#and i know a lot of people hopped in late or halfway through

[svtskneecaps]

ngl if streams get dry i think qsmpblr should create some initiative where we day by day watch the series over again in order. give it some fuckin stupid ass tag name like "qsmp reverse redux" for proper filtering and tag it all as vodblogging and set ourselves loose on bits of the series that some people may never have had a chance to watch because this series moves SO. GODDAMN FAST. and there's barely ever time for vodwatching.

pick your pov or watch multiple who cares but it has to be in our pocket dimension reverse time day. a qsmp electric boogaloo. idc if we have to make a fucking discord server to keep track of what day we're on or to maybe even coordinate those "watch2gether" youtube tool groups or whatever it was so those who feel inclined to twitch chat can still feel the feeling of being in a live chat except the streamers can't hear you.

i just think it would be fun. and i like liveblogging with y'all. and not everybody was around from day 1, so we can try to give them that. unfortunately we missed the exact one year so it'd be a bit messy but who the fuckkkkk cares :D

[politicsusa]

Fearful of LGBTQ Backlash? Let CenterLink Help You Find Your People!

LGBTQ community centers can help you find and create support even in the worst of times. I should know.

LGBTQ community centers collectively serve over 58,700 people each week, or over 3 million people per year. Further, they refer nearly 14,800 individuals per week, or about 770,000 people per year, to other agencies or providers, such as LGBTQ-friendly medical providers, lawyers, or businesses.

Are you scared today? Lots of queer people are, especially transgender people. As an older cisgender gay man, I'm scared. I live in a very rural, very conservative part of the United States, just a quick hop from a town where taxpayers voted to eliminate their public library rather than let it shelve queer-positive books like Heartstopper. You should have seen the newspaper editorials! Since the election, anti-queer sentiment has become louder, and I feel even more like a stranger in a strange land.

But after a phone call the other day with CenterLink, I reached out to a local group, and I might already have found community I didn't know existed. I bet you can too.

At 62 years old, I've been here before, so let me tell you a story about how wonderful queer community centers can be!

I'll never forget the day in 1990 when the LGBT Community Center in New York City radically improved my life. Imagine a painfully shy young man in his late twenties, disoriented and scared after being forced out of a career in the U.S. Air Force. I'd failed a routine security-clearance polygraph. Told the FBI examiners I wasn't gay. Their machine called me a liar. So did they. To my face.

I had money saved, and I decided I could no longer tolerate feeling ashamed just to be me. So, one day in West Berlin, eyes squeezed shut in fear, I flipped a coin to decide between moving to San Francisco or Manhattan.

Months later, my savings were evaporating even though I was staying at NYC's inexpensive McBurney YMCA, the one that inspired the Village People.

Bars and clubs intimidated me. Young, hip queer people did too. What to do? How to make friends? How to become part of the dream I'd come chasing from halfway around the world?

By some fluke of fate, I took to bringing lunch every day to the outdoor garden at the LGBT Community Center on 13th Street in Greenwich Village. I'd sit on a bench, scouring help-wanted ads, peeking over the New York Times at people I didn't dare reach out to.

One day, one of them walked up, pretended to knock on my newspaper, pulled it down, and said, "I knew you'd be much cuter if you smiled!"

He told me his name was Lenny, and he introduced me to most of the garden crew. That night, he took me to see experimental performance art at La MaMa ETC. We fell in love! Soon, we started celebrating that day as our official anniversary.

When Lenny passed ten years later, our friends packed a big room near the garden where some of them had witnessed our newspaper moment. I cried and laughed my way through a eulogy, comforted by the support and love of the tightest community I've ever known.

Our friends were gay men and lesbians, some of them my colleagues from Queer Nation and Act Up — some of them youthful social workers from the HIV/AIDS service agency where I worked.

[snapscube]

is it too late to get into FFXIV and join the community? I see all the other pro gamers play it (such as yourself), and I kinda feel left out.

I mean, all I know about final fantasy is VII and V, and I’ve played neither of em. like I feel if I rocked up now a la “eeey ain’t that sephiroth guy funny?” and the lvl 800s or whatever would be like “begone mongrel”

what do you reckon?

