#in hindsight i think the colors turned out a little too bright but oh well

[neonpaperlanterns]

Let's Chat

Andy knew she was lonely, it was self imposed loneliness but still she was lonely. Moving to Jasper Nevada had been an impulsive decision. She wanted to get away, start anew. Go somewhere no one knew her and she knew no one. It had appeared ideal in the beginning. She had gotten exactly what she wanted and it felt nothing like she had expected. And now Andy was just tired.

Tired of being alone.

Tired of the monotony that her life had fallen into.

Tired of standing in the same place while the world moved on without her.

If she had known these thoughts would lead her to this? Well hindsight is twenty twenty.

Andy had heard her coworkers talking about some new app. It was called Lets Chat and it let you get in touch with random people. She felt weird and pathetic eavesdropping on a conversation that she hadn’t been a part of but she was curious.

Curious and lonely enough to consider getting Lets Chat.

She was laying in bed on a Friday night when she caved and downloaded the app. Embarrassment colored her face as she looked at the little purple square with the open cartoon mouth. Andy had to tell herself that this app was made for people like her. It was made for solitary people to try and make connections. It was perfectly acceptable for her to have this.

Swallowing what little pride she had she opened the application. A smiling mouth moved as a prompt popped up above it.

Click to start a conversation!

Make a connection!

Get in touch with anyone from anywhere!

Andy’s thumb tapped the screen and everything swirled into a purple stream and the screen went white.

PanoptCon is ready to chat! Send them a message!

The icon displayed was a bird wearing a visor that had an eye painted on the front. It was really well drawn and a bit unsettling. But that just made it more interesting. Her fingers hovered over the keypad. She could still back out, she hadn’t typed anything yet. No contact had been initiated.

Was she really going to talk to some rando?

Was she that despondent?

A frown pulled at the edges of her mouth. She hadn’t had a proper conversation with another person in months. So yes, she really was that despondent.

RocketToad; Hello!

With the contact initiated Andy stared at her phone. Seconds ticked by slowly as her message remained the only thing on the screen. A lone purple bubble in a sea of white. She let out a sigh. Realistically she shouldn’t have expected an immediate reply. Who just laid there and waited for a message from a complete stranger?

Oh right, she did.

Dragging a hand over her face Andy could feel herself sinking further. Her arm hung over the side of her bed, the grip on her phone was loose as she turned her head to look out the window. It was dark out, no moon hung in the sky. It had been overcast all day so one couldn’t even see the stars.

She knew the street lights were broken too so the outside looked like an endless dark void.

BZZT

Blue eyes darted to her phone as it vibrated in her hand. With far too much excitement she brought it to her face. The bright glow of the screen cast an eerie light as now right under her purple bubble were two pink ones.

PanoptCon; Hello.

PanoptCon; How are you? I like your icon. It is very cute.

Her icon was a chunky brown toad with its tongue poking out wearing a jetpack. A warm feeling settled in Andy’s chest. She thinks she should feel pathetic for how happy she was right now. And she did because it was but pushing down the negativity her thumbs tapped along the keyboard.

RocketToad; Oh, thank you! I’ve had the same icon for years now. And I'm alright. How are you?

RocketToad; I like your icon too by the way. It’s really cool.

Andy could feel a smile spreading across her face as another message popped up. It felt good to be talking to someone. She knows she talks to people at work but it wasn’t the same. And while this PanoptCon character wasn’t a friend it still felt good to be communicating with another person.

She kinda wondered if they were lonely too.

_____________

Humming happily Andy got comfortable on her couch. Work had been not stressful but mind numbing. She had been off for two days and someone left the filing system in utter disarray. No one was naming names but she just knew it was Elanne.

But that didn’t matter. Andy was in a good mood today.

She had a friend.

It had been a few months since she had started talking with PanoptCon. The first week had been a bit weird. The timing never seemed to be right and she went four days without hearing a response. They had been apologetic and had said that their job was turbulent and the hours could be weird to put it lightly. Andy had told them it was alright and she understood. She did ask what PanoptCon did for a living and she had gotten a cryptic response in return. For legal reasons they were not allowed to divulge the exact details but they worked with computers.

That had been interesting to learn but Andy didn’t pry any further. While her job may not have needed to be all hush hush that didn’t mean other jobs weren’t. Things were better now though. They would let Andy know in advance if they could when things were going to be getting hectic. She appreciated it and told them to text her when they could. It was cheesy but she couldn’t help but tack on a little ‘Be safe!’. PanoptCon always responded with an emoji saluting and a ‘Will do.’

Andy smiled down at her phone as it buzzed.

PanoptCon; Hello RT, how are you this evening?

RocketToad; Hey Pan! I’m doing pretty good actually. Work was tedious but I am feeling good today. How are you?

Flipping through the channels on her tv she waited for them to respond. Nothing was really on and she was thinking about putting a movie in before an alarming headline on the news screamed at her.

DRAMATIC INCREASES IN HIT N’ RUNS!

Andy leaned forward and turned up the television as the News Anchor appeared. The man looked discontent, his mouth was set in a thin line. She felt her phone go off but she wanted to hear what was going on.

“Most recent police reports have stated there have been seventeen hit n’ runs in the last two weeks. Authorities are at a loss when brought to the scenes of these brutal incidents.”

Her hand came up to cover her mouth as the anchor went on. He went on to say that it was to be believed that these drive bys were not accidents. A brief video was brought up. The camera was shaky and it was dark but it obviously showed a purple car deliberately charging whoever was filming. The video was cut before viewers could see the obvious results.

Tearing her eyes away from the tv she picked up her phone.

PanoptCon; I’m happy you are in a good mood, though I’m sorry work has been tedious. I am also doing well, I can’t really say but I was able to fix a problem that had been plaguing us for weeks. My boss was very pleased.

PanoptCon; Do you have any plans for the night by the way?

PanoptCon; RT is everything alright? You haven’t responded in awhile.

Guilt over not responding to her friend made her stomach churn even more.

RocketToad; I’m sorry! I got distracted by the news. My town is being terrorized by hit n’ runs and it’s just really scary.

RocketToad; Again I’m really sorry for not responding.

She frowned as her eyes darted back and forth between her phone and the on going news report. The video had shaken her, she imagines it is shaking everyone who sees it. They had gone out of their way to run over that person.

Andy had the upsetting thought of wondering if they were still alive.

BZZT

PanoptCon; Please don’t apologize. Are you going to be okay? I’m worried about you. I don’t want you to end up hurt.

It was stupid but she felt like she was going to cry. It was so stupid to cry over someone being worried about her. Wiping at her damp eyes she gave the screen a watery smile.

RocketToad; I think I'll be okay and thank you. I don’t really have anyone so it means a lot that someone is worried about me.

RocketToad; Really thank you and I worry about you as well.

Embarrassment at admitting far too much had her shoving her face into her hands. They were friends, yes, but she had never seen them. It probably wasn’t wise to divulge the fact that she didn’t have anyone to someone she has never met.

But those thoughts are shoved out the window when she glances at her cell. A stupid dopey smile spread across her face.

PanoptCon; Well you have me now and I don’t want anything bad to happen to you.

__________

The sound of fingers on a keyboard filled the otherwise silent office. Andy squinted her eyes as she fixed the errors on the document. It needed to go out today and Elanne just simply couldn’t be bothered to do her job. This was her project not Andy’s but of course Andy wound up having to work on it.

It frustrated her to no end and the ever present thought of throwing in the towel was at the forefront of her mind.

BZZT BZZT

This document really needed to be finished but she had been working on it for the last hour. She could take a moment to herself. Flipping her phone over it notified her that she had a message from Lets Chat.

PanoptCon; This might come off as weird but do you live in Jasper Nevada?

They were right, that did sound weird. Narrowing her eyes at the text she let herself be a little smart for once.

RocketToad; It does come off weird. Why do you ask?

PanoptCon; I thought so. But I was wondering, there is this carnival that is coming into town tonight around 7 and I wanted to know if maybe you wanted to go with me?

Andy perked up at that. She had heard others talking about a carnival and had wanted to go. She hadn’t planned to though, she would be alone and where was the fun in that? But here was PanoptCon asking her if she wanted to go with them. Biting her inner cheek, her foot tapped against the floor. She glanced at the clock. It was three right now and if she hurried she could be home by four thirty.

Was she really considering meeting up with someone she had never actually seen in person? They had never exchanged pictures, she had never even heard their voice, and hell they didn’t even know each other's real names. All of this pointed to not going. But at the same time it wasn’t unheard of for people to meet up with online friends. Also it would be in a public space. Hundreds of people would be there.

Did she really need to be that worried?

Andy decided that no, no she didn’t.

RocketToad; So yeah I do live in Jasper and I would love to go with you. I can meet you there.

Andy was excited but she could use a smidgen of caution. It would be best if they convened at the carnival instead of either of them picking the other up. She was stupid, she knew that but she wasn’t an idiot.

PanoptCon; Perfect! I’ll see you there then!

Sending a quick text that she couldn't wait, she put her phone away and with a renewed sense of determination went back to fixing the errors. She needed to finish this quickly if she wanted to get ready in time.

__________

Picking at her shorts she fidgeted at the front of the park the carnival was taking place. She had to resist checking her phone again. Standing there she watched as people passed her. All laughing and seeming to enjoy their time. No one even glanced at her.

Caving she looked at Lets Chat

RocketToad; Hey I'm here! I got here a bit early. I’m by the entrance, you can’t miss me.

RocketToad; I’m the one in the mint green pullover with the red hair up in a bun!

Andy had sent that at six fifty, it was now seven fifteen and she had not heard back. She was getting worried.

Were they okay?

Did they get lost?

Darker thoughts were trying to creep their way into her mind but she wasn’t having it. PanoptCon was her friend. Something must have happened to them. Unlocking her phone she decided to send another message.

Maybe they were just running late. Andy knew how odd their working hours could be. She was sure something had come up.

RocketToad; Hey is everything alright? Did something come up?

She waited with baited breath. Hoping desperately that they would respond. Even if they couldn’t make it she would understand. It was alright if they couldn’t make it. Life gets in the way. It’s alright.

A bitter voice in the back of her head hissed that she was pathetic. So desperate for a connection with someone that she would do anything to keep the meager one she had. Her lower lip trembled as she scrubbed her forearm along her face. She should probably go. PanoptCon hadn’t gotten back to her and it was encroaching seven forty-five. Andy should just go home.

The sky was getting dark as she trudged along the dry grass to her car. Fall had settled in and while the weather was still pleasant the days were getting shorter. Her heart felt heavy as she got further and further away from the bright lights of the carnival. She had gotten here early but everyone else had the same idea. The grassy field that acted as a parking area was brimming with cars. It sucked to have to walk but it would be easier to get out with how far she was.

Andy rummaged for her keys as her hand ran over the hood of her vehicle. She could hear it unlock as she popped the door open. Tonight was going to be another lonely night. She had been so excited to meet PanoptCon.

To hangout with someone.

To do something besides go home.

BZZT

Her phone going off startled her as she nearly dropped her keys. Throwing them onto the passenger seat she frantically pulled out her phone.

PanoptCon; I am so sorry Andy! I’m here!

With no hesitation she messaged back immediately.

RocketToad; It’s alright! Where are you?

PanoptCon; Turn around!

She ignored how off that sounded. Ignored that voice in her head that was trying to tell her something was wrong. She ignored it all and Andy turned around. A huge smile on her face.

They were here!

She was going to meet her friend!

A large metallic looking thing was behind her. She could see faint purple hues emanating from it as her gaze traveled upward. Her neck craned backwards almost painfully until she was looking at a face. Andy blinked slowly, her brain sluggishly supplying her with the thought that she was looking at a person.

A giant metal person.

The creature's face lit up. It was a screen she noted and she couldn’t make out what was on it. Her phone buzzed and the titan seemed to gesture at her. Like it wanted her to look at her cell.

As if on autopilot Andy stiffly brought her head back down.

PanoptCon; It’s nice to finally meet you Andy. 😀

Her eyes drifted back up as one thought stood out in her mind.

‘Right, she had never told them her name.’

#transformers #transformers prime #soundwave #original female character #depending this could be viewed as romantic or platonic which ever you want to see it as #kidnapping #depression #metions of vehicular man slaughter #vehicons #loneliness #i think i made a pun with his online name

[starbuckie]

𝐬𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐢𝐬 𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐢𝐧𝐠

pairing(s): college!peter parker x reader, dark!steve rogers x reader, dark!sam wilson x reader, dark!bucky barnes x reader

words: 8.1k words

warnings: DARK!FIC, SMUT 18+ (unprotected sex, foursome turned fivesome, gangbang, non-con/dub-con, daddy kink, oral M and F-receiving, spit kink, degredation kink, praise kink, creampie), age-gap (reader is in her early 20s), cheating, angst, there’s like zero fluff

summary: peter should’ve made it back to the tower for date night on time, or maybe just before he found his girlfriend being fucked by three other superheroes.

a/n: eee my first dark fic! im so so happy with the way this turned out, and even though it was a pain in my ass for nearly three months, im so hapy to share it with y’all. this idea was brought up by an anon from @mypoisonedvine’s saturday sleepover a few months back, but i switched up tony and sam bc i didn’t like the tony and peter stuff. hopefully my smut has improved from the first time i wrote it in january, and just a reminder that in no way, shape, or form do i condone rape of any kind. there’s a large difference from the page and the real world. i try to put all tw’s in the tags and warnings, but if there was something i missed please tell me. thank you to my lovely bestie @mermaidxatxheart for beta-reading(i have no fucking clue what i’d do without your help). feel free to leave a comment or two and reblog, but don’t repost anywhere or i will hunt down your ass. thank you again and please please enjoy <3

main masterlist || mcu masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck Y/N as soon as he saw her.

It started with a faint mention, something Tony had thrown around along the lines of, “Parker’s bringing his girl down here tomorrow, don’t be an asshole”. He didn’t give a damn what Tony said or how he acted around Peter’s girl. Years of being thrown between gruesome mind-wiping and being half-dead, asleep in a freezer would do that to a man.

So the next day when Peter brought his girlfriend in, he was scratching his ass like a fucking ape and downing a beer with a messy bun at the nape of his neck, until he actually saw her. Neat hair, even neater laces with a sweet smile but a body that could kill. Didn’t matter that she was bundled under Parker’s hoodie and a pair of jeans- he could always admire a pretty dame, but Bucky could see that she was beyond that. It was as if God had intentionally made the one being, the one ethereal creature beautiful and angelic enough to be a sin away from him, so that he couldn’t touch her. Because she was young, and in her twenties, and that shouldn’t have even been the first two things that popped up in his mind because she was also Peter’s girlfriend.

But then she had the audacity to stick her hand out, a shy grin and twinkle in her eyes as she gave her name. It sounded so pretty rolling off of her tongue, and he wondered what it would sound like while he groaned it into her cunt.

Y/N. 

So, yeah, maybe Bucky wasn’t planning to fuck her as soon as he met her, but it was pretty damn close after.

-

Steve Rogers was one of very few men who said they had the pleasure of banging nearly every woman on the north side of Manhattan. Bucky indulged in the fact that the man who had once been too shy to do so much as meet a gal’s gaze was now “a dollar whore”, but he was more than happy to keep that title if it meant he could continue to get off in the nearest woman’s mouth everyday. 

Every time he walked down the streets of New York with just a simple ball cap and jeans, he could feel stares on his back from what seemed like miles away, girls on every street corner just waiting for him to take her into the nearest public bathroom and fuck them dirty. CEOs, baristas, girls fresh out of getting master’s degrees with stars in their eyes and big dreams, until he shattered them by making them gag on his cock and scream his name into bedsheets. Or tile floors. He didn’t care as long as they were screaming. The girls of this century were just too delectable to turn down. He didn’t discriminate. His dick had been in women of every height, stature, hair color, and he had quite the variety throwing themselves at him as well.

And then Tony ruined it all and sat him down with a simple explanation that the image of Captain America was being tainted with disturbing stories of girls being fucked in the ass and thrown on their knees in dirty bathroom stalls. The blond was beyond pissed when the billionaire told him to stop dicking around, but he couldn’t do anything else if he wanted to keep his title and job. In a new century, even if he’d had a few years to adjust, he was still absolutely oblivious when it came to anything outside of aliens and sex. There was nothing left for him outside of being an Avenger, so reluctantly he agreed to keep his number of conquests to a minimum, and most definitely inside of the tower rather than out on the street.

However, inside of the tower seemed to be no problem at all when Peter brought his girlfriend over, all smiles and straight A’s, and that’s when Steve realized that he’d yet to fuck a bright, little college student. He could see himself stripping her from the innocence in her eyes, loosening up her pussy with his thick cock against the wall in his room.

Surely Tony couldn’t reprimand him for spending a little time trying to bond with Peter’s new girl, right?

-

Sam Wilson was a simple man. He had a job, a well-paid one at that, somewhere to live, a girlfriend, or a woman to keep him company, that’s for sure- but for once in his life he was seeking out something other than missions, something that would keep him busy when he was feeling bored, something like-

Pleasure, and he knew that he’d finally found what he was looking for the moment Peter brought his girlfriend through the elevator doors on the fifty-sixth level of the Avengers tower. She’d shaken his hand so daintily and spoke so politely that if he were to see her without any backstory, he’d think she was another innocent, dim-witted college student, breaking her bank account every Saturday morning and naively believing that her relationship would last longer than a few months. But by the things Parker had told him, she was much more than that.

Was it shitty of Peter to tell his teammates, the people he worked with, how Y/N was in bed? By the majority’s vote, probably, and by Sam’s strict conduct of his own morals, definitely, but when Peter’s girl looked like that and he was so incredibly bored with his routine? 

Well, fuck, Sam had never been happier that the Spider-kid had told everyone how his girl gave head.

Peter brought his girlfriend in daily after that, and every one of her visits, she grew less shy and more friendly, and the Falcon saw each of his friends gape at her growing comfortability with a wolfish demeanor. It started with the water incident with Steve in the kitchen, where he so clearly spilled water on her already thin, white camisole with intention. Sam couldn’t say he was upset though, after all Steve had offered him and the rest of the Avengers quite a show when he tried to clean up her shirt, taking his sweet, sweet time to fondle her tits as subtly as he could, his eyes staring at her pebbled nipples poking through the material. He could see Bucky hiding his boner under his cereal bowl on the couch that day. 

Then of course, he’d been no better than America’s sweetheart himself when he greeted Y/N with a hug that in hindsight, was a little too enthusiastic. His large hands squeezed into the pockets of her back pocket, and if the college student found anything weird with it, she didn’t say so, but Sam graciously palmed the round globes of her ass in his hands, feeling the muscle clench under his fingers. Oh, how he’d never hugged someone that tight ever before in his life. Maybe he would’ve gotten a bit further than squeezing her ass had it not been for his own girlfriend standing behind him, ready to introduce herself to Y/N.

Bucky, well, Sam could admit that Bucky had the most guts out of all of them. Though the super-soldier was normally well-reserved and polite, the dark glint in his eyes the day he met Y/N let him in on the secret that he had a much dirtier mind than most thought. It had been movie night that time, and he barely even tried to cover up how much he wanted the girl, his hands resting all over her as they watched Inception. Hardly a movie to get so riled up over, yet Bucky’s hand still inched its way up her thigh, his rough fingers gently carressing the flesh until they started to lightly trace the apex of her thighs. 

If she noticed anything then, she didn’t comment on it, doe-like eyes just marvelling at the screen in great intrigue. It was only when Peter’s arms wrapped around her a bit tighter did she scooch away from Bucky’s touch, with a small apology and shy grin. 

That only made his dick harder.

On the other side of Bucky, his super-soldier counterpart tapped his knee gently, forcing their blue eyes to meet each other. No words had to be said between the two, three men when they looked over to Sam, because they all recognized that look they saw in each other's eyes; predatory, dark, nearly voracious in the way they all wanted to be balls deep inside of Y/N.

And they would get there. No matter how long it took, they knew that the ultimate prize of tearing their prey apart would be more than worth the wait.

-

“Hey, babe, I’m gonna be a little late. Ned and I got stuck back in the lab, so we’re gonna need to stay until eight or nine. Can you make it to the tower by yourself alright?”

Peter’s concerned voice made Y/N smile gently as she trudged along the rainy streets of New York. He always loved to worry about her, especially when it was dark and gloomy out, but she could handle herself pretty okay. By pretty okay, of course meant she could kick ass like no other twenty-something year-old, but she wasn’t one to brag. Y/N readjusted the Kate Spade purse on her shoulder with her right hand, attempting to keep her umbrella over her head with the other. “I’ll be fine, Pete, just go finish up and get back to me. I’m gonna be waiting in your room at the tower before you go off on that mission this weekend.”

A small sigh came through the speaker, “Okay, I’ll try to get back to you soon. I love you, Y/N.”

“I love you too, Pete.” 

“Oh,” she could hear the shy but no less mischievous smile that was taking over his face, “I left you a little present on the bed, make sure you open it before I get back.”

Y/N’s face heated at the implication. “Peter Parker, you dirty little-” He ended the call with a laugh, and she huffed out a small chuckle at his childish antics.

The walk to the Avengers tower would have been nice, had it not been for the downfall of rain, making everything mushy, socks being absolutely soaked through her sneakers by the time she arrived. The receptionist at the front desk, Jenny, if Y/N remembered correctly, stared at her a little oddly, probably not expecting to see the young college girl in such a state of disorder, but it didn’t affect her at all. She confidently strutted up to the elevator, pressing in the floor number where all the rooms were located. Y/N scrolled through her Twitter feed on her phone while classic rock blared through the elevator with the constant shuffling of people moving in and out. Seven minutes and thirty-two seconds later she was sprinting down the halls with soggy shoes and damp hair, her cold body screaming for warmth.

Peter’s room was the farthest down the hall, and the room was fairly empty. He rarely stayed at his room in the tower, preferring to stay with his Aunt May or keep Y/N company in Brooklyn. When she entered the room, she saw a plain white shirt and a pair of socks strewn upon the carpeted floor, but what really caught her eye was the red box wrapped in a pink bow on the bed. Deciding it would add more suspense if she opened it later, she quickly hopped in the shower, letting the hot water warm her freezing, rigid muscles under the spray. 

