#oh fuck do i want this in the main bb tag

[paranormal-potatoes]

Here is a sad prompt with the old man, Gherman:

"....You were... My sunshine, My only.. S-sun... Shine, You made me happy... When skies... We-were gray... You'll ne-never.... Know, Dear, How much I loved you...."

*His voice becomes shakier, Tears begin to fall*

"....So please... Oh please don't take.... M-my sunshine away...."

"....Gehrman, Are you....crying?"

okay i swear i meant for this to be angstier but uhh idk, not as much crying, could be more but i need to just post what i have before i overthink and then never do it bc ~anxiety~ also this hasn't been betaed or edited that much so. also ended up longer than i thought so under readmore. also ended up only having like 1 line of the song being said/sang bc i feel weird about including songs in stories unless its like. karaoke or a song playing on the radio

takes place in my time travel au. anyways have this before i chicken out

given im posting this from my phone, i hope the formatting doesnt fuck up.

=====

“...my sunshine, my only sunshine...”

 

“... are you singing?”

 

Taylor startles, spinning around and knocking their Saw Cleaver to the ground, fortunately missing the bottles by the work table.

 

Hm, I should probably move those, it’ll be quite a mess if they break.

 

“Fuck! How are you so quiet? You’re in a wheelchair!”

They’ve been here some time, their mask hanging around their neck instead of pulled up to their nose. A new scar marks their neck, likely a fatal one from its placing.

 

They retrieve their weapon, placing it back on the table.

 

He should probably ask how they’re handling the constant dying.

 

“Were you singing?” he repeats instead.

 

To his amusement, their cheeks immediately redden.

 

Good gods, they need more sunlight, they’re paler than Maria was.

 

They rub the back of their neck, embarrassed.

 

“No? I’m not that good at singing.”

 

And some self-confidence. Are they this nervous in combat?

 

“I was just humming, I’m sorry if–”

 

He interrupts, “Why are you apologizing?”

 

They shrink a bit and he can hear Ludwig lamenting his people skills, already poor before his confinement. He prefers teaching over reassurance.

 

Gehrman tries a different approach.

 

“What can you hear?”

 

They blink, tilting their head to listen, the burnt feather edges of their cap making them even more birdlike.

 

Hm, I wonder if Eileen is still the Hunter of Hunters.

 

“Wind. The fire. Messengers chittering,” they frown, focusing.

 

“And what does Yharnam sound like?”

 

Their expression blanks for a moment.

 

“Before nightfall,” he clarifies.

 

“Um. Dogs, people moving inside their homes. Quiet talking, birds. Water in the canal. Wind, fire crackling. Huntsmen walking around,” they list.

 

He lifts an eyebrow.

 

“Oh,” they realize what he’s getting at. “It’s a lot quieter here. There’s less, uh, life.”

 

“I might prefer quiet over dozens of talking people, but that’s a preference, not–” he gestures around them.

 

“That’s a choice.”

 

Well, this was a choice, too, but not one he knew the extent of.

 

Their expression suggests they’re familiar with choices being taken from them.

 

“Your humming, or singing, isn’t a problem. You’re welcome to continue.”

 

They nod hesitantly.

 

He leaves.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

After that, he hears Taylor humming in the Dream, sometimes singing softly enough he can only catch some of the words.

 

(“...my sunshine, my only sunshine...”)

 

They always turn to humming or simply stop when they notice him.

 

They’ll come looking for him at times, if only to say hello, sometimes asking questions or showing him something they’ve found.

 

He almost starts laughing when they show him a Reiterpallasch and Chikage they recovered from Cainhurst. He’s less amused when they explain they found an unopened summons addressed to them, even less so when they admit they accepted a covenant with the Vileblood Queen.

 

They grudgingly tell him what happened in Cainhurst, about Logarius and the Vileblood slaughter, how the grounds are overrun with bloodlickers and dead women roam the halls.

 

He doesn’t know how to feel about that.

 

Maria’s mother came to the funeral to see her daughter again, refusing to look at any of the hunters. Her cousin, Cole, spent ten minutes glaring at Gehrman, blaming him for his cousin’s death.

 

He doesn’t disagree.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Taylor brings more weapons to show him, ones they found in Yharnam or the dungeons.

 

They’re extremely delighted to show him ones recovered from the dungeons, enamored with the Beast Cutter and Boom Hammer.

 

He shows them a picture of the Whirligig Saw, telling them it was designed by the Powder Kegs, who also made their Rifle Spear and the Boom Hammer.

 

Their eyes glitter in excitement.

 

Perhaps telling them about it was a mistake.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

They find some of Teague’s old writing from before he shortened his name. He would be delighted someone else who rejected gender would take his name.

 

Teagan looks far livelier than when they first arrived.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

He finds himself humming as he puts them back together, stitching their chest closed.

 

A beast didn’t do this. This was done by a knife, someone was careful and deliberate. Someone with experience carved them open.

 

(“H–help...”)

 

He shouldn’t have let himself become this attached. Once the hunt ends, they’ll be gone, forgetting all of this. He and Plain Doll will be alone once more.

 

He keeps humming and putting them back together.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

He finds himself humming the tune again while working on a Saw Cleaver.

 

He’s accepted this isn’t a dream, which leaves him with time travel. Somehow he’s in the past, before the first Blood Moon, before his contract.

 

Before Maria’s suicide and Teague’s death.

 

Before Teagan.

 

He’s sure they had something to do with this. If it were a dream, he’d say Flora was responsible but it isn’t.

 

Are they somewhere in the past? Or did they take his place?

 

No. Why would he have been pushed into the past if they had? So where are they? What happened to them?

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

Teague, unsurprisingly, comes to find him, leans against the doorframe in silence.

 

“Still having too realistic dreams?”

 

He doesn’t answer.

 

“Or, uh, are you just not sleeping to avoid them?”

 

“Like you’re one to talk.”

 

Teague and Maria carried the most guilt over the hamlet. Maria threw herself into caring for her patients and Teague tried to run from it for a long time.

 

They all did. Sooner or later, it caught up to them. He hopes they at least found peace in death, but he doubts it.

 

Sometimes he thinks he got lucky, undying as he was. Other times he envies them for finding release from the guilt.

 

He wonders how Teague would react if he told him everything. Probably think he went mad. Perhaps he has. He has no proof anything he remembers happened at all.

 

Even his right leg is back, which keeps taking him by surprise. He keeps expecting pain when he walks for too long but it never comes. His memory isn’t failing him constantly and the world is no longer foggy.

 

It feels like a gift. It feels like a curse.

 

He shouldn’t have gotten so attached to Teagan, he shouldn’t have let them get so attached.

 

He has nothing of the dream but memories, a song he doesn’t even know the words to and the knowledge Teagan likely sacrificed something to give him a sunrise.

 

“... Gehrman, are you crying?” Teague asked.

 

He reaches up and finds tears.

 

“It would seem so.”

 

“Want to talk about it?”

 

“No.”

 

Teague snorts.

 

“Yeah, figured. It’s like pulling teeth with you. Between you and Maria, I’m about ready to get Ludwig involved. Let you two get motherhenned.”

 

“I’ll tell him you’re the one who broke his bedroom door.”

 

Teague holds his hands up in surrender, alarmed.

 

“Geez, alright, alright! No need to go that far, damn!”

 

He wipes the tears away.

 

“But, uh, seriously. I’m willing to listen.”

 

“I know. Go to sleep, if I have to wake you up in the morning, I’m using a bucket of water.”

 

“Only if you stop for the night and get some sleep yourself. Don’t think I haven’t noticed your shitty sleeping habits.”

 

He sighs but lays his tools down.

 

~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~-~

 

“So!” Ludwig claps his hands, grinning brightly. “Someone from the south brought word of a village that had a three day long storm.”

 

Maria’s expression tightens. If he didn’t know what to look for now, Gehrman would have missed it. He kicks himself for missing it last time.

 

“And? Storms can be fucked up,” Teague said, picking at his nails.

 

“They aren’t normally preceded by a light burning through the woods and the waters rising several feet before the storm. It happened a month ago. They’ve requested assistance, the wildlife has turned aggressive and avoids the deep woods.”

 

“What is the village’s name?” Maria looks as she always had, but Gehrman can see the guilt and shame weighing on her now.

 

“Aramore. I thought us five could go investigate.”

 

“No, originally you wanted to take some new Hunters and I vetoed it because they wouldn’t be able to convince you not to adopt twenty children,” Laurence said, amused.

 

Ludwig waves him off.

 

“Bet we’re still coming home with a kid,” Teague jokes.

 

“Don’t jinx us, Amelia’s enough,” Gehrman said.

 

“Yes, my daughter is wonderful,” said Laurence, deliberately ignoring the two’s meaning. “She’d probably like a sibling. Or maybe one of you two will bring home a child.”

 

“Hell no, I’m not having kids ever.”

 

“I can barely tolerate adults, what makes you think I want a child?”

 

Teagan comes to mind. He doesn’t know when they were born or even their birth name but he thinks they would be the only child he’d choose to care for. Although, with his luck, he’d traumatize them more than they already were.

 

He turns his attention back to Ludwig, pushing the thoughts aside. The chances of him being able to find them again are low, especially without a birth year and family name. And even if he could find them again, he wouldn’t be able to do anything. They mentioned a mother once, clearly living and he’s not kidnapping a child.

 

It's pointless to consider.

 

He has nothing from the dream but memories and a song he doesn’t know the words to.

#potato answers #wyrms-bitch #potato writes fic #my writing #fic: old man hunter and his eldritch child #its been uhhhh ages since ive posted anything not wip so literally just take this before i chicken out and delete everything ever #oh fuck do i want this in the main bb tag #hhhhhhnnnnnggggg #do it do it do it just do it #bloodborne #literally cant express how rusty i am in writing #yes i know its mostly dialogue and introspection #im bad at description #wait no its deliberate. totally #totally deliberate #okay im just stalling at this poitn so fuck ig #ANYWAYS TAKE THIS #the actual au fic this is part of (not that this will be in it‚ this is just a one shot) is primarily a comedy so just #be aware #potato rambles in tags #<- BIG TIME RAMBLING #IM GONNA GO PLAY AND PRETEND IM NOT HORRIBLY ANXIOUS NOW HAHAHA #im deeply attached to this old man alright #WAIT HANG ON IF YOU'RE STILL READING THESE TAGS‚ EVERY RELATIONSHIP MENTIONED IS PLATONIC #INCLUDING MARIA AND GEHRMAN #I EXTREMELY READ HER AS GAY AND HIM AS AROACE #i also can read him as gay but mostly aroace #okay bye now #potatoes finished fics

[shinestarhwaa]

I’m hereeeee !!

Okay okay so you may or may not know my sub Mingi agenda, that man is so fekjshejejsjdjd

But but but, what if he were to get with a virgin ? I think the dynamic would be pretty interesting because it isn’t in his nature to be dominant but he wants to comfort and help you because it’s your first time :((

would it end with him guiding you in how to please him ? would it end with him on a service top wavelength ? I’ll leave that up to you ml <3

I've never written this before but I think this plot is interesting so here goes nothing-

NIRVANA || SONG MINGI

Genre: Smut

Pairing: Bf!Mingi x Male reader

Word Count: 0.9K

Warnings/tags: Dirty language, virginity loss, blowjob, handjob, fingering, anal protected sex, mingi has a bigass cock, mingi is actually a sub but will be a softdom for you bb <3, catch is he will still take dick in his ass even if he ain't a sub

@anyamaris @a-soft-hornytiny @whatudowhennooneseesyou @star1117-archives @wooyoungmybelovedhusband @pyeonghongrie-main @woosanbby @dreamlesswonder86

Tell me if u wanna be added to my taglist ❣️

ENJOY!

You were nervous, so nervous your heart was pounding against your chest. You wondered if Mingi could hear it. You straddled him on his bed and you had just confessed to be a virgin.

"That's not a problem," he smiled, "I can show you how to do it."

Mingi pressed his lips on yours, softly moving them against you as he started unbottoning your shirt. His hands slid over your chest as he deepened the kiss.

You felt yourself getting weak at the knees, even while sitting, completely melting into Mingi's arms.

It didn't take long before both your pants and boxers were off, leaving you two in nothing but your unbuttoned shirt and his oversized hoodie.

Your cock stood proudly against your stomach, twitching at the anticipation of what would happen tonight. "I'll show you how a blowjob feels, hm? You deserve to get your dick sucked, baby."

He gestured you to sit at the edge of the bed, where you sat down as he got on his knees in front of you.

The way his eyes looked up at you as he took the tip of your cock in his mouth had you shuddering with anticipation. You had been waiting for this moment for too long.

Mingi lightly sucked on the tip, flicking his tongue around it. You whined softly, grabbing a handful of his hair when he lowered his mouth on you.

"O-oh god, M-Mingi!" You moaned out when his pace quickened. Mingi took it slow but the slurping noises leaving his mouth nearly made you reach Nirvana.

"F-fuck, just like that, t-that's so good Mingi!"

He made sure your eyes were focussed on him as he took care of your cock, palming your balls and massaging them to increase the stimulation.

His head bobbed up and down your cock quickly as he dug his nails in your thighs. You groaned as you felt the familiar warmth in your lower tummy.

"Mingi, oh God, I swear, I'm gonna cum if you don't sto-- Oh- oh- Oh god, god, yes, c-cumming!"

He pulled off your cock and pumped it quickly in his large hand, making you cum all over his face.

"Gosh," you panted out, "you're insane." Your boyfriend grinned as he swiped some cum off his face. "You're quite delicious, Y/N."

"Now, I'm gonna teach you how to finger me," Mingi said as he layed down on the bed, spreading his legs. Your eyes widened at his casualness. Mingi reached over to his nightstand to grab a bottle of lube.

"Come on, Y/N, I'm not waiting forever," he grinned. "How can I focus with this view?" You defended yourself as you crawled over to him.

Mingi squirts the lube on your fingers and some on his hole, biting his lip at the coldness.

"Okay, you can insert one finger." "Any finger?" Mingi rolled his eyes. "Use your middle finger, idiot." You laughed and carefully inserted your middle finger into his puckering hole.

"Now slowly... Don't go too crazy right away, go easy," Mingi gasped. He folded his legs up to his chest, giving you perfectly easy access.

You slowly moved your fingers in and out of him, deeper and deeper every time. Mingi whined when he felt your long, slender finger reach places he couldn't himself.

"N-now put in a second one, put it in baby," he moaned. You pushed a second finger into Mingi, picking up the pace. You felt a bump inside him and Mingi groaned and twitched at the feeling of you hitting it.

"Right, right there baby, do that again," he moaned. You smirked, gaining confidence and you entered a third finger, fucking him deeply, scissoring him open.

"God, yes, that's it baby, keep doing that!" He moaned out. "Right there, Mingi? Do you like that?" "O-oh I like it, I love it, fuck, oh~"

Your soul nearly projected from your body as Mingi started to moan louder, jerking off his own cock as you fucked him with your fingers.

He stopped when he felt himself get close. He pinned you down on the bed and licked a stripe up your neck with a big smirk. "Gonna ride you now, okay? Gonna bounce on your pretty cock."

Mingi positioned himself above you, sinking down on your length rising back up to bottom out. He repeated this a few times before completely taking your cock, sitting on you, adjusting to the stretch of his hole around your dick.

Your boyfriend started bouncing on your member, sounds of skin clapping together and whiny moans filling the room.

You closed your eyes, groaning at the feeling of Mingi's hole on your cock. "Keep your eyes open, for me. Watch me. Watch me bounce on your cock, look at me."

Looking straight into his eyes, you saw the pleasure taking over. He quickened his pace, cock twitching as it leaked with pre-cum.

He looked just adorable like this, even if he was a tall guy, the way he took your cock in his ass and the way his hands played with his dick made you lose your mind.

"I'm so close! Gonna fucking cum!" Mingi moaned loudly. "M-me too, Me too, baby!" You moaned when he picked up the pace. His hole clenched around your dick, sending you over the edge.

"Yes! Yes, pump your fucking seeds in me!" Mingi moaned as he came over your chest. When he was done he layed down on your chest, face right in his cum as your cum dribbled out of his ass.

"Y-you got it now?"

"Yeah I think I got the hang of it, time for round 2?"

#kpop #ateez #smut #mingi #song mingi #ateez x reader #ateez x male reader #mingi x male reader #m x m

[janujaja]

Thai BL Favourites Tag List Game

Of COURSE @lost-my-sanity1 want me to partake in this and I am doing it for that wee little child only.

Favourite BL

I mean, it was a tight competition between THE 2 - MSP and BB. But as I have screamed out into the void before, BB just takes the cake, man. That show viscerally changed me as a person. I am a NEW BEING after BB. It's the way in which it came during the pandemic with its amazing acting and directing and music and STORY and chemistry and all that and more. MSP is a close second but my uni bois have a special place in my heart.

[p.s I love nanon and his entire face in this scene so much I cannot even descRIBE]

Favourite Pairing

The pretentious me hates how I am following the mainstream and not thinking of some obscure pairings but yeah TinnGun genuinely deserve it. I am sorry but I still get butterflies whenever I watch the last scene of ep 4. That kind of chemistry is super hard to come by and GemFourth did such a good job, I love them. 🥺 I wanna forget ever having watched MSP and watch them all over again.

Some noteworthy mentions are obviously patpran, everything maxtul plays, akkayan, biblebuild, etc.

OH I do infact have a not THAT mainstream pair! It's whatever couple name mark and perth acted as in the [admittedly not a BL] show, The Stranded, on Netflix.

Favourite Character

Tinn. I relate so much to that boy, especially his awkwardness. Also he is super cute and I am super cute. He is also super simpy and I love that in a man. I truly don't know if I want him or want to be him.

[ANOTHER noteworthy mention is Pleum in Ghost Host, Ghost House cuz again, mans is a walking green flag and a simp. ALSO hella awkward. *gasps* I have a type].

Favourite side character

This position is shared by 2 of my fav comic reliefs who are also very pure hearted I love them to bits - Tiwson from MSP and Tankhun from Kinnporsche. The series truly wouldn't have been anything without them and I stand by it.

Favourite Scene

If I could say the entirety of ep 5 of BB, I would have. But if I had to choose. This.

Nothing surpasses this. Paof told them to make it award fucking worthy with the angst and they fucking did it. Ohm in this scene does so many things to me I cannot even I shall be kicked out from society if I ever open my mouth. I can't even stand seeing that gif cuz my knees will buckle down that very second. It also paved the way for the rooftop kiss TM so.

Favourite Line

I mean. I warned you about this in the previous question so. It's more to do with the way he says it but it's still my fav cuz it was done right.

Underrated Actor:

SING who plays the role of the villain in Not Me. It is time that he got some main character roles, gmm.

Most anticipated BL and why:

1. Dangerous Romance cuz I have missed seeing Perth and Chimon, another 2 actors that can ACT, in a main role.

2. Only Friends cuz

3. I feel you linger in the air cuz plot looks interesting and they r both hunks.

Healthiest relationship in a bl:

Tinngun. Aint even have to put up a fight.

Most toxic relationship in a bl:

I mean, there are lots, girlie. If you immediately thought of that one pairing after seeing this question, then yeap I am going with that pairing too wink wink.

Guilty Pleasure Series:

Tonhon Chonlatee and that too only the first few eps. I love khaotung man what do I do.

Bonus! Most underrated series:

I think khun chai is pretty underrated in the sense that it's very telenovelaesque and mayhaps not fully bl so people r put off by it but I LOVED that show to bits.

YYY was a comparatively underrated series too even though I loved the romantic moments as much as the weird and comedic ones. It truly sits in a league of its own.

OOOKIE thassit for now. I have exhausted my typing abilities and I am pretty sure I left a lot of good series and scenes off cuz my brain couldn't conjure them up while I was typing.

I welcome anyone else who wants to try this out honestly, but if @ashedddaisy and @gaylittlepieceofsh1t could contribute their think pieces, I would LOVE to read em.

#thai series #thai bl #bl series #my school president the series #tinngun #first khaotung #bad buddy series #ohmnanon #khun chai #yyy the series #dangerous romance the series #only friends

[lacontroller1991]

Apology (Rick Flag x F!Reader)

Requested by: @a-reader-and-a-writer "Is that what you call an apology?" and @babblydrabbly "are you busy? Can I talk to you for a minute?"

