#little did he know his life is going towards a bigger slope then it was

[zephahhhh]

Severus: everyday I feel like I'm too old too worn too tired to have a life but I'm only thirty-fucking-one

[powdermelonkeg]

So, BO2W Breakdown

Buckle up, this is gonna be a long one.

Here we’ve got Ganon’s...energy taking over Link’s arm. Ordinarily, I’d call it Malice, but based on what it turns into, I’m just going to be calling it corruption. We don’t get much information from this scene besides this expression:

Link’s grabbing the corruption with his other hand, and wincing. It looks painful. I personally think it’s for cinematic effect that it was included, but it COULD be a gateway into a Phantom Hourglass sort of mechanic--Link has to function on a time limit, or using the corruption’s power could drain his life.

Next we’ve got a closeup of Ganondorf. F in chat to the rehydration theorists.

And the closeups of his jewelry. The only significant thing I can see is his necklace, which looks like a cross between the Gerudo symbol and a Fleur de Lis:

But what I’M most interested in is this tie on his belt:

For one, it’s WAY bigger than it needs to be, and that’s deliberate. Ganondorf’s got a jewelry aesthetic he’s already hit above; everything else is gold, why not this bit?

Most importantly, you can barely make it out, but the designs either look Sheikah or Zonai--they’ve got that same kind of swirly busy pattern to them. The red tint and tan-ish lines in it makes me think it’s possessed Sheikah tech.

Next, we’re shown Zelda falling. This looks like it happens right after these two caps from the first trailer:

So we reach for her as the ground collapses, and evidently, we fail to pull her back up. So my next question for that scene is going to be what the in-game reason is for us not diving in right after her. Maybe we won’t get one, since the appeal of the original BOTW was that you could fight Ganon whenever you wanted.

Up next, we’ve got a skydiving shot:

The first thing to notice is that Link’s pose while skydiving is just about identical to his pose in Skyward Sword:

Second is that, yes, he’s falling towards a floating island, and that in itself is noteworthy, but he’s FALLING. There’s something either above him that he jumped off of, or a force that carried him high enough TO fall, and I doubt Nintendo’s encouraging magnesis flying.

So, there’s a few options: Loftwings making a return (which is unlikely, but a hope I have), something like Revali’s Gale boosting Link up for a cinematic shot, indicating that the corruption arm has that kind of power, or islands higher than the one shown here.

Now the island itself:

In Skyward Sword, Skyloft looks like this:

And (spoiler alert) we loose this island here over the course of the game:

Now, it’s not a PERFECT 1:1 match, as most things between games aren’t, but a quick rotate and overlay shows it’s got the same kinds of shapes between the two. The same “W” shape along the eastern side, the same tiny island off the northeast point, the same relative edges.

Now, I don’t know what happened to the plaza at South Skyloft, or the Knight’s Academy isle, but it could very easily be drift away from the central island.

The presence of other islands through the clouds seems to support that theory. Now let’s look at Link here:

The outfit is new. We haven’t, to my knowledge, seen one of this design in other games. My gut reaction to this image was “oh, we go back in time and we’re the first hero now!” because it’s vaguely reminiscent of Tapestry Hero.

But upon closer inspection, that theory’s null and void. Under Link’s tunic in the image above, you can see that he’s still wearing the shorts he woke up in in the first game. So either Sheikah boxers haven’t changed in 10,000 years, or it’s taking place in present day. Jokes aside, I’m curious to know if the outfit he’s wearing is modeled after Tapestry Hero.

Next thing to point out is the obvious:

Link’s arm here looks less prosthetic and more...withered, I almost want to say. The corruption here’s made his hand look frailer, and armored them up with Zonai patterns before it fades out at his shoulder. Based on how the tattoos look, I think they’re an artifact of the corruption taking hold.

Also, the belt here:

Aesthetic purposes, or specific function? The presence of the second, smaller one on the side reminds me of Skyward Sword’s adventure pouch, which could be how the new game handles inventory size:

Next we’ve got another flying shot:

It seems like he’s flying towards Ruined Skyloft, and you can see the bottoms of islands above it, possibly meaning that the sky serves as more than just a hub world like it did in Skyward.

Now let’s look at the paraglider he’s using. It’s new.

This is how the paraglider looks in the original BOTW. It looks like we still have the Rito symbol in the center, but other than that, there’s a LOT of changes here.

First off is the color. We’re now blue and gold. The shade of blue makes me think of the Kochi Dye Shop’s navy blue:

So, possibly a dyeable paraglider?

The new pattern surrounding the Rito symbol makes me think that it’s combining the paraglider with Skyward Sword’s sailcloth:

Other than that, there isn’t much else to say about the paraglider besides the handles looking like they’re made of bone. Craftable paragliders? God, I hope not.

Back to Link:

Here we have him in different gear than the last shot. He’s wearing the snow boots, he has a shield with a stylized Eye of Truth looking upwards, and he looks like he’s carrying a traveler’s sword and an unknown bow. The presence of the bow makes me think that the shield here is a lower tier item, rather than this game’s Hylian Shield equivalent.

Now, let’s get a better look at the horizon:

The trees here look a lot like the smaller trees you can find in Akkala, but there’s a distinct lack of red among them.

Then it looks like we’ve got some ruins at the furthest isle.

Whatever the rock formations are over there, they don’t LOOK natural.

Another thing I noticed is the bottoms of the islands.

These look a little too geometric to be natural, too. Now, this one, I’m a little muddy on, because it COULD be a stylistic choice. But it also reminds me of the Shrines if you clip out of bounds:

And a little bit of the dormant Gate of Time from Skyward:

My money’s on the cube-like nature of the islands’ undersides being deliberate, rather than just a far-off render.

And then there’s this thing!

What is it? It doesn’t look broken at all; look how nicely the roof(?) is kept. The ribbing on the sides makes me think it might be a Zonai thing, but the shape makes it difficult to figure out. A giant temple? An airship? A sloped coliseum? This thing haunts and vexes me.

Our next shot is presumably from one of the islands, based on the color. Here we can see that there are definitely ruins all over the place. Link is in the same gear as before, so I won’t touch on him.

This, however, has my interest. The design here has more geometric patterns--Zonai ruins?

We’ve got another one off in the distance here. Sky checkpoints, like Sheikah towers?

Now this guy here. There’s a LOT to look at. First off is the eye design, it’s the same sort of upward looking one that Link has on his shield in the previous shots.

The energy that’s pulling this thing towards its base looks like the same green energy that surrounds the arm holding Gan in place in Trailer One:

This stuff. That, plus the fact that the robot has to be pulled into its base rather than just existing, implies that either A: Link activates it himself, like a trial thing, or B: that the green energy here functions in the same way Malice does in the original BOTW.

This pattern at its base is intriguing, too. I don’t recognize the gold symbol in the center, but the green around it reminds me of the portals from Twilight Princess.

Which, yes, everyone’s already said that the Twilight Princess patterns look like Zonai things. But another thing this weird dial thing reminds me of is from Lanayru Desert:

On top of that, the color palette of this guy looks like that of the Lanayru Robots from Skyward:

BO2W robot on the left, Lanayru robot on the right. Given that Skyward is a lot more vibrant than other non-Toon Zelda games, I think this is a fair enough comparison to draw similarities from.

And then we get a closer view of the sky ruins from the last shot. I don’t know if the geometric pattern in the corner is a deliberate carving, or wear from time, but since the pattern looks ALMOST mirrored around the corner, I’m going to go with the former.

A better shot a few frames later. The robot has HANDS, which I do not like in any way shape or form. However, we get a better look at the sky ruins.

We haven’t seen this style of stairs before, to my knowledge. The pedestal out front looks like a light source, and it has the same floral egg thing the robot above has on each shoulder; the eggs could easily be a power source for Zonai tech. And at the top of the stairs, we see a pedestal, backing up the theory that these ruins function as our new Sheikah towers.

This is our next shot. Which...

Unikoblins. Can we talk about that? UNIKOBLINS.

Anyways, Link is here again in his old clothes. This is a very early game shot, because his right arm isn’t corrupted yet; this means we get to explore Hyrule before we embark on the main quest. Which gives rise to a question: Where’s Zelda?

The hopeful side of me wants to say that she’s a tutorial companion, like Navi or Tatl, at least for the beginning here. The pessimistic side of me thinks that she’s waiting for us at a predetermined location, and this is just part of getting to her.

Now the unikoblin structure itself is built on a Talus, meaning that the dev team at least intends to have more inter-monster interactions. But if you kill the Talus, does that mean that the base falls apart, or does it just drop down as a separate entity?

Also, what are these background ruins? The one on the left looks like it’s a distinctly different style than the one on the right. It looks almost like a giant guardian arm.

Our next shot is Link’s arm getting corrupted. Which, first of all, the effects look beautiful.

Now, we can see a corner of Link’s hip here, and we know that this is his right arm. So Link’s lying down here. Unconscious? Knowing how Zelda games like to start with Link waking up, probably. Although it looks like at least part of his shorts got an update.

We can see what looks like circuits here. It looks a bit like the electricity puzzles you can find in the Divine Beasts and Shrines in the original.

Then we’ve got these strange symbols.

Whatever this circular stone he’s lying on is, it looks a lot like the Zonai puzzle from the “A Fragmented Monument” sidequest.

This one that everyone thought was the Mirror of Twilight for years.

Our next shot is Link using the corruption powers against enemies:

The spike ball itself looks solid; the question is, is this a duplication power, or a visualization of how the spike ball is set into motion?

We see it barreling over a poor Unikoblin or two, but I’d like to turn your attention to the Moblin and the background.

The moblins here have helmets, and the bases, while they carry the same design, look like they have more cause and effect in mind. The left base’s rock, for instance; that’s a lot bigger than the rocks we got to play with in the last game, and it looks like we can barrel anything in the screen over with it.

The helmet, though, concerns me a little bit. It looks natural rather than forged; like it’s the moblin’s horn, just very much deformed. Does it mean a harder enemy, or is it just for flavor?

Our next shot is this strange flower thing. Note that Link’s right arm is perfectly fine in this shot, meaning that it’s still early game.

This is what Link’s flamethrower looks like. And this:

Is Zonai art.

So the question is, what IS the flamethrower? My first thought was that it’s either a new item in its own, or it’s a Sheikah Slate upgrade. The latter might sound a little far fetched, but Link in this game is right-handed, and in BOTW, he always held the slate in his LEFT hand when using it.

We have more of the weird faded designs that we saw on the Sky ruins:

And we’ve got some kind of pedestal or stage behind the ground flower thing:

It looks like it’s either an altar or a grave, from what I can tell. The stairs aren’t the same design as the ones in the sky, and there aren’t any patterns on it.

More importantly, though, is that this place is underground. This could be a part of the game you’re required to go through, in order to get to Raisin Gan.

A few seconds later, though, we get our answer to what the flamethrower is!

It’s a shield!

Off to the left side, we can see pillars with more weird scribblings towards the top. These match the Sky ruins’ pillar shape, with a narrow base and a wider top.

Our next scene is...weird.

We see a puddle splash in reverse. It’s hard to tell if it’s actually water or not, but the design on the ground implies that it’s either been there for a long time, or that that’s a dedicated splash spot. And the quality and zoom makes me think that this is part of a cutscene. Return of the timeshift stones?

We then see Link...surfacing out of the island? I don’t know how else to describe it. However, his arm is changed again, and glowing, meaning that this is a corruption power. And the “water” he rises out of here looks a lot like the puddle in the last clip.

We get a good look at the Zonai Lights:

A Sky ruin that looks like it contains a room:

And a glimpse of other isles’ ruins in the far distance.

And then as the camera zooms out...

We can place a location!

We’re right over Thundra Plateau!

We also get a mildly better look at the back wall of the sky ruin, which looks to be some kind of table:

The next scene is Hyrule Castle:

The ground shakes and it starts to rise up. However, notice that the columns surrounding the castle are now missing.

We’ve also got red sparks in the air, like we would have in a blood moon. However, due to the sky color, we can assume that this is a conscious decision by Gan himself, and that he isn’t drawing power from his surroundings.

We then see that power bleeding out of the ground. It’s MUCH more red than Malice is, which has always been a kind of burnt pink-ish color.

However, even though Ganon lifts the castle up, he doesn’t lift it very high.

The castle’s about triple the height it was. But since we’re talking Skyloft levels of floating islands, this is still pretty ground-level. What’s interesting to me, though, is that in this shot, despite the game now being about sky islands that we should be able to see from ground level...there aren’t any here. This, to me, means that there’s going to be a sudden appearance of the isles in the sky, rather than them simply being accessible now.

And that’s the whole trailer! I have many questions.

My blog! If you have any opnions/questions/theories, feel free to drop an ask!

Part 2 is up! We missed a lot!

[awkwardspontaneity]

Hello. This is my first request for the Legend of Zelda, so I do not know how to write it correctly. I don't speak English and I'm writing this in a translator, so there may be mistakes here, sorry. In general, I want to see how the reader will react to the fact that Revali, Link and Sidon cheated on her. (something made me feel sad) Thank you in advance ╹▽╹

I'm so sorry something happened to upset you. If it's along the lines of this request give me a name😤👊 anyways thank you so much for requesting!! This ended up being so much longer than I intended but I'm pretty happy with it. I hope this is what you're looking for!

✨ requests are open✨

Warning: angst, cheating

Revali🐦

I think with his prickly nature not a lot of people would stick around long enough to get to know how much he cares

But some bitch saw how much he was training to perfect his powers to help Hyrule and couldn't resist

It started off as bringing him lunches and heat pads after a long day of training and then it escalated

They would wrap his wings up and suddenly he was letting them fix his braids. He never saw it as much more than a fan helping him out but you saw differently

It ended up in a big fight when you finally brought up how Revali was allowing this fan to hang off of him like they were his partner not you. You brought up excellent points like how he took such a long time to even trust you with braiding his hair and that he could at least let them know he's in a relationship.

Revali got upset (probably cuz ur right and he can't admit it) and snapped that at least they appreciated him

Yeah bad move. You walked out and bird brain left to train away the pain

You came across his first and decided to head to the shooting range with some peace snacks but what do you find?

You walk up the slope towards the archery range, a container of Revali's favourite snacks in hand. As you approach you see something sitting inside the hut and assume it's him. Sterling your breath you walk into the hut and what you find takes your breath away- not in the good way either. Revali sat there with his wings wrapped around them, too caught up on their liplock to notice you standing there.

CRASH

The container hits the ground with a shatter, ruining their little scene.

"Y/n-"

"Don't even try it." You wish your voice didn't sound as broken. No matter how much your heart squeezed in pain from the betrayal, you wanted to come off so much different- angrier. Because you were angry. "Just because we have an argument does not give you the right to run off with your new friend."

Revali flinches at the word and you feel a sick glimmer of satisfaction. He opens his mouth to protest, ignoring your glare. "I-I'm sorry." Your glare darkens and he immediately flounders for the right words. "You accused me of something I didn't do-"

Yeah, not the right words. You wish you could do something, anything to hurt him like he hurt you. But you had to be the bigger person no matter how much you wanted to snap that precious bow of his in half.

"I accused you, not have you permission."

"We can work through this, together" his wing reached out to you, but you recoiled to fast.

"We're not together." You walked towards the entrance "I hope it was worth it."

Link 🗡️

Link is a closed off person. Sure he has people worship him for his title as the hero of Hyrule, but he would never let that get to his head. You could tell this boy he's amazing and it still wouldn't get through his insecurities

Maybe it's cruel but, that almost reassured you he would never break your heart like that. You felt secure in your relationship

That's why it was so shocking when you found out he had fallen for Zelda.

It wasn't meant to ever be more than knight and princess. And you never should have found out.

You were walking towards the stables of your party was staying at. It was supposed to be a simple trip to complete some research out in the plains. Of course your trip was ambushed by an energetic princess who begged to come along for research purposes. You couldn't complain because the addition of the princess also came with your boyfriend Link.

Now you were looking for him outside the small ranch. You fully expected him to be caring for Epona like he always did after a long trip. His love for his horse was something you had always loved about him. The way he would stay later than everyone else to make sure she was okay. It had made stables kind of your spot. Hanging out at the end of a long day to talk and spend time together while caring for your steeds.

Maybe that was why your heart felt so utterly shattered when you did find him, standing next to the stable, with the princess in his arms. Maybe you could have fooled yourself into believing he was being friendly if he hadn't pressed a long loving kiss to her forehead followed by both her cheeks, chuckling softly as she giggled.

You knew they had always been close. I mean they spent all their time together. You'd just never thought that Link would do something like this to you.

You walked away from the stables fighting backs the tears in your eyes. It was only when you found you had walked into an older area, a spare shack outside, that you finally let the tears fall. Your heart twisted in pain as sobs tore from your throat.

Why hasn't you seen this? Why weren't you enough?

------

Your research trip was almost over. You had gone back late into the night to find Link on the edge of his bed head in his hands. He had shot up to demand where you had been when you finally walked in and although he looked like he wanted to argue, he accepted that you had been organizing your research supplies and notes in quiet.

That had been 3 days ago. You had spent the research trip sticking close to your colleagues, poring over each plant and testing their uses. The princess was too distracted with her own interests to really notice how you shied away from her presence. Link had though. And he was about done with you brushing him off in favour of your work. You both were busy so not having time was nothing new. But this was different. You couldn't meet his eyes and he had caught you staring at him and Zelda as if you were about to cry before. He was at a loss and now he needed to figure things out for himself.

However he wasn't quite ready for the answer.

"I saw you and Zelda together."

His throat closed up. He wanted to say so many things. How sorry he was. How he wished he could have told you himself. How he wished he could hold you and forget how complicated things were.

"it's okay." Now that, he wasn't expecting. "I thought I could be mad at you. Both of you. But I guess... It just makes sense." You sniffled softly. You really didn't want to do this. You hated that it had to be you who gave up. But we're you really going to fight? No. As much as it tore your heart into pieces, you would stand aside for them. "I wish that things hadn't changed but, clearly you don't feel the same anymore and I don't want to hold you back. I love you. So much. But I don't deserve this, and I won't put either of us through the trouble. I hope you two are happy together Link."

As you walked towards your friends to head home Link felt his heart clench. You deserved so much better.

Sidon🦈

You were a princess from another kingdom, betrothed to Prince Sidon of the Zora. We all know how these things go, neither of you were all that fond of the idea but you would go through with it. For your kingdoms

You tried to be as understanding as possible of the situations, knowing that the prince was just as trapped as you were. So you played along with your parents wishes.

You two went on dates and spent time together, getting closer and closer until finally you kissed him.

Things were great. You were planning your wedding and enjoying the time you spent with your fiance as you prepared for your future

It wasn't until a few days before the wedding when you were trying on your dress that things fell apart.

Your dressmaker had been in a bad mood, grumbling as they worked and even sticking you with needles a few times. You would have brushed it off as a bad day if not for the facts that they seemed so unapologetic.

You finally brought it up, softly asking if there was something wrong and if you could help. They snapped, going off about how you were ruining the princes life and that he didn't love you and was only marrying you for his kingdom and that he deserved to be happy.

They realized their mistake and left quickly, leaving you alone in your wedding dress with shocked tears slipping down your face.

You later made you way to Sidons office, hoping to clear some things up and maybe seek comfort from the one you loved.

What you didn't expect was to find him already comforting someone. Your dressmaker.

You watched as he whispered sweet nothings and reassurances to them. It was when he said no matter what they were the one that he loved when you broke away.

You stood in your room, packed bags beside you. You knew there were better ways to deal with this. You knew that your kingdom was counting on you and thus marriage. You just couldn't go through with it. Not anymore.

"Y/n?"

You sound around to find the Zora princess standing in your doorway. Mipha had become a close friend in your time in the Zora domain, even feeling like family as you worked closely planning the wedding. She had once told you that you were everything she could hope for in a sister and wife for her brother. You guessed it didn't matter in the end.

Finally you choked out pained words "I can't... I just... I can't do this anymore."

"If you are feeling nervous, I can assure you my brother would never hurt you."

This made you laugh. It was cold, similar to the ice creeping into your veins. "He would. And he did." You cut off Mipha's confusion, wringing a hand through your hair, "Sidon is in love with someone else. I made every effort to work through this engagement despite our... rocky beginning. But he didn't choose me back. He never wanted me, and I won't ruin his chance to be happy."

The room was silent after your outburst. You only noticed the tears when your friend wiped them from your eyes. She offered you a small smile, sharing the pain you felt. She was losing you and still understood it was best for you. You needed to move on and save yourself from a life of pain. A life of being chosen second.

"I hope one day we can meet again, sister."

You let out a choked mix of a son and laugh. Hugging the princess before you grabbed your bags and walked out the door, out of the kingdom that stole your heart and crushed it in its hands.

"I love you, always."

[aenaxes-moved]

reverie

[crosshair x f!reader] kashyyyk is beautiful at night. crosshair takes advantage of the moment of peace to sneak away. you follow.

warnings: none, just some snoggin’ with cross (you can technically read this as gn!reader if you disregard the petname)

w/c: 2.2k

a/n: NO SPOILERS! this is me coping with the current crosshair situation :’-) i wanted to explore his softer side because dammit he’s got feelings (he might be a little out of character but my house my rules heheh)

“Nice hideout you have going on.”

“Had,” Crosshair corrects without looking up, too focused on carefully wrapping a rag around the scope of his firepuncher laid carefully across his lap.

Had you heard him speak one short year ago, when you were fresh out of GARMC orientation and shunted straight onto the Marauder, you would have certainly taken the sniper’s curtness for frigidity. And you had, for your first few months with Clone Force 99, taken his flat intonation and pointed tone with a timid squeak every time he’d come in for a bacta patch or hypodermic needle.

But things were different, now.

There is no deflated resignation that he’s been discovered, hidden a good few paces away from where Tech sits entranced by the wizened green Jedi master. Nor is there icy snarl curling at the edges of his lips, that you might deign to interrupt his alone time with Darling (nobody got between Crosshair with a microfiber cloth and Darling, not even Wrecker). Instead, he acknowledges you in his cool nonchalance, beckoning in the most backhanded of ways. You grin, seizing your welcome and ducking under a thick loop of vine into the small clearing where he sits perched on a boulder.

“Was Master Yoda talking too much?” you laugh, dropping down onto the balls of your feet as you peer up at Crosshair (who still won’t tear his laser focus from polishing over the dark metal of his rifle). You wrap your arms around your knees and grin when he groans.

“General Yoda is fine; it’s Tech that keeps prattling on with him,” Crosshair mutters, scrubbing a touch more aggressively at the base of the scope.

“Oh, Cross, let him have his fun,” you chide playfully, finally earning you a disdainful glance and a raised brow. “It’s not every day that you get to interrogate one of the oldest sentient beings in the galaxy.”

“Did you just call the general old?” Crosshair snorts, flipping his toothpick from one corner of his mouth to the other.

“Crosshair, how dare you accuse me like that!”

“You said it,” he shrugs, and you catch a glimpse of a fleeting smile before he turns his head back down, away, towards his rifle.

