#I hope this device helps prevent me from straining my eyes so much

[applejarjar]

it's slowly coming together lol

at least it doesn't still look like an aluminum hurricane came through here

I'm excited about this magnifying arm, it'll take some getting used to, but I think it'll be well worth it!

[merakiui]

i need to hear your thoughts on anything about yan! alhaitham i don’t know why he has me in such a chokehold on me but he does 😭🙏

It’s the same for me as well. T-T the chokehold is extreme. I’ve heard his rerun may be coming soon and I fear for my restraint. Is one Alhaitham worth more than Scara constellations???? ｡ﾟ(ﾟ´ω`ﾟ)ﾟ｡

I may not have many coherent yan!Alhaitham thoughts to share, but there is one that’s been taking up residence in my head a lot recently. It’s a concept in which Alhaitham confines you to his house, but he can’t always stay at home to watch you and he isn’t so cruel that he’d lock you up and prevent you from getting proper exercise. He allows you the mobility, so long as you won’t leave the house. To ensure your obedience, he’s put a tracking cuff on your ankle. It’s essentially the Teyvat-equivalent of modern day house arrest. T-T he’ll know the minute you take one step out of the house or if you try to remove the cuff, and though you’ve never known Alhaitham to be violent you’re still unsure of the lengths he’d go to to keep you hidden like a secret.

Only you’re not a secret, at least not one that only Alhaitham keeps.

Kaveh never says much regarding your predicament when Alhaitham’s around (you think he’s given up trying to debate the oh-so-rational Alhaitham on why keeping you here is necessary), so instead he keeps quiet. It’s obvious he disagrees; you can tell when he looks at you with so much pity softening his eyes. When Alhaitham isn’t home, you try to convince Kaveh to help. You pull all the tricks you know: sad eyes, weeping, complaining, bemoaning your stifled future, pleading for freedom, persuading him to help you now otherwise he continues to keep this terrible, horrible, criminal secret regarding your whereabouts. Kaveh breaks by the second week, but truthfully he’s been on your side the minute you became an addition to the house.

He sits you down at the table and, very seriously, asks if you have a plan. You tell him you can’t leave or else the tracker will notify Alhaitham and it’ll just leave you under more surveillance—or worse: permanently shackled. You’re trying to avoid a punishment and Kaveh understands. You also don’t want Alhaitham to know you’ve found an ally in Kaveh, though both of you know it won’t take much for him to predict and suspect. You and Kaveh plan over tea every day Alhaitham’s busy, swapping ideas like one might trade cards. And when Kaveh can’t be home, you’re mulling over the situation, hoping to find some loophole Alhaitham has yet to close. You’re always second-guessing yourself. If you do find a loophole, what if he’s intentionally left it open? But then how far ahead could he possibly think? And does he really know how to predict your every move? Surely not, right?

Eventually you realize something. The tracker may have technology you’re not very well-versed in, but surely Kaveh knows something. And something is better than nothing. You sit down with him one day and blurt the question: “Is it possible to re-wire the device so it’ll stop sending regular location updates to Alhaitham?”

“So, in other words, you mean you want to break the signal?”

“More or less.”

Kaveh drums his fingers on the table, considering it. “It’s possible,” he says after a silent minute. “But he’ll notice.”

“I’ll be gone by then.”

“You really think you can outrun him?”

“I’d rather test what little odds I have than let this chance slip away.” You take Kaveh’s hands in yours and squeeze reassuringly. “I’ll pay you. I’ll find a way to give you enough so you can get your own place. Or we could leave together. We could be roommates instead!”

Kaveh’s chuckle comes out strained, more wheeze than actual laughter. “It sounds great in theory. In practice, it’s more complicated than simple wishful thinking.”

“Then help me with the device first.”

Kaveh slips a hand out from your hold, and at first he intends to run it through his hair. But instead he places it over yours. “We’ll need a plan…and a back-up plan. This isn’t something we can do overnight. One misstep and you’ll fail, (Name). You have to take every little detail into account. Alhaitham is meticulous. You need to be even more meticulous.”

“I know. I…” You exhale an exhausted breath. This situation is far from ideal. “I know. I can wait. I’ve been obedient and cooperative. He won’t suspect a thing.”

Kaveh’s smile is thin. Somehow he doesn’t believe that, and neither do you when, hours later at dinner, Alhaitham asks if you’ve busied yourself with a new puzzle lately. You think it’s a trick question, but then you’ve been pondering for too long because he adds, “You’ve filled the workbook, haven’t you?”

Right. The workbooks he brings you. They’re simple puzzles: crosswords and whatnot. It’s meant to keep your brain sharp, to give you something to do so you can’t complain that Alhaitham treats you like a prisoner because, in his words, “Are prisoners awarded the right to entertain themselves with brain games?” Right. Just the workbook puzzles. He wasn’t referring to anything else.

You think you’re in the clear when you give your response and dinner carries on as it usually does. But you still can’t shake the feeling that he’s seen through you…

As you’re clearing your place at the table, Alhaitham, who is never one for pointless conversations, says, “You spend a while in the kitchen during the day. Is there something particularly riveting in there?”

You look at him. The kitchen is where you meet with Kaveh to discuss strategies. Of course he’d recognize an unusual pattern. He’s always so observant. But then he wouldn’t know Kaveh keeps you company. He wouldn’t know. He doesn’t know.

He doesn’t know.

“Nothing special,” you say, shrugging, feigning nonchalance.

Alhaitham is quiet. The gears in his brain are turning, no doubt. Before he can come to a conclusion—the correct conclusion, you keep thinking—Kaveh comes to your rescue. He makes a show of tripping on his way to the sink, his plate crashing to the floor with a noisy clatter. It shatters and he curses, chiding himself for his clumsiness.

“That was my favorite plate, too!” he mourns with a groan, gathering the shards, exchanging a sharp glance with you from his place on the floor.

Alhaitham’s expression doesn’t change, but he says, “The plates look the same, Kaveh.”

“No, they don’t. Their differences are subtle, but I wouldn’t expect someone like you, who lacks an eye for aesthetics, to recognize it.”

And so their debate begins, and for the moment you’re spared. Thankfully. But Alhaitham never takes his eyes off of you, even when you’re in his peripheral, as if he intends to dissect you with a calculating stare. You have to be sneakier next time. No more kitchen discussions.

You’ll move rooms often. He can’t catch another pattern if you aren’t settling into one, right?

[joongernaut]

For your event can I request 24, 27, and 136 for Yuta 🫣 I'm afraid he has me in a chokehold once again

pairing: reader x nakamoto yuta

genre/warnings: smut, roommate!yuta, mentions of masturbation, vaginal penetration, protected sex (i finally remembered to write it in omg), use of a hitachi wand/sex toy

word count: 872

A/N: so so understandable 🫣 hope this feeds into the chokehold! and thanks for being my first request for this hehe

you were thankful to have someone like yuta as your roommate, being a nice addition to your living space and a pleasant surprise in contrast to your initial overthinking.

you weren’t really in the position to be too picky on who you would let room in the shared space since you needed someone to split the cost of rent and utilities. worried that you would have to suck it up and be with a complete stranger, yuta had been your saving grace. a friendly, familiar face you had soon grown comfortable enough with to allow him into your home and he treated it as such with the utmost respect.

always considerate, always understanding, always willing to help you out with whatever you needed whenever you needed it. even now as yuta sat on sunken knees on the comforter of your bed between your bare, shaking thighs, he wanted to provide you with as much help as possible.

“i just want to please you, baby. will you let me?” his question came out as a purr as he ground his hips into yours, the friction on your bare lower half making you want to snap your legs shut if it weren't for his tone body preventing the action.

you didn't expect yuta to be home any time soon tonight with his schedule being all over the place. it would've been the perfect time for you to lay back, relax, and get yourself off the way you wanted to. how were you supposed to know that he would come home early and practically barge in on you, nearly naked with your wand in hand and in use?

he hadn't meant to come into your room like that, he simply thought something was wrong with you from the way you were groaning inside of your bedroom and wanted to make sure you weren't hurt. but you were quite the opposite.

“please, yuta... will you?” you pleaded softly, your hands clutching at the material of his joggers as you slowly inched them lower. with your voice sounding like that he could only let you continue on, his fingers nimbly trailing through the wetness between your legs as you freed him from his sweatpants. “what kind of roommate would i be if i didn't help out, huh?” he cooed at you, shooting you a toothy grin as he fished out a condom from his pocket.

he momentarily stopped his fingers on you to give his dick a few pumps, your arousal still on the digits serving as lubricant that had him hardening quickly, before tearing the package and slipping on the condom. he rubbed himself along your folds making you squirm in anticipation and then, with one fluid push forward, he was sheathed inside of you.

“tell me how you like it.” yuta’s voice strained as your walls constricted around him, leaning forward so his hands were on either side of your face as he rocked into you. your teeth sunk into your bottom lip, your pussy already being sensitive from you previously edging yourself before yuta had interrupted, and your hands found purchase on his hips as if you could bring him any closer. “a little faster.” you moaned, eyes fluttering close when he followed through with your request.

they shot open a moment later when you felt the familiar sensation of the head of your vibrator, looking down between your bodies to see the wand in yuta’s hand. “can i use this on you? it looked like you were really enjoying it earlier.” he asked while trailing the wand along your stomach and you nodded breathlessly as he gave you a smirk in return.

you let out a small gasp when he turned it on, the hum of the device resounding in the room as you felt the vibrations travel lower. “fuck—! oh my god!” you moaned once the vibration touched your clit, your eyes closing tightly again as you clenched around him hard making his hips stutter.

“there we go… bet this feels so much better with my dick in you rather than your fingers.” yuta grunted, picking up speed in his thrusts as moans feel out of your mouth. “wonder what’ll happen if i do… this?” he questioned, pressing a button that had you nearly thrashing under him as the vibrations grew stronger.

you were embarrassingly wet, feeling the dribble of arousal flow out of you with each stroke and you knew you weren't going to last once yuta pressed the button on the wand again making the vibrations even stronger. “c-cumming! fuck, i’m cumming-” you didn't even know you were so close until it hit you like freight train, your arms flying over face to cover your eyes.

“don’t cover your face, i want to see you.” he said, his tone more soft than demanding as he leaned back to watch you ride out your orgasm. your hips bucked wildly, a sheen of sweat covering your skin as your whole body shook from your release, looking properly messed up from his cock still buried deep inside of you.

“okay… okay, i won't,” you said through heavy pants, gripping onto his shoulders tightly before bringing him back down towards you. “just… please, don’t stop.”

[buckyownsmylife]

Follow you - Chris Evans smut

The one where Chris becomes your roomate and finds out he has a domesticity kink... and more

Warnings: Smut, breeding kink, domesticity kink, friends to lovers, rommates au, pandemic mention, hair-pulling kink, daddy kink, cockwarming, kind of allusion to an age gap, but can be read as reader being into teasing chris

Word count: 4.1k

A/N: Thanks to @mollygetssherlockcoffee​ for reading this over and helping me make it better! You’re the sweetest person ever!  this is for my own birthday celebration challenge! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them. Hope you guys like it!

Chris’ P.O.V.

“C’mon, sweetheart,” I’d been trying to convince her to close her laptop for the last two hours, unfortunately without any luck. She just glanced at me before returning to her document, and I groaned as I left the living room in search of what I knew we needed.

“Close the laptop and I’ll give you a sip.” This time when she looked up, she found me holding a bottle of my most expensive whiskey, the one she’d been dying to try ever since she first got invited to my place.

It was a tense moment of evaluation while she took in my offer and her workload, her head turning from her computer to me and then back to the device again, and I found himself growing anxious because of how desperately I wanted her company that night.

“Please?” I tried to convince her, even going so far as to pout - which at least earned me a giggle. I considered it a win, especially with the way it made my chest warm up. “C’mon, we deserve it! After the week we had?”

She frowned when she thought back on the stresses we had confided in each other for the last couple of days, and I watched with glee when she slowly closed her laptop, prompting me to wave my arms around in victory. “We?” She teased, getting up to stand before me with her arms crossed in front of her body, making me laugh.

“Alright, so maybe just you.” I couldn’t really deny that my work “problems” paled in comparison to hers. “Listen, I’m only trying to help.” She narrowed her eyes at me, reaching out for the bottle and unscrewing it before taking the sip I’d promised.

“Shit, this really is good.” A smug smile took over my face as I wrapped my arms around her, walking us back to the couch before making us fall over it.

“Only the best for you, babe.” I watched her roll her eyes at the pet name, snickering at how it affected her. I knew it made her giddy and she hated it, it’s why I insisted on doing it - or so I told myself.

Something deep inside of me whispered differently, though. I tried to ignore it. She was my best friend and we were going to be living together for the foreseeable future. No one knew when this pandemic would let up.

And lord knows that nothing positive had ever come out of my investments in romantic relationships. So every rational thought in my mind was begging me not to overcomplicate this. I couldn’t stand to lose her friendship, anyway. That’s why I had invited her to spend lockdown with me - my need to know she was okay, and be able to have her around whenever I needed to vent.

She was the only one outside my family who got my anxiety well enough to help me work through it when I was feeling bad, and she had even been able to prevent me from having panic attacks more than once.

I just couldn’t imagine going through this with anyone other than her. I simply hadn’t anticipated how fucking horny this period of forced sexual privation would make me, and I never expected her to become a willing victim to my needs.

But boy, once the liquor hit and she ended up over my lap, shivering as she rode my thigh without a care in the world, was I glad that she did.

“Is this what you like?” I asked, looking up at her with my mouth hanging open, unbelieving of how fucking sexy she looked as she used my body for her pleasure. I didn’t even care that my cock was straining against my jeans, begging me to move her on top of it. As long as I could keep enjoying the show, being a part of it, I was satisfied.

“I wanna learn it,” I pressed, moving my hands to hold her ass, squeezing it the way I’d always wanted to do but never allowed myself to dream about. “I wanna learn how to please you.” She made me feel something I hadn’t felt before, in any of my past relationships. There was attraction, of course, but there was also this deep, familiar feeling that made me feel at home. It made me feel safe, and with the help of alcohol, I was desperate to explore it.

“Ugh,” she groaned, letting her head fall back, drawing my attention to her breasts, the way they bounced in front of my eyes, unfortunately still covered. My mouth watered at the sight of it, wanting nothing much than to strip her bare and wrap my lips around one of her nipples.

“Don’t say stuff like that, Evans.” The comment threw me off, making me frown as I took a hold of the hair on the back of her head and yanked her to me, devouring her lips. They were soft - so much softer than I’d ever allowed myself to imagine.

“Why not?” I panted against her mouth once I was forced to separate from her taste of whiskey to search for some oxygen. She kept moving, her eyes hazy and glossed over, and it sent a pang of lust straight down my body when I realized it wasn’t completely due to the drinks we shared. There was also desire in there.

“You want to learn?” She asked, hands bunching up my shirt as she used her hold to grind against me faster. “Then fuck me, Chris.” She molded her body to mine, engulfing my lips once more as I laid her down on the couch, excited to have her underneath me - excited to see her naked body, explore it, get to know every little thing that made her tick.

I knew it would be a moment I’d forever remember, regardless of the amount of bourbon in my blood. I just never expected it to become something I was so eager to relive over and over and over again.

It was supposed to be a one time thing. When I woke up in the morning, I was ready to go back to being roommates. We were good at that. She was a morning person, by the time I woke up every morning, she already had breakfast ready for me, and then we’d go out to the backyard to let Dodger out together.

We’d sit and talk and then I’d go for a run - she’d have done her yoga already, while I was still asleep - I’d answer some e-mails, she’d work on her laptop by my side and the silence was just as comfortable as all of our late night conversations.

She’d sneak out to the kitchen and come back with a few sandwiches for our lunch, and then the rest of the day would go by with us doing whatever mundane task we had in mind, together even if we were doing separate things, and I didn’t feel suffocated.

I didn’t even run out of things to say. By the time dinner rolled around and I followed her back to the kitchen, cleaning up the dishes while she fixed us dinner - I wasn’t allowed to cook in my own stove, mostly because she was terrified of my food but hid it under the excuse of that one time when I started a fire - then we’d eat together, watch a movie together, talk until we fell asleep - always together.

I was shocked. It’d never been this way in any of my previous relationships. In fact, I was certain it was the reason why they had never worked. I’d given up on any realistic expectation of settling down precisely because of this: I just never expected to find anyone with whom a day-to-day life wouldn’t eventually grow boring.

It’d been three months and I still loved to wake up to her coffee. We still fell asleep every night side by side, too tired to move into different beds because we had laughed our asses off after skyping Scott.

And now that sex came into play in our relationship? I just knew there was no way I’d ever go back to being nothing but friends - or living in a place where she wasn’t the first person I saw when I woke up.

It sucked that it took a pandemic and a night of alcohol to make me realize that, but damn, was I grateful that I decided to open a bottle of whiskey that evening.

I kept waiting for the catch, the moment it would all go to shit, but it never came. Our lives resumed to how they used to be, only now I had this ongoing inner battle to not just bend her over the nearest piece of furniture when we were busy, and the ability to do exactly that whenever there was nothing else to do.

And for a while it was bliss. There wasn’t a nagging voice inside my head questioning this arrangement because it was theoretically perfect. I had a best friend, a roommate and a fuck buddy, all wrapped into one single person that I adored.

Life couldn’t possibly get better - until I realized that I wanted more. Talks of lockdown being over started and she had plans of going back to her place, of course, but I couldn’t stand the thought of being away from her.

I wanted to see my family too, but I wanted to take her with me. Introduce her to my mom, see her get along with my sisters. Witness how she’d be with my nephews and nieces - I knew how much she loved kids. And that’s when it hit me.

I’d given my heart to her. Somewhere between the morning coffees and afternoon runs, the nights where I’d rant about all of my silly problems and she actually listened to them - really listened, never making me feel bad about what could only be described as rich people problems.

All the innocent little gestures, and the not so innocent ones - when I discovered she was exactly the nasty slut I’d always dreamed of, the way she would randomly drop to her knees and suck me off, even while I was on the phone. Most times she didn’t even let me repay the favor. She just genuinely liked to blow me.

She also liked to play with me randomly, like when we were watching a movie and she mindlessly reached for my crotch, rubbing me until I got hard. It almost always ended in sex, and I just loved it.

I loved it, and I loved her, and the idea of her ever sharing this idyllic lifestyle with anyone else made me irrationally jealous.

And that’s how I knew it. I didn’t want to mess it up. But how could I not fuck this up?

Xxx

“Chris…” Her sweet voice called out to me, reaching my ears while I was hiding in my office, trying to get my thoughts in order so I wouldn’t just randomly blurt out what I was feeling for my best friend to my best friend.

To her credit, she didn’t try to force me to keep her company - but that only made me fall even deeper for her, leaving me a complete and utter mess while she went about her day as if nothing was wrong in the world.

“Yes?” I looked up to see her by the threshold, clearly reticent about invading my privacy. It made me smile, thinking back on all of the times my exes hadn’t been as understanding, even after I let them clearly know what I was needing.

“I made cupcakes, do you want me to bring you one?” The thought of her in the kitchen, baking a sweet treat just for me had my cock twitching in my pants. Biting my lips, I pushed away from my desk to finally get up and stretch my legs, taking advantage of the monitor to hide my hard-on.

“No, I’ll come eat them downstairs with you.” She smiled before leaving, and I soon trailed after her, walking into the kitchen to find the most delicious-looking little treats, just waiting to be devoured.

Much like her, I supposed.

I was reaching for one of them, already licking my lips in anticipation when something caught my eye, prompting me to raise my gaze and look at her again, but really look at her this time.

She was wearing an apron.

There was nothing inherently sexual about the damn thing, but the way she looked with it, going about her business in my kitchen like she owned the place… It just felt right, seeing her there.

And suddenly I couldn’t hold back anymore.

“Y/N…” I started, leaving the cupcake back on the counter and brushing off the crumbs as I circled the kitchen island to go stand in front of her. She hummed before turning to meet me, smiling slightly to signal that she was listening to what I had to say.

