#please excuse if things are a little rough for a while while I re-learn

[chocodile]

giving hyden one of those hot wax hand therapy treatments with the most tender care and the most sly look whenever it makes him wince. yeah it stings nepo boy, what are you gonna do about it

I don't think he minds the pain all that much.

[jeonsjiddies]

Not Afraid | jjk (m)

Summary - Jungkook helps you change your flat tire, and teaches you how to let go.

Word Count -  3816

Pairing - Jungkook x reader

Genre - smut

Warnings -  dom!jungkook, fingering, bondage, breast play, oral (f recieving), dirty talk, rough sex

a/n: another re-write from a previous fandom. :)

Driving home from university on a hot Tuesday afternoon, you sang along to the radio at the top of your lungs.You sped down the highway (still following the speed limit- for the most part. Didn’t most cops give a 5mph grace?) when your car started shaking and swerving. You put your flashers on and pulled over underneath an overpass bridge. You got out and realized you had a flat tire. 

“Crap,” you mumbled, pulling out your spare from the back and staring at it.

You didn’t know how to change a tire. You groaned, kicking the stone wall in frustration. You heard a hissing noise from behind some chipped off stones, and out jumped a snake. You screamed, fumbling away from it. Suddenly, a tall man in a black leather jacket appeared. He fearlessly grabbed the snake by the head so it couldn’t bite him, and walked it over to a grassy area, tossing it free.

“Are you oka-” he began when you threw yourself at him, hugging him. 

Your hands then pressed against his chest. 

“Thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you,” you rushed out.

Being pressed against him felt so good. Your hands slid down his chiseled abdomen slowly, mesmerized. You jumped back to reality, your gaze flickering up to his face, startled. You stood there, frozen, gazes locked together, your hands splayed across the top of his jeans. 

“Oh my gosh I’m so sorry,” you squeaked, cheeks heating up as you stumbled away from him and his amused expression. 

“Oh, don’t mind me. I was enjoying the show,” he smirked. 

You almost died right then and there. From this new angle, you saw his deliciously tanned skin, deep brown eyes and razor sharp jawline, but soft, round features. He was gorgeous, erotic, he was…

“Jungkook?” you gasped, recognizing the boy from school. 

“Hey, Y/N.” he grinned.

“Oh my gosh, hi!” you smiled. “What are you doing here?” 

“I saw you were having car trouble and I stopped to make sure you were okay.”  

You and Jungkook weren’t exactly friends, but you were one of the few people  who didn’t treat him like trash, so you were friendly in classes and the hallways.

“I got a flat tire. I have a spare but I don’t know how to change it.” you sighed.

“I can help you with that. Do you have a jack?”  

“Uh…” you looked in the back and shook your head.

“I do, at my place. Come on,” he motioned to his bike. 

He handed you a helmet and you climbed onto the seat behind him, clutching his torso for dear life. Jungkook’s  body felt so good to touch, it made you hold on a little tighter than necessary. He wasn’t even going that fast. He rode down the highway, turning into his apartment complex. You hopped of the bike, your whole body still vibrating from the purr of the engine. 

“Whoa,” you swayed.

“First time?”  

You nodded.

“I’m honored to have been your first ride,” he smirked, making you blush at the implied meaning.

That bike wasn’t the only thing you wanted to ride…  He grabbed the jack from inside, while you looked around.

“Got it,” he said, suddenly standing behind you, his body head radiating onto your back, breath fanning against your ear. 

You visibly shivered, causing him to chuckle.

“Let’s go, princess.”  

You climbed back on the bike, more aware of his body between your legs than before. He rode back to your car and jacked it up, using the tools he’d brought he took off the old tire and put on the new one. He eased your car back to the ground.

“Good as new,” he beamed, “I’ll follow you home just to be sure that it’s all safe.”

“Thank you, Jungkook. You’re amazing,” you gushed.

He blushed and nodded, crawling back onto his bike and following you to your house. He got off the bike and walked up to you.

“Check your tire pressure in a couple days but other than that it seemed to drive fine.”  

“Okay. Do you want a drink or something?” you gestured to your house. “You really saved me today and I just want to repay you.”

“Sure,“ he smiled.

You led him inside, giving him some iced tea.

“Hungry?” you offered him a plate of cookies your mom had left out when she’d gone to night shift. 

“Thanks,” he smiled, taking one and biting in. 

He closed his eyes and let out a low moan that melted your insides. You pressed your thighs together.

“This cookie is orgasmic.” Jungkook told you, and you just giggled nervously.

“Oh, I forgot to give you the grand tour,” you grabbed his hand, pulling him towards the kitchen. 

You let go as soon as you realized what you’d done and showed him the downstairs before heading up the stairs.

“Last but not least, where I sleep,” you said, sitting on the bed.

“Nice.”  

“You’re the first guy that’s been up here,” you admitted.

“Oh, another honor of being your first,” he winked.

You covered your face, laughing.

“I didn’t mean it like that.” 

“But didn’t you, Y/N?” the corner of his lip tugged upwards as he stalked towards you, almost like a predator closing in on its’ prey.

Your throat went dry as he placed his hand on your knee, leaning closer.

“Y/N?” your mom called up the stairs, “honey whose motorcycle is outside?”

Jungkook froze, your eyes popped open wide.

“She’s supposed to be at work.”  

“I’m not supposed to be here, am I?” 

You shook your head.

“Shit,” he mumbled, glancing at the window.  

“Don’t go. I have a plan. Come on.” 

You led him downstairs and stopped in front of your mom.

“Y/N, what-” she stopped and stared at Jungkook,  “Who are you? Why is he here? What were you doing up there?” she accused.

“Jungkook helped me change my flat tire and I didn’t have any cash on me but I wanted to repay him so he followed me here so I could get into my savings jar.” 

Jungkook nodded, furthering your story by pulling out a stack of one dollar bills from his pocket.

“Oh, well thank you… Jungkook…” your mom smiled wearily.

“It’s really no problem, Mrs. Y/L/N.”  

“Would you like to stay for dinner? As a thank you? I got off work early and I was going to make steak,” she offered.

“I’d like that,” Jungkook smiled. “At home it’d be me and a frozen dinner.”

“A growing boy needs a home cooked meal,” she clapped, “if you go back into your room, leave the door open Y/N.”

Your whole face felt hot  and you just nodded, dragging Jungkook up the stairs.

“I’m so sorry,” you groaned.

“Don’t be, she’s sweet.”  

“If you say so,” you mumbled.

You and Jungkook hung out in your room, talking and laughing and getting to know each other better. He told you how he became interested in tattoos, even learning how to tattoo someone himself, though he hadn’t had time to do it professionally with school. Tou told him that you’d never done anything half as exciting as that. The both of you kept moving closer unconsciously, until you were sitting cross legged on your bed, knees touching. You bit your bottom lip nervously. Jungkook squeezed his eyes shut.

“Y/N, it’s taking every bit of self control I’ve got not to attack you right now, please don’t make this any harder than it already is,” he groaned.

“Attack me?” you asked.

Jungkook lowered his voice, giving you a dangerous look. 

“You don’t even know what you’re doing to me, do you? From the moment you touched me at the bridge, I’ve wanted you. Even before that. You’re so kind to me, so pure and sweet. But I see the way you look at me. The way you want me. Then you bring me to your bed and you tease me, but I can’t have you. Your mom is downstairs. If she weren’t here right now, I’d have you screaming my name, begging me for more, I’d fuck you so good you’d be limping for days,” he growled, voice barely audible.

You sucked in a breath, using every ounce of willpower you possessed not to jump on him.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you babygirl?” he purred. “You want my hands all over you, my tongue-”

“Y/N! Jungkook! Dinner,” your mom called.

Your face was hot from Jungkook’s dirty words, and he had to adjust himself before going downstairs. 

“I’m starved,” he smirked, “but I really just want dessert,” he whispered in your ear, nibbling it before walking away. 

You nearly fainted, but you followed him down to the kitchen.  You sat next to him at the table.

“Wow Mrs. Y/L/N, this looks amazing,” Jungkook smiled innocently. 

You  pressed your legs together desperate for any kind of relief. Jungkook smiled, placing a hand on your bare thigh under the table. Your eyes widened, and you looked at him. He just smiled politely, eyes focused ahead on what your mother was saying. Your dad came in and introduced himself. Your parents made idle conversation, they asked questions, but you could barely pay attention with Jungkook’s fingers dancing on your skin, so close to where you wanted him, but not close enough. As you were explaining the events of the day to your father, Jungkook’s fingers found their way past the hem of your shorts. You choked on your water.

“Are you okay?” Jungkook feigned concern.

“I’m fine. Wrong pipe,” you coughed, gripping his knee as a warning, pushing your legs together. 

He easily spread them apart again, because, did you really want him to stop? His fingers slithered past your underwear, teasing your slit. 

“This steak is so moist,” Jungkook grinned.

“Thank you, Jungkook,” your mom smiled.

You rolled your eyes, until he slipped one finger inside you. You bit down on your lip to avoid moaning. Jungkook didn’t even glance your way as he added another, pumping in and out of your heat seamlessly. His arm was barely moving. His thumb  rubbed circles around your clit, and you jumped a little. You dug your nails into his leg as his skilled fingers started moving faster, curling and hitting all the best places, making the electricity in your core build fast. You whimpered quietly as he shifted the angle, hitting your G-spot again.

“Are you okay, honey?” your dad asked.

“Yea-yeah. I just… ohhh.. My head hurts,” you moaned out.

“Do you need to be excused?” your dad asked.

“No…” you choked out breathlessly, “I’m okay.” 

“Okay,” he gave you a concerned look and started asking your mother about her day.

Jungkook leaned over and whispered hotly in your ear.

“Such a naughty girl, you don’t want to get caught do you? But it feels so good, doesn’t it? My fingers deep in your soaking pussy.  You act so innocent, I knew you’d be a dirty girl for me.” he purred quietly, so only you could hear. 

“Jungkook,” you gasped quietly, warning him that your orgasm was quickly approaching.

“Let it go baby, but be quiet.” 

He smirked, quickening the pace of his fingers. You covered your head with your arms, biting down on one to stifle the loud moan that left your lips as you rode out your high on Jungkook’ fingers, shaking from the explosion deep inside your core.

“Y/N?” your mom questioned.

“I think it’s a stress headache,” you croaked out. “Maybe I should go lay down. I’ll walk Jungkook out.”

“Okay honey, feel better. Nice to meet you, Jungkook.”

“Pleasure was mine.”  

“Come again soon,” she told him and he just smirked at you.

“I will.” 

Once you got outside, you hit his arm. 

“You’re such an asshole!” you hissed.

“You loved it.,” he laughed. 

You tugged on his shirt and he stepped closer to you.

“There’s more where that came from baby girl. I’m gonna show you how good I can make you feel,” he growled  “if your parents weren’t watching us from the window, I’d kiss you.”

“Now you’re scared?” you scoffed.

His eyes darkened and he pulled you against him roughly, kissing you hard and fast, making you dizzy. His tongue battled yours and his hands gripped your sides, grinding you into him. It was like a grenade had exploded in your mind, almost as good as the orgasm. He pulled away and licked his lips suggestively.

“I’m not afraid of anything, baby,” he winked, jumping on his bike and riding away.

Over the course of the next few weeks, all you could think about was Jungkook. Jungkook’s lips on yours, his fingers, daydreaming about other areas of his anatomy… All you wanted to do was to see how he could keep his word but he had other ideas. He loved to rile you up, then leave you wanting more, saying “it will be worth the wait baby.” Jungkook would sneak up behind you in the hallway, covering your eyes, whispering in your ear with that husky voice “guess who?”  and you like to tease him too.

“Tae?” You pretend- guessed.

Jungkook spun you around in a flash, pinning you against your locker, capturing your lips in a hot, jealous kiss.

“Does Tae kiss you like that?” Jungkook growled. 

“Well now that you mention it…” 

“Oh you’re so in for it,” his fingers dug into your side and you let out a shriek as he tickled you. 

“Jungkook! Jungkook!” You screamed, laughing. 

“That’s right baby, scream my name. Just how I like it, ” he joked, pulling you into a seemingly innocent hug, if it weren’t for his hot breath murmuring dirty things in your ear. 

You went weak against him and he pressed his hard on into your hips, to help keep you up and also to tease you. You whimpered like an injured puppy, grinding against him, but he pulled away. 

“Mmm… so hot for me baby,” he cooed, “maybe if you behaved and didn’t tease me, I wouldn’t have to tease you.“

“I’ll stop I swear,” You promised. 

He grabbed your ass, pulling you in for a fast kiss. The warning bell rang and he took your hand innocently, walking you to class. This hot and cold had shivers running down your spine. He kissed your forehead and went to his own class. 

Later, as you cuddled in his bed, you finally broke. 

“Babe, you’ve been teasing me for weeks. I want you,” you whined. 

“Okay.” 

“Really? Okay?” you gasped. 

“Yeah, but I want you to beg for it. Beg for me,” he smirked, “tell me how badly you need my big, thick cock in your little wet pussy. Tell me what you want me to do to you.” 

His eyes were dark and dangerous and you were already dripping as you sat up on your knees, looking up at him. 

“Jungkook, please,” you begged, too desperate to be embarrassed, “Please I need you inside me right now. I need to feel your hands on me. I can’t stop thinking about how good your fingers felt inside me. You’re all I think about, I’m going insane. Fuck, please.”  

“Mmm.. that’s it baby girl. You want me to make you feel good?” he purred. 

“Yes, please. Fuck Jungkook, I’m literally begging you. I’ll do anything,” you whimpered. 

“Anything?” 

“Literally anything. I need you that badly.” 

“Strip,” He instructed, standing up and walking over to his closet and pulling something out. 

You did as told without hesitation. Some might call you whipped, but it was more like sexual desperation. You’d been allowed to have a sample, but you needed the real thing. You’d been teased and provoked for weeks, and you were ready to burst. 

“Lay back, baby,” He said softly, and you did.

He pulled out a pair of handcuffs from his pocket, smirking at you.

“Are you ready?”  

Your eyes went wide and you nodded, moving your hands up to the headboard so he could cuff them. 

“Now, this is going to be different, but I want you to stop thinking so much and just feel what I’m doing to you. Can you do that?”  

“Yes,” you breathed out in excitement . 

He pulled out a large bandana, covering your eyes with it and securing it around your head.  You couldn’t even see any light filtering in through the fabric, it was just darkness. You heard Jungkook’ belt buckle and assumed he was undressing. You felt his body hovering over yours. 

“Mmm… you look so fucking good all tied up and ready for me. I’m going to make you feel so amazing baby girl,” he licked a stripe from the sensitive space below your ear down to your collarbone, nibbling gently. 

You felt something soft tickle your breasts, causing your nipples to perk up. The strange soft object was ghosted across your alert nipples and you bit your lip and shivered. 

“Do you trust me to take care of you?”  

You didn’t skip a beat, “yes.” 

“Good girl.”  

Everywhere the soft tickling sensation went, Jungkook lips followed close behind. He sucked on your breasts, teeth gently tugging on your erect nipples. You groaned quietly. His wet mouth on your sensitive skin was almost too much. He licked a bold line across them, blowing cold air on the wet skin, and you shook in anticipation.  Jungkook treated your body like a temple, worshipping every inch of your skin, telling you how flawless you were, how much he craved you. His mouth slowly, tantalizingly slowly, worked its way down your body, leaving little love bites, kissing and licking and teasing. You felt the soft tickle on your heat, so ready for his mouth to follow, but it didn’t. He teased your slit with the soft touches and kissed your mouth tenderly. 

“I wish you could see how beautiful you look, all open and ready for me. You’re a fucking goddess, y/n. I bet you taste so good, so sweet,” he told you, nibbling on your bottom lip. 

Your mouth fell open in awe at how his words affected you, how even a simple kiss had you writhing, how not being able to see made everything so much more intense, or maybe it was just Jungkook. Jungkook’s mouth left yours, and you missed his body heat pressed against yours until you felt him press soft kisses at your entrance. Finally, he was where you needed him. His tongue darted out unexpectedly, licking and swirling against your sensitive clit. You moaned quietly. His fingers snaked their way into your dripping core, curling just right, just like they had that night at dinner, only better. 

You arched your back off the bed, trying to handle your fingers in his hair, but your movements were halted by the cuffs. Jungkook fingered you quickly, pumping in and out hard and fast, but his tongue danced slowly on your little nub, the different tempos making your head spin. You were already close, his magic fingers working inside you, his delicious tongue bringing you so close to the edge. Your high crashed over you and your breath hitched, you couldn’t even make sound, just sucked in your breath as the most amazing feeling washed over you. 

Jungkook continued working on your pussy until he knew your high had come back down. Your breathing was labored and he grinned, loving what he could do to you. You felt completely spent, and you thought that was the end of it, until you heard a foil wrapper being opened. You weren’t sure if you could handle anything else with how sensitive your clit felt, but you sure as hell weren’t going to pass up this opportunity. Jungkook lined himself up at your sensitive, dripping entrance. He reached up and took off your blindfold, and the first thing you saw was his gorgeous face smiling down at you, meeting your eyes. 

“I wanted to be able to see your eyes for this part.” He told you, leaning down to kiss you gently, slowly sliding inside of you. 

You gasped, feeling over sensitive and wanting more at the same time. Jungkook moved slowly at first, letting you adjust, then he started going faster. The faster Jungkook snapped his hips, the louder you moaned, Jungkook encouraging you obviously. 

“That’s it baby, let it out, I want the neighbors to know who’s making you feel this good.”  

“Fuck, Jungkook, oh…” you nearly screamed “faster please please please.” 

Jungkook pumped in and out of you faster, rougher, causing the headboard to smack against the wall with a loud thud each time. Your whole body rocked along with the force of his thrusts, and you thought you might actually faint. You were flying, soaring, floating, you couldn’t describe it. You were in another world with Jungkook deep inside you, filling an empty space inside you that you didn’t even know existed. It was like you were incomplete until this moment, and Jungkook became a part of you, closing the gap. Your high was coming again, even more intense than the last. You could barely breathe, you couldn’t even get his name out of your mouth to warn him, you couldn’t do anything but feel the ridiculous ecstasy, bliss, delicious feeling that swallowed you whole. 

You screamed out, the most intense orgasm of your life surrounding you in immeasurable pleasure. Jungkook came soon after, and slowed his pace after riding out your highs together. He collapsed next to you, breathing as ragged as your own. You couldn’t move, couldn’t speak for a moment. You glanced over at him, looking like a snack- no, a five course meal- skin shimmering with sweat. He was perfection and you couldn’t believe he was really here, that you’d really just had sex with him. But it had been more than sex, it was hot and sensual and overwhelming and erotic but it was also two souls intertwining, like coming home after being gone for so long. It was like you belonged there with Jungkook, and you were finally where you were meant to be.  

“Jungkook?” You asked breathlessly.

“Hmm?” He looked at you, worn and sleepy. 

“You’re fucking amazing.”  

“Fucked you that good?” he laughed. 

“Gosh yes, but like… all of you. You’re an amazing person. I’m really glad I met you.”  

He gathered you up in his arms, kissing the top of your head and holding you close. 

“I’m glad I met you too, y/n. You’re incredible,” he cooed. 

You didn’t even try to get up for hours, you knew your legs wouldn’t work after the pounding you’d just had, but you didn’t want to move anyway. The only place you wanted to be was wrapped up in Jungkook’ arms, where you were safe and cherished and not afraid of anything. 

[chierafied]

The Gingerbread Gaffe

Rated T.

1337 words.

Happy Holidays, everyone! 💙💙

***

Even though it wasn’t a Japanese holiday, Kagome had always loved Christmas. It was a love she’d inherited from her mother. Mrs Higurashi had been charmed by the magic of it, of the atmosphere, of the thought of family coming together, of giving out presents and seeing the joy of children. 

The Christmas in the Higurashi household was not a typical Japanese Christmas, but rather a blend of the New Year celebration and a more western kind of Christmas. After all, the shrine was always busy for New Year, so it made sense to celebrate it a bit early and Christmas was the perfect excuse.

This year had been a little rough on everyone. 

Shippou’d had a difficult time in the Kitsune school. He’d been stuck for a long while, unable to advance to the next level and was feeling frustrated about the lack of progress. Sango was pregnant again, and this time she was having a hard time. Miroku had needed to pitch in a lot to look after their growing brood of children, many of whom had been sick this autumn and winter, one after another. Kaede was ageing, forced to deal with more aches and pains, especially now with the weather so cold. Kagome was so glad she had Rin to help her with the everyday tasks. 

It was clear that a little Christmas cheer was needed to brighten everyone’s winter. And Kagome knew just what to do. 

First, she got some fabric, in bright colours and cheerful patterns. She wasn’t the craftiest person, but a few simple stuffed toys for Miroku’s and Sango’s children weren’t too difficult to sew together. 

Kagome had a use for the leftover fabric as well. She used it to sew omamori for Rin, Kaede and Shippou. She also included a lock of her hair with the prayer slip inside the amulet she made for Shippou. Maybe it would help preserve her scent longer, in case Shippou would miss her while he was out studying in the kitsune school.  

For Sango and Miroku she wove a few baskets — she’d been learning how from one of the women in the village. A growing number of children meant a growing number of things they would need, and the baskets could come in handy.

That left only two more people to give gifts to. Inuyasha was easy enough to please. Feeding him would make him happy. The last one, though… She wasn’t at all sure what to get for him. But maybe if food was the key to Inuyasha’s good mood, it could work on him, too?

Well, there was only one way to find out.

He was the last one left to get his present, as he visited the village sporadically. But to Kagome’s luck, he wandered in in his typical unaffected manner less than a week after mid-winter. 

She felt his approach and was waiting in front of her hut, the pouch in her hands, as he strolled in. 

“Hello, Sesshoumaru!”

He stopped and quirked his brow.

“Miko,” he acknowledged her, inclining his head.

“Do you have a moment?”

He angled towards her, his stare boring into her. “I may, if you wish so.”

“I won’t bother you for long, I promise. It’s just, you know, it’s been a hard year for all so I wanted to celebrate the winter and do something nice for everyone and anyway… these are for you.” Kagome offered him a tremulous smile and held out the pouch.

Sesshoumaru’s gaze dropped down to the pouch. His nose twitched. He closed their distance, his steps so quick she could barely track them. 

He snatched the bag and dangled it from his claws. Took a long, delicate sniff. Then, he opened the pouch and peered in. He pulled out a round cookie and brought it to his nose.

“What is this, miko?” he queried, his gaze flicking to study her. 

“Gingerbread cookies. Well, kind of. See, I —”

“This is food?” he said.

“Yeah. I hope you like sweets.” Kagome flashed him a quick, hesitant smile.

“You are gifting me food, Kagome?”

There was a note in his voice Kagome couldn’t quite grasp. But hearing it had her heartbeat quicken and her tongue run rampant again.

“Baking gingerbread cookies with mama was my favourite part of Christmas growing up. So I tried to replicate it, the best as I could. I didn’t have all the right spices and I’m not sure if the flour really works and the oven’s really different here, of course, but…”

“You baked these yourself?” He interrupted.

Kagome brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, to give her shaky fingers something to do.  “Ah, yeah. I did. I hope you like them.”

Sesshoumaru dropped the cookie back into the pouch. He straightened his back and bowed his head, before his eyes locked with hers.

“Thank you. I will accept this present.”

“Oh.” Kagome blinked at the formal words. “Great!”

“And I am sure,” he continued, his fingers reaching to cup her cheek, “that they will be delectable.”

“Ummm,” Kagome managed, her skin flushing beneath his warm fingertips. He hovered in front of her, his eyes intent on hers. Kagome cleared her throat as she wondered what had brought on this weird 180.

Still baffled by his behaviour, words finally popped onto her tongue.

“Thanks. I wasn’t sure if they would be to your taste. Inuyasha said they were good but he would eat anything so you can’t really —” The words fell away a moment after his hand did. Her flushed cheek suddenly felt very cold.

Sesshoumaru’s youki flared, prickling her skin. The frigid anger creeping into his eyes sent a shiver skittering down her spine. 

“Inuyasha?” The name came as a low, rumbling growl. “You gave these to Inuyasha as well?”

“Well, yeah. I gave presents to everyone. That’s the whole point of Christmas.” 

“Did everyone get these gingerbreads?” Sesshoumaru demanded. 

Kagome shifted her weight,  shrinking a little under his frosted fury. “No. I only baked those for you and Inuyasha.”

“I thought you were no longer together with the hanyou. Or interested in him,” he said coolly.

Kagome’s pitch rose as exponentially as her confusion did at his comment. “I’m not! We broke up over a year ago.” 

Sesshoumaru blinked slowly, then brooded at the pouch resting on his palm. “Why did you gift these to me?”

Kagome shrugged. “I thought you’d like to have a present. I hoped they would make you happy.”

Sesshoumaru’s shoulders eased and silence smothered them, long and awkward.

Kagome stood, hunched and more unsure of herself than ever. Somewhere deep down, bitter tears of disappointment threatened to burn. She’d only wanted to do a nice thing. What was so wrong with that? Why had he got so upset all of a sudden? Surely he didn’t hate Inuyasha that much. She’d thought they rather got along lately — compared to how they’d been before, anyway. 

“I will accept this present,” Sesshoumaru said at last, startling Kagome out of her rambling thoughts.

“Good.” Kagome tried for a smile but wasn’t sure she succeeded. “Great.”

Sesshoumaru’s gaze returned to her, the look in his golden eyes unreadable and intense. “May I reciprocate?”

Kagome’s head tilted in confusion. “Umm… sure?”

His hand came up to cup her cheek again, the hold surprisingly tender. Something fluttered in Kagome’s stomach as her confusion turned into nervousness. 

Sesshoumaru leaned in. His lips brushed against her, soft and warm. Then, he settled into a firm and toe-curlingly persuasive kiss.

He pulled back after a moment, or a thousand. Kagome wasn’t sure how time worked anymore. Or anything else, for that matter, including her brain.

While she tried to catch her breath and her wits, a slow smile bloomed on his lips.

“You may inform me later if you will accept,” Sesshoumaru intoned, his voice a low purr that had gooseflesh flare on Kagome’s skin. 

Then, he straightened, withdrew his hand and stepped back. 

Without any further explanation, Sesshoumaru walked away, leaving a speechless Kagome behind.

[sgtjbbhasmyheart]

Drunk Texting Is(n’t) Bad for Your Health- Chapter Four

Series Summary: Talk about your unconventional meet-cute! Bucky receives a text by mistake requesting he prove he's not Reader's sister. The easy dialogue between Reader and Bucky sparks a natural friendship, but could it lead to more? Bucky still deems himself unworthy of any form of affection or love. Reader is hellbent to prove him wrong. With the help of some (meddling) friends along the way, Bucky may get his happily-ever-after after all.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 2960

Warnings: Itsy bitsy amount of angst, bad language words, mentions of phone sex and masturbation

A/N: divider credit- @firefly-graphics

DO NOT copy or replicate without my permission

“James?”

You held your breath after you uttered the name into the phone’s speaker. Your heart galloped at the thought of actually speaking to him. You’d be lying if you had said you hadn’t imagined how his voice sounded. You pictured something deep and raspy but drawled and sweet.

In the last five days, you’d imagined many things about James. Not just the sound of his voice, but his laugh, too. Rich and soothing. And of his scent- distinctly his own or a fresh, citrusy cologne of bergamot and tangerines. You imagined his rough, calloused hands sliding over your skin in slow motion.

And how he kissed. You daydreamed about that, too. Often. You couldn’t count how many times you’d stared at his sorry excuse for a selfie. You found yourself drawn to it daily. It was only part of his face, but what you could see was ruggedly handsome. His lips looked soft and delectable. You pictured yourself nibbling on his bottom lip, deepening its color to blush pink.

A sharp sigh escaped through your nose as you waited for his reply. Maybe he hadn’t heard you the first time? “James?” you asked again. “Hello?”

No response.

You pulled the phone away from your ear to make sure you were still connected. The call-time counter ticked ominously second by second on the screen. You tucked the device back under your hair to find the call was still active.

Did he get cold feet and change his mind last minute? He hadn’t hung up yet, so you weren’t exactly sure why he was waiting. Maybe he was tongue-tied? Or hadn’t expected you to pick up?

“Did you butt-dial me, James?” you laughed, trying to dispel some of your anxiety.

You heard a muffled “ shit” and two beeps. You glanced at the phone’s screen again, and call ended flashed in bold white.

Ignoring the hang-up, you immediately re-dialed James. The line rang and rang. And rang.

You weren’t confident you were going to speak with James, the longer the rings continued. He wasn’t ready to talk to you yet, and that was okay. It had only been five days.

Five days wasn’t long enough to build a bond over stupid Would You Rather? questions or form a simmering crush on a stranger that made your stomach flip whenever he sent you a funny cat meme. Nope. Five days was much too short of time for anything.

A generic voicemail greeting clicked over and rudely beeped at you. You took a deep breath and quickly thought of a reason to be calling someone who didn’t want to talk. “Hey, James. Just calling you back. It’s (Y/N), by the way. I’m not sure if you meant to call the first time or if sneaky ninjas have accosted you and somehow did a crazy pocket dial. Y’know, because of the whole military-trained assassin athlete mchottie thing. I just wanted to make sure you’re okay. And no pressure! If you’re not comfortable talking on the phone, I completely understand. I’m sweating bullets just talking to your voicemail box.” You chuckled nervously. You were starting to babble.

“Anyway,” you continued. “I hope you’re well. And don’t leave me hangin’. I really wanna know if you’d rather sneeze every hour or burp when you saw a pretty girl.” You laughed again. “Goodbye, James.”

You mashed the end call button and face-planted into one of the throw pillows on your couch. You groaned loudly into the fabric, chastising yourself in your head. If he didn’t want to talk before, he most definitely wouldn’t want to now. You shook your head in disbelief. Sneaky ninjas, seriously? What. The. Fuck?

Hours later, while in the middle of a Say Yes to the Dress marathon (dammit Robyn!) and a self-induced diabetic coma of ice cream and chips, your phone vibrated. You swat at it on the coffee table with a foot, only to realize you lack the limberness or the dexterity in your toes to retrieve the phone. As a result, it tumbled to the ground as you groaned in displeasure. Cursing your luck, you bent forward to pick it up. Awakening the phone’s black screen, a text popped into view.

James Sorry

Your heart lurched for a moment. With every second that had passed since you’d left your voicemail for James, the least likely you’d felt he’d call back or even respond. Hence the pity party with Ben & Jerry and Cool Ranch Doritos.

James My so-called “friends” grabbed my phone from me and led to accidentally calling you.

Ahh, the old “invade-your-friend’s-privacy” maneuver, you thought, shaking your head.

James I didn’t want to hang up on you, but I’m not quite ready to talk yet. I like what we have.

Your heart flopped. You liked what you had, too, but a small part of you- a dumb part- wanted just a little more.

Shaking off the feeling of longing churning your insides, you thumbed over the screen to reply.

You No worries, James. We can go at whatever speed you like.

