#but we’ve barely even gotten to speak let alone hang out and explore together

[scuffedcd]

Fuckin helllll

[myforeverforlife]

one and the same.

A oneshot as requested by an anon! Kyungsoo (superhero/villain au) and 56. "I don't do hugs."

Come send in a request here!

Pairing: Kyungsoo x Fem reader

Word count: 2,256

Masterlist

Kyungsoo hissed as you pressed him up against the wall, the rough concrete scratching at his skin through his super-suit. He glared down at you as you shoved your arm even further against his neck, holding him in place. Even Kyungsoo's superhuman strength was no match for you — not when you had the power to copy his ability. 

"What's wrong?" you asked coyly, your free hand playfully booping his nose. "Copycat got your tongue?"

"Let me go, Copycat," Kyungsoo grumbled. Even with his super strength, once you copied his ability, it was a pretty even match between the two of you. Although now, Kyungsoo had the disadvantage of being held up against the alley wall.

"And if I don't want to?" you replied with a giggle. "You need to loosen up every now and then, D.O. Come out for a night on the town with me, the usual." 

Kyungsoo swung out with his left leg, almost swiping your calf as you dodged out of the way. Instantly, you turned him around, pinning his hands behind his back. Kyungsoo yelped in surprise as his cheek hit the wall — he'd definitely feel that tomorrow too. You were standing right behind him, practically resting your chin on his shoulder. 

"You know, I don't do hugs. Especially not backhugs, like this. But for you, I'll make an exception. Admit it," you whispered into his ear, fingers tracing teasingly over his wrists. "You like playing tag with me. It's why you never catch me, as much you know you could." 

Kyungsoo's cheeks flared up, the pink color thankfully hidden under his mask. "You're being ridiculous."

"Oh? Someone's defensive. Where's your friend Kai tonight? Or Loey, the human flame? I'm surprised your friends aren't here to help you catch a little cat like me." 

Out of all the days to be missing, it had to be today. Kyungsoo was currently cursing his friends for staying at home and gaming on their computers. Some stupid expansion packs, or updates, or something. Kyungsoo didn't have time for games. Both in the virtual and Copycat sense. 

"They'll be here soon," he bluffed. 

You hummed aloud, the sound much too playful for his liking. There was Chanyeol levels of playfulness, and then there was you. The most infuriating, confusing person he had ever set eyes on. And yet, he found himself being drawn to you more and more. 

Even if you were a a thief, a villain. 

"Right," you drawled. "Well, as much as I'd like to stay here and play all night, I have things to do too." A sudden blast of music cut you off, startling both of you as the opening notes of CBX's "Cherish" started to play from the phone in your back pocket. 

"Shit," you swore under your breath. "Well, it was nice talking again, D.O. Maybe next time, you'll get me." You pressed a quick kiss to his mask-covered cheek before knocking him out, his body slumping to the floor. What a shame. Even with all of his righteous hero attitude, you had to admit that you had a soft spot for him. 

You reached into your pocket, pulling out the phone and holding it to your ear. "This better be good," you said as you left Kyungsoo behind. 

"Out flirting again?" the voice on the other end asked, sighing in exasperation. 

"I'm not flirting. Not with you, at least." 

"Y/N, just get the diamonds." 

"Yes, sir." You gave a small salute, even though you knew your co-conspirator couldn't see. 

"Make it quick. And get back safe." 

"Alright, Xing. See you later." 

Kyungsoo sat with an ice pack pressed to his head as he glared at his roommates. "I'm dropping the damn computers from the balcony. I wouldn't be hurt if it wasn't for you two. Stupid games."

Jongin and Chanyeol had the sense to look ashamed, the two lanky superheroes unable to look him in the eye. "Sorry, Soo," Jongin pouted. 

"Yeah, really sorry. We'll take patrol tonight," Chanyeol added. "Just focus on getting better." 

The other two superheroes stared at the side of Kyungsoo's head, wincing at the bump barely visible under his short hair. 

"Copycat scares me though," Jongin mumbled. "I mean, she literally copies our abilities and uses them against us." 

"That's why you're not supposed to let her touch you," Chanyeol added. 

Kyungsoo gulped as he remembered the way your hands felt on his own, the brush of your lips against his cheek. He shook his head, wincing at the sharp pain that quickly followed soon after.

Jongin and Chanyeol fussed over him, forcing him to lie down and draping blankets over him like he was sick with the flu. Despite all of their attempts to help, Kyungsoo didn't feel peaceful until they left him alone, closing his bedroom door behind them. 

Jongin was right — you were scary. But not for the obvious reasons. Kyungsoo was afraid of how much of a hold you had over him, the way you easily played with his heart. "It's because I haven't dated in a while," he reasoned to himself, although he knew that wasn't entirely it. 

You were captivating, a mystery that Kyungsoo wanted to find out more about. 

Even if it meant fraternizing with the enemy.

Kyungsoo grinned as Huchu, the freshly groomed dog that she was, licked at his chin while he cradled her in his arms. Much to his relief, she had gotten used to being dropped off and picked up at the pet groomers. The lobby was almost completely full, owners trying to bring their pets in as summer rounded the corner. Just as Kyungsoo was saying goodbye to the person at the counter, he heard the familiar notes of CBX's "Cherish" ringing through the air. 

He could’ve sworn that he’s heard it somewhere before...

Kyungsoo was so focused on trying to remember how he knew the song that he didn't realize he was holding up the line, bashfully moving out of the way. Once he turned around, his eyes wandered over to a person sitting alone in a corner of the room, pulling out their phone and answering the call. Kyungsoo felt his blood run cold as he listened to the person speaking. He'd recognize that voice anywhere. 

Before he knew it, his feet were taking him over to you. The hero waited, eyes blazing with determination until you noticed him. 

"I think we've met before," he said lowly, trying not to attract attention from the other patrons in the room. 

Kyungsoo knew right away that you recognized his voice, your eyes growing wide and mouth hanging open even while the person you were talking to tried to get your attention. 

"Sorry, I'll call you back later," you hastily got out, ending the call and swallowing down the nervous lump that had appeared in your throat. "Hi. Out of all the places to meet," you laughed nervously.

"You... are you waiting to pick up your pet?"

"Hm?" You glanced at the counter, as if just remembering where you were. "Oh, no. I'm just waiting here for a friend. He should be on his way to pick up his cats," you explained when Kyungsoo only stared at you in confusion. 

"Can we talk?"

"Uh, we are talking." 

"Not here." Kyungsoo nodded towards the rest of the room, at the innocent civilians almost within hearing distance. It wouldn't be good for either of you to have your true identities aired out in public.  

Your eyes flickered from the entrance and back to Kyungsoo, knee jiggling nervously as you sat. "Okay," you finally relented, standing up. 

Kyungsoo led the way to the park nearby, Huchu walking with a bounce to her little paws while you and Kyungsoo followed behind in an awkward, tension-filled silence. It was strange for him to realize that flirty, agile Copycat was the same as this shy, flustered person walking beside him. Both of you settled down on a bench, Kyungsoo removing Huchu’s leash so that she could explore the grassy area close by.

"Listen," you finally managed to say. "Please don't tell anyone about me." 

"Why would I tell anyone?" 

Your eyebrows jumped up in disbelief. "Because that's what heroes do. They turn in the criminals, and save the day... right?" 

Kyungsoo's mouth fell open as he fumbled over his words. "I... I don't even know your name." 

You weren't sure how to respond to that. Not like you had been expecting this, anyways. "Are you asking for it?" you asked cautiously. 

"No! Wait, I..." Kyungsoo groaned and put his head in his hands, his glasses in danger of sliding off of his nose. "I know that I should turn you in, but I don't want to, as crazy as that sounds."

He was met with even more silence, a chill running down his spine. Daring to take a peek, Kyungsoo turned to look at you. What he didn't expect was to see you grinning widely. 

"Awww, you really do care about me! And here, I thought this was all one-sided." You laughed brightly, eyes turning to half-moons. It was still Copycat's voice that Kyungsoo was hearing, but the smile that you wore was much more innocent than any he had seen on the villain's face. It was a strange experience, reconciling the two personas into one person. 

"It's not like that," Kyungsoo argued, despite the rapid fluttering of his heartbeat. 

"Then what is it like then?" You waited patiently, head cocked slightly to the side. 

Kyungsoo huffed in frustration — all directed at himself and the situation he was caught in. "What are you using the money for?" 

"Paying off college loans. Helping my friend with his studio," you replied meekly. "He's the one I was supposed to meet today."

"So you can plan your next heist together?"

You gave a timid nod, unable to look him in the eye as the guilt washed over you. "I'm really sorry, honestly. But it's not like Macy's will go out of business if I swipe a few diamond necklaces, right?" You let out a nervous laugh, eyes trained on Kyungsoo's face as you waited for him to respond. His expression was unreadable — it was even harder to tell what he was thinking than when he wore his mask! 

"Work with me," Kyungsoo said suddenly. "With me, Kai and Loey. Your friend can work with us too.

You could hardly believe your ears. "Are you serious? You trust me enough to work with you, your team? I'm nothing like you."

"You're gifted." 

"That's all you're recruiting me for?" A pout settled on your lips. 

Kyungsoo blushed. "I really don't want to turn you in..." he paused, realizing that he didn't know your name. Your lips quirked upwards in amusement, your name flowing like music as you spoke. It filled you with immense joy to hear him repeat it, to say your name, your real name. 

"What about you? Or should I just keep calling you 'D.O.' in public?" 

"I'm Do Kyungsoo." 

You stifled a giggle. "I'm guessing D.O. stands for Do?" 

Kyungsoo's face only grew warmer. "It's hard coming up with a good superhero name." 

Humming in sympathy, you reached out to pat his knee. Both of you ignored the sudden rush of electricity at your touch. 

"I mean it though," Kyungsoo continued. "If you keep doing things like this, someone will catch you eventually." 

You tapped your foot against the ground as you thought. "I like your idea. It's been lonely, especially when everyone sees you as a villain. But I'll have to talk with Xing, first. I think he'll agree, though. Ironically enough, he's a big Loey fan." You rolled your eyes with a smile. 

"Really?" Kyungsoo's round eyes grew larger, the sight brightening up your grin.

"Yeah. Just give me a day or two. Can I get your number?" Kyungsoo blinked owlishly, at a loss for words until you corrected yourself. "Just to get in contact with you. I mean, I figure it's easier than meeting up at the animal groomers."

Kyungsoo chuckled softly, the sound of it welcome to your eager ears. "Sure." He pulled out his own phone, both of you quickly exchanging numbers before you realized that you had left Yixing hanging. 

"I'll text you as soon as I know." You hesitated, not wanting to leave but also excited to share the news with Yixing. "And, um, I really am sorry for... you know, the other day." You pointed at your head, both of you remembering how you had knocked him out cold. Without even giving him a chance to respond, you ran off, jogging back towards the pet groomers.

Kyungsoo felt a corner of his lips quirking up into a crooked smile as he stared after you. If he thought he was unhealthily drawn to you before, that was nothing compared to now. He glanced down at his phone, laughing to himself when he saw what you had put in for your contact name. While he had chosen to put his entire name in your phone, you had simply put a cat emoji. Cheerful, down-to-earth Y/N and mischievous Copycat were one and the same.

And Kyungsoo couldn't wait to see you again.

A/N: me, says I’ll keep everything under 2k words. also me, makes this slightly over 2k 😂 I had a few ideas when I was working on this, and had to keep restarting because I couldn’t stick with one. but! I was really certain that I needed to include the first scene 😉 I didn’t realize how much I missed writing a superhero au? it’s been years since I finished jongdae’s spiderman fic. it was fun to think of oc and yixing pulling off very small-scale heists, with oc doing the actual stealing and yixing being the brains behind the operations lol. and of course to have soo/jongin/yeol as the clumsy, but lovable superheroes. 

[hqprotectionsquad]

𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 - 𝒚𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊 𝒉𝒊𝒕𝒐𝒌𝒂

⤷ 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒇𝒊𝒓𝒔𝒕 𝒕𝒊𝒎𝒆 𝒊𝒏 𝒇𝒊𝒗𝒆 𝒚𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒔, 𝒚𝒂𝒄𝒉𝒊 𝒊𝒔 𝒈𝒐𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒕𝒐 𝒔𝒆𝒆 𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓 𝒐𝒏 𝒎𝒐𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒓'𝒔 𝒅𝒂𝒚. 𝒊𝒔 𝒕𝒉𝒊𝒔 𝒂 𝒓𝒆𝒄𝒊𝒑𝒆 𝒇𝒐𝒓 𝒄𝒆𝒍𝒆𝒃𝒓𝒂𝒕𝒊𝒐𝒏 𝒐𝒓 𝒅𝒊𝒔𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓? ⤷ 𝒊𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒊𝒓𝒆𝒅 𝒃𝒚 𝒎𝒙𝒎𝒕𝒐𝒐𝒏'𝒔 𝒖𝒏𝒔𝒑𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒘𝒐𝒓𝒅𝒔 ⤷ 𝒔𝒐𝒏𝒈 𝒇𝒊𝒄 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕

word count: 3709

submission for @haikyuuwriters​‘s may event -  Mothers’ Day — write about Mothers’ Day. Meeting an s/o’s mother for the first time? Visiting a grave and paying respects? Fluffy moments for a couple with kids? Or is your pairing considering kids?

“Can you let me in, Hitoka?” Tsukishima’s voice is muffled through the wood and Yachi rushes to turn the handle and fling the door open. In comes a man who hauls in paper bags in his arms with his glasses on the brink of sliding off of his nose. Before she has a chance to think, Yachi pushes up his glasses and Tsukishima scrunches his nose at her action.

“What did you bring?” Yachi leans on Tsukishima to try to see what is in the brown bags he carries. It’s Thursday evening, which means after Tsukishima’s shift at the museum, he picks up groceries at the market and dinner for the two of them. “How much can I pay you for the dinner?” She asks as he begins filling the refrigerator with vegetables and fruits. Yachi stands on the outside of the fridge, where photos are suspended by magnets. One features the Karasuno boys’ volleyball team at Nationals, another has Yachi’s selfie with Tsukishima. There are also usually lists of items needed, and the papers are replenished every Monday and Thursday, when they take the list with them and buy groceries for the apartment.

“You don’t even know what I’ve bought for dinner.” Tsukishima side-eyes Yachi as he continues, “For all you know, I could’ve brought leftovers from the dumpster and you would still pay me beforehand.”

Yachi’s mouth gapes at his accusation, but she quickly composes herself. “You’re not wrong,” she says with a pout. Yachi fiddles with her phone while Tsukishima finishes unpacking the products from the bag. Now, the fridge looks happy to be full again.

Tsukishima sets the table pressed against the wall with plates and cutlery. It’s a small table, like the rest of their furniture. They both live humble lives, so why not live together? It’s not like they each take up a grand piece of space and the apartment they live in is snug enough to fit their belongings. He’s about to tell her that he bought curry and even splurged on two slices of strawberry shortcake when he passed by a bakery on his way home, but she’s already preoccupied with a call of some sorts.

“Hello?” Yachi speaks into the receiver softer than usual. She doesn’t want to attract attention, so she sinks into the edge of her bed, with her door slightly open, but she’s sure Tsukishima will end up seeing her anyhow.

“Hitoka, hi. It’s your mother. Are you free on Sunday?” Yachi barely mutters a word out before her mom continues with her steamrolling agenda. Yachi is one-hundred percent sure that her mother is calling her between clients, acting as if Yachi should be thankful that her mom reached out to her. “Great, let’s have lunch together. Sounds good?” 