You huff, and for a moment after, there’s silence. Mostly because you know that even your best retort would be effortlessly shot down, but in part to just indulge, to look quietly at the ornery sniper you’ve come to call a dear friend, to take in him and all of his tall, confident quietude. You both know that he knows what you’re doing, drinking him in, but he says nothing every time.

It’s in these brief reveries that you catch him in his softest, purest, state, methodically cleaning the firepuncher, disassembling, reassembling, replaying the soothing knowledge and practice that every piece had its rightful place. Things would align. Even with his chin turned down, his features nearly obscured by the shadows of the jungle canopy, there’s just enough light yet to make out the slight upward turn of his lips, a wry smile around his toothpick as he unclips his scope.

“So why are you here?”

The daydream is broken, and you flicker your eyes up to his with an embarrassed cough when you notice he’s been staring back. And if his smug half-smile has anything to say, it’s a triumphant and coy I caught you.

“Well,” you laugh, quietly pushing down the rising heat high in your neck. “I wanted to try to see the night sky on Kashyyyk before we leave, but I’m too scared to go alone.” You plaster on the sickliest of smiles you can, batting your lashes up at Crosshair in the way that would have Wrecker at your beck and call in seconds, but one that you know has no effect on his brother.

“Bullshit.” Crosshair rolls his eyes, but he’s already snapping the scope back onto Darling and sliding down from his perch. “Only things in the galaxy you’re scared of are porgs,” he says as he fastens his rifle into his pack and slings one strap over his shoulder, offering his free hand down to you.

“They—they have weirdly sentient eyes, okay!” you snap a bit hotly. You blame the warmth blooming across your cheeks on the fact that only Crosshair knows about your fear of the terrifying little fellows, not that he’s squeezing your hand and hefting you onto your feet.

“Why not ask Wrecker to take you?” Crosshair asks, letting go of your hand—to your relief and dismay all at once—and brush off whatever undergrowth sits dusted over your shoulders. “He’s sappy.”

“He’s busy making friends with the Wookiees.” And butchering Shyriiwook while he did it.

“And Hunter?”

“He’s also making friends with the Wookiees.” It’s not entirely untrue, if learning how to whittle blades out of branches counted as friendly bonding.

“Echo?”

“Also... making friends... with the Wookiees.”

You both know Echo has probably long since fallen asleep after a dose of painkillers for his fall during a particularly messy bit of the firefight. You could have actually told Crosshair the truth, but a part of you won’t take your chances—depending on Crosshair’s mood, he’d send you back to wake up his newest brother and return to shining up the stock of his rifle. But instead of calling your bluff, Crosshair simply shakes his head and sighs, extending his hand to you.

Mind suddenly and miserably blank, you stare mutely at his outstretched palm, an offering, then up at him.

“Come on, you said you were scared,” Crosshair teases, a lazy, sloping smirk curved over his features. He beckons you with a single flick of his fingers. Smug bastard, you think.

“My hero,” you snark back, but you’re quick to close the distance. Even if it takes bearing a bit of his snide sideswipes, you’re surprised at how easy it is to set aside your headstrong pride and simper for the sniper’s attention (though he’s giving it much more freely than you had anticipated). Palm to palm, the cool fabric of his blacks between you, you secure your grip around him as snug as you can.

Crosshair leads you quietly through the underbrush, going so far as to lift drooping vines and push aside especially tall ferns for you, all the while keeping as secure a grip on your hand as your grip on his.

It’s comforting, even while tamping through the darkness. You trust all of his brothers with your life, but maybe, just maybe, you trust Crosshair just that much more as he leads you deeper into the jungle.

After an short trek, you arrive at another clearing, the ground barren and drier than the damp, brush heavy terrain you had come to know during the Kashyyyk campaign. It’s no bigger than the armory floor spread on the Marauder, but as Crosshair pulls you into the clearing, you realize it’s not the earth beneath your feet that commands your wonder.

Crosshair nods his chin up, and your eyes are quick to follow. It’s the pearlescent glow of the three moons high above the treetops, shining clear and soft down through the canopy skylight.

Two moons float above in the bluish gray darkness of the galaxy, the third moon peeking from behind a few trees, in between them, a delicate freckling of stars, twinkling planets, comets ambling quietly through space. You’re barely aware of the grin spreading across your face as you soak in the night sky. It’s everything you had hoped it would be.

And with Crosshair at your side, it’s just that much more.

“Found it while I was scouting,” Crosshair’s voice comes, soft through the ambient silence of the jungle. Even in your rapture, you can feel his eyes on you, lingering on the green earth and watching your wonder far up in the sky.

“It’s amazing,” you breathe, and you squeeze his hand. You tear your eyes away from the starscape above to meet Crosshair with a smile. “Thank you, Cross.”

The sniper is quiet as you meet his gaze, trained on you with an indiscernible expression, a depth in his dark eyes you have only seen once before when you caught a glimpse of him at the helm, looking quietly into the expanse of space laid out before him.

It’s peace, you decide. A stillness, a calm, the quietest respite in the midst of this war. You gently rub over his knuckles.

“Close your eyes, y/n,” Crosshair finally murmurs, barely above a whisper, his gaze unwavering. And your eyes are already fluttered shut when you hear something hit the underbrush and a crunch of dirt under his boot as he steps forward and loops an arm around your waist. You squeeze your eyes shut a bit tighter as you press up against the battle-worn plastoid of his chestplate and feel his fingers splay over your hip.

Warm, rough fingertips gently pinch your chin and tilt your head up just so. A soft breeze wafts over your cheeks, carrying with it the woody musk and cloying pollen of the forest around you, and it is in that moment that you realize that he had dropped his glove onto the forest floor, had left it there and chosen to hold you in his bare hand, smoothing his thumb over your skin.

“There’s a good girl.”

The only warning you get is a ghost of a breath gently exhaled onto your skin before there is warmth, pulled close and steady and sweet as Crosshair gently tugs on your bottom lip.

He’s soft, you think mindlessly through the blissful haze between your ears. You faintly register the taste of the lavender balm you had bought him planetside on Crucival as he trails his hand up from your hip, over the dip in your back, and up to cup the base of your neck, pulling you closer.

All that teething’ll dry you out you had told him, and he’d scoffed something along the lines of soldiers—especially clones—not needing or wanting luxury goods. And yet you taste the telltale floral notes on his skin. You foggily wonder if he keeps the little tin on his ammunition belt as he kneads firm, steady fingers into your neck. You’ll gloat about it later.

There’s lavender, and then you taste him, just a trace, when he drags his tongue over the plush skin of your lips. At some point, you’ve brought your hands up to curl at the base of his head, threading through neatly cropped silver strands, and you part your lips. Finally, finally you can taste him on your own tongue.

He’s battle weary, laced with the slightest tang of synthetic wood treatment bleached into his toothpicks, anxiety bitten and jaw clenched. But here, now, only the faint residues of that tension remain in his impossibly gentle, unhurried motions. Running his thumb from your chin to the corner of your jaw, he tugs, tilting your head and gently tugging your tongue into his mouth.

Warmth blooms through your chest, steady and soft, a pulsar light glowing through the darkness, and you pull him closer.

He pulls away first, if only by virtue of your fervent wish that this moment might never end, nipping lightly your bottom lip in parting. And when the heat radiating off his skin is no longer close enough to warm you in the cool forest night, you slowly open your eyes, hoping that you won't wake to the durasteel ceiling of your bunk glaring down on you.

It's not a dream, Maker bless.

Crosshair stands before you, barely half an arm's length away and already flicking another toothpick between his lips as he smiles, open and soft in the moonlight. Without his persistent scowl, his piercing gaze, he looks so, so achingly young. And, if only for a moment, free of the burdens of war. Just a simple man bathing in the starlight in the jungles of Kashyyyk.

He's beautiful.

"Hi, Cross," you whisper, voice doing little to hide your lingering daze, and you watch, eyes wide with starry wonder, as Crosshair shakes with quiet laughter, eyes closed and shoulders sloped low.

"Hi, y/n," he chuckles. He fixes you with another unreadable look, this one different from the first. It's softer and mellow, vibrant in thrumming waves of bliss, content.

But before you can decide, he reaches down to pick his glove off of the jungle floor, tapping off the dirt on his hip and then, without hesitation, stuffing it into his ammunition belt. There's a brief flash of purplish metal in the pocket he chooses. The balm. You were right.

He catches your astonishment with a soft huff and clips the pocket shut.

"All that teething does dry me out," he teases, but there is only quiet acknowledgement, gracious and still as he extends his ungloved hand to you in the waning moonlight.

You stare at him, dumbstruck.

"The general probably knows we're gone. Come on," Crosshair's smile shifts, assuming a much more familiar smirk to accompany the sharp, snarky lilt that washes over him. He flicks his fingers at you, rolling his toothpick between his teeth. "Be a good girl for me."

There's the Crosshair you know.

"You're insufferable," you mutter, the heat blazing on the tips of your ears as you duck your head. But you reach for him anyways, reveling in the slow slide of your skin over his palm, your fingers finding home intertwined with his.

"Such a good girl," he chuckles, lifting your knuckles to his lips for the barest of chaste, fleeting touches.

"I will make your next hypoderm hurt like hell," you grumble.

"Oh, I look forward to it."

[professorrw]

Safe House

Pairing: female reader x Steve Rogers

Request: Reader and Steve get stuck in a safehouse which just so happens to be a log cabin in the woods. It's winter and super cold, enter one of my favorite tropes: sharing body heat to keep warm. They end up confessing their feelings for one another and super fluffy cuddling ensues.

Warnings: fluff, love confession, mission, weapons, mentions of violence

A/N: I’ve decided to quit copying and pasting the same author’s note over and over. Just know that my taglist is open, my requests are open, and if you enjoy my writing please like, comment, and reblog! And when I get requests from AO3 I’ll put the request so you guys can have a kind of synopsis.

It started with a mission in Russia. It was winter and a dreadful one at that. The snow was coming down heavily. It was halfway up your calves and every step required far too much effort. It was supposed to be a quiet mission. You weren’t supposed to raise any alarm. You were just scouting. You were stationed on a hilltop with Steve and your job was to just observe for a few hours.

Binoculars in hand you surveyed the entrance to the compound.

“It looks like they have five or six of them at the gate. Two on posts right in front of the door and four on the ground. They’re all carrying guns.” You lowered your binoculars and pulled your mask back over your face.

“Hm… okay. Can you see past the walls at all?” He pointed at the iron fence that surrounded the compound. It was over twenty feet tall and impossible to climb.

You raised the binoculars back up and zoomed them in. You had to point them at just the right place to be able to even see the ground inside. It was crawling with guards and other personnel. If you were to break in there would be a hell of a fight.

“Swarming with guards from what I can tell. All with armor on and weapons in hand. Whatever their protecting must be pretty important.” Every word you spoke was creating clouds in front of you from how cold the air was. The snow was biting at your face and as soon as you were done talking you pulled your ski mask back up. You and Steve both were bundled in snow gear and coats but the cold was penetrating them.

“Here, you should eat something.” Steve held out a thermos and spoon and you took it. You unscrewed the lid and sat up. The whole front of your coat was packed with snow from lying on the ground and you batted it off with a gloved hand. You passed the binoculars to Steve so he could take a look himself.

You couldn’t see your partner's face but you still knew exactly the expression he was making. His brows were knit together and his lips were pursed. After knowing him for so long you knew every expression he made. It wasn’t just because you knew him for so long but because you loved him. Genuinely loved him. He was devoted to the team and to everything he did. He never, no matter what, gave up.

You had been partners for so long it was natural that you got close. He trusted you and you trusted him. There was a type of chemistry that made you work in perfect harmony. It was an unsaid understanding that had passed between you two. Steve was a gentleman though. He wouldn’t make any passes at you. It was hard to tell whether or not he felt the same way towards you. At times it seemed that his behavior was simple comradery.

You sipped at the warm soup while Steve looked around.

“We’ll be here for a few hours if we want to know their rotations. At the moment it doesn’t seem like anything’s going on,” he explained. “In the meantime we should eat and double check the equipment.”

You nodded and continued to finish off your food. Steve picked up his own thermos and pulled his mask down, revealing his face. He noticed your staring and smiled. “What? Is there something on my face?”

“No. No, you look fine.” You looked away and smiled out of his view. You finished up your soup and pulled your face mask back on. You rifled through your backpack and checked over your equipment. Everything was still in working order so you packed it back up and leaned against it. Steve was an inhumanely quick eater and was already done with his food too.

He checked his bag and verified that his devices were working. For the next hour you both sat and took turns using the binoculars. Between viewings you would talk. Not about the mission but about random things.

“This wouldn’t be so bad if it wasn’t cold,” you said.

“It reminds me of Bangladesh in a way.”

“What?” you asked in astonishment. “It’s freezing out here, Bangladesh was warm.”

“Well other than that it’s similar. Remember? We were together scouting just like this.” Behind his mask a small smile appeared on Steve’s face. He remembered crystal clear the first time he realized he loved you. It had been almost two years yet he remembered all the events that took place. It was one of the scariest days of his life.

It was days after the initial scouting and the team was infiltrating the base. You two managed to get split up. Steve didn’t know where you went but then as he was running out he heard an explosion on the other side of the building. He ran back in- He couldn’t help it. If there was any chance that you were in there… 

He ran like his life depended on it. His blood was pumping and his heartbeat was loud in his ears. He covered his face. Dust had risen everywhere and he couldn’t see a thing. He yelled your name but there was no response. Someone collided with him.

“Steve! Steve, what are you doing? Get out of here!” Clint yelled.

“Y/N! Where’s Y/N? Have you seen her?” Steve’s heart was racing and he was frantic.

“No! Now come on-” Steve didn’t stay to hear the end of it. He ran past Clint and further into the building. He kept yelling your name. He was scared. His throat was constricted and he couldn’t breath. The wind had been knocked out of him. Nothing had physically touched him. It was the thought of losing you that rendered him breathless.

A voice called out. Your voice. It wasn’t ahead of him, it was somewhere to the Northwest of him. He ran towards your voice. As he got closer another voice was heard. “Y/N get back here! It’s dangerous! This whole place could collapse at any second!” Natasha’s voice.

“Y/N where are you?” Steve yelled.

“Steve? Steve! Oh my god you’re alive!” You both ran. You couldn’t see anything so the only thing you could use was your ears. You ran into him and wrapped your arms around him. Tears were staining the corners of your eyes and making them sting worse than they already were. Steve clung to you, convinced he would never be able to let go.

“You’re okay,” you whispered. “I thought you were here. I thought you got caught in the explosion.”

A choked laugh came out of Steve’s mouth. You were worried about him too. You were worried about the super soldier dying. You risked your life to run back and find him. He had risked his life to come back and find you. Because of all the people there- of all the people he knew- he was most afraid of losing you.

“Steve! Steve, look!” you leaned over and shook Steve, who had zoned out. You pointed to the compound where someone was shouting and soldiers were starting to run out of the gates. With your binoculars you saw someone. Someone that was looking at you.

Static came from your walkie-talkie. “Get out of there you two! They know you're there! Go to the safe house! Hurry!” Natasha’s voice was crinkly but you could make out the fear in it.

You looked at Steve for a second and got up. You put your bag on and started running towards the snowmobile. You swung your leg over on the back of it and when Steve got on you wrapped your arms around his waist. He turned the key and you were off.

You could hear shouting in the distance behind you. You could see a speck, which you assumed to be a soldier, at the spot you were using to scout. He was the first to get to the top of the hill and he could see you. Gunshots rang out in the air. You clutched Steve’s waist as you wove in and out of trees.

The voices died out after a few minutes. You were trembling. The wind and snow was whipping your face. You couldn’t look around anymore or else you would get frostbite. You pressed your face against the back of Steve’s coat. It was slick and cold but it was better than nothing.

You could feel the shift from being on flat land to being on a slope. Steve drove down the hill and past hundreds of snow covered trees. He drives for over two hours before he comes to a stop. You lift your head and look around. You had never been to the safe house but it was a nice little log cabin surrounded by woods.

Steve could see how violently you were shivering and ushered you into the cabin. It was pitch black inside and when you flicked the light switch nothing happened.

“Come over here and I’ll light a fire. You should take off your coat, it’s wet.” Steve kneeled by the fireplace and threw in a match he had lit. The fire grew bigger and the room was illuminated. You hung your coat up on the rack next to the door and shuffled over to the fire. Steve had already sat down and discarded his coat. You sat down as close as you could to the fire without actually getting burnt.

You were still shivering. The room itself was cold and the only thing being warmed was your front. The biting chill that you had been feeling for hours was still there. You rubbed your hands together.

“Are you cold?” Steve asked.

“Y-Yeah.”

Steve scooted closer to you and opened his arms. “We’ll be warmer this way.”

You nodded and he wrapped his arms around you when you got in his lap. Your back was pressed against his chest and you could feel the rise and fall of it. He was nice and warm and even though you were freezing and hiding from bad people you wished that you would be in his arms more often.

“This isn’t so bad,” Steve said. His voice was right behind your ear and you could feel his breath against it when he spoke. It sent shivers throughout your body.

You let out a little nose laugh. “You don’t think so?”

“No, because I’m with you. Nothing seems that bad when I’m with you.”

A fuzzy feeling erupted in your body. You turned around to look at Steve. His kind blue eyes were looking into yours and a soft smile was on his face. You swallowed. This was the first time you had been in such close proximity. Your face was inches from his. You could just lean in a few centimeters and you would kiss.

Steve noticed that you were looking at his lips. He couldn’t judge you- he was looking at your lips too. Your eyes flickered to each other and you both leaned in. Your eyes closed and your lips met. All that waiting, all those years of built up feelings had finally come out.

You parted and Steve pressed his forehead against yours. You reached your hand out and pressed it against Steve’s cheek. He placed his hand over yours.

“Y/N I love you.”

“I love you too Steve.” You weren’t breathless but the way you said it was like you had been holding it back for years. And you had. A tear pricked at the corner of your eye and you laughed. Who knew that the thing that would make you two confess was being trapped together in a safe house?

You scooted back against Steve and he wrapped his arms around you again. He kissed the top of your head and you sat like that until you eventually moved to the couch. A few hours later your walkie-talkie beeped and you were alerted that Natasha was on her way to pick you two up. Oh how delighted she would be when she found out what had happened.

[not-me-simping-for-blasty]

Wrong Number, Asshole - A Bakugou Katsuki Soulmate AU

All Parts

Part 21:

You were nervous, practically fainting under the pressure as you pulled open the hospital’s front door. The trip to Jaku was fairly easy, only a brief 45 minutes, and in that time you hadn’t managed to calm yourself at all.

You stomach was rolling with nerves- twisting and turning and making you feel so very sick. You tried to reason with yourself, tried to convince yourself to lower your expectations. There was nothing for you to be worried about, here! You hadn’t lied! Or hid anything, or pretended like you were a good person when you maybe weren’t. 

Bakugou did that. He did that and he was the reason your eyes were still puffy and why your head still ached. He had things to apologize for- not you.

So why did it feel like all you wanted to do was throw your arms around him and forget everything and just be happy?

The longer you sat with it, the more you thought you understood. Even if he was bad, even if he did bad things, he was still your soulmate. He was still the other half of you and you were selfish- so, so selfish and you couldn’t make yourself give that up. Couldn’t ever possibly make a strong enough argument for abandoning him. You knew that, even if you didn’t want to admit it. It was why you were even at the hospital after all.

You shook your head, trying to focus on the matter at hand. 

“Hi,” You greeted, hoping your smile seemed genuine to the receptionist. “Bakugou Katsuki, please, room 427.”

She just looked at you funny, tapping at the device in her ear. “Yeah, I got another girl down here asking for Dynamite? Where’s security?”

You heart began seizing, lungs stuttering with panic as she continued to stare you down. After a long fifteen seconds she spoke again.

“Well, isn’t it your lucky day. Apparently, he wants to see you. What a surprise.” She announced un-enthusiastically, handing you a slip of paper. “Take the stairs to the left, all the way up to level 4, and then follow the instructions on the paper.” 

You just nodded in a daze, holding the paper in your shaking fingers and moving towards the stairs. Suddenly, you were even more nervous than before. You pushed open the stair doors, and realized this moment felt bigger than you. Bigger than anything in your entire life. Every singular event and decision had brought you here and the only thing you could do was stare dumbly at the stairs in front of you.

No. You knocked a closed fist gently against your forehead. I’m fine. I’m been waiting forever for this shit. It’s just stupid Bakugou.

You took one step, pulling your shaky legs along with two hands on the guardrail. Another step, only pull. Another step another pull. You were conquering the stairs, and this moment, gaining momentum before you knew it. With feet moving unbidden and sure and careful and climbing, you rise, steps taking you higher and higher until you hit the 4th floor. It’s a maze of hallways from there, a strange puzzle of paintings that all look the same and tiles that are two shades too dark and doctors and people rushing past and shoving, but your feet are steady, one after the other, fast, fast, faster, and you don’t falter. You don’t falter and you walk down another hallway, look at your paper, take a left, walk a little further, look at your paper, take a right, walk further and faster and further and farther, past room 423, past room 424, past room 425, past room 426, turn another corner, rush past a man wheezing in a wheelchair, skid to a stop- room 427. 

You heart hammers in your chest- beating against your ribcage and threatening to burst through your too-thin skin. Your breath shudders, fingers shaking as you push the door- push it open, and wider, and widest, and open.

His face is the very first thing you see. It’s all you can see. All the machines and the hospital bed, all the bandages and the IV’s stuck into his skin- they all fade away. There’s just him and his blonde hair and the way his shoulder’s slope and the defined musculature of his arms. He is real and breathing and solid, and so, so, beautiful. Bakugou’s every breath seems to arrest you, keep you in place and strung tight like a live-wire, electricity running trails of fire through every vein- and his eyes.

His eyes that are darker, deeper, duller- less like raging volcanoes, and more like delicate rubies. They’re red. Red like nothing you’ve ever seen before, and startling and surprising, but it’s not an angry red. Not a violent red. You decide then that Bakugou is a soft, dignified red- he’s hot wax cooling over a sealed envelope, like a slowly healing cut just beginning to fade. 

Something in you slots into place. You feel it in your mind, in your bones, in your chest. You’re not itchy anymore, you’re not searching. There is no puzzle left to solve and your finally have all the pieces to your soul; no longer aching anymore for something you knew you should’ve always had. Your skin is finally yours- no longer loose and ill-fitting and stretched thin saving room for someone you hadn’t met yet. You felt right- finally. Settled for the first time in your entire life, like somehow, you’d always knew you’d end up standing exactly where you were.

You think Bakguou must feel it too. He nods something almost imperceptible, but his face softens. He looks so sure- so confident as he looks at you. Like he always expected you to be exactly who you were. Like some part of him too always somehow knew this was going to happen.

You’re tearing up before you can help it, rushing into the room and to his bedside.  

