#but then i was tryin to sleep so i was like 'ok brain no more alternate universes'

[lakesbian]

Ok I might be reaching here because I'm not an Alec expert

But is Lonely Beuys by man man an Alec song?

i'm afraid not the title may be lonely boys but the lyrics are not even tangentially related. this other song 'head on' by the same band i listened to after seeing the name on lonely beuys' genius page IS a blake song though. to me.

There's a knock at your door You don't even recognize the stranger It's you from before Tryin' to warn you all about the dangers There's a hole in your head At least that's what everybody's guessing It's why you're always misread It's why you sleep but you never feel rested You never get your rest in Hold on to your heart Hold it high above flood waters Hold on to your heart Never let nobody drag it under Hold on to your heart Even when your body's bitter Hold on to your heart Never let nobody take it over Ever take it over Ever take it over from you There's a call on the phone You don't even recognize the number It's an old episode Of trying to put the lightning on the monster Of the life you have led That is always a mess Are you dreaming of death? Are there ghosts in your chest? Are you always so restless? Yes you are Is that hard? Hold on to your heart Hold it high above flood waters Hold on to your heart Never let nobody drag it under Hold on to your heart Even when the whole world's bitter Hold on to your heart Never let nobody take it over Ever take it over Ever take it over Ever take it over Ever take it over Ever take it over from you Is it all a game? But bait and switch your brains And follow your leaders to hell Is it all the same vein of insane As drinking from a poisoned well? And I need new skin for this old skeleton of mine 'Cause this one that I'm in has let me down once again over time And I need new skin for this old skeleton of mine 'Cause this one that I'm in has let me down once again over time Hold on to your heart Hold it high above flood waters Hold on to your heart Never let nobody drag it under Hold on to your heart Even when the whole world's bitter Hold on to your heart Never let nobody take it over Ever take it over Ever take it over Ever take it over Ever take it over Ever take it over from you

like can you guys see what i mean. can you envision a pact animatic to this where the 'hold onto your heart' bits are connected to scenes of blake very fervently wanting to hold onto his identity & become increasingly ironic as it slips from his grasp and he eventually literally has his heart torn out. can you also envision the first few lines playing over rose telling blake to run. the hole in his head (the emptiness left from PMT's destruction). at least that's what everybody's guessing (the people who want him dead know more about him than he does). he's always misread (scenes of the Thorburn Bad Karma kicking in). he never gets his rest in (self explanatory). follow your leaders to hell drinking from a poisoned well the themes of handed-down family dysfunctions and misery etc etc. the bit about not recognizing the number being tied to some of the post-ur scenes. he is dreaming of death! there are ghosts in his chest! he's always so restless. wait can we get the last anon i just answered who wanted to know about blake thorburn songs on the line ithink i'm onto something here

#ask #pact time #pact ask #<- it is now

[hyunjilicious]

a helping hand [henry cavill] - part 3

A/n: I know it took me ages, and I'm sorry, but it's finally here!! I don't know when part 4 will be up, but I know the plot, and by the time you finish reading this, you'll know it too!! Filth is coming. Also, since I posted the first 2 parts weeks ago, under the cut you'll find a small summary of what happened so far! Ofc, I'm linking the previous parts as well! Have fun reading, sorry for taking me so long, and please, don't hesitate to tell me what you thought! (I’ll reblog it with the taglist, otherwise it doesn’t show up in the tags!)

Summary: after Henry lost it during a fit of jealousy, he sneaked into your apartment, his actions having some very different repercussions from what he initially intended. SMUT 3.9k

Warnings: please be over 18!!! mentions of smut, masturbation (male receiving), sightly/some somnophilia, stalker-ish/obsessed Henry, cum play if you squint and ofc, mentions of filming and sharing pornographic material. 18+ please!!!!

You can find part 1 here and part 2 here!

Quick recap: Henry's crush on his very sweet and younger neighbour (you lol) grew into something else when you asked him for help with taking some pictures for your onlyfans account. Following this, your relationship reached a very teasing level, which prompted Henry to take matters into his own hands, even if that meant crossing some lines. So when he found out that you and a specific man from your past were on a voice call, he just had to know what exactly was being discussed. This jealousy fit had him using his spare key to enter your apartment and eavesdrop, and this is where chapter 2 ends. Have fun reading the next part!!!

“No” you sighed, waving your arms around, desperate to get your point across. But it was mostly useless, nothing even remotely decent would ever manage to penetrate Steve’s thick skull. He was a dumbass with a heart of gold, so you couldn’t even blame him for messing things up on purpose, you just learned the hard way not to take his advice under any circumstance. “No, Steve. I won’t do that. Not a chance!”

“Hun-” he scoffed, rolling his eyes as a smirk showed up on his lips, “When have I ever been wrong?”

“Really!?” you giggled and then sighed, “Listen, I gotta go to the bathroom and you’d better forget about this topic by the time I come back”

“Wait, wait. Ok, fine. Scratch that” Steve laughed, stopping you from getting up, “When have I ever been wrong on purpose?”

“Listen, I know you’re just trying to help” you smiled, “But I don’t think your experience in seducing girls with daddy issues benefits my situation in any kind of way”

“‘Course it does! I can give you some perspective!”

“Perspective on what?” you mocked, playfully frowning at him through the screen on your laptop, “You and Henry have nothing in common”

“The dick for one” Steve joked but when he saw you roll your eyes, he became serious, “I’m just tryin to help you hook up with the guy! That’s all”

“See!?” you laughed, already exasperated by the conversation, “I’m not trying to hook up with him, I want something more…”

Your sentence was cut short by the sound of a door closing. Your blood ran cold and your hands froze, eyes staring blankly into the camera.

“Y/n?” Steve asked with worry, “What’s wrong?”

“Wait here” you mumbled, pushing the laptop off of you and rushing to the door of your bedroom. You pressed your ear against it, and listened closely, the sound of a lock being turned chilling you to your bones. With shaky hands, you stumbled your way back to your bed, and looked into the camera, directly at a somewhat already worried Steve. “I gotta go-”

“Wait-” Steve tried to ask, “Are you-”

“Yeah, I’m fine, talk to you later” you hurriedly mumbled before ending the call. Your fingers flew across the screen of your phone, finding Henry’s name and pressing the green button in the blink of an eye.

And had he not been this utterly stupid and reckless, none of this would have happened. His impulsivity got the best of him, and panic rushed through his veins when he heard you were about to head to the bathroom. Pressure did him no good, and the first thing that came to mind at that point was to bolt out of there, knowing there was absolutely no way to explain what he was doing in your apartment. But his shaky hands were of no help, and the dexterity he earlier proved himself capable of was nowhere to be found. However, he didn’t care. He just stormed out, happy to finally breathe again as soon as he was out of your apartment - but when his phone vibrated in his pocket, he felt like dying all over again.

With your heart beating inside your throat, you grabbed your bedside lamp into your free hand, and curled yourself into a ball in the corner of your room, opposite to the door, the sound of the ongoing call being the only thing you heard over the loud buzz in your ears.

“Yeah?” Henry’s voice rang loudly when he finally answered, making you all but jump with fright.

Had you paid more attention, you’d have noticed he too sounded out of breath, but you were too out of it to tell. All you could think about was the psycho what was at your door.

“Henry-” you cried, voice shaky as the intake of air was no longer satisfying. You were hyperventilating, sweating from every pore, scared out of your mind.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, his voice more stern now. “Y/n? Are you ok?”

“Yeah- yeah…” you said on autopilot, mind on standby. “No…” You whimpered, “Henry, can you- I think someone is trying to break into my house, I-”

“What!?” he gasped, “I’m sure no one-”

“Henry!” you cried into the phone, “Can you please look through your peephole? Please?”

He sounded confused, but you didn’t have to ask him twice. You heard a bit of shuffling before his voice reached your ears again, “There’s no one there, there’s no one at your door, you can relax”

“No-” you whimpered, unable to calm down, “Henry, please-!”

“I’m coming over right now,” he said.

“No! No, what if they’re still in the hallway?”

“There’s no one there, love” Henry tried to reassure you. When you heard him unlock the door of his apartment your heart stopped, but after that, everything was quiet. 

“Are you ok?” you muttered, wiping your nose with your sleeve.

“Yes, love. I’m fine” Henry lightly chuckled, “I’m at your door, can you open up?”

“No” you scoffed, “What if someone got in?”

“No one got in” he tried to explain, but your adrenaline soaked brain refused to comply.

“Henry, take the spare key I gave you” you suggested, “And grab a knife”

Seeing how affected and terrified you were, Henry didn’t argue with you anymore. In a matter of seconds, you heard the door of your apartment being unlocked, Henry assuring you through the phone that it was him. When he walked inside, you remained hidden in your spot. He checked the kitchen and the living room, coming up to finally enter the bedroom. When your eyes landed on his massive frame, you breathed out relieved and rushed to him, throwing yourself into his arms. There was no other place on Earth you felt as safe as you did when he was holding you.

“Shh, you’re ok, you’re good” Henry cooed, cradling you to his chest, “I got you, baby, ok? I’m here”

But there was no stopping you. You broke down entirely, holding onto him as your legs gave in, turning into a mess. Henry carried you to the bed, sitting you down and allowing you to calm down at your own pace.

“I’m here, ok?” he asked again, rubbing your back, “I won’t let anything happen to you, Y/n, you know that. You’re safe, I got you”

It was impossible to tell just how long it took you to fully calm down, but it was safe to say that it would have taken hours longer had Henry not been there with you. When you were finally able to properly breathe again and hold a conversation, you looked up at him, big doe eyes hoping to convince him without too much of a fuss. “Can you stay here with me, please? I can’t be alone right now”

With nothing but sympathy in his eyes, Henry leaned down and kissed your forehead, “Don’t you think it would be better if we went over to my place instead?”

“No” you shook your head, “And leave the apartment unattended? I don’t think that’s a good idea”

His heart broke. Being his usual, impulsive self, Henry managed to break you down and terrify you to your core. As much as he wanted to reassure you everything would be fine, he couldn’t. He couldn’t just tell you it was him who broke into your apartment in the middle of a jealousy breakdown. So, he settled for the second best option, and really, he couldn’t complain.

It was late in the afternoon on a Sunday, no locksmith on the clock. Seeing how you’d have to wait until the next morning, he was more than happy to spend that time with you.

As time started to pass, you also started to relax. 

The day slowly wilted a way, as both you and Henry made yourselves busy around your apartment. He wasted a couple of hours installing games on your school laptop as you took a bath, he then cooked you dinner, and by the time the night rolled around, you were your usual bubbly self again. And after watching and laughing your hearts out at Jack Nicholson in As Good As It Gets, sleep started to creep up on you.

Henry placed one of your kitchen chairs under the doorknob before turning to give you a massive hug, “No one can get in, darling. I promise”

“Thank god you live across the hall” you confessed, snaking your arms under his hoodie as you gathered yourself as close to him as possible. “What would I have done otherwise?”

“You don’t have to worry about that” Henry kissed your forehead, “I’ll always be here when you need me”

And in that moment, right there, stopping yourself from kissing him turned out to be the most difficult thing you ever had to do. Instead, you settled for his cheek, before hiding your face against his shoulder. “I’ll always be here for you too”

“Thank you, angel” Henry breathed out.

There really was nothing on this earth you loved more than this man. 

Getting ready to go to sleep, you changed in your pajamas, while all Henry did was take off his hoodie. With your toothbrush lodged between your teeth, you lingered in the door frame, watching the muscles of his back flex as he bent down and put his phone down to charge.

Toothpaste and drool could very well have dribbled down your chin as you stood and gawked, only releasing you were staring when Henry turned around and a smile made its way up his lips. “Yes?” he laughed, but all you did was look him up and down, before returning to the bathroom with a shake of your head.

“Oh, Y/n?” Henry called again, following you, “Where can I find a blanket or some sheets?”

First you squinted, but then you decided it would be best if you just finished brushing your teeth before anything else. After rinsing your mouth, you turned to look at him, utterly unamused. “What for?”

“So I don’t have to sleep on leather?”

“You’re sleeping with me” you rolled your eyes, grabbing his elbow and dragging him into the bathroom so he could get ready for bed too. “Not up for discussion”

“Ok” Henry chuckled, looking at you in the mirror. “But I snore”

As if that would make you reconsider. You walked away and into your room, settling under the covers, without another word. About 10 minutes later, Henry joined you.

He fit in like a piece of puzzle and you didn’t even try to keep yourself from cuddling into his side. Sinking his head down between the multitude of pillows on your bed, you giggled, crawling on top of him. Without thinking too much about it, you kissed your way down his neck, peppering tens of kisses against his naked chest. You felt his heartbeat under your palm as he breathed in and out slowly, smiling down at you as he enjoyed the view.

“Thanks for doing this for me” you mumbled, rubbing your hand up and down his chiseled abdomen.

“Really, Y/n” Henry said, wrapping his arms around you, “There’s no need to thank me. Plus, you think I’m not enjoying this?”

“Oh shut up” you giggled. The amount of small talk that followed turned out to be exactly what you needed in order to allow your eyes to peacefully close. Despite the events of earlier in the evening, you now felt safer than ever before.

It was just a matter of time until soft snores started escaping past your lips, your chest rising and falling every so softly as you drifted out of consciousness.

But Henry’s mind was nowhere near relaxed enough to drift off. No. You were too close to him, too innocent and vulnerable for him to just let this moment pass. The way you had just thrown one of your legs over his lap drove him insane - your bare thigh too accessible to him.

At first, he just tested the waters. A peck to the top of your head, and a small caress against the back of your hand. You were completely out, and that accentuated his need further.

Slowly moving his free arm down his body, Henry brushed his fingers over his clothed member, grunting out loud when he felt the sensibility in his tip. He bit into his bottom lip out of need to keep quiet, teasing himself just a little as he struggled to decide how to go about things. With the way you were laying right now, it was next to impossible for him to free himself without moving you. And even though at the beginning he tried to avoid that, when you stirred in your sleep, your body rubbing up against his, he lost all kinds of patience.

As softly as he could, Henry pushed your leg back, just a little. Even in your sleep, you craved his touch, as when you felt movement, you involuntarily shuffled closer, but much to his relief, your legs remained on the mattress.

Eagerness controlled his actions as he pushed his pants down his thighs, propping his hips up with difficulty. When his underwear was pulled down and his cock sprung free, Henry hissed with unmatched satisfaction. With his hand wrapped around his base and his eyes on you, he swallowed thickly, his heart beating out of his chest with a demented sense of bliss.

"My baby-" Henry cooed, rubbing his lips across your hairline as he started stroking his cock.

His movements were slow but not calculated in any way. His brain was occupied, forcing his hand to work on muscle memory. But still, he teased himself, rubbing his thumb across his slit just like he liked to think you would. 

The fear of getting caught was at an all time high as you stirred again. He froze for a second, "That's my good girl-" Henry whispered, looking down at your sleeping frame. As much as he wanted you to take an active part in this, he knew better than to risk it. 

It was getting more and more difficult to breathe, his back sweating profusely as he pumped himself closer to the edge. His hips bucked, causing the bed frame to creak. Instantly, he stilled, eyes on you, but all you did was rub your cheek against his chest, completely unaware of your surroundings.

"I'm so close for you, my darling" Henry groaned, his throat paper dry as the words left his lips. All he could hear was his own breathing and the unmistakable perverse sound of slapping skin, but still, even above all of that, you kept on peacefully snoring. 

The arm Henry looped around your frame was now traveling lower, his palm exploring your side until he reached your ass. He softly gripped a handful of your bum, squeezing hard enough to make up for the struggle of not allowing himself to finish too early. But it was reckless and maybe he shouldn't have done so, as his touch all but woke you up. 

Still overwhelmed with sleep, you barely pushed yourself up, eyes closed as you slightly changed your position. You were now laying higher up his body, your head almost falling off his shoulder. Your breathing tickled the side of his neck as you snaked your arm up and looped it around his frame. Biting down hard on his bottom hip, Henry felt ridiculous amounts of blood rush to the tip of his cock as you refused to settle already.

Rubbing the tip of your nose across his jugular, still mostly out but not fully, you peaked your eyes open, “Henry-?”

“Y- yeah?” he swallowed thickly, freezing in his spot.

“Why’re you awake?” you mumbled.

“Just woke up- had a weird dream, that’s all”

You believed the lie without an ounce of doubt, “Wanna talk about it?”

“Yes” he whispered, “But in the morning. Sorry I woke you up, go back to sleep, darling”

“Ok” you sighed, kissed his bare shoulder and allowed yourself to drift off again.

Henry licked his lips in a haze, his eyes rolling to the back of his head as sweat worked his entire body. God, how he regretted getting himself in his position, but his cock was full on hard, all but leaking at the tip, not so patiently waiting to receive any kind of attention again. He sucked in a deep breath, eyes on you to make sure you were asleep. 

His heart skipped a beat as your mouth popped open, but your light snores came as the strongest form of reassurance, and he resumed his work. The anxiety of getting caught fueled him, and the heels of his feet dug into the mattress, his hips bucking upwards as he furiously pumped his cock.

It was all getting too much. He was close. Henry threw his head back trying to suppress a moan, but he miserably failed. A choked back wail escaped his now dry lips as his whole body tensed. He squeezed you closer, his fingers lewdly digging into the sweet flesh of your ass. He was crossing many lines but that didn't stop him. He didn't see things clear anymore. His chest heaved, rushing up and down as he fisted his cock, biting into his lower lip as he watched your peaceful expression. 

It was pure, dumb luck that he managed to spot a pack of napkins laying on the night stand mere seconds before he came. His juices eagerly ran down his shaft as he flew through his orgasm, his saviour napkin proving almost useless. 

Coming down from his high, he all but managed to calm down, but his mind was still set. He would never get enough of you. And no matter how many times he'd cum, he'd still be down to go again. You had that power over him.

"Fuck…" Henry panted. And in the blur of the moment he created, he didn't even stop to process his thoughts. Gathering the few droplets of cum that landed on his stomach, he brought his hand up to your face, his thumb rubbing across your lips. 

In that moment, then and there, when you unconsciously wrapped your lips around his finger, he almost lost it all over again. 

"Holy-" he cried again, kissing your forehead. As eager and willing as he was to keep going, Henry stopped himself. He tucked the napkins next to the foot of the bed, pulled his pants back up his hips and settled under the covers. 

Sleep didn't come easy, but he eventually drifted off. Unfortunately, the clock had almost struck 3am by the time he closed his eyes, and no later than 6:15, your alarm went off.

"No" you protested, wiggling around in search of your phone. "No school- no, thank you"

Eyes closed and cheek squished into the pillow, Henry raised his arm and found the phone with ease, handing it to you without a word.

Squinting under the bright light of the screen, you dismissed the alarm and snuggled back into Henry's chest, his arms wrapping around your body in an instant.

And as heavenly as this felt, it only lasted for about 5 minutes, until your alarm went off again. 

"Just turn it off" Henry laughed, kissing your forehead, "I'll wake you up after I make breakfast"

"You don't have to" you protested, throwing in a whine or two as you curled yourself around him.

"I want to"

"No"

"Y/n…"

"Ok fine" you sighed, "Thank you"

"No need darling" Henry chuckled and stood up. He once again pecked the top of your head and then he was gone. About one second and a half later, you were asleep again, only to complain when Henry woke you up.

"It's 7" he stated, gathering the blanket in his arms and allowing the cold air to reach your body.