But I didn’t know how to say it. So we just stood there, staring at each other until eventually her smile became a frown. “Chris, what’s going on?” I still couldn’t speak. Much to my absolute surprise though, she just sighed, wiping her hands on the apron while shaking her head, a knowing smile on her face.

“You’re stressed, aren’t you? You’ve been working so much, that’s why I thought the cupcakes would be a good idea,” she explained nodding towards the tray where her sweet treats laid. “They’re a reward and a break all wrapped in one delicious cake.”

The comment was like a punch to the stomach - or a scalding wave of desire rushing through my body, straight to my groin. The idea of her thinking about my needs and catering (quite literally) to them just did something to me, and I didn’t know how to explain it - I don’t think I understood it myself.

“But since they didn’t work…” she continued, blissfully unaware of the conundrum she had put me into. “I know something else that will definitely work.” And just like that, the woman dropped to her knees in front of me, reaching for my sweatpants before I could find a way to close the mouth that was hanging open.

“I guess I’ll grab a sweet treat for myself.” She looked so devious, small hand encircling my already pathetically engorged member, that all I could do was whisper an, “Oh, shit,” when she immediately wrapped her lips around it,  starting to suck me off without any preamble.

My fingers were white as I held onto the counter behind me to keep myself up. She looked so good, staring up at me with her lips wrapped around my dick, I felt like I was about to blow already.

Why did she have to be such a fucking tease?

“Oh, God,” I moaned when she managed to engulf the entirety of my member inside her throat, the choking noises getting to my head. My hand instinctively laced with her hair, first to hold her lips close to my navel, then to pry her completely off of my member.

“What’s wrong?” She questioned once she was able to speak, surprise written all over her features while I was still staring down at her slightly teary face and trying to find my voice.

“I-I have a problem.” There. I said it. I had finally made some progress in my goal to let her know what was going through my head. Only instead of curiosity, what I got was a confused expression from the woman still holding my dick, her eyes darting from my own to the member throbbing between her fingers.

“No, you don’t!” It would have been funny if I wasn’t so fucking frustrated. Yanking her by the hair, I complained, “Not that kind of problem!” pulling her to the living room so I could throw her on the couch, trying to ignore her moans of pleasure in the process.

I’d figured out pretty early on that she had a pretty serious hair-pulling kink, and if my plans of sitting down and having a level-headed conversation were ever in motion, they surely went out of the window the second she pulled my body down to cover hers and adjusted my cock so it would easily fill her.

“Son of a…” I groaned, letting my head fall down against her chest as the little vixen gleefully giggled underneath me, legs wrapped around my torso as she tried to thrust up and tempt me to move.

“Just wait a second,” I managed to reason, but she just shook her head.

“Fuck away your problem, Chris. Use me. I want you to.” Motherfucker. I really couldn’t catch a break with her. Just as she started to make me move again, my hand instinctively wrapped around her neck, lightly squeezing it just enough to get her to shut up.

“I wanna start a family with you,” I finally spilled, looking deep into her eyes as I tried to ignore that I was still balls deep inside of her. Her eyes widened, and now her mouth was the one hanging open.

I couldn’t really relish in it because she looked absolutely delicious and she felt stupidly heavenly to my throbbing dick.

A few seconds went by without as much of a reaction from her and I was about to pull out - despite still being achingly hard - but her legs held me tighter, stopping my plans of leaving her tight haven.

“You know…” She started to speak, a little out of breath, catching my attention as I finally gathered the courage to look her in the eye again. “When I first met you, I thought you were the epitome of a fuckboy.”

The unexpected sentence had me snorting, and then I just couldn’t stop laughing. Finally pulling away from her, she fixed her hair when she sat up and I did the same, shaking my head slightly as I rubbed my eyes.

Our own relative nakedness - well… mine, she was wearing her usual dress with no underwear under the damn apron - didn’t affect anything when I pondered over her words, until I decided to break the silence.

“I mean… I think I was?” She chewed on her bottom lip as she took in my response, analyzing it, weighing its validity in that gorgeous head of hers. I was nervous, but she hadn’t blew me off yet. And quite honestly? I’d do anything for that little hope that was growing inside of me.

“What changed?” Was her question, so unexpected I couldn’t help but question, “Huh?”

“What made you change?” It wasn’t an unwelcome inquiry, especially when the response became clear to me, lighting up my brain and warming my chest, spreading all over my body until I had no choice but to voice it.

“I realized I could have a future with you.” My smile was vulnerable but honest, and in her eyes, I could see that she knew that. When she threw one leg over my lap, straddling my hips, I allowed myself to breathe deeply again, leaning on the soft cushion while taking a hold of her ass.

“So, how are we gonna do this?” She non-nonchalantly asked, slowly rubbing herself against my still half-hard member. I groaned when I realized the implication of her words, knowing that the meaning paired with the feeling of her wet lips dragging along my cock would get it back up in no time at all. “You wanna do me right now?”

The brashness of the question made my eyes light up, as weird as it may sound. In that moment, it became clear just how perfect for me she really was, giving me what I needed exactly in the way I didn’t know how to ask for it.

“See? This is why I’m in love with you.” She rolled her eyes at that, making me laugh. I’d anticipated the gesture, I knew it’d take her longer to say it, but it was alright. The fact that she was willing me to give me a child was more than enough proof of her feelings for me, if her entire behavior ever since she moved in wasn’t already.

“Shut up and fuck me, Evans.” Throwing her back against the couch, she yelped in surprise when I took off my shirt and slapped the inside of her thigh, assuming my usual position of hovering over her smaller frame.

“Spread your fucking legs, darling. I’m gonna fuck you real good.” The way she bit her lip as I slowly penetrated her again showed me just how excited the prospect got her, and as I started to make good on my promise, her moans told me just as much.

“Holy fuck,” she commented as I pounded her ruthlessly, weeks of frustration and the rush of anticipation getting the best of me, and I was glad for the feeling of her nails biting into my skin because otherwise, I’d probably run over the edge of not even caring about her own pleasure as I chased mine.

“You gonna cum inside of me, honey? Make me a mom? Finally fulfill your dream of becoming a daddy?” Her words detracted me from my task of sucking bruises on the skin that was now mine to bruise, mine. I threw my head back, yelling a, “fuck yes,” as my hips sped up, desperate to fill her up, but I was determined to get her to cum before me.

“Say it,” she ordered, small hand circling my throat as best as she could, a throwback to what I’d done only moments prior. It wasn’t enough to choke me, but it did catch my attention. “I wanna hear you say it.”

Tears escaped the corners of my eyes as I blinked, the intensity of the moment overwhelming in the best of ways. “God, you are such a fucking tease…” She chuckled underneath me, giving my throat a squeeze before she raised up on her elbows to kiss my jaw.

“Better get used to it… daddy.” And just like that, I realized that I had yet another kink I hadn’t known about before her. Or maybe it was just her, and I was obsessed with the damn woman, painfully turned on by every little thing that she did.

“I’m gonna cum deep inside your little pussy, sweetheart,” I finally gathered myself enough to do as she asked me to. “You’re gonna belong to me forever now. Give me kids, make me happy. How do you like that?”

The mischievous grin she gave me told me everything. “I love it.” I knew this was her way of saying what she couldn’t yet voice, and I’d take it. I’d take anything she gave me, any chance I got to love this wonderful woman.

We came together, both riding our highs in deep ecstasy. I moaned when I felt myself empty all of my seed inside of her, incredibly excited about the prospect of starting our future together right then.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.” I cradled her face in my hands as I struggled to catch my breath, but she turned it to the side and pressed a kiss to my palm and I was breathless all over again. It was such a simple action, why did it get to me so much?

“You’re not too bad yourself, Chris.” I didn’t want to part with her warmth, so I just adjusted us on the sofa in a way that kept me inside of her, sighing contently as I realized I’d never have to sleep away from her again.

“I’m gonna stay right here all night.” I adjusted myself so I was resting my face on her boobs, perfectly happy to do just so, but by the tone of her voice, I knew she had a teasing smile when she called me an, “Old man.”

“And here I was, thinking you’d be able to go again.” Warmth filled my chest at the realization of just how badly she wanted me - just as much as I wanted her too. I was so damn ecstatic. Not even her pokes at my age would be able to affect me.

“Oh, darling… better get ready,” I warned as I adjusted myself to hover over her again, taking notice of the excited glint in her eyes, the way she bit her lip as she stared back at me. “I’m never gonna get enough of you.”

The next morning, I added a new kink to the list of random bits of information that were driving me slowly insane as I felt the overwhelming need to bend the woman that I now got to call ‘mine’ over the nearest piece of furniture and rail her until I had cummed deep inside her pussy: seeing her in my shirt while cooking breakfast.

Yeah, I was going to live a happy life by her side.

[supergraphicultramoderngirl]

sweet like the thunder on my tongue

pairing: willex

word count: 2786

tw for light swearing

It tumbles out of his mouth before he could even think about it: “But I don’t have any powers.”

Caleb smirks. “And who told you that?”

or, in which willie realizes his true strength.

taglist is in the reblogs, fic is under the cut!

—————

“Willie?”

The skater’s head pops up, cutting off the conversation he was having to look over at his boss.

“Can I see you for a moment? In my office?” Caleb gestures toward the stairwell.

Wordlessly, Willie follows him, only growing concerned when they walk right past the office and towards another room at the end of the hall which he’d never paid any mind to before. Was that door even there before? “Caleb, what’s going on?”

Caleb opened the door to the room and ushered him inside-- well, more shoved, but who is Willie to talk back to him right now-- while all Willie could do was look around and wait for Caleb to say something. The room was dark-- pitch black, actually, and he couldn’t see anything inside. He could now barely see his own hands, if not for the single hanging light above Caleb’s head as he stood in the hallway still, blocking the doorframe. With a wave of his fingers, Caleb pushed Willie down into some kind of, apparently, vantablack chair, metal clamps fastening around his wrists as soon as he reached the seat. Caleb leaned against the doorframe, seemingly inspecting his nails. “You’ve betrayed me, William.”

Willie steels himself, squeezing his eyelids shut, and replies, “I, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” His efforts to cover his tracks were pitiful, to be completely honest. He wasn’t sure how much energy he had left at that point; before he’d met the band— before he’d met Alex— he thought that the best thing about the afterlife was that he could do what he wanted for as long as he wanted, day in and day out, as long as he came back to the club to do the shows. But now, his entire perspective has been shaken up, and he’s honestly gotten sick of doing the same things every single day. Why should he go see the same sights he’s seen since 1983 when he could be screaming in a museum, or stealing an entire fucking bus, or anything that can actually make a connection between him and another person?

Except, now he can’t even do that anymore. His connections are gone. They all crossed over (except for Julie, who never saw him in the first place), and he was left to his own devices, again. Willie isn’t sure what else there is for him to do, and in all transparency, if he hasn’t figured out his unfinished business yet, he doubts he ever will. Caleb putting him out of his misery now would probably just save him a lot of trouble.

“Don’t be coy,” Caleb jabs at him, standing up straight. “After all I’ve done for you? I gave you a place to stay, food to eat, things to do, and this is how you repay me? You help my recruits escape?”

Willie sighs, the helplessness beginning to overwhelm him. “What does it matter, anyway? They’ve crossed over, you don’t have competition anymore, right?”

“William, the boys are still out there. And they’ve lost their stamps.” Willie freezes. They lost their stamps? Alex is alive— or, at least, as alive as he can be? “Regardless, I have never been worried about competition. Those boys have power, power that could rival my own. I can’t just have that out there in the world, where it could fall into the wrong hands, now, can I?” Caleb sneers, a sickenly sweet smirk on his face.

Furrowing his brows, Willie rushes out in reply, “They’re playing in a pop rock band, they’re practically harmless, what could they even—”

“You don’t get it, do you?” Caleb interrupts, his icy eyes boring into Willie’s own.

Willie shuts his mouth and swallows his nerves. And maybe his pride.

Caleb leans forward, his hands gripping the arms of the chair. “I can’t have anyone’s power rival my own. That would steal away my precious audience, my empire that I’ve built over the last hundred years. Every ghost in my club would otherwise be a threat to me, had they not signed away their powers when they sold me their souls. With their powers under my possession, I have full reign over any paranormal capabilities that this world could possibly hold.” He stands back up. “I’ve kept my enemies close, you could say.”

It tumbles out of his mouth before he could even think about it: “But I don’t have any powers.”

Caleb smirks. “And who told you that?”

Willie was looking right at him. He feels no need to answer, and even if he wanted to, his mouth is going dry and there’s a lump in his throat preventing him from doing anything other than remaining still.

“Don’t get your hopes up about the boys still being here, William,” Caleb says after a moment. “They won’t be when you get out.” He slams the door, leaving Willie in the room, with nothing but dark, dark, dark, alone.

***

“Alright, where’s our first stop?” Luke asks as Julie shrugs her backpack over her shoulder and takes a sip from her water bottle. She and the boys were walking down Sunset Boulevard, her with Airpods in so she could talk to the boys without getting odd looks from others. Julie was planning a sleepover with Flynn for the following night, and the boys jumped at the chance to help her run errands, since hanging out in the studio was getting a little boring.

“Can we stop for pizza? I know we can’t eat it, but at least I can smell it!” Reggie pleads, using his puppy dog eyes.

“Reg, that face only works on Luke and Alex. You can smell it tomorrow night when she’s over, yeah?” Julie jokes. “I was thinking—”

A dark, purple smoke appears in front of them, causing them to stumble and still themselves, the boys’ faces all paling once they realize who’s in front of them.

Caleb smiles, sickeningly sweet. “Hello, boys. And you must be Julie.”

***

He has powers.

Willie has powers, and he hadn’t known this entire fucking time.

This guy, who was supposed to be Willie’s mentor for the past, who knows, thirty-ish years now, who he had once looked up to, who had taken him in has his own, who had given him a way to keep track of time again, who somehow knew he had powers that he couldn’t manage on his own, did all of it for his own advantage. He used him to gain more power and control, while making Willie think he cared. Thirty fucking years.

Right now, he’s trapped in this room, yeah, but Willie feels more suffocated by the hurt and confusion surrounding him more than anything else. He can’t stand that Alex and the boys are probably out there right now, about to be destroyed by Caleb, because of him, again. He hates that nearly all of his afterlife has just been a giant fucking lie. And with these stupid new-but-not-really powers, he doesn’t even know where to start. So, he does what he knows best.

Willie screams.

He cries a bit too, but mostly he screams until his voice grows hoarse.

Ever since he passed away, he’s always loved the feeling that grows in his chest when he screams, knowing that he can just take up so much space without anyone (or at least, anyone important) hearing. It hurts sometimes, obviously, but really it just feels like lightning forming in his veins, sparking against his the walls of his skin, ready to burst through.

He doesn’t notice until he takes a gasp for air that this time, it actually has.

Willie gasps again, this time in shock. It’s a bright, brilliant green, wires of light darting across his fingertips and palms. He doesn’t know what to do with it.

Willie squeezes his eyes shut and makes two fists, willing the stinging of the lightning to go away by distracting himself with the stinging of his own fingernails. He realizes then that he’s created light, that he’s given himself a way out, so he reopens his hands and holds them out, looking for the door that Caleb had previously slammed. He spots it and moves to get up, almost forgetting about his arm braces. He curses under his breath, and begins to rack his brain for a way out of them, the green still dancing around his arms.

He screams again.

***

They’d been cornered into an alleyway, which was probably best for any bystander’s sanity, anyway, but it meant that they were trapped by Caleb. Again.

“What do you want with us?” Luke had asked when Caleb first appeared, walking in front of Julie with a guarding arm.

Caleb had sighed in reply, taking a step forward, “Oh, I’ve decided I don’t need you three anymore. You’re not of any use to me, not without your lifer by your side. Without a life source, you’re about as powerful as any other regular ghost. I just need her.”

Luke stood fully in front of Julie then, Reggie and Alex flanking him to protect her. “You will never get to her,” Alex had chimed in, ice in his tone.

“Bold statement from someone who still chooses to hide behind his friends.” Alex had looked down at his shoes in shame, face turning red. “Oh, don’t worry, we all know you’re not brave enough to take me on by yourself,” Caleb chuckled to himself. “Besides, you boys seem to have forgotten how powerful I am— or can we do without the reminder?” Caleb added, lifting his hand as a wisp of purple smoke curled around it.

Now, after putting up a decent fight, they stand against the building as dark purple webs tangle over them, effectively pinning them down. Julie strains against them as they burn into her skin, pointedly not looking at Caleb who is inches away. Caleb puts a finger to her chin, causing her to look into his eyes. Julie sucks on her teeth, willing herself not to cry any more than she already has. “Quite a shame that such talent, such heart has to go to waste,” Caleb says, before his hand begins to glow in a manner that Julie knows could only lead to her demise.

He’s interrupted, however, by a slew of car alarms going off. Caleb swivels his head to look over at the main road, now realizing that it’s… empty?

Almost moving to walk over, Caleb hesitates just enough for the webs’ strength to weaken, and the boys poof out of their hold. They immediately begin trying to pull the web of magic off of Julie, succeeding in doing so once they notice that Caleb’s attention is no longer on them. He’s in the road now, staring down the horizon line.

“He’s distracted now, let’s poof to the studio to buy some time,” Reggie says, but Luke quickly counters, “Julie can’t poof. We would have to go back down the road, anyway.”

While Luke and Reggie are trying to figure out what to do, Julie’s eyes stray over to Alex, who is now peering around the corner of the building, eyebrows furrowed. He suddenly runs over to the road, and Julie calls after him. The three run to catch up to Alex and stand in terror just a few feet behind Caleb, who is still seemingly frozen in place.

They feel it before they can see it.

The hair on their arms and the backs of their necks begin to stand on end, a quiet humming in the atmosphere causing an adrenaline rush kind of energy around them. The humming thrums into a pulse, concentrating around what Caleb must’ve been looking at; a sharp, sparking green light floating in the air down the road. It grows bigger and bigger, until a silhouette suddenly appears in its place, looking at the ground. “Hey, Caleb!”

Alex’s heart stops when he realizes who it is.

Willie looks up from the ground and begins to make his way over, thunderous step by thunderous step. His eyes shine fully in bright green, almost like the lightning inside of him was leaking out. He reaches forward and a beam of crackling light shoots forward, splitting and clasping itself around Caleb’s wrists in constraint. With rumbling intensity, Willie continues, “You lied to me. You’ve been lying to me my entire afterlife, pretending to care. Every time you stamped someone, you told me it was because they would be dangerous otherwise, that you were just ‘protecting the ghost world’, and then you turn and do it to my friends. You’ve hurt me, you’ve hurt the people I care about, and it doesn’t even matter to you. I don’t even want to know the number of other ghosts you’ve screwed over like you have us.” Willie heaves in a breath, his arm beginning to shake as Caleb tries to overpower him with his own powers. “I can’t let you do this anymore.”

Caleb grits through his teeth, “You don’t get much of a say, William, I own you.”

“Not anymore.” Willie screams again, causing the beam shooting out of his palm to reinforce itself, the sparks around Caleb’s wrists slowly crawling around his skin until it looked like his veins were filled with light. “You aren’t strong enough to beat me, William, I know you more than you know yourself. You can’t do this,” Caleb tries, but Willie just screams louder, drowning him out.

The screams nearly shake the air, causing Julie to lean on Luke for support, with Reggie resting a hand on her shoulder. Alex wants to reach out, to do something, but he knows there’s nothing he really can do to help. He knew Willie was one of a kind, it was obvious from every interaction they’d had up to that point, but he never expected him to be that powerful. It was terrifying, if he was being honest. And Alex didn’t want to be scared of him, especially while he was literally putting his life on the line for them, but it was almost as if Willie was losing control.

Wait.

A small, dwindling purple smoke emits from Caleb’s palms, encircling the cuffs on his wrists, and the green light inside of him dims. Willie is panting in between his screams, running out of energy. Inhaling sharply, Alex doesn’t think twice before bolting over to him, ignoring the protests from his friends.

Alex stands behind him and grips his hands onto Willie’s shoulders, focusing all of his energy into his fingertips, just like he had on that day in the museum. And, just like that day, he screams with Willie, hoping and praying to a god he no longer believes in that it helps, that it works.

