

She looked at the other boxes realising they were also for her. You picked up the next box, a medium sized one and handed it to her. You were saving the biggest for last.

She was just in awe and set it down before unwrapping it. Her hands snaked around your waist and pulled you flush to her. Her soft lips pressed kisses to your jaw and she set her head on your shoulder.

“Thank you so much Y/N, I- no one has done something like this for me ever,”

She hugged you tight again and then let go picking back up the present. You nodded and kissed her head. Pushing some hair out of her face you stroked her hair softly. Her hands once again unwrapped the gift. She squeaked at the sight of the book underneath the paper.

Natasha never got to read much on her own accord growing up. The red room picked out books for her education but never anything she would actually enjoy. Long ago Natasha had told you the first book she read after getting out of the red room was Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland and since then she adored the book. You had found, and paid for with Tony’s credit card, a first edition of the book. The auction was rough but you needed that book for Natasha.

Natasha stared at the book once, again jaw hanging open. She wiped her hands on her pants before handingly the book with utmost care. She flipped it over and ran her fingertips over the indented letters and gold illustration on the front.

“Y-you like it? I know you said you like Alice in Wonderland. It’s uh… actually a first edition copy. Tony was about ready to kill me when he saw me pay for the bid,”

You laughed nervously. She turned the book around again and then set it on the coffee table. She tackled you and pushed you back on the couch kissing all over your face. You yelped in surprise then grabbed her hips, catching her lips and kissing her roughly. She melted into the kiss but you pulled away.

“As much as I love this Natty, let’s open your last gift and eat some cake,”

You sat up and pulled her so she was in your lap. You placed a soft kiss to the back of her neck as she reached for the last gift. It was heavy but the assassin had no trouble lifting it.

“After that we can makeout in the fort I made. yeah?”

You wrapped your arms around her waist and pulled her close to you, rubbing circles on her thigh. She laughed and nodded, blushing profusely.

“I like that idea Y/N,”

She opened the box and pulled out the gift you put months of effort into. This time her reaction wasn’t as instantaneous. You helped her pull all the pieces out and set it on the coffee table. She looked at it slightly perplexed.

“I’m sorry… I’m not exactly sure what it is,”

She pouted and looked at you. You smiled and nodded knowing she wouldn’t. You set it out so she could see all the parts.

“Well… uh it’s a new suit. You always say that you don’t like how tight and revealing your other ones are so I kinda beefed this one up so it focuses on functionality,”

She nodded along as you explained. A look of understanding crossed her face as she pulled at the sleeves.

“ohhhhhhhh. That makes so much sense. I- Y/N what the fuck. I can’t express it enough. You are the best, you listened to me and used it to give me the best gifts i’ve ever gotten. You are the most thoughtful partner,”

You beamed. The feeling you knew she was struggling to express, it was exactly what you’d wanted her to feel. Loved, heard, appreciated, and cared for.

“I’m glad sunflower. That’s what I wanted. To make you feel as good as you deserve. D-do you mind if I tell you a bit about the features? I didn’t have time to test some of them so I will need to do that before you take it into combat,”

She nodded and slid off your lap to look at you. You patted her legs and squeezed then held at the sleeve first.

“Well of course it wouldn’t be a suit for the Black widow without gauntlets. These can change through three different modes for different levels and types of stuns also a laser if you need that for aiming,”

You flipped on the laser and pointed it at a pot then turned it back off.

“Also I made it so the suit can suction to your body but be limp to put it on. a lot easier to slip on ya know. And there is mobile but thick padding on all major points of contact for falling. Shoulders, hips, elbows, knees, the like.”

Natasha ran her hands over the surprisingly thin padding and smiled.

“Wow baby that’s… amazing,”

You nodded and picked up the bag attached to the back.

“And uh there’s a parachute built in as well as pockets up the legs, arms and boots so you don’t have to have the belts. They are sorta magnetic so you can like open them easily but when they are closed everything stays in. OH AND THE BOOTS,”

You started to ramble on about the energy absorbing boots you worked with Shuri on that would allow Nat to drop from double the height of a normal human with no damage to her knees or feet. Nat just stared at you hungirly.

“Hey baby, I seriously appreciate the gift. It’s honestly the best thing I've ever gotten. Why don’t we try it out tomorrow and you can show me EVERYTHING. For now we can… sit in the fort like you said,”

She had a cocky smile and you blushed at her antics. You nodded quickly, cutting off your rambling. Her hands found your waist and she pulled you off the couch and into the pillow fort you had built.

“I uh- got a movie for us to watch. Do you want to?”

She nodded and smiled. A look that very much meant “Yes. That's sweet, but I doubt we will be watching it.” You pulled her into your lap, setting your hands on her waist. She draped hers over your shoulders and rubbed light circles on the back of your neck. You leaned forward and trapped her lips in a kiss. Soft but full of passion.

The rest of that night was spent watching the movie and kissing. When you finally remembered the cake a slice had been taken out of it, with

“You were busy with Romanoff so I took what I was owed. The package has been moved, try getting me now little sibling.”

On a sticky note beside it. Natasha had laughed, unsure exactly what had happened but sure it was a story she would much enjoy hearing.

She had moaned over how good the cake was after laughing at how “Adorably” it was decorated.

“So Nat… did I make this birthday worth celebrating?”

She smiled wide and nodded.

“Yes Y/N, if every birthday was like this I would never want to stop celebrating.”

Tag List:

@xburningbluex @zoeyserpentluck @iamgaiiiuwu @natasharomanoffswife @fleurlovesbucky @fayhar @ymzki-haruki @lostandsearching

Natasha Tag list:

@basiclesbianbitch @stephanieromanoff @sapphicshots @madamevirgo @choni-trimberly@wlwlovesreading @i-just-like-storage @screamsin-gay @ymzki-haruki

[foxy-exy]

Cat Magnet

loosely based on that falling for ur fuckbuddy bc ur cat likes them reddit post

"My fuckbuddy is kind to my cat and my cat likes him. I’m starting to have feelings for him because of that”

Andrew Minyard might be in too deep.

Sir Fat Cat McCatterson was not named by Andrew, because Andrew did not care to name a cat. He did not, in fact, care to own a cat. But apparently, his ground floor apartment simply came with a cat — one that hung around his back door until he opened it to smoke, that slowly began migrating into the apartment until she was inside of it more than she was out, that yelled at him until she owned a food bowl, a water bowl, an absurdly expensive cat tree, and a box of at least ten toys that she liked to chew on and absolutely destroy with her back legs.

(She would then bring those thoroughly killed toys to lay at Andrew’s feet and, once more, she would yell until he gave her a nod and a pat.)

Sir was named by an over-enthusiastic Nicky on his first visit, and she had no other name. The lack of an actual, non-Nicky-bequeathed name wasn’t an issue until Andrew found himself entertaining more than simply his cousin or his twin.

Usually, the cat avoided everyone, hiding in the bedroom if Aaron was visiting, barely peering out from the kitchen for Nicky, vanishing like a ghost if Andrew ever brought a stranger home.

Other visitors were rare — occasionally, a less-than-annoying coworker, a person who worked out next to him at the gym and didn’t chatter too much. Almost never hookups. Andrew generally kept those away from his place.

But also, Andrew generally kept his hookups to a one time occurrence, or an occasional repeat at a single location. Neil Josten was an exception because hooking up with him for a bit once in Eden Twilight’s bathroom simply…hadn’t been enough. And seeing him in weird hours of the morning/night in the 24 hour grocery store, bringing him back to his car for an hour before they parted ways…hadn’t been enough. Running into him in the library and pulling him into the farthest corner of the dusty shelves to make out against encyclopedias for an indeterminate amount of time definitely hadn’t been anywhere near enough.

So Neil Josten, The Exception, was not slated to enter Andrew’s apartment, but enter it he did, after a night of increasingly heated remarks exchanged at a back table of Eden’s, after enough time staring at each other as they sipped their drinks, surrounded by too many people. After Andrew had finally leaned in to whisper, “Follow me.”

When Andrew went to retrieve his coat, it was with Neil’s too-warm, staticky presence at his back, electrifying Andrew’s step into the parking lot. Neil’s own quiet footsteps did not fade from behind him, like Andrew had hoped. And when Andrew unlocked the car and turned around to raise an eyebrow at him, Neil Josten merely raised an eyebrow back and smiled.

“Are you coming?”

“Hopefully,” Neil said, as he slid past Andrew towards the passenger side. As he had accepted being pulled back into a hard kiss for a little too long.

A short car ride later, Neil was being pulled into Andrew’s apartment in a similar manner, only, instead of moving with any kind of poise, Andrew stepped backward into his apartment, beginning to strip Neil’s jacket off and — promptly fell over Sir Fatcat McCatterson.

Sir howled like she was being killed and shot under the couch. And the traitor Neil Josten, standing in Andrew’s doorway, staring down at a sprawled-out Andrew, laughed.

“You’re a menace,” said Andrew, as Sir crept back out to sniff at his nose, and he wasn’t sure whether he meant her or his visitor. “She isn’t even my fucking cat.”

Neil looked around at the feathered catnip toys scattered around the living room and raised an eyebrow. “Cat sitting?”

“Uninvited occupant.” Andrew sat up and gently shoved away the white fluff ball, and curiously, impossibly, Neil went down on a knee to hold out a finger, and Sir ran to him like he was the one returning home.

