#i was supposed to do this for 100 followers but it ticked over before i could screenshot LOL

[horse-head-farms]

over 100 followers! aww yeah!!! making hypxb less of a rarepair one post at a time

[yunhoszn]

motive

PAIRING choi san x f!reader

WORD COUNT 3.37k

GENRES kinda fluff ig﹒smut

WARNINGS 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, mature language, friends to lovers, reader is lowkey down horrendous, but san is too i guess, um tbh this is just porn with minimal plot… 😭, reader gets jealous, Tension, i can’t think of anything else for the tame aspect so, making out, exhibitionism, soft dom!san, marking-ish, scratching, vaginal fingering, multiple orgasms, they’re like kinda clumsy in the way that everything is a fucking joke to them, actually a lot of kissing, san’s a sweet talker, public sex, shower sex, unprotected sex (pls be safe), creampie, cutesy ending

SUMMARY it’s annoying that your gym partner constantly gets flirted with right in front of you, especially when you have a crush on said gym partner. good thing your gym partner has a crush on you, too.

MORE HELLO oh my god okay, this is my first written fic on this blog and im actually so nervous posting it… but fuck it! we ball! this wasn’t originally the first fic i was gonna post but,,, the other one is still marinating in the drafts so you get mr. choi san instead <3 ALSO THANK U SM FOR 100 FOLLOWERS HELLO. my blog is 2 weeks old that’s insanity 🤕 big thank u to the loml @kimsohn for betaing for me ilysm maya <<3 pls reblog if u enjoyed and pls moot me :( i need more atiny friends 💔

“Wow, San, you’re so strong,”

You scoff to yourself as you watch the trio of girls surround him, dainty fingers touching anywhere they can. He laughs sheepishly, shifting his seat on the weight bench. You think it’s funny, really, the fact that he was eating up their attention and acting like he was so shy about it. He was supposed to be your gym partner. 

With a small grunt, you take the dumbbells in front of you and focus on your form in the mirror. You make attempt after attempt to ignore the commotion behind you, but ultimately fail. How could you not stare with all the obnoxious giggling? Even as you lunge, eyes zeroed in on the perfect 90° angle your legs make, you can still make out the group’s reflection in the mirror. 

Every drag of a manicured nail along his bicep, each twirl of hair, it was pissing you off. You had no real right to be mad, though. It’s not like San was your boyfriend or anything. You were just friends, and he’d volunteered to help you out when you mentioned struggling at the gym. What started as him spotting you when needed and giving tips to help improve your workouts, turned into waiting around for him to stop flirting with the girls who flocked over to him. 

Maybe you were being a bit dramatic. It’s not like this happened every time you came to the gym, but it was enough to be irritating. There was also a very high probability that it ticked you off so much because you had a crush on San yourself. Your infatuation was less superficial, however. Yes, he was an attractive man, that was one fact that couldn’t be refuted, but there was more to him than his big muscles and handsome face.

You’d known San since you met in your first year Anthropology course. This was way before he started hitting the gym and building his physique. He used to be this thin, pretty boy. Girls thought he was cute, but that was about it. No one was jumping at the chance to ask him out, or giggling at his every word. No one except for you.

He was not only cute, but he was sweet and funny and just about every good quality you could think of. You didn’t want to be one of those people who thought you were special because you knew him before his insane bodily transformation, though in a way you were. San was your good friend above anything else, and you had a fear instilled in you that that’s all he would ever be. The idea made your stomach churn.

”Do you think you could bench me?”

A sigh pushes past your lips when you see one of the girls get a little closer to him. You’re over working out at this point, ready to just call it a day and go home. What were you doing here if your partner was going to ignore you the entire time? You set the dumbbells back on their respective rack, grabbing your phone and water bottle while simultaneously turning up the volume on your headphones to drown out everything around you. 

You don’t bother telling San that you’re leaving, making your way into the changing rooms to grab the rest of your things from your locker. The frown etched onto your face as you do so serves as a reminder that he would never see you in that way. Perhaps you were perpetually stuck as the girl space friend. With a giant emphasis on the space. 

There’s a gentle grasp around your wrist, making you jump in surprise. You turn around with wide eyes, pushing your headphones off your ears. San stares back at you with an unreadable expression, lips slightly pursed.

”God, San, you almost gave me a heart attack,” you hold a hand to your chest, heaving up and down a little.

”I tried calling your name, but you didn’t hear me,” he shrugs, releasing your arm and shoving his hands into the pockets of his athletic shorts. “Why didn’t you tell me you were ready to leave?”

”You looked busy.” Really, you wanted to hide the jealousy and bitterness from your tone, but ultimately failed, even throwing in an unintentional scrunch of your nose. It feels like your heart dropped to your stomach, resembling a prey caught by its predator when you realize the connotation behind your words.

San smiles at you, a smug grin that’s so out of character for him, you’re a little nervous now. He takes a step forward and you back up until you reach the lockers, one of his hands coming up to rest on the surface near your head. A small chuckle breaches the sound barrier, his eyes drinking in your figure like he might never get the opportunity to do it again. “Y/N… are you jealous?”

Instinctively, you shake your head. What he doesn’t know can’t kill him. But then he’s raising an eyebrow in question and you feel like a puppy with its tail between its legs. You blink up at him, nails digging into your palms to keep your composure. “Should I be?”

His tongue darts out to wet his lips, that same cocky smirk on his features. He knows what he’s doing, you think to yourself. He has you cornered and he’s using it to his advantage. The hand that isn’t holding his weight comes up to your face, fingers gliding along your jaw with a feather light touch. “No, I don’t think so. The only girl who’s attention I really care about is right where I want her.”

Your breathing stutters, halting in your throat and momentarily winding you. Choi San might very well be the death of you. Especially with that darkened look in his eyes, the chocolate brown color now resembling the night sky. His thumb swipes across your lower lip, letting it resume its original place. “What do— what do you mean by that?”

He was giving you a bone, a hint that he could potentially feel the same as you, but you wanted to hear him say it. You wanted the words to leave his mouth and verbally confirm that for you. Want wasn’t even good enough. You needed it. 

“There’s no way you don’t know,” San says, voice hushed. “No way that you don’t know how badly I’ve wanted you since first year.”

Something similar to a choked groan departs from you, your pulse racing in your ears, thumping beneath your chest. You’re too stunned to move, frozen in your spot in case this is all some fucked up dream. It doesn’t even occur to you that someone could walk in, doesn’t even cross your mind that you’re in too public of a setting for this conversation or where it could go. 

“I don’t— I didn’t…” Your eyes attempt to stay on his, but keep flickering down to his mouth. 

“It was so hard for me to play nice guy for so long,” he whispers, a pout adorning his expression. “And today? I couldn’t even stare at you shamelessly because of those damn girls. It’s so fucking annoying when they bother me while I’m trying to flirt with you. But since I’m Nice Guy San, I can’t be rude.”

“You flirt with me?” You snort, your shell shock wearing off and a goofy smile worming its way onto your face. He laughs along with you, tilting away to hide the warmth blooming on his cheeks. The tension is still present, but it’s a lot more bearable.

”I guess I’m not very good at it if you couldn’t even tell,” he glances down at his feet, the confident San from before long gone and now replaced by a bashful version. “Am I going crazy, or is this gonna go somewhere? I don’t want to misread anything and ruin what we already have. The ball is entirely in your court.”

It’s your turn to be shy, shrinking in on yourself slightly. Acknowledging that you had feelings for San was a separate can of worms. There was a big difference between him confessing to you and vice versa. You know if given the stage, you’d just start blabbering on and on about how you feel for him, and that would just be embarrassing for both of you. So instead you say, “Can I show you?”

When he nods, your fingers raise to his jaw, cupping it gently as you lean up. Your lips brush his softly, barely grazing them. His eyes flutter shut, a shiver running down his spine simply from your kiss. A pleasant buzz courses through your veins from your lips to the tips of your fingers. You’ve wanted this forever, you don’t think you could ever go back.

You pull back and San fists the fabric of your t-shirt on your waist, eyes still closed as he chases your mouth. “Fuck, Y/N, can I kiss you again?”

“Please,” you whine, enveloping your lips with his as soon as you get the green light. This time is desperate, noses bumping each other. You’re going lightheaded and dizzy, already intoxicated by him. Your back presses into the lockers behind you, arching into his chest for more. 

He deepens the kiss and it’s almost too much. You’re overwhelmed by the emotions taking control of you, not at all prepared for what would come with actually being with San. It had always been a distant fantasy, something that felt so completely out of reach that you didn’t dare let yourself indulge in the notion for too long. The way his lips lock with yours, fluidly and synchronously like missing pieces of a puzzle, you think you can die happily. 

“As hot as it would be to fuck you right here, I’d rather not get kicked out of this gym,” he chuckles breathlessly. “And since we’re both sweaty from working out, I think we could use a shower. Don’t you?”

You leave a kiss on the corner of his mouth, nodding frantically at his suggestion. Though you imagined your first time with San being in a bed, slow and sensual, you’d be so stupid to complain about this. Fucking in one of the gym showers, where anyone could hear you? Go big or go home. 

He scopes the area to ensure the coast is clear before hauling you into one of the stalls, dragging the curtain shut. You kiss roughly between removing articles of clothing, San turning on the water while his lips make quick work of your neck. Goosebumps form on your skin when the cool water hits it, your fingers combing through his wet hair as he sucks harsh marks into your collarbone and sternum. 

“You’re so gorgeous, babe,” he mutters into your skin, nipping lightly at the tops of your tits. One of his hands travels south, sliding through your folds with ease. He rubs tight circles into your clit, prodding at your entrance with his ring finger. “I need you to cum for me once before I fuck you for real, okay?”

“Mhm,” you moan quietly, hiking one of your legs around his waist. His finger pushes inside you to the knuckle and then curls. Your eyes all but roll to the back of your head, back arching off of the tiled wall. “Feels so good, San…”

“Yeah?” He smiles against your skin, trailing pecks up your neck and along your jawline. You whimper in his ear, cunt sucking in his finger greedily. He adds a second, the middle one, and applies pressure to your clit with the heel of his palm. The sight of you falling apart by his hand alone is sending blood rushing to his brain. 

Your body feels hot to the touch, risking a downwards glance at where his fingers disappear into your pussy. It forces another whine out of you, your head tossing back. You tug at the strands of hair that stick to the nape of his neck, steeling yourself the only way you can in this position. San just seemed to know you, to know exactly what you needed without you having to tell him. Either he was really good at guessing, or everything he did seemed to be perfect, because you’ve never climbed to the summit this quickly before. 

There’s a knot in the pit of your stomach that weaves itself tighter and tighter with each curl of his digits and each swirl of his thumb on your clit. You think you could cry from how attentive he was, from how determined he was to provide you pleasure. Your cunt contracts around his fingers, and he can sense the precipice of your orgasm, speeding up his pace. 

You squirm around in his hold, allowing him to spread apart your thighs so he can brush the pads of the digits buried inside of you up against that spongy sweet spot. You’re trembling now, nearing the edge of that familiar cliff. “San, baby, I’m— god— I’m so close,”

“Let go for me, my love.” He coos into the corner of your mouth, hushing your moans. He doesn’t slow his assault, inching you further and further towards your release like it was his own personal mission. That knot in your belly begins to unravel until it slips through your grasp completely, your orgasm rocking into you like a tidal wave. 

San aids you as you ride out your high, already spent before he’s even gotten the chance to be inside of you. He kisses you tenderly, pulling out his fingers with caution since you were still so sensitive. Your nails claw down his front, scratching his abdomen with a purpose. He shudders beneath you, lips curling up into another soft smile. 

“What?” You ask with a giggle, mirroring his expression when he wipes water from your face. 

“Nothing,” he shakes his head, grin unwavering. “You just look really pretty like this.”

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were trying to get into my pants, Choi San.” You tease, yanking him down for a saccharine kiss. He reciprocates without hesitation, drawing his palm on your thigh so he can wrap it around his waist again. 

“Me? Never…” He laughs along your mouth. “Is it working, though?”

You roll your eyes playfully, reconnecting your lips. “Are you gonna fuck me for real now?”

“What kinda question is that?” He glides the tip of his cock between your folds, shutting you up instantaneously. He’s heavy where he sits, slipping the shaft through your lower lips. “I’m gonna fuck you so good, you forget where you are, baby.”

Before you can even let out another sound of appreciation, he’s stretching you out, cock thrusting up into your pussy without warning. You jump up a bit to hook your other leg around his hips so he’s supporting your whole weight. The new angle makes it easier for him to delve deeper in your cunt, his dick accessing places you’d never knew existed. 

After he’s sure you’ve adjusted to his length, he starts to move, pistoning in and out of you much more forcefully than he did with his fingers. Your lips part for a voluminous moan, but then you hear a group of loud girls entering the shower area and San slaps a hand over your mouth. He makes no effort to stop, fucking into you without a single care for the people on the other side of the shower curtain. 

“Did any of you see where San went? He disappeared so fast.” 

You recognize the voice as belonging to one of the girls who was openly flirting with San while you were working out. Not even needing to see her, you can picture the exaggerated pout on her face based on her tone alone. 

“He probably followed after that stupid bitch he’s always with.”

Your half lidded eyes meet San’s but he still pays no mind to them, digging his nails into your plush thighs. He pulls all the way out, just to slam his cock all the way back in. His pace leisures, but his power doesn’t, abusing your cunt with every snap of his hips. 

“I think I’m gonna ask him out next time I see him. I have to stake my claim before someone else does.”

He holds back a laugh, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. You drown out their conversation after that, too focused on the feeling of his cock dragging against your walls so deliciously to even worry about those idiot girls. Little did they know he was closer than they thought…

Thankfully, they leave not much longer after that, and he uncovers your mouth. You gasp for air, panting feverishly when he picks up his speed again. Your bottom lip quivers with a whine, too fucked out to conjugate words that make sense. 

“You’re taking me so well, baby. Taking me like a fucking princess,” San praises. He groans, water droplets slipping along the valleys of his sculpted chest and abdomen. It drips with every roll of his hips and every thrust of his cock into your pussy. This was what he had been building up to, what he’d been dreaming of for years. “Who’s fucking you like this?”

“Mmm,” you moan, supping him in deeper, further, as cavernous as humanly possible. “You, San— fuck— y-you are.”

You arch your back, sneaking a hand in the middle of the two of you and pressing the pads of your fingers harshly on your clit when you do so. San holds you closer to him so your pelvic bones nearly clash each time he punches into you. The change in depth that he fucks you has your cunt squelching, any semblance of coherent thought escaping you. 

Your vision goes blank, stars decorating the backs of your eyelids as your second orgasm blindsides you. Not a sound leaves you after it knocks into you, cumming with so much force you think you might pass out in San’s arms. When you’ve finished, you let out a guttural groan, walls fluttering around his cock. 

“Gonna cum— shit— where do—“ you interrupt him with a whimper. 

“Cum inside of me,” your begging tone has him spilling into you practically on command. He fills you up perfectly, a moan from deep within him reaching your ears. You both stay like that for a moment, skin sticking to the other’s due to the thin sheen of sweat coupled with the steam of the shower coating your bodies. 

You can feel the rise and fall of his chest when he breathes, one of your hands coming up to caress his back gently. He pulls out with a wince, palms resting on either side of you as he recuperates. He breathes through his nostrils, forehead glued to your shoulder. His hands rub up and down your sides soothingly. 

“It’s safe to assume you’re gonna turn that girl down when she asks you out, right?” You ask suddenly, attempting to diffuse whatever’s in the air between you now. San laughs into your shoulder. 

“Y/N, I’m turning down any girl who asks me out from now on,” he stands upright, biting his lip before kissing you gently. “I don’t think my girlfriend would appreciate that very much.”

You raise an eyebrow at him. “Girlfriend?”

“Am I being too overzealous?” His nose scrunches up. 

“You’re being the right amount of zealous, I think,” you brush away a strand of wet hair that falls into his eyes. “But I think your ‘girlfriend’ would like it if you actually asked her to be your girlfriend.”

Choi San is the prettiest man you’ve ever set your sights on, but somehow, he looks even prettier smiling down at you after having sex with you in a gym shower. It’s a feat that should be considered illegal, and you should receive restitution for the distress it’s caused on your heart. 

“Will you be my girlfriend, Y/N?”

And well, maybe you’d deal with that later. It was kind of difficult to ignore that sparkle in his eyes, especially when it was directed at you. You nod without a second thought. 

“I would love nothing more.”

© yunhoszn. do not steal, claim, or repost. 

[crystalcow]

𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝𝑠 𝐶ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑑//𝑆𝑎𝑝𝑛𝑎𝑝 𝑝𝑡 4

Masterlist // child reader ML //

Sapnap x reader !p !child reader

Pronouns used: none specified!

Warnings: swearing, mentions of death, casinos

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

𝐊𝐢𝐧𝗼𝐤𝗼 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐧𝗼𝐰??

Quackity was telling you all of his plans

He rambled on for hours of his ideas for casinos and how he was going to marry Karl and sapnap

It sounded great

He had his whole plan set up! He even had Sam helping him with the building

But then he left

Just like everyone else

But that was fine! You were just with sapnap

Before Karl came running over rambling on about needed to move his library

He had a library?

“[Redacted] you need to stay close, please”

You looked at him weirdly

Who the fuck was [redacted]

“Karl my names Y/n you idiot” “flame..” “sorry”

He didn’t even notice it and then you had to spend the next couple days hauling over 100 books

“Oo hey what are these! The covers look really weird”

You had found his time travel books

Woops

That man raced over and in the kindest way possible, snatched it from your hands

“Don’t touch those, they are my special books”

You just shrugged and let him be, he freaks you out enough

So you all traveled to this area in the spruce forest and built a really ugly mushroom hut

But hey it’s fine! Foolish thankfully came around later that day and made everything better

So you stuck around

Maybe you needed this, this new start

Oh but prime knows that wouldnt last long

Karl started forgetting

At first it was simple things as just forgetting where he was or little stumbles with names

But eventually he was going away longer and longer

He started calling you by these strange names, some that sound Victorian and western and others that are unlike you

One day he didn’t call you by your name at all

You were hanging around the Sakura trees and the big yin Yang pond waiting for sapnap to come back with George

Then you saw Karl exit the library, running up to him for a hug

It’s been two months since you’ve seen him

You fucking hated it but you couldn’t help but consider him another parental figure

He loved it

But he just stood there as you wrapped your arms around him

Expecting the usual “[reda]- Y/n, I’ve missed you so much my sweet flame!”

But there was nothing just a sad one sided hug

“Hello? I’m sorry but do I know you?”

You were ready to cry

“I’m sorry, I uh must’ve mistaken you for the wrong person” “No that’s fine! Hugs are nice?”

So you left and ran into the library

Scouring throughout all of the books until you found them

The same 8 books you shrugged away

You read through all of them along with Karl’s other journals

You didn’t like going through his stuff especially, a whole invasion of privacy

The more you read the worse it got

What were you gonna tell Sapnap?

Who the hell is James, and [redacted]?

And why couldn’t he stop

It’s no use anymore

You were simply just forgotten

𝐋𝗼𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐰𝐚𝐢𝐭𝐞𝐝 𝐯𝐢𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐬

The closer you got to the large building, the sicker you got

Kinoko Kingdom was supposed to be your free pass

But somehow you always end up here

You called for Sam on the comms waiting for the beep

The inside looked great to say the least

“What are your past relationships with the prisoner?” “No answer.”

“Where are you currently resided?” “No answer”

“Do you believe the prisoner deserves his sentence?” “Maybe”

You put all your shit in the locker and followed him through all the safety checks

“I’m glad you didn’t bring anything with you”

You stood on the platform heart racing as the lava went down

It was like a ticking time bomb

The small squeaks and scratches of the hovering bridge

He just stared at you

That sick stupid mask was broken by tommy that day in the black stone room

So you had to look into his face

Lets just say he looks good in Orange

“Barrier up or down?” “Down”

He backed up into the corner as you stepped in

Smiling

Once the lava cascaded down your smile turned into a sick frown

“Hello” is that all he had to fucking say?

“Screw you. Fuck you. Damn you”

He just looked you a small chuckle escaping from his lips

“Those all mean the same thing.” “Well I’ve been living in cinnamon town for the past couple months, and I’m ready to fucking burn some buns”

Yeah he just laughed

“I’ve missed you Hot shot”

“You ruined our damn life!”

Someone went quiet

“If you didn’t have to have a petty little war, or criminalize children we could’ve been fine! It could’ve just been you, dad, me, and George.”

You were pissed, everyone just kept leaving you.

Tommy and Tubbo, Quackity, Karl, Dream, and hell even Wilbur

“You come and visit me, after not having seen me for months and you just yell? Not a hello or ‘how are you dream?’ ‘How’s prison dream’ ‘how can I help you get out of this damn place’ “

You just sat down ready to just walk out into the lava

“I’ve been stuck here for months! None of you even cared enough to visit me, hell even Tommy came around.”

You might have felt a little bad after leaving him

The prison was cold even tho lava was flowing right there

“Why would you leave the discs alone..” “Because I had to end it.”

What were you doing here

What were you planning on saying?

“So, what do you do in prison”

“I have a clock.”

You got up to go look at the pretty clock

Then threw it at his face

“Ow” “deal with it bitch”

The longer you stayed the worse the feeling in your stomach got

so you buzzed for Sam waving goodbye

“Wait.. Do they miss me?” “Can’t say, but I think this may be for the best.”

He wanted his best friends

But he just got the annoying teenager

Oh but that wouldn’t be the last

𝐋𝐚𝐬 𝐍𝐚𝐯𝐚𝐝𝐚𝐬

You got a letter in the mail one day

Who the hell uses letters??

You were shocked to see the address and the small post card

“Come around some time”-Quackity

Ans on the back it had the cords

Oh well what did you have to loose? Sapnap was focused on Karl

and well Karl didn’t even know you

So you set off

It took you a couple hours travel by horse to get to the desert area

The large sign blaring in the red text

You gotta admit the place looked beautiful

There was a giant dick and different shops

You were shocked to see this random un human like guy

“Hello, I am Charlie a totally human guy!”

Yeah totally not slime

“I’m uh, Y/n?” He reached out for a handshake sort of thing

“Dap me up!” “Another time Charlie”

Maybe when you had hand sanitizer

“Ohh so your Y/n! Mister Quackity talks about you all the time, come on in!”

You were skeptical but followed anyways

Stopping in your tracks when you saw Fundy

“Furry?” “Fire shit?”

You went over to give him a side hug, ruffling his fur

“What the hell are you doing here ginger boy!” “Oh you know, just escaping nightmares”

You were confused then just let him be

You walked to the entry way of the place

A beautiful pond with flowers and an arch

“Did what the place where Mr. Quackity was going to propose!”

Going to?

You shrugged it off following inside

You hated to admit it, but you were excited to see him

Yeah you really needed a parental figure in your life at the moment

So when you saw him, he immediately pick you up in a hug

You didn’t fail to notice his change in appearance

That beanie stayed the same tho

Thank god

“Hey hey! Let me show you around the place, we can also go for lunch and talk.”

The casino looked great to say the least

Loud music booming from the speakers, along with the live jazz band on the side

Slot machines were going off every minute

“Have a chip, something to remember this by”

He handed you a red poker chip

It was a cool one tho, in the middle has a blocky sort of smile

Creepy and dopey.. sick!

So you put it around a spare silver chain

“So how have you been kid? ‘Ts been a while hasn’t it.” “Could be better..”

You both walked around the city in silence, offering to go in the super model shop

“No” “why not” “keep walking”

On your way to lunch you had to squint at what you were seeing

“Oh my goodness you’re still alive?!” “You’re alive!?”

You and revivebur just stared at one another

“Yeah he came back after I died!” “you what now-“

You just stared at Tommy and back to Wilbur

Oh god those shrooms were messing with your head

You should’ve gotten out of there a while ago

Quackity came over placing his hands on your shoulders

“Do I have to execute you both? Get off my damn property”

“Sorry Q. Say, Y/n wanna join Lmanburg 2.0?”

You back away holding your hands up

“I denied that offer once, and I’ll do it again. Fucking zombie freaks”

You obviously muttered the last part

Why the fuck did dream revive those two shits??

When did Tommy even die??

Your visit here has just gotten weirder and weirder

𝐌𝗼𝐯𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐥𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐬

Quackity got you away from the brits as quick as he could

So he brought you over to his office

“So kid, how’s your dad..”

