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lewkwoodnco · 3 months

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Falling For You - Lockwood x Reader

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

a/n: tfw you almost die in the arms of your future employer :) rip lockwood and co, never an agents first choice be it in canon or fanon ok ill stop now also just to be clear we’re all ignoring how much the title sucks ass okay god only gave out a limited number of brain cells and we can’t ALL be as creative as @bella-rose29 (will make a separate post on this a little later, not enough space here) (but also she was SICKKK for coming up w the title deck the halls (and not your partner) ok didn’t mean to turn this into a belle appreciation post but 👍)

warnings/tropes: fluff fluff FLUFF, this is about as fluffy as it gets from me ashdkd, cringy pick up lines overload, also I declare plagiarism (?) of some rlly popular incorrect quotes, you'll know it when you read them

word count: 2.6k!

TAGLIST | MASTERLIST

She and Lucy were in the kitchen, putting the kettle on and waiting for the boys to reach home. The four of them had split up to get some errands done that morning before breakfast - she and Lucy went to collect the payment for a few jobs, while Lockwood and George dropped off some paperwork at DEPRAC headquarters. Lucy put the kettle on while she refilled their teabag jar, and a minute later the boys walked in.

George was telling Lockwood off for something, who wasn't looking too sorry for whatever it was that he had done, though he clearly cared enough to try to suppress his giggles.

"Those forms took me hours, Lockwood. I wasn't about to let you drop them into some slush."

"I keep telling you, I wasn't going to drop them."

"How would you know when you were too busy making an ass of yourself?"

"I haven't seen a good pickup line in a while, George. You found it funny too."

"Yes, and the threat of you chucking our forms was downright hilarious."

She handed out the mugs of tea.

"What pickup line?"

"It was just a DEPRAC ad. Something like 'Are you a wraith? Because you have me love-locked.' Just a reminder of some quick signs of a visitor presence for Valentine's Day."

She meandered over to where Lockwood was standing at the kitchen counter, a little too casual. He immediately snapped up whatever he was scribbling. She looked mildly (read: exaggeratedly) injured, but he just gave her one of his winning smiles. Really, she was well within her rights to be suspicious.

"S'that?"

"A bill."

"What bill?"

"Nothing to worry about."

"I'm not worried."

"Good."

"Show me the bill."

"You're adorable."

It was a poor excuse of an attempt at a distraction, as she immediately started trying to snatch it away. Lockwood just held the folded paper above his head, trying to pry his jacket out of her yanking hands. After a minute or so of vehement struggling, the scuffle ended the way all of their scuffles ended - her playing at sour grapes.

"Oh! Go boil-yer-head. I don't even want to see that bill anyway."

He slotted the letter into an envelope smoothly as George cut in.

"Speaking of bills, hopefully, we'll be able to pay more of them off soon. Couples like to go away for Valentine's, so it's the perfect time to get any lingering visitors taken care of. We should put an ad in the paper, like DEPRAC."

That set Lockwood off again, and George groaned. As he got up to get another biscuit, she conspiratorially turned to Lockwood.

"Y'know, for someone who's so tickled by pickup lines, I bet you'd be terrible at them."

"Not more terrible than you."

"I beg to differ!"

"Wanna bet?"

"Thought you'd never ask."

“First person to laugh loses.”

”Not fair! I’m always laughing when you’re around. You’re bloody ridiculous.”

”Fine. First person to…er, feel something, loses. Deal?”

It wasn’t a question as much as it was a challenge. She hesitated. He took a sip from his mug. She let go of the breath she was holding.

“Deal.”

Their bet had taken a back burner in her mind while she was preparing for their case that night, but she was still immediately suspicious when she walked into the kitchen to see Lockwood innocently snacking on a bowl of raisins.

"What did you do?"

"Nothing."

"What are you going to do?"

"Nothing! Can't a guy eat his raisins?" He silently proferred the bowl to her. She narrowed her eyes.

"No thanks."

"How about a date?"

"When did we get - oh. Ha ha." There was a mischievous crinkle in Lockwood's eye. "Sneaky. I was busy preparing for our case, like a proper agent."

"Hmm, excuses, excuses."

"Fine. If George finds out you haven't read tonight's case file, you're on your own."

"NO no no no please please please -"

She prepped a few pickup lines before they left, just enough to stop Lockwood from becoming completely unbearable.

"Are you a visitor? Because you've been haunting my dreams."

She scrunched up her nose. "Boo. That's terrible."

"You try coming up with a visitor-themed one. They're all so horrible."

She paused for a minute.

"Are you a Lurker? 'Cause you're making my heart race."

"...no one likes a show-off," he grumbled, and she smiled to herself as they continued rooting through boxes, looking for a potential Source.

"Your hand looks heavy. Could I hold it for you?"

"What's it like to be the most gorgeous person in this room?" That one got a good laugh out of him.

"Might be more flattering if my competition wasn't a Raw Bones. You’re pretty and I’m cute. Wanna be pretty cute together?"

"If you and I were socks, we'd make a great pair."

She revelled in the huge smile that lit up his face. She knew he'd get a kick out of that one.

She hadn't expected to have as much fun with their game as she did. They recounted their highlights to Lucy and George on the way home, which made for an entertaining end to the case. As Lucy and George put away their coats, Lockwood lingered behind, looking at her as if there was something he wanted to say, but couldn't quite find the words. She became even more alarmed when he placed a hand on her shoulder, because of how serious he looked.

"Is everything okay?"

He took a shaky breath and tightened his grip on her shoulder ever so slightly.

"If you let me borrow a kiss, I promise I'll give it right back."

The line itself wasn't particularly outrageous, but in the darkness by the door, with their faces in the shadows and him holding her close, she momentarily forgot how to breathe.

"Good one," she whispered.

He gave her a sloping smile and retreated into the kitchen. She stood there for a moment, thinking about the warmth on her shoulder, as if his hand was still there.

"Did it hurt?"

"When I fell from heaven?"

"When you fell down the stairs. Right in front of us. It's been ten minutes and you haven't even gotten up yet."

With a strangled wheeze, he righted himself, looking more than a little stupid with his affronted expression and hair sticking up in all directions. They were on a case, and Lockwood had been a bit too close to the stairs whilst investigating the death glow on the landing. It had been quite a painful-looking rollercoaster of a fall with many bumps as he flailed for the railings, ending with a muffled scream.

"I was checking for broken bones."

"For ten minutes? Do you even have that many bones?"

He had an oily smirk on his face, though it was mostly nullified by his slightly crossed eyes.

"I've got...so many bones, I could give you a...wait. No. Hey lady, do you want a...bone? If you were a bone, you'd be in my...body...my body has all the bones...hang on. Okay, got it. Bones....fuck."

"...concussion?"

"Nuh-uh."

That was the moment his knees chose to buckle under him, and the three of them hurried to hold him upright. Even though he kept insisting he was fine, he was looking far too pale and woozy, so they flagged down a cab and pushed Lockwood into it. After a quick round of rock paper scissors, she joined him in the cab while George and Lucy got to stay to finish the job.

It had been a bit of a challenge to fumble for the key to the front door with the dead weight that was Lockwood compressing her spine, but she somehow managed. She tried her best to keep track of all of his long limbs after he knocked his head on the side of the door frame, groaning again. She dumped him onto their living room sofa, going down with him in the process, and with some difficulty peeled herself out of his grip. The bump had clearly taken quite a bit out of him, for by the time she returned with a blanket, he had completely passed out.

With some difficulty, she wrestled his rapier off of him and draped the blanket over him. She put away her own gear and rapier and curled up with a book on the armchair opposite the sofa. It was odd to see Lockwood sleeping. And even more odd to see him doing it so peacefully, like all thoughts and worries had been knocked clean out of his head. Much like her thoughts, the first time they met.

It hadn’t even been her goddamn fault. She had been lugging around her uncle’s rapiers since hers had been sent for cleaning and it was starting to make her arm ache. She deserved a little lean, no doubt. Only, what she thought was the door frame had been the door itself, so when her then-future employer had opened the door, she stumbled right into his arms.

And then promptly fell out of them when he let her go by surprise. To his credit, he was superfluously apologetic and sympathetic, and kept asking if her head was alright throughout the interview. It was a little annoying, if she were entirely honest, but she was grateful when that sympathy translated into a job, because all coherent thoughts in her head were lying somewhere on their front door runner.

As much as she tried not to think about the incident since Lockwood showed no sign of doing so himself, it kept her up at night more than she'd like to admit. But it had also been rather liberating, as there was little else she could do that would be any worse.

As if hearing her thoughts, Lockwood began to stir after an hour or so, opening his eyes blearily. She instinctively put her book down and crouched next to the sofa, where she immediately felt awkward. After a moment's hesitation, she placed her hand on his forehead, and they blinked at each other in confusion.

"How're you feeling?"

"Great." He cleared his throat, which barely helped his hoarse voice. "Chipper."

"Are you sure? Feeling chilly?"

"No, I'm fine. Are you a construction worker?"

"...huh?"

"Because you are building."

"What."

"I win."

He turned to his side and buried his face into his cushion with a satisfied look on his face.

"Oh, Lockwood. I don't think..."

He pulled his head out of the cushion alarmingly fast. That couldn't have been good for his neck. "Ohhh, too good for my pickup lines now, eh?"

"I...what?"

"I get a bump on my head and you don't like my pickup lines no more?"

"Why do you have a Brooklyn accent?"

"You's got a Brooklyn accent."

"Okay, now you're just throwing a tantrum."

He fussed for a few more minutes, muttering out of the corner of his mouth or into the cushion, but eventually calmed down. As his eyes fluttered close, his breathing becoming long and even, she quietly got up to leave.

"Just so you know...I do think you're building."

The Brooklyn accent was gone, and though his low murmur was comfortably familiar, something in it sent a spark running through her brain.

"I think you're building too."

She could have sworn he had a small smile before his mouth relaxed as he drifted off again.

She didn't see much of him after that, given how much rest he needed, and the reprieve from their game was a welcome relief. The pickup lines didn't slide off her tongue as easily when she meant them as much as she did now. Still, she couldn't hide from him forever, and ran into him in the kitchen a few nights later.

"Oh. Hey."

He held up the biscuit tin. "Hello. Catching up on my biscuit rations."

She smiled. "Feeling better?"

"Definitely. A little sick of lying about, but I think I've finally got my head on straight."

He smiled, and the tension between them melted. She smiled back.

"Must have been scary, having your brain go wonky like that."

"It was...wild. I don't even know how I had the presence of mind to put my rapier away."

Her cheeks burned as she pointedly rummaged through their pantry for a snack while Lockwood brewed tea for the both of them. They sat at the kitchen table in silence, slowly sipping their tea as they ignored the elephant in the room. That is, until Lockwood broached the subject.

“Did it hurt?”

She put her mug down. “Lockwood.”

“Did it hurt?” He pressed, firmly.

“I’ve already heard this one.”

“Just - humour me for a minute, won’t you?”

She looked at the little she could see of his face, given how close they were sitting, and gave a small sigh.

“So. Did it hurt?”

“When I fell from heaven?”

“When you fell into my life.”

He lightly squeezed her hand, it was only then that she realised that they were holding hands. She choked on her breath in a mildly undignified manner, but with the proximity and the unexpected answer, she was well and truly taken aback. She waited for the embarrassment to kick in. There were a lot of things to be embarrassed about at that moment - how he could probably see every imperfection on her face, how he could probably tell how nervous she was getting from how clammy her palm must be, and of course that he remembered their dreadfully embarrassing first encounter.

But the shame never came. If anything, she felt oddly…touched. There wasn’t anything embarrassing about the memory anymore. It was…as much as it pained her to admit it…slightly romantic. She looked away from his face, shaking her head slightly, staring at their gripping hands. So easy it was to hold onto each other in the shadows, but terrifying in the daylight. Scratch that, it was terrifying to see herself holding his hand just as tightly as he held hers. Maybe he did compel…something in her.

His hand disappeared into his pocket, and a moment later he was pulling out a familiar, weathered envelope.

"I've never...I've never asked anyone to be my Valentine. Never knew how it worked. Still don't really know how it works. So I tried writing it all down, and..." Lockwood frowned at the loopy yet measured scrawls in front of him. He sighed in defeat, crumpling the letter. "...and I still don't know how it works."

She swallowed through the lump in her throat. "Me neither. But..." she tore her eyes away from the table, looking at his face with his emotions stacked plain as day. "I think we know enough."

She curled her fingers into his. Years ago, she hadn't thought knowing if she was in love would ever be an issue, but for so many years she struggled to find the love they wrote books, songs and poetry about. But sitting here now, in the dim light of the kitchen, with a person whose face she could trace in her sleep, she realised Little Her had had it right all along.

“I always thought you were very nice to me in that interview. A little too nice.”

“You didn’t hear the way you screamed. I thought you were going down with a heart attack.”

TAGLIST: @dangelnleif @elenianag080 @snoopyluver20 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @avdiobliss @mitskiswift99 @ahead-fullofdreams @neewtmas @mischivana @houseoftwistedspirits

#lockwood and co #lockwood & co #lockwood and co netflix #anthony lockwood #fanfiction #fanfic #anthony lockwood x reader #anthony lockwood imagine #valentines day #fluff

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leatherfaceish · 1 year

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FATAL ATTRACTION HOTLINE

You fall victim to a hotline serial killer on campus, unbeknownst to you that it’s your classmate Mickey attempting to fulfill his desires.

RATING — MATURE & EXPLICIT PAIRING — mickey altieri x gender-neutral! reader GENRE(S) — drabble, ghostface! au, 1997! au, stalker! au, college! au, crime, smut, thriller WORD COUNT — 4k WARNINGS — mature content, heavy (seriously) dark humor, intense situations, manipulation, weapon used: knife, petname used: baby, humor towards suicide as a distraction, dumbification, stalker! mickey, mickey is an ass, reader dies btw SMUT WARNINGS — sexual content, dub-con (consent is given), prey/predator dynamic, biting/marking, dry & clothed handjob, unprotected intercourse, creampie, double orgasm, spit as lube, hair-pulling, dark! mickey is basically feral for you RELEASE DATE — APR 13TH 2023

AUTHOR’S NOTE — i think this is the most fucked up thing I've written to date, and yet it's kind of tame? lmao but the reader's entire thought process being like "i want to see how this ghostface FUCKS." absolutely took me out. and i wrote it. also yes i changed the title because i’m worried this site will have a field day with this one.

NAVIGATION | MASTERLIST | FEEDBACK

“Calling at such a late hour?” The robotic voice seemed to lean into the microphone, almost cackling at the time you’ve dialed the hotline written on the bathroom stall. “You must be desperate.”

"When was the last time you felt something?" Your finger tapped at the numbers on the wall, the stall seeming to fit you just right in the moment of your weakest. "Like really—feel."

"Jumping head first into the suicidal thoughts tonight, aren't we baby?" Their voice made your heart nearly skip, but the tears along the corner of your eyes were hot enough to keep you grounded.

"I'm serious."

"So am I." It felt like a joke to them, your brow furring and teeth gritting almost seeming to be heard by them over the phone. "Did you even read the message on the wall?"

"The writing?" You questioned, eyes finding the marker written words along the wall again. "It's fading."

"It's been there for a few years now."

A junior, or a senior.

"Do I really need to tell it to you straight? Can't you read it for yourself?" You could hear the smile on their face by now, even if a box that changes their voice was held over their lips.

You wanted to speak every syllable you could make out before they could say anything else, but they were already ahead of you.

"A disclaimer from left to right: A sexual experience that ends in demise. One you'll never forget, and no one else will either!"

You sat quietly, reading along with them until you realized just what you had called into. From first glance, the number seemed to be from someone who had once been in your position. Sitting in the abandoned dorm's bathroom stall crying your eyes out, up to your neck in the negatives of life and school, and so miserable that you just wanted one person to speak to that understands.

"I didn't read that part." You spoke just above a whisper.

"Let me guess: You thought this was just a suicide hotline? Someone to listen to your problems and give you advice or the answers you're looking for, maybe even some hope?" They couldn't hide the laughter in their voice, almost cherishing your innocence and stupidity. "Someone who would make you leave the call feeling better about things?"

"Is that not what you do?"

You could hear them losing their patience, the huff before they spoke seeming to make your head rush. "Read the fine print again."

Sexual. This hotline was for sex. But why was suicide mentioned?

"Are you a guy?" The question to you seemed so small and quick, but they weren't playing short.

"Is that your preference? Men?"

"Why do you ask that?"

"The sexual part, baby." Their voice didn't grow faint for a second, almost as if they held the phone even closer to the voice box to make things more apparent. "It's the 90's, you could be into anyone these days."

"So, you are a man." A conclusion, and his laughter on the other end.

"I can only provide dick. Such a shame, isn't it?" You almost couldn't help the cackle that left you, his interest peaking.

"Why were you crying?" Finally, he seemed sincere.

"Bad day."

"One of many in this school."

"You're a student?"

But his shortness made itself up in other bits—like now, when he ignores your dig into his personal life.

"Do you understand who you've called?" He seemed to teeter on his sanity, voice raising a volume higher than before to make his point. "What I am going to need from you now?"

"Don't hotlines have consensual guidelines?"

"I'm no normal hotline." His teeth sounded gritted, his patience leaving him fully. "You dialed the number." His voice returned soft, his sing-songy tone almost mocking. "You even pressed the dial button. And here you are, clueless."

"C-Clueless? How does this even work? You feed some sick person a bunch of nonsense until they do what you ask?"

"Have I asked you to do anything for me?"

You almost had to rethink the entire conversation, but he had never truly pried so much. Even now, minutes into the conversation, you could hang up and move on. Maybe even call a real hotline.

"Let me guess, you're considering hanging up?

"What if I do?"

"That would only piss me off, baby. Think harder. How can I be so sure of this working?"

Your mind was blank, only listening to his robotic voice in your ears like a guide.

"I don't understand."

"Sex for a faked suicide." He cackled, speaking slowly. "That's who you called. You set yourself up, all because you want to die so badly. Wouldn't you prefer to go out shaking and orgasming than cold and lifeless?"

"How do you know what I want?"