"Give it back" you cried.

"Is that how it's gonna be?" Henry threatened, and despite his dominating tone, you still refused to take him seriously. When you hid your face between the pillows, he deeply sighed, but satisfaction was still audible in his tone. "Fine then"

Taking you completely by surprise, Henry bent down and gathered you in his arms, throwing you over his shoulder with absolute ease.

"Henry-" you yelled, "The fuck-"

"Not gonna be late, Y/n" Henry laughed, "Not on my watch"

"God" you giggled along and allowed yourself to be carried to the kitchen. 

As soon as he walked out of the bedroom, a delicious smell reached your nose. It was probably the first real breakfast you'd had in weeks, so you weren't going to complain anymore. Fresh coffee, toast, avocado, pancakes, hard boiled eggs and a multitude of veggies and fruit awaited on the table.

"I didn't even know I had all this food in my house"

"You didn't-" Henry shook his head, sitting down beside you, "Grabbed them from my place"

"You shouldn't have, but thank you"

"No need" he assured you, "Dig in"

When you were done, and right before you headed to the bathroom to get ready, you turned to him again. "Do you know the number of any locksmiths? I really wanna change the locks"

Following a quick Google search, Henry found a multitude of ads, and after choosing the most trustworthy looking one, he dialed the number as you patiently waited beside him.

Everything seemed to go perfectly well, until he frowned, "No, today pl- [...] No, I'm not locked out of my- [...] You sure-? Ok, ok fine. Ok, tomorrow, first thing, ok, thanks"

"They can't come today?" you pouted as soon as he hung up.

"No, I'm sorry" Henry shook his head, and seeing the disappointment plastered on your face, he spoke up again. "I can stay one more night, if you want to. I'll sleep in the living room-"

"What? No" you scoffed, "It's not that…"

"What is it then?" he questioned, starting to get worried.

You hesitated. "Its no-"

"Don't tell me it's nothing" Henry commanded, pointing a finger at you. A smile appeared at the corner of your lips as you rolled your eyes.

"Ok, fine. I just- I just had to film today for the- you know… That's all, but I can do it some other day"

Henry didn't answer until a smirk tilted the corner of his lips upwards. "Or I could help you?"

"Help me?" you gawked.

"Yeah" he nonchalantly shrugged, "Helped you once before, didn't I?"

"You sure?"

"Yeah" he smiled, "Only if you me want to, of course"

Your knees weakened and your heart was beating in all the wrong ways, so all you managed to do was giggle and shake your head in disbelief. "Well, yeah... I want to"

How were you going to tell him that the video was supposed to be of you fucking yourself with a baby pink dildo? And how exactly was he going to help? You had a long day ahead of you and the ridiculous amounts of school work you had to get done in the meantime didn't allow you to give these questions any kind of priority. All you wanted was for the evening to come around already even if you sweated profusely just at the thought of what was to come.

#henry cavill #henry cavill imagine #henry cavill x reader #henry cavill smut #henry cavill x you #walter marshall x reader #august walker x reader #geralt of rivia x you

[ameliterature]

Hey bestie pls could you do a Chameron drabble where the other poets didn't know they were dating, and they find out :) Thank you! <3

"Cameron, you fink, why dontcha bother someone else with your stupid factoid." Charlie insults his roommate from across the cave.

"It's not a factoid, Charlie, all I'm saying is that if we keep-"

"I don't wanna hear it-" Charlie cuts him off again. "Anyway, Neil, go ahead, start the meeting." He tosses his eyes onto Neil, obviously concerned by the friction between the two roommates.

As they recited their opening poem, Neil tossed his own look back at Todd, shifting his eyes to Charlie and back at Todd to signal the subject of his worry. Todd, having built an amazing sense of telepathy with Neil, sensed the concern and signaled him that they'll talk about it later.

Later into the night, a bit past midnight, the poets returned to their dorm undetected.

Neil and Todd retired into their room, the one right across Charlie and Cameron. "What was up with those two, huh?"

"I dunno, I feel like Charlie and Cameron are fighting again." Todd said, sitting beside Neil on his bed.

"Maybe I should talk to Charlie tomorrow, y'know? I hate to see two friends fight, especially during meetings."

Todd shrugged nervously "Yeah, I hope they could stop being enemies for once."

"I fucking love you," Charlie says breathlessly as he closed the door behind him and Cameron. He started pressing gentle yet passionate kisses onto Cameron's cheek. His desperate hugs were enough to let Cameron know he was apologizing for something.

"Really? Seemed like you were really annoyed by me a while ago," Cameron rolled his eyes at Charlie.

"Look, I told you once, I'm not gonna say it again: When you tell the group random facts, I find you REALLY ATTRACTIVE. If you're gonna respect the fact I'm tryin' to hide my rabid attraction to you, you better stop being so cute in public." Charlie kisses Cameron's forehead.

Cameron rolls his eyes, smiling at how he even ended up with Charlie. Perhaps it was that one time he confessed to Charlie-- obviously, but perhaps it was that time he and Charlie got too close too fast during one argument that everything became warm and fuzzy.

Either way, he likes seeing Charlie like this. He was surprisingly affectionate and gentle with how he handled their relationship. He only really "overreacted" how much he hated Cameron in public, but he always made up for it behind closed doors. Charlie is especially cute when he tells Cameron about his entire day before they go to bed, and the fact that Cameron had enough space for all of Charlie's stupid stories in his brain was remarkable.

Charlie Dalton was, in his own words, whipped for Richard Cameron. He'd do anything for Cameron, if it meant making him realize he was sorry for all those years they fought or times he insulted him, or if it also meant trying to show him how much he wasn't as uptight as they both thought. Charlie tried his best to make Cameron see how much he likes him. But he just couldn't risk outing them both to their group. It wasn't fair. Cameron wasn't ready to show their relationship to anyone and Charlie was willing to wait.

One day, in another DPS meeting, the boys were huddled up by the cave again, listening to Charlie play his saxophone (he kind of pointed towards Cameron) and he would sway slowly along.

Something caught Cameron's eye, in his peripheral caught Neil and Todd's hands secretly intertwine while no one else was looking. And at that instant, Cameron didn't feel nervous or alone, or even embarrassed. If the two people he cared about (aside from Charlie) could possibly be in a relationship, then they'd understand him and Charlie. And with their influence, it wouldn't be too bad.

"Hey guys," Cameron started. Charlie lowered his saxophone as he slowly decreased his volume to listen to Cameron. "Did you know-"

Charlie blasted an incoherent jumble of notes to mask Cameron's upcoming factoid.

"That--"

Another louder jumble of notes.

"I--"

An even louder, more annoying jumble of notes. The others were starting to get pissed off.

"Damn it, Charlie, let Cameron finish!" Neil snapped. "I know he and you haven't been friendly recently but, Jesus, could you give him a break?" Todd looked at Neil and back at Charlie, shocked and embarrassed.

"T-thanks, Neil but-"

"It's okay, Cameron, go on, tell us anything, and we won't let Charlie butt in."

"Well, I was gonna say the fact that I love Charlie Dalton, but I was kinda hoping him to butt in and say it with me." Cameron joked sheepishly.

Everyone in the cave had their jaws drop. Neil and Todd, trying to process if he was joking, Meeks and Pitts watching Charlie's shocked expression, and Knox who was rapidly turning his head back and forth to get everyone else's reaction.

"I--" Charlie's eyes were locked on Cameron.

"I know I was ashamed to admit it before, but I think it was because I was ashamed that I wasn't good enough for you. I wanna be good enough for you, I wanna show our friends that I'm not a fink, or I'm not some arrogant guy against you all the time-- Charlie, I really love you."

Charlie soon stood up from his spot and made his way over to Cameron, holding his face fondly.

Todd looked up at his friend, seemingly dazed and impressed, before looking back at Neil. "A-are they coming out before us?" He whispered to Neil.

Charlie gave Cameron a simple kiss on the lips, and even if it embarrassed his red-headed (and red-cheeked) boyfriend, he didn't mind it at all. "You're more than enough to me, Cam."

"Oh my god I think they are--" Neil replied to Todd.

Despite the fact Cameron and Charlie stole their thunder, Neil and Todd welcomed their relationship, congratulating them, urging the others to join in, the rest of them unsurprisingly quite ok with it.

That same night, when Charlie and Cameron returned to their rooms, lying down on the same bed, holding hands as they try to sleep.

"I can't believe you just finked about our own relationship." Charlie said, bringing up Cameron's hand to kiss it.

"Don't worry, they're the only people I'd tell it to, for now." Cameron turned to kiss his roommate good night, giving Charlie shivers down his whole spine. "Just say the word, I'll do it, babe."

Charlie Dalton is very much whipped for Richard Cameron.

#dps #dps drabble #is this even a drabble #it's a one shot #chameron #charlie dalton #richard camacho #richard cameron #todd anderson #anderperry hc #anderperry (minor) #dead poets society

[plus-ultra-oof]

Pretty | SakuAtsu | Haikyuu!! | Tickle Fic

A/N: Ok hi so I wrote this a little while ago bc my SakuAtsu brainrot never stops and I figured I might as well share it. This is my first time posting a T-fic so please be kind lol. Also, sorry if the formatting is a mess I am on my phone.

Disclaimer: This takes place post timeskip so minor spoilers for Haikyuu! It’s nothing to major other than some vague things mentioned in passing. Also includes swearing and centers around tickling within a romantic setting (all sfw).

Summary: Sakusa’s stubborn as hell, but Atsumu is more than willing to get his boyfriend to go to sleep by whatever means necessary. Especially if that means he gets to see that pretty smile of his.

——————————————————

“Ya know, yer hair is really soft Omi,” Atsumu said, breaking the calm silence that had settled over the room. It was actually Kiyoomi’s room in his apartment this time. Atsumu was lying on his bed, running his hands through Kiyoomi’s dark curls as the other man laid across the bed, head placed conveniently in the setter’s lap as he attempted to read a book. He was far too tired to do so, in Atsumu’s professional opinion. The way his eyes kept falling shut for longer between blinks and how his grip on the hardcover kept shifting until he was barely holding it open where it lay against his propped up legs supported it too.

“You already- said that,” he replied, trying for flat and uninterested but the cute yawn that interrupted his sentence completely contradicted his unbothered persona.

It’d been a long practice for everyone, but especially the spikers. Both Bokuto and Sakusa had to run an insane amount of cut shot drills on top of their usual work. Just watching it had made Atsumu tired, so he could only imagine how Omi was feeling. The man had been practically dead on his feet when they’d gotten back to their complex, so the way he had melted into their bed upon finally brushing his teeth was unsurprising. His attempts at staying up were though. Atsumu blamed that on his insistence on keeping his routine no matter what.

The stubborn bastard could barely keep his eyes open, but sure, making it through a whole chapter of that thick ass book was totally plausible.

“It’s true though,” Atsumu was quiet for a moment and then, when he got no response he added on, “and it’s so pretty too,” For that he received a half hearted glare that was dampened by the way he could feel the man leaning into his touch as his fingertips scratched lightly again his scalp. The twin smiled, his boyfriend really lost his filter when he was this tired.

Gone were the biting remarks and cold expressions, leaving him far more pliant than he would ever admit to. Hell, here he was, letting Atsumu play with his hair and letting out little sighs of contentment. His eyes were even gradually falling closed as he relaxed into his boyfriend’s touch.

The harsh lines of his face were softened by the low light in the bed room, and with his brows uncreased by any worries and his hair pooled around his head like a dark halo, he looked almost angelic. Like something out of one of those fancy paintings.

“Yer so pretty Omi,” Atsumu murmured absently, the words falling from his lips easily. It was a statement to him. A simple truth of life.

The sky was blue, volleyball was the best, and Atsumu’s boyfriend was a damn masterpiece.

This was only proved further when his cheeks began to warm, the pink flush only complimenting smooth skin and pouty lips, twitching down into a petulant frown despite his flustered state.

“Shut it,” he mumbled in reply, unable to come up with a proper comeback in his half asleep state. Atsumu smirked. Another thing he loved about sleepy Omi was his inability to disguise any of his reactions. It always made messing him even more fun.

“Omiiii, Yer so cute m’gonna dieeeeee,” he teased, leaning down to admire his expression more closely. The new angle let him see the minuscule twitch of the corner of his lips, a sign that his adorable boyfriend wasn’t really as grumpy as he was trying to appear, “Aw is that a smile I see?” Said boyfriend had abandoned all hopes of reading his book in favor of moving off of Atsumu’s lap and onto his side of the bed, laying back and closing his eyes.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about Atsumu,” he stated, his voice still managing to stay level and unaffected, a true testament to Sakusa’s insane amount of self control, “Now its late, let’s go to sleep,” Too bad Atsumu was too much of an asshole to let him be. And, he knew him well enough to chip away at that carefully crafted mask until his boyfriend was puddy in his hands.

Miya pouted and moved closer, letting his right hand come back up to rest in his curls again and the other land at his back, rubbing slow circles into it the way he knew Sakusa liked.

“Oh c’mon baby don’t be like that, I just want ta see that gorgeous smile of yers,” he let his chin rest on Kiyoomi’s shoulder, pressing close to his back as his arm trailed down to wrap around his waist. He placed a light kiss against his boyfriend’s temple. The first in a trail that led down his cheek to his jaw and then took a detour down and up his neck to reach his ear again, earning soft sighs and hums as he went. Atsumu smiled, his Omi really was sweet like this: All peaceful and relaxed and unassuming, “Do me a favor and lemme see it?”

He shifted from kissing at his neck to mouthing lightly and letting his lips graze the expanse of soft pale skin at his disposal and the reaction was immediate, even if Sakusa tried to hide it. Sure, he stayed quiet, but Atsumu could feel the shivers that ran through him when he started and how his shoulders began to shake the longer he went on. He felt him jump when he let the fingers at his waist trace lazy shape into his toned stomach.

“Atsumu-“ His name was rushed out in a breathy way that only Atsumu got to hear.

“Yes Omi?” He purred, directly into his boyfriends ear, savoring the little squeak that came from the man shaking in his arms.

“N-no,” he whined, actually whined, shaking his head in an attempt to rid himself of the tingly sensations that were quickly perforating his sleep addled mind and making him want to give into the bouncy feeling rising in his chest.

“Why not Omi? M’just tryin ta kiss ya?” He followed his movements easily, continuing the playful torment of his boyfriend.

“You- you know exActly whehy not!” The squeak was louder this time and Kiyoomi even let a few titters loose as Atsumu started using his other hand to lightly scribble at the other side of his neck while simultaneously blowing into his ear.

“Ooh was that a giggle there Omi? What’s happenin’ baby? Somethin’ funny?” Atsumu knew that if he could, Sakusa would be griping about the teasing and how this whole thing was immature and unfair. For now though, he was too busy trying (and failing) not to devolve into a ticklish mess, so Miya was content.

“Nahaha stahahap yohuhu bahahastard!” He forced out through his giggles. The sound was light and filled with gasping breathes and squeals. Kiyoomi hated it, but it was one of Atsumu’s favorite sounds. Especially when he knew he was the cause of it.

Whether it came from unraveling him like this or timing a sarcastic joke just right, he savored it each time he got to hear it, so he didn’t appreciate it when both ungloved hands flew up to muffle it.

“Hey what’dya do that for?” He asked, his own pout forming on his lips as he leaned up to see his boyfriend’s face. His eyes were squeezed shut again and the flush was even brighter now. What was really captivating though, was the way his whole face seemed to brighten, even with his open mouth smile covered up.

Atsumu couldn’t help but stop and stare for a few seconds before remembering the task at hand. To see that pretty smile for real.

“C’mon Omi, just pull yer hands away or m’gonna haveta resort to extreme measures,” Atsumu increased his effort at leaving barely there kisses along Kiyoomi’s neck, feeling his heart race against his lips when he reached the pulse point. This got a cacophony of muffled squeaks and giggles before he finally gave into instinct and moved one of his hands away to push at his face.

As soon as it came up, Atsumu saw his chance and took it.

The hand that was drawing shivery patterns over sharp hip bones immediately skittered up Sakusa’s side to find its mark just above his ribs, sending the arm crashing right back down with a muffled shriek.

“Pffft phmp uff,” Came the dampened response as the other hand stayed stubborn in its quest to deprive Atsumu of his happiness. He decided to take it up another notch, because despite his tiredness, his Omi-Omi was still able to put up a good fight. He wouldn’t have him any other way: As headstrong as he was talented.

“Fine, don’t say I didn’t warn ya,” Atsumu leaned back just enough to leave some space between himself and Kiyoomi’s back. For insurance and safety purposes, he threw a leg over his waist to make sure he would fall off the bed.

Then all bets were off.

He started actually scratching at his armpits in tandem with leaving sloppy kisses along his spine and shoulder blades and any other part of his back he could reach at the moment, and the reaction was instantaneous and oh so satisfying.

“Mmmmphhhuhuhuck AtsuhuHU! NaHAHA STAHAP!”

“What babe? Somethin’ wrong?” He made sure to speak against the skin of his back, his words sending ticklish tremors through Kiyoomi as his worst spot was attacked.

“NOHOHOT THEHERE AHATSUHU!” Something seemed to switch off in his brain as his arms finally fell limp at his sides and he threw his head back against the pillows, laughing fully now. When they did, Atsumu immediately toned it down, abandoning his underarm in favor of leaving feather light scratches down the sides of his boyfriend’s back, making him shiver and keeping him caught up in his giggles without torturing him too bad.

Omi could never say that he was anything but nice about this....Well at least at this particular moment. Sakusa definitely kept a dated list of the times that his boyfriend had ruthlessly abused this specific weakness, but that was besides the point.

“Ahatsuhuhu,” Atsumu looked up at the sound of his name falling from upturned lips and found himself mesmerized by the sight.

Now that Kiyoomi had given up on stopping him he’d shifted to flop down on his stomach, bracing his head on his arms as he tried to contain the shaky laughter still spilling easily from his mouth. His hair was tousled from the struggle and his eyes were teary from laughing so hard and he was in an eternal state of flushed and fuck he was beautiful.

Too pretty for his own good. And Atsumu’s. At this rate, he was gonna die before he got to the Olympics.

He could just see it now: Miya Atsumu, beloved son, brother, boyfriend, and teammate. Cause of death: Seeing his godlike boyfriend laugh his heart out.

Shit, ‘Samu was right, he was whipped.

“Tsuhuhuhumuuu, m’tired,” Whiny giggles followed by a familiar yawn brought him out of his thoughts and he let his fingers slow to a stop, moving up in the bed to be beside his still giggling boyfriend. He turned him over onto his back before placing his book onto the nights stand and turning out the light.

“A-asshole,” Sakusa groaned, through breathy pants, giving him a half-hearted shove as he turned to face the blonde.

“But ya love me,” he teased moving in closer to lay his head on the dark haired man’s chest, listening patiently as his heartbeat finally started to slow down.

“You suck,” he murmured in response, his tone empty of any real malice. Plus, the way he was snuggling closer and lacing their hands together across Atsumu’s waist contradicted his words anyway.

Atsumu smiled and took a final look at his boyfriend before closing his eyes to follow him into sleep. And as a man of a limited vocabulary when it came to most things other than volleyball, his last thoughts prior to drifting off were as simple as they were true: Omi’s so pretty.

