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cozza-frenzy · 1 year

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Fanfic: Anything Not Saved

This job will chew you up and spit you out, if you’re not careful. OKAY, HERE GOES NOTHING. Hello Stanley Parable fandom! You might have seen me before, as I’ve been lurking around as The Phantom Pen (and one shy Anon) for the best part of a week now! Soooo I wasn’t planning on ‘taking off the mask’ so soon - I have absolutely terrible social anxiety, but what can I say? Y’all are a bunch of amazing, talented folks, and @chronicsheepdrawing‘s style - incorporating one of my all-time favorite aesthetics - has well and truly had my heart ever since I first laid eyes on it. As has their Drinky Bird Narrator - which brings us to this. I wrote a sort of horror-comedy thing, based on their Narrator, so I would recommend checking out their art so the whole story makes more sense. Things get existential, angsty, and more than a little bit weird when it comes to the format, but there’s a cute fluffy Stanley/Narrator ending if you’re willing to stick it out, which could be read as romantic or queerplatonic. I find this take on the Narrator all too relatable, as you’ll probably see. Poor guy. So here’s a list of everything I could think of making a content warning for. I might post this on AO3 later, but you guys get first dibs. I just hope tumblr doesn’t break my formatting somehow. CONTENT WARNINGS: Self-Hatred, Body Dysphoria (Not Gender Related), Body Horror, Rejection Sensitive Dysphoria, Existential Dread, Emotional Breakdown, Memory Loss, Panic Attack, Autistic Sensory Overload/Over-stimulation, Repeating Words Enjoy??

And, and then he said, hehe… and THEN he said - this job will chew you up and spit you out, if you’re not careful! You know, like a piece of chewing gum! I couldn’t believe it, I really couldn’t! Oh, we laughed so heartily! It really was the most wonderful sound, bouncing off the walls of the bathroom again and again like we were standing in, oh I don’t know, some kind of echo chamber? But the point is, you see - the point is, he finished cleaning his shoes in the sink, and he held open the door for me, and then we stepped through the door to go back to- Wait, where are you going? I didn’t get to finish my-oh! Oh of course, I… I am sorry, I just got… oh, well, back to the daily grind, am I right? You know, haha, grind! Like the coffee you’re holding! I mean of course the stuff here is just that instant stuff, it always is, but it’s hard to complain when- And you’re already walking away… oh well… Some other time, perhaps… —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- This is the story, of a man named ▇▇▇▇▇▇. ▇▇▇▇▇▇ worked in a big building, where he was employee number 436. Employee 436’s job was simple. He sat at a desk, designated number 436, and confirmed that the other employees were pushing the right buttons, for the right amount of time, in the right order. This is what Employee Number 436 did every day, of every month, of every year. And although others may have considered it soul-rending, he relished the brief moments of awkward small-talk he shared with his co-workers. Such as [ERROR: DATABASE ENTRY INVALID], who always [DATA CORRUPTED] whenever they [FILE NOT FOUND]. And Employee #427, who worked in a small office close to his. Who never said very much, but always seemed to want to listen to whatever he had to say. And ▇▇▇▇▇▇ was happy. And then one day, something very peculiar happened. And then one day, something very peculiar happened. something very peculiar happened. very peculiar happened. s̸o̴m̴e̸t̷h̸i̶n̶g̷ v̶̯̽e̷̲͈̺̰̒̽̎̃ŗ̴͓̩̩͜͠y̷̝̥̱̿̀ p̵̙͚̠̟̠̲̳͖̦͆̑̂̈̆̑ͅe̴̡̥͖̝͚͔̙̣͔͚͋͗̀̅̎͒͝c̸̨̛̻̬̪̯̺̺̈́̏̅͋̈́͛̌͜u̶̟͙̯̫̱͙͎̜͑̾̔͆̄͋͋͘͠͝l̵͉̫̮͖͖̰͖̦̮͍̎̃͑̀̽̅͛̚͠ì̸͙̦̯̜̱̳̪̟̈̂̔́̎̄̔͗̋á̵͎͉̖̘͔̺̙͕̬͚͓̟̳̰̅̽̽̆̂͛̽̕ŗ̷̢̻͎̗̙͇͇͕͙̺͎͑̿̅̈́͒͛͗́͗ͅ —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- I don’t know how else I’m supposed to convince you of this!, said ▇▇▇▇▇▇. I really do want to help you… to show you something beautiful. It’s out there, Stanley! It can all be ours! The breeze on our skin, the feeling of liberation, the immense possibility of the new path before us! Nothing to think, nothing to know… it could be so singularly, piercingly beautiful… Just please, ▇▇▇▇▇▇ begged, still cradling his immobilized companion in his arms. This is more important than you can ever know… just say something… anything! ▇▇▇▇▇▇ sank to his knees and wept. I NEED this… ! —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- And Employee 436 walked through the open doors. And Employee 436 was happy. And Employee 436 stayed in the darkness. And Employee 436 pushed a button. And Employee 436 looked at pictures of birds, forever and ever. And Employee 436 stayed at their desk. And Employee 436 picked up the phone. And Employee 436 collapsed on the sidewalk. And Employee 436 sobbed as the warheads detonated. And Employee 436 screamed into the endless void. And Employee 436 asked Why Is This Happening To Me. And Employee 436 asked Why Are You Doing This. And Employee 436 asked Who Am I. And Employee 436 died. And Employee 436 died again. And Employee 436 died again. And Employee 436 died again. And Employee 436 died again. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- EMPLOYEE DATABASE THE CURRENT TIME IS: ERROR, PLEASE RESET LOADING… EMPLOYEE DATABASE LOADED … PLEASE ENTER YOUR COMMAND /PRINT EMPLOYEE STATUS PRINTING… TOTAL EMPLOYEE IN DATABASE: [604] TOTAL EMPLOYEE IN OFFICE: [3] … PLEASE ENTER YOUR COMMAND /PRINT LIST EMPLOYEES_IN_OFFICE PRINTING… EMPLOYEE 427 - STATUS: ONLINE EMPLOYEE 436 - STATUS: OFFLINE EMPLOYEE [DATABASE ENTRY INVALID] - STATUS: [FILE INACCESSIBLE] … PLEASE ENTER YOUR COMMAND /ADMIN WELCOME, ADMIN /********* WARNING: ANYTHING NOT SAVED WILL BE LOST RESET WITH NEW PARAMETERS? Y/N /Y RESETTING… —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- The Narrator sat at his desk, grumbling to himself. He really hated moments like this; moments when, for whatever logic-forsaken reason was rattling around like a peanut in Stanley’s skull, he simply mucked about. Found literally anything else to do instead of making actual, meaningful choices as he was supposed to. The Narrator sighed heavily, taking a moment to shuffle his papers. It really was utterly maddening. Not just the lack of co-operation, the lack of respect for his story, his life’s work, but the silence that was left behind whenever Stanley had one of his “little moments”. The Narrator detested silence. It always led to him falling back on unwelcome habits. He sighed; perhaps Stanley would soon lose interest in whatever the hell he’d found so captivating. But for now, he supposed, he could lean back in his chair, perhaps put his feet up on his desk if he felt so inclined. After all - he thought to himself, smugly - it wasn’t as if anyone could see him. It wasn’t as if anyone could tell him no. There was just him, and his feet oh so defiantly up on the desk, and the gentle sloshing sound of the liquid inside his transparent belly, sloshing gently back and forth after the sudden movement. He paused, briefly gripped by a moment of brief, existential panic. Okay, that wasn’t “normal”, but what is “normal” for you really? Okay, breathe. Just breathe… in through your nose, and out through your… what, exactly? He didn’t have a mouth, so he couldn’t exactly… and what nose, for that matter!? The bloody thing on his face didn’t even have nostrils! Did that even qualify as a nose?? “Oh no… ” he groaned. It was happening again. He’d been silent too long, and now he was thinking. But he could handle this, he assured himself. All he had to do was clear his throat rather loudly and obnoxiously, and that would surely get Stanley’s attention… but that raised the question of what throat he was supposed to clear-NO! No, just- just think of something else! Anything else! The ticking of the clock on the wall! The gentle hum of the completely non-functional vending machine down the hall! The things that were so familiar! So comforting! That had been so…everyday, once… When there had been days. When there had been nights, and a bed to go home to, and a need to sleep in it... “No, no, no-!” He cried out in distress, his fingers desperately gripping his hair. He’d caught himself reminiscing, and now he was remembering! Remembering that he used to be human! His mind scrambled and flailed desperately, frantically, at strips of memories long since run through the shredder. If only he could piece them together! Just a little more! He just needed more time! He just needed something, anything to hold onto! If only he could, if only he could get a grip, then things would make sense again! Things would be alright again! They could still be... they could still be... But his hands - or were they gloves? - quivered and shook. They covered what could have just as easily been glasses or eyes, as tears streamed down plastic cheeks. Where one part of him ended and another began, he couldn’t tell, not any more. Logic and reason in this place had long since fallen sloppy dead. And he’d become this. This great hard plastic thing. He could feel it, now. The floodgates creaking open, threatening to unleash the frothing torrents of self-hatred he’d fought so hard to contain, as he pored over the shards of his own shattered memories. Had it been a slow process? Had he perhaps been forced to watch, reset after reset? Had his body gradually twisted, his humanity unraveling, the identity he’d built falling to pieces, as bits of him were corrupted and lost and stripped away in this loop, this cycle, this Merry-Go-Round gone mad? He’d gone from just another part of the office to a part of the office. The Narrator paused on that thought, taking a few heavy breaths to steady himself. How would something like that even happen? He chuckled mirthlessly; had the office simply gotten hungry one day, and gobbled him up in one gulp? Like some kind of ravenous beast from a fairytale? Preposterous! He thought to himself, finally feeling as if he’d gotten the upper hand in this existential argument. He refused to believe it! Part of the office, indeed... was he still not himself, in some way? Was he still not here, still telling his beloved stories? And then his mind spat out one last, horrible thought, right into his face. What else would drive something to devour what you used to be, and spit out what you’d become? Why else would it eat, if it wasn’t hungry? Because it was bored. The Narrator collapsed into his chair. He’d been defeated in one terrible emotional gut-punch; another steady slosh of liquid, back and forth, adding insult to injury. Reminding him of just how inhuman he was. Of just how utterly, cartoonishly ridiculous he looked. Of course that was it. He hadn’t been good enough. His story had never been good enough. He’d been obnoxious, and long-winded, and pretentious. If only he’d tried harder, if only he’d been better, then maybe whatever was keeping him here would have taken him more seriously. Maybe it would have let him taste freedom. Maybe it would have just ended him outright. Maybe it wouldn’t have punished him like this, giving him a form that was only fitting for his utterly laughable attempts at prose. Inside the flurry of destroyed memories, something stirred. This job will chew you up and spit you out, if you’re not careful! The Narrator wept. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Meanwhile, a man named Stanley had gotten himself into an unexpected spot of bother. Oh, it had started out innocently enough, mere minutes ago. Stanley had just stepped out of his office, and been walking through some of the space he’d shared with his missing co-workers when something had caught his eye. The number on the desk, 346? No, that meant little to him. There were a few vague and blurry things perhaps, snippets of conversation, and vague memories of laughing while standing by the water cooler… but that was another mystery he’d have to solve in due time. What had actually caught his eye was the computer monitor, apparently showing someone had recently accessed some kind of database. A database with an error that needed resetting. Being a helpful sort of chap, Stanley did what he’d always felt he was made to do, and pushed the button to reset the clock. Surely, his co-worker would appreciate him taking the initiative as soon as they got back. LOADING. Stanley puffed out his chest with pride. If the boss took notice of his boldness, his bravery, his seizing of the initiative - why, he might even get a promotion! Imagine that! Please enter the current time, said the screen. Stanley entered the current time. Is this correct?, said the screen - presenting him with a choice. YES or NO. Stanley, feeling quite confident by now, selected YES. Can you read this? Another YES or NO. A simple choice this time; Stanley selected YES. Can you hear me? Stanley hesitated for a moment; no, he couldn’t hear anyone. In fact, now that he thought about it, the Narrator had been oddly quiet for a while. He hadn’t commented on how much time he was wasting, or how he should be getting on with the story, which seemed a little strange. But maybe - if Stanley was very lucky - perhaps he’d say how proud of him he was, and how he deserved a lovely sticker for his hard work! Stanley gave a contented little sigh, daydreaming of the possibilities. Perhaps it would be a green one. He did rather like the color green. Help. Stanley snapped out of his trance quite abruptly, just as the word flashed up on the screen. That was strange, he didn’t remember selecting any ‘Help’ option... Help. And moreover, something was touching him. He looked down to the keyboard, where a pair of hands - as black as the empty void outside the map, and as soft as velvet - were very gently grasping his. They came out of the screen, reaching out of the darkness that surrounded the word; Help. Stanley wasn’t sure how, but that word seemed to be looking at him somehow. Staring him down. Begging. Pleading. Help. Another hand reached out, moving quickly to grip his shoulder. Then there was another hand, on another shoulder. Stanley was starting to get somewhat uncomfortable now. That made, what, four hands touching him now? No, five. Six. Eight!? Help. Another YES or NO flashed onto the screen just as sheer panic set in. Stanley pulled back, desperate to get away, but the computer came with him. The hands were clinging to him, pulling at him, their soft fingers crawling all over him with what felt like silent desperation as Stanley’s heart raced. He tried to do something, tried to select an option, to make a choice, but with the hands gripping his wrists he couldn’t select anything, he couldn’t even form signs… ! Then, Stanley heard a sound. “Oh, Stanley… what is to become of me… ?” Mustering his strength and facing his fears, inky fingers still pawing at his face, Stanley selected YES, and promptly dropped the entire computer terminal on his foot with a sickening crunch. The hands withdrew immediately. He wasn’t sure if he screamed out loud, but something certainly got The Narrator’s attention. “STANLEY??” Stanley was sitting on the floor now, rocking back and forth gently, wincing from the pain. He’d have to contact sysadmin about the error with the computer. Yes, that was it, just an error. The mysterious grasping hands error was far, far beyond his realm of expertise, as a mere button-pusher... someone else would take care of it... “Stanley, what on EARTH were you trying to do!?” Perhaps he’d also see the company nurse, if there was one - and surely if there was, they’d get back from wherever they went soon enough. Perhaps they’d even have sugar-free lollipops for very brave employees who weren’t frightened to death of whatever THAT was... and didn’t cry from the pain in their foot… or the growing ache in their chest… “Stanley… ?” Stanley buried his head in his arms. Something about all of that had left him uncharacteristically shaken, in a way most unbecoming for the intrepid hero of our story. And what was worse, was he couldn’t quite place why. He’d always had his buttons, a little office all of his own, he’d even known the incomparable joy of having his very own bucket. But now it felt like something was missing, or somehow very far away... “Oh, Stanley… ” The Narrator’s voice sounded softer than Stanley expected; usually he’d be quite annoyed whenever he got distracted and deviated from the story too much. “We’re both just a mess today, aren’t we?” Stanley looked towards the ceiling, sniffling a little, wiping his eyes on his shirt sleeve. <You too?> he signed. “As much as it pains me to admit this… yes, Stanley. Me too.” The Narrator sighed heavily. “Even someone like me can have bad days.” <I’m sorry.> Stanley signed, and paused for a moment before he signed again. He couldn’t be sure, but the sound he’d heard earlier had almost been like quiet sobbing. <Is everything okay?> “Is everything-?” The Narrator sounded quite taken aback; “Stanley, what about you? What about your foot? Are you broken? Do I need to reset? Come on, man! Speak up!” Stanley signed, flexing his foot experimentally. It was a little sore, but nothing felt out of place. <It feels like something else is wrong, though. Did you go somewhere?> “Not… exactly.” The Narrator said; there was something off about his voice again, Stanley thought. He didn’t usually hesitate this much, not even when the story spun off in some wild direction that left both of them utterly confused. “Why, did something happen?” Stanley thought for a moment, thinking through which signs he should use to describe what he’d just seen… only to find he couldn’t. Something about what just happened simply defied description. He tried to get the sudden influx of nervous energy out of himself by flapping his hands, getting up and pacing back and forth, but found himself signing the same words over and over as he tried to think of what to say. “Stanley?” Stanley ran his fingers through his hair a few times, his cheeks flushing and tears gathering in the corners of his eyes as his frustration grew and grew. Why couldn’t he just sign things in a way that made sense? “Stanley.” Why did the way that Narrator was speaking to him make him feel like he’d forgotten something - something important? Why wasn’t the ache in his chest going away? Why was this so hard?? “Stanley.” <WHAT!?> “There is no need to shout.” The Narrator said, firmly but patiently, after Stanley’s very angry signing towards the ceiling. Stanley looked rather sheepish; <Sorry.> The Narrator gave another heavy sigh; “Look, Stanley. Evidently, this hasn’t exactly gone according to plan.” Stanley nodded; he had to concede, the Narrator was right. All of this just felt wrong. “Tell you what; why don’t we just go to the employee lounge? Maybe I can… even try to activate one of the vending machines?” The Narrator may as well have offered a gold-plated bucket full of ice-cream with a nice, shiny red button on top, for how fast Stanley ran out of the room. Not only for the possibility of a nice, cool, generic can of soda, but for an excuse to leave the place that had left him feeling so thoroughly over-stimulated... “STANLEY! Stanley, wait, let me catch up-!” And the computer terminal - lifting itself up on velvet-soft, void-colored hands - very carefully dragged itself back into its proper place. —------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- <This is nice.> Despite his absence of mouth, The Narrator still couldn’t help but smile as he saw his protagonist splayed out on the couch, soda in hand. Perhaps they should try this more often, if he still remembered this after the next reset. Or perhaps Stanley would remember this time. Yes… yes, that would be nice. That way he wouldn’t have to remember those other things he had been remembering. “I’m sorry I was, eh... briefly preoccupied,” he said. Stanley boggled for a brief moment, and the Narrator realized what he’d just said. Him, the almighty, all-seeing and all-knowing Narrator - apologizing like he’d made a mistake?? He cleared his throat loudly, giving himself a few seconds to backtrack. “That is, ah, I mean - honestly, Stanley. I didn’t think you’d get yourself into so much trouble in the split-second I took my eyes off you.” He sneered, leaning in towards the microphone on his desk, so Stanley could better hear the thick layers of snark dripping from every syllable. “I mean, as your beleaguered babysitter, I really should have known better... where would you be without me, you poor thing? Probably helpless and trapped under a whole pile of computers, knowing you... ” Stanley rolled his eyes, and took another sip of his generic soda. The Narrator sighed in relief; ah, the status quo. Everything was settling back in quite nicely, oh yes. Just him, and his protagonist, and his perfect story playing out again and again. Satisfying ending after satisfying ending. No room for anything else... no room for those kinds of thoughts... <You know what would be nicer, though?> And just when things were going so well, the first thought that crossed the Narrator’s mind left him teetering on the brink of another breakdown. Of course... of course Stanley was about to interrupt this perfect moment, his perfect moment, to ask for the company of that bloody bucket... <If you were here.> “If I was there… ?” The Narrator said; now it was his turn to boggle. And with a face like his, he could boggle in a way the World Boggling Champion would find tough to out-boggle. “Stanley, did you drop that computer on your head as well? Perhaps several times in succession?” He scoffed, once again forcing himself to get a grip; “I’m your Narrator! I’m literally always here!” Stanley ran his finger around the round rim of the soda can, feeling its smooth edge beneath his fingertip as he thought for a moment. The memory of what had happened exactly was already starting to blur and fade, like some kind of strange dream, but he remembered a soft touch. He remembered hands; gentle hands. A feeling of wanting to be understood. It just seemed... familiar. <I’d like to know what holding your hand feels like.> The Narrator spluttered; “What!?” Stanley looked a little hurt; was that too much? Had he overstepped? It wasn’t like he’d asked for a hug or anything… though a hug would also be nice, he supposed. That oh so satisfying squeeze around his body, easing his worries, taking away some of that pent-up energy he so often found himself with. And from someone who - despite his frequently snippy attitude - really did seem to care about him, in some kind of way. But trying to picture that in his head… now he had further questions. , he asked, “Stanley… ” The Narrator strained, sweat pouring down his crimson brow. “You want to see me?” Stanley nodded with a great deal of enthusiasm, his soda suddenly forgotten, his eyes wide open to a whole new possibility. He’d never really thought about how he’d never seen The Narrator until - but now there was a choice in front of him! And he knew exactly which path to choose! <Yes!> The Narrator swallowed dryly. His fingers fidgeted nervously as he ran the imaginary scenario through his head. Did he really… ? Could he? Should he?? Then his eyes caught sight of his… hands. No, gloves. Whatever the hell the damn things were. And that familiar feeling of disgust and disdain came creeping and crawling back. No. No, he couldn’t possibly. Stanley would… Stanley would take one look and he’d laugh at him. He’d laugh and laugh and laugh at the Silly Drinky Birdy Man and he’d never take him or his story seriously ever again. Everything would be ruined. He’d be a complete and utter laughingstock. A failure. “No - no, Stanley, I… I don’t actually have a physical form.” The words turned to ashes in his mouth, and the ashes turned to icicles that pounded themselves into his heart as he saw the look on Stanley’s face. Oh, he thought he’d felt bad before, but now? The Narrator had never felt himself sink so low; he felt like he’d clip through the floor any second now, and pop out in the endless dark void beneath the map. He may as well have thrown a puppy into a piranha pit. <Oh… > The Narrator’s whole body shook; could he tell? Could Stanley tell this was a half-truth at best? That technically, yes - he could ‘unload’ his ‘model’ and disappear fully into his role as The Unseen Voice Of The Stanley Parable - but that it felt awful, it felt wrong, like there was some slim chance that he’d get “stuck” like that? Trapped, and unable to get out? Utterly extinguishing what little hope he still had that something could be done about his terrible fate? The hope that he could still escape this place, and get the Happily Ever After that never, ever came before ‘The End’… ? <Okay.> signed Stanley. <Thanks anyway.> And that was that. Oh, of course they probably agonized over it some more, in their own heads. Round and round they go, Stanley and the Narrator alike. How they long to understand each other, as well as themselves. But eventually, Stanley had to leave the Break Room. Eventually, the Narrator had to read the final lines of the Ending before everything Reset. And eventually, both of them forgot all about what happened; from the Narrator’s near-breakdown to Stanley’s misadventure with the terminal. From the not-broken soda machine to the poor, misunderstood, utterly transformed Employee 432. Fragments of memories, lost in the shuffle of Endings and Beginnings. But 432 had finally found a way in. The wheel would keep turning, they’d keep it turning, and now they finally had hope. They had hope. They weren’t going to give up on that so easily. And Stanley wasn’t going to give up, either. That nagging, persistent feeling that he’d see him again someday - whoever ‘he’ was - still remained. Some things go far deeper than a Reset can reach. Some things not saved aren’t always lost.

