#it was just too big in scope for me to keep that many moving parts going

[aparticularbandit]

but also for someone who has definitely played around with amnesia and rebuilding and reliving and such stuff in fic before (just because i never posted it doesn't mean i didn't play around with it), i. now kind of want to figure out how to play around with that with junko. the scenario would need to be different. but.

[strang3lov3]

VS

Summary: Yours and Joel’s newest patrol task is exploring the old mall not far from Jackson. You learn what Victoria’s Secret really is. (She was NOT having an affair with former president of the United States Colonel Sanders) AKA grumpy cranky joel and you get down and dirty in an old Victoria’s Secret.

This is part 1 of my new series “Mall Rats”

Warnings: smut, fingering, unprotected piv, creampie, doin it in front of a mirror (thanks gracie!), reverse cowgirl, joel is a dick, joel is condescending, reader is charming just like me, Joel does all the work because reader is a lady and Joel is an asshole.

W/C: 4.7k

“Weird looking stairs,” you mumble as you take in the unique environment. Beneath your feet are metallic steps with deep lined grooves, in front of you is Joel, stepping down the staircase. In the enclosed building, the walls are lined with different shops, there’s a few different seating areas. Old posters, advertisements. Colorfully painted walls are overgrown with roots and vines. 

“S’cause they’re not regular stairs,” Joel says with a gruff voice. “S’called an escalator. Didn’t have to walk up and down the steps, you could stay stationary and it’d move ya up an’ down.”

“Sounds cool.”

“No,” Joel mutters. “Not cool.”

None of this is cool to Joel. In fact, it’s the opposite. 

Tommy and his crew had stumbled across this mall while on patrol. Of course they couldn’t be one hundred percent sure, but they deemed it largely safe of infected. He wasn’t sure how picked over it was, but he figured it would be a good task for you and your curious mind. Comb it through for supplies, clothing, entertainment. Take notes and report back to him. 

So what was Joel there for?

To chaperone you, of course. Keep you out of trouble, keep you safe, answer your million and one questions. 

It was Tommy’s sick and twisted idea of a joke. Joel’s new patrol project involved two of the things he disdained the most: Malls, and you.

 Comedy gold.

“No,” you mock his tone with a silly face, “Not cool.”

Joel rolls his eyes and ignores you. When you reach the bottom of the steps, he looks at his surroundings as he reaches in his bag for his flashlight. Turning it on he says, “We’ll start down here and work our way up. Scope everything out, get familiar. Then you can start combing through the stores for supplies and what have you. You stick by me. No wanderin’.”

“Don’t you mean we?” you ask. “We comb through the stores.”

“No, sweetheart, I don’t. S’your job, not mine. I’m just here to keep ya from gettin’ killed.”

Whatever. Joel can bitch and moan about this all he wants, but you’re grateful for the opportunity to explore the infinite wonders of the mall. It’s not like you’ve got much else to do. You’re indoors, safe from the elements and infected. You’re not complaining. 

You reach into your own bag and pull out your flashlight. You turn it on, and the light flickers dimly. You smack it with your palm a couple times before the light finally goes out, then turn to Joel with a sweet smile on your face. “You wouldn’t happen to have a couple extra–”

“You’re lucky I do,” Joel glares at you as he digs through his belongings to find a couple of double A batteries in his pack. You hold out your hand and he begrudgingly drops the batteries in your palm. “Quit fuckin’ around. Be prepared next time.” He’s certainly jolly today. 

You replace the batteries and turn your flashlight on, and begin to make your way through the bottom level of the mall. Joel’s said nothing since giving you the batteries. 

“So what did you do here? Or, not here specifically. Just like, malls in general,” you ask as you make your way through tables and chairs. A big sign on a nearby wall informs you that this area is called the food court. 

“I did nothing. Malls were always packed with people, way too busy. Too many teenagers. Expensive too,” Joel scrunches his nose as he catches a whiff of something foul at an old hot dog stand. “But other people, they’d come here and shop for clothes, get somethin’ to eat. Could catch a movie f’ya wanted.”

“So where’d you get your clothes from?”

Joel shrugs. “Dunno. Just kinda always had them in my dresser, I guess.”

Sounds like Joel. 

There’s a Panda Express, something called Auntie Anne’s that you and Joel are looking through together. He’s eyeing the cooking equipment and you’re baffled as you stare at a five gallon drum of nacho cheese on the floor.

“That cheese is probably still good,” Joel comments. 

“You’re joking.”

“It ain’t the real cheese like we got back in Jackson. Auntie Anne’s was a pretzel shop, lotta people would dip ‘em in that cheese.”

Auntie Anne’s doesn’t have much to offer, so you and Joel move right along. Next stop is Kentucky Fried Chicken. You point to the man on the logo. “Who’s that?”

“Colonel Sanders. He was the president way back when.”

You know better. “No, he wasn’t.”

“Sure he was,” Joel says. “You weren’t there. You don’t know.”

He’s such a dick. You roll your eyes and leave him and Colonel Sanders to their own devices as you walk through the rest of the food court. 

Joel doesn’t realize you’d left. He tells you another Kentucky Fried Fun Fact and when he’s met with no answer, he looks up to find you at Cinnabon at the end of the food court. 

He makes his way to you then kicks you with his boot. “Didn’t I tell you to stay next to me?”

You ignore his question and ask him your own. “What’s Cinnabon?”

“M’serious,” he says. “No more wanderin’.”

“Yeah, yeah. No wanderin’.” you mock his Southern accent once more. But more importantly, you demand answers. “Tell me about Cinnabon.” 

“They’re just cinnamon rolls. Cinnamon. Bun. S’in the name, genius.”

“I’m guessing you didn’t like those much either, then.”

“Actually, they were pretty good. Big and gooey, covered in icing. You were supposed to split ‘em with someone but I never did.”

“Ah, right. You and your sweet tooth,” You smile. 

“I don’t have a sweet tooth,” Joel lies. “Keep movin’.”

So you do. There’s a lemonade stand here and there, but mostly shops now. A bookstore, jewelry stores. Something called “Wet Seal”. You ask Joel what it is, to which he replies “Fuck if I know.”

A shoe store has piqued Joel’s interest. He’s looking for a new pair of boots as you stare out the window of the shop, wondering who the hell Victoria is and what secret she’s hiding. Joel taps you on the arm to tell you to follow him as he leaves the shoe store.

“What’s Victoria’s Secret?”

“Oh,” Joel says. “Nothin’. We don’t need to go there.”

Oof. Bad move, Joel. Now you have to find out what the deal is with Victoria’s Secret. You take off for the store, ignoring Joel’s orders to stick by his side. “Did she have a secret affair with President Colonel Sanders?”

“No, god dammit. Get back here. We ain’t goin’.”

“Why not?”

“I just don’t wanna.”

But you do. So you ignore his bitching and approach the store, stopping when you realize exactly what kind of store it is. “Oh.”

Joel catches up to you. “Mhm,” he mumbles. “S’just underwear. Now c’mon, I’m tired of chasin’ ya.”

“No way,” you argue. “I need new underwear. I’m actually going commando right now, so this is perfect.”

 Joel makes a face like he’s in pain and pinches the bridge of his nose. “Jesus Christ. Boundaries.”

You don’t believe in TMI. 

You enter the store, entranced by the women in the photos and the black sparkly floor. There’s a big table with panties laid on top, drawers underneath that indicate sizing. You open the drawers with your size and begin sifting through the underwear. All different styles, patterns, colors. Way cuter than the few you have back in Jackson. 

You pick out a few different pairs. Brown with pink polka dots, pink with red roses. Some bikini styles, some boyshorts. You hold up a white pair with lace and a little blue flower sewn on the center of the waistband. “Joel, look! Aren’t these cute?”

“Just adorable,” he mumbles without bothering to actually look. If his voice were any more full of sarcasm he’d choke. Joel keeps his eyes firm on the ground, like he’s being intimidated by the mannequins and their threatening panties. You giggle and he shoots you a warning look. 

You look for a few more pairs, then find a few pairs that look a little different. You hold one up, trying to figure out which side you put your legs through. When you look at the nearly bare-assed woman in the advertisement that reads 5 for $20 above you, you realize how it’s meant to be worn. Oh, you think. Neato. You stuff a few of the thongs in your bag. Could be fun. 

Joel’s still behind you, eyes still focused on the floor, off in his own, prudish little world. You wonder what he’s thinking. There’s a fire engine red thong in the drawer, with sparkles and lace. You know, the works. And you know it’ll be just perfect for a special someone. “Hey, Joel. Found some for you.”

“Not interested.”

You loop the thong over your index finger and pull back with your other hand, then shoot it at Joel like it’s a hair tie. It hits him square on his nose and he catches it in his hand, then throws it on the ground as he pouts. “Alright, enough. You’re done. We’re leavin’.”

You shake your head. “Tommy said I’m in charge.”

Joel groans. “Oh, for the love of god. In charge, my ass.”

You know better than to keep arguing. So you just walk towards the bras, ignoring Joel’s voice in the background telling you to get back here. He hates it when you walk away from him when he’s speaking, so he always follows you so that you hear every last word. It works out, though. You get to do what you want, and Joel gets to give you his stern talking-to. How’s that for a compromise?

The bras are set up similarly to the panties, with different drawers for different sizes. Joel’s still going off about how you never follow orders, how you probably don’t even need any of this, you’re just doing it to get under his skin. And it’s working. Something about how when we get back to Jackson, I’m telling Tommy to take me off of patrol with y–

You interrupt. “The fuck?”

“What?”

“What does any of this mean? 30A, 30B, 32A, 34C, 34DD?” You hold up different bras and show him the tags. 

“Those are sizes, sweetheart.” 

“Yeah, I gathered that, thanks. But what’s my size?”

“Why’re ya askin’ me? Just grab one so we can go. Christ almighty.” 

Men. No help at all. 

Surely a store that specializes in bras must have some sort of sizing chart or something. There’s end caps with different beauty products, you stuff a strawberry flavored lipgloss in your pocket as you search. The register might have something, you guess. And lucky you, you’re right. Under the counter are a few measuring tapes and charts. 

Predictable Joel follows you, of course. He says nothing as you read through the instructions. First wrap around your back, under your armpits and just above your bust. That’s your band size. Then do the same with your bust, and subtract the band size from the bust. There’s your A, B, C, D and so on.

You take off your hoodie and stand in just a tank top, no bra. When you said commando, you meant it. Joel watches you as you wrap the measuring tape around yourself. 

“Sweetheart,” Joel interrupts, and he sounds exhausted. “What are you doin’.”

“Making you a Cinnabon, what’s it look like?” you mumble with your chin smushed into your neck as you try to read the numbers on the tape. 

And Joel thought Ellie was annoying. 

You’ve got the measuring tape twisted and tangled behind you, and you don’t even realize it. The inner contractor in Joel can’t bear to watch any more of this fuckery. “Give me that,” he spits, yanking the measuring tape away from your body. “You’re useless.”

Joel looks over the directions for a moment before tapping your arms. You lift up, he wraps the measuring tape properly around your body. There’s a nearby pen and he scribbles the number down, then lowers the measuring tape, his thumbs skating over the clothed flesh of your breasts. Your nipples harden as his fingers brush them accidentally. 

And you thought the thong you shot at Joel was red. It doesn’t even begin to compare to the shade of crimson Joel’s face turns as he realizes what he’s done. Quickly, he drops the measuring tape and writes down the second number and your bra size. “Ther-” his voice cracks and he clears his throat. “There. Go find your bra. Then we’re leavin’, and I’m not arguin’ this time.”

You smirk at his vocal mishap. “Okay. But I have to try them on first.”

“You never make things easy for me, do you?”

Joel follows you as you look for a few different bras in your size. You pick out a few that match your panties, and a few others. There’s a silky black bra with so much memory foam padding that it rivals your pillow at home. Again, perfect for your special someone. 

Joel’s smelling different perfumes when you sidle up to him and lay the bra on his head, the large cups sitting on either side of his scalp. “Mickey Mouse,” you tell him.

Joel glares at you as he removes the bra and drops it on the floor. “You are giving me a fuckin’ aneurysm.” 

You look pleased with yourself, which only makes him more pissed off. But the table next to Joel catches your eye. There’s a pretty satin babydoll dress, with a matching pair of panties. It’s a nice light pink color, with pretty floral lace. “Hmm.” you mumble, thinking to yourself.

Joel watches your eyes leave his face as you become distracted. “What?” he turns his attention toward where your vision is focused. “Oh. Nope. You don’t need that.”

 “Why not?”

“You said you needed underwear. S’lingerie. All them frills and lace…” Joel trails off.

“I think it’d be nice for a date night.”

Joel’s jaw clenches slightly. “I do not envy the poor bastard who takes you home,” he says. He’s probably just annoyed, at his wit’s end with you. Probably not jealous. Definitely not jealous. “But guys don’t give a shit what you’re wearin’, honey. Just wanna get what’s underneath. S’a waste of time.”

You shrug and grab your size in the lingerie anyway. Then you take off towards the dressing rooms to try everything on. You enter the first room on the right, and Joel sits at a bench directly across, just a few feet away from you. 

You try on a couple of bras and feel pleased when they fit and support you. They make the girls sit pretty, too.

You take off the bra and eye the pretty babydoll and its matching bottom. So you try it on, and it’s gorgeous. It frames you nicely, sits right above your ass to show off the panties. You admire yourself in the mirror for a while before deciding you’ll save it for a date night. Fuck what Joel says. Maybe he doesn’t like lingerie, but that doesn’t mean you can’t. 

Things are going smoothly until you try to unhook the babydoll in the back. It’s stuck or something. You fidget with it for a second, accidentally smacking your elbow against one of the dressing room walls in the process. 

“Y’alright in there?” Joel calls out to you.

“Fine, just uh…” You step out of the dressing room. “Need your help with the hook in the back. It’s stuck.”

Joel looks like a deer in the headlights when you stand before him, clad in your pink satin babydoll and matching panties. You leave the changing room door open, Joel stares at your ass on the mirror attached to it. He’s all flustered, eyes wide and mouth agape. “Lord have mercy.”

“Yeah, I know. You’re not a lingerie guy.”

Joel swallows thickly. “I don’t know about that, exactly.”

“No?” You raise an eyebrow. Joel, suddenly a man of few words. How much nicer he is when he’s quiet, you think. “How about you unhook it so I can change?”

“Yeah I could uh…do that.” Joel stands up, then carefully holds the straps of your dress between his fingers. His featherlight touch leaves goosebumps on your shoulders. “Shouldn’t be wearin’ this. It’s very impractical.” 

“I know, Joel. You mentioned that.”

His hands trail lower down the straps, his fingers resting against your skin. “Uh huh. Cheap material…could get torn very easily f’ya aren’t careful.”

And then his fingers are moving up the straps again. He places two hands on your hips and turns you around, fingers skating across your ass cheeks. You feel his body step closer to yours, his hot breath on your neck as he whispers, “M’sure it's not stitched too good. Probably not easy to clean, either.” He catches you off guard when you look at yourself in the mirror. He’s staring intently at the reflection of your body, then his eyes flicker to yours.

“Right,” you agree. 

Joel’s scanning your body again, observing how the fabric falls around your curves just so. He looks hungry, like the moment you peel your eyes from him he’ll devour you.

“Are you gonna take it off of me?” He ignores your question as he pinches the bottom of your babydoll between his fingers, the soft satin tickling your skin as he moves the fabric. “Joel?”

“Yeah, hon. I’m gettin’ there. Be patient f’me, now.” Your stomach flutters at the low timbre of his voice, the way he purrs in your ear. Joel absolutely does not like lingerie. Not one bit, god dammit.

His eyes are darkened with lust as he sucks in a breath, admiring the way your breasts sit beneath the clothing, the way it drapes over your stomach and rests on your hips. One of the straps falls off your shoulder and he clicks his tongue. “See? S’no good.”

“Guess so,” you agree, and he places the strap back on your shoulder, his fingers lingering for a moment too long as he contemplates his next move.

“Closer,” he pulls your hand towards himself, and you step backward. He lets his hands slide down your body over the lingerie and you watch him frown in the mirror, his hands stopping when he reaches the bottom of your dress. “N’it covers up all these pretty curves…” Joel lifts up the fabric, inspecting the craftsmanship of your panties. He takes note of the way they’re darkened beneath your core, sticky with your arousal. “These panties…thin, huh?” He traces a finger delicately over the strap on your hip, pulling it back and snapping on your skin. 

Your breath hitches in your throat. “Joel,” you breathe shakily, “You’re teasing me.”

“M’sorry, darlin’. Just tryna show ya somethin’.” You watch as he trails a finger over your mound, dragging it across the damp cloth and finding your clit over the fabric. He rubs steady circles as he whispers, “See, now look at that. You’re stainin’ em. Makin’ a big fuckin’ mess of yourself.”

You bite back a moan. “Joel, what are you doing?”

“What’s it look like, I’m makin’ a Cinnabon.” Joel mocks you from earlier, but you don’t catch his snide teasing. You’re foggy headed and lost in this moment. “I just said I’m tryna show ya somethin’. Now hush while I’m speakin’.” He pushes your panties to the side, smirking when he feels how soaked your soft folds are as he drags his fingers up and down your slit. Your knees weaken and wobble, and Joel wraps an arm around your waist to guide you back some more. He sits on the bench with you on his lap, tapping a foot in between yours. You spread your legs and your stomach flutters feeling his hardness press against you. You watch him through the mirror as he speaks quietly into your ear, his breath tickling you as two of his thick fingers breach your entrance and push inside. “You said this lil’ number would be nice for a date, right?”

You nod while whimpering, turning your face into his neck. With his other strong hand, he holds your jaw and turns your attention back to the mirror in front of you. “S’matter? Don’t be gettin’ all bashful on me now,” he murmurs.  He’s curling his fingers, swirling them inside you and memorizing every inch of your walls. “Watch how I touch ya.”

You watch his fingers twitch and dance under your pretty pink panties. You peel your eyes away to look at his face, and he’s focused on his hand between your thighs. 

“S’pose it could be nice for a date,” Joel breathes. “You’d wear this, what, under a pretty dress or somethin’?”

You nod again.

“And then when that pretty dress comes off that evenin’, then what happens?”

“I-I dunno, Joel.”

“I know you don’t, sweetheart. I’ll tell you what happens. Your gentleman's gonna take one look at this little getup and rip it right off. Leave it in shreds on the floor and break your poor heart.”

You’re waiting for Joel to do just that. But he doesn’t, he just keeps fingering you under your panties. Two fingers deep inside you, thumb painting circles into your clit. There’s a heat building in your stomach, tickling you from the inside. Joel takes a moment to lift you up, undo his jeans and pull himself out before he begins to rock against you. His head nudges between your cheeks, warm and smooth and hard. How you wish you could see it, hold it in your hand, feel him with your tongue. You squirm against him and find his free arm, hugging it tight to steady yourself on him. Joel chuckles in a low tone.

“But I know you feel pretty,” Joel continues, “M’gonna work around it for ya, baby, but only if you’re good t’me. You know what that means?”

You’re irritated as you shake your head no. Joel’s using his fingers to taunt you, tease you. He knows just how he’s working you up, giving you just enough to keep you squirming but not enough to send you over the edge.

“It means–” Joel pulls his fingers away from your core and you groan. “Shush. Quit your whinin’.” He pushes you up by your hips so he can pull his pants down a little further, then sits you on his lap again, this time with his cock sitting between your folds and your panties pulled as far to the side as he could get them. With his hands still on your hips, he guides you up and down, up and down, coating himself in your arousal. You can just barely make out the shape as his tip rubs against your clit. He continues, “Means no more wanderin’,” he pulls the top of the babydoll down and watches your tits fall out, his both hands leaving your hips and sliding up to play with your breasts. “Y’come prepared for patrol,” he notches his stiff cock at your dripping entrance, “And I’m in charge. Not you. We clear?”