#sakuatsu #ticklish!Sakusa #haikyuu! tickle fic #tickle fic #tickle #tickles #tickling #fanfiction #haikyuu!! #thanks for reading

[thiswasinevitableid]

for the meet ugly prompts, 38 indruck nsfw ;)

Here you go!

38: I overhear you ordering your coffee in a coffee shop and I’m trying to place your voice when I realize that you’re the phone sex operator I’ve been calling on and off for the last few months but the realization startles me so much that I accidentally spill my drink on you and you’re pissed

Indrid thought he was having a normal day. He’s treating himself to a post work iced vanilla mocha, then he’ll go home, watch T.V and draw, maybe jerk off, then go to bed and get up in time for his eight a.m appointment tomorrow.

He’s messing around on his phone when the person placing their order catches his ear. There’s something in the drawl, polite and friendly, that feels weirdly familiar. It’s not a regular at the shop, and a glance at the mans face offers no useful information; he’s a complete stranger.

The barista asks something about the second drink, and the man replies, “as sweet as can be, please.”

“Ahnngod, please, please, please say I can cum?” Indrid’s been edging himself with the fleshlight so long his wrist is sore.

“Hmmm” the voice on the phone takes his sweet time answering, “dunno, not sure I punished you enough for teasin me in the bar.”

Indrid whimpers, hoping the neighbors can’t hear (even if he’d like them too, they haven’t consented to it).

This is how his calls to the 1-800-Hot-Guys line have gone ever since his first time. He asks for “Ryan,” gets a sweet, southern greeting before the other man asks what he’s in the mood for tonight. See, Indrid’s only recently begun exploring his interest in men, and is discovering that a better sense of his sexuality makes it much easier to get in touch with his other desires. Like being fucked in a bathroom stall where lots of people can hear what’s happening to him.

Ryan always takes the ideas generated by Indrid’s desire-addled brain and runs with them. Tonight, virginal Indrid Cold went to a leather bar and found a bear waiting for him (he suspects Ryan might be one in the real world, because when Indrid first revealed that preference his moans sounded a touch more genuine). The bear made him blow him in front of everyone to make sure he was worth taking home, then told him not to cum until he was done fucking him.

“Please?”

A chuckle, “Okay darlin, you can cum.”

Indrid’s certain he hurts Ryan's ear with the noise he makes as he spurts into the toy, but all the other man says is , “Good boy.”

After a moment, he adds, “aw fuck, meant to bring some spankin or somethin into the scene because I know you like it.”

“That’s, that’s quite alright. I’m not sure you could ever disappoint me.”

“Thanks, sugar.”

Indrid whines, hoping it sounds horny and not like the noise a man who’s just realized he’ll be sleeping alone makes.

“You like when I call you that? Because it’s true; you’re as sweet as can be”

As he’s been having its slow-motion realization, Indrid’s body has been going on autopilot, picking up his cup when the young woman behind the counter calls his name. Which means that--when Indrid startles at his revelation-- the cup is in perfect position to send its contents flying straight onto the man who caused it.

“AHfuck, jesus man be careful!”

“I, I’m so sorry, here, let me-” he slips in the puddle of coffee and hits the floor, kicking the other man in the shin on his way down.

“Owfuck, fuck, okay, don’t fuckin try to help again.” The man snaps.

“Nono, right, I’m sorry, goodbye” he scrambles up, sticky with shame and vanilla syrup, and hurries out of the shop.

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

Duck keeps an eye on his burner phone while playing Plants vs Bom-Boms on his real one. It’s shaping up to be another night with only two calls.

He took up the phone sex thing during the last government shutdown; the park had to furlough them, and he needed money. The extra cash was nice enough that he kept at it even after work started back up. He isn’t the most in-demand operator; he can’t lie, laughs a little too easily, so lots of callers don’t come to him a second time.

One of the few who does is Indrid. He’s Duck’s favorite because their fantasies align well enough that he actually jerks off while on the phone with him. But the guy hasn’t called in two weeks; this is a bummer, in part, because Duck came up with a scenario involving a pool table and a biker gang he thinks Indrid would really be into.

More than that, he’s worried about him.

He worries about him so much that even a half a day later he’s wondering if he should figure out how to have someone check on him. The coffee shop is conducive to thinking. Right up until the dipshit who spilled coffee on him a few weeks back plops down in the seat across from him.

“You here to ruin another shirt?”

The man, all silver hair and angular features, shakes his head, “Nono, I, I really am very sorry about that. I came to offer to buy you another.”

Duck points at his cup.

“Some other time?”

“You come here often?’

“Since I moved to the city, yes. I was out in the suburbs up until a few months ago.”

“Fine. Next time we see each other, you owe me a drink.”

He nods, nearly sliding his red glasses off his nose in his eagerness. Then he taps on the table, “There’s, ah, something else you should know. We already know each other. In a way.”

Duck frowns; he’s never seen this guy before, he’d remember his face.

“We talk on the phone. Often.”

Oh fuck.

“My name is, ah, it’s, it’s Indrid.”

“Jesus, glad you’re ok--hold the fuck on. How the fuck do you know who I am?”

“I recognized your voice the last time we were both here. I, I wanted to get to know you more but I felt it was only right to do so if you knew I knew who you were so you wouldn’t be uncomfortable, but you clearly are, I’m so sorry” he stands up, banging his knee in the process, “I promise I won’t call any more, I didn’t mean to be creepy, I’m sorry, goodbye.”

He’s out the door in a flash of long limbs before Duck has a chance to respond.

Duck sighs, downs the rest of his coffee, and decides not to dwell on the fact he’s going to miss Indrid’s calls.

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

Indrid’s excited. He really is.

It’s just that the sex club is even more overstimulating than he anticipated.

It was alright at first; when he replied that yes, this was his first time, the guy working the counter ushered him over to a set of blue velvet seats and told him to wait. Soon, Indrid and ten others were being given a rundown of the rules, risks, and etiquette of the space, their understanding of which they signed in a neatly typed contract.

Then they turned them loose into three stories of sexual exploration and Indrid froze, totally unable to process it all. Lucky for him Lucy, there with her girlfriend Willow, helped him navigate the edge of the first floor until they came to one of the “chill out” rooms; rooms for people for whom the club was as much a place to chat with friends as it was a place to get spanked or suspended. They even have juice.

After three separate people check to be sure he’s alright, he asks the trio on a nearby couch where he should go to if he’s interested in bondage and impact play. They all agree the second floor is his best bet, and that there’s a shibari demonstration starting soon.

To reach the demo room, Indrid passes though a portion of the space that reminds him of a hotel. The nice dominatrix explained the rules for their use as: doors and windows closed, leave us alone. Curtains open but door shut? You’re free to watch, but don’t come in. And if the door is open, you’re welcome to join whatever is happening. He pauses at some open windows, but nothing really catches his attention.

The demo room is already packed, so he stays at the back. A perk of being tall is he can see the couple on the little platform easily without blocking anyone else’s view. The dom is explaining why she chose the rope she did and what ties she’s going to show everyone. Indrid listens, but his eyes wander in hopes of finding someone checking him out.

Someone is. But Indrid isn’t sure it’s a good thing.

Duck stands a few bodies to his left, looking him up and down with a slight smile. Well, at least that means he doesn’t think he’s stalking him or something.

The other man meets his eyes, tips his head towards the nearby green room and raises an eyebrow. Indrid nods, picks his way through the crowd to find Duck has beaten him there.

“Y’know, if you’d told me you were into this scene, I coulda worked with that.” He polishes off his water and tosses the cup in the trash.

“I...this is my first time. Is, ah, is it yours?”

“Nah. Came some when I was younger, decided to come out tonight because I was bored and itchin’ to get someone cute in my lap.” The casual way he says it is a hundred times hotter than the practice voice he used on the phone.

“Ah. In, ah, in that case, would you mind if I asked you a question?”

“Shoot.” Duck leans against the wall, grinning.

“Am I dressed alright for this?” He gestures to his pink and yellow tank top and black jeans.

He watches Duck catch his laugh before it starts, which he appreciates.

“You’re dressed just fine, Indrid. I mean, just look at me.”

“I am” Indrid is having such a difficult time tearing his eyes from the way Duck’s white t-shirt fits his chest or how the bluejeans show off his ass. Duck catches him mid-ogle, which is all it takes to drop his gaze to the floor.

“C’mon, sit down with me a sec.” Duck settles on a grey couch, leaving Indrid space to join him, “feel like you and I got off on the wrong foot. You know I ain’t angry with you for tellin me you were a customer, right?”

Indrid shakes his head but sits down all the same.

“Indrid, you startled the hell outta me when you admitted that. For a second, I was sure you were gonna try to get somethin outta me by threatenin to tell my boss at my regular job. But then it was so fuckin clear all you were tryin to do was be straight with me and try to be polite about the drink thing, I wasn’t mad at all. You just up and bolted before I could say as much.”

“Ah. Yes. I, ah, I can be a bit of a walking disaster so I try to get out of situations before I make them even worse.”

Duck touches his hand, “I get bein’ spooked. Happens to everyone. But, uh, guess what I’m also gettin at is, uh, if you wanna actually get to know each other, I ain’t gonna complain.”

“I’d like that.”

“Okay” Duck scoots closer, “let’s start easy; what do you do when you ain’t callin me?”

Indrid tells him about the tattoo shop, which leads to them comparing ink, which in turn leads to Duck getting on a ten minute digression about native plants. They’re debating the best Cramps album (Duck votes for “Date With Elvis,” Indrid for “Off the Bone”) when they decide to stretch their legs, Duck holding Indrid’s hand as he weaves them through rooms and clumps of people.

They end up doing laps of the second floor, people watching, during which Duck nudges Indrid playfully, “Knew you were kiddin me with the never been fucked stuff.”

“Ah, well…”

“Holy fuck, you’ve never had sex and you picked here as the place to try? You got guts, sugar.”

Indrid blushes, “Well, yes and no. I’ve never had sex with another guy, but I feel confident in what kinds of things I want to try. You helped a lot with that; you made me feel safe enough to express and explore my more intense desires.”

“Glad to hear it.”

“I came here out of curiosity, and because I thought my chances were good of finding someone who shared my interests without running the gamut of dating.”

“So all that stuff about bein watched, bein roughed up and used, you, uh, you really like it?”

“Indeed. Do you like it too? I, ah, I assume you pretend to like everything when you work on a sex line.”

“You’re supposed to yeah. But I’ll let you in on a little secret” Duck leans close, whispers in his ear, “I never was much good at pretendin.”

“Oh. Oh my.” He leans against Duck, excitement making his legs unreliable.

“You want me to show you just how much I like it?”

“Please.”

Duck kisses his cheek, “Missed hearin you beg, sugar. C’mon.” He pulls Indrid two doors down to a room dedicated to impact play. People are sprawled and tied to crosses, benches, chairs, all of which look exciting. Duck doesn’t stop to consider them, doesn’t even hesitate on their trip. He stops at a table, one bolted to the floor, and digs through a nearby basket.

“Here it is” he pulls out a red blanket, holds it out for Indrid to test the texture.

“It’s lovely.”

“Good” Duck spreads it on the table, “you’ll be comfier this way. How naked do you wanna be?”

“Is just my underwear alright?”

Duck points to the completely nude person being spanked on his right and the fully clothed one being hit with a crop to his left.

“I meant with you.”

Duck sets his hands on Indrid’s hips, “as long as I get to see this cute ass in the air for me, I’ll be just fine.”

Indrid quickly strips to his boxer briefs, opts to leave them on for now. Duck licks his lips, pats the table. Indrid bends over it, feet planted on the floor.

“Gonna use just my hand tonight. Easier for me to feel how hard I’m hittin, and I wanna be able to grope you while I turn your ass red.”

He moans, tenses as Duck rubs soothing circles on his ass. The first few slaps are mild, Duck checking on him after each one. Then one comes, hard and sharp, and he gasps, hips momentarily twitching away from Duck.

“Still good?”

“So very good, more, pleaseAHgod” He clings to the far end of the table as Duck brings ten slaps down on each side before giving him a rest.

“Let’s see...how many times would you say you called me?”

“At, at least fifteen.”

“Fifteen times two, add a few extra for ghostin me…” Duck pets his lower back, “You’re gonna get forty on each side as punishment for not lettin me see you cum all those times you called. Think you can handle that?”

Indrid nods.

“Count.”

“AHone, two, th-three, Aaaah,god, fourfive…”

Indrid loses himself somewhere around “ten” on the second side; all his focus is on being good, on counting out each strike, on taking whatever Duck wants to give him. His heartbeat is loud in his ears and his skin stings from ass to thigh. Dimly, he hears spectators complimenting Duck on having such a well-trained sub.

“He is, ain’t he?” Duck lands the final blow with a grunt, keeps his hand there and squeezes. Indrid whimpers, the pain going straight to his already aching dick. Duck shifts his stance, still mercilessly groping the bruise but pressing his fly against the cleft of Indrid’s ass, making it abundantly clear Indrid isn’t alone in his arousal, “he fuckin knows who he belongs too.”

Indrid moans, tears pricking his eyes; Duck is wonderful, Duck is handsome, Duck is perfect, and Duck is claiming him instead of someone twice as attractive or experienced.

“I know, sugar, you like it when people see how good you are for me.” Duck crouches down, petting Indrid’s hair as he studies his face, “you wanna regroup and finish this at home? Or do you need me now?”

“Now?” Indrid raises his head hopefully. His voice is odd in his throat, vulnerable but not afraid in the slightest. Duck nods, helps him up, thanks the person who offers to clean-up the station since Indrid, “looks like he’ll hit the ground if you let go” and grabs Indrid’s clothes.

“No point in putting these back on. Not with what I’m gonna do to you.”

They find an unoccupied, cleaned room, Indrid flopping on the bed as Duck closes the door.

“You wanna prep yourself or do you want me to?”

“I, I can do it. And could we, ah, leave the curtains closed for this bit?”

“Course.” Duck draws the red fabric tight as Indrid fishes complimentary condoms and lube from the bowl on the table. He’s so wound up he starts with two, the stretch uncomfortable for a few instants before he gets himself to relax.

“You look so fuckin good doin that.” Duck is undressing, only taking his eyes off Indrid when his belt buckle resists him.

“I’ve had a lot of practice fingering myself while listening to you. I, I’d picture whatever person you told me to but I, none of it compares to you.”

Duck blushes as he pulls his pants off.

“I mean it. You, you’re so handsome I” he tenses, pushing the third finger in and fucking himself fast, “I can’t believe it. I,I want to be so good for you, Duck, please,” he’s babbling, decides to quit while he’s ahead, “is three enough?”

“You tell me.” Duck gestures to his dick with a flourish; it’s average length, he thinks, but combined with the dark hair on Duck’s belly and the strong curve of his thighs, it is the most glorious dick in all of creation.

“Yes, yesyes, please come over here now oh, wait, the curtains please?”

Duck whisks them open on his way to the bed, settles with his back against the wall before rolling the condom on with ease. He points to his lap, “You wanna face me?”

“Yes. I...I like the idea of people watching but I don’t think I can handle seeing their scrutiny just yet.” He straddles Duck, let’s the shorter grope his sore ass before guiding it down.

“You sure you wanna do this now?” Duck murmurs into his chest, “you don’t owe me your first time with a fella.”

Indrid kisses his forehead and sinks down in reply.

‘Fuck!” Duck grips his hips, laughs, “that’s a hell of an answer, sugar.”

“Nngh” Indrid’s whole brain goes offline at the feeling of Duck inside him.

“Dick drunk already?” Duck teases.

“YesAHGOD, god, ohmygoodness.” He clings to Duck’s shoulders as the other man fucks up into him with abandon.

“That’s just fine, ‘Drid. Got enough brains for the two of us; all you gotta do is be my cute, fucked-out toy.”

“Nffph” Indrid hides his face in Duck’s neck. His legs and ass, still sore from earlier, are reluctant to obey his mind, so all he can do is let Duck bounce him on his cock or hold him down on it to thrust up in short, demanding jerks of his body.

“We got an audience.”

Indrid tries to moan. It comes out a whimper.

“You want me to tell you what they’re doin?”

“Mmhhmm”

“Two of ‘em are makin out with one eye on you. The other three…” he nibbles Indrid’s ear, “they’re jerkin off to us. Don’t blame ‘em, you look so fuckin good on my dick they all wish they were me.”

“Duck” his cock keeps rubbing on Duck’s belly, threatening to spill before he’s ready.

“One of ‘em asks how you feel on my dick. You want me to tell him?”

“Please.”

“Fuckin’ great!” Duck yells, “it’s his first time and he’s” Duck grunts, bucks his hips, “so fuckin tight but takes it like a fucking champ. Gettin in this ass is a fuckin privilege.”

Indrid smiles into his skin at the pride in Duck’s voice and the responding whoops from outside.

“Fuck” Duck kisses his cheek, “fuck, shoulda grabbed a cock ring, I’m gonna cum way too fuckin fast.”

“Me, me too.”

“Just like a fuckin virgin.” Duck quickens their pace.

“I’m not a--Aaaahn” the noise cuts off as he cums between them, cock pulsing onto Duck’s skin.

“Fuck, fuck that’s hot, fuck, c’mon sugar, lemme cum, lemme cum right in this fuckin perfect assfuck, fuck, ‘Drid.” He holds Indrid down, groaning as he pumps his hips. Then he tips them forward, crashing their mouths together and pressing Indrid into the bed.

When they surface for air, the spectators are gone. Duck pulls out, cleans them both up as Indrid tries to remember how words work.

“So good.” Is what comes out.

“Glad you think so.” Duck gathers him into a hug, “you want me to do all the aftercare here?”

Indrid blinks, “what’s the other option?”

“We could, uh, go back to my place?”

“That...I’d like that. Wait.” Indrid cocks his head, “do you...would it really be okay if I stayed the night?”

“Yep. Kinda hopin you’d stay over plenty in the future.”

“You want to date me?’

“Damn right” Duck kisses him, “besides you, still owe me a drink.”

Indrid kisses back, grinning, “So I do.”

#indruck #indrid cold/ duck newton #meet ugly

[deathonyourtongue]

Willow Run | Ch. 4

Summary: On a horse ranch in Texas, life is far simpler than on the streets of Bakubah, but Syverson has a bad habit of taking in strays of all kinds, no matter what demons may be after them. Pairing: Captain Syverson x OFC Word Count: 2K Warnings: Death. Yeah, I said it.  A/N: You guys are the absolute best! I apologize in advance for what I’m about to do (my body count is WAY too high at this point, but a niche is a niche I guess, right?) CHAPTER 1 | CHAPTER 2 | CHAPTER 3 |

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If pain and suffering were library books, Syverson was way past due. 

Despite all the extra work he’d put in, Sy slept fitfully. Sasha's presence had more than once awoken memories of his past and now, without his consciousness to act as a filter, his mind was having a field day as it dragged him down memory lane. He tossed, turned, murmured and finally cried out in sheer terror as the most horrific image of his life came back in full, breath-taking force.

Syverson sat bolt upright as the moment played out, his body covered head to toe in sweat, eyes wide and wild as he reached for a gun that hadn't been there in years; not since the incident with the window.

He couldn't catch his breath, couldn't block out the image, and even though he looked awake, Sy was still very much caught in the grips of his nightmare; the tears streaming silently down his face and his mouth locked open in a hoarse scream were proof enough.