It does.

The lightning bursts out at a rapid speed, nearly enveloping Caleb, almost as if it was tearing him apart, atom by atom. It grows brighter, and brighter, and brighter, until—

He’s gone. Small ashes lie in the spot where Caleb once stood, now dissipated into thin air.

Willie collapses to the ground in exhaustion and Alex grasps onto him, as if he’ll disappear himself if he lets go. After a brief moment, Willie takes a sharp breath, wincing in a burning, stinging type of pain, and lets out a breath of relief once it goes away. He knows exactly what that was, he could feel it; his soul was finally back in his body.

Willie looks down at his wrist. The familiar stamp from the Hollywood Ghost Club is still there, however it no longer has its signature purple sheen. It’s black and faded now, like a thirty-year-old tattoo he’s come to regret.

“Are you okay?” Alex asks, pulling away, his face the picture of worry. Willie notices then that Julie, Luke, and Reggie are knelt next to him, too, their own expressions almost as bad as Alex’s.

Willie smiles a sad smile. It’s a weak thing, but it’s genuine. “You’re still here.”

Recognition washes over Alex’s face, and he softly lifts his hand to Willie’s chin. “Of course I am. I told you, I’d follow you anywhere, yeah?”

Willie chuckles and ducks his head. “Yeah, well, somehow, you did.”

Alex lightly pulls on his chin so he can look him in the eye, a burning intensity present there that Willie hasn’t seen in, well, thirty years. “We can explain that later, okay? I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

Willie does a small nod. “I will be.”

Alex pulls him back into a tight hug, and Willie sinks into his arms. He knows they’ll both ask questions later; all that matters right now is that they’re there, that they’ve got each other.

And now, they always will.

[kryptored]

Secure and in place

To celebrate @lovebugs-and-snakecharmers reaching 250 followers, here's a lil' sumn-sumn to commemorate that. And out of the 50 prompts that we had to choose from, I went with number 36: "Helping brush their hair after a shower."

Also, if you've read "Fall" from the LBSC Valentine's Day Exchange event, this fic can be considered some sort of sequel to it. Or not. It can stand on its own, too. And if you haven't, you're more than welcome to check it out :) .

AO3

The bathroom door opens, and out walks Marinette wearing an old beige coloured shirt and white pyjama shorts, her feet warm inside her pastel pink home slippers. Her arms are both raised up, holding and rubbing a towel against her wet hair. Feeling the strain on her arms, she tilts her head down a little, drying her hair as she starts walking towards her card-making room. As she nears the desk where her latest clients’ cards sit, she makes sure to keep her hair from dripping onto the wedding invitation cards by setting a fair distance between her and the desk.

The deadline for the cards and meeting back with the client is in three days, yet Marinette feels proud of herself for finishing it early. Still, she feels as if something was missing. For that reason, she tosses her hair behind her - uncaring of the wet spot it will form on her shirt - and hangs her damp towel on her chair. She puts both of her hands on the desk, leaning on its weight as she regards the cards in front of her. The lettering, the colour palette of white, créme, and lavender, and even the small details of flowers on the borders look just right. Well, it looked almost right. She just wasn’t sure what else to do. Should she use envelopes? A wax seal? Twine? The couple who ordered the cards were more than willing to pay extra, but she also didn’t want to spend more on something that might not work. As her arm reaches from corner to corner and leaning further down onto her desk, Marinette misses Luka entering the room.

In his hands, he carries an open notebook filled with what seemed to be another song he is working on for the band. He stops by the doorway when he looks up from the page, the question on his mind left unsaid. He smiles when he notices that she’s wearing one of his old shirts, big enough to hide almost all of her shorts. He also sees her wet towel hanging on the back of her chair, as well as the wet spot forming on the back of the shirt, and shakes his head. He quietly places his notebook on top of a box beside him and walks towards her, wrapping his arms around her waist.

He hears her gasp in surprise, her still cold hands touching his arms to steady herself, before realizing who is behind her. She turns her head around with a wide smile on her face.

“Hey, you.”

“Hey, yourself.” He drops a kiss on her nose and sees the cards she has been working on for weeks. “Those look great. Does that mean you’re finally done with them?”

“Mm… kind of. I feel like it’s still missing something — just one last thing.”

“I see. Well, I do hope you haven’t forgotten how wet your hair still is.”

“I was in the middle of drying it.”

“Uhuh… Of course you were." He lets go of her, puts his hands on her shoulders, and pushes her down onto the chair. “How about you stay there and see what else you can do with the cards, and I’ll get your brush and hair dryer.”

“Aw… thanks.”

“Do you also want me to tie it up?” He asks her as he walks out backwards.

“Hm… yeah, if you don’t mind.”

“Of course I don’t mind. I’ll be right back.”

As he walks out of the room, Marinette turns back around to the cards. She hums as her fingers play with stray strands of her wet hair, her other hand cautiously touching the edge of each card, as if it would give her the answer to her problem. Her eyes wander around her desk and the shelves containing all her supplies, hoping to see something that will help her. It’s when she’s going from drawer to drawer that she hears Luka’s footsteps coming closer.

“You’re supposed to use heat protectant before using a hair dryer, right?” He asks her, his hand showing her the spray bottle he was referring to.

“Mhm.”

“Okay, good. Let me just put some of the stuff on something.”

From the corner of her eye, she sees Luka walk over and move one of the chairs from the corner closer to him, using it as a small table. He gently nudges her to lean forward to grab her towel, and proceeds to dry her hair with it as much as possible. When he’s satisfied with the lack of dripping, he reaches for a wide-tooth comb to help him remove some of the knots from her hair. He makes sure to slowly and carefully untangle strands of her hair, occasionally using his deft fingers in place of the comb.

After smoothing down her hair, he uncaps the bottle and whispers to Marinette, “Close your eyes for me, love.”

 She does as she’s told, and Luka starts spraying the heat protectant all over her hair. It takes him a few seconds before Marinette hears him put the cap back on the bottle, and set it back onto the chair.

“You’re good now, sweets. I’m just going to plug the hair dryer, so keep an eye out on your cards.”

“Okay.”

She puts paperweights onto the stacks of cards, making sure that nothing is folded or crumpled in the process. For extra measure, she also pushes them off of her, and sits up straighter when she feels Luka return to his place behind her.

“I’m turning it on now.” He warns her, before he switches the device on and a strong blast of warm air blows past the side of her face. “Let me know if I’m hurting you, okay?” He tells her in a louder voice, adjusting the strength of the air from high to medium heat and speed.

“I will!”

Marinette feels the heat of the hair dryer blowing at her hair — the back, before travelling up to the crown of her head. She closes her eyes again, only this time, to prevent any stray baby hairs poking at her. She feels Luka’s fingers carefully combing through her hair, lifting some of the strands to let the heat reach her roots. His hands systematically move from one area to another, making sure to not miss a spot of wet hair. Once he sees her head full of dry hair, he turns off the hair dryer, and sets it aside. He unplugs it from the outlet, takes hold of a brush, and starts brushing her hair from the bottom to remove remaining tangles. He continues brushing from the top of her head, making sure to do it as gently as possible and not to hit her temple,.

“Tilt your head for me a little bit? Yes, like that. Okay… you still want me to tie your hair up?”

“Yes, please.”

“You have a hair tie with you?”

She shows him her right wrist that has a hair tie wrapped around it. He hooks his finger into it and takes it off of her wrist, only to wear it around his own. With his eyes back to her hair, he decides to go with something simple.

He starts by taking a small piece of her hair from her left side, brings it over, and adds it to the inside of her left side. He repeats this a few times, making sure to grab from the outside part of each section with his pointer finger, and keeping his hands above the braid to keep the hair in place. After he leaves enough length of unbraided hair, he secures it with the hair tie from Marinette.

“Hm… I think I need something else for the finishing touch.”

“What,” she chuckles, “like how I am with the wedding invitations?”

“Maybe,” he tilts his head from side to side, until an idea pops into head. “Stay right there.”

Marinette can only laugh more at Luka’s meticulousness, but continues to sit still and goes back to her own brainstorming. It takes Luka about a minute or so to come back, and when she turns around to ask him what he had in mind, something clicks into place when she sees the blue hair ribbon on his hand.

“I think I also have an idea, but I’d have to ask for your permission to let me borrow it.” She tells him, her eyes focused on the ribbon he’s holding.

“Oh?” he notices her line of sight, and it doesn’t take him long to realize what she means. “Oh. Yeah, for sure.”

He gives her a small smile and walks back to his place behind her, taking hold of her braided hair. He carefully puts the ribbon around the hair tie, tying it into a neat and tight bow without jostling his hard work. Meanwhile, Marinette reaches for the lavender silk ribbons from the left side of her desk, and cuts them down into a certain length — enough to keep the invitation cards secure and in place.

Finally done with his work, Luka clears all his materials away, before coming back and taking a seat beside her. He grabs his own pair of scissors and another roll of the silk ribbon, takes one of Marinette’s already cut pieces, and uses it as reference for cutting.

“How many are we cutting?”

“About 30 more. The wedding is a small one, so they only ordered 50.”

“Okay.”

They cut them in peace (hehe, pun), neither minding the sound of their blades cutting through silk.

Marinette starts humming an unknown song, and so does Luka. Luka starts swaying side by side, and so does Marinette.

When all fifty ribbons are cut, Marinette starts showing Luka how to tie each of them into a ribbon on each card. He is unsuccessful at first, his fingers clumsily maneuvering the silk every now and then. He tries not to let the frustration get to him, trying again and again. Marinette sees him struggling and takes hold of his hand, giving them a reassuring massage before kissing them for luck. He gives a hearty laugh and feels motivation coming back to him; he turns back to his pile of ribbons and starts doing them again, and succeeds. They silently tie their cards, one by one, before they simultaneously reach for their last one together.

“That was nice. Maybe I should start helping you with the cards more.”

“Is that you asking me to pay you as my assistant, then?”

“Are you hiring for part-time?”

“I dunno… I feel like I need you full-time.”

“For the job?”

“No.” She twists to her side and faces him, sitting much closer to the edge of her seat, and takes hold of both of his hands. “If you have the availability, I was wondering if you could stick around with me full-time?”

He mirrors her actions and entwines their fingers, the smile on his face threatening to break his cheeks.

“I think you already know the answer to that.”

[jamestrmtx]

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Three | sans. (Part 3 of 3 | His POV)

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

As if being blessed by Lady Luck herself, the owner of the establishment calls for Jerry to tend to unloading inventory, forcing him to end his glare on Sans and move his attention elsewhere. His internal conflict manifests itself through physical means, as he stays frozen in place to settle between keeping his job and minding his business with the monster. With another call from his boss, louder and firmer this time in comparison to the friendly reminder from earlier, he clenches his jaw and loosens it up with a scoff. "You're damn lucky the place's packed," he says, looking back towards Sans again. He takes a stray receipt from the counter, takes a pen, and scribbles something on it, handing it over to the monster when he's done. "Take this, and stay the hell away from my family."

"So like you're doing?" Sans counters, snickering.

"Screw off."

The man leaves him be with those last two words and another worker takes his place behind the register, looking fatigued from presumably having to deal with all the work at the back by herself. The expression on her face says it all: she overheard only some parts of the conversation, and was either curious to know more about it or misinterpreting the situation altogether, though she doesn't mention a word about it. Rather, she picks herself up and greets him with a smile. "Good afternoon, sir. For here, or to-go?"

That simple question settles a puzzle in Sans's mind; given he barely knew the human waiting for him at the table, he couldn't make any rash decisions, so he considers all the options through and through. He could make an easy escape from meeting with Jerry again simply by choosing to-go, yet he still wanted to talk with (Y/N) about the subject of Frisk and the Underground. Not only that, but ordering to-go without informing them about it wasn't something normal for how much they knew each other; rather, it would seem rude to decide without giving the human a chance to speak their thoughts on the subject. And if he invited them to eat their orders out elsewhere, it would look wrong; either like he really did mean his vaguely flirty texts, or that he didn't feel comfortable enough with them around.

"Sir?"

"To-go, please," he blurts out, it being the first thing on his mind.

The monster tells her both orders and is then asked to wait. He does so by walking off back to the table, where Frisk's parent still waits at, either completely oblivious of what went on at the register, or masking it based on their calm look and nonchalant sitting position. Their expression takes a turn when they meet with his irises, and they speak up when he's finally close enough for them to make their words hushed. "That was my ex-husband, wasn't it?" they ask, smile strained and brows furrowed. "Could we, uh… take our orders-"

"To-go?" he intervenes, chuckling.

Their smile loses some of its tension, and they let out a laugh. "How did you know?"

He sits with them at the chair across from theirs, nudging himself to an angle where he shields them from the ordering counter. "Between you saying he stopped visiting and that he didn't show up when Frisk went missing, I'd say you're not exactly head over heels for 'im anymore." 

"Far from it," they reply, sighing. "It's just plain ridiculous for him to be so worked up about this now. He had his time ages ago." They rock their fingers against the table's surface and frown, looking deep in thought. "What did he say, anyway? ...I tried not to look, but I still saw when he got all angry at you."

"It's related to what I want to talk to you about. Though I'm not sure how he got that info so fast."

Their eyes spark and widen, the hand on the table clenching the edge in expectancy. "So he already knows all about it?"

"Dunno if all, but it looks like he's already dug a lil' bit into my past."

A buzz from the human's phone brings a halt to the conversation. He looks to where the sound comes from before taking a look at their expression, clearly vexed by the name of the sender. Their hand trembles and he notices how they have to tighten their grip on the device to prevent its fall.

"Jerry?" he asks.

They nod. "Excuse me for a moment."

Sans nods back and observes as they stand up from their seat and walk off to a corner of the diner. The switch in the human's expression is almost immediate, changing from curiosity to shock the second they click on the message. The phone meets the floor and ends up making a noise far too loud for it to come out unscathed, results of a tiled floor and the device landing screen-first against it. Still, they don't seem to care over that particular matter and stare at the floor with those same, wide eyes, a look that's carried back to him. 

"You…" 

Their words come off in a hoarse whisper, and they have to scratch their throat to continue with, "Is this true? Y- You gave Frisk a death threat as a warning for… for what, exactly?" Their voice's louder now, surroundings seeming to blur into nothing given how little they care over being heard by those closer around. "They didn't hurt you, so why did you threaten to hurt them?" Their shocked expression changes to anger, a deep glare that refuses to falter even as they take a step closer, ignoring the phone laying on the floor. "And what did he mean when he said your job was to kill humans? What…. What did Asgore order you to do, and how come you're still allowed to run freely -- as you please? How much of this is true, and how much of this isn't?

They take a pause to pick up their phone, another buzz being heard from it. The screen's cracked from end to end, yet they don't seem to mind over that either and tear up when they read the latest message. "Is… Is that why Toriel had to leave out of the blue? Was she expecting something like this to happen to her, too?" The human's voice breaks, though they recover with another scratch of their throat. "Did she also hurt Frisk? How… How am I supposed to even be anywhere near you when you used to be a heartless man who followed ordered regardless of-"

"Please, ca-"

"Don't you dare tell me to calm down."

They huff, regaining some of their composure through it. "You have the next few minutes to explain why the hell your job as a sentry involved killing people regardless of their actions."

"(L/N), please liste-"

"Tell me."

They cross their arms and keep their glare on him. The phone continues to buzz, but they ignore it, all of their attention now being focused on Sans. An excruciatingly long beat of silence passes before he finally relents with a huff. They sit down, and he sits across from them, gaze facing theirs again. "What specifically do ya wanna know about?"

"What your job as a sentry implied. The rest can wait depending on what terms we're left with after this."

"Alright." He tries to smile in hopes of making their anger soften, though it's a vain attempt; a bad one, more specifically, taking into account how much angrier they get. "But could you promise ya won't freak out?"

"I'm afraid I can't. It all depends, really. Being told you used to throw death threats at innocent people doesn't exactly make me trust you any more than what I did a few seconds ago."

"But-"

"Order 44!"

He lets out a breath and proceeds to stand up. "Talk to you inna second? We can go to the food court and find a place there to eat."

"...Sure," they reply, a smile finally managing to return. "And thanks for helping me back there. I don't think I'd be able to tolerate Jerry coming up to me now of all times."

"Anytime," he says, winking. It's then that he realizes what he's done, an action made purely out of custom, though thankfully, they only show shock at having their thanks accepted rather than shrugged off.

Hopefully, his conversation with them wouldn't turn out as bad as he anticipated it to.

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

The time to confess over his own sins arrives when both the human and himself are finished eating. Only his drink's left resting on the table, theirs already long gone with how quick they downed it after the meal. Had their choice been alcohol, he would've imagined them tipsy, given they barely gave themselves much time to consume it or so much as enjoy its taste and temperature. (Y/N) begins by asking how much of what Jerry had texted was true and over what actions the skeleton took when meeting with Frisk at the Underground.

The first few questions are simple enough and pass as smooth as his choice of drink, up until they ask, "So what exactly are you guilty of? Frisk told me to be careful around you, but in a fun sort of sense. And… And not because of you being dangerous or ever causing them any harm."

He breathes in, feeling obliged to brace himself for what he's about to say.

"I'm… guilty of not helping them out as much as I should've," Sans says, setting his drink aside. He already feels a tightness in his chest, incrementing when he continues with, "And there was one point where I might've come off too strong… Where I quite frankly told them to watch their back around me, and that I'd be there to handle the situation if it ever got outta hand."

"What kind of situation?" (Y/N) asks, a change in tone already present.

"Hurting my kind." He sighs out a deep breath, letting himself find some sort of ease amongst the ache building up in his rib cage. It was too soon to be enemies with the human sitting across from him, and to be frank, he didn't even want to be on negative terms with them, either. He simply wanted to have another friend; another person he could look forward to spending his time with more often. "I... warned them about what would happen if they dared to do anything bad to other people, but in the least humane wording possible." He takes another sip from his drink, feeling his non-existent throat turn sore. "Frankly, and just like Jerry already told you: it's all true. I, well... I threatened Frisk with death, even though they hadn't harmed anyone during their journey down there."

"So it's all true? Even the part about your job being to basically hunt after humans, no matter what?" They stand up from their seat, hands slamming over the table on par with their shout. In contrast to the ire he anticipated from them, he sees the same shock from before in their eyes and an open mouth reveals their disbelief. "I… Y- You... You're not joking, aren't you?!"

Thankfully, they're both sitting at a table too far away for anyone around to take immediate notice of the human's reaction. That allows the monster to breathe out again and reply with, "It's the raw truth, cross my soul," he says, meeting with their eyes. "As a judge and main sentry for the Underground, I was meant to treat everyone equally, no matter their age, race, or any of that stuff. I judged based on actions; on the person's background and intentions. So when it was time for me to meet with a new person, I went all out, no matter the costs or repercussions of my actions, or the feelings I had about what I was about to do." Sans takes a long pause, needing some time to recollect himself. "To be brief, that was the job assigned to me, and one I was meant to fulfill no matter how that would affect my relationship with that new person I crossed paths with."

"Wh- Why?" they blurt, the anger he expected finally showing through. Still, they sit down, avoiding unwanted attention from other people. "Why did Asgore come up with that idea, a- and why did you go along with it? Why… Was there no other option? Or did neither of you two ever bother searching for one?" A wet gaze greets him when he makes eye contact with the human again, conflicting with their scowl and sharp, furrowed gaze. "Are all of you guys like this? H- How many of you are innocent, and how many of you hurt my child? Are Toriel and MK the only ones I can trust? Because if I'm going to follow along with what Frisk's told me so far, th- the only monsters that they've mentioned without any reluctance have been those two. They... They always freeze up every time I ask them about any other monster they made friends with." Their voice begins to shake and a few tears spill from their eyes. "I… I'm sorry if this seems like too much, b- But I need to know, Sans, I… I need to know who hurt them, and what I can do to protect them. I need to be strict, and I- I need to make up for those two months I wasn't able to be there for them."

Sans.

The human has been calling him 'mister Serif' for a good while now.