"Sitting in that lonesome bathroom crying all night isn't going to solve any of your problems. But talking to me, letting me take control of your life and your fate could." He spoke rapidly, like gun-fire—as if he had been waiting a long time to say these things to someone who was dumb enough to call. "Stall three from the door, right?"

The conversation turned predatory, his voice growing darker and shorter as he spoke on.

"Look at that—" He said the three words just above a whisper, your shaking body listening like the world was in slow motion. "I can even see your shoes beneath the door."

It was a dream, you felt like you weren't conscious as you noticed the swaying black dress cut roughly at the end. One that of the grim reaper, or better known to your town as the outfit of the Ghostface killer.

"P-Please…"

"Please what?" You could hear his grin, could feel his energy through the door and through the mask he wore like it was a fire. "Tell me what you want, baby."

"I-I can't…"

"Want me to make it go away?" His voice returned to the annoyed tone it sometimes held, a tilt of the Ghostface mask letting you see the white face through the crack of the door towards side of the lock.

"How?" Your voice was a whisper, but in such an empty space, the bathroom seemed to echo the word off every wall.

"Tell me you want me." His voice was stern. "Tell me you want me to do it."

"I-I want you to—" Your voice shook. "d-do what?"

"To fuck you. And then to let you go."

Every racing thought has brought you here. Every mention of wanting to end your life, negative thoughts in your mind like they lived there—it all carried you to this one, unhinged solution.

"And if I say no?"

It was the loudest sound in so long, the clash of the pager against the crack of the door where you could once see his mask peeking through. Even with a squint of your eyes, you knew the phone number across the screen was your cell number.

"I know who you are." Another smile behind his mask, a hefty breath through the voice box, and the killer seemed to be in heaven. "I'll kill you either way. So, why not agree to the fun part?"

The tears falling down your face had grown hotter as you shook in fear, splashing onto the tiled floor of the old bathroom in tandem with a dripping faucet. As everything grew silent, and your mind fell even quieter—you spoke.

"I want you to do it."

"Where do you want it done?" That rough tone again, he wanted quick answers.

"I-In my dorm."

"Live alone, huh?"

He pulled the pager back, slipping it into his pocket and pressing his hand against the lock of the door to feel the coin-slot ridge. All it needed was a turn, and then you were all his.

"How do you like to be fucked?" This was clearly his favorite question, a light tone of excitement in his voice as the dark eyes of the mask peered through the crack of the door once more.

"D-Deep. It's better that way." You spoke in cut words, still shaking as you heard his breathing stutter from what you said. "I like to feel e-everything."

"Everything?" He repeated, only the question was rhetoric. "I'll make you feel everything."

And there it was again, that rise in his voice that told you he was up to something. With so little words being spoken, you could only make out his movements—and without skipping a beat, you knew just what he was doing.

A clean knife prodded into the line of the lock outside of the door. A safety feature added to help those outside get in when necessary, even if it was against the safety of the one inside. You could hear the sharp object click in, turning until you saw the lock slip from inside the wall back into the door. And just as the thin door squealed open, you found yourself face to face with death.

"This—" The robotic voice was somehow louder with the door open, a short step into the single stall making you shake more from his presence. "isn't your dorm room, is it?"

Your head shook rapidly, going along with what he said in order to not cause any harm to yourself. You wanted to scream, every fiber of your being truly wanted to—but you knew the knife in his hand would slice your throat with ease if you did.

With every sexual experience comes the part where your stomach is twisting in anticipation, such as now.

"Then let's go there, shall we?" He spoke kindly, a façade making your body ache with the idea that he's not all that bad, as he offered you his gloved hand.

The fabric of his glove was thick, enough to keep blood or any liquids from soaking in and staining. Your hand cupped his palm, his fingers taking hold of yours with a tight grip. Just as it crossed your mind again, that he's not so bad, your neck was met with the sharp metal blade.

"This is how this goes. We walk out, hand-in-hand—all romantic like—and we make a b-line for your dorm room. Any attempt to run or get help, and you die on the spot."

"O-Okay…" The knife trailed the skin of your throat, begging to press into your flesh and retrieve some reaction from you that's pure pain. But the man seemed to linger his touch lower, his free hand falling upon your waist like it had been there before.

He was stern, uncaring of your tears being wiped away by your own touch, and most certainly rushed as he pulled you forward at a fast pace. "Good."

You had almost forgotten the journey you normally made out into the abandoned dorm. Lined off with caution tape, and only one door that allowed you in and out without being seen—the eeriness of the building being so quiet and stuck in time was just as scary as the killer walking you along its halls.

"Take it easy." The voice box over his mouth seemed to click with his words, sounding faulty as he pressed you forward and out the door of the old building. "This won't take long."

There were thumps and bumps all across the ground as you walked by housing holding sorority parties. The man's grip tightened every time you walked by someone. Anyone getting particularly close made you cling to him in a loving way. Anything to make you appear normal. Anything to keep you alive right now.

"Walk slower." The louder music was coming from your own dorm, a party that had started long before you made a move to the abandoned dorm still going strong. "Costume party. What idiots."

He was right, a sea of costumes immediately melting the two of you into the party like you had been there the whole time. From pulls on your waist, to jolts of your body forward to rush you into corners, you had finally gotten through the most packed floors and into your dorm room.

The cool air made your skin rush with goosebumps, a moment in time seeming to stop everything as you spun to face the masked man. He was skilled, clicking your door shut and locking it—all with the knife he once held to your throat returning to his hand.

You could hear his voice box click, hear the thumping of your own heart in your ears almost louder than his voice.

"This is where you want to die?" He asked, pointing the shiny knife at your small bed in the middle of the room. "Right here? On your own blankets?"

You bit at your tongue, eyes growing glossy as he took a step towards you every time he spoke. It wasn't until he was right in front of you, the faintest hint of his cologne moving into your nose, that you could even comprehend what was happening.

Tears seemed to pour slower, but your body needed more air. You seemed to stifle, sniffling in deep breaths and trying to swallow it all down into your lungs as fast as you could.

One sniff, and you felt nothing. Another, and you smelled something familiar. One more deep breath, and that hard-to-miss smell of someone you know finally broke through.

The white mask was tight on his head, held in place as he tilted his head slightly in curiosity. Your sniffling had stopped, glossy eyes matching with what would be his glowing brown irises within the eyes of the mask.

"M-Mickey?"

He didn't move. He didn't have to. It was simply meant to be—that you found out.

"Now you really can't live after this, baby."

He spoke with such confidence, his knifeless hand raising the Ghostface mask up and off his head until his chiseled face was in your view. His wide teeth, fang-like canine in your sight, and it was truly your fellow student Mickey Altieri.

You took in his clean appearance, the sweat dripping down his temples and jawline from the thick mask he had worn for nearly an hour now. His outfit was just the same as the costume shown on the news for the last few years—banned, then unbanned, and now favored by many.

"I finally got you right where I want you." The man had a squeak to his voice when he was excited, a Cheshire grin on his face. It all made sense now, how you knew his emotions even without being able to see him before.

You wanted to breathe, suck in his scent and reassure yourself that he would never do something like this. The lighthearted film major with an affliction for gore and horror—you should have known he was a red flag deep down.

But his lips attached to your own, moved to taste you with his tongue and suck the oxygen from your lungs like he could steal your soul that way. His lips tasted metallic from the voice box that had been pressed against his mouth most of the night. He swayed you side to side until his arms were wrapped securely around your waist and there was no way you could leave him.

And when the breath was finally returned to you, you could truly see the craziness in his bright irises and blown pupils.

"Tell me you want me." His lips pecked at yours between his sentences. "Tell me you want me to fuck you. Just like before!"

His pink tongue poked out between his lips to press into your skin, lapping at the dried and salty tears along your cheeks all the way down to your collarbones. There, you felt his teeth. Pearly whites leaving a small bruise on your neck as he awaited your magic words.

This was it. There was nothing you could think of past this. And there was no running far enough away from him.

"M-Mickey." He halted at his name being said slowly and softly, his eyes turning warm as they peered up at you from below your chin. His gentle smile, the one that made your heart skip a few times before you knew he was capable of this, it still gave you butterflies. "I want you to be the one."

"Oh—" His body language was confused, but his eyes were wild. Looking between your gaze and the mark he left on you, you could see him hesitate from reaching to grab his knife and cut you right there. "Oh—fuck, I thought I'd never here you say those words."

His hands were shaking, leaving the thin fabric of his costume where he rubbed his sides to grab hold of you again. His fingers were tight against your clothing, pulling at whatever he could get off of you right then and there.

It was his sense of giddiness that almost made you forget he planned to kill you afterwards. How his tongue stuck between his aligned teeth every time he saw more skin. The animalistic sounds he made as he licked and kissed at you until his weight pressed you into the mattress.

"You taste just how I imagined." The man cooed, losing all of the cool and collective he once had with his voice box.

His hand slipped down, the knife covered by his costume now poking into your side as he felt at the wetness growing between your legs. His coated fingertip raised towards his mouth, your juices making his eyes clenched shut in euphoria as he moaned.

You didn't want to admit that his fingers dipping back down against you felt good, or that how he appeared now—so out of his mind from your taste and your unclothed body beneath him alone—made your head spin. The man had been tailing you all along, stalking you until he knew what headspace you were in, that you would soon call his hotline and make yourself his victim.

It was meant to be creepy, but as his hand took your wrist and pressed your cupped hand against his hard length—you couldn't regain the sense to feel scared.

"Look at what you do to me." His head hung, eyes staring at you darkly as he used his fingers to press your hand into him until he was grinding against your touch. You could feel the stain of precum spurting through the fabric of both his underwear and the costume, sucking in a deep breath when you felt him twitch when you rubbed him on your own accord.

The man was going insane—even if he was already previously.

"I want you." He groaned, his weakened neck laying his head onto your shoulder as you kept your rhythm against his clothed cock. "I want to feel your insides."

"Then why don't you?" He hissed at your words, his hips thrusting into your hold until he was rutting against you. If he didn't slow down now, he wouldn't fuck you like you want him to. "Mickey."

His name made his hips stutter and stop, eyes finding yours again. It was almost like he forgot why he was here, so drunk on you that he just wanted to fill you up. You could see him waver, bite down on his tongue, and then be sent into overdrive.

Mickey moved quickly, pulling at your hips until your body was facing flat against the mattress and your head was buried against your pillow. You could hear his costume being ripped in certain places, feel his body heat closing in on your backside—but what was most appalling was the feeling of his fingers pulling your underwear down your legs until they hung at your ankles.

It was almost rewarding, feeling his tip at your wet entrance. The saliva from his mouth had drooled enough onto his fingers when he was collecting your wetness to add to it all, and every inch of him that slipped into you made a squelching sound.

"Fuuuck—fuck, fuck, fuck!" His words got louder and louder, his cock being held by your walls trying so hard not to fill you with his cum just from one pump in. Mickey was at a loss, your body heating up just right until your warmth made him feel alive.

"This is what I wanted." His motion to pull out was cut off by his tiny rut back into you, just a small feeling of needing to fuck you fast dissipating when he remembered you like it rough. His head fell into your neck when he slammed into you harshly, feeling you clench around him like never before. "This is all I wanted…"

"M-Mickey." You cried with his words, short but sweet to him as he filled you up only to pull out and thrust back in with such vigor that your entire bed was shaking. "Do what you want to me, Mickey."

His hair was a mess, the discarded Ghostface mask being shaken off the side of the bed from his hard thrusts and landing on the floor going unnoticed by the two of you. So lost in each other, everything seemed to slip away.

If only he had you sooner.

The hand at your waist lifted, the weight of his body holding you down into the mattress and giving him enough space to fuck you deep and fast. You could hardly form words, and he couldn't make any other sounds except moans.

It wasn't until his free hand pulled at your hair, enough to raise your head to let you speak, that you remembered the entire premise of this transaction.

"Do you like me now?!" He asked with a boiling anger in his voice but a rumbling orgasm approaching. "All those times you turned me down. And you could have had this."

"I-Is this how you do it?" You spoke through broken cries and gritted teeth. "You wait for some poor girl to call your hotline, whaling into the phone about wanting to die. All so you could talk her into letting you fuck her first before you kill her?"

"The perfect way to die." He groaned, pressing himself deeper into your walls as they clenched around him sporadically in the race towards your orgasm.

You could feel his hot seed start to fill you, his thrusts running messy just as your body shook and went firm. Orgasms taking over both of you at the same time, you wanted nothing more now than to find a way out of this.

"Mickey?" His hand was still in your hair, but your head had fallen back onto the pillow. "I-I just—"

Your skull felt his strength, head lifted back up from the cool pillow with the sharp knife on your throat once more. You could feel drips of blood falling down your neck and staining the pillow.

"Just want to stay alive?" Mickey had returned to his unhinged stature, almost as if it had never left him for a second. "Baby, baby, baby." He cooed, his thumb pressing into the side of your cheek with his fist that held the knife. "I got my end of the deal…"

"Please—"

"You've gotta get yours." The knife was piercing, the blade having been recently sharpened finely until it could cut through almost anything. As you felt more blood leaving your neck, you could hear his soft voice in your ears—almost as if he were God himself speaking to you during your final breath.

"And just so you know—" There it was, one last time, that huge Cheshire grin in your peripheral. "You were my first."

© leatherfaceish — all rights reserved. do not plagiarize, repost, or translate any of my works without my permission. do not post my content on other sites, especially claiming them as your own! reblogs and feedback are seriously appreciated <3

#mickey altieri #mickey altieri smut #mickey altieri x reader #mickey altieri imagine #mickey altieri scenario #ghostface #ghostface x reader #ghostface smut #timothy olyphant x reader #timothy olyphant ghostfact #timothy olyphant smut #timothy olyphant imagines #timothy olyphant scenarios #scream 2 smut #scream smut

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mazeinthemiroh · 1 year

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together, we watch the sun rise.

Genre: Fluff, a bit of crack

Word Count: 1k

Requested?: Yes

Synopsis: Jeongin decides to go on a trip with you despite having to wake up extra early. And, you know what? It was all worth it.

Warnings: None

A/N: This one's short but sweet. It's very much a spring fic because I am sooooo ready for spring and I'm trying to manifest warmer weather because i am currently shivering IN MY OWN HOUSE. anyways, rant over. i hope you enjoy this fluffy fic :]

Jeongin would never have thought he would have the motivation to get up in the early hours of the morning. But when it came to you, he didn't seem to care half as much.

"Come on, it'll be fun," you said with a big grin as you wiggled your eyebrows at him, hoping that the little gesture would persuade him.

"What's in it for me?" He teased as he crossed his arms over his chest. He knew he was going to say yes to you because, of course, he would never turn down an opportunity to spend time with you. But that didn't mean he was going to give in that easily.

"Oh, gee, I don't know, how about spending one-on-one quality time with your partner?" Your hands slid to your hips as you jokingly glared at him, "but hey, if that's not a good enough reason maybe you should find a new partner."

Jeongin chuckled and rolled his eyes at your dramatics, "I'm only joking, you idiot!" He grabbed your wrist and pulled you closer to him, "I would love to come."

And so here you both were, driving out of the city and on your way to the countryside before the sun had even risen. No, Jeongin would have never thought he would wake up this early at all. But he was with you, so he needed to trust the process. And so he let himself

Although his eyes were tempted to close as you sat in the driver's seat, eyes focused on the road as the soft, chill playlist sounded through the car, he resisted going to sleep. He didn't want to be too tired for what was about to come.

Time seemed to dissolve and the view soon changed from a city scattered with buildings and lights, to the dark countryside, sprinkled with hills and greenery as far as you could see.

"We're here... sort of," you said through a yawn as you parked up. Jeongin's eyes scanned the outside of his car.

You both were, indeed, in the middle of nowhere. Jeongin didn't know whether to feel terrified of his new environment or relieved for being free from its business.

Getting out of the car, you grabbed each other's hands and set off on your new journey, not quite at your final destination yet.

Using your phones as flashlights, you watched your step as you began to ascend a very tall hill. The sky was barely beginning to show signs of light, remaining dark as you trudge your way up. It took some walking at first. Actually... it took a lot of walking. It was steep too. Walking up a tremendously big hill did not look easy. If you were by yourself, you probably would've given up. But neither of you felt the strain in your legs or the burn in your calf muscles because both of you were distracted by each other's company and the conversation you shared. Travelling as a pair felt less like a want and more of a need. You couldn't imagine enjoying yourself any other way.

And then you both made it, to the very top. You collapsed on the grass and spread yourself out like a starfish, trying to catch all the breath you had lost on the ascend. Jeongin plopped down next to you, also trying to regain his breath, but chuckling lightly at your exhausted state.

After a handful of minutes gone by, both of your breathing finally evened out. This was when you could fully appreciate the scenery before you. The countryside, with its rolling hills and scattered trees, places to explore in the forests and farms and fields of flowers. Over the great expanse of greenery, you could see the city from where you and Jeongin just fled. It felt weird seeing it like this; above and away from it all at once.

The sky got ever so lighter.

"What a view," you gasped, eyes fixated on the beauty before you.

"Yeah," Jeongin breathed out dreamily, only he wasn't looking at the view.

He was looking straight at you.

Feeling his gaze, you turned to face him, brushing his arm lightly with your hand as you felt your cheeks heat up.

"You're not here to gawk at me, Mister!" You laughed playfully, feeling your heart flutter as Jeongin grinned shyly.

"Hey, you're my only view~" he said playfully, grabbing your waist and pulling you closer to him on the grass. You tried to object but you couldn't help but melt into his softness.

"I like the view right now~" you sang obnoxiously loud in his ear, making him wince slightly.

"Gah, Y/N, you ruined the romantic moment!"

"Was that your attempt at romance?"

You both burst into laughter. You were convinced you had woken up a couple of livestock that minded their own business from the bottom of the hill. Certainly woken up a few sheep because your laughter bounced off the hills and ran through the quiet, morning countryside.

The sky got noticeably lighter. The moment you had both been waiting for.

"Look!" You interrupted the fit of laughter as you point to the orange eruption in the sky: the sun was rising.