Peter didn’t have all the products she’d usually use before she knew they were going to have sex, so she had to make do with the half-used bar of Irish Spring and his small travel-sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner, promising the fresh, breezy smell of citrus and mint. It was a quick process; two squeezes of shampoo, shaving with the green soap as best as she could without cutting herself, one squeeze of conditioner. A fuzzy towel sat waiting for Y/N on the rack, with the Spiderman symbol as a prank gift from her to her lovely boyfriend, and without a second to let the heat leave her damp skin, she wrapped herself in it, quickly hopping out to the bedroom again.

The lingerie she set out on the bed was a deep set burgundy color, with lace decorating the delicate corset and the trim of the satin panties. The packaging really did not do it justice. Y/N grinned at the new set, one that she knew would happily be torn from her body later. A shiver ran through her as she let the cold air fall over her skin, carefully slipping the lingerie on. It was a damn shame, really; the set was quite nice, and she reminded herself to buy more of the nicely suiting color for their nights together. 

Click.

Y/N’s heart thumped with anticipation as she heard the door open and she took a quick moment to ready herself. Hair in perfect style, legs stretched along the length of the bed to make herself look as seductive as possible, a small smirk thrown on her pouty lips.

But in the darkened room, it wasn’t Peter’s shadow that appeared. Three men, three tall, bulkier men’s shadows appeared at the foot of the bed, and horror washed over her as she realized who they were. “Goddamn, dolly, I’ve imagined what you would’ve looked like under those sweaters, but this is much sweeter than I expected.”

The sinister face of Bucky Barnes came into her view, just a sliver of moonlight lighting up his pale skin. His eyes raked over Y/N’s uncovered skin, and goosebumps appeared as she tried to cover herself up under his predatory gaze.

“W-what are you doing here?” She whispered worriedly. Sam and Steve flanked the bed on either side of her, plastered sickly sweet smiles on their faces, providing her with a false sense of security that made her heart scream in fear. Though she wasn't making any noise, her lungs felt like they were going to give out, her throat closing up like an allergic reaction. 

Her head whipped every which way in robotic movement, her brain seeming to fail her as she scanned the room for an exit. Several moments of shortened breaths, cold air chilling her body, before she came out of her freezing shock to realization.

“Why are you here? Please, get out, just g-get out!”

A calloused hand pushed away Y/N’s left arm that covered her tits, and Steve groaned at the sight of her pebbled nipples. “God, baby, they’re as pretty as I thought they’d be. Been trying to feel them up all week, but you knew that, didn’t you?”

Saturday the week before at lunch when he’d spilled water over chest and tried to clean her up. Sam’s friendly hug that became a bit less friendly when his hands slipped into the back pockets of her jeans. The movie night on Monday when Bucky’s hand caressed her thigh a little too close to her core. All of their touches began to make more sense, and her eyes filled with tears at the realization. 

“Please,” she begged, tears blocking her vision, “I promise I won’t tell anyone, not even Pete, but please just go.”

“You just don’t get it, do you?” Steve asked. He grasped her chin roughly, his face close enough to hers so that she could feel his fiery breath on her lips. “We’re not leaving, sweetheart. You’re gonna let all three of us play with your pretty little body, and you’re gonna make the prettiest sounds for us, alright?”

Y/N shook her head violently, too afraid to make noise, but also bold enough to make one last attempt at freedom. The hand that held her chin quickly moved to slap her cheek, and she hated the way the sting made heat stir in her lower belly. She tried to shy away from their touch again, but Bucky’s face simply held the same smirk as he trailed his vibranium fingers up and down her leg. 

“Oh, come on, Y/N, don’t act all shy now. Peter has been telling us how good you’ve been to him and don’t think he hasn’t told us about your little childhood crush on little ol’ me. Been wanting to fuck you ever since.” Bucky’s hand quickly left her body, instead moving to palm over the bulge in his pants. “Fuck, sweetheart, got me real hard just thinking ‘bout your pussy swallowing my cock. Bet you’re gonna be a sweet, obedient girl for me, right?”

Fire started to course through Y/N’s veins, and with all the power she tried to dampen it down with, it seemed to push through her body that much more dangerously. She despised the fact that she could feel herself growing wet for the three older men, but God, she had never felt the need to be filled up as badly as she did in that moment.

“You’re a bit of a slut, don’t you think?” Sam mocked. He kneeled on her right, his eyes fixated on her panty-clad pussy, a wet patch already forming on the soft satin. It really didn’t help that three of her teen celebrity crushes were eyeing her nearly naked body like a piece of meat. “I mean, look at you, already growing wet and needy for three cocks. Is that what you want, honey? Parker not treating you good enough?”

She hesitated. Goosebumps rose across her skin at the sinister tone of his voice, like he already knew it was true. And it was true and she hated that Sam was right, but as amazing as Peter was a boyfriend, it was clear from the vibrator hiding in his apartment’s bathroom that he was not amazing in the sheets. Every time, she held hope that it would be better, that she would finally get to stop faking an orgasm before he rolled out of the bed with a filled up condom, but she knew deep down inside of her that it wasn’t happening anytime soon. Y/N forced herself to nod weakly at Sam’s questions, and Bucky chuckled. “Oh, you poor dolly, we’re gonna have so much fun with you. Treat you better than that little boy ever could.”

All it took was a whimper, a nearly audible, deadly silent whimper that managed to squeak its way past Y/N’s throat, and the three men took it as permission to ravage her body however they pleased.

Steve made quick work of his pants as Sam lifted her chin to kiss him, his tongue hot and heavy against her mouth, coaxing her lips open. The sound of belt buckles hitting the floor shamefully turned on Y/N even more. Panic coursed through her senses, her mind wanting to scream for them to stop, but her body knew her too well as she felt a wave of slick run down her thighs. Cold metal digits slipped under the waistband of her panties, moving to her wet folds, and she whimpered into Sam’s mouth at the touch. 

“You look so nice, baby, so pretty all laid out for us like this.” Bucky’s hands pulled down her panties as Steve pinched her peaked nipple through the lace, laying lavish, open-mouthed kisses down her torso. The cool air hit her pussy when Bucky’s hands pulled her legs wide open, fully exposed to the three men ready to use her against her will. “Knew you’d be so wet for us, sweetheart, just look at you. Dripping all for your daddies,” Steve murmured against her skin.

Hot breath fanned over her cunt before they rolled her over on her stomach, someone’s hands forcing her up onto her knees with her face smashed into the cotton pillows. She could feel two rough human hands pulling her ass cheeks apart, spreading her ever wider for their view. “Would you look at that, boys, look how fucking hot she is for us.”

Sam’s thick finger ran through her folds, the calloused pad of his finger just teasing her clit before landing a harsh smack to the inside of her thigh. Her moan was muffled through the mattress and she prayed they wouldn’t hear how being treated like whore made her wet like nothing else. 

Hot slick dripped down her thighs, a pool of it staining the pristine sheets by each knee. It was quite a sight, Steve, kneeled by the bed as his face hovered next to her ear, whispering filthy things into her ear as Bucky stroked his hard, leaking cock right next to him. Sam’s lips were making their way up the inside of her right thigh, cracked skin gliding across her sticky flesh. “Oh, baby,” he purred, “you smell so good. Bet you taste even better, don’t you, little girl?”

His tongue reached the apex of her thighs, finally licking a stipe up her center with no warning. Y/N sobbed into the comforter below her, mascara stained tears marking up her face. Two fingers edged their way between the bed and her face, forcing her head upwards and arching her back. Steve’s face was caught in a dirty smirk above hers, lip pulled taut between his teeth, until he saw the tears trailing down her face. “Oh, sweetheart, you look so desperate like this.” His fingers traced her smeared lip gloss around her lips, before opening her lips harshly. “Open up, you dumb baby.”

Y/N forced her jaw open wider, just enough to watch a string of Steve’s saliva drip into her mouth. The thick spit pooled on her tongue and she tried hard not to grimace in front of him, in hopes that he wouldn’t make her- 

“Swallow it, sweetheart.” He saw the hesitation in her eyes, how her lower lip trembled at his words, but he just laughed at her. “Now.”

The warm saliva slid down her tongue and more black tears ran down her face as she obliged his orders, finally gulping it and cringing at the taste. Steve loved the way her face screwed up in displeasure, how she still had the audacity to pretend she hated what they were doing though she was moaning and whimpering with Sam’s tongue attacking her entrance.

“What do you want, sweetheart? We might give it to you as long as you use your words.” Bucky taunted lightly.

Y/N stared up at the brunette, staring menacingly down at her with his cock in hand. “Please,” she whimpered.

The three found it woeful, the way she could barely get a full sentence out as Sam went to town with his skilled tongue, but even with that onslaught, a simple please wasn’t enough for them.

“Please what, honey,” Sam moaned from between her legs, “you gotta use your big words or we’ll never know what you want from us.”

Steve and Bucky nodded in fake-agreement even though they all knew exactly what she wanted and where. 

“I don’t-” her widened eyes glanced into Steve’s, blown-out and teary. “I don’t want anything, not from you.” She lied through her teeth harshly.

Sam removed his head from between her thighs and Y/N immediately whined at the loss of contact almost hilariously. “You don’t want anything, little girl?” 

The air felt static, every hair on her neck rising in the pressured silence. The angel and the devil clawed at her heart, each trying to show her what was right. And she wanted to sin, God knew that she would love nothing more than to let that little greedy part of her take over, but she’d already cheated on Peter and that damn good part of her conscience stole the wheels of her brain.

Slowly and shamefully, she shook her head, though the downright dirty monster inside of her wanted the men to ignore her words and keep assaulting her body. 

“That’s a shame, baby, I thought we were having fun.” Sam sighed. He met Bucky’s gaze on the side, and though they seemed to be in resignation with her wishes, their eyes twinkled devilishly. He positioned his body over Y/N’s kneeled over form, his bare chest glued to her sweating back as his hands ran up the sides of her ribcage and to her front, just barely grazing over her sensitive nipples. “You mean, you don’t want me to touch you here?”

He pinched the darkened buds and she had to use every ounce of self-restraint to not collapse at the sensation. His calloused hands moved back even further, tracing down to the stretch of skin just above her mound, swiping a finger across the skin delicately. “How about here? Or even,” he brought three fingers around her body, over her ass, and into her glistening cunt again, just rubbing along her entrance, not daring to go further in. Y/N couldn’t hold in her reaction to his prodding anymore, his teasing chipping away all of her dignity and pride in a few simple touches. 

“Yes, please, please, use your fingers,” she blurted against her will. Where shame should have washed over her, there was only lust, raging red and coursing through her body so forcefully that she felt braindead. “Put your fingers in me, daddy, please.”

The pet name rolled off of her tongue so easily and she was barely ashamed of how it made her feel. The name especially shocked the three men, who smiled even wider with their cocks harder than before at the little slip up. “That was all you had to say, dolly, gonna have your daddies make you feel real good,” Bucky laughed.

Sam finally plunged his thick fingers knuckle-deep into her cunt as Steve’s mouth captured hers, effectively swallowing her scream with ferocity. The long digits scissored and swirled inside of her, pressing against new unexplored areas that she’d never even gotten to with her own fingers. White dots danced along the front line of her vision as teeth clashed against hers and though it’d been mere minutes she already knew she was close and the men did as well.

“I can feel you clamping around my fingers, honey,” Sam taunted. His lips were moving sinfully around her ass, planting sloppy kisses and drooling all over her skin while he fingered her deep. “Are you gonna come soon, baby?”

“Yes, daddy, I’m so- fuck,” Y/N panted into Steve’s mouth, “m’ so c-close.” The blond bit her tongue hard enough for her to taste blood and she yelped as she heard Sam and Bucky laugh. 

“Watch your language, dolly,” Bucky sneered from the side of the bed. His hand was rapidly moving around his cock, corkscrew motions edging him towards the brink of pleasure. 

“Little girls like you don’t get to use big swear words,” Sam’s face was still buried between her legs, his soaked fingers pulling out of her cunt only to rub at her little pearl of nerves in circles. His tongue still lapped at her dripping entrance and he could feel her tight hole start to pulse as her breathing picked up. “Oh, baby, you’re getting close, aren’t you?”

Y/N was hesitant to answer at first, the sweat on her body seeming to cool immediately in fear of what would happen if she messed up. But after five seconds Steve stopped kissing her, gripping her chin and staring into her eyes deeply. He looked as debauched as she felt, with his rosy lips swollen with spit and cheeks tinged with pink. “Are you gonna answer daddy, sweetheart?”

That knocked her into shape real fast.

“Yes, daddy, I’m so close. P-please let me come,” she whimpered. The whine in her voice pleased the two men, and Steve went back to exploring her mouth before she felt something poking against her asshole.

“Gonna let daddy put his cock in you, little girl?” Sam asked gently. His words had panic coursing through her system, a chilling realization like water being poured on her head and she began to wiggle around, trying to free Sam’s hand from her hip. Her arms weakly pushed at Steve’s chest, trying to push him as far away as he could, but the men only laughed at her flailing limbs. Y/N wanted to scream no to them, and despite her contrasting love-hate relationship with Sam’s fingers inside her cunt she knew it was time to go. It was laughable how much she would continue to say that to herself for the rest of the night. 

But Sam managed to sense her panic, knowing exactly what the issue was before harshly spanking her and effectively stopping her struggle. “Don’t worry, baby, I won’t come inside of you. I’m not risking knocking up a whore with my kids, I’ve got more dignity than that.”

He led the leaking tip of his dick down her crack, rubbing it along her slick entrance before pushing in with a groan. “Oh my fucking God, that is so hot.” Bucky admonished from the side. “Gotta get in on that soon.”

Steve chuckled against Y/N’s lips, pulling away with a strand of saliva connecting them. He adjusted himself up so his dick was centimeters from her face, a knee propped up on the bed for balance. “Gotta wait your turn, Buck, we all want a piece of her.” He noticed the way Y/N’s eyes were transfixed on his cock, the red mushroom head smeared with precome along the slit, nearly purplish veins standing out prominently on his shaft. Yeah, he couldn’t even deny that he was big because he already knew how many girls had dropped down on their knees for him. “Go ahead, sweetheart, open up those pretty lips for me.”

Almost too excitedly, she dropped her jaw, allowing him to slide his cock into the silky warmth of her mouth. As his hips started to thrust into her mouth, Sam’s started to do the same into her cunt. Both men moaned in tandem with their movements as Y/N’s worries faded away to the back of her mind as they stuffed her to the brim.

“You can come now, baby,” Sam nearly ordered, “go and cream on daddy’s cock- fuck, I know you’ve been waiting.”

It was a harsh bump of his head against her G-spot that sent her over the edge, walls clamping down with ferocity and milking him for all she was worth. Y/N reeled in the sunlight infested warmth that coursed through her body as she finally let go, whining around Steve’s dick as he continued to abuse her throat with long, deep thrusts. 

Bucky was still holding his orgasm off, fondling with his tight, heavy sac while his dick remained a painfully hard mess, glistening with precome. “I’m so glad I got to see you come, dolly, look so fucking pretty when you do.”

She couldn’t deny the little skip of her heart at the praise, just a few simple words that made her feel like a good little girl. But no, God-fucking no, she wasn’t supposed to let them make her feel this way. Guilt washed away that warmth in her chest just as quickly, knowing that her boyfriend was just waiting to come back to see her, finishing up his studies so that they could live their lives out together after college while she was getting her pussy and mouth absolutely wrecked by his co-workers. 

As soon as Y/N got her brain thinking straight again, Sam started moving inside of her again and she garbled out a strangled cry. “If you thought we were done here, baby,” Sam laughed, “you’ve got a lot left ahead of you.”

“We’re not leaving until all of us have come, brat.” Steve’s palm gripped the back of her skull roughly, pushing her head so far down on his dick that her nose was squished against his abdomen. “Greedy little bitch.”

Both men started to thrust into her again, and just like that she was back to being absolutely lost in desire and lust like the bitch in heat she was until there was a sudden shift in the air. So much that the sweat on her body began to cool her skin, Sam’s hands still gripping her hips so tightly she knew they’d leave marks that she would have to hide when she wore her favorite low-cut shorts. 

Bucky’s eyes seemed to drift from her tits moving with each movement of her hips, checking behind the door as if there were something lurking there, but she was too afraid to see for herself. If she stopped she would get spanked, and they’d probably prolong her second orgasm even further, and her pussy couldn’t handle any more subtle teasing.  

“Hey there, Parker, why don’t come on out here?”

But that, that was what made the hairs on Y/N’s neck rose, dread filling her to the fullest as she realized the implications of Sam’s words.

Peter had seen everything. Peter, her boyfriend, had seen three of his co-workers, three men who she barely knew, fuck her deep into his mattress. Peter, her boyfriend, had watched her get fucked into his mattress, without trying to stop them whatsoever.

She couldn’t tell if it was the guilt of cheating on her boyfriend or the freezing realization that he hadn’t done anything to stop the three men that hurt more. 

Yet Peter still walked from behind the door, dressed in a NYU hoodie and a pair of khakis slung low on his hips, just drawing attention to the sizable bulge that stretched out his zipper. His umber eyes, normally full of so much joy and love, were possessed by the same lust and darkness as the three men, as much as he tried to hide it behind a shyer facade. 

His eyes were trained on the tightness of how Y/N’s pussy was gripping Sam, her lips glossed over with come and spit wrapped around Steve’s dick. The girl stopped in her movements, her eyes no longer full of tears for just being gagged, but as soon as her mouth came to a halt around the base of his cock, the blond slapped her across the face. A sharp crack echoed around the room and though she couldn’t see him, she heard Bucky’s feral growl of pleasure at the whorish treatment she was receiving. 

“Didn’t say you could fucking stop, sweetheart, keep working on daddy’s cock.” No more words needed to be said as Steve gripped her hair once more, forcing himself farther back into her throat to the point where she couldn’t breathe. Sam’s thrusts were quickening, closer and closer to release as the sounds of the girl struggling to breath made his balls tighten. 

“Fucking shit, baby, you feel yourself squeezing my dick? I bet you like teasing daddy like that, don’t you?” One of his hands were brought down on her ass in a quick smack that resonated with Bucky, who was staving off his orgasm for something much sweeter than his hand. She was moaning raucously around the dick stuffed in her mouth, the vibrations sending jolts of pleasure up every nerve in Steve’s body as he came with the tip of his dick nearly being swallowed by Y/N’s throat. There was barely any time for her to fully down the thick come in her mouth before Sam was threatening to orgasm. “I’m gonna come so soon but you better fucking not, little girl, you hear me? Gotta let your daddy come before you, you ungrateful little bitch- oh.”

It was a really fucking close call, Sam’s dick pulling out of her with one quick movement before spilling pearly ropes of come onto Y/N’s spine. A high whine escaped her mouth, clit throbbing as she was so, so close to coming, and she was too far into her crazed pleasure to realize that she was letting three older men, men who fought to defend the universe from evil, use her as an over-glorified fleshlight. 

She couldn’t really blame them for calling her a cockdrunk whore. 

Bucky sauntered over to the bed, eyes trained on the pool of come centered around the base of her spine before flipping her over onto her back with his large hands and shoving three vibranium fingers back into her hole. She gasped and held onto his forearm as he continued to fingerfuck her to her second orgasm, eyes screwed shut in a delirious haze of contentment for being filled with at least something again. 

“Bucky, Bucky, Bucky, please-” Steve slapped her along the face, correcting her words immediately. “Daddy, daddy, please let me come.”

Bucky chuckled, tweaking one of her nipples with his flesh hand as he hovered over her face. “I don’t know, dolly, you’ve been a little naughty, callin’ me the wrong name, not listening to Stevie’s orders- don’t think you deserve to get what you want.”

A muffled whimper escaped her swollen lips, and he sighed in surrender. “Okay, dollface, go ahead and come on my fingers. Let me see how you wet ‘em up real good.”

Y/N’s hips bucked into his metal digits with finality, come leaking out of her cunt and soaking the sheets below her. Her sweat-glazed skin shone even against the darkening sky, and all Bucky could do was chuckle at how her chest rose quickly as she tried to catch her breath. He thought about teasing her clit again, just circling around the little bud of nerves to get a rise out of her, but he decided against it. Sam probably had better plans for her anyway. 

On the other hand, Y/N’s orgasm was starting to wear off as she noticed the hardened stare from the edge of the room. Her boyfriend.

“Peter, I…” Y/N made eye contact with him, suddenly noticing how mousy he looked in his own bedroom. 

“I nearly forgot you were here, Parker,” Sam smirked darkly. “Why don’t you come over here and fuck your little whore. I’m feeling a little generous today.”

Steve and Bucky nodded with the same infuriating smugness as Sam. The brunette boy opened his mouth to object to the degrading statement, but when he met his girlfriend’s eyes nothing needed to be said. There was no escaping this. Nothing he said mattered to the three older men, because really they had already gotten everything they wanted right in front of their disgusting, perverted eyes. 

He unbuckled his belt, letting the weight of it drop his khakis to the floor. Maybe if he’d known he would be forced into join a fivesome later that night he’d have picked any other boxers but the Ducktales one, but no one seemed to say a word about them, rather focusing on what they were failing to conceal. 

Peter’s cock had always been admirable to Y/N by its length and God, definitely its thickness. Curved upwards towards his abdomen with a vein running along the left side up to the bulbous head, it was definitely more than average. It was really just a shame he didn’t know how to use it well enough.

His shirt was pulled over his head just as quickly, and if Y/N knew any better she would say that he was excited to get to fuck her in front of the three men. He placed himself in between Y/N’s parted legs, standing in the same position as he had so many times before.

But when Y/N cried out in pain and pleasure as he slid into her, Peter knew that this time, it was different. This time three men, men that he used to trust with his life, stood on either side of him and his girlfriend and jerked their hands up and down their cocks as they watched her get fucked relentlessly. It wasn’t sweet, it wasn’t romantic, but he couldn’t really think when his thick cock was stuffed inside of her stimulated pussy, juices and come leaking out of her abused sex. 

“Go faster, Parker,” Steve instructed, his face contorted in pure pleasure. The pace of Peter’s thrusts sped up, and he threw Y/N’s ankles over his shoulders, hitting deeper inside of her, with the sound of her sobs only turning them all on more. “Oh, right there, shit, shit, shit-”

Steve came first, a low groan escaping his lips as streams of come landed on her tits, still bouncing with every movement of Peter’s hips. 

