#anyway eventually they sort it out somehow and become the couple we all know they would be

[jarofstyles]

Reaper 11

Hellloooo! Sorry it’s taken a few weeks to update. So here we are with a cute chapter (enjoy while It lasts) and sort of domestic reaper. 

WC-10.4k

Check out our Patreon for early access and exclusive writing

warnings: a light chapter, sexy conversations, reaper in his element (the soft kind), cute couple things ---------------------------

“Wow, that was easy.” Bunny spoke under her breath as they approached the lounge. She was still blown away by how the club had managed to get away with this, how they totally passed through security in a blink. “Why aren’t we sitting—“

Her words were cut off by the automatic doors that opened up to a lounge for the airline's members. Massage chairs, complimentary snacks, TVs, Charging stations. All in private.

“Have a seat anywhere, baby.” Harry cooed, pressing a kiss to the top of her head and letting her explore the area before he himself went to get them some snacks for the journey. He wanted to distract her, he promised this trip he would focus on nothing but her. It’s what she deserved.

He felt himself unwinding with every moment that passed, he knew there was virtually no way that this guy could have tracked them here. Of course, he could never be 100% sure.

He had grabbed a few different snacks, his tendencies wanting to hoard them all in his duffle to bring with them but trying to be chill about it as he chose what he knew they liked and brought them over to the little table and chair she had chosen.

Their new phones were something she was still setting up. Their old ones still sat in the clubhouse and would be brought out every so often but sitting dormant would be better and no one had these numbers but Viper, Wiz and her mother. Thankfully she was now the priority to guard.

Being the wife of a member? She knew not to ask questions when people said they were being guarded. Y/N had begged to keep most of this from her in case the stalker got desperate and went to her instead, which they’d all hesitantly agreed to. Besides, she didn’t seem like a target anyways. They’d keep it that way.

“They’ve got those mini powdered donuts.” He murmured. “And the charged lemonades.. with caffeine. Some chips. The lemon cookies y’love.” He placed them one by one on the table. “But you can go n’look at the snacks if you want something different. There’s some fruit cups but I wasn’t sure if you wanted anything like that.” He didn’t want to waste fresh fruit.

Considering Harry used to not know where or when meals would come from as a child, he had a complicated relationship with food. He never wasted it. Cleaned his plate. He got panicky about it sometimes but that was something no one else knew. Bunny would, eventually. Maybe he would tell her in London.

There was a lot she needed to know.

Bunny looked at this assortment of snacks, feeling a smile creep on her face as she noticed how soft he seemed in that moment. Harry was fully back with her and she could see his body become less tense as he sat down next to her once again.

“Thank you,” She spoke softly, leaning over to press a kiss to his cheek. She didn’t have the heart to tell him all this sugar would likely have her bouncing in the plane, but she’d definitely knew she’d end up sleeping for some of the nearly 10 hour journey.

“Are you gonna eat anything?” Bunny wanted to make sure he had something in his stomach. They didn’t get to eat lunch and he was definitely drained from the intense waves of emotion he’d gone through today. Without another word she opened the bag of powdered donuts and fed him one, not giving him a moment to decline.

It was then that the ring on his finger caught her eye, remembering she’d had one on too. Married they were supposed to be. She wondered if Harry had ever pictured himself getting married or if it’s something he ever wanted. Something told her the answer had been no.

Harry chewed the donut, brow raised as she had basically force fed him. Somehow, he didn’t mind. He was going to eat but he wanted to make sure she was taken care of first, however it seemed like they both had similar mindsets.

He caught her glance at the faux wedding band on his finger, smiling to himself before wiping the powdered sugar that was surely on the corners of his lips. It was going to be a relief to be away from the whole scenario, yes, but he was excited to play pretend for a bit. To be someone else who potentially never had to worry about stalkers or cartel or trafficking or addictions. They could pretend to be people who’s biggest worries were what color white to paint their new home’s foyer.

“Know they aren’t the gourmet things you make, but those packets of powdered donuts are good.” He mumbled, leaning back in the seat and spreading his thighs as he stretched out. The lack of sleep and tense muscles were starting to have effects and it was annoying, but he would worry about that once they were on the plane. He’d probably pass out the moment they were off, knowing she would be tucked safely in the space next to him.

“I grabbed a few packets for crisps for myself and the ride. A few bottles to drink. They’ve got that fancy water. Swiped a few of those, though I kind of think they’re full of shit for sayin’ there’s all these extra benefits. How do they even know?”

Bunny was so endeared by him, the way his habits continued to shine through even in moments where he thought he was playing the part. It seemed he visibly relaxed as they began boarding the plane, insisting that she sat in the window seat to protect her from any possible dangers. Even in the privacy of first class, Harry knew he could never be sure.

Anytime he let his guard down it seemed to be when they creep made his moves. He wouldn’t let it happen again. No.

“You cold?” He asked softly, setting their backpacks in the overhead compartment but not before pulling out a hoodie for her to wear. The seats were roomy, it pissed him off that there was a massive space between them where the armrest was, but he figured once they were in the air she could find a place to rest on top of him. That would be much better.

“Thank you, baby.” Bunny cooed, slipping into the oversized hoodie. It smelled just like him, she relaxed immediately.

Harry liked seeing her like that. Curled up in her seat with his hoodie on her body, fingers curling around the cuff of the sleeve. Being able to experience this sort of thing made him feel a mix of happiness and guilt.

He still felt stupidly guilty about the fact that he had found the clubhouse. Granted, he knew logically it wasn’t his fault. The guy was a freak, a stalker, a psychopath. He was going to do shit if he wanted to do it. That still didn’t mean Harry was okay with how shit went.

Now that they were in the plane, though, and he had a pretty good feeling that she was safe, he allowed himself to smile slightly. Enjoying the sight of her, the idea of London after being away for a while, letting her see London and hopefully not have to worry for a few days.

“Didn’t know first class would mean y’can’t sit close to me.” He grumbled slightly, feeling needy. It was so foreign for him. He almost cringed at his own actions. Since when had he become someone who craved physical touch? Wanting to pull her body and feel the weight of it rest on top of him? He didn’t have a damn clue. It just happened with her.

“I didn’t think so either,” Bunny pouted, reaching a hand out to cup his cheek. “We have to be here for a while, I’m sure once we are in the air I can sit with you.” She smiled and leaned in to steal a kiss quickly before settling back in her seat.

It was big and comfortable, she was able to fully recline and sleep if she wanted to. A TV for each of them. She felt very fancy, especially when the flight attendant came to hand them some mimosas to start their journey. It’s been a while since Bunny had been able to drink, she was too preoccupied with staying safe. It felt nice to indulge even if it was from a plastic cup on a plane.

“You want mine as well?” Harry asked, raising a brow. He was thinking it would help her relax a bit, maybe enough to fall asleep.

“No, you have to drink yours too. It’s part of a trip, come on!” She giggled, moving to tap her cup against his.

“Cheers to the Davison’s”

“Course. My wife.” He gave her a little wink, a weird throbbing ebbing in his chest. The phrase itself was an odd thing to think about but he knew internally he would be milking it this whole trip. Her fake ring glittered in the artificial light making him wonder.

What kind of ring would she actually want?

He was broken from the thought when she called his name again. It was a habit he had been getting annoyed with lately. Falling into his own thoughts about her, accidentally zoning out. Imagining things. It was disgusting.

“Hm?” He looked at her with suddenly alert eyes. “M’sorry. What did you say, darling?” His thumb stroked over her wrist, gingerly moving back and forth over the pulse point.

“I said, please try and get some sleep on this flight.” Bunny spoke a bit concerned. He had been flighty all week, clearly sleeping at the clubhouse was starting to get to him. The darkness under his eyes paired with heavy eyelids masking his irritated eyes. She wished she could make this easier on him, but she knew a mental battle was always more difficult to fight.

“I’m going to try to as well. Don’t want to drive myself crazy on this plane for 10 hours.” She had a feeling her own anxiety wouldn’t let her properly shut her eyes. It’s been ages since she’d been on a plane, let alone for this long. The movies would help distract her, but having to stay this far from Harry wasn’t ideal.

“I’m actually really excited to explore London, you know?“ Bunny had an idea of what the place was like in her head, but she knew Harry would give her the most authentic experience. “Think of all the food! I mean, British food isn’t exactly the most gourmet but it’s part of the experience. Gotta take me to get tea and fish and chips and stuff.”

“Oi.” He squeezed her fingers. “Don’t knock it till y’try it. Brat. Insulting our food already, haven’t even tried it yet.” The audacity this girl had made him smile. He needed that. Needed someone to be calm and joke around with.

He knew that he was going to have difficulty sleeping. Even up in the air he felt a bit unnerved, not wanting to let her out of his sight. It was a bit of a helpless feeling, not wanting to chance her being taken the second he looked away. Realistically he knew it would be fine here. It was secure and safe and there was no way the man knew where they were with how many false trails they threw out for him.

Still, though, the paranoia hit him deep. He finally had someone he actually gave a fuck about, a girl he adored, and she was in danger. He wanted to keep her safe the best he possibly could.

“I’ll try t’sleep but I make no promises.” His sleepy face showed he may not have much of a choice in the actual thing though. Y/N could have cooed at the visual. His sleepy face was precious, however she did wish he was well rested.

“Well, I’m safe.” She muttered. “Nothing will happen to me here. You are ok to sleep. You’ve been protecting me for so long. You can rest now.”

It only took a few hours until Harry lost his battle against sleep. The lights had been turned down on the plane, snack cart long gone, nothing but the sound of white noise and shuffling from the seats around them.

Bunny wasn’t sure what it was that woke her up from her own slumber, but as she looked over to Harry’s seat she couldn’t have felt more relief. Never had she had the opportunity to watch him sleep, he was always up before her and always waited until she fell asleep before he let himself relax. If he even slept.

He looked so soft like his. His lips parted slightly, chest slowly rising and falling, his cheek pressed up against the pillow the airline provided. Bunny couldn’t help but feel warm, allowing herself to pull the blanket over him a bit more. He was deep in sleep.

Just like that she sat there and watched him, thinking about how important he was to her and how deeply she wished he could be free from the shackles of his mind. For once his brows weren’t furrowed, his jaw wasn’t tense, he was just… being.

Carefully, Bunny reached out to push some hair away from his face. She didn’t want to wake him, but he seemed to stir only slightly, leaning into her gentle touch as she began to play with his hair.

He was so beautiful. It was interesting to her because before she had met Harry, the word beautiful wouldn’t be really used to describe a man, but it was the best way to describe him. He had rough and humble hands, scars in a lot of places, but his face was angelic. Godly, really, like an Apollo. A Hades. That would be a good way to describe him.

Devastating beauty. Look but don’t touch. Admire but don’t approach. Marble skin and sharp features, deep green eyes and raspberry pink lips. Tempting, like an apple in the garden of Eden. Y/N had taken a bite. Perhaps it would condemn her to a life in hell, but with Harry at her side? She wasn’t sure she could complain.

Warm skin heated her fingertips as she watched his face. No harsh scowl, no angry frown lines, gentle face with some creases still evident from how long he kept those positions. They only added to his appeal.

If she didn’t know any better, she would say he was innocent. An innocent soul just searching for sleep, counting sheep in his head. Even knowing better… she sort of did. Getting to see the sides of the man they called Reaper, she had been able to peek behind the forbidden curtains into the soft underbelly of the beast, the tenderness he reserved only for her. She was honored that he would roll over and show her, give her the perspective no one else could ever see.

“Sweet boy,” She cooed in a voice so quiet only his subconscious could hear it. Her heart couldn’t take it, leaning in to place a loving kiss to his forehead before deciding to leave him be. Besides, there were only a few more hours left of the flight and she wanted to catch some more sleep of her own despite really wanting to cuddle up on top of him.

——————

“Attention passengers, we are now beginning our decent into London Heathrow. The local time is 1 in the afternoon, expect some overcast skies with a temperature of 12 degrees. Please fasten your seatbelts and return your seats to an upright position. Please be aware all lavatories are now closed. Thank you for flying with us.”

Harry rubbed the sleep from his eyes with a yawn, looking over at the angel laying soundly asleep beside him. He knew he’d have to wake her up so she could put her seat up, but he waited till the very last minute to do so.

“Bun,” He whispered quietly, letting his warm hand cup her cheek. “We are here, gotta sit up for me.” Harry’s voice was thick with sleep, getting used to it again now that he was well rested. He felt great, would feel even better after one big stretch.

“No.” She mumbled, though her actions contradicted her as she rubbed her eyes with her knuckles. Her lips were swollen from sleep, hazy and warm as he placed his cooler hands over her forehead.

“Yes. We’re in London.” He laughed, watching her eyes peel open and peep up at him as she tried to wake herself up. “Know you want to try out delicious local delicacies so… got to get chipper. Besides…” he leaned over the divider, his face leaning closer and pressing his lips to her cheek. “We’re on a pretend honeymoon, yeah? We can fake it nice. But we don’t have to fake all the parts.” Flirting with her definitely woke a part of her up- a part that was always reading to go for him.

“Hey.” She whined, holding his wrist. “Don’t tease me when you can’t do anything.” Her pout was soft, giving him sad eyes. “It’s gonna take like… a million hours to get to our hotel and you said no to the Mile High club. So… don’t be mean.”

Harry couldn’t help but laugh at her whining, he wondered how she could be so cute. He swore that every day it became harder and harder to say no to her. It was already difficult to start off with.

“I promise I’ll be able to make it up to you more than once on this trip if you let me, Darling.” He said as a matter of factly, bringing her hand up to place a kiss to the back of it. “Now come on, put your seat up and buckle up again.”

He wasn’t worried about the airport in the slightest. He’d been there a million times and every time he was able to get through customs without much of a trace. He knew he’d be able to keep her safe here, this was his turf. They could finally have a break from their worries.

“Once we get to the hotel, we need to eat something. If you wanna lay low, we can just do room service.” Harry was already thinking about laying down in a proper bed again.

“Kay.” She was properly sleepy, leaning against the divider and making a slight grabby hand for his again. Bunny, when sleepy, was very clingy and soft. She tried her best to not be a lot of the time because she didn’t want to smother Harry, but in this instance? She felt the overwhelming need to. They were finally somewhere safe. Maybe they could pretend to just be normal for once.

His heart clenched in his chest at the action. It wasn’t overly baby, but it cute and soft and she craved his touch so he gave it back to her, as long as she was seated.

He held her hand over the ledge as they landed, watching her sleepy figure stand up as he took their carry on’s from the overhead bins. Bunny’s backpack was lugged on his back while he placed the duffle on top of the rolling case, her hand taken in the other.

“It’s kinda hot when you do that stuff.” She admitted as they started to get off the plane. “When you just… kind of grab stuff for me and be a little domestic.”

Harry looked at her with a surprised gaze, brows raised as if to ask if she she meant it. Or why she said it. “What? It’s true.” She shrugged, hugging his free arm to his front. “The whole protector provider. I love when you take care of me.”

He felt a wave of smugness wash over him at her words, smirking to himself as he squeezed her hand.

“Now you quit teasing,” He moved down to whisper in her ear, “can’t do anything yet.” Harry echoed her words from earlier as they walked through the airport through customs. It already felt different, the two of them lost in a sea of people from all over the world. The anonymity was making Harry feel invincible which was a dangerous feeling for him to have. The hotel. That’s where they needed to be.

Bunny stayed close to Harry as the two of them proceeded through the electronic gates, heading off to the arrival pick up to find their designated driver. It felt so different, but oddly relaxing to be doing something other than staying in bed.

Harry scanned the whiteboards and papers looking for the name Davidson until he came across a face he hadn’t seen in years.

“You’re actually mad, you know that?” Harry couldn’t help his accent from slipping out, a wide grin on his face as he went to wrap his arms around his dear friend. TJ had grown up with Harry, the two got into all sorts of business together.

“What do you mean, bro?” The tall man patted Harry’s back with a broad smile. “My boys back in town with his misses, couldn’t miss that—” It was then that his eyes landed on Bunny.

“Bro,” TJ pulled back from Harry and reached out a hand for Bunny to take. “Pleasure to meet ya darling,” He spun her around cheering as she played along and gave him a twirl. “She’s leng, bro you’ve done incredibly well.”

“I’m TJ by the way,” The man was charming as ever. He was likely the only man Harry would ever trust around Bunny like this. Harry’s relationship with TJ felt like it stood frozen in time. The one true friend he had besides Sterling. This man was like blood. Of course he’d be the one escorting them.

It was surprising for Bunny not to see Harry snarling at the sight of a man touching her, but it seemed this was someone extremely important. Though Harry couldn’t be a hundred percent honest with him just yet for their own safety, he quickly informed the group they should get a move on before they spoke any further.

In an untapped car. Safe.

Bunny was watching as they spoke, keeping quietly to herself as Harry had his arm thrown over her shoulder in the backseat. He wasn’t going to abandon her for the front seat and TJ knew that, a bit surprised by the eagerness the man had to get back to her.

Harry was pretty much a lone wolf for as long as he’d known him. Seeing him all glittery eyed and soft for a woman was by far the last thing he ever expected. The same man who used to laugh at the idea of bringing a girl anywhere but a hotel or the bathrooms, was here protecting a girl who had snugly tucked herself under his arm as she played with his necklace.

“Can’t believe you’ve finally got a bird. I never thought I’d see the day.” He muttered, eyes going to Bunny. “You’re magic, Darlin’. Tamed the untamable. I’m happy someone finally got him though. You keep him in line?”

“Absolutely.” Bunny laughed, knowing that to a degree it was true. She just didn’t know how true it was under the surface.

“Good. This one’s a bit cranky as you know, but I know him to be a softy when he wants to be.” TJ loved to tease Harry. There was not much the man could hide from him considering he’d seen him at his lowest many times. Never in his life had he seen him actually commit to a woman. To show her the gentleness that came with his true platonic and now romantic love.

“Now, I don’t know much about why you’re here. I was told not to ask so I’ll respect the wishes. I do know you’re keeping it on the down low so don’t worry, I won’t tell anyone you’re here.” TJ continued, glancing at the two of them through rear view mirror. He couldn’t stop smiling.

“How’d you two meet then?” TJ missed his friend terribly but knew this was the life they both lead. They couldn’t stay in contact all the time without getting found out, so it made every moment together precious.

Bunny looked up at him, expecting to hear it from his perspective. Wanted to hear how he was going to explain it to his friend. How honest he’d be with her right beside him.

“She’s uh… she’s Sterling’s sister.” He said quietly. He knew that was somewhat scandalous, considering it was a very normal and expected thing to stay far, far away from your mate’s sister. Harry never was good with rules.

“No Fuckin’ way.” TJ muttered. “Does he know?” His eyes widened, looking in the mirror with shock on his face. He couldn’t imagine Sterling being okay with this.

“No.” Harry clenched his jaw. “He went off the grid when his father passed and his girl left him. I’m sure he’ll turn up again soon but…. He left me in charge.”

“So you shag his little sister?” TJ barked out a laugh. “That isn’t what he meant by take care of her.”

“Watch it.” Harry’s warning was lighthearted because he knew TJ. He wasn’t a dickhead who was rude to women. He was taking the piss, but it was aimed solely at Harry. “S’not just… it’s not hooking up and shit. It’s fine.” He felt a bit uncomfortable saying that out loud for the first time. He hadn’t even said it was more than that to Bunny yet. But it was the truth.

Bunny was half paying attention when she heard the words vibrate through his chest. They took her by surprise, not from the idea but from the fact he had dared to speak his thoughts about her out loud. He was right, it wasn’t just hooking up, he felt it all too.

“Woah, man…” TJ shook his head in disbelief, “That changes a lot.” He was still smiling to himself. He had never met Sterling but had spoken in the phone to him many times. He didn’t seem like the type of man to be irrational, but he knows how protective he was of Bunny.

“I’ve only see the two of you for a few hours and I already see you lot got chemistry.” He really hadn’t seen the man so relaxed in his life. If he didn’t know that they were here essentially in hiding, he’d think he really was just bringing his girl over to his stomping grounds.

“Brace yourself, mate. A Brother’s wrath is something else.”

“Trust me, I know.” He murmured.

Sterling was indeed going to beat his ass. He was going to be bruised and he was going to let him hit him because he understood. In a fight, Harry would win every time, but Sterling would die trying so he would let him get a hit in. It would be worth it. It would be worth every single black eye and sleepless night. She was.

—-

“So are we going to hit the pubs? Drinks on you, since you can afford a swanky fucking nest.” The man punched Harry’s shoulder before he helped them load their bags onto the luggage trolley. The hotel was posh, something Harry wouldn’t have chosen for himself- but it was definitely what Bunny deserved. Thank god Wiz was aware of that sort of thing.

“Sure, mate. Later though. I’ll text you myself but I think we’re just going to relax tonight. Jet lag is a bitch.”

“It’s calm, you’ve been traveling for ages. You stay safe yeah? You know where to find me if you need.” TJ shut the boot of his car and went to give the pair some parting hugs before heading off.

It felt so surreal for Bunny to meet a friend of Harry’s who wasn’t her brother. It’s this version of him that she fell in love with, he was still there. Always had been with her. Viper was right to choose to bring them here, Harry had never felt more at home.

The two walked through the revolving doors with their trolleys being wheeled behind them. Only the best service for one of the most luxurious of hotels in London.

“Davidson, Ryder.” Harry gave the man at the front desk the name when asked. It was funny to hear him say it, it sounded so unnatural but the man was buying it.

“Ah wonderful, the honeymoon suite. The lift is just on the right. Here are your key cards and a folder of all the things you may need.“ The man looked at the two delighted. It was an expensive package they were on, he wanted to make the best impression.

“Honeymoon?” Bunny chirped, looking up at him with wide eyes. “Ooooh. You spoil me.” It was fun to her, playing this role. Her ‘husband’ splurging to get the honeymoon suite and an expensive package. It was easy to play pretend with him.

“Course, Darling.” He turned to kiss the side of her head before taking the key cards and folded from the man, giving him a slight nod.

“Charles here will bring your luggage up with you so you stay hands free. We hope you enjoy your stay. If you need anything at all, just call to the front and ask for me. My name is Daniel.”

“Ace. Thank you.” Harry turned and headed towards the lift with Bunny’s hand in his own. The marble floor was shiny as hell. Not a scuff in sight. This was fancier than anything he had ever stayed in before, and he couldn’t help but feel happy that he was staying with Bunny for it.