“Yes, that’s fine.” As quick as her mother calls her, she is just as quick to leave. Yachi is used to this, or rather she should be used to it by now. She wasn’t the most doted on as a child. Then, Yachi grew older and only saw her mother in the mornings, dashing out the door with a piece of bread in her mouth. Sometimes, Yachi would stay up much past her bedtime, with her sheets balled up in her fists by her eyes, and the light in the kitchen would spread into her bedroom by the crack by the door. Yachi would hear her mother slurping on instant noodles at two in the morning and her mother would be up again four hours later, but all without a single word exchanged between the two. By the time she applied to universities, Yachi only told her mom her final choice instead of the eight schools where she competed for a spot in their marketing department. 

Isn’t it sad?

“Is everything alright?” Tsukishima enters her room with barely a warning. His footsteps are soft, but his presence is known when Yachi turns her head to see him.

With a breath in and out, she replies, “Not really, but I wish it was.” 

Tsukishima has gotten far since high school. Yachi believes that she might have had something to do with his attitude change, but she knows that college has also brought him out of his shell. When they first moved in together as roommates, Yachi needed to yank his feelings out of him whenever Tsukishima would brood in his room for a weekend-straight. Now, Tsukishima will approach Yachi at times.

“Let’s eat dinner. Maybe you can get your mind off it after eating.” After he crosses the room in two steps to get to Yachi, he nudges her to get out of her room and into the kitchen.

Tsukishima serves her, not asking a single question until she mumbles through her rice, “My mom asked me to come meet her on Sunday. Of all days, Mother’s day.”

“Huh.” He says in reply, not really knowing what else to say.

“She’s barely been a mother to me. I don’t know why she comes now that I’m out of university and have a stable job that she wants to meet me.” Yachi sets down her utensils to thread her fingers through her hair with a roll of her eyes. She’s grown a tougher skin in this city she’s lived in since the start of her adulthood. “I really don’t want to be alone with her.” She pauses for a moment, letting her mind reel. Yachi’s eyes open wide all of a sudden and Tsukishima is afraid that her eyeballs will pop out. “What if you came with me to my mother’s lunch, Kei? Are you doing anything on Sunday?”

“Well, considering my family lives three hours away, not exactly.” Tsukishima shrugs his shoulders. “Yeah, I’ll come with you.” While he has gone out with Yachi multiple times, he’s never been used as a plus-one and in this situation, he has no idea what he’ll be introduced as.

The week progresses much quicker than they both could have imagined.

“Are you sure this is okay, Kei? I don’t want you to come if you’ll be uncomfortable with me and my mom,” Yachi says, looking up at him. She’s wearing a black dress, tight on top but flares out at the knees. If she saw herself on the street, she would think she’s dressed up for a funeral. Tsukishima is indubitably brighter for once, but only in comparison, as he dons a polo shirt that matches the color of the clear sky.

“If it wasn’t okay, then I wouldn’t be standing next to you on the train,” he mutters as he holds her tight against his skin. It’s something he’s used to doing whenever they are on the same train together. He doesn’t remember when it started, but he does remember why. Something to do with creepy men and Tsukishima offhandedly offering he’d hold her, and Yachi praising him for a brilliant idea. Now, they’re like this. He doesn’t mind because he’s a placeholder, an intermittent person to step in before Yachi has a person to do that for her.

Well, at least that’s what he believed when they moved in together their first year of college to save money on rent, but they’ve never moved out to this day.

Their stop arrives and everyone from businessmen to children get off and move onto the just as crowded platform. Somehow, despite the busyness, everyone knows where to go and when to shift in this march of the morning. Each step in this district is made of surreal dreams that formed out of thin air. Maybe in middle school, Yachi would be so excited to see this happen one day, but now that this day has come, her stomach wrings into tight knots.

Tsukishima sees the look on her face, something he’s seen often, caused by miniscule and large things. Without exaggeration, he could say her face is showing off green tones. Suppressing the want to sigh, he scoops her hand into his and leads them towards the station’s exit.

“Have you been to this station before, Tsukishima?” Yachi rattles off as they walk out of the sliding doors and into the next city. She continues to say whatever’s on her mind or maybe these are words to say to distract her mind.

“Hitoka, you never said where you’re meeting your mom.” Tsukishima grits his teeth as he manages to weave between the sidewalk traffic, looking down to spare his eyes from ticked off passersby. They must think they’re foreigners by the looks of their hair. “We kind of need to know so we can get to the right place.” Tsukishima pulls Yachi to the side of a building, taking refuge by this wall. He lets out a breath he didn’t even know he was holding in after he glances at their still interlaced fingers. She doesn’t even bother to unlatch, that’s how nervous she is, Tsukishima thinks to himself.

“Right! Let me check my phone.” Yachi smiles up at Tsukishima and then her eyes drag down to where her bag bounces against her hip. “Huh?!” Her hand rips out of his loose grasp. Is she that mindless that she hadn’t realized Tsukishima’s hand was touching hers. With a crimson sweep across her face, she scans the short thread of text messages exchanged between her and her mother. “It seems like we should be heading three blocks in that direction,” Yachi says after a pause. She toys with the star charms that hang from her phone with one hand and with the other, she points in the direction of the station and onward.

“So we’ve walked three blocks, just to walk double that,” Tsukishima drawls.

“I’m sorry!” She doesn’t need to look at him to see the word disappointment written all over. “We’ll be alright, my mom’s not expecting us for another half hour,” she mumbles after feeling under the pressure of his gaze. 

“Let’s just get going.” Tsukishima motions for them to join the sea of people on their way back to the office after a lunch and tourists exploring the city at this random time of day. “Come on, hold my hand so you don’t get lost.” His intentions are self-indulgent, but he presents as a protective friend, which is all that matters.

Yachi reluctantly allows it and they assimilate with Tsukishima leading. She just sees his back as they move one-by-one in this mass of bodies and she’s never been more thankful for him than in this very moment. Soon enough, they stand in front of the restaurant her mother wanted to meet up at. Unfortunately, Yachi never mentioned that the restaurant they’ll be dining at puts Tsukishima at a risk of being kicked out.

“Is this going to be alright to go inside?” Tsukishima pulls at his short sleeved shirt, but before he can continue, Yachi’s already tugging at the metal beam to open the door. She looks ridiculously small, with her fingers just barely grazing each other around the grip. He reaches over her head and pulls on the handle as well. “Well, ladies first,” he says.

“Thank you!” Her voice switches into a more professional tone as she begins conversing with the hostess of the restaurant. Despite her size and her anxieties, she’s great at stepping up when she needs to. 

When she makes it back to Tsukishima, who is nestled in a chair in the corner, she tells him that the hostess will come get them when they have everything ready with the room. “My mom’s already there.” She sits on the armrest of his chair, her body fitting the edge of it precisely. She brushes the fabric of her skirt downward with a careful hand.

“You’ll be okay.” Tsukishima doesn’t know what to do or what to say. He’s never seen her this thrown off. Even during their high school years, seeing her deal with his teammates seems like a cake walk at this point. He’s never felt so weighted with the truth that isn’t even his own. 

“I haven’t seen my mom in person in nearly five years. We’ve called on the phone, but it feels so transactional. She only calls when she feels like I could benefit her in some way. I don’t even know how she is on a personal basis. I don't know how she’s doing at work, if she has someone in her life. I don't know how she lives. Shouldn't I know this?” Her shoulders shake ever so slightly, and then all at once, they move up and down, side to side.

“Hitoka, it's okay. You’ll be okay.” Before he knows any better, Tsukishima stands and he just does what his instincts tell him to do.

“What?” Yachi asks as she’s being pulled into his chest, and she doesn't have the heart to ask further questions. Her hair and ear presses against the stable curve of his body. His heart is quickening as his hands land on opposite shoulders.

“Yachi-san, party of two.” The hostess calls into the waiting area, and Tsukishima nearly jumps away, now standing three steps away from her. He is sure someone saw their melodramatic performance and rolled their eyes at it. If he were on the outside, he would too. But on the inside of this bubble, maybe he’s not thinking so much about what other people think. 

Yachi pays no mind to it and follows the hostess without sparing a glance to a scrambling Tsukishima, who rubs the lenses of his glasses on the hem of his shirt. First impressions start with being able to see her mother.

When they enter the private room that her mother has arranged for the lunch appointment, the first thing Yachi notices is her mother’s eyes, or rather, the lack of gaze. Her mother’s eyes are on her phone, clicking away on the device. They still contain the same beauty that Yachi admires, laced with lines around them. While her mother doesn't have the same youthfulness as she did when Yachi saw her last, she is the most beautiful.

Yachi doesn’t want to be rude, so she waits until her mother is done with her business and her eyes look to her daughter and this man right next to him. “Hitoka, it’s good to see you.” Her mother rises from her chair to meet her.

Her mother stretches her arms around her daughter and it is a foreign feeling for everyone in the room. Her mother hasn’t felt her baby in her arms in five years, Yachi hasn’t felt the comfort of motherly love, and for Tsukishima, he feels the palpable awkwardness between them. At last, Yachi pats her shoulders, in the best attempt to reciprocate this action.

When her mother releases, she gestures for the two of them to sit across from them.

The first questions that come out of Yachi’s mouth are “Are you on a lunch break? Do we have a set amount of time to be with each other?” and Tsukishima doesn’t know whether to feel appalled for her mother or be proud of Yachi for standing up for herself, in this strange manner. For sure, Tsukishima did not expect anything of the sort to happen if it were based on when they first met at Karasuno. Yachi surely has changed, but so has Tsukishima.

“No, nothing like that.”

“Happy mother’s day, I brought you something,” Yachi says. She reaches into her bag and she relinquishes a leather wallet that must have cost her a fortune, adorned in gold embellishments and pressed all over with a brand. 

“Thank you, this means a lot to me, Hitoka.” And she’ll put it into her closet, with the rest of the items she’s purchased or have received as gifts. This is the woman she has grown to know as her mother. “But I didn’t ask you to come here because I expected a present. I came here because I want to see you. It’s mother’s day, but I’m not a mother without you.”

“Of course she would say something like this,” Yachi mutters under her breath as she balls her hands into fists underneath the table, her dress fabric becoming one with her hands.

“This isn’t like you, Hitoka,” Tsukishima whispers into her ear. This isn’t like her. He feels like a wedge between them, a referee of some sorts. “I shouldn’t be here.” His teeth are gritted, finding new things within a half a conversation about this girl he’s known for years.

“You should stay, Tsukki,” Yachi replies, using his old nickname. Turning her head back to her mom, she takes a deep breath and lets everything out all at once. “You shouldn’t have called me, you know. We can live without each other.”

“Is it a crime,” the woman on the other end looks right into Hitoka’s eyes and she squirms under the sudden dissection. “Is it a crime,” she repeats. “to see the woman that made me a mother? I’m sorry I haven’t been there—”

“It can be when my mother doesn’t speak to me for a few years and then she suddenly wants to get in contact with me.” Yachi holds onto Tsukishima’s hand underneath the table, their fingers intertwining, but it is different than when Tsukishima led Yachi through the streets of this city. 

“But I want to get to know you now.” And there is an earnest look in her eye that causes Yachi’s insides to rub rotten. “I am telling you the truth, Hitoka. I love you, and you are my only daughter. You can ask me anything and I will not tell you a lie.”

Yachi’s lips press into a thin line and her eyebrows connect at the center of her face. Tears rush from her cheeks up to the bottom of her eyes, but she won’t let her body feel the resolution it seeks. “How can I trust you? How can I trust you, mom?” Yachi’s just letting all the words come out, not knowing whether or not her words hold the tone she’s really feeling. She tries her hardest to hold against the walls she’s built, but she can feel the crumbling from the inside.

“I don’t know what to say, Hitoka.” Madoka slides the hair tie out of the bundle and lets all of her hair fall. The strands curl at the ends without effort and they reach to the bottom of her shoulder blades. It’s as Yachi remembered, but not quite. “If you can’t trust me now, then I suppose that’s okay. But I want you to trust me eventually. I care about you, and I’m sorry. I’m sorry for not supporting you these last few years, but I want to make up for it.”

It’s hard to pick out what Yachi wants to hear when everything feels fabricated and made up on the spot. The muscles in her chest stretch out from the middle, or maybe it’s her lungs squeezing with too much effort. Either way, she must be on fire and her tears want to extinguish her flames.

Tsukishima feels like Hitoka’s blazes have expanded into the outside world because what he just saw go down between the two women in this room seemed like a fire truck combusting into spontaneous flames. “Hitoka,” he mutters. With his thumb, he wipes away a stray teardrop that hugs against the side of her cheek. “It’s okay.”

“I’m sorry.” Her words aren’t directed at a single person, but she still feels the need to apologize for how she’s feeling. “I’m sorry, mom.”

“I am the one that’s at fault. There’s nothing to be sorry about, Hitoka.” Her mother, the vision of poise, is blubbering her words softly, but it’s clear that she’s trying to keep everything together. She stands and is tentative with her steps. “Would it be okay if I hugged you right now?”

“Please.”

Tsukishima watches the pair make up and eventually, he notices the wistful smile he has on. He wishes he were with the rest of his family, crowded around a table to fight for food, even if it is just the three of them. This is his life now, though. He’s made up his mind on where he is living, but he doesn’t have to be set on how his family relationships lie.

Tsukishima’s hand has been long unoccupied as Hitoka speaks to her mother in hushed tones, Hitoka’s lips moving right by her ear and arms slung around her mother’s neck. He can’t hear them, but by the looks of their faces, it must be reviving conversation.

“Oh, right! Mom, this is Kei.” He can’t deny that there’s something inside that swells deep when Hitoka introduces him as Kei to her mother, but all there is to show on the outside is a polite smile.

Madoka straightens her back to look at him through slotted eyes. “I feel like I’ve seen him before, when you were in high school.”

“Right, he was on the volleyball team. Well, he’s still playing volleyball with the Sendai Frogs. He’s a great player and I try to make their games whenever I can,” Yachi beams with delight.

“Your family must be so proud, Kei.” Madoka takes a pause before continuing. “Are you two dating? Is this why you brought him today, Hitoka?” There is a teasing implication running along her tongue as she speaks.

At the same time, Yachi says “sort of” and Tsukishima says “no.” In an unironic and comical fashion, they both turn their heads at each other and stare.

“Oh,” Yachi’s mother mutters, holding a hand to her mouth. She only planned to be part of one reunion, but seeing another union blossom right before her eyes is priceless.

“I wanted to talk to you about that, Kei,” Yachi’s eyes can’t quite meet his when she says this. “Nobody else knows me like you do.”

“Right.” He glances back and forth between Yachi and her mother. This would be a weird way to confess that he’s been in love with her for the past four years, but he decides that any time would be better than this. “We should talk about this later, but I feel the same way about you.”

“Oh, great! Maybe I’ll have grandchildren one day!”

“Mom!”

tag-list: @clowninfortodoroki​

general hq tag list :D - @heccingdead​​ @dorkyama​​ @fireflywritingstories​​ @totallynotcryingmyeyesoutwhat

[bards-witcher]

But imagine an inexperienced Toonzy with a very very experienced Ohm. Now that’s a great dynamic.

So that was closer to the original idea for the fic but I kinda toned it down.

This is a continuation of that first fic that can be found here

Warning: Explicit

.

It had been almost four months since he’d started dating Ryan, and whilst he couldn’t be happier to have someone who he could care for and dare say begin to love, he couldn’t help but feel inferior compared to the other man.

Despite having kinda made out with the other man all that time ago in Jons’ closet, he hadn’t dared done so since, his feelings of inadequacy meant he didn’t dare do much more than peck the smaller man on the lips.

He’s grateful that Ryan is so understanding of his situation, insisting that they move forward at his pace, but still, he couldn’t help the thoughts that it was only a matter of time before Ryan realized he could find someone so much better than him.