“What’s your name?” Neil murmured in a soft voice that Andrew had never heard before, and abruptly, Andrew remembered that she did not in fact have a name he wanted to tell anyone, much less a…something. A fuckbuddy. An Exception.

But Sir was purring like a fucking motorboat, rubbing her face all over Neil’s hands, and Neil was smiling as she balanced herself on his knee to sniff his nose, too. And Andrew chewed back something budding in his chest at his cat being stupidly clingy to…whatever Neil was…and said, “Sir.”

“Sir?” Neil looked at him.

“’s her name,” Andrew muttered, then, quieter, “Sir Fat Cat McCatterson.”

Neil took the invitation Sir was giving him and buried his face into her back, but Andrew couldn’t miss the glimpse of lips pressed together over a grin, or the shaking of his shoulders.

“I didn’t name her,” Andrew said, and ignored just how similar his tone sounded to Aaron’s sullen one. “My cousin did. She doesn’t have another name.”

“It’s a great name,” Neil said a little too earnestly to Sir as he emerged from her fluff, scratching behind her ears and sinking his fingers into her ruff. She purred agreeably and licked his chin.

“Shall I leave you alone with the cat?” Andrew shoved to his feet and tossed his keys towards the entryway table, shucking his coat off onto the back of the couch.

Neil looked up, rising to his feet to toe off his shoes with a smirk. “She’s not what I came for.”

“Good,” Andrew said, and tugged on his wrist to lead him towards the bedroom.

***

Neil Josten was supposed to be An Exception, not A Regularity. Not A New Staple of Andrew’s life. He wasn’t supposed to be a number in Andrew’s phone to text, wasn’t supposed to be an ‘are you free’ away from showing up on Andrew’s doorstep. And he wasn’t supposed to be a welcome, familiar sight on Andrew’s couch — Sir curled in his lap, her eyes slits, her approval of his presence loud enough to deafen.

Andrew definitely wasn’t supposed to carefully shift his greedy cat away across the couch so that he could slot himself between Neil’s legs to try and kiss away whatever the fuck had him feeling so warm at seeing Neil there.

“Who made you Cat God,” he murmured against Neil’s lips when Sir growled her displeasure at being unseated from Neil’s lap.

“Guess your cat just loves me,” Neil mumbled into his mouth, gathering fabric at Andrew’s shoulder with one hand as he pressed closer. Only…Neil’s other arm crept around Andrew’s body, but his hand was mysteriously absent as Sir’s angry meows cut off.

Andrew broke away and turned to find Neil’s other hand occupied with stroking Sir’s head.

“You really only use me for my cat, don’t you?”

“If it helps, you’re a welcome bonus,” Neil grinned, stretching to try and capture Andrew’s lips again.

Andrew pressed a hand over his mouth instead. “Get your own pet. Sir is mine.”

Neil raised a challenging eyebrow. “Last I heard, she was an uninvited occupant.”

And you weren’t supposed to look so right in my apartment, Andrew didn’t say, just sat back on his heels to pull his cat onto Neil’s chest where he could try to recapture her attention. It worked, kind of. She was half distracted by Neil’s hair being in grooming distance, but she let Andrew scratch under her chin and gave him an appeased look.

“If I got a cat…would you come with me to pick it out?”

Andrew stopped scratching.

“And figure out a name,” Neil mused, smoothing back Sir’s whiskers. “After all, we can’t have you completely showing them up with your name, Sir, can we?”

“I didn’t name her,” Andrew said again, but he was buzzing.

Helping Neil choose a cat. So that was…acceptable to do. Naming it.

“What do you think, Andrew?”

And Neil was right there, peering up at him through thick fur, with a small smile.

“Yes,” Andrew said.

***

King Fluffkins did not last long in Neil’s apartment. He didn’t seem to like how empty it was — much like Neil, he much preferred taking up permanent occupancy in Andrew’s bed, next to Sir.

And Andrew…he’d picked up three strays, perhaps. Hadn’t asked for them, hadn’t planned for them. They’d moved into his life and his home in a whirl of moving boxes that emptied into cat-box-forts and armchairs that turned into cat-bed-holders and bookshelves that became cat-toy-hiding-places.

But Sir, King, Neil — those three strays were his.

-

you can find more aftg fics on my ao3!

[momenacesage]

so,, hanseo and miri am i right. the ending never happened so take this headcanon-y / illiterate fic of thoughts as crumbs !!

okay, so, i was thinking, the reason why miri and hanseo don't get together straight away when they both realise their feelings is bc miri says no. don't get me wrong, hanseo has a lot of loyalty and love to give, and he's ready to give it to her. but she disagrees, bc she pushes him to talk through his traumas and realise where he sits in all of it. she wants him to understand himself first bc he's never had the chance to put himself first. she doesn't believe that it would be healthy with his current mental state to jump into another connection so quickly. instead, they take the time, they sit and study so that he can get better at being the chairman, she strokes his hair and protects him from his night terrors whenever he accidentally falls asleep at her place, and he talks to a third party to pinpoint who exactly he is amongst all the messes he's been forced through. she reminds him that there's a little jang hanseo sitting inside of him, in a little locked room that he's kept to himself because he doesn't want to see his true self get abused when his brother has taken everything else from him. he wanted to keep that side of him to himself, at least there was something that he could protect. honestly, going through therapy, he allows himself to realise that the idea of unlocking that room absolutely terrifies him. bc what if he retreats back into that dark place again? what if he allows himself to care for miri but he can't protect them like he couldn't protect his parents, or anyone else around him? and it takes a lot of effort to even get there.

but miri takes him aside, brushes her hand against his and tells him that she loves him for the first time. mind you, this is about a year after the events of the show, but they've been growing side by side this whole time, and when miri loves, she falls deeply. she realises now that she was so absorbed in the thrill of liking someone like vinny, after all, everyone seemed to be romantically interested in that man. but she understands that there wasn't really any truth to it. she's found it hard in the past to feel attachments or really any sort of attraction to people, living a very secular life. so that's why, when she sees these very visceral reactions to the man's looks, she honestly couldn't help but internally look at him the same way. it's like the awe that one may feel when they view a great piece of art, or an amazing scene in a film. there's always a disconnect between the viewer and the subject at hand. but it was a different matter when it came to her puppy.

she'd remembered the first time that she saw him, ducking behind pillars, looking like he was trying to be some goofy spy in that smart suit of his. he'd raise a hand to swipe away a few strands that would fall across his forehead and she couldn't help but wish that she knew what it was like to run her fingers through his hair. the attraction was like a lightning bolt that shot straight through her spine - and that was terrifying to her. so the initial times, she finds that she doesn't purposefully try to interact with the man. happy to stand and observe. miri has gotten so used to being the observer. never the participator.

that changed when he got himself sent to the hospital after being shot. the residents whispered behind palms about how the young man had saved their infamous lawyer pair, but she couldn't help but curse the italian. she knows of his prowess, she knows that he has ten times the fighting ability compared to hanseo. she would stomp back to her studio, something wild spreading across her mannerisms - utterly confusing any other resident around.

in all honesty, she's never been one for hospitals. but she makes hanseo food everyday. she doesn't trust whatever they give patients in hospitals anyway, and she knows that she has a few cooking tricks up her sleeve. they never really see each other, and she has always asked another resident to take the food to him. (a different one every time. she doesn't really know how she'd respond if anyone ever questioned her actions, especially when she's not completely sure why she's doing what she's doing either ... ) it takes a couple of days, but she slowly moves to his rhythm. taking notice of the foods that he likes, the ones that he didn't. now stopping outside of his hospital room to peer through the little window, elated at the look of sheer happiness that spreads across his puppy-dog features every time he sees a visitor with an entourage of containers for him. (maybe this is where his pet. name came from). even as things become a bit more normal, and he finds himself over in the plaza more often, the two would continue to peak glances at each other. her, wanting to see him smile like that again. him, mildly hurt that the only girl who had been playing on his mind for months had not gone to see him in the hospital. it's only after he finally asks her, and she abruptly poses whether he would like to study with her every night, does one of the other residents let miri's daily cooking habits slip.

she notices the distinct shift in his behaviour towards her, but he won't ever discuss the new nugget of knowledge till years later, and she'll get flushed and embarrassed at the fact that he's known all this time.

anyways, it takes a year and a half of talking twice a week to crack down on the deepest fears that hanseo has held onto for so long. all the residents know when it's happened bc they see the visible change. he's similar to how he's always been, but it seems like there's something lighter about him. like there's something that has been finally put to rest; the man looks like he has found a little bit of the peace that he deserves, at very last. when he visits the plaza, he's gotten rid of the stiff suits in dark colours. this rigid business attire had been his method of camouflaging into a wall of corporate faces - maybe his brother would aim a sharp object at the wrong person, one of those that he had cloned himself into looking like around him. it worked on some occasions. but this experience had taught him that these clothing decisions had become survival for him, and that was surely not a sustainable way to continue living. so most residents would stop to flick their eyes over the young man as he passes. his simple caramel turtleneck and blazer combo seeming too settled in the middle of the two extremes that the male usually fell in between.

rumour has it, the man literally dipped the apple to his eye, the woman who had waited for him to get healthy for a year and a half, the only sun he sees, nearly off of her feet when he steals their first kiss. they'd waited this long for it to occur, they may as well make it magical.

