#lemme know what else to add if things are needed because it is late for me and my brain is functionally dead

[asktauros]

Tucker stumbles a bit and looks around shocked, he was too lost in thought to process that the game had started again Olive: Silver!! That wasn't very nice!

Silver: I SAID "heads up"! What else do you want me to do!! Olive gives Silver a angry pout expression and the bull returns the expression mockingly Copper moves closer to the fence, trying to peer over at Tucker Copper: A-are... are you o-okay Tucker? Tucker: Huh y.. yeah! Yeah I'm... Tucker looks around for a moment, his eyes readjusting to the area around him Copper:... M-maybe you n-need a break? Silver: Aww come on! The game JUST restarted!

Tucker: N-No! I'm.. I'm fine! I just... was... thinking... i-is all.. Silver lets out a overdramatic gasp Silver: YOU CAN THINK?! Olive tosses some grass clippings over at Silver in response Tucker shakes his head from side to side, as if trying to shake the memory from his mind. He grabs the apricorn and faces the others again Tucker: I'm ready again! Olive and Silver cheer in response and return to their positions Copper gives Tucker a concerned expression, but soon returns to their spot for the game to continue

-- -- -- -- [ the talk of the Dogs earlier seemed to have stirred some bad memories for Tucker... But he's fine now... ]

[ The children are continuing their game ]

[thesvnandthemooon]

𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐬

18+ MINORS DNI

a/n: again, a request :)

summary: delivery driver!nat, artist!reader (not part of the request, but i decided to add it anyway), g!p nat

warnings: brief smut (handjob), implied sex, forgetting to eat (not sure if this needs to be a warning but i’m adding it anyway), mildly creepy behavior but only if you squint

word count: 7k

part 1, part 2

✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷ ✷

Hands splattered with yellow paint. A white overall. Messy hair and the smell of turpentine mixing with some expensive perfume.

Mundane things, but she won't be able to get them out of her head.

Natasha never knows what kind of people she's going to run into while doing late-night deliveries and, frankly, she usually doesn't care. All she wants is the money and maybe a solid tip — that's it. She does it for the extra cash, not because she's desperate for even more social interactions.

She's been doing this for a while now. Being a car mechanic at a small shop, her salary is far from sufficient. The $20 an hour don't stretch far, barely manage to fully cover her rent, so she decided to pick up a few extra shifts at night. Bless DoorDash for making those quite flexible as well, otherwise she'd probably be living in the streets now.

Again, she doesn't care who her customers are. She meets all kinds of people like this, and she's seen everything from teenage boys ordering Chick-fil-A for their 2am-gaming sessions to lesser known celebrities who can't be bothered to cook. Alcoholics and single dads, college students and people who just got home from partying. In the end, their faces will all be a blur, anyway.

Your name doesn't stand out when she accepts the delivery. All Natasha notices is that she's never delivered to this address before — a somewhat remote area, up on a hill, no neighbors and nothing to do. She doesn't question what kind of person would live in a place like that, even though she maybe should. What she also should do (but doesn't) is worry about driving up there by herself. It's the middle of the night, nobody else lives up there, and the cabin looks as run-down as it does abandoned.

When the motorcycle's headlights die down, so does the last source of light she has. All the house's windows are closed and dark. Judging by the looks of it, she's delivering food to ghosts.

Natasha swings her leg off the motorcycle and grabs the paper bag from the little top-box. She notices the residual grease on her hands a second too late, but decides it isn't important. The paper bag is full of stains either way.

Once she steps on the porch, a tiny light turns on. It flickers pathetically, barely holding on at this point, but provides enough light for Natasha to see your face when you open the door.

Doe eyes and paint on your cheeks, hair pulled back carelessly. Hands that look like they have enough color on them to make even the grayest days a little more colorful. Suddenly, she regrets not taking a closer look at your name. She would've remembered.

"DoorDash", she says, holding out the paper bag.

"Right!", you say, face lighting up and eyes turning more lively. Natasha feels her thoughts falter. "Totally forgot. Lemme just-"

You turn and, just like that, disappear in the darkness of the house. Natasha pauses, still holding onto your order, before snapping out of it. She glances into the hallway and tries to locate a single source of light, but finds nothing.

That is, until you seem to appear out of thin air again. She flinches slightly.

"Thanks", you say, wiping your hands on a rag. "Had trouble finding your way up here? I know one guy who got lost in the forest. Somehow managed to take the wrong exit. Never saw that pizza."

"No, no issues", she mumbles, handing you the food and stuffing her hands into the pockets of her jacket. "It's dark in there."

"Oh, yeah." You nod and grab her hand. She stares at you, stunned, and then you smear the rag on the back of her hand. The streak of paint that's left behind glows faintly. "Glow-in-the-dark paint!"

"Seriously?"

"Looks great, doesn't it? I wanted to paint my bathroom with that, but decided against it."

Natasha hums, looking at the paint again. Her eyes meet yours. You give her an expectant look, as if you're waiting for something she can't place. All she's doing is deliver your food, after all. But you keep staring, so she shakes her head.

Enough. She has at least half a dozen more deliveries to get through before she can call it a night.

"Okay", she says, slowly, and steps back. "Well, uhm, enjoy your food."

You nod, already tearing open the bag of fast food and grabbing a fry. "Don't get lost on your way back."

She glances at you, seeming a little distracted. Then she nods and waves absently, already on her way to her motorcycle. The door closes behind her, a soft thud that cuts through the quiet of the night, and she tracks the vehicle where she left it.

It's an old, beat-up thing, but it's reliable. It gets her where she needs to be, it allows her to earn some extra money. She's thankful for her Harley, she really is. But in that moment, when she's hopping on her old Sportster and grabbing the handlebars, she wishes it wasn't the reason she's able to leave again.

. . .

Can doing what you love make you starve?

Maybe. Possibly. Actually? Pretty damn likely. That's your conclusion after working on a few new projects made you forget about eating for almost an entire day.

Aside from a bowl of Cheerios in the morning, topped with a bunch of sugar, you haven't eaten anything all day. Instead, you've been mixing colors and washing paintbrushes and filling your sketchbook. Doodles on walls and paper scraps on the floor, paint in your hair and a pencil between your teeth. One foot resting on the edge of your seat, you tug at the straps of your overall. The color on your fingernails isn't nail polish — it's paint.

You lean forward and inspect the little sketch again. At this point, you're not even sure what this is going to be. Another scrap? A comic strip? No way to know until you're at least halfway there. Maybe you won't know even then.

Music is making the floors vibrate. In front of you are a couple of cups. Some contain tea, others water you've been cleaning your paintbrushes with. You glance at them and resist the urge to take another leap of faith. You've had one too many sips of murky, paint-infused regret.

You turn toward the sketch again, but your stomach rumbling distracts you from the thick lines of charcoal and graphite. You sigh and shift, trying to ignore it and get back into that creative, pulsating headspace again, but it's no use. Your body is hungry.

As usual, you're not in the mood to cook. You're working, and you're scared of getting into another creative block, so you open the DoorDash app and order one of your favorites.

When Natasha looks at her phone, it's not just your name that stands out. It's the address. It brings back images of vines on the sides and tangling around porch railings, winding dirt paths, paint on the back of her hand and a heart that won't stop thrumming.

There's been a lot of this over the past few weeks. At first, it was just a coincidence — due to you ordering food at the most ungodly hours, not many drivers are available. Natasha is one of the few who are desperate enough to work past midnight. Just bad timing, in the end. Or good, depending on how you look at it.

Then, it started to feel like more. She's not sure why, or how, but it did.

It was the same for you. After a few nights of being too distracted and sleep-deprived to notice anything, you finally caught onto the fact that, hey, you'd been getting the same driver over and over again. And hey, you like that driver, and it's not just some case of classical conditioning due to the yummy food, but actually more than just that.

Natasha noticed as well. And now, seeing your name and address on the screen, your order up for grabs, she taps on 'accept delivery'.

The route to your house is familiar by now. The lack of light doesn't disrupt her ability to find her way to your porch anymore. The paper bag in her hands has ceased to merely be a way to earn more money.

You open the door and, as basically always, give her that slightly absent smile you tend to sport. Eyes just a little distant, like you're constantly chasing some cloud of thought in your head, and hands and cheeks smudged with some kind of art medium — charcoal, paint, ink. Natasha can't help but stare, her own forearms oil-smudged but concealed by her jacket.

"Hey", she eventually says, holding out the paper bag. "Your food."

"You were quick this time", you say, grabbing the bag and putting it aside. "No traffic? Or were you just that eager to get here?"

"A bit of both", she says. She's leaning against the doorframe, arms crossed. "You do tip quite generously."

You hum, eyes subtly tracing along her arms. They're hidden by her leather jacket, but you can tell she gets some sort of physical exercise. Workouts or something. Maybe manual labor. Whatever it is — it's working.

"Driving into the middle of bumfuck nowhere should have its perks."

"Oh, I can think of a few."

You shoot her a quick smile. "Hm", you say, briefly glancing into the hallway. Natasha follows your gaze and spots a half-finished painting. She decides not to comment on it, but the colors distract her for a moment. "So...any more deliveries tonight?"

"Huh? Oh, yes." Natasha nods, spinning her keys around her pointer finger. "Still got to get through a couple."

Tilting your head, you let your eyes linger. She tilts her head right back at you, but much more subtly. The air between you heats up, despite the chilly October air seeping into the hallway. Sparks fly and bodies subconsciously move closer. Just a tiny, harmless step. Nothing to worry about.

"Pity. I was going to offer you a fry", you say, peeling some dried paint off your thumb. "But I can't keep you from your adoring customers, can I?"

"Probably not", Natasha agrees, pushing off the doorframe and taking a step back again. It's getting late, and she needs to get her ass back on her motorcycle. Flirting with a customer probably isn't the smartest move, either. "Though 'adoring' isn't exactly a word I'd use for them."

"Why not?", you say, watching her walk back to her motorcycle. A black, rugged thing that makes perfect sense for her. "You're always on time."

"Maybe that's only your experience", she counters. "Like you said — eager to get here."

You lift your eyebrows. Natasha sits on the old Harley and lets the engine roar, a sound that cuts through the quiet night sharply. You can barely see her, that's how dark it is outside. But then the motorcycle's headlights come on and you feel your heartbeat quicken.

"Drive safe", you call out once you've pulled yourself together.

"Always do", she calls back.

As she drives off, you can't help but wonder whether it's still just a coincidence at this point.

. . .

There's a thin line between being romantic and being a creep.

You may or may not have been toeing that very line.

Ever since noticing Natasha works the night shifts, you started ordering food later and later. It went from 11pm to midnight, then to half past midnight. 1am followed, then quarter past.

Why? To allow her to linger.

What you don't know is that Natasha's been doing the same. Maybe even worse. She scans the orders, looking for yours. She doesn't even think about it anymore — it's just instinct.

With each delivery, she stays longer. Stalls. She lingers in the doorway, her voice hushed and raspy, silently trying to figure out what colors you used based on the stains on your hands and face.

And with each delivery, you become more used to seeing her. It turns into a routine, something normal. Like waking up to the movie posters taped to your bedroom ceiling and listening to the owls at night, you start to expect it. That shows a few weeks later, when Natasha pops up to deliver your birria tacos.

"Where were you yesterday?", you ask, sleepy and groggy, and grab the greasy paper bag. She lifts her eyebrows.

"You didn't order anything yesterday."

You pause and look up, blinking slowly. It's nearly 2am, and you really need to sleep. But you've been up, waiting to order something and have Natasha deliver it.

"You sure?"

She smiles faintly. "Didn't see your name anywhere. I'm pretty sure, yes."

"Oh." Your face falls and you scratch your cheek. The dried watercolor on it is irritating your skin. "I think I forgot about dinner, then."

"That's concerning."

You wave your hand dismissively. "Happens all the time", you say. "Maybe I need someone to remind me."

Natasha stops in her tracks when you give her an expectant look. There's no way you're serious, right?

But you are. You grab your phone and hand it to her. She looks at the screen, smudged and cracked, before glancing at you again.

"You deliver my food all the time, anyway", you argue, ignoring her soft sigh. "Why not cut out the middleman? Much more practical."

"And the reminding you-thing?", she asks, already typing in her number.

"That was a joke."

"It didn't sound like one. Here." She hands you your phone back and crosses her arms. You tuck the device into the pocket of your overall. "For emergencies, right?"

"Of course", you say, smiling. The exhaustion seems to have disappeared from your face.

It's a lie, and you both know it, but Natasha can't find it in herself to care.

. . .

"Seriously?"

"I ran out of charcoal."

"I had to drive all the way across town", she points out. "Plus, my number was supposed to be for emergencies only."

You lift your chin, silently challenging her. She doesn't seem too impressed, though, but the look in her eyes tells you she doesn't mind this as much as she pretends to.

"Food emergencies", she adds. "Not art emergencies."

"You still went and brought it."

Natasha only partially succeeds at biting back a half-frustrated, half-fond noise, and shoves the plastic bag into your arms.

The words do it yourself next time are on the tip of her tongue, but she doesn't utter them. God forbid she has to quit stopping by your house.

You peek into the bag and hum approvingly. Natasha watches you, first unmoving, then reaches out to touch the blue paint on your cheek. She swipes her thumb across it and smudges it further.

You look up, staring. She shrugs.

"Missed a spot."

"Very considerate", you say, lifting your hand to let your fingertips ghost across your cheek. Red and blue create purple.

Natasha shifts, but doesn't step away. Her eyes trace your face. You want her to stay, and she doesn't want to leave.

"No more bullshit", she adds. "Otherwise, I'll start expecting much bigger tips."

"You drive a hard bargain", you reply, cocking your head. "Can't promise anything, though."

She sighs, but the tiny smile betrays her. She can think of worse things than getting more excuses to see you.

"You're spoiled", she states. "How come you're always up this late, anyway? It's, like, 2am."

You shrug, turning on the spot and sauntering into the living room. Natasha, to your frustration, stays glued to her spot in the hallway.

"Can't sleep", you say, crouching in front of the large sheet of paper and tearing open the new charcoal. "Working on something."

She hums, trying to catch a glimpse of you and what you're doing. She can see the corner of a paper, covered in a bunch of comic strips. Then, you crawl forward on your knees and your head comes into view.

"I'm surprised I see no coffins in here."

"Huh?"

"You know. Always up at night, afraid of the sun."

You lift your head, momentarily puzzled — you're spacing out already, and you're sleep deprived, and this late, nothing seems to make sense. Then, the meaning behind her words registers.

"You're asking if I'm a vampire?", you say, sitting on your knees and wiping your face with the back of your hand. Natasha's lips twitch as she sees you smudge the charcoal there further.

"It'd make sense", she replies. "Now you're refusing to answer, too. Guess there must be something to it."

"Well", you say, wiping your hands on your overall, "let me bite you and find out."

Natasha malfunctions for a solid three seconds. Once she's gotten her bearings, she rolls her eyes and knocks on the wooden door. You look up from your project and tilt your head.

"Deliveries?"

"Yeah", she says. "Two more, then I'm done for tonight."

You nod, disappointed but not ready to argue. You get up and pad back into the hallway. You're not even sure why — she can find her way back outside by herself, obviously.

Natasha keeps her eyes on you. Her hands are in the pockets of her jeans, red strands of hair framing her face. She sees the charcoal on your bottom lip and wonders what kissing you would taste like.

"I'll text you", you say, rubbing your lip to get rid of the charcoal.

Emergencies only, she wants to say. She decides against it.

She steps back, adjusting her jacket. She should leave. She needs to leave. Somehow, she can't bring herself to. She just stands there, watching as you shift your weight from one foot to the other, the light from inside catching on the paint smudges along your collarbone.

"See you", she says, voice lower.

"Yeah", you mumble, eyes on her.

She finally forces herself to turn around and step outside. The cold night air cuts through her jacket, but she barely registers it. She swings one leg over the motorcycle and puts on her helmet, then waits.

You're still in the door, the golden light spilling out from inside framing your silhouette.

Natasha shakes her head and kicks the bike to life.

The roar of the engine fades into the night, and you close the door.

. . .

Having your motorcycle break down in the rain is less than ideal.

Natasha swings her leg off the bike, frustration etched into her features, and crouches down beside it. She filled up on gas right before leaving, so that can't be the issue. She checks the cables and wiring, inspects the spark plugs, takes a look at the battery. Once she's done that, she curses and kicks the tire.

The battery's dead. She's screwed.

Running her hand through her wet hair — of course she had to forget her helmet today —, she looks at your house in the distance. It's almost two more miles, and it's pouring rain, but she's got your In-N-Out order in the top-box and, truthfully, she‘s itching to see you.

She tries starting the bike one more time, even if it's hopeless. The battery's dead, which means the motorcycle isn't getting anywhere. Accepting her fate, she grabs the handlebars and starts pushing.

Wet hands slip on metal, rain drips down her face. Her jacket is soaked, as is her hoodie. Her boot briefly gets stuck in mud. Raindrops feel like dozens of tiny whips against her cheeks.

By the time she's gotten up the hill and to your house, half an hour has passed. She's soaked to the bone, dripping wet, out of breath, her arms hurting — and somehow, she doesn't care about any of that. She grabs the paper bag from the top-box and makes her way to your porch. Cold, reddened knuckles meet old wood.

You open the door and stare at her.

Drenched, out of breath, her once light gray hoodie now the shade of cracked pepper. Water drips from the red strands of hair that are framing her face. Clutching the takeout bag like it's life or death, her green eyes staring right back into yours.

For a moment, neither of you move.

When she lowers her gaze to the floor, a puddle forming on the wooden porch beneath her, you jump forward and cup her face.

Kissing her feels like second nature. Her lips are cold and wet when they press against yours. Her cheeks are cold, and she smells like a mixture of perfume and rain-soaked clothes.

You tug her inside, only pulling away slightly. She's still out of breath, but for a different reason now.

She sneezes, turning her head to try and hide it, but you notice anyway. You help her out of her jacket and steer her to the couch. She sits down and off comes her dripping wet hoodie. Her shirt is soaked as well, so off it goes as well. Fingertips brushing against skin, you notice how cold she is.

"You're insane", you say, returning with a towel. Natasha glances at it and subtly raises her eyebrows when she spots the paint stains on it, but you've already started toweling her hair dry. "You'll get pneumonia!"

"I'll be fine", she says dismissively. "Just a little rain. My bike broke down."

"You could've called", you mutter, rubbing her hair with the towel. "Or texted. I would've called a taxi or something."

Natasha goes silent. She didn't even consider that option. Maybe part of her wanted to prove something. Hopefully, she succeeded. If not, this may have all been for nothing.

You go upstairs to grab some clothes from your room. Natasha stays on the couch, her eyes scanning her surroundings. She expected art supplies, many of them, and she also expected some messiness. But she didn't think it'd be so...comfortable. Lived-in. Warm, despite the chaos.

Paint splatters on wooden floorboards and half-finished paintings leaning against the walls. Charcoal sketches and pastel doodles, postcards on the walls. Mismatched furniture — most of it thrifted — and glass paint on the massive window. A teddy, with a knitted dress on it.

She smells tea and turpentine, with a hint of something floral woven into the unique smell. A glance at the dining table tells her it's coming from a vase full of lilies.

You return, bare feet padding against stair steps, and walk back to Natasha's side. You hold out a sweater for her to put on, nodding in encouragement, but she grabs your waist and pulls you into her lap instead.

It's unexpected, but not unwelcome. She tugs the sweater out of your hand and tosses it aside, then kisses you again.

Fingerprints of paint stain her face.

. . .

You don't stop ordering things. In fact, you only start to order more.

You know you're being an annoying little shit. It's clear as day, and your chats prove it.

You: bring me more

washi tape pls? — 1.04am

Natasha: you're fucking

kidding — 1.04am

You: the clear one with

the stars :) — 1.05am

Natasha: this isn't a

convenience store. — 1.05am

You: it is if you bring

me what i want — 1.06am

And, half an hour later, she was in front of your door. There was a striped bag in her hands.

Once she saw your smile, she'd forgotten all about her complaints.

"This is the last time", she said, letting you lead her into the house. You tilted your head up to kiss her jaw. "Don't even try to butter me up. No more running errands for you."

You know she doesn't mind, though. One night, as you're kneeling on the floor and gluing magazine cutouts to a painting, someone knocks. You get up and open the door and, oh surprise, it's Natasha.

The first thing you notice is that she looks exhausted. Circles under her eyes, her face even paler than usual. The poor excuse of a paper bag she's clutching is crumpled and grease-stained.

"You order anything?", she asks.

Of course not. You never order on Tuesdays. Not anymore, at least — it's the only night Natasha has off.

You tilt your head in silent response. Her jaw clenches, she shifts on her feet and drums her fingers against her thigh, and you finally decide to stop torturing her.

"Come in", you say, grabbing her hand.

"Figured you'd want something", she mumbles, padding into the living room.

"Uh-huh. Here, sit down."