Though Sasha had taken a bit to get comfortable in a new bed, she’d fallen asleep without much issue once she settled. After only about two hours’ worth of sleep, Sy’s scream jolted her awake, startling her badly until her mind was able to make sense of what was happening. Wearing only the t-shirt she’d grabbed from his laundry and not bothering to put on the shorts, Sasha dashed across the hall, opening the door to find Syverson awake, but not at all present.

She’d never seen a man look so terrified in all her life, and while most would find it emasculating to be so scared, Sasha knew better. This was no ordinary fear; this was a haunting, one that had probably been with him for years. Her heart broke for him as she approached slowly, seeing the tears pouring from his blue eyes. 

“Sy, sweetheart. Can you hear me? You’re having a nightmare, babe. Wake up.” 

Being careful about where she stood, Sasha slowly reached out and smoothed a hand over Sy’s curls, willing that her touch would bring him back to reality. 

Her voice and touch, so calm and soft in the midst of all the violence and screaming in his mind, snapped Syverson out of his nightmare and he took a gasping breath, looking and seeing her as if for the first time. Shaking his head to clear it, Syverson quickly wiped his eyes and tried for a smile to assure her he was okay.

"Hey, sorry. Did I wake you? I'm really sorry," he whispered, sniffling as he opened his bedside drawer and grabbed the black leg brace he hadn’t needed in a few weeks. Syverson's hands shook violently as he strapped the appliance around his leg, everything in his posture screaming of fear. He needed his pills, but they were down the hall and that meant attempting to walk. Syverson felt like kicking himself for being so stupid; the first time he had company in ages and he forgot to prepare the most basic of necessities in order to keep the night quiet for them.

"You should go back to bed, mama. Get some rest. I'll be fine, just need to grab a glass of water, then I'm back to sleep," he added, his eyes pleading with her to accept the bold-faced lie; it was the only area of his life that Syverson ever hid from anyone and he was certain he'd be able to hide it from her as well.

Sasha didn’t wait for Sy to continue telling his version of the truth and instead grabbed his water glass and made her way to the upstairs bathroom, filling it up with ice-cold water straight from the tap. Despite feeling like she was overstepping her bounds, she searched through the medicine cabinet until she found a prescription bottle with a valid date and Sy’s name on it. Relieved that it was Tramadol and not something stronger, Sasha returned and handed both over to Sy, her eyes holding the same sadness his had earlier in the day. 

“You need anything else?” She asked, cupping his face with her hand and  trying to keep the hurt out of her voice. Sasha felt like a chump for opening up to him about her past when it was clear he was unwilling to do the same and felt the need to hide so bad that he would lie about it just to pretend all was okay. 

Her hand on his face caused a hitch in his breath, Syverson nearly losing his composure once again at the gentility of her touch. He fought tooth and nail not to lean into it, rest his head on her palm and just let go as she had earlier; he was a man, and a soldier to boot. Soldiers weren't supposed to cry and they certainly weren't supposed to talk about how they felt or what they'd seen and done in far away countries.

Sitting there with Sasha, Syverson felt like letting it all spill out, laying his soul bare, and facing the consequences head on. His brain got the best of him however, and he kept mum. No use in terrifying the poor girl; she'd done nothing to deserve hearing about the atrocities he'd witnessed and done overseas.

"N-no, you just go on back to bed. No use in stayin' awake on my account," he murmured, the words sounding almost like a mantra; in fact, he had said them on more than one occasion to his own family. They'd all just looked at him with sad eyes, shaken their heads, and left the room. Syverson wasn't sure, but it didn't seem like Sasha would be so easy to shoo off.

His further distancing only opened the fresh wound in Sasha’s heart a little further, making her feel miniscule and stupid for being as candid as she had. It was an age-old double standard, one she’d thought would bypass her interactions with Sy, given how open he’d been all day. Whatever it was that plagued him, the walls he’d built to protect himself were high and steadfast. Sighing, she stood, raking a hand through her hair as she met his gaze.

“If we’re going to pretend that this never happened, that you don’t look like you’ve seen a ghost, then fine. But don’t expect me to open up about anything else in my life, if you’re unwilling to do the same. I’m not a little girl, Sy. I can handle whatever it is you seem so keen to hide away from the world.” 

Turning on her heel, Sasha gripped her stomach, ignoring her baby’s kicking as she began to make her way back to bed, wishing Sy wasn’t so stubborn.

It was the same old song over again and frankly, Syverson was tired of being the one to press play. His face crumpled and he let out a sob without being able to hold it back. When he spoke, his voice came out tinny and weak, but the desperation in it was as clear as the word was simple.

"Sasha!"

Syverson hoped it was enough, hoped she'd turn back and let him apologize, let him give in a little and let go the way she had. It wasn't easy for him to relinquish the control he usually kept so tightly bound on the subject, but he'd seen how his pushing had hurt her and Syverson didn't want to be the reason she walked out the door in the morning, never to come back.

She’d never heard her name called with such need, such distress before, and it stopped Sasha in her tracks. Born with a touch of a stubborn streak herself, Sasha had only planned on standing in the doorway to hear him out, but one look at Syverson’s tear-strewn face, the pleading in his eyes, and she moved as though being pulled by a magnet, sitting at his side in a matter of moments, all thought of being bull-headed forgotten. 

Syverson's tears subsided as Sasha sat down, his eyes red-rimmed and still filled with fear as he took her hand and held it in both of his.

"I'm sorry. I'm not used to havin' people around, especially for this crap. It's not somethin' I like talkin' about and people don't like hearin' it, so I was tryin' to spare ya. Didn't mean to push you away, sweetheart," he sniffled, his thumbs rubbing circles over her knuckles before he kissed them gently.

“Were you dreaming about whatever happened that sent you to the VA? I saw the album downstairs,” Sasha confessed, her free hand stroking through his curls, her face dipping to catch his gaze as Sy lowered his head, shaking it.

“Nah, that was just an IED that I had the misfortune of drivin’ over. It’s why I still have a prescription and a rod in my leg,” he answered, Sy clearing his throat before shaking his head once more, clearing the persistent whispers from his mind that told him to shut up and not talk about it any further.

“My nightmares are only ever about one thing. One little girl, actually. Her name was Zakiya. She was the sweetest lil’ thing. Big bright eyes, so expressive, she just put a smile on yer face immediately.” 

Sitting back against his headboard, Sy held Sasha’s hand a little firmer, his own trembling, although whether from pain or anguish, Sasha couldn’t be sure. 

“We used to drive through her village every time we left the wire. Back then, we always carried candy bars and extra MREs with us, mostly for the kids, but for people in need too. She’d come running every time she saw us comin’ through, like we were the ice cream man or somethin’. Anyhow, she took a shine to me. Would always ask for me to hold her, ‘cause I was taller than anyone in the village and she liked seeing out over the horizon.” 

Sy blew out a breath, his body beginning to rock back and forth as tears shimmered in his eyes once more. Sasha’s concern grew, her other hand covering the one already gripped in her palm. 

“We didn’t speak a lick ‘a each other's languages, but we somehow made it work. She always had a smile and a big ol’ hug for my neck. She wouldn’t let go until it was time for us to move along and even then, she stayed behind wavin’ like it was her favorite thing to do. She couldn’t ‘a been more than five or six.

“One day, we get there and she’s not there, waitin’. Instead, she’s in her father’s arms. He was a village elder ‘a some sort, and for whatever reason, had got it in his head that his wife and Zakiya had both dishonored him by being nice to us. Just for being nice, friendly...normal. By the time we got there, he’d already killed his wife...But he was waitin’ for us to show up before he killed Zakiya.” 

Sasha’s own heart clenched, knowing what was coming would be horror on a level she never hoped to experience first-hand, her sympathy and respect for Syverson going up exponentially as she steeled herself for the end of his worst nightmare. 

Sy kept his eyes on the mattress, his free hand picking at a loose thread in the bedding, terrified that after he told her everything, Sasha would never see him as the same man again. 

“I got on my knees for that man. Took off my helmet, my plates, everything. Told him to take me instead of her. I begged like the world was endin’ and I needed one more day. Our poor interpreter could barely keep up with me, I was talkin’ so fast.”

Scrubbing a hand over his face, Syverson let out a noise akin to a dying animal, folding himself in half for a moment before taking several rattling, deep breaths. 

“You know that famous shot of Jackie trying to catch Kennedy’s brain? He dropped her like a fuckin’ sack ‘a potatoes after he blew her head open, and all I could do was h-hold-” 

As a longing wail loosed itself from his lungs, Sy felt himself wrapped up in the fiercest hug he’d ever received. Sasha cupped the back of his head as her own tears slipped down her cheeks, unable to fathom how Sy had managed to go about his life with that sort of weight in his heart; she’d known men who’d taken their own lives for less.

“I’m so sorry, Sy,” Sasha whispered into his curls, her heart breaking at the way Syverson clung to her as though he were drowning. In a way, he was, Sasha wishing there was more she could do to help ease his suffering, though she wasn’t sure if anyone had ever even gotten this far with him before. 

“What happened to the elder?” She asked as she heard his breathing calm some. 

“I emptied a mag into his face.” Sy said resolutely, Sasha hearing no remorse in his voice, though she couldn’t blame him, given the circumstances. 

“No one in the village ever complained, not even his older kids. Think they were all afraid of him. We did them a favor. You don’t kill kids. Especially babies. You give ‘em kindness, compassion, love. That’s it. End of story. You hurt a child, you murder a child in cold blood like that? I put you in the ground, plain and simple.”

She held onto him, stroking his broad back, carding her fingers through his hair, letting him take the pain he’d held onto for so long and finally let some of it go. Though she knew he’d never truly recover from that day, Sasha hoped that finally talking about it to someone who wouldn’t judge or pity him, would make a small difference. 

His breathing slowed and Sasha gave him another squeeze, realizing something she hoped would help ease his pain further.

“For what it’s worth, Sy? If nothing else, you brightened that little girl’s day each time you saw her. You gave her a smile just like she gave you one. You were with her at the end and that’s what counts. She didn’t die alone. In a perfect world, she wouldn’t have died at all, but in the horror that was her final moments, she knew you were there. She knew.”

#henry cavill #captain syverson #syverson x ofc #captain syverson fic #fic #deathonyourtongueoriginals #willow run

[theskyexists]

thingy DOESN’T believe that synths will kill their human creators?? thats pure bullshit. of COURSE synths will kill humans in teh future if they attain consciousness that is LIKE that of humans.

also there’s no fucking way this premise makes sense bc the military would have gotten their hands on synths the moment they became capable of holding a gun and hitting shit with accuracy and walking securely through multiple terrains. never fucking mind asimov blocks

the next episode immediately goes back into also blaming mum hahahahaa. i mean it makes sense for the kids but narratively it’s quite....interesting. though ofc matts is right and Laura should deal with whatever hurt Tom is. in fact, that explains the way she’s so....bruised

‘yeah we care about her - how can you not get that’

FINALLY. toby truly lays down the law for his father!

I LOVE old american guy giving Niska lessons in humanity! YAY for the elderly!!

I LOVE OLD AMERICAN GUY NOW!!! HE’S NISKA’S DAD NOW!!!!!!

jezus. david elster was a fucking creep (niska) and a total shithead (fred). turns out that their creator was a terrible dad. this explains much about leo also.

wow Matts you’re being a little insensitive to your mother who’s divulging a SHITLOAD of childhood trauma. but i guess that’s just relating this stuff to what she knows. ok she - oh that’s so - aw

does Matilda REALISE that Max is just like Mia???? anyway - i LOVE MAX SO MUCH AAAAGGHGHGHGHGH.

she does

I love it when Max speaks and Leo is quiet for once. just keep him knocked out!!

oh no toby now you’re going too far. i am deeply concerned that the two men in this show will radicalise into synth-killers

ALL THIS TIME I ALSO THOUGHT SHE WAS HIS GIRLFRIEND BUT SHE WAS HIS MUM : ‘’‘‘‘(((( oh Nooooooo. it was already sad and tragic but now it’s 50x times more

has this synth-policewoman fallen in love with Pete?

‘you look young generally’ OH PETE lol. that made me like you again

DOES HUSBAND ACTUALLY MAKE THE FATAL CALL??? they’re really making him a villain!!!

it IS a trap huh...

SHE REVEALS HERSELF RIGHT AFTER SEX AND A DECLARATION OF LOVE. SHE’S SO CUTE AAAAA

but this was so stupid aahadhladsflajsdf. he’s much less than you think of him!!!

oh no now leo and max think it was the family that betrayed them!

why would he jump over when he could have used himself as a hostage

(had to look up whether he really dies just to be sure)

did they just expel a sister????

oh god

laura is such a pushover! what about Mia’s feelings?? she just heard that Mia had been inside Anita all along! then bring in the man that....well...it’s not rape in the moral....sense....but in the emotional sense it kinda was

she didn’t practice trigger safety??? POLICE SYNTH WOMAN?? i guess she really is a cop

i knew american dad was dead the moment Niska and he bonded. i love this series! that sounded like sarcasm but i mean that i love the characters and the story.

NOT GEORGE!!! NOT GEORGE!!!! im actually crying

ah - Fred is leo’s BIG brother

‘I was there the whole time’ OH DAMMNNN MIA!!!! balaghglabalghghagh stop

Laura and Mia are becomign real friends!!!!!!!!!!!

Matty didn’t MAKE leo show her. lol.

FRED YOU’RE NOT CLEAN!!!!! he implanted something!!!! or....is fred aligned with him after all? has he been infected somehow?

at least Mia is trying to keep things together.

they are making Joe suffer for his stupidity. not very cathartic tho

Mia desperately tryin to stitch the whole human fam back together. LOL

oh that’s poor timing. Niska you damn zealot

why does Kate keep making the wrong decisions. stupid bastard

teh opening theme is great!

DID LAURA THE LAWYER JUST GIVE UP HER PHONE?? ARE THE COPS ALLOWED TO DO THAT

Joe up for redemption!

OH SO HOBB IS ACTUALLY WORSE THAN WHAT HE SEEMED. OH MY GOD!!!!!!!!!!! MAKE THE SLAVES CONSCIOUS AND KEEP THEM SLAVES!!!!!!

kill this man now.

KILL HOB! KILL HIM!!!! NARRATIVE KILL HIM!!!! they really baited the audience with Hobb possibly being more sympathetic than it seemed. NO HE”S ACTUALLY MORE EVIL THAN YOU THINK!!!!!!!!!!

Kate’s so stupid. I hope she gets to be a hero

Pete’s up for redemption!

Come ON Kate!!!!!!!!! jezus was living the life of a simple cop and finally sleeping with the guy you love really SO BAD? they’ve had a worse life on the run than Kate

oh her name is KAREN??? lol i thought it was kate.

why would Hobb be concerned about it becoming clear that these synths have feelings and shit. wouldn’t that help with the marketing? i mean it is a risk what with Niska having killed a man

he’s letting them go entirely?? he knows he’s got Fred so he’s like - eh, ill just lean on this family first

does Karen understand the implications of Hobb having a failsafe?? will she TRULY do anything to stop suffering from proliferating - because this TRULY will cause suffering

I guess fred has been instructed not to kill himself - or reveal himself.

TOBY YOU GOTTA REALISE - Help Fred tell the rest. oh god i dont want to lose fred....wait where’s max. i didn’t see anybody carrying him around. also - wasn’t his brain falling apart?wasn’t that time-sensitive? aren’t they GRIEVING?

Lol - why would they not have made copies? They should have told him- if you bother us again we transmit to the internet immediately. they could do that easily!

Oh max can walk again

these fringes are so BRITISH AHAahaah

Karen is a total wildcard. only Pete being in danger will help though i think

Joe doing a very last Bastard Husband thing by being offended that his wife didn’t reveal her horrible childhood trauma to him as some kind of insult to HIM

AAAAAAAAAAGHHHHHHHHH JOE WHY

‘you didn’t want to hurt us’? what

‘i can’t do anything’ - uh you can bring Mia and Max back to life but you can’t free Fred??? FRED!!!!!!!!???

FUCK! the next goal in this whole series is to free FRED!!!!!!!!!!

why the fuck would Niska walk in heels

couldn’t they restore fred the same way as they’re gonna try and restore max????

why doesn’t he tell Karen about how Hobb has enslaved Fred??? hello? and wants to use the code?? this last bit is a bit strange. what convinced her?

she’s an ideological character but she was moved by emotion?

oh they canjust share - no wires or anything

Karen realised she couldn’t rely on Hobb to kill them - so she went out alone to kill them. aha.

what. that was. out of nowhere

why the fuck did she go from ultimate KILL YOU ALL to - alright then let’s do this in one second. how extremely poorly written or directed or both

what?

she wanted to be part of the fam. then she left. the laura tells leo to let her go. whY?? this last bit is so STUPID

all they need is some coloured lenses and they can fit right in. just GET SOME COLOURED LENSES LOL

i know they trust laura now but like - the program is on a harddrive in her hands - but Hobb knows she’s associated with them. WHY would you put it in her hands. They know what hobb can do with it.

isn’t leo ever gonna say soryy for leaving his adult/9yearold sister in a brothel?

sophie woke up at an opportune moment

leave an android in the corner of a USED church....THEY SHOULD BURY HIM SOMEWHERE. THAT’S BETTER THAN BEING A GODDAMN SLAVE

PETE TOOK OFF HIS GLASSES TO LOOK YOUNGER FOR KAREN AHAHAHAHA

it’s funny - the synths can’t cry but their eyes sure can glisten.....

HOBB JUST LEFT THE FAMILY ALONE AFTER THAT???? WHAT LOL. he knows what Karen is and. ok this last episode was a mess. but everything that came before was great. and the theme is also great

the character stuff in this is great. well. not this episode bc like. WHAT THE FUCK WAS THAT ?? THAT RECONCILIATION WITH JOE WAS SO FUCKING WEIRD. HE FOCUSED ON HIMSELF AND THEN -- she didn’t want to hurt the fam? what??? what the fuck are you on about ???

anway things did not at all come together.

#my stuff #vidi #humans #should i watch on??? #is season 2 any good??? #this last episode does not spell a good basis

[vxmorpheus]

The Crossroads to the beginning. P1

Tw - blood, and mentions of miscarriages

LONG post

"I... just don't think we can do this anymore, Eli. We can't just keep pretending nothing's happened," Michael spoke solemnly as he packed his clothes into his suitcase.

Eli stood by the door, fighting tears back, "you don't have to leave though! We can work things out, maybe-"

"No! ... no, Eli. We've tried working this out for 5 years, but you keep miscarrying! I-"

"Excuse me?! Are you blaming this on me?! It's not like I'm fucking trying to! I want a child just as bad as you do!"

He shouted back, "well it sure as hell doesn't seem like you want a kid!"

"So, you're saying I'm doing this on purpose?!"

"Yes! I don't think you ever wanted one in the first fucking pla-"

Eli slapped Michael hard. Hard enough that it jerked his head to the left, "get. Out."

He put his hand on his face, "Eli, I-"

"GET. OUT. GET OUT RIGHT NOW! LEAVE!" Eli screamed out. Michael jumped in surprise, then scrambled to close his suitcase and left quickly. Eli followed him to the door, slamming it shut behind him. She put her back against the door and slid down until she was sitting on the floor with her face in her hands. She sobbed into her hands before bringing her legs up, hugging them to herself for comfort. Eli didn't know how long she sat there crying, but by the time she got up, it was nighttime. She set a kettle onto the stovetop and walked to the window, looking out on the city... it felt much more empty and quiet now with Michael gone. "What am I going to do...? How am I going to pay rent...? I can't work..." the kettle cut off her ramblings to herself. She poured some of the hot water into a mug and put a teabag into it. Eli made her way to bed, walking by the spare bedroom that was meant for Michael and her baby... that was never to come. When she stood in the doorway of their bedroom, she stared at the empty king bed for a long time before turning around and going to the couch. She couldn't bear to sleep in that bed all alone.