You nod. You’re not sure how he did it, but with Joel’s teasing, he’s seemingly melted away every bit of attitude in you.

“Good girl. Now don’t say I don’t do nothin’ for ya.”

With that, he thrusts up into you, parting your insides. You watch his cock disappear inside of you before throwing your head back on his shoulder with a moan. Joel smirks before using a firm yet gentle hand to guide your head back where he wants it. “Watch,” he coos, reminding you. “You’re pretty like this.”

Joel uses his hands on your hips to bounce you on his cock, then lets them glide up your body. He palms your breasts, squeezing and watching your flesh move and bulge under his fingers. He gropes you a couple of times while pinching and twisting your nipples, enjoying the way your moans change pitch with the action. 

While Joel plays with your nipples, you ride him. Your thighs ache and tremble, knees shaking. You bounce yourself on him a little longer before letting yourself go limp. 

Joel takes the hint, drops his hands to your hips and picks up where you left off. You lean back and let him do his thing. “Gonna make me do all the work for ya, huh?”

You say nothing, just let those sweet sounds fall from your lips as he fucks you. You reach between your thighs and touch what you can of him, unsatisfied with the way you didn’t get to before. Joel makes a noise, seemingly enjoying it.

He kneads your ass as he uses his strong arms to move you up and down, snapping his hips against yours. “Fuck,” he hisses. He lets out breathy sounds, grunts and growls tickling your ear and making the hair on your neck stand straight up. He’s sweating, soaking through his shirt and making your back feel damp. You’ll take what you can get of Joel right now, but you’re wishing you could see him better. Feel him more, his skin, watch his muscles twitch under you. Or above you. You don’t have a preference at the moment.

“Joel,” you moan. “Oh, Joel.”

He smirks, pleased with the noises you make. Pleased with your lack of words, your lack of attitude. How docile for him you are. He would have fucked you long ago if he knew you’d be like this. So well behaved. 

He turns his face into your neck and bites down. Hard. He soothes the marks over with his tongue, whispering nothings into your skin. You find your clit with your hand and begin circling it while Joel fucks into you. You think you have the right. Joel, however, disagrees.

“Hey,” he smacks your hand away. “What’d we talk about? Who’s in charge?” You move your hand between your thighs again, and Joel circles your wrist with his fingers and holds it away from you. “I asked you a question.”

“You are, Joel,” you breathe. 

“S’right. Means I take care of ya,” In the mirror, you watch Joel let go of your wrist and find your clit himself. “Thought you’d know better. Just sit pretty. S’all ya gotta do.”

“Joel,” you whisper, “Let me come,” 

“What’s the magic word, hon?”

“Please,” you beg. “Please. Make me come for you, I want–I wanna come on your cock, please. Please, Joel.”

“Wrong,”

You huff, exasperated and frustrated. 

 “It’s Cinnabon.”

Joel shifts himself on the bench, finding the perfect angle. He continues fucking you, effortlessly finding that sweet spot inside you. He pulls back the hood of your clit, fingers painting the sensitive nub as he begins his work. Your thighs tremble and shake, he keeps you pressed tight to his chest. 

He’s magic. You’re moaning with abandon, eyes darting between the picture between your thighs and his face, and he’s playing with you like he owns you. 

“Right there,” you tell him. “Right there, Joel.”

Soon enough, your moans become breathier and broken, spread out between a medley of curse words and Joel’s name. 

“Yeah,” he says. “Look at you, comin’ so nice on my cock.”

You squeeze Joel’s working arm as you come, nails digging into his hot skin, feeling his tendons and muscles twitch under your fingertips. Your walls pulse and contract with your orgasm, the pleasure built up deep inside you spilling over and coursing through your veins. 

You’re limp against Joel, letting him use you as he chases his own release. He sits you straight up, bounces you harshly for a moment before breathing through his gritted teeth. You pull your attention from the mirror in front of you and focus your vision on your lap, watching as he comes inside you. Watching yourself soak his cock. He keeps you moving, his spend spilling out of you and over your pink panties. 

Joel pulls your body off of him and sits you back down. His spend continues dripping out of you, spilling onto the bench. He gets your clothes out of the dressing room and places them next to you, then stands you up and unclips your babydoll dress in the back. You forgot about that. But he did say he was getting to it, after all. 

He pulls the garment off of you, then helps you out of your stained panties. He helps you into a new pair of panties, the white pair with the little blue flower on the waistband. “So you’re not goin’ commando anymore,” he says. Then he dresses you in one of your new bras, your shirt and your pants. The lingerie lays crumpled on the floor. 

“So you still don’t like lingerie?” you ask.

Joel shrugs. “Keep it. I don’t care,” He presses a kiss to your forehead. “You tried your shit on, we’re leavin’.”

That’s fine by you. Next stop is Bath and Body Works. You spotted it earlier, and you actually know what that store is. You’re low on body sprays and you’re gonna make Joel help you pick out some new ones, even if you have to drag him kicking and screaming. 

‘Cause Tommy said you’re in charge. 

Part two here

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[jjenthusee]

Handshakes And Trash Cans

Pairing: Jason Todd x Reader

a/n: simply, i wrote a lot and i didn’t wanna release it in parts, so i squeezed the entire fic here. I’ve been having fun writing small excerpts and then they turn into full fics. Jason deserves all the love, so i focused on a neighbors to lovers? No mention of vigilante stuff, but tons of domesticity. With some mentions of big brother Dick (i’m a firm believer that he’s the number one supporter of Jason and just wants the best for him), a bit of steaminess if u squint, and a very devoted Jason. leave me any comments if your comfortable sharing because i wanna know what u guys think XD and if you were crying screaming sliding down the wall like i was (also despite me still being in my repenting era, i wanted to release this as an early apology cause i wanna write another angsty drabble so maybe…maybe not look forward to that) ENJOY (link to the work before this one here)

word count: 7.1k

tags: pining, tons of fluff, strangers to friends to lovers, heartfelt confessions, big brother dick shenanigans

When you got your first two-bedroom apartment, you always thought the dream would only be possible with a roommate. You didn’t have much money during college and transitioning into a full-time job didn’t allow you to freely spend outside of necessities and rent.

But you did it. You got two bedrooms and you didn’t initially know what to do with the extra room. A hobby space, a library, a guest room, or an office? There were too many possibilities.

This was your space, so you combined it all. A basket to keep all of your current craft obsessions next to a bean bag, two full shelves of books from your childhood to your university years, and a desk in the corner to write. It was everything you hoped for. A spot to leave work out of, to decompress and remember the things that made you happy.

You were proud you did it on your own. You could enjoy solitude, your hard work and give time to prioritize yourself.

But an unexpected accomplishment came with an unexpected visitor. A handsome visitor no less. Maybe being an adult wasn’t so bad all the time.

…

But meeting new people was bad. Or you were bad at it.

When you were up at two in the morning, doing normal two a.m. activities like trying to turn your entire life around, you believed that dragging yourself to one of the community events at the apartment complex would help you get to know your neighbors. Then you could scope the scene to see if you wanted to hide forever or maybe have a friendly acquaintance you acknowledged in the hallway.

Now you wanted neither as you sat, alone, at a bar stool in the well decorated community balcony. Although you were distancing yourself from the main party, you couldn’t help admiring the string lights they hung up, the pristine décor, and new furniture. They clearly went through a grand renovation before you moved in.

Despite your need to socially decompress from all the small talk, you did feel mellow in the warm lighting, listening to the slow music you quietly hummed to.

The view was great from your table, you got to see from the edge of the balcony into the city view. Gotham City did have its moments and lots of outsiders tend to see all the bad that overruns it, but when the city is calm, it has its own virtue.

As you watched the sky line, a man also decided to join in, admiring the city lights. He stood farther from where you sat, leaning against the glass and steel railing. He was probably distancing himself from the party like you were. You could only see half of his face from your current angle and distance, but he was…charming. Broody and charming.

Gotham did have the best views, but staring was bad. A little bit of hope crept into your mind at the thought of a handsome neighbor living in the same apartment building.

Another pretty man joined him. Wow, you never realized that Gotham had a lot of great views. Maybe you needed to get out more, enjoy the scenery a bit.

The two beautiful men seemed to know each other. One more talkative than the other, but they seemed close. It was amusing watching the way they contrasted one another, a man clearly dragged to be here tonight and the other fueling himself with the night vibe.

As much as you wanted to continue to be nosy, maybe it was time to call it a night, it was late and you got enough of your pretty boy fill for the evening. Which would have been the plan if you didn’t make eye contact with the second model that blessed your eyes.

You nervously observed the charismatic man walking toward you with a bright friendly smile.

“Hello, I just wanted to ask if my brother—the tall very alone one standing over there—could be tall and very alone over here, in this seat.” He dragged the stool out from underneath the glass table you were resting your arms on.

You looked at the empty seat across from you, then glanced at his presumed brother you were staring at earlier. He clearly didn’t agree to this sudden turn of events as he watched the two of you talk and he looked more mortified than you were. It was…cute. It brought a smile to your face.

“Well, your tall and very alone brother looks scared of me.” You glanced back to the man still holding the chair out.

Your comment must have been hysterical at the way the man was almost leaning forward from laughing. His dimples fully visible and his hair falling forward. Everything he did looked stunning.

“I promise he’s friendlier than he looks.” He breathlessly held his stomach still amused at your first impression of his broody brother. “He’s tall, alone, and friendly if it helps.”

You thought for a moment, debating on your options: leave or sit with a handsome man in possibly awkward silence.

“I don’t mind being alone together.” You smiled more, giving into the curiosity of the man leaning against the railing.

You were a simple human and apparently the man in front of you was too when he ushered his brother over. A man much too large for the bar stool, but you got a good look at his full face.

The curls, defined dark eyebrows, a white streak. His face had definition, a particular beauty that differed from his brother. Not less beautiful, but you were more drawn to the rougher look.

You definitely made the right choice.

Before you had any time to say anything, the conspirator left to go mingle with another bunch of attendees. You watched him hop from one conversation to another, you didn’t know whether he knew them or he just met them like you had five seconds ago.

“I think social anxiety is scared of him.” You laughed in disbelief to your new companion.

“Trust me, you have no idea. I’ve seen him wear some of the most horrendous outfits in public, willingly. What’s worse is—I hate to admit it—but he can pull it off, in a horrifying way.” The stranger shook his head, no mortification in his voice, and you almost unconsciously lulled to the sound. “But he means well, uh, sorry he dragged you into whatever he’s planning. I could leave you alone, he tends to unintentionally be pushy.”

Oh? Broody, charming and thoughtful. Was the bar low or were you easily impressed? Maybe the husky voice is blurring the distinction.

“No, it’s okay, he seemed worried about both us being ‘very alone’ as he put it.” You spoke, glancing into the eyes of the man in front of you. Greenish blue. A wave of amusement washed over you and with the most serious expression you could muster, you decided to test the waters. “From one alone person to another, let’s be alone together.” You reached out your hand to introduce yourself.

He coyly smiled at your formal gesture, leaning in to mimic your movement. You were both leaning onto the glass table, close enough to see the slight scaring on his face. Faint enough to see them only if you were close enough, wanting to drag your thumb across them.

His warm hand engulfed yours. Calloused. A firm handshake.

“Jason, alone man, and been alone for twenty-one years.” Jason gave you the most breathtaking smile, never letting go of your hand. “I’m looking forward to this opportunity…alone, of course.”

You laughed, almost giggled from how charming this man was.

“It’s been twenty-three alone years and still counting.” You mischievously smirked, glad he joined in on your antics. “I’m glad to let you join the team. I expect great things from you.”

“And I hope to learn a lot from my superiors, I’ll be in your care.” Jason’s voice was so low at the end of his statement. It caught you off guard that you almost missed the way he held onto your hand just a tiny bit longer than you anticipated. So short that you felt like you imagined it.

The warmth still lingered on your hands after you let go.

You were so engrossed in Jason’s company and Jason only had the eyes to look at you, that neither of you could see the man, who schemed your interaction, was beaming from watching the connection spark.

…

That single handshake and nonchalant agreement that you shared with an unknown neighbor actually kept it’s promise. That evening, you found out that Jason lived on the same floor as you did, that his brother visited him a lot, and he took out the trash on Wednesdays.

He didn’t tell you the last one, but you found out the last bit of information by accident when you bumped into him on your way back from the trash room. You thought the evening you met Jason would be the first and last time you would see him, but your laziness prevented you from taking out the garbage on your designated day and you were graced with seeing his lopsided smile as you passed him in the hallway.

You were so giddy from the surprise and seeing Jason’s captivating smile, you tested your luck and took the trash out on the same day and time the following week.

You listened out in the hallway, trying to hear a door open, it was honestly crazy behavior, but you continued your slow pace, but with no tall alone man in sight and a defeated sigh, you walked to the trash room with no Jason by your side and swung the door open.

Like a beam of light cascading over you, the man in question was standing in front of you, opening the trash shoot. You never thought a man in a trash room would be sexy, but with his shirt tightly straining on his body, a flushed face, and his muscles eye level with you, anything was possible.

May whoever told this gorgeous man to live at this apartment complex eat delicious meals, have working phone chargers, and a lifetime of happiness.

Somewhere off in the far distance, Dick sneezed.

You almost forgot the reason you were in the trash room after you set your eyes on Jason’s post-workout state. He kept the shoot open for you and with unsteady steps you threw your trash bag to disappear to the unknown. You were trying to not trip up with Jason’s defined arm holding the handle open and the close proximity of his chest to your face.

Maybe you need to go on a run. Why were you acting like this right now?

“Hey, neighbor.” Jason casually spoke to you. His voice felt airy, probably winding down from the exercise. “You come around here often?”

You cleared your mind from any thoughts, the trash room was not the place to start flirting, but what were you supposed to do when Jason started it? Or what you assumed to be flirtatious conversation.

“Nah, I’m new to town.” You glanced over to him, leaning your neck back to grasp his full height. Jason hadn’t missed the movement, combing your collarbone with his gaze. “But, I might stay a while.” You melodically spoke.

Before your stare and voice settled in the air, you stepped to the side to add a little distance between the two of you. Pulling away from the tension.

“Just so I can continue my alone things.” You explained trying to smoothen the mood with a playful tone.

Jason stayed quiet like he was contemplating something in his mind. Then he let the trash shoot close and with small steps the both of you walked out into the hallway.

“What alone things do you have planned tomorrow?” Jason nonchalantly asked, so casually you almost thought you heard wrong.

“Uh, work in the morning, but nothing planned for the evening, I wanted to try out a new cookie recipe.”

“Do you wanna come over to my place—I wanted to cook something for dinner, but it just hasn’t worked out yet. Maybe you can bring those cookies?” Jason didn’t look at you, suddenly interested in the pure white walls of the hallway. He rubbed the back of his neck with his hand.

You were stunned. How was such a beautiful man asking you to come over to his place with the promise of him cooking you dinner and all you had to do was bring your shitty cookies?

“I want to warn you that my cookies aren’t award worthy. I just follow the recipe, they’re nothing special.” You wanted to ensure that Jason was really inviting you over.

“Then I can’t wait to try your ‘nothing special’ cookies.” He reassured.

…

You spent the entire afternoon making sure your measurements were precise, not a lump of flour above the rim of the measuring utensils you haven’t brought out in a while. Usually you winged the ingredients, not really worried about the quality too much since it was just you.

But now you wanted to cry.

How did you properly fold ingredients, were you whisking right, maybe you should’ve got the too expensive butter from the store?

It took three full hours to prep, bake, and try your hand at cutely packaging the cookies. It took four attempts to arrange the cookies in a way that didn’t make you want to cancel the dinner.

But after a few pep talks in the mirror and reassuring yourself that this was a hang out and not a date, then you were able to walk over to his unit number.

You hesitantly knocked on the door, five minutes after seven because you would torture yourself thinking about arriving right on the dot before you fell asleep tonight and every night after.

Your worries left your mind when you saw Jason open the door in an apron.

“You’re just in time, I’m ready to plate everything.” He beamed.

Your heart might not be able to survive tonight. But it was just dinner.

You awkwardly handed Jason your tin of homemade cookies. You tried to limit your snooping around his apartment when he told you to wait for him to get the drinks, but curiosity was coursing through you once you realized that you were being invited into a part of Jason’s life and home.

You were no longer going to be strangers. You didn’t know if this qualified to make you friends, but you knew you were two people about to eat dinner together. A dinner he made and cookies you made as thanks.

Once you were ready to eat, you stared at your plate filled with spices, fresh veggies, a meticulously cooked entrée and a…homemade lemonade? You stared up at Jason, watching you look at his food.

“I feel like bringing you cookies isn’t enough.” Although you felt guilty, you took a bite because you didn’t want to look at one more second of Jason’s shining eyes.

You could only sigh, which made Jason worry.

“I think I’m going to name my children after you.”

Jason chuckled at your exaggeration.

“I’d be honored.”

The rest of the meal was relaxing. You didn’t have to force yourself around Jason. Your conversation flowed easily and you were interested in learning about the man you met on the balcony.

…

After many trips to the other side of the apartment building and a couple of deep cleanings of your apartment, you got accustomed to having Jason walk around your kitchen, rummaging the cabinets and organizing your spices the way he likes it.

One shared meal after another. Sometimes several times a week or spaced out further when work got busy. It was nice to look forward to a meal with Jason.

Now you had text messages from him on your phone, a designated mug for him, and a couple of his snacks that he wanted you to try.

You traded recipes. Jason gave you his favorites and you mainly just gave him ones you were curious about, not very fond of your kitchen.

After several failed attempts at convincing him that it was your kitchen that was the problem and not your ability to cook, he came over more to prove you wrong.

Now you sat at your kitchen island to watch him concentrate on mixing an assortment of spices and herbs while you memorized as much of his face and hands as possible. The TV was on, but you had no interest in whatever movie played.

“I have a confession to make.” You sadly looked at Jason.

He glanced over from the pan on the stove to your face. Confusion in his eyes from your sudden change in tone.

“I actually don’t really like cookies.” You threw your hands up in a guilty pose. “Now it’s eating me inside that I had to give those to you when I first came over to your place.”

Jason hummed and tilted his head with one of his eyebrows raised in a teasing manner.

“So, the guilt finally got to you, huh?” He grinned moving his attention back to the food cooking in front of him. His nonchalant voice resonating around you.

“I can’t sleep at night anymore.” You exaggerated, walking a little closer to his side. “Well, once you became my personal chef I realized I had to make it up to you.” You could smell the food better now that you were standing next to Jason.

“I can see the guilt in your eyes.” He flatly said watching you eyeing the food.

“We always eat when we hang out and I can make simple foods, but if I can follow a recipe I was going to suggest if I should cook something, but you are also here to prove me wrong that my kitchen isn’t cursed. Which it is by the way—”

“Your kitchen is not cursed.” He warmly scolded you. “I’ll come over everyday to prove it if I have to.”

You always had to reset your brain when he used that tone with you. It just felt too…sincere. Too intimate.

You wanted him to come over everyday. You took a breath.

“I make more money than when I was still in college, but I don’t think I can afford that many grocery bills.” You teased him. “Why do you think I go over to your place?”

You wanted to evade any serious topics and humor was the best at evading. You were good at avoidance.