She sinks onto the couch's cushions, sighing quietly. You straddle her lap and take your sweet time with her for a moment. Just look at her, run your fingers through her hair, gently push the jacket off her shoulders.

Her eyes meet yours. You smile softly and grasp her chin between your fingers.

"You must really like me."

She bites the insides of her cheeks, eyes staring up at you. No response — she doesn't know what to say, because denying the truth would be as uncomfortable as standing by it.

You trail your fingers along her jaw, then slide them up into her hair. You lean in close, so close you can taste her breath and feel her lips brush against yours, but not close enough to kiss her. Finally, Natasha grips your thighs in unspoken frustration.

You laugh quietly and lean in, deciding to go easy on her. You press a kiss to the corner of her mouth and guide her to lay down.

"Cat got your tongue?", you murmur, placing lingering kisses on her jaw.

"Just tired."

"And you decided to show up here."

"Nothing else makes sense this late."

The admission makes you pause, if ever so briefly. You kiss her, hands cupping her face, and feel her hands slip under your shirt.

Fingertips inch higher up and tug at your bra. The clasp comes undone, making the pressure around your chest disappear.

It's slow. Clothes come off, lips meet time after time. Straddling one of her thighs, you litter kisses and little bites on her neck.

"You should sleep", you whisper against her skin. Your fingers are fumbling with the zipper of her jeans.

"I will", she rasps, eyes closed. "After."

"You seem tired", you point out. You tug the waistband of her jeans lower and expose Calvin Klein boxers. An involuntary noise leaves you at the sight.

Natasha puts her hand on the back of your head and pulls you into a kiss. Her other hand grips yours, slowly guiding it into her boxers.

You feel the heavy weight of her length in your hand and nearly moan. A few slow strokes are enough to get her to harden in your palm. You feel every vein, every soft throb, her quickening breathing like music in your ears.

There's something vulnerable about being in this position. Natasha is used to being on top, but with you, she doesn't seem to mind letting you take control.

Her head drops back against the armrest. With her neck exposed to you, your lips linger on her pulse point as you start moving your hand up and down her shaft. The pad of your thumb circles her tip, gathering precum and lubricating her hard-on.

She squirms underneath you, frustrated and restless, a silent request for you to pick up the pace. But you keep your movements slow and steady, drawing out the pleasure and letting it build gradually. Natasha's hips buck into your hand, her hand clasped over her own mouth to stifle moans.

She twitches and throbs hotly in your hand. You kiss her collarbone, your hand applying pressure to her cock. You're drawing her to the edge so gently she feels like she might lose her mind.

Your thumb traces veins and rubs the underside of her length. Another soft whine comes from her mouth. You lift your head to kiss her and swallow the pathetic little sounds she's making. When she comes, her body tenses through the slow, shuddering unraveling. Cum spills on your hand and you pull away.

Dazed, spent, out of breath. Natasha clears her throat, her cheeks flushed.

. . .

You only need to take one look at the bag she's holding to be able to tell.

"You forgot something", you say, paint-smudged hands on her waist as you steer her inside. Much to her dismay, you absently wipe your fingers on her hoodie. She shoots an exasperated look at the blue stains.

"You haven't even opened the bag."

"I can tell. You forgot the snail shells."

Natasha glances at you as she plops onto the couch. You put the bag on the coffee table and rummage through it. You were right — no snail shells. But you do find the requested Oreos and vanilla milk.

"You only eat trash, you know", she says, one arm tucked under her head.

You roll your eyes. "Don't even start with that."

"I mean it. Oreos and sugar-milk aren't exactly the most nutritious dinner."

"Oh, hush", you mumble, swatting at her. Natasha just grins and reaches out, grasping your wrist. "Hey, what-"

She ignores you. With one swift tug, you topple over and she's got you on the couch next to her. You grunt and adjust your position.

"You hush", she retorts, arm wrapping around you and snuggling you closer. "Always complaining. Would it kill you to be grateful for once?"

You huff, smiling. Natasha pinches your side and you let out a gasp.

"Hey!"

"Come on, say it."

"Forget it."

Her fingertips dance over your ribs. You shift and squirm, trying to get away from her grasp, but it's a halfhearted attempt.

"Come on", she repeats. "Say thank you."

Her fingers brush against the underside of your breast. Your laughter turns into a barely contained sound of pleasure.

Natasha laughs and slips her fingertips under the fabric of your bra.

"Say thank you", she whispers, "and maybe I'll be nice."

"So unfair", you retort. "Fine. Thank you."

"Mhm." She hums and kisses your cheek. "Better."

"You know, if you weren't the one delivering me stuff..."

"What?" She scoffs, smiling, and tickles your ribs. She knows better than to get offended by what you said. If it weren't for her delivering your orders, this never would've happened. Neither of you really know what 'this' is, but you both know you like it.

You squirm in her arms and bat at her hand. "You heard me!"

"Is that all I am to you?", she mocks, lightly cupping your breast. "I'm wounded. Truly."

"No", you say, not thinking. "You don't know how much you mean to me, I think."

Natasha goes quiet for a long moment. She feels your heartbeat speed up, rapid like a prey's, when you realize what you just said. But then she shifts and sits up, and she guides you to roll over, and you feel her lips on yours.

She never stays the night. She doesn't let herself get too close to anyone. She's seen you naked, touched every inch of your body with her tongue, yet staying the night always felt like it'd be too much.

This time, she stays. Fully clothed and keeping her space, she lays down. She makes sure not to breathe in the scent of your bedsheets. At some point that night, though, she wakes up. She reaches for you blindly, fingers feeling the air until they graze your arm.

She hesitates. Something has shifted, and she can feel it deep in her bones.

Finally, she pulls you closer. Tucks you against her chest, brushes her fingers along your spine.

. . .

Before she's even managed to open her eyes, you're up and about.

Digging through your closet, brushing your hair, making tea and toast and opening windows. Wind makes the curtains billow out and her hair flutter, so she rolls over and buries her face in your pillow. The sun isn't even up yet.

"Why are you up at this ungodly hour?"

"Watch the sunrise", you say, slipping into a tank top. "Paint a little."

"You're insane."

"Up, up", you say. You throw aside the blanket she's covered with and pat her butt. She doesn't move an inch. "Come on! I need your help with something."

That manages to briefly get her attention, but it doesn't last long. She slumps back into the sheets, her face hidden.

"Forget it", she murmurs.

"Nat", you drawl. "Please. It'll be worth it."

"Define 'worth it'."

You tug at her boxers, just enough to expose a sliver of her butt. She swats at your hand. It's obvious she's tired, so you decide to let it go for a while. As soon as she's out of bed, though, you're dragging her out of the house and toward a shed to the side.

You feel grass under your feet, tickling your ankles. Natasha trails after you, hand in yours, her red hair in a braid. The top she's wearing is one of yours, and it's covered in charcoal and watercolor stains. She's not complaining anymore — too distracting is the sight of you in nothing but an oversized shirt and her boxers.

But then, you open the shed. You reveal a red Fiat.

First, she just stares. The car looks relatively new. Maybe not brand new, no, but no older than about five years. Natasha's a car mechanic, so she can figure that out pretty easily.

"You have a car."

You nod and lead her into the shed. "Yeah. This is DaVinci."

She shoots you a brief, disbelieving look, then stares at the vehicle again. "You've had a car. This whole time."

"Mhm."

"...I've been driving around in the crack of dawn for nothing."

You wave your hand and lean against the wall, ankles crossing. "Not for nothing. It, I dunno...won't start. It cranks, but doesn't really do anything."

Natasha rolls her eyes. She lifts the hood and secures it with the rod, then takes a look at the engine bay. You stay where you are, subtly checking her out. A black tank top and cargos, her braid resting over her shoulder. Hands that are slowly but surely getting covered in grease.

You'd jump her bones, but you already made her roll out of bed for this, so she probably wouldn't appreciate you trying to make a move on her right now.

"Didn't take it to a shop?"

"Wasn't in the mood."

You earn an exasperated look for that. You shrug, and Natasha turns toward the car again. You have no idea what she's doing, truthfully, but that's fine. The view's nice.

"Coolant's good", she says, checking it for leaks. "Battery terminals are a little corroded."

"No idea what that means."

"Of course", she mutters. She frowns and tugs at a belt-like thing. Loose, which isn't a great sign. She unscrews the fuel filter and a nasty liquid drips out. "Jesus. When's the last time you changed this?"

"Change what?"

Natasha purses her lips and puts the filter aside. "I see. Neglect."

"You're being dramatic."

"You should've taken this thing to the shop ages ago", she complains, voice muffled as she leans deeper into the car. Tank top riding up slightly, you catch a glimpse of her toned stomach. Her biceps flex and you almost miss her next question. "Got a toolbox?"

You tilt your head and pretend to have no idea what she's talking about just to mess with her a little. She stares back at you, eyebrows raised. Once she leans onto the car, one hand on the side of the hood and the other covering her forehead, you saunter to the shelves in the back of the shed.

"Oh, thank god", she mutters. "You got a replacement filter?"

"Aw, honey. You believe in me too much, I think."

Another shake of her head. She steps out of the shed, walks to her bike, grabs something, and then returns. You eye the cylinder-like thing with the two tubes sticking out of it.

"That it?"

Natasha doesn't even respond. You do see her lips twitch, though.

She grabs the creeper you for some reason have and lays down on it. Again, abs. Muscles, covered in small grease stains, flex. You stare at them unabashedly.

She slides under the car and unhooks the filter. You crouch down to get a better view of her.

"Now what?"

"Changing the filter", she replies. Fuel dribbles down her forearms and she wipes it off with a rag. "You can thank me later, by the way."

"Will totally do."

She replaces the filter, tightens the clamp, then gives the undercarriage an encouraging tap before rolling back out. You're sitting on the floor cross-legged, shooting her a teasing smile when she reappears.

"What?", she asks, wiping the fuel off her arms.

"You're so good with your hands."

Natasha rolls her eyes, but kisses your cheek anyway. She changes the serpentine belt as well, then closes the hood and pats it. She nods at the car.

"Go on", she says. "Give her a try."

"'Her'?", you say, sitting down behind the steering wheel.

"Cars are always female."

"You learn something new every day." You put the key in the ignition and turn it.

The car seems to hesitate for a moment. It rumbles, cranks, and you're already about to give up — but then it comes to life, smoother than ever before, and you clap your hands.

Before she can register what's happening, you're out of the car again. You throw your arms around her and jump into her embrace, squeezing a little too hard. You hear a soft grunt from her.

"Hey", she laughs, "I'm covered in grease."

"Don't care." You pull away just enough to reach her lips. They're plush and warm against yours. "You're a genius!"

"I do what I can", she mumbles, a little too rosy cheeked and happy, and kisses you again. Walks you backwards until you're sitting on the hood of the car, slowly leaning forward so your back is flush with the cold, hard material. "What now? No more deliveries? I'm officially useless?"

"No", you whisper, tugging her closer by her pants' belt loops. "I'll find a way to keep you entertained."

Metal creaks beneath you. Sunlight seeps into the space. The shed's doors are still open. The air smells like grass, fuel and Natasha's cologne.

Her hands palm your sides, push the shirt you're wearing a little higher. Fingertips trail over smooth, soft skin. Her nose nuzzles your jaw, then you feel wet, hot kisses along your neck.

You wrap your legs around her waist.

"Think DaVinci can handle this?", she murmurs, one hand sliding around to the small of your back.

You pretend to think about it — and then pull her back in.

. . .

You're both on the rug in the living room, a paint-stained blanket draped over her lower half. She's on her stomach, arms crossed underneath her head and her eyes staring at nothing in particular. You're straddling her butt, a paintbrush in your hand.

You've had all kinds of canvases so far. Linen, cotton, in rolls or on panels. Small ones and bigger ones, raw or primed. Yet, none of them come close to the one you're sitting on right now.

Neither of you really talked about this. After sleeping together on the floor, though, surrounded by art supplies and sketches, Natasha’d rolled onto her stomach. You’d seen the smudges of paint on her shoulder. You’d brushed her hair aside and kissed her neck.

"You ticklish?", you’d whispered.

She'd shaken her head 'no'.

It may have been a lie. You can see her twitch ever so slightly whenever the bristles brush against the more sensitive areas of her skin. You put your hand on her shoulder and push her back down when she tries to shift.

"Not yet", you insist, trying to finish the painting of the two little bats.

"Whatever", she mutters. You smile and add tiny teeth to the creatures' mouths.

"It's cute."

"I look ridiculous."

"What?" You huff, getting off her and scooting away on your knees. You grab a different color and return. "Bullshit. You look adorable. Such a shame I'm not a tattoo artist."

She turns her head enough to look at you. Red strands fall in front of her eyes and you reach out to tuck them behind her ear. Your fingertips, stained in black and red, leave specks of paint behind.

"I truly hope you aren't being serious."

"Maybe, maybe not." You grin and wave your hand at her. "Come on, put your head back down. I'm not done with you."

"Oh, for fuck's sake", she mutters, but does as told.

Index finger dipped into black paint, you write the word mine on her lower back.

Natasha tenses, but only briefly. Her fingers curl into the rug underneath her. She exhales, her face buried against her arms again. She's enjoying this a little too much. Not just the feeling of your weight on her body, of cold paint on skin, but everything else as well.

It's been months. You still haven't given up your little routine of ordering stuff and then making her stay the night.

"I felt that", she mumbles, voice muffled.

"What?", you ask innocently. You decide to add a few hearts.

"What you wrote." She hesitates. "You mean it?"

You add another heart. You smile at your own creation, then peek at her face. You can't see her, so you tickle the back of her neck. All it leads to is a small huff, though.

"Is it important?"

"It's not not important."

"So it is."

"Y/N."

"I mean it."

Finally, she looks up. Her eyes search your face.

You haven't defined your relationship. You're staking your claim on her, anyway.

"I mean it", you repeat, seeing the incredulous look on her face. "I wouldn't have spent hundreds of dollars on deliveries if it didn't mean getting to see you."

"Yeah", she murmurs.

"I don't need the deliveries." You let out a slow breath. "I just need you."

The tips of her ears burn red. She shifts, swallows, like she wants to say something but doesn't know how. You nudge her side with your knee.

"Too much, too soon?"

"No." She laughs, dropping her face back onto her arms. "Keep going."

[1moreoffkeyanthem]

hi pce :) why do you ship style and what are your favorites parts of the ship? also what are your favorites aspects of stan and kyle’s individual personalities? AND bonus question, how do you write so quickly 😭😭

First of all I’m SO sorry I’ve been terrible about checking my inbox and answering asks I’m working through them slowly I promise

So! We all know while I’m a ridiculous multishipper (especially where Kyle is concerned), NOTHING tops style for me! SP otp no question. Why? Because I ADORE ships that start off as friendships and develop into something more! Style in particular I think is so appealing because they already know each other so well from being super best friends their whole lives and I love the idea of them both “secretly” pining for the other longggg before either of them confess. And there’s the added bonus of their dynamic, at least the way I interpret them most of the time: Kyle being passionate and hotheaded, Stan being more reserved and friendly until he gets worked up enough. Kyle being “WHAT THE FUCK DID YOU JUST SAY?!” And Stan being “yeah whatever, dude” if you catch my drift.

My number one favorite aspect of Stan’s personality is his protectiveness. Not just as a headcanon, but in the show and games as well. We see him protective of his friends (especially Kyle) as well as Wendy. Yesterday i was watching sp (ofc I was) and the way he got sooo pissed at Cartman when he was talking shit about “his gf” in Dances With Smurfs lmfao. And I mean, Stan chooses to play as a KNIGHT when the kids are playing their fantasy game. So yes, his protectiveness.

For Kyle, definitely his passion. My boy sees an injustice and he is FIGHTING it. A good example of that is the most recent special. Kyle and Cartman DONT get along well, but Kyle finds out that people who need weight loss medication and can’t get it because people are abusing it? He’s fighting like hell to make it right, dealing with the convoluted ass American healthcare system, literally learning how to make it himself. Bro doesn’t do ANYTHING half assed.

Dude lemme tell ya. I know as of late the PCE fics haven’t been pumping out the way they used to, and I had some medical and mental health reasons for that, but back in the day the fics were coming faster than a repressed horny teenager jackin off (Sry I had to lmao) Anyway, a lot of the reason I was able to write so quickly is because I’m CONSTANTLY writing in my head. Like if I’m not focused on doing something else, there’s a story I’m making up mentally. And I’ve always done that; it’s just a year and a half or so ago that those stories became South Park focused and I started writing them down and posting them. I’ll be driving or trying to fall asleep or doing chores around the house or a menial task at work, and be writing in my head. So then when I go to actually type it out, it’s already mostly written. I’d say my process has definitely changed since the RANT groupchat, specifically with sharing my ideas as they come to me, whereas before I didn’t have that. Now I’ll just be all “hey should I add this” and have feedback that inspires something else I wind up adding. But yeah, long story short, I write quickly bc I write the whole thing in my head first lmao

[jewwyfeesh]

The Lost Tome - 6

Writer: Mitsuki

Characters: Narukami Arashi, Tsukinaga Leo, Sakuma Ritsu, Suou Tsukasa, Sena Izumi

Translated by: jewwyfeesh

Note: no you didn't see me forget to add the quote, no you didnt. (magics it away)

Arashi: Goodness, Izumi-chan, don’t just snatch it from me so roughly! I promised Ou-sama that I’ll take good care of this.

[ ♪ ]

Season: Autumn

Location: Empty Classroom

The next day…

Leo: LMAO, Sena’s the one who’s late today! Yesterday he was nagging me non-stop with such a deadpan expression, should I nag him back today? Hahahaha!

Arashi: Ou-sama, did you forget? Today Izumi-chan’s taking the day shift, and had already notified us via text message earlier on.

Leo: Ah? Really? Lemme see— Oh… Sena really did send us a message.

Arashi: It’s not my intention to scold you, Ou-sama, but you should pay attention to your messages every once in a while. If Izumi-chan were to see this, he’s definitely going to blow his top… again.

Leo: Yeah I know, I know ☆

Tsukasa: Speaking of which… Leader, what’s that in your hand?

Leo: Ah! I’ve been caught red-handed by Suo~! This is my weapon of choice, hahahaha.

Was I too loud earlier on? Did someone notice us?

Tsukasa: Leader, what’s wrong? Why are you acting so frantic?

Leo: It’s nothing, I just snuck this sword into school. So if the Student Council found out about it, they’ll definitely confiscate it.

Tsukasa: But… secretly bringing weapons in like this is a very dangerous matter, Leader. For yours and everyone else’s Safety, it’s better if you kept it away.

Leo: Suo~, there’s no need to be so uptight~ Not to mention, it’s not sharp or anything! If you don’t believe me, look!

Tsukasa: Wow, its edge has actually been made blunt. Furthermore, it… is rather Beautiful. It does make for a rather exquisite weapon… Oh, no. Kindly allow me to refer to it as a work of art.

Though… Leader, I would like to enquire as to why you’ve brought it today? Do you intend to Perform with it or something?

Leo: Well, it’s because of this book~

I went back to study its contents, and they’re super duper thought-provoking! Not to mention, it allowed me to better understand more about being a knight-errant. See, see! These parts at the back talking about weaponry and stuff are super cool!

After reading it, my inspiration surged forth! So I wrote a piece about knight-errants, but felt that it was lacking a little something-something. So I got my friend to help me buy a sword to try and find that knight-errant vibe.

Then again this method is hella useful! I managed to fill the missing piece, and also managed to channel a better understanding of knight-errants into the piece! Even though I spent a lot of effort on this, seems like the end product makes it all worth it ☆

Tsukasa: Even though your drive to keep on improving is something we should learn from, Leader, please allow me to enquire — why is this book still in your hands? Weren’t you supposed to return it yesterday?

Leo: Err… Y-you see… After saying my goodbyes yesterday, I walked towards the lost-and-found while reading the book…

But I was too engrossed, somehow walked into an unrecognisable area, and got lost…

It took a lot outta me to get myself back somewhere familiar, but by then the sky was getting dark, so I just went home…

Tsukasa: Leader, are you aware that the Student Council is currently in a frenzy because of this book?

I had dropped by the archery range after practice yesterday in the hopes of getting some solo practice. Instead, I bumped into Hasumi-buchou, who was desperately looking for this book.

Back then, I was comforting Hasumi-buchou, saying things like this book could’ve already made its way to the lost-and-found, and that he didn’t need to be so frantic, only for you to… Sigh…

(I remember Hasumi-buchou was desperately trying to find a book, saying that it was something that Tenshouin Onii-sama had borrowed from Hibiki-senpai, and that Hibiki-senpai wanted Onii-sama’s suggestions for one of their scripts…)

(Onii-sama had found the script and its setting particularly engaging, thus borrowing this book from Hibiki-senpai. He had wanted to give it a very thorough look-through, before providing detailed suggestions.)