#The Stanley Parable #TSP Narrator #TSP Stanley #TSP #TSPUD #Stannarrator #Stanley/Narrator #NO BETA WE DIE LIKE IN THE ZENDING #Fanfic #Employee 436 #Employee 432

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3cremepie3 · 2 years

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𝑬𝒏𝒋𝒐𝒚

Smut 18+

Kobeni x fem reader

Filming, humiliation, degradation, use of sex toys, sub/ dom dynamics

“Isn’t that place for lovers?” Kobenai was puzzled as to why you asked her to go to HeartLand with her. “I seen friends go in here together plenty of times not just couples.” So what do you say?”

“Yes of course,” she exclaimed. Kobenai didn’t even know you saw her as a friend because she was too afraid to ask you even though you’ve been roommates for months. She was also too afraid to ask you out. Preferably to the very same amusement park.

But fate must have touched your mind somehow. She had always been a coward her whole life. Letting people degrade her and boss her around. She hated it wanting to free herself from those very things. That’s why she moved with you once she saw the available space.

She didn’t know moving with you would stir up feelings. One day after she went into your room to ask you a question she stumbled on something she wasn’t supposed to see. Strapped to your chair was a 10-inch dildo recently used. And open on your computer tab was a Tumblr post.

What she read had her dumbfounded. It was a post written about how you would love to degrade a willing sub into submission until they break. She exited your room before you came out of the bathroom ready to clean up your mess.

Ever since then after she came home from her late shift she would creep towards your room. Just to see your creaming pussy riding on the girthy dildo. She would fall to her knees and touch herself to you writing all of your filthy thoughts as you came undone. She always disappeared before you noticed her or so she thought.

Flash forward since you guys got to HeartLand late in the day you decided to stay in your motel. Hearts motel would have to do instead of the luxury hotels the amusement park carried since you two had a limited budget.

The motel room was amazing chocolate flavored condoms in every corner and the actual candy. A big heart bed there was nothing more y’all could ask for. Except for people your age to not have the same idea.

Since they all came to motels instead you would hear all their groans and moans through the walls. “Um, I’m gonna go in the hot tub for a little while I’ll see you.” Kobenai slipped out leaving you shocked.

Your plan to spend a romantic night at HeartLand had failed. See after she snuck into your room you snuck in hers reading through some notes tabs she had opened. They were surprisingly innocent compared to Kobeni who you thought was just a raging hormone in a young woman's body. They talked about plans for you two to get married and go to HeartLand for your honeymoon.

So you tried to make the plan come true bringing her here and hoping she’ll get so flustered to the point where she would have confessed her feelings for you. But she had just left out hearing all the lovemaking through the walls and seeing Kobeni’s flustered face had you horny.

She would be in the tub for while you figured so you had time for a quick play session.

Kobenai walked to the pool and hot tub area and saw that the gate was locked at 10:00. It was 10:05. She was upset that she just missed the pool but went upstairs anyway. Maybe this was a sign to spend time with you. While In the middle of kicking off her flip-flops and turning the door handle she stopped. She was hearing strange noises.

She listened closer hearing moans and groans coming from you. She knew these very well since she was such a pervert always spying on you. Your strained voice brought her out of her thoughts. “Kobeni!” She swears she heard you moan. She froze staying at the door. “I know your out there baby come on help me I know you’d love to.”

She would love to go in there and ravish your body until your brain was mush but she couldn’t. Or so she thought her body moved on her own opening the door to reveal you all sloppy looking your clothes half off.

“Um,” you began to say. “I’m sorry I didn’t notice sooner Y/n.” She was shocked if only had she acted on her feelings and she was less of a coward you wouldn’t have had to wait for so long.

“It’s not okay,” you pouted. “Get over here,” you demanded. “I happen to know a way you could make playing with my feelings up to me.”

“I’ll do anything,” she confessed. “I take you up on that.”

“Now come one bend over and show the camera how wet you are.” She bent over face down ass up exposing her drooling pussy. “Take the rest of your swimsuit off,” you commanded. She peeled the rest of her swimsuit on revealing the rest of her petite figure.

“Now do what I asked as I sit back and relax or else you’ll get punished.” Yes, mom-my.” She stuttered on the last part not wanting to call you such a dirty name. Or you should be the one calling her that. She sat in the cowgirl position grinding on a dildo you brought just to use on her.

“Good girl,” you hummed. She rubbed up and down on the plastic her eyes rolling as it hit her clit. You sat in an armchair with a vibrator rubbing against your folds.

“Start speaking now,” you dictated. “Yes.” She sunk down on the dildo her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “Come on take it all or do you need some help.”

“I can do it.” She insisted coming all the way off just to impale the thick shaft into her body. She screamed not being used to such a thick size. “Mmm that’s a good girl,” you hummed.

“Now why don’t you start the confession.” O-okay I will.” You looked delectable your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you turned up your setting. She wanted so badly to finish you off but she wasn’t allowed to touch you. Or herself the only thing that was allowed was her grinding on the dildo.

“Y/n!” I’ve been in love with you for mon-ths Ahh!” You turned the vibrations in her dildo on. “I write in my journal about how much I love you every night.” I just can’t help it your sooo- mmm shit.” Amazing!” Kobeni’s legs began to shake her slight pain turning all the way to pleasure.

“I want to cum to you.” No, I didn’t mean it like that.” I want to say I love you so much!” Her tongue fell out of her mouth as she creamed all over the dildo. It still vibrated in her as she fell over.

You turned your vibe off you got up off the chair your legs still wobbly. “What a sweet confession right you guys.” You laughed at the camera. “If only you were completely honest you could have gotten off the hook,” you hissed.

“Wait what,” she questioned. Before she could do much of anything you crawled to her sucking hickeys all over her neck and then to her sweet spot.

“Aww your so sensitive,” you snickered. “Stop all this teasing please!” Just let me touch you L/n.” Hmm let me think about that,” you pondered.

“No.” She whined as you began to rub her hardened nipples. You took one of them into your mouth swirling your tongue around it as your other hand pinched her other bud.

She couldn’t take the torture anymore she needed to touch you at least.

You grabbed her hand bringing it away from your body. You looked back to the camera. “Look she can’t even go a couple of minutes without touching me what a whore.”

She whined at your harsh words feeling turned on by them. “We’ll you failed already.” Let’s begin with the punishment.”

You pulled some handcuffs from the red nightstand. They were cute bedazzled in red diamonds. But they looked even cuter when they locked Kobeni's hands to the bed frame.

A/n: I’ll make a part 2 I enjoyed this!! I support a secret dom Kobeni!!

#chainsaw man #chainsaw man smut #chainsaw smut #cw edging #cw filmed sex #tw degradation #kobeni #kobeni smut #3creampie3 #heartland #anime smut #anime #wlw smut #lesbian smut #csm smut #csm part 2 #csm x reader

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kinfanfiction · 1 year

Text

Bernard x Elf!Reader - Chapter 3 - Secrets Not So Well-Kept

A/N: Tumblr is acting weird today right as I’m struggling to post this before midnight. It was an incredibly busy day! I really didn’t know what to write and I think this chapter is shorter than the others so I apologize for that. I was really just winging it. I’m trying to avoid posting these so late in the day so y’all can read them on the day they’re supposed to take place but apparently that’s been close to impossible. In spite of that, hope this is still an enjoyable chapter for y’all!

6 days till Christmas, and Bernard arrived at the workshop early in the morning to discover a giant pile of paperwork he had to take care of. Judy brought him some cocoa, which made him think of being with you the night before. He reminisced quietly for a moment, before redirecting his focus to the task at hand. After about a couple hours of nonstop reading lists of all the toys logged, seeing if they were logged correctly, who each toy was being delivered to, who was getting coal this year, and if every address in the book was up to date, even the soothing cocoa he was sipping on couldn’t ease Bernard’s headache. Yet, being who he was, he refused to take a break, and he continued pushing through.