It was weird to have the guy, for once, want to take things slow. Usually, it was always you pumping the brakes in the relationship. Was this even a relationship, though? Were all the texting and personal questions leading somewhere? Or were you bound to end up friends with an interesting story to tell your other friends?

Not allowing your negative thoughts to curtail the joy of finally texting James again, you quickly punched out:

You I’m just glad you’re okay and not being held for ransom somewhere.

James It would take a whole horde of ninjas to take me down.

You giggled at the confidence contained in this one text, but talking to a girl on the phone threw him for a loop. We are definitely back in junior high, you thought.

You You sound awfully confident for a man who wouldn’t talk to a friend on the phone.

James You don’t want to talk to me.

You pinched your eyebrows together in frustration to form a crease between them. Was he serious?

You Sure, I do. I have a bet going with myself on how your voice sounds. Is it deep and masculine or high-pitched like you sucked in helium?

James Which are you betting on?

You pulled your bottom lip in by your teeth, biting softly. You smirked as you thought of the two options. The former would be nice, but the latter would be pretty damn funny.

You I mean, deep and masculine is very desirable. Listening to the low timbre of a man’s voice is very relaxing for me. But, considering the ridiculous “selfie” you sent me, I’m placing my money on high-pitched.

James What was wrong with my selfie?!

Somehow, you knew that would get him worked up.

You Well, for starters: I can only see, like, part of your face! Did a blind person teach you how to take them??

You And secondly, there clearly wasn’t enough “Blue Steel.” With cheekbones and pouty lips like yours and a chiseled jaw, I’d be blue-steeling the shit out of all my selfies!

A wave of remorse washed over you once you hit send. Had you really compared him to Zoolander? Not only had you objectified him by mentioning how aesthetically pleasing he was (let’s face it- he’s really, really, really ridiculously good looking), but you may have criticized him for his terrible selfie abilities. At that moment, as you waited for the inevitable “fuck off” text to come through, you wished for a giant sinkhole to appear under your apartment and swallow you whole. What were you thinking?

James First off, I’m a selfie amateur. My past line of work limited my contact and/or exposure to the outside world. I didn’t learn what a selfie even was until recently. Remember, I’m also a man of mystery. I’m trying to keep up appearances and can’t reveal too much.

James What is “Blue Steel”? I’m not very pop-culture savvy unless it happened before 1944.

James Did you just call me pretty??

Your cheeks flushed with the heat of a thousand suns. He called you out as you expected him to do.

You Uh...

You Are we gonna talk about the fact you said you didn’t know about pop culture after 1944?? You are a grandpa!

James Nice try with the subject change! Admit it- you think I’m pretty.

You rolled your eyes. Of course, that would be the thing he focused on out of the whole conversation.

You I have no idea what you’re talking about.

If all else fails--deny, deny, deny.

James Right. Sure about that, doll?

Your pulse spiked.

You never did like pet names before you met James, but doll had a goo-ing effect on you for some reason. Everything seemed to turn to mush whenever he mentioned the word.

You Absolutely. I have no reason to believe that if you weren’t a military-trained assassin athlete mchottie, you’d be a male model. None what-so-ever.

James Uh-huh. I’m going to pretend that you aren’t lying through your teeth and getting back to our scintillating game of Would You Rather?

James I’d burp every time I saw a pretty dame, by the way. I wouldn’t want to take my chances with sneezing in my sleep. Would you rather eat only fruits or vegetables for one year?

Several nights after the voicemail incident, you were sitting in Penelope with Robyn after work. She wanted to meet up to decide which centerpieces worked best for the reception. Scattered across the table were three samples she and Kevin had narrowed it down to. With your thumb, while playing with a corner of the hand-drawn example closest to you, a sigh escaped your nose.

Your sister’s talent mesmerized you. Each storyboard showed the intricate detail of the flowers and candles themselves and what the tables would look like next to each other with every centerpiece. You were in awe.

“These are so good, Robbie! They must have taken forever to put together,” you said, admiring a different sample on the table.

“Nah,” she replied, brushing the compliment aside. “Just an afternoon’s time last week.”

“Well, shit. I hope they’re paying you the big bucks at work.”

She quirked an eyebrow devilishly as she reached for her drink. “You know it,” she jested before taking a sip.

You laughed at her cheekiness. Robyn had always been a go-getter. One of the many attributes you loved about her. Never took no for an answer.

“Soooo,” she drawled as she set her glass down. “How have you been?”

You looked up swiftly, eyeing her suspiciously before returning your gaze to the storyboard in your hands. “I’m still alive if that’s what you’re asking.” You set the drawing down to take a drink from your glass. “Haven’t been murdered yet, but the night is still young.”

Robyn rolled her eyes at your petulance. “You know I worry about you. Are you still texting James?”

You smiled sweetly. “Each day that goes by, you act more and more like Mom. You know that?”

Robyn scoffed. “I do not!”

She could deny it all she wanted, but Robyn was turning into the spitting image of your mother. You laughed again. “You do too. Even down to the eye roll.”

She folded her arms over her chest, waiting for you to answer her question.

Two could play this game.

You wiped the corner of your mouth with your napkin unhurriedly. “If you must know, yes, James and I are still texting.”

“Has he sent any dick pics or asked for nudes?” Robyn asked earnestly.

“Yup. We engage in wildly pornographic phone sex every night.”

Robyn glanced around the restaurant with eyes wide as saucers, making sure none of the other patrons heard you. “(Y/N), I’m serious! Has he propositioned you?”

You huffed a small laugh. “Nope,” you admitted. “In fact, he’s the one that wants to take things slow. He accidentally called me the other day and hung up from jitters.” Robyn didn’t need to know the full truth.

“The jitters?” Robyn queried.

“Yeah. I even called him back, but he let it go to voicemail.”

“Then, he must be weird or ugly.”

You grimaced at her assumption. “Ew, Robbie. Don’t be gross,” you chastised. “He’s the opposite of ugly. I might even go as far as to call him handsome.”

“How? You don’t know what he looks like,” Robyn questioned.

You took a quick sip of your drink, holding up a finger. “Au, contraire mon frère. He sent me a selfie in the very beginning.”

Robyn looked at you, perplexed. “You know you just called me your brother, right?”

You waved a hand at her to dismiss her accusation. “Ma soeur just doesn’t have the same ring to it.” You pulled your phone out to offer proof.

“You can barely see his face!” she exclaimed. “What if he’s horribly disfigured on the other side? Or missing an arm?”

You shrugged. “Then, he’s missing an arm.” You got a distant look in your eyes as you recalled the last ten days of texting with James. “He’s different, Robbie. He’s smart and funny and caring. Polite. It feels like he has an old soul. He calls me doll for chrissakes!”

“Are you sure he isn’t some crusty, old man?” Robyn gagged at the thought.

“No, I don’t,” you chuckled in response. The faraway look returned after a moment. “To me, he’s just James.”

Realization dawned on Robyn’s face, lighting her up like a light bulb. “Oh, my god. You like him.”

“Well, yeah,” you acknowledged, “he’s my friend.”

“No. You like him like him.”

Your face reddened quickly with the awareness of your feelings. They weren’t real, were they? Shaking your head, you replied, ”Nothing will happen, Robbie. It’s just a crush.”

Skeptically, she agreed, “Uh-huh.”

“What?”

“I believe that as much as I welcome a cold sore on my wedding day.” She scrunched her nose at the thought of a gross, red blemish on her face for her big day.

“Fine,” you acquiesced. “If I fall head over heels, madly in love with James by your wedding day, I’ll owe you a hundred bucks.”

Robyn raised a sculpted brow in interest. “I’m listening.”

“One hundred dollars. End of negotiation,” you stated. “I don’t have a spare hundred bucks, so it will be a motivator not to fall for James. Easy peasy, lemon squeezy.”

She smiled smugly, shaking her head in disbelief. “Uh-huh.”

“Will you stop saying that?” you said, throwing a piece of lettuce at her face. “You definitely sound like Mom.”

Robyn huffed in annoyance, back-handing your shoulder softly. “Shuddup! I do not!”

You chortled heartily at the mini tantrum she was throwing about becoming Mom. You’d say anything at this point to get her to forget about you and James.

In all honesty, there was no you and James. Not really. You were friends, but could you move past that?

He was hiding something.

Something big.

And it wasn’t part of the whole “man of mystery” persona, either. James was holding back.

He had a hard time giving up anything personal to you that went beyond his likes and dislikes, which led you to believe he had found it difficult to trust.

It angered you deeply without really knowing why. Something in his past had sparked the inability. You only wish you knew what.

Deep down, you could really see yourself falling for James, and that scared you to death.

Breaking you from your reverie, Robyn piped up, “You know, James is probably jerking off to your voicemail.”

“Oh, absolutely!” you retorted, both of you dissolving into a giggling fit.

After leaving Robyn with a clear choice for centerpieces, you made your way back home. After a fifty-minute subway ride, you popped into the corner bodega for some essentials for the coming week.

Sauntering up the stairs to your third-floor walk-up, you steadied your armful of groceries with each step. It had been a long week, and now with the revelation of how you felt about James clouding your mind, a glass of wine, ice cream, and a bubble bath sounded good right about now.

You could barely see over the bags and juggled them precariously. As you stepped onto your floor, you recognized the voice of your next-door neighbor down the hall. He was talking with someone, but you couldn’t tell with whom or what about.

Blindly, you called out, “Hey, Peter? Can you be a lifesaver and help a neighbor out?” You heard the scuffle of footsteps over tile rush toward you.

Sighing in relief, you relinquished two bags to the arms reaching out. “Thanks, Pete! You’re a pe-”

You stopped mid-sentence when your view was finally cleared. Your sixteen-year-old neighbor wasn’t standing before you but a tall man with chestnut hair tied in a knot. Your lips parted slightly as your eyes widened to take in the figure’s full breadth holding your groceries.

Your eyes flicked to Peter as everything came back to focus. He was adjusting your other two bags in his arms.

“Miss (Y/L/N), this is Mr. Barnes from my Stark internship. He’s a friend. He was helping me with some history homework,” Peter explained, gesturing to the hulking man standing outside your apartment door.

“Peter,” you admonished, “how many times-” Last names weren’t meant to be spoken by friends slash neighbors.

Peter winced. “Right! Sorry, (Y/N)!” he apologized. “This is Bucky.”

Recognition crossed your face at the name. Smiling, you stuck out your hand in front of you. “Bucky Barnes, it’s nice to meet you.”

Bucky shifted one of your bags in his arms to reach out his hand. He smiled softly, “ Li-likewise.”  

Chapter Three | Chapter Five

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[honorable-wanderings]

Word of Honor - Episode 2 Part 2 - Mirror Lake has more Fire than expected

In an interesting twist of fate Zhou Zishu decides to take the nice munchkin up on his offer to crash at his place for a while.

Thumbs up my dood

----------

Now the fuck are these guys?

Oh cool. Thanks.

---------

See? Children chants are creepy! Always!

But especially when driven by plort! (plort was a typo but I’m Keeping it.)

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Finally people treating our man with common decency and respect! Who knew he just needed a fancy bookmark?

Oop. Nevermind

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

I have discovered the joys of fucking with people and I’m never going back again

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A fuck this guy again. I’m assuming we’re not supposed to like him? But I don’t like him either way. He has no...  je ne sais quoi

He boring. Basic. Bland.

It ain’t good.

----------

Oh and also you know how you wanted us to keep tabs on Zhou ZiShu? Oh well um.. it’s going great! Great! Yeah... except for... we can’t find him.

-----------

Well if this ain’t a whole ass mood?

-----------

Midnight already? Time for the pain pins to poke me painfully!

This sure is a weird version of Cinderella

gross

----------

Okay okay so normally the 7 torture nails block your chi? I’m understanding? So you can no longer do martial arts. And he would rather die than lose all his martial arts so he put the nails in slowly so that he could still have SOME of his martial arts. But the point of the nails is still that he wants to die and feels he deserves to be punished as well? Right? So having his martial arts helps mediate the pain which lessons the punishment

and if it weren’t for the punishment aspect couldn’t he have just like... faked the nails? Or would they have been able to tell? I mean this is all dramatic and all but where are your motivations Zhou ZiShu?

work with me here

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Hey?! That’s not sunlight?!?

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Love me a good silhouette shot

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And suddenly everything is on fire???

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Rude

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After watching like 4 people get killed in front of him and a lot of fire and ransacking our protragonists finally thinks perhaps he should get himself involved.

----------

How is everything a fucking boomerang???

-----------

Pffffff I love it

Tunk thunk

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In another interesting development, the boat man from before is important?????

Also our boy is doing his best with that hat

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Okay I know he’s like a master of disguise and all but like he doesn’t seem to be doing much to actually... hide? Still love his wiggly sword style

----------

Um take the kid and fucking run maybe????

---------

*stalks you from a not very inconspicuous distance*

Didja miss me?

No

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Hate to see you leave but love to watch you go

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Fuck I hate being disarmed.

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This place looks strangely similar to the woodshed...

---------

The fuck are you?

Wouldn’t you like to know?

Yes I would. That’s why I asked

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There’s just nothing quite like a near death experience to bring people together.

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Take this kid and run!

But sir, you don’t seem to understand! I am the Best Boy! I simply cannot just leave you to die.

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Don’t worry kid! You can’t get in trouble anymore! Your dad is fuckin dead! Surely that’ll bring you some comfort!

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Random Local Boatman is surprisingly honorable and happens to be in debt to the father of the kid who was nice to you that morning.

Life sure is weird.

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He doing him best

---------

Though it is absolutely understandable, he reacts to being touched by that paper the way I react to walking into a spider web.

-------

Gramps is a badass

-----------

I do have to say these guys do seem to be much better trained than the usual evil henchmen. And you have to appreciate their aesthetic.

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Seriously!! The best boy!!!!!

This man has helped in a little bit exactly once to repay him for his own kindness an this little teenager is willing to just die for him without hesitation.

Like no, son, the two old men are doing this so that YOU live. You have it backwards.

----------

Surpriiiiise I’m stalking you too!

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Oh no the henchmen are falling into the drawing things out to emotionally torture their prey thing. Don’t y’all know that giving the protagonist time to recover and/or study your moves is how you die? Did you even GO to henchman school?

----------

ahahahahahhahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha

Just.. omg. The noise he made. “Dwaaah!!!”

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

Okay kid I know you’re young and under a lot of stress and never really got into the whole martial arts training thing but grandpa is doing better than you literally laying down and covered in cuts. Just sayin

----------

Aw nuts

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

*ding*

Please take your protagonist out of the oven as cooktime has been completed.

----------

The fighting editing style seems to be a weird splice of nice crisp slowmotion view of the action and spliced together jump cuts and zooms that make for an odd kinda hard to follow combination. But at least I guess they tend to end on ‘cool pose x”

----------

“Hey, Beggar! You’re good at martial arts. Somehow this surprises me even though I already knew that???”

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Unexpected trust fall ends better than anticipated

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Das gaee

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He’s bendin’ over backwards for you!!

--------

Unexpected but definitely varied emotional investments on the fact that Gramps is dying.

----------

Look at him being all humble.

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Ooh he could be in a medical drama. That is the perfect like sad close your eyes and head shake no I’m sorry he’s not gonna make it. Bravo.

Very delicate.

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“Don’t fuckin’ touch me”

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I’m guilt tripping you into a found family and you’re gonna like it punk

---------

Sick dude, whats your name? Shit no one’s asked me that before somehow I’m not ready..

Uh.uh... Zhou Xu.

Nailed it.

“Zhou Xu? Naw that doesn’t sound right.”

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

May you learn from this never to underestimate, rob, and otherwise harass your local old boat man for you never know when he may force you through guilt and honor into taking on a ward and a quest under penalty of being haunted by his old ass ghost forever

----------

Uncle Li has died and most of the group is much more upset about it than they would have anticipated that morning.

Poor ChenLing is having a rough day.

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

RIP Uncle Li. So much for living a carefree couple of years lying drunk in the sun.

It looks like even now you can’t escape your responsibilities Zhou Xu.

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

Group of hereto-unknown men arrive in poor time to stop the bonfire

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

“What’s wrong?” Um... maybe... fire??

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

I say again, thank you for labeling the people I’m supposed to remember.

Also, why did y’all have to wait for orders before checking out the fuckin boats?

Y’all dumb.

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

Hey, Wen KeXing, Not trying to throw off your groove or anything but maybe a funeral isn’t the best time for flirting? Perhaps? Maybe?

I know you don’t have an ‘off’ switch but maybe a pause button?

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

“are you done?”

“Never.”

----------

It deadass took y’all this long to introduce yourself? You’ve been stalking him all this time and you never thought to go “btw my name Wen KeXing? Comment t’appelles tu?” Come on man

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

Our best boy is having his not best day. D:

Don’t worry. Your new family will stalk/care for you.

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

“A-Xiang! Make some food!” “No shit Sherlock I already did.” “My ideas are the best. :D”

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

Eat your food!

Eat your food!

Eat your food!!

Eat your FOOD!!!

EAT YOUR FOOD!!!!

WILL SOMEONE PLEASE EAT YOUR GODDAMN FOOD?

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

“Oh my GOD we get it you can fucking read! Oh my god.”

---------

If I prove I can read too will you pass me a damn pancake?

Fuck yeah.

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

GOD DAMN IT SOMEONE EAT FOR THE LOVE OF FUCK

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

Um excuse you this group only has room for one little bitch and it ain’t fuckin you, you hear me little girl?

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

I am very sorry. Thank you for saving my life. I would like to re-assert my status as “best boy”.

HEY WHAT THE FUCK????

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

Wen KeXing: 👀

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

Please increase your friendship level before asking personal questions.

---------

Nya Nya you were useless when your home was burned to the ground and your family was killed waaaaah how pathetic are you!!

Can you fucking not?

My B.

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

BEST BOY INJURED THIS IS NOT A DRILL

----------

Our Man Zhou ZiShu respects bodily autonomy!

Do not touch my fuckin’ boy or I will fight you!

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

And we end the episode with Wen KeXing being horny on main!

Sir, keep it together. There are children present.

[verai-marcel]

This Is Perfection (RDR2 Fanfic, Javier x F!Reader, Biker AU, 18+)

This is part of the series Ride Through My Heart. Read the other parts here.

Summary: You are an intern at a photography studio, and lately you've been crushing on the male model that works with your boss. Javier is sex on legs and your eyes are drawn to him every time he's near. On top of his looks, he's also kind and funny, which made you doubly fall for him. Little did you know, he's had his eye on you too, for he knows your secret identity: a semi-popular cosplayer on the convention circuit. 

Author’s Notes: Trying another Javier x F!Reader fic because he deserves love too. The title of this fic is yet another obscure lyric from a popular song, so try and guess! Also I’m not in the photography or modelling industry, so most of that stuff is just conjecture and internet research.

Tags: fluff, romance, gentle to passionate to rough sex, mild dirty talk, neck grabbing (but no choking), some use of a different language

AO3 Link is here, sweetheart.

Word Count: 4457

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

“See you next week, Javier.”

“Later Charles,” Javier threw over his shoulder as he left Charles’ cat café. He finished his latte, jaywalking across the two lane road to get to his bike. Bright red, his Ducati Streetfighter was his prized possession, his baby, his joy. When he wasn’t working, he loved to take his motorcycle to the nearby lake and ride around the backroads, enjoying the scenery.

But lately, he had no excuse to go out. He felt he had overbooked himself this month, running from one photo shoot to another. He had to sleep, had to eat properly and work out so that he looked his best, and that cut out practically all of his free time. Feeling the stress steadily creep up his spine and into his brain, his only breaks were his weekly meetings with his friends, which he could count as business since he was their marketing manager. Self-appointed, of course.

He only left Sunday for himself, which he had been using for personal and wardrobe maintenance. Javier was nothing if not meticulous about his look. He had to be, when it was the product he was selling. But lately, even his Sundays were being booked with side jobs. 

He chucked the empty latte cup into the trash and got onto his bike. It was Sunday morning and he had once again broken his rule and picked up an extra gig at the beach by the lake. He almost hadn't taken the job, except that there was a lady working today that he absolutely wanted to see. 

***

You were sitting inside a minivan with the sliding door open, cords coming out of your laptop and hooked up to a power strip, connected to an orange extension cord that was coming out of the visitor’s center. Your boss was testing shots by the new mural that had been painted on the retaining wall next to the beach. You had helped her set up most of the lighting gear already, so at this point, the two of you were just waiting for the model to arrive. While you had wanted to spend the weekend touching up your costumes for the convention next week, you also needed the extra money. It had nothing to do with that fact that the model for today was none other than the delightful (and very sexy) Javier Escuella.

Ever since you had started working with this modeling & photography company, you had done a lot of random work that wasn’t really related to your college degree. However, you learned a lot about the profession and discovered that the thing you really loved more than photography itself was the photo-editing.

While you were editing some of your personal photos, you heard the sound of a motorcycle pulling up. Looking over at the source of the sound, you watched as Javier pulled his helmet off his head and shook his hair out. As he took off his bandana and biker jacket, you made a mental note to remember this moment forever, his biceps revealed, his sleeveless shirt wrapped around his torso like a lover.

Then he looked at you and grinned. He had caught you staring. Again.

How many times in the past three months since he started to work with your company had he caught you staring? And how many times had he just grinned at you, knowing he had caught you? 

Too many. Didn't he think you were a creep? And yet he still smiled. 

“Hey you,” Javier said smoothly as he walked over to you, the slight sway to his hips taunting you. He was a natural-born model, his movement graceful as a cat and his charisma amplified by his seductive smile. Taking a seat next to you, the space between you two barely a hair’s breadth apart, he leaned over to look at your screen. “What are you working on?”

You quickly tried to shut the laptop, but just as quickly he stayed your hand. His hand was bigger than yours, encompassing and warm. His fingers, wrapped around yours, gently moved the laptop screen back up, and you couldn’t stop him, so enraptured by his touch.

Apprehensively you watched him as he looked at your latest shots of you in your almost completed costume. You swallowed. Maybe he wouldn’t recognize you? After all, you had your glasses on, a big beanie over your hair, and an oversized sweater. Your photo had so much more makeup on and a wig, perhaps he wouldn’t—

“Oh, I know this Insta account.”

You paled.

“I’m a big fan.”

"I'm editing for a friend–" 

"Don't lie," he said softly. "I can tell it's you. I've known since I started working with you."

You squeaked. 

He turned his blazingly glorious smile onto you, and you felt like the sun was shining straight into your eyes. While you were reeling from his admission, he continued to talk to you.  

"You're going to that big convention next weekend, right?" 

You nodded. 

"Can I come?"

Shrugging as you tried to play it cool despite the slight tremor in your voice, you replied, "I'm not sure if tickets are still available, but I wouldn't stop you."

He leaned in a little closer. "What if I told you I already had a ticket?"

You gulped. "Re-really?" 

Nodding, he stood up, giving you room to breathe. "I may not look like it, but I enjoy comics too."

Noticing that your boss was starting to head over, you quickly said, "please don't tell my boss about this. I don't want her to think I'm slacking or anything."

Javier smiled and winked at you. "Of course. Your secret is safe with me." He leaned down to look at you in the eyes, and you were mesmerized for a moment from the intensity. "Just promise me I get a photo shoot with you at the con."

You nodded, your head moving so fast that your glasses dipped down your nose. 

He laughed as he casually reached down and moved your glasses back up, his fingers brushing against your temples.

"Then it's a date," he said as he walked away to greet your boss. 

Grabbing your laptop and pulling it off the charger, you followed as they went to the shooting location, your heart pounding a million miles a second. 

***

After the photo shoot, Javier traded his phone number with the lovely lady who had been the subject of his heated dreams as of late. He hadn't wanted to scare her; she always seemed so jumpy when he approached. But he always noticed the way she stared at him before he caught her eyes. The look she gave him was pure woman, and he craved more. 

It wasn't just the looks that brought her to his attention. He started following her Instagram account a year ago when he was looking at last year's masquerade winners. Her smile, her energy, and her creativity drew him in. He had found himself liking all of her posts in a day, scrolling endlessly through her archive. 

So when she had shown up at one of his photo shoots three months ago, he had been delighted. But she seemed shy and even denied that she had an Instagram account when he had asked her. He was even more surprised to find that she wasn't a model, but the photographer's intern. 

At that time, he had let it go. She was clearly hiding it, clearly didn't want to draw attention to herself. But every time he got to work with her, he felt frustrated that she hid herself so carefully behind her wide rimmed glasses and oversized hoodies. Her cosplay photos were amazing, her smile brilliant, her makeup impeccable, her costumes were bold and full of color combinations that seduced his vision. 

At the same time, having her hidden away made him feel a bit better about her safety. What kind of wolves would go after her if they knew how gorgeous she was under her baggy clothes? 

As he slowly got to know her, his affection for her had only grown. With each job, he talked with her more and more, and she had opened up to him. While they hadn't traded phone numbers until now, he could say with a certain level of confidence that they were on good terms. Almost friends, really. 

He couldn't wait for next week. He had gotten his Comic-Con ticket months ago and had been preparing on his own. Javier grinned under his helmet. 

She was going to be so surprised to see him. 

***

"Thanks for working today. I'll see you tomorrow."

"No problem, see ya later!" 

Your boss waved as she went to her car and drove off. The two of you had dropped the company van back at the office, so now you had the rest of the day to yourself. 

Getting into your car, you started it up, put your favorite music on… 

And you promptly screamed in both excitement and anxiousness. You had a date with Javier. You. Had a date. With Javier. 

You drove home, got to your apartment, and started working feverishly on the rest of your costume. 

Next weekend had to be perfect. 

***

You finished your make up and looked at yourself in the mirror. You had arrived at the convention center early and started getting ready in the bathroom as other cosplayers had begun to trickle in. For everything else in your life, you were unsure of yourself, constantly second guessing your choices and worrying if you were, in fact, wrong about everything.

But in this space, you felt strong. Confident. Because, despite the occasional hater in your comments, the majority of your feedback was positive. Besides, you were someone else when you put on your outfit. You were Star.Bright.909, a cosplayer with over a thousand followers. Not as many compared to the big name cosplayers, but you were proud of yourself for getting this far.

So when you came out of the restroom looking your best, the few gasps you heard were worth it. As you walked outside towards the photography area that had been set aside for cosplayers, you already had five people asking to take photos of you.

You smiled and posed and thanked everyone who wanted to take a photo. You were gracious and patient, even though you were trying to meet up with some photographers you had spoken with online. When you reached the small plaza, you met up with them and worked for the rest of the morning, posing as the photographers asked and networking with other cosplayers in the area. 

Just as you were about to head off towards the lobby to check out the dealer's hall, a man walking through the crowd caught your attention. Dressed up in a skin tight lycra Spiderman outfit, you could tell immediately that his muscles were real. The way he moved was smooth, graceful, and awfully familiar, despite not seeing his face. 

Wait. 

It couldn't. 

As he came closer to you, he bowed in a gentlemanly fashion and held out his hand. 

"Hola, mi Estrella."

You squeaked. "Javier?" 

"Just your friendly neighborhood Spiderman," he said, a teasing lilt to his voice. "Perhaps we could take a photo together?" 

"Of course," you said, suddenly shy. A professional model wanted to take a photo with you. Granted, you knew Javier, but he was still a pro, while you were an amateur. 

"Do you mind if I put my arm around you?" he asked politely. 

"That’s fine," you said, your face warming. 

He nodded and wrapped an arm around you, pulling you close for the photo. You grinned, channeling your happiness into your smile. Holding up the phone for a selfie, Javier took a few shots before taking a look at them to check their quality.

He still hadn't let go of you. 

"Whoops, sorry," he said, finally letting go. 

"It's okay," you quickly said. "I… I didn't mind."

He looked at you, but his mask prevented you from seeing his expression. 

"Are you free now?" he asked.

"Yes, I'm free for the rest of the day." You had worked yesterday and some of today, but you always left the last half-day of any convention for shopping or panels. 

Javier held out his hand and you gladly took it, letting him walk you back to the entrance of the convention center. 

As the two of you walked past one of the hotels that lined the plaza, you saw the laces of one of your boots hit the ground. 

"Hold on," you said as you stepped off the main path to tie it back. 

Then you felt the splash of liquid come down on your head, the smell of alcohol pungent and seeping into your wig.

For a moment you were shocked. Then the overwhelming sense of frustration hit you and all you could do was stay still and will yourself not to cry. Not in front of Javier. 

Warm hands touched your wet shoulders. 

"Sweetie. Come on, let's get you changed. Can I escort you to your hotel room?"

You looked up at him, at his compassionate eyes, and you shook your head. “I drove here this morning.” You had driven here from your apartment, an hour away.

“Oh. I see.” He took your hand and began to lead you down the road, away from the convention center. 

"Where are we going?" 

"My hotel room, if that’s alright. Or would you rather go back to the convention hall?"

“You got a room?” you said in surprise. 

He shrugged. “I have other business in the city tomorrow morning, figured it’d be easier to spend the night.”

“Oh, okay,” you said, unsure of what else to say. 

“So… are you okay coming with me? I won’t do anything, I promise.”

“Yeah, let’s go.” You put your hand on his arm. “I trust you, Javier.”

He nodded and continued to walk with you. He was taking you to his bedroom. No ulterior motives, he just wanted to help you get clean.

But part of you really wished he had some ulterior motives.

***

“I’ll get you some extra clothes from my backpack,” Javier called out to you as he left you to clean up in the bathroom on your own.

You stared in the mirror; your make up was ruined, your wig would need an extreme clean up when you got home, and your costume was stained and reeked of alcohol. As you took off everything and tried to rinse out what you could in the sink, you counted yourself lucky that this had happened at the end of the convention rather than the beginning. At least you had all of your shots and you could maybe sell a few prints to make some of your cash back.

You showered and dried your hair as quickly as you could, not wanting to take up more of Javier’s time. He had left a shirt and shorts in front of the bathroom door for you, and you opened the door a crack to pull them inside, throwing them on. They were a bit loose on you, but that was a welcome relief, compared to the skin tight costume you had on earlier.

“Alright, I’m good,” you said as you exited the bathroom. Javier was lying on the bed, his legs still on the floor. His costume was unzipped to expose his torso, his arms up in the air as he was typing on his phone. Turning his head to you, he gave you a lazy grin before patting the bed next to him. 

“Have a seat, I’m just finishing this post for Insta.”

You sat next to him and took in his body from up close. His abs were perfect; you wanted to run your hands down them to see how they’d feel under your fingers. He was lean, tanned, muscles, everything you lusted after.

“What do you think?”

You quickly looked up at him, as if he hadn’t just caught you staring at his body. He was holding out his phone, a picture of the two of you with your costumes. The caption said, Found my favorite cosplayer today! She graciously took a selfie with me, isn’t she wonderful?

You felt warm from his kind words. “You’re too nice to me,” you mumbled.

Javier laughed softly and sat up. “I like being nice to you.” He posted the photo and put his phone down. Turning towards you, he reached up and stroked your face with the back of his knuckles. “I just… like you.”

You swallowed. The fact that he was saying that now, with you wearing baggy clothes, your make-up gone, just being your unglamorous self, meant so much that you started to tear up.

“Did I say the wrong thing?”

“No,” you said between tears. “I like you too.”