“Open up,” Sam gritted through his teeth, and Y/N obediently opened her mouth to let his bitter come coat the inside of her throat, some of it landing on her face and neck. The string of curses he let out made Peter thrust even faster into her, and he hated, absolutely despised the way it turned him on to see the three men use his girlfriend to their pleasure. But soon enough a hand pushed against his chest away from Y/N and he reluctantly pulled out.

“Move aside, kid,” Bucky instructed, “Wanna come inside of her.”

As he lined his gigantic cock up with her entrance, her eyes widened with fear. “No, please, I didn’t take my pills, I can’t- I won’t, please not inside-”

“Shut the fuck up, you slut.” Bucky’s fingers came to slap her clit harshly, and she cried out in pain. “You’re gonna be quiet and let me come wherever I damn want, right?”

He punctuated his last word as he thrust inside her, filling her up to the hilt with his girth. She was too drunk on the feeling of her cunt being filled up to argue again. It was painful, extremely so, even though two different cocks had been inside her overstimulated pussy already and Bucky stretched her out wide, his cock thicker with veins to hit every pleasure point. With her legs tossed around his tapered torso, he slid out until his very tip was left in her, then slammed back in with a small moan. The head of his cock relentlessly pounded into her cervix in a nearly soundless tempo and all Y/N could hear were her own gasps of pleasure, jaw-dropping moans that made drool slide back down her throat in her laid down position.

She turned her head to the side, and though her vision was bleary through the tears, she could see Sam and Steve watching Bucky fuck her while Peter, her boyfriend, her sweet, sweet boyfriend, was caught up fucking his hand to the sound of Bucky’s balls slapping against her ass. 

“Fuck, ‘m not gonna last much longer, dollface.” Bucky gasped. “You gonna come soon? You’re gonna come for daddy one more time. I think you’ve got a third one in you, you little fucking slut.”

“Shit, shit, daddy, please ‘m almost there,” Y/N wailed absentmindedly. A thumb came down to circle her clit quickly and she felt the coil in her stomach grow tighter and tighter, until she finally let out a high whine, finding her release as Bucky’s cock pulsed inside of her, ready to come just as easily as her. Her pussy clenched around his cock as she rode out her orgasm, fingers grasping at the sheets in order to find some sort of grounding. His come painted her walls white, and Bucky could’ve sworn there was no better feeling than feeling his blood warm in every vein as he finally let go. With stunted groans, his hips slowed its rhythm, lost in watching how his cock disappear into Y/N’s pussy, her slick juices coating his dick each time he pulled out. 

“Ah, fuck, dolly, you did so good for me. Pussy tight as a fuckin’ vice.” Bucky hugged her limp body close to his sweaty chest, letting his dick soften inside of her for a good few moments before pulling out. He tossed Y/N back onto the bed below him, barely even caring to clean the come dripping down her ribcage and out of her cunt before grabbing his boxers from the cabinet next to the bed. 

Steve was already buttoning his jeans up, checking the notifications on his phone before shoving it back into his pocket. The blond seemed to have better things to do so soon after, rushing his way to the door before pausing where Y/N laid to watch come drip out of her pussy. One more time he pushed Bucky’s come inside of her abused entrance, watching as it oozed out from behind his digits. “Look at you, fucking full of of his come. Such a goddamn whore,” he muttered under his breath.

Those were the last words he said to her before patting Bucky on the shoulder and leading him out of the opened door. 

Maybe Sam was a bit more kind, or affectionate at least. He was already dressed but visibly hard again beneath the thick denim of his pants, and he made sure Y/N knew it, taking her left hand and placing it over his dick. “You still got that effect on me, honey, even when you’re all fucked out like this.” He dragged his fingers through the thick ribbons of come that coated her chest, bringing them up to her mouth so she could taste. Even though she was more than exhausted, she wrapped her tongue around the two fingers that were pushed past her swollen lips, sucking them clean with a tired vengeance. Satisfied with her work, he kissed her chin one more time before leaving without so much as another word, slamming the door shut on his way out.

Click.

It ended exactly the way it started, the lock jostling into the doorknob just as easily as the high of Y/N’s final orgasm slipped away.

Stifling silence suffocated the room around them. Peter refused to meet her eyes, just as much as hers did his. She laid motionless on the bed with him standing at the foot, his dick soft and if she narrowed her bleary eyes just a bit, she could see how his knees were shaking. Neither of them were able to say anything, losing the ability to converse as soon as the three men left the room.

“Peter,” her voice was throaty after the rough fucking she took, “C-can you please get me a drink?”

The brown-haired boy looked down to meet her face, and she could finally see the reason that he had hid it from her. His eyes were red and bloodshot, snot running from his nose with tears running down his cheeks. She’d been so caught up in the after haze of the sex that she didn’t even notice how his bare chest was heaving so deeply, nearing hyperventalation. 

But still, he grabbed his boxers, pulling them over his weakened legs clumsily. “Y-yeah, what kind do you want, Mr. Stark has a ton-”

“I don’t care.” She cut him off firmly, a sharp tone in her voice as she rolled over on her side. Y/N tucked her knees to her chin, fingers running over the side of her neck which was marked with bruises and scratches. “I don’t fucking care.”

Without another word Peter slipped out of the room quietly, knowing better than to try to talk to her about what they had been forced to participate in. It wasn’t as if there was much to say anyways.

Rain pattered against the window. It was only six o’clock in the evening. Cars honked and beeped and Natasha’s Igor Stavinsky record played for its fiftieth round of the day, and to anyone else in the tower it was a normal night. Normal, just like the ones spent sitting on the couch with Bucky’s hand creeping up her leg or Sam’s hands groping her ass, but this time they’d made a move. 

The silence was far too much to handle, the unspoken truth of what she’d done with Bucky, Steve, Sam, and Peter finally hitting her, knocking the air out of her lungs as she suddenly struggled to breathe. Gripping her face, clawing at it like a goddamn wolf, Y/N began to cry. Silently at first, gradually growing into heartbroken sobs, she let her trodden pride carry her voice wherever it wanted to go. 

The men’s whispered words haunted her mere moments after they’d left the room, but most audibly she could hear a faint husk of a voice, Sam’s low moan in her ear looming in the dreadful silence of the room:

Thanks for sharing with us, baby.

#dark!bucky x reader #dark!bucky x y/n #dark!steve rogers smut #dark!sam wilson x reader #dark!stucky x reader #dark!bucky barnes smut #d #dark!bucky barnes x reader #dark!sam wilson #dark!bucky barnes #dark!steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #sam wilson x reader #sam wilson x you #steve rogers smut #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x reader smut #bucky fanfic #tw cheating #tw noncon #tw dubcon #18+ minors bye bye

[hxnmantii]

Good little Kitten

tw: Dacryphilia, edging, pet play, a bit of degradation, mirror sex, humping, foot job (?), a bit of praising as well, Mentions of Master

Rating: M for Mature (+18)

Pairing: Sub! Kageyama x Gn!reader

A/n: Dom! Tobio this and Dom! Tobio that but what about Sub!Tobio hmmm?? Pillow Prince! Tobio?? Representantion people. Anyways this is my first fic for @ultimate-astridwriting event as well as my first smut I’ve written on here so please look forward to it. Creative criticism and comments are appreciated!

It all started with the stupid nickname Kitten. His teammates started calling Kageyama that after coming to the realization that he was not only obsessed with milk but had similar behavior traits of a cat. It didn’t really bother him much though. As long as it didn’t intervene with you or volleyball, he didn’t give a rats ass what they called him unless it was ‘the king’ but even then he became used to the insulting nickname. The real problem that sparked the flame was when you started calling him kitten, one of his teammates running their big mouthes to you about it.

Ever since then you slyly tuned into buying more cat items, coming home each day with something cat related whether it was stickers, thigh highs, or a cat bottle. Kageyama accepted the gifts nonetheless because he enjoyed the extra attention that came with it. That why he was unsurprised when you came home today carrying another baggie from the store.

“Y/n what’s in the bag?” He asks, his blueberry eyes watching your every move. He just knew that you were up to something, the ridiculously big smile on your face evident to that. You shimmy towards him before pulling out your lug for the day. A realistic looking black tail that ended with a silver metal plug, matching kitten ears and a collar met his curious glaze and he froze. To say that he didn’t even have the heart to ask what it was an understatement. At this point he just grateful you haven’t tried to feed him cat food.

“Who is this all for?” His voice meeting a range of disinterest although internally he was all over the place. It didn’t effect your excitement in the slightest for all you did was lean in closer. He audibly gulps.

“For you, babe.” You say as you push the stuff towards him only for it to meet his refusing hand. He pushes it back to you, an awkward smile on his face so he can politely decline.

“Oh..uh no thank you. I’m not into cosplay.” You giggle. You drop the cat toys on the couch to place your hand on his cheek and caress his cheekbones, his head naturally leaning into your touch. The smile never leaves your face as you watch him soak in your warmth. He look up only for his eyes to widen at the soft look of lust and adoration on your face. He can’t help but turn away from your daunting glaze, his cheeks turning a light pink. Of course, You don’t accept that because you slide into his lap and force him to look into your eyes by firmly but gently gripping his chin.

“It’s not cosplay silly. It’s pet play!” Your eyes are only met with confusion. His innocence was both pure and daunting. With volleyball being his main priority over everything expect recently you, it’s not a surprise. You explain to him what pet play was and how you use the tail. The color of tomato was understatement of what color he turned but you continued to stroke his cheek in hope that he was relax again.

The idea of completely surrending himself over to you whilst you coddle him and call him a good kitten but make him act like a cat gets him undeniably excited. He would never confess out loud though. But you knew, you always knew. Understanding Kageyama was like reading a book, his expressions that he could never hold back, telling you all that you needed to know. His dick twitches which doesn’t go unnoticed.” C’mon baby what do you say?”

“I want to be your kitten, Master. Please let me be your kitten.” Your Cheshire Cat grins returns and you hop off his lap to sit next to him. Piling up the toys into the bag, you wordlessly nod towards the bedroom and he’s instantly up and walking at almost an excited speed walk.

You meet him in the room to see him patiently waiting for you on the bed. You tsk while shaking your head disappointedly. “This won’t do. Kittens don’t sit on the bed especially not if they’ve been outside. Get down.”

No questions asked, he’s on the floor immediately although confused. He’s seen cats sleep on the bed so why was he not allowed on the bed. He wanted to ask questions but he was too embarrassed at his lack of knowledge on this topic to even muster enough courage to look at you. His eyebrows unconsciously furrow in concentration. You chuckle.

“Baby,” his eyes snap up to met yours, your amused glaze reigning down on him. “You’re thinking too hard about this. Not everything I tell you is going to be just like what a cat would do, okay? Remember this is just foreplay.”

“Yes Master.”

“Good.” You crotch down to his level, a smile decorating your face. You caress his face before running your hands through his black hair and similar to a cat he hums happily, leaning into your wispy touch. Your eyes widen. He was too damn cute.

"Such a good kitten," you whisper. Once again taking your place above him. "Strip and stick your ass in the air."

He hesitates momentarily, another bright red blush blooming across his face as his eyes drag towards the floor and he starts pulling his clothes off one by one, the silence only furthering his embarrassment. You leave him to it so you could bring the body length mirror from out the closet. Standing in front of him, you block him from looking at himself yet.

"You're going to look so cute as my kitten, baby." You whisper whilst putting the black cat ears on, the collar following afterwards. You then move behind him, the tail and lube in your hands. "Color?"

"Green" he mutters. You smile and rub your hands up and down his back in attempt to soothe his nerves. It's not like he hasn't taken anything bigger but exploring new kinks always made him nervous. "Okay kitten, i need you to keep your eyes on me. The whole time. Understand?"

“Yes Master.” You can hear him gulp before he lifts his head up to meet your eyes in the mirror . You give him a reassuring smile before drenching your hands in the slippery liquid and sticking your index finger. Immediately, you’re rewarded with a low moan. His moan spurs you on as you continue to slip it in out of his tight hole, making wet lewd sounds that only made his dick harder.“P-please more Master” He ask. In response, you kiss his strong back. “Of course my cute little kitten since you asked so nicely.”

You slide in your second finger next to the first and search for that spongy spot. You know you find it when he lets out a high pitched moan, arching his back more so he could meet your thrusting. You took it upon yourself to grab his dick and match your finger’s pace. His moans only getting louder.Every whine and mewl was absolute heaven to your ears as he allowed himself to be immersed by the pleasure he was receiving. Oh god he was almost there. The way you expertly fucked his hole while stimulating his dick at the same time had him closing his eyes, his arms getting weak with each bolt of pleasure.

His dick pulses. The ending was right in hindsight but just as he was about to cum, you stop and take your fingers off of him. He cries out, his eyes snapping open into the mirror. His tear filled eyes meet your disappointed ones. “What a bad kitten. Didn’t I tell you to keep your eyes on the mirror?” His frown deepens as he nods. “And aren’t you suppose to tell me when you come? Tsk tsk That’s two rules you just broke baby. Now I’ve gotta punish you.”

“W-wait I didn’t mean to...please..” His ocean eyes filled with tears that pulled your heartstrings and you almost considered not punishing him, almost. You unexpectedly stick your fingers back in his hole and add a third finger. A high pitch mewls escape his lungs as he grips the floor at the overwhelming pleasure. Quickly he was brought back to that high and once again he was pleading to cum. You continue the abuse on his hole only to snatch your hands out of his hole again. “Color?”

“FUCK! GREEN! PLEASE GO” You place a kiss on his ass and rub his hips soothing, watching his every expression through the mirror as you slide the large metal plug in. He lets out a silent moan at the feeling of being so full so quickly, his legs trembling with the new weight that kissed his prostate. At this point, his tears had spilled over, racing down his fac as he releases a shaky breath. “You did so well kitten. I’m so proud of you. Just look at how cute you look with your tail.”

He didn’t know when but at some point he had let his head fall to the ground. He slowly lifts his head and forces himself to sit upright, the tail sliding in deeper and putting more pressure on his prostate. The overwhelming pleasure makes him double over and he lets out a pussy throbbing moan. It was just too much so instead of looking at himself, he turns to look up at you with the biggest puppy eyes while grabbing your leg. Any humiliation he had earlier was thrown out, his only concern now being the ache in between his legs as he humps your leg pathetically. You can’t help but chuckle.

“It seems like your team has gotten it wrong. You’re more like a bitch in heat than a cute kitten.”

“Ahh p-please Master...I’ve been good..g..ood...I’m your good boy pleas.” You shake your head. You spoil him absolutely rotten. Removing your leg from his grasp, you salutner over to the bed.

“You’re lucky you’re pretty. Come sit in front of the bed.” Without telling him, he crawls to sit in front of you. He’s a trembling mess due to the tail still putting pressure on his prostate. A shiver runs through you as his tears run anew.

“You may cum but only from the tail and my foot.” He whines but comes closer none the less, grabbing your foot to apply pressure to his tortured, weeping dick. To make it a bit more fun, you turn on the vibration tail and he screams out in pleasure, almost cumming right then and there. You watch in amusement as he struggles to buck his hips against your foot, sobbing out incoherent words about cumming.

“Oh god ‘lease...ahhh p-lease can I-I c..um” he sobs.

“Go ahead kitten.” He sits back on the tail and allows the vibration to set him off. He’s cum hard, the fluid flying across his chest and almost touching his face. The aftershocks shake his body violently allowing him to let out one prolonged moan. You allow the vibration to run until he’s whimpering out from overstimulation. Immediately,he’s in your arms, breathing harshly in the crook of your neck.“You did so good baby. You’re such a good boy. Can you lay on your stomach for me?”

He silently nods and weakly moves onto his stomach so you could remove the tail. He lets out a high whine as you slowly pull the large butt plug out before helping him sit back up into your arms. You pass him the water that had been sitting on the nightstand while getting out the baby wipes and cleaning his body. He puckers his lips and you happily indulge, giving him a soft kiss before taking off the ears and collar.

“Thank you.” He whispers bashfully. You smile at him and run your hand through his hair; his hum of content vibrating into your chest. “Now let’s move to the bed okay?” He nods again and lifts himself into the bed, your worried self following. He pulls you into his chest and you snuggly up, the both of you falling asleep with smiles on your face.

#Kageyama x reader #Kageyama smut #tobio x reader #hq imagines #hq smut #Haikyuu smut #haikyu x reader #tobio Kageyama x reader #pretty boys stay by the throne #princess’s red room

[cant-think-of-anything-creative]

OoooOOooooOooo guess what!!! This scene well and truly won't leave me alone so I have spent another night writing up my Thoughts and Ideas into something somewhat comprehensible!!!! I blame @jackdaw-kraai @darthstitch @bookwyrmie completely, congratulations y'all!!!!! You Did This!!!!!! 🤣🤣

In the middle of a crowded ballroom, Vader and the child currently held in his arms stared at each other. Luke had handed her to him before he fully understood that what he was receiving was in fact both alive and a small child, and not something inanimate and, say, less fragile. While he tried to recall what to do with an infant, she did something that, in hindsight, he should have expected.

She reached up and hooked her tiny fingers into the slots of his respirator.

"I would advise against that, child," he said.

"Aba," she babbled at him, her other hand joining the first.

"This is not a plaything," he gently added. A pop-up on his HUD alerted him to a blockage and the estimated time he could stay conscious with the decreased rate of oxygen. "It is a vital piece of medical equipment. I must ask you to treat it as such."

He carefully guided her hands away and continued to fend off her attempts to touch either his mask or the unit on his chest. Eventually she settled for his hand, gripping his thumb and pinky finger and manipulating them as much as she could.

"Thank you for your compromise," Vader said.

The child strung together a set of nonsensical syllables that nonetheless had Vader nodding.

He stood there for a while, half-listening to Luke's conversation and letting the child play with his hand until she got bored. His attention was recaptured when she began making small distressed sounds, ones that dredged up a spark of foreboding within him.

"What is it?" he asked her. "Are you hungry, perhaps?"

He looked at the selection of food -- none of it designed for a child. Moreover, he had no idea what kind of preferences or allergies this one may or may not have.

She whined more insistently and stuck her fingers into her mouth.

Vader turned to Luke, still chatting animatedly with his fellows. He placed a hand on his shoulder to get his attention.

"I will return," he said.

"Sure," Luke agreed, patting Vader's hand, and launched right back into his conversation. Vader looked to the guards stationed at the perimeter of the ballroom and only then did he release Luke's shoulder.

He walked a little ways over to the buffet tables and took a knife and fork from the offered cutlery.

"Look, child," he murmured, tilting the utensils this way and that so the glinting of the light caught her attention. Her eyes latched onto the shiny metal, reaching for them with the hand not currently occupied. Her distressed coos tapered off slightly, but began to rise again when Vader wouldn't let her grab them.

"Hm, not so interesting for you, I think," he mused. "But you may hurt yourself if I allow you to hold them."

She looked at him crossly, wisps of her brows furrowed in caricature of what she'd observed of others. She took her hand out of her mouth to babble insistently and slap the arm holding her, smearing saliva across the dark leather.

"Very well," Vader sighed. "Perhaps there is a mutually agreeable solution."

A fine ribbon of the Force wound around them, pulled deftly from the fabric of reality by an old weaver's hand -- the utensils rose on invisible strings, twirling gently around each other like a mobile. It had a similar effect, as well; the child returned her attention to them, now silent but for the small grunts she made as, again, she tried to reach out.

"I agree," he nodded. "A tactile distraction would be best. But these have far too many points for you to prick yourself on, child."

He twitched his fingers and the utensils collided midair, bending around and around each other until there was a packed ball of metal. One could hardly tell where fork ended and knife began. The metal squealed quietly as it was bent into shape, and the more pressure Vader Forced upon it the more it began to glow a red heat. The child watched as the color changed to a burning orange and eventually a bright, molten white.

Vader held the condensed ball of silver at arm's length, thankful now for the wide berth people tended to give him at these functions.

"I believe you would quickly become dissatisfied a simple ball. Would you not agree?" Vader asked. The child, now that it was well and truly out of her grasp, was already looking around with a lazy, hooded eye. "Hm. Something more complex, then."

He turned back to the metal and began twisting. Some sections pulled apart, some connected together, until the latticework of a great dodecahedron rested above his hand, spinning on all axes so he could ensure the angles were correct from every direction. A shape that would occupy her for some time, hopefully. He carefully rounded each vertex and smoothed every edge, and double-checked it with precision.

Then, once he was satisfied, he began to wick away the heat held within the metal. Slowly, the silver set and hardened. He had to be careful, so the lattice did not cool in sections and split apart.

The child began whining again. Vader idly tucked her more securely against his chest, mindful of his life support -- but something inside him he could not name seemed to both stir and settle once she laid her head on his shoulder.

"Almost finished," he consoled her. "I have to make sure it is not too hot for you."

Eventually, Vader released his grasp of the Force and the dodecahedron fell into his hand, cooled completely to ambient temperature. He turned it over once more, a last check for burs or points that he might have missed.

"Here you are, child. Will this hold your attention?"

She took it from him and immediately placed a rung into her mouth. If she minded the taste, she did not show it.

"I am glad to see it," Vader nodded. "This is the framework of a great dodecahedron, which is a regular polyhedron. Many are taught that there are only five regular polyhedra, but there are actually forty-eight in three-dimensional Euclidean space."

She looked up at him with attentive eyes and removed the shape to talk to him, waving the latticework about.

"Exactly. Perfectly foolish to exclude all but the platonic solids."

She resumed her chewing. Vader began explaining the finer points of three-dimensional geometry, and her attentiveness as a pupil only wavered once he started on hexagonal tiling. (Which was more than fair, in Vader's opinion -- the tilings were the least interesting of the lot.) He continued as her eyes drooped and she settled in his arms, turning her new toy in her hands as she listened.

Suddenly, the great dodecahedron fell to the floor, clinking softly to a stop a few paces away. Vader looked down and stilled in surprise; the child was laid fully on his chest and shoulder, eyes closed and breathing deeply in relaxed and restful slumber. She seemed unconcerned by the hard metal of his mantle, but he dared not shift and risk waking her.

He looked for the dodecahedron and found instead Luke, already rising with it in his grip and making his way over.