“What are ya fuckin’ cryin’ for, idiot?” Bakugou huffs, but his voice comes out strained; buried under thick, barely-restrained emotion. “Nothin’ new left to cry about now, stop it.”

“I can’t,” You’re wiping at tears with your sleeve. “After all this time- my whole life- It’s just- you’re- you’re you. ”

“Course I fuckin’ am.” He says. Bakugou then clears his throat, voice becoming much softer. “Always was to you.” 

“I-I know. But it’s just- you’re real.” 

He can’t say it back, you can see it in his pinched face and blushing cheeks, but Bakugou nods. You know he feels the same. 

“It’s- I- I just didn’t think I’d ever be here,” You start, sinking easily into the chair next to his bed. “And after everything I jus-”

“I’m sorry!” His voice interrupts the relative quiet, cutting through like a knife. He nearly screamed his words, and when you look over at him Bakugou won’t meet your eyes. He’s studying the hospital blankets beneath his fingers, folding and clenching them between fingers gone white from the pressure. “I- I mean that. More than fuckin’ anything.” 

“I know.” You say.

The room goes quiet again, and any of the calming completeness you had felt earlier seemed to be fading. Suddenly it’s not just the feeling of finding your soulmate running through you, but the feeling of finding Bakugou. Bakugou who is sitting in front of you, injured and weaker than Dynamite and he doesn’t look like someone who could hurt anything or anyone but then you remember that video- that scream, those eyes. 

“Just- fuckin’ say it already. I can see your face, idiot.” Bakugou’s voice is authoritative but not pushy. Inquisitive but not demanding. “It’s- I know your holding back, so just fuckin’ quit it already, alright?.”

“It’s- I just need to know. You said, on the phone, that it wasn’t you, in the video.” You close your eyes. If you look at him any longer you think you’ll lose your nerve. “If it wasn’t you, who was it?”

“I-” You watch as his face falls, eyebrows pulling together. Then he’s turning red, wringing his fingers together and casting his eyes toward your shoes instead of your face. “Can ya- can I- I just have to think. Give me a second. I have to make sure I get the fuckin’ words right.” 

You nod. Bakugou seems to leave you for a moment, eyes un-focusing and fingers twitching minutely. He suddenly looks up, meeting your eyes.

“It’s- I shouldn’ta said that shit. It was- I did that. Me.” He admits, words tight and strained like they’re hard for him to speak. He’s got a hand pressed to his mouth, head turned sharply to face the window. He refuses to meet your eyes once more. “But- I’m not- I’m tryin’ not to fuckin’ be like that anymore! I’m workin’ on it or whatever. Since then! E-ever since then.” 

“Okay.” You nod. “What happened to the person? In the video?”

Your question seems to upset him, and he throws his hand harshly against the bed. Bakugou breathes- eyebrows pinched together tightly until his shoulders aren’t held together so tensely anymore.

“I told you. I didn’t- everybody always talks about that fuckin’ stupid-ass video but it was only the camera!” He grits his teeth suddenly, sharply inhaling and exhaling until his jaw relaxes once more. His eyes still remain screwed shut. “I meant that. What I said on the phone. The fuckin’ person was fine! Wasn’t fuckin’ hurt. J-just scared.” 

You want to believe him. More than anything you want to believe him, but those eyes you saw were hard to forget. They almost seemed like they belonged to someone else- like they couldn’t possibly have belonged to the same guy who’d called you sunshine and helped you with your anxiety and cleared his schedule every night at exactly 7:00 PM. The Bakugou you had come to know was so far removed from the man in the video- the scary, feral, thoughtless man who seemed to attack someone without just cause.

You closed your eyes for a moment, bringing your hands together in your lap. He said he was trying- he made it very clear that was true with his careful breathing and the way he asked for time to think about his words first. The Bakugou sitting in front of you was not the same man in the video. His eyes weren’t violent erupting volcanoes anymore- they were slowly crystallizing gemstones. Precious, valuable things still slowly changing into something new.

“Okay.” You nod. “I believe you.”

Bakugou cracks open his eyes slowly, looking intensely at you. Something anxious in his eyes melts away, relief filling his features and settling in the barely-there curve of his smile. His shoulders relax and he takes a deep breath and a crackle, a pop and-

“Did you? Was that-” You point at his palms. “Was that your quirk?”

“No! Fuck no, why would you even fuckin’ say that- obviously not, because my quirk is fuckin’ cool not some shitty, embarrassing, tiny-”

“Bakugou.” You interrupt sternly, staring him down. “Honesty, remember?”  

He groans, and flushes. His hand crackles again, something small and dancing just across his palm and Bakugou races to cover it. He then wipes his hands on his hospital gown harshly, turning his entire body toward the window to cover the way he’s still blushing. It doesn’t work though. You see him all the same.

“Yes.” He admits, and he just sounds so defeated, it makes you crack a smile. “But don’t fuckin’ say anything, okay? It’s all your fuckin’ fault, damn woman! Started the first time you called me and I can’t get it to fuckin’ stop no matter what I do it’s-”

“Can I see your hand?”

“H-huh?”

“Your hand,” You reach toward him gently. “I wanna see. Give it.” 

Bakugou doesn’t look at you, just raises his arm and jabs it out toward you. The movement is stunted and awkward, like he can’t control his limbs right, and when you look at him his entire neck has started going red too. He waves his extended hand impatiently, urging you to get on with it.

Slowly, so very slowly, you poke a single finger into the smooth skin of his wrist. Just a feather-light touch. A near-weightless pressure against soft skin.

Pop.

You poke him again.

Pop.

Suddenly embarrassed, you pull both your hands to cover your eyes and blushing cheeks, and begin giggling uncontrollably.

Pop. Pop. Crackle. 

Bakugou moves so brashly that it startles you, and he’s pulling his hand back to him, and curling it into his chest. He’s using his other hand to press into the crackling one, finally smothering the sound of a last few pops sounding off. When you finally peek between your fingers, he’s somehow redder than before. 

He’s adorable and you’re laughing and you can’t stop laughing because he’s shy and embarrassed and so defenseless against you. Every part of you is warm from the top of your head to the burning tips of your toes, your smile spreading so wide that it over takes your entire face. 

“It’s-it’s not fuckin’ funny!” Bakugou shouts. “Stop goddamn laughing, you shitty fuckin’ woman! It’s a good quirk! It’s not fuckin’ funny!” 

“It is.” You agree, gasping to catch your breath. “It’s a very good quirk Bakug-.” 

“K-Katsuki!” He shouts suddenly, interrupting you entirely. He seems surprised at his own outburst, blushing again and smacking his hand against his forehead. He groans. Loudly. “It’s- I- Katsuki. That’s my name.” 

“O-oh. Okay.” You say shakily, heart beginning to race once more. “K-Katsuki, huh?”

Pop. Pop. Pop.

Bakugou screams. Just howls something deep and defeated and animalistic from the bottom of his chest. It fills the room, seemingly taking up all the space, and you could’ve sworn the windows were rattling. You start laughing.

“Fuck! Oh my god! You fucking did this to me, shitty woman! You- you’re- stop fucking laughing!” Bakugou is screaming, arms gesturing wildly. “This isn’t fucking funny! Something is seriously fucking wrong with me! A-and and you don’t even fucking care! You just think it’s funny! I’m fuckin’ broken, fuckin’ suffering, and you’re laughing!”

“It’s- I’m not!” You shakily defend, barely able to complete the words. 

“See now you’re just fuckin’ lyin to me! Goddamn fuckin’ liar for a soulmate!” He’s yelling, hot air and fire and irritation seeping from his lips. “You know, it’s just my fuckin’ luck too, you know! To end up with such a fuckin’ idiot for a soulmate! Who just fuckin’ keeps laughin’ and lookin’ cute an-”

Bakugou screeches. He throws his hands down on the bed, palm up, full-on miniature explosions beginning to spout from his fingertips.

“What the fuck did you do to me? What the fuck- I-I didn’t say that! You didn’t hear anything! Would you quit fuckin’ laughing at me?” 

You just hold your palm up, tears gathering at the corner of your eyes. Bakugou stares at it, burning holes so intensely and brazenly, so utterly focused and enraged that it sends you into further hysterics. It takes you a good five minutes to sober up.

“It’s- I’m not. I’m not laughing at you.” You lean forward in your seat, just a little bit closer to the guardrail of the hospital bed. “You just- you make me happy ‘sall.”

Bakugou gags. Audibly. The sound rips from his chest and up his throat and contorts his face.

“Don’t just fuckin’ say that!”

“What the hell?” You ask incredulously, hands flying wildly. “You literally told me you like me over the phone! Literally yesterday! But now you’ve got a whole ass problem with me saying that you make me happy? What the fuck, angry man?!”

“It’s- I didn’t- fuck!” He shouts, voice raising to cover yours. “Stop makin’ me remember all this embarrassing shit! You’re doing this on fuckin’ purpose! I know you are, shitty woman!” 

“I wouldn’t make you remember it so much it you just fuckin’ owned up to it in the first place, you coward!” You screeched. “If you already said it, and I said I like you, then what’s the big fuckin’ deal, huh?” 

Bakugou suddenly goes quiet, his hands fidgeting with the sheets. He chuckles. “You said you like me. Again. Fuckin’ dork.”

“Oh my god! You’re fucking infuriating! No-no don’t just sit there and fucking grin at me! That’s- stop!” 

And truly, you meant it. You wanted him to stop looking at you like that, stop crinkling up his eyes, and most of all stop smiling because you didn’t think your heart could handle it. Everything about him made your blood boil, and every nerve stand straight on end- but it was good too. So warm and comforting and just funny. 

He was Bakugou and Dynamite and your Soulmate. All in one, awkward, crackling, loud fucking package. 

-//--

ee hav sum fluff ,, as a ~reward~

[originalhybridloverfics]

The Start of Our Forever - Ch 3 Unexpected Interruptions

Summary: Thea stops by to check on Felicity and sees something unexpected.

A/N: Wow, it's been forever since i wrote in this. Plus, I haven't been writing that much lately. Haven't been feeling well on top of all the personal stuff I have going on.

Anyway, have some Olicity Smut.

Oliver’s arm moved in search of his wife as he buried his head deeper into the pillow but all he felt was empty sheets.

His eyes fluttered open, sliding his hand across her side of the bed. It was still warm from her.

“Felicity?” he mumbled, sitting up slowly.

He could hear the shower running, he looked at the clock and saw it was almost noon.

He wasn’t surprised he had slept in so long. Felicity and he were busy most of the night.

They really needed to soundproof their walls before they scarred their children for the rest of their lives.

Since he got back they were catching up on lost time and were as careful as they could be not to let William catch them or overhear them having sex.

They had succeeded so far.

He looked toward the bathroom door that was half open and couldn’t resist, he swung his legs over the side of the bed and stood, heading straight for the bathroom.

Steamed filled the room, fogging up the mirror and the shower door.

He could just make out the outline of her body as she washed her hair out.

He walked into the bathroom and pushed his boxers down, he pulled the door open, sliding in behind her silently.

He watched the way her muscles tensed before relaxing a moment later.

She knew he was there.

He wound his arm around her waist and pulled her back until her naked back was flushed against his chest, her every soft curve pressing into the hard lines of his body.

He swept her hair to the side and caught the water slipping down the slope of her neck with his tongue.

Felicity out a low keen, and leaned her head back against him, her arm moving to wind around his neck, fisting his hair.

She tugged on his hair and he felt it right down to his dick as it hardened, pressing against her lower back.

Felicity grabbed his arm around her waist with her free hand, dragging it up her body between her breast, and lifted it to her mouth pressing a kiss to his palm.

Heat flared through him at the feel of her skin, he dragged his hand back down her body, slowly. Stopping on her breast, feeling the weight of them in his hand. The tightening of her nipple against his palm.

His thumb brushed back and forth across it, earning a beautiful whine from his wife.

His other hand moved to her ass, squeezing the supple flesh before siding around and cupping her wet sex.

“Oliver!” Felicity’s core throbbed, needing to feel her husband.

“Shh, We can’t be too loud.” Oliver cautioned her as his thumb found her clit, rubbing against it.

“My mom stopped by earlier and took the kids for the day,” Felicity breathed, scratching her nails at his scalp. “They won’t be back for hours.”

“In that case,” Oliver fingers circled her entrance before sinking two fingers inside of her and simultaneously, pinching her nipple.

Felicity cried out, her body jerking forward.

Oliver pulled her back with his hand on her breast, his hips moving against her backside. “God, you’re so responsive and wet. I love it.”

“For you.” Felicity’s other hand snuck behind him and gripped his hardened cock.

Her hand on his dick mimicked the motions of his thrusting fingers.

Her hand twisted when he curled his fingers deep inside her and he cursed, pulling his fingers from her body and stopping her hand on him. “I need to feel you wrapped around me.”

“God, yes, please.” Felicity’s body ached with the need for something bigger than his fingers stretching, moving, stroking deep inside her.

Oliver gripped her by the hips, fingers digging into her flesh. “Brace yourself against the wall.”

Felicity placed both her hands on the wall as Oliver’s hand slid to her back, bending her forward, her back arching.

Oliver gripped himself and rubbed the head of his cock at her entrance.

Felicity let out a whimper and pushed back against him.

Oliver groaned as the head of his cock disappeared into her body. He gripped her by both hips, holding her still. “You know, I’m not wearing a condom, right?”

“I don’t care,” Felicity said, her voice filled with need. “It’s you and it’s me and nothing else matters. Please, Oliver, I need you.”

Oliver groaned and slid into her slowly.

Felicity let out a low keen.

Oliver gave her time to adjust to his size, feeling her fit him like a tight-fitting glove, stroking into her slowly, burying his length as deep as he could.

Felicity panted, mouth parting, her eyes slid close reveling in the slow pleasure coursing through her.

Oliver pressed himself as deep as he could curling around her, feeling the hot water pouring over their naked wet skin.

His lips found the back of her neck sucking the skin of her shoulder as one hand moved from her hip to grasp at her breast, rolling her nipple between his fingers.

Felicity let out a pleasure-filled gasp, his hips swiveled and he rubbed at a spot deep inside her that had her wanting more.

“More, I need more.” Felicity’s voice cracked, filled with passion.

Oliver released her breast sliding both his hands to her lower back as he stood up straighter, his lips leaving her skin, watching as he slid out of her.

Felicity let out a whimper that quickly turned into a cry as Oliver thrust himself inside her fast and hard.

He gripped at her hips as he kept a fast pace, each thrust harder than the one before.

“Oh, God,” Felicity hung her head, her small cries of pleasure increasing, feeling Oliver taking her as if they haven’t been having sex every night since he got back.

Oliver groaned, feeling her convulse around him. She felt so fucking perfect and the sounds she was making only fueled him on like a rush of adrenaline.

He slid one hand down her body, smoothing down her leg until he reached her knee and without warning he hooked it over his arm, opening her more and plunge inside.

Felicity cried, her body jolting forward, hands smacking against the shower wall. “Fuck!”

Oliver did it again and she fell forward, Oliver’s arm banded around her stomach to keep her from collapsing as he changed the angle of his thrust, bending his knees and driving up into her.

Felicity cried out, he hit a spot inside her that had her erupting like a volcano, crying out again.

Oliver groaned as he felt her come around his dick, her orgasm, triggering his own. He lost the rhythm as his dick gave a twitch on the last thrust and he came with a low groan of her name, spilling his essence inside of his wife’s welcoming body.

Felicity removed her hand from the wall, reaching back running her fingers through his hair. Oliver lowered her leg, pulling out of her, and held her to him protectively.

“You’re amazing,” Felicity murmured, breathless.

“Not more than you.” Oliver turned her in his arms and scooped down to capture her mouth in a filthy kiss that promised more. “What do you say we move this to a bed?”

Felicity wrapped her arms around his neck and kiss him deeply.

Oliver scooped her up, wrapping her legs around her waist, and carried her out of the shower.

No sooner had he settled Felicity on the bed, covering her with his body, he felt her hands pushing at his chest.

He rolled onto his back and Felicity wasted no time in moving to straddle his hips.

Felicity leaned down capturing his lips in a heated kiss as her hand moved between them and wrapped around his dick, he grew hard again under her touch.

One of the things Felicity loved about her husband was his stamina. It was insane.

God, did she love benefitting from it. It was like being fucked by a sex god or something.

She moved her hips, her swollen clit sliding over his hardened shaft.

Oliver groaned, his hands gripping her thighs squeezing as she moved over him. He was experiencing the sweetest torture, feeling her and her wetness against his cock but not being inside her.

“Felicity, please,” Oliver begged, his voice carried so much need Felicity felt her core clenched, aching to be filled. “Baby, please, please, I need you.”

“Me too,” Felicity gripped his shaft, lining the head of his cock with her opening and sunk down on him, slowly, savoring every inch as it filled her.

“Oh, shit” Oliver grunted his fingers digging into her flesh.

“Oliver,” Felicity moaned out, her eyes sliding shut. It felt so good to feel him inside her. She swore it was like his dick was made just for her, he was so thick and long, she felt so full with him buried deep inside her. “You feel so good.”

“You’re stealing my lines.” Oliver shifted his hips, encouraging her to move.

Slowly, Felicity started moving sliding up and down his shaft.

Oliver grunted, his hands gliding over her body, squeezing at her breast, down her torso, sliding over her back and down to her ass, urging her to move faster.

Felicity moaned as his hands squeezed her ass and she picked up her pace.

Oliver loved the sounds she was making and wanted more, he wanted to hear her crying out. He bent his legs, planting his feet into the bed, and thrust up into her with force.

Felicity cried out sharply, throwing her head back in pleasure.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Thea pulled out in front of Felicity’s home. She looked at the ring gracing her finger and couldn’t wait to share her good news. Maybe something happy would cheer Felicity up for a little while.

Thea was worried for her sister-in-law. Ever since they had lost Oliver, Felicity had all but disappeared from her life, hiding from the world. Thea feared that Felicity was drowning in her grief and that couldn’t be good for her or William.

If Felicity couldn’t take care of herself how could she possibly care for William? Not to mention her mom and Tommy had been acting weird anytime Felicity, or William, or Oliver’s death was mentioned.

Thea exited her car and walked up to the door. She knocked on it several times but when she got no answer she tried the handle and found it wasn’t locked.

She let herself in. “Calling out, Felicity, are you home?” She walked further into the home. “Felicity, I was hoping we could grab some lunch. I have news I want to share with you.”

Thea walked further into her home and stopped at the sound of a cry feeling the air.

She broke out into a run, believing Felicity was in trouble. She ran down the hallway to Felicity’s bedroom and threw the door open.

Her eyes widened at what she saw.

She could see Felicity naked, riding some man, her head thrown back in intense pleasure, crying out for more.

“So good.” Felicity moaned her hips rocking. “Don’t stop, baby, please, don’t stop.”

“Oh my God,” Thea exclaimed.

Felicity looked over her shoulder in alarm to see Thea standing there in shock. “Thea!” she froze, stopping all movement.

“Oh, God, sorry.” Thea left the room quickly slamming the door shut behind her.

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

“Oh my God, I had no idea, she was coming by.” Felicity lifted herself off Oliver, reluctantly.

She had been so close. So fracking close.

Oliver groaned. “No, Felicity,” he reached for her again.

“Your sister’s here, she doesn’t even know you’re back.” Felicity slid out of the bed and grabbed one of Oliver’s large t-shirts. “I’m gonna go talk to her. Get cleaned up, and come join us. She’s gonna want to see you.”

~*~ ~*~ ~*~

Thea paced back and forth in the living room. This was all wrong.

Oliver was gone for not even two months and Felicity already had someone else in her bed. What was wrong with her. It was too soon for Felicity to be moving on. Let alone fucking someone in the bed she once shared with Oliver.

And where the hell was William? What was Felicity thinking?

Something else had to be going on here. Nothing made sense.

“Thea,”

Thea whirled around to see Felicity standing behind her in nothing more than a gray t-shirt that hung off her shoulder and stopped at her mid-thigh. Her hair was wild, the very definition of sex hair. Her mouth was swollen, red patches on her neck.

God, she looked completely debauched.

“Are you out of your mind?” Thea asked.

Felicity’s frowned. “What?”

“I know you are grieving Felicity but that is no excuse for bringing some stranger home and screwing him in your and Ollie’s bed.”

Felicity’s expression darkened. “Is that what you think I did?”

“I think you’re spiraling. You haven’t been around, ignoring everyone’s calls. You’re secretive. You’re taking strange men home.” Thea wanted to be sympathetic but it was really hard after what she saw.

“You really think I am capable of just fucking some stranger in the bed I shared with my husband?” Felicity demanded.

“I didn’t before this but I can’t unsee what I saw.” Thea took a step toward. “Felicity. I know you’re hurting but you can’t spiral out like this, you have William to think about.”

“I know that which is why I would never bring some stranger into our home and fuck him,” Felicity ground out.

“I know what I saw,” Thea fought off a shudder. “You were-”

The door behind Felicity open and Thea froze as she watched her brother stepped out of Felicity’s bedroom, wearing a pair of sweat and a gray t-shirt. “Oh my God, Ollie!” Thea couldn’t believe her eyes.

“Hey, Speedy.” Oliver greeted, stepping forward.

Thea clung tightly to her brother, feeling his arms coming around her. “How?” she asked pulling back.

“It’s a long story, one I don’t really feel like getting into at the moment.”

Thea nodded, releasing him. “How long have you been back?”

“A little over a week,” Oliver answered.

Thea nodded and looked at Felicity. “I’m sorry about-”

“Don’t worry about it,” Felicity waved her off.

She wasn’t going to let a stupid misunderstanding and wrongful assumption ruin Oliver’s return or his reunion with his sister.

“Why haven’t you guys told anyone? Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I needed to spend time with my wife and kids but mom and Tommy and Donna already know,” Oliver explained.

“We are telling on a select few. We don’t want everyone knowing Oliver’s back. You, Roy, we still have to tell John and Lyla.” Felicity explained.

“It’s going to be hard to keeping the rest of the world from finding out about this.” Thea reasoned.

“As far as the rest of the world is concerned Oliver Queen is dead. I know I won’t be able to stay out of the public eye but for now, I can,” said Oliver.

Thea nodded in understanding. “Sure, maybe once everyone knows we can all get together and celebrate your back.”

“I’ll like that,” Oliver said, wrapping his arm around his wife and tugging her inside.

Felicity wound her arms around his waist, holding onto him.

“I’m going to go and let you guys get back to..” she trailed off, scrunching her face in disgust as she recalled walking in on during sex. “Maybe take Willaim off your hands for a bit” Thea paused suddenly. “Wait you said kids as more than one.”

Oliver and Felicity shared a look before Oliver explained about Mia and why they chose to keep this a secret.

“Wow, I can’t believe everything that you’ve been keeping secret. I understand, of course, but when can I meet my niece?” asked Thea.

“Soon,” Felicity promised. “Why don’t you and Roy come by in a few days. We’re gonna get everyone together to meet her and tell them about Oliver.”

“I’m going to hold you to that,” Thea said, deciding to tell her news later.