Just because he had money didn’t mean he really spent it. Being without for so long meant he was a bit of a paranoid spender. He saved most of it, splurged sometimes on his bike and car, sometimes a subscription to an app here and there. But before Bunny, he didn’t have anyone to spoil. Now? He wasn’t going to hesitate.

Taking the lift up to their floor, Bunny stayed quiet. She had never been a place this lavish, she swore she saw her reflection in the floor. Even as they walked toward the end of their hallway, she was surprised at the grandiose doors and decor. She’d never think to book a place like this, but was thankful Wiz had considered their taste.

The room itself was rather dark in style, sultry if you will. Navy tiles covered the entirety of the open plan bathroom, a pair of sinks and mirrors highlighting the fact it was for a couple. She had to say, the mirrors facing the shower was a nice touch.

“Oh wow…” Bunny spoke under her breath, allowing her hand to swipe over then soft bedding. The bed was bigger than Harry’s, she didn’t understand the need for so many pillows but the gesture was appreciated. Her eyes were more focused on the terrace.

“Harry!” She gasped, immediately going to open the door towards it so she could get a better view of the city. “That’s Big Ben oh my god!” This was so cool.

“It is.” He smiled at her excitement. Harry thanked the staff member for bringing their luggage cart up, tipping him and locking the deadbolt before wheeling it into the foyer of the room.

She was quiet as she looked outside, the balcony door open as he placed his phone down on the dresser before approaching her from behind. Her hands gripped the iron of the railing, hair blowing in the wind as she looked at the view the room had left them. The air was nippy, making him shiver slightly as he walked out and placed his hand on her warm hip.

“It’s good?” He asked, leaning forward to place his face against her neck. His cold nose made her jump slightly, but she smiled to herself as he placed a chaste kiss to the cooking skin. His touchiness never seemed to get old.

“It’s perfect.” She replied, placing her hand over his. “It’s so luxurious. I’ve never stayed somewhere so fancy before. And the ‘honeymoon’ suite, no less. Do you think they’ve got lube?”

Harry barked out a laugh, the sweet moment turning comical as he pulled from his warm hiding place in her neck to gently nudge her around. “That’s your question? Little shit.” He snickered. “I doubt it. But we can get some. Why? Y’want to get kinky?”

The thought turned her gaze hot, eyes wide and full of lust. It was definitely something she’d like to explore with him. He must have some hidden side to him that he’d been holding back, she wanted to see it all.

“Maybe.” Bunny settled on that as an answer, “Later of course. Don’t want to get too worked up about it. We need sleep.” Her voice grew softer as she leaned into him feeling how chilly he’d gotten from standing out here.

“We’ll finish that conversation later.” Harry rasped lowly in her hear, hand traveling to caress the swell of her ass. He just wanted to hold her, touch her. Kiss her. She was right, the two of them needed some proper rest and food after their journey.

“Inside, yeah?” He wasn’t thinking much as he mindlessly started walking them back into the room and towards the bed. Wordlessly, he laid her down on the bed and got on his knees to tug her shoes off. Then socks.

“Can I?” He asked, soft as he wanted to make sure it was okay to be this vulnerable with her. Harry wasn’t one to do this, but he just wanted her to relax. To lay there while he got her ready for bed.

Wordlessly, she nodded. Her eyes rounded, wide as she watched his fingers ever so gently pull the socks off of her feet. He was delicate with the actions, his calloused fingers brushing the smooth skin of her ankles as he tossed the socks to the ground.

“Tired?” His voice was mirroring the sentiment, the nap on the nowhere near enough sleep for the lack of it he had been living with the last few days.

“Yeah.” She whispered. “Sleepy. Want to lay with you.” Her confession filled his chest with warmth. This was the sort of tenderness that he had been wanting more of. Secretly pining for underneath his hard shell, things Bunny just knew, somehow, to say.

“Alright. We’ll do that, my darling.” Fondness was evident in his eyes as he squeezed her foot. “But we need to get changed. Y’want one of those silk things?” She was sitting on top of the comforter but he wasn’t going to let her in the sheets with airport and plane clothes. No way.

“No. Want one of your shirts. One of the soft ones, please.”

Harry knew just the ones she was talking about. They were all so old and worn, his old band tee shirts. They had holes and faded logos but there was too many memories for him to let go of in them. It felt like a sign to him that Bunny had also grown so fond of them, as if she knew how special they were.

“Can you sit up for me for a second?” Harry approached the bed once again watching as she lazily sat herself up and watched him with sleepy eyes. “Just a second,” Harry cooed as he reached to unhook her bra and took the T-shirt off with it.

“There we go.” He hummed, pressing a kiss to her cheek as the hem of his Rolling Stones shirt settled at her thighs. “Go on, under the covers you go. I’ll be back in a minute.”

She watched his retreating back towards the bathroom, her heart beating hard in her chest. Sure, Harry had been tender with her before but this… this was much different.

It was a new. The level of softness and care made her melt back into the bed, a new side to the man exposing itself to her now that they were in a new city. Perhaps it was the jet lag, but she sure as hell hoped not. She wouldn’t mind getting this sort of delicate touch, the warm words and kindness to him, the way he looked at her like he adored her. She didn’t want that to stop.

“H?” She called. He had been gone for a few minutes, her bare legs moving back and forth in the softness of the sheets as she not so patiently waited for him to return. “What are you doing? It’s cold.”

“I had to find these.” Harry spoke as he approached her with what seemed to be a bottle with micellar water and cotton pads. “Never seen you go to sleep without doing this.” He said, adjusting her so head was resting in his lap.

He’d already stripped himself down to a pair of black boxers, hair a mess. He just wanted her to feel relaxed and happy that she took care of it the night before when she woke up. Never in his life did he think he’d be so tender with her, but it just felt natural.

Adding a bit of the makeup remover to the cotton round, Harry found himself repeating the actions he’d seen her do so many times. He made an effort to use the lightest pressure he could, Harry hoped he was doing a good job.

Bunny was happy to have her eyes closed because she swore they could have teared up. No one had ever done something like this for her, something so simple but so intimate. Her heart was swelling with love for him, how could she not sleep peacefully with someone like him by her side?

The fingertips gently held her chin as the cool pad ever so delicately wiped away the makeup on her eyes. She had gone light on the makeup today considering it was a travel day, but she had forgotten completely about it in her tired state.

Harry remembering this made her fall deeper. Part of her wanted to blurt it out. To pounce on him and cover him with kisses for being so fucking sweet. He was being so tender with her, swiping gently over her eyes to get the mascara from her lashes.

“Remember you said not to drag it. Cause it’ll harm your skin.” One of the times Harry had watched her do it, she had told him that she preferred this to makeup wipes because she didn’t want to damage her skin. He disposed of the used round, going to get another and soaking it slightly too fast with the water. A bit dropped on to her chest and he sighed, shaking his head.

“M’sorry, darling. Didn’t mean to do that. Let me just finish this eye.”

Her fingers came up to run over his warm forearm, his fingers holding her chin still in its pinch. Keeping her still while he concentrated on getting the makeup from her eyes and brows, he tilted her head when he saw fit.

“You’re unreal. You know that?” Bunny whispered, feeling his hand pull away but grabbing it back. Both hands lightly gripped it and flattened his palm out, pressing a soft kiss right to the middle of it as she opened her eyes, taking him in. He was exhausted, but fucking stunning. Hair in his face and stubble growing in, she couldn’t get enough of him and his imperfections. Somehow, they made him even more attractive. The scar over his eyebrow. All of it.

One hand released his palm to grab the back of his neck, guiding him down for a needy kiss. It wasn’t filled with the promise of sex, bur rather showing her appreciation. Her affection and honestly, her love for him. A little whimper left her mouth as he pulled away, his smile not enough of a reward when his lips were better on her mouth. “Why? Come back.”

“Let me put this away first, hmm?” Harry wasn’t sure how he’d grown so focused, but his protector was fully activated. He felt a lot safer here in London, even safer in this hotel. Harry could finally do what he always wanted to do, give her his full attention.

Pecking her lips a few more times, he stood up to place the things on the counter. Bunny let out a sigh, rested her head against the pillow feeling impatient. As Harry went to check all the doors were closed and locked, Bunny took a few deep breaths and melted into the mattress. This was so much better than an airplane seat.

“I’m back now, baby.” Harry mumbled as he turned off the lights, climbing into his side of the bed. He was thankful for the bit of light shining through the window, he wanted just enough light to see her in this state.

“Good,” Bunny sighed against him as he pulled her body closer. “All I wanted to do on the plane was cuddle but there was that stupid barrier.” She could finally feel herself relaxing now that they were back in their comfort zone.

“I know.” He settled in next to her, arm tucking her up against his body while he brushed her hair from her face. He was still exhausted, still ready to fall asleep, but it was hard to waste any moment with her. “But we’ve got all the time here to cuddle so… it’s okay.” They both know Harry would have said fuck it and brought her into his lap either way but he didn’t want to risk trouble on the flight.

There was a comfortable silence between them as Harry relaxed further into the bed, her fingers ringing his necklace and twirling it around her finger, the sounds of the city leaking slightly into the room.

Bunny was thinking. She wanted to ask something and she wasn’t sure if it was weird or boundary pushing but now that she had gotten a little taste of him outside of Vegas, how his stress level had relaxed and he had been so attentive… she couldn’t help but be a bit selfish.

“Do you think…” Her words were quiet as she laid her head on his bicep, avoiding his eyes for the time being. “Do you think while we’re in London we can pretend?”

The words sat in the air for a moment, Harry shifting slightly to try and look at her in the darkness but her gaze was kept away from him. She was nervous, and he hated that. He didn’t want her to be nervous asking him about anything. “How do you mean?” He kept his voice light, fingers going back to stroke over her hair.

“Like… when we’re here, can we pretend the stuff at home isn’t happening? I’m not being stalked, you aren’t on alert… we can just be a normal couple who’s on a trip to London. You’re just my husband who’s showing me around where he grew up and we don’t have to dread going home.”

He could hear her choking up a bit, his heart cracking a bit in his chest at the fact that they had to pretend at all. He wished it was real, that they didn’t have to worry, that she didn’t harbor all this anxiety and fear in her chest and he didn’t have to panic whenever he wasn’t with her. He wasn’t going to say no to this. A welcome break.

“Hey…” He cooed, shifting to lift her face to meet his. “Hey, my darling. Of course we can.” Her teary eyes broke his heart again, making him push the anger for her stalker down because it wasn’t the time to deal with it. She needed him and his comfort. “We can do whatever you want. Anything. I’m more than happy to do that with you.”

He tried to also push down the excitement he felt from her calling him her boyfriend. That was a title they hadn’t discussed, he had wanted to ask properly, but the fact she thought of him as that already soothed a huge part of him. He didn’t deserve her, but she had somehow decided she wanted him regardless.

———————

“This isn’t what I remember this place to be.” Harry sighed, wishing that London wasn’t so ever changing. Camden Market had been a place Harry went all the time as a kid, it was touristy so no one really noticed him, the vendors gave him free food, and lost importantly? It had all the necessities.

“There are more markets you’d like more but I think it’s a good place to start.” Everyone came here when they went to visit London. Harry could see its appeal, so many musicians walked these streets, it was home to the alternative scene. “Me and TJ used to come here and hang outback, smoking spliffs and reading some porn magazines. Looks much nicer now.”

The girl frowned.

“You were a literal baby.” Her pout was sad. Harry had been failed by the adults in his life time and time again. So young to be on his own, to be smoking, to be looking at explicit material. It made her angry that his mother had been so up her own ass she didn’t even notice it.

“I know. I had some shit times, but I made it work.” He squeezed her hand. “Don’t look so sad. This is a better part of my memories.”

Bunny scoffed. “Because you saw tits.” She rolled her eyes, but let it go. He was fond of hers now, so. It made sense. But still, she would worry about that later.

“I know you said you wanted to go and shop, so whatever you want. I’ll buy for you today.” He hadn’t had an excuse to spoil her properly before and now he did. While it wasn’t stupidly expensive here, it would make him feel good to be able to buy her some things. Make him feel useful.  There were plenty of stalls for her to get those cute little dresses or the jewelry with gems on them that she liked. He had one other place in mind for last.

“Oh? Am I getting a sugar daddy?” She blinked up at him, batting her lashes. Harry had always paid for their meals and things of that sort but they’d never gone shopping like this besides for the lingerie. That was the other time he got to spoil her.

“You’ve had a Daddy for a while. We’re jus’ adding the sugar on top of it. I will be expecting quite a bit later.” He reached up to squeeze her cheeks, making her lips puff out like a fish. “So be a good little girl and let me buy you some pretty things.”

The stalls were pretty overwhelming. There really was so much to choose from and so many things she thought were cool but didn’t need. However, the hidden vintage shops always caught her eye. There were so many tshirts that were soft like Harry’s, cool sweaters and jeans that were trendy and unique.

“These look cool.” Bunny pulled some cute baby tees off the rack, a striped red and black sweater she thought would go well with all the denim she had brought on their trip. “I’ve never had jeans like these, but I think they’d look cute…” She was sort of speaking out loud. Low rise was something she usually wanted to stay away from, but the way these were cut she thought they’d hug her body well. Make her look sexy.

It seemed Harry thought so as well, his hands immediately finding the softness of her tummy. “You’re picking them to drive me mad I bet. That’s alright, you’ll deal with the consequences later.” Harry was positive she wouldn’t mind, he just couldn’t be able to keep his hands off of her.

Bunny was also on the look out for some things for him, but it seemed that she was looking for something specific. She wanted to get him something he would genuinely get excited over.

His hands had hardly left her and it was a bit distracting, if she was being honest. Distracting in a good way. She shivered slightly as he tucked his hands under her shirt while she looked through a rack, very aware of how they looked with him attached to her like a second skin.

“We are really being ‘that couple’, aren’t we?” She laughed, turning slightly to look at him. Harry’s face showed he didn’t care in the slightest. He hadn’t been able to show this sort of soft affection with her beforehand. Why would he waste the opportunity now?

“I simply don’t give a fuck what any of the people here think.” He replied, fingers tucking slightly under the waistband of her jeans. “Gonna spend a shit ton at this store so, the owner won’t give a fuck after we check out. Do you want me to back off?” He taunted, moving his hands for a mere second before she snatched them back.

“I didn’t say that.” She grumbled. “I was just saying, it’s interesting. You’re like a puppy. A cute, deadly puppy.” That was answered with a bite on her neck, making her yelp and pinch his wrist, scowling slightly at the nip.

“Yeah, well. Puppy has teeth. So watch it.” He muttered, kissing over the mark he had made with his teeth, smiling as she melted back into him. “You’ve got a pain kink anyways. Properly just turned you on.” He spoke against her ear.

“What do you know?” Bunny asked with a raised brown. They’d never had a conversation about what the two of them liked, but they’d both had some good guesses. Their sec had always played off their natural dynamics, but they were both curious about what else hid beneath the surface.

He was right about her pain kink, a few others he’d definitely picked up on from their many encounters. Bunny felt comfortable around him, enough to let these sides of her shine through even when she thought they were hidden well.

“You having fun?” Bunny teased, noticing his hands were starting to feel restless against her body. He only ever got this way when he was needy, but she was thinking their location had something to do with the matter. They were both feeling free and relaxed in a new different country, not to mention it had been a little bit since they’ve been properly intimate. At least in a way that felt fully satisfying.

“I know plenty. I’m having lots of fun.” He said simply, knuckling over the waistband of her jeans. “I’m just thinking we have one more stop before we go back to the hotel and m’excited to show it to you.”

That peaked her interest. Another place? A place that he seemed rather excited about? Harry had been needy all day but it had progressed the later it got, his impatience shining through.

“Oh, really? Another place?” She turned in his grip to look at him properly, Harry’s little pout at the movement of positions making her grin. He was cute. He looked a bit scary to some, but to her he was a mushy, soft, warm ball of fluff. With some spikes attached, sometime.

“Yeah. Let’s check out here if you’re done. I think you’re gonna love it.” He pressed his lips against her slightly sticky ones, licking up her gloss. “S’perfect for us. Especially if we’re gonna be that couple… makes sense we would go there. So hurry it up.” His hand came down on her ass for a quick swat, making her squeak.

Bunny was quick to make her way to the check out, having selected only a few pieces as she wanted to make sure she bought things she truly couldn’t say no to. Her interest had been spiked and to think Harry was excited to go in a shop meant it was definitely worth exploring.

Being in London with Harry was already different than Vegas had ever been. Here, people didn’t stare so much they seemed to be unbothered by the two of them. There was a couple just like them around all the time. It didn’t make them unique, but it felt that way to her. Here in London, Harry seemed to shine, his charm oozed out of him and guided everyone to follow his word. It was different but welcomed.

Of course she hadn’t been able to go out much since this all started so it felt that much more exciting to be shopping at a market, but she was growing her own relationship with this city. The feeling it gave her was like no other.

“Should we go to that shop? You lead the way.” Bunny leaned up to press a kiss to his cheek. She was very excited.

Harry led them back. It was all the way in the back, a large “adult’s only” sign hanging over it as the blacked out windows had clued them into what it was.

“Remember you asked so sweetly if they provided lube for us. They didn’t… but I think we should get som here.” He mumbled, kissing the side of her head as he took their tangled fingers and brought her inside.

A sex shop. Bunny looked around with wide eyes as she took in the pure amount of sex toys, outfits, bits and bobs all over the place. She wasn’t shocked, really, but she hadn’t ever been in one before. She preferred ordering online.

A warmth filled her face as she suddenly felt a bit shy, holding on to Harry’s arm as her wide eyes peeped at all of the things he seemed so comfortable around. “What… What did you want to get? Just the lube?” She asked quietly, as if afraid to speak too loudly.

“Was hoping to get a few things to try with you. Is that okay with you, Angel?” He asked. “We don’t have to get anything if you don’t want to but… you know…” He shrugged. “Figured it’s a great shop for an eager little slut.”

Bunny swallowed thickly and decided there was not much else she could do in this shop besides look around and see what peaked her interest. She was a fully grown adult, there was nothing to be shy about especially with someone like Harry here with her.

The thick dildos grabbed her interest, wondering how I’m earth they managed to get them inside. The anal beads as well, they looked more like balls than beads. Of course, all for one’s pleasure. From her own discoveries, Bunny found she was quite the fan of butt stuff. She owned a few plugs and some beads, but she knew it wouldn’t compare to the real thing.

Harry couldn’t help but notice her eyes stuck looking over the plugs on the wall, a smirk growing on his face as he leaned down to whisper in her ear once again.

“See something you like? Can always try any of this with me you know? If I’d known I would have prepared some.” Harry had an extensive collection of toys. Most of them were never used, he preferred girls to have their own for their play. The collection he had were being saved specifically for someone special, if he found them.

Harry felt like he had.

“Maybe?” She turned to him, meeting his gaze. “I’ve... experimented by myself. I think I’d like to play around with anal, maybe. It could be fun.” She admitted, making Harry’s brows raise.

He hadn’t expected her to just come out and say it, but god, was he happy she did. He would be more than willing to teach her. Harry was, for all intents and purposes,  a very sexually well rounded slut. He had done a bit of everything, orgies and anal and anything under the sun. If she was to have a teacher, he would be a good one.

“Yeah? I think that would be lovely.” He moved towards them, bringing her along. “We do need to have a proper chat about it. Limits and such. Wants and fantasies. I think it would be good for us.” The thought aroused him, though. His sweet little bunny. Becoming even more depraved and dirty just for him. “What have you played with yourself, hm? Your fingers? Any toys?” He was beyond intrigued. The main conversation would wait until they were at the hotel, but this was something he wanted to know now.

“I have two of these,” Bunny pointed out the two different plugs she owned, one was metal and the other was glass. “I remember reading online that the silicone ones could harbor bacteria and the others were easier to clean… but the silicone ones are so soft. The beads I have are silicone. I don’t use them as often.”

It was strange talking about it in public, but it was a sex store. Everyone was in there for a reason. It was then that she looked over at the vibrators and felt her eyes widen, “And this one!! This um… this feels really good. I always cum with this.” It was an average sized pink vibrating dildo, it seemed the vibration was the thing that helped her out the most.

“That’s pretty much it, if it’s not that it’s usually my fingers but… I get tired and don’t want to use them sometimes. Imagine it being someone else.” That someone else usually being Harry.

He looked at her with dark eyes as she went over the list, his cock thickening with interest. Bunny, his sweet little Bunny, plugged herself up. She fucked herself with vibrators and used beads on herself. She was filthy, and she was all his.

“Imagine someone else, hm?” He smirked. “And who were you imagining inside of your ass?” Fingers tilted her chin up again, knocking his knuckles against the underside of it to get her eyes.

“You know…” She mumbled. “Obviously I imagined you. I’ve had a crush on you for literal years.” Her face was a bit embarrassed but she could see it soothed a territorial part of his ego.

“Obviously…” He drawled. “Good to know. Think we should get one of each. Maybe a set of plugs for you. D’you think you’d wear them around for me later? Keep yourself stuffed and stretched when we go out to dinner sometime so I can have it easier when we get back to the room?”

Bunny didn’t think of that.

She’d never considered wearing them outside of the house, never had a reason to really. It was surprising to her in a way that made her heart speed up, eyes dilated with lust. She’d happily let him take her in the ass, probably the only one she wanted inside.

“Yeah…” She breathed out, squeezing his arm a bit so he knew it was his turn to pick them out. He was far more knowledgeable, she was simply there for the experience. “We can do that.”

It had her wondering about what other things he’d imagined doing to her, with her. The handcuffs were certainly something that got his attention.

“And these?” He asked, gently holding up the cuffs with his free finger. “Want to get the softer ones for you, don’t think the ones I have are good for you.”

It was then that Bunny raised a brow.

“Who said I wouldn’t like the ones you have?”

Harry smirked back at her. The real metal ones that bit into skin, they were a bit rough but he wouldn’t tell her no. They’d have to work up to it.

“Because.” He dropped them into the basket, picking up her hand and bringing her wrists up. “As much as I love leaving marks on you, I don’t want you to hurt too badly. They cut you up. And you’re too precious.” He brought his mouth to the inside of her wrist, giving it three little kisses before lowering it back down.

She could feel it in her cunt. Every little smirk, every glance at her, every time his jaw clenched from the chewing of his gum. She was hot and wet and she wanted him to fuck her, soon. He had been extremely gentle with her lately which was always appreciated, but she wanted to know more.