(But Hasumi-buchou didn’t know of this; when the Student Council were tidying things up, perhaps Tori-kun accidentally lost this book while rearranging the books. And Hasumi-buchou, who was in the dark, didn’t realise when he was making an inventory.)

(It was only after Onii-sama returned, looking for said script, that everyone found out about Tenshouin Onii-sama having borrowed it from Hibiki-senpai. Afterwards, the Student Council was in shambles.)

(At present, Leader has yet to return the book… Hasumi-buchou was so distraught, so guilty. Hh… I wonder if he’ll think I was trying to prank him when he was so down-trodden?)

Leo: Suo~, don’t wear such a heartbroken expression…! I-I’ll go return it now!

Ritsu: I don’t think we’d feel very reassured if we let Ou-sama run off on his own, so I’ll accompany him.

(If I accompany the King to return the book and bump into a Maa~kun who’s gone berserk from searching, Maa~kun will definitely praise me, hehehe.)

Leo: It’s rare to see you so energetic, Rittsu~; not to mention, you accompanying me there is gonna help a ton!

Oh, right! I’m entrusting this sword to y’all to safe keep. If the Student Council finds out about it, I reckon we’re gonna be in a whole lot of trouble ☆

Arashi: Relax, Ou-sama. You can leave this to Tsukasa-chan and I.

Leo: We’ll take our leave first, bye bye!

Izumi: Grr, to be inconvenienced on the day that I have to work the day-shift, how frustrating!

Kasa-kun, Naru-kun? Why are the both of you alone here? Where did everyone else go?

Arashi: The King and Ritsu-chan went to return a book — yep, that book from yesterday. So it’s just the two of us left. Since you’re here, Izumi-chan, let’s start practising~

Izumi: That book from yesterday? Shouldn’t Ou-sama have returned it already?

Arashi: He got lost en-route, so he needs to make another trip today. But Ritsu-chan’s accompanying him, so I don’t think we’ll have any more problems on our hands.

Izumi: Ou-sama that f**king idiot! What the hell! What’s that thing in your hands?

Arashi: Oh, this? It’s the King’s sword. Isn’t it very……

Goodness, Izumi-chan, don’t just snatch it from me so roughly! I promised Ou-sama that I’ll take good care of this.

Izumi: Hmph, this King! I can’t believe he even brought this stupid toy to training!

First, he ditched practice, then he doesn’t attend our activities, and now he decides to bring some… some toy to training! Seriously, it goes to show how much he prioritises Knights! No, I must teach him a lesson today!

Arashi: Wait a minute, Izumi-chan, you should hear my explanation first—

And there he goes. If Izumi-chan goes to look for the King in this state, who knows what kind of disaster would happen? I should notify him first, and give him a chance to hide.

Tsukasa-chan, let’s chase after him. If the both of them bump into each other, we can try to soothe their ruffled feathers.

Tsukasa: Understood, Narukami-senpai. Should a Conflict truly arise, I will do my best to mediate the situation.

[ ☆ ]

← Chapter 5 | Story Masterlist

just a little note of appreciation: thank you to all my wonderful friends who've never stopped supporting me and listen to me ramble about these squishies for ages, and to the readers who enjoy my tls!

special shout out to book club as well, thank you for being so amazing. i hope to hear from y'all soon <3

[georgieluz]

Hiii! Once you get this, you have to say five things you like about yourself, publicly. Then you have to send this to ten of your favourite followers (non-negotiable, positivity is cool :3)

sorry i'm a bit late replying to this but hello!!

oooh okay lemme give this a go..

putting a read more incase it gets long!

1 – i'm a fiercely loyal friend. i'll go to war with whole universes for you if you're my friend, but i'll also be there to talk things through when you fuck up and make mistakes, and i won't sugarcoat it and say what i think you want to hear, i'll be honest and raw, but will make sure you know that i'm a safe place where you can be open about those mistakes without feeling judged or persecuted.

2 – i've got fluffy hair. people seem to like it? it's very soft and very messy but i would say it's something i like about myself.

3 – i like that i grew up in two completely different countries during my childhood. it's given me a really unique perspective and i really appreciate the qualities i've gotten from both welsh culture and korean culture. i've grown up speaking three languages because of this and both countries feel like home to me. when i'm not in korea, i miss it. when i'm not in wales, i miss it. it's surreal in a way, to be homesick for one whilst being in the other, and to have it happen both ways, regardless. but yeah, i appreciate this.

4 – i like that i've taken a lot of risks in my life. sometimes i realise that in the past i've left myself open to getting hurt a lot, but i feel pretty proud that despite the obstacles, i've somehow lived more of a life than i ever expected i would when growing up.

5 – i like that i've learnt to truly enjoy learning. not for anyone else's sake, but simply my own. school was torture being autistic with add, but i always loved learning. i just needed to find the form of learning that would actually work for me.

[hyperesthesias]

(from smooth-boob) ⭐ I don’t know what you write but now I will know!

send in a ⭐star⭐  to have the author select a section they’ve been dying to talk about!

This is incredibly late mostly because I panicked and suddenly had no idea which fanfic to write about lol

But I decided last night. It's one I wrote five years ago, before the pandemic. It was a very difficult time in my life (which you will hear me say many more times than you have already LMAO), but writing this fic helped get me through some very disturbing and emotional nights.

Lost Time, a Boba Fett and Original Character fanfic. It was largely inspired by Karen Traviss' interpretation of Boba and the chronic, terminal illness he suffered after he escaped the Sarlacc. It centered around Boba leaving his wife, Valera, once he realizes his illness is going to take his life. He's lived with the chronic pain for many years, but once death starts to catch up with him, he doesn't want his wife to watch him die.

Rereading it now, all I can see are its flaws. Structural/grammatical things that I don't like, things I wish I had expounded upon, scenes that needed tweaking. But I try having mercy on myself, because even with it being a violent time in my life, I still think I did pretty well. Even if I still think it sucks. The dichotomy of a perpetually dissatisfied author.

I liked how in-universe I kept everything, even with the addition of original characters like Valera, Gira Lemm, and the Twi'lek who hires Boba, while also maintaining real-world tribulations like chronic/terminal illness, a Ponzi scheme, and martial relationships. I liked the tone throughout the fic, the use of language and connotations, I tried to give the fic a sombre feeling, while also keeping a driving tempo and momentum.

The one scene I think of, whenever I think of this fic, is when Boba sees Valera at the party, and he runs away from her, but she chases him:

"...But when she stepped into the hallway, a scent wafted into her memory and a flutter emerged from the corner of her eye. A threadbare piece of tattered fabric – one she knew she had mended many times before. Am I to wake to find the edge of my bed empty again?

She sprinted towards it and found the door had begun to fall closed, it occluded her view of anything past its hinges. She threw it open and found a fading figure in the darkness: one that blended in with the green of manicured landscapes, the verdant trees that lined the distance, the jade that breathed in the aurora above the mountain tops. And in the night starlight a glimmer of red ribbon shone in a coil wrapped round the man’s belt. The ribbon she once used to tie her hair. It is him."

I really liked the addition and recurring element of the red ribbon she uses to tie her hair; how he took it when he first left, and tied it around his belt. Men of war used to keep their wives' ribbons with them and tie them to their armour, and that was something I really wanted to add, especially being that he is a Mandalorian, and they take pride in their accoutrements and trophies.

I also like how Valera isn't ignorant when it comes to her husband. He may be a man of war, but she is a woman of peace, but she married him knowing full well what he does: "She’d had no delusions of what her husband did. She never had. But the past doesn’t die, regardless of who else does." She makes peace with it because she loves him, not because she's a fool.

I wanted to write more with Boba and Valera, and to be fair, the work does have an additional chapter that precedes it, but I had always hoped to write about their life after Lost Time. But I think the ambiguity serves them better. You can imagine anything for them, including a happy ending.

[trulylino]

=> The One Who... - SKZ

Pairing: stray kids x gn!reader

Genre: mostly fluff and a hint of suggestive in lee know's but it's only if you squint

Summary: boyfriend trope post inspired by the tiktok trend where you describe them as lovers

Warnings: slight suggestive for lee know, mentions of death, kissing, food

A/N: I kept adding things to this every time I thought I was done I would be like WAIT lemme add that to the Changbin one or smth like that like this happened for like half an hour

Masterlist

Chan - the one you're going to marry

Ever since you met Chan there was just something about him which made you know instantly you were going to grow old with him. He knows how to make you laugh and how to comfort you when you cry. After a bad day he'll run you a bath and you'll find a basket of your favourite scented bath bombs and a mug of tea or hot chocolate on the side. When you get out the bath, fingers all pruney from the water you find that he's cooked dinner and changed the bed sheets so they're crisp and fresh and all you can do is crawl into his arms. Then you just know that you're going to marry him. He's the one. You're sure he's the one when you're an hour into a late night drive with him and he pulls over so he can rest his head in your lap. He doesn't need to tell you that he's in love with you because his eyes say a thousand words with how hopelessly and intently he's looking at you.

Minho - the one who knows you're his

He's really subtly flirty. Like you'll just be out with friends and he'll grab your hand and make you blush. Then he's all possessive too like 'these are my hands now'. He doesn't give you a second to get your thoughts straight it's just completely 100% him when he wants it to be like that. He can do a complete 180 with his personality too like one moment he's calling you Jagi in a sweet voice the next he's telling you to be good and he'll be nice to you when you get home. Your mind just cannot comprehend him. He's still secretly the cutest person ever though and loves taking you on little cafe dates where you'll be practically cuddling with your chairs so close together you may as well be sharing one. He'll pick up your hand from where it dangles at the side of your torso and place it on the table just so he can play with your fingers, weaving them with his and letting the pads of them brush over his own palms until you're whining and telling him to stop because it tickles.

Changbin - the one who makes you a better person

If there's one thing Changbin wants for you is for you to be the best version of you. He wants you to be healthy and he wants you to be happy. He'll remind you to eat if you've been distracted all day and when you're stressed he's there to help you relax with a face mask and a hair band. He likes going on dates with you to treat you, even if it's just going to the park for a picnic or the beach so the two of you can breathe the fresh sea air and jump over waves together like you're still five. He makes you feel like a kid again and you think that that's maybe what's so freeing about being with him. When you need to escape he'll be there for you. For your birthday every year he always, no matter what gives you photos of his favourite memories with you from the past year, each with little handwritten notes on the back with the dates and with little reminders about why they mean so much to him. Whenever you miss him or you're feeling sad you can get them out and just remember how loved you are.

Hyunjin - the one who would die for you

You cannot convince me that he wouldn't give the world for you. If you were in some dystopia YA book and he had to choose between saving the world and saving you he would choose you every single time. He is scared of how much he loves you but isn't afraid to let you know that. He needs you to know that he loves you more than anything else in the world and will take you out to do anything you want. You want him to buy you flowers? He has your favourites in a bouquet by the time you're back home. He likes visiting the aquarium with you too. It feels comforting just sitting hand in hand on a bench watching the fish so carefree and when you find the area where you can touch the starfish he can't help but splash you with water, forcing him to have to spoil you and treat you to a whole new outfit since yours is now wet. He draws you too. He brings his little sketchbook everywhere so when you're pouting at the fact that your latte art got ruined when you accidentally dipped your nose in it its cemented in history forever by his pencil.

Jisung - the one that knows you better than you know yourself

When you've known someone for as long as you've known Han it's not often you find out something that shocks you. He was your best friend before he was your boyfriend and it adds another level to your bond. He's still the same person you knew when you were fourteen except now you kiss and hold hands and cuddle. He never saw any of your flaws and when you would talk about all your failed relationships in the past it would feel like a dagger in his heart, twisting slowly, excruciatingly until he couldn't take it anymore and kissed you himself. So when you need a best friend, he's there and when you need a boyfriend you know that he's first in line. You can rant to him about the smallest thing and know that he's listening to you, know that he cares about you have to say and the same goes for the other way. It's because you've always wanted to know Jisung better than he does and you're sure that he knows you better than you know you.

Felix - the one who's never letting you go

He sometimes feels physically ill when he's away from you for too long. Like his energy drains and he gets a headache and as soon as your around it fades and he's all smiley and bubbly again. Sometimes when you get back from class or work and he's in this state all that you can do is just snuggle up under the blanket with him and stroke his hair and massage his shoulders through his shirt for him. He'll just relax into your touch and half way through your second movie you'll find he's completely asleep in your arms, grabbing you like a koala, forcing you to go to sleep as well since there's no way you're freeing yourself from his grasp. Not that you would want to move away from him anyway, he feels like home.

Seungmin - the one who hides you from the world

He gives a secret romance vibe. He reminds me of that Taylor Swift lyric like 'You kept me like a secret but I kept you like an oath'. It's always stolen kisses when you sneak away from the rest of your friends at a festival and counting the number of people in front of you so you happen to be paired together to go on the ferris wheel alone. Like he loves you so much but he's scared to tell other people that because he thinks it makes him vulnerable. He's told his family and a couple close friends but that's maybe it at least until you've been dating for about a year. It does lead to really aesthetically pleasing midnight walks together under the stars where you end up in a random field or park somewhere talking until you can see the sun start to come up on the horizon and you have to rush home. At some point he breaks down and tells you he can't keep it a secret anymore because all he wants to do is shout from the rooftops with a megaphone that he's yours.

Jeongin - the one that's crazy about you

There isn't a moment where isn't thinking about you. He texts you at 3am because he can't sleep and he misses you. He walks to where ever you are if you're about to go home because he doesn't want you to be by yourself and he knows you'll feel safer if he's there. He'll hold your hand as you walk together back to your place and he'll ask you about your day and what you got up to. You'll tell him and when you ask him in return he'll reply with some corny line about how all he did was miss you. The only thing is he's not joking because you literally consume his every waking thought. And sleeping thought, but that's not the point. It's not his fault you haunt his dreams with your pretty face that he just wants to grab and stroke your cheek until his skin wears away from friction.

Taglist: @dreamescapeswriting @sparkyprotectionsquad @bang-me-chan

[kasplonkable]

Foxma HC's

I love these bitches so much. I've finished Gotham now and lemme just say... You know that scene (spoilers for season 5 from here I guess lmao) when Ed breaks into the GCPD and is going through the files, and Lucius catches him and pushes him back with a hand on his chest?? Yeah, I've been thinking about that scene a lot. This list breaks from canon a little bit (as in, it exists in a world where they would realistically date), but oh well. Enjoy :-)

I reckon they're one of those couples where people don't even realise they're dating until something obviously lovey-dovey happens

like, they'll be at a dinner party or something and one of them maybe gets a little too drunk and kisses the other, and everyone else is like "lol that's embarrassing, Lucius and Ed just kissed" and they're like "???yeah??? We've been dating for 3 years now???"

Like, between all the hand holding, and the sharing food and clothes, everyone just thought they were really friendly with each other (but in hindsight they probably should have guessed)

they have nights where they challenge each other at board games all night. Like, they'll cycle through about 15 games in one night, and have an ongoing tally of wins pinned up on the fridge

on their anniversary, they'll buy each other a new game to add to the tournament

predictably, if they ever watch a game show on TV, they'll race to answer the question first (but every now and then, Lucius lets Ed win just to see how excited he gets about it (Ed knows this of course, but he doesn't mind so much when Lucius looks at him like that))

because they're interested in the same sort of subjects, info dumping is always a fun time for both of them (even if it's unrelated, it's still fun)

while Ed's hanging up the washing, he'll listen to Lucius rant about the intricacies and beauty of biomechanics

and then while Lucius is cooking, he'll listen to Ed rant about epigenetics

This happens a lot though, with pretty much anything...

"so they've basically got a ton of chromosomes!! And there's this one fern that has the world record for having the most!! It's called the adder's tongue fern, or Ophioglossum reticulatum, and it has up to 1,440 chromosomes!!! That's way too many!!" "And what was this called again??" "Polyploidy!! Wait, I haven't even started on Oxytricha trifallax yet!! So basically-" *heart eyes*

Ed always forgets to carry his ear defenders around, so Lucius makes sure he has a spare pair in his bag just in case Ed needs them

Lucius likes to tinker with things when he's bored

one time, Ed came home to find him surrounded by a mixture of cogs and screws only to find that he'd taken apart their toaster

"it stopped working..."

"oh, okay!! Can you fix it?"

"Yeah! It was a fairly common problem, all I needed to do was- what? Why are you looking at me like that?"

*absolute heart eyes* "I just love you is all"

there are so many books and papers around their house that it could be mistaken for a library

well, it's like that right up until the moment Ed gets overstimulated by it all, and then Lucius helps him clean it until everywhere is spotless again (this usually happens late at night, leading to the two of them cleaning until 2 AM and they can finally both sleep)

their whole house is a mixture of dark wood and warm colours. It's really lovely when one comes back and can smell a home cooked meal wafting through the corridors. That's when it especially feels like home

They have a coat hanger by the door that is always overflowing with jackets. When it finally fell over, they both had to reevaluate how many coats they actually needed

one time Ed learn how to quilt so he gave Lucius a massive quilted blanket for his birthday. It was big enough to cover their bed and checked with reds and yellows and the occasional dark green. He loved it so much that it became a permanent fixture in their room

in the winter months, when their small flat can't keep out the Gotham cold, they'll bundle under the blankets and hold onto eachother until they fall asleep

there's not really a strict big spoon or little spoon, just two people clinging to eachother in a tangle of limbs

Lucius has one of those alarms where you have to solve a maths equation before it turns off. Normally Ed would love it, but not at 5 AM...

"nghh can you just turn it off already"

"give me a second, this one's a bit challenging... actually, I'm just going to grab some paper quickly-"

"can you at least taKE THE ALARM WITH YOU?!" Ed groans as he rolls over and tries to hide from the noise in his pillow

Lucius likes to go on runs early in the morning. He enjoys the fresh air and lack of people. That and the fact that Ed is only just waking up when he gets back, sleepily kissing him and handing him a warm cup of coffee with the promise of breakfast soon after

That being said, sometimes he'll go to get up for his run only to find Ed curled into his side. It's those mornings when he decides to snooze his alarm and spend another hour or so dozing next to the love of his life

they go on cute dates to their local museum, sometimes checking out the occasional lecture happening there

They enjoy comparing notes afterwards to see what parts each of them found most interesting

But sometimes if the lecture is boring (and it's rare for either of them to find a lecture boring) they'll forgo the academic notes, and instead send messages back and fourth across the desk

Ed always expects Lucius to throw the notes away afterwards, but he keeps them at the back of his notebook

This lecture is kind of boring. He's just ranting about Crayfish?

Yes, it is slightly strange. I think I heard him say something about invasive species, but honestly I drifted off about 10 minutes ago

Do you want to grab a Chinese after this?

Yeah sure! The usual place?

Obviously

...

Love you

I love you too

[buckybarnesdiaries]

a place called home

© credits to the author, i found it on google. if you own it, send me a message to add your @.

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Request by @dora-wolfram-blog: Hi <3 so happy to see your requests are open! How about ex Avenger reader who can manipulate the forces of nature and she comes to help Sam? (Idk maybe calling fish from the sea so his family can sell and earn enough money for the boat?) There she meets Bucky who she briefly met after endgame and they get to know each other? Domestic stuff is my weak spot so thank you so much luv u <3

word count: 1.206 words.

warnings/tags: none. bucky being a gentleman and sam a pain in the ass as always.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

Saying that Bucky and you were friends wasn’t something exactly. You fought together a couple of times before you retired from superhero life. Like many of them, the war had finished and you chose calm over being a private agent. More or less like the ex-soldier, with the difference that he went to New York and you didn’t be able to find a home until Sam made you a call. He was quite the opposite of Bucky for you, connecting since the very first second you met. After he told you about his sister’s financial trouble, he offered you a roof to sleep under in exchange for your powers to control the tide and promote the movement of fish stocks. Of course, it was a hit, and you finally found peace in Delacroix. A celebration was inevitable, it was part of Wilsons’ DNA, but you weren’t expecting Bucky to show up with Sam; although he told you in your last call that they were working together. Or something like that.

As soon as your eyes laid on him among the crowd, you knew he had changed after more than six months without seeing each other. You couldn't help but feel happy for Bucky when you saw him smiling for the first time. He had a beautiful and innocent smile, seeming like a new man. Renovated, with want to live, enjoying playing with kids and talking to old men about war stories.

You had placed your back against an oak column, away from the crowd but close enough to check on everyone, in case they need help with anything. A beer was resting against your lips, doubting on continuing drinking, lost in your thoughts. There was something about Bucky going from one side to another, laughing unworried, that had fully captivated your attention. You weren't able to stop looking at him, chuckling when you saw one of Sam's nieces putting a magnet with the form of a crab on his left arm.

“I have that teen-in-love's face on camera”.

You frowned at Redwing some inches away from your face. As a response, you tried to slap it down. But your friend was faster than you controlling that thing.

“He looks good, uh?”

“Oh, shut up…” You replied by clicking your tongue and rolling your eyes, having a sip from your drink to put your eyes away to the sea.

“He asked if you'd be here… Just saying”.