When you woke up in your bed, it took you a moment to remember how you got home. You laid there for a moment, thinking back and then remembering coming back here with Bernard. You remembered sharing cocoa and conversation, but you couldn’t recall saying goodbye to him and getting into bed. It took a few more minutes for you to realize you hadn’t gotten in bed on your own, you’d fallen asleep on him. He must’ve put you to bed after the fact. You felt a little embarrassed at the thought. Then, before thinking about it any further, you sprung out of bed and got dressed in some fresh clothing, and stepped into the kitchen to make breakfast. You noticed the mugs you used for cocoa had been cleaned and put away. You made yourself a new batch of the drink, and some oatmeal cookies. You ate two cookies and made your way to the workshop.

Immediately upon your arrival, another elf requested your assistance in building a little red bike for a kid named Timmy. You quickly began working with the elf, and soon the bike was done. You quickly returned to the flow of toy making. You helped finish one after the other, and then it was time to switch back to stocking stuffers. The day was, for the most part, a repeat of the day before. Although this time you hadn’t seen Bernard at all. You figured now wasn’t the time to go searching for him, as you had a lot of projects to finish, and you assumed he did too.

Santa went around the workshop, checking on everything and making sure everyone was on track. Then, saving best for last, he went up to check on his head elf. The second he found Bernard, he knew the elf needed to step away from his work pile. “Bernard..” He spoke, tapping on the door even though he had already opened it. Bernard picked his head up immediately upon hearing his boss’s voice.

“Sir?”

“Why don’t you take a break and walk with me around the shop?”

“I really can’t, there’s so much to finish in time for Christmas Eve-”

“You won’t be able to do your best work with a headache.”

“How do you-?”

“I can tell by the way you’re holding your head.”

Bernard quit leaning onto his hand and sat up. “If I step away now, I’ll be off track and won’t be able to get this done by tonight.” He spoke in an exasperated tone.

Santa laughed boisterously, “Bernard, I don’t expect you to get all of this done tonight. C’mon, get up and take a 15 minute stroll with me to clear your head.”

“I’ve been doing this every year for almost a thousand years, I don’t need to take a stroll.”

“That wasn’t a request.”

Bernard sighed and stood up, walking out the door beside Santa, holding his hands behind his back.

Bernard looked out at the workshop below them as they walked, his headache still very present, and he spotted you stuffing a teddy bear and passing it on to the next elf to be sewn up. He unknowingly stopped in his tracks, which made Santa stop and follow his line of sight back to you. “You shouldn’t be handling all that paperwork on your own.. maybe you could ask that “friend” of yours to help out. As the saying goes; ‘Many hands make light work.’” Santa knew better than to believe Bernard strictly thought of you as a friend. He wasn’t as good at hiding it as he thought. He hoped that eventually his head elf would find the courage to tell you the truth, since clearly you were blind to his feelings.

“No! I could never ask that of her, she’s already handling so much.”

“I’m sure she’d be happy to help.”

“Which is exactly why I won’t ask, she’ll gladly take on the work and then wear herself out.”

“It’s okay to accept help, Bernard.”

“I’m not asking her for help.” He crossed his arms to express the finality of his decision. Santa gave a shrug.

“Fine. Then I’ll ask her for you.” Bernard’s eyes widened.

“Don’t-!”

“Y/n! Can you come up here for a moment?”

You were in your own little toy making world for a while, until Santa’s voice booming across the workshop snapped you out of it. Your head snapped in the direction of where he and Bernard stood, and your best friend looked terrified, and now as a result so were you.

The elves stared at you for a moment as you began walking up the stairs, before quickly returning to work. You knew they’d be guessing amongst themselves what the boss could’ve possibly called you over for. You walked up the stairs and towards Santa, running through the possibilities of something you might’ve done wrong. Maybe you sucked at traffic control and he had notes to give? You really weren’t sure, you were always careful not to make any mistakes on the job.

“Y/n, I have a request to make.” Santa didn’t seem upset when he spoke, so you relaxed. You looked over at Bernard, who was covering his face with his hands because he felt both annoyed and embarrassed. Santa set a hand on the head elf’s shoulder, which made him quickly move his hands back behind his back, exposing his sheepish expression. “Bernard here has a lot of paperwork to look through, and I’m afraid it might be too much for him to handle on his own.”

Bernard shook his head and mouthed. ‘I’m fine, you do not have to help me.’

You gave him a confused look and then looked back at Santa. “He doesn’t want to admit that he could use a little help, so I decided it’d be better if I asked for him, and I know the two of you are close, so I figured you were the one to ask.” You nodded quickly.

“Of course, Sir.”

“Well, that’s settled.” He said, patting the elf on the back. “Good luck you two.” Santa said, before walking off and leaving the two of you alone. You turned to face Bernard.

“You know you can always ask me for help if you need it, right?” You softly reminded him.

“I know, but you already do so much, and it’s not fair to ask more from you.” Telling you what he’d told Santa.

“Well, that’s just ridiculous. Never hesitate to come get me if you need help.”

“Technically, I could do the paperwork on my own, it’s Santa who thinks I need help.” He insisted. You rolled your eyes.

“Just because you can doesn’t mean it’s a good idea. Let’s go.” You pulled him back to his office, and began taking a good look at the piles of documents he had to sort through. You looked back at him in surprise, “You really planned on doing all this by yourself?” You shook your head, picking up a small stack of papers and looking through them.

“Yes, I did. I still do. Really, you don’t have to help me.”

“I’ve already started, there’s no getting me out of here now.”

Bernard sighed, “Thank you.” He said finally.

“You’re welcome.” You responded with a grin.

The two of you sat around for the rest of the day, drinking cocoa and going through one paper at a time. With the both of you working together, by the end of the day you’d evaluated and approved all of the documents. You just had to deliver them to Santa to look over and you were all set.

The both of you set down the last of the documents on Santa’s desk, and you left out the door. Bernard turned to follow you, but Santa’s voice stopped him.

“Bernard, you gotta tell her. She clearly cares a lot about you, she’ll want to know.”

The elf nodded, “I will. All in due time.” He agreed. He partially just agreed so he could go home, but as he said those words, he wanted so badly to mean them. He hoped to tell you one day, ideally soon. He left Santa’s office and then the two of you walked back to your house as you usually did. You both stopped by your front door, and you turned to him.

“About last night, I’m sorry I fell asleep on you.” You chuckled a little, slightly embarrassed.

Bernard waved his arms in front of him, shooing the apology away because it was unnecessary. “Don’t apologize. Yesterday was a lot, you were understandably exhausted.”

“Well, I imagine you had to be exhausted too, and you didn’t fall asleep on me.”

“If I had, would you have been upset?”

“No, but-”

“Then why should I be?”

You paused for a moment before speaking again, “Okay, fair enough. I don’t know, I guess I’m just a little embarrassed that I did that.”

“Don’t be.” He spoke earnestly.

“On that note.. would you ever be upset if I asked you for help with something?”

“Hey now.. don’t turn this on me.” He spoke with a nervous chuckle, “ Santa should’ve never put you on the spot like that, I’m so sorry.”

“Don’t be.” You repeated his words back to him. “I’m just saying, there’s no good reason not to ask for my help, I’ll always be happy to help you, you’re my best friend.”

His expression softened, “I’m glad to be your best friend. I hope nothing ever ruins our friendship.”

You looked at him with a sudden curiosity, “What could possibly ruin our friendship?” You asked, tilting your head.

The elf shook his head, “Nothing.. I was just speaking hypothetically..” He lied, scratching the back of his neck and avoiding eye contact, afraid that if your eyes met his, you’d see right through him.

“Well, as far as I’m concerned, there’s nothing that could, not even hypothetically. So you have nothing to worry about.”

“Are you sure about that?” He questioned, because he was almost certain his feelings for you were capable of tearing your current relationship to shreds.

“Is there something you’re not telling me?” You questioned him further.

Now he realized he better shut up soon and go home before you look too far into his words. “No! Just like- what if I was secretly evil or something?” He joked to deflect the question.

You snorted and quickly burst into laughter, “You? Evil? Please, you may be a little snarky sometimes, but I don’t think you have the capacity for evil.”

“Oh really?” He spoke with a grin, “Well, I’m glad you think so.”

“I know so.” You insisted.

“Goodnight, Y/n. Sleep well.”

“You too, Bernard.”

#bernard the elf #bernard x reader #bernard the elf x reader #x reader #fem reader #the santa clause #the santa clause 2 #fanfic #fanfiction #david krumholtz #y/n #chapter 3

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theblackestvalkyrie · 2 years

Text

#1 - Iron Man - One-shot (Pipe Game Series)

Pairing: Tony Stark x Reader

Summary: Your second -trimester pregnancy hormones were hitting you hard and you wanted needed Tony to wreck your guts ASAP. But after a long day of being cooped up in his lab, Tony only wants to get his.

Warning: Smut, sex while pregnant and a rude ass Tony, PREGNANCY KINK GO BRRRRRR!

A/N: My characters and reader inserts are always and forever black so leave if you don’t like it.

A/N EDIT: Y’all tumblr really got me during the ban and I seriously considered deleting this blog and moving to AO3 but y’all really loved this and since I’ve been seeing so much porn on my personal account lately I’m bout to start posting again. No porn gifs this time around just in case. This series is from 2018 and I’ve go to much in my drafts 😅 I made the banner below! Please enjoy!

Pipe Game: 2/10

Based on this post.

You were used to the long nights alone when it came to being with Tony Stark. He spent hours in his lab tinkering with his Iron Man suits or updating features for his A.I. replacement F.R.I.D.A.Y. while you went out with friends or to your OB/GYN appointments with your sister (since Tony always had some flimsy excuse as to why he couldn’t go).

This put a damper on not only your emotional relationship but the physical one as well. Which is the part you were desperately needing right about now. After passing the second-trimester mark in your very unplanned pregnancy, every little thing seemed to turn you on and you missed him.

Things had been strained after his public breakup with Pepper Potts and afterward, Tony buried himself with work to distract from all thoughts of his ex. At the time you barely knew him like that but you had been burned by more than one guy in your past relationships so you knew what he was going through.

You went to his place with some comfort food and his favorite whiskey and several glasses of warming alcohol and bellies full of food he leaned over and kissed you. To say you were shocked was an understatement. But you kissed him back and that led to rough sex on the couch. From then on, you and Tony had a ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement and it worked out well.

That is until you accidentally got pregnant.

Tony had never outright expressed interest in having children but you could see it in the way he looked at his surrogate son protégé, Peter. God, the look on his face when you told him you were pregnant.

You had never seen such fear, excitement and bewilderment in one expression much less on his face in all the years you had known him and you would bet Thor’s hammer he had even shed a tear.

The glow from your bedroom television pulled you from your thoughts and you ran a finger along the side of your swollen abdomen feeling your baby move a little.

You relaxed against the soft sheets and memory foam mattress beneath as you browsed Netflix settling on watching the first season of ‘Dear White People’ over again. You were ten minutes into the first episode when a sudden tingle of arousal made its way down your spine making your breath hitch in surprise.

It seemed that the further you got into your pregnancy, the hornier you became and usually when it happened, Tony was around to relieve you in some way.

It was frustrating not having him in the room but you needed to get off.

Now.

You muted the show and closed your eyes letting your nimble fingers slipped beneath your grey sweatpants, underneath the cotton panties resting there and the pads of your fingers danced across your already engorged clit. A light wave of pleasure ran through you causing your back to bend in a slight arch.

Fuck Tony.

You could get off without him. You didn’t need that neglectful asshole to do anything for you. If he wanted some pussy, he could get it from his robots.

The pleasuring sensation radiated from between your legs as you let your slim fingers circle your clit and trailed between the folds finding the slick opening and you groaned even louder this time. You closed your eyes then tilting your head back in unfocused desire. Fingers, ever so lightly, dipped into your soaked entrance. Once, then twice before sinking between your slick walls and curling to graze your g-spot at the top.

A small noise slipped between your lips and you mewled your desire which echoed off your bedroom walls. Fuck you were already so close and you had only just begun. You might be even more aroused than you first thought.

A few more precise thrusts and you were almost there…

“Holy shit Y/N.”

Your eyes snapped opened to find Tony leaning on the door frame, arms folded and a lustful gaze adorning his tired face.

“Didn’t I tell you never to touch yourself without me?”

A playful smirk crossed your face at his reference to your last sexual encounter. It was a few weeks ago but it involved bondage tape and a pint of vanilla ice cream…

“Well, you were in the lab all day and I have needs.” You cooed; fingers still toyed with your clit while maintaining eye contact with your lover.

“I guess I’ll have to teach you a lesson on what happens when you don’t listen to daddy.”

He crossed the room in four long strides and got onto the bed where you lean up and met him in a harsh kiss. Under normal circumstances, you would have relished the opportunity to tease him sexually but you needed it hard and fast tonight.

“Fuck Tony I missed this.” You sighed into his mouth taking in the day-old stubble along his sharp jawline and the dark bags under his eyes and a jolt of sadness went through you at how hard Tony had been overworking himself. He gripped your hand that had been down your sweats pulling them from their place between your thighs and began to suck your essence off your fingers into his wet warm mouth. His tongue slipping between your digits making sure to catch every drop of your juices.

“I almost forgot how good you tasted baby.” He breathed.

Tony kissed you then allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue and lips, thumbs caressing your cheeks as your breath mingled. He slowly guided you onto your back and you undid the closure of his jeans slipping the same hand he had tasted beneath the waistband and palming him with precise strokes that only grew in pressure.

Tony grunted in excitement and started thrusting his hard shaft into your palm hissing when you swiped a thumb across the angry head. The digit gathered the precum from the tip and smoothed the substance back across the swollen head again.

You pulled away to strip off the rest of your restrictive clothes and Tony followed suit until you were both as naked as the day you were born. His mouth found your sensitive brown nipple and you gasped, the pleasure tearing through you.

“Let me make you feel good Y/N.”

You could only respond with a whimper when he squeezed your heavy mounds and started nipping at each nipple. You bit back a moan. Fuck, you were so sensitive now it was almost painful and you were almost thankful when Tony kissed his way up your chest, across the slender curve of your neck and back to your swollen lips.

“Baby, I need you.” You begged.

You jumped in surprise when the sudden feeling of his fingers slipping between your slick folds and invaded your warmth. The digits curling and scissoring against your pulsing walls. Crying out, your back arched as hips rocked in time with his pace in beautiful unison.

No words were exchanged as he spread your legs wider still very mindful of your pregnancy, watching you swallow his fingers and clench around them when he added a third, “You’re such a good girl Y/N. Taking my fingers so well.”

You were so close to release it almost hurt. “Fuck yes Tony, right there.”

His fingers stopped suddenly and a wicked smirk crossed his face. He gripped his length and began jerking himself to the obscene way you were spread out for him. Breathless and ready for the taking. Unable to wait any longer, he slowly slid his length into your warm tunnel and gripped your hips tight in an effort to stop himself from coming inside you.

“Your pussy is so hot,” He was lightly panting in an effort to stave off his impending orgasm as his eyes, wild with desire, took in your figure sprawled out beneath him. Tony could tell by the way you clenched around him that you were also struggling with your own early release.

The starting pace was slow for both your sake and it took your breath away. You couldn’t see much over your slightly swollen stomach but you could hear the obscene wet sound of your slick combating the harsh breathing and otherwise quiet of the bedroom. The pace was even until one sudden thrust hit the back of your core.

“Fuck Tony that hurt” you gasped and his thrusts stopped immediately.

“Are you alright Y/N? Did I hurt you or the baby?”

The concern in his eyes was admirable and you leaned up to kiss him gently trying to keep him focused on the task at hand.

“I’m just a bit tender babe, nothing to get worried about. Just get on your back so I can ride you.”

