#hand it over before i rip it out from between your lines of code

[lemedstudent2021]

where is the gtfo button on this omg

STOP IT GO AWAY *bug spray*

guys help ive removed the gemini shortcut (thank u sir) but im still getting this when i look stuff up. help :')

[biteyoubiteme]

thicc thigh obsessed gyu 😵‍💫 he loves how squishy and plush they are, touches them all the time, rests his head, inner thigh kisses and wearing pretty thigh highs and stockings has him hard and drooling

beomgyu x thighs

beomgyu x fem!reader

warnings: 🔞!!! chubby reader implied, thigh fucking, marking, prob forgot some sorry

wc: 0.6k

an: okay I want to say I love that you sent me this and it was stuck in my head forever and im just now answering it but omfg- gyu IS A THIGH LOVER I'll take it to the grave/ die on that hill bc YES. and specifically the gyu I wrote in bubblegum flavored- so if you see beomiebear mentioned here thats why bc it’s so him coded pls I love it thank you for this. [m.list]

He would so buy you thigh highs, little sets of garter belts that clip to the top of them. He loves the marks it leaves on your thighs if you’ve been lying down with them on. Likes to snap the bands to make you jump. He loves when you’re in a skirt, and loves it even more when you wear tights, he ruins every pair you’ve ever had and loves to rip them just enough to suck hickeys on your inner thigh. Will take the time to suck them Into the shape of a heart, spending as much time between your legs as possible. Gets you fishnets a size too small, still stretchy enough to feel comfortable but tight enough to let your skin dimple, the marks left after you've taken them off turning him on just as much. 

He loves it when he lays on your plush thighs and you play with his hair. Loves it more when you wear thighs highs when he does it, finger tucked under the elastic, running back and forth. Loves when you sit and it makes a little roll right where the end is, peppers kisses all along the seam. Will use his teeth to pull them down enough to kiss the indents on your skin. 

Insatiable when you casually walk in wearing anything that highlights your thighs. But it’s always the first thing he notices anyway. You could be spending dinner with all your friends and he’s got his hand shoved between your thighs under the table, not necessarily touching you but just resting his hand between your legs for the comfort. 

Gets you specific stockings to wear during sex, the lace lining on top the perfect spot for him to kiss along. The sheer gauzy fabric is just the right texture for him to run his teeth over while he looks up at you from his knees. dons so many kisses to your lower half you have to remind him your mouth exists, pushing his hair back from his eyes, “beomie if you’re good I’ll let you fuck them,” 

and he’s putty in your hands, his weakness so easily exploited when it came to you. Because he loved to push his cock between your plushy thighs. His hands holding your squishy flesh hard enough to leave red hand prints all over. 

Laying you back against the mattress and lifting your legs up, pushed together and slathered with lube, your ankles over his shoulder, arms wrapped around your knees as he pushes his cock in and out between your thighs. 

He’s a whiny mess kissing at your legs, begging for release as you squeeze your legs together for him. You watch the way the tip of cock pokes through the seam of your legs with every thrust. His hair in his eyes as he loses himself, “Oh god- you feel so perfect-“ his fingers digging in harder as he orgasm gets closer, and watching the way you look laid out before him, your body reverberating with every hash slap of him against you. 

He always cums so much when fucking your thighs, the hot streams pulsing out and coating your stomach. cock jerking as he gives lazy thrusts, his whimpers so sweet to your ears as you praise him, “You came so good for me beomiebear, if you clean me up I’ll let you go another round,” and he will comply licking you clean and burying himself between your legs to properly devour your wetness; a reward within this request itself just before he’s hard again and ready to do it all over.

taglist 🏷: @kissmekissykissme @bts-txt-ateez @apeachty @seungfl0wer @lunesdesire want to be added to the taglist? check out my rules to see how to join! want to be taken off the taglist? send an ask!

[ditsycafe]

unplanned sweetness || p.js

pairings : park jay x female!reader

genre : fluff, angst?, sugar!daddy au

warnings : no strings attached, unexpected pregnancy (wrap it before you tap it), jay coded, dominant jay, mentions of being in reader raw.

work count : 5k

summary : Jay, a wealthy and dominant businessman, enjoys the arrangement has has with his sugar baby—you. The relationship is clear-cut: luxurious gifts, expensive vacations, and a no-strings —attached agreement. But after one drunken night where the two cross a line, everything changes. A few weeks later, you realise you’re pregnant. Now, you must fact the terrifying reality of breaking the news to jay, unsure of how he’ll react. Will he abandon the arrangement, or will this unexpected twist lead to something neither of you expected?

a/n : do not in any way plagiarise, translate my work to another language or claim my work as your own

The city lights blurred past as the sleek black car pulled up infront of your apartment. You sighed, kicking off your designer heels as soon as you stepped inside. The night had been long, filled with expensive champagne, laughter, and the familiar weight of jay’s possessive hand on your lower back.

Jay was many things—rich, powerful, and dangerously charming. He was also your sugar daddy, the man who spoiled you with lavish gifts and took care of your every need, as long as you followed the unspoken rules of your arrangement.

No attachments. No emotions. No complications.

But everything had changed three weeks ago.

Your fingers trembled as you clutched the pregnancy test, the two pink lines staring back at you like a cruel joke. You swallowed hard, your mind racing with memories of that drunken night—how jay’s usually controlled demeanour had slipped, how his hands had roamed your body with more desperation than ever before. How he had whispered your name like it was the only thing keeping him tethered to reality.

And now, here you were, pregnant with his child.

Your stomach churned as you thought about telling him. Jay wasn’t the type of man to deal with unexpected surprises. He liked control. He liked things on his terms.

Would this be the end of your arrangement?

would he turn his back on you?

You took a deep breath and reached for your phone.

It was time to find out.

Your fingers hovered over Jay’s contact name, your heart pounding so hard it drowned out all rational thought.

Just do it.

Taking a deep breath, you pressed call.

It rang once. Twice.

Then his smooth, deep voice answered. “Didn’t expect to hear from you this late, sweetheart.”

You hesitated. How were you supposed to drop this bomb on him?

“Jay…” your voice wavered. “Can we talk, it’s important.”

A brief silence. Then, “Are you home?”

“Yes.”

“I’m on my way.”

The call ended before you could protest. Your stomach twisted as you stared at your reflection in the mirror. You looked pale, anxious. The complete opposite of the poised, glamorous woman jay was used to seeing.

Fifteen minutes later, the familiar purr of his car’s engine reached your ears. A knock echoed through the apartment.

When you opened the door, Jay stood there, dressed in his usual tailored suit, hands in his pockets, eyes scanning your face with a mix of concern and curiosity.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, stepping inside.

You swallowed hard. “I need to tell you something.”

Jay exuded authority and confidence, but this was the first time you’ve ever felt truly nervous into his presence.

He raised an eyebrow. “You’re shaking.”

“I..” The words caught in your throat. Just say it. Rip off the band-aid. “I’m pregnant.”

Silence.

The air between you turned heavy, suffocating. Jay’s expression didn’t change at first—his dark eyes locked onto yours, his lips pressing into a thin line as if he hadn’t fully processed your words.

Then, he let out a slow breath. “Say that again.”

“I’m pregnant,” you whispered.

Jay took a step back, taking a hand through his hair. His usual composure cracked, just for a second. “And it’s mine.” It wasn’t a question.

You nodded. “We…that night… we weren’t careful.”

His jaw tensed. “You should’ve told me sooner.”

“I just found out,” you admitted. “I didn’t know how to tell you.”

Jay exhaled sharply, pacing for a moment before stopping infront of you. “And what do you want to do about this?”

Your heart clenched. “I don’t know.”

You had expected anger. Indifference. Maybe even an offer to make this problem go away.

But instead, jay stepped closer, his fingers tilting your chin up. His voice was softer now, more serious. “I take responsibility for what’s mine.”

Your eyes widened. “You’re saying…”

“You’re carrying my child,” he muttered, his thumb brushing against your cheek. “Which means you’re not doing this alone.”

Jays words lingered in the air, thick with unspoken promises.

“You’re not doing this alone.”

You weren’t sure what you had expected—maybe cold detachment, maybe a check slid across the table to handle the situation—but not this. Not the firm resolve in his voice, the way his dark eyes held yours like he was already making plans in his head.

Your throat tightened, “what does that mean?”

“It means,” jay said slowly, as if the answer was obvious, “that you’re mine. And now, so is this baby.”

His possessiveness sent a shiver down your spine. Normally, you enjoyed it—it was part of the reason your arrangement had lasted so long. Jay wasn’t like other men. He didn’t just throw money at you and disappear. He wanted control. Over you. Over everything.

But this was different. This was real.

You took a shaky breath. “Jay, this isn’t just some business deal. This is a baby. A whole human being. You don’t just get to decide—“

“I do.” His voice was firm, unwavering. “You think I’d just walk away?”

“I don’t know,” you admitted. “We never talked about this. We never even thought this would happen.”

Jay’s gaze darkened. “That’s my fault. I was careless.” He ran a hand down his face, something almost frustrated in his expression. “I should’ve been more careful. But now that’s it’s happened, I won’t run from it.”

A lump formed in your throat. “So… what do we do?”

Jay was quiet for a long moment, his fingers tapping against his thigh as the thought. When he finally spoke, his voice was calm. Decisive.

“You’re moving in with me.”

You blinked. “What?”

“You heard me.” Jay crossed his arms, his gaze locked onto yours. “You’re not staying here alone. I want you where I can take care of you.”

Your head spun. “Jay, that’s—“

“It’s not up for debate.” His tone left no room for argument. “I won’t have you stressing over this by yourself. You’ll be taken care of. Anything you need, I’ll provide.”

You hesitated. Living with jay? That wasn’t just changing your arrangement—it was crossing a line neither of you had dared to approach before.

“Jay…” you searched his face. “Why are you doing all of this?”

His jaw clenched. “Because it’s mine.” His hand slid down to your stomach, his touch gentle, almost reverent. “And so are you.”

Your heart pounded against your ribs. “This isn’t what we agreed to.”

Jay tilted his head. “Things change.”

His fingers curled around your waist, pulling you closer. The air between you cracked with something unfamiliar. This wasn’t just sugar daddy jay speaking. This was something more. Something deeper.

And it scared you.

Because if jay was serious…

Then you were in deeper than you ever intended to be.

He had already decided. In his world, once Jay made up his mind, there was no room for argument. That was how he operated in business, and now--apparently--in your life.

Your throat felt dry. "Jay, I can't just pack up and leave--"

"Yes, you can." He stepped closer, towering over you, his scent wrapping around you like a drug. "You're carrying my child. You think I'd let you stay here alone, stressing over this?"

You swallowed. "This wasn't part of our arrangement."

Jay's lips curled into a smirk, but his eyes held something softer, something unreadable. "We passed arrangements the moment you let me have you raw."

Your face burnt a bright red. "That was--"

"A mistake?" He raised an eyebrow. "You sure about that?"

You opened your mouth, but now words came out. Was it? A mistake? It had been reckless, unplanned, but the memory of that night was still burned into your skin--the way jay had touched you like he was unravelling, the way his lips had traced every inch of you, the way he needed you.

And now...this.

A baby.

Your fingers curled into your palms. "Jay... I'm scared."

Something in his face softened. He exhaled, reaching for your hand. "I know." His grip was warm, steady. "That's why you're coming with me. You don't have to do this alone."

You searched his face, looking for cracks in his confidence. Some sign that he was panicking as much as you were. But there was none. Jay had already decided, and if there was one thing about him-- you knew he never backed down from what he claimed as his.

Still, you hesitated. "What if this changed everything?"

Jay's thumb brushed over your knuckles. "It already has."

Your breath hitched. He was right. There was no going back to what you had before.

And maybe... maybe that wasn't such a bad thing.

A long silence stretched between you. Then, finally, you whispered, "Okay."

Jay's smirk returned, but this time, there was something dangerous behind it. Satisfaction. Possession. Like he had just won.

"Good girl."

His words sent a shiver down your spine.

You had no idea what you'd just agreed to. But with jay, there was no turning back.

all rights to this work belongs to me @ditsycafe.

[queenhunter102]

Part 21

HI! I'm back now. Part 22 should follow this post later this week if not next week! Hope you like this part (It was really stressing me out since I have scrapped most of the parts that took us to part 30)

Sargent Evans laughed as he walked closer. "A little while ago, Price, when did they promote you to Captain?" he called back. Price smiled as he approached the older Alpha. "A while back, Sargent."

Sargent Evens met him halfway, smiling and holding his hand to John. John laughed as he shook the sergeant's hand. "Now, do you have a spare tent for my team?" Sargent Evans nodded, waving to the team behind John and leading them to a sizeable sand-covered Tent. "I think I have something for your boys," he said.

As the six of you head to the tent, you feel a million eyes stare into your soul or, better yet, into your skin like the first piece of meat they had seen from a cold and harsh winter. As if sensing your discomfort, Simon lightly pushes you closer to the group's centre, allowing himself to trail behind the rest.

