#I should be home with Ma! not on the freaking MOON!

[vakenart]

The First Nightmare✨

[dearestm0th3r]

When the moon became an eye

Continued

I woke up at 6:57 PM, and I had fallen asleep on the couch. I looked out the window to see if it was still snowing, it had stopped. I yawned and got up checking my email to see if there was school tomorrow. I had a lot of text messages but that hadn’t worried me as seeing if I was even going to school the next day mattered more to me, I opened my email and it read

“Dear Families,

Due to the strange

actions occurring

in the past hours

we have canceled

school until further notice….”

Blah blah blah, as I expected there was no school tomorrow; I opened my messages just to see if Lily and Elise made it safely home. Skimming my messages, they had made it home just fine; Thank god. I cooked dinner for me and my mother as if nothing had occurred earlier that day, making some chicken noodle soup since it was freezing inside the house as well as outside with all the snow that had piled up over the churning hours of the eerie snow falling from the sky. After I had poured the soup into a bowl for my mother, I knocked on her door and I walked in with her dinner, “Hey ‘ma I know you’re probably freezing so I made us some soup..” I said smiling at her being awake. I grabbed her a bed tray to eat her food, “Thank you dearest, I’m sure it tastes delicious. Have you noticed how cold it has gotten?” She asked, I looked at her strangely because I had already mentioned that. She’s already experiencing alzheimers.. It made me sad to realize one day she might forget who I am; “Yes ‘ma, I wouldn’t worry about it though, I’ll bring you some extra blankets for tonight, let me take the trash out first.” I nodded to her and walked out to get things done, as I was walking out I closed the door behind me and went to take the trash out before I grabbed her blankets. I went into the kitchen to grab the trash bag and I threw it over my shoulder. I walked towards the door; I unlocked the door to go outside and walked out. It was pitch black outside, wasn’t it only 7 PM though..? It was way too early for it to be midnight black outside, I felt as if I stepped into a whole different dimension.. The streetlamps weren’t on? They trigger automatically on our street as soon as they sense it’s getting dark outside. I tried using my flashlight on my phone, but my phone didn’t turn on? I don’t remember turning it off, maybe it had died? I walked down the driveway shoeless, no light outside, dead silence. But, then I hear it.

SQUISH

Where did that sound come from? I looked around for what could have made that sound… I continued walking down the driveway, I made it to the end and put the bag in the trash.

SQUISH

Now I was freaking out. I looked around again, looking for any possible thing, even something on the driveway? Nothing.

SQUISH

I looked up.

Could I be dreaming? This is a joke of course!

SQUISH

Where the moon should have been; there was an eye. The size of a… of a what? IT WAS HUMONGOUS, that’s where the sound was coming from, everytime it blinked, it made that ‘squish’. I ran, I ran fast, this is just a dream. I ran back into my only safe haven, I ran into the house; I locked the door, I put furniture in front of the door. What is happening to the world.. I ran to my mother’s room because we needed to get out of here. I bursted into her room, she wasn’t in her bed. Her room had looked like nobody ever even laid in that bed, it was neatly made and nobody was in it. The soup I had made for her wasn’t even there, I looked around the room. I looked in the closet, nothing, under the bed, nothing, outside the window, nothing, on the bed, there were 2 bulges under the covers. I ripped off the covers in hopes of some clue on where my only hope had gone yet, I was deceived. All that was discovered under the covers was the most gut-wrenching thing and impossible thing I never would have thought I could have found, it was a pair of eyes. Her eyes, they look like they were ripped out. Her beautiful golden eyes, ripped out from her skull probably, all that was attached was the optic nerve; the bloodied strings that laid beyond her eyes. I ran out of the room, “This isn’t happening, this ISN’T happening..” I screamed loudly to myself. I was gonna be sick, I ran to the bathroom and threw up; this is all just a lie. Obviously none of this could have happened, it’s just a sick prank of course. I forced myself to stop throwing up, maybe I can just call someone… Wait, my phone is dead. This is sick, this is all so sick, it’s just a big prank; I’m gonna scream at everyone when this is over. Please just be over already.. Maybe I can walk around and find help… but what about that eye outside? It didn’t seem bothered that I was outside. Let me just be quick.. I ran out the back door since I had blocked the front, I ran around to the front door of a neighbors house.

KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK, KNOCK

Over and over I knocked, nobody answered.

I tried 5 more houses. But nobody had ever gotten the door? Where did everyone go? Is this why half of the people at school weren’t here today? Was Vanessa right all along? When is it my turn? Just take me already, I don’t want to live in a world without my mother. That EYE. It was staring at me, directly at me. It disturbed me, it didn’t blink, it did nothing but stare. Cold and eerie, is the only way I could describe it, that feeling of chills running down my spine happened. What is it? What happened to the moon? The eye continued staring at me, then..

BLINK, that squishy fleshy sound happened.

After that I blinked.

Something hot was running down my face.

Blood.

It ran down my face, burning; it was coming from my eyes. Is this what my life has come to? Is this really the end? Have my years on this earth meant nothing to god? Where is god? Is this what we truly believe in when he is not here to help us? There were still so many questions unanswered, I couldn’t control my body any more. I had found out what happened to the rest of the world, they had ended up becoming nothing; just how non-believers expect the end of a human life to be. Just more gruesome. I don’t know what happened to my body, all I know is that I was the next victim of the eye that floated over what people had called home for billions of years.

This was the end, we were the end of what could’ve been more.

END

3/3

[thetreefairy]

Okay, I have a very-very stupid joke, but I think, I'm going to die, if I don't tell it. This is going to be a very bad and dumb and unfunny joke, I'm sorry. In this joke, the reader is 18+ years old!

You dragged your demon king to a human holiday fair. You and your yandere dad walked around the fair until very late in the evening. You're both in female guises, because why not? Muzan is beautiful, when he is a woman. You walk, hold hands, sometimes hug. Dad even kiss you on the forehead and cheeks a couple of times. In general, you are having a good family evening. And then a couple of men come to you and dad, who make certain compliments and hints. How is it even possible, two such charming girls and all alone. It's just their manly duty, to make sure, that nothing bad happens to a treasure like both of you. Why don't you all go home to one of them? It's warm and safe there, and you, beauties, will have a lot of fun.

And there are two ways.

Muzan will kill them quickly but harshly on the spot. And then, the whole fair, because he was too nervous and angry. And then, the whole village is on fire and in agony. And you're being punished, because you're putting yourself in danger.

Or

You and your dad are freaking pranksters and you're going with these guys. And when everything is almost ready, when these men are ready to have fun, you and Muzan appear before them in all your demonic glory and cruelly, for a long time, having pleasure and fun, punish them. There's blood and pieces of flesh everywhere. You both decide, that these dregs are not worthy to be eaten by you. And you also rob their house, because you liked this painting, and that statuette is beautiful, you want one.

I apologize very much for that...

oh hunny, if you think Muzan would let you flirt with anyone at all, for whatever reason, your naïve. I will be using the she/her pronouns for reader and Muzan in this one, I also didn't do option 2 because I was like, should I make a slight smut section, but I have never written that-.

Holiday gone wrong

"Must we be here, darling?" Muzan asked Reader rather annoyed, she didn't like that so many could see the light, in other words her child reader. "Yes, come on! It's a fun daughter-mom time! But if you must, we can do some quality time with the upper moons~." Reader knew Muzan would immediatily change her mind.

She did. She fucking did.

Muzan was being dragged around by reader, going from food stand from food stand, and sometimes even the game stands. Of course, Muzan sometimes gave Reader a small forehead kiss, to make it obvious that your still a child-

Yeah, a group of punks didn't get the hint, Muzan was warned about them from an elderly lady, so when they approached her baby and herself, she was on guard. "What are you beautiful ladies doing around this town?" one questioned, winking at Reader.

"We are on holiday, aren't we ma?" Reader smiled at Muzan, Muzan smiled back. "Yes, we are, may I ask who you gentlemen are?"

"We can give you the time of your life, as long as you don't tell your husband." Another boy told Muzan, he obviously was fancing her disguise. "And I could show you the time of your life~!"

Yeah, Muzan went into rage mode. Within seconds she murdered the group of punks and in a fit of rage she torched down the village. Reader said: "We could have just turned down the offer."

"Don't think that you aren't off the hook, my child." Muzan hissed at Reader, while she dragged reader back to their home. "Excuse me? I didn't do anything!"

"You put yourself in danger, I suggest you shut your mouth unless you want to be isolated for a decade!"

Sorry for how short it is, and I am back from the dead

[extremelyblackandwhite]

innocence - 27

PAIRING: bodyguard!bucky barnes x innocent actress!reader

WARNINGS: none

A/N: my god i really took a whole month to write this. i am sooo sorry, but i was a bit stuck with the narrative. thankfully it’s moving forward. hope you enjoy xx

NEXT CHAPTER

Y/N watched him walk up to his bag to removal a navy blue square box. She furrowed her brows, leaning on her hands on the worn out duvet from her teen years as he sat by his side. His cheeks were dusted pink, lip stuck between his teeth as he handed it to her. Y/N merely looked at him like a child who knew nothing of the object that had been placed on top of her hands. All she knew was that it was in her hands and felt more expensive than the homemade present she had manage to hid under all her chunky Christmas outfits Bucky deemed unnecessary. He was nervous, heart pounding under the several layers of clothing he was wearing to protect himself from the cold. Rebecca had warned him to be careful, maybe to thread around lightly as she could be freaked out. His pace seemed to slow down as he walked up to the bed were she was so innocently and calmly looking at her. It’s gonna be fine, Barnes, man up, he told himself. 

     - You don’t have to accept it. I just ... I thought you might want it. 

     - Bucky, you’re rambling. - she cocked her head to the side, giving him a teasing smile as he sat by the bed. - The only reason someone should be so nervous is if they’re proposing. 

     -  Uhm ... - he rubbed the back of his neck as he set the box on the bed. All the colour drained from her face and she put her hands in front of her mouth.

     - Are you proposing? Gosh, did I ruin it? Oh my I ruined a proposal, again. 

     - Not quite. - he gave her a toothy grin. - And when did you ruin a proposal?

     - Long story. - she rested her chin against her hand.

     - Well, when my ‘ma died she left me and Rebecca a lot of stuff. - he opened up the old blue velvet box to show a small pearl necklace laying against the padded black satin fabric. - She left me this ... outta all things. Said I should give it to a nice girl someday but I’d never met a nice girl until I met you ...

    - Bucky. - her lips almost pouted as she tried not to get her emotions get the best of her. It was nothing special, it was really nothing special but to hear him, the man she was so hopelessly in love with, say she was a nice girl was making her heart beat faster.

    - You don’t have to wear it ... it’s probably too old and ... well I just wanted you to have them. My dad gave it to my mum before he got shipped off and I thought I’d give them to you ...

    - Wait, you’re not being shipped off, are you? - she wrapped her arms around his neck. - Because if you did good news first and bad news last, I’ll be very upset.

    - No, no, no. I’m not being shipped out ... I think I’m to old for that. - he chuckled. - The point is, he gave it to her as a labour of love and I want it to give it to you as a labour of love too. Except without the shipping off. 

    - Bucky, it’s beautiful. - she looked down at the box. - And it’s not too old.

    - It’s over a hundred years old.

    - You’re over a hundred years old. - she gave him a teasing look, kissing the corner of his mouth. - Maybe I fancy things over a hundred years old.

    - Yeah? - he smiled at her. - Do you wanna put it on?

    - Can you help me? - she handed him the pearls, turning around to face the mirror in front of her bed. Bucky draped the small pearl string around her neck, clasping it at the back before putting his hand on her shoulder, his head resting in the curvature between her neck and shoulder. Her finger traced the imperfect circular shapes of the pearls, soft smile on her lips. - Bucky, they’re beautiful. Thank you.

    - Thank god you like them. Sam’s been in my head all day sayin’ you’d think they’re too old. - he kissed her neck as she laughed. - Besides, I didn’t really know what to give you. I can’t really give you the moon.

    - The moon sounds like it’d take too much space in the house. Can you imagine? I live in a one bedroom flat, I barely have space for me and my thoughts.

    - Stop it. - he held her chin to turn her face so he could kiss her. - You know, missy ... you still owe me for that stunt you pulled in the airplane.

    - You know I would love to finish it ... - she threw her legs over his. - But I have to go with my mum tomorrow morning to pick out last minute gifts and she is an early bird.

   - Uhm ... you torture me. - he wrapped his arms around her. - But I’ll let it slide this time. 

Bucky couldn’t sleep that night, he stood up all night looking at her; the way the moon illuminated her skin against the dusty blue sheets, the pearls drapped over her beautiful skin. Bucky thought in that moment he was the luckiest man in the world and that maybe it was all worth it. Maybe falling from the train, becoming HYDRAs fist, Zemo, wars, everything ... maybe it was worth going through all of that because if he hadn’t gone through all of that, he wouldn’t be what he was today and he wouldn’t have met her. It was worth knowing it, it was worth having her. He remembered his mum reprimanding him every time he’d break up or start seeing yet another girl “James Barnes, you gotta stop playin’ around and find yourself a nice girl who you love and loves you back for who you are”. He didn’t believe her, he knew why girls were into him, or into the uniform so he didn’t really believe someone would want to stick around with him being a soldier. But Y/N, Y/N loved him with that and even all his nightmares and trauma. He couldn’t help but want to keep her safe despite that being what his job entailed, and it made his blood boil whenever he thought back to how someone had broken into her place, into her safe space. It made him more upset he hadn’t figured out who done it. Not even Steve or Natasha found any clues, it was almost as if it never happened but he had pictures, he had pictures of that word written across the mirror.

He could not stop thinking about it, he couldn’t sleep about it. He hadn’t been able to sleep in a while, afraid something would happen to her while he was asleep. He had failed to protect her, someone had gotten into her home and god... something could have happened and he wasn’t there, he wasn’t there to defend her. He couldn’t even do his job right. He couldn’t protect his girlfriend.  

Bucky stood up all night until the early morning when the clock shone 7:30 AM. She moved around, signalling she was more awake than asleep. He smiled, kissing her forehead as she opened her eyes.

   - Morning, princess. 

   - Buck, you need to sleep. - she said in her cute sleep filled voice. - It’s too early for you.

   - I don’t need sleep. Super soldier, remember, doll?

   - That can’t be right. - she rose up from the bed, rubbing the sleep off her eyes. - You sure you’re okay being alone? I could ask my mum ...

   - Go have time with your mum, princess. I’ll be fine, promise you.

   - Do not let my sisters give you any trouble. Or my brother ... or any of my sister’s husbands. You know what? You’re allowed to cuss them out if they do.

   - I’m sure it’ll be fine. - he watched as she got dressed and covered into layers upon layers. He had forgotten how cold England was. - You don’t have to worry.

   - Yes I have. They’re very persuasive, they’re lawyers. They will convince you to do things you don’t even want to do with you noticing. 

   - I’ve been through mind control before, I’m sure I can handle it, doll face.

   - Doll face? - she smirked. - That’s a new one. You sure you’re not trying to butter me up so I finish what I started.

   - Nonsense. - he got up from her, slowly walking up to her, hands resting upon her waist as he whispered against her ear. - It’s not like you need any buttering up isn’t it, princess?

   - I ... - her face grew warm at the thoughts that filled her head.

   - Y/N! Honey, are you ready? - her mother’s knock on the door, followed by her opening it just the slightest bit interrupted her sex filled thoughts. - We don’t wanna catch a confusion.

   - Yeah, mum. Just saying bye to Bucky.

   - Oh, Bucky ... there’s breakfast downstairs if you want. The boys are all up, maybe you can socialise.

   - Mum ... - Y/N said through a tight smile as the three walked from the bedroom into the hall. 

   - You worry too much. - her mother ushered down the stairs to the door where her father was leaned against, waiting. Y/N kissed Bucky goodbye before being pushed out of the house.

Bucky couldn’t say he was particularly comfortable. It wasn’t that her family wasn’t nice, they were as inviting as one could be but he barely knew them and the last thing he wanted was to scare them off or leave a bad impression. After all, there wasn’t a lot of his family Y/N had to impress and whatever was left of it she had left a great impression but her family, well, her family probably did not expect a 100 year old soldier bodyguard dating their actress daughter. Yet again, who does?

He walked into the dinning room where most of her family was sat down happily eating breakfast until they became aware of his presence. Bucky rubbed the back of his neck, ready to mumble an apology before Aunt Petunia was grabbing him and seating him down on one of the free seats. 

   - So, Bucky, what do you want to eat?

   -  Uhm ... just black coffee is fine. -  he spoke and as fast as he did, a cup of coffee was in front off him.

    - Don’t you want anything to eat? Oh, is this a super soldier situation where you cannot eat? Is it because you’re a 100? Honey, do you need any medication?

    - No, no, m’am. I’m just not a breakfast person. 

    - Uhm, I see. Did you sleep well? I couldn’t sleep all night with Sophie ... - Petunia looked at Claire who rolled her eyes at her. - Crying all night.

    - I’m sorry that we can’t control when a baby cries, Aunt Petunia. - Claire replied before returning to feed some crushed banana to her baby. 

    - Babies. - the old woman rolled her eyes, before redirecting her attention towards Bucky. - Do you want them?

    - Pardon?

    - A baby. You want a baby right? Y/N has always wanted babies ... of course she keeps forgetting she won’t be fertile forever. 

     - Uhm ... I don’t know, Y/N and I haven’t really discussed having a kid. 

     - I don’t wanna know about that. I wanna know if you want a baby.

     - I don’t know if I can have a baby. - he sighed, looking at any of Y/N’s siblings for help.

     - What do you mean you don’t know?

     - Bucky. - Claire interrupted her aunt. - Do you mind getting the mail? We haven’t checked our post box since we arrived and it’s probably pilling up. 

     - Yeah. - he got up from his chair before he could be asked any more questions.

Could he have a baby? He didn’t know; Steve couldn’t and Steve hadn’t. gone through all the brainwashing and shock therapy he had gone through. Besides, he refused to know and he didn’t really care about it. Why would Bucky Barnes, an ex murderer for HYDRA, want to bring a kid into this world? No, the world was better off this way and he did not want to know the answer anyway despite the idea of a family haunting his fantasies. Thankfully Claire had saved him and for that alone, he was almost certain she was his favourite sibling out of all. Checking the post wasn’t too hard and surely no one would ask about his family planning on the way to the post box.