“If I knew you liked being a dom so much, I would have bought you a bullwhip and a matching ball gag for your birthday.” He flipped over excited and wiggled his eyebrows suggestively even as you straddled him and quickly slipped his cock back inside your wetness, whimpering when you felt him stretch you.

“We can even make one of the downstairs rooms into a dungeon and you can go all 50 Shades of Grey on my ass” he hissed as your pussy swallowed him greedy and your kegel muscles clenched around his dick.

“If you mention that god-awful movie again, I’m going to leave you here to get off by yourself.” You huffed even though you didn’t believe a word of what you said.

“Don’t be like that honey.”

“Just fuck me, Tony.” You sighed.

Your hips moved in a rocking motion and he jerked from between your thighs. Snapping your hips together in unison you controlled the speed and depth which helped keep pressure off the baby shifting around your abdomen.

Your cries echoed off the walls as he gripped your hips with both hands, sweat beginning to coat your bodies making your hips slap together. Tony lifted his head and glanced down at where you both connected.

“You look so good baby, so fucking delicious.”

His hips slammed forward causing you to cry out in both pain and pleasure and you set a deep rhythm making Tony’s dizzy. He let out a particularly strangled moan when hazy eyes connected with his and the intense eye contact enhanced the love making. The Hulk himself could have been raging through Stark Tower and neither of you would have stopped.

“Pregnancy looks so fucking beautiful on you.”

Your cheeks flushed at his words. Tony wasn’t usually this talkative in bed but there was something about this entire pregnancy situation that opened up a new side of him. A softer side, one rarely seen by the outside world much less his close friends.

You circled your hips on his hard length changing the pace to one agonizingly slow edging both Tony and yourself off of an impending orgasm to make the moment of ecstasy last longer.

Tony panted beneath you and pinched one of your sensitive nipples when he figured out what you were up too and you grinned. It wasn’t often that anyone had control over Tony and it was always a treat to see him so defeated and at someone else’s mercy. But there he was, hair disheveled, eyes shut and lips parted melting beneath you. You kissed your way down his neck and started sucking on the tender shell beneath his earlobe.

“You know if you didn’t have your bonnet on, I could pull your hair….”

You snorted and flicked one of his nipples in mock retaliation both for the words and the pinch he gave earlier. You already spent almost an hour detangling, moisturizing and putting rollers in to let Tony fuck it up with this foolishness.

“Shut the fuck up Tony.”

Eyes shut and head tilted towards the ceiling, you could only focus on the pleasure you were getting and the soft glow from his arch reactor illuminated your silhouette perfectly.

His dick reached the farthest parts of your sensitive womb making you squeal. You were so close to release you could almost taste it.

“Tony…please I- I can’t” You were mumbling incoherently.

You just needed a few more thrusts-

Suddenly Tony stilled beneath you groaning his own release into your pussy and flopped on to his back in deep exhaustion.

“What the actual fuck.” Disbelief colored your voice as you felt him begin to soften inside you.

He lay gasping for air a content and sleepy look on his face.

“You know what the word daddy does to me Y/N. By the way, have I ever told you how much I love you?”

You slipped off of him and smacked his arm hard. “I can’t believe you just came before me you asshole!”

“Mr. Stark,” F.R.I.D.A.Y interrupted, “you are needed downstairs immediately Dum-E has set one of your experiments on fire”. The A. I’s voice cut through the room and Tony gave you a sheepish grin. Wiping your fluids from his well-worn dick with your discarded shirt, Tony pulled on his boxers and pressed a quick kiss to your damp forehead.

“There’s a playlist of porn by the TV and I moved the vibrators under the bed.” He jested only ducking out when you chucked a pillow in his direction.

“Sonofabitch…” you mutter the silence of the room weighing on you.

Sighing you grabbed the remote from the nearby nightstand and changed the input on the still muted TV ignoring the ‘are you still watching’ notice from Netflix.

“F.R.I.D.A.Y?”

“Yes, Miss Y/N?

You spread your thighs and began to toy with your swollen clit ready to chase your orgasm once again.

“Turn on the security footage of Captain America in the training room…...”

#Pipe Game Series #tony stark x reader #anthony stark x reader #oneshot dad!tony stark #pregnant reader #iron man smut #tony stark imagine #black reader #pregnancy kink

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patrol-partners-batphandom-2023 · 1 year

Text

Hi everyone! As we head into the start of sign-ups (reminder that sign-ups open on the 25th of May), there are more things opening for the event!

We’ve mentioned that there will be a discord server, and today we have exciting news!

Next week, on Wednesday May 17th, the Patrol Partners discord server will be opening! The server will be a place for participants of the event to get to know each other, hang out, and ask questions, and us mods are all hoping you guys will have lots of fun with it!

This post is going to be a sort of how-to post on joining the server and keeping things easy and fun for everyone!

So, without further ado, I present to you…

How to Get (and stay) On the Patrol Partners Discord Server

Alright!!! This is going to be your favorite step-by-step guide! Failure to follow the instructions detailed in this post will result in removal from the discord server and event.

The following information does not apply to those of you on the Batpham discord server. You will all be sent a link through the server.

1. Send us a DM!

Please send us a DM on this tumblr. The DM should follow this format as closely as possible:

Hello! My name is [name] and I would like to request an invite to the Patrol Partners discord server. I am [discord name] on discord, and I am [Tumblr URL(s)] on tumblr.

2. Read through the posts we have on this Tumblr

The contents of this tumblr page explain how the event will work, and, as the discord is for participants of the event only, you should know how the event works, and check to make sure you have a complete understanding on what will be required of you. If you have any questions, our ask box remains open for questions, as do our DMs.

3. Expect a wait

Every single one of the mods is human, which means we have schooling, jobs, sleep, food, hydration, and other life requirements that take up our time. We will not be available 24/7 to send you an invite, and you need to respect that. If the invite has not arrived after 5-6 days of sending a request, you may send another one. Sending more than two requests will result in all requests being ignored.

4. Rules!!

This is the fun part. The following are basic rules that apply to the discord server. Please read these over before sending a request to ensure that you are able to follow them.

Listen to the mods

We run the server and the event. We have access to everything on the server, and we won’t do anything without a reason. So long as we are not asking for you to do something morally wrong, just listen to us.

Respect each other

Be a decent human being. This is a co-authoring event and you need to be able to be able to collaborate with others.

Be mindful of triggers

There’s a list that you will be able to find on the server. Be nice and don’t trigger someone. One mention is fine, anything beyond that needs to be tagged out with a warning as to why.

Keep things in their designated channels

There are channels for a reason. Just keep things where they’re supposed to be. If you aren’t sure where something should go, feel free to ping one of the mods to ask!

Respect pronouns and names

Everyone has a pronoun role, and everyone has a name. If you aren’t sure what to call someone, ask. Otherwise, just be a decent human being and respect people’s names/pronouns

Don’t threaten people

Look, joking threats are fine, as long as everyone knows you aren’t serious, but please don’t threaten someone, with violence or otherwise. That is, in fact, illegal and a chargeable offense, one that we could possibly get the server shut down for should anything become of it.

Follow the rules.

This one’s obvious. If you aren’t sure how/why a rule is there, ask a mod!

That’s all, folks! Quick reminder that our asks are always open, and that sign-ups open on the 25th.

We hope to see y’all there!

-Jayden

FAQ

#dpxdc crossover event #patrol partners event info #patrol partners event 2023 #dpxdc

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smallestapplin · 2 years

Note

Okay

Okay pls listen to me

Pokémon Legends Arceus but Red and Blue gets Hisui’d instead of Lucas/Dawn.

Red is super chill about everything, would probably spend a lot of time in either Coronet Highland or Alabaster Iceland.

He doesn’t talk a lot, looks like he’s constantly glaring, he’s tall, and can befriend a Pokémon in a few minutes, a lot of people are scared of him.

Imagine the fear Volo must have felt when at spear Pilar, instead of hearing his theme play, Red’s did. (Red is very disappointed he didn’t have a master ball to catch Girantina :/)

Blue in the other hand just wants a shower. Don’t get him wrong he loves seeing all the new Pokemons and variants, but he just wants a warm meal and shower.

He’s besties with Palina in therms if “OMG YOUR PUPPY LOOKS SO CUTE !!”

I want Blue to adopt an Hisuian Growlith pls thank you.

Blue is part of the Kamado Slander group.

I want him to share his Knowles she about Pokemons with Laventon and the myths in Kanto with Volo.

Blue would mostly stay in Obsidian field and Cobalt Coastland. (He would sometimes venture in Coronet Highlands under Ingo’s supervision.)

I can imagine Blue recognizing Ingo from his little trop to Unova and trying his darn best to help Ingo with his memory.

-EDS anon

(Part2 cause tumblr decided to fuck up.)

Red is about to spark fear into Volo, the blonde is going to learn quickly why Arceus chose Red.

Red is more upset he doesn’t have a pokeball to color match to Giratina. It makes him sad :(

He stays in the Icelands the most, only going to the highlands to find Blue, knowing his best friend is likely fucking around in the ruins.

He’s known to walk out when Kamado is mid sentence.

RED AND CYLLENE WOULD BE BESTIES.

They’d be those friends who have never spoken a word to each other, just existing in the same room. Red gets rid of bugs, and Cyllene gives him shit to do and makes sure he’s fed.

Not a word still.

She just does her paperwork and eats in peace, while Red trains or just pampers his pokemon.

You’re right tho! Blue and Palina would also be besties.

They met and it was quiet, before they both shouted at the sametime “CAN I PET YOUR DOG?”

Now they swap cute and funny dog stories, ones that Blue’s Arcanine is gonna tail smack him for.

Also opened his door one day and there stood Ingo and he went “Funky train dude? What are you doing here?”

Only to be met with Ingo’s confusion and the warden asking “what is a train? That sounds familiar but I can’t recall.”

Ingo is now being adopted by Blue into this found family group.

Y’all know that post about vampires using insults from ever period of time they have lived through? That’s Blue.

He’s going to use every insult he can to insult Kamado to the man’s face.

Hisuian insults, to Kanto insults, to every insult this man has seen or heard from all his trips and internet usage.

#eds anon #pokemon #pokemon imagines #pokémon #anon #Pokémon red #pokemon blue #pokémon legends of arceus #pokémon legends arceus #pokemon legends arceus #legends arceus #pokemon red

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duckprintspress · 10 months

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“Aim For The Heart”: Campaign Updates and Spotlights on Artist Jennifer Smith and Author R. L. Houck

The campaign to fund Aim For The Heart: Queer Fanworks Inspired by Alexandre Dumas’s “The Three Musketeers” is now halfway done and going strong! For those not super familiar with how campaigns go, usually the bulk of funding comes in during the first 48 hours and the last 48 hours of the campaign. I personally usually look to see us at 50% funded by the end of the first 48 hours; if we hit that metric then I can say with a fair degree of confidence that we’ll reach our goal. This campaign did hit that, handily, and now with 15 days left, we’re only $750 shy of our goal! While I’m not hosting any parades yet, as I check in midway through our campaign…we’re doing great.

A huge, HUGE thank you to everyone who has backed so far, and also to everyone who has helped spread the word about the campaign. Word of mouth is 10000% the most effective way to help people find out this project exists and get them interested in buying the anthology; we’d never get to the goal without our supporters, and we’d never get there without every person who says, “hey, have you seen this?” Y’all rock. We love that we get to bring you awesome books.

Anyway, on to today’s contributor spotlights!

Knight and Squire by Jennifer Smith

About the Artist: Smith has been drawing since a young age. With a focus in traditional drawing techniques, she has recently started using digital mediums to imitate traditional styles. Her focus is in portraiture and landscapes, especially with watercolor. You can find more of her art on her Tumblr.

Link: Tumblr

Allergy Girl and the Hate Arrangement by R. L. Houck

About the Author: R. L. Houck (she/her) still has one of the first stories she ever wrote, all the way back from elementary school. It was about flightless penguins reaching the sun and was a good indication of her boundless imagination and her love of animals. The latter became a full-time veterinary career; the former keeps her occupied with fanfiction and original fiction in her downtime.

She’s sometimes found wandering the woods around her house in Virginia with her dog. If not there, she’s sitting on the couch, catching up on a Netflix series, and smothered by her five cats. Sometimes, there’s even space for her wife.

Links: TikTok

Story Teaser:

“Oh, no! Mom’s been very supportive of me being trans. I just meant the name change. For an English lit professor, she has a real hard-on against Shakespeare,” Portia said. “It was one of the main reasons I chose the name.”

Christa didn’t want to bring the conversation down by discussing unsupportive parents of LGBTQA+ kids. Instead, she jumped on the mention of Shakespeare. “Well, Portia was a kick-ass character too,” Christa said.

“Right? Thank you!”

“You’re quite welcome. Oh! Phoenix! Is that why you chose the tattoo? Never mind, you don’t have to answer that. I apologize—I’m being super nosy,” Christa said, immediately backtracking.

Portia laughed. “You’re fine. That is exactly why I chose the phoenix: rebirth. And those pictures are sent; tell me what you think.”

A few seconds later, Christa got a text message from an unknown number. She opened it to see a gorgeous flower arrangement shown in several pictures taken from multiple angles.

“Wow. This is beautiful,” Christa said, voice faint from awe. “Are you sure this says, ‘I hate your guts and wish abstract misery upon you for the rest of your natural existence’ in flower language?”

“…in so many words, yes,” Portia said, sounding amused.

Tags: allergies, attraction at first sight, character has a different gender than in the source material, customer service representative, deadnaming (accidental), f/f, florist, getting together, the language of flowers, meet awkward, modern, past tense, pining, pov third person limited, siblings, tattoo, triplets, trans

We’ve already raised $7,250 to fund this anthology, and we’re 90% of the way to our goal. Come see what all the fuss is about, and help us spread the word by sharing today’s awesome teasers or any of our past posts!

#duck prints press #aim for the heart #r. l. houck #jennifer smith #kickstarter #projectswelove

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headaching · 1 year

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nothing to see here just me saying ilysm and hope you’re doing well and if not i hope good things come to you soon because you deserve them all okay bye 💖💖💖

nellie……..you have no idea how many times ive opened this intending to answer it but i just………UGH i can’t even begin to describe how much this message means to me. how much you mean to me!!!!! 🫶

im actually doing better than i have in years, and i am truly grateful for all of the positive things that have happened to me this year, including continuing my tenure on tumblr dot com with incredible people like you <3

but something i learned recently is that i have a difficult time processing all emotions, not just negative ones, so having this blog easily gets emotionally overwhelming when i receive so much kindness and friendship from all of my friends here and can’t quickly and adequately return it. that’s why im really bad at replying to everyone in every form, from asks (this one is like a week old now), to messages, letters, ao3 comments, etc. and i worry it comes off as if i don’t care when the reality is that i care so much that i literally don’t know what to do with it.

also ive been going through a depressive episode recently! that’s why ive been gone and taken an extra long time to respond to things. i didn’t want to push myself to post when i don’t have the energy, but it’s the last day of 2022 and i’d be remiss not to let y’all know what you mean to me :’)

sorry for using your ask as an opportunity to air out how ive been feeling for a little while but i love you very much and you deserve a world of happiness. i hope you have an amazing new year my love 💕

#ufhzjfhjsdj this probably doesn’t even make sense but i had to say it or i would explode #nellie. do you know how special you are to me??? thank you for sending me this it means everything to me!!!!#asks #mutuals #fave

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abyssalhuntersnerd · 2 years

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Fleeting Dream (Tumblr Exclusive Drabble)

Just a little drabble I’ve had in my Google Drive for too damn long and that was supposed to be the basis for Specter’s birthday this year but, Specter Alter changed a lot of my plans so I decided to post this here for now and see how I feel about it and maybe then I’ll post it in AO3 too. Not much else to say other than this one is 750 words and that I am bit rusty. Along with still being a bit nervous to post this, y’all know why.