Once the rest of the team had been shuffled into the large tent, you were met with walls of screens, varying soldiers sitting with headphones, watching lines of codes or symbols streaming across the screens. You watched the lines on the screen, your scientific brain going haywire with confusion. Johnny had nudged your shoulder when you had stalled behind a particular Soldier who had begun to take note of you and your smell.

Once you had picked up your pace again to join the rest of the team, John awaited you at the tent's exit. He held it open for you, leaning in. "Don't linger too long; we don't know this pack well enough," he whispered low, a warning to stick close by. You nodded, not wanting to stick out further than you already had.

"Everything Okay, Price?" Sargent Evans yelled, his eyes trailing between you and John. John only lifted his hand, shouting, "Aye, Sargent, just keeping my stragglers close!" You watched as Sargent Evans nodded and continued to lead the team away from the large tent to one that was big and round and certainly had seen better days.

Sargent Evans paused in front of the flaps of this tent, waiting for the rest of the team to group back together "You're lucky that the one with the accent called ahead, letting me know you were coming, or else you would be facing the sand storm on your own" he said, as You and John met with the back of the group, John only rolled his eyes "Aye, Aye Sargent are you gonna let us get in and settled or make us sweat our balls off" he said pushing to the front of the group, The Sargent only lifted a brow before holding open the flap letting the team walk past him, you had figured that it was some sort of security thing.

You yelped when your arm was grabbed, pulling you to a dead stop in front of the sergeant, whose eyes grew almost pitch black, his eyes scanning over you before flicking over to the team. "You're allowing an omega into my grounds?" he questioned as he pulled you a little closer; you growled, not liking the movement of being pulled by a ragdoll; John was quick to step in closer, his hands u.p "They're a part of our team on loan; we're not to harm a singular hair on their head," he said, as he gently tried to pry The Sargent's fingers off your arm; you had far less patience for the gentle prying as you tried ripping your arm out of his grip "You still brought one here, around my men?" He growled back, getting close and personal with John's face.

John didn't move, only stared into the Alpaha's eyes. "Leo, if you can't trust your men…" he had said, his voice trailing off, leaving the exact connotation in the air, which seemed to only piss off Evan even more "Don't disrespect my men, John; I didn't bring an unmated omega to a stranger pack grounds" he growled back, John by this point had managed to get Leo's fingers off your arm gently pulling you away from the Alpha "Leo my whole team outranks you, leave it be" John says his voice becoming lower, as you make your way to Kyle and Simon.

Kyle met you with open arms and a smile as he pulled you into the safety of him; Johnny and Simon, Leo growled, baring his teeth, which in turn forced you to bare your teeth and growl back at him, your omega not liking that some lower ranking officer was threatening it, your growled had set off a chain of other growls that reverberated from the few soldiers that had come to see what the commotion was about, John lifted his hand high into the air calling the attention of everyone.

"ALRIGHT! ALRIGHT! I know everyone is on edge, but there is no need, Leo. If you could just direct us to our corner, we'll get set up and rest," John said, his eyes fixed on the still huffy and bared Alpha; Leo snapped his jaw a little as he moved to face further into the tent; John grabbed his arm much in the same fashion Leo had grabbed yours.

"No, Leo. Tell us, and I'll guide my pack," he said, pulling Leo back to face him. If looks could kill, John would be six feet under by now. Leo grunted as he pointed and explained which part the team would stay in for now. John only nodded before guiding the team from behind, keeping a tight rein on the back of his shirt.

Once you had made it to the back of the tent, a stone's throw away from the rest of the unknown alphas, John pulled the team in for a huddle. "Now listen here. There are a lot of unknown entities here, but there are few we can trust. Am I clear?" John whispers

"Aye Cap"

"Yes, Sir"

"Always"

TAGLIST: prettykinkysoul, ghosts-hoe, spicyspicyliving, dneicjefx, cryingpages, sakunawifey, cringeycookies, ttsbaby01, caius-red04

(If you want to be a part of my tag list, check HERE for specifics)

Remember: leaving a like, re-blogging, and commenting helps in this world and encourages more.

See you around, my little loves.

Kissess.

Part 20/ Part 22

[starstruckunknown-princess]

Cornflower - Poe Dameron x Reader

Cornflower (Centaurea cyanus) - Meaning: Hope in love

Summary: Your feelings for Poe come to a head after a night of drinking.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 856

Warnings: Angst/Fluff, Alcohol use/slight drunkenness, reader has feminine qualities (wears makeup and a dress) but is otherwise not physically described, use of nicknames (sweetheart, sweetness, starshine), confession of feelings, kissing

Day 18 is for Fluffy endings! Slight angst but ends with fluff.

In Bloom Masterlist

Likes, Comments, Reblogs are ALWAYS appreciated! ❤️

“Maker above, Dameron, what will it take for you to ask me out already?” 

The cantina was mostly empty by now, and your body was buzzing with the alcohol you’d consumed. You’d gotten all dressed up, styled your hair — kriff, you’d even worn makeup in the hopes that after months and months of flirting Poe Dameron would finally ask you out. Dropping hint after hint that night had frayed your nerves and now that it was just the two of you left in the booth, you had snapped. 

Poe’s face looked like you had slapped him, perfect lips parted before setting into a firm line. He scooted back a bit, putting distance between you for the first time all night. 

He sighed, long and hard and your stomach clenched. 

“Look, sweetheart—” he started. 

“Oh, no,” you interrupted, gut falling into your shoes. “Did I misread this? All the flirting, the touches, the lingering glances — it’s all been in my head, right?” 

“No!” Poe said as your panic spiked and you looked around you, ready to bolt. “No, sweetness, it’s not all in your head.”

He put his big hands on your shoulders to keep you from running away. The haze of booze made his grip feel heavier than it actually was, the warmth radiating from his hands was insanely comforting. 

“But I…I can’t right now,” he said, tone laced with regret. 

You tilted your head at him in confusion. “Can’t what, Poe?” 

His dark eyes met yours, brow furrowing to convey the seriousness of his position, “Look, my job right now is to hop in an X-wing and blow things up and in case you hadn’t noticed, it’s not the safest of occupations.” 

You nodded gravely, knowing how many good pilots hadn’t come back. 

“So I can’t get into a relationship right now,” he said, trailing his hand down your arm and taking your hand in his. “Because I can’t be the reason someone like you falls apart in case I don’t make it back.” 

Your heart broke for him then. Suddenly, the string of one-night stands and broken hearts left in his wake made sense. All you wanted to do was wrap him in your arms and assure him that you could handle it, you wouldn’t fall apart if he didn’t come back from a mission. 

But that would be a lie. Even with him as a friend, you knew you wouldn’t recover if Poe died in the line of duty. Of course, you knew it was a risk every time he got in his X-wing but that was just a fact of life in the Resistance. You had something bigger you were fighting for. Everyone on base was prepared to die for it. 

What would it take for Poe to live for it? 

With his hand over yours on the table, his thumb absently tracing your knuckles and slowly driving you insane, you couldn’t take it anymore. 

You ripped your hand from under his and slid out of the booth, making a mad dash for the door. You didn’t slow down until you were back in your room, and that’s when you let the tears fall. The alcohol in your system wouldn’t allow for you to put this into any kind of perspective tonight, you knew that, so you resolved to just let yourself cry it out and go to bed. 

Stripping off your dress and getting into your pajamas was a herculean task, but you managed it. Just as you crawled into bed, you heard a knock at your door. 

“Sweetheart?” Poe’s muffled voice came from the other side. “Please let me in.” 

You sighed and shuffled over, punching in the door code to see Poe on the other side, looking like he’d aged ten years in the last fifteen minutes. He came in when you stepped aside. 

“I’m stupid, okay?” he declared, whipping around to face you when you closed the door and leaned against it. “What I said back there, it…I’m just…”

“Scared?” you supplied. He nodded, adam’s apple bobbing when he swallowed. You giggled at his response. “Poe Dameron, hero of the Resistance, ace pilot and bane of the First Order is afraid of little old me?” 

Maybe you were still a little drunk. 

But Poe’s incredulous laugh was worth it. You smiled at each other, moving toward each other like there was some gravitational pull between you. 

“Yeah, starshine,” he said lowly, “I’m terrified of you.”

His hands landed on your waist and yours sought out the warmth of his broad chest, neither of you looking away from the other. You didn’t stop, leaning up on your toes as he leaned down. Your lips met in the middle, and fireworks exploded behind your eyes. Heat flooded you when he deepened the kiss, his strong hand resting on the side of your neck and his thumb tracing along your jaw. 

When the two of you came up for air, he rested his forehead against yours. Breaths mingling, he asked. 

“Will you have dinner with me tomorrow night?” he breathed out and you couldn’t resist teasing him. 

“I’ll think about it.”

[ultimate-shipper-blog]

The previous chapter:

Pt.3

So...this was normal right? Steve wasn't surprised anymore at his new normal. Should it surprise him that a woman in a wedding dress is sitting across from him in the back room of his shitty 9-5? Probably. But it doesn't. He doesn't know what to do with her though. She hasn't said a word, just keeps staring at him with large wet eyes. He zeroes in on her necklace. She's fiddling with it, twirling it around. It kind of reminds him of Eddie's guitar pick necklace but the colors are different. A mixture of yellow and blue and red.

It's getting a little too silent for his liking.

"Can you tell me your name?" Steve asks her as softly as he can.

"L-Lydia"

"Do you have a last name? Any family in town?"

"Well haha," she cuts off with a laugh. "You could say that." Her blue eyes almost seem to narrow afterwards like she's trying to read his mind. He hopes she doesn't have powers like El he can't exactly explain away anything more. She looks so familiar, if she was younger she'd look exactly like his mother as a child. He runs through a list of girls he's hooked up with and is thankful none of them have dropped off surprise babies. I mean could you imagine? Him? With kids while he's this young? Ha! Laughable.

...it's his dream.

"Can you tell me what you're doing here? I mean I don't understand why you asked for me." He tries not to think of the obvious white frilly elephant in the room.

"I'm in trouble and you were the first name I thought of."

Trouble?

"Your fiance? He hurt you?" He starts to push himself off the couch feeling overly protective of this girl. "And I know him? He mentioned me?" His fists clench.

"No! No! No! Not that kind of trouble I'm ok really!" She looks bashful now like she's embarrassed but she's looking at him with pride in her eyes. "Can you sit down again?"

She grabs his hands.

"I am here to help you Steve Harrington. I need you to trust me."

"I don't understand."

"I know how to stop Vecna."

His blood runs cold.

"No." He rips his hands out of hers. "Who are you? What are you? ROBIN!"

"No! Please! I'm here to help. You have to believe me!"

He can hear Robin outside arguing with a second voice.

"I'm from the future," she grabs him again trying to put her entire weight on him to stop him from leaving. "I'm not from the Upside Down I'm here to help!"

She's almost backing him up by the door, her eyes frantic.

"Please I thought you of all people would believe me!" She clinging onto him for dear life. He can't breathe. It can't be back. He was naive to think it was over.

The back door opens behind him and they both tumble to the floor.

"Woah, Stevie, the other girls weren't good enough you had to go for the married ones?" Eddie cackles from above him.

Lydia snaps her head up at the sound of his voice. Her entire face going pale. She looks nauseous.

"I have to go." She states seriously

"Wait! No! You-" she pushes past them and runs out of the store.

"Wow" Eddie says "I've never had that kind of reaction from a girl before."

"Shut it Munson call a code red."

------

Lydia is at the Diner in town sipping on a chocolate milkshake when a familiar mop of hair approaches her.

"Hey"

She turns her head slowly at the sound, eyes glassy. She feels numb. Reality setting in. It played out differently in her head, she doesn't know what she should've expected. Her Pa to magically remember her? Years before she was even born? Before her parents even got together? She huffs out a breath and turns towards the voice that dares to interrupt her wallowing. What she's not expecting is to be face to face with her uncle. Well...face to shoulder...he's shorter at this age.

"Holy shit."

"Yeah holy shit is right!" Her Uncle Dustin looks upset, a little frown line forming between his brows. "You need to come with me."

------

Hi guys! How're you liking this? It's the one thing I look forward to writing when I get off work. My schedule only has me writing small chapters sorry. I also have the ending already written before the rest.🫣 Please interact with this!!! I love reading your comments :)

Tag:

@tinyplanet95

[moonleeai]

Code Name: Gummy Bear

˚ʚ pairing: Asset!Namjoon x Agent!Reader ˚ʚ au/genre: Agent/Asset, soft smut ˚ʚ rating: MA ˚ʚ warnings: implied violence, blood, cursing, implied sexual acts ˚ʚ wc: 1262

˚ʚ Summary: You were hired for two things: to keep Kim Namjoon safe and content. What’s the harm in also giving in to what we wants…

˚ʚ Thank you to @downbad4yoongi for beta reading!

˚ʚ Part of the @bangtanwritershq September 2023 “Big Boys” flash fiction writing event

You were assigned to Kim Namjoon’s detail only three months ago. He’s been the most straightforward assignment by far; all you have to do is keep him safe and content. Three months ago, pretty boy was riding his bicycle in the wrong place at the wrong time and witnessed a horrific act under the Han River Bridge. The government can use his information, but the mafia wants to bury him—dead or alive.