Not too late in the slightest. The entire game is structured to support the new player experience. Even endgame players spend a large amount of time doing content from earlier expansions, even (especially, actually) the base game, so there's always someone to play with. They're also updating the game over time with features to support playing through the main storyline, the biggest draw of the game, completely single player, and at the moment they are well over halfway done with those updates I believe and should have completed the restructure before the release of the next expansion. So if you literally just wanna hop in and do the story, you have your pick whether to do it with people or by yourself. Optional content is gonna be group based, though. But even then, new players generally get a lot of consideration and if people can see you are new, they will understand and be patient in helping you through the content. Just gotta be open to that help, and be open to being social. That's it. Just log in and have fun, don't worry about status or history.

Also, the story is completely self contained btw, just in case that's a concern and you're not familiar with how Final Fantasy works. It's "Final Fantasy 14" but it's not the 14th chapter in a long story, it's just its own thing. So once you start the game, you're on the exact same contextual playing field as every other newcomer, you don't need to prepare at all beforehand. Just go for it!

[igotanidea]

The Raven's daughter: Morpheusx Matthew's daughter pt 2

prevously: part 1

Part 2

Since The Dream Lord never explicitly forbid Matthew from visiting his daughter, the Raven was using every opportunity to do so. This time he surprised the girl on Friday morning taping on her window on the early morning.

-Hey dad, perfect timing, you know. If you keep doing this I might throw my alarm clock away – Kay opens the window, not quite awake yet with her hair being a mess and her eyes not accustomed to the light.

-Don’t fool me. You don’t have an alarm clock. You use your phone for that. I just really hope you changed the sound, it was always annoying me – the Raven hops inside referring to his daughter’s high school time when she was listening to some electronic music

-It was a brief phase! – she protest emphasizing the word “brief”, even now, being almost 30 still a bit embarrassed about that – And yes, I did change it. But you would not like my alternative rock either.

-You know, this is one of the very rare moments where I’m glad to be a bird. I can always fly away from the music I don’t like – Matthew spats jokingly.

-Just wait here for a minute, ok? I need to remind my eyes their purpose is to actually helps me see. I don’t think they’re awoken just yet – she lets her father into tiny kitchen and leaves him crouching (?) on the counter.

A couple minutes later, she prepares breakfast. Unbothered by Matthew’s disapproval she just pour some cold milk into the bowl and fill it with cereals.

-Kay! – the raven caws – how many times do I have to tell you? The cereals goes first, then you add milk.

-Oh, yeah, I forgot – she grins – guess it’s too late now.

If anyone from the outside ever watched this two, one would think father and daughter to be childlike individuals fighting over every simple thing. The truth however, was that they had a lot of inside jokes and deeply cared about each other. Matthew, as the father was somewhat better at showing that explicitly. Kay was more prone to use sarcasm and irony to cover her sensitive part and avoid being hurt. There were only a couple of people who saw through that. The rest? Simply wasn’t worth it. Knowing his daughter well enough, Matthew decided  it would be best to entertain Kay with the continuation of the story he started last time when he visited.

- …. and then, after we received boss’ pouch of sand we went to Hell…

- Hell? Like literal Hell or are you being metaphorical right now?

Mere mention of the Dream Lord and her father going to Hell made Kayleen stop her spoon halfway between the bowl and her open with astonishment mouth. Neither the girl nor the bird notices her hand shaking slightly causing some of the cereal to drop down and splashing the milk all over Matthew and Kay’s pajama.

-Hey, watch it, Kayleen – Matthew ruffles his feathers a bit annoyed

-Sorry, dad - she reaches for the towel trying to dry her father which is funny enough if you have a specific sense of humor.

-Never mind. I meant literal Hell. You know, souls of the damned, demons and Lucifer. By the way did you know that the ruler of underground is actually a woman? Pretty intimidating one, may I add.

-Obviously. That’s a common knowledge. I am basically on a first- name basis with Lucifer – she shrugs casually – But sarcasm aside, I’m not a bit surprised it takes a woman to keep a bunch of demons in check.  The person who said we are the weak sex must have definitely been a man – she grins and Matthew can’t help being proud of how powerful and resilient his daughter grew up to be. Considering the fact she was raised without a mother who left the family when Kay was little – I can’t believe I’m really asking this, but how was it? In Hell? Do they really make the damned wash in the ladle of tar?

