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#but that thoughts going back in the mind oven to cook more cause it’s not solid yet
deadm0ss · 1 year
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More titan luz time!! I got more ideas for how stuff works
Starting off right in the middle of the finale, after kings dad leaves her body instead of goin back to full human she’s still a titan but “powered down”. Slightly longer hair, and lil baby fangs an horns immediately apparent with the bones and fluff still there too
Over the next few years her horns would continue growing and so would she. Tall luz supremacy. She’s like a full head and a half taller than amity by the king-ceañera. Unlike king who’ll get island sized she caps out around the height kings dad showed themselves to her as.
(My brain keept spinning the thought ‘hmm what about when she gets her adult fangs’, yet more for the brainworms to feast on>:3)
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dirtyvulture · 6 months
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Natasha Romanoff* x Fem!Reader
18+ only, read at your own risk
Requested by @amanda13parker: GP!Nat who has blanket consent from fem!R to use her whenever and Nat takes full advantage of it. Cooking? Not anymore she's not. Bent over the counter and stuffed. Watching a movie? Nope. Riding Nat and bouncing on her ... thing... Sleeping? Woke up to being bred. And R is loving every second of it while being praised and a bit degraded, being called by Nat her good girl and her breeding slut since she enjoys it so much.
AN: Enjoy, friend! And everyone should go check out your artwork. 👀 This is basically just porn with no plot, so keep scrolling if you're looking for something with substance. 😂
*Nat has a penis.
You hear the front door slam open and Natasha trudge inside, dropping her heavy work bag to the floor.
"I'm in the kitchen!" you call out, although you know she can guess where you are based on the smell of your cooking. You're almost done now, the stew aromatic and bubbling in the pot, and you're taking the freshly baked bread out of the oven when Natasha walks in.
Just as you set the hot pan on the counter, you feel Natasha's arms coil around your waist, her front pressing against your back, her weight heavy and warm against you.
"That smells so good, baby," she whispers into your ear and your heart rate quickens when you feel her bulge press against your butt.
"Are you hungry?" you ask.
"For you," she responds, and before you can protest, Natasha has you turned around, facing the counter. Your shorts are on the floor as she wrestles out of her pants, her strong hands lifting your hips up to angle yourself back.
"Oh Nat," you moan as her thick cock slides through your center. You feel yourself dripping onto her in record time and you're glad she can't see how red you are in the face at how quickly she turns you on. Her fingers part your folds and rub your clit roughly, causing you to keen louder and thrust back, the emptiness in your core begging to be filled by her.
Natasha throbs at the noises you make, her breathing picking up as she prepares you for her. She slaps her cock against your butt before sliding in, grunting as you tighten and convulse around her.
"Fuck babe, your'e so big," you pant, pushing back to take her entire length. Natasha slams her hips forward, almost sending you crashing into the counter, setting a hard and face pace you can barely keep up with.
Good thing the bread is already out of the oven, because you have no chance of going anywhere now.
Natasha's grip on your waist tightens to keep you in place as she slams into you over and over, the tip of her cock brushing the sensitive spot inside of you with every thrust. You're almost standing on your tiptoes as you try to angle yourself to fit her better, moaning in ecstasy at the thought of her using you like a personal Fleshlight.
"Right there, Nat. Right there. Please don't stop," you beg, holding onto the edge of the counter so tightly if it weren't made of granite a piece would have snapped off.
"Look at you taking me so well. My good girl," Natasha grunts, losing some of her rhythm as she nears her release. The slick noises of sex fill the kitchen, and with one final thrust you come undone, spilling all over her cock.
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Movie nights don't always go as planned for the two of you either. More than half the time they end up with both of you on top of each other, Natasha's cock somehow finding its way inside of you every time. But you don't mind. You love being bred by your girlfriend and even if your favorite movie of all time was playing, you'd gladly let yourself be taken any way Natasha wants.
And if being dragged onto Natasha's lap halfway through a movie and made to ride her cock until your legs were shaking and you were seeing stars wasn't enough, Natasha has the audacity to wake you up in the middle of the night, already with her cock between your legs, hard and ready for another round.
Both of you are lying on your sides, and you lift your leg higher to give her easier access to sink into you to the hilt. Your brain is a scrambled mess from being woken up so suddenly and fucked so frequently, but you don't mind at all. You love being used by Natasha and you love making her feel good.
The bed rocks as Natasha thrusts into you, holding onto your leg to keep them separated.
"You like being woken up just to be bred like the slut you are?" she grunts into your ear.
"Yes, yes!" you respond, reaching back to tangle your hand in her hair, dragging her head down into the crook of your neck.
"Who's slut are you?" Natasha asks, her thrusts quickening. She will never get over how well you take her, like your pussy was meant for her cock and her cock only.
"Yours!" you pant, slick running down the inside of your thigh. You aren't even sure if you've cum already, but Natasha gives no signs of slowing down as she plows into you. She gropes onto your breasts, biting bruises onto your neck and shoulders, handling you roughly as she searches for her release. And you're happy to lie there and be used, your body in a state of euphoria as Natasha finally cums into you, the hot pulses of her seed triggering yet another orgasm from you, and you go limp in her arms.
"That's my good girl," Natasha murmurs into your sweaty neck. "You'll look so beautiful carrying my child."
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AN: Please like, comment, and reblog! Follow for more content. 🥰
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thyme-in-a-bubble · 9 months
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soup
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a/n: this whole fic is 100% @chvoswxtch fault because one day when I was about to make dinner she planted this idea in my mind, after too long of winding each other up with thoughts about him, when I attempted to say goodbye so that I could cool down enough in order to not cut my fingers off or burn the food because I was too busy drooling, this menace just went, and I quote: "try not to think about him fucking you from behind while you cook." needless to say, I was a mess that night.... I was already a mess before, but then I just 401 error and I haven't recovered yet
warnings: frank castle x reader, smut, established relationship, cooking soup (good soup), kissing, clothed sex, kitchen sex, couch sex, dirty talk, size kink, oral, fingering, light anal, penetrative sex, unprotected sex, impact play, orgasm denial, multiple orgasms, creampie, cumplay, overstimulation, just them being cute and nasty and domestic together
word count: 3577
∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽
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The soft sound of Nat King Cole crooning was barely audible from the speakers in the living room, mixing and mingling with the soothing rhythm of raindrops pattering against the window in front of you, yet your hips still gently swayed to the tune as you grabbed the stripped oven mitt still laying on the counter beside the stove from the last time you’d checked on the broth bubbling away in the large pot. 
Lifting up the heavy lid, the heat from the metal slowly began to seep through to your touch as you checked on the progress, briefly watching the ivory beans dance around in the simmering liquid, wispy aromatics bubbling alongside them, before you covered it up once more. 
Standing beside the sink, you transferred the lightly dripping head of dark green cabbage onto the cutting board. After temporarily getting distracted by a thunderous roar that was heard from somewhere outside far in the distance, you then sliced the knife in your hand straight down the middle of the cruciferae, the crunchy vegetal sound reverberating off the kitchen walls. 
Hearing the floorboards suddenly creak, you whipped your head around to find Frank leisurely leaning against the doorframe, eyes glued to your form as an adoring smile warmed his stern features. 
“Frank!” you exclaimed, chuckling lightly at the fright he had managed to stir in you, “when did you get home?”
“About three songs ago,” he stated, the gentle music still buzzing from the room behind him. 
“And you’ve just been standing there this whole time?” you bit down on the smile that fact conjured. 
“Yep,” he drawled, readjusting his crossed arms. It didn’t take long after you’d turned back to the task at hand that you felt his warm touch wrap around your waist and felt his deep voice tickle your ear, “what are you making?” he rested his chin on your shoulder. 
“Soup,” you shared, cutting rhythmically through the hardy greens. 
“Mmm,” he hummed, craning to plant a tender peck upon your clavicle, his beard gently scratching your skin, “that sounds great…” his tender hands nearly burned through the material of your dress, causing your moments to slow down ever so slightly, “so, what do you have to do now?”
“Well, the base and the bean are already cosy in the pot, doing its thing,” your breath briefly hitched, interrupting your determined explanation, as his wandering touch triggered goosebumps to erupt across your skin, your form instinctively curving into him as his fingers lightly caressed your midsection, your still swaying hips and just shy down your thighs, “but I thought I’d get a head start with this before it’s time for them to go in so that I don’t go and get distracted by something else and then end up having to rush cutting it up.”
His slow breath clear in your ear, he sneakily brought your hips back flush against his, your soft bottom a stark contrast to the excited tightness in his dark jeans. Feathery kisses roamed your neck as your chopping gradually came to a stop, your eyelid growing heavy as you felt your pulse spike, especially making its presence known between your legs. 
Inhaling deeply, his hands slid up to capture your covered boobs in a teasing grasp, “Frank…” you warned softly, though your ass lazily melted back against his hardness.
“Yeah?” nose gracing the shell of your ear, his touch boldly drifted down your dress, effortlessly finding your centre through the fabric, your pulse thumping against his graze. 
“I am holding a knife,” you pointed out, trying to compose yourself, even though the way that he caressed you over your clothes successfully swayed your brain to fit something else into your evening’s schedule. 
Nipping gently at your flushed cheek, you heard the smirk on his lips as he acknowledged, “so?” burying his fingers in the fabric billowing around your legs and slowly hiking it up, “you really think that fact scares me?”
Bunching the skirt up around your waist, clenching it tight in one of his iron fists, the other one dipped down below it and only briefly tickled you over your panties before hooking a finger in them and pulling them to the side. Fluttering through your glistening folds for but a moment, as soon as your hips bucked in search of more, he took it away. 
Turning your cheek to complain, his lips grazed your skin as his grasp enveloped yours still clutched around the kitchen knife and set it down for you. Fluttering eyes locking on his form, you watched as he sank down, kneeling behind you on the cool tile. Holding your gaze for a moment as he hungrily nipped at your arched backside, he then determinedly dove in, burying his face in between your thighs. 
“Holy shit,” you gasped, gripping onto the edge of the countertop as his tongue lapped up your essence, “Frank!” desperately latching on like your pussy was his oxygen and he had just come up from a dive in the deepest of oceans. His muffled moan vibrated against your folds, making your legs quiver, “you’re-, you’re-…” sturdy nose bumping deliciously against you as he fluttered up to bury his tongue in your heat, “holy fuck!”
Growling ecstatically as he momentarily pulled back, each of his broad palms glued to your soft cheeks, fondling the flesh below your hips as he admired how your core dripped for him. After landing a swift tap across your ass, he began to slobber at your little rosebud, determinedly moving with you as the dizzying sensation made you rise up onto your tiptoes. Framing your bottom with his burly arms, he then shifted one of them, lowering it till found your cunt, promptly plugging up your clenching pussy as his mouth devoured your other hole. 
Briefly retracting once again, you felt a dollop of his spit harshly impact your core, withdrawing his finger and spreading it around your glossy petals before shoving two of his digits right back inside, leaning back as he pumped them in and out, admiring your mess as his free hand lowered to palm his tightness through his pants. Curling them softly, he found that spot that drove you wild. One of your rowdy legs nearly kicked his ribs as he began to harshly rock his fingers within you, his hand nearly vibrating as your pussy squelched at the pressure. Though just as you felt yourself near the edge, his touch faltered. 
That tease, he had to have known how close you were. Arms flailing to get him back, your whines were swiftly knocked out of you and traded in for a breathless moan as he suddenly straightened up behind you and filled you up in one fell swoop. 
Clenching around his girth as he gave you a second to accommodate around him, you caught sight of his reflection in the raindrop-adorned window before you, his brow furrowed as he stared down at where you had taken him so beautifully. 
“Fuck, you feel so good,” you saw his eyes roll in his skull at the pleasure of your warmth. Wrapping his strong arms around your form, one of them came up to seize your jaw, hungrily turning your head so that he could capture your lips in a heated kiss. 
Grinding back on him as you were still so close, your collective moans mingled as your head tilted back, breaking off the needy kiss. With webs of saliva still connecting your mouths, you hazily blinked back into his eyes as he let go of your chin, grasping your hip and aiding you back against him, egging your desperate bucks on. 
“I missed you today,” he shared his breath as you chased your high, “real bad,” his nose gently bumped against yours with every needy roll, “and then I came home and saw you just-…” he let out a low groan, grasp tightening around your moving hips, “you’re like a fucking angel…” 
With frantic moans gushing out of you, your legs trembled as you creamed all over his throbbing cock. Arm feverishly twisting, you snatched up the edge of his dark t-shirt like a lifeline and whimpered, “I love you,” completely enamoured by his dark coffee eyes staring back at you, “I love you so much,” he crashed his lips against your own once more, silencing your entranced cry. 
Slowly pressing your hips further back against his, burying himself that much deeper within your still trembling core, your grip on him tightened as he moved you, sliding you silkily upon his cock and gently fucking the sensitivity away.
“I love you too,” his deep timbre washed over you, like magic the sound aiding your trembling pussy to quickly bounce back, “so much,” he disappeared in your eyes, “god, you’re sexy…” before your head sluggishly lulled back and reunited your vision with the drizzly window.
Your entire body rocked against the counter as he bucked up into you, “Frank,” you uttered breathlessly as he stretched you out at a rhythm that was both so slow yet so hard at the same time, “oh my god, you feel so-, so-…” you crumbled down against the table, your head right beside the cutting board, “fuck!” 
“I feel so what, huh?” he teased your blissed-out babble, “so hard? So big? So good?” his thrusts began to grow more selfish, the lewd clapping of hastily exposed slivers of skin echoing and overpowering all the other soothing noises that vibrated throughout the apartment, “you like how this cock fills you up to the fucking brim, do you?”
“Y-yes!” you struggled to get out, feeling his warm, broad palm spread over your spine as a tender anchor while he fucked your brains out. 
“Yeah, you love this cock, don’t you?” his hips slammed into yours, “tell me,” he dared you with a sharp smack across your bottom, “tell me you love it.”
“I love it,” you blubbered, your face buried in the crook of your folded arms on the counter. 
“You love what, sweetheart?” you didn’t have to peek back at him to know how hard he was smirking. 
“I love your cock,” your toes curled as his broad thumb suddenly began to rub over your other hole, “I love it,” still slick from his kisses, he swiped over it, “I love you-, I love-,” tickling you gently before slowly sinking it in, plugging the opening up just to the first knuckle.
Like the rain pouring down outside, so did you as you came, your pussy gushing all over his girth. Swiftly yanking his dick out, he harshly rubbed it through your folds, “there you go,” flicking across your clit and urging more of your juices to squirt out, “there you fucking go,” showering down onto the cool tile floor.
Panting, he spun your jelly-like figure around and kissed your lips fiercely. Scrambling, he fervently plucked you up into his arms, wrapping your shaky legs around his hips as your tongue danced across his own. In a haze, you clung to him like a koala, fuzzily curling your arms around his neck, eternally thankful for his might as he held you secure against his boulder-like body. 
Eyes shut, soft hums escaped your lips and vibrated against his own as you felt his legs begin to move, swiftly exiting out of the kitchen. Fat length still like a rock nudged against you’re your trembling centre, you gently began to rock against it, a decision that caused Frank to suddenly change the destination to where he was carrying you. 
A sharp yelp erupted from your lunges as your back suddenly collided with the leather couch cushions. The shocked squeak swiftly melted into a warm giggle, one he fleetingly echoed as he dipped down to join you, knees resting below your dropped form, your legs folded up at your sides from both the fall, but also the delicious exhaustion that had kicked in. 
Reaching down between your bodies, your form jaggedly jumped as you briefly circled your sore pearl before seizing Frank’s third leg, his clothes still clung to his figure, as did yours, only zippered were undone and fabric desperately pushed aside to free what needed to be freed. Fingers barely meeting as they wrapped around him, you gave him a few generous tugs before guiding the tip back down to your entrance. Mouth agape, you nudged him against your sobbing hole, his brows furrowed in pleasure as he stared down at you intently. 
“There she is,” he smirked down at you, “there’s my fucking dirty girl,” noting the dreamy glint in your eye, “you want some more, huh?”
“Please,” you whined as he kept his hips locked, making your job impossible, “I do, I really, really do,” he then wafted away your grasp and held at the base of his heavy length, “I need it!” you squirmed beneath him as he tapped the weight against your overly sensitive core, your sodden panties still clinging on the sidelines.
“Yeah?” you expected him to tease you, to twist your arm until you said uncle, but no, that wasn’t what he did at all. “This what you need?” he mercilessly slammed back into you, a strangled moan rolling off your tongue to answer his taunting question, “then fucking take it like the good little slut I know you are.”
You were nearly crushed as he fucked you into the couch, though you didn’t care one bit about the odd position when he made you literally melt the way he did. 
Folded in half, face smooched into the cushions, your collective moans echoed throughout the apartment. Hands engulfing your waist, you felt like a ragdoll as he fucked you, balls slapping against you with every primal thrust. Tits nearly spilling out of the delicate neckline of your crumbled dress, Frank fleetingly caught the jiggle, palming it roughly before focusing in on the pebbly nipple poking through the fabric, pinching it harshly and causing your eyes to grow glassy. 
A low growl seeped out of him as he watched you squirm so deliciously. Swatting the soft skin lightly before refastening his hold around your form, he readjusted you and yanked your hips further up off the couch, curving your spine and hauling your hips against him like you were just a little fucktoy, a cocksleave for him to get off with. 
“Where are you going, huh?” you heard him chuckle as you practically dug your face into the sofa, your entire form just uncontrollably curling up from the overwhelming ecstasy, “don’t hide that beautiful face from me,” he uttered adoringly while pounding your puffy pussy into next week, “look me in the eye when I’m fucking ruining you,” and painstakingly, you forced your blissed out features to turn in his direction, your cheek smooshing against the cushions as you hazily blinked up at him, “that’s it,” he towered above you, a smirk blossoming on his lip, “look at you,” he couldn’t help but pick up his speed, slamming into you so hard that you saw the stars themselves, “that’s my good girl.”
His grip dug into you so hard that it left no doubt in your mind about the colourful marks you’d have as a souvenir for the following days. 
“You want me to cum inside you, huh?” he smiled at the way it made you whine, “send you back into the kitchen with it still running down your wobbly legs?” and even though you were positive you wouldn’t be able to stand after this, the vulgar image was still enough to push you over the edge once more, needily nodding for him to join you as you tumbled over. 
Gushing around his fat cock, rumbling groans escaped him as he pumped your trembling and tender cunt full of his hot cum, your own intense waterfall still trickling when he eventually pulled his spent length out. 
Flopping down on the couch beside your own exhausted figure, his head rotated, flashing you his hazy smile. Humming in contentment, your eyes too heavy to stay open too long, your fingers lazily grabbed for him to scoot closer.
Cupping your cheeks softly in his broad hands, one of them stayed as the other brushed down the length of your arm, caressing the goosebumps upon your tingly flesh. Nuzzling his nose against your own, he then pressed a soft kiss to your lips, thumb swiping across your cheekbone as your serene hum washed over him. 
The fingers on your arm slowly wandered over your skin, boldly making their way down your form once more. 
“F-fuck!” your eyes swiftly fluttered open, body jolting, your palm smacked his sturdy chest as his touch swept through the sore and sloppy disarray between your weary thighs.  
“Christ,” he craned his neck to admire your downright swollen cunt, “look at that pretty mess, baby,” he caught some of his own creamy essence slowly leaking out of you and rubbed it into your petals as you squirmed at the overstimulation. 