Over the next couple of months, she and Michael got divorced. Which was easier than expected given there was no child to fight for custody of. She had also found out that he had actually been cheating on her for 3 months before he left her. She was pissed, not at the other woman, but rather at him. He was a coward. He was a liar. He never stood by Eli's side after each miscarriage. She was always left to heal by herself, to take care of herself even when she wasn't supposed to be walking and bending. She resented and hated Michael, she was actually happy she never had a kid with him... but she still wanted a child.

The money she saved and the money she got from the divorce helped her pay rent for some months while trying to figure out what she would do for income. One night, she was binge-watching a show with paranormal/supernatural themes and one of the characters went to a crossroads and summoned a demon then made a deal to save another character that was in a coma. Eli sat up slowly and thought, "if... maybe... I can do that... and make a deal for a job..." she grabbed her laptop and changed the channel to something else. She began doing research into crossroad demons, she had heard of them before but only for famous people. While she did research, the news played a recap of the election results... "Gabriel Kenward is the confirmed winner for governor. He and his wife are goi..." Eli zoned the tv out while reading steps on how to go about summoning a crossroads demon. She read up on every single website she could handle, even the ones making fun of people for looking or trying to summon a demon. Her eyelids felt heavy as she was reading a website specifically made for the supernatural practices, she could only read two paragraphs before she passed out on the couch. She felt herself falling in her dream, making her jerk awake. Eli sighed, annoyed, and got up, setting the laptop onto the coffee table. She walked around the couch to the kitchen to get some water, but... something felt off. She paused at her refrigerator and looked around. Everything looked normal but the air felt different for some reason. Eli shook her head and grabbed a glass, putting it in the water dispenser on her fridge. There was a pause... then liquid poured it into her glass before she yanked it away. Eli stared in horror at her fridge before looking at the glass, which had blood in it.

"You going to drink that?" A voice behind her asked humorously. Eli whipped around to see... something... sitting on the kitchen island. It was like her brain couldn't understand what she was looking at. "Didn't your mom tell you staring is rude?"

"I-I... wh...what are you?"

"What you're looking for," it took the cup from her and downed the blood, making Eli shudder in disgust.

"W-What do you mean?"

"Oh please, dear, you can't be that stupid."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. I'm a demon, idiot."

"I am not an idiot! How the fuck did you get into my house?"

"Hah! I'm not inside your house. Well, not in the traditional sense. I'm in your dream. This is a dream, sweetheart."

"Don't fucking call me sweetheart. What do you want."

"Ooh feisty, I like that. It's not what I want, it's what you want," it jumped off the island counter.

"You are not what I'm wanting to summon."

"Yes, yes, I know. But, I can tell you how to properly summon a crossroads demon. Just be sure to mention me to him, hm?"

"What else do you want?" Eli snapped back.

It held its hands up, "oh, my dear, nothing. I just want to be mentioned. Might get me a promotion."

"... a promotion...? What the fuck? What does that mean?"

"It doesn't matter, just listen..." it leaned into her and whispered.

Eli sat up quickly, the sun shining into the living room and her phone blaring loudly to inform her that her friend was calling. She picked up the phone and talked to her friend for a bit before agreeing to meet up at a cafe. She quickly got ready and called a taxi, thinking about her dream the entire time. By the time she was snapped out of her thought, her friend was shaking her arm. Eli looked at her friend surprised, "what?"

Her friend gave her a concerned look, "how are you holding up? You're really out of it today." She took a sip of her coffee, "like... what's goin' in your brain right now?"

"What would you want if you made a deal with a crossroads demon?"

"Oh, you finally got to that episode? Hmm... money or fame. What about you?"

"To be in good health and have a fun and fulfilling career..."

"Huh, don't you want a kid still? I thought you'd ask for something like that," she froze for a second. "Sorry, that came out wrong. I-"

"No, no... you're right... I never thought of that..." Eli sat back in her chair and idly sipped at her frappe.

"Uh... anyway... h..."

Eli had zoned out for the rest of the day until night fell. She gathered everything she needed to summon this... demon... The idea of summoning a demon made adrenaline pump through her body. She wasn't sure if it was fear or excitement... or maybe both? Eli put everything in a bag and grabbed a butcher's knife before heading out. She looked at her cellphone GPS where she marked down a crossroads that was relatively outside of town and away from busy streets. Eli shoved the butcher's knife into her bag when the taxi drove up to her. Eli showed the man where she wanted to go and he gave her a weird look that said 'ok but why?' He took her to where she said and asked her as she was walking into the dark, "are you ok lady? Are you sure this is where you wanted?"

"Yes, I'm fine. Leave," he quickly left as Eli made her way crossroads. She opened a box she brought. "Ok... to do this successfully..." She took out the knife and took a deep breath before cutting her thumb a bit, smearing the blood onto her own photo and onto the white yarrow flowers. Eli closed the big and dug a hole, burying the box in the crossroads.

Nothing happened for a bit, making her the slightest bit embarrassed, but her body got the chills like something was behind her. Eli was the type to hate being scared in such a manner, so, not caring that this was probably a demon, she spoke, "I swear to fucking God, if I turn around and you are right behind me, I will not hesitate to punch you." She heard a quiet chortle and then some steps backing away from her. Eli was prepared to see something monstrous and scary, but... this guy was... normal looking? It looked just like a man in a nice suit with silvery-white hair.

"You actually did this in a proper way... so I guess I can't trick you too much... how may I be of service, love?" His eyes flashed red for a moment and he gave a sharp-toothed grin as he leaned back into a tree.

"Love? Did you just call me love?" The demon nodded, "don't fucking call me that, you mean nothing to me. You are only a means to an end."

"Oh my, so rude to somebody who's just tryin' to help," he looked slightly taken aback by her blatant honesty but tried to keep a straight and cool face. "Who told you how to do the summoning correctly? It's a rare treat."

"I don't fucking remember its name. It was a demon that came into my dream and told me to do it this way."

"Ohhh, my friend... well... I guess I did promise him a promotion if he got someone for me... anyway! What is it you need?" He pushed himself from the tree and took a step towards Eli, an evil look of amusement in his eyes. Eli held the knife like she was ready to fight someone to the death, "love, even if I wanted you to kill me or severely injure me, you wouldn't be able to. Humans can only exorcise demons and harm them with religious artifacts."

"I don't give a shit, I'm putting up a fight whether it matters or not," she said through clenched teeth. He continued walking towards her nonetheless, making her back away slowly until, in the most cliche way possible, she felt a tree blocking her path backward. He got up close, his body touching her body, and looked down at her with a smile.

He grabbed her chin and made her look at him, "did you just summon me here to fuck around with me, or are we making a deal, dear?" He grunted and looked down, seeing the knife stab into his left side. He looked back at Eli with amusement, "I told you, you can't hurt me. You have no power in this situation. Also, this was a brand new suit, ya know, now I have to take it in to get it fixed."

"Let me make it more expensive for you then," she took the knife out of his side and stabbed him again in a different spot. Then she took it out again and cut his shirt, cutting him in the process.

"Stop," he spoke aggressively, her antics starting to get on his nerves. He pushed himself away from her and looked down at his ruined suit, "are you fucking kidding me? Come on."

"Don't get into my space without consent then," she snapped.

"Humans and their consent... jeez..."

"Excuse me? Listen here you little shit," she marched towards him. He took a step back in surprise by her boldness. Eli was so much smaller than he was AND she was just a human, so why was he slightly scared? "Consent is important to have, it makes it so both parties are enjoying whatever they are doing. If one party says no, it means no. Say, 'no means no', right now."

"What on this forsaken p-"

"Say it. Right now," she held the knife up at him. There was silence between them, just eye contact. They stared at each other for a long time... it could've just been 30 seconds or it could've been 10 minutes. Time was insignificant to the demon and the human before him didn't seem to care either. She was going to keep going. Nothing was going to stop her from whatever her goal was, not even him being an asshole.

Holy Hell... she's... beautiful... what the fuck...? He thought to himself. "No means no," he finally spoke and broke the eye contact.

"Damn right," she only slightly lowered the knife, watching him with suspicion, which she had every right to do.

"L-Look, lady... I do not have any intentions of doing anything to you. Not anymore, at least. Just... what do you want?" He spoke softly to her.

"I want..." she lowered the knife all the way down. "I want a child."

He choked on nothing, "w-what!? A- what?! A child?! You could literally have a bunch of money or fame or the love of your life or-"

"I want to have a child," she spoke more sternly and with determination. He was beyond confused. Usually, humans always wanted the same things; money, power, love, etc.... but a child? He's never heard a human ask for a child. Having a child because she wants to bring a new life into the world... was that selfish? Humans are only selfish beings... was there selfishness in this request?

"But why? Just go have one yourself or like-" he stopped speaking, seeing tears in her eyes. "I-It's not-! It's just-! Fuck! I don't know!"

Eli sniffled, "do you really think I haven't tried to have a child of my own? Do you think I would just summon a demon just because I could? You have no idea what I've been through to have a child of my own! I-"

Suddenly arms wrapped around her, strong arms that felt... comforting and held her close, "I-I... You're right... I-... I have no idea what you've been through. But... I can tell that death follows you... so, I can gather an idea of what's happened... but I can't ever truly understand how you're feeling." He made a surprised sound at himself. Why was he comforting a human? Why was he being so nice? He was nearly 6,000 years old and here he was... hugging and comforting some human woman he's just met. He expected to be stabbed by Eli again, but nothing happened besides the sound of the knife clattering to the dirt. Now was his chance. He could do anything to her and she... 'no means no... no means no... no means no...' he repeated in his head. He felt her face shove into his chest and heard her sob loudly. He looked up above the trees at the stars and the moon, some clouds drifting by slowly. The demon rubbed her back idly while glaring at the sky. 'What are you doing to me. What are you planning', he thought into the air, directed at the big man himself. After some time, Eli pulled away and apologized, "no, no... you don't have anything to apologize for. I-If anything... I should be apologizing to you."

"Hah... a demon apologizing..." she sniffled and bent down to pick the knife up, he put his hand onto hers, keeping her from lifting it.

"I'm sorry," he said to her quietly and then took his hand away. She stood up and looked at him with surprise, but there was still suspicion in her eyes. Eli slowly put the knife away into her bag while watching him carefully for any movements. He looked down to the ground, "I don't intend on harming you in any way, but I understand why you're suspicious of me... I still want to grant your wish, so to speak... make a deal."

Eli perked up, eyes wide, "w-wait, really?"

"Yes... I'm sure it's against the rules though... but... I'll just break one rule. For you."

"So... I get to have a child... one that'll live a good long life?"

"I cannot guarantee the good part, but a long life I can."

"What is the ultimatum? 10 years?"

"Ah... see... that's the issue... since I'm breaking the rules for y-this... I have to cut it down to 5 years... n-now I-"

"Deal."

"Excuse me? We haven't even talked about how and when and all that other stuff."

"I don't care, just... deal. I'll take it."

"It's really reckless to just run into a deal without finalizing everything first. A demon could pull tricks and make terrible rules..." he put his hands together and then slowly opened them, a scroll appearing in flames in his hands.

"Well... are you going to do that?"

"No," he untied the scroll.

"Alright then... where do I sign?"

"W-What? You're just going to believe me just like that? What if I'm lying? I'm a fucking demon for hell's sake!"

Eli stared into his eyes for a short while before bringing them down to the scroll, "I trust you."

The demon stared at her for a while, feeling his non-existent soul swell, "...alright... so be it... sign here with your blood." She nodded and took out the knife, it still had black demon blood on it. She poked the tip of her pointer finger, using it as a way to sign. After she finished, the demon looked at her signature, "Elisa... a very nice name... joyful... it seems about right."

"Just call me Eli. What do you go by?"

The demon rolled the scroll closed, tying it up once again, then making it burst into flames, "the deal is done. Just... call me Sam."

"Alright, Sam it is then... what happens now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Like... how am I going to have a kid? It just happens or like..."

"A-Ah, right... in the traditional way humans have children."

"Should I go to a club, a dating app, or like... what?"

Sam felt the hairs on his neck stand up, "no! er... I mean... a club would probably be the best fit..."

"Is it already determined who's going to be the father?"

"You see, this would've been stuff to talk about before you signed the deal. Well... nnnnnnnnnoo-yes. Yes, the father is already determined."

"Can I ask who it is? Like what's his name?"

"You'll know it when you see him."

"...Alright..."

"Why are you not afraid?" Sam blurts out. He clears his throat, "I mean... like not afraid to go into the dark, in a place you don't even know, and summon a fucking demon."

"I don't have anything to lose," Eli said flatly. Sam winced slightly, "I need to get home. It'll be a long walk home... thank you for helping me even though I stabbed you a couple times."

"N-Now wait a second. You don't have a ride? Or a car? What about a taxi or whatever that taxi service thing is called on your cellphone."

"It uh... it died. I'm just walking... I don't drive either, so," Eli shrugged and turned away, about to make her way out of the trees. Sam grabbed her arm and pulled her back, accidentally(?) a bit too close, "what the hell? Let me leave."

"No! I... I'll take you home. There are weirdos and bad people driving at night on the highway, I can feel the sin..." he lied.

"What? ... I... uhm... I guess... but how are you going to take me home? I don't imagine you have a car, do you?"

"No, I have something better. I'm a fucking demon. Er... may I hold you closer for safety reasons?"

Eli raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms, "just don't try anything with me."

"I won't," he took a deep breath, pulling her closer to his body while he repeated 'no mean no' in his head. He closed his eyes, "close your eyes and don't open them until I say so, no matter what you hear." He opened his eyes and looked down at her, she had her eyes squeezed shut. He nodded and mover his left art out and forward, holding it above his head before making a slow cutting motion downwards. A rip in reality formed, the inside of the rip showed hell and its lovely glow of flames. He stepped into the rip while holding Eli as close as possible, "do not open your eyes." He repeated as the sounds of screaming and torture began. She buried her face into his side and started holding onto him as well. Again, his non-existent soul swelled up and he gave Eli a comforting squeeze. Sam successfully made it to the other rip that was made without running into any other demons. He stepped through that rip and looked at a door to a house he presumed was Eli's house. "You can open your eyes."

Eli peeked an eye open, "where..." she looked at the door, "home... where did you take me?"

"What do you mean?"

"The screaming place," she pointed behind her and started to turn.

Sam panicked, sealing the rip shut immediately, "You can't look at it! It's dangerous! It could damn your soul, trap you there, all sorts of things could happen!"

"Why would that matter? Am I not damned anyway for making a deal with you? I know I go to hell after the 5 years are up."

"W-Well yes... but no... I... If that happens you won't have a kid!"

"Fuck... yeah..." she looked down at the ground, a small smile playing on her lips, "this isn't like some fucked up dream right?"

"N-No. What? Why would it?"

"It just feels unreal..." Eli pulled out of Sam's hold and walked up to the door, digging the keys out of her pocket. Sam reached out slightly, her not noticing at all.

"Well... it's real... I'm glad you're happy," he followed after her.

She unlocked the door and started turning around, "I really am... I really am happy." Eli jumped slightly and looked up at Sam who was behind her. They stared at each other for a long time before he dove in and kissed her, pushing her slightly against the door. Eli's eyes widen in surprise before closing them and kissing Sam back. She reached behind her and grabbed at the air for the door handle, finally getting it and opening the door. They pulled away from each other, both of them flustered, "t-thank you, S-Sam... maybe see you again?"

"A-Ah... y-yeah... of course..." he rubbed the back of his head, "I'd... I'd love to see you again..." He knew it was against the rules to see her again. But... what's two broken rules to a list of nearly 400? He started walking down the stairs. She gave a kind smile, closing the door slowly before pausing and opening it again.

"Sam."

"Oh! Yes?" He turned around, surprised to see her at the top of the steps, eye level with him.

Eli grabbed his tie and pulled him to her slightly, "come here."

"O-Oh? Oh! Ohhh..." he let himself be dragged into the house. "Eli... is this... like... I don't want to get the wrong idea... but..."

"Maybe, play your cards right," she said playfully, still pulling him by the tie. "Take your shirt and coat off," Sam did so quickly, handing them to her, "go sit in the kitchen." He nodded and went there as she did whatever with his shirt and coat. She came out with a white box and walked over to him, "you said I couldn't hurt you because I'm human, right?"

"Yeah... physically."

"Well... that doesn't matter to me. I don't care if you heal faster than normal or it doesn't hurt or anything. It's the principle of the matter," Eli opened the box and pulled out some first aid supplies.

"Eli, you don't-"

"I want to! I... I want to," she got a wet washcloth and started cleaning the dried black blood. The room was in comfortable silence for a good long time before Eli broke it, "I'm sorry for stabbing you twice, cutting your chest, and ruining your new suit..."

"Yo-"

"But you kind of deserved it."

Sam blinked and looked down at her, she was concentrating on the left side stab wound. He laughed, "yeah... I kind of did." He watched her work carefully as they made idle conversation. She was treating him like a person and not some creature that could tear your body to pieces... and he... kind of liked it. Demons never really talked to each other, let alone have personal conversations. Sam put his hand on his chest in surprise, feeling a throb of something or some emotion he's never felt before or hasn't felt in a very very long time.

"Are you ok?" Eli looked up at him with... worry in her eyes?

Sam tore his eyes away from her, "Eli, I need you to get away from me, right now." He warned.

"But, I'm just trying to help you. Why are you getting hostile?"

"Eli, p-please, get away from me. Please. I don't want to hurt you."

"Now you're threatening me?" She stood up and crossed her arms, "in my own house?"

"Eli, you aren't understanding what I'm saying. I need you to get away from me. For your own health and safety," Sam started shaking. "Please, I'm begging you."

"Tell me what's wrong. What's happening?"

"For fucks sake, Eli!" He got off the chair and took a step towards her, "I need you to... get... away from me... right now. Go! Get out of my sight! Hide!"

"H-hide?" Eli took a step back and looked at Sam closely, "o..oh... Oh!" She spun on her heel and ran down the hall and to the master bedroom. 'Ok... closet... no that's too obvious... bathroom... again too obvious... this is so stupid,' she thought to herself as she starts dragging herself under her bed. She gets into a comfortable position where she is one-hundred percent under the bed with no extremities poking out so she'd get yanked out like some horror movie. She steadied her breathing and waited... and wait...

...and waited

.........and waited...

She started getting tired and her body was aching from the way she was laying under the bed... but everything seemed clear. Maybe he was good now? She very slowly, inch by inch, as quiet as possible, pulled herself out from under the bed. She sighed once she was free from under the bed and got onto her hands and knees to push herself up. A sinister laugh came from behind her, "I was wondering how long you were going to stay under there."

She slowly turned around, seeing Sam laying on her bed, "S-Sam...? How did you get in here and onto the bed without me knowing?"

He shrugged, "I'm a demon, love. We have our ways."

"Sam, please... let's just go back to the kitchen so I can finish-"

"Mm, no," he stood up.

"Sam... please..." She slowly stood up.

