#I guess I write fic now
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May 9- prompt: blood- @rosekillermicrofic - words: 350
tw: blood
âBarty,â Evan hums, barely above a whisper. Barty glances up from the cauldron heâd been stirring. Honestly, he doesnât even remember what they were meant to be making, too busy watching as the particles of pixie wings had dissolved into it, turning it from a lavender to a shimmering bright green. It was truly hypnotic-
âBartemius.â
âYes, Rosie?âÂ
âIâve cut my finger.â Evan says. Heâs staring at Barty with those pale eyes again,and you see to the untrained eye, Evan had the same blank face he always did, but Barty could tell. He had an eye for idiosyncrasies. Especially when it came to Evan, whoâd tilted his chin down ever so slightly, so the sun shone through his pale blonde lashes. Evan, whoâs lip was turned down, just slightly. The slight raising of an eyebrow, so miniscule, so calculated, because Barty notices Evan, but Evan notices everything and he knew what he was doing, and Barty is a lot of things, but he is not a coward. Still, his voice comes out thicker than he means it to,
âShow me.â
Evan rests his hand on the table between them, and sure enough, at the end of one of his long, thin fingers is a small cut. Itâs not serious, just a small laceration, really not a big deal, still Barty was transfixed on it, the thin stream of blood seeping over pale, pale skin. It was beautiful. thrilling.
It was ritualistic, what happened next. Bartyâs hand slid down from where it rested on Evanâs elbow, till he was cradling Evan's wrist in his hand like a communion goblet, and lifting it to his lips. Pressing his lips over the cut. The taste of iron and salt on his tongue, and then skin. Evanâs eyes locked with his, unblinking.Â
It was over as soon as it happened, he released evanâs wrist, and as it fell it skated over his lips, his neck, his shoulder and then finally returned to the table.Â
âBetter?âÂ
The corner of Evanâs mouth twitched slightly, âmuch.â
He could still taste the blood on his lips.
#rosekiller#rosekiller microfic#bcj#barty crouch jr#evan rosier#they're fucked up little freaks#and i love them#also erm.#I guess I write fic now
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the fic i wrote on my phone getting twice the kudos as the one i spent a month on shouldn't suprise me but alas
#i GUESS i write fic now#i have a loose idea for a dw/xf crossover but#would y'all read it? đđŒđđŒ
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Part 2 of some art to @cuips-not-cute's fic Blinking Red Light. As a treatđ
#steddie#steve x eddie#steve harrington#eddie munson#eddie x steve#steddie fic#steddie art#fic rec#my art#now with 100% moređ¶ïž#i know cameras didn't film like that but otherwise it won't fit#i was supposed to write tonight but i guess the stars had other plans#this took like 2hrs because im fueled by pure fucking adhd#blinking red light#ster draws steddie
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Eddie is beginning to wonder if heâll ever reach a point where Steve couldnât reduce him to this state.
This state being⊠transfixed. Eddie is sure he must look like a lovesick cartoon. In fact, if he could manage to drag his gaze away, heâd probably find red hearts circling around his head in a halo, popping like little bubbles.
But Eddie canât move his eyes. Canât even close his mouth either.
Steveâs talking to him too, which is most definitely worse â heâs totally missing every word. He can see Steveâs lips moving, pink plush lips wrapping around words but fuck, that was a total trap because now Eddie is just looking at his lips. He tries to refocus, to listen. His eyes just wander back to what he was staring back at the first place.
Was Steve like this all the time? Just a walking around looking so damn delectable?
Or is it Eddie, just a starved man whoâs been living off stolen glances, for as long as he can remember? For once, heâs learning, heâs allowed to look.
And by God, is he looking.
Steveâs not even doing it on purpose either, which probably makes the whole thing funnier. Eddie knows what his boyfriend (boyfriend! he thinks giddily in his mind) looks like when heâs cleaned up to impress. He can spot the way Steve preens beneath Eddieâs lingering gaze.
This is not that. Today, Steve is just cleaning, a usual Sunday morning ritual.
Heâs got some old sport shorts on and heâs clearly grown a bit since he first got themâ unless Hawkins has always been giving out slutty little shorts to the basketball team (They havenât. Eddie would know if they did.)
Heâs wearing one of his wife-beater singlets too. Itâs a little on the scrappy side though, considering itâs nearly see-through with how worn it is.
Honestly, in Eddieâs humble and gay opinion, itâs stupidly hot. The dark hair dusted across of Steveâs chest is visible beneath it, the shirt showing off the shape of his broad chest. Even better, his happy trail is visible and goddamn, if that doesnât make Eddie happy, he doesnât know what will.
But itâs not even that.
Quite frankly, Eddieâs rather embarrassed that heâs basically blue-screening because Steve is pulling out the cord out from the vacuum cleaner.
But⊠but heâs yanking it up towards his chest, slow and strong repetitive motionsâ that take enough effort to make his biceps bulge with every tug.
Eddie canât stop watching. The cord must be several metres long and heâs not sure if he should be cursing it or thanking it for the view he gets; Steveâs tan arms flexing and rippling. Try as he might, Eddie canât help imagining how they must look when Steveâs got his hand arounâ
ââhello? Are you even listening to me?â
Steveâs voice cuts into Eddieâs dangerously side-tracked thoughts and he pauses his tugging at the same time. Itâs the thing that finally allows him to break his lustful stare at Steveâs arms. Oh God, he just got all hot and bothered over his boyfriend doing the vacuuming.
âHello.â Eddie says back, because that was the first word to register in his brain. âI mean- yes. Iâmââ
Eddie decides mid-sentence that heâs not getting away with the lie. He pivots. âOkay, no, I didnât hear that. Would you please tell me what you just said, oh lovely sweet man of mine?â
Ever the butterer-upper, he was. Thank God it works on Steve. He rolls his eyes a little but thereâs an adoring grin on his lips.
âMan of mine,â Steve mutters amusedly under his breath. He drops the vacuum cord on the carpeted floor and leans down the grab the handle of the vacuum. âYou just kinda froze when you came in. I was asking if everything was okay? Iâm just doing this room then Iâll be done, if you donât like the noise.â
Eddie adores that Steveâs taken his silence as though he might be afraid of the vacuum cleaner or something. He nearly snorts aloud at how far from the truth it is.
âUh huh.â Eddie nods, not bothering to correct him. He jerks a thumb behind him, pointing at nothing. âIâm just gonnaâŠâ
He spins on his heel and exits left stage, fast as he can while still looking normal (heâs unsuccessful, as he leaves a baffled Steve behind him.) As he enters into the kitchen and decides to fix them both a pot of coffee, Eddie lets himself giggle over the pure absurdity of what just happens.
Itâs mortifying. Itâs hilarious. He can never tell Steve.
Except, when Steve comes to find him in the kitchen and trades a kiss for some coffee, Eddie canât help it. All he ever wants to do is make Steve laugh.
He decides itâs worth the embarrassment when Steve laughs so hard coffee comes out his nose.
Steve teasingly promises that heâll to try be less distracting, then rescinds his words at Eddieâs abject reaction (âDonât you dare.â) looking far too smugâ in a delighted sort of way. Preening, in that way Eddie loves.
Their first kiss, as Eddie slides onto Steveâs lap and loops his arms over his shoulders, fingers dancing on those tasty arms, tastes a little bit like coffee. Their mugs grow cold, untouched.
Eddie doesnât mind â heâs too busy finding out that the rest of their kisses taste like something between sunlight and Steve.
#have; the thought iâve been having every time i vacuum#iâm one of those bitches who just like pulls out the cord the whole way when i start#and now i say so is steve#just a lil ficlet to get my writing brain up again#ruby writes steddie#steddie#steve x eddie#steddie fic#steddie ficlet#steve harrington#eddie munson#fluff#itâs always just fluff with me innit#<3#i dunno how active we all still areâŠâŠ đ§#guess iâll find out
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(read from left to right â)
đž The negligible self đž chapter 1, p.1 to 7
A comic based on a serirei (from mp100) fanfiction written by @homosexual-fanfiction (@/ch_am on Ao3)! Please go read the fanfic there too because itâs really good!!! T v T
I donât know if Iâll adapt the whole story (even if I really want to!!!) so for now Iâll try to do as much as I can, starting with that first chapter (which is already entirely storyboarded)!
Thanks to Camp for allowing me to draw their story and for helping me while designing some of the settings and Aimi <333 and thank you again for writing such an awesome and inspiring story!!
You can find Camp here too: @ch-am
I hope youâll enjoy this first bouquet of pages!!đ
Hereâs the link to the fic!!
#mob psycho 100#mp100#serirei#fanfiction#fanfic#reigen#reigen arataka#serizawa#serizawa katsuya#the negligible self#comic#when Iâm reading a fic that I really like it gives me the same kind of feels u have when youâre in love u know??#(or it makes me want to be in love at least???)#like this excitement you feel in your chest and the urge to put your face in your hands to giggle hdhdhdhjd#anyway Iâll stop being embarrassing now fanfictions are amazing I wish I was able to write stuff like that#(I guess I can draw comics instead so thatâs okay?)
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*clasps your shoulders gently and looks you straight in the eye*
Keferon. Please read Ninth by Kyn on AO3. I think you would love it very much. It has a large chapter count, but don't be intimidated, it's very easy to get into. It is currently unfinished, but is being updated regularly.
You are the seventh person that recommended this fic to me so ahahahaha yeah
Iâm doing great Help I hate some parts of it but I love the other parts Iâm spinning in the blender
âŠ..I made the moodboardâŠ.