Dipping his lips down to latch onto the side of your neck, you panted, “Frank, please, it’s-” 
But he interrupted before you could finish the hazy sentence, “what?” purring in between the sloppy hickeys his mouth left in its wake, “is it too much for you? Too good, huh?” you simply let out a whine of confirmation as you felt your body begin to side with him, “you can take it, I know you can,” pornographic soppy sounds found your ears as his long fingers slid inside your sore core, “just listen to that, fuck…” your sensitive walls clung around him like a velvet vice as he stubbornly caressed you.
If someone at that moment asked you what day of the week it was, then your best attempt at an answer would probably be blue, as you didn’t even know what was up and what was down at this point. 
“You think you can squirt for me again, huh?” he kissed your cheek as the tell-tell soppy sound began to echo at his hithering motion, “give me some more sugar?” you suddenly felt his warmth disappear from your side, blinking your sluggish eyes open to see him slide down on the floorboards before you, his coiled fingers all the while rocking daringly within you as he granted himself a front row seat, “a little more dessert before dinner?” 
Pushing your tired legs further apart, the warm smile that bloomed upon his lips tickled your glistening centre, “look at that…” he watched as he fucked the rest of his cum out of you, “fucking beautiful…” 
Glancing up in your direction, he narrowly caught your eye and the intense look that he gave you made it impossible for you to simply let your own close once more. Piercing gaze glued on you, he too noticed your crumbled-up form begin to tremble even further just as he dipped down to kiss that swollen clit of yours.
“Atta girl,” he gently pressed his grin against your puffy pearl. 
Fingers rocketing, he only managed to flick his tongue against you a moment before the floodgates flung open one last time. 
First gripping onto your bucking hips with only one hand, he then departed the one buried deep within you to aid in the cause, holding you steady against his mouth as his tongue successfully slipped in to substitute for his digits. 
Sharp sobs melting into whiny pants, you watched as he finally released the latching hold he had withheld, eyes growing wide as he revealed to you the substance he had caught. 
“Holy shit,” you heard your guttural moan fill the room as he alluringly let your squirt trickle from his lips and back down upon your messy core, “that’s so much!”
“Yeah, it fucking is,” he beamed, pride dripping from his husky tone.
Beard damp and eyes the shape of hearts, you just barely through your overwhelming haze managed to see as he lowered his glossy hand down to enclose around himself. 
“Are you-,” you giggled, incapable of finishing your query. 
Cock, once again, hard and throbbing in his fist, he chuckled, “how could I not be?”  kissing your tender inner thigh as you continued to laugh.
“You are not going anywhere near there again,” you lightheartedly warned as your palm shot down to shield yourself. 
“Hm,” he raised himself up from his knees, “I can work with that,” blissed-out smile still plastered upon his gruff features, “what do you want, huh?” his strong legs then caused the couch to dip on either side of your form, “you want me to give you a show?” gazing at you longingly as he now hovered above you, “you sure gave me one.”
“Maybe you can repay the favour…” your nails dug into his meaty thighs, urging him to crawl up so far that his knees were fastened on either side of your shoulder, his girth blocking your eye line to his gorgeous face. 
“Yeah?” he slowly jerked himself mere millimetres from your features, “you want me to make your face as messy as your pussy? Give you a mouthful of cum?” his other hand dipping down to lovingly comb your matted hair as his offer triggered a warm giggle to flow from your chest obscured beneath his perched hips. 
“I love you,” your starry eyes gazing up at him crinkled from your bliss as you snuck your tongue out and swiped it across the prominent vein running along the underside of him. 
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© 2023 thyme-in-a-bubble 
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mayfieldss · 10 months
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Call for help - Carmen Berzatto
Content Warnings; language, mentions of fire, blood and minor kitchen accidents. fem!reader mentions
Summary; You can't cook to save your life, and in the end, you need Carmy's assistance.
AN; inspired by my own silly kitchen disaster, and a comment made by @kpopgirlbtssvt though I didn't have Carmy to help me with mine.
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When he got the call, Carmen was scrubbing the stovetops, late into a shift at the beef. The customers were long gone, though the rest of the chefs were still around, dismissing themselves one by one as their tasks trickled down to nothing. He hadn't expected things to go the way they did, and he took his time, wiping his hands on a towel before picking up the phone, "Hey, closing's slow tonight but I'll be home—" he's cut off when he hears your panicked breathing through the phone.
"Carmy, I fucked up."
That gets Carmen's heart racing, and he tucks the phone between his ear and shoulder as he begins packing things away, faster now. "Okay," He starts, staying calm. "what's going on over there?" He's daring to assume your home; he hopes that you are as you answer.
"I don't know what happened, at first there was just steam, and then the steam turned to smoke—" You sound as though you're crying, and Carmy signals to Ebra, the man coming over.
"Hey, baby? I'll be right there, can you just wait a sec?" Carmy removes the phone from his ear, turning to Ebra, undoing his apron with one hand. "Can you finish up here, I've gotta go help my girl out, think she set something on fire."
Ebra just nods with a small laugh as Carmy brings the phone back to his ear, whispering sweet nothings into the receiver as you ramble on. "You owe me extra family, Carmy." Ebra calls as Carmy heads for the door, grabbing his jacket from the locker on the way out.
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At home, it's a disaster. The smoke alarms are screaming warning as Carmen enters, and he can smell the charred mystery as he walks through the door. The kitchen is even worse, and when he makes it to the room, you're sat on the floor, back pressed against the fridge. There's no fire now, but it's clear there had been one before.
"Shit," He moves fast, Carmy finding a place knelt by your side once he's assessed that there is no immediate danger surrounding you. "What the fuck happened?"
Your eyes are glassy though your cheeks are dry as if you can't bring yourself to cry anymore. "I have no fucking clue." Your knees are pulled close to your chest, and you look so tired. "It all just went up in flames, like," you make a sound similar to 'whoosh' accompanied by less than enthusiastic hand gestures and Carmy lets out a laugh of relief despite it all.
"Fuck," He mutters, pulling you in for a hug that you gratefully accept.
It lasts a while, with you and Carmy huddled in an embrace on the kitchen floor, when he finally speaks again. "You okay?" he asks, voice soft in the silence between you.
You nod, head moving against his chest "Yeah."
To that, Carmy presses a kiss to your hair, breathing you in as he does. You're okay, and that's what matters. You're safe and you're with him, and Carmy is more than grateful for that. "Good."
After another minute Carmy pulls away, standing slowly as you separate yourself from him. He helps you to your feet moments later, casting his eyes to the oven, and the cause of the night's events. "So, what were you trying to cook over there?" He moves away from you to grab a chair, climbing up to turn off the fire alarm. "This was pissing me off" he mutters as he jams his index finger against the buttons, halting the machines beeping assault.
"Pizza," you mutter, arms folded over your chest as you stare at the blackened state of your oven and stovetop, smoke still creeping from cracks in the oven door as if the grey mist has a mind of its own. "I thought you couldn't go wrong with Pizza."
Carmen, now down from the chair and back at your side, slips an arm over your shoulder tugging you just close enough for him to place a kiss on your temple. "Well, Uh, looks like you can." There's a small laugh in his words, and surprisingly it makes you laugh a little too. "How bout I make us something?"
To that you shake your head, looking up at him with the eyes that he'd got lost in so long ago. "You've been working all day, I don't want you doing that."
"Alright," Carmy smiles, his eyes drifting over your features with the kind of care he only gives to you. "How 'bout PB and J?"
"And Ice-cream?" You offer, the light smile on your lips something Carmen had missed seeing on you. He nods, curls falling in his face as a tattooed arm snakes around your waist.
"Sounds good."
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CARMEN BERZATTO TAGLIST: @thrutheburnout
GENERAL TAGLIST: @candywh0r3 @caplanreadss @s00buwu
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sweatandwoe · 10 months
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it's chicken.
zhongli with a cute waitress that keeps letting him have meals for free cause they get to making googly eyes at him for so long they forget to ask for money
you're too good to me @chickenparm
Warnings: Zhongli x GN!Reader, Fluff, Crushes (it's just very cute), a bit of awkward!Zhongli and awkward!reader, and Chef Mao being a bro
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"How big is his tab?"
You blink, setting down the dishes you were bringing in. It only takes a moment to follow Mao's gaze and find who he was searching for.
Zhongli.
The handsome man from the funeral parlor, who always seemed to be short on mora.
He's facing away, strolling down the street away from Wanmin restaurant, his hair moving slightly in the wind. Both wrists are crossed over his lower back, hanging just above his hips. You look away when he glances back, almost like he knew someone was watching him. The golden eyes were far too pretty.
Slowly you glance at Mao - he's got an odd spark in his eyes and his lips are twitching. Though he's leaning casually against the counter, close to the serving window. The oven is off and now he's going lax and sated with the day coming to a close.
Your fingers twitch, moving to the sink. "It's zero."
"Zero?" There's a tone, near glee when he speaks. Though Mao is shaking his head when you sneak a glance at him, fingers drumming against the stone counter. He gives a low whistle after a moment. "You've got it that bad, huh?"
You turn on the sink, frowning. "Mao-"
"I'm not judging!" He raises both hands, moving over to sling a washcloth over his shoulder. "But he comes in once a week and never pays, you'd think he'd get the hint."
You frown. It's quite known that Zhongli had been paying for most things with money given by that Fatui leader, or putting it on his tab. He could've paid for it with that other man's money, but he always looked a little off-set when he could only give that. A little out of place, uncomfortable.
So you had simply stopped asking. Not really hoping for anything in return, you just got the benefit of being able to see and talk to him once a week. He was always kind, thoughtful and would go on for ages about all sorts of history when you asked him. And the small loss of one meal a week in your wages was well worth his company in your mind.
When Mao nudges you, you give a shrug and then hand him a bowl to dry. "I don't think he feels that way about me, and I... I just want to be his friend, if nothing else."
There's a quiet that settles between you both as you settle into the rhythm. He doesn't ask about it again that night or the next few days, but there's a spark in his eyes and a slight smirk curling on his lips. Pestering him about it brought nothing, only for him to drop the ball.
"I want you to come in late tomorrow."
You peer at him, as he locks up the restaurant and he's faced away from you. "Late?"
He turns, wiping his hands over his thighs and tucking the key away. "Yeah, I want you here for the dinner rush, I'll pay you the same don't worry about it. Xiangling wants to help with waitressing tomorrow, and you know I can't deny her anything."
That was a lie. Not the denial part, he always spoiled his only child, but Xiangling wanting to help wait tables instead of cooking was a lie. She'd always help out at the restaurant, but her father had always trained her to be more on the culinary side of things.
Still, you don't argue in case maybe he did want some father-daughter time. Xiangling wasn't always in Liyue anymore and she had come home two weeks ago. And besides you were getting paid for it.
Your skin just wouldn't stop prickling with anxiety that he had something planned.
The reason became clear when you show up on the day, only to find Xiangling wearing an apron, already helping customers at the main table and counter while Mao is busy serving up food. It's not too busy, surprisingly. But what is a surprise is a small table you can set up in the back alley, looking over the river.
And at who was sitting at it.
You glance at Mao, who peers at you through the serving window with a wide grin. His eyes crinkle when you begin to sputter.
"I am not going-"
"Oh, yes you are. Your duties tonight are to go have fun. You've earned it." He shoos you when you try to move to the kitchen, to the point of closing the door and calling for Xiangling. "Customer for the back table!"
And she appears with her father's smirk on her face and spear in hand - and you can't really say no now. Marched over to the table, where you can see him. He's staring off into the river, both hands on the table, eyes slightly wide. There was a glaze lily between both hands and he looked far more tense than you had ever seen him.
When you approach, he stands so quickly that his legs hit the table and he's using his geo vision to stabilize it before everything on top wobbles into the river."I'm sorry-"
"It's okay-"
You both pause, staring at one another. Xiangling makes a sound that is quickly silenced, but you're sure it was almost a giggle. She's rushing off to deal with the other customers.
And then you're both left alone.
Zhongli still has both hands on the table, leaning over slightly from where he was standing. After a moment, he takes the glaze lily in hand and gives it a fond look, before turning his gaze on you. "I brought this for you."
"You didn't have to." The words slip from your mouth, but you're moving to accept the gift. Your cheeks are warm, and your palms are sweaty against the stem. "It's beautiful."
His lips part, but he glances away and closes his mouth. Whatever he wanted to say, it makes his cheeks go slightly pink. He moves to untuck your chair, and you sit. Once he joins you, you both settle into the most awkward silence you've encountered on any date before.
Date? Was this even a date?
The silence stretches on, and you're almost certain Mao had told Xiangling to not take your drink orders until you were talking. You slowly set the glaze lily in your lap, not wanting to damage the soft flower. Then you glance at him, not looking at you, his fingers drumming slightly against the table. The pink on his cheeks was still there. He almost seemed anxious but that was because he probably wanted to leave. You don't dare to think of what Mao had said to the poor man.
"Zhongli," he glances up at his name and you pause. His eyes were the shame shade of Mora coins, including the slight shine to them. "I don't know what Mao said to you but, you don't have to be here if you don't want to be."
His fingers settle, and then his shoulders sag a bit. "I'm not here because Chef Mao forced my hand."
You blink, and your own cheeks get a little warm. "Oh."
"He was the one to suggest it," he does admit, folding his fingers together. "I realize, while I had been studying history I had forgotten an important aspect to take in."
"What would that be?"
"Culture." He shifts, and his cheeks go a little darker. "Courting, specifically on how to start to engage in it."
Oh.
Oh.
Your body relaxes, a smile twitching on your lips. "You wanted to ask me out?"
"Yes. But I had no clue how to, I've never courted someone before." He admits with ease. His smile is small, and the crow's feet growing under his eyes stand out a little more from it. "Not many have been interested in seeing me romantically. I'm not used to it." One hand reaches across the table. "But I am interested in you."
Your fingers settle across his own, watching as he lets out a small breath at the touch. "That's good to know. Because I am interested." You pause. "In you, I mean."
"I understand." But the same way you find his awkwardness in this endearing, he seems to feel the same way with you. It's easy then to fall into your familiar rhythm, though he asks more questions about you now, leaning in to catch your every word and asking questions. He makes you snort once and he smiles widely at the noise.
Mao watches you both from the back window, before glancing at his daughter. "How long has it been since you sat them?"
She smiles, eyes twinkling. "An hour."
His face splits into a wide grin. "Knew it. You can go ask them for their drinks now." He smiles to himself watching his daughter skip outside, to get the order. Once she's gone, he lets out a breath, eyeing them out the window.
They had better make her the flower girl when they got married. Of course, Mao would be the best man, because he'd have to guide Zhongli through it. But he wouldn't mind.
Seeing his two lonely friends smiling tenderly at one another, eyes full of joy, is far worth the cost of two meals and some of his time.
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Whumptober 2023
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Day 25: "Maybe I'm just hopeless" [Reader x Piccolo] {Dragon Ball Z/ Super}
Another pan hit the countertop, the contents were completely inedible and Piccolo couldn't be more upset. All the advice he had from Gohan, Chi-Chi, and Bulma was going to waste as the Namekian couldn't, for the life of himself, figure out how to cook or bake anything.
How was he supposed to impress his crush if he couldn't even cook?
Pacing around the small Capsule house, Piccolo pulled bandages tight around his fingers. Too many small, angry blisters had formed from his carelessness with the oven and stovetop. He was running out of time.
Sort of... he had already confessed, asked you to come over, and was delighted that you were going to come over. Though you did mention taking things slowly as you weren't entirely sure if you really felt the same way about Piccolo or not.
He was perfectly okay with finding out over the course of a courtship of sorts. A slow-burn relationship wasn't too bad a fate, and should either of you not like where this was going... it would be easier overall to break things off.
Though Piccolo really didn't want to think about that...
No, he needed a plan and fast. You would be here soon and Piccolo's attempts at cooking had all fallen flat. It was a miracle he didn't burn the house down at this rate.
Knock! Knock! Knock!
Piccolo froze mid-step. Well, he clearly had less time than he thought. But he couldn't just not answer the door. Not when he was actually looking forward to someone's company for a change.
"[Name]." He stepped back, gesturing for you to enter, "I wasn't expecting you for a little while yet."
Humming as you slid your shoes off, "Yeah, I hope that's okay. I was a bit nervous for this."
"That... that makes two of us." Piccolo smiled weakly.
"Did... it smells like something burned."
"Ah, yeah." He turned back toward the kitchen, "I was trying to cook but... Maybe I'm just hopeless."
You snickered, causing the poor alien man to blush, "Nah, you just need a little practice. Though..."
Piccolo was trying to remain calm, his mind was racing from the fact that you were here... just a few feet away and no one else was around to ruin the moment.
"I didn't want to be too rude. So I ate before showing up, since Krillen mentioned you don't actually need to eat or anything." You shifted, only slightly nervous from admitting that out loud, "But if you're dead set on cooking... maybe we could try working together? I wouldn't mind teaching you."
"Yeah?" He felt like melting on the spot, "That... that would be nice."
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Another cute scene I thought of:
Kitty: what did you guys get on question 6?
Pietro: I got 7
Wanda: I got 9
Kitty: Damn, I got 42, guess I flunked this math quiz… Reader, what did you get?
Reader, with this expression 🫠: I got George Washington…
-Later-
Professor Xavier (who’s favorite student definitely isn’t reader, what are you talking about?): I got your tests back. Except for Readers, sadly your test…drowned. You get an A though
- ❤️ Anon
🤣😂😅 Oh dear... I can see that happening! But I raise you this: What if Reader actually was correct? Now that would be hilarious 😆...
• I headcanon Reader is great with things like algebra and multiplication, just maybe not word questions in math or English
• Reader is good with drawing notes, charts, and diagrams/pictures for science, biology and anatomy classes. Scarily accurate, in a way, at least compared to the other teens closer to their age
• Reader has weaker arms, but really strong legs. They're a good defense on sports teams, so they're more likely to block someone or hit/kick/strike the ball to someone else (they accidentally kicked someone in the shin, hard enough for then to fall over in agony)
• Reader is good at baking/cooking. They tend to be okay with measurements, but struggle a bit when it comes to dry vs. wet ingredients and diffent oven temperatures
• I'm going to say the campus appears similar to a boarding school: Everyone lives there, basically
• Reader does not have a roommate; they are invited to stay over with others, though... or have a few platonic yans invite themselves to stay over with Reader in their room
• The town near the school (it's a few miles out) is pretty much like a ghost town, save for a few odd individuals... There are places to go for field trips, such as a science and history museum, an aquarium, an art museum, and some landmarks/environments such as a mountain range, the beach/coast, and a few forests...
• The Town has a few places to visit, for food or clothes or movies, it's just... really, really quiet... If it weren't for the few people living there, one would think they're in the middle of nowhere...
• Is there a uniform? Not exactly? Everyone has to wear a wristband that states their name and school number, but otherwise? There isn't much of a dress code
• The campus has dorms, it has a few built-in cafes and galleries, as well as an auditorium, gymnasium, pool, garden, library, and a few other places... (Don't look beneath the /&>=# &!))... )
• The students and teachers have their own living areas and recreational rooms. Sometimes the students throw large sleepovers in one or two of their rec rooms, because no one's room is big enough to hold everyone; Reader, once they join the school, is being invited to these sleepovers almost every time
• The students, the mutants ones, have their mutations. Sometimes they have to take a day or two off, due to them (namely those who have feral mutations and instincts, those with mind-reading or telepathy, those with specific needs where their mutation has to be controlled, ex. Rogue wearing gloves, Scott wearing glasses, etc.)