“You’ll really teach me stuff, won’t you?” She asked quietly, picking up a ball gag and showing it to him. “I want you to teach me all the things you like. You’ve got more experience than me but I want to be good for you.”

Harry placed a hand over her hip, gently rubbing and squeezing the clothed skin to sooth her just enough. She had an expectant look on her face, one he had grown very familiar with.

“I said anything, didn’t I?” He hummed, taking in her features. “I’ll teach you everything you wanna know baby. Just want to make sure I know your limits, wouldn’t want to over step.”

Some of Harry’s kinks were a bit extreme, at times even for him. There were certain things he could only do with certain people and it was mostly because the after effects were shocking for those who weren’t yet desensitized. Lucky for Bunny, Harry had seen and been with all types of bodies and genders. There wasn’t much he hadn’t seen, but one thing is for certain. He got high on Bunny’s responses. She was the one who got him better than anyone else.

“Anything else in here grabbing your interest? We could always come back…” Harry was eager to get back to the hotel with this new information. He hadn’t expected to find out the things he had today.

“We can?” She chirped. “Well.. okay. If we can come back I think I’m good with these. We can just grab some lube and go, right?”

Her looking at him for approval also got him hard, nodding at her words and picking up the basket again to bring to the front. Harry was going to spend long, long hours teaching her exactly what he liked and let her experiment with what she did. “Right. I need to get you back.”

Or he may pull her into an alley to have his way with her. That was something he planned on doing, sure- but not till they had their talk.

#jarofstyles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles fanfic #harry styles smut #harry writing #harry styles imagine #harry drabble #harry styles blurb #harry styles writing #reaper #reaperry #bikerry #biker Harry #biker Harry styles #mc Harry styles #motorcycle club!harry #harry fluff #Harry smut #harry smut blurbs #harry angst #Harry styles angst #harry styles fluff #harry styles fic rec #harry styles fanfictions #harry styles fanfics

[misty-zzz]

Chapter 9

Finally writing block had let me go, off to its next victim 🤷

It’s a tad bit of a shorter chapter, but I think it’s a nice one :)

The Wubbox offered its gifts. Shiney clear stones, filled with potential. Dragong steals them right as he lays eyes on the valuables. He shut his eyes, but his concentration was halted by Auglur. They motioned some towards Dragong, he immediately remembers what he’s supposed to do. Not for the gems. He places the three gems on the goopy ground, and clears his throat.

“Thank you… for these supplies…” his eyes scatter around, avoiding any sort of eye contact. Auglur pushes him foward. “And, uhm- these will be a great help for me, and… I am appreciative of it.” He smiles quite awkwardly. Auglur eyes hint in a faint smile. Can’t tell too much of emotion in a floating eyeball flower. Tootoo smiles back, “It’s our pleasure!” She says.

“Anyways, back to this, I’ve finally remembered what I had to do.” Dragong crushes the crystals under his weight. He continued until it was fine dust — but it was just what he needed. He gathers the pile of dust up, and spits right into his palm. This is what magic is like for the monsters. A tad bit strange, but what’s needed.

Fiddlement seemed a tad bit disgusting by the now ball of spit and fine dust. Dragong carefully shapes the mixture into a round fire emblem, somehow able to with his cymbal hands. “Magic for us is weird. I’m not sure how our ancestors found out about this.” Dragong finished the reshaping of the mixture. So he does as he remembers, and places it on top of his forehead.

The orange sludge seeps into his skin and scales, his eyes are shut, and there was a faint glow of red radiating from him. His eyes peel back open. His magic was back, at least for fire balls.

“Did it work?! Fiddlement eagerly tilted forward. Dragong moves over to an area with no one. He draws out the same symbol mid air.

The symbol makes a light carve in the air, quickly becoming a cloud of fire. It shoots out, blasting the wall of the workshop. Gunks of the wall goop fly in every direction. “I did it!” Dragong’s wings burst up. “Oh how I missed magic!” He grins with his sharp teeth.

There were a couple of more explosions from Dragong. Eventually they decided the time had to come. Dragong was going to leave the hole. He’ll miss the triple element ethereals, sadly they aren’t able to join along.

“Don’t tell them about us.” Auglur plead the four. “I don’t want us to be found out by the mythicals. Especially after all I’ve heard from Dragong.” She sighs. “I promise, only we will know.” Tootoo assured her.

“Maybe I’ll come back here every once in a while.” Dragong thought out loud.

They headed off to the outside. Finally Dragong will smell some fresh air. For someone who had been trapped in a cave for so long, he really was a bundle of energy. He bounces on the walls, exploding everything in his path. The only area Wubbox forced Dragong to stop was the areas with the cave paintings.

Along this area, Dragong had a moment to slow down. “Sorry about that, way earlier.” He starts apologizing for seemingly nothing. “For what?” Fiddlement questioned. “That thing with auglur, how she made me say thank you and that stuff.” Dragong grumbled. “We’ve been working on our manners, I guess.” He went on “We knew that eventually we would have to see other monsters eventually. And we didn’t want them to see us as rude or anything.”

“I don’t see anything wrong with that!” Tootoo exclaimed. “I’d rather have someone be kind than to be mean when I first meet them!”

“I guess I just kinda saw it as awkward.” Dragong drags along the dirt path.

With a few back rides on Dragong, and a whole lot of walking. They had done it. Now Dragong will reintroduce himself. A new era for him!

He takes his last breath of cave air, and his first in a while of ethereal air. But everything besides the air was ethereal. A group of monsters stood a couple of feet away.

“A little tweedle told me that someone was going inside that cave.” Laughed the small, stout, orange monster. “Is that-”

“The mythicals!” Dragong cuts off Tootoo. “Why in the name of galvana are you here?” Dragong snapped. He hated that Buzzinga. “For you, of course. Eventually you would wake up, we knew it wasn’t permanent.” The edges of his mouth curl. Something bad was about to happen.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Some silly notes::::

GUYSSSSS AAAAAHHAHAHAH

I’m SO excited to write the next chapter, FIGHTING AND ARGUING, LETSSS GOOOO!!!!

Also I kinda want to write a part 2 to fate of the stars, but then there’s another one shot in my mind too. Augahagah. I think I’ll write part 2 when all the adult celestials are released. Okay I think I’m going to go insane. 💃🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼💃🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼🕺🏼💃🏼💃🏼💃🏼💃🏼

#msm #my singing monsters #broken titan au #msm broken titan #msm au #au #fanfic #fanfiction

[neurosismancer]

So, let me put on my Internet Old Person hat and tell you kids about the the way we committed music piracy in the long long ago of 2001, and the fragility of those music collections in those days.

You might know Napster. You might know Limewire. But there was a music piracy tool in between those. A little remembered program called AudioGalaxy, and it worked a little like Napster and a little like BitTorrent. The exact details of how it worked are immaterial, but one thing it did was when you searched for an artist, the songs were sorted, in essence, by popularity (e.g. how many people had that specific song file shared.)

Now, I can’t understand why this was a thing, but there was a strange phenomenon in the early days of file sharing and music piracy where people would share songs with the wrong artist name or song title. Certain bands and artists got a lot of stuff attributed to them that they never recorded. “Weird” Al Yankovic may be the most infamous victim of this, with nearly every novelty song and song parody released attributed to him regardless of quality or subject matter.

The confluence of these two phenomena are how I discovered one of my favorite bands of all time.

So, in my late teens, I found a new favorite band. A quickly little one-hit wonder known as DEVO. Y’know, the band that dd “Whip It.” They had the funny red hats that looked like flowerpots. Those guys.

Anyway, I had become obsessed with this band to the point of autistic hyperfixation, and I wanted to hear everything they’d ever put out. At that point, they’d released nine studio albums, a couple live albums, and two collections of early demos, and I wanted them all. So I would find myself crawling in the bottom pages of the AudioGalaxy search results looking for those obscure tracks—b-sides, songs on soundtracks and compilations, the occasional bootleg, They’d pop up between songs that were obviously not by DEVO, and much like our poor friend Alfred Yankovic, any sort of vaguely quirky 80s song got assigned to DEVO.

That was how I found it. A song called, simply, “Detachable Penis.”

Now, I had never heard of such as song, but I knew on the face of it, it wasn’t a DEVO song.

But with a title like that, I knew I had to find out just what in the name of fuck a song called “Detachable Penis” sounded like.

It sounded, dear reader, like this:

(CWs: blurry images of a dildo, the word penis, spoken word poetry)

And I immediately went to Google, because this song somehow tickled an itch in my brain, and I had to go and find out the real band that recorded this song, because how the hell else was I going to get every song I could of theirs I could get my grubby little hands on. The band was called King Missile, and I was hooked.

I’d like to see any music discovery algorithm beat that.

I eventually acquired their entire major discography along with a few EPs and B-Sides. I eventually burned those to a CD, which I could listen to with my MP3 CD Player.

And I realize, upon writing that, for you youth “MP3 CD Player” is a noun phrase that needs explaining. See, while the iPod had been released at that point, and similar devices were also on the market, they were all prohibitively expensive. The economical way to listen to pirated music files was to burn them to CD, but some CD players had software that allows you to burn those song as as _data_. Suddenly, you could have a single CD with 700 megabytes of MP3 files—room for an artist’s entire discography, if not multiple artists.

Since I was download a whole lot of MP3s with my high speed DSL connection, I was taking up an awful lot of space on my hard drive that needed to be offloaded somehow. CD-Rs and an MP3 CD Player were the optimal solution. And it worked…

…until it didn’t.

In the summer of 2002, my parents took me on a vacation to Las Vegas and Los Angeles. It was in the latter city where someone got into our rental car and swiped my MP3 CD player and a binder of CDs—both pressed CDs I’d acquired and CD-Rs of illicitly acquired MP3s, along them a CD-R I’d burned containing the nearly complete King Missile discography.

Songs I had only on that one CD-R.

It took me a decade—ten fucking years—before I’d recovered all the music that was on that disc.

This is the sort of discovery and the sort of loss that kids will never experience again in this day of Spotify and the all-you-can-eat buffet of music on demand we have now.

#internet old person #music piracy #music discovery #AudioGalaxy #Napster #Limewire #2001 #2002 #back in the day #2000s nostalgia #long and rambling story #DEVO #king Missile #Youtube

[cant-get-no-worse]

I loved reading your post about Neymar leaving barca. Can you please write about Messi too. I'm also kinda new to the inside story's of football so would really like to know about it.

Making a culer ramble about LM10 leaving Barcelona

Anyways LET'S GO BOYS, buckle the seatbelts and set up the parachutes cause this one's messy (cue faint laughter) too.

Context : so Leo Messi was signed at 13 yo at FCB, and is therefore considered a La Masia (club's academy) product, such as the likes of Iniesta, Xavi (current coach), Piqué, Puyol, etc, and more recently Gavi, Fati, etc. He did his whole club career there, from 2000 (with the Junior team) till 2021; was widely seen as a one-club man who'd end his career there, at the club of his life. Despite this though, everything wasn't all unicorns and pink sparkles and his relationship with the club wavered several times, and hard.

There were first rumors about a departure in 2014, but the death of Tito Vilanova (Barca assistant/coach and close to Leo) changed that (common version is that Tito asked him to stay at the club, Leo obliged). A year later in 2015, very strong movements about him possibly moving to Chelsea after rumored failing relationship with then coach Luis Enrique. Everything kind of calmed down until Neymar's departure in 2017; Leo was one of several players who entered in a sort of cold war with the board for failing to find a proper replacement for Neymar. A bit of calm again, until in August 2020, small bombshell: Messi's side sent a burofax (the trolling on twitter was funny asf ngl) expressing his desire to part ways with the club. By then, under the presidency of Bartomeu, the club was a clear mess in and off the pitch and getting out of one of its worst seasons ever (2019 - 2020). Ensued a very public back and forth argument between Messi's side and the club (about which ex players and ex managers also expressed their opinions, somehow), at the end of which Messi eventually refused to take the matter to court (« I would never go to court against the club of my life » alright, let me indulge in that quote a bit, a girl needs some soothing).

So he started the 2020 - 2021 season to go til the end of his contract, which was to end on July 1st, 2021. Didn't deter him from openly speaking against the club, though, the guy was pissed off and made it known (criticizing the way Luis Suarez, FCB striker since 2014 and close friend of Leo, was shamefully let go from the club: « at this stage nothing surprises me any more [about the club] »). The season finished in May 2021, and by that time, despite very mediocre results, it's said he'd changed his mind and wanted to stay at the club, wanted to sign a contract extension. On July 1st, contract expired, he becomes a free agent (meaning any club can sign him) in the middle of the Copa America he's playing with Argentina.

Now, ensue one of the most messy couple of weeks ever. We don't really know what happened because several versions were given: it's all image/media manipulation on who fucked who, who's at fault, who tried, etc. Basically, it's Laporta v. Messi's side. I would direct you to this twitter thread that gives the player's version. Broken down simply, everything seemed to have been agreed for a renewal; Leo spend the 2021 Copa America (DALE CAMPEON) persuaded that it was just a matter of days/weeks until he'd sign the renewal. Until, very suddenly, on August 5th, Laporta called it all off and said the deal wouldn't go through; FCB wouldn't renew Messi.

Of the reasons that were invoked, the crucial point remains the obvious financial struggles the club was going through (had been for long time, it was kind of the tipping point). Messi's wages were declared too expensive and endangering for the club, despite Messi reportedly agreeing to a 50% or 75% - versions vary - wages cut (something no other player in the dressing room agreed to); Laporta said he was putting the club's safety above all else. So, by early August 2021, Messi was left with no club, his agent/father having rejected multiple times multiple offers (such as City's) in July, thinking a new deal was to be concluded shortly with FCB.

BOOM. Do you hear that? That's oil money, babe. Enter our dear trashcan of a club, PSG. PSG's sporting director, Leonardo, had left the door ajar for Jorge Messi, just in case: that's were Jorge went, for lack of other options, when Laporta called the FCB deal off at the ending month of the summer transfer window. There were strong links for Messi to go to PSG: the French locker room comprised several close Argentine friends & teammates with whom he'd just won the Copa America (Paredes, Di Maria) and another close friend in Neymar, who'd never stopped dreaming about playing with Leo again and was all too eager to make Leo come to PSG. These guys pushed for him to come to the club; it assured him some familiarity amidst what was a career & life earthquake - change of club, of league, of country. PSG immediately facilitated everything, and in a matter of days, the deal was concluded. (Upon which our very own Brazilian 222M transfer posted Instagram stories of him watching Neymar/Messi edits on Youtube to celebrate Leo's coming. I got no words. Istg we should disect the man's brains.)

The infamous press conf given by Leo was reportedly rushed by Laporta's side, who wanted to get accross Laporta's version of what had happened as quickly and controlled as possible.

Messi's departure broke several links: commercially wise, important sponsors withdrew from the club and from La Liga. Personally wise, his friendship with Piqué (it's said Piqué, friend dating all the way back to the La Masia days, was the one who told Laporta getting Messi off would help the club's finances), which Messi took as a treason (they still don't talk to this day). Messi's relationship with Laporta took a hit too, I mean, like, was completely broken as well. That's partly why until a few months ago it seemed impossible for him to come back, with a relationship to a club's president as severed as theirs was/is. The overnight U turn of Laporta deprived Messi from having options (City, were his ex manager Pep Guardiola is) and forced him to chose under the pressure of time, the fact that if Laporta had decided to make the older players in the locker room take a wage cut as well, with the amount of revenue Messi generates for the club, he could have stayed, the cold media war over which version was the truth, the press conference, etc.

It's messy as fuck. But unlike Neymar's departure, it's not coming from the player, but rather a player evicted from the club (with reason or not; I'm not judging, just stating), so it's less of asking from where/why the decision comes from, and more why/was it necessary to.

In conclusion :

That's it for the Messi saga (shiver - for now..). Stay tuned etc. Hope I cleared a bit up! ❤️

#anon ask #fc barcelona #messi #can you tell i love doing those

[foralleternityidiot]

Oh for the newbies here can you explain to us what Our Sky 2 is, exactly? I can’t figure it out based on the trailer and my internet sleuthing but I feel super excited about Akk/Ayan possibilities? Is it like a small special episode?

BL mentor, I need your help!

So, Our Skyy is a BL anthology series from 2018. Each episode focuses on a BL couple from a previous series. The episode often serves as an epilogue or vignette to that couple.

Note: I don’t remember the order of episodes and this is entirely written based on my memory of the series.

The first series had…

OffGun as PickRome from their OG coupling (as a side dish) in Puppy Honey 1 & 2. In Puppy Honey they played the best friends of the main couple who ended up falling for each other as well. The first season had the kiss you could park a bus between which the second season had the steamy shower scene. Idk how Off went from 0 to 60 so fast but we all know he got there somehow. Anyway season 2 was much more focused on PickRome. The Our Skyy episode was set post Puppy Honey 2 and involved a mystical body swap. It was actually delightful and even back then Off and Gun were masters at acting.

TayNew as PeteKao from Kiss (as a secret side couple), Kiss Me Again (prequel to Kiss with PeteKao as one of a handful of couples but the series is trash and everyone just watches the official GMMTV PeteKao cut on youtube), and Dark Blue Kiss (sequel to Kiss focused entirely on PeteKao and directed by P’Aof). This episode was set somewhere in the timeline between Kiss Me Again and Dark Blue Kiss but no one has ever been able to agree exactly when. It doesn’t really matter though. The episode involves the pair going on a date/errand and being annoyed at each other or something and carrying around an orange tree idk I can’t remember it well.

DrakeFrank as MorkTee from My Tee aka ‘Cause You’re My Boy. I low key loved this series and it’s realism. It was about two boys in high school who were friends when they were in middle school but were separated for a few years just after their hormones started to kick in and they started to feel things for each other. When they reunite those feelings return quickly and stronger than before. My Tee suffered from a small budget, mismanagement of actors, and a confusing ending involving a mystery illness and study abroad. So their episode of Our Skyy was a very simple and sweet epilogue set in college that closed off the hanging threads and gave a nice ending to the couple.

PluemChimon as InSun, a side couple from My Dear Loser: Edge of 17. This was a really good high school series written by P’Aof. In begins as a member of a bully group and Sun begins as the openly gay new kid who befriends the nerd who is receiving the brunt of the bullying. In quickly leaves his bully buddies behind and becomes friends with Sun and eventually more. They end on a vague sort-of-dating note and nothing seems to have changed much by their Our Skyy episode set years later. But their episode had the privilege of being directed by P’Aof and it was a beautiful story that was really the highlight of the Our Skyy series.

SingtoKrist as KongpobArtihit from SOTUS 1 and 2. So, this really closed the book for SOTUS and SingtoKrist. SOTUS really was GMMTV’s first full BL series and it was a smash hit. It’s still considered a must watch series for any BL fan. So much about the world of BL in general can be linked back to SOTUS. Anyway, the episode is simple and mostly about Kongpob and Arthit dealing with a pending separation as Kongpob plans to study abroad. It’s a pretty decent send off to the series and couple.

So, there ya go. A basic summary of Our Skyy. As you probably noticed, many of these couples were side couples in het series. The original Our Skyy series was made from what BL couples were available at the time under GMMTV. Our Skyy 2 is much bigger with all the couples being from their very own very popular BL series. Two of the series haven’t even aired yet which is actually hilarious to me that they already have a plan in place for them.

Our Skyy 2 will have eight couples: EarthMix as PhuphaTian (A Tale of Thousand Stars), OhmNanon as PatPran (Bad Buddy), JoongDunk as KhabkluenDaonuea (Star and Sky: Star in My Mind), PondPhuwin as PalmNuengdiao (Never Let me Go), ForceBook as GunChay (A Boss and a Babe), JimmySea as PuenTalay (Vice Versa), FirstKhao as AkkAyan (The Eclipse), and GeminiFourth as TinGun (My School President)

At the rate GMMTV is pumping out BLs now, I wouldn’t be surprised if Our Skyy 3 is announced within the next two years.

Ok signing off!

xoxo BL Mentor 😆

#our skyy #our skyy 2 #Thai bl #gmmtv 2023 #bl series #SOTUS #dark blue kiss #taynew #offgun #pickrome #drakefrank

[1mnobodywhoareyou]

Never have I ever. . .A Little Red Riding Hood AU?

This is so very very specific and unexpected 😆

But my first impulse is to make Willie Red and Caleb as… omg ok. This is a bit off the rails but you get what you get 😂

OK so Willie is Red and he’s sent through the woods to take his grandparent (Caleb who is somehow eternally young) something. Maybe it’s potion ingredients for said youthfulness. Maybe it’s cookies. Idk. 

He’s met en route by the Big Bad Wolf (Alex, maybe he’s a shapeshifter? idk) who tries to intercept him/steal his basket. Willie can’t figure out why this wolf keeps trying to steal his shit and keeps fighting him off. Alex eventually gives up and leaves Willie alone. 

When Willie makes it to Caleb’s only to become witness to a magical fight between Caleb and this now anthropomorphised wolf. Alex had been sort of following (by walking ahead and exploring the area and then circling back) Willie because he didn’t actually know where Caleb lived and just beat him there. Hm. Maybe Caleb has the area charmed so nobody can find it most of the time but it drops momentarily when Willie is getting there?

Anyway, Alex defeats Caleb who explodes into a cloud of dust and Willie absolutely loses his shit - trying to beat Alex with whatever he can find (probably a broom) (he’s not magic. Or at least doesn’t know he is. Didn’t even really know magic existed until 2 seconds ago. No, he never questioned why his grandparent looked eternally 40 or lived alone in the woods). 

He’s obviously unsuccessful and the ridiculousness of it all causes Alex to break down in laughter, transforming into his entirely human form due to the lack of control (he probably doesn’t have clothes). 

Willie is gobsmacked and stops beating Alex with the broom. When Alex manages to calm down, Willie finds him clothes from inside Caleb’s cottage and starts berating him. Alex manages to calm him down and then explains that Caleb was actually evil and they’ve been trying to either find him or cut off access to his magical supplies for decades (centuries? Idk) and finally got their opportunity after watching Willie’s journeys over the years and piecing it all together.

“Who’s we?”

And then a couple of meeker creatures come out of the woods (I’ve now determined that they can only transform into a single creature type and Alex is the only one who is a large and strong enough predator to take on Caleb and for some reason their human forms aren’t strong enough to battle). Reggie is a chipmunk and Luke is a deer.