( are these crumbs okay?? hes not dead!! nope, that was false!! that never happened!!)

[legacysam]

It’s a day late for the fic challenge with @fieryfurniss, but it’s almost 3k instead of like... 500 so I think I’m okay with that. Completely unedited bc I am TIRED and I want to at least draft today’s fic before bed so I’m not TOO far behind. Anyway I have feelings about season 4 Martin, enjoy:

[SOUND OF SHUFFLING PAPERS]

MARTIN

Oh. Oh, hello. Suppose you’re all ready, aren’t you? Do you... I mean, we’re going to record the statements, it’s kind of what we do around here. You don’t have to keep turning up all spooky-like and turning yourselves on, we aren’t that bad at our jobs. I mean, not that performance reviews are... standard here, but still.

Do you just, do you enjoy it? Do you... I dunno, feed on this stuff? Eventually going to evolve into a, a boombox or something, like a tape recorder pokemon?

No. No, I suppose not. Probably for the best. Only just starting to get used to you at this size...

[CLEARS THROAT]

Alright, so. Martin Blackwood, assistant to Peter Lukas, Head of the Magnus Institute, recording statement #0070105. Statement of Marina Adamos, given first of May, 2007.

Statement begins.

MARTIN (STATEMENT)

It started in January, right after I got back from my parents’. Or, maybe a week or so after. Came back right after Christmas, it was just too much in that awful little house will the whole family there, all the nieces and nephews and my gran going on about why didn’t I have kids yet, all those people and since I’m the single one, I got the couch for the duration, might as well have booked a hotel really. In any case, got through the holiday, answered all the usual questions, took the dog for a lot of long walks, and got out of there as soon as I decently could.

I don’t mean to sound awful, I love my family, I do. I just get used to the quiet here, in my own place, and when we’re all together it’s a bit... overwhelming.

In any case, I was back in Exeter, getting good and settled in for the rest of winter. I’ve been writing my doctoral thesis, and I’d been at it for... god, must be four years now, four and a half maybe? And I finally got a grant to just sit down and write for a year. No teaching, no committees, just me and the thesis and field trips to a few of my favorite archives. Not this one, sorry. Don’t think I’d even heard of this one until last week.

Anyway, I suppose there was part of me that... I don’t know, maybe missed home? Had some lingering feelings about home, anyway, made my flat seem too empty to get proper work done, and I thought a change of scene might be helpful to get my gears going again after the break. There’s a cafe on the corner across from my flat, one of those that’s coffee during the day and wine and beer at night, can’t miss a chance at getting all the university students in for their various vices. Vices including poetry, apparently.

I didn’t know it was an open mic, obviously, or I never would have stepped foot in the place. Awful tradition, listening to nineteen-year-olds go on about being hopelessly in love as if anybody you date at that age is some grand romance. I almost preferred the angry feminist ones about getting felt up on the tube. I’d already dragged my notebooks over there, though, and in fairness the wine was really good, so I stayed. I had a table at the side, well out of mic-range, and once I got started working I could tune it out alright. I think the only thing that interrupted me was somebody asking if they could take one of the chairs from my table, which was great, actually. Kept anybody from being tempted to join me.

It was maybe an hour or two later that one of the readers got my attention. I still can’t figure out why. He was nothing special, just some nervous, chubby lad whose friends must’ve had to shove him up onstage, because he looked absolutely mortified being there. Though thinking back, I don’t remember seeing anybody he seemed to be with. Nobody cheering him on or anything. Dunno, maybe he was just braver than he looked.

I don’t remember much about the poem he read. It was long, I know that. But there was a bit in there that I don’t think I’ll ever forget. I don’t think I can forget it. He wasn’t looking at me when he read it, but it felt like he was standing at my table reading directly at me, like there was nobody else in the room, and not in a romantic way. In a really scary way, like when you accidentally make eye contact with somebody who’s been staring at you. But he was just looking at his notebook, and he said, “the winter snow that falls at night will cover us in purest white. The sun that comes at break of day will melt the snow and us away.”

It was spooky, I don’t think it fit with the rest of the poem, but I don’t remember any of that. Just those lines. I’m not a nervous sort of person, but I didn’t want to hear anymore, I just got up and left. I sat on my couch the rest of the night watching outside, waiting to see if it snowed. I don’t... I don’t remember seeing the guy leave the cafe, though. I don’t remember seeing anybody leave, but I must have fallen asleep at some point, so maybe that’s why.

I knew I’d been asleep because when I looked outside again, there was snow on the ground. A lot of it, and it was still snowing hard, and all I could think was “the winter snow that falls at night...” I could have strangled the guy, to be honest. Maybe if I’d seen him again I would have, or at least given him a piece of my mind about his creepy poetry.

Anyway I don’t know if it was his fault, what happened. Maybe it was all in my head from the start. That’s what anybody I tell seems to think, anyway. “Oh, poor Marina, the thesis pressure got to her. Such a shame.” Maybe it’s better if they think that.

I didn’t... I didn’t go out again until late the next day. It never got properly light, anyway, just that sort of glowy grey you get when street lights bounce off the snow and clouds. I stayed in and tried to work. It was... maybe 3 or 4 in the afternoon before I checked my phone. It was weird, normally I got loads of texts and things from my parents after I left from a visit, like they were trying to make it longer, you know? But I hadn’t gotten any. No missed calls, either. Everything was just... quiet. It didn’t worry me, I just figured with the snow people were taking a day off and curling up on the couch and not doing anything. I certainly wasn’t, kept reading the same passages over and over. That damn poem kept getting tangled up in them, I’d try to copy something out and find myself writing about snow and people melting.

Late in the afternoon I decided to go for a walk. Quit being a chicken about it and go out in the snow, see everything was normal and all that. And it was. I walked by houses and saw the lights on in the windows, shops were open with people behind the counters, just nobody shopping, really. It looked like I was the only one out, but that’s fair enough in a snowstorm, isn’t it?

So I went home and watched some reality cooking show until I fell asleep.

It was... different when I woke up. Still no messages on my phone. I was starting to think there was something wrong with it, so I opened up my contacts to call somebody and test it and... there was nothing. No contacts. No old messages. Just like as if the phone was brand new. I still know my dad’s number, of course, so I punched it in to call him but it just rang and rang, never went to voicemail. Mum’s too. It had to be broken, right? Factory reset or something, took it back to before it was programmed to make calls properly maybe? I told myself that anyway, though saying it now it sounds stupid.

I put the phone in my pocket and went to look out the window and... the snow was gone. I don’t mean it was melting, I mean it was sunny out and the street was dry. The sidewalks were dry. There wasn’t even any of that grey-yellow slush in the grass by the road, nothing. Like there hadn’t been any snow or rain or anything in days. And there was nobody out.

I told you, I don’t spook easily, I’m not nervous, but I was getting nervous then. Just a low level sort of adrenaline, I was not panicking, I was just... everything was weird and I still had that poem stuck in my head, and I wanted to make sure it was all just some fucked up coincidence, you know?

So I went to the cafe. It was the only thing I could think to do. I think I told myself I was going to borrow their phone, but I don’t think that was really the plan. I think I was looking for... evidence. Evidence of something.

There was nobody in the streets. Nobody. Not in cars, nobody in their yards. I couldn’t even see anyone through the windows. It was like everyone had left without me. Even the cafe, which should have been packed on a day like that, there was nobody. The door was unlocked and the lights were on, but I couldn’t find a single person. I tried to call my parents again. No answer.

I did find the open mic sign up from that night, though. They kept those in a binder by the register. I didn’t recognize any of the names, but I kept it anyway. You can have it, it just spooks me carrying it around, but I couldn’t think what else to do with it.

I don’t... I’m not sure I can properly explain how I felt in that moment. I stole a scone. Didn’t even think twice, just took it out of the case. Definitely tasted like it had been in there more than a day, but it didn’t really register with me. I sat in the window like that for ages, watching the street, just cold. I was thinking about how big whatever this was might be. Was I the only person left in Exeter? In Devon? Was it bigger than that? Had I missed an evacuation notice, was there some natural disaster coming? I’m not religious, but I had a school friend who was, and I wondered if maybe I was the only one terrible enough to be given a miss at the rapture. I was desperate to find something, some explanation, something sensible that would put the world back on track.

That was when I noticed the water in the street. Just a bit at the edge where something hadn’t drained properly, and it looked like it was moving. I went out to see, and it... Listen this is going to sound mad, and I’m sorry, but you’re just going to have to take my word for it that it’s true. It was... there were hands in the water. I don’t mean like physical hands, I mean it was as if people were standing over the water waving at it, and it just made waves of reflections of hands. It wasn’t trees, or clouds, or me, it was in the water. That was when I started to run.

I was in and out of shops, went in and out of people’s houses, through yards, everywhere I could think where people should be. I went to the university and opened every office and classroom door in the Washington Singer building. My advisor’s desk had a cup of tea on it, like she’d just stepped out, but it was stone cold and there was a ring above the tea like it had been sat there a while. She practically lives in that office. Something about that, that damn cup of tea, that broke me a little.