Ah you expected this question

“How the fuck am I supposed to know. He’s living his life, Karl’s time traveling! Oh yeah did I mention he doesn’t even remember me.”

He looked at you with wide eyes

“So I’m not the only one they forgot..”

You slammed you hands on the fable dramatizing the situation

“How would you feel about moving here? I mean you could work for me in the casino!”

You thought about it for a second

You have two options

1. Live in shroom town with bubbles

2. Move to las Nevada’s with Quackity

You were sure Sapnap wouldn’t mind

I mean would he even care?

He hasn’t for the past couple months!

“You feel abandoned there, over here there are hundreds of people. You’ll have the time of your life”

You thought about it for a sec

“Alright hand me a contract”

So you signed

Making deals with the devil huh

Little did you know it would cost you your life

Devils little soul

➳➳➳➳➳┄┄※┄┄➳➳➳➳➳

and this is the finale! I will take requests for sapnaps child, and I’ll do some shit with Quackity and the casino and go in more depth if wanted!

As always request and ask anything! And ask if you want to be on a taglist (child reader or general)

For those on the taglist I don’t know if you wanted to be tagged for all child reader shit or just dreams child.. so please tell me :)

@creatorofstars @georgenctfound @samistheidiot @smolbox-png @ghostlysenses @stellarinstigator @bobaducky

[bumbleklee]

Hi I'm the anon who requested the Childe x zhongli x reader one. I deeply apologize I am so so sorry I should have specified but yes! Childe and zhongli are dating at the beginning, and poly at the end with reader. Only if your comfortable with it though! I'm sorry once again I should have specified more clearly T-T

original ask: Um feel free to ignore This ask but zhongli x Childe x reader where Zhongli and childe are dating and reader has been in love with both of them and thinks their love is unrequited, but they're happy with only giving love and not receiving anything in return. But then one day they meet someone new and start spending more time with them, pulling away from zhongli and childe which leads them to getting angry and confessing + jealous nsfw at the end. Feel free to ignore tho, no pressure. Have a good day and take care :)

hopefully i did you justice lol, i was still a tiny bit confused so i apologize if this isn’t 100% of what you were looking for but i hope you still like it!!! this is a part 1 of 2 and the nsfw work scene is going to be in part 2 (expect that in a couple days) PART 2 HERE

cw: polyamourous relationship, little bit of angst, a little over 3k words, hu tao has a brother in this named jiang

summary: your first crush is zhongli and when it’s evident he doesn’t like you back, you try to turn your feelings to childe. so when childe and zhongli start dating, your heart is shattered. thinking there’s no hope for love, you meet jiang. sounds great - the only issue? zhongli and childe seem to have a problem with this. 

Alongside Zhongli, you were a mortician at the Wangshen Funeral Home. Over the months of working beside him, you had become quite close to him. In fact, Zhongli considered you one of his closest friends in Liyue. After long days at the parlor you would go out to dinner together and despite having to pay most of the time, you were happy to spend time with him.

Your feelings towards Zhongli were growing to be more than platonic but you could never tell him. You were too different from him and while you were sure he appreciated your friendship, you couldn’t imagine him reciprocating your true feelings.

So when you’re introduced to a young man named Childe, you thought this would be your way to weasel out of your one-sided love. Childe was cheeky and sweet to you, nearly winning your heart instantly. He hung around Zhongli often and it became unusual to see either of them alone. Slowly, your crush on Zhongli soon shifted to Childe.

Unlike before, you began to dress nicer to work if you knew Childe was going to be coming along that day. You examined the way Childe interacted with Zhongli versus you and the difference made you hopeful that Childe was feeling something for you. Sometimes he would even stay at the parlor with you if Zhongli needed to run out for a bit.

When Childe asked you to Wanmin for dinner one night, your heart swelled. You had been alone for too long and now a rich, handsome local from Snezhnaya was courting you, right?

You were giddy for the remaining hour of your shift, even telling Hu Tao that you had a date after work. When the time came, Childe waited for you at the entrance and you happily skipped beside him. He made a comment about how you seemed to be in a good mood and you could only chuckle - wasn’t he, too?

“Order whatever you want,” Childe told you once you both were seated at a table. Your eyes glazed over the menu, racing back and forth between too many options. You heard Childe sigh and you looked up briefly to see his fingers fumbling with each other. “You’re probably wondering why I asked you to dinner, huh?”

Beneath the table, your legs twisted anxiously. You hid your excited smile and tilted your head, trying to make a cute facial expression. Was Childe going to ask you to be his partner? Or was it too soon to do that? Despite your age, you hadn’t been on a proper date in ages. Were things different when you were a teenager than when you were an adult?

One of Childe’s hands made its way across the table and you let him take your own. His hand felt incredibly soft and warm and you wanted desperately to interlock your fingers.

“Since you're my closest friend in Liyue, I wanted to tell you this before anyone else,” Childe began. The first part of his sentence made your chest flutter but you decided to pay no mind to it. Perhaps you had just gotten closer to Childe than Zhongli lately. But what Childe said next made your heart drop into the pit of your stomach, “I’m going to ask Zhongli to be my partner.”

“Like, work partner?” You said, your words catching in your throat. You knew exactly what Childe meant. How could you have been so stupid?

Childe let out a hearty laugh, “No, not a work partner. I want to be his boyfriend.”

Your hand fell limp in Childe’s and you swore you stopped breathing in that moment. Not only were you extremely upset, you were suddenly extremely embarrassed. You told Hu Tao this was a date! You face grew red and you averted your eyes to your lap. But it all made sense. Childe wasn’t talking to you in a special way - he was talking to Zhongli. Looking back on your personal conversations with Childe, you realized that most of them centered around Zhongli or Zhongli’s personality. You were just so infatuated with trying to please Childe that you hadn’t noticed.

“So, what do you think?”

What did you think? You thought it was the most stupid, heart wrenching idea ever. You thought Childe was the worst person in the world for leading you on (even though deep down you knew he didn’t really lead you on) and you thought Childe should just go back to Snezhnaya.

“Great!” You said, plastering a fake smile on your face, “I’m happy for you.”

Childe gave your hand a squeeze and finally let go. Your own hand slithered back to your lap where you grasped angrily at the hem of your shirt.

You ordered the most expensive item on the menu.

***

You spent the next few weeks putting up a false identity. The day after your dinner with Childe, he followed through with his idea and started to date Zhongli. You hated to admit it, but they were the perfect couple. Childe helped bring Zhongli out of his reclusiveness and Zhongli helped Childe become a more mature person.

Since both men were still your friends, they wanted to continue their relationship with you. And you didn’t have the heart to tell them to leave you alone. Now that they were dating, it was always the three of you and you quickly grew to their third wheel.

Childe offered to do commissions with you and, of course, Zhongli came along and your usual table during lunch with Zhongli had to be changed so a third person could fit. It was fun at first since Zhongli and Childe were still getting comfortable with their new dynamic but once they discovered intimacy and physical touch, you had enough.

Not only did you have to suffer through not one but two one-sided crushes just to have them start dating each other, now you had to sit by and watch them practically drool all over each other. Instead of going out to lunch with the couple one day, you made up an excuse about work you needed to finish and collapsed in a chair in Hu Tao’s office once they had left.

The funeral director looked at you over a mound of paperwork, “You’re not going out today?”

“And watch Childe try feeding Zhongli for an hour? No thanks.”

You crossed your arms, annoyed, and fixed your sight on the ticking clock on the wall. Hu Tao shifted her small body so she was sitting on her desk facing you, her legs hanging off the side and her feet kicking the side of her desk.

“What happened?” She asked. At her question, you broke and told your boss everything. Hu Tao sat and listened, staring at you concerned while you ranted about how you were convinced the world was out to get you. When you finished your vent, Hu Tao had a mischievous look on her face, “You just need to find someone new.”

You were quick to roll your eyes, “Yeah, no.”

“Believe me, Y/N, getting a new partner would help get your mind off Zhongli and Childe.”

“And where am I supposed to just find someone to date out of the blue?”

“Are you doing anything after work?”

Knowing Hu Tao, you were more than nervous to see what she had up her sleeve. Nonetheless, you avoided Childe and Zhongli for the rest of the day and cautiously left with Hu Tao. You walked behind her in silence as she led you into Liyue Harbor and to a rather large townhouse. She opened the front door and you followed her inside, immediately being met with a bustling and loud environment.

A child ran by your legs and Hu Tao shouted something inaudible at them. She turned on her heel to you, “Sorry for the chaos. You’re okay with staying for dinner, right?”

You nodded your head, realizing it was probably foolish to say no to your boss (it’s not like you had plans anyways). Hu Tao beamed and clapped her hands together, practically dragging you to the kitchen and shoving you down on a barstool. Beside you sat a rather good-looking man and Hu Tao soon introduced him to you.

“Y/N, this is my older brother Jiang. Please find him well.”

So, this is what the director had in mind.

Jiang held out his hand to you politely and you shook it gently, formally introducing yourself to him. For the next few hours, you and Jiang got to know each other. You learned that he was Hu Tao’s eldest sibling and was a teacher in Liyue Harbor. He was around your age and had a very kind smile. By the end of the night, Jiang expressed his interest in you and asked you on a proper date. Hu Tao only smirked giddily behind the counter.

You and Jiang grew close quickly. Your time spent with him was refreshing and for once, you were finally able to get your mind off Childe and Zhongli. You still saw Zhongli (and sometimes Childe) at work but your relationship had already faltered enough to add awkwardness to your conversations. If Zhongli tried to stop you and talk to you about something other than work, you made up an excuse to scurry along. Despite your new relationship, thinking about Zhongli and Childe caused a familiar pain to appear in your chest.

One night you couldn’t leave fast enough and Zhongli caught your arm, “May I have a word with you?”

“Right now?” You asked, glancing at the clock for emphasis, “I really have to get going.”

“Please,” Zhongli said quietly, “Just for a moment.”

You sighed, knowing you didn’t have a valid excuse rolled up in your sleeve this time. You nodded your head and slipped your bag from your shoulder back onto the chair in front of you. Zhongli retracted his hand from your arm, instead deciding to loosely cross them across his chest.

“Have we done something wrong?” He asked.

“What are you talking about?”

“Childe and I have noticed your absence from our outings,” He explained, his tone remaining very flat, “We miss you.”

You wanted to scoff at him. You weren’t a part of their relationship, why did they miss you? “I’ve just been busy,” You said, “In fact, I started seeing someone.”

Zhongli’s expression at this statement was indescribable. It was as if he had a reaction but was trying to hide it behind tight lips. Even his usual bright eyes were unreadable. “I see,” He said simply. He paused for a moment before flashing you a cheeky, falsified smile, “I’d love to meet them. How about a double date this Saturday? We get off early then.”

You sent Zhongli a similar tight-lipped smirk, “We would love to. See you then.” And with that, you picked up your bag and rushed out of the funeral home, rubbing your temple. You had a bad feeling about this date.

***

Jiang picked you up for your double date at six. You couldn’t help but notice how ravishing he looked that night with his hair slicked back and expensive-looking clothes on his body. Upon further inspection, you could see the faint smudge of eyeliner lining his lashes. Gold jewelry adorned his neck and wrists and you could only assume Hu Tao spent hours making him look this good for you.

“Ready to go?” Jiang asked you, holding his arm out cheekily. You rolled your eyes and grinned, locking your front door and grabbing onto his arm.

You couldn’t shake that uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach but you didn’t let Jiang know. The last thing he needed was to hear about how the two men he was meeting tonight were former crushes of yours. To him, this double date was a simple outing between coworkers.

You were having dinner together at the Liyue Pavilion as per suggestion of Childe. You were worried about the price but Childe insisted that he would front the bill as always. Part of you missed having your meals constantly covered by the harbinger.

Jiang opened the door to the restaurant for you and you thanked him, slipping inside and spotting the two men you were meeting already at a table. Childe reached up to wave you over and you took Jiang’s arm in yours before heading over there.

“Childe, Zhongli,” You greeted your co-worker and friend, “This is Jiang, my boyfriend.”

“It’s nice to meet you,” Jiang smiled, reaching his free hand out to Childe and Zhongli who both shook it cautiously. After introducing everyone, you sat down at the table and Childe handed you a menu to look over.

Jiang was being overtly sweet to you, touching your fingertips and leaning into your side. You accepted the gestures, even daring to lay your head against his shoulder while he talked to Zhongli about the cor lapis industry. From the corner of your eye, you watched Childe’s jaw clench and his grip on Zhongli’s arm tightened.

“So, tell us about yourself,” Childe asked Jiang, his tone sharp. Jiang, sweet Jiang, only beamed and sat straighter in his chair, “Zhongli tells me your Hu Tao’s brother, correct?”

“Right! She’s my younger sister,” Jiang shook his head and chuckled softly to himself, “And I teach literature at the Liyue Xueyuan.”

“A teacher?” Childe nearly scoffs, “I suppose that’s why you live with your younger sister.”

Jiang seemed taken aback by this comment but tried to play it off by laughing. You felt a pang in your chest and shot Childe a nasty glare for his unnecessary comment but were only met with his sharp eyes. You swore you could see jealousy swimming in them.

“Now, now,” Zhongli interrupted, “Not everyone is as magnificent as you, Childe. No need to make others feel bad.”

You felt Jiang’s body tense and his eyes averted down to his lap for a moment. “Don’t listen to them,” You told him, “They’re just trying to be funny.”

“I would never dream of humoring you about that,” Zhongli replied to you, “I’m just pointing out the obvious. Aren’t we getting to know each other?”

At that moment, you knew exactly what Childe and Zhongli were doing. You noticed the way they were looking admirably at you and shooting daggers at your date. They were clearly trying to badtalk him and make Jiang seem undesirable in your eyes. Only you couldn’t seem to understand why. Shouldn’t they be happy that you finally found someone to potentially settle down with?

One more backhanded comment was thrown in Jiang’s direction and suddenly your partner stood up from the table. The expression on his face was heart-wrenching, “I’m going to use the restroom.” With that, Jiang hurried away from the table leaving you alone with both men.

“What the fuck is wrong with you two?” You snapped, angrily waving your hands around.

“What do you mean?” Childe asked, batting his eyelashes at you in the most painstakingly annoying way ever. Your eyes narrowed and after finding his foot under the table, you stomped on it hard. Childe cursed and crossed his arms, looking down.

Zhongli, understanding Childe was being too immature, spoke up, “You shouldn’t be with him.”

You wanted to tear your hair out, “Who do you think you are to dictate who I can and can’t date?” Your voice was rising but you didn’t care, your frustration jumping out. “Never once have I meddled with your relationship but you think you can with mine?”

“You should be with us.”

Zhongli’s words made you freeze. Was this some sick joke? You wrecked your brain for an incident you caused in the past few months for them to be pranking you like this but you couldn’t think of a single one. Childe reached across the table to grasp your hands and you were still too in shock to pull them away.

“We love you, Y/N, and we should have told you sooner,” Childe says.

You shake your head, “I’m dreaming.”

“You’re not,” Zhongli says, placing his hands over yours and Childe’s, “Please say you’ll be ours.”

Finally, you took a deep breath and looked straight ahead. Zhongli and Childe looked at you with pleading eyes and you felt a rush of emotions explode inside of you. Both of your former crushes were confessing their love to you, asking you to be a part of their relationship. Never once had the thought of a polyamorous relationship crossed your mind but you certainly weren’t opposed to it.

“Okay,” You breathed out, “I will.”

***

Breaking the news to Jiang when he returned back to the table was hard. He was already fragile from being berated before and now you were breaking up with him. You knew you were going to earn an earful from Hu Tao on Monday but you decided to worry about that when the time came.

You had asked Jiang to step aside and in the simplest of terms, you tried to explain the situation.

“So, you’re breaking up with me to date both of them?” He asked in disbelief, running a hand through his hair. His voice was filled with cracks and you wish it didn’t have to be like this. Truthfully, he didn’t understand. How could you be with two people at the same time? “Is this a sex thing? Because I can try harder if that’s-”

“No!” You interrupted, “It’s not, I promise. My heart is just split down the middle for them.”

Jiang sighed again. He may never fully understand your relationship but he appreciated you telling him now rather than later. You offered to walk Jiang home but the man decided he needed some time alone - you didn’t blame him. You wanted to ask Jiang if you could remain friends but the words weren’t coming out of your throat. You watched as Jiang took one last look at you, then the two men at the table, before solemnly walking away and out of the restaurant.

You returned to your new partners and finished your dinner. Slowly, your mood was elevated again but the natural ache of your heartbreak lingered.

“Spend the night with us,” Childe says sweetly after paying the check, “We can help you feel better.”

The feeling of both men on either side of you felt foreign but comforting. You nodded to Childe’s request and Zhongli led the three of you back to his apartment. The next few moments were a blur and when you came to, you were being laid on a soft bed. Childe slid next to you and your arm instinctively wrapped around his waist, pulling him closer, while Zhongli hovered above you. His warm eyes gazed into yours and you decided you could get used to this.

This new love was unique and plentiful as long as the three of you were on the same page, that’s all that mattered.

a/n: sorry this took so long! as you can see, it came out v long lmfao. requests are still open <3

[kiwi--bot]

Patterns

Rating: T Words: 2,872 Warnings: Blood, Injuries, Al-An doesn’t understand emotions very well. Summary: Al-An prefers when things fall into an easily recognizable pattern. It’s how data forms, it’s easier to work with, and less surprises make it easier to remain efficient. Robin is a rogue bit of code in the set sequence.

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Indeed, it had been quite some time since Al-An was allowed to exist in any dimensions outside of their temporary isolation. And truly, Robin had done well in the fabrication of an Architect form that would suit their needs to relocate the pair off the planet, and return to their home with the remedy for the Kharaa Bacterium; for the Architects of their home world.

Unfortunately, following the reconstruction of their new form, Al-An is hit with the immediate problem that their supposed mode of transportation has... degraded over time; and they are quite lacking really on the resources department. Countless amounts of bits and bobs, here and there, that simply corroded over the years, or just did not operate further. And every small tick of a list of issues added up to an inoperable phase gate. Yet Robin-- ever so helpful Robin-- offers to help collect whatever Al-an could need to repair their ship.

“Always together, even if you’re not stuck upstairs anymore,” She had joked, tapping the side of her head in an emphasized way. How Al-An could only think of how true that statement was...

And so, life on 4546B settled into somewhat of a steady, even pace for Robin and Al-An.

Robin relocates her primary base to the facility where Al-An prepares for convenience’s sake. She wakes up late in the morning, and Al-An’s learned to get a cup of coffee steaming hot and settled at her nightstand at precisely 13:29. This in turn helps her wake up and become functional no later than 13:50-14:00, depending on how late she was up the previous night.

Following that, Al-An fabricates a nutritious meal of her choosing, and it’s set onto a table-- or, a section of the facility that’s been repurposed into a table-- and she eats before she heads out for the day to find the resources needed. (And always, Al-An makes sure that there’s a fabricated meal packed away in a thermally-controlled container for her to take along.) And like clockwork, Robin is back at 22:22 with her Seatruck stuffed to the brim with all the supplies she could find.

And usually Al-An has to check her for injuries or parasites and she just grins when they comment on how inefficient her resource-gathering is if she must hurt herself every single time. “Awww, you just like to fret over me, Al-An,” she coos as they utilize their on-hand medical devices to knit up skin from a rather nasty bite.

“I do not fret, I observe,” Al-An states plainly, and Robin rolls her eyes, only wincing a little when Al-an has to wipe over another puncture with that strange antiseptic gel, and the skin closes under the heat of that magic little tool that Robin has yet to scan. “And I know that humans are one of the most fragile things that get in more trouble compared to any living creature I have yet to meet.”

“I’m gonna talk that as a compliment, Al-An.” Robin flexes out her wrist once the wound is all sealed up, the only reminder a faint scar left in the wake. She flashes a grin at the Architect, who would promptly turn back to what they had been working on prior before they needed to patch her up.

At 27:00 or 28:00, Al-An ceases working for a short period-- one Robin requested so that they don’t overwork themselves. Of course, an Architect cannot really do such a thing as ‘overwork,’ but Al-An humors her. And Robin’s meal is fabricated and settled on the table no later than 28:50. She used to always request Al-An eat dinner with her-- and although they do not eat like she does, they sit nonetheless at her side.

And Robin will scroll through her PDA and read the day’s logs once again, chewing hear and there and really making an inefficient use of her time as she often does. But humans like to be that way-- leisurely, as Robin once corrected them-- and so Al-An will not question it again.

She always leans back against the stone of the her temporary seat, shrugging and shuffling and making a good amount of noise that could startle even the most focused Architect from their endeavors. Over time, she would unconsciously lay against Al-An’s side, and that often settled her, so they would not comment.

If they had to admit something, the pressure therapy from her body weight was a welcome one, given they did not have the proper tools to recreate such things.

Robin turns into bed anywhere from 1:00-3:00; it will depend on what areas she visited, and what the day’s events involved. And she will bid Al-An goodnight with a smile and pat on their arm, before she retreats to her bed. Although, she doesn’t really go anywhere, because her ‘room’ is just a small section of the facility adjacent to where Al-An primarily works.

She’s fabricated herself a bed, some storage, and even hung up some curtains to block out the steady glow of the facility. It’s a small little space that reminds Al-An of how Architects would furnish the habitats of subjects they used for research.

Peculiar.

And this is how their pattern would fall into, resetting each day at 13:29 with the first coffee of the day. Al-An finds the repeating pattern of each day, as Robin would put it.... soothing. Did Architects even need to be soothed? Historically?

No. And yet Al-An could not help but find this... calm, inside the promise of the known. Perhaps it was a way for them to deal with the fact that they might not know what would await them on the other side of the phase gate, where they would have to face their people, and answer for their mistakes. Perhaps that reason is why they can now find solace and even comfort in something as simple as a daily pattern.

How the other Architects would be baffled at the thought. The very notion of it was so unlike them all. Al-An would have to blame Robin for this, at the very least.

Merging with her cerebral cortex must have changed something in their emotional status....

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And with the promise of a steady pattern, Al-An could find each day predictable enough to not impede any portion of their work. They worked quickly to repair what needed repairs, to adjust what needed adjusting, to alter what needed altering.

Steady. Steady. Steady. Repeat.

The illusion of this pattern gets shattered when 22:42 arrives one evening, and Robin is not yet home. Al-An, logistically, should be business as normal. She could have gone farther, she could have had a small set-back, she could have gotten distracted. But when 23:22 arrives, and Robin is still not home, Al-An finds they cannot work.

The data rolls in front of their vision as normal, the facility is operating at 100%, and they have spent the better part of this week weaving data in such a way that it is second-nature. But their hands do not move, their gaze is transfixed on the door, and the progress of their work is stunted.

She should be back by now. She should have been back exactly 60 minutes ago.

Al-An cannot work. They shut off their normal programs and instead set up a long-range scan. It puts them off schedule immensely, but they, for once, cannot find it in them to care about inefficiency. It takes 20 minutes for the scan to prepare, and the entire time, Al-An keeps their gaze on the door. Like Robin will burst in any second, with a couple new wounds, yes, but here, and alive.

Robin does not enter the door by the time the scan is online at 23:42.

Robin does not enter the door as the scanner searches at 23:43.

Robin does not enter the door as the scanner searches at 23:44.

Robin does not enter the door as the scanner searches at 23:45.

Robin is not home as the scanner searches at 23:46.

Robin is not home safe as the scanner searches at 23:47.

Robin is not home safe as the scanner searches at 23:48.

Robin is not home safe as the scanner searches at 23:49.

Robin must not be safe as the scanner finds her at 23:50.

Al-An must prepare for the worst, even as they wish to leave as soon as the scanner reads her biosignature in the Arctic. No good in retrieving her if they do not have food, medical supplies, warmer clothing, an extra hair tie-- she always complained when her current one would break-- and anything else humans needed when they were potentially in distress--

No.

Robin is not in distress. The very thought has the Architect frozen to the spot, a flicker of something so unfamiliar buzzing through them. She is fine, just delayed. Off-schedule, off-pattern. No matter, Al-An will locate her and then they will both repair that.

They finish collecting everything needed into a neat pack, and just as they prepare to put the facility into lockdown, there’s a familiar faint splashing, and then footsteps padding across a stone floor.