He then learns about magic and how to wield his own and befriends the weird little trio, rebridging them to the human world. 

The End!

Thank you thank you thank you! I hope you enjoy this weird little journey.

never have I ever

#this went completely sideways #😂 #jatp #ask game #answered ask

[dire-kumori]

2 ways i'd continue with the whole time is breaking lots of evil robots Idea. (This is not me saying you should end the AU!! I just like sharing my ideas-)

Normal idea: The Afton siblings work together and kill the reaper along with scrap trap and scrap baby. I don't know why but I imagine that Elizabeth and Evan fire a bunch of fireworks directly into the reaper's chest and then they explode and he explodes- The reaper is killed and like everything goes back to normal basically- Michael wakes up and begins his life with no reaper... Maybe everything goes the way it's supposed to maybe it doesn't... Maybe things will be better this time...?

Crackpot idea: Okay so I'm gonna sound insane but... What if instead of teaming up with scrap trap... scrap baby actively tries to help her pass self and the other Afton siblings? Like roll reversal (Mike's the rampaging murderer and Elizabeth is The one trying her best to make up for past mistakes) Anyway team up happens, Mike get one-on-one withh the reaper. the reaper goes on this long monolog about how: "You honestly think that killing me will stop all of this? No matter what you do our dad's always gonna be a b******, we're always going to be a terrible son and everything we care about will always fall to pieces..." Somehow The reaper, Mike and scrap trap are all kind of in a room together... scarp trap attacks past Mike in his anger and nearly kills him. Reaper realizes how terrible he's been watching his father nearly kill his past self (he's turned into the thing he's hated most) Saves past Michael. Kind of breaks the cycle and time sort of fixes itself... Everything from the future is mostly sent back. (A couple things are still in the past-) Including adult Michael and scrap baby. They basically warn their past selves not to trust their dad and then just leave. Planning on finding something better... Theaften siblings are left confused mentally scarred and miraculously alive. All of them agree that no matter what they're not turning into those things.. This one is more of just a branch off idea- Again very crackpot..

Normal idea:

We bring in the new year with fireworks. Marking the end of the time loop with fireworks feels only too appropriate!

Normally the Reaper can track Mike wherever he goes, but with the appearance of countless time traveling animatronics, not to mention multiple iterations of Michael Afton, the Reaper's memories are becoming disjointed and confused. He's lost his biggest weapon, and the Afton siblings are finally able to gain the upper hand. Springtrap and Scrap Baby and the Reaper all close in on the house, hunting each other and hunting young Mike. There's a big argument, but eventually Mike convinces them that he should be the bait to lure the monsters into a trap. While Michael leads them into the basement, Evan and Elizabeth prep the fireworks outside.

I'm gonna gloss over the long, arduous battle, the Scraps brawling with Reaper and the Reaper brutalizing young Mike, young Mike barely escaping by the skin of his teeth, drenched in his own and the Reaper's blood as he crawls out of the house. Long story short, monsters are trapped inside, tearing one another apart in a gory display while the Afton children put an end to this nightmare in a show of sparks and flame. They sit and watch their childhood home burn, and feel a sense of peace as time crumbles around them.

When they next wake up, it's at the side of a small pond in a black and red world.

Crackpot idea:

This makes for a pretty interesting idea! Okay, I'm gonna say that Scrap Baby still starts out following Scraptrap, still determined to earn her father/creator's love. But as her pursuit of the Reaper leads her to the Afton kids, she comes across that girl. The one from her memories/nightmares. The one whose voice she can sometimes still hear, screaming. Baby freezes. Long enough for Elizabeth and her brothers to get away from Scrap Baby. When he finds out that she let them escape, Scraptrap is furious with Scrap Baby. He makes sure to let her know what a disappointment she is before he resumes his own hunt.

The shock of seeing her past self has caused Elizabeth's soul to awaken inside of Scrap Baby. She begins to remember. And slowly, she begins to break free of Circus Baby's murderous programming. Suddenly the Afton kids gain a powerful new ally in the fight against the Reaper.

And she's not the only one. I didn't touch much on it earlier, but the other animatronics, even as they're going berserk, won't harm children. Kids all over town are being ripped away from their parents, adults left in bloody heaps in the streets as the animatronics sequester the children somewhere 'safe.' Of the animatronics, only a select few seem to have any sense of reason. The Puppet watches the carnage and weeps, searching for the cause of it. She knows on an instinctive level, that William and the Aftons are involved. And as she chases down Scraptrap, she discovers the newly awakened Scrap Baby, and soon the Afton children, sticking together and trying to survive in this hellscape.

Fast forwarding again, sadly, this ends with everyone being forced to say goodbye. Once time resets, nothing that shouldn't physically exist in 1981 (that's when I'm saying this takes place now, even though I never specified before) remains. Only thoughts and memories. To the Afton kids, this whole event will become one long, particularly vivid nightmare. To Scrap Baby, the Reaper, the Puppet and all the others, it's the end of the world. The future in which they come to be is erased, despite time resetting, as although nothing physically remains out of time, the event still leaves psychic scars on the Afton kids. For Mike in particular, this event lingers as a particularly vivid dream he never fully forgets, though it does fade in time. Michael, Elizabeth, and Evan aren't the same kids they were before the Reaper entered their lives, and they don't make the same choices or mistakes that they might have without his intervention.

#sorry if this is a little messy #brain fog is thick and I feel like I'm forgetting a lot of things I also wanted to write #also #I saw your idea about characters from the books and comics being pulled through the crumbling time stream #and while I personally won't talk about them too much since I haven't read them #and don't know the characters/situations from those stories well enough to really portray them #I IMMEDIATELY thought of different versions of the Aftons + friends from various AUs being pulled through #I'll elaborate more in the morning when my brain wakes up #ask #connectionterminated13 #Paradoxical Reaper AU

[thickness-protection-program]

Dear TPP,

I'll try to keep this as short as possible, I can ramble pretty bad. So I have a long distance friend, m/m both of us in early 30s, that I've know for a couple years. We mostly interact in a group dynamic (he's a casual small streamer and the regulars have become a group of friends).  Anyway it began as a normal "ooo cute stranger" crush, but now we've known each other for quite a while and my feelings have certainly grown. And I really think he has some very similar feelings for me (I have several points to think this but brevity).  And here is where the problems begin.

Both of us are more on the reserved/shy side and pretty much refuse to plainly say how we feel. So of course the solution is to just take the leap and say "boy I have strong feelings for you and what about it?" And I get that. And I'm working on trying to get that courage. BUT (here's the next problem) our relationship has a bit of an imbalance. I know what he looks like, since he does stream (on twitch) and the occasional selfie, and the most of myself he has ever seen is a couple "new haircut" pics that were only eyeballs and up, bcus that's the only part of myself I'm not afraid to show others. This is bcus I'm a midwestern 2-3 on a good day, and I have many times over had the app experience of "having a good conversation with a guy, then I finally send them my pics and get instantly blocked". Therefore I tend to refrain from sharing or even taking selfies. So I have an incredible fear of if I take the leap to express my true feelings, then I will of course have to show him who I am literally. And as I said above it's not a great presentation. I would I be able to continue to maintain the friendship if all the sudden things change after he sees me? And I know he's not enough of an asshole to just outright block and ghost me when he realizes I'm ugly so that will just leave us both in a terrible and awkward place.

Now on top of all of that if miraculously the feelings are reciprocated, and somehow he doesn't find me too ugly (since I know ppl always think of themselves as way uglier than other ppl think of them but I'm legit pretty bottom barrel) then we have our final major problem. That being I have so many problems and aspects that are often just flat out "deal breakers" for ppl. I think him getting involved with me is a huge mistake and for his own good I would not want to pull him into my abyss of issues or go through my laundry list of possible deal breakers.

All in all that basically sums it up. And I do apologize for dumping this on you (I just saw your post that said something like TPP advice is open), and I don't like discussing my personal matters with ppl in my immediacy (another problem of mine haha) so I have been wanting to discuss this with a third party. In a way I feel like I know what I need to do, but I just want to bounce it off someone for idea, and maybe what order to proceed and see if maybe I really am just THAT insane and I should just go live in a cave.

Sincerely,

Neurotic Sword

Hmm ok. First off I wanna say there is no such thing as being ugly and anybody who treats you poorly based off of how they perceive you is a reflection on THEM not you. And how you perceive yourself is much more important than how anybody else perceives you, so don't let anybody make you feel bad for taking selfies and loving yourself.

As for this specific situation, I can understand where you're coming from. I do think it is important though that whoever you're wanting to pursue any sort or platonic or romantic relationship with knows what you look like. Obviously you don't have to like send a picture every day or anything but I feel like knowing what you look like builds a base layer of trust since you know for sure who you're talking to. You don't necessarily have to outright be like "hey I like you" just yet but eventually he would have to see you. And if he responds negatively then babe you dodged a bullet bc everybody deserves respect no matter what you look like. I don't know any specifics but I do feel like if you guys have been talking for this long then the relationship shouldn't be broken by a face reveal.

Also, babe, it's not good to yourself to bring yourself down like this. Yes all your feelings and emotions are valid but you are not this horrible person you think you are. Getting with you is NOT a mistake but a blessing. But again I don't know the specifics so I can't really say anything in detail but ultimately you have to do what's best for YOU not what's best for anybody else. And trust me I know what it's like being shy but shyness has to take a backseat when it comes to doing what's best for your own happiness

I'm not sure if any of this helps or is useful but if you have anything else to say I'm here

[frogsandfries]

Getting out of the house today was kinda nice. It was nice to work in my sketchbook somewhere other than the living room or office. We picked up some stuff for the house--we had to leave a couple things at the store because I didn't know if they'd fit in my bag. They wouldn't have. I got some regular shading brushes and decided to try some brushes that are meant for gluing. I looked for the mermaid paper, like what I used for my enamel pin board.

They didn't have any. I saw a book recently on reddit that used a paper like that and I was inspired.

I got a bunch of lineworks inked today, so that was pretty cool.

I wish this city catered more to the arts. It's so hard to find like, cool papers for book making or--like, I asked the cashier at Michael's if they had Derwent colored pencils. He didn't think so. I mean, even if the next city over had a Blick or like, even a Utrecht, anything!

Anyway, I guess I should get some sleep. Looks like I'm sleeping alone again, for the second time this week.....I can't stay up all night playing video games--I can't even stay up all night working on my graphic novel. I have to try to stay mostly diurnal.

Speaking of which, between the medication, the apple cider vinegar, and the kombucha (and maybe finally upping my SSRI), I've felt a lot better--my digestion is closer to normal than it's been since I moved to New Mexico, I haven't had the same need to nap. I do feel a little guilty though: I feel like I've been given permission by several doctors to indulge my ARFID, and whenever I try to mention disordered eating, I feel like it gets completely blown off..... So I'm just over here patting myself guiltily on the back for feeling hungry most of the day...... which is probably fine? Eat less, poop less?

Like....... when does disordered eating become a problem? When I'm so used to living that way, that I'm down to 125 pounds somehow? When I'm clearly wasting away?? When I'm too fat to take the bus?? Honestly it's fucked up: I tell doctor after doctor that I would just rather choose not to eat and because I'm obese....... that's like, not concerning?? I'm not over here bingeing, I'm really not. I think being given basically permission to indulge my disordered eating will make it easy to lose the weight but...... it's not okay to willingly, easily choose hunger..... and I know this? But I'm being told..... it is? I mean, I guess luckily, I have been forced to face that it is disordered eating and as such, I've been working on overriding it. Perhaps to my detriment, as it would turn out..... Anyway.

It'd be nice to take my headphones and my sketchbook and just go hang out tomorrow, maybe at the library or a favored café. That'd be cool. I'd also love to get ahold of just a ton of cool end papers and fabrics for book binding.

I'm also starting to collect decent paper, mostly from our junk mail, so I can add it to my paper making hoard. At some point, I'll probably start by shredding it, and eventually I can pulp-ify it, dehydrate that for later, and so on. I want to make at least a sketchbook worth of paper and there are a bunch of paper making tools that I don't have: a frame and deckle, screen of any sort, a tub for the water, cloths for drying the paper, blender for blending the pulp........ probably other stuff. And I mean, I'm always complaining about how plain my paper is. As much as I scoffed about adding shaved crayon to my paper, I could grind up some water color and maybe dust that over my paper for example.

Thinking about making paper reminds me of experimenting with papier mache clay, when I would do an initial blend of my paper shreds, wring that out and crumble it, leave it to dry and then soak it back down and blend it again. I think that's really how I'm going to get a finer paper like I want.

I'm clearly obsessed with almost every aspect of bookbinding.

[dourpeep]

IT WAS 2AM WHEN I SENT THAT SO I HELD BACK MY SIMPING FOR COLLEGE ALBEDO A LITTLE. tried not to send all my brainrot so I didn't just send a wall of text into your inbox LOL. Some others I thought of were:

- Mona giving astrology forecasts and compatibility readings in this au and Albedo may have asked her about the two of you

- Going to botanical gardens or museums with Albedo but for some reason it feels like a date even when it didn't intent to be. You tug on his sleeve now and then when you see something he might be interested in or even when it's something that excites you, and Albedo can't help but have a soft look in his eyes that he can share this moment with you! Somehow it results in the two of you holding hands - just so neither of you stray from each other of course - and eventually, intertwined fingers. You hear someone say that the two of you seem like a cute couple and you know Albedo heard it too, but neither of you say anything. You feel his hand squeeze yours a little tighter and respond in kind. The two of you are too embarrassed to look at each other but can't help the smiles on your faces.

- Lending Albedo some of your favourite books for pleasure reading and you've left tiny tabs on lines that you like. Perhaps this is before Albedo realizes his feelings so when he reads particularly romantic lines, he wonders if this is how he feels about you. Or did you mark these pages because you feel this way about someone? His stomach is in knots to the thought that you may be intrested in someone that isn't him and he settles for it just being prose.

WHAT YOU WROTE WAS SO CUTE AAA. THANK YOU FOR SIMPING FOR COLLEGE BEDO WITH ME!!

Tugging his hand and not letting go omg . . . you tend to just intertwine pinkies or play with his fingers absent-mindedly that Albedo becomes so accustomed to it so he starts to offer you his hands without a second thought.

WAIT. I gasped at Albedo being a cuddler. He's a little delirious when he first wakes up but you're so comfy that he hugs you a little tighter, asking if you've slept well. You try to reply while worrying about whether or not he can feel your heart thrumming in your chest.

What if Klee is staying with Albedo one night and the three of you fall asleep cuddled up together. Alice comes back early in the morning before any of you are awake and takes a picture. She sends it to Albedo later and he sets it as his phone's wallpaper.

Albedo staring at your lips winded me, thank you.

YES TO THE SWEATERS. I bet Albedo would have the softest and coziest sweaters too! Imagine it being a little cold out and you see Albedo across campus so you bound over to him and give him a hug. You nuzzle into him and mumble out a little 'hello' and say he's warm. You feel his laugh rumble through his chest while he greets you back, wrapping his arms around you

And I LOVE ALL YOUR HEADCANONS! I believe I found your blog around the time you posted Albedo's snort headcanon and it was too much for my heart!! I held tight to that headcanon and never let go lol. I also thought the science + college headcanons you had of him were really nice despite not being necessarily romantic!

Side note: I looked up that lobster fact and that's so cool!!

The Lobster Fact(tm) is my go-to ice breaker and it always fails. I'd imagine it's normally the same w/ Bedo OTL so sad...not many wish to know about potential lobster immortality.

I'm glad that you love the headcanons though!! I enjoy writing for Albedo so so much as you can tell ehe

That being said--if it makes you more comfy to send stuff in a few bursts of asks, I don't mind :DD I'll answer them as usual nodnod

OKIE DOKIE

-

"...Mona, yes?"

"Ah, I was expecting you to come around sooner or later, Kreideprinz."

Really, Albedo didn't mean to stumble upon the Astronomy major, but for some reason the thought of you has been on his mind and the campus' observatory just so happened to be on the way. With the meager hope that...maybe he'd find some sort of answer (in what, he wasn't really sure himself), there she was.

Luckily, she knew just what he was there for.

The moment that she twirls her hand with a wave, telling him that there isn't anything to worry about, the apprehension creeping within his chest at the thought of seeing you next-

disappeared.

It's not often that he turns to less orthodox methods, but he wouldn't lie. Knowing that--at least in Mona's opinion (which tended to be correct, anyway)--the two of you were undoubtly compatible? Something about how your constellations were intertwined...

In fact, Albedo turns a little theory around in his mind. Though based in old folktales, the idea that you gravitate towards those who are made of the very same stardust as yourself, suddenly made sense.

Or, perhaps he was just being hopeful.

-

Little does he know that you most definitely asked Mona about the same thing earlier that day.

-

AHHHHH BUT OF COURSE-

Any of those kinds of places--Botanical Gardens, Art Museums, Aquariums, Zoos, Museums in general--Any place where you're able to utterly lose yourself in your surroundings and look around in awe, really, are your go-to date outing destination!

Usually, it's just the two of you, maybe with Sucrose or Timaeus if it's for a particular class, as well as the occasional Klee in tow whenever Alice is busy with work.

But in this case, fingers interlocked, it's just the two of you on a impromptu trip to the art museum downtown after seeing a promotional banner about a new exhibit. Once inside, you rush along, Albedo trailing close behind with a light squeeze of your hand. The large area used for temporary exhibits isn't far from the entrance, so it's not long until you skid to a stop.

All along the walls are incredibly detailed oil paintings, the thin layered strokes glistening in the light. Albedo takes a moment to whisper to you about how oil paint works.

Due to the thinness of the paint and it's transparency, light passes through every carefully placed stroke, allowing for a unique sort of depth that isn't achievable with other painting media. You smile, the artificial light of the art exhibit making your features glow and Albedo can't help but wonder if you are like those paintings.

So complex, so carefully created in an image perfected with time. Your eyes search his and you say his name and Albedo clears his throat when he realizes he's been staring.

"Do you like this one?"

Ah, you must've assumed he took a liking to this particular painting.

His eyes shift back to it, taking in the sight of the balance of color, the composition, then back to you. He only stares a second longer before nodding.

Whether or not you realize the view he likes is you is something that he dwells on as you both make your way to the next painting.

-

If you had a penny for every time that someone comments on the way you compliment each other, you'd probably be able to pay off your tuition for next semester.

Okay, perhaps not, but the idea still stands.

You're only just at the end of the art exhibit when the security guard wishes the two of you a lovely date. Something about how young love is something to be treasured, something about how the two of you already seem so natural and comfortable in each other's presence.

Before you can mumble out an explanation, Albedo just squeezes your hand, gentle as always, and smiles.

It's a compliment, right? For someone to see how close you are, even if you really are just friends, is a good thing.

Ignoring the warmth that spreads over your cheeks, you smile and turn your head away shyly. Squeezing his hand back, the thought of what it'd be like if you were together crosses your mind.

-

Just as you lend books to him, he lends books to you. Surprisingly, this time it just so happens to be a poetry book--something that you expressed interest in a week ago but ended up not getting.

Within, he's left colorful notes with his neat, slanted writing.

Short discussions (presumably questions to himself) of what the poet must've been thinking, different possible scenarios, are peppered throughout the book. But one just so happens to catch your eye. Rather than a question, it's a statement. Simple, short, and...sweet.

'You carry the aura of the stars.'

The little yellow sticky note pasted beneath a love poem to the night sky stands out. Suppressing a flutter in your chest, you continue reading through the poem book with a few giggles at Albedo's musings until you find a note with most of the words crossed out.

It's entirely unlike him, the way that the dark ink scribbled over the words, making them illegible.

But at the bottom was a continued attempt--one you presume he was satisfied with by the way it lay pristine on the colorful paper.

'You look. I fail to speak.

Your mind, so brilliant as it is I wish to see behind To further appreciate the one I love.

I can only hope one day you shall let me in, So for now I wait patiently by your side.'

Who could he have written this for? You can't help but stare at the poetic attempt, knowing full well that Albedo seldom does something without meaning.

The book closes and you tuck it back on the shelf to ask about later.

-

AAAAA YESYESYESYES I LOVE THAT CUDDLE PILE W/ ALBEDO AND KLEE

Even though Albedo's a grade A student and certified genius (he's adamant in his denial, shaking his head and mumbling about how he just studies hard), he's not entirely a stickler for rules.

Well, that is, Aunt Alice's suggestion that Klee goes to bed by 9.

Instead, the three of you settle in the common room of Albedo's place in a bundle of pillows and blankets at the demands of a pillow fort.

The tv blinks on accompanied by the near silent click of the remote.

"What should we watch?"

Klee always ends up picking the movie. This time, she wants Alice in Wonderland, commenting on how the bunny is like her best friend Dodoco and the blonde girl on screen is named after mommy. Albedo doesn't bother correcting her, even though he knows quite well that dear, sweet Dodoco is a chinchilla.

Between sips of juice and a few mouthfuls of popcorn, the three of you fall asleep, Klee curled up besides you and Albedo's arm draped over you both.

Even when the sun is up in the sky, you sleep peacefully.

So, naturally, Aunt Alice has a spare key just in case something like this happens.

Immediately she's met with the sweetest view--her two kids (she's practically adopted Albedo as her own at this point) and--

Hiding a cheeky smile behind her hand, Alice can't help but sneak a little closer when she spies the way that you and Albedo somehow gravitated closer, his face buried in your hair and yours resting against his collar. Wedged between you with tousled hair, Klee snoozes peacefully.

She snaps a picture, followed by another, and another, and a fourth for good measures before meandering into the kitchen to prep something for breakfast.

Might as well let her three favorite people enjoy the comfort of sleep for a little longer...

You wake up the moment that Klee wiggles her way out of the blankets, nuzzling against the warmth radiating under your cheek.

Nice and cozy. Smells nice...wait.

Eyes fluttering open, you're met with a familiar birthmark and the nearly gone scent of Albedo's cologne.

You nearly pull away until the arm, now wrapped around your waist, pulls you closer accompanied by a satisfied sigh. Ah. You shut your eyes tight when you realize that Albedo's going to be asleep for at least another thirty minutes, resigning to your fate gladly.

Of course, Alice takes the opportunity to snap a few more pictures when you've finally fallen back asleep.

-

YES ALSO ALSO

Speaking of Albedo and sweaters and warm and also the just mentioned cologne. A little fun tidbit--not only are you familiar with the scent of his cologne because he wears it often, but it (in this au) is actually one that you picked out some time back. You probably were at the store together smelling some of the perfumes when you came across one that you were pleasantly surprised by.