He wanted to be intimate with him more than anything, he wanted lazy weekends making out on his couch only to be caught by his parents, to watch the other man blush and squirm underneath him just from his fingers, to press feverish kisses across his body, but his fear stopped him from doing any of it.

A fear which only heightened when Ryan had told him of his previous relationships and flings, something he felt he should at least be aware of given that they were now boyfriends, but the news did little to assure him.

Instead, hearing the other man’s experiences not only with sex but with relationships as well, had him do something he’d never thought he’d do in his life. He’d gone to a bar and gotten drunk before somehow making his way to Jons’ house, the other man far too delighted in his intoxicated state as he shoved past him to collapse on his couch

When he’d spoken about his woes, Jon simply told him to suck it up and go for it, nobody started out knowing exactly what they were doing, and if he truly loved Ryan, then he should be comfortable making that leap with him.

That’s how he found himself, running a hand through his hair as he took in his appearance in the mirror, waiting for Ryan to arrive at his house. His parents, which seemed to be a bit too understanding, had arranged to spend the night at a friend’s house, something he was all too thankful for as he took in a shaky breath.

He had no idea what to expect for the evening, all he knew was that he was ready to take the next step in his relationship with Ryan and was hoping the other man was as well.

He jumped a little when he heard the doorbell go off, taking one final look in the mirror before he ran downstairs and opened the door a little too fast to find Ryan staring up at him, a smile on his face.

As always when he saw Ryan, he was starstruck, taking a moment to question how someone so beautiful could ever be interested in him, let alone be as kind and understanding as he was.

A small cough from the other man quickly brought him out of his thoughts and he moved aside to let him in, pressing a chaste kiss on his lips before taking his coat to hang up, already wiping his palms on his jeans to try and get rid of the sweat beginning to form.

“You alright Luke? You seem a bit…off” He panicked a little given that he wasn’t doing as good a job as he thought he was at keeping calm, giving as best a smile as he could to the other man, all while he felt his heart thick in his throat, cringing at how hoarse he sounds when he finally speaks.

“ ‘m good, jus’ a bit nervous is all”

“Nervous? Why’re you nervous Luke? Is everything okay?” He jumped a little when he felt Ryans’ hand grab hold of his own, but he quickly gave him a smile as he wrapped his other hand over the top of Ryans’ before bringing it up to his face to press a gentle kiss on the back of his fingers.

He didn’t say anything as he moved them towards the couch, trying to seem as casual as possible, but even he knows his straight back and the way he can’t keep eye contact shows anything but.

As he sits there on the couch, Ryans’ hand still in his own, he gives himself another chance to look over him, seeing the slight quirk to his lips and the way his eyes seem to twinkle almost, only showing care and adoration for him, and it only reaffirmed his decision.

With a deep breath, he turned on the couch slightly to better face the smaller man before finally meeting his eyes.

“Ryan” He smiles a little when the other man nods his head at him in acknowledgment “We’ve been together for four months now, and it’s been some of the best four months of my life, to be honest, and you’ve changed me, for the better-”

“God, you’re not gonna propose to me are you?” He chuckled a little at Ryans’ remark, quickly nodding no as both of their laughter died down.

“I’ve been thinkin’, a lot”

“Something you don’t do very often” All he does is throw a glare at the other man, trying to keep back his smile as his giggles fill the air around them.

“Ryan, I’m tryin’ to be romantic here” The younger man just rolled his eyes before pretending to zip his lips shut.

“I’m sorry, go on”

“If you’re willin’ and ready, then I…I was wonderin’ if you wanted to take the next step of this relationship. With me. Tonight. I mean if you don’t wanna I comple-“ He cuts himself off when he feels warm hands cup his cheeks, Ryans’ face now impossibly close to his own as he feels the other mans’ thumbs caress his cheeks.

“If you’re sure, Luke” His smile softened as he raised a hand to grasp on one of Ryans’ wrists, his thumb now rubbing the back of the other man’s hand as he gave a slow nod.

“Never been more sure of anythin’” He felt his breath catch in his throat at the smile Ryan returned to him, feeling reassured he gently leaned forward, feeling a warmth spread in his chest when he saw Ryan move the rest of the way before their lips were pressed together.

He moved the hand on Ryans’ wrist to trail down his arm and then his side before gripping onto his hip, enjoying the small shiver that traveled through the other man, whilst his other hand tangled in Ryans’ hair, keeping their lips pressed together.

Only when his lungs were screaming for air did he pull away, taking a deep breath in before he was diving back down, this time being a bit bolder as he teased his tongue along Ryans’ bottom lip, letting out a sigh when he felt the other man’s mouth open up to him.

He easily let Ryan control the kiss, from the way that their tongues moved together to the angle at which their lips were pressed, gratefully taking whatever guidance he could in order to keep their lips together for as long as possible.

They hadn’t even done anything yet and it’s like his body was electric, every brush of Ryans’ fingers against his skin enough to set him on fire and every press of his lips enough to send a jolt through him.

He tentatively moved the hand on Ryans’ hip up under his shirt, the other man’s chest feeling hot under his touch as he explored, the slight hitch in Ryans’ breath was music to his ears.

He quickly looked up to catch Ryans’ eyes, almost as if asking for permission, and when he got a nod from the smaller man he was quick to pull the other man’s shirt over his head, chucking it to the side.

For a moment he sat there, admiring Ryans’ body in front of him, noting how his blush traveled all the way down to his chest and that he wanted to leave his marks on the pale skin in front of him.

He was brought out of his stupor when he heard Ryans’ giggle break up the sound of their heavy breathing, panicking for a moment that he did something wrong, but only seeing love reflected back at him.

“D’you wanna take a picture, it’ll last longer” He felt his face go red at the words, hating the fact that he was caught staring, however he couldn’t wallow too long in his self-pity before he felt hands on his face making him look back up at Ryan again “Hey, it’s okay Luke, you can take as long as you want, I’m sorry, it was kinda an ass thing to say”

“No, no, you’re good, it’s all good, I just…you’re beautiful, and I’m kinda just waitin’ for the other shoe to drop”

“Do you really think that, Luke?” He hates the way that Ryans’ gaze feels like it’s looking right through to soul, laid bare for the younger man to see, unable to do much else as he nods his head.

“A part of me is just waitin’ for the moment you get bored of me and go off to find someone else, I-“

“I would never do that to you, never. You’re kind and clever, and caring, and so fucking gorgeous and the sad thing is that you don’t even realise it” He looked up at Ryan then, almost as if trying to search out a lie but no matter how hard he tried to find one, it wasn’t there “If I’m honest, a part of me is worried that when you do realize that, and when you get a grip on the whole relationship thing, that you’ll realize how much better you can do and kick me to the curb”

Now it was his turn to look astounded, moving his hands to hold Ryans’ cheeks, forcing him to look in his eyes before one of his hands went to gently brush back his hair.

“You kiddin’ me? I’m the luckiest bastard alive to have someone like you, and sure, sometimes it scares me how much I love you, but I wouldn’t trade it for anythin’ in the world. You’re everythin’ to me, Ryan” He hoped the other man could see the conviction and love in his gaze, both of them staring at one another for a moment before Ryan finally softened in his hands, a small smile lifting his lips.

“You love me?”

“Shit, I- Yes, yes I love you, and I get if you’re not ready or if it freaks yo-“

“I love you too, Luke” He couldn’t keep back the bright grin on his face, his heart practically singing in his chest as he pulled the younger man towards him, eagerly pressing their lips together.

It became somewhat of a mess after that, Ryans’ hands deftly removing his shirt before pressing him back against the couch and connecting their lips together again.

He lets out a moan when he feels his jeans being undone, glad for some form of relief, which only lasts for a moment before he’s letting out a loud moan as Ryan sucked a large dark mark onto his neck.

“ ‘s this okay? ‘m not going too fast am I?”

“You’re fuckin’ amazin’, Ryan” He lets out a small chuckle at the blush he can see color the other man’s cheeks before he’s once again leaning up to kiss him, however, it’s not long before they’re pulling apart.

He then watches with bated breath as Ryan moved further down the couch, hands now hanging onto his waistband, a silent plea in his eyes at which he gives an eager nod, watching the other man’s face for a reaction as his jeans are pulled off.

In his head, all of his worst scenarios flood his mind, all of which consist of Ryan mocking him before leaving him then and there. What he didn’t expect though was how the other man looked somewhat longingly at his dick, licking his lips a little as he reached a hand forward to touch before thinking better of it and pulling it away as he then looked up at him.

“Fuck, you’re big” He couldn’t hold back his chuckle or the blush now painting his face red as he tried to look anywhere but at Ryan “Can I blow you? Please?”

“Su-sure, go ahead” He mentally berates himself for his voice cracking, but then he can’t bring himself to care as he feels warmth quickly envelop his dick, unable to stop himself thrusting up a little into the warmth of Ryans’ mouth, earning a small moan from the other man. “Fuckin’ shit, fuck, Ryan”

He tangled a hand into Ryans’ hair, holding his breath as he watched the other man slowly pull off of him before sinking down again, letting out a shuddering breath as he feels his dick being sucked into the wet warmth of Ryans’ mouth.

Ryans’ hands come and dig into his hips, keeping them pinned to the couch, as he takes him all the way down to the hilt, leaving him helpless but to watch as Ryan starts going down more fervently on him.

It’s not long before he’s a moaning mess, his back arched against the couch with his head thrown back in pleasure, letting out a series of moans, all a variation of Ryans’ name, as the other man continues to work at him.

By the time he feels his orgasm approaching it’s too late, letting out a strangled cry as he came into Ryans’ mouth, watching the other man swallow him down before pulling off of him and aiming a bright smile up at him.

However, his joy is quickly replaced by nervousness and fear, thoughts that he’d ruined the evening because he’d come so soon flooding his mind as he sat up on the couch, trying to turn away from Ryans’ burning stare.

“Shit I’m so sorry, Ryan, I didn’t mean- I should’ve- Fuck, I’ve completely ruined the night haven’t I? All I wanted-“

“Ruined the night? Luke, what’re you talking about? I wanted you to come, plus you’re not exactly old, you’ll get it back up again in no time”

“So, you’re not mad at me?” He felt somewhat hopeful as he turned to look at the other man, and when all he saw was a wide smile aimed back at him, all his doubt left him.

“Of course not” He felt Ryan wrap his arms around his shoulders, where he quickly grabbed onto them to keep them fixed around him, as he felt a kiss being pressed into his shoulder “Should we go up to your room now, kinda need something more comfortable than a couch for the next part”

“Yeah, ‘kay” He quickly pulled on the arms around him to bring Ryan just that bit closer to him so that he could press their lips together, soon getting lost in the kiss until his need for air made itself known.

He wasted no time as he pulled himself free from Ryans’ arms before turning to pick him up bridal style, chuckling at the shriek that came from the other man, earning him a slap on the chest which he couldn’t help but be endeared by.

By the time they make it up to his room, his legs are shaking and sweat has started forming on his brow, but the way Ryan clings onto him, stroking a hand through the small hairs at the back of his neck, it makes it all worth it.

He carefully places Ryan down on his bed, stepping away to let him move further up before he’s beckoned closer with a finger which he doesn’t have the heart to ignore, quickly climbing up the bed until he’s kneeling over the smaller man.

However, it’s apparently not good enough for Ryan, who quickly sits up to loop his arms around his neck, pressing their lips together before pulling them both down back onto the bed, leaving him trying to gingerly position himself so that he’s not completely crushing the smaller man.

Once again he allows Ryan to take control of the kiss, letting out little noises with every graze of teeth against his lips and the feeling of Ryans’ tongue exploring his mouth before pulling his own tongue to languidly tangle with his own.

He relished in the hands trailing across his chest and back, almost as if his nerve endings were coming alight as his breath hitched with each graze of Ryans’ fingers, tentatively reaching out his own to lightly trail down the other man’s torso, enjoying the moan he feels against his lips as Ryan shivers beneath him.

When his hand reached the waistband of Ryans’ jeans he looped a finger in one of the belt loops, tugging against it slightly as he leaned away from Ryan to look down at him, a plea in his eyes.

“You good, Luke?” He gave the other man a small smile before leaning down to press a brief kiss to his lips.

“Yeah, I want to, I want to see you, is that okay?”

“Yes, Luke, just lemme know if things become too much, promise?” He couldn’t stop the smile that split his face, finding himself even more in love with the man beneath him, who even now put him first and was looking out for him.

“I promise, Ry” He pressed a final kiss to his lips before kneeling away from the younger man, his hands falling down to the waistband of his jeans where he let his thumbs brush at the soft skin beneath him, giving into his temptation to press his lips against it, letting his teeth graze the skin and feeling his heart rate increase when he felt Ryans’ shudder below him.

“Please, Luke” He smiled at the plea, looking up briefly to see Ryan looking down at him with half-lidded eyes and a blush coloring his cheeks.

With a final brush of his thumbs, he began tugging at Ryans’ jeans and underwear, watching with bated breath as his clothes were lowered until finally, the other mans’ dick sprung free from its restraint, letting out a shaky breath as he finished removing the clothes and chucked them somewhere in his room.

He gave a final look at Ryan, who gave him a brief smile even as he looked eagerly down at him, before reaching a tentative hand forward to wrap around the other mans’ dick. He lets out the breath he was holding when it twitches in his hand, chuckling a little as he begins to pump it slowly.

It’s definitely something new to him, the feeling of the other man’s dick in his hand foreign to him, but any trepidation he felt quickly dissipated as he made sure to flick his wrist on his movement up, swiping his thumb over the slit a little and licking his lips slightly at the bead of precum that formed before swiping it away as he moved his hand back down.

He smiled at the way Ryan squirmed beneath him, watching his hands clench and unclench beside him, however, he frowned a little when he saw the other man biting his lower lip, keeping back the noises he so desperately craved to hear.

With his hand still pumping at the younger man’s dick, he leaned back over Ryan to press their lips together, his tongue gently swiping along his bottom lip before pulling at it a little bit with his teeth as he pulled away “Lemme hear you Ry, please?”

Ryans simply nodded at him, his eyes landing on the younger man’s lips before a hand in his hair pulled him lower and he found himself being lost in the other man once again.

He pulled away with a smile, briefly pressing their foreheads together whilst they caught their breath before he began kissing along the other man’s neck, continuing down his chest until he found himself back in front of Ryans’ dick.

With a final look and a smile up at Ryan, who was now leaning up on his elbows to look down at him, he leaned forward to tentatively swipe his tongue over the other man’s tip, moaning at the taste of the other man’s precum on his tongue before bringing the head of his dick into his mouth.

He sucked a little at it, his tongue flicking on the underside of the tip as his hand continued slowly pumping him, taking a final breath through his nose before moving further down the length.

He barely made it halfway before he was pulling off, taking another breath before he started sinking down again, continuing the movement as he got used to the feeling, gradually, sinking down lower and lower.

He was somewhat discouraged by the fact he wasn’t able to take all of Ryans’ dick in his mouth as the other man had done for him, all attempts resulting on him choking slightly and tears to form in his eyes.

A gentle hand on the side of his face stopping his current attempt at completely taking in the other man had him looking up at Ryan, who somehow looked fucked out and concerned all at once.

“You don’t need to take all of me, Luke, you’re doing so well baby” He moaned a little at the praise, feeling somewhat rejuvenated he resumed sucking down the length in his mouth, sticking to what he was comfortable with as he tried to hollow out his cheeks and suck a little at it.

The hand on his cheek moved to his hair, giving him small tugs here and there, so he allowed the other man to guide his movements a little, nothing that was beyond his comfort zone though.

He doesn’t know how long he kept moving, only knows that the small moans from Ryan are enough to put a blush high on his cheeks until he was abruptly pulled off.

He couldn’t help his somewhat confused expression at the action, but then he hears Ryans’ giggle and suddenly he’s being hauled up the bed where lips are being pressed against his and any other questioning thought leaves his mind.