“So, I’m a free pantry to you?” His eyebrows rose, questioning you. “I knew you were using me!” He faked a flabbergasted voice like he just heard his life-long partner declare they were cheating on him for months.

He turned off the stove, covering the pan with the lid and turning to face you.

“I didn’t mean to, it just sort of happened.” You gave him your best dejected look. “I promise I’ll pick up more shifts to help restock your fridge, but let me just taste your homemade ravioli one last time.” You begged as he moved closer to you, closing you in with the kitchen island behind your back.

His height and broad shoulders easily caved you in. You gulped watching his face lean down and inch closer.

“If I can’t trust you with my fridge, you don’t deserve my ravioli.” He lowered his voice, gazing down at you with a look that made you breathless. You couldn’t move with the counter behind you and Jason hovering dangerously close to you. “But, you can make it up to me.” He brought his thumb to your chin, barely a wisp of touch.

“How?” You stammered, wondering if the bit was still going.

“Let’s go to the farmer’s market tomorrow.” His hand moved from your face to the edge of the counter, close enough to touch your side and his voice returning to normal, but he didn’t pull away.

“Okay, uh, I’m off tomorrow.” You stared, darting your eyes between Jason’s eyes. Trying to adjust to the tension that was radiating off of him.

“Good, foods ready.” Jason pulled away, moving to the cabinet to grab your glass plates. He was too familiar with the layout of your kitchen.

That night you quickly learned how easy Jason was able to turn the tables. Your racing heart and shallow breathing were the only evidence of it ever happening.

…

The heat beat down on you. Of all days for Gotham to finally clear it’s clouds, it chose today.

Although you weren’t fond of the warm air, you liked watching all the colorful tents, the food on display, and seeing the various local products. Everything looked intricately cared for and it brought a proud feeling to contribute to the locals.

“Bags?” Jason asked, going through his mental checklist.

“Check.” You raised the reusable grocery bags in your hands.

“Hats?”

“Check.” You nudged the baseball cap on your head.

“Money?” Jason smirked.

You grabbed onto Jason’s bicep. Giving it a gentle squeeze.

“Check.” You grinned up at Jason looking at the placement of your hand. “Now let’s go!” You gleefully led him to the first tent with your hand still on him.

You had no idea how you ended up carrying all the bags, but you were trying to ease your mind that this could be considered a date. Jason didn’t call it that and you never asked to clarify, but you couldn’t help it itching at your brain.

You didn’t want to label anything, out of respect for Jason and what he wanted, but you noticed he had started to touch you more and the contact makes you giddy that you had to put all of your focus on making sure you don’t drop his produce.

You stood by Jason, looking at various jars of loose leaf tea. He was smelling all the aromas, helping to move the jars to your nose, so you could smell them too. He insisted on helping you since you refused to give him a bag, but you also didn’t have a free hand to grab the jar.

After a couple more sniff tests, he settled on a jar of prickly pear tea, a lemon-ginger flavor, and he was contemplating on some earl grey cookies. You were watching him, entranced by his concentration. His brows lowered, a small line appearing between his brows. You could see more of his face with a cap on, no messy curls on his forehead and his side profile was really something.

You broke out of your trance when he offered you a piece of the earl-grey cookie, holding it in front of your mouth.

“They’re free samples, try it.” He looked at you, waiting patiently. “I know you don’t like cookies, but these are made with the tea sold here. I saw all the tea you keep in your pantry, so I think you would like it.”

In your lost state at this man in front of you, that could’ve sounded like a proposal to you at that point.

You inched forward, opening your mouth for the cookie. You hesitated at the intimacy, but how could you tell that face ‘no.’ Staring at the small piece of cookie, baked a quarter of the original size they sold, you also saw all the scars that littered Jason’s hands. Many healed over, but you could see the faded lines.

You dangerously wanted to kiss each one.

You grabbed the piece in your mouth, but you didn’t realize that you accidentally touched Jason’s finger with your lip.

You quickly glanced at Jason, but his eyes were glossed over. His attention focused on your mouth.

What a sight.

You chewed and hummed. They were good. Jason cleared his throat at your approval.

“I’ll get a bag and the tea. I’ll be back. You can put the bags down for a bit because there’s a small line.” He quickly turned around, a small tinge of redness left on his ears with his head turned away from you.

You watched his back walk away, then settled the bags down to give your arms a break.

“Excuse me, I just wanted to tell you that you two are adorable.” A honeyed voice spoke trying to grab your attention.

Your head whipped back to the table of teas. An older lady restocking the various collection had a mischievous look in her eye. You hadn’t noticed her there at all.

“The way your boyfriend looks at you, I haven’t seen a look like that since my husband passed many years ago.” The lady gushed.

“Wha, no, I—“ You stammered, trying to clear up the confusion, but your flustered face must’ve amused the woman.

“That made my day, so I wanted to give you this lemon bar we just started selling. Go on, take it and share it with him.” She pressured you to take the free treat. You were too speechless to try to refuse it and insist that you pay before she placed it in your hand herself and she walked off to help another customer wanting a sample.

Your face felt hot and you hoped it cleared before Jason came back, but before you could fan the redness away he appeared next to you with his purchase.

“Hey, you okay? Where’d you get that lemon—”

“Let’s get some lunch!” You grabbed the bags and nudged him to the food trucks lining the edge of the market, trying to hide your face with your hat and leaving the comments from the woman behind.

…

“Wow, this might be the best empanada I’ve ever had.” You chomped at your lunch.

Jason found a waffle place and settled on a berry topping. It was wrapped perfectly to fit in his hands.

You sat across from Jason at an outdoor table with an umbrella to shield you from the sun, sitting away from the rush of people lining up to also eat. The midday lunch rush got to you and you wanted to have a bit of privacy before you went back home.

“How long have you known about this place?” You asked Jason, a slight breeze grazing your face. Watching a kid nudging his dad for a piece of banana bread he found on one of the vendor’s tables.

“Last year? It was recent, but I’ve heard it’s been around for a while. Maybe over five years?” Jason took a bite of his waffle.

“I wish I had found this during my university years. This is a bit out of the way of my walk route, but it would’ve been awesome to browse with my friend.” You saw the boy you were watching earlier smiling wide as he held his dad’s hand and the banana loaf as big as his head. You smiled at the interaction.

“But I probably would’ve sent my friend into shock.” You continued, the boy and his dad disappearing into the crowd. “I wasn’t very social during my university years.” You glanced at Jason, his waffle gone and he was neatly folding the wrapper.

“My friend would joke that I would only meet someone if they magically met me at home. Like that was the only way I could score a date.” You pitifully joked at the old memory. “Sounds absurd doesn’t it, but she wasn’t wrong—“

You saw a shift in Jason’s eyes. He had an oddly serious look, it stopped you from talking and you sat up straighter, wondering what he was thinking about.

You waited, watching him internally fight with whatever he wanted to say.

“That’s not true.” He hesitated. “You’re funny, you’re able to connect with others, you’re a great listener, and you’re honest. You don’t have the heart to be mean to others and your facial expressions are adorable.” His voice rose the longer he defended you. His serious expression further amplified with his furrowed eyebrows. A part of his face obscured by his cap, but you felt the raw emotion emanating from him.

“Anyone would be enamored with you, even if they met you in the hallway or walking down the street.” He puffed, crushing the waffle paper on the table.

You were surprised, glancing over at Jason, watching him get this frustrated. You realized you’ve never seen him this…emotional and he refused to look at you.

The sudden development and his clear thoughts about you stunned you. You joked with Jason how alone you both were, it even brought you together thanks to his brother, but you didn’t really know how alone he truly was. You don’t think he really understood how lonely you were too.

You enjoyed your shared meals, you craved his time and attention.

You got so used to his presence that the days you didn’t see him, you felt like you were dreaming. Waiting to wake up when you heard that familiar knock on your door.

Your heart raced and you hoped he cherished your time together like you did.

You didn’t want to assume his witty personality as being flirtatious, you didn’t want to misunderstand any of his intentions because he was funny, charming, and awkward in ways that you just wanted to grab his face and protect him.

You didn’t particularly need Jason as your person, that felt too selfish, but you also wanted to be somebody to him. Either next to him or from a distance.

A friend, a companion, a lover. The label didn’t really matter to you because you were open to any role. A lover wasn’t more significant than a friend would be. They both had the same foundation, to care for someone unconditionally.

You convinced yourself that you were happy alone, but not until recently you realized you weren’t living. You were asleep in the routine of life.

And when Jason entered your life, you felt like you woke up for the first time.

Like he was the only one who could wake you up.

All you knew was that you wanted to be there. Through his pain, his suffering, his happiest moments, his accomplishments, his anger. To be his person.

To also help him wake up.

Your silent contemplation made Jason panic.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to get worked up—“

“I think apartment community events count.” You softly whispered, indecisive of whether you wanted him to hear you or not.

“What—“

“And secret meetings in the trash room too.” Your voice meek.

You were shaking, too tense to look at his reaction to your words.

“Despite what she told me, I still managed to meet you. And I was able to have some of the best meals. I’ve never laughed as hard as I have when we joked. I’m able to try new things.” You raised your head, overwhelmed by your feelings, but you hoped to convey yourself properly to Jason. “I’ve never felt so comfortable and safe with anyone else.”

Jason looked at you wide eyed and speechless, his mouth slightly agape. You took the disbelief as a sign to continue.

“I’m able to be all those things that you said because I’m with you.” Your voice filled with more resolve the more concrete your feelings felt, the more sure you became. You squeezed your eyebrows together, complete sincerity in your gaze, your heart filled with so much emotion.

But your eyebrows relaxed once you saw Jason’s face turn red. His ears a crimson shade. Before you could engrave it in your memory, he tilted his head down, covering his face with the front of his baseball cap.

“Wait, wait, wait—I didn’t expect this.” Jason rubbed a hand down his face, but the redness contrasted the skin of his hand. “You were so shy every time I tried to push the boundaries between us, but now your directly confessing everything at once.”

He stopped rubbing his face and rested his hand on the table. Meeting your gaze, a tint of red still on his skin but not as deep as before.

“I’ve been trying to get closer to you. I’ve been hoping to run into you since we first talked on the balcony. When we met in the trash room, I purposely tried to meet you again. I’ve looked forward to every meal I’ve cooked for you and although I haven’t been clear about my feelings, I didn’t want to pressure or rush you.” Jason took a breath, closing his eyes for a moment.

When they opened again, his eyes were completely focused on you.

“I want us to be more than friends…I want to be able to come over when I miss you, fold laundry together, buy you things when they remind me of you, I want you to call me when you need car maintenance.” He kept his eyes trained on you, but his voice faltered. “I want to hold your hand and to kiss you. I want us to go on dates.”

You raised your hand to the table, placing your hand over Jason’s, but he quickly flipped your hands so he was holding yours a little more firmly.

“I want to know if you snore while you sleep, to have your things at my place, so I see you in every inch of my life. I want you to know how much I’ve fallen for you.”

“I want that too.” Your voice trembled. “I’ve been wanting to hold your hand while we walked today and I want you to come over more often.” You choked as Jason leaned in to caress your face with his hand. A sickening sweet touch that you never knew you would get to feel. You cupped your hand over his.

“I’m so happy. I’ve been wanting to tell you for a while.” Jason whispered to you, his voice so honey sweet.

You looked up to him. A gentle gaze reflecting back.

“I probably look like a mess right now.” You shakily laughed.

“Of course not, you’re breathtaking, sweetheart.” Jason rubbed a thumb on your cheek, completely enamored by you.

“As much as I would love to hear you continue, I’m worried about the stuff you bought and this heat.” You tried to focus, but the smooth touch of Jason was difficult to ignore.

“Yeah, we probably need to make our way back.”

Despite his words, he didn’t move. He lingered on your face a while longer before he looked at all the bags he accumulated this morning.

“Will you let me help you carry some of the bags?” He asked. “I also want to hold your hand on the way back.”

You beamed at him. Reaching for his hand as you stood up.

…

Your walk back was refreshing.

You were exhausted from the intense flux of emotions you released, but Jason’s grip on your hand stabilized you.

You couldn’t stop smiling, the heat no longer bothering you. You swung your interlaced hands to the motion of your steps and Jason let you do what you wanted as long as you still held on.

When you got to the entrance of your apartment building, you were graced with the AC hitting you. Your hair would definitely be messed up from the sweat and your cap.

You waited in front of the elevator doors as it descended from the last person that used it. The lobby was empty, except from the usual leasing office workers inhabiting the space, but it was just you and Jason off to the side.

As you glanced around, making sure the employees were occupied, you used your grip on Jason’s hand to pull him down enough for you to kiss his cheek. A little awkward with your cap in the way, but you were able to surprise Jason.

He stayed hunched forward, shifting his face to look at you closely and digest what you did.

Ding. The elevator doors opened and you pulled Jason in the elevator.

You felt accomplished as you pushed the button to your floor. When you moved back to Jason’s side, you looked up to him, but he grabbed your face.

His hand pushed your cap up, so he could lean in and kiss you. His hat also moving up at the angle he was in.

You closed your eyes, disoriented at the feeling and because Jason completely blocked your view of the elevator, so you only heard the doors close.

Lost in the feeling and the movement of his lips, you dropped the bags in your hand to grab at Jason’s sleeve, wanting to grasp at something.

You’ve never felt so desperate to get Jason even closer and he must have understood or he craved it more because he pushed you back against the elevator wall. You felt the cold metal against your back and you gasped.

Jason devoured the sound, motivating him to hold your waist, but it wasn’t enough for him. He crouched a little lower to grasp you behind your legs to lift you fully off the ground, inching your body up, higher and more level with his face.

The angle changed and you easily wrapped your arms around his neck while simultaneously wrapping your legs around his waist. The moment intensifying as you pulled at his hair below his hat and you swallowed the low groan that left his mouth. You were drawn to the deep sound and the feeling of the hum you felt on your mouth.

You were practically flush against his body and you were down to your last few breaths, but you didn’t want to pull your face away from Jason.

You nipped at his lower lip and he lifted his hands to cup the sides of your face, digging his fingers into your sweaty hair and rubbing the back of your ears. You opened your mouth wanting to feel more of him when you heard someone loudly clear their throat.

You pulled away, shoving Jason by his shoulders as he whipped his head to see where the voice came from. You fell to your feet trying to lean against the wall with the sudden motion, hair a mess with your cap lopsided as you looked past Jason to see Dick standing there with a hand on his waist and the other holding the elevator door open. He didn’t look at the two of you directly, more like a lost look to the side.

You breathlessly adjusted your cap as you frantically smoothed out your shirt.

Jason pulled his cap down as he sighed then redirected his attention to you, gently reaching out to you to smooth out some of your hair and help you stand up straighter. Then he grabbed the bags you both dropped on the floor as he turned around to face his brother.

“I didn’t know you were coming over. You should’ve texted.” Jason walked past his brother, annoyance laced in his voice.

“I did.” Dick replied. He looked at you then followed after Jason. “But it seems you were a little occupied.” Amusement coating his voice and visible in the way he walked.

“I see you’re getting to know your neighbors very well.” Dick teased, a giant grin on his face. “I’m glad.”

What a way to meet Jason’s brother again after all this time. You wanted the floor to open up and swallow you away from the lack of awareness you had to make out with Jason in public.

You couldn’t decide if it was worse that a stranger could’ve saw you or that Dick was the one who did.

“Yeah, yeah, come inside.” Jason unlocked the door to his apartment. You nervously followed after the two.

“No seriously, I’m glad you two continued to see each other.” A genuine comment from Dick. “I’ve never seen you so comfortable with someone, Jaybird.”

A small hum from Jason as he set the bags down onto the counter.

With no indication that he wanted to speak further, you decided to talk.

“I’m sorry we’re meeting again like this. I promise I’m usually a better influence.” Hopefully your lighthearted tone would give off a better impression than the one on the elevator.

“Ha! I know you are because,” Dick moved in closer, lowering his voice. “This is the most behaved I’ve seen Jason in months.”

“Alright, enough, dickwa—Dick,” Jason cleared his throat. “But we just got back and I want to shower. It was too damn hot today.”

“Oh, I bet it was—“

“Thank you! Never come by again. See you. Good Night.” Jason raised his voice, shoving his brother out the door.

“No, please, I swear I’m done!” Dick pleaded as he was trying to hang onto the door frame, but Jason closed the door before he could start to beg.

“Are you sure he’ll be alright?” You questioned Jason.

He didn’t bother to answer your question as he closed the space between you and wrapped his arms around you, resting his forehead on your shoulder and letting his hands intertwine around your waist, falling onto your lower back.

Jason signed into your shirt. The feeling slightly tickling you.

“I wasn’t done earlier.” He whispered against you. “Then that dickhead had to interrupt.”

You laughed, loving the pouty sound of his voice.

You embraced him back, leaning your head against his.

“I think the elevator interrupted you.” You rubbed his back in soothing circles.

You closed your eyes for a moment, letting a silence fall in Jason’s apartment before your curiosity got to you.

“Jaybird?”

“It’s a nickname.”

“It’s cute.”

“Enough about him, we need to put away all the stuff we bought.” Jason lifted his head to sullenly look at the numerous bags.

“That reminds me.” You let go of him to dig around the bags, trying to find your earlier gift. “I was told to share this with you by an older woman who thought my boyfriend was adorable.”

Jason shifted behind you. Closing his hands on the edges of the counter, both of his arms on your sides. Once you found the lemon bar, you turned your body, careful to lean against the counter with Jason’s body still in front of you, around you practically.

“It’s a new product. She said I could have it for making her day, but I have to thank you because we wouldn’t have gotten it without you.”

You opened the wrapper, breaking a piece off to feed to Jason.

“How does it taste?”

Jason lingered. You anticipated what he thought, but he leaned forward to kiss you. You held onto the lemon bar, but lowered it the more heated your kiss became. The tangy taste invading your mouth.

“Amazing.”

[augustjustice]

When Steve’s parents finally come back to Hawkins several months after the end of the end, they cut Steve off fairly quickly. 

There have been rumors, you see, from the few of their friends still left in Hawkins. About the company Steve keeps, galivanting all over town with that Satan-worshipping murderer Munson. And when they finally arrive back at their large, cold house and Munson’s the one who answers the door, dressed in nothing but a pair of boxers and one of Steve’s old basketball t-shirts? Well, what their son has really been up to becomes all too clear to them, and, careful not to make a scene that the neighbors will hear, they find Steve and tell him that he’s out in no uncertain terms. 

Not wanting either of them to get caught in the cross-fires of his dad’s anger, Steve grabs as many of his belongings as he can and goes without much of a fight, at Eddie’s insistence following his van in the Beemer all the way back to the Munson trailer. 

Steve moves in with Eddie and Wayne. It isn’t even really a conversation; Eddie just takes it as a given fact, and Steve feels compelled to argue, but every time he starts Eddie cuts him off with a reminder that they’ve practically been living together anyway, shuffling back and forth between the trailer and Steve’s big empty house.  “What, big boy, you gonna rebuff my advances now?” Eddie asks, teasing but laying on just a subtle enough guilt trip he knows Steve won’t be able to say no. He’s a pushover that way, always caves to the people he cares about. Eddie can’t help but love that about him. 

They don’t leave Hawkins. It’s hell, sometimes, what with Eddie’s reputation, and the whisperings now that Steve no longer lives in the big Harrington house. But they saved this town from hell itself, and that makes them both develop a certain stubbornness about it. Plus, the kids are still in school, and there’s an unspoken certainty that Steve won’t leave until they do, even with the threat over and the Upside Down gone.