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It is 24:17 when Robin Ayou enters the Architect facility she calls home with her arm crudely wrapped in a sling and her leg leaving a trail of blood. But nonetheless, she’s got the same grin on her face, and carries something sharp in her uninjured hand. She’s limping.

“Al-An!” She calls, her voice loud and full of excitement. She’s stumbling over her own feet, and Al-An blinks to her side to catch her with the beam of their mechanical arm, lifting her right off the ground. She doesn’t notice how their posture is tight and tense, instead waving the sharp object in her hand. “Al-An I did it! I fought off one of those Shadow Leviathans and I freaking won!”

Al-An does not reply.

“It tried to eat me, Al-An!” Robin’s arm waves wildly in her excitement, and she doesn’t protest when Al-An brings her to the empty table to seat her, once again getting to work on mending what is broken. Her injured arm has several gashes in it: some down to the bone, and covered messily with plant matter. Al-An removes those and starts on sterilization.

“It yanked me by the arm, but I was quick-- I stabbed him right in the eye, and I held on, because he was pulling me towards his mouth!” She grins wider, adrenaline masking any pain from the antiseptics, or how the beam begins to knit the skin and muscle back to one piece. “I lost my grip on my knife, but I grabbed his spine-- or whatever those glowing things on his belly are-- and I held on and kicked him right in the stomach!”

Al-An silently redirects attention to her leg, where acidic liquid had eaten through her suit and burned the skin-- not too horribly, but bloody. That is treated next.

“And then I must of hurt him bad, because he let me go, but not before I yanked and yanked on those spine things-- And look! I got it, I ripped one clean off!” She’s talking quickly, her body thrumming at the thrilling tale, and feeling so alive. “I felt bad at first, but then I remembered that he tried to eat me, so I shrugged it off, and he backed off after I ripped off this. I won, Al-An! Against a freaking Shadow Leviathan!”

Robin laughs, slapping her now healed hand against her forehead and grinning wildly. “God, I thought for sure I was a goner when I didn’t take the prawn suit down--”

“And why didn’t you, Robin?”

They are both startled by the tone of Al-An’s voice. And Robin finally realizes that Al-An is stiff, mechanical in how they treat her-- so different from the almost caring way they usually do. And they are glowing a sickly yellow color, their gaze transfixed on her wounds as the mechanical arm fixes up the burns on her leg.

“I-I.....” Robin is at a loss, her eyes now locked onto them. “I.... don’t know.”

An uncomfortable silence falls between them. Al-An finishes up work on her leg, and then does a general scan over her to make sure they didn’t miss any other wounds. Processing, methodical, even.

Something is wrong, Robin thinks. Even now, as they seem to pull away from the situation, the same sickly color tinges the edge of her vision. Robin catches their arm as they turn to assess her findings, and she doesn’t miss how they tense.

“Al-An....” She begins, but stops. She can’t find the right thing to say. It all feels wrong. Like anything she says next won’t be the right thing to say. But she tries with, “Are you okay?”

“That is hardly a question you should ask me, Robin.” Al-An’s voice has gone back to the same, even tone as when they first met, but it’s all off. Too even, too tight. Like there is something beneath the surface, just hiding and waiting to strike like an Ice Worm. “You should ask yourself that. You were the one who was injured. Sustaining traumatic injuries is detrimental to the overall health of--”

“Did I scare you?” She asks, and Al-An falters.

“Fear is not a concept we feel,” They state, and yet they now feel the sinking familiarity of it nonetheless. Fear. They were afraid, they had been afraid when Robin was not home at the right time. They were scared when Robin returned injured. They were scared when she recounted her harrowing tale, and they were scared that she’s going to do it again and they would not be there to pick up the pieces--

“Al-An...” Robin’s voice cuts through the swirling data inside their head, and her eyes are soft as she reaches and touches their chest gently. She feels.... awful. Physically and emotionally. How could she not realize that they were upset? How could she have been so blind when she’s normally so in tune with the Architect? “Al-An, I’m really sorry.”

“You have done nothing that warrants an apology,” Al-An states; but their lights flicker pink for the briefest moment. “You were simply acting inefficiently and radically in a way that could have resulted in several versions of a potential death, which is not uncommon for your species.”

Robin smiles. That unintentional insult was 100% all Al-An. She shifts closer to them, and then her arms wrap around them, and she leans her head against their chest, and she imagines she can hear their heartbeat through their thick, armored body. “I know, I was being an idiot. I’m sorry.”

“What are you doing?”

“I’m hugging you, Al-An. Never had a hug before?”

“Architects do not partake in this sort of behavior,” Al-an tells her. But, nonetheless, they mimic her movements, and their organic arms encircle her smaller frame, and having her close to them like so reminds them just of how tiny and delicate she is. “....Touching one another was not commonplace.”

“Then I’m gonna make it commonplace, and I’m gonna give you a hug everyday until I catch up on the hugs you’ve missed out on your whole life,” Robin hums as she closes her eyes, yawning.

“That would be impossible, given the length of your human lifespan,” Al-An corrects her, but they find the idea of one of these each day not entirely unpleasant. Robin laughs, and she just smiles. And their lights shift to a light pink as she falls asleep against them, and they return her to her bed: asleep too early for the schedule.

But it was alright to be a little off-pattern.

━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━

And so, life on 4546B settled into somewhat of a general routine for Robin and Al-An.

Al-An has her coffee ready at 13:29 and she drinks it as she wakes up and rolls out of bed by 14:00. Al-An fabricates breakfast, packs her a lunch, and she’s out the door for the day’s work. And if she returns at 21:57 or 23:37, Al-An is not worried. After all, she’s returning with less injuries, and that is good enough for them.

Together they sit when Robin has her dinner and Al-An has their break around 28:42, and Robin reads aloud her PDA entries to Al-An-- even though they could easily scan and upload the documents themself, it makes her feel happy, so they indulge. And Robin leans back against Al-An without hesitation once she’s done eating, and they find the pressure nice.

And when 1:00 or 2:00 rolls around, just before she turns in for bed, Robin will throw her arms around Al-An for their daily hug, and she will hold on tight for a good few minutes, and Al-An learns to hold her in return. Perhaps if they held long enough, tight enough, she would never be in danger again.

And they find that perhaps, maybe... they like hugs.

And Robin fashions the Leviathan fragment into a necklace, that she gifts Al-An.

And Al-An wears it everyday.

[illuminatedquill]

Nevertheless, Episode 9

More Thoughts/Analysis

“So it’s true, when all is said and done, grief is the price we pay for love.”

- E.A. Bucchianeri

Jae Eon’s Self Sabotage

Chekov’s Gun is the dramatic principle that details within a story will contribute to the overall narrative. You might have heard of this before in its simplest form: if there is a gun shown in Act 1, it absolutely must go off in Act 2 or 3. In episode 9 of Nevertheless, we have this scene right at the beginning:

Yes, that scene. Park Jae Eon sees Yang Do Hyeok standing off to the side as he waits outside Na Bi’s apartment to retrieve his stuff. Na Bi doesn’t know Do Hyeok is nearby. Jae Eon makes the calculation in his head and manipulates his way inside Na Bi’s apartment, knowing exactly what it looks like to Do Hyeok. It’s petty revenge for seeing Na Bi and Do Hyeok together on campus from earlier.

This is the gun. And it backfires on Jae Eon big time. Throughout the entire episode, his acts of sincerity towards Na Bi seem genuine and heartfelt, yet his action in that one scene undermines anything he attempts. It doesn’t work; to his mounting frustration, Na Bi and Do Hyeok continue to talk and meet as if nothing happened.

(We know that’s not the case as seen from Do Hyeok’s alone time but I’ll talk about that later in this post.)

It’s a ticking time bomb and it goes off at last in the rain scene. Nothing is working for him. He is desperate not to lose Na Bi. And he goes off in a drunken rage on Na Bi after she returns home on that fateful rainy night.

And he loses her. The gun goes off. Everything sincere he did turns rotten in Na Bi’s eyes after he reveals his actions. Actions have consequences, always rippling forward and affecting change in moments not yet experienced. He ruined his chances because of his petty cruelty towards Do Hyeok in the beginning. His sincerity only extended towards Na Bi and it was only to get her attention once more.

Jae Eon lost. Not so much to Do Hyeok, as he lost to Na Bi, who cares about him deeply. He underestimated her feelings towards Do Hyeok, assuming, like so many other viewers, that he was an an irritating distraction that refused to go away.

He can’t fathom why Do Hyeok still seems to like Na Bi after seeing them enter her apartment together. Is he really that incredible a person? What makes him so special?

Well, let’s talk about it.

Do Hyeok’s Crisis Playbook

We see from Do Hyeok’s time alone after his initial visit to Seoul that he is taking it pretty hard; I can’t really blame him, considering what he saw that night. His struggle is open, honest, and raw; like Na Bi, it affects him to the point that he can’t focus on his work (anyone seem to notice that Jae Eon’s work never seems to be affected by his feelings?).

It’s jealousy and insecurity eating away at him. Just like Jae Eon. He’s also desperate not to lose Na Bi but doesn’t want to do anything untoward or overboard because he’s afraid of ruining their friendship. Once again, his consideration is for Na Bi and how she feels, but he cannot ignore what he saw and how he feels about it.

So, what is our favorite Potato Boy to do? Park Jae Eon already made his move by staging that whole scene of him and Na Bi going into her apartment together. How does Do Hyeok fight back? What’s his playbook in this time of crisis?

He doesn’t fight back. And that’s how he stays in the game. Do Hyeok is not a player like Jae Eon; there isn’t a manipulative or deceptive bone in his body. Do Hyeok does what he always does and doubles down on his sincerity, on the strength of his feelings, and his faith in Na Bi.

Do Hyeok doesn’t play the game Jae Eon tries to involve him in. He always lays it all out on the table with Na Bi so there is no room for misunderstandings. That’s one of the reasons why their relationship works so well; they talk more. Not just about feelings or romance but about school or their day to day life. What they’re building now is something that can last a lifetime.

So he talks to her about it. And admits his jealousy. She wasn’t even aware that he had seen them and yet it sounds like he’s the one who is apologizing (even though he never let his hurt feelings show in his conversations with Na Bi, DO HYEOK YOU ARE TOO GOOD). He lays himself bare to her once more. We don’t see Na Bi’s response other than her shocked and guilty expression, which is annoying because it would definitely be interesting to see how she reciprocated his frankness.

(Underrated super cute scene between them in this episode; when they meet up at night and bring drinks for each other. It’s even the exact same drink. I was grinning like a maniac.)

But Na Bi is familiar with Jae Eon’s game. And when she finds out how badly Do Hyeok was hurt by Jae Eon’s actions (and how he involved her in it) Na Bi finally is snapped to her senses and severs the thread still binding her and Jae Eon together.

Na Bi’s choice isn’t shown as a redemptive or heroic moment. It never was supposed to be. Although I’m sure a lot of us were cheering in that moment, her moments of unrestrained grief alone afterwards are the sobering reality that love, as always, comes with a price.

Nabi’s Choice (The Review)

This is a follow up to my earlier post before episode 9 came out. So, now we see what Na Bi decides and, maybe, how it will all play out in the next episode (barring any last minute twists).

First, let’s address the still ongoing criticism I see regarding Na Bi and Do Hyeok’s relationship: lack of passion, no romantic vibes, blah blah blah. I wrote at length in a previous post why that isn’t true - at least on Do Hyeok’s part (one of the reasons why we don’t get internal monologue from Do Hyeok is because what else is he thinking about other than Na Bi?).

Na Bi, on the other hand, is still ambivalent about her feelings towards Do Hyeok. Episode 9 provided more clarity for her stance towards Jae Eon - he’s the dog shit she stepped on and was promptly wiped away in the grass - but Do Hyeok is still a mystery. Yes, she’s friendly, she cares, and genuinely enjoys being with him but the spice, the passion is missing. And that is kinda important for a romantic relationship.

Well. Look no more. Na Bi has spice for Do a Hyeok and it shows not once, but twice this episode. Where’s the passion? Jae Eon fucked around and found out. Very kind of him. Turns out Na Bi, like all of us who like Do Hyeok, will not tolerate any Do Hyeok slander and I am 100 PERCENT here for it.

There’s a scene shortly before the climatic rain fight where Na Bi is having another meeting with her assistants: the junior (does he have a name? Jin-su?) and Jae Eon. The junior talks to Na Bi about her and Park Jae Eon: the usual tired gossip of whether or not they’re dating. Na Bi waves it away like dandelion fluff.

And then the junior mentions Do Hyeok. “What about the noodle shop guy? Ever since the camp meeting, people have been saying there’s a higher chance you’re dating him.”

And Na Bi just . . . we’ve never seen this from her before, even when she broke up with Jae Eon in episode 5. Her whole demeanor turns ice cold and her voice is wicked sharp as she proceeds to shut down that avenue of questioning. The junior physically leans back from the force of her anger and wonders aloud why she’s so upset (you’re talking about her love life as gossip, idiot, why do you think she’s so upset). Jae Eon walks in and doesn’t see the foreshadowing; he just hears Do Hyeok and it feeds his jealousy.

There it is, everybody. Evidence of Na Bi’s feelings for Do Hyeok and what he means to her. Her protectiveness over him and her refusal to let him be involved in the drama surrounding herself and Jae Eon. Her desire to be the better around him; not because he asks (and he would never) but because his feelings for her make her think she might be worthy of such a love.

And then there’s the rain scene. Na Bi and Jae Eon, vulnerable in the rain. Na Bi admits to her faults in the relationship, how she brought this upon herself. No, she hasn’t been nice or good this whole time; in fact, she’s been kind of terrible. But Jae Eon revealing what he did and how it was to hurt Do Hyeok wakes her up and convinces that the time has come to end this “game”. It got Do Hyeok hurt because of her inability to end it with Jae Eon and good people don’t let that happen to people they care about.

So Na Bi ends it with Jae Eon and chooses herself. At last. And to do so, she has to cut out this malignant tumor of a relationship and, God, does it hurt so much to end it, but she gets it done and takes the first step to being a better person for herself.

The cinematography in this drama is top tier and we see her situation presented so viscerally. She’s alone, in the light, but it’s not a warm, redemptive light; it has a sickly, yellow tint and is surrounded by darkness.

But she’s still there. She still made it.

One Last Observation, I Promise

Last thing I noticed from this episode that I want to talk about: the professor’s critique of Na Bi. She specifically mentions that a good artist can inspire others and Na Bi, whether she realizes it or not, actually does do that.

Na Bi helps Do Hyeok with his videos, giving advice that helps boost their popularity and making them better.

Jae Eon is inspired to make the butterfly bracelet for Na Bi and gifts it to her.

The difference between the two? Do Hyeok actually thanks Na Bi for her help and points out that it was her influence that made his videos better.

Jae Eon obviously means his gesture to be romantic and sincere but he again fails to talk about why he’s doing it. The implication is there but Na Bi needs more than some vague nonsense.

Communication is at the heart of this episode and how, without it, relationships stagnate and fail. Bit Na + Gyu Hyun and Soljiwan couple - their relationships only progress because the couples voice their concerns and fears to one another. And instead of being rejected or being hurt, it allows their partners to reassure them and move forward with their relationship.

Why do Na Bi and Jae Eon fail? They. Don’t. Talk. Na Bi is stuck inside her head and Jae Eon relies on vague gestures and sexual chemistry to express himself.

Why do Na Bi and Do Hyeok succeed? Because they talk. About everything. Their dialogue is clear and honest and sincere without any hidden meanings or motives. And you see why Na Bi is rapidly moving more and more towards Do Hyeok and not Jae Eon.

(The preview does raise some questions about how it will all end but I don’t think the show is going to pull a bait and switch and have Na Bi end up with Jae Eon. I also don’t think it’s likely they’ll have an open ending, either. I’ll talk about that in another post.)

My next post will be what I envision to be the best version of a Na Bi and Do Hyeok endgame and what I mean by that since Na Bi shouldn’t be dating anyone right now. So, look forward to that.

Until next time, everybody. Thanks for reading this long ass post. Hope you enjoyed it.

[babyjamiebarnes]

Build-A-Bear

Part Nine

Featuring: Bucky x Stark!reader, dad!Tony, Sam, Steve

Warnings: gun-related violence (this is the primary theme so please be cautious), language, reference to smut

Summary: With reader back to work in the Tower, new threats arise and new approaches are taken to her safety. Kind of a filler but also kind of important.

Author’s Note: The next part is gonna be a 0 to 100 chapter so please hold while I hammer that out. I usually try to add multiple scenes/days/events but this is just one situation the reader is caught in. It’ll be getting to the primary climax soon though so I’m thinking maybe 3-4 parts left? Unless there’s more drama I want to add later 😈 And as always, feel free to send me a coffee!

Series Masterlist

Tags: @amourmarvel @fangirlvoice @kennedywxlsh @devilswaldorf @what-the-hap-is-fuckning @alyispunk @fredweasleysbitchh @wearegroot @sunflowerbebe107 @prestigious-tea @brckenmemories @angelbabymed

The next few weeks were thankfully uneventful. You had ordered a bed for Steve to put in the living room, including a curtain so he could have a little privacy, especially when Sam woke up extra early to start making breakfast. Bucky kept the inflatable mattress on your floor, but spent every night with you in his arms instead. “It’s safer this way,” he’d say. It was his excuse just in case your dad ever showed up unannounced.

The one time your dad did show up unannounced, Steve and Sam were at your front door with their weapons drawn and Bucky was shirtless in your bedroom doorway with his own gun aimed at your father. Fortunately, none of them were trigger-happy and lowered their weapons when they realized who it was.

Your dad learned three things that day:

1. He needed to call ahead if he planned on stopping by.

2. You were in very good hands in the safety of your apartment.

3. He wasn’t a fan of seeing a shirtless Winter Soldier leaving your bedroom — or seeing a shirtless Falcon and Captain America in your living room, for that matter.

Regardless, you were never worried about your safety when you were home, or even when the boys let you go out and about with them flanking you on every side. Needless to say, you didn’t go out much.

But you were able to go back to work at the Tower, mainly because the boys hadn’t been able to properly train or attend any missions while you were holed up at home — and it looked like things were clearing up around you. Your dad said one of them would have to stay with you even if the other two went on missions and had fortunately let you choose who that one lonely man would be. Not that you’d ever let Bucky actually be lonely.

The media buzz over you had died pretty quickly, but there were still a few relentless reporters that would crowd around you when you left Stark Tower. You always parked under the building where none of them could get in, but that didn’t stop you from going out to get lunch instead of staying inside and having it delivered. The weather was getting warmer and you wanted to get out while you could.

One gloomy Thursday, your dad decided to join you, Bucky, Sam, and Steve when you went out for your lunch. There was a falafel place just down the street that you liked, so the five of you decided to make it a group date, of sorts. Bucky was nervous at first, but you assured him it would all be fine.

“If you get a little cozy, just blame it on staying close so no one else can,” you said, holding his jaw in your hands. “You’re just keeping me safe.”

You pressed a gentle kiss to his forehead as you stood in the middle of your lab. You weren’t required to have protection while inside the Tower, but Bucky insisted on visiting when his training hours were over.

“I’ll always keep you safe,” he said softly. He pulled your hands from his cheeks and kissed your knuckles before tugging you out of the lab to meet the rest of your lunch crew at the elevators.

Now that everyone knew who you were, you were able to be more playful and casual around your dad. Things that would usually have earned you some questioning stares from your work friends instead led to laughs and high-fives. You could make jokes and digs without getting in the same kind of trouble as Sam or Bucky. Steve still had the most immunity.

That was one of those days. You and Steve poking fun at Tony and making playful jokes he was quick to quip back at. The five of you were alone in the elevator the whole trip down, probably because Tony had Friday set to not allow anyone else in when he was in the lift.

Everyone was all smiles and laughs until the elevator doors opened. You took about three steps before you were practically tackled to the ground, a loud bang followed by the sharp ding of metal on metal stunning you more than the pressure of a body pressing against yours. Before you could even comprehend what was happening, the plaster of the wall above you shattered and crumbled around you at the sound of another loud bang echoing in the Tower lobby. None of the debris actually hit you, probably because of the large, heavy body of your boyfriend curled over yours.

Since you were on your hands and knees, you turned just enough to see Bucky’s blue eyes blown wide as he looked down at you.

“Are you okay?” he asked frantically.

“I--I think so?” you replied, not entirely sure what you were supposed to be okay from. You hadn’t really processed what was happening, just that Bucky was completely covering you with his body. “Are you okay?”

He just nodded. “The bullet hit my arm, no damage.”

“The bullet?!” you half-screamed. “Is anyone hurt?” You pushed against his metal arm to see the rest of the lobby; everyone was crouched to the ground, and the sound of more bangs and dings of Tony’s suit getting hit told you why. Tony was just a couple feet from you, letting his Iron Man suit build around him, but started waving his hands at you, shouting “get her out of here!”

Bucky’s arms swooped under you and he swept you past the elevators and stairwell to a back room that only unlocked after Bucky scanned his hand in a hidden compartment. The door opened to a separate, smaller stairwell that you assume only led to the Avengers’ floors… 30 floors up.

“This way,” Bucky said, drawing your reluctant gaze from the towering steps to a hidden elevator behind the staircase. Thank god.

He quickly ushered you in and pressed the button for the private rooms. You’d never been above the common rooms, save for the one time you sat in Bucky’s room after surgery. Your eyes flicked to Bucky’s that were already trained on you looking for any injuries.

“Are you sure you’re okay?” he asked. His hands rested on your shoulders, his eyebrows furrowed as he scanned your face and body again and again.

You just nodded, still trying to process having literally been shot at. But the secret elevator was much faster than the main elevator because you arrived at Bucky’s floor seconds later. He grabbed your hand and led you to his room, keeping you close and constantly looking around even though only verified Avengers could access this floor.

“Your dad set up a whole plan in case something like this ever happened,” he explained. “We’re supposed to stay on this floor until one of them comes to get us. Chances are you’ll end up working from home again since you’re somehow safer there with us than here with everyone.”

He sounded annoyed, but you couldn’t blame him. You assumed you’d be safer in and around the Tower than in your apartment. Your apartment didn’t have all the gadgets and gizmos the Tower had. Sure, you had installed your own security system and now had constant video recording, but the Tower had Iron Man.

“Are you okay?” you asked again. Bucky looked up at you with his eyebrows drawn together, but nodded at your question. “Are… are dad, Steve, and Sam okay?”

It was harder for Bucky to answer that when he didn’t know. He silently pulled up the Tower video feed on his TV and found the main entrance. Tony already had the shooter face down on the ground with blasters aimed at him and an iron boot on his back; Steve and Sam were checking on bystanders. Knowing the rest of your little team was safe eased some of the tension in your body, but that just made it easier for you to realize you had nearly been shot.

“Thank you for saving me,” you said quietly. Bucky stepped closer to you, letting you wrap your arms around him as you forced back tears brought forward by the onslaught of fear that ran through you.

“I’ll always protect you, princess,” he said just as softly. He pressed a kiss to the top of your head and just held you. It was just as important for him to hold you as it was for you to be held by him. While his embrace helped ground you and reminded you that you were okay, it reassured him that you were safe with him.

Bucky had grown so used to being the cause of people’s fear, not their source of comfort. You changed that.

You just stood there in each other’s arms for a while, needing the security to calm both of your nerves.

“Can we just… lie down?” you asked.

Bucky had never seen you this fragile before. He always saw you as his spunky little spitfire, so seeing you gradually crack and splinter as the seconds ticked by made his own heart break. Without a word, he led you over to his bed. He laid down first, letting you curl your legs over his abdomen and rest your head against his shoulder.

“I know you’re physically okay, but do you wanna talk about it?” Bucky asked softly.

You were quiet for a second, nervously playing with the hem of his t-shirt. It took a few minutes, but the gravity of what just happened ran over you like a freight engine and your mind wasn’t having a good time trying to get back on track.

“How many shots were fired?” you finally asked.

That’s not what he wanted you to ask.

“I counted five before we got out.”

The pause before your answer just made Bucky’s nerves even more frazzled. He wasn’t used to consoling anyone. That was Sam’s specialty, not his.

“Someone tried to shoot me five times,” you said solemnly. “Someone tried to… to kill me five times.”