“See you later, Thea,” Felicity said as the younger woman disappeared out the door. “Well, she took the Mia news well.”

“I cannot believe what just happened,” Oliver said suddenly.

Felicity turned to him. “What?”

“My sister walk in on us having sex.”

Felicity’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Oh, God, I am never going to live that down.”

“It doesn’t matter.” Oliver tugged back to him. “More importantly before Thea so inconveniently interrupted, you were so close and so was I.”

Oliver’s hand slipped beneath his shirt and realized she hadn’t put her underwear back on, he slipped two fingers insider her.

Felicity gasped, clinging onto his arms, her hips jerking to his thrusting fingers. “It’s not enough. I need more,”

“Good, so do I.” he walked her backward his mouth coaxing her mouth open, giving her a filthy kiss, that had her nipples tightening, brushing against the fabric of his shirt.

Oliver felt his dick throbbing, the brush of his sweats against his erection almost too much.

He ripped his mouth from hers and tugged his shirt over her head, leaving his wife completely naked.

Felicity barely had time to react before he was whirling her around his hand pressing against her back, bending her over the counter.

Her hands caught on the counter, steadying her as he nudged her legs apart.

“Oliver,” her voice was breathy, needy.

She knew what he was going to do and he wasn’t moving fast enough for her.

Oliver pushed his pants down, stepping out of them leaving them both naked, and stepped up behind her and bent over her pressing a kiss to her back. “It’s a good thing we have the whole day to ourselves because I plan on fucking you on every surface of our home and bending you over every desk, table, and counter.”

Felicity whimpered, his words had her sex clenching, needing to be filled.

She was so close to begging but then Oliver gripped her hips strongly as he pushed inside her without warning, filling her completely buried so deep inside her, she swore he hit her cervix.

“Fuck,” she threw her head back and Oliver latched onto her neck, sucking on her throbbing pulse, one hand sliding up to fondle her breast as he began to thrust shallowly, giving her a small taste of the power he carried in his hips.

She was so tight, her walls squeezing around him, sucking him in deeper and the sounds escaping her throat, the low groans urge him on, the instinct to drive into her faster, harder.

When she rested her elbows on the counter and pushed back against him, rolling her hips, his control snapped.

He grabbed her by the hips and started pounding into her the way he craved, yanking her back with every thrust.

Felicity cried out in pleasure her arms slipping, she scrambled for purchase on the counter, her hands holding tightly to the edge, her breast brushing the counter with every thrust.

She hung her head, allowing the pleasure to take over her as Oliver pushed deep inside her. God, it was so good.

“God, you’re perfect. So fucking perfect.” Oliver groaned, she fit him like she was made just for him.

“You’re just saying that-” a gasp spilled forth with a particularly hard thrust that had her closing her eyes. “Because you’re buried inside of me,”

Oliver bent his knees changing the angle of his thrust, somehow going deeper. “I say it because it’s true.” His hand left her hip, pressing his palm flat against her stomach, and sliding up over her breast to press against her collarbone, pushing her back into a standing position, his chest pressed against her back.

“Oh, God,” Felicity groaned, grabbing a hold of his arms, as he pushed deeper and deeper with every thrust hitting that spot inside her that had her seeing dots in her vision.

“God, Felicity,” he groaned as she clenched around him, convulsing, she was close. He could feel it as she trembled in his arms.

His other hand slipped down between her legs, finding that bundle of nerves, he rubbed at it with the pad of his thumb and that combined with his rough thrust had Felicity tumbling over the edge.

She cried out his name as her orgasm overtook her.

Oliver grunted as she came around him, her walls clamping down on his dick, and felt his own orgasm creeping upon him, his thrust became wild as he pushed as deep as he could.

The hand pressing against her collarbone, slid up gripping her chin, turning her head toward him.

Felicity’s eyes were half-lidded, drunk on pleasure. He pressed his mouth to hers, coaxing her mouth open he kissed her deeply. Giving one final deep thrust, he spilled himself inside her, groaning into her mouth.

After several long moments, Oliver broke the kiss, trailing down her jaw to her shoulder.

“I love you so much,” he murmured against her skin.

Felicity gasp as he withdrew from her and on shaky legs Felicity turned in his arms, and pressed her head against his chest, listening to his heart. “I love you more than should be humanly possible.”

Oliver smiled wrapping her up in his arms.

He didn’t care that they were naked. They were alone and he had his beautiful wife in his arms.

And today that was all that mattered.

A/N: I want to take a moment and thank everyone still reading my stuff. I appreciate it and love you all.

Tags: @miriamelle @skyeward-otp @bluassassin @candykizzes24 @iiexplosiveawesomeness @baker151910 @mariestark @darksister8 @1106angel @stolenxkissess @omglovechrissie @myhauntedblacksoul @enigmatica28 @jendiaz69 @bellabex13 @baker151910 @trueromantic1 @memcjo

[aka-indulgence]

Take Me by the Hand

So I wanted to post this on valentines (it’s not exactly valentine-themed, I just wanted to put something out hjdsk), but decided it was better to post now -w- this is a little fluff fic for @yeosin-n!! She has a really cool au called underwaves, and of course she makes just wonderful wonderful stuff and i love them all- and then its an undertale au!!!! in the ocean!!!!! ahdjkshd I kinda instantly fell in love with it... and UW Sans (Naut) as well, so uh!! Here’s a fluffy self-indulgent fanfic!!

Naut (UW!Sans)/Reader :D!!

"heheh, ya look like a big duck, darlin'."

  You try not to make a frustrated noise at him (lord knows he's already having WAY too much fun with you) and choose to simply mumble to yourself quietly as you take step by heavy step towards the innocently splashing waves, as if taunting your predicament.

  "I'd appreciate some help right about now, I could do without the remarks." You snap (softly) at him as you waddle your way over the sand, your heavy diving equipment jostling a little with every step.

  Naut had been helpful enough to put all the weight on you, and you wanted no more than to strangle the grin off the bastard's face.

  He's lucky you're dating him and love him too much to do that.

  Naut only chuckles for a bit, in your face, and you're about to throw your flippers at him when his laughs finally die down.

  "sorry, sorry," Naut lets a few more chuckles out as he wipes the "tears" away from his top set of eyesockets.

  You could swear you saw his lower eyelights turned into hearts for a second…

  "couldn't help myself. ya sure are a cutie," he says, and you would've made a sound of indignation if you didn't see the flowers happily popping into existence near the hole in his skull, floating down as if a slow waterfall was carrying it.

  You're the one with the happy little flowers, you want to tease, but at the same time, you didn’t want him to hide it. It was cute and pretty, you loved seeing him happy and relaxed.

  Without realizing what he's trying to do, Naut's already by your side, going behind your back. Before you could ask him what he's doing, you make a "hup-!?" Noise when he hoists your tank up.

  "better?"

  He was.. helping you carry your equipment.

  "Y-yeah!" You startle (you're not sure why, but the fact that he's actually helping you makes you feel.. sentimental).

  "ok then, let's keep going,"

  With the help of Naut, the journey to the water’s edge wasn’t as painful as it was when you started trudging down the sand, and you eventually got about chest-deep in the water.

  Naut let go of your tank, keeping you steady while you fit your dive boots into the open heel flippers. You fit your mask onto your face, and Naut starts drifting into deeper waters, now bobbing in the waves (how do skeletons float…? Of course he came from the ocean but… it’s like he has invisible floaties on!). He snrks a little. You make a face at him (well, as much of a face you could make with a mask covering half your face).

  “What?”

  “heheh… nothing. ya just… ya kinda look like a fish? with the goggles…” He makes two C-shapes with his phalanges, bringing them up to his sockets. “oh glowing waves above, i just wanna pinch you.”

  “H-hey! Stay focused!” you fluster, holding your hands out to him as if he was going to bite you. 

  Naut chuckles. “yeah, you’re right… i can always pinch ya later.” he teases, and before you could protest more, he gestures with his hand. “ok, check your second stage first, and let’s swim slowly…”

  You give the purge button of your second stage a couple of times, before attaching it to your mouth, floating towards your sea-lover. You release the air from your BCD, and Naut takes you by the hand, gently guiding you into the water.

  Everything feels different as soon as you are completely submerged, the sounds around you switching from air to water; your surroundings turning blue in an instant. For a few moments, you can only hear the sound of your breathing, the bubbles burbling around you.

  “you doing ok?” Naut’s voice snaps you out of your momentary awe, sounding practically as clear as he does outside the water. “don’t forget to equalize the pressure in your ears.”

  The sand slopes down, and you tilt your head this way and that, giving Naut the ok signal when you think you’re good.

  He’s dropped his teasing and playing around as he slowly brings you away from the surface; you vaguely feel like someone with a blindfold on while someone else’s pulling you somewhere to show you a surprise. He has to keep looking behind him to make sure he doesn’t run into corals or sharks or whatever.

  Your world completely changes around you- not that you’ve never seen ocean scapes before, but actually being in it to see it for yourself sure is a special experience. You see your first fish, catching your eye as it darts away from below you. The sandy bottom keeps going down, and down, and down….

  … Until eventually, you reach a spot where it stops, turning into a plain of sand.

  Naut sits down- just, sits down on the sand, and it's so weird how he just so casually sits, legs apart below you, underwater. He tugs you a bit, pointing to the sand.

  You descend, knees hitting the sand with a soft ‘pwsh’... your hands inadvertently fall onto Naut’s ribcage.

  You see all four of his eyelights looking down, then lighting up, and you have no idea if he can see you blushing underwater-

  But thankfully, Naut knows to set his priorities straight, and right now it’s making sure your diving goes smoothly and safely.

  “good?”

  For a second, seeing Naut completely at home in this environment, you nod your head without thinking- shaking your head before giving him the ok sign.

  His grin grows and he laughs.

  Damn. Even underwater he still sounds smooth as hell…

  “heheheh… ok, bubbles. let’s get started then, shall we?”

  After about a minute of buoyancy practice, Naut kicked off the sand with his slippers (how did they stay on his feet under- you know what? Maybe you shouldn’t question the physics of underwater monsters so much), letting you follow him in your own pace.

  Not too far from the water’s edge, corals started sprouting out from the sand, and no longer than that, more sea life appeared. A rainbow of fish were milling about, shrimp and crabs skitter over the ‘living rocks’, and a sea turtle lazily swims by.

  Naut easily backpedals towards it, and it circles around him.

  Your eyes are taking in the underwater scene all around you with splendor; if you could smile, you would. It was all just so pretty, and your boyfriend’s over there becoming some sort of disney princess, as a few cleaner fish swim towards his skull. You don’t need to hold in your laughter on account of the regulator in your mouth, but your metaphorical smile gets bigger as you watch the tiny striped fish look around his crack while he’s completely unaware… he looks like he’s about to say something when his eyelights go out, as one of them starts nibbling.

  He flaps his hand like he’s swatting a fly away, and maybe you’re being tortured right now because you just want to let out a raucous laugh, purposefully shoving it in his face.

  “oh, of course, you’re entertained.” Naut lids his sockets a little, feigning annoyance, though the cute little flowers only continue to flow out of his skull.

  You want to gesture a “sorry (not sorry)” at him, but without knowing sign language, the most you could do is open your hands for a hug. He’s been wonderfully non-teasing the whole way down, and you think he deserves some credit, especially showing you… all of this.

  You’re thinking about how thankful you are to have him with you when you see his eyelights dart somewhere else with his grin turning mischievous. He points to the turtle still swimming nearby and asks “hey, what kind of turtle do you think that green sea turtle is?”

  … What.

  You blink at him a couple of times, trying to convey your “what kind of question” emotion you’re feeling right now, knowing he’s smart enough to realize what he just said-

  “hahahah, i’m joking i’m joking, i know it’s Chelonia mydas. c’mon, i’m no loggerhead.”

  w-

  …

  Loggerhead. Loggerhead sea turtle.

  …

  You raise your fist at him, and you hope he could hear your internal screaming at him. Looking at the way his sockets crinkle and his grin practically stretching from non-existent ear to ear, you think he can.

The dive was relaxing and pleasant, with Naut completely in his element, giving you the reassurance that you’ll be alright with him. He brought you to different parts of the reef, highlighting some of the animals similarly as to how he addressed the sea turtle.

  He brought you swimming closer to the seafloor, showing you clownfish in their stinging friend-homes, and with a straight face he said, “keep your friends close,” he put a ‘friendly’ arm around the carnivorous invertebrate, “keep your anemones closer.”

  You swam away from him then, closer to whee the sand starts sloping again. You met a singular jellyfish there, to which Naut poked away from you- it could just fit in your palms. You watch with mild glee as he gently poked it around… you know it’s a living creature… but wow did you want to bounce it and play around with it like a toy. He moved it away from you and sent it bobbing in the direction of the open ocean, and he turned to you to say “are you jelly you didn’t get to play with it?”

  You wanted nothing more than to show him a flat face, if you were brave enough to take the regulator off your mouth. You followed him back towards the reef, swimming through a large school of fish that parted as you did.

  “how you feeling seastar? i’m feeling fin-tastic.”

  He turned around to gesture at the school. “aren’t they like living artwork? so beautiful. i like to consider myself sofishticated, you know.”

  You almost couldn’t focus on the reef around you as you were both delighted and desperately trying to hide it from him, that you’re enjoying a diving buddy/instructor that could talk to you as you dive.

  You swam leisurely ahead of him, looking for more “landmarks” (sea… marks…?) to look at before you run out of gas, when you heard a rush of water behind you.

  You almost let the regulator out of your mouth when you see a huge eel flapping about near you, with Naut holding its tail end and keeping it from coming at you. He reeled it in towards him, holding its head.

  “don’t know what got into this guy. maybe your fins surprised him.”

  He goes silent for a while.

  “but i guess thaaat’s a moray for you.”

  Old jokes!!! He’s too much!!!

  You wished you could’ve said something to him so you weren’t simply being subjected to his continuous puns, but at that point it looked like you might just get that; when you saw that your pressure gauge showed less than 100.

  Naut quickly looked to you when you made a wave at him, giving him a 9-0 signal, trying to convey an “up?” as best you can.

  “oh. oh yeah let’s get you up, bubbles.” He said as he swam towards you.

  It was like- he had a switch for professional diving instructor and ‘regular Naut’. He quietly guided your ascent, slowly and steadily, making a stop below the surface to decompress, before finally swimming all the way to the surface and inflating your BCD.

  “Blah!” you ungracefully spit the regulator out, letting it sink into the water and take the mask off your face. “My teeth always feel weird afterwards…”

  “cus’ you’re clenching it all the time.” he floats towards you, putting an arm around you. “how you feeling, gull friend?”

  You open your mouth, only to stop when you realized what he said- as if on time, a seagull keows above you.

  You give him your best attempt at a seething glare, but you take a breath and smile, putting an arm around him as well. “You know what? That was really nice. I haven’t had this much fun in a while. … or really, I didn’t do that much before I met you. I liked this, Naut. Thanks for taking me out here with you.”

  You watch with satisfaction as Naut’s lazy expression and smug-ass grin fade away, his main sockets becoming wide and a light blush colors his cheekbones.

  Ha, gottem.

  “o-oh. you- yeah. i… you're welcome. anything for you, seastar. i’m glad you liked it.” his eyelights shift away from you.

  “Yeah… though not gonna lie, you really were a sun of a beach down there. Punning when you know I can’t say anything to you- it was like, water you doing!”

  “ha, yeah i know, it was-” Naut paused. And then he turned to you, seeing how smug and proud you looked of yourself.

  You watched how his eyelights dilated in his sockets, sparkling like sun rays dancing in the water.

  “heh… heheheh….” he chortled, “oh… don’t be mad now… it’s not a good idea to get too tide down to your emotions.”

  “Well- high tide or low tide, I’ll be by your side.”

  “better make sure you weren’t pier-pressured into that.”

  “Nah. I’m a girl who just wants some sun with my bonefriend!”

  He was smiling like a downright lovable idiot right now, eyelights shining like the sun.

  “hhhhoooh my god, i want to kiss you.”

  You give him a smirk.

  “Oh! So you’re feeling… naut-y?”

  Your grin weakens a little when Naut stops grinning, and his eyelights shrinking back to their regular sizes, shimmering. For a moment you worry if you said something wrong somehow, but your worry was unfounded- just moments later you watch as cute little hearts start coming out of his skull, with four of his eyelights turning into the same shape.

  “i don’t know why kissing’s naut-y, but it’s in my name-ture to be.”

  You’re smiling just as wide as him, ignoring how far he had to reach to make that pun. He closes his eyes and you let him lean in towards you, meeting him in the middle. He wraps his arms around you and kisses you while you reciprocate happily; bobbing in the waves under the sun.

[the-sea-called-history02]

I Want to See My Little Boy

(Here He Comes)

(Song isn’t related to the content of the story, it just gives Hyunjin vibes to me. Don’t ask why. It just does.)

Hwang Hyunjin x gn!reader

Genre: Fluff with a good ol’ helping of angst (very sfw in my opinion)

Word Count: 1400

Warnings: fighting, cursing, frequent implications of mental health (depression, anxiety, panic attacks, low key reader has implied abandonment issues)

      You know those days where every damn thing that can go wrong does? Why did today have to be one of those days? It wasn’t your fault everyone tried to cut you off in traffic, but your boss still yelled at you for being late. It wasn’t your fault that some clumsy idiot knocked your coffee onto the report you had been working on for weeks, but your coworkers were still furious about it. It wasn’t your fault that the one person who could make it all go away, your boyfriend, Hwang Hyunjin, was on tour with his members halfway around the world and wouldn’t be coming home for another three days, but you couldn’t help but want nothing more than for him to hold you close and tell you it would be okay.

      Of course, it wasn’t in any way his fault either. He had been so excited when the tour had been announced, and you couldn’t help but crack a small smile while the memories of him excitedly bouncing around your apartment replayed in your mind.

      “I can’t wait to see all of Stay again! It’s been so long and I’m just so ready to get back on stage and I hope they like our new songs as much in concert as they did on the album and I’m so nervous that they won’t like my choreography, and…” he rambled on and on about all the things he was going to say and do in every city they visited, and watching your normally quiet, reserved boyfriend finally get to return to the job he loved so much filled your heart with absolute joy.

      “You’re coming with us, right, beautiful?” He had stopped running around and had grabbed you by the waist, the use of his favorite pet name for you sending butterflies straight to your stomach, “I mean, it’ll be a great time and we’ll finally get to travel together like we’ve always wanted to!” You wanted with your whole heart to say yes, but you knew your boss wouldn’t let you take two days off of work, much less the six months that the boys would be gone for.

      “Jinnie, I can’t. I wish I could, but I have to stay here or else I’ll risk losing my job.” You peeled your eyes away from his hopeful gaze and looked down at your feet. Both of you were wearing the matching fuzzy socks you had gotten for your one year anniversary last month.

      “What do you mean? You have to come! I need you there with me, and, besides, you hate that job. You can just come with us and find a new job when you get back.”

      “It’s not that easy, love. Trust me. I’ve been looking for a different job for months and nothing that could even remotely cover my half of the rent is available.” You could tell he was getting frustrated because his beaming smile had fallen from its place on his pretty lips. All he had wanted was to share his favorite thing with you, but your stupid job had gotten in the way again. Just like it had on his birthday and Christmas and New Year’s. He knew he shouldn’t be this mad, but he was sick of it stealing the precious moments that he had spent his whole life dreaming of sharing with the one he loved.

      “I’ve told you a million times that I’m happy to pay the full amount for rent, but fine. Stay here with your dead end job. You’d just ruin everything like you always do. I’d rather just spend the tour with the boys, anyway,” he spat, letting go of your waist and walking out of the living room and into your shared bedroom. You wanted to stop him, but you were so shocked at his words that you couldn’t have moved if you tried. He had always been so understanding of the fact that you were just doing the best you could to support him while also supporting yourself. Even if that meant that you had to miss out on a few important things to do so. Your once present smile quickly disappeared as the slightly painful memory concluded and faded off into the depths of your mind.

      You had, of course, made up before he left, and you knew he still loved you just as much as you loved him, but for some reason you were still terrified. The three days had passed like a summer storm, and here you were, nervously picking at the skin of your fingers until they bled, at the gate of the plane Hyunjin was on. Throngs of excited fans were cordoned off behind thin ropes as security separated you from them. Stay had always been super supportive of your relationship with Hyunjin, which you were beyond grateful for, but the company still didn’t want to take any chances because without you, there was no Hyunjin. Even so, here you were. Standing between several large men in suits and replaying idiotic “what if’s” in your head. What if he found someone else while he was on tour? What if he decided that you and your awful job were too much of a burden on him? What if he didn’t love you anymore?

      You were so wrapped up in your anxiety-fueled thoughts that you hardly noticed when the crowd started screaming, signaling the members’ return. You quickly snapped back into reality and straightened yourself. One by one, the boys walked out with their carry-ons, surrounded by guards who were dressed identically to the ones around you. They looked tired, but, more importantly, they looked happy. Every one of them had this glow about them as they sluggishly trudged down the ramp. A glow that only comes when someone does something they love and that makes them feel whole.

      Seven of the boys had met up at the base of the ramp, but none of them were your boy. The boy you loved so deeply, it hurt. It really hurt. Maybe that was why you were so nervous. Loving him hurt, but you knew that losing his light would plunge you into the darkest place imaginable and that wouldn’t just hurt. It would kill you. Or maybe you were just so excited to have your beloved boyfriend back, that it just felt like a panic attack. You honestly couldn’t tell, but still, you focused your eyes on the plane intensely. Just then, a tall, slender man appeared at the top of the gently sloping exit ramp and proceeded gracefully down towards his brothers.

      As he reached them, he began quickly looking around the airport lobby that they had been waiting in. You saw him ask Chan something and that Chris didn’t hesitate to point directly at the spot where you were standing, unconsciously fidgeting with your sleeves and tapping your feet. Hyunjin peeked around his leader and when his eyes met yours you could have sworn he had just seen an angel descending from the sky, the way his face lit up. He broke away from the group and started bolting towards you with the purest smile on his face. You started to panic in a different way as he approached you, seeing as he didn’t show signs of slowing down any, and you weren’t a particular fan of being trampled, but as he reached you, he picked you up and swung you around, pressing a passionate kiss to your lips.

      “I fucking missed you, beautiful,” he whispered in a voice so soft and gentle you wouldn’t have heard it unless you were the one whose lips were still softly touching his, which, thank God, you were.

      “I fucking missed you too, sweet boy,” tears threatening to spill over as you held him tightly in your arms. You realized then and there that there was no way that this man was going to just find someone else and leave you without warning. Too much love radiated from his entire being for that to ever be a possible scenario. You gratefully held him in your arms. Your little boy. Sure, he was bigger than you in pretty much every sense of the word, and there wasn’t a snowball’s chance that you were in charge in the bedroom (most of the time, but that’s a different story), but, when push comes to shove, he is, and always will be, your little boy, and you wouldn’t ever want it any other way.