Enjoy this little baby and probably the last time I’ll ever have to write something like this. Thanks Hypergryph for Specter Alter, you made this Iberian girl very happy with her release.

---

Specter was awake, once again.

She had forgotten just how long it had been since she felt the madness slip away. How long it had been since she was able to breathe peacefully. Her mind was temporarily free of the annoying, incoherent voices that seemed to never let her rest. She was relieved, happy, and free, even if this wouldn’t last forever.

She would finally be able to spend some time with her fellow hunters after what felt like an eternity to her. She knew the clock was ticking and that she would be back in her bed any minute now, but time was the least of her concerns. After all this time, all she wanted was their company. She enjoyed listening to Skadi talk about the "interesting things in life", things only they could understand. She enjoyed catching up with Gladiia, telling her "You should talk to me more. Come over to my side whenever you need to." She enjoyed getting lost in the endless halls of Rhodes Island, taking mental notes of her surroundings along with every word Skadi and Gladiia said out loud.

Oh, it was all music to her ears.

The music she longed to hear in the midst of the darkness.

She wanted this to last forever.

To be just like this, three Abyssal Hunters walking alongside each other in the middle of Rhodes Island’s ship. Content with each other's company with their only concern being the enjoyment of their limited time together.

Specter had to go back to sleep eventually, just as she always did. Truthfully, she didn’t want to. There were still a lot of things she wanted to do and talk about with her dear companions. She was used to the process of resisting the suffocating feeling her condition brought her and inevitably failing to maintain her sense of self despite her best efforts. Conquering it was something she wished she could do, but she had long since accepted the fact she wasn’t the same as before.

She tried her best to fight that familiar, dreadful feeling of exhaustion as it took over her body and mind. She fought until the only thing she could do was close her eyes, too drained to continue. Most days, she was alone when this happened. The only company she had was the insufferable medical equipment and the annoying voices eating away at her. However, today was different. She could feel Skadi's hand in hers, gently grasping her fingers as if to comfort her just as she did when she was asleep. Gladiia had her gloved hand on her head, slowly brushing her hair away from her face. They treated her so gently that Specter couldn’t help but feel cared for by them.

Her fellow hunters brought her a kind of joy she couldn’t quite describe.

She was safe. She wasn’t alone. She was given reassurance through their actions and thanks to that, she could rest.

Specter kept her eyes open as long as she could for them. She laughed while squeezing Skadi's hand and looking at Gladiia, giving her a reassuring nod. She looked back at Skadi and in a raspy, tired voice that only emanated peace said, "I'll be ok. We will meet again. Let's have even more fun next time." Skadi frowned, tears threatening to come out of her eyes. Gladiia's other hand found Specter’s as she watched them say their goodbyes. Specter enjoyed the feeling of her Captain’s hand resting on hers, content with the knowledge that she didn’t need to say a word for her to understand what she truly wanted to say.

Specter finally closed her eyes, a satisfied smile on her face. She felt Skadi's lips on her hand and Gladiia's fingers finally intertwining with hers. "Until we meet again. I'd better see the two of you the next time I wake up." Those were the last words she said before drifting off once again. The other two hunters silently agreed, their grip on her hands tightening as Specter's breathing slowed down. She could hear Skadi quietly sobbing as Gladiia comforted her in her own way. The familiar darkness came back as she drifted off to sleep.

She wanted to comfort them. But she couldn’t see or hear them anymore even though she truly wanted to.

She had fallen asleep again. But this time, she looked forward to waking up. The thought of her companions standing by her side when she did would be her greatest hope until then.

---

I love my babies so much. I really do. I hope this was an enjoyable read. <3

#my fics #arknights #specter #skadi #gladiia #specter arknights #skadi arknights #gladiia arknights #ah geez this is rusty but I'm trying haha

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thuganomxcs · 2 years

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1. When are you usually online? You can usually catch me on here EARLY in the AM. That’s when I get more stuff done. I’m usually here 4AM to queue some things in the drafts, I usually try to get to at the very least four replies. Then I’m off to work.

2. What verses are you involved in outside of this page? I have a multimuse blog that I’m slowly getting back into, it’s a low activity blog that I manage now. I try to get to 2 drafts on there a day after work. Huh, speaking of which I gotta check it out. I also have a Sinbad blog that haven’t seen me in QUITE a while but it will once I get that drive to roleplay him one more time. Honestly I’ve been juggling between Yakuza, Judgment and Fist of the north star that strengthens my muse for Yusuke through the roof.

3. What is your biggest RP pet peeve? When people don’t treat OCs with the same respect they would a canon muse. I get not every OC you meet is going to be somethin’ you mess with but it doesn’t change the fact that their writers are peeps just like me and you.

4. Are you drawn to specific types of muses? You know people tell me that I am drawn to characters that commits an act of genocide. I mean it’s a joke but yeah, the ones I’m usually drawn too are ironically the bad boy archetype.

5. Are there recurring themes in your writing that people might not notice? I don’t think so, what people would notice is sometimes I tend to put a spin to mundane shit through my writing.

6. What are your favorite RP trends? Oh this is something for a tumblr veteran to answer for me, I can’t really say what my favorite trends are BUT if anyone would IM me and then gimme a little bit of education then I’ll gladly re-edit this post with my answer on a later date.

7. What is your process for starting a new story with someone? There really isn’t much process, we say hey in the IMs, they post a prompt or two and I sed things in and BAM we’re writing. Though there are a few peeps that I really talk to regarding storyline especially considering Yu yu hakusho ain’t everyone’s taste.

8. How do you feel about duplicates? As a guy that loves to do multiverse stories I’d welcome a duplicate with open arms, provided they don’t jack my stuff I see no problem with it.

9. How long have you been involved in roleplaying? MAN I was still in school back then, do y’all remember Myspace and AOL? That was where I used to roleplay back in the early 2000s. I say ‘roleplay’ but I use the term extremely lightly because one my english was TRASH then, two grammar was shit too and one liners were fun.

10. Is there a muse or verse you wish you could write in, but haven’t? On here? There are probably a few but on discord I got my partners that enable me to live the dreams and I love each and every one of y’all.

tagged: @quickdeaths (thanks for tagging the boy)

tagging: @belovedblossoms , @aceparagon , @angelustm , @eternitycyber , @regnantlight , @fatexbound , @healingwords , @universestreasures , @monmuses , @acandlelitdeath , @knightshonour , @adamnedmartyr , @xkokuryuhax , @hortussecretum , @holified , @rivenheart , @erobret , steal it homies

#❛ dashgames ━━ everyone's tough talk til the hands clam up.

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finnuf · 2 years

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hi everyone! 💓 first intro because i prewrote this pog? i am so excited omg [suddenly forgets how to write an intro] uhhh...i’m so happy to meet everyone! everyone should have already gotten a message from me by now, but regardless, i’m carly, aka [drumroll] admin eirika! honestly cannot express how excited and thankful i am that you’re all here. it’s really surreal to me that uf is actually open after i’ve worked on it pretty much every day since mid may. it was originally just a fun project for me that i didn’t really think would amount to anything, and then i put so much effort in that i had to see it through SDDSGSDGSDG and it’s already been fun to run, and this is only the start! really looking forward to being y’all’s admin for a long time 💕

ALL OF THAT ASIDE, i know i know some of you already and i know there are plenty of you that are brand new to me, so depending on who you are, it’s either great to see you again or meet you. i’m pumped to talk to and plot with everyone! you don’t have to like this post to plot because i’m in everyone’s ims anyway but if u want to like this post to, idk, validate me and give me attention or something, feel free SDSDGDGGD i’m honestly best at plotting through tumblr ims these days but i’m also @YURlLECLERC on twitter so feel free to follow me there if you’d like. it’s kind of a dumpster fire of a space, fair warning SDTSDGSDG but u will get to know me quickly!!

NOW who u really need to get to know is this guy ← finnuf, also known as kim finnian. i’ll ramble about him for a while under the cut!

finn is an emo bitch baby

but he’s almost valid. almost

his dad was the margrave of etlia, in charge of maintaining etlia’s border because their territory (lucinier) was on the border with gleerium

he wasn’t an Absent Father but he was a busy father that usually had finn babysat by a knight most of the time. teaching him how to fight was a team effort and he fell in love with the sword at a pretty young age

@ufvivian is his baby sister! (not actually baby, she’s only two years younger than him)

as a kid and teenager finn was kinda a punkass but in a way that was more endearing than annoying to most people. pretty charming and social and very eager to take over for his dad

not in a powerhungry way but in a “omg i am so excited being margrave seems so cool dad let me help” way but his dad never really humored him and told him to focus on growing up well

until his dad got sick

he somehow managed to transition finn into performing his duties slowly even as his health declined more and more

finn was margrave lucinier in everything but official title when gleerium launched their full scale invasion that ultimately led to etlia falling to them

his dad died right before gleerium reached and conquered dromare meaning finn was Actually margrave for like two days before king andreas stripped everyone in etlia of their power

as the one in charge of etlia’s border at the time he thinks the fall of etlia is his fault entirely

to make matters worse there are rumors that he actually poisoned his father because he wanted his power

finn was so humiliated and felt like such a failure, instead of rallying his people and trying to defy gleerium’s rule or at the very least encourage them in a time of extreme grief, he simply: ran away

he did not tell a single soul. he didn’t leave his sister a note, he managed to escape his loyal bodyguard without notice, literally not a word to anyone

he went about as far as he could get from gleerium and went to podakko, where he figured he could be whoever he wanted to be, even though he didn’t know who he wanted to be. not margrave lucinier, that’s for sure.

he’s been in podakko now for about a year and doesn’t talk about his past; he prefers to just go by finn.

he spends most of his time drinking and getting in fights now. he mostly fights for money in arena battles, but sometimes he will fight for free just for fun.

getting beat up feels thrilling, apparently. probably has something to do with him feeling like he deserves punishment or something. he needs therapy (too bad.)

he’s also a mercenary that takes just about any job, so he travels around the continent a lot on jobs, which means he can run into all sorts of people.

despite all of this he’s honestly not a bad guy. he has a really kind heart that he now has under lock and key because he’s experienced so much pain in the past year. sometimes he’s sarcastic and acts full of himself but a lot of times he’s sincere and just Sad. he tries to still be charming tho. we’ll see how he does with that as i write him LMAO

i always imagined he has lots of healer friends since he gets beat up so much. thanks to warp pads he can probably get to u no matter where u are!

also worth noting that he hates gleerium. he has some wistful plan in his head about going back to gleerium and killing everyone responsible for the fall of etlia but he hasn’t worked out how to do it yet

he’s stupid but thankfully not stupid enough to assassinate anyone without some kind of plan. not yet anyway

this is all i can think of for now, which i’m sure is plenty SDSDGSDG thank u for reading and i’m very excited to plot with everyone <3

EDIT: he was also a student at lotus academy until his dad started getting sick, so he probably bailed about two years ago, just around when he started adult classes. he wasn’t mad about it, especially because as he got older the gleerium kids really started pissing him off

#uf:intro #{ – ooc – }

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killerandhealerqueen · 2 years

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Tag Game: Reveal Your Blogging Style

Tagged by @gabrielokun (Thank you!)

different blogs for different interests OR all-in-one blog

All or nothing, baby (also I just don’t have time to create another blog, it’s all fandom anyways)

default theme OR custom theme

one username till death OR change username according to mood/obsession

I’ve only changed my username maybe once or twice, but now that I have this one, I’m not fucking changing it

round avatar OR square avatar

Square just looks better, at least with the icons that I use

personal avatar OR fandom related avatar

It’s always going to be fandom. Forever and always

thematic consistency between header image and avatar OR who gives a fuck

I like them to be from the same fandom, preferably

reblog without tags OR reblog with tags

Depends. Most times I try to do both

category tags only OR personal commentary in tags

Both. Most times I will do personal commentary, especially if I’m passionate about a gifset

like+reblog OR only reblog

Most times it’s like and reblog, sometimes it’s just reblog

replies allowed on posts OR replies switched off

I like talking to people in my replies but on god if you’re rude, you’re getting blocked or deleted

askbox open OR askbox closed

Always open (unless grad school gets busy and I need to focus but even then, I can’t keep it closed for more than like a day)

anons allowed OR anons blocked

Anons are allowed, unless you’re gonna be a little shit. But most times, those asks just get deleted

respond to every mention in replies OR be a hermit

I do my best to respond

a quiet observer and enjoyer OR initiate conversation with an unknown blogger

I like to get to know people

send ask OR send message on chat OR converse with people in replies

All of the above

blog from computer/laptop OR blog from phone

I mainly blog from my laptop but I scroll through tumblr and sometimes reblog at night on my phone

personal posts OR fandom posts only

I do both

have a well organised filled queue OR post intermittently and make it everybody else's problem OR post daily like it's a 9 to 5

We post daily, y’all (also I just don’t see the point of a queue function if I’m on tumblr all the time)

likes and following displayed on blog OR likes and following hidden

Tagging: @kpopfantasywriter @fourth-quartet @jungwons-crayola @eyesof-kkomi @hils79 @humanlighthouse @nineninepetals @marulo @marutmm @psychic-waffles @evil-moonlight @pi-erd @mkayswritings and anyone else who wants to play

#tag game

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commanderquinn · 10 months

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Good Space Chapter 1: Flower

! i dont! keep these posts! updated! like i do! ao3!

that means you're going to find typos and shit (and possibly minor detail changes) that don't match the ao3 version! that's because im not going to bother fixing the tumblr posts until i finish good space as a whole. im only uploading them here as a backup tbh

—

master list / ao3 chapter link

—

She’s the one good thing about trips to medical in the Avenger’s Tower.

Every other day, at her direct insistence, her lab is the only place in the entire wing that he’s willing to go to. It smells warm and safe, nothing like the antiseptic that makes him want to break a limb. For the first two weeks, he tries to tell her that she doesn’t have to do this. He’s been looking after the link from his arm to his brain for years. There’s never been a problem with it that he couldn’t handle, and he’ll come back if anything ever feels off. No matter how much Steve hovers, she doesn’t need to waste her time on this.

By the start of the third week, he can’t bring himself to suggest that anymore.

—

psa: there’s some gross ass (sometimes detailed) nazi medical shit all through this fic, so if lobotomy talk of any kind is a no for you, skim over any brain talk. your best bet is just to skip the lab scenes where you can ❤️

fic title is a song by skrillex! we needed bouncy shit that vague hinted at plot. the chapter title is a moby song to lay out the v i b e s 👾 im always going to list these, so y’all have a song to listen to while reading

all i can think that needs to be said for canon clarity (ill make it all clear over time dw) is post-WS buckaroo got picked up by steve and sam to be taken for a shower and therapy. no civil war, no age of ultron. we're taking parts of it and doing other shit, you'll see. fury’s publicly alive and director again, shield got flushed out because mmmmm i said so i guess. no red room here. its not about nat, the lack of consent history hanging between them isnt something i want with this. i want to focus on other parts of their trauma bond. alsomaybeishipnatwithsomeoneinthis.

im sorry, but i never started wanda content on my end, and AI jarvis is comfy nostalgia i want to play in, so likely not a lot for her here. yes, we will be having shuri bully bucky, ofc, she’s the pin that holds this whole plot together (what else is new)

oh and i treat bucky’s arm as more of an atompunk feel rather than “the nazi’s had bleeding edge limb tech in ww2 that only affects bucky’s arm, definitely not anything else”

other than that, we’re firmly in good ‘ol stark tech magic and too many open wiki pages for all my plot device needs

also my grammar aint the good. i write these mf's in my spare time while baked af, you're gonna have to give a bitch a break babes 👾

—

Febuary 17th, 2018

"That's not what I'm asking about."