“Shut up, Samuel!” You implored, rubbing the bridge of your nose.

As the night went on and the guests started to leave, Sarah asked you to take Jim and Jody home while she stayed there cleaning with his brother about the business. You were exhausted too, and she noticed it. And after saying your goodbyes, you headed to the parking where your car was stationed, carrying the younger Wilson onto your arms —peacefully sleeping— as his big brother was yawning loudly. At that point, you realized that it was going to be a tough mission to put them in the car.

“Wait! Lemme help”.

The male voice coming from behind you made you turn around and before you could react, Bucky was taking Jody from your arms to his. You smirked softly in response, looking for the key in the right pocket of your jacket to unlock the car. The soldier tucked the younger in the back seat, placing the belt around him as Jim occupied the other side of the SUV.

“It's been good to see you”. You said after closing the door, staying outside in front of him.

“Same”. He replied, not knowing what else to say.

Puckering your lips and clapping the key on your palm, you nodded with your chin, feeling the nerves running through your veins. “Good night, Bucky”.

“Good night, (Y/N)”.

You gave him your back, sighing inappreciably, to open the pilot's place and came in.

“He— Hey, wait”.

“Uh?”

“Sam told me… you were tired. I might give you a ride back home. I can wait for him there”. The offering made you glance towards him, already sitting in your car but with a leg rest on the ground. “If you want, I mean…”

Of course he did (...). That son of a bitch had the audacity to push you onto the other. You bit your inner cheek, landing your eyes on the wheel. Yes, you were tired. You woke up at five to sail with Sarah, then you organized the party and cooked for it. You hadn't had a single second of rest during the whole day. And Sam took advantage of it, feeling like he was some kind of Cupido. And you had to recognize that it was also very considerate coming from Bucky.

“I'd appreciate it… actually”. You ended up agreeing, stepping out to give him the keys and ceding your seat.

The ride was silent between the two of you, hearing some quiet indie music playing on the radio while you fought against your brain to stay awake. Luckily, it didn't take him too long to reach Sarah's house —although you were barely keeping your eyes open at this point. Again, he helped you with the kids, walking indoors and following you to their respective rooms. You tucked Jim and Jody on their beds, making sure they were comfy before placing a kiss on their foreheads and wishing them a good night. Bucky had rested his back against the wall, in front of the elder’s room, just waiting for you. And you could swear that you saw him briefly smirking because of the tenderness in your actions.

After closing the last door, you waved your head to urge him to follow you downstairs to the living room. With an exhausted sigh escaping your lips, you let your body fall on the sofa, curling on a side of it to give Bucky some space. You couldn’t help but yawn, turning on the TV by using the control remote.

“It’s good to have a home to come back”.

“Yeah… After all the shitty situations we’ve been through… We deserved a rest, don’t you think?” You replied grabbing a cushion from the floor, using it as a pillow over the armrest. “Sorry, I… I’m deadly tired…”

“Come here, that will hurt when you wake up”.

Bucky didn’t hesitate on beckoning to his arms, taking off his boots heel against heel to place both legs over the coffee table. You didn’t resist, knowing it would be comfier by his way. Sitting up, you lied to the opposite side, being wrapped instantly and snuggled against his warm body. Shameless, you rest your head on his right forearm, practically laying over his lap. But you felt good. You felt like it was a good reward after a long day, rolling down your eyelids and focusing on the caresses in your hair you didn’t know you needed.

For a moment, your mind wandered and fantasized about this last hour being part of your real life. Putting your kids to sleep and then cuddle with your husband till falling asleep. Smell Bucky’s strong and edgy scent. Your hands scratching his back. His fingertips stroking your scalp. Your legs laced (...)

Oh, God, Sam. What did you do?

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[hoe-imaginess]

Hi there! Can I pls request hcs for the founders with a fem s/o who’s always physically unwell as a result of her constant stress and exhaustion, but she neglects it? e.g. constant migraines, vomiting, insomnia. Thank you so much, I hope you’re doing well!

Hashirama

•It’s been tough for you lately. Maybe your schoolwork is too much for you to handle, or maybe your job is too demanding—whatever it is, either way, Hashi notices, and hates it

•But when he voices his concern, you reply like you usually do: telling him not to worry about it, telling him it’s fine because you can handle it, like you always do

•But that’s just the thing: you can’t handle it, and Hashi sees clear evidence of that. You’re in physical pain and there seems to be nothing he can do to help. He doesn’t know how get through to you without feeling like he’s putting an extra load of pressure on you. After all, with everything you’ve got going on, the last thing you need is him hounding you about self-care and acting like your babysitter (even though he’s entirely happy to be your babysitter). He doesn’t want to be another anxiety on your long list. So he’s really at a loss

•It also doesn’t help that you seem to avoid talking about your issues, specifically because Hashirama is a talk-no-jutsu expert and can usually either help you work through your problems, or simply function as an excellent listener and shoulder to cry on

•He tries to compromise with you, tries to ask you to give yourself a break, maybe even just an hour a day. If compromising doesn’t work, Hashi actually starts to beg

•What else is he supposed to do? He’s literally watching you wither away from stress and he doesn’t know what to do about it. And lemme tell you, watching Hashi beg, possibly on the verge of tears, is absolutely heartbreaking

Tobirama

•It’s sort of hard for him to reprimand your unhealthy work ethic when he’s the exact same way. It’s a rare night when you don’t find Tobirama in his office working into the early hours of the morning. He’s a workaholic, but maybe not always to the expense of his health, like you

•He can’t blame you for overworking yourself without calling the kettle black, he can’t tell you to take a break when he certainly won’t take a break. So what to do?

•It bothers Tobirama to see you like this—running on minimum sleep, constantly in pain, and all because you refuse to help yourself. Yeah he can be a bit of an unsympathetic asshole, but it’s different when it comes to his s/o. If it were anyone else, he’d have a hard time really caring when all of these problems are easily solvable. But it’s not someone else. It’s you. And that changes the whole thing

•He’s still bitter about it though. He doesn’t know how to get through to you. His stern remarks about your health turn to scoldings, which turn to debates, which turn to heated arguments. Deep down he feels bad for losing his temper with you, but he can’t help it. Can’t you see what you’re doing to yourself??? It frustrates the hell out of him

•It definitely adds to your stress, but that’s the only way Tobirama can handle this sort of thing. If he feels you’re being stubborn about it then of course he can’t help but get mad. He’s even more mad because he feels powerless in this situation, and there’s nothing he hates more than feeling powerless. Especially when it comes to you  

Madara

• Madara is somewhere between “I understand that it’s not easy to take care of yourself all the time” and “I can’t help you if you don’t help yourself”

• Maybe your stress manifests in your temper; you and Madara get into small fights more often than usual, most of these fights resulting in tense silences for the rest of the night that neither of you enjoy, but can’t seem to work around because you don’t know how to handle your frustrations and Madara doesn’t know either

•The whole situation upsets him. Every time he sees you looking horribly exhausted or rubbing your head because of migraines, it just irks him because he knows how serious this is, but you act like you don’t

•His reasons for being upset are also a little selfish. He can’t help but notice that the more overworked you are, the less attentive you are to him. It’s not that he demands your attention every second of the day, but you’re ignoring him as much as you’re ignoring your own health, and it bothers the hell out of him

•Madara can be a judgmental guy, so it’s not surprising if you find yourself shying away from him while you’re going through this—what if he finds your vomiting and your exhaustion off-putting? What if he finds you off-putting?

•But don’t worry, he’s not thinking that way at all. He’s just worried about you, to the point that it physically hurts him when you’re in pain

[mrs-hollandstan]

More Than Perfect || Sam Holland

Warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of childbirth and the complications afterwards, self-doubt, language?, babiessss, Sam just being a supportive cutie

Word Count: 1,720

Author’s Note: Hopefully you guys enjoy a little bit of dad!Sam. Lemme know :) Also, huge credit to @/marsbudge on Instagram for the picture on the right. She’s amazing in expressing her beauty and is the whole reason I created this piece. Moms/ women in general are fucking superheroes. 

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There was nothing like having a baby. You were told that once you had a little one, your life would change and you would never understand the absolute love you have for this tiny human you'd made. When you and Sam got pregnant with your daughter, he was infatuated with your naked body. The tummy and the thick thighs and the ever growing breasts. Not that you yourself particularly minded being nude around your fiancè or just in general, especially when it just so happened that in the worst weeks of your pregnancy you'd be in the middle of summer. 

When your belly popped towards the bottom, blossoming up the further you got in your pregnancy, Sam lost his mind. He loved the bump and when his hands wandered, it's often where they ended up. More than anything, Sam appreciated the changes your body went through, especially the stretch marks around your thighs, hips, and belly. The boy was obsessed. That's why his Instagram blew up with pictures of your belly, pictures from the baby shower, of the nursery, of her closet, her name board above the crib, and eventually her when she arrived in the beginning of August. 

Virginia Elizabeth was what you named her and Sam, just as much as when she was in your belly, was obsessed with her. She was constantly in his arms and he admired each one of her little features on the daily, dressing her, feeding her (if you couldn't of course), changing her, rocking her to sleep. He was an all around great father. 

Especially because of the pain and exhaustion he inevitably and guiltily felt he inflicted on you. Your bump remained for a few weeks, but what it left, Sam saw, made you slightly depressed. Your feet were still swollen, your breasts were huge but your belly was starting to sag, and the bleeding was ridiculous. You slept most of the time because of the constant milk production and late nights, but Sam didn't mind taking Virginia out into the living room and kitchen, especially if his brothers were over to see their baby girl. 

However, after about a month you'd gotten somewhat used to being a mom and feeding her late at night with Sam right there at your side, giddy smile on his face the entire time at the look of his girls. He loved introducing you as his girls and going to see family and friends with your bubbly little girl in his arms. But something that seemed to remain after all of it was the nudity in your house. 

Sam found that most times he came to find you napping, you were nude beneath the blanket. Not that he minded. Easy access to the skin of your back and belly and thighs. He actually loved the sight and hoped that when he went back to culinary school and eventually went to work as a chef in one of your local restaurants, you'd still be like that, something to look forward to when he climbed into bed with you. 

With a day off from work but not from school, Sam was off in the afternoon and back before the sun started to set, walking up the stoop with a smile on his face. Even a few hours spent away from his girls was torturous. Shouldering the door open, he drops his bag just inside, kicking his shoes off just beside it, 

"Babe?" He calls. There's no reply, a frown covering Sam's face as he walks towards the nursery. He pauses in the doorway of your bedroom when he sees you, smiling to himself. You stand just before your bed, nude with your little girl, only clad in a diaper, in your arms. Your eyes are closed as you sway from side to side, the little one whimpering softly. Walking into the room, Sam stands with his hands on his hips, 

"Look at you two." He says softly. You open your eyes slowly, glancing at him. His smile is so wide you don't know how it fits on his face. He takes a deep, breathless like breath, looking you over, "You two are so perfect." He mumbles before he walks forward again, coming to stand behind you. His hands rest over your hips, lips pressed to your temple, 

"You smell like biscuits." You murmur softly, not faltering in the swaying, even as you lean back against his chest. He chuckles softly, 

"Orange cardamom biscuits. They'd go good with your tea, I'll have to make them sometime for you." He explains softly. You nod, lips pressing against Virginia's cheek. Her little face is turned up towards the ceiling, mouth hanging open as she fights sleep. You sigh, 

"I uhh, I took a shower, put her in that little bouncy thing just outside the shower and she got fussy cause it was hot in the bathroom. So I took her out of her onesie and was holding her and I just... her skin on mine felt amazing. Like yours does. And I miss her. I miss..." Sam can see the tears in your eyes now, "I miss my baby bump and being in the hospital smelling that newborn smell and all that." You tell him. He nods, 

"Its the postpartum peach. You know it'll pass and you'll have so much fun with her when she's older. Plus... the older she gets, the closer we are to havin another one. More of that newborn smell." He reasons. The look you throw him over your shoulder makes him swallow, 

"Alright... yeah, still traumatized from her birth, got it but... you don't have to be so upset. She's still little and perfect... both my girls are, and for the next... what, year, that won't change. She'll get nice and chunky and when she changes, we'll so be ready for it. She'll get giggly and fun and you'll love it. I know you will babe." He reassures. You nod, 

"I know I just can't help it. It feels like someone else is controlling my life, my emotions. I'm sorry." 

"You don't have to apologize Y/N. Your body, your mind are going through a lot of changes. You're maturing and all that. I'm not upset about it. The crying, from you or her doesn't bother me. At least there's some need for me." He half jokes. You smile, looking down at your baby girl. He sighs, 

"I'm really likin this naked thing with you though." He mutters, kissing your shoulder as he molds your hips in his hands. You hum, 

"Sometimes I'm just too lazy to get dressed, other times it's just too hot." You reason. Sam nods, 

"I like it." 

"Oh yeah?" He nods when you glance up at him, "Maybe you should join the party then. I wanna stare at her and she likes daddy's chest." He doesn't even need you to finish the before he's stripping from the grease and oil stained shirt and pants, leaving them in a pile on the floor as you sit at the edge of the bed. You scoot to your side, letting Sam lay down before you before you lay Virginia over his chest. He mumbles incoherently down at her, kissing the top of her head as he strokes down her back. He purrs which makes her whimper, the motion further lulling her to sleep. He glances over at you when you prop your head up on your hand, 

"You're a great father Sam. You've always been an awkward little bean but... when it comes to V, you do amazing." He chuckles softly, 

"Thanks Y/N/N. You two... mean the world." He admits, rubbing up and down your baby's back softly. You sigh, brushing his unruly curls aside, 

"I'm just glad that I don't have to cook. The food you make is excellent and you like doing it and baby loves it too." He laughs again, 

"And that's all that matters is making you both happy." He murmurs. There's a silence that permeates between you for a moment before you stand, finding the thin robe you wear all the time if it genuinely is too hot to wear anything else, 

"What was this... thing you were saying about orange cardamom biscuits?" You ask with a cock of your eyebrow. He smiles wide, tip of his tongue caught between his teeth, 

"I'm starting to think ALL you use me for is food." 

"I feed your little girl from my own body like eight times a day. The LEAST you could do is make bomb fucking food Holland." He hums after a moment, eyes averted from yours and to the little girl laid across his chest. He glances back up, 

"Can we just... have a little longer of this moment? Just a pretty little family before I'm whisked away to slave over a stove." He jokes. After a moment of staring at each other, you sigh, trying to fight your smile before you near the bed again, sitting at his side, 

"Fine Samuel. But only because you're pretty." You lean in to kiss his nose, kissing your baby girl's head just below his chin, "And you too little miss. I just hope you at least get something from me for all the pain and suffering I went through getting you here." Sam reaches up to tuck hair behind your ear, 

"You're a great mumma already. I have no doubt that she'll be witty and perfectly perfect. With a mum like you she'll always know she can never disappoint us with whatever decision or life choice she makes. You'll make sure of it and that's what matters. Raising a decent fucking human being." He says with such passion in his eyes you think you'll faint. You stare at him for another moment before sighing, 

"I love you more than anything on this earth Samuel Holland. Our little family is just perfect right now." You tell him. Leaning up to kiss you, he sighs, 

"Love my girls in all of their beautiful nudity. Love skin to skin." He murmurs. You lay your head against his shoulder, watching your girl sleep. Of course pregnancy and motherhood was difficult, but your fiancè made it so much better and your baby girl was everything and more for the both of you.

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[just-someone-who-likes-to-write]

Soulmate AU

(Requested by: @deathordesire​ :  Hello!! I saw your prompts are open--would you be open to doing Nuada x human female reader? I really like the idea that they are mates or mate au and hes like jajshshe omg humans but likes her and all. Lemme know what you think! )

(A/N): I am sorry for the long wait, and sorry if the story or ending wasn’t as perfect as you would have probably expected, but I still hope that you and others would enjoy it! Sorry if it’s too long!!

Warnings: Grammatical Errors, Gore, harsh words. I don’t know what else to add.

Word Count: 7,021

Now, Nuada remembers the first time he felt that pull for the first time towards you. It happened the night he broke into the human organization where they kept his sister from him, he silently was killing every guard he met on his way, and you were assigned there. Your back was to him as you chatted with your colleague, and he took the chance of your distraction to strike, he sprinted towards both of you, your friend noticed him too late and the only thing he could manage was to open his mouth to warn you, but before he could do it his throat was cut, you were pushed forcefully against the wall and just as he turned around with his sword lifted to slice your throat as well he froze when his golden eyes fill on yours. You looked at him with wide eyes with fear, but his eyes were widened by shock, The hand which held the sword stuck in the air. He could not kill you, for some bizarre reason he could not kill you, it felt wrong, a fatal mistake. He finally moved when he saw you reaching out for your communication device, turning his blade upside down Nuada used the butt of his sword to knock you out unconscious. He stood there over your body starting at down at you, a strange ache started to form inside of him for hurting. Forcing the feeling away, he continued moving to his sister's location, ignoring what had happened with you, but it was difficult for whenever he wasn't preoccupied with other thoughts, an image of you immediately popped into his mind with the question if you were alright. It frustrated him greatly and he promised himself that when he takes over that he will make sure to kill you himself or at least see your dead body, which would be dead by his golden army.

That plan failed of course because here he was locked up in the humans' jail after his defeat against the demon they call Hellboy. Aside from his sister visiting him, he tried to spend his time practicing martial arts and then meditating, which proved to be challenging because for a while you kept popping in his thoughts until finally it was over and he got his peace forgetting about your existence completely. However, those forgotten thoughts came crashing down when he got his freedom by agreeing to help the human against those who threaten the balance between the two worlds, he saw you passing them by when his sister was giving him a tour around the building, you were busy reading papers and didn't notice him, but he sure as Hell noticed you, and from the twinkle familiarity in his sister's eyes as she saw you. Just before she could lift her hand and call for you Nuada brought her hand down and forced her forward and be away from you as fast as possible. Nuala was confused by his action.

 "Why did you do that?" She asked.

 "I don't want to meet any of your human friends." He answered coolly.

 It wasn't a lie but it wasn't the true answer either, which left Nuala feelings suspicious before shrugging it off and continuing the tour. Nuada knew that meeting you was inevitable but he still hoped not to have to meet you face to face. But here you were assigned to be the one who teaches him the rules in the training room and to his surprise and dare he say relief, you didn't show fear as most humans do. You just kept a nonchalant façade.

"… And of course, when you do train use nonlethal weapons, so we  can avoid accidents." You said as you pointed to the training equipment.

 "Don't try to give me orders human." He threatened but you looked unfazed, you turned to him and looked him in the eyes as you replied.

 "Or what? You will knock me out again?" You asked calmly. "Because if you took a good look around you can see that we are being watched."

 And you told the truth, you were being watched not only by a couple of humans who were there to train but also by the security cameras. Nuada growled down at you but you only smirked in return.

 He tried so bad not to smirk bad.

 He didn't understand the sudden fascination he felt towards this single human, whom later he learned her name was (Y/n), but one thing she knew is that it was bad and he needed to stop it. Remembering how time away from her helped him forget her he did his best to avoid (Y/n) and that's by locking himself in his new room and have his food brought by his sister, and if he needed company he would seek out his sister later at night when he is sure you didn't have a night shift in it, but even that was disturbed by the presence of the creature they call Abraham. The one being who was able to steal away his sister from his side. He loved seeing his sister happy, he really does, but he hated that her sore of happiness came from someone other than himself.

 "I do not understand why him." Said Nuada, when he and Nuala were alone. "Centuries ago, suitors from different clans and even different races came forward asking for your hand in marriage, and even though I despised them all, most of them was a better choice than him."

 "You still don't know?" Asked Nuala with an amused smile.

 "Know of what?" He asked.

 "Abraham is my fated mate." She answered with a shy smile.

 Nuada was shocked and left to be alone for the rest of the evening and a few more days. Nuala tried reaching him but he didn't answer, so she left him to his thoughts, believing that he was upset with her. However, Nuada was not, it was true that he did not approve of her mate but Abraham was nonetheless. Humans would call it a myth but having a "Fated Mate" was very much true, their senses were just far weaker than the supernatural beings senses, so they can never feel it when they meet "The One". They will never know how life will suddenly feel empty without them, how they will suddenly feel they have a purpose, how they will do anything to be by them. They won't be able to live without their touch, to hear her sweet laughter echo in the air, to see the shine of her bright eyes as she succeeded in something, the sound of her soft voice in his head, how his every thought… will be… occupied… by only… Her…

 Nuada shoots up at that last thought, his eyes widened in realization.

 "No…No no no no no no " He kept muttering to himself as he based around his room.

 It cannot be possible, his mate can never be a human. For centuries he dreamed of a life with a soul that was meant to him and he for them, but now, here he was with the possibility of his other half being a human. Nuada would rather live the rest of his life alone than being mated to a low-life human. In fact, an idea of a human mate sounds so absurd that Nuada was determined to prove it wrong.