-What? No. Quite the opposite actually.

-Meaning?

-They make you bring your own fire to hell.

-What? Really? So  the costs of maintenance is high there too, I suppose? I mean, my rent has been killing me lately. And speaking of rent, I would love to continue this conversation later but for the time being I got to get to work. You know, I’m still a human and I have to earn to pay the bills. Otherwise I might be forced to go to Hell as well. Hmm – she mutters – that even rhymes.

-Sorry, Kay, I guess I forgot about that. I just missed you and can’t get enough of you.

-I know. It’s ok. I missed you too – the girl gently taps the bird’s head – can you visit me later? In the evening? I finish my classes at 4 p.m. That is – if you have some kind of time tracking in the …. – she hesitates trying to remember the name of Morpheus’ realm … - Dreaming – she snaps her finger in sudden realization.

-We don’t and I’m not entirely sure if boss wouldn’t need me later on. He relies on me heavily, you know.

-I bet. You must be very important to him. The only one loyal enough to follow him through the gates of damnation – she laughs lightly and it’s contagious making Matthew “laugh”  too.

-Well, he’s not exactly the first one to admit it.

-Yeah, from what I saw when he appeared here he can be quite moody and distant. Drama queen much?

-He is. And you don’t even know one percent of it. Anyway, I will do my best to meet you after work. I know you like a good story.

-Being an English and writing lecturer requires a little bit of imagination and creativity so any prompt can be useful.

-And I’ll be glad to provide you with that. So, we see each other later. – the Raven states, gently tapping Kayleen’s hand with his wing and fly out the open window.

-This is crazy – Kayleen says to herself – this is batshit crazy – shaking her head but still with a smile on her face she quickly dresses up, picks up her bag and leave the flat. Thankfully, she lives close to the University so there is no risk of being late.

***

As she crosses the street she spots one of the new teacher. The historian. She didn’t really have the opportunity of meeting and greeting him properly but she met an ear that his name was quite unusual. Hob? Maybe that was some sort of abbreviation? From Robert perhaps? Anyway, rumor has it, that this new guy was a walking encyclopedia of fun facts so she already had an idea of how to get him involved in her classes covering some literature classics. Like Shakespeare for example. But that was an idea for the future since the topic for today was frankly the ancient roots of modern arts. How the current writers and artist derive from what was created from the past.

The girl quickly enters the auditorium humming with content. Once again all of her students showed up. Not that she wanted to brag, but her classes was always the most-attended one and that made her proud. The possibility to help shaping and inspiring young minds was always appealing to her so she was practically leaving her own Dream.

-Good morning everyone  - she greets the student getting some in return – I’m so happy to see you all. Today’s topic might be particularly interesting to you since we are going to be mixing a little bit of past with a little bit of present.

-So you’re not going to bore us with the history of some old classic dudes who died a hundred years ago, professor? – one of the boys in the front row ask.

-Oh, I was actually planning on making you learn the whole history of Plato by heart – she jokes and the atmosphere loosen up – But seriously, did I ever?  - Kay smiles at him as the boy shakes his head grinning.  That was another specifics of her classes. She never stopped students from freely expressing their minds. This was a free-hate, open – minded space where she allowed even the sacrum to be torn apart and build up again.  Most often with the surprising and exciting results. – Ok, I know you come from different schools and therefore your experience with teachers may vary, but once again I got to remind you of the first rule here. Do you remember it? – the students nod their heads – Amber? Would you like to say it out loud? – Kay point to the redhead girl .

-Don’t be afraid to use constructive criticism.

-Precisely. So… - Kay launches the presentation she prepared for today – ancient Greece and Rome. The cradle of humanity. The basis of culture, art and stories. Do you agree? Or do you think something else?

-In my opinion Greece and Rome are overrated.

-Ok. Care to elaborate, Dylan?

-I mean, in all of the history books there are so many pages about the Greek philosophy, the Roman law, their mythology and inventions. I do not question the fact that there were great accomplishments like aqueducts, but at the same time I feel like other cultures are not being given enough credit.