Main Master List

Writing Prompt Master List

Reassurance Starters List

150 Random Prompts

Warnings: cheating, language, 2016 Rick, June is a bitch, hint at possession, hint at nonconsensual kissing

==========

You really should've known. You really should've known that when you said the first 'I love you' and he didn't say it back. You really should've known that Rick Flag was not over June Moone. But it was really a nail in the head when you caught her on top of him in his office, the two of them locking lips. Rick was only alerted to your presence when he heard your gasp followed by the drop of your coffee and his, coffee he had asked you to get.

It's been a week since the incidence and you avoided him like the plague, even going as far as asking Waller to assign you to any secondary team, away from the Colonel. But, as all things go, you can't avoid him forever. Which leads to now, him walking into your office with a bouquet of flowers, your favorite flowers. "Oh look, you remembered my favorite flowers..." He sighs and moves to take another step into your office. You're quick to put a stop to it. "I don't want to see you."

"Are you busy? Can I talk to you for a minute?" You don't look up from your computer. "Please, let me explain."

"There's nothing to explain. You're not over that witch. I get it. But please, leave me the hell alone."

"No, you don't get it. I'm over her. She came onto me. I couldn't stop her."

"That's bullshit, Richard. You're twice her size, three times as strong, and you can't pick her off your lap and tell her to stop? Is that what you call an apology? If so, kindly, fuck off." You return to your screen, typing away at the report Waller had assigned to you when Rick sets the flowers down and plops himself in your chair, placing his chin in the palm of his hand.

"I don't know what came over me, darlin'. It was like I didn't have control over my own body. It felt like I couldn't move."

"So you're saying she possessed you?" You raise an eyebrow as you lean back in your seat.

"I don't know. Maybe? All I know is I would never do that to you. Ever. And I'm sorry I did."

"Did you just hear yourse.. never mind. Look. Do you love her?"

"No. I did. But I don't anymore. You're the one I want."

"Then why did you not say it back, Rick? Why did you not say you love me?"

"Because I was scared. But I'm not anymore," he moves in front of your chair and sinks to his knees, taking your hands in his. "I love you (Y/N). And I'm sorry I kissed her. But at least I know for certain now that you're the only one that I love. Please, forgive me? Can we move past this?"

You pull your hands from his and think for a moment. If you're being honest with yourself, the past week without him has been hell. Between lack of sleep and failure to achieve sexual gratification, you never realized how badly you need Rick Flag. Giving a small sigh, you take his face in your hands and press a kiss to his forehead before leaning back in your seat.

"Richard Flag, if you ever fucking do that again. I will make your life hell. Understand?"

He gulps thickly but presses a chaste kiss to your lips either way. "I promise, you won't regret giving me a second chance."

"I sure hope not."

=========

General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @himbovillain-anon @a-reader-and-a-writer @babblydrabbly @fairchildflag @infatuatedjanes @niki-xie

Joel Related Tag List: @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @witchygagirl @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @heart-0n-fire @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachel1992 @a-girl-who-loves-disney @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @knivesareout @mattymurdocksbitch @katjnordstrom96 @bb-skyrunner @edwardbaldwin @yespolkadotkitty @heresathreebee @klmurr @madkovacs @wxr-zxne @wtfobiwan @alieninoklahoma

#rick flag x reader #rick flag x you #colonel rick flag x reader #colonel rick flag x you #colonel flag x reader #colonel flag x you #joelkinnaman #joel kinnaman #colonel rick flag #rick flag #rick flag imagine #rick flag fanfiction #the suicide squad #tss #dceu tss #reader insert #colonel flag #writing prompts

[bemusedlybespectacled]

I posted 5,941 times in 2022

That's 3,533 more posts than 2021!

300 posts created (5%)

5,641 posts reblogged (95%)

Blogs I reblogged the most:

@hadeantaiga

@sorrelchestnut

@do-you-have-a-flag

@vaspider

@piratewolf

I tagged 1,460 of my posts in 2022

#our flag means death - 383 posts

#personal - 235 posts

#askbox - 98 posts

#whump - 45 posts

#castlevania - 42 posts

#someone get that man a dom - 42 posts

#the witcher - 36 posts

#con o'neill - 32 posts

#izzy hands - 32 posts

#bb is a lawyer - 31 posts

Longest Tag: 138 characters

#my religious affiliation is 'nothing unless we're discussing different denominations of christianity at which point i am catholic on main'

I sent 1 gift in 2022

My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

honestly, I'm okay with spending money to get rid of ads my ad-blocker normally can, and I appreciate @staff giving us this option instead of making it a patreon clone. I pay for a subscription to Reddit and TVTropes and Dropout because I can afford it and I like to support websites I want to stay active. I'm actually even more willing to spend that money on Tumblr.

7,753 notes - Posted February 24, 2022

#4

okay I know the popular conception of stede and lucius' relationship is a father/son thing but like, okay, I get it, and I'm here for it, but I also don't get that vibe at all.

like, I don't think lucius admires/looks up to stede in a parental way. he likes stede, he's supportive of stede, but personally I wouldn't call my dad a bizarre little man or ask him how his breakup is going. like, that's way too informal. that's more a relationship of equals than anything else.

nope. I think their relationship is actually elder gay/baby gay (in the sense of experience rather than chronological age). lucius has been out for years, he has a lot of experience in relationships, he is way more able to read relationships (e.g. knowing that ed and stede are flirting before they even realize they're flirting), and because of that he is extremely well equipped to give advice about navigating queerness.

stede, on the other hand, has just barely started to dip his toes in the gay pool. like regardless if you go with the theory that stede didn't even realize he was gay until he met ed or that he knew for years but couldn't acknowledge it openly until he met ed, stede has zero practical experience. he is, in his forties, experiencing a bunch of "firsts" that lucius probably did in his teens or early twenties. the entire emotional landscape is foreign to him (and I was going to make a joke about how pirating is also foreign to him but then I started thinking about how piracy in this show is a metaphor for queerness and that's a whole second essay)

basically I think lucius spent the first however-many weeks on board the revenge being like "oh my god this guy is a naive idiot but at least he's paying me," and then he heard nigel badminton joking about how he used to bully stede in school and his gaydar went off like mad, and at that moment his attitude changed to "someone needs to protect this naive gay idiot and that person is me" and that's where it is for the rest of the season.

9,160 notes - Posted April 14, 2022

#3

the best part is they politely gave alex jones’s lawyer the opportunity to fix their mistake and they DIDN’T DO IT. smh shaking my head

TEN DAYS. THEY HAD TEN FUCKING DAYS. AND THEY DIDN'T DO SHIT. AND THEN THEY HAD A CHANCE TO LOOK AT THE TEXTS AND OBJECT BEFORE THEY WERE ENTERED INTO EVIDENCE AND THEY DIDN'T. the unmitigated GLEE in bankston's voice when he's like "and as of two days ago, it fell free and clear into my possession, and that is how I know you LIED TO ME" is just fucking awe-inspiring. i love this man.

9,412 notes - Posted August 3, 2022

#2

i feel like every activist should read about fruitlands.

fruitlands was a transcendentalist utopian commune founded in the 1840s. the founders (including louisa may alcott's dad) thought that the existing capitalist economy was evil: alcott described it as a tree “whose root is selfishness, whose trunk is property, whose fruit is gold." so they decided to create a commune that was completely divorced from the economy. like, their response to the "you say you're against capitalism but still participate in it! checkmate socialists!" people was literally "you're right, let's not!"

they refused to consume any materials or foods that couldn't be locally grown, like tea or sugar. they were also highkey vegan: not only was it immoral to eat animal products and use animals for leather and wool, but using animal labor or even using manure as fertilizer was forbidden. and they refused to trade for anything they didn't have within the commune because participation in an oppressive economy was bad, especially if it supported slave labor (ex: wearing cotton fabric).

it fell apart in less than a year because they didn't have enough food to survive the winter.

why?

well, part of it was circumstantial: the site they picked had little arable land and they arrived a month behind in the planting schedule. part of it was the impracticality of living in the 1840s and being so vegan that they couldn't even use oxen to plough their fields or wear clothes that were warm in cold weather.

but the main reason was that the men of the commune (and they were almost all men, except for alcott's wife and another woman, ann page) didn't actually, like, do anything. they left all the household chores and childcare to the women, plus most of the farm work, while they sat around and philosophized about how cool their utopia was. even before it fell apart, most people there had began taking "vacations" away from fruitlands so that they could take hot baths and avoid trying to till the soil with their bare hands.

there are a lot of good lessons here.

1. it's very easy to talk about your great ideas for society but putting them into practice is much harder. you have to actually do the work to achieve the goal: you can't shunt it off onto other people based on the same oppressive systems you're trying to subvert.

2. you need to consider the practical implications of what you're arguing for, including potential downsides. banning wool for ethical reasons is all well and good until you're stuck wearing linen clothes and canvas shoes in the middle of a massachusetts winter.

3. you can't expect that a utopia is going to be all the things you like about society staying the same and everything you dislike being changed. that is at best naïve and at worst intensely selfish.

tl;dr: talk is cheap, praxis is hard.

20,261 notes - Posted January 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

I already knew a lot of criticisms about cryptocurrency and NFTs but HOLY SHIT Dan Olson just spent two hours very carefully and viciously picking apart every single aspect of the entire operation and explaining exactly why it's capitalism at its worst and is basically a perfect scam machine

23,874 notes - Posted January 21, 2022

Get your Tumblr 2022 Year in Review →

#tumblr2022 #year in review #my 2022 tumblr year in review #your tumblr year in review #Youtube

[savemesomenachos]

Hii I know you're doing the 200 followers drabbles right now so congrats on that 😊😊 but when ever you get the time I would love to see some Sebastian stan x reader where the reader is playing with his beard and she loves when he rubs it over her neck and he's lying on her chest and it eventually turns to beard burn between her thighs 😉😏

Because we all have a beard kink for this man 😩

Thank you. It doesn't have to be during your drabbles but whenever you get the time 😁

Thank you so much for this request!!! My vagina just spontaneously combusted-

Cry Baby

AN: I think I suck at writing smut but here it is anyway😬

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x Female! Reader

Warnings: Smut – Beard burn, oral – f receiving,

Word Count: 839 (forgive the smolness)

18+, Minors DNI

Y/n’s POV:

The sunlight streaming in from the window of our bedroom tickles my eyelids and with a groan, I roll over and cuddle further into the warm chest next to me. A deep chuckle reverberates in my ear, and it sends a pleasant shiver down my spine. He nuzzles his bearded layered cheeks against my own and further down in my neck. I giggle and lean closer to him while wrapping my arms around his neck and pulling him impossibly closer.

“Good morning,” he rasps as his arms snake around my waist. A moan escapes my lips as his beard scratches against my cheek and neck. Wordlessly, I pull him closer, so he lies on top of me and his face rests right on my chest while his lips meet my neck.

“Having fun there?” I ask, muffling my laughter in his incredibly soft hair.

“Lots of fun,” he whispers against my skin while continuing to pepper kisses on my neck and working his way down to the top of my breasts.

“Seb,” I whisper, a whimper bubbling up in my throat. “What are you doing?”

“I’m just lovin’ on my girl,” he says, sliding the sheets of my bare body while continuing to kiss every inch of stripped skin.

“It’s so early,” I whine as his beard scratches against my stomach and my back arches off the bed.

“Are you complaining? I can stop if you want,” he smirks as he pulls away almost completely and rests his head in the palm of his hand, staring down at me with a knowing look in his eyes.

“No!” I almost scream. “Don’t.”

His smirk widens and he continues descending my body leaving occasional kisses to tease me.

“Seb, please!” I beg, his arm thrown over my waist, pinning my hips to the mattress below.

“I haven’t even touched you properly yet baby,” he whispers, kissing my hip bone.

I whine and my hands reach forward to tangle in his hair and pull him closer to my centre. He chuckles at my impatience but complies, nonetheless. His lips mouth at my lace covered centre and my fingers involuntarily tighten in his hair and he moans against my clit. The vibrations send a jolt through my body, and he takes that as his cue to slip my panties down my legs with a teasing finger. His lips follow the trail all the way down to my ankle and after he tosses the underwear aside, he works his way up while leaving marks all over my thighs. I whimper as his tongue licks a long stripe across my folds. His lips move further up and attach themselves to my clit. A long, drawn-out moan leaves my lips, and he chuckles darkly.

“Please,” I pant, stroking his cheek lovingly, my eyes begging.

“Aww, I love seeing you beg honey,” he giggles. He fucking giggles and I groan in frustration.

He parts my legs wider and settles comfortably between my thighs as he swipes two of his fingers against my dripping slit. A moan gets caught in my throat as he enters two of his soaked fingers into my drenched pussy and curls them just right. His lips find their way to my clit again and suck while his fingers start to gain momentum. His eyes meet mine and I see the black completely engulf the blue of his irises. I shiver at the intensity of his gaze while my body tries to lift off the bed. His arm keeps me pinned and a warning glare has me on my back again, trying not to squirm. His fingers start to move at a punishing pace while his lips begin to suck harder, and his eyes never stray from mine. My eyes begin to roll to the back of my head with the speed his fingers are going at and suddenly, wave after wave of pleasure washes over me and my body convulses. One of my hands fist his hair while the other clutch the sheets and my thighs tighten around his shoulders.

As I come down from the high, I feel a pleasant burn between my thighs, and I lean up on my elbows as my fingers meet the redness covering my thighs.

“Oh my god, I think that’s from my beard,” Sebastian says, his eyes blown wide open and his fingers grazing the redness which my leg tremble. “Honey, I’m so sorry. I had no idea this would happen and-”

“Babe,” I say, wrapping a hand around his neck and pulling him up to my face and burrowing my face in his neck. “I liked it,” I whisper in his ear to which he pulls back to look into my eyes.

“Yeah?” he asks, a wicked smirk on his lips, his hands rubbing the outside of my thighs.

“Yeah,” I whisper flustered at my bold admission.

“Again?” he asks, already slipping back down my torso, his beard scuffing my breasts and my stomach.

“Definitely,” I whisper, throwing my head back, unsatisfied in the least.

TAGLIST:-

Permanent: @julyvegan @tenaciousperfectionunknown @mysweetlittledesire @bbl32 @noshame-bb @cece5 @white-wolf1940 @marvelfansworld @jassiejj2118 @christowhore @sia2raw @amelia-song-pond @lovewolfspirit @iwannabekilledtwice @mollyscoffee @sohoseb @thetattletaleheart @thesparklynavillera @waywardwifey @the-lonely-poet-loves-to-weep @honeymarvel@hart-failure @Clints-worldavengers

*if your username is in italics and with a strikethrough, it means I couldn’t tag you for some reason*

If you wanna be tagged in my works, lemme know here

You can find my other works on my Main Masterlist.

#sebastian stan fanfiction #seb stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan fic #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian imagine #sebastian stan #sebastian stan x reader #sebastian stan smut #smut prompts #bucky barnes smut #smut requests #smut #bucky barnes x reader #buckyreader #bucky barnes x you #bucky barnes #bucky imagine #anon #anonymous asks #anonymous #anon request #savemesomenachos asks #fic asks #writing asks #asks and replies #asks open #answered asks #send me asks

[notepadsandtealeaves]

K. Bokuto || Say My Name A Thot’s Thoughts 💦

MINORS/AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT || 18+ ONLY ||

|| ao3 version | hq tag | m.lists | main blog ||

↠ Requested By: This damned thirst dream that won’t leave me be until I write it out ↠ Reader Gender: Neutral ↠ Content Type: So very NSFW ((*whacks minors on the nose with a rolled up newspaper* No! Not for you!!)) ↠ Chronology: Post time skip. ↠ CWs/TWs: Any applicable warnings can be found in the tag list under the cut. ↠ Betas? Lmaoooooo… ↠ Total WC: 2.3k~

“I know you know it, sweetheart—so say it. Say my fucking name, right the fuck now.”

He’ll get what he wants—even if he has to fuck it out of you…

I want this man to snap my spine like a gd glow stick. That’s it, that’s the tweet.

((p*rn with v. little plot ahead, in case you somehow couldn’t figure that out lol))

💦 Tags: Reader uses they/them pronouns (tho I don’t think Reader’s pronouns actually come up in this? dk how I managed that *shrugs*) | Reader has ambiguous anatomy | Penetrative sex (missionary that turns into a mating press, Reader receiving) | Rough-ish sex (some grabbing of the face, and like he’s really laying into you, but it doesn’t get too heavy) | ((so maybe it’s more ‘hard’ than ‘rough’?? idk, I’ll let you lot decide)) | ((also, Bo’s a lil bit feral in this one, ngl)) | Some dom/sub undertones | ((my subby ass is predictable as hell, so are you even surprised at this point?? lmao)) | A smattering of ✨ ~Size kink~ ✨️ | ((Bo’s a big, big boy with a big, BIG dick, but I digress)) | Use of petnames (pretty baby, sweetheart, that kinda beat) | Also Bo’s got a bit of voice kink—who saw that one coming?? | ((me, I did, because I just made it a thing lol)) | Unprotected Sex because is fic, and is hot in fic. Don’t the thing irl unless you take proper precautions and discuss it with your partner well beforehand, mmkay? Mmkay… | Also what probably amounts to an unrealistic amount of cum, but look—I’ve got my kinks, okay? Lmao | Also, also—potentially OOC Bokuto if you canon him to be soft ‘n’ sweet in bed. He can be, and is a good portion of the time, but like… sometimes he just wants to bully you a bit while he fucks you into the mattress, yanno? | Also, also, also—unintentional cockwarming | Sappy ending because OP is a giant bb that just wants to be loved

“Bo-Bokuto, gods, please,” you damn near sob, the pleasure coursing through the whole of your body setting your hands to feebly grasping at the sheets, your face, and anything else you can reach in an attempt to ground yourself.

For his part the man above you is distinctly unamused, though for the life of you, you cannot figure out why that is–

“That’s not my name, baby. Not when I’m taking you like this.”

Oh. That.

In all honesty, you don’t think anyone can blame you for the slip up—after all, the pair of you were little more than acquaintances just a week ago. Sure, you’d been keeping up a line of friendly banter on those not-so-rare occasions when he decided to grace your little deli with his presence, and yeah you could reliably call him a regular at this point, but still you’d hardly been expecting him to ask you out when he bounded through the door last Friday. What’s more you didn’t think that your very first date would go so well that he would be taking you on another just a few days later, and finally a third one two days after that. To say that the pair of you are speed running your relationship is an understatement, and yet somehow things don’t feel rushed in the slightest.

This is more than likely due to what you’ve now dubbed the ‘Bokuto Effect’.

Said effect seems to lend an air of stability to actions that would otherwise leave you recoiling. And how can it not when he’s just so… him. Kind and sweet, caring and compassionate… You may not have known him for long, but you’re thoroughly convinced that there’s not a malicious bone in this man’s body. This is why you allowed him to follow you up to your apartment tonight, despite it having been technically less than a week of your being together—gods, are you even together? You have no idea as you’ve yet to actually talk about anything even remotely close to that, much less bothered about putting a label on it. There’s no time to consider something that ultimately feels tangential when you’re in the middle of falling at a breakneck speed.

(You can only hope that he feels the same, this quickening that has you casting aside a lifetime’s worth sensibility and letting him in like this. It’s hard to tell when he’s always smiling, always laughing, always keeping it light and bubbly and wonderful…)

In the now Bokuto—no, Koutaro—parts his lips around a particularly vicious looking grin. “I know you know it, sweetheart—so say it. Say my fucking name, right the fuck now.”

You try, you swear you do, but when he’s drilling so deeply into you, his thick head scraping against that one spot with every drag of his thick cock… words become understandably difficult. You slur out something with roughly the same composition as the appellation (you think) but valiant though they are, your efforts are not enough to appease him. The sound of his laugh paired with the glint in his eyes has you shivering underneath him. Who knew he could wear ‘cocky bastard’ so well?

“Aww, listen to you,” he coos, condescension dripping from every syllable. “Cock drunk already, baby? Can’t say my name because you can’t remember it, huh? Well lemme help you out.”

Suddenly the legs that had been tossed over his broad (so, so damn broad—fuck) shoulders are being pushed up against your chest with the whole of his impressive weight following closely behind. Your resulting scream is loud enough that you’re sure to get a noise complain or several, and maybe even a visit from the cops if your neighbors confuse your bliss for a legitimate cry for help. But those are all distant worries, things that cannot find a permanent home in a mind that is far too clouded with lust and a resounding chant of more-more-MORE.