• Reader has a mutation, but for some unknown reason, it isn't showing or known to the students or teachers... They've had tests done and had the feral mutants see if they can scent the X-gene from them (it causes a distinct scent), and so far Reader has passed each test... It's confusing for a lot of them...
• There is a dark secret buried beneath everything, something pulling a few characters' strings and forcing paths and actions... But this secret keeps itself hidden and unknown... What I can say, without spoiling anything, is that it's not one person who's behind it... It's several...
And these are a few fun facts to know about the 📒Mutant High🧪 AU!
(Thank you, ❤ Anon, or Bee🐝!) (Or BeaBee🐝!)
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vodika-vibes · 3 months
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Okay okay pretty pretty please what about alpha-17 with one of the I want you prompts—I’m leaning towards you want me now but what about in a few months and I’m not a temporary desire I’m torn over which one though so you can pick or combine whichever one you’d like idk 🙈
Forever
Summary: You have a conversation with Alpha, and redefine your relationship with him.
Pairing: Alpha-17 x Reader
Word Count: 1305
Warnings: Discussions of sex and relationships
Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni
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Your relationship with Alpha, such as it is, is an easy one. Of course, it’s not actually a relationship. Not in the way that the word implies.
Oh, sure. He spends more time with you than with anyone else, and sure, you keep spare everything on hand for him in your suites. And sure, he knows the code to your room and can come and go as he pleases.
And yeah, he kisses you like he needs you to breathe and gives you mind breaking orgasms on the regular…but you’re not in a relationship with him. In fact, you’re pretty sure that Alpha doesn’t do relationships.
Which is a shame, because you do want a relationship with him.
But if it’s not an option then it’s not an option, and you’ll just have to take what he’s willing to give you.
You pause at the thought, and scowl at your datapad, as though it is the cause of all of your problems. Take what he’s willing to give you. Like table scraps. 
Ugh.
Once upon a time you wouldn’t have been content with scraps. Once upon a time you would have insisted on a proper relationship or nothing at all.
But then, once upon a time, you had a wider dating pool. 
You purse your lips at the thought, and then power your datapad down, and attach it to the charger.
Whatever. Your choice is Alpha. Has been Alpha from the first time you met him, and will likely remain Alpha, even after he grows bored of you. Such is your life.
“Alright. I’m done for the day,” You announce to the other medics, some of them are clones, the majority of them are natborn like yourself. Some of them reply, most of them don’t. You don’t mind, it’s not like you’re friends with them.
Friendly, maybe. But not friends.
You step out of the medbay, and weave through the crowded halls, neatly side-stepping a group of cadets heading back to their barracks, and swerving around a cluster of trainers gathered outside a classroom. 
And you mentally release a silent curse when you see Jango holding court with some of the other proper Mandalorians. Of which you are not, on account of your mother taking you and your brothers away from Mandalore when you were still an infant.
He glances at you, and then glances at his chrono, “You’re taking an early day, Baar’ur.” You can hear the judgment in his voice and you’re suddenly reminded why you can’t stand Jango.
“Give me a break, I’ve been up and working since 3 am.” You mutter.
“Why so early?”
You sigh, “Because someone has to be in the infirmary just in case someone gets injured in the middle of the night. Can I go? I haven’t eaten since breakfast.”
“Just making sure you’re not skipping out on work.”
“I’m sure you are.” You reply before you brush around the group of men. Your mind locked solidly on the pizza you prepped last night and is sitting in your fridge to be cooked.
Luckily, no one else stops you and you’re swiftly able to return to your suite, where you start the oven and throw the pizza in it, before you strip out of your work clothes and into your much more comfortable lounge clothes.
And then you drop onto your couch and turn on your favorite movie. 
If today runs like it normally does, Alpha will finish his work in three hours, and will be back in your suite within four. Which gives you time enough to eat and watch one long movie, or two shorter ones.
An hour later, while you’re still eating your pizza, the door slides open and Alpha steps into your suite. He looks…exhausted. More exhausted than he normally does after a long day of training ARCs.
“You look tired, Alpha.” You note as you set your pizza back on your plate.
“I am tired,” He replies as he drops his armor on the floor, and then collapses into a chair next to you. “What are you eating?”
“The pizza I made last night,” You push the plate over to him, though he shakes his head and pushes it back, “Why are you so exhausted?”
“It’s just…it’s been a long week.” He says with a sigh. 
You shoot him a concerned look, and then take another bite out of your pizza. “Do you want me to make you something to eat?” you ask, once your mouth was no longer full.
“I just want to be with you,” Alpha replies as he tilts his head back, as if trying to relax, and then he lifts his head and he watches you carefully, “You know,” He notes, “Some of my brothers have a crush on you.”
“...I did not know that, no.” You say slightly startled, “How do you know this?”
“They aren’t very subtle about their affection,” He replies dryly. “I don’t blame them, of course. You’re perfect. But it was kind of annoying having to listen to them openly fantasize about you.”
“Openly fantasizing about me.” You repeat as you scrunch up your nose.
“There are quite a lot of doctor/patient fantasies-”
“Oh, don’t tell me that!” You say, “Why would you tell me that?”
Alpha laughs, “I thought it was funny. Especially since that’s not something we’ve played with before.” 
“And we’re not going to. I’d like to keep my job out of my bed, thank you.”
He laughs a little more, and rests his chin on the palm of his hand. Alpha watches you with a small smile on his lips, and you make a face at him, “Is there a reason you’re staring at me while I eat?”
“I like watching you.” He replies honestly, “Do you have any idea how much I want you? All of the time.”
“You haven’t exactly been subtle, no.” You reply as your face heats.
“Why are you embarrassed? After all the things we’ve done? All over your apartment-”
“Alpha!”
“I’m just trying to understand.” He continues, “Why do you blush as though this is the first time you’ve heard me say something like that?”
You huff and absently fiddle with your food, “Sometimes you say things that make me think that you won’t toss me to the side when you get bored of me.” You finally mumble.
Alpha shifts in his seat, “Get bored and toss you aside? Why would I do that?”
You shrug, “Come on, Alpha. It’s not exactly like we’re dating or anything. I’m just…” You make a face, “easy.”
Alpha narrows his eyes slightly, and then he takes your plate and pushes it to the side, so that you have to focus on him, “Stop being dumb. I want you.”
You shake your head, “You want me now, but what about in a few months?”
Alpha scoffs, “You’re not a temporary desire, cyare.”
You blink at him, “What?”
He reaches out and lightly grips your chin, forcing you to hold your gaze with him, “Let me be perfectly clear. I want you and only you. Forever. Or as long as you’re willing to put up with me.” Alpha smirks at you, “After all, I’m not a temporary desire either.”
You stare at him for a few moments, “Does that mean we’re dating?”
“If that’s the language you want to use, sure.” Alpha shrugs lazily as he releases you.
“Well, what language do you want to use?” 
“So long as I can kiss you and fuck you as much as both of us want, I don’t care about the language.” Alpha says bluntly, and he grins as you duck your head.
“Must you say it like that?”
“Absolutely.” He replies with a grin, “Hurry up and finish eating. I’m going to make it so you can’t walk tomorrow.”
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alexiswritingstuff · 11 months
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A Man And His Personal Guard. 2/2
Pairing: Gustavo Fring x Male reader.
Summary: After finally arriving at the house, both you and Gustavo continue to try and get used to each other as the night progresses. And all is well until you make another one of your comments, this time causing Mr. Fring to try block you out, thinking that you couldn’t possibly mean anything that you say.
Until he gets hurt.
Warnings! mentions of an injury and blood.
Also be aware that there might be spelling mistakes and such.
A/N: omg I really such a writing summaries. Anyway, I finally got the time to finalises the part, and here it is! My first time writing a Male reader. 
I hope I made good references to the readers gender enough in this, and actually if anyone has any tips on how to do it better please let me know. I don’t know why it seems so difficult to me.
Enjoy reading! 
More Gustavo fics.
@marksassybanana​
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previous part.
There has been many times in your life where it was threatened.
You had been through gun fights and fist fights, you have followed, sneaked up on, a multitude of dangerous people, and watched horrendous things play out in front of your eyes.
But somehow as you walked through the dimly lit rooms of none other than Gustavo Frings own home, with him about two steps in front of you at all times, it was the most tense you had ever felt.
Every movement your body made felt ridged as if you had to force yourself to do it. Your head spun in a way that closely resembled an owl to take in the new surroundings, though you were quick to face Mr. Fring when he stopped walking. 
It was then that you fully managed to process what you were seeing. 
“Whoa.”
You were stood in one of the doorways, practically gapping at the living room where everything looked like it had been neatly placed and organised. 
The look of the house from the outside was unknown to you, but with a singular glance at amount of space, and the interior, it was easy to tell that the owner was definitely not having financial problems.
Then again, it is owned by Gustavo Fring. What else did you expect?
There was some classical piece quietly humming through the room. Where it was coming from you couldn’t tell, but the attempt to find it fell short of when a voice broke through the song, “This is where, I believe, you will be spending most of your time.”
Your free hand found sanctuary underneath the material of the apron still worn, the warmness of your skin continuing to emanate within the pocket of your trousers. Your head nodded in acknowledgement. “I don’t think I will be complaining.”
“This place is... really nice.”
Mr. Fring mimicked your gesture, “Thank you,” A short smile then pressed at his lips as though it was filled with a sense of pride, “I picked out everything myself.” And it was.
The previous feeling that could even be described as fear was fading. Making way for something new that had you eager to continue the conversation, and this time not just because you needed to break the silence.
“Well, you have a good eye.” you expressed while your gaze continued it’s journey throughout the room. “And apparently a good taste too.”
To your right, there were about two rows of kitchen islands. The closest one was mostly empty, only a few items of decor placed along the surface, while the other looked more like it was owned by a chef. 
And behind that, between fuller counters, was the oven. A few pots already sat on the stove waiting to be heated.
The whole journey of being told that you would be going to this house, and then actually doing it, had your mind in such a frenzy that the thought of what the house itself would be like hadn’t even crossed your brain.
“Huh,” you blurted out after a moment, eyes still scanning over the different cooking equipment placed delicately within the cupboards and on the counter tops. “Who knew the owner of a restaurant would be a cook himself.”
It took a moment for there to be any response or reaction as the music began to seep back through your ears. And then you heard a laugh. 
Well, it was more of a huff of air, but it had your eyebrows raising nonetheless.
Mr. Frings eyes were already on yours by the time you looked in his direction. That smile from earlier was subtly curled on his lips, his gaze narrow, though not in suspicion.
“You already knew.”
Maybe it was the drastic difference of seriousness you had compared to him, or the opposite personalities clashing, that had Gustavo uncertain of your skill set. I mean, practically since you first started he had been testing your senses. Even if he got given a full reference of your abilities.
However, now, it seemed like he was finally starting to believe them. “How?”
There was almost a feeling of amusement residing in your chest upon looking at his expression. Mild wonder over a deduction he could’ve easily concluded himself.
You lightly shrugged your shoulders despite how smart you wanted to look in that moment and let your eyes flow back to set up, adjusting your grip on the clothes you still so desperately wanted to change into, “Well, I doubt a person would own a kitchen like that if they could only make a bowl of cereal.”
The comment had Mr. Fring doing the same huffed laugh as before and it had a grin begging to take over your face. Your posture even straightened, a sense of pride of your own flooding your system though you soon shook your head. “Actually, uh… It was earlier. Back at the restaurant.”
You could feel his sharp eyes on you once again. His stance was more relaxed, his hands now held in front of his body instead of behind. “The only times you left your office was to check around the building… and also to correct the people in charge of cooking the food.”
“The way you told them, the solutions you gave, anything, showed some form of culinary experience that wasn’t just from getting the brief for a job or lessons from school.” You met his gaze, an urge to take in a deep breath filling your lungs within an instant. “It’s from a lot of practice.”
The expression on Gustavo’s face remained regardless of how long you had spoken for. He really had taken you for granted.
“Very good.” he insisted through a much lighter voice and it had you just blinking for a moment. 
This entire day he had this look across his features. It was one that would dissipate whenever talking to customers, like it usually did, but the second they were gone, it resided. And the way he acted afterwards further emphasised it.
But now here he was, his gaze light and his lips curling. It had yourself mimic the same expression as you lightly bowed your head at his compliment. “You know, your face looks better like that. More handsome.”
As if someone just flicked some form of switch, and by the time you had blinked, that stoic expression he was known for in the business took over his features. It was almost startling, especially the way the muscles beneath his brows tensed. “Why do you have to say things like that?”
You blinked at him for a moment, struggling to adjust to the change of tone. “Like what?” Your eyebrows even furrowed, though you knew exactly what he meant.
“Like… that. Nonsense.”
“You think I’m lying?”
Gustavo’s body was now faced towards yours, the lines decorating his skin setting deeper. “What I think is that you need to understand the words that come out of your mouth.”
“But I do?” you pointed out, your arms crossing over your chest in a way that had the man in front of you almost scoffing.
“Sir,” Your head tilted lightly, eyebrows still furrowed in both disbelief and confusion, “Everything that I do has to have been done with a purpose, I mean-- I have to be thoughtful, in more way than one, about the way I do things so that no one and nothing gets comprised.”
“Why would the way I speak be any different?”
The music that had been long forgotten reached your ears once again as a silence layered between the walls. The two of you were stood facing each other, eyes glued on the opposite face as if trying to decipher a code.
And then Mr. Fring shook his head, breaking the eye contact by turning to the side as he began to move towards the kitchen previously being talked about. You couldn’t understand what was going on despite the fact that you could do so easily at any other moment. It was almost frustrating. 
If you were making him uncomfortable he would have shut you up ages ago, the same with if it made him angry, or upset.
So what the hell was it?
“Mr. Fring--”
“The bathroom is down the hall.”
Your foot stilled before it had properly lifted off of the ground. “What?”
“The bathroom.” He repeated, stopping himself in front of the fridge that was quite tall in comparison to his height. “You’ve been carrying around that set of clothes since you left restaurant, so, Mr. L/n…”
He gripped the handle, turning his head in you direction to meet your stunned gaze with a certain blankness to his expression. “If you would like to get changed, it is back down the hall we came through previously.”
“Just take a left instead of a right this time.”
And that was it. His attention went right back to the fridge as he now opened it, disappearing behind the silver door.
The pile of clothes was held between both of your hands. You were stood there like an innocent little animal, frozen in place, and only blinking like every five seconds as if something would happen if you made the wrong move.
“All right,” you began after a moment, clearing your throat before forcing yourself to start moving towards the hallway you first walked through, “Thank you, Sir.”
~
It was unclear how long you had been in the bathroom by the time you had actually began to rid yourself of the LPH uniform.
You had paced, practically recreated those angsty scenes in movies where they just stare at themselves in a mirror, all the while trying to adjust to the bright light above that bounced off of every surface.
These moments never usually bothered you, but that was because they never happened. Whenever someone made it clear that they weren’t keen on the way you acted, you backed off immediately and switched the approach had towards that person.
You had no idea what was going on with Mr. Fring and the worst thing was that you couldn’t just ask.
Asking him could elevate the situation, make it worse. That could then lead to losing a job and being on the bad side of Gustavo Fring. Something no one wants.
By now a headache was slowly forming from the furrow in your brow. Your fingers grasped the material of the trousers and, a little dramatically, yanked up the pant leg until it consumed your skin.
What the hell were you going to do?
It was replaying in your head. The way his face changed, how fast it switched, and his tone.
No. It wasn’t discomfort. Or anger. Like his question earlier, it was disbelief. 
But whether it was disbelief over the words being directed at him, or your audacity to say such things in the first place, was still amidst the unknown.
The tips of your fingers slightly stung due to your previous harshness, but nevertheless your trousers were on and zipped up.
A sigh passed through your lips as you grabbed the next item clothing. A plain black hoodie. You made sure that it was upside down, turning it the proper way so that you would get opening instead of a face full of fabric.
You lifted it over your head, the exhaustion from the previous day clear in the way that your muscles moved and tensed--
There was a muffled clatter from somewhere in the house.
However, that noise alone wasn’t the thing that set off your internal alert system. It was what came afterwards. A hiss.
“Mr. Fring?”
The hoodie was only half on your body in a way that meant your face was being engulfed by fabric. You couldn’t see. And trying to locate something during a moment of stress wasn’t exactly easy to do regardless of how much you trained.
So, within the next few seconds you found yourself stumbling through the bathroom, one hand held out to make sure that you wouldn’t end up with a comically large bump somewhere, while the other desperately clawed at your hoodie to bring it lower.
“Mr. Fring?” Your bare torso was layered with a coolness and when you managed to get into the hallway, and without really thinking about it, you began to jog, managing push your head far enough that it was brought to the face hole of the hoodie. 
“Sir? Is everything all right?”
By the time you ended up in the doorway to the living room your head was finally through the neck hole. Your eyes flickered around in a panic, your hands pulling the fabric down until your torso was completely covered.
There, stood in front of the farthest kitchen aisle, was Mr. Fring. He had taken a step back from what you could now see was a chopping board. 
Your eyebrows furrowed the moment you saw that his hand was clutched on the opposite wrist, though he was merely blinking at you.
You immediately beckoned forward, the situation piecing together, and it wasn’t until you were stood beside your boss that you could see what had properly happened. “Oh, shit.”
There was a diagonal slash across the pad of one of his fingers. The dark red substance wasn’t exactly oozing out, but it was creating a trail that wrapped around the digit before dropping on the floor below despite Mr. Fring trying to catch it.
“It’s not severe, Y/n, no… need to worry.” he had tried to insist, clearly unsure of how it happened himself, but you found yourself scanning through the kitchen anyway for some paper towels. At least something.
“Ah.” You moved behind Mr. Fring, carefully avoiding the knife as the only thing on your feet were socks. 
After pulling at the kitchen roll, about three pieces disconnected from the rest and you reprised your previous position, folding the paper towels until it had enough layers.
You gently held onto his wrist, trying ignore the way he pulled his none injured hand away when there was mildly contact, and placed the centre of the kitchen roll on the wound. Mr. Fring sucked in a breath.
“Okay, just hold that there for me.” you told him and he complied after a moment, taking over the role of holding the paper that was slowly turning red while you took a step back to remove the knife from the floor so that no one would end up stepping on it.
“I imagine this has happened before?” You placed the knife beside the chopping board, your eyes scanning over a half cut vegetable that sat on top, a singular blood droplet absorbing into it.
“I don’t tend to make mistakes like this.”
The first thing you noticed when your eyes went back to Mr. Fring was the expression on his face. His brows were creased, the lines on either side of his mouth deeper than they ever have been. He was staring down at the injury with resentment.
“I don’t think anyone does.”
You took the wounded hand in yours again which in turn caused Gustavo to immediately turn his head your direction.
Peeling back the soaked towel was mildly jarring to watch, and do, but you moved the hand so that it was in a direct beam of light. An attempt to gage how severe the injury was.
When the blood began to pool around the skin again, you returned the paper towel, smoothing it over as lightly as you could before bringing his other hand back to continue the pressure.
“Alright, well, good news.” you began as you leaned back, checking your own hands to see if the blood got onto your skin, “Based off of where you cut it, you will not be needing to see a doctor.”
“At least you weren’t cutting the meat yet.” you added on in an attempt to lighten the mood. But Gustavo only hummed in response. He was just looking at you as if analysing every aspect of your face.
You cleared your throat, averting your gaze from his as you subconsciously rubbed the tips of your fingers together. “You, uh-- You should move to the other sink.” Your back faced him when you walked round the edge of the kitchen aisle. 