“Hey, no,” Bucky hushed. “We’re not doing that. When I said I’ll always keep you safe, I meant it. I can’t lose my Build-A-Bear. Those things are expensive,” he teased.

You huffed a soft laugh before snuggling your head against his chest. With his right arm wrapped around you to trace his fingertips across your skin and his left hand hooked over your calves, it wasn’t long before you fell asleep. The stress of what appeared to be an attempted assassination didn’t sit lightly on your shoulders.

Bucky managed to stay awake, slowly and carefully grabbing his remote to find something to watch until he received word to let you go.

Nearly three hours later — after Steve, Sam, and Tony had spoken with the police and tried to get some info out of the shooter — all three came barreling into Bucky’s room, quickly silenced by the sight of you sleeping on Bucky. You had adjusted your position in your sleep, slipping your body between Bucky’s legs and resting your head on his abdomen. This left him to play with your hair since you were too low for him to continue to hold. He knew you’d have one hell of a time getting to sleep later that night and probably hold your messed up sleep schedule against him until you got back on track, but he wasn’t going to wake you up.

“What’s going on?” Tony asked, more curiously than accusingly.

“Uh, she seemed pretty, um, unsettled by the whole thing and just wanted me to, to hold her,” he explained quietly and slowly, attempting to avoid revealing anything.

Tony just nodded in understanding.

“When she wakes up, I want you to find me.”

The way he said it didn’t sound upset or threatening, but Bucky felt ice shoot up his spine at your dad wanting to sit down with him — and only him. Nonetheless, he nodded as everyone left the room.

When you woke up not long after, he made sure you were okay before leaving to “talk things over with the guys,” he said.

Tony was waiting for Bucky in one of the conference rooms. He didn’t have anything with him other than his phone, so Bucky figured he wasn’t in any trouble… but that just confused him more.

“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna fire you for… cuddling with my daughter,” Tony said with a cringe. “Take a seat, please.”

Bucky hesitantly sat across from Tony, clearly still worried about what was going on. Tony’s silence was unnerving.

“[Y/N] is going back to her place full time. I’m sure you already figured that out. You three musketeers are clearly better at keeping her safe than I am. And before I continue, I need to say that Sam’s a good guy — most of the time — and Steve’s… something, usually something good, even though he loves getting on my nerves. But today, you were the first line of defense. Don’t think I missed the sound of that first shot hitting you. If you had been on the other side of her, you’d be in medbay right now having a bullet fished out of your arm.”

Tony paused again. He spun his phone in his hands, clearly working up to something and unknowingly setting Bucky on high alert. He was still waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“Steve and Sam are going to stay with her at her place, of course, but I don’t want you to leave her side,” Tony finally continued. “If she goes into the kitchen for breakfast, you’re in the kitchen getting breakfast. If she goes to the bathroom, you’re right outside the door. That mattress stays right next to her bed. When she wants to order food, you send one of the other guys and stay with her. Bucky.” Tony paused once again. He leaned forward now just to make sure the severity of what he was about to say was fully understood. He didn’t want to say it, but he knew it was the right decision. “I’m trusting you with my daughter’s life. I don’t take this shit lightly and as much as I want to dislike you… you’re the person I trust the most right now.”

Bucky couldn’t describe the emotions running through his brain. Confidence? Joy? Maybe even fear? Sure, it was nice that his boss was giving him such a huge responsibility, but it was something entirely different to hear his girlfriend’s dad say that he trusted him. Wasn’t that part of why you weren’t telling Tony? Would this change things? Could you finally be open with your relationship?

“Thank you, Tony. That really means a lot. Uh, I-I won’t let you down,” Bucky managed to squeak out.

Tony just nodded before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leaving the room. Bucky sat alone in silence for a second to fully process everything. Was it ironic? Tony Stark was trusting the man who killed his parents to now protect his daughter. But wasn’t it already fucked up that Howard and Maria’s granddaughter was knowingly and willingly dating their killer?

Bucky had gone through a lot to come to terms with his past, but moments like this cast doubt on him again. But he couldn’t dwell on it. He had to find you, Sam, and Steve to get you home.

When he got back to his room, he found all three of you sitting on his bed and talking. You were still lying against the headboard with Steve sitting criss-cross applesauce and Sam lying on his stomach. You looked like a group of high schoolers at a sleepover.

“Hey,” he said softly. You smiled and made grabby-hands at him until he sat beside you.

“Slight change of plans.”

Everyone looked at him in confusion, Sam and Steve clearly not up to date on the team’s roles.

“I just sat down with Tony and, uh, I guess I’m basically your bodyguard now.”

“You already have been for a month now,” you said with a confused laugh.

“Well, yeah, but your dad said I’m not supposed to leave your side. Like, if you move to another room, I move with you.” Your eyes widened at this. It felt excessive, to say the least. You were basically already attached at the hip, but sometimes you just need a minute to be alone. “He said I’m the one he trusts most to protect you.”

“Come on, man, you could’ve just told me to go fuck myself,” Sam joked, earning a punch to the shoulder from Steve.

“Aw, you finally got parental approval,” you cooed, cupping his jaw in your hands.

“I don’t think the approval extends to me hitting it from the back until you pass out,” Bucky chuckled. Sam whistled lowly while Steve just shook his head in disappointment (approval?).

“Speaking of hitting it from the back, we should probably get back to my place before it’s too dark,” you said.

A light knock on your door drew everyone’s attention but before you could see who it was, you toppled over at the force of Bucky shoving your body behind his. You managed to catch yourself on his shoulders to lift yourself up, wrapping your arms loosely around his neck with your head perched on his shoulder. It was admittedly very couple-y, but your dad seemed unfazed in your doorway.

“Hey pops,” you chirped.

“I see I made a good decision,” he said, noting how quickly Bucky hid you from what could’ve been a potential threat. “By the way, Barnes is in charge of this operation now. Sorry Cap.” Steve just held his hands up in surrender. You figured he didn’t mind handing the reins over for once.

“We were just about to head out,” Bucky said. You’d have to make sure this newfound power didn’t go to his head. Which just meant you’d have to get him on his knees…

“I just wanted to give you this.” He held out what looked like the remote scanner cashiers had in checkout lanes. “I know [Y/N] has been getting a lot of fan mail so this will scan up to 20 items at a time for hazardous devices, poisonous toxins, and anything else that’s potentially harmful.”

You hadn’t gone through your mail in at least a week, but you’d already gotten the green light to have the next day — a Friday, thankfully — off after what happened, so you and the boys could hammer through everything and clear off your dining room table.

“Thanks, dad.”

You hopped off the bed and wrapped your dad in a much-needed hug. You both needed one after the stress of the day gradually wore off, but you could tell he needed one even more. You had Bucky to run to; Tony was worried about you. He held you tight and gently scratched right below your neck, just like he would do to get you to fall asleep as a baby. Some things never change.

“I love you,” you said quietly.

“I love you too, pumpkin,” he replied, pressing a kiss to the top of your head. After another moment, you pulled apart and he went right back into business mode. “Okay, Rhodey and I are gonna follow you guys home in the suits just in case anything happens. Barnes, you’re in the backseat with [Y/N].”

With your dad standing behind you, he couldn’t see you mouth “backseat” to Bucky with a wink. The super soldier’s cheeks turned light pink, but so did Steve’s, which made it hard for you to keep from laughing as your dad continued discussing what changes would be made for your safety.

•

When you finally — safely — got home, you just wanted to take a bath and go to bed. You hadn’t even had supper, but you almost didn’t want to eat anything. If it hadn’t been for Bucky bringing you stuffed peppers courtesy of Sam, you probably wouldn’t have eaten. But he ate his dinner beside you on your bed, then joined you for a long, hot, bubbly bath.

Both of you knew it needed to be a slow night without saying a word. Bucky’s hands lazily ran over your skin before chasing the rinse of water with his lips. He wasn’t rushed or aggressive; he took his time and savored being with you. Even when you were lying in bed and desperately grabbing at his arms, back, shoulders, everything, his strokes were sensual and deliberate. His body acted as a fortress over yours, keeping you guarded from the rest of the world, even if it was just in your bedroom.

And as you fell asleep in his arms that night, he promised himself he would get to the bottom of your attack whether the law wanted him to or not.

[lillian-nator]

tommy and tubo think it would be funny if they just make a cult with purpled as a god, and for some reason it catches on in the rest of the group, so now sometimes they’ll just assault purpled with praise or gifts and when teachers ask what they’re doing the just say they’re pleasing god, and so now the student body and faculty have to determine whether or not this is a joke, or if this group is actually a cult. - shark

Yes that 100% actually happened. 

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

It all derived from one Spanish Class. 

None of the 3 boys are great at Spanish. They can speak basic conversational Spanish, but they hate their teacher, and goof off too much in the class to really learn the material. Luckily for them, Quackity is fluent in Spanish, so he is just a text away for a test answer, if they really need it. 

Case in point - there is no way that the three of them combined should win the end of the year Spanish Kahoot. Especially since Purpled was the best at Spanish out of the three of them, and he had been texting Ponk all class. 

Without looking up once, Purpled had guessed every single correct Kahoot answer. 

Tommy stood on their lunch table, telling the story to the intrigued Seniors. “HE HADN’T EVEN LOOKED AT THE ANSWERS GEORGE! HE JUST GUESSED THE COLORS!” 

The only answer for Purpled’s luck that Tommy and Tubbo could come up with was the fact that he must either be a gift from a god, or a fucking god himself.

And having spent almost every day with Purpled since 5th grade, Tommy and Tubbo knew that Purpled was no where near a gift from god. The kid ate one too many questionable food combinations. 

“HE MUST BE A GOD GOGY! ITS THE ONLY REASONABLE EXPLANATION!” Tommy laughed after SapNap pulled him down from the tabletop. 

“It makes sense!” Karl defends Tommy. “Purpled showed us mortals his godly powers.” 

Dream who had just came from the lunch line sat down next to Tommy, pushing Tommy’s own tray of Pizza out of the way, and putting an arm around George. “Wait - what?” 

“WAP - Worship and Prayer.” Tommy repeated, crossing his hand over his chest. 

It was right then and there when Quackity kneeled before Purpled - who still on his phone, but probably on twitter now, really just wanting to get out of school - and started recting his prayers in Spanish, that the entire table burst out laughing, some of them crying from how hard they were wheezing. 

The whole cafeteria was used to the large table being loud - nobody really cared, besides George was like the most popular guy in school, who was gonna tell him off? 

Some girls at a nearby table were listening to the conversation, but if Tommy cared he wouldn’t have yelled. Tommy was used to people listening. The whole football team sat at a table near them, and it would be a miracle if they weren’t eavesdropping on the 3 star players (SapNap, Dream, and Punz). 

George, Karl, Ponk, Tommy, Purpled, and Tubbo were apart of the soccer team, the schools second-best preforming sport (right after football), so they were up-there in popularity, as well. Not to mention half of the school simps for Gogy. 

It was safe to say that a quarter of the school heard about “Purpled’s godly powers” first hand, and by the next morning, the entire school had heard about the conversation at the lunch table.

There were definitely some stares when Tommy raced up to the blonde in the purple-sweatshirt the next morning. 

“An offering to the gods.” Tommy stated, kneeling on the ground next to Puprled’s locker, holding up a La Croix - a drink that Tommy couldn’t understand how Purpled liked, but Wilbur had left one in the fridge - to give to him. 

Purpled looks down, feeling much less tired and out of it than he had yesterday, and with a deadpan expression and monotone voice, said “The gods accept your offer.” 

In which Tommy actually folds in on himself and lays on the floor, wheezing so hard that he can barely breath. 

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

Every so often, when Purpled will get a good score on a test, or just when the group feels like being absolute idiots, they will shower Purpled with praises and offerings to the gods. 

Once Purpled had scored the winning goal at the soccer team’s state championship, to which, the 5 others there, had held Purpled in the air, shouting prayers in his direction. 

Tommy had promptly shouted “WAP”

In which the others followed with a monotone: “Worship and Prayer!” 

Leaving the coach, and their other teammates speechless. 

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

The faculty was confused to say the least. 

A group of boys who don’t really seem like they should fit together, all getting on their knees in front of a freshman. 

I mean, it’s quite an assortment of boys, and the teachers had never seen a group quite like this before. They had also never seen a Senior bow down to a Freshman before. 

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

So heaven knows what Mr. Evans, Tommy’s English Teacher, is supposed to do when Dream, George, and SapNap barge into his English class - along with Tommy who was running late that morning - and each gave Purpled a doughnut, said their thanks, and promptly fled the room. Leaving a gaping Mr. Evans behind. 

Tommy sat down calmly holding two coffees and looking way too tired to have entered class the way he did. He handed Purpled one of the coffees, mumbling “To the gods” before he immediately put his head down in his arms, where Mr. Evans assumed that he slept for the rest of class. 

Once the bell rang, Purpled shook Tommy awake, who grabbed his coffee on the desk - his backpack still on his back from when he entered - and got up to leave. 

Mr. Evans pulled the two teens aside, watching as the other students left the classroom. “What the hell was that, Mr. Analine?” (tommy’s last name - shortened version). 

Tommy looked more ticked-off than anything. “I was pleasing the gods, sir.” 

To which, he handed Mr. Evans a tardy slip, and left with Purpled trailing behind him, leaving the teacher with his mouth agape, wondering “What the does that mean?” 

It now becomes a running question throughout the facility, 

1. Are they a cult? Or is this some sort of sick joke?  2. How the hell did a Freshman convince multiple upperclassmen that they were a god?  And:  3. Can they stop it? 

[perfectpaperbluebirds]

@sicktember Prompt # 6: Nebulizer

Title: A Friend in Need

Fandom: Criminal Minds

Based on this post (Nebulizer)

Spencer Reid doesn't have the strongest lungs, and this isn't his first go-round with a nebulizer, but that doesn't make him hate it any less. When he falls asleep with it running, the team makes sure he gets his medicine and his rest.

(Author's note: so excited to try my hand at writing this fandom! I've recently rediscovered this show and I forgot how much I love these characters.)

Spencer Reid always avoided the spotlight, and today he hoped to attract even less attention than usual as he returned from sick leave after a severe chest infection. So naturally, as soon as the elevator opened onto the bullpen, every single person turned to look at him. He reddened immediately, trying to hide the case holding his nebulizer as he shuffled awkwardly to his desk, coughing softly.

JJ approached him immediately, closely followed by Agents Hotchner and Rossi.

"What are you doing here, Spence? I thought you were going to be off for the rest of the week," JJ said with a little frown. "You're still looking pretty sick."

Reid met their stares --Rossi's concerned, Hotch's disapproving and JJ's worried-- with his own pleading look. "I just… really need to get back into some sort of routine. I can't sit at home doing nothing for five more days. I know I'm not at 100% yet, but I've already been off for two weeks, and I don't want to miss any more time. And I'm doing a lot better than I was. I just want to be here to help."

Hotch's stern look deepened. "I don't approve of this, Reid. You look like you could sleep for a week. But I'm not going to kick you out if you really want to be here. You're not cleared for the field though. Paperwork only."

"Paperwork only." Reid nodded. "That's all I want." 

"Ok. And if you need to leave, please do. I'm not signing any time slips for you this week. From an administrative standpoint, you're home until Monday."

"I get it," Reid nodded again. "Thanks, Hotch." JJ and the unit chief walked away, talking softly and casting him worried looks.

"Take it easy, this week Spencer. Don't overdo it," Rossi warned as he too turned to walk away.

"I will. Hey Rossi-- I'll… need to use the nebulizer over lunch. Where's a good place for me to plug it in? I don't have any extra outlets over here," Reid asked, highly embarrassed.

"You can use my office, kiddo. There's an outlet behind the couch. Go in whenever you need."

"Thanks a lot."

"Any time."

As soon as he walked away, Prentiss and Morgan took his place. 

"Reid, you're here!" Emily leaned over to give him a quick hug. "We missed you."

"Welcome back, kid," Morgan added.

"I missed you guys too. It's good to be back."

Emily had kept a hand on his shoulder and now placed it against his neck with a little frown. "You still feel pretty feverish to me, though. Are you sure you're ok to be here?"

"I have a low-grade fever that I can't shake. It always happens when I get these infections. My doctor said I'm no longer contagious and can start slowly returning to normal activity though."

"Hmm. You're not going out to the field though, right?"

"No, I'll stay back until Hotch clears me."

"Good." She gave him another hug. "It's really good to see you though."

"Thanks, Emily."

"You need breathing treatments now?" Morgan asked, nodding at the nebulizer case.

Reid reddened yet again. "Just for a few weeks to strengthen my lungs. I… needed the nebulizer a lot as a kid, and when I get really sick now, it… helps."

"Hmm. Well just… take it easy, ok? You're not looking so hot, and we need that brain of yours at 100%. Don't overdo it."

"I won't, Morgan."

The hours ticked by as usual. Mentally, Spencer was doing much better back at work and being productive. Physically, he was struggling. The persistent fever sapped his energy and made him shaky, and the constant coughing over the past few weeks had fried his nerves. His cough ebbed and flowed with the medication, and as lunch approached, it started to become even more of a nuisance, enough so that he began to attract looks from everyone nearby when he would have his fits. 

JJ, Hotch, and Rossi had left a few hours before to attend some communications briefings. When noon rolled around and they hadn't returned, Reid decided it was as good a time as any for his treatment. He surreptitiously brought the nebulizer to Rossi's office and got it set up. 

The office was warm and peaceful, away from the constant worried looks from everyone. Reid leaned back and got comfortable on the couch holding the mask for the nebulizer to his face. However, he hadn't realized how much even the light activity of the morning had worn him out, and in moments he found himself dozing off to the machine's rhythmic humming. His hand kept dropping away from his face as he struggled to stay awake, the mist spraying everywhere except where it was supposed to. 

Shortly after he turned on the machine, Emily, who had been keeping tabs on him, glanced in the window of Rossi's office  and took stock of the situation. Seeing Reid falling in and out of consciousness, she opened the door and crept in without hesitation. Sitting beside him on the couch, she picked up the mask from where he'd dropped it and held it to his face for him. The next time Reid woke, he jumped to find her beside him. She gave him a friendly wink, keeping her hand on the mask.

"I've got this. You just rest for a bit."

His brow furrowed, and she saw he considered protesting, but after a moment he gave her a grateful look and let his eyes slip closed.

A few moments later, Garcia poked her head in, having seen Emily enter the office and not come back out. She assessed the scene in her expert way, and sympathy filled her face.

"Aww, poor baby! He looks so sick," Garcia whispered.

"He's burning up," Emily murmured. "He shouldn't have come in."

"Let me get him a blanket so he can get a good nap." She scurried off to her office and returned in record time with a fluffy, zebra print blanket that she gently arranged over top of him. Then she perched on the edge of the desk, whispering that she wanted to keep them company for a while.

Morgan poked his head in next, also quickly taking in the scene before he spoke. "Prentiss, they're looking for you in the conference room. They have some questions on your last batch of reports."

"Aww, ok. Could you…?" she gestured to Spencer. 

"Yeah, I've got it." Derek and Emily seamlessly traded places. Reid hardly stirred. Morgan and Garcia exchanged little smiles as they sat, but otherwise peaceful silence reigned.

By the time the treatment was almost finished, Prentiss had returned with Rossi, Hotch, and JJ behind her. The whole team crammed into Rossi's office, watching Spencer sleep for a moment. 

"I'm sending him home as soon as he wakes up," Hotch muttered.

"Why? He wants to be here. He's just like the rest of us… we don't do well with too much alone time. Let him stay here and sleep if he wants," Garcia replied gently. 

Hotch's only reply was a grunt as the team continued to share the quiet moment of peace.

[leafs-lover]

If He's Lucky I'll Let Him Join

Part 6: Things shift

Series Masterlist

A/N: Sorry for the delay on this, hope you like it. I only plan on 2 maybe 3 more parts of this.

Warnings: Swearing, smut (oral female receiving) unprotected sex (wrap it kids), voyeurism, 18+

Word Count: 6600

April 8, 2021

A: Hey want to go for a walk with Felix and I?

You stare at your screen for a few minutes, the message sitting on read. Since giving Auston your number a week and a half ago he has text you three times. Two were pictures of Felix, and the third was a meme.

The Leafs had a few days off during that stretch, you saw Fred a little but you haven’t seen Auston since you left his house. You also haven’t told Fred about Auston, and since he hasn’t brought it up you don’t think Auston told him.

It’s not that you did anything wrong or cheated on Fred; you aren’t in a relationship, with either man. You haven’t talked about what you are, or where this is heading, if anywhere. The season is almost half over and you have no idea what will happen after that. Last time the season ended you barely heard from Fred for three months, and Auston almost 4.

When you agreed to sleep with Auston, you never specified it would only be with Fred, only in threesome situations. You never discussed the dynamics of you and Auston, and what the boundaries were. You know all of this.

Yet something feels wrong. Like you shouldn’t have done that behind Fred’s back and you shouldn’t keep doing it without with Fred knowing. That you should talk to Fred before you and Auston sleep together again, assuming you do sleep with him again. You don’t even know if you want to sleep with him when it’s just Auston. Not that you had a bad time, it was far from it. You just don’t know what it means, if anything.

There is so much you are uncertain of, all you know is how you felt about Fred last year. Things were going great, and you talked about summer plans. They were loose plans like being his plus 1 to a teammates wedding, going up to the Muskoka’s for a weekend with Mitch and Steph. He even mentioned a five day trip to Iceland, though that seemed unlikely to happen given the amount of planning required. But everything was heading towards a relationship until the world stopped.

And now a year later, the world is spinning. People are getting vaccinated everywhere except Canada; but they say they are coming, and the countries with vaccinated people are easing restrictions. Everything seems to be heading for a new normal, but where does that leave you and Fred?

Some nights you feel like a set of holes for him to use like target practice. But other times you wake up to Fred gently brushing your hair, legs tangled beneath the sheets placing soft kisses on your forehead or shoulder and you feel like so much more.

Intimate dinners.

Sex.

Cute text messages.

Sex.

Lazy Sundays.

Sex.

Bubble baths together.

Sex.

So much back and forth, it’s very confusing. And that’s just with Fred, you can’t even begin to understand the dynamic of Auston.

He has been a roller coaster, and not just the way he throws you around in bed. The first time he was dominant, but ended it with a soft kiss. The kiss lingered on your lips for days, your mind was swirling from it. Sometimes his eyes are dark and full of fire, but other times you get glimpses of him and that kiss.

Sure you had some feelings for Auston last year, but you told yourself they were feelings of lust. Completely, 100% sexually driven. But they were just feelings of sex right? Just the heat developing in your core from being around him fogging the sense and reason of your brain.

Auston finds moments to wrap his arms around you, placing soft kisses on your forehead or your lips. Doesn’t matter if Fred is in the other room or 5 feet away he will do it. While he drives his hard dick into your walls, he’ll have eyes dark with hunger. But after they are soft, and he doesn’t hesitate to lay soft and passionate kisses on your lips while Fred is lying inches beside you.

He exudes so much dominance, both men do. You are actually surprised it doesn’t turn into a pissing match with them, but they direct it all to you. They let you think you are in control, but the first chance they get they take over. Spilling words of venom, pulling orgasm after orgasm, juices coating their cocks and fingers.

The sight alone is enough to send you home with an ache between your legs. They are patient while you are with the other one, knowing their turn is coming. Not too patient though. But through all of it they don’t fight or get jealous of you.

Until last week ago that is, running into Auston in the elevator.

When he was hovering over you, kissing along the marks Fred had left earlier in the day, you got the feeling he was jealous you had spent time with him. You don’t know if it’s because he wasn’t there or that he didn’t like that you were sleeping with someone other than him, but he seemed bothered by it. But he would be naïve to think you and Fred only sleep together with him right?

An hour before that he was mumbling in your ear while cuddling on his couch. He looked at you like he wanted to hold you tight to his chest and never let you leave. Maybe it’s just a part of who he is, how he plays girls. You know he has a reputation around Toronto, besides his performance on the ice. There are rumours that over his first four seasons he has a revolving door of women while on road trips.

Obviously this year with Covid he has been much more mellow, no rumours or stories. But you don’t know if there is any truth to the rumours, you don’t know if he’s sleeping with other women. Not on road trips, the league has strict protocols in place for road teams. But at home they are supposed to follow local health guidelines. He could easily have another girl, and you are just someone he uses when called upon.