 He decided to ignore her and not by leaving the same room she enters, but by ignoring her presence as if she was never there. He went to the training room at a time he knew (Y/n) would be there, as long as he doesn't think or even glance at her as he did his own training. It was difficult at first, his neck ached with every time he almost turned around to see (Y/n) at the sound of her voice but as the string warrior he is, he resisted the temptation to even glance in her direction. It was going to be a success, he could have walked out of the room, training finished and mind free from the human, but one pull, one simple feeling of pull urged him to glance at you from over his shoulder, and that's when he saw you on the floor staring with wide eyes at your opponent who was holding what looked like a glaive over his head ready to strike her. the next few moments were a blur but when Nuada realized his surrounding he found himself point the glaive at (Y/n)'s opponent who was now on the ground eyes staring at the edge of the blade in terror, and Nuada was feeling… fury.

 "You Imbecile!" He shouted. "The rules clearly stated to not use real weapons for a reason, if any harm came to (Y/n) I would-"

 He stopped the flow of his words when felt the gentlest touch on his shoulder, he turned and saw that it was a very worried (Y/n), who tried her best to put on a brave face, whether her worry was for what almost had happened to her a few moments ago or because he was holding a weapon so close to a humans neck, he didn’t know.

 "It's alright Nuada, he was just being irresponsible, but he learned his listen now." She turned to look at the fallen human. "Didn't you?"

 The human man only nodded profusely. Nuada felt (Y/n)'s soft tug on his arm, silently pleading him to spare him, and slowly he did pull away, then threw the weapon to the ground and hurriedly left the room ignoring the calls of his name, which gave a small ache in his heart for ignoring it. That night Nuada stayed in his room with his face buried in his hands trying to comprehend that he was going to draw blood and risk his freedom for (Y/n)'s sake. He doesn't even feel regret towards his action, rather a great relief to know that she is safe thanks to him. Nuada placed his left hand over his right arm, specifically over the spot that (Y/n)'s hand was on to stop him. His brows furrowed in discomfort when he remembered the look on her face, and his ears are still ringing from her voice calling him, he wanted nothing more than to go to her room to not only make sure she was safe but to apologize for ignoring her. With a groan of anger, Nuada retired to his bed and forced himself to sleep, ignoring the little voice in the back of his head that screamed at him to find their mate immediately. But the elven prince only closed his eyes and drifted into sleep hoping to escape the (H/c) headed girl only to find her invading his dreams, with sweet smiles and laughs and she gazed at him lovingly.

 ---

 "What do you mean she left?" Asked Nuada in a low threatening tone to the frightened man.

 He had come to the training room again to try and ignoring (Y/n) presence successfully this time, but deep down it was truly to see her again. However, when she was an hour late Nuada approaches the same man that he almost killed for almost harming his mate, and asked him of her whereabouts and when will she be around, only to be told that she left later that same night. She was taking a vacation for who knows how long and to where. If Nuada didn't remember the cameras that are watching him he would have probably slide the human's throat in frustration, he simply just left the room, having no longer the motivation to train.

 "Because (Y/n) isn't there for you to impress."

 Nuada just shook his head at the small voice, which had been taunting him for a long while now. He doesn't need to impress her or prove to her anything.

 "Yes, you need to prove to her that you are a capable mate whom she deserves."

 Nuada let out a loud groan that made everyone around him flinch away in fear of his sudden foul mood, escaping being the source of his relief, which means a trip to the infirmary. That's it. He needed to escape those damned thoughts that had been plaguing his mind, and meditation cannot help him anymore, he needs to shed blood, to fight. So he quickly changed his directions to reach the human in charge and demand to be sent on a mission even if it was as simple as a patrol. He needed to escape everything and anything that reminded him of (Y/n).

 ---

 You couldn't wipe away the grin from your face as you casually walked through the hallways while keeping an eye open for one special elf prince. Your colleagues had texts you multiple times over your time away and informed you of how Nuada kept asking about your whereabouts, how long will you take away, and who were you with. Your friends thought his actions were weird, but for you, it was a sign that your attempts to befriend him are working so well. He had indeed killed your colleagues in front of you, massacred many, tried to raise an ancient army to erase humanity from existence and rule overall. However, you couldn't ignore the reasoning behind it, he lost everything and he only did what he thought was right. Besides all that Nuala had told you many stories about him, how truly good and kind he was, how the war between the two worlds of humans and supernatural had ruined his mind, you could tell that there were many other reasons for Nuada's hatred towards humans but you didn't push any further with questions and just settled with what you know now. And so, when Nuada was finally free you decided to try and befriend him or at least make him feel welcomed, which proved difficult because he would snare at any human who tried getting too close to him and avoiding you like the plague. You believed that he was avoiding for the reason that his intimidation acts didn't work on you and since he can't harm you physically he decided to escape your presence.

 Until that incident in the training room.

 Your training partner was getting annoyed with the many times you kicked his butt in hand in hand combat and he thought he could at least try and intimidate you to put you in line and what better way to do so than use a freaking glaive against you. You could easily dodge his clumsy strike, but you accidentally tripped on your back, and since you had no time to move you just closed your eyes shut and waited for the pain. However, it never came, and when you opened your eyes to see the reason you were met with the back of the Elf prince who was not only yelling at the stupid man but also pointing the weapon to his neck ready to slaughter him. That made the flashback of when he slaughtered the man in front of you start and you felt as if someone dumped cold water down your back. Despite your obvious fear, you moved forward to stop him, which thankfully worked. When he left you chased after him to at least thank him for saving you but before you could go too far another agent pulled you back and told you to follow him to Manning's office to discuss what had happened.

 You are a great agent, one of the very best, but because of your gender Manning still saw you as a vulnerable thing, and that's why he offered you a fully paid vacation to calm your nerves. The man can be great at times, but most of the time he acts in a way that makes you wanna punch him in the face. However, it is rare to get a vacation in such a long time and a paid one too, so you didn't let the chance slip away from your hands. Then a few days later you were spammed with messages of how Nuada is asking about you and being more agitated than usual after your absence. You didn't want to lift your hopes up but you couldn't help the feeling of excitement you felt as you shortened your vacation to only one week just so you can hurry back and try again to befriend Nuada. The others either thought you mad out outcasted you because of it, because not only are you trying to befriend a prisoner but also the being that killed their friends and partners. You tried to explain to them that everyone made mistakes in life even severe ones and deserve a second chance, but they didn't listen. You understood their reasoning and forgave those who gave you dirty looks.

 Turning to another hallway and stopped in your tracks when you saw in the distant Nuada conversating with his sister who seemed to be very worried, however, most of your attention was on him, you had to take deep breaths to calm your beating heart. You didn't know if it was because of your teen attraction for bad boys returning, or because you reached a level of desperation that you would look any male even the murderous Elf in a different light, but what you know is deep down inside you, you could feel something the urged you to approach Nuada, you could have easily ignored it, but you always trusted your gut and now here you were.

 You took one last deep breath before walking forward to the royal siblings.

 "Hey, Nuala!" You called with a smile, and you could swear that from the corner of your eye you saw Nuada tense at your voice.

 "(Y/n)!" Nuala greeted back. "When did you return?"

 "I came back yesterday." You answered before stealing a glance at the prince who was avoiding your gaze but when your eyes met your cheeks flushed lightly at the sight of his golden eyes, but held yourself together. "Hello there."

 You tried to greet him but he only groaned before again ignoring you, your smile flattened, you didn't feel hurt just sudden nervousness because you truly believed that he would at least return the greeting. Nuala however, mistook your small frown as sadness and she turned to him.

 "Brother, don't be rude and return the greeting." She lectured. "It is the least you could do."

 "Why should I?" He retorted. "She is just a simple human."

 "A simple human who you ask about?" You couldn't help but ask.

 You caught his eyes slightly widen, which confirmed that what you have been told was true. Nuala turned to you a look full of bewilderment on her face.

 "He asked for you?" She asked, You nodded.

 "Yes, well, at least that's what I have been told." You answered truthfully. You heard him scuff pulling both your and Nuala's attention towards him.

 "And what if I have?" He asked rhetorically. "Don't get over your head human."

 "It's alright if you did ask." You assured, hoping that maybe he was just, dare you say, shy at being caught. "I mean after what happened last time I thought-"

 "You thought wrong." He interrupted. "The reason for my action was to prevent myself from being accused of something I wasn't the cause of. I did not do it for the likes of you."

 "Oh…" That was all you managed to say.

 You could feel a sting from his words, and it must have shown because Nuala rushed in front of Nuada to stop him.

 "Brother, what you said was uncalled for." She lectured. "(Y/n) is a very nice human, she only wants to befriend you, like how she did with me and everyone else."

 "Befriend me?" He asked with a mocking grin. "She is only trying to make herself feel better by acting nice, that's how all humans act, I have seen it many times beforehand."

 He turned to you his golden eyes staring directly into your own.

 "You are a leach." He said pushing his sister away to take a few steps closer. "You slither into those who are marked outcast by everyone else, and act as if you were "Different" from everyone else, that you "Cared", but all you truly care about is to walk around with said "New friend" as you silently say how you are better and superior to everyone else only because you did something that no one else dared to do."

 You stared at him with wide eyes at his accusations, and that seemed to only confirm his words to him.

 "I know what the other humans say when you befriended Hellboy, Abraham, and now my own sister." He sneered. "I will not be added to your pathetic list of small victories."

 "I…I don’t have…" You tried to say but he cut you off again.

 "Let's say you did not have a list, and you only did all that out of the Kindness of your heart. " He said the last part mockingly. "What made you believe that I would ever accept a pathetic human such as yourself a friend?... A human who can't even protect herself, I am amazed at how did you get a job here when you almost died only by my hands but also by a colleague of yours, who knows how many times you were lucky enough to escape your doom by being protected or have another human take the fall for you. You can't even protect how on earth can you protect humankind."

 You said nothing.

 "If the Red demon wasn't among you, you would have been dead by now, or a slave serving as a footstool for me." He stomped his foot at the last part making you let out a gasp of surprise and take a cautious step backward.

 Nuada stood his ground waiting for you to run away in fear of him like any other human would, But you didn't. You slowly lifted your head up to finally meet his eyes again and he could feel his heartache at the Hurtful look you had in your eyes as you gave him a weak smile. He could feel his body slightly shaking with regret, his instinct told him to fall on his feet and as for your forgiveness as he did everything to restore your beautiful smile once again.

 "I'm sorry, Prince Nuada." You said in such a polite tone, losing your friendly act, treating him like the royalty he was.

 "Please don't…" He tried to say but couldn't.

 "I did not mean to offend you in any way."

 "I was the one who let his pride take over!"

 "But please now that my actions towards you were only genuine."

 "I know!.. You are the sweetest creature on earth, who wants good for all!"

 "I will respect your wants and needs, so from now on I will stop approaching you."

 "NO!...No please don’t!"

 "I will be leaving now."

 You said before giving but him and Nuala a polite nod and turning on your heels to leave. He almost shot his hand forward to stop you from walking away, but Nuala got between the two of you with a very angry look on her face.

 "How could you say these things to her?" Asked Nuala in a hissed tone, never did Nuada see her so angry with him, disappointed yes, but not angry and he would have been concerned if he wasn’t already feel punished enough.

 Nuada was staring at you and you continued to walk away, his sister kept lecturing but he didn’t her hear, her voice a muffled background noise as he saw you turn a corner and disappear from sight making the ache greater, he was pulled out of his train of thoughts when he realized that his sister was quite…..and that his hand is being held. By instinct Nuada flinched backward away from Nuala, already realizing what had happened. His eyes were wide with horror, while his sister’s eyes were wide with realization. His shock then became anger.

 “Brother, You-“

 “I told you many times to NEVER read my thoughts!” He screamed angrily at her making her flinch.

 Nuada let out an angry growl before turning around and leaving to anywhere he can, to escape not only (Y/n) but also his own sister. He could hear Nuala trying to run after while repeatedly saying sorry and asking him to stop walking away but he didn’t and when he saw how she won’t stop chasing after him he started running from her knowing very well she won’t be able to catch up to him. After taking a few turns and knowing that his sister won't be able to catch up to him Nuada slowed down and made his way to Manning's office to request time out in the open green area to meditate because Gods know he needs it to calm his nerves and collect his thoughts. Because not only did he chase you away, for good this time, but also because now his sister knows of what is he feeling and what is happening in his head… Deep down in his head… that part which he still refuses to listen to.

 Even though he knows he is right by now.

  ---

 Nuada was in the moving vehicle with Abraham and Hellboy, heading to the next mission in some small town.

 "They said that it was only adult humans who went missing one or two at first, but then the numbers started to grow that even children were nowhere to be found." Said Abraham.

 "Anything in common with them?" Asked Hellboy.

 "The only thing is that they all disappeared near the forests." He answered, looking up from the file. "They went in but never came out."

 Hellboy cursed under his breath at the mention of children's possible death, ever since the breath of his own dear twins the topic of children's death on missions became a sensitive topic. Nuada however didn't care for all that, the only thing that plagued his mind was the human who was ahead of them in another vehicle with other human agents who were sent alongside them, this is the closest he had gotten to her since their last encounter.

 The prince believed that it would be for the best that things remain the way they are, she would continue with her life, find someone to share it with, start a family to grow old with, and then… And then he would die of old age, feeling happy and continent, while he would continue living to pay for his crimes and then devote himself to his people, he knew the next step would be marrying an elf to produce a hire to take his place in the future, but such thought made his stomach turn in disgust, that it was wrong. Then maybe he should make his future niece or nephew the hire to the throne after him because as much as he doesn't like it, his sister will have children of her own even if it was with the bluefish, and if he did decide to grow old and alone they will take his place.

 "We are here." A human called from the front pulling Nuada out of his thoughts, that when he realized that the vehicle they were in had stopped a long while ago. He followed Hlleboy and Abraham out.

 The human was already setting things up and preparing to venture into the forest. As he scanned the area he caught you rechecking your magazines and filling those who were not full with more bullets. He couldn’t help the small smile he had at the determination you showed after finishing your preparation, unknown to him Abraham had noticed it and he had a look of pity for the Elf Prince.

 “Alright, we will split into teams and because we don’t want any incidents Nuada and Red will be separated each one will be put in a human group.” Explained the human who was put in charge of this mission.

 Nuada immediately joined a human group that (Y/n) wasn’t a part of and red joined another. Abraham stayed back to give instructions in case what they are dealing with was new. As the two groups ventured into the forest Nuada stayed on high alert listening to anything or anyone. After almost an hour of just walking deep into the wood, a sudden movement made everyone tense and turn to pint their weapons in the direction of the sound. However, all the human agents let their guns down when a beautiful human woman with long black hair and pale beaten skin run towards them, she looked tired and terribly scared, when she saw them she started to cry in relief.

 "Finally some help!" she cried out. Nuada who was the only one who still had his weapon up brought his silverlance close to the woman's throat but was pushed away by the other humans who circled the woman to add her.

 "What are you doing you psycho!" Said the man. "This is a human being we should take her back to get treatment."

 "No!" Cried the woman as she slightly pulled away from the men. "My friends are still in danger, we should go and save them!"

 "Of course Ma'am, just tell us where they are." Said the man but she still shook her head.

 "I don't remember the directions, but I can walk you there."

 She pulled away completely from the group of men to go in the same direction she came from when Nuada was sure that no one would stop him this time he charged forward and used his silverlance to decapitate the woman's head. As her limp body and head fell to the ground one of the men who were in shock charged at him to grab him by his collar.

 "You killed a human woman!" He screamed. "I will make sure that you will rot in jail for a long-"

 "Uhh…Simon." One of them called.

 "What!?" Said the human named Simon angrily.

 His anger quickly melted away and he pulled away from Nuada when he saw the woman's body twitch and change form into that of a big black horse whose mouth and part of his head looked as if it was in the middle of decomposing for the skeleton was showing. That image however was gone quickly as the body melted into a disgusting black goo. The human men looked petrified by the sites, Nuada was the only one who came forward to inspect the goo.

 "W...What in the hell was that!?" Asked one of the men quietly as to not drow any more of those monsters towards them.

 "That thing was as you human call it a Kelpie." Explained Nuada. "A malicious creature who live near the water, they can shapeshift into beautiful women or horses to lure their victims so they can drown them and devour their dead corpse."

 The men looked at each other in fear before they instinctively took a fighting position and pointed their guns around them in case another Kelpie showed up. Nuada just sighed at their action and refrained from giving any harsh comments about their idiocy. He scanned the area and he could hear, see, and sense nothing, there wasn't any other Kelpie around. He brought a hand to activate the earpiece he was given to contact everyone else.

 "I know what we are up against." He informed.

 "What is it?" Asked Hellboy.

 "It's a Kelpie." He answered. "A shape-shifting being who can take the form of beautiful women or horse."

 "What!?" Exclaimed Hellboy in the speaker making Nuada want to pull the device away but he stopped when he heard the next thing.

 "(Y/n)!.. Get away from that thing!" Her scream can be heard as well as the beast who let out a victorious roar. "The bastard got (Y/n)!"

 Never did Nuada move so fast. He ran through the forest looking around frantically for any sign of you or the beast. A few gunshots were fired from the distance and Nuada ran towards it. He dodged the trees and leaped over the rocks. His mind was flashing images of your dead mutilated body floating above the waters after it had been devoured by the Kelpie, taunting him on how he could have avoided such tragedy by staying by your side and keeping you safe and sound away from all trouble.

 "You killed our mate"

 Sid the voice repeatedly torturing him further, memories of the last encounter with your came back reminding him that if (Y/n) was truly dead then his last moment with her was him hurting her feelings and being a bastard and that's would probably her last memory of him, being an Entitled Bastard. When Nuada finally reached them he saw how a group of humans were shooting two Kelpies but their bullets were in vain as they regenerated easily, however, when Hellboy shot his special bullets the Kelpies died instantly. That all did not matter to him, Nuada looked around and he saw you kneeling on the ground, you were grasping your right hand which was bleeding, and to either side of you was a human who were aiding you, but most importantly you were still alive. Nuada felt great relief when he saw no major injuries on you but it was short-lived as he saw other Kelpies coming near you, probably smelled your blood, He charged forward and swiftly decapitated one then stabbed the other straight on its forehead, both letting out one last screech before dissolving into goo. He turned to you and kneeled beside you. Looking at you closer he could see your arms, legs, and face are filled with small cuts that were bleeding, but your right hand, however, was bleeding heavily.

 "What happened?" He asked as he dropped his weapon down to examine your wound.

 "What are you doing here?" You asked in bewilderment.

 "To save you." He answered honestly ignoring his pride after the thought of losing you, His answer made your eyes wide with shock. You opened your mouth to say something but were cut off when you heard Hellboy's gunfire a couple of times.

 The Kelpies were growing in numbers determined to kill all of them and you knew that Red's special bullets will run out. You Turned to Nuada.

 "Forget me." You said pulling your injured hand away from his hold. "Go help Red."

 Nuada turned to the group of humans and demon who are struggling to keep the creatures away, being fueled by anger at the thought of one of them daring to kill his dear mate, Nuada lifted his weapon again and charged at them. He stabbed one of them in the middle causing it to screech in pain before dying. He turned to the humans who were still shooting with their guns.

 "Your weapons are useless." He said before stabbing another Kelpie. "These creatures only die from silver and Holy weapons, so if you truly want to help then take those who have been injured back and return with at least silver bullets."

 The men looked at him with astonishment before nodding and doing as he ordered, however, a few of them remained insisting on being able to help. Nuada looked over his shoulder one last time, catching you being taken away to safety made him feel great peace despite his current situation. Nuada turned around with the goal of inhalation this nest of abominations that threatened his beloved.

 ---

 When you opened your eyes from what felt like a long sleep, which for some reason you still felt a bit tired after, you winced at the brightness of the room and the pure white ceiling didn't make it any better. That when you realized you weren't at home. You blinked a couple of times and saw that you were in the infirmary surrounded by the familiar deep blue curtains that separated you from neighboring beds and gave you privacy. You tried to lift yourself up but silently grimaced at the shock of pain that came from your right hand forcing you to lay back down. You slowly lifted your right hand up to examine it and saw that it was wrapped heavily but neatly with bandages, that's when you remembered what happened and how did you get injured in the first place, which the thought of it embarrassed you, but then you remembered Nuada. The way he was concerned with your injuries made you almost think that he was the one feeling the pain ten times more.

 "You are awake." A familiar calm voice said pulling you from your train of thoughts.

 You didn't need to lift your head for he quickly seated himself at the empty chair that was to your left. His worried golden eyes searched your face and body for what you assumed is pain. Out would be lying if you didn't say that you were touched by his concern for you. You again tried to lift yourself up but his hand gently pressed your shoulder down.

 "Please don't move." Urged Nuada. "You healer said that you might need more rest."

 "No, I said that she can leave whenever she wakes up just to make sure she doesn't overdo it." Said the doctor from his desk that was nearby, If looks could kill the doctor would have been dead on her chair from the way Nuada glared at her unseen direction.