Hey! So this is the first fic I’ve ever written, and I’m actually kind of proud of it. That said, if anyone has feedback, I would really appreciate it! Okay, love you!

[romanoffswifey]

Stupid Sexy Romanoff

Natasha Romanoff x Reader

Summary: Tony takes the avengers on a snowy retreat, where he finds out about your crush on Natasha. He and Clint convince you to do something a little bit stupid and it does not go according to plan. At least you get Natasha’s attention.

Contents/Warnings: Fluffy fluff, some dumbass energy from many people

Words: 1,539

AN - Yes, this was absolutely originally inspired by that one Simpsons scene and it would not let me rest until I had written it. Stupid sexy Flanders.

“Woah, Y/N, I didn’t know you could shred like that,” Tony says as you come skidding to a stop next to him and Clint on the alpine snow.

The billionaire had decided to take you all on a trip to a Swiss ski resort, in the name of relaxation and team bonding.

“There’s a dry ski slope about an hour away from the town I grew in, I haven’t been in a long while but I guess snowboarding is like riding a bike,” you offer. Plopping yourself down near Clint, who was currently sitting on Steve’s shield after he’d been using it as a sledge.

“Maybe now you’re here you can convince Stark to actually go down the mountain, instead of just standing here like a baby,” the archer points to the man’s skis, “you know they have instructors here to teach you how to use those things.”

Tony scoffs. “I don’t need any instructing, Barton. It can’t be that hard surely, I mean children can do it.”

“You could always ask our friendly god of hammers for some pointers,” you say, gesturing behind you as Thor shoots past, screaming with joy. The asgardian had turned out to be surprisingly good at the winter sport and was currently having the time of his life.

When the men next to you descend into bickering, you zone out. Letting your gaze wander until it lands on Natasha, who’s stood chatting with Steve further down the slope.

You’d had a crush on the redhead ever since you’d met her during the whole thing with Loki, but hadn’t said anything to her in fear of ending up looking like an idiot. 

Clint was the only one who knew and he’d been pretty useless at helping. Simply teasing you about it, as he’d decided to be an adult, for once, and respect Natasha’s privacy on the matter.

You sigh softly as you look at her now. She was beautiful, and kind of cute, with her little bobble hat and her googles on top of her head. The tips of her nose and ears slightly pink from the cold, and her flawless tresses only highlighted by the white around her.

As you follow the fall of her hair down to her outfit, you inhale sharply, coughing as the icy air hits the back of your throat.

The assassin was clad in a black and red ski suit, with a close enough fit that you could see the lines of her muscles. Along with a great view of her assets. It was safe to say that it left nothing to the imagination, and your imagination was certainly running wild right now.

Your little coughing fit had gained the attention of Tony and Clint. Making them pause their argument and follow your line of slight.

“Well, Romanoff certainly isn’t bothered by the cold. You’d think she’d want to wear something more comfortable since we’re out of the office,” says the billionaire.

“Actually it is comfy, and warm, and incredibly aerodynamic. She got it for this one mission where she had to go undercover as a prospect for the winter olympics,” Clint explains, “I tried it on once. It felt like I was wearing nothing at all.”

That comment did absolutely nothing to help your thoughts, in fact it only made them less PG then they already were. You’re pretty sure the heat coming from your face could turn the slope below you into a waterfall if you put your head close enough.

Unfortunately for you, your flustered state draws Tony’s questioning gaze from the archer to yourself.

“Erm, Y/N are you okay? You look kind of...wait a minute,” his eyes light up as he interrupts himself, “Oh. My. God. You totally have the hots for Romanoff don’t you?”

“Finally, someone noticed,” Clint happily exposes you.

“Barton, you little shit!” you exclaim in shock, repeatedly trying to jab him in the ribs.

“Oh this is great,” Tony laughs before starting to sing, “Y/N and Natasha sitting in a tre-”

“Shut it, Stark,” you hiss. Taking one of his ski poles and smacking him around the back of the legs, causing him to fall on his back in front of the pair of you with a small ‘oof’.

“Rude. But since you’re like the little sister I never had, I’ll elect to ignore it in favour of being the annoying brother right now. Does she know about the little heart eyes routine you got going on over here?” he asks with a raised eyebrow.

You roll your eyes. “Does it look like she’s even remotely interested in me?”

“I don’t know, have you tried asking her?”

“This is Natasha Romanoff we’re talking about here, you think I want to risk making a fool out of myself and ruining our friendship?” you sigh dejectedly and put your chin on top of your knees. “And don’t bother asking Clint about it, I already tried,” you add when you see Tony turn toward the man, who was suddenly very quiet.

The billionaire huffs when he notices his glare isn’t doing anything to crack the archer’s resolve. But when his eyes land on the ramps that sat on one half of the snowy incline, the gears in his head start to turn.

His smirk widens when Clint throws him an encouraging look, clearly thinking along the same lines.

“Hey Y/N, why don’t you do a cool trick or something?” Tony asks while nodding toward the ramps.

“What?” you ask in reply, “What makes you think I can even do a trick?”

“Well, it can’t be that hard. I’ve seen you do loads of complicated acrobatics in training, and what about that time you flipped your motorbike over that bridge?”

“I’m sure Nat would be impressed if you did it,” Clint murmurs, trying to be subtle while eating some snow.

You cut your eyes at them both, wondering what they were up to.

“Fine,” you say. Pulling yourself up and setting off down the hill after thinking about it, it would be pretty cool if you did manage to pull it off.

Once you hit one of the bigger ramps, you lock eyes with Natasha, and your whole mind goes blank. You can’t stop staring and you’re quickly reminded of all those thoughts you’d just had. Which was not ideal, considering you had just launched yourself about 20 feet in the air. 

Shit.

Instead of doing some epic flip in the air, you just sail through it and start plummeting to the earth. But lucky for you, you’re an avenger. You’re also heading for a nice pile of snow.

Snow is surprisingly hard, and you groan as you lay buried there, regretting many of your life choices. Not only had you eaten complete shit, you had done it in front of your long time crush. This was the worst trip you had ever been on.

“Leave me to my shame,” you whine as you feel someone undoing your boots from your snowboard before pulling you out by your leg.

Your embarrassment only grows as you look up into green eyes that are filled with worry.

“Are you alright, Y/N?” Natasha asks. Checking you over for any sign of blood or broken bones.

“Yeah, I’m fine,” you say, not quite meeting her eyes.

“You gonna explain what that was about then?” she asks with a hint of amusement as she helps you up.

You smile sheepishly and admit, “I was trying to show off.”

“Why?”

Being this close to her now, with her hands still lightly clasping yours and an adorable little frown on her face, you can’t find it in you to lie.

“I was trying to impress you. I really like you Natasha,” you confess quietly.

Her face slackens at your words, and you can feel your stomach sink. You gentle pull your hands from hers, letting out a long breath as you look down. Waiting for whatever her reaction might be.

To your surprise, a gloved hand comes up and cups your jaw. Tilting your head back up before a pair of soft lips land on your own.

You relax into the kiss as she holds you there. Blinking slowly when she pulls back with a sigh.

“I like you too, Y/N,” she says shyly. A smile tugging at her mouth and her face just a bit redder than it was before.

“How come you never said anything?” you ask, still not quite believing this was actually happening.

“I’m not really the best when it come to this whole feelings thing, so I wanted to makes sure that you might have felt the same about me before I did anything,” she trails off.

“Oh.”

The redhead hums. “And for the record you don’t have to impress me. I’ve seen what you can do, it’s pretty badass,” she says with a wink, before holding out her hand. “Now come on, I’ll get you a hot chocolate. Think of it as our first date.”

You can’t help the grin that breaks out onto your face as you take Natasha’s hand and let her drag you back up the mountain. 

Maybe this trip wasn’t so bad after all.

[peterparkers-bad-youtube-apology]

Overtime

Into the Rush - Chapter 1

Pairing: Snowboarder!Tom x Reader

A/N: Alrighty babes, here is chapter 1, I hope you all like it, as always feedback is appreciated and let me know if you want to be added to the series taglist, love u xx

Summary: Tom wants you to pick up an extra shift working at his competition 

Masterlist

Series Masterlist

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Tom ran a hand through his hair, attempting to tame some of his more unruly curls before he went to lunch. It was a nearly impossible task after spending all morning on the slopes. Once he finally got his hair to an acceptable state he moved to his clothes.

Harrison scoffed behind him, “I think she already knows what you look like.”

“Shut up,” he shoved glanced at his phone and groaned, “I’m gonna be fucking late, shit.”

Harrison sighed, “Just go, I’ll put your stuff up.”

Tom blushed, “Haz you don’t have to.”

“Don’t be a div,” he insisted, shoving him towards the door, “Just go.”

“Thanks Haz!” he called before he dashed out of the locker room, shoving his way through the crowd in an attempt to reach the other side of the resort before 1:30. He came skidding to a halt at her desk, breathing a bit heavy as he leaned on the desk in front of him, “You ready to go darling?”

She raised a brow at him, “Did you run here?”

He nodded, “Yeah, I didn’t want to be late for our date.”

“It’s not a date, you just won’t leave me alone,” she corrected, plucking her things off her desk so they could leave, “How was practice?”

“Oh lovely,” he beamed, “How was work?”

“Fine, a little slow I guess,” she hummed, “You have some sort of competition this weekend right?”

He nodded, “Yeah, how’d you know? Are you asking around about me love?”

“No, one of the girls told me about it, she said we get overtime if we work it,” she tossed her lunch bag onto their usual table.

“You should do it, it’d give you a chance to see how good I look on the slopes,” he teased.

“I’d be working, not watching the actual competition.”

“Well not the whole time,” he explained, “When you guys work the competition you’re up with us, they have you check everyone in and hand out numbers, stuff like that. There’s always plenty of time to watch.”

“So I get overtime and all I have to do is pass out numbers and write some stuff down?” she raised a brow suspiciously.

He nodded, “Yeah, I mean I don’t know the exact details of it all, but they usually just kind of hang around with us, so I don’t think they have that much to do.”

“Maybe I’ll do it then,” she hummed as she pulled a container from her lunchbox, “You guys must be training really hard this week then.”

“Some are, but it’s not a major competition for me, it’s more just practice for some bigger stuff I’ve got coming up,” he peaked at the container she was opening with a smile, “You should come, it’ll be fun.”

“I don’t know about fun, but it seems like it’d be easy extra money.”

“Of course it’ll be fun,” he promised, “I’ll be there after all.”

“I’ll have to think about it, I don’t know if I want to give up my weekend off,” she pulled a cupcake from the container in front of her.

“Did you make those?”

She nodded, “Yep, and this one's for you,” she picked another cupcake up and placed it in front of him, “They’re just vanilla but they’ve got a strawberry filling. You have to tell me how it is.”

“Well everything you make is great sweetheart so I’m sure it’s good,” he hummed as he bit into it, “It’s absolutely delightful darling.”

Her eyes lit up at the compliment, “Is the filling okay?”

“It’s perfect darling,” he promised before taking another bite, “Delicious.”

“Thanks,” she smiled, “I think they could look a little prettier but that’s okay.”

“I think they’re adorable,” he smiled back, “Just like their mother.”

She stared at him for a minute, seemingly at a loss for words, “I think that was the single worst attempt at flirting I’ve ever heard in my life.”

Tom laughed, “That was not that bad, I called you cute!”

“You called me the mother of a cupcake,” she laughed with him,, “It was bad Tom, really bad.”

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆　　 ｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

Tom glanced at his watch with a frown, “She should only be a minute, she’s off at 4.”

“Okay well you can keep waiting in the cold, I’m getting in the car,” Harrison scoffed as he threw his bag over his shoulder, “I’m leaving in ten minutes.”

“Yeah, yeah, I won’t be long, I just wanna walk her out.”

Harrison rolled his eyes, “Alright, but I really don’t think walking her to her car is going to make her like you anymore.”

“I know, I just want to alright? I won’t be more than a few minutes,” he glanced towards the door with a frown.

“Alright, don’t get grouchy buddy, you can see your crush before we go home,” he squeezed his shoulder with a smile, “But you’ve got to eat some veg with dinner tonight.”

“Oh fuck off Harrison,” Tom shoved him while her burst into laughter, “Go start the bloody car, I’m going to get her,” he stomped inside while Harrison continued to laugh at him.

He kicked some snow off his boots at the door and went straight for her desk to see what the hold up was. He found her caught up in conversation with one of her coworkers, and he just couldn’t resist butting in when he heard her happy giggles.

“Ladies,” he smiled to them, “I was wondering where you were.”

“I’m just getting ready to leave. Did you need something?” (y/n) smiled at him.

“I just figured you’d be off soon, I thought we could walk out together,” he shrugged.

“Oh, yeah, sure,” she began packing up her things with a smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow,” she waved to her coworker before joining Tom.

“How was the rest of your shift?” he questioned.

“It was fine. How was the rest of your practice?”

“Great,” he beamed, “You know I was thinking, you really should come out for the competition.”

“Yeah, I talked to my boss and it’s like 8 hours of overtime, it’s a little too good to pass up. Even if I have to deal with you for most of that time.”

“You love dealing with me darling,” he smiled confidently, “I know you do.”

“In your dreams Holland,” she crossed her arms, shivering as they stepped outside, “You don’t do it for me.”

“Oh really?” he raised a brow, “Then who does do it  for you darling? I’m dying to know.”

“Really insecure, shy, soft spoken, timid, non flirty surfers.”

He rolled his eyes, “Oh come on now love, be serious.”

She hummed, mulling it over for a minute, “I don’t know, I like guys who are funny, and upfront, I don’t want to be played with.”

“I’m sure you’d like it if I played with you,” his lips pulled to a smirk.

“Tom!” she laughed, hitting his chest lightly, “You’re disgusting.”

“I’m adorable, and hilarious,” he laughed, “And upfront, you must be crazy about me.”

“Hardly,” she stopped in front of her car, leaning back on the door with a smile, “This is my stop, thank you for walking me.”

“Anytime love,” he winked, “I’ll see you in the morning then?”

She sighed dramatically and nodded, “You know you will.”

“Looking forward to it.”

next chapter

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[watermelonlipstick]

Dreams, Chapter 5

If you haven’t read this series before, you might want to start on Chapter 1, or check out the Dreams Masterlist! Here’s the series description:

When Dean dies for good leaving Sam and his girlfriend (the reader) behind, they must figure out how to carry on without him. Alone, reeling, and unsure what to do next, trying to honor Dean’s memory and follow their hearts gets even more complicated when their nightmares become dreams that feel a little too real.

GET. READY. This is a bigger chunk but I really think it’s worth it. 

Title: Dreams, Chapter 5

Pairing: (past) Dean Winchester x Reader, (eventual) Sam Winchester x Reader

Word Count: 5343

Summary: Dean’s birthday proves easier than expected in some ways and harder in others. 

Warnings: angst, fluff, swearing, alcohol, s l o w  b u r n

           Sam pulled back from you, opening one eye drowsily. “Are you okay?” he says, voice gritty with sleep.

           “Yeah, I…he didn’t die,” you breathed, confused.

           He cleared his throat. “What?”

           “He always dies. He fell off of Bobby’s roof, but he just broke his ankle, he, he didn’t die.”

           Sam rubbed his face with his free arm, trying to wake up more in earnest. It was still dark, so it couldn’t have been later than 7:30. You hadn’t been asleep for more than a few hours but suddenly felt beyond alert. “That’s good, right?”

           “I—yeah, it’s good. Sorry, didn’t mean to wake you up.”

           “Do you want to talk about it?”

           The reflex was to say no, usher Sam back to sleep. But your reflexes had already been wrong once today. “Can we?”

           The way Sam kept the surprise off his face was admirable. It was the first time you’d agreed to talk about the nightmares that plagued you since losing Dean. He propped himself up on his elbows and flicked on the small lamp beside the bed. “What happened?”

           You told Sam all about the dream, sparing only the details you couldn’t really remember or only made dream-sense, like the way you knew it was 4th of July weekend without having been told. He listened thoughtfully, the focus obvious in his expression. He waited a long beat when you were done, sure not to step on your moment of vulnerability.

           “What do you think it means?” he asked gently.

           You thunked back onto your pillow to gaze up at the popcorn ceiling. “I don’t care, to be honest.” The almost-dark made fuzzy static pulse in your vision. “I think I’m going to write about it, actually,” you said, and startled yourself.

           “Oh, uh, okay,” Sam said encouragingly. “Do you want me to—” he asked, pointing a thumb over his shoulder.

           “No, no. I’ll be back in a little bit, see if you can go back to sleep.”

           Sam nodded with more than a little concern and you climbed over him, yanking an old sweatshirt out to throw over your wilted tee and scampering off to the kitchen table.

           The house was ice cold and dark aside from the ever-present Christmas lights and you could feel the needles that had begun to drop from the tree under your bare feet, rapidly cooling on the cheap flooring. You picked up the notebook and pens Sam had gotten you and sat down at the kitchen counter to write.

           In the days that followed, the constant and varied nightmares of Dean’s deaths returned. When you woke up, more and more often making it to the morning, you kept writing to Dean about them and sometimes your day as a way of processing. You never ‘told him’ about exactly what happened and tried to focus on the sweet things you remembered that made the worst dreams a tease, moving them to your daytime memory and trying to wash away the despair the nightmares left you clawing through.

            By the middle of January, you and Sam had fallen mostly back into old patterns. The Christmas lights were still up, a sort of night light against the long Midwestern nights, and you couldn’t help feeling a small sense of despair sweeping up loose pine needles when Sam was in the shower every day. You didn’t want the winter to end, as weird as that sounded with the ice and chill and fingertips that never warmed all the way. It felt like if you moved into spring that you were leaving the time-out that you’d created and would have to figure out a longer-term solution than this rented cabin, all thin drywall and poorly insulated ceilings. Even your jobs didn’t feel permanent, the summer vacationers sure to come back and reclaim their spots in the town as it came back to life with the plants.

           The ‘mostly’ was that the boundary you broke with Sam never truly came uncrossed. When you were washing dishes he would come stand behind you, the heat of his lips seeping into the shoulder of your old sweatshirts. You’d intertwine your fingers with his while he drove, realizing only when you went to open the car door and found yourself tangled, or running your hands through his hair while he read next to you on the sofa. You never met Sam’s eyes in these moments—somehow it felt like a secret, private thing that would collapse into dust if gazed upon, some sweet, small creature you were protecting. Neither one of you talked about it in the time since that tequila-soaked night.

           As much as you’d needed to be close to him before, you began craving Sam in a way that scared you. You’d always found him beautiful in the way you admire someone you love, but you caught yourself taking notice of the pillars of muscles along his back when he broke down stock boxes and the dark swoop of his eyelashes. The comments about how lucky you were to have him that used to make you nervous your cover was about to be blown started to make you ache a little with fear and something you couldn’t place. You felt a bizarre flick of jealousy when some twenty somethings drinking White Claw dragged their eyes over him at the bar before leaving on their snowmobiles, like he really was yours to claim. It seemed like a manifestation of your fierce attachment and unresolved grief not only for Dean but your old life with the Winchesters, when they sort of were: your teammates and no one else’s. You resolved it had to be and explained it away without inspection, even when these ‘isolated’ moments became less and less isolated.

           Before you knew it, you were hurtling toward Dean’s birthday.

           “What should we do on Sunday?” you asked early on a Thursday afternoon, trying to keep your voice light and easy while you and Sam got ready for your last day of work for the week.

           “I don’t, uh, I don’t know.”

           “Did you guys ever do anything when you were little?”

           “I mean, not really. Sometimes like a cake or whatever I guess, but Dean was always better at that stuff. By the time we were in our 20s, he only wanted to go meet girls and play up the ‘kiss for the birthday boy’ schtick.” Sam grinned sheepishly as though you didn’t know who Dean had been.

           You couldn’t help but smile, remembering the cocksure half-boy you’d met all those years ago. “Okay, well, if you didn’t have anything in mind, I have a couple ideas.”

           “Oh, yeah, I had only really come up with a cherry pie and a bottle of whiskey.”

           You stood up from the kitchen table and grabbed Sam’s empty plate, leaning into his drying hair for long enough to inhale the minty earthiness of his shampoo. “I mean, that’s a given.”

           In Sunday’s late morning you slipped out of the house while Sam was in the shower, leaving a note behind that said you’d be back in a few minutes. You careened down the road to the quaint main street, running through the list in your head. The grocery store was first for the only bottle of scotch they kept in a tiny plastic container and the fixings for bacon cheeseburgers, then the coffee shop had a cherry pie that looked better to you than whatever pseudo-Entemann’s they had in the limited grocery bakery section. The hardware store had everything else you needed and some extras; you praised the cold climate necessity of having multiple places in town to get gloves and thick woolen socks as you threw a couple on the checkout with the rest of the haul. It was awkward to get everything in the trunk, and you were thankful in this moment that you weren’t trying to drive the little sedan you’d had years ago when it was just you, even as annoying as it was to park the Impala sometimes.

           Back at the cabin Sam was solemnly cleaning up, his eyes red as he wrung out a mop. You took the pie and whiskey out of the bag and put the other groceries away without removing your coat. In truth you only took off the boots you were wearing as a concession to Sam’s mopping, feeling itchy to get back outside and let the complexity of your emotions explode into fresh air unencumbered.

           You tossed a pair of new woolen socks to Sam, who caught them against his chest. “You’re going to want these.”

           “What? Where are we going?”

           “Somewhere I think Dean would’ve liked. Put on some layers, too.”

           Sam obeyed with a crooked eyebrow, coming out of the bedroom a few minutes later looking like a lumberjack catalogue model. You didn’t say anything when you realized the hoodie he was wearing used to be his brother’s.

           “Ready?”

           “I’m not sure, I don’t know where we’re going,” Sam answered honestly.

           You gestured toward the door and he followed you out to the car. Thankfully it had snowed that morning, and tiny billows of powdery snowflakes blew up around each car that you passed on the way.

           The hill was massive. It was a little surprising considering the flatness of the majority of the Midwest, and you’d had to remind yourself that there were some small skiing outfits in the upper half of the state when you’d found it, sure that it was a garbage dump that had been covered lazily in grass seed and left to its own devices. Less impressive surrounding slopes reassured you when you’d scoped it out a few days earlier, and the fresh glittering snow made it look even more spectacular now than you’d remembered. You decided not to push it taking the Impala onto the snow, instead parking at the dead-end you thought was closest.

           “We’re here?” Sam asked, obviously still confused.

           “Yep. Come on,” you said, enjoying the surprise more than you’d thought you would.

           Popping the trunk made it obvious when the bright plastic sleds were wedged in alongside the miscellaneous weapons whose permanent home it was. You watched Sam’s face as recognition dawned, closely followed by a smirk you knew was in large part to humor you. Yanking them out in one big pull, you handed Sam the green one and one of the pair of gloves you’d gotten that morning.

           “These are huge, where did you even find them?” he chuckled, popping the plastic tie between the gloves and sliding his hands into them.

