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moonstruckme · 7 months

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On Thin Ice

part 1 | part 2 | part 3

This was requested by anon, but I'm not including the request because I'm going to write at least one more part and I don't want to spoil anything. But thanks so much for requesting, anon my love! I'm really having fun with it :) Also, just a disclaimer that I know next to nothing about figure skating, so while I tried to look most things up, there may be some inaccuracies

summary: when your usual figure skating partner Regulus is injured, you're forced to prepare the most romantic routine you've ever done with Sirius Black. You've known Sirius since you were little and have always found him irritating, but as you spend more and more time together, your feelings towards him start to change

cw: mention of injury (no details), Sirius Black is a relentless flirt

Figure Skater!Sirius Black x fem!reader ♡ 3.3k words

You want to be kinder to your friend, but you’re a bit angry with him. You’re not great at hiding it, either.

“It’s not like I can fucking help it.” Regulus rolls his eyes, and you do your best to undo the petulant pout of your lips.

“I know,” you sigh. “I know that. I’m sorry, it’s just, seriously? Why can’t Coach give me someone else?”

“You know why.”

You blow out another huffy breath, because you do know, but that doesn’t make you like it any better. Sirius is our best bet, your coach had told you, firm and impassive to your protests. He’s great on the ice, he always scores well, and Reg can teach him the routine while they’re at home. If we used anyone else, we’d lose time while they learned it. You’d sulked, and he’d given you a stern look. So suck it up.

And you’re trying. Kind of. You wouldn’t ordinarily consider yourself an ill-tempered person, but Sirius Black brings out the worst in you. Always has. He’s Regulus’ irritating older brother, always around to pull your pigtails when you were little and make fun of everything you and Reg enjoyed as you got older. And in everything you love about your best friend, Sirius is the opposite. Where Regulus is restrained, Sirius is brash; where Regulus is content with a few close friends, Sirius needs an entire posse around him at all times; where Regulus has a quick, quiet wit, Sirius seems to feel a joke isn’t worth telling if everyone can’t hear it. He’s loud and facetious and insufferable, and now he’s your partner in the most intimate routine you’ve ever done.

“I know,” you groan again, falling back onto Regulus’ bed. “I just wish I could change it. Who do I have to bribe to get you a miracle recovery?”

Regulus scoffs, but he lies down beside you sympathetically. “The doctor said it should be better by next season, but a fractured ankle doesn’t fix itself in a couple weeks.” His voice turns bitter. “Trust me, I asked.”

You wince guiltily. You’re not the only one suffering from Regulus’ incapacity. You’d both been practicing this routine for weeks. It was one of the most challenging and showy either of you have ever done. You were both supposed to have the chance to really shine, showing off your skills with complicated jumps and throws, some of which you’d never attempted before. But now Reg wouldn’t get the change.

Ironically, it had been a fairly simple routine that had taken him down. One of your go-tos. You’d been performing it together for years, but maybe that sense of security was dangerous too. It’s too easy to land wrong, and one tiny slip had fractured Regulus’ ankle right in the middle of competition, forcing your coach to come help you get him off the ice.

You’d cried more than he had as the on-site medics had inspected it, completely unhelpful but unable to bear seeing your best friend’s features twisted in agony. It turned out that was nothing compared to the look on his face when they’d told him he wouldn’t be able to skate on it for months.

“How does it feel?” you ask, more gently now, and Regulus’ scowl softens in response. “Does it still hurt all of the time?”

“Not really, only when I walk on it. And they said I should be able to do that without much pain soon, just no jumping or anything.”

Your heart aches with sympathy, and you have to resist the urge to reach over and touch his hand, his hair. Regulus has never much liked being touched, which you understand, but it makes him a difficult person to comfort. You resort to your method with the highest success rate: distraction.

“Well, at least the cast is a fun accessory,” you say, forcing levity into your voice. “We could draw on it, it’ll be like having tattoos.”

“Pass,” Reg replies disinterestedly. “Tattoos are more my brother’s aesthetic than mine.”

“Ugh.” You roll your eyes, unable to stopper your irritation at the return of the conversation to Sirius. “Do you think Coach will let me have a new partner if I kneecap him?”

“If you’re going to kneecap someone,” comes a cool voice from the open doorway, “it’s probably best not to ponder your scheme so loudly in their house.”

You raise your head to find Sirius leaning against the door frame, arms crossed insouciantly in front of his chest. He looks at you with the eyes he shares with his brother, but where Regulus’ tend towards cool grayness, Sirius’ always seem to waver between gray and blue, like the sky during a storm. They’re flashing now, amusement mingled with cunning, as you meet them with a glare.

“Maybe I’m just giving you a red herring,” you say smoothly, “so you’ll never see my actual plan coming.”

“I wouldn’t put it past you, shortcake,” Sirius replies, grinning when your face goes hot at the nickname, “but I think I’ll start wearing protective gear just in case. Reg, think you could revoke this one’s key until after the competition?”

Regulus pretends to contemplate this, staring up at the ceiling. “No, she’ll only start coming in through my window again.” You grin at him, and the corner of his mouth twitches in response, remembering all the cuts and bruises you used to have when you were younger from climbing the old tree outside his window, late at night when you were both supposed to be asleep. The first few times you’d tried, rotting branches had broken and fallen from beneath you, but you’d kept at it until you’d plotted a safe course. You’re sure Reg would have snuck downstairs to let you in the front door if you’d ask him, but better you get in trouble than him. “Anyway, it’ll be entertaining to watch.”

“Whatever happened to brotherly loyalty?” Sirius feigns hurt, but gets past it quickly. “Well, I suppose you’ll just have to keep in mind that if I can’t perform, there won’t be a performance. I’ve already learnt half the routine, and I think you might struggle to find someone else skilled enough to catch up in time.” He winks at you, and you scoff, pointedly unaffected. “So I’ll see you at practice on Monday, sunshine,” he gloats, and disappears down the hallway.

You wait until you hear the click of his door to lay back down, passing a hand over your face exhaustedly. “I can’t believe I’m going to have to deal with that all of the time,” you moan.

Regulus chuckles wryly. “Welcome to my world.”

☆ ☆ ☆

“Y/N,” Coach calls frustratedly. “You have to let him throw you, not jump.”

You’ve almost just followed in Regulus’ footsteps for the upteenth time today, which isn’t exactly in line with your plan of getting Sirius injured, but you figure will do in a pinch. The truth is, your focus has been off all day. Switching to a new partner is always hard; you’re used to Regulus, you’ve spent years learning how to skate together, to anticipate the other’s movements, and finding that rhythm with another person takes work. But learning how to skate with Sirius is more challenging than even you had expected. He’s distracting, for one thing. He keeps smiling at you, making faces when you mess up, and whispering obnoxious little pointers when you’re in the middle of a complicated move. And his own movements are bigger and more elaborate than you’re used to, lacking Regulus’ control. You can see, objectively, how it works for him. It gives his performance that extra bit of artistry that Regulus has often been accused of needing, but it makes him more difficult to anticipate. He’s stronger than Reg, too, so he throws you higher, flings you farther, grips you tighter. It’s a lot to learn, but your coach doesn’t seem very sympathetic to your plight. As far as he’s concerned, you’ve wasted almost an entire day of practice and are undoing weeks of hard work learning the choreography with your repeated mistakes.

You nod at him again, moving to reset, but Sirius slides in front of you.

“Hey,” he says, “I can feel you tensing when I go to throw you. Is something wrong?”

You cross your arms in front of your chest, breath still puffing into the air between you from the exertion of your leap. “No,” you reply shortly. “I’ll fix it.”

And really, you should have been able to fix it a dozen tries ago. You’ve practiced throws with Regulus for years now. You’re supposed to push down on Sirius’ shoulders, use the momentum of your spin to give you a little boost, and let him do the rest. But you can’t seem to manage the last part. Sirius’ hands on your waist had discomposed you from the first try, and you keep finding yourself trying to jump off the ground before he has a chance to lift you. It doesn’t work, you know it’s never going to work, but it’s like some fight-or-flight instinct takes over every time Sirius’ hands get close to you. You suspect it’s because you’re so used to Regulus’ touch aversion; this routine is meant to seem romantic, but between the two of you, it had always felt chaste, more about the mechanics of the movements than the meanings behind them. Sirius loves to be touched, though, probably too much. He teases you about how cold your hand is in his, the tentative way you touch his shoulder when you’re supposed to grip it, how you jolt a little when he rests his hand on the small of your back. You’re on edge every second he’s around you, which by the very nature of the routine, is often.

And so you keep jumping, which causes Sirius’s throw to be stunted when he can’t get a good grip on you, which causes you to fumble your landing. Every. Time.

“You can trust me, you know,” Sirius persists, looking half earnest for once in his life. “I’m not going to launch you too high or anything. Just let me do the work.”

“I’ve got it,” you growl, and Sirius raises his hands in mocking surrender, moving out of your way. You glide back into position, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. You don’t need his advice, you’ve been doing just fine without it for years. You’ll get it on your own.

☆ ☆ ☆

“Why is it,” Regulus drawls, coming into your room, “that when you mess up at practice, it’s still my problem to solve?” He sits on the edge of your bed, careful not to disturb the open bottle of nail polish you’re using. “I’m not even your partner right now, but both Coach and Sirius are complaining to me that you can’t sync up with him.”

You keep your eyes on your fingertips, sweeping the brush across your nails in careful, measured strokes. “I’m working on it.”

“What’s the problem?” He sounds more puzzled than frustrated. “Sirius is annoying, but he’s not actually an asshole. He won’t sabotage you.”

“I’m not accusing him of anything,” you say. “I just…I can’t get it right. I don’t know. He’s so different to you, and I can’t figure out how to make it work.”

“Well, you’d better figure it out soon,” Regulus replies, not without sympathy. “There’s only a couple of weeks until comp, and it seems like the both of you will need all the practice you can get together.”

You know he’s right, and that’s exactly what you’re dreading.

☆ ☆ ☆

The next practice goes about the same, the only difference being your coach’s mounting exasperation. Actually, no, there is one other change: Sirius’ movements become smoother, more sure, as he grows increasingly familiar with the choreography.

So basically, he’s getting better while you’re getting worse.

Though you all know there’s no time to waste with the competition coming up, Coach ends practice early in his irritation, letting you go with strict instructions to get your shit together before you meet again tomorrow. You promise him you’ll try, though you’re both coming to know that won’t be enough.

You take your time unlacing your skates, shrugging on your jacket and stopping to buy a hot chocolate from the vendor up front before going out into the brisk autumn air. You’d started this new routine after your first practice with Sirius, stalling so that he’d have a head start and you wouldn’t have to walk home in the same direction, but you take two steps outside before you realize your plan has been foiled.

“Coach will kill you if he catches you with one of those,” you say, and the cherry of Sirius’ cigarette burns orange as he takes a drag, eyes lighting with playful defiance.

He blows the smoke away from you. “You won’t tattle on me though, will you, sunshine?”

“Reg won’t like it either.”

“He knows,” Sirius says, as though Regulus’ opinion is of little concern to him. “You took your time in there. Ready to go?”

You don’t try to keep the suspicion from your face. “You were waiting on me?”

“I figure we could use some extra practice.” He drops his cigarette, stamping it out half smoked. “If you’re not too tired, I mean.” You give him an indignant look, and Sirius grins. “C’mon, it’s too cold out here for those leggings.”

You follow him reluctantly, sipping at your hot chocolate because damn it, he’s right. The wind had been cool when you’d gone into practice, but nightfall has stolen the little bit of warmth the sun provided. You wouldn’t be surprised if you woke tomorrow to find the trees prematurely bare of their leaves.

The Blacks’ house isn’t far, and your eager pace gets you there in a hurry. You’re thinking you’ll go to Regulus’ room as soon as you get inside, ditching Sirius and whatever humiliation he has planned for you, but when you approach the house, every window is dark.

“They’re at my aunt’s for dinner,” Sirius answers your unasked question, unlocking the door. “I begged off because of practice.” He laughs as you follow him inside. “Try not to look so happy about it, shortcake.”

You roll your eyes, starting up the stairs that go to the bedrooms. “When will Reg be home?”

“Late.” Sirius’ voice is close behind you. “You’re welcome to wait for him, of course, but we may as well make use of the time.” On the top step, you whirl, relishing the opportunity to look down on him for once.

“Fine. What are we doing here?”

You don’t know if you’d hoped he’d be intimidated, but Sirius appears as unbothered as always. “Like I said. Practice.” He brushes past you, leading the way into his bedroom. After a moment, you follow grudgingly.

Like everything about Sirius, his room is loud. Almost every inch of wall space is covered in band posters, medals from competitions, pictures of his friends. There are clothes strewn across the bed and shoes scattered about the floor, but if Sirius is even conscious of the mess, he doesn’t mention it.

“What did you have in mind?” you ask.

Sirius turns, and when his eyes meet yours, they’re surprisingly determined. “We need to figure out whatever it is that’s been holding you up,” he says. “We’ve gotta get past it.”

You feel like stomping your foot, but very maturely refrain. You’re about done with the subject of your failures for the day. “I don’t know what it is.”

“I think you do,” Sirius says cooly. “Wanna know how I know?”

“How?”

He grins. “Because you just admitted it.”

“You—I just asked how,” you splutter angrily.

Sirius gives you a knowing look. “Right, so it has nothing to do with you being afraid of me touching you?”

Your face heats. How could he know that? You look at him for a moment, and he looks back at you with that cool, even gaze, like he thinks he’s got you all figured out. As much as you resent him for it, he’s right. You’ve got no shot at a decent score in this competition if you can’t get past your mental block around Sirius. “I’m not afraid.” You roll your eyes, downplaying the admission. “I’m just not used to it, okay? I don’t know if you’ve ever noticed, but you’re not exactly a carbon copy of my usual partner.”

Sirius grins again, and for the first time you get the sense that he’s laughing with you instead of at you. “I have been made aware of that a few times over our lives, yes. But okay, you’re not used to it. Let’s get you used to it.”

You cross your arms over your chest, not sure where he’s going with this but fairly sure you won’t like it. “What do you mean?”

“I mean, I’m going to throw you until you can handle it without flinching. Sound good?”

You look at him like he’s stupid. “The rink is closed, and there’s nowhere for me to land here.”

“Sure there is.” Sirius pats his bed cheerfully. You stay right where you are. Something changes in his expression, and you think you might detect a bit of kindness behind his teasing tone. “C’mon, sweetheart. I don’t know what Reggie’s told you, but I don’t actually bite.”

You huff, but go to stand in front of him. He’s shed his coat, revealing the plain black shirt underneath, and the sleeves grip his biceps. Even in the poor lamplight, you can see his eyes changing colors like schools of fish as they swim. Now blue, now gray.

“Alright.” Sirius sets his hands on your waist, and you tense automatically. “See, that’s the habit we have to break. Relax for me, shortcake.”

His words certainly don’t help, but you do your best, unclenching the muscles in your stomach and legs.

“Perfect,” he says, then launches you into the air. You barely have time to gasp before you’re landing on his bed, springs squealing in protest. “Okay, next time, try to spin or something.”

“I wasn’t ready,” you protest.

Sirius laughs. “I know. Sorry, couldn’t resist. Let’s try to do it like practice this time, yeah? So you go over there,” he motions to the door, “and run towards me. When I throw you, try to spin if you can, but don’t try to stick the landing or anything. Just land on your butt.”

You roll your eyes, moving to the door. “Yeah, I’m in no hurry to break my ankle like Reg, thanks.”

He winks. “Just making sure.” He spreads his feet a bit, bracing himself. “Alright, let’s give it a try.”

It’s easy to remember Sirius is an older brother when he gets all bossy like this, but you comply, gaining as much speed as you can on the way to him before he’s gripping you around the waist, tossing you into the air. You manage a half-turn before your back end hits the bed.

“Better!” Sirius exclaims, beaming at you. “You still seemed a bit tense, but at least you didn’t try to jump by yourself. Again?”

You can’t help a little smile of your own as you nod, pushing up off the bed and repositioning yourself at the door.

☆ ☆ ☆

When Regulus gets home, he finds you sprawled on Sirius’ bed with his brother sitting beside you, both thoroughly worn out.

“Did you fix it?” he asks.

You grin at the ceiling, wondering if it’s your pride or Sirius’ you’re feeling in the air, or both. “I think so.”

“Coach might get the chance to be mad at me instead, tomorrow,” Sirius laments. “My arms are fucking dead. Too many throws and I might drop you on the ice.”

“Don’t break my partner,” Regulus says warningly.

“Yeah,” you second, hauling yourself into a sitting position and going to meet Regulus at the door, “please don’t.”

You can hear Sirius’ eyes rolling as he says, “I won’t. See you at practice tomorrow, shortcake?”

It’s harder than usual to muster up annoyance for the teasing nickname. “See you tomorrow.”

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estrellami-1 · 9 months

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If I Should Stay

Part 1 | . . . | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9

After pizza—and after El wakes up and eats her own pizza—everyone gathers around again to listen to Steve and Robin. “So I think by now we’ve proven we’re from the future,” Steve says. “We’re here, four years in the past, because a lot of bad things happen, and if we can, we’d like to stop those things from happening. The big one, and really the recurring problem, is a guy named Henry Creel who essentially took control of an alternate plane of existence we call the Upside Down.” He motions El over beside him, and she goes gladly, tucking her feet up onto the couch as she leans into his side, trusting him to hold her up. He does, sliding a protective arm around her shoulders as he says, “He’s also One.”

He watches as one by one the lightbulbs come on. “Oh, shit,” Dustin whispers, and Steve doesn’t even call him on it, just nods.