“And why is that?” Mr. Fring questioned, finally finding his voice that held a thicker accent due to his confusion.
“Less... chance of blood stains, stops the possibility of contamination… nicer soap.” you listed off, not even bothering to turn back round as heat rose within your body.
“Just… keep pressure on your finger, I’m going to get some supplies.” You waved a hand in his direction, getting closer to the hallway while hearing Mr. Fring move to the other sink like you asked. “If it is plasters you are looking for, they will be in the cabinet above the--”
“I know.”
~
The next time you appeared in the living room a small box was held in your hands. The plasters within were definitely a lot bigger than the wound itself, so when you got closer to the kitchen your eyes immediately looked for a pair of scissors.
“I believe the bleeding has stopped now.” Mr. Fring informed as you rounded the first kitchen aisle, and that in response halted your previous mission.
The feeling of wanting to get something under control, wanting nothing more than a situation to be over and done with, made it easy to start rushing to the finish line. 
But like a lot of other things, there were specific steps to take. And ones you couldn’t miss especially if someone was injured.
A deep breath filtered in and out of your lungs as you swivelled in Mr. Frings direction and took back your place by his side after placing down the box on the counter.
You reached for the blue tap, the metal freezing beneath your finger tips, and twisted until water spilled into the sink bowl below. You barely escaped having a drenched sleeve when you pulled back.
“This might hurt.” Without really thinking, you found yourself placing a hand on the warm wrist of Gustavo’s. You could feel the way the limb tensed and the hesitance that took a moment to defeat when you began directing it towards the stream of water.
“I know… how to use a tap, Y/n.” Mr. Fring pointed out, his arm slightly jolting when the running tap met the injury, but he didn’t pull away.
“Wash it out.” was all you said, because for one you needed to move, and two it seemed that Mr. Fring was a guy that liked having control of situations. Which was probably why the Lalo thing is digging into his mind.
I mean, you were the kind of guy to feel at ease when in control of things so it was easy to understand where he was coming from... But that was usually because if you weren’t in control of your situations a lot of stuff was about to go wrong.
You swiped a pair of scissors from where they usually sat in the kitchen and set them down, switching to holding the box back in your hands. You flicked open the smallest flap and pulled out one of the sterile adhesives that, now being in front of your eyes, confirmed your suspicion.
After placing the box back down the scissors were in your grasp once again, and you readied them once the adhesive was in the correct positioning between your fingers.
“What are you doing?” You heard to your left, the water thumping louder into the sink when he targeted another part of the wound, and after the slightest glance in his direction, you began cutting. “Dry your finger.”
Soon enough, the tap had been turned off. And after a little more of what felt like arts and crafts, you now had a strip of the sterile adhesive. 
There may had been a little more of the pad than the sticky part, but there was enough to make it do its job.
The music flooded back to their ears when Gustavo was now the one to move back to your side, lightly dabbing the towel around his wound that had in fact stopped bleeding.
You could hear your heart thumping in your ears, almost in time with the song, as you began to peel back the paper covering on the plaster.
With as gentle of a touch as you could, you placed one of your hands beneath his injured one and brought it closer, steadying it. You began to ease the adhesive lightly and accurately onto the surrounding skin of the finger.
Your attention being fully on the application of the plaster made yourself blind to the fact that Gustavo wasn’t exactly worried about his wound anymore. Or even thinking about it at this point.
In fact, his eyes weren’t even directed to his finger at all. He was looking at you. At what he could see of the side of your face.
The way your eyebrows were furrowed, this time not in confusion or disbelief, but in genuine concern. 
Or the way your eyes were narrowed so that you could get everything done precisely without incident. And the way your tongue slightly poked through the corner of your mouth in attempt to aim your full brain power onto applying the small plaster.
So much care for in injury that wasn’t costing a life. Or even really hurt that much if Gustavo was honest with himself.
“There.” you breathed out in a way that snapped the guy back into reality and he straightened himself up when you smoothed over the plaster one last time, finally completing the process that definitely took longer than it would with anyone else.
You took a slight step back, failing to hide the pleased feeling from showing on your face as you admired your hard work. “Good as new.”
And then your eyes landed on Gustavo, the look still present. “You did a good job, Mr. Fring.”
“I wish I had a lollipop or something to reward you.” you added on, even fakely looking around and patting your pockets as if trying to locate an item to give him.
And though Gustavo could feel a laugh wanting to rumble through his throat, or the urge to do some form of gesture in amusement. He was still. Expression almost blank while he finally lowered his hand to his side.
“Uh… Sir?”
You had stopped everything that you were doing to help him.
You had slid into the living room on your socks dishevelled and scrambling to get the last piece of clothing properly on your body, and then immediately attended to his little injury like it was the only thing you cared about. Like he was the only thing you cared about.
Gustavo Fring had encountered many men in his life, each with either very similar personalities or very different ones. Most would not even dare to show compassion in the face of others, especially if those people were other dudes. 
But here you were, doing jobs the nicest way that you could in a business like this. Helping out people enough that Mike had been adamant about you being chosen for the job. 
Because he knew that you would care. 
Care for Gustavo in a way that no other man had... Well, not since--
Gustavo’s chin raised after a moment, life flooding back to his eyes that were still set on your own, though it had your eyebrows furrowing once again if they weren’t before. “Mr. Fring?”
“Please.” he said without a second to waste and despite both your disbelief and his own, Gustavo reached for one of your hands, and ended up holding it between both of his, careful to avoid letting his injured finger touch anything.
Your puzzled expression remained as you slowly looked from the joined hands back up to those brown eyes. And despite the many things across your face that asked Gustavo for answer. He just smiled. 
A real, genuine smile.
“Call me Gus.”
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urfavemcustan · 2 years
Text
I just rewatched the scene where Carmy talks to Marcus after he causes the fuse to go out and I was like “damn Carmy would be such a great dad” and I ended up writing this
Carmen As A Dad 
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*this is a half-baked thought* also it’s most definitely inaccurate (I have 0 kids)
You called Carmen into the kitchen to show him what you were cooking. When he opened the oven to find a sole hamburger bun inside he met your excited gaze with confusion. 
“What's this about?” He tried to wrap his mind around what would posses someone to put a singular bun in an oven (even though the reason was literally right in his face) 
“You don’t get it?” You couldn’t help but be giddy as you drew out the surprise. 
“No,” he chuckled, “I really don’t.” 
“What is that,” you pointed inside the oven. 
“A bun.” 
“And what’s it inside?” It was killing you not to just spit it out at this point. 
“The oven- oh!” His mouth dropped in amazement, “are you forreal right now?”
Instead of answering with words, you out pull the stick that clearly displays the word pregnant.
Of course he’s scared shitless.
He’s ecstatic about growing your family but a part of him doesn’t see how he could possibly be a good father.
He won’t let his anxiety get in the way of being the best husband you could ever ask for,
He fulfills any and all of your craving requests- even if the food combinations make him cringe a little inside. He actually urges you to stop by The Beef whenever your hungry and he immediately drops whatever he’s doing to cook for you.
Whenever you try to tell him you don’t need freshly made dish for each meal he dismisses it.
“Always the best for my girl, and I want our kid to have some good fuckin taste.”
The first people you tell- after your parents- is everyone at The Beef. Marcus begs to bake you guys a gender reveal cake since he’s never made one before (it’s a girl). Tina rides your ass about taking all your vitamins. Richie begs to be the godfather. Sydney 
Everyone refers to your baby as baby bear, you and Carmy are given the nicknames papa bear and momma bear. You use the name baby bear so frequently that bb basically becomes your daughter’s name. 
Carmy’s hand is always on your stomach, no matter what position you’re sleeping in.
Your water actually broke in The Beef (bc of course it would). You were stopping by to give Carmy a kiss before opening. You’ve been experiencing contractions on and off for two days so you didn’t think much of it. As soon as you started heading toward the counter to find someone to grab him for you, your water broke. Of course everyone’s busy at the back of the house.  
Richie is actually the one who finds you and alerts all of The Beef staff (earning him godfather status). Everyone stops what they’re doing to rush you and Carmy out the door. Once the baby is born, they all visit the new edition to the family. 
After you brought her home Carmen would literally just sit up in bed and let her sleep in his arms while you slept next to him. This girl is spoiled. By her 4th week of existence she owns more gold jewelry than some adults do for their entire lifetime. 
One morning you roll over at 5am and notice he’s still holding her.
“Carm?” You whisper panicking at the thought of him falling asleep while holding her.
“Yeah?” He immediately answers with the same alertness as if it were a normal hour.
“Have you been like that this all night?”
“Yeah,” he answers nonchalantly.
“Don’t you wanna get some sleep?”
“Nah.”
He’s been dealing with insomnia ever since his time in New York. It’s calmed down a little once you came into his life since he got to sleep next to you, but it never fully went away. His love for your baby only made it return 10x harder.
The one downside to holding her all night was that he wasn’t able to hold you. Eventually he misses cuddling so much he let’s her sleep in a bassinet- next to the bed of course.
“Carmen we decorated her room and put a cradle in it for a reason.”
“One more night? Please?”
Over time you’re able to get her sleeping in her room. While most couples argue over who’s getting up to check on the baby, you two never have that problem since Carmen automatically jumps up to see her whenever he hears her so much as move over the monitor. You don’t even get a chance to offer to get her.
Sometimes he would just get up and stare at her. 
------------------------------
this kinda surprised me because I NEVER write domestic/pregnancy stuff but I actually enjoyed this
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gamerbearmira · 10 months
Note
More spiderwoman au ideas!
First and foremost, Mirabel already has her own room. She got it when she was 7, but seeing as the room was still in the location of the nursery. Antonio still slept in there, but Mira didn’t mind, tonito was a cute and calm baby. 
After Antonio didn’t get a gift, he got an additional room in her room. Both have their own side for privacy & such. 
Casita hides both their spider suits once they come back from fighting crime. They know it would be rare for anybody except Dolores and Camilo to go into their room but just to be safe, Casita hides them. 
Speaking of Casita’s walls, Bruno doesn’t live in them. Yes, he disappeared, but he disappeared a few neighborhoods away from Casita. He has a good paying job and a nice living space, and yes, he still has rat babies. But not as many, he has about 3 of them. 
I feel Bruno had seen both spider bites before they even happened. So now Bruno just worries for them but still cheers them on from the sidelines. 
Because Gwen doesn’t really have a place to stay, she often stays with Mirabel. Though VERY discreetly. Casita also made a small living area for her, similar to Bruno’s in the movie but with more feminine touches. 
Isabela and Alma still be runnin their mouths about La Aranaposa and Arana nino. And as always, Camilo and Dolores be defendin the two heroes.
“Why is someone so young out there, that “Aranaposa” should be ashamed of herself for letting that child be so close to harm” - Isabela
“Si, he could get hurt at any moment” - Alma
*insert Mirabel and Antonio who just got back from fighting*
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“Abuela, haven’t you ever stopped and considered that maybe they were both born with those powers and maybe thought they should put them to good use? haven’t you ever stopped and considered that maybe this whole city would be in shambles without them?” Dolores said politely but sternly
“And Isa, it’s been 6 years since Aranaposa came about and a year since Arana nino came around, don’t you have ANYTHING else to talk about? Anything, idk, NEW in your life?” Camilo added with an irritated tone as he also looked at Alma in the corner of his eye. 
“NO politics at the table please” Julieta kindly chimed in as she harshly softly slammed her fist against the table. Julieta has grown tired of these conversations every other breakfast, lunch, or dinner. 
I decided to change the family dynamics, everybody is fine with each other. Julieta and Pepa take time off when they need to and so do the gifted grandchildren. Alma is trying her best to be a good abuela. Before Bruno left he wrote a note addressing the families issues, how alma is the cause of most of them, and how they need to be fixed. So, for the past decade the family has been relaxing and only put their powers to use for emergencies or for fun. 
So Isabela and Alma talking about the spider heroes stems from a place of concern and worry, the family knows that, but it’s still annoying. 
I have a feeling Antonio is a very independent kid because of his duties. I mean yes, he still loves his parents and goes to them for advice, but he does a lot of things on his own. For example, he used to let Mira or his parents read him bedtime stories. But he’s so tired from helping with battles that he can barely stay awake for them. So he either grabs a book and reads it himself or just goes to sleep. 
 Hobie had said at some point that the one of the things that is known about spiderman is their independence. So Antonio held onto that with a tight grip. 
All the family hears from the boy now is “no thanks, I got it” “Nope, I got it” “It’s alright, I can do it”
If he wants something as simple as pb & j or just a sandwich he’ll make it himself, and seeing as he has an easy bake oven, he mostly makes lunch or food by himself. He’s actually a pretty good cook. I saw in your drawing that Antonio gave Miguel some Arepas, so let’s just say Antonio made those for him. 
When Miguel says to lego spiderman “your one of our best” I like to think that the other best he’s talking about is Jess, Mirabel, and Antonio. Like seriously, Jess can beat an enemy on a motorcycle WHILE PREGNANT. Mirabel can take out mysterio with one punch and Antonio can take out the hobgoblin with one kick. Which he has.
Oh yeah, they call Jess, Tia. Why wouldn’t they? She's Tia material. 
Mirabel and Antonio had caught about 3 anomalies together, and 3 anomalies on their own. 
“And there’s mysterio-” Lyla
“Caught that weirdo” - Mirabel
“Mz-stereo” Lyla
“I helped catch that one!” - Antonio
“Even though I told you not to” - Mirabel
“Was I supposed to let her wreck our town? I don’t think so” Antonio
Oh yeah, even though not everybody likes the two spider kids, people do like to do some stuff where they know they are appreciated. Such as painting the two on some walls, leaving gifts, etc. 
Gwen taught Mira how to play the drums and Hobie taught her how to play the electric guitar. And Antonio likes to help Pavitr feed the street dogs in his universe
Because the internet is a bit much Gwen started out small and gifted Dolores, Camilo, Mirabel, and Antonio Ipods. The spider teens love giving them song recommendations. 
Mirabel’s favorite song is self love by Coi leroy, recommended by Gwen
Antonio’s favorite song is hummingbird by Metro Boomin and James Blake, recommended by Miles
Camilo’s favorite song is silk & cologne by ei8ght and offset, also recommended by Miles. 
Dolore’s favorite song is link up by Don Toliver, it reminds her of hanging out with Mariano, recommended by Margo. When listening she just has to keep the music really low. 
I feel like Dolores, Mirabel, Camilo, and Antonio’s favorite music genres are R & B, modern pop, y2k pop, and 90’s rap with some occasional rock songs recommended by hobie. When it comes to listening to rock Dolores has to keep her noise canceling headphones on, then listen to it. 
Like every spiderman in school, the two are bound to miss some classes but thankfully they have good excuses. Just to let you know Mira missed about 6 classes and Antonio has missed about 4. 
Miles should have never given Mirabel, and by extension Camilo spray paint. He introduced them to the idea of graffiti; they were amazed by it. The two only use it for good things such as giving an old or new shop a touch up. The designs are always spectacular and match the theme of the shop so no one can really get mad. 
Antonio loves playing with mayday, he finds her adorable. He also likes to play with spider cat and spider rex. 
STOP THE SPIDER DUO HATE IN ENCANTO 2k23⁉️⁉️⁉️
No but seriously. Can’t keep letting this slide. Not that they others are letting it slide 😭 mfs went OFF, really came for them huh. And they just let it happen because they both know that the other two are right 💀
Also let Camilo have access to spray paint <333 don't withhold his supply, let him do graffiti❗ Also iPods. Omg i think my cousin had one and she gave it to me when i was like 8 or 9 😭 but their taste in music is peak, especially wit that R&B and Y2K 🦅🦅🦅
W to Antonio for being an independent kid, L for Alma and Isabela for obvious reasons
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candyflossfairy · 1 year
Text
Long Days (Steddie)
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𝑠𝑢𝑚𝑚𝑎𝑟𝑦: After a long day at work, Steve needs to relax. A little beer, a little pizza, a little weed....and a little Eddie.
𝑤𝑎𝑟𝑛𝑖𝑛𝑔𝑠: 18+ only, Trans!Steve, fingering, oral.
𝑤𝑜𝑟𝑑 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑛𝑡: 1.1k
𝑛𝑜𝑡𝑒: requested by @goblin-eddie and @eddiemunsonsteddybear based off of this art!
It had been a long day at work for Steve; Robin had called in sick and their only other coworker was out of town right now, so he had to handle the record shop on his own. The full day. Eight a.m. to eight p.m. No breaks. Eddie had, thankfully, stopped by to give him lunch and a pee break, but other than that he’d been working for twelve hours. 
Not that it was a very hard job. Most people came in knowing what they were looking for, found it, and checked out. Others needed more help; suggestions, music similar to other music. Steve had to call Eddie a few times to ask his opinion on bands similar to Metallica, and some other band he’d only ever heard Eddie say before. 
Still, it was a long ass day for him, and he was ready to chill the fuck out, smoke a joint, eat some shitty food, and sleep.
“Eds? I’m home!” Steve hollered as he stepped into their shared apartment. He put his keys on the hanging loop by the door and walked further into the living room.
“Back here!” Eddie called back. Steve couldn’t tell if he was in the bedroom or the bathroom, but it didn’t matter all that much. Steve grabbed two beers from the fridge and set the oven to preheat. He was just going to pop in leftover pizza Argyle had made them the other day. He didn’t feel much like cooking and Eddie only really knew how to make sandwiches and spaghett — neither of which Steve felt like consuming.
Steve peeked into the bedroom before turning around to peek in the bathroom. Eddie was sitting in the bath, bubbles up to his chin and his hair tied up in a messy bun on his head. 
“Care to join me, monsieur?” Eddie grinned at him, pushing some bubbles away to make room.
Steve thought about it. He really, really did. He pursed his lips before shaking his head. “Not tonight, babe.” He really wanted to get high and eat pizza. “I’m gonna roll one and throw that pizza in the oven from Wednesday.” 
Steve handed Eddie the extra beer in his hand before he went off to the bedroom to grab their materials. Paper, grinder, bud — check.
After settling on the living room couch, Steve popped open his beer and threw on some random TV show that he would pay no fucking attention to while he started grinding up the hash. Eddie still sold drugs, which was a thing that Steve only had a problem with sometimes, but it made for having good weed around when he needed it.
He dumped it into the paper and rolled it, licking the edge to seal it off. He twisted the ends and leaned over the couch to grab a lighter from the side table. 
He lit up, and sat back, releasing a heavy sigh and a cloud of smoke above him. 
The oven beeped. 
Joint in mouth, Steve stood and walked back into the kitchen to throw the pizza on a tray and then into the oven, setting it for ten minutes. He came back and took another drag before closing his eyes.
“Gonna share?” Eddie’s voice came from next to him, and Steve peeked open an eye to look at him. 
“Hm?” He asked, with a cheeky grin.
“You know what, don’t play dumb.” He laughed, reaching over to take the joint.
Eddie took a long hit off of it before passing it back. He was naked, having not bothered to put on clothes after his bath. Steve didn’t mind it. Not one bit. 
In fact, in his hazy little mind, even seeing Eddie soft was causing a tickle between his legs. 
He bit his lip, before pulling Eddie in for a kiss. It was deep, longing, and a little lazy as their tongues gently flicked against one another, tasting, savoring. 
He loved it when Eddie tasted like beer and weed. It was one of his favorite things. 
Eddie seemed to be wasting no time as he tugged at Steve’s shirt, pulling it over his head. Steve shifted the joint from hand to hand, making sure it didn’t get caught in fabric as he was disrobed. 