He started to lean in for a kiss before he stopped. “May I?”

“You can do whatever you want to me,” you said without thinking.

A moment passed, his deep brown eyes searching yours. “Anything?” he finally said.

You nodded. Time to own up to your words, to your feelings that you had been denying for so long. “Yes.”

“Well, I’d rather do whatever we want with each other,” he said, smiling gently.

You leaned in and kissed him, surprising him and surprising yourself. Your hands rested on his chest and you gave in, exploring his toned body, his skin underneath your fingers, feeling warm and inviting to your touch. He pulled you into his arms and kissed you back, a passionate inhalation of your very spirit, as if he wanted to merge his soul with yours.

Soon he pressed you down against the mattress and kissed you for a few moments more before he pulled away. “Wait here for a few, I’m going to shower so I don’t smell like sweat and spandex. You deserve better than that.”

You laughed as he kissed your cheek and went to shower. 

Laying on the bed, staring at the ceiling, you managed to find your brain again. You, and he, were about to…

Your brain left again and you just grew warm between your legs. You wanted him so much.

In a daze, you didn't notice the sound of the shower turning off. You didn't notice the door open and close. You only noticed when he came back to the bed, wearing just a towel around his waist, smiling down at you. The tendrils of his black hair clung to his cheeks, still damp from the shower, as drops of water slid down his neck to his chest, drawing a line you desperately wanted to trace with your tongue. As your eyes moved lower, you noticed his towel wasn’t exactly hiding his desire for you.

"I've wanted you for so long, querida," he said, his voice like fingertips gliding down your spine as he stepped to the foot of the bed. Taking off your shirt and throwing it aside, he grabbed your breasts and kissed them, laving each nipple with his tongue before pinching and teasing you with his dexterous fingers until you were a writhing mess. You could feel your panties being soaked by your desire, and you shifted your legs, wanting to remove them.

Your movement attracted his attention, and he looked down at you. Reaching down to pull at the waistband of your (his) shorts, he pulled them off, revealing your beige panties.

“Aw, I thought you would have gone commando,” he teased as he tugged your underwear down your legs, his fingers caressing you along the way.

“They weren’t soaked with alcohol,” you mumbled.

“They’re soaked now,” he said with a cocky grin, tossing them aside. Then he placed a hand at each of your knees and spread your legs open, revealing your most intimate body parts to him. Licking his lips, he knelt down and pulled your hips to the edge of the bed. 

The moment Javier’s tongue brushed against your core, you nearly came. He was hungry, so hungry, and ate you out like a man starved. With one hand he held you down, his fingers splayed out on your stomach and occasionally digging into your soft flesh while he slipped one finger inside of you, stretching you out slowly.

“Let me hear what I’m doing to you, baby,” he said before diving back in.

“Y-you’re, making me, feel really, good,” you managed to say between sharp intakes of breath.

“Bien, bien,” he praised, petting your belly. “Come on my tongue, querida, I want to taste your happiness.”

With that command, he slipped another finger inside of you and sucked hard on your center, his eyes on you as he drove your body into a heated frenzy, barely able to hold you down as you keened. Your hips undulated out of your control as the spiral unraveled and you let go, euphoria zipping up and down your body. You cried out wordlessly as you peaked and then fell, landing in a fluffy cloud of afterglow.

“Oh my god, Javier,” you breathed. “That was amazing.”

“Who said we were done?”

You lifted your head up just in time to see his teasing grin as he stood up.

And he dropped his towel.

Your lust went through the roof; you were so ready for round two.

His hands on your knees, he pushed them up to your shoulders.

“Hold your legs open for me.”

You willingly obeyed.

Javier cupped your cheek and leaned down to kiss you, the taste of your release still lingering on his lips. You felt him nudge you open, his length sliding inside of you as the two of you shared a moan, swallowed up by each other’s kiss.

He continued to kiss you as he slowly pressed forward until his hips were flush with yours.

“You feel like heaven,” he said as he leaned back so that he was standing over you, his cock deep inside of you, your hips barely on the edge of the bed. He gripped your waist, his hands warm in contrast to the cool hotel air. Slowly sliding out of you until only the tip of him remained, the only warning you got was the feel of his fingers digging into you before he slammed back into you.

“Oh my god!” you yelped.

“Too much?” he asked, looking a little worried.

“Keep going, please,” you begged. “I want it hard!”

“Oh yes,” he moaned before going all out, letting loose all of his lust for you as he fucked you in a frenzy. He fell upon you, crushing you into the mattress as he wrapped a hand around your neck. “Like this, baby?”

“Yes!” you breathed out, your voice cracking. “More, more!”

Javier’s eyes lit up as he pulled out of you and picked you up effortlessly, tossing you into the center of the bed and rolling you onto your stomach before climbing up onto the bed. You felt his length sliding along the curve of your ass before he lifted your hips up slightly and mounted you from behind, moaning softly.

“You’re perfecto,” he whispered into your ear when he covered you with his body and began to fuck you from behind, his hand wrapping around your neck again. You could feel the brush of his hair along your skin as he rutted into you, his deep sounds of pleasure echoing in your ears.

His long fingers found their way to your clit. One stroke and you flinched, still sensitive from your last climax. He didn’t show you any mercy; the hand around your neck tightened, his legs trapped yours in place, and his fingers found your core once again, stroking you oh so perfectly. The pressure from his touch was just right, the feel of his breath against your ear as he slipped into another language to tell you how much he coveted you.

Javier’s head pressed against your temple. “Give me everything, baby. I want you so much.”

His words, his touch, his absolute possession of your body made your release so much stronger this time around. You cried out his name as pure pleasure rocketed through your bloodstream, a high better than any drug. His hips kept pumping as you spasmed beneath him, wringing out every last gasp and moan from you until you were shaking with the aftershocks.

“Let me make a mess of you,” he growled.

“Yes, please,” you said mindlessly, willing to do whatever he asked. 

He pulled out of you and rolled you onto your back. Straddling your waist, he took your hand and wrapped it around his cock. You stroked him rapidly, watching his eyes burn with ecstasy, his breathing grow heavier as he reached his peak. Reaching for his balls with his other hand, you fondled him gently, looking up at him with a smile.

That flipped a switch, as he reached for your neck again, his other hand wrapping around yours to apply more pressure to his cock as he came, spilling himself all over your breasts. He moaned your name as he finished, looking at you in complete awe.

“Fuck,” he breathed, letting go of your neck and hand as he fell to one side and rolled to face you. “I haven’t come like that in forever.”

Looking at his satisfied face, you couldn’t help but wonder if this was just a one time deal or if this was the start of something, you weren’t sure what.

You must have looked concerned, because he frowned, his brow wrinkled with concern. “What’s on your mind?”

“Um, I… never mind,” you quickly said, deciding not to voice your thoughts.

He leaned in, placed both his hands on your cheeks, and squished your face a little. “Please tell me.”

With his gaze so intensely close to you, you spoke without filtering. “Is this a one time deal? Or can we be… something more?”

He stopped squishing your cheeks, but he kept his hands on your face. Kissing your forehead, then your nose, then your lips, he smiled at you. “I want something more. Do you?”

You nodded enthusiastically.

“So let’s try."

You couldn't help the grin that broke out on your face. 

"That's the smile I fell for," he said, smiling back. As he tried to pull you close, you pushed on his chest. 

"I'm sticky."

Javier just laughed. "Let's take a shower then." He cupped your cheek and kissed you again, his lips lingering on yours before he pulled back to gaze into your eyes. The way he looked at you pulled at your heart, while his next words made you happier than you had ever been. 

"You're the brightest star in my life."

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

End Notes: A bit on the nose, but the lyric is from Hips Don’t Lie by Shakira. Hope you enjoyed this story! One more left in this series. I’m going to wrap it up with the last Arthur x F!Reader!

Also happy birthday to @eddescuella!!! I waited so I could post on your special day! 💖💖💖

[jj-lives]

Ornament Inktober - Bmblb

“They’re on their way!” Yang heard a crash coming from Ruby’s room.

“Why didn’t you wake me earlier?” She screamed, skidding into the bathroom already half undressed.

“It’s noon, and you’re a big girl.” Yang admonished. “At least I didn’t wait until they were at the door to wake you.”

“Haha, you’re hilarious.”

Ruby threw her shirt in Yang’s direction before disappearing into the bathroom completely. The garment only made it halfway down the hall, nowhere near Yang, who was in the living room, piecing together the tree they’d purchased the day before.

A familiar chime sounded from her phone. She grabbed it off the table where she’d left it after receiving Blake’s last text saying her and Weiss were on the way over.

‘Is Ruby awake yet?’

Smiling at how well Blake seemed to know Ruby’s habits she typed a quick reply back.

‘Just woke her. Should be out of the shower soon.’

‘How close are you?’

Yang sent the second message as her impatience was only growing with the knowledge she’d soon see Blake again. Even though it had only been a few days. It always seemed like too much time passed in between her Blake fixes.

‘Close’ was her simple reply.

‘Blaaaake’

‘Yes?’

‘You’re being mean :(‘

Yang stood to put the top section on the fake tree. She didn’t bother unfolding the branches, something told her Weiss would insist on redoing her work anyway.

‘I’ll have to make it up to you then. Open the door.’

In her haste to get to the door she kicked the leg of the coffee table. Limping the rest of the way she threw the door open to find absolutely no one.

“She is so gonna get it.” Yang mumbled as she bent to rub her injured toe.

“Get what?”

She stepped into the hall to find Blake leaning against the wall beside her door. She glared, knowing she’d hidden on purpose.

“Do I have two things to make up for now?” She asked innocently.

Yang closed the distance between them, pinning Blake’s body to the wall with her own.

“Where’s Weiss?” She asked, lips ghosting the skin of her jaw. Blake’s body quivered against hers at the contact.

“Parking the car. We have a few minutes.” Blake’s fingers dug into her hips with enough force Yang was sure she’d have a few bruises the next morning. It was an injury she wouldn’t mind wearing.

“Good.”

The kiss wasn’t soft or gentle. It was none of Yang’s usual sweetness. It was rough, full of tongue and teeth. Blake moaned deep in her throat which spurred Yang further. One hand bypassing Blake’s many layers to feel the warm bare skin beneath. Her thumb pressed circles into the soft skin below Blake’s ribs. It pulled a sharp gasp from the girl in her arms and their lips parted.

It wasn’t enough.

Her lips found a new target as Blake continued to gasp lungfuls of air. Yang growled, irritated that Blake's scarf barred her from full access to her neck. Not having the patience to remove it Yang's mouth drew a jagged line along Blake's jaw stopping only to tug at her earlobe gently with her teeth.

"Yang," Blake groaned, tugging the hair at the back of Yang's neck.

When had she moved her hands from her hips? Blake forced their lips back together as she arched her back, moulding into Yang's touch.

"Would you two please not do that in public?"

Weiss's voice sobered them instantly. With more strength than Yang had yet seen her use Blake pushed their bodies apart. Yang's back collided with the wall opposite as Weiss strolled between them.

"Please try to restrain yourselves." It came off as an order, but Yang was realizing most things she said did. "It's my first Christmas Eve with my girlfriend and I don't want you two ruining it."

A mumbled "it's our first Christmas too," drifted across the hall and Yang laughed, blushing a deep red.

She held her hand out to Blake, who accepted readily.

“Weiss.”

Ruby’s excited voice rang out as they re-entered the apartment. She came running down the hall so fast Yang thought she was going to collide with her girlfriend full force. She skidded to a stop inches from bumping noses and Yang had to give Weiss credit for the fact she stood her ground. Girl must be brave, or perhaps she just trusted Ruby more than Yang would have.

A snicker filled the space as Ruby lifted her hand and held plastic mistletoe above their heads. Weiss scoffed but leaned in to fulfil the age old tradition.

“So they can kiss, but we can’t?” Blake pouted.

“I’d call her out on it,” Yang smiled, pulling Blake to sit with her on the couch. “But Weiss has the unfortunate ability to make Ruby unbearably happy.” They both watched the beaming smile that Ruby pulled away from the kiss with.

“To bring down the monster you would have to sacrifice the maiden.” Blake whispered into her ear as she moved to rest her head on Yang’s shoulder.

“Something like that.”

“You know,” Yang spoke after a moment. “You and Weiss aren’t so different.”

“Take that back right now.”

Blake pulled away, glaring daggers, and it took all Yang’s strength to pull her back into her arms.

“I will not.” She said resolutely. “Because as much as Weiss makes Ruby happy, you make me at least twice as.”

Blake laughed.

“You are so cheesy.”

“Should I stop?” Yang questioned pulling her in for a soft kiss.

“Never.” Blake whispered against her lips.

“Yang,” Ruby called. “It’s time to decorate the tree.”

“Okay. Okay, fine.”

Blake and Yang untangled themselves. Weiss and Blake started placing the branches on the tree while Yang and Ruby started unpacking the ornaments. Yang excused herself to make them all some hot chocolate and returned to a full on argument. She half expected Blake and Weiss to be going at it but for Ruby and Weiss to be arguing, it surprised her.

“What’s happening?” She asked as Blake took a mug from her hands.

“They are in a disagreement on when to put the top star on the tree.”

“It’s the last thing you put on… obviously.”

“You have to start at the top and build everything around it.” Weiss spun on her. “How else can you get it perfect?”

Blake turned and walked away, sipping her hot chocolate she sat on the end of the couch to watch the show.

“Hold up princess.” Yang replied coolly. She swatted at Weiss’ hand that came up to point an indignant finger at her. “I realize you may have grown up with everything just so and pristine, perfect trees, decorated immaculately. But there comes a time you have to learn things can be better, a little unperfect, a little crooked or off center.”

Weiss rolled her eyes as she scoffed.

“How could anything be better than perfect?” She asked.

“Life. Love. Family.” Yang replied slowly. “Ruby, and Blake… none of those things and neither of these two are perfect. But” Yang removed her eyes from Weiss and locked them with Blake’s amber ones. “I wouldn’t want to change either of them for anyone’s definition of perfect.”

“That’s sweet,” Blake cooed. Standing to kiss Yang on the cheek. “Such a charmer.”

“Fine, the star can go on last.” Ruby squealed happily. “But the garland goes on first!”

“Okay, I’ll allow that.” Ruby agreed.

Yang and Blake took a backseat, looping hooks to ornaments, as Weiss and Ruby twirled around the tree placing them. Yang caught Weiss adjusting a few of Ruby’s whenever her back was turned but she didn’t want to start another argument between them so she kept quiet. Ruby picked up the star as Weiss placed the last bauble on the tree.

“Hey Ruby,” Yang jumped up, Blake slipping from her lap. “Let Blake place the star.”

Ruby’s bottom lip stuck out and where normally it would have Yang giving in, today was another matter. She couldn’t get the way Blake said that it was their first Christmas together earlier. She was right, and Yang wanted it to be special.

“You and Weiss decorated the entire tree. Blake’s a part of this family too now.”

Ruby handed the star over dejectedly.

“It’s okay, Yang. Ruby can put it on if she wants.” Blake spoke up.

Shaking her head she held a hand out for her. “No, no. You aren’t getting out of this that easily. Come here.”

Ruby dragged Weiss into the kitchen promising to return with snacks and more hot chocolate, already forgetting her disappointment regarding the star.

“Alright, give me it if you’re going to make me do this.” Blake’s voice was steady, uninterested, aloof even. But she was smiling, a soft, grateful smile. It made living through Ruby’s pout worth it to have Blake feel a little like she belonged.

As she rose to her tip-toes, Yang stepped up behind her. “Let me help.” Her arms wrapped around Blake coming to rest on the now exposed skin of her midriff. Blake placed the star before sinking into Yang’s arms.

“This is how you help?” She purred her approval, resting her hands on top of Yang's.

Yang still couldn't believe the incredible girl in her arms chose to be there. She buried her face into Blake's neck and held her tighter.

"Stay."

"What was that?" Blake asked through derisive snort. "Couldn't hear you cuz I dont have ears on my neck."

"Stay." She breathed directly into the shell of Blake's ear. She shivered in her arms. "Stay here tonight."

Yang was well aware she was begging and all her pep talks about how taking things slow being a good thing, how she was waiting for Blake to be ready, or for the timing to be right; all washed away. She didn't care. There was no shame in not wanting to say goodbye to Blake tonight.

Yang steeled her nerves for the possibility Blake might refuse. She might not be ready for that step, and Yang would be okay with that.

She'd already waited twenty three years for her. She would wait an eternity more if that's what Blake wanted.

"Alright."

"Yes?" She needed to hear it again because she couldn't trust her brain not to warp Blake's words into what she wanted to hear.

"Yes." Blake responded again.

One word shouldn't be able to elicited so much happiness. She couldn't contain her excitement at Blake's answer. Not knowing what to do she grabbed Blake and twirled.

Blake squealed through her laughter. And it was the girliest thing Yang had ever heard come from her she nearly dropped her.

"Yang!" She called gripping her arms tight for support. "Let me go."

She stopped spinning, letting Blake's feet find the floor.

"Never." She said with resolve, placing a kiss on Blake's shoulder before releasing her. She took hold of her hand and pulled her into the kitchen to see what was taking the other two so long.

"If you two are making out you better stop. Blake and I are coming in."

This was going to be the best Christmas.

Ever.

[spnfanficpond]

March Angel Fish Awards

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words.

The monthly Angel Fish Awards are peer-nominated, meaning ANYONE IN THE POND CAN NOMINATE ANY POND MEMBER’S FIC. While the Pond was founded to support the Guppies, everyone in this community deserves to be showered with love and feedback, and we hope that by opening this up as a Pond wide system, we’ll be able to share the love as far as it can go.

NOTE: WE’VE BEEN HAVING OCCASIONAL PROBLEMS WITH ASKS GOING MISSING. Please use the Submit button when submitting your nominations and make sure you’re signed into Tumblr or your URL won’t show. (If the form asks for your name and email address, then you’re not signed in.) If you like, you can also send a message to Michelle @mrswhozeewhatsis or Mana @manawhaat to check and make sure we got your submission.

WITHOUT FURTHER ADO, HERE ARE MARCH’S ANGEL FISH AWARDS!

Nominated by @wingedcatninja

Static (series) by @peridottea91

peridottea91 is going to single-handedly convert me to like series. I just re-read this gem and had to share it. In another life, she could have been a writer on the show, she’s so good at getting the characterization right for our boys. This OC, too, is an intiguing, layered personality that adds an extra dimension of mystery. And the whole story is perfectly woven in with canon. Two thumbs up. A must read.

Wish (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

It’s just a drabble, but it made me feel so many things in so few words. I don’t even know what to say about it, other than it’s brilliant and if you love Dean Winchester, you have to read it.

Bad Medicine (oneshot) by @deanwandamons

This was lovely, and hot, and it made me giggle. 

Nominated by @risingphoenix761

Because You’re Worth It (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

I love a good crack fic, and I love some good Samwena content, so this is right up my alley. And a great mix of funny and fluffy! 

Kings Don’t Kneel (oneshot) by @slytherkins

Few things in fic give me as much joy as Tara writing Crowley, and she hits all my favorite spots in under a thousand words. Struggling with emotion is hard enough for an unfeeling demon, but grief and loss–and the pain of knowing those emotions are unacknowledged–are enough to bring anyone to their knees. Beautiful and succinct, and all the angst!

Nominated by @peridottea91

Heaven (oneshot) by @evansrogerskitten

This fic is so beautifully written and just really captures Dean’s personality while still smacking you in the face with the most amazing “and then I saw her” moment!! Best still my heart!!! And the whole SamxEileen subplot!! The whole fic is just *chef’s kiss*

Nominated by @impala-dreamer

The Sun (oneshot) by @crashdevlin 

It’s just amazingly beautiful. Short, sweet, and full of wonderful emotion. I loved every single word.

Nominated by anonymous

Dive In With Me (oneshot) by @sp-oops

This was a gorgeous, genuine account of the reader and Sam finally, FINALLY crossing that hurtle.

Coming Home (oneshot) by @there-must-be-a-lock

Lou builds us a story with such detail and precise ache that we forget to breathe. She teaches Dean, repeatedly, that he deserves to be happy.

Shackled (series) by @itmighthavebeenintentional

Val started her Demon!Dean x OFC series like a building storm. Miriam Bard is a fellow hunter, another older sibling with more internal demons than she cares to name. Sam calls her in on an old favor. Before long she doesn’t know if anything is real or who she can trust. Dark fic, so good!

Shattered Breaths (oneshot) by @dontshootmespence

Nicole dove deep for this kink bingo fill, and it is well worth every word. See how the Omega reader learns to trust the Winchesters and just what it takes for them to give up protecting themselves and lean into possibility.

Nominated by @the-girl-who-runs-with-winchesters

Devil May Care (oneshot) by @becs-bunker

This was such an interesting plot idea and amazing storytelling. Not that I had expected anything less from this talented author, of course.

Rough Ride (oneshot) by @luci-in-trenchcoats

A fun quick and very heated oneshot that made me smile at the end :)

All About Lovin’ You (oneshot) by @deanwanddamons

You know me, I can never let a month pass without diving into some angst, nor can I resist praising a fellow guppy for their amazing work. And this one’s got both! I got sucked in right from the start. It goes from heartbreaking to heartwarming, and from hot right back to sweet.

It’s About Time (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87

I randomly came across this one and it made me smile so much. Probably one of the most inventive ways to play matchmaker that I’ve heard so far.

Nominated by @dontshootmespence

For Better or For Worst (series) by @stusbunker

She does intrigue like no one else and doesn’t get the love she deserves!

Marked (series) by @there-must-be-a-lock

This is so fucking vivid it's ridiculous. There's smut, there's angst, there's sweetness and it's all maddeningly good.

Nominated by @negans-lucille-tblr

Desire (onsehot) by @princessmisery666

This fic is the very definition of smangst and I loved every second of it. The fact Stacey claims she can’t write smut baffles me when I read this fic 😍

Dirty Little Secret (series) by @pink1031

Whenever I’m asked what my all time favourite fic is it’s this one. I didn’t read rpf before this but it pulled me in and I’m so glad it did! It was just incredible and gave me my obsession with the idea of dating J2.

Nominated by @lovetusk

Me Likey & We are real (oneshots) by @impala-dreamer 

They were both fantastic and on point. Drunk Dean is a rare and beautiful sight, and there’s nothing I love more than comforting a down and out Sammy. Well done.

Nominated by @impalaimagining

Currently Thinking About Jensen... (oneshot) by @negans-lucille-tblr

This is such a short and effective little piece of smut. The way it teeters on the edge of absolutely and filthily inappropriate puts it on a whole new level of dirty. I am a huge fan of last-line punches to the face no matter what the genre is, and that’s exactly what this is. It leaves you begging for more in the most desperate way. It’s a quick read but it gets the job done.

Midnight Confessions (oneshot) by @katymacsupernatural

I love the way this fic has the reader second guessing herself even though she has no recollection of doing anything to upset the guys. I’m always here for an appearance from Sam to push his stubborn brother and their bunkmate in the right direction. Admittedly, I am a sleep-talker, and I’ve said my fair share of embarrassing things (including yelling at my husband about wanting a grilled cheese at 3am), but if I could just once have something I said in my sleep get me a kiss from Dean Winchester? Hell yes. 

Nominated by @deanwinchesterswitch

Coming Home (oneshot) by @there-must-be-a-lock

This is a beautiful heart wrenching story showcasing Dean’s desire for love and need affection and how few times he actually receives it. Denying himself of what he needs, until he doesn’t.

Unspoken (oneshot) by @deanscherrypie

A wonderful little drabble about how Dean lets you know he loves you without saying anything at all. Such a beautiful line… “All his broken pieces matched yours with mosaic complexity, and somehow you found a new kind of home within each other.”

Don’t Need An Excuse (oneshot) by @amanda-teaches

A beautifully crafted story from Dean’s POV about his girl and the tender loving moments in time that couples share. And, damn that ending, my poor heart.

Nominated by @there-must-be-a-lock

Anything And Everything (oneshot) by @rockhoochie

This fic honestly just took my breath away. You can feel the longing and wistfulness, and the writing is superb. There’s so much depth and detail here, it feels real and vibrant and lived-in, in a way that very few fics do. AND I love she writes Dean’s POV.

He Is, Therefore I am (oneshot) by @stusbunker

All I can say about this one is BROTHERS BEING BROTHERS. It's totally stream-of-consciousness, and it really does feel like you're in their heads.

Leaving Heaven (series) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Such a badass, snarky narrator with a distinctive voice, and her Demon Dean is dark and awful and sexy as hell, and there's so much depth and nuance in their interactions.

Golden Hour (oneshot) by @fangirlxwritesx67

It's straight-up wish fulfillment, fluffy comforting goodness, and I think everybody needs a little bit of that in their lives right now.

Nominated by @princessmisery666

The Question (oneshot) by @girl-next-door-writes

Death by fluff and it was so worth it !! This was perfect, of course Sam has some grand plan to propose and of course it doesn’t go to plan but ended up perfect anyway!! Was fun and sweet, loved it!!

Carry On (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage

I love Rhi. I swear everything she writes, even AU’s, could be canon!! Characterizations are always on point, stories are engaging and make me feel something every time. This one is no exception. If I could I would send it to the writers to show them this is how the show should end!!

Kings Don’t Kneel (oneshot) by @slytherkins

A small drabble from Tara and as always it gave me all the feels. It could be canon, if anyone asks me I will tell them this is exactly how Crowley felt. This made me sad and I totally wanted to hug Crowley and tell him it would all be okay. 

Nominated by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Cocky (oneshot) by @stusbunker  

Sexy, fun, and real. I love your Dean, Stuie!

Golden Hour (oneshot) by @fangirlxwritesx67  

Comforting and cozy and swoony!

Nominated by @littlehotmess26

Until The Day I Die Again (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

Mel writes Dean x Benny amazingly and this fic is one of my favorites. 

Happy Birthday, Baby (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss 

This was a birthday gift to me and it was soo good. Mel did a great job. 

This Isn’t One Of Mine (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87  

Dawn stepped out of her comfort zone for this one and it turned out phenomenal.

Goodbye, Sweetheart (oneshot) by @sorenmarie87 

This fic is heartbreaking and I absolutely love it.

Nominated by @kate-huntington

While You Sleep (oneshot) by @foreverwayward

A heartwarming little fic about Dean living the domesticated life we all wish for him. The writer has a very clever way of storytelling and the end might come as a surprise, only adding to the emotion it already brought along. 

Findings (seires) by @kathaswings 

 This is one of my favorite series out there and I revisited it recently. The overall story arc is a mystery I just had to unravel and I couldn’t put it down if I wanted to. The bond between Dean and Mackenzie is so precious. Writing a child isn’t easy. I’ve read plenty of books and seen plenty of films in which the maturity that was added wasn’t natural, but this author handles the Mac’s dialogue amazingly well. What’s also interesting is the jumps from point of view between Dean and Y/N, giving very personal perspectives on the gripping story.

Heartbeats (oneshot) by @there-must-be-a-lock

I’ll start by saying that I don’t ship Dean and Cas together, but I do appreciate the people who do. What this little piece of art does is incredible, however, because while I was reading, I found myself rooting for them. The writer does a great job by using the literal human heart as a backbone of this story. Intriguing and very well executed.

Everything That’s Yet To Come (oneshot) by @fictionalabyss

The author took me by the hand through this moving little one shot, which feels like a collection of greatest hits and wishes come true. It offers peace and closure not only for the older Winchester brother, but for the reader as well. Beautiful piece of writing.

Take A Drunk Girl Home (oneshot) by @amanda-teaches

Dean taking care of others; it’s his nature and shows what a kind soul he truly is. The situation sketched here is no exception, and it’s softer than one can imagine. The pace is steady and the balance between fluff and comedy is just right. A lovely read.

The Demon Inside Of You (oneshot) by @foreverwayward

Curing Dean from the demon that he has become proves to be difficult when he’s so hard to resist. What else is hard to resist, is this beautiful pitch black one shot. I don’t read Demon!Dean fiction often, because it still feels foreign to see the character that I love so much turn into something so evil. This however, is so gripping and well written, that the darkness swallows up the beholder. Rough, hot, sad, narcissistic, all these ingredients packed up in one hell of a story.

Curves And Edges (oneshot) by @kittenofdoomage

This equally sweet, sexy, funny and sad story is a big shout out to all women who think they don’t meet the beauty standards and feel like they will never be good enough to get noticed. It is one thing to replace a name with Y/N and call it a reader’s insert; it’s a gift to make every person reading this feel like they are the character in this story. The author handles every woman’s insecurities with grace, making her words both relatable and soothing. Her spot on version of Dean reminds us that we are beautiful, desired and unique.

Watch Your Fcking Mouth (oneshot) by @impala-dreamer

Dean falls under a frustrating curse, and it’s the most fun I’ve had in a long time. I was wheezing, couldn’t breathe and died laughing. It’s astonishing how the writer can juggle comedy and sex without the two ruling each other out. An uplifting read.

Life For Rent (series) by @winchest09

Conspiracies, deceit, crime. A strong family bond, blossoming love, oh, not to mention the sex. This series is intriguing beyond imagination and certainly not just another mobster fanfiction. The writing is smart and I could tell from the first paragraph that it’s loaded with hints and foreshadowing, but I couldn’t pick them out. This triggers a curiosity like an itch I can’t quite scratch away until I finish reading this story. And so I wait eagerly and drop everything the second a new chapter comes out. An absolute must read!  

When You Least Expect It (series) by @coffee-obsessed-writer

Talking about an epic love story, but it’s so much more than that. The music that plays such an important factor, the setting that is Seaside. The fabulous supporting characters Bri, Rob, Jason and Jared, the wardrobe, not to mention the wonderful little gems and details that this author weaved into the story, showing how much love she has put into it. This is without a shadow of a doubt my favorite RPF I’ve come across.

Nominated by @girl-with-a-fandom-fettish

The Unexpected (oneshot) by @impalaimagining

The desperation and neediness between characters is just…I can almost feel through the screen. And the gif at the top of the post is the closest thing to porn Tumblr allows now is HOT.

Criminal Love (series) by @kalesrebellion

This mob fic has a lot of things going for it: mob!Dean, big brother Benny (which I didn’t know I needed in my life, but apparently I do), mystery, and a unique way of incorporating a lot of familiar faces from the SPN world. It’s 6 chapters in and I am DYING to see what happens next because the last chapter left me shook!

Unplanned Parenthood (oneshot) by @erins-culinary-service

This fic makes me long for more canon dad!Dean because he’s just so good at it and it feels like it would fit in so well. The author nailed the family vibes and I love that she found a way to make it canon plausible (something I just can’t seem to grasp in my own writing); well done, doll.

Changes (series) by @katehuntington

This fic is super unique as it is like a series rewrite, but rather than using “Pilot, Wendigo, Dead in the Water” etc., Kate is writing her own episodes! Episode 1 just wrapped up, with my personal favorite being part 10 because the characterization of both Winchester brothers felt so spot on to me. Zoe, the amazing OFC and star of this fic, might be the coolest person ever and I wish she was my best friend. Heads up though, this is not your CW Supernatural; it’s darker, dirtier, and probably a lot closer to what the Winchesters’ lives are actually like.