"This is cool," the boy said, twirling it in his hands. "Where'd you get it?"

"I crafted it from cutlery," Vader replied, wincing at the volume of his vocoder.

"Woah, neat!" Luke took a closer look at it. "I can't see any seam lines."

"No," Vader confirmed. By the grin Luke flashes at him, his tone had a prideful air to it. The vocoder interpreted his chuckle as a small burst of static.

Luke's smile turned sweet, looking to the child in his arms.

"How is she?" he asked, still fiddling with the toy. "Sorry I handed her off so abruptly. I got caught up."

"It was no trouble, little one," Vader dismissed his apology. "...She fell asleep."

"Ohhh," Luke cooed, hand to his cheek. "That's so precious. I wish I brought my datapad."

"And I am rather glad you did not," Vader lightly countered.

Luke rolled his eyes. "Aw, come on. If I took a picture I wouldn't share it with anybody."

Vader was about to reply when--

POP!

At the other end of the table, a burst of applause followed as someone uncorked a bottle of carbonated wine. The child flinched awake in Vader's arms, blinked twice at the loud and bright surroundings, and heaved in a breath.

"Oh no," said Luke, right before she began to wail.

Vader hesitantly pat her back -- his mantle was too hard to bounce her on unless he wanted to give her a concussion. He looked to Luke, whose arms were already extended.

"Can I...?" Luke asked, and Vader readily handed her over. Luke started swaying in place, rubbing her back in gentle circles. "You were doing great, it's just--"

"My armor is not designed for comfort," Vader agreed. "I believe you are much better equipped for her, little one."

Luke's eyes stayed on him for a beat longer than he expected.

"Yeah, I guess not," he eventually agreed. He turned to the child still crying on his shoulder. "But wow, you've got a set of pipes on you, huh? Hey, what's this? You remember this? Did Lord Vader make it for you?"

Luke managed to catch the child's attention once more, her cries diminishing to hiccuping sobs once she had hold of the latticework again. After a couple of minutes it was back in her mouth, and Vader went to retrieve a napkin from the table so Luke could wipe her face.

While at the table, he let his irritation bleed into the space around him and the Dark responded, prickling eagerly up his neck. The gathered crowd immediately quieted and scampered off to another, less disruptive location.

"She really likes it," Luke said when he returned.

"Indeed. She is an exemplary student."

"Is that what you were talking about over here?" he asked, smiling. "Weird math stuff?"

Vader crossed his arms. "It is a fairly simple geometrical concept. She grasped upon the context immediately."

"Aw," Luke crooned. "That's the cutest thing I've ever heard. You're gonna be a scientist one day, huh, sweetling?"

He poked lightly at her belly, just enough to make her laugh -- and drop the dodecahedron. Vader buoyed it with a quick reaction of the Force, guiding it once more into her hands.

She stared at it with wide eyes, then brought it overhead and threw it.

"Oh yeah," Luke said as Vader retrieved it once again. "A scientist for sure."

#original #my stuff #the guides verse #the beginning is a little rough because i started writing in the middle #but hey!! it's there lol #no cape sling this time unfortunately :( #i couldn't fit it narratively but you KNOW it happens the next time Vader's handed a sleepy baby #vader steals more cutlery but this time he makes one of those nordic ring cape fasteners #eventually palpatine runs out of silverware #i can't figure out how to add a read more break on mobile I'm sorry y'all 😔😔😔

[twofrontteethstillcrooked]

3 Oct. Suptober: Rainbows

With his finger, Dean traced the outline of one of the rainbows arced on Cas's knee. "Is it weird that rainbows remind me of you?"

s15 au; deancas

In hindsight, Cas was preoccupied, not only by the task at hand but by the person he was undertaking it on behalf of, which was likely why he didn't realize he had company in the bunker kitchen until Sam said, "Hey, Cas," and Cas almost fumbled the glass into the sink. 

"Oof, sorry," Sam rushed to say next. 

His expression was a variety of things, none of which Cas clocked as fundamentally apologetic while he refilled the glass. 

Sam cleared his throat. "Whatcha doing?"

Cas squinted at him. Maybe Sam was drunk, or ill. "Just getting a drink of water." He left the statement there; Sam had seen him consume water before.

Sam fidgeted with the hem of his t-shirt and did not look at Cas. "Sure. You." He made some kind of gesture with his hands that did not seem relevant to anything. "You seen Dean lately?"

"He's asleep," Cas offered, since he knew it to be correct.

"In his room?" Sam's voice cracked on the second word.

Cas drew out the word 'yes' into something of a question. What was Sam looking at on the ceiling anyway?

"His room. Which. You just left?" Sam bounced on the balls of his feet for a second.

Cas looked around for intruders, hex bags, strange fogs, spooky auras, blood stains, a bucket of empty beer cans -- something that might explain why Sam was speaking like someone who'd just learned English. 

"Yes, Dean's room." 

Cas suppressed a smile that wanted to surface as his thoughts quickly flitted to Dean -- Dean curled boneless beneath a body-warmed blanket, his eyelashes fanned dark against the tops of his freckled cheeks -- and back again. He sat the glass in the sink and stepped toward Sam carefully.

"Uh huh. Okay." Sam took a step backwards. His line of sight popped back up to the light fixture. "Wearing. ...What it is you're wearing?

Cas glanced down past his bare chest to the flannel covering his legs. "Pajamas?"

Sam nodded a series of tight little nods, like an invisible puppeteer controlling him was getting restless. "Okay. Okay. And Dean is." He didn't trail off as much as seem to run out of ideas for the rest of the sentence.

"Asleep," Cas reminded him. 

Another Sam nod. "Right." 

"He tends to fall asleep for a while within thirty or so minutes after we--"

"Dude," Sam said. 

Understanding clicked into place. "Ah. I apologize, Sam," Cas said, with a small sinking sensation in his stomach. "I did assume Dean had told you." 

He was leaving out some words, and he didn't mean to play coy; it just seemed like perhaps Sam would prefer fewer details over more with regards to -- how to say diplomatically? -- recent developments.

"Dean tell me? Really?" Sam stared at him directly for the first time the whole encounter. His pupils were big black dots reminiscent of the ones he'd had when they were all cartoons for a while.

"No." Cas paused. "But I did think maybe you just knew." 

An honest confession, since Sam, a skilled hunter with decades of experience beneath his proverbial belt, was often quite good at discerning patterns beneath the surface of verbal communication. Cas had not always been as certain of his own feelings as he was in the present. Indeed, it had taken years for what he felt for Dean -- unfamiliar, prismatic impulses occasionally strong enough to almost bring Cas to his knees -- to coagulate into something fierce and unshakeable that could in part be described in words, much less translatable to more tangible actions. Just because Cas had been slow to realize the depths of his own emotions didn't mean Sam had been.

Except.

Sam's eyebrows jumped into his hairline like worms fleeing chicken beaks. 

"What," he choked out. "Why. No. How would I have known about--" He was flinging his hands around again. "--This?" The hands flew toward Cas like Sam was casting a spell at him. "You are like my brother."

"Um," Cas said.

"And Dean is my brother."

"Uh--"

"And I have literally heard him refer to you as our brother."

"Right.”

"Like, we're all brothers here." Sam gave a helpless chuff of laughter.

"Okay."

"So you understand," Sam continued, "why I might be concerned that my two brothers are apparently sleeping together." The volume of his voice went lower in direct counter to its pitch by the end of the sentence.

Cas chose not to comment on this, nor on the shadow that lurked in the doorway and then dissipated. He said instead, "I don't really sleep all that much, but I take your point."

Sam buried his face in the palms of his hands. 

"I'm." Cas swallowed. He stood a bit taller, the way a soldier might when either respectfully yielding to an enemy or accepting that opponent's surrender -- not that Sam was a villain here. "I'm sorry you found out this way, Sam."

"It's." Sam took a deep breath, then coughed once. "You don't have to apologize."

"Sam, could you... There is nothing on the ceiling that could be that interesting."

"You have nothing to be sorry about." Sam spoke like he meant it, or at least wanted to mean it.

Cas let out an inward sigh of relief. "All right."

"The stress," Sam said. "What we do. Monsters. Apocalypses, plural. It's-- I know it's a lot." Now he had slipped into hunter wrangler mode, all rallying the troops and leftover law school pragmatism. "And I can see how the two of you might, you know, need to blow off some steam. Sometimes."

"Sam--"

"Dean always does get a little antsy when he goes a while without." Sam shook his head like he'd realized this was absolutely not a topic he wanted to think about. "You know."

"Sam," Cas said sharply.

"I'll stop talking now."

"I'm in love with your brother, Sam." Those truest words were spoken so easily that once upon a time it might have bothered Cas; in the present, it assuredly did not. He let Sam gape for a moment and then softened the statement with, "It's not just a casual, friends with insurance sort of thing for me. For the record. If that helps."

Sam looked like the human equivalent of the little tri-colored beachball that would spin and spin onscreen when one of his computer tablets got overwhelmed. Finally, his eyes cleared. "All right." His mouth quirked. "The phrase is 'friends with benefits.'" 

Cas blinked. "Insurance is often a benefit extended to citizens in the United States, isn't it?"

"Less often than's helpful," Sam said.

Cas nodded. The two of them stood there by the sink, not really looking at each other. A thought came to Cas.

"I love you too--"

"Dude," Sam said.

Cas held up a hand. "--But I'm not in love with you." This distinction was one that had taken him a long time to understand; it seemed worth sharing.

The ceiling had recaptured Sam's fascination, but he was smiling when he said, "I know." He clapped Cas on the shoulder. "I love you too."

Cas returned the smile. "You, and Dean, and Jack -- you are all my family."

"Yeah." Sam ducked his head, as if pleased. "Yeah, I know."

Cas picked the glass of water up out of the sink. He raised it to Sam in a small toast. "Okay. I'm going to go back to Dean's room now."

"'Night, Cas."

Cas padded back down the hallway, opened Dean's squeaky door, and crept inside the room. The bedside lamp had been turned on. He watched the blanketed lump in the middle of the mattress for movement before asking quietly, "How much of that did you hear?"

"Most of it." Dean sat up and yawned. He scratched at the side of his head where his hair was sticking out. The blanket puddled below his pelvis. Cas glanced away like he hadn't personally and enthusiastically pressed those hipbones into the mattress less than an hour before.

When Cas walked around and put a knee on the bed, Dean said, "I also wanted water."

Cas bumped his arm with the glass. "This is for you."

"Oh," Dean said, taking it from him. "Thanks."

"Because I don't drink all that much water."

"Right."

"Because I don't sweat as much as you do."

"Hmm. You sweat some," Dean said, a hint of slyness in his tone. He leaned away to leave the water glass on the bedside table.

Cas sat on the edge of the mattress and let Dean scoot up to him. "Are you bragging about making me sweat?"

"Mmm," Dean said, splaying his hand over Cas's clavicle. 

"You should probably talk to Sam in the morning."

"This is the morning."

"Later, then."

Dean wrapped his arms around Cas's waist like he owned the span of it. "Yeah, that's not going to happen."

"Maybe you could just--

"Nooo." 

A sharpness tapped underneath Cas's ribcage, an angel blade's point pressed with deliberate aim. It took a minute before he could speak. He gathered his courage. "If you want to stop--"

"No." The word fell from Dean like Cas had knocked it out with his fist. His eyes were fever bright and anguished, and another, better ache flooded Cas's chest at the sight. "No."

"I am very much in love with you." Cas took a breath. "Sam's reaction, I know, wasn't entirely out of nowhere." 

Dean tipped his forehead to Cas's. "I don't think he was objecting so much as he was surprised--"

"I'm only saying, I have thought of you both as my brothers, at various times in the past." Cas studied, not for the first time, a collection of freckles on Dean's shoulder. "I still think of Sam as a brother, in a way. He may not be incorrect that the situation, as it has evolved, is something a bit… Atypical." He considered a further implication. "And each of us is one of Jack's dads."

Dean huffed, a bluff since his fingertips were memorizing Cas's vertebrae like he planned to sketch them later. "Well. We can't all be the goddamn Waltons, or whoever."

Cas agreed, "We definitely do not live on a farm." He let himself sway toward the ardent way Dean was looking at him. "It might be nice to live on a farm, with cows and ducks, maybe some sheep--"

"And I am very much in love with you too," Dean said softly. He pressed his lips to Cas's cheek.

"Yeah?" Cas's eyes felt hot.

"Yep."

Cas thought to say, "You know, Sam is exactly who you raised him to be: a good man."

At that, Dean squeezed his eyes shut. "New rule," he said hoarsely after several seconds. He wiped his eyes and shook his head. "We cannot talk about Sam, like. When we're not even dressed."

Cas stretched out his right leg and wiggled his foot. "I have on these pajamas pants. Can no-one else see them? They're covered in so many things."

This was an understatement. Technically, the pattern contained no less than the following items: rainbows, unicorns, blue whales, yellow stars, shield-wielding pugs, and anti-whale flags, whatever and why-ever those were. Put simply, the pajama pattern was like an indecipherable code of images that seemed to illustrate the illicit drug use of the manufacturer's designer.

With his finger, Dean traced the outline of one of the rainbows arced on Cas's knee. "Is it weird that rainbows remind me of you?"

Cas thumbed a spot on Dean's throat, his mouth going dry with the desire to taste the pulse fluttering there. "In my celestial wavelength form, I suppose I would be more closely related to a visually-deducible electromagnetic wave than I would be a pug riding a whale into glorious battle."

"These pajamas are a work of art," Dean contended, kissing Cas's temple. "Hmm."

"What?"

"I guess that story about God -- Chuck -- using a rainbow to seal a promise about never again destroying earth with a flood is just apocrypha, huh?"

Cas thought about it. "Yes. Unfortunately." He tried not to sigh. "Sometimes I have to remind myself Chuck created some beautiful wonders despite...being who he is."

"Yeah. Going out after a hard rain and seeing a rainbow's colors arching through the clouds -- still seems hopeful." Dean started pulling Cas down beside him on the mattress. "Maybe that's what reminds me of you."

Unable to speak, Cas tucked his face into Dean's throat. 

Dean's fingers were slipping beneath the waistband of the pajamas, ever so slowly. "Anyway, these are mine." Cas hummed an affirmative. "I would like them back," Dean said.

"Now?" Cas heard himself gasp.

Dean pressed him onto his back to nose his way down the line of Cas's breastbone, his warm breath teasing over cooled skin and coaxing out a shiver Cas felt splintering through his whole body. 

"I would settle for you just not having them on at the moment," Dean said, using both hands to reclaim his property, and before raising up to kiss anything Cas might have wanted to say in response entirely out of his mouth.

#spn #suptober21 #fic #deancas #suptober #destiel

[thestrangebeingyouarent]

out of the woods

this song for coops. (characters by the amazing @lumosinlove )

i just had to write it.

Cw: swearing, injury, hospital, angst, hints at homophobia, being outed

~

Looking at it now

It all seems so simple

We were lying on your couch

I remember

“Re?” Remus blinked. “You were staring,” Sirius explained. “Are you alright?”

Yes. He blinked again. “More than alright,” he responded. As he leaned in to kiss Sirius, he realized he had never been more alright than just then.

You took a Polaroid of us

Then discovered (Then discovered)

The rest of the world was black and white

“Mon loup!” Sirius’ voice was loud and Remus spun around. A bright flash blinded him for a second. “Oh this is a good one, i know it!” Sirius’ already accented voice, became even more French when he was enthusiastic. That fucking camera.

“Baby, I told you, don't aim that thing at me before warning me. It's a disaster.” Sirius huffed.

“This camera is my child, Re, don't insult it.” Remus snorted, “whatever, love.”

A few minutes later Sirius pushed a small stroke of paper in his face. “Re, look.” The piece of paper turned out to be a polaroid picture and Remus was on it, with a smile on his face and his lions jersey on. “This is going in my room with the other pictures.”

And what more could Remus do, but smile.

But we were in screaming color

And I remember thinking

Maybe he should’ve been more careful.

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods?

Are we in the clear yet?

In the clear yet, good

Because it became harder and harder. Pretending.

Pretending he was straight.

Pretending as if he was just friends with Sirius.

Pretending that he didn’t love him.

Because, oh boy, he loved him.

Little did Remus know that he hadn’t even entered the woods yet.

Looking at it now

Last December (Last December)

New years. The night Sirius had everything. A family. A chance at the cup. A wish.

We were built to fall apart

Then fall back together (Back together)

They had overcome so much. So many challenges. And Sirius had chosen Remus each time, even if it cost him so much strength, he chose Remus.

They fell apart many times, but they always fell back together once more.

But that was before they entered the woods.

Ooh, your necklace hanging from my neck

The weight of the small necklace around Sirius' neck felt like nothing compared to the weight of the game he was about to play.

The night we couldn't quite forget

New years. The night he could never forget, even if he wanted to. Because the pictures would haunt him, for years and years.

When we decided, we decided

To move the furniture so we could dance

New years. When Sirius realised once again that he wanted to spend every second he had with Remus.

Baby, like we stood a chance

It seemed ridiculous, but it always seems in hindsight. And somewhere in him there was a part of Sirius that wanted to laugh. Because isn't this exactly what he had predicted? That they’d both get hurt.

Two paper airplanes flying, flying, flying

And I remember thinking

He had known the end before it started, and yet, he entered the woods.

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods yet?

Are we out of the woods?

Are we in the clear yet?

Are we in the clear yet?

Are we in the clear yet?

In the clear yet, good

Remember when you hit the brakes too soon?

Remus’ heart froze as he saw Sirius slam into the boards.

Twenty stitches in a hospital room

Remus’ heart froze once more when he entered the hospital room. Sirius looked, in all honesty, horrible.

“No,” he whispered as tears welled up.

When you started crying, baby, I did too

When Sirius had started crying was unclear, but some time later the unconscious man had tears streaking his face. And if that wasn't the most heartbreaking thing Remus had ever seen, he didn't know what else could be worse.

But when the sun came up, I was looking at you

Remember when we couldn't take the heat?

“I get it, Re, if you want out.”

I walked out, I said "I'm setting you free"

“Please don’t let me trap you, Remus.”

But the monsters turned out to be just trees

It was during the first break, when he saw Remus’ face on the small screen of his phone, that Sirius realised what mattered. That the people out there, who were disgusted with him, could fuck off and Sirius wouldn't care. That the only person he so desperately wanted to stay, was Remus.

The monsters were just trees.

Unfortunately trees have roots. These roots turned out to be Fenrir Greyback.

When the sun came up you were looking at me

When Sirius woke up, the second thing he saw was a white room with bright lights. A hospital, he figured.

The first thing he saw were brown eyes, filled with concern.

Are we out of the woods yet?

Cameras flashed. “Sirius, can you tell us anything about your alleged boyfriend?”

Are we out of the woods yet?

“Sirius! How long have you been with Lupin?” Another flash blinded him for a second or two.

Are we out of the woods yet?

“Have you dated any of your teammates?”

Are we out of the woods?

“Are there any other people like you on your team?” Sirius felt disgusted with the reporters.

Are we in the clear yet?

“Sirius! Do you accuse Greyback of playing dirty and causing your recent injury?”

Are we in the clear yet?

“Sirius, can you tell us-”

Are we in the clear yet?

“Sirius,” a gentle voice interrupted the sharp ones. A warm hand pressed against his back. “Wake up, love.”