The pair of you grew quiet as you set together, hand in hand, staring at the great expanse of the sky. There were little swirled clouds that twirled like smoke, caressing the face of the sun as it rose slowly. With each passing second, the sky would change ever so slightly. Dark orange to light orange to a peachy colour, pinks tickling the white clouds that rose with the sun. Then a yellow set in, and soon the sky had a creamy hue, the sky getting lighter and lighter still.

This very natural recurring earthly moment for some reason felt very small and intimate, as if it were a performance for just you and Jeongin to watch.

He turned to you, the smile on his face soft as he kissed your cheek, making you turn to him and return the kiss, this time on his lips.

Why did everything feel so calm? So perfect? You sighed into the kiss as you released his hand, tangling your own hand in his hair. Your mouths moved in perfect synchronisation, slow and easy.

He was the first to pull away, just to look into your eyes as they sparkled in the new sunlight.

"We shouldn't definitely do this again."

taglist: @hearts4sungie, @seokshineswiftie, @alyszaen, @jtrstp, @a-wandering-stay, @leeknowww, @hyungenie5, @hanstan127, @strayteez3staner

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densi-mber · 5 months

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It’s Tradition After All

A/N: Here’s a little season 3 Christmas party AU. Inspired by prompt two on this list.

***

“Ok, I found the tree and ornaments,” Deeks announced, appearing from the storage area with a large trash bag and a box that jangled.

“Great, can you put them over there?” Nell directed, pointing across the room. As usual, she’d taken on the self-appointed job of turning the office of special projects into a winter wonderland.

“You got it. You want me to start putting the tree together?”

“No, Eric’s going to do it. Thanks though.”

“Gotcha. Let me know if you need anything else,” he offered. On his way back to the bullpen, he found Kensi standing on her desk, stretching up to reach something. Deeks tilted his head, frowning.

“Are you—are you pulling down the mistletoe?” he asked in outrage. Kensi jerked, looking back at him momentarily before continuing with her task.

“Yes,” she answered crisply.

“Why?”

“Because, it’s a stupid, outdated tradition,“ she started. Getting on the very tip of her toes, she hooked a finger around the ribbon securing the mistletoe to the wall behind her desk. She tugged it free with a triumphant sound, and Deeks automatically stepped forward to brace her as she hopped down from the desk.

He felt the warmth of her skin through her shirt for the few seconds it took her to find her balance and turn to face him.

“And you’re not going to trick me into kissing you,” Kensi finished, shaking the offending object in his face.

“Kensi, I did not put that mistletoe up there,” he insisted with a chuckle. She scoffed, folding her arms over her chest.

“Oh really? Then who else would put it directly above my desk?”

“You forget that as lovely as Eric and Nell are, they can also be extremely odd.” Kensi stilled at that, something that Deeks couldn’t quite read crossing her face. “Look, how about I promise that I won’t try to trick you into getting under that mistletoe at all tonight?”

He held out his hand, giving his best pleading look. Kensi sighed, and slapped the mistletoe into his palm.

“Fine. But don’t even think of hanging it above my desk again.”

***

True to his word, Deeks didn’t make a single attempt to get Kensi under any of the mistletoes (yes, there were multiples). He did end up under one with Nell, who dramatically leaned back in his arms for him to peck her on the cheek. When Callen had later pointed out that Deeks and Sam had fallen prey, Sam had glared at Deeks, taken a step away, and emphatically stated,

“No way in hell.”

Now Kensi stood by the snack table with Nell, chatting about Eric’s new business plans. Kensi nodded along when Nell paused, eyes once again gravitating towards Deeks.

He seemed to be in the middle of some story, his hands waving expansively as he spoke. She saw Sam smiling reluctantly, shaking his head at Deeks’ antics. As much as Sam pretended Deeks annoyed him, even he couldn’t resists his charms all the time. It seemed no one could.

“And then Eric’s going to put a swimming pool in the middle so his employees can go for a swim on their lunch breaks.”

“That’s a good idea,” Kensi murmured distractedly.

“Kensi.”

“Hmm?” Kensi whipped her head around, finding Nell staring at her with a knowing smirk.

“Something grab your attention?” Nell asked innocently.

“No, uh, I was just thinking we better get started on the gift exchange before Sam gets annoyed with him,” Kensi excused herself, hoping it would be enough to distract Nell from her own lapse in attention.

“Oh, they look like they’re doing ok,” Nell observed, peering over Kensi’s shoulder. “I put a lot of brandy in the egg nog.“

“Yeah, I noticed.” Kensi held up her half-empty glass, then slanted a wry glance at Nell.

Nell just spread her hands wide in response. “I’m just an elf spreading good cheer. And while we’re on the topic, could you go deliver this to Deeks for me?”

“What, elves don’t make house calls?”

“No, you’ve been standing over her with me for the last hour and I’m trying to help you mingle,” Nell explained bluntly. “Now go on. I need to make more egg nog.”

Shaking her head, Kensi took the present Nell had retrieved from who knows where, and headed for Deeks. Callen had joined the group since she last looked, and from the sound of it, was goading Sam about something.

“Oh, and there’s my lovely partner,” Deeks said as she approached. Based on the extra twinkle in his eyes and empty cup in his hand, he’d enjoyed a little Christmas cheer himself.

“And she comes bearing gifts.” Kensi held out the present. “It’s from Nell.”

Deeks took it with a grin, giving the box a little shake. “Ooh, sounds expensive,” he joked.

Before he could get the lid off, Callen interrupted him with a raised finger.

“Nobody move, you’re both under the mistletoe,” he said, grinning when Sam made an exasperated sound.

“Kensi, I did not plan this,” Deeks insisted nervously.

“No, I know you didn’t.” Looking over her shoulder, she glared at Nell, who raised her glass innocently, and mouthed what looked like, “it’s tradition”.

“Meddler,” Kensi muttered.

“Well, go on,” Callen encouraged her. “One of you has to make a move.”

“Callen—” he protested softly.

“No, it’s ok,” Kensi said. And then, she didn’t know what possessed her. Maybe it was the egg nog, or her competitive nature. Or the simple way Deeks stayed true to his word. Before she could think it through too thoroughly, she grabbed either side of Deeks’ head, and tipped her chin up towards his. She had a split second to see his eyes widen in surprise before their lips met.

It was a brief kiss, close-mouthed, and hardly the most passionate, but Kensi’s lips tingled and she was distinctly aware of how nice the softness of his lips felt on hers.

She released Deeks and dropped back down on her heels, lifting her chin defiantly. Deeks stared back at her, an unfathomable look in his eyes as his tongue flicked out to run along his bottom lip.

“All right, Kensi wins,” Callen decided, breaking that silence that fallen around them. “You’re gonna need to step up your game, Sam.”

“For the last time, I’m not kissing any of you,” Sam retorted.

“Kensi, I—” Deeks started to say, but she cut him off again.

“It’s just a tradition, Deeks. Like you said.”

“Right,” he murmured, not stopping her when she turned away.

Yes, it was tradition. And if her lips still tingled, burned, with a the pleasant memory of their kiss, no one needed to know that.

#densimber 7.0 #densimber 2023 #densimber day 21 #ncis la fanfiction #marty deeks #kensi blye #densi #au #ncis la #by ejzah

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persephones-journey · 1 year

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hey girl, idk if you're still doing the xmas prompts, if yes, I'm thinking thots about Harwin/reader (what a surprise) and “I’ll let you sit on my knee.” one because...yeah 🥲 I loved the previous one so here I am again simping for our man sgshsjskjsk

Simping for Harwin?

This guy:

Can’t relate…. I’m lying, you know I’m lying….

I am so sorry this took me a while. I was sick and then I got distracted and... My bad. Totally my bad.

But I hope this is worth the wait.

Warning: contains some smut, ie: fingering

You had been on your feet all day. The holiday celebrations were in full swing and it seemed like there was a million things to do and instead of getting smaller the list just kept getting bigger. You barely heard the door open and the footsteps of your adoring husband, Harwin as he walked into the room.

“What? No welcome home kiss?” he asked softly.

You startled and turned around. He was standing behind you wearing the red Santa suit his work had gotten for him. You laughed as you looked at him. He had taken off the pillow he had stuffed under there hours before. He smiled and walked over to her.

“Come on, don't you have a kiss for Santa?” he asked.

You laughed. “You brought clothes with you to change,” you said as you wrapped your arms around him.

He smiled. “I did but then I thought about how we could play a little,” he said as he pressed his lips to yours.

You kissed him back and smirked a little. Your fingers played with his curls. “I don't know how I feel about that,” you said.

“Come on,” he kissed along your jaw, “I'll let you sit on my knee,” he whispered in your ear.

The tone he used, low and deep, immediately turned you on. You sighed and moaned slightly and felt Harwin smile more against your skin.

“Okay,” you whispered.

You squealed as he lifted you up so your feet dangled above the floor. He carried you further into the room and by the fireplace. He sat in the chair and sat you on his knee. You laughed as he kissed you again, his lips pressed against yours. You felt his hand push up your dress and caress your knee.

“So,” he whispered as he pulled his lips from yours, “what would you like for Christmas?” he asked softly.

You looked into his blue eyes and smiled. “Hmm, I had not given it much thought,” you whisper as you feel his hand run higher up your leg.

“Well, if you had to say one thing, what would you want?” he whispered as he placed soft kisses on your jaw.

Your eyes fluttered close and a moan escaped your lips as his fingers reached your inner thigh. His fingers teased and traced a trail closer to your core and back down again. You felt him smile against your jaw as he kissed lower down your neck.

“Well,” you started, “first, I would ask for a certain husband of mine to not hog the blankets on the bed,” you said.

Harwin sighed. “I have told you before, you have me to keep you warm, why do you need blankets?” he asked as his fingers moved higher up, they pulled on your panties feeling the wet spot there. “All they do is cover your beautiful body from my eyes.”

You sighed and bit your bottom lip to stop another moan from escaping as Harwin's fingers moved your panties aside and stroked your folds that were covered in your slick. Harwin nipped at your ear lobe.

“Do not hold in your moans, love, I want to hear them,” he whispered. “Now, what else do you want for Christmas?” he added.

“I would also like you to finally hang that painting I love,” you answered sighing and moaned as he slipped a finger inside of you.

Harwin hummed and added another finger inside of you. You moaned and buried your face in his curls pulling him closer. Harwin stroked you slowly with his fingers, fucking you by pumping them in and out. You clenched your walls around his fingers wanting more, needing more. Harwin pulled his head away from your neck and pressed a kiss to your lips as his thumb began to rub your clit.

“I promise to do that in the morning,” he muttered as he kissed you over and over and over.

All you could do was whimper against his lips as you felt him slid his fingers deeper inside of you and crook them in a certain way as he stroked that pleasure spot inside of you. His thumb rubbed your clit in slow lazy circles as the coil in your stomach tightened and your legs began to tremble.

“Anything else?” he asked softly as he nipped your lips.

You moaned and hummed as his fingers brought you closer and closer to the brink. You nuzzled your nose against his and breathed in his woodsy scent with the hint of cinnamon. You ached to have his cock but for the moment all you could focus on was his fingers giving you pleasure.

“My love, anything else you want?” he asked again smiling as he knew exactly what his fingers were doing to you.

“You,” you managed to breath out as the coil tightened more and more. You gripped his suit tightly in your hands pulling him closer. He smiled and pressed his lips against yours. “I want your cock,” you answered.

Harwin laughed and kissed you again. You moaned his name as the coil finally broke and pleasure washed over your body. Your eyes fluttered closed and you sighed into Harwin's mouth. Your whole body trembled so several moments and your walls clenched around his fingers as he continued to stroke you through your climax. You slumped against him and he kissed you again and again.

“Just my cock then?” he asked teasingly.

You smacked his chest but your hit barely had any strength behind it. You opened your eyes and looked at him shaking your head. You felt him slip his fingers from you. You watched as he brought his fingers to his mouth and licked them clean. You whimpered.

“Take me to bed now,” you ordered.

“Whatever my wife desires,” he answered as he held you close and stood with you in his arms bridal style. He winked at you. “Now, aren't you happy you sat on my lap.”

You laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips. You would never admit it, but you were happy you sat on his lap.

You were happy for him.

#harwin strong #harwin strong/you #harwin strong fic #christmas prompt #@divinepink

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ducknotinarow · 8 months

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@starsandsavages “Heeeeyyyy, Mikey.” Leo offers him a warm smile, rubbing the back of his neck. “I was wondering if you’re not busy, if you wanted to keep me company for awhile? I promise, absolutely no training involved.” He holds his hands up before his younger brother could protest. “I just need a distraction.” ( 2k12 bc I don’t think I’ve hardly send your boy anything uwu but also for the thing part of it. You’ll get more later! )

| Muse Interaction

Mikey was maybe the last of his brothers and the least likely of his brothers to go for alone time. Leo liked to train or mediate alone. Donnie liked to hole up in his lab by himself. And Raph well Mikey was sure Raph just sort of liked to be alone time to time. Mikey could spend sometime alone himself seemed to be one of those times when everyone was just off doing their own thing after all. Mikey himself was just lounging in his room hanging over the side of his bed well he watched crognard. Once again. Feet held up above him idly letting them. Swing at the knee as he let his fingers drumb against hi plastron. Wide smile across his beak, he fully understood why Leo got as he did when it came to space hero’s now because he was the very same when it came to his own favorite show Crognard the Barbarian. But, Mikey still insisted that his show was far better than Leo’s. And yes that was a very, very biased reasoning on his end.

Mikey had maybe seen every episode a number of time but there was always something to get out of every rewatch as well to him. Animations errors r small hints to things that came up later. It was enough to hold his attention for hours at times. Least till his door started to creak as it was opened. Mikey was guilty of breaking into all his brothers rooms with out asking or care. Mikey wasn’t really one to take issue f someone did it to him though. Likely cause he didn’t for it in the first place. “Sup bro” Mikey simply states as his eyes never once leave the screen. He sort of had a hunch it was Leo. Raph was a loud mouth after all, and Donnie didn’t really come to his room so it had to be Leo.

“Heeeeyyyy, Mikey.”

Mmm Leo sounds weird? Mikey thought as he let his legs drop tp flop down on to the bed before he turned to face his oldest brothers. “Yeeeeahhh?” He mimicked back t copy how Leo spoke just then himself. Moving to sit up now, which let the blood return to where it should be after having been forced toward his head the whol time he was busy watching his show. Something just didn’t seem right, Leo look weird and nervous which sure Leo could be both weird and nervous but still.

“I was wondering if you’re not busy, if you wanted to keep me company for awhile? I promise, absolutely no training involved.”

“Oh good cause I’m still healing from this morning’s training Raph didn’t go easy on me today.” Mikey whine a little, playing into the baby brother privilege he had. Especially with Leo of them all. It was mostly for Leo’s sake though it was pretty clear something was bugging his oldest brother. So of course Mikey simply smiled at Leo as he slightly rubbed the back of his shell so to play into the soreness still there after Raph took him out of the staring session. Egging it on it was hardly even sore as is after all. “Course I don’t mind dude but? Why? I mean I love hanging out with just you don’t really well ask?”

Leo, well any of them never really had to ask as is. Mikey wouldn’t care if they just came in and chilled with him.

“I just need a distraction.”

”distraction uh?” Mikey repeats. Leo did seem well not his usual collected self right now. Mikey just nodded his head if Leo wanted to or need to talk he could but right now what Leo wanted was t be distracted. For Leo that said a lot though, he wasn’t one to often avoid his issues. But if you needed a good distraction? Then Mikey was in fact the best turtle to turn to. Bright smile back as he jumped up to his feet.

“Oh! Ya know I have the best answer for this Le!” Mikey states in an excited state, starting to bounce on his bed a few times as he looked to the bookcase they rested on the wall. Let the springs do the work to get him higher and higher with each bounce. Till he grabbed for what he was looking for. “I was in the middle of watching Space Hero’s, the classic series” Mikey pointed out firstly “I’m getting to your favorite well one of them.” Letting his legs moving to fold in as he let the last bounce end and land down on to the mattress. Holding out the volume from the box set. “Wanna watch it? Oh better we can watch my favorite Crognad episode and you favorite space hero’s! Then we can compare them!” Mikey went on to offer.

Of course, Mikey wanted to ask wanted to see what was wrong but right now? That wasn’t what Leo wanted or even needed. Leo needed to have a moment to not think about what was on his mind. So that was what Mikey was going to give his brother. Peace. He moved to pat the bed so Leo could join him as he went to find the remote in his room. “Cause I got some notes for why my show is better that I could say before so best be ready to lose the argument this time!”

Mikey added in before he simply smiled over to Leo softly, a small little inviting towards them. “Side ya never gotta ask Leo. I love hanging out with you. Like the most really too.”

#Muse| hamato michaelanglo #starsandsavages #[ take a chill pill or two and call me in the morning - starsandsavages]#muse interaction #ic reply #stay queue #((time to get Mikey involved too uwu))

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goodthoughts001 · 1 year

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RAKING it in ! Not yet but it's coming to a table near you. Online Casino Malaysia

Quick update on my break from Online Casino Malaysia. I'm back playing intermittently and really find that I’ve improved as a player in every aspect. Tilt still exists within and can do it's devilish damage but it's under control, hand reading skills have improved 10 fold and my luck is probably above average at the minute.

Mmm keep looking at the £25/50 10 seated NL on betfair it looks soooo juicy, however the odd multi and no more than 3 x 6-pacs a day for the moment. I say no more than 3 because I tend to find that more than 2hrs is too much at the poker table when focussing on a game. Multi’s I tend to not take notice too much of the table before the 1st couple of hours and music, TV etc are all good distractions.

At the minute Strictly (NO CASH) poker although I’m like an addict that thinks hey I’m clean I could play a bit of cash now I know I’m not ready yet; still e few creases to iron out. Losing 19k in a short period of time is a pisser but the manner in which it is lost is where I have learned a few things. Firstly, and undeniably even in the cold light of day I was on a miserable run of bad luck and bad cards (fact). However, secondly as a result I was not playing appropriate poker and one hand springs to mind which was the pinnacle of my tilty crap play.