The man may be muscular, but he’s more of a lover than a fighter, and you—well, you’re as badass as they come. You can take down men before they know what’s coming, leaving them bloodied and bruised, begging for mercy on their knees— if they survive your attack.

You learned everything about Namjoon reasonably quickly—he’s a talker. All he needs is art in any form and gummy bears. Your team is taking longer than expected to find the last few mafia members. Three months have passed, and Namjoon is getting restless; he keeps putting himself in dangerous situations.

Today, he snuck out to a museum as he sent you on an impossible task to purchase gummy bears and a rare art magazine. It took three vendors laughing in your face before you realized what he had planned.

You take a deep breath and pull out your encrypted phone, “Activate GPS on Gummy Bear.”

“Confirm identity,” a monotone voice says from the other line.

“Agent Daisy.” A code name you unwillingly earned to help ease the minds of your assignments; your deadly actions were intertwined with your persona, so your handler thought a flower code name would help. You hate it.

“Confirmed.” Within seconds, you have Namjoon’s location and hail a taxi to the site. Frustrated, you open the bag of elastic gelatin and rip the heads off the bears with your teeth.  

When you arrive at the closed museum, you can smell the trouble. With your phone guiding you to the basement, you hear men shouting and find Namjoon tied to a chair with a spotlight on him. You scan the space and find there are only three thugs. Easy. You pull your hair into a bun, zip up your jacket, and throw the hood over your head. You begin your walk toward them with your head down, the grocery bag making light rustling sounds at your side.

“Yah! Who are you? How’d you get down here?!” Yells one of the men. You continue your walk. “Are you dumb?” He continues trying to scare you as you pick up your pace. You stop just a few steps away, look at the man closest to you, and smugly smile while dropping the grocery bag.

“You boys have something of mine,” you flick your eyes to Namjoon and back to the man, “and I don’t play well with others.”

Before you knew it, all three men were knocked out cold, and your team was collecting the bodies —clean-up protocol. 

“What took you so long?” Namjoon scoffs.

“Next time…I’ll quit and leave you for the wolves.” You chide and get in the backseat of a black SUV waiting to take you and Namjoon back to the secure apartment. He likes it when you get mad, says it’s hot, which pisses you off even more. You sit in silence with a blank stare while Namjoon admires you candidly. He reaches out to grab your hand, but you stop him, “Touch me and I will break your fingers.” Namjoon draws his bottom lip between his teeth before smirking and averting his eyes out his window.

You walk through the apartment door like a hurricane. Shoes get hurled in opposite directions, and you throw the plastic bag of art magazines and half-eaten gummy bears onto the kitchen island as you make your way to the bathroom. 

Namjoon follows you like a puppy nipping at your heels. You start the shower and take your jacket off, tossing it forcefully to the ground. Namjoon’s eyes widen, “Shit! Are you okay!?” His eyes fixate on your white lace tank top, where blood stains a few places. You glance in the mirror at him standing behind you, innocent and sweet, undoubtedly concerned. 

“Yeah, Gummy Bear…it’s not my blood.” You turn to look at him as you remove your top, exposing your bare breasts. You watch his Adam's Apple bob as he swallows hard. “See, everything’s fine. I need a quick shower. You wanna watch?” you snicker. He rolls his eyes and walks away. “Coward!” You call out behind him and giggle as you step into the hotter-than-hell water.

Namjoon has never struggled with resisting you. Your lewd advances and constant showing of skin leave little to the imagination— and he has a wild one. One that has him dreaming of all the things he wants to do with you— if only he weren’t so nervous to open that door. For now, he has fun riling you up and getting reactions, although he never intended for you to get hurt in the process.

Freshly showered, you slip on a baggy t-shirt and go to the living room, where Namjoon reads a magazine and eats gummy bears. He’s lying with one leg flung over the back of the couch, so you plop down by his crotch, throwing your legs over his one leg stretching on the couch seats, and close your eyes. Namjoon quickly sits up, seeming uncomfortable with your proximity. You put a hand on his chest to stop him from moving.

“Relax, Gummy Bear. I need to recharge, and this is so you can’t escape me.”

Namjoon lets out his unknowingly held breath, “Your lip…it’s…”

You curl your lip inward and flit your tongue on the cut, “Yeah. One of those assholes sucker punched me. It’ll heal.”

Eyes still closed, you feel Namjoon’s finger graze your laceration. He says nothing, but you can feel his apology. You open your eyes just enough to notice his stare has turned passionate. Heat spreads under your skin, and your heart begins to race.

“Gummy Bear, are you finally going to act on those impure thoughts?”

“Can I?” Before you can respond, Namjoon is shyly and gently pressing his lips to yours. Then he brushes his lips down your neck, nibbling and sucking, “I’m safe, thanks to you. How can I thank you, Daisy?”

You cringe at the name, and now the heat burns red like a demon. Giving a devilish smile, you pin him down on the couch and straddle his lap. 

“What the fuck?!”

“You know I hate that name.” You wrap one hand around his throat, applying light pressure, reminding him how you are completely opposite of a fragile, little daisy.

He taps your arm frantically, and when you let up, he breathes heavily. “Fuck! You fucking terrify me!”

Your pussy clenches, sending a quiver through your body. You lean closer to him, “Mmm, talking dirty to me?”

Namjoon smirks, and you feel his dick twitch, “I want to do so many dirty things...What should I call you? Princess?”

“Fuck a princess, I’m a King.” You laugh mischievously.  

He runs his hands up your thighs and tepidly lifts the hem of your shirt, exposing your pussy. He curses under his breath and firmly grasps your hips, then glides your naked core against his hardening cock. You take control of his hands and pull them up to your breasts while rocking your hips against his cock. His eyes roll into the back of his head as he damn near begs, “Fuck me, please!”

“Oh, Gummy Bear…I’m going to eat you alive.”

[rebelspykatie]

Rushin’ through me like a fire Part 6

A Steddie Club AU

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7

And he finally gets a chance to do what he’s wanted all night, tracing the line of scars from Eddie’s neck all the way down to his collarbone, featherlight touch in case Steve makes the wrong move here. But goosebumps trail in his wake, Eddie’s hands tensing on his thighs, that flush spanning the length of his neck. One of Steve’s hands settles on Eddie’s chest, slipped between the rips, right over Eddie’s heart, fingertips lightly grazing the raised skin. 

“They’re from a fire,” Eddie says, voice calm even as Steve identifies a dangerous, uncertain look in his eyes. “People always ask. Figured I’d get it out of the way before you could.”

Steve’s hand slips, unsure if he’s allowed to keep touching, but Eddie must sense the movement and stops Steve with a touch to his wrist, holding his hand in place. 

“You can touch them. No one’s touched them like this before." Eddie doesn’t drop his hand, just keeps thumbing along his wrist. Now they’re both covered in goosebumps. “My parents were musicians, always away at shows. They left me with my uncle Wayne a lot while they were on the road.” He runs his hand down Steve’s arm, gently cupping his elbow. “Once I was old enough, I would go to as many shows as I could, just wanting to be closer to them. But they were always in these dive bars. Places that could barely pass inspections. Nobody really pays attention to fire codes in places like that.” 

There’s a heavy pause before Eddie continues, “One of those places only had one exit, about as far from the stage as you could get. Some dipshit lost control of a cigarette backstage and lit the whole place up in flames. They had all these ratty old curtains that made it worse. I tried to run to the stage, but I got dragged out of the place. Some of the rafters came down on me, fucked up my side and my face.” Another pause. His gaze unfocused and lost in the memory. “That was the last time I saw my parents.” 

Steve knows there’s not anything he can say to make that loss easier, but it does make him think about the bar downstairs. How it’s named Hellfire. How the bar is branded with flames. How Eddie’s scared of crowds. How Eddie made it into a safe haven despite his fear.

“Is the club in honor of them?” Eddie’s eyes meet his again. He nods slowly. 

“It didn’t start that way. I had all this money I didn’t know what to do with. They weren’t the fucking Beatles or anything, but they had a few albums do well and didn’t spend much of it before they died. Got a bit from their life insurance. Got even more when their house sold. Used a bit to pay the medical bills. Gave some to my uncle. Put the rest into this place.”

“It was a grimy old warehouse when I started. An absolute shit hole. But Chrissy and the guys from my band helped fix it up, we all worked to make it the place it is now. It gave me a really good outlet after everything happened. I was so angry and I got to hammer shit all the time.” He chuckles darkly, ducking his head. “Sorry I didn’t mean for this to get heavy.” 

“Eddie,” Steve taps Eddie’s chin, raising it until they’re looking at each other. “Hellfire is like a home to me, to a lot of people. You made it into this safe place. Not just for yourself, but for others.” He plays with a strand of Eddie’s hair that’s come loose from his ponytail. “Your parents would be proud. Thank you for telling me about them.” 

Steve leans down and presses his forehead against Eddie’s, meaning for it to be gentle, but Eddie surges up and kisses him. Grasping onto Steve’s thighs, he tugs him closer, sliding one hand around to the small of his back, pressing until it feels like there’s no space left between them. Chest to chest, Steve can feel how hard Eddie’s breathing, the way they both are trying to suck the oxygen out of each other. 

It turns frantic fast, tongues battling it out in each other’s mouths and hands wandering under shirts. The lithe expanse of Eddie’s neck has been teasing him all night, flushed red and glittering with sweat. Steve breaks their kiss to lean down and lick up a bead of sweat, tongue following its trail before latching on with an open mouth and sucking on the side that’s not covered in scars. A high pitched mewl leaves Eddie’s throat, the vibration egging Steve on, desperate to hear that sound again. 

Eddie’s sunk down enough that his head is thrown back against the armrest of the couch, leaving his neck on display for Steve, a pale column of flesh that Steve wants to sink his teeth into and not let up until Eddie’s a whimpering mess in his hands. He takes his time, alternating between a harsh sucking motion and soft delicate kisses until he sees bruises start to form. Pulling sound after sound from Eddie, blissfully leaving his mark and savoring the tangy salty taste of their exertion from earlier. 

He takes a minute and runs his fingers along the scars on Eddie’s shoulder, holding the fabric of his shirt to the side and peppering kisses along the scars on the left side of his neck. A full body shudder takes over and Eddie’s hips buck up, seeking friction from Steve, his hands clenching on Steve’s thigh and back.

“Steve, baby,” Eddie whines, “please stop teasing me. This’ll be over before it even starts if you don’t stop. I haven’t even seen you naked yet.” 

He sits back on his heels, both of them panting and staring at each other with dilated pupils and puffy, kiss-slicked lips. Eddie looks completely ravished, like Steve’s already taken him apart, neck littered in marks and hair so tousled it's barely in a ponytail at all anymore. Steve probably doesn’t look much better, with his polo tugged halfway out of his pants.

Steve pulls his shirt off in one quick motion, tossing it somewhere unknown. Eddie’s breath hitches in his chest, staring up at Steve with wild eyes. He feels like an entire meal that Eddie wants to feast on. This frantic want, but slow devotion is almost too much for Steve. It’s nothing like anyone he’s slept with before and they’re still mostly fully clothed. 

It’s time to change that. 

“Should we relocate?” Steve asks, nodding towards the bed and climbing off of Eddie’s lap.

AO3 | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 7

[dani-the-mark]

I WATCH THE "hello." STREAM SO YOU DON'T HAVE TO! Part 1

So, as some of you may know, we got a new QR code tonight. This one led to a 55-minute stream. I know not everyone has time for that, but we all deserve to be a part of this family. So, I wrote a play-by-play to the best of my ability. Because it is so long, part one will be the first 30 minutes and part two will be the last 25. So, hopefully, my brain doesn't explode before this is over. Uncle Howdy, I miss you.

It opens with Vickie Guerrero Introducing Kane on Raw. It cuts to a room with a chair, bookshelf, and a mirror. There are background noises: mostly wind/AC, occasional shuffling and maybe footsteps. 

A few images flash on screen intermittently: a crescent moon, blurry silhouette (could've been Bray or Bo),  skull(?), Sister Abigail(?), and House of Horrors room(?). Then, in quick succession - same crescent moon again, lion, bones. Lastly, a close up on mirror before we hear the sound of knocking, and a woman enters the room. It seems like therapy. From this point on “she” will be referring specifically to the therapist character unless otherwise stated. She sounds very familiar, like maybe from one of Bray’s phone calls? 

She asks questions and flips through a notebook, but we don't hear any response. We do hear the turning of pages that are independent from hers. More flashing images: the same bird and aly chemical-type symbol we've been seeing. From this point, I will just call it a/the symbol. Then a figure in a sheet a la Sister Abigail. Close up of an eye, then a front porch that definitely reminds me of the House of Horrors.

Woman asks about feelings and if “anything has changed”. The last few words are repeated, but distorted. A flash of the figure again, and it's almost DEFINITELY Abigail. Then a hand reaching around a door and dripping thorns, both in black and white. She asks about sleep. Image turns yellow, then flashes of many pieces of paper with the symbol drawn on. They are identical to the one's in the first video we received tonight (WWE.com/22423). 