In the clear yet, good

And there, in bed, just the two of them, they were safe from the shadows of the world. There they were in a field of daisies, together.

~~~

well, that was a lot. i just have to write lyric fics from time to time lmao. (and i'll be honest with you, i was a bit tired when i wrote this)

#wolfstar #coops #coops angst #coops fluff #lumosinlove #sweater weather #sweater weather lumosinlove #remus lupin #loops #cap #sirius black #james potter #leo knut #logan tremblay #finn o'hara #o'knutzy #coast to coast lumosinlove #angst #cw injury #cw swearing #el's writing

[expectingtofly]

Not-So-Easy-Bake Oven, 2k

Established Dean/Cas, Toddler Jack, Fluff without Plot

day 3 of @thiscastielhasflown and i's follower celebration

prompt: baking

“Petzel, petzel, petzel!” Jack chanted, banging a tiny plastic whisk on the table. He wore a kid's apron decorated with bumblebees, dotted black lines twisting and curving to show the bees' crisscrossing flights.

“Alright, buddy, give me a sec,” Dean said, pouring a bag of dry pretzel mix into a bowl. Charlie had bought Jack an Easy-Bake Oven for his fourth birthday, and this was their first time using it and its soft pretzel making kit—much to Jack’s excitement.

Cas came over from the sink with the kit’s measuring cup filled with water. “Wanna pour?” he asked Jack. He steadied Jack’s hand as he took the cup and poured it into the bowl. “Now it’s time to mix.”

He lifted Jack up to kneel on the table, and, gripping his whisk in one fist, Jack began stirring the mix and water together—if jabbing the bowl could be called stirring.

Dean opened the oven, checking to see if it was working. Already pretty warm for a squat bright pink appliance. “Woulda killed for something like this when I was younger.” He looked at the inside of his wrist. “Used to have a pretty nasty scar from when I tried making Sam brownies in some janky motel oven.”

“You should’ve never been left unattended in the kitchen at such a young age,” Cas griped, grabbing the bowl before it careened over the table's edge from Jack’s vigorous stirring. “You could’ve seriously hurt yourself. If I ever meet John…”

Dean grinned. “He’s lucky he never met you.”

“Exactly.”

"Done," Jack announced, dropping the whisk. Dean raised an eyebrow at the bowl where the mix was only half-combined, dry powder still clinging to the bowl.

"Looks good, kid," he told him, and picked up the flimsy pink whisk to finish stirring.

Jack protested, though, grabbing his hand. "Done!"

"It just needs a little more," Dean told him. "Look, it's not totally mixed."

"Hey, Jack," Cas said. "Help me pick out stuff to put in our pretzels." Successfully distracted, Jack clambered over to him and Cas carried him to the pantry.

Dean finished stirring the mix quickly. "Good choice," he heard Cas say and looked over to see him grabbing a bottle of soy sauce. Oh boy.

The oven chimed, announcing it was pre-heated, and Dean stared at the lumpy excuse for dough in the bowl. Maybe it’d look more appetizing when cooked.

"Chocolate chips, pepper, raisins, oregano," Cas listed, coming over and setting various items down on the table.

"Uhh." Dean stared at the box of corn flakes Jack carried over to the table, nearly as big as his torso. He couldn't figure out which items were Cas’ choice and which were Jack's suggestions. "Not really sure all this goes together."

"You never know," Cas said, picking Jack up and standing him on a chair.

He might not've known for sure, but he was pretty sure he could guess. "Alright, well." He dumped the dough onto the table and divided it into small sections. "Time to experiment, I guess."

Cas sprinkled flour on the table so they could roll out the dough, but before he could even close the bag, Jack smacked his hand down on the table, sending a cloud of flour into the air.

Cas coughed, waving flour away from his face and Jack cackled, one palm dusted white. Dean laughed at Cas, until Jack leaned over and swiped at his t-shirt.

"Dude, seriously?" Dean asked him, brushing his shirt off. Jack only laughed, clapping his hands to send more flour floating in the air. "How ‘bout you put the flour to good use?" Placing a small ball of dough in front of Jack, he propped up the box that the mix had come in and studied the instructions for forming a pretzel shape.

"So first you roll the dough out into a rope," he said, following along with the pictures. "Then you form it into a u-shape." He glanced at Jack to see if he was paying any attention, but Jack seemed more interested in rolling the dough around the table and through the flour. Then he yelped, staring at his hands in bewilderment.

"I'm messy," he said, staring at the dough sticking to his fingers. He held them up to Cas, who told him.

"You have to get your hands dirty." Taking one of the balls of dough, he poured some chocolate chips on it and began rolling them into the dough. "Look at Daddy."

Jack looked over at Dean, just as his dough rope tore in two. "Dammit." He balled the dough back together. “Let’s try that again.”

Before he could try, though, Jack started clamoring for the corn flakes, so Dean set a handful of the cereal on the table. "I think this is gonna mess up the baking times," he said, skimming the back of the box. "Recipe doesn't say anything about adding extra shit."

"This is a child's baking oven. It's supposed to foster fun and creativity." Cas nodded at the box.

Dean turned the box around. Fun for the whole family! it read along with a photo of perfectly formed pretzels. At the bottom, it also read, "Ages 8 and up." Ah. So maybe a little advanced for a four year old.

Corn flakes went flying and Dean dodged one shooting towards his eye. Oblivious, Jack continued crushing the cereal with the flat of his hand, a gleeful smile on his face.

"Yup, uh, good enough," Dean said quickly, grabbing Jack's hands.

"No!" Jack yelled, trying to get out of his grip.

"Take the oregano," Dean said quickly, hoping for a distraction. It worked, except now he had to hand over the container and watch Jack sprinkle the herb all over the near vicinity. Maybe he could pass off clean-up duty to Cas, who was making his own mess, adding food dye to his dough to make a swirl of purple and pink.

He helped Jack combine the corn flakes and oregano into the dough, then roll it out into a rope. Cupping Jack's hands, he guided him through curving the rope of dough into a U-shape, crossing the two ends twice, then pulling them over to make a rough pretzel shape.

“Hey, not too bad.” Pulling out his phone, he took a photo. "Smile for Charlie, Jack."

Jack held up the pretzel, effectively warping the shape, and grinned at the camera. "I make one for Auntie," he declared when Dean lowered the phone, and grabbed more dough to form his own pretzel.

“How did you do that?” Cas asked, studying the box. Going to him, Dean did the same thing he’d did with Jack, standing behind him and holding his hands to help him form a pretzel shape. Cas' fingers were dusted with flour, and Dean got a bit distracted by the way Cas leaned back against him, letting him guide him into creating a pretty decent pretzel. Not as perfect as the ones on the box, but close enough.

“I think I’ve got it,” Cas said, grabbing more dough and forming another pretzel in two easy swoops. Okay, way better than the one before.

“Did you just trick me into helping you?” Dean asked, pulling away from him slightly.

Cas tilted his head into him. “Mhm.”

Dean rolled his eyes but kissed his neck anyway.

Several tries and several more mishaps later, and they had a few semi-recognizable pretzels. Some they dipped into a cinnamon sugar glaze that came with the kit, others they placed as is into small, pink, round dishes.

“They go in here and cook for ten minutes,” Cas instructed, helping Jack push the dishes inside the oven. Jack peered into the opening, then back at Cas and Dean.

“Done now?”

“Gonna be a long ten minutes,” Dean said, setting the timer.

They tried to clean up as the pretzels cooked, though Jack was covered in so much flour, food dye, and dough that he left a trail wherever he moved. And he would not stop moving. As Dean tried to wipe down the table, Jack ran loops around the island, and when Cas tried sweeping, Jack decided to start spinning around in the middle of the kitchen until he fell over. Then do it all over again.

“If he has this much energy now, what the hell’s he gonna be like when you give him a chocolate chip pretzel?” Dean asked Cas, putting the oregano and soy sauce back. He had no idea which pretzel Cas had slipped the sauce into and was not eager to find out.

“That may have been an oversight on my part,” Cas admitted. The oven beeped and Jack rushed to the table.

“Petzel!” he began chanting again.

"Don't touch," Dean warned, using a tool from the kit to pull the dishes out of the oven and place them on the table.

“Which one do you want to try first?” Cas asked Jack, who took a moment to study the pretzels before pointing to the purple and pink one—or what was once those colors but had now taken on a more bloody appearance.

"It's pretty," he said.

“Yes, it is,” Cas agreed, transferring the pretzels onto a plate. Dean turned off the oven, then startled when Jack began crying.

“Hot!” Jack cried, pointing at the dish Dean had told him not to touch. In hindsight, he should’ve realized the temptation would’ve been too much to resist.

“Let me see,” Cas said, taking Jack’s hand.

“No, it hurt,” Jack cried, trying to pull his hand away.

“Alright, alright.” Scooping Jack up, Dean carried him over to the sink and turned on the cold water. When he held Jack’s hand under the stream, Jack squirmed, trying to get away.

“Cold!” he yelled.

“I’m trying to help, dude,” Dean told him. “This’ll make it feel better.” More startled than hurt, it seemed, Jack calmed down after a few seconds. Turning off the water, Dean studied his finger. Not even a blister, but he nodded at Cas. “Think Dada can help?”

Jack nodded and held out his finger to Cas. "Booboo.” Cas took his tiny hand and kissed his finger.

“Are you too injured to eat a pretzel?” he asked.

“No!” Jack yelled, suddenly all energy again, squirming out of Dean’s grasp. Dean set him down and he ran to the table, clambering on a chair to grab the purple/pink monstrosity of a pretzel.

“Try one,” Cas told Dean, joining Jack and pushing over the plate.

Dean grimaced, but chose the cinnamon sugar and corn flake one. Why that was even a combination was beyond him. Bracing himself, he took a bite. Okay. Dry. Pretty bland. Crunchy which was just wrong, but not horrible—wait. He took that back. Oregano and cinnamon sugar did not go well together.

"Um. Well.” He choked down the rest of the bite and set the pretzel back on the plate. “These are, uh..."

"Not good," Cas finished. He squinted at his own pretzel, then took another hesitant bite. Instantly, his face screwed up, and he shook his head, dropping the pretzel onto the plate. “It seems you were right. Soy sauce, pepper, and raisins do not mix."

“Who would’ve thought?” Dean deadpanned. Jack munched happily on his pretzel, cinnamon sugar covering his chubby cheeks. “Someone’s enjoying them, at least.”

“For Charlie,” Jack announced, pointing at one of the pretzels on the plate.

“She’ll love a day-old pretzel,” Dean told him.

“Yes, she will,” Cas said, giving Dean a look. He pushed Jack’s hair back from his face. “It’s the thought that counts.”

Jack abandoned the colorful pretzel for the chocolate chip one, then the corn flake one. True to his word, he left one untouched on the plate for Charlie. She would get a kick out of it when she visited. I knew he'd love it!! she'd responded to the photo Dean had sent her of Jack holding up a pretzel.

“This was fun,” Cas said, a smile on his face, watching Jack.

“Yeah.” Dean looked over at the mess of bowls and dishes in the sink and back at the flour streaked table. Making a fist over his open palm, he said, “Loser has to clean.”

Cas straightened, a competitive gleam in his eye. “Agreed.”

“Rock, paper, scissors, shoot.” Cas threw scissors and Dean threw paper.

“Dammit,” he exclaimed. “You always do rock.”

Cas grinned. “And so I conditioned you to think I’d do it now.”

“Christ, when’d you get so conniving?” He got up and asked Jack, “You wanna help your old man clean?”

“No, tank you,” Jack replied.

“‘Least he was polite,” Cas said.

“Good luck getting him down for a nap later.”

“Why’s that my job now?”

“Sorry,” Dean turned on the water to start scrubbing the bowls. “Can’t hear you over all the cleaning I’m doing.”

Cas rolled his eyes. Dean grinned when Jack offered him a bite of his pretzel and Cas had to act like he enjoyed it. Turning back to the sink, he grabbed the sponge. This was a lot of fun.

#shameless fluff #baby jack #destiel fic #spncreatorsdaily #dean/cas #fluff without plot #domestic deancas #dadstiel #inspired by trixie mattel's easy bake oven series on youtube #and a job i had a few years ago working in a pretzel truck #good times #j&kcreatorfest #expectingtofly writes

[doodleimprovement]

CSAU :: Moonie Jericho and the Mysterious Case of the Moon-Jumper Mask - Alternate Ending

Or: “The extremely self indulgent 7 page fic were Nell gets to be more helpful and has some actual characterization” 

Yeahhhh this isn’t canon to the fic, but I wanted to write it because I can, at LAST give ya’ll Nell’s backstory for how they came to live in Subcon in the CSAU

Per usual, the “Coffee Shop AU” belongs to the ever wonderful @doodledrawsthings

Also, note: Both MJ and Nell use “they/them” pronouns, with MJ being “He/They” and Nell being “She/They” To keep things from getting too confusing, Nell will be “They” and MJ will be “He” 

Enjoy! 

--

Nell was honestly a bit surprised when MJ came to their home the morning after Halloween, sheepishly stating that the mask seemed ... stuck.

“Really?”

He nodded.

“Huh.. Come on in then. I’ll get some tea going and see about helping you out, hm?”

He walked into their house, taking a moment to actually look about the place- as he didn’t get much of a chance before- and took a seat in their small living room.

The ambiance of the outside followed inside, with the walls painted chestnut brown with warm yet bright pops of color on the windowsill and the various picture frames full of people he didn’t know. The curtain over the wide window was patterned with little pumpkins, which he found cute, and hanging from a few ceiling hooks were what Clover would call “Low-maintenance” plants. The dark colors match well with the room, making it feel a bit comfier than it otherwise might.

The couch he sat on was across from an armchair, and both were colored a warm orange, with an espresso-colored coffee table. On said table were some envelopes and a copy of “Better Homes and Gardens”

Huh, he didn’t peg them as a reader of those types of magazines. Then again, Clover was the one that knew Nell, not him.

They came back with two mugs - one was purple with the “Snatcher” face on it, and the other had a little grumpy ghost on it, with “I’m spooky before my coffee” written above the drawing.

They handed him the Snatcher mug

“Can I ask where you get all of this Snatcher merch?”

“My best friend is an Etsy fiend. Despite him living all the way in Nyakoto, he ships me Snatcher merch whenever he finds something fun. He’s a real character” they chuckled.

“Huh” MJ acknowledged as Nell walked around the coffee table and sat next to him

“Do you feel the mask?”

He nodded, his hand up at the edge, right where he felt it “When I pull, it just… doesn’t move”

“Hm..” they sipped. “When you try to take it off, how does it feel?”

“Like… it’s like a thousand little… things? Pulling at my face, I think?” MJ pulled up their mug and sipped the tea.

“Like… string? Thread?”

MJ nodded. “I think that's the right word, thread”

Nell puts down the mug as MJ takes another sip. “Let me see” they scooted closer to him, and he put his mug down and turned his head.

Their hands seemed to glow green as they raised it “There we go…” They muttered, hand immediately finding the mask’s edge, and seeing what he was talking about “... Huh, the threads… well, that's the right word. They’re… criss-crossed…”

Before he could ask if they could remove them, he felt a slight burning at the edge of his face and jumped

“Ah!”

“Sorry, sorry, but, that did work… Though, it means you might be here a while” they admit “I’ll need you to stay still, okay?”

“Oh.. okay”

It was... Not Okay.

A few minutes into Nell’s attempt at getting the mask off, they let out a huff.

“You can’t keep squirming”

“I- I’m sorry” He muttered “It's just, you know, hard to stay still”

“I understand that, but I don’t want to mess this up. I’d like to see your actual eyes” They muttered.

“I know, it just.. Weird feeling” He tried to explain.

“Moon” They pressed, but sighed “... You seem still enough when I’m talking to you, need a distraction?”

“I mean, I guess…?”

Nell sighed “Hm… How about I tell you how I came to live in Subcon? That’s a long-ass story”

“Oh uh, if you’re okay with sharing!” MJ tried to be polite. He knew that even Clover wasn’t completely sure why Nell came to live in the town, she just knew that “something happened” back at the coast where they were from.

“Nah. It’s been 5 years. That’s more than long enough” The nurse stayed focused on the magic threads, their magic seeming to thrum in his ears- sounding almost like the hum of a fan in the dead heat of summer..

There was a pause, before they took in a breath.

“When I was 19, I took a job in Nyakoto, and left my hometown as fast as the train could take me. I had a scholarship to a little nursing school there, and before my 21st birthday, I’d gotten a nice, decent paying job as an ER nurse for a hospital in the East Side” They started “The hospitals were all interconnected, so I ended up meeting different doctors and nurses while I worked, and sometimes was called to assist in other hospitals.

“I was.. 25, when I met him” They recalled, something in their voice seeming heavy. “We’ll call him Chris

“He was in residency at a hospital down in the Wesservale neighborhood. We met at a medical appreciation gala… He had something about him I couldn't place. . . A charisma, almost. A kindness. He seemed so eager for the future, so excited for what the next day might bring him. I’d never been like that. His optimism drew me in.

“We started dating the year after. Like with most relationships, everything seemed great. He was funny, kind, thoughtful, all of that stuff. He even went with me to pride stuff, which was pretty cool at the time.”

“Pride?” MJ chimed in. Nell couldn’t hide a chuckle.

“Yes. You’ve heard of the Nyakoto Annual Pride Bonanza, haven’t you? One of the biggest in the country”

“I have, yes”

“Good. Back to the story” Nell redirected “When I was 27, about a year and a half into the relationship, I realized, quite unhappily, that we weren’t actually very different, and didn’t really get along as well as we thought.. It's not that we argued, but.. We didn’t really… talk. I never spoke to him about my problems, I didn’t feel like I could, and that really made me realize that we weren’t actually all that comfortable around each other. So, when he came over to my place that night for dinner, I spoke to him, and tried to tell him that we weren’t compatible, and that I thought perhaps we’d be better off as friends.

“He convinced me that we just needed work, going on and on about all these plans he had for us. Trips, dates, things to look forward to, always looking toward the future, Chris did”

Nell paused again

“.. I really should have noticed how little he cared about happiness in the present.” They commented “Not a traditional red flag, but it was a warning nonetheless”

“Well, I mean, that’s not so bad”

“In a way, no” Nell replied “But when you think about the future so much, you forget the present, you forget to live, and your past just.. Ends up a horrible haze. Even the happy stuff is hard to recall”

MJ hadn’t thought of it like that

“But hindsight is 2020, and in the moment, I believed him. I wanted to believe those bright dreams of the future, and I let go of the fact that I did not even like to talk to him very much.

“... I tried to break up with him 4 more times in the 8 years we were together.”

Okay, MJ hadn’t been expecting that much time passing.

“By the time I was 34, we were living together, but barely seeing each other. From the outside it must have seemed perfect to everyone else. I think only Daph knew about my.. Issues, with Chris. I still never talked to him about anything that wasn’t the future, or how the day was, or.. Just, absolute nonsense.

“One night, after one more attempt to break up, I’d gone to bed defeated, and woke up at 3 in the morning while he was on the night shift in Wesservale.. I came to this… realization

“If I didn’t leave right then and there, I’d marry him…. and I’d …. I’d be stuck. He’d have me, and I’d be stuck for the rest of my life..

“So I grabbed everything I had in the apartment, sent a resignation email to the East side hospital I still worked at, left him a note telling him I was leaving, took my car and just… started driving”

“.. Did he call you?”

“I blocked his number.” They answered curtly. “Drove for days until I came across Subcon.”

MJ didn’t comment.

“I stayed at the Alpine Motel for a few nights, and when I was at the diner, overheard that there was an open position for the school nurse at the elementary” They continued. “I applied for it, and 3 months later cashed in my savings to put a down payment on this little place” They made a motion with their hand briefly “The rest is history”

“Well… If it's any consolation, I think that's a good reason to get out of the city”

Nell couldn’t hold back a laugh. There was something a little… sad, in it, but the laugh was genuine.

“Yeah, then again, every reason is a good one to get out of the city” They commented, and MJ had only just realized that their hands were now on the other side of his face. Nell worked quickly, it seemed. “Hm.. okay. On the count of three, I'm going to try to take it off, alright?”

“Oh, uh, wow, okay!” He replied eagerly, closing his eyes.

“One…” They slowly started, both hands on either side, their nails right at the edge of the mask.

“Three!”

MJ startled as Nell pulled, and a cold, sharp feeling spread over his body before it abruptly ended. When he opened his eyes. He looked at Nell, who had, in their hands, that damned mask.

His hands went up to his face, and he let out a relieved laugh as he felt his skin, glasses and hair “hah! Hahah! I’m human again! No more magic!” He raised his hands and leaned back on the couch “Sweet relief”

Nell let out a chuckle, putting the mask down gently “Finish your tea, I’m gonna grab you a damp towel. You have… paint? On your face”

His brow was furrowed, but he reached for the still-warm mug anyway as Nell got up and went down a short hallway.

He took the few moments that Nell was done to think over the story he’d been told, the exhaustion in the nurse’s voice as she told it. Was he really the first one to learn? It gave him a weird feeling right in his chest.

When Nell returned, she offered a small, damp towel… that had the “Snatcher” smile on it

“... How many of these do you have?” He almost laughed again, and they just answered with an amused smile and grabbed their own coffee cup.

MJ cleaned his face, seeing a candy-red color coming off on the purple towel. “Hm..”

“What?”

“Well uh, the color looks like the magic strings I was able to summon”

Nell Blinked “... Well uh, bring that up with Tim when he’s back in town. That’s a little out of my wheelhouse”

“Noted”

The two fell into silence, sipping their warm drinks and giving them some time to unwind

“Will you need a ride home?” they asked him, putting their mug down.

He hadn’t actually thought of that.

“Oh, uh, it’s fine”

They raised an eyebrow at him

“You live 20 minutes away and Luka isn’t here to … fly you home, per se” They laid out “I’ve got a car, I’ll drive you home”

He turned a little red to the ears “Oh.. Thank you”

“No problem, Moon” They smiled back at him. “I’m going to change real quick, then we’ll leave”

And with that, they left back into the short hallway, to what Moon assumed was their bedroom.

Nell returned a few minutes later, dressed in a loose blouse and skirt that went down to their ankles, a far cry from the tank top and sweatpants that he’d seen them in before. He supposed that it was more so not wanting to go out in Pajamas than anything else. She picked up the mask, wrapping it in a handkerchief before holding it out to him

“It’s chosen you. You have to keep it”

He just nodded, and gingerly took the troublesome thing into his hands.

The two got in their truck (Nell owned a truck??) and drove into town.

MJ took in a breath as they turned onto a main street, passing The Horizon. “So uh, Nell..”

“Hm?”

“About your uh, the story you told me.. I won’t tell anyone”

“I don’t mind if you do” they answered, eyes on the road

“What, really?”

“Like I said before. Five years feels long enough”

MJ’s brow furrowed “I’m still not going to say anything.. That’s a personal story. It’s not mine to tell”

Nell glanced over at him with an unreadable expression, before moving to turn on the radio. Lo-fi started, and it seemed they were right in the middle of a Billie Eilish song.

“.. Thank you” They ended up responding as the song picked up

”I know supposedly I'm lonely now.

Know I’m supposed to be unhappy without someone.

But aren’t I someone?” 

MJ didn’t say much of anything else once until they got to his apartment building

“Thank you, Nell. For everything”

“Don’t mention it” They gave him a small, but sincere smile “Get some rest, hm? The bags under your eyes are aging you”

MJ just laughed “I will. Don’t be a stranger, Mx. Buonacci”

The nurse gave him a lazy salute with a soft smile, before the window rolled up, and they drove off

Exhaling, he looked down at the covered mask, wrapped in a…. Snatcher-patterned handkerchief.