“Beyond Henry, though, there are creatures in the Upside Down that can and will kill you.” He rolls his eyes fondly at the boys. “For some inexplicable reason, you came up the names, so they’re called demogorgons, demodogs, and demobats. Demogorgons are what took Barb and Will, but they both got away. That doesn’t mean they’re safe, though. Like El said earlier, Barb was safe in the moment, but it’s still a very dangerous place. There are vines everywhere that are connected to a hive mind. You step on one, and Henry knows you’re there.”

He continues telling the story, Robin interrupting when there’s a detail he misses. It’s silent when they finish. Finally, El speaks up. “So, it is… my fault?”

“No, El,” Steve says softly. “None of this is your fault. Things out of your control happened that made you who you are. Those same things created all of this.”

El frowns. “So I am bad? Like One? Like the Upside Down?”

“No,” Mike says sharply. “You’re good, El.”

“He’s right,” Steve murmurs. “You made yourself good.” He pokes her arm teasingly, and she smiles, leaning back into him.

Steve looks around, catches Nancy’s eye, and sighs. “Nance? A word?”

“Steve?” Robin asks.

He shakes his head. “I’ll yell if I need you,” he promises, rubbing her head as he passes. She squawks and bats his hand away.

“Asshole,” she mutters, and he laughs as he disappears down the hallway, Nancy in tow.

They end up in a room Steve thinks was meant to be a study. “You have questions.”

“Understatement of the century. There’s just one that’s really bugging me, though.”

“Us?”

“Yeah.”

Steve sighs and leans against the wall. “On Halloween, Tina throws a party. We didn’t know what we do now, about the Upside Down, and you were still looking for her. I was an asshole, self-centered and unhelpful.” He blows out a breath, crosses his arms, and looks away. “You got drunk, called me, and my love for you, bullshit. Left. I tried to talk to you the next day at school about it and you couldn’t say you loved me. I was still hopeful. I’m a romantic at heart, y’know? I thought maybe if I could be everything you needed, if I changed enough, if, if, if…” he shakes his head. “So we stayed together. I tried. You slept with Jonathan Byers, then broke up with me.”

Nancy looks horrified. “Steve-”

He shakes his head. “I made my peace with it. And maybe this makes me an asshole, I dunno, but Nance, I can’t go back. We’re okay, we’re friends, but I can’t pretend I still have feelings for you. I’m sorry, but we both know I was just convenient for you.”

Nancy takes a breath. “So that’s it?”

Steve shrugs helplessly. “I don’t know what you want me to do. I tried and got my heart broken for it. I moved on, found someone I think I can really be happy with, without changing who I am. And for the record? It gets rocky for a second, but I think you and Byers are it, too.” He smirks. “Plus Mike likes him better than me.”

Nancy rolls her eyes. “Oh, well, if Mike likes him better…” they both laugh, and she looks at him. “No more feelings?”

He shakes his head. “We make much better friends.”

Nancy grins lopsidedly. “And Robin?”

Steve snorts. “Purely platonic, I promise. Neither of us want anything else with each other.”

Nancy looks at him then. Studies him. “You’ve been through some shit,” she decides. “But you look happy.”

He smiles. “I am, for the most part. I know who I am.”

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matrixbearer2024 · 2 months

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Tiny Vox part 2?

Idk if you'll use this but I just want to give it to you.

I kind of headcannon tiny vox the be dumber, because the unprepared small body can't load all his data very well. So I imagine Vox, being stupidly in love, trying the help them when they are doing the dishes or working on their hobby bit he is just making more of a mess and smiling dumbly in love. Like when reader likes to draw heb grabs a random coloured pencil and bring it to them. You know just adorable but unhelpful.

Pocket-sized Partner: VoxPet™️ Care Guide

Tiny!Vox x Reader

A/N: So uhhh- here's a teeny little Headcanon thing while I write the continuation for the VoxPet series because I love smol TV guy. That and I'm starting to slightly feel the burnout, well- I can't tell if that's the right term since I'm starting to look at my ideas and realize that they're starting to lack the coherence and polish they used to. ANYWAY! Here's a Headcanon list for the small guy before I post the continuation for it- so I hope you guys enjoy! Happy reading!

So given Vox's mostly bionic/mechanical biology, it makes sense that he doesn't necessarily regenerate the same as other more organic(flesh-based) sinners.

Instead, he has spare bodies to upload his consciousness and switch into if the one he's using gets damaged and needs repairs or is just not worth saving.

Hence he has a couple spares lying around.

It's just in this instance, the only spare he had left was in a less than desirable condition-

And the others were still broken or just beyond repair.

Having a his brain be it's own practical digital entity also plays into this, I'd think in his paranoia he'd have copies of his own data stored in cloud servers all over the pride ring too.

So it won't be easy should someone try to get rid of him.

Anyway, back to the body switching.

So this new body Vox took is a very underpowered and overutilized little thing.

Imagine running a Skyrim with over a thousand mods on the highest graphics using a 7 year old dell laptop.

Yeah. That's what Vox is currently doing.

The small body is already running at full capacity with his overload of data and it's not even all of it.

Just the basic necessities like his personality and habits.

Like, what make Vox- vox.

Everything else like his schedules, alarms, work, etc.

They're just uploaded to a cloud server with the rest of his complete data.

Oh I forgot to mention, in his haste to make this tiny cute form-

He totally forgot to give it the ability to form even basic speech patterns.

Hence the squeaking and beeping.

He actually can't talk, not that the small body would even have any more processing room if he did do that.

Vox merely figured that you'd probably find some enjoyment anyway in his predicament until the new spare parts arrived and he didn't want to keep moving around dripping coolant and blood accompanied by some sparking wires.

Let's not even mention the cracked screen.

His face being messed up was probably the least of his issues there too.

So you kind of had to take care of him as that small little guy in that hastily put together body.

Also, because it's so underpowered and practically at it's peak use-

Vox can't actually really use his powers much.

Which he didn't realize only until after he flipped out when Velvette and Valentino found him when the staff were panicking from him suddenly going AWOL.

In this tiny body, he only has his generally human memorization skills to recall important things.

Not his flawless computer memory, which was lumped in with the data this body couldn't hold.

He did thank his lucky stars that you weren't so upset about the state he was in though.

You'd often flip the hell out when he got hurt or just had blatant disregard for his own wellbeing.

I mean, when you can switch bodies like the socks on your feet would you be careful too?

I wouldn't, I'd try every single way to die just out of sheer curiosity and boredom-

Anyway, after you got over the initial shock of seeing your boyfriend all plushie sized and everything-

You better bet he got fucking spoiled.

Literally like a chihuahua in a purse moment.

Y'all know those build a bear clothes and accessories?

Yeah no you'd dress Vox up and down in those tiny things and he just couldn't stop you.

He could figure out how to delete all the photos you'd taken when he got back to normal.

But if being treated like a doll was all it took for you to just drown him in kisses and hugs-

You better bet this man would go ahead and pull something like this again.

Plus the compulsion to just aggressively cuddle the life out of him-

Well he's already dead but the point stands.

He can't help but soak up your affection like a thirsty sponge though.

You do eventually realize that he actually has to be plugged in to recharge though.

Plugged in by a port on the back of his teeny head.

What, where did you think he'd put it?

You're glad that Vox tends to leave all sorts of cords of different lengths around your apartment.

Something to do with his work?

You had half a brain to tie him up with those said cords sometimes-

It was irritating at first but after you organized them to keep, at least you didn't dispose of them since you needed them now-

For once the hardware spaghetti was actually useful.

And thank goodness for the long wire, because he'd become extremely clingy after all the attention and affection you'd given him.

Tiny dude was sitting on your lap being pet and coddled while charging.

All while you were reading a book.

Yep. He was a spoiled little shit.

You also realized that he didn't need to eat because of the charging thing-

But he could if he wanted to.

As proven when Vox just took a small part of your meal and slowly ate it.

It wasn't even a full bite for you but it looked comically big in his tiny hands.

He installed a proper digestive system but not a text to speech thing.

Sometimes you wondered if your boyfriend's priorities were a little more wayside that you originally took them for.

He was so cute trying to help you with the dishes though.

Couldn't really do much because of how small he was-

Not to mention the fact you didn't even want to risk any more damage to him since electronics and water are generally not a good mix-

But he tried, and you'd count him being adorable as helpful emotional support anyway.

Even if he really didn't do anything aside from play with the bubbles and smile cutely at you.

If he didn't have an empire and corporation to run you might actually just keep him like this-

Even when you were looking over at some documents his secretary sent over to sign-

You guessed it was because Vel mentioned that Vox was in your care for the time being.

He was wobbling around holding a pen that was probably half his size.

Again cute as hell, but an unhelpful distraction-

Now when you went to sleep?

You plugged Vox in again and just cuddled him against your chest.

The same thing happens when he "sleeps" whether big or in this form anyway.

Screen dims and then his company logo screensaver pops up.

Anyway, I say sleep in quotations because Vox doesn't actually sleep in the conventional sense.

It's just one of the many ways he can physically recharge.

So if he does sleep it's often by choice or because he just passes out.

If he wanted to keep going physically, Vox could just directly connect himself into a power outlet and not ever run out of juice.

Mentally though- it's why he actually needs our version of sleep.

Or periods of system shutdown where he can actually mentally recuperate.

Otherwise he'd be a cracked out delirious mf hyped up on caffeine.

Which he is sometimes regardless.

Either way, you'd pet and cuddle him until he fell asleep before you would also succumb to slumber.

When you woke up though, he somehow ended up cuddling your face.

You had no idea when that even happened.

He greeted you with a happy beep and a heart on his tiny face when you woke up though.

It was probably selfish as hell but now you really wanted to keep him like this just a little longer-

#hazbin hotel #vox x reader #vox #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #hazbin hotel x reader #vox x you #hazbin vox x reader #hazbin hotel vox x reader

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izuke-the-zombie · 1 year

Text

Just some Fem ShadowPeach AU ideas 🍑🥭

I was in the mood for some fun FemMacaque and FemWukong ideas. I don't have any Aus of them, not my best idea but I thought it was kind of funny.

Here's a little info about it in case anyone was interested

Macaque works for a company it's an office job, just sitting and doing work all day filing papers and answering calls. typical office job stuff.

She was working here way before she met MK. MK's never been to her actual home, the dojo was just the place she works out and trained at so she didn't have to go to an actual gym.

Mac rents a one-bedroom apartment on the very top of a building somewhere, it's cheap cuz it's smaller than other rooms in the building, but she found a closed-off apartment room right next to her built-in kitchen pantry by accident, so she has two apartments to herself. she has the biggest room now in the whole Building. (Yay mac)✨

She couldn't find an apartment anywhere near her job so she uses magic to get to work and uses the bus to get back home.

One day Wukong finds out she has a job while at home being bored when MK didn't have training that day and decides to prank call Some Humans for fun, it so happens it's the office place mac works at, she recognized mac voice and quickly hangs up.

Monkey Queen was immediately suspicious of why she had a job when she can just stay in FFM! that maybe it could be a scheme of some sort (and maybe secretly relieved that she was safe and mac still stayed in the city but would never admit it.) she looks up the company she works at, she calls MK to help her find out what Mac could be scheming.

MK knows she has a job just doesn't know where she works, he doesn't like bothering her too much cuz she looks tired sometimes.

Mk's tired of monkey Queen dragging him to sneak around mac offers monkey Queen a better solution, getting close to Mac by helping Mac out and offering to pick her up after work, bring her some vegetables and fruits from her FFM Mountain to save up some on groceries so on so forth just helping out a mac. She begrudgingly agrees.

Mac doesn't use glamor she uses magical items to glamor up so she doesn't waste too much Magic on it, it's her earrings.

Monkey Queen pulls pranks on their coworkers Mac complains about, how they pile their work on her and leave too early how they're just overly unhelpful and never do their work, and how they just gossip all day long. Just annoying coworkers!

MK suggests to Mac to offer monkey Queen to come around during her lunch break and offer to make her a boxed lunch too and just hang out since she's been so helpful. She decides that she could do that, just as a thank you for everything she's done for her. She hesitantly agrees.

MK and Mei plan to make them get along or become a couple they haven't decided on which one yet.🐲🐵 mischievous matchmakers.

Bonus

🎵Don't be suspicious, don't be suspicious,🎶

#monkie kid #lego monkie kid #lmk #sun wukong #six eared macaque #doodle #macaque #fem macaque #fem wukong #fem shadowpeach #monkey queen #shadowpeach #Dumb AU ideas #Office JobMacaqueAU #It's kind of an au..... Maybe #Not sure

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cal-flakes · 10 months

Text

╰┈➤ getting high with dealer!rafe

warnings: drug use, swearing, a tad nsfw. (possible confusion over drug terminology, for example; ‘backdrop’ is the build up you get in the back of your throat after sniffing cocaine)

summary: y/n gets high with dealer!rafe at a party.

perspiration apparent on his forehead as the room filled with bodies, music booming as the people around him swayed. rafe sat on the couch in the basement of the house, a couple dozen packets of white powder spread across the table in front of him. blocking out obnoxious laughter, he scanned the room, cocaine paranoia kicking in a bit. the ceiling above him creaked here and there, the vast amount of people upstairs threatened to break the floorboards.

unbeknownst to him, sarah had invited a couple of her friends to his party, including y/n. a girl so sweet and kind to the people around her it almost made him sick to his stomach. she was somewhat of a hidden gem in the outerbanks, doing well in school, keeping to her self and so on. y/n was everything rafe cameron wasn’t, yet this intrigued him. the urge to corrupt his sisters friend grew each time she visited the cameron household.

“just stay for a little while y/n, please? for me?” sarah pleaded with her friend, desperate to crack the shell around her. sighing, y/n glanced from the lemonade in her cup to her friend. recognising the look in her eyes, sarah squealed and wrapped her arms around the girl. “thank you! i promise we’ll have fun!”

battling the thoughts in her head, y/n decided against fleeing the scene and returning home to her books, wanting to please her friend.

linking arms, sarah and y/n moved to the makeshift dance floor that the party-goers had created in the living room. giggling to eachother, the girls swayed in sync with the music, swirling around eachother.

“sarah..” y/n feigned a concerned look “no! please don’t leave yet! we just started having fun!” chuckling at this, y/n grabbed the cup from sarah’s hand, stealing a sip.

sarah’s eyes lit up “oh my gosh! do you want your own?” she asked, silently begging her to say yes. y/n nodded, laughing as her friend dragged her through the crowd.

reaching the kitchen island, sarah stared at the copious amounts of alcohol in front of her, trying to work out what y/n would like.

“how about this?” sarah turned, holding out a bottle of vodka for y/n to inspect. her face twisted a bit, unsure until sarah spoke again “I can add in some lemonade, and maybe some juice to mask the taste?” face untwisting, y/n agreed with her, reaching for her new drink.

y/n felt overly daring tonight, something about actually staying at a party for more than thirty minutes made her see what she was missing out on.

three vodkas with juice and lemonade down, she started feeling a little buzzed, and a bit too dizzy to keep up with the whirling bodies around her. “hey sarah? im going to go find somewhere to sit down for a little while” y/n called, taking off once she received a nod.

reaching the upstairs hallway, y/n looked around at the numerous doors, her mind was too fuzzy to make out which room was her friends. taking a chance, she opened the door furthest left and shut it behind her. she made her way to the neatly made bed, perching on the edge as she let herself get lost in thought.

back in the basement, rafe stood up from his spot on the couch, looking over the now empty table. he’d made quite a bit of profit that night, despite having kept some to himself. slipping the wad of cash into his pocket, he pushed through the sweaty bodies, heading for his room.

before heading upstairs, he was stopped by a hand on his arm. “rafe, have you seen y/n?” his brows furrowed as he looked at his sister. “y/n’s here?” sarah huffed at his unhelpful answer. “yes, obviously. she was a bit buzzed and went to sit somewhere, now i can’t find her!” rafe nodded at sarah and let her know he’d keep an eye out.

the stoic look on his face was wiped away when he found y/n sat on the edge of his bed upon entering his room. jumping slightly, her eyes widened at the sight of her friends brother. “oh, is this your room?, im so sorry!” she panicked, having heard things about rafe’s temperament. shaking his head, he moved towards her slowly.

“nah, it’s all good princess, y’alright?” y/n’s face flushed slightly at the nickname, not that she wasn’t used to it, but it always got to her.

rafe’s growing interest in his sisters friend had provoked him to become more flirty whenever she was around. “um, yeah im fine, thank you..” y/n smiled sweetly, unintentionally batting her lashes as she did. smirking, rafe sat down on the opposite side of the bed, resting against the wooden headboard.

“too much to drink huh?” chuckling lowly as she nodded. “well, i’ got something that could help if you want it..” rafe reached into his bedside drawer, stuffing the money from his pocket inside before rummaging around underneath some magazines.

y/n looked on at him curiously, waiting for the miracle to be revealed. pulling his arm back out, her face dropped as he held out a half empty packet in front of her.

“i-is that..” she stuttered, “coke?” rafe sat up, pushing some loose hairs behind her ear. “you don’t gotta do it if you don’t want to, it’ll help though” he stated, carefully opening the small bag and poured some on the top side of his thumb. y/n watched rafe as he lifted his hand, sniffing the small bump up his nostril.

“well princess? what’s it gonna be?” he asked. concentration painted her face as she considered it. “i-uh, if I do, would you promise to never say a word?” she questioned him, worried he’d tell his sister.

sarah often made it her mission to keep rafe away from y/n, knowing him well enough to identify his intentions. y/n knew it wouldn’t go down well if sarah found out she was in rafe’s with him, never mind sniffing cocaine.