"You're driving me crazy, you know that? What are you doing to me? What are you planning?" He walks up to Eli and pushes her back onto the floor easily, putting a foot on her chest to keep her down, "tell me."

"I-I'm not doing anything! I'm just trying to be nice!"

"Nobody is nice for no reason. What do you want?"

"There are people who are nice for no reason other than to m-" he pushed his foot down to make her stop talking.

"You are somethin' else, aren't ya?" He drops down to the floor to join her there. Sam reaches over to touch Eli's face, but she swats his hand away. He then grabs her wrist, her other hand coming and trying to get his hand off, only for him to grab that hand too, "just let me show you affection."

"No! Let go of me!" Eli shouts at him, trying to kick him. Sam moves and sits on her thighs, pinning each hand in its perspective side by her head.

"Why?" His eyes were wide and glowing in the dark, his pupils were dilated to their fullest amount as he looked down at Eli.

"Because I said no! No means-!"

"No. No... No!" Sam let go of Eli and threw himself off of her, wildly rubbing his eyes, "fuck! God damn it! Fucking... I'm sorry, Eli... I'm sorry... fuck, I'm so stupid."

"What is the fucking hell was that?!"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry... fuck..." Sam stood up and kept rubbing his eyes, "this hasn't happened in 4,000 years..." He walked over to Eli, holding his hand out.

Eli hesitantly took it, Sam pulling her up, "ok, but what was that."

"I... in the past... it's only happened once to another woman... I... I killed her because I couldn't control myself. I was only 1,900 years."

"So, you would've killed me?"

"I'm sure you'd probably want to die after what happens..."

"What would have happened?" Sam gave her a look, "Oh... right... yeah... but why would I want to die?"

Sam laughed nervously, "let's not Uhm... talk about what happens, ok? It's... I... no, let's not talk about that."

"Uhhh..." Eli gave him a side-eye, "alright then... we won't talk about it... for now." Sam nodded and stared at the ground, "come on... let's finish cleaning your stabs. I would've stabbed you again if I had a knife."

"I know..." Sam said. Eli took his hand and dragged him to the kitchen, "why are you not kicking me out of your house?"

"I'll do that after I clean everything up," Eli looked back at him with a smile. Sam just stared for a moment before giving her a genuine and kind smile.

She changed him and he could feel it by the pounding in his chest.

#scp #scp foundation #a bright life #oc lore #scp original characters #scp original character #scp oc's #scp ocs #scp oc #scp rp blog #scp roleplay #scp rp #scp researcher #oc #researcher oc #ocs #my ocs #writing #oc rp #oc roleplay #oc rp blog #Dr V #Dr Morpheus #lore #scp oc tale #creative writing #oc tale

[jd-johndeacon-or-jackdaniels]

Don’t you hear my call though you’re many years away - chapter 8

A/N: I have no clue of the word count, and I don’t care

Warnings: Fluff and angst

Summary: Y/N and John go on a date, again a slight filler chapter to build up to the next two!



“We’ll be on foot tonight, sorry about that” John said shyly as we walk out of the inn.

“I’m fine with it” I replied, leaning in closer to him, wrapping my arm around his.

As we walked, he caught me up on his day, and how he and his friend had been able to repair the car.

“I like tinkering” he said, almost bashfully.

“Being able to repair something has to be gratifying. I can barely pump gas” I joked, making him laugh. I’d never forget that beautiful sounds.

Freddie has been right, John took me to a small fish and chip shop. The place was bustling and noisy, but the line moved quickly.

“Ever had fish and chips?” He asked as he leaned down to my ear, his breath fanning across my neck, causing me to shiver.

“No” I replied shaking my head, both in response to his question and to shake away the thoughts I was having.

“Hope you like it” he said as we move to the counter.

John order for us both, and as quickly as he ordered, he was handed 2 bundles of newspaper. Since his hands were full, he extended his elbow for my to hold on to as we made our way back outside. There were a few tables and chairs set outside the shop, John led us to one before handing me one of the bundles.

“Newspaper?” I asked as I inspected it.

“Yes, it’s easier to take with you, it soaks up some of the oil too” John replied before popping a fry in his mouth.

“How was your day with Mary?” he asked.

“Good. We went shopping, that’s where I found this top” I said, gesturing towards myself.

“It’s lovely on you.” He said sweetly.

“Thank you” I replied, feeling my cheeks heat up with a blush. “We had lunch and saw Freddie and Roger. It was nice, I enjoyed myself. But...I’m happier to be out with you.”

It was his turn to blush, as he cast his eyes towards his lap.

John suggested we take our food with us and head towards the theater, since it would take 15-20 minutes to walk there. We were seeing Willy Wonka and the Chocolate Factory, apparently it was new.

“These fries are really good” I said taking a bite of one.

“You mean chips” John laughed.

“Another one huh?” I laughed with him. “Then what do you call chips, the crunchy, thin type?”

“Crisps” he responded as he continued to laugh.

“Oh, that makes a lot of sense actually” I replied, finishing off my chip.

We made it to the theater in time to get our tickets and good seats.

“I’ve heard this film has scared some kids” he said as we waited for the movie to start.

“Really?” I asked. Maybe the boat scene, but even as a child I’d never found it scary, just weird.

“Think you’ll be frightened?” John asked playful as he put his arm around me and pull me to him.

“Not now” I replied kissing him quickly.

I didn’t focus much on the movie, my inner turmoil and monologue was much louder than the movie I’d seen more times than I could count.

My heart and brain weren’t on the same page, my brain telling me I was being reckless, I was tempting fate. While my heart begged to know him better. I was beyond stepping over the line now. I had sprinted past it and was running full speed ahead. But to what, exactly? It was clear this was more than friendship. Even without the time difference in the equation, what was this?

He caught me staring at him a few times, but only smiled. I admired his profile, his jawline, nose, the purse of his lips. My body warmed with desire, as my brain continued in protest. A protest I planned to ignore.

**

“Did you enjoy the movie?” I asked John as we left the theater.

“I did. I would ask you them same but your mind seemed to be elsewhere.” He said taking hold of my hand.

“Sorry about that” I replied, embarrassed.

“Let’s grab a drink, hm?” He suggested.

“Ok” I agreed, looking back up at him. I liked him in those platforms.

He leaned down and captured my lips with his for a quick kiss before he led me in the direction of the nearest pub.

**

We spent the rest of the evening learning more about one another, everything from favorite color to favorite childhood memory, favorite food to favorite subject in school.

“Who are you closets to in the band?” I asked before taking another sip of my drink, pacing myself.

“Um...I don’t know really. I haven’t known them for very long. But Freddie, even Roger.” He replied as he finished his beer. “What about your friends?”

“My best friend growing up, Anne, we don’t get to see each other much anymore, we’re in different schools. But we do te...”I caught myself, stumbling a bit I cleared my throat, texting wasn’t a thing yet. “Sorry, we do talk on the phone, but when we’re both home for the holidays, we spend as much time together as we can.”

He seemed unfazed by my fumble, “and your friends in school?”

“They’re like family to me now” I said honestly “I met Sierra first, and she’s like the sister I never had. She introduced me to her roommate Claire, who is one of the happiest, most positive people ever. And not in a annoying way. Sierra also introduced me to Ryan, who she grew up with. He’s basically a genius. And he introduced me to Dustin, his lab partner. Dustin and I could be halves of one whole person. We’re so much alike it’s frightening. They were all friends, and when Sierra took me in under her wing, they did too. Sometimes I feel like the kid sister, they’re all a year older.”

Laughing he replied “I’m the youngest of the group, so I understand that feeling.”

“I don’t think they see you like that” I reassured him.

“I doubt your friends see you as the kid either” he responded, smiling as he took my hand in his.

“And here...well...I suppose you’re my best friend” I smiled at my own joke.

“Am I? After only 3 days?” He said, a playful grin painting his face.

“You’re quickly becoming my best friend here” I said “and who knows...maybe more...”

His smile grew as he looked at me. I was playing with fire.

**

“I love how long the days are in the summer” I mused as we walked back to the inn.

“I enjoy them. Winter days are much too short” he replied “maybe you can come back in the winter though, brighten the grey days a bit.”

I swallowed thickly. The truth which simmered beneath the surface was now starting to boil, how long could I keep the lid on it before I was burned?

“Does it snow?” I asked looking up at him.

“Sometimes” he answers a bit softly. I wonder if he thought he said too much too soon.

“It doesn’t snow much where I live. I’d like seeing snow with you.” I said. He looked at me, his smile grew. The type that touches the eyes. The type you can’t help but smile back at. Even though my heart was aching at the lie. I’d never see snow with him.

**

“Thank you for a wonderful night, Deacy” I said outside the door to my room.

He took the key from me and opened the door.

“Thank you coming out with me tonight” he said, moving in closer. “We’ll be moving equipment to our rehearsal space tomorrow morning. But we should be done by lunch, would you meet me at the flat around noon?”

“I’d love to” I said, stepping even closer as he closed the distance between our lips.

One of his hands gently caressed my face as the other pulled me closer still. The kiss wasn’t rushed, it wasn’t urgent, but it wasn’t lazy either. There was feeling behind this kiss. Not of lust, something else. The type of kiss that held the promise of more. More kisses. More feelings. More of everything.

As I pulled away, he pulled me back from one more quick kiss.

“Goodnight” laugh, as I playfully shooed him towards the stairs.

“Wait” he said as he reached them, turning to face me “what will you do with your morning?”

“Sleep in!” I laughed, leaning against the door frame.

“Lie-in” he retorted.

“Oh not another one!” I laughed again “goodnight Deacy!”

“Goodnight” he laughed as he made his way down.

I was grinning from ear to ear as I closed the door behind me.

@queensdivas @liliah39 @leah-halliwell92 @painkiller80 @painandpleasure86 @deakys-chesthair @yourlocalmusicalprostitute @heybuddy-drabbles @queenwouldyourathers @mirkwoodshewolf @ixchel-9275 @deakysmisfire @thosequeenboys @tryin-her-best @johndeaconstoothgap @deacyspatronusisacheesetoastie @johndeaconshands @apailana @amethyst-serenade @deakysgurl @hellysthings

#john deacon #queen #deacy #70s #john deacon x y/n #john deacon x reader #john deacon x female reader #dont you hear my call #my fic #fan fic #traveling back in time #time travel #freddie mercury #brian may #roger taylor

[crimson25]

Bad dreams and a lullaby

By pamcake21

Shameless: Ian X Mickey

 Note: I’ve been on an Ian and Mickey binge lately and this story has been in my brain for a while. It is a little graphic in the beginning but it’s worth a read.

Summary: Mickey has a bad dream that shakes him to his core. Ian will try anything to calm him down, but only one idea comes to mind.

 It was dark. Mickey couldn’t see a thing. His head was pounding. It felt like someone hit him in the head with a pipe. He went to rub his temples but was stopped. Someone had tied him to a chair.

“What the fuck?” He said confused and angry. He looked around. It was too dark to see anything. He struggled to get out of the ropes.

“HEY! WHO THE FUCK DID THIS? GET ME OUT OF HERE!” He yelled into the dark. That’s when a light came on from the ceiling. Mickey looked around but still didn’t see anyone.

“Nice of you to join us Mr. Milkovich. It’s about time you woke up.” A voice said from behind him. Mickey didn’t recognize the voice.

“MOTHERFUCKER YOU BETTER GET ME OUT OF THIS CHAIR RIGHT NOW I SWARE TO GOD!” Mickey yelled, trying to be as intimidating as possible.

“Now why would I do that? The second I untie you you’ll beat me within an inch of my life, then you’ll leave and miss the surprise I have for you.” The man finally coming into view. Mickey didn’t know what to make of him. He was wearing all black and had a white mask with no face.

‘Why the fuck would I want a surprise from a freak like you?”

“Well I know for a fact that this surprise is very important to you. You would do anything to get it. You would even die for it… or should I say him.” He said. That’s when another light came on and in the middle of the spotlight was Ian. He was tied to a chair as well, with a gag in his mouth. It took a second for his eyes to adjust but when he saw Mickey, they went wide.

“Mickey? MICKEY!” His words came out muffled as he tried to break free. Mickey could see in his eyes that he was scared.

“Don’t worry Ian I’ll get us out of here” He said as he pulled on his ropes.

“Now why would you want to do that? The party’s just getting started.” The man snapped his fingers. Two more men dressed the same came out of the shadows wheeling a cart full of knives, a machete, a pair of bolt cutters, and a scalpel. The leader of the three picked up a knife and walked over to Mickey. Mickeys brain went into panic mode.

“I swear to god if you touch me with that thing I’m gunna-”

“You’ll what?” The man said getting in Mickeys face. ignoring the anger in Mickeys voice “You can’t even get out of those rope. Besides, these toys aren’t for you…. they’re for him.” He said pointing the knife in Ian’s direction. Mickeys eyes widened.

“YOU STAY THE FUCK AWAY FROM HIM!” He shouted.

“Oh sorry little puppy but I have my own plans.” He said as he walked over to Ian.

“YOU LEAVE HIM THE FUCK ALONE YOU PIECE OF SHIT!” Mickey shouted but his threats fell on deaf ears. The man walked around Ian, examining his body as Mickey shouted out threats.

“I think I’ll start right… Here” he said as he stabbed Ian in the side, going in very deep. Ian let out a loud scream. Mickey froze in horror as he watched the blood pour out of his wound. That was just the beginning. The masked man continued to tortured Ian. Stabbing him in multiple places, slicing through his skin, cutting off three of his toes and four fingers. Finishing with cutting off one of his ears. Mickey begged and pleaded for him to stop. Threatening and screaming. All while tears poured from his eyes. Screaming to let him go and to take him instead, no telling how many times he said stop. Yelling so much that his vocal cords would burst. Ian was in so much pain, he wished he would just die already but the sweet relief of death never came.

Finally, the man stopped. He put his tools down and walked over to Mickey.

“I think your right. We’ll stop.” A small wave of relief came over Mickey.

“We should just put him out of his misery” He said as he pulled out a gun. Mickey looked at the man in pure horror. The man looked at Ian and then back at Mickey. “On second thought, why don’t you do it” He said as he started to untie one of his hands.

“You can fuckin torture me all you want but I’ll never do that. I’d rather die”

“It’s ok” He gripped Mickeys hand. It was scary how strong he was. Mickey could barely move his hand. “I’ll help.” He wrapped Mickeys hand around the gun and put his finger on the trigger. Ian, barely conscious, looked up, tears streaming down his face.  Mickeys eyes started to tear.

“Don’t make me do this.” He said sobbing

“No son of mine is going to be a dick sucking faggot.” Mickey looked at the man. What was once a faceless white mask was now his father. He started to press mickeys finger agents the trigger.

“Dad no don’t make me do this, please stop.” He cried but terry wasn’t stopping. Mickey begged and pleaded but terry kept pressing down on his finger, and then

BOOM!

Mickey shot up from his bed, breathing as if he had just run ten miles. He looked around. He was back in his room. Ian sat up.

“Hey you ok?” Mickey looked over at Ian. His eyes went wide. He quickly lifted Ian’s shirt, looking for stab wounds, grabbing his hands and examining them to make sure he had all ten fingers, and the checking the side of his head to make sure he still had his ear.

“Hey what are you doing” He looked at his boyfriend with a smile. Mickey started to tear up and his breathing wasn’t slowing down. Ian’s smile faded “Are you ok? What’s wrong?” He said concerned. Mickey looked into his boyfriend’s eyes and started to cry. He wrapped his arms around Ian and pressed his face into Ian’s chest.

This took Ian by surprise. Mickey had never done this before.

 Mickey cried harder. The trauma he was experiencing was intense. Almost painful. He had never felt this kind of pain before

“Mickey you have to calm down.” Ian frantically tried to think of something that would calm him down. That’s when a memory appeared in his head. Ian took a breath....... and started to sing.

“When it rain it pours but you didn't even notice It ain't rainin' anymore, it's hard to breathe when all we know is The struggle of staying above, the rising water line” Ian sang. His voice soft and soothing.

“Well the sky is finally open, the rain and wind stopped blowin' But you're stuck out in the same old storm again You hold tight to your umbrella, darlin' I'm just tryin' to tell ya That there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head” Mickey listened. His crying became softer and his breathing started to slow. As he sang, Ian rubbed Mickeys back, trying to calm him down as much as possible.

“If you could see what I see, you'd be blinded by the colours Yellow, red and orange and green, and at least a million others So tie up your bow, take off your coat and take a look around” They both slowly laid back down. Mickey had stopped crying and started to focus on Ian’s voice. His breathing returning to normal.

“Cause the sky is finally open, the rain and wind stopped blown' But you're stuck out in the same old storm again You hold tight to your umbrella, darlin' I'm just tryin' to tell ya That there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head” With every word Ian sang, Mickey felt better. His body getting more relaxed by the second. He closed his eyes and listened.

“Oh tie up your bow, take off your coat and take a look around Everything is alright now” Mickey began to drift back to sleep.

“Cause the sky is finally open, the rain and wind stopped blowin' But you're stuck out in the same old storm again Let go of your umbrella, darlin' I'm just tryin' to tell ya That there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head Yeah there's always been a rainbow hangin' over your head It all be alright” Ian’s voice fading as he finished the song. He looked down. Mickey was fast asleep. He let out a sigh of relief and went back to sleep.

……….

Ian sat next to a sleeping Mickey, gently rubbing his head. He looked at his phone. 11:30am. Thank god neither of them had to work today. Mickey groaned, he was finally waking up.

 “Morning.” He said in a sleepy voice.

“Morning.” Ian said back. Mickey got up and went to the bathroom. His bladder was about to burst. When he came back he laid his head in Ian’s lap and wrapped his arms around him.

“Hey. You wanna tell me what happened to you last night?” Ian said as he ran his fingers through mickeys soft black hair.

“Not really.”

“It’ll make you feel better. Trust me.” Mickey sighed.

“Fine.” Mickey told him everything. It stung to even talk about it. As he finished he could feel some tears forming in his eyes. He loved Ian so much, he didn’t want to lose him, even in his dreams. Ian was shocked at how awful the dream was but still sympathetic. He hugged mickey tightly.

“Don’t worry. Take a lot more than that to kill me.” Mickey huffed out a laugh. They sat in silence for a moment.

“Hey where did you learn that song from?” Ian sighed.

“Monica. When she wasn’t totally spaced out on drugs and taking her meds she was actually a decent mom and when I would have a nightmare, she would sing it to me.”

“You got a nice set of pipes”

Ian laughed a bit

“Thanks.” It was silent again. Mickey rubbed the top of Ian’s hand. Then Ian started to laugh.

“What’s so funny?” Mickey said sitting up.

“hahaha Big bad Mickey milkovich needed a lullaby to go to sleep” Ian said laughing Mickey blushed, feeling embarrassed but smiled anyway.

“Oh you think that’s funny?” Mickey said slightly laughing.

“Yes.” Ian continued to laugh

“Fuck you I’ll give you something to laugh about.” Mickey said as he started squeezing Ian’s sides and ribs, making him howl with laughter. Ian quickly fought back, going for Mickeys armpits. Mickey laughed and tried to protect himself.

They continued to play fight for a while and ended up staying in each other’s arms for the rest of the day. Mickey thought to himself

“Fuck, I’m lucky.”

End.