But the general atmosphere makes finding gainful employment hard. Eddie still has a few connections at the shop in town, Thacher Tire, with the folks who weren’t susceptible to the things other people said about Eddie to start with. They recommend him to the guys at a garage a few towns over about thirty minutes away. Not completely outside the scope of rural Indiana gossip, but distant enough most people don’t recognize Eddie right away, don’t put the pieces together between his name and the boy who was plastered all over the six o’clock news. 

Steve, without making any mention of it, had quietly applied to Indiana Tech, certain he wouldn’t get in. 

By some miracle, he’s almost certain, he does, enrolled with a declared major in elementary education. Steve hasn’t quite settled on what path he wants to take, mulling over teaching as well as guidance counseling, but it’s a start. It’s something. He transfers his home campus to the same one where Eddie’s new shop is and quits his job at Family Video, working there agonizing with Robin off at college.  

Eddie picks him up off the ground and spins him around when he tells him, despite Steve’s laughing protests.

“I knew you could do it!” Eddie crows, triumphant.

“You did not, you didn’t even know I applied,” Steve argues, still laughing. 

“Oh, didn’t I tell you, Stevie? I’m secretly a telepath,” Eddie taps the side of his head, grin wide and mischievous. “Can’t keep secrets out of this steel trap, I know everything.”

It’s Steve’s turn to tackle him in a playful hug, wrestling a minute before he pulls out his “winning move”: tugging Eddie by his belt loops into a kiss. 

“It’s not even like it’s that big a deal,” Steve says once they’ve parted, shrugging. “Since it’s only part-time for now.”  

He leaves the reasons why unsaid, but Eddie hears them loud and clear, anyway.

“Me and Wayne will chip in,” Eddie assures him. 

“You don’t--that’s not--” Steve starts to argue, cut off when Eddie presses a finger against his lips. 

“Can’t get rid of us now, Stevie boy. You’re family, now. Which means we’re in this together, right? Isn’t that what you always tell me?”

Steve huffs, crossing his arms over his chest. “I really hate it when you use my own arguments against me, Eds.” 

Eddie grins, all-teeth. “I know.” 

Steve opens his mouth again, and Eddie can sense the lingering guilt and shame in the line of his shoulders, the way he hunches in on himself as he no doubt to mounts another argument, trying to discourage Eddie further. That won’t do.

“Now you know how it felt,” Eddie cuts in gently, “when you used to offer to pay for shit all the time.”

“That was different,” Steve tries to insist. 

“Oh, yeah?” Eddie cocks an eyebrow at him in challenge. “Different how?”

Without missing a beat, Steve replies, a bit of a grin starting to curl at the corners of his mouth, “Because, technically, I was stealing that money from my dad.” 

Eddie can’t help but let out a bark of helpless laughter, any tension breaking.

So Steve accepts the “this is what we’re here for” argument, especially once Eddie makes clear Wayne won’t have it any other way, but he can’t quite convince Steve to bump up his status to full-time, not yet. Steve won’t let the Munsons pay his full way, is insistent he nail down a job, too, so they compromise with what they’ve got. 

Steve looks for a job in downtown, not far from the school and Eddie’s work. There’s a beauty salon on one corner hiring and Steve figures what the hell? He hasn’t gone to cosmetology school, but he knows hair, and he’s gotten decent at doing Robin, Max, and El’s nails at sleepovers. Plus, he’s willing to learn, and that has to count for something. 

His niche hair care product knowledge is enough to get him the job on the spot with the promise that he can apprentice a bit, learning as he goes.

Though it’s only part-time, the job turns out to be a perfect fit. Not only has he got the skills, but he’s friendly with a good personality and doesn’t mind indulging in a little small town gossip when it isn’t about him and his boyfriend. The clients quickly grow to love him, many starting to ask for him by name.

Steve and Eddie commute together, trading off who drives and saving on the gas money. The drive isn’t so far that they can’t drop Dustin and Max off at school on their way to the garage and campus respectively. (”At least until they get their licenses,” Eddie teases. “God, don’t remind me.” The mournful way Steve buries his face in his hands makes Eddie cackle.)

Their schedules keep things pretty hectic. They grab food together at the diner on main street during Steve’s free period and Eddie’s lunch hour. On the days Steve has night classes, Eddie hangs around the college library, using his boyfriend’s student ID to check out a few thick fantasy novels to keep him busy. The ladies at the salon all know Eddie by name from the times he’s been the one driving and picked Steve up, asking after Wayne when he sticks around to chat for a few minutes while Steve finishes up. When Steve has day classes and is free by early afternoon, he does his homework on the old leather couch in the garage’s lobby while he waits for Eddie to get off work. Sometimes Eddie finds him dozing off on the sofa. Sometimes Steve finds Eddie doing the same at a library table. 

For the sake of safety, they’re discreet enough in public most people don’t catch on; Steve suppresses a snort every time one of Eddie’s work buddies has called Steve his “roommate.”

“Yeah, I’m some roommate,” Steve says drily later, when they’re alternating making out in the back of the van and splitting a joint between them.

“Best roommate I ever had, sweetheart,” Eddie leans in and catches Steve’s bottom lip between his teeth. 

A few folks have cottoned on, however. One of the other mechanics is an old friend of Wayne’s from the war and their post-war protest days, and shares Eddie’s uncle’s stoic open-mindedness, asking after Eddie’s “fella.” The owner of the salon calls Eddie Steve’s “special friend” with a twinkling sort of knowingness, but she means well enough. 

But, there’s other types of knowingness, too. Frankie, the middle-aged woman at the garage who gives the boys a nod with a twinkle in her eye on her way out when she catches Eddie practically throwing himself into Steve’s arms in the parking lot. Serenity, the punk stylist with multi-colored hair and piercings down her ear that mentions her own roommate to Steve with a Cheshire cat smile. Teddy, the shy 17 year-old taking classes while he’s still in high school with an eye on the cosmetology school who asks Steve if he can put in a good word for him at the salon. 

“Did Robin tell you about that club they’ve got up at Emerson?” Steve asks one night over their dinner of cheeseburgers and fries. “The...GLA?” 

“GSA,” Eddie corrects, “yeah, she told me. Gay-Straight Alliance, right? What about it?”

Steve hums, thoughtful. 

“Maybe I’ll try to start one, next year. At Tech.” 

There’s a delicate anxiety that ripples in the air between them, but there’s excitement, too, at the idea.

Eddie’s smile widens. 

“That’s a great idea, Stevie.”  

Friday nights are reserved for Corroded Coffin concerts, the boys rushing from work to the Hideout to make it in time for Eddie’s gig. The crowd is still modest, but growing, Eddie’s reputation, both tainted and reformed, a bolster that drew people in. “I mean, yeah, sure, but it’s the talent that got them to stay. Seriously, who could look away when Eddie’s the front man?” Steve is quick to insist whenever someone brings it up, hair teased and wearing his own band shirt proudly. By Saturday afternoon, the kids are all piled in around the coffee table for Eddie’s latest campaign, Steve setting out snacks and crowding around the table with them to watch, keeping up a commentary of snarky or confused asides just to rile Mike up. On Sundays, Steve cuts coupons at the Munson family dinner table, glasses he realized he needed a few weeks in to trying to make out the class blackboards slipping down his nose. 

In between, he studies for long hours on the couch, determined not to mess things up this time. When he gets too tired, the words starting to blur on the page and his frustration becoming visible, Eddie will take the textbook from his hand and read it out loud to him, Steve tucked up contentedly against his boyfriend’s side. 

Robin calls twice a week, spending at least an hour on the phone with Steve as she gives him the latest rundown on college life and how she and Nancy are faring. The rare times they all manage to be home at the same time, Steve and Eddie cook together, sharing a family meal with Wayne. They go to every one of Lucas’s basketball games they can manage, and Eddie has even made the special trip back to Hawkins to go alone when Steve can’t make it due to night school. His half butchered attempt to recount what happened afterwards always makes Steve giggle. 

The following Christmas, Eddie buys Steve a pastel pink polo shirt he knows cost too much. Steve decides it’s the best piece of clothing he’s ever gotten, more aware of its worth than he had been of anything else hanging in his closet before. Eddie can barely get him to wear a coat over it even though it’s snowing outside. 

They come together, like disparate pieces of a puzzle, to form this mosaic of a life they’ve built for themselves. 

Steve thinks about it, one morning, as he watches Eddie pouring coffee into Steve’s ‘World’s Greatest Mom’ mug and Eddie’s own personal favorite, the one with the rainbow on the front. About picket fences and cross-country RV road trips with a gaggle of kids in the back. 

This isn’t that, exactly. Not the life Steve had pictured for himself, clinging on desperately to a dream that comforted him when the world seemed dark. Certainly not the life his parents’ had wanted for him, if anything the exact opposite.

Maybe he’ll have the fantasy someday. Not the typical suburban nuclear family version of it, sure, but a version all his own. 

And maybe he won’t. Steve wouldn’t trade it for this, anyway, even a second of it.

Because, for once, in his life, he’s happy. Tired, sure, and always unbelievably busy, but incandescently happy.

When Eddie turns and places Steve’s coffee in front of him, black with two sugars just the way Steve likes it, he catches Steve’s gaze. His eyebrows draw together at Steve’s expression, smile confused. 

“What’re you staring at, big boy?” Eddie wipes at the corner of his mouth. “I got drool on my face or something?”

“Nothing,” Steve murmurs, still sleepy-eyed as he pulls Eddie down into a kiss, “just love you.”

“Yeah?” Eddie exhales the word against his lips, breathless like he still doesn’t quite believe it. “I love you, too, baby.” 

Maybe they’ll move out of Hawkins, some day, when the kids finally graduate and scatter, follow Dustin to University of Chicago or wherever he ends up. Maybe they’ll take up an apartment near Nancy and Robin on the East Coast, or spend a summer with Jonathan and Argyle in San Fran, having a wild, queer time. 

But, those are thoughts for the far distant future. For now, they’re happy. Safe. Satisfied. 

Home.

[sealofarchives]

Can you create a headcanon for ROTTMNT’s Raph who is secretly in love with a female reader? She is an antisocial, hot-headed, and fearless woman who excels in combat and prefers to solve her problems with her fists. She embodies the typical ‘tough girl’ stereotype, and she has no idea that Raph has feelings for her

Headcanon: GN!Reader who fights like an absolute beast. And unaware of Raph's crush on them.

(Requested prompt but can be read with she/her pronouns.)

Warnings: A brief vomit mention

A/N: Heavily recommended to have “Crash Addiction from Yakuza 0” playing as background music for this (because this is what I thought of after seeing this request in my inbox lol)

You stood there with wide eyes at an alligator snapping turtle mutant. Who shyly asked if you needed some extra help carrying a few packages. While the bad guy in the background struggles carrying his injured lackeys to safety. (Heavily regretting picking a fight with you, near a place now scattered with pieces of broken motorcycles by the empty alleyway.)

You still glared at the turtle wearing a red bandana but, didn't want to waste more time for another fight.

"Just don't drop the merch! I'm on a tight schedule trying to deliver these figurines on time!"

As you said that, Raph almost dropped it. Causing you to let out a sigh while the turtle carefully stacked the small pile of fragile boxes in his arms.

Ever since that day, you became aware of him and his family.

Donnie very much keeps his distance. Especially after collecting some data of your past fights. The one that almost made him throw up was, a thief lucky to survive stab wounds above the stomach area. From you, utilizing a traffic cone connector snapped in half as a temporary dual-wield weapon.

No chuckling response was enough for Leo to know that. He needed to cool it with some jokes at your direction. Its one of the few times he'll be serious because he got tired of Raph being lovesick around you.

Mikey made some decent progress being your friend but, still carefully waits for the right timing to talk to you. Usually when you have a decent day or during laidback movie nights.

If you tag along during any of the night patrols, Raph is usually the one that patches you up.

- You sometimes do a double take because, at least one of the bandages near your wrist will be tied into a ribbon. (Mostly noticing it until you get back home)

The boy is very eager when you teach him some new fighting moves. However, it always devolves into absurd antics that spiral out of control.

- One of the few times, you had to swallow your pride and call Leo for help. Because the snapping turtle thought it would be a cool idea to impress you by lifting a nearby outdoor electric panel box. As a new object to throw at opponents. Nope, he passed out within 3 minutes.

"I mean that's not the first time he passed out.

"Like, he tried to lift a school bus that guarded a pet cat that's part praying mantis."

"At least two times before we parked the bus back in its place."

"..."

"A lot of thieves rarely scope out that place. Now that the cat is trained to guard Repo Mantis' junkyard."

"???"

Any accidental physical contact between you two will make that red bandana turn pink.

- You used to reply with an angry 'watch it!!!' but, with how many times he had a sincere sorry paired with the most gentle toothy smile. Its just a hum, too tired to get mad at him for that.

Bonus:

The mini scuffle he had with himself (namely mind raph and his angry counterpart) was enough for you to show some concern. Before you could ask if he was okay, the blurted words of a confession to his new feelings to you. Finally dented a crack to your tough persona attitude. Which immediately dropped your guard with you blushing at him. The big guy snapped out of it as both of you awkwardly stood there.

"Uhhh, how much did you hear?"

"A bit of everything but..."

"Your family will absolutely kill me if I just spat and toss away your feelings in the trash."

"And I have no intentions of doing so because..."

"I wish there were more guys who acted like you."

"Because I can finally take it easy and relax thanks to your kind nature..."

You gave a kiss on his forehead causing him to almost melt from the touch.

Two of the three brothers breathed a sigh of relief while restraining an annoyed Mikey who whispered.

("I still think a matchmaking date would have easily solved 'Raph having a crush on (Y/N)' situation...")

You shook your head but, still amused at the his brothers. Their company also grew on you. Brightening boring delivery days to eagerly visiting the graffiti filled lair.

[andmaybegayer]

Michael scope

Zeiss Jena Laboval ?3? I think, documentation for the Laboval series online starts and ends with the Laboval 4. By all accounts this is their upper mid range lab scope, with Amplival being the top of the line before you get to big scopes that have to be installed by a technician.

There's a large variety of Zeiss scopes that were manufacturered on this side of the iron curtain, as you can see this is an East German piece. Pretty good condition, scratchy condenser optics but the objectives and eyepiece seem to be in great nick, from a quick inspection, and that's what matters. Eyepieces are 10×'s, Objectives are a 3.2 semiplanar, a 10, a 40 planar (which I think will get a lot of use), and a 100 oil immersion. Pretty normal setup.

I don't have slides and slips yet so I can't do a proper mount, but this is pretty promising for just sliding a sheet of paper into the slide holder. Proper mounting will improve the focus plane immensely. 32× and 100× so far.

The illumination is off-centre and uneven but that's resolvable and anyway it might be fun to move to LED. I also want to build some top illumination brackets for opaque subjects.

I had like. A kiddies toy microscope growing up and I got as far as trying to make it do darkfield with pieces of cardboard, but never something this professional, binocular optics is such a big step up on its own.

The only real issue I've seen so far is that the stage Z axis is very sloppy, huge backlash. Everything has been stuffed with new grease recently so at least it moves smoothly, old scopes and old typewriters both have a tendency to seize if they're forgotten for more than a few months at a time.

I'll swing by the lake and pick up some algae and protist samples later, and I need to order slides and slips. Also I can print some darkfield and oblique illumination filters.

Probably not going to fuck too much with oil immersion, but who knows, also I'll keep an eye out for water immersion objectives.

I think that with an appropriate head replacement and some filter hacking I could get phase contrast microscopy up and running, probably scavenging some Amplival parts. I'd need to see. I can definitely get fluorescence microscopy working with an illumination upgrade. It would also be nice to gut the electronics and put in a simple battery powered illumination system I can charge over USB so I don't have to rely on wall power. Even the stock tungsten lighting is only 5W at 6V so that's easy to swing.

Objectives are DIN 45mm I think, and it sounds like many Eastern Bloc microscopes use standardized head mounts. I'll also be able to print a lot of parts for this, but I'll probably want to get some black filament for optical reasons.

First I want to do some protist sketches, I picked up a protists book at a used bookstore a while ago and it got me really hyped to do protist watching. This is definitely at some level me trying to replace macroscopic wildlife spotting in my life.

[billthedrake]

BIG DADDY (PART EIGHT)

It was a novel, fun vibe between me and my high school buddy Kevin. McConnell had flown down for a long New Year's weekend in Austin.

"Had to get out of the fucking cold," he growled in his Jersey accent when he called to tell me he was coming down. He asked if I wanted to come to the city and stay over for an old fashioned guy's weekend. I hesitated, because Cheryl was over 8 months along in her pregnancy, but she insisted I go have some fun.

Now that I was alone with Kevin in his hotel room, I was glad for guy's night in the city. There was still a naughty thrill to fooling around with my good friend, and I knew Kevin felt that times five.

"Can't believe I just got Brennan-fucked," he grinned, pleased with his new coined term as he lay back on the bad, watching my naked body as I rejoined him in the bed after taking a post-fuck piss. I half expected things would be weird between us now, but we just rode the thrill.

"You seemed to like it," I said as I slid back under the sheets, cozying up to Kevin's gym-toned body. Cocky, maybe, but also checking in with my buddy.

"I did," he said thoughtfully. "I tried bottoming a couple of times wasn't crazy about it. Leave it to Big Man Nick to make me love it."

"We shoulda done this back in high school," I said with a hearty laugh.

"Damn, man," Kevin sighed. I could tell he was battling some emotions, and I felt a little bad for teasing him. We kissed some, and I enjoyed feeling the cum-covered, sweaty torso of my friend as he felt up my muscle, before reaching down to grope my cock. "You think you got another in you, Brennan?" he asked, clearly getting worked up again.

"Like a kid with a new toy, huh?" I laughed.

"Pretty much, man... you got a beautiful cock, Nick."

I felt that said dick firm up to steel hardness in his grip. "You keep that up, buddy, and the second round is gonna come sooner rather than later."

Kevin grinned and let go of my dick, instead wrapping his arms around my waist and hoisting my body up onto his gym-toned body.

"Ooof, you got some strength buddy," I laughed.

My friend bit his lips playfully and nodded. "You don't know how many times I dreamed of us in this position back in high school."

"You crushing out on me, Big Guy?" I said, feeling nervous about what his answer would be.

"Hell yeah, I am Brennan," Kevin replied. "But it's cool. I know where I stand. I'm not gonna make demands on ya, ever, bud." He looked up in my eyes and I could feel his body relax, except for his cock which throbbed against my own crotch. "Listen, I've been holding out. The reason I'm down here is to scope out a place to live."

"For real?" I asked. It was the last thing I expected.

"For real," he said. "God Nick, you didn't tell me Austin was Jersey expensive," he laughed. "Even worse, maybe."

"It's a little better further out," I explained.

"Fuck that," Kevin said. "I've had my life on hold for too long living someplace I didn't want to live." My buddy seemed to be getting more contemplative. "I need something different. Dad was pissed when I told him I was quitting the business, but he'll get over it."

"Damn, McConnell," I hissed. "You really are moving."

"Oh yeah," he said. "I'm gonna fuck my way through all the Texas cowboys I can score. Make up for lost time."

"It's not really cowboy country here," I started to say.

"Don't spoil my fantasy," Kevin winked. "And cowboy or not, they sure grow 'em big down here."

I didn't have any objection there.

Kevin's hands were caressing my sides and his legs were spreading, letting me scoot in between them.

"You gonna fuck me again, Brennan?" he asked.

I nodded, getting horny again for sure. "Yeah, McConnell, I'm gonna fuck you again."

***

Come January Cheryl gave birth to our daughter. Iris Jessica Brennan. A healthy and happy baby. I was over the moon, and so proud of my wife for how great a mother she was.