You claw at his back as he bottoms out over and over again, marking territory that you’re not entirely sure is yours to claim; the sounds that are pouring out of you all the while would be mortifying, you’re sure, if you weren’t so lost in the sex fog. For his part, the man above you is just as vocal, with a series of hisses, groans, and chuckles falling past his lips as he works at dismantling you, piece by needy piece. It seems to take him a few moments to remember his original goal—or maybe it’s more so a case of an artist admiring his work—but once he does…

“Kou- “-tar- “-o.”

He fucks the syllables into you, growling them directly in your face each time his hips come to press flush against the plush of your ass and thighs. He repeats it again and then a third time before he palms the bottom half of your face. That he can cover such an impressive area with just one hand should probably unnerve you, but as it stands the size disparity only makes you hotter. You moan into his grasp only to have the sound scale up into a squeak when he smooshes your cheeks inwards with a flex of his fingers. The movement sees your lips jutting and puckering in what you’re sure has to be an extremely unflattering matter, but if he minds the view he doesn’t show it.

“Come on, pretty baby,” he starts, voice surprisingly even (or maybe not, given his job’s stamina requirements), “I know you’re feelin’ good, but that doesn’t excuse your bad behavior. Now say it with me—Kou-tar-o.”

“Kou- Kou—ahh~! Fuck, so good–”

He tuts at that, his grip going that tiny bit tighter. “Focus, baby. Kou-”

“Kou-” you repeat, the breathy quality of your voice reducing the sound to little more than a pant.

“-tar-”

“-tar-”

“-o.”

“-oo-ooo shit!”

When you feel the first brush of his fingers against your sex the only thing that keeps you from vaulting straight off of the bed is the sheer size of him. You’d been so focused on getting things right (on giving him what he wants) that you hadn’t noticed his free hand moving to what little space there is to be found between you. Years of honing his craft has left the thing roughened with thick callouses; they had felt a bit odd against your own smoother palm when he’d held your hand earlier in the day, but feeling them now… The scrape is addicting, adding an extra delicious layer to the pleasure of him working over your core with a precision that shouldn’t be possible as this is the first time you’ve been together like this–

Just yet another result of the Bokuto Effect, you suppose.

Koutaro kisses you deeply then, greedily filling up his lungs with your moans even as he empties out your own. When he breaks away with a growled pant some long seconds later he’s all wide, wild eyes and pouring praise.

“That’s good, baby—fuck, it sounds so good when you say it like that. K-keep doin’ that f’me, yeah? Keep screaming my name and I promise I’ll make you feel so, so good– Gods, you’re so good…”

And he’s as good as his word.

Every utterance of his name sees him taking you harder, impossibly deeper, and faster. It’s a loop of pleasure that is all too easy to fall into; your whimpering cries giving him what he wants as his rolling hips work hard to give you what you need. Sweat darkens the lighter strands of his hair at the base turning the pale silver into something more akin to slate, with the salty liquid occasionally breaking past his hairline to slide down the chiseled contours of his face. Knowing that he—a professional athlete who is in near godly shape—is fucking you hard enough to actually break a sweat is a heady thing, one that draws you yet closer to your end.

With your orgasm so close at hand your brain’s higher functions all but cease. All there is in this moment is you and him and the one word that is left to you: Koutaro.

“Sound so pretty,” he tells you before pressing a quick kiss to your mumbling lips. “Gods, babe, I’m close—so damn close, I– ah-ah-ah shit!” A particularly decadent roll of his hips nearly sees you both shaking apart right then and there, but he pulls back some—just a bit, just enough to draw things out a little longer.

“‘M close,” you tell him a short while later, your declaration sounding more like a lament than anything. You don’t want this to end, but at the same time you need it to if only for your poor battered hole’s sake. “Fuck, Kou, please…”

He softens a bit at that, those molten pools of gold syruping with something tender as he takes in your fucked out expression. “I got you, baby, I promise—you cum when you need to, ‘kay? Do it and I’ll be right there with you…”

This touch of gentleness is well at odds with the way he continues to take your body through its paces, and that dichotomy is the very thing that finally drives you over the edge. You manage to eke out his name one final time, and the choked cry is enough to see him falling into bliss with you. His hips stutter compulsively as rope after hot, thick rope of cum shoots into you. You can feel it squelching out of you every time he pulls back, the liquid gliding warm and viscous over your skin to drip down and pool underneath you in a small puddle that’s only going to get bigger when he pulls out—if he pulls out. It certainly doesn’t seems as if he plans to anytime soon, not with the way he’s kissing you all over your face and neck, the ministrations cut through with praise and little love-drunk giggles.

Once he’s come back to himself, Koutaro flips you both over so that you’re resting against his chest—single-handedly, a thing that’s way hotter than such a simple action should be—with his softened cock still tucked snugly inside of you. You can tell the exact moment his skin makes contact with the cooling wet spot because he yelps before jerking you both over to the left. You’re just as love-drunk as he is apparently because you cannot stop giggling all the while, giddy at the return of the silly antics that had drawn you to him in the first place (not that you mind seeing this other, darker, more mature version of him at all).

He tilts your head up towards him for a short, sweet kiss before asking, “What ya laughing at, pretty?”

“You.”

“Wow, rude.”

“Whatever, you like it,” you tease as you prop yourself up against his chest.

“I mean… yeah,” he concedes with a laugh, “but only because it’s you.”

There’s a tenderness to his gaze that turns the simple phrase into an admission and you find yourself ducking your head in an attempt to conceal just how flustered it’s left you. Suddenly the scar underneath his right pec is the most interesting thing in the world, and you find yourself lightly tracing over it as you mutter out a quiet, “Oh really?”

“Mmhmm.” As the onomatopoeic sound vibrates through his chest and up into you it somehow manages to carry far more truth than something more elegant could ever hope to—because it’s real, because it’s him.

“I like you a whole helluva lot, ____,” he continues on, “and if I’m being completely honest I’m really hoping that I didn’t screw things up.”

That’s enough to get you to look up again, and Koutaro takes in your confused look with a sheepish expression of his own. “Yanno, with all of this.” He gestures vaguely over the length of your still naked bodies. “I, um… I have a tendency to go full tilt when it’s something I want, but that’s not always the move when it comes to relationships—or am I presuming too much in calling what we’ve got a ‘relationship’? I don’t think I am, not with the way you’re smiling, but…”

You swat at his chest and earn another heart stopping kiss for your troubles. The man—your man?—underneath you gives you his signature megawatt grin, though it fades into something softer and more intimate as he regards you.

“I think you’ve already given me your answer, but just to make sure—can I call you mine?”

You trail your fingers over the expanse of his well-defined jawline before cradling his cheek in your palm as you tell him, “Only if I can call you mine, too.”

He huffs out a laugh as he nods a bit before nuzzling into your hand. “Yeah, definitely.”

“Good.”

“Great,” he amends.

“Fantastic, even.”

“Stupendous.”

“Amazing.”

“Wonderful…”

The pair of you carry on like that for a good while, exhausting your vocabularies and arguing over synonyms in between laughter and sweet kisses until rumbling stomachs demand their due.

|| Bonus

Imagine sitting in Bo’s lap while he feeds you your snack of choice. You’re both still nude because why the fuck not, tho he has opted to get you a nice, soft blanket to burrito in. So anyways, he feeding you while you guys are watching something on the television, and he finds said something v. interesting—so interesting, in fact, that the next morsel he feeds you gets shoved damn near into the back of your throat.

Cue him laughing out an apology for gagging you—“I didn’t do it on purpose, baby, I swear!”—and kissing away the compulsory tears that are streaming down your cheeks from nearly having your life ended by a set of ridiculously long fingers and a fucking Dorito or whatever the fuck he was feeding you lmfao…

© notepadsandtealeaves, 2021 || Please do not repost, translate, or otherwise alter or distribute my works without my express permission. And for the love of god keep it away from Youtube and TikTok lol…

#back at it again with the thirst lmao #anyways... #((Immy does fan fiction: The Volleybaes)) #((💦 posts)) #bokuto x reader #bokuto x gn!reader #bokuto x gender neutral reader #bokuto x you #bokuto x y/n #bokuto smut #bokuto imagine #bokuto scenario #haikyuu bokuto #haikyuu smut

[wiypt-writes]

Consciousness Of Guilt

Chapter 14

Summary: Andy takes you out on a date as the pair of you celebrate some good news, which is a welcome break amidst all the stress and angst of recent months.

Warnings: Language, adult themes, angst. SMUT (NWSF, 18+)

Disclaimer: This is a pure work of fiction and classified as 18+. Please respect this and do not read if you are underage. I do not own any characters in this series bar the reader and any other OCs. By reading beyond this point you understand and accept the terms of this disclaimer.

W/C: 7.5k

Consciousness Of Guilt Masterlist // Main Masterlist

Chapter 13

The rest of the summer bled into the start of September and the leaves in Colorado began to change. Bold hues of autumn covered the trees and hillsides. The stress of your situation had begun taking its toll on you but Andy never let you live in the grey area for long. The two of you seemed more connected than ever before and he made sure you ended each night with a soft smile and warm heart. Your nightmares continued but weren't nightly, affording you both nights of rest and as the days moved on, he kept nothing from you. No secrets, no going back to the past.

You hadn’t heard further from the Drysdales. Andy was hopeful that now their main witness was dead, they’d back off. But he wasn’t leaving anything to chance; Blanc was, therefore, still digging for leverage just in case. As of yet, the PI hadn’t turned anything up, and Andy assured you that as soon as he knew anything he would let you know. And you trusted him to do so. In fact, things had been so quiet on that front, and with an air of ease that Andy had deemed tonight, this Friday night, to be date night. Work had kept him late a fair amount over the past few weeks, and you had also been buy with a special project Eva had. This meant the two of you were falling into bed tired and over worked. But not tonight. Andy had told Ron he was unavailable from three in the afternoon specifically so he could leave on time. He told you to enjoy a hot bath, get dressed up and be ready for a romantic dinner and night dedicated purely to you. It felt a little strange, to even be considering something so ‘normal’ after what had happened over the last few weeks but Andy was adamant your lives were not to be put on hold because of something that may or may not happen. So you humoured him. You left work on time, pouring yourself a glass of wine and giving yourself time to enjoy a hot bath. After, wrapped in your silk robe, you sorted through your closet for something to wear.

Andy barrelled through the door just as you were putting on your make up. You heard him taking the stairs two at a time, but instead of cursing and looking angry when he appeared in your bedroom at being later than he wanted to be, he was bursting with excitement. “They’re making me partner.” He blurted out before you had chance to ask him what was going on.

“What?!” “That’s why I’m so late.” He ran his hand through his hair, “Ron pulled me into a meeting with him and Anthony Thorn, and they said that it had to go to a final vote with the rest of the board but asked me if I was interested and…” he trailed off, “I can’t quite believe it!” "Oh my God, Andy!" You leapt into his arms. "I'm so proud of you!" Andy's arms wrapped tightly around you as his face was buried into your neck, "I... I've never been a partner." He mumbled against your skin. "And you made it quickly!" You beamed. "Now we definitely have something to celebrate tonight!" “I mean, I know I couldn’t ever have been a partner in the DAs office, not how it works but… fuck, Angel, my names is gonna be on the limited legal partnership.” "I know, BB!" You grinned with exuberance before you pressed your lips to his. “So are they gonna change the company’s name?” “It will still trade overall as King Thorne, but it will be King, Thorne and Barber LLP on the tag line for all the documentation!” “So your name is still gonna be on the logo?!” “Yup.” He popped the P, giving you a goofy grin. “And it means I get a big, fat pay rise. Not that that matters but, I won’t sniff at the extra ten thou on my yearly account.” "Oh Andy," you grinned tearfully. "I'm so, so proud of you." “Is it big headed to say I’m a little proud of myself?” He grinned. “Absolutely not.” “In that case, I'm a little proud of myself!” He licked his lips, before he stepped back and looked you up and down. “And I’m also very late so let me grab a shower and I’ll be ready in ten.” "I'll be dressed when you're done." You winked and helped him undo his tie. “Or we could show up really late instead of just fashionably.” His hands found your hips and you laughed. "We could," you giggled, "but I am kinda hungry." Andy groaned, “me too. I haven’t had a thing since breakfast.” "Same." You shrugged. With a hearty chuckle and peck to your lips, Andy winked, "ten minutes." As he slipped away, you looked at the simple, deep blue dress you plucked from your closet on the bed. Maybe the night called for something special too. You pulled a sweetly romantic nude underwear set from your drawer and slipped the bra and panties on before pulling your dress up over your hips and slipping your arms through the shoulders. Giving yourself a once over in the full body mirror you smiled approvingly as the material sat over your frame. It was soft and flowy, hugging the appropriate areas and added a little body to the draped skirt. The door to your bathroom opened among the steam pouring out and Andy stepped out, his hips covered by a white towel. His skin was damp and flushed from the hot water, his hair messy and waiting to be styled. His tattoos glistened with flecks of water, and that medallion sat perfectly among his built chest. “You look beautiful.” He smiled as he crossed towards you, pressing a kiss to your cheek. “Get off, you’ll ruin my make up!” You jokingly protested as his wet beard rubbed against your skin. "You won't be saying that later," he teased. “It won’t matter later.” You shot back "Five minutes, Angel," he winked, slinking back into the bathroom for access to the closet. You followed, pulling your nude heels from your half of the closet and fingers in the heels, you carried them out of the humid bathroom. In no time, as promised, Andy was dressed in a fresh pair of slacks and a button down hanging loosely over his white tee. "No tie tonight, please," you commented, slipping into your shoes before heading downstairs. “No tie, you got it.” Andy grinned. True to his word, four minutes and ten seconds later, Andy bounded down the stairs and strolled into the living room, tie absent. He moved right to the coat closet by the back door and the garage, only to return with his wool coat and your own. “Thank you.” You smiled as he held it open for you to slip into.  The Uber ride passed almost totally in silence, comfortable, but both of you happily glowing as the news of Andy's promotion settled in over you. The driver took you about twenty minutes away from town and stopped at one of the local, nicer lodges near the base of the mountains. Andy stepped out and opened your door, taking your hand in his. Together, the two of you headed up the stairs and inside, making your way towards the restaurant. The pair of you were offered seats at the bar whilst you perused menus waiting for your table. "You know, technically you are my boss now. So... Does that mean we have to break up?" You joked. “Actually I’m your boss’ boss’ boss.” You flicked your eyebrows and smirked against the rim of your glass. "So, is that a yes or a no?" "That's a hell no," Andy replied swiftly. "You can't get rid of me that easily." You laughed. “But seriously, isn’t it a huge conflict of interest?” "No. Because we were already together before I made partner and, since we have Ron's blessing so to speak, it's a moot point. Besides, Angel, you're stuck with me. No matter what." Andy leaned across the space between you two and gave you a sultry kiss. As he pulled away you bit your lip, a smile crossing your face. “I love you.” "I love you, too." "Mr and Mrs Barber, your table is ready," the host said when he approached you. “Oh, we’re not-“ you began but Andy cut you off. “Thanks.” He smiled as he rose from his seat, offering you his hand. "Mrs Barber...." "Stop it," you hushed him and rolled your eyes. “That bad an idea?” He teased. You stopped for a second, "well..." you stammered, "no." You bit your lip as Andy pulled your chair out for you. “Good to know,” he kissed your cheek as you sat down. He sat across from you, a childlike hint of mischief and humor to his face. It was a beautiful sight to see considering all the frowning and tired eyes the two of you had shared recently. “Don’t worry I’m not gonna whip a ring outta my pocket.” You winked at him, not sure what to say but the idea of Mrs Barber was now inked into your mind as a thought. You sighed and opened your menu, glancing again to make the final decision on your meal as you heard Andy order a bottle of champagne, 'to celebrate' he said. “Celebrate you making partner, right? Not our seeming marriage?” "Yes, Angel, me making partner, and you being one of the best things to ever happen in my life," Andy smiled, extending his hand across the table for yours. You smiled as you placed your hand in his and his thumb gently stroked your knuckles. “You’re the best thing that’s ever happened in mine, no contest.” A warm smile spread over his face, "I love you." "I love you too," you replied. "I haven't been this... Happy and fulfilled in a long fahking time," Andy said, his accent appearing. "Hopefully we keep it that way," you shrugged. "I know it's not been ideal lately and I know for a fact we can't always have our best days every day, it's stupid to think that and not to mention selfish. But I look forward to each day as we get it. I never used to. Not when...." "Angel," his tone was a soft warning. “I know, I’m sorry.” "Don't be, we just have to keep going. It's going to be alright." You nodded just as your waiter returned, Andy's hand slipping from yours to cheer your good fortune and the two of you placed your orders for dinner. Mid-way through your meal and down an entire bottle of champagne, you couldn't help yourself and asked Andy, "have you heard from anyone in Boston?" “No.” He shook his head. “I’d have told you if I had, I promise.” "Just curios is all." “When I do you’ll be the first to know, now stahp. No more.” "Okay," you bent your head and eyed your plate, embarrassed to have even asked and maybe lessen the mood a bit. "You up for dessert, Angel?" “I could eat tiramisu.” You smiled.  Andy ordered your desired treat and an after dinner cognac for himself. “Andy?” You placed your spoon down and looked at him. "Hmmm?" “Do you think we could get a bottle of champagne to take home?” A glimmer of something crossed his eyes and he smirked, "absolutely, baby." The bottle ordered to go and the bill paid, the valet hailed your Uber down and as the sedan whisked you and Andy home, his hand held yours once again, the bottled necked in his other fist. Once you were home you kicked off your shoes and Andy set the bottle on the side in the kitchen before he took your coat to hang up again. You padded to the glass cupboard looking for two flutes for the still chilled champagne. You expertly popped the cork and poured two helpings, settling yourself at the breakfast bar area. Your neatly manicured nails tapped on the granite bar as Andy took his flute and again toasted to you, the love of his new life.  "No, no, I'm afraid this is your night, Mr Baber, partner at King, Thorne and Barber LLP." You smirked, with a wink, emphasizing the 'and'. A boyish grin spread across his face as he took a sip and let out a sigh. “You know, before I joined the DAs office, this was all I ever wanted.” “So what made you go into prosecution then?” You asked curiously. “Honestly? Laurie.” He shrugged, “I took the bar exam and then I had a few years where I had a couple of positions in and around firms, gaining experience but I couldn’t quite muscle my way in. It was so competitive. In the end, prosecution was a stable alternative. And with a family to support, I took it.” You nod in understanding. "Life circumstances pushes us to sometimes leave dreams behind for the easier, more convenient road." “What about you? Was it always journalism?” You wrinkled your nose, “I actually wanted to be a writer. But…” your finger traced round the edge of your glass, “kinda like you, didn’t pay the bills or my student loan fees.” "So why PR? Angel, you can do whatever you want, you don't have to work, you've got the front to be stable and publish your own dime." Andy's words came out passionately for you to follow your dream. "Well, because it's not really my money. It's why I work. I used what I wanted to set up my life here and the rest, sits, collecting interest, really only touched if I feel the need. But.... to be honest that money absolutely disgusts me."

Andy took a deep breath, “well use it for something, stick the finger up at the bastard whilst he’s six foot under.” “Well, I was…” you bit your lip, “actually forget it, it doesn’t matter.” "Tell me," he whispered, plucking your glass from your hand and taking both of yours in his. “I thought about giving it away. To a foundation or a trust, for victims of domestic or sexual violence.” "I think that’s a brilliant idea." He supported you, even the glint of pride in his eyes told you so. “Maybe, but then I had an idea about going one further and starting my own place. Like a refuge type thing, where people can go if they need a safe place to stay. There’s not many around, and the ones that there are, often get so crowded or are in shitty areas, and there’s really so few that can take kids as well, you know, if there’s more than just the adult involved.” “So do it.” Andy looked at you, “there’s nothing stopping you.” You shrugged, "I just don't want the questions of why, you know? Why are you doing it? What made you want to do it? Nothing in my background publicly resembles any need to support that.” “Why do you need a reason why, other than the fact you’re a decent human being?” Andy asked. “I just know people would ask questions.” “Well, there’s always cases at work that you could tell people has influenced you.” “And then there's my parents, my sister. They don't know anything remotely close to what you know, Andy. It would crush my dad." "Look at me," Andy ceased your rambling. "When this is all over, we're going to do just that. Wherever you want. Here, Boston... Wherever. We'll do it." You bit your lip and Andy shrugged, “I got enough in my background to answer any questions. My mom turned to one of those places when Billy was arrested. We ended up with nothing. Took her six months before she was on her feet.”