#chapter 37#of 120 or something#I must be like 90k words in haha#large word count is not an intimidation. Itâs an invitation haha#I love the fics that I canât read in just one hour:)#I gotta say I donât enjoy the concept of making robots into organic life#itâs just my preference#seeing them as humans or animals or whatever feels so fucking wrong#the concept itself drives me off#like. Strongly#But at the same time. This fic isnât about them being âhaha cute organicsâ#itâs âoh god. I was turned into something Iâm notâ#instead of teeheee theyâre fluffy#itâs please free me from this fucking nightmare. please let me be myself again.#idk how to explain. I resonate I guess#it often feels very disturbing but the characters are also disturbed#So now Iâm kind of stuck reading this fic because I just canât stop lol#just politely skipping the parts that make me too uncomfortable#also#the body horror isâŠ.damn. Impressive. I didnât expect to read about grotesque fleshy creature turning itself inside out#itâs not even aesthetic or symbolic#it literally looks like a fucking nightmare. Which is impressive also.#the flesh is g r o s s#the beginning got me struggling and skipping#but the intermission is currently ruining my sleep schedule#oh fuckâŠ.I usually send my posts to the authors of the fics I readâŠ..but I feel like I might offend the author of Ninth if do thisâŠâŠ..#thereâs a tiny chance theyâre following meâŠ.if itâs true then I wanna tell Iâm sorry pls donât take this seriously#your fic got me waay out of my comfort zone#huge points for writing Ratchet. Drift in this fic isâŠthe grossest fucking thing I could probably imagine but Ratchet doesnât even hesitate#he helps him and he cares for him. Which isâŠ..imma be real my first instinct would be to set Drift on fire to end his misery
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ă
€â âż»  of ghosts & coincidences
-Ë âĄ â simon riley. call of duty. a family fic with simon riley ? real and not delusional at all
simon riley doesn't like public spaces-- too crowded, yet somehow too open all the same. unpredictable. it leaves you too vulnerable, leaves you dead center in the hands of danger. how deeply it keeps him on edge, jaw clenched, gaze hardened towards everyone except you. never you.
he's used to staying by your side, soldier turned shadow-- silent. observing. always looking for a means of escape in a moment's notice, should the need ever arise.
has he learned to lower his guard over the years? no, not in the slightest sense. quite the opposite, he thinks, and he'll admit it in a heartbeat.
things have changed. more to take care of, more to protect. now, you've got a little one-- she's the spitting image of him, as difficult as that is for him to comprehend at times. she's very much entirely the opposite of him in terms of personality : shy, reserved in every sense. he doesn't quite get it, doesn't quite feel like he knows how to be a dad, but time after time these past two years, you've always told him otherwise.
he can't help but dwell-- it's only for a second, but the thought is disrupted by a weak squeeze of his hand. he looks down, greeted by curious eyes that look so damn similar to his, and instinctively, his gaze softens. he reciprocates the gesture-- a silent comfort to his daughter as she crinkles her nose in response, a timid smile on her face.
yes, things have changed. him, his protectiveness. his kindness.
ăŒ the only thing that hasn't changed? his distaste for shopping trips, as mundane as they may be at times. but mundane is good; mundane is safe-- although he wouldn't describe this particular trip as such. not necessarily, and for a few good reasons :
one : you've gone entirely off course with the shopping list. he has no idea how you've all been here for an hour when the list had three items ( you also grabbed those items within the first ten minutes of arrival, by the way ). so while he's not really sure what you're buying, he's also very much okay with staying in his lane and not questioning it.
two : it's... july, isn't it? he stares blankly at the shelves before him.
it is july. there are halloween items on display. he shouldn't care much about it, and he doesn't, not at all, until--
three : until the little kiddo lets go of his hand, eyes wide and absolutely mesmerized at the sight of the outrageously out-of-season decor. her gaze shifts as she looks up at him, bottom lip jutting out the tiniest little bit.
christ. he can see it from a mile away-- that subtle hint of puppy eyes that she seemed to inherit from you ( and was purposely taught by johnny. damn bastard ).
"...go on." he tells her, and so she gingerly explores the aisle, never daring to stray too far from either of you, though you're only a few feet away at the most.
you stand side by side, watching her diligently inspect each item on the shelves. it's sudden-- the way she halts in her steps, that soft gasp just barely heard before her little hands reach for something. you can't quite make out what it is, nor have you seen her move that quickly before-- not even when she rushes into your bedroom during a loud thunderstorm. she clutches onto it for dear life, hugging it tightly to her chest before she runs back to you and simon.
"look!" she beams brightly, proudly holding up...a toy?
okay. cool. you tilt your head slightly. a white blob...shape. thing. whatever. okay. but then she actually turns it around, and ah-- it has a face.
oh. a ghost. a cute, little ghost plushie.
dead silence.
you purse your lips tightly, desperately trying to force back a smile ( and failing ) as you look down at your shoes, suddenly immensely interested in them. you clear your throat, albeit a little dramatically before making eye contact with him, and though anyone else would see a lack of emotion in those eyes, you can see both resignation and confusion in them. it's a moment of silent communication between you two with many, many unspoken questions.
because you have never referred to him as 'ghost', nor have either of you talked about his military service in front of her before. for the sake of everyone's safety, that's a conversation for later down the road. the less she knows, the better.
ăŒ so he doesn't know if this is some strange coincidence or not, because how the hell does his two year old daughter with no prior history of liking anything even remotely related to halloween suddenly get attached to a ghost plush? either way, he's got a headache now.
you focus on your daughter, amusement still very much on your visage.
"whatcha got there, baby?"
you're not sure what answer to expect. you're not sure what to expect at all from this situation, truthfully. her brows furrow as she puts deep consideration into her answer.
"...ghostie."
you almost wonder if this is a fever dream. if this was a television show, you would imagine they'd put crickets chirping in the background. you can feel simon's soul shrivel up and wither away.
"...fucking hell." he mumbles, and you can't help but laugh, gently ruffling her hair.
( yes, you do take ghostie home. no, simon doesn't understand the attachment. and yes, maybe he does take a little bit of pride in knowing that somehow, she was instinctively drawn to something that represents her dad. even if it is a... cute ghost plushie.
he'll make do, he supposes. he'll make do. )
#simon riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#ghost x reader#cod x reader#call of duty x reader#i am goign to eat my hair . this was supposed to be short and simple and funny but my brain is so !??! !? i have forgotten how to write ..#i will upload for now but perhaps delete later ă»(/Đ`)ă»#ok but anyway. yes . i hc that they've got a lil 2 yr old daughter who carries tht ghost plush with her like a lifeline#and simon is just like . ok . i guess#-Ë âĄ â : fic#-Ë âĄ â : cod#-Ë âĄ â : banner cr @ v6que
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Assertive
Rugby boyfriend!Eren x fem!reader
collage au, possessive but in an infatuated boyfriend type of way. Size differences are mentioned. No matter your size, Eren is bigger than you. (Note: going to be more active now that Aot is ending. Feel free to send requests âĄ)
I donât mind if youâre ignoring me, cuz Iâm ignoring you. â he watches you bounce around the room in your thin, white nightdress.Â
You continue looking for your phone, ignoring him. Thereâs no way you havenât searched every inch of his dorm room by now, so you finally look at him. Heâs laying on the bed shirtless, hands behind his neck, looking at you innocently. That fâckin bastard.
âDo you have my phone, Eren?â
He flashes his teeth, âugh, baby, you have no idea how nice it is to hear your voice again. Câmere.â he pats his lap.
You sternly put your hand on top of your hip, arching it to the side, giving Eren the perfect view. âDo you have it or not?â He doesnât even try to hide his smirk.
âDo I? I'm not sure. You should come over and look,â stretching his arms out in an inviting pose.
Earlier, Erenâs roommate, Floch, made a joke about how he can hear when you and Eren are having sex. When you told Eren, he rushed out of the room and ordered Floch to apologize. Completely scolding him like a dad. You felt embarrassed since you didnât want his friends to think you canât take a joke.
You know heâs just going to grab and pull you towards him, so instead, you start walking towards the door. Eren tenses immediately and rushes towards you,
ââHey, heyâ he grabs your hand. âwhere do you think youâre going?ââ he questions with furrowed eyebrows.
ââTo ask if the guys have theyâve seen it?ââÂ
His eyes flash red for a second. To have his friends see the outline of your nipples through that thin fabric of your so called pajamas? He looks you up and down, nope, not happening. You should be wearing his t-shirts to bed anyway.
 ââNot like that, youâre not,ââ he gives you an ââend of discussionââ look, but you huff and turn anyway. Not that you get far at all, he has you slung over his shoulders before youâve even fully turned.
The con of having a rugby player as a boyfriend is that he throws you around a lot without so much as breaking a sweat. When youâre mad at him, he has this irritating habit of lifting you off the ground and cuddling you until youâve cooled down. Claiming it âbreaks his heart watching you walk away angry.â
He walks towards the bed, ignoring your fists punching at his back. âYouâre such a brat sometimes.â He doesn't mind at all though, Eren has the patience of a saint when it comes to his girl, he enjoys being the one to set you straight.
He carefully lies you down on his bed, positions himself on top and grins, ââgotcha,ââ then smacks a kiss on your cheek. ââYouâre annoying.â you pinch his ear in retaliation.
âOw, hey, you know youâre stronger than you look.â he scratches his reddened ear. ââI'm being deadass, baby, you could go pro in armwrestling or some shit.ââ You burst out laughing over how dramatic heâs being and his eyes lit up from the sound. Your smile always captivates him.
Feeling yourself being stared at, you grin cheekily, unable to hide your smile âweirdo, stop staring,ââ brushing your fingers against his stubble. His eyes follow the movement of your hand and begin tracing the shape of your figure when all of a sudden he starts attacking you in tickles.
Youâre both advancing on each other playfully, laughing hysterically. In an attempt to roll out of his reach, Eren quickly reacts by by grabbing your hands and pins them above your head. The laughter is quickly replaced with heavy pants as you stare at him naively, your chest rising up and down.
Snapping out of his thoughts, he lets go of his grip and rests his head on your chest, âyou know, it doesnât matter if youâre mad. I donât want you to feel uncomfortable staying here.ââ he gently admits, then lifts his head,
ââplus, Iâm the only one who has a say about you in bed.â he wiggles his eyebrows.
âGross,ââ you push his chest, apparently amusing him by the look on his face. ââbut itâs fine, really. I just wanted to ignore the situation, but I guess he should learn that not everything needs to be said.ââ At this, he grins and takes ahold of your chin,
ââthatâs a good girl.ââ
You ignore the heat rising in your face and smack his hand away when you suddenly remember, ââspeaking off, where is my phone? You know I need to do my nightly routine check.ââ
He knows. Itâs the reason he slipped it under his pillow the moment you started throwing a fit. Itâs nice having the most predictable girl on the planet. ââYou can do it later, let a man enjoy his girl for a moment. You can be mad at me after.ââ
ââI'm not mad at youââ you look genuinely offended, causing him to snicker. âBesides, I kinda liked the whole sexy, scolding dad thing you had going on. It was kinda turning me on,â you admit, looking straight into his eyes.