Eddie’s fingers were quick to unbutton and unzip Steve’s jeans. Then, they were at Steve’s lips.
Steve knew what he wanted, so he sucked them into his mouth, getting them nice and wet before Eddie pulled them back. His hand slid down to softly rub at Steve’s clit, teasing him as he kissed him deeply again.
Steve’s legs shook softly from the stimulation, still sensitive from their quickie this morning. He groaned as Eddie sunk two fingers into him and curled them, pressing into that spot inside of him that made his vision go blurry. 
The only noises in the room were the sounds of his cunt sucking Eddie’s fingers in, and quiet moans from Steve; muffled by Eddie’s lips. They were like that for a while, before Eddie pulled back. 
His lips kissed down Steve’s chest, fingers now back on his clit to rub delicate circles over it. He got down to his pubis and his tongue snaked out to taste him — then the oven beeped.
“Shit,” Steve sighed. “Pizza. Can’t let it burn.” 
“I’ll get it.” Eddie chuckled, standing up and heading into the kitchen.
Steve placed the joint back between his lips, his heart thumping in his chest while he waited for Eddie to come back. He was taking his sweet as time, and he knew it too.
“Eddie, come on! Fuck—” He groaned, tipping his head back. 
“I’m here, I’m here.” Eddie grinned, and took off Steve’s shoes before pulling his jeans further down. 
Steve didn’t wait any longer, once one leg was free he was grabbing Eddie by the hair and pulling him back down to his cunt. 
Eddie’s tongue lapped against him, and Steve was a moaning mess. The joint rested, forgotten, between Steve’s fingers in Eddie’s hair, holding him there as his hips undulated upwards into Eddie’s mouth.
“Fuck, fuck,” Steve groaned, his eyes fluttering as he pressed against him. 
Eddie slowly slipped two fingers into him again, pumping them in and out of him in time with his tongue work. Then; Eddie sucked hard on his clit, making Steve shudder.
“Fuck, I’m gonna cum!” Steve moaned, unable to help himself now as he looked down to watch Eddie’s mouth on him.
Just another nip to his clit caused Steve to become undone, his legs shaking and his back arching against the couch as he held onto Eddie’s face, grinding into it.
A shiver ran down Steve’s spine as he relaxed back, lifting his hand from Eddie’s head.
Oh yeah, the joint.
Eddie shook ashes from his hair with a soft laugh and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand before leaning up to kiss Steve.
“How about that pizza?”
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thatsarcasticgemini · 2 years
Text
Kitty
hybrid!Chishiya Shuntaro x female!reade
Hello again! I am back, after more than 1 year, to continue this story. I will make no excuses, just that i promise to finish this series until this year ends. This story was inspired by @rainsoughtflowersand i hope they like it and forgive my big ass break. Sorry for any spelling mistakes. And sorry i can't get the taglist to work. I'm not sure how to.
Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4
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The first night in his new home was the hardest, but Chishiya got over it. The rest of the week was smooth sailing. They ate breakfast and dinner at the same table, not together tho, as the hybrid refused to even look at her. He ate lunch alone, in his room and had the afternoon to himself. He liked that her schedule was perfect and she indeed came back at the time she promised she would. She tried to get him to join her for movies or go shopping, but he declined every single bonding offer. Y/N however didn't seem to mind. She would sigh every time, but not say anything. He was actually starting to enjoy this routine, until friday afternoon came around.
He was sitting on his bed, nuzzling a little into his pillow, when he heard her speaking on the phone. This time was diffrent, as she wasn't talking to her boss or a colleague from work. This time it sounded as if she was talking to a friend. Curiosity got the best of him and he got off the bed to check. He only opened the door a little bit, just enough to her what she was saying and could only imagine how the other person responded.
"So I take it she likes the new house. I am extra glad. I can't wait for you to throw a house warming party."
"He seems to be adapting pretty well. He's a cat tho, so i wasn't expecting him to give me cuddles right away. You know how cats are: they only want affection at a certain time. He's pretty nice, considered how many times he's been returned to the shelter."
"Of course, of course. Sweet Kuina could never. She is the biggest sweetheart. I really hope Chishiya will at least come out of his room tonight. I have to go take the potatos out of the oven. Please remind Kuina to not overstep. He is a pretty reserved cat. See you tonight! Love you."
Chishiya was taken aback. Tonight? Kuina? Overstep? Now it all made sense. He thought she cooked a larger amount of food so that she wouldn't have to cook on the weekend. But no. She cooked more cause she was having guests over. He was also upset. How could she not tell him? Sure, this was her house and these were people she trusted, but he also happened to live there. He knew he could talk to her about it, but decided againts it. Instead, he strolled to his desk and pushed everything on it, exept his laptop, on the ground. He was sure she would here and hoped she'd be mad enough to take the invitations back.
But of course that wasn't the case. All Y/N did was dash in to make sure he wasn't hurt, clean the mess and promise to replace everything that got distroyed in the process. She didn't scold him, so he decided to swallow his pride and speak up.
"I find it rather rude of you to invite people here and not tell me." She looked a little shocked, but her face heated up almost instantly.
"I didn't mean to upset you. I meant for this to be a surprize. Ann is the woman i was talking to. She's a friend of mine. We've known each other from highschool. Kuina is a dog hybrid she adopted 5 years ago from a colleague at work. This colleague of hers was neglecting poor Kuina and Ann decided to help. They are both extremely nice and i am sure you'll enjoy their company. I'm so sorry you feel bad. And you don't have to come out of your room at all. I just wanted you to meet another hybrid. Who knows, maybe you could be friends. But no pressure. Don't worry."
Chishiya didn't say anything, looking at the mess on the floor. Y/N wasn't being mean and he knew that, but it still didn't stop him from frowning and avoiding her gaze. He didn't take his eyes off of the floor until he heard her leave and close the door behind her. He then moved to lay back down and rest his eyes until the pair got there.
He was woken up by the chatter from the other end of the hall and the sound of constant thumps. Stretchings his limbs slightly, he got off the bed with a yawn. He rested his ear against the door, just in time to hear a clearly excited voice of a girl.
"Is he in the one you were talking about? Is he here? Is he in this room?" He moved back as the voice got closer, just in time for the door to open. A head poked through. It was a girl with dog ears.
"Are you Chishiya?" But then, just as the dog was about to come in through the door, a hand found its on her shoulder, pulling her back slightly. The hand belonged to the person who spoke next.
"Kuina! Get back here. You're supposed to knock. Y/N told you Chishiya is not a very social cat. This is his safe space."
"Sorry Ann. Sorry Chishiya. I got excited. I'm Kuina."
Chishiya only looked at both of them for a bit, not saying anything. Kuina was still on the doorstep, tail swinging from left to right gently, waiting for an answear. When she realized he was not gonna say anything, she started talking herself.
"Your room is nice. I like sharing a room with Ann when she lets me. I don't really like sleeping in my room alone. But it seems you always sleep alone here."
Chishiya found himself starring at her. She was...somewhat fun. He smirked a little and all of the questions flying out of her mouth.
"You're actually smile. I never knew cats could smile. You look kinda scary tho. It's not an "i like your voice" kind of smile, it's more of an "i want to kill you and eat your eyes" kind of smile. Is that normal with cats?" Chishiya took a breath in and decided to answear her.
"I don't wanna eat your eyes. They look gross. All of you does honestly. You smell like hair spray, grass and ciggarette smoke. It's not a pleasent smell."
"And he speaks. Only he insults me in the first five seconds." Chishiya shrugged. She did seem fun. But his social battery was gone. She had been in his room for more than ten minutes and it had drained him of every ounce of energy he had.
"You don't seem all that offended. Do you think you could bother your owner? Or anyone else but me, for that matter?"
"Ann doesn't like being addressed to as my owner. She says she's like a friend. Or a roommate. But yea. Sorry i got all in your face. I don't have a lot of friends. Save for another two dogs, Arisu and Usagi and a fox or cat, i dunno, Niragi. I'm sure Y/N will have you meet them at some point. Your room is nice. See you, cat."
"Close the door behind you. And call me Chishiya!"
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avecra · 2 years
Text
Enriched
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summary: Four times Bucky proves to you that relationships can be healthy and loving, not toxic and suffocating.
pairing: mob!bucky x stark!reader
word count: 4.3k
warnings: angst, but mainly fluff, mega hurt/comfort, descriptions of blood, references to abusive marriage, alcohol consumption, bucky being s o f t
a/n - this is a bonus one shot for my series Deception but can be read separate, more bonus content is coming soon :)
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The smell of marinara hit Bucky as soon as he stepped foot into the foyer. He slipped the black blazer from his shoulders and dropped it onto one of the couches before he made his way into the kitchen to see you stir a pot on the stove.
Long pajama pants and an old NYU shirt covered your frame as you stood in front of the oven. Making sure you could hear his footsteps, Bucky made his way over to you and wrapped his arms around your waist. A soft sigh left your lips.
“Hi, sweet girl,” he whispered into the back of your hair. You turned in his embrace and wrapped your arms around his neck and placed a kiss on his cheek. “Smells amazing in here.”
You pulled away from him and grabbed the empty mason jar that was coated in red sauce on the inside. “My dad made a whole bunch of sauces and I thought we could try some tonight. It’s been awhile since I got to cook for you.”
Bucky pressed a kiss to your temple. “You know you don’t have to do anything for me, sweetheart. Having you here with me is plenty enough.”
“I know, but you work so hard all day,” you said quietly, loosening his tie. “You deserve to come home to your favorite meal.”
Warm lips pressed against yours in a quick, chaste kiss before Bucky pulled away to lean against the countertop. You turned back to the stove and stirred the pot of marinara sauce and turned over your shoulder, “Why don’t you go change? It’s not quite ready yet.”
He nodded and pressed a quick kiss to the back of your before swiftly making his way out of the kitchen. Dumping a bag of angel hair noodles into boiling water, you placed a lid on top of the pot and quickly made work of putting a salad together before turning to the empty jar.
You wiped the edge of the jar with your thumb and placed it back on the counter. It missed your gaze when you set it on the edge of the countertop, causing the jar to topple to the marble floors with a crash.
Glass slid across the floors, small pieces pricked your skin, but you paid no mind to it. Eyes wide with panic, you fell to your knees and hastily tried to pick up the pieces, ignoring the sudden stinging of glass cutting into your palms.
Tears clouded your vision and you sniffled and wiped your eyes on your shoulder, shallow breaths escaping through your lips.
Clean up after yourself for god’s sake.
Your ex-husband's voice echoed throughout your head and you suppressed a whimper, reminding yourself that you were safe and Bucky would never be angry with you.
“Shit, shit, shit,” you whispered under your breath, throwing shards of glass into the trash. You quickly turned back, checking if anyone was near the doorway. There were a couple of splashes of marinara on the white tile and you did your best to wipe it away.
Frantically, you tried to pick up the smaller shards with your fingers, but Bucky’s voice stopped you in your movements, “Hey, hey, hey, what happened, sweet girl?”
At the sound of his gentle, soft voice, you wanted to burst into tears. You looked up at him and his eyes darted down to your bloody hands, “I’m so-sorry, I didn’t mean to drop it. I’ll clean it up, I promise.”
A single tear rolled down your cheek and Bucky caught your wrists in his grasp and gently helped you to your feet. “No, baby, you’re okay, it’s okay. Accidents happen, I’m not mad I promise,” His lips grazed your forehead as he led you away from the mess of glass and towards the sink.
You silently watched as he gently sprayed water over your palms and you leaned into his embrace, sniffling when his lips grazed over the crown of your head. He gently patted your hands with a towel before leaning you to sit at the counter.
“Are you okay, sweetheart?” Bucky asked as his hand dug through a drawer, looking for the first aid he kept in the kitchen. You nodded and kept your gaze focused on his chest, noticing his dark sweatpants and the old Stark Industries shirt from his youth.
He hooked his finger under your chin and guided you to look at him and instinctively, more tears filled your eyes. You didn’t have to explain, Bucky understood why you reacted the way you did. He had known the way your ex-husband had treated you and how it was still engraved in your mind.
Wordlessly, he pulled you into his chest and you felt his hand coax along the back of your sweater. You leaned your cheek into his embrace and wrapped your arms around his waist until you fisted his shirt.
“I’m sorry,” Your whisper was muffled against his shirt and you felt him shake his head. His lips pressed against your hair and he pulled back to gently cup your cheeks in his hand.
“You don’t ever, ever have to apologize to me for anything,” Bucky whispered, resting his forehead delicately against yours. “It’s okay. I promise you’re okay, love.”
You leaned in and pressed a light kiss on his lips, tightly gripping onto his forearms. Dinner was long forgotten as you stood wrapped in his embrace. “I love you.”
Bucky smiled and pressed his lips to your forehead. “I love you, too.”
---
Trudging your way to your room, a heavy tension set in your head and on your shoulders. The long nights of working had led you to this moment, but you were too uneasy about the upcoming deadline.
There were nights Bucky had found you at your desk, asleep and hunched over files and blueprints of projects. He had always woken you up with a sweet brush of your hair and his lips pressing into your temple, encouraging you to lie down in the bed with him.
You wanted nothing more than to wrap yourself in blankets and sleep until the drowsiness evaded from your body, but there was work that needed to be completed.
Opening the door, you were unprepared to see Bucky sitting on the bed, the buttons from his suit were unbuttoned, revealing the tanned muscle he hit under. Upon hearing you stumble in, Bucky lifted up his head and a smile broke onto his face.
His arms opened up and immediately you made a beeline for him and wrapped your arms around his neck before lowering yourself on his lap. His hands rubbed soothing circles across your back and you melted into him.
“Long day?” he murmured against your hair and you nodded and pressed a lazy kiss to his neck.
“Just had a lot of work today,” you mumbled, Bucky hummed and held you tighter. His lips grazed your forehead and he suddenly pulled back, cupping your cheek gently in his hand.
“You’re a little warm,” His hand slid from your cheek up to your forehead and his palm rested flat against your skin. “Are you feeling okay, sweet girl?”
You nodded against his palm and looked at him with drooping eyes. “‘M just a little tired. I don’t think I slept that well last night.”
Bucky smiled at your exhausted demeanor and held you to his chest. “Can’t have my sweet girl not getting her rest,” A tired smile crossed over your features and you pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Why don’t you get washed and ready for bed while I make us some dinner? I think you should rest at least one night before going back to your work.”
You sighed softly and nodded. The workload that you had taken on was unhealthy, having spent several hours working on your projects even after leaving the office, spent hunched over a desk scribbling away at blue prints.
Bucky often found you sleeping and carried you to bed before the ache in your neck and back could settle in. You watched with tired eyes as he gently placed your pajamas on the bathroom counter before turning on the shower to your liking.
“Just try to relax, sweetheart,” Bucky’s soft voice made your skin tingle and he helped you undress and step into the shower. “How does soup and some bread sound, hm?”
“Sounds good,” you whispered and looked at him with a look of admiration. Some days were easier than others, but you were grateful to have Bucky with you by your side through everything. He leaned forward and pressed a kiss on your temple before leaving you to yourself.
The warmth of the water seemed to ease the tension from your muscles, but the weight remained on your shoulders. An inkling feeling about not making the deadline on time sat deep in your bones, even with the amount of work you were putting in. It also didn’t escape your notice of the lack of sleep you were getting, only getting a couple hours with Bucky. When he awoke in the early hours of the morning to get ready for the day, you found yourself awake as he went through his morning routine. It wasn’t until he pressed a kiss to your forehead and left that you would start to get ready.
You lost track of the amount of time you spent under the water. Your hair was tied up and out of your face and you stood under the showerhead, letting droplets cascade down your exposed back. It wasn’t until Bucky knocked on the door to let you know your food was ready. Only then did you shut off the water.
Quickly, you dried yourself off and dressed into your pajamas and joined Bucky on the bed. You ignored the tension in your head and took small bites of the soup, though it only seemed to grow more with every passing second.
Drowsiness began to take over your senses, Bucky noticed when you nearly spilt the remains of your dinner over the soft bed sheets, and he took the bowl out of your hand. The pressure in your head made it almost unbearable to sit up.
You sunk into the pillows, completely unaware of the maid that handed Bucky a few medicine bottles and took the dishes away. Ever so carefully, he pulled the sheets over your body and ran a hand down your arm.
“You need anything, honey?” Bucky whispered and you reached your arms out for him. He chuckled and flicked off the bedside lamp before climbing into bed with you.
His arms wrapped around your waist and you rested your head against his shoulder. His hold on you was gentle and delicate, his fingers rubbing into your exposed skin to soothe you as his lips grazed your forehead and whispered, “Sleep, I’ve got you.”
You were hoping a good night’s rest would ease the tension from your body, that way you could wake up feeling refreshed, but when you awoke the next morning, you felt worse than when you lied down.
There was a sharp pulsing pressure in the back of your head as you sat up against the pillow, wincing at the sunlight that poured into the room. Tears sprung to your eyes as the constant pulsing did not relent, only intensifying with every passing minute.
The creaking sound of the door being opened  reached your ears, making you press your face against your pillow with clenched shut eyes. The door softly shut and soon the sunlight from the room disappeared instantly.
What felt like a damp towel was spread across your forehead, a small gasp passed through your lips as you peeled your eyes open to see Bucky lean over you with a sympathetic smile.
“Hey, sweet girl,” Bucky whispered, running his hand between the junction of your neck and shoulder. “how’re you feeling?”
“I have to get ready for work,” you mumbled out, slow in your movements as you started to throw off the covers, but a gentle hand to your wrist halted you in your movements. “No, Bucky-”
“Honey, with all due respect, you look terrible,” You glared at him with tired, hooded eyes, but you couldn’t disagree with him. You did feel terrible, the more pressure in your sinuses and head than at the bottom of the ocean. “You need to stay home and rest.”
A whimpering sigh left your lips, but you knew he was right. Still, you moved past him to get the medicine bottles that sat on your nightstand, but Bucky pressed a hand to your shoulder, taking your hand in his other.
“Buck, I’m just getting some pills,” you whined.
“Stop, sweetheart, let me get them for you,” His face contorted with concern as he popped the bottle open and slid two white pills onto his palm and grabbed the glass of water. He faced you again and transferred the pills to your palm, and placed the glass up to your lips. “Let me take care of you, sweet girl.”
The thought of bursting into tears crossed your mind, but you pushed that down. You looked at him, tearing up when he placed his hand delicately on the side of your face, his thumb caressing your flushed skin. “Okay… will you at least let my dad know?”
“Yes, I’ll call him in a few minutes. I’m working from home today, so I’ll be right next door if you need anything, okay? Just knock and I’ll be here.” You nodded, eyes slightly drooping. “Just get some rest, baby. I love you.”
Bucky pressed his lips to your hairline and you smiled at him before closing your eyes and muttering, “Love you, James.”
---
“You feel okay, sweet girl?”
Bucky’s voice tore your gaze away from the window and over to him. You glanced down at the tuxedo and cleared your throat and nodded your head, running your sweaty hands down your dress. You never were good
“You know I can have Collins drive us somewhere else if you don’t feel up for this.” he offered, but you grasped his hand and shook your head.
The last time you went to an event like this, it ended with insults your ex-husband hurled at you on the way to your home, which felt more like a penitentiary than anything. You had held in your tears until you found your haven in your sanctuary.
“No, it’s okay,” you reassured him and reached for his hand, squeezing it. “This is a really important night to you. You don’t want to miss something this major.”
“It wouldn’t be the first time he ditched a party, miss. He does it more often than one might think,” Collins chimed in from the driver's seat, his eyes darting up to meet yours in the rear view mirror.