You blinked. “I never knew that.” “Not many people do.” He took a deep breath. "She must have been an incredible woman. Strong, resilient." “She was. You remind me of her, in that respect. Which is why, if you’re serious, I think we should go for it. I got plenty of contacts, and we can partner with the firm too, local authorities…” "One thing at a time, huh," you spoke quietly. "Settle you in as partner, my work load is going to be huge now come Monday. All the changes," you rolled your eyes, smiling a little as you did so. "Then maybe after we finish this fisaco I've put us both in, we talk about it." Andy sighed, as you untangled your right hand from his and took a sip of your champagne, “you haven’t put us in any fiasco. And as for the rest of it, it’ll work out. Stop worrying about what might go wrong and concentrate on what could go right.” "Your faith in me is astounding," you chortle. "I have nothing but..." Andy smiled softly, the bristles of his beard twitching at the corners of his lips. "I want you to have everything you want," then he rolled his eyes a little, "within natural reason." He chuckled softly. "Well, Counselor," you slipped your left hand from his and wrapped both yours around his neck, your nails scratching at his hairline. "I want the same for you, and after tonight's good news, you're right on track. So," you pecked him softly as his hands held your waist, "what's next?" “Do you want a verbal explanation or should I skip straight to the demonstration?” "I'm a visual type of person," you said with a flick of your brows. “That so?” "Mmhmm, tonight, I am." “Well,” Andy leaned forward, one foot resting on the bar of the stool, the other leg stretching out to the side, “how’s this for a visual? First I’m gonna take your dress off, then I’m gonna work you up so badly you’re gonna be begging me not to stop, and then I’m gonna have you crying my name so loudly the neighbours will be knocking on the door asking if you’re okay.” Your chest hitched with the ragged breath you took, "o...okay." Andy frowned a little at your tone and then shook his head. “Or, not… I mean…” “No, I mean yes…I-“ "Tell me, Angel." "I want you to.” “You sure?” Your eyes stared into his, a bit of confidence and flare to them, "yes." Andy seemed to consider you for a moment, before his hands reached up and pried both of yours free from his neck. He rose to his feet, gently tugging you to yours. Two large palms cupped your face as those beautiful blue eyes you loved so much searched your own, seemingly for any shred of doubt you were hiding. When he found none, his lips were on yours, the small of your back hitting the edge of the breakfast bar as he kissed you, pressing you into the granite. Your fingers were at his belt, undoing it with a light clink and pulling his dress shirt from the waist of his slacks. His tongue swiped dominantly, yet carefully against your own, the sweet yet crisp notes of the champagne still present in his mouth, mingling with the taste of him. It was a heady mix, enough to make your head swim with desire and lust and you let out a soft groan of delight as his hands moved to locate the back of your dress. Smirky bastard he was, his lips twitched against yours as he found the zip and pulled it down, loosening your dress while your own fingers searched for his own button and zip to his slacks. “Ah ah,” he shook his head, “I said I was getting you out of your dress. I don’t remember saying anything about losing my pants, Angel.” You whimpered at the authority in his tone and dropped your hands from his flies. His hands reached up and long fingers slid along the neckline of your dress, pushing the sleeves down your arms. He exposed that lace nude bra you'd slipped on while he was in the shower, the blue material of your dress catching at your hips. His eyes lingered on the lace trim around the cups before they looked back at your own, his brow quirked a little. “New?” "Yeah," you nodded quickly. He beamed and you knew why. Thanks to Ransom, buying underwear had become a monumental task for you, constantly still evaluating everything in your head. But this, this purchase and subtle display for your boyfriend was growth at its finest and Andy seemed proud of you to take that step. His lips found yours again as his hands pushed your dress over your hips. Your fingers curled over his shoulders as you stepped out of the blue material, gently toeing it to one side. Those same hands gently curled into your flesh, fingers lightly digging into the back of your waist as he made to lift you gently. Understanding what he wanted, you gave a light jump and he settled you on the bar in front of him. His hands smoothed down the outside of your thighs before he gently parted your knees and stepped into the space between them. You realised in an instant what he had done. He’d given you the height. From your vantage point you were now a few inches above him and it meant that you also had the upper hand if you needed to push him away. He wasn’t caging you in, he wasn’t trying to overwhelm you or overpower you, and fuck, you loved him for it. With a flick of his eyebrow, his mouth pressed to yours again before he stepped back. "Andy... What...." Your question was answered when he dropped to his knees, and you gasped as his teeth nipped at that soft flesh of your inner thigh right where the seam of your panties covered your mound.His nose ran along your covered core, pressing into your clit from there and your hand instinctively went to the top of his head, your fingers rubbing through the soft wax he used to style it. Your nails dug into his scalp, and you automatically tugged on his hair a little without thinking. A low chuckle emerged from his mouth which vibrated against your core and you shivered with delight. Fingers curled around the sides of your panties as Andy pulled the piece of clothing down and away, tossing it to the floor. But instead of setting to you, he stood up and reached for his glass of champagne. You watched him curiously as he tossed the liquid into his mouth, before he knelt back down. And when his mouth covered your entrance you realised exactly what he was up to. The cold bubbles fizzed against your clit, popping, almost burning, and you cried out as Andy’s warm tongue lapped away. You could feel some of the cool liquid gently trickling down the inside of your thighs, all adding to the sensation of it and the pleasure which was coursing through your entire body.

Andy hummed against your slit as you cried out, swallowing the champagne which was still in his mouth, pulling at your sweet clit at the same time. "Oh God," you shook as your head dipped back. Your legs hung over shoulders, heels digging into the space just at the back of his neck as your palms scrabbled for traction on the granite. Eventually you gave in, slipping back to your elbows as Andy’s hands held your thighs open. His mouth was slow, almost torturously so as he brought you to the edge. The bristles of his beard against the soft skin of your inner thigh and wet outer folds meant you were already raw from friction but Jesus, was it glorious. You writhed and moaned, your head completely lost as you surrendered to the pleasure he was giving you, but just as you felt yourself going, he stopped and rose to his feet. “What? Why are you stopping?” You looked at him, your cheeks hot as he placed his palms flat on the counter, either side of your thighs. “Because I’m not done yet.” He remarked simply, leaning over to kiss you. “Asshole.” You grumbled and he chuckled, his hands moving to the clasp of your bra. You sat up fully, your fingers undoing the buttons on his shirt and he pulled back to look at you. “Angel…” “You said I couldn’t take your pants off, you never said anything about your shirt.” His fist curled around the collar of his tee and dress shirt, pulling both garments off and tossing them in a ball to the floor. “Happy?” He quipped as his hand returned to your bra. “Yup.” You smirked as he snapped the clasp open with his finger and thumb. He slipped the straps down, pressing a kiss to each shoulder as he did so, before he stepped back a little. You steeled yourself as his gaze again was on yours, a darkened tinge to his orbs that made you shiver. His right hand stretched for the bottle of champagne but you beat him to it. Your eyes not leaving his you raised it to your lips and took a huge gulp. “Fuck, Angel, you got no idea how fucking sexy that was.” You smirked and quirked a brow. In a movement of sheer brass bravery, suddenly unlocked from deep within, you tipped the bottle up slightly, sending a trickle down the valley between your breasts. “Jesus fucking Christ.” Andy mumbled, before his head dropped. His tongue was warm and flat as he licked a stripe up from your belly button to the hollow of your throat. His beard was wet against your skin, your juices and the champagne coating him and you alike. You giggled, taking another swig from the bottle before Andy snatched it, taking a large gulp himself. Once more, he didn’t swallow, his full mouth instead covering your right nipple. “Holy shit!” You hissed, arching further into him as the fizz hit your sensitive skin, his tongue laving away.

His left hand dug his fingers into the small of your back as his right toyed with your left breast, kneading your flesh and flicking his thumb over your free nipple. As the bubbles faded and Andy swallowed, your nipple was pulled deeper between his lips and as he switched sides, your left now gently pulled between his teeth, you felt your body shift as your legs began to shake and your toes curled. “Andy, I’m… oh fuck, I’m gonna…” His right hand dipped inside you and you were gone, your walls squeezing around the two, thick fingers. A downright filthy noise escaped your mouth as your back arched, trembles shaking your entire body. Andy watched your face which was contorted in pleasure, your jaw slack and he smirked to himself as he leaned forward, teeth nipping at your jaw before he kissed you. "Just like that, Angel," he gruffly coaxed. As you worked through cumming, his two fingers were deep, pulling you further into it, a "come here" curled motion against your G-spot. Your chest heaved as you took in a ragged breath of air, your eyes opening to meet his. Your hands reached out, fingers sliding into his beard, nails scratching his skin and he groaned out loud. "Fuck me, Counselor." Your lips hovered over his, voice husky with desire and you felt him shudder a little. He stood up straight, hastily undoing the buttons of his pants, pushing them down over his hips with his boxers, just enough to allow his rock hard, his cock to spring free against his belly He grabbed your hips, pulling you towards the edge of the counter, one hand wrapping around his cock to line himself up. In he slid, your depths tight and soaked for him. “Fuck, Angel…” he panted as he gave a deep thrust, before pulling back and driving into you again. "Oh, God, yes, Andy," you panted as the clink of his belt jingled with his pants around his thighs. “Fill me up.” An animalistic growl ripped from his throat, and one large hand splayed between your breasts as he pushed you back against the counter, sending the small wooden bowl of keys and random bits of spare change and other shit crashing to the floor of the kitchen. With a sharp tug he pulled you even further towards him, your ass now hanging off the edge of the counter as he powered into you with fast, strong snaps of his hips. He was right, he had you screaming his name. A repetitive mantra as he continued his ruts into you, your palms slapped against the cool of the granite. The champagne flutes were long gone, smashed into god knows how many pieces thanks to your downright filthy escapades, but you didn’t give a fuck. You could feel the heavy throb against your shaking walls, he was holding back until he could make you cum again and the strain in his muscles was tightly coiling your arousal.

"Andy, fuck, I'm..... Oh shit," you cried out as your coil snapped, cumming so hard your hearing dulled and your eyes saw flashes of light glittering across your eyes. His own grunts became louder, until he stilled, your name tearing from his throat as he himself blew. The room fell silent, bar the sound of deep breathing from the pair of you. His lips found yours, the kiss gentle, a total contrast from the avaricious force of the, frankly, mind blowing sex you’d just had. “I hope you didn’t like those glasses.” Andy chuckled, his nose bumping yours. "Don't care," you replied. He laughed, his forehead pressing to yours as you let out a contented sigh. “You okay?” "Definitely," you whispered. Satisfied with your answer, he pulled back a little and smirked. “Well, the rest of the bottle survived.” “You know, it’s not all that late considering.” You shrugged, your arms round his neck. “We could always drink the rest in bed?” “Film?” “Absolutely.” "Okay, let me clean up the glass first, don't move," he told you. "Don't think I could, yet.” You smirked, pecking him. "That was so..." “Yeah, it was.” Andy stepped back and rearranged his pants, tucking himself back in, leaving the button of his flies undone. Then, he bent down and handed you his shirt. You slipped it on as he quickly cleared away the broken glass before he lifted you off the counter. "Where we going?" You giggled as he was reluctant to set you down. “I’m just making sure you don’t cut your feet.” He replied, “I still got my shoes on. You don’t.” “I don’t have anything on bar your shirt.” “Which is my second favourite way to see you.” He gave you a soft kiss as he set you down in the hall. “Go on,” he gave your ass a light tap, “I’ll be up in a moment.” With a bite of your lip in glee, you turned back to him and winked, before heading up to your room. Your skin was sticky from the champagne and sex, so you took a quick shower. When you emerged, Andy was already in your room, stripped down, the bottle of champagne on his night stand along with two none-smashed flutes. As he pulled his pajama bottoms over his legs and went to grab his sleep tee, you stopped him. “Nope. No tee, I wanna snuggle properly.” A deep chuckle moved through his chest and you smirked, taking it from him. You quickly towelled yourself off, slipping his top over your head before you pulled on a clean pair of panties and crawled into bed besides him. He handed you a glass, before he raised his arm and you snuggled up beside him, as he sat, propped up against the headboard. “What you wanna watch?” He asked, remote in his hand, “and don’t say Jurassic Park.” "Buzz kill," you laughed. "I don't care. Your pick.” “Look we both know full well you’ll be asleep before half an hour has passed.” “Will not.” You pouted. With a quirk of his eyebrow, Andy scrolled through the movie list before he chuckled and selected The Hangover. True to form, fifteen minutes in, he had to take the glass from your hand when he saw it slipping as your head dropped further against his chest. With a fond smile, he set it on the night stand by his own, kissed your head and settled you both down, you sleeping soundly against him as he watched the rest of the film. ***** Andy held your hand as the two of you headed back to the Jeep, your ritual Saturday morning hike complete. It had been a little chilly as you’d set off, the bit of fall definitely in the air, but his soul was warm as you’d spent the hour chatting about what to do for your anniversary. The pair of you had definitely decided on Hawaii. The decision now was which island and what to do once you'd gotten there. Andy was quite happy to lay on a sun-lounger, and do absolutely nothing bar eat, drink and fuck you into oblivion but your eyes had lit up when you’d asked about jet skiing and whatever other life- threatening water sports they might have. And the sucker he was, couldn't tell you no. “Jet ski, okay. But I’m drawing the line at parasailing.” He said firmly, unlocking the car. "Fine!" You rolled your eyes with a giggle as you both climbed in. You stayed silent until he had turned the key in the ignition before you spoke again. "Bannana boat?" “Angel!” He groaned exasperatedly, his hand giving your knee a squeeze as he pulled the car out of the space. “Oh come on, it’ll be fun!” A shrill of his phone connected to your Bluetooth made you jump and he let go of your leg for a second to answer it on the wheel. “Hello?” "Andy... Benoit Blanc here." Andy froze as he felt you reach for his hand. He stole a glance at you, giving your fingers a squeeze as he saw your eyes widen and you swallowed, thickly. "Hey, just so you know, Y/N's here with me." "Good, is this a bad time or..." “No, it’s fine. Did you find something?” “I did. A lot more than I was looking for as it happens.” “What do you mean?” “I can’t really explain over the phone,” Blanc drawled, “but it’s errr, well, our good doctor is up to a little more than taking bungs from undesirables. I’ve booked a flight to Denver for the morning. If it suits you, we can meet and go through it then.” Andy looked at you and you gave a little nod. “Sure, I’ll text you the address unless you need me to pick you up?” “No, address is fine. I should be with you around midday.” "See you then." And when the call dropped, Andy turned to you, his eyes softening as his glance caught you paling, your lip quivering. He pulled the Jeep over on the highway back towards home and put it in park, cracking the windows to allow cool, autumn air to fill the cab. "Y/N," he hoped his voice came off calmer than he sounded to himself. He watched as you held a hand up to silence him. "Just... I need a second." Allowing you your moment, Andy concentrated on the traffic as it zipped past you, his mind working ten to the dozen, wondering what else it was that Blanc had found. After a few deep breaths he saw your right hand grip the door handle and pull it towards you, popping the door open. You stepped out and he sighed as it shut. His eyes glanced in the side mirror and then over his shoulder making sure the road was clear before he got out and quickly joined you on the passenger's side. You were standing with your hands above your head, clasped together atop your crown. “Honey?” "Yeah?" You swallowed. “This is good.” "I know. I just....I haven't seen him since..." "Oh, shit, I'm sorry, Angel I didn’t think." Andy sighed, “look, if you want I can meet him elsewhere, alone.” "No," you were quick to silence his thoughts. "I want to see him. I have things I have to say. I want to say." “You do?” That surprised him "I do." You got back in the Jeep and Andy turned on his heel to do the same. When he settled in, you continued. "I lied to him. I told him things that were not true and had I done anything differently maybe.... I... I don't know." “Angel, it wasn’t your fault. “ "Andy, I know. You said I had no choice and more and more I see that, or at least I'm starting to. And after last night, I truly want nothing more than to put this behind me, behind us, because I want to move on with our lives. I want us to go on our trip with clean slates and everything just gone." He sighed as you did. "What do you mean after last night?" "Just... These feelings over something so stupid and small and frankly weird that make me feel safe and secure and like.....me again." “Honey, I’m not following. Why do you mean?” "It's really dumb," you shook your head. “Try me.” "I just, while we were walking this morning, I kept thinking about last night and dinner and after." You shyly dipped your head. "The way I felt when the host called me...” You trailed off and Andy waited patiently, knowing now wasn’t the time to make quips about you being mistaken for his wife. There was something else to all this, something more and he wanted to know. “I just, well, there was this sense of stillness, a feeling like a pure love I had in my heart when he said it, and I never had that before.” You shook your head, “And then when we were together last night, I just got this overwhelming sense of all is right and a hint of a power I hadn't felt within myself in so long.” “And you feel that telling Blanc the truth is, what? Another step towards taking control back fully?” “Yeah, maybe, I’m not sure. I lied to a lot of people, and yes, I get that I had no choice. I can’t tell my parents, but I can tell Blanc. And all I know is that it feels like the right thing to do.” “Okay.” Andy nodded, “I think I understand.” “Glad you do, because I don’t understand it myself.” "When he comes tomorrow, we'll hear what he has to say and go from there. But I keep promising you, no matter what, you're safe. You're with me and you're safe." Andy smiled at you as you nodded. "Now, what do you say we go to Patty's then figure out what our plans for tonight are?" "I could use some pancakes and coffee." “You got it, Angel.” ***** After breakfast at Patty's, Andy drove home and the two of you set about cleaning house, a statement he wasn't about to argue that you felt the need to busy yourself in cleaning for your guest. By mid-afternoon he cornered you for a nap and when he woke, he found himself alone. With a stretch, he rose from the bed and into the bathroom, addressing the fact he needed to pee, before he wandered onto the landing. He took a peek out of the window and spotted the dark sedan parked further up the street. With a roll of his eyes, and a tick in his jaw he headed downstairs following the soft sounds of music accompanied by your voice. His irritation melted away and he sighed contently as his nose picked up the smell of baking cookies. He smirked as his bare feet hit those two creaky steps at the bottom. His lounge pants were slung low on his hips as he scratched at his naked torso, rounding the corner into the living room and seeing you at the counter, in his dress shirt and little else. “Stop perving on me.” You quipped, not turning to look at him and Andy laughed. He stepped up behind you, his lips gently pressing into your neck behind your ear. "I see our dog is back," you said, shying away from his ticklish beard. “What?” his lips followed your neck. "The sedan, down the street. I saw him," you sighed, finally turning in his arms. He hummed in annoyance, "oh, yeah. Well, hopefully after tomorrow we won’t have to put up with him for much longer.” "Hopefully," you sighed, tossing the dish towel aside. "So, hungry?" As if on cue, Andy's stomach garbled and he rubbed his abs. "A little. What shall I make us?" “Nothing, I already made it. There’s a lasagne in the oven, just need to pop the garlic bread in and do the side salad.” "Honey.... Did you even rest?" Andy rolled his eyes. "No, but what matters is you did." You patted his chest. "So, do me a favor and pop that new red you brought home from Ron and I'll finish the salad while the bread bakes." He huffed, a heavy breath leaving his chest as he shuffled over to the little wine bar area he had set up for the both of you. The pair of you shared a liking for a decent bottle with your meals on the weekends and as such, when you’d seen the idea in a magazine, Andy had instantly agreed. It basically consisted of a wine fridge for your whites, roses and fizz, and a hand crafted bottle rack for your reds which you had ordered bespoke from a little boutique in town. Reaching up, he pulled the red you requested from the bottom of the three rows. He then grabbed the opener and two wide bowl glasses from the cabinet and poured your drinks after the bottle breathed for a moment. Andy set the table for you both and pulled the garlic bread from the oven as the lasagne sat to cool and set before serving. He watched as you expertly sliced the tomatoes and cucumbers for the side salad, tossing it together and plating it for you both. “Ranch or french?” You asked, waving two bottles of dressing at him "Honey," he said with a hint of 'duh' to his tone. "Ranch," you smirked. There was something to be said about the way he sat with you at dinner, not a care in the world as you ate lasagne in his shirt and he sat at the dining table shirtless. The two of you drinking wine and laughing, the sense of real domestic bliss between you both. A bliss that was threatened when you dropped lasagne down the front of his shirt. “Well, you need to take that off now, and toss it into the machine.” Andy gave a playful sigh. "Mr Barber you just want me naked at dinner," you laughed, unbuttoning the two buttons you had done. “And?” With a roll of your eyes you left his sight and all he could hear was you in the washroom before coming back to him. He let out a groan as he realised you were now dressed in one of his hoodies and you flashed him a smug grin. "I see your game, Angel," he smirked back. "Finish up, I made cookies." You winked. “And besides, it’s not hygienic to be naked on surfaces we eat from.” “Didn’t bother you last night.” "No, I suppose it didn't." With a chuckle, Andy took the last few bits of his food, making a satisfied noise as he then rose to clear the dishes. He washed up as you left him to sort the laundry and when through, he sat in his spot on the couch after he started a fire and soft music played in the background. He patted his lap as you padded from the hall that opened up into the kitchen, dining room and living room. Calling you to him in a way. Your glasses of wine sat on the coffee table as he sat spread out on the chaise. You snuggled onto his lap, his chest now covered by a navy Henley, and gave a contented sigh as he kissed your head. "I love you," he whispered into your hair. “I love you too.” You replied, curling into him even more as his arms circled round you. And in that moment, Andy Barber was struggling to find another point, certainly in his recent life, where he had ever felt so content. He could only hope it wasn’t the calm before a monumental shit storm.