Specifically, something that's lightly floral, a little warm but sweet with a hint of earthiness.

The pros? It fits Albedo perfectly! It also kinda sticks well and his place faintly smells of it.

The cons?? Well...you're embarrassed to say that hugging Albedo tends to drag on a little longer than anticipated because it's just such a comforting scent-

Not because you associate it with Albedo or anything-

Ehe

Man I really went to town again, didn't I?? Well, I'm glad that you enjoy my headcanons :DDD Albedo just seems like such a sweet person??? Like endearing in a way that just is...him. If that makes sense.

Brain go brrrrrr

I'll admit that my favorite headcanons for Bedo are mundane and domestic ones though! Like these! Just the little moments where there's nothing really going on except for him and you and ahhhh yesyesyes

Okay that's all-

#anon asks #albedo #albedo headcanons #genshin impact albedo #albedo x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact fics #genshin impact drabbles #modern au #college au #modern au albedo

[robininthelabyrinth]

For your prompts: Mingjue is ace or demi, and somehow between taking over the sect at a very young age and never displaying interest in it, no one ever gave him The Sex Talk. All the aunts and uncles assumed someone else took care of it. Then Huaisang gets to that age. He seems to be very interested in sex. He needs The Sex Talk. Mingjue feels like that should come from him (he's taken care of all the rest pf raising him after all), but he doesn't have the info to do that.

How does Mingjue give him The Sex Talk? Or alternatively, does Huaisang end up already knowing and giving The Talk to his big brother instead?

ao3

“All right,” Nie Mingjue said, sitting down and gesturing for Nie Huaisang to sit down across from him. “I guess we’re going to have to talk about this.”

“I knew this day would come,” Nie Huaisang said, looking unbearably tragic. “I’m going to die of embarrassment before the day is through, da-ge. Won’t you have pity?”

Nie Mingjue knew him too well, though.

“Okay,” he said.

Nie Huaisang frowned at him.

“If it’s too embarrassing to talk about sex, you’re not ready to talk about sex,” Nie Mingjue said with a casual shrug. “We can postpone the conversation to –”

“No! I want to hear about it!” Nie Huaisang scowled at him. “Da-ge, everyone else got the sex talk! You wouldn’t want me to fall behind, would you?”

Nie Mingjue blinked innocently at him. “But Huaisang, you said…”

“Never mind what I said!”

Nie Mingjue tried to maintain his façade of innocent neutrality but quickly cracked in the face of Nie Huaisang’s exasperation; he started laughing.

Nie Huaisang grumbled.

“There’s not much to say,” Nie Mingjue said, wiping his eyes. “And it’s not as if you can’t get by without it, you know. I mean, no one ever gave me the talk.”

Nie Huaisang frowned. “No one? What about A-die? I mean, before…”

“He was busy, and kept postponing it,” Nie Mingjue said, shrugging. “And then he died, and everyone assumed he’d done it already. It’s fine. Everything I needed to learn, I learned from books, and you’re going to do the same.”

“…books.”

“Yep, books.”

Nie Huaisang heaved a sigh. “You’re going to make me learn this incredibly important subject from textbooks? Really, da-ge?”

“I am,” Nie Mingjue said.

“You’re robbing me of a valuable life experience here.”

“I’m so sad for you,” Nie Mingjue said dryly, pulling out a box and spreading out the books he’d obtained just for this purpose. “Now, I know you hate studying, I know you think it’s boring and a waste of time, but I really think in this instance –”

“It’s fine,” Nie Huaisang said quickly. His eyes were fixated on the books in front of him, and for some reason he’d flushed bright red, even though it wasn’t all that hot in the room. “I don’t mind. I’ll study hard, da-ge.”

“I feel like I’ve heard that before once or twice,” Nie Mingjue remarked, then shook his head. “Anyway, I think just one or two –”

“I need all of them.”

Nie Mingjue blinked, sincerely this time. “All of them?” he said, and looked down at the books. “Huaisang, I don’t think you understand. I got a selection so that you could have your pick, but they’re by and large very repetitive; each one more or less describes the same basic acts –”

“I need all of them. For reasons.”

“…all right,” Nie Mingjue said, bemused but generally pleased by Nie Huaisang’s highly unusual enthusiasm for study. “I thought I was robbing you of a valuable life experience?”

“That was before! I didn’t realize the books were going to be spring books,” Nie Huaisang said. He’d grabbed one and flipped it open, staring wide-eyed at one of the illustrations.

“What type of textbook would there be for this subject other than a spring book?” Nie Mingjue asked, wondering – as ever – if he’d missed something. Raising children was hard, and raising Nie Huaisang was harder; everyone agreed. “Anyway, I’m given to understand that the art is a bit exaggerated, especially in terms of proportion, and the accompanying text can use some rather strange metaphors, but fundamentally the acts described appear generally consistent throughout the various sources. For example, if you look at this one, you can see that the woman has –”

“Yes, da-ge, I can see.”

“I’m just pointing it out,” Nie Mingjue said defensively. Nie Huaisang was being especially impossible to understand today. “Anyway, it’s all a bit weird, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” Nie Huaisang said. “Very weird. Incredibly weird. You know what, I think I need to think about this privately for a while.”

“I…are you sure?”

“Very sure.”

“If you insist.” Nie Mingjue stood up. “If you have any questions –”

“Yes I’ll be sure to ask you please leave now thank you good-bye.”

Nie Mingjue found himself outside the door to Nie Huaisang’s room, not entirely sure how his much smaller younger brother had managed to push him out so effectively. Maybe some of that saber training was actually having an impact, however spaced out and half-hearted Nie Huaisang’s efforts were.

Cheered by the thought, Nie Mingjue headed back to his office, feeling very good about himself: that wasn’t nearly as awkward as all the other people had made it sound. It’d been no problem at all!

Of course, a few months later, he found out that Nie Huaisang had started buying up spring books like he’d developed a mania for it.

“That seems fine,” he said to the disciple who’d reported it. “I mean, it’s a bit strange, yes, but he’s always been fond of hobbies that involve collecting things. Birds, weird rocks…that sort of thing.”

“I’m not sure it’s…exactly the same,” the disciple said carefully. “But if you’re not concerned, Sect Leader, we’ll just leave it be.”

“…I’ll talk with him,” Nie Mingjue decided, mostly because of the weird expression on the disciple’s face, and the disciple looked relieved.

Later that evening, he followed up on his word.

“Huaisang, I heard you’re buying spring books,” he said, and Nie Huaisang nearly choked on his soup.

“You can’t just bring that up over dinner!” he hissed.

“…why not?”

“You just – can’t!”

“I can, and did,” Nie Mingjue said. “Some of the disciples have expressed some concern about it.”

Nie Huaisang’s shoulders went up by his ears defensively. “Is it because I’m buying cutsleeve books as well as regular books?”

“They sell cutsleeve books? Really?” Nie Mingjue said blankly, temporarily distracted. “I wouldn’t have thought there’d be enough of a market to make the printing worthwhile. Aren't they supposed to be relatively uncommon? …anyway, no, it’s not about that.”

“…you don’t mind?”

“Why would I mind?” Nie Mingjue said, puzzled. “I’m glad you’re expanding your horizons.”

“You…are?” Nie Huaisang was blinking rapidly.

“I mean, you’re reading? Reading is good. I’m always happy when you advance your scholarly pursuits,” Nie Mingjue said. “I mean, I’d still like it if you spent a bit more time on your saber…”

“Wait,” Nie Huaisang said hastily, clearly wanting to avoid the subject of his saber training. “If you don’t mind the fact that I’m buying them, or the content, what is the concern?”

“Mostly quantity, I think?” Nie Mingjue hadn’t been able to figure it out either. “You’ve exceeded your allowance twice already, and really, how many books recounting the same exact content can you really need?”

“It’s not quite the same content,” Nie Huaisang said. “There are different…scenarios.”

“Yes, but it all leads to the same place in the end, doesn’t it? Hand, mouth, front, back, inside or outside; you read one, you’ve read them all. Though I guess the cutsleeve ones are different?”

“Not really,” Nie Huaisang admitted. “But maybe take a look anyway? Maybe you’ll like those better…here, come up to my room.”

Nie Huaisang had, apparently, started in on making quite a collection, and from the way he puttered around trying to find the right ones to share, seemed to be in the process of becoming a little connoisseur. It was pretty adorable, actually; Nie Mingjue couldn’t remember the last time he’d seen Nie Huaisang so enthusiastic.

“Having two spears involved does seem to make it a bit more awkward,” he concluded after paging through a few. “And obviously you can’t do it from the front in the same way, but other than that the mechanics generally seem the same. I suppose there’s really only so many ways you can twist the human body…”

“How about this one, then?” Nie Huaisang said, offering up a book about mirror grinders sharing a toy between them. “Twice the young ladies involved!”

“That seems even less efficient. If they wanted to be penetrated, why be a mirror grinder instead of finding a man?”

Nie Huaisang seemed somewhat taken aback by the question. “Maybe they just fell in love with another woman first?” he eventually suggested.

That seemed reasonable enough, so Nie Mingjue nodded agreeably. “Makes sense that they’d use a toy, then. Otherwise wouldn't they be stuck with using just mouths and hands? Though I suppose there’s always the eponymous grinding motion, too.”

Nie Huaisang reached over and put his hand in Nie Mingjue’s lap.

“Huaisang! What are you doing?”

“Just checking,” Nie Huaisang said, rubbing the back of his head. “You’re really not…Wait, let me find you some others. Maybe you’ll like these better – they have more scenario involved.”

Truly Nie Huaisang had a wide collection. There were solo stories, coupled stories, stories involved groups of three or more, stories involving people being tied up or doing the tying, one story involving whips and pinching nails that Nie Mingjue initially thought was a torture manual that had gotten mixed in by mistake except for how the receiving party seemed extremely enthusiastic about it. There was even one involving –

“Fish?”

“Tentacles.”

“People want to fuck fish?”

“It’s not – you know what, I don’t know, maybe they do,” Nie Huaisang said, throwing up his hands. “Octopi are a surprisingly popular subject along the coast, and some of the artwork from Dongying features it.”

“You have works from Dongying?” Nie Mingjue asked, impressed. It wasn’t every young man’s hobby that involved international commerce. “You’re really turning into a collector, Huaisang.”

“I’m not – it’s not –” Nie Huaisang grimaced. “You know what, maybe the disciples are right and I should cut down on purchasing so many.”

“Why? If you’re enjoying your new hobby –”

“There’s a difference between being known as the guy who has some good spring books and being known as the guy who collects spring books as a hobby. The latter just sounds pathetic.”

Nie Mingjue wasn’t entirely sure about that.

“Well, it’s up to you,” he said, and started to get up to leave, only to have Nie Huaisang tug on his hand.

“Da-ge, I have a question.”

Nie Mingjue sat back down.

“Have you ever…?” Nie Huaisang nodded at the books.

“No,” Nie Mingjue said, wrinkling his nose a bit at the thought. “It seems like more trouble than it’s worth, really.”

“What about…uh…” He gestured at one in particular. Nie Mingjue leaned over and checked; it was one of the ones featuring a single man touching himself. “Do you…?”

“Oh, sure,” Nie Mingjue said. “Every once in a while. Don't most people? But there’s rather a difference between doing that and having to get up close and personal with someone else’s genitals, isn’t there? We all wipe our own asses after we shit, but that doesn’t mean we do it for other people.” He gave Nie Huaisang a pointed look. “Present company excluded.”

“I was a baby, it doesn’t count,” Nie Huaisang hissed at him. “Never bring it up again.”

Nie Mingjue smirked at him.

Nie Huaisang rolled his eyes dramatically. “Da-ge, you’re hopeless. One day you’ll find someone you like enough to try it with!”

“Maybe,” Nie Mingjue said. “Maybe not. It doesn’t really matter, does it?”

“Uh, yes it does! You’re going to have kids, aren’t you?”

“I haven’t decided yet,” Nie Mingjue said, hesitating a little. “Huaisang, you’re my heir.”

“I know that! I’m in line until you have kids of your own to inherit…why are you shaking your head?”

“You’re going to inherit after me,” Nie Mingjue said, as gently as he could. “I’m probably not going to have kids, but even if I did, I’d arrange it so that they’d be part of the branch family, not the main line. I want you to inherit.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes were going wide.

No, it was too early to tell him about the saber spirits, Nie Mingjue thought to himself. About their family's horrible temper and his private suspicion that the temper and the qi deviations fed into each other; his conviction that Nie Huaisang would be a better sect leader than him, a better continuation for their line than him, and his determination to make sure that the next generation of Nie sect leaders didn't have to fear a shortened life the way he did. He’d tell him that later, sometime. Today was a good day, there was no point in spoiling it.

“Is that going to be a problem?” he asked instead. “I mean, you have such a wide variety here; don’t tell me you’re solely interested in cut-sleeves…?”

“No,” Nie Huaisang said. “No, I like – everything.”

“Well, then,” Nie Mingjue said. “There should be no problem, then. If you end up with a woman, have some kids; if you end up with a man, take a concubine. Either way, you’ll get an heir.” He frowned. “Assuming you don’t mind –”

“No, da-ge,” Nie Huaisang said, and he sounded incredibly long-suffering. “I think I’ll manage to have sex, somehow.”

“Well, I mean, if you’re thinking about actually going ahead and trying it out, that’s a whole different conversation we need to have, as opposed to the talk about what it is. You need to be careful about it –”

“Ugh, da-ge, please, no –”

“I’m not going to lecture! Just don’t overdo it or anything. You don’t want to end up with a thousand bastards like Sect Leader Jin –”

“Gross! No!”

“– or with all sorts of diseases –”

“Da-ge!”

“– or with a reputation for being a dissolute or a –”

“I will only have sex with someone I love,” Nie Huaisang announced. “Or at least mildly care for. A nice clean person who likes me back. Okay? Is that what you wanted to hear?”

“More or less,” Nie Mingjue said, and glanced down at the books. “Say, Huaisang. You know so much about this. Have you ever…”

“Do you have a question?” Nie Huaisang scooted forward. “Ask away, da-ge!”

Nie Mingjue flicked his forehead. “Not a substantive one. But have you ever thought about making your own? You’re a perfectly good artist, and you’re very imaginative; I’m sure you could come up with some scenarios of your own that might be very interesting.”

Nie Huaisang’s eyes were wide. “I could, couldn’t I?” he said, marveling, and then suddenly jumped up and dashed over to grab some paper. “Oh, I could! I could – and that – and – and..!”

Nie Mingjue decided to retreat, smiling proudly to himself.

Reading and writing, he thought happily. They’d probably never get a warrior out of Nie Huaisang, but there might be a scholar in him yet!

#mdzs #nie huaisang #nie mingjue #my fic #my fics #the talk

[danses-with-dogmeat]

could you write the sensory overload prompt with fallout new vegas companions as well (including benny)? and maybe butch deloria if thats not too much ^^

Romanced! FO3 & FONV Companions React to Autistic!Six/Lone with Sensory Overload Anxiety

Whoops, I ended up doing all of the companions from FO3 as well, my bad 🤷‍♀️

But here they are! Thank you so much for the ask, and I hope you enjoy!

This prompt with FO4 R!Companions

FONV

Arcade:

The doctor would want to help, would actually know how to help, but he may just get overwhelmed as well. He tends to focus on Six themself, rather than the situation surrounding them, that’s where the panic tends to get to him. But Six, he can deal with. If possible, he will try to remove his companion from their stressful surroundings, but whether or not he is able, Arcade tries to stay calm, using his voice, and breathing techniques and exercises he’s read about to try and deflate their rising anxieties. He tends to make sarcastic comments in the aftermath, more so to expel his own pent up anxiety than to help Six, but they don’t need to know that.

Benny:

He's scared out of his mind the first time it happens. Six is pretty much invincible in his eyes, so this… just being around loud noises and such? That's what's rustling their jimmies? Wack. For a small moment, he feels like it's his fault, and even after the courier informs him that this is just a part of who they are, that they have always been this way, he still feels another dizzying pang of regret, knowing that a couple of bullets to the brain probably couldn't have helped their preexisting condition in any way. Over time, he'd get better about helping to calm his partner down, but he starts out rather overbearing, touching them too much, talking too quickly, having a panicked reaction that tends to only escalate the sensory overload they're experiencing. At least Six wouldn't have to worry about their safety in a combat situation with the Ben-man at their side. He's one of the best shots in the Mojave (if not the best). No one is getting past him. He may be an old hat when it comes to injuring Six, but he'll be hot diggidy damned if he's gonna let someone else lay a finger on them under his watch.

Boone:

First off, the sniper would try to prevent Six from entering into any stress-filled situations at all, reminding them that he is more dangerous from a distance anyway. However, he knows that, in the Mojave, avoiding dangerous or overwhelming environments altogether is damn near impossible, so he’ll try to be prepared. He’s dealt with his own vicious bouts of PTSD long enough to have developed coping mechanisms to help him, and has actively used tools like sunglasses and ear plugs in his time with the 1st Recon, which he would recommend to them as well. Boone would approach his partner in their time of need, trying to refrain from being overbearing, but ultimately his support wouldn’t waver as he helped Six try to come down from their state of panic.

Cass:

She honestly doesn't understand how Six has been able to survive in this world with their sensory overload anxiety, and she respects them even more now that she knows they have managed to. She may not be the best at helping them handle their stress, so she usually leaves Six to their own devices while she works on removing anything that could be causing her partner's apprehension. Once the threat is gone, she'll stand nearby until Six has managed to calm themself down, just to cover them and keep an eye out. When it seems to be over, she likes to bring them somewhere to unwind; and enjoys simply sitting with them and maybe having a drink or two as they recover their strength, and bearings.

Raul:

He’ll talk them through the whole ordeal. Is he nervous about their state of panic? Probably. But his partner doesn’t need to know that. The ghoul doesn’t know a lot in terms of dealing with meltdowns, but for Six, he’ll try. Whatever sort of exercises they start to engage in to get their anxiety under control, he’ll be beside them, trying to participate, to help them through it if they seem to be struggling. He’ll get better at dealing with it over time, but it always scares him a bit to see his partner this way. Evidently, he will become more and more aware of his surroundings the more they travel together, and will try to keep them away from the situations he finds tend to set them off.

Veronica:

Whatever it was that seemed to have Six panicked, Veronica would seek to expel it in whatever way she can (but she's most enthusiastic when it involves punching). Her physical assault of the enemies responsible would be relentless, but should the episode be caused by something else, Veronica would be less comfortable dealing with it, but she’ll be damned if she doesn’t try. She mostly leaves Six to figure out their meltdown on their own, maybe going through breathing exercises with them and sticking by their side, but letting them calm themself of their own accord. Her involvement with the Berotherhood has taught her enough to know not to add any pressure to someone enduring this amount of stress. However, when they do eventually tell her that they are through the worst of it, she would try to give them some form of physical contact to help reassure them that she’s there for them, if they are comfortable with it.

FO3

Butch:

He’s known Lone a long time, and since they were kids, he’s been learning about the sort of situations that set them off. Now that they’re together, he’ll try his hardest to think back to all the times they were overwhelmed, and would attempt to keep them from these types of environments as best as he can. That doesn’t always work though, given the differences between the vault and the unpredictable outside world. Despite this, he also tends to remember the way their father used to help them when they became panicked like this, and will try to replicate these actions in order to best help his companion. Once he's succeeded in helping them calm down, they might have to return the favor, as their panic tends to do a number on Butch. Though he has seen them in such a state more than a few times, that doesn’t mean he likes it one bit, or will ever be truly used to it.

Charon:

Calm and collected as ever, Charon would systematically eliminate all stressful factors that could be affecting Lone. When he had seen to that task, he would turn to his partner, standing by their side and waiting for direction of how best he could help them. If they can recover on their own, he’ll be nearby to cover them, but if they are in need of his assistance, as long as they tell him what they need, he will oblige. In the aftermath of Lone’s meltdown, Charon would keep his blue eyes locked on them as his worry wears away at his stoic exterior. They will need to tell him that they are okay, or else he will refuse to carry on with their travels. Until he knows they can handle it, he won’t allow them to set off again.

Clover:

The poor thing would do everything wrong in this instance. She would try so damn hard to help her partner in their time of need, but ultimately she would prove to only add to the list of overwhelming factors surrounding Lone. As soon as she saw the panic wash over her companion, she would be by their side, speaking to them quickly, and as quietly as she could, but her own anxiety would cause a high pitch to sound from her throat as she tried to talk her companion down, running her hands over their arms as she does her best to support them, her frantic touches only serving to quicken their heartbeat further as they felt trapped by her concerned caresses. Once Lone finally does manage to settle down, Clover would be almost hurt by their lack of reciprocation when she tried to aid them; that is, until Lone explains to her that there are better ways for her to help. Now Clover just has to remember this for future instances...

Cross:

She’s been a soldier long enough to know how to deal with stress on the battlefield, but it’s somehow different when it’s her partner going through the ordeal. She’ll be uncharacteristically tender as she takes them through the motions she was taught to use in order to calm her fellow soldiers’ nerves. Her voice would remain soft, her touches gentle, her brows knitted together in concern until Lone finally showed signs of calming down. The paladin would release a long breath, as though finally expelling her own apprehension at the situation, and then would straighten herself up, returning to the seasoned soldier she was in order to face whatever was left of the situation at hand.

Fawkes:

The super mutant has a difficult time with subdelty, and would be worried about overwhelming Lone from his own loud tendencies. Should they start becoming uncomfortable while in his presence, he would actually distance himself from them, trying to turn away any additional factors that could be playing a part in their overload. Once they appear to have calmed themself, Fawkes will check in, apologize, and ask if there was anything he could do to prevent such occurrences from happening while they are in his company.

Jericho:

Fucking hell. We live in the Capital Wasteland. The whole damn place is just one big ass stressful situation. Are they serious?! He’d be confused, and a little pissed off, but if he has a soft spot for anyone, it’s Lone. Dammit. He won’t really know what to do, but he’ll try his best to cover them and keep them from harm’s way as they attempt to calm down and deal with their overload. Afterwards, he’ll gruffly ask if they’re okay, telling them that what they did could’ve gotten them killed, his expression would be a combination of sternness and annoyance, but his body would betray him as it shook in relief at the sight of his companion standing uninjured in front of him. Jericho would nod for the pair to continue on their way impatiently, but his eyes wouldn’t leave Lone as they set off in front of him, concern shining in their depths when he knew no one was there to see it.