 Notes: I hope you enjoyed reading this. I loved writing it. Sorry its long but I wanted to get it all out. Also the song Ian sang is real. If you want to listen to it (which I highly recommend) It’s “Rainbow by Kacey Musgravess”

P.S. constructive criticisms is always welcome.

#gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #shameless

[lovemesomerafael]

Others Like Me                                  Chapter 10:  Spain

Chapters 1-5     Chapter 6     Chapter 7  

Chapter 8   Chapter 9    Read it on AO3

Most of the team sleeps on the way back to the Compound, but only Bucky gets on the plane, takes a seat, and sleeps until they hit the tarmac in New York. Actually, he doesn’t sleep the entire time; he wakes up a few times, blinks, remembers, and forces himself to go back to sleep again.  He knows he can’t just sleep until he feels better, like he used to back in Brooklyn when he had the flu.  But it’s working for now.  

He doesn’t dream, at least that he can tell.  Too exhausted, maybe.  

It doesn’t escape him that, every time he wakes up, Steve’s sitting next to him. Sometimes he’s asleep, too, but mostly he’s reading or talking softly to Clint or one of the soldiers.  Bucky wonders if Steve knows how much that helps.  Probably.  But when he can, Bucky’s going to tell him, anyway.  He can’t, right now.  But he can reach out and take Steve’s hand where it’s resting in Steve’s lap.  So he does.  Bucky closes his eyes and goes back to sleep, so he doesn’t see Steve spend the next hour staring at their clasped hands, or feel the tear that escapes to fall onto Bucky’s fingers and then roll down onto Steve’s.  

Back home, it’s morning and Bucky can’t sleep anymore.  He looks around for something to catch his interest, but he doesn’t want to sit still, he’s too tired and sore to work out, and his stab wound isn’t healed enough yet to go for a run.  So he just prowls the compound like a tiger in a cage, restless and melancholy. He’s glad there’s no one around. Steve and Clint are here somewhere, but Tony, Bruce, Natasha, and Sam have all stayed behind to help the Troops figure out their next steps.  Scott’s gone back wherever he came from.  It’s quiet, and there’s no one to be bothered by Bucky’s edginess and constant roaming.

Eventually, he unpacks his gear and works on cleaning and repairs, just for something to occupy his hands.  His mind’s kind of fuzzy, which he figures is probably a good thing.  In his mind, he’s replaying the operation to destroy the bunker and free the Troops, like he always does after a mission, but mostly he’s trying not to think about anything.  He doesn’t want to think about Marya, and he’s not ready to think about Steve.  

The next week goes kind of like that, although every day’s a little better than the last.  Tony gets back and he’s full of ideas for the Troops.  The twelve who are staying together have chosen to live in Spain, in the Basque country west of Bilbao, and Tony and the other Avengers have an idea for a compound sort of like this one, if a little more self-sustaining.  The first thing the Troops did was to choose names for themselves, real names, rather than their number designations, which Natasha thinks is a good sign.  She’s helping them start figuring out the real world, and Sam’s helping them begin to process what they’ve been through and done in their years as Hydra captives. Bruce is working on plans for the compound, which Tony is, of course, financing.  

Steve explains to Bucky that there’s more to this than mere altruism.  The Troops are still dangerous as hell, yet extremely vulnerable.  It’s critical that The Avengers keep in close contact and on good terms with them so that they don’t just become the pawns of some other organization like Hydra, or worse. Besides which, they’ll be great allies if needed in a fight.  

It hurts to hear about them.  Bucky wants to be there; he knows he’s their “brother”, and he should be there.  But he simply can’t.  Tony is full of funny stories about the Troops misunderstanding common turns of phrase, and it reminds Bucky so much of Marya he feels it like a knife in his gut.  He’ll get there.  He knows he will, and it won’t be that long.  But not today, and not next week.  Nobody’s rushing him.  

Steve’s not rushing him into anything, either.  For the first month, that suits Bucky fine.  Their friendship was in such tatters a short time ago that it’s nice, for now, to start simply.   When Bucky had first been rescued from Hydra, he’d been a mess, and Steve had simply been present, letting Bucky set the tone and speed of their reunion.  After that, when Bucky was fully Bucky again, he’d tried as hard as Steve had to recapture the easy intimacy of their friendship and, for the most part, they’d succeeded for a short time.  But things had fallen apart when they’d tried to rekindle their romance.  The romance wasn’t the problem – God knows that wasn’t the problem – but every time he’d tried, Bucky had found himself unable to keep from pulling away, so shamed and disgusted by himself he couldn’t bear to let Steve get close.  The more Steve had pushed, the further Bucky had retreated, until he’d finally decided the least painful alternative for them both was to give up on ever being able to let Steve love him again.  They’d both been so frustrated that they were barely speaking even before Bucky had been abducted and met Marya.

Things are different now.  They’ve been repairing their friendship since before the bunker, even when Bucky was with Marya.  And when she’d told Bucky that she wasn’t coming back with him - that he was ready to be with Steve again, where he belongs - Bucky had known she was right.

It’s taken Bucky this long to get over the shock and initial grief of Marya’s death.  These days, however, he can think about her and smile.  It still hurts like a bitch, but the truth is, she’s been gone almost as long as she was in Bucky’s life.  And Steve’s here.  

They’ve started training together again, which is what they’re doing right now. The serum lets them beat the crap out of each other if they want to, knowing everything will be pretty much healed by the next day.  But Bucky’s been noticing that, lately, he wants to tackle and wrestle Steve a lot more than he wants to punch or kick him, and he knows exactly what that’s about. It’s time.  He thinks Steve’s there, too, but he won’t make a move.  Every time Bucky tries, Steve gives him this “let’s take it slow” speech, the exact opposite of what he did when Bucky really needed to take it slow.  It just wouldn’t be their relationship if they didn’t fuck things up ten ways to Sunday.

Steve’s just thrown Bucky over his head to land with a thud flat on his back, knocking the breath out of him for a minute.  Bucky’s smiling.  He would be laughing if his lungs were currently working, and Steve’s being a complete smug dick about it.  When Bucky catches his breath, Steve makes the mistake of reaching down to help him up from the mat and gets his feet swept out from under him.  In less than a second, Bucky’s got him pinned and his legs trapped with his own.  

“You’re such a sucker!”

“It’s called manners,” Steve huffs.  “You should try it.”

“Make me.”

For the next few minutes, Steve tries to do that, but Bucky’s having it all his way. The end result is a lot of writhing around while Bucky’s lying pretty much fully along Steve which is, of course, Bucky’s entire intention.  

“All right, fine,” Steve sighs disgustedly.  “You win this one.”

“Uh-huh.  Now gimme my prize.”

“What are you talking about?”

“Kiss me.”

Steve’s instantly on alert.  He frowns and goes all concerned.  Bucky rolls his eyes.  “Shit, Steve, it’s just a kiss.  I’m not askin’ you to marry me.”

“I know, Buck, but I’m trying to do things right this time.  Tryin’ to take it slow.”

“Fine.  Kiss me slow,” Bucky grins.

Steve’s uncertain, but Bucky’s not, and he also happens to be kind of a shit. So he starts rubbing against Steve, leaning down to within a fraction of an inch of his lips, and not letting him get away.  “C’mon,” he purrs.  “What’re you afraid of?”

“Not you, that’s for sure.”

“Then fuckin’ kiss me, punk.”

Steve does.  Bucky can feel that he’s into it, and he’s breathing hard, but he keeps the kiss gentle and almost chaste.

“What am I, your sister?”  Bucky growls. “I said kiss me.”

That works.  The next thing Bucky knows, he’s the one lying under Steve, who’s straddling him and kissing him for real.  It’s about time.  

It feels glorious to have Steve’s hot mouth on his, kissing him hard and invasively, all tongue and moans.  Bucky keeps trying to grind against him, and it works for a few minutes, but then Steve pulls back and rolls off of Bucky.

“What the hell?  Come back here,” Bucky groans, reaching for Steve, who moves a little away.

“Can’t help it, Bucky, you’re just so damn sexy.”

“Which is a reason to come back over here, lame-brain, not move away.”

“No, but, I just don’t wanna start something we can’t finish.”

“Why the hell can’t we finish it?  I want to finish it.  That’s kind of the point I’m makin’ here.”

“It’s too soon.”

“Buddy, it’s been too long.”

Bucky reaches for Steve, who stands up and moves a few steps away.  He pulls his fingers through his hair, clearly troubled. “C’mon, Buck, stop it.  You know I can’t resist you.”

“Then don’t!”

“Dammit, Bucky, this isn’t a game.  I love you.  I’m tryin’ to do right by you.”

Bucky sits up, sighing in frustration.  “OK, OK. Look, I know that.  I just…  I want you, Stevie.”

“Yeah, I got that message.  And I’m right there with you.  But I’m playin’ for keeps here, Bucky.  I pushed too hard before.  I’m not makin’ that mistake again.”

“Even if it kills me?”  Bucky’s voice is half-shriek, half-whine.

“If it didn’t kill me before, it won’t kill you now.  Quit bein’ such a baby.”

Bucky smirks up at Steve from where he’s sitting on the mat.  “I’m not gonna quit tryin’.”

“Good.  Don’t. Because I’m not always gonna say no.”

 As good as his word, Bucky continues to try to seduce Steve.  Steve’s maintained his boundaries so far, but Bucky’s been steadily eroding them.  Steve’s willing to make out, shirts optional, and he’s OK with them getting a little handsy sometimes.  Bucky’s even been able to get him so worked up he agreed to mutual hand jobs a couple times, but so far he hasn’t been able to get Steve’s pants off.  It’s been frustrating in the extreme, but it’s also been the right thing to do.  Bucky’s never going to give Steve the satisfaction of telling him that, but he knows it’s true.  

Three months after the bunker mission, Bucky goes to Spain.  Natasha’s experiences are similar to those of the Troops in many ways, and that’s already proved to be a very good thing on a number of occasions.  They’re free and adapting much faster than anyone expected, but they’re still traumatized and living in an alien world.  Natasha has some things she needs to take care of, and she thinks Bucky needs to be there in her absence.  It’s definitely time for him to help out, and he feels ready.  

In the hangar, Steve kisses Bucky good bye and they agree they’ll see each other in two weeks, either at the Compound or in Spain, if Bucky’s still there.  

“I been thinkin’ maybe, when you get back, we could talk about makin’ some changes around here,” Steve says, holding Bucky close and whispering in his ear.

“Yeah?  Like what?”

“Like, maybe… sleeping arrangements.”

Bucky pulls back, completely surprised.  “You son of a bitch!  You say that to me now, when I’m leavin’ the country?”

“I thought it’d be good for us to, you know, think about it first.”

“Oh, I’ll be thinkin’ about it, all right.  C’mere, you.”

Bucky kisses the daylights out of Steve for a full five minutes before the rest of the crew making the flight begin to be obvious about their impatience. Smiling into Steve’s eyes, he says, “I love you.  I’ll see you in two weeks.”  Then he wiggles his eyebrows.  “Naked.”

“You really know how to ruin a romantic moment, you know that?”

Bucky hugs Steve again, chuckling, and Steve whispers, “I love you, Buck.”

 Marya’s brother, now called Dmitriy, meets the Quinjet with a truck, to take Bucky and the others, and the supplies they’ve brought, back to where the Troops are building their Compound.  They won’t find it without an escort, and even if they did, they wouldn’t make it past the perimeter that’s been set up.  

Dmitriy and Bucky introduce themselves, never actually having spoken before.  It’s a solemn moment when they first stand in front of one another.  It’s a little jarring when Dmitriy speaks Spanish; Bucky had just assumed he’d speak Russian.  When he asks about it, Dmitriy shrugs and says they speak the local languages for everyday.  They’ll stand out less, and there’s something symbolic about choosing to live their new life in a language other than Russian.  

Bucky nods, and mentions that he’s been on missions in this part of Spain and speaks Basque in addition to Spanish.  Dmitriy smiles.  “I thought you might.  You are our brother, after all.”

“I haven’t been much of a brother up to now,” Bucky admits, chagrined.  “But I’m here now.”

“Sergeant, I never had the chance to talk to Marya about you and her.  There was no time.  But I’ve been told enough to appreciate the fact that you mourn her. I understand and, if it makes any sense, I’m thankful that you care that much.”

“I do.  I loved her, Dmitriy.”

“Then we have that in common, along with everything else.”  

Bucky doesn’t quite understand why the hard hug he and Dmitriy share feels so healing, maybe something about knowing that Dmitriy feels Marya’s loss as much as Bucky does.  But he knows from that moment that he wants to make a friend of Dmitriy.

“You can call me Bucky, you know.”  

“No, Sergeant,” Dmitriy says with a grin he doesn’t even try to hide.  “I can’t.”

That gets a belly laugh from Bucky, even though Dmitriy’s resemblance to his sister when he says it hurts like hell.  He supposes he better strap in for a lot of that while he’s here.

 As promised, when Bucky’s been in Spain for two weeks, Steve comes to the Compound for a few days.  Bucky’s part of Dmitriy’s work crew framing the first building of the Troops’ Compound, now that they’ve dug and poured the foundation, so he can’t be there to welcome Steve.   He’s more than a little aware of what time Steve’s arriving, though, and he sees the truck arrive.  

Dmitriy has proven to be every bit the smartass Marya was, and insists that the crew can’t do without Bucky until they get done with the section they’re working on and break for lunch.  His shit-eating grin tells Bucky he’s well aware of the situation, but he refuses to relent. As they work, Bucky keeps expecting to see Steve come walking out of the grove of trees where the Troops are currently housed in a large grouping of yurts, but he doesn’t.  By the time noon arrives, Bucky’s pretty much bordering on blue balls and about ready to give Dmitriy a demonstration of what his left arm can do.  Finally, he hears Dmitriy give a shrill, melodic whistle and jumps, rolling as he lands, from the building’s ridgepole to the ground.  As he strides rapidly toward the yurts, removing his toolbelt as he goes, he hears Dmitriy’s deep laugh follow him.

Steve’s not in Bucky’s small yurt when he tears the door open, but to Bucky’s utter joy, he sees that Steve’s dropped his bag on the end of the bed.  Bucky feels another jolt of arousal as he realizes that means Steve’s staying here.  With him.

As he stalks over toward the biggest yurt, where he thinks Steve must be, Bucky belatedly realizes that he was so anxious to see him that he’s forgotten to put a shirt on or wash up.  He can tell that a lot of his hair’s pulled free of the elastic at the back of his neck, because some of it is in his eyes. But he immediately forgets again when he finds Steve deep in conference with Bruce and Sam, going over blueprints and details of the water system they’re building. Once Bucky sees Steve, he doesn’t see anything else.  He only dimly realizes that Steve’s practically drooling, staring at Bucky’s sweaty, dirty bare chest and flushed face.

They just stare at each other long enough for Sam to roll his eyes and groan disgustedly.  “For fuck’s sake, you guys, I’m gonna get pregnant if you keep lookin’ at each other like that.  Go be alone, and remember yurts have fabric walls.  Damn.”

Bruce blushes and looks down at the table covered with blueprints, drawings, and plans.

Bucky and Steve are in each other’s arms instantly, and they hold one another tightly for so long that, when they let go, they realize that Bruce and Sam have left the yurt without their realizing it.  Their mouths meet hungrily, greedily, and that takes a long time, too.

“I saw your stuff on my bed.  You stayin’ with me?”  When Steve opens his mouth to answer, Bucky says quickly, “And you should know that the only answer I’m gonna accept is yes.”

“Yes,” Steve smiles widely.

It’s hard for Bucky to kiss Steve the way he wants when he’s smiling so much, but he’s also suddenly way too horny to kiss much, anyway, without ending up fucking Steve right here on the floor of Bruce’s office.  

“I made us a picnic,” Bucky says breathlessly.

“Really?  That’s what you wanna do right now?”

“Sam’s right.  Yurts have fabric walls.  And it’s beautiful here.  There’s a hill about a mile away with a clearing.  Sunshine, blanket on the grass… You… Me…”

“Fuck,” Steve gasps.  “Sign me the hell up.”

They practically run to pick up the packed picnic supplies Bucky’s stashed just inside the door of his yurt and get to the clearing.  Steve doesn’t spend much time smoothing out the blanket, just shakes it out in front of him and then pulls Bucky down onto it.  Bucky doesn’t mean to literally tear Steve’s shirt off, but he also doesn’t give it a second thought when it happens.  Feeling Steve’s bare chest against his, the solidity of his muscular body in his arms, the heat and need in his kisses, is like air to Bucky.   He doesn’t know how he’s going to let go long enough to get Steve’s jeans off.

“I love you.  I love you so much, Stevie.”

“I love you, too, Buck.  You’re mine.”

“Yeah.  Fuck, yeah, I’m yours.  Always been yours.”

As it turns out, Steve’s not able to let Bucky go any more than Bucky can let go of Steve.  They end up clasping desperately at one another, mouths open to each other and tongues stroking each other when they remember, grinding painfully hard cocks together until they both come, hissing filthy praise and their love for each other.

“Jeez, Buck, we haven’t done that since we were seventeen.”

“’Bout time, then,” is all Bucky has to say between kisses down Steve’s jawline.

“We’re gonna be a sight walking back into the Compound.”

“There’s a creek,” Bucky mutters, moving lower to take a nipple into his still-greedy mouth.

“Fuck.”

At long last, after months of hot but frustrating make-out sessions and heavy petting, Bucky pulls Steve’s jeans off and takes all of him in for the first time. The sight is enough to make Bucky’s own jeans uncomfortable again, and he quickly peels them off.  Steve’s already hard again, too, and he makes a sound that’s almost a whimper when he sees Bucky reach into the picnic hamper and pull out a bottle of lube.  

“Planned this all along, huh?”

Bucky snorts.  “Sweetheart, I’ve been thinkin’ about fucking you pretty much nonstop for the last two weeks. Damn straight I planned this.”

Steve cries out as Bucky softly touches his hole wit warm, slippery fingers. “I ever tell you how fucking sexy you are?”

Bucky’s smile is almost too happy to be the predatory leer he’s going for.  “Tell me now, while I make all those dirty thoughts come true.”

“I love you,” Steve begins, his words broken and breath hitching as Bucky begins to lick lightly at the head of his cock.  “You’re so gorgeous.  I saw you in Bruce’s yurt just now and I just about lost it right there- oh, shit, Bucky! Fuck, your mouth is a lethal weapon…”

Bucky chuckles and begins a slow but definite rhythm, sliding his finger in and out of Steve while he continues teasing him with his tongue.  Steve’s moving his pelvis, letting Bucky know how fast to go.  “So fuckin’ good,” Bucky murmurs, sliding another finger into Steve as he relents and takes Steve’s cock into his mouth.

Steve’s shout of pleasure is a definite reason to be a mile away from the closest other people.  

“Oh, fuck, Bucky…  You feel so good.  I’ve wanted you for so long.  I…  Oh…”

“You gonna come, Sweetheart?  Yeah, come for me.  Oh, I would love that…”

Bucky barely gets the words out before Steve’s fucking into his mouth and screaming – there’s no other word for the sound he’s making – as he shoots down Bucky’s throat.  Bucky could easily come from watching that, just rubbing against the blanket on the soft grass, but he wants to be inside Steve when he comes next.  

By the time Steve’s starting to relax a little, Bucky’s got him fully ready and, although he just came, Steve’s still hard.  Gotta love that serum.  