He couldn’t help but laugh.

#ahit #ahit coffee shop au #coffee shop au #moonjumper #ahit moonjumper #ahit oc #nell #ahit nell #backstory #antonia writes #this was fun

[whump-town]

Kittens

I wrote something along these lines as an idea a while ago and I finished it now in-between breaks I’ve allowed myself between an essay I have to write. I figured it’s not my best but no one gets hurt and Hotch talks to a cat for the majority of it so it’s not that bad

The creaking of the old floorboards stops Hotch from going down the hall and checking to make sure Jack is up. He stands for a moment at the mouth of the hallway, listening to Jack curse and mumble under his breath. Most of which, he can’t hear but there are dips in Jack’s voice which allow for only certain words to float their way down to him.

“Where-- that little motherfu-- he’s going to-- shit, shit, shit--”

Hotch huffs a little laugh, a chuckle that makes no more than the whisper of a breath of noise leaving his mouth. Parenting doesn’t make much sense and Hotch is certain he’s probably supposed to say something to Jack about the cursing but to his credit, Jack hasn’t spoken like that in Hotch’s presence. Plus, it would make him a hypocrite to get too frustrated over it. He cursed at sixteen and he still does. He also smoked and got into all kinds of trouble and, as far as he knows, the most Jack gets into on a Saturday night is too many energy drinks and a new book.

As curious as Hotch is about whatever it is that Jack is fussing with, Hotch has to get breakfast ready. He turns and starts to walk to the kitchen. That’s where he’s headed when he sees something small and orange bolts ahead of him. Glancing over his shoulder, in the direction it had come from, Hotch finds nothing. Just the light peeking out from behind Jack’s door.

Hmm. Odd.

Hotch continues down the hall, looking around the floor as he goes. Trying to see what it was and where it went. Until he gets to the kitchen. “Oh,” Hotch raises an eyebrow at the kitten he finds sniffing the floor near the oven. A tiny orange kitten. He picks it up, observing it as he turns it around to inspect the tiny thing.

It looks up and him and gives a little irritated meow.

“You must be motherfucker,” Hotch says, rubbing a finger over its head. “I think Jack is looking for you.” Hotch smiles as the kitten purs, pushing its head under his finger for more. He indulges it and, he has to admit, the thing is cute. He doesn’t mind it. “Are you hungry?”

He goes to the fridge and inspects the findings… slim pickings. “Cats are lactose intolerant, right?” He looks down as the kitten squirms his arms. Rolling over it attacks his fingers but cradled to his chest it’s safe. “I don’t know anything about cats.” He’s never had any pets. Haley had an old dog named Bailey when they first got together. A border collie her father bought for her birthday years before from a farmer in town.

Growing up in the country he’d seen plenty of stray cats and dogs but he’d never had his own. There was a porch cat he used to feed bread to but his father scared it off and kicked it once. Hotch had looked so much like his father that the cat wouldn’t come to him anymore after that incident. That was probably for the best.

“Here,” Hotch finally settles. He pulls the almond milk out of the fridge, setting it on the counter. He adds the container of blueberries beside it. “I’m having oatmeal but I reckon you can probably have almond milk, right?” With a frown, he makes a mental note to ask Emily or Garcia about that. One of them is bound to know. For now, a little almond milk is probably fine. It doesn’t have milk in it but he wants to be certain.

Taking a bowl out of the cupboard, he hums and reaches over for the measuring cups. He’s been making oatmeal for years so he’s mastered the eyeballing it technique. However, the half-cup measuring cup is the perfect size for him to use as a bowl for the kitten.

“Has Jack got you any food?” he asks placing the kitten on the counter. He pours a little almond milk in the half-cup and smirks when the kitten takes to it immediately. “Well… you probably wouldn’t drink that if it wasn’t good for you, right?” Probably… well, maybe.

This feels exactly like when they brought Jack home. He and Haley had been terrified of every little thing. They were constantly calling someone about something. He can easily call Emily or Garcia but… he’s an adult, he can handle a kitten.

“Stay,” he orders stepping away from the counter to grab a pan. The kitten doesn’t move just stands contently where it is drinking the almond milk. Hotch gets the oatmeal going, keeping an eye on the kitten out of the corner of his eye. “You’re hungry,” he notes, with a tilt of his head. And when it looks up at him, almond milk all over its face, there’s no way he can deny how cute it is.

His oatmeal doesn’t take that long to make and distracted with watching the kitten it’s a nice easy pace. Bowl of oatmeal in his palm, angry kitten trying to escape from where it’s tucked between his chest and forearm, and the little cup of almond milk pinched between his fingers he sits down at the kitchen table. “What has he named you?” Hotch asks, settling it all down on the table. It occurs to him it could be a little strange to let the cat on the table but it is a cat so if it sticks around he assumes there will be lots of table sitting.

Hotch can’t remember what book Jack was reading last week-- which is chronologically his best guess at when his little friend here made its way into the house. With hindsight, he can recall Jack having been just a little more distant with him, secretive. Jack is also significant with his decisions so maybe Hotch should think more along the lines of Jack’s favorite books, not his most recent reads. Then again maybe Jack hasn’t named the cat or he chose something out of a song or a movie.

Looking up as he hears Jack’s door creak open, he scowls back down at his lap. The kitten having stretched up at his chest and bats at one of the buttons on his shirt. He taps its little paw warningly, just enough to jar it a little, and judging from the look he receives this little warning tapis nothing something it was expecting.

“Hey, dad.”

Hotch looks up and hums back, nothing unusual because he certainly isn’t going to give up the advantage he has right now. His son is a snarky little shit -- purely Emily’s doing -- and Hotch rarely gets moments where he comes out ahead of whatever jokes Jack (or Emily) can make at his expense.

Jack comes around and nods his head, timidly going about making himself some cereal. Hotch doesn’t comment on his son’s socks -- one is teal with bright, highlighters yellow bananas and the other is beige with pink polka dots. Hotch had given up on Jack and socks. Jack gets a little thrill out of this rebellion and Hotch should just be happy that it’s not worse.

The two of them really have nothing in common. Jack loves science and math (Hotch has to use a calculator for simple multiplication). Hotch prefers for each of his books to look like they have never even been read (Jack has so many sticky notes in his copy that Fahrenheit 451 that it looks silly). Jack refuses to carry around a planner and writes everything down on the back of his hand (Hotch has multiple planners and color codes things in delicate details).

“Oh.” Jack turns with his cereal in his hands and sees the kitten in his father’s lap. That bright orange over his black dress pants. Jack knew his father wouldn’t be mad -- he can count on one hand the number of times he has seen Hotch angry. Though, he knows what he’s done wasn’t the right course to take. He’s not so sure what to do now, he hadn’t planned this far ahead.

Hotch hums again, nodding his head.

Jack looks down at the floor and timidly takes his seat across from his father at the table. Tucking his legs underneath himself to avoid hitting Hotch’s much longer stretched-out legs. Normally, he wouldn’t think twice about hitting his dad’s legs but today he’s sensing he should probably consider his actions a little more. “Am in trouble?”

Hotch raises an eyebrow and looks away from the kitten to his Jack. He’s looking down at his cereal, playing with it so he can avoid looking at Hotch. Jack’s never really been in trouble. Hotch is a little too lenient at times but even Jessica is pretty bad for that. Even so, Jack has turned out pretty okay, he’s still a kid (16 isn’t that grown, despite that being the age Hotch’s father kicked him out at -- well sent him to boarding school but that was only after he spent a month couch surfing and sleeping in a shitty tent he stole).

“No.” It’s a cat and he’s not mad and Hotch doesn’t see just yet where he could make this a learning opportunity so… he’s not going to make it a big deal. It’s hard, in situations like these, to know where normal discipline comes into play. His own father would have beat him senseless or locked him out of the house for a week, maybe longer.

“Oh.”

Hotch frowns, “do you think you should be?” He doesn’t mean it to bait Jack, he means it honestly. There isn’t a right answer.

Jack shrugs, “I mean, I don’t know.” Jack is aware that his father isn’t like most dads but they’re in a unique situation, the two of them. “You should probably lecture me about something, right? I mean, I don’t think I’ll be sneaking in any more cats but that’s not as a result of any lecture. I certainly wouldn’t do it with a dog.”

So maybe not a lesson learned but still sounds like there’s no point acknowledged. “Okay,” Hotch reasons. It sounds fair. “Well, next time we talk this sort of thing over, okay? I respect you and your decisions and so I ask for your opinions on things, right? I need you to respect my opinions.”

Jack nods.

“So, any names?”

#criminal minds #criminal minds fanfiction #aaron hotchner #jack hotchner

[kessielrg]

[Kingdom Hearts] Commission Please!

Summary: In which concentrated bits of chaos meet a shy artist. Dedicated to @chibi-mushroom, my Namine-sensei and to whom I’m converting in to a bunny child appreciator. xD

Rating: K

Word Count: 2,210 words

If you liked this story, please reblog!

---

There was always something interesting happening in Disney Town. The colors, the sounds, the smells- it was nearly overwhelming as Namine breathed it all in. The atmosphere of the place always seemed to knock Namine slightly off guard every time she set foot in it. Disney Town was a very alive world, and all the experiences with it flowed through effortlessly. She was always so amazed that every day was different than the last- definitely a stark contrast to how she started out in the world. Today, Disney Town offered something new, something no one had seen before and was quite hard to ignore.

“Where on earth did all these bunny kids come from?!” Lea demanded once they entered town square. They were very hard to ignore. Every foot or so, there was at least one of the small, blue bunnies getting into some sort of trouble.

“Not sure,” Kairi said, just as a bunny kid hopped onto her head, bent down to look her in the eye, happily wave, then bound off of her head. She couldn’t hide her little giggle as she went on to add, “But they sure are cute.”

“Ri-ight.” Lea snorted. He looked down to see a bunny child at his feet. It stuck its tongue out at him before laughing rather maniacally. “They look about as cute as a wart on someone’s toe. Just as persistent too.”

“Lea!” Kairi admonished, gently smacking him with the back of her hand. The taller redhead did nothing to defend himself. Instead he gave them a charming little grin that feigned innocence.

Namine let out a little chuckle as well. Lea turned to her with the most hurt expression one could offer.

“Not you too, Namine!” he whined. “I thought we had amnesty once we became Somebodies. We’re good now!”

“Not when you’re still being cruel to innocent children.” Namine teased.

“I didn’t even touch them!”

Namine and Kairi looked at each other before dissolving into a round of giggles. Lea deflated, knowing that he was never going to win this argument. Their moment of fun was broken when a loud drum march started to play. The three looked up to find the source of the noise. Sure enough, there was a small group of bunny children with drums and leading a small parade filled with nothing but other blue bunny children. One of the bunnies in front was holding a banner reading ‘Lunch Time 4 Us!’ and waving it quite happily.

 In high, squeaky voices, the leading bunny children started to chant; 

“Who’s the leader of the club that’s made for you and me!”

On cue, another round of tiny voices shouted as they joined the parade, “La-de-da la-de-da la-de-da-da-da!”

“Hey there, hi there, ho there! You’re as welcome as can be!”

“La-de-da la-de-da la-de-da-da-da!”

The chant continued as the parade marched their way through the square and into a cafe. 

“Well…” Kairi was the first to muse, “Guess we’re not going to eat in there.”

“Must be lunchtime.” Namine noted with a grin.

“Must be something.” Lea decided as he scratched the back of his head. All the while, the bunny children continued with their march.

“Uncle Mick!”

“Papa too!”

“Uncle Mick!”

“Papa too!”

“Forever let us hold our ice creams high!”

“High, high, high!”

“Come along and sing a song, and join the jamboree!”

“La-de-da la-de-da la-de-da-da-da!”

The bunny children holding up the rear, who hadn’t entered the cafe yet, let out a cheer before slamming the cafe door behind them. The square was suddenly rather quiet without them all making a ruckus.

“I, for one, am glad they’re gone for now.” Lea told the girls. “That is not a song I want to have memorized.”

Kairi gave Namine a wicked glance before turning back to Lea. She didn’t give any warning before she opened her mouth to sing, “Who’s the leader of the club that’s made for you and me?”

Lea suddenly went pale. “Kairi, no!”

“Hey there, hi there, ho there!”

“Kairi! I’m warning you!”

“You’re as welcome as can be!”

“This is your last chance!”

“Come along and sing a song, and join the jamboree!”

“That’s it, get over here so I can teach you a lesson!” Lea hollered as he barrelled at Kairi. Kairi herself let out a little yelp before bolting away. She then let out a joyful laughter as Lea chased her around the square, and out to a different area. Namine considered following them, but decided it was best they get their energy out. There certainly wasn’t any shortage of it in this world.

Instead, Namine made herself comfortable at a nearby bench and simply relaxed. After being accustomed to the energy of the world again, she carefully pulled out her drawing pad, some colored pencils, and did one of the most relaxing hobbies she had yet to replace; drawing.

She started with the square itself. The bench she was on was facing a nice gazebo, which in turn was framed rather well by the entrance to Disney Castle behind it. She wondered for a moment if she had enough colors in her palette to capture the atmosphere just right. If not, maybe it was time to experiment with cross hatching. As she got into her familiar, comfortable groove, Namine started to hum a few bars of the bunny kid’s march. It was a pretty catchy tune. She’d have to ask Riku if he was familiar with it- he came around Disney Town often enough to visit the King, he must have heard it at least once.

Quite some time passed as she drew. Namine didn’t even notice when some of the bunny children started to file out of the cafe. A little pack of four started to play in the gazebo. It looked like a rather fun game of hide and seek. Namine didn’t realize that she had started to draw the bunny children playing until she had finished shading the first blue bunny. She blinked at her page with mild bewilderment. She had heard stories about ‘automatic writers’ and how they would write whole letters by hand while supposedly controlled by some outside force. She didn’t personally believe them until she saw the blue bunnies in her drawing. It was like she didn’t even recognize her own ability.

“Hey fellas!” a high pitched voice said from beside her, succeeding in scaring Namine nearly out of her wits. She quickly looked to her left and saw one of the bunny kids standing next to her. Namine flinched when it whistled to get the other two’s attention.

Its siblings (she assumed they were all siblings, at least) immediately stopped what they were doing. They took a glance at Namine, then at the bunny beside her, then started to bounce on over. They stopped at her feet. Namine was so bewildered at the past minute’s events that she had to take another moment to register what was going on.

“Oh! Hello there.” she finally greeted. “Would you like to see what I drew?”

All four bunny children nodded their heads- the one that had surprised Namine had gone down with the rest of its siblings. There was power in numbers, and she had a feeling those blue bunnies were well aware of it. Despite herself, Namine carefully turned her drawing around for them to see. Her work was immediately accepted with a round of ‘oh’s and ‘aww’s. It made her heart flutter with pride. She felt rather selfish when the four bunnies decided to just up and leave without another word. Namine sighed, hoping that they’d come back, before going back to finish up a few bits on the drawing.

Her wish was granted quite a few minutes after. Just as she was finishing up her drawing, the four bunny children from earlier were coming back to her. At least, she assumed they were the same as before- it was hard to tell when those blue bunnies all looked the same. Regardless, Namine greeted them all with a bright smile.

“Hello again,” she said, “How can I help you?”

The bunny children all stared at the one bunny standing in the back. It was bashfully hiding something as it stepped forward. The other bunnies let out a pleased ‘ta-da!’ while the bashful bunny presented Namine with a flower. It wasn’t anything too special, probably plucked from the caste gardens based on its hue.

“O-oh, thank you.” Namine stammered. “But I don’t need-”

She stopped dead in her tracks- the pitiful, pleading faces of the bunnies made it increasingly hard to say no. After a moment of mental wrestling, Namine offered a smile.

“It’s very lovely.” she said  as she carefully took the flower. “Thank you. I’ll use it as a commission.”

The bunny children suddenly perked up. A new word had been spoken to them- one that they could already tell held the promise for more lovely drawings. They looked back up at her expectantly. Namine didn’t think herself that good at charades, but she could almost gather what they wanted to ask her.

“A commission is when you give something to someone in return for their goods. In this case, the flower is your commission for me drawing your picture earlier. Do you understand now?”

The bunny children looked at each other for a moment. They seemed to have a moment of revelation before turning back to Namine with a wide grin. In unison, the bunnies happily nodded.

“That’s good.” Namine smiled, giving them a happy nod of her own back to them.

Giving a grin that seemed rather mischievous in hindsight, the blue bunny children bounded off in different directions to do whatever it was they planned on next. Namine wasn’t aware that she was going to be a part of this plan. Not yet. For now, she decided to put her drawing things away to go find Lea and Kairi. She hadn’t seen them since they ran out a good hour ago. Not that she expected anything bad to happen to them, but still. You never knew in their world.

Thankfully, both Kairi and Lea were safe when Namine found them. Apparently they had raced each other to the go-kart track, which then proceeded to be an even more heated race between them. Namine had caught them at the end of their sixth round.

“Who won?” Namine curiously asked.

“I did!” Kairi boasted at the same time Lea mumbled, “She did.”

Namine afforded a small laughter. With the three of them together again, they decided that it was likely time to get something to eat. On their way back to the square, a large hoard to bunny children came bounding to the trio. They bunnies were so packed together that it was just a sea of rippling blue. Not sure of what to do, or where the bunnies were even heading, Lea, Namine, and Kairi simply stopped in their tracks.

“I don’t like how they’re in a stampede.” Lea murmured to the girls. “Who do you think they’re going to terrorize? That’s a terrorizing formation if I’ve ever seen it.”

The girls just shrugged, but they got their answer soon enough. The hoard stopped right at Namine’s feet. A fact that didn’t surprise her nearly as much until a few started to stack on top of each other. They continued to stack until the bunny child on top was at about Namine’s eye level.

“Hi!” the top bunny child happily said, giving a wave so energetic that it made the tower wobble a bit. The bunny didn’t give anyone time to react before pulling out a picture of their own. It was rather crudely done, but it was still easy to depict a black cat with a pink shirt and matching little hat. Putting on a wide grin, the bunny child told Namine, “This is our mama.”

“We want to surprise her!” one of the bunny kids in the stack said.

“Please draw us for Mama.” another bunny said.

“Draw us for Mama! Draw us for Mama!” the rest of the hoard chanted.

For the longest time, Namine was speechless. When she did try to say something, it only came out in a strangled, “I…” as she looked to Kairi and Lea. They seemed just as overwhelmed as she was.

The bunny children must have been expecting this because a few others formed a second stack. This time, the bunny on top was holding a rather large sack that, when shook, sounded like munny twinkling inside.

“We’ll commission you.” the bunny at the top of the second stack grinned.

“It’s all our allowance!” the hoard cheered at once. “63,000 munny!”

Lea let out a low whistle. “That’s a LOT of Mega-Potions…”

Indeed it was, and it only caused more conflict inside Namine. Why was it so hard to say no to troublemakers when they were being so earnest? Maybe it’s because the bunny children were still just that- children. They weren’t perfect, but when they put their heart into something, it was all they desired. It was admirable. It was hard to say no to.

“Sure.” Namine then decided, knowing that she wouldn’t be able to take it back later. “Why not?”

The bunny children cheered.

#kingdom hearts #epic mickey #kingdom hearts fanfiction #kh namine #bunny children #namine #kh kairi #kairi #lea #kh lea #kh fanfiction #fanfiction #kh fan fic #fanfic #fan fiction #fan fic #writers on tumblr #bunny kids

[lovemesomehwa]

Come To Brazil

Shoyo Hinata

After hearing that the Greatest Decoy had trained in her home country, Y/N just had to find out what his experience was.

Based on: Come To Brazil - Why Don't We

Warnings- cursing, implied nsfw, she/her pronouns

a/n: This took way too long to finish, but I'm back ! This is the first fic I'm basing off a song so I'd highly recommend giving it a listen as you read <3

They were gorgeous, beautiful even. The red sequins sparkled in the light every time they moved. I didn’t notice how revealing it was until they sat down, the low cut complementing their build. I could tell they were nervous, but I couldn’t tell what for. I wasn’t one to talk though, my senses were on fire, leaving me a bit overwhelmed.

I don’t usually tag along on these things, especially not when Atsumu has anything to do with it. But tonight was an exception since it was his birthday. I told myself I was ready but in all honesty, I don’t think anything could have prepared me for this. The music was so loud I swear I felt the house shake. It was packed wall to wall with people, most I didn’t even know he knew. I didn’t even know them and we’ve been teammates for years.

Somehow I made it into one of the less crowded rooms, one of the waiting staff handing me a glass of liquor as soon as I came through the doorway. This one held a different vibe than the others, the music not as loud and you could actually see the floor. It looked like a lounge, the dark velvet couches pushed against the wall making it seem larger than it was. Curtains and solid tapestries covered every inch of wall available. I looked around, trying to find somewhere to sit that wasn’t already taken. Luckily there was a corner piece available that gave me a good view of the room. I took a deep breath and took a sip from my glass, starting to get anxious. I wasn’t one for crowds but one night couldn’t hurt right?

(Y/N) pov.

“Wait really?”

“Yea, he trained there for two years before joining the team. Pretty sure ya would like him, he’s yer type too…” I looked up at Atsumu, eager to learn more about his teammate. “Pretty sure he’s here if ya want to talk to ‘em.” He turned around, his attention shifting onto the next person. I scrunched my nose and walked off, wanting to find this ‘decoy’ ‘Tsumu was talking about. Something about Brazil had piqued my interest in him.

I pushed through the crowd, stumbling a bit from being pushed around. It took four rooms and one awkward intrusion before I finally found him in the lounge. It was definitely less crowded but there was still a good number of people. He seemed unbothered, taking a sip from his glass as he put away his phone and looked up. I made my way over, narrowly avoiding an elbow or two.

“Hinata right?” I spoke up, looking down at him. He smiled brightly and nodded, his mood seeming to change. This wasn’t my first time seeing him, he’s been on countless magazine covers and all over Atsumu’s page; but It was my first time up close. I finally understood why everyone compared him to sunshine. He truly was a ball of light, what with those wide eyes and bright smile, I felt like my heart skipped a beat just from looking at him. I couldn’t help but notice how nicely he cleaned up. His hair was gelled and swooped back, accentuating a fresh looking undercut. The white button up certainly made him stand out against the room's darker colors. I sat down next to him, adjusting my own clothes out of habit.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” I flashed a smile, shaking my head.