-Any particular in your mind?

-Yes. Egyptians. And maybe Scandinavian. I mean, Zeus is the same as Ra or Odin, right?

-I can’t really agree with that – another student chimes in.

-Speak your mind then, Abby. What’s your opinion?

-Dylan still keeps on naming the big cultures. But what about the ones that really are forgotten in history books? Personally I’m quite interested in Andean cultures but there are no information of them anywhere.

-I think both of you have some right. The point is that  the cultures inspired one another. None of them actually functioned in isolation. And what Dylan said about Zeus, Ra and Odin being the same is true. As well as the fact that they may have derived from the civilizations we don’t even know existed. It all transpires. So tell me, does any of you believe we can use some of ancient in today’s work? Give some modern vibe to stories from the past and give them new meaning?  Yes, Skye?

-I… I actually started a story based on one of the myths.   

-Great. Would you like to share it with the class? – Kay encourages her, aware that Skye is one of the shy students –come on, safe space, remember?

-Well…. It’s modern approach on the story of the god of Dreams? – Sky has this manner of speaking when she’s using the questing intonation. – Morpheus

Are you kidding me? – Kayleen thinks to herself. Why does my world start revolving around the Dream Lord all of a sudden. First, my dad being his Raven, then he himself showing up and now this.

-Really? – she asks not showing any sign of her real train of thought.

-Yes. I was thinking of starting the story from the sleeplessness disease that we had to deal with some time ago. I was like five when it ended but the newspapers were writing a lot about it so there’s a lot of material to go through. And the opposite of insomnia – the  story of the sleeping beauty, you know professor. Unity Kinkaid.

-Yes, yes, I know what you mean. I was actually born during this time so I had the opportunity to briefly experience that. If you like I could give you a hand with writing – Kay smiles .

-That would be amazing, professor. Thank you.

-Don’t mention it. So – would anyone else like to share an idea of their own? Or maybe add something to Skye’s?

When the class ends Kayleen’s thoughts go back to the time of the dreamer’s disease. She clearly remember one particular person, Roderick Burgess and his son Alex, who claimed they had a Devil locked up the basement of their manor. Only that it was not the devil. Her father already told her some part of the story, mentioning that it was in fact the Dream who they held in captivity. For a century. No wonder he was acting the way he was. A hundred years completely alone would drive anyone insane.  And when he broke free the whole craziness of retreating his tools and talking birds started. Matthew was only halfway through the story but Kay was smart enough to connect the dots given.

Getting lost in her own thoughts of Morpheus’ locked-up time and having her half-an-hour lunch break she didn’t notice her eyelids growing heavy, slowly drifting off to a nap on her own desk. What she also didn’t know is that she was on a way to a very different domain. The one she only ever heard off. The one ruled by some particularly broody dark-haired man.  When she opens her eyes the girl is dumbfounded as her surroundings doesn’t even remotely resemble her home city, London. She’s standing in the middle of meadow, so peaceful and quiet that it actually seems a bit eerie to her. The colors, the scents and the sounds seem twice as vibrant as anywhere else she has ever been. There’s also not a single soul anywhere. As she turns around she spots a path leading to an enormous lake with water so clear that you can see right through it and a suspension bridge above it. Kayeen is amused by the fact that it’s shaped in the form of giant hands holding the arch and leading the way straight to the gates of the palace made from white and gold marble with stained glass windows, and sculptures. Despite the fact that there are quite a lot of ornaments everything seems classy and thoughtful.

-Amazing­ – she whispers to herself looking away only when she hears the sound of flapping wings. – Wait, is that a Gargoyle?! - Once again, the girls gasps in admiration. For a moment all of her thoughts but the delight gone. Just for a moment though, as she quickly regain herself.

-Where the heck am I? – she wonders frowning.

Part 3 coming soon :)

Edit: part 3 is up here

taglist (is open) @marvelsmylife @wickedly-grim @thereeallink

@lisacarolined @boofy1998 @endlessdreamqueen @mikariell95

[barry-j-blupjeans]

11/14 with the twins?