**** Chapter 15

#consciousness of guilt #andy barber #andy barber x reader #andy barber x you #andy barber fanfiction #defending jacob #chris evans #chris evans characters #reader insert

[carelessannie]

the five times steve gives bad dating advice, and the one time it actually works

Or, the Starker Shifter and College AU no one asked for

Link to AO3 Main pairings: Tony x Peter, (background) Steve x Bucky Word count: 5.6k Major Warnings: smut (not shifted), everyone’s a complete idiot, discussion of canine and feline mating behavior, excessive cursing Aaaaannnnnddddd I’ll tag @the-mad-starker because I said I would and I really hope you enjoy it bb

---

The door slams, startling Steve out of his afternoon nap. Peter must be home. He’s pretty sure Sam said he was gonna be out until the evening, and the stomping, slamming of cabinets, and various clanging dishware are usual signs of Peter’s afternoon fury.

Steve shakes out his coat, rolling his eyes as he stretches in the sun— his roommate is a damn idiot.

He doesn’t even bother shifting as Peter storms in the room, throwing his backpack to the ground and perching on the nearby armchair. He’s learned by now that when Peter wants to talk, Steve doesn’t need to speak. In fact, his friend probably prefers it that way.

So instead, he lets Peter brew, slamming his fingers onto the keys on his laptop, and viciously eating apple slices and… nutella. Oh. One of those days.

They only bring the nutella out on bad days.

Steve throws him a bone— metaphorically— and opens an eye, making an inquisitive noise deep in his throat.

Peter looks up, his delicate features squished together in an angry pout.

“First of all, your boyfriend’s an idiot.”

Offended, Steve bares his teeth and squints his eyes, sending Peter a menacing snarl that the smaller man waves off. His boyfriend is an idiot, but Peter has no business noticing that.

“I’m right and you know it,” Peter sniffs, turning his nose and inspecting his nails, “and his roommate is the absolute worst. And I’m not talking about Clint.”

There it is. Steve chuffs, feigning indifference. If he waits long enough, Peter will tell him more. So he lounges back, keeping one eye open, and letting the sun warm his fur. As he watches, he sees the moment Peter gives up his act. He jumps off the chair, making his way into Steve’s sunbeam, and slowly curls up next to the larger wolf.

“I’ve never met another cat so absolutely infuriating, Steve,” Peter whispers, petting through Steve’s golden fur, distractedly, “I can’t stand it. Always purring at me and calling me fucking kitten— no sir! I’m not a kitten, and it doesn’t matter how… how…”

He trails off, gripping tight onto Steve’s coat. When Steve turns to look, he realizes Peter’s tiny fangs have lengthened, poking through his rosy lips, as he runs his tongue over them absentmindedly. If he looks close enough, he can even see where Peter’s small, shifted ears are pushing through his curls.

Peter mumbles something that even Steve’s enhanced hearing can’t pick up. He nuzzles under Peter’s arm, urging him to repeat it.

“It doesn’t matter...” Peter murmurs, “... how beautiful he is, right?”

Steve’s ears perk up.

“Don’t act so surprised. Bucky told me you guys talk about it all the time. I just… I didn’t see it, okay? Not until today. Not until Tony fucking brought me coffee. I had no idea he was so sweet, Steve. I guess I always thought he was a dumb male cat shifter, like the stereotypes paint us out to be. But… he’s not. He’s so kind and funny and sexy, and oh my god, I bet his shifted cat is absolutely gorgeous.”

Steve rolls over to let Peter pet his tummy as he continues, “So naturally, I cornered Bucky to get him to spill. To tell me more about Tony, and how to date him, and… and… how you guys got together. But he said to come talk to you—” Peter crawls closer and tries to look him in the eye, “pleeeeeease, Steve? Help me?”

With a sigh, Steve sits up, shaking out his fur and letting his wolf recede, until he’s stretching out long arms and wiggling his fingers. His gym shorts are nearby, so he slips back into them, doing a customary once over to check for a full shift. Then he settles against the couch, opening his arms in an invitation for Peter to curl up on him.

Peter scoots closer, marginally, and Steve chuckles, “Want some dating advice, Pete?”

“Mhm, yes please,” Peter hums, closing the distance and leaning into Steve’s leg.

“Okay, I’ll tell you some things that worked for me, when I was courting Bucky.”

One.

Later that evening, Tony and Steve are set up in the dining room, comparing notes for their Econ class, and steadily working through their midterm project. Bucky and Peter should be back in a moment with pizza, and hopefully the four of them, plus Sam, will spend the night watching movies. It’s Friday, after all.

Steve hears the front door open and close, quiet conversation drifting down the hallway, but is surprised when just Bucky walks into the kitchen, setting down pizza and making his way over to where the two of them are seated.

Bucky leans down, planting a sweet kiss on his lips, before claiming a seat.

He opens his mouth to ask, but Tony beats him to it, not even looking up, “Where’d Pete get off to? You didn’t lose him, did you?”

Bucky just huffs, “No, you moron. He had to grab something from his room.”

Tony just shrugs, turning back to his notes. Steve spares Bucky a glance, curious about what Peter could be up to, and Bucky gives him a wink. Great.

It’s quiet as the three of them shift pages, typing gently on their laptops, and only exchanging conversation when there’s an issue with the material. Steve gets up once to grab a glass of water, and tries to look down the hallway— no sign of his roommate whatsoever.

With the smell of pizza filling the apartment, they decide not to wait any longer to eat. Steve hollers down the hall for Peter to come get some dinner, but still, his roommate is nowhere to be seen.

As he sits back down at the table, Steve can hear light footsteps coming towards them. He turns his attention back to their homework, and watches as Tony and Bucky pass out glasses, uncorking a bottle of wine.

“How fuckin’ fancy are we?” Steve wonders, giving Bucky a smirk as Tony starts to pour.

“Okay, there’s nothing wrong with a nice bottle of—” “YEEEEOOOOOWWWWWLLLL—”

Tony drops the bottle, flipping backwards out of his seat at the ungodly screech. Steve hops over into Bucky’s lap, picking his feet off the floor as his boyfriend flounders around, cursing and gasping for air.

“Holy shit, what the hell—”

“ReeeRRROOOOWWWWLLL—”

The noise continues, splitting through the air, and Steve watches Tony shift down, fangs lengthening, ears and whiskers emerging, as he drops to four legs. From where they sit on the dining room chair, neither of them can see what happens as the noise suddenly stops, a long, hissing growl taking its place.

Steve peeks under the table, and sees both cat shifters arched up, fur fluffed out in a clear challenge, teeth bared and hissing. Dammit. Peter’s cat— a yellow tabby— is slowly backing up as Tony’s cat— dark and tortoiseshell— follows him, spitting and growling, until Peter finally turns his back, relaxing his coat, and slowly retreats.

“Holy shit,” Bucky breaths, starting to laugh, “what the fuck was that.”

Steve just shakes his head in disbelief, watching Peter sprint down the hall to his room as Tony licks his paws, tail still fluffed in irritation, and eyes pinning them with a deadly glare.

The table is a mess— wine spilled across their notes, Tony’s laptop, and pizza overturned, smeared across the soaked pages. Once Tony starts shifting back, Steve slides off of Bucky’s lap and takes stock of the damage. What the fuck indeed.

He looks over at Bucky, “Can you… take care of this,” he gestures to the table, “I’m gonna go talk to Peter.”

Bucky nods, still shocked, and Steve turns to follow Peter back to his room. He stops outside, knocking gently— careful not to intrude into the shifter’s territory.

“Peter, it’s me. Can I come in?”

There’s a rumble, and then the lock clicks, letting the door swing open. Peter struts back towards his window seat, fully shifted back and wearing just a pair of black briefs, and curls up by the window.

“Uh, Pete? What happened?”

Peter sniffles, looking out the window, “You told me that you and Bucky like to show affection by making noises at each other in your wolf form. So why didn’t it work?”

“Oh my god.”

“He attacked me, Steve!” Peter whines, burying his face in his hands.

It takes everything in Steve’s power not to laugh. Poor kitten. He slowly approaches, sitting nearby and in Peter’s view, extending a hand for Peter to take if he wants.

“So… maybe that wasn’t the best advice. I swear, it’s one of the easiest ways we bond, as wolves. But not that screeching noise, Peter— more of a growl, or other small noises.”

Peter pouts, looking into his hands.

“Here,” Steve stands up, holding out his hand, “let’s go get some pizza and help clean up. You can apologize, come up with some dumb excuse, and we can find some other way to hit on Tony, okay?”

“Fine.” Peter joins him, pulling on a sweatshirt and some shorts, “Let’s hope I didn’t spill all the damn wine. We’re gonna need it.”

Two.

A few days later, all of their friends are lounging across Steve’s furniture, taking a lazy afternoon after midterms to drink some Coor’s and watch Japanese game shows. Steve’s not even sure who’s interested in this, but doesn’t really care, as he lets himself drift off to the sound of Bucky’s deep breathing, his mate settled close on his chest.

It’s rare that everyone is in the same place, especially without homework or projects taking up their time, and Steve feels a deep sense of peace as his pack is settled, warm and safe, around him.

“Stop it, Stevie, you’re givin’ me thoughts,” Bucky mumbles, pinching him in the side.

Steve just hums, smiling down at his mate, and looks over to where Peter’s laying across the floor, partially shifted, and tail flicking slightly. On the other side of the room, Tony watches with his arms crosses, eyes following the striped tail.

“Let's go for a walk.” Steve announces, lifting Bucky off and getting a grumpy noise in protest. He makes a show of stretching, and gives Peter a wink. His eyes go wide in understanding.

“Fine,” Peter pushes off the carpet, shaking himself to shift back fully, “but only if I can get ice cream.”

Bucky ends up agreeing, and muscles Tony into joining them as well. Sam and Natasha decide to stay, enjoying the silence, but demand delivery from their friends. Clint stands up as they’re leaving, and follows them out the door.

It’s a quick walk down to get ice cream, just a block away, and Steve tries to make a show of brushing up against Bucky, reminding Peter of their last conversation.

Peter saddles up next to Tony, walking side-by-side only a few steps in front of them. He glances up, batting his eyelashes, and bumps his hips into Tony’s.

Tony whips around, on instinct, and pushes Peter in the chest, sending him careening off the sidewalk and landing in a heap, right in the middle of the road. All of them freeze, looking between Tony and Peter in disbelief, as the younger boy’s eyes brim with tears.

“Oh my… Peter, oh my god,” Tony shakes himself, and sprints into the road, thankfully clear of traffic, and pulls Peter to his feet, leading him back to the sidewalk. “I don’t… I don’t even know what happened, I’m so sorry.”

“It’s okay, it’s fine,” Peter pulls away, giving Steve a dirty look, “can we just go get ice cream, please?”

Tony nods, sticking close to Peter as they walk away, and Steve can hear him promise, “I’ll buy yours, really, I’m so sorry.”

When they’re out of earshot, Clint ambling along after them with a shrug, Bucky turns to him and smirks, “What was that, Stevie?”

“I… I told him about the rubbing thing we do. You know… when we walk together?”

Bucky laughs all the way to the ice cream parlor.

Three.

It’s a week or so later when they have Tony and Bucky over for another movie night. Peter was mortified, and furious, about his latest attempt, but Steve can tell he’s determined to make a move tonight.

And Steve thinks this one will work, too. He’s not sure, at this point, if he should still be giving Peter advice, but he’s seen cat shifter mates do this, so he’s pretty sure it’s gonna work.

Bucky just smacks him in the head, annoyed that Steve wants to meddle.

The four of them are watching the Hobbit trilogy, per Tony’s request, and have piled blankets and pillows on the floor to lounge on. Steve takes the leads and shifts down, kicking off his clothes, shaking out his fur, and stretching out in his wolf form on the floor. He feels Bucky join him, the familiar warmth of his mate comforting against his side. They both look expectantly at their friends, hoping they take the hint.

Peter squints at them, irritated, but shifts down anyway, pushing out of his clothes and settling against Steve’s side, purring when the giant wolf starts to groom him, licking long strokes down his back.

Steve can see the adoration on Tony’s face. He’s completely captivated by the sweet kitten, and he shifts, stretching out and pacing closer to the three of them. Steve can’t help but wag his tail, bumping up against Bucky and wiggling closer to get a lick on Tony’s face.

Tony yelps, bouncing away, and pretends to clean himself. Peter just watches on, intently, as Tony takes his time to walk back over, carefully avoiding the wolves. His eyes are wide and unblinking. Tony curls up nearby, and Peter takes his chance, slinking closer, and reaching out to lick Tony’s cheek.

Tony shifts, moving out of Peter’s reach. Peter crawls closer and tries again, but Tony pulls away. One more try, and Tony stands, jumping up onto the couch and out of reach.

Peter just mewls, soft and sad, before tucking himself back underneath Steve’s front leg. Bucky growls, low in his chest, and Steve can tell it’s aimed at Tony. Dumb cat.

They stay shifted for the better part of an hour, grooming and cuddling together, until Tony finally comes back down from his perch. Out of the corner of his eye, Steve can see him approach, slowly, and try to get near Peter. Bucky growls again, not even opening his eyes, and the tortoiseshell cat scrambles away.

So much for that.

Four.

Spring break— fucking finally.

Classes have been hard this semester, and all of them are feeling it. Steve’s thankful that Tony’s parents have a place in the woods for them to escape to, because he’s itching to shift, let loose, and run away with his mate. Hopefully for the whole week.

Somehow, Steve got stuck driving their car, packing Bucky in the passenger seat, Sam and Peter in the middle two, and Clint, Nat and Tony in the backseat. He’s not sure how they make it there alive, with Bucky’s Cool Vibes playlist, Sam and Tony’s backseat commentary, and the thick mix of pheromones swirling through the air.

“What is that, Buck?” he murmurs in a low tone, squeezing his boyfriend’s hand over the center console.

“Hm?” Bucky looks over, blinking lazily.

“The… tension. The smell. What is it?”

“Oh, uh—” Bucky takes a moment, scenting the air and grimacing, “— yeah, that’s rut.”

Steve almost slams on the breaks.

“Rut? Like cat rut?”

Bucky just nods, making a point to roll down his window, “Yeah, Stevie. It’s springtime. We’ve got two, male cat shifters in the car. The rest of us ain’t gonna feel nothin’, but they’re definitely feelin’ it.”

He turns around and glances behind him, smiling at the sight of both cat shifters arguing and flirting behind them. Sam looks horrified.

Steve just rolls his eyes, “I’m tired of their bullshit. Hope they spend some time together this week, ya know?”

“Hope they spend more than time,” Bucky laughs, giving Steve’s hand a squeeze in return.

In the rearview, Steve can see Tony, fully turned around in his seat, gesturing wildly as Peter shakes his head, the two of them clearly caught in a deep discussion. When he looks closer, he sees the way Peter flutters his lashes, how Tony rubs up against the seat and the wall of the van.

Idiots.

Steve focuses back on the road, sighing and trying to enjoy how warm Bucky is next to him, how settled he is with his mate nearby.

Less than an hour later, and with every window rolled down, Steve parks the van outside of the cabin. If anyone would call it that. Three stories tall, the cabin looms over the driveway. Dark, aged wood is contrasted with sleek and modern architecture, blending back into the treeline and standing out of it at the same time. Gorgeous. Breathtaking.

As they carry their bags into the cabin, Steve catches sight of the lake in the backyard. Apparently Bucky and Clint see it as well, because all three of them are dropping their stuff, stripping out of their clothes, and racing to the water.

Steve shifts mid-stride, barking in joy as his pack follows him into the lake. Around the cabin, down the hill, off the dock— he’s first. First! And Bucky follows after him, their splashes large and in sync.

Clint ambles, albeit slower in his shifted golden retriever, and flops gracelessly in after them. The water is heavenly, and the three of them swim and play, bounding through the water and jumping off the pier.

That is, until their friends join them.

It seems as though Tony let the others into the house, put away their bags, packed a cooler, and found a few beach chairs and towels. The four of them set up a row of chairs and open an umbrella above them, settling down in skimpy swimwear to enjoy the afternoon sun.

Clint barks up at them, no doubt encouraging Nat and Sam to shift down and join them in the water.

“You guys are idiots,” Sam yells back, popping the tab on his drink, “the beer’s up here!”

Steve treads water, huffing a bit in amusement as he watches his pack— which is how he catches Tony moving closer to Peter. Tony passes him a beer, which Peter takes with a smirk and quick comment that makes Tony laugh.

Gag.

And he almost misses it— he goes to turn away, and sees Tony dart across, pressing a swift kiss to Peter’s blushing cheek. Peter gasps, meeting Tony’s eyes in shock, before grabbing his shoulders, leaning closer, and—

“Ow!”

“Oh my god, I’m sorry, Tony—”

“You bit me!”

Steve swims over to the ladder, shifting down as he goes, and grabs a towel as he climbs up to investigate. Both men are standing now, blushing and holding their faces— Peter in shame, and Tony in mock horror. So dramatic.

“— how could you think that was what I wanted?”

“I didn’t! I just… I asked Steve, and he said—”

“Woah woah woah,” Steve cuts in, hands up in surrender, “I never said to bite him.”

Peter covers his face again with a groan, flopping down in his seat and throwing a towel over his face.

Tony looks down at him, bewildered, and back up at Steve, shrugging. “What did I do?” he mouths, lips turning down into a sad, sad pout.

Steve doesn’t even know what to say.

“Let’s go start the grill,” Sam suggests— thank god for Sam, and grabs Steve and Tony’s shoulders to lead them away.

A few minutes later, working over the grill together, Tony peers up at Steve, giving him a pointed look. Steve just sighs, again.

“Canines do this thing— instead of kisses on the cheek, when we’re shifted, we like to nibble on each other’s faces. It’s the same thing,” he pauses, taking in the disbelief written across Tony’s expression, “... for canines.”

“So he was… trying to kiss me back?”

Sam huffs, clapping Tony on the shoulder, “More than that, Tones.”

Tony sits down, hard, in light of this revelation.

Five.

Bucky corners him, later in the evening, and it’s not for a sexy reason.

“You’ve gotta stop meddling in their shit, Stevie,” he hisses, pinning Steve to the wall.

Steve looks down to where their bodies are pressed together and groans, “Buck, this is a serious conversation, but you gotta let me up, pal.” Bucky’s eyes go wide and he grimaces, letting Steve up.

The two of them take a deep breath before Steve continues, “I’ve got a plan.”

“No.”

“It’s a good one.”

“Absolutely not.”

“We should force them to sleep together.”

“...”

“I mean. Not like… Buck, not like that. I mean, like, den together, like how we did when we were bonding for the first time.”

Bucky crosses his arms, giving Steve a less than impressed look.

“So you think that would work? How would you even pull that off?”