His hands on your hips stiffen instantly and his whole demeanor changes. âDonât even joke, [name] I will put a baby in you right this second,â large hands grab your ass and starts grinding your body against his. Â
You attempt to leave but he drags you right back, looking at you confused. Looking down, you purr, ïżœïżœI really need to do my routine check,â sticking out your lower lip for extra effect.
You love to rile him up and have him mock you for being greedy and bratty. His face gets closer to yours with his eyebrows all furrowed.
âDid you just pout at me?â
âNuh uh,â you lie and tease your hand against his belt, Erenâs eyes follow your movements then trace back up to your face, where youâre innocently meeting his eyes.
He grabs a fistful of your hair and looks down at your hand playing against his bulge. ââYou wanna get fucked?ââ he spits with disgust, or admiration. Itâs hard to tell with him.
âKnow you enjoy keeping me on edge, acting all innocent when we both know,â He tucks a strand of hair behind your ear, eyes lingering just a second too long on your lips. Thoughts on ways to tame you running wild in his head.
ââTelling me it turned you on when I was commanding,ââ he shakes his head as if disappointed.ââIt's good Iâm here to keep you in line. A girl like you needs that.ââ
You feel the imprint of him on your stomach as his hips press you down on the bed, leaving you no space to leave. You try your best to keep your voice steady. âJust wanna make you happy,â you breathe out. He almost laughs.Â
âYou know what would make me happy?ââ Eren stands and lifts you up with him.
ââyou with my cock in your mouth.â You almost go limp in his arms from how lewd he's being.Â
Giving you an expectant look, he nudges your nose with his, âare you waiting for something? get to work.â he guides you down on your knees towards his crotch. The carnal look in his eyes makes you fumble a bit with his belt, but Eren is patient. Sometimes you suspect he enjoys seeing you nervous to perform for him.
Pressing a kiss on the tip, he returns his gratitude by patting your hair in a domineering act, âmake me proud.ââ he smiles, in which you relish. Keeping eye contact, you swirl your tongue around his shaft before hollowing your cheeks and start working your way down. You canât help but gag at his size, no matter how often you blow him.Â
Itâs been quiet for some time now and youâre growing impatient with the lack of praise. You decide to look up at him through the tears in your eyes and catch him smiling down at you. The scene feels so filthy you canât help but slyly drag your fingers over your panties to relieve some of the pressure, secretly humping your hips against your hand to the sound of his pants.Â
He just nearly cums in your mouth when he notices what youâre up to. Shamelessly playing with yourself, mouth filled with cock, you look straight out of Erenâs nastiest fantasies, it was perfect.
He bends down and pulls your hand out from under your nightdress, âNot yet, need you to be a good girl for me.ââ Then he does the hottest thing all night, he leans down to give it a kiss. You love him. He makes you feel like a princess getting fucked by her knight.
Feeling enthusiastic again, you eagerly reach for him to continue where you left off, but are stopped yet again. Whining, you wait for him any sort of command, just to do something, anything! but he looks so unaffected itâs making you wail even louder.
 âstop whining, you donât deserve to suck my dick.â Despite the warning, you almost do it again but stop yourself when you notice the glare youâre given. âBut I really needa feel you, Eren. It hurts down there.â you were so wet it felt like you were about to explode from the lack of release.Â
He's only a man after all, even he has his limits when you wail pathetically about how wet your pussy is. Now he needs to have a look. He pulls you up by your torso, ââdoes sucking me off make you wet?ââ You nod and visibly see his ego lit up. Â
A thin sheen of sweat connects your bodies as he effortlessly carries you over to his bed. You take advantage of your flexibility and spread your legs as far apart as you can once he lays you down, earning a groan out of him.
He doesn't hesitate a moment further to push his face in there and peek under your dress. âsuch a pretty cunt, princess. no idea how often I jerk off thinking about it, about this,â kissing through your soaked panties. Your hips jerk upwards at his erotic words, desperate for friction.
âEren, pleaseâ
He pushes your panties to the side but keeps them on. Itâs like heâs so needy for you he canât be bothered to take off either of your clothes properly, but patient enough to check out every inch of you as if seeing you like this for the first time.
Erenâs broad body consumes your smaller frame as you lie beneath him. You love this feeling, him shielding your body from anyone and anything but himself.Â
 His ring covered fingers play softly with your bud, observing your reactions before lining himself against you, causing goosebumps to erupt all over your skin. The sight of Eren being almost abnormally endeavored by your pussy as he spits on his hand and pumps his cock, increases the heat pooling in your abdomen.Â
You lie still, enjoying the sensation of him rubbing and tapping himself against you. His eyes are fixated entirely on your cunt and you enjoy every bit of the attention. Not to say youâre not curious about what goes on in his mind when heâs focused and quiet like this. Like your body is art and he is studying and memorizing every part of it.
Once satisfied, he pushes through the tight hindrance and sucks in a breathe, âoh, fuck.â and finally looks up at you. His heart stops a beat when heâs reminded of how beautiful you are. The urge to hide you away from anyone's eyes but his, hits him strong but he bites it back.
Time slows for a moment as you both take each other in through half lidded eyes, and for some reason, your vision has never been as clear. His fingers thread through yours as he leans in for a kiss. When he pulls away, your eyes are still closed. Eren grins and places one last kiss on your forehead before thrusting his way in.Â
Heâs fucking you with his hips, hard. Hands pressing down your pelvic, holding you still for him to ram into. The strap of your nightdress has slightly fallen down your shoulders, so he pushes the fabric thatâs hiding you from him down further, and exposes your breasts. The moan he lets out from the sight is pure filth.Â
ââTouch yourself.ââ he demanded, pupils dilated. With glazed over eyes, you comply and start playing with yourself, twisting and grazing your nipples. The act drives him to lift your hips to reach deeper into you,ââreally thought iâd let you walk out of my room looking like this.ââ he grows almost annoyed at the thought.Â
Tenderly cupping his cheek, he almost flinches from how lovingly youâre looking at him, âYouâre all I want, Eren.ââ and he almost melts. When you say things like that it makes him want to keep you to himself even more, resting his forehead against yours, he looks at you with almost a pained expression. ââthatâs good, because i'm a selfish man.ââ
 With your legs lifted around his waist and upper body sprawled on the bed, youâre essentially at his mercy as he connects your bodies in repeated thrusts. Again, again and again, the sound of him pushing into you echoes in the room.Â
He fucks like a deprived man and speaks like a man in love. âDoes it feel good, princess?ââ You nod with lovestruck eyes. ââYeah? taking me so well. making me so proud.ââ The pressure feels too intense, about to snap.
Heâs stretching you on his cock and looking straight into your eyes as he's doing it. Your body dissolves into pleasure as you writhe beneath him.
Your body starts squirming uncontrollably, causing him to grip your hips ever tighter, overpowering you in strength. You let out a loud sob and rake your nails on his back when your vision suddenly fades to black. He stares at you, astonished.
He raises an eyebrow, âdid you just cum?â the thusting has stopped completely now but you felt his dick twitch inside you as he asked. âTried to hold it in for you,â you stare back apologetically, eyes still sprinkled with lust. Best part is, he knows you didnât. And you know it too.Â
âTurn around,â he orders. You obey and slump towards the bed with your back against him, hiding your face in the pillows. âDonât act all shy with me now, letâs see your face,â he leaves no room for discussion, so you slowly turn your head and face him. He looks so big staring down at you from your vulnerable position. âThatâs a good, good girl.âÂ
Next thing you know, your cheeks are being spread and played with. Still high on ecstasy from the orgasm you just had, the energy to perform is nonexistent, so he does the job for you.
Huge hands angle your limp body upwards, then press down your back to create a beautiful arch, only for his eyes to admire. He sinks back inside and buries his cock in your warmth.
Itâs hard maintaining eye contact with him when heâs like this, it feels so shameless, almost taboo, still, you canât look away. Heâs pounding into you, pulling your hips hard against him.
âThis is what youâre making me do, looking at me like that. No one else will ever be able to see you like this,â he occupies his thumb by rubbing it over your clit. The contact is so delicate but rapid nonetheless.
You nod agreeably, barely able to register his words. âAre you close, Eren?ââ
âYeah,â his hands pressed down tightly on your lower abdomen, the scream you let out is almost inhumane. ââyes, yes.â youâre grinding back against him in heated motions, shockwaves of heat pumping through your body.
He snaps his pelvic against your ass and feels you sucking him right back in. He thinks back to what you said before about him as a dad and his eyes roll back. The thought of you carrying his child inside you makes him come undone.
âUgh, fuck.â He comes audibly high etc, covering you in his cum. You expect him to catch his breath but he smoothly regains his composure and pushes you on your back, his thumb finding its way right back to your clit, barely even getting started before leading you to your second orgasm.
You scream in pleasure as he cups your face, lips brushing against your ear. âThat's it, princess, you did so well for daddy. made me so proud.â he praises as he pushes your hair out of your face.Â
The lack of response makes him laugh, realizing heâd fucked you to sleep, litterally. chuckling, he grabs a warm cloth and cleans you up to his best effort.
Youâre usually sleepy right after sex so this is a regular routine for you both. He smacks a kiss on the top of your head and covers you with his comforter then goes for a shower.
Once heâs done, he carries you up bridal style to the bathroom. âWake up, sleepy.â heâs back to his sweet self. You grunt in response. âCâmon, you need to pee.ââ Itâs true, so you comply and he leaves you to it.Â
This is a conversation youâve both had before, he feels no need to leave when you do your business but youâve kicked him out enough times so he knows the drill by now. Eren changes the bedsheets while you clean up.
When finished, you walk back to the bed and he opens his arm for you to rest on, your phone lying beside him. You jump at the invitation and he hugs you towards him, ââwhat do you feel like eating?ââ heâs playing with your hair as you lie comfortably on his arm.Â
âNot hungry.ââ you murmur.
Eren fights the urge to sigh. âSorry, not up for debate.ââ He saves himself the trouble and orders for you both, knowing youâll feel hungry once you see him eat.
When the food arrives, you end up wanting exactly what Eren ordered for himself.
ââYouâre a big baby.ââ he sulks and rolls his eyes, but feeds you nonetheless. You donât miss the look on his face as you take a bite from his hand. One thing about Eren? he can and will fuck multiple times a day if you let him.