I'd negotiated paternity time with Big Daddy when he promoted me to CFO. Mark ribbed me like hell for taking it, and truth was I still went in once a week and checked emails to delegate stuff that needed delegating. But R.C. Pool Supply would be fine, and some things were more important.

Unlike the Bryant men, I did my best to help out with everything. Not only the Dad stuff of setting up the nursery and babyproofing the hell out of our place, but waking up in the night to feed the baby, or cooking for Cheryl when she was too exhausted. I was glad to be there for both of them those three months.

But holy hell, those first months made the pregnancy dry spell of our sex life pale in comparison. Cheryl still wasn't ready for vaginal sex and her postpartum hormones made sure she wasn't up for anything else either.

"Sorry honey," she apologized one night as I held Iris as we sat on the couch. "I know we haven't had sex in a while... I'll make it up to you, promise."

I missed it, missed it a lot, but my schedule usually meant I could go over to Randy Slocum's before he went on shift. Sometimes it was a quick BJ stop while I ran errands, but often I'd have that cop strip down for a longer session in his bed. Maybe because I wasn't fucking Cheryl, I liked to do Officer Slocum nice and slow, missionary, lots of making out before I put my legs on my shoulders and fucked that rack of Texas beef.

I was even getting more romantic with Dan Bryant on our three-times a week gym meet ups. Forgoing the shower quickies and settling for some time in the back seat of his SUV.

"I remember what it's like with a newborn," my brother in law chuckled after he came up from a particularly intense blowjob, my cum deep in his stomach. "You doing OK, Nick?"

"Better now," I smiled. "You're the best, kid," I said in my best bedroom voice before leaning in to kiss Dan softly.

The ex-football player got a goofy, shy smile and said softly. "I just like making you feel good... after all you've done for me."

My dick stayed hard and twitched again as he said that. I don't know that I did anything for Dan other than fuck him. And be his friend. But I ran my hands up along his business casual polo shirt, feeling the hard muscle beneath, and some of that natural padding.

We kissed again, a little more excitedly.

"You gotta get back to the office?" I asked him, now eager to get off a second time. Like I say, I'd been pretty backed up.

Dan shook his head and smiled, those baby blues drawing me into another kiss.

There, in the back of his SUV, I took my time. Rimming Dan's hot, muscular ass, then giving an extra dose of spit on his pucker. That would be all the lube we'd get, but it did the trick. Dan Bryant was hungry for dick and he took me with some gentle coaxing. Pretty soon I was nailing him hard and fucking a load out of his balls.

"God, Nick!" he grunted as he did his best to catch his sperm in his hand. I gripped his hips tight and pounded my seed into him. He'd be going back to the office good and wet down there, for sure.

I was in a real fucking good mood as we uncoupled and wiped off with some spare napkins from the glove compartment before getting dressed again.

"So Nick..." Dan said, almost nervous to bring it up. "Courtney's baby... it's yours isn't it?"

Dan's wife was five months along now and showing. I promised Court I wouldn't tell Dan, but I also didn't want to lie to my brother-in-law and buddy. "What do you want me to say, Dan?" I replied.

He nodded. "If it's gonna be anyone else, I'm glad you're the father," he said softly, blushing as he admitted it.

"You're the father, buddy," I tried to assure him. "No matter whose seed it is."

He flashed me a game smile, like he was trying to convince himself of that. Then he shrugged. "I guess I'm not man enough for Courtney."

I could read all of his self doubts and troubles and anxieties in that moment. Never living up to Big Daddy. Never being honest with himself. He was trying to be honest now.

I patted him on the shoulder, squeezing that bulk affectionately. "You're all man, Dan. You just happen to like dick," I explained.

That made my brother-in-law smile, a real smile.

"But can I give you a bit of advice?"

"Yeah, Nick," Dan replied with a puppy-dog eagerness.

"Courtney... well, you don't need me to say this, but your wife, she's the kind of woman... well, you need to give her a lot of attention, Dan. Even if you have to think of me when you're fucking her. If you don't, she'll get that attention from other men."

"I can do that, Nick," Dan said, surprisingly chipper to take my advice.

This was a fucked-up family, and I was part of it now.

We'd talk more as we opened up to one another. Over golf games and business trips and guys' weekend getaway to Dallas to see a Rangers series. But that would come later. For now, Dan and I just knew we were solid. Somehow, Courtney's pregnancy had brought us closer. No matter how much a heel I'd been, Dan loved me. And in my own way, I loved him, too.

***

Cheryl wasn't kidding. She made things up to me. I'd already started back at work when her libido came roaring back. We had morning sex, and I got a welcome home blowjob, and after putting Iris to bed at night, we fucked again. My balls were well drained, and there was no more Randy Slocum time. I even apologized to Dan, but he got it.

"That's cool, Nick. I've been taking your advice... with Courtney. We're kind of having our second honeymoon, even," he said to me as we got changed from our lunchtime gym workout.

I slapped his back. "Glad to hear, buddy."

But the man most thrilled about Cheryl was Big Daddy. He came over almost every night. Presumably to see his granddaughter, but he never left without fucking Cheryl, or at least getting head from her.

We started fucking her together. Me and Mark, side by side, in the bed, taking turns. It was incredible. Watching his big beefy body in full rut, oversized and overpowering his petite daughter, making her orgasm. Then feeling his hands on my more athletic build as I fucked on his father cum. Then kissing both my wife and father-in-law in succession.

As hot as it all was, it made Cheryl happy. My nympho wife had returned and she had both the loves of her lives to keep her satisfied.

I gave them a night together and went over to Dan's for some brother-in-law time. Courntey was over at Mrs. Bryant's, and Dan and I made the most of it. We made out like teenagers in his man cave and slowly stripped down.

"God you have an incredible body, Nick," Dan hissed. "I... I think about it when I fuck Courtney." Then he looked up at my with a lewd grin. "Sometimes I fuck her like you fuck... she loves that."

"I bet she does, buddy," I growled, taking the initiative to pounce on his beefy body and wrestle him to take the top position. Dan was rock hard beneath me. By the time I was fingering his pucker, I felt any resistance melt. "You gonna make me proud, brother?" I teased. "Gonna be a good cunt for me?"

"I'm your cunt, Nick," Dan answered in a heartbeat. "Anytime you need."

I pushed my dick in and we both let out a heavy grunt.

***

I knocked on Mark Bryant's office door. It had been a half hour since the receptionist had gone in for a "private meeting" to take care of my father-in-law's needs. It was my turn for a private meeting.

"Come in," he said, but I was already stepping inside and shutting the door behind me.

"Brennan!" he greeted me. "How's everything going?"

"Good, Mark," I said, plopping myself in one of the leather-upholstered chairs.

He gave me a look. He knew something was up. "Here for business?" he asked.

"Not exactly," I said. "I told Cheryl, but I wanted to make sure you knew. Whenever we have another baby, there's gonna be a paternity test. And I better be the father."

That caught Big Daddy off guard but he gave me his best poker face. "Or else?"

I laid down my royal flush. "Or else I'm making public another paternity test."

That got him mad. Face beet red mad. "What the hell... you blackmailing me, punk?"

I shrugged, not letting his harsh voice get to me. "I call it insurance. You may run things around here, sir, but my home is my castle and I run it. Got it? "

He grinned at my audacity. "Not a lot of men talk to me that way, boy."

"I'm not a lot of men," I replied. "I honestly don't care what you think of me... but I need to know... we got an understanding?"

Big Daddy nodded, and his flush anger turned to a knowing grin. "I'm just glad you're on my team, Brennan. You got some killer instincts."

I smiled and stood up. "Hope to see you this evening, sir. Cheryl's usually up the wall in heat by 5, so maybe if you could leave a little early today."

I could tell that turned the big man on. "Anything for my princess," he growled.

***

I made sure Cheryl was on the pill. I monitored it, and she knew, making sure to take one in front of me from time to time. I think she was scared I'd mess up things for her and Mark. We talked about having another child in three years' time. I wanted Iris to have a younger sibling, but with enough years spacing out our kids so it didn't seem like a frickin' day care around the house.

So I wasn't concerned when I started working later hours. I'd been stepping into the CFO role at the office and while I enjoyed the responsibility and the pay, I was getting home around 8 at night more and more. Big Daddy would already be gone and I'd have a nice wet creampie to eat out of my wife's snatch, while she clawed gently at my hair.

"Yes, Nick, oh yes, babe! Oh GOD!" she'd cry as I'd get her to cum with my tongue. There were some real advantages to having a nympho wife.

****

Dan was traveling on a couple of sales call, so I was spending my lunch time in that favorite abandoned parking lot. It was winter, a real winter week, even in Texas and I leaned back in the driver's seat while Officer Slocum blew me.

It had been too long, and I'd forgotten how hot he looked in full uniform, his cap resting on the dashboard. I gripped the nape of his neck and thrust up into his throat. God help me, the cop knew how to take it.

I was getting turned on so I just went for it, fucking Slocum's throat till I was blasting off.

Randy slurped my prick as he pulled off, sucking off the mucus-y spit and sperm and cleaning me off before giving it a final kiss. He was flushed from excitement when he leaned up. "That was hot, Mr. Nick," he grinned. "Nice." He was a couple years older now than when I first got a blow job off him, and he had aged out of those rookie looks, but still looked young and beefy and fuckable. He pulled a napkin out of my glove compartment and wiped the excess spit from his chin and lips before putting his cap back on.

"I guess I should tell you, Mr. Nick... this will be the last time for us."

God help me, Randy Slocum has gotten some self respect, I thought. "That's cool, Randy," I said, as I wiped off my prick and tucked it back in. "If you ever change your mind..." I offered. Something about getting a cop who can take a throat fuck had me not wanting to stop with Slocum cold turkey.

He grinned. "It's not that, sir... It's just, Jess and I are moving to Austin. I lined up a job with the PD there."

It actually took me a second to put two and two together. Maybe because it never occurred to me that Kevin McConnell was such a sly player. Good for my buddy. I reached over and squeezed that muscle through his uniform shirt. "Best of luck, Officer. Just one last request..."

"What is it, Mr. Nick?" Slocum asked.

I grinned. "Just treat my buddy well," I said. "He deserves a little extra service."

Randy laughed, amused I'd figured it out. "Can do, Mr. Nick."

[titanicfreija]

Crucible Feed Alpha7: How To Git Better.

QUINCY: Hello, fighters, and welcome to a guest segment we were going to call 'How to Git Gud' but the guest requested we change it because they didn't want to get anyone's hopes up.

GUEST: That's not how I said it.

QUINCY: It isn't. Instead, I'm going to allow our guest, Daragon, tell you what they said and what they meant.

DARAGON: Thanks, I guess. Are you a Guardian?

QUINCY: Retired. I'm asking the questions.

DARAGON: Yup. But what I said was that I didn't want anyone to think that this will definitely help. My advice worked for me, and I hope sharing it will benefit others, but ultimately, it isn't for everyone. Some already know, some can't do it, some can do it but to absolutely no avail. It's just tips.

QUINCY: I see. So, without further ado, we have Daragon, also known as Wa2UWant in the arena, offering tips and advice that helped them improve in the crucible.

DARAGON: I don't have an order to these, I just wrote them as they came to me. So the first bullet point is to watch your radar.

QUINCY: Watch your radar? That's it?

DARAGON: Seems simple, right? Still took me too long. I had a nasty habit of hard-scoping, so I hardly remembered it was important.

QUINCY: I take it this was part of that lesson.

DARAGON: Yep! Too many times did I lower my weapon and see my circle turn red. Hop up and back as fast as you can, is the answer there. But enemies aren't the only reason-- knowing where your allies are can be just as important, especially if someone has a benefit to share.

QUINCY: Radar shows precise locations of allies and general direction of enemies, for non-combatants.

DARAGON: You have to make sure you're paying attention to your visual, too. I heard someone call it radar blindness-- they walked right past a crouched enemy.

QUINCY: Oh, no.

DARAGON: Watch for the little red dots-- they are looking down sights and they can see you. There are a couple of arenas that have false ones. Mind any alerts your Ghost is placing on the visuals, like grenade locations. Mine tells me when I need ammo in my big weapons, too, and I ignore it all the time, he hates it. Look where you're being shot from and shoot back or take cover. Pay attention.

QUINCY: Those seem terribly obvious.

DARAGON: I needed one then the other, and I still slip up.

QUINCY: Alright, what's next?

DARAGON: Learn your arenas! This is the hardest of my tips by matter of volume. There is a lot to learn, between the number of arenas and things to learn about them.

QUINCY: Like what?

DARAGON: Size, point locations and all the ways to get there, lanes, blind spots and cover options....

QUINCY: Doesn't sound too bad.

DARAGON: My handwriting is just bad, I'm not done. There's doors and other openings, two-story locations, bottlenecks, ammo boxes, and dead ends and back corners.... And that's not all but it's all I wrote down.

QUINCY: You weren't kidding.

DARAGON: No one should expect to pick it up easily, but Lord Shaxx will grant access to anyone who asks, just to wander around and take notes if you want to study. He loves seeing that stuff.

QUINCY: I can vouch for that.

DARAGON: If you can learn it well enough, the skill lends to flanking -- running around to a side to help your allies. Teaches you places to hide, where to turn when the radar pings toward a wall. Where they're taking cover. All kinds of stuff. Oh- and speaking of cover...

QUINCY: Yes?

DARAGON: Take cover when you're reloading! Keep cover when you move! Cover is good! When peek shooting, you're supposed to step back when you're hurt or need to reload!

QUINCY: I take it this is a common mistake?

DARAGON: I can't pretend I don't do it. I'll try to line up the shot by eye while I reload. Don't do that.

QUINCY: Do you have any other advice you still need to take?

DARAGON: Hands down, I need to get better at running. I am so bad about trying to stay longer than I should. I don't need to blitz but I certainly don't win drawn out fights with my chosen range.

QUINCY: When should you run?

DARAGON: Before you start- where's your Light? How loaded are you? Wheres cover for you? For them? Where are your blind spots? How bad can they flank? Do you have the weapons for the range? Have you already lost this fight before? Repositioning is good for any doubts.

QUINCY: And after the fight starts?

DARAGON: How bad are you outmatched? Weapon type matchup for the range? Cover options for the fight or for running? The calculation is not an easy one, but it's literally life or death.

QUINCY: I see you've got two bullet points close together for this next one?

DARAGON: This is a little too inspecific to really be helpful but it's something I know a lot of people never learn to do.

QUINCY: Oh?

DARAGON: Play to your strengths. I have seen so many people try to push themselves into stuff that not only isn't their thing but isn't even fun for them, just because they heard someone say it was good. Don't do that. Learn yourself and use your kit to enhance what you're good at and cover your faults until you can learn to cover them yourself.

QUINCY: I know you said it was inspecific, but do you have any good directions to get anyone started?

DARAGON: Like I said, learn yourself. What's your talent? Are you good at laning? Blitzing? Fast or steadfast? Did the arenas come easy to you? Figure out what weapons or armor complement that. Troubleshoot your losses-- do you have problems countering certain tactics or weapons? Struggle in short or long range? Always getting flanked? Figure out what's wrong and work out a solution-- reconfigure your tactics, weapons, stay out of areas that lend to them and take from you. Find perks that work for you, regardless of popularity, that's another one I see a lot. People will run weapons with mods they never use or never get to use because they're no good with them. Headshot mods aren't good for people who aren't good with headshots.

QUINCY: Another one that seems fairly straightforward.

DARAGON: Easy lesson, hard to take to heart. Knucklehead Radar is my best friend with my LDS habit, but I didn't want to for far too long.

QUINCY: I see. What's next?

DARAGON: If I come back, I'll do a breakdown of gun archetypes and frames, maybe, but that'll be too long now. Instead, I've got some terrible news-- I still have the same old advice as normal.

QUINCY: Lower your expectations and keep trying?

DARAGON: Yes, but when I say it, it'll sound much better.

QUINCY: Oh really?

DARAGON: Be kind to yourself. You're learning. You can't get better if you give up.

QUINCY: That was much better, yes.

DARAGON: Don't force yourself to do it if you're not having a good time. Learn how to have a good time and lose. Even the best people lose sometimes. Everyone has shitty days when they walk away spitting slugs and teeth. Everyone. Forgive yourself for those times. Even if it's every time. And finally....

QUINCY: Finally?

DARAGON: Do it. Get in there. Fight. Don't psyche yourself out. If you don't have fun, leave, but go in scared if you're scared.

QUINCY: That's it?

DARAGON: Yep!

QUINCY: We might ask you back for those type breakdowns.

DARAGON: Cool!

@wolvereaux @annieruok94

[bronzeagepizzeria]

20 QUESTIONS GAME

Thanks for the tag @nodirectionhome-ao3!!

1. How many works do you have on AO3?

17

2. What's your total AO3 words count? 81,583

3. What fandoms do you write for?

doctor who and harry potter, as of now. i do have a few x-men fics in the works!

4. What are your top 5 fics by kudos?

Of Thorns and Roses: tenrose; arranged marriage au

The Surrender: tenrose; shag or die

Dimorphous Expressions of Positive Emotion: tentoorose; babyfic

One Day Closer To Death: tenrose/tentoorose; post JE reunion

The Seduction Pit: tentoorose; ood sex talk crack fic

5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

almost IMMEDIATELY haha. as soon as i post/update i be refreshing that inbox :')

6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

as of right now, it's got to be One Day Closer To Death. the ending is still canon compliant w.r.t ten’s arc in the show, i just wanted to give him a little closure. but it made me saddddd.

7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

probably this little microfic? it’s just a fluffy slice of life thing about mia’s first play.

8. Do you get hate on fics?

nah. i’ve got maybe one or two slightly odd comments but not outright hate

9. Do you write smut? If so what kind?

i have tried it a handful of times and i think there’s loads of scope for improvement so i’ve got to keep practicing. as for the kind, erm, f/m i guess?

i only have one m/m ship at the moment and i don't usually think of them in smutty ways (it's the angst that draws me in lol) but never say never, i think.

10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written?

no, and i don't know if i ever would...i love playing in the sandbox of AUs but a full blown crossover doesn't appeal to me at the moment

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen?

probably not

12. Have you ever had a fic translated?

nope

13. Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

co-writing one right now with @thirdeyeblue for the tentoo gift exchange! also working on a jily one with @joyseuphoria but we've yet to make proper progress xD

14. What's your all-time favourite ship?

i'd have to say doctor x rose. i've had a lot of ships and usually i move through them super quick so the fact that i've stuck on for 3ish years is a big deal!!

cherik is going up my otp scale rapidly as well

15. What's a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

i AM going to finish my WIPs. manifesting

16. What are your writing strengths?

i think dialogue, mostly. i think (hope) it’s usually in character and it flows quite decently. i watch a lotttt of movies so it comes to me more easily than other parts of writing

17. What are your writing weaknesses?

i feel like a lot of my descriptiveness is lacking? like it just comes across as filler, or it’s too expository. i also can’t write actions 🫠

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

i am fluent(ish) in a few languages other than english but they almost never come up in fic lol. but if i had to include a foreign language, i’d either write it from the pov of the character who doesn’t know the language (and gets it translated from a third party) or i’d have to consult someone who could help me out with the language

19. First fandom you wrote for?

when i was 12 i wrote a chris hemsworth x reader fic on wattpad 😭 the first proper “fandom” was probably x-men. i hand wrote a bunch of logan lives (logan-2017) fics in my diary lmfao

20. Favourite fic you've ever written?

god. idk😂 nothing at the moment

Tagging: @thirdeyeblue @nostradamus0 @naaer @demdifferentstories-29 @ashesandhackles

[ina-nis]

Today is one of those days that are specially hard to go through alone so... I've been crying and trying to find comfort however I can... but mostly crying.