I didn’t know where to go. I sat on the steps outside and just watched the empty world. There were birds and things just like there always were, but there was no movement that could possibly be a person. No sound like a human voice. I think... I started to think about whether I ought to go home, barricade myself in and hope that people came back, or if it would be better to go looking. I didn’t have a car, but my landlady did. I knew where she kept her keys and everything. It wasn’t as if she was using it.

I laughed at that. I don’t know why, but I started laughing, sitting there all alone on campus, laughing at the idea of stealing my sweet old landlady’s car. I’d have to leave a note, I thought. She’d think she just forgot where she parked it and she’d go mad looking for it. If she came back. If that water...

I think I tried to ignore what I’d seen in the water, and the way the snow melted, and that damn poem. It was still in my mind, but I had closed off that part of it because it wasn’t helpful. It wasn’t helpful to think that maybe some stammering undergraduate with a terrible poem had somehow magicked the world into...whatever this was. I can’t remember how I locked it all away, but I remember walking down the street toward home just... muttering to myself. “No, no, no...” The kind of muttering that makes you look crazy to passersby. But of course there weren’t any. I could say whatever I liked and no one would know. I could stay in my flat for a week and no one would bother me to come out with them. I could ignore my phone and not miss any messages from my parents. They always worried if I took too long to answer them.

I yelled “FUCK” once, in the middle of one of the bigger intersections, just to see how loud I could be. It hurt my throat how loud I could scream.

I wonder if that was what did it, actually. Looking back, it was right after that that I saw the dog. I don’t know how that would make a difference, but it makes as much sense as anything. Just a glimpse, but I could see a tail and a trailing leash going around a corner a block away, and without thinking I started to follow.

I’d already done a lot of walking and running that day, but I think that was the fastest I’d ever gone in my life. All I could hear were my feet hitting the pavement, and then I started to hear the sound of tags on a collar. And then he was in sight, a big lab like my parents’, running full out, tail wagging like he was playing his favorite game. I didn’t think I could possibly catch him, but I kept going, because what choice did I have? I chased him through yards and parks and down empty streets, and when I finally got close enough, just as he was about to zig zag away again, I threw myself on the ground and got hold of the leash. I still have a scar from my elbow hitting the sidewalk.

It was... like when you unpause a movie and it’s not just that the world starts moving again, it’s like something that was just a picture becomes alive again. I heard a voice behind me, and a woman pulled up in a minivan thanking me for catching her dog, the kids were so upset when he got away from them. And then the kids were there, piling out of the van, and a lady came out of the house we were in front of and offered me a bandage for my arm. There was traffic again, I could hear music from a couple streets over. It was all back.

I didn’t go to the cafe again. I just... couldn’t. I couldn’t risk it. Whatever happened to me, wherever I was that day, I knew it all started there. I wasn’t going to give it a chance to get me again.

I don’t... I don’t know if this is helpful for you, I don’t really know what you do here aside from collect creepy stories, but I just. When I heard about you I felt like I should tell you my story, maybe get it off my hands. I’ve got things I want to do with my life, you know? Time to stop thinking about all this. Time to let it go.

Statement ends.

MARTIN

[LONG PAUSE]

The... the list from the cafe is here. It’s... I... yes. Yes, my name is on it and yes, I used to go read there, but this isn’t... I don’t recognize those lines, I didn’t write them. I didn’t... I wasn’t...

I think I need to talk to Peter about this. I don’t want to. If the Lonely was... I don’t think I want to know. I don’t want to have been... I dunno, destined for this. I don’t want any of it. I...

[DEEP BREATH]

I... I’ll ask Melanie if she can do the follow up on this one. I think she’ll understand.

End... end recording.

[mssjynx]

flirting

basicallyido407 fic .   no warnings .   1481 words .  

. heres an old req from my other blog bc theres not enough content for this pairing x

---

Tyler dreaded working Mondays to Thursdays. His job at the station wasn’t hard, it wasn’t annoying, it wasn’t tedious - he was fine working on Fridays and Sundays. But getting asked to work all day Tuesday and Wednesday was the worst thing he’d ever agreed to.

He got there nice and early, punctual and hopeful that maybe one of the pair would call in sick. Maybe he won’t have to worry about it. Maybe he’ll have a painless day where he could just get his work done and talk to Craig.

Marcel was the first of the two to arrive, perfectly on time with a face that told the entire building he was not a hundred percent awake. He sat at his desk, opened his computer and allowed his head to find rest on his keyboard.

Tyler returned his focus to reading through the file Evan had dropped on his desk when he’d arrived. He paid only half of his attention to the paperwork as he watched the numbers of his digital clock tick through. When the screen flashed 8:23am, the glass doors swung open and Tyler’s head dropped to his desk in disappointment.

Scotty walked in, late like every other day, Starbucks coffee in hand and grin on his face. He was naturally attractive and charming and strolled through the station with ease and confidence. His tardiness was expected and the most anyone did was roll their eyes. At Tyler’s upset glare, he just winked, and continued up to Marcel’s desk.

The black man didn’t even look up as the drink was set down on the table beside him. Tyler watched as Scotty leant back against his co-worker’s desk, smirk one they’d all seen before. “Good morning, Sleeping Beauty. Tired, are we?” he asked, tease in his voice as Marcel pushed himself upright.

Dark brown eyes seemed to study the Caucasian man for a second before his focus fell to the coffee. After a few sips, he found the energy to offer a flirty smile to the man and Tyler slammed his head down on his desk, preparing for the worst.

“Do you work at Starbucks, Scotty?” he asked, sipping his drink again in acknowledgement. A grin crawled across his face and he leant closer to his co-worker. “Because I like you a latte.”

Scotty’s smile didn’t falter, focused on no one but Marcel. He rolled his eyes, grin soundless and lacking any sort of response that could incorporate his humour and pretend boredom. Instead, he pushed away from the desk and walked across the aisle to his own. Marcel shamelessly watched his butt as he walked away, taking another sip.

“Did you sit in a pile of sugar?” he offered, ever persistent, and Scott’s gaze slowly slid back to his as he opened up his laptop and pulled the papers on his desk towards him. There was nothing anyone could do to take the amused little smile from his lips. He could tell Marcel was happy with himself, his lips pulling back to show shiny white teeth in a grin. “Because you’ve got a sweet ass.”

Scott shook his head, unlocking his laptop. “Got anything original in that big head of yours?” he inquired and the other let out a chuckle as he finished off the last of his drink and leant on the closed file sitting on his desk.

He wiggled his eyebrows at Scott who pretended to focus on his job. “I’ll show you something original if you let me take you home,” he fired back, not a second of hesitance or thought. It was natural for him to flirt with the man who pretended he didn’t care. He could see the amusement in his co-worker’s eyes, could see the interest that he barely tried to hide. There was always a glimmer of hidden laughter in those swirls of blue that showed itself with each dorky line Marcel delivered.

His stare didn’t stray for a long few moments before Scotty turned, lips pouted in thought. He pointed a thin finger at Marcel and tilted his head. “Are you my appendix?” he asked

“Why, do you have a funny feeling in your stomach that makes you want to take me out?”

Scotty hummed in thought before shaking his head. “No… No, I think it’s because you’re absolutely useless and all you do is cause me pain.” He smiled sweetly as Marcel threw his head back with a laugh. He obviously meant nothing that he’d said, knowing his co-worker wouldn’t listen to him even if he did. His subtlety was never that great, not that it ever mattered when it came to being attracted to Marcel: he was an even worse flirt than Scott.

The back door opened, Luke walking in with a stack of files beneath his arm. He dropped several on each desk, ignoring Scott because of the pile he already had waiting for him. The boss stopped between the two flirting workers and eyed Marcel’s charming grin with distrust. He dropped several files beside his laptop. “Get some shit done today, Cunningham. If you’re going to flirt, don’t do it in my station.”

“Yes Sir,” he said respectfully, Luke shaking his head as he walked away. Marcel leaned to the side, winking at Scotty. “How about I take you on a date and we can flirt there?” he offered with a grin.

“Cunningham!” He flinched, sitting back in his seat and opening the file in front of him. His focus sharpened, typing on his laptop as he wrote down information and sorted through the papers clipped in together between the folded piece of weathered yellow card.

Tyler thought for a second that the storm may have passed, that possibly the rest of his day would be one of peace and silence for once. His hopes lasted ten minutes until Scotty cleared his throat.

“Alright.” The simple word had both Tyler and Marcel looking to him in confusion. The black man blinked, brows furrowed.

“Alright-what?” he asked.

“Alright,” Scotty paused, turning to him, “pick me up at seven.” Marcel’s brows raised. “You can take me on a date and we’ll flirt there.”

It took the shocked man a few seconds before his look of confusion and surprise morphed into one of excitement and satisfaction. His grin was blinding and it spread to Scotty’s own lips too as the other couldn’t hide his smile. “You’re serious?” Marcel asked, nodding hopefully. Scott nodded too, filling out the page with data from his screen. “Does this mean I can call you my boyfriend?”

Scotty laughed, shaking his head. It was no surprise the other would instantly be pushing for a little bit more. “We’ll see how I think of tonight,” he commented, knowing full well he was going to accept.

“How about ‘Babe’, can I call you ‘Babe’?” he suggested. His eyes sparkled at the smile Scotty wore.

“Yeah, alright; ‘Babe’ is tolerable,” he sighed, acting like it was more of a burden than anything. Both he and Marcel knew how awful an actor he was when he couldn’t pull the smile off his lips.