ââdown, boy. iâm not tryna have my guts rearranged after eating food.ââ
He grins, ââI didnât say anythingâ.â knowing heâll do exactly that when youâre done eating.
#ik i said i would look over this but i feel asleep at 5 and hust woke up so ops#someday#the the more active partâŠ#:8 Iâm planning to write for Gojo n nanami but Eren is the priority#but it takes me long to work on stuff so if u have ideas u want me to write send then now#oh and also! guess who had a whole edited draft and forgot to save it?#this is the result of that#anyway enjoy âĄ#eren smut#attack on titan eren#eren#eren jeager x reader#eren aot#eren fanfiction#eren jaeger#just in the clouds for eren#my fics#fanfics#my writing#snk eren#eren x reader#eren yeager#eren jaeger smut
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can it be easy this once? / steve harrington
summary: steve accidentally gives a stupid answer to your honest question. (best friends with benefits pining idiots to lovers, fem!reader)
unedited we die like men & title from the alcott by the national ft taylor swift hehehe enjoy
It started as a means of comfort after Starcourt, when he was bloody and bruised up but you took him home and got closer, closer, closer, until it turned into a mess of blurred lines and panting breaths, lips swollen for reasons other than being hurt, for better reasons, reasons that brought forth safety and relief for the two of you. You both tend to hunger for such things. Itâd been good, easy, for a bit there. Lately itâd felt like the intimacy was threatening to choke you. Like youâd never met a form of  closeness you didnât cling to. And God, did it feel like you were clinging. Craving an unwarranted change. Was it so unwarranted? You werenât sure, you could never tell.
   The air in his room is hot and sticky with summer, the ceiling fan providing the barest relief, your bare skin providing the slightest bit more. You stare all around his room, taking in all the stark traces of him, though in truth it doesnât betray much, just as he attempts to. Itâs a plain room, plaid walls, matching curtains, his desk messy and cluttered, all the dresserâs drawers slightly ajar like he spent a touch too long shuffling through all his clothes to determine which outfit would be best, which, knowing him in the way you do, he probably did. You knew he wasnât as secure as he liked everyone to believe. Steve Harrington tried his best, but sometimes you saw right through him.
    Other times he was harder to read. It was probably purposeful, layers of protection built around himself. Donât love anyone, donât let anyone love you, and you wonât get hurt. People can only hurt you if you let them. Steve wasnât letting anyone anymore. Definitely not his parents, definitely not Nancy Wheeler, definitely not random girls who would inevitably end up disappointed with him. He swore it all off. He was a hopeless romantic who never wanted to be in love again. You understood it for the most part. Or you attempted to. It was hard when you were halfway (maybe more than halfway) in love with the guy, in his bed most nights, in his company most days, acting like a couple without being an established couple because he was too hesitant and you were too gentle to be pushy.
   He nudges you lightly, naked chest peeking up from his covers, naked everything else kept firmly underneath. âYou okay? Youâre quiet.â He sits up so heâs level with you, and you avoid eye contact by leaning down toward the floor to grasp for the shirt he let you borrow, a faded Spider-Man one he insisted was from middle school. You didnât entirely believe him, but maybe it was just funny, and kind of sweet, to picture Steve sleeping in a Spider-Man shirt and keeping it a secret just for himself. You pull the shirt on over your head, and before you can do it for yourself, he reaches for your hair and takes it out from where itâs caught under the shirt. The familiarity of it makes you flinch. You can have sex with him all you want but God forbid heâs the slightest bit loving outside of that. It confuses you, the softness in the touches that arenât in bed with him. If he holds your hand in any context other than bringing you as into him as possible while he slips himself in and out, you lose all sense of normalcy between the two of you. You canât be normal when heâs holding your hand and stroking your cheeks and being kind, soft, adoring Steve, without being your Steve.
    âIâm fine, Iâm justâŠâ You reach for your shorts at the end of the bed. Steve watches you get dressed with his eyebrows scrunched together, confused. Youâre not usually in a rush to leave after you have sex. Not that he wants you to. He likes that you stay until day sinks into night and he drives you home and waits to repeat it all again. Waits to see you, generally. And itâs not sex every single time. You drag him to see whateverâs playing at the Hawk and he makes you sit with him at Family Video on slow days when itâs just him on the clock and a single tumbleweed blows through the store instead of any customers. He drives you just about anywhere you ask and he lets you put on any cassettes you want in his car even if he hates whatâs playing. Itâs nice, the friendship part of all of it. If you had to give everything else up and just keep the friendship youâd be willing. Heâd be willing. You consider it. âNothing, just tired, probably gonna head home,â you smile at him over your shoulder before pulling on your socks and itâs half-hearted and he knows it.
   âWhat? You can sleep here, you know that,â he waves a hand around the room, trying to catch your gaze, but you avoid his eyes again. Descending light slants in through the curtains and envelopes him in gold. He glows, heâs so pretty. His hair is messy from where you heatedly ran your hands through it, but it still looks nearly perfect. The fact that he always looks so good infuriates you.
   âNo yeah, I know, I wanna like shower and stuff too, and I left my new book at home and I wanted to do some reading,â you bluff calmly, standing up from tangled bedsheets and roaming the room in search of your sneakers.
  âThat Stephen King scary clown book? Iâll take you home and you can come back and read it here, so you donât get scared,â and he knows you wonât get scared and that you love horror far more than he ever could but he just really, really doesnât want to be alone. Why would you go when everythingâs right here? His parents arenât home and something about you leaving makes him antsy and desperate. When you still refuse to look at him he feels himself, his confidence, growing smaller and smaller. âDid I- did I do something?â He doesnât mean for it to sound as pathetic as it does.
  You whip around to face him, finally, finally, and touch a hand to his face. Relief floods through him at the heat of your fingers. âNo, of course not, itâs all me, okay? Iâm all sweaty and awful.â
   âYou look beautiful, I swear,â he squeezes your hand and you feel like youâre drowning. Itâs hard to breathe, your chest tight. âAre you sure youâre okay? You can talk to me, itâs me.â He scoots closer, if thatâs possible. âYouâre one of my best friends, we tell each other everything.â You look up toward the ceiling, inwardly groaning. Best friend.
  âYou do this with all your best friends?â Â
   âWell, no, Robin wouldnât touch me even if she didnât like girls-â He feels himself starting to grin, teasing smile lilting at his lips.
    âSteve!â Youâre laughing a little and so is he as you push his arm back. âYou know thatâs not what I meant.â
   âWhatâd you mean, then?â Heâs still smiling, that entrancing, deliberately pouty, lazy smile. Vaguely smirky. You donât know if itâs deliberate, a ploy to distract you, con you into staying, make you less prone to saying what you want to say, but you press anyway, even though heâs making you want to lean forward and endlessly kiss the smirk off his mouth.
  âI just think, I donât know⊠youâre not seeing anyone else, right?â
  ââCourse not, why, you got other plans after this?â He grins again. You roll your eyes. He makes it so hard sometimes.
   âSteve,â you whine, âIâm so serious right now.â
   âOkay, okay. No, youâre the only one for me.â He means it. Itâs the worst thing youâve ever heard. âAre you seeing anyone else?â He asks you like itâs the easiest question in the world for him to ask but honestly heâs shitting his pants a little. Heâs not sure whatâd he say if you said yes, I am, and I think we should end this, which is where heâs assuming the conversation is going. Youâve got we shouldnât do this anymore written all over you in his eyes and heâs steeling himself for the heartbreak.
    âDoes it look like I am?â
    âDoes it look like I am?â He repeats back, and he reaches for your hand in that too intimate way of his, takes it all careful and slow. âWhatâs this about?â
    âI just, I just think, that, you know, Iâm not seeing anyone, and youâre not seeing anyone, but weâre sorta⊠seeing each other, yeah?â You gesture between the two of you. He nods. Heâs staring at you very intensely, waiting for you to get your words out. Heâs still waiting for you to say you think this whole thing has been a very bad mistake, a miscalculated judgement on your part, you should go back to the way things were, so heâs not expecting what comes out of you next. âShouldnât we be, like, official, then?â
    And instead of throwing up all the ways he so badly would love for that to happen, he chokes out, because heâs stupid and speechless, âOfficial?â And the way he says it, like itâs a curse when itâs only his disbelief that youâd want that with him after all this time, makes you immediately go into panic mode.
   He quite literally sees the way you lose any sense of confidence in your question and he immediately tries to take it back as you stand from his side and start trying to force your words back in your mouth, too. âFuck, forget I said anything,â you mumble, spying your shoes shoved under his desk where youâd comfortably kicked them off. You hasten to put them on as Steve scrambles up from the bed and starts dressing, matching your frantic speed.
   âHey, wait, thatâs not what I- I didnât mean it like that-â
    âItâs fine, Steve, I get it, I totally do, this isnât that for you, itâs fine-â
     âIt is, it is-â but youâre not hearing him, your mind is already elsewhere. Itâs in your own bed in the quiet, alone with your thoughts and not with him, mercifully not with him. You need this one mercy, âIâll drive you home, babe, câmon, Iâll explain everything, please-â
   âI got it, itâs fine, Iâm fine, you donât have to explain, okay? I got it,â and you donât just walk out of his house and down the block to yours, you absolutely flee. You take Steveâs heart with you.
     Heâs pacing the floor behind the register at Family Video three days and three shifts later, practically clawing at the walls of the place, and Robin is pulling her hair out at the sight of him in distress this way.
    âWhat did you do?â She finally breaks, flipping her magazine shut.
     âWhat? How do you know it was me?â He stops pacing. He hadnât even noticed he was doing it.
      âYouâve had three shifts and she hasnât visited one single time. She always visits. And I know I didnât do anything wrong, because I never do anything wrong, so, whatâd you do?â Robin places her hand under his chin and stares at him expectantly.
     He huffs, his hands on hips. âMaybe she did something, Robin, did you ever think of that?â
    âDefinitely not,â Robin retorts, waiting for Steve to be serious.
     He deflates. âOkay, it was me.â
     âI know that, now continue.â
     âWe were, you know,â he tilts his head down and raises his eyebrows and widens his eyes.
    âHaving sex, sure,â Robin bobs her head. A customer in the nearest aisle frowns and shuffles toward a different section further away from the two of them.