Bucky playfully scoffed and slid an arm across your shoulders. “C’mon, Collins. Don’t be out here spilling all my secrets and truths,” He turned to you and gently grasped your chin. “I promise it’s not as big of a deal as Steve made it. We can go get ice cream instead?”
You looked over at him and your stomach fluttered. It still surprised you how well Bucky was able to read you, despite having spent years apart from each other; he could read you like a book. He knew exactly when you were okay, and when you weren’t. He knew the days where you gave in to the mess that swarmed your mind.
And he was always there to help ease you out.
So, you looked at him and set a hand against the stubble on his chin. “I’m okay, I promise.”
He looked skeptical, but nodded nevertheless. “You’ll let me know if you want to leave?” You  nodded. “As long as you’re okay, then that’s all that matters.”
A small smile graced your features and you leaned towards him and placed a soft kiss to his lips. It still warmed your heart how much he cared for you, how he was willing to disregard anything for you. It still took some getting used to.
Pulling up into the driveway of the lavish house, Bucky’s door was opened and he stepped out, reaching his hand out for you to take. With a deep breath, you latched onto Bucky and allowed him to guide you out of the car, a gentle hand to your elbow calmed your nerves.
“James, I’m so glad you could make it,” A voice tore your attention away from the feel of Bucky’s hand sliding around your waist. A man, who you presumed to be one of Bucky’s colleagues, stood in front of the two of you.
“Of course, Jack. Wouldn’t miss it for any reason,” Bucky replied, sending you a wink and you bit your lip to suppress your giggle.
“Come, come, let me show you inside,” Jack made a move up towards the doors and you and Bucky followed. You gently laid your hand over his that was on your waist and he leaned forward to press a kiss against your temple.
As Jack led you into the grand house, you noticed Collins follow you. You looked up at Bucky, but he merely leaned close to your ear and whispered, “Just for precaution.”
The blues of his eyes calmed you instantaneously and you relaxed into his hold. Bucky always had at least one of his closer men accompany the two of you whenever you found yourself at events like this. Usually, it was Sam or sometimes Scott.
Stepping into the active party, you curled closer to Bucky’s side as a few men walked up to him. His hand soothed circles on your waist and you grasped his fingers. You spaced out the conversation, instead placing your gaze on the decorations of the party. The extravagant silver and gold and black designs reminded you a lot of how your father decorated even the smallest events.
“You wanna get a drink, sweet girl?” Bucky’s voice sounded in your ear and you looked over at him and nodded.
“What do you want me to get for you?” you asked, beginning to unravel yourself from him, but he tightened his grip on your waist.
“I’ll come with you,” Bucky smiled, excused himself from the two men and led you to the bar, away from the crowd. “A glass of rosé and vodka on the rocks, please.”
Bucky sent you a wink and pulled out a chair for you to sit on. You grabbed his hand and ran your fingers along the lifeline on his palm, tracing the outline of his fingers. Your drinks were placed in front of you and Bucky placed the glass of wine in front of you.
“This feels familiar, huh?” Bucky said, referring to the night nearly a year ago when the two of you met after years of exclusion. You smiled and nodded, leaning forward to place your lips on his.
“Excuse me, sir,” Bucky pulled away from you to find a man standing in front of the two of you. “Mr. Thompson has requested to see you.”
Bucky sighed and looked at you, reaching out to wrap a hand around your waist, but you halted him by placing a hand on his cheek.
“It’s okay, you can go,” you told him softly and you leaned forward to place a kiss on his cheek. “I’ll be okay, Bucky. Besides, I have Collins to keep me company, right?”
Bucky nodded. “Yes, yes, of course. Collins,” The man made his way over to you and Bucky patted his shoulder. “Keep her company until I return, please,” Collins nodded and Bucky turned back to you. “I won’t be long, I promise.”
You smiled and pressed a quick kiss to his lips. Bucky was reluctant to leave you and you had to practically push you to get him to leave. Once he did, you sat and made small conversation with Collins about anything.
The situation was oddly familiar, but different. You never liked going to these types of events, but with Bucky it made it easier to tolerate. You didn’t feel on edge, or tense like something bad would happen at any given moment.
Bucky made you feel safe, safer than you had ever felt in a long time. His men took a quick liking to you and you would always try to initiate conversation with them when you could to get to know them better.
You were too caught up in conversation with Collins you nearly missed Bucky coming back towards you. There was a fast pace in his steps and he came up to you and wrapped an arm around your shoulders.
“Hi, handsome,” you giggled, kissing his jaw. Bucky breathed in your scent and sighed.
“Hey, beautiful. Let’s get out of here, yeah? I know this really great ice cream shop that has your favorite,” he offered and you nodded, taking his hand as he nodded to Collins. He helped you out of your seat and wrapped an arm around your waist.
You couldn’t help but melt into him and once you were both safely in the car, you leaned against his side. “You’re the greatest, you know.”
Bucky looked down at you and smiled and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “You deserve it.”
It only made you fall more in love with him.
---
It was nearing one in the morning as Bucky sat at the bartop in the kitchen, nursing a black coffee that grew colder and colder by the second. He strolled through his laptop, gazing at different oil paints he thought you would enjoy.
Natasha had taken you out for a girl’s night, something you had never experienced, and Bucky wouldn’t be able to sleep without knowing you were safe in his arms.
He trusted Natasha would look after you, hell he even trusted the woman with his own life. But his need to protect you doubled whenever you were away from him. Though Sam was with the two of you, so Bucky relaxed a little.
Sam might’ve been a major pain in the ass to Bucky, but he was a good friend, always looking after you even when Bucky never asked. He knew Sam loved being around you, always telling you embarrassing stories about him.
The door suddenly opened and Bucky heard the hushing coming from Natasha and your muffled giggles. He shut his laptop shut and made his way to the foyer, where he saw you leaned up against Natasha.
The jacket you had on was slipping over your shoulders, revealing the shirt you had underneath that showed just a sliver of skin. Bucky chuckled and made his way over to you and when you caught the sight of him, your face lit up with excitement.
“Bucky, my love!” you said a little loud, your words slurring together and you threw yourself at him. Natasha held her laugh in, falling slightly in her step.
“Was expecting her tolerance to be a little lower, but she is very loud,” Natasha giggled out.
Bucky adjusted his hold on you and gazed down at you. You looked up at him, eyes glazed, a small hiccup escaped your lips. “Hi.”
“Hi, sweet girl,” Bucky sweetly murmured, brushing a strand of hair away from your eye. “You ready for bed?” You nodded and he wrapped an arm around your waist and glanced back at Natasha. “Thank you for taking her. If you want-”
“I am most definitely passing out in that room with the couch,” the red head cut him off with a sly smile. “Good night, Barnes.”
Bucky shook his head and guided you up the stairs to your shared room, taking one step at a time. He knew you would wake up with a blistering headache, and he was more than prepared to take care of you.
“How was your night, baby?” Bucky asked, pushing the door to the bedroom open and led you to the bed.
“Was fun, Nat and I had fun,” you said, giggling at the feeling of Bucky’s hands gently unraveling the jacket from your shoulders. He kneeled down and slipped your heels off, massaging your heels with his palm. “Missed you.”
“I missed you, too,” Bucky replied, carefully peeling your shirt and shimmying your jeans down your hips. You fell back against the soft comforter, looking at Bucky as he reached for your pajamas. “Let’s get you into your pajamas and then I’ll take off your makeup.”
More giggles passed through your lips as he slid the shirt of your bare skin, pulling up a pair of shorts as well. He disappeared for a moment before returning with remover wipes and your moisturizer.
Carefully, he spread the cloth across your face, taking off foundation, lipstick and eye shadow, all while you moved your head back and forth. “Th’t tickles.”
“Gotta get your makeup off, honey. It’s bad for your skin,” Growing up with a mother and sister, he learned from a young age how important skin care was, his mother had even roped his father into it and soon enough all of the Barnes’ knew about skin care.
“You take such good care of me,” Your small voice broke the silence and Bucky looked at you with a smile. He placed small dots of moisturizer around your face and gently rubbed it in.
“Because you deserve it, sweet girl.” A tear slid down your cheek, but Bucky wiped it away before it could touch the blankets. He kissed your cheek and helped maneuver you to lay down against the pillows.
“Are you comfortable?” Bucky asked as he fell into the bed beside you, pulling you into his arms. Your eyes were barely open and you let out a hum before nuzzling into his neck.
“I love you, Bucky.” your voice, albeit slurred, reached his ears, and his hand slid across your back before he placed a kiss on your forehead.
"I love you, sweet girl.”
And you knew, deep down, that you were finally secure with the man you loved. Safe, and finally happy.
273 notes · View notes
wynndynights · 2 years
Note
Hi! Um I was wondering if you could do a draken x shy male reader x Mikey (poly plz)
Reader wants cuddles but it to shy to ask his boyfriends
I understand if you don’t wanna do this, no pressure!
I absolutely can! This was such a cute ask, I got so excited about it when I got it!! I'm sorry it took so long for me to respond, and I really hope you enjoy it. Hopefully it meets your expectations well, and sorry if I misunderstood the prompt in any way.
~~~~~
~~Poly Draken x M! Reader x Mikey~~
Summary: Draken and Mikey get some soft afternoon cuddles from their shy boyfriend
Warnings: Nothing but pure soft fluff ahead!!
AAAAAAAAAAA I love poly stuff it's so cute!!! Hehe anyway enjoy <3
~~~~~
It was another quiet afternoon in your apartment. The evening sunlight filtered through the curtains, casting a light orange glow on the room. Draken had just gotten home from the store, having gone out to get items to make the three of you dinner. Mikey, on the other hand, was sitting at the dining room table, cheek pressed against the wooden surface as he drooled, slumbering away peacefully. 
From your spot sitting on the sofa in the adjoined living room, you were able to watch the two of them with a small bashful smile. You had always been more on the quiet side, but despite your shy personality, you had been lucky enough to meet and grow close with the two boys who you now called your boyfriends. Now, on most evenings like this one, the three of you would find yourselves hanging out together in your apartment, relaxing and enjoying each other's company. 
You watched Draken move around your kitchen preparing dinner, careful not to make too much noise so as to not wake the shorter blonde haired boy. You always enjoyed watching him cook. Growing up with all the girls in the brothel, he had learned to do many of the more stereotypically "feminine" household jobs. Rather than finding it odd though, you thought it was quite endearing. He always looked so calm and focused on these chores, and it was a nice change from the usual stressed expressions caused by Mikey's shenanigans and struggles with the gang.
He looked up after sliding the food into the oven, his eyes meeting yours and a light smile tugging at the corners of his lips. You looked down at your lap shyly, a blush creeping onto your cheeks at the fact that he had caught you staring. He made his way over and sat down next to you, placing a hand on top of your head and ruffling your hair lightly.
"How are you doing?" he asked, tilting his head to be able to meet your eyes again. Yet another thing that you found endearing about him. Even when he had other things going on, he always made time to check up on his boyfriends.
"'M alright," you mumbled shyly, shifting slightly in your seat. You wanted to move closer to him, to snuggle into his side, but you had always been on the more nervous side when it came to instigating physical contact. 
As if reading your mind, Draken scooted closer to you on the couch, smiling softly. He put an arm over your shoulder and pulled you gently into his side, resting his head on top of yours and reaching to hold your hand.
"Glad to hear that, baby." Draken smiled patiently, used to your usually short responses at this point. He had never minded much. He knew that was just part of your personality, and he loved you nonetheless. "How long has Mikey been asleep?"
"Since a little after you left-" you replied quietly. As if awoken by the sound of his name, Mikey stirred in his seat, raising his head and looking around with groggy eyes. His gaze finally settled on the two of you, and he rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, smiling lightly at the sight of the two of you cuddled up on the couch.
"Ken-chin, you're back," he hummed happily, slowly getting up from the table and making his way over. You blushed lightly again as he sat on your other side, wrapping his arms around you and snuggling his face into your shirt. "Sorry I fell asleep, (y/n)-chan," he hummed sleepily. 
"It's alright." You shook your head quickly to dismiss his apology and he smiled, snuggling into you further. 
"How long until dinner's done?" Mikey questioned, sniffing the air lightly as the smell of the food cooking started to drift in from the kitchen. 
"Not too much longer," Draken replied. Your lips turned down into a light pout knowing that your cuddles were going to be cut short, but as if reading your mind once again, he smiled lightly. "I promise we can go right back to snuggling after you've been well fed though, Mister. And until it's ready, I'm not going anywhere," he assured you.
You smiled shyly and nodded, allowing him to wrap his arms around both you and Mikey, pulling the two of you closer so that he could reach to place a light kiss to the top of each of your heads. 
"Love you both," you hummed quietly, snuggling further down in between the two other boys. 
"Love you too!" Mikey chirped up happily, pecking your cheek softly. 
"I love you too, (y/n)," Draken replied softly.
The three of you fell fairly quiet after that, enjoying the warm cuddles in silence. You knew that soon you would have to get up to continue going about your lives, but for now, all three of you treasured this small moment. In the midst of school and their running the gang, times like these were rare, but that only made you treasure them even more. No matter what might happen, you loved your boyfriends, and they loved you. And here, in this small, peaceful moment, that was all that mattered.
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pricklenettle · 1 year
Text
Beats Per Minute
AO3
Word Count:  9,590
tw: dissection, gore, body horror
Prompt from @ghostlyhabato
Clockwork is not as he seems. Despite saving Danny, he has an ulterior motive for getting the boy to trust him, and a plan that neither Danny nor the rest of the Ghost Zone would be keen on. Somehow, Danny finds out about it. Is he able to stop Clockwork, or is he no match for the Master of Time?
~~~~~~~~
Maddie pulled on the disinfected gloves. Made of thick black rubber, they almost went up to her shoulders. All the better to keep ectoplasm staining to a minimum. She wrapped a long plastic apron around her front. It was bulky and the clear plastic made crackling sounds whenever she moved but it would make for easy cleanup. She chuckled, it wasn’t too different from wearing oven mitts and the pink frilled cooking apron Jack had made her for when she baked cookies.
Jack had already finished his preparations. The pump was primed and humming, the containment tank’s light was on, revealing floating sickly green bubbles behind the glass. There were ghosts floating, suspended in the operational tanks beside it, but this one they’d kept empty. The operation table was unfolded in the middle of the floor, and all the other gadgets he’d invented for dealing with mostly intangible beings were all ready and waiting. He’d moved on to setting out her tools, organizing them side by side on the trays with nervous energy.
She eyed the orderly rows, gangrenous light from the portal bouncing off the stainless steel blades. She smiled reassuringly. “We’ve done plenty of animals, this one will be a breeze.”
Jack bobbed his head back and forth sucking on his teeth in concentration. “I’m not worried, the Fenton Ghost Restraints have held a ghost bear! It’s just strange, is all, how we finally got him. And I don’t like being in such a rush.”
“Well I’m not going to look a gift horse in the mouth, and I’m certainly not going to let the GIW get their paws on him. They’re probably running through their paperwork as we speak.” Maddie tied her apron around her waist and pulled her hood down, settling the goggles over her eyes. “Alright, ready to get him out of the trunk?”
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵👻
Jack slammed the trunk of the GAV open. The vehicle was off but it wasn’t dark inside, a soft pearly light was weakly emitted from the entity lying on the floor. It wasn’t strong enough to illuminate anything, but it sent an involuntary chill down Maddie’s spine even with all her experience.
Jack hovered over her, a big orange shadow, anxious to follow her directions. “When he’s not flying around causing havoc with the other ghosts it’s easy to forget this guy was a kid when he kicked the bucket.”
Maddie appreciated his comment, it made her realize her thoughts had been slipping dangerously in the same direction. If her mind wasn’t sure, and her scalpel wasn’t exact it would only cause undue damage and wasted time. She analyzed the white scrunched up face, leaking ectoplasm out of a bruised nose and cut forehead, and getting it all over the GAV rug. The sluggish green liquid would stain horribly. Its white hair shivered unnaturally in the still air, and she could feel the dip in temperature when she stuck her hand out toward it.
“Phantom might have been a kid once, or its appearance could be an illusion to make Amity Park residents more likely to sympathize with it, or it could be a branch of the ghost zone itself, reaching out to push into our world like a mindless drone scout. Its ecto-signature is so similar to readings taken directly from the portal, how can he exist so effortlessly in the human realm? Whatever it is, we’ll find out more once he’s on the operation table.”
Jack immediately brightened at the thought of testing their many, many theories. This would open the door for them into a realm famously unknowable since the first cells gathered together in the chemical miracle of life. Dr. Frankenstein had nothing on them. Jack scooped Phantom up. The ghost seemed tiny in his arms. The anti-ecto strips in his orange suit would counteract any intangibility that might let a weakened ghost slip away. He bent so Maddie could stick it with her needle. The ghost's head lolled on his neck. She could see the tendons and bones moving beneath his skin, it was amazingly easy to find the carotid artery. She pressed the tip of her needle to his skin to unload her syringe.  
That was strange too. According to their theories, ghosts were ectoplasmic reflections of things that left an intense emotional stain when they passed on from this side. On the inside many ghosts weren't much different from the blob ghosts that floated through ectoplasm dense air like zooplankton. How many ghosts out there had such realistic articulation? Maddie wanted to bounce on her toes with excitement just thinking about it.
They chatted amiably on the walk back through the house down into the basement. The house was dark, she didn't expect Jazz or Danny would be back for a while. Maddie and Jack tossed ideas and strategies back and forth. Delight roasted warmly in her stomach, she always thought best and most clearly with Jack beside her, and his thoughts added such a unique twist to any of her endeavors. Capturing the number one enemy, dissecting him together in their own lab, all the knowledge they would gain, and staying ahead of the government; tonight was shaping up to be quite the pleasant evening.  
~~~~~┏(-Д-┏)~
Phantom woke up sometime as they were going down the stairs. He made a muffled noise and weakly kicked. Jack squeezed him tighter. "None of that, Ghost scum."
Maddie hurried her steps. "Get him on the table, we have a while yet before he's dangerous again, but I don't want him waking up any more than he has."
Jack laid him on the table almost gently. Phantom tried to sit up, but Jack's hands were firm and heavy. Phantom's mouth worked. It looked like he was trying to use a swollen tongue with a deathly dry mouth. His inhuman green eyes were wide as saucers, they followed Maddie around the lab as she got her notes ready and wheeled the table with her instruments closer.
Jack strapped the restraints around his wrists and ankles. Phantom still hadn't made as much protest as she thought he would against the two ghost hunters that had been chasing him since his first appearance. Perhaps he was more out of it than she'd calculated. Jack was making whatever fiddly adjustments he needed on the machines. He pulled out one of these collapsible gadgets from underneath the table below Phantom's head. The middle piece looked like an oxygen mask, but on either side it was attached to a series of clear plastic tanks and tubes. He lowered the mask over Phantom's mouth and nose. Though ghosts had no need to breathe, the facial orifices were still often the most effective way to introduce a foreign substance. For an instant, Maddie imagined she saw the whisper of condensation pearling inside the dome of plastic over the ghost's mouth. She tensed, but Jack flipped the machine's switch and gas swirled through the tubes to cloud the oxygen mask. The left side was green with gaseous ectoplasm harvested directly from the ghost zone and concentrated into its purest form. It would keep pumping strength into the ghost as Maddie dug around in its insides. It should keep it stabilized even while its body was put through stress. The right side was pale and smoky, a sedative more effective than a hard knock to the head or the quick shots Maddie had been giving him. Even as she watched the green glowing disks of his eyes lowered into acidic slits. Phantom looked even more alien with the machine obscuring the bottom half of his face.