 "I'm fine, Your majesty." When those words lift your mouth Nuada gave you a pained look that you never thought he was able to make. He lowered his head

 "Please, Don't address in such a formal way." He almost begged. "call me by my name, as you used to."

 "I thought you hated it." You said and you could see his body tense at your words before he relaxed a bit.

 "I apologize for what I have said."

 You were so shocked at what he said you you shot up from your bed to at least set straight to face him properly. Of course your sudden movment made him flinch.

 "Alright, who are you?... and what did you do to prince grumpy?" You said skeptically, Nuada blinked a couple of times before he let out a small chuckle.

 "I assure you, my dear" He answered.

 The room was quiet for a while both of you not knowing what to do or say. You were happy that is true, him treating you so friendly was very good but what made it awkward for you is that it was … so suddne. What changed?

 "How did you injure your hand?" Nuada asked breaking the silence. You looked down at your bandaged hand. "You lost consiosness from bloodloss on our way back to the headqurtars."

 "It's kind of embarrassing." You said with a weary grin.

 "I would never laugh at you." He said in such a serious, which made him even odder to you.

 "Well.." You started. "We were searching around for the reason of people going missing when we saw a beautiful white horse grassing, it looked so harmless and gentle. I don't know why, but I had the sudden urge to brush its coat, and just before my hand touched it Red told me to stay away."

 "But it was too late." Sdi Nuada and you nodded.

 "my hand was stuck as if it was some kind of super glue or something.  The next thing I knew what that I was being dragged away by the beast who was running away from Hellboy. I tried to pull away but it only brought me close, and when I saw that its skin was about to cover my hand I did the one sensible thing I could think of." You shrugged as you looked down at your right hand. "And it was to shoot it off of it, and it worked but with a price. I feel stupid to have let my guard down like that."

 "You should feel that way." Said Nuada making you look to him. "The Kelpie has Hypnotic powers that draw in their prays, even if you were not human you would still fall for it."

 "Wow, you know so much about them, considering you were the only one who knew how to kill them." You said in amazement.

 "I have, unfortunately, encountered those veil creatures before." He confessed.

 "Really?" You asked and he nodded.

 "When I and Nuala were kids one of them almost took her away if not for the guard who was set to watch us she wouldn't have been here now, neither would I." He continued. "After that, I spent ages of my life to train my mind to never fall for their or any other creature hypnosis again."

 "Amazing, so you are trained body and mind." You winked at him trying to tease him. "the full package for a very lucky girl."

 Nuada stared at her for a long while rethinking his choise in telling you the truth. The moment he stepped foot back here he had prepared a thorough explanation of what mates were, followed by a speech of his love and devotion to (Y/n). How he would never let his pride take the best of him, that he would be the ever-loving mate she desires and the strong mate she deserves. But considering their first few encounters together, Nuada feared that suddenly doing so would scare his (Y/n) away, for in the end she is human so she can't feel the bound yet… But it can grow. He decided to give it time, to strengthen their bond by starting all over again, it will take time, that is true but Nuada was prepared to work hard to win (Y/n)'s love and affection the way humans do. For now, he will be the friend she deserves.

 "On the contrary my dear." He said with a smile. "I will be the one who is lucky to have her."

--- 

I hope you guys enjoyed this one, sorry that it’s very long, i enjoyed writing this version of Soulmates AU I should look into it more often in case it got requested again or I write a story about it. and just a reminder, I don’t take requests at the moment, sorry.

[violetlilysunshine]

Late Night

Chris Evans x Female Reader

Summary: You meet Chris working in a bar, before he invites you to his house after closing.

WC: 3,525

Warnings: maybe a quick make out?? idk if I need to warn that, but better safe then sorry. Fluff, fluff, fluff 

A/N: I’m sort of feeling a part two, because I’ve been in such a fluffy turned smutty mood recently. Anyone down?? Lemme Know :)

Tagging the lovelies that wanted this! @maximeevansblog @saltyflowermakertaco

MASTERLIST

You’ve been working in this small bar for years now; it mainly catered to older folks, the owners having fallen in love with the 40s and 50s and themed their bar after that. You quickly fell in love with the decades as well, hearing the old music and seeing all of the older people’s faces light up, reliving their glory years. However, usually, there were a couple younger groups there to relish in the theme a bit.

You started as a waitress at 18, trying to work your way through college. Quickly, you moved up to bartender, before one slow night when you randomly decided to sing along to one of the songs that the Thursday night live band always played. They were a pretty good group, and you soon found yourself listening to the songs they played in your free time. After you sang with them, the owners decided to add you to the regular Thursday night entertainment, still bartending on other nights.

You were nearing the end of your set, just two more songs to go before you could take off the heels you had ridiculously decided to wear tonight. They were very 50s and you loved the look, but, carelessly, you hadn’t broken them in yet. You thought you would be fine, but your typical little dance during Fly Me to the Moon had suffered greatly. However, they matched your midi-navy-polka-dot dress and your pin-up style curls, so it wasn’t a total loss.

“Alright everybody, we’re getting close to that time of the night,” you hummed into the microphone, “for this next one we’re gonna slow things down a bit. To those of you I’ve been watching sit in your chairs all night, you’ve only got two more chances to ask your ladies to dance. Even if you don’t know how, ask her anyway, she'll love it.” you joked.

The band started to play Paul Anka’s Put Your Head on My Shoulder, a personal favorite of yours.

“And remember, if anyone needs a partner, I’m ready and willing,” you joked as the intro played. Quite a few times, older men who no longer had a partner took you for a spin for a song or two and you loved it.

You hummed a bit before you started singing along.

As you were singing, you watched a few of the younger guys in the back finally bring their girls out on the floor. Smiling as you watched them, you swayed back and forth.

You kept going with the song, almost at the end, glad that someone hadn’t asked you to dance, because your feet were really killing you.

You finally finished it off, earning a small applause as you twirled with the mic.

“Alright y’all, last song of the night and you know what that means as well,” you spoke to the crowd, “last call for alcohol,” you sang out.

You pointed back at the bar, and your friend who was tending tonight, before she waved at the group. A few people left the dance floor to get a drink as you continued your end of the night spiel, “fellas still sitting by themselves, last chance to take a spin on the floor. I see you still sitting there in the back! It’s a short song, I promise,” you chastised the last table you saw still sitting there.

Two couples from that table got up to dance, leaving one man sitting by himself. You felt kind of bad for turning everyone’s attention to him, but you had offered earlier to dance if anyone needed a partner, so the ball was in his court.

You signaled to the band to start up and spoke, “alright here we go,” into the mic.

It’s Been a Long, Long Time kicked off, and you instantly swayed. The band didn’t usually play this song, but after your Marvel obsession kicked in, you convinced them to add it to the set list.

You sang away, loving life, but your eyes didn’t leave the man in the back. He was obscured by shadows - probably purposefully - but you felt drawn to him already. Something about him sent tingles down your spine.

Before you knew it, the song was over. You took a small bow before turning and pointing at your band, getting the audience to applaud them individually.

“Thanks everybody, have a good night and drive safe. Hope to see you next week!” you spoke quickly and everyone filed off the dance floor to collect their things.

“Thanks, you guys, that was a good show!” you spoke to the band before you rolled up your mic cord and packed it away backstage. As soon as it was safely in its case, you took a seat on one of the saxophone cases and started rubbing your feet.

Soon, the band came back to put their instruments away and you reluctantly gave up your seat. You headed to the bar to sit with your friend while she finished cleaning up; this gave you a chance to rest your feet a little more before attempting to maneuver yourself home.

You glanced around the room quickly and everyone had cleared out except the back table. They were all standing, putting on jackets, and just beginning to file out the door. The couples went first hand-in-hand, followed by the single man. You looked back at your friend and began to make small talk about the next night, seeing as you were off, before you felt a tap on your shoulder.

“That was a great set,” the man spoke out in a low raspy voice, “I wish I had a dance partner.”

“Thank you, but if I remember correctly, I did offer to dance with anyone. Anyone included you, Chris,” you quipped back lightly, chuckling.

“Well, doll, the way you were stumbling about up there, I didn’t want to risk it,” he joked back, “and you know who I am?”

“I’m gonna head in the back to finish cleaning up and then we can go,” your friend spoke, gently tapping your forearm. You usually carpool to work because you live a few houses down from each other and it just makes sense.

“Alright, sounds good,” you answered her before turning back to Chris, “well I did just sing Steve and Peggy’s song. I wouldn’t be doing it justice if I didn’t know at least its major history. And I don’t think I was stumbling.”

“Okay, fair,” he answered, “maybe stumbling wasn’t the right word, but I can tell your feet hurt in those shoes.”

A small silence settled between the two of you as you got lost in his eyes, barely registering what he had said. His lips curled into a small smile as he gazed back. His eyes darted from yours to your lips for only the slightest second, before wandering down to your feet, which you were rolling slightly on the leg of the barstool, attempting to massage them a little. He looked back into your eyes again, his smile growing. The tension in the room rose quickly, and you began to get a little hot under his gaze. You were wondering how you ever got so lucky to have Chris freaking Evans looking at you like that.

“I’d offer to get you a drink, but you did say last call a little while ago,” he spoke slowly.

“That I did,” you answered, “maybe next time.”

“Or, I could take you somewhere else,” he offered lightly, his voice raising in pitch.

“Hmm, I don’t know if my feet are up for it,” you said softly, “and I don’t know where else we would go on a Thursday night. Everyone is probably announcing their own last call.” You were surprised by your own confidence in front of him. You had no idea how you were keeping it together, let alone flirting.

“Another option,” he suggested, “I could offer you a nightcap at my place. Or maybe coffee? A glass of wine?”

“Eager there are we?” you quipped.

“Well, what can I say, that last song did it for me,” he chuckled, “but really, it would be totally casual, no expectations.”

You thought for a moment, weighing the options. He probably wasn’t a murderer, or a kidnapper. He was probably one of the gentlest guys you could go home with, and lord knows you’ve taken a few risks with others.

“Totally casual doesn’t sound too bad.”

“Really?” he asked, “great! Do you have a car here?”

“No, we carpool,” you said, gesturing at your friend who had just walked back into the room.

“Ready to go?” she asked.

“Actually I was going to head out with Chris,” you said, looking at him while you spoke.

“Oh, okay,” she said, her voice dropping slightly, “well, I’ll lock up the front and we can head out the back together then.”

“Great,” Chris answered, his eyes never leaving you.

You slipped your shoes back on and stepped down from your stool. You grabbed your purse from next to you and turned to grab your jacket, which was no longer on the back of your chair. You looked up and saw Chris holding it open for you and you slipped your arms in, your heart swooning wildly. You smiled at each other and followed your friend out the back.

You hugged her quickly, whispering “I’ll send you my location,” in her ear. After all, a girl can’t be too careful.

You followed Chris to his car around the front of the building, where he opened the door for you before jogging around to the driver’s side.

His car was nice, as to be expected, but not flashy and you enjoyed his modesty. It smelled freshly cleaned - a big plus - but also rode incredibly smoothly. You were more than content to drive around with him, listening to pop songs and belting out musicals, but before you knew it, he was pulling into his driveway.

He got out first, stepping out quickly. You waited half a second, sending your location to your friend quickly. As you were reaching for the door handle, it was being pulled from the outside. Always a gentleman, he is.

Chris flashed you a charming smile as you stepped out, swinging your purse over your shoulder.

“This way, darlin’,” he spoke lowly, shutting the car door. His hand was quick to find a home on your lower back, gently guiding you towards the front door.

Once up the stairs, he crossed in front of you, unlocking the door and slowly pushing it open. The alarm on the wall chirped, signaling the opening of the front door. Chris quickly bent down with his hands in front of his knees, preparing for the impact. Dodger came flying around the corner having heard the chirp, and slammed right into his dad’s hands before jumping onto his dad’s legs begging for pets.

“Hey bubba, how you doin’?” Chris spoke to his best friend, rubbing his ears, “this here is Y/N, be nice to her buddy, no jumping.”

Dodger quickly took notice of you and immediately tried to jump onto your legs, a greeting you weren’t necessarily against, but since Chris said no, you quickly pushed your hand down and met him on the ground. He sat at your feet, immediately accepting your presence.

“He never does that!” Chris spoke, shocked at how quickly Dodger took to you.

“What can I say? I must be magic,” you joked and shrugged at him, making him laugh.

“Well let’s move out of the doorway, yeah?” Chris asked before closing the front door behind you.

Chris moved to the side of the hallway quickly; he kicked off his shoes and encouraged you to do the same. You happily followed suit, aching to get those damn heels off again. You sighed in contentment once your bare feet hit the cool hardwood floor, throwing your head back slightly, closing your eyes, and breathing deeply.

“That bad, huh?” Chris chuckled, waiting for you at the end of the hall.

“Oh yeah, I definitely have to get used to those before I try to wear them again,” you answered back.

“Well, follow me and we’ll figure out that drink I offered.”

You set your purse on the bench next to your shoes before following him into the kitchen. He strolled around the island, resting his forearms on the island.

“Take a seat, doll,” he encouraged you, gesturing to the barstools on the other side.

Usually you wouldn’t have obliged so quickly, offering to help him make whatever, but given the state of your feet, you hopped up quickly.

“Alright, so you have a lot of options, water as always, coffee, beer - my personal favorite - tequila, a slew of other liquor, juice, soda, milk, - which would be weird but whatever - wine, take your pick,” he said smiling at you.

“Coffee sounds good to me, to be honest,” you answered quietly. You would’ve chosen beer simply because it was his favorite, but you weren’t a big fan if you’re being honest.

“Coffee it is, gorgeous,” he answered, filling the pot with water and loading in the grounds, “milk, creamer, sugar, black? What do you like?”

“Milk and sugar would be good.”

“You sure? I’ve got peppermint creamer,” he coaxed you.

“On second thought...” you chuckled, taking him up on his offer.

“Alright, doll, peppermint it is,” he laughed.

Soon the coffee was ready and as excited to try the peppermint creamer as you were, you could’ve watched him flutter around the kitchen for days. He handed you a sleek navy blue mug, taking a red one himself.

“Shall we head to the living room?”

“Whatever you want, it’s your house,” you laughed.

“Alright, follow me,” he said, leading the way, “you too, Dodge,” he called over the island. Dodger had been sitting at his feet the whole time, watching his dad.

He settled into one arm of the couch, pulling the coffee table closer to rest your mugs on. He placed his mug down and gestured for you to join him. You sat on the other end of the sofa, gently, looking over at him. He threw an arm over the back of the couch, kicked his feet out in front of him, and turned his body towards yours. Dodger watched you sit down and looked at you, almost saying “you’re in my spot,” before turning around and going over to his bed by the fireplace.

“How’re your feet doing now?” he asked you.

“They’re okay, it may take a few days to recover,” you laughed back, turning to face him as well. You held your mug in one hand, bringing the other to your foot as you swung your legs up at your side.

Chris reached over towards your feet, pulling them into his lap, “here let me,” he spoke.

You blushed lightly at the very domestic action, but who would say no to a beautiful man rubbing their feet? He massaged them gently and you let out a little groan.

“You really don’t have to do that, but you’re so good at it I don’t want you to stop,” you told him.

“Well then I won’t stop, darlin’.”

He looked at you from across the couch, making your heart swoon again. You let out the quietest moan, enjoying the work of his hands, and closed your eyes.

Chris laughed lightly, whispering something to himself under his breath. You were a little lost in the moment, so you didn’t hear him.

“Sorry, what was that?” you asked him.

“Oh, nothing, just talking to myself,” he answered. You knew that wasn’t the case, but let it rest anyway; it couldn’t have been too important.

Chris started asking you about your work and friends and family, what kind of movies you liked, and music preference of course. You asked him as well, really getting to know each other. He had stopped rubbing your feet a long time ago, but kept them in his lap, an arm thrown across them, rubbing your shins and ankles lightly. Dodger was snoring loudly across the room, and had been for quite a long time. The both of you were so lost in the conversation, that you didn’t realize how late it had gotten. You glanced out the window behind him, beginning to see the sunrise.

“Oh my goodness, what time is it?” you asked him, chuckling.

He glanced at his phone quickly, “almost 5:00,” he said with wide eyes, “I didn’t realize it had gotten so late.”

“I’m so sorry,” you said a little embarrassed, “I’ve stayed way too long, I’ll just get out of your hair.” You began to pull your legs out of his lap, but he locked them down.

“You don’t have to leave if you don’t want to,” he spoke quietly, “I’ve really enjoyed your company.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to overstay my welcome…” you trailed off.

“Positive, sweetheart. Please, stay.”

“Okay, if you’re sure,” you asked him, raising an eyebrow. He nodded slightly at you. “Then I'll stay,” you said, settling back into the couch.

“Can I get you another cup?” he asked, gesturing to your mug.

“Sure,” you answered lightly, handing it to him. He got up and trailed into the kitchen. You waited half a second before following him.

Chris heard you walk into the kitchen, turning around to look at you quickly, “sorry, can I get you something else?”

“No, I’m fine,” you answered.

“Oh, well, uh… I would’ve brought your mug back to you,” he chuckled.

“Oh that’s okay, I felt weird just sitting there,” you laughed lightly.

“Oh, okay,” he chuckled back, “well, since you’re here now, can I offer you breakfast?”

You didn’t realize how hungry you’d gotten until he offered, “only if I can help,” you responded.

“Oh well, that’s a deal breaker, darlin’,” he answered, almost seductively.

“Well then no breakfast for me,” you laughed.

He was starving too, only having had a small dinner before he went to the bar last night. He didn’t know when you’d eaten last, so you must be hungry as well.

“Well, maybe there is one way, you can help,�� he said in a high pitched voice.

“What can I do?” you asked quickly.

“Come here,” he said.

You walked around the island you had been leaning on, joining him between it and the cabinets on the wall. Chris extended a hand towards you. You took it quickly and allowed him to guide you closer to him. Once you were fully in front of him, he dropped your hand and grabbed both of your hips. He picked you up quickly, surprising you, before setting you on the counter.

You laughed lightly at him, “okay, now what?”

“Now, you sit there and look pretty while I make breakfast,” he chuckled out, standing between your knees, keeping a little distance between the two of you.

“Chrissssss,” you whine out at him.

“What, doll?” he asks, taking a step closer to you as you wrap your hands around his shoulders.

“I can do more than just sit here.”

“Oh, really?” he asks, taking another step towards you, now standing between your thighs, almost flush to the counter.

“Yeah, I can,” you breathe out, barely able to contain yourself now that he’s slotted between your legs.

“Nope, darlin’, this is enough help. Promise,” he says quietly.

Chris glanced down at your lips quickly before looking back into your eyes. He ran his hands up your thighs, starting at your knees, before settling onto your hips again. The temperature in the room seemed to rise at an unbelievable rate as you stared into each others’ eyes. You could feel his breath on your lips, you were sure he could feel yours as well, the smell of coffee and peppermint radiated between you. He slowly leaned in and connected your lips.

It was like time stood still. He moved one of his hands around to your lower back, pulling your body to the very edge of the counter and flush against his chest. The other hand stayed firmly on your hip, digging in just a little. You wrapped your arms around his neck even tighter as you molded your lips together. He licked your bottom lip slightly, asking for entrance, which you granted. He explored your mouth just a little bit before pulling back, breathless, and resting his forehead against yours.

“Well, that was, uh…” he spoke.

“Yeah,” you answered, breathless as well.

You held his gaze for another second before moving forward and kissing him once again. You pecked him sweetly, before mumbling against his lips.

“I’ll let you cook, as long as you let me clean up,” you laughed a little before connecting your lips again.

Chris let the kiss hang just a little longer than a peck before pulling back completely. He pecked your forehead quickly, before answering.

“No,” he said firmly, turning around and letting out a loud laugh, one you knew so well.

You laughed right back at him, watching him start to cook and shaking your head to yourself. How did you get so lucky?

[silkhy-john]

HEADCANON:

A smaller one this time, cause bebby needs sleep guys (I'll probably just play Radical Red instead of sleeping though lolllllll)

Anyway, I HC that Nico does a lot of quests, way more than the number any of the seven have done.

A good number are normally requests from his father, Demeter, and Persephone, stuff like helping the cthonic gods, or helping Triptolemus and his pursuits (Trip and Nico got past the corn thing. They binge Carmen San Diego after work and discuss stuff), or looking for a rare-ass flower to add to the underworld garden with all relevant sources as very dangerous creatures.

Some are from Chiron, I wrote a piece about one of those, you can ask for the link of you're interested. He doesn't really like the Chiron ones, because it's usually a quest that's too complex for even the seasoned camper's kit, or is an odd quest that relies on the aspects of his powers that Nico isn't completely comfortable with.

The last category is quests that Nico takes up out of the goodness of his own heart (which he insists to anyone who so much as suggests that said goodness exists is "cold and dead").