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

The Man on the Side of the Road (seires) by @supernatural-jackles

This is a seriously awesome Dean AU fic! Both Dean and the reader have so much baggage, but they’re working together to fix each other and it’s just BEAUTIFUL. It’s a series, and I can’t wait to see how it ends!!!

Nominated by @emoryhemsworth

Never Alone Again (oneshot) by @dissect-me 

This author was kind enough to take the time to write about a recent trauma I discovered happened to me as a child and how Dean would react/comfort me. It’s powerful and really helped me. ❤️

Nominated by @fangirlxwritesx67

Laissez Les Bons Temp Rouler (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

M is the kind of author that is the reason you have the “four recs per author” rule because otherwise I would just be submitting her entire masterlist every month. For a talent like MJ, all it takes is a photo to spark an entire story. This photo of Jensen was particularly inspiring, and MJ did it justice. Hot, drunk, sexy, just UGH.

Where Is My Shiny Gun (oneshot) by thoughtslikeaminefield

Do you love Dean? Do you love Donna? Do you love Sam? Does your mouth water and your knees go weak just a little thinking about all 3 of them together? Do you need some generous, consensual, sunshiney, smutty love? Then check this out.

Leaving Heaven (series) by thoughtslikeaminefield

Demon Dean meets his match in the most compelling OFC I’ve ever read, bounty hunter Tazi. Where to start with this series? MJ works some of her best magic yet, seamlessly weaving the story into the show we know so well. Her Dean is brilliant, as always, every supporting character spot on. The action is tight, the murder wrenching, the sex smoking. And as good as it is, as perfect as Dean and Sam are, as impatient I am for every chapter .. I would read it all just for Tazi. Tazi is an OFC worthy of novelization: tough, sarcastic, sexy, and fully realized. She’s so beautiful and broken that you can’t help falling in love with her as you read. If I could ask everyone to read just one SPN FF ever, it would be this one.

Three Bad Ideas (series) by @there-must-be-a-lock​

She’s just getting started on her Everything prequels but, by every indicator they will be JUST as filthy as the original, with even more emotional depth and character development. Frankly it’s HOT and heartbreaking and her voice for Jared is so, so good, and so is Jensen, and I’m just all over this love story. I screamed at her when she published, that if I didn’t know what came next, I would be HEARATBROKENED (that’s how excited I got, that I forgot how to speak.)

Ocean Eyes (oneshot) by @there-must-be-a-lock

The ocean is my Happy Place and I’m a sucker for Sam so this fic just hit all my sweet spots. A lot of us are looking for comfort fics right now and this is uniquely heartwarming.

Shackled (series) by @itmighthavebeenintentional

I KNOW this was nominated last month but there are more chapters and it just keeps getting better! For every question that the story answers, it asks two more. Also, it’s started getting smutty and whoooooooo boy.

Anything And Everything (oneshot) by @rockhoochie

I don’t even remember why this lovely lady was asking for prompts but I sent one that I think was, listening to records, first kiss. I had long since forgotten when she dropped this 8K word MASTERPIECE on all of us. 

It’s such a sweet in-character Dean, but a relaxed side of Dean that he deserves and we don’t really get to see. It’s soft and sensual and just… you can feel it while you read.

Nominated by @manawhaat

Sex Ed (oneshot) by @cleighwrites

This is a type of wincest I’m not sure I’ve experienced before, but I can say without a doubt that I fucking love it! It’s your classic little brother Sammy looking up to Dean. It’s the show. It’s their relationship to a T, but with that little bit of helplessness that makes Sam feel like such a fucking kid! I don’t even know if my normal wincest loving self would call this actual Wincest, but wherever it falls on the radar, it’s wonderful!

Passion (oneshot) by @bohowitch

This is poetry in motion, just like Sam is. This is a beautiful, firery, perfect ode to all that is Sam Winchester!

Neptune Rising (oneshot) by @atc74

This is such a clever and refreshing AU! I don’t think I’ve ever read one like this and both characters are nuanced in such believable ways. It’s not too long, so you should definitely take a sec to check it out!

Shackled (series) by @itmighthavebeenintentional

What can I say about this series other than HOLY FUCK!! It’s got twists and turns and secrets and guilt and worry and drama and excitement and passion and fucking everything you want in a good, juicy, keep you on the edge of your seat kind of story!

There’s a feral brutality to the way she portrays Demon!Dean in this that is actually scary and makes me nervous in real life. I find myself looking around the room when I read this, pulling my feet in from off the side of the couch as if this version of Deanmon is gonna snatch me up if I’m not careful. It’s intense and SO. DAMN. COMPELLING. And it’s not even a fucking reader insert. I find myself worrying about Miriam (the ofc) at random parts of the day long after I’ve finished reading the latest chapters...

This series is a fucking MUST READ!

Celibacy, Interrupted (oneshot) by @thoughtslikeaminefield

Any fic with Jody x a Winchester is my jam, but this one is like, no bullshit, just fantastic interaction and sultry, perfect ‘smut’. Goddamn. This leaves me in a pile of goo not even for myself, but FOR JODY!

Let Go (oneshot) by @luci-in-trenchcoats

So bdsm seems to have been a theme in my life for the past month and I don’t know why, but this fucking fits the bill. I recently dodged a bullet with a ‘dom’ (read: a bossy guy who wanted nudes who ignored care and consent) and this fic is like, the complete opposite of what I experienced. I’ve read and done research and talked to enough people to know what real bdsm looks like and that saved me, and this fic only reinforces that proper bdsm lifestyle.

It’s gentle yet firm, and it forces you to let go of control even when you feel like you HAVE to hold onto it. That force caught me off guard when I read it, but it makes so much sense, and every aspect of this really, truly is well thought out and spot on, good, caring bdsm. If you’re interested in it, this is a great place to start your reading and research!

When 2 Is Better Than 1 (oneshot) by @wi-deangirl77

Not only is the smut fucking glorious in this, but Ketch’s gentle nature is 100% what makes this for me! I’m not used to reading him as gentle or caring and having him work with Dean in this to help the reader, not to fill his own needs, but truly coming at it from a place of care and worry, melts me into a pile of gooey feels.

Thank you all for the awesome work and great feedback!

These are not actual awards! This system is set up so everyone in the pond has a chance to share the love and promote a fic/author that has grabbed your attention. The more people that participate, and the more everyone remembers to submit their own fics after posting, the better this will be :D

THANK YOU ALL AGAIN, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

[etherealwaifgoddess]

One In A Million - Chpt.10

Summary: Now that you’ve made up your mind to stay, you can finally start planning out your future with the guys.

Word Count: 3.8k

Author’s Note: Hello lovelies! This is it, the last chapter! I feel like it’s gone so fast but here we are. The epilogue will be going up next so stay tuned. XOXO - Ash

Chapter Ten

Now that you’ve made up your mind to stay, your job in the typing pool seems just a little more mundane. It was fine for the interim while you were just biding time before going back, but now you can’t possibly see yourself doing this for the next forty years. The only problem is, you don’t have your degree in this time and you most likely won’t be able to get a job in a lab even if you did. Money isn’t a problem compliments of your supposed Sparrow status with the SSR but you don’t want to live off of that forever. You want to do something, anything, to keep busy. You’re daydreaming, walking the quiet early morning streets of Brooklyn when it comes to you. Or rather, you come to it.

Science was your first love and always would be, but your second love was books. When you stumble across the public library you can’t help but go inside. Public libraries are the same no matter what decade you’re in. The long, tall rows of books, the musty scent of paper thick in the air, children and adults alike lost in their reading. It’s comforting and reminds you of your childhood. You approach the harried looking girl at the main desk with a smile. “Excuse me. Hi. I’d like to get a library card, please.” you tell her.

The girl looks up through thick rimmed glasses with a smile of her own. “Sure, I just need you to fill out this slip and I’ll get you set up.” she hands you a three by five card for your name and address and you scrawl your information down for her. It dawns on you that you’ll never get to use your real name again. You’ll forever be Rose Rogers now and while there’s a small pang of loss for your old name, you could do a lot worse than being Mrs. Rogers. Handing your card back to the girl she files it quickly into the rolodex that houses everyone’s information. You stifle your laugh at how archaic it seems compared to the ease of saving information on a computer. 

The girl hands you a card with your name filled out on it and yawns loudly before she can get out a tired, “Here you go.”

“Long day?” you ask sympathetically. 

“The longest. Doreen had her baby and now she’s not coming back so we’re all working doubles trying to pick up the slack. We don’t even have anyone for the children's story time tomorrow now. It’s a mess.” 

“Are you looking to replace her? I used to volunteer at the library in school so I’m familiar with the Dewey Decimal System. I moved here not too long ago and I’m looking for work.” 

“Really? That would be amazing. Can you come back tomorrow to meet with Mr. Cooper? He runs the place and will be the one who has final say, but if you know what the Dewey Decimal is I’m sure he’ll take you. Most girls coming in take forever to train.” 

“Sure, what time?”

The girl, whose name you learn is Lorna, checks the calendar in the back and then gives you a time frame to stop by in. She promises to give her boss a heads up that you’re coming in so hopefully he’s expecting you. Lorna jokes that she’ll put in a good word for you too since you seem a heck of a lot nicer than Doreen ever was.

You want to tell the guys about your potential new job but also don’t want to jinx anything. Your supervisor at the SSR is kind and lets you take an early lunch for a “doctor’s appointment” so that you can run across town to meet Mr. Cooper at the library. After you explain your experience, you really did volunteer at your high school’s library, he hires you on the spot, offering for you to start the following week. You feel guilty going back to the office to put in your notice and wonder if this means the bank account you were given will be retracted when you quit. There’s a gnawing feeling in the pit of your stomach when you wonder if your new job will pay enough to keep you afloat the way you have been. It’ll be tighter for sure but you do the math quickly in your head and think it should all work out. 

You pop into Agent Wilson’s office when you get back to the office, wanting to rip the band-aid off rather than worrying about what if’s. 

“Rose, good to see you again.” Wilson stands to greet you as you step into his office.

“You as well, Agent Wilson.” you reply shaking his hand.

“And to what do I owe this visit? Is the reception pool treating you well?”

“Very well sir, thank you. But about that actually. I’ve found another job that’s more aligned with my career goals. I’ve been given the opportunity to be a librarian and it’s closer to where my husband and I moved. I know I was set up here due to my… status, but I’ll be staying in Brooklyn and would like to set up a real life here. I understand if you’ll need the funds back from the account I was given and I have a personal check here so you can access and close the account. I haven’t used all that much so far.” 

“Rose, Rose, slow down a minute. The SSR takes care of its assets even when they choose to leave the life. You were never obligated to stay here after declaring Sparrow protocol. The account is yours, we cut ties to the funds as soon as identities are handed out, we have no desire to take that security from you. I’m happy for you, that you’ve made a life here. Most girls don’t re-acclimate as easily and it’s a blessing when they do. I hope you’ll stop by from time to time to say hello.” 

“I will, thank you sir. Truly, thank you.” 

“It’s no trouble at all. Just let Marge know you’re moving on, she’ll understand. And take care of yourself.”

“Thank you, you too.” You shake Agent Wilson’s hand once again and head out into the more brightly lit main office. 

Marge and the girls are sad to see you go and you offer to stay on until the end of the week so as not to leave them in the lurch. Marge insists you’re free to go whenever but the girls plan a goodbye party for you for Friday. 

Steve is home when you get back, Bucky will be along in another hour but you can’t wait to share your good news. Steve is over the moon for you, though he does admit he wishes you had told them you weren’t happy in the typing pool. They would have encouraged you to find something new sooner like you and Bucky had done for him when he took the job at the paper. Never one to miss an opportunity to celebrate, Steve goes down the block under the guise of getting a loaf of bread to go with dinner. He comes back with bread and glossy chocolate cake, Congratulations written in cursive on top in bright white lettering. You’re kissing Steve and giggling when Bucky finally comes home, tired and worn out from his day. 

“What’s all this then?” he asks, setting his coat on the hook by the door. 

“Our girl has some really great news, Buck.” Steve tells him, a hand still around your waist.

You hold the cake up to show him the writing on top with a smile. 

Bucky’s face crumples, shock and hope and awe flickering across it as he crosses the room to the two of you. You can’t figure out what has him so moved until he presses his rough palms against your belly. “Rose?” he croaks through a tight throat.

“Oh!” you gasp, realizing what he was thinking. “No, no, not that. I’m sorry for scaring you. We probably should have been clear right off the bat. I got a new job. I’m going to be a librarian starting next week.” 

The light in Bucky’s eyes dims for a second before he can rally himself to be excited for you. “That’s wonderful, darlin’. I’m so proud of you. I always thought you were too smart to be sitting around in a typing pool anyway.” 

“Thanks, baby. Dinner is almost ready, why don’t you go wash up?” 

Bucky gives you a smile that doesn’t quite meet his eyes and heads off to the bedroom to change. 

You look to Steve who looks as thrown off as you are. “He’ll be okay.” Steve assures you, giving you a quick hug, “Let’s go finish up.” he takes your hand and leads you back to the kitchen where you fall back into an easy rhythm preparing dinner for the three of you. 

The celebratory air of dinner is somehow dimmed by Bucky’s reaction to your news. You had never really put much thought into a family of your own. It makes sense that Bucky would want one, he came from a large, loving family after all. And in this era, men are taught to aspire to having a wife and family of their own. Your birth control shot was up to date when you left but it should have run out a month or two ago. Now that you’re thinking about it, it’s sheer luck that you aren’t pregnant by now and you make a mental note to be more careful going forward. You can’t exactly get a Depo booster in the ‘40s and the birth control pill won’t even be invented for another eight years. You’ll just have to time your cycle and be careful going forward. Unless. Unless you don’t want to be. Images of a little boy with floppy blonde hair and bright blue eyes comes to mind, followed by a little girl with chestnut curls and wide grey-blue eyes. You could have that, if you wanted. If they wanted. You’d never thought to ask until now, and now that you have, the questions are burning bright in your chest. 

The three of you are sitting in the living room when you finally can’t stand it anymore. “We need to talk about this.” you announce, setting down your book. Steve looks up from his sketch pad, startled.

“I’m sorry, darlin’.” Bucky sighs setting aside his crossword puzzle. “It was your big night and I’ve ruined it by bein’ dumb.” 

“You’ve done no such thing.” you scold him lightly, “But your face when you thought. Well. When you thought I was pregnant. Baby, is that something you want? Because if it is, we have to talk about this.” 

“It’s not right for me to ask you to-”

“James Buchanan Barnes.” you cut him off, “We are all adults here. You are not asking me for a damn thing. We need to be able to talk about what we want, all of us. That includes you, Steve. If we all want the same thing then great, if we don’t then we need to talk it out and come to an agreement. Now, let’s start over. Bucky, do you want to have a baby with me?”

Bucky’s jaw drops, stunned by your outburst and the frankness of which you’re talking about things. “God,” he sighs, raking a hand through his hair, “Of course I do. The idea of seeing you all full up with a baby, our baby. It kills me, darlin’. I’d have as many little chubby babies runnin’ around here as we could stand. Maybe a few little bratty blonde ones too.” he gives Steve a smirk and Steve visibly pales.

“Stevie, honey, what’s wrong?” you ask, worried.

“No, I can’t. I won’t. You know how often I get sick and how bad it can get. Believe it or not, it was worse when I was a kid. I was on death’s door more times than I can count. Nothing about my body has ever worked the way it should, why would I want to put some poor kid through all that too? Of course I want a little baby with your eyes and my smile, but what kind of life am I setting it up for when it’s half me? I couldn’t bear it.” 

“Stevie, no.” Bucky croaks, rushing over to him and lifting him off of his chair. Bucky slides into his seat, pulling Steve onto his lap so he can hold him tightly, tears shining bright in his eyes. “You would be the most amazing papa to any kid. And our girl is strong, who says your kids would have even one of the problems you had? They might be all her and only get your sass. We can’t know for sure.” 

“He’s right.” you chime in, “We wouldn’t know for sure if a baby of ours would have your health issues. And even if they did, medicine is getting better every day. They wouldn’t necessarily have such a rough time even if they did have issues. Be honest, honey. Do you want a baby with me?”

Steve thinks for a long moment, giving into the warmth radiating from Bucky. “I don’t think I need it to be my own. I want a baby with you, but if it’s Bucky’s I’d be just as happy if it were my own. And then we wouldn’t have to worry about it being sick like me.” 

“You’re always so worried about us, what about you?” Bucky asks you. 

“I never really thought I’d have a family but I think I want one now, with you two. Not saying right now. I’d like to hold off a little while so we can enjoy it just being the three of us for a bit, but someday. Yeah. It might be nice to have a few little kids running around.” 

“Let’s give it a year.” Steve suggests, “We’ll take the time to get you settled at your new job and start saving up. Maybe take a vacation too while it’s just us. Then next year we can decide if we want to try or hold off. I’ll go with you to the doctor’s if you want one of those diaphragms. Or me and Buck could start buying rubbers. Whatever you want. We probably should’a thought of this sooner.” 

“It’s okay, I wasn’t thinking about it either. Condoms are easier and I can track things so we’d only have to use them when I’m fertile.” 

“Whatever you want, doll.” Steve assures you, getting up from his spot on Bucky’s lap and joining you on the sofa to pull you in for a long hug.

“All I want is you. Both of you.” you whisper against his neck. 

Bucky is silent as a ghost as he slips in on your other side so you’re sandwiched between your guys. You can’t help but be relieved that the conversation was easier than you expected. It’s hard to believe Steve is so fearful of his DNA being passed along but it makes sense after everything he’s battled in his life. Maybe someday he’ll change his mind but you’re not going to push him. 

Leaving the girls at the typing pool is bittersweet. You exchange addresses and phone numbers so you can stay in touch and promise to host a girl’s night as soon as you can. You’re surprised to realize that you really had made a few good friends at the SSR and that you’ll miss the community of your little group. 

Your first day of work at the library proves to be easier than you expected. A grey haired woman named Agnes gives you a tour before training you on the rolodex and their filing system. It’s more complicated than scanning things into a computerized system but at least it’s easy to understand. Checking in and out books takes a few minutes of finding people’s cards and logging their books, stamping each with a due date before handing them back. No one seems to mind though, happily chatting with you while you log their books. Agnes explains that Doreen, who apparently no one will miss, used to lead the children’s story time on Monday mornings. Agnes claims her arthritis acts up making it hard to hold the books up for too long so you’re given the task going forward. You can’t really complain, the children are eager and sweet, cheering when you do funny voices and build suspense. 

By the end of the day you’re already planning improvements for the library. You’ve caught on quickly and couldn’t help but notice a few improvements that would help. You worry about rocking the boat, being so new, but Agnes encourages you to have at it. She claims they haven’t changed a thing since Grover Cleveland was in office. You spend your first week making small adjustments to make everyone’s lives easier. It’s not too much, just rearranging the main desk a little, decorating the children’s area to make it more cheery, setting out books to feature on the end caps of isles to draw people in. 

Your second week you decide to start deep cleaning. There’s always two of you there at the same time and the other women, most of them closer to Agnes’ age than yours, are content to sit behind the desk all day while you put books back and tidy up. You run around one Tuesday afternoon with a duster, going over every surface in the whole library. The next morning you attack the tall windows with newspapers and ammonia. You pick up a bottle of Murphy’s oil at the corner drug store and spend two days rubbing down every bit of wood in the place. By the end of that week you’re exhausted but happy and the library has never looked better. The other girls are still chattering the next week about much better it looks and how even the patrons are commenting. Mr. Cooper is apparently fretting that you’re too good for them and won’t last long there. You assure them you’re happy and plan on being there for the long haul. 

Steve and Bucky both notice a difference in you when you come home tired and sweaty at night. Bucky jokes they could use you down at the docks with how hard you work. They both comment on how much happier you seem and you agree with them. Working with books is much more fulfilling than typing all day. You want to expand their children’s program to twice a week, story time on Mondays and a craft time on Thursdays. You spend your free time at work putting together a plan to present to Mr. Cooper for permission. The library as it is now is nice, but it could be so much more. You want it to be a haven for the community, the way yours was growing up. You could coordinate study nights with the local schools and host literacy nights for adults who never had a chance to learn. Bucky and Steve listen as you ramble about the plans you have and exchange knowing smiles. You’re happier now than they’ve ever seen you and it seems your career change was exactly what you needed to really thrive. And you are thriving now, shockingly more than you think you ever did in modern times. You’ve found your place back time with your guys and your community. 

By the time your jump point comes it’s easier than you expected to write the letter to your team. You tell them you’ve found happiness, a new career, and a love that triumphs all. You apologize for disrupting the timeline and explain that you’re certain there’s not steering it back on course. The slight over shooting of the jump date and your suggestions on what adjustments are needed to make the calibrations more precise are included as well. You make a list of everything you think might be useful for the research and let them know where the rest of your notes are kept in your desk. You don’t know what will be helpful to them and if they can’t have you, they can at least have your notes. You whip up a batch of brownies for the typing pool girls, an easy ploy to gain access to the inside of the SSR office so you can get downstairs in time. It’s with a guilty conscience that you chase a mouse around the trash bin out back, needing something to put the note and brooch on. You fashion the poor little field mouse a bow out of one of your ribbons, clipping the brooch to the back and the folded up letter as well. Thankfully the poor thing is too frightened to put up much of a fight and you stash the little guy in your pocketbook. 

The girls at the typing pool are thrilled to see you when you show up with the pan of brownies. The container is quickly emptied and you beg off to go wash it and say hello to one of the receptionists before leaving. You have six minutes to get set up. Quietly as you can, you slip down to the basement, setting up your jump point and counting down softly to the poor little mouse who’s trembling in your hand. You adjust it’s bow, note, and brooch one last time before sitting it down and activating the transport. The gemstone on the brooch flashes, once, twice, and a third time, the mouse holding blessedly still out of fright. You’re scarcely able to breathe until the white glow starts up and in a bright flash the mouse is gone. A few tears slip out despite yourself, silently wishing the little mouse well in the 21st century. You hope your team carries on their work and goes on to do even more great things. A part of you will always miss them but you know you’re where you’re meant to be. 

You wipe your eyes, sniffling back the rest of your tears, and head back upstairs to say goodbye to the girls before you have to get to work across town at the library. It’s craft day for the kids and you’re going to be teaching them how to make hand print flowers. The craft is certain to be messy, creative, and loads of fun. 

The bright early summer sun blinds you as you step outside onto the bustling city sidewalk and it hits you. This is your life now. There is no last chance to take it back anymore. You are permanently living in this time with your guys, and your job, and your new friends. You take a deep breath of balmy city air and know you wouldn’t want it any other way. 

Tag list! @wolfarrowepz​

[avengerscompound]

She Sets the City on Fire - Father Knows Best

She Sets the City on Fire: A Bruce Banner Fanfic

MASTERLIST PREVIOUS //

Buy me a ☕ Square:  @brucebannerbingo​ - U3 Free Space

Rating:  E

Warning:  Age Gap, asshole parents, anxiety, smut (MF, light ds, oral sex, throat fucking, rough sex, a small amount of spanking, vaginal sex, gags)

Word Count:  4380

Pairing:  Bruce Banner x OFC (Summer)

Summary:  Bruce is drawn to Summer.  She’s everything he wished he could be.  Carefree, exciting, and she knows exactly who she is.  There are so many reasons a relationship with her wouldn’t work.  So why can’t he stop thinking about her?

A/N: On the first chapter

6. Father Knows Best

Bruce and Summer walked up West 88th hand in hand.  They were driving out to Westchester so Bruce could meet Summer’s parents.  He was nervous.  Neither Summer nor Aiden talked about their parents much - at least not with Bruce - but after Tony had hinted it was someone famous, he had looked it up.

Summer’s father was media mogul Chester Martin.  The man who’s media empire included every single right-wing and anti-superhero outlet from New York’s Daily Bugle to the Globe-News.  It was his publications that helped the government cover up the Hulk and had Bruce listed as public enemy number one and pushed as some kind of global terrorist.  With that and what he had heard about him buying affection and ignoring Aidan’s existence for most of his life, Bruce was not foreseeing a warm reception.  Bruce was just thankful that he was actually younger than Chester.  He could only imagine how much worse it would be if they were from the same generation.  Even though the age-gap between Chester and Summer’s mother was over 30 years, Bruce didn’t think that hypocrisy would be enough of a reason to not use the age thing as a reason that Bruce wasn’t good enough for his daughter.

Summer had assured him that there wouldn’t be a problem.  That at worse he probably wouldn’t even notice that Bruce was there and that her mother liked everyone and she’d be welcoming to him.  Aidan had confirmed that Summer wasn’t lying about her mother, but that there was no way their father would like him.  He would pretend for Summer but in Chester’s eyes, no one was good enough for Summer, let alone some middle-aged, liberal, with an anger issue.  Aidan had left him one piece of advice, don’t let Chester get him on his own.

“Summer, are you sure what I’m wearing is fine?”  He asked for the eighth time that day.  He had not been able to decide if he should go formal or casual and ended up landing on a strange mix of both, with navy khakis, a dark purple button-up shirt that he left loose at the collar, a dark brown suit jacket, and because it was cooling off a long black coat.  Summer, on the other hand, looked like she stepped off the silver screen in a vintage skirt suit in pale pink wool with black trim.

“You look just like you.  And I love you.  So he’ll love you.”  Summer said, lifting his hand up into the air and spinning under it.  “Just relax, Brucie. I’ll protect you.”

They reached the garage where Summer kept her car.  A valet came out and she handed him a card.  It wasn’t long before he re-emerged driving a vintage MG Roadster in dark burgundy.

“Wow,” Bruce said, as Summer exchanged her keys for a tip.  He ran his hand over the hood of the car.  “Tony would love this.”

“I’m sure he could afford to buy one if he wanted.”  Summer joked.

“Do you think…” He paused and fidgeted with his hands.  Tony never let him drive one of his cars and he always wanted to.  Tony wasn’t Summer though.  Maybe she wouldn’t have that little hang-up about needing to be behind the wheel.  “Could I please drive?”

“Can you drive stick?”  She asked.

He nodded.  “I learned on the run.”

Summer threw him the keys and got into the passenger seat, digging in the glove compartment and pulling out a silk scarf that she wrapped around her hair while Bruce got into the driver's side and started the car.

“This is such a beautiful car,” Bruce said.  He wasn’t exactly what you’d call a ‘car person’.  Not the way Tony was.  He wasn’t into the engines or horsepower except for the basic way he was into that kind of science in general.  He could appreciate aesthetics though, and the rumble of an engine and the way he just felt like maybe the cool factor might rub off on him just a little.  Oh god… was he going through a midlife crisis after all?

“Thanks,” Summer said, hanging her arm over the door.  “My dad got it for my 21st.”

“He bought you a car that’s older than you.”  Bruce mused.

“It’s older than you too, Grandpa.  She’s a ‘63.”  Summer teased.

“You got a thing for the elderly?”  Bruce teased.

Summer laughed and leaned over, kissing his cheek.  “You know it.  I’m a grave robber.”

As they drove the 45 minutes to Westchester, Bruce kept stealing glances at Summer.  Something about the vintage suit, the scarf around her hair to protect it from the wind and the large round sunglasses she’d put on made her look like a 50s starlet.  She was in particularly high spirits today too, which was saying something for the ever carefree Summer.  She didn’t stop smiling the entire trip up.  Her hand was usually somewhere on Bruce, often sliding it’s way up his inner seam, sometimes on his hand, or playing with his hair.

Summer provided the directions and as they made their way into Westchester the houses just kept getting bigger and bigger and the space between each one became more vast until they became more like compounds than simply mansions. When they reached what was the biggest one yet he turned, entered the code at the gate and drove up the winding drive to the enormous mansion.

They got out of the car and Summer came around and took Bruce’s hand.  “He’s nice.  I protect you anyway, but he’ll love you.”

Bruce sighed.  He wasn’t so sure that they’d think much of each other, to be honest.  Chester Martin was a hateful bigot who had no concept of what it was like to struggle at all.  How Summer and Aidan had come out of that family even half the decent people they were was impressive, but Bruce was no stranger to good coming out of such bad.

As they made their way up the steps Chester and Abigail came out the front to meet them.  Summer let Bruce’s hand go and ran to them, hugging them both tightly.  Bruce continued his way up alone and when he finally reached them, Summer pulled back and introduced him.

Abigail greeted Bruce warmly, hugging him and kissing his cheek.  She was still quite young, in fact, the thought slipped into his head that Abigail was actually 2 years younger than Bruce was.  The thought freaked him out a little bit and he pushed it away and smothered it.  Abigale was slender and wore her long red hair in a bun.  She had the same clear blue eyes as Summer. In fact, Summer had taken after Abigail to the point it looked like she’d been cloned.  Which was good for her really, because as beautiful as her mother was, Chester Martin looked like a bloated, wrinkly toad.

He greeted Bruce with a firm handshake and a patronizing tone.  The followed him inside where Bruce met Summer’s sister Dakota.  Dakota looked a lot like Summer, though she had the dark hair and eyes of her father.  She barely even looked up from her phone when Summer walked in but when Summer said Bruce’s name her eyes snapped up.

“You’re Bruce Banner!”  She said, putting her phone away.

“That’s right.”  He said, feeling a little awkward.  Summer took a seat on a large leather couch and patted the spot beside her.

Dakota immediately moved from where she was sitting and sat down next to Bruce, pressing herself against him.  “I didn’t know you were dating an Avenger, Sum.  Why didn’t you tell us?”

“I told you his name was Bruce,” Summer said.

Dakota leaned towards her sister, her breast pressing against Bruce’s arm.  “You know what I mean.”

“I really don’t, Dakota,” Summer said.

Dakota sighed and her knuckles brushed up the side of Bruce’s thigh.

Chester took a seat in one of the wing-backed chairs opposite them while Abigail took a more comfortable looking sofa seat next to him.

“How exactly did the two of you meet?”  Chester asked.

Thus started the grilling.  Most questions seemed to try and pry out how long they’d been dating, what they did when they were together, and how serious they actually were.  The amount the Martins seemed to know about their daughter could fit in a thimble.  Chester’s questioning seemed to imply that Summer was an innocent young girl and Bruce was just there to corrupt her.

At some point, a staff member came in and poured everyone drinks before disappearing again.  After what felt like they’d been questioning forever, Chester looked at his watch.  “Girls, can you check and see what’s taking the kitchen so long with lunch?”

Summer jumped to her feet and practically skipped from the room after kissing Bruce on the forehead.  Dakota slouched after her.  When they were out of earshot, Chester turned to Bruce.

“I am not having my daughter being dragged into your Avengers lifestyle.  I know the kind of things Stark gets up to and I don’t want her life to be put in danger for associating with the likes of you,” Chester seethed.  “When you leave here today, you will break up with her.  You’ll let her down easy, but I don’t want to see you here again.”

Bruce’s heart started hammering in his chest, and he could feel the pulse in his ear and a shove from the Hulk in the back of his head.  “E- excuse me?”