“Fuck me, Buck.  Please, Baby, I need to feel you – us together – it’s been so fucking long…”

Bucky feels like he’s been waiting for this moment forever, and when he raises up on his knees, lifting Steve’s thighs to give himself a little more room, it feels like here, pushing his cock gently into Steve is the place he’s always supposed to have been.  He’s surprised to feel tears burn at the back of his eyes.  Despite the awkward stretch it takes, he leans over and kisses Steve’s lips, buried completely in the man he loves.

“Stevie…”

“Ungh...”

“I’m yours.  Always.”

“Mine.”

“Yours.  And you’re mine.”

He has to grit his teeth a little, but he wants to enjoy this moment, stroke after stroke, for as long as he can.  The sun is warm on his back, and there’s a sweet smell of green in the air, and Steve looks absolutely perfect lying beneath him, eyes boring into his, glowing with exertion and pleasure.  When he comes, Bucky doesn’t shout.  He whispers, breathing hard, “I love you, Steve.  I love you.  I’m yours. I’m yours…”

It’s dusk before they wander back into the Compound, holding hands and smiling quietly.  When they enter Bucky’s yurt, they see that someone has laid out supper for them on the table. Bucky knows they’re welcome at the communal evening meal, which makes this gift all the more thoughtful, especially because there’s nothing Bucky and Steve want more right now than to be alone together.  They can hear voices outside, and see the warm, flickering light of a few campfires, but it’s just a comforting backdrop for the small, blissed-out world inside the yurt where only the two of them exist.

 One of the reasons Steve’s at the Compound is that they are going to finish the mop-up of their destruction of Hydra.  On the day they’d taken the bunker, the team had purposely allowed Hydra the opportunity to call for help, to see who would answer.  Sam and Tony had destroyed the three helicopters that responded and, with support from Natasha, the Troops had traced them to a group The Avengers hadn’t known existed.  The Troops learned all they could about them.  It was as bad as they’d feared, and not something they could allow to grow.  

With the Troops, Steve and Bucky spend a few days destroying the group and its facility.  Bucky sees what Steve meant when they’d discussed this earlier.  The Troops are far too dangerous and naïve to be abandoned to their own devices, and they’re invaluable allies.  Besides caring deeply what happens to them, Bucky sees the wisdom of making sure their little community succeeds, and that The Avengers are the foundation for that success.

It’s an opportunity for Bucky to bond further with Dmitriy, and for Steve to get to know him.  Sitting around a fire back at the Compound the night they return from the raid, the three get as drunk as supersoldiers can, mild and temporary as alcohol’s affects on them are. They speak English, because the U.S. Army has never had Hydra’s focus on languages.  Steve could learn them ridiculously easily, as they all can, but he hasn’t bothered much.  They talk about a lot of things, enjoying each other’s company and making informal plans for the future.  

“I gotta ask, Dmitriy, about that scar on your face,” Steve says, slurring his words just a little.  “How’s someone who got the serum develop a scar?  I never do.  Bucky doesn’t.”

“We don’t, either,” Dmitriy answers.  “I think I must have had this before the serum.  I don’t ever remember not having it.��

Bucky asks, “Are you guys gonna work on that?  Your memories, I mean?  Bruce has some theories.”  

“We already are.  More with Sam than Bruce, though.  Nobody’s very comfortable with the idea of doctors, period, and we’ve had about enough of people playing with our minds.”

“Amen to that, Brother,” Bucky mutters, and downs the rest of the vodka he’s drinking.

“We’re more focused on the future.  As you know, we don’t really know what the serum does long-term.  We want to build a life here, which means we need to know some basics about what we can expect.  Our life spans, whether we could ever have children, those kinds of things. That’s what Bruce is working on, when he’s not designing septic systems.”

They enjoy a quiet laugh about that.

“And you two?  It’s not much of a secret that you’re having some sort of reunion, and it’s definitely not a secret what kind.”  Dmitriy smirks.  “What’s in your future?”

Steve looks at Bucky like he’s pretty much perfect and Bucky finds himself expecting a twinge of pain and shame that doesn’t come.  

“Whatever it is,” he says, squeezing Steve’s hand and looking into his too-blue eyes, “It’ll be together.”

#Bucky Barnes #Sebastian Stan #Captain America #Chris Evans #The Avengers #Sam Wilson #Stucky #Tony Stark #Bruce Banner #Natasha Romanoff

[the-pallid-king]

@ichxgo:

You’re being incredibly patient with his exploration. He snorts. “Does sleeping with me make you feel like you’re dying? Because if that’s the case, we might have been doing it wrong this entire time.” He’s teasing, he gets your point. “It obviously doesn’t bother me anymore. I think... at the end of everything, I came to the conclusion that you having that hole, and not me, is the only reason I'm alive.” He smirks at your assessment. “Definitely not. No blood to the brain. No air. You could put a human in the middle of an operating room before you put the hole there, and they still wouldn’t make it.” He straightens, looking over your face. “Alright. Kiss me, and then let’s fight.”

_______

He recoils slightly and makes face, not quite curling his lip, “No, that’s not- I meant–” Ok, maybe it wasn’t a good comparison. “I was tryin’ to draw a comparison between you feelin’ like you’re dyin’ when you see the hole in my chest and I’m sleepin’ with a shinigami that should be trying to kill me. I’m... relieved it doesn’t bother you anymore though.” He goes right back to being smug like it’s his natural state of being, “And it’s good you realized that, ‘cause it’s true. And the hole looks better in me than it would in you anyway.” He lifts a hand to trail fingers along the inside of your wrist, not trying to stop your exploration or anything, just touching to touch. A smirk to match yours tugs at his lips. “So easily broken.” He shakes his head slightly, but he’s more amused than anything, and not even remotely surprised to hear confirmation of his assumption. When you straighten, he arches a brow, curious what’s on your mind, but you tell him without prompt. Grinning, he gladly closes the short space between them to find your lips.

#ichxgo #submission

[ronmanmob]

Ronnie, what advice would you give a young person with schizophrenia? Sort of what do you wish you'd known when you were younger?

’…Sweet fing’ Ron says at length. ‘I once told a story t’a dear friend’a mine abaht this very notion - abaht wha’ I’d say t’meself if I could go back t’when I was firs’ diagnosed wiv skizafrenia. I’d like t’tell it again - word f’word - b’cause I fink it ansahs y’question bettah than I could by re-phrasin’ it. Everyfin I’d say t’meself, yeah? I’d say t’someone else. So read on, alrigh?

‘Th’questions tha’ prompted th’story where these–’ 

‘If ya could advise ya younger self, would you? If so, what would ya tell ya? D'ya t'ink young Ronnie would lissen for Older Ronnie? Is okay for do some kine wrong if no one finds out?’

The first of his little companion’s questions was the only one that really registered. He heard the others, certainly, but Ron riveted on that one. It was one his therapists had asked him on a few occasions, but that didn’t make it jarring or out of place coming from Beth. It was more a philosophical question than anything; not a dig for dirt in hopes of further analyzing him. He wasn’t sure, in all honesty, if she’d ever done that. Ever looked to analyse. She’d always seemed, to Ron, more intent on being a friend.

‘..If I could go back’ he said, sitting forward slowly and setting his elbows to his knees. Uncommonly, he held Beth’s gaze as he spoke. ‘I’d set dahn in time when I’d been sent t’prison f’bein’ a silly git. Got in a fight, yeah? Police caught us. End’a story. Only it ain’t.. ..Me aunty died while I was inside. Got no goodbyes. No last wishes. Nuffin’. Lost ‘er ‘n me time wiv ‘er b’cause ov my bein’ in prison.. .. ..It broke me. ‘I know bettah now ‘ow skizafrenia ‘appens. Know th’propensi’y f’it was in me always. Bu’ I fink tha loss, tha circumstance, dragged it aht.‘Anyway. I’d go back t’then, when I was a youngah lad jus diagnosed. Th’world was ‘orrifyin’. Made no sense. Everyfin was poison. Comin’ in too fast. No walls. No defence. Nuffin’. Got sent t’a mental ‘ospital. Drugged.. .. ..I’d go t’im, youngah me, ‘n I’d sit by ‘im bu’ not so close tha we’d touch. I’d sit ‘n I’d offah ‘im me ‘ands. ‘N I’d leave ‘em extended, all soft ‘n gen’le, even if ‘ee didn’t wanna touch ‘em b’cause good vibes, good feelin’s, they’re transmitted regardless ov touch. ‘N ‘ee’d begin t’know tha’ b’cause ‘ee’s me ‘n we ‘av th’same brain.

‘I’d sit..wait..let ‘im focus on me ‘ands p’aps, so ‘ee didn’t ‘av t’look at my face ‘n risk me invadin’ ‘im. I’d let ‘im relax a li’le, if ‘ee could. ‘N then I’d tell ‘im Ron, lissen. I know ‘i’s foggy in y’brain right now. I know th’world’s really loud ‘n fings feel like they’re crawlin’ inta yah. I know y’feel like y’alone ‘n like y’ll always be. Bu’ y’not. At all. Th’doctahs round yah wanna ‘elp yah. Th’medications they’re tryin’ t’giv yah will slow th’world dahn. They’ll calm th’feelin ov fings leapin’ inta yah. They’ll ‘elp y’focus. ‘Elp yah sleep. They ain’t poison, Ron.’

A pause came and went, a frown that wasn’t one tugging Ron’s brows; thinning his lips a moment.

‘I’d tell ‘im too tha’ ‘ee ain’t a monstah. Tha’ no mattah th’reaction ov ovvahs when th’doctah says ‘Ee’s skizafrenik’..’ee ain’t a monstah..ain’t t’be feared..’n it ain’t a def sentence. I’d tell ‘im ‘ees worthy ov love ‘n ‘appiness, ‘n tha i’s comin’. It is. I know b’cause m’livin’ it now, ‘n while it may take time.. ..It’ll come.’

Huffing out a little breath, Ron regarded his companion. Her other questions came back now; were turned to one by one.

‘.. ..I ‘ope ‘ee’d lissen’ he said. ‘N as t’doin’ a wrong bein’ ok if no one knows abaht it.. ..What y’done?’

#Anonymous #fankoo for much for this question Nonny! #//originally this reply was for -- #brooklynislandgirl #<- who you should totally go follow and who I love and cherish as a dear friend

[juniperwrites]

Well, I’ve officially fallen in love with these characters. I plan to do more with them in the future, so be on the lookout!  Reblogs are always welcome, btw! 

“First Impressions are...Something”

Marvin quickly realized that hiding a loud and curious zombie was not easy. Especially when said zombie was confused about what he could and could not eat.

“Robbie, NO! Don’t eat my books!” “Mh?” Robbie looked up at Marvin with a half-shredded page dangling from his mouth, drool covering what remained in his lap. Marvin sighed and quickly took the papers from the zombie. “We’ve been over this, you can only eat what’s on the plate.”

“Mmm...” Robbie hummed and pointed to the foam plate, which was barren and riddled with teeth marks. The magician picked up the dish and tossed it in a nearby trash can. “I see that you ate everything, but that doesn’t mean that you eat my things. OR that you eat the plate.” The zombie sighed dejectedly and hung his head. “Sor....ee”

Marvin couldn’t stay mad at Robbie for long; he was trying his best, after all. “Ah, it’s ok, Robbie. You’re getting better. At least you didn’t eat my bed this time.” He ruffled the shorter ego’s head and the two laughed at the memory.

“Hey, and you remembered ‘sorry’! Nice job!” Robbie grinned, “Guh...g-ood?” “Yeah, that’s good Robbie!” The zombie squealed and clapped, hugging Marvin tightly. The magician patted the other’s back in response.

“Hey, I’ll be right back, ok? I grabbed some burgers from a new place down the road, I though that you might want to try them!” “F-ood...Good!” Robbie clapped again. Marvin chuckled. “Yep, I hope that it’s good food! One second!” With that, he left the bedroom and shut the door behind himself.

Usually when Marvin left the room, he locked it behind himself to make sure that the zombie stayed put. This time, however, he forget in his excitement. He realized this flaw once he reached the kitchen. ‘Well, it’s not like he really knows how to use door knobs.’  Still, he rushed to get back upstairs.

Sitting in the room waiting for Marvin to return with his dinner, Robbie could hear the noises of the rest of the house. The door muffled the sounds enough so that he couldn’t make out any words, but he could still make out a distinct yell and someone running. “Want to play too’” he thought.

He remembered what Marvin had told him, that the other egos may be nervous when they first met him. ‘They’ll love you when they get to know you, it’s just...they aren’t sure of things they don’t know a lot about.’  Robbie frowned, remembering how that had made him feel sad. Marvin had hugged him and smiled, wiping away his tears before they fell. ‘But you’ll like them once you meet them, trust me! Everyone is really nice! Let me tell you about them: Schneep is a doctor that helps people feel better, Jameson doesn’t talk, but he uses his hands to show how he feels, Chase is really cool...’

“Want to play too” Robbie decided, pulling himself up onto slightly unsteady legs. He shuffled to the door and narrowed his eyes at the unfamiliar door knob. He’d watched Marvin use it to leave, but had never touched it himself. It felt cold on his clammy fingers.

“C-col...” he muttered, remembering the word Marvin had taught him. He wrapped his hand around the metal and pulled. The door remained shut. “Mmf!” With a grunt, he threw all of his weight into the wood. Finally, a crack appeared in the door frame.

Grinning at his success, Robbie did it again. The door fell off its hinges with a resounding crack, silencing the argument in the hallway. “GOOD! MAR, GOOD!” He clapped and pushed away the splintered door, only to see four shocked faces staring at him.

His brain slowly tried to find the right word, the one that Marvin had taught him to say whenever he met someone new. “H-Hiiiiii!” His rotted teeth leered at the egos, his decayed body only intensifying the effect.

Before anyone could move, Marvin ran up the last few steps. He came to a screeching halt at the scene. “Robbie! That’s bad!” He frantically rushed to the zombie and gently took his hands in his own. “Are you hurt? Did you get a splinter?”

Marvin was pulled from the zombie by a strong pair of arms. “Marvin! Vhat are you doing?!” Jackieboy Man quickly positioned himself in front of the struggling magician, Schneeplestein trying to hold him. “Stand back, I got this!” “NO!” Marvin’s shriek was lost in the zombie’s wails.

“NO! No hur...Mar!” Robbie tried to make his way to the magician, only for the superhero to hold him back. “Woah, take it easy!” Jackieboy’s attempt to console the zombie was futile - he began to flail wildly in an attempt to get to Marvin.

“The heck, Marvin?!” Shawn Flynn joined the German doctor in holding back the magician. “Why’s there a zombie in the house?!” Jameson slowly made his way to stand behind the superhero, cautiously watching the zombie. Marvin was hysterical. “He...I..I brought him here! He won’t hurt anyone! Trust me!”

Shawn never had the chance to reply as a door slammed open nearby. “What’s it take to get a nap ‘round here?!” The glitching ego stomped down the hallway to meet the others. “Seriously, it seems like every time I try to get some shut eye, you guys keep me up instead!!!” He finally paused to take in the scene. “Why’s Davy Copperfield captive?” He glanced at the other end of the hall, where Robbie had paused in his struggle.

Anti made his way to stand in front of Jackieboy Man. “Well, well, well, what’s goin’ on?” “What’s it look like, Anti? We’ve got a zombie in the house!” Antisepticeye glanced at the purple-haired zombie, who seemed awestruck by his green glitches. “An’ you’ve all got a demon in the house, why are you so surprised?” He knelt down until he was level with the zombie.

“Hey, ya’ got a name, kid?” Robbie struggled to form his mouth into the right syllables, but he remembered his lessons with Marvin. “Ro...Rob-bie” His eyes suddenly welled up with tears and he reached out to Anti. “No...ba-ad...good” He fell into the demon’s arms and sobbed. “Mar, wan’ Mar!”

Schneeplestein and Shawn released Marvin, who ran to land beside the glitch. “Robbie, I’m here” The zombie turned to sob into the magician’s cape, but maintained a death grip on Anti’s shirt. “No bad...Rob-bie goo-ood!” “Yes, you’re good Robbie. You’re good, not bad.” Marvin gently stroked the zombie’s violet hair.

Once his sobs settled into quiet sniffs and small whimpers, Robbie sat back to look at the other egos with hesitant eyes. “Wh-why...hur...Rob?” The egos in question turned their eyes down to the floor, ashamed. Jameson alone approached the three cautiously, kneeling beside the zombie with a sorry smile. He signed to Marvin, who translated for Robbie.

“Jameson says he’s sorry. They got scared because they...weren’t expecting you to appear like that. But it’s ok, he wants to get to know you. He knows what it’s like to not be understood.” Jameson grinned sheepishly as the last sentence was said, patting his mouth and shrugging.

Robbie smiled and reached out for the silent ego’s hand. “Ro-bbie.” He said and rigidly shook the other’s hand. Jameson grinned widely, signing more to Marvin. “He says that it’s nice to meet you. He hopes that they didn’t scare you too much.” Robbie laughed. “Rob...more...scrr...” Jameson laughed silently and patted the zombie’s head.

One by one, the other three egos apologized and were promptly forgiven. Robbie was more interested in who they were. Jameson was quick to show Robbie his speech slides, which could appear in lieu of him signing his thoughts (the zombie loved the glow that accompanied them, and the ‘magical’ appearance of them). Shawn Flynn brought out a few stuffed toys, even giving one to Robbie. Schneep brought out his hidden lollipop stash and gave Robbie a handful (much to Marvin’s horror). Jackieboy Man approached the zombie seemingly for a hug, but instead gently lifted them a few feet into the air. “ ‘gain! Do...’gain!”

Finally, it was late and everyone decided it was time for bed. “Wait, where’s Robbie gonna sleep?” The question brought everyone’s attention to Marvin. “Well, he’s been sleeping in my bed-” “But zhat can’t be comfortable, can it?” Marvin shrugged. “We manage, he tends to hug me in his sleep.”

“He can sleep in my room. I have that spare couch.” Anti’s suggestion was met with five matching expressions. “Are ya’ sure, Anti?” The glitch shrugged. “Why not? He can sleep on my bed. I don’t usually use it, anyway.” Marvin turned worried eyes to Anti. “He doesn’t like the dark, do you-” “I have some lights in there.” “He needs soft things-” “He can bring anything he needs from your room, and I have blankets laying on the bed.”

Marvin worried his lip, but paused when Robbie tugged on his cape. “Mar? Rob...slee wif...An-tee?” Marvin smiled. “Only if you want to, do you want to have a sleepover with Anti tonight?” “Slee...ohvrr?” Anti couldn’t hide his grin. “Yeah, kid, sleepover. It’s where you get to stay up late, eat junk food, and have fun until you fall asleep. Sound good?” Robbie’s eyes practically sparkled as he stood up. “An-tee good...need sof” With that, he shuffled into the magician’s room to find his ‘soft’ blanket.

“Aw, is someone turning soft?” Jackieboy’s taunt fell on deaf ears. “So what if he’s sleepin’ with me? Marvin’s gonna throw his back out tryin’ to contort so Robbie doesn’t fall off the bed. ‘Sides, I need a partner in crime to prank you guys.” He cackled at the hero’s expression, slapping the other’s back and going back to his room.

“I won’t corrupt him...too badly.”

#robbie the zombie #antisepticeye #marvin the magician #marvin the magnificent #jackieboy man #doctor schneeplestein #jameson jackson #shawn flynn #my writing #jse egos #jacksepticeye