He let the door behind him as he passed through the snowy ground until the postbox which, despite most of Claires belief, was quite empty except for a few postcards, bills and a particular letter that caught his attention. He looked around before putting the rest of the mail under his arm and started to inspect the letter. It had no stamp, no sender, not even an address, just Y/N’s name in the front written in cursive. Bucky knew he shouldn’t open her mail but he just didn’t trust it and as he ripped through the envelope, his suspicious heightened.

You cannot hide, whore. 

taglist: @disasterbii @lookiamtrying @buckysteveloki-me @americasass81 @jamesbarnesappreciationclub @lostinthebeans @mariahthelioness29 @bbabysbaby @peaches-roses-sins @theadorasabditory @sipsteacasually @saiyanprincessswanie @booktease21 @noiralei @learisa @everythingisoverratedbutgreat @uglipotata72829 @naturalthrone22 @husherstan @mandiiblanche​ @vicmc624 @newyorkgoddess @itsallyscorner @chipilerendi @emzd34 @writerwrites​ @bluevxnus​ @that-girl-named-alex​ @captnrogers​ @nsfwsebbie​ @sarge-barnes-sir​

[dameronology]

northern downpour (poe x reader)

summary: poe asks you an important question. it doesn’t matter that it’s 4am, or that it’s raining, or that yavin-4 is freezing cold. 

warnings: swearing, mentions of shara’s death

for a little bit of background, there was a force tree from the jedi temple that shara bey & luke skywalker recovered; it was planted at the dameron ranch and poe grew up around it. it’s probably one of my fave things from star wars canon. 

enjoy,

- jazz

Poe never got up in the night. You knew that much. 

Once he was out, he was out - especially since the war was over. Sleep was a liberty that had become a luxury. The galaxy was loud back then, you see. There was so much going on that neither of you wanted to nap out of fear for something happening. The ol’ saying of I’ll sleep when I’m dead had a little too much meaning. But now? Now that the sounds of TIE fighters in the distance and blaring alarms had finally faded? Poe wasn’t waking up for anyone. The entire war could have restarted around him and he’d probably tell it to fuck off. 

That’s how you knew that something was up. You never woke up to an empty bed - partially because your boyfriend was near enough comatose at night and partially because Poe would never go anywhere without telling you. He would have left a note, or a sign, or something. After everything that had happened, he wouldn’t have strayed more than six feet from you without a goodbye. It was his way of keeping you close, you figured. There had been days at the Resistance where coming back to another wasn’t always a guarantee. That fear was still evident, even if the circumstances were gone. You could feel it in the way he held you at night: tightly, as though you were the only thing tethering him to reality, as though he might slip away into his nightmares otherwise. When he’d lost so much, holding onto you with everything he had was simply a state of being.

Anyways - going on a trek through a planet you barely knew wasn’t your idea of fun. Especially not at 4am, when rain was lashing down from the skies and the only thing shielding you was a jumper you’d stolen from the pilot. The sky was pitch black, navy blue tinging at the edges as morning slowly broke. It was summer, after all and Poe had insisted on coming to his dad’s on this particular weekend because the weather was going to be great, babe, I promise! You were going to give him a bollocking for that one once you got back home. 

You’d checked every room in Kes’ house, but to no avail - hence why you were now trekking down their garden path. Poe’s childhood home was worlds away from bases you’d lived on for the last few years. It was warm and welcoming; humble but filled with love. It made sense, really. Poe was the best person you knew and it was clear that he’d come from two good people. You could see little bits of Kes in him - he had his nose and his laugh, and the same crinkles by his eyes when he smiled. Everything else, apparently, was from Shara.

Shara. The tree. 

You figured that if you were going to disappear at some ungodly hour, you probably would have gone somewhere meaningful too. 

Suddenly, you didn’t care about the rain or the fact it was cold. You didn’t care that your hair was getting wet or that you were almost loopy with tiredness. The minute you saw Poe kneeling down the tree, the only thing on your mind was being with him. He needed you, even if he hadn’t woken you up. Neither of you had a whimsical Force connection, nor any other worldly thread from him to you: you just knew. 

‘Hey, baby.’ You placed a hand on his shoulder, kneeling down him. His curly hair was soaked from the rain, eyes glassy as they stared into the dark tangle of shrubbery and leaves straight ahead of you. ‘What’s going on?’

‘Just thinking.’ Poe replied. 

Dropping down onto the grass next to him, you leaned into his side and rested your head against his shoulder. He naturally responded by bringing his arm to your waist, pulling you closer to his body. It was a little counter-intuitive given that both your clothes were soaked through by the rain, but it was the gesture that counted. He liked to hold you; to be close to you. 

‘About Shara?’ You quietly asked. 

‘I miss her.’ He murmured. ‘I know it’s been years but...I miss her.’

‘Poe, she was your mum.’ You gave his shoulder a squeeze. ‘She is your mum. And from what I’ve heard, she was pretty fucking amazing.’

‘She was.’ He peered down at you, a smile playing on his lips. 

Poe knew that Shara would have adored you. He adored you. After losing her, he’d never quite felt settled. He always felt like he was looking for something, as though he were seeking out the final piece in a puzzle he didn’t even know he’d been doing. It probably goes without saying that you were the part that completed it; the person finally made him feel whole after far too many years of soul searching. 

If he were able to, he would have gone back in time and found you earlier. He would have met you earlier, made you his earlier. The fear of losing you in the way he’d lost his mother was so unbearable that the idea of not having spent every possible second with you terrified him. But, you were here with him now - in the rain, under the glow of the distant moon. 

‘She’d be proud of you, Poe.’ You said. ‘You’ve achieved so much. You made commander and then general, you led the entire freaking Resistance to success and you finished everything that she started.’

‘I always thought of her when things got tough.’ He quietly admitted. ‘Y’know those missions you were just...done? When it made you second guess if things were worth it?’

‘A little too well.’ You replied. 

‘My ma was the thing that got me through it.’ He explained. ‘She finished the fight and she got to go home. That’s what helped me pull through.’

‘It worked.’ You said. ‘We’re home.’

Poe returned your smile, gently leaning down to brush his lips against yours. Truthfully speaking, neither of you were sure where home was in a physical sense. It was wherever Poe was, really; it didn’t matter if you were here, or in your apartment on Coruscant, or in the thick jungles of Ajan Kloss. As long as he was next to you, that was all you needed. 

‘It’s funny, actually - you listed all the things I’ve achieved but you missed the most important one.’ He broke the silence between you. 

‘Yeah?’ You quirked an eyebrow. ‘What’s that?’

‘You.’ Poe replied. ‘Winning the war was important to me but none of it would have been worth it if I didn’t have you on the other side.’

‘Poe.’ You softly murmured, hand ghosting over his cheek. ‘I love you - also, that’s really fucking cheesy.’

Despite the tears in his eyes, he grinned at you. ‘I know - and I love you too.’

You stayed like that a few moments, simply holding onto each other as the rain lashed down on you. Nothing else around you mattered: it was you and it was Poe. That was all either of you needed. Come hell or high water - good times and bad times, war and peace, rain and sun - you were the thing he was going to hold onto. His parents had taught him a lot but above all, they’d shown him what love was. It was fighting together; growing together and having one another’s backs. Then, you’d taken that definition and you’d taught him a little more. 

‘You should have this.’ Poe pulled away from you for a moment, reaching around his neck. ‘I should've given you this ring a long time ago, actually.’

‘Are you sure?’ You took it in your hands, holding the silver ring for a moment. It was small, but you knew how much it meant. 

‘My mum left it behind for me to give to the right person.’ He said. ‘I think she’d kick my ass if I didn’t give it to you.’

Undoing the chain, you gently moved the ring off of it and slid it over your hands. The fact they were wet from the rain made the gesture smooth - but it fit. It fit perfectly, snug on your ring finger. It looked right too, as though it belonged there. There was so much history in the small piece of jewellery, and you and Poe were about to add more meaning to it. It was a feeling you couldn’t quite describe. You got a lot of that with him. 

‘I should probably verify that this is a proposal.’ Poe continued. ‘I just...I guess I should have led with that.’

‘It fits.’ You held your hand up to him.

‘So that’s a yes?’

‘Yes, it’s a yes!’ You lightly shoved his shoulder, pulling him into another kiss. 

‘I did have a speech planned.’ He murmured against your lips. ‘About the world, and you and me, and destiny and-’

‘- Poe.’ You cut him off. ‘You don’t need to say anything. Whatever you feel, I feel it too. I get it.’

‘So you’re feeling cold too?’ He wrapped an arm around you waist, pulling you closer. 

‘Terribly.’ 

‘The rain is romantic though-’

‘- just kiss me, Dameron.’

tags: @cherieboba​ @likeshootingstarsinthenightsky​

[theravencawsatmidnight]

Rabbit. Chapter Two Part Two

Draco x Hufflepuff reader

Tags; @khemz1312 @trashyvicks @dracoslittlesunflower @dracmalf0y-dm @rosiehufflepuff @goofygobber @shinsouscatpisssmell

W!Heavy Ptsd, mental freak outs. Hearing voices, blood, bruises, cuts. Draco trying to convince himself he’s fine. Refusing to ask for help. Mental instability. The voices are the Dementors

After two years in Azkaban for how he treated you he was finally free. The only thing keeping him going was you. Now finally reunited with his Rabbit he thinks things will go easier for him. But Draco is struggling mentally and refusing to ask for help, but his only hope might be the person he despises the most

Draco did not return to the bedroom, he ran his hands under the cold water staring at them watching the blood run down his wrists down to the drain of the sink trying to think of a way around this… what could he do ? he needed help… The man shook his head at just the thought of him asking for help. “Rubbish.” he slapped the water off drying his hands on his briefs and going to check on you to see you asleep.

Its dark there huh?

Like the cell

“Shut up…” the tired shaky man shook his head going back to the living room, his vision was dizzy and he had to drag himself along the wall so he would not stumble and fall.

Why do you even bother?

Coming here?

“B-b-because..”Draco fell into the back of the couch seeing Biscuit asleep on his pillow and quickly went around the furniture to scoop up the rabbit holding him close to his chest. He let out a heavy sigh of relief once he felt Biscuits cold nose against his chest sniffing around. “I ,.. Wanna be with her…” he laid down on the couch with the curious bunny on his chest. He shook his head several times trying to get the voices to subside..

But does she want to be with .. you?

“She does.. “

Draco did not last long in the dark; he had gotten up and turned every light on except for the bedroom . one thing Draco did learn in Azkaban was that the Dementors hated the light. So every night he would sit under the window in his cell hoping the moon would be full and bright enough to shine in on him… But even with all the lights on he still saw darkness when he shut his eyes…

He was back on the couch with Biscuit on his chest again trying to think of something else, anything else. He wanted to share the bed with you so bad.. He longed for that moment with you. To have you snuggle against him .. tracing your finger on his chest.. Telling him stories .. cuddling up to him when you get cold.. Did you have any cute sleeping habits he wondered.. And did you prefer the middle or the edge of the bed.. Did you like to sleep in …?

“Rabbit……”

What if you get worse?

You already broke a glass, remember?

“Shut u-u-p…” he was starting to sweat, a long bead of it sliding down his head. We miss you Draco

Dont you miss us?

“N-no..” his hands found his hair digging into his locks. “I .. “

We love you for who you are Draco.

“You bastards made me this way..!” he sat up and Biscuit hopped off his lap scaring Draco, he jumped shielding his face till he realized it was just the bunny. “Im…” he wrapped his arms around himself feeling very sticky and uncomfortable all over, his skin felt like it was crawling and his bruises ached again with each heave of breath he took from his chest. “Im fine…”

You are fine , Draco.

Perfectly fine

Your fine

Your fine

Your fine…

Your ..fine

You-r fi-ne…

“SHUT UP!!!” Draco threw himself on the floor hitting his head hard on the wood making the voices subside, he stayed there for a minute, crying.

**

In the morning you had woken up to an empty bed and every light on in your home. Quickly you jumped out of bed rushing to the living room to see it empty. “dr..Draco..”

“Yes Rabbit?” you heard behind you.

You whipped around seeing Draco with a towel around his neck and sweats on him. You clung to him sighing with relief. “Nothing.. Goodmorning.”

Draco squeezed you tight, wrapping an arm around your back and head giving you a gentle kiss on your forehead. Draco had passed out from exhaustion last night around 3 AM and woke up not too long ago drenched in a cold sweat with Biscuit wiggling his nose on his cheek . he had no idea when you would wake up so he had to hurry and cover his tracks.

“Good Morning Rabbit.” Draco squeezed you again and you slipped free taking his hand.

“I'm thinking.. We go get some clothes today?”

“S-sure.”

“And i think the twins opened their shop up again, maybe we could .. go check it out? Everyone deserves a good laugh sometimes..”

he was nervous.. It would be crowded in the twins shop...

Why dont you just run away

Come back to us

You cant handle things on your own anymore

You cant handle this-

He shook his head bringing your hand to his lips so he could kiss it. “Sounds good, Rabbit.”

The shopping went.. Okay.. there's only so many choices in Diagon Alley after all. Simple dress clothes and a couple loose shirts was all he needed. All though you insisted he get some more clothes he could relax in .

“Draco dont you want more loose fitting things?”

“D-dosint ma-matter Rabbit” he was having a hard time talking to other people. Everyone he ran into asked him about Azkaban and you had to step in and change the subject before Draco blew up at them. You noticed he did not walk the same way he did in Hogwarts; back then he had his head in the clouds, his ego on his sleeve, his attitude front and center and that damn smug smile he wore on that damn grumpy face.

Now he looked over his shoulder, shook his head, faked his smile and rubbed his hands alot to keep himself from scratching his arms. You noticed he only did it when the wind blew and were growing more and more concerned about him. Something was wrong, something awful must have happened in Azkaban… but the real question was would he ask you to listen to him explain… anyone… someone.. You loved Draco Malfoy, but you worried for his health too.

“Hmm.. im going to get you a few more . ill be right back “

“O-o kay, ill be .. at the twins shop”

You turned to grab his hand “you sure youll be okay alone?”

Will you?

We dont think so

You wont be alone Draco

….you will have us…

He shook his head and pulled you in for a hug and kissed your lips. “Im sure, Pet. no go get me something nice yeah?” he patted your head, getting a small smile out of you.

“Yes, Draco” you teased him hurrying off into the clothing store again. It warmed his heart a bit.. He loved the teasing .. he wanted more of it. He wanted hsi days to be full of it…

Its a shame…

...that this will not last..

..but….. Everyday you go on..

...brings you closer to us…

“Shut.. up..i shouldn't be able to hear you in that bloody twins shop … “ Draco stumbled turning around to make hsi way to the very eyesore of a shop.

*

Loud. it was loud. It was crowded and people were everywhere laughing, playing jokes on others, playing music, things were flying around, confetti and the likes. People shoving to get to the next big attraction and shoving all kinds of colourful candy in their mouths. Draco flinched every time someone touched him. Usually he would yell and shove back but .. all he could do now was cower and look over his shoulder . his head was quiet, for once. He could not hear the Dementors in here and the shop was well lit too making it easier to keep them at bay.

Draco maneuvered the shop looking for the twins , it should not be too hard. All the Weasleys have this unique look to them. Draco moved to the center of the store when someone bumped him trying to get by making him jump and stumble into the desk hitting his hip, someone else pushed by and he white knuckled the furniture starting to breath heavily.

Draco…..

Draco…….

Draco……….

“Dammit.. Shut up….” he pulled himself up looking over the people seeing the twins at the back of the store. Carefully he made his way to them and they both saw him and waved.

“There he is !” Fred said.

“All is right now yep” George added.

Draco was holding his side trying to stand up straight and look intimidating but the look on his face told the twins he was afraid.

“Bloody… twins.”

“Thats us!” they both said with pride.

“Wheres… Pottah…..”

They looked at each other and then Draco, getting a good look at him.

“You okay Mate?” Fred asked , helping him steady himself

“How is y/n by the way?” George asked.

“Shes f--f-f-ine, “ he shook Fred off gulping down a breath. “Where. Is. Pottah”

“Uhm.. top floor actually, hes getting some things for his kids.” Fred pointed.

“Thanks..” Draco shot them a look with a slight nod and made hsi way up the steps to the much more empty area. He spotted Harry looking over some joke spells in a book . Draco tried to be quiet but…

The boy who lived?

Draco stumbled into a desk making it squeak, Harry looked up from the book and quickly put it down to go to Dracos side. He was struggling to stand and breathe.

“Draco…? Are you alright?”

“Sshh--shut up…-”

Yes ,,, Draco …

Shut him out…

You dont need him

You only need us

...you only need… us

Harry helped the man anyway and Draco slumped into his side cursing himself. Harry helped Draco to an empty room and shut the door, carefully he sat the man down in a chair and sat down across from him not saying anything. Draco was a mess inside and out right now, he hated Pottah, hated everything about him , how dare he refuse to be his friend all those years ago? That duel… that damn… quidditch match… that damn….. Bird …

Leave..

Leave

Draco, leave

You dont need-

“P-p-pott-ah,.....”

Dont.

“I … n-ee-dd,....” he dug his fingers in his hair whimpering in front of this man .

Harry instantly knew something was wrong, he stayed as calm as he could.

Draco Malfoy of Slytherin... the smug, man who did not care for anyone else at all , only himself. Never asked for help from anyone, did things his way… picked on whoever he wanted...not a care in the world… was whimpering in front of the man he hated most. On the verge of a breakdown.

“I need…..”

DONT DRACO!!!

He looked in Harrys eyes with heavy tears falling down his face… staining the wood table. “I need help……………………..please………………”

[nataliedanovelist]

GF - Jolly Sailor Bold

(Spoiler alert: I lied about the “jolly” part.)