“Why’d you pull me off? I wanna make you come-“ He was cut off as Ryan kissed him again, smiling into the kiss when he felt hands trailing down his back.

“And you will Luke, but I want to come with you inside me, if you want to that is, I don-“

A moan left his lips as he eagerly kissed the other man, this time taking the initiative to slip his tongue into the other man’s mouth, quickly entwining their tongues together until his lungs were screaming for air.

“Yeah, Ryan, fuck, I love you so fuckin’ much” Ryan simply moaned as he pulled him into another kiss, rolling them over slightly so that they were on their sides, the smaller man raising a leg to wrap his waist, wasting no time as he reached his arm around to pull the other man closer against him as they kissed.

He trailed his hand from Ryans’ back to tentatively palm his ass a little, feeling the other man’s moan against his lips before moving his hand to cup the back of Ryans’ thigh, and then they were moving again, this time so that he was on his back with Ryan straddled over his lap.

He whined a little when he felt a hand wrap around his dick, not having realized he’d gotten hard again, too focused on the man in front of him, before Ryans’ lips moved to begin kissing along his throat, helpless but to wrap a tight hand into his hair, keeping him pressed against him.

“I love you too, Luke, fuck, you’re so amazing” He pulled the other man even tighter against him at his words, never wanting to leave this moment with him. “You got anything? Like lube, condoms?”

He simply nodded his head as he ran a hand down his face in an effort to calm down his racing heartbeat somewhat.

“Uh, yeah, top drawer”

“Do I even wanna know?” He chuckled with Ryan, rubbing his hands across the other man’s thighs and hips, as he reached over to pull the items from his drawers.

“Well, told you I was ready, wanted everythin’ to go well for our first time” He couldn’t help but feel vulnerable at the stare Ryan threw at him, avoiding his gaze until he felt the other man settle back against his lap, only looking up when he felt a kiss being pressed to his forehead.

“Don’t worry baby, you’re doing so well, I’m actually kinda impressed”

“You think so?”

“100%, haven’t had someone look after me this well in long time” He couldn’t help but return the blinding smile Ryan gave him, moving a hand to cup the other man’s face, and then they were kissing again, carefully moving them again so that Ryan was laying back against the bed with him positioned between his legs. “You wanna get me ready, baby?”

He let out a hum as he pulled away from the hands and legs entangled around him, picking up the tube of lube which had been dropped on the bed before pouring some over his fingers, letting it warm up a little in his hand before casting his eyes towards the other man.

“Am I good, Ry?”

“Yes, please” He gave a small smile before carefully pushing one of his fingers into the smaller man, hoping that what little guidance he’d gotten from the porn he’d reluctantly watched under Jons’ instruction would serve him well.

When his finger went in to the knuckle, he paused for a moment to let Ryan get used to the feeling, already enjoying the way he seemed to fidget under his touch, and it was only when he felt the smaller man thrusting against his finger lightly that he gently pushed in a second.

The breathless gasp from Ryan was enough to set his nerve endings alight, pulling his fingers out a little before thrusting them back in, earning another huff of breath from the younger man, quickly falling into a rhythm, smiling when he felt Ryan pushing back against him.

“Move your fingers down a little bit” He did as he was told, watching the other man’s face for a reaction and watched it tighten up a little in pleasure “little bit more” He angled his fingers down a little bit, and when he thrust his fingers in, watched as Ryan let out a loud cry as his back arched, quickly repeating the motion to see that reaction over and over again.

“You’re so fuckin’ beautiful, Ryan” He enjoyed the flush on the other man that had since spread to his chest, watched as the man’s answering smile quickly turned to a moan as he began to press a third finger into him.

When his third finger was fully inside the other man he stopped his movement a little, only wiggling his fingers a little to try and open the other man up, however, he felt his fingers press even deeper into the other man when a hand dragged him back up the bed to connect their lips together.

As they kissed he began to thrust his fingers inside of him, slowly at first, but at the other man’s insistence he quickly picked up the pace until Ryan was begging under his touch.

“Luke, ‘m ready, can you fuck me, please” he moaned a little as he felt Ryans’ ass clench around his fingers as he pulled them out of the other man, pressing another kiss to his lips before leaning away to pick up the discarded condom.

In the next moment, he was rolling the condom on, putting a bit more lube over his fingers to rub over his dick before pressing his tip against the other man’s entrance, leaning down to kiss across Ryans’ neck before reaching up to his lips.

Whilst they kissed he felt Ryan roll his hips against him, causing the tip of his dick to breach the other man’s hole, causing him to let out a shuddering breath against the smaller man’s lips.

“C’mon, Luke, it’s okay, just take it slow for me” He only nodded as he rest his forehead against Ryans’, trying his best to relax through gritted teeth as he slowly began to press into the man below him.

He was most of the way in when he heard a small hiss of pain from Ryan, quickly stilling his movement and leaning up to look down at his face, raising a hand to brush his thumb comfortingly against his cheeks, waiting until Ryan relaxed below him again.

“Keep going, you’re just so big” He chuckled a little as he began pressing kisses across the other man’s face, carefully pushing the rest of the way in, both he and Ryan letting out a sigh once he was fully seated.

“You sure know what to say to make a guy happy, Ry”

“Shut up” He smiled down at Ryan, continuing to press small kisses on the other man’s face, trying his best to focus and not thrust into the tight heat clenching around his dick, already feeling his pleasure begin to coil in his lower stomach.

“How’re you doin’, Ryan?”

“ ‘m good, just give me another minute”

“Whatever you need baby, although I don’t think I’m gonna last long” The chuckle from Ryan sends ice through his veins, thoughts racing that he was being mocked for his lack of stamina and how quickly word would surely spread about his failings in the bedroom.

His distress must have been clear on his face given the hands now stroking his cheeks and hair lightly “What’s wrong, Luke?”

He looked up to see the other man staring at him with nothing but care and concern, far from the mocking look he’d been expecting.

“ ’m sorry that I’m not…better…at this, and that I can’t last as long as you want, but maybe if I take it slow-“ He fidgeted uncomfortably in Ryans’ hold on him but was cut off by another giggle from Ryan who then hugged him close against his chest.

“I don’t care about that, Luke, I was just laughing cause I don’t think I’ll last too long either, you feel too good inside me” He blushed not only at the praise, but also out of embarrassment for his overreaction, but it didn’t seem to faze Ryan who pulled him into a kiss as he thrust gently against his dick “You can move, baby, just slowly, yeah?”

“Of course, Ry” He began to pepper kisses on any skin in front of him as he slowly pulled out, using all of his willpower as he just as slowly thrust back in.

His body was taut as he slowly moved in and out of the other man, letting out shuddering breaths as he tried to keep in control, shivering at the feeling of nails digging into his back.

“You can go faster, Luke, please” He increased his thrusts a little bit, unsure how fast he should move lest he hurt the man below him and also in an effort to make himself last longer, but even as Ryan was begging below him to go faster, he still kept to a moderately slow pace.

He let out a shout of surprise when he found himself moving, Ryan apparently having had enough of his slow movements as the smaller man rolled them so that he was now straddled across his hips, his hands immediately moving to grip harshly at his hips.

He let out a moan as he felt himself press even deeper inside of Ryan, not even given a moment to adjust to the new angle before he felt hands coming to rest on his chest, and then Ryan was bouncing on his lap as fast as he was able.

The sight of Ryans’ face above him contort in pleasure, how he saw his tongue poke out between his swollen lips that made him look positively adorable, even as he was currently fucking himself as fast as he could on his dick, was enough to make him come right then and there.

He tried to restrain from moving as much as he could, but it wasn’t long before he gave in and began thrusting his hips up against Ryan, using his hold on the other man’s hips to force him down even harder as he began thrusting as fast as he able, the sound of Ryans’ cry of pleasure rejuvenating his efforts.

He saw a small tilt to Ryans’ lips as if in a smile as he continued fucking into him, but he then had the overwhelming desire to kiss him, to hold him close against him, so without another word he flipped them back over, quickly turning Ryans’ protest at the movement into a moan of pleasure.

As soon as he was on top he pressed their lips together all the while he continued fucking into the smaller man, however, they were both too far gone to do much else then brush their lips together as they let out their moans against the other’s mouth.

The feeling of Ryan wrapping his legs around his waist, the other man using the leverage to fuck himself back against him, making him press just that much deeper, that much faster, only made him feel his orgasm approach that much faster.

“Ryan, ‘m almost there”

“M-me too, keep going, please, keep-“ Ryans’ pleas were broken off by a loud shout as he arched his back, his mouth falling slack as he came across both of their chests.

The sight was enough to send him over the edge, reaching a hand to stroke at Ryans’ dick to allow him to ride out the end of his orgasm as the feeling of the other man’s ass convulsing around his dick had him coming with a strangled shout of Ryans’ name, leaning down to bite a mark onto his neck, hopefully the first of many.

Gradually, he slowed his movements as he rode out the rest of his high, only pulling out when the sensitivity became too much before he pulled the condom off, tying it up and chucking it towards his bin, allowing Ryan to chuck the tissue he’d used to clean himself up before leaning down to press a series of kisses on his lips.

He hummed as felt arms loop around his neck, keeping them pressed together before Ryan brought him into a longer, deeper kiss that completely took his breath away, unable to keep back his smile as he looked down at the other man.

“So, Luke, how was that for your first time?” He laughed as he leaned down to briefly kiss the other man, resting their foreheads as he brought a hand to cup gently at his cheek.

“Fuckin’ amazin’, good luck keepin’ me away from you now” He couldn’t keep back his smile as Ryan giggled against his lips, rolling his eyes whilst he turned them onto their sides.

“Oh no, don’t tell me I created a fuck boy”

“Don’ worry, the only boy I’ll be fuckin’ is you” Even as he joked he could feel his nerves get caught in his throat, eager to hear what the other man thought, even as he felt his heart clench painfully at the possible complaints. “So, um, what did you think? I mean I know it wasn’t perfect-“ As he spoke he traced his fingers across Ryans’ chest, not willing at the moment to look up at him, but he was cut off by lips pressing softly against his own.

“It was perfect, Luke. I probably shouldn’t stroke your ego like this but you’re the first guy to get me to come untouched the first time” He looked at Ryan, seeing nothing but sincerity in his eyes and he couldn’t keep back the bright smile on his face or the laugh that fell from his lips as he briefly kissed the smaller man before pulling him close against him.

“Just imagine what I could do with more practice” He laughed as Ryan giggled at the statement, feeling a gentle kiss on his neck that made a shiver travel down his spine.

“Gimme time to recover and you can practice all you want” He hummed his approval before moving them so that he was laying on his back with the smaller man sprawled across his chest, cupping a hand on Ryans’ cheek to bring the other man’s face up to look at him.

“I love you, Ryan” He brushed a hand through the other man’s hair, feeling warmth spread through his chest at the way his eyes closed at the soft touch “Thank you for bein’ so understandin’, I don’t know what I did to ever deserve you”

“Maybe you should look in a mirror and see what I see, I hate how you always put yourself down like that” He gave a soft smile at the other man as he felt Ryans’ fingers gently brush his hair away from his face before coming to rest on his cheeks “I love you, okay? And there’s nothing that’s gonna change that”

“I love you so fuckin’ much”

“Good, cause I love you too”

He let out a small moan as Ryan leaned up to kiss him again, although it was only a short kiss, he still found himself breathless when they parted, yet he couldn’t help but indulge himself as he leaned forward to kiss him again before they relaxed back against the bed.

He hummed as he felt Ryan bury his face against his neck, wrapping his arms around the other man to keep him pressed close as they gradually fell asleep, his heart feeling light in his chest in the knowledge that he had the man he’d come to love beside him, holding him just as close.

[leiascully]

Baseball Metaphors (8/?)

Part One  |  Part Two  |  Part Three |  Part Four |  Part Five |  Part 6 |  Part 7

PG-13, with a conversation that surprised me a little.  TW: discussion of infertility.

+ + + +

It takes Ethan and Jenny's painters a long time to finish up the trim, apparently, so long that Mulder begins to regret his proclamation that third base can't happen until after the fumes have faded.  But they all go to a movie together, which at least reduces the need to make conversation about how long it takes paint to dry.  He puts his arm around Scully's shoulders.  She slips her hand into his pocket and strokes his thigh through the fabric, her fingertips teasing his cock.

There was always a part of him that suspected Scully of being a treasure trove of pent-up sexuality, and he's a little irked that it took Ethan of all people to unlock it, even if Ethan (the whitest of white bread) isn't the one reaping the benefits.  He and Scully have had plenty of downtime in the midst of saving each other's lives for Mulder to have found the keys to her psyche on his own.  Hell, they spent a whole month alone together in quarantine after that Firewalker case mooning around in scrubs with a very limited underwear selection and never explored each other's volcanic underground, so to speak.  Meanwhile, one look at this polo-shirted jug of milk and Scully's ready to slip Mulder all the tongue he can handle.  Even a degree in psychology can't help him with this conundrum.  Are Scully's zealous caresses the product of misplaced lust for Ethan, or is she just really good at playing pretend?  Or have they arrived at an inevitable union by a roundabout route, as they usually do, and she's been just as interested as he has this whole time, and only needed the excuse?

The sentences in his mind get less and less coherent as Scully's fingertips continue to graze his cock at irregular intervals.  When the movie's over, he can't even remember the title, and he has to hold the popcorn bucket at crotch level.  Scully smirks.  

"It's so nice just to get out and do things," Jenny enthuses.  "I mean, it's like once you get pregnant, no one ever invites you anywhere.  It's like they think you're going to go into labor if you have any fun."  She laughs.  "You'll understand one day, Dana."

"I'm sure I will," Scully says smoothly.  Mulder puts one arm around her.  He's sure Ethan and Jenny didn't catch the momentary flicker of grief in her eyes, but he's so well-versed in Scully's microexpressions now that he's sure his own brows pinched together in sympathy.

She drove this time, but he isn't surprised when she parks outside his building and comes up with him.  She keeps to her side of the elevator, but she lounges against the wall as he's unlocking the door, and her arms slide around him as soon as they get inside.  He walks backward to the couch, hoping his basketball isn't in an inconvenient place on the floor, and pulls her down on top of him.  Her mouth is hot against his, but there's something desperate in her kisses.

"What's going on?" he murmurs as she kisses across his jaw.

"It's my turn to get to second base," she says against the underside of his chin.  She nips at his neck and he groans.  

"As much as I'm sure my pecs enthrall you, I don't think that's it," he says.  "Or you would have torn my shirt open in the office yesterday."

"How do you know I didn't want to?" she asks, propping herself up on one elbow.

"Scully," he says, and reaches out to still her.

"I'm fine," she says, half on top of him and half-wedged between his body and the back of the couch.

He says nothing, just looks at her until her eyes drop.  

"It just...hurts," she says slowly.  "Ever since my abduction, I've had this fear that I can't have children.  That whatever they did to me made me infertile.  It's something that's been difficult to confirm without invasive testing which I haven't had the time or the inclination to have done, but I don't think it's an irrational fear.  I can't remember what happened to me.  I have no proof.  It's just a feeling.  But every time Jenny says something about someday when I have children of my own...it hurts."

He pulls her back down against him and wraps his arms around her.  "I'm sorry," he mumbles into her hair.  "I wish I could help."

"Not in the obvious way, I assume," she says.  He can feel the heat of her breath through the fabric of his shirt.

"I don't know how much help that would be," he says, astonished that his brain can even form words when Scully's on top of him asking in her oblique way if he wants to have a baby with her.  "For a number of reasons, not least are the worries you shared with me the other week about the stresses of this job versus the pressures of starting a family."

She sighs, pushing herself up again.  "It was too much to ask of a work colleague anyway."