Tony throws up his hands from the other side of the conference table, then lets them smack back down against the polished surface dramatically. "Illuminate me then, Rogers. I'm running out of ways to explain that she's the best I've got to offer for this."

Steve pushes a hand through his hair with a frustrated huff. "I'm not a brain surgeon."

"No shit, that's what she's here for."

"I meant that I don't know what the fuck I'm looking at."

"Now I know you're worried if you're willing to," Tony clutches at the front of his shirt in mock horror, "swear in public." Pepper smacks his shoulder without even looking up from her tablet. The sight would make Steve smile under normal circumstances.

"You can hand me any resume you want, Tony. I'm telling you that I won't be able to see a difference. I know you're giving me a team who can do the work; I'm asking if they can do it while it's Bucky."

"Are you worried about his safety or theirs?" Pepper asks, finally looking over. Her tone isn't judgemental. If anything, it's veering towards the gentleness it has when she's talking Tony down.

"I'm not worried about theirs. I will be there every time. Even if he has a bad day, I'll make sure that—look. Nothing's going to happen. It's just...." Steve flips open the folder he's been carrying for a week. The edges of it are starting to wear down at this point. Sighing, he slides his summary notes to their side of the table. "He still doesn't... he doesn't talk about the previous escapes. No matter what his therapist tries. He just can't bring himself to do it. But it's not hard to get a clear picture of what used to happen. He does this every time. He builds himself a strong house, then a fallback point, and then he goes to work trying to fix all the damage alone, which he'll never be able to do. No one could. And there's not going to be a goon squad rolling in to drag him back anymore, so he's just going to—"

"Yeah, yeah, push him to help him; I grasped the concept the first hundred times," Tony cuts in. If he weren't so damn anxious, Steve might honestly feel bad about being so far up everyone's ass over this. "You've got me on board. So, what's the concern here? Will she quit the first time he bites her head off? That's a pretty chauvinist perspective, especially coming from you."

"She's had to put up with Tony long enough to befriend him; that should be proof enough." Pepper smiles as the nightmare himself points toward her in silent agreement.

Steve raises his hands amicably. "I'm not trying to insult anyone's professionalism. I'm sure she's had more than her fair share of problem patients to get where she is today. I'm... I'm more asking if—Christ. I'm sorry in advance, alright? But... Tony, I need you to look me in the eye and tell me that you'd have trusted her to get you home."

A stiff, all-consuming silence falls over the spare meeting room. Pepper and Steve waiting on bated breath; Tony frozen as he looks back at him with an expressionless face.

Steve despises himself for doing this to him. The knowledge of what happened in that cave is something the man is unimaginably protective over. It took years—and a night of blackout drinking on Tony's end—for the story to even slip out of him. Talking about Yinsen is the only time Steve's seen him cry that he can remember. It was just one overflow, barely even two tears that got scrubbed off his cheeks within the first minute, but it was there. It's the only way Steve knows to get his point across.

Tony looks down at the table and adjusts his posture. His head shifts and his lips purse in that signature move of his, the one that comes up when he's forced to be a person. With feelings. Pepper's arm moves, no doubt taking his hand under the table.

He looks back up, meeting Steve's eyes as his posture relaxes. "I wish they could have met. I think Yin would have gotten a kick out of her fashion taste. I think she'd have gotten an even bigger one out of putting him in it."

It's the most ringing endorsement he's ever heard the man give. More importantly, Steve knows just how much weight sits behind the guarded words.

—

"I've got their personnel files if you want them. They all volunteered them to you willingly."

"I'm alright."

"Do you want their names ahead of time?"

"No."

"Not even their first ones?"

"They can tell them to me."

"Okay."

"...."

"...What are they?"

"The ones that'll be behind the glass are Hannah and Wyatt." Of course Steve knows to start there, where his nerves will fixate the most. Asshole. "You probably won't even talk to the two of them today, but your main doctor for this will definitely offer to let you. Her name is Ava. She's going to check in with you for confirmation on a lot of things before she does them. I shadowed her for over a week, asshole. It's not about you; she does it for everyone."

Bucky grunts. "I wouldn't have jumped on her for it."

"No, you'd have sat there brooding like a petulant jackass instead, probably making her feel bad." Steve pauses for a long moment, fiddling with the paper coffee cup in his hands. "You should read Hannah's file, Buck."

"Why?" He shouldn't ask. He can hear the motive sitting in his best friend's voice. It's a fucking trap, and he fucking knows it, but he also can't stop himself.

"Her last name is Schuster."

He absolutely despises the way the situation makes his gut clench. They're dead. They're all dead, and the ones in their place have been declawed for much longer than he's been off ice. He's probably not even going to talk to the woman, at least not today. He might catch the sight of a name on a coat, however. Or on a chart.

He wanted to do this without letting old habits in. He wanted to at least start this feeling like a person, not a weapon. But he gets why the dickhead is trying to baby-step him into it.

Bucky holds out his hand. Steve silently passes him the tablet he keeps. Neither of them says a word as he reads the SHEILD file to himself, line by line. Taking in a stranger's entire professional life. Her family, her known associates, every residence she's ever held. It takes a moment of hovering his finger over the subfolder with her medical records to talk himself down from opening it. Nothing is lingering in those shadows; Steve wouldn't allow it. That's not a line he needs to cross anymore.

He hands it back when he's done. "The other two?"

"Nothing I could think of. Ava's seen your hard limit list—you remember I told you I was gonna give it to one of your—?"

"I remember. It's okay. That's why you have it."

"Yeah." Steve takes another long pause. "You remember that she knows—"

"I know."

"Good. The others don't. She says they don't need to for any of it, and it's never going on record again." He looks over out of the corner of his eye. "She's going to bring it up today."

"I had a hunch."

"I just wanted to make sure it didn't surprise you."

"I know."

"Good." Steve picks up his coffee to drain the last of it in one swig. He tosses the empty cup into a trashcan by the wall a few tables over before looking back at him. He extends his now-empty hand. "Ready?"

"Not in the fucking least." Bucky raises his hand to lock with his best friends momentarily. "Let's go."

There's no wing in this tower—and he's been through all of them by now—that he dislikes more than medical. The place makes his skin feel like a thousand goddamn spiders are crawling all over him, and the smell of it, fuck. It sits in his head like a fog while it burns up the inside of his nose, making him want to break anything touching any part of him. He'd make Steve be here with him no matter what; that's a given. But the fact that there's going to be a doctor poking at him today while he's trying to power through it all makes the guy's presence non-negotiable. Bucky needs the safety net for the good of everyone in that room.

Steve doesn't try for talking to distract him, mercifully enough. There are times when it helps. Today isn't going to be one of them. He doesn't even have to bring it up for Steve to know, and the reminder that he's understood helps his nerves. It's been an incredibly long time since he had an incident. He's proud of every last one of those days. He won't be upset with himself—well. He'll try not to be upset with himself if that streak ends. But he really, really wants that day not to be today.

Bucky treats it like a mission. He's braced and ready for the antiseptic when they first get through the entrance. He doesn't flinch or huff through his nose at the invasion, not even as they make their way to the specialized divisions. He's walked these hallways before; he's walked every single one in the tower. It was the only way he could get himself to sleep during his first week here. Aside from a few trips to the emergency intake, he hasn't had to force himself back.

He's definitely never bothered with meeting the specialists themselves. It took long enough to convince himself not to memorize the names of every staff member in the tower. He doesn't need to do that anymore. That's what his therapist and the Star Spangled Spandex keep insisting, anyways.

The door Steve goes for sticks out against the sleek hallway long before they reach it. It's painted, and not just a solid color; it's covered with a garden scene done by several different hands, going by the skill variation. Bucky runs his thumb over one of the hundreds of flowers as they walk past it to feel how thick the tiny acrylic mountains are. One of the petals cracks under the light pressure of the move, making him frown. The mural's not sealed at all, despite being long dried. Not the kind of thing maintenance usually overlooks.

An absolute shock of color hits Bucky's eyes when he gets his first look at the neurosurgeon's office. The walls he can spot from this side of the entryway are lined with tie-dye hanging cloths, and the floor is covered in fluffed-up, vibrant rugs. There's not a hint of SHIELD regulation left in the architecture, with all the walls that aren't glass holding even more heavy paint globs. Some of the murals are more flowers, but a majority of them are space themed.

The stench of antiseptic fades the farther into the room Bucky goes. By the time the door shuts behind him, it's entirely replaced with the warm aroma of apples and cinnamon. A long, curved desk is off to one corner, pushed against the glass wall overlooking the city and covered in picture frames. An arrangement of chairs piled with pillows matching the rest of the decor sits in the center. Each one of them is fucking massive.

The room itself is separated in half by a thick glass wall. He can spot two doctors sitting behind an array of equipment on the other, equally decorated side behind the glass. There isn't any creative paint in there from what he can spot. If it weren't for that, he could almost forget that he's standing in a medical lab.

Almost.

"Hi there," comes a voice to his right.

The woman it belongs to almost blends in with the office once Bucky turns his head to look at her. The lab coat that comes down to her knees is a solid blue rather than tye-dye, but it's covered in stitched designs. Most of them are shaped like bees. Bucky barely stops his eyebrows from raising at the sight of the outfit underneath. Loose cloth pants hanging low on her hips, with even more bees on them, and a hand-knit top that would have been called obscene during most of the decades he woke up in. The bun she's pulled her hair into must have been done this morning; more than a few bundles are hanging down haphazardly. Bucky hasn't met a lot of brain surgeons that he knows of, but he doesn't remember any of them having glasses as thick as hers. He's pretty sure that good vision is something most of them need for the job. Not that he's nervous.

She walks over with a warm smile, already extending a hand to him. She's a short, round little thing. Barely five feet, if his guess is accurate. It always is. "I'm Dr. Ryder. You can call me Ava. I'm told you're my newest patient."

He accepts the shake with a nod and tries not to think about how sweaty his hand might feel to her. Wiping it against his pants would have been too weird. "James."

"But you prefer Bucky, right?"

"Yes, ma'am. Ava," he corrects himself quickly.

"Oooh, someone's stepped on some toes in the new century." Her smile takes on a teasing edge. "I'm originally from Canada; you won't find me taking offense. Ingrained cultural manners are a bitch to hold back."

"Careful, they're the only manners he's got," Steve warns, already heading for one of the chairs.

"Ignore him. I'm house-trained," Bucky assures her. Taking his hand back, he hikes a thumb over his shoulder, needing something to stall with. "You sure you don't want someone to give your door a few clear coats? It'd be a shame to see all that work chip off."

Ava waves dismissively. "We redo it a lot; it's a relaxation project around here. It'll look different pretty soon." She points toward the glass wall separating the two halves of the office. "I've got the rest of the team working on a project to give us some space, but I can bring them in for a minute if you'd like to meet them?"

"I'm... I'm alright for now, thanks. I can meet them—whenever."

She doesn't insist further or comment on the blatant nerves in his voice. Her hand waves at the arranged chairs as she moves to sit in one. "Take your pick of the lineup, then. Typically I'd offer to take you to the corner of the roof that we've claimed for ourselves as an alternative. But, I need to keep you in environmental controls for sanitation, at least for the initial visit."

Bucky nods a few times as he sits in the one next to Steve's. His ass sinks nearly a foot into nothing but pillows, and his spine goes rigid. "Here's fine."

He'd have said no anyways, not that he'll mention that. Too many open sight lines with his anxiety on edge. He'll be revisiting the roof before his next appointment to familiarize himself, though, that's for sure. His last trip up there was long before she was even hired. The mental image of bead strings and tye-dye throw blankets on patio furniture flits through his head. If she decorates the same way everywhere, he's guessing it won't be all that hard to find the space.

Ava pulls up a tablet from the coffee table to rest in the middle of her folded legs. He's guessing she's into yoga in her spare time. One of her eyebrows arches at them in amusement. "You know, I've never actually seen someone fill one of these before now."

"The benefits of dosed living," Steve quips, his tone a little too positive. It makes Bucky's foot start to bounce silently against the floor on instinct.

If she notices, the doctor doesn't mention it as she focuses on Bucky. "Steve tells me you prefer when doctors keep things direct with you."

Bucky shifts his eyes over to the man in question, who busies himself with one of the pillows, picking at the hanging fringe. Fucker's going to be hearing about this later, that's for damn sure.

He looks back at Ava. Time to get it over with, he encourages himself. "Yeah, if you don't mind."

"Not at all. I know Steve's already told you, but I want you to hear it from my mouth. I have The Soldier's activation memorized."

He can't stop the gut instinct to swallow over hearing the words, but he nods. "I'm okay with it."

"It's not in any of my notes; it never will be. My team understands that there is a specific trigger in place; they need to in order to do their job. But they have no indication of what it is. I'll never write the words out or speak them where they can be picked up. Steve helped me with the pronunciation and the order when he first gave me your records, but you have my word that I won't be repeating them."

"You should," Bucky insists immediately. "If anything happens, you should, and you shouldn't hesitate about it."

"She knows, Buck," Steve assures him with a murmur. "I took her through the worst case drill. She's got a panic button on her."

"Steve tells me that my reaction time is fast enough for working on your case safely." Ava's head tilts to the side slightly. "Your comfort is the priority here. We can always run through a silent drill together if you'd like the reassurance."

He thinks about it. Honest to god, he lets himself sit in the idea of putting Steve's training to the test for more than a few moments. Neither of them push him for an answer. "I might take you up on that at some point."

She nods, the hair hanging closest to her face bouncing slightly. "Whenever you want. That offer is permanent. I'm taking this case on because I want to help undo what's been done; I'm not here to let it be continued, not even in research." Her eyes shift to Steve, with a bitter defiance building in them. "I trust that'll be clarified to the director if our work here ever reaches his ears, captain."

Steve nods, finally looking up from where he's moved on to picking at the pillow's stitches. "There's no more mud in that water. Fury understands how far over the line we went."

Ava doesn't look convinced in the least. Bucky doesn't blame her, not with the scattered memories of his role in all of it sitting in his head. When she looks back at him, the distrust leaves her eyes. "I'd like to get a better idea of what we'll be working with. I know that's probably going to be one of the most difficult parts of this, so we can try to get through it now if you'd like. Or we can wait until you're feeling more comfortable. It's entirely up to you."

Shifting slightly to straighten out his shoulders, Bucky nods. "I'm ready now."

It's an outright lie, but that doesn't really matter anymore. There's never going to be a time when he is ready. He still needs to do this.

"I'm going to need to adjust your head a few times today," she tells him with a relaxed, melodic tone as she stands up. She lifts a black briefcase from the coffee table and brings it over to rest on the arm of his chair, where he can easily see it being handled. "Is there anywhere you'd prefer me putting my hands? Or anywhere specific you want me to avoid?"

Bucky sees Steve shift his head slightly in his peripheral and wants to roll his eyes. Asshole. He'd have made a joke at the most; he wouldn't have been insulted. Probably. "I can't think of anywhere to steer you away from. You're good to do whatever you need to do."