11. Do I actually have to swear a blood pact for this?

--

There were many conversations one could have in the kitchen at half past two AM. Lots of heartful moments, a ton of weird, goofy, and maybe like, a smidge sexy times. Mostly, it's quiet words exchanged between the noise of a boiling teapot and the kitchen tap running as someone washed dishes. Mostly, there are no words, just company.

A few nights ago had not been that. A few nights ago, Taako tried to sleep for a total of five minutes before deciding that, actually, fuck this, and went to make himself some eggs. Lup didn't even move in her sleep as he hopped off the upper bunk and left the room. The kitchen light had already been turned on and Taako walked in on Magnus attempting to fix their microwave (it hadn't been broken).

Lots of conversations can happen at two AM. Taako was expecting a "hey" or a "what the fuck" or a momentary reenactment of that spiderman meme where two identical spiderman's pointed at each other. Instead, he cracked an egg open into a pan and was met with,

"Is it just me or has Lup been acting... strange?"

"Just you, homie," Taako had said.

"Ah," Magnus had said. That would have been a neat place to end the conversation, but instead, he continued with, "because like, we were hanging out and having fun and stuff, and then Barry came back from- from wherever the fuck he went with Lucretia-"

"Library."

"Right, the library. And then Lup was like. Not... Lup-like. Y'know?"

"I do not, in fact, know," Taako said.

And then he spent the next thirty minutes, diving a little too deep into what Magnus had noticed about Lup's body language (Taako never wanted to hear an analysis of how he and his sister interacted with people again. But he supposed being stuck on a spaceship with six other people tends to put you through the mortifying act of being known much more than you would like.) and her word choice and all of that and all Taako really got from it was "Magnus is a fucking creep who likes to watch us like a fucked up science experiment".

But now that it had been pointed out? Yeah. Yeah. Lup was acting weird. She would stop halfway through a conversation if Barry came into the room. And she seemed to go out of her way to avoid interacting with him directly. One day, they had been making dinner, and Lup straight up left the kitchen when Barry came in for something. Either they had somehow had a fight without anyone noticing or Lup had caught a bad case of Feelings. And Taako was pretty sure he'd know if Lup had gotten Feelings for Barry, so it had to have been a fight.

So, like any good brother, that also meant Taako was now Against Barry. Did he know what the fight was about? No. Did he care? Maybe a little bit. Barry had seemed chill but now Taako wasn't sure. Like, they were nineteen years into this and that might seem like a lot for some people (cough cough, Magnus), but that wasn't even a tenth of Taako and Lup's lifespan before the mission. Yeah, sure, he liked them well enough, but he was ride or die with Lup. But hopefully the dying wouldn't happen too much.

It was two weeks after his conversation with Magnus in the kitchen when Lup approached him. Or rather, Taako walked into their room and Lup immediately said,

"What the hell has your problem been with Barry lately?"

Taako paused. He shut the door. And then he turned back to Lup, squinting at her.

"What's been your problem with Barry lately?" Taako asked, because he wasn't going to rise to whatever bait this was.

"What's my prob- I'm not the one avoiding him!" Lup said. "You're making him feel weird!"

"I'm avoiding him because you're avoiding him, doofus," Taako said, calmly, like an adult. He sat on his bunk (the bottom one this week, as scheduled) and crossed his legs. Lup was sitting on top of the desk that was shoved into the corner, holding a notepad in her hands.

"I- what?" Lup said. "Since when was I avoiding Barry?"

"Since like, two weeks ago," Taako said. "Three weeks?" How long has Magnus said again? "Three weeks now."

"I have not-"

"You leave the room whenever he's there," Taako said, holding up a finger to start counting. "You talk weirdly to him. You've stopped looking at him-"

"'Cause he's weird," Lup said.

"Yeah, but he's been weird for the last twenty years, bud!" Taako said. "He's not gotten any weirder this cycle! The only thing I've seen him do is fuck with the robot parts and we're all doing that. I don't know what kind of fight you had but obviously, if you don't wanna be around Barry anymore, then we're not gonna hang around Barry anymore. The world can end as many times as it wants but we're still gotta be a team about things, dumbass. It's bond science, or whatever the fuck."

"What fight have I had with Barry?" Lup asked, looking genuinely confused now. "Did he- did he say I had a fight with him?"