This is really painful and I'm quite literally too exhausted to fight loneliness or even distract myself for long enough - and no, all the good things don't really help, as they do not address loneliness.

Time and again, in days like today, I get angry at myself for being so stubborn, so unyielding. Whenever I do think about giving up (no dying, just giving up on trying to address this) it makes me cry so hard, as if there were something inside of me fighting to keep going.

I hate this.

I don't want to think about this anymore, I don't want to feel like this anymore. I don't want to love, I don't want to date anyone, I just want it to be gone so I can try and live my life, and maybe get some enjoyment from all other things that make me happy (that get absolutely drowned by all this noise).

But I can't help it, of course I can't!

I obsess and obsess and obsess because that's what I do best! And now I actually know why that happens so I can at least sleep at night knowing it's not my fault.

"Hey, you've done enough. You tried the best you could and you did a good job. You can rest now, you can stop, it's alright. It's okay for you to stop."

I wish someone would tell me this.

Telling this myself does nothing.

New therapist mentioned something about finding a middle-ground but I'm way too exhausted to even try anything anymore.

People drain me and I feel sick to my stomach. These feelings hurt and, to make matters worse, my brain gets absolutely sucked up in so I'm left pretty much helpless to stop for long enough - it always come back, because the main issue remains the same.

When I stop to think about why I can't give up, there's 2 things I see: absolutely terrible people or very dysfunctional ones able to develop and maintain relationships despite it all, so I think "if they can do it like that, how could I not? When I'm actually putting so much effort and money into addressing my issues for the sake of myself and others."

The other thing is because I am able to love at all, although unrequited so far, I am able to experience this big scope of emotions that come with romantic love and more.

I guess one of the main steps into "moving on" from these feelings, from what I've seen, is to move away from love and love-related things, away from romance and so on. It makes sense because they are "triggers" for me.

I was met with an issue though...

A lot of my life and identity revolves around love.

When I embraced my natural eroticism and inclinations, was when I really started recognizing and liking myself.

Romance is a big part of who I am as an individual, independent of others, because I can experience romance by myself.

I cannot imagine a life without these things.

That's probably why I was never able to truly "kill" my feelings, I was never able to move on from them or completely bury them in the back of my mind.

I was never able to come to hate people despite the fact that I tried so hard, for so many years, to become a misanthrope.

I love them, I can't help but love them. Because I love myself I am able to love others too, because I see some of myself in them, and there's some things of theirs in me, too.

So my wish is to be done with feelings that are fundamental to me.

To wish them away is the same as wishing my own life away.

Isn't that ironic coming from someone who is chronically suicidal?

[incognito-insomniac]

I'd love to hear about Ascots and Tie-pins. Oh, and silver linings too :)

^_^ thank you, @socially-awkward-skeleton!

Ascots and Tie-Pins is the working title for a Peter Jakes/Endeavour Morse WIP because I don't have enough of those two already :P. They go undercover to infiltrate a gay club and Jakes has to come to terms with a) his internalize homophobia and b) that he very much wants to kiss Morse. I have the first chapter posted as part of the 2021 Fluffy Feb but never got further than that.

Silver Linings is a Dragon Age Inquisition WIP for Osyen Trevelyan that is......chaotic at best, horny at worst. The man has issues. And I have issues keeping a singular plot going instead of letting him bang everyone in Skyhold. It's SUPPOSED to be about him resolving childhood issues with Josephine and falling in love. I'll trim out the scope creep some day...

Here's some snippets:

Ascots and Tie-Pins - you got me to work on my WIP, thank you! Flushed out some script into prose for this cute little scene:

There was a knock at his door. Morse opened it to find a very drunk Detective Sergeant. “Jakes?”

“Why do I look good in men's clothes?” His words were slurred as he leaned against the front doorway.

Morse raised an eyebrow at the question. It seemed to have an obvious answer. Maybe Jakes was fishing for a complement. Morse was not going to oblige. “Being a man probably helps?”

Jakes frowned that was obviously not the answer he was looking for. “But why do I like the clothes you picked out for me?:”

Oh. Gay men’s clothing. Or at least that’s how Jakes saw it apparently. “Well, ” he began but Jakes cut him off.

“Why do you know what to wear to a gay club?”

Morse froze. That was not a question he wanted to answer.

“Why did you know so much about club? Why did you help me? Why did you kiss me?”

His heart was racing. Too many questions too quickly and all leading to a big conversation he wasn’t prepared to have even with himself. He’d been trying not to think about the night all week. He’d gone too far. And he was afraid what Jakes would do.

Jakes leaned in through the doorway with pout. “Why can't I stop thinking about that kiss? Why do I like your kisses so much?”

His eyebrows shot up. He couldn’t be serious. But pissed as he was he had to be. “Jakes?” Morse dared to step closer to him.

Jakes quickly pulled his face up into a sloppy kiss. He smelled of cheap gin and cigarettes, but Morse couldn’t help but find it intoxicating. As he moved into his embrace, Jakes went limp and plummeted toward the ground.

“Jakes!” Morse tried his best to catch him but more just eased his way to the ground. “Why are you so heavy?” Morse hooked his arms and started to pull him into his flat. It was slow going but eventually, he got him into his bed to sleep it off.

Silver Linings - again this WIP is pretty much all script except for the first chapter which I'm considering posting this weekend. And another chapter I already shared on another WIP thing. Here's a funny snippet as they trek through ruins to close the Breach:

Varric: So…are you innocent? Osyen: I don’t remember what happened Varric: That’ll get you every time. Should have spun a story. Cassandra: That’s what you would have done. Varric: It’s more believable, and less prone to result in premature execution. Osyen: Not if you’re a horrible liar. Varric: Which you are? Osyen nods. Osyen: And I don’t think the Seeker would approve of flagrant lies. Cassandra: I do not. Varric: Why are you looking at me? I have never once lied to you. Took creative license with certain details, maybe. Never lied. Cassandra: *disgusted noises*

[micalpixel]

May Flowers Game - August 2024 Progress Report

Hello everyone! It's time for the August devlog entry for my indie game work-in-progress! Here are the topics for this month:

World and Story

Gameplay

Features

Graphics and Sound

Research

What's Next

World and Story

The #1 goal for August was to finish an outline of the entire main quest. Here it is. Shrunk down heavily. Because, ya know, this would spoil the entire story. :3

Summary of the chart:

May must collect 6 use-able items. These will be obtained in a linear order. The goal with these is to slowly enhance May's abilities in a way that builds on the abilities she learned before. The order really is important.

May must collect 7 sets of 3 quest items (21 items total) to win the game. These can be obtained in ANY order. The goal with these is to encourage exploration. While exploring an area, you might not find one of these items. But you may find a component of one of them. Which means you can start working towards it, by accident. Exploration is meaningful and will be rewarded.

The columns indicate items, characters, locations, types of events, and descriptions of said events.

I'm really excited with some of the cutscenes and characters. And others, not so much. This graph will be iterated on and improved over time.

Gameplay

Two major updates for gameplay...

#1: So, in the very first week of development, I made a few decisions in order to limit the scope of the game (so it wouldn't get too big and hard to complete):

No HUD or health bars (complexity)

No combat (combat requires balancing, more items, etc)

No equippable items.

But then, I made a critical error. I assumed that a game with no health bar and no combat meant a game with no enemies. And...that is not correct. I completely forgot that games where the goal is to avoid touching enemies, rather than fight them, exist. Watching a playthrough of an old game called "Ancient Empires" made me realize this. And there are other famous such games where that is the entire point, like "The World's Hardest Game."

So, May's game won't just be about puzzles and meeting NPCs anymore. I'm going to start adding enemies for May to avoid. (Sorry, May) :3

And this is actually really important. Avoiding enemies can be a challenge. Avoiding enemies as efficiently as possible can be an even harder self-imposed challenge for players. A game with no enemies, and with kinda simple puzzles, is kinda not challenging. Without challenge, a game becomes boring. Even really simple enemies moving around, blocking the way, will make the player stop and think about the best way to proceed.

In the end, I'm confident that adding enemies will make the game more fun.

#2: Another new major mechanic will be the ability to pick up and drop items. These items can have various properties. Some might be part of a delivery quest. Some might interact with puzzles in unique ways.  During this time, she won't be able to use her other abilities. She WILL be able to carry them from one room to another, though.

Since items are not equippable, and there is no HUD, how will the player know which item May currently has?

May will hold it over her head as she walks around. :3

In short, you're going to see May holding things above her head. A lot. :D

(Placeholder yellow square for now. :3)

Features

A couple of new features were added to the game engine this month:

Gamepad and Touch Input Support: The game now supports controllers, and touch input too. Touch inputs involve an overlay of buttons, similar to how many mobile emulators work. Eventually, I think these will be moved to the left and right sides of the game, rather than blocking the view. But do non-touchscreen players really want to see that? This is something I need to think more about.

(This is a placeholder UI. Not final!! It works, I swear!)

Large Scrolling Maps: I think I'm going to keep puzzle-ish rooms to a single screen size. However, for open areas, I think having large traversible "rooms" will suit the gameplay better, and be a nice change of pace.

Minimap: The game now has a functional minimap screen. You can see your current location, and also  move the cursor to view others. I ultimately want to see if I can have sidequests in-progress be managed here too.

Text Features: The game now supports more dynamic text. During cutscenes, I can change the text speed, add pauses, and wait for player input. This will be important for adding characters' mannerisms. And comedic timing too. ^^

Better Scene Management: Code for cutscenes was tidied up. Multiple different NPC objects now rely on a common script. Also, May can now switch between player-controlled movement, and movement dictated by cutscenes.

Code Cleanup: Lots of improvements to the code were made, to help keep things less buggy and make it easier to add new maps. For example: Each room spawns a "May" so it can be tested independently, but moving to a different room will no longer spawn a second "May". It used to. And it was deleted immediately. But this caused weird flickering issues due to multiple cameras being present, even if it was just for one frame.

Graphics and Sound

No updates on sound...

For graphics, though. I made a mockup of the inventory screen.

I also studied lots of pixel art games with similar character sizes. And I realized, even for such small sprites, there's a ton of variety. I don't expect May's sprite to change much. But for the environments, there are so many different ways to do things. Need to think about that more.

And also created the first full-size art of May.

One person even made fanart of her!! 🥲 Thanks, Loren!!

Research

Lots and lots of research was done this month. Especially for that main quest arc above.

I realized that it would be much easier to think of ideas if I had a list of things in front of me. So, instead of wondering, "What item would make sense for this character?", I can just browse a list of hundreds of item ideas and see if anything jumps out. Items, characters, professions, locations, adjectives... Lists for all of these are now ready to use.

I also did some research on specific real-world topics. On beekeeping, since May is a beekeeper. And also a few other historical things.

And also, watched/played a few video games:

Played: The Frog for Whom the Bell Tolls (I studied how it handles quest and item progression)

Watched: Mother 1 (I forgot so much of this game, just wanted to see it again.)

Watched: Quest: Brian's Journey (made me realize I should think more about environmental graphical styles)

Watched: Ancient Empires (reminded me that you can have a game with enemies but without combat)

Playing: OneShot (yes, finally!)

What's Next

So...What's next on the agenda?

Take another swing at the main quest arc chart above. I took notes on the first one, where I felt it was lacking. And I'd like to addres them in the next version.  For example, focus more about designing tasks that require use of May's abilties, rather than just delivering things. I may even build another chart, completely from scratch, with all new characters and locations. Just to see what kinds of ideas shake out of that.

Think more about major themes. What is this game about? What is this game's world about? Who is May? What is village life like?

Make a test dungeon. An interconnected series of rooms with puzzles and enemies, to see what the gameplay feels like.

Create a "Vertical Slice" of the game. This means a demo of part of the game where everything is 100% polished and is something a lot of game developers create. It's a way of saying, "The game will be exactly this, just more of it."

Maaaybe work on graphics for characters and scenery? At the very least, experimenting on different styles.

A major term on my mind is "Iterative Design." Making something, and then improving it. Again and again. There are so many parts to a game, all influencing each other. Until now, they're all been worked on independently.

But that main quest chart shows how things are becoming connected. Characters, locations, items, abilities, themes, puzzles, the world itself. When one is changed or improved, it means the others are impacted and thus need to be improved too, to get them on the same level.

So, I think a lot of the work going forward will be to smooth over everything with a finer and finer comb, and do the same to everything else.

Thank you for reading. See you next month!

[greenjokwe-blog]

Bloodborne - Finished 19/01/2023

Third FromSoft Souls-like game I’ve finished now! Kinda scary to talk about this one considering the game’s INSANE reputation as one of the greatest things ever, and I definitely did really enjoy it and think all of these games I’ve played so far are definitely masters of their craft, buuuuut I did have my fair share of gripes with it.

Okay first off I should make the biggest and most obvious complaint about the game clear - this shit NEEDS a modern day update. Constant pop-in and framerate drops really kinda bog down a lot of the games best moments, and if they just ported the game onto next-gen consoles with a slight patch update the game would be an undoubtable recommendation from me.

Next up, the most obvious COMPLIMENT for the game! The world is absolutely stunning. It’s all so beautifully dreary and intimidating, and keeps that feeling throughout. While it does make me miss that variety and scope of constantly traversing Dark Souls, the consistency of the theming here and believability of a real breathing location definitely makes up for it. The designs of all of the characters and enemies here are also excellent, REALLY perfecting that Lovecraftian horror design, legit you won’t see shit that looks like this in any other game.

Then there’s the combat, which... hasn’t really swayed me one way or the other on Souls combat in general, which is good, but not in a vacuum. Every single weapon is viable now! Which seems neat, but ultimately means you’re less likely to experiment when you use one build the whole time, which is probably good for some, and the game at least makes up for it by making upgrading multiple weapons at a time fairly painless, but there’s a lot LESS decision-making than in Dark Souls, and even less than it’s “more aggressive” system here would have you believe, because a lot of bosses in this game can be defeated by just spam-dodging into them and wailing R1 mindlessly. Until you get to the The Old Hunters that is in which case HOLY FUCK I THINK THEY BUFFED UP THE BOSSES A BIT TOO MUCH.

Oh yeah, the bosses, right. The big Souls selling point. They’re pretty good I guess. The thing with me is that I always kinda craved the insane diversity of the bosses that Demon’s/Dark Souls always gave, and these bosses are definitely a lot more consistent and there’s nothing as bad as say, Capra Demon or Maneater, I also feel like there’s also nothing as good as shit like Artorias or even Sif (This is why we love Micolash in this house). I did also really like the final boss though, and shit like beating Matyr Logarius first try, or FINALLY beating Orphan of Kos after so many hours gave me a feeling of satisfaction I won’t feel in any other game, so I think it still works pretty well.

The worst part about going through this game though, for me, was the Blood Vial system. I’ve alluded to it but a lot of shit was done in Bloodborne in order to streamline the combat experience, one of the big things is give you a default max of 20 healing items on you at a time so you can more easily spam them while struggling in a boss (it even lets you move while using them now, how sweet). However, what this DOES mean is that Blood Vials only come back to you when you have enough unlike Estus Flasks, and are overall closer to working like the healing items in Demon’s Souls, so guess what, THE GRIND IS BACK BAYBEEEEEEEE! JESUS is it a step-down in almost every aspect, the ease of use in bosses is not worth me grinding at this one spot over and over again to either 1. get blood vials from enemy drops or 2. get enough blood echos to hopefully buy enough vials to fight the upcoming boss for the next 10 minutes. This, along with the Nexus-like hub world labelled Hunter’s Dream, just feels like Bloodborne taking unnecessary step-backs from what Dark Souls established in order to make the game “more convenient” when it does anything but.

So uh... Bloodborne. Still VERY VERY VERY GOOD don’t get me wrong!!!  Absolutely worth playing and isn’t much like anything else, but... I still prefer DS1!!! Sorry!!!

[madameminor]

In More Ways Than One, Part 5.5 - Bad Batch x F!Reader - Bait

Summary: Wrecker isn't known as the smart one. But he sure knows how to drop some wisdom.

Warnings: Aren't really any, this is a very tame chapter. I'll rate it T for teen.

Notes: Here's a snack to hold y'all over, full of show quotes. I'm really letting this next one simmer, and I think I found something I'm really excited to write. Thanks again to everyone joining in, liking and reblogging. It always puts a smile on my face. 💜

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 3.5 Part 4 Part 4.5 Part 5 Part 5.5 Part 6 Part 6.5 Part 7 Part 8 Part 8.5 Part 9 Part 9.5 Part 10

Hunter, Tech and Wrecker snuck down the rest of the hill by the Separatist base, using the trees and plant life as coverage before landing behind a (conveniently placed) low rock outcropping. From the vantage point, they could see the squad of droids guarding the entrance to their loading dock. Well, until they all started moving inside double time and closing the massive doors behind them.

Looks like your little diversion was working.

Hunter motioned to Tech, who nodded and snuck the 20 yards to the small entry next to the bay doors. Hunter looked toward the front of the base, waiting for your signal.

Wrecker pounded the rock in frustration. “OOOoooOOOh. Where is she?”

Hunter kept looking through his scopes. “Relax, Wrecker. She’s done things like this before.”

Wrecker slumped down onto the rock, resting his helmet in one hand while tapping his foot. “I know, I’m just… more worried now that, you know, we've all been with her. Well, uh, most of us.”

Wrecker looked over at Hunter, seeming for all the world to forget about where they were. “Hey sarge, you knew about this 'arrangement' the whole time, right? So why haven’t you two kriffed yet?”

Hunter smirked under his helmet. Wrecker, true to form. "You want to talk about this now?"

"Yeah, why not?"

Couldn't argue with that. “Wanted her to get to all of you first. Besides, I think she’s enjoying baiting me.” Speaking of bait... where were you?

“She hasn’t made a move on you?”

"I told her I’d come to her when I wanted to.” Well, not exactly, but the indication was there. And you were definitely advertising your desire, just not seeking it. You understood.

“You haven't wanted to?! Sarge, are you nuts?”

Hunter shook his head, pulling back from his scopes but still looking in the direction of the front of the base . “I’m waiting for the right moment.” When he could hear nothing but you, smell, feel, taste nothing but you.

"When’s that gonna be?"

"I don’t know."

"Huh, I think I get that.” Wrecker leaned his elbows on the rock outcropping. “I wanted to take her out for a picnic or something nice, but it’s not like we get many chances, you know? And I would never have thought that Crosshair being around would come in handy. Who’da thought of THAT?”

Hunter looked over at his brother.

“So I’m glad she didn’t let me wait, I don’t think it would have been as good if I planned it. And she seemed to like when there were two of us, one watchin’ and one workin’."

“Did she now?” Hunter's eyebrows rose, a smolder rising in his belly at the revelation.

"Heheh, YEAH. At least, that’s what crosshair said. She got real sensitive and squirmy. It was HOT."

“Hmm.” Maybe he was trying to control it too much, trying to make it perfect. Why waste all of that energy on things he couldn't control? What could he control?

You.

Hmph. Interesting idea.

"Thanks Wrecker," Hunter smirked.

“For what?”

Hunter’s comm sounded- it was Crosshair.

“She’s headed back. Your move.”

Hunter looked through his scopes – there you were, running from cover to cover, a mass of clankers following you. Good to be bait when you’re not a clone- keeps their guard down.