“Awesome, babe. I can’t wait for tonight,” Marcel said, licking his lips to try and get rid of the big grin on his face. He shot Scotty a glance before adding, “babe.”

Blue eyes rolled and the two smiled for the entirety of the day. Tyler suffered through the little smiles and lingering stares that weren’t just of longing and attraction, but more of excitement and anticipation. When Scotty got up to leave, things packed and bag over one shoulder, Marcel leaned across and smacked his ass, making him jump in surprise.

“Marcel, I swear to fucking Christ,” he uttered, cheeks pink in embarrassment as he glared at his to-be boyfriend.

“Sorry, babe,” he whispered back, grin completely unfazed and obviously not sorry in the slightest. “Can’t help myself.” He winked, collecting his own things as Scott rolled his eyes and walked past Tyler and out of the station.

Marcel followed a few minutes later, head high and walk proud with his success of the day. Both men were too caught up in their own little worlds of excitement and happiness that neither noticed Tyler’s glare and the fed-up co-worker just sighed, rubbing his eyes. Relief filled his lungs at the thought that his Tuesday was over and he could go home and sleep off the migraine his co-workers had given him.

That was, until of course, he realised it was only Tuesday and he had a whole day tomorrow to deal with both men again. He knew that after their date they would only be ten times worse. There were definitely not tears in his eyes on his drive back home; no, definitely not tears. They were… uh… he got something in his eye! In… both eyes! Yeah. That’s, uh… That’s definitely what happened. 

[ultraspideysense-blog]

Wish You Were Here (Tom Holland Smut)

request: i think it was kinda? someone wanted phone sex w tom so here we are i’m too lazy to find it but anon one’s for u babe <3

short summary: tom was a little shit this whole week about the fresh cut and it got u all hot and bothered when he finally posted a pic so u know seeing as u can’t see him phone sex will have to do

length: 1.6k words

warnings: smut

A/N: i’m sorry i know i said i was working on 2 angsty peter fics but i knew i needed to write this as soon as he finally stopped being a snake and showed us that dope cut bc goddamn it looks fucking NICE i’m so s o r r y 
pls forgive me

You toyed with yourself as you paced around your bedroom. Not knowing what exactly to do, you were at a loss. You didn’t want to cave, but at the same time you were beyond caring. The reward would be too great if you would just succumb to your wants.

Tom hadn’t only been messing with his fans all week, but you too. What started as a simple joke tweet had amassed into hysteria in his fandom. He’d initially planned on only waiting a day before showing the world a simple selfie of his new hair cut, but after seeing everyone freak out he decided to take it a step further and mess with everyone for a few days.

Despite the fact that he promised you a picture once it was done, he thought it would be funny to keep you in the dark as well. Every day that the two of you had skyped this week, he made sure a hoodie was placed securely on his head, not a strand of hair peeking out. Not even Harrison would help you when you sent him desperate texts for just one photo. The little assholes.

But, mere minutes ago your phone buzzed with a post notification on instagram. You’d been in the middle of doing some long overdue laundry, but you nearly jumped out of your skin when you saw it was from Tom’s account.

Unlocking your phone at lightening speed, you were nearly drooling once seeing the hair cut. It wasn’t as big of a change as your were expecting, but it still looked...insanely hot. And had his muscles been getting bigger? 


Fuck it, you finally decided, dialing your boyfriend. You sat on your bed, impatiently tapping your bare foot against the carpet as the ringing of your phone echoed in your ears. If he didn’t pick up, you were going to implode.

“Hey Y/N,” you heard seconds later. You groaned when it was Harrison picking up instead of Tom. Ignoring his bright greeting, you launched straight into your mission.

“Where’s Tom? Also I love how now you can talk to me since the hair’s out,” you half joked, half scolded. You could hear him laugh on the other end of the phone. 


“He stepped out for a minute, though I’m sure he’ll be overjoyed to hear from you when he’s back,” Harrison replied. You could practically hear the smirk in his voice and wanted nothing more to smack it off his face. Those little shits.

The two of you proceeded to have useless small talk about things going on in your respective lives until you heard a muffled noise from the other end that sounded like your boyfriend.

Harrison why are you on my phone? Give it here, who is it?

“Surprise bitch,” you said monotonously into the receiver.

“Y/N, darling, is everything alright?” he asked innocently as Harrison stepped out. You didn’t believe it for a second. You weren’t even mad anymore you just had an intense longing to have him by your side to fuck you senseless. 


“I need you, Tom,” you whined. “It’s not fair for you to get to tease me all damn week and then just drop this masterpiece on instagram.”

“I’m sorry Y/N, I didn’t mean to get you all hot and bothered,” he said with sympathy. He wasn’t sorry though. He had you exactly where he wanted you.

“God, I just hate you so much sometimes for pulling shit like this. But I just want you so bad,” you muttered, throwing your head back into the pillows on your bed.

“I’m all yours for the taking,” Tom quietly said, his voice dropping a few octaves. “Can you do something for me, love?”

You nodded slowly, but realized he wasn’t next to you. “Almost anything.”

“I want you to touch yourself for me. Use those hands of yours to fuck your pretty little pussy for me,” he commanded, biting his lip slightly at the mental image he was conjuring of you in your bed. “Can you do that?”


“Okay,” you whispered as you changed to speaker phone and put your phone next to you head. Tom let out a brief tsk.

“Speak up darling, I need to hear your voice. Are you gonna be a good girl for me, Y/N?” he reprimanded lightly.

“Yes Tom, I promise,” you mewled louder, slowly dragging your shorts down your legs in anticipation.

“That’s better,” he sighed contentedly. He stuck a hand down his pants, giving his shaft a few strokes and letting out a few strangled moans that made your insides quake and left your panties more soaked than they already were.

“Put two of those fingers in your mouth, get them nice and wet,” Tom ground out, as he imagined your lips around his half hard cock.

You did as he asked, letting out a small moan as you heard him fumbling with his belt buckle on the other end of the phone, sliding down his pants and boxers in one swift motion.

"God I wish I could see you right now," Tom muttered gruffly on his end of the receiver. "About to finger fuck yourself just for me, eyes glazed over in ecstasy. Those beautiful cheeks flushed in excitement."

You whimpered as his voice echoed around your small bedroom, clinging on to his every word. You heard shuffling on his end of the phone and a belt buckle, signaling that he was likely to get off on this conversation too.

"I miss you, Tom, I want you so badly. I need you so badly," you whimpered as you pulled your fingers from your mouth. 


“I know, god, I miss those lips of yours. My hand just doesn’t compare,” he laughed softly as you smiled a bit.

Your breathing hitched as Tom let out a particularly 
guttural moan while running his thumb over the sensitive head of his cock, unbeknownst to you. You closed your eyes, imagining that he was right next to you, instead of many miles away in Montreal. His voice brought you back to reality for a moment.

“Play with that sweet pussy of yours,” he commanded lightly. “Take two of those slim fingers and stroke yourself, just a little bit. Nothing too much.”

You found yourself transfixed in a small haze, doing exactly as he asked of you. Slipping a hand into your panties, you shallowly dipped a finger into your soaking pussy. Wetness flooded the cracks between your fingers, and you whined at the skin to skin contact.

“Talk to me, darling, how are you feeling?” he asked you sultrily.

“My fingers don’t compare to yours,” you pouted lightly. “But fuck, this feels good. Hearing your voice as I touch myself.”

“Mmm that’s what I like to hear,” Tom said, a smirk on his face. He took a moment to spit on his hand before placing it back on his cock, picking up the pace of his hand, his hips bucking up a little bit as he twitched.

“I wanna put them deeper, can I put them deeper?” you asked innocently. He always made you ask before letting you take yourself over completely, finger fucking yourself with all the effort you could muster.

“Go ahead, baby, play with your clit. I wanna be able to hear the sounds of your wetness being completely fucked, I want you to hear your helpless whimpers,” he said while brushing his thumb over the sensitive head of his dick again, letting out a small moan.

You obliged, finally shoving your fingers rhythmically in and out, trying to replicate some of Tom’s techniques to bring yourself to your high faster. You imagined his toned body next to yours, imagining his fingers inside of you as you would grip at one of his biceps, or his freshly trimmed hair. You whimpered into your phone instead.

“Tom,” you chanted weakly with every stroke of your fingers. You began to finally reach and brush at your g-spot, a very pointed whine coming from your throat at this newfound wave of pleasure.

“I’m right here, darling, I’m right here,” he slurred as your whine caused his dick to twitch and his hips buck up higher in his seat. Your eyes rolled back into your head as the sound of your juices against your fingers reverberated across the otherwise quiet room.

You bit at your bottom lip as you felt a small wave of excitement rushed through your body. Tom was almost as much of a mess as you were on the other end of the line. His hand was soaked with his own precum, and he was almost ready to burst.

“Are you close, honey? Are you gonna come for me soon?” he asked you, wanting to make sure that you came before him or at the same time as him. You let out a breathy moan before your mind could formulate a response to break from your lips.

“T-Tom, I don’t think I can hold on much longer,” you got out as a violent spasm shook your legs in anticipation. You were starting to see spots in your vision, your head spinning in pure ecstasy.