Quick reflection coming:

I had witnessed dozens of premiums being busted and was pretty pissed to say the least, not alcohol BTW just playing pissed off (not good). I’m playing the 10/20 NL 10 seated cash and winning about £1500 so I have with my buy-in £3500 on the table and in late position I get dealt AA. Yes the best preflop starting hand possible, I remember when I got it thinking ooooh dear, anyway everyone folds round to ‘Rhaegar’ a Rock/solid player who frequents the Crypto tables who raises 4 x BB to £80. I feel I have to name the player here so that anyone who knows him will know what a Muppet play I made here. I smooth call and no other takers, see a flop 6 7 J Rhaegar bets £120 and I’m not messing here I re-raise to £240 to see where I am LOL. Rhaegar re-raises to £800 and I think SET SET SEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEET and proceed to re-raise all-in for all my stack – my AA will not be beat, it cant be beat, it’s lost too many times! Rhaegar calls with 6 7 and his 2 pair stand up as quick as I stand up to bang my head against the wall.

What have I learned from this and all the bad beats, A LOT. A lot about me in particular and a lot about poker which won’t be much to most but to me is a lot. I learned that OK I suffered terrible bad luck on occasion but had I not tilted the money I saved could have helped me earn it back. I lost 3k I didn’t need to here which is 1.5 buyin’s on 10/20 and if I add it all up I could have probably played through the bad run and came out on top like the top players do. Just an insight to my thinking here since having time out but obviously I could write forever with the amount of thinking I’ve been doing.

Back to now:

This blog has been a real reflection of my poker playing career and being able to look back on previous posts is a real eye opener and insight into the sometimes crazy view I have of events, especially when I was in 'Zombie' mode. In 'Zombie' mode I didn’t think it was tilt, it was everything else in my life the girlfriend, Kids, Dog, someone phoning me whilst in the middle of an important pots everyone but me basically. Playing like a twat was easy, it came natural. I looked for any reason I could to call instead of considering the opposite and well played like a twat. Also, I took the game serious and didn’t like the view one bit TY.

The only reason I have played the last couple of weeks is that a friend told me to check my account I may have some rake back and when I looked I had been credited with £300 so I though Ok I’ll have a dabble like the old days ‘bit of fun’ play. The account now has £3575 in it and I think Toshiwonka is back looking for some scalps!!!

The racehorse I bought MrToshiwonka 2yr old is doing really well and we have entered him for the £200,000 Super sprint @ Newbury in July so fingers crossed I’ll be in the winners enclosure with a bottle of the finest.

Good luck as always to anyone reading and be disciplined! LOOOOL

I would recommend a break to anyone feeling like the games against them it works wonders. I’ve lost a stone of poker weight as well. Only another 4 to go.

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aydaptic · 1 year

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Hey there, lovely author!

this is a follow-up to my AO3 comment on Adapt and Endure [the WebComic], as well as a comment on the written original:

First of all, I am hugely impressed by your work and only write this because I felt like you might appreciate detailed feedback, but felt like the comment section on AO3 might really not be the place for concrit. So, if you rather would not have it, feel free to ignore everything under the dashed line: spoiler -- it's only tiny, tiny things. If you decide to skip: I hope you have a lovely day, and a good weekend :) ! Cheers, Arts

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

WebComic: texture of bodies below neck in Ch 6 My only constructive criticism (as a complete, unskilled layperson!) is on Chapter 6, the bedroom scene -- I feel like the skin texturing below the neck of both characters' bodies is... slightly too smooth, making them look more oiled than just naked to me. it's probably only visible in this kind of lighting (I have no idea how blender works. NONE)(you probably are aware of this)(if yes, please ignore) Original Fic: Tense shifts and some prepositions Also, started the written version and loved it; just noticed (systematically lacking) tense shifts and some (systematically) wrong prepositions, 'pushing up' doors instead of 'open', mostly-- would you be interested in a (post-hoc) beta? I know that this kind of question can go terribly wrong and seem insulting... especially if people are not explicitly asking for beta; this offer is a gamble on my part, hoping that the chance you might find this useful is higher than insulting you by it :/ (Please be aware that this is only written out of appreciation for your work, and that I personally am kind of obsessive about tenses and prepositions, so I'm pretty sure nobody but me minded and /or even noticed.) If your answer to both of the above is along the lines of 'thanks, no thanks' feel free to not answer this, I do not wish to make you uncomfortable!

Hello!

I’m open to constructive criticism -- both on AO3 and the social links listed on my profile there -- so have no fear. It's very sweet that you gave a heads-up, though.

WebComic: Texture of bodies below neck in Ch 6

Well, they’re supposed to be ‘oily!’ They’re sweating after the implied s*x as it can be a very strenuous activity. That said, textures in general are a very technical thing. I don’t have the skills/free time to learn the whole process despite being aware of the basics. Say, if you have a beautiful 3D model, that 3D model is gonna look like garbage unless it has nice textures.

I’m not gonna get into the technical stuff bc it makes even my head explode (...and I’ve spent 5.000+ hours in Blender + am currently taking a 3D/animation bachelor!) Simply put, the body mesh and the face mesh are separate meshes, creating a seam when joined -- naturally, Gav doesn’t have a shirtless model in-game meaning that it’s custom-made (not by me) -- thus a lot of ‘texture blending’ is required between his head and the body. I don’t have the art skills to mess with textures unless it’s small stuff like increasing contrast/brightness/changing overall colors, etc., so I can’t do much there at my current skill level.

Original Fic: Tense shifts and some prepositions

They're known to me, actually. I like it that way even if it sounds odd to others. I’m not a native English speaker, but to my Norwegian ears, it flows anyway. I hope it wasn’t too distracting and took away from the story, though. I once attended an English grammar course and it’s giving me Vietnam flashbacks to even think about it, lol. The most important part for me is to get my stories across, and when possible, have readers learn from them and build my own empathy in the process. I personally don’t mind grammatical errors and such unless it’s completely/close to illegible.

In terms of your suggestion of a beta reader, I’m not insulted at all. It’s nearly impossible to offend me. Constructive criticism is the only way to improve and I like learning about topics I’m interested in. Others have offered to beta read for me in the past, but I’m not big on the concept. I’ve had my work stolen several times before and have major trust issues when it comes to stuff like that.

Either way, thank you so much for reaching out. I hope I cleared a few things up. Feedback is crucial and I welcome it. Both positive and constructive ♥

#Q&A #long post #reed900 #blender #fic: adapt and endure #aschmidts #*aydaptic

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itsapeterthing · 3 years

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Who’s She? || Bucky Barnes

pairing: bucky barnes x doctor!reader

summary: when sam gets injured during a mission and isn’t able to go to a hospital, bucky brings him and natasha to his own home to get cared for by his girlfriend, y/n, who he’s been keeping a secret.

a/n: this is my first time writing for bucky! reblogs and replies are super appreciated! also here i'm going to pretend that bucky didn’t get snapped so you started dating during the blip and natasha didn’t die

word count: 2.9k

warnings: mentions of blood, sam getting shot, fluff

masterlist || request

“Shit.”

He followed the sound of the gunshot to another open room within the warehouse. He watched as the group they had been fighting fled the building, hopping into their trucks and speeding away before he even had the chance to process what was happening in front of him never mind go after them. When the group dispersed out of the room he finally saw what all the commotion had been about- Sam was lying on the floor with Natasha kneeling above him at his side.

“What happened?” Bucky asked, jogging towards where the two of them were in the center of the large, open room.

Natasha looked up, her hands feeling around Sam’s shoulder, blood coating her hands.

“There’s no exit wound.” She told him finally, standing up. “We have to get him out of here.”

Bucky watched as Sam groaned, still lying on the ground, with his hand putting pressure on his shoulder.

“So, what?” Bucky asked her. “We take him to a hospital?”

Nat shook her head. “We weren’t supposed to be here. If we take him to a hospital now... they’ll find out.” She turned back to Sam. “Feel good enough to walk?” She asked him.

“I don’t know.” Sam said. “How far are we going?”

Natasha shrugged, placing her fist underneath her chin, assessing the situation.

“Well,” She told him. “We can’t go to a hospital... but I could try my best in the back of the van.”

At that, Sam pushed himself up onto his elbows with a look of fear in his eyes as he turned to look between Natasha and Bucky.

“You’re joking right?” He grimaced. “There’s nothing else we can do?”

Watching the situation play out before him, Bucky swore to himself knowing what he was about to do and partly regretting the decision before he even made it. As much as Sam could piss him off, he knew better than to let him suffer under Nat attempting to stitch him up. He couldn’t let him go through that when there was a better way.

“Shit.” Bucky shook his head, reaching his hand out to Sam to pull him up. “Fine. I know somewhere we can go.”

Natasha and Sam looked at each other, quirking their eyebrows, questioning how Bucky of all people would know somewhere to go in a situation like this. Not in a position to argue, however, Sam took his hand, standing to his feet.

“So... where are we headed?”

It had been a half an hour long drive before Bucky finally pulled the car over to the side of the road outside of an apartment building. Natasha and Sam followed his lead as he walked inside, up the stairs and unlocked one of the doors with his set of keys.

Hearing the key turning in the lock and commotion outside your apartment door, you spun around from your seat on the couch watching as you boyfriend, Bucky walked in the door of your shared apartment.

“You were gone for so long you almost had me wor-”

Before you could finish your sentence you watched as none other than Sam Wilson and Natasha Romanoff made their way through the door of your apartment. Although you had never been introduced, you recognized them immediately as members of the famous group of Avengers and coworkers of your boyfriend.

You sprung up from your seat immediately upon seeing these unfamiliar familiar faces. That’s when you noticed the blood coating the upper half of Sam’s suit and Natasha’s hands. Your eyes shot open wide, turning to face Bucky.

“James?” You said his name slowly.

“He got shot. There was nowhere else we could go, Y/n.” He told you. “You can fix it right?”

You made your way around the couch, rushing to Sam’s side and guiding him to sit on the cushions, continuing your conversation with Bucky all the while.

“I work in the maternity ward, Buck.” You reminded him.

Sam’s mouth dropped and Natasha, still standing in the doorway watched the conversation playing out between you and Bucky, still unsure of who you were.

Sam angled his neck to face Bucky from his seat on the couch. “You took me to a gynecologist?”

“She’s a doctor!” Bucky shouted at Sam, gesturing wildly with his hands.

“A maternity doctor!” Sam shouted back. “Do I look like-”

“If you don't want her help then-”

“Stop it!” You shouted, breaking up the useless, unnecessary conversation between the two men. They both went silent at the sound of your raised voice, turning back to face you. “Buck, go get my kit from the bathroom, okay?”

He quickly nodded, heading out of the room. As he did, you turned to Natasha who was still standing in the doorway.

“We need to get this suit off. I can’t work through it.”

She nodded, making her way across the living room, kneeling in front of Sam. Pulling a knife out of the holster at the side of her leg, she began slicing through the shoulder of his suit so that the two of you could take it off without raising his arms, affecting the wound.

When Bucky strolled back into the room, carrying your kit in his hands, Sam turned to him while Natasha continued to slice at his suit.

“So... how come she gets to call you ‘Buck’ and I can't?” He asked.

You smiled as you opened the kit, pulled gloves over your hands and set up your materials at your side. Slipping the jacket off of his shoulders, Bucky replied.

“Because she’s my girlfriend.”

A silence hung in the room for a moment as Natasha and Sam took their time to process the words that had just come out of Bucky’s mouth. It was almost impossible for them to comprehend that he had a life outside of the business they got into or that he could care for someone in such a way. The idea of someone like Bucky living out a domestic life in his free time was unbelievable.

“Wait your... but you...” Sam stumbled through his words, turning to look between you and the grumpy, 106 year-old man he had gotten to know over the past few years. Finally he broke into a smile, chuckling. “No way.”

You laughed, grabbing a seat from your dining table and pulling it up to Sam, plopping yourself down in it. Pulling your tray of materials towards him, you smiled. “Yes way. Good to know he’s mentioned me.”

You looked over your shoulder and winked at your boyfriend who was leaning against the wall behind you, his arms crossed.

“I’m just protecting you, doll.” He smirked. “You know that.”

Natasha tore off the last piece of the suit, stepping away from Sam, sinking herself into a nearby armchair.

“Gross.” She commented at the sound of the pet name Bucky held for you.

Laughing at her comment, you leaned forward, a cotton swab with numbing jelly in your hand.

“I know, baby. I’m just messing with you.” You told your boyfriend before turning your attention back to Sam. When you noticed him eyeing you warily, you said. “You can trust me. I may work in the maternity ward, but I know what I’m doing.”

He then nodded and watched as you pressed the swab against his shoulder holding it in place. As you continued applying a light pressure, Sam finally took in your surroundings, now noticing the framed photos scattered along the walls and surfaces of you and Bucky, of Bucky and Steve from back in the day and of you and- who Sam assumed were- your friends. He didn’t know how he didn’t see all of them when he first came in, being able to realize that you and Bucky shared the space as a home.

“How did you even lock this down?” Sam asked, glancing up towards Bucky.

Natasha, kicking back in her seat laughed. “Rogers always said you were ‘quite the ladies’s man’ back in the good ol’ days, Barnes. Who knew you still had it in you?”

Rather than play into their game, Bucky rolled his eyes, sitting down on the coffee table, grumbling to himself.

Sam turned back towards you. “So what did it?”

You glanced at your wrist watch, pulling the swab off of Sam’s shoulder, tossing it to your side and instead picking up what Sam thought to have looked like a sort of tweezer as he watched.

“What do you mean?” You asked, a light smile playing on your lips.

You knew this conversation was making your boyfriend want to kick everyone out of your shared appointment and that the only thing stopping him was that you were currently taking a bullet out of one of their shoulders.

“Like what did it, you know?” Sam asked, laughing. “Was it the staring? It was the staring wasn't it? He stares all the god damn time. It pisses me right off.”

You grinned, continuing the conversation as you slipped the tweezer into Sam’s bullet wound, hoping to distract him. Once you pulled the bullet out successfully and dropped it onto the table besides you, you grabbed the materials to stitch the hole closed.

“He does stare a lot, doesn’t he?” You laughed. “You’re right though actually. I caught him staring at me at a bar and slipped him my number. I figured he was too nervous to ask for it. That was what? Two years ago now?" You asked, looking over your shoulder at your boyfriend.

"Yeah something like that." Bucky replied, nonchalantly.

He was trying to act casual in front of his friends. That night was two years and three months ago to the day and he knew it when you asked. Bucky Barnes wished he could forget about a lot of things in his extended lifetime, but until the day he dies he swore to himself he would never forget the night he met you. Seeing you sitting across the bar from him changed his life for the better and he never wanted that to end. So much so that little did you know that he had bought a ring for you six months ago with the help of his best friend and most trusted confidant, but until the right moment arises it continues to sit in his locked safe in your shared bedroom.

“God, man, I can’t believe you kept this a secret for that long!” Sam exclaimed before cringing as he watched you slip the needle into his skin. “And to think- I thought we were friends.”

Your boyfriend rolled his eyes. “We’re coworkers.”

“You know what? That hurt.” Sam shook his head, pausing, before turning back to Natasha. “You’re pretty quiet. This antique has had a secret girlfriend for two years and you’ve got nothing to say?”

At his comment, Natasha stopped staring at the pictures on the wall, instead turning back to the group.

“Two years huh?” She asked. “That means Rogers knew didn’t he?”

Suddenly Bucky was very interested in staring at his hands as a silence washed over the room. You knew Steve leaving to travel back to the past a few months ago was still a sensitive subject for your boyfriend. Despite the fact that the other Avengers- or former Avengers- knew nothing of your existence, you had met Steve more times than you could count and you knew how important his friendship was to Bucky.

“Uh... yeah.” Bucky answered finally, clearing his throat.

Saving your boyfriend from the awkward conversation surrounding a touchy subject, you finished the last of your stitches on Sam, leaning back in your seat, pulling off your gloves and dropping the materials at your side.

“There!” You announced. “All done! Just try not to move that spot too much for the next few weeks, okay?”

“That’s easier said than done.” Sam said, smiling, glancing at his stitched up wound. “Not everyone just has a metal arm that can do the job for them.”

You laughed, maneuvering your way around the couch and into the kitchen to rinse the remainders of blood from your hands in the sink. As the warm water ran on top of your hands, you felt the unmistakable cold touch of vibranium wrap around your waist. As you scrubbed your hands in the sink, a hint of a smile gracing your face, you felt your boyfriend’s other hand tuck the piece of hair that had fallen into your face behind your ear.

“Thanks for doing that. I know I put you in a weird spot.” He almost whispered, leaving a light kiss on your cheek.

You heard the sound of Sam laughing at something Natasha had just said in the other room and shrugged.

“You don’t have to thank me, Buck.” You said. “Honestly... I kind of liked it. Not that Sam was shot or anything obviously- that’s awful and it’s terrifying that if it were somewhere else he could’ve died- but it’s good to feel... I don’t know... needed like that.”

You turned off the faucet and the second you did, your boyfriend handed you the towel, unwrapping his arm from around your waist and stepping back to look at you.

“But you are needed?” He said, leaning on the countertop. “I wouldn’t be able to do any of this or anything without you.”

You shrugged again, drying your hands.

“I know, Bucky. That’s not...” You sighed. “That’s not what I mean. I don’t know... it just kind of feels... cool.”

“Cool?” He asked, quirking his eyebrows and grinning at you while he said it.

You groaned.

“Yes! It made me feel cool!” You said, throwing the rag on the counter. “You guys are legitimate superheroes. All of you live like you’re in some action movie most days so yeah- it made me feel kind of cool to be included. Maybe you don’t notice it after all this time, but it felt exciting to me.”

He flashed you a smile, pushing himself off of the counter to rest his hands on your waist.

“So, you like heroes, huh?” He asked, clearly teasing you.

Although he was flirting by attempting to tease you for what you had just said, he admittedly felt his heart fill a bit more knowing that you thought of him as a hero.

You smiled, pulling on the dog tags that hung around his neck, teasing him right back.

“No, but I do like 106-year-old grumpy old men who have me stitch up their superhero friends.”

“I’m not grumpy.” He pouted.

“The first step is acceptance, babe.” You fake pouted, stepping back from his arms and lightly tapping him on the cheek. “Now go ask your superhero friends if they want anything to drink.”

Just as you finished your sentence you heard a shout from the other room.