           “You’re huge, it’s not like I can put you on a kid’s one. Besides they must be pretty serious about their sledding up here, these were just from the hardware store.”

           Sam shook his head and waited for you to put your gloves on. They were comically big on you, but you knew you’d regret not wearing any and tried your best to grip the sides of the plastic sled through them as you took off toward the hill. After a few steps, Sam took the sled from you without a word, able to hold it easily with both his well-fitting gloves and the many extra inches between his arms and the ground.

           The walk up the hill was somewhat of a trudge but the way the crisp air sliced through your lungs was a welcome distraction. Snow dampened the ambient noise so all you could hear was Sam’s rhythmic breathing like a mantra, and with one foot in front of the other, by the time you got to the top you felt like you’d been meditating. The view was amazing from the top, a painting or old illustration with its tiny homes and cottages over meandering fields, the snow washing everything out as if you were watching someone else’s dream.

           “Should we race?” Sam asked, the swirled pigment of his irises lit up by the reflection off the snow.

           The next thing you heard was Sam’s laugh behind you as you took a few big strides and jumped onto the sled. Careening down the hill, your hair snapped around, tiny whips cracking into your wind-tenderized cheeks as you tried in vain to steer the sled in slices across the straight pass. Sam’s cackle was distant but comforting over your shoulder. You closed your eyes to feel the speed underneath you and the wind across your face; listen to that laugh that you’d heard so little recently, an old favorite song to be put on repeat. On January 24th of all days it felt like you were being baptized in the clear crystal sound of it.

           When you came to a stop, Sam was only a half second behind you. You fell over in a fit of giggles listening to him play-whine about cheating and “Totally not fair, after I carry your sled all the way up for you!”

           “I’ll beat you again with no head start! Unless you’re chicken,” you taunted, brushing snow off your legs to start back up the hill again. Sam scrambled to his feet, passing you up quickly with his huge strides as you started to run after him. Gasping with laughter and exertion, you and Sam half-wrestled and chased each other to the top, collapsing to your backs like snow angels. After catching your breath, you propped yourself up on your elbows to look over at him.

           “Rematch?”

           Sam’s smile, all straight pearl teeth and cold-flushed cheeks, was as breathtaking as the icy wind as you tore down the run, this time on your stomach with your head low like a bullet, trying in earnest to win again. The front lip of the sled in your fingertips rumbled against little imperfections in the snow. You glanced to check how much of a lead you had on Sam and had barely turned your head before you realized you were also dipping your shoulder, tilting the sled on its greased-lightning path and therefore you with it. Sam was right on your tail and narrowly missed crushing you when you fell off the sled by bailing out of his, your legs tangling together with misplaced velocity. You tried to hold still so you wouldn’t catch his face with a flailing limb, only moving after a beat when it seemed like the collision was over. Sam’s fall seemed to have been more graceful than yours, as he still had a hand on his sled and only a left arm and hair full of snow that he shook loose like a puppy.

           “Are you okay?” he said, getting to his knees to reach out to you.

           You could feel the scrape on your cheek before you got up, but Sam’s wince was only minor when he saw it which was reassuring. He snatched off his glove and brushed snow off your face gently, barely grazing the broken skin. The warmth felt so nice and you would’ve curled up in his palm like Thumbelina if you could. “What’s the damage?” you asked, trying to think about the way your breath puffed up in clouds around you rather than the snowflakes caught in Sam’s eyelashes.

           He was analytical as he took it in, tilting your head carefully in the light. “Doesn’t look too bad. Does it hurt?”

           “Nah. Did you think I’d get soft that fast? I used to get stabbed like once a month.”

           Sam chuckled. “Yeah, I guess you’re right. Do you want to go home?”

           It didn’t feel as odd as it should’ve, knowing exactly what home meant in this context. “And let you think I only won by cheating? Fat chance!”

           “You don’t even have a sled anymore!”

           You glanced around you and saw your sled sitting smugly an easy 30 yards past the base of the hill. “Gimme a ride?”

           It was a little awkward until Sam sat down on the sled with each heel straddled and digging into the snow, allowing you to crawl between his legs without unintentionally sliding down the rest of the slope. He seemed unsure of himself as he wrapped his arms around your torso, and you hooked your hands around each of his legs to do your part to hang onto him. “Ready?” he asked, his breath warm on your neck.

           When you nodded, he unstuck his heels and you shot like a racehorse down the hill. Sam’s chest was solid as a rock behind you, cushioned with his layers and fastened with his seatbelt arms. You could feel the muscles in his legs moving against your hands, trying to balance the weight of the two of you on the flimsy material. Despite your fall only moments ago, it was safe in a way you hadn’t felt in a long time. The ride came to a stop only a few steps away from your cast off sled.

           You turned into Sam to get to your knees before standing up and slipped on a wet patch on the plastic, the melted snow turning the surface impossibly slick. It made you fall forward into Sam, his seated position not giving him enough stability to stay on balance—the sled shifted back underneath the both of you and brushed your lips across his as you ended up with your scraped cheek against the rough canvas of his jacket.

           “I—oh my god I’m sorry,” you stammered, springing back gracelessly.

           Sam looked somewhat like a little kid or a doll, sitting wide eyed with his legs still spread out around you. You stayed back on your knees feeling like you should move slowly, that maybe you could back away unscathed yet. Sam reached his hands out and you thought it was okay, he understood you wouldn’t cross yet another line with him, that it was a simple mistake and he was going to move past it or ask for your help up, and then his heavily gloved hand slid into your hair and he was leaning toward you, the breath that had felt so comforting on the back of your neck as you flew down the hill now on your bottom lip. Your needle-sharp inhale drew that air from him, and you started to feel dizzy. He waited for a moment, searching between your eyes for you to pull back, to turn it into a joke, but you couldn’t. Something in the light pressure of his hand was an anchor and you found yourself glancing at Sam’s lips and slowly, agonizingly, Sam closed the distance between you.

           His lips were so soft and gentle that it made you feel like you were going to cry and then you were crying, just one hot salty tear that stung the fresh abrasion on your cheek as you moved against him, this foreign and scary part of the person you knew the best on this earth. Somehow kissing Sam was exactly how you would’ve guessed it would be—tender and sweet and reverent. The sound dampening of the snow amplified your other senses: the feeling of the cheap Gore-Tex catching one or two hairs as Sam supported your weight, the small brush of Sam’s breath through his nose, the tight flick of the wind against your coats. It was over as quickly as it started, leaving you and Sam staring at each other bewildered while your hair tangled around you.

           You could feel that your eyes were as wide as Sam’s. Completely unable to formulate a thought or feeling, much less something to say, you silently extricated yourself from the sled. Sam did too, staring at it like it was some complicated spell, even turning away from you as you crossed over to your own store-bought chariot. You could read his tension even in his back, the tight stretch of his shoulders as he clutched at the scruff of his neck, and just wanted to make it better.

           “Okay, rematch for real this time? I would say I won’t fall again but, no promises.”

           Sam looked scared when he turned back to you, his voice gruff when he choked out a halfhearted, “yeah, sure” and followed you up the hill. He was far enough behind you that you couldn’t hear his breathing anymore and it took him a little bit to reach you at the peak. His body seemed like it was cracking around him, aging in moments as he shakily got into his sled beside yours. You wanted so badly to tell him it’s okay, it’s just some dumb mistake, we were just goofing off but you knew it wasn’t true and you didn’t want to lie.

           The only thing you could fix your mouth to say was, “Count us down so you can’t say I’m cheating again,” and hope he heard the apology and forgiveness in it.

           Sam obeyed dutifully and you kicked off down the hill, trying to use the speed you gathered and the clarity in the way it split open your lungs to try to understand what had just happened. The same trip that had felt like glorious ages before was over in a second and you were up out of your sled before you remembered you were supposed to be measuring whether you or Sam had gotten down faster.

           “Tie, we’re going again!” you yelled over your shoulder as you did your best to bound through the deep snow up the side of the hill, not waiting to see if he was following you.

           Once again at the top, ragged and out of breath and only a few steps ahead of him, you took a second to collect yourself before putting your sled back in the snow and holding it in place with one foot.

           “I’m sor—” Sam started before you cut him off.

           “Okay, third time’s the charm!” you said with panicked cheerfulness that you knew instantly was too much, but Sam stopped talking and dejectedly sat on his sled next to you.

           You and Sam spent probably an hour more sledding, your legs turning to jello underneath you as you ran up the hill over and over again and your cheeks getting more and more wind chapped, before Sam finally smiled, exasperated at some joke about still beating him up the hill with legs that were half as long. It was all the fuel you needed to keep chipping away at him until the sun started dropping and the chill broke through all your layers.

           The two of you plodded through the snow back to the car together. Gloves and sleds in the trunk, you flopped into the passenger seat with that sudden too-hot feeling of getting out of the wind and tore at your coat to desperately strip some layers. Sam threw his own jacket in the back. Without giving him a chance to protest or hook up his phone, you turned on the tape deck and Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were Here pounded out like rocky silk.

           “You’ve gotta be fucking kidding me,” you murmured. You looked over at Sam, who burst into a kind of frantic laughter that you completely understood. You couldn’t stop yourself from laughing either, because of course this was playing during the tense peace on Dean’s birthday in Dean’s car, and then you and Sam were cry-laughing in the rapidly humidifying air of the Impala while Syd Barrett waxed poetic. By the time the second chunks of Shine On You Crazy Diamond started, you were gasping for air and clutching at your sides.

           You drove home after that in relative silence, the fatigue of fresh air and running all afternoon catching up with you. Sam took a shower while you put together burgers, switching spots with you to cook them while you washed up. They were pretty good due in large part to how seriously Wisconsinites take their cheese, bacon, and beef, and you wolfed yours long before your hair had stopped dripping onto the collar of the threadbare sweatshirt you’d changed into.

           The first shot of scotch burned like it always did, offsetting the sweet tang of the cherry pie and reminding you of the way Dean used to taste when you kissed him at the end of a long night. You looked out the window at the last purple glow of the sunset as it turned the evening into deep, endless inky blue.

           “I’ve gotta—I’m so sorry,” Sam spat out like the words were beating their way out of his mouth.

           “You don’t have to be sorry,” you murmured, unable to immediately meet his gaze and looking down at your pie.

           “I just—I can’t—I don’t know what the fuck is going on,” he stammered.

           You couldn’t help but smile at the absurdity of the whole thing. “Join the club.”

           Sam smirked but it was mirthless. “No, I know, but it’s just…I don’t know. I’m sorry.” He stabbed a deflated cherry with pursed lips, and you watched his Adam’s apple bob in his throat. The fork clattered to his plate. “It’s not getting any easier. Every day I wake up and I’m so mad. It’s so fucking unfair that I have to stay here without him because I know that’s what he fucking wanted, and I feel like there’s no point in trying to have anything like good or normal because I’m just running out the clock. And then today’s Dean’s fucking birthday and I kiss his girlfriend—what is wrong with me?”

           The outburst hung in the air, a toxic smoke that excluded everything else. You slammed the rest of your glass of scotch, relishing the way it scalded. “So I’m just Dean’s girlfriend?”

           “No, that’s not what I—I mean I guess—it’s not like you aren’t—I don’t know, it just seems like you’ll always be his girlfriend.”

           “Are you still Jess’s boyfriend?”

           It was the absolute most cruel and wrong thing to say and you regretted the words as soon as they left your tongue and crashed into Sam, not even really knowing why you’d thought them. They distorted his face in incredulity and betrayal but you didn’t back down, maintaining eye contact until he snatched the bottle and refilled both glasses. When he spoke again his voice was gravelly and broken.

           “I guess I deserved that.”

           “Sam, this is fucking weird. It always has been, us being alive without Dean, and if you’re just now getting that then you’re not as smart as I thought you were. I don’t—I don’t really know what’s going on either, but I know that you’re the only thing that’s keeping me from ending up with a bullet in my skull or in a locked ward, so if you’re waiting for me to forgive you for something, for anything you’ve ever said or done, it’s already forgiven. But we’re too tied up together for every tiny redrawing of the boundaries to send us over the edge. Please.”

           “Tiny redrawing of boundaries? I kissed you!”

           “And I kissed you back, Sam! What do you want to do about it? What’s the absolution here? If you want to leave, I’m not going to stop you. Take the Impala and I’ll find some other car, I’ll borrow the Kaisers’ other one or something. Or maybe you want me to go and I’ll go; I’ll do anything you want me to. I’ll leave right now, you never have to see me again if that’s what you want but I know Dean loved you and loved me and I don’t think he would’ve wanted you to torture yourself all the time so what is it that you want?”

           “I want us to be fucking normal and I don’t want to feel like I’m cheating with my brother’s girlfriend! I don’t want to have a cover story and I don’t want to keep running away!”

           “Then fucking stop! Stop feeling guilty and talk to me about this stuff!”

           Sam laughed, hard and bitter and choked off.

           “I’m serious. We can’t keep doing this shit, at least I can’t. We need to start talking—about Dean, about everything. It’s like this lump of decay and we’re just spraying Febreze and not dealing with it.”

           Sam’s mouth popped open as he tongued his molars. He bit his lip in frustration before crumpling up his napkin and threw it on top of his half-eaten pie. “Okay. Let’s talk.”

           You weren’t expecting that. For all the ways it had seemed like Dean had been the more emotionally closed off, he was always much easier for you to read than Sam, who managed somehow to talk about things without actually communicating how he felt. It was good if you needed to be supported but made it extremely hard to be there for him. Refilling your glasses a bit more conservatively, you offered up an open palm to let Sam go first. His jaw tensed and he swallowed hard.

           “No bullshit?” he asked.

           “No bullshit. What’s the point of bullshitting anymore? After everything?”

-

Continue to Dreams, Chapter 6

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[willowbird]

Congrats!! If you want, how about the first time Ronan sleeps over at St. Agnes? Like the pining!!

Yay! I was SO EXCITED to get a Ronan/Adam ask!! I may have gone a little overboard with the pining, but I hope you still like it <3 <3 This is actually my first Pynch ficlet! I hope you like it! Lemme know if you think I should post it on AO3 ^^; Since it’s my first time actually writing them and I haven’t read the books as many times as I’ve read AFTG I hope it’s okay!

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Ronan bounced the rubber ball against the sloped ceiling from where he lay on Adam’s bed, waiting for the other boy to get out of the shower. He’d been out, just driving around with no discernable purpose or direction, when it came around that time for Parrish to get out of work so he’d swung by and picked him up. There’d been no reason to say no when Adam had asked if he wanted to come up for a while. After all, he and Adam were friends -- no matter how much they seemed to bicker -- and Ronan liked being at St. Agnes. Sometimes, it was honestly more satisfying to be there than it was to be at Monmouth. Nothing beat being at the Barnes, but still -- St. Agness had a particular energy, it always had. 

After all, Ronan Lynch was no stranger to St. Agnes. The hours he’d spent in the quiet pews could stack together to build a universe apart from the rest of the world, a separate realm that even the horrors inside his own mind couldn’t touch. And yet, since Adam came to live there, the hallowed halls of that familiar place had developed a completely new,,, feeling that Ronan had no idea how to feel about. 

A part of Ronan wanted to be pissed off about it. 

A bigger part of Ronan was fascinated in the way that the travelers in his father’s stories had always been fascinated by the glow of will-o’-the-wisps between the branches of the deep woods and frosted bogs. The peace that the church had once given him was spiked with something else now, something that fizzed like pop-rocks under his skin, and as annoying as that was -- he really couldn’t say that he hated it. 

Considering he knew that the fizz of... enchantment was most definitely caused by the boy now living in that small, slanted room above the church? No, he really couldn’t say that he hated it at all. 

Not to say that Adam I’ll-be-independent-if-it-kills-me Parrish didn’t make him want to punch his fist through a fucking brick wall -- because he absolutely did. But there was also something... undeniably right about the boy taking up residence above the church. After all, the infuriating pest already lived full time inside his head, he might as well sleep in the building that housed Ronan’s soul as well. At least he was fucking consistent. 

The shabby door connecting the bedroom to the tiny bathroom creaked open and Ronan caught the ball on its rebound and didn’t throw it again, instead turning his head to look as Adam entered the room. 

He did not expect to see Adam walk into the bedroom in nothing but a towel and instantly looked back up at the ceiling, throwing the ball again with a bit more force than necessary. Only his quick reflexes saved him from losing a fucking eye. He tried not to think about the way the other boy’s skin had been flushed pink from the heat of the shower, his hair damp and pushed haphazardly back from his face, exposing cheekbones and eyes that...

Okay, he tried -- that didn’t mean he succeeded. 

“Sorry, it’ll just be a minute. I forgot to grab something to change into.” Adam’s voice was soft, lilted with the Henrietta accent in the way that only happened when he was either really emotional or perfectly at ease. Ronan would never tell him how much he loved hearing the edge of gravel and wild country grass around his vowels, not on pain of death, but that didn’t make it any less true. 

“Take your time, Parrish. I don’t fucking care.” No one needed to know that the sigh that followed was relief at how nonchalant he had managed to make the words, instead of the dry irritation it sounded like. 

Adam huffed a soft laugh and Ronan could feel the eye-roll being directed at him. He didn’t bother to hide his grin, just gave it a bit more teeth as he tossed the ball up and caught it again. 

It was only another few minutes before the door creaked open again and Adam came out -- this time fully clothed. Ronan caught the ball and sat up, scooting over so that Adam could come over and sit down, which the other boy did with a flourish and a groan. 

“Ugh, I just do not wanna do homework.”

“Then don’t.” Ronan shrugged and bounced the ball on the floor this time, angling it slightly so that when it rebounded it went toward Adam. 

Adam caught it easily and bounced it back, timed perfectly with a familiar scoff. “Some of us care about school, you know.” Ronan waited for a beat, but when Adam didn’t follow that up with chastisement or prod for him to start caring about school, he gave a small shrug. 

“Sure, but tomorrow is Saturday. It isn’t like you’ve got anything due tomorrow. You just got off work, learn how to fucking relax.” He caught the ball and held it for a moment, tilting his head back as he mimicked a thoughtful expression. “Oh, oh that’s right, you don’t know how to relax.” He gave a deep, mournful sigh and bounced the ball back at him. “Shame, for man so smart to be missing such a vital real-life skill.”

“Ha ha, you’re hilarious,” Adam sniped back, but his words were sharpened more with amusement than irritation. 

“Oh, I know. I’m a regular comedy special,” Ronan agreed readily. “But that, actually, was not a joke.” He could press here. He could remind Adam that his whole world didn’t need to be as rigid as he was making it to be. He could tell him that he could afford to take a break every now and then, that he deserved to chill the fuck out. But if he did that he risked sounding too much like Gansey or repeating an argument that neither of them probably felt like jumping into tonight. So instead, he caught the ball and cocked his head, studying the other boy curiously. 

Then he asked, “Where would you go? If you could go anywhere in the world with no consequences. What would you do? And not to accomplish anything great or whatever -- I’m talking just for fun.”

Adam held up his hand for the ball and Ronan tossed it to him. His eyes caught on the way he began to roll it between his palms, those long fingers curling around it, bony wrists twisting to pass it from one hand to the other. Ronan had the sudden urge to brush his lips over the prominent bump in each wrist. Not in a kiss -- but just to feel the protrusion against his mouth. 

“That’s pretty broad,” Adam said with a hum, oblivious to his distraction. “There’s a lot of places I could go.”

“That’s the point. There’s no consequences, no limits. You could go anywhere.” He dragged his gaze away from those hands but this time they caught on the exposed bit of Adam’s collarbone on the way up to his face. “So pick a place, Parrish. Never known you to be so indecisive.”

Adam’s eyes dropped from where they’d been thoughtfully searching the ceiling, locking onto his as he flashed a sharp smirk. That expression cut him right between the ribs, twisted, and nestled in nice and deep for the winter -- because this, this was the Adam Parrish he couldn’t stop thinking about. Everyone seemed to underestimate him. Everyone thought he was so soft, thought he was so polite and sweet and yeah sure, he was all of those things, but that was only one part of him. It was just the surface setting to the multiverse that was Adam Parrish, and this sharp, biting, cunning side of him was closer to his core. Ronan knew he was one of the only people who knew that side was there, and was probably the only person who truly understood how much a part of him that facet was. 

“All right,” he said, his voice smooth and low and Ronan had the distinct certainty that if that sound were a drink it would be a spiked mulled cider, husky and tart in a way that made your head light and your chest warm. “I’ll play. But you go first. Where would you go? Somewhere outside of the States,” he added, before Ronan could say the Barnes -- because he was apparently that predictable. 

Ronan rolled his eyes, but shrugged and slipped off the bed, laying on the floor beside the bed and pillowing his hands under his head as he thought. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Adam stretch out on the bed on his stomach, hugging a pillow and using it to prop his head up a bit as he looked down at Ronan. The feel of Adam’s full and undivided attention on him did things to his pulse he didn’t want to think about. 

“Probably Ireland,” he finally said after a long moment of thought that was torn up and distributed between flickers of distraction caused by Adam’s silhouette in his peripheral, from the way his damp hair was falling into his eyes now that it was beginning to dry all the way to the slump of his broad shoulders and the sharp jut of his elbows against the cushions. There just really wasn’t any part of Adam Parrish that Ronan didn’t want to look at. 

A soft huff of laughter had Ronan turning his head to look at him straight on and the amusement on the other boy’s face told him that he was being predictable again. Ronan frowned -- he didn’t like being predictable. 

“Don’t give me that look. Tell me why, Ronan Lynch.” There was a teasing note in Adam’s voice, and if it were anyone else that would have brought Ronan’s back up -- would have made him snap his teeth and snarl. Coming from Adam, he had to give himself a moment so he didn’t trip over his own foolish tongue. 

Somehow he managed to avoid that humiliation. Instead, he told Adam about Ireland through his father’s eyes. He told himself he didn’t care about the softening of Adam’s smile, that it did absolutely nothing to him to watch the other boy close his eyes and rest his cheek on the pillow, leaving himself vulnerable as he dipped into his own thoughts. Rather, he focused on the stories he was telling Adam, reliving them as he did his best impression of his father’s cadence and storyteller’s hum. He told him stories about the fair folk, the fey and the night creatures. He told him about the magic of each valley and river and dale. He shared his favorite tales about cheeky brownies and powerful, dangerous sidhe that became captivated by the bright, fleeting magic of a human’s ability to create. 

Adam listened to each one, and that smile...? It never faded, not even once. 

“It’s your turn,” Ronan finally said, when his heart was full and his lungs tight -- torn between the memories caused by those stories and these newer, more electric feelings caused by the proximity of Adam Parrish’s smile.

“Mm, I think... I think that if I were to go anywhere in the world I’d want to see high mountains. High mountains and dark woods. Deep lakes. Flowers that seem to have their own language between the brightness of their colors and the way they sway toward and away from each other in a wind that affects them and them alone. Butterflies that cast shadows like birds of prey...” As he spoke his words drew further and further apart, his tone drifting as fatigue from the long day dragged him down toward sleep. 