Out of all the possible ways and times they could've said his actual, first name, and it had to be during a moment of anger and confusion. He tries not to acknowledge just how bitter and dry his name had come out of their mouth and instead focuses on lending out a hand to them, both in a metaphorical and literal sense. He drags the chair a bit closer to them and hovers his body over the table standing between them, placing a hand on the human's shoulder and snapping them out of their spiral.

"(Y/N), please just... Just breathe, and calm down for a moment," he mutters, making them face his gaze, stern and sober. "This's why I wanna tell you everythin' bit by bit. There's a lot more to the story, and I know you wanna be a good parent for Frisk, so please, take a breath and hear me out. I won't ask you to forgive me, but for your time to listen to what I have to say, instead." He almost flinches when their hand touches the one he'd placed over their shoulder, though he combats that feeling by looking away for a quick moment to recollect his thoughts. "We have a whole history explaining why things worked at the Underground the way they did until recently," he continues. "And even though I know that doesn't mean all of our actions are justified, we still had our reasons, just as your kind -- your ancestors -- did for sealing us underground."

They let go of his hand, a subtle action that tells him it's time to let them go. He does just that and sits back down on his chair, taking another sip from the drink on his side of the table to combat the sour taste forming in his tongue. "I know I have absolutely no right in telling you to calm down anymore and that I shouldn't've even said it the first time. But I still want you to listen, so that you can help Frisk establish their new life with the other monsters at the Surface; with all the friends they made at the Underground, but also by knowing what some of those friends did and just who of us you can entrust their safety to." He offers his hand out to them, letting a smile ease out the grim aftertaste of his words. "So, whaddya say? Wanna hear me out? I promise to be honest with you, so long as you can promise to hear me and my kind out, and learn more 'bout our choices in the past."

"I…"

That's the only word he can hear from them as they stare at his hand, a wary glance being directed at it. "Could we hug it out again? I, well... still don't trust shaking your hand after what Frisk told me about you."

Though he hesitates for a second, he gives in with a grin and a nod. "Sure thing," he replies, chuckling. "C'mere, pal."

Sans stands up, and (Y/N) does the same. 

They lean down to his height and let their arms sneak around his back, pulling him in for a second hug in just one day; on his first day meeting the human in person and on his first week here at the Surface, to be more exact. That same gentleness from before reaches his soul, enveloping him with a strong sense of safety, serenity, and warmth, despite the circumstances of it all. It was of no doubt that the person hugging him cared greatly for Frisk's happiness, almost just as much as they did for Frisk's safety. That shows through how willing they were to listen to him, how quickly they regained composure, and how welcoming their hug is, almost as if they were offering him a second chance to hear him out -- and just by the feeling of that hug alone.

"Thanks for being patient with me," he mutters, still kept in the hug. "I promise I'll try to provide you with as much information as I can." He lets go and finally stares at them again. "That sounds good to ya? Or are ya bored of me already?"

Tension eases out as the human lets a laugh burst through. "Sounds good," they reply, smiling. "And don't worry. I… I'm not bored of you yet -- Far from it, actually."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

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

And that's it for this week!

I'm still trying to figure out a good publishing schedule, but updates will continue to be weekly on Saturdays as usual, with the exception of double updates. :-)

[rvmmm21]

. half that, at best .

summary : lying over text will get you far. seulgi considers herself quite the catfish connoisseur, in a sense, acting twice her size to swoon her date. unfortunately, that only works if you don’t live with four -- very determined people -- who’ll stop at nothing to pry the good and honest truth out of you.

small note : not an original idea, my role is messenger, nothing more. just here to fulfil my promise to drag the very... *perceptive*... reaadvelvet (whom you can all thank for this delicious torment) down with me. also wow, first time i’ve written about vibrators and they’re... hard to write for. also dirty talk y i k e s. hands up, who can tell i was running on 2 hours of sleep when i wrote this? i proofread later i sleep now.

[cocky(g!p)seulgi x wenrenejoyri]

tw : dubcon, degredation, humiliation.

...

Yerim cracks the door open and peers into her room. The air is so damp and heavy with perfume her nose crinkles and she has to practically swat at it to clear the soft lavender fog.

“Unnie, I asked Joohyun unnie and she said yes to pizza tonight,” she says, leaning into the doorway and speaking into the direction of the girl sitting on the bed hunched over her phone, texting furiously.

The younger girl speaks again, louder this time. “Yah! Unnie. Are you listening?”

Seulgi shoots up from the bright LED screen and casts her attention on her impatient housemate, who’s now standing before her, open-palmed and waiting. “… ngh, sorr – sorry, Yerimie, wha – huh?”

Yerim rolls her eyes. “Phone. Give it. I know you have coupons.”

“… mm, yeah… just…”

She’s so distracted, it’s annoying, Yerim thinks. Both her and her unnies are starving for some pizza goodness out there and all Seulgi can think about is getting her dick wet with her dumb little date tonight. With a final head shake, she looses the patience she’s never had, reaching down to snatch the device out of Seulgi’s grasp.

“No!” she yelps, a little too much desperation in her tone, “… Minji’s gonna be here soon, I –”

But Yerim’s already scrolling.

“Wow, can you stop texting your stupid tinder date for like one minute? I’m trying to – wait, what?” she pauses to properly read the screen again before throwing her head back in the loudest cackle the other girl has ever heard, “… I’m going to fuck you till you can’t walk anymore?!”

Seulgi knew she was going to be discovered the minute her phone left her hands. She hadn’t had time to close the app before an impatient Yerim had rudely swiped it out of her clutches. Still, it didn’t stop the crippling embarrassment eating away at her from the inside out when she heard all her steamy, filthy exchanges coming off the lips of their mischievous maknae. All lies, of course, but Minji didn’t have to know that. She had already come up with a list of excuses for why she wouldn’t be able to spend the night or why they’d always have to do it ‘next time’. But all that seems to be falling apart before her eyes, now that Yerim’s the one with the power.

“Yah!” she screams, jumping up from her bed and frantically trying to pilfer it from the girl who’s too wildly curious to let go. “Stop! Shut – no! Give – give it back, shush!”

Yerim’s folded over on the floor now, clutching at her sides with how apparently hilarious Seulgi’s sexting is. “Unnie – unnie!” she manages between fits of laughter, “how are you gonna do that when you can’t even… you can’t even last like twenty seconds!”

Before she knows it, the whole house has gathered into her room. Seulgi grits her teeth at how Yerim’s obnoxious cackling lured the other four in. They simply observe for the moment, poorly concealed enjoyment painted on their faces, seconds away from partaking in the ‘fun’ themselves.

Suddenly, they’re interested in something else… and it isn’t how much they can get off of their next pizza order.

“Another one, another one!” Sooyoung’s taken to egging Yerim on, who’s more than beside herself with glee. The youngest wipes a tear from the corner of her eye and gracefully proceeds, doing her best impression of what she assumes Seulgi sounds like all hot and bothered.

A red-faced Seulgi, wishing the ground would just swallow her whole, just buries her face between her knees, having long given up trying to get her phone back. Any attempt she’s made to preserve the shreds of dignity she’s clung onto since this whole episode started is about to be torn from her when Yerim opens her mouth.

“A-And… and I hope you’re ready, cause I can… oh my god, cause I can go for ten hours, baby!”

This triggers an entire wave of laughter, from everyone, this time. Not that it matters to the girl in question. Poor Seulgi can barely hear them over the sound of her own utter horror pulsing heavily in her ears. She can’t even fucking leave because Joohyun and Seungwan are barricading the entrance, arms crossed out in front of them like bodyguards. And they’re wearing those awful grins, too.

Seulgi has to wonder if they’d planned this all along… or if they’ve just been practicing their non-verbal cues during their spare time and conveniently leaving her out. Either way, it’s all she has time to think before they’re pouncing on her, all at once.

God, they’re fast. And she’s helpless.

With Sooyoung and Seungwan on either side of her pinning her under their full bodyweight, she’s left with little to no wriggle room and swiftly depleting sensation in both arms. She can already feel the sweat dripping. Joohyun humming a little tune to herself as she scans her bedroom doesn’t help either. She’s searching for an appropriate tool of ‘quality control’, as she so forebodingly put it.

Finally, in an open drawer, she spots the perfect solution, with its cord dangling out far too invitingly to overlook.

When she hears the flip of a switch and the horribly familiar whirr, Seulgi does her best to crane her neck up, struggling to see past the tangle of limbs draped across her and weighing her down. She knows what it is, and she isn’t keen. “… wh-what… unnie… why have you … what do you –”

“Ah, ah, ah,” Joohyun cuts her off before she has the chance to finish. “Big girls don’t need to know what’s coming at them to be able handle it, do they?”

“Ten hours, huh?” Yerim asks in an incredulous giggle from the corner of her room. “I mean, that’s super impressive, so we just wanna see for ourselves, you know? Right, Seungwan unnie?”

Just like that, Seulgi finds her fragile fate in Seungwan’s hands, and she doesn’t seem nearly as careful with it, almost like she wants to see it shatter. “Mhm,” the smaller girl concurs with a nod before turning down to face the crimson one of the girl below them. “What’s a more realistic time, d’ya think? Five? Five minutes?”

Sooyoung quickly interjects. “Five? Hah!” she scoffs, “I’m not even giving her two. Look at it.”

All eyes laser downwards to the tip of Sooyoung’s finger, where -- to everyone’s delight (and Seulgi’s repulsion) -- there’s a very obvious tent in her jeans. So obvious, in fact, that her arousal is perfectly highlighted through the thick denim that has moulded around it to create a very captivating shape. 

Seulgi opens her mouth like she has any hopes of defending herself, but the potential words break off into a breathy whine when the faint whirring she hears above her directly translates into sheer jolts of pleasure that rip through her body from her crotch. It’s incredibly difficult, but she squints down to see Joohyun holding a purple vibrator between her spread knees, intermittently running it up and down the growing length.

They all watch as it vibrates her to a full erection, helpless and hard and just begging to be taught a lesson.

“Here’s the deal, Seul,” she deadpans. “Since you’re sooo good in bed… since you’re apparently going to fuck Minji till she can’t walk anymore, I think it’s only fair that you prove it, don’t you?”

Oh… there aren’t words that can possibly describe the dread now coursing through Seulgi’s veins at that prospect, despite herself.

“So, yes, I think I agree with Sooyoung. Two minutes. If you last two minutes, we’ll forget this ever happened. And you’re going to last, aren’t you? You’re going to last.”

She hadn’t even noticed Joohyun hadn’t offered the consequences of her failure to hold out. She couldn’t. That was the least of her concerns, for now, anyway. The sensation of being vibed through her trousers was… deafening, to say the least.

You’re going to last, they said. Seulgi chants that in her brain like it’ll make her last longer, like it’ll help her succeed. But… but she’s not sure she can. No, she has to. No matter what, that’s not happening… she can’t – she’s not going to – cum in her trousers.

Oh but it’s getting harder and harder not to want to. Not when Joohyun hasn’t even given her cock a chance to get used to the tingly sensation, going in at the highest setting to begin with. It’s unbearable, even over her jeans… especially over her jeans.

“… uh – uh – nnie…” she’s panting out, screwing her eyes shut to prevent them from going glassy, “… p-please… please don’t… I… it’s… too – too high…”

Joohyun knows she’s referring to the setting, and of course, does anything but what Seulgi wants her to do, which is lower it… or stop. In fact, the younger swears she feels it stronger now, pressed unforgivingly flush against her straining boner, just enticing her to lose her load right into her underwear. Seungwan’s fingers skim over a flushed cheek, cruelly teasing as she wipes Seulgi’s tears with the pad of her thumb.

“But our little Seulgi likes it high, doesn’t she?” she smirks down at hips bucking up into thin air, desperate for some friction other than the intense sparks of electricity zipping through her from the vibrator. “Gosh, baby, you’re so hard you’re poking through your jeans… poor, poor Minji, hm? Don’t you feel sorry for her? I sure do! If she knows she’s been talking to nothing but thorough lack of self-control and a pair of cum-stained jeans this whole time… my, my, what would she think?”

Sooyoung adjusts her weight so she’s leaning to purr into Seulgi’s ear with barely contained amusement. “Should we tell her, unnie? It’s only fair to the customer… we’ve inspected the goods, and uh… they don’t seem to be in ‘working order’.”

There’s a whimper and then a slight shift. Joohyun picks this up.

“Gonna cum, Seul?” she asks, eyebrow raised.

“… hgnh – noo…” Seulgi shakes her head vigorously.

However, when the oldest sees chestnut locks gracelessly splayed across the bedsheet, erratic breathing and probably the teariest eyes in the history of teary eyes, she has to laugh. It’s not like she believed her sniffling Seulgi in the first place – not when she can literally feel her cock twitching under her palm, leaking precum by the gallon. Fingers tighten around the trapped boner, and Seulgi lets out a pathetic mewl. “Oh I think you are.”

“I – no – I’m… I’m – ah! No… nooo…”

“Aw, poor baby can’t control herself. Is your little cock all leaky?” Seungwan’s got an arm across her chest to shove her back down whenever she tries to push up, to keep her pinned as the threat of cumming in her jeans stalks closer and closer. “You still have 30 seconds.”

Goddamnit, 30 seconds? The fact she didn’t shoot the moment that godawful vibrator was in her line of sight was no less than a miracle… how the hell is she supposed to last 30 bloody seconds longer? The thought of soiled underwear and wet spots strikes a crawling heat in her cheeks, up her neck and down her arms. A heat that almost overtakes the one between her legs. Almost. It’s built up to an ache so pulsing, she just can’t ignore it. The room is spinning, and she feels dizzy and heated and it hurts… it hurts so good. The way Joohyun has the vibrator meticulously positioned so it teases the sensitive underside of her cock just right almost off-sets how ashamed she is that this is even happening at all.

“��� n-not – a – baby,” she stutters, each word punctuated by an involuntary thrust of her hips against that numbing sensation driving her mad. Every upward motion has the zipper line rubbing harshly over her shaft, the thin fabric of her underwear doing little to shield her from the rough stimulation.

“You’re nothing but a baby!” Sooyoung coos, scrunching her face at Seulgi, who can’t even see her clearly through that sheen over her pupils. “Big girls don’t cum in their little panties just from a vibrator.”

“Ten seconds left.”

It’s a voice, but Seulgi’s so dazed she can’t pinpoint whose.

“Poor Minji, she’s gonna be so upset when she finds out our little Seul still makes messes in her underwear!”

“Nine…”

“Seulgi-ah, why did you bother putting make-up on? It’s not like she’s gonna be looking at your face tonight.”

“Eight…”

Searing rivers of tears are streaming down reddened cheeks because of how mean everyone’s being to her. If it weren’t for the raging stiffness threatening to bust through the seam of her jeans, you’d almost think she wasn’t enjoying this.

“Seven…”

She’s practically giving herself whiplash from how much she’s jerking and twisting, trying anything to escape the stares of the four girls looming over her – watching and waiting for the inevitable with ear-to-ear grins.

“Six…”

Just as she thinks she’s actually going to make the full two minutes, Joohyun slides the vibrator up to settle on the head of her cock, so sensitive, so painfully overstimulated –

– that she can’t take anymore.

The teasing, the vibration, the humiliation… god, it’s too much and it’s making her – making her cum.

Her jaw goes slack and she arches up despite the combined weights of Sooyoung and Seungwan holding her down. She reaches her limit with a tiny, broken whimper as warm liquid spills into her underwear, seeping through and soaking the dense fabric of her jeans.

That’s going to be an orgasm to remember. The high is magnificent, if not a little excruciating, and it leaves her a dishevelled, breathless heap of nerves. Oh but… but her date! Oh no, she needs to regain her senses as quickly as she can and she needs to get cleaned up and she needs a new pair of jeans and –

“No, you don’t, Seul,” Joohyun interrupts her frantic thoughts. “Don’t even think of a fresh pair of jeans right now. You’re already running late. She’s gonna be here any minute now.”

She’s too weak to even protest when she feels two strong arms hoist her up and only wobbly knees. When it’s obvious she can’t walk on her own, they resort to physically escorting her out of her room… past the living room… and, oh gosh… right for the door.

She wants to beg, to plead with them not to do this, but she’s outnumbered, and she knows it’s pointless. This is happening whether she wants it to or not.

“It’s okay, little baby,” Seungwan winks, gesturing to the wetness on her jeans, obvious as ever. “At least that’s one thing you can be truthful about.”

She almost sobs when the door shuts in her face, and it only intensifies when she hears the childish giggling behind it. The evening air feels cool against the sweat on her back and absolutely frigid against that spot on her crotch. She barely has time to shiver and collect herself before she’s holding an arm over her eyes to shield them from the blinding pair of headlights that are now in front of her.

Oh god no. She hadn’t been through enough tonight? But this is what she gets for lying.

She has nowhere to go, and she can only pray that she’s doing a good job at hiding her embarrassment from the pretty girl now winding down the window with a cheery, “Hiya! Seulgi?”

[toothlessturtle21]

Tomato Soup

So I wrote this little thing that totally isn’t me projecting my issues with food onto a fictional character no way, so hopefully it’s not terrible because it’s not super proofread. TW: mentions of unspecified ED, hypoglycemia, noncon “repairs” done to Zane. Enjoy, I guess.

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

Zane loved to eat, until his father decided that the budget couldn't quite feed a family of two. ... Zane used to love to eat.

Zane's earliest memory of food being an issue to him was when he was barely even a year old. His father sat at the table, hunched over brass and copper coins, occasionally glancing at his son with a slightly worried expression. Zane was busy sorting their books, the task having kept him busy for the better part of the last two hours while his father said he had some "grown-up things" to worry about. Eventually, his father called out to him.

"Zane?" His father asked, voice strained. "What food do you have cataloged in our pantry?"

"Three cans of tomato soup, two sleeves of crackers, various spices, and one box of penne pasta. Speaking of which, I am getting rather peckish, I think I will go have some of the-"

Zane went to stand to go towards the cupboard to grab a sleeve crackers when his father stopped him.

"No!"

The android froze, recoiling a little in surprise as his father stood as well.

"Father, is everything alright?"

Julien smiled wearily, gently tugging on Zane's arm to move him back towards the workshop.

"Of course, Zane. Everything is just fine."

"Then why are we going back into the workshop? You only bring me back for repairs if something is wrong," Zane stated before a different train of thought hit him and he jerked away. "D- Did I do something wrong? I'm sorry if I was not efficient enough when I was organizing the books, I'll do better, I promise!"

"Stop fussing, you don't need to worry," His father consoled him, but Zane still dug his heels in enough to make his hesitation known. "You will be fine, I promise."

Zane was still stammering as he was pushed down onto the workbench and was powered off, world fading away as his mind still panicked.

...

Zane blinked, his eyes adjusting to the light. He shot up straight, the memories of what happened right before his repairs making him quickly check his vitals for information.

Energy: 78%

Hydraulic Fluid: 89%

Vision: 100%

Audio: 100%

Hunger: -

Zane blinked, and tried again to access his hunger. Nothing. He looked over at his father, who looked slightly guilty but overall relieved.

"Why can't I access my hunger level?" Zane tried to ask with a level voice, but it ended up coming out choked. Julien shook his head.

"Don't worry about it, Zane."

And so he didn't. If his father wasn't concerned, then why should he be?

He tried to eat a cracker afterwards just to test what he believed his father had done to him, and he held back tears as what used to be a salty treat felt like cardboard melting in his mouth. He closed the sleeve, and set it back on the counter, resuming his task of organizing the library, but this time the actions felt a little more hollow.

So he watched as his father ate his soup and crackers, and just had to sit there and pretend to smile as he remembered how he used to enjoy the flavors dancing upon his tongue.

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

Zane was relaxing on his own bunk in the Monastery reading a rather good book when Cole gently knocked at the door, Jay poking his head out from behind the taller's back. Sensei Wu had set out to find something or other, leaving the three behind to their own devices while he was gone.

"Uh, Zane? You doing ok?" Cole started, eyebrows furrowed in worry.

"Yes, why wouldn't I be?"