#fallout #fallout companions #fallout companions reacts #fallout new vegas companions #fallout new vegas #fonv #fallout arcade #arcade gannon #arcade israel gannon #arcade fonv #benny gecko #fallout benny #benny fonv #craig boone #fallout boone #boone fonv #rose of sharon cassidy #fallout cass #raul tejada #raul fonv #veronica santangelo #veronica fonv #fallout 3 #fallout 3 companions #fo3 #fallout butch #butch deloria #butch fo3 #fallout charon #charon fo3

[hangovercurse]

Nerd Love

After years of working together, Pete still manages to break you.

Request: “Hi! Can I get a Pete imagine where you guys work on SNL together and you have few skits together and during one of them you can’t stop laughing”

Pete Davidson x Reader

Warnings: Cursing

Word Count: 2237

“Live from New York, it’s Saturday night!” You hear Kate and the host of the week announce before Lorne motions that the cameras had cut for commercial break. You and Pete had a sketch together in exactly 12 minutes and 45 seconds, and you were trying to cool your nerves.

You loved your job, writing on SNL was something you had dreamed of since you were in middle school, and now it was your reality. Of course, it was hard, the hours were long and the work was demanding. But having Pete by your side made it all bearable.

You had met on your first day, getting hired one season after him. You two were deemed the “babies” of the cast because you were the youngest, so naturally you got paired up. A lot.

At first it bothered you that you only really ever worked with one person, but after your first few episodes you grew to love Pete. Your energies matched so well, and whenever you wrote together you easily built of each other.

After 6 years of working on the show together, you had become really close friends. You were with him through all of his hard times, and you were one of the few people he let visit him in rehab. In return, he stuck by your side through everything, even when the internet tried to cancel you for an interview that was taken completely out of context.

You couldn’t pinpoint when, but at some point, you had developed real feelings for him. Obviously, you’d never tell him, not wanting to mess up your amazing friendship. But they still flourished, especially when you would be up until 6 am writing sketches and goofing around in the writer’s room. Of course, the comments from fans didn’t help your feelings either. They loved you guys. Anytime you posted Pete on your social media, they were all over it.

But you guys had denied the dating rumors countless times since they’d started 5 years ago. Even though having to hear the words “we’re just friends” over and over killed you.

You were lost in thought when Pete came up behind you, hands grabbing your shoulders and shaking you slightly. “Ready bookworm?” He asked, moving to stand next to you.

“Only if you are, Mr. jock-man.” You laughed, rolling your eyes.

The sketch you and Pete had written was a young couple on a really fancy date to celebrate their 6-month anniversary. Your character was going on the date with Kyle Mooney’s character. Both of you were the stereotypical nerd couple with glasses, suspenders, and everything else. Pete was playing your waiter, who obviously did not give a shit about his job. He was the stereotypical jock character. Your character was super attracted to him and kept paying attention to him. He loved the attention and would do things like show you his (reaaaallllyyy) lame tattoos, tell you about sports, and everything that nerds don’t like. Kyle obviously didn’t like that and kept trying to get your attention in the weirdest of ways.

It was pretty funny in rehearsals, almost too funny. Seeing Pete act so out of character was hilarious to you and having to overdramatically flirt with him felt ridiculous. You barely made it through in rehearsals without laughing, so you had to hope you could do it on stage.

“Y/N, Pete, and Kyle. You’re up.” The stagehand told you, and you grabbed Kyle’s hand, walking to the stage.

The sketch started and you were doing okay. You and Kyle had your conversation about your anniversary and your favorite Star Wars movies. But then Pete walked onto the stage in his ridiculous waiter getup. His white shirt was unbuttoned at the top and wrinkled, his black pants hanging low on his hips, and his apron only half tied. You bit your tongue to keep yourself together.

“Welcome to White Oyster, what do you want?” He said in a very bored voice. You acted interested, eyes raking up and down him. You felt ridiculous and had to swallow a laugh.

Kyle pushed his glasses up on his nose, “me and my girlfriend are here for our six-month anniversary, so we would like the couple’s special.” His nerd voice was incredible.

“Okay. Anything else?” Pete’s voice remained monotone.

You bit your lip, “do you recommend anything else?” You asked, trying to sound nerd-sexy.

You could see Pete struggling to contain a smile. “I mean, whatever. Food here is shitty anyways.”

Kyle’s mouth gaped, “can you not speak like that around my girlfriend, please?”

The sketch continued with you making flirty remarks towards Pete, him being very bored and unaware, and Kyle trying to direct your attention. After your second attempt at flirting with him, you could feel yourself breaking down.

“So, I was wondering. Do you have any tattoos?” You asked him, your elbow on the table, twirling a piece of your hair in your finger.

Pete nodded, pulling up his shirt to show the big MOM tattoo on his side that was drawn on earlier. You felt a giggle slip out, completely out of character.

You tried to cover it up and continue, “wow, you really must love your mom, huh?” Another chuckle leaving your mouth, “that’s kinda hot.”

Kyle looked at you with wide eyes, “Linda!” He screamed the name of your character

Pete shrugged, “Nah, I did it myself. It says WOW, like world of warcraft.”

You couldn’t help the laugh that fell out of your mouth, and one followed from Pete. This was a disaster. You tried to regain your composure, knowing Kyle was probably really frustrated right now. “I just think tattoos are so cool. You don’t have any, do you Darren?” You asked Kyle’s character, eyes narrowing at him. You heard a chuckle from Pete beside you and you bit your cheek.

Kyle faked looking flustered, “N-no. But I have all 7 of the Harry Potter books and 4 collectors wands.”

Pete nodded, “Oh cool, I have a Harry Potter tattoo.” He pulled up his arm to show his real tattoo.

Your eyes went wide, “Wow. That’s way cooler.” You batted your eyes up at Pete, making him break even more. Watching his face go red and his mouth lifting up with laughter made you squeeze your eyes to hide your laughter.

“But babe!” Kyle was starting to break now too. “You love my Harry Potter stuff!”

“It’s cool, I guess.”

The sketch continued with you and Pete laughing anytime you looked at each other, your energies feeding into one another. You both tried really hard to keep it together, but something about flirting with Pete made you so giddy inside that you couldn’t help it.

Eventually the scene ended and the lights went down. You knew the cameras probably caught an extra few seconds after the close of the sketch, meaning they caught you and Pete breaking down into fits of laughter.

You somehow made it offstage, faces red. “We’re so gonna get fired.” He said through giggles.

“I’m so sorry,” You started, trying to take breaths through your laughs. “I don’t know why I couldn’t hold it together.”

“You looked ridiculous.” Pete laughed, pointing at your glasses.

 After the show you made your way back to your dressing room, changing into your day clothes and getting ready to leave. You finally checked your phone, which had been off the duration of the show.

Your twitter feed was filled with clips of you and Pete laughing through the sketch.

They’re so cute together #goals

Love their friendship

Get you someone who looks at you like Pete looks at Y/N

Poor Kyle ☹

The way they can’t get through a skit because they’re too in love

And they say they aren’t dating…

Can’t believe the unprofessionalism

Pete and Y/N are dating… no one can convince me otherwise

The flirting!!! The looks!!!

I would like Pete and Y/N to get married and adopt me please

Your heart melted at all the comments, a sigh leaving your mouth. You watched the video and noticed the way he looked at you anytime you broke character, it was the same way you looked at him all the time.

You shook your head, convincing yourself you were imagining it. You couldn’t afford to think like that, it would ruin your friendship.

A knock at your door pulled you out of your thoughts, “Y/N, wanna go grab a drink with me?” It was Pete.

“You can come in.” You called, and he did so. “I don’t know, I was thinking I might just go home. I’m pretty tired.” You really just wanted to go home and sort through your feelings for the umpteenth time that month.

He nodded, watching as you tossed various items in your bag, “you were great tonight.”

You giggled, “Pete I barely made it through our sketch, it was a disaster.”

He rolled his eyes, walking over to where you were at your vanity. “I messed up too, but it was fine. No one noticed.”

You leaned into the mirror, fixing your makeup slightly. Pete was very close to you, watching you through said mirror. “Trust me, Petey. Everyone noticed.” You laughed, standing up straight again.

Your back was inches from his chest, and you could suddenly feel a different sort of tension in the air. But you didn’t make any move to shift away from him. He gave you a quizzical look through the mirror and you took out your phone, turning to him.

You took in a breath at the proximity. You weren’t close enough to kiss or anything, but his chest was only a few inches away from you. You shook away the thoughts you were having and opened your twitter, letting him scroll through the tweets. He chuckled and shook his head as he read them, eventually handing you your phone back.

“People really like us together.” He said, smiling.

You rolled your eyes, “They have for the past like, 6 years, Petey. We’re funny.” You smiled moving to turn back to grab your bag, but his hand grabbed your hip and made you stay facing him.

Your mind went blank at his touch, trying to figure out if this was real or if you were just really really tired. “That’s not what I meant.” He said, quieter.

You laughed, looking away from his eyes, not really knowing what to say. “I mean, people have always thought… stuff like that.” You mumbled, trying to figure out what the hell was going on.

Pete’s eyes were searching your face, taking in every detail. “Have you ever thought about, like, why people think we’re…” He trailed off, but you knew what he was implying.

You blushed, looking down at your toes. “I mean, I guess we’re together a lot and we get on well. People just like to make assumptions, I guess.”

“Yeah, and I’m sure it doesn’t help that I can never keep my eyes off of you, even when the cameras are rolling.” He said, a chuckle following.

You smiled, looking back up at him, your brain trying to process what he just said. After a few moments of silence, you spit out a “why are you bringing this up?” Your voice was soft, almost a whisper.

He sighed, hand moving from your hip and rubbing his face lightly. “I don’t know, I’ve just been thinking a lot.” You gave him a look that told him to continue. “I mean, I think it’s kind of obvious that I like you.”

Your mouth dropped, “obvious? Pete Davidson you have been far from obvious about your feelings.” You really thought you were dreaming, hearing those words from him was just impossible.

“Are you kidding me? How many sketches do I have to write just so I can flirt with you? Have you not picked up on the fact that literally every sketch I write for you to be in we’re playing some sort of couple?” He laughed, stepping towards you, and grabbing your hips again. “Dude, and I thought I was oblivious to this shit.”

“In my defense I’ve spent the past like 6 years trying to convince myself you didn’t feel the same way.” You said, a smile crossing your face.

Pete rolled his eyes, leaning closer to you, “now why would you wanna do that?” There was a playful tone in his voice, but you couldn’t help your serious answer.

“Because I didn’t wanna read the signs wrong and mess up our friendship.” You sighed.

Pete’s smile softened, “Y/N I literally want to kill you right now for making me wait this long.” You giggled, leaning closer to him. “But you’re cute so I guess I can let it slide.”

“If I kiss you will it make up for it?” You asked, batting your eyelashes.

Pete pretended to think about it, “hmmm, maybe. You should definitely give it a shot to see.”

You rolled your eyes, wrapping your arms around his neck and pulling him into you. Your lips touched his and it was like everything in the universe suddenly aligned. His mouth moved against yours in soft, perfect motions. His hands pulled you closer into him, your bodies molding together like it was meant to be.

When you finally pulled away for breath, he pressed his forehead against yours, a wide grin on his face. “So, about those drinks?”

#pete davidson #pete davidson imagine #pete davidson x reader #pete davidson fluff

[bestintheparsec]

As Does the Snow

Frankie Morales x Reader

Summary: You and your neighbor, Frankie, get snowed in together. 

A/N: I wrote this down when the power was out while I was—you guessed it—snowed in. Nothing too deep/angsty in this (for once), just softness. Thank you for reading and I hope you like it!

Words: 3.5k

Warnings: none, some obvious tropes (snowed in, there was only one bed)

*Masterlist pinned to my page

~

Your phone buzzes in your pocket, prompting you to drop the pile of clothes you’re holding to answer it.

“Hey, Santi,” you answer the familiar friendly voice on the other end.

“You lose power yet?” he asks, slight concern in his tone.

“Just about an hour ago,” you reply, peering out the window. The sun’s still out, so you’ll be okay for a few more hours until it sets.

You’d all been expecting the power to go out, of course. The news has been tracking a seemingly out-of-nowhere snow storm that’s been headed your way, starting its impact a few hours earlier. You hadn’t expected to lose power so soon, though—it usually takes a lot more ice or wind to damage the lines. You’ve been preparing as best as you can for the cold nights ahead. With the lack of heat and power, it was bound to be a long night or two.

“You have everything you need, right?” he asks after a short silence. Santi and the other guys, most of them, live closer to the city and away from the countryside that you'd chosen to live in. With the way the roads are, everyone's been warned not to drive if possible. Not that there’s anywhere to go.

“Yeah, I always do—”

“Listen, I was wondering if you could go stay with Frankie during this whole thing,” he chimes in.

Frankie lives across the street from you—you’ve been good friends with him ever since you moved in years ago, even becoming a part of his group of ex-military friends when he introduced you to them, and you'd fit in like you’d always belonged there. It’s perfectly reasonable that Santi would ask you to go stay with your friend to hunker down during a storm. You would all stay with each other if you could, but seeing as that’s impossible and you and Frankie only have each other right now…yes, completely reasonable.

Fuck, who are you kidding?

What seems like a long time ago, you realized you had feelings for Frankie. And, by some luck—or not—you found out they were reciprocated.

But things don’t always work out the way you want them to; hell, it seems like things never do. At the end of the day, you both had wanted to pursue something more with each other, but life got in the way, just as it often does. You both had a lot going on in your lives back then, things you had to deal with and sort out alone. Ultimately—awkward conversations and deep talks and all—you’d both decided it was best if you simply stayed friends, lest things become overcomplicated.

And so you did. Despite this small history, things haven't really been awkward since then. He’s still a good friend to you, one of your best friends, really, and the subject hasn’t been mentioned again ever since.

Only, you haven’t really moved on. You haven’t been much good at leaving the feelings behind you, either. At first you just kept shoving them away, trying to convince yourself that you felt nothing at all whenever you were with him, nothing except friendly love for one of your best friends. But despite your best attempts not to, you found yourself slowly falling more for him. Being close to him for this long has made it even harder for you to move past it.

Not that you've addressed any of this again.

Had you sorted out the things you were dealing with back then? Maybe. But you’d both decided on what was best, years ago, and given that Frankie hasn’t brought it up again since, it’s likely he wants to keep things that way. Time tends to help some people to move on, where it drives the knife in deeper for others. Frankie’s been on plenty of dates since then, even a relationship or two. So you know you were probably just a momentary interlude in his love life, someone he stopped thinking about in that way long before you could ever even think about moving on. You're nothing more than a good friend to him now. And so you've kept your continued feelings for him to yourself, allowing them to thinly layer your friendship like a light dusting of sugar that’s never quite sweet enough to stand on its own.

But the thought of sheltering with him for a few days? You're not sure if you can keep your feelings contained if you're with him for that long and with that much free time to get lost in your thoughts. But given the seriousness of the storm, you were both bound to end up at one or the other's place, anyways.

You must have been silent for a little too long, because Santi speaks again, breaking your thoughts. “You can watch over each other, that sort of thing. Besides, you know how he can be…” he trails off, waiting for you to answer.

“I—yeah, I’ll go over there,” you finally agree, nodding to yourself. “I was going to check up on him eventually, anyways. I’ll go over as soon as I finish up what I’m doing.”

“Sounds good—let us know if you run into any trouble. We’ll find a way over there if we need to.”

You mutter a quick thanks and remind them to stay safe before hanging up, tossing your phone onto the couch with a resigned sigh. Moments later you pick it up again, quickly sending a text to Frankie to ask him if it’s alright for you both to bunker together for the night. Which he quickly agrees to, of course—you’ve spent many evenings over at his place, or his at yours.

Really, you don’t know why your brain’s suddenly trying to make this weird for you. You’ll bring some snacks and blankets, and it’ll be just like any other Friday night you’ve spent with him. Not weird. There’s nothing there (at least on his end) for you to feel awkward about.

You shake your head and finish your emergency preparations, trying to be done with it before it gets dark so you can head over to Frankie’s.

~

Exhaling deeply first, you ring Frankie’s doorbell.

“Coming!” His deep voice calls from inside.

You shove your hands into your pockets then change your mind, moving them to grip anxiously onto the straps of your backpack. Another few moments pass before you hear Frankie trod to the door. He answers it with a soft smile plastered on his face, the same one he uses every time he greets you. Immediately taking the bag you’re carrying off your arm, he beckons you inside and you follow, shrugging off your backpack.

"Did you need help with anything?" You ask, dropping your bag onto the ground and looking around the darkened place. The windows are covered, there's flashlights and candles out on the table, and a couple cases of water are stacked in the kitchen.

He’s layered up in clothing just like you are—a familiar flannel button-up peeking out from under his jacket. His hair is messy like he’s been running around all day, which he probably has been from the looks of it. If you had to describe it, he looks like...home.

Stop it, you mentally chastise yourself.

“Nah, I’m just making some final tweaks,” he remarks, walking over to pull the living room curtains shut. “The house is warm enough for now, but it won’t be long before it starts feeling like the inside of a fridge in here.”

He turns back to face you with a different sort of smile on his lips, a gentle expression you can’t quite make out.

Unbeknownst to you, Frankie’s been in deep for you, too. He knows you'd both agreed not to date, but over time he's come to greatly regret that decision. It was the right one at the time, but he can't help but wish things had gone a little differently. There’s no one he’d rather be around, and any and all dates he’s been on over the years have failed for the same reason—they’re not you. They could never be you.

Chances come and go, and his has gone. In more ways than one you’re a light in his life, someone he couldn’t ever deserve, and somehow he’s lucky enough to have you in his life at all—even if it’s just as friends. If he’s a better person now, a lot of it’s because you’ve been there to pick up the pieces, the same way he does and will always do for you without a second thought.

But something you can’t help him with is the fact that he’s fallen for you, hard, long after you’d both agreed to just be friends. And he keeps on falling.

He knows people change their mind all the time, but he’s been unwilling and unable to bring it up again with you. For all he knows, that agreement had just been your gentle way of telling him “it’s never going to happen.” He doesn't want to risk scaring you off and losing one of the best people in his life.

Frankie comes back to reality, watching you smooth out the front of your shirt.

“Okay, well, I brought some of my blankets in case we need to pile them up…” you say, pointing to the large bag you brought. “And since your stove is electric, it looks like we’ll be eating snacks for dinner.”

“That’s bold of you to assume,” he retorts, walking over to the kitchen. With a silly gesture, he proudly uncovers a large dish full of one of your favorites.

Frankie is certainly no chef, but he can put together a dish or two, even going out of his way to learn how to make the things that you both love. He puts a hand on his hip, amused by the surprised look on your face. “I made it before the power went out. They did teach us some things about preparation in the military, you know,” he teases, dimple on full display.

“And here I was packing junk food and sandwiches, like a loser,” you jest, grinning back at him. Frankie somehow always manages to make your life a little better. He beams and your chest constricts at the sight.

"Oh, we'll definitely need those for later," he reassures you with a grin. "If the guys were here that'd all be gone before the worst of the storm even hits," he adds, making you laugh.

Some of your favorite nights with Frankie are the ones that are completely uneventful, ones where you relax after a long day of work and binge your favorite snacks while watching some crappy movie on the couch. Then again, it's always the little things that make you happy when it comes to him.

~

Once you've had your dinner you both get comfortable next to each other on the couch, chatting about life and nothing in particular, the way you often do—minus the lack of electricity and a mostly dark room that’s barely lit up by a couple of small camping lights Frankie has. No doubt the other guys would make things a lot more chaotically entertaining if they were all here, but you’re happy it’s just the two of you now—even if it does make it harder for you to think straight at the moment.

Frankie says something that makes you chuckle and you look up at him, noting the delicate smile on his lips and the way it almost balances out the tired lines under his eyes.  He meets your eyes, and if he looks like he wants to say something else, it's probably only in your mind because he doesn't.

The wind outside makes itself known, rattling the windows in its wake. You're suddenly grateful you'd agreed to come and stay with Frankie. Although you’re lucky to have a shelter, these kinds of storms are best when you don't have to ride them out alone.

You also become hyper-aware of how intimate the moments you share with Frankie are. At the end of the day, you're glad he's in your life, even if it's not the way the younger version of you wanted. You still have him and he has you, and that's really more than you could ever ask for.

A chill suddenly makes its way through you.

"Are you shivering?" Frankie stops talking mid-thought to ask you.

"What? No, I—" He cuts you off with a chuckle and shakes his head, reaching down into your bag. With a quick movement he pulls a beanie on over your head, purposely tugging it past your eyes as you laugh and playfully smack his hand away.

"Watch yourself, Morales," you attempt to glare at him as you smooth down your hair, but fail to contain your smile when you see that goofy twinkle in his eyes.

“Alright, alright, I’m sorry,” he concedes and raises his hands in mock surrender. The grin is still on his face as he moves to fix the beanie on your forehead. Another quiet chuckle escapes his lips until his fingers move away from your forehead, accidentally grazing along your cheek.

It’s not the chill that makes you both fall abruptly silent.

It’s almost as if the wind wiped the grins off your faces as Frankie looks into your eyes with an intense gaze. His hand still hovers along your cheek, neither of you seeming able to move. You’re suddenly grateful that it’s impossible for him to hear your heartbeat pounding in your ears right now. Your imagination must be getting the better of you again, because you almost believe that there’s something wistful about the look on his face.

But just like that, he drops his hand and you both avert your eyes.

“It’s, um...getting late,” you break the silence. “We better get settled before it really starts getting cold in here.”

Frankie clears his throat, nodding in agreement and standing to pile some blankets onto the couch.

“What are you doing?” you ask him.

“Um...you know I don’t have the guest room set up. There’s just the bed in my room. You go get cozy, I’ll take the couch.”

"What? I'm not gonna steal your bed, Fr—"

“And I'm not going to have you uncomfortable in my house,” he brushes you off with a wave of the hand. “It's fine, querida, really. You know I've knocked out on this couch more times than I can count." Your chest warms at the sound of his pet name for you. It's harmless, just something he's always called you. But for some reason it makes your face warm to hear it this time.

“No, I mean...isn’t it better if we share? I think the whole point is to keep our bodies warm. It’s easier to do that if we’re in one room.”