Ronan held his breath, almost wanting to prod him for more -- because it was rare to hear Adam talk... well, like a dreamer. Adam was a boy who kept himself grounded so deeply in reality it was sometimes painful for Ronan to be around him. This secret side of him, this side of dreams and hope and wonder... it was a vulnerable side that he knew Adam wouldn’t be indulging in if he weren’t perfectly comfortable and probably way more tired than he’d originally thought he was. It was a side of him that Ronan had always known existed (you couldn’t chase a dead Welsh king without being at least part whimsy, no matter how charismatic Gansey was) but one that Adam kept very close to the chest. 

“Mm... Ronan?” Adam’s voice was soft and sleep-slurred, his eyelashes shielding the color of his eyes, he was barely able to keep them open. 

“Yeah?” Ronan’s voice was rough, even to his own ears, but Adam didn’t seem to notice.

“Do you think a place like that actually exists?” The question was light, but there was a raw, sweet shard of hope beneath the words that cut Ronan in a tender space below his throat. 

“Yes,” Ronan promised with certainty, not even needing to think about it -- not even needing to question it. “I know it does.”

Adam’s eyes dropped all the way closed and he smiled, sighing in relief. That sigh transitioned directly into the deep, slow breaths of sleep. 

Ronan knew that he should get up. Sleeping on the floor would give him one hell of a backache, and Adam hadn’t said he could stay over. He should get up and stretch, then drive back to Monmouth, where he should crawl into his own bed for the night -- or maybe stay up longer and bother Gansey, because fuck knew that guy didn’t understand the concept of a regulated sleeping schedule. 

Instead, Ronan watched Adam until his own eyes just couldn’t stay open any longer. Then, from the floor of St. Agnes, beside the boy who called to him like a fire-sprite, Ronan dreamed. He dreamed of dark woods and flowers that seemed to have their own language, between their bright colors and the way they swayed in their own self-contained breezes. He dreamed of butterflies that cast shadows like birds of prey. He dreamed of safe places even in the dark woods -- and when Ronan dreamed... well, when Ronan dreamed, reality itself seemed to listen.

[the-huntress]

Little Moth - Chapter 2 - A Friend

[Thank you to everyone that has read my story so far. I really hope that you enjoy it. My apologies for the slow burn, but all good things come to those that wait… <3]

Masterlist

Y/N Protagonist, female. Reader X Karl Heisenberg. [18+]

Summary: Awoken by the clang of metal another strange dream haunts you as you make your journey towards the ominous ‘village’, searching for your life-long friend, Leon.

Trigger Warnings: Supernatural violence.

Song Suggestion: ‘Keep Me Alive’ by All We Are.

[Photos are my own] The next 24 hours were a blur; bagel, taxi, airport, flight, layover in airport, Frankfurter infused pretzel, flight to worryingly small airport, ride in the back of a 1980s Toyota pick-up truck (with cages full of chickens and feathers flying about), which took you to the smallest train station you’d ever seen (one platform), two steam trains later, a weakened moment of purchasing unidentified brand of cigarettes with picture of a goat on the front from a man that smells profusely like garlic, and then a moment of mildly suppressed panic at being in a completely unknown to you part of the world with not a word of Romanian to your repertoire.

Standing at what kind of looked like maybe the side of a road-ish, you pulled out the badly printed map, co-ordinates and a compass. You looked up at the sky, despite it being overcast the clouds were still thin enough to be able to see roughly where the sun was sat. It was 2pm, your phone no longer had a hope in hell of working out here signal wise, but at least for now, it could tell you the time, after that it would just be you and the sun.

You couldn’t deny as the treck took you further away from the already very small towns and villages, and further into the countryside and wilderness, that the landscape was incredibly beautiful. Snow-capped mountains, like you’d never seen anywhere but the movies graced the horizon, leafless tree branches began to out-number their more lustrous looking sisters, and yet, dotted amongst the white, a spattering of green, forests and woodlands a-like, untouched by the torrents of snow, as if by some magic. The fresh air in your lungs made you feel powerful somehow, like you were on a path leading to destiny, something inside you was being fulfilled. Even during the time sat alone on the steam train, staring at the hillsides and woodlands as they flew past, catching your own reflection in the glass here and there, you’d felt as if you were heading towards something exciting yet familiar.

The day seemed to go much faster than you’d imagined, but then it was late into the year, the days much shorter. Grateful for the fact that you’d chosen to wear a zip up hoodie under your usual work jacket, you still had to give the tops of your arms a rub with your gloved hands. You’d also prepared with thin leggings under your black combat trousers and worn hiking socks under your military boots. There was still more than enough light to see, but the Village was still not yet in sight. The hike had been challenging, your knee was now starting to protest, both with an ache and with a sharpness too it. Just a little further, you thought, wincing against it.

You stopped dead in your tracks. There was a noise nearby but not anything that you were used to. What was that? A train? There were no train tracks running through this part of the wilderness as far as you knew, you’d hoped not at least, else you’d be kicking yourself in the ass if you could have saved yourself from the pain that you were in after all this time. A rumbling, chundering, rickety sound, drawing closer and closer. A light in the distance, a lantern, two of them, swinging wildly now on the front of a carriage and a man’s face, crazed with panic, and what a man, at least two times the size in both height and girth of anyone that you’d ever met before.

“Run my darling adventurer, run, for it is not safe for you here!” He yelled towards you. But you couldn’t, you were frozen solid, seeing now what he was trying to escape; and you’d thought this man was larger than life. What approached behind him… was unearthly. The wind was thrown out of you as you were yanked by the collar and swung onto the back of the carriage. The man had tossed you up to at least temporary safety, although how stable this thing was you did not know. You stared back towards the rear of the carriage, eyes narrowing on what you now identified as your target. In short, you could see some kind of humanoid being, roughly 8 foot tall, muscles rippling, pale, sallow skin, with patches of thick hair covering various parts of its body, a loin cloth, beady, mean cold gold eyes, pointed ears and a mouth full of needle sharp teeth. Hurtling along in front of it, in its grasp were two humungous beasts, covered in shaggy hair, almost like two huge dogs or bears, but with some of the most nightmarish faces that you’d ever seen. All you could see was that fact that they wanted nothing more than to tear you limb from limb.

You didn’t mess around for shit and your pistol was in your hand before you could say ‘boulder punching bastard’. You fired one, two, three times, each shot tearing through the shoulders of the front two beasts.

“You really think that thing is going to take them down?” Yelled the driver, craning his head around to take a quick glance at you. You grimaced, thrown down to the roof by a sudden jolt, and quickly tore your glance back at your enemies. They were closing the gap.

“Make a quick turn, here, around that rock!” You yelled, pointing ahead. The man began his manoeuvre as you’d instructed, and without question, for which you were grateful, you only had a couple of seconds to act and one shot at this. You pulled the aerosol from your pocket. This wasn’t just any can, this was something that you’d created yourself. Looked like a normal deodorant or spray can for sure except for two minor differences; it was re-fillable, and it had a range of up to 15 feet. You swiped the lighter back from your cap and took aim, lighter in your left hand in front, aerosol in your right hand, the U-turn took your right back past the trio as they came tearing down the slope. The noise wasn’t quite deafening, but it was loud enough, and you’d succeeded. The two hairy beasts were covered in flames and yelping, running frantically and tore off into the forest. HAHA! You laughed, another bump and you were back on the roof, stealing a glance at the man steering who had a grin on his face too. “Trick shot!” You called back.

The wolven giant roared in fury, for he was scorched, but his rage burned savagely more so than any flame that you could create.

“Very good little moth, but we need something bigger for that one. In the carriage, the room below you there is something that will help, you will know it when you see it, retrieve it now.” You nodded, not noticing for a moment what he’d called you, but you didn’t have time to think and ask. You slid down through the small hatch in the roof, just wide enough for your body, some kind of sky light you guessed and fell to the floor. The dwindling sun light now blazing red over the horizon and through the silhouettes of the trees lit the inner carriage just enough for you to take in what was around you; a lot of meat for one thing. You were never any good at hiding your thoughts on your face, but no one was here to see that right now. There were a couple of larger crates, a globe, typewriter, trinket boxes. Parts rolled and rattled, but you knew what you were here for, right in front of you on the bed. You pulled yourself back up through the hatch.

“This it?” You called to him, holding up a hefty and yet ornate bow. It seemed to be built in the way that somewhat resembled a modern-day compound bow but had a more traditional look to its materials and smaller details. “That’s the one’” he called back. “Here, take these.” He went to pass a bundle of arrows without quiver, but as he did so the beast threw itself at the back of the carriage. You yelled, the impact threw you into the arrows, your blood now over a few of the heads, and all at once you were thrown into darkness, your back slamming against the floor of the inside of the carriage. Shaking your head, you realised what had happened, scrambling on the floor and grabbing as many of the spilled arrows up as you could. Blood began to soak the garments covering your right hip. It was just a flesh wound, but deep enough to sting, reminding you of a time in your childhood when you’d crawled through brambles and the thorns had left 12 longs scars down your torso.

Back on your feet, you booted the doors open, throwing them into the beast’s face, both his clawed hands firmly sunk into the wood either side of the carriage, half running, half being dragged along. He reared his head and roared at you, and you roared back, raising the first arrow and taking aim. “FUCK YOU!” You cried out, the arrow sliced through his cheek but this only made him angrier, throwing one arm into the carriage now, half in, the other arm pulled him further, you realised quickly with terror that you were very quickly being pinned against the bed at the back. It grabbed you around your waist, yanking you down onto the floor, roaring madly once again, into your face, the foulest smelling breath hot and slick with spittle. Something crashed off the shelf above you and onto its head, almost like it shot out of place of its own accord, against the natural trajectory of the way of which the carriage was now turning. It threw the beast back out of the carriage and you only had a moment to grab onto a fixture on the wall which held tools in place before you felt the carriage begin to topple and hurtle.

You lost count of how many rolls it took, but when it stopped it was deathly silent, like a veil had been pulled over this part of the woods. Rain began to fall on the deathly branches above in the would-be canopy. You pulled yourself out, scathed and bleeding, but you weren’t done. Good job you’d thought to throw on your light armour mid hike. You looked around at the driver, he didn’t say anything, but he was breathing. “Are you ok, friend?” You asked, putting a hand on his shoulder. He brought his head up and looked up at you. “Yes.” He replied, placing one of his hands over yours. You nodded and started walking to the hulking heap of hair, blood and muscle only meters away. With each step you took you felt the presence of something growing behind you, like a shadow. The sound of metal scraping. “He’s here.” You heard your companion breathe. You had no idea who or what he meant, but right now you had one thing on your mind and that was your kill.

Still closing the gap without a falter, you took three arrows that you had clipped to your bag only moments ago, set their heads ablaze with the fluid and lighter. You set them against the nock, the flames burning bright now in your eyes, and a shower of metal, knives, bullets, scraps came flying down from around you and into the flesh of the beast. They didn’t just stop upon impact, they kept going, embedding themselves further and further into its flesh. It bellowed and swung its arms in pain, standing tall above you, arching it’s back, but still you stood your ground, unblinking, until it fell back down to the ground, writhing now. You leapt up onto its twisting shoulder, taking aim with the bow and let the trio of burning arrows do their work, shattering through the skull, two ending it all at once, and one at an angle coming back halfway out of its blood shot eye.

You stayed there for what seemed like an eternity. Staring and waiting. No thoughts going through your mind, the darkness in you waning back to the parts of your mind where it usually hid, flowing away like black smoke or the tide going out.

Something was calling. Not out loud, but in your head, your heart, something was calling just for you, but without any sound. You looked up towards the carriage, which strangely was now upright again, though in a bit of a mess, your friend there besides it, a little worse for wear, and a glint of light, the reflection of the flames that had begun to grow around you in the darkness just beyond, the crunch of the undergrowth, and whatever it was, was gone.

[gumnut-logic]

Callisto - Part Five - Orientation

Prologue 1. Incident - Bit 1 | Bit 2 2. Fallout - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 3. Voyage - Bit 1 | Bit 2 | Bit 3 4. Arrival - Bit 1 | Bit 2 5. Orientation

Things actually start happening now :D

As always, many, many thanks to @tsarinatorment​ @scribbles97​ @janetm74​ and @onereyofstarlight​ for all their amazing help. We’re deep into the hard slog now, but I am still enjoying this so that is a good sign :D

Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to read this and cheer me on. The hard slog of the middle of a long fic can be as bad as the hard slog in the middle of a painting, so all cheering is always welcome. But ultimately, I’m hoping you are find this enjoyable and not boring :D Nutty is learning here, so big L plate on my forehead.

Let the antics continue.

-o-o-o-

Virgil stared at his father’s broad back as he walked the length of the gantry toward the elevator. Scott paused a moment and Virgil placed a hand on his back in support. Muscle beneath many micro layers of spacesuit rippled as his brother loosened his shoulders. A glance of fiery blue and Scott followed his father.

As was the way of things.

Virgil followed Scott.

As was the way of things.

The cavern was a large one. It had to be to fit Three beneath its airlock doors. His heads up display confirmed pressurisation of the bay to Earth normal and his mind did the calculations on the infrastructure required to pump that much atmosphere into such a large space so quickly. He couldn’t help but be impressed.

The gantry led to an elevator platform and they crowded onto it. Gordon brushed up against him as if to catch his attention and a worried frown was shot in Virgil’s direction.

As the gantry retracted and the platform lowered, Virgil let a hand brush against Gordon’s side. If he did the same to Alan, well, they were his brothers and he may have needed the connections a little himself.

The ride down gave them a great view of the heavy equipment available in the bay. Virgil had accessed all the information he could get his hands on during the trip out, needing to know how he was going to deploy their own equipment.

He had known this was going to be an underground job and had packed accordingly. The problem with underground was initial deployment - how to get the equipment under the ground.

The backup was always to make their own holes. But that could be unnecessarily messy and a last resort. So Virgil was quite happy to see the set up included all the heavy-duty crane and hover support he could ever want.

TI had equipped this expedition exceedingly well.

Walters met them at the bottom of the bay. The rock had been ground smooth down here, filler shone in places where ice had obviously been removed, making the floor a patchwork of white and dark grey, human ingenuity and raw moon.

The Commander nodded to Scott, but it was their father whose hand he grasped solidly before pulling him into a hug. “Space Jockey, it is so good to see you. Thank you for coming.” Walters stepped back and held Jeff at arms’ length. “You’ve gone grey.”

“And you’re bald. Your point?” But their father was grinning through the plasiglass of his helmet.

“We’re both a little crunchy around the edges.” He turned to Lee. “Hey, Scrappy.”

“Graeme, I may be old, but I can still kick your ass over that.” Despite the threat, Uncle Lee grabbed the man’s hand and shook it with enthusiasm.

“These are my boys.” Dad gestured at them in turn. “Scott, Virgil, Gordon and Alan. John is still aboard the Excel and will be liaising from there.”

Walters nodded at each of them in turn, his white-grey spacesuit wrinkling with the movement. He had his helmet on just like the IR crew did. Best chance to avoid contamination or some random bug the Tracys might had inadvertently brought with them.

Of course, Virgil and John had run the decon protocols before departure and it was obvious Callisto had its own methods, but the risk was there. Helmets on unless they had no choice.

Another thing about space that was annoying - listening to your own breathing in a confined container. Okay for short term, total annoyance long term. Especially if your nose got itchy.

It was a sign that Virgil really needed more sleep when he managed to miss a chunk of what Walters was saying simply because he was designing an in-helmet nose scratcher in his head. Well, it could be multifunctional if he gave it enough reach. Head scratcher, chin scratcher-

Gordon nudged him.

Unfortunately, right in his bruises. “Ow.” He glared at his brother only to find the fish gesturing with his eyes.

Commander Walters was looking at Virgil with a question on his face. Both Scott and Dad were frowning at him. Oh shit. “I’m sorry, what did you say?”

“The Commander asked if we would like to survey the entrance to the caves first or deploy our equipment.” Dad’s voice was very...patient. “Scott said it was your decision.”

Virgil didn’t hesitate, regardless of the embarrassment. “I’ve scoured your maps, Commander, but I would be happier if you could show us the entrance to the cave network. It’s not far?” maps and diagrams were one thing. Reality was another.

Walters eyed him a little curiously. “Sure. Follow me.” And he led them towards a set of massive doors.

For a moment there, Virgil expected some grinding machinery to split the doors wide like some grand movie entrance complete with cinematic music, but no, Walters led them to a small airlock embedded in the left door and ushered them through.

It was kind of disappointing actually.

“We keep the Garden isolated as a precaution and as a way to monitor the function of the ecosystem.

“Garden?” Alan had obviously not had time to fully read up on the Base like the rest of them.

Walters’ eyes lit up despite everything. “You are in for a treat. The Garden is our horticultural team’s ultimate triumph.”

The doors opened and sunlight flooded into the airlock. And it was sunlight enough for Virgil’s jaw to drop. They stepped out into an environment so familiar, they may as well have stepped out the back door of the villa.

Except it wasn’t. The plants were recognisable, yes, but their growth most definitely was not.

This was not in the briefing notes.

“This looks suspiciously familiar.” It was Gordon who stepped to the front of the group.

Walters frowned. “Excuse me.”

Gordon’s eyes narrowed in on the man. He pointed at a nearby tree. “Pokey trees don’t get that big in five years, Commander. What’s in the water?”

It was Walters’ turn to frown. “Pokey trees?” A blink. “Oh, pohutukawa. No, they do not. However, with some special treatment and the lack of strong gravity, they can.”

Virgil stared up at the giant tree. It was far too thin at the base for the spread of the massive branches and it seem wrong somehow. Everything was too long and looked as if it was going to fall. What was even more odd was the sound of a honeyeater argument in those branches. A scuffle, a ruckus of squawks and a flash of grey and yellow flew out from amongst the leaves and darted over the rocky hill in front of them.

“You have birds?!” Gordon sounded caught between amazement and outrage.

Walters stared at him a moment longer. “We have much more than that.” He turned away and led them away from the tree and up a winding path. Virgil’s boots crunched gravel that glittered as it moved. He frowned at what was probably nothing more than ground up moon. It was pale and sparkling like some set prop out of an early science fiction show John might have watched.

But he was soon distracted by much more fascinating sights.

The path led up a small hill and soon he realised that they were in a massive cavern, bigger than all the hangars beneath Tracy Island combined.

And it was full of life.

Birds of several different kinds flew about the ‘sky’. A sky dominated by a number of extremely bright lights hanging from a ceiling so high it couldn’t be seen for the brilliance. Oddly growing foliage was everywhere. The lone pokey tree by the door was scarlet in blossom, but it was not alone. Flowers sprouted from wonky stems and too tall grass. The little hill they were standing on was the highest point in the cavern, the ground sloping down into the distance. At the far edge, a lake had ducks swimming in it.

“How the hell?” It was Gordon, but Virgil’s questions were not far behind.

Several physical requirements clicked into place. The cavern was obviously heated and pressurised with an Earth level atmosphere just like the hangar, otherwise those birds wouldn’t be able to fly beyond bouncing in the gravity.

While Gordon’s head seemed ready to explode, Virgil managed one word. “How?”

Walters had a quietly confident smirk on his face. “A combination of research, applied science and a whole pile of luck.” A sigh. “This is Ju’s baby.”

Scott shifted where he stood. “Where is the access to the cave network?” Virgil glanced at his brother. There was an intensity in his eyes that spoke of both mission urgency and further questions that would need asking once that mission was complete.

Walters exhaled and nodded. “This way.” He led them down the other side of the hill to what eventually proved to be another set of massive doors. “The caverns were here when we arrived. We knew of them before we left Earth, but what we did not realise was their extent.” Walters stopped in front of the doors. He gestured at the cavern. “To create all this, we only needed to seal the cavern entrance overhead – which the Base did nicely. We installed a series of atmospheric inducers, the heating and the lighting. The rest we grew from seed or egg.” The man was obviously proud of their achievements.

“Sir, the caves?” Scott was getting rightfully impatient.

“Yes. Yes, you’re right.” He swallowed and hurried over to yet another small door within a door.

Virgil took another step forward, intending on seeing how the door was unlocked when his world suddenly doubled. His stomach rolled over with that familiar nausea ever so reminiscent of their trip out here.

He swallowed and closed his eyes a second.

“Virg? You okay?” Gordon was whispering on a closed channel.

Virgil cranked his eyes open, lack of sleep suddenly piling on top of him. His fish brother was frowning at him. Scott, their father and Uncle Lee were walking towards Walters and the door.

The sudden vertigo had him fearing an incident inside his helmet.

But then as he took a step towards Gordon, the nausea faded away, a single last cramp dissipating as his little brother approached and put a hand on his arm.

“Virg?”

“I’m okay. Just felt dizzy for a second there.”

“T-drive?”

“Probably.”

“Meds wearing off?”

“Didn’t think I would need them.”

Now Alan had stopped following Scott and was looking back. Any minute now and he would have not only Scott on his ass, but Dad as well. He straightened his spine. “I’m good.” But whatever it was had triggered the beginnings of a headache.

Damn.

Well, it wouldn’t be the first time he’d completed a rescue with a headache. He’d throw back some paracetamol when they went back to Three to source their equipment.

“You sure?”

“I said so, didn’t I?”

Gordon held up his hands. “Just checking, bro. Don’t get your pants in a twist. Hard to unknot them out here.”

But Gordon was still frowning at him.

Alan was turning back...

Move or get smothered.

He flexed his shoulders and strode off to join the rest of this family.

-o-o-o-

Gordon stared after his heavy lifting brother.

Damn that T-drive. His own stomach hadn’t fully recovered either and Virgil was obviously still feeling it.

Gordon pondered whether Virg could knock him out for the voyage home. Maybe knock both of them out.

Alan was frowning and gesturing for him to hurry up. Scott and Dad had already entered what turned out to be yet another airlock.

Space was hard work.

He kicked at the gravel as he trotted after his brother and darted into the huge airlock with his brothers.

Walters was talking again as he sealed the door behind them. “The cavern appears to have been a terminus for this branch of the cave network.” Walters should seek a job as a tour guide. “As I said earlier, we knew about some of the caves before we arrived, but it became increasingly clear that our sensors weren’t telling the full story when we discovered exactly how many tunnels are under the surface here.”

Gordon felt the room depressurise and his HUD declared the atmosphere had become almost nothing. He frowned. It was still something though and he remembered that Callisto was one of those odd places that had the bare minimum of a bunch of gases clinging to it.

He was pretty sure that if he pinged Johnny, he could give him an essay on it, Jupiter luny fan he was.

Walters opened the other side of the airlock and led them through.

Oh, wow.

They were once again in a cavern, a smaller one to the one they had just left and it was obviously more in its natural state. The big doors were sealed into one wall and a lighting system had been deployed running off into the distance.

And there was a lot of distance. The cavern was definitely a tunnel, a good twenty metres wide and high. But that wasn’t all that had his jaw dropping.

The walls were sparkling in the light.