She asks about dreams. The word “dreams” is also repeated and distorted. WWE logo flashes with the words “LEFT IN CAVE TO ROT” overlaying it. Then the words “TO BE FORGOTTEN”. The same door from before flashes again. More flashing of the symbol, a rotting animal corpse (I think a rabbit), scarecrow-like figures, the road from inside a vehicle, the porch, and Abigail. Abigail is pointing at the viewer. The last image is very unclear. It looked like hay or fur. We also see some of the previous images included in the last few QR codes (the man looking at the bird). 

She asks about eating. A bird in flight and a fly in distress flash. Symbol and ANOTHER QR CODE. It's an old one that leads to wwe.com/qrisme. It stays on screen for an extended amount of time. 

She asks about getting out and socializing. The road flashes again, and we hear a quiet “he is waiting for you”. Then Sister Abigail again, from the same angle we saw in the “We Be(o)lieved” video. We see the porch again, and a paper that reads “remember who you are” is thrown in front of the door. 

She mentions social media. The words “I DIDN'T FIX THEM” appear, then “I ACCEPTED THEM”. Lines from the poem The New Colossus (from the plaque on The Statue of Liberty) appear: “Give me your tired, your poor, your huddled masses yearning to breathe free”. Then we see an eye again and a face with a triangle of negative space in the center. “THEY WERE BROKEN” flashes after she asks how the things on social media “made you feel”. 

We are about 10 minutes in. 

“I ACCEPTED THEM” appears again. We hear shuffling, pages turning, and pages ripping. A new (?) QR code appears leading to https://www.wwe.com/ysnsy51s. It's a very unnerving. The file name is “imagehttps://www.wwe.com/f/all/2024/04/strabizo--47c610e3e7c872be6561bb243c69dd2f.jpg”. The bird and symbol flash again. 

She asks about distinguishing between reality and imagination. The “REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE NOT” reappears, as well as the blurry silhouette, the symbol, and Abigail. The silhouette is not any clearer. She asks about the effects of “episodes” on day-to-day life, and the porch and silhouette flash again. She gets up and begins to walk towards the camera, picking up a piece of paper or note card and slipping into her notebook before sitting back down. 

It's a picture of some sort, but it's not immediately visible. She turns it towards the camera, but it's drowned out by light. She asks “what this means to you”. The image then appears, and it's a crudely drawn bird similar to the one that has been appearing in various hints and throughout the stream. Then there's another quick suggestion of images: the symbol, the bird, and the words “BECAUSE WE BELIEVED”. 

She asks what emotions the bird represents/elicits. We hear more paper ripping. Once again we see the symbol and bird, followed by a single frame of white text over a red background that reads “ALL_WE_EVER_WANTED_WAS_A_CHANCE.”. Then the outline of the bird is cut into the wall of text. 

She says “you're quite the artist” before the drawing, symbol, and bird appear once more. She asks  “how long have you been drawing pictures like this?”, then the crescent moon reappears. Next is a new silhouette: black with its arm raised over a textured light gray background. Another QR code leads to https://www.wwe.com/kintsugi. This one was also new to me. It includes a video with many of the images from the stream, as well as the words “LAGRANGE POINT”. The code also stays on screen for a significant amount of time, before the bird covers it and it disappears. 

She asks about a deeper meaning to the drawing. The symbol, bird in flight, and black and white silhouette reappear. She retrieves another piece of paper, and reads out “can you keep a secret? I set them free”. The paper flashes. What is written is only “I SET THEM FREE”, and is once again followed by the bird.  Following this is the text “I ACCEPTED THEM” and “THEY WERE BROKEN”. She asks if the picture and note are connected, and we hear more paper ripping. She asks “who did you set free?” which is repeated and distorted. The symbols and the “REMEMBER WHO YOU ARE” note flash again. A clip from the video in the kintsugi link plays before the text “YOU WILL UNDERSTAND”. 

She attempts to encourage an answer to the question, then we see the symbol, poem, “I DIDN'T FIX THEM”, and “I ACCEPTED THEM”. Then the screen is filled with “THEY OPENED THE DOOR” repeatedly. At the bottom is “WE CAN BE A FAMILY”. This is also identical to a previous video. Admittedly at this point they have all run together so I can't remember which one. 

Another QR links to https://www.wwe.com/derisive, also new to me. Warning: there is a jump scare at the end of the video. This page also includs the words “years in metonic cycle” and some sort of letter/word puzzle at https://www.wwe.com/f/2024/05/evkairia.pdf. I am very openly bad at these, so I will leave that for one of you if you’d like. This code also says on screen before the bird appears to remove it. She attempts to encourage more openness, and there's the sound of paper shuffling. She gets up again and grabs another paper. She says “you want me to understand”, and the words “YOU WILL UNDERSTAND” flash. 

The paper appears to read “THEY WERE TRAPPED. I SHOWED THEM HOW TO OPEN THE DOOR”. She reads the note aloud, and the last sentence is once again repeated and distorted. She asks who the note is referring to, and the image of the note flashes again before the “WE CAN BE A FAMILY” screen reappears. 

There is the sound of shuffling. She asks more questions, trying to understand the note. After a moment of silence, she takes another paper. The note appears “DO YOU SEE? AM ALREADY FREE :)” after she reads this aloud as well. Flipping it over, the other side appears “I AM ALL OF US”, which she also reads. There's another paper rip. She asks for help understanding, and “YOU WILL UNDERSTAND” flashes again. 

Another QR code, this one is familiar and leads to https://www.wwe.com/404 (the Be(o)lieved video).This code disappears with the bird as well, but is on screen for less time than the others. She asks about childhood and early memories. Two images flash: a sonogram and baby sleeping. After another moment and more ripping paper, an artistic image (maybe a painting) of a man in a complicated cave system flashes. 

22 minutes.

A close up of an eye flashes, followed by the bird, “WHILE YOU DID NOTHING”, the symbol, and the baby picture. There's another long silence. Then, another QR code leads to https://www.wwe.com/RRMBHPAW. This is another new video to me, but it's quite simple. VERY interesting, however. This code disappears on its own. 

She gets another note, which flashes “I HAVE ALWAYS BEEN”. She also reads this aloud. She asks a few more questions about the note potentially being connected to childhood or triggered by something while the ripping noises start once more. There's an especially long silence before another code. This once takes us to https://www.wwe.com/121212 and it's…it's a lot. There are a series of photos, the first few being either notes we’ve seen during the stream or notes that appear to be related. There are also a few photographs and a newspaper clipping describing the woman in the video, who’s name is redacted, as missing. This code also disappears on its own. 

She retrieves another note, which is included in the last link. It appears on screen occasionally as she reads it. It says “I REMINDED HIM OF WHO HE WAS. I SHOWED HIM HIS LIES. NOW HE SHOWS ME HIS VISION. IT IS BEAUTIFUL”. The text “EVEN NOW” appears with a new clip of birds flying over a forest. 

She asks for elaboration on who the note is referring to, with the “HE” written in the note appearing. She asks if there is someone the patient is trying to protect, and the “THEY WERE TRAPPED” note flashes again, as well as more of the symbol. There is the sound of ripping again, and a repeat of the WE CAN BE A FAMILY screen. 

After another silence, which seems to be longer now each time, she picks up another note. The note flashes “THEY WERE LEFT ALL ALONE. I OPENED THE DOOR. NOW THEY ARE NOT ALONE ANYMORE. DO YOU UNDERSTAND?”. As she is reading it, a video of a door opening plays and the last two sentences are repeated and distorted. 

30 minutes. End of part one.

[siorca]

Megatron helping out Soundwave through heat ? 🔊🌊

haha I bet you thought you were gonna get porn, but, no, you just get basic shit with some of my weird headcanons

—

Before the invasion, the only proper way to create new life was through Vector Sigma.

During the Age of Quintessons, it was the intentions of the quints to subjugate their subjects further by controlling their very means of existence. In those times, the quints had managed to bury themselves so thoroughly into Cybertron’s core that were able to re-write the very coding that defined the planet. They made their Autobots for manual labor and their Decepticons for their militia.

Although millions of years had passed and the lines between Autobot and Decepticon had turned more political through the building of cultural bonds, the scars the quints left within their coding ran deep. Vector Sigma remained the prominent component for reproduction; quick and efficient as it was, but the Quints were malicious with their experiments before they were driven off. Something organic remained within Cybertron’s core and it reflected in its inhabitants during certain times of the year. Heat Cycles did not smart in the same way they did when they were first discovered, and some Cybertronians found power in raising their own young.

It still did not make them an altogether pleasant experience.

Presently, Megatron was momentarily taken aback by the lump of blankets on the berth. He remembered finding the soft fabrics squirreled away sometime a few cycles before, a steady pile that grew exponentially. He himself did not like the organic material; it tore and ripped within his plating as he laid and the reminder of Earth did not leave a pleasant taste in his mouth. A piece of deep coding rebelled at the idea of nesting within something so brittle, but his mate held no such qualms.

Soundwave’s Autobot coding reigned strong when he was in heat. Autobots liked to den in soft, warm things to protect and comfort their young. Decepticons liked to nest in good vantage points to watch for danger.

Within the cocoon of blankets stared back the red visor of his mate, fever bright at the edges. He peered up at Megatron with suspicion, a soft white cotton clutched in his hand, kneading softly.

Megatron’s plating bristled, resisting the urge to claw his mate from under his den to move him to a more appropriate nest. The steady glare from his mate stalled his hands. While Soundwave was normally defined by his patience and submission, he was downright mean when he was in heat.

Soundwave was also particularly over protective of where he settled, his steady optics watching his mate as if he did not quite trust him. Megatron suppressed a growl. He had a long shift on the bridge, mainly because it was boring, and all he wanted to do was crawl into berth, preferably with his mate tucked against his plating somewhere.

A peace offering, then.

“My lovely mate,” he started, using all his natural charisma to charm. “You must be hungry after all your effort with your den. Let me take care of you.”

Soundwave’s wary visor brightened slightly and Megatron felt his gaze as he walked to their personal dispenser in the corner, filling three cubes, the colorful liquid sloshing around the sides. Megatron heard his tanks give a pitiful rumble. He had not refueled since this morning.

He carefully walked back to the berth, placing the cubes on the edge of the berth, wary of Soundwave’s swiping distance. Soundwave looked consideringly at the offering, swiping one under his den with a pleased hum.

A questioning little noise came from the den, followed by the barely widening of the entrance. Megatron could see the pleased look on Soundwave’s face and knew he had won his mate over.

Megatron ignored the itchy feeling in his spark and climbed into the berth.

[houseofoddballs]

Yandere Error Sans

Sorry if this is rushed, i'm fairly rusty and it's two thirty in the morning. but tada, i'm alive XD

“Tch, I tried being gentle and slow, yet this is how you repay me? By running off with my only friend? For shame Byte.” Muffled screams rang out from every direction as this iteration of the underground decayed in a way. A pair of red slippers stepped into view, or are they flip-flops? Everything about Error shifts so much with his glitching that I can hardly tell. Slowly I lifted my head to look up at Error. Slowly an underground being dissolved into lines of overlapping and intermingling zero’s and one’s came into view, along with Error himself as I raised my head to meet his gaze. 

I had never seen that look on Error before. A look of sadistic pleasure, a smugness that could only be equated to winning, as if he still had more ways to hurt me. He stepped to the side with a flourish of metacarpals and a mock bow as he laughed. I gasped and cupped my hands over my mouth at what I saw. Raised high in the air by blue strings at the most awkward and uncomfortable position, his bones Jarring out in odd angles that no humanoid figure should bend at; was poor Blueberry. Blue and black numbers flooded and poured out of his sockets like tears made of static as his gloved hands dug into his sockets, trying frantically to rip out the pestilence to no avail. 

“Why (Y/n), Why?” He sobbed out, his screams cut off as more lines of code poured from his mouth, running down his chin like some sick drool. Error scoffed and motioned his hand in poor Blueberry’s direction, sending blue strings from his fingertips through blues sockets, cutting through the glitching and wrapping up through the corners of his mouth, pulling Blue’s face into some sort of gruesome smile, in the loosest form of the word.

“An anomaly like you has already stained my little Byte's name with your filthy mouth, and you dare to repeat it in such a scornful manner in my presence? I would have expected better. What a pity.” Before I could lunge toward him, Error flourished his hand in another direction and with a sickening SNAP Blue’s head came crashing to the ground, laying in the snow with that horrific grin sewn onto his face. I stared into his eyes as more of the code spilled out and overflowed.

Error’s laughter filled my ears and flooded my mind, but when I looked up at him he was far from laughing. His lazy grin was still plastered on his face, but his eyes were filled with something closely related to disdain, if disdain and adoration could be mixed. He knelt down to my level, placing a hand out between us almost as if he were going to cup my chin. Instead, blue strings were coaxed from his fingertips to wrap around my throat, tight enough to apply pressure, but gentle enough that they didn’t cut into my flesh. A gentle warning. He let out a sigh. This was as close to me as he dare get, still closer than anyone else though. I wished he would stay as far away from me as possible. His multicolored eyes made me sick, just as sick as the carnage surrounding us.