“your secrets safe with me baby” shuffling towards her, he tipped out another bump onto his thumb and held out his hand. y/n’s breath quickened as she wrapped a hand around his wrist, keeping it steady.

her mind was racing. what about this? what about that? glancing up at his expectant eyes, she quickly pinched her other nostril closed and went for it.

sniffing up as hard as she could, rafe quickly reached for her. “tip your head back a bit..” holding the back of her neck gently, “and sniff up again” he instructed. y/n rested her head in rafe’s palm, doing as he said.

as she brought her head back, a sound of disgust left her throat as mucus began to build up. “that’s just the backdrop baby, here, i’ll get you a drink”

returning from his ensuite, he handed her a glass of water which she quickly accepted, desperate to get rid of the lingering taste of gasoline in her mouth. “how do you do that? that tastes awful” she frowned, making a mental note to never do that again. “it’s about the feeling princess, you get used to the taste”

checking her phone, a quiet gasp slipped from her lips. it was so late, her parents were probably wondering where she was. “shit rafe, i need to get home” swiftly, y/n jumped from the bed, making her way to the door.

“woah! not so fast y/n, you can’t go home like that” rafe called, stopping her in her tracks. “like what?” he gestured towards the mirror on her left, watching as she stepped in front of it.

“oh my god…” y/n muttered, unsure of who she was looking at as a girl with pupils like saucers stared back at her. “what am i gonna do?” she almost cried, there was no way her parents could see her like this.

“stay the night” rafe said calmly, a little too calm for y/n’s liking. she looked at him like he’d suggested they go to the moon or something. “are you crazy? sarah would kill me!” rafe’s lips turned up into yet another smirk.

“so what?”

#rafecameron #dom!rafe #mean!rafe #outer banks #rafe cameron #rafe cameron x fem!reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #rafe fic #outerbanks rafe #rafe imagine #rafe x reader #obx imagine #obx

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bookyeom · 5 months

Note

Hallo Leslie!! I finally had a free brain moment to look through your prompt ideas, and if you’re still open to requests, how about # 61 + 90 from the second list?

Hope your week is off to a good start!

A/N: I'm so sorry these prompts took 800 years to get written, but here we are. This one may or may not be inspired by Wait (it 100% is inspired by Wait). Enjoy!!

Please Don't Tell Me Wait

Pairing: Dino x Reader Genre: idiots to lovers, friends to lovers Rating: PG (because of the kissing ig?) Word Count: 2.3k Request Prompt: "you can tell me anything." Warnings: kissing, Lee Chan as a general warning

YN: I’ll kill you, Boo Seungkwan. I will

Boo: why? 😇

YN: What could possibly be so important that you ‘suddenly’ need to go to the mall all the way across town immediately, bring Vernon, Soonyoung and Mingyu with you, and cancel on movie night?? When Chan is already almost here?

Boo: giving you and Channie some alone time 🙂

You gape down at your phone.

YN: you’re shameless. Evil and vile. Canceled.

Boo: I think you misspelled thank you?

Your next raging text is lost mid-type as your doorbell rings, and you straighten up in your seat. You have a quick internal debate with yourself about whether or not you should answer, but then you think about how sad Lee Chan would be if you didn’t open the door, and you find yourself moving without any more thought. Whipped, comes the unhelpful thought.

As soon as you open the door, you feel like you’ve been punched in the gut. Your breath catches just at the sight of him, wearing his favourite grey hoodie and a smile, and you don’t think you’ve ever seen anyone more breathtaking in your life. “Hi,” he says, and you want so badly to ignore the way everything around you feels a little bit brighter just at the sound of his voice. You are in so deep.

You let him in and he quickly makes himself at home. It isn’t the first time your friends have plotted to get the two of you alone, but it is the first time it’s been in such an intimate setting. Chan’s been over to your place so many times before, but always with one of the boys in tow. You hate how nervous you feel.

You’re nervous because you like him. When Seungkwan found out last month, pretty soon everyone within earshot knew, too. Somehow – and you thanked the stars for this – Chan didn’t seem to have a clue.

One thing about your friend Chan: he was pretty oblivious, for the most part. You knew so many people who would kill for a chance with him, but he didn’t seem to notice or even care. He flirted with you – that much was clear. You weren’t naive. But he’d never once seemed to mean anything more than friendly banter, because that’s just who he is, so here you were. Pining unrequitedly after one of your friends, with your other friends desperately trying to push the two of you together. It was frustrating at best.

You can make it through this night. You always have fun with Chan, and talking to him is easy enough when you aren't thinking too much. You have similar taste in movies and snacks, he’s funny, he's a good listener… the list is endless. You like being around him. You can do this.

You manage to act relatively normal as the two of you get settled for the movie, even as Chan makes a joke about the guys ditching, even as you almost physically jump back when he hands you the popcorn bowl to carry into the living room, and your fingers brush. You’re fine, up until the moment you’re sitting on your couch with snacks at the ready, a semi-breathable distance between the two of you, and he decides to speak up.

“Can I tell you something?”

“You can tell me anything.” You answer without hesitation, because it’s true.

“Well…” He pauses, and you meet his gaze with a raised eyebrow when he doesn’t continue. As soon as your eyes are on him and away from the TV, his lips turn upward and he says, “I think you look really pretty tonight.”

Your eyes widen, and you nearly drop the remote. You watch as the corner of his mouth lifts up even further into a smile, and you can tell he’s pleased with himself. He raises his eyebrows, waiting for a response, but you don’t have one. Your mind wants to ask it, wants desperately to just blurt out the question — is this a date? Are we on a fucking date right now? — but you refrain.

“Chan,” is what you say instead, with a roll of your eyes as you hold out the remote for him to take. You know the effect his words have had on you is obvious with the way you’re reacting, but you can only pray that he doesn’t comment on it. “Just pick a movie.”

You would almost think he meant his words if he’d ever actually tried to take his flirtatious remarks any deeper, but he never does. It’s been months of this. It’s not that he’s mean, you know he’s not — you just think he doesn’t have a clue that you might actually like him.

“I mean what I said.”

You’re startled from your thoughts when Chan speaks again, and you realize that he definitely hasn’t moved to take the remote from your outstretched hand. He hasn’t taken his eyes off of you, either.

You slowly lower the remote back down to your lap. “Have you been taking lessons from Mingyu again on how to flirt?”

You watch as he leans forward slightly, that stupid, soft, teasing smile on his mouth yet again, and he asks, “Why, are they finally starting to work on you?”

You blink, staring back at him as all thoughts swiftly leave you. Your breath catches as his eyes wander across your face, and your own gaze can’t help but find his mouth.

“Maybe,” is what comes out before you can stop it.

Chan seems surprised for a second too, before he rights himself again. “Well,” he says slowly, “like I said... I meant every single word.”

His fingers gently pry the remote from your hand, eyes never leaving yours. He moves closer and closer, judging your every reaction, watching for any hesitation. He finds none. You let him draw you in, your back falling against the armrest and then he’s above you, his hands braced on the couch on either side. He’s gazing down at you so intently that you think you forget how to breathe.

“How do I know that you mean it?” Your voice is quiet, uncertain. You know that you want this, that you want him, but you’re terrified that he doesn’t mean it in the same way as you.

“I can show you,” he returns, as serious as you’ve ever seen him, and you can’t stop your gaze from falling to his mouth. He takes that as a sign. And when he leans down, nose gently brushing against yours as he waits for permission, it’s you that closes the gap first.

You kiss him, soft and hesitant. He responds almost immediately, pushing back against your mouth, a hum coming from somewhere deep in his chest. Like he’s been waiting. The thought makes your toes curl. Your hands find his waist, pulling him down to you as far as he can go, and you can feel him laugh against your mouth before he’s kissing you again, over and over, until you can’t think or feel anything but him.

You’ve never been kissed like this.

He breaks the kiss first, his forehead falling to yours as he catches his breath. You’re both silent for a moment as you process, and you can feel your heart pounding against your ribcage.

“Chan,” you finally say, voice quiet, your grip on the back of his shirt tightening.

“Yeah?” He mirrors your hushed tone, pulling away so he can look at you. He sounds breathless, and it makes you feel even dizzier.

“I…” You trail off. You squeeze your eyes shut in a feeble attempt to lessen the effect of his gaze on you like this, but it’s futile. The look on his face, the one that you’d sworn to yourself all these months meant nothing, is permanently etched into the back of your eyelids now.

He doesn’t move at all as he waits, giving you time. The heat of him so close, his entire body pressed to yours, is so intimate, so overwhelming. You can feel him everywhere, can feel every breath he takes, and you wonder if he can feel your heart ready to burst out of your chest.

“Chan,” you finally speak again, voice barely a whisper. “If you don’t…”

His eyebrows furrow; you can tell he wants to speak, but he doesn’t.

“If you don’t mean this,” you try again, your eyes still squeezed shut. “If this isn’t serious for you, then I can’t do it. I’m sorry.”

It’s silent, and your heart slowly sinks into the couch beneath you.

Then he’s gently pushing himself off of and away from you. The feeling of disappointment quickly claws its way up into your throat, robbing the air from your lungs along the way. You sit up too, keeping as much distance between you as possible. Your eyes stay trained on your hands in your lap — you can’t look at him for even a second.

“Y/N.”

You feel your eyes begin to water in spite of yourself. Stop, stop, stop.

“Y/N,” he repeats, voice soft, “I need you to look at me.”

You take a deep breath, feeling your lower lip quiver. You steady yourself before meeting his eyes, straightening your shoulders.

“Do you really not know how much I like you?”

You weren’t expecting that. The question hangs in the air as you blink back at him. “You—“

“I’ve liked you for so long… since that night when you were the only one who laughed at my joke at Soonyoung’s party.”

Your mouth falls open as you think back to that night — you know the very one. The same night that you finally learned his name — the name of the cute new guy your friends had been bringing around. That was ages ago.

“Oh.”

A few more beats of silence pass by until he speaks again.

“How could you possibly think I’m not into you? I don’t think I’ve ever been more obvious about something in my life.” He laughs nervously, running a hand through his hair.

Your heart is beating triple time as you search for your words. “We’ve known each other for six months, and you never said anything.”

“Neither did you.” He raises his eyebrows in a challenge, daring you to disagree with him, but the smile on his lips gives him away.

“You have so many friends,” you say quietly after a moment, and you watch as Chan’s face softens. “I just assumed you treated them the same way you treat me.”

“I don’t,” he says softly, “but I can see why you might have thought that.”

“So many people flirt with you. All the time.” You don’t know why you’re continuing to state these things — you blame it on the fact that you absolutely cannot process that he just told you he likes you — but Chan just takes your words as they come.

“I barely notice… especially when you’re there.” He bites his lip, tilting his head as he looks at you. “And people flirt with you too, you know.”

You let out a laugh at that, looking down at your hands. “I know.”

“But you didn’t know that I was flirting with you?” Chan asks incredulously, throwing his head back with a groan. You can tell he’s joking, and you can’t help the smile that passes over your lips now, too.

“I did know,” you offer, and Chan sits up straight to look at you again. You continue before he can protest. “But I didn’t know if it was serious for you. And for me…” You stop yourself before you admit what you were about to, feeling your cheeks flush.

For me, it’s serious.

“For you?” He prompts you to go on, and you can tell he’s trying desperately to hold back a grin, because he knows exactly what you were going to say. You let out a whine.

“Stop.”

He laughs. Then your heart leaps into your throat once more, because he’s reaching across the distance between you, finding your hand and pulling it back into his lap. “I’ll say it loud and clear so there are no misunderstandings,” he begins, thumb tracing lazy lines on the back of your hand, “I like you… seriously.”

You know he’s teasing you again, but you can’t find it in you to care when you know he’s being honest. Your eyes fall to your entwined hands, mesmerized by his gentle movements against your skin, your heart near ready to jump out of your chest at the softness of it all.

“So…”

You look back up to find him bashful as he speaks, and it’s his turn to avoid your eyes as he chews on his lower lip. You suddenly realize what you think he’s waiting for, and you smile.

“I like you a lot too,” you say, and when his gaze snaps to yours, you know you’ve said what he needed to hear. He smiles then, cheeks flushed and happy, and you’re enthralled by how shy he’s being when he had just been kissing you into oblivion moments prior.

“Good.”

You beam at him, and he beams back, before he’s pulling you closer by your joined hands and into a hug. You curl up into his side, your head finding a place in the crook of his neck.

“Y/N?” You glance up, heart stuttering a bit at the sight of him so close as you wait for him to continue. “For the record, in case you were still worried – I absolutely do not spend time with anyone else trying to ignore the way their lips move when they talk. That’s Y/N privilege.”

“Not even Soonyoung?”

He’s kissing you almost before you get the teasing words out.

A/N: please please please reblog if you liked! it's what us writers rely on :)

TAGLIST: @dejavernon @minisugakoobies @starsstuddedsky @hopeinthebox @tae-bebe @eoieopda @savventeen @wqnwoos

Message me if you want to be added to the permanent taglist!

#if u don't want to be tagged anymore message me !#dino x reader #lee chan x reader #dino fluff #svt fluff #seventeen x reader #dino comfort #seventeen fluff #seventeen imagine #dino imagine #lcficrecs #my writing #lcfic

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collecting-stories · 2 years

Note

🏕 "Accidently ending a phone call with your roommate with a casual ‘I love you’ seems like a very good reason to move out." roommate au with any stranger things guy please!

I did this with Steve, mostly cause you said he's your comfort character.

I Love You - Steve Harrington

Summary: You accidentally confess your feelings to your best friend over the phone.

A/N: I couldn't decide how to end this so it kinda just ends.

Stranger Things Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

“What do you think are the chances that I could like...move out of our apartment?” You asked Robin, leaning against the counter of the Radio Shack. It wasn’t exactly the most glamourous job in the world but it afforded a third of the rent on the apartment that Robin had found for you, her, and Steve.

When she’d first suggested the three of you living off campus together, you’d been reluctant. Keeping your feelings for Steve under wraps was a lot easier said than done, especially when you were literally living under the same roof as him. But Robin was persistent (and she put down the deposit for the first month before either of you could even process the idea long enough to back out of it) so it was no surprise to you when you found yourself trapped in an apartment contract, sleeping in a room right next to Steve’s.

Not ideal was a severe understatement and you were waiting with baited breath to completely fuck everything up. Something you absolutely knew you were going to do because when didn’t you fuck things up? You’d been coasting through this masquerade of a friendship for two years now and there was no way you were going to hold out much longer. You knew that. And then it happened, just like you had anticipated but maybe worse than you’d imagined.

“Why do you have to move out?” Robin asked, reaching for some of the fries she had brought you for dinner. You were supposed to be working but the moment she came in you’d flipped the sign on the door and locked it before announcing that you’re entire life was essentially over.

“I told him I loved him.” You admitted, grimacing at the mere thought of your fuck up.

It’d been a simple phone conversation, nothing exciting and definitely nothing to completely screw the future of your friendship with Steve over. He’d called the store cause he was going to the market and wanted to know if you had any special requests that hadn’t been written down. You asked for dunkaroos and then told you loved him. Mostly in that exact order. “Buy me dunkaroos. Thanks. See you later. I love you.” And then before he could answer (thank god before he could answer) you hung up. Hit the end call button and smashed the phone down onto the receiver and hyperventilated your way to the Radio Shack that Robin was working part time at.

It was unfortunate, probably for both of you, that the only person you could talk about Steve with was Robin but you hadn’t really branched out.

“How did that happen?”

“I just was like, bye, and then said I love you!” You replied, pressing your hands against your forehead. “I literally am dying right now.”

“I don’t think you’re dying.” Robin pointed out, not looking nearly as erratic over the entire ordeal as you were. “I mean, I’ve told Steve I love him plenty of times.”

“You’re physically incapable of being attracted to him and I’ve never once heard you tell him you love him.” You replied, “I literally said ‘I love you’ on the phone, to him.”

“So what? Just play it off.”

Robin’s advice was less than helpful. You knew that technically you could just shrug the whole thing off (if he even mentioned it at all, as Robin was quick to point out) and say that you made a mistake. You told your parents you loved them when you signed off. You said it to your grandma when she called on holidays or weekends to chat. It was totally normal and while you didn’t normally say it to Steve it was just a slip of the tongue. Easily played off and never spoken of again.

The second option that Robin presented, while still technically unhelpful, was a lot better than the first. The possibility that, just maybe, Steve hadn’t even heard you or if he had, that he wouldn’t bring it up at all because it didn’t really matter that much. You were friends, had been friends for a while, and you were living together. An ‘I love you’ here and there didn’t have to be romantic or talked about and definitely not agonised over. You could both go on living your lives as normal people who acted normal around each other.

“He’s totally into you though,” Robin had mentioned, ever the informative friend when you were in a crises.

You wanted to say “when pigs fly” or something along those lines but with all the crazy shit you’d experienced in Hawkins, pigs flying probably wouldn’t even make you bat an eye. The only thing left for you to do, since you’d dumped your problems on Robin and finished lunch, was actually return to the scene of the crime.

The apartment was small and your roommates were unavoidable, which meant that hiding from Steve and your embarrassing love confession was virtually impossible. He was home when you got back anyway, stashing his ice cream in the back of the freezer behind a bag of peas because Robin had a tendency to steal it.

“You know she knows you put the Rocky Road back there right?” You asked, skipping the ‘hello’ or ‘how are you’ or ‘is there any chance the phone cut out before I told you I love you’. “Honestly I don’t know how you can eat ice cream after working at Scoops.”

“Me and ice cream have had our differences but, I mean, it’s Rocky Road…who turns their back on Rocky Road?” Steve asked, turning to look at you over his shoulder.

“Right, my bad.” You looked away quickly, going to the fridge to grab a drink. You couldn’t hide from him but maybe you could hibernate in your room until Robin got home and then it wouldn’t be the two of you alone in the apartment. Or it would, but not alone in the same room. Alone in separate rooms, where you couldn’t say anything else embarrassing and he couldn’t mention that you told him you loved him. “I’ll be in my room. I uh, homework.” You grabbed your backpack from its spot by the couch (because you always complained about doing homework by yourself in your room and insisted on sitting on the couch and bothering your roommates with medical terminology until one of them agreed to help you study).