"That's not it," he says.  "I feel like it's my fault.  Your abduction.  Any difficulties that have followed."

"It wasn't your fault," she tells him.  "You couldn't have known that Duane Barry would fixate on me."

"It wasn't the most extreme possibility," he says.  "I'm sorry I wasn't there for you.  I'm sorry that a case you weren't even working has had such lasting consequences for you."

She lifts one shoulder in a shrug.  "I can't even verify my hunch," she says.  "That's the worst part.  Is it fear or intuition?  Do I trust my inner voice or my doctors?"

"I always trust your intuition," he says.  "Even when I've denied it before."

Her smile is wry.  "Good to know post facto."

"And if I can help in any way - in any way, Scully - just let me know."  His eyes search hers for proof that she hears and understands him.

"That particular activity isn't until the housewarming," she says.  "Now I understand your reticence."

"Exactly," he confirms, although it's true his mind is still reeling at the thought of fathering a child with Scully.  He would have expected many more negative thoughts.  Instead, in his mind's eye, he's seeing a nursery decorated in soft greens, a mobile of the planets hanging above a crib, Scully round and satisfied as she surveys the work he's done.

He's startled out of his reverie by Scully undoing the buttons of his shirt.  "Huh?" he says.

"I could use a distraction," she says.  "I think your pecs will suffice."

"My pecs appreciate your confidence in them," he says.  "Although I'm a little concerned that you're evaluating my potential as a mate solely on the basis of my pecs."

"Oh, Mulder," she sighs, "what makes you think I haven't been evaluating your potential since the day we met?"

"Touché," he says.  

"Besides," she adds, "your pecs are definitely in the pro column of any potential pros and cons list one might make before choosing to embark on even a sham relationship with you."

"Good to know," he says.  "I'll make sure to keep hitting the gym."

She nuzzles against his skin, the tip of her nose cool.  "I'll schedule a regular inspection."

She pulls open his shirt to reveal his chest and his abs, and her exploration of his torso is no less thorough than he'd expect of her.  Her lips brush across his skin until he's faintly pink all over.  She teases his nipples with the tip of her tongue and the bare edges of her teeth until he's groaning.  Her fingers drag back and forth across his skin as if she's creating a topographic map for her own personal reference.  He's definitely got some elevation at this point, straining against his trousers and her thigh.  He knows she can feel it by the way she shifts against him.  He groans when her hot mouth meets his skin, her teeth scraping as she sucks at his chest.  Scully's the type to leave a mark.  Somehow he didn't expect that.  Then again, bodies tell stories to her.  Maybe she wants to write one with his, a record of whatever it is they're doing together.

"You can conduct your own inspection," she says in a husky voice, surveying her work.  Mulder's sure he's got a livid mark, lipstick-dark against his throbbing skin.  He likes that she's possessive.  Somehow it makes him feel proud to be worth possessing.  His hands skim up under her silk shell and squeeze her breasts through her bra.  She moans, moving against him, and when it comes to bases, he's not sure she's not going to steal third, so to speak, moving past making out and fondling to frottage or more.  He tries hard not to press his hips up against hers, focusing on the feeling of her breasts in his hands, which helps and doesn't help.  She sits up suddenly and straddles his stomach, her skirt riding high up her thighs.  He can still reach her breasts, which is what he cares about at the moment.  She rakes her nails gently down his chest and he gasps.

"I had to sit up," she says in that voice that goes straight to his balls.  "Or we were going to go past second base."

"I get it," he says, and has to clear his throat.  "Shortstop would have gotten us."

"Have to save something for later," she says.  

"Scully, I'll be honest," he tells her, "I don't think we'll have any problems finding new things to do if this continues.  I think between us, we've got a hell of an imagination."

"And you've got a hell of a collection of inspiration, I'm sure," she says.  "But I am enjoying the anticipation."

"As am I," he assures her as he undoes her bra.  She groans as his bare skin touches hers.  

"God, your hands are warm," she says.

"It's frankly astonishing that I have any circulation at all," he admits, "given my current situation."

She raises an eyebrow.  "I'm sure you'll address it after I leave."

"Will you?" he asks boldly.  "Address your own situation, assuming you have one."

"I may take a bath," she says in a low voice.  "Said bath may or may not serve more than a hygienic purpose."

"So all those Friday nights you said you were going to stay in and take a bath," he goes on, flicking her nipples with his thumbs to make her gasp.  "Were you going home to touch yourself and think of me?"

"Some of them," she admits, looking down at him.  "How does that make you feel, Mulder?"

"Speechless," he whispers.

"Maybe I should go," she teases.  "Since it seems like your situation is fairly desperate."

"Fuck, Scully," he says.  "What am I supposed to do with this knowledge?"

"I'm sure you'll think of something," she says, and she bends down to kiss him.  Her tongue is in his mouth almost immediately and goddammit, he wanted to be inside her before, but the way she kisses takes that to the next level.  He's almost certain that one day her mouth is going to be around his cock and that knowledge is almost enough to send him over the edge at a moment when her lips aren't warm against his.  He can't help arching up under her, and a shock goes through his whole body when he feels the fabric of her panties slippery and wet against his skin.  They both moan.

"I should go," she says breathlessly, sitting up.  

"Yeah," he agrees as she drags her fingers down his chest one more time.  It isn't what he wants to say.  He doesn't think she really wants to leave.  But those are the parameters of this, whatever it is, and he'll hold to them.  She was already too precious to him to lose her again.  He definitely won't risk fucking up their relationship for sex, even though he suspects that if and when it happens, it will be mindblowing.  No one has ever mattered to him the way Scully does.  So yes, she should go.

"Thanks for helping me calm down," she says, climbing off him.  She reaches behind herself and rehooks her bra, resettling her breasts in the cups.  He can see the peaks of her nipples through her shirt.  "And thanks for listening."

"You can always talk to me," he says.  "I hope you know that."

"I do," she says, brushing her hair behind her ear and smoothing her skirt back down her thighs.  "But sometimes it's like we're too close to discuss things that matter this much."

"I know," he says.  He watches her put herself back together, running through her mental checklist to make sure she's fit to be seen outside the sanctum of his apartment.  She tidies the rumpling of his touch away, adjusts her clothes until no one would know that her skirt was rucked up to her hips and her tits were in his hands instead of lifted and separated by her bra.  As a final touch, she wipes her finger around her mouth to remove any lipstick that isn't already on his skin.  

"I'll see you Monday," she says.

He pushes himself up until he's half-sitting.  "Drive safe."

"I will," she says, and ducks down for one last lingering kiss.  The door closes softly behind her.  Mulder lingers on the couch for a long moment.  He doesn't know what the kiss means.  He doesn't know what any of their conversation tonight means for the long run of their relationship, whatever kind of relationship it is.  He does know that it won't matter how long he ruminates on it: nothing will be clear tonight except for the hickey Scully left on his chest.  He heaves himself off the couch and goes to take a long steamy shower, remembering the tug of Scully's lips against his, the insistence of her tongue, the slickness between her legs, the confident way she took control of him.  He strokes himself, imagining her touching herself and thinking of him, and comes so hard he sees stars.

The couch smells faintly of sex when he returns to it.  He rolls himself up in his blanket and tries to ignore it, because if he just thinks about Scully being wet for him all night, he won't sleep.  When he does drift off, he dreams that she's pregnant.  "Did we do this?" he asks, cupping his hands around her belly, but she just smiles.  He wakes up very suddenly and has a raging erection.  He grits his teeth and goes to find his bottle of lotion, determinedly not thinking of a pregnant Scully while he thrusts into his fist.  When he falls asleep again, he doesn't remember his dreams at all.

[jellzuwrites]

Abandoned Peter Parker x Reader

Part 1 

Summary: You and Peter were close, that is, until you got into high school. He seemed to drift away from you and left you in the dust until a kindhearted junior by the name of Liz Allen offered her friendship. Jump forward a year later and you still haven’t gotten over Peter?

Word Count: 1785

A/N: Here is part two and I know it’s a little, eh, but I hope you like it!

“You can ditch me-”

Those are the words that stuck with Peter for the rest of the school day as if you were there with him, just whispering it into his ear, or maybe it was screaming inside his mind as the words bounced of the walls.

He had felt more than guilty for what he had made Liz go through with her father and then him ditching her. God, it was an overwhelming amount of remorse and he couldn’t help it, but he had a job to do and… Well, that held a higher priority than anything else. It was all building inside of him and seeing Liz in such a state, it broke his heart. He was sure she was keeping it together the best she could and he could only imagine how she broke down alone in her room at night. It aches for him to even think about it. He really really liked her and cared for her, and though it was debatable, he was the cause for both sides of her undoing. But then you, you are what drove him over the edge. You looked at him in such a way that caused the crack in his heart to cut deeper.

He tried to remember how it happened, how e had ended up here, but he couldn’t. Heck, he had his times where he would wish he didn’t have these powers, he had those thoughts when he had his weak moments, but he knew that with such incredible powers, there’s a certain level of responsibility that comes in tow.

However, the more he dwelled upon what you said, he realized that he didn’t abandon you. At least, it didn’t make sense if he did. You weren’t there for the spider bite, in fact, you guys had stopped hanging out 6 months before at the start of the school year. You guys had been friends for what seemed like forever so what happened? He had no recollection of you two drifting apart. Just that one day he looked up and he didn’t see your beaming eyes looking at his eyes. He missed it all. He missed you. You were his closest friend along with Ned.

So, why?

He thought about that question more often then he’d like to admit and as often as you had asked it yourself. Why hadn’t you been with him, by is side like you always are with you smile and those glowing eyes that shined brighter every time you spoke to Peter, yes he took note of that.

Of course, Peter acknowledges that he had never went and confronted you about this situation as he just let you be. He let you leave. Was that why you guys weren’t friends anymore? Sure friendships end, but he had always thought you’d stay by him.

These thoughts consumed his being on the train back to Forest Hills. Peter pushed the brink of his mind to give him a shimmer of explanation of what had happened. He noticed that you had become friends with Liz fairly quickly. Far to fast for him to react, but that still didn’t happen until the end of September, which was like a month and a half into the school year. SO for those twenty something odd days, you guys had barely been around each other before Liz whisked you away.

Peter had always liked you, there was no doubt about it. The origin story was one you’d see often, friends since childhood with an inseperable bond, that's what May and Ben used to say at least. So why had the two gone separate ways?

Getting older shouldn’t have changed your friendship. It should have made it better because you two would get to explore the wonders of teen hood togethe- No now that sounds creepy and Peter grimaces at his choice of words followed by images in his brain thanks to his teenage hormones. That just got him thinking, maybe being teenages did change it all.

In school the next day, Betty and you had been together as usual, but with the fact that the bright eyed Liz Allen was no longer with the two of you. The conversation shared between the two of you had become stale as you two had to get used to Liz not being here. It was an adjustment period. It wasn’t like Lix was the one reason you and Betty were even friends or got along for that matter.

Peter had been glancing over in your general direction every few minutes or so and you couldn’t help but take notice as he wet his lips nervously, a quirk he had developed over the years that gave away his state if he stuttering never did. You knew why he was looking over at you, he wa thinking the same as you, he was planning on talking to you, but was too nervous to even look at you. You rolled your eyes as his constant fretfulness. Peter caught a glance of your annoyed expression and it caused him to freeze. Damn, the kid had already bothered you without even saying a word.

Peter is an incredibly great guy, but he can be a bit dense when it came to certain things, surprisingly.

It took his all day to work up the courage to make in advancement in talking to you. You had avoided him everytime he came near, whether it had been intentional or not, but he was going to do it. You were making your way through the crowded halls of the school as you had been stuck behind a group of kids who had just been strolling towards the exit. Peter on the other hand was able to dodge the careful bodies that were walking and rushing about as e finally got to you and reached a hand out to grab your wrist.

Almost instantaneously, your skin was burning from the contact like it knew who the hand it belonged to, and that gave you the sign of who did touch you as you slowly turned your slightly frozen body to face him. Your lips were pushed together in a straight line as you made eye contact. That’s when your heart began to race, betraying your thoughts. Those doe like brown eyes held a lot of questions and confusion that caused you to swallow thickly. You had told yourself that the fact your heart was racing was purely because you were anxious for this moment, the moment you’d look him in the eyes again. Truth be told, you had felt horrible for how harshly you talk to him the other day, you had to say it and it did release a bit of tension of your shoulders, but you still felt bad. That whole… fiasco had caused you to hurt him despite the fact that you didn’t mean to, and in turn, it hurt you back.

You dropped your gaze to his shoulder as you took in a deep breath all the while keeping your mouth shut. Thanks to Peter’s enhanced hearing, he heard your heartbeat and noticed it matched his, nerves getting the best of you both. He took the chance to look around, figuring the hallways weren’t the best place to have the conversation you were about to have as he tugged at your wrist. This action caused you to look up at him and he nodded his head towards the door before walking slowly so you could follow, which you did. He hadn’t let go of your wrist and you stared at his hand for awhile, the burning sensation never faltering. To distract yourself from it, you lifted your eyes so you could watch him in front of you as your steps instinctively felt into sync with his. Which only caused butterflies to swarm in your stomach as a heat was brought to your cheeks, oh how you wished this wasn’t happening.

“I’ll walk you home.” He spoke softly, not daring to look back at you as he kept holding your wrist with you following him out of the school mindlessly. By this point, it seemed unnecessary that he kept a hold on you and the heat on your face became hotter.

“Uh… Peter?” You called out to him as he looked back at you in question. You tugged your wrist to give him a sign of the situation and his face turned a light shade of red as he let go or you wrist. He shoved his hands into his pockets as he cleared his throat nervously.

You took the chance to catch up to him and walk side by side, but the atmosphere had turned into an awkward one. You both reached the platform for the train, glances being exchanged between the boy and yourself. No one made the move to speak to the other first which caused you to sigh. Peter glanced at you once more and once he caught your eyes, he looked away once more.

“Ok, stop doing that. Why did you want to walk me home?” You spoke out, wanting to get a simple answer from the boy. He dug the edge of his shoe into the pavement as he looked down at the motion as if it were the most interesting thing there was.

“It’s been awhile since we’ve talked… I-I just wanted to hang out with you.” He mumbled in response as his shoulders hunched over. You left the conversation like that, knowing that that wasn’t the only reason. You had wished to say more, to apologize and clear the air, but your nerves got the best of you. You kept your mouth shut while simply boarding the train once it arrived, Peter following behind as everyone packed together. You two stood close as the train began to move again. The tense atmosphere had eventually gotten the best of you as your mouth moved on its own.

“I’m sorry Peter, about yesterday that is,” You kept your gaze on the pole in front of you, “I was a bit harsh.”

Peter looked over at you and shook his head. “It’s fine. I-um-I kinda deserved it…” He answered, his voice grower softer as he spoke.

“You didn’t… Just… Why did you leave?” You asked, your words having a dual meaning to yourself as you spoke. “I can’t tell you that Y/n. But I can tell you it was important.” His voice grew confident as he looked at you, meeting your gaze. It didn’t satisfy you in the least, but it would do for now. This would be the start of repairing your friendship, your confusing and feeling filled relationship that you wished wasn’t like this.

[evanstandefensesquad-blog]

Paper Moon Part 15

MB - @thecountessakasha - back again. I hope you’re ready for Part 15! There’s no smut, it’s literally all fluff, so apologies in advance.

I’m going to tag a couple people who I’ve told about this and my really special love who keeps betaing this for me @evansscruff - thank you, darling.

A/N: Bucky and Steve end up at a venue that has a 40s night and meet an OFC, Melissa Rose, a singer in a local club. They both are smitten by her, and start to vie for her affections. They end up finding out more about themselves in the process.