Maybe you are just a piece for him to bide his time with until restrictions are loosened, just an easy solution with the leagues COVID protocol’s. Or maybe he sees you as something more. Either way it’s all very convoluted.

Fingers hovering over your screen you mull over everything. Just before you go to type three little dots pop up as if he can sense your hesitation. You decide to wait before replying and are met with a selfie of him and Felix cuddling in bed, tattooed arm fully on display due to his lack of shirt. A “please play with me Y/N” text obviously supposed to be from Felix coming in immediately afterwards.

You can’t help the way your legs snap shut, rubbing together in search of friction. Or the involuntary groan that tumbles out as you stare at over his arm and down to his abs. But it’s the big beady eyes of Felix that win you over and without a second thought you quickly reply with a yes.

**

“Miss, I think you dropped your keys,” you hear someone call out. Ignoring it you pan around the somewhat busy street. Car horns are sirens are heard on the streets, wind howling between the buildings making the air crisp against your face. A hand gently touches your arm and you quickly spin around on your heels, wide eyed. “Sorry,” he chuckles seeing the shock on your face “I called out but I don’t think you heard me. Are these yours?”

He holds up a keychain in your view and you sigh slightly, “yes, thank you.”

When getting ready you decided to leave your purse at home, they aren’t the most convenient while walking a dog. You threw your debit card, TTC pass, phone and keys into your pocket. Arriving out front the coffee shop a couple minutes ago your hands were cold so you reached into your pocket for your gloves.

“No problem,” he smiles.

Scanning over his face you immediately notice his bright blue eyes grazing over your face. Thick flowing dark brown hair sticks out under his Montreal Canadians ball cap, a short scruffy beard on his chiseled jaw. He looks familiar but you can’t place it.

He is tall, similar in height to Auston and Fred. Even through his black peacoat you can tell his shoulders are just as wide. A red scarf gently popping out under the collar of his jacket. “I’m Josh,” he says, and you see him smile once again, instantly you think that it is just the best smile you have ever seen.

“Hi, I’m Y/N,” you smile back.

“Can I buy your coffee? “he asks glancing to the shop behind you. “I assume that’s why you’re here,” he chuckles. “It’s not free though, it’ll cost you a half hour of your time through the park.”

You chuckle slightly, if you weren’t supposed to meet Auston in a few minutes you would struggle to say no. His wide smile and soft eyes are drawing you in, but on top of that he seems nice. Someone you would actually have a good afternoon chatting with. “I’m actually meeting someone,” you reply.

“Oh that’s a shame, I’m leaving Toronto in a few hours. Think I can get your number; take you out when I come back?”

Before you can answer you feel Felix brush against your legs and let out an excited bark. He jumps up on you almost knocking you over and you immediately feel Auston’s hands on your hips and Josh grip your elbow, holding you upright. Auston mumbles some bullshit to Felix about manners, but you ignore it. Trying to focus on the eager pup, when in actuality you feel fire ignite where their hands connect to you.

“Hey man,” Josh says to Auston releasing your elbow.

“Hey Josh,” Auston says politely stepping beside you. You immediately sense the tension, Auston puffing his chest keeping on hand on the small of your back. Josh’s gaze flicks between you and Auston a little, realizing this is the person you are meeting but he doesn’t seem too bothered by it. You take a harsh swallow, the cold Toronto air burning your throat.

Tick tock, tick tock.

You have no longer how long you all have been standing there, likely only a few seconds but time feels like it has stopped. The only sound besides passing cars is the excited whines and yelps Felix lets out while he circles around your feet. Shifting awkwardly you stare between the two men not wanting to be the first to make a move. Finally Auston clears his throat glaring at Josh, pulling you in tighter to his chest. So close you can smell his cologne.

“Well I’m going to grab my coffee. Nice meeting you y/n,” Josh smiles, stepping around you to go through the door.

“A Hab really?” Auston jokes kissing your cheek, following Josh with his eyes until the door shuts behind him. His lips are warm on your cool skin, eyes look slightly heavy from the previous night's game, and dark curls pop out under the toque he’s wearing that barely covers his ears.

“What?” you ask confused, bending down to pet Felix who is still enthralled by your presence.

“Josh,” he nods inside and you shake your head shooting him a puzzled look. “That’s Josh Anderson. He plays for the Montreal Canadians.”

“Oh that’s why he looked familiar,” you say glancing back inside briefly, you watched the game last night and you remember him. He looks a little different without the equipment or covered in sweat, but his thick hair and smile is what stood out to you. Felix takes the opportunity to kiss your cheek causing you to laugh and look back at Auston. “You watch him for a sec so I can get our drinks?” Auston asks, handing you the leash.

Josh comes out first saying goodbye to you and giving Felix a few pets before making his way down the street. Auston is out not too long after, 2 paper cups in hand. You try to hand the leash back, but he tells you to keep it, feeding you some line about Felix being happy to see you. You know Felix doesn’t care who holds his leash, he is just happy to be on a walk but you aren’t going to object.

It’s only been two days since you saw him. Fred watched him for the Leaf’s short road trip and you spent some time over there during it. While Fred went to physio you would take him on long walks, walks too long for Fred and his knee right now. Fred joked about how close you were thinking it’s the first time you met him.

You took naps on the couch and played with him. He followed you around everywhere, whining and clawing at the door when Fred locked him out for an hour. When you finally opened the door he almost tackled you with his excitement. That night when you went to go to bed he climbed between the two of you resting his head on your chest while you fell asleep, gently petting the top of his head. Every time you saw him Felix would be more excited than the last.

“Thought you Canadians are inferior to the cold,” Auston jokes when a strong wind gust blows from the lake and through the streets. Shivering you pulling your zipper up further, pulling your toque further down your ears.

“Lets go warm up, my place is only a couple blocks away,” he puts a hand on your back to guide you. It’s the smallest contact, a slight brush against your back before his hand falls into his pocket for warmth. But through your jacket and sweater your skin burns from the ever so slight touch.

Stepping into the lobby you instantly feel the warmth of his building hit your face. “You had a good game last night,” you smile knowing he can’t see it through your mask.

“Woah you actually watched,” he teases, pulling his mask over his face.

“Yeah, you know hanging around hockey players all the time figured I should watch a game or two,” you joke. “You know with not teaching I have some spare time.”

“I’m glad you find time in your busy schedule to watch me on TV.” You give him a playful nudge hitting the button for the elevator. “How is it going with work? Find anything yet?” he asks, bending down to give Felix some pets for patiently waiting.

“No, all schools in Ontario go 100% online Monday so there are a lot of us in the same situation right now across the province. I’m sure something will come along I’m not too worried right now.”

“You’re smart, you’ll figure something out,” he says looking up at you. His black mask is covering half of his face, but from the creases beside his eyes you can tell he is smiling at you. Before you can reply you hear the doors creak open and turn your attention to it.

You notice a body in the elevator who shifts into the corner to make space. Taking a step in you are met by a tall man with broad shoulders, hood of his Nike sweater pulled over his red hair, mask covering half of his face. But you immediately recognize the eyes, stopping you in your tracks.

Auston walks into your back not realizing you stopped and Felix jumps up at his feet. Fred stares at the two of you for a second with a look of confusion, blinking a few times. Like he doesn’t believe it’s actually you behind the mask; but his eyes soften and he turns his attention to the eager pup. You shift uncomfortably, eyes darting between Auston and Fred. Auston looks unphazed a small smirk tugging on his lips.

“What’s going on?” Fred asks standing up, still petting Felix’s head.

“Just grabbed some coffee,” you say quietly.

“Yeah just hanging out,” Auston adds in. “What about you?”

“Just getting home from the rink, was gonna see if you wanted to hangout.”

Auston glances over at you briefly before back to his friend, “yeah for sure man,” Auston replies. Stepping off the elevator on Auston’s floor the three of you head towards his apartment. The two of them chat about something from the game last night, almost oblivious to the fact you are there while you trail a few steps back.

Once inside Auston takes of Felix’s leash and wanders to the kitchen to get him some fresh water. Fred lingers once his shoes are off watching you remove your jacket and boots. Once you hang up your coat Fred’s hands are on your hip backing you against the door, handle digging into your back, “you two having fun.”

His words hang thick in the air, stepping closer he pushes you in further, his breath hot on your neck. When you don’t reply he squeezes your hips, driving the handle further into your back causing you to hiss out a yes. His musty cologne and hot breath has moisture pooling between your legs, the only thing holding you up is his nails digging into your skin.

“Hmm,” he hums as you take a few uneasy breaths. “How long has this been going on smuk,” he places soft open mouth kisses on your neck waiting for you to reply.

“Uh...” you stutter, voice catching in your throat when he nips your skin. “Just the,” you mumble groaning, “one other time

“Cute,” he mumbles placing a kiss to your cheek, the edge of his lips brushing the corner of yours. Pulling back slightly he smirks at you and turns his gaze down the hall, smugness plastered on his face while he locks eyes with Auston who silently watches the exchange.

Your chest heaves and you swallow dryly taking a minute. Without another word he leaves you trying to catch your breath while he walks down the hall. Craning your head slightly you see Auston at the other end watching the entire interaction. Expressionless he follows Fred to the couch, as you try to compose yourself.

You don’t know why but you contemplate walking down the hall and saying you aren’t feeling well and heading home. But that seems obvious. And Fred didn’t seem mad did he?

The three of you sit on the couch, Felix circling, constantly bringing someone a toy or whining for pets. It’s a lazy afternoon and easy, the boys watching some golf tournament that you have no interest in. Fred mindlessly runs circles over your ankle while they chat, your head resting on his pillow.

His touch is soft but soothing. Every circle he draws you feel your blood pressure drop before you finally are at ease. Fred is smiling, Auston laughs at something he said. Everything seems fine, like you worked yourself up over nothing.

“So y/n has the hots for Josh Anderson,” Auston says part way through golf which immediately catches your attention, turning your gaze from Felix to the boys. Auston has a smug look plastered on his face while he winks at you, and Fred has a dark mischievous grin.

“Oh yeah,” Fred grins as you feel your cheeks heat up.

“Apparently we aren’t doing a good enough job,” Auston grins and your eyes go wide. You hear Fred laugh lightly squeezing your ankle tightly.

“Never said that,” you whisper, so faintly you aren’t even sure you spoke. Fred’s hand on your ankle tightens and he pulls you so you’re back is flat to the couch. Quickly his body is on yours, pinning your wrists to the couch at your side.

“Is that true baby? Are me and Auston not satisfying you? Not fulfilling your needs?” he murmurs eyes locked down at you. His chest presses into you, the air around you shifting. You try to swallow, but your throat is dry being starved of saliva.

“Pretty sure he asked you a question princess.” You didn’t even notice but Auston moved across the room, his mouth is millimeters from your ear.

Tilting your head slightly, you feel a hand on your jaw holding you in place, forcing your gaze up to Fred. You aren’t even sure whose hand it is until you feel the leather bracelet brush your neck and immediately know its Auston.

“What do you say man, should we take her to your room? Show her how good she has it,” Fred doesn’t pull his eyes away, while his comments are fully directed at Auston. Another display of his dominance over you making the slick between your legs build even more. “Make her regret even mentioning thinking of him”

You practically can hear the smugness oozing off the man beside you, only answering a quick but firm, “yes.”

Fred’s body is off yours as fast as he was on you. In an instant he easily throws you over his shoulder, carrying you down the hall to Auston’s room. Once back on your feet they begin to remove your clothing. Fred on your right, Auston on your left, both sucking on your neck working in unison; articles of clothing littering his bedroom floor, leaving you in just your matching underwear. If it wasn’t for the two hot bodies pressed against you goosebumps would be popping all over your body.

Auston unclasps your bra, sliding his tongue along your collarbone. Fred sucks on your neck when you hear fabric ripping, your underwear being torn off of you. Fred smirks against you, knowing you have been on them for all the shredded underwear they have left you with over the last three months, but neither seems to care.

Auston’s hand makes work of your breast, massaging and pinching the nipple. Gently rolling it through his thumb and index finger while Fred manipulates your legs apart, thrusting two thick digits inside of your folds. The unexpected nature causes you to whine while both men chuckle against you.

“Most women would be happy to have one man and you have two” Auston murmurs.

“Let’s make sure she never thinks about him again,” Fred sneers. Your head falls back and you begin to moan louder, his fingers quickly thrusting in and out of you. Auston’s other hand roams your back, sliding down to your ass, giving you firm squeezes to roll your hips forward further onto Fred’s digits.

If it wasn’t for both men on either side practically supporting your entire body weight, your knees would buckle. Fred pulls away slightly to get a better look at you, to watch you fall apart over his fingers. Your gaze meets his and his pupils are dilated, black with lust.

Increasing his fingers, thumb finding your clit you know you won’t last much longer. Incoherent thoughts are all you can manage, whimpers and curse words falling from your lips.

“Hear how wet you are princess?” Auston’s mouth is pressed against your ear. One hand cupping your breast his other firmly squeezing your ass. “Freddie’s hand is coated because of you,” he mumbles, you head a chuckle from the man on your right.

“This is nothing,” Fred asserts, but before you can process the weight of his words your orgasm crashes over you. Knees trembling, walls fluttering; blood pulsates through your body causing you to groan loudly.

As soon as you come down the boys release you and you almost fall over. Walking like a newborn deer on ice, you make your way to the bed while both men quickly strip. There must have been a silent exchange because Auston is quickly sitting in the middle of the mattress pulling you towards him.

Your back is to his chest and you can feel his hard erection pressed into your back as he brushes your hair aside exposing one side of his neck for him. “How many do you think it’ll take princess?” he hums his voice soft in your ear. “How many until you can’t even remember Josh’s name anymore?”

His words go right to your core, vibrating through your folds. Your chest heaves and your body shudders thinking of his statement. You know the question is rhetorical, but even if you had a number it wouldn’t be enough.

Fred stands at the end of the bed, eyes switching between yours and the slick dripping between your legs. Every time his eyes drop they stay a little longer, licking his lips at the sight. You begin to feel like a piece of meat and both men have been starved of food for weeks. You move your legs to close them, but Auston’s hands quickly grip your thighs holding you open for him.

Fred shakes his head while Auston rasps, “you know better than that princess,” in your ear; digging his thumbs into your flesh. Your entire body shivers and you take an uneasy exhale, knowing you are in for it. Quickly Fred crawls onto the bed, making his way towards your heat while someone, you aren’t sure who, bends your knees. Fred places soft kisses on the inside of your thigh and knee. The thought of what he will do has you dizzy. Flattening his tongue he licks up the mess from before, your entire body jolts but Auston firmly grips your legs open holding you is place.

“Such a good girl,” he mumbles as Fred laps up all your juices. A few more licks and Fred thick fingers find your heat, curling back inside you “taste so good hun” he adds.

Throwing your head back against Auston’s shoulder you groan “fuck,” but all it does is give him a better view.

“Look at you taking Fred’s fingers,” Auston hums as you feel Fred’s mouth attach to your clit. Auston’s voice is hot and heavy, Fred’s fingers hitting your g-spot with every thrust and soon your second orgasm is building deep inside you.

“Oh fuck,” you hiss while Fred’s tongue circles your clit, swirling in a figure eight on a continuous loop.

“You gonna cum again princess,” Auston says in your ear. “Coat his face?”

Incoherent sounds fall from both sets of your lips. You’re so wet that the obscene sound of his fingers fucking in and out of you makes your entire body heat up. Between both of their sinful mouths, Fred’s attached to your cunt and Auston’s whispering a string of filth on your ear, you are right back on the edge. Your heels dig into the mattress and it’s only a matter of time. Auston’s mouth purring in your ear, Fred’s tongue carefully circling your clit is more than you can take.

Your second orgasm rolls through you, little fires exploding in your hear. Fred slows slightly to draw it out while Auston holds you firm against his chest and you tremble in his embrace. His dick twitches against your back watching as white spills out. You sag against Auston’s chest, body tingling as your juices coat Fred’s face.

Pulling away from your heat your fog begins to settle. Fred has a dark smile, his beard coated in your slick heat. “What do you think does she need one more? Or should we fuck her ‘til she can’t walk anymore?” Fred says to Auston.

“She definitely needs one more,” Auston replies, hands digging harshly into your thighs keeping them spread apart.

“Ungh,” is all you can whimper in response, closing your eyes to take a few uneasy breaths while your legs relax, falling back to the mattress.

There must have been an exchange between the two or maybe you are still coming down from your high and don’t hear the question, but you do hear Auston say, “all you man I’m really enjoying the view.”

A hand is on your throat pulling your face away from Auston’s shoulder. Next a pair of lips are on yours, in a hot and hungry way. Immediately you know it’s Fred; not from the facial hair but the taste of yourself on his tongue.

Fingers are thrust back inside you, but your groans are swallowed by Fred’s mouth. Auston throws his calves over your shins, keeping you spread for his friend while his hands trail up your body. One finds your breast, the other finding your clit, thumb concentrating on pressing harsh circles into it.

Your pussy quivers at the contact it all becoming a lot. It’s almost too much. And then you feel Auston’s mouth on your neck and you know its game over. Being sandwiched between these men, fingers and tongues all over your skin has you pulling away from Fred for some much needed air.

“Holy fuck,” you moan, your eyes rolling into the back of your head, beads of sweat are rolling down the valley of your breasts. Your scream gets ripped from your throat and your vision goes white, wave after wave of euphoria rolling through you. Both men groan as your warmth spills around Fred’s wrist and onto the bed.

“God you are so beautiful when you cum,” Auston groans in your ear.

“Bet Josh would never make you feel like that,” Fred mumbles, finally pulling his fingers from you. Grabbing your jaw he forces your mouth open, shoving his fingers inside for you to lick clean. You have barely caught your breath and almost choke, but quickly work to clean your slick from his finger.

“Fuck, baby, just like that,” he purrs. Pulling away he lands beside you on the mattress, Auston quickly crawls out from behind. Falling backwards landing on the mattress, Fred brushes your sweaty hair from your forehead mumbling something to you in Danish.

Before you can react Auston in between your legs, hands on the back of your ankles pulling you closer, his throbbing tip pressing against your entrance “Remember the word,” Fred asks.

“Yeah,” you barely manage to say, throat incredibly dry.

“What is it,” Auston asks, waiting to continue.

“Yellow,” you manage to whisper through some uneasy breaths.

“You okay,” Auston asks, and you turn your head to stare up at him with a nod, tears resting in the edge of your eyes.

“You have to say it,” Fred says softly.

“M’okay” you say smiling at the softness of the two men, no matter how dominant or aggressive they are they always make you’re okay.

With that Auston thrusts inside your walls, Fred’s handiwork providing an easy lubrication so he gives you no time to adjust. Snapping his hips he sets a fast pace eyes dark and staring between your legs, watching his thick cock slide in and out of your sopping cunt. Pulling your bottom lip through your teeth you whimper, warm tears now rolling down your cheek.

“Just be thankful he is letting you off easy by being on top,” Fred winks rolling onto his side gently pressing his lips into your shoulder.

Wrapping your legs around his waist he snaps his hip, “figured she could use a minute,” he grunts. “But only a minute,” his hands are on your hips and he forcefully pulls you back increasing his pace causing you to cry out.

“Y/N,” Auston calls forcing you to whine as your head turns. “I think you should say thank you to Fred for taking such good care of you earlier,” he nods down to Fred’s hard member resting beside your hand. You honestly don’t think you could do much even if you tried, but when you slowly turn to meet Fred’s gaze he smiles at you.

“It would be nice if you said thank you skat,” Fred mumbles, sucking on your sweet spot beside your ear. Reaching out you wrap your hand around his length giving him a few slow tugs.

“Faster baby,” Fred mumbles, his words vibrating through your body. You try to set a fast pace, but Auston quickly has you distracted. Every thrust is hard and deep, brushing your g-spot before he pulls back. He knows exactly what he wants, each thrust calculated as he drags his cock along your walls. Every time he pounds into you your hand stutters around Fred’s length, but he’s loving it, smirking against your neck.

Each time Auston hits your g-spot you squirm and he is getting off on it. His eyes getting darker and darker, a grin tugging on his lips a little more each time. Fred continues to pepper your collar bone with kisses before working his way down your chest and back up again. His mouth is everywhere when his thumb attaches to your clit.

“Fuck Fred,” you jolt from the contact.

“Pretty sure it’s Auston making you feel this good,” Fred mumbles in your ear. “He’s the one with his dick buried inside you right now.”

Every statement is accompanied by harder faster circles on your bundle of nerves. Nails gripping your hips harder, cock sliding in and out faster. “He feel good baby?” Fred hums. “He feel good stretching you out? You’re taking him so well, you gonna cum all over his cock?”

“Fuck she’s close,” Auston announces as if you and Fred didn’t know. Releasing your hand from Fred’s cock you feel your body erupt around Auston’s dick.

If you thought the first three were intense, the fourth is pure fireworks. Every extremity is tingling and you feel lightning bolts erupt inside. Your walls flutter and both men groan as you disintegrate under Auston, melting into the bed. Neither man stops and soon you are met by Auston’s sticky warmth flooding your walls. He grunts and slows his hips, a few shallow thrusts and he spills everything he has inside you.

Fred pops his head up and looks towards your cunt, watching his friend coat your insides white. Momentary confusion crosses his face before turning back to you. Apart from the first time which Auston didn’t mean to, he has never once spent inside of you. Always spilling on your ass, tits or sometimes thrusting his cock inside your mouth so you can swallow it down. He doesn’t know when you and Auston fucked last week you told him can doesn’t need to pull out. He doesn’t know how every time over the past three months you have a moment of disappointed when Auston pulls out of you. How you are excited for your pussy to overflow with a mixture of both men’s cum.

Auston pulls out and falls beside you and Fred’s face softens. He smiles at you, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lip as he takes in your face. Absolutely fucked out and flush, hair a mess, splayed across the bed, makeup likely smeared down your cheek. Licking your lips you pull Fred’s face down for a searing earth shattering kiss.

Your hand tangles into his roots, his thumb drawing circles just below your ribcage. Tongue sliding into the others mouth and you tug harder trying to pull him on top of you but he doesn’t budge. Instead he falls onto his back pulling you on top of him.

“We all can’t go easy on you,” Fred winks while adjusting you over him. A mixture of sticky white fluids spill out and onto Fred while he lines himself up.

“Got one more in ya princess? You gonna cum for Freddie like you did me?” Auston asks and you shake your head, body barely functioning at this point.

“Oh baby we all know you do”

“Umph,” you mewl as he easily pulls you down, Auston’s cum spilling out around his girth.

Your hand quickly lands on Fred’s stomach, his abs covered in a thin layer of sweat. Your breath hitches when he bucks his hips while you try and take a minute, slowly grinding your hips, trying to compose yourself as best you can.

“Cocks not gonna ride itself,” Auston chortles from beside you.

Your eyes go wide and Fred smirks, shooting you a wink, you start rising and dropping around him, Fred bucking his hips to press deep inside you. Feeling his tip almost in your belly a slew of curse words fall from your lips. With every thrust you can feel more of Auston’s cum spilling out. A part of you thinks Fred thrusts up and pulls your hips down so harshly to fuck it out of you, but either way you are heading back towards the edge.

“That’s right take me deep baby,” Fred praises his back arching off the bed slightly.

You can tell he is enjoying watching you squirm above him. Your overly sensitive cunt barely able to take any more. Luckily the time you spent with your hand wrapped around him earlier means his high is close too.

“You’re taking me so well, baby girl,” Fred praises.

“You gonna cum for him like you did for your me, huh? Milk his cock for all it’s worth?” Auston asks, drawing your gaze to his dark brown orbs. You had almost forgot Auston was there, you are barely able to focus on Fred the pound driving up into your cervix let alone the man beside you catching his breath.

“Mmgh, I don’t… I don’t think I can,” you keen helplessly into thin air.

“Yeah you can, princess,” Auston urges gently.

Auston sits up pinching your nipple and you hiss from the friction his hand is causing, mouth grazes along your throat, his mustache brushing it ever so slightly. You don’t need him, Fred’s cock driving into your throbbing pussy with every thrust. Fred will get you there, but Auston’s mouth on your neck, hand on your nipple sends you catapulting over the edge.