    Steve shushes her. âI wasnât trying to say it so loud.â
   âHaving sex,â Robin repeats, louder this time, not bothering to fight back a laugh at Steveâs exasperated expression, âcontinue.â
     âWell, after that, she started asking if, if I was seeing anyone, which of course Iâm not, because, you know, Iâm into her, obviously, so I told her I wasnât, and she said she wasnât, so she said maybe we should be official.â Steve hesitates to say the rest of what happened. He still canât believe all he could do when you said the words was repeat them back to you with that stupid look on his face instead of giving you the biggest, loudest declaration of love in a big, messy, pathetic, devoted way, the way he pictures himself when it comes to you, messy and pathetic and devoted, and he replays that moment back to himself all day long, thinking of everything else he couldâve said to make you understand.
   âThatâs what you want, isnât it? Sheâs all you talk about all day long, you want to be with her, donât you?â
   âOf course I do!â He snaps, dragging a hand across his face. âBut when she said it I just couldnât get the words out and she got, she got so sad and she left without me being able to explain anything and she hasnât answered the phone which, yes, Iâve been calling, and I donât know how to do this.â Heâd never been good at school but he knew heâd get a Grade A in Pitiful.
   âDo what? Tell a girl you love her? Youâve been in relationships before, Steve.â
   âI know, butâŠâ he sighs. âIâm different now, like, itâs not as easy anymore, for me, and I- I donât want her to get hurt, and I donât want to get hurt, itâs like, everything used to be my fault, and I wasnât as good as I could have been, and I donât want to break anything, I donât want it to get fucked up, because itâll be my fault, and I canât do that again. Not to her.â He swallows, the words harder to come by than he would care to admit. âIâm a little⊠Iâm a little in love with her, I think.â This is said quietly. It frightens him to say it out loud. Heâs gone over it in his head, those words, so few of them, but they say so much, and itâs scary. He hasnât said them to someone in years. The last time he did he got so brutally hurt he thought heâd never recover. But he had. So why was it still so scary?
   âA little bit?â Robin teases, but itâs all love for him, truly.
   âAlright, a lot in love,â he concedes. He wants to get used to saying it. He wants to say it to you. For real. Loudly. âI still donât know how to do this, though. Not anymore.â
  âCome on!â Robin gets up from her stool and places her hands on his shoulders. âYouâre supposed to be Steve Harrington. You were using thoseâŠâ she pauses for a beat and then, âcharms,â the word is said with the smallest hint of sarcasm but she persists nonetheless, âon tons of girls in high school and at Scoops! Now whip them out again for our very nice friend that you sometimes go to town with!â
  âWhen did any of those charms,â he says it with a matching sarcastic tone, âwork aside from when I was sixteen and an idiot?â
  âYou might not be sixteen anymore but youâre still an idiot, if that helps.â
   âIt doesnât but thank you for the encouragement.â
   âIâm just saying!â She exclaims, throwing her hands up and returning back to her seat. âPutting yourself out there is always gonna be scary, but you canât let that stop you. Youâd actually be an idiot if you let that stop you. Are you just never gonna see her again? No, because youâd go insane. Itâs not like what you did was all that bad anyway.â
   âYou really think so?â He perks up a bit, needing that confirmation that he isnât a totally awful and irredeemable person. Itâs easy for him to fall headfirst into that spiral of thinking. It was a trap set with the most accessible, perfect bait and he somehow always found himself walking straight into it without stopping to think if he was being fair to himself.
   âYouâve both been in bad spots, you reacted the way you did and she reacted the way she did out of what was most likely panic and embarrassment. Sheâs definitely not even mad at you. Probably just, again, embarrassed. If you explain I think itâll all be okay, Steve, I swear.â Robin canât take much more of this conversation circling around, as much as she loves Steve and wants to be there for him, she would love him even more if he acted on his feelings and allowed himself some happiness for once.  âSo do you think you can you, like, maybe go tell her so she can keep visiting us at work? I need more company than just you and Keith and these customers with no taste,â she complains, glaring at the closed door that hides Keith, in all his absolute glory. The customer from before hears her comment and storms out. Robin rolls her eyes.
   âRight, yeah, tell her I love her, tell my best friend I love her,â he frowns, nerves creeping up the back of his neck. âMaybe you could just call her first and ask-â
    âSteve! I am not meddling in your love life like that when you already know everything there is to know!â She throws her magazine at him. âShe said she wants to be with you, go be with her!â
   âAlright, alright!â He waves his hands dismissively. He begins to pace again, this time his eyes held to the clock. Robin groans. Thereâs still three hours left of their shift.
    Youâre in your room wallowing, or doing whatâd you call attempting not to wallow but failing at it miserably. You havenât touched a single page of your book, mostly content to just listen to sad records and more or less stare at the wall. It was stupid, you knew, to behave in such a way over some guy. But it didnât feel like some guy. It was Steve, after all. It all felt deeper than just some guy. You two had been through a lot together, more than most people have been, and if youâd just ruined your friendship with someone you always felt safe, felt at home with, over feelings you couldnât control and probably would be better off not having, you were going to need some serious therapy.
    It probably was silly of the two of you to start this thing up anyway, you reason, fighting back your urge to do any further crying into a pillow. You try to focus on painting your nails a nice shade of dark blue but it reminds you of Steveâs old Scoops uniform and of that night (and all that nights that followed) so you stop in the middle of your second thumb and grab nail polish remover and start scrubbing away at your finished right hand.
âFuckinâ ridiculous,â you mutter, the cotton ball in your hand soaked through with blue and your nails discolored and muddy. âI am ridiculous,â you say to yourself, shaking off your wet hand. Your room is filled with the smell of acetone and disappointment. You think about lighting a candle when your doorbell rings. You debate answering it before it rings again. And then again. And again, more frenzied this time.
   You open the door to a distressed Steve. His cheeks are red and heâs breathing like he canât anymore. Heâs not the multi-star athlete he was in high school, he realizes in this moment. âDid you- did you just run here from work?â You ask him, but heâs already too close to you, not answering your question, gazing at you because simply looking isnât enough and has never been enough. He is gazing. He is flush with adoration. Itâs hard not to bloom under that radiance. He makes you want to forget everything and go back to plush lips on hot skin and the quiet contentment that came alongside being with him in those first few months. You back up a little into your doorway but he steps up to you, following your steps. âWhereâs your car-â
   âForget that for a sec,â he says, and you stop talking out of surprise. âJust, just tell me if we do this itâll be okay, and we wonât be terrible for each other, and weâll be good,â because he needs to hear it, even if itâs ridiculous and heâs jinxing it before itâs begun he needs to know youâre right there with him. âLike, just tell me it can be easy this once. If you broke my heart I donât know if Iâd be able to handle it. âCause I love you. I do. And I want this.â And you get it. Heâs letting you get it. Heâs letting you all the way in. You realize, flustered and basking in it, that heâs the first one to say those words. That you hadnât even said them when you posed your first question. But heâs saying them out loud and itâs brilliant and beautiful. He is beautiful.
   It makes you want to weep, the love that swells here, out in the open. âFuck, Steve, what type of girl do you think I am, breaking the heart of the guy Iâve been in love with since he started sneaking into my bedroom?â He smiles. He glows. Itâs so beautifully Steve. Maybe it can be easy.
   When he kisses you, he proves it: the ease, the tranquility. He is fervent and burning. Everything is urgent with Steve. Especially kissing. He captures every bit of you immediately. His touch is light when he urges you out of your doorway and into your living room so he can shut your front door and quit giving the neighbors what heâs sure is the show of a lifetime. It is for him, at least.
#IM JUST GONNA POST THIS NOW BECAUSE I WANTED TO WRITE SMUT BUT I KEEP DELETING IT AND IF I DONT JUST POST AS IS IM GONNA END UP NEVER POSTIN#i feel like the ending is rushed but otherwise i did enjoy writing this immensely!#love you guys<3333#i will write smut one day but not today i guess! iâm literally at work rn too soo#steve harrington x reader#steve harrington#steve harrington fanfic#steve x reader#steve harrington imagine#steve harrington x you#steve harrington fic#steve harrington fluff#steve harrington one shot#stranger things x reader#stranger things
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So @keferon's Empurata Prowl posts are living rent-free in my mind, lol. I just had to write out the scene from this post so look out for the angst below the cut!
(Tumblr please don't kill my formatting--)
There's someone in front of him.
Prowl doesn't dare make a move, doesn't dare let the mech in front of him know he's awake and aware now. Doing so runs the risk of them putting him under again if they're an enemy, removing all possibility of escape (awake the chance is small; 25%. Unconsciousâ he doesn't need to run those numbers to know it's zero).
He will not lose this chance.
He waits, hoping his vision will improve enough that he can see more than the darkened silhouette moving in front of him, that his hearing will lose the staticky quality it took on the moment he regained consciousness and he might recognize a voice. It's taking every ounce of willpower he has to keep his doorwings from fluttering ever so slightly to gather data on his surroundings.
It's taking everything in him not to run away as the restraints are undone, to keep his doorwings from flaring high and wide to scream stay away, danger, threat in a way that a small buried part of him wants to scream.
(He will ignore that part. Emotions have no place in trying to plan an escape. Fear can cause one to act too soon, to lash out when they should be biding their time waiting for the moment with the highest chance of escape. Tactically, emotions lower the chance of a successful escape.)
He has to wait, he cannot lose this chance to escape over something as trivial as emotions. Not when that runs the risk of more being done to him.
He will not let them do anything else to him.
So Prowl stays as still as possible as the final restraint is removed, not daring to try and run. Not yet. They would be prepared for him to try and escape the moment he could, they would plan for it. If he waits, pretends he's not aware enough to realize he's free to move, they may slip up, may give him the chance to escape successfully.
âŠOr he could be missing the only opportunity he'll have, and he doesn't even know it.
He doesn't know enough. There's too many unknown variables.
Number of enemies: 1 (or more) Location: Unknown Route to exit: Unknown Status of allies: Unknown Chance of successful escape: Unable to accurately calculate (no more than 30% at best).
He wishes he could see more, see who's in front of him, who the taller mech who just came close enough for him to notice is (had he been there the entire time?). He wishes this static in his audials would go away so he could hear what was being said. He wishes he could move his doorwings freely and know if he was surrounded by enemies instead of just not knowing.