This honestly started out as maybe a one shot but as I got going, I decided it’ll be chapters. How many? No frigging idea. This is my absolute first time writing a fic of any sort and yes I did base the OFC on myself. I hope y'all enjoy.

Word count: 3300+ because I am a wordy bitch.

Warnings: FLUFF to the Goddamn max. Gonna rot your teeth. Oh, and cussing. Like always.

STEVE’S POV

To say that the past few months were rough would be an understatement. Word got out about Bucky and me; and that, of course, led to word getting out about Melissa, Bucky, and me. It was strange; there was almost no animosity aimed at him and me, but just as she predicted, there was plenty aimed at her. People had taken to the Internet and the airwaves to voice their opinion of the “old” woman whom they decided was “ruining Steve and Bucky’s happiness” by “insinuating herself” between us.

Hate mail piled up at the club for her. She quit checking it altogether. Bucky would always gather the multitude of envelopes and go through them to sort out what was important and what was trash. Let me tell ya, her recycling bin has been packed full.

People would pop up at her shows to heckle and ridicule her. Finally, the owner raised the ticket prices and added extra bouncers which helped. Though on the plus side, more people came to actually see her perform. She wowed every single one of them. There were rumors of other places looking to steal her away, but she had vowed to never abandon Club Onyx. Or the owner. He’d been far too good to her and she appreciated it more than he would ever know.

The fact that she’s stuck with us is astonishing to me. And every day I fall deeper because of it. She’s so much stronger than she thinks. Not to say there haven’t been some rough patches. Her depression took over, and at times we couldn’t even get her to speak. There were days upon days when she just refused to get out of bed. Pretty sure she’s upped her rum intake. Even now she’s rarely, if ever, seen outside of the club without Bucky unless it’s to come to the tower. But for the most part we’ve really weathered the storm.

I think the biggest change has been with Bucky. He’s no longer chomping at the bit to take every mission he can get his hands on, trying to keep his mind on anything other than his life. He’s actually been turning down those offered to stay with Melissa during this tumultuous beginning.

For the first time since coming back from Wakanda, the light has truly returned to his eyes. And it’s her. Well, I mean it’s probably me, too. Us. But I really think it’s Melissa more than anything. She’s changed him. Made him more comfortable in his skin. Shown him that there’s more to “Bucky” than just “The Winter Soldier”.

He’s taken to staying at her place more and more. So have I, just not quite as often. It’s not like I get as many opportunities to turn down missions as he does. Part of the mantle of being Captain America, as Natasha is fond of reminding me.

I spend every moment I can with the both of them. Usually at her place. Not because we’re unwelcome at the tower. Far from it. Everyone would like it if we came around more often. They all really like Melissa. Especially Nat, Wanda, Clint, and Sam.

She finally got to meet Thor and was practically gushing about it. She couldn’t stop asking him questions about Asgard, what it’s really like there. She knew all the myths, of course. And how often do you get to meet a god? He in turn, is quite taken with her. Much to Bucky’s dismay.

It’s amazing the effect she has on people. She puts it off as the “southern thing”. Like she’s a novelty. As if that’s the only reason everyone here just adores her. That’s a piece of it, sure, but not all. She’s simply … captivating.

The night after Melissa first came to the tower, we had everyone out to the club to see her perform. Her nerves were on edge all day long.Because of that Bucky and I tried everything we could to keep her calm. She ended up going for a walk, alone, to clear her head. She puts so much pressure on herself.

A good bit of time had passed but Melissa still hadn’t made it back. I was starting to get really worried. Bucky suggested that I head back to the tower to make sure everyone was ready for the evening and that he’d go look for her.

He found her instantly, of course. She’d gone to a little park she discovered one of her first days in New York. It’s a place she and Bucky like to go when they need quiet and anonymity. They’ll put on hoodies and sunglasses and do their best to hide from the world and just sit in the middle of the park, right on the grass. Most times, they don’t even speak. They just exist there in that moment.

Bucky had gathered her up and walked her back to the apartment. The night went off without a hitch and the club received a boost of publicity due to our attendance.

I’ve noticed a change in myself as well. I’m sure Bucky and the others have seen it. I’m not as reckless. That’s the main thing. The idea of not coming back to the two people I love more than anything in this world is a very sobering thought indeed. The mere notion that I would irrevocably hurt them by not returning from a mission is too much to bare.

There are selfish reasons, too. To never be able to look into her dazzling green eyes again, or his shimmering blue ones cuts me to the core. That I wouldn’t be able to touch them, to see them smile, hear their laughter, or the noises they make in the heat of passion is like a stab in the gut.

My world revolves around them. Melissa and Bucky. My twin dark muses. Mes deux muses sombre, as she would say. They hold my heart in their hands. I am nothing without them and I strive every day to show them what they mean to me.

It’s to that end that I’ve decided to surprise them with some gifts. The first one is a simple thing; a sketchbook full of little drawings of the two of them doing mundane activities. Some are individual. Snippets of our everyday lives. Melissa lying in the middle of the living room floor, sheet music strewn around her, forgotten as she buries her nose in some book about Irish peat farmers. Bucky draped across the sofa, headphones on, feet kicking away to the beat of a “new to him” song that she’d turned him on to.

Some are of them together. Bucky is sitting crossed legged on the floor with his back against the overstuffed recliner while Melissa’s legs and arms are wrapped around him as she’s perched in the chair. His head tilted and resting against her thigh as they binge watch House of Cards, discussing what they’d like to do with Claire and Francis. The pair of them in the little kitchen, dancing and singing while they cook dinner for the three of us.

Once I snuck up on them in their little park and sketched them there, laying back on the grass, hoodies and sunglasses on. I watched their chests rise and fall with their breathing, wondering what they’d talked about, what they had been thinking about. Melissa was unaware of my presence, but I’m sure Bucky knew. You can’t fool the super soldier senses, after all.

The other gift is much, much bigger. It’s really a gift for the three of us. I’ve purchased an old brownstone in Brooklyn and am having it renovated into a single dwelling. This dual residence life is wearing on us. We need our own place, private, away from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan and the tower. Melissa needs to be able to detach herself from the club. She’s finally gotten the hang of the subway, so I feel confident she’ll be fine with the move. As for Bucky, he’ll be over the moon. He’s been wanting to move back home. And now I can give that to him.

Tony has decided to throw me a big birthday bash this weekend, so I’m going make the announcement then. Probably doesn’t make much sense for me to be giving gifts on my own birthday, but like I said, this is for all of us.

I can’t wait to see their faces.

BUCKY’S POV

I feel like the luckiest man alive. How I ever was good enough to deserve the pair of them, I’ll never understand. Steve, all the hell he went through to bring me back. He fought the world for me. Not many people can say that about their lover. I am his forever.

And Melissa. My beloved Angel. Her love has forged me into the man I am. The one I was meant to be. The longer I’m with her the harder I fall. She believes in me. I cannot explain what that means, how that affects every action I take.

I’ve been spending more and more time with her, staying at her place. I should really just move in with her. She’s suggested it several times and each time I brush it off; I feel like I’m imposing. But I feel far more comfortable at her apartment than I do at the tower. There I feel like a visitor. Not a true part of the team. At her place, it feels like home. Especially when Steve’s able to stay with us.

Melissa and I like to take care of Steve when he’s around. The missions wear him down so we do our best to help him relax when he’s home with us. It feels good to care for him again, like I used to when we were young.

One of my favorite parts about spending so much time with her is having someone to just be with. We go for walks, we do the shopping, we take in movies, we cook meals, we explore the city. She does try to keep herself incognito, because of everything. I dare someone to try something while I’m around. It’s mundane and domestic and I fucking love every second of it.

No missions, no emergencies. Because of her I feel like a normal person. I’ve even been more comfortable about showing my arm in public. Melissa’s not afraid of it and she always, always makes sure that’s the hand she holds.

She sees herself as undeserving of both Steve and me. Especially after all the shit we’ve been through recently; she feels like it’s all her fault. Oh, but she’s wrong. So very wrong. She deserves the goddamn world on a silver platter. And I aim to give it to her.

I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out a way to show her what she means to me. How she’s helped me, how deeply I’ve fallen for her.

Pieces of my life from before have been coming back periodically, and something I’ve discovered recently is that I can play piano. Not only can I play, I’m actually quite good. I’ve been sneaking downstairs to the club while it’s closed with handfuls of her sheet music to practice. Steve has caught me a few times. He must forget that he can’t sneak up on me. He’s never interrupted or bothered me, merely observes, more than likely sketching.

There’s a point to all this. I have quite the surprise for her. I want to play for her, with her. I can’t sing for shit, but I don’t need to. It’s her voice everyone wants. She’s the real star. I just want to be a part of it, to back her up, support her. And it calms me, I really enjoy it.

I’ve been working on one song in particular. I’m going to spring it on her at Steve’s party. By chance I heard her singing it in the shower one morning. She likes to practice there; the acoustics are phenomenal. The piece makes use of her smokey, lower vocals. Mmmm, her voice is like Tupelo honey. I am awestruck every time I’m blessed to hear it. The lyrics themselves, well let’s just say I can picture her saying these things to me and Steve.

I’ve got something for Steve too, of course. It’s hard to think of things to give him, the man who sacrificed everything he had, everything he was, to save me. But I know what makes him happy, what centers him. Anything art related. Anything.

So, with the help of Tony and Natalia, I was able to get a private tour of the Museum of Modern Art for Steve, Melissa, and myself. The card with all the arrangements will be hidden in a whole shitload of art supplies Melissa and I bought for his upcoming birthday.

And well, since we can’t resist, Steve and I have also conspired to give her a gift from the both of us. One we know she’ll appreciate more than anyone else probably ever would. We’re going to give her each one of our dog tags to wear. The originals. We … acquired them from the Smithsonian. Like they would refuse Captain America anything.

If it seems overly sentimental and nostalgic, well, tough shit. I think Steve and I have earned that right. Melissa will understand the significance. She’s a military brat coming from a long line of veterans stretching all the way back to the Revolutionary War. She gets it and I honestly don’t care if anyone else does. Just thinking of her wearing them makes me heart soar.

I love discovering little things about her. I love how she leads me to rediscover things about myself. I love watching her and Steve together, even if it’s just them doing something as simple as lounging together on the floor, books on history surrounding them as they pour over the words. Their heated discussions will go on for hours; I learn more from listening to them than I ever would reading on my own.

The way she looks at him when she doesn’t think anyone is watching her. Him doing the same. The way she’ll sit still, posing for hours on end for him while he draws or paints her. Most times it ends up with her teasing him mercilessly until he drops his tools and quiets her with passionate kisses.

And oh the way we all seamlessly flow into one another in the bedroom. Sometimes with heated, fiery, gnawing need. Sometimes with giggles and laughter until we can’t take it anymore. It has never felt so natural, so right.

I love these idiots more than I could ever express. I would be lost without them.

MELISSA’S POV

My boys, my beloved boys.

I can’t believe they’re mine. I can’t believe they’re still with me after six months of insanity. Six months of all the hate and worry and stress. I can’t believe Bucky has given up missions to stay by my side. I can’t believe Steve continually professes his love for me. I can’t believe they put up with all my baggage. My anxiety, my depression, my health issues.

Without even realizing it, I have fallen head over heels in love with them. Happiness, something that has always been elusive in my life, is now a constant. Which of course leads to the occasional panic attack, since my brain can’t wrap itself around the notion that I deserve this happiness and likes to construct various scenarios where I lose one or the both of them. Either on a mission or from them simply growing tired of me and leaving.

Nightmares haunt me every now and then, my fears manifesting themselves in my subconscious. I’ll thrash and sweat and full on cry until Bucky finally wakes me. He’ll hold me tightly to him as he waits for me to calm down, all the while whispering to me how he’s here, he’s real, he’s not going anywhere, how much he loves me.

One such incident happened when both Steve and Bucky were home. It must have been a particularly powerful one as it nearly sent Steve into a panic before Bucky explained what was happening and showed him how to deal with it. It took the both of them to bring me back around that night.

Bucky puts up with my shit every time we leave the apartment. Hiding myself under hoodies and sunglasses and baggy clothes. He understands. He was at that point himself not long ago. God, he takes such good care of me; he always makes sure I’m comfortable with it all, that I feel safe, loved.

And the way Steve dotes on me, I’ve never had someone so attentive to my each and every desire. Sometimes before I even know what they are. He has a knack for knowing exact what I need when I need it.

Things like that. Dealing with me on days where I couldn’t even function inside my depression. Nights when my anxiety was so high I would just drink myself into a stupor and couldn’t even perform.

And through it all they’re still committed to me. Because of that I’ve taken on my own mission. To keep them happy any way I can. To give in to every whim or wish they might ever have. If it’s in my capacity to do, then it’s done. Period. No questions asked.

These two, I know they have something up their sleeves. They may be super soldiers but they’re shit at keeping secrets. Something fishy’s going on. And Nat! Oh my god, she’s been teasing me to no end about something she knows that I don’t.

She and I have become quite close. Oh, she is fiercely protective of me, too. I adore her. And Wanda and Sam and Clint. They’ve been so, so great to me. The other members of the team have as well, but these guys. Well, let’s just say they’re by far my closest friends here in the city.

I’ve got news for my two big boys. They’re not the only ones who can be sneaky. I’ve got something up MY sleeve. With Steve’s birthday party coming up, I’ll make some time before we leave to give them their presents. I want it to be special, something just between the three of us.

Of course Bucky and I went overboard on our joint gift. We have a tendency to indulge Steve quite often. I’m not sure all the art supplies we bought are even going to fit into the area we’ve cleared out in the living room for his makeshift studio. Oh well. I’m sure he’ll deal just fine. I can’t wait till he sees what we’ve done.

As for my gifts to the pair of them, I hope they’re comfortable wearing jewelry. I didn’t get anything fancy, or gaudy. That’s just not our style. With that thought in mind, I’ve I found a pair of matching stainless steel cuffs. They’re small, like a little bracelet, but you attach them with screws. And I hold the screwdriver.

On the inside of Steve’s I’ve had engraved Mon Soleil. Bucky’s sports Ma Lune. My Sun and My Moon. My two very large, powerful, all consuming forces.

The light and the dark.

Watching them together is one of my major addictions. I love catching each of them looking at the other. It’s like they have a silent language. They’re always in sync. Whether it’s cleaning the apartment, binge watching a show, or when we’re in the bedroom. It’s like they have one mind.

They speak often of having claimed me. Getting me before anyone else could. Snatching me off the market. As if I was even on the damn market to begin with. It always makes me laugh and shake my head. But, if they’ve claimed me then I’ve done the same to them. They’re mine and I will defend that claim all the rest of my days.

I’m with them to the end of the line.

Tagging:

@alievans007 @buckysbackpackbuckle @justareader @anice-1 @hardcollectiontrashworld @always-an-evans-addict @mewsiex

Thanks everyone!

[theconservativebrief]

As fall TV enters October after a very busy September premiere week, you’d be mistaken for thinking it’s stopped to catch its breath.

But you’d be — well, not wrong, exactly. Things have gotten slower. But there’s still tons of stuff debuting, and we’ve been consuming all of it, the better to let you know what might best distract you from the chaos of life today.

This week, we’ve got two brand-new CBS sitcoms, both featuring lead actors of color, The Neighborhood and Happy Together (that’s unusual for a network that has had diversity problems in the past). Then there’s NBC’s new Amy Poehler-produced I Feel Bad, and Hulu’s brand new horror anthology Into the Dark, which will release one new episode per month, themed around a holiday that falls during that month. (Fittingly, the first three episodes are Halloween-, Thanksgiving-, and Christmas-themed.) And finally, the week comes to a rousing conclusion with a new HBO special from the inestimable comedy duo Flight of the Conchords.