“I told you, I have a plan.”

---

Steve and Bucky corner Tony, later, and tell him their plan. Steve explains how he’s spent almost a month trying to help Peter court Tony, and Tony, for the most part, looks absolutely baffled.

“Yeah, I didn’t get that.”

Bucky covers his laugh with a hand, turning away so Steve can’t see him. Idiot.

They try to convince Tony to go along with their plan— sneaking into Peter’s room, fully shifted, and curling up next to him.

“It’s not gonna work, Steve. Felines are territorial—”

“— so are canines—”

“— and he’s not gonna want me in his space uninvited!”

“— but it’s not his space! It’s yours, it’s literally your territory,” Steve insists, “and it’ll show him that you want more, Tony.”

Tony just sighs, looking off into the fireplace, roaring with life. Warm and inviting. Steve aches to get out of here, but he’s committed to getting his friends together first.

“Fine,” Tony concedes, rising to his feet and starting to shift. He points at Steve as he shrinks down, “but I’m blaming you when thisss goesss to shhit.”

Fully shifted, Tony stalks across the living room, disappearing up the stairs to the guest bedrooms. Steve pulls Bucky close, both of them nuzzling close and enjoying their shared scent, shared warmth. They hear a door shut. Silence. Bucky turns to dot a light kiss on Steve’s jaw, and Steve returns it with a teasing growl.

“When this is over,” he rumbles, “we’re shifting for days, baby.”

Bucky sighs and wiggles closer, “Can’t wait, Stevie. Been itchin’ for it. Needin’—”

BANG, CRASH!

MrrrOWWWWWWWW

“Not again,” Bucky groans, hiding his face in Steve’s chest.

Tony, still fully shifted, tears through the living room, tail fluffed out and fur raised along his back. He darts under their couch, breathing hard and hiding, as Peter stomps down the stairs. He’s half shifted— fangs and ears and paws and tail all displaying aggression and annoyance.

“I really like you Tony,” he hisses, crossing his arms and standing so that Tony can see him from under the couch, “but that was a real dick move. Sometimes I feel like you hate me, and want me to hate you. Don’t try to talk to me, Tony. I don’t wanna see you until the morning.”

Peter stalks away, leaving Tony under the couch. Bucky tugs on Steve’s sleeve, “We really shouldn’t be here when Tony shifts back.”

Steve spares a glance under the couch, watching Tony clean his paws and glare back at them, and nods. The two of them beat a quick retreat, heading for the kitchen to pack some snacks for their time in the forest. Tony said the deer in this area are free to hunt, but sometimes they like fruits and pastries for breakfast. It’s a whole thing.

Before they run off into the woods, Steve stops, looking back to where Tony, still shifted, is sulking under the furniture.

“You should do it.”

Both Tony and Bucky look at him in shock, the latter already protesting.

“No, no— you don’t have to take my advice, Tony. I know I’ve screwed a bunch up already. I’m just saying, you should talk to him tonight, show him that you care. Follow your instincts— because they’re obviously different than ours. We know…” he glances over at Bucky, who nods, “we know you love him, Tony. Go fight for him.”

Tony just turns around, showing his back.

Bucky grabs Steve’s hand, “Let’s go, Stevie.”

One.

Tony watches them retreat out the backdoor, letting it close with a soft click! He slinks out from under the couch and sits by the fire, thinking about what Steve said.

Follow your instincts.

He thinks about the kiss earlier. How pretty Peter’s blush had been, how much he wanted to rub up against Peter’s cheek and mark him, claim him. He wishes they got to run together, fight and wrestle away their pent up energy. He knows both of them are rutting, he just thought… he really thought…

It doesn’t matter now. He closes his eyes, lets his ears twitch in thought, as he focuses on his instincts. He lets the rage and the desire and the animal need wash over him, and all he can think, all he can feel, is chase.

Chase. Catch.

Chase. Catch.

He doesn’t even register getting up, prowling up the stairs, moving down the hallway.

Chase. Catch.

Chase. Catch.

The door to Peter’s room is open.

Chase. Catch.

He creeps inside, taking a peek over to the bed.

Mate.

Peter turns his head, making eye contact.

Run.

Tony leaps into the air, sprinting out the door— Peter hot on his tail. He flies down the stairs and slides around the corner, slamming into the trash can. Dammit. Why is that always there? As he growls at the metal can, Peter catches up to him, tackling him to the ground with a loud shriek.

They wrestle, growling and biting, until Peter breaks free with a hiss, bouncing on the pads of his feet to assert dominance. Oh no. Not in Tony’s house. Tony spits, rising up on his toes, until Peter freezes— both of them growling, low and angry.

Peter takes off. Spinning on his feet, the yellow tabby slams, hard, into the wall— fuck, he’s so strong— and bounces off lightning fast, out the door and into the front yard. Tony runs after him, dodging bushes and trees to follow Peter’s agile trail, secretly admiring his speed and the cleverness of his path. Beautiful.

He follows Peter all the way up a tree, forcing him out on a limb. Tony arches his back, sending a signal of dominance across to Peter, but Peter refuses to back down. He meets Tony’s gaze, raises his haunches, and spits back. Holy shit.

Tony leaps, tackling Peter off the branch, and sends both of them tumbling into the grass. In a flurry of nails and teeth and yowling, they fight for dominance, pinning and repinning until they come to a stop, teeth mutually clenched in the other’s scruff, and completely tangled together.

They’re breathing hard. Tony can feel it on his neck, and realizes both of their penises have unsheathed, rubbing together and catching on the barbs. It’s a crazy sensation— ramping up both of their rut pheromones.

As they lay there together— intertwined in the dark of the spring night— Tony feels himself start to shift back. He closes his eyes, gripping tight to Peter’s neck, his bare skin, as he flexes his fingers. He feels Peter shifting in his arms, and they hold on tight, neither willing to give up their prize.

“Mine,” Tony growls, unlatching his jaw as he feels Peter do the same.

His friend, his new mate, smiles— his gorgeous, bruised lips pulling back to reveal delicate and deadly fangs, “Mine,” he agrees, leaning forward hesitantly.

Tony closes the gap, rubbing their cheeks together and earning a satisfied purr from deep in Peter’s chest. He rolls them until he’s on top, and takes a few moments to kiss and lick around Peter’s chest, his tummy, his neck.

He grins mischievously before biting down on a pale pink nipple, earning him a gutted moan in response. Peter’s definitely hard against Tony’s thigh, but he’s been waiting way too long for this to rush it. Damn if he isn’t gonna take his time tonight.

“Mine,” he growls again, fiercer, and drags his nails up Peter’s hips, down his back. He drowns in the small gasps and moans he’s able to coax from his mate, marveling in the way his pale skin glows in the moonlight.

Peter paws at his back, spreads his legs wide, and grinds up against Tony’s erection, desperate for his touch. Every Mine is echoed between them, sung like a mating call for all to hear in the thick, springtime haze. They dance together, flipping time and time again for dominance— although, this time gentle. Caring and full of playful adoration.

When Tony finally takes them in hand, Peter throws his head back, yowling into the open air— “Tony! Tony, fuck fuck, touch me, goddammit, please touch me,” and Tony bends to his wishes, stroking their cocks together, long and firm.

He loves how Peter feels next to him, a tiny bit smaller, but the perfect size to compliment Tony’s own length. Tony spits down into his hand, slicking the way, and thrusts forward, urging Peter to follow his lead as they fuck into his grip.

“C’mon Pete, c’mon love— fuck me, baby, please.”

“Yeah, oh Tony, please. Need more, Tony,” Peter begs turning his wickedly innocent doe eyes on Tony in desperation.

Tony grips tighter, thrusts harder, and returns Peter’s molten gaze. What can he… oh.

He throws himself forward, bracing with one hand above Peter’s head, and seals their lips together. Peter gasps, stuttering his hips, and Tony can feel the warmth spilling over his palm, coating both of their cocks. He strokes Peter through it, kissing him deeply, thoroughly, until his mate starts to whine in discomfort.

Tony pulls away, feeling his orgasm pooling deep in his belly, and crawls up closer on Peter’s chest. His eyes are half-lidded, lips swollen and hair matted and messy— and Tony’s never seen anything more gorgeous.

“Please,” he pants, speeding up the stroke on his cock, “Pete, please let me, let me come on you, please. Mine. Mine, Peter. Let me mark you, please.”

“Yes, yes—“ Peter moans, reaching up to cup Tony’s balls, “mine, give it to me, Tony— it’s mine.”

At his words, Tony lets out a breath, crumpling forward as his release drains him, throwing him over the edge and right into Peter’s waiting arms. He watches as hot stripes of cum paint Peter’s chest, drip down his chin, and even land in his mouth. It’s too much to see his mate, covered in him, licking it off his fingers— so he falls to the ground, exhausted and spent.

A moment later he’s grabbing for Peter, humming in pleasure as his mate saddles close, burying his face in Tony’s neck.

And then Peter giggles. A soft, barely there laugh that tickles the side of Tony’s throat.

“What?” Tony rasps, looking down at Peter in amusement.

Peter keeps laughing, sitting up fully to bury his face in his hands and get out full, gasping belly laughs. He holds onto Tony as he wipes away tears, and Tony just chuckles, happy to see his mate so joyful.

When Peter settles down, he sighs, giving Tony a lopsided smile, “I can’t believe what just happened,” Tony shakes his head, returning the smile, as Peter continues, “I’ve been taking dating advice from a fucking wolf for a month— when all we had to do was,” he gestures wildly, “whatever this was,”

Tony laughs, he gets it now, “Well, it was kinda inconvenient that every suggestion they had was actually a severe act of aggression between male felines.”

“Oh my god,” Peter giggles again, “what the hell were you even trying to do tonight? When I found you in my bed?”

Tony blushes, looking away, and mumbles, “Steve and Bucky thought if we slept next to each other—“

“— but that’s a breach of territory for unmated felines!”

“— that’s what I said! Somehow they convinced me otherwise, and… well…”

Tony trails off, letting his words fade to a comfortable silence. Peter snuggles closer, letting Tony wrap and arm around him. It’s chilly outside, but until they go and lay by the fire, both of them are content to find warmth in each other.

“I’m glad you came to find me,” Peter whispers, dotting a kiss onto Tony’s collarbone.

“I’m glad I did, too,” Tony nuzzles into his curls, inhaling the new scent of mate and home that he’s come to associate with Peter, “and you know what? In the end, that idiot’s dating advice ended up bringing me to you.”

“We don’t have to tell him that do we?”

Tony shakes his head, “No. No we don’t.”

Bonus:

Clint and Sam and Nat stare at each other in horror, refusing to acknowledge what they just heard going on inside and outside of the house.

“Do you think the coast is clear?”

“Can’t be certain. It’s way too quiet out there.”

“They’re both in rut, it could be days.”

“Maybe we should go find Steve and Bucky, they’d know what to do.”

“If I know them at all, and I think I do, those two are gonna be knotted up for the next few days. I don’t wanna witness that.”

The three of them are silent, listening for any movement or sign that their newly mated friends are alive.

“I vote we shift down and doggy pile.”

“Yes, okay.”

“Fine.”

“And in the morning, we can talk about feline mating patterns.”

“... and boundaries.”

#starker #tony x peter #shifters #college au #shifter au #peter parker #tony stark #background #stucky #feline shifters vs canine shifters #fluff #smut #tw: cursing #nff #tw: boys are idiots #idiots in love #steve pov #tony pov

[magpiefngrl]

You didn't fail. Please don't let people with subpar reading comprehension skills affect your belief in yourself as a writer. Unfortunately, I think this happens more often the more nuanced a fic writer becomes in their characterization. Ironically, I would bet money it means you did succeed with all the right readers and that some people a) don't understand what you did or how you did it because they're just not reading on that level and b) they're coming in with preconceived notions of how these characters 'should' be written. And when/if they're not written to those specifications, they're going to get butthurt. You are a stellar writer, and I'm angry that someone who doesn't get you is being given the power to sway your opinion about yourself. They don't deserve it. (Also, I had someone comment that I'd turned Harry into a simp for a death eater once. People are going to take us wrong sometimes. Doesn't mean they're right or we're bad writers.) You're brilliant at what you do. You're absolutely brilliant. All my love, bb.

ah lqt, I can't thank you enough for this ask. It means a lot. ❤️

I know you're right. Rationally, I agree with you. Not in the sense that I'm sitting at my desk thinking of what a nuanced author I am lol, but in the sense that when I wrote the scene (that seems to be the problem), I had my reasons for it, I had thought of character motivations, and I felt that this is the right course to take.

(rant below)

The preconceived ideas that people bring with them is the main reason for these comments imo. I know Lettered has mentioned in at least a couple of posts that they've been getting comments re: Harry and Draco characterisations that don't match what they've written and they had to accept that these comments were what the reader brought with them rather than what was in the text. I whole-heartedly agreed with Lettered's posts, bc I've seen a marked difference in what people comment about in the past 4 years. Harry, these days, seems to be frequently seen by readers as either an idiot and a himbo, or a jerk. Both things drive me up the wall. It's one thing to joke about oblivious Harry once or twice, or to experiment with dark or mean Harry (and tag it as such, meaning the author is aware it's an unusual approach), another to see people accepting it as the standard characterisation. I never used to get insulting comments about Harry's behaviour 3-4 years ago. Never. And no one ever calls Draco a jerk or an idiot even when I try to write him as a bit of a git. I'm honestly going to start writing unredeemed Draco out of spite. When I receive the comments I receive about Harry now, I'm usually able to ignore them and say "this is what the reader brings to the story and it tells me more about them than about my writing."

But it's made me hate my inbox. It's made me receive an AO3 comment notif and think "oh god what now". 95% of the comments are lovely but for some reason the 5% has tainted the rest. I've had a lot of upheavals in the past 12 months in both real life and fandom and have had less support than normal. So when a third person says the same thing abut Harry regarding the same scene, I can't help but think "if I was a better writer, I'd have managed to convey what I wanted to convey" -- which is such a rational-appearing thought that I can't seem to shake it. I can't help but think that I fucked up, that I messed up some details and failed to convey what I needed the reader to think, and everyone else was too polite to comment on it.

It's such an insidious thought, isn't it? It appears to make so much sense. A better writer wouldn't have made people think X, right? That's what upset me about today's comment, when it isn't hateful or anything. It managed to slip through and hit me right in the most insecure part, and I can't seem to make that voice shut up.

Everyone (and you!) has been lovely though. It's a testament to how full of compassion fandom communities are. I am heart-warmed by the outpouring of love and support by the community and I've had a few good cries already.

Thanks again bb ❤️❤️

#inbox #i'll prob delete this at some point #do not reblog pls #not that you'd want to #but just in case

[snowdice]

Folds in Paper (Chapter 8: In the Nick of Time)[Folds in Time Universe]

Fandom: Sanders Sides

Relationships: Janus/Patton, Remus & Roman, eventual Logan/Virgil (maybe more)

Characters:

Main: Janus, Patton, Remus

Appear: Remy, Emile, Virgil, Logan, Roman

Summary: Janus, a disillusioned senior agent working for the Time Preservation Initiative, struggles to find meaning in a world where time travel could change everything about your life’s history in less than a moment. When time distortions start popping up, threatening the timeline and the fabric of reality as he knows it, it becomes a race against the clock to fix the damage before everything unravels. And the problem with time travel… you never how long you have before the clock strikes 12 and your time is up.

With a partner who has more mysteries in his past than Janus had anticipated and an enigmatic free agent time traveler mucking about time always with a clever pun or a time appropriate pet name on his lips, Janus will need to figure out what went wrong with time, and more importantly, how to fix it.

Chapter Summary:  

The TPI let’s Nick go... just in time.

Notes: Time travel AU, mystery, enemies to lovers, alcohol

This is a fic I’ve been writing on study breaks that you have probably all already seen at this point. I’ve slightly edited it for wording and grammar, but not for content from my previous posts. Feel free to send in asks to direct it because I’m not 100% sure where this is going and you can help decide if you feel so inclined! You can see the process I went through to build this at this link.

I also have a playlist on youtube (because Spotify didn’t have one of the songs I wanted).

AO3 Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Pat looked up as Janus stepped into the interrogation room. “Hi,” he said with an innocent smile that could cut steal.

Janus didn’t say a word as he took a seat; he just watched him intently. He leaned slightly over the table and steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “So, your name is Nick this time?” Janus asked.

“Nicholas Jonas,” he said. “Always has been.”

“Stop it,” Janus said.

“Stop what?”

“Cut the crap. I know.”

Pat leaned forward, mirroring Janus as he leaned closer, interlocking his fingers and laying his chin on top of his knuckles. “What did you say your name was again?” he asked, pleasantly.

“Janus,” Janus replied.

“No, I’m Jonas,” he said, pointing to his chest.

“Not Jonas,” Janus spat. “Janus.”

“Um,” Pat said, eyes alight with amusement. The bastard. “Those are the same words.”

“No, they’re not. It’s Janus. J-A-N-U-S.”

“Well, that’s confusing,” Pat said with a frown, but his nose was crinkling. “It’s close to my name. You should go by a nickname instead.”

“What?” Janus said. “No.”

Pat hummed. “How about Love Bug?”

“What! No!” Janus sputtered, almost flipping the table, as Pat winked at him.

“BB Good?”

“What does that even mean?!”

“Mandy.”

“No!”

“Okay, okay, how about Macy Misa.”

Janus stared at him for a moment. “Fine. Whatever. What was I even talking about?”

“Hmm. I Believe we were talking about my name and how you think it’s not my name.”

“Right,” Janus said. “So, Nick. That was your roommate, Kevin on the phone, right? He seemed a bit unhappy with you. Any reason?”

“Nah, we’re Cool” said Pat. “That’s Just the Way We Roll.”

“Not because you’re messing up a mission right now?”

Pat’s eyes crinkled together. “A mission?” he parroted. “I’m not messing up a mission.”

“Oh, really?” Janus growled. “Because you’ve been captured by the TPI, and I know who you are and what you’ve been doing.”

“I have no idea what the TPI is,” he claimed.

“Yes, you do!” Janus said, standing up. “You obviously do! Or you wouldn’t be playing this game!”

“Game?” Pat asked. “Macy, I ask you what you’re talking about.”

“This is all just a game to you isn’t it!” Janus said, slamming his hands down on the table in front of them.

“Whoa,” Pat said, putting his hands up. “Calm down. Your face is getting all red. You must be Burnin’ Up.”

“I’m not sure what, but something about what you just said pisses me off.”

“And that is five minutes,” Khalid said, bursting into the room. He felt a tug on the back of his shirt and glared back at Remus who was putting his own body between Janus and Pat.

“There was no way that was five minutes,” Janus growled.

“It was five minutes,” Khalid gritted out. “Clockson, get him out of here.”

“Come on Jay,” Remus said, dragging him back towards the door.

“Remus, I swear to god,” Janus said after the door closed behind them.

“Just chill, Janus,” Remus said.

Janus shrugged him off. “You chill!” he snapped. “He’s playing you all for the fool.”

“Wow, Macy,” Remy drawled like an asshole. “I’ve never seen you so fired up.”

“Oh, my gosh. No one is going to believe me, and he’s going to get away with this.”

“You’re not really helping your case, babe,” Remy said.

Remus grabbed him by the shoulders again. “Here, let’s go get some water.”

“I don’t want water,” he said even as he let Remus lead him to another room to get a glass of water.

“Look,” Remus said. “I know the Mask Guy thing really sucked, but you have to look at the facts.

“I am looking at the facts,” Janus insisted, “and the facts are, he’s fucking with me.”

“You don’t know what Mask Guy looks like,” Remus said. “You didn’t see Nick take the time bomb, he has an ID from this time period and a roommate in this time he called on the phone, and he legitimately seems to not know what any of us are talking about.”

“Did you even listen to our conversation?” Janus asked. “He was screwing with me the entire time!”

“Janus…” Remus said.

“What?” Janus said, narrowing his eyes at Remus’s tone.

“I know you recently had a bad experience, but not everyone who flirts with you is doing it out of evil.”

Janus’s mouth hung open for a few seconds. “That’s what you got out of our conversation?”

“He called you Love Bug.”

Janus felt his face heat a bit at the reminder. “That’s not… I. I’m stealing your cat and then never speaking to you again.”

Remus laughed. “Ah,” he said. “Young lust.”