(He wishes he had his hands still, he doesn't know if he'll be good enough of a shot with this claws. He wishes he had his face still, this singular optic being a screaming sign of what was done to him and he was helpless to stop it. He wishes he knew what all they did to him, what did they do, what did they do to himâ).
He can't help it. He needs to know.
His doorwings twitch, just enough to tell him the two mechs in front of him are the only others in the room. It's enough to catch the smaller one's attention. There's noise, maybe speech, and he can make out their hands coming towards himâ
Their hands are coming towards his head, his neck, he thinks he sees needles, and he can't just stand there anymore.
Prowl feels his new claw dig through metal, through the glass of a visor, as the static in his audials crescendos, becomes a roar. His plating is flared, his doorwings spread high and wide, and he is shaking.
He can't stop shaking.
What did they do to him?
#Transformers#Fanfic#Transformers Fanfic#Fanfiction#Transformers Fanfiction#Prowl#Transformers Prowl#Empurata!Prowl#Cy writes#Angst#Empurata!Prowl AU#When I say this lives rent-free in my mind I'm not joking#I have. Maybe 3/4s of a fic surrounding this already thought out#Will this be the thing that gets me writing more than just RP-specific stuff? We'll see!#Guess I'm writing Transformers Angst now--#Lol jk I was already doing that for RP stuff#But now I'm Sharing
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rescuing kittens -
pairing: sylus x mc word count: 2,509 summary: While attempting to rescue a poor cat stuck in a tree, MC⊠also gets herself stuck in the tree. Fortunately, a certain 'Good Samaritan' known for helping strays just happened to be passing by⊠tags/warnings: lighthearted, slice of life, flirty banter, developing relationship, silly sweet shenanigans in the style of some Tender Moments. a/n: This was my first little lads fic, technically a one-shot that could have a future follow-up but I don't have anything in mind for it atm. Mid-point in the slow burn, definitely before Grassland Romance & Wander in Wonder. P.S. I forbid any use of my writing in any form of generative or AI training.
(ao3 link)
âSylus!â Against all odds and reason, she couldnât stop herself from a thrill of excitement and relief seeing that familiar face just happening to pass beneath her on the sidewalk.
An eyebrow arched as he stopped, lifted his sunglasses, and looked up.
âIâve heard of cats getting stuck in trees, but this seems a little ridiculous, kitten.â The pointed emphasis on the pet name was particularly heavy-handed this time around. She sighed. Yeah, even amidst her relief sheâd expected his teasing.
âYeah, yeah, laugh it upâŠâ she grumbled, awkwardly crouched among the branches of a tree in a street-side park, a tiny tabby tucked in the crook of one arm.Â
âCare to explain?âÂ
âI⊠miscalculated.â Her face scrunched up and she hung her head.Â
She had been sure she could extricate the little critter just fine on her own, but now that she was several feet in the air with the cat in her arms, she had to reconsider. It was behaving well enough, but by the look in its eye and the twitch in its tail, she couldnât be sure it wouldnât react unpredictably if she suddenly leapt or otherwise maneuvered down. She didnât want it to hurt itself because of her.Â
âIâm not sure this little guy is going to cooperate if I make any sudden movements.âÂ
âThat sucks.â He drawled with faux sympathy, replacing his sunglasses and moving to leave. âWell, good luck with that.â
âWait! Come on! I know youâre not that heartless! Can you really leave a-...â she pursed her lips, swallowed her pride, and then did her best to put the most pathetic pair of puppy eyes on she could muster. â-Two adorable kittens to their sad fate?â
Sylus choked out a single bark of laughter, looking insufferably smug as ever.Â
âAll right, all right.â He shook his head in amusement, taking a few steps closer to position himself beneath her. âBut I have one condition.âÂ
âDonât agree and then tack on favors!â She scolded, and then was painfully, keenly aware she did sound a bit like a hissing cat.
âIf a kitten needs saving, shouldnât it be making cute little sounds so someone will come help it?â He ignored her. And of course he went and said something ridiculous. She felt the corner of her mouth twitch.
Deep down, she was pretty sure heâd help her even if she refused. Or she could even propose a different deal, and in her experience he was typically pretty lenient with her⊠But in this situation, nothing was coming to mind.Â
â...Are you sure about that? Thatâs what you want?â When had she ever âmeowedâ in her life?Â
He folded his arms and tilted his head. âWhat? Is the Kitty Queen incapable of mastering her own native language?âÂ
She sighed and shook her head. âAll right, you asked for itâŠâ Clearing her throat, she took in a deep breath through the nose. A meow. A cute, small sound that tugged at the heartstrings.Â
âMe- meow~!â It started strong! But then her voice cracked and it sounded a bit like she had a hairball stuck in the back of her throat. Or a cat in heat. She clapped her free hand over her mouth in vehement, physical, knee-jerk denial such a sound had left her mouth.
Sylus just laughed, and even as her face burned with embarrassment, she could hear the warmth in it, rather than sounding particularly mean-spirited.Â
âOh, that was very cute.â He lifted his arms up. âAll right, Iâm compelled. Hop down and Iâll catch you.âÂ
She groaned quietly to herself, but took careful hold of the cat in both of her arms. This way she could focus on keeping the cat restrained instead of how best to land.Â
Funny, actually, the complete faith she had that Sylus wouldnât let them get hurt. Sheâd suspected him many times in the past of trying to deceive or otherwise mislead her, but as he said: when he made a promise, he always followed through.
So while she did her best to angle herself towards him, she otherwise didnât hesitate to take the leap. She was hardly surprised when, in an instant, dark energy wrapped its tendrils around her waist, significantly slowing her fall to almost nothing. Though once she was in reach they dissipated, replaced by his hands on her hips, effortlessly lowering her down to the ground.
For all of her concerns, the cat in her arms didnât seem to so much as bat an eye. It mewled softly -and unquestionably adorable- as if saying thanks.Â
âAnd now the kittens are safely returned to terra firma.â His hands withdrew, but instead he lifted one to pet her hair like one would a cat. âTry not to repeat the same mistake, hm?âÂ
âI donât see the problem,â she said, brushing his hand off. âYou could use all the help you can get stocking up on good deeds to balance your scales.â
He scoffed, and started to say something, but the real cat had expended all of its patience and began twisting and squirming around. Quickly she knelt down to release it, watching as the furry little critter bounded off and disappeared into some bushes.Â
âAw⊠I wonder if it lives around here. It seemed pretty young.âÂ
âYoung and feisty. Smart, too.â Sylus mused, his eyes glinting with mirth as he looked at her. âDefinitely sounds familiar.âÂ
Denying him for the millionth time seemed pointless. At this juncture she was more or less resigning herself to her fate. There were worse things than being a cat, she supposed.
âNot sure how smart either of us were getting stuck in a tree,â she mumbled, brushing off the fur sheâd accumulated on her shirt as she stood up.
âIt was smart enough not to scratch the hand that helped it.â He shrugged. She narrowed her eyes at him - and then mimed a scratching gesture, hooking her fingers like claws.
âJust like I havenât scratched you yet?â Was what he was getting at. He just chuckled, idly rubbing his thumb over the pads of his other fingers.Â
âI believe the emphasis there is on âyetâ.âÂ
She recalled that he had a habit of caring for stray cats, though. And a habit of getting scratched to ribbons for his trouble. As well as a habit of never holding a grudge against themâŠ
âItâd be worth it regardless,â he went on to say, tucking his hand in his pocket as his gaze leveled on her. âI got to witness a truly fascinating new side of you.âÂ
Of course he wasnât going to drop that, was he? She huffed and folded her arms over her chest.Â
âBeing cutesy isnât exactly my forte. You should be more grateful for the rare opportunity.âÂ
For a second he looked genuinely bewildered, and she didnât think it was because of the second thing sheâd said. But if sheâd blinked she would have missed it, because it was quickly replaced by that subtle arch of his brow and less-subtle smirk.Â
âOh, I donât know about that. I find you cute plenty of the time.â
âYou have a delightful way of making that sound uncomplimentary.â She could feel her glower deepen - along with the wrinkles between her brow.Â
âAnother astonishing misunderstanding.â
Even if she accepted that he was being honest, she didnât want to really reconsider what that meant at the moment. Instead she dropped her arms along with her bristly attitude and exhaled, letting ease overtake her. She was truly grateful for his help, after all.Â
âAnyway, thank you for the assist. Itâs still a bit early for you, though, isnât it?â She cast a brief glance at the sky; the sun would be going down before long, but it was still fairly bright for him to be strolling around Linkon. âI suppose you had business here?â
âI did, but itâs all wrapped up now.âÂ
âIâm sure Iâll be hearing about it on the evening news,â she sighed. But how warped was she becoming by association with him, that there was a tell-tale bit of amusement in her tone she simply could not deny?Â
She might have still had plenty of reservations about him, but at least in her limited experience, most of his enemies were criminals of the worst caliber. There was no way she could quite define him as a âvigilanteâ, but there had yet to be an instance where she felt the people he dealt with were particularly deserving of pity.
âAnd what about you? Youâre not in your hunters uniform. Are you such an altruist you spend your days off looking for more good deeds to hang on your scales?âÂ
She scoffed and rolled her eyes. âI was just heading out to get an early dinner, when I heard cute little sounds begging for help.â
He didnât quite laugh, but gave a low, breathy exhale that came close.Â
âI was also just about to get a bite to eat,â he said, his tone shifting ever-so-slightly. A hint of gentleness crept in through the cracks, a subtle sweetness that never failed to entice her. âWould you care to join me?âÂ
It was a little distressing to realize how quickly she felt inclined to accept his offer. Which felt directly correlative to how much she wanted to spend more time with him. Which was borderline humiliating. The more her heart sang, the more she wanted to shove a pillow over it and press down until it stopped.
She tried to make a show of giving an exasperated huff, but it trembled pathetically on the way out as if betraying her. Still she stuck to her very stubborn guns and said: âYou could have used that as your bargaining chip to get me down instead of making me meow.â
âIâll admit the thought did cross my mind⊠But that wouldnât be much better than coercion, now, would it, kitten?âÂ
Her lips tightened into a thin line. âI suppose. Maybe.âÂ
The real question was: Would she have minded? But the fact he cared enough not to use such âunderhandedâ methods only made her singing heart that much more exuberant.