“I’ll have a water if you don’t mind!”

At the sound of his voice you and Bucky turned towards each other, eyes wide.

“Were you eavesdropping?” Bucky called from the kitchen back to Sam who was sat in the living room, separated by a wall.

“Thin walls!” Sam called.

“I’d hate to be your neighbors!” Natasha added.

As tough as your boyfriend was, you watched as he became flustered, knowing the others had just heard him flirting with you in the kitchen. You laughed, patting him on the shoulder before grabbing two waters from the fridge and making your way back into the living room, handing one to each of your uninvited guests. Bucky followed behind you as you plopped yourself back down on the couch watching a conversation between Natasha, Bucky and Sam unfold.

While Bucky and Sam had a harmless argument about the mission they had just been on, you felt a soft pat on your arm and turned to see Nat facing you.

“About what you said in the kitchen-” She began.

Remembering what you had told Bucky in the kitchen minutes before about them being movie-like superheroes, you grew embarrassed.

“Oh God! I’m sorry. You really don’t have to mention it-” You said, cutting her off.

“No, seriously.” She told you. “For what it’s worth, I wouldn’t have been able to fix him up like that. It was nice to have you there.”

As badly as you wanted to play it cool in front of her, you couldn’t help but smile. As embarrassing as you thought it was for them to hear everything you told your boyfriend in confidence, you meant every word you had said and it meant a lot for Natasha to acknowledge you in such a way.

“Thanks. That means a lot.” You smiled.

When you turned back in your seat, you noticed that the conversation between Sam and Bucky had ended and that they both were turned towards you and Natasha.

“Yeah, thanks for that, Y/n. I think I would have rather bled out then let her fix it.” Sam added and Natasha scoffed. “Hey, now that we know you exist we could use you! It’d be nice to have someone keep this robot in check.” He shrugged at your boyfriend.

Whether it was because he was genuinely enjoying himself or it was just because he was beside you, Bucky chuckled at Sam’s comment, stretching his arm over your shoulders as the two of you sat on the couch chatting with the two of them.

“I’d like that.” You laughed, leaning comfortably into your boyfriend. “Oh! Does that mean I can get a metal arm too-”

Before you could even finish your sentence, your boyfriend cut you off.

“Absolutely not.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes oneshot #Bucky Barnes drabble #bucky barnes blurb #bucky barnes fic #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes fluff

6K notes · View notes

jingerhead · 2 years

Note

i would honestly spend hours reading a fic of andrew drooling over neil

Omg me too anon, Andrew having a gay panic/drooling over Neil fuels me here you go

~*~

He wasn't even doing anything. And that was the annoying part.

Neil was sitting on the couch, chewing on the cap of a pen he'd been using to do math because he's insane, hair still messed from sleep and clothes wrinkled. He was wearing that one ratty gray sweater that he refused to give up, black athletic shorts and tall white socks, knees drawn up to hold the folder his math homework was resting on. He wasn't doing anything, and yet.

Andrew slowly stirred his coffee with a spoon to have something to do while he watched Neil. Yeah, he was a hypocrite for pointing out and telling Neil to stop staring, but Andrew decided this was different. Neil doesn't even know he's attractive, because he doesn't give a shit about his looks unless it's to think about his physical similarities to a man long dead, so the fact that he was just sitting there looking the way he did, making Andrew feel breathless from nothing, was a problem.

The spoon clinked against the ceramic of the mug. After enough taps, Neil looked up and locked eyes with Andrew. "What?" he asked after taking the cap of the pen out of his mouth.

"Don't chew that," Andrew scolded, finally putting the spoon down and raising the mug. He lightly blew on the hot coffee once, then took a sip. "It's disgusting."

Even though he didn't roll his eyes or say anything back, Andrew could feel the sass all the way from the kitchen when Neil looked back down at his homework. Taking another sip of his coffee, Andrew studied Neil closer: his messed up auburn hair, how unfairly attractive his side profile was, his long-healed scars. Andrew knew that Neil's skin was still warm from their lazy morning in bed, having all the time in the world to themselves at the house in Colombia, waiting until the sun was high in the sky to finally get moving with their day.

It was difficult to look away from Neil for even a moment, but Andrew managed so that he could put away the spoon he used in the sink. While he wasn't watching Neil, he took a few sips from his mug, calming himself down long enough to turn around and face his nothing once again. Neil's eyebrows were drawn in as he frowned at a math problem, white teeth sinking into his bottom lip - a bad habit he was trying to break that was slowly driving Andrew insane - and that dreaded cap popped off of the pen once more so Neil could write on the paper in his lap.

Andrew quickly decided that homework wasn't allowed on their long vacation. If Neil had to have that done by Monday, he should've done it earlier.

It wasn't hard to get Neil's attention. Andrew walked around the counter of the kitchen to reach the couch, taking the time to set his mug down before snatching the homework off of Neil's lap. There was a grumble of protest that quickly died before it could get past Neil's lips as Andrew leaned forward, boxing him in on the couch with his hands pressed against the back cushion right above either shoulder.

"I..." Neil began, still frowning but hesitating. "...was working."

"And now you're not," Andrew pointed out.

Neil didn't argue against it. He stared right back as Andrew got one last look in at Neil's eyes, which always managed to seem ice cold and yet warm at the same time. There had to be multiple shades of blue inside the iris, and when Andrew looked closely enough, he could spot flecks of light green and brown near the pupil. He always wondered if Neil had ever noticed those, but knew the answer despite his curiosity.

He also wondered how Neil would react if he was ever told just how beautiful he really is. Maybe one day Andrew would be able to say so, but for now, he simply said, "You're distracting."

"I'm just sitting here," Neil said around an amused snort. "That's due on Monday."

"Then do it on Monday," Andrew suggested. "Yes or no?"

Neil's eyebrows furrowed for just a moment. "You're a bad influence," he said as if he wasn't one himself. "But yes."

#aftg #aftg fanfic #tfc #tfc fanfic #all for the game #all for the game fanfic #the foxhole court #andreil #andreil fanfic #andriel #andriel fanfic #andrew having gay thoughts about neil that's it that's the post #honestly though neil is too pretty for his own good #they both are #jinger's works

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lesbian-deadpool · 3 years

Note

oooh! maybe r takes a photo of pregnant!nat holding her belly every month (unbeknownst to her) and then after the baby comes takes one of her holding them, gifting her a small album on the baby’s one month?

Okay, yes. This is so fucking cute.

First Month:

There's no chance to Natasha's body. Like you can't tell she's pregnant.

But you still snap a pic of her holding her belly, and smiling down at where she knows her child is growing insider of her, as she lounges on the couch.

Second Month:

Right. Now, there's more change here.

This picture is of Natasha resting in bed (dealing with morning sickness), hands encasing her, barely there, baby bump. All the while dozing off.

Third Month:

Now, Natasha's bump is way more noticeable than it was before. Not like, sticking out through her shirt noticeable, but still way more than the previous month.

You manage to take this picture one day without her noticing, as your sat at the kitchen island, and she is stood talking to Steve. Not even releasing that her hands were upon her stomach, and was caressing herself, and hopefully your child.

Fourth Month:

Okay, now we're getting somewhere!

It was like during the past month she had just popped, with how much of a change there was.

Natasha had her feet up on the coffee table, watching tv, all the while she stroked her bump with one hand, the other placed underneath it.

Fifth Month:

She just keeps getting bigger and bigger, just exploding over the months. And neither of you can deny how much you love watching your child grow.

This time the picture is of her at a team get together, not to be confused with a Stark party.

It was just turning summer, and the team decided to spend the day at the park.

Peter was distracting her, by showing her a new flip-trick while catching a Frisbee, he had just made up.

A bright smile upon the red-heads face as she watched the boy, hands still clasped protectively over her showing bump.

Sixth Month:

Natasha was is a shirt stolen from you in this photograph, which was really baggy on her. So baggy, in fact, that you could hardly tell she was pregnant.

But luckily she was laid on her side, across the bed, one hand on her stomach, the other flicking through the TV. Head resting upon your sleeping dogs back, using them as a pillow.

Seventh Month:

Summer was coming to an end, and on one of the last hot days of the season, everyone decided to chill out at the Stark's lake house.

Natasha was in a white bikini, sitting on the pier with her legs submerged into the water. Eyes closed and head thrown back, basking in the sun. One hand bracing herself behind her back, the other on top of her swollen belly.

Eighth Month:

"My mom wants an update picture." Was the half-lie you told. You still sent it to your mother. But she never asked for it, and it wasn't taken purely for her.

Natasha was smiling brightly into the camera. Two braids coming down either side of her neck, one hand underneath her belly, the other on the side. All while a half-eaten bowl of ice cream sat upon her stomach, as if it was a table.

Ninth Month:

Okay, this is the big one.

The final month.

It was bittersweet, to say the least.

Natasha was sad that she wouldn't be pregnant anymore, absolutely loving carrying your baby, watching- And hell feeling them grow inside of her. And happy, because she would be able to finally meet them... and also not be pregnant anymore.

There wasn't much that Natasha could do in her condition, at that time.

One thing she could do, was bake.

Over the past nine months, Natasha had been working hard on her baking skills. Now don't get me wrong, her cooking was still atrocious. But her baking? That was great.

The final picture of her pregnancy, was of her in a flour-covered apron, the white powder on the tip of her nose and wiped across her cheekbone. Having just managed to slide the tray of cookies into the oven. Taking a deep breath as she rose to her full height, hands on either side of her bump.

Thor bouncing behind you at the aspect of freshly baked sugary treats.

The Birth:

There were tears in her eyes as she looked down at her newborn child, an adoring smile on her face. All directed at the gunk covered baby, that was not even a minute old yet.

Mother and child, skin to skin, peering at each other.

One showing pure love.

The other showing 'Who-the-fuck-are-you?' confusion.

The First Week:

The first week was exhausting, but that much you were expecting anyway.

So, when you could, you took naps.

Which is how you snapped the photo of Natasha sleeping in bed, with your daughter by her side, also fast asleep.

One of Natasha's arms above the child, and the other resting on the baby's belly, indicating that, that was how she soothed the child to sleep.

The Second Week:

This picture was of your daughter laying on her lap, looking up at her red-headed mother.

Natasha smiling down at her baby, tiny hands wrapped around her fingers. Caressing the back of her child's hands with her thumbs.

The Third Week:

This was just basically a picture of her breastfeeding your daughter.

Their eyes connected as she rocked them both back and forth in the seat. Once again, holding her tiny hand.

The Fourth Week:

Clint had gifted you a set of hand puppets to entertain your child with, just randomly, a while ago. Where he got them? Nobody knows... where did he come from? Cotton Eyed Joe.

Natasha had one of them on and was talking to your child in a voice you would hear off of Sesame Street.

The baby wiggling excitedly, enjoying playtime with their mommy. The starts of a smile forming at the corners of her lips.

The Gift:

She cried.

From the moment she had opened the album, to the last picture inside, she had tears pouring from her eyes.

Natasha had no idea you had anything like this planned. She wouldn't let you go for hours after she had received the gift, flipping through it the whole time. Playfully grilling you on how you had managed to take these pictures without her knowledge. While you held your daughter, the three of you enjoying spending time together.

#anon #ask me some things #i answer some things #ldspeaks #pregnant!nat #mom!natasha #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff imagine #natasha romanoff #marvel #MCU

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kaidenya · 3 years

Text

Getting Caught ✧ MHA

Description: Headcanons for getting caught in a intimate moment with Hitoshi Shinso, Tenya Iida, Mirio Togata, & Tomura Shigaraki

WARNING: NSFW, suggestive content NOTE: This is a repost of an old SHITPOST headcanon I had on my previous account so if this looks familiar I hope you enjoy it the second time around!

“Nobody will know...”

Shinso

Shinso would go to his grave claiming that you were to blame for this situation

But in all honesty, he had been allowing things to build for far too long

You two weren’t necessarily a secret, but most people just assumed you were bEsT fRiEnDs 🥴

It was an honest misunderstanding

You had decided to keep physical contact to a minimum after an unfortunate attempt at holding his hand left you believing he didn’t enjoy any forms of PDA.

Shinso had just assumed the same about you.

However, as the two of you grew more serious, you found it more difficult to keep your hands to yourself

It just so happened your boyfriend had been working extremely hard in the hero course and it s h o w e d

You had found yourself admiring his changing physique and in turn, found you weren’t the only one admiring your boyfriend.

You weren’t necessarily jealous— you trusted him more than anything, but he tended to be socially constipated

And nobody seemed to know about you. Thus giving the other interested parties an unintentional greenlight to flirt with him. And there was one girl that had stood out among the sea of suitors.

Each time you saw the second-year girl perch next to Shinso it made your skin crawl, but no lines had been crossed.

Until they were.

Your knuckles were gripping the strap of your bag so tightly it ached when you made your way to where your boyfriend was perched outside

The second-year didn’t even acknowledge you as she continued her flirtatious ways and you don’t resist the urge to roll your eyes as you settle into the place next to him.

He had flashes you a lazy smile before focusing back on his phone screen.

Then her hand landed on his upper thigh

Let me tell you: sleepy boy was shocked when she touched him, but he was EVEN MORE SHOCKED when you took her by the wrist and tossed her hand to the side

You waste no time threading your fingers with his, rising to your feet and all but hauling him from his seat

His amusement only grew as he realized just how jealous you had gotten, a smirk forming over his lips as he set to teasing you

‘What’s the matter, kitty? You don’t like anyone touching daddy?’

NO, YOU DO NOT

You have no idea how you ended up on your knees in a supply closet??

Shinso is feeling very sure of himself above you, using the hand that was gripping the back of your neck as leverage to hold you down on his length

k i n g of dirty talk 🤭

Absolutely cannot help himself when it comes to telling you how pretty you look choking on his cock

Honestly doesn’t last long, but what do you expect? Seeing your jealous and possessive response to the girl he had given little to no acknowledgment had lit a fire in his chest

He was desperate to get his hands on you, to remind you that he was just as much yours as you were his.

And when he does— oh MAN he makes you forget all about the second-year girl

He has one of your legs draped over his shoulder as he goes down on you, licking and sucking at you in a way that had you trembling

You accidentally knock over a pile of brooms and mops, neither of you paying them any mind as your head lulled in bliss

If only you had remembered to flick the lock on the door…

Kirishima really thought someone was banging on the door for help. It wouldn’t have been manly— or heroic not to make sure someone wasn’t in trouble

Besides, why else would someone be making so much noise in a supply closet if they weren’t stuck??

So when the door swung open and he locked eyes with you, still panting and moaning as an all too familiar head of purple hair buried further into your heat—

He let out the loudest shout he could muster. Apologies poured from his mouth as he fumbled to shut the door

However, your boyfriend made no move to let you go. Instead, he hummed against your skin, only leaning back to nip at your inner thigh before speaking in a heavy voice

‘Better make this fast, kitty.’

Iida

So you’ve tried to keep your relationship on the down-low bc Iida doesn’t want anyone to think he’s distracted

We all know he just doesn’t wanna be called out for his obvious favoritism

Before you got together you were constantly pushing him, breaking minuscule rules in favor of gaining his attention. Nothing too immoral, but enough to get under his skin.

Like slipping into class just seconds after the bell had rung, nearly avoiding Aizawa’s attention, but never making it past Iida.

Or when a class had gotten a bit too stressful, the room filling with hot air as tensions rose and you had to pop open a few buttons of your uniform top

Then there was your favorite offense; desk sitting. If there was one sure way to get a reaction from your stickler of a boyfriend it was to place yourself on top of a desk.

Which is what you found yourself doing at the end of an unfavorable week. The two of you hadn’t gotten a moment together outside of your studies and you were growing needy.

So with a few moments of free time before class began, you decided to chat with Tsu and Uraraka, settling atop the desk between them when you had grown tired of standing

The desk belonging to none other than Tenya

Your ankles were crossed as you leaned forward to speak with Tsuyu and he was beyond s h o o k

Immediate hand chopping.

He’s towering over you, ranting about how your behavior was improper while keeping his hands clenched in an attempt to keep from running his fingertips along your thighs.

When was the last time you were this close to him? It had to have been longer than he realized for him to have such a strong reaction— are you biting your lip??

Any response between you died off as Aizawa addressed the class and you were sent back to your seat, leaving Iida far more frazzled than you realized

The moment class ends he has you tucked under an empty stairwell to continue his lecture

Only he doesn’t get very far

Tenya Iida has an authority kink. I take no criticism.

When you look up at him from under your lashes, muttering the words ‘yes sir’ as he chastised you, his resolve was shattered

Has you pressed against the wall immediately, fisting your blazer as he dips to press his forehead to yours

‘Why must you push me?’

Doesn’t even let you answer before his mouth is covering yours, hips arching to grind his obvious arousal against you

Knowing he had been just as affected by your as you had him was enough to spur a moan past your lips and he takes the chance to slide his tongue into your mouth

Although he was MORTIFIED at the impropriety of it all, he couldn’t resist the sweet noises you made as he expertly worked against you

His hand eventually slides between you, pushing past the waistband of your bottoms and grinding his palm against you teasingly

‘Now, who do you belong to, darling?’

You you youyouyou—

Your hand was rubbing along Iida’s hard cock, his length straining against his pants to the point you’re almost worried they’ll rip

Somehow the two of you had been so lost in one another that you hadn’t heard the door open at the top of the stairwell

Denki and Mineta honestly weren’t creeping this time— they just wanted a snack from the vending machine adjacent to you!

Got a whole ass meal instead 👁👄👁

A moan tore from your throat, quickly being smothered by Tenya’s parted lips as you came on his fingers

You had barely made out the echoing sound of objects clattering to the ground through the ringing in your ears

But your boyfriend had heard

His lips separated from you in an instant, shocked gaze shifting into something closer to anger as he recognized your classmates

Denki began stammering out an apology, looking close to short-circuiting as his attention flickered between you

Mineta had let his gaze linger on you for too long. His eyes taking in the way your exposed chest— Tenya must have pulled the buttons loose

You cringe away from his gaze, post-orgasm haze™ spurring you to tuck yourself closer to Tenya to avoid their stares rather than snap at them

It was your obvious discomfort that had kicked Iida into gear, twisting to thread your button your blouse together before rounding on the others

If embarrassment wasn’t enough, the thought of them having seen you in such a vulnerable position had him seething as he began his lecture

Attempts hand chopping them into submission, but they kept disregarding his words in favor of catching another glimpse of you in a fucked out state

All fondness for his classmates had vanished as he stepped into their line of sight, shielding you from their gazes. His eyes almost daring them to continue

Whatever words lingering on their tongues died off, heads bowing in shame as they agreed to keep the entire situation to themselves

After all, the potential wrath of Tenya Iida was not something to be taken lightly.