Word count: 1431

~~~~~~~~~~

Stan walked into the town that was much bigger than it was when he first came forty-five years ago. It wasn’t that far of a walk and Sixer had always encouraged exercise, though most people would be opposed to a seventy-two-year-old man walking in woods filled with gnomes, tree-giants, Mantours, and Hawktopuses that could attack. But not every old man could still kick butt like Stan could, so he emerged from the trees sharing his name and joined the sidewalk.

First thing he noticed was a small pine tree outside of town, a bit wilted and weak, a sad excuse for a twig with pointy green leaves. Stan caught sight of an abandoned cup of water, smiled cunningly, and tipped the water over with the end of his eight-ball cane; he didn’t really depend on aid for walking, but it was good to have just in case. Before Stan could think to pick up the litter, a gnome scurried over, pick it up, hissed, and ran back into the woods. The old sailor shrugged, his long gray hair shifting at the movement, and he continued on his tiny journey.

At the grocery store, Stan used a small cart for his trip, tucking his cane in it, and wandering for what he needed. He can remember the first time he met Gideon, in this very store, a spoiled baby screaming and kicking for candy he had dropped, but Stan had picked it up and eaten it right in front of the twerp, being the first person in Gideon’s life to tell him “no”. Today was entirely different.

Stan first noticed an old couple his age, bitter and annoyed. The husband had mumbled, “Back in my day, y’all got a good beatin’ for actin’ like that.” Stan then heard the distant crying, and coincidentally, as he walked in his desired direction, he unintentionally came across the crying child.

With his recent years with toddlers and young kids, Stan had learned the difference between an angry scream from a grumpy toddler and a woeful cry from a sad young heart; this was the latter. A young mom with frazzled hair, who looked far too stretched, was rubbing the back of a three-year-old boy, who held a stuffed soldier that somewhat resembled him. Stan sighed, understanding, as he remembered the war going on in China, and reached into the pocket of his trenchcoat.

The tiny boy hiccuped in surprise by the music. His mother turned and saw an old man approach, playing a harmonica with warm brown eyes. She smiled as her son’s crying slowly went away, until all he could do was sniffle with a runny nose.

Stan made his old knees bend so he could be eye-level with the tyke, playing the old lullaby his Ma used to sing forever ago, and he stretched the last note to make the good times stick around. There was a moment of silence, but then the three-year-old grinned, clapped, and caught sight of some long hair over Stan’s shoulder and grabbed the tugged. Stan yelped comedically, making the boy laugh, and his mother squeezed Stan’s shoulder and thanked him before they parted ways.

In order to get home, Stan had to pass a park they had built ten years ago or so, while he was out sailing. It was nice, with a play area and a big field for soccer and football, and it was surrounded by shops and businesses to make it convenient. When Stan was going to the grocery store, the park had been empty, but now a small band of boys were playing soccer, so he paused to watch them for a second. As these games usually go, the ball was getting closer and closer to a goal, and one kid, whose friends were cheering him on excitedly, gave a powerful kick for the point. Unfortunately it was too powerful and too crooked, and it missed the goal entirely and smashed a window of the shop Stan stood nearby.

“HEY!”

Stan laughed and shook his head as the boys were still with fear. “Y’know, a responsible adult would tell ya to own up to whatcha did.”

The door of the tattoo shop flew open with a bang and a huge buff man with skulls all over his body roared, “WHEN I’M DONE WITH YOU BRATS, THE WINDOW WON’T BE THE ONLY THING THAT’S BROKEN!”

“But not me.” Stan added. “SCATTER!”

They all ran in different directions, Stan going down the sidewalk, closer to the edge of town; all those years of being chased by cops or freaking stuff really paid off sometimes. The old man stopped at a park bench in an alley to rest, huffing and puffing and setting his grocery bag down next to him. He had his eyes closed for a second when he heard a painfully familiar phrase.

“Gimme all your money.”

Stan opened his eyes calmly and looked to his left, deeper into the alley, and saw a skinny guy in all black pointing a gun at him. He should be scared, or at least anxious, but one look at the guy’s awful stance destroyed any fear Stan should have felt. He smiled, stood slowly, and asked like he was talking to an old friend. “What in Moses’ name are ya doin’?”

“Mugging you, duh.” The guy snapped.

“With that stance, kid?” He asked, scratching his red beanie-covered head.

“Wh- Just gimme your money, old man!”

“Bad roots make a bad tree, pal.” Quicker than the young man could register, Stan swooped down and used his eight-ball cane to sweep the robber off his feet and stole his gun, leaving the criminal in the mud to watch the ex-criminal drop the bullets with a twirl of the gun.

To the robber’s surprise, Stan held out a hand to him. He took it shamefully, and was even more surprised when Stan was helping him reposition himself. “With a solid stance, you’re a much better threat… wait, move your… there we go! Much better!” Stan held his square, wrinkly chin, and added, “Uh, no offense, but ya don’t look like the criminal type to me.”

“I… you… I…” The young man slumped and closed his eyes, ready to bolt for it, but Stan popped open a can of Pitt and held it out to him.

A few minutes go by and the two are sitting on the bench, sipping the drinks from Stan’s grocery bag, talking about life and women and goals. Stan did a lot of listening and used his experience to lend some much needed advice, sounding like an average joe and therefore easier to relate to and listen to.

“Hey… thanks.” The young man said when he stood up after an hour of talking.

Stan shrugged. “Some wise old man once said that it’s okay to accept help here and there, cuz it’s not often offered, but we need to fix that.”

The now ex-criminal raised an eyebrow with a smile. “Are you that wise old man?”

Stan gave him a sly look. “That’s a secret, kid.”

Eventually Stan did make it back to the Stan O’ War II, docked at the Gravity Falls lake, giving him a homey place with space but also easy company. Soos, Melody, and Jacob were only a twenty minute walk away and always checked on him. He stepped onto his boat with ease, a bit disturbed at how quiet it was here, but he’d fixed that soon.

Stan turned on the lights and sat his bag on the kitchen table. He pulled out a small half-chocolate, half-strawberry cake, opened it, pulled out two candles, got the lighter from his pocket, and lit the twin candles. He then looked at the wall that faced him, his eyes meeting another pair of eyes that matched his own. Stan made his aching body move to take the framed photograph off the wall and set it on the table, next to the cake.

“Happy Birthday, Sixer.” He croaked when he sat back down, his vision becoming blurry. “Why couldn't I’ve helped ya one last time…”

Stan squeezed his eyes shut in a sad attempt to make the tears go away, but it didn’t work. He pulled out his harmonica again and began to play the old lullaby, wondering if his brother could hear or care or even remember the words their Ma used to sing to them.

“Waves coming, The tide is high, As well as the sparkling moon, Matching the stars.

Little sailor bold, Oh, come with me, Brave sailor bold. Come sailing home.”

~~~~~~~~~~

Jacob belongs to @stephreynaart.

[theatreslave]

Recovery Ch 2

Second Chapter of my Manifest Fic Jared/Drea Fic

By the end of their first week as partners, Jared and Drea had gotten into an easy routine. Jared, like the lieutenant he is, would arrive at the precinct first. He would drop off a cup of coffee at Drea’s desk and then head over to his own. Drea would arrive a half hour later with some breakfast for the both of them, some days she would make something and other days she would grab something nearby.

Then they both would both be at their desks looking over files until one or the other needed some type of consultation. It was surprisingly easy. The banter was fast and snarky which fit their dynamic. When they were out in the field, Drea didn’t mind letting Jared take the lead. He was an amazing detective and seeing him in action first hand was a treat for her. Things had been pretty standard since Michaela left, thankfully no 828er drama or anything from the Xers. Just your run of the mill robberies, domestics, and crimes of passion.

Jared had been over to Drea’s two more times since that first night. Once to cook for her to prove that he wasn’t a terrible cook after a disagreement over tastes in pizza, long story. The next time was to watch a horror movie that Drea insisted that Jared wouldn’t be able to get through; he didn’t. At least not without turning all the lights on and some cuddles from Mimi.

Jared was surprised by how easy it was to get along with Drea without Michaela around. He had thought it might be awkward without a common denominator, but it was anything but. Drea was charming. As simple as that. She was always smiling, playful, and endlessly curious. Opinionated and stubborn. It made for some hilarious conversations and interesting bets between them. But she was also an incredibly competent detective. He had seen her put her rich upbringing to use, from finding connections to get them into exclusive illegal online auctions, to clearance for an emergency helicopter landing on private property. She could slip from one persona to the next seamlessly, happy-go-lucky rookie to experienced and connected detective. And Jared liked her. Not like that. But he enjoyed her company and was honestly happy to call her his friend.

Drea on the other hand was surprised to learn that Jared really did have a life outside of his Michaela obsession and his romantic escapades. He took hikes on his own and knew all the trails around the greater New York area. He loved cooking and playing cards. He was also as charming as could be. She knew he was handsome, everybody did. When she had started with the precinct she noticed, but he was married back then so she didn’t bat an eye. But having his attention on her, his focus, occasionally made her blush. Not that she liked him like that. She was actually very happy to call him a friend. Jared didn’t seem to mind her invites or challenges and that was all the encouragement she needed.

It was the end of a long Saturday that had them running around in search of a kidnapped child. Thankfully the culprit had a soul and only wanted the car. They dropped the kid off in a park and his parents’ stranger danger training had kicked in and he had run into a school that happened to have after school programs. The relief that had travelled through everyone in search of this child was palpable. By dumb luck a rookie had stumbled upon the stolen vehicle on the way home in Queens. The culprit had been arrested, the parents and child reunited, and all was well.

Jared was in a jovial mood after the day’s successes. He was perched on the corner of Drea’s desk urging her to hurry up with the paperwork for the day so they could grab dinner, “Come on Mikami, you can type faster than that.”

Before Drea could respond her cell phone rang. Recognizing the name she swept it up and shushed Jared, “Hi Mom.”

Jared smirked and decided to have a little fun. He made his way around the desk to stand behind her. Speaking louder than normal he said, “Drea, baby, hurry up, I wanna take you out.”

Drea smacked his arm hard, sending him into a fit of laughter. The few officers still at the precinct just ignored the two’s antics, a familiar sight already. “No Mom, that was nothing. Just my partner messing with me. Yeah, yeah don’t worry about it.”

Jared proceeded to poke her lightly but quickly in the side making her yelp. Before he could run, Drea was up, had tripped him, and had him in a headlock. Jared sputtered, turning red with amusement and embarrassment at his new position.

“Oh nothing Ma, I just stubbed my toe. Yes I will be careful. Don’t listen to him Mom, you know I have coworkers over sometimes. It’s nothing weird.” Drea squeezed a bit tighter when Jared tried to pry her arm away. He finally stopped struggling when he realized how strong she really was. “I know Mom, but do I have to? I told you I could take care of it. Mom, please? Fine, but I’m bringing my partner with me. Ok bye.”

Drea ended the call then proceeded to give Jared a noogie, “Hey watch the hair!”

“You idiot! You’re lucky my mom is hard of hearing or she would have had a heart attack. I’ve already had to convince her that you coming over was nothing. She’s already on my ass about being paired with ‘unseemly men’ all the time.” Drea said finally relinquishing her hold on Jared.

“Unseemly?” Jared said, loosening his tie, “Was the head lock really necessary?”

Drea smacked him again, “Grab your stuff and go home and shower and get into a new suit. I will pick you up in an hour and you are coming with me to this fundraiser my cousin is throwing.”

“Oh no no no, you are not dragging me along to one of your rich people functions,” Jared insisted.

“There will be free gourmet food and I will buy you those new Nike’s when they get released next week.” Drea bargained.

Jared held her gaze for a long moment then finally caved, “Deal.”

“Ok then I will see you in a little over an hour. Bye!” Drea said before hurriedly packing her things and then rushing out the door.

Jared stood in shock, wondering exactly what he got himself into, before he headed out the same way.

He didn’t want to look like a complete fool so he had opted for his higher end deep navy suit and brown shoes and belt. Jared’s shirt was a light yellow and his tie matched with a deep blue and yellow pattern, perfect for spring. He looked at his reflection in the mirror and nodded his head. Not too shabby considering it was last minute. Honestly he probably should have asked Drea what exactly to wear. His phone chimed telling him that Drea was waiting outside for him.

Drea was waiting in her car, waving for him to hop in. Once he was buckled in he finally had a chance to take a look at Drea all dressed up. She was wearing a soft blue lace dress that reached her knees. It had cap sleeves and a rounded neckline. Her hair fell in soft waves and was longer, down to mid-back.

“Are you wearing extensions?” Jared finally breathed out.

“Yea, my mom likes it better when I have longer hair,” Drea replied, focusing on the road.

Jared couldn’t stop himself and reached out to play with an errant curly, “I really like it.”

Drea turned to him, surprised, “Don’t go falling for me now, Vasquez.”

Jared just laughed, “Not falling. Just appreciating that my usually childish partner can actually look like a beautiful grown woman.”

“You clean up pretty great too. We even match a little,” Drea glanced at him with a smile, “ Anyway, I just need you to mingle with me and protect me from my dad’s creepy business partners and hopefully deter my mum from trying to introduce me to any of their sons.”

“And your mom will stop because I’m around?” Jared asked.

“She assumes that I’m dating any man I talk to, no matter what I say otherwise. Bringing you to a function will get rumors going and the damage control will get her off my back. Oh and don’t take any bribes from her or her butlers,” Drea rambled.

“So I’m your date?” Jared said with a smirk.

“Technically, so don’t go flirting with anyone or my mother might have you shipped off somewhere. She might not like me “dating” but she will raise hell if anyone cheats on me,” Drea warned.

Jared couldn’t help but laugh, “This might actually be fun. How much PDA would freak out your hoity toity rich friends?”

“They barely shake hands, let alone hug. But don’t get any ideas,“ Drea managed to glare at Jared who just raised his hands in defeat.

They approached a large venue with a sprawling lawn and a circular valet drop off. Jared was distracted by the sheer size of the place and the extravagant cars that were being valeted off to a hidden parking lot. “Hey, Drea?”

Jared turned to his partner only to see her handing her keys off to a valet boy. It was then that he noticed her demure lace dress was actually backless, showing off her clear skin and an intricate moon phase tattoo down her spinal column. Just like her hair, he felt his fingers twitch, wanting to touch the tattoo. But she turned. “Are you nervous? You don’t have to be. I promise they are mostly nice, just a bit snooty. Just go with the flow, eat the food, and then I can take you home.”

“Your place or mine?” Jared said absentmindedly, the image of her bareback glued to his sight.

Drea just smacked his shoulder and then started walking into the venue. Jared shook his head and then followed her up the stairs and between the columns of marble. He cursed under his breath. Seeing her looking so different from her rather tomboy-esque persona at work was having an odd effect on him. He took a deep breath. She’s just a friend. A good friend. Don’t mess this up.

Jared stood next to Drea at the entrance of a ballroom. There were quite a few people making small talk, sitting at various tables, and drinking champagne. Jared took Drea’s hand and placed it on the crook of his arm. She seemed nervous but she latched onto his arm, turned to him and smiled, then pulled him along.

A few people waved at her, some greeted her as she walked by, but thankfully no one stopped them or asked her about her date. The tables seemed to be assigned and soon Drea stopped in front of a round table that already had a severe looking older asian woman and a softer looking older asian man seated.

“Hi Mom. Hi Dad.” Drea said in greeting. The two elders stood up, hugging their daughter and sneaking glances at Jared, “This is my partner, Lieutenant Jared Vasquez.”

“Nice to meet you.” Jared offered his hand for a shake but the two just nodded their heads.

“I am Eileen Tamaki and this is my husband, Akimitsu Tamaki.” Eileen said, looking at Jared up and down. Akimitsu who had been staring intently finally smiled then reached out a hand to shake Jared’s. Jared didn’t know what was going on but shook his hand and even bowed a little not wanting to be rude, despite the earlier rejection.

“I have seen you on the news Lieutenant. I knew you were familiar, it took me a moment to place you. You have solved many cases in this city of ours, it is my pleasure to meet you. It makes me feel relieved to have you working with my daughter in such a dangerous field,“ Akimitsu praised, his eyes glowing with kindness.

“It’s my pleasure, sir. Your daughter is a great detective. I can always rely on her.” Jared replied sincerely.

“Come and sit, before the others arrive,” Her father gestured to the table. The size and roundness of the table caused Jared and Drea to sit across from her parents so it would be easier to talk. Eileen still had a stoniness to her visage while Akimitsu was already making small talk.

“Drea didn’t you have anything else to wear?” Eileen finally chimed in hushed tones.

“Eileen, leave her alone. She’s a grown woman, she can wear what she wants.” Akimitsu interrupted. “She looks lovely and I’m sure Jared agrees with me.”

“She looks beautiful,” Jared agreed.

Drea blushed at their defense, not noticing the very different looks her parents were sending Jared’s way. Before anything more could be said, two women who looked around Drea’s age came up to the table greeting everyone. The taller redhead was named Katrina, and her blonde friend was named Melody. Drea greeted them warmly as they took seats next to her. Before Jared could be introduced, two younger men joined the table as well. Katrina’s husband, Caleb, and Melody’s fiance, Ivan.

“The youth have arrived my dear, it is time we move to our own table now that we have seen Drea,” Akimitsu said as he stood up, offering his hand to his wife.

“I knew you weren’t assigned to sit with me, Uncle Rico would have been jealous,” Drea said as she waved to her parents. Eileen and Akimitsu said their farewells, nodding to Jared, before making their way across the ballroom.

“So Drea, introduce us,” Katrina giggled, gesturing towards Jared. Drea smiled awkwardly as the rest of the table made noises of agreement.

Jared decided to grant her some mercy and introduced himself, “I’m Jared Vasquez, Drea’s partner. It’s nice to meet you all.”

“Drea! Where have you been hiding him?” Melody asked excitedly, “If I didn’t have Ivan around I would have had to steal Jared away.”

Jared just threw an arm around Drea’s shoulders, “I’m definitely not that easy to steal away.”

Ivan chuckled, “I don’t know, Jared, she managed to pull me away from Major League baseball, she’s incredibly convincing. Still not sure if it was worth it though.”

“Hey!” Melody retorted, flicking water at her fiance, “That’s why you’re gonna marry me!”

“I know, what am I thinking,” Ivan faked a look of regret before smiling, “Don’t go flirting with Drea’s man, Mel, it isn’t me you’ll have to worry about.”

“Yeah Mel, you know how protective Drea is. She would literally fight you if you touch her man, remember, Isaac?” Katrina said.

“Jared’s not my man, he's just my partner. I’m never going to live that down, am I?” Drea said, letting out a short laugh.

“Dumping a glass of wine on Mel’s white Versace gown because she flirted with your man at her birthday party was a bit too dramatic to be forgettable,” Caleb finally joined the conversation, “We all know that Mel’s a flirt, Drea, but you were so far up that guys ass.”