âWhat were you thinking? That sandwich shop nearby?â He offered his arm to her not unlike he had at the auction. For a split second she was bewildered by the fact he had psychically divined her destination - then she remembered this was Sylus, and rounded back on the fact he was just cruising ahead again.
âI didnât even agree to anything.â It sounded like such a pathetically empty resistance. Because it was, and it had been from the moment he asked.
âMaybe not out loud, but⊠Didnât you already make up your mind?â
âAughhâŠâ She hooked her arm around his. She really didnât have to do that either, did she? And yet he seemed so finely tuned to knowing exactly what she really wanted, deep down.Â
âOkay, but how did you know about Bennyâs?âÂ
âIt was just a guess. You like sandwiches,â he said as matter-of-factly as if it were common knowledge, âand when I looked earlier, the ratings I saw would suggest itâs the only place in this area that would make it worth coming this far from your apartment.â
Yeah, that level of calculation sounded like him. Well, she knew a thing or two about him, too!
âSounds like youâve never been there, then. Their slow-cooker French dip is one of my go-toâs, I think itâd be right up your alley.â She said with no lack of confidence, enthusiasm beginning to bubble over. âBut theyâve got their seasonal apple cider pulled pork right now Iâm dying to check out.â
âHmm, those do sound good,â he nodded, shooting her a grin. âShould we go splitsies?âÂ
She snorted and laughed, hearing him say things like that always caught her off-guard in the best way, and he seemed to know it.Â
âI thought you didnât like to share. I seem to remember a greedy crow who complained whenever I tried his food before.â
âThereâs a key difference between sharing and stealing.âÂ
She couldnât stop herself from a mischievous little giggle remembering the look on his face when heâd gone for his last dumpling and found it mysteriously vanished.
He leaned towards her a little, lowering his voice, his breath brushing her ear. âBut I suppose⊠we donât need to worry about such distinctions between us anymore.âÂ
Rather than bend away, she turned her face towards him, drinking in his closeness. âHow benevolent of you.âÂ
He laughed and straightened up, and she tried not to be too disappointed.Â
âYouâre the only one who would say that about me.â
âIâm just calling it like I see it.â She shrugged one shoulder. âBut Iâm fine being the primary recipient of your benevolence, too.â Grinning up at him, she lifted her free hand to poke his cheek. âEspecially if that means I can rope you into a few good deeds here and there.â
He gave her a brief glare for the poke, but it was almost hilariously short lived and as paper thin as her resistance earlier had been. How was she supposed to just ignore that?Â
âSo thatâs your angle? Course correcting me onto the straight and narrow?âÂ
âHmmâŠâ Considering it briefly, she probably would have said yes before. But now? It was less about that than she found herself worrying for his safety. âI think Iâd be happier if you maybe had fewer people trying to kill you at any given time.â
âThat would be quite the list⊠And who was it that once sat at the top of it, I wonder?â He flashed a ruthless grin. Her expression immediately soured as she nudged her shoulder into him.
âAre you ever going to drop that?â
âWell, I still havenât heard a sincere apology, sweetie.â
âAnd now definitely isnât the time for it, either.â She mumbled, feeling the heat of embarrassment along her cheeks and the tops of her ears. Still she gave her all in shifting the subject by making a sweeping gesture of her free hand to the building in front of them, cheering enthusiastically. âBecause we have arrived! Time to eat!â
âHaha, how convenient for you. All right, then.âÂ
Benevolent once again, he did indeed drop it as they made their way into the restaurant. But he wasnât wrong, and she knew it. For something like that though, all of the rage, hatred, and vengeance sheâd pinned on him⊠A simple apology wouldnât do.Â
She was going to have to think of something, some way she could truly show how sincere she was, and paying for sandwiches wasnât going to cut it. In truth, she didnât think he cared much about whether she went to extreme lengths, but the real guilt she felt over it wouldnât be assuaged by half-hearted measures. She needed to really think of how she could make it up to him, even if he didnât truly seem to hold any grudge against her - like all the strays that had lashed out at him before.
#love and deepspace#sylus#sylus x mc#lads sylus#l&ds sylus#sylus fic#lads mc#love and deepspace fic#lads fic#omg there are so many possible tags for this wowza#oops posting my self-indulgent fic on 'main' besties don't look at me#still debating if i wanna make a dedicated lads sideblog#for now i'll make a writing tag tho i guess!#crow's writing.
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Day 4: Supportive Boyfriends
and for my next (LATE, SO LATE) @bucktommypositivityweek contribution. KITTEN FIC.
(read on ao3)
**
The 118 doesn't have a baby box.
In fact there aren't any in the state of California at all. Buck looked it up, after Maddie's postpartum episode. When half his family was missing and there wasn't much he could do besides wait and... think about things.
So he thought about safe haven laws. Read up on the training seminars for first responders who want to be better equipped to deal with hand-offs. Read a bunch of other stuff he sort of wishes he hadn't. Spent the next week haunted by articles about abandoned children.
He considered talking to Bobby about it. Only partly to ask him if they should get a box for the firehouse. Partly because Buck wasn't sure how he felt about the whole thing, and Bobby always seemed to have answers. But he never worked up the nerve to broach the subject.
And now. Bobby's not captain anymore, and Buck really can't imagine Gerrard giving a shit about any of this.
So, they don't have a box. But.
Well, this isn't a human baby. It's not like the same rules apply.
Buck has to wonder if wires got crossed somewhere, because. Someone left a kitten. Outside the firehouse.
Buck was just going to grab somethingâhe can't remember whatâfrom his Jeep, when he spotted an unlabelled cardboard box on the pavement, up against the side of the building. His first thought was bomb.
Until it meowed at him. A tiny, high-pitched peep of a meow.
Kind of scared the shit out of him, if he's being honest.
There's only one. All alone in the box. A poofy grey thing wriggling around half buried in an off-white towel. Like a very ambitious dust bunny with big round blue eyes and skinny legs. It wobbles slowly over a fold in the towel with all the effort of someone scaling a mountain.
Buck crouches next to the box, and pokes a finger inside.
"Hey, buddy," he murmurs, holding very still while the kitten inches towards his hand and squeaks. It's unclear whether there are teeth in that little maw. That means it's really young, right? Too young to be left alone for very long.
Shit, how is he going to explain this to Gerrard? He's still got, like, 12 hours left on his shift, but someone has to feed this thing. How long can kittens go without food?
Oh, it does have teeth. Really teeny ones. They're ineffectively poking his knuckle.
Buck fishes his phone out of his jacketâwith the hand that isn't currently being drooled onâintending to go to Google for answers. How to figure out how old a kitten is. How often do kittens need to be fed. Do cats get separation anxiety. He has a million questions.
Only he doesn't pull up his browser. He calls Tommy.
It's a whim. Barely a seed of an idea. But when he unlocked his phone the first thing he saw was their text history (he'd been complaining about Gerrard off-and-on all morning, and Tommy had been sending random updates about all the chores he'd been getting doneâhis last message was a picture of a mop with no context) and he just thought... Tommy will know what to do. Not in so many words, more a feeling. Comfort and certainty, just from seeing Tommy's picture in a little bubble at the top of his screen.
"Evan?" Tommy answers almost immediately, and there's a subtle undercurrent of worry in his tone. Buck winces. Right, calling out of the blue while he's at work would look. Bad.
"I'm okay!" He says quickly, all in one breath. Then pauses. The kitten squints up at him, meowing again, long and loud. Its whole fluffy face scrunches with the effort.
"...What was that?"
"Uh. That would be why I called, actually."
â
Gerrard is less of an obstacle than Buck feared he'd be. Because he's holed up in his office doing paperwork when Buck sneaks in with the kitten, and Buck's decided he has no intention of letting him know the cat was ever here.
Tommy promised he'd come get her.
Buck didn't even really ask, and wasn't planning on asking. Didn't have any plan whatsoever, in fact. He just wanted to know if Tommy knew anything about taking care of kittens, and suddenly Tommy's voluntarily sacrificing the rest of his day off to scope out vets and pet supply stores and whatever else Buck's helpless little friend might need.
He hung up hours ago and his insides still feel warm and goopy about it. He can't stop thinking about the gentle fondness that softened Tommy's voice after Buck explained the situation. Buck would wrap himself up in it like a blanket if he could.
Tommy's getting so kissed when he shows up.
In the meantime, Buck's sitting upstairs, working his way through the dozen or so tabs he opened up after googling kitten care.
He thinks the one he found might be around three weeks old (ears not quite unfurled, can't sheathe claws yet, legs unsteady but mobile). And possibly a girl. She did not care for being picked up and turned over, and the indignant squirming made it difficult to tell what's going on down there. But he's almost certain he's right.
She was shrieking up a storm about it, and he was worried if he took any longer she'd alert Gerrard. (She didn't. She did, however, draw the attention of about half the firehouse.)
"You are disgustingly cute," Chimney coos, scratching under her chin with the tip of one finger. She's lifted her head as high as she can and her eyes are squinted happily. Buck can hear her purring from across the room. "Yes you are. Hen, can you get a picture of this?"
Hen pulls out her phone. "Sure... why?" She asks, leaning over his shoulder to snap a picture and eye him with mild suspicion.
"Jee. She'll wanna see when I tell her about my day."
Her expression softens to a smile. "I'll text it to you." She taps her screen a couple times. "Just had to make sure you weren't planning on calendar campaigning again."
Chimney grins. "Nah, my calendar days are behind me. The only person who gets shirtless pictures of me now is my wife."
"Gross," Buck says without conviction. He narrows his eyes at the site he's scrolling through, swiping away a Join Our Mailing List! popup. "You guys don't think she's cold do you? Are her ears warm? It's only, like, 70 today and we don't know how long she was out there."
Hen and Chim exchange glances, and then, disturbingly in sync, look from the cat to Buck. Chim gives her ear a perfunctory poke, which she does not appreciate as much as chin scritches, "She's fine, man."
Hen waves a hand at Buck when he opens his mouth again, "We're medical professionals. And in my medically professional opinion. She's fine."
"Okay, butâ"
"Hey guys, look who stopped bâuhhh. Is that a cat?" Eddie slows to a stop at the top of the stairs, blinking at the kitten on the couch. "When did we get a cat?"
"Couple hours ago," Buck says, still frowning at Hen and Chimney. "Where have you been?"
"I found him polishing the engine."