He finally meets your eyes again, holding your gaze as though there's more than one thing on his mind, then runs a hand through his disheveled hair.

“I...Are you sure? I really don’t have any problem with—”

You smile softly at him, trying to hide any indication of awkwardness in your tone. “Yes, Frankie, it’s fine. Really. Besides, we can stack all our blankets together this way.”

He smiles back. “I have a big, fluffy one we can use, too.”

~

All the remaining heat in the house has definitely dissipated now, leaving behind a frigid chill. It's bearable for the time being, but leaves your skin covered in goosebumps anytime you expose so much as a sliver of skin to the air. The last time you checked, the snow had already made a significant cushion to the ground outside, and was still going strong.

You've been in bed for an hour or two, huddled into a ball underneath several layers of blankets and refusing to move because it only makes you colder to shift the air around.

Frankie's asleep next to you—you assume he's asleep, anyways. Neither of you have said a word in a while, and with the pattering sounds of snow falling outside, you're getting drowsy yourself. Still, you haven't been able to fall asleep, not even when you jam your eyes shut. It's too cold, for one thing, and for another, it's difficult to ignore the fact that he is right next to you. It's a big bed and there's a decent space between you, but still.

You shift positions yet again, trying to wrap yourself tighter in your section of the blankets. You move to readjust one of the blankets that's gotten pushed away, accidentally bumping Frankie's arm in the process. You grimace, hoping you didn't wake him.

"Your hand is like ice," Frankie's quiet voice suddenly fills the room.

"Oh—Sorry. I thought you were asleep," you mutter back, your voice muffled by the blankets.

"No. It's hard enough for me to sleep even when there's not a historic snowstorm going on." He jokes, though you know it goes deeper than that for him.

Not really knowing how to respond, you remain silent. Rolling onto your side facing away from him, you tuck yourself further into the blankets before resolving to pull them up and over your head entirely.

Frankie's soft laugh rumbles next to you. "Seriously, your skin is frozen," he tells you. “You’re like the opposite of a space heater right now,” he chuckles and you can hear the grin on his face.

You push the blanket off your face, feigning a groan. “Freezing weather and a lack of heat lends to poor circulation, Francisco.”

"I know, I just…maybe it would…it might be warmer if we slept closer together." His voice is so soft that you can’t help but think how nice it would be to fall asleep to the sound of it every night.

When you don’t answer right away he quickly adds, “Or not—I wasn’t trying to...I didn’t mean—Sorry.” Frankie shuffles uncomfortably under the covers.

“No, you’re right,” you murmur hesitantly, barely louder than a whisper. “It...would probably help.”

A beat of silence.

Then you hear Frankie gently move his pillow over towards you, scooting himself in until you can feel his warmth against you. He doesn’t move again at first, you only feel his chest rising and falling against your back. But ever so slowly, he wraps an arm over you, the weight of him sturdy and comforting. You can tell he’s tense—hesitant—until you place your own hand on his, holding him closer to you. Feeling you make yourself comfortable must put him at ease, and he relaxes around you. Neither of you say a word, just lay there sharing each other’s warmth.

You’ve fallen asleep on his shoulder on some late nights on the couch before—things two normal, friendly people do, right? But you’ve never let yourself think too much about it. You can hardly help it now, reveling in the way you feel safe in his arms, fitting perfectly along the curve of his body. You are warmer, although some of it may be because of the way your pulse is just a little bit quickened. You wouldn't mind if you had to stay like this forever.

Frankie quietly exhales, his breath warm against the back of your hair. “Better?” he finally speaks, his voice gravelly and hushed, not much louder than the sound of snow hitting the window.

A pause. “Yeah.”

You feel him relax even more, burying his cheek a little more into the space above your shoulders. “Let’s try to sleep, then, querida.”

And just like that, Frankie Morales manages to make you fall a little bit more in love with him.

It’s then that you realize—it’s always been simple with him. Everything is always...easy with him. Nothing’s overcomplicated or messy; it’s just you and Frankie. It’s what drew you to him first, long ago. It wasn’t the outspoken openness that that others had, nor the confident resolve, but the quiet way he cares for you. The way he manages to always make you laugh, even at the times when it’s almost impossible to. The way he makes you feel so whole that you forget there was ever anything missing in the first place. That’s how he found his way, permanently, into your heart.

For Frankie, it’s always been you. You’re a grounding presence to him, someone who’s made him familiar with peace again over the years.

He lies there listening to the sounds of your breathing, sure that you’re finally fast asleep. He feels sleep coming over himself, too. He knows he’ll sleep a little easier tonight with you. He’ll weather anything when it comes to you. That’s how he knows, and convinces himself that once this storm business is over, he’ll tell you. For now, he lets himself follow you into slumber. His last conscious thoughts are of how he wouldn't mind having you in his arms like this every night, and if it weren't for your warmth lulling him to sleep, he might've confessed to you right then and there.

 ~

Permanent tags: @immundusspiritu @aeryntheofficial @i-like-those-odds @padlilli @hail-doodles @hiscyarika @taman-a @electricprincess888 @max--phillips @myrin1234 @aloneontheoutside @pascalisthepunkest @ah-callie @fleurdemiel145 @katialvi @murdermewithbooks @pisss-offf-ghostt​ @kayebede @lamnothome @fan-g0rl @lokiaddicted @mrsdaamneron​ @poedaneron​ @wolfshifter4life @dindjarindiaries​ @rociomz​ @opheliaelysia​ @dyn-djarin​ @randomness501​ @unsaidsunset​ @hayley-the-comet​ @mrsparknuts​ @exy-issexy​ @palalover​ @forever-rogue​ @adikaofmandalore​ @kaetastic​ @zannemes​ @mstgsmy​ @wille-zarr​ @arabellathorne @f0rever15elf​ @lv7867​ @stilllivindue2spite​ @urbankaite2​

#frankie morales x reader #pedro pascal x reader #frankie morales #pedro pascal #frankie morales x you #triple frontier #my ff

[falcor-thee-luck-dragon]

Love Cuts Deep

Chapter 1- She Ran With Wolves

Bucky Barnes x powered (f)reader Series Re-write (Civil War, Infinity War/Endgame, TFATWS)

Summary: You’re a survivor, always have been and always will be. After narrowly escaping the clutches of Hydra years ago, you’ve been keeping to the shadows for as long as time allows. With Hydra suddenly exposed and your secrets in the open, you’re on the hunt for the last part of your past, but is he ready to see you again?

Warning: angst, talk of violence, some fluff mixed in (a little); way more to come

Masterlist

Side note- This is a TFATWS Series Re-write!!! Obviously lol, anyways. Readers powers are heavily inspired by a certain Marvel badass and I just thought her powers would work so well for this. Also they’re cool as fuck.

September, 15th 2013

Location: S.H.I.E.L.D Headquarters, Washington D.C.

This recent project Fury had sent her on was beginning to make itself quit the annoyance for Natasha this past of couple weeks, granted he always gave her the toughest assignments, understanding that no one else can dig up as much dirt as the Black Widow can.

But this? This was different, the target in question was practically a ghost, a legend among the ones lucky, or possibly unlucky enough to have been made aware of this dangerous individual. But no matter how much she asked around from her various secretive resources on the problem in question, this mystery person was simply just rumor to them. Or perhaps too much of a sour subject to seek into any further. Although one thing was always prevalent, people were scared.

But why?

The assassin leans back in her chair, a thoughtful expression crossing over her features as she stares bitterly down at the top secret file gifted to her by Fury himself. Suddenly a door closes, she shuts the file in an instant, only to be greeted with the apologetic face of Steve as he walks past her.

“Sorry. Fury told me you would be in here.” Begins Steve as he takes the nearby couch, something small and metal in his right hand, “Said you were assigned some impossible case. How’s it going so far?”

Letting out a jaded sigh, she shifts her gaze over to the window, “The absolute vagueness of this person is....frustrating to say the least. All I’ve been able to gather is that they’ve been part of some top secret experimentation on pregnant women. Somehow they’re involved with it....I just, gotta figure out how.” She adds with a conflicted expression dancing across her features.

Steve hums in thought, “Sounds complicated.”

“You have no idea.” Mutters Natasha unenthusiastically as her green irises shift back down to the annoying little file.

Steve palms the object in his hand before gaining his friends attention once again, “Here. Fury told me to give this to you.” Her brows furrow in thought as she reaches over and quickly accepts the strange hard drive looking object, “I think this will help. It has the location of the target and who they are. That’s it.....Well, the last reported location.”

“How did he?” She wonders aloud, face suddenly breaking out into an irked grin, “Fury you son of a bitch, about time I found a legitimate lead.”

——

Sitting on her comfortable apartment couch, Natasha sifts through the various encrypted files from the hard drive that’s currently plugged into her laptop. So far she’s spent about two hours breaking through the various encrypted file blockers and now at long last has finally made some real progress.

Studying the brightly glowing screen, she moves her finger, clicking another coded link that reads -V13X11- she’s immediately greeted with a black screen and the slightly blurred picture of a woman’s face who’s looking rather stoic and fearless against the camera flash. Her eyes are set and hard as stone, dark and almost angry behind lips that show the ghost of a forced smile. She’s noticeably an overall attractive woman, in kind of a terrifying and intimidating sort of way, like looking at a fierce lioness standing valiantly against a foe; nonetheless she stares defiantly at the person behind the camera. 

Her eye color, weight, date of birth, and presumably patient number, that's printed in big bold letters 00X13 on the glowing screen, right below her squared portrait. Furrowing her brows, Natasha scrolls down to see about a paragraph long of personal information given about the woman. Including, to the red heads tremendous surprise, a birth name, Y/N Valerious.

Oddly enough, the name indeed sounds a tad bit familiar, though she can’t quit place from where.

The file states that she was raised in a facility on the outskirts of Surinda, Russia; someplace in Siberia, close to the heart of the mammoth country. Trained by the organization Hydra and summitted into inhuman experimentation by the specific facility that held her, however the rest is all encrypted and impossible to translate into something comprehensible much to Natasha’s utter disappointment. 

Huffing in frustration, she slips out the hard drive before shutting down her laptop and slamming it shut. The room is darker by now with the sun gone, and tomorrow it appears that Natasha will be off to Sweden to confront this woman, Y/N, in hopes of gathering valuable intel into the people who created her, and any important information regarding her troubled past. 

If she’s willing to comply.

——

Closing your laptop, you stand and wander over to the opened window to stretch before taking a deep breath of freshly brisk winter air. The land here in Uppsala, Sweden is more beautiful and peaceful then you could have ever imagined since renting an apartment two months ago. In fact, this is probably the longest you’ve ever stayed in one spot since abandoning the life of an assassin many years ago.

Though you know it won’t be much longer until you leave again, but you can’t just yet, there happens to be a certain agent on her way to find you. Fury unknowingly received your encrypted hard drive with opened arms, foolishly under the impression it was sent from an old friend when he reached out for answers into your complicated history. Then when the Black Widow eventually clicked open your link, bam, you could see everything she was nosily sifting through. Everything you wanted her to see. You honestly wouldn’t be surprised if something dramatic happened to the people over in D.C. at this point, idiots, all of them.

For the past couple years S.H.I.E.L.D has become sort of a troubling snooping nuisance for you, constantly delving their way into your relatively uneventful lifestyle every couple of months, meddling around to figure out if you’re still currently active for Hydra and if not, are you willing to pay for your crimes or to join them like she did. Definitely not on your to do list any time soon.

Watching as a small black bird zips by, you quickly shut your window and close the dark colored curtains to block yourself from the rest of the chaotic world. Hastily making your usual rounds about the apartment to be absolutely certain all the possible openings are locked. Soon after you head for bed, ready to face the ex-assassin whenever she arrives in the following days ahead.

-

Seated at your kitchen table, you casually sip at your steaming hot tea while watching security footage from downstairs from when you hacked into their system, the same night you began renting the place. As expected, the notorious red head slips her way into the building and up the four flights of stairs until finally a light knock is heard at your old wooden door.

So she wants to do this cleanly.

Switching off the device, you stuff it in a nearby drawer before calmly walking down the tiny hallway over to the frontdoor and opening it, lock off and all. Her green eyes blink in curious surprise as you show her no indications of aggression; she’s about your height if not maybe slightly smaller, thick scarf and a winters coat about her person as she holds a normal sized black bag in her right hand. No doubt a gun concealed somewhere close, a light precaution in case things go south from here.

Trailing your wary gaze from her travel bag to her pale face, you raise an intrigued brow, “I assume you’re here for me?” You ask with the tinge of a confident Eastern European accent as she slowly nods, eyes calculated and calm as she studies your mellow yet slightly defensive stance.

Pursing plush lips together, she casually shrugs with a light hearted smile, “I only realized you must have sent that hard drive when I arrived in London...”

“Well I’ve gotten rather bored running away from your persistent bastards over in America.” You interrupt before opening up your door even wider, gifting her an open invitation instead of a fight, “Come in. I assume we have much to discuss.”

Following you to the table, she sets her bag on the closest chair as you take another sip from your tea. Cautious eyes trained on her every move as she shifts a bit uncomfortably in her chair, “So, I assume you’re not here to sell me that pretty bag of yours. Not that I’d want it.”

She smirks at your blunt sarcasm, pleased to know you’ve at least got a sense of humor after all you’ve endured, “No. I’m here to learn about who created you and if there are any more. Y/N, I’m well aware of how dangerous you truly are...but given the fact that you’ve had time to adjust, and let me into your home willingly. I came seeking answers. Nothing more, nothing less.”

Folding your hands together, you tilt your head at her thoughtfully, “Well that’s good. I didn’t really want killing the Black Widow on my conscience, though I’d speculate a few would be relieved.” You quip with a playful smirk before your face turns serious again, “I’ll tell you about the fuckers who made me. Then you leave and never bother me again. Understood?” You add in almost a growl.

Handing you a polite smile, she nods in agreement, “Of course. You have my word.” You take another sip of your tea as she reaches into her bag, a beige file suddenly plants itself atop your kitchen table. “This is the only surviving file on you. It’s enough, but there’s too many cracks that need to be filled. I need to know how they conducted the experiments and who else survived them. This is important for the safety of S.H.I.E.L.D and the rest of the world. Y/N, we’re trying to make sure something like this can never happen again. And well, any secrets on Hydra always helps.”

Setting your cup down, you smirk, “This should be filled with liquor if I’m going to be spilling some top secret Hydra business of this velocity.” You muse, setting aside your mug, your face quickly shifts to a more serious expression. “For starters this isn’t a very heartwarming story.”

“Neither is mine.” Begrudgingly admits the ex-assassin.

“Well, at least we have something in common then, Black Widow.” You assert with a pointed look before leaning back against the barred wood of your chair, thinking of where to start first. Your eyes trail over to the window as you begin your story, “This place, where they kept us. The scientists working for Hydra wanted to test out special DNA altering serums on the embryos of willing participants. Well, we weren’t willing....but they targeted the poor, feigning a program that would pay these mothers-to-be thousands if they participated. Plus a comfortable place to stay for awhile.” You reveal before taking another sip of your tea, “You see, I’m not originally from Russia, my home was some nameless village in Eastern Europe that I’ve forgotten the name of by now, it was so long ago. But anyways, I guess fate has a funny way of administering it’s business to the ones seeking safety in times of struggle. So my mother...” You take another sip of your tea to help clear your throat and head a little bit, God you hate talking about this.

Setting it down again, you continue, “Mine accepted. They took her and twenty-two others to this facility deep in the woods. This place was practically a paradise for them...” You chuckle miserably, “soon enough the scientists pumped them full of drugs and began their altering of the embryos DNA, genetic codes, and whatever else they saw fit to mess with. Nine months later we came into this world kicking and screaming.”

“Shit.” Mutters Natasha in astonishment, fully engrossed in your story as she starts to realize maybe her upbringing wasn’t as fucked as yours.

“They monitored us for the first few months, waiting to see if anyone acted strange....nothing, to their utter disappointment. Soon they drew blood samples and as it turned out, we all had altered DNA from the serum. Just as they’d planned.”

Her brows furrow in puzzlement before she asks, “How’d you get your powers then? I don’t think I missed anything.” Insists your guest questionably as you shake your head.

“You didn’t. But you have to understand that as we grew older, all of us basically became tiny super soldiers as fucked as that is, not only did they change our genetic code for meddling with later on when we got older. But this serum was so well developed that it completely fused with the fetuses genetic code, only causing us to grow stronger as we aged from toddlers to three-year-old's and up. Testing even revealed that it slowed down our ageing process just like with Captain America. But it wouldn’t be effective till we reached our mid to late twenties.”

Natasha takes a moment to process your words before she nods in acknowledgment, “Y/N. It’s my understanding that this is a buried secret from the organization for good reason, it’s just....what year did this all take place? It’s not in any of the records I was able to dig up, not even in yours, nothing except for your date of birth.” States Natasha curiously, stopping you before you speak of anything else.

Nodding you lean your arms against the wooden table, leaning in a bit closer now, “1953, after World War ll when people where still recovering from the heavy aftermath while the Cold War was still raging on when well, you know.” Giving her a lopsided shrug, you glance from an old faded picture on the wall then back to her, “Lets just say Russia wasn’t exactly having a stellar time, nor was my mother for that matter.” You Conclude before aimlessly pursuing your lips together, “Which yes, makes me at around 60 years old. Don’t I look pretty.” You add, voice dripping in sarcasm.

Natasha’s eyes concede silent astonishment as she blinks back surprise, “Even after all these years doing what I do, meeting the people that I have. I’m still left speechless every once in awhile. Y/N I can’t even imagine what you’ve seen.” Reveals the red head honestly as her green irises flicker from your file then back up to you, a conflicted expression dancing across her features, “How did they...how did you gain your powers, aside from what the serum gave you in the process?”

An apprehensive sigh escapes freely from your lips while you lean back into the creaky old chair, a troubled look darkening your features as you avoid her intrigued gaze, “They waited until we were twelve before testing us....in the meantime we lived as normal children; learning, playing, and training to survive. You know, the typical stuff.” You add with a small breathy laugh, though no humor finds your eyes, “We had our mothers until a year before they began the experiments. But it wasn’t that terrible of a loss since they trained us to adapt to our environment and never fully depend on anyone but ourselves.....it’s sick. And I’m not even sure what they did to them, I guess I never will.”

She nods as you make a disgusted face, an acidic hatred rising in your chest at the thought of your childhood, “I’m sorry, I can’t even imagine how traumatic that must have been.”

“Oh believe me, it gets better.” You joke bitterly, “In pairs of two they tested us, putting us into rooms where two doctors would strap us down and stick a needle into our skin. After that, they waited until something dramatic happened. Oh, and it sure as fuck did.” You conclude with a sneer.

Biting her lip anxiously, Natasha asks anyway, “How many survivors?”

Scoffing, you shake your head in revulsion for what those doctors did to everyone, an angry expression soon crossing your features, “One.” You sourly mutter, “All my other friends died of the new serum they gave us, either right then and there on the table, or in the following days. You see, it was supposed to blend with our altered DNA to create something powerful out of it, something beyond humans normal capabilities. It just ended up horribly mutating everyone except for me.” You whisper, clear sadness and hatred coating your very words.

Your eyes stare sharply at the peeling table top paint, a frown on your lips as you take in a deep breath before continuing, “What they did to me....no one should have to go through something so goddamn agonizing, I was only a child, just a little girl in a terrible place whether I knew it or not....and you know how it affected me?” She slowly shakes her head no as you smile miserably, your brows furrowed in pain, “I was gifted with bone claws that retracted out of my knuckles and one from each of my feet.” You confirm, eyes suddenly darkening in fury, “And you know what those goddamn bastards did to me afterwards? Like I hadn’t suffered enough from the pain of it all, they pumped me full of liquid Adamantium. Turning my claws to solid metal, the fucking strongest material on earth. Right in the body of an eleven year old child!” You shout furiously as she flinches back at your outburst, blinking hard, you let out a heavy breath before leaning back into your chair in defeat.

Calm down, Y/N. It’s just a memory now.

Strong brows dent her clear skin in thought as you await a response, after a few long moments does she soon gather her racing mind, lacing her fingers together she raises a brow at you, “That doesn’t explain how you’ve survived so long. The years working for Hydra, they turned you into a weapon....yet you’ve escaped and haven’t been killed yet. Not even a scratch to be found.....well, at least that I can see.”

Turning to face the puzzled assassin, you give her a lopsided grin, your chill composure coming back to you quickly enough, “I didn’t just get claws from the enhanced serum that fucked with my genetic make-up, it completely heightened my humanly abilities. Suddenly I was stronger, faster, and all my senses felt like they were on overload. Best of it all, I came to realize I had accelerated healing capabilities. Who would have thought that their shitty inhuman experiments would have gone so horrendously, yet with the one miracle of an exception. Me.”

“I had figured that branch of Hydra was meddling on dangerous ground, I hadn’t realized the extent of what they were doing. Did they try making any more like you?” She wonders.

“I was the last. Since I was the only compatible vessel, they didn’t want to waste anymore time or money on others who could possibly fail.” You explain with a shrug, “I became one of their most treasured assets.”

Pursing her lips together, she gives a slight nod before revealing a different file from her bag, you watch as she pauses for a moment before opening it up, you quickly take notice of the many white papers pinned together. Some with encrypted symbols and words while others are in plain English. Your brows furrow as she flips the first page to reveal...

“I know I came asking for answers about classified information, but this won’t be a complete mission if I don’t ask you about your time with Hydra.” Proposes the red head cautiously while she studies your face for any hostile reactions, not getting anything but skepticism, she continues, “I understand you were very important to them. It’s recorded you’ve completed about three dozen kills over an active period of about thirty-seven years.”

You scoff before muttering, “So it would seem. They gave me my first mission in 1971...when I was 17.”

“Right, but that’s not exactly what I’m seeking.” Her eyes immediately trail down to the files, “I assume you must have seen this man at least once...” She flips another page over and pulls out a playing card sized photograph, she turns it around and slides it closer to you. Instantly you recognize who he is, but how did she?..

“I haven’t seen him in years, nor heard of him for that matter.” You mutter, though your tone shifts to a more aggravated one.

Noticing this difference, Natasha continues, “That’s the look of someone who has met him for less then friendly reasons. What happened to the Winter Soldier?” You take a long moment to study his stoic face of icy blue and white, and black; its when he was in the Cryostacis chamber, the place where they would freeze him to keep their Winter Soldier locked away until he was needed for a new mission. All that you can fully witness is his sleeping face, though you know exactly what he looks like up close and with no ice crystals in his dark hair.