“You heard me.  How dare you put my daughter in danger of being hurt by that thing inside you?”  Chester snapped.  “What is she doing with you anyway?  She’s a straight-A student, she is above being corrupted by some lecherous middle-aged man.  I won’t allow it.”

The hypocrisy was so thick that Bruce could almost taste it.  Anger started bubbling up inside him and he couldn’t seem to get it under control.  “Don’t you think Summer should get a say in this?”

“No.  I don’t.”  Chester said.  “You will be breaking up with her.  If you don’t there will be consequences.  And if you think for a second I can’t make your life a living hell, you’re sadly mistaken.”

Bruce’s mind raced.  Memories of how the press had treated him when he was on the run mixed with headlines about him hurting Summer.  He couldn’t hear anything above the thud of his pulse in his ears.  There was a shove from Hulk and he was sucked into the dark.

Hulk roared and swung his fist, shattering the coffee table in front of him.  He wasn’t sure where he was exactly or what was wrong.  There was no gunfire or explosions to point him at his target.  All he knew was that Banner had been angry and scared and it was time for him to step in.  

The couple in front of him was backing up against the wall, but the woman who looked so much like pretty Summer hand her hands up in placation.  “Please don’t hurt us.”

Hulk huffed.  Usually, when they were begging not to be hurt it was a pretty good sign they needed to be.  The door crashed open behind him and he spun around and growled.  In front of him was pretty Summer and he felt something in him relax a little.  Behind her stood a younger girl with dark hair who looked both surprised and scared.  He took two steps towards Summer, hoping she might have an answer to why Hulk was here.

“Big guy?”  She said, a little confused.  She put her hand on his arm and stepped around him, standing in front of him like she wanted to shield him.  “What did you do to him?”  She yelled.

“Us?”  The old man argued.  “Your boyfriend just turned into a monster and somehow that’s our fault.”

“Daddy!”  Summer snapped.  “I know you think I don’t know what you say to the people I bring home.  But I do.  I hoped you might not be stupid though.  What did you say that upset him so much?”

“I told him to break up with you!  You’re too good for him Summer!  He’s older than your mother!”  The man argued.

Summer took a deep breath and balled her hands into tiny fists.  Hulk squared up behind her, breathing heavily.  “Daddy, I love you, but you can be a huge asshole sometimes.”  She turned to Hulk and touched his wrist.  “Hey, you want to come outside with me.  We have horses.  I want to show you.”

Hulk smiled and wrapped his large hand around Summer’s tiny waist.  As she led him out of the room, Summer stopped at the girl who was still looking at Hulk stunned.  “Can you get some of Daddy’s clothes and bring them out to the stable?”  She said quietly.

The girl nodded.  “Yeah… yeah okay.”

“Thanks, Dakota,” Summer said and led Hulk outside.

He lumbered after beautiful Summer through the grounds.  “I’m sorry about my dad.  He can be a bit much.”  She said.

“Hulk not mind.  Hulk used to it.”  He rumbled.

“You shouldn’t be used to it though.  It’s mean.  Did Bruce get really upset?”  She asked.

Hulk nodded.  “Puny Banner.  Not like being questioned.  Hulk here now.”

She led him into a stable and Hulk began to look at the horses.  He always liked being around animals.  Animals never judged him.  The horses all let him pat them and feed them hay.  Summer introduced him to each one and gradually Hulk calmed completely and was just enjoying that he got to spend some time with her.

The brown-haired girl showed up with her arms full of clothes.  “You think this stuff will be okay?”  She asked as she handed them over to Summer.

“Yeah, it’ll be fine.  Thanks, Dee,” Summer said and put it on a bench.  “Hey Big Guy, this is my sister Dakota.  Dakota, this is the Hulk.”

Dakota raised her hand in a wave.  “Nice to meet you.”

Hulk huffed and nodded his head.

“You’re not scared of him?”  Dakota asked her sister.

Summer shook her head and patted Hulk’s hand.  “He’s my friend.  It’s nice getting to see him.  I just wish it wasn’t because of something dad said.”

Dakota shrugged.  “You should have seen him with the last guy I bought home.  Didn’t even try and chase him off in private.”

Summer giggled.  “I get he’s trying to protect us… I just…”

“Yeah…” Dakota agreed and looked up at Hulk.  “Can you introduce me to Cap?”

Hulk furrowed his brow.  “Don’t know.”

“Dakota, you’re 17!  He’s over 100!”  Summer yelped.

“Yeah, yeah.   And he’s hot as fuck,” Dakota said.

Hulk could feel Bruce niggling at the back of his head and he huffed and put his hand on Summer’s back.  “Banner want back.  Hulk go.”

Summer leaned up and kissed Hulk’s cheek.  “It was nice to see you.”

He nodded and stepped back and sunk back into the dark.

Bruce groaned and blinked around.  “Summer?”  He said, covering himself with his hands.

Summer grabbed the pile of clothes and gave them to him.  “It’s okay.  You’re okay.”

“Where are we?”  Bruce asked.

“The stables.  I thought it would be a good way to calm Hulk down,” she explained and looked at Dakota.  “You think we can have some alone time?”

“Yeah, whatever,” Dakota said, looking Bruce up and down before spinning and heading back to the house.

“Did I hurt anyone?”  Bruce asked as he started getting dressed.

“No, Brucie,” Summer said rubbing his back. “Just smashed a coffee table.  But he can afford to replace it.”

“I’m sorry,” Bruce said with a sigh.  He was starting to think maybe Chester was right after all.  Anything could have happened and it would have been his fault.

“No, Bruce.  I’m sorry for letting him talk to you like that.  I shouldn’t have left you alone,” she said.

He paused as he buttoned up his pants.  “Summer, this isn’t your fault.”

Summer wrapped her arms around his shoulders and nuzzled into his back.  “I’m not stupid, Bruce.  I know who my dad is.  I try and keep him accountable, but he sees me as this… perfect little flower and he doesn’t really listen to anything I actually say.  He’s still my dad though.  I knew he probably wouldn’t like you.  I knew I shouldn’t let him be alone with you.  But … it seemed to be going okay.  I slipped.”

Bruce turned and pulled her close.  “You don’t have to protect me from that.  I should be able to keep the anger under control.”

She leaned her forehead against his.  “Hulk didn’t hurt anyone.  I promise,” she said.  “What do you want to do?”

“I want to go home to bed and start thinking of ways to pretend none of this ever happened,” Bruce said.  “But we should probably go back inside.  I can’t just run from people like that.  Especially not when they’re your family.  Because… I love you, Summer.  I want you to be my family.”

Summer smiled.  “What if… we go to my room first.  We can do some of those things first,” she teased.  “Besides.  I wanted to show you my poster.”

Bruce smiled and kissed her nose.  “That sounds really good.”

Summer led him back inside through the back door and upstairs to her bedroom.  It was everything he’d hoped it would be.  Everything was pink and floral.  Shelves were littered with snow globes and ceramic unicorns.  There was a twin bed with a white metal frame in the middle of the room with a garish pink, floral bedspread that looked like it came right out of the 1970s.  Around the edge of the room acting as a kind of wallpaper-border, were pictures of various scientists, including, Nikola Tesla, Albert Einstein, Ada Lovelace, Alan Turing, and above her bed, a photograph of him.

“Look at that, you weren’t kidding, were you?”  He said, looking around at the photos.  “If you were so into science, why are you studying classics?”

Summer shrugged.  “I liked the history about how the discoveries were made more.  The lives of the people who made the grand discoveries.  How Évariste Galois died in a duel.  And the way Tesla was treated by Eddison.  I still cry when I think about how Turing was treated,” she stepped over to Bruce and put her hands on his chest.  “How Bruce Banner fell in love with some crazy redhead.”

Bruce chuckled.  “I thought you were going to say something about the accident.  Or being hunted.  Or becoming an Avenger.”

Summer shook her head.  “This bit is much more interesting.”  She brought her lips to his and they kissed deeply.  His arms circled around her and he pulled her tight against him and she began to unbutton his shirt.  “Bruce,” she whispered.  “I want you to fuck me so hard.  Use me like he thinks you must be.”

Bruce choked on air.  “You’re sure?”

“Yes, please,” she hummed, kissing just under his ear and pulled his shirt open.

He pulled back and looked at her, “I’ll do my best.  With the Hulk out I might have to pull back though.”  He said seriously.

“I understand, honey,” she said, smiling sweetly at him.

“Now, for me to feel okay about it, you need to be as quiet as you can.  Okay, sweet one?”

“Yes, sir,” she whispered.

“Then take off those clothes and get on your knees.”

Summer pulled back and took off her jacket and blouse.  She folded them in half and laid them over her desk.  She slipped her shoes off and shimmied out of her pencil skirt.  She was wearing a white lace bra with matching thong, a white garter belt and shimmering white stockings  Bruce hummed as he looked her up and down and pulled out his cock.

“Look at you,” he growled softly as he pumped his cock.  She bit her bottom lip and sunk to her knees in front of him, looking up at him with those clear blue eyes.

She ghosted her lips up his shaft and kitten licked along the slit.  Bruce hardened fully and wrapped her hair in his hand.  He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, centering himself.  When he let it out he looked down at her and pulled her hair.  “Open wide, honey.”

Summer opened her mouth and stuck her tongue out.  Bruce pushed his cock in past her lips and she closed them around him, engulfing his shaft in the warm, wet of her mouth.  She sucked up and down his length with that perfect amount of pressure to send a shiver running up his spine.  For a moment he just watched her and enjoyed the way that a dull tingle coiled up through him from his cock.

He pulled her hair back and looked down into her eyes.  “Hold still, honey.”

Summer opened her mouth and Bruce began to thrust down her throat.  “That’s it,” he purred.  “Take it.”

She moaned and gripped his thighs, breathing through the assault on her throat but never gagging or choking.  He brought himself right to the edge of orgasm with her mouth.  His cock throbbed and his balls tightened, ready to release  Just when he thought he’d gone too far, he let her go and pulled back.  Summer fell to her hands and knees panting.

“Fuck,” she gasped.  “That was so hot, Bruce.”

Bruce helped her to her feet and kissed the side of her neck.  “You’re the sexiest woman I’ve ever seen.  If it was hot, it was all you.”

She hummed, carding her fingers through his hair and making him purr softly as she unhooked his bra, tossing it aside.  “Fuck me hard, Bruce,” she whispered against his ear.

“You be good and stay quiet,” he said and spanked her ass.  He spun her around and bent her over the bed.  He yanked her thong down, snapping the clasps of her garters as he pulled them down.  He crouched as he dragged them down, kissing the insides of her thighs and nuzzling at her pussy.  When he stood again he ground against her and palmed her cunt, massaging it and slipping his fingers between her folds.  She mewled and wriggled against him, and he grabbed her thighs, tearing her stockings as he pulled her back flush against him.

“Please, Bruce,” Summer whined through clenched teeth. “I want your dick so bad.”

Bruce reached into his pants for his wallet and then remembered that these weren’t his clothes.  “Damnit.  Summer.  I don’t have any protection.”

Summer gripped the sheets and groaned.  “Have you been sleeping around?”

Bruce shook his head. “No.  Just you.”

“You know you can if you want to,” she said.

“Are we really having this conversation right now?”

Summer started laughing.  “Sorry.  My last test came back clean and I’ve only been with you since.  Cassie went down on me one time and I gave this guy I met at school a handjob, but I used a latex glove  So if you want to...”

Bruce blinked and shook his head.  “You’re on birth control?”

“Yes, sir,” she purred grinding her dripping cunt back against his cock.

Bruce took a few deep breaths, massaging her ass as he pictured how her cunt would feel as he fucked her raw.  His chest rose and fell as he pushed Hulk back, the deep rumble of his primal need pushing against him.  He gripped her hips and sunk deep into her.

She groaned and bit the quilt cover as she squeezed her pelvic floor around him, the warmth and wetness of her encompassing his shaft as it pressed down from every side.  It was the first time he’d even attempted sex without protection since Betty before the accident and he’d forgotten how different it felt.

“God, Summer.  You feel so good,” he groaned.

“Fuck me with that huge cock, Bruce,” she moaned in response.

He leaned over and started to rail into her.  She cried out and gripped the sheets as he pounded into her, each thrust, pushed her twin bed across the room a little more.  “Summer, quiet,” he growled, spanking her ass.

“Feels so good,” she mewled.  “You’re gonna have to gag me.”

He grabbed her panties and shoved them in her mouth to muffle her cries, and she groaned and clenched around him.  He picked up his pace, slamming into her and groaning as her cunt massaged his cock.  She reached between her legs and rubbed her clit.  It made her lose control completely.  Her whole body clenched up and she cried out loudly as her cunt spasmed around Bruce’s cock.

“I’m close, Summer,” Bruce moaned.  “Where do you want it.”

“Come on my tits, Bruce,” she begged.  “Paint me with it.”

Bruce groaned, gritting his teeth as he pulled out.  Summer slid off the bed, onto her knees and turned to face him, looking up at him as she squeezed her tits together.  He pumped his cock quickly as he looked down at her, completely overcome by lust.

He grunted and released, painting her breasts with hot ropes of come.  Summer hummed and ran her fingers through the mess.  As he helped her back to her feet she stuck her fingers in her mouth and sucked them clean.

“I can’t believe we just did that,” Bruce said, pulling her into his arms.  “With your parents downstairs and right after a Hulk out.”

“I’m a bad girl, Brucie,” she hummed, nuzzling at his neck.  “You should punish me next time.”

“Maybe I will, you dirty thing,” Bruce said.

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath.  “Did you want to get cleaned up and try having lunch with them?”

Bruce nodded.   “Yeah.  If they’re okay with me being here.”

She looked up at him and frowned a little.  “I’m sorry he was like that.  You don’t have to see them again if you don’t want to.” 

He held her close to him.  “No, Summer.  I love you so much.  I would spend every day with them if it meant I could be with you.”

// NEXT

[big-toe-energy]

Daddy Diaries pt.2

Parings: Steve Rogers x (younger)reader

Warnings: SMUT, ddlg kink, daddy, swear words.

Kinda longish

Part 2 to my mini whatever this is but you and Steve have a DDLG relationship and in this one you have an attitude and he puts you in your place! ;) also in these I imagine long haired and bearded Steve

It was 5 am and you were sound asleep when you felt a light rubbing on your back.

“Hey princess daddy’s gonna head to work, I’ll be back around noon. I love you.” He placed a kiss on your forehead

You rolled over, “can’t you just call in sick??”

“I’m afraid not beautiful, but I get to come home around lunch time so we can go out to eat anywhere you want okay?” He smiled at you

“Okay!” You said excitedly

“Now get some more sleep princess.” He kissed you and re-tucked you in

“Have a good day at work I love you.” You snuggled into the bed with your teddy bear