Fred’s hands dig into your hips and Auston’s arm catch your body as you tremble above his friend. Auston spews filth in your ear, Fred mumbling Danish praise below you, but you hear none of it. Vision whiting out, ears filled with a high pitch ring as Fred fucks you through your high. Wave after wave of ecstasy overwhelms your body, Fred gives you a few more sloppy thrusts before painting your walls white. The two men support you while Auston slowly lowers you onto Fred’s chest while you catch your breath.

Auston leans on his elbow beside you, brushing your hair drenched with sweat from your forehead. Both you and Fred are breathless, clammy with sweat as his dick softens inside of you.

“So you learn to keep other guy’s names out of your mouth,” Auston sneers .

“I was obviously joking,” you groan while Fred brings a hand up to lightly draw on your back.

“Wasn’t very funny,” Fred adds.

“One Andersen is more than enough,” you try to push off of Fred put he tightens his grip wrapping his arm around your back, pulling you back down to his chest.

You hear Auston’s feet on the wood floor, and he returns a minute later with some water and a damp wash cloth. Fred gingerly lifts your body, sliding his cock out as some cum spills out. Once off him, Auston hands you the glass and Fred the towel who gently wipes between your legs while you whimper from the contact.

Auston having found some boxers, pulls a t-shirt over your head and pulls you back into the bed with him. Lying on your side you curl into his arm, using his tattooed bicep as a pillow, your hand lying on his chest. Fred crawls in behind you, hand on your hip, warm breath on your neck.

You hear the click clacking of Felix’s nails on the wood floor as he gets closer. The bedroom door finally open, he lets himself in jumping onto the bed and curling up between your legs and Auston as you all quickly fall asleep.

[13uswntimagines]

Cliche (Tobin x Reader)

Request: Marriage Proposal 

Author’s Note: Special Thanks to @literaryhedgehog​

“I’m just saying, I opened my inbox. SOMEONE should have messaged me,” Tobin said, tugging on her hair frustratedly. You watched in amusement, loving the way the sunlight caught her hair, as you exited the movie theater. She was so focused on her tirade that she didn’t even look down as she stumbled over an uneven brick in the patio, just continued walking. “It’s been open for days and I reblogged several of those ‘send me a number and I’ll answer a question’ posts!”

“Babe, you run an anonymous fandom blog for a sci-fi television show that stopped running 15 years ago,” you said, rolling your eyes. 

“19 years, ago,” Tobin corrected, “and it has a pretty strong fanbase! That fanart I made got at least 100 likes.”

“You’re just lucky they didn’t match the brush strokes or something and figure out it was you. Like they did with your other fake Tumblr. They’re like crazy detectives,” You said side eyeing your girlfriend. 

“I mean, I was making fanart of us on that one, it was pretty obvious.” 

“I love it when you paint me, but It’s really creepy that you put it on the internet,” You huffed, crossing your arms tightly across your chest. 

“Oh come on, I only posted the ones I made from press photos. You have a problem with the high definition, you talk to Alyssa’s girlfriend. She’s the photographer.”

“As long as you keep your drawings just for us, yeah?” You asked. Tobin had quite the eye, and she often found her greatest inspiration when you were relaxed. When you let your guard down. That mess the that many of her sketches of you were most certainly not suitable for public consumption. 

“Anything I draw from life instead of from a screen I keep.” Tobin winked at you and linked her arm through yours. “So, what did you think of the movie? Or was it too romantic for you, you action-thriller loving fiend?”

You shrugged. “I think it was a little too cliche. Like who the fuck brings a diamond ring to the airport and uses the intercom to propose to the girl who just dumped him for a job across the country? And then she chooses him?” Some plots just made zero sense. At least your action movies didn’t force a girl to choose a person who was completely wrong for her. 

“Oh come on, everyone loves cliches. I’ve seen the number of ‘there were only one bed’ fics you’ve read.” 

“Those aren’t forced heteronormative love stories that don’t actually care about the characters” You scoffed. 

“I have seen your archive of our own bookmarks, do we want to continue this conversation?” Tobin said sweetly, looking at the windows of the shops you passed, though you could see her suppressing a smile. She loved winning, be it argument or soccer game. 

“My archive history doesn’t count,” you grumbled, pouting. It wasn’t your fault you had been kinda into Bellatrix dating Hermione, especially when they were both the same age and you got to see some Hogwarts hijinks (it helped you weren’t a Ron fan either). 

“Sure, sure. Tell you what. You don’t like my new favorite Rom-Com? Show me you can do better,” Tobin gestured to the outdoor coffee shop along the route ahead. “Real life coffee shop AU. Here’s your chance to defy heteronormative love stories and cliches in the most romantic way possible.” 

“Just please don’t spill your drink on me ok? You already have my number,” You asked, raising your eyebrows. You happened to like this shirt and didn’t want it to get ruined. 

“That would be a cliche, wouldn’t it? I thought you wanted to avoid those?” Tobin said, raising her eyebrows to mirror yours as she pulled out a chair from one the tables, “you’re chair, mon chere?” 

“You can be quite the Gentlelandy miss Heath if I do say so myself,” You smirked, settling into the chair she had pulled out for you, kissing her cheek. 

“Why thank you,” Tobin said, tossing her hair back playfully before settling into her own seat. She grabbed the menu and opened it up. “So, what are you thinking? Asking the barista to make heart-shaped foam? Splitting a pasta dish and reenacting lady and the tramp?”

“I was thinking a cafe mocha with no whip, and I’m pretty sure this place doesn’t sell spaghetti,” you said, setting your chin on your hands, leaning on the table. 

“I think I’ll get a nice chai latte. And a muffin on the side.”

“Lame. How do you live in Portland and hate coffee?” 

“I thought you were supposed to say nice things. We already know each other, this can’t be enemies to lovers AU!”

“You’re still stuck on that?” You asked, sighing when Tobin raised her eyebrow at you. “Fine. How nice of you to choose a predictably unusual drink, and healthy snack for our date. Better?” 

Tobin snorted. “Undeniably.” 

“Good,” you watched her as she placed your orders with the waitress, thinking over what to do. She managed to place the order with her usual level-headedness, but she had the slightest smirk as she turned back to you. It was both loving and a challenge. 

“Babe,” you said, “I literally have no idea how to make this a living coffee shop AU. I can’t remember the last time I read one of those where neither of the characters was a barista.”

“First I think we talk about random things while sipping our drinks, wondering how we get each other so well,” Tobin started, setting your drink on the table in front of you. 

“So basically do what we normally do, but with added pressure?” 

“Yep! Wanna start? You can tell me about that new fanfic writer you’ve been reading? The one who writes the really cute Sonnett fics?”

“Oneanddone has a couple… it’s like they actually know about Snippets from her and Lindsey’s relationship,” You said, your lips ticking up. 

“That sounds fun and not at all creepy,” Tobin said, leaning forward. 

“The best one was where Lindsey flew all the way to Sweden to propose. It was cute, but entirely too cliche,” You winked at Tobin, so she knew you were continuing the joke. “She just showed up and proposed after Emily won the championship and Emily kissed her hard hat and all. Like they would give the fans that much PDA in one shot,” 

“Hmmm, better check for cameras then,” Tobin said, ruffling in her pocket. You heard the sound of candy wrappers, as usual following a movie with her. 

“What?”

Tobin got down from her chair and kneeled in front of you. “Y/M/N, I have liked you since the first day I met you. You were smart, beautiful, and had a hell of a right hook. Watching you on that punching bag was one of the sexiest things I had ever seen, up until the day you agreed to go out on a date with me. And the date after that, and the date after that. I fell in love with a woman who’s not afraid to have an opinion, who will ask to pet every dog she sees, and who loves listening to me rant about any subject over the moon. Now I know you don’t like cliches, so I didn’t get you a diamond,” She pulled her hand out of her pocket and held the ring pop up for you to see, “I got you a cherry. I also have a grape and orange in my purse. Will you marry me?” 

“Yes,” You breathed out, forgoing the ring pop in favor of kissing your girlfriend- fiancé. 

“Such a cliche,” she murmured against your lips, threading her fingers through your hair. 

“Shut up and kiss me,”

[harringrooves]

Inspired by the #cherrylanechallenge day 1 prompt knife but this is not spooky at all so technically this is just a random little ficlet! AO3

The chair outside the principal's office is already taken when Billy gets there. He lets his eyes follow the trail from the clean, white sneakers up the impossibly long stretch of denim clad leg and even further upwards over the two toned striped polo shirt to the moles peeking out from just under the collar.

Steve Harrington glances up at him, then grimaces. Sighs.

"Jesus Christ," Harrington mutters.

"What are you doing here?" Billy grunts. There's no where left to sit, so he flung his jacket onto the linoleum and drops down onto it, back resting against the wall directly opposite Harrington.

Despite the distance of the entire width of the hallway between them, when Billy stretches his legs out the scuffed points of his boots almost touch the edge of Harrington's sneakers.

"Waiting for Mrs Reyes."

"Yeah, no shit."

That earns him a glare from Harrington. Billy's stomach turns a little at the disdain in Harrington's dark eyes, but it's the curiosity shining through that makes him squirm. Like an ant under a magnifying glass.

"Why're you here?"

Billy rolls his eyes, letting the familiar motion draw out the equally familiar sneer. "Same as you, dumbass."

Harrington huffs and turns away again as they both fall silent, glancing at the door every so often as the minutes tick by. It's not at all a comfortable silence. Harrington's not looking at Billy so Billy shouldn't be looking at him. But the walls are blank and the only other remotely interesting thing is the name plaque on the principal's door.

So Billy traces the letters dutifully, keeps going even when he gets nearer to the end of Reyes and stripes creep into the very edge of his vision. Even when he hears Harrington shift in the chair, moving his legs under him onto the seat then over the arms than back down to the floor. Even when Harrington asks, "You go crazy on some kid again?"

Billy goes round and round the shape of the capital R. "No. The fuck is that supposed to mean?"

Harrington laughs. It's loud and braying, and not what Billy would've guessed King Steve's laugh would sound like. He imagined something smooth and dark, something that would exude effortless charm with an undertone of something mysteriously rich and out of reach.

It just sounds like a teenage guy laughing, if a teenage guy was also part donkey. Billy would find it funny, if Harrington wasn't laughing at him. "What?" he repeats harshly.

Harrington eventually quiets. "What do I mean? The night at the Byer's, you went like, fully psycho. Your eyes were fucking dead. Did you get like that again, is that why you're here?"

Finally, Billy tears his eyes away from the plaque and meets Harrington's head on. "No," Billy says firmly. "I didn't fucking- no."

Harrington shrugs. "Whatever. Wouldn't surprise me if you did, sooner or later."

That stings. In California he was good at skating and surfing and babysitting and he was top of his class in English and History. Even after she left everyone knew him as Rosaline's boy (never Neil's), with the blonde hair and the yellow surfboard and the white smile that was a little too charming for his own good. Here in Hawkins, he was the Hargrove kid, the one who fucked and ditched, the one who fought and drank.

Maybe Billy's fine with everyone else thinking that about him, but not Harrington. Billy won't let himself think about why, but he wants Harrington see him. To look at him and think he's better than that night.

"I got kicked out of shop class," Billy bites out quietly. Harrington blinks at him.

"You got in a fight in shop-"

"I didn't get in a fight, for fuck's sake!"

Harrington holds his hands up in mock placation, bobbing his head mockingly. "Alright, alright." He stretches his leg out and lazily nudges at Billy's foot. "What'd you do then?"

"Made a knife," Billy mumbles, eyes back on the plaque.

Harrington laughs again. "You what?"

"I made a-"

"A knife, yeah." Harrington cocks his head like a little dog, some of his fringe flopping into his eye. "You know that just makes you sound even crazier, right?"

Billy just shrugs and lets his head fall back against the wall. "Wasn't for me, it was s'posed to be a gift. For- for Max." Harrington freezes.

"You were gonna make Max a knife as a gift?" It sounds like Harrington's struggling with every implication of that sentence. That Billy would gift Max something. That a knife was an appropriate gift. That Billy would care enough about anything to create something hand made.

"Yeah." He can't help but let a little bit of defensiveness slip into his tone. Billy kicks Harrington's foot away, probably a bit harder than necessary. "It was a replica of that one her character has in that stupid game her nerd friends play. Demons in Dungeons, or whatever." Dungeons and Dragons. Billy's not that stupid, but he's also not that shameless to admit to knowing what it's called. "It was a full scaled up one, even got the pattern on the handle half done."

"That's- cool," Harrington says hesitantly. "Didn't know you cared, Hargrove."

"Shitbird's birthday soon. Thought she'd like it." Billy glances over to Harrington, who's watching him with narrowed eyes. Billy coughs, shifting his shoulders a little to roll off the weight of the scrutiny. "Doesn't matter, that fucker Morrison confiscated it anyway."

Silence falls again, still just as awkward as last time but lacking a large amount of the hostility. Harrington's still watching him. The plaque's lost it's draw and Billy resorts to tracing the seams of his jeans with a fingernail.

"I'm failing English," Harrington offers abruptly. Billy's head snaps up, but for the first time Harrington's looking away as he speaks. "That's why I'm here. They're not sure if I'm gonna graduate."

"Sucks," Billy says roughly. Harrington nods slowly.

"Yeah."

Billy swallows, fingers clenching into fists atop his thighs. "I could, uh, give you my notes."

"Why would I need your notes?"

"'Cause you're failing English." Billy doesn't mean to say it like Harrington's an idiot, but those big brown eyes are wide and confused, like he's never thought about actually asking for help. "And 'cause I'm acing it."

Harrington's nose wrinkles in obvious disbelief, but he doesn't challenge it. He just sighs and lets his head loll to the side, propped up by his fist. "Yeah. Whatever. I'll do anything, at this point."

Billy nods silently. Harrington opens his mouth again, but he's interrupted by the click of the office door finally opening. Mrs Reyes pokes her head out.

"Steve," she greets him warmly. Her eyes slide over to Billy on the floor and her lips thin ever so slightly. "William."

"Hi," Billy says as obnoxiously peppy as he can manage.

"I'll see to you in a minute, after I've spoken with Steve." And then Harrington steps through into the office and the door swings shut once again.

Billy could get up and sit in the now vacant chair, but he stays right where he is until it's his turn to be called in. Harrington looks at him as he passes him in the doorway, but it's obvious that he's a million miles away, frowning at Billy but his mind no doubt occupied by something else.

Mrs Reyes doesn't ask what happened, just gives him a Friday detention and a lecture on how badly his behaviour is going to affect his record and how that's such a shame given his academic achievements. Billy lets it wash over him, not bothering to really pay attention. He's heard it all before.

When school lets out and Billy makes his way out the Camaro, he almost trips over his feet at the sight of Steve Harrington leaning against his car, twirling a knife in his long fingers.

"Here," Harrington says as soon as Billy gets close enough, holding the knife out to him blade first. Billy takes it gingerly and slips it into his jacket pocket.

"How'd you get it back?"

Harrington's chest puffs up in some god awful display of smugness as he smirks at Billy. "Morrison leaves his office unlocked during lunch. Everyone knows, it's like the number one place to make out. I was in an out, the couple in there didn't even notice me."

"That's disgusting. But, thanks, I guess-"

"Don't." Harrington holds up a hand, wincing a little. "I didn't do it for you, I think Max will really like the gift so if anything, I did it for her. And consider this payment for the notes."

"Payment?" Billy's brow furrows. "I didn't ask you to pay me." But now that Harrington's mentioned it, he definitely should have. Harrington's rich, everyone knows that. Billy could've got an easy $100 or some of the good weed Tommy's always talking about Harrington having.

"And now you don't have to," Harrington says smugly. "I give you the knife, you give me the notes. I don't want you asking me a month down the track to give you like $80 or a bag of weed or whatever in return. So there's the knife, aaaaand we're even."

Billy glowers as Harrington grins smarmily at him. "Fine. We're even. Now fuck off, some of us got places to be."

Harrington dutifully pushes off the Camaro, walking backwards towards his own car a few rows over. "Cool. Give me the notes whenever this week."

Billy doesn't say bye, just gets in his car and drives off, studiously not watching the fading image of Steve Harrington in his rear view mirror.

...

Max loves the knife. She doesn't hug him, but she nudges his shoulder with hers and declares that she's going to tie it to her belt and carry it with her at all times from now on. Neil goes purple trying to hold back his commentary on just how ladylike and appropriate for a young woman that is. Billy gets a cuff to the back of the head later, but it's worth it.

Harrington does get to graduate. He leans over from his seat beside Billy's (alphabetical order) during the opening speech of the graduation ceremony and whispers closer than necessary into Billy's ear, "Thanks, man." He doesn't so much as glance at Billy for the rest of the three hour ceremony, or during the party later that night that goes until daybreak the next morning, but it's worth it.

Billy bides his time. He can handle one more summer if it means getting enough cash to be independent when he leaves for college in a few months. Neil sucks as much as always, and driving Max everywhere cuts into the hours he's able to put in at the pool, but when she drags him to the new mall after his shift and right into the blissfully cool ice cream shop, Steve Harrington's eyes catch tellingly on the bare skin between the bottom of Billy's crop top and his tiny, red shorts and it's so, so fucking worth it.

[mi6-cafe]

WEEK 3 DRABBLES ARE HERE!

Now, let’s refresh your memory about the prompt

We have asked our writers to write between 100 and 150 words of an acrostic drabble for NO TIME. (We wanted each paragraph to start with the given letters.)

THEY DID SUCH AN AWESOME JOB!

Now, how to vote?

Yup, that’s pretty much the method, although the writing of the individual feedback full of love is very much optional. (And yes, we’re reusing this meme from last week.)

Read the drabbles below the line (or on wordpress) and GO VOTE when you’re done!

#1

Title: Little Prick Author: sorion Warnings: none Summary: Just some bondy banter.

Now, that was just rude, Q thought, sipping his tea with his eyes on the computer screen and giving a weak attempt at not looking amused.

Other than the potted plant in the corner, nobody was convinced of said attempt, and neither was Bond at the other end of the satellite connection, and he couldn't even see Q.

The hand gesture Bond waved at the hidden camera was still rude, though less original.

"I can hear you laugh into your tea; don't think I can't," Bond's crystal-clear voice echoed through Q-Branch.

"Mmm," Q hummed in agreement. "I have to get my kicks from somewhere, Bond, and you're usually a reliable source."

Ever the gentleman, Bond conceded with grace. "Alright, you win," he said. "Provided, of course, that you stop laughing for long enough to get me out of here, so I can come home."

#2

Title: White Knight Author: sunaddicted Warnings: none Summary: bratty agents really do get on Bill’s nerves

"No."

"Oh, come on!"

Tanner arched an eyebrow at the raised tone of voice 009 was directing at him: he definitely didn't appreciate being talked to in such manner by a bratty agent - how the man was Q's favorite (besides Bond, of course), Bill would never know.

 "I'm not messing around with the line-up just because you want to go to Malaysia." 

M cleared his throat from the entrance of Tanner's office, looking coldly at 009. "Of course you're not. You should go get kitted for your own mission, 009: I believe R is waiting for you in Q-Branch."

Exhaling loudly, 009 pursed his lips and left with a stiff and parting nod - it was absolutely satisfying to watch. "You didn't have to come and save me," Bill pointed out, smiling up at the other  even as M bent down to kiss him. "Thank you, though."

#3

Title: Another Door Opens Author: soufflegirl91 Warnings: None Summary: Eve contemplates a door, and what led her to it

Now or never.

One way or another, things were about to change forever. In a way, everything from the moment she had shot James Bond off that bridge in Turkey had been leading to this.

The door loomed ahead, waiting for her to take the next step. There had been a time when she thought that with that one shot, she had ruined things forever. That any opportunity she had to prove herself in the field, any chance of a career, had crashed into the water with Bond’s body.

Instead, it had merely opened another door for her. Given her a chance to learn things she never would have in the field. The people, the politics. All the little games the field agents never saw.

“M,” her secretary greeted.

Eve nodded back at her, and walked through the door to her new office.

#4

Title: Inside Information Author: starrboned / MrKsan Warnings: content warning: alcohol Summary: Bond is back again and bets are placed.

“No,” Q said over his glass of gin, finishing it off in one swig. “Not doing this again.”

“Or you could stop being such a wet blanket and place your bet already,” Moneypenny said, poking him in the ribs. He swatted at her, scooting closer to Tanner. “We all know Bond will ‘retire’ soon enough.”

“That’s all everyone’s talking about,” Q huffed, staring at his empty glass. “He’s back, he’s off again - it’s a never-ending cycle.” Almost wish he'd stay gone, he didn't say.

“It is,” Tanner sighs, nudging his half-full pint towards Q. “But even Mallory wagered a full six months."

“Mallory did?” Q almost choked on Tanner’s beer. “That’s - that’s unusual of him.”

“Eh, said something about how ‘Bond has something to prove' this time around.“ Tanner grinned. Q felt his cheeks warm under his knowing gaze. "Maybe he has some inside information, huh?"

#5

Title: No Time Like The Present Author: storm_of_sharp_things Warnings: none Summary: Felix had been wondering if it was ever going to happen

“Not that you need to answer, but did you ever sleep with him?” Felix looked up from his glass as MI6’s Chief of Staff dropped into the chair next to him at the bar and quirked an eyebrow. It wasn’t how Felix would’ve started this conversation, but...

“Once,” he admitted. He tossed back the rest of his drink. “You?”

Tanner nodded, his gaze distant. “Once,” he said with a faint smile. “Seemed a good idea at the time.”

“I don’t regret it,” Felix said. Then he shrugged and smirked. “I think we’d have shot each other if we’d really tried to make it work. But I do miss him.”

“Me too.” Tanner paused long enough that Felix wondered if he’d follow through. “Listen, I’ve got some good bourbon back at mine. Want a drink where it’s quieter?”

“Easy answer,” Felix grinned. “Hell yes, thought you’d never ask, let’s go.”

#6

Title: Entanglement Author: Nana-chan Warnings: Summary: In which 007 and Q trade places...

“Now take your clothes off slowly,” said Bond softly. “Goddammit, Q, I said slowly.”

“Oh, do piss off, Bond,” Q hissed, dropping his shirt to the floor while Bond continued to watch him through the CCTV live feed. “Now, help me with the leathers.”

“That actually sounds very sexy, coming from you,” Bond said conversationally, his eyes drifting all over Q’s bare midriff before focusing on the contraption strapped to him.

“I suppose it does, yeah,” replied Q archly. “Never mind my predicament.”

“Mm-hmm,” said Bond, unfazed. “Not enough time. The straps will have to stay for now. I’ll start, then.”

Entanglements such as this were usually Bond’s lot, not his, but what was he to do when someone had attached an IED to his person? At least he’d dispatched his would-be kidnapper. He sighed, relieved, as Bond typed in the code he’d devised to remotely disable the ticking bomb.

#7

Title: Time Well Spent Author: IrishWitch58 / captain-magicalkitty Warnings: None Summary: A conversation over coms.

“Nine bloody days and the target hasn't moved at all.” Q could almost see the exasperated expression. Bond hated the need for surveillance and made his displeasure known.

“Once he does, I'm sure the resulting excitement will more than make up for your current boredom,” Q soothed. He managed to hide his smile from the rest of the branch late shift.

There was a disgusted snort from the coms. “You'll have to do better than that to make this up to me.” The tone was suggestive but only in the general Bond default setting. Q wasn't concerned about anyone overhearing.

“If you're still angling after an exploding pen, dream on.”

“Miser,” Bond accused, fond tone at odds with the statement.

Eventually the target would move and Bond would get the job done. Until then, they enjoyed time spent together, even far apart.

#8

Title: N O T I M E Author: hexiva Warnings: Character death Summary: Bond confronts Blofeld.

No time to think as James rounds the corner, gun in hand, and comes face to face with Blofeld, with Franz. 

Only hatred in Franz’s eyes, he reaches for his gun.

Trigger burning against James’ finger, all he has to do is pull it, end this, end this, but - 

Ivy leaves underfoot, the sky blue above them, and they’re bickering but they’re just children still, not the killers they will become, and Franz laughs as James trips, and he reaches down to offer him a hand - 

Many years ago, they were brothers. Franz knew him before he was 007. He’s the last man left who did. Everyone else is gone, and James is tired of being alone and tired of being a killer.

Every muscle in his body aches with weariness as he lets his gun drop. And he looks Franz in the eyes as Franz pulls the trigger.