Mirio

Mirio’s love language is touch, without a doubt, so it’s honestly surprising when he’s NOT trying to get handsy with you

He’s always defended his obvious displays of affection by claiming he had so little free time— he’d be a fool to waste the opportunity to touch you!

Mirio jumped at the opportunity to feel you against him. Whether it was a heavy kiss to your lips after walking you to class, a hand slipping under your shirt to caress your back, or his fingers trailing teasingly along your thigh.

However, as much as he was attentive, he was also forgetful.

It was because of that forgetfulness that you found yourself alone in your dorm. Countless boxes of takeout were lined up on your desk and a pre-planned movie was ready to play on your small tv.

After a few hours and countless delivered messages, you succumbed to disappointment.

The following day Mirio can’t seem to figure out why you’re avoiding him, but he refuses to give up without a fight.

Definitely thinks it’s a game of some sort and takes it upon himself to break your silent streak

It wasn’t easy being upset with Mirio. He had an uncanny ability to brighten any room he stepped into and being irrevocably in love with him only strengthened his effect

He’s always hard for you and loves letting you know just how you affect him— so why not place a hand on your hand, pressing firmly against your back when he slips past?

You always look so stunning— why not feed you compliments at every given moment?

How could he not look at you with the most iNTENSE GAZE undressing you with his eyes in front of everyone?

It’s when he realizes that you aren’t reacting to his teasing and flirtatious behaviorist that he caves.

He finds you between classes, stirring you away from the crowd, despite your wordless protests. It isn’t until you’re tucked away in an abandoned hall that he finally asks what was wrong

You had fully intended on dragging it out, allowing anger to push you on. But he spoke to you in the softest voice, looked at you with eyes filled with so much devotion that it was nearly overwhelming

He is shocked when you shove him away— were you tearing up??

Actually gets super defensive because he doesn’t realize HES the one that made you upset

Once you finally cave and remind him about the date he had missed it hits him like a freight train.

The two of you so rarely got time together and he had stood you up.

‘I’m so sorry, baby. I’ve been so busy lately— I didn’t realize I was neglecting you.’

Does not waste time making it up to you. He cups your face in his hands as he starts placing soft kisses on your face, cooing softly as tears roll down your cheeks

Did somebody say praise kink?

How can you stay mad at him when he’s telling you how sorry he is and that he loves you and you’re the only one his dick will get hard for??

It isn’t long before he’s pinned you between him and the wall, hitching your legs around his waist while coaxing you into a heavy kiss

His hips flex to grind against you, his hot length slotting between your thighs as he digs his fingertips into the curve of your ass

Mirio does not care that somebody could see— his quirk leaves him naked all the time and he’s shameless 🥵

But again he’s so forgetful—

And he was meant to go straight to class 1A to talk with them alongside the other members of The Big Three

So when he didn’t show up Aizawa had sent Tamaki and Midoriya in search of their future number one hero

How were you supposed to know they would turn the corner just as you arched from the wall?

Mirio had no idea anyone was there as he used the hand that was wrapped around your throat as leverage to grind you over the edge—

bOY were you embarrassed when you heard the two boys audibly g a s p

Midoriya’s embarrassment nearly gave Tamaki a run for his money. You were quick to turn away, immediately hiding your face in his chest as he greeted the duo in an overly cheerful voice

Absolutely teases the three of you over the incident FOREVER!!

Shigaraki

Shigaraki was obsessed with you.

There was no way around how infatuated he had become and it only seemed to grow alongside your relationship

He was touch starved. The moment you began giving him physical affection and attention it was game over

He had no shame, especially when it came to his desire for you, which is how you often found yourself perched on his lap no matter the company.

That being said, the leader of the League of Villains became intolerable when the two of you were separated for long.

And a recent spiral of events has prevented you from returning to the hideout, thus leaving the others to deal with him

You weren’t expected to return until the following week. Aside from texting Shigaraki endlessly (didn’t he have anything better to do?) and assuring Twice and Toga that you’d be returning as soon as possible, you hadn’t had much contact with the League

Shigaraki was wound up tight, lashing out at the others far more than usual. That was how he ended up sitting at the bar, Father concealing his annoyance as Kurogiri took over the meeting.

And suddenly you were walking in, muttering a quick apology before taking the only available seat beside Toga

Shigaraki could not keep his eyes off of you, something that doesn’t go unnoticed by the others. It was the most present he had been since you left.

Of course, that meant Dabi has also noticed and never missing an opportunity to mess with their ruthless leader he shifted closer from his place behind you, muttering small talk into your ear

There is no doubt in my mind that Shigaraki was staring at you both like 😠 behind Father

Luckily the meeting had been wrapping up upon your arrival and the group was dismissed, many leaving to handle their own business.

However, the moment you had leaped to your feet Tomura had vanished from the room

With a sigh you moved over to the bar, sliding into the seat that had once been occupied by your man and Kurogiri placed a drink before you

By the time you had downed the last bit the bar had gotten eerily quiet, though when you shifted to speak to the Misty Man he was already looking over your shoulder. With a single nod, he had left the room.

The moment he was gone leather artist gloves shoved under your top, your heart racing at the all too familiar feeling as a palm settled between your shoulders

‘I’ve missed you, pet.’

There was a harsh tone to his voice, but it was contradicted by the trail of open-mouthed kisses he pressed along your neck and shoulder

Your entire body arched against him, head craning back to catch a glimpse of him, smiling widely as you met his gaze and returned the sentiment

A scoff slid past his lips, though you could see the amusement dancing in his gaze as his hand reached around to wrap around your throat

Despite the gloves, he kept a pinky in the air

His mouth covers yours in a sloppy kiss as his hips jolt sharply against you, knocking you against the countertop

Absolutely cannot control himself as he ruts against you, wasting little to no time in pushing your bottoms down past your thighs

Heat pooled in your stomach as his free hand reached between you to pull himself from his jeans

His dick slid between your thighs, a throaty whine sliding past your lips and despite the slick from your arousal the thick head stretched you perfectly

You had been completely lost in him, moaning and whining freely as he continued to rut against you.

There was a click throughout the room, similar to the door handle being twisted and your attention was adverted to the source

However, Shigaraki was faster.

He grabbed the back of your head and using his hold as leverage to press your face flat against the bar-top while his other hand worked against your sensitive center. A loud moan that was undoubtedly his name tumbled past your lips

‘There’s my little slut— louder, make sure they know who makes you feel this good.’

Unbeknownst to you, the person he wanted to be sure knew you were his had entered the room, Tomura meeting his gaze with a smirk as you began chanting his name like a prayer

A harsh thrust of his hips sent you over the edge as you came on his cock, filthy praises slipping past his lips as his hot release rolled down your thighs

He placed another sloppy kiss on the back of your neck before parting from you.

The moment you lift your head and begin adjusting yourself you lock eyes with Dabi

Embarrassed didn’t even begin to explain how you felt as Tomura let out a loud laugh, reaching down to pull your bottoms up after he had tucked himself away

‘Go wait on my bed while I speak with Dabi and I may let you come on my tongue.’

You wasted no time hurrying away from the two, heart pounding from both excitement and humiliation as you rushed to do as you were told

#iida x reader #mirio x reader #shigaraki x reader #shinso x reader #tenya x reader #mirio headcanons #iida headcanons #shinso headcanons #shigaraki headcanons #my hero academia #my heado academia headcanons

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drarrily-we-row-along · 3 years

Text

Day 125.7 Accidental Bonding (Part 7)

(You can start at Part One, if you’d like.)

The whole entire day had sucked.

Harry sat in the corner of the muggle pub he'd wandered into (because it was close to Draco's house and they'd come here for drinks and dinner once and Harry had made him laugh so hard he'd snorted) nursing a scotch (because that's what Draco drank and it made him think of books and coziness) and he wished.

Merlin he wished that he was with Draco right now instead of sitting all alone in this stupid pub.

He glanced up when he heard the tingle of the bells above the door and watched in shock as his two best friends walked in. Harry blinked in surprise, sitting up straighter. "What?" he managed when they clapped eyes on him and made a beeline for his table. "What are you doing here?"

"Like we would be anywhere else when you are obliviously having an emotional breakdown," Hermione replied as she draped her coat over the back of her chair and sat down next to Harry.

Ron slid into the seat across from him, "You really weren't yourself at training today," he added apologetically.

"But how did you find me?" he asked.

Hermione held out her mobile, "You left your 'find my friend' active, so I tracked you."

"I didn't even know that was something people could do."

She nodded, "You learn something new every day," she replied flippantly. "Now tell us. What's going on?"

"Nothing," he said, probably too quickly.

Definitely too quickly if Hermione's expression was anything to go by. "You're drinking scotch," she said, as though that was damning evidence.

(Read more below the cut)

"And?" he asked petulantly.

Ron cleared his throat, "Just, we're here for you, mate," he said. "If there's something you wanted to talk about. We're not going to judge you." He reached across the table and patted Harry on the shoulder, "We just want you to know we love you."

"Okay," Hermione said, "Yes, that, but," she added, "We also want to know what the bloody hell is going on with you and Malfoy."

"Hermione wants to know," Ron said, narrowing his eyes at her, "I'd be glad not to know. If you don't want to talk about it."

"Ronald-"

Harry laughed, he couldn't help himself, and his best friends both looked at him apologetically.

Ron said, "You know you can tell us anything, right?"

"I think I might be in love with Draco Malfoy."

Ron sighed, "I was afraid you were going to say that. I'm going to order a drink and then you can tell us all about it."

----------

Harry spent the next hour talking about Draco, going through the way things had started, to how things had developed, to the way they ended that morning.

"Are you sure he doesn't feel the same way?" Hermione asked.

He nodded miserably, "He told me this morning that he felt the same as he did before the bond."

"He could have been lying," Ron offered.

"I don't think so," he replied, "I've gotten pretty good at detecting when he's not being truthful."

"And you've been checked to make sure there are no traces of the bond left?"

"Yeah. I went to St. Mungo's after work. Apparently I should have been feeling the affects of the bond lessen for the past week or so," he added bitterly. "She ran a thousand diagnostic spells and there's nothing detectable."

"Do you think-" Hermione broke off and bit her lip.

"What?"

She tucked a curl behind her ear, "Do you think it's possible that he liked you before the bond?"

"What? No," he said, shaking his head.

"Right but hear me out," she said, "why would he have asked you to stay for breakfast if he hated you?"

"He didn't say he hated me, he said-"

"That he felt the same as before the bond," she finished.

Ron nodded, "She makes a good point, mate."

"That's impossible! He was just as upset about the bond in the beginning as I was," he protested.

"But was he upset for the same reasons?" she asked.

He sucked his lower lip into his mouth.

"And he did seem pretty..." Ron trailed off.

"Besotted?" Hermione offered and Ron nodded.

"When you brought him with you those times to dinner with us," he finished.

Harry frowned, "No he didn't."

"No offense, mate, but you couldn't see how he was looking at you," Ron said.

"Ron's right," Hermione said, "For all we know he's liked you all along."

"For all we know," Harry argued, "he has hated my guts and that hasn't changed." He shook his head, this wasn't helping, "Let's talk about something else," he said.

Mercifully, his friends dropped it and Hermione started to talk about her day and the law she was trying to push through.

But when they were getting ready to leave Hermione said, "Don't you think you should say something to him?"

"What?" he asked incredulously. "No, I do not think I should say something to him. Are you insane?"

"But the worst case scenario is that he confirms that he hates you, isn't that better than not knowing?" she asked.

He didn't know how to answer her, so he just settled for letting himself be pulled into a hug instead.

"Just think about it," she whispered in his ear and he nodded.

"Come to the burrow for dinner on Sunday," Ron added, giving him a hug, too. "Mum's been missing her favorite son," he added with a wink.

They left the pub and headed toward a little back ally to apparate home. Ron and Hermione went first, and then Harry went; closing his eyes and turning before he was sucked through time and space.

But when he opened his eyes again, he wasn't at his house; he was standing at Draco's front door. He blinked and then Hermione's words rang through his head isn't that better than not knowing?

Without his conscious permission, his hand reached up and knocked on Draco's door. And then he immediately panicked, reaching for his wand as he decided to just apparate away.

Before he could manage it, the door was swung open and Draco said, "yes?" before he caught sight of Harry. Draco's eyebrows shot up and he said on a surprised breath, "Harry."

And it was Harry's undoing.

Draco had called him many things: prat, scarhead, idiot, wanker, Potter, and a thousand others. But he had never used Harry's given name before.

"It wasn't just the bond," Harry finally managed.

"Sorry?" Draco asked, tugging the sleeves of the hoodie he was wearing down so they covered his hands.

Harry blinked, "Is that my hoodie?" he asked, momentarily distracted.

Draco looked down at himself, then back up at Harry pure panic in his eyes, and Harry did the only thing he could do.

He stepped up the final step into Draco's house and kissed him. Harry cupped Draco's face in his hands and molded their mouths together the way he'd been aching to do for weeks.

And Draco immediately melted into the kiss, wrapping his fingers through Harry's hair and holding him close, lining their bodies up fully. "What?" he managed when they broke apart to breathe.

"It wasn't just the fucking bond," Harry said. "Circe. It is so nice to say that. It wasn't the bond," he repeated again because it felt so damn good to get those words out.

"Harry-" Draco said, his voice calm and collected, and Harry knew he was going to try to say something practical, something reasonable but he couldn't stop himself from interrupting.

"Say it again," he begged.

"What?" Draco asked, brow furrowing.

"My name."

Draco's face softened, "Harry," he murmured.

"Godric, Draco," he managed as he swooped back in, pressing the other man back against the wall and snogging him desperately, pouring all of the longing and the aching that he'd been feeling for weeks into the kiss. One hand held his jaw while the other cupped his waist and Harry was flying.

"Harry," Draco groaned into the kiss before he put his hands on Harry's chest and pushed lightly.

Harry took a step back, panting.

"Wait," the other man said. "Just," he shook his head. "Wait a second." Draco scrubbed his hands over his face, "Why are you here?"

"I didn't mean to come here," he said. "I meant to apparate home but I ended up on your doorstep because all I've been able to think about all day is you."

"Right," Draco said, nodding once. "Yeah. We need to get you to St. Mungo's. Obviously the bond has-"

"It. is. not. the. bond," Harry repeated, resisting the urge to shout it but only just.

"This isn't right," he said, shaking his head.

"Do you not feel the same about me?" Harry asked, "Should I not have kissed you? Sorry-"

Draco held up a hand, "Of course I feel that way," he said with a self deprecating laugh.

"But why-"

"Because I felt this way before the bond," he said.

Harry huffed, "Why is she always bloody right?"

"Who?" Draco asked, scowling in confusion.

"Hermione."

Draco rubbed his forehead, "Honestly." He blew out a breath and brushed the thought away, "Right. The point stands, we need to get you to St. Mungos-"

"I've already gone," Harry protested, "because someone kept telling me that everything I was feeling was because of the bloody, stupid bond."

Draco froze, brow furrowing in confusion, "You've already gone to St. Mungos?"

"Yes," he affirmed. "And I am fine. There is no trace of the bond anywhere-"

"It's messed with your mind-"

"Draco," he said, stepping closer and clasping his shoulders. "It's not the bond." He took a breath and let the words hang in the air. "It's me, okay? I am in love with you."

"You're not."

Harry threw his hands up in the air, "Stop it!"

"But Potter this is ridiculous."

"Don't," he said, voice low but firm. "Do not go back to calling me Potter, Draco, so help me."

The other man took a breath, then another, "Okay. We need a minute," he said. "I need a minute." He marched past Harry into the kitchen, "Tea?" he asked.

And no, Harry really didn't want any bloody tea but as he didn't seem to be any closer to getting what he did want, he sighed, "If you insist." As Draco set about making tea, pulling down Harry's favorite mug, Harry said, "Can I ask a question?"

"You have questions?" Draco asked with a dry laugh, "A moment ago, it seemed I had the monopoly on questions."

He huffed, "Why won't you believe me?"

"Because-" Draco started to snap before pausing and taking a breath, and Merlin Harry loved him even more. He carefully poured the hot water into their mugs and then he said, "because you didn't feel this way a month ago, the bond happened and planted artificial feelings, and now you have different feelings."

"Okay, first," Harry said, "The bond planted physical urges," he said. "I still hated you for at least the first two weeks, even if I wanted to touch you." He shook his head, "Not in a pervy way."

The corner of Draco's mouth twitched and something eased in Harry's chest.

"The feelings came later," he said, "After I realized how," he broke off searching for the right words, "fantastic you are. After I got to know you, I realized how many amazing things there are about you and I wanted to spend time with you. Not because holding your hand felt good but because you make me laugh, and because you're kind, and because you are so interesting," he said.

"Harry," he said softly, uncertainly.

"And I know it's scary," Harry assured him, "I'm completely terrified. But I also know that I have never felt as happy, and safe, and cared for as I have the past two weeks with you. And if you'd just give me a chance, I-"

Draco lunged across the island, grabbing Harry's lapels in his hands and crashing their mouths together.

"Mmrph," Harry managed before kissing the other man back, gentling Draco's frantic kissing until he could press love into his lips.

"You," Draco said when he pulled back, "Are the worst."

"What?" Harry asked, even though he couldn't help but laugh.

"How dare you leave me this morning telling me that you felt the same as you did at the beginning of this? How dare you not even stay for breakfast?"

"To be fair," Harry said, leaning across the island to steal another kiss, "You said you felt the same first."

"Yes well, bravery is your house's thing, not mine."

"I'll tell you I love you before I leave every day," he promised.

Draco stared at him, "Don't say things like that if you don't mean them."