“I love you more” he whispered while walking out the door

~~~

After a few hours it was time for Steve to come home you had done everything you needed to do for the day, but you were still in your PJ’s.

You heard the keys rattle in the door while you were sitting on the couch in the living room, you got up and bolted to the door.

“DADDY!!” You practically screamed when he walked in.

“Baby!” He sat his stuff down and then He grabbed you and wrapped you around his waist

“How was work?” You kissed his forehead

“It was good, we learned more information on the bad guys this week.” He smiled

“You gonna beat them up?” You giggled

“Yes baby I’m gonna beat them up.” He chuckled

He sat you down and moved his way into the kitchen

“Hey beautiful what do you want for lunch?”

“I dunno..” You raised an eyebrow

“Also little lady, why aren’t you in regular clothes?” He said placing a hand on his hip

“I don’t want to wear clothes.” You said crossing your arms

“Oh you don’t want to?” He stepped closer to where you were, raising an eyebrow.

“No.” You said firmly

You took off your shirt and underwear “see I don’t need clothes, they are stupid.” You crossed your arms

He grabbed your waist and pulled you close.his mouth was next to your ear, “That’s quite a big attitude for such a little girl.” He whispered. You tired to get out of his grasp by squirming but taht only made him grip your sides harder

“Baby girl all you’re asking for is to be punished.” He shook his head

“No. I’m being good.” You gave him puppy eyes

“No you’re being kind of a brat.” He said in a low voice

“If you don’t get dressed in the next 10 minutes we won’t be leaving the house instead you will be getting punished baby.” He stared deeply into your eyes

“No.” You grossed your arms and turned out of his grasp away from him

Suddenly he grabbed your body and picked you up bridal style and carried you to the bedroom. Once in the bed room he layed you across his lap with your butt in the air, he slowly rubbed your soft cheeks before laying a solid smack against your left cheek. “That’s the first of 10.” Then he placed a solid smack on your right. You let out a small whine and he smacked you right cheek again, your wetness was growing after each hit, you were already at 7, you had 3 more to go. You wanted him to be in you, so you started to shake your ass up and down, “that’s not going to work baby.” And that only made him hit harder, the last 3 hits were the hardest. Your ass was bright red and covered in hand prints. He sat you up slowly on his lap, looking into your eyes. “Baby girl, I love you. Have you learned your lesion yet?” He kissed your forehead lightly seeing how glazed over your eyes were. “No.” You knew what you were doing and so did he, you wanted him to play rough. You wanted him to rip you apart. You wanted your way and you were going to get it. “Excuse me??” He raised an eyebrow, “I said no. Didn’t you hear me?” You crossed your arms and cocked your head back. Before you knew it Steve had wrapped his big hand around your neck and you were underneath him. “Good girls get to play, bad girls get punished.” His gripped tightened gently around your throat. He used his free hand to move his pants and underwear down his waist. You used your hands to play with his cock, you rubbed and grabbed at it until he moved his hips out of your reach “You know baby, this will go so much faster if you apologize.” He smirked devilishly into your eyes. “Fine. I’m sorry daddy, I’m really sorry now may I please have your cock?” You whined. “Good job baby girl.” With that he thrusted into you hard and fast, pumping in and out of your tight pussy until you were putty under him. Small moans escaped your mouth as he kissed all over your body. You were close to the edge you could feel a not tighten in your core, you knew it was coming, you were trying to focus on the words but he was fucking You senseless “daddy... can I please.... c-cum..” you moaned. “Sure thing beautiful.” With that you released onto him gripping his body closer to yours, “hey baby I’m gonna cum too.” He smirked and 3 more hard rams into you and then you were filled with his warm cum.

Steve plopped down next to you and you rolled into his chest.

“How was that baby? Are you okay?” His eyes glimmered

“I’m fine I promise daddy.” You blushed snuggling into him.

“How about you rest and I go run and grab us food from that Italian place you like?” He places a kiss on your forehead

“Sounds good to me, thank you.” You smiled brightly at him.

With that Steve stood up,threw his clothes on, put his shoes on, and proceeded out the door while you drifted off to sleep. Sex really takes something out of a person. ;)

[deamstellarus]

In Viata Asta (3)

Pairing: Stucky x Reader Word Count: 6k Warnings: Uhm…none? Maybe injuries and language?

A/N: Sorry this update is so late! My work schedule was shit last week so I was behind on editing and posting. So! I thought posting a little early would help make up for it, and it’s the longest so far? Also yes I know, this gif doesn’t have that much to do with this update but I love how it looks.

Series Masterlist | Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3

You woke up to murmured voices and mechanical beeps. You were in a bed in a very white room. You could only assume it was the infirmary of S.H.I.E.L.D. headquarters. Several IVs were attached to your arm. A woman with long dark hair in a bun and a white lab coat jotted something down on a clipboard beside you, then took her leave silently. Something was making your brain feel hazy. Your bets were on the strong antiseptics in the air, but it was more likely whatever pain meds they were feeding you. Your hand was bandaged now, your back probably was too for how tight it felt. You started to sit up in bed.

“You don’t want to do that, zvezdochka. With your luck, you’d probably pull all your stitches.” Natasha sat next to your bed in an uncomfortable chair, staring intensely at the screen of her tablet. She set it down on the small side table next to you, and pushed a button on a remote. Your bed shifted you into a seated position. She held a white cup with a straw to your lips. You drank greedily, the cool water soothing your dry throat. 

“How long...?” You croaked. 

“Only twenty-four hours. You lost a decent amount of blood but we got you back soon enough.”

Then why did it feel like you were laying on fire?

“Your back was practically shredded from the rocks.” Had you said that out loud? “You needed a few stitches but you’ll be fine. The boys should be back in a few minutes with snacks, if you’re hungry.”

You nodded. Or tried to; your neck was stiff. Natasha went back to her tablet, so you closed your eyes for a few more minutes before Steve and Sam’s voices echoed through the otherwise quiet space.

“Look who’s up. Miss Rough and Tumble.” Sam’s toothy grin lit up the room.

“How are you feeling, Blue?” Steve’s ocean eyes were filled with concern. He looked perfectly okay. As if he hadn’t almost drowned in an evil river. Stupid super soldier serum.

“Just peachy, Cap.”

“I thought we had a deal.”

“Sorry… Steve.” You smirked. Your stomach grumbled. Loudly. He chuckled and plopped the white paper bag he held on your lap. You opened it, smiling to yourself when you found a couple buttery croissants and one of those twisted glazed doughnuts. Natasha was giving away all of your secrets it seems. You chose a croissant, biting into the warm, flaky pastry. It was glorious.

“I see you still can't go very long without getting yourself into some kind of trouble," a familiar voice said. 

"Sorry, sir,  I—" Steve started before you cut him off.

"To be fair, I was doing fine on my own until these hooligans showed up." You muttered, mouth full, lazily gesturing to Steve, Natasha, and Sam, who stared at you indignantly.

"Don't be like that, Baby Blue!"

Fury looked unimpressed. "Excuses are—"

“...just lies we tell ourselves to justify doing something poorly." You finished his phrase, then swallowed. "It's nice to see you too, Nick."

"Nick?" Sam gasped.

"What, did you think his name was just Fury?"

"He doesn't exactly like when anyone calls him that," Sam grumbled.

"Aww, Nick! I knew you were going soft on me." 

Fury grunted, but eventually relented and came over to pat your shoulder until you flinched at his touch.

"Heal up, Agent. We’ll talk about the incident when you’re standing on your own two feet again," he said as he walked to the door.

"Not an agent," you called after him.

"We'll see about that." He threw out.

You pouted. You knew it was unbecoming of you, but this is what you'd been dreading. You didn't want to come back to S.H.I.E.L.D. That time of your life turned out to be so traumatic you ended up in a cabin by yourself for two years. But the reality is, you knew he'd get his way in the end. He always did.

__________

As far as doctors went, Dr. Alexandra Marks was patient and kind, and clearly had years of experience dealing with agents that tended to make reappearances in her infirmary. She was thorough with her diagnostics and made sure to emphasize what you could, but more importantly could not, do while you were in the recovery phase. Stitches, a heavy dose of fluids, and an advanced topical solution to help “speed up cell production”, and you were patched together the best you could be. Supposedly, they had a machine that was designed to generate skin, called the Cradle. It could have prevented the scarring, but it was out of commission due to an update or something. To be honest, it sounded too much like a cross between a crazy science experiment and a magic trick. Just the thought made you wary.  

“While you’re still lucid, I need you to give me a report of what happened,” Natasha said after Dr. Marks and the boys left. She attached a keyboard to her tablet, pulling the kickstand out so the whole thing could rest on the bed tray. “It’s just better to do this while it’s still fresh in your mind.”

“Yeah, I know.” You frowned at the screen. Blips of the incident flashed through your mind. “Honestly, I’m not too sure what I actually remember. It feels like it’s all a blur.”

“Any little detail helps,” she pushed. “Anything at all.” 

Weren’t those guys just Hydra goons though? But if that were the case, then why did it feel like there’s something more to this?

“What aren’t you telling me?” 

Her face went through a series of micro-expressions that you would have missed had you not known to look for them.

“Is it not Hydra that came after us?”

“We don’t know. But… it doesn’t look like it at this point.” She sighed. “Just write the report for now.”

“Okay.”

So you did. Any little thing you could remember from the men to the river, you included in your retelling. For the most part, you didn’t remember the men standing out in any way more than they seemed out of place in the general store. The majority of the normal clientele wore flannels, sweatshirts, or thick hunting jackets. The sleek black jackets and black caps they’d been wearing made them stand out. That being said, everything was nondescript, no labels, no logos. Pretty generic bad guys if you were being honest. The only thing you could think of was the small tattoo on the side of one of their necks, but you hadn’t been close enough to see the actual design. 

Maybe that was just you being paranoid and projecting. The tattoo was probably just a tattoo. 

A couple hours later, Dr. Marks released you, with a promise that you wouldn’t do “anything unnecessary like your troublemaker friends.” You snickered at that.  

Natasha gave you a tour of what you now learned was the Avengers Compound in upstate New York. Apparently, S.H.I.E.L.D. has been running part of the agency out of the side buildings that were part of the campus since they re-established, while there was still a segment in D.C. She pointed out the different buildings and rooms during the brief tour, but you were distracted, rightfully so, by the sheer amount of agents that gave you judgemental stares the entire way to the main Avengers building. You steeled your nerves; you wouldn’t give them anything more before you could physically defend yourself.

You stepped into an elevator after Natasha, the smooth doors sliding silently shut behind you. You allowed your shoulders a break from the stiff, upright posture you’d taken.

“You alright?” Natasha asked.

“Yup.”

“Ignore them. The most fun the majority of them have is over rumors and gossip.” Natasha said. “F.R.I.D.A.Y., third floor please.”

“Of course, Agent Romanoff,” a voice responded from above.

“A.I.?” you questioned. Natasha nodded. 

“F.R.I.D.A.Y. is one of Tony’s creations. She’ll help you with anything you need.”

“Huh, well thanks in advance then, F.R.I.D.A.Y.”

“It’s my pleasure… I cannot find your identification in any system, miss. What shall I call you?”

“Oh, you can call me Blue?”

“Very well. Enjoy your stay, Blue.”

The doors opened, revealing a hallway that lead to the left and right of the elevator and seemingly wrapped around the perimeter of the building. In the center, you were able to look down over a common area of sorts, with a variety of couches, tables, an oversized TV, and a kitchen off to the side. Natasha turned to the right, passing several doors before she stopped.

“This is your room.”

The door in front of you was a glossy white with a biometric scanner to the side. 

“Put your hand to the scanner,” she said. You did. A blue light shone through your hand, then with a soft click, the door slid open. The room was bigger than you thought it’d be, but knowing who owned the building, you didn’t expect anything less. There was a plush bed on one side of the room, a desk with a swivel chair on the opposite wall. Tall windows allowed natural light in the space. A fluffy rug and long drapes helped make the room less cold and clinical. But that wasn’t what drew your attention the most. 

Draped across the bed was the plush purple blanket Clint had bought you when you were first brought back to headquarters. It was so, so soft. On top of that was your green duffle bag. It was the one thing you took with you everywhere. It stayed stocked and ready for if you needed to leave at short notice.

“Thank you, Natasha.” 

“Of course,” she nodded.

"No chance of me going back to the cabin, huh?" You asked. Because as lonely as it had been there, it was yours, for the most part, and had become your safe place.

She shook her head. "Sorry, Blue. It wasn't discovered yet, but now they've seen your face, they know you're in the area. We can't take that chance."

You knew that, of course. She only confirmed it.

“There’s an ensuite bathroom behind that door, and a walk-in closet next to it,” Natasha pointed out. “It’s not the cabin, but it’s a good place to stay. You’ll like it here,” You nodded. 

She pulled you into her arms, her hands holding you like she didn't want to let go. 

"You scared me, zvezdochka," she whispered into your hair. 

"I know. I’m sorry.” It was rare for her to show so much emotion. As long as you’d known her, Natasha had always kept her feelings hidden.

A cough at the door disrupted the mood. 

“What does a guy have to do to get the famous Widow to hold him like that?” The man leaned against the door frame, dressed in jeans and a vintage band t-shirt. It seemed far too casual for such a well-known billionaire.

Beside you, Natasha pulled away and rolled her eyes. Like a switch, her blasé facade was back in full force.

“Tony, this is Blue. Blue, Tony Stark,” she introduced.

“What kind of name is Blue?” 

“It’s a nickname,” you said.

“Uh huh.” He squinted at you. “And your real name would be?”

“Leave it alone, Stark,” Natasha growled.

“I just find it strange that not only is there no record of her in S.H.I.E.L.D.’s database, but I can’t find her anywhere. Not a name, a city, a school, medical record. Nothing.”

Natasha bristled. Her eyes were narrowed slits. “I said leave it alone, Stark. She’s a personal friend of mine and Barton’s. Leave it alone.”

Tony glared at Natasha for a moment before yielding. 

“Fine, but we’re talking about this later.” To you, he said, “Welcome to the compound, kid.”

He took his leave, and Natasha shook her head. 

“He doesn’t like when he doesn’t know everything about something or someone. Unfortunately, he will get his way eventually. He’s pushy, but it comes from a good place.”

“Don’t worry about me, Tasha. I can handle him. Besides, I am living under his roof for now, he has a right to know what he wants to know.” 

“Only if you want to.” She puts a hand to your shoulder, before she walks to the door. But his inquiry did make you wonder…

“Why isn’t there a SHIELD file for me, or at least Agent M?”

“It may have gotten...lost when I released the files to the public.” 

“You deleted mine instead of yours?” You remember she had a list of aliases, most from before she joined “the good guys.”

She shrugged. “It was time for a new chapter anyway.” She waved it off as if it meant nothing, but she risked her own neck so you could remain nameless.

“Thank you, sestrenka.” She was always looking out for you.

“Dinner is at six. You’ll meet most of the rest of the team then. Take a nap, you look like you need it.” She winked.

“Tell me the truth, how bad does it look?” You tilted your head, indicating your back.

“Eh, it’s just a few stitches.” With that, she left, copper curls bouncing behind her. And really you had no choice but to take a nap like she said. Especially when the bed looked that comfortable. __________

Natasha lied. That was your only thought as you looked at your body in the mirror of your bathroom. It was not just a few stitches. Forty-seven in total. You cringed as you read off the report FRIDAY supplied. Hearing it from Dr. Marks, and reading it off the report, hadn’t quite prepared you visually for the reality of your injuries. From what you could tell, your back was covered in black zig-zags, reminiscent of Frankenstein's monster. At least as much as you could see that peeked out from underneath the white bandages and gauze. Plum-colored splotches covered your body. In addition to your back, your right hand also received six stitches, and your sprained ankle was now wrapped. And there were bags under your eyes. You looked awful and felt like a walking bruise. 

“The meeting will be starting in fifteen minutes, Blue,” F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice startled you.

“Thanks.” You’d have to get used to never quite being alone alone. 

Dinner passed by pretty well the night before, by your standards at least. Tony had apologized for his aggressive questioning, with a nudge from Pepper Potts, however wary of you he may still be. That was alright for now. Steve and Sam had taken the initiative to make you feel included in the conversations, though you were more content to observe the people around you. You were introduced to Col. James Rhodes, who had a dry sense of humor and held himself like a military man, and Dr. Bruce Banner, whose alter ego was a stark contrast to the mild-tempered man that had sat beside you. By far, the most fascinating member you’d met was Vision, an android with an English accent who reminded you vaguely of a curious child. 

Now you were heading to a meeting Fury requested you attend. A loose-fitted tee and a pair of sweatpants and you were on your way out the door, wishing you’d had the forethought to have packed makeup in your duffle bag. While you never needed it on the mountain, it would have helped make you look marginally more presentable and less dead. Especially on the walk through the interconnected buildings to the conference room where you stuck out like a sore thumb. Maybe Natasha could take you out to pick some things up soon.

You cracked the door open. Eight and a half pairs of eyes followed you to the empty seat next to Sam. You were the last one there. Of course. Fury stood at the head of the table, Maria Hill next to him, arms behind her back. She raised a perfectly sculpted eyebrow at you. Steve, Natasha, Tony, and three agents in uniform filled out the rest of the table. A projection screen behind Fury exhibited pictures of several men you didn’t recognize. 

“Now that we’re all here, let’s begin,” Fury said. He pointed between two of the five pictures on the screen. “These two men matched the facial recognition we were able to get off the cameras at the general store where the Captain and Agent M were first shot at, amongst civilians. There were no casualties in the store.”

You squinted. The men looked familiar now, especially without the hats to obstruct their faces. In the right image was the man you’d known to have the tattoo. Now that you could see it, on the left side of his neck, the small symbol looked like three triangles overlapping.

“They were found dead in their vehicle on the side of the road, SUV wrapped around a tree. This is confirmed with the reports Captain Rogers and Agent M gave upon arrival.” He pointed to the next two images. “These two were killed on sight by the extraction team in search of the Captain and Agent M.” He pointed to the last of the five head shots. “This last man was interrogated briefly by Agent Romanoff before he was terminated.”

“So were they Hydra agents from the mountain base?” Steve asked, confusion clear on his face.

“Not exactly,” Fury said.

“He wasn’t Hydra,” Natasha said. “He said Hydra was a group run by hot-headed leaders with imperfect ideals. He said what they were was bigger and better than Hydra could ever hope to be.”

“And who are ‘they’?” Steve pressed.

Natasha shrugged. “He didn’t say, just that there were more of them and now that they had a ‘confirmation,’” she made quotes with her fingers, “they’d have all they needed soon enough to execute the program. He didn’t elaborate on what the program was or what exactly they’d confirmed. But before I could really press him for more, he killed himself. Cyanide tooth capsule.”

“Long story short, we’re led to believe these were not Hydra agents that tracked the two of you down. There were no markings on the body that would express allegiance to the group, nor did any declare their motto.”

“So what are you saying?” Sam questioned.

“I’m saying there is another organization who has at least one of the two of you as their target of interest and until we know who they are, you need to watch your backs.”

“No offense, sir,” one of the agents began. “But what would terrorist organization want with her?” She was pretty, blonde, and had an intense look about her. She wasn’t outright rude, she had a point at least; you’ve basically been in isolation for two years. Besides, she had to be more than capable to be in this room to begin with; that didn’t mean her comment didn’t irk you. You pushed down the urge to get defensive, and schooled your face into a neutral mask.

Simultaneously, all eyes were on you.

“At the moment we’re not quite sure,” Fury admitted. “Agent M’s official history within S.H.I.E.L.D. is otherwise non-existent as far as the database is concerned. However, that doesn’t mean no one would recognize her if they worked under S.H.I.E.L.D. before the disbanding.”

“You think this group is a bunch of ex-S.H.I.E.L.D., ex-Hydra rogue agents?” Steve interjected.

“Anything is possible,” Fury said. “For now, it’s best to assume Rogers was the target and Agent M was just an additional person of interest by proxy.”  

“Keep your eyes and ears open for anything that could be related to this organization.” Maria advised. “If there really is another large-scale terrorist group among us, it’d be best to nip it in the bud as soon as possible.”

After the briefing, Fury held you back, as most of the others left the room. Maria relaxed by his side, her shoulders not quite as taut.

“You’re reinstated as an active agent, effective immediately, Agent M.” Fury held your gaze with his good eye. 

“I never said I wanted to come back to S.H.I.E.L.D.. In fact, I distinctly remember telling you I never wanted to be put in that situation again.” You glared back. The fingers on your left hand dug into your palm.

“We all have to do things we don’t want to do.” His large hand cupped your shoulder. “Just because you run away from something, doesn’t mean it goes away. You are good at what you do, and I refuse to let you waste your skills anymore.”

“But I—” He cut you off. 

“You’re not the only one who’s lost someone, Blue.”

He rarely called you by your nickname. It was always ‘Agent.’ You sighed. As difficult as Fury has always been, he’d never given you bad advice. He was the one who fought for you to stay and train to be a S.H.I.E.L.D. agent in the first place all those years ago. 

And yeah, maybe he was a tad softer on you than on the others. You’d seen him as a father figure of sorts. If he thought you should be reinstated and otherwise get your head out of your ass, then you really couldn’t argue.

“Fine.”

“I knew you’d see it my way.” Fury smirked, patting your shoulder twice heading towards the door. “As soon as you’re cleared for it, you’ll start training. Rest up. This little incident tells me you’ve lost your touch.”

__________

You sat on a couch in the common room a week later, skimming through the data, searching for anything you could connect to an unknown terrorist group. Without a name, it was hard to even associate what little frays you did find, and you were led to dead end after dead end. You set the laptop on the seat beside you and pressed the heels of your palms to your eyes. You looked to your Stark-issued phone for the time. It was well past midnight. This wasn’t the first time you’d been unable to sleep this week due to your mind racing about the implications of an unknown group trying to bring devastation for whatever reason they’ve deemed justifiable. The bad feeling in your gut only intensified the more frustrated you got at the lack of information. You really wanted to punch something, but you weren’t cleared to do more than brisk walking, lest you pull a stitch and elongate your recovery period.

You went to the kitchen and poured yourself some water. The cool liquid did nothing to soothe your restlessness. So instead, you paced the halls, a habit you picked up since you arrived. You passed the entryway to the lab. More specifically, Tony and Bruce’s lab. The other common occurrence you’d noticed every night were the lights in the lab always being on this late in the night. It seemed like Bruce usually went to bed early in the evening, preferring to start his day earlier than most. Which left Tony as the only possible night owl. 

You hesitated by the door before pulling it open and wandering through the cool-toned lights in the lab. Classic rock played softly through the speakers. Tony stood at table at the far end of the room, back hunched over. He was poking at something that caused small sparks to shoot from the device. His masked face was probably still too close to the object. 

You pulled out a stool from a neighboring table smoothly, just enough to make some noise, not enough to startle him. The masked tilted up, then focused once again on the task at hand.

“Not asleep, Agent M?” He said with an ever-so-slight sneer.

“You can call me Blue, you know.” Tony hadn’t warmed up to you like you’d hoped in the past week. He’d been distant, always in the lab. Natasha assured you that was normal for him though, so you took her word for it. 

“Do I know that?” He snipped. He worked in silence for a few moments, then he put down his tools and flipped up his mask. His eyes were rimmed in red, most likely from exhaustion. “You know, I just find it odd that everything was all fine and dandy until Rogers and Co took a trip to Washington State. Now there’s a new terrorist organization we have to look out for, and you show up with no official identity in any database on the planet, and one word from Fury and we’re supposed to just be okay with that? I’m not exactly a big believer of coincidences.”

“Just ask what you want to know, Stark. I don’t want to always feel like I’m tip-toeing around you.” Because it was annoying. 

“What’s your history with S.H.I.E.L.D.?” 

“Natasha and Clint were on a mission, found me as a teen in an abandoned warehouse. Brought me back to S.H.I.E.L.D.. I was an agent for three years.”

“What made you leave?” His gaze shifted elsewhere.

“Bad mission. I lost people I cared about.” His eyes found yours. “And with Hydra discovered inside the agency and S.H.I.E.L.D. dissolving, I just got out while I could.”

He was quiet for a long time. Absently, you twirled a random screw between your fingers.

“Tell me about the mission.”

You squeezed your eyes closed, sighing deeply. You recalled your worst nightmare like it was yesterday. You opened your mouth to begin when he put a hand up.

“Sorry. You don’t need to tell me.” He waved you away. “I can be insensitive when I’m tired.”

“It’s alright, I understand. Long story short, it went really, really wrong, and I couldn’t handle it anymore. I was young-”

“You’re still young, kid,” he quipped.

“-and I already couldn’t remember my past. Losing people, people I was especially close to, was too much.” Your breath shuddered. “I didn’t want to have to go through that again, so I left. Fury kept tabs on me, same with Natasha and Clint. But I swore I wasn’t going to be an agent anymore.”

“And now, here you are.”

“Here I am.”

Tony nodded. He got up unexpectedly, shuffling over to a hidden cupboard that housed a coffee maker. He came back with two mugs, steam spirals swirled in the air. You took a sip. Minty.

“It’s a peppermint blend. Some candy cane Christmas bullshit I got in a ‘thank you’ basket over the holiday. It’s barely coffee, not even caffeinated, but it tastes nice. Supposed to help clear the mind or something.”

You shrugged. Because it was good.

“So… you don’t remember your past?”

“I don’t even remember my name.”

“That must be tough.”

“Mhm,” you agreed.

“Listen, I’m sorry for the rough start. Genuinely. I spend so much of my time trying to do the best to defend against the bad, that I sometimes jump to conclusions and can be…”

“Overly suspicious?” You supplied.

“Yeah.”

“No worries, Stark…”

“Tony.”

“Tony,” you smiled. “I would have thought the same thing. I mean hell, I almost embedded a knife in Captain America’s head when I first met him.”

“I want to do that sometimes and I’ve known him for years.” He chuckled into his mug.

“So we’re good?” You didn’t want to just assume. A heart to heart doesn’t always form a friendship, but at least maybe you’d be on good terms now.

“We’re good, kid.” He smiled, a genuine grin on his lips. “Come on, you can help me test this new version of my gauntlets.”

Huh. Maybe you were wrong. __________

Another week passed before you were cleared for active duty. The scarring was… definitely there. Harsh, red lines spider-webbed around your back. Apparently, it healed faster than Dr. Marks anticipated, especially without the cradle. She seemed convinced the shorter recovery time meant there was a high chance the scarring would fade quickly as well. You weren’t exactly a vain person, but it didn’t look pretty as of now. At least you could cover it up easily. 

You were placed into a random group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, Group C apparently, and were given a schedule that listed off times for hand-to-hand combat training, weight training, endurance training, and shooting practice. You were convinced Steve loved to see you and the other recruits suffer as he pushed you all to run the laps of the course around the compound. The first day, you were dead after three miles, collapsing on the ground when the muscles in your legs gave up and lying on gravel sounded like a better idea. Steve only ordered you to get up and run again. You might have grumbled something about seeing if you’d ever save his life again.

Now you were able to keep up with the group. You found it a necessity, as you’d overheard in the locker room how they didn’t like you because you were “definitely sleeping with the Captain” or why else would you be there. You’d caught a stink eye more than once, and decided you had to push harder and tune them out. The chatter was useless. You knew the truth, so their opinions didn’t matter, but you didn’t want Steve to be accused of favoritism. He didn’t deserve any unnecessary backlash. 

By far, Natasha was thrilled to have you in training again. 

“You’re having too much fun with this Natasha,” you groaned from the mat. 

You were constantly being thrown by her, taunted that you’d lost your reflexes from being out of practice. You always ended up sore and bruised after a session. The snickers of the other agents really pissed you off, but you couldn’t exactly bite their heads off. Plus, even when you were in your best shape, you weren’t always able to out-Natasha Natasha; you’d only done it a few times. You knew first hand the rest of the agents in the room couldn’t do that. And you’d out-fought enough of them to know that.

“You’re making it easy on me,” she pulled you to your feet. “Maybe you should practice with someone with a little less agility for now?” She tilted her head to Sam, who’d over heard as he sauntered in and pulled a bitch face at her.

“Oh that’s low, girl. Real low.” But he joined you on the mat anyway.

Sam’s strikes were powerful and quick, like a boxer. He shuffled his feet, throwing punches at varying intervals. You dodged and blocked what you could. He got in a few hits before you picked up his pattern. That was the problem with most people in hand-to-hand. The body naturally wants to move in a rhythm, just like in running, but it’s too predictable in fighting, which is one of the reasons it was so hard to fight Natasha. She was slippery as a snake and it was hard to anticipate her next moves at the speed she moved.

You swung your arm out, your fist clipping him in his unprotected ribs, jumping out of range after. He stumbled back. You took the opportunity to rush him, diving low last minute to the space beneath his legs. You half-turned in your crouch and kicked your leg out, knocking him off balance and crashing into the mat. Finally.

“Adequate,” Natasha complimented. “But I’ve seen you do better. That was sloppy.”

You nodded, panting. She was right, but you’d take then win. It would take you a while to get back to what your skills had been, but even you had to admit. The ache of your abused muscles was actually rather nostalgic. __________

It was well after dinner when a knock at your door had you sitting up, causing the ice packs to tumble off your body. You sighed.

“Come in!”

Natasha stepped in, eyeing the ice packs. 

“Have we been too rough on you?” She teased. You didn’t take the bait.

“Nah. Just not used to it yet.”

Natasha nodded. “Just wanted to let you know Clint and the others are almost here. The quinjet should be landing in five, if you want to join us.”

“Of course.” You stumbled off the bed, and slipped your shoes on as you followed her to the hangar.

The hangar was cleaner than you would have thought. Relatively spotless and spacious. You and Natasha joined Steve, Sam, and Vision by the marker number 1 just as the rumble of an engine made the quinjet known. The noise echoed loudly in the space as the jet landed smoothly in its spot. The engines cut off, and with the high-pitched whir of the propellers winding down. The door opened down into a ramp. At first, no one came down, then there was a stumbling, mummy racing down the ramp toward you. Clint scooped you up into his arms, twirling you around, rambling a mile a minute.

“I thought Tasha was messing with me when she said you were here!” He was shouting in your ear, but you couldn’t get a word in edgewise. “When did you get here? How long are you staying? Wait! Are you back for real?”

“Barton, I’m pretty sure she can’t breathe.” Natasha’s voice cut through his excitement.

“Oh, right.” He plopped you down. You staggered before you caught yourself.

“It’s good to see you too, Robin Hood.” 

His eyes flitted over you, not overlooking the bruises from training this week.

“Geeze, you look awful. What happened?” 

“What is with the two of you?” You looked between him and Natasha. “You can’t just tell people they look awful when they’ve been beaten up. Besides, you’re one to talk,” you sassed. Clint was covered in butterfly bandages and deep purple bruises. “Can’t you go on one mission without coming back like you belong under a pyramid?”

“‘S not my fault.” Clint scratched the back of his neck. You stared at him pointedly. “Well, not all my fault.”

“Some things never change.” You grinned.

“Blue, this is Wanda Maximoff.” Natasha held her hand out to a girl around your age, with long auburn hair and sparkling green eyes. She looked at you hesitantly.

“Hi, I’m Blue.” You did a little wave, then immediately regretted it for how dumb you probably looked. 

“It’s nice to meet you.” She enveloped you in strong arms. She had an accent you couldn’t place, but it wasn’t so thick you couldn’t understand her. “I’ve heard quite a bit about you from Natasha and Clint. It’s nice to match the face with the name.”

You smiled, because she seemed very sweet. You could already see yourself being friends with her. You noticed Vision hovering just behind her, and when she pulled away, her hand reached back to find his. That was cute. You also now had questions, but that was for another time. You certainly weren’t close enough to just ask anyway.

Behind you, Steve was embracing a man with shoulder-length brown hair. He looked just as built and strong as Steve, maybe an inch shorter in height. Steve’s eyes were closed, his lips were moving, speaking too low for you to hear. The intimacy of their moment had you assuming they were more than friends. Definitely together. You wondered if the public had that knowledge, but it was more than likely not. The media would probably have a field day with that info.

Steve opened his eyes, meeting yours with a smile before he stepped back and called out to you.

“Hey Blue! Come over here and meet Bucky!”

His companion turned around and the breath caught in your throat. You did a double take. After all these years, you never thought you’d see him again. Maybe you’d dreamed you’d find your long lost friend, hoping that you both hadn’t changed too much to pass each other on the street someday without realizing. But you would recognize those eyes anywhere. 

Before you could open your mouth, he spoke. 

“Ingeras?” _________

A/N: Just now realized I haven’t given any translations for words so far, but I will from now on!

zvezdochka (Russian) - little star sestrenka (Russian) - sister, sis ingeras (Romanian) - angel

_________

In Viata Asta Taglist:  @rvgrsbrns​ @artsyspacebee​ @thelovelydreamer17​

[voxlette11]

Eric and Leo, Part 1

Two high-powered businessmen learn what it means to play with experimental drugs.

A/N: This is a re-post of something I originally authored in 2013/14 on Mpreg Central under the username BellLee (BellLee11) - I can’t remember because I lost my login info and access to the forums once permission regulations changed!

Content: unknowing mpreg, “getting” mpreg ;), weight gain, stuffing, accelerated pregnancy

It had been simple enough. One wave of his hand over Leo's morning tea in the break room was all it took, and the plan had been set into motion. He had watched as the other man unwittingly downed the microwave-warmed, lemon-flavored liquid, arousing himself in his anticipation. He had waited the suggested five weeks. All the signs had been there. He watched Leo, not noticeably closely but closer than usual, and noted the lack of energy - though the other man was very good at hiding it. Now Leo was back to normal, and Eric knew now was the right time.

Eric leaned back in his chair, listening to the leather groan and the wood creak with a sense of deep satisfaction. He got satisfaction from a lot of things, most of them having to do with his accomplishments. Being the product of a family rooted firmly in New York’s history and comprised completely of old money, he prided himself on his self-made beginnings. He’d climbed the ladder of success on his own. He’d gotten everything he’d ever wanted once he turned eighteen, and he’d gotten it for himself. No handouts as far as his adulthood was concerned. Money, job security, authority, respect, a nice apartment, and a boyfriend. 

There was, however, one thing he was missing. One thing he’d previously thought impossible, but which over the last several months he had taken great strides to ensure its reality.

Now he'd just have to get it started physically and he'd be set.

Eric mulled over the options in his quiet way, rocking the chair gently. He steepled his fingers and leaned forward, elbows resting on his expansive oaken desk. So many options...a selfish man would have manipulated or forced his will into being. Eric was anything but selfish...well, not entirely.

He wanted it to be enjoyable, for both of them. He really did care about Leo. The matter at hand just required a little...finesse.

Then, it came to him. Eric smiled, laying his palms flat on the smooth surface of his desk. He knew exactly how he was going to do this.

...

The night was dusky, brightened by the numerous shops, street lamps, and the passing taxi cabs. The lights on Fifth Avenue always seemed to burn a little brighter. They weren’t on Fifth, though. They were currently winding their way through the dimly lit, labyrinthine passageways that lead from their favorite bar to Eric’s apartment, which, coincidentally, was on Fifth Avenue.

Eric stumbled along, gently buzzed from his night out, supporting a much more inebriated Leo by the arm. The man was heavier than his five-foot stature let on, but Eric being of a strong and able-bodied proclivity himself easily helped Leo over the curbs and cracked pavement.

It had been just the two of them, out drinking in the pub that all the cubicle warmers from the typing pool liked to frequent. Both Leo and Eric were very well known there, bearing the respective titles Head Branch Manager and Vice-CEO. They were very well known, yes, and as a result they were left alone. Not many people knew how to handle Leo when he got drunk. Except, of course, for Eric.

Eric knew Leo would accept his invitation. The two of them had shared drinks and nights with one another numerous times before. It was not a new thing for them, to drink and sleep together. They used to do it quite a bit, never really talking about it but never really ignoring it either. There was an undeniable chemistry between the two of them, one they frequently took advantage of but never actively pursued. Any pleasure they had to glean from one another was typically circumstantial.

They had talked it over, years ago. Talked of a life together. It never happened, despite the ever-present potential. It had a lot to do with the fact that they were “fighting a corporate war” and their board members liked to put it, and even more to do with the distance between their socioeconomic status, their upbringing, their general differences in lifestyle and outlook.

This of course, did not stop Eric from internally referring to the other man as his boyfriend.

It just wasn't professional. But it felt so fucking good...