“Let it go for me, kitten, come all over those pretty fingers of yours. Keep those beautiful eyes open, watch yourself come undone by your own fingers,” he wheezed out, ready to reach his own high.

“I love you so much,” you all but screamed as you finally let yourself go. You tried to keep your eyes open, you really did, but it was nearly impossible with the amount of pleasure shooting through your veins.

You could hear Tom letting out a low groan that increased in volume as he released more and more. A symphony of your name and many curse words fell from his lips as he envisioned you right there next to him in Montreal.

“God, I can’t wait to have your sexy self back in my arms,” he whispered after finishing. He slowly got up to find some towels in his trailer to clean himself off with. You blushed at the thought of what he’d do to you if he actually had you at his disposal right now.

You heaved a sigh as both you  came down from your respective highs. You felt immense relief and a feeling of pure bliss. But you were still missing your boyfriend like crazy.

“I love you a lot, you know?” you said quietly after a few moments of silence. You heard Tom hum softly.

“I know baby, I know. I miss you,” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’ll come back to you as soon as I can.”

“Good. Because I miss having one of your hands wrapped around my throat while you fuck me into oblivion with that glorious cock of yours,” you replied, a small smirk tugging at your lips.

“Don’t you dare start again and tease me, darling, I’ve gotta go back to set in a few minutes,” he wearily replied. You laughed a bit.

“You’re one to talk, asshole. I still can’t believe you kept me in the dark all week with your fans, that was cold,” you pouted a bit, even though he couldn’t see you.

“It was all in good fun,” he said dismissively. You scoffed.

“Whatever you say Thomas. Just know you’ve started a war that you’re going to regret getting yourself into.”


permanent tag list: @searvhing @curly-haired-crisp @werido-fangirl @dreaming-of-the-lost @nightviolet @sunshine-raee @bitsyb21 @naybeirao @thespidersman @themusicorthemisery

please give me feedback!! what did u think!! bc i’d love to know!! idk how this turned out lol but

per usual requests are always open, but i’m moving into my dorm this week so it might take a bit. love u guys :) also shoot me an ask if u wanna be on my permanent tag list!

[plastic--hearts]

get to work

day five of ‘one day, one fic - september’

prompt: I work opening shift, but whenever i get there at 5:30 somehow you’re always already there, looking flawlessly put together. you haven’t even had your coffee yet. tell me your secrets.

pairing: binu bc i’m trash

word count: 1546

note: since I started this whole thing off a day behind, I’m probably going to post two oneshots again today! hopefully the next one will be up before midnight but I really can’t promise that

Bin wasn't a morning person. There was no possible way you could twist the definition to make it fit him. No force on Earth could force him out of bed before 9AM, at the earliest.

Well, no force on Earth other than Park Jinwoo, apparently.

“I’m really sorry, Bin, but with Minhyuk’s new schedule I really need someone to work the opening shift, at least until I can find an actual replacement.”

Bin sighed. He couldn’t argue with the worry on his manager’s face, so he just put on a smile. “That’s fine, I’ll do it.”

Jinwoo visibly relaxed before running a hand through his hair and handing Bin his new schedule. “It’s temporary, I promise.”

Bin hummed in response, eyes scanning over the chart. He had to get to the cafe at 5:30AM on weekdays, and on the weekends, it was 6:30AM.

He was going to die.

-------

Through the early morning haze, Bin could make out someone standing at the cafe door. Was it Jinwoo, making sure that Bin would get there on time? As he got closer, Bin thought of all the things he could say to Jinwoo about trust and respect, but when the person and the cafe door finally came into sight, he realised that it wasn’t Jinwoo.

“Uh, good morning,” Bin greeted the guy, fishing the keys out of the pocket of his work pants. “We don’t open till 6, you know.”

“Oh, I know,” the guy replied, a polite smile on his face. “Minhyuk used to let me sit inside while he got everything ready for the day. I won’t order until 6, I promise.”

Bin let out a snort at that, shaking his head amusedly. “Whatever you want, man, I’m too tired to care.”

He unlocked the door and entered, holding the door for the stranger and locking it behind him. Bin made his way to the back behind the counter, slipped his purple apron on, and sighed. He was barely awake, and to make matters worse, he was guaranteed to have to work. He was hoping that no one would be around for at least an hour after they opened, but apparently life doesn’t work out the way we plan it.

He then turned on the coffee machines and the little ovens and whatever else he was supposed to do before 6AM. He was mostly moving on autopilot, doing the opposite of what he used to do when he worked the closing shifts. Finally, when he was done, he glanced at the clock: 5:53AM. With a groan, he leaned his head against the wall, closing his eyes for a moment before he heard someone chuckle. He opened one eye and turned his head, looking at the guy who had been sitting there quietly all this time.

“I’m glad you find my misery amusing,” Bin muttered.

“Ah, sorry. I know it must be rough.”

“Yeah, you’re telling me,” Bin sighed, closing his eyes again. “I used to work closing shift. I hate the mornings.”

“Why did you get switched?”

“Damn Minhyuk and his dance classes.”

The stranger laughed heartily at that, causing Bin to crack a smile. “Oh yeah, he told me about those.”

“You’re friends with Minhyuk?” Bin asked. He didn’t think Minhyuk had all that many friends, and definitely not friends who showed up to cafes at 5:30 dressed impeccably.

“I wouldn’t say friends, I don’t think I’m cool enough for him, but I see him every morning, so obviously we talk.”

Bin snorted again, finally pushing himself off the wall. “Minhyuk’s not cool. He just acts like it.”

“Well, it works,” the stranger smiled, before glancing at the clock on the wall. “I think you should unlock the door now.”

“You’re right,” Bin yawned, stretching his arms up over his head before dropping them down with a sigh. He made his way across the small cafe and unlocked the door, flipping the sign from Sorry, We’re Closed! to Yes, We’re Open! “Hopefully I won’t get too many people this morning.”

“When’s Sanha coming in?”

Bin looked over at the stranger and shrugged. “I think around 8.”

He then got to take in the stranger’s appearance properly: he was wearing a white fitted button-up shirt and black pants, which wasn’t all that exciting, but looked good on his slender frame. His jet black hair was well coiffed, which only made Bin wonder when the hell this guy had woken up that morning. He had a brown leather messenger bag which he had slung over the back of his chair, but Bin figured that when he wore it, it tied the outfit together pretty well.

The two of them walked back to the counter, and Bin made him coffee before bidding him goodbye. As soon as the small bell above the door rang as the door shut behind the stranger, Bin fell onto the stool kept behind the counter, sighing deeply. Jinwoo owed him big time.

------

After about a week, Bin had finally adjusted to his new schedule. Every morning, he would be greeted by the well-dressed stranger (who he soon found out was called Dongmin), make small talk with him while he turned on the machines, and then make him coffee at 6 and wish him a good day. He began to enjoy Dongmin’s presence and to look forward to seeing him every morning. It made the shift bearable, and on more than one occasion, Dongmin had had to reach over the counter and shake Bin awake.

However, Dongmin was still a mystery to Bin. He barely knew anything about him and with every passing day he grew more and more curious.

Finally, after a few more days, he decided to ask the questions that had been running through his mind each time he saw Dongmin.

“So, Dongmin,” Bin started, looking up from the counter he was wiping clean. “Why do you come here so early every day?”

Dongmin raised his eyebrows. “I need coffee before work.”

Bin resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “Yeah, I kinda figured that one out. What- What do you do?”

“Oh, I’m a teacher,” Dongmin replied. “I teach at the elementary school a few blocks down.”

Bin nodded, resuming his cleaning. “Ah, I see.”

Silence overcame them for a moment before another question made its way into Bin’s mind. An elementary school teacher? Which meant he worked with young kids? Bin began to imagine Dongmin with little kids, smiling and laughing with them, teaching them things and being patient when they didn’t get it…

Bin needed a seat.

And the one in front of Dongmin was conveniently empty.

“Tell me more,” Bin almost demanded as he plopped down in the wooden chair across the small table from Dongmin.

“About?” he asked, looking up from his phone.

“About yourself. Do you work with younger kids?”

Dongmin smiled and put the phone down on the table. “Yeah, I’m teaching first grade kids.”

Had Dongmin not been sitting right there, Bin probably would’ve dramatically clutched at his chest due to the cuteness. “That must be a pain.”

“No, I love them.”

Oh be still my beating heart. “That’s nice.” Bin smiled, before leaning forward and resting his arms on the table. “What else? What do you like to do?”

“Why all the questions, all of a sudden?” Dongmin asked. He didn’t seem annoyed, which Bin took as a plus. “Uh, I like to read. I read a lot in my spare time.”

Bin snorted. “Wow, what a nerd.”

“Hey, I am a teacher.”

“Fair enough.” Bin shrugged.

“I also play the piano.”

Bin could picture it perfectly: Dongmin sitting behind a beautiful black piano, completely immersed in the music as the sunlight shone through the window beside him, and- “Yeah, you seem like the type.”

It was Dongmin’s turn to shrug then. “What about you? Other than work here, what do you do?”

“Well, I only just got out of college, about four months ago,” Bin explained. “And I studied dance, so there’s not much on the market for me right now, unless I try to get into some company. I’m not really interested in that though, so… I don’t know. I need a plan.”

Dongmin chuckled, running a hand through his hair. “I didn’t realise you were that young.”