Few of these shows are great, and as critics, we often have limited information on whether they’ll get better. (It’s rare to impossible for broadcast networks, especially, to send out many episodes for review beyond the first couple.) But there’s something in all of these shows worth checking out, especially if you’re a particular fan of their genres.

(A note: We’ve only given ratings to shows where we feel we’ve seen enough episodes to judge how successful they will be long-term. For right now that’s just the Conchords special, where we’ve, uh, seen the entire special and can assure you it’s good.)

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Based solely on the pilots of CBS’s new sitcoms The Neighborhood and Happy Together, many progressive young viewers might be more drawn to The Neighborhood. Its gentrification-driven premise — a white family from the Midwest moves into a historically black neighborhood in Los Angeles — holds promise for talking about social issues, while the crackerjack cast (led by Cedric the Entertainer and New Girl’s Max Greenfield) will presumably keep the laughs coming in between the weightier stuff.

Yet in the four episodes CBS made available to critics, The Neighborhood disappointingly doubles down on jokes about how crazy the differences between white and black people are, and even if the cast members are trying their hardest (and they are!), it’s all but impossible to improve upon jokes based on such a tired premise. And that’s before you get to some of the more questionable ideas contained therein.

That’s why Happy Together, which airs right after The Neighborhood, could prove so instructive. It, too, has a great cast, but its pilot is actively bad because the show’s premise barely provides enough fodder for a single half-hour episode, let alone an entire series: A married couple in their 30s (Damon Wayans, Jr. and Amber Stevens West) end up living with a major pop star (Felix Mallard), who employs the husband as his accountant. (It’s very loosely inspired by producer Ben Winston’s brief time with real pop star Harry Styles as his housemate.)

But once you get past the pilot and into the two additional episodes CBS made available for review, Happy Together shows a refreshing willingness to just leap past the awkward premise and do the thing it was born to do: Let funny people hang out together and give Wayans the chance to perform some brilliant slapstick gags.

Happy Together isn’t going to change your life, but its goofy, low-conflict stories about attractive people doing fun things together remind me just a bit of Wayans’s late, lamented sitcom Happy Endings. It’s not on Happy Endings’ level yet, but the idea that it could get there isn’t all that implausible. —Todd VanDerWerff

The Neighborhood airs Mondays at 8 pm Eastern on CBS, and Happy Together airs at 8:30 pm Eastern. The pilots of both shows are available on CBS’s website and CBS All Access, but you can really just skip straight to Happy Together episode two, which airs Monday, October 8.

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NBC’s new comedy I Feel Bad has plenty going for it — including Amy Poehler’s backing as executive producer, a multiracial family at its center, and Sarayu Blue’s (Blockers, No Tomorrow) long-overdue turn in a leading role — so it feels bad to root against it. But I Feel Bad, at least in its first three episodes, is … well, maybe not bad, but also not good just yet.

Broadly speaking, the single-camera comedy format sounds like a perfect fit for a show about an Indian-American mom trying to have it all. But it unfortunately flattens the show’s most interesting element — the fact that Blue’s character Emet is a first-generation immigrant who must negotiate cultural differences with her white husband (Paul Adelstein) and their mixed-race children, while maintaining her relationship with her mother and father (Madhur Jaffrey and Brian George). At the end of the day, I Feel Bad either needs sharper jokes, or to get a little more serious.

Additionally, the idea of career women “having it all” has been widely explored in film and TV, both before and after 30 Rock’s Liz Lemon memorably yelled, “I can have it all!” in the middle of an airport security line, in defiance of being forced to choose between love and a sandwich. And I Feel Bad doesn’t yet promise to revitalize the topic: The show’s writing is thin, as if it has only just discovered that particular conversation about female identity.

In part, this lack of focus isn’t surprising — Blue’s role was not originally written as Indian-American, so the show has clearly undergone some reworking since she was cast. But it either hasn’t been reworked enough, or it’s been subsequently sanitized in a way that seems to question what still is or isn’t considered “normal” on network TV in 2018. —Karen Han

I Feel Bad airs on Thursdays at 9:30 pm Eastern on NBC.

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The anthology format has long been making a comeback, with season-long stories like American Horror Story and more episodic offerings like Black Mirror becoming more common. And yet Hulu’s Into the Dark is singular in its plans to debut one episode every month, with each standalone installment of the Blumhouse-produced horror series revolving around a holiday that falls during the month in which it’s released.

October’s debut episode naturally takes place on Halloween. It’s a bit of a disappointment; despite a strong leading performance from Tom Bateman as a killer for hire, the story trips into unsurprising twists and boring tropes.

But that’s where the anthology format kicks in to the show’s advantage: If one episode falters, it has no bearing on what comes next.

Episode two, set on Thanksgiving, is a blast, in no small part thanks to a wild performance from Dermot Mulroney. And though it won’t air until November, it establishes Into the Dark as unlike its anthology peers in how disparate it feels from the first episode. The two installments feel more like individual movies that would be programmed together in a double feature — indeed, each clocks in at almost 90 minutes — than parts of the same TV show.

As a result, Into the Dark is difficult to recommend as a whole, because any given episode could be a hit or a miss, and the two episodes sent out for review suggest that even the type of horror will vary from episode to episode. But as things stand, the strength of the second episode — on top of how remarkable the series feels as a throwback to old-school anthology shows like The Twilight Zone — is enough to give the series a chance (or several). —KH

Into the Dark premieres October 5 on Hulu, with a new episode every month.

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The Biggest Band in New Zealand has returned, and they’re as small and unassuming as ever.

Thirteen years after Flight of the Conchords made their HBO debut on One-Night Stand, and nine years after their eponymous series wrapped, the aggressively modest musical-comedy duo returns to the network with Live in London, which splits the difference between comeback special and greatest-hits retrospective.

The Conchords haven’t been entirely absent from the comedy scene in the intervening years, though the band has gone relatively low-profile as Jemaine Clement and Bret McKenzie have found individual career success. But outside of some light bobbles and false starts in Live in London, the pair’s musical and comedic chemistry is as sharp as ever.

Over their 20-year history together, Clement and McKenzie have honed the personas of “Bret” and “Jemaine” to a fine point, and fall easily back into their roles as deadpan naifs, even as they play in front of a sold-out crowd at London’s Eventim Apollo. (The special was recorded this past July as part of a UK arena tour.) It’s apparent from the tiny smiles and stifled chuckles that punctuate their bone-dry banter that the pair is happy to return to the world of the Conchords, and feed off the energy of an appreciative audience.

As such, the Conchords devote a good chunk of Live in London to their most well-known songs, but also make room for new or lesser-known tunes that tend to sprawl and spiral in delightful ways. “Father & Son” and the hyper-meta “The Seagull” are slow builds with satirical premises that become more apparent — and more hilarious — as the songs go on. The “Devil Went Down To Georgia” riff “Ballad of Stana” and “Summer of 1353 (Woo a Lady),” meanwhile, are classic Conchords absurdity, right down to a climactic recorder breakdown in the latter.

That recorder breakdown doubles as a reminder that, for all their silliness, McKenzie and Clement have always been talented multi-instrumentalists with a keen ear for genre- and era-specific sounds. And that is at the heart of what makes Live in London such a pleasure: Watching the Conchords bound between sounds, instruments, and comedic reference points as easily and amiably as they ever did offers an uncomplicated, comforting sort of joy that feels even more special today than it did a decade ago. —Genevieve Koski

Flight of the Conchords: Live in London premieres on HBO at 9 pm Eastern on Saturday, October 6. It will be available on HBO’s streaming platforms beginning Sunday, October 7.

NBC’s Superstore (Thursday, 8 pm) returned Thursday, October 4, and if you’re not already watching this gem of a workplace sitcom, check out its intricately constructed season four premiere — which boasts a lovely twist at its end — to find out why you should be.

ABC’s Fresh Off the Boat (Friday, 8 pm) and Speechless (Friday, 8:30 pm) return to once again show that the network’s family comedy game is so strong it can slide two of its very best shows in that category off to Friday nights in an attempt to relaunch its TGIF brand. If you’ve never seen Crazy Rich Asians star Constance Wu play Jessica Huang on Fresh Off the Boat, the sitcom that brought her to fame, you owe it to yourself to check out one of the decade’s best comedic performances. And Speechless continues to tell fresh, funny stories about a family where one of the kids has cerebral palsy.

BBC America’s Doctor Who (Sunday, 1:45 pm Eastern/10:45 am Pacific) is celebrating the very first woman Doctor (Jodie Whittaker) and a new showrunner (Chris Chibnall) with a premiere that will air live on both sides of the Atlantic, so those pesky Brits aren’t several hours ahead of all of us here in the US. But don’t worry — if you’d rather wait to watch in primetime, it will be rebroadcast throughout the day, including at 6 pm, 8 pm, and 10 pm. (We’ve seen it and can’t say much beyond — it’s really good!)

Finally, AMC’s The Walking Dead (Sunday, 9 pm) is back for its ninth season, which is going to see some major cast turnover. (Don’t click that link if you don’t want to know!) Having to build toward some upcoming departures has given the series a slight sense of renewed purpose — though if you’ve already fallen off the Walking Dead wagon, that renewed purpose probably won’t be quite enough to get you back on.

Original Source -> 4 new TV shows to try, from Halloween horror to the Flight of the Conchords

via The Conservative Brief

[atomskgaming-blog-blog]

Pinky (short story from archives)

It's a miserable night. Ok, it's actually quite pleasant out tonight. I'm miserable this night. Inside I am all grumbling, muttered curses and evil glares. The soles of my feet crash down into the uneven pavement at a rate that some part of my brain, not currently in control of any physical faculties, registers will cause blisters on the morrow. 'I should have worn better shoes' I almost finish thinking before I snarl at myself, 'You should have said NO!" Outwardly, I sigh and have a look as if I think this is not the most pleasant night and I think it will all together be too long.

I arrive at a chipper, new building. Or, that is the impression I am led to be given. I am quite sure the building is at least older than myself, if for no other reason than that will overwhelmingly prove to be true statistically an overwhelming majority of the time. I also know for a fact that it is not new because I used to frequent the prior philanthropic venture that habitated within, but using previously gotten knowledge would be cheating. I often, for the purpose of just making puzzles for my mind, try to re-evaluate a forensic situation given a general or more reasonable average person's set of factual fore-knowledge, not my subjective memories. It's probably an obnoxious habit and you'll have to bare with me. In any case, I eye the shiny new makeover on this piece of architecture as does the savant fly eye the light in a porch zapper. Also, akin to the fly, I head inside regardless.

So far, within resides nothing out of the ordinary. I chat up the receptionist, he swipes my card, I craft a socially acceptable comedic statement to overcompensate for my neurotic anxiety, introverted nature and particularly foul mood on this particular night. You know, completely normal stuff. But then, I am escorted into the main room of this building, and it's pretty aberrant. It reminds me of old internet gaming cafes like I would frequent in my teens to early twenties, but mixed with those rooms in correctional facilities where prisoners are allowed to speak to loved ones through tiny cigarette sized holes in the glass. I loose a bitter chuckle into the air at the appropriate nature of the scene before me.

Some technician checks the order form and sits me down at my correct station. Then head gear, gloves, and other assorted sensory equipment is attached to my body at various points. I positively radiate discomfort, I expect at any moment my technician will break cover to run for the hills screaming. But, of course, he does not. He simply connects everything, looks at a few read outs on the user interface of the station and presses a button. An image flickers several times in front of me, and then suddenly she is there.

I feel an old wound in my chest tear open and start oozing its contents, the mental equivalent of a discharge of puss. The tech starts motioning in front her checking retinal responses and latency, and I begin fuming. How long had that taken to scab over so I could finally start healing? How much worse is that scar going to be now for having been reopened and starting over healing? This... this... this whole charade is a ridiculous waste of our time and more pointless, senseless pain. I almost want to cry already. And then, suddenly, we are alone.

She has a serene look on her face, the calm antithesis of my internal fury. I can't see them, but her hands are folded in her lap under the table. They’re actually under a different table in a different building, thousands of miles away, obviously. I start wondering, ‘They can't actually bother projecting what I can't see anyway, can they?’ I almost get up and walk around the table to see if there is a colossal waste occurring in the empty chair hidden across from me before I decide that I have to appear more stoic and less geeky right now. Then I remember all the accoutrement attached to me to make this foul dish, and that I would probably break something if I tried that. 'I guess I'll start...' she says. My eyes snap up, no longer lost in thought.

Some time later after all the pointless talk, after the catching up about pointless bullshit, after the empty apologies on both sides, after the lies about being hopeful for future events there is a long silence. She suddenly possesses a smirk and presses a button on the console. Parchment is produced on the table, and a paint set is revealed on the side. I guess I didn’t review that order form very closely, that she would select this gimmick straight from the brochure. What a cruel waste, I can already see it playing out in my head, but I am helpless to stop this from happening. If I intercede now, she will not understand why, no matter how much I explain, she’ll insist she wanted to try and then it would happen anyway, but it will be my fault then. So, I just watch.

Her hologram picks up the real brush in the room with me. I read enough from that brochure to know it has something to do with an electromagnetic field manipulating the matter she wants to interact with, determined by a computer hooked up to the sensors connected to her. Really cool stuff, but unfortunately, I understand when tech is in its alpha. She dips into the paint to begin, and I can barely keep from cringing. The brochure showed simple drawings done for parents traveling abroad. I don’t predict a computer to be able to levitate a brush with the stability of a human hand, especially not while compensating for latency issues, and what not. A thousand questions are running through my head about the logistics of the display before me, but they’re all on the back burner for that face in front of me. That face which, just seconds ago had its tongue stuck out in confident concentration, now transforming into bitter frustration as this event unravels in unexpected failure. I don’t even have close to the heart required to tell her the paintings that she sent me in the past no longer hang on walls. They didn’t burn either, but they’re not on walls.

There was nothing to say during the tears. Nothing to say while that electromagnetic field tore pastel and wood pulp asunder in kind. Nothing to say now, in the aftermath, we’ve done this so many times before. I’m not a robot with a heart of ice. I understand that she just wanted to finally touch me in some way in person, even if not with her own body. But, I’m so tired. I ran out of tears so long ago from these trials. “I’m going to go,” I sigh dejectedly. I place my hands on the table to push myself out of the chair. I see her lunge into the screen, the display distorts trying to show her on my side, and my arm is dragged through.

It isn’t like being grabbed and yanked, but if you’re ever had electrodes attached to your muscles to force them to contract or expand, you will understand somewhat of what it was like having that computer try to simulate being dragged around. The analytical part of me is growing concerned at what the limits are of the device. My sense of control over the situation has just had the rug yanked out from under it. However, holding the bulk of my attention are her eyes, glistening with wonder at the realization that she is holding me. “Sorry,” she mutters. My arm is fully through the holo-screen, and she lets my hand fall down to the far side of the table while holding it with both of hers. Our technician is banging on glass in the other room waving at us to stop, I vaguely recall there was some reason not to touch the glass and I realize she must have done the same to get me. “C-can you feel me?” she asks, and I turn back to look at her eyes, and I see the utmost desperation. I slowly shake my head.

I can see that the tears are about to start again. The image of her hands begin slowly sliding off of mine. I can see uniformed men rushing into the room from the edges, as if in slow motion. Watching her fingers slide across mine, I note for possibly the last time how small her hands are. How can someone get along with such small hands? How can she make such grand works with those delicate little things? And then, at the last second I do feel something and I just react. The tip of my last finger ensnares hers and I keep her from pulling away completely. Shock registers on her face and she’s looking into my eyes as we embrace as school children with some sort of dire promise to keep. I see misty, holographic men appear behind her and I feel strong arms pull at my shoulders as I say, “I feel… I feel…”

*bzzzzzt* *bzzzzzt* *bzzzzzt*

Based on a dream I had the night of 8/22/2014 about one <name redacted> This story ends with the real life alarm going off as I woke up. Please forgive this work’s crudeness, it is a product prior to what one could call a first draft. It was me frantically trying to get the entire thing on paper before it flew out of my head. I’m notoriously unable to remember dreams, normally, and I think the only reason this one stuck is due the pain I was in while experiencing it. This experience was also decidedly not dreamlike, since it had a continuous narrative that didn’t cease making sense. It’s on my list of ideas to explore and refine into something worth being read, but here’s the inciting piece for posterity’s sake.