She exchanged a glowing look with Jack. This was the moment they'd been waiting for. She picked up the chalk. She pressed one palm against Phantom's chest. Even through the gloves, she could tell the suit he wore was thick and slippery, black as an oil slick. The body below her hand was surprisingly solid. She paused there, as though sensing there was something she'd missed.
Her heart skipped a beat when she felt it rise under her hand. A hitching inhale, a deep exhale. She sought Phantom's eyes. They were still lowered. Two glowing dreamy crescents. His irises wandered aimlessly underneath his lids. She shook her head. A trick, to put her off her guard. She noted it anyway, having Jack file it under physical characteristics. She'd figure it out when the ghost was opened up.
Without further ceremony, she chalked the long, skinny capital 'I'.
~~~~~~~ཀ༼ༀ༽ཫ་
The first layer she peeled back was the suit. It was slippery but thick and flexible with the same sort of texture as their own jumpsuits. She took samples to analyze on their own later. When she had time after wading through the solid feast of information laid out before her. To her surprise, there was skin underneath. It was pale and emaciated, but undeniably skin; with freckles, shadows of ribs, and scar tissue. One interesting, but almost completely faded scar branched from its right arm like spiky starbursts to its left collarbone, up its neck, and down its side where it likely extended to its foot. She pressed her fingers to its stomach. It moved like real skin. squishing gently in the gut and slipping over the ribs. She stepped aside so Jack could take a photo of the scarring.
She pressed the scalpel down. Gentle but persistent pressure, and the ghost's best parody of flesh parted easily to reveal dull green muscle. Jack used a cotton swab to dab away the pooling ectoplasm. Maddie was awed. She'd never suspected such detailed insides. She was doubting even more that such a powerful cognitive structure could belong to a harmless child ghost. What child knew the texture of muscle and exactly how they were supposed to lay under the skin? And brought it with them into death? She pulled back this layer with short precise slices.
Now the rib cage was exposed. The bones were blackened as though charred. She pressed a gloved finger against the curve of bone. She scratched her thumbnail against the surface, it didn’t flake like it had been burned or leave a residue on her fingers. It seemed the color had simply been inverted. She passed an arm over her face, sweating in spite of the cold air. She held out her hand to Jack. Wordlessly he placed the saw into her hand.
Tink. Tink. Plunk. Shards of bone hit the tray. Gummy green ectoplasm splattered messily. Maddie dropped the saw next to the pieces of black rib. They were stained all the way through, that being the only noticeable difference from regular bone. Another thing to study more closely.
She'd only taken out the left bottom few ribs so she could get at the organs she could already see pumping underneath it all. They didn't have time to waste on any more. Maddie could practically feel the GIW crawling in her neck hair. She reached into the small hole she'd made, grateful for small slender hands. She'd found the stomach and was groping for a scalpel when the basement door creaked open.
"Mom? Dad?"
It was Jazz. She couldn't see them yet because of the ecto-tank, and a curtain they'd set up before they started. Maddie quickly yanked her arm out, grabbing a roll of paper towels off the table. Jack was sitting in the computer chair, camera hanging from one hand and notebook almost slipping off his lap. He was clearly unnerved. If the ghost could disturb her husband, it would horrify her daughter. She tossed the soiled paper towels to the floor. She cast an analytical eye over the scene, she could admit the child ghost, even with his inhuman features, spread across the observation table looked pretty grisly. Both of them would benefit from a breather.
She pressed a hand to his shoulder. "It's all right, Jack, I'll talk to her. You go get a snack."
He lumbered out of sight, the fudge she hid above the fridge no doubt on his mind. She untied her apron and tossed it aside.
Jazz stared down at them from the landing. She took in their disheveled, splattered state, but it wasn't unlike them to get a little dirty in the normal course of their work. Jazz didn't comment. Maddie decided that she wouldn't even bring up Phantom's capture. Jazz could be a little squeamish sometimes and she had a clear soft spot for that ghost in particular. The ghost that lay half disassembled on their table at that moment. Maddie suddenly felt terribly weary.
She mustered a tired smile for Jazz. "Hey, sweety. Are you hungry? That chili should still be in the fridge."
A normal teenager might have shrugged but Jazz was above that. "I am fine, I just thought you two were going out?"
"Yeah, we were, but what could be a better date than working in the lab together?"
That made Jazz huff. "Whatever you say. I came down here to ask you if you'd seen Danny?"
Maddie cocked her head. "What? Why?"
Jazz looked away, arms crossed with the elegance of a heron, far beyond her years. "I was just wondering. Sam and Tucker were asking. Let me know if he stops by, alright?"
Maddie's eyes narrowed. It wasn't like Jazz to ask them something she could figure out herself. She must be a lot more worried than she was letting on. "Of course we will, are you sure everything's alright."
"Yes, Mom." Jazz groaned impatiently.
She turned to go but Maddie stopped her. "If you're not sure where he is we can help look." she thought regretfully of Phantom in mid operation, but family was really more important.
A pencil line appeared between Jazz's eyebrows. She looked from her to Jack coming up behind with arms full of fudge and what looked like a few girl scout cookies. "No, it's no big deal. And I wouldn't want to tear you away from whatever new weird invention you guys are bonding over."
"What's this about Danny?" Jack asked.
Maddie answered. "Jazz was asking where he was, she's worried about him."
"I didn't say that." Jazz said. "But yes, he isn't answering his phone and he never showed up at Tucker's house."
"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, sweety." Maddie soothed. "Danny knows his way around Amity and he's got a clever head on his shoulders believe it or not." Jazz didn't seem to be convinced. There was something else going on, Jazz seemed far too off kilter. Maddie still couldn't believe that Danny was actually in any danger, but it made her uneasy. "Jack? Would you like to go look with Jazz?"
"Huh? Are you sure honey? What about our--- ah, project?"
"I can manage on my own. It'll just come along a lot slower, and I'll miss you. It's okay though, better make sure everything's fine and then you can come back and finish it with me." Maddie was relieved. Jack's stomach was made of strong stuff, not many things bothered him, but she suspected he'd been actually and truly perturbed. It was good he could get a real breath of fresh air.
"Sound's good, Mads!" Jack cried. He grabbed Jazz and whisked her away. "We'll be back in no time."
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵༼ つ ╹ ╹ ༽つ
The basement lab seemed eerily silent without Jack's big boisterous presence. She wouldn't lie, he was the one who made things fun. On her own, it was easy to slip into a monotonous, cynical autopilot. It was a shame because the creature she was studying was a priceless treasure.
Phantom hadn't moved from how she'd left him. She tied the apron back on and got back to work. Dread spread through her mind like ink in water. It had been growing all this time, she realized, like a balloon inflating above her head, and now it had got so big it filled the entire lab, leaving no room for her. Her heart squeezed, and a chill passed through her. She gritted her teeth and viscously threw the feeling away. It was just the ghost taking advantage of her loneliness and worry over Danny, affecting its surroundings with what small ecto-field it had left.
She pulled out an armful of intestines and piled them on a tray. The LED lights flickered. The ghost was toying with her, even drugged senseless. She fought the urge to snip the organs out entirely and see just how Phantom liked that. She took a deep breath through her nose and forced herself to keep working steadily.
Out came the liver, the stomach, the spleen, one kidney, she couldn't seem to find the other one. As she rooted around looking for it, she risked looking at the ghost's face again. His eyes were still barely open, the slivers were almost flashlight bright though, probably from the increased density of ectoplasm.
"Don't look at me like that," she said. "You're the one who came out of the ghost zone where you belong. Maybe you don't even realize how destructive you are to our world. Your obsessions, your careless rages, no thought to the humans you've endangered even the days you only fought the other ghosts." She sighed, wondering if the exhaustion of culminated months were visible in the weight of her eyelids. All the complaints from justified ghost attack victims, all the sleepless nights, all the frantic inventions made from scratch to somehow deal with the ghost infestation. The time stolen from other things that were supposed to be more important than ghost hunting. It had started so innocently. A passion project. Now the ever present glow of the portal was inescapable, a literal haunting. Phantom's eyes were blind and reactionless. Nothing but a hollow husk for her to confess to. "I suppose we're at fault as much as you are. After all, you couldn't be here if we hadn't cracked a hole through the universe with our own obsession. Ah, found it."
The second kidney plopped onto the pile. "Looks like everything's here so far. I was starting to wonder if you were an organ donor."
She moved up to the chest cavity. Things immediately became more interesting. She carved out the diaphragm, pushed aside the yellow-green sacks of the lungs (Which were still, to her bewilderment, gently rising and falling like silly balloons) to find the bruised heart nestled in the left lung. It pumped. Miraculously and impossibly, if slowly. And there, squeezed into the right lung's space like a distorted mirror image of the heart, was Phantom's core.
It glowed a gentle white, like his aura. But her view of it was obstructed by strange growths. Tiny crystalline shards clung to it like a hoard of bees pressed to their hive. When Maddie brushed her hand over the prickly growths they came away easily as though they hadn't been attached at all. Before she could catch them, they'd fallen to scatter in the gooey recesses of Phantom's body. They sparkled under the harsh LED light. Maddie cursed, it was going to be such a hassle to pick them all out. She held one up to the light. It was clear, almost iridescent like spun glass, and about the size of her thumbnail. It was covered with uniform spikes, the shape reminded her of star candy, or maybe the garland of hand blown starry night Christmas ornaments Maddie carefully packed away every year. This was the most inhuman thing she'd found. She suspected it would be the only thing. She'd pay good money to bet that when she opened up his hands, every single minuscule bone and tendon would be accounted for. What a strange exception. These barbed star shapes should have caused a lot of internal damage, at the very least punctured a lung. But those were ghosts. They weren't really real in the same sense she was.
She suddenly was reminded of all the reports of Phantom hanging around the old broken down observatory. Sightings on new moons, and clear skies of Phantom just floating, high above. Whenever there was any notable astronomical phenomenon, it was good chances he'd be around. Always staring up.
Maddie dropped the star in the metal tray where it plinked softly. She was grateful for her rubber gloves when it loosed a small static charge into the metal tray. The lights flickered again.
She gathered two handfuls of stars, careful not to let any more fall. Now she could see the core clearly, she couldn't help admiring it. The core gleamed like abalone shell. It was a smooth oblong shape that really did seem perfectly set to mimic the heart. Strange green veins grasping it tight like roots.
She'd seen cores before in the animals they'd dissected, and she'd read theories about them. But somehow, standing before a fully developed core of a strong ghost seemed different. Something awe inspiring, and something she shouldn't be seeing. Her hand hovered over it, her fingers long shadows over the strange alien organ. To use such an unscientific term, it felt brave, and young, and yes there was something about the celestial in how the light moved inside the core. He really did love space, didn't he? It hummed as she drew closer, and her fingers started to freeze with cold. Terror shot from the nerves of her hand as though it was a message from her own brain. Terror and a complicated layering of other emotions. Disturbed she drew her hand back.
Phantom's center. Pure ectoplasm and theoretically, the ghost's memory, fuel, and drive all rolled into one. Without it, there would be no obsession, no shape to take form around. It's heart and brain together. It was one of the reasons why most ghosts didn't need either of those other things.
So why did Phantom?
Maddie stumbled back from the table. Suddenly feeling shaky for no reason she could figure out. This ghost was really, actually messing with her head. For all his quips and puns while awake, all his differences to other ghosts, she'd never thought it would be this biological similarity that she should have expected to find in the first place, to unbalance her.
She dragged back her goggles, blinking in the suddenly brighter lights of the lab.  She resisted the temptation to rub her tired eyes with her gory hands. She looked again at the piecemealed ghost on her table. The star growths looked even more sparkly on her tray now. Like childish dreams in crystallized form.
She looked down at her arms, the gloves stained green to the elbow. She'd just slogged through an (almost) perfectly accurate sample of a human body and she looked it. Ghosts were not supposed to have that. Period.
She jumped when her phone rang. It sounded almost angry as it repeated the chirping, obnoxious ringtone. Unwillingly she turned away from the ghost to figure out where she’d left it. It just kept making that blaring noise. She found it in the pocket of her evening coat she’d discarded in the excitement on a relatively clean bench. She removed one of her rubber gloves so she didn’t smear green over everything. She felt like she was missing something huge. Something so important, she’d almost grasped it before her thoughts were interrupted. What was worse was she didn’t want to admit it, so she was less than genial when she switched it on and snapped, “Hello,” into the receiver.
“Mads!” came Jack’s voice.
Maddie sagged against the bench. She glanced back, still all too aware of Phantom behind her. “Oh, good. Did you find him?”
The unusual silence on the other end was answer enough, Maddie felt her heart rate pick up. “I’m sure it’ll be fine Jack, Danny will be waltzing back before dinner and tease us for worrying.”
“I’m not so sure dear. The kids… Jazz didn’t seem to want me with them, and Sam and Tucker kept whispering. I feel like something’s really wrong. And they know more than they’re telling me.”
“Well, you know how kids that age are,” Maddie suggested almost hopefully.
Jack grunted, clearly not convinced, and muttered something about possession and dangerous ghosts. “I’m almost home in the GAV. I think the kids might have ditched me. Not sure though. Do you want to start our own investigation?”
Maddie was about to respond when Jack cut back in. “Maddie.” He said, a dangerous edge to his usually jovial voice. “There’s a roadblock in front of our street.”
Maddie stiffened and cursed. “No way, it’s been peaceful as the grave down here. Are you sure it’s them?”
She heard the sound of an engine on the other end. “Wait I’m backing up— oh dear, didn’t see that. Anyway, it all looks very official and normal like regular road work. But I’ve never seen those fellows with a mass of unmarked, white vans. Have you?”
Maddie’s lip quirked. She looked up as though she’d be able to see the GIW agents gathering over her head. Did she hear something upstairs or was it coming from the phone?  “No, I can’t say I have.”
Jack hissed. “Mads, looks like they’re unloading some serious, sweet looking machinery. Be careful. Here they come to talk to me. I hope you got as much as you could out of that spook!”
The phone hung up with a beep. Maddie stared at the black screen.
She sprang up over the bench to sprint up the stairs. She shot the bolt too, and then for good measure, slammed down the old rusty lock Jack had invented for their lab on one of those dull rainy days when he was too full of ideas and energy, and then proceeded to never use the overcomplicated thing until now. She flew back down. She pushed tables into defensible positions, clearing her notes away into horrible sloppy piles. She was being so logical she hardly knew what she was doing.
The lockers built into the wall opened with a press of her fingerprint. The mechanism clicked, and she wrenched the door back. She pulled down gun after gun. They were all ecto based, made for hunting ghosts and nothing else, but they’d still pack a punch against a living breathing human. She stuffed what she could into her jumpsuit, and slid the rest under the tables to bump softly against a leg of the dissection table. Net gun and Foamer, Jack o’ Nine Tails, and Anti-Creep Stick™. She brushed her hands over her bazooka before hefting it over her shoulder and joining the rest of the stuff next to Phantom.
Now, for sure she could hear movement upstairs. That’s when her brain caught up to her. She was being so sensible she’d completely missed the fact that she was going to have to hand Phantom over without a fuss.
She and Jack had already discussed it. It wasn’t fun but the GIW wouldn’t give them much choice, and better to abscond with first pickings than die on an unnecessary hill fighting with the government for scraps. Let the GIW take the ghostly leftovers like the credit stealing vultures they were. At least, that’s what she’d said on the drive over.
She was still puzzling over her actions when she heard the doorknob rattle. She cocked her Fenton Bazooka. There was a grunt on the other side and a bang as the door was busted off its hinges in one clattering hit. Jack’s poor invention didn’t seem to work well after all. Maddie stayed silent. They wouldn’t be able to see her or Phantom with the curtain drawn in between them and the door. But with the portal spinning behind her casting unearthly light over everything, they couldn’t miss that this was the place they were looking for.
The first booted foot thudded down onto the stair.
On the table, Phantom stirred. His eyelids fluttered woozily. She stared down at him, a sick feeling rising in her gut that had been steadily growing ever since he’d been strapped to the table. She ignored it. She vastly preferred that than acknowledge the failing of her logic and reason. The green beating heart and pulsing lungs flashed before her eyes. The glow of the core and the crystalline structures that littered his body like an ingested galaxy. What an interesting ghost. She set her teeth, safely out of the way of her tongue to avoid injury in the wild situation that was cautiously stomping down the stairs toward her. She braced her bazooka against her shoulder.
It seemed she’d made a decision without even realizing it. Whatever happened? She was not going to let the GIW steal her specimen.
“Dr. Madeline Fenton.” rumbled a dry voice beyond the curtain. The first man had hit the bottom step. “You are harboring a level seven ecto entity, code name, Phantom at the top of the wanted list. Illegal under the anti-ecto Act. It has been deemed too dangerous for civilian researchers. It will be confiscated immediately and transferred to a more secure site. Your cooperation is greatly appreciated.”
“I think I have this quite under control, Sirs.” She said, raising her voice. “But you fellows are trespassing. I’ll tell you once to get off Fenton property.
The deep voiced speaker clicked his tongue. “Dr. Fenton. I expected you to be smarter. You know we wouldn’t be here if we didn’t have the jurisdiction. We have complete authority to do whatever we want to you and your family. Now use that logic you’re so fond of. We both know you’re not going to threaten your continued work here over a ghost. No matter how fascinating. Hey, I’m sure the higher ups will even clear you to work on him.”
It took a moment for Maddie to sort through which dumb initial went with the voice. “Agent K. We caught Phantom first, fair and square. Me and my husband are perfectly capable of taking care of it ourselves thank you very much. If you take one step more, you’re facing a lot of messy paperwork.”
She could hear his backup gathering behind him. Any hint of personality in his voice went dry. “I repeat, you are harboring a level seven ecto entity. He will be confiscated with or without your cooperation. Come out with your hands in the air or you will be fired upon.”
“Oh, will I just.” Maddie scooped up the Jack o’ nine tails and swept aside the curtain with the barrel of her gun.
The line of huge men in white suits started for just a millisecond at the huge barrel she was pointing at them. That was enough to bring up the nine tails and release streamers of electricity in every direction.
The men screamed and went down like bowling pins. A gun went off, and glass shattered. A stray tail hit one of the overhead lights and it fell with a shower of sparks. Most of the men were down. The smart ones (or maybe just the lucky ones) had managed to doge the electricity and were pulling themselves back together. Maddie tossed aside the spent Nine Tails and fired the bazooka from her hip. Ecto blasts exploded through the lab. White suits were instantly singed and stained with black and green.
Half of the agents still standing hurtled for her barricade of tables, and the other half took shelter behind their swat shields to train weaponry on her. A circle of green light glinted blindingly off the scope of a government issued rifle.
Maddie dove to the side behind the metal counter. Bullets whined in the air. Flat on her stomach, Maddie pushed away the bazooka and crawled over to the Fenton Foamer. She crawled back to the corner of the counter and peeked out to where the first buzzed heads were poking out of their table foxholes. Someone barked an order and the agents climbed over her barricade. She pulled the trigger. Green foam, freezing cold, with the speed of violent elephant toothpaste poured out of the nozzle. It hit the first man in the chest. He toppled backward, and the foam followed, piling on top of the agents with gummy density.