“Don’t remind me. Sorry, about that again Mel. Really.” Drea said looking embarrassed.

“It’s old news Drea, no worries. You ended up getting the short end of the stick on that one,” Mel said looking sympathetic.

“Hey, hey, no walking down ‘bad memory lane.’ Drea is safe and sound with a hottie on her arm, and looking sexy as ever. Don’t think I didn’t notice the open back on that dress,” Katrina interrupted, expertly changing the subject.

Jared found himself lost in thought as they started talking about outfits and some fashion show. He was curious about Isaac. Who was he and why was he such a sore spot? He was so lost in thought he didn’t realize that he was absentmindedly playing with Drea’s hair.

Melody leaned in to whisper into Drea’s ear,”He’s cute Drea, and he seems to really like you.”

“It’s not like that, he’s just my partner at work, I brought him so Mom wouldn’t try to introduce me to anyone tonight,” Drea whispered back.

“I don’t know, Drea, he seems very affectionate. Act or not, he’s comfortable around you, and you are with him. Maybe it’s a game right now but keep an open mind. I think he would be good for you,” Melody said with a smile.

Two more men joined the table. A slightly older man who greeted Drea warmly. Apparently her cousin Julian, the one putting on the fundraiser. The last was a tall handsome Korean man named Kevin who seemed to immediately dislike Jared and his proximity to Drea. Jared made a point to lean closer to Drea, feeling oddly protective seeing the way the man eyed her hungrily.

“Julian, Kevin, this is my partner, Jared Vasquez, he’s helping me deter mom from throwing me to the wolves,” Drea said.

“He’s definitely an upgrade from the last man you introduced us to, Drea,” Julian joked before reaching out to shake Jared’s hand, “Nice to meet you, man. Be careful with the elder Mikami. She’s been trying to get Drea married off for years. Every event I throw inadvertently gets turned into a speed dating event for Drea. I’m happy she found a friend willing to put up with it to spare her some embarrassment.”

“My pleasure, Drea’s a great partner,” Jared said, throwing a fond smile her way.

“Nice to meet you,” Kevin said stiffly as he shook Jared’s hand. He then turned to Drea, “If you needed a date you could have asked me Drea.”

“Oh stop it Kevin, you’re one of the ones that Mrs. Mikami would force Drea to marry. You know Drea, she wants a ‘normal guy’,” Katrina said bluntly.

“Guys, just stop. I’m not getting married anytime soon to anyone,” Drea said with a hint of frustration, “Can we talk about Mel and Ivan finally getting engaged after 7 years.”

Julian and Kevin took the last two seats at the table across from Jared and Drea. The group started talking jovially about Melody and Ivan’s upcoming nuptials. The dinner was served and it was one of the most delicious meals that he had had in a while. It was nice seeing Drea loosen up and talk with friends he had known since she was a child.

Eventually, Julian left the table to host the event. It was pretty standard, the tickets and donations from all these rich people would go to some charity for underprivileged kids in the city. It devolved from there into a party with a band playing instrumental music. Things were going incredibly smooth until Jared decided to go to the restroom.

The two couples had gone off to the dancefloor, Julian was off mingling, and that left Kevin and Drea. Kevin immediately took a seat next to Drea, taking her hand and leaning in close so she could hear him speak.

“Drea, you look so beautiful tonight. When will you give me a chance?” Kevin asked, gripping her hand tightly.

“Kevin, stop joking around,” Drea shrugged him off, removing her hand from his grasp to reach for her wine glass.

Kevin grabbed her hand again and leaned in so that his lips were brushing her ear with each word, “Drea, I’m not joking. You told me to wait. After everything with Isaac you needed time to heal. So I gave you that time. It’s been five years, Drea. I’m the CEO of my family’s company. Your father and I are business partners. Your mother has given her blessing. I expected to come here and finally confess again now that you’ve let off some steam with this rebellion. But it’s time to leave that job and your partner behind and come back and run our families’ businesses together.”

“Kevin, let me go. I know what I said before. I did my healing and I won’t settle for anything less than I want and deserve. And I don’t want you. I’m sorry.” Drea whispered back urgently, pushing Kevin back into his seat.

“You’re such a stupid bitch you know that. After everything we’ve been through. After you chose that psycho over me. And who did you go running to when he turned on you? You think you’re too good for me Drea? You’re nothing but a used up druggies bitch who doesn’t know when to shut up and just take her best option. Or do you only let psycho meth heads fuck you? Does your new partner know what kind of whore you are?” Kevin seethed, getting in her face. His voice grew louder with each sentence. The music and chatter was still louder than him, but those nearby had started to notice that something was wrong.

Drea was close to tears, standing from her seat she addressed him, “How could you say that?”

“How could you reject me? I’m more than you deserve but I would still love you Drea. Even knowing your history. Not many men would. Especially men of my caliber. You think your little lieutenant will still like you when he finds out what they did to you? You aren’t worth anything Drea. But I’m worth so much that I can make up for it. Just stop being such a pig headed bitch and make a good choice for once!” Kevin urged her. Grabbing her by her shoulders and shaking her.

Suddenly, Drea was pulled from his grasp and Jared was in front of her, throwing a punch so hard that Kevin landed hard on the floor, knocked out. Eyes started turning towards them, someone gasped, someone screamed. Then people were rushing towards them. Jared turned to her to say something, but she couldn’t hear anything. Blood was rushing in her ears, tears were streaming down her face and all she could do was run. So she did.

She ran between the tables, pushed her way through the crowd and escaped through side doors that lead to a courtyard. The spring night air was cold on her skin, her breaths coming in sharp inhales that nearly made her cough. Drea couldn’t see the beautiful garden or the perfectly carved pillars through her tears. The heaving sobs that wracked her body came hard and fast. She reached out for something, anything to cling to while she spiralled into the feeling. Like she was dying. So overwhelmingly alive with pain and cold air and heartache, but at the same time she was dying from it.

Drea’s hand found the cold rock of a pillar and she gripped fruitlessly at the smooth surface. Her knees gave way and she fell. Curling up against the pillar, her hands gripping the cloth at her chest, trying to find her own heart because she didn’t think it could still be there.

Drea was so overwhelmed that she hadn’t noticed that Jared wasn’t far behind her. When he reached for her hands to stop her from tearing her dress she fought back.

“Drea! Drea! It’s me! It’s Jared! I’m not going to hurt you,” Jared pleaded as she scratched and flailed. He managed to grab both her wrists and then held them both down with one hand while the other gently but firmly cupped her cheek, “Drea, look at me. Look at me. You’re ok. You’re safe. It’s just me. It’s Jared.”

Drea met his eyes and familiarity slowly sank in. When she finally spoke her voice was soft and broken from crying, “Jay?”

Jared just opened his arms and Drea threw herself into them, weeping. His mind was moving a mile a minute. He was angry at Kevin for what he said, even though he didn’t understand half of it. He was angry at himself for leaving Drea alone when he was supposed to protect her. But most of all he was worried. Drea never shortened his name. She said she felt like she was stepping into Michaela territory if she did. Instead she made up all kinds of silly names for him instead.

Her wracking sobs soon faded and her breathing slowed. Jared now had his back to the pillar, his arms around Drea, with her in his lap. She had her head curled into the crook of his neck. Jared didn’t say anything as he held her in his arms, gently running his hand up and down the outside of her bicep. He tried not to think of how good she smelled, and how she was trembling just the slightest bit.

The tell tale click of high heels on stone broke the intimate moment. Drea stiffened in his arms but he only held her tighter and whispered reassuring words.

“Drea? Jared?” Katrina called softly before she rounded the pillar. Once she spotted them she gasped at the sight of her friend and knelt down, “Oh Dre. I’m so sorry. If we had known he would push you again we would have never left you alone. He’s gone now. Your dad had a fit and Julian kicked him out. I can’t believe he would say those things.”

Drea didn’t respond, just turned closer into Jared’s neck. She was telling him she wanted to go. He didn’t know how he knew but he knew. “Katrina, is there any way you can get the valet to bring Drea’s car to the back outside the courtyard gate? I think it’s best that I take Drea home.”

“Jared, it really won’t look good for her to just leave. I mean it will be like she let Kevin win,” Katrina responded without thinking.

Drea flinched, and that made Jared angry, “Look Katrina I know we just met, but right now I think the only one who is putting Drea first is me. So please get Drea’s car brought over. We are leaving and I don’t give a damn what any of you people think because Drea did absolutely nothing wrong.”

Properly chastised Katrina whispered an apology before heading back into the building. Jared sighed pulling Drea closer to his chest to bring him some comfort of his own. He leaned his head against Drea’s, kissing her forehead instinctually, “Drea, I’m gonna take you home ok. I know I’m making decisions for you and you hate that but I’m worried about you. So I’m going to take you home where I know you will be safe, away from all this.”

Drea didn’t respond for a moment then he felt her nod her head and grip him tighter. Her voice came soft and muffled, “Take me home, Jay.”

Jared did just that. He took her home to his house. Something told him she didn’t want to go back to her apartment. She didn’t question the route they took or when they arrived in front of his place and he led her inside. Drea was looking less unstable but that didn’t stop Jared from babying her. He sat her in the living room and brought her a glass of cold water. She sipped at it. He carefully took her shoes off and then gingerly started combing her hair. Drea stayed stuck in her thoughts until she realized he was meticulously taking out her clip in extensions and placing them on the coffee table.

Drea was surprised at the thoughtful and detailed gesture and felt herself start crying again. But the tears were silent and accompanied by a sad smile.

“There we go. Well, Cinderella, it is a lot later than midnight and time for bed. I’ll go find you something to sleep in and wash up myself. Then you can have my bedroom and the bathroom,” Jared stood up to go up stairs but Drea grasped his hand. When he turned she stood up and wrapped her arms around his waist. “Thank you, Jared. Thank you for everything.”

“Drea, you’re my friend. You needed me and I was there. I don’t know what all that was but don’t feel like you have to explain anything to me. I’m just happy you’re feeling better. That Kevin guy is a dick. Forget him and anything he said,” Jared replied. He held her close, rubbing his hand up and down on her back. She finally relinquished her grasp on him and looked up at him.

Her eyes were rimmed red and puffy. But she looked up at him with a soft smile, “You really are a knight in a shining necktie.”

Jared laughed and just made his way upstairs. In the meantime, Drea checked her phone. There were a few missed calls and texts that she ignored. She decided not to tell Jared the details behind the confrontation that night. She wasn’t ready to admit it to him. When Jared came down, he had his arms full. An extra blanket and pillow for himself and a t-shirt and boxers for her. “This is all I have but it should be comfortable enough for tonight. Don’t bother arguing with me about my bed. You’re my guest, and after tonight you need the comfort of a nice bed.”

He handed her the clothing then walked over to the couch, setting up his sleeping area. He was wearing thin grey sweats and a black wife beater. If Drea were in a better mood she would have made a joke about seeing him so undressed. Jared was about to settle in and shut off the light when he realized that Drea was still in the room, staring at him, “What?”

“Nothing,” Drea answered quickly, feeling a blush creep up her cheeks.

“No sharing beds. At least not yet,” Jared quipped, winking at her.

“Shut up!” Drea gasped and ran up the stairs.

Jared just chuckled to himself as he shut off the light and got comfortable. The events of the day passed through his mind. He tried not to think about how good Drea looked in her dress, or how good she probably looked in his shirt and boxers. He tried not to think about how good she smelled, or the jealousy and rage he felt when he saw Kevin touching her and then yelling at her. Holding her for who knows how long in that courtyard, in any other instance, would have made him uncomfortable. But it quelled his rage, and woke something else in him. What it awoke were feelings that were too deep to be merely platonic. But he wouldn’t think about that.

Upstairs Drea had decided to take a shower. She was surprised to find a basic but thorough skincare regimen, decent shampoo and conditioner, and neutral smelling shower gels in his bathroom. Remnants he probably picked up from his last two serious relationships. She silently thanked god that she wasn’t forced to use a 3-in-1 after a day like today.

Soon she was tucked up in bed, her hair wrapped in a towel and clad in the clothes Jared gave her. The bed smelled of him and so did the clothes. A smell she now associated with his strong arms around her as she broke down. Jared went above and beyond with helping her tonight and she felt her heart ache a little. Kevin’s words were still ringing in her ears. What would Jared think once she told him the truth of what had happened to her?

Her phone chimed from the bedside table. Jared had texted her.

*You’re amazing, Drea. Ignore what Kevin said. I will always think you’re amazing and funny and stubborn as hell. Nothing anyone could say would make me feel any different.*

Drea hugged her phone to her chest and let a few tears slip out before her phone chimed again.

*No more crying or you’ll look like a steamed bun in the morning.*

She couldn’t help but laugh a little at that. Jared was here and he liked how she was right now. The past was the past. Finally she snuggled into Jared’s bed and went to sleep.

[cagestark]

Introduction to Ink//2

Part One | Part Two | Part Three | Chapter Four

About this: nff, fem!Tony. College AU. Discussion of past kidnapping. 

-

There’s the eight of them: himself, Nat, Steve, Clint, Thor, Wanda, Bruce, and Toni. Natasha has an incredible firepit, all expensive paving stones and matching brick inlaid into the foundation of the patio. Bucky drags his chair back an extra few feet until he can barely feel the warmth of the flames; he doesn’t care for fire.

Toni is seated across from him, her figure sometimes lost to the flames and shimmering smoke when someone stokes the fire or adds a new log. It’s a mercy and a crime to lose sight of her, her tanned skin glowing orange, the flickering flame enhancing the shadow of her cheekbones and jaw and the modest arch of her breasts. They’d barely be palmfuls to him, easy for him to cup and flick his thumbs over her nipples.

Fucking hell, he thinks, shifting in his seat. Thinking that kind of pornographic bullshit about a girl he’s barely spoken to is perverse at best. To distract himself from the sight of her and the growing tingle in his groin, he reaches for the pack of cigarettes beside his chair and lights one up.

Around the fire, conversation never ceases. Thor, evidence provided by his deep tan, has been on the west coast and brought home with him a collection of stories with each wilder than the last. The group gets a kick out of teasing Toni for her horrified reactions, the collective good-natured laughter of the group drawing his eyes back to her, reluctantly. She flushes each time, gritting her teeth and rolling her eyes.

“Come on, T, your turn to tell a story,” Nat goads, trying to draw the reclusive girl into the conversation. All eyes turn to her. Bucky catches her heavy gaze on him before she looks down at her lap where her hands are clenched tightly together. “You’ve told me some. Tell them about your Uncle Obie—”

“I’d rather not,” Toni mutters dryly.

“Oh, please? Please, please, please?” Natasha slips from her perch on Steve’s lap to kneel dramatically at Toni’s feet, her hands clasped together in beseechment. God, she’s so much fucking looser when she’s drunk. Less Macbethian rigidity and more Midsummer Night’s Dream-esque silliness. Murmurs rise up around the fire as the others chime in, hoping the chip away at the girl’s reserved exterior.

“Isn’t the point of a party to distract yourself from the mundane and unsavory aspects of your life?” Toni wonders, reaching out to pat at Natasha’s hair, red as the flames. (Clint boos, but at least this time Toni’s lips quirk upwards in a smirk. She’s learning to take pleasure in Clint’s disappointment. She’ll fit into their friend group fine, thinks Bucky fondly).

Nat leans up, pressed flush against Toni’s side. She cups a hand around Toni’s ear as if to give them privacy, only she’s cupping it the wrong way, directing the sound of her stage whisper towards the rest of the group when she says: “Isn’t Bucky distracting you enough?”

Bucky drops his cigarette, flinching to wipe it away from where it lands on his jeans before it can burn a hole through them. The circle grows quiet, the sound of the fire as it crackles nearly deafening in the awkward silence. Toni’s gaze flicker to Bucky—an instinct thanks to Natasha saying his name—and those dark eyes grow wide like moons, her entire face flushing with a cocktail of embarrassment and anger. Nat gapes, suddenly aware of her faux pass, but she has no time to remedy it before Toni is standing.

“I’m going to go—get a drink,” she mutters, turning away and disappearing inside the house.

“Damn it,” Nat sighs. Steve reaches out to coax her back into his lap.

“Great one,” Bucky snaps. He reaches down to pick up his cigarette from the patio, tucking it back into his mouth. No use wasting it. “Really. Can we all give Natasha a round of applause, please?”

“Lay off, Buck,” Steve says with a frown. Even in the safe circlet of his arms, Natasha’s frown is heavy.

“I’m sorry, it just came out,” she says. “She’s been staring at you all day.”

“Toni and Bucky?” Sam says, eyebrows high. “I wouldn’t have seen that coming.”

“Not like that you dumbass. She can’t stop looking because she thinks I’m a circus freak,” says Bucky. “And you embarrassed the both of us. Anybody else says another word about it and I’m out of here.”

“Hey,” Clint says fondly, leaning out to lay one of his broad palms on Bucky’s shoulder. With exaggerated coolheadedness, he suggests: “Chill the fuck out.”

While the two of them begin to trade biting comments much to the amused delight of the rest of the circle, Steve presses a comforting kiss to Natasha’s temple and murmurs in her ear, “How much have you had to drink tonight?”

Natasha turns her head into the side of his neck to hide from the rest of their friends, lets her quirking lips brush against Steve’s skin as she murmurs, “ Nothing .”

The patio door opens. Toni appears, cheeks still a little red, with a beer in her hand. Brave little thing, Bucky thinks to himself watching as she returns to her seat and smoothly uses the metal arm of the patio chair to pop the cap off like some kind of expert. She takes a long sip, resolutely looking into the fire as if she can sense everyone’s eyes on her.

“So,” she says at last. “My Uncle had me kidnapped.”

A long moment of silence.

Then, from Clint: “What the fuck . While you were in the kitchen?”

-

The group’s drunkenness makes them the perfect audience. There are gasps and exclamations and No fucking way’s! as Toni relays a story that’s dramatic and horrifying and apparently entirely true: how a group of hired men had killed one of Toni’s bodyguards and carried the girl off; how her own father hadn’t been willing to pay the ransom; how she had escaped thanks to her own inventiveness only to be picked up by her Uncle Obie, who instead of driving them home, had driven deeper into nowhere. She’d put the puzzle pieces together and thrown herself from the moving car and spent 8 hours walking through the woods before she’d found civilization and returned home. Apparently Uncle Obie is serving a life sentence in Attica.