“Hunh?” Bin’s eyes widened. “You can’t be that much older than me!”

“I graduated two years ago,” Dongmin explained, an amused glint in his eyes. “And I have a solid job. I might as well be older than you.”

Bin huffed, leaning back in his chair. “I can’t believe I was cooing at the thought of you with kids. You’re probably terrible with them.”

That caused Dongmin to laugh loudly, his head tipping back. “You were cooing?”

“Mhm,” Bin nodded, not letting embarrassment get to him. “Past tense.”

“Ooof. Well, I assure you, I’m great with the kids.” Dongmin then laughed gently again. “Maybe you’ll just have to come see for yourself.”

“When would that eve-”

“Since you’re not working the afternoon shift, I know you’ll have time to grab lunch with me today.”

Bin’s eyes widened and eyebrows shot up. “Are you- Is that- A da-”

“Hey, it’s 6 o’clock,” Dongmin interrupted, the smile never leaving his face. “Get to work, Bin.”

[starlillies]

lucaya fic where maya goes missing and lucas is a mess

so this prompt is really old so im very sorry about that. this monster of a drabble is a gm triangle au, bc we all know the whole maya identity crises arc was handled terribly, so this is my attempt to fix it, it takes place a few hours after maya said “you want me to go home? i’ll go home.”

“Dude, you need to decide.”

“Look, I,” he hesitated. “I think I know who I choose. I just need to talk to them.”

The boys approached the Matthew’s front door, not the window, upon Zay’s insistence. Lucas was once again baffled by the fact that they kept their front door unlocked. They walked in to see Cory and Topanga … and Katy?

“Uh, hi,” Lucas said, rubbing the back of his neck. He really didn’t need all of the parents to be here for this. “I need to talk to the girls.”

“They’re in Riley’s room,” Katy said, raising an eyebrow.

As Lucas made his way up the stairs he could hear Cory sputtering.

“You just sent him to my daughter’s room!”

“Don’t worry sir, he’s in there all the time.”

Zay needed to learn how to keep his big mouth shut. Lucas shook his head and knocked on Riley’s door.

“Come in.”

Riley had changed into her pajamas and was sprawled out on her bed reading their English assignment. She lit up when she saw him.

“Lucas!”

“Hi,” he said, glancing around the room in confusion. “Is Maya in the bathroom?”

Riley’s face fell and she looked down at her nails. “No, we had a bit of a disagreement. She went home.”

“But, her mom is still in your kitchen.” Riley’s head popped up.

“She is?”

“Yeah, and she thought Maya was up here. How long ago did she leave?”

Riley shrugged. “A few hours ago I guess.”

Lucas’ heart skipped a beat. “No one’s heard from her for hours? And no one was concerned?”

He was texting Maya before he finished his sentence. Riley’s mouth opened and shut and then she texted her too. Lucas was halfway down the stairs before she had gotten off of her bed, his phone pressed to his ear.

“C’mon, pick up pick up pick up.”

The chatter at the table died down as they heard the pair coming down.

“What’s going on?” Katy asked. “Where’s Maya?”

Riley looked at her sheepishly as Lucas cursed and redialed Maya’s number.

“We don’t know.”

­­­­­­­­­­­­

“Lucas, dude you gotta calm down.”

“How can I calm down? Maya is missing. It’s been hours since anyone heard from her and her phone is going straight to voicemail and Riley said when she left she was upset and—”

“Lucas.” Farkle grabbed him by his shoulders. “Katy went to check their apartment and she’s calling Shawn and Kermit. Riley went with Cory to check all of Maya’s favorite places and Topanga is talking to the police. We’re gonna find her.”

Lucas ran a hand through his hair and paced around Riley’s room. He hadn’t sat down or even really breathed since they realized Maya was gone.

“But what if something happened to her? What if someone took her? Oh my—someone actually could have kidnapped her. What if we never see her again? What if I never see her and get to—”

He froze. Zay raised an eyebrow. “Never get to what?”

“Nothing,” he sighed. He covered his face with his hands. “I’m just worried about her.”

“I know man. We all are.” Zay stood and put a hand on Lucas’ shoulder comfortingly.

“Yeah, that’s not gonna work. I’m getting him a Xanax.”

Zay pointed after Farkle. “That is a great idea. Try not to,” he motioned widely with his arms, “damage anything.”

Just like that Lucas was alone. He took a deep breath and dropped onto the edge of Riley’s bed. He shut his eyes to try and calm himself down, but all it did was bring up the image of Maya—her hair and her smile and the way her eyes shone when she called him Ranger Rick and—

“Huckleberry?”

Lucas’ head snapped up to see Maya kneeling, half inside the window. Her feet barely hit the ground before he had swept her up into a hug so tight that she had to turn her head to the side just to breathe.

Maya’s heart began to race as soon as he touched her—she hoped he couldn’t tell. She had taken off her jacket and he had taken off his button up and there was more skin-to-skin contact than she had ever experienced with him. It made her feel warm all over. She had never been this close to him, and the last time she was even near this close to him was—

Thinking of Texas would not do her any good right now.

“What are you doing here? Where’s Riley?”

“Looking for you,” he said, finally releasing her. She looked up at him, her mind fuzzy.

“Looking for me?”

“Maya, no one knew where you were. Your mom thought you were still here and Riley thought you were at home and you weren’t answering your phone and I—we were all worried about you.”

Maya felt her face flush and she looked away. “I turned my phone off. I didn’t really want to talk to anybody.” Then, almost imperceptibly, “To Riley.”

Lucas’ face softened. “Riley mentioned you guys had a disagreement. What happened? You guys never fight.”

She took a deep breath. “Today in art class Mr. Jackson said some things about my art, about me not having a voice or whatever. And it—it didn’t sit well with Riley I guess. We came back here and she started saying how I wasn’t me anymore because I was behaving and getting good grades and that kind of stuff, and then she told her parents and they brought my mom into it and,” she paused. She had grown quieter with every word she spoke. “They all agreed with her. They said I was … broken.”

“Maya—”

Maya waved a hand dismissively. “And then Riley got it in her head that not only was I not me anymore, but that I had turned into her. Because of our outfits and our hair and you.”

His face fell. Had he caused this? Had his inability to choose driven the girls apart? He tried to meet her eyes but she kept them directed at her hands as she picked at her nails.

“Well, I thought it was stupid and I was angry. So I left and I turned my phone off and I went back to school.”

“You were at school?” He asked incredulously. Of course she would have gone to the one place no one would ever expect to find her. She chuckled.

“Yeah. I knew that Mr. Jackson kept the art room open after hours and I wanted to see if Riley was right, if I had really lost myself. So I tried painting for a bit, and then Mr. Jackson came in. We talked and he said he had taken another look at my painting and that he loved it.”

“That’s great!” Maya made a face. “Not great?”

“Not really. He said it just had to be looked at from farther away and,” she took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “It was a purple cat. I painted a purple cat, Lucas. Riley’s right—I turned into her.”

Maya looked so small and so hurt and so defeated and it broke Lucas’ heart. He grabbed one of her hands and made sure she was looking at him.

“Maya, look at me. Riley was not right. You didn’t lose yourself and you definitely did not turn into her. First of all, it’s impossible to actually become someone else. Second of all, what was that lesson Mr. Matthews taught us, the one about the secret of life?”

“People change people,” she said softly. Lucas smiled.

“Right. People change people. You saw it with me, didn’t you? I used to be angry and violent, but meeting you guys changed that. You guys changed me for the better. You didn’t become Riley, you’ve just been influenced by her. You haven’t gotten detention in a while because you matured and you realized what was appropriate and what was crossing the line. You started getting good grades because we’re in high school and grades are important and because it feels good. Maya, we all saw how happy you were when you got that A in Spanish.”

There were tears in Maya’s eyes but she laughed.

“Just because you’ve changed doesn’t mean you’re not you. Everybody changes, especially when their teenagers. But you are still you. You still make fun of Mr. Matthews and you still make jokes in class and you still pretend to hate school. You still defend your friends no matter what and help them no matter what. You still talk to the homeless man in the subway station near your apartment and give him a dollar or leftovers whenever you can.”

The tears in her eyes began to fall and Lucas brought his other hand up to wipe them away, lingering on her cheek.

“You are still you because you are still sassy and funny and selfless and kind, and I know that because those are all only some of the things I like about you. You’re Maya, and Maya is amazing.”

Maya looked at him like he was the only other person in the world—in that moment, he was. They both knew that in the past few minutes something big had changed between the two of them.

“Do you feel a little better now?”

She nodded and smiled. “Yeah. Thank you.”

Lucas wouldn’t stop looking at her in a way that made her feel something and she knew if she didn’t do something to stop him he might do something she wasn’t ready for. She wiped at her eyes.

“Now we can figure out this stupid triangle thing.”

Lucas shook his head. “What is there to figure out?”

“What do you mean?” Maya asked. Had he seriously forgotten about the disaster that had been the past few months?

“Maya, do you really think, after all of that, that I’m not gonna choose you?”

Her eyes widened and she blinked owlishly. He laughed and tugged on her hand.

“Come on, let’s go let everyone know you’re ok.”

Riley backed away from the door quickly, hurrying into her bathroom and shutting the door. She was ok. Well, she would be, and when Lucas picked Maya, she would be ready.