This time, though, Eric wasn't making any excuses for himself, or for Leo. Neither of them saw other people. They both wanted this, he knew it.

"Eric...you fucking shit head...," Leo slurred. "Are you going to fuck me senseless tonight, or am I going to have to do it myself..."

There it was. That was what he needed.

"Are you sure you want to?" He asked, pliantly. He wasn't going to do this without a yes.

"...did you eat lead chips today, yes...I want your...fucking monster cock...in my god damn ass..."

Leo made a grab for Eric's collar, digging his fingers into the expensive, tailored fabric and pulling himself up to press his lips against Eric's. Eric couldn't take it anymore.

He kissed Leo back, their tongues gliding over one another messily but in a very comfortable, familiar way. He wrapped his arms under Leo's ass - despite the small man's indignant noise of protest - and carried him into the darkness of a nearby alleyway. Eric could tell the two of them weren't going to make it to his apartment like they typically did. No prying eyes. There was a gay bar not a block away – two men sharing an abrupt fuck in an alleyway wouldn’t garner more attention than was necessary. 

He pressed Leo against the brick wall, pinning his wrists and still working against him. Leo moaned, a deep, throaty sounding noise that Eric loved to hear. Leo's small hand worked its way up and around from the inside of Eric’s thigh and palmed the front of his crotch. Eric closed his eyes, swallowing a gasp as his arousal began to make itself known.

"Leo," he said as he momentarily broke away.

"Mm...?" The other man’s usually sharp, dark eyes were more heavily-lidded than usual and drowsy-looking with pleasure.

"Turn around."

…

Leo obliged through his haze; at that moment there was nothing he wanted more than to feel Eric inside of him. He turned, bracing himself against the wall, feeling the rough brick under his soft, almost child-sized palms. He felt Eric gently nudge his legs apart with one large foot, encouraging the smaller man to make himself more vulnerable.

Leo groaned as Eric's hands smoothed up and down his straining thighs. One of Eric's hands was almost big enough to encompass half his upper leg. He could feel his tendons twitching, his groin beginning to exhibit that telltale ache. There was the sound of numerous belts being unbuckled, and it wasn't long before his pants and underwear were tugged off impatiently, exposing his ass to the brisk autumn night.

Eric spread Leo's cheeks with one hand, the other steadying him by firmly rooting itself on his left hip. Leo was quivering with anticipation.

"Be good for me, Leo."

Then there was a familiar sensation around his hole; Eric teased his tongue in, out, and around the small twitching ring of muscle. He gave a few long strokes, the wet mass of his tongue plunging deeper and deeper with each go around. Leo could hardly stand it, and they weren't even to the good part yet. He almost came right then and there when Eric stuck in the first finger.

It had been a while, and it burned. 

“Eric…it…it hurts…,” he whimpered. 

He felt the other man’s finger, huge, almost like a cock in its own right, gently work him open.

“Please…it feels good, but…aahHH!”

"Easy," the blond murmured, "Easy..."

 Leo's legs were shaking so hard he thought he'd fall over. Pre-cum was oozing out the tip of his painfully erect cock, smearing all over his shirt, which he was still wearing. It felt so good, and he was so drunk, he was only a little pissed about the inevitable dry cleaning he would have to pay for.

Slowly, after a few tense minutes of working with saliva and pre-cum, the burning sensation faded into a much more enjoyable sensual throbbing. Leo couldn't hold back his moans, each growing louder than the last as his pleasure mounted. He was incredibly tight right then, perhaps even more so than when they first started sleeping together, and they both knew it.

Eric added another finger.

"FUCK...fuck, Eric, I'm ready..."

Leo couldn't see it, but he knew the other man was frowning.

"Are you sure?"

"Any fucking more and I'll blow it...like a shitty teenager..."

"It's going to hurt, Leo."

"It never...," he grasped for the words to say. "It never didn't hurt....just...just put it in you fuckin-"

Before he could finish, Eric's massive cock was breaching his entrance. Leo gasped, surprised at the feeling, and that he could forget so quickly the tremendous aching stretch of the anus that accompanied it. He squirmed, impaled on what he dubbed, “the monster cock”, wanting to get away from the pain, but wanting to wait for the pleasure too.

"Shhh..." Eric whispered in his ear. "Relax, relax..." 

His hand was still rooted on Leo's hip, and now his thumb was tracing a soothing circular motion on his skin. 

"It'll feel better in a moment."

Leo felt Eric push into him further, grunting as his insides stretched and strained and struggled to accommodate him. Leo was a tiny man; he wasn't meant to be able to hold someone of Eric's size inside his ass, but yet, here they were.

"Don't fight it," Eric soothed. "You’re pushing against me."

"...not...nrgh...trying to-AH!"

Eric was now full hilt inside of him, all of his thickly veined nine inches. Leo felt incredibly full, almost too full. He could still feel his insides tensing and straining involuntarily, still trying to expel the foreign mass that was Eric’s cock. If he looked down, he could actually see a slight bulge in his abdomen where Eric's cock had made its home.

"Are you ready for me to move?" Eric asked, still tracing circles on his side with his thumb.

".....mhm."

The thumb tracing stopped and turned into gripping. Slowly, Eric drew back. Leo grimaced. Then, Eric was pushing forward again, and he felt like he was being split in half, ruined, violated. He couldn't hold back his grunts and groans of pain. Eric was being as gentle as possible, but these things were hard to avoid when the bottom was half the physical size of the top.

Once again, the pain slowly faded away in a repeat event of the evening’s earlier fingers, replaced by something that curled up Leo's spine in the most pleasurable way. It inflated his cock and made it hard to think, much less breathe.

"There!" He managed to gasp.

"Here?" Eric shifted so as to suit Leo's needs. He gave a few long, slow thrusts.

"Fuck!" Leo was practically seeing red, it felt so good. "Harder...faster..."

No sooner had he said the words than Eric let loose with explosive force, and Leo collided with the brick wall, his small yet muscular arms no longer strong enough to support the speed and power Eric was exerting. Eric was going faster than he ever had, and Leo was almost delirious with pleasure.

"Unh...unh..." he couldn't even speak if he tried. He looked down again. His abdomen was practically undulating with the rate at which his insides were being filled and emptied by Eric's cock.

He felt his arousal start to come to a peak.

"I....I'm...c-close..." he choked out.

Eric responded by rolling his hips, getting even deeper, going beyond the bundle of nerves which gave Leo his pleasure. Leo couldn't take it any longer. He came with a strangled cry and a shaking body, his finger nails raking against the brick and breaking themselves ragged. Seeing Leo come drew Eric's climax from him, and he grunted, hands tightening around Leo's waist; drawing back a little, he released his cum, an inordinate amount than usual, into Leo's bowels.

He withdrew slowly, carefully, Leo’s loosened asshole still clamped like a nymphomaniacal vice around his shaft.

Leo looked at his flaccid penis, legs and arms spread against the brick wall. If he didn't know better - and he was sure he did, because currently he was drunk as shit - he would have said his abdomen still looked like Eric was inside it. He still felt kind of full. Full, but suddenly tired as fuck. He turned, shakily, and grabbed the other man by the arm.

"Take me home."

...

When Eric woke up the next morning, Leo was already up. They were in Eric's apartment, because it had been closest. It had been a bit of a chore to finagle Leo's limp limbs back into his pants, belt, and shoes, but it was easy enough to carry him bridal style. He weighed under 150 pounds, after all.

Leo was currently tidying the room in general, silently folding a pile of Eric's laundry by the foot of the bed as was his wont.

"Good morning, you monster-cocked bastard," he teased in his brusque way, eyes on the laundry. "I won't be sitting right for one week or walking to work for the next two. Just thought I'd let you know."

Soon you won't be doing either of those things...and it'll be longer than for two weeks...

Eric smiled. "How's the hangover?"

Leo looked at him, eyebrow slightly raised. "What hangover? I'm still fucking buzzed."

Eric smiled, knowing that Leo was lying about still being drunk. His favorite thing to do to get over a hangover was laundry - when Eric had asked him why, once, Leo had told him it was because he liked the smell of the soap so much it got his mind off of how shitty he felt.

They sat in silence for a while, Eric watching contentedly as Leo put away the last dress shirt.

"You're socks have holes in them."

"You could sew them for me if you lived here."

Leo snorted. "You know how to fucking sew, Eric." He shut the small closet closed with a quick, firm snap of his wrists.

Eric rolled onto his side, goading the other man on.

"If you lived here," he continued. "You would do the cleaning and the sewing. I would do the cooking and take care of the kids."

"Kids?" Leo echoed. It made Eric's heart stutter in the most wonderful way when he said that word.

"What kids? I didn't realize kids were a factor under consideration," Leo smiled on the rare occasion. He wasn’t smiling right now, but right now there was an edge to his voice that Eric recognized as humor.

Eric trailed Leo with his eyes as he moved slowly around the room, listlessly picking up dirty socks and soiled Armani shirts with stiff, white collars.

"Our kids. You'd have them, of course."

Leo abandoned his laundry-oriented quest and crawled up next to Eric on the king-sized mattress. He positioned himself in a similar position to Eric’s, but in the reverse so as to face the other man.

"Men don't have kids," Leo said, eyes hooded. "I thought you were smarter than that."

Leo rolled off the bed, landing right side up with ease.

"Besides...," he made towards the door. "If we could have kids, you'd be the one getting knocked up. Not me."

...

Five Weeks Later

...

It was a typical day. Eric was fulfilling his typical duties, planning the next merger with a former rival company. It was taking a while this time. The funds weren’t matching up quite right, and he knew he’d eventually have to call in the corporate lawyer to sort out the paperwork. It was getting harder and harder to squeeze the necessary funds from the board members. They were still doing well overall as a company, but there were others who felt they should spend more time developing interior resources as opposed to making to acquisitions.

Eric needed to send out appeals to dozens of people both within the board and out. He had just written about fifteen personal notes to fifteen different typed official letters, filled with flattery and pragmatic pliancy. His hand was cramping, and he needed a walk.

He had been walking through the lower levels of the building for about fifteen minutes when he came across Leo.

"Good morning," he greeted, then gave pause. "...Leo, are you alright?"

Leo was pale, usually so, and it contrasted starkly with his dark hair. His lips were pressed together in a firm line, as if he were reluctant to talk. He looked a little unsteady on his feet.

He shook his head in the affirmative. 

"Yes, I'm fucking fi-" his words stopped suddenly as a look of surprise and disgust flitted across his face. Leo pushed past Eric and into the nearby bathroom so quickly it took Eric a few moments to figure out where he had gone to.

"Leo?" Concerned, Eric followed him inside.

He found him hunched over a toilet, on his hands and knees, dry-heaving and making a retching noise. Eric made to support him but stopped when Leo held up a hand.

After a few minutes of dry heaving, Leo leaned back, face still pale.

"I've been doing this all damn morning," his voice was tight. "It started yesterday...goes away in the afternoon then comes back again..."

Eric felt a thrill of excitement despite himself.

Nothing is definite yet, he told himself.

"Are you sick?"

"Other than this shit I feel fine."

"Maybe something you ate?"

"Maybe."

Leo sighed and slowly got to his feet. "If this keep up I'll go to a..." his face took on a look of reluctance, "...doctor."

He turned to Eric. "Don't tell anyone about this. I don't need fuckheads making shitter jokes at me right now."

Eric nodded. 

"Your secret is safe with me."

Oh, if only he knew.

…

Leo was feeling ill again. It had been two days since he’d run into Eric on his way to the bathroom and he was feeling anything but better. He lounged on the leather sofa in Eric’s currently empty office. The tall blond was probably at a meeting with some higher ups. Leo had heard all his routine grumblings before.

A trash can was situated by his head for easy access, a pillow propped under his head for comfort. Leo wasn’t immune to the drain of everyday activity, but lately he’d been feeling more exhausted than usual. In addition to the nausea he was taxed physically and emotionally. The past few days he’d begun to notice a lingering ache in his abdomen, somewhere from behind his bellybutton to the top of his groin. He felt like his limbs were filled with lead, and the fact that he was having trouble getting full nights of sleep didn’t help much. Bizarre dreams plagued his nights, and the inexplicable emotional fallout was inexplicable. Leo did not consider himself a very emotional person, but there he was, holding his gut and crying his eyes out into his pillow at three a.m.

Not only that, but he seemed to have put on more weight as of recent. His toned abdomen had melted into something more convex. He hadn’t even noticed it until Monday, when he couldn’t zip his pants up all the way. He’d been walking around with his pants partially unzipped since then, hoping no one would notice, but as the week wore on the zipper stopped lower and lower on its metal teeth.

“Leo, why are you in here?” Eric was standing in the doorway, gorgeous as usual, holding a few binders under one arm. His gaze lingered on the trashcan. “Are you feeling sick again?”

Leo sighed, “I never stopped feeling sick.” With these words he felt a wave of nausea. “Fuck.” He kept it down.

He continued, “I’m nauseous, I can’t sleep, my clothes don’t fit, and my stomach hurts. I want to fucking die.”

“Don’t be so dramatic.”

Eric walked over to him, putting a hand on his forehead.

“You’re a little clammy, but you’re not warm. Do you want something to eat?”

Leo got a little sheepish. He knew Eric wouldn’t like what he had to say about eating.

“I haven’t eaten anything in two days.”

“…Leo!”

“It won’t stay down!”

Eric fixed him with what Leo called “the stare”.

“Saltine crackers. I’m getting you food. Stay right there.”

Leo groaned, “Fuck, me.”

“Maybe when I get back,” Eric slyly retorted on his way out, knowing full well that wasn’t what the other man meant.

When Eric returned, he’d brought more than saltine crackers. He’d also brought bland flavors of soup, a loaf of bread, a bag of mixed fruits, and a carton of water. He set it in Leo’s lap.

“Eat,” he instructed.

“What, all of it?!”

“Yes.”

“Well…”

“It’ll make you feel better.”

“I could give it a shot. You might have to help me, though.”

“Of course.”

Leo started with a bottle of water and the four pack of saltines. He took a drink of water after every ten crackers. His nausea began to marginally subside, slowly being replaced by the hunger of the past two days. Pack one, two, three, and four all went down without a problem. Then came the fruit, which was a grocery store assortment of cubed melons, strawberries, and a few other common things like blueberries and grapes. He finished the bag in ten minutes.

“Wow,” said Eric, impressed. Leo would say almost turned on, judging by the look on his face.

“Yeah.”

“Still hungry?”

“Mhm.”

“Good.”

Eric was watching intently, and Leo decided to play this interest in his food consumption for all it was worth. He consumed the soup slowly, can by can by can. He made little noises of enjoyment and watched the effect that they had on the other man. It was after the fourth can Leo decided he was done.

“I can’t eat anymore. I’m stuffed.”

Eric smiled. “Not yet you aren’t.”

He grabbed the bread, twisting off the plastic tie. Leo was slightly alarmed, but excited as well.

“You’ll have to hel-,” Leo began, cut off by the abrupt presence of soft, white bread between his lips. He swallowed it thickly. “What are you doing?”

“Helping you,” Eric supplied happily, putting another piece between his lips. Leo chewed and swallowed, chewed and swallowed. He had thought he’d felt full before. Now he felt it almost under his ribs, and he had only eaten five pieces.

Bread really is filling…

His belly began to ache, but not in the way he had before. It felt good.

“Ohhh…” he groaned after he swallowed the seventh piece.

Eric grinned, continuing to feed him. He would wait for Leo to finish chewing and swallow, give him some time to make those delicious noises, then put in another piece for him to work on.

After a few minutes, there was no more bread left. Leo closed his eyes, hands resting on the sides of his now bloated, aching belly. He felt gentle fingers ghost across the front of his shirt, his buttons straining and his pants now fully unzipped by the small bulge of his gut.

“You look so good like this,” Eric said quietly.

“I’m glad you like it. Pervert.”

Eric began to massage Leo’s stomach in small circles, occasionally cupping either side of it and kissing or licking at his bellybutton.

“Hmm…” Leo learned back, eyes closed, enjoying the sensual sensation. After a while, though, he leaned forward, and was momentarily puzzled by what he saw.

“What’s that?” he said.

Eric stopped his ministrations to look up.

“What’s what?”

“That.”

Leo had noticed something different about his belly, something other than its bloatedness but which its bloatedness had probably contributed to. There was an extremely faint line bisecting the two halves of his belly. It started at the base of his shaven groin and curved all the way up to his belly button. It was slightly squiggly in some places, as if drawn on with an unsteady hand by a drunk cartoonist.

“Oh. This?” Eric traced a finger up and down its length a few times.

“Yeah,” Leo shuddered at the pleasant sensation.

Eric watched his reaction and laughed quietly. “I don’t know what it is, but based on your expression right now I think I’m going to be touching it a lot.”

[raijinhasverybigpecs]

THE RE-UP: Tu’er Shen, the Leveret Spirit 🐇

“While other gods may proclaim endlessly over the power they have over their domains, causing no end of trouble for their fellow pantheon members and their followers as a result, Tu’er Shen patiently and quietly tends to those who request his services with unmatched loyalty and dedication.”

Name: Tu’er Shen, the Leveret Spirit​

​Pantheon: Chinese, Minor Diety​

Class: Hunter/Healer Hybrid, Medium Difficulty​

Positives: Healer, High Movement​

Negatives: Hybrid Specialisations​

please click on the read more for everything else lol

appearance details 🐇

old (above) vs new (below)

so perhaps i made him a bara rabbit after all lmao. blame the new outfit and how much better it’d look if tu’er shen has big ol bitties to work with :^) it’s still the same hair as the ears work really well with that colour but the basically the whole face has changed to be a lil more Dramatic(tm). the makeup skills have also improved with new tu’er shen rocking more subtle eyeliner alongside some very pretty and shiny pink liner. the eyes are also another major change, they’re a pretty grey as it goes nice with his hair. i still love the idea of his eyes changing colour according to his mood and grey is just a neutral mood :^) anyways, yes he looks beautiful, yes you can compliment him!

outfit details 🐇

tu’er shen now has an in-game outfit!! yay 🥳 it’s been a while coming mostly bc i have no art or visual character design skills but i’m pretty proud of how this turned out lol. it’s super cute and p goddamn chinese if i say so myself but it’s still very hoe and feels modern enough to fit smite’s standards i feel lol. big thanks to @izahunny​ (who is dead on that blog but a clown on twitter) for helping me with designing the outfit, the back layers and lil extra dress fabric for the front bottom left corner of the dress were his idea and they make everything much more balanced 🥰 i didn’t add a weapon but he’s just using a bow, i might update this later if i care enough to add that lmao

abilities 🐇

(please note that i am terrible with stats and don’t care about how viable in-game he actually is, these are just general ideas and the stats can be changed lol)

PASSIVE - Protector​

Tu’er Shen passively grants a medium range aura of regenation around him to his allies, increasing their HPS, MPS and magical and physical protections by 5% of their totals for each statistic. Additionally, Tu’er Shen gains a 3% movement speed bonus every 4 levels.​

40 unit aura radius, 5% increase of total HPS, MPS and protections​

3% bonus movement speed every 4 levels, total bonus is 12% at level 20​

ABILITY 1​ - Passion Arrow​

Tu’er Shen charges his arrows with passion, amplifying his next basic attacks with a small AOE on hit or at max basic attack range and causing them to go through minions. If Tu’er Shen hits an ally while Passion Arrow is active, he heals them for a flat amount. If an enemy is hit the charges deal increased damage on impact and if they are hit 3 times they are charmed and walk harmlessly towards Tu’er Shen for 1.5 seconds.​

Cooldown: 10 seconds

3/3/4/5/5 charges, Heal: 50/75/95/125/150 + 30% scaling​

Extra damage: 10/30/60/90/120, Mana cost: 55/60/70/75/85​

ABILITY 2​ - Matchmaker​

Tu’er Shen calls upon his matchmaking skills to select and connect two allied gods or one ally and one enemy god with each other in a 55 unit targeter. If two allies are linked then their damage is increased by 10% and they receive a heal over time. If an ally and an enemy are connected then the enemy is revealed to Tu’er Shen’s team and the enemy deals 20% less damage to their partner. Additionally, the connected ally receives 50% of their enemy partner’s healing.​

Cooldown: 20/19/18/17/16 secs​ 

Duration: 6 seconds, Heal over time: 20/25/30/35/40 + 20% scaling​

HOT ticks every 1 second, Mana cost: 50/55/60/65/70​

ABILITY 3​ - Bunny Hop​

Tu’er Shen hops in the direction he is currently travelling. If Tu’er Shen hits a wall, player-made deployable or god he bounces off the surface, doubling his movement. Additionally, enemy gods are stunned for 1 second upon impact. Tu’er Shen can store 1 charge of this ability.​

Cooldown: 14/13/12/11/10 secs

2 charges maximum, range of 55 with an amplified range of 110 units​

Damage: 100/150/200/250/300 + 100% scaling, Mana cost: 70/80/90/100/110 mana​

ULTIMATE​ - Romantic Rush​

Tu’er Shen, after a short duration, channels the full extent of his love powers, amplifying all of his basic attacks with the effects of Passion Arrow for 10 seconds. If an ally is hit and they are at full health they receive a a health shield equal to half of Passion Arrow’s healing. On enemy hit, the charm duration is doubled but they cannot be charmed again while Romantic Rush is active. The effects of Matchmaker are doubled and Tu’er Shen receives a 20% damage buff if he is linked with another male god.​

Cooldown: 80 seconds

Duration: 10 seconds​

Mana cost: 80/90/100/110/120 mana​

lore 🐇

While other gods may proclaim endlessly over the power they have over their domains, causing no end of trouble for their fellow pantheon members and their followers as a result, Tu’er Shen patiently and quietly tends to those who request his services with unmatched loyalty and dedication. For he is not a god who takes to the spotlight easily, but one who will see his responsibilities through to help and protect those who he serves, an opportunity he was once not afforded in his youth.​

​Such are the origins of Tu’er Shen, the Leveret God. ​

​Once a young man known as Hu Tianbao, he fell deeply in love with a handsome imperial inspector of Fujian Province. Such was the intensity of his love that he looked upon the inspector while he bathed, peering at him through a bathroom wall. Tianbao was caught in the act, confessing his sincere affections for the other man in hopes of reaching an understanding. The inspector was quick to retaliate in violence, sentencing him to death by beating.

Underworld officials, seeing his crime as one of love, sought to justify his death by appointing him the god and safe guarder of homosexual affections. A month after his death, he appeared in the dreams of a man from his hometown – not as Hu Tianbao but reborn as Tu’er Shen. From this came the erection of a humble shrine for his worship and Tu’er Shen has dutifully served those who seek him ever since.​

​The battlefield of the gods is a strange place to find Tu’er Shen, usually one so far removed from the world of ugly violence and mindless bloodshed. Even so, perhaps love can soothe and heal the wounds caused by the warring of pantheons, or maybe it can even help end the war in some way. Knowing firsthand the true cost of thoughtless hate and violence, Tu’er Shen picks up his bow in the hope that he can protect even one person of those who cannot protect themselves in the war of the gods.

voicelines 🐇

god selection

“Tu’er Shen!” (duh)

introduction

“Is anyone in need of my services?”

“Let’s see what I can do.”

“Wonder if there are any cute gods around? Wait, no! Work first, then play later!”

“In their own ways, everyone here is fighting for love.”

(this isn’t an official one but as a joke it was highly entertaining) “Come on Season 6 let’s get sickening!”

abilities

ability 1 - passion arrow

“Fallen for me yet?”

“I’ve got you!”

“Coming for your heart!”

ability 2 - matchmaker

self/ally match - male gods only

“Our connection is strong.”

“Let your heart speak to me.”

self/ally match - general

“Together we’re stronger.”

“I’ve got your back.”

ally/ally match

“You’d make a good pair.”

“Another successful match.”

ally/enemy

“Swipe left next time!”

“This’ll end badly.”

ability 3 - bunny hop

“Excuse me!”

“Coming through!”

ability 4/ultimate - romantic rush

“Feel the love!”

low health

“I will not give in just yet.”

“I don’t mind playing rough, but this is a bit too much even for me…”

items

when placing wards

“Reveal their hearts to me little ward.”

“Any romantic confessions I should be aware of?”

when buying consumables

“Isn’t this interesting?”

“The colour is lovely.”

when buying offensive items

“I don’t want to harm others but if I must.”

“Love hurts indeed…”

when buying defensive items

“Will this protect my ears?”

“Hope this won’t slow me down.”

“Even the gods have to use a little protection.”

kills

when in a killstreak

“I can heal them later on, right?”

“Love never misses its mark.”

when killing a jungle boss

“That creature was awfully big…”

“Thank you for your sacrifice.”

when destroying a tower

“Love conquers all, man and structure alike.”

“Ack, that’s so loud!”

death

“You’ll never kill my spirit…”

“Love is eternal…”

directed voicelines

Aphrodite - “It’s a great honour to finally meet the goddess of love, I have much to learn from you.”​

Cupid - “Speaking from... past experiences, it seems as though you should work on your aim.”​

Jing Wei & Xing Tian - “I admire your perseverance in the face of insurmountable odds, we are not too dissimilar in that way.”​

Loki - “If you haven’t already, I suggest you pay Chiron a visit at some point. He is single after all...”​

Bellona - “Any luck asking Amaterasu out yet? She’s still waiting for you to make a move you know..”​

Raijin - “I’m willing to bet you’re more satisfying in bed than you are an opponent on the battlefield.”​

Bacchus - “I’m not the drinking type... but perhaps you’d like to come in for tea?’​

Achilles - “How’s Patroclus doing? Maybe you should spar with him more often, you’ve gotten rusty.”​

Apollo - “Playing the lyre isn’t the only thing you make look easy.”​

Ravana - “When I see you, the term ‘rope bunny’ comes to mind...”​

jokes

“I hope Cupid doesn’t get jealous of all the time I’m spending with Aphrodite…”​

“Technically I’m not this closely associated with actual rabbits, but the aesthetic was too cute to pass up.”​

“Considering what I’ve been through, I think I’ve earnt the right to proud of who I am.”​

“It is technically homophobia if you hit me. Just saying.”​

“The Jade Rabbit? He’s certainly cute... but I think there’s another rabbit who’s cuter.”​

taunts

Animation: Tu’er Shen draws a neon heart in the air, shooting an arrow through it shortly after.

“[Yawns] I think I might have a nap, perhaps that’ll give you a chance to catch up.”​

“You have an awfully big weapon there, are you compensating for something?”​

“I’ll show you why they say love hurts.”​

“Fighting for your overblown ego isn’t a good reason to wage war.”​

“Take it from a matchmaker, I don’t think anyone’s standards are low enough for you.”​

skin concepts 🐇

new tu’er shen body

floral fairy

squeaky clean, night corps, bunny server

country cowboy, casual, devilish

old tu’er shen body

kitsune, spring revelry, leather bunny

hello nurse, debonair devil 

old notes 🐇

this concept is super inspired by Kaios’ concept for Tu’er Shen (which you’ll find linked in the description of this post), i loved his ideas for rabbit lad and wanted to add more to the concept. my final kit concept is a lil bit similar but i think i’ve changed enough for it to not be a copy lmao. anyways, i’ve wanted a hunter support since i played tyrande a while ago in heroes of the storm. she was super fun and the mix of dealing strong consistent damage and still being able to support allies is something i’d kill to have in smite​

​tu’er shen is also a really cool god, and recently I’ve been prokoved by my mutuals making lots of god concepts when i haven’t made any in a very long time lol (if you remember my other smite oc you’re a real stan). obvs i don’t think hi-rez would do him justice and gamerbros would totally complain about the Gays™ shoving their unsatiable need for Representation™ down their throats and what not but it’s still a fun concept regardless!

new notes 🐇

he’s back and 10x beefier and sluttier looking than ever lmao. the self-insert squad may be missing plenty of people (y’all better come back like...) but it’d be a waste of time and effort to not do more with tu’er shen. also i love him so! i’m still kinda sad over twink tu’er shen being replaced by bara tu’er shen but it’s for the best, he’s v handsome now and big ol bitties in that dress? iconic. he does fit better into the male cast, the added beef makes him more attractive to basically everyone (he’s serving taric teas now lol) and he was a soldier so there’s plenty of reasons to make him a hunk. anyways... i don’t have much to say about the outfit than it’s flawless lol. it was interesting and p fun to make although i always feel awkward about posting drawn stuff in a serious context. it’s weird but i’m happy about the final product 🥰 i’ll try to write more stuff about him soon but don’t expect too much lol

links/resources 🐇

personal

headcanons (they’re a lil outdated in reference to his body lol)

tu’er shen’s tag

original post

my smite oc tag

other

kaios’ super cool concept for tu’er shen you should check out as it’s cooler than mine lol. his art of tu’er shen goes full furry and it’s kinda cute ngl

other links you can read for more information about tu’er shen: 1, 2

a beautiful short film about tu’er shen helping a guy accept his sexuality, gore warning towards the end

thanks for reading if you got to the end! please send asks or whatever, i’m dying for any excuse to talk about him lmao 🐇

[incorrectsmashbrosquotes]

Reflections of the Demon King

*A bit of a character study of our favorite Demon King. Please enjoy!

This was submitted by @ganondorfthedarklord and we worked together on it. Thanks bro!

Within his personal quarters did the infamous demon king spare glance at tapestry and relic, art and artifact. The Gerudo who stood an immortal king had lived millennia, his memory stretched far and vast, and pieces of himself could be drawn to a time before time itself existed. He was draped in soft scholarly robes over metal boots, black etched over with gold as he allowed himself a moment outside his conflict. As fingers slid across the stitching of textiles from his own time, preserved through extensive magics of his own making, he began to settle into contemplating that long past, back to his youth, considering how he came to be as he was now.

            Fingers drifted from art that depicted his home to things far more personal, a wooden mug, roughly carved from a solid chunk. It was not something fit for a king, it was rugged, uneven, but fit for his enormous fingers and shaped comfortably. Even now he recalled the day he received it…

~

            One year. Only one year had passed since he had been crowned King of the Gerudo, and already dozens of the desert tribes had fallen to his might. Some called him the Witch King, others the Dark Master. In the end it didn’t matter to Ganondorf what he was called, so long as they fools knelt before him.

            On this day, the one year anniversary of his kingship, the leaders of the tribes he conquered presented him with gifts. Some were extravagant works of gold and silver, others were wickedly sharp weapons. He had received little else, save for a few scrolls containing spells of which he already had mastered. He was mentally dividing up the gifts, intending to use them for more useful pursuits than gathering dust on his shelves, when he was interrupted from his thoughts.

            “Your Majesty?” came a shy voice. Ganondorf turned to see a little girl, no older than eleven summers, standing near him, nervously shifting about. She was of the Jabari Tribe, one of his conquests, but there was clearly Gerudo ancestry in her features.

            “What?” he questioned, dutifully keeping his voice neutral.

            “I… I know that… that I have nothing worthy of you… but I wished to give you a gift anyway.” she said. Without another word she presented a simple wooden cup to him. The Dark King took up the offering, examining it critically. The rough hewn wood was nothing to show off about, but it had obviously been carved with care.

            Ganondorf turned to the nervous girl and spoke with clarity something he had never said before.

            “Thank you.”

~

            As Ganondorf drank from the cup he inwardly chuckled at the memories of the odd looks he’d received from nobles due to his use of this cup. He never bothered to share the story of it, they had been unworthy to hear it anyway. Simple yes, but it was his. He shook himself from such thoughts and returned his attention to the tapestry before him.

            His time before his ascension was a mystery to many, but he remembered it well. He had been born to a young she-warrior whose name he had never learned. It had never truly seemed important really, she had died birthing him after all. Nor did he know his father, save that he was a wandering Hylian Knight who had been taken by the Gerudo for a short time. In truth he had been a child of the Gerudo Tribe, rather than any individual. They had forged him into what he was. They had taught him to stand, to strive, to slay. What need of traditional parents had he then?

            Upon his thirteenth summer the wisest and strongest of the Tribal Elders, Koume and Kotake, had taken him into their hands. He knew that they had loved him, but it was not a gentle love. It was a cruel love, hard and sharp like a sword. They had turned him into a weapon of magic and steel. No mistakes had been tolerated, and any he made were punished harshly…

~

            “Fool of pup!” screamed Koume at the prostate child before her. “You are to be King of our people! A savior! And yet you continue to make mistakes that a brain-envenomed Goron wouldn’t make!” she shrieked in Gerudo tongue.

            “I… I am sorry, Elder Koume.” he ground out.

            For that she blasted him with dark fire that etched into his skin. He took it silently, malice building in his gut. “Never apologize you weak pup! Kings do not apologize! They simply are!” Ganondorf stood, feeling the aches in his muscles. Something was building inside him. Something ancient. Something terrible.

            Something very, very, angry.

            “Perhaps then, it is your fault.” he said, not fully conscious of his actions. He only knew that what was inside him NEEDED to be free. “Perhaps I make mistakes because my teacher is a wretched, ugly, weak, PATHETIC BAG OF DUST!” he thundered. The world seemed to fade around him, his nose picked up the faint burn of ozone in the air.

            “You- you wretched-” Koume never got the chance to finish her sentence as Ganondorf loosed a beast’s roar, and with it a bolt of solid black energy from his mouth. It smashed Koume through solid stone.

            With that he fell to the ground. The last thing his senses could grasp before losing consciousness was Kotake walking up and standing over him, a broad smile on her wizened face.

            “Finally.” she said.

~

 After that his strength grew in leaps and bounds. He learned every spell his teachers knew, practiced every martial skill his tribe could offer. His nights were consumed by scrolls and books, filled with the sciences and philosophies of the wise and powerful alike. He became voracious, seeking every scrap of knowledge and power he could find. Soon he towered tall above all his peers in both body and mind. The many scars of his pursuits were left untouched, he took pride in the growth drawn from each cut.

            The path forward had become clear to him. To be free one must have power, to have power one must be intelligent, one must be strong, one must be cunning, one must be willing to utilize that which was necessary. To be a true sovereign one must be able to overcome all that could question him, and in later ages which he had not yet reached he would come to include the gods among those who must be overtaken. He would learn self-reliance as the only reliance. For then he still prayed to the gods to better his lands and strengthen his might.

 Perhaps the only person who ever truly knew him beside himself was his second, a young Gerudo girl who had managed to sneak into his training sessions during that age. For a time, she had been a trusted and wonderful companion a few years younger than himself, sharp of tongue and mind with strength that could hold longer than any other of his kin against him. Such trust was misplaced, he would later learn, as she was not as loyal to him as her own ideas of the Gerudo, and over time their visions of the future would irreconcilably divide. She hid her betrayal well, and it had been wrenching to learn of this treachery.

            It was first with hope that he approached Hyrule, while he had long studied the history he was yet young and naive in all practical sense. War had long existed, but there was perhaps some potential for a more peaceful progress. He soon learned the truth of the Hylians.

 They were a soft people. A people made weak by wealth and plenty. Their King was nothing like what a king should be. He was like his people, soft and weak. A sorry excuse for a monarch. And slowly,steadily, Ganondorf became angry. These weak creatures hoarded and hoarded all they could, unwilling to share with his own. The so-called blessed races which infested the mountains, fields, forests and hills shared in the plenty, but his own were outcasts in the desert wastes.

            His fury could not truly be described. Soon he realized that the only way forward was domination. Control. Conquest.

 Ganondorf began with his native home. He turned the Gerudo people from warriors to soldiers. He forged them as they had forged him. An army was born. And one by one, the tribes of the great Southern Desert fell to his rule.

            His rule was not as stable as he had anticipated. He was far more young and ignorant than he had believed of himself, his older self understood. That passion, that fury, had not yet been as under control as he had believed and in frustration he made many mistakes which further destabilized his rule. He may be proud and unrelenting, lacking in regret, but one did not grow so powerful without correcting where one faulted or erred.

 He had tried a measured hand, but the pride of the tribes he conquered refused to be denied. He was plagued by little rebellions, internal conflicts, and assassination attempts. Slowly he applied more and more pressure upon his conquered peoples. Blood and steel became the law of his rule, but he never went further than what he deemed necessary. For every ten rebels he executed with a swift and brutal hand, another thirty were cowed into submission. He came to realize an important truth: Men do not fear swords. They fear Monsters. And so a monster he became.

It was that philosophy that finally led him to the Triforce, and to Hyrule’s conquest.

            But it was in his seventh year of rule and conquest that his greatest failure came. His confidant and friend had betrayed him. Only through his mothers did he even allow suspicion of her, allow himself to question her. It should have been obvious, but he had been blinded by the trust he had placed. Such a mistake he would not make again, and he swiftly discovered another most trusted servant had never been on his side at all. It was rare any saw what he did not, such mistakes boiled in his veins and he cursed and spat. Steadily, rather than the support he had intended, he had lost ground.

 Defeat was long and it was attrition combat which finally wore his powers from him. He had total confidence in himself all throughout that fight, he needed to, for he was to conquer the heavens themselves, he had brought Hyrule to heel, he had taken their most sacred relics and children were all that faced him. He did not see the gods behind them, and he fell into his hatred, let it control him in ways he would not allow again so easily.

            Many foes had claimed he did not feel as man did, could not see as a person, but something almost all failed to realize is he empathized greatly with those he slew. To manipulate as he has one must truly understand those they are using, and he did not ever act without reason when he had sound mind, but he was ruthless and ceaseless, endless, eternal in his conquest. It was not without consideration that he would end a life, rather he considered each greatly, but of comparison to his goals there was little to decide. Zelda herself had done similar such things in her battles to bring down his reign.