“That’s trauma. That’s like, first-class trauma. That’s not carry-on, either. You need to have that trauma luggage checked,” Clint rambles, though everybody is making noises of agreement. “Wait, I’m not the authority on childhood trauma. Wanda?”

“Trauma,” she decides concisely. Her face hasn’t yet returned to its normal color, not since Howard refused to pay the ten-million-dollar ransom.

“Hey,” Toni says, grinning. The bottle she’d brought out from the kitchen is empty now, and since it’s completion, she’s been noticeably looser. Light weight, Bucky thinks, the corners of his lips quirking up around his latest cigarette. “I warned you! Honestly, though, it wasn’t that bad. Not my worst kidnapping by far.”

“Please, no more,” says Wanda.

“No more,” Toni agrees. The two girls’ chairs are close enough that Toni can lean and rest her head on Wanda’s shoulder, the most outgoing and affectionate she’s been all night. Bucky isn’t going to be fucking jealous of Wanda’s bony shoulder.

“Should we break out some glow sticks and play more pong?” Natasha suggests. “I’m losing my buzz.”

Steve makes a face from behind her, probably not eager to see his girlfriend slip back into the verbacious phase of drunkenness, but everyone else promptly agrees, standing to vacate their chairs.

“Dibs on Bucky as my partner!” Clint shouts.

“I’m sitting out,” Bucky says. Everyone boos. “I’ll play the winner, okay?” Everyone cheers.

Natasha’s property is huge, so Bucky lets himself skirt along the edge of the woods, staying within the glow of the fairy lights but walking far enough away that he loses sight of his friends and can only hear their shouts and laughter carried on the wind. It’s become cool enough that he shrugs his jacket back on, his black on black ensemble probably helping him blend into the darkness whenever he steps into the treeline.

Ever since Becca died and Bucky moved upstate to be with his ma, Bucky has been prone to episodes of melancholy. He used to be a party animal when he’d first met Steve and Nat; they’d become thick as thieves partying together and watching out for each other. Now he can’t make it through a party without feeling the urge to wander off and away, to detach himself physically the way he so often feels emotionally. Finding a sturdy tree, he lets himself rest against it, head pressed against the rough bark, eyes closed (though he can see the glow of the lights through his eyelids).

“Oh shit—” There comes the violent cracking of sticks and the sound of a body tumbling. Heart pounding from the sudden shout, it only takes a few steps for him to find Toni on the ground, her skirt in a pool around her slim body, dark hair wreathed in gold from the lights above them. She looks up at him, flushed. “I hate nature. Really. And I’m pretty sure that the feeling is mutual.”

“Are you okay?” Bucky rasps, reaching one of his hands down even though his heart is in his throat. She hesitates at the sight of it before reaching out and tucking her smaller hand into his own and letting him gently pull her up from the ground. “You didn’t twist somethin’ did you?”

“Just my pride. Wait, you said twisted not destroyed.”

“Happens to the best of us. And to Clint, too.”

“Clint more often than others?” she asks. This close, the size difference between them is enough to go to his head and to his gut: she must barely be past five feet tall, slim and willowy and nothing like the girls he usually dates. Then again, he’s probably the last kind of guy she’d ever date. Still, she’s fucking pretty: those dark, big eyes with pinpoints of light in the pupils since she’s got her head tilted up to look at him, her mouth full and wide, chin pointed.

Bucky clears his throat, already having forgotten her question. “What are you doin’ out here?”

Toni sets her jaw. “I came to find you.”

“Oh?”

“Yes, I—wanted to apologize.”

Bucky blinks. “What for?”

She waves a hand back towards the distant sound of their friends. “For today. I didn’t treat you very, very, god, what’s the word. Does being drunk always feel like this, feel like my brain is scrambled eggs? Anyway, I came off like a real bitch.”

“Nah,” says Bucky, even if it’s a little true. He raises his chin, puts the honeycomb on his neck on display just to watch her eyes be drawn to it, her mouth parting a little. “I’m used to it, kid. Lookin’ the way I do. I understand.”

“That’s not right, though,” Toni is quick to supply. She still has her eyes on his throat. “It’s your body. Obviously. Also I'm not a kid, I'm twenty-two with a doctorate in engineering. I just, I’ve only ever seen one tattoo before. Excluding TV. It was like, this big? Maybe a little smaller. Of a peony, I think, maybe paeonia lactiflora , something in the paeonia family, anyway. I’ve just never seen anyone who looked like you before.”

Bucky doesn’t wince, but it’s a close call. “I get it.”

“You look so—” Bucky prepares himself for some kind of noun or adjective that he’ll have to swallow down like the most bitter medicine, grit his teeth and accept. Based on her expression, she’s still struggling to find the words she wants, her expression open and almost-awed in a way that makes him feel like he’s standing on the ridge of a tree root liable to fall over any moment. “You look like art.”

Whatever Bucky was expecting—it wasn’t that. She means it, too. He can tell. The shell she’s fortified around herself all night has cracked, and inside he can see the embryonic hints of a girl very young (though not nearly as young as he had thought, thank god), whose life until recently has been forcefully closed off and punctuated with moments of real terror. She isn’t horrified. She’s awed. She’s intrigued. She’s curious.

On a whim, Bucky shrugs off his jacket. It’s intoxicating to see her expression change: the eyes widen, the mouth parts, all at the sight of him alone. It’s a heady power that he isn’t used to feeling. But does the power belong to him, or is it simply washing over him? Maybe this slip of a girl is really the one with the power, power that he feels helpless to bend to.

Holding out a hand, he feels something like a princess offering his knuckles for her to kiss. She reaches out on instinct, stopping just shy of his skin to look up in question. The area beneath her slim fingers buzzes like the air before a lightning strike. He nods, willing to be struck.

Fingers with calloused tips brush from his first knuckle down over the letter (H, HATE across his left proximal digits and LOVE across the right ones). He holds his breath, begging his hand not to tremble at her touch as she trails her burning fingers up over the hill of his knuckle and down into the valley where the skin is thin and sensitive.

“I can’t even feel it,” Toni mutters. “Which, I mean, I knew. The ink penetrates all the way down to the dermis to avoid the keratinization process, but it’s just—I thought I would feel it.”

More breathless than he’d like to be: “Not sure what all that means. Sometimes you can feel them, though. When they don’t heal right.”

She looks up at him with wide, glittering eyes. “Is that so?”

Bucky nods. She hums, turning her eyes back to his hand where she runs her fingers over the ivy along the back, mussing the soft thin hairs that grow there. His throat clicks when he swallows, but he doesn’t think she can hear it, not over the screech of the evening insects and not through the trance she seems to be in, turning his hand this way and that way, coaxing it into supination so she can follow the trail of leaves.

She drags the tip of her fingernail gently down the center of his palm and he can’t help but shudder. There’s a dangerous heat blooming in his gut and several inches lower the tell tale feeling of blood rushing south. Thank God his jeans are tight enough to pin his cock close to his body.

“Why nothing here?” she asks, tapping the center of his palm just over his head line.

“They don’t take as well.”

“Thicker skin,” says Toni. “Epithelium on the palms and soles can be three times thicker than your average layer epithelial tissue. That must make it difficult to get to the dermis.”

“You learn that at school?”

“No; I’m at NYU for physics. But I read a lot.” She moves on from his palm, tracing the ivy down his forearm. The skin is so sensitive that he can’t hide the goosebumps that bloom or the way his body shivers. She doesn’t remark on it, but her eyes do flicker up to gauge his expression. Fuck, she must see right through him. He’s got no idea what he looks like, but if it’s anything like how he feels (and his ma always did say that he was an open book), then she knows everything in a single glance. How infatuated he is. How attracted he is.

She shivers. He reaches down to pick up his jacket and offers it to her, the both of them laughing when she slips it on and has to push the sleeves up. It shouldn’t feel so good to see her in his clothes, but it does. Jesus, it does.

With firmness, she guides his arm outward away from his side so that she can see the entire upper portion of the sleeve, the portrait of Strazza’s the Veiled Virgin. The way she moves him, twists him this way and that way has his cock aching. I’d take orders from her all day long , he thinks to himself, wishing he could reach down and adjust himself without drawing attention to his aching hard on. All night, too.

On his right arm, she repeats many of the same gestures, tracing the hills and valleys of his knuckles, examining his pale, unmarked palms, tracing the veins up his forearms, pausing to scratch gently at one of the dotted geometric shapes on his bicep. It’s torture to stand there and feel her touch on him, her eager, intoxicated eyes eating up his skin. You look like art, she had said. Under her hands, he feels like it.

When she runs into the sleeve of his t-shirt, she coaxes it back, trying to follow the trail of a chain. She makes a soft, unhappy sound when she can’t expose any more skin. It makes him swallow on reflex, bicep tightening under her hand as a thought comes to him. He opens his mouth to offer but shuts it again quickly.

“What?” she asks, looking up at the motion in the corner of her eye.

“Nothing.”

“Wh-at?”

“I was just—I’ll take it off for you. If you want to keep looking.”

Her eyes get heavy-lidded, roaming over his face as she searches for something. Somehow, she looks even drunker than she did moments ago when he first found her sprawled out on the ground. Not that he blames her; he hasn’t had a drink since the bonfire began, but he still feels drunk enough without it. Then he realizes why: she isn't drunk, she's turned on. The way she's shifting and can't stand still, thighs pressing together tight. This is turning her on, and that thought is nearly enough to bring him to his knees.

“Okay,” she says. She pokes his shoulder, her aim affected. “I want to see where this one ends.”

Bucky steps back to give himself the room needed to take off his shirt, though Toni seems to sway towards him. Like he’s got a gravitational pull, like she’s fallen too deep into his atmosphere to pull away now. With a shaking breath, he reaches for the neck of the shirt and tugs it off over his head, losing sight of her for just a moment.

She takes him in. His chest isn’t as saturated as his arms are. The honeycomb runs down to his collar bones before the lines begin to break down, reassemble into sheet music. Strict black and white linework that uses his own pale skin as the paper of the page. The chain that led up over his shoulder curves around his back to knot itself around the middle of his backpiece. From the base of his sternum down to the V of his hips, he is bare. Planning something big, he thinks, though he only has half-formed ideas.

Through each of his pale pink nipples are barbells.

“Good God,” Toni mutters under her breath. She places a burning palm on one of his bare shoulders so that she can lean in and remark, “Why would you do that? Didn’t that hurt?”

She’s so close that he can feel her breath fan across his chest. God, to reach out and tangle his fingers in her dark hair and draw her mouth those last six inches, to feel the soft rasp of her tongue over his sensitive nipples. He nearly groans at the thought. His nipples tighten under the attention of her gaze, aching in the best way.

“It all hurt,” Bucky rasps. The bite of the piercing needles, the sting of the tattoo gun—all of it had given him a sense of euphoria. A sense of pride in his body the likes of which he hadn’t had when he was young and insecure. “I guess I liked it anyway.”

She draws her fingers over the lines of his clavicles before turning her hand over so that the soft backs of her fingers trail down one defined pec. Maybe she tries to avoid it, her spatial reasoning fucked thanks to the beers she's had, but her pinky drags over his nipple. He does groan this time, the brief spike of pleasure going straight to his aching cock. One of his own hands drops, almost grabs his erection on instinct before he wills it away, reaching out to grip at a nearby low treebranch.

Toni pulls back like she’s been burned. “Sorry,” she says. “Did that hurt?”

Bucky clears his throat but doesn’t trust his voice. Instead, he shakes his head in the negative. She resumes her teasing touches, asking him to turn this way and that way, giving a delighted laugh at the spinal column tattooed from the nape of his neck down. Anatomically correct, she says. Though some of the cervical vertebrae are missing.

Every word she says goes straight to his cock whether it's about intervertebral disc space or whatever else. With his back to her and her attention on the tattoos there, he lets his hand drop as covertly as possible, rubbing without mercy at his confined cock, desperately willing the thing away. The rough touch nearly brings him to the brink, he’s that fucking close, innervated by every drag of her fingers, every press of her palm, every scratch of her curious fingernails. His head falls back, eyes shut tight against the lights above them, wondering if he can hide cumming in his pants long enough to get back to the house, say goodbye, and scram.

He pulls his hand back just as he feels the firm pressure of her turning him to face her, but this time there is no avoiding it. Her eyes have fallen naturally to the lines of ink peeking just over the waistband of his jeans. But centered in between and six inches lower is a bulge that can’t be disguised as anything but what it is. Bucky winces, reaching up to drag one palm against his forehead. This is probably the most embarrassing thing that has ever happened to him, and Jesus, when Toni tells Nat about how Bucky coaxed her to feel him up and then popped a stiffie over it, the redhead will kill him.

When Toni speaks, her voice is an octave lower, letting one thumb brush against the flash of ink on his right hip. “Should—I mean...should you take your pants off?”

Bucky blinks. That was the last thing he expected to hear come from her mouth. “I...don’t think that’s a good idea.”

Toni’s face crumples a little. “Right. Sorry. I misread things. My therapist says I struggle with social cues.”

“Hey, that ain’t it,” says Bucky. He doesn’t like that look on her face, that burned, insecure expression. He’ll wipe the expression right off of her even if it means he embarrasses himself further. “It’s just been a long time since—Jesus, Buck, don’t say that. I mean that I’m not really known for my self control, and I don’t want you to do anything you’ll regret.”

“I can’t fathom a world right now where I’d regret you taking your pants off.”

“You can’t fathom it right now. But what about later when you sober up, huh?”

Toni rolls her eyes and crosses her arms over her thin chest, the picture of childish petulance. “Oh come on. I’m not that drunk. Look, I’m an adult and you’re an adult. I’d really like to—to touch you, and correct me if I'm wrong but you seem like you’re receptive.”

Bucky’s cock supports the idea, twitching towards her. Fucking traitor. He steps back to put distance between them, to stop breathing her in and feeling the heat of her and to maybe clear his fucking head. It’s no wonder if he doesn’t have the oxygen to use his brain when all the blood has gone right to his dick.

“Toni,” he rasps lowly. “Come on, honey. Don’t do me like this. I’m trying to be good here.”

“I like the way you say my name,” she says, taking a step forward to make up for the distance he tries to put between them. Her face is a helpless mix between arousal and innocence: eyes heavy and pupils huge, cheeks flushed, mouth parted. She can’t have any idea what she’s doing to him, what she’s been doing to him since he saw her head ducked over a textbook in the middle of a raging party.

His back hits a tree, the rough bark scratching at his bare skin. He lets his head fall back, working to keep his breathing stable. “Toni. You should go back to the house.”

She pursues him with a single-minded intensity. He feels frozen under her eyes, just one of Medusa’s admirers helpless to look away. She’s so short that when she presses herself flush against him, his cock is nestled against her belly. The pressure makes his head spin even as he presses his hips backward, pinning himself to the tree to keep from grinding against the firmness of her body.

“I don’t have any practice,” she says, placing a palm against his sternum and dragging it down, down, down until it cups his clothed cock, hand looking downright dainty against him. He sees stars behind his eyes, cock jerking beneath her grip even though she is being far too gentle. “But I’m well versed in the theory, and I think you’ll find I’m a quick learner.”

If she thought that would seduce him, she is both right and wrong. A tiny primitive part of his brain revels in confirmation of what he already expected—if she’d barely seen tattoos in person, of course she didn’t have any sexual experience. He would be the first, the one to stain her like ink across her skin. His cock would touch places inside of her that hadn’t ever been touched. There is a darkness in him that would revel in splitting her open, in being the first to make her cum with his fingers and mouth and cock.

But there’s no fucking way he’d ever even voice those thoughts, much less give into them. What kind of a person is he to be aroused by the thought of taking her virginity, of taking advantage of her drunken state and lack of experience?

His fingers wrap all the way around her wrist when he pulls her away. With firmness, bending down so that they are nearly nose to nose, he says: “ No . I’m not that kind of guy. You want me so bad? Come find me when you’re sober.”

Toni staggers away from him, nearly upending herself. Her face is pale, and she looks a little like she’s going to be sick. “Right. You’re right. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—I know what no means.”

“I know you do,” Bucky says softly. He lets his hand fall, fingertips brushing against the pale skin above his waistband, above his aching cock. Her eyes track the movement, throat bobbing while she swallows. Fuck, that hungry look on her face is almost too much. She’s hungry for it even if she’s never had it, even if she hardly knows what she wants. “You couldn’t take advantage of me if you tried. Trust me. I just—I ain’t gonna take advantage of you neither.”

Her eyes roll. “My hero. Thanks. Can’t believe I’m going back to the party with sticky panties. That’s really uncomfortable, you know.”

Bucky groans. “Don’t tell me nothing about your panties.”

“At least we’re both suffering,” she says with a vindictive smile. She jerks a thumb towards the sound of their friends’ voices just as a cheer rises up, echoed by the angry shouts of someone losing and demanding a rematch. “Are you coming? We can walk back together.”

Shifting, Bucky reaches down and adjusts himself. “I’ll be there as soon as I can walk.”

He watches as she walks away, her hair and dark skirt blending into the darkness until he loses sight of her completely. Bucky lets out a long breath. Is he the stupidest man in the world or the strongest? Maybe both. Turning her down had taken everything in him, and a part of him knew that come morning when she sobered up she would probably avoid his presence, avert her eyes from his gaze, embarrassed of how she had come on to him. To someone like him.

But just then? She had wanted him. Wanted to touch him. Touching him had made her wet. The thought has him groaning. In solitude, he can let one hand drop without guilt to grope as his aching erection. There’s no chance that it will go away on its own, not when his every waking thought is her. There’s only one way to be able to return to the party with some semblance of normality.

Bucky unfastens his belt and then the button of his jeans. He slides the zipper down and his cock bulges free, still covered in his dark boxer-briefs. The head of him has wet the fabric, steady precum leaking from the tip and he presses his thumb against it until the pleasure threatens to slip into pain, his balls throbbing with a load the likes of which will probably set a new personal record for him.

Reaching past the waistband, he draws his cock free. The first touch of the cooling night air has him letting out a noise from low in his throat. Widening his stance as best as he can with his jeans still on, he lets one hand drop down to cup his balls. They’re firm, ready to draw up at a moment’s notice. His fingers wrap around the shaft giving one long, tight stroke. He usually likes lube, but as much as he’s leaking, he can make do without it.