“Are you sure?” Steve looked genuinely surprised because he’s known you for more than five minutes, “what if you need someone to quiz you?”

“I’ll be fine.” You lied.

The whole charade, thanks to Steve’s rare intuitiveness, lasted no more than thirty agonising minutes. You suspected, for the most part, that he was humouring you. Letting you sit there and stare at your textbook and act like you were capable of not distracting yourself when both of you knew that it was impossible. And eventually, when he decided enough time had passed, he knocked on the door.

It was clear then that he was humouring you in more ways then one. Waiting to see if you would crack or if he would have to say something first. Naturally, it was the latter. “Hey, how’s it going?” Steve leaned against the doorframe of your open bedroom door. You’d left it unlocked and not fully closed, a sort of ‘I’m willing to talk but only if you start the conversation’.

“Fine,” you replied, trying not to look over at him. The last thing you needed was to look over at Steve and lose all your nerve.

He shrugged though you couldn’t actually see it, “Okay,” he said it like he didn’t believe you but he pushed off the doorframe and tapped the wall gently, “well tell me if you need a study partner.”

“I will.” you nodded; eyes still diverted.

He tapped the wall one more time, “alright,” he started to back out of the room before he stopped, calling your name, “one more thing.”

Finally, you looked up, “what?”

“I love you too.”

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pourstiel-poet · 6 months

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l feel like bruce wouldn't have no clue whatsoever as to what happened while he was lost in time--by that i mean Tim's Quest to Find Bruce Wayne. Tim's Missing Spleen. Dick's decision to make Damian robin.

when bruce is first rescued by booster gold, he doesn't think much about tim's absence, doesn't think much of anything, really, he was just glad he was home. weeks pass and he's getting to know damian, reconnecting with dick, (and attempting to reconnect) with jason...

he'd probably be sitting at lunch, mid-bite, when all of a sudden, Someone is missing. obviously, damian is at school and dick has his life in bludhaven and jason wouldn't step within a thousand meters of the manor on a good day, so it takes him a few seconds

because it wasn't missing as in he's not present, currently, right now, in this house, missing as in

where did he go?

he hadn't seen tim in...months. when was the last time he'd seen him? probably the watchtower right after booster gold had dropped him off. he hadn't even actually seen the boy. just heard he had found him...

how Had tim found him? how had tim been able to when everyone else thought he was dead? So he makes it his quest to find answers and obviously, he doesn't get it from dick. His eldest clams right up at the topic, refusing to give him a straight answer. the longer it took to find answers, the more antsy he was. what had happened while he was gone?

where was tim? where had he been? so he asks alfred, to which the butler replies with vague, utterly unhelpful answers (he had a feeling that the butler truly, did not know either, and was also at a loss as to where timothy drake had been)

i feel like bruce would be the type to either obsess over it or try to ignore his gut feeling that Something Is Wrong by burying himself under case upon case upon case. then one day, he sees it:

it was obviously meant to be something he'd never find, encased behind password upon password, firewall upon firewall, and when he does break through what he thought had been a rather odd file given all the protection and layers, his heart drops

file after file, report after report, all written by and for one person and one person only: tim. timothy, oh, his son.

fingers pressed to his lips, only dim blue light of the batcomputer, he reads, and reads, and reads

it doesn't end. just when he thinks it's finally done, he stumbles upon the splenectomy

he can't help but shudder a soft sob when he's finished, silently crying into his hands because had he even thanked tim? had he even done anything more than glance at the boy that had sacrificed...everything to find him?

p2 soon bc i have to go!

#batfam #ao3 #bruce lost in the timestream #tim drake #tim drake angst #sad hours #Bruce is trying his Best

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polliwoggers · 1 year

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been struggling to draw lately so i went through some older stuff of mine and found this, only to realize i never posted it. i don't imagine anybody's still doing stuff for this weird social media-clan au thingy anymore, now that the meme of it has died down, but anybody's free to these names for whatever uses they want, if they want them :)

bonus lore to get it out of my head:

Yarrow-whisker was the previous medic before Quarrypaw, who has yet to gain their full status as a medicine cat in their absence

Geckopaw and Prairiepaw are siblings. Yewtail is only a so-so mentor at the best of times, so Foxfire effectively mentors them both. However, Prairiepaw has swooped in to support Yewtail when they decide to do something stupid and unsustainable on multiple occasions. they really shouldn't have been granted an apprentice tbh. i recently re-read Fire and Ice in the original warriors series so the parallels to Graystripe being a poor mentor to Brackenpaw are intentional

Skypelt came out of retirement to mentor Duskpaw, since they serve such similar real-life purposes. Skypelt doesn't understand everything their apprentice says or does but is generally supportive of such a similar application

Marsh-singer, Whitestep, and Thymeface are all siblings, and are collectively the youngest of the warriors (not accurate to the actual ages of the applications, but eh). to say they are all total gossips would be an understatement. they're also really interchangeable and forgettable. like the Runningwinds of apps.

depending on how positively you want to view the whole "reincarnation" trope some of the canon warriors books have, you could say that Tickpaw is a reincarnation of Musiclight. Otherwise, they just look really similar.

all of the "Cats Outside of Clans" cats are kittypets, with the notable exception of Furzebark, who is a banished rogue with a concerning amount of influence on the Clan(s?). maybe there's a whole band of rogues who are based on insidiously/surprisingly influential applications or online entities! various appstore/playsotre applications could fall under this category, as well as like. roblox, apparently. which is beyond weird to me since that's a game and not a wider application, but it got scarily profitable during lockdown, so...

Redpaw was Yewtail's sibling, but died during their apprenticeship. Probably to the same thing that killed Gravelpounce, but i have no idea what that would be

Flaxflower is generally considered WAY too old to still be alive (since the real internet explorer died a bit ago by now), but since he'd "find a way to be late to his own funeral", he has yet to kick the bucket.

the whole twittypet drama is EASILY the juiciest gossip the clan has had in ages, ESPECIALLY the half-clan checkmark-kits. in-universe, im interpreting the poor management of twitter that's been driving it into the ground irl as a negligent cat owner unintentionally driving their pet to spend more time outdoors with other cats (namely, dashclaw) to get away from them, which resulted in kittens. drummed-up anti-kittypet sentiment aside, many clan cats looking in on the situation just feel bad for her.

Vinewatcher is the most consistently "present" of the StarClan spirits, but is also the most consistently unhelpful. numerous potential prophecies later turned out to just be inside jokes of theirs they decided to continue rehashing into the afterlife. Quarrypaw, having not gotten much experience identifying what makes a legitimate prophecy yet, finds this exceptionally annoying behavior, and would like them to stop. They do not.

#my drawings #tumblrclan #twittypet #warrior cats #warriors #this got way longer than intended oops

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wndaswife · 2 years

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Hey, can you do a stepmom Wanda fanfic with innocent reader or professor Wanda and bimbo reader. You don’t have to if you feel uncomfortable.

wanda maximoff x fem!reader

tags: smut, drugging, manipulation, somnophilia, hair pulling, face slapping, cunnilingus, dubcon, mommy kink, dollification, degradation, praise, aftercare, dom!professor!wanda, sub!bimbo!reader. MINORS DNI.

word count: 1959

a/n: prof wanda n bimbo reader was such a good idea

You asked your professor for help with your final assignment essay, the rubric in your hands as you approached her desk during her office hours. Your TA was unhelpful, giving passive aggressive advice at most whenever you contacted them for assistance, and as the deadline for your essay began looming over you dangerously close, you were scrambling for help, and you’d do anything to get it.

Your class didn’t have a final exam, but rather a huge research project that you should’ve been working on within the last month, but you weren’t. You hadn’t even opened up the rubric until last week.

Professor Maximoff was passionate about what she taught, and she had always been so sweet to you, so over the last few months, you had tried your best to attend her lectures, even if only to scroll through social media aimlessly the entire time.

Not knowing whether or not your professor would help you out in the eleventh hour was something that settled heavily in your stomach while you walked across campus to her office.

But Wanda was as helpful and saccharine sweet as she always had been. She looked up at you from her desk with an excited smile when you entered her office. When she asked to take you out for coffee, you initially agreed to her offer because you needed help, although you also found yourself excited to spend time with her. The dark glints in her green eyes as you turned to leave her office with her was lost on you.

The line at the cafe the two of you went to was long, so Wanda lined up for you while you sat at one of the tables reading over your essay rubric. After several minutes, Wanda approached you with your iced coffee in hand and her latte in the other. You never questioned why you had accepted her offer so easily. You were at one of Wanda’s favourite cafes in the city, sitting beside her at a table while her hand was placed on your thigh.

Wanda complimented your pretty smiles and carefree attitude. You let her squeeze your thigh under the table and she complimented your pretty eyes. You talked little about the essay you had originally gone to her to discuss.

“So, professor, I was-”

Wanda’s fingers moved forward, snaking around your inner thigh and making you freeze. “Please, darling, it’s Wanda,” she corrected with a sweet smile.

Despite her proximity that anyone else might call unprofessional, you couldn’t help but give into her advances, letting your professor touch you the way she wanted to. She had even asked you whether or not you had a boyfriend, and like the naive girl you were, you simply drank your iced coffee happily while you discussed everything from a lack of a boyfriend to a disinterest in having one.

“O-Okay,” you hesitated before smiling, your nervousness quickly being overtaken by joy at being so close to your university’s nicest, and prettiest, professor. “Wanda, I was just wondering if we could talk about my assignment a little, if you wanted to.”

With her hand on your upper arm, Wanda replied, “Of course we can, sweetheart. I’ll just drive us back to school and we can go through it there. Does that sound good to you?” You nodded with a happy smile, and Wanda’s hand ran down your arm supportively as she picked up her things. She wrapped an arm around your hips and you walked out with her as if you were a child who couldn’t have found their way out of the cafe on your own without her help. And that wasn’t entirely false.

The soft hum of Wanda’s car as she drove, the warm scent of her enveloping you as you sat in her passenger’s seat, lulled you to sleep. You felt guilty for it, as Wanda had only just extended her hand out to help you, and you were taking advantage of her by nearly falling asleep in her car, but overwhelming fatigue had suddenly come over you.

You sipped at your cold drink periodically to keep you awake, but it had only seemed to worsen the warm sleepy feeling that spread through your body.

Wanda’s hand was placed on your leg as she drove, running her hand up and down your thigh soothingly. You fell asleep within the next two minutes.

Waking up wasn’t so much of a challenge as it was confusing. Your mind was a complete blur, your surroundings dark and unfamiliar. You knew that you weren’t in Wanda’s car anymore, at least. Had you forgotten the entire day? As you groaned and tried to find your hands, your body twisted to the side, only to be held back up again by your hip.

Something soft laid atop you, flush against your chest and stomach, and you heard mumbling in your ear. Your head recoiled from the sudden intrusion, but a hand was harshly brought to the side of your head, pulling you against someone’s face.

“You’re a sweet girl, Y/N,” you made out. The lips of whoever was speaking was pressed against your ear, their breath warm as it blew down your neck. “So sweet to me.”

The scent of them made you hum with a smile, pleased at the praise. You felt them grin against your ear. It was only when they began grunting softly against the side of your head that you put together what they were doing.

With one of their hands holding your hip, the other held your wrists up above your head, preventing you from moving out from underneath them. Your ass was exposed, your skirt hiked up to your waist and your panties pulled to the side.

Then, the walls of a room came into focus, then a headboard. A bedroom that wasn’t yours.

The familiar shade of your professor’s dark brown hair flashed in front of your eyes, swaying in time with the soft jerks behind you.

You heard yourself moaning, the rhythmic noise soothing your throat.

With a hand wrapped around your chin, your face was refocused upwards. You were met with your professor looking down on you with a small smile, her eyebrows furrowed together. What was she doing on top of you?

Your eyes travelled down her body. She wasn’t wearing a jacket anymore. Her turtleneck’s sleeves were pushed up her arms. Her slacks… had gone too.

Her hips were thrusting down against yours. Your eyes widened when a thick glistening strap was pulled from your hole, sticky white ropes connecting her cock and your pussy, before she thrusted back into your sopping hole with force.

A hard slap came across your face and your hair was pulled into Wanda’s fist to make you look back up at her again.

“Pay attention to me,” she spat, her expression suddenly cold and stern.

You squinted, your cheek stinging as your professor’s features became clearer. “W… Wanda?” you stuttered out hesitantly.

Her expression relaxed and she let go of your hair, petting your head softly. “That’s right,” she cooed.

“What’s happening?” you asked, tears forming in your eyes at the sheer confusion that had come over you. You felt so dumb and small.

“Nothing you need to worry about, dear,” Wanda reassured, slightly breathless. “Nothing your stupid little brain could understand even if I tried to explain it to you.” Her words should’ve stung, should’ve made you cry harder, but you simply sniffled and nodded at the soft coo of her degradation.

Her head was thrown back as your hips bucked upward into her instinctively, making the harness of her strap make harsh contact with her clit.

Wanda’s hand slipped between your stomach and hers and she looked down at you again. Her fingers were pushed through your folds. She parted them, letting you hear how they parted stickily. “Your tight little cunt is taking my dick so well,” she said.

You flushed at the praise though you felt dirty for it.

Her hand slipped out from between the two of you and her palm was stuck across your face again without warning. You whimpered, writhing beneath her.

“Mommy… please stop,” you begged tearily, the harsh pain making your cheek sting. “You’re hurting me.”

Wanda took your chin again. “You think that’s something to be proud of, puppy?” she asked. “That filthy little pussy is nothing to be proud of. You’re such a braindead fucking slut.” She spat at your face and you recoiled. “You don’t deserve mommy’s cock.”

She moved to slip off of you, but your arms raised and wrapped around her waist. “No, mommy, I’m sorry!” you cried, tears spilling down your reddened cheeks. “I’m so sorry, mommy. I want your cock. I feel so icky. Please help.”

Your professor leaned back down against you. “Don’t cry, baby,” she hushed. She kissed your tear-stained cheeks. “You want my help?”

You nodded.

You flinched at the raising of Wanda’s hand, but it came down to cup your cheek instead, her thumb rubbing her saliva into your skin.

“That’s a good girl,” she said. You whimpered at the praise, suddenly feeling the need to cry even at that. “You’re just mommy’s sweet little cockwhore, hm?” Wanda asked, kissing your forehead. “You like getting your tight little pussy fucked by mommy’s big cock?”

You closed your eyes and nodded again “Yes, mommy,” you answered obediently.

All of your classes were missed that day, but you spent not even a moment thinking about them. Wanda fucked your tight pussy all day until you’re too fucked out and dumb to protest to any of her advances. At one point, you got on your knees while she fucked your throat until you were crying. She spanked your pussy until it was puffy and red.

All the while, you mumbled out how happy you were to be mommy’s little fuckhole. You were so happy to be her little girl, so happy to have her cock fucking your tight cunt.

When Wanda eventually unfastened her strap, she gave you a shower, holding your abused little body up while she washed your hair. She dried you up with a towel after having you sit up on the washroom counter. She rubbed lotion onto you, massaging your sore body comfortingly, then dressed you up like her little doll, all cute and sleepy in her soft clothes. With a kiss on your forehead, Wanda tucked you in under her blankets.

You fell asleep in her bed dreaming of her pretty green eyes while she gave you full marks on your unfinished assignment online. Afterwards, she made you dinner- hot soup and baked bread. She woke you up, peppering your face with soft kisses. With your arms wrapped around her waist dependently, Wanda led you downstairs to the kitchen.

You were just as happy to have dinner with Wanda as you were at the cafe earlier, swinging your legs in your seat and blabbering off joyfully about miscellaneous topics.

Once cuddled upstairs in bed with her, Wanda led you down between her thighs, gripping your head between both hands as she guided you through eating her out.

“Faster, whore,” Wanda commanded. Her grip on your hair tightened, her nails running down your scalp. “Eat my pussy out just like that.” She came into your mouth and pulled you back up to run her tongue up your coated cheeks.

With you pulled against her chest covered in blankets and embraced tightly in Wanda’s arms, you fell asleep once more, not having questioned for a moment being at your professor’s place being cared for like her sweet doll.

Perhaps that was why Wanda took you home to begin with, and why you fell asleep nuzzling your face into her breasts.

#wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x y/n #wanda x reader #marvel smut #wanda maximoff fanfiction #marvel fanfiction #requested fic #mommy wanda maximoff

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xenodogartz · 4 months

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was inspired by this post to design some hlvrai warrior cats!! i'm honestly shocked it took me 2 years to make a warriors au for it, i love making warriors aus...

some basic info below the cut!

sooo my general idea (it's pretty hazy right now. forgive me) for this au is that songfoot (benrey), nectarbrook (darnold), goldenberry (tommy), galeheart (coomer), scorchtail (bubby), and snakestar (gman) are all from the same clan... i'm between plain ol' thunderclan or a custom clan called mesaclan. i'm probably gonna go with thunderclan because i don't wanna bother with making other clans and lore and stuff LOL. there's some kind of threat outside of the clans that's affecting the environment a la the beavers in arc 4. it's something that starclan definitely caused, whether deliberately or accidentally, i dunno. main point is that snakestar sends songfoot, nectarbrook, goldenberry, galeheart, and scorchtail off on a journey to track down the problem and take care of it. while they're gone, the external threat kills snakestar and he spends all his time being a textbook unhelpful and cryptic starclan cat who just kind of makes things worse. as per a snakestar prophecy, the gang picks up gordon along the way, a kittypet whose owners abandoned her and she's been mostly unsuccessfully fending for herself since. oh and frostpaw (forzen) is part of bloodclan. bloodclan tries and fails to kill the gang, despite frostpaw's best efforts (he kidnapped goldenberry's bird friend, sunny).

some lil character facts and such:

gordon is an ex kittypet. she had a very very cozy and spoiled life up until her twolegs got evicted or something and tossed her out onto the streets. she wasn't out there long before the clan cats found her, and thank god for that, because she sucks at being a survivalist. she is fairly smart though, bringing a fresh perspective and problem solving skills to the group. she is consistently freaked the fuck out by clan cat culture, and the clan cats have fun gaslighting her about it. the only cat who doesn't play along with that is goldenberry, mostly because he doesn't really think its that funny. gordon picks up survival skills from the clan cats fairly quickly, but they still call her soft all the time. classic clan cat anti-kittypet prejudice.

songfoot is the warrior code's biggest fan. not because he really fully believes in its utility, mostly because he loves bossing people around. you can find him stalking around thunderclan camp looking out for anyone doing minor infractions. god forbid you take too much fresh kill from the pile, you'll never hear the end of it. he can't really do much about it though, because snakestar finds him vaguely offputting. his signature stare doesn't help much. his fellow warriors generally like him despite all his strange quirks. songfoot has some kind of starclan-given power a la The Three... my thought is that his vocalizations have supernatural mind-altering properties. it's kinda like sweet voice, but a hiss can make others mad, a purr can make others calm, a screech can stun them, etc. without fail. he's vaguely aware of this power, and he doesn't really use it for things starclan would like him to. he kinda does his own thing.

he's a fairly competent hunter and fighter, but he's generally physically non-confrontational. during battle, he prefers to slink along in the shadows and wait to strike.

during the journey, he loves following gordon along. initially it's because of his deeply embedded distrust of kittypets, but he realizes pretty quickly that he's interested in her in a different sense, one that really frustrates and confuses him... a warrior shouldn't wanna be mates with a kittypet. that's so beyond wrong. he's gotta do everything he can to annoy gordon into leaving the group so he doesn't have to confront his feelings about her (one of these tactics involves him insisting on calling her "gordie," saying it sounds much more suitable for a kittypet). unfortunately for the both of them, that doesn't work. what's worse-- his powers don't seem to work on her for whatever reason. they continue to butt heads for far too long before either of them opens up about how they actually feel. (it takes gordon far longer to admit to herself that she's feeling that way than it does for songfoot, but eventually it clicks for her.)

("song" comes from sweet voice, and "foot" comes from... y'know. but i imagine the in-universe explanation is that he spends a lot of time padding around and watching people. the name from the post that inspired this one-- sweetsong-- is perfect but i didn't wanna copy it. i really like the name songfoot though, i think it's really cute.)

nectarbrook is thunderclan's beloved medicine cat. sweet and silly, she has an affinity for collecting and mixing herbs to create new tinctures. they don't always work exactly how she wants them to, but they never have strictly negative effects, so... not too bad! she spends most of her time on the journey trying and failing to be a mediator, and cowering in fear while everyone else does the scary (and often stupid) work. she's got an intelligence to rival gordon's, and she's one of the only cats gordon fully gets along with.

("nectar" is about the closest warrior cats prefix to "soda," and "brook" just kinda sounds nice as a suffix to nectar. it's another liquid-related word too.)

frostpaw is a bloodclan apprentice. he's well beyond apprentice age, but he's pretty incompetent at warrior duties and such, so it's taking him a while. he just wants to graduate.

i imagine he used to be a cushy kittypet with dreams of being one of those cool cat gang members he sees outside every now and again. he's way in over his head.

("frost" comes from forzen. obviously. i initially envisioned him as a warrior named frostjaw. i don't know why i chose that suffix other than it sounding nice. but then i remembered the "i just wanna graduate" thing, and thought it would be funny to make him an apprentice.)

goldenberry is a highly skilled warrior and one of snakestar's kits. he has a very unassuming demeanor, often appearing clumsy or head-in-the-clouds, but he's one of thunderclan's most precise and deadly fighters. his long windclan-like limbs allow for quick movement. like his father, he strikes like a snake. despite his prowess, he doesn't like fighting at all, and he would much rather hang around camp with his friend songfoot and take care of menial tasks like an apprentice or test out new herb tinctures for nectarbrook. he's very helpful and kind, if not a bit blunt. before snakestar died, he had goldenberry in mind as the next deputy as soon as galeheart finally kicked the bucket. he only didn't make him the deputy in the first place because he was an apprentice at the time.

("golden" comes from tommy's signature yellow, as well as his father's perception of him as highly important. "berry" comes from his general sillyness and his affinity for nectarbrook's various little treats.)

galeheart is a gregarious senior warrior and thunderclan's beloved deputy. despite his small stature, he's incredibly strong and overzealous. he loves his clan to death and he loves fighting even more, often dragging everyone into unnecessary squabbles just for the thrill of it. his loud, booming voice commands everyone's attention. he's quite old and really should be in the elders' den at this point, but his love for the warrior life keeps him going despite it all, and he's still in great shape. snakestar isn't quite so satisfied with galeheart's behavior, but there's not much he can do about that, given everyone else loves galeheart to bits. snakestar partially send him on that journey in hopes he would die already, but he has an unwavering spirit and he can and will outlive snakestar.

galeheart and gordon get along for the most part, but gordon is a little scared of him.

("gale" comes from coomer's general energy. he is a strong gust of wind to me. it also brings to mind the color white, which... is what galeheart is! "heart" also comes from his Vibes, mostly his fighting spirit.)

scorchtail is yet another old coot who should be getting ticks picked off of him by apprentices, but his stubbornness keeps him in his warrior position. he's not even particularly good at being a warrior-- he's cowardly and his battle strategy can best be described as the real life version of button-mashing. still, he's far too prideful to retire to the elders' den. he tends to follow galeheart around, since they grew up together and share similar positions in the clan. he's very antagonistic towards gordon, even moreso than songfoot. he has a special hatred of kittypets, seeing their lifestyle as an embarrassment.

("scorch" comes from bubby's association with fire as well as his sassy disposition, and "tail" comes from the tip of his tail looking burnt.)

snakestar is a starclan cat who was previously thunderclan's leader. he's generally cold and and analytical, and not much of a fighter, preferring to make others do his bidding. this behavior carried over very well to starclan, where he spends all his time being appropriately cryptic and unhelpful. he holds a lot of love for his one son, goldenberry, who he's always watching over. he doesn't care much for his other previous clanmates. he visits gordon in her dreams often to tell her vague things about her "part to play" and how important she is and all that. he arbitrarily decided that she was the subject of a prophecy, for the most part. i like to think starclan just makes shit up for fun. i think maybe one of his ancestors visited gordon when she was a kitten and made some kind of deal with her. i dunno. i'm in the very early stages of this au.

("snake" comes from gman's general vibes, but it's also an allusion to snakes in mythology [particularly abrahamic myth] being sleazy dealmakers with ill intent. before he was a leader, his suffix was "sight," alluding to his tendency to sit back and watch rather than run into battle.)

thanks for reading my long-ass ramblings, if you did! :-P idk if i'll actually do anything with any of this, but it's fun to think about...

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chimchiri · 7 months

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Poll Adventure: Rarijack Dinner

Index | [prev] - Part 05 - [next] Special thanks to @babydarkstar for putting out the great writing!