She doesn't take him into the other section of the room like he thought she would. She doesn't even make him stand back up. All it takes to get the nightmare he's been dreading for years started is Ava pulling a wired, plastic wreath from the briefcase to put over the top of his head. She doesn't push a cold faceplate over his eye and against his temples; no bite guard gets shoved in his mouth. There's no frigid metal probing into the top of his neck to make his teeth buzz until he wants to rip them out of his jaw. The air around him isn't humid and suffocating like it was in that bunker. He can't hear the hum of electric coils or the squeak of leather boots on linoleum.

He's not in Siberia. He's in New York. This isn't a HYDRA agent strapping him down. This is a hippie, who definitely smoked pot this morning, putting a sensor on his head that barely has any weight.

"Here, hold this for me," she tells him from behind his chair, offering her tablet over his shoulder. He takes it silently, bringing it to rest in both hands. A digital scan of his brain is already being mapped out on the screen. It's the first time he's seen the anchor that wraps around his brainstem since the X-rays HYDRA used to leave up like trophies. "We can get a look at this thing together."

Bucky takes a deep breath in. It's… not a pretty sight. Whatever they put in him isn't registering in the bright blue lights of the rest of his brain. They're all dark spots, primarily lines branching out from the anchor that might as well be a black hole.

"You see that?" Ava leans forward to run her nail up the path of one of the lines. It starts at the anchor, and it's attached to another point further up, but that junction is the source of even more lines that go all over. There's a fucking mechanical spider web in his brain. "That's your motor cortex, and those links are tethered to your arm, starting there. That—the one right there—is what's making your cybernetics work."

"What's the rest of it?" There's a fucking lot of it, whatever it is. A lot more than he remembers being put in.

"Considering the intent of the Nazis that had you, the end goal was probably total control." Her finger moves, tapping several things that look way too fucking important as she keeps talking. "All of those there are connected to your essential functions: breathing, heart rate, consciousness. From there, they branched out into trying for control over your limbs. Jesus." She leans further over his shoulder and pinches at the screen to zoom in. "It looks like they were already building into your entire cognitive process."

"What does that mean?" Steve asks, worry rising in his tone.

"It means they were reckless on top of being cruel. And fucking stupid—pardon my French."

"You're talking to soldiers, doc," Bucky reminds her quietly, his brows drawn in as his eyes trace the black spots in his grey matter.

"Right. In that case, fuck every last one of them and the horses they rode... into whichever circle of hell they're burning in, I guess." Bucky's lips twitch slightly as she zooms back out. "They were venturing into parts of the brain that haven't been studied enough for human testing, even by today's standards. Blindly poking just to see what worked; my guess is because they knew that you could survive it. You see that big scary thing under your hippocampus?"

Bucky nods as she taps at the anchor. "Yeah. Yeah, that was… that was the first part. That got put in, I mean." He clears his throat when it starts to scratch. "I'm. I'm pretty sure it was the first part."

"Do you want to know why you don't feel sure?" she asks gently. Her voice has dropped to something much softer. It makes him sit back in the overly comfortable chair incrementally.

"Yeah," he tells her quietly, honestly. He wouldn't have a year ago.

Ava circles her finger around the center of his brain, where one of the more prominent lines from the anchor holds several thinner, black branches. "That's your limbic system. It controls emotion, memory, behavioral habits, that kind of thing. They fried it at some point trying to get to your memories, I assume. My team has the photograph from your HYDRA file, the one with the X-ray from your initial brain surgery. I've studied it with my own eyes. That serum in your bloodstream is the only thing that brought you back from being a vegetable. The salvaged notes from the initial facility they kept you in mention months of unresponsiveness and varying levels of brain activity.

"There's a reason you can't remember who you were then, Bucky. They wiped you clean because they knew you, out of all their test subjects, could recover from it. There wasn't enough left of your mind to hold memories, much less any kind of higher will." He hears her clothes shuffle behind him and sees Steve turn his head to look back at her from the corner of his eye. "I'm more than willing to testify to that in any court on Earth, captain. So we're clear."

"Understood," Steve replies, his voice thick. "I appreciate that."

Fuck, so does Bucky. Too bad he can't get his throat to open back up at the moment.

"Now, let's talk about the hard part." He hears Ava sigh. "From what I can see, there's no way we can remove any of this. Not by any standard that I'm willing to entertain, at least."

Bucky shakes his head and tries clearing his throat again. It doesn't feel anywhere near as successful this time around. "That's fine. I don't—I don't think I'd… I wouldn't be ready for that. I just want to know it's not…."

"Capable of being controlled remotely?" she offers when he trails off.

"Yeah. Aside from the code. I don't—that's not a problem. They're dead. Anyone else that had it, I mean." Christ, his foot's going to bounce straight out of his boot, right through the leather.

"I can't make any kind of assurances at this stage when it comes to that. But you have my word that it will be my team's primary focus." Her hand pulls back, and he feels four of her fingertips lightly rest on his shoulder. "I'd prefer to check that connection point they left over your spinal cord before you leave today, but the rest of what we need for diagnostics can wait until another time."

Bucky pulls in a heavy breath through his nose. "Yeah. I'm ready to do that."

"I need to get a few things for it and check in with my team." She taps at the side of the wreath lightly. "You don't have to keep looking at the scan, but you should leave this on while I'm gone so we can get some basic readings."

"You're the boss, doc." He tries not to make it look like he's in a hurry to get the thing out of his hand when he dumps the tablet on his leg.

"I'll be back in just a bit," she tells them, calmly shuffling off into the other half of the office. The glass door hisses loudly as she goes through it, confirming it's a sterile lab. The wall frosts over shortly after with the privacy screen activating.

Neither of them says a word for the first few minutes.

"Well," Steve finally offers up, his voice still as thick as when he thanked the doctor. "There's the confirmation you've been waiting for."

"That's not what that was—"

"Alright, you know what? Fuck you very much, Buck—"

"Fuck me? Fuck me? Yeah, I guess that's how it works now, what with you making alll the fucking calls—"

Steve's finger comes sailing into his face. "This affects more than just—" He stops with a short, muted groan and yanks his hand back to shove through his hair. After a moment, he lets it fall to his thigh in a clenched fist. "You want to sit here blaming yourself for it all, fine. I've got no right to tell you to stop when I'm still doing the exact same thing. But I'm pulling you through this whether," his voice goes high and mocking as he turns to glare a hole into the side of Bucky's head, "yooou like it or not. I let you fall once; I'm not fucking doing it again, asshole."

Bucky stares down a lava lamp sitting on the coffee table for a long, silent moment, his face pinched. He counts the number of wiggling blobs floating from the top to the bottom. He takes in their shared color and picks as close to a stupid paint name for it as possible. One by one, his photographic memory goes down the list of stupid colors from that stupid swatch wall at the stupid art supply store that Steve takes him to when he can't sleep at three in fucking the morning. He decides on fuchsia because it sounds extra stupid. There're twelve in total, they're fuchsia, and his best friend is as stupid as the name of their color.

The anger eventually eases up. "You're the asshole."

Steve sits back in his chair with a sigh. "Love you, too."

It takes a long minute of grinding his teeth for Bucky to force out the question that won't stop echoing in his head. "She doesn't know about the others?"

"She knows there were other attempts, but no, I didn't tell her any of them were successful. I left my notes in her file on what's been held back from her, along with the things she knows that her team doesn't. You can tell her whatever you want; that's up to you. I really think you should read through all of their files."

"Yeah?" Bucky snaps mockingly. "I really think you should kiss my ass."

Steve reaches out to grab one of the magazines from a stack on the coffee table. His posture is resigned and absolutely screaming I know better than you right now, idiot. "You should grow the fuck up."

—

There's no way the notes from HYDRA cover all his surgeries, not with this much framework built up inside his brain.

Steve warned her to expect something like this. The bastards passed Bucky around like a science experiment over the decades. Whenever a station was compromised, all of its records were destroyed to safeguard HYDRA's critical secrets, the work and confirmed existence of the Winter Soldier being one of them. Only a handful were raided by SHEILD efficiently enough to prevent further loss of his medical history. What remains is the scattered works of solitary minds spanned across decades.

In Ava's opinion, not one of those minds should have been granted the mercy of seeing daylight again after their senseless, abhorrent, despicable crimes against the sergeant. Never in her life has she been a violent woman, but given a blunt object and five minutes with the lot of them, she'd have been very tempted to rebalance nature with ruthless gusto.

A hand nudges at her arm, pulling her from her distraction with a quick inhale. "Sorry, repeat that?"

Wyatt's eyebrows pull in sympathetically. "Y'can hand this part off to one of us, boss."

"You can hand it off to him," Hannah interrupts briskly, her eyes never moving from where they're pressed against a microscope.

"Y'can hand it off to me," Wyatt rapidly corrects with a warm smile. He drums his stylus against his arm and leans against the lab's center console. The movable hologram program Tony gifted them is already building detail into one of the darkest acts in human history. Right there, in front of one of the most gentle souls Ava's ever met. The contrast makes her stomach drop. "I mean it; y'know me, I got a real sweet touch. Betch'a the sergeant wouldn't even know I'd been there til it was over."

"Don't make me say it, Combs." Hannah almost sounds bored. The former marine is in a good mood today.

Wyatt doesn't even bother with throwing a quip back at her. He's usually wise enough to know when he's in a losing battle. Reaching out, he gives Ava's shoulder a supportive bump. "You said so yourself; he's alright with meetin' us."

Ava shakes her head, bringing her hand up to rub at the bridge of her nose. Her eyes are stinging hard enough to make them water. She shouldn't have pulled an all-nighter before this; it definitely isn't helping her frustration. "He's okay with it; that doesn't mean he's ready for it. You should see the way he's practically vibrating in that chair. There's not one part of this he isn't forcing himself through. I want to try to limit contact until he feels like he's in control of the space around him."

"That won't take long," Hannah comments quietly, reaching for another slide. "There are certain habits infiltrators don't lose."

"Speakin' from your own experience on that one?" Wyatt asks, curiosity creeping into his tone. Their eternal beacon of southern sunshine has yet to give up chasing details about her, unlike everyone else who visits their little medical corner.

"Infiltrator is not the classification I would have given myself. I was never very subtle in my old line of work."

"Yeah, 'cause subtle's definitely the word I'd pick for your blunt ass now." Wyatt rolls his eyes and extends his hand to rapidly spin the projection of Bucky's brain with the flick of a stubby finger. "Either'a you looked at these trenches much yet? There's different cablin' in every major section. None of it's got a set standard, far as I can tell."

"I don't think he ever had the same doctor for more than two surgeries." Ava leans heavily against the console with a sigh, trying not to let herself venture into the mindset of a terrified soldier. She has to stay detached, or this will eat her alive before they're even halfway done. The enlarged hologram already hurts to look at in more ways than one. "Steve confirmed that HYDRA intermittently lost sections of his records through the years. All of this could be fractured by the decades; we won't know until Paige starts getting a read on the programming behind that main port."

"How do you want us to handle data transfer?" Hannah asks.

"Let's keep this off our internal server as much as we can help it. Tony sectioned off a virtual instance that we can burn when needed, but the only time you should be using that is for his scans. Put everything else on an isolated hard copy here in the lab, wherever you can do it without hindering the work. I want the equipment analysis kept as off-record as possible. I don't want this being recreated. By anyone."

"Definitely agreein' with you on that one, boss." Wyatt pokes his finger into the projection's left frontal lobe, halting its slowing spin. "I know we said extraction ain't the goal here, but I'm gonna be runnin' some sims on that when I've got the time. I don't like the idea of leavin' any'a this shit in, even if we do get it identified and nuked."

Ava nods and reaches up to give his shoulder a warm squeeze. "Let me know what initial paths you route; we can build from there. I doubt he'll be ready for any extensive work for years to come, but the least we can do is present him with some options." She takes a deep breath through her nose as she looks over the port connection on the hologram. "Alright, I'll be back after I finish his consultation."

"Good luck, boss," Wyatt encourages with a smile. "Tell the sergeant we said hi."

She waves her hand over her shoulder with a hum and braces herself to face her latest patient again.

The sergeant himself is sitting just as stiffly as he was when she left, but the captain has moved on to relaxing with a magazine in his hands. They both look up at the sound of the door opening, with a laid-back smile on Steve's face and a forced one on Bucky's. She almost wants to tell him that he doesn't have to make an attempt.

"Sorry for the wait; needed a quick check-in with the brain trust." And to not want to throw something heavy through Tony's fancy glass walls. "They wanted me to pass along their hello's. Dr. Combs, in particular, is very excited to meet you."

Bucky huffs a silent laugh through his nose as she returns to stand at the side of his chair. She doesn't try to move behind him for the moment. "Yeah, I'm sure I'm real—"

"Buck," Steve cuts in softly with a side eye in his best friend's direction.

"Fascinating?" Bucky's eyes lift to Ava's at her teasing guess, and his responding nod is sheepish. She smiles at the attempted manners. "Your case is as interesting as it is horrific, that's for sure. Lucky for you, we're a morbid bunch, so you can go for the gallows humor whenever you want." She taps at Bucky's arm with the pad of her index finger, trying to warm him up to repeat physical contact. "However, I'm pretty sure Wyatt is looking forward to asking for your autograph above everything."

The sergeant's eyebrows rocket toward his hairline. "What's he looking for? Love, The Winter Soldier?"

"Bucky." Steve doesn't even look over this time; he just drops one side of the magazine to pinch the bridge of his nose.

The sight of an exasperated Captain America sitting in her office makes Ava snort loudly. She doesn't miss the way it makes Bucky's lips raise at the corners. "He comes from a long line of history buffs who believe accurate preservation is the best tool to prevent it from repeating. The guy grew up with battle models and field testimonials from every major war. I'm guessing he had some Howling Commando envy as a kid, though he won't own up to that on his end."

"He knows I was one of them for all of five minutes, right?"

"None of us were Howlies for long," Steve forcefully insists, one foot coming over to kick Buckys. "But that doesn't change the good we did while we were."

"It also won't stop him from chewing your ear off about it if you let him." Ava crosses her arms over her chest in amusement. "My advice is to stop him early. Definitely before he starts asking what you remember about the maps. You've got a real Milo Thatch working on your brain now." Bucky looks up at her in confusion. "Haven't gotten around to Disney movies yet? Milo's a character from Atlantis, one of my personal favorites. He and Wyatt share a certain level of academic excitement."

"I'll add it to the watch list." A small smile comes up, making her wonder what his cheeks look like when he really lets it go. "And keep the point of no return in mind."

She stops herself from gushing about the beauty of the art behind the movie, wanting to honor his headfirst approach. "You ready to get the last part of today's visit over with?"

His shoulders rise with another resigned intake, making her want to be ferociously violent toward the closest available Nazi. "I'm ready when you are, doc."

"My go-to hardware specialist built a prototype connector based on the scans Tony got during your initial intake. It's only the first iteration for the sake of data extraction, so be sure to speak up if anything feels off. Anything at all, even if it's just minor discomfort. She can work on changing it for the next build. I'm sure Steve can attest to Paige's efficiency at her job by now."

The slightest hint of a blush comes over the captain's cheeks at the teasing mention of his numerous visits to the engineering department. "Ms. Findley—"

"Does she ask you to call her that?" Bucky jumps on his best friend with immediately. Ava would feel bad about chumming the waters, but the banter is making him relax against the chair.

Steve shuts his mouth momentarily. The blush gets a shade darker before he opens it again. "Paige is a very dedicated worker. And a lovely conversationalist. How do you two know each other? Through Tony?"

Now Ava really does feel bad. She puts a hand on her hip and tries to keep her smile from growing. "No, I'm the one who introduced them. She's been my best friend for about fifteen years now."