“Afraid not, I’m one of Atsumu’s friends.” I laughed nervously, tucking a stray piece of hair behind my ear. “He was telling me about how you trained for a while in Brazil and since that's where I’m from I wanted to ask you a few questions-if that’s alright with you…”

“No no no, of course it’s okay! I’m actually quite interested in your experience now!” He shifted to face me, accidentally bumping our knees.

Hinata pov.

They were gorgeous, beautiful even. The red sequins sparkled in the light everytime they moved. I didn’t notice how revealing it was until they sat down, the low cut complementing their build. I could tell they were nervous, but I couldn’t tell what for. I wasn’t one to talk though, my senses were on fire, leaving me a bit overwhelmed.

made me more anxious than I already was. I took another sip from my glass, hoping it’ll give me some liquid courage. I felt my throat burn with the aftertaste, making me scrunch my nose.

“So, you first, what do you wanna know?” I looked over at them, locking our gaze.

“Well, what made you choose Brazil in the first place?” I grinned, happy to answer.

“It honestly wasn’t my first choice, initially I had wanted to go to California so I could learn to play on the sand. But I got an offer from a trainer who said he was based in Rio. Next thing I know I’m boarding a plane with nothing but a backpack and my passport!” I explained, chuckling at the memory.

“Woah, that’s so cool! You must’ve had so many offers from professionals who wanted to train right?” Their eyes shone with curiosity. I don’t think they did it on purpose but they got a bit closer, leaning in like it was an interrogation. I rubbed the back of my neck, gulping nervously.

“Well-not really, I didn’t have too many but I was grateful for the ones I did receive. I think one of my favorite things about my training there was how much time I was able to spend outside. The sun there is just so much more intense, it's honestly insane. I did get heat stroke during the first few days though. That was not fun.” I glanced to the side, trying to calm my sudden spike in nerves.

“I’m sure, did you get any sunburns?” They tilted her head, smiling. I nodded, humming and swirling my glass to make a whirlpool effect.

“Oh yeah, definitely.” She didn’t respond after that, instead she looked away. I couldn’t help but stare, admiring the stray hairs that refused to be pinned down. The way the gloss made her lips shine. I had to tear away my gaze before she caught me, but I couldn’t bring myself to. It felt like I was trapped, almost in a trance. It felt like a while had passed before she finally spoke up, turning back to me.

“Do you wanna dance or are you just gonna stare...?” I could feel my face warm up from being caught.

“I- sure…” She smiled, standing up and holding out a hand. I took it and pulled myself up, letting her guide me to the dance floor. I downed the rest of my drink while she led, hoping it would take the edge off. I blinked a few times, not expecting it to be that strong. I set the glass on a staff tray as we passed, not needing it anymore.

She ended up taking me through a couple different rooms before she found one she was satisfied with, if I didn’t know any better I would assume the house was just one giant maze. I couldn’t see much from where we were in the crowd but it was definitely hotter. The lights would alternate between blue, green, and red; similar to the lighting you would find at a rave. The room itself was hot, the temperature definitely warmer than the one we talked in.

We were awkward at first, trying to loosen up was harder than it looked. Whether or not it was the alcohol kicking in or not, I felt bolder, finally able to let go.

(Y/N) pov.

As we danced it felt like the rest of the world melted away, leaving just the two of us. The music was loud, but not as loud as my heart beat thumping in my ear. It only seemed to get faster as time went on, the bass on the speakers making the floor shake. The ghost of his touch left me with goosebumps and a feeling I couldn’t quite shake. I closed my eyes and put my hands up, letting my body move on it's own. In hindsight, that might not have been the best idea, but we were both comfortable enough at this point. When I opened my eyes we were noticeably closer, hardly any space between us as we moved in sync. I smiled at him, his eyes shining back in what little light reached us.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was music, or maybe it was how I wanted to know what he felt like against me. I dunno how it happened, but there we were, skin to skin in the middle of the dance floor with his lips on mine.

I looped my arms around his neck, pulling him closer as I felt his hands drift lower on my waist. Our lips moved in sync as our bodies swayed, keeping with the tempo of the music that's just now starting to fade back in. Everything suddenly came to focus once I felt a cold slick down my back. I pulled away instantly, suddenly sober. I turned around, coming face to face with Atsumu while a disheveled Hinata stood behind me.

"You asshat, what was that for?!" The asshat in question laughed, swirling a clear glass filled with ice and what I had assumed was alcohol.

"Ya two were maken' a scene, if yer gonna kiss, do it in a bathroom or at least not in the middle of my floor!" Atsumu disclosed, smiling smugly and strutting off into the crowd. I turned back to the small ginger and smiled upon seeing his eyes quickly look up from where they were.

"You up for round two?" I ventured carefully. He grinned and grabbed my hand, nimbly leading me as we bobbed and weaved our way back through the dance floor, headed toward what I could only guess was one of the bathrooms.

I stared at myself in the mirror, smoothing out my clothes as if I wasn't just on my knees. Hinata watched as I fixed myself, slightly dizzy. I grinned, eyeing him as he sat, legs still spread from where I had been not five minutes ago. I hesitated before asking him a question as he fixed his hair.

"You got a pen?" He looked at me quizzically before reaching into his coat pocket and pulling out a green ink joy pen. "Hand please~" I took his wrist and turned it over, writing my number on it in thick green ink. He took it back and read the numbers, mumbling them under his breath.

"What's this for…?" He asked, tilting his head. I couldn't help but giggle at his stupidity.

"It's my number idiot, call me if you're ever back in Brazil. That way we can do this again sometime…" I ruffled his hair before unlocking the door and stepping through. "Maybe then you'll get a real welcome~"

#haikyuu!! #hinata x reader #hinata shoyo #haikyuu x reader #oneshot #haikyuu hinata #hinata imagine

[batbobsession]

“What does it mean to be a father?”

Maurice will never know how he got to be in such a position as this, and he certainly wishes for a handkerchief—or something to wipe his paint-stained hands with—to be nearby.  He’s sitting next to the most powerful man in the land, after all, though at the moment, his looks did not match his title.

The regent—or is he the king? Maurice wonders—is dressed in a simple coat and trousers, both of which are an earthy brown. The absence of the wig reveals natural greying hair, and without any bracelets or jewels he looks quite…normal. Nothing at all like the paintings in the West Wing.

Even more of an interest, he muses, is the look in the man’s eyes.  They are a hard, rather miserable gray, a shade Maurice would only use when painting a thunderstorm or a cloudy night.  But his expression does not match such a sad color.  The man’s hands are folded politely in his lap, and on his face, there is a genuine look of interest.

He somehow looks skeptical even without the skepticism, Maurice thinks, and tries to compose himself before speaking.

“Forgive me, Sire, I believe I misheard you.”

“Please don’t,” the man replied, and for a second Maurice’s thoughts flew to the etiquette lists Cogsworth had so graciously made for him, wondering if he had said the wrong thing.

“I have been neglecting my duties for years now,” he continued.  “I am no more a royal than you are.”

Oh. Maurice opens his mouth, compelled to reassure him that it isn’t his fault, that magic is a fickle thing, but something stops him.  There’s a flicker in that gaze, hinting that he meant more than what was said.

The old artist did not know much about Adam’s father, only that he was absent the night the curse was cast, meaning he had forgotten about the inhabitants of the castle just like everyone in Villeneuve.  Maurice had arrived with Monsieur D’Arque, just as the sun rose above the highest turrets and towers.  In his search to locate his daughter, he had noticed this same man, haggard yet joyful in the presence of his son.  He had no idea he was staring at the true master of the castle until Lumiére—the candlestick, he still couldn’t believe that—had addressed him as such.

“Well, I…I wish I had an answer that would suffice, Monsieur,” Maurice finally says. “To tell the truth, I’m not much of an expert on the matter.”

“And yet your daughter is one of the most remarkable women I have ever had the pleasure of meeting,” the king replies. “Most of the princesses I would have picked for my son would only have their titles going for them.  Shallow, easily influenced, lured here under the prospect of an alliance.  Your daughter is—”

“Perfect.” The word is out of Maurice’s mouth before he can think of what to say.  He stares hard at his hands.  One has a rather large smudge of yellow on it.

“Certainly,” the king admits.  “I’ve not found fault with her yet, and I usually have a knack for that sort of thing.  Strange how things dissipate over time.”

Maurice blinked, again struggling to speak properly, but now there was something like a cloud over them, and he wondered if the other man knew about the curse at all.

“Your—Monsieur,” Maurice begins again, “I—”

“Maurice, isn’t it?” he interrupts.

“Oui, Monsieur.”

“I am asking this genuinely, as someone who has no experience in the matter.”  He is silent for a moment, and stares out the window.  “It’s been such a long time since I’ve seen my son, and I’m sure his memories of me are…few and far between.”

Maurice notices it then. There is something keeping this man back. The way he speaks of the prince is not as a son, but as an unapproachable. Something that he is hesitant to think of.  

Is this man really Adam’s father?

“You believe that you cannot father the prince because of your absence? Is there something you’re afraid of?”

Sacre…the yellow smear now seems alarmingly bright. Since when did such a color exist?

He had thought that his initial fear of speaking to a royal was enough to stay his tongue, but…

It’s almost as if he has not spoken at all. The king retreats into himself, eyes glazing over, head inclined, on the verge of remembering, but not quite there.

“I don’t know.  I’ve forgotten how.  But I’d like to try again.”

Maurice blinks, and the cloud dissipates.  This is something that the curse had very little to do with.  Something that could have very easily been Adam’s childhood, or lack thereof.  He had never let the lives of the noblemen grace his thoughts, but now he imagines that because of their upbringings and various duties to attend to, they never had time to enjoy.  

The man sitting across from him probably has no idea what rain smells like.

Maurice folds his hands and smiles.  

“The reason I happened upon this castle was because I was attacked by wolves, and I was seeking shelter from an oncoming storm. I let myself in, as the lamps were lit, but no one was inside.”

Maurice pauses, but there was no sign of anger from the other man, so he kept going.

“After I left, I noticed that the garden—your garden, I suppose—was filled to the brim with roses.  They were white, absolutely pristine despite the snow. Though I was in quite a state of distress when I left, I remembered the last thing my daughter asked of me was that I bring her back a rose.”  Maurice chuckles.  “In hindsight, that action could have cost me my life, but I still would have done it, thinking back on it now.”

“Pardon me,” the other man interrupts, “it could have cost you your life?”

“Ah—” Maurice halts, staring. He quickly shifts his attention to a paintbrush he left by the window. Perhaps this man does not know the entirety of it. Surely, he could explain, but this man is still a stranger. And Adam’s father. It’s not his place to tell. “In a way, yes. But there’s no need for concern. If there had been a threat before, it has long passed.”

In the window, Maurice can see the young boy, Christopher, and his mother, playing outside.  Maurice cannot see them smiling, but he can tell just by looking.

I suppose I have a knack for those kinds of things.

“I’m a lucky man,” he admits.  “I was able to use my passion to create a living for us. But I would burn every canvas if it led to her happiness.  I would give up anything and everything for the sake of my little girl.”

The king is quiet, and for a moment Maurice thinks he got through to him.  Then he said “And your wife? Where is she in this wonderful family?”

It is Maurice’s turn to be quiet.  He closes his eyes and her face swims before his, smiling and proud, tears in her eyes. He is able to smile back, and he thanks God for it.

“Her mother died of plague a few months after she was born.”

There is nothing from the king.  In the silence, Maurice turns his hands over in his lap, wondering if he should say more.  Instead, he glances up, and the king’s expression is one of a man trapped. He stares at Maurice with such sympathetic agony that Maurice wonders how long he should hold his gaze.

He’s caught in something, Maurice thinks, but does not look away.

In this moment, the answer forms.

“Sir, if I may,” he begins, “I think the answer you are searching for is just to be there.”

The other man snaps out of his reverie.  “I beg your pardon?”

“Be there.  Smile when Adam notices you watching him.  Answer any question he asks as honestly and as truthfully as you can. Support him in everything he does, even if you don’t like it.”

“But that seems too simple.”

“It’s the hardest thing in the world,” Maurice replies.  He goes to gesture to his studio—before cringing inwardly at how haphazard and disorganized it is.  “When I was a young man, I lived in Montmarte, in an old repurposed windmill that my wife was able to earn. When Belle was born, I—I wanted everything to be flawless. I felt like she would never experience any of life’s troubles, not as long as I was around. I never wanted her to stop smiling. Of course, life will never work out the way you want it to.”

The king nods. “I’ve no right to call my life treacherous. But wandering these halls again, it’s so different. Familiar.” He raises an eyebrow as his gaze travels upwards towards the chandelier. “But lost.”

“To be lost is to be blind to everything around you,” Maurice replies.  “In a way, I was cursed to be perceptive in everything I did. I saw everything in painstaking detail. So much so that the only way to be rid of it was to paint it.

“But in recent years,” he continues, “I’ve begun to forget small things. How many gears fit into a music box.  How many folds to draw in a frilly dress. And almost as if to correct my memory, my daughter will round the corner with the correct gear in her hand or twirl for me until I remember.”

The man tilts his head, but Maurice can tell that he’s getting it.

Good, he thinks inwardly, I fear I’ve started to ramble.

“Though our relationship needed no improvements before, I’m grateful for my weakening senses,” he finishes, “because now I am constantly reminded of how much she means to me.”

“You’ve made no mistakes, sir, it seems,” is the response. Maurice laughs.

“Oh, don’t say that; I’ve made plenty of mistakes. There was a time, after her mother died, when I refused to acknowledge it.” This sparks something in the king’s dark eyes, and Maurice pushes on, refusing to let him think of it. “It wasn’t until Belle decided to find her mother on her own that I knew I couldn’t hide from it any longer. And there have been moments like that as long as I’ve lived.”

“Sometimes those moments seem to last forever.”

Maurice grins then, at what the king probably thought was a morbid statement. But that is what makes life beautiful.

“You, sir, are not blind, so you are not lost,” he decides. “In fact, the very action of asking me for advice shows that you see your son, and you see the bond that you want with him. But pay no attention to my story; I’m a humble painter with no knowledge of the world inside these exquisite walls.”

He gestures to a painting in the far corner of his studio. His daughter stands there, mid-twirl, the sun on her smiling face and a few rose petals drifting in her wake. Her joy is his now, and he will experience it every time he looks at her.

“Maurice, I possess none of the detail-oriented capabilities of an artist like yourself—”

“No,” Maurice interrupts, and this time he’s not afraid. “It’s just smudges on a canvas. I don’t see every detail anymore. But I see the emotion, and that’s far more important than any scrutinizing on my part.”

Maurice leans forward, smiling. “Be there. And if you truly want it, the rest will come.”

The man nods then, and Maurice can see that his words have somewhat fallen through the other’s sadness. “Imagine finding such a profound man in a village somewhere. I’m very lucky, aren’t I.”

“I’m an old fool,” Maurice assures him. “The villagers used to call me crazy.”

“I imagine they stopped when you moved in,” the king murmured.

“No,” Maurice shakes his head, “they stopped when your son greeted them.”

The man’s lips part in surprise, and for a split-second Maurice can see a smile on his face. “I suppose that’s very like him.”

Then the moment melts away, the two rise, and he offers his hand. Maurice freezes. He’s not wearing gloves. The handkerchief is once again at the forefront of his mind. But he’s also not one to leave a hand unshaken, so he takes it.

“Merci. I would like to visit with you again, if my presence was not a bother to you.”

“O-of course,” Maurice responds. “But please, a word of warning. My study…is not a sight for sore eyes at the moment.”

“A pleasure to meet you, sir,” is his reply, and he’s gone. Maurice can hear a second set of footsteps tailing him, and he wonders if the attendant heard the conversation or not.

But instead, he sits back down and stares out the window. Chapeau and Lumiére have joined the Potts in the courtyard now. The roses are in full bloom. It’s a lovely picture. He’ll have to remember it for when he buys a bigger canvas.

He raises his paintbrush. The smear of yellow is gone. He can feel tears coming.

“Be there,” he murmurs, and adds a stroke of carnation pink. “And the rest will come.”

He glances at one of the roses outside. Have I done enough, mon ange?

-

Tagging those I think might enjoy this: @lumiereswig @tinydooms @naturepointstheway @im-too-obssesed @morgaine2005 @forr-everrmorre @greensearcher @firstherofirstlove @ginnyweatherby @sweetfayetanner 

#batb2017 #batbfics #maurice #adam's father #this was supposed to be my father's day fic #SORRY FOR THE LATENESS #I hope I haven't lost it #I wrote a fic YEARS ago #about Adam's father being alive and regretting his actions #This is a sequel #enjoy best dad and worst dad having a conversation

[the-shy-and-anxious-fangirl]

Flufftober Day 7- Meddling Friends

“We have to do something,” Ochako declared abruptly during lunch one day. A little ways down their lunch table, Deku and Todoroki were chatting with each other over their meals, so intensely focused on one another that it was as if the whole world was just them two. Ochako didn’t miss the blush coloring Deku’s cheeks or the way that Todoroki was looking at him, even if it seemed that he did.

“Do something about what?” Tenya asked beside her, bringing her focus back to the matter at hand. 

“That,” she replied, pointing to Deku and Todoroki. Tenya glanced in that direction and frowned.

“I don’t understand,” he said. “Todoroki and Midoriya are just talking. What’s the problem?” Ochako sighed.

“Look closer, Tenya,” she said, grabbing his face and turning his head back toward Todoroki and Deku, keeping her hands in place so that he couldn’t look away, her pinkies sticking out so that she wouldn’t accidently float him up to the ceiling.

“Look at the way Todoroki is looking at Deku,” she whispered in his ear. He made a low hum of acknowledgement. After a moment, he murmured, “Oh. I see.”

“I was aware of Midoriya’s feelings for Todoroki-” he began.

“Yeah, because Deku is the least subtle person ever when it comes to his feelings,” Ochako interjected

“-but I didn’t realize that those feelings were mutual,” Tenya went on as if she hadn’t spoken, fixing her with an affectionately exasperated glare.

“Right,” she agreed. “And they’re both oblivious idiots, so without outside intervention, they’ll never realize that their feelings for each other are mutual. We have to do something.”

“I don’t know, Ochako,” Tenya said with a frown. “I don’t know that it’s our place to interfere.”

“Please Tenya,” Ochako begged. “I literally cannot take any more of watching them dance around each other. Besides, Deku helped us get together. Don’t you think we ought to return the favor?” Tenya sighed and shifted in his seat, and Ochako knew his tells well enough by now to know that she had him.

“Alright,” he said at last. “What did you have in mind?”

In hindsight, Izuku really should have seen it coming. Ururaka had come to him, cheeks pink and smile bright as ever, to ask him if he wanted to have a group study session in his room that night. Izuku loved spending time with his friends, the self-styled “Dekusquad”, so he’d readily agreed. But it occurred to him now that perhaps he should have been paying closer attention to Ururaka’s behavior, because now, approaching his room at what he’d thought was the agreed upon time, the only person he saw waiting there for him was Todoroki.

“Hi, Todoroki,” he called out as he got closer to his door, deciding for the moment to go with the flow and give Ururaka the benefit of the doubt. After all, he didn’t have any tangible proof that she was up to something. “Are you here for the group study session Ururaka mentioned?” Todoroki shook his head.

“She told me you had something you wanted to talk to me about,” he said, straightening up from where he’d been leaning against Izuku’s door. “Something private.” 

Damn it, Ururaka, Izuku thought to himself. He now knew her scheme, and he was sorely regretting ever confiding in her about his crush on Todoroki. 

“I don’t,” he said. “If I did, I would have come and gotten you myself. There’s no reason for me to use Ururaka as a messenger.”

“That’s what I thought too,” Todoroki replied. “But it’s Ururaka. Why would she lie?” He seemed genuinely puzzled at this, and Izuku realized for the first time exactly how Ururaka could use her reputation for openess and honesty as a weapon.

“I don’t know,” he said. “I don’t think she would, but she must have been mistaken, because I don’t have anything I need to tell you.” Todoroki seemed to consider that for a moment, weighing Ururaka’s reputation for honesty against his trust in Izuku.

“Right, of course,” he finally said. “I’m sorry for bothering you.”

“You’re never a bother, Todoroki,” Izuku replied. “Not to me, anyway.” Todoroki smiled one of his rare smiles at that, turned away from Izuku, and started to head up the hall to the elevator. The second he did, Izuku heard Ururaka yell “Now!” and the next thing he knew her hand was slapping his back and he was weightless. Somewhere off to the left, he heard the roar of Iida’s engines, and he managed to shift himself around in midair in time to see him come pelting down the hall dragging Todoroki behind him by the collar of his shirt. As they approached Izuku’s dorm room door, Ururaka yanked it open- which was the exact moment that he realized that he’d forgotten to lock it- grabbed him by the ankle, and threw him into his room, yelling “Release!” just as Iida tossed Todoroki bodily through the open doorway, leaving Izuku with nowhere to land but directly on top of him. The door slammed shut during Izuku’s rush to right himself and get off from on top of Todoroki, and when he tried the doorknob, it wouldn’t turn. The people on the other side of his door must have done something to jam it shut.

“Ururaka!” Izuku yelled, pounding desperately on the door. “Let us out!”

“Uh uh!” Ururaka replied. “You can come out when you’ve resolved your issues. I can’t watch you two dance around each other anymore.”

“Ururaka!” Izuku protested, but was met with silence. She and Iida must have left.

“What did she mean, ‘work out our issues’?” Todoroki asked after a moment. Izuku turned toward him and saw that he was leaning against the side of his desk, arms crossed over his chest, a familiar focused look in his heterochromatic eyes that gave Izuku heart palpitations under normal circumstances but now seemed especially heart attack inducing, given the situation.

“I don’t know,” he lied, hoping it sounded convincing.

“I think you do,” Todoroki replied, shaking his head. “And I think I do too.”

“You- you do?” Izuku stammered, his mouth going dry. Todoroki nodded. 

“Ururaka said she couldn’t watch us dance around each other anymore,” he said, slowly, a single step at a time, crossing the room to where Izuku stood by the door. “And it does feel like a dance sometimes, the most agonizing one I’ve ever experienced in my life.” By now, he was standing directly in front of Izuku, right in his personal bubble, leaving almost no space between them.

“I’ve been trying to tell you this for months now, but I could never find the right words,” he whispered, reaching out to tuck one of Izuku’s curls behind his ear, touch lingering on his skin, tracing the line of his cheekbone and jaw down to his chin, before he gently took hold of it with just his fingertips and tilted his head upwards so he could look directly into his eyes.