Previous Poll:

~~~

Sunlight filters through the leaves as Applejack sits up from her place under the apple tree. Winona, who had her fluffy head resting on AJ’s chest, gives a thoughtful sniff as she gazes up at her owner, pushing up to sit on her hind legs.

AJ meets Winona’s curious gaze with a worried look of her own.

“What am I gonna do, girl?” she sighs, “Got myself wrapped up in all sorts’a trouble now.”

Winona turns her head to survey the expanse of apple trees surrounding them before giving AJ a side-eyed glance and a withered sneeze, as if that should solve every problem she’s got.

AJ smiles wearily and scratches behind the dog’s ears, patting her soft head before tugging again on a fluffy ear, lost in thought.

Asking family is out of the question at this point. Everybody’s got chores, and talking to them would only mean more work for her or Big Mac. Lord knows what kinda fuss they’d make about it if she tells them too soon. After her chores, she needs to do as much as she can to make tomorrow easier, and finish gathering her thoughts on the date, as well as getting anything she needs for it. Tomorrow she’ll have to finish up whatever work she started, get ready for the date, and leave. She’ll tell family later, but right now she can’t deal with that extra stress.

One of her friends would be better for today. Maybe she’ll ask for help and won’t even need to say Rarity’s name…she can only hope. The absolute riot that would result would be too much to handle. And besides, she wants to keep it quiet in case things don’t work out.

There are two questions lingering in her mind.

She’s lost on what to wear. With all the time she’s spent around Rarity, one would think she’d know exactly what to wear to impress her. But honestly, she thinks about the complexities of fashion about as much as she thinks about men—which is to say, hardly at all. If she didn’t have Rarity’s voice in the back of her mind gasping about formalwear and Manehattan social status, she’d wear the nicest pieces in her closet and call it a day. Ultimately, she knows Rarity will appreciate any effort she makes for their date, but AJ wants to impress her.

Then there’s the gift. The Element of Generosity deserves something meaningful and special, and AJ knows she’ll appreciate it.

That should be all…but maybe she could ask her friends for general advice as well. After all, AJ’s never felt more serious about a date in her life.

Each of her friends have their strengths and weaknesses, and all have the ability to offer advice. But which one should she ask?

Naturally, Rainbow Dash is the first to come to mind. They’ve always had each other’s backs, always pushed one another to be better at everything, striving to be the best. Bickering and teasing is their love language, no matter how relentless. But. With all that spunk and chaos in such a tiny figure, AJ’s pretty sure Rainbow would explode if she had to keep AJ’s date a secret. She also wouldn’t dare miss an opportunity to tease AJ about finally getting over herself to make a move with Rarity. But underneath her mischievous demeanor, she cares for AJ a whole heap; she’d help out however she can. AJ just isn’t sure what Rainbow’s advice for a romantic date would look like. It could easily be an hour of intermittent hysterical laughter, followed by the most unhelpful string of words she’s ever heard. “Just like, be yourself, dude. Roll with the punches. Seriously.” Or it could be wildly profound, incredibly insightful information—Rainbow’s personality is harlequin, unpredictable at times.

Fluttershy, however, is the complete opposite. Timid and quiet, sure, but she’s got the natural elegance and poise that could be helpful in this situation. As a friend, she’s a good listener and would take AJ’s worries to heart. Even if she found out AJ’s date is with Rarity, she would definitely keep the secret (maybe a few animals would hear the news, but that wouldn’t bother AJ). If AJ remembers right, Fluttershy has a bit of fashion experience…that could help a lot. However, she worries that the visit might take longer than it should—Fluttershy isn’t known to be decisive, and AJ definitely needs some cold hard advice.

Then there’s Twilight. AJ has never actually heard Twi talk about anything romantic, so she’s clueless if she has experience. But—Twi has an analytical predisposition to any situation, and could give AJ exactly the kind of information she needs. She would without a doubt take AJ’s questions seriously. With all that knowledge swarming her head, she’d likely go so far as to calculate all the pros and cons about every possible scenario and decision, and recommend what would fit best, accounting for factors like windchill and commute time while she’s at it. Spreadsheet, chalkboard, slide presentation, the whole shebang. And, like herself, Twilight appreciates tradition and routine, and probably knows what AJ would like as well. The only thing AJ worries about is Twilight focusing too much on little details and ending up not helping her at all, leaving her back at square one after taking the long way…

Finally, AJ considers Pinkie. Admittedly, she’s…not AJ’s first choice. “Silly” is her middle name, along with “goofy” and “rambunctious.” It’s not always easy to drag Pinkie down from the cotton candy castle she mentally resides in. Her whimsy is endearing and can always pull AJ out of a sour mood, but is that something she has time for right now? Surprise confetti from the Party Cannon is not the vibe she wants to bring to this date. But maybe AJ isn’t giving Pinks enough credit. From what she knows of her and her sister Maud, they prioritize each other to the fullest extent, and there’s nothing ridiculous about a friendship between sisters. Pinkie has an entire basement full of data on what each of her friends and family and neighbors likes, just so she can make them smile on their special day. Maybe a lighter mood won’t hurt, since she’s been such a worrywart lately about everything. But besides brightening her day, could Pinkie give sound advice about what to wear and how to impress Rarity.

AJ can’t decide, but she’ll have to.

Maybe she should start walking to town and talk to whoever she runs into first.

Maybe she needs to listen to her gut. It hasn’t failed her yet.

---

Tag List: @mrrrpmeow @babydarkstar @butwerebothmares @chaosdraconequus @chrysaliswife @gaywombat @mulan-but-gay @jubjub05 @dan-chan-rn @sanybaby @horserepository @justletmesnarkandbark @colourswirlcannibal

#polls #poll adventure: rarijack dinner #rarijack #applejack #mlp #my art #rainbow dash #fluttershy #twilight sparkle #pinkie pie #another short one with a probably obvious poll :)#But I'm curious who people will choose

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melliejellybellybean · 15 days

Text

It's a Tradition, Right?

Wrecker/Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Warnings: none really? does accidentally written miscommunication need a warning???

Food is the way to a man like Wrecker's heart. When his favorite Pabu resident surprises him with his favorite snack after a mission, he just can't help but confess to her. But is it really the picture perfect confession he imagined?

I am back! Once again participating in an amazing @cloneficgiftexchange organized by @ghostofskywalker.

This particular fic is written for @hunterscyarika with the prompts, "I'm falling in love with you" and "You're always on my mind." I really hope you love it! Wrecker was, surprisingly, the hardest clone I've written for so far, and I really hope I did him justice. Without further ado, I present to you: Wrecker's Guide on How to NOT Confess to Someone.

Well, if you squint your eyes and tilt your head, maybe it does look like the holo Omega showed you. The colors are a little off, and you lost count when you were measuring out the sugar, but that’s not what really matters. As long as it tastes like Omega and Wrecker’s beloved mantell mix. As long as you get to see one of Wrecker’s brilliant smiles when he tries it.

Pabu was one of the most special places in the galaxy. A paradise comprised of so many people from so many systems and cultures coming together in a perfect blend of peace and harmony. Even when tragedy strikes, like the sea surge a year ago, it provides an opportunity for the community to grow closer as a unit. It also provided you with an opportunity to meet the group of clones that called themselves the Bad Batch.

You volunteered to help distribute blankets and other emergency supplies immediately following the surge, and your curiosity about the newcomers led you to approach the two little girls and one much larger man who fell asleep against the trunk of a large tree. You first placed a blanket around the two girls, then turned to the man and stopped short. He was gorgeous. Everything about his physique showcased the dangerous weapon that he was designed to be, but the way he laid there, entirely open and vulnerable, made you think there was so much more below the surface for him. He must’ve sensed your stare because he shifted and opened his eyes a bit, startling you out of your trance. You quickly tossed two blankets on him, only hesitating once before tossing one more for good measure and hastily walked off to hand out more blankets.

You were perfectly content to leave your interactions with the clone and his sister at that, with you hopelessly pining from a distance while he was blissfully unaware of your existence. That plan lasted for about 12 hours, when the very next morning, the two clones waltzed right back into your life to help you distribute supplies. The girl cheerfully introduced herself as Omega and her brother as Wrecker while he effortlessly swooped up the box of rations that you had been struggling with just a minute before. The pair bonded quickly with you, and before long you found yourself thinking of them as your closest friends on Pabu.

The time you spent with Wrecker did nothing to help your crush on him, and the time you spent apart helped even less. So, while the Batch was out with Phee on another adventure of liberating ancient wonders, you were stuck replaying your last interaction with Omega and Wrecker in your head.

“It was a tradition on Ord Mantell.” Omega explained, “After every mission, we’d head straight to the mantell mix stand.”

“I would do anything to have one last carton.” Wrecker reminisced.

The spark in his eye was the thing that stuck with you the most. You wanted to see him with that look of pure adoration and happiness again. That desire led you to manically interview anyone you possibly could on Pabu for information about this mantell mix. None of Pabu’s current residents had come from Ord Mantell, and those that had visited it at one time or another were equally unhelpful. Eventually, you grew desperate enough to comm Echo, and after he scolded you for using his hyper encrypted comm channel for something as low priority as a mantell mix recipe, he was able to provide a really good description of the snack. Echo had been to many systems and planets during his time in the 501st, so eventually he was able to relate mantell mix to another type of sweet popped corn that you had eaten.

Once you knew the basic principle of mantell mix, you were able to find ingredients and start attempting to recreate it easily enough. It took an embarrassing amount of batches to have a product that you were semi-happy with, and even now if you had more time, you would likely try it again. But Omega had commed you earlier that day to tell you that they would be arriving back to Pabu in a few hours, so this batch was as best as it would get. The corn wasn’t completely or evenly covered by the syrup, and the slightly grainy texture of the syrup made you think that you may have added too much sugar after you lost count, but a glance at your chrono let you know that you were running out of time. You hurriedly scooped some mantell mix into little cartons that looked somewhat similar to the ones in the holo, it had taken you an entire day to hunt those down, and set off to the top of Pabu’s mountain to wait for their ship to touch down.

Pabu was a small island, and word must have caught that the Batch and Phee would be arriving today because there was already a small crowd forming when you got to the top of the mountain. Excited children were accompanied by their curious parents waited to hear the stories of this latest adventure, while young scholars and old historians gathered to see what ancient treasure Phee had tracked down this time. Once the ship landed, and the landing ramp descended, it seemed as though every person in the crowd was holding their breath. Eventually, Hunter stepped out of the ship, followed by Phee and Tech, then Omega, and finally, Wrecker. Some people in the crowd approached them with their questions about the journey, and many parents had to physically restrain their children from piling onto Wrecker, but you decided to stay put. If this mantell mix thing ended up going south, you’d rather have a smaller crowd of witnesses. You were currently holding the two cartons behind your back, your hands slightly shaking, and taking some deep calming breaths. What if the mantell mix brought back bad memories of Ord Mantell? You had never been able to hear the whole story of how the Batch ended up on Pabu, not that it was your business. What if you get their hopes up and then they’re crushed with disappointment over your attempt at recreating their favorite snack?

But what if it went right? What if the surprise makes Wrecker’s face light up with that beautiful smile that you secretly hoped was only for you? What if he realizes that you’ve been here all along, hoping for the day that he’ll pick you up and twirl you around and-

Your embarrassing daydream is cut off by the sound of someone shouting your name. Looking up, you see a large figure, in gray and yellow armor, coming at you full speed with his arms spread wide for a hug. You come to your bearings, just fast enough to dodge out of the way, worried that his bear hug would crush the two cartons in your hands.

His smile dips in confusion for just a second, but you greet him before he’s able to dwell on your aversion for too long, “Wrecker! How was the trip?”

“Oh, you know, the usual.” Wrecker smirks, “Weird alien thing attacked us, Tech almost crashed, but Phee got her ugly vase, so our record is still perfect!”

You laughed, his carefree attitude helping lift some of your nerves, as always. “Was it a hot desert planet or a swampy humid one this time?”

“Neither! It had these nice grassy hills and mountains, and the weather was perfect.” Wrecker glanced down at you for a second, “I think you’d really like it, we’ll have to go back one day and maybe even have a picnic.”

Your brain short-circuited at the thought of having a picnic in a grassy field with Wrecker, but before you could ask who “we” entailed, exactly, someone shouted “Boo!” and jumped out from behind you.

Starting, you whirled around, “Omega! How long were you standing behind me?!”

“Only for a bit.” Omega answered, in between her laughs, “Wrecker almost gave me away, but I signaled for him to be quiet.”

You turned towards the older clone, a brow raised, but noticed that he hadn’t been listening to your conversation. His eyes were glued to your hands, which were miraculously still holding onto the two cartons.

“Oh.” You backed up so both clones were in front of you and brought your hands out from behind your back, “Um, I remember you guys talking about mantell mix a few weeks ago, and I got really curious about it so… I did a lot of research, and talked to some people, most of which were not helpful, but I guess that’s expected. You would be shocked at how few people there are on Pabu that have been to Ord Mantell, and I think I still owe Echo and Rex an apology. But I think I got it right, or at least I hope so, I’ve never had it, so taste tests were pretty useless, but-” You cut off your rambling, took a deep breath, and held out the cartons, “It’s a tradition, right?”

You were met with silence as five wide-eyed faces stared back at you. Apparently, in your rambling, you hadn’t noticed the two other members of the Bad Batch approach along with Phee. You only had a beat to start regretting all of your life choices, before everything exploded. Omega snatched the cartons out of your hands, thanking you over and over. Hunter sighed and rubbed his face, likely imagining the sugar high Omega he’d need to deal with later, but thanked you as well after seeing how happy she was. Tech began asking question after question about your research methods into Ord Mantell snacking culture and what other planets had similar treats and how they differed from other planets he had researched.

You could hardly keep up with answering the questions and accepting the thanks and giving Hunter apologetic smiles every once in a while, when Phee interceded, “All right, this is exciting, but we do have things we need to finish up. Hunter, didn’t you say something about dropping off those crates by the docks? And Omega, I think Lyana’s been looking for you. I’m going to drop off this vase in the Archium, in case anyone wants to join me.” Hunter and Omega split off to their forgotten tasks. On her way past you, Phee gave you one last sly smirk and a wink before heading off with Tech trailing behind her, his face buried in his datapad.

That left you alone, once again, with Wrecker. You noticed that his mantell mix sat untouched in its carton, and your nerves returned full force. Slowly, he picked up a piece and put it in his mouth. His composure melted, and he looked up at you with a blinding smile. There’s that spark.

He ate two more pieces and hummed in satisfaction. “I’m falling in love with you. This is perfect.”

“Oh thank you.” You answered, before fully registering his first sentence to you. You froze, but he just continued to eat his snack. You blinked, “It took more attempts than I’d like to admit.”

“Do you have leftovers from those? I’ll eat them too.” Wrecker spoke casually, like he hadn’t uttered anything about his feelings for you.

“Um, yeah, a bit.” You desperately tried to keep up with the conversation, even though you were internally screaming. “I can bring some over, if you’d like?”

“That’d be great. Oh! I didn’t even notice,” Your heart stopped as he sheepishly looked up, “I was supposed to help Hunter with those crates, I hope he’s not mad.”

He quickly ate the rest of the mantell mix, then turned to rush off. If he bid you goodbye properly, you didn’t notice. You were too busy lost in your thoughts. The rest of the day went by in a blur. The entire mantell mix fiasco took up most of your mind, and the words “I’m falling in love with you” replayed over and over.

“That’s enough!” You snapped to yourself as you laid in bed that night. “You’re being ridiculous. It just slipped out. It doesn’t mean anything. It changes nothing.” And for the first time, your mind went quiet. Of course. Wrecker was friendly and loud. He’s very loving to everyone. In the heat of the moment, with the shock of the surprise, the words slipped out. He didn’t even notice. It was an accident.

But what if it wasn’t?

Groaning, you rolled over, not knowing how you’d sleep tonight.

…

Wrecker slept great that night.

His dreams were full of sugary mantell mix and beautiful smiles, both of which made him think of you. Not that he was complaining. Thinking of you was his favorite pastime.

“Wrecker, it’s time to go.”

Unfortunately, Wrecker hadn’t had a good chance to see you since he confessed two weeks ago.

“Wrecker, don’t make me say it again.”

Whenever you both happened to be in the same general area, one of you was being rushed off in some direction and the most you could spare was a wave to acknowledge the other’s presence.

“Wrecker! Can you hear me?”

But Wrecker finally had an afternoon free, and no matter how busy you were, he was determined to steal you away, even if only for a moment.

“Wrecker!” Hunter finally burst into Wrecker’s room. “The garden fence isn’t going to fix itself. Stop daydreaming about your girlfriend, get off your shebs, and come help me.”

“Sorry, Hunter.” Wrecker finished putting on his boot and stood to follow Hunter out of the room.

Hunter nodded in satisfaction, starting to turn around. “Wait a minute.” He whirled back to face Wrecker and shoved his chest. Wrecker, caught off guard, fell back to a sitting position on his bed again. “You didn’t correct me.”

“Huh?” Wrecker tried to stand up again, but was only shoved back down.

“You didn’t correct me.” Hunter pulled a chair up and sat on it backwards, his crossed forearms resting on the back. “Every single time I call that girl your girlfriend, you correct me. But not this time. So what did you do?”

Looking towards the doorway, Wrecker attempted to avoid his brother’s squinted gaze, but only met an identical one from Tech, who had heard the commotion and curiously wandered by. “I, uh…” Wrecker brought a hand up to rub the back of his neck. “I told her how I felt.”

He shrugged and tried once more to stand up, but one look at Hunter’s face told him that this conversation was not done.

“And?” Hunter pressed. “What did she say?”

“What do you mean?”

“He wants the details, Wrecker.” Tech sighed from the doorway, where he made himself comfortable leaning on the frame. “How did the conversation go?”

“In exact words.” Hunter ordered.

“Well, it was the day she gave Omega and I the mantell mix. And I told her I was falling in love with her.” A subconscious smile grew on Wrecker’s face as he remembered how enchanting you looked that day, with the sun setting behind you in Pabu’s sky. Then, for Hunter’s benefit, he added. “Oh, and that the mantell mix was perfect.”

Frustrated, Hunter snapped his fingers in front of Wrecker’s face. “What. Did. She. Say?”

“Uh,” Wrecker shook his head, “she said, ‘Thank you’.”

“I don’t care about what she said about the mantell mix!” Hunter snapped.

“Wrecker,” Tech interrupted before Hunter resorted to violence, “What was her response to your confession? Are the two of you romantically involved in a relationship now?”

“Well, yeah! I told her I loved her!”

“Yes, and what did she say?”

“She said, ‘Thank you’!” Now all three brothers were frustrated.

“Okay.” Hunter took a deep breath. “Forget the garden fence, Tech and I can handle it. I think you need to go talk to your girlfriend.”

Tech sputtered some protests about his busy day and the plans he had later that were ruined now, thanks Wrecker, but those were largely ignored.

Wrecker was more than a little confused, but he didn’t need to be told twice to spend time with you. He found you in the market, inspecting some produce from a nearby stall.

You turned when he called your name, and this time, you weren’t quick enough to sidestep his hug. “Good morning, cyare.” He muttered into your ear.

“Hey,” You greeted, “I didn’t expect to see you this morning. I heard something about a garden fence?”

“Nah, Hunter’s got that taken care of.” Wrecker pulled back from the hug to look at you, but he kept his arms firmly wrapped around you.

You both stood there for an awkward second. Wrecker looking at you in contentment and you at him in mild confusion. “Did you… need something?”

“Do I need a reason to come visit my girlfriend?” Wrecker asked.

Your eyes widened. “Your what?”

It was Wrecker’s turn to be mildly confused. “Yeah? Is something wrong?” His grip had loosened enough for you to step out of it.

“I just… I didn’t know…” You shook your head, trying to ignore the feeling of your heart breaking. “I’m happy for you, she must be a lucky girl.”

Wrecker looked at you for a bit before bursting out laughing. “Oh, I get it. You’re messing with me. That’s a good one, really had me going!”

“What are you talking about?” You crossed your arms, “You didn’t tell me you got a girlfriend.”

Wrecker blinked. “But you’re my girlfriend.”

“I’m what?!” You scoffed. “Since when?”

Wrecker’s smile started slowly slipping away, “Since I got back from that mission… for Phee’s ugly vase? Two weeks ago?”

“Were you planning on telling me?” You raised a brow.

“I did! When you gave me the mantell mix!”

The words that have been haunting you for the past two weeks rang through your mind. “I’m falling in love with you.”

Your jaw dropped. “I thought you were joking.”

“Why would I joke about that?” Wrecker asked, shocked.

“Because you joke a lot!” You defended, “Because you didn’t wait for me to respond and you didn’t bring it up again. I thought you weren’t serious.”

“You did respond! I told you I was in love with you and you said-” Wrecker stopped. You said “Thank you” for his compliment to your mantell mix. And then he had to leave to help Hunter. You never did respond to his confession. “Oh…”

He looked at you. Your eyes were glued to the ground, your arms crossed in front of you. Taking a step toward you, lifting your chin so your gaze met his. “I’m so sorry. I was so excited about getting to tell you how I felt that I didn’t even let you answer.”

“It wasn’t your fault.” You stepped towards him this time, “I mean, it was a chaotic day for everyone.”

“Yeah.” Wrecker cleared his throat. “I’m still really sorry about this mix-up. You probably had a lot on your mind that day, and you probably don’t feel the same, so I’ll just be going now.”