Buck shoots out of his seat. "Tommy!"
He only half-hears Eddie muttering, "Favouritism," as he scuttles around the chair to meet Tommy halfway between the stairs and the sitting area. Tommy has just enough time to smileâand it warms Buck, like it always does, with a spark caught in his chest for safekeepingâand say hi before Buck's on him, palms clapped on either side of his face, smushing their lips together.
He makes a bit of a show of it, dramatically swooping in, because he knows the big smacking MWAH will make Tommy laugh, and he likes the way that feels rumbling against his chest.
Buck taps their noses together. "Hey," he says, savouring the mirth sparkling in Tommy's eyes for a second before kissing him again, properly this time.
His brain goes sort of fuzzy when Tommy's palm cups the back of his neck.
Someone in the distance wolf-whistles.
When they finally come up for air Tommy asks, "What was that for?" a little breathlessly, which is doing things to Buck.
"Mmn...y'know. For being you."
Tommy raises his eyebrows, kiss-reddened lips curling fondly. "Okay."
"Hey, Tommy. Good to see you," Chim calls in a very pointed way.
Right, public setting. Workplace. Friends watching. Buck exhales slowly, and tries to think about anything other than how much he wants to bite that bit of clavicle peeking out of the collar of Tommy's shirt. Like the fact that Tommy's hands are warm, and he's sort of rubbing his fingertips over the short stubbly bits of hair on the back of Buck's head, and Buck's lips are still tingling a little, andâno wait, not that either.
Tommy pulls away first, which is probably for the best, but also very sad. The corner of his mouth twitches like he can see Buck thinking it. He curls his index finger and gently taps Buck's chin with the knuckle before he turns to the group.
"Howie," he says, not even pretending to be contrite in the face of Chim's mock-judgement. "Hen."
"Tommy." Hen fails to contain her smirk.
Some time during all the kissing, Eddie moved over to the couch. He's sat next to the kitten, watching her attempt to groom her paw with all the grace of a toddler who's only a little bit sure they know how to hold a brush. She keeps starting and stopping at random intervals, sometimes licking the cushion beside her, sometimes sticking her tongue out at thin air.
She's so cute it makes Buck's chest hurt. It's a little much while he's still loopy from making out with his boyfriend.
Then Tommy goes and crouches next to the couch so he can get eye-level with the kitten while she sniffs his hand, talking to her all calm and soft with smile-lines crinkling his cheeks, and. Buck might need to lie down for a bit. Like, on top of Tommy, preferably.
The kitten seems to like him too, and he really can't blame her when she crawls up Tommy's sleeve to perch on his shoulder.
She looks so much smaller cuddled up on Tommy. He reaches up to steady her, and she's almost entirely obscured by his hand.
God, is it wrong that he's getting a little hot under the collar about that? He just looks so strong and competent and at the same time, like, gentle. Buck knows how it feels to be touched tenderly by those hands, and apparently just seeing it happen does not affect him any less. In fact it's only added dimensions to his desires.
"I should probably get going," Tommy says, bringing Buck back down to Earth with a resounding splat.
He opens his mouth to protest, then closes it. He's right. The last thing Buck wants is for Tommy to have another run-in with Gerrard, and they don't know how long the old bastard's gonna be occupied.
"Mhm, run while you still can," Chimney pipes up. "Before our dear old captain smells an opportunity to ruin someone's day."
"He does seem to have a sixth sense for that," Eddie adds sullenly. Buck makes a note to ask him what that was about. Later.
"I'll walk you out," Buck says, trying not to sound like a pouting child. He's fairly certain he fails, because Tommy laces their fingers together and gives his hand a comforting squeeze.
He says his goodbyes, the whole time being careful not to dislodge the kitten while she crawls across his shoulders.
Buck goes through the list of kitten care basics he memorized as they make their way to the parking lot. It's...more than he thought it was, honestly. It starts to feel overwhelming as he goes on, and on, and on. He's running out of time to get it all out, and he feels like it's just now sinking in his huge this responsibility that he's dumping in Tommy's lap is.
"You're sure you don't mind taking her?" The question bursts out of Buck before they make it to Tommy's car. "W-we didn't really, I mean. We talked about it over the phone, but..."
"Yeah, now that I've seen her she does seem like a real handful."
The kitten yawns, and curls up into a tiny grey ball in the crook of Tommy's neck.
Well. Alright.
"It's just, t-they need a lot of attention when they're that young, and I kinda just, just dropped this on you."
"Evan." Tommy gives him a look. "Are you worried that you baby-trapped me?"
Okay, when he puts it like that. Maybe a little bit. But also now he's having complicated yearning feelings that he really should not be having this early in the relationship.
Buck's pretty sure he looks like a deer in the headlights right now, because Tommy's doing his damnedest to pretend he isn't laughing at him.
He tugs Buck's hand, leading him the rest of the way to his car.
The backseat is full of cat stuff. Containers of milk-replacement powders, and a shiny plastic litter box, and toys, so many toys, baggies of fake mice and feathery things, just. So much stuff. Piles of it.
"I called up a friend who used to foster kittens. She had a lot of advice. And then I got a little carried away."
"I, uh. See that," Buck laughs breathlessly.
"Over the phone, you sounded like this meant a lot to you? And I think I got really attached to the idea of...this. Taking care of her for you. With you." He sounds hesitant, like he's trying not to say too much, and Buck can't stand itâ
"I love you so much," he says in a rush.
"Well, good," Tommy purses his lips around a smile, eyes bright and crinkled at the corners. He reaches up to his shoulder, like he's absent-mindedly checking to see if the kitten's still there. "Wouldn't want her to grow up in a broken home."
Buck huffs a laugh.
"And I love you too."
#bucktommy#bucktommy fic#evan buckley#tommy kinard#911 abc#a raven's writing desk#technically also inspired by a tumblr post but#just the general idea of buck finding a kitten while he's at work?#i was originally gonna have gerrard feature and have some ''oh no we have to hide the kitten'' hijinks#but i didnt feel like bringing him into it lmao#wanted to focus more on the Supportive Boyfriend Tommy angle and them being like well i guess we're dads now lmao
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BOWUIGI CONCEPT!!
The brothers' parents are totally ok with Luigi being with Bowser, I mean; good father, rich, has his own kingdom, what's it not to love????
Mario though? Completely disapproves! But has to put up with Bowser on their family dinners, outings and holidays.
Just imagine that poor plumber going nuts, having to be polite in front of his parents, but exchanging death threats the second he and Bowser are alone.
#bowuigi#bowigi#bowser junior#bowser x luigi#luigi x bowser#bowser#luigi#mario movie spoilers#kinda? i don't know if the parents are spoilery#mario#mario movie#super mario#1k#I CANNOT believe this is my most popular post til now#you know what? in 1.5k I'll write a bowugi fic with this concept#if no one will#Then I guess I'll have to#1.5k#1.8#2k#oh gog#WHY#2.1k#why you guys keep adding fuel to this?
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Was it scary when you met your culinary idol and he stared at you like heâd found his? Was it scary when he told you that you are everything else? Was it scary how much he trusted you with everything so quickly? Was it scary when he confided in you for the first time about his brother? Was it scary when he defended you stabbing his cousin? Was it scary when he turned out to be exactly who you didnât want him to be but different? Was it scary when he apologized to you first? Was it scary when you accepted his offer to share a dream? Was it scary when you didnât shirk off the way his hands always seem to find their way on you? Was it scary when his focus left you? Was it scary when he asked you how you were feeling? Was it scary when he promised not to let your fail? Was it scary when he gifted you custom chef whites? Was it scary when he asked you to keep his brotherâs final words at your expo station? Was it scary when he screamed out for you during the soft opening of your restaurant? Was it scary when he said he was never going to let it happen again? Was it scary when he offered you a third share of his restaurant in an official contract? Was it scary when his mental health started deteriorating in front of you but you still wanted to take care of him? Was it scary when you got an offer for something more perfect and didnât immediately run away? Was it scary when you tried to find the words to tell him what you were really feeling and couldn't? Was it scary when he demanded you take your place at his side amongst some of the best chefs in the world? Was it scary when you realized maybe you can't leave him because there's too much love shared between you?
Sydneyâs never going to grow if she doesnât learn how to get over her fears. Her fear of failure and her fear of losing the people that she loves. Loving somebody is a truly scary thing but at some point weâve got to stop running away if what we want and who we need has been right there.
#ok this is the last one#sydcarmy#I love my pookie bears#I love their imperfect love story#they are both so confused and so damaged in the same but different ways#and once they realize this itâs going to be so glorious#see Carmy is not all bad#they truly make me sick#carmy x sydney#the Bear meta#I guess#Iâm going back to fic writing now
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I LOVE Teen Stan and Ford, itâs sad they donât get drawn enough, so thank you so much!
Does Ford ever help Stan when he gets overstimulated? Or maybe when he has a rage response and suddenly starts crying and calls himself stupid?
Here's the other post with Ford
#I am once again asking someone to write me a fic about these two posts. pretty please đ„ș#this took me way too long to think off#the dialogue was escaping me#if you can guess what the book he's reading is... you won't win anything I just think it would be cool#maybe Stan got upset about his grades. or a boxing match ir something#sometimes I too bite myself. not deep enough to draw blood but enough to bruise. it's gotten better over the tears but still#now and then...#anywayszzzzzzzz#ask#anonymous#gravity falls#stan pines#stanley pines#stanford pines#ford pines#teen stan#teen ford#art#fanart#traditional art#watercolor#the last few drawings came out so nicely#both of them are emotionally constipated in their teen years (and onwards honestly) so instead of addressing the crying they ignore it#they pretend it never happened#btw here you can see my (successful) attempt at putting Ford out of the picture so I don't have to draw more#comic#long post#look at their socks#I forgot the 's' in 'books' I'm so stupid god
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Worship.
Another pic in the style of the previous one.
I'm so sorry that I don't really have the time now to make something uh... good and more polished? Every day I come back home dead tired & I'm painfully slow at drawing. Oh the suffering. :( But I'm working on something interesting rn, stay tuned
#destiny 2#destiny the game#destiny fanart#the witness#rhulk#rhulk destiny#art#rhulk/the witness#fandom brainrot is real#ill write a fic at some point with these two#hello again fellow rhulkwitness enjoyers i guess im in your club now??
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