Letting out a heavy sigh, you slide the photograph back over to her folder, “I met him when I was 25 in 1979, Hydra needed us for a duel mission somewhere in South Africa, they needed their best. We were tasked with locating and stealing some precious metal which we later learned was Vibranium, because apparently they had used the last of the Adamantium on me.” You reveal with a casual shrug, “It went relatively well as expected...and well, we worked with each other many times after that, until I escaped and he was sent to kill me in 2009.”

“You knew him for almost twenty-nine years. Do you know where he might be now?”

Scoffing, you almost laugh, “Even if I did, you’d never get him. But if I’d have to assume, he’s probably frozen in some cryo tank somewhere in the middle of Russia. Waiting to be let loose again so he can take out a new enemy of the state.”

“Right.” Nods the Black Widow as she closes up her files, her green irises quickly on you again, “Thank you for your time, and for the heavy material you spoke of.”

“It was a long time ago, someone else should remember what those fuckers did to innocent mothers and their children. No one in this entire world knows except for me, you, and the doctors I haven’t killed yet.” You growl with venom lacing your every word.

Soon you watch as she swiftly rises to her feet, as you do the same, “I wish you well then.” Affirms the Black Widow as you follow her lead to the door, she stands on the other side for a moment before asking, “Is there any way I could find you again?”

Leaning against the door frame, you break out into a knowing smirk as she stands waiting expectantly, “If you’re lucky, you’ll never see me again. Goodbye agent Romanoff.” And with that do you gently close the door, leaving her in the hallway with a plethora of useful information, but still nothing significantly useful on the Winter Soldier, now only time will tell if he ever happens to show up on her radar again. Hopefully not, she thinks doubtfully before turning on her heels and sauntering off down the hallway.

——

Almost two whole years had passed since last you’ve spoken to the assassin, in that time you’ve watched her speak on live television when Hydra had finally been exposed to the world and all their secrets let loose for the prying hungry eyes of the public.

Even some of your own information had been leaked, the world knew who you were now, what atrocities you’ve committed for the organization during your time with them and that you’ve been M.I.A since 2009. Now you’re on an international watchlist. Fantastic. Apparently some very important leaders of the world and other prestige family members alike aren’t very fond of yourself for murdering their adversaries or filthy rich husbands. 

But it’s not like you had a choice, Hydra would always alter your memories when they shocked you into forgetting who you even were; thus you’d complete a mission and a couple days or so later would your mind stitch itself back together again the best it could from the electrical trauma. Only the killing part would be a dark and fuzzy memory, thus revealing itself to you in bits and pieces at a time. Soon everything blurred together and you just complied or face getting electrocuted multiple times a session, until your eyes remained empty and dangerous.

Considering you’ve been on the run since that information was released, in this time, you’ve tracked down past agents and doctors alike who had wronged you, considering you now had full access to their recent history. Hence increasing your body count as you went from one country to the next, making the world a tad bit lighter with their darkness whipped from existence.

Although soon enough you became unsettled with the loads of information expunged from Hydra, your mind inevitably making a one eighty back to a certain broody super soldier from your complicated past. He must be in the world somewhere, living as a secret civilian or whatnot. He has to be. And you’ve decided to find him before someone else does.

Maybe it was curiosity, or the fact that he was like you and shared a bloody history with Hydra, but your instinctual drive to find the Winter Soldier eventually drew you the beautiful city of Bucharest, Romania. Although he didn’t make finding him effortless in the slightest, after endless days hacking into network databases looking for even a snippet of information. You found a lead.

Turns out airport security footage is very useful, even more so, footage from around the city’s grant center; and from there you were able to track him to Romania. Eventually after a couple of days in the city, you were able to catch a glimpse of him at the local market place and thus followed him to his little shitty apartment without him as so much as noticing.

Once he left again, you slipped inside and began your wait for his eventual return. But will he even want to speak with you? Does he even remember you? Your memories hadn’t been continuously whipped like his were, granted you were forced into cryo more then once and electroshocked into forgetting your memories. It eventfully stopped once they realized your mind would just heal itself into remembering again, so instead they threatened you with a tracking device deep into your skin tissue that would blow up if you tried to run.

Clearly you eventually found a way around this, as terrible of a memory it gave you.

——

Looking out the window, your ears suddenly pick up the sound of boots stealthily walking down the hallway, they’re incredibly light against the tiles outside, perhaps he somehow knows you’ve been following him. A moment later the scent of a man fills your nostrils and you know he’s inside the apartment. You could barely hear the door.

He’s silent as a mouse, nothing indicating he’s even there except for his rapidly thudding heartbeat that pounds anxiously against his strong chest; you slowly turn to face him. His hat from earlier is gone, dark blue eyes stare warily on you while soft breaths emit from his slightly parted lips. He’s not afraid, but he is nervous.

Folding your arms over your chest, you take a glance around the room, “Nice place.” You confirm casually, eyes back on the Winter Soldier in a second as the corner of your lips pull into a humored half grin, “I’m not here to complete some personal Vendetta against you, if that’s what you’re thinking.”

“Then why are you here?” His voice is more curious then cold, maybe he can be reasoned with after all.

Taking a step forward, you shrug, “Wanted to make sure you aren’t still on their side.”

He keeps silent for a moment as you watch him watch you, “I’m done with them.” Mutters Bucky, disgust dripping off his words. That’s exactly what you wanted to hear. Progress.

“Good.” You add with the tiniest of smiles before motioning towards his little kitchen table, “Mind if we sit and talk? As, well...I guess civilians now.”

Studying your face for any indication of falseness and hostility, he’s pleasantly surprised when he finds none. Bucky takes off both of his gloves and sits, metal hand shinning in the low lighting. A threat or a precaution? Maybe he just wants it off?

You follow his example, and soon the two of you sit not even three feet away from each other. Both yourself and Bucky hold an awkward silence for a long moment as the tension in the room rises, shifting your gaze from the counter behind him, you don’t really notice as he trails his eyes over your face, “I remember you.” Reveals Bucky to your great surprise, your eyes falling onto him in an instant, “They sent us on missions together, until you left and they woke me up to kill you for it.”

Smiling, you let out a humored breath of air, “Turns out you didn’t miss me after all. I gave you a nice scar for your troubles though, you still have it?”

Bucky purses his lips into the tiniest of shadowy grins, although no real joy is shown, “It’s a thin little line across my left rib cage. Just barely reached my bone.” Yeah, and I would have if you didn’t punch me in the eye socket first, you think to yourself from when the Winter Soldier had tracked you down. But that’s a long story.

“Glad it’s healed and they didn’t have you come after me a second time. I don’t think I would have let you live again.”

He thinks hard for a second as he processes your words, “You let me live? The first time?”

“Well,” You serenely admit, “I couldn’t exactly kill you...I guess, well....I don’t really know why I didn’t kill you when I had the chance. Guess I’m not as ruthless as Hydra wanted.” You mumble with a conflicted frown, the two of you keep silent before you break the odd tension, “Doesn’t matter now. I heard about what happened in D.C. just like the rest of the world. Gotta say, I was wondering what everyone over there had been getting themselves into.”

“They leaked everything.” Mumbles Bucky with a knowing flash of insight within his dark restless eyes.

“I know.” You add with a slow nod, “I’ve been traveling more cautiously for the past year and a half now. You’d think they’d let us live in peace, of course not. But I guess it means the world knows what a piece of shit organization Hydra is. So that’s something.”

“Yes.” Agrees Bucky, eyes trailing from your fingerless gloves to your face, of course he remembers what hides beneath, “What happened to you since you left?

Fumbling with your fingers as they lay against his table, you turn you head to the window, the ghost of a smile dancing across your lips, “Surviving. You?”

He shifts his gaze back down to his metal hand as you turn to face him, “About the same I’d say.”

Leaning back against your creaky wooden chair, you hand him a small yet friendly smile, “Well then. What of us now? Two ex-assassins alone in the world. With nothing but our wit and fists to keep us afloat.” You add with a low chuckle, he doesn’t crack.

Losing your smile, the two of you keep silent as ghosts for a long moment before Bucky shifts uncomfortably in his seat, “I got some tea.” Replies the admittedly handsome man now since you have a moment to really look; the briefest hint of a grin revealing itself against his lips for only but a flash of a second. But you still see it.

Fumbling with your fingers you give him a pursed lip grin, “I like tea.”

#bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x y/n #bucky barnes x you #the winter soldier x reader #the winter soldier x y/n #the winter soldier #marvel imagine #marvel x you #marvel x reader #marvel x y/n #series rewrite #bucky barnes #tfatws

[iam93percentstardust]

Hey, I hope you're had a very pleasant birthday and birthday month! If the prompte are still open: Can you do Stony with Tony finally and sorta randomly confessing his love to Steve and Steve only then realizing that what he feels for Tony is romantic love as well?

Hello! Sure thing! Quick note: there’s a change between present and past tense for a flashback, for anyone who doesn’t like that kind of thing

As always, everything I write is also on ao3

~

“I love you,” Tony says, and Steve doesn’t quite know what to do about that.

He won’t say that he’s thought about it before because he hasn’t. But he won’t say that he’s never thought about it either—because he has, occasionally, glanced at Tony’s ass outlined by his perfectly tailored pants and appreciated the sight, and he has, once or twice, wondered what Tony’s warm, sparkling eyes would look like when hazy with pleasure. But a quick, glancing thought that he immediately moves on from is not the same as being attracted enough to Tony to think about asking him out or anything past that.

And now that he’s faced with that question, he doesn’t know what to say. Is he supposed to thank Tony? Is he supposed to acknowledge his feelings and say that he doesn’t feel the same way? Is he just supposed to ignore what Tony said? This is why he has so much trouble with his dates—he never knows how to act in a way that isn’t awkward. No wonder Natasha recently declared him hopeless after he came back from his last date covered in her sticky drink because he accidentally called her a dame.

“I love you,” Tony says and Steve doesn’t know what to do about that, but as it turns out, he doesn’t have to do anything, because Tony nods immediately afterward, says, “Good talk,” and turns and walks away like he wasn’t expecting an answer—or at least, not one that he would like.

Steve doesn’t know what to do about that either.

~

“Do you think I’m in love with Tony?” he asks Natasha later that day when they’re relaxing on the couch while some mindless sitcom plays in the background.

Natasha blinks at him and then caps the nail polish she was using and puts it on the coffee table. “Do you think you’re in love with Tony?” she asks carefully.

He frowns at her. “That’s not what I asked.”

“Yeah, I’m not sure I should just tell you what to think.”

He sighs and takes another sip from his Coke, only to realize that it’s empty. Yeah, that describes his life pretty well. “I’m gonna get another one,” he says, standing up. “Do you want something?”

She shakes her head. It’s not until he’s in the kitchen, grabbing another Coke from the fridge, before she asks, “What brought this on?”

Steve thinks about the vulnerable look on Tony’s face as he said those three words. He probably wouldn’t like it if Steve told Natasha what they’d discussed. Or, well, he’d probably act like it was fine but he’d secretly feel hurt and might put the workshop into blackout mode again. Steve hates it when the workshop is in blackout mode. He doesn’t like that he can’t get to Tony when he’s feeling so terrible that he has to shut himself away. He wants to be there to support him, and he hates it when he’s the one who makes Tony feel like he has to close off the workshop.

“Nothing,” he tells Natasha.

She gets up to come into the kitchen, where she eyes him for a moment and then declares, “Tony finally told you, didn’t he?”

How does she always know?

“How do you always know?”

She smiles enigmatically. “I always know,” she says in that mysterious tone.

Steve glares at her. “Tony told you, didn’t he?”

“Maybe he did and maybe he didn’t.”

“One of these days, you’re going to have to admit that you two are friends.”

“Hmm,” she agrees. “But not today.” She hesitates, watching as Steve starts preparing a ham sandwich. “So Tony told you he loves you and you said?”

“Nothing,” Steve says with a shrug. “JARVIS, do you think it would be a good idea if I took this to Tony?”

“Sir has not expressed an explicit desire to keep you out of the workshop but I believe he would not appreciate you down there at the moment.”

Steve sighs. “Great. Could you send U up here to bring this sandwich down?”

“Of course, Captain Rogers.”

With that taken care of, Steve turns back to Natasha, following her back out to the living room. “I didn’t say anything because Tony didn’t give me the chance. He just took off.”

Natasha is quiet, studying him for a long moment. He knows what she’s thinking, since it’s probably the same thing he thought: that Tony was too afraid to hear the answer to give Steve the chance to respond. Eventually, she asks, “So how do you feel about it?”

“I don’t know,” Steve says honestly. “I can’t say I’ve ever thought about Tony like that before but—we act kinda coupley, don’t we?”

Before Natasha can respond, the previously bright sky outside goes dark. There’s a bright lightning bolt right outside the window, followed by the crash of thunder and then a loud rushing sound. It dissipates after a moment, the sky lightening again.

“Captain Rogers, Agent Romanoff,” JARVIS says, “Thor has returned to the tower.”

~

The Steve and Tony story goes something like this: instead of going on his planned road trip, Steve returned to the tower the day after the Chitauri invasion to offer his apologies to Tony about what he said on the helicarrier. Somehow—and he’s not sure how, even to this day—he found himself getting wrapped up in the tower repairs with a room of his own on one of the lower floors. And by the time those were done, Tony had apparently also redone some of the apartments near the penthouse as a headquarters for the Avengers. Steve hadn’t been lacking for options after the battle (the Army, in particular, wanted him back) but he’d moved into the tower permanently instead.

He and Tony had clashed a few times in those early days but once Bruce came back from wrapping up his affairs in India and Natasha and Clint left SHIELD to join them, they settled into a bit of a truce.

And over the semi-regular movie nights and the training spars and the late-night conversations after they both couldn’t sleep, that truce became a friendship and before Steve quite realized it, Tony had become one of his best friends. Slowly, Steve found himself being pulled out of the shell he’d withdrawn into after waking in this new century. Tony dragged him to lunch at new and exciting places, places that Steve could never have even dreamed of when he was growing up. They planned missions and training days together. Steve had even gotten adept enough at handling the press with Tony to feel confident accepting interview requests with him.

He hadn’t realized though that Tony had taken it as something more serious though. And now that he does know, he’s not sure what to do about it.

~

He eventually goes to Bruce, since Pepper is busy dealing with a business merger and Colonel Rhodes is out of town in some undisclosed location (though Steve is certain that Tony knows where). Bruce’s lab isn’t quite the wonderland of light and holograms that Tony’s is, but it’s still impressive to someone who grew up with nothing. Tony makes sure that Bruce has all the latest equipment so the lab is a gleaming marvel of sleek instruments with silver and white colors everywhere. It doesn’t look like the most soothing environment but the speakers pipe out some sort of piano music that Steve vaguely recognizes and there’s a teapot on one counter, keeping whatever Bruce is drinking warm.

Bruce is currently examining something under a microscope. Steve can make out what looks like a purple smear on the slide from where he’s standing in the doorway, but that’s it. Bruce doesn’t seem to have noticed him yet, even though JARVIS announced him, so he waits patiently until Bruce has rolled away from the microscope.

“Bruce, you got a second?” he asks quietly.

“Hey, when did you get here?” Bruce asks, offering him a tired smile. He waves Steve over to the teapot and offers him a cup.

“Just a couple minutes ago. I didn’t mind waiting,” Steve assures him. “What’s the blend?”

“Lavender and chocolate.”

“Sure, I wouldn’t mind a cup.” Bruce hands him the steaming mug. Steve has to add the sugar himself (only Tony knows how he prefers his tea).

“What brings you to my lab? Tony’s downstairs today,” Bruce says, fixing a cup of his own.

“I’m not looking for Tony. Not yet anyway,” Steve corrects. “I did want to talk about him though.” He hesitates and then decides to take the plunge. “Has Tony ever said anything to you about—ah—”

“About his feelings?” Bruce asks knowledgeably. “It’s come up a few times.”

Steve takes that to mean that it’s come up fairly frequently. Tony does like to overshare sometimes and trying to figure out what he’ll overshare about and what he’ll clam up about is about as accurate as trying to make one of Clint’s trick shots. “He told me today,” he begins carefully. “But he didn’t let me say anything.”

“Well, he wouldn’t,” Bruce says, like that’s perfectly reasonable and not absolutely surprising to Steve. He must see the confusion in Steve’s face because he adds, “He only just figured it out a few days ago himself, even though he’s been talking about you for months. I don’t think he was expecting you to feel the same way as him right after he realized it.”

“But why would he say it then?”

Bruce takes off his glasses, holding them in front of him as he thinks. “Tony—he’s got a weird relationship with love. He told me once that he thought he’d lost the chance to tell Pepper he loved her, first in Afghanistan and then with the palladium poisoning.”

“His parents,” Steve realizes. “He didn’t get to tell them either.”

“Exactly,” Bruce says, pointing at him with the glasses. “He doesn’t like to wait. So even though he knows you don’t feel the same way, he felt it was important to tell you.”

“What, in case I die tomorrow?”

“Or if he does.” Bruce must catch the stricken expression on Steve’s face as he smiles gently. “It’s not just about getting the feeling off his chest for Tony. It’s about making sure that you know you’re loved too.”

“Oh,” Steve says softly.

~

Normally, he would go down to the workshop to think about something that’s puzzling him but he doesn’t want to bother Tony right now. Instead, he goes to his second-favorite room in the entire tower: the library. The library was designed specifically by Tony for Steve after he mentioned how much he liked the tablet Tony had given him but how he missed paper books too. He hadn’t been angling for a library out of the conversation but Tony, generous to a fault, had immediately gotten to work on one.

It’s a beautiful room, completely incongruous with the sleek modern style of the rest of the tower, but perfect despite that. It takes up an entire two floors of the tower with balconies, a spiral staircase, and several sliding ladders for Clint to reenact a scene from some movie that Steve hasn’t gotten around to watching yet. Tony had done the room in dark wood with enough windows to make it feel light and airy instead of cramped. There are little nooks hidden among the shelves and a few window seats for anyone who wants to gaze out over the New York skyline while they read.

It’s perfect, made all the more so because Tony designed it for him.

“Steve, you should have realized how Tony felt sooner,” he mutters to himself as he settles on one of the cushy armchairs with his sketchbook. But how could he have? According to Bruce, Tony hadn’t even known how he felt until a few days ago.

He sketches as he thinks, no subject in mind until he looks down to find that he’s roughly sketched out Tony at his workbench, arguing with DUM-E over something silly. Steve smiles fondly down at the drawing, rubbing his thumb over the curve of Tony’s cheek. He remembers this argument. It had been a couple weeks ago. Tony had asked DUM-E to bring him a wrench and instead, DUM-E had brought him two screwdrivers, three hammers, and a level before finally bringing the wrench. It had made Steve laugh, which had just encouraged DUM-E. Tony had acted frustrated but he knows Tony well enough to know that Tony had been secretly proud about DUM-E’s personality, both for DUM-E and for himself. After all, as Tony said, any monkey could design an AI. It took skill to design one with character.

In his sketch, he’s drawn something of that conflict in Tony’s face—the frustration in the downward turn of his mouth but the pride in the twinkle in his eyes—and it only makes him more beautiful.

“Beautiful,” Steve repeats, awed at the thought. Tony is beautiful, when he’s tinkering, when he’s flying, even when he’s going toe-to-toe with Steve over something stupid (usually Tony’s self-sacrificial tendencies).

He flips through the book, taking in each drawing: Natasha, Tony, Clint, Thor, Tony, Bruce, Tony, Tony, Tony. “Yeah,” he murmurs, looking back down at the drawing he just finished again. He thinks he’s got it figured out.

He stands, tucking his sketchbook under his arm. “JARVIS, do you think Tony would mind talking to me now? I’ve got something important to tell him.”

JARVIS is quiet for a moment, then says, “Sir would be happy to see you.”

He makes his way downstairs, thinking about what he’s going to say, but as soon as he sees Tony—wonderful, beautiful, perfect Tony—playing with one of those incredible holograms he designed, the words fly from his mind and he blurts out, “I’m not in love with you.”

And then he winces. Yeah, okay, so he’s a bit of a disaster.

Tony looks hurt for a moment, but it’s quickly covered up with dramatic offense. Before Tony can make one of his infamous quips that’ll just make light of the situation, Steve crosses the workshop and pulls Tony’s hands into his, rubbing them gently with his thumbs.

“I’m not in love with you,” he repeats. “But I think I could be soon. I’m not where you’re at yet—my brain isn’t nearly as quick as yours, Tony, of course you’re a step ahead of me here too. But Tony, you’re on almost every single page of my sketchbook. We go on what we might as well call dates together. We talk for hours. I know you almost as well as I know myself. I’m not in love with you yet but I think I’m only a couple dates away from it, so you should take me out, and we’ll see how fast I can catch up.”

Tony is smiling by the end of his little speech. “How are you always so good at that?” he asks.

“I was born like this,” Steve says seriously, only to crack a grin when Tony laughs.

“No you weren’t,” Tony argues. “You were born small and spiteful.”

“And full of good speeches. But no one wanted to listen to a little guy like me so I had to bottle them up to use on you.” He pauses and looks down at Tony. “Um, not to pressure you, but does a date sound good?”

Tony thinks about it for a moment. “Depends. Where are you going to take me?”

“Oh, am I taking you? You’re the billionaire, shouldn’t you be treating me?”

Tony’s eyes darken as he purrs, “Only if you’re very nice.”

Steve shivers. He hadn’t really thought about how it would feel to have the full Tony Stark Seduction TechniqueTM turned on him, but he’s thinking about it now and it is absolutely delightful. “What if I’m not nice at all?” he whispers, hands tightening on Tony’s.

Tony’s smile turns downright filthy and he leans up to brush a kiss over Steve’s cheek. “Hmm, I’ll think of something,” he murmurs into Steve’s ear.

He’s not going to act like a caveman and take Tony to bed. He’s not. He’s going to—“Sal’s!” he blurts out, immediately regretting it when Tony takes a step away, brow wrinkling confusedly. It’s really cute. Steve wants to kiss it away.

“What?”

“Sal’s,” Steve says again. “Best burgers in Brooklyn. I want to take you there.”

Tony smiles again. “Sounds like a date.”

#alle writes #stevetony #alle answers #if you like please consider reblogging #Anonymous