Janus elbowed him roughly in the side. “No!”

“Yes!” he crooned, pleased.

“You are the worst partner,” Janus hissed. “When I’m right you owe me 10 loafs of your fresh bread.”

“Branching out from poptarts?” Remus asked.

Janus shook his head. He still wasn’t happy about the state of things, but he could feel himself cooling down a bit.

Khalid came out of the interrogation room after a few minutes, leaving Pat with Remy. “What was that?” she asked him.

“He got under my skin,” Janus said.

“We’ll talk about it later,” she said. “For now, we’re letting him go and then going back to looking for the bomb like we’re meant to be.”

“Fine,” Janus relented. “Just do me the favor of tagging him before he leaves. Just that. I beg of you.”

“Sure,” she agreed. “If it will calm you down.”

He nodded.

“Then, let’s go,” she said. When they met back up with Remy and Pat, he saw Khalid make the subtle gesture that would tag Pat like they would have for the Millennium Birds. Pat sent him what could pass as a sweet smile if Janus didn’t know better. Then, they walked him outside, leaving Remy on clean-up duty for the make-shift security office.

“So, I’m free to go?” Pat asked. His bemused expression edged far too much on the side of amused verses confused for Janus’s taste.

“You are,” Khalid said. “Have fun at the festivities.”

His hands went flapping about. “Oh, you too!” he said. “Well, I guess you’re working, but you can have fun anyways, I’m sure.”

“We’ll do our best,” she said.

He gave her a blinding smile and reached forward to shake her hand enthusiastically. Janus rolled his eyes and looked up at the heavens. “It was nice to meet you!” he said, “and you too, Agent Clockson!” He turned to meet Janus’s eyes. “Macy Misa.”

Janus pressed his lips together.

Then, Pat turned and walked away.

“Well, now that we’re done with that,” Khalid said, turning to them. “We have only a few more hours before midnight and we really need to find the time bomb.

“Oh,” Pat called. He’d paused a few yards away and turned back to them. “Thanks for letting me go so easily by the way,” he said, “and just in the Nick,” he winked, “of time too.” Janus narrowed his eyes at him. He smiled back. “Wrist check,” he said holding up his arm to show off the timepiece there. Khalid immediately looked down at her own wrist just to see that the one timepiece that could move through the time lock was no longer there. Pat made a gesture and disappeared.

All three of them stared at the spot he’d been for a long moment.

Janus was the one to speak first. “I want. The yellow. To be erased. From my record.”

Want to read more? Click below!

AO3 Part 9

#sanders sides #janus sanders #patton sanders #remus sanders #moceit #folds in time universe #folds in paper #adriana writes #not pieces fic #logan sanders #analogical #virgil sanders #time travel #bomb mentioned #roman sanders #creativitwins

[jeyneofpoole]

thanks @felonyofasshai for tagging bb luv u sam. the three heads of the idiot stick together.

Name: Rowan/Ro

Gender: Girl!

Star Sign: Taurus babyyyy

Height: 5 feet 1 inches yes i say it like that to make me seem taller

Birthday: It’s ~sometime~ in may

Favorite bands: The Crane Wives, The Longest Johns, The Orion Experience, and The Oh Hellos 

Favorite Solo Artists: Hozier, i suppose? i like bands more

Song stuck in my head: It Will Come Back by Hozier lmao

Last Movie: Captain America: Winter Soldier (my dad wanted to watch it w/ me and it’s pretty gay which is neat)

Last show: Um... fuckin.... breaking bad???? i think???

When did I create this blog: erm maybe like 3 months ago ish??

What do I post: shitposts about the gays of asoiaf 

Other blogs: @greekphilosophress is, unfortunately, the first blog i made so it’s my defacto main, which is annoying.

Do I get asks: not enough!!!!! ask me things!!!!!

Why I chose this url: it’s the truth

Following: lots n lots of people 

Followers: 130

Average hours of sleep: like 5 or smth????

Lucky number: 13 and 3 (i know i’m edgy djdjdjdjdj)

Instruments: an unhealthy amount of rage overflowing from my tiny little heart that i can shape into a flute and play to summon spite-gremlins to enact my petty gay will. also i sing sometimes.

What I’m currently wearing: a shirt and pants?

Dream job: classics professor or teen psychologist

Dream trip: i wanna go to GREECE 

Favorite food: for a meal, a rainbow roll. for just regular food, vegetarian sausage. that shit slaps.

Nationality: american :(

Favorite song: ummmm that’s a hard one lemme list a few? Here I Am, The Crooked The Cradle, and Pretty Little Things, all by The Crane Wives!

Last book I read: i legit cannot remember but i’m currently re-reading affc so there’s that

Top three fictional universes I’d like to live in: ummmm im not gonna say westeros because i would fucking DIE and i’m hyperfixating so that’s the only thing i can think about. i don’t know maybe i’ll regress back to middle school and say percy jackson i don’t have any other ones yes i was that kid no i dont want to talk about it

im gonna tag @jumbojaime and @littlerockerao3 (char i know sam tagged you but i wanted to as well for consistency because three heads of the idiot u feel me?)

#asoiaf #tag game #asoiaf fandom

[snarkwrites]

Title: snowbound pt 1 of 2/3

Theme: snow

Fandom / Character(s):Ben Solo/Kylo Ren x Earth!FemaleReader.

Warnings: First up. I preface with two strong warnings.. I am not a medical professional in any capacity. Second, I am only kind of a casual Star Wars fan, so Idk how things work in their universe as compared to here on Earth. The actual warnings here are blood!tw and injury!tw. Again, I remind you. I am neither a veteran star wars fan nor a medical professional. So, some things may be entirely wrong. And Ben Solo is most likely written totally OOC as he is not a character I am used to writing, by any stretch although i love him with my whole heart... Anyway... The warnings are: Blood!TW, Injury!TW, OOC fandom character and a strong dose of hurt comfort / fluff in the next parts I kind of hope i get to do for this. This part is so long because I was using it to sort of set things in motion..

Word Count: 2k. Listen, I was setting things up and got carried away, rip me.

Listen... You all just don’t fucking understand how much I love Kylo/Ben... I know, I know, he’s a bad guy. Anyway, this is me doing something I’ve literally been dying to do, a scenario in which Ben somehow winds up Earthbound just in time for the holidays...This is my daily entry for my bb @champbucks over on the @12daysofchristmas challenge blog...

OH YEAH.. for the sake of a timeline here.. This part takes place around the end of November/beginning of December. Part two will take place two and a half weeks later and part three will take part a day or so, maybe two, after part two. Trust me, this needed to be said.

Also, again.. I made the banner for this. Don’t steal or repost.

TAGGING:

So, here’s the thing.. There really isn’t anyone on my Star Wars masterlist and like... I haven’t really written anything Star Wars related... Until now. So, if you want to be tagged in my star wars stuff, click the little link below or send me an ask/dm on my main and I’ll happily add you.

@champbucks and @12daysofchristmas

[ about my writing | masterlist | multifandom tag doc ]

“What the hell?”

The boom from outside had the windows to my grandma’s old cabin rattling and I quickly sat up just in time to look out the window at the head of my bed to see a bright flash of blue as it disappeared beyond the treeline across the road.

,, Curiosity killed the cat, remember?” my brain nagged at me the whole time I was slipping on the jeans I’d worn earlier in the day. That nagging only grew as I slipped on my warmest boots and by the time I had my daddy’s old shotgun loaded and I was heading out the door, I wasn’t entirely sure if going over to see what the hell was going on in the woods across from my house was a good idea or not.

I mean yeah, the odds were that some idiot kids were racing around Deadman’s curve and one crashed.. Or a drunk trying to drive home on an icy road hit black ice and lost control… At the thoughts of what probably happened, I stopped in the middle of the road and felt my back pocket.

As soon as my fingers grazed the cool weight of my cell phone, I took a deep breath and started to walk towards the woods on the other side of the little country road.

My eyes were adjusting to the semi darkness, so when the wrecked craft came into view just a few feet into the trees, I had to stop and really stare at it, rubbing my eyes.

“What the fuck?” the words left my mouth in a soft gasp as all the breath left my body. I knew exactly what I had to be looking at by now… And rather than turn and walk away, back to my grandma’s cabin, I kept moving closer. Pushing through bushes and trees and overgrown weeds and dead grass as I made my way towards the clearing to get a better look.

I knew it probably wasn’t a good idea, because everybody knows there’s a damn good reason we have a military base on the outskirts of our little town and we all know they’re not testing weather balloons out there.. I knew that if this were a military thing, there would most likely be a cover-up.

So I did what anybody would and I pulled out my camera, recording the crash site and taking a few pictures of the craft as I walked around it slowly.

I froze completely when I heard a wounded groan.

Now, I’d assumed that whoever crashed whatever this… Thing.. Was… they’d gotten the hell out of dodge as soon as the crash was over.

,,Or they were dead on contact because the impact was really hard.’’ my brain finished. I glanced all around the clearing that the craft crashed in the middle of. Everything was silent. Almost deathly silent, as if something had come along and sucked up all the sounds and background noise. I shivered and hugged myself, swearing under my breath about not having the presence of mind to stop for a jacket or grab my first aid kit on my way over here...

A scream died on my lips when I felt a strong grip wrap around my ankle as soon as I stepped closer to the wrecked craft, bending down to peer inside, my phone out and ready to call for emergency services.

When I looked down, after I dove away as quickly as possible, of course, I swallowed hard and tried to find words.

“Help.”

As he said it, I got the distinct feeling that this was not a word he enjoyed saying, not at all.

I could only nod and when my brain finally felt it had enough time to process what was going on, it kicked into overdrive.

“Can you pull yourself out?” I finally managed to ask the question.

“Trapped.” the word came on the heels of words that were totally unfamiliar to me, yet somehow I knew instinctively that this guy had to be swearing up a storm and in immense pain.

I guess tonight’s one of the few reasons I’m glad I went into the medical field instead of becoming a horror novelist or a starving artist like I used to want to when I was a kid. Tonight my years of school and training and the experience I’d gotten thus far as an intern at the hospital in town was all going to come in handy.

Because the lack of military vehicles or police by now only meant one thing to me.

The military either didn’t know yet so this gave me a chance to finally do something about the way they were polluting the water supply and making people sick or… Nobody knew about this.

Laughing softly at the thought that I might’ve stumbled onto an alien crash landing, I bent lower, peering into the smashed window and I dug around in my jeans pocket until I found my dad’s old pocket knife.

“I’m gonna.. I’ll try to cut you out, okay?” I muttered. He grunted, a light pained scowl playing at gorgeous and full lips.

I leaned inside a little, swearing as I felt shards of glass.. Or whatever the material was on the windows, digging into my hand..As soon as I got a good look, I realized that he wasn’t trapped by a harness or belt of any kind.

He was trapped because when the craft he was inside made impact, the damn thing basically folded like a soda can. I winced. Drawing a few sharp and shaky breaths, the fog from their warmth lingering in the air as I tried to stop and think.

I should be calling EMTS. I should be leaving him here because everything I’ve ever learned about accidents of any kind clearly predicates that if someone is hurt and you don’t know how fucking bad, you don’t move them.

But here’s the problem with that knowledge and my current situation… If I didn’t do something, then either that military installation was going to get away with the shit they’ve been doing the past few years since they mysteriously popped up on the outskirts, show up to finish this guy off in the time it took me to get help on the way… And then they might just do me in also because I had evidence and proof that they were up to something shady out there... Or… They’d find him and take him back to the base and do God only knew what to him.

,, but he might be an alien…” my brain gave me the gentle reminder and the counter argument arose almost immediately, ,, he can’t be. He looks like I do. He looks human. I can’t just turn my back and leave the guy… If he is military and they do realize what’s happened, he’s as good as dead… And I cannot live with someone’s blood on my hands.” 

And with that thought, I proceeded to try and figure out the safest way I could to go about breaking years of protocol that had been drilled into my brain.

I started with the obvious. I leaned in, my body brushing against him as I raised my hand, pressing my fingers to his neck, feeling for the jugular so I could attempt to see if his pulse was steady.

He groaned quietly and I explained in a hushed tone, trying to keep him calm, “I’m trying to take your pulse… to make sure it’s okay to move you if I can get you loose. Because we’re gonna have to get you out of here somehow.”

He merely nodded. I almost asked if he spoke the same language as me, but that was a later question. I was still operating under the assumption that I was working with a very small time frame, either way. 

Because even if the military didn’t know what happened out here, they would soon.. Because this just felt like something they would be aware of or become aware of. And I wasn’t going to let them get their hands on the guy, especially when he was injured and far too weak to fight them off.

Or so I thought…

,, where the hell am I? What happened? Need to.. Get out of here. Get back to the others.”

I heard it so clearly that for a second or so, I thought he might’ve actually spoken. I answered quietly, “You’re in Montana. Apparently, you crashed whatever the hell this thing is. If you’ll be still and stay calm sir, I’m trying to get you out of here. We have to hurry. If those damn military guys realize what happened and come down, we’re both probably fucked.” and continued checking him over.

I dreaded what I was about to have to try and do, because if there was any internal injury, I was about to make it worse. The goal, I decided mentally, was to move him as carefully but as quickly as possible.

He gritted his teeth and gave another long and wounded grunt as he seemed to pick up on my rush and started trying to maneuver his legs free from the part holding them in place.

“Okay, whoa. Easy, sir. Stop moving, damn it!” I said frantically, eyes widening as they settled on the dark depths of his eyes.

He glared at me, speaking in a calm but firm tone. “I have to get out of here.”

“And if you’ll go about this carefully, like I said before, you might actually live through this. I don’t know if you’ve been injured internally or not. I won’t know how severe your injuries are until I’m back at my cabin. I’m hoping that since you’re vocal enough to be an entire stubborn ass right now, that you’re really not seriously injured.” I snapped back because he’d snapped at me just seconds before.

He eyed me, almost wary. Almost as if he weren’t entirely sure whether to trust me. But I stared him down, firmly as I could. He managed to get his legs free and clear of the way they’d been pinned somehow and if I hadn’t thought the guy might be strong as an ox when he grabbed my ankle before, I now knew that fact beyond a shadow of doubt.

Oh, he grunted and groaned and growled in pain the entire time, but he seemed to be entirely too stubborn for his own good, too hell bent on getting himself out.

Once he was slowly pulling himself through the busted glass and lying on the snow, I cleared my throat. He winced and gritted his teeth as he pulled himself to a sitting position in the snow. The form fitting black garment he wore on his upper body was shredded in a place or two from the way he’d pulled himself through the window of the wreckage.

“Do you think you can walk? Because we need to figure something out.” I asked the question as I worked on keeping calm. But I was in a bit of a panic see, because internal injuries are difficult to spot and often, they go unnoticed until the person injured either dies or suffers massive complications. And I knew that me, moving him as little as I had and then him freeing himself from the wreckage somehow and all that movement… It was tempting fate, in my own opinion, but I was that determined not to let all this be covered up or to have this man’s blood on my hands.

He looked as if he were going to attempt it and I stood, holding my hands out to him to at least try to help him. But after the second or third attempt, the fight or flight response within me kicked in and I was… Growing impatient to get him indoors and both of us hidden away somewhere safely.

“I’ve got an ATV up at the cabin. It’s literally just across the road at the top of the hill… I need you to stay here and stay hidden. Are we clear?” I didn’t mean to bark it at him like an order, I guess I just assumed at the time that if he were a soldier who worked that base, he was used to it.

He bit his lip and eyed me.

“Don’t tell me what to do.” that firm tone, I won’t even begin to go into the effect it had on me, but I was the one who wasn’t injured and didn’t possibly have the US Armed Forces about to pop up at any second, so I had to act as if nothing he did or said had any sort of effect on me at all.

And god was it ever hard!

“Which one of us crashed a fucking piece of government property and is injured, sir?” my hand dragged through damp hair and tugged a little as I tapped my boot against the crunchy snow covered forest floor.

“ The ship is mine.” he corrected. I eyed him with a brow raised.

“Whatever you say. Either way, arguing semantics with you is not getting either of us to my cabin.”

The searing pain that shot through my palm as I rubbed it against my jeans had me grimacing, but I tried to ignore it. He stared me down, head tilted slightly.

“Alright. I’m going now.” I turned on my heels and I bolted up the hillside, hurrying so fast across the slippery pavement separating me from my cabin that I nearly slipped a time or two and I finally got to the shed that I’d parked the ATV under after riding it along the creekbank earlier to look for fallen trees I could use as firewood.

The keys were still in the ignition. I jumped on and fired it up, biting back a pained whimper as I curled my hand around the handlebar and that only put more pressure on the wound that I didn’t even realize I’d gotten trying to help the man out.

I shoved out the pain and focused on getting back across the road as quickly as possible. And in the back of my mind, yes.. I did find it more than a little odd that nobody had come down. The neighbors a mile away from me have to have heard… Then I remembered that Herb and Isla were out of town, in Kentucky with their oldest daughter and her family for the holidays.

,, c’mon lady luck, don’t fail me now.” the thought came and went and I took a shortcut through the treeline that I knew would put me straight in front of the crash site. Now I just had to hope to God that the guy was okay and he hadn’t left the scene.

Right as the crashed ship came into view, I spotted him trying yet again to use the wreckage to pull himself to his feet and I rushed over.

“You’re a stubborn one.”

“Trying to..” he took a few heavy breaths and grumbled before continuing, “Get back home.”

“And you can do that.. The second you’re at least partially healed, sir. I’m gonna…” I trailed off, awkwardly positioning myself against his side so that he could use me as a crutch and lean on me to get to the ATV so I could take him back to my place, “Lean on me.”

But the guy was an actual fucking giant.

And normally, in a non life or death situation, I’d have been absolutely mesmerized by… Pretty much everything about him. But tonight, I was too focused. Too intent on getting both of us to safety.

,, daddy always told me curiosity killed the cat. Now look what I’m smack in the middle of.” I thought to myself, grunting a little as he leaned into me heavily, my arm around his lower back and his arm around my shoulders as he clumsily tried to make his way to the ATV.

Once I got on and he managed to get himself on behind me, I took off. “Might wanna cover your face.”

And a minute or so later, as I parked the ATV right at my porch steps to make it a little easier to get him inside, he eyed me warily again, this time questioning, “Why are you doing this? Don’t you know who I was?”

“What do you mean was?” I asked the question, all the worst possible scenarios flashing through my mind. And that adrenaline surge from earlier that I had yet to come down from? A little more panicked.

He muttered something and shrugged, putting a shoulder around me again as he grunted and managed to get himself standing.

The light overhead on my porch caught on his bloodied pants leg and I grimaced. “Well, pretty sure that’s a broken leg.”

I kicked open the front door with my foot and helped him into my living room, letting him sink down onto the couch. After I got him all settled in, I rushed around my pantry gathering up my medical supplies that I kept on hand.

And I wandered back into the living room, taking a seat on the handmade heavy wooden coffee table in front of my old plaid couch. “You’re gonna have to… Take off the shirt..”

He eyed me, this curious gleam in his eyes that quickly vanished when I firmly repeated myself.

His eyes caught on my palm and he eyed my own smaller wound, then fixed his eyes on me. “You’re dripping blood on the floor.”

“And I’ll worry about that as soon as I’m totally certain that aside from a possibly broken leg and a few cuts and bruises, you’re fine.” I insisted, a firm tone of my own as I started to tug the ripped fabric up and over his body. I grimaced at the older scars and bit my lip as I surveyed the bruises already starting to form against pale skin. “Are you in any pain at all when you breathe?”

Bear in mind here. I am still only just an intern. So I haven’t actually had to deal with a whole lot in the way of injuries. The most I’m currently allowed to do is make rounds and do consults, checking in on patients to let their actual physician know what they might need or how they might be feeling on that particular day.

So this was all trial by fire for me.

One glance at his well muscled body had me definitely continuing to think that he was one of the guys from the military base and I made a mental note to maybe NOT turn down Carrie if she offered to set me up with one of the guys her fiance knew in the future as I had been doing.

He cleared his throat.

“A little.”

“Most likely dealing with a bruised rib or two. I’ll wrap those for now.. I’ll call in a favor with Dr.Albertson in the morning...I don’t think he’ll tell anybody.”

The man nodded, agreeing.

I went back to cleaning and patching the wounds I could patch and then I turned my attention to his leg.

“I’m going to have to cut your pants leg…”

“Or I could take off my pants.” 