“ Fuck ,” he mutters, eyes rolling in relief.

That’s the moment when Toni comes barreling through the trees again, freezing at the sight of him half-naked with his cock in hand.

[nahimjustfeelingit-writes]

Imagine:

Erik sending the Reader vids of him beating his dick and he nuts on the screen

Warnings: SMUT

Okay so the last one was appealed llab. It’s the gif I posted with it which was perfect and tumblr wants to fuck shit up. ANYWAYYSSSSSS enjoy this nasty smutty love that my beautiful friend @goddessofthundathighs wrote up and let me tell you it’s good 😩😩😩😩😩💦

Like, Comment, Reblog 💖

New Moon. Your favorite time of the month because it allowed you to cleanse yourself old old energy and set new goals and manifestations for the weeks to come. This particular new moon fell on your favorite day of the week: Self-Care Sunday. You had already spent the day pampering and treating yourself with a fresh mani/pedi and new weave, now it was time for your spiritual bath. Since you and Erik had just called it quits, you decided to focus on love. You started by saging your bathroom, making sure to focus on the corners and around the doorway. Next, you added 6 drops of jasmine oil and honey to the water; 6 being the number of love. You then added your rose bath salts and rose quartz stones to the bath. You finally lit your jasmine incense and submerged yourself in the water.

On all night // quarter five //

I’d be insane if I let you hit // I need you

Should be here // For my regretful morning

The sweet scent of the Strawberry Pound Cake candle you recently purchased from Bath & Body Works invaded your nostrils along with the jasmine as your body sank down into your bath. You closed your eyes and began visualizing yourself in a loving relationship while placing the rose quartz over your heart. You had your Me & Somebody’s Son playlist on full blast and were currently being serenaded by Ari Lennox when your phone buzzed against the toilet.

“You up?”

You stared at the words that accompanied the lewd video before rolling your eyes in annoyance. Of course Satan Incarnate would text you some shit like this while you were trying to relax. Jackass.

Though you were no longer an item, he knew how much watching him jerk off turned you on. You loved the way his face scrunched up in pleasure, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth sent a chill straight to your core. Damn him! You had half a mind to ignore the message and roll back over until those 3 dots appeared again.

“If you gone ignore a nigga, at least turn ya read receipts off, y/n.”

“Nigga fuck you!” Your fingers fired back before they found their way between your legs.

Up late, again // Head on my chest, hand on my ass //

Up late, again // Back it up on you, breathing fast //

Oh, up late again, yeah // Tell me how it is when back it up there // It up there (mmh)

“That’s what I want you to do,” he responds with the grinning devil emoji followed by another video. You hesitantly clicked play, only to find him stroking himself faster and now moaning your name.

“This dick misses you, y/n. Daddy misses the way them walls hug mah shit when you ridin’ and the way that fat ass bounce up and down.”

You were really turned on, now. He was completely naked except the thick Cuban link choker around his neck and the gold pinky rings you got him last Christmas. He had been back home so his accent was heavy on his words. It made your pussy throb. His tongue passed over his bottom grill as his hand squeezed his thick shaft. Your mouth watered as you watched the beads of pre-cum ooze from his tip. That was the last straw before you stood from the bath and took a seat on the side of the tub. You grabbed the shower head, turning it to the massage setting before placing it between your legs. You mewled as the water pulsed against your already throbbing clit and were just finding your groove before your phone buzzed again. Another message accompanied by another video.

“You playin’ wit mah pussy, y/n? You know you can’t do dat without Daddy’s permission.”

“You ain’t my Daddy no more..”

“I’m always Daddy, you just stubborn.”

Erik was always unnecessarily arrogant. You loved and hated that about him. He was one of those niggas that knew he was fine and had no problems flaunting his good looks. It was the one thing you two argued about the most. You hated the way women fawned over him and how he ate up the attention. He always dismissed your claims, accusing you of being insecure. He was a certified asshole, but he was yours and you missed him.

Make your easy to North Hollywood // Target lingerie //

Kissing your lips // Dipped in Backwood tips

I been crushing on you // We can fake watch the news, if you like

You watched the videos on a constant loop, allowing the shower head to bring you closer and closer to your peak. You were almost there when another message came through.

“Come see me..”

You stopped. Although you wanted him to break your back like a glow stick, you knew how things would eventually end. You and Erik were a never ending cycle of toxicity and although the dick was bomb, you didn’t want to bring that into this next phase of your life. You placed the shower head back in it’s holster before stepping out of the shower. Your inner freak was cursing your entire existence, but you knew you had made the right decision. You wrapped a towel around yourself before grabbing your homemade Shea Butter to moisturize your skin. He sent more videos, but you ignored them as you got ready for bed. You were about to power it off for the night when a final message caught your attention.

“This could’ve been you, but you playin’..” You clicked play on the video only to be met with ropes of his cum shooting towards your face. His moan was deep, animalistic almost as he finished himself off. He smirked devilishly at the screen, revealing his fronts before speaking again.

“Wanna lick it off? I know you want to, ma. I know that mouth is drooling right now. Damn, girl, you just love being stubborn when you could have been on your knees catching all my nut in that pretty little mouth. Got me cumming on my phone.” Erik thumbed some cum from his phone screen, rubbing it along the tip of his dick slowly. “You see that? That’s your mess to clean up. Keep playing with me if you want to. Watch how you come running to Daddy.”

You wanted to resist, but your inner freak couldn’t be sated by your fingers and vibrator alone. Erik had permanently ruined sex for you, his arrogance and nastiness were in a league of their own. He was the only man that had ever made you cum just from talking. You quickly slipped into your favorite Fashion Nova lingerie set and grabbed your keys from the nightstand. He FaceTimed you as you slid behind the wheel of your pearl white Porsche Panamera, the only one of its kind in the garage of your apartment building.

“Yes Daddy?” You answered sweetly.

“Thought I wasn’t Daddy no more,” he replied with a smug grin that made you roll your eyes.

“You want me to come through or nah? Cuz I can get back in my bed,” you snap.

“Get back in the bed, then, y/n. I ain’t the one that wanna cum right now.”

You shot a piercing glare to your phone screen, which made his grin even more smug.

“Yeeah, that lil pussy throbbin’ ain’t she? She wanna feel this thick ass tongue sliding up and down, fuckin’ that lil hole like I would wit my dick, don’t she? Yeah. You want Daddy’s face all in it, my beard soakin’ wet wit ya juices. Don’t be shy, you can tell Daddy what you want.”

You bit your lip, staring at the phone with pleading eyes as he spoke.

“You want this dick, pretty girl? Just say the word and I’ll be on my way. I know how much you miss ridin’ this dick in my G Wagon.”

You whimpered uncontrollably at the thought of the last time he fucked you in the back of his truck. He had your legs on his shoulders, digging out your pussy like he was searching for a buried treasure. Even when you came, his powerful thrusts didn’t stop.

“Spread dem legs fa me.”

Without hesitation you did as you were told, reclining your seat back so that he had an unobstructed view of your dripping wet center.

“You gone make dat pussy cum fa Daddy? You gone make a mess in ya front seat like I did in this chair?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned as you drove 3 of your fingers into your entrance. Under his commands you flicked and fucked yourself until you squirted all over your front seat and phone screen. You were so caught up in your pleasure that you didn’t realize he had left his place until you heard 3 raps on your window. You readjusted your clothes before rolling the window down, only to be met with his fat, throbbing dick.

“Give Daddy’s dick a kiss, pretty girl.”

@tgigoldie @soufcakmistress @chefjessypooh @chaneajoyyy @pananegra @theblulife @becincere @blaqwidow91 @fish-outta-watah @eyeknowmywrites @crowngold @njadakillthiscookie @blktinkerbell @luvanxi @sheisexcellent1 @chocolatedippedinhoney @brandithecrystalgem @dababydababydababydababy @soulfulbeauty19 @btitannaaa @sunkissedebony97 @youngblackndgifted @harleycativy @rbhp @thee-germanpeach @thadelightfulone @palmstreesallday @skylahb @bakaris-shorty @nizzle-mo @truglori @queenflaws @ljstraightnochaser @theegoldenchild @scrumptiouslytenaciouscrusade @nickidub718 @vikkidc @thehomierobbstark @rent-emspoons​ @abluesforlyssa @abeautifulmindexposed @fd-writes @chasingsunlight​ @sickaddiktions @munteanhore @xo-goldengirl @tiava143 @33kiara​ @honeytoffee @asiasblackworld727 @momobaby227 @informalmelancholy @soulshinechronicles @hearteyes-for-killmonger @goddessofthundathighs @soulfxll @whazzzupmyhitta

[goddessofthundathighs]

UP LATE

This was an imagine originally given to @nahimjustfeelingit-writes in which Erik sends the reader videos of him masturbating. She couldn’t figure out how to start it so I decided to try my hand at it, and thus, this filth was born. 😈😘

**

New Moon. Your favorite time of the month because it allowed you to cleanse yourself old old energy and set new goals and manifestations for the weeks to come. This particular new moon fell on your favorite day of the week: Self-Care Sunday. You had already spent the day pampering and treating yourself with a fresh mani/pedi and new weave, now it was time for your spiritual bath. Since you and Erik had just called it quits, you decided to focus on love. You started by saging your bathroom, making sure to focus on the corners and around the doorway. Next, you added 6 drops of jasmine oil and honey to the water; 6 being the number of love. You then added your rose bath salts and rose quartz stones to the bath. You finally lit your jasmine incense and submerged yourself in the water.

On all night // quarter five //

I’d be insane if I let you hit // I need you

Should be here // For my regretful morning

The sweet scent of the Strawberry Pound Cake candle you recently purchased from Bath & Body Works invaded your nostrils along with the jasmine as your body sank down into your bath. You closed your eyes and began visualizing yourself in a loving relationship while placing the rose quartz over your heart. You had your Me & Somebody’s Son playlist on full blast and were currently being serenaded by Ari Lennox when your phone buzzed against the toilet.

“You up?”

You stared at the words that accompanied the lewd video before rolling your eyes in annoyance. Of course Satan Incarnate would text you some shit like this while you were trying to relax. Jackass.

Though you were no longer an item, he knew how much watching him jerk off turned you on. You loved the way his face scrunched up in pleasure, his bottom lip wedged between his teeth sent a chill straight to your core. Damn him! You had half a mind to ignore the message and roll back over until those 3 dots appeared again.

“If you gone ignore a nigga, at least turn ya read receipts off, y/n.”

“Nigga fuck you!” Your fingers fired back before they found their way between your legs.

Up late, again // Head on my chest, hand on my ass //

Up late, again // Back it up on you, breathing fast //

Oh, up late again, yeah // Tell me how it is when back it up there // It up there (mmh)

“That’s what I want you to do,” he responds with the grinning devil emoji followed by another video. You hesitantly clicked play, only to find him stroking himself faster and now moaning your name.

“This dick misses you, y/n. Daddy misses the way them walls hug mah shit when you ridin’ and the way that fat ass bounce up and down.”

You were really turned on, now. He was completely naked except the thick Cuban link choker around his neck and the gold pinky rings you got him last Christmas. He had been back home so his accent was heavy on his words. It made your pussy throb. His tongue passed over his bottom grill as his hand squeezed his thick shaft. Your mouth watered as you watched the beads of pre-cum ooze from his tip. That was the last straw before you stood from the bath and took a seat on the side of the tub. You grabbed the shower head, turning it to the massage setting before placing it between your legs. You mewled as the water pulsed against your already throbbing clit and were just finding your groove before your phone buzzed again. Another message accompanied by another video.

“You playin’ wit mah pussy, y/n? You know you can’t do dat without Daddy’s permission.”

“You ain’t my Daddy no more..”

“I’m always Daddy, you just stubborn.”

Erik was always unnecessarily arrogant. You loved and hated that about him. He was one of those niggas that knew he was fine and had no problems flaunting his good looks. It was the one thing you two argued about the most. You hated the way women fawned over him and how he ate up the attention. He always dismissed your claims, accusing you of being insecure. He was a certified asshole, but he was yours and you missed him.

Make your easy to North Hollywood // Target lingerie //

Kissing your lips // Dipped in Backwood tips

I been crushing on you // We can fake watch the news, if you like

You watched the videos on a constant loop, allowing the shower head to bring you closer and closer to your peak. You were almost there when another message came through.

“Come see me..”

You stopped. Although you wanted him to break your back like a glow stick, you knew how things would eventually end. You and Erik were a never ending cycle of toxicity and although the dick was bomb, you didn’t want to bring that into this next phase of your life. You placed the shower head back in it’s holster before stepping out of the shower. Your inner freak was cursing your entire existence, but you knew you had made the right decision. You wrapped a towel around yourself before grabbing your homemade Shea Butter to moisturize your skin. He sent more videos, but you ignored them as you got ready for bed. You were about to power it off for the night when a final message caught your attention.

“This could’ve been you, but you playin’..”

You clicked play on the video only to be met with ropes of his cum shooting towards your face. His moan was deep, animalistic almost as he finished himself off. He smirked devilishly at the screen, revealing his fronts before speaking again.

“Wanna lick it off? I know you want to, ma. I know that mouth is drooling right now. Damn, girl, you just love being stubborn when you could have been on your knees catching all my nut in that pretty little mouth. Got me cumming on my phone.”

Erik thumbed some cum from his phone screen, rubbing it along the tip of his dick slowly.

“You see that? That’s your mess to clean up. Keep playing with me if you want to. Watch how you come running to Daddy.”

You wanted to resist, but your inner freak couldn’t be sated by your fingers and vibrator alone. Erik had permanently ruined sex for you, his arrogance and nastiness were in a league of their own. He was the only man that had ever made you cum just from talking. You quickly slipped into your favorite Fashion Nova lingerie set and grabbed your keys from the nightstand. He FaceTimed you as you slid behind the wheel of your pearl white Porsche Panamera, the only one of its kind in the garage of your apartment building.

“Yes Daddy?” You answered sweetly.

“Thought I wasn’t Daddy no more,” he replied with a smug grin that made you roll your eyes.

“You want me to come through or nah? Cuz I can get back in my bed,” you snap.

“Get back in the bed, then, y/n. I ain’t the one that wanna cum right now.”

You shot a piercing glare to your phone screen, which made his grin even more smug.

“Yeeah, that lil pussy throbbin’ ain’t she? She wanna feel this thick ass tongue sliding up and down, fuckin’ that lil hole like I would wit my dick, don’t she? Yeah. You want Daddy’s face all in it, my beard soakin’ wet wit ya juices. Don’t be shy, you can tell Daddy what you want.”

You bit your lip, staring at the phone with pleading eyes as he spoke.

“You want this dick, pretty girl? Just say the word and I’ll be on my way. I know how much you miss ridin’ this dick in my G Wagon.”

You whimpered uncontrollably at the thought of the last time he fucked you in the back of his truck. He had your legs on his shoulders, digging out your pussy like he was searching for a buried treasure. Even when you came, his powerful thrusts didn’t stop.

“Spread dem legs fa me.”

Without hesitation you did as you were told, reclining your seat back so that he had an unobstructed view of your dripping wet center.

“You gone make dat pussy cum fa Daddy? You gone make a mess in ya front seat like I did in this chair?”

“Yes, Daddy,” you moaned as you drove 3 of your fingers into your entrance. Under his commands you flicked and fucked yourself until you squirted all over your front seat and phone screen. You were so caught up in your pleasure that you didn’t realize he had left his place until you heard 3 raps on your window. You readjusted your clothes before rolling the window down, only to be met with his fat, throbbing dick.

“Give Daddy’s dick a kiss, pretty girl.”

[hardsquare]

Every wave of the storm

In the beginning, Steve had no one — the world around him was his own, quiet, barbaric nightmare. And then, Steve had Bucky. And things started to change; Steve learned to blossom.

wc ~ 3k.

[READ ON AO3]

4th July 2019 - 2:33 am

Steve is not good with sleeping. He doesn't really know what time it is exactly, but he knows that the night is pitch black and that the moon is high in the sky. He knows that, because he never closes his curtains. Not completely, at least. Not that Steve is afraid of the dark, not anymore. He just loves to stare at the empty nothing during his sleepless nights. And he’s okay with that, really. He made peace with his incapability to have a healthy sleep schedule a long time ago.

When he can’t sleep, like tonight - and a lot of other nights, let’s be honest -, he takes time to analyze everything that’s around him. The bed, the soft comforter around him, the paintings  - his paintings- on the walls. The bottle of water on his nightstand, the record player on the corner of the room with the Led Zeppelin vinyl still on it - he can’t help himself, he physically has to listen to ‘ I can’t quit you baby’ at least 4 times a day or he’s not in his right state of mind.

Anyway, the room is still the same in the middle of the night than it is at 3pm, or even 9pm for that matter. There is still something  different about the darkness of his apartment. The shapes on the wall in front of the bed, more like shadows actually. Steve used to be so afraid of them. Especially at night, just like this. Now he just embraces it. He tells himself entire stories about the strange silhouettes in the obscurity, as if it’s now his own little garden of Eden.

While observing this weird dance in front of him, Steve allows himself to drift into his memories, when he was still afraid of the dark.

4th July, 2002

It’s a sunny and beautiful day, and most of all: it’s Steve’s 8th birthday. He’s just finished eating his lunch with his mother; she made a chocolate cake for him and Steve just feels happy, because he knows his mom doesn’t have much money for this. Yet, every year she never fails to cook a homemade chocolate birthday cake. Steve loves his mom so much.

“Don’t forget to make a wish, honey,” Sarah says, just after humming the happy birthday song to his son. Steve closes his eyes, and thinks about what he could wish for. Maybe more money so his Ma could be home with him more? Maybe a shiny new bike? What about a healthy year, for a change? He squints his eyes even more and wishes, he wishes so hard that this year, maybe, he won’t feel as lonely as the previous ones. With that thought in mind, he blows his eight candles in one go.

When Steve arrives at the playground, his fingers are wrapped tight around the cake’s leftovers he brought with him. He originally wanted to share it with the kids here. They are children from his apartment building and they are all about his age.  His mom always asks why he’s not hanging out more with them, and he never wants to say that he tried , they just don’t want him . But Steve thinks maybe today is the day. So he walks, confident, and introduces himself again. “Hey guys, it’s my birthday today! Do y’all want some cake? It’s chocolate !”