[tsfrbss]

Paper Moon Part 15

MB - @thecountessakasha - back again. I hope you’re ready for Part 15! There’s no smut, it’s literally all fluff, so apologies in advance. And don’t worry, their saga will continue.

A/N: Bucky and Steve end up at a venue that has a 40s night and meet an OFC, Melissa Rose, a singer in a local club. They both are smitten by her, and start to vie for her affections. They end up finding out more about themselves in the process.

This honestly started out as maybe a one shot but as I got going, I decided it’ll be chapters. How many? No frigging idea. This is my absolute first time writing a fic of any sort and yes I did base the OFC on myself. I hope y'all enjoy.

Word count: 3300+ because I am a wordy bitch.

Warnings: FLUFF to the Goddamn max. Gonna rot your teeth. Oh, and cussing. Like always.

STEVE’S POV

To say that the past few months were rough would be an understatement. Word got out about Bucky and me; and that, of course, led to word getting out about Melissa, Bucky, and me. It was strange; there was almost no animosity aimed at him and me, but just as she predicted, there was plenty aimed at her. People had taken to the Internet and the airwaves to voice their opinion of the “old” woman whom they decided was “ruining Steve and Bucky’s happiness” by “insinuating herself” between us.

Hate mail piled up at the club for her. She quit checking it altogether. Bucky would always gather the multitude of envelopes and go through them to sort out what was important and what was trash. Let me tell ya, her recycling bin has been packed full.

People would pop up at her shows to heckle and ridicule her. Finally, the owner raised the ticket prices and added extra bouncers which helped. Though on the plus side, more people came to actually see her perform. She wowed every single one of them. There were rumors of other places looking to steal her away, but she had vowed to never abandon Club Onyx. Or the owner. He’d been far too good to her and she appreciated it more than he would ever know.

The fact that she’s stuck with us is astonishing to me. And every day I fall deeper because of it. She’s so much stronger than she thinks. Not to say there haven’t been some rough patches. Her depression took over, and at times we couldn’t even get her to speak. There were days upon days when she just refused to get out of bed. Pretty sure she’s upped her rum intake. Even now she’s rarely, if ever, seen outside of the club without Bucky unless it’s to come to the tower. But for the most part we’ve really weathered the storm.

I think the biggest change has been with Bucky. He’s no longer chomping at the bit to take every mission he can get his hands on, trying to keep his mind on anything other than his life. He’s actually been turning down those offered to stay with Melissa during this tumultuous beginning.

For the first time since coming back from Wakanda, the light has truly returned to his eyes. And it’s her. Well, I mean it’s probably me, too. Us. But I really think it’s Melissa more than anything. She’s changed him. Made him more comfortable in his skin. Shown him that there’s more to “Bucky” than just “The Winter Soldier”.

He’s taken to staying at her place more and more. So have I, just not quite as often. It’s not like I get as many opportunities to turn down missions as he does. Part of the mantle of being Captain America, as Natasha is fond of reminding me.

I spend every moment I can with the both of them. Usually at her place. Not because we’re unwelcome at the tower. Far from it. Everyone would like it if we came around more often. They all really like Melissa. Especially Nat, Wanda, Clint, and Sam.

She finally got to meet Thor and was practically gushing about it. She couldn’t stop asking him questions about Asgard, what it’s really like there. She knew all the myths, of course. And how often do you get to meet a god? He in turn, is quite taken with her. Much to Bucky’s dismay.

It’s amazing the effect she has on people. She puts it off as the “southern thing”. Like she’s a novelty. As if that’s the only reason everyone here just adores her. That’s a piece of it, sure, but not all. She’s simply … captivating.

The night after Melissa first came to the tower, we had everyone out to the club to see her perform. Her nerves were on edge all day long.Because of that Bucky and I tried everything we could to keep her calm. She ended up going for a walk, alone, to clear her head. She puts so much pressure on herself.

A good bit of time had passed but Melissa still hadn’t made it back. I was starting to get really worried. Bucky suggested that I head back to the tower to make sure everyone was ready for the evening and that he’d go look for her.

He found her instantly, of course. She’d gone to a little park she discovered one of her first days in New York. It’s a place she and Bucky like to go when they need quiet and anonymity. They’ll put on hoodies and sunglasses and do their best to hide from the world and just sit in the middle of the park, right on the grass. Most times, they don’t even speak. They just exist there in that moment.

Bucky had gathered her up and walked her back to the apartment. The night went off without a hitch and the club received a boost of publicity due to our attendance.

I’ve noticed a change in myself as well. I’m sure Bucky and the others have seen it. I’m not as reckless. That’s the main thing. The idea of not coming back to the two people I love more than anything in this world is a very sobering thought indeed. The mere notion that I would irrevocably hurt them by not returning from a mission is too much to bare.

There are selfish reasons, too. To never be able to look into her dazzling green eyes again, or his shimmering blue ones cuts me to the core. That I wouldn’t be able to touch them, to see them smile, hear their laughter, or the noises they make in the heat of passion is like a stab in the gut.

My world revolves around them. Melissa and Bucky. My twin dark muses. Mes deux muses sombre, as she would say. They hold my heart in their hands. I am nothing without them and I strive every day to show them what they mean to me.

It’s to that end that I’ve decided to surprise them with some gifts. The first one is a simple thing; a sketchbook full of little drawings of the two of them doing mundane activities. Some are individual. Snippets of our everyday lives. Melissa lying in the middle of the living room floor, sheet music strewn around her, forgotten as she buries her nose in some book about Irish peat farmers. Bucky draped across the sofa, headphones on, feet kicking away to the beat of a “new to him” song that she’d turned him on to.

Some are of them together. Bucky is sitting crossed legged on the floor with his back against the overstuffed recliner while Melissa’s legs and arms are wrapped around him as she’s perched in the chair. His head tilted and resting against her thigh as they binge watch House of Cards, discussing what they’d like to do with Claire and Francis. The pair of them in the little kitchen, dancing and singing while they cook dinner for the three of us.

Once I snuck up on them in their little park and sketched them there, laying back on the grass, hoodies and sunglasses on. I watched their chests rise and fall with their breathing, wondering what they’d talked about, what they had been thinking about. Melissa was unaware of my presence, but I’m sure Bucky knew. You can’t fool the super soldier senses, after all.

The other gift is much, much bigger. It’s really a gift for the three of us. I’ve purchased an old brownstone in Brooklyn and am having it renovated into a single dwelling. This dual residence life is wearing on us. We need our own place, private, away from the hustle and bustle of Manhattan and the tower. Melissa needs to be able to detach herself from the club. She’s finally gotten the hang of the subway, so I feel confident she’ll be fine with the move. As for Bucky, he’ll be over the moon. He’s been wanting to move back home. And now I can give that to him.

Tony has decided to throw me a big birthday bash this weekend, so I’m going make the announcement then. Probably doesn’t make much sense for me to be giving gifts on my own birthday, but like I said, this is for all of us.

I can’t wait to see their faces.

BUCKY’S POV

I feel like the luckiest man alive. How I ever was good enough to deserve the pair of them, I’ll never understand. Steve, all the hell he went through to bring me back. He fought the world for me. Not many people can say that about their lover. I am his forever.

And Melissa. My beloved Angel. Her love has forged me into the man I am. The one I was meant to be. The longer I’m with her the harder I fall. She believes in me. I cannot explain what that means, how that affects every action I take.

I’ve been spending more and more time with her, staying at her place. I should really just move in with her. She’s suggested it several times and each time I brush it off; I feel like I’m imposing. But I feel far more comfortable at her apartment than I do at the tower. There I feel like a visitor. Not a true part of the team. At her place, it feels like home. Especially when Steve’s able to stay with us.

Melissa and I like to take care of Steve when he’s around. The missions wear him down so we do our best to help him relax when he’s home with us. It feels good to care for him again, like I used to when we were young.

One of my favorite parts about spending so much time with her is having someone to just be with. We go for walks, we do the shopping, we take in movies, we cook meals, we explore the city. She does try to keep herself incognito, because of everything. I dare someone to try something while I’m around. It’s mundane and domestic and I fucking love every second of it.

No missions, no emergencies. Because of her I feel like a normal person. I’ve even been more comfortable about showing my arm in public. Melissa’s not afraid of it and she always, always makes sure that’s the hand she holds.

She sees herself as undeserving of both Steve and me. Especially after all the shit we’ve been through recently; she feels like it’s all her fault. Oh, but she’s wrong. So very wrong. She deserves the goddamn world on a silver platter. And I aim to give it to her.

I’ve been wracking my brain trying to figure out a way to show her what she means to me. How she’s helped me, how deeply I’ve fallen for her.

Pieces of my life from before have been coming back periodically, and something I’ve discovered recently is that I can play piano. Not only can I play, I’m actually quite good. I’ve been sneaking downstairs to the club while it’s closed with handfuls of her sheet music to practice. Steve has caught me a few times. He must forget that he can’t sneak up on me. He’s never interrupted or bothered me, merely observes, more than likely sketching.

There’s a point to all this. I have quite the surprise for her. I want to play for her, with her. I can’t sing for shit, but I don’t need to. It’s her voice everyone wants. She’s the real star. I just want to be a part of it, to back her up, support her. And it calms me, I really enjoy it.

I’ve been working on one song in particular. I’m going to spring it on her at Steve’s party. By chance I heard her singing it in the shower one morning. She likes to practice there; the acoustics are phenomenal. The piece makes use of her smokey, lower vocals. Mmmm, her voice is like Tupelo honey. I am awestruck every time I’m blessed to hear it. The lyrics themselves, well let’s just say I can picture her saying these things to me and Steve.

I’ve got something for Steve too, of course. It’s hard to think of things to give him, the man who sacrificed everything he had, everything he was, to save me. But I know what makes him happy, what centers him. Anything art related. Anything.

So, with the help of Tony and Natalia, I was able to get a private tour of the Museum of Modern Art for Steve, Melissa, and myself. The card with all the arrangements will be hidden in a whole shitload of art supplies Melissa and I bought for his upcoming birthday.

And well, since we can’t resist, Steve and I have also conspired to give her a gift from the both of us. One we know she’ll appreciate more than anyone else probably ever would. We’re going to give her each one of our dog tags to wear. The originals. We … acquired them from the Smithsonian. Like they would refuse Captain America anything.

If it seems overly sentimental and nostalgic, well, tough shit. I think Steve and I have earned that right. Melissa will understand the significance. She’s a military brat coming from a long line of veterans stretching all the way back to the Revolutionary War. She gets it and I honestly don’t care if anyone else does. Just thinking of her wearing them makes me heart soar.

I love discovering little things about her. I love how she leads me to rediscover things about myself. I love watching her and Steve together, even if it’s just them doing something as simple as lounging together on the floor, books on history surrounding them as they pour over the words. Their heated discussions will go on for hours; I learn more from listening to them than I ever would reading on my own.

The way she looks at him when she doesn’t think anyone is watching her. Him doing the same. The way she’ll sit still, posing for hours on end for him while he draws or paints her. Most times it ends up with her teasing him mercilessly until he drops his tools and quiets her with passionate kisses.

And oh the way we all seamlessly flow into one another in the bedroom. Sometimes with heated, fiery, gnawing need. Sometimes with giggles and laughter until we can’t take it anymore. It has never felt so natural, so right.

I love these idiots more than I could ever express. I would be lost without them.

MELISSA’S POV

My boys, my beloved boys.

I can’t believe they’re mine. I can’t believe they’re still with me after six months of insanity. Six months of all the hate and worry and stress. I can’t believe Bucky has given up missions to stay by my side. I can’t believe Steve continually professes his love for me. I can’t believe they put up with all my baggage. My anxiety, my depression, my health issues.

Without even realizing it, I have fallen head over heels in love with them. Happiness, something that has always been elusive in my life, is now a constant. Which of course leads to the occasional panic attack, since my brain can’t wrap itself around the notion that I deserve this happiness and likes to construct various scenarios where I lose one or the both of them. Either on a mission or from them simply growing tired of me and leaving.

Nightmares haunt me every now and then, my fears manifesting themselves in my subconscious. I’ll thrash and sweat and full on cry until Bucky finally wakes me. He’ll hold me tightly to him as he waits for me to calm down, all the while whispering to me how he’s here, he’s real, he’s not going anywhere, how much he loves me.

One such incident happened when both Steve and Bucky were home. It must have been a particularly powerful one as it nearly sent Steve into a panic before Bucky explained what was happening and showed him how to deal with it. It took the both of them to bring me back around that night.

Bucky puts up with my shit every time we leave the apartment. Hiding myself under hoodies and sunglasses and baggy clothes. He understands. He was at that point himself not long ago. God, he takes such good care of me; he always makes sure I’m comfortable with it all, that I feel safe, loved.

And the way Steve dotes on me, I’ve never had someone so attentive to my each and every desire. Sometimes before I even know what they are. He has a knack for knowing exact what I need when I need it.

Things like that. Dealing with me on days where I couldn’t even function inside my depression. Nights when my anxiety was so high I would just drink myself into a stupor and couldn’t even perform.

And through it all they’re still committed to me. Because of that I’ve taken on my own mission. To keep them happy any way I can. To give in to every whim or wish they might ever have. If it’s in my capacity to do, then it’s done. Period. No questions asked.

These two, I know they have something up their sleeves. They may be super soldiers but they’re shit at keeping secrets. Something fishy’s going on. And Nat! Oh my god, she’s been teasing me to no end about something she knows that I don’t.

She and I have become quite close. Oh, she is fiercely protective of me, too. I adore her. And Wanda and Sam and Clint. They’ve been so, so great to me. The other members of the team have as well, but these guys. Well, let’s just say they’re by far my closest friends here in the city.

I’ve got news for my two big boys. They’re not the only ones who can be sneaky. I’ve got something up MY sleeve. With Steve’s birthday party coming up, I’ll make some time before we leave to give them their presents. I want it to be special, something just between the three of us.

Of course Bucky and I went overboard on our joint gift. We have a tendency to indulge Steve quite often. I’m not sure all the art supplies we bought are even going to fit into the area we’ve cleared out in the living room for his makeshift studio. Oh well. I’m sure he’ll deal just fine. I can’t wait till he sees what we’ve done.

As for my gifts to the pair of them, I hope they’re comfortable wearing jewelry. I didn’t get anything fancy, or gaudy. That’s just not our style. With that thought in mind, I’ve I found a pair of matching stainless steel cuffs. They’re small, like a little bracelet, but you attach them with screws. And I hold the screwdriver.

On the inside of Steve’s I’ve had engraved Mon Soleil. Bucky’s sports Ma Lune. My Sun and My Moon. My two very large, powerful, all consuming forces.

The light and the dark.

Watching them together is one of my major addictions. I love catching each of them looking at the other. It’s like they have a silent language. They’re always in sync. Whether it’s cleaning the apartment, binge watching a show, or when we’re in the bedroom. It’s like they have one mind.

They speak often of having claimed me. Getting me before anyone else could. Snatching me off the market. As if I was even on the damn market to begin with. It always makes me laugh and shake my head. But, if they’ve claimed me then I’ve done the same to them. They’re mine and I will defend that claim all the rest of my days.

I’m with them to the end of the line.