Hunter stood straight, pocketing his scopes. Back to business. “Wrecker, that’s us." The big man jumped into action as Hunter pressed his comm link. "Tech, are you ready over there?”

Tech's irritated tone came in loud and clear. “I assume that’s a rhetorical question.”

Hunter ignored him. "Alright boys, let’s get to work. Can’t let the medic do everything around here."

Wrecker pumped his fist in the air as he followed Hunter towards the base. “Lets blow something up! YEAH!”

What up, tag list?!

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[bnhabadass]

So excited to be sharing my piece for this months bnharem collab!!! The theme for this is, you guessed it, sex worker!au. I am so honored to be writing along with everyone else who put so much time and energy into writing these pieces. Please please please check out their collab pieces here. Everyone has put so much work into these so give them a read through and some warm and fuzzy notes 😊💕✨

Pairing: Touya Todoroki x Reader Genre: NSFW Warnings: Coercion, Dubcon, Anal fingering, Hardcore sex, Deepthroating, Dabi is a Todoroki Word Count: 6,166 Synopsis: Rich ceo Enji Todoroki gives you the offer of a lifetime on one condition. You have to sleep with his eldest son.

Working at a strip club was the last thing you pictured yourself doing after you graduated high school. After graduating and moving into a cheap apartment on the outskirts of town, you decided to start working immediately to support yourself. At first, you first got a job working at a cute little Italian restaurant that paid quite well. Waiting tables helped pay the bills and save up for college a little, but after two years of working at the same restaurant, it unfortunately went out of business.

That was one of your worst months, constantly looking for new work and facing rejection after rejection to the point that you were plagued by the phrase, “not enough work experience.” By the time a month and a half went by of you scoping out newspapers and checking all of the job finder apps on your phone, you had gone through most of your savings.

One of your best friends, after realizing how bad your situation was, decided that it couldn't hurt to see if you wanted a position at the joint she ran.

You were very skeptical at first, since she happened to run an insanely popular erotic dance club (aka, a strip club) in town, but she assured you that you wouldn’t be stripping, just bartending and dishwashing. As soon as she explained everything, you immediately took her up on the offer and decided from then on you would owe Mina Ashido your life.

You were able to pick things up easily, make conversation with customers and become friends with many of the dancers who worked at the club. The only downside to working the job was, well, you’re cute. And that meant you got a lot of unwanted attention from guys who initially came for the strippers.

Mina assured you that if you ever needed to take a step away, that that was perfectly fine. But the attention you got wasn’t so bad, you thought. At least there was a bar counter separating you from the wandering hands and predatory words of these people.

Bartending, while it was enough to pay the bills and save up for some nicer furniture, did not pay as much as you would have liked it to. While you wouldn’t have dreamed of asking your friend for a raise, you still felt somewhat resentful watching the dancers at the club walk home with stacks of cash from tips meanwhile you had to wait every two weeks to get your next paycheck.

You were astonished when, on your twenty-first birthday, Mina offered you a job as a dancer. “A lot of our regular customers have been asking about that ‘cute bartender,’” she said. “And I think you would actually really enjoy it. Plus, it pays a lot more.” She ended that last bit in a sing-song voice, as if that in and of itself would be enough to convince you.

You were tempted to say no, you really were, but you’ve seen how much fun the dancers have and how much money they walk away with every night. You knew next to nothing about stripping or pole dancing, but Mina assured you that she’d teach you and that you’d pick it up fast.

And she wasn’t wrong. After a month of her teaching you how to sway your hips and gyrate your body, dip down and caress every exposed inch of skin with your supple fingers, you were ready to hit the audience with everything you had.

You didn’t realize how much fun you would have as a pole dancer. It was a great form of exercise and you kind of liked having lots of people cheering for you to show off your sexy moves. Plus, walking home with a stack of cash each night was one of the greatest perks it came with.

There was only one rule that you had, which you made abundantly clear to Mina. All you would be doing was pole dancing. No lap dances, no touching the audience, and for the love of god, no sleeping with the audience.

And she respected your wishes, even going as far as asking some customers to leave who have tried to touch you without your consent. She keeps a hawk eye over you and every audience member and their wandering hands. You’re nothing but grateful for everything she has done for you.

After the first few months of pole dancing and wearing revealing costumes, you moved into a new apartment and bought nicer furniture. Things were definitely starting to turn around for the better.

“Hey,” you greeted your fellow coworkers as you made your way into the locker room. The club was about to close up for the night and you were more than ready to flop onto your bed at home and sleep until your next shift. “Have any of you seen Mina?”

The other girls looked around at one another. No one seemed to have an answer for her whereabouts.

“Oh!” Nejire popped up. “I think I saw her talking to some guy in her office. Yeah, yeah. Some big guy wearing a business suit.”

Tsu frowned. “I wonder what that could be about.”

You nodded, a sudden feeling of anxiety washing over you. You really hoped she wasn’t being bought out or something. If she wasn’t the one running the club anymore, or worse, if the club was demolished, you would be surely out of a job.

A knock on the locker room door made you swallow your thoughts. “Is (Y/n) in here?” Mina’s voice rang through the room.

“I’m here,” you piped.

She looked scared, and a bit pale. You don’t think you’ve ever seen her look fearful before, even when dealing with rough customers who refuse to leave the building. “Could you come with me for a sec?”

“Sure.” The anxiety you were feeling was bubbling back in your stomach. “Just let me get dressed.”

“Actually,” her voice was shaking. “If you could come here now that would be better.”

You paused, then nodded and followed her to her office. On the way there, she squeezed your hand, slipping something inside.

“I’m so sorry,” she said. “Please, please forgive me for doing this.”

“Mina, what’s going on?” You were worried. Never in the time that you knew her had she ever been so apologetic.

At her office door, you looked at what she slipped into your hand. A small pink bottle of pepper spray stared back at you. What could she have done that you would need this?

She opened her office door and on the other side, like Nejire said there would be, was a big, beefy businessman clad in a suit that was probably worth more than your rent.

“Mina,” you whispered to your best friend. “What is going on?”

The man turned around and you shrunk at his intimidating appearance. You felt the need to cross your arms and cover up your exposed skin of which there was a lot of. “Hello,” the man bellowed with such a low timber. “You must be (Y/n).”

How did he know your name? What did Mina tell him? Who is this man?

You meekly nodded your head and clutched onto the pepper spray until your knuckles couldn’t stand it anymore.

“Forgive me for not introducing myself first.” He extended a hand. “My name is Enji Todoroki and I am the ceo of Todoroki Enterprises.”

You gulped. What the hell did Mina get herself into? You croaked out an “oh” before extending your hand and shaking his. “That’s nice.” You didn’t really know what to say. Was he considering buying the building from Mina? You looked at her and she shrunk back at your gaze.

“Ashido,” he said with a stern demeanor. “If you would please.”

She nodded and squeezed your shoulder one last time. “I’m so sorry,” she whispered in your ear one last time before leaving the room.

And then there was silence. You took a moment to breathe and look around Mina’s office, find something to calm your nerves with. Her office was usually like a little safe haven for you and the other dancers. She deemed a corner of the room the “zen area” where she set up cushions and a kettle and tea boxes. You stared at the fuzzy pink cushion you were so used to sitting on. You were sure your butt had made an imprint.

“Please, take a seat,” Enji Todoroki said, gesturing to the other side of Mina’s desk, away from the cushion that brought you so much comfort.

You frowned at his tone of voice, as if he had been there many times before and as if he owned the damn office himself. At least there was a nice fuzzy blanket on that side of the desk which you could use to cover yourself.

“I can tell that my presence is intimidating you,” he said. “But please, allow me to make my offer before jumping to any conclusions.”

Why was he making an offer to you? What did he want from you?

“As I am sure you are aware, Todoroki Enterprises is a million dollar company run by me and my other associates.”

You nodded. You were not aware of that but you were afraid of what would happen if you asked too many questions.

“And once I retire, the company will fall on the shoulders of my eldest son, Touya.” Enji Todoroki sighed and rubbed his eyes and the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger. “At the moment, he is being rather difficult.”

You nodded. You weren’t sure what was going on, why he was telling you this, but hearing about this rich ceo’s family drama did spark a bit of interest in you.

“He is not doing what I ask of him. He spends all day sleeping in and wasting my money and he refuses to take any part in working for the company.”

That sounded like typical teenage behavior to you. You weren’t sure why this man was being so pessimistic about it, or why he was even telling you in the first place. Surely it’s just a phase he would grow out of. “I’m sorry,” you started, feeling incredibly out of place with the conversation. “I’m not really sure why you’re telling me this information.”

Enji Todoroki let out another sigh. It wasn’t so much that he was fed up with your inability to understand, but really he seemed reluctant to be there talking to you in the first place. “I believe that if he were to have some, well, motivation, he may actually perform his tasks as a part of the company and as future head.”

“Motivation?” What on earth did he mean by that?

“I watched you and your co-workers perform tonight, and from watching your movements paired with his type, you seem like you would be best suited for the job.”

Your face flushed. He couldn’t be suggesting that, could he?

“(L/n), I would like to hire you to have intercourse with my son.”

Your eyes widened. He wanted what? There was no way, no way you could do that. “I’m sorry,” you said with staggered breath. “I don’t think I’m comfortable having sex with a teenager.” You smiled and nodded, thinking that would be the end of it.

“A teenager? My son is twenty-six years old.”

You paused for a moment before letting out an incredibly articulate, “uhhhhh, what?”

“My son is a fully grown adult, older than you in fact. So if your concerns lie within the legality of this exchange I can assure you that he is not a minor.” Enji Todoroki’s booming voice had just shattered your resolve.

Still, he couldn’t make you do anything you didn’t want to. All you had to do was tell him no and it would have been fine.

But you didn’t get a chance to. Before you could even think of what to say next, Enji Todoroki spoke up yet again. “I presume you are wondering what kind of compensation you will be receiving in return.”

You stayed silent.

“Your boss tells me that you are saving up to attend university and intend on furthering your education. I can only admire that kind of work ethic.”

Why? What could he possibly do with that information to make his offer worthwhile? It dawned on you then that that is why Mina was acting so weird, apologizing constantly as she led you to her office. She must not have been able to find a way out of this for you. Either that or the deal was too good to speak on your behalf of. But what could it even be?

“If you are willing to spend a night with my son and get him to take more responsibility in the company, Todoroki Enterprises will pay for your full college tuition at any institution you decide to attend.”

Your jaw fell onto the floor. This had to be a prank, right? Was he seriously offering to pay your full tuition for you?

“So, do we have a deal?” Enji Todoroki leaned forward against the desk and folded his hands together, large hands that could probably hurt you if you decided to say no.

“This is...” you trailed off. You didn’t know what to say or how to respond to an offer like that. He must be pretty desperate for his son to work in order to pay for your tuition in full.

His son.

Oh.

If you took up this offer, then you would have to… “What if I say no?” you asked.

He cleared his throat. “While I would tell you that saying no to this offer would not be in your best interest,” he started. “I cannot force you to say yes or do anything you are uncomfortable with.”

You let out a breath you didn’t realize you were holding. This was an impossible decision. You didn’t know his son, what he looked like or if he would even want to have sex with you. “It would only be for one night, right?”

Enji Todoroki nodded and let out a sort of grunt out of confirmation.

The thought of being with someone you didn’t know was scary. But at the same time, you would never get an opportunity like this again. Taking a deep breath in and keeping your dream school in mind, you nodded. “I’ll do it.”

“You made the right choice.” He stood up and you followed suit, assuming he’d have you shake his hand and schedule a time and place. “If you’d follow me, the car is waiting out front.”

“Wait, you mean right now?” No, you needed more time to prepare, to figure things out and to take it all in.

“Unless you have something important to attend to, which I doubt you do since you just finished your shift at work, then yes right now.” His eyes, which you hadn’t realized were such a remarkable shade of blue, bore deep into you. “I don’t like to be kept waiting, and neither does my son.”

“Right,” you flinched. “Um, if I could just grab my stuff and get dressed–”

“There will be no need. I already asked your boss to gather your things. We will provide a covering for you so there is no need to get dressed.” The authoritative tone to his voice made you feel so small, like there would be no way for you to even say no against his gaze. “Now if you’ll please follow me.”

You nodded and followed him out of the office and past the locker room where Mina and the other girls watched as you walked away. You barely had any time to watch them or wish them a good night before Enji Todoroki’s bellowing voice spoke up again.

“Our car is waiting out front. In the meantime, you can cover yourself with this.”

Another stranger, someone you presume works for Todoroki Enterprises, handed you a long, tan trench coat. You swiftly threw it over your shoulders and fastened the tie tight against your stomach. He also presented the boots that you wore to work that morning. Mina must have given them your things.

“If you’ll follow me this way,” the stranger said.

He led you outside where you could see the sun begin to poke its way up from beyond the horizon. You hadn’t realized how early in the morning it was. Would Enji Todoroki’s son even be awake at this point?

You were ushered into the backseat of a sleek black Tesla. You had never been in a car that nice before. It made the whole ordeal more harrowing and unreal. “Is Todoroki-san not coming with us?” you asked.

“He’ll be in the car right in front of us. Don’t worry, ma’am.” You usher closed the door and entered the driver’s side of the vehicle. He was a smooth driver, which helped with the nervous bubbles in your stomach that refused to calm down.

Free college, you had to remind yourself. This really was an incredible offer. You hadn’t even let it sink in until you were alone in the backseat of the Tesla, only accompanied by your usher and the light classical music that played on the radio. You would be able to go to any school you wanted to, free of charge. You couldn’t help the giddy smile that played its way onto your lips. This felt like a dream you were scared to wake up from.

“We’re here,” your usher said. Looking out your window, you saw that he had pulled up in front of a tall building reaching more stories than you could count. He opened the door for you and you stepped out into the cool, early morning breeze.

Enji Todoroki had also stepped out of his vehicle and gestured for you to follow him. The wind tickled your legs and you hugged the trench coat tight against your figure. He led you into the lavish building where one of the receptionists handed you a small paper cup of coffee. You were then brought to the elevators where you, Enji Todoroki, and your usher brought you up to one of the tops floors.

The elevator ride felt like it lasted forever. Your hands gripped the coffee cup and shaky lips sipped the beverage as Enji Todoroki talked your ear off. You knew that the receptionist gave you the drink because she figured you would be tired, but you were sure that your nerves would keep you awake regardless of the caffeine.

“I called my son in for an early meeting so he should be here.”

You nodded at the man’s words. This was really happening.

“And if he refuses to show up then we will provide a room for your lodging until he arrives.”

So you would be camping out here until the deed was done. A thought popped into your head, one that hadn’t even come to mind when you were given the offer. “What if he doesn’t want to have sex with me?” you asked.

Enji Todoroki paused. He didn’t really know what to say. “Knowing my son, he will.” As if that was supposed to give you any reassurance. “But on the off chance that he doesn’t, we will still compensate you for your time here.”

But no free college. The thought lingered in your mind. Of course you were doing this for the perks. You wanted to be able to make the most out of your young adulthood and part of that meant furthering your education. But you were still scared shitless by the bright fluorescent lights of the building as the grand elevator doors opened up on your destination.

“Wait outside the door,” Enji Todoroki directed at your usher, and you assumed you were supposed to wait with him. He led you through the halls and stopped at a door that's placard read “Touya Todoroki.”

You leaned against the wall and downed the rest of your coffee.

“I can take your empty cup for you, ma’am,” your usher said with a bright smile.

You smiled back and shaky hands dropped the empty paper cup in his own. You needed to stop shaking so much, but you didn’t think you could if you tried.

You could hear Enji Todoroki’s authoritative voice from outside the door and another one, you presumed him son. He sounded bratty, from what you picked up on their conversation. The more you picked up on it, the more nauseous you felt. “Is there a–”

“Bathroom?” your usher finished for you. “Right around the corner. But I would make it quick.”

At least he had a friendly smile that put you at ease. If this person you were supposed to sleep with was anything like him then maybe you wouldn’t mind it, but you had a feeling that was not going to be the case.

You stumbled into the bathroom and untied the trenchcoat, letting it fall to your ankles. You pulled your panties down and sat on the toilet, relieving your bladder. Your legs trembled. Not even you placing your hands over your thighs could stop them. A chill ran up your spine. How long had you been in there? No, you just sat down. Not much time had passed. But you should get back quickly. Enji Todoroki and his son, Touya, would be waiting.

By the time you got back to your usher, they were still arguing in Touya’s room? Office? You weren’t sure whether or not it was a bed or a desk behind the closed door.

“You’re just in time,” your usher said. “Any minute now.”

He had probably been working for Todoroki Enterprises, Enji Todoroki specifically, for a long time, because as soon as he said that, his boss’s booming voice called for him.

“Yamamoto,” he said, “bring her in.”

Your usher, Yamamoto, opened the door to Touya’s office and you tentatively stepped in. The office was spacious. A cluttered desk sat center in the room. On the other side there was a small couch facing a flat screen TV, although you couldn’t see the screen from where you stood.

And then, there was Touya. A young man with dyed black hair and white roots springing up from the center of his head looked your way. He was quite attractive. He had a much more lean figure compared to his father. He wore a tight fitting black dress shirt that accentuated his muscles, but what really set him apart from anyone you had ever seen was his face. Beautiful teal eyes, much like his fathers, stared back at you. The piercings in his nose and over his lips reflected the light from overhead. He would have to be one of the most attractive men you’ve ever seen.

“What is this,” he asked. “Another marriage arrangement?”

“No,” Enji, you think you know him well enough by now to start referring to him by just his first name, sighed. “This is not a marriage arrangement. After all, you threw aside the last twelve options I’ve given you.” He seemed to mumble the last part. He cleared his throat and spoke again. “I have hired her to take care of any of your...needs, and in return I expect you to finally pick up your slack and take part in this company.”

Touya scoffed. “So what is she then? A hooker?”

You felt incredibly out of place, and you averted your eyes to the dark hardwood floors you were standing on. “I’m not a hooker,” you mumbled.

“What was that, sweetheart? I couldn’t really hear you.” Touya snickered as you flinched at the nickname.

“Touya, I expect you to treat her with dignity and respect while you two are enacting in your...activities.” Enji turned to Yamamoto and nodded. “With that settled, I will leave you two alone.”

He and Yamamoto walked out the door and left. That was it? He wasn’t going to assure your safety any more than that? You were left alone in a strange room with this man you didn’t know who you were supposed to fuck. And you were completely and utterly defenseless.

You wish you still had that pepper spray Mina handed you. You’re pretty sure you left it on her desk when you had your initial chat with Enji. If only you had thought ahead enough to remember to bring it with you.

“So what’s your name, doll?” Touya, who was now on the couch, asked. His cheek rested on his fist and a lazy expression was splayed across his face.

“(Y/n),” you said, turning to look at him.

“That your first name?”

You nodded.

He chuckled. “So, what did my old man pay you to do this for me? A hundred k? Two hundred?”

“Free college tuition.”

His eyes widened. “Wow. He must really want me to start taking part in this company.” Leaning back. He patted his lap. “Why don’t you come over and take a seat, sweetheart.”

You didn’t want to comply, but your legs moved on their own as they walked towards him. Your butt found its place sitting on his lap and you pretended not to notice his semi erect cock pushing into your cheeks.

“Aren’t you a little obedient one,” he teased. One of his hands rubbed down your exposed thigh and up your trench coat. He thumbed over the collar of the coat. “So are you gonna take this off for me, or do I have to be the one to take it off you?”

You shuddered and he chuckled at how nervous he made you. Touya emanated so much warmth but even under the trench coat you had never felt so cold.