“I’m in love with you, Midoriya,” he said, so intensely that there could be no doubt in Izuku’s mind that he meant it.

“Izuku,” he corrected, his voice coming out in a hoarse whisper. “Call me Izuku.” 

“Izuku,” Todoroki echoed with a beatific smile, and kissed him.

#flufftober #flufftober2021 #flufftober day 7 #my hero academia #ochako ururaka #tenya lida #izuku midoriya #shoto todoroki #iidachako #tododeku #my fic #arianna writes

[frodos-bizarre-adventure]

@gingerreggg heya

Heads Up- Part 9 (Joseph x Bust! Caesar)

▪▪▪▪▪▪▪

Two weeks had passed since the fateful day, when Joseph's project took on a life on its own-- literally.

And almost just as quickly as he'd come to life, Caesar just became another part of Joseph's household. By now Joseph just saw Caesar first, and an animate clay bust second: it was strange, in hindsight, how Joseph found himself making the very extraordinary...ordinary.

And so over time Joseph adjusted to everyday life with a living sculpture in his home. Suzi visited every other day or so, and her regular presence was welcome to the daily grind of the bored, bouncing bust.

Joseph became so accustomed to Caesar that at times he even forgot he wasn't a regular person.

"I brought some soda!" Joseph happily announced as he came home one evening with takeout dinner. He poured himself a glass and tried to offer Caesar some.

"Wanna try? It's good."

Caesar just glared at him with narrowed eyes. "Seriously?"

Joseph laughed awkwardly. "Oh, right." But then he had a realization.

"Say, remember when I sprayed and varnished your bottom? You complained about the smell. Maybe you could taste too, even if you can't drink."

Caesar was intrigued by the idea. "I'd...I'd never bothered to try. I never feel thirsty anyway."

Bending down to Caesar's level, Joseph dipped his finger into his cup. "Open wide," he said. Caesar stuck out his tongue.

Joseph put a single drop of the soda on his tongue, and the bust's face lit up joyfully.

"This...this is good." said Caesar, taking a moment to savor the tiny speck of flavorful goodness. "A pity I can't drink it."

"You don't even have a throat," Joseph said. "But I'm glad you can at least enjoy it."

Caesar smiled.

------

Indeed, with Caesar virtually fated to remain a bust, much of Suzi and Joseph's usual tasks came around to helping Caesar enjoy the fullest life he possibly could.

One morning Caesar came bouncing to the kitchen to see Joseph hard at work at a peculiar contraption next to the kitchen table.

"What's that?" Caesar asked, perplexed.

"What's what?" Joseph mumbled in reply.

"That," Caesar answered, pointing with his lips. Joseph giggled, amused at his gesture.

"Oh, this little thing?" Joseph said, stepping aside to allow Caesar a closer look. "I figured you'd need some help getting up and down high surfaces, and since I think you'd like some independence I whipped up a little something for you."

Caesar was amazed by the device. It resembled something like a small dumbwaiter that Joseph had fixed to the kitchen table, with an elevating wooden platform attached to two ropes on pulleys.

Gently, Joseph guided Caesar onto the platform. "Now pull on the ropes with your mouth." he instructed, tugging on one.

Caesar did just that, and to his surprise he felt the platform, and himself, moving upward with each tug of his mouth. Five tugs later, he was onto the level of the table, and Caesar easily hopped off the platform and onto the table's top.

"And when you want to go back down, you just pull on the other rope," Joseph demonstrated. The 'up' rope, on the right, was colored red and the 'down' rope, on the left, was colored blue, just in case Caesar mixed them up by mistake and risked getting hurt.

"You're really good at making crafts, aren't you," Caesar said, now sure the kitchen table was going to be less of a problem.

"Of course," Joseph said, a bit boastfully. "I'm not just good at making works of art, but also creating works with a purpose!"

The last word struck a chord with Caesar.

Purpose.

"So, Joseph," he asked quietly, after a pause. "What is my purpose?"

Joseph was taken aback. He hadn't once considered it.

Caesar was supposed to be his finals art project. He was supposed to be submitted to the university and put on display at the gallery. He created Caesar for the sake of a grade. But looking at him now, so bright-eyed and warm and so full of life, how could he ever give him up? To leave him in a glass case in a public place, to be stared at by strangers?

Caesar was far too precious for that.

"You're my friend, and Suzi's too," Joseph told him. He leaned forward, and gently, lovingly, planted a kiss on the clay bust's forehead.

Caesar felt the warmth of the gesture, but at the same time, couldn't help but feel a little sad at the prospect of being an artistic masterpiece.

He was pretty to look at-- but he felt he wasn't useful for much else.

----------

When Suzi arrived the following morning, she was greeted by the smell of varnish and the noises of Caesar's loud complaining.

"Morning, Suzi," Joseph greeted as she walked into his room, his voice muffled by a face mask to keep out the smell.

He was gently painting Caesar all over with a clear, polished varnish, though one that was brushed on instead of sprayed.

"Since we can't make a body for Caesar, and he'll have to remain like this," Joseph explained to both his fellow artist and his artwork, "I figured that I ought to at least make life easier for him as much as I can." He showed Suzi the bottle of varnish.

"This ought to protect him from chipping off his paint, since he's gonna be hopping a lot. At least he won't scratch or deform himself when he presses onto things."

Caesar was none to pleased, however. "This stuff smells like shit!" he complained.

With a giggle, Suzi picked up a pair of cotton balls from a jar on Joseph's supplies and inserted them into Caesar's nostrils, one in each. "That should do it," she told him.

Caesar could only give an annoyed glare.

In the meantime, Joseph began painting the varnish onto Caesar's hair. It was his hair that tended to squish the most, especially the spikes of hair on his bangs.

"Won't the varnish make Caesar look too shiny?" Suzi queried.

"Don't worry, I picked a less-glossy matte finish to paint him with," Joseph reasurred. "I wouldn't want him looking too...sweaty."

"Though I do have another, glossy finish here too," Joseph added, picking up a smaller bottle with its own little brush, almost like nail polish. "This one is for his eyes."

Caesar panicked a little. "You're going to paint my eyes!?"

"Don't worry there, Caesarino," he said with a reassuring smile. "This won't hurt much. Hopefully." Caesar flinched a little as Joseph unscrewed the bottle.

"Ow!" Caesar said, as Joseph gently pulled his eyelids open and began to paint his eye with the glossy finish. It felt very weird. Even Suzi couldn't help but feel slightly uncomfortable.

Once both eyes were done Caesar gave a few tentative blinks.

"So, how's that, Caesar?" Joseph asked.

To Caesar's surprise and amazement, his vision seemed quite clearer. "I...I can actually see quite better," he told the sculptor.

Joseph firmly pressed a finger into Caesar's cheek, which, thanks to the now-dried varnish, no longer left a dent. "Yep, this worked well. This should make you waterproof too."

"And now you're finished! Ta-da!" Joseph said, turning a mirror toward Caesar. Looking at his own reflection, Caesar could see how much more gorgeous he seemed, now that Joseph had given him a bit more texture.

"So, we're good?" Joseph asked Caesar, as he admired himself. "You need any other finishing touches? Perhaps I could pad out your bottom with extra clay? Since you can't feel any more clay we add on, it could protect your underside more."

"No need," Caesar answered. "It's actually quite nice being able to feel the ground beneath me."

"Alright, just make sure to be careful," Joseph said, lowering him back down to the floor once he was sure that his varnish had dried.

Suzi wasn't convinced. "He's still naked. We ought to dress him up!" she said, pulling out colorful ribbons from her backpack. "This would looks pretty as a bow on your head!" she grinned, holding them out to Caesar.

"NO!" screamed Caesar, panicking. "I am not naked! Get those things away!"

And with a powerful thrust of his neck, Caesar hopped out of the room as fast as his little clay blob of a torso could carry him.

"Huh," Suzi said, as she watched the bust clumsily bounce away. "I guess he's not really into fashion."

-------

(Previous Chapter)

(Next Chapter)

#jjba #gingerreggg #hands of life au #heads up #jojos bizarre adventure #battle tendency #sculptor!joseph #bust!caesar #caejose #caesar x joseph

[autistic-stedebonnet]

“You are, I think, an evening star, of all the stars, the fairest”

Title is a Sappho quote

Yueki one-shot

---

Yue ran her hands through her hair. It had grown since the end of the war, trailing down just below her waist in silver waves, like light cascading off the edge of a crescent moon. Her hands were delicate and soft from years of silk and fur mittens and high quality moisturizers, contrasting with Suki’s rough, callused hands. Suki had told her once that she used to be insecure about her hands, which were larger than average and blistered easily before she became a Kyoshi Warrior and built up a tolerance. Yue thought that Suki’s hands were beautiful. They spoke of resilience and courage. Yue’s spoke of nothing but her sheltered, spoiled childhood.

“Yue?” Suki sidled up to her, resting her hand on Yue’s shoulder. “You’re thinking about it again, aren’t you?”

Yue nodded, swallowing the lump in her throat. “I can’t look at it Suki,” she whispered. “it just reminds me of my failure.”

“Hey, you didn’t fail!” Suki protested, gently moving Yue to face her. “You helped save the moon spirit. When Sokka told me the story-”

“But I didn’t.” Yue’s voice was always small and soft, but now it just sounded hurt. “That was all them. I- I’m weak, I can’t bend, I can’t even fight like you.”

“That’s not your fault.”

“I should’ve sacrificed myself, it was my job.”

Suki opened and closed her mouth several times before answering. “You wish you would’ve died? Yue that’s ridiculous.”

“I wish I could’ve done something,” Yue sighed, twirling her hair between her fingers mournfully. “The moon spirit gave me this gift, and I couldn’t do anything in return. Now every time I look in the mirror it’s just... a reminder that I’m weak.”

“Yue, stop that. You’re not weak. If you were weak would you have been able to defy your entire tribe to be free? Would you have been able to travel the world being chased by the fire nation and not given up?”

“I cried. A lot.”

“So did I!” Suki laughed. “We all cried a lot, except maybe Zuko, but that’s because he’s represses his emotions.”

Yue giggled. “Thanks Suki, you always know what to say.”

Suki lifted her hand as if to bring it to Yue’s face, but hesitated, letting it fall back at her side. She smiled lightly and wrapped Yue in an embrace. 

Suki smelled like dirt and sea salt, and despite her muscled physique, her embrace was gentle. It felt like home. Yue let herself melt into the other girl’s arms, breathing in shakily and resisting the urge to inhale her scent until she could carry it with her for the rest of the day. Yue hadn’t got a lot of physical affection growing up, her parents had never been huggers, and she hadn’t really had opportunities for friends. But Suki hugged her a lot, and every time Yue would wonder if she’d ever feel more loved, because it seemed impossible. She was the first to pull away, she always was, because she was afraid that if she held on any longer, she’d never be able to let go. 

Suki checked Yue’s cheeks for tears, her eyes scanning the smaller girl’s face with an expression that frustrated Yue so much, because she could never figure out what it meant. It was the same expression Sokka used to look at her with, but... but there was no way Suki liked her like that. They were best friends and Yue could accept that they would never be anything more. 

The idea came to her out of seemingly nowhere, although in hindsight, it’d probably been growing in the back of her mind for a while. She grabbed Suki’s hands and looked at her with an excited, almost mischievous countenance that she didn’t take on very often.

Suki raised an eyebrow. “Dude, you’re scaring me. What?”  

“Let’s dye my hair!” Yue said, grinning blindingly. She could tell that Suki was about to try and be rational, so she continued. “Come on, I know you don’t actually want to persuade me out of it. I want to be impulsive for once. We can use that stuff Sokka made! It’ll take a few months to wash out, but once it does my hair will be back to normal, so it won’t damage anything.” She bit her lip anxiously, her eyes gleaming with freedom that was still new to her.

“Yea, ok,” Suki chuckled. She broke out into a joyous grin and shook Yue’s shoulders a little roughly. “Yea! You’re gonna look so cool, what color do you want?”

“Pink!”

“That was... fast.”

Yue shrugged. “I guess this isn’t an entirely new idea. But...” she trailed off tentatively. “I want to do a color that’s not associated with any nation. Something that’s just for me.”

Suki smirked at her. “I thought pink was Ty Lee’s thing.”

“Ty Lee can’t own a color,” Yue replied, sticking her nose in the air. 

“Touché.”

---

“Have you ever done this before?” Yue asked as she settled into the rickety chair in the corner of Suki’s room. They’d been staying on Kyoshi Island for a few weeks, along with Sokka and Zuko (Yue made a note to get Suki in on her plans to get those two idiots together) and it was... really nice. 

Suki was silent for a moment and Yue swiveled in her seat to see the taller girls smiling guiltily. She raised her hands in defeat. “Fine, no, I haven’t. But it can’t be that hard right?”

Yue raised a skeptical eyebrow. “You better not ruin my hair.”

“Can’t make any promises.”

“Suki!”

Suki dipped her hands into the glass jar Sokka had given to them. It was apparently made of all organic materials, but cactus juice was technically organic, so that didn’t exactly speak to how safe it was. Suki told Yue to sit up taller and warned her that she might get dye on her tunic.

“Won’t that just be part of the adventure?” Yue asked in response.

“That’s it, you’ve been possessed.”

“Just put the pink stuff on my hair weirdo.”

“You’re the weirdo,” Suki muttered, already running her pink-stained hands through Yue’s hair. 

This was a terrible idea, Yue decided. Not because she didn’t want to color her hair, but because Suki was running her hands gently through her long hair and humming softly and Yue was sure that her heartbeat could be heard miles away. 

It was just a couple hours before dinner, so the sun had begun to dip gently below the horizon, kissing Yue’s dark skin in a fascinating contrast to her snow-white hair. Her cheeks were colored gold and dusted with pink and Suki thought she looked like a rainbow. Suki moved her lips silently as she found a rhythm in dying Yue’s hair. Soft whispers of the song she was mouthing escaped ever so often and she wished that she could see if Yue was smiling or not. Suki loved Yue’s smile, her real smile. The one that shone through when they sat beside the fire exchanging stories and jokes, or when they woke up early enough to watch the sunrise. Suki thought that Yue looked beautiful underneath the sun. Her hair would be tinted amber and her eyes would glow in a drastically different way to how they darkened when she looked at the moon. Maybe Yue had been blessed by the moon spirit, but Suki thought she looked like the sun. 

“Suki?” Yue turned her head slightly to where Suki could glimpse her eyelashes and the tip of her nose. “You stopped.”

Suki shook herself from her reverie and chuckled nervously, her skin heating up and glowing crimson. “Uh sorry, I was just...” What was she doing? Her heart ached with longing and really, Yue had been impulsive, why couldn’t she? Never one for timing, Suki whispered timidly, still facing the back of Yue’s head. “Yue? Can I tell you something?”

Yue’s breath hitched ever so slightly and Suki felt her shoulders tense. She hadn’t even realized her had was on her shoulder. So much for not ruining her tunic. It felt like hours of time moving slow as molasses before Yue finally answered. “Of course.”

“I-” Suki’s words caught in her throat and she groaned in frustration. What had come over her? She hadn’t been nervous at all when she was with Sokka before! “YueIreallylikeyoulikeasmorethanafriend,” she rushed, immediately stepping back and cursing herself beneath her breath.

But Yue didn’t say anything. Suki forced herself across the room to face her. “Please say something.”

Yue’s lips turned up slightly and she turned to look up at Suki. Her face was painted with sunlight and her hair was half pink and everything felt so indescribably perfect for a moment. “I- I like you too Suki.”

Suki decided she had never grinned larger in her life. She stopped wringing her hands anxiously. “Can I kiss you?”

She’d never seen Yue smile this large either, nor nod this vigorously.

Suki practically launched herself to the other girl, grasping her cheeks and smiling into the kiss. Yue’s hands were wrapped around her neck and her lips tasted like strawberries and she smelled like lavender. Kissing Yue was like dancing with the sun. It was new and almost scary, but so soft. And they fit together like puzzle pieces. Puzzle pieces stained bright pink and wrapped in a blanket of gold.

When they finally pulled apart for air, Yue was giggling and buried her face in the crook of Suki’s neck, muttering against her skin. “I can’t even tell you how long I’ve wanted to do that.” She lifted her head and Suki marveled at her lips, pearly lipgloss faded and smudged, cheeks flushed pink and-

Suki slapped her hand over her mouth and laughed. “Oh no, I made your cheeks all pink.”

Yue snickered. “Well now you’ve got pink all over your face, so I suppose we’re even.”

The sun was gone now and the moon hung in the window. Yue rested her forehead against Suki’s and breathed in dirt and sea salt. Maybe she could learn not to hate the moon, for its light washed over the room and made Suki’s eyes sparkle and highlighted her skin silver. The moon wasn’t her failure, it was love. It was patience and love and fierce protection. But maybe her hair being pink would help her remember that. She wasn’t the moon, she was Yue. Her own person, who loved Suki so much she could burst. And Suki was the steadiness of the earth and the courage of the sun and the joy of the wildflowers. 

Yue didn’t care that her face was pink, or that they were surely going to be answering a lot of questions at dinner. All she needed to care about was that Suki’s breath was warm against her face and her hands, rough and callused, brushed like feathers along the back of her neck and through the un-dyed portion of her hair. This, she decided was freedom. 

#AHHH I LOVE THEM #yue #suki #yueki #yueki fic #yueki fanfic #atla #Avatar The Last Airbender #avatar #atla fanfic #atla fic #yue atla #suki atla #yueki oneshot #atla one shot #willow writes

[bunivys]

I don’t know why but this feels like nick and Sabrina to me.

- “i said UGLY christmas sweaters not nsfw christmas sweaters, we can NOT wear these, my boss will kill me”

I stayed up late to finish this one because I could not, for the life of me, stop laughing LOL. Here you go, thank you for sending this in! ❤️😹 (btw, this is set in some random mortal AU lol)

“Nick!” Sabrina called as she bounded up the mortuary’s stairway, the front door shutting behind her, heels hanging by their straps in her hands. “Did you get the sweaters like I asked?”

The annual Christmas festival was being held in Greendale’s city park at the very center of the downtown district. It was a small patch of green set in between the buildings, and, as of that morning, it had been crammed full of various food and art booths, set to sell Christmas trinkets and last-minute gifts, as well as handmade decor like wreaths and ornaments. Hilda herself was going to be there selling her famous Christmas cookies. 

More importantly, Sabrina had been in charge of organizing it, answering directly to the town’s Mayor. She was set to take the stage and introduce the event that evening, and her nerves had been on edge since the second she had woken up. Nick had offered her several extra kisses on her way out that morning, letting her know that if she needed anything to text him. Halfway through the day, it had dawned on her that she’d forgotten to order a set of ugly Christmas sweaters for them to wear to the event and had tasked him with taking care of it.

“Of course,” Nick said, the door to her room swinging wide open to reveal him. “I literally only had one job, and I did it.”

“Oh, thank God.” She followed him into the room. “Let me see what you got.”

Across her bed were randomly splayed Christmas sweaters and as Sabrina glanced over them, her eyes shot wide open. She had requested ugly sweaters, things covered in tinsel and pom-poms and stupid, harmless phrases, but definitely not this.

“Nick,” Sabrina squawked, “are you freaking serious?” Nick looked entirely too innocent as she lifted up one of the sweaters, holding it up to her chest so that it faced him. Along the front of it, in bold, sparkly text in varying Christmas colors, it read: Unwrap me for a naughty surprise. 

“What?” Nick replied, pressing his lips together in order to keep a straight face. “You don’t have to pick that one, there are plenty to choose from.” He motioned toward the pile.

“Oh, really?” Sabrina grabbed for another, her voice tight as she picked up a green sweater with a string of battery-operated lights attached to the front. “You mean like this one that says: ‘Please turn me on.’ Or wait, maybe—” she tossed that one at him, pausing only long enough to hold up a different one with a winking Santa on it,  “—‘Ask your mom if I’m real?’” Her voice rose in pitch as she read it out, ringing deep with disbelief and utter shock at the thought that a sweater like that could even exist.

“’Jingle my bells’?” Sabrina nearly shouted a second later.

Nick chuckled.

“This isn’t funny! You’ve lost your goddamned mind, Nicholas!” She knew she was frowning, and she thought one of her eyes might have been twitching from anger. Ambrose came sauntering in, drawn in by the volume of her voice ringing through the house. 

“What’s going on?” Ambrose asked. “I’m pretty sure the neighbors can hear you, and they’re all dead.”

Sabrina’s face lit up bright red, ready to snap at him, too. Before she could, Nick went on to casually say, “We’re picking between Christmas sweaters. It’s between those or—” he picked up the last one, held it up against his chest that time, and read out, “‘Santa’s favorite ho’”

“Ooh,” Ambrose sang. “I’ll take that one, please!”

“I hate you both,” Sabrina seethed. “This is not what I asked for and you—” She turned to look at Nick, who immediately straightened up and played serious again, even though he had nearly dissolved into laughter with Ambrose a split second earlier. “You—you—”

“Babe,” Nick cut in.

“Do not interrupt me, or so help you God and Satan himself, Nicholas, your soul will forever be tied to the morgue below because I am going to—” She stopped herself, shut her eyes for a few moments, and forced herself to breathe deeply as the reality of the situation slowly dawned on her. There wasn’t enough time to go back to the store. All of them were closed for the evening in anticipation of the festival. She was going to be laughed at forever. “The mayor is going to be there. I’m presenting this stupid event and I have to come in as ‘Santa’s favorite ho?’ Are you serious?”

“That title’s actually taken—” Ambrose interrupted. He shut up quickly when Sabrina shot him a pointed look.

Nick set his hands carefully on her shoulders. “Babe, I’m sorry. I wasn’t thinking—”

“No shit!”

“I wasn’t thinking it would it would turn into this, Sabrina, I knew you were stressed and I just wanted to make you laugh. Look.” He held up his hands as she tried to barge in with another sentence. “I didn’t show you this one yet.” Nick picked up the last sweater, a little red one she hadn’t noticed had been tossed over her headboard. It had a black cat on the front, similar to Salem, with text that read, ‘Meowy Christmas!’ across the top.

“Oh,” Sabrina exhaled, her anger dialing back several notches suddenly, leaving a small pout on her face instead. “I—Oh. Okay, well, that one works. I guess.”

“I’m so sorry, Sabrina, I was hoping you would laugh.” He held out his arms tentatively. “Come here?”

Sabrina begrudgingly walked into his embrace, and Nick draped his arms around her, rubbing a hand up and down her back. He kissed her hair, her forehead, any part of her he could reach, repeating how sorry he was. 

“Whatever,” Sabrina grumbled, not quite ready to admit that in hindsight, it had been sort of funny. At the very least, she understood that Nick had only tried to cheer her up, even if she was still a little peeved.

“Forgive me?” Nick asked sheepishly. “I might not Santa’s favorite ho, but I could still be yours?”

Sabrina rolled her eyes and took the cat sweater from him, pulling away so that she could off and change before he actually made her laugh with one of his stupid jokes. She was certain they were running late by now, too. “I’m divorcing you,” she announced on her way.

“But we’re not married,” Nick replied, suddenly a little nervous himself.

“Well, consider it never happening now.” 

“Sabrina, wait—”

The door to her bathroom shut, but he briefly saw the corner of her smirk before it was gone.

Ambrose, who had already donned his sweater, shrugged and said, “You can sleep in my room tonight.”

#ask bun #nabrina fics #winter prompts #thoughtsaboutshows