Error’s laughter rang deafeningly through my mind, the only thing louder than his laughter was the sound of their screams. The screams of monsters as they fled their homes before they could be infected by the binary plague that was tearing reality apart before their eyes, ripping their loved ones from the multiverse. Monsters pressed with their backs against the barrier watching in terror as the static corroding through the very earth crept closer until it swallowed them and everyone they held dear. Yet the pestilence didn’t come within five feet of me and Error, far enough away that It wouldn’t rid me of Blue’s corpse. Before long the screams died out and I realized that the laughter was not Error’s, it was my own. 

I was laughing, tears streaming down my cheeks as my lungs heaved desperately for Oxygen. I couldn’t believe this. Just weeks ago I had been comfortably in my own universe where all of these characters were works of fiction, just days ago I was Error’s prisoner to his awkwardness and mundane finger knitting, just yesterday Ink had rescued me to Blue’s universe where he promised I would be safe; yet here we are. This skeleton that I had once thought awkward and grumpy was holding me at a distance with such dangerous care, Blueberry was dead, staring at me in disfigured glee, and Ink was nowhere to be found. What could I do other than laugh? I was already crying.

Yet still Error looked at me with such tender care, as if I were a declawed cat in a muzzle trying to fight him. Slowly my laughter faded to sobs, violent sobs that wracked through my entire body and brought my frame to tremble. A white hole opened in the black void where reality used to be, the antivoid. As the blue threads slipped from my throat they slid down to bind and pick me up as Error began walking towards and through the portal. I turned my head to watch as the decay of reality swallowed Blueberry. He deserved so much better than what I had unknowingly brought upon him. Error's voice came suddenly only an inch away from my ear, closer than he had ever been as we watched the void of nothingness swallow the once beloved bundle of joy.

“It’s all your fault. This is why you should listen when I tell you that an anomaly like you will simply destroy anything outside of the antivoid. I didn’t do that (Y/n)... You did. You’re so much more than an anomaly. So much worse. So much more… Like me.” He chuckled, sending a shiver down my spine. Was what he said true? If that was the case then why would Ink have put me there? It couldn’t be true, Error had to be the one to do that… Right?

[late-to-the-magnus-archives]

On the Same Page - a Malevolent fic

To keep a wound from festering, one must reveal it. Vulnerability is not in the nature of gods, but Sunny is willing to try anyway, and conclude this painful discussion so both he and Parker can, at last, begin to heal.

Part of the Surrogate series. Written with @sepiabandensis.

AO3

----------------

Parker, Sunny said. What do you do, if you're waiting for a good time to discuss something painful, but one simply doesn't exist?

Parker let out a low breath. Oh, boy. 

It wasn't that he intended to just… ignore the situation at hand. Or even that it had slipped his mind. It was more… 

Things had been good. They'd gone for a solid week and a half without a single incident, with the King checking in on them every now and then, and Parker had gotten used to taking a run in the morning while everyone else ate breakfast and doing more training at night.

Parker could handle the schedule; it was nice to be in control of most of it. Parker could handle the King; that was not a good being, he knew, but he understood this kind of crime boss: there was a weird code of honor here, and as long as Parker followed the rules, he and Sunny would be safe.

This was the part he didn’t know how to handle. "Is this because we're going to dinner with them tomorrow?" he asked, low.

Sunny was quiet. Suspiciously quiet. No, he lied. I was just wondering.

"Is that true? 'Cause it sounds like something is bothering you." Parker washed his hands in the basin of water by the courtyard door, getting the dirt out from under his fingernails.

Putting that investigator's mind to work, I see.

"Come on, bud. Rip the bandage off, use your words."

Sunny was quiet again for a long moment.

I want to talk about Arthur Lester, he finally said, his voice soft and cautious.

Parker sighed. "I figured."

We don’t have to, he said quickly, pure worry. If it will ruin dinner tomorrow, we don’t have to. I can wait. It’s not that import—

“Sunny.” Parker only rarely interrupted when Sunny spoke, and only when it was important—and the entity felt a thrill of fear at that knowledge. “We ain’t doin’ that, bud. This is important, ‘cause you’re my partner, and you’re important. Alright?”

Alright. Parker could feel his jaw set itself on its own, a nervous tic that had bled over from his passenger. Alright. I… Can we go to the water garden, and sit under the tree?

Parker blinked. “Sure, alright. Any reason?”

It’s… It’s calm there. Peaceful. I think… it might make it easier for me.

“Then yeah, let's go to the garden.” Parker shook his hands dry, slipping out of the herb garden to make his way through the winding halls of the palace. 

He was really starting to get a feel for the place, seeing the patterns within its strange architecture. Already he could get to the important places without assistance: the kitchen, their room, the throne room…

The music room.

They passed it as they walked, the sound of tinkling piano notes sweet against Parker’s ears, and it set his heart aching.

He wondered, again, if that was something Sunny could feel; the sensation of lead in his chest, heavy and dragging him downward. He could almost feel the entity cringe, shrinking away as the music grew, the sound of muffled conversation emerging when the notes stopped; and then they were past it, moving on, and Sunny was starting to relax again.

The water garden was one of Sunny’s favorites. The twin suns were shining above, the trees lining the garden cast dappled shadows across the path, and sunlight gleamed off the water between lilypads and water flowers. Parker sat heavily in the bench beneath the tree; it was a kind he had most certainly never seen before, and Sunny said did not exist outside the Dreamlands, with drooping branches and small leaves that were dotted with small white flowers.

Parker sat and watched the water bubbling down from a small, artfully arranged waterfall, and took a moment to breathe. “So,” he said, breaking the silence.

So, Sunny agreed. I think… I think I’m going to start from the beginning. Is that alright?

“However helps, bud.” Parker leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees.

I don’t remember anything before waking up in Arthur Lester’s head, Sunny said, his voice soft. Anything I’ve remembered since has been… Inspired by seeing something. But when I awoke—when I became —there was nothing. I was just suddenly there, and I had no idea why, and I was sharing a body with—with this— person. I… I was surprised when he spoke. I half thought he was dead.

“What’d he say?” Parker’s voice was soft, and he swallowed thickly.

He asked… ‘Who is this?’ Sunny let out a very soft, mournful sound. It’s… It’s almost funny, now. Looking back. It was almost polite. I told him I was a friend, and… end that it looked like he’d been through the wringer. When I asked him what happened, he said he didn’t remember, and… he tricked me.

“Tricked you?” Parker glanced away from the pond, focusing on the way the breeze tangled a few of the branches of the strange tree above them. “How?”

I told him we’d been in an accident. I didn’t know any better, but I needed him calm. You understand that, right? His voice was pleading. I didn’t lie out of malice. And then I asked him to look in his bag, and… And then he revealed that he knew, all along. The words were tumbling out, like stones down a hillside, and he was so afraid. He told me he knew all along what I was, told me who I was, and that he’d made a deal to bring me to him, told me I wanted this, but I wasn’t John, Parker. I wasn’t. And he was covered in blood, and there was a fucking blizzard outside, and…

“Easy, bud.” Parker reached up, brushing the curve of his jaw, and Sunny let out a shaky breath. “You’re alright. I’m listening.”

He called me a parasite, Sunny said. Like… Like it was my choice to be there. He said he didn’t care if we both died, because I wasn’t John.

Parker sucked in a breath, completely involuntarily. Flexed his hands into the dirty knees of his linen pants.

I… I’m sorry, Parker. Maybe it’s best if I—

“No, bud.” Parker fought to keep the grief from his voice; fought to keep himself from talking about Arthur, from defending him. “I’m alright. It’s just… It’s rough to hear that. But I gotta. We gotta get all the evidence, even if it sucks. Okay?”

…Okay, Sunny said, sounding not sure whatsoever.

“So he called you a parasite.”

It’s… It’s strange, that it’s stuck to me through ten years. But…

“That’s a pretty charged thing to call someone.” Parker took a moment to work at the muscle of his jaw, encouraging Sunny to release the tension he could feel building. “Especially since you didn’t choose it.”

Yes. Yes, exactly. His voice was weak. It didn’t… It didn’t get better. We fought. He begged me to remember, after threatening to kill us both, so I tried to take charge and tell him to do as I said so we would survive, and—and he threatened me right back. He said he had an artifact that would send me back to the Dark World, and… I didn’t want to die, Parker. So I cooperated. I… I hoped, in time, after my anger had died down, that I might still win him over.

He went quiet, for a long moment. 

“I take it you didn’t,” Parker said.

No, Sunny replied, voice hitching. No. I didn’t.

Fuck. "What happened then?" Parker's voice was soft.

He almost got us eaten by wolves, Sunny mumbled.

"What?"

It was a blizzard in the middle of nowhere. He stole a useless rifle, went charging blind into the snow, got chased…

“What the hell?” Parker muttered.

But we got lucky. We found an inn, the Red Right Hand, by sheer fucking luck. And then, because he couldn't control himself, he got himself fucking drunk on some nasty local concoction.

"He drank." Parker's gut twisted.

Yes. A pause. Is that… bad?

"He’d mostly given it up," Parker said quietly. "I convinced him to. He drank way too much after Faroe's death—I told you."

O-oh. Sunny went quiet for a long moment. I… I pushed him to drink. Everyone was… staring at us. He kept talking to himself. To… to me. I didn’t know what else to do to fit in.

“I get it,” Parker whispered. “You didn’t have a whole lot of choice. Appreciate the honesty,” Parker said. He reached back up, pressing his hand to his own cheek. “He could have faked drinking. He could have done a lot of things. Still his choice to swallow. You didn’t know. Okay?”

Fuck, Sunny said, very quietly.

“Hey. You’re alright. I’m not mad,” Parker sighed. “We’re talking facts—history. What happened then?”

He… he rambled about strength and being alive, and quoted some poem at me, and then pretty much passed out. It was so strange. He was strange. He was skin and bones; he looked terrible, smelled terrible. At that point, I really thought he’d get us both killed out of spite, so I… I tried to maybe convince him I was John.

Parker swallowed hard. “Okay. Okay. Bettin’ that didn’t go over too well, though.”

Sunny let out a soft groan. He saw through me like it was nothing. That’s when he revealed he’d lied about the artifact and being able to send me back to the Dark World… and being able to return me to the King. He just… I didn’t know what to do, Parker. I couldn’t trust him, and I couldn’t even see him in a mood stable enough to be able to do anything with it. Anything I said, he fought. It didn’t matter.

“Fuck,” whispered Parker. “That sounds like Arthur after losing his shit, yeah, but… this is worse than I think I’ve ever seen. What the hell happened to him before you got to him?”

I genuinely don’t know. He told me things, but I couldn’t trust anything he said anymore. There was blood everywhere when I woke, Parker. Everywhere, including on him—but the wounds were closed up. His legs… And his throat.

“That’s when he got the neck wound?” said Parker.

Yes. And someone had closed it up. Humans don’t heal that fast. He said… He said ‘he’ wanted him to suffer.

“Doesn’t make a lick of sense,” Parker murmured.

It didn’t. Nothing did. We… we tried to get out of Addison. We needed a car, and Arthur went to find some surveyor who had one, but… the man was missing. Arthur did some detective work, trying to locate him, but then we were attacked by an invisible monster in the woods. The creature nearly killed us, but Jack—Larson’s son—retrieved us, and carried us up the mountain to the Larson estate. That’s when things went… south.

“ That’s when things went south?” Parker said. “How south? Bermuda?”

Worse. I thought we were all right; our clothes were cleaned, our new wounds bandaged. But we heard a woman, sobbing, in the vents of Larson’s house, and Arthur was… irrational about it. Larson finally came and spoke to us, telling us he was Andrew—a fictional descendant to handle rumors of his longevity—and he seemed friendly. Honest. Sunny paused, and when he spoke again, shame tinted his words. I… I believed him. Arthur didn’t, and… and while we were discussing it, we heard Jack kill the crying woman. We knew it was Jack because… Larson told us.

“Jesus.” Parker took a moment to rub his face, to run his fingers through his hair and pull it away from his eyes. “Jesus fuck. He just fuckin’ admitted it?”

Yes. He… he admitted he had Jack kill her. Arthur went crazy again. We made an insane escape through a window over a cliff. We found a dead body in a bed, and when Arthur touched it, I… I saw how they died.

“What?” said Parker, startled.

That hasn’t happened with you. It seems to be something unique to Arthur.

“What in fuck?” Parker murmured. “He’s got magic powers?”

I don’t know. Sunny sounded fearful.

Parker stroked his jaw. “It’s okay. You don’t have to know. So what happened then?”

I think I may have… Seen a flash of the Arthur you knew.

“You did?” Parker straightened. “What happened?”

I apologized to Arthur for lashing out at him. Though it made no sense, though we hadn’t gotten along at all, he… he seemed to accept my apology.

Parker sighed. “Yeah. He always was a sucker for a good apology. That’s… That’s good? I think that’s good.”

It… it felt like I was finally getting somewhere. Sunny mumbled. I didn’t want to fight with him, Parker. I really didn’t. 

“I know. I believe you,” Parker said, brushing the curve of his jaw once again.

I just… I want you to remember that. Because we got caught. We’d escaped, and we’d talked, and we’d investigated, and I thought things might get better, and we might get out of there, but Jack caught us. He knocked Arthur out, brought us down to the dining room, tied us to a chair, and… and when Arthur woke up, he was weeping. And he told me about… about Faust.