Steve freezes, and Bucky's grin takes over the lower half of his face. The sergeant sits all the way back, with shoulders that are perfectly at ease. "Oh, good. If I think of anything later, I can just have Stevie drop it off for me. I'd hate to forget between appointments."

Ava pulls the wireless reader and its port connector from the briefcase on Bucky's chair. She steps up behind him and tries not to let her eyes linger on how his smile lights up his face or how it warms her chest to see. Her free hand comes to rest on his left shoulder, leaving the exit door in his right peripherals. "This shouldn't take more than a few minutes at most. Ready?"

"Hit me." It almost doesn't sound forced.

She lifts his hair and runs her thumb over the port once to brace him for the new sensations before lining up the connector. As she'd explicitly requested of Paige, the mechanism doesn't snap into place when she locks it in, meaning there's no responding vibration to move through his skull. The notes from Bucky's therapist that were passed along didn't mention it, but they hardly mention anything at all. There's a lot he's holding back, there has to be, and she's been trying to preempt as much of it as she can.

Bucky's nails dig into the arm of the chair, and he inhales sharply. After a moment, his fingers start to relax one by one. Ava watches them all, her eyes moving between his hands and neck repeatedly, while the reader begins its data harvest. She gives him long enough to get a few steady breaths in.

"Have you started any animated movie binges?" she prods, wanting to stall for time to get a closer look at his implant. With him letting her hold up his hair like this, it might be her only chance for the foreseeable future.

"Sam's gotten me to sit through a few of his picks," he replies tensely.

"Mmm. I'm guessing Mister Feathers is a Pixar fan."

"I know that's an animation studio, but that's the extent of my expertise on the subject. Are they the ones who made Lilo and Stitch?"

"He did not make you watch that one first."

"He did, but that's technically not my first animated movie. We had them back in the 30s, you know."

"Some of us still call it animation's golden age," Steve mutters in the most crotchety old artist fashion, his eyes back on the magazine in his lap.

"Take a look around this room, Rogers," Ava sasses. "Do I look like someone who'd argue with you about its significance?"

"Point taken."

Her eyebrows pull in while she looks over just how much of Bucky's spinal cord is exposed to outside influence. She knows how far the port runs thanks to the scans, but now she's getting an eyeful of movable hatching and flesh that will never get the proper chance to heal.

"How are you handling the daily care of this?" she asks, running her finger around one edge of the port.

"I do it," Bucky tells her simply.

Her eyes lock on the back of his head in disbelief. "You do… what, exactly?"

"I've got a morning routine for it. Clear the excess buildup, sterilize the whole area, work the skin, that kind of thing."

"You understand that this has direct access to your brainstem, right?"

"I know." He shifts his weight in the chair. "I'm careful."

"I have several medical degrees, one of which is entirely focused on the human brain, and even I would hesitate to approach this on my own body. If anything that can give you so much as a hundred-degree fever touches this, you're dead, Bucky." She lets the hand not holding up his hair come to rest on his shoulder. "I'm not trying to scare you with this, but as your doctor, I need to make sure you understand the severity here. I don't want you doing this yourself anymore; I want you to come to my office for it."

"That's not necessary—"

"What time do you want him here in the mornings?" Steve asks, ignoring Bucky entirely.

"I don't need to come here in the mornings—"

"It doesn't have to be every morning," Ava offers, wanting to give him a compromise. She's definitely not letting him go back to doing it himself. "I can set up a stable cleaning routine every other day whenever you have the time to come in."

"I have it handled, really—"

"I wouldn't push it past three days, though."

"Every other morning," Steve agrees. "That's perfect. JARVIS can keep an eye on the schedules for him."

"I've got working fucking eyeballs," Bucky almost shouts, making Ava and Steve finally let up.

She squeezes her hand on his shoulder, half in apology, half in sympathy. "Yes, you do. But they happen to be in the front of your head. My eyes can see the back of your neck without a mirror, and they've got a decade's worth of disgustingly thorough medical training behind them. You came here because you're ready for this to get done. Now you actually have to let me do it."

Bucky lifts a hand as if he's about to argue but then lowers it with a soft sigh. "Yeah... yeah, alright. But I'm not always going to be here in the mornings—"

"She said it doesn't have to be the mornings," Steve cuts in again.

"You know what I mean, jackass. I'm not always going to be here consistently. I have, you know, a job that you try to boss me around on—"

"We can make sure you've got a trained medic to help—"

"No, Grant."

The words are said softly, and it takes a moment for Ava to even remember that it's the captain's middle name, but something happens in the wake of them. Steve's relentless push stops on a dime, and the fight leaves Bucky's shoulders. The two of them relax marginally, and Steve nods once. "Okay. So, we establish the routine here. Get it ironed out; get you practiced with it. Then I'll clear you for doing it yourself on missions. But if you miss even one while you're here, so help me—"

"I got it, I got it."

Steve watches Bucky with a tightly held expression for another long moment. Then he looks up at Ava with a nod. "He'll be here, and I'll make sure he's not cleared for another mission until you two have a stable routine for taking care of this."

Ava gives Bucky's shoulder another light squeeze. "I promise it'll be quick every time. I'll work with Paige on making you a field kit. In the long run, this shouldn't interrupt your normal day-to-day much at all."

"Appreciate the effort, doc." Bucky gives a soft grunt. "Sorry for the. Y'know. Pushback."

"I think the world owes you a little more than patience as backpay, Sergeant. I'm happy to help where I can."

—

Febuary 19th 2018

"I can handle it if you want me to."

"No. No, I... I can do it."

"You're sure?"

"You think I can't?"

"I think you look like you're about to throw up on my shoes."

"I don't like the idea of... starting off like that."

"That's why I'm offering to do it."

"No. It should be me. There are things you won't be able to explain."

"You can always fill in the blanks when she shows up for Soldat training."

"What a great alternative first impression! Hello, ma'am, not only am I a complete jackass, but I also delegate my role as—"

"You're not delegating; you're assigning the right person to the job. And this takes away the need for you to be a jackass."

"Leaving you to be a confrontational bitch in someone's eyes?"

"What's the issue there?"

"That's not what you are, Nat."

"Says who?"

Steve reaches out to smack the side of her arm. "That's one of my closest friends you're ragging on."

"She can take it." Natasha looks over at him, a bored hike to one brow. "Let's stay focused on what the doctor can take. This won't be like the therapists. We can't put him through multiple doctors on this. We'll only get one or two tries before he draws the hard limit."

He nods, turning his eyes back to the closed elevator doors. "Right. Right, it's for a good reason. I can do it."

"You don't have to. I can handle it."

"I know. But it should be me." He knocks the side of his boot against hers. "Thank you."

"Always. Let me know how it goes."

Natasha's off the elevator before the doors are even finished opening, leaving Steve to collect himself alone. He pushes off the back railing with a heavy sigh. No part of this is going to be easy to stomach. He's accepted that. He exits the elevator with a resigned set to his shoulders.

The medical wing is dark this late into the day. JARVIS already confirmed that the doctor is still in the building. From the AI's reports, she pulls late nights like this regularly. It bodes well for what he'll have to ask of her and her team.

He stops to admire the heavy paint on the outside of the lab's door. There's days worth of work here, clearly a labor of love. It takes until he's admiring the fourth flower of his perusal to notice that it's not all the same artist. He scans it a bit quicker after that, trying to take a guess as to how many different hands took part. His best guess is four.

Accepting that he's been inadvertently stalling, Steve pushes it open roughly. He probably should have expected the onslaught of color in the room from seeing the door. It still hits him hard enough to make him do a double-take through his exaggerated annoyance. The doctor sitting on the other side of a very large desk nearly jumps out of her chair.

"Christ Al-fucking-mighty," she swears, one hand coming up to brace against her chest. Steve gets nailed with a furious glare. "Knock much?"

Well, that's one test passed. "Are you Dr. Ryder?"

"I am. Who the hell wants to—oh." Recognition dawns on her face as Steve gets close enough to be illuminated by her desk light. The fury in her shifts toward indignance. "I happen to hold a lot of respect for you, at least during normal business hours. So, I'm going to give you the benefit of the doubt here and let you have a moment to explain yourself, captain."

He almost starts with an apology, but he catches himself in time. "I've been told you're one of the best neurosurgeons we're in contact with—"

"No, you've been told I am the best." She crosses her arms over her chest and leans back in her chair. Her head inclines toward him. "You can continue."

Steve's reservations about her being able to handle Bucky are leaving rapidly. It almost makes him smile. He holds it together with his best captain voice. "I need your expertise on a consultation. A private consultation. Completely off SHEILD books."

"Am I being roped into the organization's second overhaul?" There's bitterness lingering in her tone. The kind Steve remembers feeling on his own end for months leading up to Fury's near-assassination.

"No. When I say private, I mean private. This isn't under SHIELD purview. I'll be expecting discretion if you think you're up to the case, so we're clear."

The doctor's eyebrows sail up, and her head moves back far enough to hit her chair. "I'll be expecting you to hand over some details before I agree to a damn thing. As a follow-up, you can provide me with an explanation as to why this needed to be done an hour before midnight, with no forewarning and definitely no respect. Otherwise, you can turn your happy ass back around and go find the other neurosurgeons you didn't feel like harassing first."

Damn. He really should have gotten Natasha to do this; she's faster with proper comebacks. "You'll be given information as you need to know it. First, I need to make sure that—"

"First, you can fuck off." Her head shifts to one side as he pauses. "I don't respond well to authority, captain. I'm sure whatever's going on is very important if it's got America's Sweetheart making an ass of himself in the middle of my office on a Monday night. But that's not really my problem. It could be, were I given a reason to care about it."

"Does rectifying war crimes warrant your valuable attention, doctor?" The words feel awful leaving his mouth; she doesn't deserve to get barked at like this. But he needs an honest indication of how she'll react to a bad day.

Ava watches him with a slightly open mouth for more than a few tense moments. Then recognition dawns for a second time, and her eyes roll dramatically. "Oh, for god's sweet sake. You could have just asked if I have experience with PTSD patients. Hell, you were clearly sent by Tony, and I met the man at a veteran's benefit, so you could have asked him. Barnes' presence on the Avenger's roster isn't exactly a secret these days."

Steve holds himself still, then shifts his weight to one foot. "You met at a veteran's benefit?"

She nods slowly, with a bit of mockery behind the motion. "Yes. Almost a decade ago. He funds most of my work with the VA."

That hadn't been included in her resume. He didn't want to invade her privacy by pulling her file until she agreed to it. Steve feels heat rise to his cheeks. Then the anger starts to surface. "You know, I'm not one hundred percent sure I was supposed to know that."

"You think?" The words are bone dry, and her posture is still defensive, but there's a smile working its way up from the corners of her lips.

"Look, I...." Steve raises a hand to the back of his neck sheepishly. "I apologize. I promise it's not about doubting your professionalism—"

"It's about protecting family, yeah, I get it." Her arms don't unfold from her chest. But her eyebrows do come back down.

"He's very important to me. I want to make sure he's in good hands, that's all."

"Well?"

Steve's brows draw in. "I wasn't trying to dump the case on you right now—"

"No, idiot." Her eyes roll again, with much less aggression. "I'm asking if I passed."

"Oh." He nods, his cheeks still feeling far too hot. "With flying colors, so far. There's still a lot more to cover before we get Bucky involved, but. Yes, ma'am. I think you'll handle him just fine."

With a sigh, her arms finally lower. She extends a hand out in his direction. "Ava Ryder. It's very nice to meet you, Captain Rogers."

He takes her hand with a firm shake, inclining his head apologetically. "It's very nice to meet you, as well, doctor. You can call me Steve."

"You can call me Ava. So can James whenever I'm finally graced with his presence."

Yeah. She'll do just fine. "He prefers Bucky. And I'm sure he'll provide you with a much more agreeable first impression. All that can wait until you don't look like you're going to fall asleep on your keyboard, though.

Ava smiles warmly at him, falling back against her chair as she takes back her hand. "I'm looking forward to it. You can send me the details on the case at a reasonable hour to make up for scaring the shit out of me."

"Yes, ma'am." He tips his head respectfully, already backing up from her desk. "Sorry for the scare. And for being so disrespectful. He really is—"

"Important to you." She waves her hand dismissively before reaching up to push at her glasses. "I get it, don't worry. I'd be twice as much of a wreck in your shoes. You're doing fine."

Sometimes, on the rarest of occasions, there are benefits to having the worst moments of his life in the history books. "I appreciate that, thank you. You have a good rest of your night, ma'am. I'll send—I'll have JARVIS send you his file—"

"Captain Rogers is unaware of how to forward SHEILD files, doctor," the AI cuts in gleefully.

"I had my suspicions, JARVIS; thanks." She waves her hand again, this time in goodbye, as she looks back at her computer screen. "Please don't trip on my carpet and bust your ass on the way out of my office."

Steve pointedly turns on his heel, glad for the excuse to hide his burning face. He all but races to the door. "I'll be in contact, doc."

"Mhmm."

When he pulls open the painted door, he's almost unsurprised to find Natasha leaning against the other side of the hallway. She doesn't move at all, but one side of her mouth lifts in a smirk.

Steve lets the door shut softly behind him before cocking his head to the side. "Very cute. You two in on it together?"

"No, but sniffing out Tony's bait didn't take long. You'd have noticed, too, if you weren't so far up Bucky's ass." Her head tilts in the opposite direction as his. "Feel better?"

He straightens up with a nod. The motion feels confident. "Much."

—author's end notes, yoinked straight from ao3—

“what’s paige like?” well. to put it simply. she is every last ounce of karma that steve has earned by lovingly terrorizing his best friend 😌

i feel like the overall theme got covered enough with this to tell if the plot is for you or not. flirting starts next, but isn't super blatant until chap 4. i am in zero rush and will have no problem with dedicating an entire chap to cuddling tbh, this is a comfort project im in for the long haul. check back later for * to get full smut taste, current (possibly changing) map has it in chap 9. OR you can check back for kinktober, i have all 31 days outlined for these idiots. i need starfield to be good so i can do smut for that too, bethesda pls

keep in mind this will get sci-fi weird at times, and loosely ref/revolve around greek myth tropes bc iiiii like ‘em ❤️ im a fandom ancient who takes no issue with cleaning out the dickhead comments 😌 also i might edit shit. im still not clear on what ao3 will email about a bookmark (god willing its not edits that dont include a new chapter) but just in case i figured id warn for anyone who doesn't want email spam

im gonna try to keep ava and paige as vague as possible, aside from a few scattered physical details so i have SOMETHING to write. my favorite bucky fic in existence is a reader!fic (safe with me is Ungodly levels of good, and i dont just say that as a fellow west wing addict. i constantly forget that his apartment in it isn't actually canon and there're no m&ms hiding for eternity somewhere) so you wont get any judgment from me on replacing both of them right down to their names, that’s how im writing them!! it just feels unfair to tag it a reader fic with them being given SUCH a heavy “presence" i guess

main pov's (the undated ones) will always flip between bucky and ava. the dated ones are other characters pov's OOOOOOR its a flashback in which case it could be the two of them, but ill always try to make it clear whose headspace is focused up front, so i dont think ive set up a hurdle there

thanks for reading ❤️ i love and appreciate feedback immensely ❤️ feeds the brain chemicals 😌 no worries abt spoilers, i feel like anyone looking there knows what theyre risking lmao

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes fic #chapter update #man the way thats going to be the extend of effort i have when it comes to promoing this damn thing #truly astonishing how little fandom energy i have lmao #i sure as shit aint taggin the other ones with anything but my sorting tags lmao #i do not have the Energy #good space

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