A few had escaped by being quick on their feet or going around the table. She rolled to one knee and threw the Foamer at the first one. It hit him on the forehead with a klonk and he fell like a stone. For the others she pulled two ecto-rays from her suit. Their compact design meant they couldn’t store a lot of energy, but it worked plenty well in a pinch. She unloaded the entire store into their chests. Their steps slowed under the barrage. Then their jaws went slack and they dropped. The two ecto rays were smoking. At a glance, she could see the gauges on their sides were completely empty. She tossed them away and pulled out her phone from her pocket.
“Any luck, Sweety?” She asked, sneaking a look around her counter. It looked like the GIW had retreated for now beneath the stairs. A few barrels were still stuck out like pins, but they weren’t going to come out for a bit. They had to seriously reassess their situation. She crawled back to her pile of weapons.
Jack made a frustrated noise. “I’m still wrestling with these damn goons, no matter what I say they won’t let me through. The guy’s standing right in front of me. He’s talking about all this paperwork and stuff. Have you met him? He’s got this rat nose, and sort of mushroomy, pouchy eyes. He’s dressed up like a construction worker, as though anyone with eyes couldn’t tell he’s one of the ghost secretaries that are always calling you up. Who are they kiddin? I hate dealing with the GIW— Yes I said GIW, are you serious, of course I know what branch you’re from, stop sweating so much, Man. Alright, I’m not mad, this is just getting very frustrating, and you’re not being very helpful.”
“Sorry it’s not going so well.” Maddie picked up an invention, squinted at it, then tossed it back on the pile. Maybe she was fussing, but she was sure they had the perfect tool to deal with this somewhere. “I actually have some bad news.”
“Not more ghost secretaries in costume, I hope.”
“No, no nothing like that. I’ve just decided not to give Phantom up to the GIW.”
There was a moment of silence while she could feel Jack processing this. “Well,” he said, in his loudest too jovial voice. She winced, she could tell his blood pressure had just skyrocketed. “At least I don’t have to deal with this joker anymore.”
“Exactly. I’m going to need a ride. If we can just get Phantom out of the picture, I’m positive we’ll be able to reason with them. Just get down here. You can run the secretary stooge over with the GAV for all I care— wait no, don’t.” Her brain ran, suddenly seeing a way out of this mess. A vision of that beating heart sharing space with the core shoved itself before her eyes and she pushed it away. “You’re going to use the back door.”
“We don’t have one Sweety.”
“Sure we do, we built it ourselves.” She turned to smile sweetly at the quietly spinning vortex built into their basement wall. Her hand closed around the Anti-creep stick and she hefted it absently, reaching for a sort of harpoon looking thing underneath. “I’d use the specter speeder, but it’s decommissioned for repair right now and I need to deal with these fellows, I can’t turn my back for long. But I think we know someone who’s built their own ghost portal.”
“That’s just a guess though, Mads!”
“He’s shown too much interest in ours. He knows the theory and the engineering you put behind the first prototypes. Put that together with the extra ghost sightings around his house and it’s a very, very good guess. Now it’s going to save us. Oop, I think the GIW are starting to move again. Love ya!”
“Good luck dear, show those white washcloths who’s boss!”
Click. She slipped the phone back into her pocket. She looked up, from her crouch she could just see Phantom’s boots pointed up from where they were tied to the table. His gloved fingers hung over the side next to her head, gleaming white.
“What are you?” Maddie breathed.
She needed so much more time with him. She needed to run blood tests, study the heart, see how all these organ structures held up over time. Would they dissolve immediately into formless ectoplasm when removed from the body and the core? And that core. It was almost like it had been shoved into his chest cavity with no thought, which didn’t make sense next to the intricacies pumping and living in a perfect simulacrum of humanity all around it. It was like there was a veil before her eyes. The truth was staring her right in the face. So why didn’t she want to look at it?
She was interrupted by a cold press against the back of her neck. She carefully turned to look into the emotionless face of Agent K and the others who’d sneaked up on her while she’d been distracted. She was furious enough to spit like a cat, but she forced a serine smile onto her lips and leaned back against the observation table. “Sorry about that, K, this subject is just so interesting. Don’t you think?”
“Put your hands up,” K growled.
Maddie’s hand was still on the Anti Creep Stick. She just needed to direct his attention elsewhere. She pointed up to the operation table behind her. “You’re too late, I’ve already opened up the package.”
K stared at the table. Phantom’s pale, dim glow reflected in his sunglasses. His dark skin was gray in the strange, eerie light. Perhaps he was even shocked by what Maddie had found.
Maddie swung the Anti creep stick in an ark, knocking the muzzle of the gun away from her. K jumped. Back on alert in an instant. The gun went off. It exploded like thunder in her eardrums. The floor tiles cracked only a foot away from her. Maddie sprang away, swinging the bat at any of them who dared come close. There was another bang , and Maddie’s leg shot out from under her.
Maddie fell hard. Her skull bounced on the floor and her vision of the lab tipped, sizzled, and spun with unearthly colors. Oh wait, that’s always what it looked like, ever since they’d shot a hole through the fabric of reality.
Maddie blinked, and K was standing above her. He pointed his huge gun at her chest. Maddie leveraged herself up on her elbows to glower down at the hole in her leg. It was seeping a deep, dull maroon. So different, so lifeless in the light of that other world. She looked back up at K.
He was as blank as ever, he didn’t seem to be exulting in his victory, but maybe this aggressive stance was his version of that. “Stand down, Dr. Fenton. We’re taking you into custody along with the ghost scum.”
Maddie gritted her teeth. She was shaking so much she could almost hear her bones rattling around in her body. She felt her heartbeat. Thud, thud , huge and inescapable, more like the steps of a pursuing movie monster rather than the pump that was keeping her alive. This was the thin veil that separated the dead from the living. It couldn’t even be defined as the ceasing of consciousness anymore now that there were ghosts flying through their midst. All thinking, and speaking, and seeking their goals. All twisted up into narcissistic obsessions. She stared at K. Her breath hiccuping between squeezed lungs and that pursuing thump, thump . Where was the line! Where did whisps become spirits, and spirits became joined to flesh, and bodies rotted from the inside out even as you walked through the supermarket buying sustenance for a family who had all started their own timer to their expiration date. From the very instant of birth. Life eating away at you like an acid. When you were clinically dead, how did a defibrillator reattach the soul to a stopped heart. Her eyes were drawn into pinpoints of rage. Her face was twisted with such anger it didn’t look human anymore, wrinkled with pain and sweat, she looked more like an animal pushed to the brink of sanity. Suddenly a tear squeezed out of her eye.
The tear was followed by more tears and she suddenly couldn’t stop. They dripped down her nose and chin, and she couldn’t get a grip. She covered her face, trying to push the tears back. She moaned. “No. No, he’s not a ghost. He can’t be a ghost.”
K tilted his head, his face scrunched up in disbelief. He hesitated a moment, dithering, then bounced the barrel of the gun off her stomach. His way of dealing with a sobbing woman. “This is beneath you, Dr. Fenton. You won’t get any sympathy from me.”
Maddie choked. She couldn’t stop crying. It felt like she’d taken her scalpel and ripped open her own chest. Faced with the alternative, she wished that’s what had happened. “It can’t be, he can’t be a ghost. Don’t you call him that,” she whispered through hoarse vocal cords.
K clearly thought she was going through a mental break. And maybe she was. The connections her brain had finally drawn were insane after all. Impossible. But the problem was, she couldn’t find a way to dismiss it. The smell of her lab suddenly filled her nostrils. She’d blocked it out she was so used to it, but now the sharp, off-sweet, citrine, and battery acid smell was inescapable.
“I think she’s lost it, Sir.” a younger voice said somewhere behind her, filled with ugly humor.
K’s mouth just twitched. His voice was even when he said, “Dr. Fenton, it’s clear this ghost has exerted some sort of control over you. The GIW will take you in and make sure you’re safe and uncompromised.” K’s eyes darted up and Maddie had no doubt the tranquilizers were on their way.
She sniffed, pressing her mouth together. There were still globs of salt water tracing their ways down her cheeks, but she somehow managed to stop and return K’s civil gaze for civil gaze. She nodded and lifted her hands, creep stick and all. She swallowed past the phlegm in her throat. “I’ll come.”
K nodded, business like. “You’re a very sick woman.”
“I’m a very sick woman,” Maddie answered demurely, lowering her eyelashes. She didn’t need to look to know that to her right, somewhere beyond Phantom’s operation table, was a bright switch surrounded by hazard tape built into the Ecto-containment tanks they’d built. It was another piece of Jack’s engineering. They all knew to stay far away from that big red button because a careless shoulder bump might release all the ghost’s they’d captured into the air. It was handy when she hooked it up to the ghost portal for releasing Amity’s haunters back into their natural habitat, but that was only when it was specifically programmed to do so, with numerous tubes and wires for the ghosts to travel through. Such a careless design flaw.
She sucked in a breath and let out a calm exhale. She twisted and brought her arm down to throw the bat as hard as she could.
Bang . Maddie fell back thrashing and curling into herself with the force of the bullet punched into her side. She never felt it. She felt like she’d turned to stone, all her bones calcifying, and her hag’s fingers carving into crystalizing claws. She stared up at K, her breath pummeling out of her. He let out a single burst of laughter like a cough.
“Where the hell were you aiming, Woman?"
The other agents around her were not so reserved, they burst into fits.
"Huh, didn’t even take advantage of the chance to knock his teeth in!"
"She missed! She really is some sort of crazy.”
K let them get their fun out, an empty grin chiseled onto his face. Finally, he had to holler to reign his men back in line. He was shouting because the rising roar in the air made it impossible to be heard otherwise. The otherworldly light spun giddily on the ceiling. Agent K spun toward the containment tanks, raising his gun. He spoke something into his earpiece but it was drowned out by the hissing warped sounds of ghosts escaping en masse . K’s men were screaming. There was the pounding of more gunfire, but they weren’t prepared to face this scale of ghostly activity. K stepped out of her field of vision, and Maddie soon saw the spectral tails of the ghosts pouring out overhead.
Two of them peeled off from the rest to hover over her. It was a large cat and a wispish girl, her hair spiraling behind her as though underwater. Their blank staring eyes sent chills down Maddie’s numb spine. Static filled her ears and she couldn’t hear a single word as the girl’s mouth moved indecipherably. She trembled, if they attacked her gamble would fail. The girl closed her mouth, apparently she’d said her piece and soared away, hair and dress gliding behind her like midair streams. The cat brushed its long, incandescent whiskers over her before leaping away in another direction. Maybe they knew she was helpless, maybe they recognized she was already close to their side of the veil. Or maybe they knew whatever they might do to her would be a comfort compared to the pain ripping through Maddie’s soul.
Groaning, Maddie turned herself over onto her elbows. She pushed herself along the floor till she could pull herself up with the counter. Her feet slipped under her and she had to rely almost entirely on her arm strength. When she’d finally gotten upright, she stood there, swaying for a moment. A few ghostly lights were still zipping and flashing overhead, but it was like they’d cleared a space around her and the operation table. She lurched forward, dragging herself along the counter. Somewhere behind her the GIW were still shouting, going crazy over the ghost. Any moment they might regain their senses and come for them again. She was going so slow she couldn’t handle it anymore, she launched herself off the counter and grabbed for the edge of the table. She went to her knees, but it was almost easy to pull herself up. She leaned over Phantom. Her breath rushing out of her and the edge of the table wedged into her stomach.
He was just as she’d left him. Disassembled and strewn in pieces. Condolences ectoplasm and drugs still pumping into him through thick tubes as though he was a balloon they needed to keep inflated. That heart was still thumping though. She waited for it with white knuckles on the rim of the table. A slow, sleepy, throb in time with the inflation of the lungs. Maddie reached over the canyon of his chest, blind to it. All she could see was that his eyes had finally closed and the oxygen mask that sold the lie of the fiendishness underneath. She ripped it off, opaque gas flooding out with a hiss. She wrenched the mechanism Jack had designed away, wishing she could just throw it to the floor. One of the foldable joints cracked.
Underneath was the pasty face, gleaming in the way only ghosts did. But it was so young, why hadn’t she allowed herself to accept the possibility that that was all that the face was. No mask at all. Just young. Phantom had never let them get so close. Of course not, they’d said, it was natural ghost spookishness (hah.) Her hands spasmed and with a cry she pressed her hands against Phantom’s face, pushing back the hair so she could stare at the sleeping boy underneath.
She studied each of his features to exacting precision, but it was no use, she could already see the truth.
“My baby,” she whispered. “My baby boy.”
The eyes opened back up into green, glowing crescents, spiraling with the same unearthly energy as the portal. She let go and the white, ghostly hair drifted back down over his face. She was looking at Phantom, but it was a thin mask indeed.
“Danny, I’m so sorry,” she said, sob catching in her throat.
T̴̡͗̑Ȋ̴̛͕̼͔̭̐̀̚M̴͖̜͌̽ͅÉ̴̞̖̔͂͌̌ ̴̰̯̈Ő̸͖̀Ù̶͖̻̀̐T̷̘̠̓͂̉͒́
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵👻
Maddie first became aware of movement passing before her vision. They resolved into shapes and color, but the ability to understand the messages her eyes were sending her brain stalled.
She felt a hand squeezing hers. It was weak but steady and stubborn. It was cold too, almost freezing.
All of a sudden she felt the bullet wounds again, red hot squeezing in her flesh. She would have staggered, only she couldn’t do that yet. What in the world was happening she wondered desperately.
Now she could hear. There was a ticking like someone had shoved an analog clock right up against her ear, and there was someone speaking. It was a dry, ancient voice. “—being unreasonable. Come, Daniel, must you continue this stubbornness.”
Danny’s voice was staticky like the distortion of a radio transmission from a long way away, and hoarse— but how could she have not realized it was his for so long? “Yeah right Clocky, After all, I am so well known for my reasonableness, good conduct, and ease of use.”
Finally, her brain translated the shapes and colors in front of her eyes. There was Phantom, still lying on the operation table, but now he was fully awake, staring furiously at the strange ghost standing on the other side of the bed. He was ancient, wearing purple robes clasped with a tarnished cogwheel. The skin of his face was so delicate with wrinkles it was transparent, seamed by an ugly jagged scar down his cheek. Eery red eyes gazed down on her son, completely unreadable. He held a strange medallion which he’d draped over what was left of Danny’s chest. Maddie quickly looked away.
How could this ghost talk to Danny so leisurely when he’d been injured so horribly? He needed help, not a lecture. Maddie struggled against the strange numbness that suffused her limbs. He needed a shot of ecto-dejecto first to stabilize his core, which was dangerously exposed, everything needed to be put back together including the missing pieces of ribs she’d taken. Panic rose up her throat like bile, at each desperate tally list she felt like she was going more and more insane. How could she ever fix this? She managed to slowly leverage her mouth open. She sucked in a long breath to yell at this strange ghost. The hand holding hers tightened its grip into a frenetic warning. She glanced down and saw her numb hand, frozen on the bed frame where she’d last left it. Danny had edged his hand to the side, to the furthest extent Jack’s bindings would let him, till he could clutch it over her white knuckles.  
All Maddie could do was look at him, mind spinning with questions. But she kept silent and didn’t try to move anymore.
Before her eyes, the old ghost (Clocky?) became young again. The wrinkles slithered off his face, smoothing away till there were only a few crow's feet surrounding the hollows of his unblinking eyes. His back straightened till he was towering over both of them. Not as tall as Jack, but she was struggling not to feel intimidated, especially with Danny laid out helpless between them. She wanted to wrench Danny away, hide him far away from this ghost.
He spoke. “So, it seems she figured things out in the end. A little too late I believe.”
“But… she regretted it didn’t she?” Clocky didn’t answer and Danny grinned wanly, his pale face almost skeletal. “So you lost. Not this or any other situation you can throw me into will make me agree to your dumb plan.
“You’ll forgive me, but I am not convinced,” was the dry answer. “You forget, I have the patience of ages.”
Danny went stiff. “You’re not going to stop, are you? The Observants are going to notice something’s up with you eventually. Sooner or later they’ll reign you in. They won’t let you take control so easily. But you can’t haunt me forever, of course you could, you're the ghost of time. Well, I won’t let you. I beat Pariah Dark, I’ll figure out some way to make you leave me alone.” Clocky was still silent, face completely blank against Danny’s rant. Danny, desperation evident on his face, said, “what about all that talk about using time responsibly? You can’t be planning what I think you are.”
Clocky tilted his head, studying Danny like a strange but particularly fascinating beetle. “I know you never conceived how far the extent of your parent's cruelty could reach. Their desecration of the dead has already surpassed the sins of their ancestors. With this newest act, I see no redemption, only the sorrow of starting to realize how foolish they’ve been. They’ve already been punished for their hubris.” he touched Danny lightly on the cheek. “And now they must finally begin to face it. Oh no, Daniel, the infinite realms could not be more in tune with my actions.”
“Well it doesn’t matter, I’m not going to be your puppet.”
He sighed. When he leaned forward his robe parted to reveal a window set into his chest, clockwork buzzing beneath. “I have tried to be lenient.”
“Manipulative,” Danny bit out with acid.
“But for time to advance as it should, I need you. It saddens me that I must use such painful methods.”
“No, it doesn’t.”
“More than you know, Daniel. I hope someday we shall be able to look back on this trial together and see its necessity. But first you must pass through it. I think soon you shall see your human ties are not worth nearly as much as you put by them. It caused the destruction of one timeline, I will not let it subsume this one.”
Danny shook his head, almost spitting with resentment.
“What parent would do this to their child?” Danny had no answer to that. Maddie felt bits of her heart crumble and she wanted to shrivel up and disappear. She wanted to close her ears and stop listening but she was still frozen, and she wasn’t even the one these words were aimed toward. “Because he cared for you, that boy was injured by his own kind. Samantha Manson and your sister never knew anything could be wrong until it was too late. Jasmine stood in this very room where your being was being unwound and documented, and asked where you could be. Such human weakness. You put your friends directly into danger and they completely failed to protect you when it counted. All while the two who made you were destroying you to your very soul.” He shook his head. “Come with me now, Daniel, and we can put these wearisome memories behind us. I can promise you, You will never feel pain again.”
“I— I can’t. I can’t leave them.” To her horror a wobbly tear gathered in her brave, brave boy’s eye. It overspilled the corner of his eye and traced a line into his ear. And then more lines fell like the tracks of a river on a map. His pale green eyes were completely obscured by a film of liquid. “They’re my family, I don’t want to leave them. Please, Mom.” His gaze flicked to hers and then quickly back to CW. “She didn’t know.” He composed himself, sucking wet air in as though each breath was as difficult as running a marathon. His eyes drifted down, their light dim. He looked exhausted. His voice was tiny. “Please don’t do this to me.” Maddie felt his grip on her hand weaken.
Clocky sighed and leaned so far over Danny it was like he was hunched again. He brushed white hair away from Danny’s forehead. Maddie wanted to grind her teeth. That was her job. A tiny voice in the back of her mind reminded her she might have forfeited it forever, but for now she could pretend she was still worthy to touch her son.
Clocky’s voice lowered into a soothing whisper. “You know you have the power to end this with a word. I’ll always be watching.”
She could feel Danny slipping away into unconsciousness in the returning creep of cold numbness. She felt like the world was growing gray and distant.
Clocky’s voice wasn’t just low, it was muffled as though through layers of felt. “Only call my name and I will be here. But I want you to remember what comes next.”
As Danny’s fingers slipped away from her own, and she fell away into the still nothingness he’d pulled her from. As gray wool like thunderclouds crept over her vision and dissolved into shapes and colors that she couldn’t comprehend, she saw the ghost tenderly lay the gear shaped medallion inside Danny’s chest cavity.
Nestled right alongside his core.
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