"Well, uh," Jay stuttered, and Zane merely blinked as his friend tried to figure out his words. "Cole and I were talking, and we both realized that we couldn't remember you actually ever eating in front of us. Or at all."

"We're not mad or anything!" Cole was quick to butt in before Zane could speak, hoping to prevent any misunderstandings. "We just want to make sure you're not starving yourself or anything, because that would be really bad."

Zane stared in confusion, wracking his brain for anything to respond with.

"Why would me not eating be bad?"

"You could die!" Jay sputtered, and Zane felt some sort of sick feeling start to brew in his gut. "Please, just tell us if something's wrong, you can trust us, right?"

"I do trust you," Zane answered, for that he knew for certain. Cole and Jay looked like they were about to cry, and Cole reached out to gently tug Zane off his bunk. He was sandwiched in a hug between the two, Jay clinging to his front while Cole mirrored him from the back.

"Please, just eat something," Jay pleaded quietly, and Zane was incredibly unsure of how to respond besides a simple nod and a gentle hand rubbing at his friend's back to soothe him. Cole buried his head in Zane's shoulder, which wasn't hard since he was slightly taller than the blonde.

"I would prefer not to..." Zane began, but trailed off as Cole squeezed him tighter.

"I don't know what's going through your head right now Zane, and I don't need to know, but we're here for you. You don't need to change for anyone, yeah? Besides, you need the energy to train anyway."

Zane nodded along despite not knowing that they were talking about, but he could infer that whatever it was was a very serious issue. So he held his friends as they dragged him to the kitchen for him to choke down a granola bar, which seemed to calm them down enough where they stopped clinging onto him, but not enough where they wanted to leave him alone.

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

When Zane and his brothers sat pouring over their jar of coins to pay their rent, Zane felt a gross feeling return to his stomach. They had resorted to buying sandwiches from a shop a few blocks over because they never had enough money at one time to buy enough groceries to support them, so single servings seemed to be the most viable option.

Since discovering his android origins, Zane had discovered how to turn his taste back on, and had also figured out that eating did give him an energy boost, but never his hunger. So he ate mostly as an extra, something that was nice, but not necessary. So it was no surprise that when it came time to order dinner, Zane shook his head denied needing anything.

The ninja took his word for it, and weeks went by with Zane only eating by stealing scraps from the restaurant he worked at to keep his energy up as much as he could, but even he could feel his performance slipping as his body was forced to run on low amounts of power. More of his blood was staying in his core to run his heart, leaving him pale and shaky, and his eyelids felt perpetually heavy, like they were being held down by weights that kept increasing by the day.

The issue reached its apex, however, during a quick training session he had managed to sneak in with Lloyd between shifts. They were sparring, the android of course not using all of his skills on the child, but he could tell something was off. Zane was stumbling, his footing unsure and his blocks were sloppy. Before he knew it, he was on the floor, and Lloyd was shaking his shoulders out of fear before running out of the room to call Jay, the android's vision fading around the edges.

He tried to sit up, but doing so made his head spin and his gut curdle with nausea, so he curled up into a ball to ease the ache, eyes squeezed shut before he blacked out in the middle of the training room floor.

...

When he opened his eyes once more, Jay was worriedly peering down at him.

"You awake?"

Zane nodded slowly, and he felt something being nudged at the corner of his lips.

"Eat this."

Zane tried to look over the best he could, and to his morbid amusement, it was another one of the granola bars that Jay loved to force upon him.

"You just passed out from the robot equivalent of low blood sugar, you gotta eat something buddy. I'll grab you some fruit juice or something in a bit. It helps humans, so it's worth a shot on you."

Zane slowly sat up and backed against the wall for support, and methodically chewed the snack with measured bites, Jay texting something to someone quickly before putting his phone away to sit across from the Ice Ninja.

Once Zane was done eating, Jay decided to strike up the conversation that the two knew was coming.

"Zane, you gotta eat. I know the first time Cole and I thought something was up it was just because you didn't need to eat, but your body isn't used to this. You're hurting yourself."

"Just let me adjust to it, and I'll be fine."

"No, I'm not letting you do that. You're eating with the rest of us and that's final. Kai's dropping off a carton of apple juice in a bit, and we're getting food tonight. You're going to rest, because I'm not letting you pass out while training again. What if you had done that on a mission?"

Zane had no answer, and nodded his head meekly as a sign that he understood. Jay stood, and held out his hand, Zane accepting the invitation to stand, also very grateful that Jay didn't mention how he stumbled upon landing on his feet.

"Y'need to trust your body more, you're getting too caught up in your own head," Jay said softly as he sat Zane down on the couch, sitting down next to him with a slight bounce. "You're not a burden by needing to eat, buddy."

The android sighed, and rested his head on Jay's shoulder, his eyes still burning and his mind quickly following suit.

"Alright, you can use me as a pillow," The Lightning Ninja smirked, and wrapped an arm around Zane's waist. "I'm waking you up when Kai gets here, but then you can go back to bed, ok?"

Zane nodded sleepily before fully relaxing into his friend, exhaustion taking ahold of him with an iron grip as he fell asleep, Jay keeping him warm all the while.

[frizz22]

Prompt: what if there was a time Sabrina died (maybe when she was quite young?) and the aunties had to use the Cain pit to resurrect her?

It’s been a hot minute... okay, lots and lots of minutes, but I’m back and working on my one shots! 😜 hope you enjoy! Read on ao3

It was Sabrina’s second Solstice; her first without her parents. Not that the girl was aware, the sweet thing too young to know the difference.

Still, she and Hilda made an effort to keep the traditions the little family started the year before; roasted chestnuts, Ambrose reading aloud from The Christmas Carol—which had been done at Diana’s insistence… not that Zelda minded after the ghosts appeared.

After those traditions were observed though, there wasn’t much else to do or that they wanted to do. Neither she nor Hilda were in the mood for a boisterous holiday when they were experiencing their grief anew.

Firsts were always hard.

Thankfully, Ambrose seemed to be enjoying himself. He’d practically run from the room after they’d given him a new chemistry set for the holiday. And based on the sounds emanating from the attic it seemed their nephew was experimenting with how to blend the mortal science with magic.

A particularly loud bang had them jumping, first because of the noise and second because somehow the resulting combination snuffed out all the lights.

Grumbling good naturedly, Zelda made for the fuse box—which would likely see more use in the near future—while Hilda waved a hand to light some of the candles around the kitchen.

“Ambrose, love,” Hilda called as she picked up a candle and moved towards the stairs to check on their nephew. Just as Zelda flipped the switches and restored the electricity, though, Hilda shouted. “Zelda!”

Alarmed by her sister’s tone, Zelda rushed back through the house and found Hilda in the parlor, pointing to the fireplace.

The Yule log was out.

“Quickly!” Zelda exclaimed, rounding the armchairs and beginning the enchantment; Hilda joining her seconds later to add her strength.

Once the fire was relit, Hilda worried her lower lip. “Do you think anything got through? It was only out a minute.”

Frowning, Zelda shook her head. “With how close spirits roam to this realm during Solstice, a minute might be all they needed. Go get Ambrose, no more experimenting tonight. I’ll get Sabrina and check the house for malevolent presences.”

Her girl tucked firmly on her hip and the crook of her arm, Zelda moved through the house, tool in hand, praying to Satan it wouldn’t stop spinning.

It did.

Zelda squeezed her eyes shut and carefully backed out of the nursery where the device indicated the spirits were. She shut the door softly behind her though she knew it wouldn’t make a difference to the non-corporeal beings now haunting their house.

Hurrying back down the stairs, Zelda found the rest of her family huddled around the Yule log, making sure it remained lit.

“Auntie, I am a so sorry,” Ambrose began, rubbing the back of his neck ruefully. “I have no idea how I managed to extinguish all light, but I certainly didn’t intend—"

She cupped his cheek and managed a weak smile. “I know, sweetheart, you wouldn’t have risked the spell of you’d known.” Ambrose exhaled in relief and covered her hand with his and pressed his cheek into her palm.

“Did, did you find anything?” Hilda murmured, coming up behind Ambrose and wrapping a protective arm around him.

With a grim nod, Zelda’s eyes lifted to the ceiling where they could hear the beginnings of the spirits moving around. “In the nursery. I don’t know what, yet, but we do have spirits.” She switched Sabrina to her other hip as the sounds above continued.

Brow furrowing, Ambrose inclined his head, listening hard. “Are, are they playing with Sabrina’s toys?” He asked, eyes drifting upwards once more.

At the suggestion, all three of them fell silent and waited. Sure enough, the bells attached to the mobile hanging above Sabrina’s crib tinkled and a musical tune from another toy broke the quiet.

Sighing slowly, Zelda turned to Hilda and her sister nodded. “The Yule lads.” They stated in tandem.

“Yule lads?” Ambrose repeated, tucking his hands under his arms. “Wait, they’re, they’re poltergeists are they not? A simple banishing spell should do the trick.”

Zelda shook her head. “Poltergeists of a sort,” she corrected, wincing as something crashed to the floor above them. “They listen to no one but their,” her mouth twisted, “their ‘mother’.”

A grimace pulling her features, Hilda turned towards the kitchen. “I’ll get the offering ready.” She muttered, clearly unhappy about giving up even some of the food she’d prepared.

Her nephew frowned. “Offering? Who do the Yule lads listen to?”

Surprised there was something Ambrose didn’t know, Zelda bounced slightly to keep Sabrina pacified. “Gryla, a powerful hedge witch who is centuries older than Hilda and me. She,” Zelda shook her head in disgust, clutched Sabrina closer and then went on to explain who Gryla was; her horrendous act of eating her child, the betrayal she felt when the other witch broke the pact. And how, for the past thousand years, Gryla attempted to replace her lost child by taking others; specifically, orphans or those who weren’t with their biological family.

Blanching, Ambrose covered his mouth. “She, she ate—"

“Yes.” Zelda cut in, not wanting to dwell on Gryla’s grisly history. “And she replaces that child by taking others and turning them into spirits. Spirits that only listen to her. Which is why,” she moved to the kitchen to see how Hilda was coming along, “we must summon Gryla. So, she can collect her Yule lads before they do too much damage.”

A series of loud clatters sounded from upstairs followed by another loud crash of what sounded like one of the dressers in their bedrooms being knocked over.

Setting out another plate of cookies, Hilda huffed. “And to appease her, for the audacity of summoning her, we make an offering.” She gestured to the large amount of food spread out on the table with a scowl.

Ambrose spread his hands out, at a loss and still processing this newest piece of witching history. “How can I help?” He finally managed.

Carefully placing Sabrina in her highchair, with an extra protection spell, Zelda cupped Ambrose’s chin. “You, my dear felon, can hide.”

Confused, and not listening, Ambrose grabbed a plate and carried to the table. “Why would I hide? I came help.”

She shared a quick look with Hilda and then blurted it out. “Gryla was abandoned by her husband and she doesn’t like men.” Though if her spouse ate their only child Zelda knew for a fact she’d have abandoned them as well—if not killed them. Of course, Gryla didn’t see it that way.

Poorly suppressing a smile, Hilda added on. “She does like eating them.”

Appalled, Ambrose swallowed hard. “Oh,” he murmured faintly, setting the plate in his hands down with deliberate ease. “I suppose the basement or my room would be sufficient?”

Unable to help herself, Zelda chuckled softly at his reaction. “Yes, either will do. Though the basement may be safer, the lads seem to still be wreaking havoc upstairs.” The sound of breaking glass confirmed her thinking. “Make sure to cast silencing spells on the room, so we can’t hear you, but you can hear us.”

“Of course, Auntie, I might just go prepare now, why wait until she’s almost here?” With a slightly grey tinge to his skin, Ambrose scurried off.

Turning back to Hilda, Zelda arched a brow. “Are we ready?”