Nico has made himself a reputation as a helpful individual, and many minor gods reach out to him, basically. It's gotten to the point that the combination of the Persephone/Hades quests + his general reputation as helpful has made him actively interact with MANY other pantheons. He and Walt are good friends, and he helps Anubis get a grasp on powers over death and the limits of the human body.

Whenever he helps the minor gods, they impart blessings on him without his knowledge (boons for my Hades fans out there. Yes, I think Zag and Nico are very similar. Yes, I think they'd be very good friends. Hades (from Hades) would probably tell Zagreus to be "more like that Pluto-Boy" (yes, Hades knows Nico is a son of Hades, but he says Pluto for the distinction)).

The blessings definitely boost Nico's status from most powerful demigod to something closer to a minor god who can die. Zeus isn't comfortable with this. This is sorta like the plot to The Second Life on ao3. Go read that, real good jasercico with Apollico on the side.

Jason uses Nico's acquaintance with minor gods to get help knowing who to build shrines to.

The reason Chiron sends Nico on the most dangerous quests alone (at Nico's request). Nico catches on to how strange it is that he's the only exception the biggest camp rule: absolutely no questing alone. Confronting Chiron about it finally makes him aware of the many blessings he's been given. He becomes more powerful for it, being able to incorporate small aspects of other gods powers to his own. Zeus doesn't like it.

Cupid definitely asks Nico to be his champion. Nico declines.

He also does quests in record time and is a better "quest library/advisor" than Annabeth, simply for the fact that he has more experience than her or anyone else and has interacted with more of the mythos than anyone else. Athena considered offering him a mantle as one of her champions... but she decided not to ask.

And uhhhh.... yeah. That's it for the actual HC. Shitpost time.

Perspehone: Nico, could you get me something?

Nico: what?

Persephone: Lively daylight, the sister-flower to deadly nightshade

Nico: lemme guess, I'll have to go to Eos for this *groans*

Eos: don't start complaining yet, there's sphinges involved

(Sphinges is the plural of sphinx)

(Demeter, Hades, and Persephone are discussing Nico like a good and healthy parental unit. This is definitely not gossip or gloating).

Hades [proudly]: Nico has been looking really healthy lately. I believe all the travelling's helping.

Demeter [conspirationally]: the farm has helped him put on weight and muscle. You should see the way the Ares boys eye him up and the fantasies the Aphrodite and Hermes kids cook up when they get together. And for what? The boy doesn't look in mirrors

Persephone [feeling a bit left out]: he can make a mean cup of tea

Hades and Demeter [simultaneously]: *exchange look* *twin doting faces at persephone*

Iris: I just need someone who won't get trapped and turned into a guinea pig to deliver these for me... you've cross-dressed before, right?

Nico: once. It was literally just once because I was helping Butch–

Iris: yes, yes, so about the cupcakes...

(Butch was fitting skirts for purposes unknown to the shitposter. Something something Jake Mason something something I ship it).

Chiron: I hope this email finds you we–

Nico: I don't like it when the first thing people do is lie to me :/

Chiron [embarrassed]: *clears throat* it's leukrokottai and a single succubus

Nico: cool *face-plants into nearest shadow*

Sadie [puts down burger]: and the goddess in my mind was extremely manipulative and her plans almost fell apart

Isis: *indignant spluttering*

Nico [sipping choccy milk]: yep. Sounds a lot like a certain goat skin gal I know, except she prefers cows to birds

Hera: boy, I will smack you into next century

Hades, Demeter, Persephone [in sync]: *glare meaningfully*

Hera [teeth gritted]: and by that I'll ask Hebe if she can get you to see the next 100 years without being trample by cows

Cupid: so yeah, could you be my champion?

Nico: we've moved the incident, but not that far past it. No.

Hades: *smug*

Athena: I was gonna ask, but I like to avoid embarrassment and the answer no.

And that's it. I wasn't planning to do the shitpost part since I actually want to write something for this idea? So yeah, deuces.

These tags are wild, wild, wild. I didn't need to tag like that LOLLLL. Anyway.

[physicalturian]

[18+] Words of pleasure - Law x F!Reader - Part 5

[No spoilers] [Modern AU - College AU] [She/her pronouns used for the reader, no physical description; Everyone +18] Words : 6269 Archive of our own

Warning : Power play / Dom/sub Dynamics / Control / Stranger / Flirting / Aftercare / Awkwardness … If you feel like I should add more warnings, send me a dm or and ask

– Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4

You: Sup doc, got home safely?

[You sent an attachment]

I chuckled for a second, making myself laugh at the picture of the crazy scientist from Back to the Future I had sent. Then when I looked at it more than five seconds, I just regretted it. “I should have flirted. I should have asked him if he was free soon. But I did that. Wow.” Gathering my stuff, I was expecting him to be asleep but received an answer in no time.

 Trafalgar Law 😷: I’ll admit it’s creative real first text. But don’t send me that shit again, I’m not an old man.

You: Hey, it’s hilarious. You mad because you asked me to call you doc and now you regret it.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I just hope you won’t see that in your head when you’ll think of me, it can easily become a turn off, I think.

You: Damn, what if I’m into older men?

Trafalgar Law 😷: Lucky for you I’m older, then. Why are you still awake?

Trafalgar Law 😷: You should sleep, it’s late and you seemed tensed the entire evening.

You: You’re worried about me? How cute, I thought you were just looking to dick me down.

You: But I’m going to sleep soon, don’t worry hot stuff, I was just showering before bed.

You: Who knows, maybe I’ll dream of you 😉

 I read my message over, and over and as I saw him type and stop a few times I was quick to send another one.

 You: Yeah, ignore that. I’m tired, I’m not pushy promised. But you should sleep too, beauty sleep and all.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Depending on the kind of dreams you’re having, I’ll gladly join you.

Trafalgar Law 😷: You’re cute. I’ll sleep in a few. I still have some things to do, I’ll be sure to send you a text in the morning to ask you what you dreamed of.

You: Right, bold of you to assume I remember my dream. And that I’d share them with you.

You: But please go to bed, it’s getting super late.

[Trafalgar Law 😷sent an attachment]

Trafalgar Law 😷: I’m in bed, don’t worry.

 It was stupid, but I did laugh. He was sitting against his pillows, the simple black bed panel behind him. His hair was a lot messier than usual, but he did not look sleepy one bit. And he was still wearing his dress shirt, which clearly was in no way a pajama.

 You: Funny. You’re a funny guy Trafalgar Law, wow. You’re lucky you’re hot

You: You’re still fully dressed, that’s not going to sleep to me.

Trafalgar Law 😷: If you want to see me naked so bad, you have to work for it.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I did say I’d enjoy you on your knees, it seems like a good place to start. But, all in due time, right?

 Chuckling at his text, I bid him a good night without replying to his innuendo which was more than an innuendo, really. Hopefully, an unspoken promise of a goodtime. I left the bathroom feeling a bit funny inside and put the toy away before sitting back on the bed. I was wearing a large shirt so that I could show my legs if the HandSurgeon asked and sat with my legs crossed on the bed before typing.

 Edelweiss: Back!

HandSurgeon: Your lap is pretty red; how does it feel?

Edelweiss: it’s alright, a bit sore but I like it, it reminds me of yeah… the discipline so yeah, it’s ok

HandSurgeon: Cute, you enjoyed it quite a lot. Maybe you could take more next time if you feel like it.

HandSurgeon: But it’d mean you’d have disobeyed, which you won’t do. Correct?

Edelweiss: yes, I won’t. Sorry…

HandSurgeon: It’s alright, doll.

HandSurgeon: Is there something you enjoyed more this session? Or did not at all?

 Trying to remember the things he had said during the session, I was going to tell him that everything was good until I remembered that small thing he said, that I did not particularly enjoy. I didn’t know if he was going to tell me to just get on with it and try to enjoy it or anything but trusting he wouldn’t get mad I wrote down.

 Edelweiss: I really enjoyed your voice… that’s for sure but I didn’t enjoy being called a bitch in heat?

Edelweiss: it was alright right now though, but I don’t know, I didn’t vibe.

Edelweiss: sorry if you’re more of a degrader than praiser

HandSurgeon: I am sorry, I am indeed more used to be a bit rougher with my partner. I’ll be more careful next time, don’t hesitate to tell me if you don’t like something I do.

HandSurgeon: This is an exchange, we’re both in to enjoy it and have fun. And while I usually degrade, I am very much enjoying telling you how good you are. Even more so seeing how well you react.

HandSurgeon: You did good telling me your color, very good.

HandSurgeon: I believe edging was not in your list, but how did you enjoy it?

Edelweiss: soooo frustrating! And embarrassing to beg alright? But in a good way I guess… a very good way

 Pondering a bit more, I was curious. If we were giving feedbacks and asking questions, I could give it a go.

 Edelweiss: were you annoyed? That I touched myself.

HandSurgeon: Yes. I was. If I had you next to me, I would have brought you to my bed. I would have had you kneeling in the center, with that egg still inside you. The had you stripped down naked and would have looked at you. If you had moved, I’d strike you down. Simple.

HandSurgeon: You’d be begging in no time, really.

Edelweiss: it does sound kinda interesting though

Edelweiss: I’d definitely be up to it if you’d enjoy it

HandSurgeon: I’m sure you’d take it like very well, adding a blindfold to the mix would be even better.

HandSurgeon: You wouldn’t know when I’d strike. Jumping on the bed at the littlest touch. Goosebumps all over that pretty body of yours.

HandSurgeon: Running the tip of my whip over your skin. Barely grazing it. Then gripping the back of your neck and sliding my fingers through your hair. Pulling your head back to see that needy face of yours.

 I wanted to read more of him, see what else he’d do to me. I wanted to do something again. While my sex was sore, I could also feel the throbbing coming back and fuck was I ready to ask him if he had time to do it again. My body must have been moving on the screen, since I saw the new message from the dom.

 HandSurgeon: Stop fidgeting. There won’t be another session tonight, doll. I have to finish working, and you…

HandSurgeon: Well, you need to eat something and drink some water. Go get some food. We can hang up if you want, or you can leave the camera on. I would not mind the little motivation of seeing my girl on the screen.

Edelweiss: I won’t stay long, I have classes tomorrow. Lemme grab some food, I’ll be right there!

Edelweiss: but admit it, you just want to make sure I eat and drink 👀

HandSurgeon: I do indeed. Now, go.

 We then spent around 20 minutes on the call. I stayed with my camera on, still making sure he could not see my face, and ate up. He would reply a bit more slowly than during our session, since he was working, but when he did it was a lot lighter than usual. We talked of our lives, previous partners, preferences but it quickly turned to other topics. TV shows we enjoyed or had in common, hobbies, pets.

 I learnt he liked to sketch, mostly people, he never did art school and never wanted to but loved the human anatomy. He said he found it fascinating. I felt flattered when he suggested we find some free time so that he could draw me. I told him I’d think about it, then we changed topics but kept off the more personal ones, such as family, school and city. The less we knew, the better. It was weird, getting to know him after I had let him do as he pleased with me. But doing so made it more interesting for some reason.

 I did not feel anything much for the man, but I enjoyed his company a lot. I had no plan of meeting him at all, and if I ever found someone, I’d probably stop talking to him, which is something we both agreed on. This was just to get off, this was simply to both find that pleasure of having the power dynamic in play. It was interesting, and I never thought I’d be doing this but here I was, having hung up on a stranger I should call my dom. Here I was, exhausted after masturbating for him. Following each of his instruction.

 Having had a taste of that side I had never ventured on, I realized I liked it a lot and I could see myself doing it more from time to time. Maybe not all the time, but in bed it was so intriguing.

 I surprised myself as I laid under my covers, slowly drifting to sleep, when a thought crossed my mind, I wonder if Law would do that… I shook the thought away, but it came back just as strong, I was curious. He would look at me with the same look he gave me all night, intrigued and yet clearly expecting all those reactions of me. Knowing what he was doing, knowing the effect he had on me. Whatever I’d say, he wouldn’t be surprised, as if he could read me. He’d ask me those same questions he did that night, trying to get me riled up and I would let him. Would I imagine him as that man from online?

 Would I secretly be hoping he would be that good? Would I let him do as he pleased with me? Was I even going to go on a date with him? This last question had an answer already, we both hardly had any free time. I don’t believe we had the same schedule either, it’d be too hard. But I’d entertain the idea, it was fun. I was slightly excited if it did happen, after all he was attractive. And I could use the kind of fun he was suggesting, considering all the stress we must both be under.

 Turning in bed, I pulled my phone from under my pillow and texted Law.

 You: You better be asleep old doc, because I am hitting the sac. And ignoring your last text at the same time.

Trafalgar Law 😷: Shall I take that as a “no”?

You: Definitely not, but I want to know if your personality is as hot as your face, first.

You: For scientific purposes

Trafalgar Law 😷: Luckily, I did pretty well in sciences. I’ll help with your research then.

You: That means I can call you partner? Pardner 🤠 in research of a fun time

Trafalgar Law 😷: Partner of fun, if you want. Pardner, no.

You: Dagnabbit, sad cowboy noise.

Trafalgar Law 😷: I think you need sleep, partner.

You: I definitely do, good night pardner. You should sleep too, you looked fucking tired tonight.

[Trafalgar Law 😷 sent an attachment]

You: it’s pitch black?

Trafalgar Law 😷: Because I’m trying to sleep, and you keep messaging me.

You: no one’s forcing you to answer 😏 but good night pardner

Trafalgar Law 😷: Good night

 I did fall asleep soon after. It was a miracle I managed to keep the conversation that long considering how tired I was and yet I was able to exchange, albeit embarrassingly, with the hot guy. I did not know why I had sent him a message- who am I kidding I know why I did that. Not only was I in that post-orgasm daze but also, this little voice in my head kept considering him as a potential something.

 That something was yet to be determined, booty call? Romantic partner? Sex friend? I did not know yet, the only way to find out was that date. And perhaps, if it went well enough, the after-date part. Which I was excited about, maybe more than the date part.

 This time I did not dream of the HandSurgeon, I did however have a dream about Trafalgar Law. It was not as hot as the one I had the night before… But it was something…

 In that dream, I had called him out of boredom while working on some stuff, and he had picked up mildly annoyed. But even though he was annoyed, he kept me on the line while making his way to his office and closed the door behind him.

 Then the mood changed, the ambiance too, the lights got slightly darker and suddenly I found myself in his office. He was leaning on his desk, arms crossed across his chest and seemingly expectant. I saw myself approach him with determination, I was but a spectator to that whole scene. I stopped right in front of him and let him grab my hands before he pulled them behind his back and turned me around so that I was now the one against the desk.

 The view changed and I could see him from up close now, he was looking down at me with a smug smile. I saw his lips moving but could not comprehend what he was saying. His tattooed hand travelled to my neck, gently brushing his thumb over it before grabbing my jaw gently. He spoke again and while I did not know what he said, I felt nervous, and slightly afraid.

 I tried to ask him to repeat, and maybe I did but I could not hear myself. He leaned forward and let his other hand graze the skin under my shirt before whispering. “Edelweiss… my sweet and pretty toy. So good for me.” I let my head fall back in pleasure from his touches but the constant feeling of confusion and fear only grew. I tried to understand why I was feeling like that, among the joy I felt upon hearing his word. Then it clicked.

 He doesn’t know about Edelweiss- he’s not that man, he shouldn’t know.

 Now I’m in my bed. Looking at a screen, I can see someone on that screen, but I can’t see it really. Then I understand who it is, HandSurgeon, but this time it’s Trafalgar Law. “You want us to be the same.”

 “You wish I was real, you’re so desperate for this to happen with me, with him, we’re the same to you, Edelweiss. You should think, wake up, realize that you’re making a mistake, wake up, we can’t be the same, wake up, you just want it so bad-“

 “Wake up!” I was startled awake by Nami, who was looking at me angrily, already fully dressed. “Jesus, did last night tire you that bad?” How could she know what I had done last night? She wasn’t even home- Trying to come up with anything, I was too sleepy to be embarrassed, then she spoke and cleared my mind. “You know, if I had known socializing with Traffy would tired you that much, I would have brought him over a lot sooner. Maybe you’d finally catch some real sleep.” She explained as she kept her gaze on my, probably, sleep-marks adorned face.

 Sighing, she pulled the covers off my form without a second thoughts when I was unresponsive to her words. “This time you have more than 5 minutes to get ready but move your ass or I’ll leave you there. Come on, hurry.”  She stopped by the door and made a compassionate face, “By the way, don’t worry, he exhausts me too. It’s the smug face and the condescending attitude that just-“ she made a sounds with her tongue against her teeth, “it ticks me off, you know?” She was gone right after.

 Looking at the doorway longer than I wanted to, I started drifting off to sleep when I was startled awake once more. My phone was ringing, and I was very much aware it was not my alarm. Stretching my arm to the bed table, I grabbed my phone and was surprised when I read the screen and saw it was Trafalgar Law. I picked up in confusion, “What do you want?” With the sleepiness and the confusion, my tone ended up being a bit more aggressive than I expected.

 “How about you start with good morning?” I heard him chuckle, he was probably proud of that too. Rolling my eyes, I let my head fall back on the pillow and spoke again, “Good morning, do you need something?” I sighed and pulled my covers back on my form, hearing the blinker of his car in the background I guessed he was driving and was paying more attention to the road.

 “Good morning, did I perhaps wake you up?” He asked rhetorically but I could hear the smile on his lips. All I did was hum in return, still waiting for the reason he called me. “I’m free this Thursday, how does it sound for those… research?” He seemed reticent saying it, probably rolling his eyes at how stupid it sounded. Laughing in my throat in return, it was not charming but the way he said it made it too funny for my dazed state. “Too shy to call it a date? I need to check my schedule; I don’t know if I’m free.” Thinking he’d hang up, I instead heard him talk to someone before talking to me again.

 “Then go ahead and check, I’ll wait.” He unbuckled his seatbelt and rummaged through something while I checked on my phone, mumbling. “Can’t you let a girl sleep? Don’t you have a work to get to?” I opened the calendar but kept grumbling while doing so, “You’re lucky I’m not hanging up to go back to sleep.” While checking my schedule, I double checked if there was a time I could be free on Thursday and heard Law scoff.

 He huffed a laugh, “I think you’d have hung up by now if you did not want to talk to me, I don’t think it’s luck, but interest.” Then a sigh as he got a bit more serious, “Just answer the question, I have to get going.”

 Scoffing, I brought the phone back to my ear, “You’re just a pretty face for now, Doc. Don’t bet on interest just yet. Now, I’m free around 2 pm that day, if that’s cool with you. But add like half an hour or so, it gives me time to get back home.”

 “Give me the address of your campus, I’ll come and get you there.” I heard the sound of the car door being slammed closed in the background, and the rustle of a bag. “I’m not about to refuse a car ride, it’s a bit odd but thank you!” I quickly sat up, suddenly feeling excited for my plans on Thursday. “Don’t expect me to be dressed all chic though, if I have classes in the morning, it’ll be comfortable and only slightly fashion.” I said lightly as I made my way to my wardrobe to start getting dressed for the day.

 “Give me a moment.” I heard the phone being moved a bit, a few muffled voices greeting the man, footsteps echoing on the ground accompanied by the hubbub of phones ringing, beeping sounds and people talking. While waiting, I was able to get dressed and go back to my desk to prepare my stuff. After a few minutes, I finally heard him. “You were talking about your clothes, to be honest as long as it’s easy to remove, we’re good.” He said smoothly, I could hear the smirk, the smugness in his voice.

 I simply looked at the phone with surprise and pleasantness. That was interesting to say the least, and I was enjoying it. “You’re not saying anything, I’m assuming you agree. Good, then I’ll see you on Thursday? Don’t be afraid to send me pictures if you’re curious about what clothes to wear, I’d gladly help you pick.” I had to stand my ground, he was too smooth. Too much, too flirty, too… familiar…?

 “Just for that, I’ll wear the most intricate clothes I have. Make it worth your while, you know?” While his laugh was beautiful, it was also condescending. I kept having mixt feelings about the man. “Well, if I am in a hurry, know that I am very skilled with sharp tools, and I’d have no shame in tearing your pretty clothes apart.” The sound of the creaking chair in the background made me think he was probably leaning back on his chair. A quick thought crossed my mind, of going up to him and sitting on his lap and seeing what he’d do, but I shoved that thought away.

 Instead, I huffed in response and threw my bag over my shoulder. I tried to come up with a witty reply, making lame sounds with my mouth, but I had no matching energy. Even less this early in the morning. “Alright, sure, you win. I was not going to wear anything intricate anyway, even I’m too lazy for that. Casual it is, so don’t go looking all professional on me, please. I’ll feel off.”

 “Put it on my desk, I’ll be there in a few- it’s an important call, I’m sure he can wait five more minutes… He doesn’t have a choice, tell him to wait… Intern or not you can tell him to wait, how else do you expect to be taken seriously? …  Well, tell him I am the one who said that, then, Tony... Right, now go- And close the door behind.” I felt bad eavesdropping like that, it wasn’t a conversation I was meant to hear but it did not seem like any important information had been shared either. Except the fact that he said this was an important call when it clearly was not. It sent pride to my chest.