[charliewritesisashamed]

Up In Smoke

Stoner+Suicidal Cas fic I never posted bc it is WAY to graphic for Wattpad. Like seriously huge ass fuckin trigger warning. I was in that place when I wrote it so I’m really stressing this it is REALLY graphic with the self harm. Please dont read it if that is triggering at all for you. I’m posting it now bc the non graphic parts are pretty good.

***I'm just sayin no drug dealer is ever gonna act like Crowley okay this is unrealistic af it's a fanfic not real life okay They will charge you every penny for what you buy I'm establishing that Crowley and Cas have known each other for a while and Cas has done many favors for Crowley

**also uh Moe's is the south east's version of Chipotle**

This has been a disclaimer.***

Cas slammed his truck door closed behind him. He tried to hold it in, but couldn't. He bawled into his stearing wheel. He rubbed his eyes, hoping no one in the school parking lot had seen his break down. He grabbed his phone and texted the contact "Crowley." Hey, it's been a rough couple days, and I just got paid. Can I stop by and fill up? Cas flipped the ignition and pulled up some Hollywood Undead on his iPod, waiting for a response from Crowley. He checked his phone. Sure, darling, mind grabbing me some smokes? Cas didn't bother answering, he just pulled out of the parking lot and headed towards the nearest gas station.

He parked his truck behind a rather sketchy looking apartment building. Crowley was already outside, a cigarette in hand. He was short, dark, almost black hair. He wore a leather jacket and black t shirt with worn jeans, Stereotypical motherfucker. "Got my Pall Malls?" He asked, blowing smoke. "Yup. Hope you know, I can smell it from here," Cas walked up to Crowley and gave him his smokes. "Landlord buys from me, he doesn't give a shit. C'mon," he led Cas inside. Once inside, Crowley pulled out a freezer gallon bag rolled up, out of his inside coat pocket. "And because you're such a delight, half off." Cas pulled out his wallet. "Only $40," Crowley smiled. "$40 is not half of what I ordered." "Over or under?" Crowley unrolled the bag and examined the contents. "This is $120 so.. dude, I'm really baked, I'm sorry, whatever half of $120 is." Cas laughed, "I can tell, your apartment reeks, dude," Cas fumbled with his wallet, "here's half of $120 is $60, plus $10 for rolling." Crowley refused the extra $10. "No, Cas, rolling on me, okay?" Cas took the $10 and the now rolled up gallon bag. "Thanks, Crowley," Cas pocketed his wallet. "Cas," Crowley pulled him into a hug, "I love ya, buddy." Crowley wouldn't  let go. "I'm really baked." "Get some rest," Cas urged, Crowley laughed.

Cas quickly grabbed an empty cigarette box from his center consol and gently placed in 20 joints, shoving the rest of gallon bag in the trash bag behind his seat. He pulled out an actual cigarette, Marlboro silver, and grabbed the lighter from the glove box. Cas quickly inhaled half of the cigarette before even turning his car on. He drove home finishing his cigarette.

Cas had smoked 3 joints and was pretty baked by midnight. "I'm sorry," he kept whispering to himself. His roommate, Gabe, had bought a pack of disposable razors, he had one in his hand. He'd shaven it down enough to expose the razor part. Cas just stared at it. He got up and took off his pants, and walked into the bathroom. Gabe won't be back until Friday. He's at Sam's.

((TW))

Cas didn't really notice what he was doing until he was covered in his own blood. His thighs sliced up in dozens of places, his boxers were soaked, if he'd been wearing a shirt, the bottom portion would've been, too. A few more slices and he fell asleep.

That morning he woke up in a pool of blood that had began to clot. It was going on 7, his first class was at 10. Cas went into his room and grabbed a pair of clean boxers, somehow without getting blood on anything.

Cas stepped around the large puddle and found hydrogen peroxide under the sink. He poured almost half the bottle around the blood and let it set, going to the kitchen to get a roll of paper towels. Between the paper towels and the peroxide, almost all of the blood was soaked up by 8:30. Cas peroxided the tile to get any dried clots up. Cas hopped into the shower and his legs extremely angry about it.

Cas tried to ignore his burning thighs as he sat in his psychology class. He wore a tank top and black jeans. Despite the jeans he still felt like they were bleeding through and everyone could see and they were all secretly making fun of him. He scribbled down notes and tried not to space out, despite still being kinda high.

Another week of getting stoned and smoking and cutting blurred by. He stopped by the gas station near his apartment to pick up a new box of smokes. He walked in and took out $14 "Two Marlboro please, silver," Cas didn't look up from counter. "I'm gonna need to see some ID," an unfamiliar voice said from behind the register. "There is no way you're over 18." Cas looked up, the man behind the counter smiled and winked. "A-a-are you hitting on me?" Cas was taken aback. He pulled out his licence and handed to the man. "Yes, I am," he looked at Cas's licence, "Castiel Novak." "Cas," he handed the man the $14. "Change is 88 cents," Cas stared down at his wallet. The man chuckled. "Here is your 88 cents, your two Marlboros and," he grabbed a pen, circled his name at the top of the receipt and scribbled down 10 digit number. "My name is Dean and I get off work at 7." Cas blushed, "O-okay," he quickly hurried back to his truck.

At 7:02 Cas dialed the number Dean had given him. He quickly took another hit off the joint he was working on as his anxiety spiked. Dean picked up. "Hello?" "Hi, Dean, this is Cas, two Marlboros, from earlier today," Cas hated phone calls, he was shaking, he took another hit. "The cute one, Castiel Novak, 88 cents," Dean responded. "Yes, you said you g-got off work at 7," great now he was stuttering, he took two more hits. "Yes, sir, how would you like to have dinner?" Dean asked. "S-sure, w-where at?" "Moe's? D'you like Moe's?" Dean asked. "S-sure, meet you there at 8?" "Moe's at 8, see you there." "You too," Cas squeaked, hanging up.

Cas hit lock and his truck beeped in response as he walked toward the Moe's, his jacket billowing behind him. Dean stood outside, staring at the door. "Hey," Cas called over to him. Dean turned to him and smiled, "Hi, cutie, so they close at 9 so I'm thinking we get food to-go and eat at the park or your place or my place?" "Sure," Cas smiled.

"So where'd'ya wanna go?" Dean asked. Cas thought about the state of his apartment, reaking of weed and cigarettes and blood, a plastic laundry hamper with clothes covered in blood was somewhere in the hallway. "I have a couple blankets behind my seats, we can lay in the bed of my truck somewhere," Cas suggested. "Lead the way to somewhere," Dean unlocked his car.

Cas pulled into the parking lot of a park that was definitely closed at 8:45pm on a Saturday, Dean parked next to him. Cas grabbed the blanket from behind his passenger seat and hoped there wasn't any weed rolled up in it. Cas locked the cab behind him and jumped up in the bed, unfurling the blanket. "TARDIS blanket? Bonus points," Dean smiled, jumping up into the bed. He sat his bag down and sat down next to Cas.

"Good ass burrito," Cas said, breaking the silence. Dean chuckled, laying down. "Do you smell weed?" Dean asked. Cas was thankful he wasn't facing Dean as he went white. "God, I haven't smoked in forever, ugh what I wouldn't do for a hit or two." "Oh, thank God," Cas sighed. "What?" Dean sat up. Cas unlocked the cab of his truck and jumped out of the bed. He fished around in his coat pocket for his cigarette box. Without locking the cab, Cas jumped back into the bed, sitting directly in front of Dean, he placed the two boxes in between the two. "Cas, I meant weed," Dean chuckled. "I know," he responded, picking up the small box wrapped in duct tape, opening it to reveal 15 thin joints and a lighter. "This is Issac," Cas clicked the disposable lighter with an eye on it, "get it? 'Eye'sac? He's my best friend. I have more conversations with him than I do most other people. I was scared you'd be one of those people who look down on people like me, I'm really glad you're not, you seem really cool, but I'm also really stoned, so I could be wrong about that," Cas rambled. "You-you smoke a lot?" Dean asked. "Yes. I hope that won't be a problem," Cas frowned. "No, no, just curious, I wanna know more about you, I haven't learned much so far," Dean brushed some hair away from Cas's eyes. "Well, I'm in college, a lot of debt, I smoke a lot, both cigs and weed, I haven't had a boyfriend since sophomore year of high school, I've tried to kill myself 13 times this month, my roommate, Gabe, is-" "Wait, hold on, go back, you've tried to kill yourself? 13 times? This month?" Dean questioned. "Uh, yeah, I'm obviously not very good at that, or maybe I'm just not trying hard enough, I dunno," Cas rubbed his burning thigh. "My roommate, Gabe, is also gay, he's at his boyfriend's for a while, I've been avoiding making another appointment with my therapist, for obvious reasons, and if slash when we do sexy times stuff I'm going to do my best to not even look down at my legs at this point," Cas stopped and took a deep breath. Dean leaned forward and firmly kissed Cas. As Dean pulled away Cas took a deep breath in, "I have really bad anxiety issues I shouldn't be allowed to live on my own, there has to be at least half a gram of just pure THC currently in my body at this point, we can't go to my place, there's too much tobacco and weed and blood, I'm going to make stupid desicions tonight, and your eyes are really pretty," Cas grabbed Dean's face, pulling him back into a kiss.