With a begrudging nod, Hilda handed Sabrina part of a cookie to keep her occupied, and then joined her hand with Zelda’s to summon Gryla.

~~~~

The witch arrived with a howl of winter wind that made the windows shudder in their frames.

She curtly knocked on the door, a smug smile on her face when it swung open for her. “Have you found my Yule lads?” She remarked, arching a knowing brow as more bangs sounded from above when she entered.

“They’ve made themselves quite at home,” Zelda noted dryly, shutting the door behind the witch.

Stepping forward, Hilda swept her hand to encompass their offering. “We’ve laid out some lovely meat pies, cookies, pastries, roasted—"

Sharply holding up a hand, Gryla shifted her attention and Hilda petered off, unsure. “This child is not yours.” She breathed, eyeing Sabrina where she was happily munching on the cookie Hilda gave her.

Baffled, Zelda blinked. “Yes she is.”

A malicious smile spreading on her lips, Gryla crooked her head. “She’s not your blood. I smell it.”

The two of them moved instinctively to stand behind Sabrina, Hilda gripping the back of Sabrina’s seat before answering. “Not directly no, but she’s our niece. We are her guardians.”

Power suddenly built up around Gryla and the Yule lads abruptly appeared in the kitchen with them, knives whirling through the air forcing Zelda and Hilda to deflect them.

“Stop this!” Zelda bellowed, a blast of energy emanating from her and sending the knives flying to embed themselves in the walls. “Sabrina is our girl and you won’t touch her.”

If anything, this seemed to motivate Gryla further, a cackle escaped her as she joined the fight along with her Yule lads, eyes bright with cruel intent.

Magic thickly filled the air as she and Hilda fought ferociously to try and keep Gryla at bay; all while dodging whatever lethal missiles the Yule lads launched in their direction. A flicker of relief went through Zelda when she felt Hilda seal the basement door to prevent Ambrose from joining them; Hell knew what Gryla would do to him.

And though the strain she felt from the fight made it seem as though hours had passed; Zelda knew only minutes had gone by. Despite this, sweat dripped down Zelda’s brow as she held a shield spell in place against Gryla’s onslaught, gritting her teeth at the effort. Hilda breathed heavily behind her, the burden of fighting invisible and numerous spirits surrounding them also taking its toll.

As if sensing her growing fatigue, Gryla increased the intensity of her spell; the effect of which physically slid Zelda’s feet back several inches across the floor. Laughing, the witch dropped the spell and then launched another at Zelda’s shield, making her stagger back at the impact; her spell held, barely.

It was then Zelda realized Gryla was toying with them.

She was centuries older and far more powerful. The hedge witch was enjoying her game, the fight; but dueling with them wasn’t even a challenge for her. Their desperate effort was a lost cause.

Despite this horrible realization, despite the fact that it was futile, and Hilda likely had discovered this as well, they kept fighting.

What else could they do?

Give up? Let Gryla take Sabrina and then search the house to take what she pleased as payment for resisting her? Ultimately leading the witch to Ambrose, who she’d kill out of hand?

No.

Zelda knew neither she nor Hilda would ever let anything happen to the kids. Never. With one last frantic attempt, Zelda dropped her shield completely, concentrated her remaining energy into a lethal blow and flung it at Gryla.

The witch was thrown back over the kitchen counter with a sickening crunch and, for a moment, Zelda dared to hope. Until magic crackled in the air above where Gryla had disappeared and then shot across the room to take Zelda in the chest.

Eyes going wide in pain and panic, Zelda clutched at her chest and tried to breathe; without success.

“Zelds!” Hilda shouted, loosing a billowing cloud of fire into the air to deter the Yule lads before dropping next to her. “Easy, just let me...” Muttering a Latin phrase, Hilda countered the spell.

Air suddenly flooded Zelda’s lungs and she gasped, eyes watering. Before either of them could recover further, Gryla was looming from behind the counter and firing spells with such speed and force they couldn’t possibly block them all.

Crashes and small explosions filled the room, joining Sabrina’s shrieks which had been going since the fight began.

Then, suddenly.... The screeches fell silent.

Bruised and bloody, Zelda and Hilda whipped around to find Sabrina’s small form slumped to the side.

Not missing the lack of noise from Sabrina either, Gryla slowed her attack and then stopped altogether. She harrumphed when she saw the result of her reckless casting. “Well, either with me or dead, at least she’s not where she doesn’t belong. With you.” With an arched brow and a self-righteous smile, Gryla whistled and turned away, her lads following, scavenging the fallen food as they went.

A raw, primal roar ripped itself from Zelda’s throat and she staggered upright and after the witch. Snorting in amusement, Gryla gave her an assessing look and then teleported away; leaving Zelda to crash into the wall behind where Gryla had been standing.

Sobs wrenched themselves from her and wracked her body as Zelda slid to the floor, barely able to breathe.

Hilda painfully leveraged herself off the floor as well and carefully extracted Sabrina from the damaged highchair to cradle the inert little girl against her chest. Pale as a ghost and utterly silent in shock, Hilda turned to Zelda, mouth working uselessly.

Another howl emanated from Zelda as Ambrose barreled into the room; Hilda’s spell containing him having dissipated in her grief.

“Aunties! What—” He stumbled on the sight that greeted him in the kitchen; the room a crater of destruction and grief. When Hilda curled herself around Sabrina, a wounded wail warbling out of her at least, Ambrose strode forward; eyes focused and fierce.

When he snatched Sabrina from Hilda, Zelda almost hexed him. For being so callous, for…. It was then Zelda realized that her nephew was sprinting out to the garden.

The Cain Pit.

Gasping at the realization, Zelda lurched outside as well, ignoring the pain ricocheting through her; Hilda whimpering as she followed. Hell bless their nephew, their brilliant, beautiful, strong nephew.

By the time they caught up, Ambrose had already covered Sabrina in the shallowest layer of dirt possible and still have it count as buried. He likely dared not place her deeper, the girl certainly not old enough to dig her way out once she woke.

She and Hilda dropped onto their knees beside him; huddling together in the snow as they waited for their girl to return.

At some point Ambrose started to heal them, his hands stiff with the cold. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, casting a spell to start a small fire to keep them warm. “I’m sorry, I am so, so very sorry, Aunties, I—” falling silent, Ambrose continued to heal them. “I’m sorry.” He finished, so softly Zelda almost didn’t hear him the last time.

After yet another apology fell from his lips, Zelda turned to him and smiled tremulously. “Your quick thinking is going to save your cousin, sweetheart, don’t apologize. And if your Aunt Hilda or I had eventually gotten our shit together and thought to use the Pit, we’d have either bled out from our injuries or frozen to death without you.”

“It wasn’t quick thinking.”

Perplexed, Hilda hummed and tried to take Ambrose’s hand, but he backed away from them both. “Darling—"

“It wasn’t quick thinking,” he repeated wretchedly. “All I could do while I was stuck in the basement, listening to you fight for your lives against Gryla and her lads, was think of what I’d see when I finally got out.” Spearing his hands through his hair, Ambrose shook his head. “I figured the Pit would see some use, I just never considered that it would be Sab-, Sabrina we put inside. And,” his voice cracked, “it’s my fault they were here in the first place. My fault she was hurt. That you were hurt.”

They both exhaled in realization and converged on Ambrose, engulfing him in their embraces and murmuring reassurances; for it certainly wasn’t his fault.

Before Zelda could be sure their words had truly sunk in, though, a thin cry sounded from the Pit. “Sabrina!” She gasped, hurriedly brushing the soil off her girl and wrapping her in her arms. “My darling, my sweet girl.” Tears flowed down Zelda’s cheeks as she shifted to let Hilda and Ambrose check on Sabrina as well.

Touching Zelda’s arm, Hilda stood. “Come, let’s get the dear inside. She needs a warm bath and a bottle.”

Their normal bedtime routine took much longer than usual. Though Sabrina seemed almost entirely unaffected by the night’s events, she and Hilda couldn’t seem to put the girl down. When they finally did lay Sabrina down in her crib, neither of them moved from its side.

“I don’t understand,” Zelda murmured, breaking the silence at last as she reached down and fixed the blanket Sabrina partially kicked off. “Gryla’s abilities allow her to sense when a child is not with family which is why she feels empowered to claim them as her own. Sabrina is our blood niece, easily traceable to the Spellman line through Edward... what caused her to say such things? To attack?”

Hilda didn’t quite meet her eye, hands twitching on the crib railing. “Maybe she’s losing her touch in her old age. She’s nearly a thousand years old, after all.”

Scoffing, Zelda conjured chairs for the two of them; full well knowing neither of them would be willing to leave Sabrina’s side that night. “She must be, who else would be Sabrina’s parents? Her family?”

Making a noncommittal sound, Hilda sank into the chair next to Zelda and they started their vigil.

[backtobackbakubabe]

I’m Gonna Make This Place Your Home (Part 8)

Bakugo x Reader 

words: 3010

Runaway reader finds a home with Bakugo. But will trouble follow? 

*****************************************************************************************************

You almost couldn’t see yourself with the amount of tears that were streaming down your cheeks. You saw the look on his face when he realized what you had done. 

“NO! Y/n don’t do this!” 

He stumbled around with his hands out trying to find you. Desperately swinging his arms around but they found nothing as you were pulled into Puppeteer’s embrace. 

“Y/N! PLEASE! It doesn't have to be this way! Please give me my sight back! Please baby listen to me!” 

Puppeteer’s grip tightened, “Isn't that adorable... the mighty ground zero.. begging.” 

You wiped your tears and lifted your hand out as if to reach for him. You gave him his sight back, or at least you tried. But nothing was happening. “Bakugo I’m trying! But my quirk isn't working! I don't understand. Whats-”

Puppeteer snarled, “Oh come on now Y/n... You’re much smarter than that. I took the liberty of using your quirk for you. I thought I could trust you to do the right thing... apparently not!” He backhanded you across the face all while never letting go of your wrist.  

You cried out in pain and Bakugo’s face snapped in your direction. He couldn’t see you but he could hear you. He lunged for you but Puppeteer was quicker. He threw his leg up and kicked Bakugo in the stomach, winding him and sending him to his knees. 

You strained against Puppeteer’s hold, “Im so sorry Bakugo! I’m sorry! Please dont-”

Puppeteer cut you off, “I’m a man of my word. No harm will come to you and your friends... but the offer is void should you decide to look for us. I won't be so nice the next time we meet..” 

Bakugo growled with rage, “I don’t fucking care what you do to me! I will come after you and I will fucking kill you! YOU FUCKING SHIT STAIN!” 

Puppeteer struck Bakugo in the back of the head knocking him out cold as he dragged you out of the office. “Well good luck to you and your over sized ego.” 

You tripped over yourself several times as you attempted to keep up with the tall man dragging you through the halls. You could faintly hear as the party was disrupted by what you could assume was the rest of the team. People started to scream and chaos followed. True to his word none of Puppeteers men attempted to fight back. Instead they had all left well before the heros even arrived. Sure they ended up selling out some of their clientele, but a small price to pay to have you back. His reach was long, he would sort all of it out later. 

“Would you hurry up you silly girl! Dragging your feet won't help you.” He yanked hard causing you to almost run in order to keep up. He stormed up the stairs dragging you with him, you were sure you would be covered in bruises from his grip. When you finally got to the top he shoved you in the helicopter and shouted at the pilot to leave immediately. 

He put on a pair of fancy looking headphones and passed you a pair as well. “I see that my mistake before was treating you more like an animal, like a pet to do my bidding. Things could be different this time around... if you behave.” 

********************

Bakugo woke up to someone shaking him and yelling, “Hey man wake up! What happened? Where’s Y/n?”

His eyes snapped open, “Shit Y/n! On the roof! He said he had a helicopter on the roof!” He tried to stand up but his head began to spin. 

Kirishima gently pushed his back down, “Hey man you got a nasty looking head injury. I’ve already sent some people to the roof and they didn't find anything...” 

Bakugo squeezed his eyes shut to prevent any traitor tears from slipping out and making him look weak in front of the other heros. “Then she’s gone... he took her and they’re gone...” 

Kirishima sighed as he took a seat next to his distraught best friend, “Don’t worry man, we found them once and we’ll find them again. Y/n’s earrings have trackers in them. There’s still hope.” 

Bakugo didn’t say anything. He just covered his face with his hands and let out a huge sigh. Everyone was smart enough to leave him alone for a while. He got checked out by some medics, and they bandaged his head for him. They advised he go home and get some rest but obviously that wasn't happening. He started to wander the halls of the fortress like house. There were so many rooms.. and a lot of them had bars and locks, much like cells. A chill went down his spine. 

He turned a corner and stopped in his tracks... at the end of the hall was a girl. She was dirty and covered in a blanket. She was talking to a police officer and she... she looked like you. 

He tried to keep himself from sprinting towards her. He didn’t want to spook her. The closer he got the more of you he saw in her features. Sure this girl looked to be a little taller. Her hair was much lighter than yours. But there was something about her eyes, they looked just like yours.

He approached her and knelt down, “I’m sorry to interrupt but you just... you look like someone I know. Can I talk to you for a minute.” 

She nodded and stood up to take a walk with him. 

As soon as they were out of earshot she yanked Bakugo into a room and shut the door. Baffled Bakugo pulled his hand from her grip, “Hey! What the hell?”

The strange girl looked him in the eyes, “Listen I don’t have much time to explain. You recognized me because I look like Y/n. Which makes complete sense considering I’m her older sister.” She put a hand up to him to stop him from talking, “I know you have questions but please wait until I’m finished, we're on a time crunch after all.” 

He narrowed his eyes, “You have 5 minutes to explain what the fuck is going on and who you are.... we’re on a time crunch after all...” 

She smirked and when she was satisfied with his compliance she continued. “My name is Ora. I’m a few years older than her and there’s no way she would remember me. I started showing signs of my quirk young just like she did. And I was sold to Puppeteer just like she was. I’m sure you found out about our parents but what you dont know is our mom works for Puppeteer. Her quirk is emotional manipulation. He finds people's quirks that he likes and he sends her out to basically trick them into loving her, having their children and then delivering them to him. She’s a sick, twisted, bitch.” 

Her fists balled up and shook for a few seconds before she let go and continued, “Our dad was an honest man. His quirk was time travel. But he could only go up to 24 hours into the past at a time. He couldn’t move to the future, but he could always come back to the present. It took a lot of out him, so he only used it once a day. Every day he would read the paper, pick someone who died and go back and warn them. Well he ended up messing with Puppeteers affairs and it pissed him off.” 

The girl began to pace now as her rant continued, “Puppeteer wanted to kill him but he also wanted his quirk. You see he collects quirks. He can use anyone’s quirk as long as they are alive and he has touched them within the last hour. He controls people like puppets. Hence the name. So he sent my mom after him and when they had me... well I was lucky enough to inherit his quirk. By the time I started showing signs of it though Y/N had already been born but she would have been too young to remember. They came for me and my dad died trying to protect me.” 

Bakugo could see pain flash across her eyes. He reached out and put a hand on her shoulder. “I’m really sorry for all the shit you and Y/n have had to endure because of him. I would give anything to kill that fucker with my bare hands.”

Ora just sniffed, “I fucking hate puppeteer but he’s a smart fucker. Every time I try and take him down he’s always one step ahead. He’s been giving me quirk suppressing drugs for years. Keeping me here until he needs me. I can feel them wearing off now and as soon as they do... well I have this idea. It’s crazy and I need your help. I want to go back in time and save my dad. The only thing is.. I’ve never gone that far. Also I need to take you with me... and I've never done that before either...” 

Bakugo blinked a few times before he scoffed, “That’s not even a plan! That’s just wishful thinking! We need a real plan... Right now we’re tracking her coordinates through a tracking device we put in her earrings. We are going to find her and I’m going to blow Puppeteers stupid head off his his stupid body. THAT’s a plan.”

Ora crossed her arms over her chest, “That’s the dumbest plan I’ve ever heard. Your plan is more unrealistic than mine. You’ll never get close enough to him. He has so many quirks at his disposal. He uses his goons like chess pieces. He plays with them like a video game. He left me here. So either someone fucked up and forgot to snag me on their way out, or the cocky bastard dosen’t see me as a threat anymore. Either way by now he knows I’m free and he’ll expect me, as I assume he'll expect you. Anything we do has to be very carefully thought out.”

“And you think doing something you’ve never done before in your life is careful thinking? It’s a suicide mission!” 

“I think it’s worth a shot.... Look we can try it you way first if it’ll makes you feel better. I need time to recharge anyways. But I’m giving you 24 hours and then I’m doing it with or without you. I would rather you come. I think you're the only one strong and determined enough to take on Puppeteer. But if I have to do it myself I will.” 

***************************

Puppeteer in his hurry to get you out didn’t think to check you for any bugs, or tracking devices. Once you were in the helicopter you took off your earrings. One you hid between the seats of the helicopter and the other you swallowed. It hurt like a bitch but you weren't taking any chances. Now all you could do was wait. Puppeteer obviously was keeping you from using your quirk. Hopefully they wouldn't drug you so you could try and reach out to Bakugo later. You were worried though because they weren't even attempting to hide where they were going. It was like Puppeteer wanted you to know. Was he setting a trap? Did he want you to tell Bakugo so he would walk right into the lions den? 

Your thought were spiraling out of control and you could feel your breathing start to tighten as an anxiety attack was surely building.

“Relax dear Y/n.. I dont want to sedate you, but if you can't control yourself then I’ll have no choice. Like I said, I want this time to be different. But that’s only if I can trust you. It’s up to you how this plays out from here. You can live comfortably and go back to doing my bidding, or you can call out for help.” 

His smirk grew evil as his heavy glare landed on you, “I have no problem killing your little boyfriend. And your punishment won't be pleasant either. I just need you alive to use your quirk... I dont need you awake. I could turn you into a comatose vegetable of a human and keep you strapped to a bed. Ready for me to come use your quirk as I wish. So if I were you... I’d think long and hard about what you do next.” 

Your stomach dropped and you wanted to throw up. This man truly was evil.

***************************

Bakugo got Ora some clean clothes and brought her to meet the others. Kirishima was looking at a screen and rubbing his neck. “Hey man, so I got some good new and some bad news. Good news is the tracking devices are still working.... bad news is they aren't in the same location.” 

Bakugo narrowed his eyes, “What? What do you mean?”

Kirishima turned the screen towards him and pointed at the two blinking red dots. “Both the earrings had trackers in them. It looks like one of them is on the move, and moving pretty quickly. The other has been at the same coordinates for about half an hour.” 

Bakugo stared at the blinking dots. One of those dots was you. “So what do we do? How do we figure out which one’s her?”

Kirishima sighed, “It could honesty be either. There’s no way to know for sure. Either she’s the moving one and the other one was dropped and left behind. Or she's the stationary one and the other one is decoy. Our only option is to split up and check out both coordinates.”

“No...” Ora stepped up, “If you plan to take them on you need a united front. You cant afford to split up.” 

Kirishima looked back and forth between Ora and Bakugo, “Who’s your friend?” 

Bakugo rolled his eyes, “Long story, she’s Y/n’s sister and she's here to help. Ora this is Kirishima, he’s my partner.”

“And best friend, he always leaves that part out...”

Bakugo growled, “Now isn't the time for jokes shitty hair..”

Kirishima softened, “Right. Sorry. So do you think there’s any chance Y/N might be able to contact you tonight? It’d be the easiest way to narrow down with one of these dots is her.” 

Bakugo shrugged, “I wouldn’t say it’s likely, but she did say that last time she found a way to fight through the drugs to reach out to me. Maybe she could do it again.” 

Kirishima nodded, “Let’s hope so. I say we take the night to regroup and make a plan. You need to go to sleep and see if she reaches out. We’ll make our final decisions in the morning.” 

As soon as Kirishima walked away Ora nudged Bakugo, “You know this is a stupid plan right? We’re waisting time. There’s no way Puppeteer would let her give away their location.” 

Bakugo grunted, “Listen we just met like an hour ago and all you’ve done is annoy the shit out of me and question my intelligence. If you weren’t Y/n’s sister I would have told you to fuck off already. Now lets go get a hotel room and get some sleep. You may think it’s a long shot but I want to be ready in case your strong, more than capable, bad ass sister, finds a way to reach me.”

Ora’s eyes remained fixed on Bakugo’s like she was an adult talking to a stubborn child. “Whatever you say, but when I said 24 hours I meant 24 hours. You have until tomorrow afternoon. Let’s go.”  

They entered the hotel room and Ora immediately flopped on one of the beds and picked up the remote to the tv. Bakugo took a seat on the end of his own bead and cleared his thought, “Not to sound mean or anything but... how are you so normal?”

Ora put down the remote and gave him a weird look, “What do you mean how am I normal?” 

Bakugo blushed a little, “Well I mean you and Y/N went through the same thing but when she found me... well it was like she had been shut in a room her whole life. You just seem like, I don’t know... normal.”

Realization flashed in Ora’s eyes, “Oh... Well from what I understand when Y/n got out it was the first and only time she had ever escaped. I on the other hand escaped a lot. I would be out for months sometimes before they’d find me and drag me back. My escaping so much is probably what made it so hard for Y/n.” 

Bakugo nodded sadly, “Okay one more question and then I’ll leave you alone and go to bed.... When you saw me today.. you immediately knew who I was and already had a plan ,if that's even what you want to call it, that included me.... how?” 

Ora threw her head back on her pillow. “I've never told anyone this so this stays between us... I may not be able to time travel to the future... but sometimes in my dreams I can see it. Its hard to tell though because sometimes they come to pass and sometimes they were just dreams. They helped me escape several times when I was younger. The only thing about you is... Well I had a dream once years ago. I had no idea who you were then but there you were. We were back to the day my dad died and everything went to shit. I don’t know what happens, but I know its possible for us to get there. I tired finding you every time I got out. Once I did.. but you were at UA then and I was too scared to tell you. Time is a very sensitive thing. You cant meddle with it too much. Things need to happen as naturally as they can. So years later Y/N found you and now here we are. It’s fait.” 

Bakugo’s head was spinning. This girl had unloaded so much on him today. He didn’t think he could take anymore or he would explode. “Thank’s for being honest with me, and thank you for at least trying to do things my way. If the time comes and we need plan B. I won't fight you on it.” 

Ora sighed in relief, “Thank you Bakugo... honestly.” A tear slipped out the corner of her eye, “The thought of getting my dad back and having my life go back to normal... its all I’ve ever wanted. For Y/n as well...” 

Bakugo just nodded, too emotional to respond. He turned over and closed his eyes. Please Y/n... please be there waiting for me.