 Walking to the kitchen, I made a motion with my index to my lips to Robin and Nami when they started talking a bit too loud. I pointed at the phone, then wiggled my fingers before drawing an invisible circle on the back of my hand. I tried very hard to make them understand it was Law, but they seemed confused. Instead, I held my phone between my shoulder and my ear and spelled Law with both of my hands. This time they understood, I knew it from the huge grin on their face.

 “We got interrupted, sorry about that. If you feel intimated by a professional look, I guess we’ll have to drop by my place before going on that date. Do tell me if you’d rather I keep the medical coat-“ Cutting him off, I needed to set things straight. “Hey, I never said that was my cup of tea, okay? And I’m not intimidated, I’m sure you’re rocking the look- “ I never sighed more loudly than at this very moment when Nami snatched the phone from my hand, and said, “Alright asshole, time’s up, you’ve had time to work your charm… no I’m not doing that”

 Robin butted in next to the microphone and said, “She’s all flustered, Traffy, good work!” I went to grab it back from the ginger’s hands but the stepped back and exchanged a few words with Law before handing me my phone back with a bright smile. Bringing it back to my ear, I rushed back to the corridor to avoid them eavesdropping more than they did in the kitchen.

 “Sorry about them- for your outfit, wear whatever you want. I truly have no say in what you’re going to wear, plus you’ll look hot with whatever you pick so, it’s a win-win.” I quickly said, earning a laugh from the man on the other side. “I’d love to see your face right now, Robin did say you were flustered. Guess we’ll have to wait until Thursday.” He hummed, his tone having some finality to it. I knew it was my cue to hang up.

 “I wasn’t flustered, I- at best embarrassed- no wait that sounds worst doesn’t it? Anyway, see you on Thursday! Have fun at work, bye.” I waited until he bid me goodbye before hanging up. As I put my phone away, I leaned against the wall and sighed, letting my head hit the wall. “Are you okay?” Robin’s soft voice reached my ears, she was making her way towards me with a slight smile. Probably feeling a bit bad for going along Nami’s childish attitude only moments ago.

 Humming, I gave her a nod. But the words that followed were not matching the actions. “He’s like, very hot. And I really want to fuck him, right? But he’s also pretty funny, and good at flirting?”

Squinting her eyes, Robin asked, “Is that a question… or?”

“No, no, it’s facts and it confuses me! I was ready to just, hook up, but he could be more- I don’t know maybe I’m desperate.” I simply shrugged, leaving a silence between the black-haired woman and me.

 Looking up at her, she seemed to be thinking. Then she smiled, she was always the one with good advice but also a helpless romantic. “It’s a good thing isn’t it? You don’t need to worry too much, that date of yours will help you see if you’re really interested in him or not! If not, you’ll have great sex- if yes, you’ll still have great sex, and another date.” I groaned in reply, running a hand through my hair before giving her a short nod.

 “Yeah, you’re right. I’ll just- live my life until then, I have other things to do than think of a man. By the way are you home tonight?” I asked her as we walked back to the kitchen where Nami was nowhere to be found, there was simply a piece of paper with the words ‘bring your ass to the car’.

 Chuckling lightly, Robin shook her head. “I have to stay late at the library. Then Franky agreed to let me stay at his place, since it’s closer.” We talked a bit as we made our way to the door, where she wave me goodbye before closing the door gently behind me.

 When I was back in the car, Nami had one of her earbuds on and was talking more gently than she’d usually talk to someone. Which means she was talking to Vivi. I did not interrupt and instead grabbed my phone and saw a message from HandSurgeon.

 HandSurgeon: Are you feeling better? Don’t forget to stay hydrated, I’ll be a bit busy this week, but I can find time if you’d like.

Edelweiss: shit, just saw your message! Sorry, crazy morning. I am definitely sore, but it’s good, I can move so there’s that!

Edelweiss: Also, I might be a bit away from Wednesday to Friday, I am seeing someone and knowing how our session leave me pretty sore, I’d rather you know…

Edelweiss: be in good shape

Edelweiss: for a good fun

Edelweiss: a good fuck

 This time, I did not have a prompt reply. I put my phone away and it’s only halfway through my day, while I was working on something at the library, that I received a reply from him. I’ll admit, I had been expectant the entire morning for an answer. I had been deep in textbooks for so long, I was craving for any sort of interaction, from anyone. Which explained the speed at which I unlocked my phone to see the text from HandSurgeon, and even one from Trafalgar Law.

 I hesitate for a moment, then opened discord.

 HandSurgeon: It’s fine, you are allowed to have a life you know. Simply tell me if you want to stop this, or not, you know… if your someone is not the one and you still need a good fuck.

HandSurgeon: I will also be busy on Thursday, I’ll try to send you a text if I get some free time.

HandSurgeon: I just finished a long meeting, would you be up for a fun game?

 I stared at his messages, feeling a bit excited suddenly. But knowing myself, I would say yes, so I had to answer to Law first before spending my time sexting the stranger.

 Trafalgar Law 😷: I’m sorry we had to cut our conversation short, how was class? I have a bit of free time, if you’d like to talk about our research meeting.

You: That’s actually pretty cute, thought you were just a horny piece of meat but damn, you surprise me.

You: I am still on campus, drowning in work. I’d love to talk, but I need to focus, text me later? 🤠

 Going back on discord, I felt strange. I wanted to say yes, to play his game, but it felt wrong for some reason. I was double texting and it felt like I was cheating on a man I was not even dating. I ignored the thought and typed back.

 Edelweiss: I kinda wanna know, but also really need to get back to work. So, I’ll have to decline.

Edelweiss: But I’m curious, what was the game?

HandSurgeon: It’s quite alright, I was going to suggest you’d take a pretty picture for me no matter who was around. But you are busy, so I’ll leave you be. Focus on your work. I’ll talk to you later.

HandSurgeon: But for ‘emotional support’, I’ll give you this:

HandSurgeon : [sent an attachment]

 I snorted at his words, and smiled when he sent me a picture of his gloved hand gripping the wheel of his car tightly. I did comment on wearing gloves while driving, even though they were not medical gloves and it had some charm, it was very movie-like. And suspicious.

 After that, I put my phone down and got lost in work. I did not even see time fly by, what informed me that it was indeed a few hours later than I thought, was the grumbling of my stomach. “I think it’s time to call it a day.” I mumbled while packing everything up. With the books put back where they belonged and my laptop tucked away, I made my way outside and was walking through the parking lot when I saw a familiar mop of hair making its way towards me.

 I suddenly felt self-conscious and straightened my back before meeting his gaze and frowning in confusion. “Are you stalking me?” I patted my pockets in emphasis, before saying “Did you put a chip somewhere, or-“ Law shook his head as if I was being crazy. “Bro, it’s super super sus that you’re at my campus when I never gave you the address-“

“I asked Robin. I was going to ask Nami but she wouldn’t have given me anything.” He explained as if it was obvious.

 Looking around, I opened my mouth and closes it a few times. It was a bit awkward. “Why are you here, then?” I asked, still confused, my eyes squint in suspicion.

“Right- give me a moment.” He turned around and took a few long strides to get to his car and get something from the passenger seat before coming back. Even though his steps were hurried, there was still this elegance to it that I could not ignore.

 “I am very familiar with long hours of studying, so here’s a drink and some food. I used to skip meals, because I’d get too much into it. Don’t do that, eat.” While what he said seemed caring, he was not smiling or anything. But the gesture was so sweet I couldn’t help but smile.

“It’s very nice of you,” I said, tucking my hair behind my ear jokingly in faux-shyness before going back to a normal demeanor. “But I was going home. I was done for the day, here,” I handed it back to him before trying to find my wallet in my bag. “Let me, just- how much do I owe you?”

 He stopped me from rummaging through my back and ruffled my hair before handing me the drink and food back. “Nothing, I was passing by. Now I am sure to not get lost when I’ll come and get you on Thursday.” He winked, then looked back at his watch a moment. He seemed to ponder something for a moment, before looking up at me. “Would you like me to drop you off at your house? I have a bit of time before going back to work.” He asked kindly, showing me his keys as if trying to coo me.

 “Maybe you should go eat too? I’ll take the bus, it’s alright.” Smiling, the man pointed at his car with a certain pride. “Oh don’t worry, I got myself something too. It could be our first lunch date, you are so bent on traditions, so why not lunch?”

 I felt my cheeks heat up and pushed him playfully, careful not to spill the drink I had in my hand. “I’m not bent on traditions, I just barely know you, doc.” I looked to the side and shrugged before walking past him, “Let’s get lunch.” I said over my shoulder. I heard the man laugh in the back, then the jingle of keys.

 I tried to open the door but found it locked. I stated the obvious, “I can’t get in if it’s locked.” I was about to complain more, when he leaned over his side of the car and grinned. “Ask politely, and I’ll let you in.” I hated him, but the smile on my face was a betrayal of how I really felt. He was a little shit, but it was still fun. Rolling my eyes, I mimicked his action and rested my arms on the roof of the car, “Could you please unlock the car, doc?” “Good girl, was it that hard?”

 I turned my head towards him so fast I may have pulled a muscle in my neck, but the way he said it made it a lot more than just a nickname. He was testing the waters for something, and I had given him the exact reaction he wanted. “What, do I call you daddy now?” I said sarcastically while getting inside the car and buckling my seatbelt while he held everything before placing them back on my lap.

 “Not my thing, but I’m sure we’ll get to that conversation later.” He smirked as he put something in the glove box before closing it back and meeting my intense gaze as he leaned back on his seat. I was observing each and everyone of his action, feeling out of place in his car. I had met the man last night, but for some reason he felt familiar. Perhaps it was his aura, perhaps he was just that reassuring. No, clearly not, he looks threatening… “Something on your mind? I don’t know if you’re looking at me like you want kill me or fuck me,” Extending his hand towards me, he placed his index under my chin and lifted it, I quickly grabbed his hand like last time to stop him.

 “Maybe both, maybe none-“ With a short smile, he interrupted me, “Don’t be like that, I’ll ask differently. Are you uncomfortable? I haven’t done this in a while, so I’m trying to take it slow…ish.” He admitted. I could see on his face he was feeling just as sheepish as I was. Clasping my hands on my lap I chuckled nervously, “I’m good, I was just…. Observing. You’re doing good, simply put…” I trailed off and met his gaze with a playful grin, “Ye’re a looker pardner,” I then tipped my non-existent hat, which made him laugh genuinely.

 “You were just in awe?” He asked a bit surprised, hiding his bashfulness behind a laugh. “Exactly, take the compliment and don’t mention it again. Now drive, or you’ll get back late at work.” I huffed, looking at the window with warm cheeks. I felt a pull at my hand and looked at it confused, “I’d love to, but you’re still holding my hand.” I quickly let go and threw his hand back at him, “It was to make sure you weren’t going to do the whole,” Making a gesture with my hands in the air, wiggling my fingers, I continued, “Chin thing again.”

 Even though he agreed, only giving me a curt nod along with a “Right.”, I could see the smile on his face as he started the car. Looking at him from the corner of my eyes, I matched his smile discretely as I looked back at the road.

 The volume of the music wasn’t loud, I could hear the fabric of his coat as he maneuvered, the blinkers, my own nervous heartbeat. There was no reason for me to feel so nervous, we were just going to eat lunch then go our separate way. To try to calm down, I rummaged through my brain for topics to talk about, small talks was fun in social events but in one on one, it was a fucking disaster.

 Do you have any pets? Do you like cats? Maybe talk about his job? How long did he study? Or funny topics, less social, more creative? Politics is off the table, it’s not that great of a first date conversation. What’s your favourite colour? What part of your body to your prefer-

 I blurted out a question to try to fill the silence. And fuck did I regret it, I shouldn’t be allowed to speak when in that state, but it was too late. “So… what’s your favourite body part?” Wait, no, fuck, not…

[Part 6]

[starfirelove]

This is a very very very late birthday present for the amazing @moonscarsandstars. I love you so so much babe (except for that thing yesterday you little shit) and I hope you enjoy this thing I wrote!

“I’m not doing it.”

“But whyyy?”

“Because it’s creepy as hell, James. That’s why.”

Sirius shoulders open the door to James’ room and flops down onto his bed.

“It’s not creepy!” James protests, flinging his backpack into a corner.

“It’s just unconventional.”

“Read ‘creepy and stalker-ish’,” Sirius mutters.

James plops down on the bed next to Sirius. “You,” he says, poking his friend in the ribs. “Are no fun.”

Sirius snorts. “I’m plenty of fun. I just don’t write random people letters and put them in their mailbox.”

“At least not yet,” James teases.

“Not ever.”

James rolls his eyes, toeing his shoes off. “You’ll cave, eventually.”

“Unlikely,” Sirius says firmly, folding his legs up onto the bed. Only to be shoved roughly off not a moment later.

“Prongs!”

“No shoes on the bed!” James gestures to his own recently departed shoes. “This is the one rule that I have.”

Sirius picks himself up off the floor. “You sound like your mother.”

“Do not.”

Sirius kicks his shoes off but doesn’t return to the bed. Instead, he takes a seat at James’ desk. In favor of silently spinning in the swivel chair.

They’d been having the same back and forth debate for days now. Should Sirius send a letter to that boy who lived down the street? Or no.

James, of course, voted yes. As did many of Sirius’ friends. Sirius, for the life of him, couldn’t figure out why.

His friends seemed to be under the impression that this was some sort of young adult novel. It wasn’t.

You couldn’t just send random people letters. What if they called the police? Then what? Not to mention the fact that Sirius didn’t even know his name. That certainly would complicate things.

That’s not to say they were complete strangers though, Sirius and the mystery boy. Quite the contrary, actually.

The two had met before, when Peter’s mother pointed out the fact that that house was the one she grew up in.

The current occupants of Mrs. Pettigrew’s childhood home had insisted on giving her a tour. A sort of them versus now type thing, Sirius supposed.

As it happened, James and Sirius were there the day of the tour. And that was when Sirius had first run into mystery kid.

They’d been briefly introduced, but Sirius was too busy considering how awkward it was to be walking through someone’s house to pay attention to his name.

Now, nearly seven months later, Sirius, James, and Peter had seen the boy again. And for some ridiculous reason, James was under the impression that sticking a letter with his number on it in that boys mailbox was the best idea ever.

Ok technically it was Sirius’ own fault that the idea even came to mind. But he was absolutely joking when he’d said, “what do you want me to do, stick a letter in his mailbox?”

In response to James’ telling him to go socialize. That didn’t mean he was serious (all jokes aside, of course.)

“Yo,” James says, and Sirius stops spinning.

“Mm?”

“Peters asking if we want to come over. His mom's baking cookies.”

Sirius halts his spinning and stands. “Really all you had to say was ‘cookies’ and I would’ve been on board.”

James laughs. “Fair enough.”

James scoops up his backpack and slings it onto his shoulder while Sirius pulls his shoes back on.

“What are you bringing that for,” Sirius asks, curiously.

James shrugs. “You never know.”

Sirius rolls his eyes but doesn’t say anything else about it, he just leads the way out of James’ room.

The two of them run into Euphemia at the foot of the stairs.

“Leaving so soon?”

“Peter invited us over,” James explains.

“His mom is making cookies,” Sirius adds.

Euphemia nods solemnly. “I don’t blame you, Peggy’s baking is amazing.”

“That it is!” James agrees, starting for the front door. Sirius follows him.

“Sirius,” Euphemia says, voice slightly sing-songy.

Sirius stops in his tracks.

“Those aren’t shoes are they?”

“Nope,” Sirius says. “They absolutely are not.”

“Hmm, that’s what I thought,” she says with a laugh. “You boys have fun now.”

“We will,” James calls, opening the door and then shutting it firmly behind them.

“I told you you sound like your mother,” Sirius snickers.

“Oh, fuck off,” James says. “That was a joke and you know it.”

Sirius very much does know it, but he chooses to ignore it.

A little while into their walk, Sirius feels a buzz at his side, buoyed by the familiar Apple ringtone.

“Who is it?” James asks.

“Lemme get the phone out first,” Sirius responds. Then, “Marlene.”

“Aren’t you going to answer that?”

“I’m getting there.”

A moment later Marlene’s face pops onto the screen. Her blonde hair splayed across the pillows around her.

“What’s up?” Sirius asks.

“Did you do it?” She asks, and Sirius groans.

James plucks the phone out of his hand before he can respond.

“No, he absolutely did not. I’ve been trying for hours!”

“Give Sirius his phone back,” Marlene commands.

Sirius take his phone back, eyebrow raised.

“What?”

“Pussy,” Marlene says, and then eats what appears to be a handful of gummy worms.

Sirius throws his hands up, exasperated. “What is it with you all and your stupid letter!”

Marlene shrugs. “Dunno, just need some gay drama in our lives I suppose.”

Sirius glares at her. “Marlene,” he says slowly. “You. Are. A. Lesbian.”

“And you’re gay as a maypole,” Marlene retorts. “Go get the guy, Black.”

“It is not that easy,” Sirius sighs.

“Can you write?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have a phone?”

“No, I’m calling from a toaster.”

“That would explain the poor video quality.”

“Bullshit.”

Marlene ignores this. “Seems to me like you’re perfectly capable of writing that letter.”

“Yes, but I’m not social,” Sirius says.

Both Marlene and James laugh at that.

“Sirius Black you are the most social person I know aside from myself and your haired idiot over there.”

“Hey!” James says, indignant.

“You can write that letter,” Marlene continues. “I know you can.”

“The problem isn’t I can’t do it,” Sirius says, handing the phone to Marlene so that he can tie up his hair, which has decided for whatever reason to fall in his eyes and be irritating. “I just don’t want to because it’s stupid,” Sirius finishes.

“I see,” Marlene says.

She’s silent for a bit. Which is slightly alarming to Sirius. Marlene is only this quiet on the phone when she’s thinking or playing Subway Surfers, her designated FaceTime Game.

“Well then,” She says, and Sirius releases a sigh of relief. “I guess I can’t make you.”

“Nope,” Sirius says cheerfully, a girl starting to spread across his face.

“Unless of course I dare you to,” Marlene says, and Sirius’ grin drops.

It’s Marlene’s turn to smile now. “Gotcha.”

“You’re the devil.”

It’s quite the well known fact that Sirius will take basically any dare, so long as it doesn’t hurt someone else. And as far as he can tell, this dare isn’t hurting anyone. Not even himself, save for some minor embarrassment.

“How did you know what my Halloween costume was,” Marlene asks, she’s still grinning at him.

“Well, you certainly aren’t an angel,” Sirius grumbles.

Marlene waves a gummy worm at him. “Ain’t that the truth. Well then, I dare you to write that random guy a letter.”

James whistles. “Gosh why didn’t I think of that?”

“You’re afraid of being murdered, maybe?” Sirius suggests.

“And Marlene isn’t?”

“I’m the devil, remember? Already dead.”

“Right, of course, my bad,” James says.

Marlene turns her attention back towards Sirius. “You’re near Peter’s, right? You should send the letter now.”

“With what?” Sirius asks. “I’m short on paper if you can’t tell.”

Marlene gestures to James who is holding up his backpack triumphantly.

“Told you we’d need it!”

“I hate you both,” Sirius mutters, snatching a pen and paper from James.

“What the hell am I even supposed to write?”

“You number,” Marlene says unhelpfully.

“No shit Sherlock.”

Sirius decides not to ask anymore questions. He just scribbles out a quick note and folds the paper.

“What’d you say?” James asks.

“Wouldn’t you like to know,” Sirius retorts.

They’re right in front of the house now, and Sirius is wondering if he should just back out of it.

“Don’t be shy,” Marlene says from her end of the phone. Sirius has the vague idea that she’d be shoving him forward if she were here right now.

As it happens he doesn’t need the shove. He walked up the drive himself, ignoring Marlene’s, “Wait flip the camera James. I wanna see him do it.”

He’s at the front porch now, and he thinks he can hear something in the kitchen. There’s the sound of rushing water, dishes maybe?

Without giving it much more thought, Sirius shoves the letter inside the mailbox, wincing at the slight creak it makes.

Then he jogs back down the drive and continues towards Peter’s house.

James runs after him.

“Don’t you feel liberated now?” Marlene asks.

“If by ‘liberated’ you mean like a fucking fairytale charcater then, yes. Sure.”

“I don’t know of any fairyta—“

“Goodbye Marlene,” Sirius says, he takes the phone from James and promptly hangs up on her.

“Rude,” James says jokingly.

“Oh, please, she’s done worse,” Sirius snorts.

“But don’t you feel excited?” James asks.

“I feel anxiety.”

“You’ll thank us later.”

Even thought Sirius rolls his eyes and shoves James into a nearby plant, he can’t help but wonder if James and Marlene are right. And if this’ll actually go somewhere.

Ah, well, that’s another problem for another day. At present moment he should probably be running right about now before James comes to exact his revenge. And that, is exactly what he does.