Walters must have seen his reaction or the reaction of his family. “Pretty amazing, huh? The walls are full of a mix of ice and rock. The ice catches the light, but there is also an unusual amount of mineralised crystal as well. We’ve found several types of quartz along with precious metals.”

Gordon was only half listening to him. He wandered over to the nearest wall and examined it. Ice. Water. But in a way it was rarely seen on Earth. Kinda interesting. He ran a hand over the wall and frowned. “You say this is natural?”

“Other than stringing up the lights and installing the doors, from here on, it is pure Callisto.”

“This was made by running water.” Even Gordon knew how impossible that was in the current environment. He looked up to find everyone staring at him. “Hey, I know my element when I see it. This wall has been eroded by running water.”

Walters slumped just a little. “Thank you. Ju has been saying that since we got here. Unfortunately, we can’t work out how that can possibly be a thing, but yeah, all the tunnels, if we were on Earth? Water made. Like limestone caves apparently.” A snort. “Ju has been very adamant about it.”

“Have you reported this?” Dad’s voice startled Gordon a little.

“Reported? Sure. But all her peers are less than accepting. All signs point to Callisto as having had no crustal movement since it formed, minor atmosphere, and certainly no running water at these pressures.”

“But this is a fact.” Gordon frowned again. “What about the reports of an ocean on Callisto under the crust.” Yes, he had checked that out. This wasn’t his first Jovian moon after all. It was why he had brought Four with him.

“Too far down. We can’t reach it. And besides, it is impossible for water to exist as a liquid on the surface, there is not enough atmospheric pressure. We’re barely five hundred metres down here. We haven’t been able to explain it, and until we do, it is considered only one possible and likely doubtful explanation.”

Gordon turned back to the wall. It glittered at him as if daring him to discover its mysteries. “Virg?”

“Hmm?” His brother’s voice was distracted enough to distract Gordon. He flicked over to a private comm. “You sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Gordon. What did you want?”

Gordon grunted. “You got something to test the rocks?”

“If needs be. We have a rescue to complete first.” Virgil killed the private line and turned to Walters. “I’m satisfied. Scott, we need some recon. I recommend we get two dragonflies down here.”

Scott nodded. “Okay, we are go. Alan, you’re with me. Gordon, you’re Virgil’s wingman.”

As it should be.

Besides, Gordon wanted to keep an eye on their resident lumberjack. He was acting weird.

“Dad, you and Uncle Lee are our liaisons with Base.”

Gordon bit his lip.

“Scott-“

The Commander of International Rescue held up his hand, fire in his eyes. “No, arguments.”

Dad’s eyes latched onto Scott and flared, but Uncle Lee grabbed his arm. “Space Jockey...”

Grey eyes flickered to his best friend and got a dose of determined Lee Taylor for the effort.

Their father’s lips thinned as nobody moved for a whole moment, Scott emanating commander vibes all over the cavern. If Dad didn’t obey, all hell was going to let loose.

“Thunderbird Five to Callisto.” John’s voice echoed over multiple comms, a faint and unfamiliar hiss and crackle in the background.

The moment snapped and Scott tapped his comms. “We read you, Thunderbird Five.”

“There is considerable interference on comms, you should be aware. I cannot guarantee service at all times. Source is unknown.”

“Noted.”

Damn, that was going to make this even more difficult. They could get lost down here themselves.

But then this wouldn’t be the first time Gordon had worked without contact with his brothers.

First time in space, though.

“Scott, we have located two life signs.”

“What?!” Walters took a step forward and looked ready to climb into Scott’s commset to get further information.

The commander ignored him. “Details, Thunderbird Five.”

“Eos and I were able to work around the majority of the interference and we have two faint lifesigns registering to the north of Callisto Base, almost directly under Burr crater.”

“Only Two? We have five missing persons, Thunderbird Five.”

“I know, Scott.” John’s voice was calm but sad. “Eos is still working on that interference, but at this point I don’t expect to find more. We’ve been able to map the caverns and tunnels within a thousand-kilometre radius. Sending the data to your comms now. Other than those two, I’m reading nothing. I do not have enough resolution to locate anything more specific.”

Like dead bodies.

All of them shifted where they stood, caught between the positive of a location and the negative of three missing rescuees.

“Keep looking, Thunderbird Five.” Scott’s voice was empty of emotion.

They had a mission and now they had a target.

“FAB.”

The line cut out.

Virgil had already pulled up the map John supplied on his wrist ‘projector, his eyes combing the holographic maze of tunnels. Even from here Gordon could see they were massive. If these had been eroded by water, the rivers had been big.

But their history would have to wait. There were lives at stake and Scott was already moving back to the airlock, Virgil and the rest of the group hurrying to follow.

Gordon hesitated just a second, lured by the thought of water flowing through the rock in such a low-pressure environment that the liquid should be ice.

The walls sparkled at him.

But the mission...

He took a step forward and his foot kicked something tiny that bounced ahead of him. Frowning, he bent to pick it up.

The crystal was no bigger than his fingernail and sparkled pink in the lighting.

“Gordon!” Scott was glaring at him from inside the airlock.

The aquanaut shoved the stone into his kit and hurried to catch up.

Perhaps space was a little more interesting than he thought.

-o-o-o-

Next

[starkeristheendgame]

okay so i just got my first ever massage today and holy crap it was so sensual. and i was wondering if you could write something where like tony’s had so many massages in his life that he knows where the best spots are and peter is stressed cus of college or whatever and tony gives him a massage and peter cums just from tony giving him a back massage.

Ooohhh, yes! I’m not one for massages personally because I kinda hate being touched by people I don’t know, especially like that, but I’ve given a few to friends and received a few from past lovers, so I hope this is to your liking! Thank you so so much for the prompt! I added a little dry humping in this, too, because cumming just from a spinal massage seemed a lil too unrealistic.

Super healing was all well and good, but Tony knew well enough that it didn’t mean the absence of pain. He’d been around Steve long enough to know that in some cases, it even amplified it. What was feeling your bones and muscles stretching for each other if not painful?

Watching Peter wince and reach for his lower back for the fourth time since they holed themselves up in the lab, Tony knew the answer. The kid had taken a pretty decent battering on the field - No broken bones, but plenty of taut, aching muscles.

“Hey, kid” Tony called, setting down the holo-pen he was using and motioning for Peter to join him. The boy moved happily but gingerly, overcareful of stretching too much as he bounded over to Tony’s side.

“Yes, Mr. Stark?”

“You doing okay? You’re creaking more than I do”. Tony had just began to come to terms with the fact that his age unfortunately hadn’t slowed down. He was verging on fifty, greying at the temples and finding it harder and harder after each battle. He was by no means unfit, but age was unkind to even superheroes.

“I’m fine, Mr. Stark. Just kinda twinges a little” Peter shrugged, and visibly regretted it. Tony cast the kid a pointed look, and he deflated slightly. “Okay. So...It kinda does suck. But only a little! Like, a day or two and I’ll be fine. Hot baths help, too”.

Tony gave a considering hum and reached up to rub at his jaw. “What about massages?” He asked, and Peter blinked at him.

“What, like...Some stranger rubbing you all over while you wear nothing but a towel?”

Tony huffed a laugh. “I don;t know what porn you’re watching, kid, but the majority of places ask you to wear your underwear or a bathing suit”. Peter went a pretty shade of dusky pink, eyes flitting anywhere but Tony’s face as he died a little inside.

“Uh. Well. No to either. Both! I mean...I’ve never had a massage. Its just a little weird, isn’t it? And expensive” Peter rambled, gesturing meekly. Tony supposed it was a little strange, but he was also not ill-advised of the merits of a skilled masseuse.

“Cm’ere” Tony coaxed, motioning Peter closer. The boy frowned a little, but was mostly curious as he stepped forwards, and Tony grasped him by a lithe shoulder, turning him until the kid was facing away from him, and Tony could see the smooth lines of his back through his shirt.

He reached up and set his hands on Peter’s shoulders, brows furrowing as he carefully felt about the honed muscles. God, but Peter was tense. Not coiled like a spring, but he definitely wasn’t lax as Tony pressed his thumbs gently into the meat of his shoulder. Peter jolted in surprise but visibly forced himself to relax as Tony began to knead at him, and after several moments, let out a soft sound.

“Huh. That’s...Not so bad” Peter admitted, when Tony was digging into the space between his shoulders, paddling out the tension across his spine there. Tony gave a light smile and a hum, to show that he was listening to him.

“You feel like someone just caught you jacking off, kid” he chuckled, and then paused. Perhaps...Not the greatest choice in words, and he hurried to wipe them from immediate existence. “I know you got pretty beat up out there, yesterday. How about I book you in with my guy, huh? You can see him whenever you feel too...Tense”.

“I don’t know, Mr. Stark. I mean, I don’t think I want some stranger feeling me up” Peter replied, but it was quiet, distracted as Tony let his hands dip a little lower, to the point where his spine began to broaden out into shoulderblades, pawing at the meat and bone.

“Have a think about it” Tony urged, thumbs pressing against the dip of Peter’s spinal cord, and the boy gave a muffled, sharp sound. Tony almost, almost paused, but he knew pleasure when he heard it, and continued wordlessly. And he was kind of glad he did, because when he took the selfish opportunity to run his hands down Peter’s spine, the kid truly did feel like he’d been tazed or something.

“Jesus, kid” Tony whuffed, petting gently at the locked up muscles. Peter ducked his head and then looked over his shoulder at Tony, almost shyly. Tony greeted him with a small smile and let his knuckles graze the delicate outline of the boy’s spine, not enough to really do enough except indulge himself.

“Alright, here. Sit on this chair, facing the back” Tony instructed, motioning to his abandoned stool. It had a sloped back, and Peter twisted, moving cautiously but clearly interested to see where this was going to do. He took a moment to psych himself up as he watched Peter splay those toned, lithe thighs around the chair, watched the shirt hug his back when he leaned forwards.

But Tony was nothing if not a pleaser, and he stepped forwards, waggling his fingers and then driving the heels of his palms against the small of his back. Peter made another of those soft little noises, and Tony offered a smirk, brows furrowing as he focused on mapping the lines of Peter’s body, each slope and curve and each battered muscle.

Somewhere along the five minute mark, Peter’s head was lolling and on every other press of Tony’s hands he was uttering pleasured, sighed little sounds. It sang through Tony’s veins, catering to every nurturing and giving atom in his body. Peter was growing laxer by the minute, and yet...

“Hey, kid. If you wanna get the most outta this - And this isn’t a come-on, but you ought to be laying down, and I’ve got a perfectly working bed one floor up” Tony remarked, trying his hardest to word it so it didn’t sound like he was being a leech.

“Mr. Stark?” Peter sounded sleepy, but his voice was a little higher, too, hitched like he was trying to contain himself.

“Not a come-on” Tony hurried to reiterate, hands stilling but not leaving Peter’s body. “Massages are done with you laying down, right? So you’re all relaxed and...Easier to mash up like a potato, I suppose. I can do a little magic like this, but if you want the full effect...”

He was aware of how it all sounded, and he was about to take it all back when Peter shifted, and then nodded.

“Okay. Yeah. Um. Are you sure? I mean, its your bed” Peter uttered, Tony stepping back just in time for him to swing a leg around, standing and then sitting again, so he was facing his mentor. Tony snorted lightly, and eyed him.

“You say that like I’m a wolf and its my den”.

“Well. No. But its kinda...Private, isn’t it? Like, its your space”. And. Well, Tony could understand that. He was, in fact, rather comfortable with having his bedroom as his personal space. Especially with the majority of the Avengers living at the Tower now.

It was his space, yes. Even the rare hook ups he’d managed over the years, he took them to one of the spare rooms. But he wasn’t about to tell Peter that, and he certainly wasn’t going to analyse why he was so comfortable with the idea of Peter not only seeing it, but laying in his bed.

“Its not like you’re gonna be rolling around naked in it, kid”.

And.

This is why he didn’t talk to people. He pinched the bridge of his nose and sighed, but a shuffle brought his gaze up and he blinked when he found Peter standing, smiling at him almost meekly.

“Okay, Mr. Stark. It’ll be nice to be able to move around properly again”.

Tony opened his mouth, closed it, and turned on his heel. He’d offered; he couldn’t back out of it now. It felt hideously odd to lead the way to his room, his skin prickling and his mind like a box of angry wasps. He was hyper-aware of Peter’s footfalls behind him, light and steady.

The stairs. The penthouse main suite. Up the short steps and along the balcony. And...Right outside his bedroom door. The actual penthouse was nothing new to Peter - The two of them had spent enough time in here, as had the other Avengers, though it was by far not as heavily populated as the ‘main floor’ of the Tower, now dubbed a communal space.

And yet.

Tony pushed open his bedroom door before he could think too deeply about all of this, and swung an arm out with bravado. “Ta-Da! Here it is. My humble abode. Or...The very top part, at least”.

Tony’s bedroom was...Indulgent. His bed was a super king, and then just a little bigger. Black sheets that adorned a mix of silk of teddy fleece, and snowy-fox style fake fur throws. Ample pillows. The decor was minimalistic but a blend of regal and cool, sleek modern. Steel greys and deep blacks. One entire wall gave a one-way view of the cityscape and could be projected into anything he desired.

Besides him, Peter audibly breathed out.

“I know. Pretty lame, right?” Tony could do with more than 6 blankets. And he could definitely do something more creative with the decor. Besides him, Peter looked affronted.

“My bed came from a garage sale”.

“Ah” Tony considered, then gestured. “Go ahead”.

Like a puppy being told it could get on the couch, Peter went bounding towards it, flopping down near the centre with a delighted sound. Tony’s heart did something that defied gravity, and he let Peter squirm about for a moment before clearing his throat.

“Alright, alright. Roll over”. And he was really gonna have to stop with the puppy analogies before he couldn’t walk down the same street as a dog anymore. But Peter co,plied instantly, rolling onto his stomach with a whine of satisfaction, nosing into Tony’s sheets and...And he took the opportunity to adjust himself briefly, cursing the fact his cock had pricked up in mild interest.

“Alright. I’m gonna avoid any ‘deep tissue’ kinda territory, because you’ve never had a massage before”. And Tony knew from personal experience that ‘flying before you could walk’ was not always the best approach. Peter was looking at him again, blinking doefully and entirely too trusting, and Tony gave a light cough before he set a knee down next to Peter’s hip.

He decided on safe territory, and went back to the boys shoulderblades and upper spine, kneading intently and applying more pressure than he had before, know he knew the boy was safely and comfortably relaxed. Beneath him Peter was pliant and soft, eyes closed, arms crossed as a pillow and doing something utterly unforgivable to Tony’s heart.

He let his hands naturally gravitate towards the centre of Peter’s back, pressing at the easy slope of his spine. Beneath him, Peter’s hips hitched, and Tony fought back a smile. Involuntary movements could be hilarious. He pressed the heels of his palms down, thumbs sliding along the gentle ridges of the bone, and Peter heaved out a breath, hips pressing down into the plush bedding.

It was relatively quiet, Tony focusing on his work and Peter reaping the benefits of it with cute little noises. It wasn’t until Peter moaned that Tony realised his hips were inching quite...Rhythmically.

Doing his best not to alter his hand movements, Tony let his gaze zero in on the boy’s hips, watching as they rolled languidly and minutely against his bed. Something feral opened its eyes within him, licking its great, gaping maw. Tony sucked in a sharp breath and let his weight drop a little more, pressing Peter’s hips against the bed.

“O-Oh” Peter stuttered, and Tony couldn’t help a sly grin.

“Good?”

“Mm” Peter breathed, lips parted. Tony watched, rapt and hungry, gravitating to the space between Peter’s hips. He did his best not to make it obvious, the way he manipulated how Peter rutted against his mattress, but before long the boy was shaking and a steady stream of moans were dripping from his tongue.

Peter seemed to catch himself at one point, stiffening, cheeks flushing, but Tony shushed him cheerfully. “Hey, its okay. At least you’re not screaming in agony” he teased, and Peter giggled, relaxing again.

“I’m sorry. Its just...Its good? I mean, it hurts a little sometimes. But it feels really nice”.

He wanted, so badly in that moment, to make Peter feel even better. To drive his hips down against the bedding until he came. It was possessive and greedy, and he tried to fight it even as Peter’s sweet, high little moans filled his ears.

“Its okay” he repeated, quieter. “How does...Do you feel any better?” He asked, keeping his voice light. Below him, Peter nodded, paused, and squirmed.

“I do, yeah. Tonnes, but...I mean, I’m still a little stiff? In the middle. Maybe...Maybe the muscle is too tight? Or its not the right angle?”

Something twisted within him, warping and bending until it snapped, and he was parting his lips before he could even muster the self-control to murder the thought. “I could...Its not common. For obvious reasons. And feel no obligation to agree, but I could change the angle? Just means kinda...Sitting. On your legs. A little”.

And...Fuck. He wanted to claw the words back in, especially when Peter’s breathing hitched and he whimpered, but...Fuck. Was the kid nodding? The kid was nodding.

“Okay. Yeah. Just...For the...Benefits” Peter near whispered. Tony stared at the back of his head for a little while longer, tracing the spirals of his curls before he sucked in a breath. Right.

“Right” he affirmed, and after a moment, he brought his other leg up, so, so carefully over the other side of Peter. He aimed it close to his knee, so that when he truly shuffled across he wasn’t quite reverse-straddling the teenager. The angle actually was better, because he could pay closer attention to the alignment of his back and the muscle layout.

And now that he had better access, he began to knead at the boy in earnest, drawing soft little ‘uh’s on each press that went straight, unfortunately, to his dick.He couldn’t help the thought that this was quite possibly what the kid sounded like, stroking himself to orgasm in secret, late at night in his room.

“O-Oh. That’s...Yeah, Mr. Stark” the boy half-moaned, shaky and almost surprised, like he hadn’t ever expected it to feel this good.

Tony’s own hips nudged forwards, irregardless of his own permission, until he was all but three inches away from grinding against the teen like a...Well. Like a teen. Tony remembered all those youthful days of rutting against his partners like a dog in heat, the teasing friction that layers of clothing offered.

“Can you...Could you go lower? Like, the bottom of my spine? It feels...tight” Peter sounded hesitant, but more in the way that he typically was when asking anything of Tony. It was still fresh on Tony’s mind that it had taken the kid almost a month of being at the Tower to even ask for a drink.

“Yeah, kid. Okay” Tony agreed easily, surprised at how little his voice strained or wavered. He shuffled on his knees to adjust his balance and lowered the placement of his hands, watching Peter’s spine bow under his touch, hips sliding in an arc against his bed.

The short little hitches had Tony tipping forwards without even really registering it, and when a shuffle from Peter had Tony’s hips just barely grazing his ass, they both paused. Tony was about to open his mouth when Peter relaxed again, fingers flexing then twisting in the bedsheets, and he wordlessly continued.

The squirming increased. The moans grew bolder, less held back. Subtle nudges became flat out grinds into Tony’s luxurious sheets, and each torturous movement nudged them together in bare touches.

One particularly heavy press of Tony’s palms had Peter letting out an honest to god whine, hips pushing back against his hips instead of down against the bed, and Tony breathed out heavy, thumbs digging into his muscles. “Good?” He rasped, and Peter whimpered below him, fisting the sheets tightly and grinding back again.

“Peter...”

“I’m sorry. It just...Your hands. The bed” Peter heaved, burying his face into his arms to hide his shame. Tony found himself squeezing Peter’s hips, swallowing thickly as he looked down to see where they were connected, the jut of his hips flush against that plump, round ass he’d been doing his best not to look at for the past fifteen minutes.

“Its okay” he was speaking before he could even think about it, fingers flexing reassuringly in their perfect, fitting hold before he ran his hand down Peter’s spine, pet at his flank. “Happens to the best of us. Just...Don’t ruin my sheets”.

God. What was he saying? This is why Pepper didn’t let him do things. Or meet people anymore. Beneath him Peter’s little body hitched and he turned his head slightly, blinking back at Tony with wide, vulnerable eyes.

“Wha-?”

“Just relax” Tony cut him off, hands drifting to resume his work on that tight little knot at the base of his spine. It looked like Peter was going to protest, but then he lolled his head back into the duvet, nuzzling it with a low groan.

“M-Mr. Stark” the boy dragged out, trembling just ever so slightly under his hold as Tony drove his hips down against the bedding, and pulled them back up against his hips, where his own cock had begun to swell into a thick rise.

“You’re...Hard” Peter squeaked, and Tony ground his teeth, thumbing at a stiff slope of muscle.

“Yeah” he agreed quietly, and was surprised when Peter’s hips drove back against him. His breath stuttered in his lungs and he folded over slightly, gripping at Peter’s hips as a spark of pleasure jumped through his pelvis.

He fucked forwards against it without thinking, pressing down on Peter’s bowed spine, drawing a moan from both of them. “How close are you?” He ground out, rolling his hips languidly to ride the slope of Peter’s firm ass. Beneath him the boy whimpered and rolled his hips in response.

“Close”.

“That the skill of my hands, or the durability of my bedding?” Tony couldn’t help teasing, and Peter shuddered beneath him, head shaking slightly as he refused to answer. Tony couldn’t even feel affronted - He knew the pleasure of good bedding and sturdy mattress.

They began to move together in earnest, rutting with single-minded intent like Tony was eighteen and driven by his cock all over again (he might not be eighteen now, but the latter still largely applies). Tony braced himself, thighs tensed and body arched over Peter’s, riding his ass like it was all he was born to do even as he kept working on Peter’s spine, digging into the meat and bone until one of Peter’s arms bent backwards, searching.

Their fingers interlocked and Tony moved his arm forwards, bringing Peter’s hand back to a more comfortable position as the signs the boy was getting closer to completion became more apparent. Tony’s own pleasure was coiling through his body, taut like a spring about to release. He felt flushed, heady, cock hot and desperate.

“Mr. Stark!” It was pitched, a half-yelp, and then Peter’s body was jerking beneath him, arching and locking up, torn between fucking forwards and pressing back against Tony’s cock as the boy shuddered through his orgasm, coaxed through it by Tony’s hand on the centre of his back, pressing him down into the mattress.

Peter cums with the most breathtaking sound. A moan warped into a cry, shaking and rich with pleasure and emotion. Has the bite heightened everything? Peter’s senses are always so sharp, so raw. How did an orgasm feel, when even the sound of your own breathing could overwhelm you?

When the kid finally, finally slumps down beneath him, still pinned - allowing himself to be pinned - Tony can’t bring himself to chase his own, heat and guilt fighting an equal war in his gut.

“How do you feel?” He bit out, forcing himself to let up some of the weight. Peter had only consented to Tony making him feel good. And even then...Had it really been consent? He kind of felt like the guilt was winning out of the heat.

“I feel good” Peter breathed, head turned to blink at him lazily, sated. “Really good. I feel...Loose”.

The lecherous smirk is dazzling before he can stop it, palm sliding down the gentle slope of Peter’s spine the settle dead centre on that inviting, round ass, thumb pressing just a fraction into the dip of his cheeks, towards a wet, hot heat Tony knows awaits.

“Want to feel even looser?”