“Faust?”

Their throat tightened. Parker’s tongue twitched in their mouth. Before I came to him. When he was still with John. When the King had them… captured, thrown into something called the prison pits, Arthur was starving, and the King threw another prisoner in with them. The man was a murderer; a cannibal, who planned—Arthur said—to kill and eat him.  Instead… instead, Arthur killed him, murdered him by crushing his eyes with his thumbs just like he did to Jack later, and confessed to me he… he ate Faust. 

Parker sat right down on the garden path, right on the ground, like his strings had been cut.

Parker? Sunny whimpered.

“Just… I need a second. You’re good, bud. You’re okay. I just need a second.” His voice sounded like he’d been strangled.

Their tongue twitched again.

“It’s okay,” Parker whispered, though it obviously wasn’t. “Go on.”

Sunny sat in unsteady silence for a moment before he could. It was like he was confessing this to me before we died , and I just… Sunny let out a sob. I had done my best, and he’d still... what was the point? What was the fucking point? This man, this murderer, had ripped me away from my godhood and imprisoned me within him, threatened me into cooperation, lied, and then when I thought I might have an understanding with him… he told me that . And then Larson spoke to us, and Larson… Larson knew things Arthur didn’t. He knew of the gods, of their powers, called us superior , and I…

“He knew you were there,” said Parker. “Didn’t he?”

I believe so, Sunny whispered.

“That asshole played you. Didn’t he?”

Sunny let out a sob. Yes. I was swayed immediately. I was angry at Arthur. Angry at the various ways in which he harmed himself, harmed me. Larson punished him for speaking out of turn—Jack did that to his ear. Tore the piece of it off. 

“Fucking hell,” Parker muttered. “Did all his scars come from that house?

Not all, I swear, Sunny said quickly.

Parker touched his lips this time. “I ain’t blaming you.”

Sunny’s voice hitched.

“I ain’t. It’s okay. If you need to stop—”

Sunny would not stop. When it was revealed Larson had sacrificed his daughter, Addison, to one of the gods for his longevity and power, Arthur went completely insane .

Parker got up and began to pace. “He always did when kids were involved. Always,” he said, and his voice was a growl.

Parker, Sunny whispered. Parker, I’m sorry. I should have—I don’t know—

“Just gotta move, bud,” Parker said, running his hands through his hair. “Ain’t mad at you.”

Parker, Sunny whimpered. Please, Parker, I’m sorry. I really am, I—

“Buddy, I’m not angry at you.” There was heat to his words. “Have I ever lied to you?”

No, Sunny said, voice shaky.

“Then trust me,” Parker said. “You told me about the sacrifice before. Remember? And I was fuckin’ mad then. I just… there’s more context now.”

I understand. Sunny’s voice hitched. Is it my fault?

“No, bud. No. Did you kill Larson’s kid? Did you make him kill some woman beneath the house? Fuck, did you throw some cannibal into the pit with Arthur? Fuck, no.” Parker threw his head back and took a deep breath in through his nose, and then hissed it out between his teeth—in for five, out for seven. And again, in for five, out for seven. “You didn’t do any of this, and I don’t hold you accountable.”

I just wanted to go home, Sunny whispered. Larson dangled that in front of me like a lure, and I… I bit down hard. 

Parker let out one final breath. “I know, buddy. I know.”

Sunny was quiet for a long moment before he spoke with a tiny, broken voice. Do… Do you still love me?

“What?” Parker startled, stopping dead in his tracks. “What kind of crazy quest—yes, Sunny. Yes, I still love you. For fuck’s sake, bud, I’m a bit harder than that to shake off. I mean, I thought Arthur strangled me fuckin’ dead and I still love the guy.”

But you… Sunny let out a soft, desperate noise. I… Okay. Okay, yes. I just… You really aren’t mad?

“Not at you. At the King? Yeah. That was fucked up, makes me wonder what else happened that we don’t know about. At Larson? Oh fuck, yeah. I already was, but now… I’m really wondering what to do about that guy.”

…We will need to talk about the King too, Sunny said, voice weak and completely exhausted. But I… I can’t. Not right now.

“That’s alright. We’ve got time.” Parker reached up and gently cupped his jaw, feeling the twitch as Sunny settled into the touch. “You got a hell of an introduction to Arthur. Confirmed several of my suspicions. He’s still got some stuff to answer for, with you, but it sounds like he was still in there, just… this went beyond flipping a switch. It’s like somebody ripped the godsdamned outlet outta the wall and started crossing wires.”

I can agree with that. He was in one hell of a state. Sunny let out a rumbling sigh. Parker?

“Yeah?”

Do you think… Do you think John was part of it? Arthur had told me they’d fought, badly, right before.

“I’m thinking so, more and more,” Parker said quietly. “I don’t know what’s going on with that just yet. But we’ll figure it out. Okay?”

Okay. Partner.

“This can’t have been too easy to say. Thank you, partner. This was valuable. Important.” Parker gently patted his cheek. “You gonna be okay for dinner tomorrow?”

I… I think so. I’ll be quiet, but… I just don’t know how to talk to him. I don’t want to. I thought I could move on, but seeing him again, I…

“Yeah, I understand that.” More than Sunny could ever really know. “Don’t worry; I’ll take point on that one. You just sit back and listen for me, so I can double-check theories later. Sound good?”

Sounds good. He slipped into silence for a long moment. Parker?

“Yeah, bud?”

Thank you. I… I love you.

“Anytime, bud. Love you too,” he said, taking a seat back on the bench. The words, still so fresh, did not ease the tension that had twisted his muscles tight, as much as he'd like to watch the fish in the pond until the afternoon light turned rich and golden. Parker got up and walked, pacing the gardens, following every path, and if he moved like an angry wolf while he did, it was effective, because no one—Dancer or servant or anything else—came anywhere near.

[explosionshark]

Okay as promised here's my more thoughts to follow in the Buffy update, A+ series had a great time. "Innocence", "Passion", "I Only Have Eyes For You" and "Becoming" so great, Buffy gets so much good everything for all the big Angel fallout Sarah Michelle Gellar is just always nailing it. Also actually warmed up to Cordyxander wasn't expecting that. Gonna admit wasn't super into Spike at first but I'll tell you into the second half once he was in the wheelchair loved that guy, dunno just wasn't really buying the hype they tried but after taking him down a few notches my kinda guy. RIP Jenny but she got a lot of great stuff loved her, RIP Kendra kinda wish she'd got a bit more for her death. Also I remember back in What's My Line I thought oh a cop who just starts blasting in a school of course she's an assassin but then they do the same thing in Becoming just as regular cops incredible. Also wow they went real hard on the queer coding with Buffy coming out to Joyce in Becoming (this was also a great scene), also a hard unsympathetic turn for Joyce especially in 3x01 with her blaming Giles for Buffy following Joyce's ultimatum, wasn't expecting it so much. Giles also, lotta great stuff, shocker Anthony Stewart Head does good work I know but he was so good in Passion and I Only Have Eyes For You. I didn't think I'd get so into the whole AngelxBuffy romance considering y'know I already knew how it goes but nah its still real good even with that foreknowledge. Also shout out to Willow just having to double as a teacher for the latter half of the series since Jenny died incredible stuff, and good for her getting into the witch phase which is what I mostly knew about her from second hand knowledge, besides that finding out she was gay in the evil mirror verse was part of how she found out she was gay herself.

Also I forgot about that joke about how David Boreanaz can't do an Irish accent and man he can really not do an Irish accent, I remember an episode of Angel where his pre Vampire memories took over or something and they just had him do the American accent, shout out also to Angel being dead and still in the opening credits for series 3 (I've watched one episode so far) really selling me that he's dead forever guys. Also gotta say despite I Only Have Eyes For You being real good, kinda sketchy the whole I dunno if the student being in a relationship with his teacher was handled particularly well. Like I get it yeah for the comparison between Angel and Buffy but directly bringing that in makes that a bit sketch as well, like I'm not gonna complain about age differences with vampire/human romances because its a staple, you can't get away from it they're vampires but if you're directly bringing in the comparisons y'know.

Also glad you mostly enjoyed the song recs, I've been listening to Rise Against since you said The Weight of my Pride is like them meets Fightstar (who I will also get to but I am incapable of checking out music in a way that isn't listening to they're entire discography in a row before trying out another one), they're so good I haven't clicked this hard with a band since I got into Dio and REO Speedwagon, its just banger after banger.

Also gonna go read HerInsectReflections' essays on series 2 like you recced. Will read your Common Ground fic when I get to around about Faith's heel turn I think.

Final last second thought the theme song seems a bit different for series 3? Dunno if I like it as much I'm sure it'll grow on me

Yeah! Definitely read the @herinsectreflection essays, they're really incredible. In particular I think you might enjoy skipping straight to the one she wrote for "I Only Have Eyes for You" since I think it does a really good job dissecting and contextualizing the teacher/student and age gap stuff in that episode while still acknowledging what sucks about it.

I know I've said before that my favorite episodes of Buffy are the ones that are really about other episodes of Buffy but I really mean it and I think you probably know exactly what I mean about that by now. As such, I'm really excited for you to get further into s3 and start getting to the Faith stuff. Very enmeshed with the Angel/Angelus arc.

Anyway fully agree re: Kendra. The show really did her dirty. It's got to be acknowledge that the one way Buffy fails egregiously and repeatedly throughout all 7 seasons in with race. Characters of color and black characters in particular are rarely seen, usually only fulfilling temporary roles, lack the depth and interiority of white characters and are usually victims of some sort of stereotyping. It's a bummer and I wish I could say it gets better but it really doesn't. Huge L!

Re: Spike - honestly yeah, for me he's best when he's kinda just being the buttmonkey.

I think the season 3 theme might be where they ditch the scream? I prefer the scream tbh. But when I watch with my best friend she does it for me, which is very sweet.

Thanks for checking in again! Love your updates! Glad you're having a good time!

[tojisun]

toxic biker! simon is so illicit affairs coded 😔✋🏼 (the taylor swift song)

oh but the way i screamed because YEA!!

i wanted to add more depth to their relationship bc surely the reader isnt holding onto him just bc hes good looking… so, uh, it kinda turned out long (2.4k words) again :’>

!! smut - minors dni; age gap; not a happy ending fr; the bike disappeared i fear 😭 // biker!simon mlist

you get the call in the middle of your date, your phone ringing from the inside of your bag.

your date, johan from your poli-sci class, pauses from his ramblings, his voice trailing off as the comfortable buzz between the two of you is broken by the familiar ringtone of your phone.

you shoot him an apologetic gaze and he just shakes his head with a gentle chuckle, understanding shining from his eyes before he turns to his drink – lemon snaps, of all things – to give you privacy. you fumble for your blaring phone, your brows furrowed in displeasure as you fish it out, only to feel something akin to a cold shower dousing you as you see the name.

you freeze, steady hands beginning to tremble as you continue to stare at the caller ID: si <3

“…won’t you answer that?” johan asks, ripping you from the startling silence of your thoughts.

“huh?” you say unintelligibly, your mind still reeling over, before you blink the haze away and focus on johan, seeing his pretty eyes watching you with worry.

oh, johan.

“yeah, uh, no, actually. it’s no one important, really.”

the stammer of your speech clearly didn’t slip from his notice but johan doesn’t probe, noting the sudden discomfort lining your body, and nods distractedly.

the ringing of your phone stops, finally, and you feel a whole lot lighter at simon’s absence. you place your phone on the table, turned over so that it’s facing down, still, johan’s eyes flick to it, teeth nibbling his bottom lip.

your fingers twitch, ready to pluck it out and stuff it back in your clutch, but it blares again, ringing and vibrating. johan shoots you a pointed look and you smile, pinched lips, before finally answering the call.

“can’t talk right now-”

“y’look good in that dress, baby.”

simon’s words make you breathe in sharply, the simmering dread snuffed out as your heart lodges itself in your throat, taking its rightful space every time simon calls you; every time simon comes looking for you – a pretence of his loyalty, one that pushes you to make a fool out of yourself. your chest feels airy, bubbling with desire and confusion, your stomach flipping, and you wonder if johan can see the change in your aura. if he can see the way your eyes gloss over because of simon.

then, simon’s words sink in.

“what?”

simon laughs from the other end. “yeah,” he says. “walked into the restaurant with a date but i had to ditch her because, well, look at you, sweetheart. who needs her when i have someone here who likes me better? who knows me better?”

you lifted your head up and straightened your back in hopes of finding him past the throngs of people; your eyes jump between customers, skirting past walkways and shadowed corners, but he’s nowhere to be seen.

another tease. another moment where he’s lifted your hopes up for nothing.

“i can’t do this right now,” you mumble as you sag back down into your seat, turning your head away from johan’s worried eyes.

simon hums, the sound falling flat, and your fingers twitch at the quiet disappointment tinging his voice.

“‘course you can, darling. y’r a big girl – surely you can manage a phone call, yeah?”

“i’m busy, si,” you reply, flicking your up eyes at johan, startling when you see him looking back at you already. johan continues to watch you with worry and you shake your head at him lightly, hoping he won’t probe after this impossible phone call.