There’s a big blank as the kids just turn over to Steve and look at him from head to toes, like he’s some kind of alien or such. Steve can actually see them laugh at him, talking among themselves and pointing fingers. But all Steve can hear is a mess of confusion. “Hah, guys, Rogers is at it again with his stupid cake, like we’re gonna want to hang out with you, you stupid freak.”

And they all laugh, again. Steve turns around, holding his tears, dropping the cake on the ground. He runs back to his house and goes straight to his bedroom to unload the tears. Steve has always been an unhealthy child, as you could say. He has asthma, arrhythmia, and weak muscles. He always has clutches or a cast on any of his limbs.

And he can’t hear. Not well at least. And Steve can’t remember a time when he was able to listen, really listen , to a conversation between him and more than two people at once.

People never try to help him with that. Not the other kids, not the doctors, not even the teachers. Beside his mom, he has always been alone. He knew from the beginning he needed to be fixed, he just didn’t know how . Sarah has the decency to give him some time before she’s knocking softly at his door.

“Honey, baby. What’s wrong ?”

She helps herself in the little boy’s bedroom and sits carefully on the edge of the bed.

“They all think I’m a freak” Steve sniffs, his face still in his pillow, holding his eeyore’s plushie close to his heart. Sarah looks at her son, putting her hand on the nape of his neck. After a little while, he turns around to watch her.

“And why would they think that?” “I don’t know, maybe I am.”

Steve is still crying, but the touch of her mom and her simple presence makes him feel a little bit better. “Honey, you can tell me what happened. I’m not going to be mad at you, I promise.”

Steve knows her mom is telling the truth, she always does. He sits himself on the bed, not looking at his mom’s eyes, ashamed.

“I could not hear them, mom. I can never really hear them. It’s wrong, everything is wrong with me.” He can feel the sad sigh his mother makes.

“Baby, I need you to listen to me very carefully. There’s nothing wrong with you. You’re absolutely perfect the way you are. Those children don’t know how special you are, and the fact that you can’t really hear the right way does not mean you’re broken. I wish that someday you’ll be able to understand that.”

And with those words, she’s taking her son into her arms and holding him tightly against her chest.

Deep down, Steve might know his Ma is right. That he should not care about what some random stupid kids think of him.

But it still hurts. And in his little boy’s heart, he can’t stop thinking about how shattered he is.

28th August, 2005

Steve has always loved summer. He can’t really get sick, and he can spend hours under the sun drawing everything he sees around him.

He’s eleven years old now and he’s learnt to spend his time alone. Not that he wants to, it’s just easiest this way, is all. Today is a particularly gorgeous day. He is sitting on a bench in the garden attached to his block. He’s alone, except for the old lady feeding the birds, but it’s okay, Steve likes the old lady.

He can sometimes see his mom watching him from their balcony three floors above. He knows she wants to be discreet so he just smirks to himself and dives into his sketchbook a little more. Today he feels like drawing his mother. Of course there’s a lot of her in his sketches, but he adores her and he doesn’t have many more models, anyway. He decides to draw her with a big smile on her face, holding the birthday cake she always makes for him on July 4th.

Not so strangely, this memory brings a lot of mixed feelings to Steve. Happiness, sorrow, all the things Steve does not want to think about at the moment.

He is focusing on his mother’s eyes when he feels a little tap on his shoulder.

He turns around, abruptly. “What?!” “Hum, hey? I’m sorry, I called you but I’m not sure you heard me so I, hum..”

A dark haired boy about his age is standing in front of him. Steve has never seen him here and by the look on the boy’s face, he truly has no intention of mocking him. “S’okay… Do you want something?”

Steve really, really , tries to be nice with the stranger. He’s just not used to having conversations with kids his age, that’s all. The boys seem confused at first but still smile widely at Steve.

“Not really, I just wanted to introduce myself. Me and my family just moved to this building,” he points at the block Steve and his Ma lives. “My name is Bucky!”

He extends his hand to Steve, watching him like he’s the goddamn sun- or maybe he’s just facing the actual sun, that’s why. Steve shakes his hand and attempts a smile, “Nice to meet you, I’m Steve.” And with the years passing, Steve actually learns that Bucky wasn’t trying to mock him on this brightful day. And it might just have been the best day of his entire life.

18th September, 2009

It’s the third time since the beginning of the school year. Somehow, Steve always finds himself stuck in an alley with assholes insulting him, shouting at him, as if he could hear them. So he does the only thing he can think of: he fucking punches them in the face.

Unfortunately for Steve, he’s still very much skinny, he still very much can’t breathe correctly; and when the dude hits back he hits hard, and Steve falls on his ass and against the wall. “Hey Rogers, it’s just us now, can you hear me or are you just pretending like you always do?”

Ah, yes. When he was a child, the other kids were laughing at him because he could not hear them correctly. Now, they’d think he was just lying to them, like it was funny for him to constantly ask people to repeat, please; and like it’s hilarious to be hit in some random alley by the same jackass every week.

“Fuck you, shithead,” Steve mutters under his breath. He is not about to bend down in front of this prick. Yes, even if he is indeed ass on the ground right now. As he waits for the next punch to come, he closes his eyes and feels absolutely nothing .

He cocks an eyebrow and opens only one of his eyes.

And he sees Bucky, actually pulling one of the guys by the collar, looking considerably pissed . Steve doesn’t know if it’s at him, but he’s glad his friend is here, - once again. The next few minutes are a mess of words shouted that Steve doesn’t understand, punches and name callings. When the guys finally leave, Bucky is all over Steve; who is still sitting on his butt on the floor, thank you very much.

“Damn Stevie, did they hurt you ?”

So, Steve can guess that Bucky is not mad at him, and that’s good.

“Why did you have to punch them? Can’t you walk away and let them talk like the stupid fuckheads they are?!”

Okay, so maybe Bucky is a little bit pissed, actually. Steve suddenly loses it and pushes Bucky away from him, before he gets up.

“Because, Bucky. I’m tired of being insulted and treated like I’m a freak or something. I know I am, they don’t need to remind me everytime they see me. But nothing, absolutely nothing can fix this. Can fix me .”

The look on Bucky’s face stiffens. “You’re not a freak, stop saying that.”

Steve can actually see that he’s trying. He’s trying so much to make him feel better. But he can’t and Steve knows that. The struggle he feels, and the loneliness he experiences every damn seconds of his damned life, Bucky can’t do anything about this.

With tears and a heavy heart, Steve turns around and begins to walk.

“Whatever, let’s go home.”

And it kills him to turn away from Bucky, because he knows that someday, perhaps he’ll leave too.

And he’s not sure his heart can handle a life without Bucky.

23rd November, 2012.

Bucky didn’t leave. Quite the opposite, actually.

Bucky stayed and was here for every step of Steve’s difficult life.

Surgeries, medical treatment gone bad, relapses, aftermaths... Bucky was always here, taking him to the hospital, at his bedside when he woke up from anesthesias. And it honestly makes Steve’s heart fly like a freaking butterfly. He cannot really understand that already, but he likes it. Maybe more than that. But what Steve is about to do, he needs to do it alone. Without Bucky, without his mom. On his own. And with all the confidence he has in his gut, he steps inside the store for his appointment.

When they put the device onto his ears, it first feels strange. Weird. He’s so used to not being able to hear, it’s almost too much. The person in charge assures him that it’ll feel better with time, he just needs to get used to it.

As soon as Steve gets out of the store, he feels like a train is rolling towards him at full speed. What the fuck is happenning, and why is everything so damn loud, and why the hell are those people even talking about on this damn tv program, and oh god why is this woman’s voice so acute and - oh, God.

Steve has to find Bucky. He has to find him right now, because the only thing he can think of is how much he aches for Bucky’s voice. Running full speed is not a problem anymore for Steve. After his heart surgery, his stamina is almost back to normal. But it’s enough for him to run to Bucky today.

He finds him sitting on their bench, the one where they met all those years ago, the one where they always hang out when they have free time. Bucky is wrapped in his big coat and scarf, scrolling on his phone, like nothing has changed.

He sees him running to him so he puts his phone in his pocket and genuinely smiles at him.

“Hey Steve, what’s up ?”

And Steve…  Steve can’t answer.

Because Steve is now crying his heart out and sobbing like it’s his eighth birthday all over again. Because he can finally, after all this time, hear his best friend’s voice. His raspy yet chocolate coated voice that he somehow already loves with his whole being. “What? Steve? Is everything okay? I swear to God if those punks are messing with you again Imma throw hands.”

Steve can see that Bucky is, honest to god, freaking out, holding him close. But he can’t help himself and cries and cries. And when he can finally compose himself a bit, he looks at Bucky in his beautiful grey eyes, and just kisses him.

Bucky pauses for a moment, then he deepens the kiss and it’s the most perfect, messy, and actually the only kiss of Steve’s entire life. It’s short and chaste but when their lips parts, Bucky still seems confused.

“Sorry,” Steve whispers, actually not sorry at all.

“Oh God, no, don’t be,” Bucky pauses. “But I still gotta ask, what happened, Stevie?”

Steve is looking at him in the eyes, instead of at his lips like he always had to do since they met, because he had to lipread. But now, now he doesn’t have to.

And something must click in Bucky’s big brain because his eyes widens and his mouth opens like he just saw a giant bee in the middle of Steve’s forehead. “Steve, are you...?” And gently, he tucks one of Steve’s long locks behind his ear and sees. “Oh my god Steve! When?” “Today, I ran as fast as I could, I wanted to hear your voice.”

And Bucky smiles, smiles. And he never stops smiling at Steve, like he’s the goddamn sun. But this time, it’s a gloomy November greyish day and there’s no ray of sunshine in Bucky’s eyes. Just Steve.

And it might actually be the second best day of his life, he thinks.

4th July 2019 - 3:02am

Steve is back in his bedroom, watching the shadows from the outside still dancing on his wall. He’s smiling. He is now 25- it’s been roughly 3 hours, he just saw the clock -, and he’s more happy than he ever was.

He’s feeling better now. The heart surgery changed everything and he now has a very normal stamina. He can breathe, he’s not as sick as he used to be, which is great. He’s going to the gym at least four times a week and ah, he can hear his Ma’s voice from here, “Stop growing like this Steven Grant Rogers, we got it, you’re taller than all of us!” He chuckles at the fond memory.

But what’s made Steve the man he is today is everything he understood those past few years.

It’s not the physical part. That, everyone can do. He learned that he never needed the validation of other people. He only needed to find out his true self, be gentle with himself and allow himself some time to grow.

But mostly, he realized that he didn’t need to be fixed, like he thought his entire life before that, like others wanted to make him think. No matter how much people still wanted to take him down, even now.

Steve was perfect the way he was, the way he was born, and it’ll always be the case. Weak heart, or not, loose stamina, or not.

Hearing impaired, or not.

Steve feels the quilt move a little and rearranges himself on the bed, feeling a little bit tired again - it is still 3am, after all. He gazes at the other side of the bed fondly as Bucky seems deeply asleep against the pillows, drooling a little.

Steve knows he’s snoring, not that he can hear it, but he just knows it. And that’s all that matters to him.

With all those thoughts- the good, the bad, everything that makes Steve the man he is today, he wraps himself around his boyfriend’s back tightly. And it doesn’t take long for him to join Bucky in his sleep, dreaming of friendly shadowy shapes in a starry, black sky.

[edda-blattfe]

Hello, the dorm leaders reacting to Coco and Finding Nemo please ? Ps: I really love the way you write the characters.

You really wanna see those boys cry, huh? Sorry it took so long to answer, had to find time to sit and rewatch both of these masterpieces. Hope y’all enjoy!

Finding Nemo

- Azul takes a personal interest in the marine life displayed in the film. Occasionally slips some fun facts in about the different kinds of fish and oceanic biomes. Nerd. Gets all of the fish jokes.

- Not even five minutes into the film and Kalim is already tearing up because MARLIN LOST EVERYTHING EXCEPT HIS LIL BABY AND OH MY GOD WHY WOULD YOU START A MOVIE THIS WAY?!?! Everyone else is shaken, and oddly impressed by the writers’ bold choice.

- Marlin: *is being an ass, telling Nemo there are things he just can’t do*

Nemo: I hate you.

Leona: Oof, shots fired!

- *Nemo gets kidnapped*

Idia: This is why you should never leave home...

- *Dory is introduced*

Riddle: Short-term memory loss?

Azul: It’s like those times when you walk into a room but forget what your going for, except all the time.

Kalim: Do I have short term memory loss?

Vil: No.

- Azul: *narrows eyes at the first scene with the aquarium scene* Is this a representation of how living in the confines of a small enclosure without enrichment deprives animals of their basic social needs, thus leading to these mentally unstable fish?

Leona: They’re crazy fish! It’s funny! Stop over analyzing everything and watch the god damn movie!

- *Darla pic appears*

Vil: *shudders* Are they sure that little gremlin didn’t eat the fish after shaking it to death?

- *scene when Marlin watches the baby sea turtle get back to the current on his own*

Malleus: Children have got to be free to live their own lives.

Vil: Did you just quote from “The Little Mermaid”?!

- Kalim and Riddle are literally screaming when Marlin thinks Nemo is dead and have pillows clutched to their chest. Then papa clownfish leaves Dory after she literally told him that he helped her remember stuff and she didn’t want to forget anymore and they were freaking sobbing! After the second time Nemo nearly died the two of them needed to rehydrate.

- Idia likes the “just keep swimming” ditty. Hopefully Ortho will learn it and sing it to him whenever big brother starts stressing out.

Coco

- Miguel: “Sometimes I think I’m cursed.”

Malleus, Idia, and Leona: Same.

- They all have mad respect for Mama Imelda. Man left her, but did she cry and lose hope? Nope! She worked her ass off and established a family business focused on shoe making, of all things! She could stand to loosen up when it comes to music tho...

- The focus on Dia de Los Muertos in the film really gets Idia’s attention. It’s nice to see a culture that honors the dead instead of fear them, as many do, especially in such a beautifully bright way!

- *Abuela smashes guitar*

Azul: *gasps in horror* How could she?!

Malleus: Not even the original villains were that cruel!

Leona: I don’t know, Triton was pretty bad too, if I recall.

- *Miguel enters the spirit world*

Leona: *whispers* I see dead people.

- Kalim loves the close relationship Miguel has with his family, even the ones who’ve passed on. It kinda reminds him of home, you know, in that bittersweet way. He’s probably gonna be a little homesick after this.

- Leona, on the other hand, thinks Miguel needs to cut ties with the fam and strike out on his own. If they won’t support his dreams why stick around, right?

- Mama Imelda: “ That devil box tells you nothing but lies! *proceeds to beat computer with boot*”

Idia: Hey Mal, it’s you!

Malleus: *unamused*

- Vil is amazed by all of the detail the animators put into every single scene. It’s such a stark contrast to their earlier works, you can really see the refinement of their skills. Pretty boy just really appreciates the hard work that led to the completion of this beautiful film.

- You know that scene when Hector’s friend has his final death as the moon shone across the water, and Hector played him a song for the last time? Yeah, no one is forgetting that scene anytime soon.

- Riddle is the one who really gets into the music, something about the tune gets straight to his heart. Heartlabyul better be prepared to have mariachi music playing for the next month.

- Hector: *big reveal about how De la Cruz stole his songs*

Everyone: *gasps*

Azul: Does that mean that Hector could be Miguel’s great grandfather?

Everyone else: 😶

- No one expected that twist!

- Leona: That makes way more sense than his great grandfather running out on Imelda. Who could leave such a nice peace of-

Idia: *jumps out of emo corner* Respect the dead, you thirsty hoe!

Leona: 0_0

- *they finally figure out that Hector and Miguel are related*

Azul: Knew it!

Riddle: Stop spoiling the movie!

- I don’t care how hard your heart is, there isn’t a soul alive who doesn’t tear up when Hector sings “Remember Me” to his baby girl, and these kids are no exception! Kalim is clutching to a pillow while Riddle is holding onto his arm, balling their eyes out. Vil is dabbing his eyes with a handkerchief. Leona had buried himself into the couch cushions so no one could see that he has a soul. Idia is hidden in his hoody. Meanwhile, Azul and Malleus simply sit there misty eyed.

- *Mama Coco remembers her papa*

Everyone: *sobbing*

- Kalim: *with snot running down his face and tears streaming down his cheeks* Ma-*hiccup*-ma Coco got to see her papa again and Hector got to live and they’re all so happy! *ugly crying*.

Vil: Don’t get that on the carpets..ugh, here *hands a handkerchief*

Kalim: Thanks...

[fairiesherefairiesthere]

5 times people got an insight into Freed and Laxus’ marriage and one time the whole guild did.

For @bluejaii, who sent me the sweetest ask and for @aceofheartsworld who always leaves the most heartwarming comments ! 

1. Gildarts

On the unique times that Gildarts is present in the guildhall, there are a few things he likes to do. The first being showering his amazing daughter with love and support, of course. Making good use of the guild's alcohol supply is second and his third favourite thing, involves bothering the shit out of the youngsters. Wendy and Romeo are easy to fool, eager to believe anything as long as it's said by an adult (Wendy more so than Romeo). Others are unbotherable (he doesn't know how to tease Erza without gravely insulting her, she ticks in a weird way.) Elfman is very easy to tease (How's your girlfriend doing?) and flustering Juvia is the simplest thing in the world. Now, one of Gildarts' favourite victims must be Laxus Dreyar himself.

The youngster has always been a bit (a lot) defensive when it comes to personal relationships and it's only gotten worse with the years. So of course, Gildarts has been asking the young man the same question every time he sees him : "You married yet?" It never fails to ruffle his feathers and Gildarts' always hides his laugh when the other man starts to look at anything but him before stomping off to God knows where.

Because Laxus probably relates Gildarts to feelings ranging from lowkey annoyance to highkey annoyance, the youngster tends to avoid him. So it comes as a complete surprise when Laxus enters the guildhall, lays eyes on Gildarts and smirks. His surprise gets even bigger when the young man takes a seat right in front of him and says : "Let's talk old man."