#9

Title: A Change of The Story Author: scarytheory Warnings: (a little bit of) sci-fi Summary: She has seen the future. What she’ll do with it is up to her.

No time to waste when she’s got a glimpse of the future. She had seen Bond devastated by loss and full of rage. She had seen Q who was absorbed in his job, bitter and sad. And herself – composed and nice and so, so lonely. Or was it possible to change it? She decided to go to that beach instead of Bond. But before she left, she whispered to him: “You’ve got a secret admirer in the Q branch.” Will it be enough? And the girl on the beach… will she manage to save her? “Tracy!” she screamed as she was trying to get her out of the water.

“I don’t know you.” Not yet.

“Moneypenny, Eve Moneypenny.”

Eve decided that this time she wasn't going to let them be burned by the inevitability. This time, Tracy would live.

#10

Title: Let the Record Show Author: anyawen Warnings: None Summary: They've read the same reports, but have arrived at differing conclusions.

"No, I don't think so," Q disagrees with forced lightness. "Not this time."

"Oh, honey," Eve sighs, not fooled in the least. She reaches across the table to squeeze his hand. "Every time. He always comes back."

"There's no reason for him to come back, not anymore," Q insists. "M is dead, and he's finished the last mission she ever gave him. He can retire now. Live a peaceful life with a beautiful woman. And a beautiful car."

"If you think he'll be happy with a peaceful life, you don't understand him as well as you think," Eve laughs.

"Maybe he doesn't want peaceful," Q allows, "but we've read his file. He doesn't want m— this either, or he wouldn't keep trying to leave."

"Eventually, he will come home. And when he does," Eve says, sitting back and angling to speak to someone over Q's shoulder, "you should tell him."

#11

Title: TO DIE Author: Merc / moon_of_mercury Warnings: This one is depressing. Sorry! Summary: The End.

Never again...

Observing from behind his screen, Q takes in the smoking, crumbling scene of destruction. Police cars with flashing lights and blaring sirens swarm the streets. A familiar silhouette blends in with the by-passers, slipping out of his view around the corner.

This is the last time James Bond holsters his gun, dusts off his suit, and heads for the airport to catch a flight Moneypenny arranged for him.

“It’s done,” Q says into the expectant stillness of the room. It hurts a little, even though he’s relieved. The showdown could have gone so much worse, but this is just as final.

Memories of this mission will haunt him for different reasons than usual. Their blazing victory is a bittersweet consolation.

Everything ends here; even those things that never began.

#12

Title: Mission Goal: Ideas Author: Venstar /1amvengeance Warnings: none Summary: well someone had to think of something.

“Now you're just showing off.” James’s voice drawled against Q’s ear.

“Oh, I'm showing off. Did you have any other ideas? No. Spies should have faster reflexes than asking me to 'Quick hide us!' My time and equipment are very expensive.” Q hissed quietly. They were still on a mission after all.

“That kiss was a far better idea than anything I had in mind. I'm happy to pay your asking price. Are you okay Q, your face has gone all red.”

“I will murder you in your sleep. I will end you. I will scatter your body parts to the farthest corners of the globe as a warning to those that think about blaming me for coming up with all the ideas!”

“Maybe instead of murder, you should think about our target. He’s escaping.”

“Escaping my arse. Someone is going to pay for your lack of ideas.”

#13

Title: Losing and Having Author: solarmorrigan Warnings: None. Summary: Bond reflects and knows he can't have it any other way.

Never in all his life had Bond felt quite this level of terror.

Or – well, no. That wasn’t quite true.

There had been one other time.

In the murky water, watching everything he’d allowed himself to love and depend on slip away into oblivion. The fear had clutched him then, shaken him and wrecked him.

Maybe he should have listened to his own damn self when he’d designated the heart as nothing but a target.

Even so, even knowing this, Bond clutched Q’s hand, eyes locked on his bruised and battered quartermaster who had only just returned to him, and knew it was worth it. The fear of loss was nothing against the euphoria of having.

#14

Title: Dreisamkeit (Or: Bliss comes in threes) Author: Misha / artsytarts / jelly-mish Warnings: Sickly sweet fluff, watch out for cavities Summary: Della, Felix and James are toying with the idea of having a lazy day in.

Nestled between the warm bodies of her boys, Della felt content.

“Occasionally, I’d like to just... stay here. All day.”, she said, letting her fingers brush through their hair in lazy strokes. James tightened his grip around her and made an approving noise.

Then the beeping started. Felix moved, banging his fist on the alarm clock. “Gosh darn it,” he growled. Della pouted in response, until a thought struck her. What if they took a sick day? Food poisoning? Good enough story. She suggested it out loud.

“If you take the blame,” James mumbled sleepily.

“Me? If anyone, it’d be Felix,” Della grinned at her husband's dirty look and carried on: “Remember when you forgot to add water to the pasta? The fumes were noxious.”

Eventually, reluctantly, they broke up their haven of safety and rolled out of bed. Della sighed. There never seemed to be enough time.

#15

Title: Augment Author: oldestcharm Warnings: n/a Summary: Every week Q argues his case and wins. "No," M says, squinting and displeased. "Absolutely not."

"One million," Q attempts with a half-hearted smile, but he knows well enough that it wouldn't work in any other situation. He's not even trying that hard at this point, because he knows he'll win this argument every single time. "It's not that much. I should probably ask ten times that with the amount of shit Bond breaks. Remember last week? I deserve a better budget."

"Then stop supplying him with expensive equipment," M suggests, unsympathetic at best.

"I'll have you know he'll get his hands on it whether I supply it or not," Q says crossly.

"Maybe you aren't doing a good enough job at security."

"Exactly, I need a better budget!" Q insists, eyeing M with a bit of a manic expression as he sets down the tablet in front of him. "Now sign it or deal with the consequences."

Go Vote!

[orangeoctopi7]

They’re Good Dogs, Stan

@forduary Week 2 is Fluff and Angsty, but this is ALL FLUFF! I’ve seen tons and tons of Gravity Falls AUs with Werewolf!Stan, but none with Ford as a werewolf. So I wanted to write one. I could’ve gone for Paranoid, pre-portal incident Ford and all the good angst that’d come with that, but I’m already a week behind, so pure fluff it is! * * *

Mid-September, 2013. Another summer has come and gone, the kids are back home in Piedmont, and the elder Pines twins are preparing for their next voyage. After a busy day of gathering supplies, Stan is ready to take the afternoon off. But Ford wouldn’t be Ford if he didn’t jump at every opportunity to study something strange. He’d gone off on his own, mentioning something about checking on a werewolf theory for Soos. Stan, after confirming that it was still a couple of days until the full moon, decided to stay home and catch a nap on the porch, enjoying the first cool evening in months.

It was now an hour later, and while the sun still hadn’t set, Stan was starting to get a little worried. If the supposed werewolf really wasn’t any trouble, surely his brother would’ve been back by now. Ford may have the tendency to get caught up in his work, but he wasn’t exactly the type to let a conversation or interview drag on and on.

In an effort to distract himself from worrying, Stan decided to help Soos wrap up the last tour of the day. He’d just seen the last bus off when he noticed a large, hump-backed animal moving through the forest. 

"What is that, a moose?" He squinted through the trees, trying to get a better look at it to see if it was something dangerous. It definitely went on four legs, so not a Manotaur. The only other thing that big around here that went on four legs was that Bear-bear friend of Dipper's, and he was a dark brown color. Whatever this was, its fur glinted silvery grey in the late afternoon sun.

Whatever it was, it was moving fast, and making its way towards the clearing that housed the Mystery Shack. In just a few seconds, Stan thought he could make out what it was, but his cataracts had to be playing tricks on him.

It wasn’t a moose. It was a wolf the size of a moose.

The closer it got, the more weird details he noticed about it. He’d never heard of a wolf with curly fur, and was it wagging its tail?

Where the heck was Ford? He’d love to see this. This was probably some giant’s pet woofdle (Half wolf half poodle).

Wait...

Stan looked up at the almost full moon hanging just above the trees as the sun began to set.

He looked back at the running wolf just in time to see it burst out of the trees and tackle him to the ground, knocking the wind out of him. 

The wolf licked his face enthusiastically as he tried to catch his breath again.

“Ford, you didn’t!”

The fact that the wolf looked guilty was all the answer he needed.

* * *

When Soos shared his theory that the mailman was a werewolf with Ford, the old researcher had jumped at the opportunity. Here was a man who, from the looks of it, would have been a child when Ford first came to Gravity Falls. 

This meant one of two things: One, there had been child werewolves in Gravity Falls when he first started his research here, and he somehow completely missed it; or Two, this man had been turned to a werewolf in the last 30 years, which meant there had been an increase in werewolf activity while Ford was on the other side of the portal. Either way, Ford was very excited to ask him some questions.

He’d dashed off from the Mystery Shack, barely stopping to let Stanley know where he was going and confirming that the full moon wasn’t for a few more days. 

Once he arrived at the mail-man’s house, Ford knocked enthusiastically. The seconds slowly ticked by as he waited, but no answer came. After counting to 100, Ford knocked again, a little more insistently. He heard something moving behind the door. He started pounding on the door, and didn’t let up.

Finally, he heard several bolts being undone. 

“Hey, you need to leave in the next…” The stout red-haired man flipped open his phone and checked an app, “Two minutes.”

“Oh.” Ford answered with mild surprise. “Well, I’ll cut straight to the chase then! I wanted to know if there was any truth to the rumors that you might be a werewolf!”

The man gave Ford a confused look before answering. “Stick around for another minute and a half and you’ll find out.”

“Really!? But it won’t be a full moon for another three days! And sunset won’t be for another hour and a half!”

“No, but the moon’s rising in about a minute. Seriously, you need to leave.”

Ford’s eyes widened to the size of saucers. “Would you be willing to let me observe your transformation? It would be an unprecedented scientific opportunity!”

“Nope, too dangerous.”

With that, the man slammed the door in Ford’s face. He heard several bolts and locks being re-done. For a brief moment, Ford was reminded of a less pleasant time in his own life, when he himself had locked himself in his own house like that, both for his own protection and for the protection of the world outside.

The old researcher shook the thought out of his head. This was nothing like that.

Honestly, he just wanted to observe. It wasn’t like he was looking for trouble. He had survived for years in the multiverse, he could just peek through the window of a werewolf!

Luckily there were plenty of windows on the second floor that had the blinds and curtains wide open, presumably to let in plenty of sunlight. Or perhaps to let in plenty of moonlight? That was one of many theories he’d have to ask the man about once the moon had set again. Whatever the case, these windows would be perfect points of observation.

Ford climbed a nearby tree to get a better look into the werewolf’s home. He couldn’t see the transformation from here, but he could see what appeared to be the entire hind leg of an elk hanging by a couple of ropes in one room. Interesting… obviously this man prepared food for his wolf form, presumably to prevent any chance of the werewolf hunting local townsfolk or livestock, but why hang it in such a position? It wasn’t so high that the werewolf couldn’t reach it, but it would obviously take more work.

Well, he wasn’t going to see the transformation for himself from this window. The old researcher readied himself to jump to the tiny balcony in front of the next nearest window. Hopefully he’d find what he was looking for there. 

The old man took a leap-- misjudged the springiness of the branch beneath his feet-- and crashed through the window.

Ford picked himself up off the floor with a groan. That window should not have broken so easily. Surely, the home of a werewolf should be better fortified! He would have to block the window with something if he didn’t want a werewolf loose on the town. He was looking for a bookshelf or cabinet he could push in front of the opening, when he heard a low snuffling sound, followed by an angry growl.

A reddish-brown wolf, twice the size of any Ford had ever seen, with an abnormally large cranium, was standing at the top of the stairs, glaring daggers at him. Ford was torn between reaching for his blaster to protect himself, or reaching for the new journal Mabel had made for him to start writing down observations.

Drat, I missed the transformation. He thought to himself. So it must be a rapid process. I wonder if that makes it more or less painful?

The wolf growled again, hackles raised, and Ford finally pulled out his blaster, being sure to set it to stun. After all, it wasn’t the wolf’s fault he’d stumbled into the wolf’s territory.

Unfortunately, pulling a gun, even a sci-fi looking one, was the wrong move. The wolf lunged at him before he could pull the trigger, fangs sinking into his forearm. Ford yelled with pain, punching and kicking the beast to get it to let go.

The pain of the bite was soon replaced with a strange twitching, rippling, itching sensation, that quickly radiated outward from the wound. He looked down and noticed the hair on his arm growing thicker.

Well, it looks like I’ll get to observe the transformation after all! He thought as he fell to his knees.

* * *

Stan was absolutely flabbergasted by the moose-sized wolf currently pawing at his fridge. It barely fit in the room, and he was pretty sure that wagging tail was going to knock the table over.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it, you’re hungry.” Stan muscled his way past the mountain of fur and pulled out an entire container of bologna that hadn’t even been opened yet. “Here.” he peeled the seal off the package and tossed a slice like a little frisbee. Wolf!Ford snapped it up in one bite. He looked expectantly at Stan and gave a pathetic little whine, hoping for another.

“Uh, I dunno if you should even be eatin’ this stuff when you’re like that.” Stan protested. “Pretty sure wolves aren’t supposed to eat people food.”

The wolf gave a little huff, but nodded in agreement. And wasn’t that wild, seeing a curly-haired wolf just make a human gesture like that?

The wolf headed back to the back porch door. He pawed the doorknob, like it was instinctual, but gave a little annoyed grunt when he apparently remembered he didn’t have thumbs. Next he tried to grasp the doorknob between his jaws.

“Oh no you don’t!” Stan shouted. “I don’t want teeth-marks all over my doorknobs! Or wolf drool, for that matter!”

Wolf!Ford shot him another guilty look and whined plaintively. Stan sighed and opened the door for him.

“I just let you in, what the heck do you want out again for?”

The wolf made a series of grunts and groans that were probably supposed to mean something, but Stan didn’t get any of what he was trying to say.

“Whatever, just don’t go too far.”

* * *

The wolf actually rolled its eyes. Stan didn’t even think wolves could do that. Of course, this was a werewolf, so maybe it could do things a normal wolf couldn’t. It dashed away into the forest.

“Hey! I said don’t go too far!” Stan shouted after him. The wolf was already out of sight. The old con man groaned. “Alright, fine, just be careful!” Stan yelled even louder, hoping his transformed brother could still hear him. 

Ford was hungrier than he’d been since coming back to his home dimension, and while the slice of bologna had been tasty, it had been far from filling. Besides, Stan was right. Wolves probably shouldn’t eat processed meats. He was going to have to go hunting!

He took in a deep breath, enjoying all the diverse smells that had opened up to him with his transformation, trying to differentiate the smell of wild game from the smell of Farmer Sprott’s farm animals. 

It’s probably a good thing Mabel took Waddles home with her before this happened. Ford thought. 

He was able to pick out the scent of what he thought might be a mule deer. He snuck through the forest, finding that he could be surprisingly quiet for something so large. He got close enough to the mule deer that he could see the tiny twitching movements of its nose sniffing the air when it finally noticed him. When it finally caught his scent, it bounded away in an instant, and Ford gave chase.

As exhilarating as the case felt, there was also a sense of wrongness to it. He knew instinctively that he shouldn’t, couldn’t hunt on his own, and he found himself wishing desperately that Stanley was with him, even if he knew on some level that his brother wouldn’t want to hunt a deer and probably wouldn’t be much help even if he did.

The wind changed direction and a new scent, strange yet familiar, caught his attention. It was the synthetic, sterile smell of a human mixed with the pungent, musky smell of a wolf, not unlike his own. And he’d smelled it earlier, right after his transformation.

It was the mailman!

Another werewolf, stockier and more reddish brown than silver gray, was running through the forest, scaring the mule deer back in Ford’s direction with a loud howl. Now he wasn’t alone. Now the hunt felt right.

The deer zig-zagged between the two of them before the mailman finally came close enough to latch his jaws into its hind flank. It tried to kick the wolf off, but it had slowed enough that Ford was able to catch up himself, and then instinct completely took over. Before he knew it, the deer was dead on the ground, and the two werewolves were covered in blood, happily sharing the meal they’d taken down together. The one doe wasn’t enough to feed two enormous werewolves, but it definitely put more of a dent in Ford’s hunger than the slice of bologna had.

As they finished off the last of the deer carcase, the other wolf looked at Ford, and although no words were exchanged, a form of communication passed between them.

“You’re the idiot researcher who broke into my house.” The mailman didn’t seem angry, just bemused more than anything.

“It was an accident.” Ford’s tail and ears drooped.

“I told you to leave.” The mailman’s ears flattened and he gave a small annoyed growl. “But it is nice to go hunting with someone. I usually just hang up an elk flank for my own enrichment, so the local farmers and hunters don’t throw a tizzy, but this was much more fun!”

“I agree!” Ford wagged his tail, and his ears perked up again. “I’m still hungry, let’s find another deer!”

The two wolves continued to hunt together for another hour or so, taking down one more deer and finding a large nest of ground squirrels that finally filled them up. Eventually, dusk passed into full night, and the time that deer were the most active had passed.

“Well, we’d better do our best to cover our tracks and clean up after ourselves.” The mailman stretched and began burying the remains of the ground squirrels. “The local farmers and hunters will throw a tizzy fit if they realize there are a couple of wolves in town.”

“Is that why you usually lock yourself in your house?” Ford asked.

The other wolf nodded, and Ford was reminded that this was a man most of the time. “I’ve been chased by an angry mob a couple of times. Even shot at with silver bullets.”

“Really? Is there any truth to those old legends?”

“Well any bullet will kill you if it gets you in the heart or the brain.” the mailman replied with a growl. “Silver bullets will force you to transform back to normal, so as long as it’s not a serious injury, you’ll just heal while your body rearranges itself. I got shot in the hind leg, so the bullet just fell out as I transformed.”

“Faciniating! What is it about silver that causes the change? Is it just contact with silver in general, or does it have to be a bullet?”

Ford hadn’t realized that wolves could give blank stares like that. “No clue. I’m not rich enough to have access to pure silver.”

“Oh, it’s actually quite easy to precipitate out of Silver Nitrate, which you can purchase through most industrial chemical catalogs!”

* * *

It was getting late, and Stan was getting tired, but he was not going to bed until he knew Ford was safe. His brother had run off almost an hour and a half ago, and Stan had seen enough monster movies to worry what would happen to his brother if he ran into anyone else.

Unfortunately, following the wolf through the woods in the dark seemed more likely to get Stan into trouble than to get Ford out of it, so he decided to just keep vigil on the porch for now. He’d heard a few howls in the night, but nothing that sounded like a wolf in danger. He was just going to have to trust that his brother could take care of himself.

It was nearly midnight when Ford finally trotted out of the forest and into the light of the Mystery Shack’s back porch, dragging a mostly picked-clean deer carcase behind him.

“What the heck did you bring that back with you for!?” Stan exclaimed in disgust, looking at the trail of sineu, bones, and skin that now led up to the porch.

Ford looked expectantly between Stan and the carcase, nudging a bit of ribs that still had some meat on them closer to his brother.

“What are you thinkin’!? I’m not eatin’ that!”

The wolf actually did a double-take, as if he was just now remembering that his brother was a human who ate cooked meat that had already been butchered and prepared and sold in a supermarket, not the raw, still bloody remains of a deer that had been alive just three hours ago.

“I hope you realize, I’m not letting you in the house while you’re filthy like that.” Stan gestured to the dark brown dried blood that was flaking off Ford’s curly gray fur. 

The wolf looked thoroughly shamed, and began licking the blood from his paws and muzzle, but there was a lot he couldn’t reach on his own. Stan rolled his eyes and grabbed the hose. It was way too late for this.

Ford gave a surprised yelp when Stan turned the hose on him, and he looked absolutely pathetic as he sat there and took it, the water making him look much skinnier and bedraggled. He whined pitifully as Stan placed his thumb over the end to increase the water pressure, and did his best to power-spray the remaining blood and dirt out of his brother’s fur. When he was finally satisfied that no deer guts would be tracked inside, he nodded with approval and turned the hose of.

The wolf’s tail hung low as he climbed up to the porch.

“Serves you right! You had me worried sick!” Stan reprimanded him. “And I should’ve been in bed two hours ago!”

The wolf gave another sad whine and tried to lick Stan’s face. He pushed his brother off, but also gave him an affectionate scritch behind his ear.

“Yeah yeah, it’s hard to stay mad at you when you’re a big fluffy dog.” He opened the door and let Ford back inside.

As soon as Stan closed the door behind him, Ford gave a tremendous shake, sending water flying everywhere, and absolutely soaking everything in the entryway, including Stan. 

“Oh, I see how it is! You were just faking bein’ pathetic to take your revenge, huh?” 

Ford wagged his tail and huffed, a mischievous glint in his eyes. 

Stan stomped up the stairs to take a shower, while Ford picked his way towards the laundry room. The wolf pulled a towel onto the floor and rolled around on it to finish drying himself off. He would help clean up the entryway, but he didn’t have any opposable thumbs, so there wasn’t much he could do.

* * *

Stan went to bed immediately after getting out of the shower. It had been an exhausting day. He’d deal with Ford’s stupid werewolf escapades in the morning. Hopefully, his brother would be back to normal by then.

He’d just been about to drift off to sleep when he felt something huge and hairy flop down on the mattress next to him. Apparently, werewolf!Ford didn’t want to sleep alone, and honestly, Stan was too tired to try and shove him off, so he just snuggled into the great mound of fur and drifted off to sleep.

A few hours later, a loud cracking sound, like someone popping all their joints at once, woke Stan with a start. It was still dark out, although the first few rays of light were appearing on the horizon. Stan realized he was suddenly colder too, as though someone had pulled a blanket off him. He suddenly realized that the giant furry mass that had been sleeping next to him all night had been replaced by plain old human skin and bones.

“Ford?” Stan asked, squinting in the twilight to try and see if his brother had indeed returned to normal.

“Ugh… ow… It’s like having all your joints dislocated and then relocated at once… Ah, so I’m fully capable of human speech again!” The old researcher stretched and felt himself over. “Oh dear… I seem to have left my clothes back where I first transformed!” He pulled Stan’s blanket over himself.

“S’not like I can see you anyway.” Stan yanked his blanket back. It was cold this morning, especially now that the living space heater werewolf form was gone! “Go back to your own room and grab your PJ’s.”

The bed creaked as Ford climbed out of it, and Stan saw the blurry silhouette of his brother pause in the doorway.

“Stanley, I… I’m sorry.”

“Didja get hurt?” Stan asked sleepily.

“No. In fact, it was an incredible experience!”

“Then I ain’t even mad. Just lemme go back to sleep, ok?”

“It’s just… I know I worried you. And I’m sorry for that.”

“Great. Apology accepted. Go to bed.”

* * *

After the craziness of last night, Stan didn’t wake until almost 10:30 the next morning. He stumbled into breakfast the next morning to find the kitchen table absolutely covered in Ford’s notes, and his brother in the middle of recounting his experience to Soos.

“... And I’m not sure if it was some sort of telepathy that all werewolves share, or if my inner human consciousness was just translating the wolves body language and pheromone communication, but we were able to communicate perfectly, even about complex concepts like chemistry and legends and angry mobs!”

“Oh, hey Stan!” Soos greeted him cheerfully. “Turns out I was totally right about that mailman bein’ a werewolf!”

“Yeah, I’m aware.” Stan rolled his eyes and grabbed a packet of oatmeal.

“I promise, I only went there to observe!” Ford assured him, “I had no intention of turning into a werewolf myself. But now that it’s happened, I’ll actually be able to observe and study werewolves first-hand! Which is perfect, because there’s still so much we don’t know! Obviously, it doesn’t have to be a completely full moon to trigger the transformation, so how full does it have to be? How is the transformation transmitted from one person to the next?”

“How are you gonna take notes while you’re a wolf?” Stan pointed out.

Ford opened his mouth to answer, but quickly realized he didn’t have one.

“Oh, dude we should get you one of those sound boards like that one dog on the internet has!” Soos suggested. He pulled out his phone and showed them a video illustrating his point.

“Hmm, I’m sure I could ask Fiddleford to rig up something like this, but a full keyboard!” Ford nodded as he watched the video. “I’m still myself as the wolf, so I should be able to spell out what I want to say. We could even connect it to a computer, so I can type!