(you know you won’t stay long enough for a conversation after this.)

“can’t you ditch ‘im for me, baby?”

that rips out a muted gasp from your lips, the sound tumbling into the table and piercing through the static within the line of the call. you hear the change in simon’s voice, the pathetic whispers turning into elated rumblings because he already knows that you will. he knows that you really can’t deny him of anything.

but you’re moving too slow for his liking so he adds, “i missed you.”

“oh,” you say because what else is there to say? “…okay.”

“s’my good girl,” simon purrs. “i’ll wait for you from across the street by the coffeehouse, yeah? see you soon, love.”

the call drops, a sharp click ringing, before silence.

your heart is hammering in your chest, thudding against the creaking of your ribs, and you look at johan as your hand falls to the table.

“johan, i-” the words feel like knives as they edge up into your throat. johan stays silent, patiently waiting for the inevitable end. “i have to go, i’m sorry.”

he nods and attempts a kind smile. it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “i see.”

“i’ll pay for the tab-”

“don’t worry,” he replies, reaching out a hand to place it on top of your loosely-closed fist, his palm gently striking the back of your phone. “i got it.”

you nod softly, not knowing what else to say. he watches as you pack your phone into your bag and slip your coat on before sliding out of the booth.

you lick your lips, noting how dry it is, before murmuring, “i had fun today.”

johan laughs, the sound so empty of humour. then, just as quietly, he says, “me too.” he stares at you for a second longer. “see you on monday?”

you nod. “see you.”

you turn and walk out of the restaurant, johan’s sad eyes fading from your mind as the cool air hits your face, reminding you why you’re leaving the cozy restaurant in the first place.

you melt into your coat, hunching your shoulders in a futile attempt at coaxing more warmth to engulf you, before making your way towards crosswalk. you try to keep the excitement at bay as you stroll along the shops, packed with customers who are hoping to escape the cool air, but how could you ever contain yourself?

it’s simon.

(you think of his name as though it is a prayer – a plea – dripping with reverence and weight. laughable, isn’t it? how you think simon may love you back?)

you see him standing outside of the coffeehouse, waiting, and the elation – the one that filled you up until it threatened to spit your heart out – fades into a stuttering silence. because he’s waiting outside. and you already know what he wants.

“baby,” is all he says before closing the distance between the two of you, his hand coming up to swipe at your hair and cup your cheek, his thumbs sliding just underneath your eyes. you feel him wipe some of your makeup off but he continues to just look at you with those crinkled eyes and that little smile and you wonder, gods you never stop wondering, if maybe he wants you for something else.

something that isn’t temporary.

“hey,” you murmur back, ducking your eyes down as the intensity of his attention reduces you back into a state of fumbling and shyness.

simon chuckles, a sound so adoring it almost fooled you.

“wanna take this somewhere else?” he asks even though the two of you already know the answer.

you give him a short nod, your eyes still trained to your shoes, and you hear, more than see, the way he bends down before feeling his lips press on the top of your head.

your eyes flutter close as the emotions spill over because, surely, this means something to him too?

———

warm palms tear off your tights, the echoing rips making you hiccup. you fist at the sheets, watching as simon fixes himself between your legs, chapped lips trailing hot kisses along the inside of your thighs.

he flicks his eyes up at you and they crinkle, full of mirth, and you don’t even have to see his lips to know he is smirking.

“beautiful,” simon whispers, his voice packed with affection that it tickles the core of your heart and spreads through your veins like fire. he huffs a fond laugh, nosing along the pudge of your muscle. “beautiful and mine.”

you nod with a quiet ragged gasp and simon coos at your response. “‘s right,” he says. “all mine.”

the way he drags your panties off is teasingly slow but simon looks far gone, existing in a bubble of drawing out the moment until you are splintering from the pleasure – you know how he does it, you remember it well after all. still, you let out a whine, hoping that it’d tug at his heartstrings and make him move faster.

it doesn’t. simon just lets out a pleased chuckle. “shh, baby. i’ve got you.”

you trust him with your pleasure, gods you even foolishly trust him with your heart, so you nod, letting go of the sheets to brush at the beautiful strands of his hair, making him purr.

“feels good?” you ask, wincing at hearing the croak of your voice.

simon hums, the sound pressed on your skin, his eyes slipping shut for a moment.

you wish he could be just as vulnerable in front of you without having the need to fuck you, but simon has fully removed your panties from your heat, sliding them off your legs, before chucking them behind him.

you hiss at the touch of cool air against your pussy, your muscles jolting at the new feeling. simon shushes you gently again, careful as he climbs up higher, folding your legs over your chest, until all that you are is exposed to him.

“si…” you say, breath hitching at the smile he shoots at you – it is all so kind, so boyishly charming, and you feel pinpricks building in the back of your eyes, your heart squeezing with the intensity of your feelings.

“i’ve got you,” he repeats. a promise, one that is only fulfilled tonight, but simon gazes at you as though he means it. “i always will, sweetheart.”

the first kiss is soft, brushing his lips against your own. no rush, no heat, just breaths being passed to each other, like you two only exist in this moment. and it is here that the tears fall, trickling from the corners of your eyes and staining your cheeks.

you rasp a hitching breath, one that simon returns, and the kiss turns into a fervid tangle, nipping teeth and claiming lips twining until you don’t know where you end and where he begins.

he holds your hands when he finally slides his cock into you, slow thrusts pushing more and more of him until his pelvis is flushed against yours. you mewl and whimper, feeling light headed from the fullness in your heat, every length of his cock pressing against the warm walls of your pussy.

simon dives down to kiss you, swallowing your gasps and moans and exchanging them with his own. you twitch and mewl, your back lifting off of the bed, and simon’s there to catch them all. tenderly caressing you, making love to you.

“si! si!” you cry, not knowing what else to say. not knowing how else to tell him of your pleasure. of your love.

“my love, my baby, all mine,” simon responds, pressing his grunts on your collarbone, muffling himself. his teeth leave marks on your skin, claiming you for himself again.

like you could ever be someone else’s.

his hand toys with your clit, rubbing and pinching, while the other keeps holding onto your own – warm palm against warm palm, thick fingers locked with bony ones.

he is so clingy. so greedy. always touching a sliver of your skin, desperately rutting his cock into you, licking a hungry stripe on your tits before sucking on your nipples all needy.

it’s too intense – his love making. his love.

“simon, i-!” you squeal, heels digging into the sheets. “i- i love-!”

your pleasure builds, tipping, before spilling over into a euphoric razing. your eyes roll into the back of your head, your lips parting for a silent scream, and simon moans at feeling your walls spasm around his cock.

good. so good!

(but what you wanted to say was—…)

simon cums in you, hot splashes making you squeak, your muscles tensing at the overstimulation. simon kisses apologies on your skin, nuzzling his nose along your throat.

he lifts his head up and bumps his forehead on yours. “so good to me, baby. so fuckin’ good to me.”

“simon, i-”

“shh,” he murmurs, pressing his lips on yours. you know this one isn’t a kiss, or not one anymore. “i know.”

oh.

“oh,” you repeat out loud, looking straight at him, blurry vision be damned.

simon wraps you in his arms as though it is a good alternative to hearing the words you wish he would say. you bury your face on his chest, and the two of you pretend that you have stopped crying.

———

simon doesn’t drop you off.

his love ended the moment he came in you. sure you two bathed together, and he helped you out with the body soap, and he tied your shoes for you – kissing your bare thigh as an apology for your ruined tights – but that was it.

no love. no truth behind the softness.

“bye, simon,” you mumble, your fist loose around the door handle. a part of you hopes he’ll call your name and plead for you to stay. plead for you to just exist in this hotel room with him. no pretences, no labels.

just you and simon.

but simon just leans on the wall and smiles at you, detached and distant once again.

“bye, kid,” he says.

not baby. not sweetheart. not darling or love or his sweet girl.

just, ‘kid’.

you turn around and pull the door open, stepping into the empty hallway. the door swings behind you silently, before thudding against the door frame, and clicking as it automatically locks.

and just like that, it’s over.

another waiting game. another foolish mistake.

you bite your bottom lip to stop the tears before marching away from the door, hoping that the sounds of your shoes against the worn out carpet echo in the room that you are leaving, and that it haunts simon too.

———

(he is invited over to your home for your parent’s dinner party in the following week. curled by his side is a beautiful girl, one who isn’t any older than you are.

johan holds your hand as you introduce him to your parents as your date.

you ignore simon’s piercing eyes as you and johan leave for a separate date, somewhere that simon wouldn’t be able to reach this time.)

oh but i enjoyed wring this one too much

[tojipie]

prison bf series linked here !

hii ! not rly phone sex, but sex nonetheless. i’m rly loving this series <33 prison toji unboxing fic coming someday in the distant future.

content: nsfw + phone sex

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the sudden vibrations of your phone’s ringer rips you from the boundary between sleep and awareness. you groggily reach for the device from it’s place under your pillow, clicking the off button twice to end the call.

the number rings again, then a third time before you finally pick up, ready to tear into the poor soul on the other line. it’s a facetime call from an area code you don’t recognize, probably just a misdial if you’re lucky.

you hesitantly accept and tilt the camera towards the ceiling, shielding your face from the stranger.

“hello..?” you mumble sleepily, trying to get a good look at your phone without revealing too much of yourself. the person’s screen is grainy from the lack of light, probably calling you on an older model.

the stranger’s camera pans down, revealing familiar tufts of straight raven hair. toji stares up at you from his bunk, shirtless with the sheets bunched up to his chest.

“you too good to pick up the phone now?” he asks, clearly teasing. the inmate’s voice is quiet, coming out in choppy rivets as his dated microphone picks up what it can.

“toji!?” you whisper scream, sitting up to turn your beside lamp on. the additional light helps illuminate your figure better, you notice his eyes perk up at the clearer sight of you.

“mmmh, happy to see you babydoll.” he grins, leaning closer to get a good look at you. your eyes are puffy with the promise of rest, giving you that extra bought of softness he loves so much.

“oh shit, were you sleeping? m’ sorry.”

he doesn’t sound sorry at all.

“nono i’m awake.” you reassure the older man, taking in the sight of him laid out on the narrow cot. your boyfriend had aged since the beginning of his sentence, though you figure that’s not out of the ordinary for someone serving time. “how’d you even get a phone?”

“s’ a secret.” he muses, clearly finding the situation amusing. “i get to talk to my baby though, isn’t that nice?” he states plainly, shifting to prop his head up with his hand.

“it is, actually.” you mumble apologetically, feeling bad at your initial lack of a greeting. “m’ happy you called me.”

you pause, choosing your next words carefully “don’t you have bunkmates?” you wonder, searching the background for any signs of other men in the dark cell. the promise of being ratted out by a cell mate was one that wouldn’t end well for either of you.

“nah, lawyers said i’m too dangerous to be staying in D-block with everyone.” he states boredly, shifting again to lie on his back with a grunt.

“wh— are you serious?” you whine, already mulling over the countless conversations you’ve had with him regarding his nasty fighting habit.

“pfttt, no?” the inmate chuckles, throwing his head back with a hearty laugh. “last guy in the cell got out on wednesday, ‘s just me in here till’ my sentence is up.”

he stills, looking you up and down quickly.

"fuck." he grumbles, you look real pretty right now."

you sigh in relief, ignoring the compliment to continue grilling him. “so you’ve been getting along with people?” you ask, skill skeptical.

“you know—hah- how i am.” he tells you, clearing his throat before continuing. the screen begins to wobble a little, blurring his figure for a moment. “when have i —fuck- ever been out of line, huh? ”

“i think you were pretty out of line when you went to fucking jail.” you tease, pausing to analyze his hurried breaths on the other line.

“toji? do you feel ok?” you ask, wishing you were there to check up on him.

“yeah—mmgh- why? his camera starts to pan up shakily, phone slipping from his hand. the last of his facade shatters as a pleased groan rings out in the tiny cell.

“fuck.” he whines, “fuck— oh my god. you’re gonna make me fucking cum.”

“show me.” you command, finally piecing everything together.

the older man flips the camera and brings it right up to his hard cock, stroking it from the base up with vigor.

his tip is an angry pink, weeping milky precum down his shaft to glaze his knuckles. the sounds coming from your phone are absolutely filthy, a hot mix of pants, groans and expletives .

“oh my god.” you giggle, propping your phone up to watch better. “is that all for me?” the dips and hills of his abs jolt as he laughs.

“all for you.” he pants, bucking his hips up every time his fist meets his tip.

“is this why you called me?” you tease, watching his cock bob back and forth in his hand. the older man stops to thumb his slit, massaging milky pre into the tip before starting up again. “you just wanted to get off? didn’t wanna talk to me or nothing?”

“no—hah. i mean—.” he groans, clearly too out of it to answer. “fuck. fuck i’m close.”

you squeeze your legs together to quell the ache between your thighs, content to just watch him enjoy himself.

sharing a room with 4 other people means little to no time alone, that much you knew from your visits. it wasn’t rare for him to pitch a tent during your supervised phone calls, squeezing his cock behind a glass barrier while you gushed about your day.

a hearty groan knocks your train of thought loose as ropes of cum stream down his knuckles and onto the sheets. you watch in awe as he milks his dick, slapping it onto his stomach for the added simulation.

you wait until his breaths even out to speak, watching him grab a towel from off camera to clean himself up.