You grabbed his hands before he could turn away. “You’re always on my mind.”

This time your confession left Wrecker speechless. So you continued. “I think about you all the time, and when you told me you loved me, I really hoped that you were serious. But then we didn’t see each other and when we did you acted like everything was normal, but I didn’t want it to be normal. I still don’t want it to be normal.”

Then that smile crept onto Wrecker’s face. The one that accompanied that gorgeous spark in his eyes. “So is that an ‘I’m falling in love with you too’? And an ‘I’ll go out with you’?”

“I’m falling in love with you too.” You responded, finally, “And going out with you depends. Will you actually ask me this time?”

“Will you go out with me?” He asked, finally.

“I’d love to.” You leaned in to place a small kiss on his cheek, but Wrecker had other plans. He turned his face, catching your lips with his at the last moment. Neither of you felt particularly motivated to pull back immediately, but when you did, it was accompanied by relieved laughs and loving glances.

…

Omega was getting spoiled. She knew that, at any moment, she could visit your house and you’d have a supply of mantell mix ready for her. She also knew that, at any moment, she could mention visiting you and Wrecker would be more than happy to join her in her sneaking mission. However, she noticed that he never joined her in enjoying the mantell mix spoils, which was unlike him. Whenever she offered him some, he just smiled at you and said, “I’ve already got my prize.”

For Wrecker, eating mantell mix on Ord Mantell gave him something to look forward to. It always meant that the mission was over and he was home with his family. On Pabu, he didn’t need to eat mantell mix to feel at home, he just had to look at you.

Of course, you still greeted him and Omega after missions with a carton of mantell mix, and of course, he ate it then. You made it for him. And it was a tradition, wasn’t it?

#tbbe24 #wrecker x reader #the bad batch #wrecker tbb #a lil tech x phee for the soul #if you squint

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fortheloveoffanfic · 3 months

Text

Prettier When You're Mine

Andy Barber x Reader

Author's Note: Slowly trying to finish a few of these ongoing stories.

Summary: One year into working with a young, bright and beautiful junior prosecutor, Y/n, who bears an almost uncanny resemblance to Andy’s late wife, Laurie, he finds himself developing feelings for her. Though, when she brushes off his advances, Andy proves that he’ll do whatever it takes to recreate his family.

Disclaimer: 18+ This work contains dark themes, including stalking, dub-con, infidelity and manipulation. Read at your own discretion.

Masterlist Playlist Chapter 5

Chapter 6

A trip to Andy's house to reclaim her lost ring causes tension between Y/n and James, and unveils some dark truths. Warning: dubious consent, SMUT/NSFW, coerced/forced sex. Please do not read if you are even remotely uncomfortable with any of these warnings.

Dumping the contents of her bag on the kitchen counter, Y/n hastily sifted through it. Compact, cell phone, a couple pens, a packet of tissues, wallet, loose change and no ring. “Shit, shit, shit,” she swore under her breath, on the verge of tears. It hadn’t been anywhere that she'd looked, not in her office, her coat pocket or even in the damn coffee cup she’d checked on a whim. Calls to the doctor’s office and the bus station as well as a visit to the coffee shop and the place that she’d bought lunch had also been completely unhelpful and Y/n was beginning to fear that the ring was gone for good.

But it couldn’t be, not James’ mother’s ring. Precious family heirloom and the first material sign that she’d been accepted into their fold.

For the millionth time that day, Y/n found herself asking; why me? Was it because she’d almost been willing to let things go too far with Andy? Because part of her wanted them to? Or was it because she’d gotten herself in a self-pitying funk over something she was supposed to have made peace with?

Was it a sign that she simply didn’t deserve a man like James?

Standing in the middle of their loft’s small kitchen, she didn’t feel like she did. Because how could she be deserving of him and still spend rare, private moments fantasizing about her boss- who had proven himself to be just like any other jerk in a position of authority.

In retrospect, she should have seen the signs; his penchant for initiating physical contact, his apparent desire to know her on a personal level, his insistence that they work together. She couldn’t believe she actually thought he just saw potential in her- no strings, no expectations.

“Babe?” Hearing the bathroom door open, Y/n worked quickly to clumsily repack everything into her handbag. She hadn’t told James that she’d lost the ring, and had spent the entire car ride home trying to hide her left hand.

“Yeah?” Y/n’s head snapped up and her frenzied gazed noted James standing near the foot of their bed, wrapped only on a towel, with his skin still damp and his hair dripping. “What?” Then, hearing the haste in her tone, she cleared her throat and tried again, “I mean….what’s up?”

James’ lips fell again and he stuttered before continuing, “I was just gonna ask if you wanted to get Chinese,” he padded barefoot across the wood floor, “But I think I can ask you the same question.”

“If I wanna get Chinese….?”

“What’s up?” He quoted with emphasis, “Or better way; are you okay?”

Sneaking a cautionary glance at her hand, Y/n dropped it at her side and didn’t dare make a move towards James. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

Not believing her for a second, James shook his head and made the final steps towards her, rounding the kitchen counter so he could lay his wet hands on her shoulders, “No you’re not." He searched her teary eyes, worry pooling in his, “Did something happen at the doctor's?”

Sniffling as slow tears trickled down her cheeks, “I’ve just had a really rough day,” her voice broke pitifully and James didn’t miss another beat before pulling her against his chest. One hand cradled the back of her head while the other fell to the small off her back, and as she clung to his waist, she finally let a couple sobs break through.

"Do you want to tell me what happened?" He probed gently.

How was she supposed to tell him that she was irrationally insecure about them never being able to convince? Or that Andy had come onto her in a moment of vulnerability. Or that she'd lost his mother's ring.

"No," she whimpered, "Not yet. I just wanna….I just want to forget the whole thing." Forget that she'd always secretly want something she would never have. Forget that she'd lost a very expensive and precious symbol of their union.

Forget that she was still thinking about what would have happened if she'd been brave enough to give in when Andy had come on to her.

Forget that she was above betraying the man she loved.

“Alright,” James murmured, kissing the crown of her head, “Well we don’t have to until you’re ready,” he added, lips still pressed to her hair. He was so good, so patient and she loved that.

Andy was so brooding and dangerous, she liked that.

Hugging James tighter, Y/n squeezed her eyes shut and tried to regulate her breaths; she didn’t deserve to cry about it when she’d come so close to acting on selfish impulse. They might have stayed like that for a while, if it were for her phone ringing loudly from where it sat on the counter. Sniffling loudly, Y/n pulled away and brushed her tears away with the sides of her fingers, “I should….” Trailing off, she moved towards the phone, sluming her shoulders when she saw Andy’s name on the screen, “Its my boss,” she reported sullenly.

Coming to stand behind her, James rested his hand on her shoulder, “Just let it go to voicemail.”

Y/n sighed, “Its not that easy.”

“You don’t owe him anything,” James reminded before letting go of a heavy breath and reluctantly adding, “But if you feel like you need to then, I can’t stop you.”

As James retracted his hand and started walking away, Y/n looked at Andy’s name on the screen and frowned as she glanced back up at her fiancee, “Don’t be mad, please.”

“Not mad,” he said, not looking at her as he tugged one of his drawers open, pulling out a pair of sweatpants, “Just….I’m worried about you, okay? This guy keeps you at the office at these weird hours and then today you come home crying.”

“What happened today has nothing to do with, Andy,” she lied, “He…he tried to help-”

“So you told him what was wrong but you didn’t tell me?” James knitted his brows, stepping behind the bamboo privacy screen that they kept near their wardrobe to get changed.

By then her phone had stopped ringing and the screen had faded to black, “That’s not….I didn’t tell him. I was really vague about it-”

“Yeah, well all I got was you had a rough day,” stepping out from behind the screen in low riding sweats and a t-shirt, James moved to hang his towel on a rack they kept next to the bathroom door.

“I…its complicated,” just then, her phone started ringing again, the urgency evident in the blaring tone, “I really have to take this,” Y/n snatched her phone off the counter and swiped the green icon. “Hey, what’s up?” Y/n answered cooly, defiantly matching eyes with James, whose gaze had hardened.

“I have something that I think belongs to you.”

Knitting her brows, Y/n stuttered, “What?”

“Three carats-”

“You have it,” Y/n gasped; she must have lost it in the haste to vacate his office, everything had been so jumbled and messy, from her feelings at the time to the physical situation.

“Yeah. Why don’t you come by and get it?”

Turning away so her back would be to James, Y/n drew in what she hoped would be a calming breath, “You’ve had it all day and said nothing?” She hissed as quietly as possible.

“Well, let’s not get accusatory.”

“God,” Y/n suspired, “Are you at the office?”

“Of course not,” Andy sounded amused by the whole situation, like he was baiting her, and it made Y/n’s blood boil. “You should come get it, tonight. Wouldn’t want James to think you’re trying to seem like an available woman.”

Exasperated, Y/n sighed, “Yeah, well, I don’t know where you live.”

“I’ll send you the address now,” she heard the phone moving on his end of the line and then less than a minute later, her phone pinged with an incoming text. “See you soon, sweetheart.”

There was that name again, that involuntary thrill up her spine.

Without another word, Y/n hung up and turned to James who was looking at her expectantly. “I have to go, some stuff came up late in discovery and its a lot so we’d have to start going through tonight to finish in time for Thursday.”

She wasn’t sure if James believed her, but he did play along, “Alright, well you should take the car,” he suggested and she was grateful that he didn’t offer to drive her.

“Yeah,” he nodded, approaching her once more, that time grabbing the keys off the coffee table and pressing it into her hands from over the counter, “Go do your job, we’ll talk when you get back.”

Leaning over, Y/n smiled tightly and reached to cup his cheek with her free hand, “I love you,” she kissed him briefly, hoping to chisel away some of the lingering tension.

James hummed softly, “Yeah, I know, I love you too.” When they broke, she grabbed her bag and coat quickly and hurried out of the apartment, letting a slow breath vacate her lips when she pulled the door shut behind herself; caught between being excited to see Andy again and combating worry over what would happen when they did.

Stuffing the hand with the car keys into the pocket of her camel coat, Y/n inhaled deeply before bringing her fist to Andy’s front door. His house was nice, it was one of the first thoughts she had upon pulling up at the curb; it was kind of like the one she had in her mind when she thought about the perfect place to live; big enough to comfortably raise a family with a gable roof and big windows that made you wonder what was happening inside. It looked like something out of HGTV or one of those home and garden magazines- sweet and picturesque.

“You came,” Andy determined when the door swung open. He was still half dressed from work; sleeves of his navy shirt rolled up to his elbows, black and blue tie from earlier gone and top two buttons of his shirt open.

“Yeah,” she squared her shoulders and straightened her back, “Well I want my ring.”

Andy smirked and Y/n ground her teeth, “Its upstairs, come in and I’ll get it for you.” Y/n couldn’t tell if it was an invitation or condition but Andy didn’t leave room for explanation, instead leaving her to follow him as he turned and delved further into the house.

The hall light was off, making the glow emanating from the kitchen up ahead to seem dim and ominous. Their shadows seemed bigger and in even in the low lighting Y/n could make out some of the framed photographs on the wall and she slowed down to see some of them. She recognized the people, a woman and a teenage boy, from the one personal picture that Andy had in his office- a small, family portrait taken on what she'd assumed was a taken at a beachy resort, contained in a shiny gold frame.

Mexico, he'd explained when he'd caught her staring once. The last vacation they'd taken before Laurie and Jacob's accident.

It must have been so hard for him to lose everything like that, especially since he had no other family. Worst yet, he was still a social pariah; the things she'd heard around the office were brutal and they seemed to follow him around like a dark cloud. It was why she'd tried to befriend him when they'd started working together, no one should be that alone.

But Andy had crossed a line.

Though, she hadn’t been very good at drawing one in the first place. Maybe she should have told him about James sooner. Maybe she didn’t want to.

When they finally broke off into the kitchen, Y/n stopped abruptly and folded her arms defensively. Andy didn’t head upstairs immediately, instead he poured two glasses from an open bottle on the dark veined marble counter. “I think you’ll like this one,” he offered her the glass.

Rolling her eyes, Y/n kept her arms folded, “I want my ring.”

“Have a drink,” Andy inched closer, causing Y/n to have to tip her chin to match his gaze. Swallowing a hitch breath, she tried to not react too much. He was so much bigger than her though, it was hard to keep the thrill contained. If the past couple months had taught her anything it was that there was a darkness that resided within Andy- behind the sad blue eyes and the strong silence was something akin to a tornado strong enough to rip an entire country to shreds.

Dangerous and violent.

And she liked it.

“I don’t want one,” she countered definitely, his proximity chipping her resolve away.

“I wasn’t asking, sweetheart,” Andy offered her the glass again, “Take it.” Reluctantly, Y/n relieved him of the glass but hesitated on taking a sip. Something might stir inside her when he was around, but it wasn’t trust. “Relax, I wouldn’t do that to you,” Y/n glared and in response, Andy downed his entire glass in one go, stepping away to fill it up again- that time a little more than the last. “See?” He took a generous swing, “I’m not that kind of guy,” he got close again, that time offering his glass for a toast, “To good men.”

She’d called him a good man, that had aged pretty badly.

“To good men,” she retorted sarcastically, taking a large sip of the wine. He was right, she did like it.

“Do you like it?” Y/n could have been wrong, maybe she had a little too much faith in him, but his question seemed genuine. Like he was eager to know if he’d made the right pick.

“Its alright,” the lie must not have been a very good one because Andy smirked. “I want my-”

“I know, finish your drink,” he gritted. Then, after polishing off his second glass at an alarming rate, Andy wiped off his mouth with the back of his hand. With just the slightest stumble in his usually confident gait, he set the empty glass down with a thump and started walking towards the stairs, “I’ll go get you’re fucking ring,” he mummbled, leaving her downstairs without another word.

Not thinking much of it, she took periodic sips of the wine. It was good, and judging by the label, it must have cost upwards of a couple hundred dollars, but it wasn't particularly strong- definitely not strong enough to get a man of his size drunk after two glasses.

That was when she put it together; the slightest scent of liquor on his breath when he’d answered the door, his outwardly aggressive behavior, the way he’d swallowed the wine like it was water- Andy was already drunk. He’d probably been that way since he’d called earlier.

And he was obviously playing some kind of game with her. Laying a trap. Luring her to danger.

On heavy steps, Andy returned downstairs about five minutes later, prowling towards her and prompting Y/n to absently inch backwards into the wall. “Your ring,” he held it up with a little, wicked grin. She put her hand out for it, but Andy took it instead, turning it over so her palm would be face down. Their chests were inches apart at that point and he kept his darkened eyes matched with hers, presumably in a defiant act above all else, as he slid the ring back onto her finger. “All better?”

Clenching her jaw, Y/n tried to pull her hand away but Andy tightened his grip and lunged; within the second his lips were on hers. Reacting instinctively, she kissed him back- it was completely impulsive, submission to a primal desire. She could taste the mixture of liquors on his lips and his kiss could have been as inebriating as the poison he’d poured down his throat. She might have gotten drunk on him- she would have- But the minute she caught herself, deserting carnal yearning in favor of what was true and right, Y/n tried to use her free hand to shove him away.

But he wouldn’t budge.

Andy was solid, immovable. Like a gray stone wall or a bear boxing in its prey.

She could feel a bulge pressing into her lower stomach, making it hard to focus

“Stop,” she fought against his lips, a frustrated noise escaping her lips when grabbed the wrist of the hand she as using to push against his chest. “You need to stop,” Y/n struggled against his hungry lips. It doesn't matter that she actually doesn't want him to, that she'd traded hours of sleep for fantasies that looked just like that. A moment where they'd be alone and he'd do things to her that James might be scared to.

But none of that mattered- they were fantasies and she was engaged.

When she attempted to use her legs against him- knee him in the groin or kick him in the shin- Andy reacted swiftly positioned both his legs between hers, consequently pressing his crotch against her.

“No,” he easily positioned her hands over her head, closing his fingers in around her wrists and pinning them to the wall above her head, rendering her defenseless. “You want this,” Andy snarled into her mouth, hooking his now free hand around the back of her thigh, guiding it harshly to his hip. “Say you want this.”

Wiggling against frantically, Y/n tossed her head back, hitting it on the wall, as she tried to tear her lips from his. “No, get off me,” she protested, voice rising above a harsh warning.

Deserting her thigh, Andy brought his hand to her neck and held her like that for a moment, “We’re doing this,” he managed through gritted teeth, “I know you, you want this. All those nights we spent together, just the two of us. Everytime I asked you if you wanted to go home, what did you say?” He was squeezing her throat, applying enough pressure to limit airflow.

“N–no,” it was getting harder to breathe and speak, and her vision was dancing but something in the back of Y/n’s mind doubted that he genuinely wanted to hurt her, “I-I said….no.”

“Why didn’t you tell me you’re engaged?” He pulled her forward a little, only to slam her head into the wall again, though not hard enough to inflict any more damage than a sore spot.

“Exactly,” Andy hissed, “You said no. We went on a fucking date and you didn’t tell me you were engaged.”

Hot tears were racing down her paling cheeks and Andy was beginning to seem more and more like a blur. “Because,” she gasped, desperately trying to suck in some air, “I…” A hitched sob punctuated her words, “I….I didn’t want you to know.”

She really didn’t. It was wrong, misguided and shamefully selfish, but at some point, Y/n had thought that bringing up her engagement would ruin the closeness that she so enjoyed with Andy. She enjoyed being the only person he opened up to, in a way, it felt like he was hers and as long as she kept her relationship with James hidden, nothing would change.

“Exactly,” he growled, seeking her lips once more, “You’ve wanted me exactly the way I’ve wanted you since that first case.”

A broken sob fell into his mouth and Y/n occasionally found herself punctuating her failing resistance with sloppily returned kisses. “I don’t wanna do this,” she cried weakly, breaths short and throat dry, “You don’t wanna do this,” halfheartedly, she kissed the corner of his lips and tried to turn her face away again, “You’re drunk, this isn’t you.”

Pressing his forehead to hers, Andy chuckled and his grip on her neck loosened so he could flatten his hand on the top of her chest. She could feel the heat of his palm through the fabric of her dress as he dragged it slowly down her body, and as she got a clearer sense of where his hand was going, she was breathing quickly. “I promise you, sweetheart” he rasped, fingers creeping under the hem of her skirt, which had ridden up her thigh, “This is exactly me.”

Pushing aside the crotch off her underwear, Andy slipped two of his digits into her folds and started pumping slowly. “See?” He taunted in response to the slickness that had gathered there shortly after she’d felt his member pressing into her stomach. Try as she might, it was impossible to deny the effect that Andy had on her and she hated that she did want him- a man like him, who was proving to be worse than the rumors. She hated that the only reason she was resisting was because she didn't want to be branded as a cheater.

“You want this,” he coaxed, curling his fingers and extracting a sharp inhale, “Admit it sweetheart.”

Not because she loved her fiance- she did- but she didn’t want that love questioned. Not by Andy, not by herself.

But love and sex, they were different. She could love James and want Andy. It wasn't wrong, it was just human.

His beard grazed her skin, and the sensation coupled with her mounting arousal made a shiver run up her spine. “Please….” Her plea was teary, and Y/n wasn’t sure what she was begging for; for him to spare her the consequence of a nasty truth or give her more.

Biting down on her lower lip, Y/n hoped a little pain and blood on her tongue was enough to keep her mouth shut and ward off the obvious truth, but when his lips sought her jaw and he added another finger to his quickening ministrations while pressing his thumb to her nub, she succumbed. “Yes…” She heaved, sobbing, “I want you,” she cried, head bending forward and her face consequently nuzzling the side of his.

She was only human, after all.

Finally satisfied, Andy let Y/n’s wrists go and she immediately loomed her arms around his neck, holding him to her. Meanwhile, he removed his fingers from her arousal and started pushing her underwear down, letting it pool at her feet. Without thinking, she kicked it away and when Andy curled his fingers under her ass after sparing a bare moment to undo his pants and free his cock, she let him lift her off the ground and wrapped her legs around his waist.

But when Andy slid into her with unfettered ease, girth stretching her to the point of a delicious burn, an erotic moan tumbled off her lips and her fingers curled in his nape. Immediately, he struck up a pace of pronounced but aggressive thrusts, giving off the sense that he was barely containing himself.

She still felt guilty. Y/n still knew it was wrong.

“Fuck….Laurie….” In the heat of the moment, her name dripped off his lips, and somewhere in the back of her mind, she realized that it wasn’t even about her;

'Because you remind me of someone. Someone special.'

'Keep the length, try a couple shades darker'- just like the woman in the photographs.

“I’ve been thinking about this since we met,” he admitted, liquor stained breath hot on her face and distracting her, “God, you feel so fucking good, you take me so well.”

He felt good too.

Steadying her at the hip with one hand, Andy used the other to free her blouse from the waist of her skirt. Delving under the hem, he groped her breast through her bra, kneading harshly. As the rhythmic roll of his hips grew rabid, Y/n found herself demanding, “Harder,” and, “Faster,” with the occasional obscene praise peppered in between.

Reveling in the feel of his bulging veins rubbing her sensitive walls with each purposeful, aggressive thrust and the way the curve of his member seemed to probe at the lowest part of her stomach, Y/n sunk her nails into his back, clawing at Andy through his shirt. Breathy moans and low grunts bounced off the walls as stifling heat cocooned them, hardly remedied by the air conditioning.