"He-" Taako paused. Closed his mouth. "...No. But your avoiding him, so like, cha'boy assumed-"

"Babe, I didn't have a fight with Barry," Lup said with a little nervous laugh. "I just- y'know. He's weird."

"Again, Barold has been weird for much longer than we've known him," Taako said. "So if you're not avoiding him for it, then there's really no other- oh, shit."

"Taako," Lup said warningly.

"Oh, shit," Taako said. He slammed his hands down on the bed. "You caught Feeling for Barry!"

"Shh!!" Lup said, gesturing for him to be quieter.

"You've got romantic feelings towards Barold J. Bluejeans," Taako said. "D'you hear those words I just said? Do you know how fucking ridiculous that sounds? Like, what the fuck would that couple name even be-"

"Taako," Lup groaned, sinking into a heap on the desk.

"Barup," Taako said. "Larry."

"Taako."

"Blupjeans."

"Taako!" Lup was now sliding off the desk, her head in her hands. "Shut the fuck up!"

"I think this is the best day of my life," Taako said. "You've got feelings for the guy who keeps getting his fingers burned by the toaster."

"It's a hard toaster to navigate-" Lup started.

"Do you even hear yourself right now?" Taako said, absolutely delighted. "Lup, be honest, are you avoiding him because you've forgotten how to talk to him like a normal person? Does talking to the guy who dresses in the same stupid outfit every day make you embarrassed?"

"I hate your fucking guts," Lup said. "You can't tell anyone- I'm gonna make you take a blood pact-"

"Lup, I rolled a nineteen, you gotta tell me," Taako said, climbing off the bed to sit next to her on the floor. "It's important. What the hell about that man is attractive to you? I mean, the ass, obviously-"

"Gods, the ass," Lup sighed. "In those jeans."

"Lup," Taako begged, on the brink of laughter. "You gotta be goofing me. You gotta be."

"But you've seen the ass," Lup said, as if that explained everything. Maybe it did. "Like, you've seen the ass-"

"Too many times," Taako said. "I want my eyes removed from my skull."

"Yeah," Lup said dreamily. Taako was going to lord this over her for years. A crush on Barry Bluejeans, good gods. She's had space madness. Taako was going to ride this serotonin into cycle twenty.

"...Do I actually have to take a blood pact for this, though?" Taako asked. "Like, I'm not gonna tell everyone-" Just Magnus, to prove him wrong that they hadn't been fighting, thank you very much. And Davenport, for like, mission safety. And Lucretia, so she could accurately write their interaction down. And maybe Merle, too, actually-

Maybe Magnus had been right about this body language stuff. Taako had got to get more dets from him later.

[sassy-ahsoka-tano]

Smoke & Whiskey

Character/Fandom: Elvis + B.B. King - Elvis (2022)

Requested: yes - multiple nonnies

Prompt: You just came to get away from it all and do some dancing with your best friends, Elvis and B.B. You figure you're safe with them and are looking forward to relaxing. Little do you know what the boys have planned for you. [ Fem!Reader ]

TW: this is a threesome and PWP so...beware there's a lot going on lmfao

Rating: M   ||     Word Count: 6514

A/N: HAPPY THIRSTY THURSDAY BABES!!! it's finally HERE! this was a joy to write 🥴 the alternative title was "Let It All Hang Out" but i just couldn't bring myself to seriously name it that jsfksjsj

🦋 mila

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

You just came to get away from it all. You wanted to dance, to relax, let loose, and not think about everything going on at home or at work. You had no interest in doing anything other than that. You thought you’d be safe when you called up your best friends, Elvis and B.B. Yeah, Elvis Presley and B.B. King. You thought they’d be chill, cool with just hanging out at Club Handy on Beale Street. Little did you know the night you were in for when you ran out of the house and hopped into the back of Elvis’ shiny purple Cadillac.

By the time you’ve arrived at the Club, it’s late, so late that almost no one is left wandering the dark streets. You jumped out of the car and are halfway toward the door to the Club before Elvis even turns the car off. He and B.B. follow at your heels, far enough behind you that you can’t hear what they're saying. You swing open the door and bound up the stairs, knowing that bliss and relaxation are only moments and steps away.