“feel better?” you ask, so badly wishing you were there to kiss him in the midst of his afterglow.

“so much better.” he sighs, shifting to lay on his side again.

“they definitely heard you. i mean those rooms don’t have doors right?”

“of course they fucking have doors.” he grumbles, clearly embarrassed at the thought of getting caught dick-in-hand.

“did you..” he trails off, rubbing his eyes with a soft yawn.

“too tired.” you state plainly, shifting the focus from your pleasure to his.

“i don’t deserve you.” he mumbles, dark eyes barely open.

“course you do baby.” you whisper. “you wanna head to bed? i’m coming up on thursday to visit.”

“you are?” the excitement in his voice is adorable.

“mhm, might even bring you a charger for that piece of shit burner you swiped.”

the jab earns you a booming laugh, lulling you back to the precipice of sleep.

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tag list ! <3 🏷️

@honeybee54321 @m150-50up @kuryoomi @t4naiis @serendippindots @sillyalo @levixbby @powerrwa

[missmonsters2]

The Colliding Tides of You | Part 1

Pairings: [AVENGERS x Bi!READER ]

- WandaNat x Reader

- Stucky x Reader

- Tony Stark x Reader

Summary: You hadn't known what happened. One moment, you were running for your life. The next moment, you were falling from the sky and your only hope was calling the one number you had to save you. You were in a universe where the Avengers existed and you had no idea what to do. You fight between doing what's right and what feels right. Do you return to your own universe or do you stay with the people you love? [Set after AoU and canon divergence after.]

Chapter Warnings: None.

Series Masterlist

Note: Ahhh, I'm so excited for this! I've been lowkey obsessed with avengers x reader for a long time LOL hope you enjoy!

Count: ~2.4k

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You'd never given much thought to how you'd die. Well, sure, it was a vague and distant thought. Everyone dies, after all. You're aware that life could come crashing into you, and it could be a horrific accident, but you were hoping for the old age route. 

You were running.

You remember that much.

You had been terrified as you stumbled. You turned to look, and then everything turned white. 

And now, you were falling. 

The wind ripped through your hair, burning your eyes. You turned around to look up at the sky instead of the impending ground. 

God, you were so high up, and you had no fucking parachute. No gear. 

You felt around your body frantically, wanting to cry when you felt nothing until your hand grazed over a bump in your back pocket—a phone.

You took it out quickly but carefully. The last thing you needed was to accidentally drop the phone midair and have no way to get it. You fumbled to turn it on and noticed you only had 10% battery left and almost wanted to cry. 

You recognized your own phone. It had been at 10% when you had been running as well. 

Your thoughts were a mess. 

Who do you call when you're falling 50,000ft in the air?

911?

What could 911 do? Could they send a helicopter for someone to come get you with a parachute? 

Would they make it in time?

But when you opened up your contacts, there was only one number.

No.

This couldn't be. 

But the name and number stared back at you. 

It had to be a joke, right?

You didn't recognize the number other than it being a New York area code.

Maybe it's from being so high up in the air, the falling hindering how well you could breathe and get oxygen to your brain. 

That was the only explanation you could think of for thinking—but what if it wasn't a joke? What if it was real?

It was probably a mistake to call this number instead of 911, but—but if it was real, you're chancing of being saved would be higher.

You pressed dial on the contact and put it to your ear, shocked you were even picking up reception. 

Unless that meant you were getting closer to the ground. 

"Hello?" The caller picked up, sounding cautious and confused. "How did you get this number?"

"Is—" You choked. The air was so hard to breathe, and you wondered if your lungs were collapsing. It was so hard to hear on top of that too. Were you going deaf?

"Is this Tony Stark?" You barely managed to get out the words as you heaved for air that didn't seem to be making it to your lungs. 

"Yes...who is this?" 

You could hear some noise in the background and wondered briefly what he was doing. 

"Please help me," you choked. "I'm falling."

There was snort on the other line. "That's a horrible pick-up line and also really bad background noise. Listen, I don't know if you're some crazy stalker but—"

"No, seriously, Mr. Stark. I'm literally falling from 50,000ft in the air, and I don't have a parachute, and I will become splattered brain matter if you don't help me," you started coughing violently as you finished your words.

There was silence on the other end of the line before you could hear—

"FRIDAY, scan the surrounding area and trace the closest cell tower to her phone."

"Detected body 50 feet from you. Too far to scan vitals."

"Maximize jet boots and repulsors. Hold on, kid. I'm coming for you."

But you couldn't hear anything at that point. The oxygen deprivation was getting to your head as you fought to stay awake. 

It feels like a million years but really, only seconds before you're in someone's arms.

"Easy there, I got you...alright, wow, you're definitely not a kid."

He's flying down steadily for your sake. Slower but still quickly, so you don't stay oxygen-deprived. As you descend, you suddenly feel something click over your head and a rush of oxygen floods in. You suck the air in greedily as you try to not hyperventilate.

"Easy, easy. Breathe slowly."

You tilted your head up and found an Iron Man Mask looking back at you and realized you're wearing one yourself. He must've called for a spare helmet for you.

You try to do as he says and breathe slowly, and you begin to feel better even though the chill starts to set in. 

"Where...are....you...taking...me?" You speak slowly, your voice raw and weak. 

"Back to the Avengers' Compound. We have a medi-bay there that's way better than any other hospital in the state. Plus, I’ve got questions."

You don't have the energy to argue against it, and you're unsure if you would. Even though Tony Stark didn't know you, you knew him. He was the only thing you knew in this strange universe you've found yourself in. 

You look down at your hands and find they're still yours, at least. You're still you.

Just.

Maybe the You of this universe. 

⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷⋆⊶⊷⊶⊷⊶⊷

You slowly woke up to a quiet beeping noise. The lights were somewhat bleary and blinded you. You had a massive headache, and when you looked down to find an IV hooked up to you, you felt your heart jump.

You could feel a nasal cannula on your face, and you tried to think about why you'd have one.

Falling.

You had been falling.

You couldn't breathe.

You were trying to fight the rising panic in your limbs and throat. Your heart was racing and thudding almost painfully in your chest.

"Whoa, easy there, tiger."

You snapped your head to the side and found Tony Stark coming through the door with two cups. You could smell coffee.

"FRIDAY alerted me you had woken up. How are you feeling?"

You stared at him, tracing his movements carefully as he came to sit down beside you in the chair. He holds the water out to you, but you don't take it, so he then pulls over a tray in front of you and places your cup there.

You peer down and see that yours was filled with water while his cup was coffee. 

You take the cup, sipping on the cool water, wincing lightly as it does down your dry throat.

"Okay...tired," you eventually replied as you looked around.

"You're at the Avenger's Compound," Tony said as he looked at your curious face, and you recalled that's where he said when he was flying you to safety.

"You were really lucky I was out and about flying to get fresh air," Tony said steadily, his eyes narrowed in suspicion at you. "How did you get my number? That's my private and personal number. Only a few people have it. I've only just given it to Capsicle."

You stare at him.

"Ugh, Captain America? America's golden boy? Steve Rog—"

"I know," you whisper, fidgeting with your cup.

"You know..." Tony repeated after you with a brow raised. "Do you know all of the Avengers?"

"Doesn't everyone?" You reply with a half-hearted smile. 

Tony narrowed his eyes at you, filled with suspicion and clearly saying he didn't appreciate you avoiding his question. You couldn't blame him. If this was the Avengers' Compound, you had some idea of where you were in the timeline.

You looked at Tony's face and how weary and tired he looked. The facilities looked new, so you could only guess this was right after the battle of Sokovia. 

The thought made you rather sad as you looked back down. This meant that things were leading up to the Civil War, and you weren't sure how you felt about that.

You weren't sure how you felt about anything. 

Your thoughts kept racing.

How did you get here?

How was this real?

Had you actually died?

How do you get back home?

Did you even want to go back home?

People were chasing you there. 

Were you safe?

You looked back at Tony.

You were safe, you decided. For now, at least.

"I...don't belong here," you say quietly but still loud enough for Tony to hear. 

"Don't belong here..." Tony cocked his brow. "Here like this medical bay...or in New York or..."

"Here, like this universe," you whispered, grimacing at how stupid it sounded, but you're unsure why when someone like Dr. Strange existed. He would understand.

Tony actually laughed. 

"Wow, maybe this isn’t pumping enough oxygen to your brain still," Tony looked ready to adjust your machine when you glared at him.

"Is that so hard to believe when you've fought aliens? You don't even know—" you immediately snapped your mouth shut as you huffed.

You don't know the laws of the universe and time travel. How good could it be to reveal what was coming to someone like Tony, who was experiencing PTSD, paranoia, and guilt?

"Are you an alien then?" Tony asked slowly, eyeing you up and down to access you. You looked so human, though.

"No," you said, though it sounded very uncertain. "No," you repeated this time with more confidence. You weren't an alien. You were a human that experienced too much. 

Perhaps you and Tony weren't too different. 

"Can I get your name now?" Tony asked, changing the subject, but not really. You knew he was asking to see if he could pull up anything on you.

But you tell him anyway. You were curious about yourself as well.

"I'm Tony, but I think you knew that," Tony throws out there, but he's not smiling.

"You mean the genius, billionaire, playboy, philanthropist...?" You say and give a small smile when Tony's lip twitches as he holds back a grin himself. But then he frowns as he wonders where you've heard him say that. 

Suddenly, something beeped, making you jump slightly, spilling some of the water. 

Tony just eyes you briefly before he checks his phone. 

"The rest of them are here."

"The rest of them?" 

"The Avengers."

You pale noticeably that it has Tony looking slightly alarmed.

"What's wrong?" He asks, but you just shake your head.

You find it hard to swallow again, but people are bustling in to your room before you can even ask him to maybe save the introductions another day. 

The faces bombard you before you even have a chance to turn away. 

Steve, Natasha, Wanda, Vision, and Clint. 

It's Steve's and Natasha's faces that make you feel like you're going to be sick.

You feel sick to your stomach because you know what happens.

And even if you had not experienced it personally, it didn't mean you hadn't come to love these characters—people in your own way. 

You had loved them from a distance.

You had been immersed in their universe when you were on your own and even when you were surrounded by people. 

So, to know what happens and see them, you were going to be sick. 

You were still adjusting to Tony, and just barely. 

It was too much. 

It was too real. 

The only thing you could think of was how painful and disappointing it had been to know what happened by just reading and watching. If it had been that painful, how would it be to actually experience it personally?

You gripped your blanket, trying to control your breathing as you looked away from them.

"Uh, Tony, is she okay?" Steve asked as he assessed you, but you wouldn't turn to look his way.

Your heart monitor was spiking, and it was suddenly hard to breathe again.

Was this a panic attack? You thought about it distantly, trying to think about something else to calm yourself.

"Hey, hey," Tony stood up as he looked at your monitor before you. "What's wrong? What's—" Tony tried to put his hand on your shoulder, but you flinched.

"Get out," you breathed, your chest rising and falling.

"What?" Tony said, but you couldn't even look at him.

"GET OUT!" You screamed. 

Natasha's the one who pulls everyone out of the room and shuts the door as you close your eyes and try to think about something else and slow your breathing.

You have 10 fingers and 10 toes.

You can smell the coffee that Tony left behind. 

You could see the little squiggly lines behind your eyelids.

You could taste your own mouth, which was gross, but it was better after the water.

You could feel the soft sheets under your fingers and wondered if it was because this was practically Tony's private medi-bay that it was so luxurious. 

Slowly, you began to calm down, the oxygen from the nasal cannula helped greatly, and you pressed your palm to your eye. 

That was so embarrassing. 

You were losing your shit over fictional people.

Except, they weren't.

Not anymore, not in this universe. 

You were feeling too much at once.

Scared.

Betrayed.

Upset.

Cautiously elated. 

But mostly just anxious.

One step at a time, you told yourself. Figure out the situation now, and then think about what you will do after understanding what's happening now. 

You take a few more moments to collect yourself, preparing to see everyone again. 

They were strangers.

They didn't know you, and you didn't know them. No amount of comics and movies could ever change the fact they were real people and have their own nuances you didn't know about.

You press the help button at the side of your bed and wait patiently. 

Tony is the one to stick his head back in first, cautiously. 

You nodded at him, and he came through slowly, and you feel bad. 

"I'm sorry," you apologize, but Tony just shrugs, and you know he gets it. 

"I can just tell everyone to go back if you just want to rest today. I'm afraid you can't leave here until things are settled though," Tony says, and you can tell he's trying to be sympathetic about keeping you here, but you can tell he's not. 

You don't mind. 

Mostly because you have nowhere to go.

Or maybe you did but just didn't know where it was?

"No, it's fine," you shook your head. "I'd rather get it over with now."

"Are you sure about that?" Tony narrowed his eyes at you. 

You nodded, and he relented. 

"Alright,” he hummed. “ Meet the Avengers."

Part 2