He reached out and took Draco's hand in his, "I mean it." After a heart beat Harry cleared his throat, "So, since we're being honest, I have really enjoyed not sleeping alone the past month."

There was a pause as Draco's eyes searched his, "Are you asking if you can move in?" Draco asked.

He shrugged one shoulder, "If you wouldn't mind. We wouldn't have to," he bit his lip, suddenly feeling a bit embarrassed, "You know, do stuff," he said, "If you don't want to. Just," he scratched his beard, "you keep the nightmares away."

Draco's lower lip protruded and his eyes looked suspiciously bright, "You can't just say things like that!" he exclaimed. "Merlin, Potter, you don't do anything by halves do you? You absolute nutter."

He came around the other side of the island and pressed a kiss to the tip of Draco's nose, "Harry," he corrected.

"Harry," Draco repeated, breathing love into the word, rubbing his nose up the side of Harry's. "Yes, of course you can stay, you sap."

Harry wrapped his fingers in the stolen hoodie and pulled Draco closer so he could kiss his petal soft lips again.

"Harry?" Draco murmured into the kiss.

"Mmm?" he asked as he trailed kisses from the corner of Draco's mouth along his jaw.

Draco tilted his head back to give him more room to maneuver, "What if I said I did want to do stuff?" he asked.

Harry pulled back and Draco whined. "Do you?" he asked.

"I'm asked you first," he replied.

He grinned, "I would be very open to stuff. If you are."

"You should probably take me to bed, then," Draco replied, pulling Harry back in to kiss him, "And get me out of this hideous, whatever-you-called-it."

Harry laughed and dragged Draco out of the kitchen and back to the bedroom, leaving their half drunk tea to grow cold.

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

True to his word, Harry stayed for breakfast the next morning and told Draco 'I love you' before leaving for the day.

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

(Part 6)

#drarry #fin #100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #part 7 #happy ending #as promised #idiots in love #resolved pining #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlet #drarry fics #auror partners #love #accidental bonding #it was not the bond

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ynscrazylife · 3 years

Note

i’m a simple gal...... i like seeing natasha being overprotective and a little homicidal SO could i please request some cute mentor!almost itherlynat x reader? maybe reader gets badly hurt during training or someone on the team hurts her feelings? mamabear stabs? 🥺

More Than A Mentor | n.r fluff fic

Summary: After an accident, Y/N realizes her and Natasha’s relationship goes beyond mentor and mentee.

Authors Note: Thank you for requesting! I’ve missed writing Marvel/Natasha.

MCU Masterlist #1 | MCU Masterlist #2 | Main Masterlist

Request to be on a Taglist (or multiple) here! (Taglists are at the end of the fic)

PSA: Do NOT copy, steal, translate, plagiarize, republish, etc any of my works on Tumblr or any other platform. Also, do NOT claim any of my works as your own. All of works are either requests I’ve gotten that people have wanted me to write or original ideas I’ve had for works. If you happen to take inspiration from anything I’ve written and want to write something inspired by that, please a) ask me first and b) IF I say yes, credit me as inspo in your post by tagging me and link whatever work of mine that inspired you. Thanks.

header c @/marvelocks

Natasha was not an easy mentor, and Y/N learned that quickly. She was understanding and patient, yes, but she also knew when to push Y/N and went to be a little stricter.

The thing was, Y/N was never completely sure what side she’d get of her mentor at what time - though she found herself not having to worry about it after . . . The Accident.

That disastrous day would go down in the team’s history, yet no one liked to talk about it. It was a day Y/N would never forget: it changed . . . everything.

It was one of the rare days that Y/N wasn’t training with Natasha. She had a meeting with Fury so Steve filled in for her. Y/N was not accustomed to training with a super soldier, and had to quickly adjust (it didn’t make it any easier that he had his shield, too).

She was doing well - at least, she wanted to think that she was - and so far had deflected almost every punch from Steve, managing to get one or two punches against him herself.

Nonetheless, the air was knocked out of her when Steve slammed her against the mat. She grunted, angry only fueling the pain when she saw that stupid smirk on his face, and used that to her advantage; he wouldn’t expect her to recover so quickly (and in truth, neither did she) but she did it anyway, throwing all her weight against the Captain. She secured he legs around his waist like Natasha taught her and, using the strength in her legs and pushing his broad shoulders, just about managed to get herself out from being pinned on the mat. Now, though, they were both sorta sitting on the mat, so Y/N kneed him in the chest, pushing him down.

“You’re good,” he whispered, just slightly out of breath, before he - seemingly without using any strength at all - threw her to the side where she rolled.

Y/N cursed under her breath, getting her feet. It was impossible to win against a super-soldier! Think, Y/N, think, what did Natasha teach you? Cmon!

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Steve grabbing his shield, and got in a stance to either catch it or evade it - she hadn't decided yet - when yells distracted her. In her hyped up, adrenaline-pumped state, the first thing that came to Y/N’s mind was that someone was hurt. She was about to call of the training when a large, solid force smacked into her stomach, sending her flying into the air where she hit the wall, losing consciousness.

Steve's eyes widened, not thinking it’d actually hit her, and jumped into action. “Who the hell screamed?” The blonde yelled as he ran to his fallen teammate. He carefully turned her on her back and looked her over for injuries, seeing bruises and bleeding starting to form on her stomach and ankle and her head bleeding.

Bucky and Sam practically crashed inside the room, trying to beat each other.

“He threatened me!” Sam exclaimed.

“He tried to steal my metal arm!” Bucky defended.

Both men came to a screeching halt when they digested the scene, though. Steve rolled his eyes at his idiotic friends and tried to put pressure on Y/N’s head wound. “Sam, get Bruce, please. Tell him to prepare med - and Bucky, get Natasha. She’ll want to be here,” he ordered, and the men nodded, guilty.

Steve carefully picked Y/N up in his arms and hoisted her into the air, carrying her to med where Bruce and Helen were, Sam explaining the situation to them. Instantly, Helen jumped into action. She instructed Steve to lay Y/N down on one of the med’s beds and then ushered the men out of the room, where she then began grabbing various medical things and assessing Y/N’s injuries, instructing Bruce to hook her up to an IV.

Steve and Sam stood outside, not saying a word to each other, both pacing back and forth. They did not have to be silent for long, though, because pounding footsteps soon approached and the men looked up to see a very furious Natasha with Bucky trailing behind her.

The redhead’s eyes fell onto the closed med doors and huffed, turning back to Steve. “I leave her with you for training one day and she gets hurt?!” She demanded, crossing her arms and glaring at him.

Steve swallowed. “Nat, I-” He began to say, but was cut off.

“What happened?” Natasha asked.

Steve glanced up at her, first irritated when she asked him a question and then interrupted him whilst he was answering, but backed off when he saw the urgency, the nervousness in her eyes; she was scared. Scared that Y/N was really hurt and guilty.

“We were training. I threw my shield at her, expecting her to catch it or duck . . . But Sam and Buck distracted her and it hit her,” he said, not wanting to throw his friends under the bus but also knowing he had to be truthful.

Natasha stood in place, processing the information. She took a breath, and had almost completely calmed down when Bucky decided to open his mouth.

“Y’know, if anything we tested her. What if someone yelled during a mission? Is she gonna get distracted then?” He mumbled, not really meaning it but wanting to spare him and Sam Natasha’s wrath.

Karma’s a bitch, though, because it did the exact opposite.

If you blinked you’d miss it: Natasha swiftly turned and pushed Bucky against the wall, pinning him there with his hands above his hand.

“Don’t you dare start blaming this on Y/N, you hear me?” She said in a low tone, glaring.

Bucky quickly nodded and Natasha released him. When she did, the door opened and Helen appeared.

“She’ll be okay—” Helen began, and Natasha let out a breath of relief, “—but she does need to be off training for at least a month. She has a concussion, broken ankle, and . . . the shield sort of stabbed her in her stomach.”

It took a couple moments for all four to digest this. Steve paled and Natasha’s crossed arms for tighter as she bit her lip. “Can I see her?” She asked.

“She’s still unconscious, but yes,” Helen answered, nodding.

Natasha almost failed to contain the gasp lurching to leave her throat when she saw Y/N, all bandaged up. The spy gulped and sat down beside her, not knowing what else to do other than sit there, and had no clue what she’d say when Y/N woke up because she sure as hell wasn’t leaving her. Thankfully, Natasha had some time to think it out.

Almost a day later and Natasha hadn’t left — Clint had convinced her to go sleep and eat for a couple hours, but that was it — and now, Y/N woke up.

“Ms. Romanoff?” Y/N murmured in a haze of confusion, squinting her eyes to see her mentor curled up in a chair, reading a big book.

Natasha snapped her head up and immediately sat forward, a smile covering her face. “Y/N! You’re awake? How are you feeling? And how many times have I told you to call me ‘Natasha’?”

Y/N blushed but nodded. “I’m fine, probably the painkillers’ doing though . . . How long was I out?” She said.

“Around a day,” Natasha answered.

“Did you . . . Did you stay here?” Y/N asked again, a little smaller this time, playing with her blanket.

“Most of it, yeah,” Natasha murmured, relaxing into the chair.

“Really? You’re-you’re not mad?” Y/N said, eyes wide and jaw dropped in surprised.

Natasha scrunched her face up. “What? No — of course I’m not mad! You’re like my daughter! How could I be—?”

Natasha was cut off by Y/N’s loud, yet thankful gasp. The teenager sat up and wrapped her arms around Natasha and, after a moment, Natasha smiled and wrapped her arms around her too.

Y/N truly was like her daughter, and mothers were always protective over their children.

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MCU Taglist: @stephanieromanoff @summerlovingbaby @ineffablebean @okkulta @procrastinatingsapphictrash @prettysbliss @mochamoff @sarahp-stan @thewidowsghost @basiclesbianbitch @mycosmicparadise @kidswhofightmonsters @extraordinary-fangrl @peggycarter-steverogers @username23345 @ima-gi--na-tion @hateinthemorning @hi-i-1 @mmmmokdok @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @mads-weasley @tenaciousperfectionunknown

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years

Text

MC’s half Demon, and they look AWFULLY familiar...

‘Kay guys, I got a different kind of stupid Headcanon to throw at you. Get ready!

Part 2 Lessons 1-5 Part 2.5 Group Retreat Lessons 10-12 Lessons 13-15 Part 3 Part 4

*ahem* picture if you will, it’s the day the exchange program is set to start. The student council (nix Mr. Kill All Humans, Weeb-supreme, and our Scummy Sweetheart) have assembled to welcome the new human student. All is going according to schedule, the portal opens up at eight am sharp, they hear the pitiful screams of the selected human who was not given a heads up about the whole thing, and the poor little human falls straight onto the marble floor.

There’s something a tad... off about this human don’t you think? After they’ve peeled their sorry ass off the floor they observed the assembled student council with an air of sophistication and self importance that no one expected. Their posture was perfect, their eyes sharp and calculating... they bared a striking resemblance to-

“Lucifer,” Diavolo looked to his right hand man, then back to the human. “The human kind of looks like you!”

And out popped four pitch black wings from the human’s back and two small horns out of the sides of their head, one horn was a bit bigger than the other. They even still had some of their down feathers! How cute!

((Content warning: Swearing (I have a potty mouth, forgive me), but that’s it.))

Luci-dad

So, the MC is Lucifer’s kid! Of course Mr. Prideypants immediately tries to recall exactly what little romp in the human world uh... spawned this half-human half-demon child of his. Good thing MC’s got the other parent on speed-dial.

“Please note, MC,” Lucifer pinched the bridge of his nose upon hearing Asmo take even more pictures of his newly discovered hellspawn. “I was not aware of your existence, if I was I’d-”

“Don’t worry about it. I’m not upset.”

Lucifer blinked a few times in surprise. “P...pardon? You aren’t upset?”

“No, my parent told me that my father was a high ranking demon, and they bare no ill will against you. Though, I am looking forward to this whole... exchange program thing.”

Oh wow, that was easier than Lucifer thought. Damn. Well, he was a father... (let’s be real, he’s been parenting his brothers for thousands of years, and a good chunk of you sinners call him daddy)

MC is probably the most protected student at RAD, despite the fact that they have no visible security detail whatsoever. They didn’t want to be seen as... weak and pathetic.

Something about this human just... set the lesser demons on edge. Any talk of eating them was stamped out on the first day when they walked by. It’s like Lucifer himself was staring at them, daring the demons to try and bother the human. MC’s powerful presence kept them protected and feared.

...at least until dear uncle Asmo decided to do their hair one morning. All those ribbons may have looked adorable but they kind of ruined the intimidation factor.

MC loved to mess with the other students, keeping their lineage a secret for the first little while just made it so much funnier when the other demons tried to scramble out of MC’s way without looking like they were running from the ‘weak little human exchange student’.

Oh wow, what a sadist. Like father like child

Flying lessons are a must. Poor MC isn’t terribly good at controlling their wings, and their horns are still growing in so when they pop into their demon form the first thing they get is a sore skull. Ow... it sucks that Lucifer isn’t outwardly very sympathetic.

“Ow!” MC crashed face first into the grass in the backyard of the House of Lamentation. “Father! My wings are cramping! Can’t we practice this tomorrow?”

The sight of seeing his dear child crash face first into the ground had lost its hilarity after the first three times. Lucifer slowly lowered himself to the ground and crossed his arms as he stood over his incredibly grass-stained kid.

“MC, we’ve been ‘practicing this tomorrow’ for the past month. If you want to learn to fly you’re going to have to actually manage to stay in the air for more than three minutes.”

MC shot Lucifer a withering glare that only preteens were capable of, Lucifer matched it with his own much more sophisticated glare.

“You’ve been flying for over a thousand years! Don’t you have any tips that can actually help other than ‘don’t panic, you’ll look ridiculous’?”

Lucifer dragged a gloved hand down his face and looked around, the two were alone as far as he could see.

“MC,” Lucifer began. “When I was a young angel, I needed to learn how to fly with someone else.”

MC perked up. “Who?”

“Michael. The smug bastard picked up flying quicker than I did.”

“What’d you do?!”

Lucifer smiled at his child’s intense investment. “I practiced flying every day for five extra hours until I could do everything that Michael could do, just better.”

MC’s starry eyed interest died almost instantly upon hearing about the extra five hours of practice. “Humph, I bet I could outfly younger you and Michael with only two hours of practice a day.”

“Really now?”

“Yes! Watch!” MC shook off their wings and took off in a running start before shakily making it into the air. Their form was decent enough, and they weren’t shaking as much as the previous attempts. “SEE?!”

“Yes MC,” Lucifer smiled. “I can see.”

You know what else Lucifer could see? MC crashing right into a tree.

“Ouch...”

Okay... maybe they could halt practice a little early and order a treat from Madame Scream’s. A little sugar to refuel is needed when the end goal is crushing a mutual rival beneath their heels. Just some good old fashioned father/child bonding time!

MC has a smaller seat right next to Lucifer’s seat in the Assembly Hall. I will not compromise on this one.

For all your fluff needs, I give you: Lucifer teaching MC how to play the piano. He has a proud little smile on his face when his kid finally starts getting it. That’s all. Enjoy the image.

That one Uncle who gives you Alcohol at Family Gatherings (Mammon)

Yeah, when Mammon burst in late to the party and whining about everyone’s spamming him with texts to haul his scummy ass to the Assembly Hall, the last thing he expected was to see a mini-Lucifer.

“What the fuck am I lookin’ at?!”

The glare the two Lucifers gave the poor Avatar of Greed was enough to make him want to turn tail (uh, wing) and book it down the hall.

“Mammon, this is MC. They’re my child.”

“Hello.”

“...whaaaa..?” Mammon looked between the two, same glare, same intimidating aura, same annoyingly good posture.

Mammon scratched the back of his neck and looked over at his older brother. “Do I uh... still gotta babysit em’ if they’re not human?”

“The lake of Cocytus will melt the day I let you babysit without supervision.” Lucifer grumbled.

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

Despite Lucifer’s initial denial, Mammon and MC ended up spending a lot of time hanging out when Lucifer was busy with paperwork. Of course Mammon’s first thought was ‘how do I profit off this situation?’

MC is now Mammon’s designated babysitter after they caught him picking up their feathers that had fallen off with the intention of painting them white and claiming they were Lucifer’s from back in the Celestial Realm.

Mammon does end up spoiling MC a little. Just a smidge. They’re the kid of his totally not his favourite brother after all! How could he not? Whether or not these gifts are obtained legally or are legal at all is subject to scrutiny.

“Mammon, I can’t drink this!” MC placed the bottle of Demonus back on the counter of the kitchen.

“Why not? That’s a bottle of the good stuff! We gotta celebrate you gettin’ an A on that test somehow!”

“I’m underage! Incredibly underage. I’m not legally allowed to drink.”

Mammon wordlessly plopped a silly straw into the bottle. “...does that help?”

“No.” MC then inclined their head to the bottle. “And I don’t want to get hung from the ceiling, that bottle was in my father’s study yesterday, I’m above theft.”

“How old are you s’posed to be anyway? Never mind... uh...” Mammon wracked his brain for something else he could do for MC that didn’t cost anything (don’t judge him, the poor bastard was flat broke!). “I could... teach you to drive!”

“Driving?”

“Yeah! Drivin’ is awesome! We can take my car!”

The bills for the damages done to the car and the Devildom were mailed to Lucifer the next day, and MC and Mammon got to keep each other company as they hung from the ceiling. Ah well! At least MC wasn’t upside down!

Mammon wasn’t that good of a flight teacher either, he also crashed into a tree (the same tree MC crashed into, actually) when he was cheering for MC. They were finally able to do a loopdy loop! He was proud and distracted! Okay?! Lucifer! Stop smirkin’ at him! It’s not that funny!

At least the vantage point from the tree was decent and the branches didn’t scratch him up too badly. Oh hey... that person walking by was wearing a very nice watch... he’d be right back-

That Uncle That is Always Absent From Family Gatherings and When He is Present He Leaves Early (Levi)

He missed everything. That is not an exaggeration. He was in the middle of an online raid battle and couldn’t look at his phone! No Lucifer he can’t pause an online game! That’s not how it works!