Although he's a little put off by Laxus seeking him out, he's not about to let that deter him from bothering the man. Leaning back, he plans to ask his usual question, absolutely sure of its effect until he studies Laxus carefully. He has his hand propped up under his chin and his smile gets smugger when Gildarts' eyes land on his ringfinger. His ringfinger adorned with an actual ring. A wedding ring. On Laxus' finger. After a minor mindimplosion, Gildarts opens his mouth to scream. Laxus stops him by slamming a menu card into his mouth.

"Listen, I'm here for one reason and reason only", Laxus states and glares at him with eyes that are very, very alike to Makarov's when he's displeased. Fucking genetics. "Okay, shoot."

"You had one wife that you liked, right? Cana's ma." He nods. "She was the love of my life. Why do you ask?” For a long time, Laxus stares at him and Gildarts wonders if the other is evaluating how genuine he is. Then, he crosses his arms and lowers his head unto them. "My partner is amazing", he blurts out and after that, he starts a three hour rant about why he loves his spouse.

-

2. Cana

"Laxus, drink with me!" she yells before plopping down annoyingly close next to him on the bench, invading his personal space just a little bit. She knows it doesn't bother Laxus at all, but it does bother his greenie and Cana has decided that she has the full right to pester him in every petty way possible. Scanning the area, she comes to the conclusion that Freed isn't around. Bummer.

"It's the good stuff", she winks and he gives her an amused huff before shaking his head. "No thanks, I'm good." Sticking out her tongue, she slaps his bicep. "Boo, where did your sense of adventure go? Your tongue for excellent beerrrr", she says while obnoxiously rolling her r's. "I think my husband wouldn't appreciate it too much, should I arrive at home drunk. I don't want to arrive home drunk either, because it makes my memory spotty and you best believe that I do not want to forget a single moment with my spouse."

Oh god. Laxus Dreyar isn't even drunk and he's already sappy. Looking at the clock, Laxus hums before ruffling her hair and standing up. "Dinnertime's rolling around and I'm not a lowly fucker, so I'm going to help my husband. You have fun, Cana." Watching his retreating back, Cana mutters : "Need me a freak like that."

-

3. Gajeel

On some subconscious level, Laxus still makes him feel a bit jittery. They've both been absolutely shitty, turned around and became less shitty. They have even regularly fought the same fights and Gajeel has teased the man quite a bit (as long as there were other people around). Doesn't mean that his body has forgotten what getting electrocuted felt like. So, one can understand that Gajeel felt an itty bitty nervous when Laxus stormed into the guildhall and then in his direction.

"Gajeel." His hope that the man was seeking out someone else leaps out of the window. "What", he snaps back and the other man's jaw tightens. "Your bookworm." Immediately, the protectiveness flares up, nervousness forgotten. "What about her?"

"She likes books."

What. How the fuck does this man's brain work? Looking at Laxus, who's running his hand through his hair and huffing in frustration, he decides to shut up until the guy finds his words. He doesn't seem to be that good at it. "You guys went to that book convention two towns over a few days ago. Did she think it was worth it?"

Laxus being the reading type? That's one that Gajeel did not see coming. Then it hits him like a freighttrain and he cackles. "Need a place to take your boyfriend to? Don't worry, I won't tell a soul."

"My what? I don't have a boyfriend." Oops. Turns out he was too fast. "My bad, but seriously ask Freed out, he'll say yes. Not to overstep any boundaries or something, but you deserve happiness and shit. People tell me that a lot, so I thought I'd relay the message." The corner of Laxus' mouth turns up and Gajeel mentally pats himself on the back. God, he's good at this. He should start making motivational songs.

"Thanks, my husband tends to tell me that too." Then he leaves. The jackass.

-

4. Lucy and Natsu

It's a mystery. An enigma. A plotline more intriguing than anything she'd cooked up lately. What is this baffling conundrum Lucy has been trying to unravel? Laxus Dreyar's dating life.

Okay, maybe it isn't that big of a deal, but the man is surrounded by the prettiest people in the world (Mirajane, Cana, to name a few) and doesn't seem to be too interested in them (she can't relate). If she were less... cautious, she would've asked him about it by now, but alas, she's still a bit of a chicken sometimes. Sue her.

"Lucy, what are we doing?" Natsu flatly asks her. "Spying on Laxus", she whispers back and Natsu hums. "Understandable. Why?"

"Do you think anyone is interested in him?" she asks and wonders if the intricacies of romantic attraction even register in Natsu's head. His answer absolutely floors her. "Lucy, there's only two types of people who haven’t had a crush on Laxus once in their live and those are the ones that aren't into men. Or are too cowardly to admit it. Luckily for me, I'm neither of those."

"You had a crush on Laxus?" He rolls his eyes. "Keep up with the plan Luigi, of course, just like ninety percent of the guild. You've ever thought he's hot?" She admits: "Yeah, like once or twice."

"See Lucy, now you're getting what bi/pan solidarity is."

"Bonding over how hot Laxus is?"

"You might as well start calling it bi/pan/gay solidarity then", a new, terribly amused voice says above them and Lucy lets out an "Eep!" and hits her head against the table. Crawling from underneath it, she and Natsu come face to face with Freed Justine, who's looking both too entertained and smug.

Refusing to let go of her pastime, Lucy puts her hands on her hips and faces the captain. "What's Laxus' dating life like?" she demands to know and Freed shrugs. "I wouldn't know, he doesn't have one."

"Oh", she pouts and he chuckles. "If that's all, I'm gonna join the subject of your espionage." Right before he leaves, he looks over his shoulder and adds : "Since his dating life is nonexistent, you should ask him about his marriage."

-

5. Wendy

The flyer picturing the fair looks positively radiant and Wendy can nearly smell the candy apples and other sugared goods. It's a shame she won't be able to go though, because her team will be going on a mission and it's too far and dangerous for her to travel alone. A shadow alerts her of someone standing behind her and when she whirls around, she comes face to face (well more like face to chest) with Freed.

He too is staring at the poster and shyly she says. "It looks fun, doesn't it? If I were able to go, I'd take someone dear with me." Her voice must've sound a tad bit too longing, because he glances in her direction and asks : "Are you not able to go?" She shakes her head. "No, my team will be away and it's too far to go without adult supervision."

"I could go with you, if you do not mind my company, that is. Ah, I'll be taking someone dear to me along too, so you could invite Chelia if you wanted too." More often than not, she curses her face for revealing exactly what she's thinking, but right now, Wendy is over the moon. "Thank you mister Freed!" she yells before giving him a hug and speeding off. She's gonna have a blast with Chelia!

"Seems like our babysitters are tired", Chelia grins before shrugging. "Eh, at least we got candy out of it." As the two of them share their candy, Wendy looks at the scene in front of them. With an amount of skill that she certainly hadn't expected, Laxus is pinning Freed's hair up with a hairpin that he'd won a little while earlier. The light reflects off the pin and the rings adorning both men's fingers.

"Hey Wendy", Chelia says, laying her head on Wendy's shoulder. "When we're old like those two, let's be like that." Putting her hand on top of Chelia's and weaving their fingers together, Wendy nods sleepily. "Let's do that."

-

+1 Makarov or actually, + the whole guild

"Hey Gramps, you mind if we throw a guild party?" Well, aren't those words he thought he'd never hear out of his grandson's mouth. "You do whatever you want brat, as long as you can pay for it. What's the occassion?"

"Oh I got married."

"You what?"

(They get to hold the party and yes, Makarov cries over his grandsons. Both of them.)

[hostagine]

OMGGGG REQUESTS R OPEN... can you PLEASE do headcanon for how hosts would react when finding out their s/o is pregnant !!! AHHH ILY UR MA FAV BLOG

(WAH THANK YOU SO MUCH ILY TOO THANK YOU I HOPE THIS DOESN'T DISAPPOINT ❤️)

Tamaki:

Is told some time after dinner one night.

He's was so oblivious to the signs.

Has to be told twice because the first "I'm pregnant" goes right over his head. Not that he doesn't understand, it just takes him a minute to comprehend what's happening. And kind of mumbles:

"... You're pregnant?"

He smiles, but only a little bit, and only briefly, before he covers his mouth with his hand and starts crying.

Not a lot, but there's tears in his eyes.

Then starts to laugh And throws his arms around them. Holding them tight, and lifting them up until their toes aren't touching the floor.

Then, let's them go and gives a little flap with his hands, similar to a bird and starts ranting about what they're going to name it.

He admits that he kind of hopes it a girl but says he'll love them no matter what.

Tamaki loves kids. He's fantasized about this moment for as long as he could remember.

So of course there's no room for any apprehension. He's over the moon.

He calls Kyoya 10 mins after he finds out.

"Tamaki... You're just now finding out?"

"!!!?"

He's shocked that he knew before he did.

But everyone knew before Tamaki. They just didn't want to say anything.

Kyoya:

Is told the night before he leaves on a (business?) trip.

He just got out of the shower. And they're holding the little white stick.

He had no idea, but when they say they're pregnant, he isn't surprised. He expected it eventually. They weren't being safe.

He puts his glasses on, in a surprisingly composed manner and says "Are you sure?"

They say yes and he goes kind of quiet.

He's happy of course. But he doesn't know how to express that.

He's smiling though. Just a little bit.

He approached them when he sees that his reaction wasn't what they were hoping and leans against their forehead, cupping his hands on either side of their tiny baby bump

And says something about it being a good time for them to bring an heir to the Ootori clan.

Then he walks off somewhere, mumbling they should schedule an ultrasound appointment. And find a trustworthy pediatrician.

Tachibana is the first one he tells. Then Aijima.

Tachibana has to tell Hotta.

That night after his S/O is asleep, Kyoya falls asleep with his head under their arm and his hand caressing their stomach

Kind of hopes he has a son but it doesn't really make a difference to him.

Hikaru:

He just got off work. They've been pacing around waiting for him.

He sees that they're kind of pale and kind of rambles out guesses of what could be wrong with them and misses the mark completely.

It'd be an accident. Though not exactly a bad one.

Kids aren't exactly on his bucket list. Not because he's never wanted them but because he's just never thought about it.

So when he hears "I'm pregnant" he kind of has an emotional breakdown. Because oh, this was a really sudden.

Starts to sweat a lot.

Let's out a staggered: "...Oh." and runs his fingers through his hair and starts mumbling to himself: "oh... my god- I mean- Okay... Um... Yeah."

They have to grab his shoulders and tell him to breathe cause he kind of forgets to.

"Are you... Not happy?" They ask.

And he's horrified.

"N-no!! I am!" He grabs their hands, "We're having a baby. I... I'm happy."

He thinks so anyway. He's kind of confused with how he feels but he won't tell them that.

He grabs their face and kisses them, in his strange way of reassuring them, before he gets this sudden burst of excitement and says he has to tell Kaoru.

Kaoru:

Is told told at an ungodly time of day.

Really early in the morning. 5am.

He's still sleeping when the bathroom door bursts open and they pounce on him still in bed demanding that he wake up.

He sits up with them in their lap, screaming and panicked, grabbing their arms, asking them what's wrong, still half asleep.

They grab his face and says they're pregnant and it doesn't sink in right away.

"What happened to the peasant?!"

"No Kaoru! I'm pregnant."

"Pregnant?"

Then he goes quiet, wondering if he heard right.

"... You're Pregnant? Right now?"

His eyes moved from their eyes to their stomach then to their face, then to their stomach, then back at their face, and cups his hands on either side of their tiny bump.

" R-really? A Baby? That's… Our baby?"

Then it sinks in after they nod, and gasps, "We're having a baby!" He holds them tight and gently tackles them forward onto the bed, kissing all over their face.

He's fully awake now and he's going to call his brother right now so they can be awake early and excited together.

Mori:

It's late in the evening and Mori's just finished training. (For no reason).

He's sweaty and shirtless and kind of dusty from the training ground, and is about to go inside for a late dinner when his S/O belts out of the house running towards him.

He panicks and holds his arms out to catch them and is shocked for a moment, looking back at the house as though it might be on fire until they start to kiss his face, with their hand in his hair.

He doesn't mind this but he leans back, still holding them and asks what's wrong, in the most neutral tone.

They ramble and the only thing he manages to catch is "I'm pregnant."

And he gasps quietly, a bit of expression flashing across his face.

His heart stops momentarily. And carefully places them back down on their feet.

He stares off into their eyes for a moment, before mumbling, "Really?"

They nod, showing them the little white stick and his eyes goes wide and he smiles. Picking them up again and spins them around.

Slowly though, cause of the little one.

He tells Mitsukuni the first thing the next morning.

Hani:

He and his S/O are eating dinner and are then eating cake for dessert when a few minutes later his S/O runs off and throws up.

He's horrified. He thinks the cake was poisoned.

The next day he and his S/O are having breakfast at a cafe and he orders a cheesecake.

He taste tests it first. For poison. He won't have another evil cake poison the love of his life again. No sir.

Nothing happens, but his partner gets sick again again on their way home and he's really worried this time and starts to freak out.

He's almost in tears. Cause they're sick and can't enjoy cake with him anymore and says they have to go to the doctor.

His S/O insists they're not ill. That it's just morning sickness. And pouts that they were waiting for a good moment to tell him.

His mind goes blank for a moment and he panicks.

"Is it contagious!?" He gasps. Cause he doesn't want to get sick when he eats cake too. He'd be sad.

But it sinks in immediately after his inner crisis and gawks at them. Eyes wide.

"You're pregnant?"

They nod. And he grabs their hands.

"I'm gonna be a daddy?"

He spins them around, like a careful game of ring-aroung-the rosy, and kisses them them, with a kind of teen'ish excitement.

"Can babies eat cake?"

"No, Mitsukuni."

[queenofcats17]

Hi there! I just read your nerf war Drabble and I completely forgot about buddy and Henry aaa. I know in a previous hell’s studio fic it was mentioned that Henry and buddy had a dad/son dynamic (I think it was part of the werewolf saga?) and I was wondering if you could write a Drabble where buddy turns into a werewolf and Henry (who is, maybe also a werewolf?) finds Buddy and Dot and helps out? Understandable if it’s too overwhelming or anything. I hope you’re doing ok otherwise!

I am doing alright and I’d be happy to write this.

I’m a big fan of werewolves being big puppies

—————————————————————

Buddy was freaking out. One minute everything had been normal and the next he’d been growing fur and bursting out of his clothes. Lycanthropy had been making the rounds in the studio as of late, starting with Henry, but Buddy hadn’t expected he would be affected. Maybe if he’d known, he wouldn’t have stayed after hours to finish up some frames.

He’d thought it wouldn’t hurt. Henry, Joey, and Dot were still there, Dot discussing some new script ideas with Joey and Henry finishing up some frames as well. He wasn’t working alone and Henry had promised to give him a ride home when they were both done. So it was fine, right?

Evidently not.

Buddy let out what could only be described as a whimper, looking around at the destroyed remains of his clothing and chair. What was he going to do? How had this even happened? Would Henry and Joey be angry about the destroyed chair? His ears flattened against his head and he made an attempt to make himself smaller. Should he hide?

Suddenly, he heard someone moving behind him. He scrambled around, nails digging into the wood. A large black wolf lumbered out from the area of Henry’s desk. For a moment, Buddy was terrified. How had a wolf gotten in here?! But as the wolf drew closer, he recognized it as Henry’s wolf form.

“I didn’t know you were a werewolf too,” Henry said. He was speaking through growls and barks, but Buddy could understand him as though he were speaking English.

“I’m not!” Buddy protested, although he quickly faltered. “Or…I didn’t think I was.”

“I’ve heard these traits can be dormant.” Henry nodded sagely. Or as sagely as he could being a giant wolf.

“Okay…” Buddy relaxed a bit. He felt better now that Henry was there and it seemed he wasn’t going to get yelled at. Not to mention, Henry was a werewolf too. So at least Buddy wasn’t alone in this.

“Geez. How am I gonna tell Ma about this?” Buddy mumbled. He’d tried to keep the weird supernatural stuff that went on at the studio away from her. He knew she’d get worried if she knew half the shit that went down there.

“I could tell her if you like,” Henry offered. “She might feel better about the situation if she hears it from an adult.”

“That’d be great!” Buddy lit up momentarily before his expression immediately fell. “Wait…Can you talk like this?”

“Not to humans,” Henry said. “But I’m not going to tell her right this instant.”

“I can’t go home like this, though!” Buddy’s anxiety flared up once more. “She’s gonna worry if I don’t come home!”

“I’ll have Dot or Joey call her then.”

It was at that point that Dot rounded the corner with a stack of papers in her arms. She didn’t seem too terribly surprised to see two wolves in the hallway, thankfully.

“Hey, Mr. Stein,” she said, nodding in his direction before looking at Buddy. “And…Buddy?”

Buddy nodded shyly, ears drooping again.

“Hm.” Dot frowned, shifting the papers in her arms. “Someone should probably tell your mom about this.”

Buddy looked abruptly up, nodding frantically.

“Yes! Please!” He begged, jumping up and putting his paws on her shoulders, almost making her drop her papers.

“Whoa! Hey!” Dot said, moving back. “I can’t understand barks. Are you saying you want me to tell your mom you aren’t going to come home tonight?”

Buddy nodded again, retreating a bit out of shame. Henry moved closer to him, nuzzling his face in an attempt to calm the teenager.

“I’ll go get Mr. Drew to call her, don’t worry,” Dot assured him, scratching him behind the ear. Buddy leaned into the scratch, surprised at how good it felt. His tail began to thump against the floor.

“That’s pretty cute.” Dot couldn’t help but giggle. She quickly ran off to tell Joey to call Mrs. Lewek before returning to do something to make Buddy more comfortable. Also, she wanted to see just how much of a big puppy he was.

When she got back, Henry had curled protectively around Buddy and was grooming him. Dot really wished she had a camera because she really wanted to remember this moment.

“You want me to make you guys a nest of blankets and pillows?” She asked, trying to hide her smile behind her hand.

Both Buddy and Henry looked up, their tails starting to wag in unison. Dot’s smile widened. This was going to be a lot of fun.

.

Dot fell asleep on a cot that night, with Buddy and Henry curled up in their little blanket nest nearby. Buddy was still a little nervous about his werewolf condition, but he felt better now. He had friends and family who would help him through it. His mother would probably be a little surprised by all this, but she’d work with it, as she had with his grandfather’s mental decline.

As Buddy laid under the blankets, Henry curled around him, he felt…happy. Safe. It felt good. He made a happy noise, closing his eyes and snuggling closer to Henry. He wondered if they could do this again the next full moon. He’d like that.