************************

You tossed and turned in you comfortable bed. You were exhausted but you were terrified to fall asleep. Puppeteer had been so nice to you so far. Giving you clean clothes, feeding you, you even had a nice room with a huge bed. All he asked for in return was your cooperation. Would it be so bad? If it meant Bakugo lived... 

You couldn't stay awake forever and as soon as you fell asleep you felt your dreams morph into something else. All the sudden there he was, Bakugo. He ran to you and wrapped he arms around you. You hadn't done this. You hadn't brought him here. That could only mean Puppeteer did this. Not only was he letting you reach out to Bakugo, he was forcing you to... He was testing you. 

“Y/n! Shit are you okay? Are you hurt? Where are you?” He held your face in between his hands and rubbed his thumb over your cheek. “We may not have much time so I need you to help me out here. Your earrings. They had trackers in them but they went in two different directions. One stopped and the other kept moving. Which one is you?!” 

You gulped. This is it. You had to make a decision. Tell him where you are and risk ruining everything... or lie and save his life. You leaned forward and planted a passionate kiss on his lips. “I’m the one that kept moving. Puppeteer found the first one and threw it from the helicopter. The second one I swallowed.” 

Bakugo kissed your forehead, “You’re a fucking genius! I’m going to find you I swear!” 

A tear slipped down your cheek, “I love you...”

Bakugo wiped away the tear quickly, “Hey dont say it like that. Like this is goodbye. I love you too Y/n and it’s because I love you that I won't rest until I get you back. I have help. I found your s-”

A loud clapping noise rang out in the dream. 

Bakugo looked around, “What’s that?”

You shook your head, “Sorry Bakugo. Somethings waking me up.”

You gripped you tighter, “No wait!”

You sat up straight in you bed to find Puppeteer sitting in the dark corner of your bedroom clapping. “Well my dear. It seems you passed my little test and gave him the wrong coordinates. It’s a shame though... you still betrayed my trust by swallowing that tracking device... 

****************************

Bakugo bolted upright breathing heavy and sweating. Ora rubbed her eyes as she turned on the bedside lamp. “What happened? Did you see her?” 

He nodded, “Yeah...” 

“Did you ask where she was?”

Again he nodded, looking angry this time, “Yeah.... and I think she lied to me.”

**************************

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[nomstellations]

Vivid Dreams

Heya! Just to preface, this isn’t a request for anyone, this is something I wrote for myself! I wanted to test out a concept I had with some ocs I love, and here’s the result of that! I hope you enjoy it!

Camping was a popular activity in the Galar region, and as she had never tried it before, Celeste decided to give it a try while she was there on vacation. The wild area was unlike anything she had seen before, being from Hoenn she was more used to linear routes and roads than a wide expanse of land between towns, and she enjoyed exploring wherever she could. The young psychic was all tired out now, and with the help of her loyal pokemon she found a nice spot to set up camp. Passively stoking the fire, she looked up and took note of what they were up to.

Sitting up against a thick tree was Atlas, her loyal Golurk. Despite his intimidating appearance, under that polished armor was a gentle giant dedicated to keeping her safe. His helmet was off, revealing his soft features as he dozed off. Ribo and Dexio, her Reuniclus and Beheeyem, were sitting a small ways away from the campfire and fighting over a plate of curry.

“Hey, quit bugging me! You had three plates already, this one’s for me!”

“Come ooooon, Dexy~” The green haired boy crooned, straining to reach his jellylike arm over to the plate. “You never eat much! I just don’t want to waste food~” Celeste chuckles at them, Ribo has always had a notoriously big appetite and this wasn’t the first time he’s done this. He was a bottomless pit and she wondered if he’d ever truly be full one day, but until that day came she kept him in check. Which was...not always that easy, she had a hard time saying no to his puppy eyes.

“Ribo, leave them alone! You’ve had more than enough for now, alright?” Upon hearing her voice he flinches, suddenly looking embarrassed at being caught and pulling his hat down. “M‘kay, sorry Cel…” “Thank you, Celeste.” They go back to eating as though they’ve never been bothered, leaving Ribo and Celeste to their own devices. She yawns, setting down the branch she was using to stoke the fire and standing.

“I’m going to rest before we head out again, don't get into any trouble Ribo! I'll treat you to something later!" His eyes sparkle at the prospect of more good food, and he nods eagerly to which Celeste smiles at. She walks off and crawls into the tent, leaving him alone and staring at the large tent.

This could be his chance.He's been planning this for a while, and with the others busy with their own things he had the perfect opportunity to pull this off, at least for a bit.

Quietly, he slinks into the tent, dismissing a question from Dexio with a comment about wanting to rest off lunch.When Celeste awakes, Ribo is sitting nearby with a cheery smile. "Heya, Lessie! I was wondering when you'd get up! I wanted to ask you a favor, see…" She sits up, giving him a curious look. "I'm not showing you where I hid our travel snacks." "Oh, no no! I wanted your help testing out a new move I learned!" "Uh, in here…? What is it?"

His smile spreads, growing almost troubling as his eyes start to grow a pale blue. The psychic pokemon says nothing as he stares at her, but for some reason he seems to be growing larger? No, she's shrinking! Celeste found herself shrinking down smaller and smaller, until it finally came to an end with her pokemon towering over her."It was Minimize! And it worked great, way better than I expected! You're so tiny, lookit you~" His translucent green hand reaches down, gently taking her into his soft grip and lifting her up to his face. His other hand comes up, gently turning her over as he hums in thought. "Hmm, could only get you down to this size….you're about as big as one of those dolls lil' girls love, but I think I could get you down still!" Having enough of being handled, Celeste wriggles around until she's situated in his hands. "Ribo, what's all this about?? Unshrink me right now, I'm not a toy! And what do you mean, 'get me down?'" Before she can say anything else, fingers pinch the back of her shirt and lift her up high above his head, his pearly white teeth on full display as he's beaming up at her. "You don't need to worry about getting me some goods for behaving, I think you'll do juuuuust fine~ Say hi to the curry for me!" His jaws open wide as a warm gust of air blows up to her, and Celeste starts to wriggle about in a panic. 

"Ribo!! Put me down, this isn't funny!"

"Put you down? Gladly! I've been wantin' this for ages…I'm glad you're as eager as me to try this!" Despite her best efforts to cling to his hand, the jello-like texture to it makes it hard for her to get a good grip on it as she's lowered close to his mouth. His tongue slides up to greet her legs as it licks all over them, slicking them up with saliva for the trip ahead. Ribo sighs happily, and judging by his closed eyes and blissful smile, he's enjoying her taste. She kicks her legs in an effort to prevent her from being lowered further, succeeding in kicking his nose a bit. He makes a surprised grunt, pulling her away and giving her a pout. "Geez, you're feisty! Relax, you're not gonna be hurt in my care. But if that's how you're playing it…" His movements are quicker this time as he lifts her up, giving her no chance to fend him off as she's pushed down into his maw. It's a tight fit because she's bigger than what he intended, but the reuniclus doesn't hesitate to start tasting her yet again. It takes seconds for her to be drenched in saliva, he's really enjoying her flavor from this amount. She almost didn't notice at first, but his tongue is sort of starting to lift up a bit...she can feel him tilting his head back, he can't really be doing this can he??

He absolutely can, and is as her feet are already touching the back of his throat. At this angle she's already starting to slip downwards, and a loud glurp does the job of pulling her into his throat. Not all of her is tucked away however, and a small gulp rings out that fully drags Celeste into the tight warmth of his throat. She can feel the slight pressure of a finger pressing against his throat as she slowly slides deeper, and the satisfied sigh of a very happy Ribo. The sound of his heartbeat comes and goes, beating fast from the excitement of his meal, and it’s not long before the rumbling of his stomach takes over as she slides into it. His stomach is relatively empty thanks to his high metabolism, and she plops down in a small pool of harmless slime. There’s not as much space inside as she thought, and it gurgles quietly as the walls close in to rub around her. Ribo sighs happily, looking down at the small bulge in his stomach and rubbing it. “Haaah~ That felt good! Can’t believe I’m sayin’ this, but you fill me pretty good! Take it easy and feel proud, that’s a feat~” He shifts, now laying back and relaxing. Celeste starts pushing around his stomach, trying to express her displeasure with the situation, but she quickly finds herself growing drowsy. Sliding up against the gently churning stomach walls, her vision fades as she dozes off….

Celeste jolts awake, sitting up in the tent and looking around. Ribo’s snoozing nearby with a sleepy smile on his face, and she’s at her normal size...was it a dream? It felt so vivid and realistic, and… it honestly felt nice.

She found herself staring at his stomach and she quickly looked away, thankful he was asleep. It was just a dream, nothing more would come of it...or so she thought.

[until-theend-oftheline]

Ignite

Pairing: Sam Wilson x Reader

Warnings: Explosion(s), Poor Sam   

Square Filled: Trapped in a burning building (marvel fandom) for @badthingshappenbingo and Clothes Sharing for @star-spangled-bingo

Word Count: 1500ish

A/N: This is written for @imhereforbucky cap2 writing challenge. I am so sorry I am late!

Betaed by: @blacktithe7 thank you, sweetie!

***My fics are not to be saved nor posted on any other sites without my express written permission.***

Being Captain America was hard work. It came with a cool costume sure, but Sam was more than aware of the shoes he had to fill. Steve was not only his best friend but also a man he had grown up admiring. He had never once thought he would be carrying the shield and mantel of Captain America himself. 

The title and legacy he was carrying on were stressful enough in of its own, but that wasn’t the only weight Sam had to carry. He was also in charge of turning the remaining Avengers into a team. A lot of people were lost; Tony, Nat, and Vision. Steve, even though he still had a hard time keeping completely away from the facility and probably still could beat down most of the regular soldiers with one hand tight behind his back, was retired. Strange had gone off to some other reality for God knows what reason. Thor had taken off with the Guardians. Bruce, even if capable of fighting, had grown tired of it and mainly remained in Tony’s old labs helping develop new tech as best as he could. Carol had other planets to protect. T'challa, Okoye, and Shuri had a country to lead, and Clint was focusing on his family and training a new girl on his own. 

Sam had been left in charge of the New York compound with Bucky as his second in command. Bucky was a soldier and a great asset to the team, but he wasn’t used to following orders, and on the best day as reckless as Steve had ever been. 

Scott Lang had fought for the Avengers before, but he was excitable. Honestly, his sizing up and down still freaked Sam out a bit. He was never sure when he was gonna nearly fly face-first in an all of a sudden 3 stories tall teammate.

Wanda was as impressive as always, and Sam was grateful for the number of training accidents her powers had been able to keep in check. Then there was you. Another enhanced. New to the team and the world of Avenging, truthfully also kinda new to your powers which were most often the cause of the training accidents, when it wasn’t Scott knocking over half the building sizing something back into its normal size ahead of time. 

You were fire. In more ways than one. You were energetic and eager to learn. You were a great asset to the team, and Sam wouldn’t want you anywhere else. He enjoyed your company more than he cared to admit to himself, especially with Bucky smirking at him every time Sam was training you or spending time alone with you in the company. 

“I’m just trying to help her feel at home,” Sam protested, only for Bucky to roll his eyes at him. 

“Whatever you say, man,” Bucky smirked, tapping the shield on Sam’s back lightly. “Just be careful that thing is not turning you into being as dense as Steve used to be.”

The quiet night sky all of a sudden light up in orange, and Sam was knocked out of his thoughts as the blast and heatwave from the explosion sent him sideways midair. He quickly regained his bearings and took off towards the warehouse where he knew his team had been training while he had been off surveilling a possible HYDRA base. His solo mission had turned out to be a bust but not as bad as his teams training exercise apparently had been.

“Barnes!” Sam called over his comms as he approached the burning building. 

“We’re alive!” Bucky’s voice scattered over the comms, and the Captain breathed a sigh of relief before cursing under his breath. 

“We’re trapped though. Wanda is keeping back the flames,” Bucky explained before continuing. “Y/N had a minor accident.”  

“Accident? You told me to do it,” you snapped back at Bucky in an instant, and Sam sighed heavily as he circled the burning building from above, trying to find a way in or out. 

“I didn’t tell you to blow up the armory! I told you to gently get the door open,”  Bucky grumbled, and Sam couldn’t help but smile as you hissed at his friend again. 

“Gently? When have you ever done anything gently or asked me too? You’re a bull in a China shop Buck!”

“Excuse me, but who set off the explosion, doll,” Bucky’s voice was more teasing than angry, but that didn’t prevent Wanda from releasing an exasperated sigh. 

“Sam!” Wanda’s voice sounded strained, “I can’t hold this forever. Do you have a plan?”

The sound of Wanda’s voice wiped the smile off of Sam’s face as he hadn’t yet found a way out of the building. The fire surrounded his team, and the only way was to push the fire out. 

“Wanda, can you push it out?” Sam asked, looking around the facility already knowing her answer. 

“Yes. But I don’t know where I am throwing it. I could burn the entire compound down,” Wanda warned him just as Sam spotted what he was looking for. 

“Don’t worry about that. Just pushed it out when I tell you, and Tic Tac?” Sam called over the comms.

“Yes. Wait, why am I always responding to you calling me that?” Scott groaned, making Sam smile a little again. 

“Get out here. I need your shrinking thing,” Sam ordered, paying no attention to the grumbles from Scott as he shrank down and headed out of the building towards Sam. 

“What’s the plan?” Scott asked as he returned to his normal size right next to Sam, who had just landed. Sam made a small jump in surprise, much to Scott’s amusement, causing the Captain to shoot him a glare before pointing towards the water truck. 

“Remember Germany? That one is actually water,” Sam explained and Scott grinned, instantly understanding. 

“On it,” he answered, sprinting across the tarmac, only to returned with the now toy seized truck and handing it to Sam. “How’s your arm, Cap?”

“You’re about to find out,” Sam answered before calling out to Wanda. “On the count of three, push the fire out the roof.” Sam grabbed the shrinking device from Scott who made a sound of protest but before he could say anything Sam had taken off hovering directly above the warehouse he started counting ignoring Scott yelling at him. 

“Sam! Have you lost your mind?! She’s gonna hit you!”

“3,” Sam dropped the device and within a millisecond he tossed the truck through it, “2” he spun around grabbing his guns, shooting the back end of the tuck just as it collided with the roof, making the water pour out over the building like a sprinkler system, “1. Wanda NOW!” Sam ordered, and without a second’s hesitation she obeyed his command, and the fire was completely swallowed by the water, leaving his three teammates looking like drowned mice below. 

“That was your only plan huh, Bird?” Bucky grumbled, pushing his hair back and out of his face as Sam landed next to him with a grin. 

“What? You’d prefer to have been roasted instead, Tinman?” Sam teased, and Wanda shook her head, taking off, airlifting you with her out of the building, leaving Sam to give the sulking super soldier a lift. 

“Are you all okay?” Sam asked looking around before his eyes landed on you. You instantly looked down to your feet, mumbling. 

“I didn’t think it would explode.”

“Hey, it’s okay. That’s why we train,” Sam assured you, pulling his jacket from the truck he had parked near the warehouse earlier in the day. He wrapped it around your shoulders and smiled when you looked up at him with a surprised look in your eyes. 

“It’s just a lesson in never doing as Bucky says again,” Sam sassed, and you felt your face heat up as Bucky pointed out the obvious.

“Whatever you say, Cap. Where are our dry clothes, or are they just for your girl?” Bucky grinned as Sam shot him a glare, and Wanda giggled as she began pushing Scott and Bucky backward towards the compound. 

“Let’s give them a minute. And we need to dry off too,” she ordered Bucky and tapped Scott over the hand as he reached for his belt, no doubt hoping to linger around to spy for a bit. 

Sam mouthed a thank you to Wanda before turning back to face you, now smiling softly up at him. 

“Why do we need a moment alone Sam?” you asked, and Sam’s smile widened as he looked to your lips and back into your eyes. 

“Cause I have been putting something off for way too long now,” he replied, leaning down slowly, giving you time to step back if this wasn’t what you wanted. You didn’t, instead, you wrapped your arms around Sam’s neck, standing on your toes helping him close the gap before your lips met in your first kiss of the rest of your lives. 

Please reblog; help me spread my work - Leave a comment. Feedback is fuel

Sam Wilson Tag Team

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[my-creative-hell]

Sleep deprived (Actor au)

Despite being absorbed in her work, Grave hears the knocking on the door of the lab behind her, breaking her concentration enough to be aware of the room around her, the world outside dark.

“Come in!” Grave calls out softly, not taking her eyes off of what she is doing as the door opens silently, Scarlet popping her head into the room.

“H-Hey! Are you okay in here?” She questions, hiding the brewing concern inside of her as she speaks to Grave, who hadn’t come out of her lab room all day.

“I’m good! Are you okay?” Grave returns the question, smiling as she turns to look at Scarlet, worry instinctively coming to mind as she questions her.

“Oh I’m fine, don’t worry about me! I was just worried about you, since you’ve been cooped up in here all day…” Scarlet explains, smiling softly as she opens the door more, coming inside.

“If you’re worried, you can stay in here with me… o-only if you want to though.” Grave offers, giggling softly as Scarlet enters, closing the door behind her.

“What you working on?” She questions, sitting down on the floor comfortably near Grave.

“Arm blasters and leg stuff!!!” Grave explains, glowing softly as she pokes Scarlet’s nose affectionately.

“How long you been in here?” Scarlet questions, smiling as she leans on her hand for support.

“Two hours…” Grave lies, looking away guiltily as Scarlet frowns, eyes boring a hole into her.

“I know that’s not true… feels like I haven’t seen you in ages.” Scarlet explains calmly, voice hushed.

“…Maybe it’s been a day…” Grave continues, hiding from view as she speaks, though Scarlet keeps her eyes trained on her.

“Just one?” Scarlet pushes, frown deepening on her features as she watches Grave keenly.

“And a half…” Hiding more, Grave keeps going as Scarlet sighs from the floor quietly.

“How long really?” She asks, wanting a solid answer from Grave, unable to remember herself how long she had been in the lab for.

“Three days… sorry.” Grave admits, curling into a ball as Scarlet smiles kindly, happy to have the answer.

“That’s okay but… you aren’t tired after spending so much time working?” Scarlet questions, curious about the answer.

“Not at all! I’ve done this a million times.” Grave explains, scoffing quietly as she answers her.

“Yeah… I guess so.” Scarlet agrees, laughing quietly, though it sounds strained and tired.

“What’s wrong, Scarlet?” Grave questions, frowning as she begins to glow, feeling slightly worried.

“Oh no, I’m fine, don’t worry!” Scarlet exclaims, jumping slightly at the sudden attention as she diverts her gaze away from Grave.

“A-Are you sure?” Grave questions, her frown deepening as she fiddles with her hands nervously, glowing brighter in concern.

“Of course! I’m doing fine.” Scarlet reassures her, nodding as she hides her face out of Grave’s view.

Sighing, Grave tries to smile as she opens her arms, inviting Scarlet in for a hug. Scarlet smiles at the offer, but it looks nervous as she debates getting up from her seat on the floor.

“I love you…” Encasing Scarlet in a gentle hug, Grave warms her up as she speaks softly, keeping quiet.

“I love you too.” Scarlet returns the sentiment as she leans into Grave, her voice sounding more drained than usual.

“Mmm babey.” Despite noticing the change in Scarlet’s voice, Grave avoids mentioning it as she kisses her gently, Scarlet silently attempting to keep herself awake as she is held gently.

“Do you want me to make you a thing?” Grave questions, releasing Scarlet from the hug a she glows softly.

“You can if you want to, I don’t mind.” Scarlet explains, humming quietly as she flashes Grave a gentle smile.

“You can’t look!” Grave warns her, smiling as she prepares some equipment, Scarlet nodding as she covers her eyes for her.

Beginning to work, Scarlet can hear the noises of power tools and Grave’s soft humming as she curls up into herself, attempting to use the noise to keep herself awake.

“I done!!!” Grave exclaims, finishing the device quickly as she signals for Scarlet to open her eyes, wiggling excitedly as Scarlet smiles at her.

Grave reveals what she’s made for her, a softly glowing heart with a gentle melody playing. Scarlet smiles at the heartfelt gift, though some nervousness grows inside her as the melody only serves to make her sleepier.

“Now you have a crown! …Kind of!” Grave exclaims, setting it on Scarlet’s head carefully despite her rising concern, avoiding asking Scarlet for fear of annoying her.

“How much longer do you think you’ll be working on stuff?” Scarlet questions softly, reaching to hold Grave’s hand as she smiles.

“I dunno! Do you need to do somethin?” Grave questions, kissing Scarlet’s hand gently as she moves to poke her nose in an affectionate manner.

“Nope! I was just being curious. I’ll uh, let you keep working.” Scarlet explains, blushing at the contact as she averts her eyes from Grave.

“A-Are you sure?” Grave questions, frowning slightly as concern crashes over her in a large wave.

“Yup! I’m just gonna… go and find something to do for a while.” Scarlet explains, nodding as she attempts to get up off of the floor, though it seems like a difficult task.

“Y-You’re not okay, are you?” Grave asks, feeling more concerned by the second as her frown depends, glowing as she worries.

“I’m fine, don’t worry about it, my legs just fell asleep is all.” Scarlet attempts to lie, her voice higher than normal.

“That’s not it…” Grave insists, curling into a ball shape as she prevents herself from pushing further, feeling worried.

“I’m fine, really. I just think I need a little help up.” Scarlet tries to reassure her, sighing softly.

“Okay…” Agreeing, Grave stands up, offering Scarlet her hand as she smiles gently, the hand being accepted gratefully by Scarlet.

“You need anything else?” Grave questions, gently pulling Scarlet to her feet as she taps against the floor. Shaking her head, Scarlet leans into

Grave as she stands, suddenly feeling fuzzy.

“You’re lying, aren’t you?” Frowning, Grave presses a gentle kiss to Scarlet’s forehead, her voice low and soft as Scarlet shakes her head in answer, though the unsteady swaying of her body tells another story.

“Yeah, you’re definitely lying.” Sighing, Grave carefully lifts Scarlet up, cradling her gently. “Y o u are goin to bed.” She continues, her tone serious.

“Cant…” Scarlet mumbles, hiding her face in Grave as she shakes her head more, feeling weak.

“Why no? You need to!” Grace responds, feeling concerned as Scarlet hides away from her view more.

“Just cant…” Scarlet explains, her voice getting quieter and more slurred as the fuzzy feeling in her brain grows.

“I’ll sleep with you if that makes it better, but you really really need to go to sleeb.” Grave encourages her, sighing softly.

“You aren’t tired… I can wait it out, I have been already.” Scarlet murmurs from her place in Grave’s chest, feeling groggy.

“You what?” Grave questions, feeling her face pull into a concerned frown as worry swirls inside of her, Scarlet whining in response.

“…I can’t sleep on my own, but you never sleep.” Scarlet admits, her voice getting quieter in the hopes Grave wouldn’t hear her.

“I… sorry.” Grave apologises, looking down to the floor as she thinks. “It doesn’t matter if I’m not tired, you’re way more important right now. You need to s l e e p.” She explains quietly.

“…I’m fine, don’t force yourself. I’m just being a baby.” Scarlet argues softly, looking up at Grave as a gentle frown graces her features.

“I-I don’t think you understand, we b o t h need sleep. I haven’t slept in three days and neither have you. If you don’t sleep I’m gonna… eat… your hair.” Grave threatens quietly, sighing as she looks down at Scarlet.

“Sorry…” Sighing, Scarlet clings onto Grave gently as the exhausted feeling grow inside of her.