With each jerk, her back hit the wall with an audible thump and as Y/n felt herself inching closer to insurmountable gratification she tightened her legs around his hips, driving the back of her feet into his thighs. “Andy,” she hitched headily when his lips met hers again, not really in a kiss but a stretch of shared breaths. “Fuck,” Y/n heaved into his mouth, “You feel so….”

Grinning wickedly, he tried to meet her lust blown eyes but their faces were so close that it was hard. “Feel so….?”

“So-uh,” a small fraction of her was readily able to recognize that there was no coming back from the words she wanted to say. Her silly admission that he was the best she’d ever had. Y/n’s mind though had fallen into some kind of sex-crazed limbo, caught between what was inherently right and what felt incomparably good.

“Tell me,” he demanded, kissing her roughly, biting her lips before pulling away a few centimeters.

“Good,” at the back of his head, she grabbed a fistful of his hair, causing him to bite her lips when they kissed again, “So fucking good.” Pressing her face close to his, the rise and fall of her chest became erratic and her heart was galloping in behind her ribs and she became acutely aware of just how close she was to toppling over with gratification.

“I wanna feel you,” he encouraged, quickening his pace a little, fingers digging into her waist.

The fabric of his shirt was crumpled in her grip and eager for release, Y/n struggled to buck her hips towards his. With a gasp, Y/n’s legs stiffened and her head lolled back against the wall. Unrestrained ecstasy started in a burst at her center, spreading like an untamed wildefire to electrify her every nerve. Clenching around him, her frame quaked and she drenched their thighs in silky moisture. She didn’t think it had ever felt like that; like watching fireworks on an LSD high or speeding on the freeway after a night of tequila shots. There was a rush she’d never experienced before, one she fittingly thought could only ever be achieved with drugs. “Andy! Fuck!” Her throat hurt and her words were loud and a little hoarse.

Andy’s pace didn’t falter through the crest of her euphoria, though just as her high settled, leaving behind a pleasurable sensitivity and colours on her vision, his hips sputtered. She should have pushed him away, begged him to pull out, but much too consumed by the threads of pleasure still running through her veins, Y/n clung to him as generous ribbons of his hot product shot into her. By then, he’d shifted his feet slightly and moved both his hands to hold onto her hip, as if he were keeping her in place so she’d take every drop of him.

Even after it was over, Andy remained sheathed between her sore walls for a handful of slow moments. They kissed, lips taking on a leisured pace that time and Y/n leaned forward so he’d be supporting most of her weight. She could have sworn that every sensation in that moment was raw and amplified; the roughness of his beard scratching the area around her lips and tickling her palms, the fullness of him still settled inside her, the heat of his touch seeping through her blouse and the rhythm of his heart matching hers.

Suddenly, she couldn’t remember if her heartbeat had ever matched James’.

She hated that she was comparing them. He was a good man and Andy was…..Andy.

Gingerly, he pulled out, and simultaneously, she untangled her legs from around him, knees almost buckling as her feet finally hit the ground. Shutting her eyes as she slumped against the wall, Y/n could hear the soft clink of his belt as Andy tugged his pants up, and while she made no effort to pull her skirt down, she could feel the fabric slowly creeping back to his proper place.

When he lazily leaned forward, braced by one arm pressed to the wall diagonally over her head, Andy reached out to ghost the outline of her face with his rough fingertips, thumb tracing tear stains and then the shape of her kiss-swollen lips. His breathing was just as heavy as hers and it was only after his touch hand trailed down her neck and had reached the valley of her cleavage did he disturbed the heavy silence. “Can I tell you something?” His hoarse whisper elicited a pitiful whimper and shiver from her. His large hand skimmed the contour of her curves and settled to a firm grip on her waist, “You’re prettier when you’re mine.”

Mine.

His.

A hitched sob escaped her throat just as her guilt doubled; how could she? That time, when she pushed him away, Andy complied. There was so much she could say to him; curse him, lie and say she hated him, blame him but it would really only be words born from her own guilt and after he’d spent the past forty minutes or so ruining her, Y/n didn’t think he deserved the satisfaction.

Sucking in a big breath to contain her shameful tears, she shuffled away from Andy, who didn’t even put a toe towards trying to stop her; she supposed it was because he’d already gotten what he wanted. Blindly, Y/n stumbled towards the door, letting herself out without a word and not bothering to shut it as she left. Approaching the car parked on the curb, Y/n rummaged through her coat for the keys and after she got them out, she shrugged off the coat using it to lap up some of the moisture on her face and neck before getting in.

Immediately after getting the engine going, Y/n put down the windows and turned on the air conditioning, hoping the inescapable chill would do something for her appearance. Then reaching into the glove compartment, she hastily extracted a wad of napkins and did her best to clean up before discarding them on the passenger seat and grabbing up her phone.

“I’m sorry about what happened earlier.”

“Drive safe. Text me when you get there.”

“Y/n?”

“I get it if you’re still upset but please let me know that you’re safe.”

“Ordered your favorite for dinner. Waiting till you get here. I love you.”

“Shit!” Y/n banged the wheel with the side of her fist and hot tears rained from blurry eyes. She’d been at Andy’s for just over an hour. Trying to slow the erratic rise and fall of her chest and quiet her sobs, she quickly typed a response, telling James that she’d forgotten her phone in the car and would be home within the next half hour.

Then, as she wiped her eyes and pulled off, hoping she could bring herself to face James by the time she got home.

#chris evans #chris evans x reader #andy barber x reader #andy barber fanfic #andy barber #fanfic #defending jacob #andy barber au #prettier when you're mine

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castle-of-ruin · 3 months

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A/N: Hi! So, this story has been in the works forever. I've always wanted to write for Deacon. I've always wanted to write Bodyguard!Deacon specifically. It's something I've thought about from the very beginning of my journey with Swat. I find it important to clarify that this is an au. The events that take place in this story are completely and utterly my own. They are made up and not true. I hope that, as readers, you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Rating: 18+ MDNI

Pairing: Bodyguard!Deacon x f!Reader

Reminder: This is a bodyguard au. It in no way relates to the actual plot of Swat.

Warnings: mentions of injuries, violence, death threats. There are no explicit descriptions of the readers' body type or other features. Brief use of the word 'her', reader is not named, and there is no use of y/n. Mutual pining, use of the word sweetheart.

Other characters: Jim Street, Dominique Luca, Daniel "Hondo" Harrelson

Word Count - 3.2k

Author's Note 2: If I forgot any content warnings please let me know. Once again I hope anyone who reads this story enjoys you. Feedback, reblogs, comments, likes are all welcome and much appreciated. I'm really putting myself out there by posting this story. It's personal and something I'm so passionate about. Happy Reading!!

Disclaimer: I do not condone people taking my work and reposting it as their own. Do not steal my work.

Adding some visual inspiration for the people who care💕

In the Beginning

When you first began working with criminals, you never expected your life to be threatened. Sure, there were risks of taking a job like this, but all you were asked to do was to determine whether or not a person was classified as fit to go to trial. That meant oftentimes you had to postpone hearings and trials due to a person's mental capacity.

You understood how upsetting it could be and you understood why people would blame you for justice not being brought forward. It was easy to empathize with those people, but it didn't mean your life needed to be in danger.

The first night your life was threatened you were just getting home from a grueling day in the office. Your feet ached and your stomach grumbled. Upon your arrival home you found a note taped to your front door. You tilted your head inspecting the letter before you ripped it off the door. Bile rose in your throat as you read the letter.

I will kill you for what you've done

The note was scribbled haphazardly and hardly legible, but you were well aware of what it said. Never in your four years of working had you needed to go to the cops. People you'd worked with time and time again.

The Los Angeles Police Department was unhelpful when it came to answering your pleas. It wasn't until you went to your childhood friend Jim Street that you were finally heard.

You hadn't seen Jim in over 3 years. After he left for swat the two of you hadn't had much time to get together anymore. You spoke occasionally, but had no time to really see each other anymore.

When you showed up at his door he was surprised to see you. The greeting was cut short, you were rushed and scared. As you explained everything to Jim, Luca, Jim's roommate and coworker listened carefully. He was actively trying to think of a way to get you helped out.

"What about Deac's security business?" He piped in.

The two of them looked at one another.

They spoke briefly to one another about their old coworker. Explaining to you how Deacon departed from SWAT and took up doing security details full time. You nodded as you listened to them. It wasn't a bad idea, but you didn't know how long it would be before something would take place.

As if they heard you in your head they had already made the phone call. Luca spoke briefly with someone on the phone, you assumed it was Deacon. Jim smiled softly at you, trying his best to give you some kind of comfort.

You stayed with Jim and Luca while you waited for Deacon to arrive. You felt safe with them and you took advantage of the opportunity to rest. With eyes closed you lulled to sleep for the first time in days.

Your slumber was rudely interrupted by a warm hand on your shoulder. The action made you jump, and your eyes searched for the culprit. Jim smiled at you sheepishly, apologizing with his eyes more so than with words.

"Sorry, didn't mean to scare you." He told you.

"It's okay, just, jumpy is all." He nodded his head in understanding.

"He's here." Jim stated.

You got up and followed Jim out of the den and back into the living room. Luca talked to another man, you assumed it was Deacon.

Luca turned when he saw you come into the room. His face lit up, he had already accepted you as one of his people.

"Hey Deac, this is her." He patted the man on the shoulder and he turned to face you and Jim.

You hadn't paid him much attention before he turned, but you were shocked to say the least. He was a surprisingly handsome man, and it made your heart pound in your chest.

In the few seconds before Luca introduced the two of you, you allowed your eyes to trace over him. The hair on his head was mostly gray aside from the occasional dark strand here and there, his beard joined in the majority of gray. The black t-shirt he wore hid no ounce of his muscled form. You wondered if he wore a shirt two sizes too small on purpose.

A clearing of a throat disturbed your thoughts. You blinked rapidly and pulled your eyes away from Deacon. Luca introduced the two of you and you shook Deacon's hand. Heat creeped up your neck as he stared down at you, with a soft smile.

The smile slowly faded and he crossed his arms over his chest becoming serious.

"Luca tells me you need some protection? Care to explain the story to me a little bit?" He asked.

You nodded, and took a seat on Luca and Jim's couch. You explained the story to him as thoroughly as you could. Jim grabbed your shoulder in comfort a couple of times when the emotions overwhelmed you.

"This isn't the usual detail my team and I take on, but you're a friend of a friend. I'll make sure you're safe. I'll work on this personally." He nodded to you and to Jim.

Tears welled in your eyes.

"Thank you Deacon." He smiled and nodded again.

"Of course. Now, first things first. You need a safe house of some sort while I work with my team to track down the people after you. Is there somewhere you can think of that won't be public knowledge?" He asked you.

You thought about it for a moment before you nodded.

"I do.”

Present

The cabin air was frigid as you made your way back inside. Placing the firewood in its rightful place you take a piece and set it on the fire. Rubbing your hands together you enjoy the warmth seeping into your skin. A car pulling into the driveway draws your attention away from the fire.

Getting up you make your way to the window on high alert. Your guard falls when you spot Deacon getting out of his car. You watch as he scans the area before coming to the front door. He knocks twice on the door and you go over to it to open it.

When he enters he hands you the bag in his hand.

"What's this?" You ask.

Deacon smiles softly, "Dessert." He states and you peer inside.

Your smile widens upon seeing apple pie and vanilla ice cream in the bag.

"Damn, Deacon, I'm surprised you got something so unhealthy." You laugh.

He shakes his head, "I eat ice cream."

"Doesn't look like it." You mutter to yourself.

"What did you say?" He asks.

"Nothing. Ignore me." You shake your head.

Taking the bag into the kitchen you unload everything into the freezer. You notice dishes still left over from this morning in the sink and go over to wash them. Under the running water your thoughts drift over the past 2 months.

It felt like nothing was happening. You felt stuck, and frozen. Like a prisoner with nowhere else to go. This was meant to be for your own protection, but being stuck in your family's old cabin in the woods was driving you to madness. Plus, being stuck here with Deacon, alone for all hours of the day was testing every amount of strength and willpower you have. Which was just about none when it came to the older man.

Since the beginning of month 2 things have felt different between the two of you. In month one Deacon wouldn't even sit on the same couch as you. He always sat in the chair furthest from you at the small table in the dining room, and he never looked at you for a moment more than necessary.

Now, something was different.

He sits next to you on the couch and actually joins you when you watch tv. Now, he doesn't hide his lingering gaze, nor does he sit in the chair furthest from you when you eat. The subtle changes in his behavior drove you mad.

From the very beginning you were heavily attracted to him. Now, even more so.

"Hey," Deacon's voice draws you from your thoughts.

"You okay?" He asks. Coming forward and leaning against the counter.

Your eyes are drawn to the way his arms bulge as he crosses his arms over his chest. You gulp and look away.

"Yeah, I'm fine. Why do you ask?"

He chuckles and leans forward, your breath catches in your throat as you look up at him. He switches the water off and leans back against the counter. You let out a breath and close your eyes.

"You were washing the same dish for 10 minutes. Obviously something is wrong." He states.

"10 minutes?" You ask and he nods.

You let out a deep sigh and grip the edge of the sink. Tears well in your eyes and you decide not to hold them back any longer. You let yourself cry and put your head in your hands as you lean on the sink. Deacon touches your back and you allow yourself to lean into it. He rubs soothing circles on your back and allows you to cry.

After a while you sniffle and wipe your face.

"I'm sorry." You wipe at your eyes and look over at him.

His smile is sad as he looks at you. Deacon swipes a stray tear from your cheeks and cups your face in his hand. He leans in as if he's going to kiss you but, then the moment is broken when something clicks in his head and he pulls away clearing his throat.

"Don't be sorry. I'm gonna go contact my team. See if there's any updates." With that he exits the kitchen.

Fuck. You think to yourself.

For the rest of the day Deacon avoided you like the plague. It made you feel even worse than you already did. Loneliness pangs in your chest as you sit on the couch and aimlessly scroll through the channels.

Deacon busts into the room and you jump.

"We have to go now." He states, throwing your jacket at you.

Jumping to your feet you throw the jacket on and follow Deacon to the back of the cabin. You grip his jacket tightly in your hand trying to stay close to him. He turns and looks at you, pressing one of his fingers to his lips.

He opens the door quietly and inches out slowly. Deacon grasps your hand in his and drags you out into the woods. The two of you run for a while before he stops.

"You see that ridge up there?" He asks pointing.

"Yes," You pause looking at him.

"Go. Get up there and hide. Don't come out until I come get you." He instructs.

You grip his arm. "Deacon, what if you don't come back?"

He grips his phone in his back pocket and places it in your hands.

"Call, Street. Tell him where we are. Tell him to send the team." He states.

You nod, with tear filled eyes, and trembling lips. Releasing his hand you take off up the hill and hide. Pulling Deacons phone out of your pocket you dial Jim.

"Hey Deac,"

"Jim, it's me. Deacon told me to tell you to send the team. Hurry Jim. I'm scared." You sob.

"Where are you?" He rushes out.

"Near the Oregon border." You stutter out.

"Keep the line open, we're tracking Deac's phone." You nod, but he can't see you.

Gunshots could be heard in the distance. Tears fall freely now, rolling down your cheeks.

"Got it, we're on the way. Stay hidden." He urges and the line goes dead.

You pull your knees as close to your body as you can trying to hide away in the dark nook. The gunshots fade in the distance and your heart races faster. Every part of you wants to run and see if Deacon was okay, but you listened and stayed put.

After what felt like forever a helicopter could be heard overhead. Staying in your hiding spot you close your eyes and hope they make it to you soon. You were freezing.

After a few more minutes you could hear voices and footsteps. Some shouting out how many people were dead, others asking where Deacon was. You heard Jim's voice in the distance calling for you. Now you got up from your hiding spot and went tumbling down the hill. You ran as fast as you could back in the direction of the cabin.

"Jim!" You yell his name when you finally see him.

He comes running towards you and you slam into him. Hugging him tightly, tears once again falling freely. His hand goes to the back of your head as he holds you close.

When you pull away you search his eyes seeing if they hold anything.

"Where's Deacon?" You ask.

There it was. Jim averts his eyes from you for a brief moment. Something the normal eye would never pick up. You grip his arm tightly.

"Jim please, tell me." You beg.

"He's alive, but he's been shot. Plus some other injuries. He wasn't conscious when we wheeled him out of here." He tells you truthfully.

Your shoulders sag. "Is he going to be okay?" You ask.

"We don't know yet. Come on, let's get you out of here." Jim wraps his arm around you.

"But, it's not safe." You stop.

"It is now. Has he not told you?" Jim asks.

You tilt your head. "What do you mean?"

"Deacon, and his team were able to locate the men who threatened your life. He had me, Hondo and the rest of the team go in and take them down." He pauses for a moment.

"Some got away. They had found your location and we couldn't get to them before they left. We were just barely able to warn Deacon before they showed up." He finishes.

You haven't cried this much since your childhood pet died when you were 16. A part of you died that day with him. Now, here you were crying over a man you may never get to see again because he too might be dead.

Jim leads you to the helicopter and helps you get in the seat before doing so himself. You watch the land below get smaller and darker the higher into the air you go. Jim grabs your hand and squeezes it for a moment. You know it was him trying to comfort you. Jim had never been good at that.

Being able to go back to your home felt wrong. It was crazy to think that two months living in the unknown would change your entire view on your life. You desperately want to go to the hospital to see Deacon. Make sure he's okay for yourself, or see for yourself he's not okay.

Jim agrees to take you to the hospital. Upon arrival you notice how many people were there for Deacon. He was held in high regard amongst his former teammates. It was a sight to see.

Someone calls your name and you look in the direction of the voice. The man you knew as Hondo approaches you.

"We've heard a lot about you. It's nice to finally meet you." He tells you with a genuine smile.

You nod, unable to form words of any kind. Your throat was sore and scratchy. Making it feel impossible to speak at the moment. You need water. Once again reading your mind, Jim appears with a bottle of water in hand. You smile thankfully at him.

"Thanks." You croak out.

You find a seat and wait with the rest of the people in the waiting room. The hours tick by as all of you wait for an update on Deacon.

Three hours after you get to the hospital a doctor comes out of the OR doors. Everyone stands, and the doctor's eyes widen.

"Are all of you here for Mr. Kay?" He asks.

Everyone nods. The doctor takes his glasses off and wipes them before adjusting them to his face once more.

"He's going to be fine. Recovery will suck, but he will recover. Gunshot wound, cracked ribs, fractured arm, the list goes on. It's a good thing he has all of you." He nods.

"Can we see him?" Your quiet voice pokes through the crowd.

"It's after visiting hours, but I can allow one of you back." He states.

You expect someone to go back and see him, but when no one does you step forward. Jim nods at you. You found it odd the people who have known Deacon the longest would allow someone who's only known him for two months be with him while in this position.

The doctor nods and gestures for you to follow him. He leads you down the hall of hospital rooms and stops when he reaches Deacon's door.

"I'll have them bring in some blankets and pillows. If you don't plan to stay, let me know." He states.

"No, I'm staying." He nods and leaves.

You examine the small hospital room. The monitor beeps to the rhythm of Deacon's heart. This is the first time you've seen him in over 5 hours. You weren't sure if you ever would.

Taking him in you frown at the sight of him. A bandage on his left cheekbone, busted lip, a splint on his right arm. He was a mess, all because he was protecting you.

You pull the chair over to him and sit down beside him.

"Damn you, Deacon." You whisper.

You grab his open hand into your own, looping your thumb around his. He didn't close his hand around yours, but that didn't matter. Feeling his pulse thump in his wrist was enough. You lean your head down and place it on the bed, closing your eyes. Allowing yourself to take in his warmth. Meaning he was very much alive.

A nurse enters the room and gives you a soft smile before setting up the small bed in the corner of the room. You silently thank her. Your eyes snap to Deacon when you feel his fingers wrap about your hand.

His eyes are just barely open as he looks at you.

"I'm sorry." He croaks out.

"Sorry? Why are you sorry." You raise your eyebrows at him.

"Scaring you."

"Deac, you saved my life. You have nothing to apologize for. I'm the one who needs to apologize. I'm the reason you almost died." You grip his hand tighter.

He laughs, then groans in pain.

"It was my job sweetheart. You don't have to apologize either." He reassures you.

"I guess we both need to stop apologizing." You laugh out.

"I guess so." He gives a small smile.

You rub his arm softly and he watches you do so.

"You should get some rest." You tell him as you stand up.

He watches as you lean over and press a kiss to his cheek. Your breath catches in your throat as you linger a moment longer contemplating things in your head. His beard scratches your cheek as you loop your arm around his neck in an awkward hug.

"I'll be right here if you need me." You tell him.

He nods. Flicking the light in the hospital room off you make your way to the small bed in the corner and try to sleep.

"Goodnight Deac."

"Goodnight Sweetheart.”

Tagging a few who may want to read it : @obiknights @chelseasdagger @streakyglasses

A big big thank you to @spnshortcake for encouraging me to post this. I'm grateful for you. Thank you love ❤️.

#oaks writing #deacon x reader #david “deacon” kay #swat fanfic

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