I eyed him as soon as he said it because truth be told, not only did he have me flustered in saying it, but also, I couldn’t entirely tell if he were being helpful at last, or if he were being a flirt.

As if to prove he was serious, he rose up slightly, unfastening the black pants he wore, working them down his hips and I have literally NEVER… ever.. Turned away and tried to still catch a peek as I did in that moment.

“Christ. You could’ve given me a second to turn.”

“Why?” he tapped my shoulder as he asked the question and I turned around.

 My breath caught in my throat and I quickly had to refocus myself. Because if I thought taking his shirt off was a bit of a distraction… Then him sitting there pantsless was.. A bit more.

I bit my lip and my eyes settled on the lower portion of his leg. The swelling was bad. The leg was definitely broken. I sighed and clucked my tongue, shaking my head. 

“I’m gonna have to call in that favor with the old man now. Because this can’t wait to be looked at. And I need to be sure you’ve got no internal injuries.” I stood abruptly, nearly doing so fast enough that I almost landed on top of the guy.

He eyed me and I pulled back and away from him, raising to a full stand. Walking quickly into my kitchen and sliding the pocket door closed behind me.

“Hey, doc? I know it’s late, but if you get this, can you please swing by my grandma’s cabin on your way home tonight? I need your help. And I need someone who can be trusted to stay quiet on what you’re gonna see.”

I’d just walked back into the living room when my cell phone rang in my hand.

“What’s wrong?”

“I’d rather explain when you get here, doc.”

“I’m on my way now. Just grabbing my equipment.”

“Thank you, doc.”

“I always told you and I promised your grandma when you were knee high to a grasshopper. If you ever need me, kid, I’ll be there.”

I hung up and sank back down onto the coffee table, letting a deep breath escape my mouth. The adrenaline was starting to wear off finally and all I could do now was… Process everything. Try to figure out just how far up the proverbial creek I might’ve gotten myself.

The man shattered the silence in the room by clearing his throat and reaching out. I eyed him, a brow raised.

“What are you doing?”

“If you’re not going to do something about your hand, I’m going to.”

“It’s fine. It’s a little scrape.”

“There’s blood caked on it.”

Something in the look he gave me had me extending my hand. It almost felt as if I wasn’t in control of myself, though I didn’t realize this until much later…

His larger hand gripped mine carefully, holding it on bare legs.

“You still haven’t put any pants on, what the hell..”

“If you called that person and they’re going to come and examine me, doesn’t make sense to.” he didn’t look up as he answered, instead, focusing on swiping the cloth that I’d gotten as a spare in case I needed a clean one for his wounds. When the light overhead caused something in the wound to glisten, I tried to yank my hand free in a hurry, but that sensation was back in my mind and his grip on my wrist tightened to a point where I couldn’t move.

“Be still.”

That firm tone again, honestly, fuck him for it.

“Fine. But I feel like I should remind you, I am a medical professional. I could get this looked at when Doc arrives.”

“Well, I’m doing it now.” he stated calmly, as if I had no say in the matter. And when I opened my mouth to argue, to insist I could just wait the ten minutes it would take Doc to get to my cabin, nothing came out.

He gave me this smug look as he took my tweezers and worked them into the cut, making me bite my lip and take a few deep breaths.

When he finally got the shard free, I pulled my hand back, cradling it against me.

He eyed me, amused it seemed.

“I’ll clean it out and wrap it now, thanks.” I mumbled in a softer tone, giving him a small smile and thanking him.

Now, we just had to wait on Doc to arrive...

#12daysofchristmas #12 days of christmas #ben solo fanfiction #ben solo fanfic #ben solo imagine #ben solo imagines #trapped on earth au #my writing; ben solo #my fics; ben solo #my moodboards; ben solo

[lacontroller1991]

However I Want (Stephen Holder x F!Reader)

Requested by @loverhymeswith : “A day at the zoo is what you need.” (60) For Stephen Holder

Prompt List

Main Master List

Warnings: language, suggestive dialogue

“Mother fucker!” You slam the book down on your desk, causing Holder to jump from his seat and eye you wearily.

“Damn mamacita, chill the f out,” you scowl at Holder’s tone before slumping into your seat, throwing your head into your arms and groaning. Stephen raises an eyebrow. “Dare I ask?”

“Oakes piled on another fucking homicide,” you grumble through your arms.

“And?” You pick your head up.

“And? Holder, we’re already drowning in reports and two other homicides. We’re working over time and not getting home til 3 am each night, surviving on vending machine snacks and sodas. I don’t even remember the last time I had a decent night of sleep or an actual warm, hot, meal,” you rant and Holder shrugs, pulling out a Funyun and inspecting it before placing it in his mouth.

“You know what you need?” He chews with his mouth open, propping his feet up on the desk.

“What?”

“A day at the zoo is what you need.” “A zoo?” He shrugs, crumpling up the now empty bag and tossing it in the trash.

“Could be fun. You need a stress relief and zoos are fun.” “That’s not the type of relief I need, Stephen.” Holder’s throat goes dry at your lewd suggestion. 

“Oh shit, look at you go. Go get some girl!” He plays it off with humor, but his facade immediately falters when you lock the door and shut the blinds.

“I need said relief now,” Holder absentmindedly wipes his palms on his pants as you saunter over. “How are you gonna do that?” He stutters, cheeks burning red as you climb onto his lap.

“However I want.”

General Tag List: @marvelousmermaid @yelenas-lova @himbovillain-anon @babblydrabbly @a-reader-and-a-writer @fairchildflag @siliethkaijuy @infatuatedjanes @niki-xie

Joel Related Tag List: @aestheticallywinchester @loverhymeswith @xoxabs88xox @t-i-n-y-d-i-n-o @witchygagirl @the1redrose @ratcatcher2world @green-socks @heart-0n-fire @weallhaveadestiny @yourjacketisnowdry @rachelh1992 @tompetersebbuckyhazleo @a-girl-who-loves-disney @knivesareout @bubblegloopswampwitch @waspswidows @burntghoost @mattymurdocksbitch @katjnordstrom96 @bb-skyrunner

#Stephen holder #Stephen Holder x reader #Joel kinnaman #the killing #writing prompts #writing requests #lacontroller1991 #Stephen holder x you

[savemesomenachos]

Hii I'm not sure if you're taking any requests right now but I would love to request Sebastian Stan meeting the reader's cat for the first time (I know he's allergic to cats in real life but let's pretend he's not here 😊). And the cat seems to get attached to him and cuddles with him whenever he's around.

Thank you 😊

So I have a cat and I would love if Sebastian Stan got cosy with her🤌🏽✨To honour my little fluffball, imma name the cat Molly.

Cat Heaven

Pairing: Sebastian Stan x GN! Reader

Warnings: fluff

Word Count: 793 (sorry it’s so smol)

*here’s a picture of my catto for visual aid and frankly because this picture is so cute🤷🏽‍♀️*

Y/n’s POV:

“How did I not know you have a cat this whole time?” Sebastian says, already slipping his shoes off as Molly saunters over to us with her tail swishing high in the air.

“Well, you’ve never come over and I didn’t think you like cats to be honest,” I say, tossing my keys into that ugly bowl near the entryway that I got for Christmas.

“Yeah, me either. Until of course, I saw her,” he says, plopping down on the with Molly sniffing his sock clad feet. Her tail doesn’t stop swishing nervously the whole time but once I give her a soft scratch on the head, she nuzzles into Sebastian’s knees.

“Aww look, she likes you,” I say, cooing at the sight of both my babies, cuddling on the floor of my entryway.

“Of course, she does. She has good taste,” he says, his fingers inching towards Molly at a slow pace to not startle her. She looks at his hand with apprehension at first and with a final swish of her tail, she walks away.

A pout takes over Sebastian’s lips which makes me giggle so hard, I bend over to clutch my stomach.

“Yeah, yeah. Laugh it off. She’s going to love me eventually,” he says, climbing to his feet, poking a finger in my ribs as he passes by.

“Yeah, she will,” I say, pushing his fingers away with a lingering smile on my lips.

~✩☾✩☾✩~

“Seriously? The Princess and the Frog? Again?” Sebastian asks, settling next to me on the sofa, pulling my feet across his lap and draping a throw over both of our bodies.

“It gets better every time Bash, I promise,” I whine, grabbing a handful of popcorn and stuffing it in my mouth.

“Will you slow down on the popcorn? The movie hasn’t even started yet,” he chides playfully, his lips pulling up into a smirk.

“But I want to sing the songs and I can’t do that if I’m eating popcorn,” I say, grabbing another handful anyway.

“I don’t even know why I fight it anymore,” he says, turning to face the TV again with a sigh and a smile on his lips.

I tilt my head up and press a grateful kiss on the corner of his lips and whisper a soft ‘thank you’ in his ear. He chuckles lightly and wraps an arm around my waist while cuddling me closer into his chest. The movie begins to play, and I notice Molly in the corner of my eye, making her way towards us. She hops up on the arm of the sofa near Sebastian’s hand and I try to stifle a giggle as his hand twitches with the need to pet her.

“Don’t move. Let her do her thing. If you make sudden movement, she’ll leave,” I whisper in his ear as she leans forward to nose at his popcorn coated hand. After she’s had a sniff of his hand, she leans further into his body and starts to sniff at his sweater.

“Oh my god Y/n, it’s happening!” he squeals in my ear with all the excitement of a child. I muffle a laugh behind my palm but compose myself when he glares.

‘I’m sorry! Your excitement is so cute, I couldn’t help myself,” I say, wrapping an around his waist.

Before he could respond, Molly hops onto his lap where she settles with a yawn. She nuzzles her head into his sweater and with a final stretch, she drifts off.

“Oh my fucking god, this is actually happening. Pinch me,” he whispers aggressively in my ear which makes Molly shift an inch.

“I’m glad both my babies like each other. I was nervous at first, but I guess y’all are going to get along just fine,” I whisper back, planting a kiss on his stubble laced cheek.

“I did tell you she has good taste,” he says cheekily, pressing a kiss to my hair.

“She gets it from me. Obviously,” I say with a roll of my eyes which he reciprocates with a chuckle.

“Hey,” he says suddenly, after a while of quietly watching the movie. With a free hand, he tilts my head up to his. “I love you.”

My lips pull into a smile and a blush engulfs my cheeks in red while I nuzzle into his shoulder.

“I love you too. Both of you,” I say, carding a hand through Molly’s soft fur.

“I don’t think Molly and I are there yet Y/n. Seems awfully fast to say ‘I love you’ after only one day spent together. I mean this is our first cuddle fest and so many things could go wr-”

“Oh my god, shut up.”

“Ummm rude… Still love you though.”

“Yeah, me too.”

TAGLIST:-

Permanent: @julyvegan @tenaciousperfectionunknown@mysweetlittledesire @bbl32 @noshame-bb @cece5 @white-wolf1940 @marvelfansworld @jassiejj2118 @christowhore @sia2raw @amelia-song-pond @lovewolfspirit @iwannabekilledtwice @mollyscoffee @sohoseb @thetattletaleheart @thesparklynavillera @waywardwifey @the-lonely-poet-loves-to-weep @honeymarvel@hart-failure @Clints-worldavengers

*if your username is in italics and with a strikethrough, it means I couldn’t tag you for some reason*

If you wanna be tagged in my works, lemme know here

You can find my other works on my Main Masterlist.

#sebastian stan #sebastian x reader #seb stan #sebastian stan x you #sebastian stan fanfiction #sebastian stan imagine #sebastian stan oneshot #sebastian stan fluff #sebastian stan fic #sebastian imagine #sebastian stan x reader #james buchanan barnes #bucky barnes #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #buckyreader #bucky barnes x you #bucky imagine #bucky fluff #fluff prompts #genre: fluff #mcu fluff #fluff #oneshot #savemesomenachos asks #fic asks #answered asks #asks #asks and replies #writing asks

[septiembrre]

Rio Headcanons

Tagged by the wonderful @foxmagpie

What are your headcanons about Rio’s family? Siblings? Parents? Lifestyle growing up?

I really love the idea of Rio having been raised by a supportive, healthy, loving, beautiful nuclear family. I personally have imagined him with siblings -- sisters! Cousins! I think his respect for women and their power has to come from somewhere and it’s probably a matriarch. He has a strong handle on parenting and I think he must be modeling his own caregivers... 

But, @foxmagpie pointed out the black & white vintage photos in his closet...  Obviously, I had seen them but I just understood them to be like my family’s own old photographs. I had thought -- they’re just his ancestors, probably his grandparents or bisabuelos. But, then I realized there’s no sign of sisters, any siblings or of his parents in his apartment.  The Good Girls set design team loves a ridiculously terrible photo prop (hello old Dean/Beth family photos) and you know they would have been down to make the same thing for Rio... but alas. All we have are those photos of Rio + Marcus, an ambiguous baby picture and the black & white photo and it’s probably intentional. 

I come from a small, atypical Mexican-American family structure myself, but I feel for him. I always headcanoned that he had a dad who had died when he was a kid or a teenager and that maybe his mom was still around and involved in his & Marcus’ life. But, quizas no? 

I’m curious about how much Beth knows now about Rio’s family structure from Rhea. She knows Rhea’s a single mom, and her co-parent was out of the picture for a spell. But, I think Rhea would have also mentioned involvement or support from Marcus’s other set of abuelos/her former in-laws? 

So... who were Rio’s caregivers? His grandparents? No sisters??? We should all collectively DM Manny and ask him to share his own Rio backstory headcanons. Haha, watch -- the show is totally going to ret-con this in Season 4. 

It’s interesting overall how the writer’s deploy family world-building for the characters. Dean’s mom is the only one on-screen -- and Dean’s parents overall have gotten more build out than any other family history combined (wild!). I know that’s influenced by them casting Jessica Walter who is phenom, but expanding out the family histories is such a rich area for the show creators to play in if they choose to go there. All of our main protagonists have deceased parents. I think it’s been a choice on the show to play into a lack of safety net and support for the women. For better or for worse, Beth, Ruby & Annie are at a point where they are it for their children.  

That being said -- I would love to meet Stan’s parents! And I would love to get information about Rio’s coming-into-crime especially as a parallel to Beth’s experience. It’s the parallel we would all want and the parallel we deserve. (Dear show, Stop with the Boland family parallels, PLEASE! If I have to hear about Dean’s scummy dad one more time--). 

But, yes, I’m very invested in Beth & Annie’s, Ruby’s, Stan’s, and, of course, Rio’s families and hope we get to see more characterization unfold over the next seasons.

What are your headcanons for Rio and Rhea’s relationship? How do you think they met, at what point did Rhea learn about his work, was Rio in love with her, etc.?

I’m so curious about what attracts Rio to people/his love interests. It’s becoming clear what attracts him to Beth...  But, I wonder about has attracted him to others. 

While Beth & Rhea are both moms (haha, and beautiful, and well-endowed with the boobs), that’s in the present time on the show -- Rio was attracted to Rhea before she was a mom. I wonder what he looks for? What did he see in Dylan? 

Hmmm. 

What are your headcanons about Rio’s and Mick’s relationship? Did they meet through crime? Are they lifelong friends?

I want them to be childhood friends!!!! I want that so badddddd!!! 

Oh, god, can you imagine a flashback to them young in crime?! Like late teens or early 20s? Ha, as a parallel to the Beth + Ruby scene/origin story? I would die. DIE.

Do you think Rio’s been arrested before Beth got him arrested in 1.10? When, and what for?

Ha, I don’t think he’s been arrested for anything significant.  He’s plenty sanctimonious about keeping his name out of everything. 

If Rio weren’t a crime boss, what jobs do you think he’d be good at? Why?

I mean he’s probably great a math, phenom at managing a huge team/multiple business ventures, and super charismatic. What couldn’t he do? 

I think he was probably pushed to crime because of lack of opportunity for MOC and the need for money. This does make me think he came up poor. But, I think he stayed in crime because he’s so good at it, and likes the flexibility, the creativity, the $$$, and the power. 

I think he could go legit and still be pulling in decent buck with all of his business fronts but he doesn’t choose to. 

What are Rio’s hobbies outside of work and Marcus? What do you think he’d get up to on a day with absolutely no responsibilities?

He’s obviously an art heaux. The real question is WHAT’S HIS MEDIUM???? If he actually produces art like the abstract stuff up in his house, I would scream. I can see him being into photography when the mood strikes him and he has time. #hipster

I like the idea of Rio taking cooking classes in some sort of exclusive, foodie way (1:1 with a chef, or a compa who is a fly line cook). 

We know he plays tennis and I also imagine he boxes and works out at the type of high-end gym I could only dream of. It probably never smells of sweat, and all the machines are top-end, brand new. I mentioned in a post a while ago that I wasn’t sure if I wanted Rio to be my boyfriend, my bff, or to adopt me -- and I stand by it.  

Who do you think Dylan is to Rio (a friend, an associate, someone he was dating?) and why?

I do lean towards friend/associate/some one he’s fucked. Rio was very handsy with Dylan’s person. Obviously, in real life Manny & Adelfa are married, and I think they were leaning heavily on that intimacy in the scene. 

But Rio also didn’t kiss Dylan? Which leads me back to -- damn, Rio. You were fronting so hard. Like... that was high-school-level showmanship. 

What do you think Rio’s goals for the future are?

I think he wants to be his own boss, I think he likes being at the top of the food chain, and I think he wants to stay in crime because he still sees opportunities. 

I’m so curious as to what his $$$ bench marks are?

Beth’s are current financial security and probably college for all of her little ones. So what it for Rio?

- College for Marcus? 

- Inheritance for Marcus?

- Inheritance for all of his (nonexistent) family?

It has to be more than that. He’s already hit these benchmarks based off of the status symbols in the show (the G-Wagon, the quality of furniture in his loft, Rhea’s offer of maybe like a $5-10k check to Beth. Beth’s not family!).

What do you think Rio is bad at (cooking, dancing, singing, etc.)? How come?

I don’t think he can bake.

I also don’t seem him being good at boldly lying to people? It’s definitely not his style. He’s more of a lying by omission type of person. I don’t see him being able to spin a tale like Beth, but he also doesn’t have her white privilege/whole suburban mom aesthetic. 

Hm, I haven’t rewatched the show in a minute but I think the only time we’ve seen him boldly lie is to Beth -- when he lies about the nature of their relationship. Haha, and he’s really bad at it. Maybe this isn’t the fairest thing to judge him on. But, I think his lying relies on purposeful silence. 

Why do you think Rio is drawn to Beth?

I think Rio was drawn to Beth because she’s a survivor, she’s scrappy and she’s smart. I think he’s drawn to how quick she is on her feet. Beth has limited awareness but she can be really good at navigating what’s going for her and leveraging it for her gain (and Rio’s). I think he’s also been drawn to her because she’s a parent, and she can be really brave (I would say reckless!! Beth, stop endangering yourself!).

Beth’s also like absurdly beautiful. Christina is ethereal and they try to make her ... frumpy or something in the show. But... we have eyes. And Rio certainly has eyes for her figure, and her face, and like all the attributes and isn’t shy about letting her know. 

Why do you think Rio didn’t kill Beth? Was it their past, his present feelings for her, because he needed her business? Some combination?

I think Rio sees a kindred spirit in Beth and at this point (post-Season 3), she’s in his life now. Despite all that she’s done to him, he seems completely unable to extricate himself from her. I think this due to his present past feelings for her. The business is a bonus, a front if you will. 

In Season 2, there were these questions for Beth about whether all of it was real -- if she meant something to Rio, if Beth could walk back all of her crimes so far and retreat into anonymity. In Season 3, we know that Beth can’t let go of crime, and that she’s capable of the same dark deeds as Rio, and we know that Rio did care for her, cares for her still apparently because he’s very much in his feelings. Those Season 3 picnic table scenes? Wow. 

Ah, can you believe these two are going to like... have some sort of development in their relationship again? Obviously, it will be full of strife and conflict. But isn’t it wild that we have another Brio sex scene in store for us one day? Jenna Ban’s comment, “You don't go from having the hottest sex of your life to wanting someone dead without conflicted feelings” is just the BIGGEST TEASE.  How are our bbs going to be intimate with each other again? 

OKAY THIS ENDED UP BEING SUPER LONG. Jeez... If you’ve gotten this far, thank you for engaging with my headcanons. Lmk what you think :-) 

#ggweek2020 #rio