Okay, the human exchange student is half demon? WOAH! THAT’S JUST LIKE THAT ONE ANIME- W A I T. THE LITTLE NORMIE IS LUCIFER’S KID?!

Okie doke, he was fully convinced that MC just had to be an anime protagonist.

They binged every series that Levi compared them to. Sure MC might have missed a few assignments because of late night anime binges, but they were too good for this school crap anyway, right?

Nope. Lucifer put a ban on the two watching anime until both their grades improved. Surviving that hell brought the two together.

“Ugh!”

The sound of a pencil case being haphazardly thrown across the room made Levi peek out of his bed-tub. If his figurines got knocked over so HELP HIM-

“This is stupid!!I shouldn’t have to catch up with this!” MC crossed their arms and gave their Demonology textbook their best disapproving glare.

Lucifer Lite (tm) was having a hell of a time trying to claw through their missed work, and Levi sympathized, he really did, it’s just... he was playing Animal Crossing-

Levi paused the game to placate his anime-buddy when their wings popped out and he feared for his rare merch’s safety.

“H-hey, MC? Do you need help?” Levi’s offer was met with a bone chilling glare that lived rent free in his nightmares ever since. He had pulled a Mammon and forgotten he was talking to Lucifer’s child. Lucifer’s allergy to help must have passed down to MC.

“No! I don’t! It’s just... dumb!” MC hissed, she turned and looked over at the fish tank. “Right Henry 2.0?”

Henry 2.0 did not respond.

“MC, you need to finish your homework or we can’t watch anything together,” Levi sighed, he had finished his work over an hour earlier. He had mastered the art of all night anime binges and managing to do most of his work in the fifteen minutes between the time he woke up and the time school was supposed to begin. “We haven’t even binged all of volume 4 of TSL yet!”

“Mmm...” MC grumbled. “Fine...”

MC picked up their pencil case and began continued their work. Levi breathed a sigh of relief and went back to Animal Crossing.

The tiny normie did in fact finish their work, only after they caved and asked Levi for help. Swore him to secrecy, they did... very intimidating, they were.

Just saying, he most definitely sent that one Keanu Reeves meme with big Keanu and little Keanu but with Lucifer and MC to the wrong group chat. Poor bastard.

Flying lessons? No. Levi hadn’t flown since his time in the Celestial Realm, he had no advice to give other than: “Flap your wings!”

“THAT’S WHAT I’M DOING YOU-”

MC didn’t get to finish that thought, they lost their balance and fell right into RAD’s fountain. Ah well, Levi had a head start on running for his life that he squandered by laughing at MC. RIP.

The Uncle/brother/whatever the fuck that Starts a Fight With Your Dad at the Family Reunion. (Satan)

Oh... another Lucifer? Eugh. Gross.

Satan gave the kid a wide berth when they first met. Everything the kid said or did ticked him off. “Tsk. Look at MC. Making an omelette. So annoying.” “Oh wow, MC vacuumed? Roll out the red carpet, we need to celebrate their existence!” “Look at them. Breathing. Disgusting.”

MC’s pride wouldn’t ever let them admit it but... they knew Satan didn’t like them, and it hurt their feelings.

“Shhhh,” Satan whispered into his backpack.

“Meow.” The backpack replied.

“I said shhhhh.”

The backpack did not reply after that, which was a good thing considering the little princet of the HOL was nearby.

“Satan?” They asked. “Who are you talking to?”

Satan coldly brushed past them as he made his way to his room. “No one you need to concern yourself with.”

When the little calico kitten was safe in his room, Satan quickly realized a mistake in his foolproof ‘sneak a cat into the house’ plan. He didn’t have any toys for the kitten, and he didn’t want his books getting scratched...

It was alright, he’d just rush out to the a store that sold cat things and rush back! Five minute trip tops!

Well when Satan got back the cat was no longer in the room. Oh dear. He discreetly tore apart the house looking for the poor little thing until he ended up finding it in the library, happily chasing around a loose feather being held up by MC.

“Oh, hello Satan.” MC chirped as the kitten batted it’s adorable little paws at the feather.

“My... my door was closed. Did you let the cat out?”

MC shrugged. “I heard meowing.”

Satan ran a hand through his hair and grumbled. Stupid smaller Lucifer. Stupid original Lucifer. Everyone sucked.

“Let me guess, you’re going to run to Lucifer and tell him all about the meowing and the rule breaking.”

MC shook their head and glared at Satan. “Of course not. I’ve already gotten way too attached to this little guy anyway. We’re co-parenting this kitten like mature adults.”

With some coaxing, Satan did sit down and play with the kitten, maybe MC wasn’t... so terrible.

The two watch Unsolved Mysteries together, that’s their show. “This guy did it.” “Satan, we’re two minutes into the episode-” “Trust me.”

Thirty minutes later.

“He did it.” “See MC, what’d I tell you?”

Lucifer did find out about the cat, but with enough pleading, MC and Satan managed to warm up the cold spot in Lucifer’s chest where his heart should have been. The cat’s name is Detective Toe Beans (or just Bean).

Satan can’t fly, he has a tail, but he did read up on wing anatomy and how flight actually works in demons, his advice would be good in theory, but it’s full of so much technical jargon that MC can’t understand it.

At least MC didn’t crash into something, they barrel rolled through one of the HOL’s windows. Good thing it was the window to their room. The broken arm still hurt like hell.

The Best Dressed Bitch Who Brings The Booze to The Reunion. (Asmo)

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

Lucifer’s kid was SO CUTE! A thousand pictures commemorating that adorable moment needed to be taken! Wait- Lucifer- GIVE BACK THE PHONE-

Asmo, surprise surprise, absolutely adores little MC! So cute! So small! He was just so excited to announce to all his Devilgram followers that Lucifer was finally a certified DILF.

That post disappeared five minutes after it was made but the damage had already been done.

Asmo made sure MC looked their best at all times, if they needed help talking to anyone? Asmo’s got their back!

Sure, maybe he’s a little pushy, but pushy’s a good thing sometimes, right?

“Asmodeus-”

“No, these shoes wouldn’t fit you...”

“Asmo-”

“No, not these ones either...”

“ASMODEUS.”

Asmo squeaked and jumped upwards, Geez Louise... little MC’s voice could sure be scary when they wanted it to be...

“I don’t need any fancy new shoes.” MC huffed, sitting up straighter in one of the chairs in Asmo’s room. “I thought this was supposed to be a sleepover.”

“Hmmm...” Asmo pouted. “Makeovers are an essential part of sleepovers... what’d you do with your human friends up in the human world that could possibly be better than a make-over?!”

MC began to list things off. “Ordered junk food, talked about people we hated, watched movies,”

“Greasy food is so bad for your skin...” Asmo cringed and shook his head violently. “But I’m totally down to watch a movie and bitch about people I hate!”

“Ah yes, human sleepovers, a tradition I never quite had the chance to enjoy.” Solomon said from Asmo’s bed. “Who are we bitching about?”

“Remind me what Solomon is doing here.” MC muttered as they sat down in front of Asmo’s TV.

“Because, I wanted to hang out with my two favourite humans.” Asmo cooed, reaching over and trying to pinch MC’s cheek, which they awkwardly dodged.

“Can we watch The Exorcist?” Solomon asked, propping his head up with his hands.

“Ew, no.” Asmo made a face at him. “That scene with the vomit? Hell NO.”

“Mm.” MC mumbled. Asmo turned to look at them.

“MC? Are you doing okay? You don’t look like you’re having any fun...”

“I’m fine.” MC grumbled.

Asmo pursed his lips, as much as it made his little narcissistic heart break, he nudged MC. “Why don’t you pick the movie, sweetie. I’m sure Solomon and I will like anything you pick!”

MC noticeably brightened. “Let’s watch Scream!”

The strangled noise that came from Asmo was... concerning, but to his credit, The Avatar of Lust held his tongue about his distaste for the movie, and the three slumber-party goers had quite the lovely time.

After the movie ended, MC went back to their room, sure it was a sleepover but their bed was right down the hall.

Good for Asmo and Solomon. Horny fuckers. We stan.

Asmo just claps and tries to cheer MC on when it comes to their flying lessons. (The idea that Asmo came up with to wear his cheerleader costume from the previous Halloween was immediately shot down by Lucifer)

“You’re doing wonderful, MC- WATCH OUT FOR THE POWER LINE!”

MC didn’t hit the power line, but Asmo’s scream of terror caused them to fall butt-first into a dumpster. Their injured tailbone served as a tragic memory of the incident.

Oh well, good thing Asmo had nice smelling soap to give that could mask dumpster-stink.

The Uncle that eats everything and tells you to eat your veggies while you angrily pick at your broccoli at the kid’s table. (Beel)

Lucifer... has a kid?! Beel choked on the cheetos he had snuck into the Assembly Hall when the kid’s wings popped out.

Oh wow, that’s nice :) maybe they can eat together. Belphie would probably like them.

Wait what is the gender neutral term for Niece or Nephew?

...Nibling? Uh... let’s not say that around Beel. We don’t need him to get hungrier and begin associating MC with nibbling on things.

The Underground Tomb incident probably went a little differently, but after all that nonsense, the two are closer than two peas in a pod!

Mmm... peas...

“Beel?” MC stepped into the Avatar of Gluttony’s room.

“Hi MC.” Beel was doing push-ups in the middle of the room, on the ground right beneath his head was a massive bowl of spaghetti that he bit into every time he completed a push-up. “Can you come stand on my back? I need the extra weight.”

“On your back?” MC padded closer. “Are you sure? It’s not going to hurt?”

“No, it’ll be okay.” Beel assured them. “Belphie and I did this all the time. Except Belphie is normally asleep.”

MC tentatively stepped onto Beel’s back. It was a balancing act to say the least, they eventually gave up on standing and ended up sitting cross legged between Beel’s shoulder blades.

“You did this with Belphegor?” MC asked.

“Yeah,” Beel sighed. “He was always too tired to exercise, but he’d let me bench press him sometimes...”

MC frowned and hugged their knees to their chest. Knowing full well that Beel’s twin wasn’t in the human world like Lucifer said was absolutely ripping them apart from the inside. Guilt felt just as rotten as their pride did when they were being belittled...

“Maybe you’ll see him again sometime soon.” MC whispered. “Maybe my father’ll come to his senses and let him come back down to the Devildom.”

Beel paused his push-ups for a brief moment, then nodded and went back to his eating exercising combo. “I hope so. He’ll like you, MC. I’m sure of it.”

MC nodded. “I... hope so.”

Beel’s a pretty decent flight teacher, but his wings are just so different from MC’s that it renders any tips he had next to useless.

“MC, maybe your wings aren’t flapping fast enough.”

“Beel, I appreciate the thought, but I’m not a hummingbird. Or a fly. I don’t need to flap my wings a million times a minute to stay afloat.”

Ah well, MC tried to take some of Beel’s advice, but their lower right wing cramped up and they ended up flying in circles until Beel was able to catch them. Ah well, better than the dumpster incident the previous week.

The Uncle That Passes Out in The Basement and You’re Not Allowed to Wake Him Up Even Though All Your Toys and Video Games Are Down There. He Also Picks a Fight With Your Dad’s New S/O Before He Passes Out. (Belphie)

Sitting in the attic was quite a drag, and this supposedly weak little human was quite the annoyance to try and call out to. It took a lot longer than expected, but when he heard little footsteps coming towards his prison, Belphegor nearly jumped with joy.

Oh... it... looked like Lucifer. Smelled like Lucifer. Stood like Lucifer. Quacked like Lucifer. Or... trilled..? Whatever sound a peacock made, this brat sounded an awful lot like Lucifer.

A... half-demon. Hmph. Belphie honestly thought Lucifer had actual standards. Not anymore, he guessed.

(Man I could fill a whole-ass fic with the Belphie betrayal thing, but for now let’s skip to post attic nonsense)

Okay so maybe MC wasn’t disgusting. They made a good nap buddy. It was cute when their wings came out when they were sleeping sometimes. Well... it was cute when they didn’t hit him in the face and make him wake up with his mouth full of feathers.

What Beel said had been true, Belphie made a good substitute when weights weren’t available, but Beel didn’t want MC to feel left out, so Belphie and MC ended up sitting on his back while he did push ups. MC once got bored and started playing Go Fish with Belphie on Beel’s back while he exercised.

Yes. MC is still a member of the Formerly-Anti-Lucifer League.

“Are you sure he’s not going to be too mad at us?” MC asked for the dozenth time that day. Detective Toe Beans was wrapped around their neck like a scarf (he had gotten so big!!!) while MC nervously sat in one of the Library chairs.

“Positive.” Belphie said with a toothy grin. “Besides, he’s like putty when it comes to you. Just give him your best puppy eyes and we’re not guilty on all charges.”

Putty..? Really..? Lucifer..? How strict was he before MC got there... they wondered.

“Sh! He’s coming!” Satan stuck his nose into a random book, it was the Oxford English Dictionary... and it was upside down.

Belphie pretended to pass out and MC decided that the best course of action was to stare deeply into their cat’s eyes. Yeah... that looked casual and not weird.

“Satan, MC, Belphie.” Lucifer nodded to the three of them as he walked towards the entrance to his study.

“Lucifer.”

“Afternoon, father.”

Belphie let out a cartoonishly loud fake snore that nearly caused both MC and Satan to break cover and start laughing.

Side note, Bean had adorable widdle eyes! That cute little face was just to die for-

“You three..!”

Belphie, Satan, and MC peeked their heads into Lucifer’s study, their handiwork was perfect. Everything was covered in red post it notes. Perfectly not harmful, but SO inconvenient!

“You’re all cleaning this up or so help me-”

“GO!” Belphie and Satan each grabbed one of MC’s arms (Satan also grabbed Bean) and sprinted out of the House of Lamentation. Maybe they’d move back there in twenty years... they hoped that Solomon and The Angels would let them crash at Purgatory Hall...

Belphie had used up his physical energy supply for the next four years. He passed out the moment they stepped into sanctuary. Time for a nap...

Flight practice? Ha. Belphie’s napping. Though, he was suspiciously awake and filming whenever MC did something stupid.

“Try not to suck so bad.”

“GO TO HELL BELPHIE!”

“I’m already there. Hell is every second I’m stuck here watching you fail.”

“YOU’RE GOING TO GET IT FOR THAT!”

Well... MC mastered the dive bomb that day. Lucifer bought them a cake.

Bonus! Your Dad’s New Husband! That Has Managed to Somehow Make Everyone Hate Him Despite the Fact That He’s A Cinnamon Roll. (Diavolo)

A mini Lucifer? A mini Lucifer!

Diavolo dotes on MC like he’d dote on his own kid. MC wants a crown? They’re getting a crown! A damn nice one too! MC wants a title? Here! MC is now... idk Ruler of the area between Majolish and Hell’s Kitchen.

Poor Uncle Mammon’s got some financial insecurity, he’s still the cool uncle... right?!

He is very much that ‘how do you do fellow kids?’ Meme.

He tries to do stereotypical ‘dad’ things but he’s not very good at them. Once he tried to host a barbecue...

Barbatos saved the day, but Mammon’s hair was still singed, Solomon’s cooking still gave Beel food poisoning (SOLOMON EATS TOXIC WASTE I SWEAR-), Luke still got hit in the face with a frisbee, and Simeon got an unhealthy dose of DAD NERVES and got so stressed everyone was almost blinded by the holy light he suddenly started blasting. We do not mention the water guns.

(Seriously whose bright idea was it to give Belphie and Satan water guns while they were in Lucifer’s presence?)

Praise Barbie. He’s too good for them.

“Um...” MC awkwardly held up the baseball, trying to look at it from all angles like it was a completely alien object. “Lord Diavolo... are you sure you want to play catch?”

Diavolo clapped his hands and bounced on the balls of his feet. “Yes! It’s a thing human fathers do with their children, correct? We must make up for lost time between you and Lucifer, right?”

Lucifer massaged his temples and nodded. “If you two would like to play catch...” Lucifer grimaced. “I will too.”

“Okay! MC, throw the ball to Lucifer!” Diavolo instructed.

Lucifer half heartedly held up his baseball glove as MC tossed him the ball. He caught it, and looked over at Diavolo, who was applauding like he just witnessed the greatest feat in sports history.

“Okay! Throw it to me!” Diavolo waved his glove in the air, Lucifer rolled his eyes and smiled. He threw the ball at Diavolo with... a lot of force. Enough force to probably dent steel... Diavolo caught it like it was nothing.

MC suddenly feared for their safety.

“Okay MC, catch!”

Diavolo threw the ball with enough force to break the god damn sound barrier. Well, maybe that was an exaggeration, but the ball sailed way over MC’s head and crashed right through a window.

“Oh my...” Diavolo put a hand on his hip and surveyed the damage to the window. “This isn’t so bad, I believe in human world TV shows this happens quite often. Look! The glass broke in a perfect circle!”

“Yay... property damage...” MC murmured.

Lucifer sighed and pulled out his DDD. “I’ll phone someone to replace the win-”

“Lucifer no! Now according to human world customs we must,” Diavolo took a deep breath, rushed forward, grabbed both Lucifer and MC’s hands and started sprinting away from the Demon Lord’s Castle. “RUN FOR IT!”

“Di- Diavolo!” Lucifer gasped.

“Who are we running from?! That’s your castle!” MC squeaked.

“I don’t know! Just run! That’s what the human TV show says to do!”

Weirdly enough, Diavolo was the best flight instructor. MC’s ability to fly increased tenfold after Diavolo found out that MC was learning to fly.

“You’re doing amazing MC! That was a perfect turn!”

“Thanks Lord Diavolo, I’m surprised I haven’t crashed into anyone or fallen yet!”

“Well, I highly doubt you’ll be crashing into anyone anymore, your flying is practically perfect now!”

Mammon proceeded to fly past them holding what looked like Lucifer’s wallet.

“M-mammon?!”

“Oh... I wonder what he’s doing. Look, MC! It’s Lucifer! Hello Lucifer dea-”

Lucifer ended up colliding with the two of them and sending them all crashing to the floor.

That was the last time MC fell during flying practice.

(We currently have a Go Fund Me set up for Mammon to get the funds necessary to flee the Devildom after that incident. Please donate to save- oh shit hi Lucifer-)

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