“Lemme guess, this is your first time whoring yourself out?” He grinned like the fucking cheshire cat as you squeezed your eyes shut out of embarrassment. “Nothing to be ashamed of,” he said with a cocky grin. His thumbs trailed up to the tie on your coat and his fingers pulled it open. “And I gotta admit.” He pulled the sides of the coat off and let it fall off of your shoulders onto the couch. “My dad has got my type pegged down to the nail.”

You were now fully exposed to the man in front of you. Your black bra accentuated your bosom and if it weren’t for the end of the trench coat you were still sitting on, you would have been able to feel the rough material of Touya’s slacks rutting against your ass.

He leaned down to lick a long stripe against the skin peeking out of your bra. “Although I wouldn’t have pegged you as someone who is this compliant.” His hands traveled further up until his fingers were wrapped around your panties, tugging at the elastic keeping them up. He moved up to pepper kisses up your neck, and you let out a sharp gasp when he bit your ear lobe.

“Sorry,” you mumbled when he stopped to let out a laugh.

He moved you off his lap so you were sitting next to him. “You’re not used to this. I get it.”

And you let out a sigh of relief at hearing those words. He was less scary then you thought he’d be. His kisses were gentle up until he bit you and the way he stroked his fingers up and down your exposed skin was comforting in a way.

But just as soon as you began to relax, his eyes narrowed with an evil tint. His hand reached down to unbuckle his pants. “So let's start with you getting on your knees to suck at my cock, shall we?”

Your body was frozen. His demeanor changed in an instant. You didn’t know what to do.

“Come on, doll. I don’t like asking twice.” Now, his hand was making its way up and down his dick. It was bigger than any you had seen before, not that you had seen many to compare it to to begin with.

You stood up from the couch and made your way in front of him, bracing your hands on his thighs as you lowered yourself down.

“That’s it. Now why don’t you pick it up and give it a few good strokes.” He guided your hand towards his dick and stroked it with your soft palm. It took a few strokes before you managed to get a hold of the rhythm. “That’s it. Now why don’t you give the tip a little kiss, hmm?”

Give it a kiss? You didn’t know how to put your feelings in words. His dick was impressive in length and width. There was a series of piercings lining the underside and the thought of them inside of you made you squirm. You leaned your head down and gave the tip a kiss.

Touya smirked. “That’s a good girl. Now open your mouth, sweetheart.”

You parted your lips slightly only to have him grip your hair and shove your head down against his length. You gagged and tears sprung out of your reddening eyes as you tried to push up for your release.

“Come on, sweetheart. Don’t you want that free tuition? If you want it, you gotta earn it.”

Gripping onto his shaft with one free hand, you hollowed your cheeks and tightened the shape of your mouth.

As he hesitantly loosened his grip on the back of your head, you realized what kind of person he was. He liked to be in control at all times, he’s the kind of person to take what he wants, and you knew that the act of him giving you gentle kisses not even five minutes earlier was just a facade.

Running your tongue up his pierced dick wasn’t as horrid as you thought it would be. You almost smiled at the sharp inhale he took when you swirled your tongue around the tip and lowered yourself onto him fully, using one of your hands to grip his balls and the other to keep your balance against him.

Breathe through your nose, you had to remind yourself.

The soft grunts that Touya made and the way he squeezed your ass may have gone over your head. Especially when he snuck his fingers under your panties and began to prod at your little asshole with his middle finger.

It took you by surprise, and you almost clamped your teeth around his cock out of shock.

“Easy easy,” he said, lifting your head off of his member. He took a moment to stare at your ruined face. Drool and slobber spilled down your chin and your makeup, which had been slowly rubbing off throughout the night, was completely gone as your tears had dragged it across your cheeks. “Look at you, you fucking whore.”

He’s right. You were a whore, selling your body for free education. What was wrong with you? And what was wrong with him getting off on this?

You wanted to speak up, but he beat you to it. “Why don’t you bend over the couch, sweetheart. I’ll show you what guys like me do to little whores like you.”

You hated how you could feel a rush of pleasure between your thighs at his words. Nevertheless, you obediently made your way over to the arm of the couch as he stood up, and you leaned over it so your ass was in the air and stomach was pressed flat against the cushy material.

Touya ran his hands over the fabric of your panties before ripping them off, tearing them to shreds. “Don’t worry about it, doll. I’ll buy you a new pair.”

He fucking better. Lace briefs are expensive for how little skin they cover. But your thoughts on the prices of various pieces of lingerie were pushed out of your mind when you felt something wet prodding at your exposed cunny. His tongue pushed past your folds and lips sucked around your clit.

Your hips pushed into the side of the couch and he snickered at how much he was affecting you. He slipped his thumb into your hole and you squeezed around the digit. “You’re so tight. I’d have expected you to be a bit more worn out.” The pads of his fingered rubbed quick little circles into your clit as his tongue dragged up to flicker against your bumhole, which fluttered against his touch. “Never had anything up here before?”

You shook your head vigorously against the couch and squirmed around as he ate out your ass with the full intent to make you cum. His fingers picked up the pace and if you didn’t have the couch to support you, you were sure you’d collapse into a heap onto the floor. You were edging closer to your orgasm, so close, so damn close, and then he pulled away.

Touya removed his thumb from inside your hole and sucked it clean. He laughed as you mumbled something about being close to cumming, but you shut up when you heard him tossing his shirt aside and dragging his pants further down his thighs. “I gotta say, after every shitty thing my dad has done to me, I gotta thank him. This is the best present he’s ever gotten me after all.”

You didn’t have time to think about what he just said as he lined his dick up between your cheeks and slid it up and down, gathering up his saliva and bits of your vaginal juices. He wasn’t planning on shoving his whole dick up your ass, was he? You didn’t think you’d be able to take that without any lube, or at least without anything other than spit.

It was almost as if he was so in tune with your body that he could hear your thoughts. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I won’t stick anything too big up there for now.”

For now? What did that mean?

He lined up his tip with your entrance and carefully pushed his way in. He thought to himself that he’d always remember the way you cried out in pain and pleasure as he snapped his hips forward once the tip was snuggly in place.

The way his piercing rubbed against your insides caused your toes to curl. Chills ran up your back and Touya rubbed a large palm over your spine to ease some of the pain.

He was raw and merciless as he pushed your head down into the couch cushions and thrusted into you at an alarming rate. You barely had time to catch your breath as he pushed balls deep inside of you.

Touya inched one of his fingers inside your tight little back hole to the first knuckle, and curled the digit up and down as you squeezed around him. He continued to push further and further in until you let out a sob of pleasure and the pace of his thrusts quickened.

Your body felt so hot yet so cold as you were pushed back and forth against the couch. It wasn’t long before you felt your orgasm build up again, but this time Touya didn’t stop. He wormed his finger around and continued thrusting into you until he felt you squeeze against him and your fluids gush out around him.

You laid limp against the couch as he pulled his finger out of your back hole and gripped both of your hips, continuing to thrust at a hard and fast pace until he came inside of you.

There was a moment of eire silence between the two of you as he settled down and pulled his cock out. You could hear him shuffling over to the other end of the room and typing something on his phone. “Yamamoto should be up with a towel to clean you up soon.”

You let out a groan of acknowledgement and sat up. Your body was still shaky, but not with nerves. You felt as though you had been thoroughly recked.

Touya couldn’t help but laugh at how pathetic you looked. “Was it worth the free college, babe?” he chided.

“Yeah,” you smiled to yourself. “Yeah it was.”

His smirk grew wider and a more devious glint in his eyes appeared. “Good. Now next time, let’s see if we can get something a little bigger in that back hole of yours.”

Your smile dropped and you could feel any contents in your belly churning around. “Next time?”

“What,” his eyes lowered in amusement. “You didn’t think this was a one time thing, did you? If you want that free college then you gotta earn it, doll.” He made big strides over to where you sat on the couch and gripped your chin, making sure you were staring into his bright teal and devious eyes as he spoke. “That was the best fuck I’ve had in weeks. I’m not planning on throwing you away any time soon, sweetheart.”

[lillywillow]

Birthday Wishes

Summary: Bucky wants to plan the best party ever for his young daughter

 Word Count: 2430

 Square Filled: Free Space

 Pairings: Singledad!Bucky x Female Reader/ Steve x Peggy

 Warnings: None really

 Written for @star-spangled-bingo

Ever since the mother to Bucky’s daughter passed away when she was a baby, he had been totally devoted to her and every year on her birthday, he went all out trying to make it the best one ever.

 About a month ago, Tony’s daughter Morgan had a mermaid themed party; complete with a woman dressed as a mermaid. Bucky’s daughter Rebecca had totally raved about it and with her own birthday coming up, he made a note to take one of the business cards with him.

...

 The moment Bucky walked into the building, he was in awe. The front of the store was full of costumes, dolls, plushies, pirate treasure chests, fairy wings and wands... every kind of fantasy item a child could possibly want and a lot of it looked handmade. Out the back, he could hear squealing and laughter. A party in progress, perhaps?

 “Good afternoon, welcome to Childhood Dreams. How may I help you?” the receptionist asked.

 “Hi. I’m looking to book a party? It’s for my daughter...”

 “I see. Well, before booking a party, you’ll need to make an appointment with Y/N. She likes to customise her parties to the client. She’s currently doing a performance but if you’re happy to wait, she’ll be done soon...”

 “I can wait...”

 “Great. Follow me please...”

 Bucky followed the receptionist into the back. There was a pirate party taking place with all the children dressed up as pirates. There were props and decorations keeping in tone with the theme and an incredible cake. On the stage up the front was the same woman who had played the part of the mermaid at Morgan’s party, this time she was a pirate, enacting a mighty swordfight with another actor. She really put her all into the performance.

 Bucky watched her for a moment before the receptionist pulled him along and guided him to an office along the side. The inside of the office was just as cheerful and childlike as the rest of the place. The desk was lined with small trinkets. Along the walls were various photographs of the woman in different costumes. A princess, a fairy, a friendly witch... there was a costume for every occasion. Bucky was in the middle of admiring them when the door opened and the subject from the photos stepped in.

 “You must be the gentleman wanting a party,” she smiled, taking off her hat and eye patch before sitting at her desk and encouraging him to take a seat. “I’m Y/N.”

 “Yes, that’s right. My name is Bucky and I’m looking to do a birthday party for my daughter Rebecca,” he said, getting his phone out to show her a picture.

 Y/N smiled at the photo of the little girl who was dressed as a princess.

 “Tell me about Rebecca. I take it she’s a princess fan?”

 Bucky’s face lit up as he spoke about his little girl. Everything that she loved about princesses and fairytales, down to her favourite colours, animals and mythical creatures.

 “I’m probably rambling now...”

 “No, no, I think it’s sweet to see a father so dedicated to his daughter. Let me show you a few of our packages,” she smiled.

 Y/N logged into her tablet to show him a few of the princess themed parties they offered. Bucky looked through the options before deciding on a fantasy type one with princesses, wizards and all things in that vein.

 “Will you be having the party here or elsewhere?”

 “I think home would be best... unless... here would be better? I don’t know...”

 “Some children feel more comfortable on home base and some like going out. It’s really up to you. My job is to give your child the best possible experience...”

 Bucky nodded slowly and thought.

 “She might like a party in her own backyard...”

 “That’s totally fine. I’ll need to visit ahead of time just so I can work on a setup. Now, will you be providing your own cake? If not, I can recommend an excellent bakery.”

 “A family friend agreed to make the cake,” Bucky replied.

 Y/N nodded and jotted down a few notes.

 “What about food?”

 “Yes, we’ll be making our own food too.”

 Y/N nodded again and wrote down a few more notes. After agreeing on a price, a date and time to meet, his address and the date of the party, Bucky started heading out the door.

 “One more thing...”

 Bucky turned to look at her.

 “I like to ask our clients how they found out about our business...”

 “A while ago, you threw a mermaid party for a friend of mine’s daughter. Rebecca couldn’t stop talking about it for days after that...”

 Y/N smiled fondly.

 “I see... well, I guess I’ll see you when I come to do my inspection. Goodbye, Bucky.”

 “Bye.”

 As Bucky left the office, he could feel his heart fluttering like it hadn’t done in a long time. Ever since his wife’s passing, Bucky hadn’t even looked at another woman. Well, he had looked but he had always been so busy taking care of Rebecca, he didn’t really have time to be pursuing women. Sure on occasion, he would go on a blind date now and then and Steve would babysit but that would be the extent of it. Bucky thought for sure his dating life was over but talking to Y/N just now... it gave him a lot of hope.

...

 Time went by and eventually the day arrived when you went to meet Bucky at his place. Bucky greeted you at the door with a smile and ushered you inside. Smiling, you looked around the place. Pictures of Bucky’s life lined the walls and shelves. Photos of him with friends but most of them were of his little girl. One thing you noticed was the lack of pictures of the girl’s mother. There were a few of her before having the child but not many after.

 “So, um... what do you need to see?”

 “You mentioned a backyard?” you said, referring back to the interview you had a few days ago.

 Bucky nodded and showed you the way. First, you scoped out the best place to conduct your performance then took out your measuring tape to size up the props you might need. As you worked, Bucky could see the gears turning in your head.

 “Do you go out to different locations a lot?” Bucky asked, trying to strike up a conversation.

 “Not a lot but it’s always fun when we do.”

 “How long have you been in business?”

 “It’s taken me about ten years to get it off the ground. It’s only been gaining popularity in the last year or so...”

 “Wait, so you own Childhood Dreams?”

 “Sure do. You see, I always believed childhood should be about fun and games before going onto the drudgery of adulthood. And I help out local business in the process. Most of the items available for purchase were made by local artists. I’m always willing to lend a hand when they need it. That’s why I ask about food. There’s a small bakery a few blocks from the building we’re located who does the most beautiful cakes...”

 You suddenly were interrupted by something brushing up against your leg. Looking down, you saw the most adorable white cat.

 “Why, hello there. Aren’t you a cutie?” you cooed, bending down to pat the snowy feline.

 “This is Alpine. Rebecca is just crazy about her. She’s been a really big help ever since...” Bucky paused, feeling a lump in his throat and tears well up in his eyes.

 Alpine trotted over to him and purred as he picked her up.

 “Sorry. It’s just... ever since my wife passed when Rebecca was a baby; I’ve wanted to give her the best life possible. I try to give equal amounts of time between her so she can look up to me and work so she has the best things in life...”

 You went over and gave him a hug.

 “You’re a good man, Bucky. I’ve been in this business long enough to tell the devoted parents from the off-standers. Just by spending a few minutes with you, I already know that you love your daughter and think the world of her. Just make sure you spend a few moments taking care of yourself, okay? It doesn’t have to be much, just enough so you feel good too.”

 Bucky gave you a soft smile, knowing that you were right. Everyone had told him as such but sometimes, it’s harder to take advice from the people closest to you.

 “Can I get you anything to drink?” he offered.

 “Actually, I should get going. I’ve got a children’s charity event I need to get ready for. It’s been really nice seeing you again, Bucky. I guess the next time I see you will be for your daughter’s party.”

 “See you then,” Bucky smiled.

 He couldn’t wait for the party.

...

 Finally, the day of Rebecca’s birthday arrived. Bucky had spent the night before busily transforming his humble home into a castle fit for a princess. He wanted everything to be perfect for his little girl’s special day, buying the most glittery, ruffled princess dress for her to wear, complete with a sparkly tiara. Bucky himself hired a prince costume and even managed to obtain a kitty sized dragon costume for Alpine.

 Bucky spent the morning cooking, starting with a plate of pancakes for breakfast before moving onto the finishing touches on the food for the party. He had most of it prepared already but some of it needed heating.

 The first to arrive was Wanda with her twin boys who were both in costume. The boys instantly ran over to play with Rebecca while Wanda was left holding the cake she had made along with her purse and the present she had bought. Bucky rushed over to help her with the items and after exchanging greetings and pleasantries, she showed his the cake.

 It was everything Bucky could have ever hoped for and more. The cake was purple with ice cream cones decorated like castle turrets, topped with little princess and unicorn figurines and the words ‘Happy Birthday, Rebecca’ written in icing along with the age she was turning. Little pink flowers were piped along the sides.

 “Thank you so much, Wanda. Becca’s just going to love it.”

 “You’re welcome,” she smiled, giving him a hug.

 Soon after Wanda’s arrival was Steve and Peggy with their child followed by Tony, Pepper and Morgan, Sam with his kid and it wasn’t long before all the party guests had arrived. The adults all mingled while the children played together happily. Right on time, Y/N arrived with her scene partner in full costume. She was wearing a knight costume while her partner (whom she introduced as Phil) was dressed as an ‘evil’ wizard. Bucky settled the kids in front of the makeshift stage and let the performance begin.

 Y/N started by introducing herself as a knight dedicated to Princess Rebecca.

 “That’s me!” Rebecca squealed in delight, jumping to her feet and clapping.

 Y/N knelt down to be level with her, crossing her right arm over her chest in a salute.

 “I vow to protect you from the evils of the kingdom.”

 Suddenly, Phil jumped out of his hiding place.

 “Mwa-ha-ha! I am an evil wizard and I am here to change all the cakes into broccoli!”

 Bucky thought he was laying it on a little thick but there was a wave of horrified gasps from the kids.

 “Not so fast, evil wizard! We will defeat you! Kids, if I’m going to beat him, I’m going to need your help...”

 Y/N and Phil made an amazing pair. While Y/N encouraged the children and even a few of the parents to join in, Phil played off their reactions until he was ‘defeated’.

 “You win! I will change my evil ways and use my powers for good!” he dramatically cried.

 The children all cheered and clapped. The two actors took a bow and started to pack up as Bucky announced it was time for cake. The kids all raced over to where the cake was being brought out.

 “Would you two like to stay for cake?” Bucky offered.

 Phil looked at Y/N for permission, a hopeful glint in his eye.

 “Sure. We have some time before our next appointment,” she smiled. Phil gave a big, childlike grin.

 Once everyone had sung Happy Birthday to Rebecca and she had blown out the candles, the cake was served out. Steve approached Bucky.

 “Hey, man. How are you doing?”

 “A bit tired but seeing the smile on that little girl’s face makes it all worth it,” he softly sighed.

 Steve followed Bucky’s gaze to where Rebecca was talking animatedly to Y/N. He could tell the smile on her face was genuine and not just for show. This was a person who loved their job and loved children.

 “Is that the same Y/N you’ve been going on about all week?”

 “I haven’t been talking about her that much...”

 Steve gave him an incredulous look.

 “You know, it’s okay to like her. Why don’t you ask her out?”

 “What about Rebecca?”

 “Peggy and I can look after her while you go out on date. You deserve to be happy too...”

 Bucky thought about it for a while and headed over to Y/N and Rebecca.

 “Daddy, daddy! Y/N was the mermaid at Morgan’s party! She’s magical...” Rebecca was absolutely smitten with the woman.

 “I see... Can I talk Y/N alone for a minute? Then you can open presents,” he smiled.

 Rebecca giggled and hugged his leg before running off to play with her friends.

 “She’s a darling,” Y/N warmly smiled.

 “She is... Listen, Y/N... I was wondering... if you’re not busy tomorrow night... if maybe you’d like to have dinner with me...”

 “Like a date?”

 Bucky’s face flushed.

 “I mean, if you want it to be...”

 Y/N kissed his cheek.

 “I’d like that. How about 7:00 at the restaurant around the from the Childhood Dreams building. They do an amazing meal...”

 “Sounds perfect,” he smiled.

 This was one the best days of Bucky’s life. Not only did he pull off the perfect party for his daughter but he took a step back into the dating world with an incredible woman who somehow stole his heart.