“If you’re still yourself, then why the heck did you try and bring me back a deer last night?” Stan asked grumpily.

“Ah…” Ford blushed. “Well, I still retain my typical level of intelligence, it just seems there’s quite a lot of wolf instinct that gets superimposed on top of that.”

“Great.” Stan pinched the bridge of his nose. “So, I get that you’re excited to learn more about how werewolves work and all that, but what about after that? Are you just gonna stay a werewolf forever, or is there a cure?”

“Well, last night, the mailman mentioned that getting shot with a silver bullet in the leg will change you back without doing any lasting harm.”

“Yeah, I’m not shooting you every time your transformation is inconvenient.”

“But he wasn’t sure if just any contact with pure silver would do the trick. That’s just one of many things I’ll have to research in the future!”

Stan swallowed a mouthful of oatmeal. “We’d better call the kids. I can’t wait to see the look on Mabel’s face when she finds out you transform into a giant silver poodle under the full moon!”

[fascination-street-writing]

She Rings Like a Bell Through the Night | Yan!Bruno Bucciarati x Reader

You remind him of a cat - and he has always had a pension for strays.

100 Follower Giveaway 2nd Place Piece

Content Warnings: Not S/F/W Content, Yandere Behaviors, Stalking, Non-Con Elements (Non-Consensual Touching & Dubious Consent), & Homelessness 

You are glad for the distortion of the puddle’s reflection – if instead you had a mirror, you might simply wither in the alley where you stand. It is better this way. Truthfully, you would rather not know how positively filthy you have become since taking to the streets. The space between Il Cestino del Pane and Via dei Libri – a bakery and a bookstore – is your domain. You do not call the covered niche betwixt two dumpsters your home; it is simply the place you happen to come back to every night.

At the lip of the alley, she stands. An entity, you suppose, though she does not speak to you. And yet, you are utterly convinced that she is capable of reading your very mind. She acts without command – she behaves in a way you find deplorable; but, without her, you would starve. You have before you the necessary evils of survival.

You observe the bustle of the market, eyes flicking from patron to patron: a child clutching a doll as her mother argues with a vendor over the price of goods; an elderly woman ushering a greyhound by a worn leash; a man lifting a spoon filled with gelato to the mouth of his partner, who accepts the treat gleefully. No one catches your eye . . . Until a man clad in an open-chest white suit steps out from the bakery and joins the rabble on the street.

His clothing practically flaunts his wealth. His bobbed dark hair, completed with two gold clips, is exquisite, and not a single strand falls out of place. You think that he would make a lovely target – and she agrees.

You are careful to leave a considerable amount of space between yourself and him. You know little of your entity’s capacities; however, the copious amount of times you have used her to steal food, never to be traced back to you, has taught you that she is invisible to everyone.

Everyone except for you, of course.

You do not consider yourself a thief, for it is not your hand slipping into the pocket of the man’s jacket. An accessory to crime, maybe, but never the thief. You rationalize your actions as this: he should have known better than to venture towards this end of Napoli dressed in such a way – one making him stand out amongst the locals. Anyone who comes here knows pickpocketing is a common practice.

You can feel the wallet through her touch – firm leather to your fingertips. She appears before you, dropping the stolen article into your waiting palm. With a grin, you look up to offer a silent gesture of appreciation.

Only to be met with the glare of two sapphire-blue eyes.

You freeze, dumbfounded. Never have you been caught before. The wallet feels like a lead weight, practically scorching your skin. Out of fear? Guilt? You do not dwell on the possibilities pulsing in your racing mind. Instead, you turn on heels covered with a set of mismatched shoes and run. A cold sweat saturates your spine. The clattering of rushed footsteps echo behind you. A crash resonates, followed by the accusatory spats of the vendors. You weave through the crowds with no true destination in mind. Yet, as if coerced by muscle memory, your legs carry you to your shelter.

Somehow, amidst the market congestion, you have lost him. You slink down the alley and hide behind a heap of discarded cardboard boxes. The passage of time is indiscernible, and so you count the steady ticking of waterdrops from the rainspout attached to the bakery. It is only after you reach a hundred do you decide you are finally safe. Standing, you open the wallet to count your prize.

As you dig for loose lira, the brick wall before you separates; a diagonal golden zipper appears seemingly out of nowhere, and the man steps through the black void created by the incision. In your state of confusion, the wallet clammers from your hand. You stumble backwards and trip over a broken trashcan lid. The asphalt meets your hip with bruising force.

The man says nothing to you. He reaches for the wallet, which has earned a newly acquired scuffmark. With no means of escaping the situation, you helplessly watch him check its contents. Wordlessly, he produces a stack of bills and extends it to you. Suspicious of his intent, you do not move to take the money. You scuttle away, whimpering at your newfound pain.

“My name is Bruno,” he says to you. Though you struggle to create a greater space between you two, he does not move to approach you. “Take it.”

You shake your head. He holds the wallet in his opposite hand, emphasizing its presence.

“You wouldn’t have stolen this if you didn’t need the money.”

Bruno is absolutely right. But you do not trust him. After moments of refusal pass, he sets the money on the ground and steps away. It is only once you deduce that he cannot grab you do you snatch the money. You bound off in a hobbled sprint, vacating the alley and leaving him behind. He is unable to tear his gaze away from the shabby heap of boxes you typically dwell beneath. Your apprehensiveness is undeniably disheartening, but nothing to lose sleep over, for he will do whatever it takes to earn your faith in due time. He knows you cannot be blamed for your actions; to Bruno, it is obvious you have been beaten down by the very system that has forced many women into the same circumstances as yourself.

A mound of tattered blankets makes up what he believes is your bed. Cans of half-finished, spoiled foods collect in a heap by the foot of your bedding. You remind him of a cat – and he has always had a pension for strays.

Days later, Bruno returns to the alleyway of Il Cestino del Pane and Via dei Libri carrying a basket filled with fresh bread and softened figs. It is a mere gamble that you might have returned after the incident. Before your shelter, he catches the sight of you hunched over a rusted water pail. You splash water on your face to cleanse the grime from your skin.

He wonders if you stayed because you wanted him to find you.

You know he is there, yet you do not cower. Still, you grow tense in his presence. You allow him to come close enough so he might, for the first time, gaze upon your cleaned face. He realizes just how beautiful of a woman you are – his Medusa, cast from the holy temple by the ones who scorned you; reduced to living on the streets with narcotic addicts and rapists, as if you are one of them.

A woman like you deserves to be loved. You deserve the very worship he is so willing to bestow upon you, in a home shared with you alone.

He opens the basket and bequeaths to you its contents. You salivate at the loaf of bread in your grasp, though you refuse to eat. You will not do so until he is gone. Begrudgingly, he takes his leave, though not before offering you a kind smile.

One day, he reckons, you will return the gesture.

When the sun sets over Napoli, the city transforms into a haven for the less reputable members of society. Men and women of the brothels take to the corners at the behest of their procurers. Cab drivers lie in wait of drunken tourists to scam with overpriced fare. Would-be human traffickers hide in the blackest pools of alleyways until a pretty foreigner is unlucky enough to walk by.

And you have learned how to avoid them all – the prostitutes and the pimps, cab drivers and tourists, human traffickers and foreigners. There is not much a homeless woman such as yourself can offer to any party of the night.

Not for anyone, except Bruno Bucciarati, the young Capo of Passione. From the shadows, he watches as you make your way through the street of shops and send your entity to collect food and other necessities. You carry on until your arms are full. He admires your resilience.

You do not see the division in the sidewalk until you have already fallen to the ground. Your collection of stolen goods scatters across the cobblestone street, lost to the darkness. On your hands and knees, you scramble to gather anything that has not split open or fallen into puddles. A man with a pocketknife in his hand and pock marks on his arms approaches, unbeknownst to you – but very known to the ever-aware Bruno.

It is not an uncommon practice for the homeless of Napoli to prey on each other. The man wielding the knife wants nothing more than a scrap of the food lying before you. To Bruno, however, he is a potential threat to what limited sanctity you might have. The man creeps closer, closer, closer.

And he is gone before you have the chance to turn around. The remnants of a zipper mark the spot where he once stood. You are alone again. Grateful that the night is still young, you send your entity to another vacant market stall to replace what has been lost.

Bruno emerges from the earth like a child born. He brings a white handkerchief to his cheek to wipe away the smudge of blood marring his skin – the evidence of his indiscretion. Carelessly, you wander ahead as if you were not in such a compromising situation only moments ago. But then again, you cannot be blamed for ignorance: how could you have known, if not for Bruno interference?

Grinning faintly, he folds the soiled handkerchief and tucks it into his pocket, beside his wallet – the catalyst and inspiration for his conquest of your affection. He is your protector when you cannot be.

It is a gratification that fills him with unmeasurable delight.

Bruno has lost track of how many times he has visited you; he has made a habit out of bringing you food every day that he can. It does not upset him too terribly much when he fails to find the time in his arduous work schedule to visit you, because he trusts your capabilities of stealing necessities with the aid of your Stand.

However, he cannot deny the nagging feeling blooming in his belly, reminding him that you should not be in the position of scavenging when he is perfectly capable of providing for you – of spoiling you – himself.

Today, he gifts to you cactus pears from Catania and homemade piadina ­– his mother’s recipe, no less. As always, you refuse to eat whilst he gawks at you. You do not notice the way his jaw clenches in utter vexation this time, or how his long, manicured fingers curl into a tight fist. In truth, he has grown frustrated with your antics. Bitterly, he contemplates his options: to whisk you away here and now would be far easier than playing this game any longer.

Finally recognizing his rigid composure, you back away from him. As if struck, Bruno releases his hand and sighs. He could not do such a thing – it is foolish thought. Trust is built upon honesty, and honesty alone. The legitimacy of such a bond cannot be fabricated. Per habit, he leaves you to your meal.

A light drizzle hails from the grey sky. The further he strays from the alleyway, the heavier the rainfall. Bruno supposes that the inclement weather must be the cause for the near vacancy of the market street. Despite the pattering against the sidewalks, he catches the sound of clumsy footsteps behind him. A pair of eyes practically bores into his back.

He stops to turn. Separated only by a narrow row of stone-crested townhouses, you stand there, watching him. You, too, have ventured far from the security of your alleyway. You cower behind a streetlamp, as if it could mask the pleading look in your gaze.

Please, don’t leave me.

Bruno’s mouth falls agape. Perhaps his gattina randagia is ready to come home, after all. 

The water pools around your bare form, concaving to every curve and crevice of your body. Though you graciously allowed Bruno the role of bathing you, you keep your knees bent and taut to your chest, refusing him to look upon your intimate regions. It is a most uncomfortable feeling to expose yourself to someone else; yet, you do not wish to be left alone, for you are beholden to his company.

He shields your eyes with his palm before pouring the basin over your shampooed hair. You practically lean into his touch. He is glad you cannot read his mind; it is a battle within his conscience to contain himself. He maintains his collected façade – despite how badly he wants nothing more than flip you onto your stomach and take you, forcing your body to rim of the bathtub.

The hand on your eyes falls and dips into the water. Bruno pulls his arm back and forth, tracing a figure-eight in the water. His mind has wandered, to be sure. In his other hand, he holds a washcloth, which he has been using to wash your skin. Slowly, he drags it over the backs of your thighs, gingerly scrubbing.

You push his arm away when the cloth ghosts over your slit.

“Give me the soap,” you suddenly demand – the first words you have ever spoken to him, full of malice no less. Bruno frowns. “I can do it myself.”

He grabs the bar of soap; however, he does not pass it to you. Instead, he slathers the washcloth and brings the linen back over your thighs. He wants to take care of you. This time, the hook of his finger brushes against your folds. You lash out and grab his arm, nails biting into his skin, leaving crescent-moon shaped marks as a receipt of the transgression. With far more force than before, you shove his arm away.

“Stop it. Give me the soap.”

Bruno pulls away and slumps against the side of the tub. You hug your knees tighter, expecting an apology from the man who took you in off the streets. Something dark flashes behind his eyes, and you wish you had enough room to scurry away.

“I just want to take care of you, mia gattina,” he insists, his eyes pleading with you. “Won’t you let me do that?”

His words do little to ease you. The third time he touches your folds, you strike him across the face with pruned fingers. In a flurry of black hair, his neck whips to the side. It is only when you attempt to rise from the tub that he snaps out of his stupor and throws his arm against your chest, pinning you down and leaving you with no choice but to expose yourself to him.

The water sloshes as you thrash around. Water collects in the delicate threads of Bruno’s attire, soaking him as you do the faux-marble tiled floors. Nothing seems to faze him. “Please, let me take care of you,” he begs, his grip unrelenting. You whimper, begging him to let you go. He denies you: “No, no. It’s all I want.”

Again, he palms your slit, only now you freeze and accept that you cannot stop him. You grip the edge of the tub to keep your head above the water. The coloring leaves your knuckles. A single tear rolls down your cheek.

“Don’t cry, dolcezza. Sii una brava ragazza per me.”

At once, a finger from the very hand that kept you fed for so long slides into your core with ease. Your walls involuntarily clench around him, and you grimace in pain. Whining, you attempt to buck your hips to dislodge him; he mistakes your defense for eagerness, and with a sigh, he inserts another and curls his fingers inside you.

He works you until a familiar, albeit long forgotten, throbbing sensation claims your womanhood, and incitement builds within you. Eventually, with each stroke of your folds, you relax and release the edge of tub. Your snivels of an insistence for him to stop become mewls, imploring him to continue. It has been far too long since you felt affection like this, and you find yourself melting at Bruno’s touch – as if you are a candle and he the flame.

“Brava ragazza.”

The arm on your chest disappears. Bruno braces it around your shoulders, pulling you into a seated position. When his thumb rubs your hardened nub, you whine and call his name. A prayer for him; he groans, holding you tighter.

Your hands reach out and at once, you pull his face towards your own so that your lips might meet. You allow him to explore the cavern of your mouth, and he swallows every moan blossoming from your throat. He takes your bottom lip between his teeth, swiping his tongue over the swollen blush before breaking away to admire the way you huff at the command of his fingers, your eyes shut tightly. Pleasure or distress, he knows not why – though, he suspects the former.

He reaches the deepest nook of your core. You respond to the intrusion with a breathless cry, and you bury your face into the damp crook of his neck to satiate the noises escaping you, while gripping the silken tendrils of his primp hair.

“Brave ragazza. Brava gattina, il mio amore.”

His words – his praise – send you over the edge with a shudder. The coil in your belly snaps, and you come undone on Bruno’s hand. He lets out a sigh. Slowly, he detaches from your core and moves to embrace you. Exhausted, you veer into his touch, practically buzzing with spent arousal and fervor.

Around you, the bathwater has gone cold, but Bruno’s arms are enough to keep you warm. You allow him to rub his palm against the soft skin of your back. He presses a kiss to the crown of your hair, lingering as if debating whether to do it all again.

Content, you concede and drift away, lulled to sleep by the whispering of praises in your ear.

“Il mia bellissima gattina. Ti amo tanto.”

| 3048 Words |

[finitepeace]

this week i read...

Darling, Keep the Lights On (Until I Get Home) by capsicleironman  💙

Summary: When Steve Rogers is awoken from the ice early, he is assigned as the personal assistant to Tony Stark, the man on TV with the strange glowing light in his chest. The plan was simple - protect and gain intel. It was supposed to be just another job, but then again, nothing in Steve's life has ever gone according to plan.

Iron Man 2 Divergence where Steve ends up working for Tony instead of Natasha, and his interest first in the arc reactor and then in Tony himself, leads him through the events of the Avengers, Iron Man 3, and Captain America 2.

17k words 

It's Only Half Past (The Point of Oblivion) by LadyHabren (equalopportunityobsessor)

Summary: "I think it's generally agreed that all of Steve's senses are powered up by the serum? He can hear people whispering on the other side of the room, probably sees a hell of a lot further, etc.

But there are definite downsides. How does Steve control this side effect of the serum?"

Captain America is more than a man - he is a hero, he is an ideal, he is pure muscle held together by patriotism and moral fibre... And not even Captain America can fight it when his own brain turns against him.

4k, sentinel/guide au, not set in mcu, 

Do-Over by gottalovev  💙

Summary: Steve woke up six months ago into a future that leaves him indifferent. There is work, and not much else. His current mission is a basic search and rescue operation to retrieve an American who was kidnapped by a terrorist group ten days ago. He won't let the fact that the hostage is Howard's son be a distraction.

14k words, ironman 1 - 2 but with steve on it!, 

Calls Me Home by steve-capsicle-rogers (adorable_lab_rat)

Summary: Tony can't help but notice the far away look on Steve's face. The visible pain and loss. It wasn't right and giving Steve back everything he'd lost was the right choice. The right thing. And honestly Tony didn't do the right thing near enough.

9k words, post avenger 1, tony time travels to victory day with steve to make him happy 

Memorial by hanyou_elf

Summary: Here rests in honored glory an American Soldier known but to God.

Steve visits Arlington's Tomb of the Unknown Soldier in lieu of visting the tombs of those he's lost.

600+ words, steve visits his grave and tony supports 

Damaged by orphan_account

Summary: Prompt: Can you write a story where Tony is having heart problems again even after the shrapnel and arc reactor is removed, like he needs a pacemaker or something please? :)

Steve is worried about Tony after the doctor tells them Tony needs a pacemaker. Tony being Tony decides to build something better.

2k words, arc reactor + health problem 

Warning by laireshi

Summary: Tony's left arm hurts.

100 words, angst post-civil war au 

Told You Dirty Jokes Until You Smiled by ChibiSquirt  💙

Summary: Steve was waiting at light, casually checking out the man in the car behind him, when his phone pinged.

75k words. WIP T_T . steve is cap but tony isnt ironman (yet?). steve is awaken before ironman 1 and meets tony, proceed to have friends with benefits arrangement... 

blood, Lies, and Love by Ridley160

Summary: When Steve Rogers volunteered for Project Rebirth they told him they would make him a hero. No one bothered to tell him that the serum would change him into a monster that needed to feed on the blood of the living for survival. Now he has woken up 70 years in a future where there are more like him and his affliction is now seen as gift. Only Steve is convinced that he is at his core still just a monster.

Then he meets the brilliant, quirky and charismatic Tony Stark, the only person in this crazy new world that seems to understand Steve's misgivings about what he is, but Tony is haunted by something. A secret he has carefully guarded for many years that forced him to push everyone away.

33k words in 13 chapters, steve is cap + a vampire but tony isnt ironman, 

Blood Loss by wisia

Summary: The serum really did work a miracle. It created Captain America, and Tony would like the serum to work a miracle on him too. If only he didn’t fall in love.

5k words, set in captain america 1st avenger, tony is scientist/adventurer looking for a cure for his heart problem 

scientific Heresy by antigrav_vector

Summary: In the process of running the particle accelerator in his basement and fixing the arc reactor, Tony finds himself flung into the past where he has to take on a fight not his own if he wants to get home to stop Vanko. At least he had a chance to replace the old rector that had been killing him with the new one before everything went sideways... But now he has no choice but to face off with family, friends, and old heroes, and none of that sounds remotely appealing. Well, okay, getting to meet them all during their glory days kinda does.

But as it turns out, they're not exactly what he imagined, and his path home is a lot longer than he'd hoped it would be.

And a lot more complicated.

34k words in 12 chapters, time travel au @ cap 1 and ironman 2, steve/tony/bucky 

we will meet in another life by theappleppielifestyle

Summary: Tony is there instead of Howard during Project Rebirth. He ends up following Steve into the Howling Commandos, into the Atlantic ocean and into the 21st century.

6k words, canon divergence. 

Keep on Beating by itsallAvengers

Summary: There were an awful lot of things Steve loved about Tony. But one thing in particular Steve could never get enough of was his heartbeat.

6k words, self-sacrificing tony strikes again and steve is upset.. so tony comes to a solution... 

Coming Up Roses by NobodysBloodyPrincess  💙

Summary: Those with a death wish referred to the High Commander’s infatuation with the late Tony Stark as an ‘obsession.’ They were wrong. It had to be more than that, after all there was no word for what the High Commander was about do in the name of making things right.

No one gets a redo of life… no one except High Commander Rogers that is. Everything is coming up Roses and Sunshine for him. After all, he has a dream and it’s going to come true.

41k words in 3 chapters, beautiful but a bit dark and sad, just like the author said: “‘i’ll be with you till the end of line’ but stony”, definitely one of the best fic i’ve read because THEY ARE HAPPY T_T 

The One With Bucky's Biggest Fan by justanotherpipedream

Summary: Steve still can’t believe how long it took for him to notice. It wasn’t a secret really, just something that no one had cared to ask...it honestly took Rhodey pulling him aside and pulling out an old photo album, before Steve really understood.

Tony Stark was a Bucky Barnes fan.

(aka The one where Tony is the biggest Bucky Barnes fanboy, Steve is a supportive boyfriend, and Bucky is perplexed by it all.)

2k words, it’s all in the summary 

Sins of the Mother by skullshy  💙

Summary: All she could see when her eyes closed was Steve’s face in the courtroom. Stern, pained— with that fucking all-American self-righteousness.

Toni wondered for years whether it would have made a difference. Told him that she was pregnant, that Ultron was to protect their baby, and how sorry she was.

On her worst days, she imagined it wouldn’t have mattered.

23k words in 23 chapters, female tony stark, civil war (or age of ultron?) canon divergence 

So this is bonded life by Captainstark12

Summary: Steve had been protecting the human village from hydra creatures like him for five years. And now he was ready to take his prize as he had the privilege of choosing an omega to bear his child. Hopefully his chosen omega human would want him back as much as he wanted him

4k in 6 chapters, mythology au 

I don't think there's a manual for this by itsallAvengers

Summary: So. His son can stick to things, apparently.

If only Tony had realised this before he'd caught him hanging off the 89th floor of the tower.

Well. Parenting was never going to be a smooth road, was it?

2k words, stony adopts peter parker and then they become superfamily 

For Your Eyes Only by SarahHBE

Summary: Every soldier looks forward to mail call. But Alpha Steve Rogers gets a big surprise with the letter his Omega, Tony Stark, has sent him.

2k words, explicit bcs of sexual content 

It Was Just A Matter Of Time by babynative

Summary: The clock was ticking. And then, black.

719 words, civil war canon divergence, angst 

This Can't Be The Last by MusicalLuna

Summary: Hours after a mission ends, Tony's heart starts to race.

1k words, tony had a heart attack, but not angst! 

The Billionaire and the Army Captain by Neverever

Summary: Facing finanical ruin and needing to care for his sick daughter, Steve Rogers agrees to marry Tony Stark, who needs to get married by his 30th birthday to inherit. It's just a job for Steve until he starts to fall for the enigmatic billionaire.

12k words, non-powers au, 

Adopt by greenteeth  💙

Summary: Steve's life is the same as usual. He goes to work, fights super villains, banters with other Avengers and goes home to an empty apartment. Until the son of an old friend shows up asking for help, well sex first, then help. Suddenly Steve is married, fighting super villains, worrying what Obadiah Stane and coming home to Tony most nights of the week.

42k words in 17 chapters, ABO, tony is not iron man, the story is complete but it’s a part of series that seems to never see the light T_T 

The Act of Creation Will Be Your Salvation  by scifigrl47  💙

Summary: When Tony Stark was seventeen years old, he built his first AI. On that day, he ceased to be his father's creation, and became a creating force in his own right.

That one act likely saved his life, and not always in the most obvious ways.

84k words in 8 chapters, stony but mostly looking through his AI bots a.k.a. jarvis and dum-e, definitely one of the best fics ever! 

Bewitched, Body and Soul by iam93percentstardust

Summary: Almost ten years after joining the British Army, Steve Rogers returns to his childhood home after his mother's death. The house seems quiet in a way that it's rarely been. But the peace is shattered when his oldest friend stumbles into his home and into his life, seeking an escape from an arranged marriage to a cruel lord. Steve provides that escape but finds himself engaged to be married instead. This wouldn't be a problem - except that Steve is, always has been, and always will be deeply in love with Tony Stark.

16k words, regency AU, ABO,  the classic stony misunderstanding trope 

Right place, right time by hkandi, ralsbecket

Summary: An alternate take on the Captain America: The First Avenger movie. Tony is working with his dad to help out the SSR on this new project, though he and Steve happen to run into each other before that, and sparks fly from the start.

8k, CA: First avenger AU with tony stark present