 Ganondorf set his sentiments from the ancient past aside and beheld the present as he rose, though the mug never left his hand, to the bright stained windows which peered into the realm beyond. He saw out into the era as it was. Here he stood outside of his time and realm among countless beings of differing origins beyond his own. Such ripe pickings, such choice pawns and pieces, and the most loyal of servants of all time did follow him again. There was much that had happened here. He deliberated on it as he drank deep of his liquid caffeine.

            Ironic, that one of the beings who most spent her attention upon him was a goddess of light in her world while the other a powerful witch, one of not insignificant strength and deeply wrapped in darkness herself. He had hesitated to call the bonds shared with them love at first, despite the deliciously debauched acts they participated in, but competition as the two challenged him deeper into the embrace was ever driving, as was his passion. As tightly controlled as it may be, upon release his passion was consuming and he was one to fight in every battle before him, even ones of affection. Those bonds developed much further than he had ever anticipated.

 This established, none of the trio possessed the same beliefs, the same ideals, and he well knew they would often come against him no matter how pleasing their time together. It was refreshingly pleasant, though, to take this occasional escape from his constant war. In a way it reminded him of his youth, rejuvenated him. Such bright passion was not as common in him these days, the flare of heat was appreciated. The joining of flesh also produced something he had wanted but not anticipated finding before his final victory — children.

            An heir was something Ganondorf long sought despite his immortality. While there had always been many who sought him it was difficult to find one capable enough, enticing enough, powerful enough for him to even lightly consider the idea of truly bedding. He had first come to have a biological one, and he managed two such children with the first of his mates, the witch, but they had not joined him in his cause. The first had become a beacon of justice in his own world, making himself a symbol not unlike Ganondorf himself. The second had trodden a path similar to his own, rebellion against authority and the divine. Although his actions were far more… altruistic in their motivations.

 But despite their difference in goals he was still proud of both of them. However, no matter his pride, neither could be his heir.

            Then whispers had reached his ears of another child. One so like him yet so very different. A child filled with rage and darkness. A devil in the making, soaked in the blood of genocide and betrayal. He had sought out this child, and the little demon had been everything he had hoped. And so he had his heir. From this child he would forge a scourge upon the Sacred Realm itself. All of creation would one day tremble before this creature… this Angel Fallen Underground.

Ganondorf once more returned attention to the ancient mug as he considered his relations and reflected upon the state of his kin. He would never admit it, but it had been gutting to see what had become of them.

            The last and yet living king of the Gerudo was a man well out of time, he had long recognized. Life changed around him, the Gerudo were long dead; while others might question him of the statement they had died millennia ago. What remained of them was a corpse mutilated into something he cared nothing for. Gone was their savage strength, their terrible will. They had been… domesticated by that wretched scourge that was Hyrule.

 Independence had died, rebellion gone, their leadership had been gorged out and replaced with one far too similar to that of the Hylians. Worse still they now served under the family of Hyrule. It disgusted him to see such proud resistance fall into line beneath the kingdom he fought. The only value of it was the idea of resurrection, he had forged it once, he could forge it again in the crucible of blood and steel. The world had indeed changed, but never was it to benefit him lest he force it.

            Ganondorf contemplated the future, turning from the window toward his maps and plots where much was yet to be subjected and subjugated to his influence.

 What still stood before him was Hyrule, and with it the Triforce. It remained difficult, but to him there had never been such a thing as the impossible, merely heightened and difficult obstacles to overcome. Even fate was one to be taken and conquered. Once he finally wretched these things from the gods and their champions he would have all in hand. From there he could forge all existence as he desired. From there he could remove the thrice damned gods from their thrones. They were his truest of enemies, and such cowards they were to hide from him in the heavens behind their champions.

            Though he rarely spoke such words he truly respected those two ceaseless opponents, both nearly as stubborn as himself. The princess could meet him in wits, the boy in swords, and though separate they could never defeat him they could gather quite the remarkable forces to lead against him together. Each piece of the pair impressed him. He would have to overcome them alone one day, and he would not have it otherwise. For him his victory must be complete and then he shall be able to end all who would stop him. It must be total, eclipsing, and it shall be, no matter how long it takes. He has lived countless centuries, he can take countless more. Existence will cease before he would do so.

 The mug disappeared from his fingers in a mix of black and purple flames, off to a safe location, as did the soft cloth which had cloaked him during this time alone. Donning armor of war made of dark metal detailed in gold and cloaked with crimson beneath fiery hair, the time for contemplation had ended. The time to act neared, he was to convene his forces and prepare for it. Nothing would ever stop his march, only delay, only slow. Fierce fangs glinted in a smirk formed from devious designs taking shape. The giant pair of metal boots moved ever onward to a faint, almost silent, rhythmic click. Always forward.

            Because for Ganondorf, forward was the only possibility.

[aeon-borealis]

Captivated: Chapter 1

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Note: I’ll be posting future chapters on fanfiction.net and hopefully A03. For now, I couldn’t wait and here’s chapter 1. Enjoy!

1: Welcome to Cress

:Alejandro:

Dark clouds rolled across the night sky and the howling wind dragged at the window shutters. Every time one of the shutters hit the side of the house, I wondered if I could sync up my heartbeat with the noise. Tap. Two seconds passed. TAP. Then my heart thumped. It was a crawling, sluggish beat across a big hollow drum. Such a somber sound.

Jose would describe my internal monologue as needlessly dramatic, Mama would ‘encourage’ me to find a more constructive use for my time, and Papa would tell me to “man up” like he always does. It’s odd to think about. Almost everything I do, say, or muse about is followed by my rough assumption of what Jose, Mama, and Papa would think about the same thing or what comment they might make. The older I get, the more I wonder if I am as much my own person as I want to believe.

I rolled over on the flimsy mattress and looked at the bed across the room from mine. There’s Jose’s sleeping form, barely covered by a thin blue quilt. He snored with the intensity and volume of a chorus of chain saws. Several loose strands of hair are plastered to his forehead and pillow with sweat. He used to be so particular about what length his hair was and strictly kept it very short.

And he has so much stubble now. Band-aids with illustrations of dinosaurs and Disney characters haphazardly covered parts of his chin where he nicked himself with his razor. He used to have such a clean-shaven face. At one point he had bragged about wanting to try shaving the “old-fashioned way” with a real blade.

The only logical conclusion I have been able to reach is that aliens abducted Jose and replaced him with this bum. They can keep him.

***

Carlos was married six months ago now and he didn’t tell anybody. I’ll never forgive him for keeping such a major milestone in his life a secret from me for so long.

It’s surreal sitting across the long mahogany table from Athena, Carlos’ wife. She has short curly red hair, constellations of freckles across her pasty white skin, and a little pixie nose. Other than her physical appearance, the best way I can describe her is that she’s practically a fairy tale character brought to life: She likes to talk with her hands and use grand, whimsical hand gestures. Plus, she has a high-pitched voice and she’s followed by this strong, ever-present apple cinnamon smell.

Tonight she made some kind of cheese-smothered box meal lasagna. Carlos was so proud, going on and on about how little experience she had cooking, how he cooked most of their meals, and how she was slowly but surely learning how to cook real food. Lovesick Carlos was being generous when he lavished praises generally reserved for a fine crème brulee on a basic pasta. Athena only made things more embarrassing when she openly admitted that her previous diet was a mix of Hot Pockets and other microwavable crap before Carlos “nudged” her towards learning to use an actual stove.

Somehow, I managed to stomach it. I made myself shovel mouthful after mouthful of rubbery cheese into my maw because I love my older brother more than I hate cheap food. I’m expecting to spend most of tomorrow hunched over the porcelain throne as a result, though.

I can learn to make excuses to escape Athena’s cooking. I can learn to deal with one eccentric, but well-meaning person because she genuinely makes Carlos happy. But then he stumbled into the dining room.

Athena asked Jose how work went today. Jose mumbled something incoherent under his breath, spat a chewed-up wad of tobacco gum into a napkin, then unceremoniously plopped down into a chair across from me and planted a sneakered foot on the table top. He’s hunkered down in his thin-fabric windbreaker and trying to hide the bags under his eyes with the hood part of his maroon hoodie. With a tight-lipped frown, Athena placed a helping of her rubber lasagna in front of him.

Jose grabbed it by the tips of his fork prongs and wolfed down the entire chunk of food within mere minutes. I looked down at my own generous helping, idly poking at the amorphous mass with my own fork. Then I looked back at Jose and can’t help the way my eye twitches or the intense urge to shoot my dear brother the iciest glare I can muster.

Suddenly, Carlos grabbed me by the arm and ghosted me into the nearby hallway. He knitted his thick eyebrows together as his face morphed into that stern expression that used to be permanently plastered to Mama’s face.

“Please. Try to be civil, Alejandro,” Carlos said with a deep sigh.

“I am. He’s the one stumbling in like an uncultured barbarian...”

“I know.” Carlos’ gaze trailed off for a second. Then he turned back towards me, pinning me with his dark eyes and making me hold his gaze. “Look. I’m not happy about our current situation but the way I see it, he’s my brother and he deserves time, space, and understanding while he sorts himself out. He’s acting like a rebellious teenager, yeah, but Athena and I decided we should pick our battles with him.”

“So, he’s a charity case like Mama and I?” I couldn’t keep the biting edge out of my tone.

Carlos glared at me. “You’re not a charity case. Never use that phrase around me again, got it?”

“Seriously, Carlos. What could possibly be going wrong in the world of the high and mighty Jose Burromuertos?”

“He lost his entire fortune and had to declare bankruptcy a few months ago,” Carlos replied with a heavy sigh.

“So he squandered all his money. What an idiot. Everything played out exactly like Papa said it would...”

Carlos’ eyes narrowed dangerously and his nostrils flared. There was a bull seeing red behind those eyes and he was visibly shaking as he tried to tamp down and contain his anger.

“Ignacio officially disowned him about a week ago.”

My blood suddenly ran cold and I could swear my pupils were the size of bowling balls.

I felt like the world had broken and shattered beneath my booted feet. Papa was stern and he could be cruel. But, he would never. He couldn’t have. Even after Carlos ran away from home years ago, Papa never gave up on him. He even kept Carlos’ name on his official will. There was a trust fund Carlos could pull from at any time he wanted. And this was despite Carlos resisting Papa’s will at every turn and arguing furiously with him every chance he could.

Jose was the model son. He’d always been the golden standard Papa and Mama both pointed at and harshly compared me to.

Carlos found his voice again. “Jose is very aware of exactly how bad his situation is. We’ve had some very long, hard talks about this already. I’m actually trying to help him bounce back from this. Despite his appearance and behavior, he’s trying to bounce back from this, too. He needs all the support he can get right now.”

There was silence for a long beat. I couldn’t think of anything particularly meaningful to say. This was enough to blunt my sharp-as-a-tack brain.

Furrowing his brows, Carlos placed a hand on my shoulder and lightly squeezed. “Alejandro, be nice to Jose. If for no other reason, do it as a favor to me. We’re all in the same rickety boat right now and we’ll have much smoother sailing if you and Jose can get along for more than five minutes.”

I tried to swallow the large lump in my throat.

With that, Carlos lightly clapped my back, then gestured back towards the dining room.

As I walked back in, I noticed Mama had decided to join everyone. She seated herself next to Jose of course. Since I had been shocked by him, I can only imagine what was running through her mind. Mama nervously adjusted and re-adjusted her pea-green shawl while tugging at the loose ringlets in her dyed pale blond hair. The tips of her hair were starting to turn light brown again. Considering our current situation, I wouldn’t be surprised if I see Mama with a head of graying hair within the next several months.

“Is your room okay?” Carlos appeared beside her chair, lightly touching the curved back.

“Yes, it’s fine,” she said with a dismissive wave. She purposefully turned her face away from him, trying to hide the way she was curling her bottom lip.

The attempt was in vain. Carlos himself was biting his lip and, quite possibly, a snarky remark. Before the awkwardness escalated any further, Athena placed a plate in front of Mama with a meek smile and lightly pulled Carlos away to where they were seated.

Mama critically eyed the lasagna for a long moment, then pushed the plate away and hurriedly stood back up. “I’m not hungry. Thank you, though.”

She scurried out of the room as quickly as she could. Barely a minute after she left, Jose slid her plate towards him and devoured the lasagna with as much wolfish gusto as he had previously. I looked down at my plate for a moment, considered pulling a similar move with my food, and then sneaked a glance at Carlos and Athena. The two of them were speaking quietly and it seemed like Athena was on the verge of tears.

Any mere mortal would be driven to the brink of insanity living with one Burromuerto, let alone three. With a deep sigh, I forced another forkful of the food into my mouth.

Perhaps Athena’s cooking will finally help me overcome having such a sensitive stomach.

***

As much as I hated the prospect, Carlos was very firm about me getting a job. Athena is pregnant. Mama and I are tight on funds and allowed to live in Carlos’ respectable-sized townhouse rent-free. So it’s only fair that we pulled our weight somehow.

To my chagrin, being a delivery driver at this hole-in-the-wall pizza restaurant Kelsey’s is the only job I’ve been able to find within the past month. I can and will find better but for now, this will do.

About two hours into my shift, I’m already sick of the cheeky grinning rooster on the wall clock. A portly man stared at the menu with vacant eyes and drool collecting on his lower lip. The restaurant was pretty much deserted except for a stressed-out single mom and her babbling toddler. All I could think about is what kind of terror my future niece or nephew will be when I look at that little girl. She was peeling the wrappers off of crayons and ripping them into confetti strips. Then she placed those same crayons between her tiny knuckles and salivated all over each one. I’m going to have to clean up after that little monster. Ugh.

The portly gentleman finally placed his order: two different pizzas with a series of ridiculously complex toppings. As if taking fifteen minutes to confirm his order wasn’t frustrating enough, he leaned over the counter and gawked at everyone on staff with this bizarre and intense I’ll-eat-you-alive-I’m-that-hungry expression. What made matters worse was how often he kept licking his lips. Dios, I can’t accurately describe the immense relief I felt when he finally took his pizzas and left.

“That’s Don. He’s a regular,” someone said conversationally.

One of my co-workers sidled up next to me. My day just became ironically brighter. She’s a cute Goth girl with shoulder-length multi-colored teal and blue hair.

“He’s...something.” I tried to keep my eye from twitching too much.

“He’s creepy, but not in a fun Tim Burton kind of way.” She laughed as she wiped her hands off on the front of our restaurant’s obnoxious orange uniform apron.

“We’ve been taking bets on if he’s a stoner or mental ward escapee.” Another co-worker joined in on our conversation. He had a bright green Mohawk and several eyebrow piercings. I was mildly surprised he’s able to wear them while on shift.

He leaned on the front counter and grinned obnoxiously. “My theory is Crazy Katie is his wife. She orders the exact same crap he does. Right down to the extra extra sausage and pineapple chunks.”

“You have quite the background story for a complete stranger...” I chuckled softly.

“Gotta do something to entertain ourselves around here,” Mohawk replied. “What else we gonna do? Clean?”

“Speaking of...” The Goth girl pulled a questionable-looking yellow rag out of her apron pocket.

“You get to clean the toilets!” Goth girl and Mohawk crowed at me with the same obnoxious gusto as a too-eager, slightly sadistic game show host.

“Wait...I’m the delivery driver. Shouldn’t we-”

Mohawk snagged the rag and shoved it in my face. “Sunday afternoons are dead, dude. Take all the time you need.”

In a perfect world, I would find a way to turn this around and convince Mohawk to clean the bathrooms while I chatted up the Goth girl. Unfortunately, my efforts would be useless: Mohawk and Goth girl were the only two other employees, Mohawk was wearing an Assistant Manager tag, and the Goth girl had sneakily and flirtatiously shoved her hand in Mohawk’s back pocket.

I took a deep breath. “Is there...better equipment I can use?”

Mohawk cackled like a discount Saturday morning cartoon villain. “You got whatcha got in the broom closet.”

“Alright.” I winced as I took the proffered rag and shuffled off to find the broom closet. My nostrils shriveled up as soon as I opened the door and a myriad of horrible, questionable scents drifted out. My stomach was cartwheeling as I dragged the scuffed-up mop bucket, dingy mop, and other assorted materials towards the tiny unisex bathroom.

Mohawk whistled and I briefly turned to shoot a withering look at him. He winked and saluted in the most obnoxious way he could. Ice radiated up my spine as I remembered when Jose would make similar condescending and mean-spirited gestures at me.

“Pendejo.” I tried to whisper the word as low as I could under my breath. It’d be difficult. Very difficult. But I have to keep my irrational anger in check. This guy is definitely a jerk, but he’s not anywhere close to the same level as Jose. He gives off schoolyard bully vibes not I’ll-ruin-your-life jackass vibes. I’ve tamed schoolyard bullies before. I can handle him.

“What’d you just say?” Mohawk waltzed up to me with his fists on his hips.

“Nothing. Nothing...”

“I know you called me something.”

“Hijueputa,”I spat at him with a big, churlish smirk.

“Son of a bitch?” He was starting to grin now. “Is that the best you’ve got?”

“I’ll refer to you as every nasty slur I know if you wish.”

“Come on, dude.” He lightly clapped my shoulder. “Next time, it’s my turn to clean the shitter. I’m not a complete ass.”

“I don’t know. You’re the spitting image of a burro to me.”

At that, he started laughing and lightly punched my arm.

“Look. I’ll sweeten the deal by throwing in a free pizza.”

I grimaced. No thanks. I’ll take another rubbery lasagna from Athena before I’d ever consider eating the food here.

Mohawk laughed again. “I hate the pizza here too. I only eat as much as I do cause it’s free.”

I sighed heavily and made my way towards the bathroom. Smear-stained mirrors and pubic-hair covered toilet seats were quickly becoming more appealing than one more minute with the assistant manager’s awkward small talk.

***

The first day at my new school finally came. I was exhausted. Utterly exhausted. The entire weekend was a mix of avoiding Jose like the plague, stomaching as much of Athena’s terrible cooking as I could, and spending more time in bathrooms than I ever have in my life. The one highlight was that my supervisor at Kelsey’s was true to his word. After I swabbed the deck that afternoon, he took cleaning duty after a drunk stumbled in and...I really don’t want to entertain that mental image right now.

Just as I was reliving that nightmare, I saw my coworkers hanging out in front of the massive blond brick school building. Duncan was shamelessly smoking a cigarette and had his free arm slung around Gwen’s shoulders. He made some kind of lewd, crass comment and she was laughing to the point of tears. Gwen was definitely head over heels for this loser for whatever reason. I suppose he has some kind of roguish charm or charisma to him. He’s certainly the classic definition of a bad boy type.

Duncan looked up and caught me looking over at them. Then he waved lazily and gave me a cheeky monkey’s grin before immediately turning back to Gwen.

I rolled my eyes and headed inside. Despite how I felt, I was hoping that I could revitalize my weary spirit in an environment I know how to sow and develop to my liking. Cress is a smaller city in the pocket of the larger, more glamorous New York City. It’s small enough to cultivate starry-eyed longing for something bigger and greater than small town life, but big enough to have a fairly diverse student population. There are the stereotypical cliques and hierarchy, but then there are the eccentric outliers. I already passed by one student outrageously confident enough to walk the school halls wearing a cape and Star Wars light saber. He was even accompanied by a fairly attractive redhead rocking an old-school librarian look.

While I’m disappointed that the lovely Gwen was already taken, there are already plenty of other prospects hanging out in the front lobby alone. Excuse the inappropriate and archaic description, but I felt like a ravenous squid at a high-quality sushi bar.

There was a shapely brunette girl wearing a knee-length tan skirt and matching platform boots chatting with a blond girl that had Sunglasses on her head and an old-school Hollywood aura about her. Another cute redhead with pigtails and big brown eyes was animatedly talking to a moony-eyed blond in a sweater and lavender tights. Before I could even decide what to do next, I was approached by a green-eyed blond with her hair tied back in a long ponytail.

“Hey!” She seemed a bit sheepish as she extended her hand. “I’m Bridgette. Awkward question. Are you the new exchange student?”

I put on my most charming smile and gently kissed her knuckles. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’m Alejandro.”

“A-ah….” She blushed furiously as she took her hand away.

“Excuse me for being so forward, but you’re very beautiful. I’m especially drawn to your eyes. They’re the same shade and color as jade.”

“I-I have a boyfriend,” Bridgette squeaked. “I’m flattered, but...I have a boyfriend.”

“He’s quite lucky to have you.” I smiled again and winked at her.

Bridgette only managed a low, incomprehensible noise this time.

Coincidentally, a lean and slightly muscled blond in a pink button-up shirt walked over to us at just the right moment. He had one arm draped around the true foreign exchange student and was fastening a gaudy button to the younger boy’s shirt. It had a poorly illustrated squirrel on the front.

“And this is my lovely girlfriend-” The blond fellow stopped when he saw her beet-red face.

As if directed by his sixth sense, he slowly turned his head towards me. I waved and gave a faux innocent smile as the gears slowly turned in his mind. Once everything clicked, one of his eyes started twitching slightly.

“Are you okay, Geoff?” The exchange student lightly tugged at his light pink button-up shirt.

“Just peachy,” Geoff replied through gritted teeth. Before the exchange student could prompt him again, he pulled away and adjusted the collar of his shirt as he cleared his throat.

“Geoff...hey...” Bridgette looked like she’d been caught with her hand in the cookie jar.

“Hey, are you another exchange student?” Geoff asked me, trying with some difficulty to keep his composure in tact.

“No. I am a new student, though.” I shot my most oily smile at him. “Your girlfriend definitely gave me quite a warm welcome.”

Bridgette’s blush intensified, Geoff became even more visibly furious, and the exchange student just looked baffled.

“...can you help me find my locker?” The exchange student piped up.

“Of course!” With that, Geoff made a very blatant display of slipping his arm around Bridgette’s waist and glaring daggers at me. “Bridgette and I are happy to help however we can!”

“Hey, do you want to come, too?” The exchange student looked over at me expectantly. “Maybe we can help each other out.”

It would be so fun to wind up Geoff a bit more and sneak in a few more comments to fluster Bridgette. Honestly, though, it’d be far more refreshing to flirt with someone more receptive and free right now. I’m itching for some witty banter or ego-boosting comments after the weekend I had.

“No, I’ll be fine. Thank you, though.”

Just for good measure, I winked again and blew a kiss to Bridgette when she sneaked one last look at me.

While I wanted to try and flirt with one of the other girls in the lobby, I wouldn’t be surprised if a few of them had witnessed that exchange and picked up on the tension. I probably already shot myself in the foot by being extra obnoxious. So I decided to venture a bit further into the school and see what else I could find in the forty minutes I had left to kill before classes started.

***

The library at Cress High was surprisingly large for a public school. There was an elegant domed ceiling, a computer lab with some of the highest-end computers and tablets on the market right now, and rows upon rows of books at least seven feet high. A short page wandered the aisles and there were step ladders in the middle of each aisle prompting students to ask the page for help in obtaining a book from one of the taller shelves.

A few students were milling around the aisles or clumped around tables staring intently at smart phones. Considering the location and atmosphere, I was hoping to stumble across a shy violet with her nose stuck in a weighty tome somewhere around here. Instead, I found a stressed-out brunette in the middle of one of the aisles. She was surrounded by reams of “Vote Courtney” stickers, fliers, and buttons. All of the promotional materials were professionally done up with similar colors and theme to President Barack Obama’s well-known Hope poster.

“Would you like some help?” I bent down and folded my arms on my knees.

“Yes, please!” Courtney bellowed, her tone slightly strained. “At least there’s some helpful people around here...”

I started scooping up some of the various materials and arranging them in appropriate piles.

“So, I presume you are running for class president?”

“Yes!” She beamed and her eyes lit up like a string of fairy lights. “I’m hoping this will finally be my year! I’ve been class treasurer for the past two years. It’d be nice if I got to be president for senior year, you know? It’d look so good on a college application!”

“I certainly hope you win.”

Let’s see if I can steer the conversation from fluffy yes-man compliments towards something else.

“Thank you!” She was grinning ear to ear now. “I have so many new policies I want to put in place, too. Unlike the current president, the witch that shall not be named, I actually listen to people...”

“Mm-hmmm.”

“That b-I mean, witch, only wants the position because she can abuse her power to call in favors for friends. She’s such a bitch that that’s the only reason she even has friends. And, I mean, that’s the only reason I can conceivably see Lindsay, dumber than a sack of rocks Lindsay, of all people being captain of the Chess club. Or Dakota being able to start her weird retro fashion club...”

Courtney went on like this for some time, complaining about other students I didn’t and may never know. The one element that caught my attention was her strange fixation on and utter hatred towards the current class president. The more mud-flinging she did, the more fascinated I was by who this witch was. I definitely needed to keep tabs on her if only to secure my own place in Cress High’s hierarchy.

Courtney took a deep breath as she started, hopefully, coming down from her long-winded rant. For the first time in what felt like an eternity, Courtney actually stopped to look at me. I turned towards her and held her gaze, trying to put on my most charming, heart-melting smile. Apparently, it was effective because she dropped all of the precious materials she’d been clinging to and absentmindedly reached up to touch her cheek.

“You’re...you’re gorgeous...” She muttered.

“And you’re the most beautiful girl I’ve seen at this school,” I replied, reaching out and tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. “On top of that, you’re smart, ambitious, and you obviously care very deeply about the welfare of your fellow students.”

Courtney sighed happily as she bit her lip. “Yeah. That’s all true.”

“You’d do a fantastic job running this school,” I said in a dramatic stage whisper.

“Keep telling me how great I am.” Her eyes were shimmering.

“You’re a very capable, powerful woman. Seize the day!”

“Yes!” She clenched her fists. “I’ll beat Heather this year. I can do it!”

Suddenly, the bell rang and Courtney’s pupils shrank when she realized that she still had a mess to clean up. I sighed and rolled my eyes when she wasn’t looking then started shoveling miscellaneous materials into her backpack. She was gritting her teeth and stuffing everything back in with reckless abandon.

“I can’t be late...I can’t be...” The poor girl uttered the words like a mantra.

She was so caught up in her own thoughts, she snagged the last few things from my hand and took off like a rocket. So I was left sitting there on the carpeted floor with my mouth slightly agape. From what I can tell, I just served as faceless emotional support and it’d be very difficult to follow up with her now. No number. No date. Not even a loose thread for picking things up again later. Was I losing my game?

***

I refused to let Courtney deter me and had a few different phone numbers by lunchtime. Grinning, I scanned the lunchroom, hoping to find the cute dark-eyed, long lashes brunette I’d been chatting up all throughout English.

To my surprise, someone grabbed my arm and whirled me around to face her. It was Courtney, lids lowered flirtatiously and light pink lip gloss applied to her lips. The color was garish but I was too excited by the underlying implications to care. Batting her eyelashes, Courtney walked two fingers up my chest and suggested going somewhere more private.

To my further surprise, she dragged me to a little mom and pop sandwich shop and even offered to buy me a sub. That wheat and turkey sandwich was the best food I’ve had in about a week now. Dios, I had to restrain myself from tearing it apart like a ravenous, wild wolf. Courtney spent the entire time talking about herself and her grand goals, but I was more than happy to listen since she’d been generous enough to buy me something. There were even a few interesting and helpful nuggets sprinkled in about other students that I mentally filed away for later.

Perhaps, Courtney is girlfriend material. It’s been awhile since I last seriously committed to someone. I still think about Gabriel ever so often and every time, I feel kind of sad. We honestly had a lot in common and gelled very well, but the physical attraction didn’t stick. He felt more like my platonic best friend than my boyfriend. I don’t have the most honest track record in regards to my love life but I will be merciful. There was no way I was going to string the poor fellow along.

Between thoughts of Gabriel and staring longingly at Courtney’s lips, I decided to just wait and see how things progressed. Aggressive and assertive girls definitely hook me in faster than anyone else. I just need to make sure I don’t fall too hard too fast. It’s better that I be the one with a level head no matter how much of a romantic I am.

Courtney folded up her napkin, tossed it in the nearest bin, and grabbed the collar of my shirt.

“Let’s head back to my car.” It was a demand not a request.

Minutes later, Courtney had pulled off under some trees at a nondescript park. She immediately snapped off her seatbelt and rolled on top of me, forced the seat back just under the windows, and wrapped her arms around my neck. She dived right in, her kisses as strong and powerful as she tried to present herself.

About five minutes in, Courtney pulled away and gave me a very stern look.

“Is something wrong?” My heart was already sinking to the pit of my stomach.

“We’re going faster than I normally do...” She sighed, her face falling.

“We can slow things down,” I assured her, even though my pounding heart and hormones screamed otherwise. “I honestly prefer to do some pretty extensive wining and dining before going too far. How about we head back to school for now and plan another date for later this week? I’d be more than happy to treat you next time.”

Courtney sighed, then crawled off of me and back into the drivers’ seat. She folded her arms on the steering wheel and dipped her head forward, covering her face with a curtain of brown hair. The hopeless part of me noticed how the dappling sunlight painted yellow highlights across various strands and sections of her hair. It was an impromptu, natural halo.

“Alejandro...I’m so sorry.”

“What for?” I was trying to decide whether or not it’d be a good idea to put a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“I just got out of a bad break-up.” She tilted her head and looked over at me through half-lidded eyes. “My ex cheated on me with my best friend and...I just. I’ve been trying so hard to keep it in. So hard.”

“Oh, wow...I’m very sorry to hear that.”

“When I saw you this morning, I had to have you. I was scared if I didn’t make a move right now you’d be snatched up by some other girl. But I think I moved too soon, you know?”

I felt like I was being tugged in two different directions: one part was extremely sympathetic while the other wanted to crush cars with my bare fists. Before I acted too rashly, I took a deep breath and ran a hand through my hair. The better move here is to play the kind gentleman providing a shoulder to cry on. In a few days, I could collect myself and hopefully, make more meaningful progress with another one of my prospects.

“You’re okay, Courtney. You’re in a lot of emotional pain right now and people act quite irrationally when they’re upset enough.” I tried to smile in a sweet, reassuring way. “Let’s just be friends for now. I’m happy to be someone to confide in for now. And when you’re up for it, we can try this again if you want to...”

Courtney sniffed a few times while giving me the most pathetic look she could. She pulled a tissue out of her glove box, wiped her eyes and nose, then looked back at me with a strange determination in her eyes.

“Promise me something, Alejandro?”

“What is that?” A sense of dread crawled down my neck and I could feel the ghost of Courtney’s lips from a few minutes before.

“When we become exclusive, you won’t ever cheat on me.” Her eyes were daggers, pinning me to the car seat.

I swallowed hard and involuntarily raised my hands in an “I surrender” gesture. “Never.”

“Good.” She nodded and readjusted herself.

Then she spent an agonizing five minutes preening herself with the car mirror. Sweat raced down the back of my neck and I was imagining shackled wrists. If only I had another ride back to school.

As Courtney drove back, she slipped back to her normal demeanor. She carried on a one-sided discussion about how she wanted to decorate the gym for the upcoming Homecoming dance. It took all my will power not to bash open the side door and take off at roadrunner speeds once we returned to school.

“So...here’s my number,” Courtney said shyly, holding up her phone and showing me her details.

Heart hammering in my chest, I took out my own phone and pretended to punch in her details.

“Got it.”

“Text me, okay?” She smiled sweetly and chuckled. “Walk me to class?”

“I’m sorry, Courtney. I promised the science teacher I’d help set up his next presentation.”

“Aw, you’re so sweet, Alejandro.” With that, she waved and took off for her next class.

As shameful as this is for me to admit, I skipped my last class and spent thirty minutes splashing my face with water and mulling over my new Courtney situation. I even took the time to scrub at the lip gloss marks, but even after I’d wiped them off, I could still feel a lingering tingle. It was rare that a kiss came with such a heavy price tag attached.

***

On the way home, I grabbed a cheap greasy McDonald’s burger. Then I holed up in my room, or more specifically, the room I shared with Jose. I was so thankful he had an all-night shift at the gas station tonight.

I wedged myself in the corner of the room wedged between my bed and the wall. Overflowing with shame, I reached into the paper bag and dug out the cancer-on-a-bun burger. My eyes started welling with frustrated tears as I tore off the thin yellow wrapper and took a big bite. No matter how much I thoroughly despised McDonald’s, it was still better and a quick, convenient substitute for Athena’s rubbery pasta.

There was a knock at the bedroom door. My shoulders sagged and I closed my eyes, smiling wryly at the sliding lock on the door. Both that lock had been pulled across and Jose’s computer chair had been wedged under the knob.

“Alejandro? It’s dinner time!” Carlos called out. “Mama and Athena are waiting.”

“I have a big test tomorrow!” I called back as big fat embarrassing tears rolled down my cheeks. “I really need to study. I grabbed something on the way home so I could get right to it.”

“Care to join us for a few minutes?” Carlos asked, slight concern in his voice.

“It’s a test for French class.”

There were a few beats of silence. Carlos was well aware of how infatuated I was with the French language. I remember gushing to him over the phone years ago about how desperately I wanted a chance to practice speaking and refining my so limited pool of knowledge on the subject. So, this was one of the few lies I knew I could successfully sell him on.

Carlos let out a heavy sigh. “Alright. I hope you do well tomorrow.”

I took another bite of the burger and sloppily swiped at my tears with one of the napkins in the bag. As hard as I tried, I couldn’t get myself to finish the nightmare burger. It ended up in the trash along with the uneaten sugar-drenched fries once I threw myself back on the mattress. The smell lingered heavily in the air. My stomach churned and lurched, but I’ve been getting used to scents from the seventh level of hell over the past week.

Jose had been dragging fast food home for the past week. Somehow, his diet had increased dramatically and the fellow that used to send well done steak back to the chef was shoveling down grease-soaked burgers every night. He was a very broken and defeated man, but he was too proud to express himself or talk things out. Instead, he was turning to fast food for...I don’t know. Comfort?

I guess. I guess I was hoping that it might help me too. If one McDonald’s burger could fill the void growing in my stomach then I could easily balance it out with enough exercise and meditation later, right? I’ve been exercising, but my mind is too rattled to meditate lately.

A few more tears rolled down my face when my cell phone buzzed in my pocket. I scrubbed at my face, hating how gross and weak and utterly pathetic I felt. My heart sank to the toes of my boots when I glanced at the screen. But I steeled myself and answered anyway.

“Hello Papa...” I managed, trying to sound more confident than I felt.

“Hello Alejandro. I have a proposition for you.”

“Yes…?” I felt so low right now it was hard to summon up any kind of reaction. All I knew was that he was about to dangle something in my face like a callous fisherman baits an unsuspecting worm. He’d always enjoyed pitting Jose and I against each other by offering exclusive opportunities like a chance to go to a prestigious private school in Paris or a violin lesson with the best violinist in the world. All it took was furthering our hatred for each other and achieving some arbitrary, petty goal that ultimately made Papa look better in the long run.

“I remember how you used to go on and on about wanting to study architecture at the Pratt Institute...” Papa said with a certain smugness and satisfaction in his voice. What I imagined was an anthropomorphic cat with a wide, devilish grin full of sharp, glinting canines.

“Yes?”

“I’ll cover your full tuition if you get straight As this semester and become the president of at least two school clubs as well as earn the class president title overall.”

A big lump formed in my throat as I shot a tired look at the architecture books lying at the base of my bed. Blueprints and pictures of beautiful, arcing Gothic cathedrals filled my mind’s eye. Drool collected on my bottom lip and I swallowed hard.

“And you know what kinds of connections I have.” He chuckled softly. “I could set you up with a job right out of college.”

My heart was stuck inside of a piano getting played by an insane pianist that kept pounding the pedals. Every heart beat was strained and painful as if my heart was set between a piano hammer and string.

“What do you say, Alejandro?”

He knew he had hooked me in. I was a helpless fish, desperately floundering about and trying to return to the placid waters below.

“Yes.” I swallowed hard. “Yes, I’ll do it.”