“Sleep please… I’m really worried about you.” Grave encourages her, frowning as she kisses her gently.

“Can we get in bed?” Scarlet requests, hiding in Grave gently as she lowers her voice.

“Of course we can!” Smiling, Grave moves her to their room, gently placing her on the bed, lying down beside her.

Curling up under the covers, Scarlet reaches for Grave gently as she feels her sleepiness dragging on her, seeking comfort.

“I love you…” Grave mumbles, pulling Scarlet close as she litters her face with kisses of affection.

“I love you too…” Humming, Scarlet nuzzles into Grave gently to warm herself up, feeling safe and comfortable.

“You babey… my babey!” Grave exclaims quietly, starting to feel sleepy herself as she holds Scarlet.

“Mmmm…” Scarlet is quiet as she gets sleepier, Grave pressing a gentle kiss to her lips as they both fall asleep beside one another.

 The sky is still dark as Grave stirs in the bed, curling up comfortably as she taps her feet against the mattress softly. Scarlet lies beside her, huddled into her comfortably as Grave gently kisses her forehead, smiling affectionately.

Shifting in the bed, a small frown works its way onto Scarlet’s face as she hides in Grave, making her feel confused as she starts to stroke Scarlet’s hair gently, hoping to calm her down.

Leaning into the touch, Scarlet whines softly as Grave frown, feeling concerned as she continues to stroke her hair gently.

“Mmm…” Scarlet hums softly as she hides in Grave more, curling herself into a ball like shape, Grave wiggling her feet in slight worry for her.

Scarlet seems to stir from her sleep slightly, nuzzling herself gently into Grave as she beeps in response, feeling worried as Scarlet opens her eyes slowly, looking around herself.

“Hi…” Grave keeps her voice hushed as she speaks, trying to smile as she glows softly, Scarlet humming quietly as she wakes up further, hugging Grave gently.

Returning the hug, Grave litters Scarlet’s face in gentle kisses, making her scrunch her nose in response as she burrows into Grave.

Glowing softly, Grave cuddles Scarlet gently as she nuzzles into her, already feeling sleepiness wash over her once again as she warms up.

“You babey…” Grave murmurs quietly, wiggling as she strokes Scarlet’s hair gently, watching her smile.

“Yours…” She responds equally quiet, kissing Grave softly as she snuggles into her comfortably.

“That’s friggin c u t e.” Grave squeaks, curling into a ball as Scarlet whines from the lack of contact, curling into Grave as she giggles, holding her close and giving her a gentle kiss.

Smiling, Scarlet allows herself to drift off silently in Grave’s arms once again, feeling safe and cared for as Grave follows closely behind her.

[zap-writing]

The sun sets on another day - TRSNS fanfic

@redstone-sun‘s fic fucked me up so I did what I know and wrote about it to cope asdfghjhgf

the basic summary of this fic: Mumbo has a Bad Day(TM) and we stan Good Guy Iskall 

AO3 Link

On days like these, Mumbo felt his guilt like concrete weights tied tight around his throat.

The actual impulses and desires to obey that sanguine call no longer affected him as often as they used to―perhaps out of sheer necessity rather than true recovery, but the fine details didn’t matter. Not to Mumbo at least. The intrusive thoughts and feelings, however, were another story.

Sometimes he wished he could just press a button and fix all of his problems like one would a faulty machine, force him through some kind of psychological reboot. His prescribed process was tedious enough as it was; exposure therapy was a snail’s race by nature, and the transitions were mind-numbingly gradual. From mentions of redstone, to discussions of redstone, to looking at redstone, to touching redstone, to holding redstone, to――

And so on and so forth.

Days turned to weeks, weeks turned to months, and the process was anything but linear and orderly. For a long while it felt like every step he took forward, something would send him three steps and a stumble back. One moment he was setting up semi-complex circuits from memory in his obsidian home, the next Grian would make an off-hand comment about a test contraption one of the hermits built nearly killing him and Mumbo would find himself involuntarily wishing it had.

Those moments scared him. He knew that it wasn’t really him thinking then, that it was just some heinous, corrupted part of him, some deep innate brand of the Red Sun festering behind his eyes. But it wasn’t any less terrifying to catch himself tempted by the crimson voice in the back of his mind that told him he didn’t belong in the overworld, that he needed to continue wiring in the quartz covered plains or he’d never be satisfied, to beg and steal and lie and cheat if it meant getting back to the Sun’s dimension, that if anyone got in his way he had to kill kill kill kill kilL KILL KILL KILL KILL K―

. . .

Those nights, Mumbo felt pain beyond anything he’d known before, from the crescent welts of his fingernails dug deep into the meat of his forearms, to the once-foreign hopelessness that left him wondering why anyone thought he was worth saving anymore.

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

On days like these, Mumbo found himself convinced that he’d never be released from his blood-stained binds.

It hurt more than he cared to admit, having redstone so intrinsically ruined for him. Sure, he had brute-forced his way into standing it enough to look over blueprints with Iskall and play with it like a child when he was alone, but it was never the same. Nothing compared to the satisfaction of improving on an existing design, nor the pride and excitement of inventing something entirely new.

Inventions. Redstone was such a progressive material, a resource far beyond any of the hermits’ understanding. It was able to do just about anything if only someone could crack the code to get there. Most of them already knew of the wonders it could provide--plenty of the hermits used redstone-based bionics, or at the very least a form of enhancement.

Iskall was no stranger to them, obviously. Perhaps Mumbo shouldn’t have been surprised, then, when the man came to him amidst his wallowing with a stack of crudely arranged notes in hand. He was somehow more chipper and cheeky than usual if the bright smile on his face was anything to go by. There was a proud sort of flourish as he handed the papers to Mumbo, who sat with wariness and confusion. That apprehension, however, was quickly replaced with curiosity.

Blueprints and notes regarding the conception of redstone-powered contraptions and devices would typically be a quick read for Mumbo, but even having been friends with Iskall and Grian for quite some time, there was no way to scan through the chicken-scratch handwriting and less-than discernible doodles in a short amount of time.

Mumbo’s initial attempt at cracking the code that was Iskall’s notes was interrupted not ten seconds in when two loaves of bread, an apple, and a bottle of water was set down in front of him, making him flinch slightly. He stared at the selection for a moment, mouth suddenly dry, before nodding his thanks and reaching for the apple. It was in that instant that Mumbo realized he didn’t remember the last time he had something to eat and swallowed down his embarrassment.

The two men soon fell into silence as Mumbo worked through the notes bit by bit, often pausing to right papers that had somehow folded or flipped upside down in Iskall’s attempt to organize them. Though it took a while, a careful read through informed Mumbo of Iskall’s plans to research a possibility of mechanically repairing his vocal cords.

There was a prominent section on the usage of prismarine crystals and diamond powder to color match the box with his eye prosthetic, and another that explored the possibility of controllable pitch and volume settings.

(In a better scenario, Mumbo would have been terrified at the possibilities that would come with giving Iskall such power, and even now he wondered who the first prank victim would be.)

All of it was quite clearly in the early stages of development, but Mumbo could help but brighten up at the thought of Iskall being able to talk again. It wasn’t something he liked to think about for long or often, but he missed Iskall’s voice. Before the incident, his friend’s laughs and sly comments were one of the things that helped the days go by, and Mumbo knew he wasn’t the only one who thought so. The man deserved his voice and more for what he’d gone through.

But information on Iskall’s voice-box plans came to an unexpected stop halfway through the stack of notes. Suddenly Mumbo was reading through two different handwriting styles about mechanical joints and synthetic muscle fiber and artificial nerve endings and――

He stopped reading. This section contained far too many things he knew too little about.

Head spinning from unfamiliar jargon, he looked up at Iskall in question.

“F...f-for Gri..ian,” came the harsh rumble from Iskall, startling Mumbo in the process. Both of the men stared at each other for a moment, each sheepish in their own right, before Iskall pulled out a relatively new-looking book and began writing.

[Doc let me take a look at his arm a bit ago and helped me out with the technical stuff. I’m hoping that we can replicate a pair for Grian. Took much more work comin up with this blueprint than it did for my voicebox plan lol ]

Mumbo went from bemused to ecstatic as he read Iskall’s explanation, feeling surprisingly hopeful for the first time in a long time. The sheer thought of his friends getting back what he took from them made his heart swell with guilty joy.

The technician’s part of his brain fired off a million different inquiries about how they could get these plans to work, but his heart ached knowing this was a project he wouldn’t have much part in if any. He didn’t specialize in bionics for one, but even if he felt like dabbling in the expertise for the benefit of his friends, Mumbo didn’t want to get too involved out of fear of relapse.

Especially not after today. He just wasn’t ready.

“These plans are incredible, Iskall.” Mumbo whispered in awe, flipping through both sections of the packet thrice over. A part of him yearned to add notes and suggestions of his own along the margins of the already messy prints, but he swallowed down the eagerness and handed the papers back to Iskall with a shaky hand. Far too fast for him to subdue, bubbling apprehension rose into his chest again as a presence beneath his ribcage scolded him for not ripping the notes to shreds when he had the chance and Mumbo turned away from Iskall in shame. He didn’t even notice himself staring off into the corner of his room until the scratching of a feather pen against paper got his attention again.

[I was hoping you would say that. Wouldn't be Architech patent-worthy without your approval :) ]

Mumbo gave a half-hearted as smile his dear friend stored the notes away in a light blue shulker box he hadn’t seen get brought out. As Iskall packed the box up, a red hot silence burned within the room and Mumbo flushed at the uneasiness of it all, hating the fact that he couldn’t enjoy the company of the people he loved anymore. It made him feel like an ass when he was so unresponsive and caught up in self-pity, but at the same time it felt like acting as if nothing ever happened would be a slap in the face to everyone he wronged. He was halfway through a mental reprimand when Iskall huffed through his nose and came to sit beside him at his birch wood table.

A beat or two passed in silence before a steady hand reached out to fix the uneven part in Mumbo’s hair, smooth out the collar of his dress shirt, and pat him gently on the side of his face. The warmth of Iskall’s hand damn nearly drove Mumbo to tears. With cloudy eyes, he watched as Iskall tilted his head, expression a melancholy mix of fondness and sorrow.

[It’s bad today, huh?]

With a sharp intake of breath and clenched teeth, Mumbo glanced away from Iskall. He’d rather pretend he was fine than admit to the Red Sun’s influence holding strong sway over him today. But before he could come up with something to say, Iskall was already shoving his book back into Mumbo’s hands.

[Don’t try to lie to me, I can see it in your face. And in the stubble on your chin.]

“I…“ Mumbo started, cotton-mouthed and ashamed, closing his eyes to prevent the tears from glossing over his vision.

Sweet scarlet whispers pricked at the back of his head and swirled behind his eyelids, reminding him the Red Sun never sets the Red Sun never sets the Red Sun never sets, and he tensed his jaw to try and drown out the words with a high-pitched strain. The world around him grew warm and tight and dark, and despite his best efforts, the voices seemed to just get louder.

All at once, Mumbo realized that Iskall was pushing at his shoulders and letting out determined, wordless noises as he tried to bring the man from his panic. Mumbo brought down his hands from where he found them pressed firmly against his ears, noticing that his face felt warm and wet. He silently wiped at his cheeks with his sleeve, defeated.

“...Yeah. It is.”

“I-I...It’ss oh-k-kay.” Iskall offered gently, releasing his hold from his friend’s shoulders and sliding them down to his arms as he scanned Mumbo for any more signs of distress. As soon as his hands were free, he reached for his book again.

[It’s a nice day out today. Let’s go for a walk. I’ll shoot Grian a message to meet us in the shopping district.]

Before Mumbo could begin to read, Iskall plucked the book from his hand and began writing frantically, leaving Mumbo to wipe at the heavy tears that pooled over the edge of his eyelids once again.

[Let’s not tell him about my plans yet. I don’t want to get him excited for something that could take months or more to even start on. Promise to keep it a secret for now?]

Mumbo couldn’t help but flash him a warm smile. This man has done so much for both him and Grian even in wake of his own obstacles and responsibilities. There was nothing in this world or the next that Mumbo could offer as retribution.

“Sure thing. You have my word.”

Iskall huffed a laugh, grabbing and immediately shaking Mumbo’s hand with unnecessary earnest.

[Jolly good cheers mate! Let’s get you ready for our stroll, shall we lad? Pip pip!]

With a good-natured roll of his eyes, Mumbo stood from where he’d been sat since early that morning, bones audibly popping from inactivity, and made towards his room to change into a clean white button-up and dress pants, leaving his coat on the bed. It took him a moment to brave the mirror in the corner of his room, but once he could stand to look at his reflection, he made an honest attempt to make himself presentable. After smoothing out the folds and wrinkles in his shirt, Mumbo pulled at his mustache a few times in an attempt to style it, lamenting that he didn’t have the time to shave the shadow from his jaw.

There was a soft, gentle hum from Iskall that got Mumbo’s attention as he exited his room, and he walked closer to read what his friend was saying.

[Handsome.]

Bashful, Mumbo blushed and shut the book. Compliments always made him somewhat embarrassed before, but it hit him much harder nowadays, especially when he felt bad about not being able to clean up as much as he preferred. Despite his self-consciousness, Mumbo was grateful for Iskall’s encouragement and offered a small smile in thanks.

As he and Iskall locked up his house and began the journey towards the shopping district, Mumbo watched him message Grian and shake with silent laughter―probably at something stupid Grian responded with, knowing them, but he was too engrossed in thought to catch what was said―and noticed that for the first time in a while that he couldn’t hear the honeyed song of the Red Sun, nor could he feel its pull deep within his bones.

Truly, Iskall and Grian were gifts from the universe he didn’t deserve. It was a bloody wonder that they still stood by him after all they went through. Despite everything, his friends still cared for him. Still loved him. There was nothing he could do to repay them for that. And nothing could compare to the outpour of adoration he felt for them in return.

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

On days like these, with his best friends at his sides, Mumbo felt free.

[tarithenurse]

On my mind, in my soul - 8

Prompt: “I'm so Sorry” by Imagine Dragons, Avengers Tower, a bottle of whisky. All of it suggested by a lovely Anon, so I can’t credit directly. Used lyric passages are in block quotes, as usual. Pairing: Loki x Burglar!reader. Content: Angsting with angst, illness, drinking (though not excessively), pining, nightmare-like scenario, near death, more angst (because why not), worrying, probably swearing.  A/N: Wow....I’m getting much more writing done lately than expected! Feel free to comment and especially reblog! It’s always nice to know what people think. AND due to later shenanigans, I’ve had to reconsider the AU-ness of this, meaning that Ragnarok isn’t canon here (at least not yet). PS Proof reading? What’s that?

Fixing

Opening your eyes is a struggle in its own made no lesser by the glaring lights shining down on you. Light shouldn’t hurt but this does and it’s worse than during the worst hangover…and still it’s not what makes you want to return to the soothing of the darkness that’s already reaching out for you, silencing the distant roar of voices and shrill beeps.

…   Loki’s PoV   …

All around him, people are either working frantically to save this woman they don’t even know (just because he has asked them to) or yelling at him for an explanation. For once, Loki recognizes a fraction of their frustration although he brushes it aside it much the same way he clears the view from the wall he’s leaning against to the bed on the other side of the glass wall.

Green eyes flicker between the frowning faces and tightly pressed lips of the doctors and nurses. Although he knows they are doing all they can, their hands moving rapidly without missing a beat, Loki finds it near impossible to approve of their efforts. Midgardian medicine’s archaic, he sneers inwardly as he sends the cold into the wall behind him instead. Archaic or not, any disruption might ruin their effort all together.

“Lokiii!” Thor’s voice breaches the annoying buzz from anyone else. “What’s the meaning of this, brother?”

Heavy hands force the God of Mischief to look away from the prone figure, finding the electric crackle he knows so well from the older brother’s spats of anger. Having grown up together, Loki supposes it makes sense that the default assumption would be that he’s somehow at fault for whatever tragedy has befallen anyone – often that would have been the case.

“I tried to prevent it,” he answers coldly, once more attempting to clear the view only to find that Thor’s a lot harder to brush aside than the flimsy Midgardians. “Move, brother.”

The hesitation’s brief, spawned from confusion rather than anger, before Thor steps aside and Loki fails in retaining a relieved sigh when the woman’s in sight again. The convulsions have ceased, and it’s a relief to see that the breathing is less laboured even if it’s only because of the tube that’s been shoved down the trachea. Stabilized, that’s the term they’re using beyond the thin barrier, so why does this strange feeling keep gnawing at him? This sense of restlessness. Of guilt and…and worry?

People begin to leave the room, some wiping their foreheads and removing what looks like lab coats, others rushing to nearby rooms with the last samples of whatever has poisoned [Y/N].

“Loki…” Thor nudges the pale man, shifting the attention to a small doctor before them.

Doctor Cho fidgets with the hem of the light blue shirt she has been wearing under the surgical outfit. Not wanting to meet the demanding, green eyes, she looks to Thor instead. “We’ve managed to stop the poison from doing any more damage,” she announces slightly shrill despite the muted whisper, “but we still don’t know what it is and unti–“

“– until you do, there’s nothing that can be done,” Loki finishes the sentence.

About time for anyone telling you off for all your deeds No sign the roaring thunder stopped in cold to read No time Get mine and make no excuses waste of precious breath

… Reader’s PoV   …

You know it’s a dream because of how slowly you seem to be moving, but it doesn’t matter because as long as you’re not waking up, this is what you’ve got to deal with. It’s hard to find some sense to it all, though. Caught in an endless labyrinth created of distorted artefacts, you just know that you have to move forward.

Feet heavy, the ground soft and sticky beneath you as it actively tries to hold you back, making each step physically straining until your legs and lungs are burning from sheer exertion. Whenever you pause, sticky tendrils rise to grab hold and drag you further down.

Once, you fall, nearly swallowing a mouthful of the living floor while you struggle to break free and clamber on forward. Your hand automatically reaches for the emptiness around your neck only to remind you that whatever should be there is missing. That’s why you have to keep going. Have to find the cold.

…   Loki’s PoV   …

They’ve left him alone by the bedside, deeming is safe enough to let the God of Mischief that close (at least after Thor had given his word that it would be fine). Sitting in the room with dimmed lights, Loki ignores anything going on outside that space, his watchful eyes never leaving the shape resting under soft covers. Sometimes [Y/N]’s brows crease, urging the man to lean forward, elbows on knees and chin on clasped fists. Loki can go for much longer without sleep than a normal human can.

A son of a stepfather A son of a I'm so sorry

By the end of the next day, a day that has come and gone without any answers and as such without a cure, Tony Stark enters the infirmary to find Loki standing very close to the bed. Pale fingers laced with nearly lifeless, a thumb absentmindedly caressing refined knuckles.

“So…” Tony begins awkwardly, “thought it was time for that drink.”

Over the years, as the former aggressor has had to clear his name and redeem himself in the eyes of the Avengers and the governing organisations of Midgard, Loki has acquired an odd relationship to the inventor and philanthropist. It’s not quite a friendship, more of a mutual respect from recognizing more than the extravagant mess-maker the world sees.

Now, looking up from the still woman, he finds Tony with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses in his hand, and a crooked smile on the face that doesn’t quite reach the eyes. A nod is all it takes. Quietly lifting a chair over, the man settles down and pours two hefty measures. I’ll return to your side soon, Loki promises wordlessly.

The quiet smacking of lips sounds the approval of the drink and mixes with the faint whirr from medical instruments. A precursor to the words that have yet to be said.

“Who’s she?” There’s no judgement in Tony’s voice at least.

Yes, who is she? Few words would fully do the woman justice nor be capable of explaining who she is to Loki or in her own right. In truth, the only reason he’s had to still be involved in [Y/N]’s life is his guilt and his…my what? Love? No. Love’s reserved for those deserving.

“She’s…someone I’m indebted to.” Dark amber swirls in the glass once. Twice. Thrice. Then it’s drained, burning pleasantly in the throat. “No news on the poison?”

“Sorry.”

Stark has many ways of apologizing, each retaining it’s own level of sincerity or scathing sarcasm depending on the recipient or the occasion. This sorry is genuine although the man isn’t to blame. Afterall, he and those affiliated with him have done all they can to save [Y/N], and it’s not their fault the Midgardian knowledge isn’t enough to –

Sensing the stillness, Stark waves a hand in front of Loki’s face. “Hey…what’s up?”

“Soul Forge…” the god manages to breathe.

“Soul…that sounds ominous.”

Loki can feel hope returning to him, can feel the renewed power running through his body. “A Soul Forge is a…how can I phrase this simply enough for you to understand? It’s a medical device used for diagnosing and treating many illnesses and condition in Asgard. It could cure [Y/N] or at least help us get closer.”

A weak sputtering can be heard from Stark, but the Asgardian’s on his feet by the hospital bed. “Sorry to break it to you, Reindeer Games, but your old man’s made it clear that you’re to stay here.”

“I know. But…I must try.”

Life isn't always what you think it'd be Turn your head for one second and the tables turn

…   Reader’s PoV   …

Every path you take looks the same in a world where nothing moves the air and the shadows stretch unnaturally. Still, you know you’re getting closer, somehow, because the grabby ground is receding, chased away by slippery patches of ice that glitter darkly with the threat of sending you falling though into a cold nothingness should you slip and fall hard enough.

Logic screams at you to stop, that it’s just a dream and you don’t have to try so hard…but it’s not only in your head. Not completely. Reaching a new patch of ice, you slow down in an attempt to prevent the slippery surface from breaking beneath you. Out of reach, thin tendrils of living stickiness are reaching for you only recoiling slightly at the angry glare you shoot them.

Don’t you dare, you yell voicelessly at them, I’ll get there, just wait and see! And you power on, chest burning and heart threatening to give up before you reach your goal.

…   Loki’s PoV   …

The idea of leaving [Y/N] behind is nearly enough to break Loki’s resolve if it wasn’t for the fact that it’s for her that he’ll attempt to reconcile with his father. Stepfather. And if that’s not a hurdle monumental enough, Odin’s still known for his lack of interest in the Midgardians despite the realm being favoured by Thor.

“It’s time,” the older brother’s hand lies heavy on Loki’s shoulder.

They both know the risk Loki’s facing and although it may be for different reasons, they pray to the ancestors that the Trickster will be allowed to return from Asgard. One last look at the poison-marred face, a last caress across the knuckles, then Loki turns to leave.

And I know, I know that I did you wrong But will you trust me when I say that I'll Make it up to you somehow, somehow