As soon as you burst into the bar, your nostrils are filled with familiar scents and you smile. Woody cigarette smoke mixes with the fruity, acidic notes from the Club’s famous whiskey. The room is warm, the soft orange lights turned down low so that they cast a muted glow over the space. There are only a few people wandering about the room or sitting at the tables. It’s fairly quiet, aside from a young woman who plays a slow, sad tune on the piano.

Everything about the setting is comfortable, familiar, homey.

You walk straight up to the bar and order a whiskey. When it’s slid across the mahogany table toward you, you take only a couple of swigs before placing it back down still half-full. You aren’t really interested in drinking. You want to be drunk, yes, but not on alcohol. You want to be drunk on music, on song. You crave freedom, the kind only music could bring you.

And that craving drives your body straight onto the small wooden dance floor next to the piano. Once the woman playing notices your intrusion, she smiles and changes the tune to a more upbeat one. You flash a grin back at her before closing your eyes and heaving a deep breath as you listen to the beat of the song, pacing out a rhythm. Within a matter of seconds, you feel your body moving against your will.

All of your senses tune into your surroundings. You taste the stinging hint of alcohol on your tongue and lips. You smell the smoke as it swirls into the air from the embers of the cigarettes. You feel the cold wind as it floats through the open window to ghost and tickle past your skin. You hear the mellow tinkling of the piano as it weaves a wordless story. And that story plays in your mind, in front of the silver screen of your closed eyes, as your body acts out the parts.

You lift your arms up toward the sky, flexing and curling your fingers to feel how they cut through the air with ease, and then bring your fingertips down against your skin and onto the soft cotton fabric of your dress. Your body jumps with a start, your eyelashes fluttering and threatening to open when you feel a pair of hands gripping around your waist. But the voice which accompanies the sensation soothes your startled body and your eyes remain closed.

“Hi gorgeous,” is all he has to say for you to recognize B.B. standing behind you.

Truth be told, he probably didn’t have to say anything at all. You know the touch of those hands. Intimately. And your body fills with a selfish warmth at the feeling of their return.

“Hi,” you respond in a hushed tone, just loud enough for him to hear you over the sound of the music.

You feel B.B.’s fingers tighten around your hip bones as he pulls you closer to his body. Your arms, still up in the air, drop back onto his shoulders, resting gently on his strong figure. He gently uses his jaw and chin to push your head to the side, exposing your neck to him. You allow him to move you, caught up in the sensations of the moment. You feel his calloused fingers as they gently glide against your skin to slide the strap of your dress down over your shoulder. Your hips move against him to the beat of the song. The whiskers on his chin and upper lip lightly scratch at your skin as he rests his hot lips on your shoulder. He doesn’t press them, just lets them hover above you. The hairs on your arms raise and you shudder, though you aren’t sure if it’s because of his touch or the cold breeze blowing through the window.

You instinctually press your body further back into him, arching your back ever so slightly. You feel the vibrations of his content hum on your shoulder and find yourself smiling with your tongue between your teeth. His hand travels around your waist to press into the sensitive skin on your stomach. You suck in a breath as he applies pressure. His movements force your bum even further back into him, and your breath hitches at the feeling of his hard dick on your skin.

Just as you move to pull away, your eyes fly open to see that Elvis has joined you. His hands take the place of B.B.’s on your waist as he steps closer to you. Before you can even react, he’s leaning down toward you. You can feel the heat of his breath on your skin, the sweet smell of Pepsi-Cola on his lips.

"I missed you," Elvis whispers onto your skin and you sigh in response.

You gaze up into his beautiful sea blue eyes and reach one of your hands out to cup his cheek. Just as your fingers ghost over his skin, he turns his head and takes your finger into his mouth.

Your own lips pop open in surprise. Your heart beats quicker as you feel his tongue swirling around your fingertip and you watch as his lips curl back in a smirk. He squeezes his teeth gently on your skin at the exact moment B.B. pulls your body harshly against his. Without meaning to, you yelp and tilt your head back. You've danced with both B.B. and Elvis at the same time before. But never like this, never so...physical.

Heat immediately floods throughout your body with embarrassment. Despite the throbbing deep in your stomach and the excited pulse of your heart pounding in your chest, you feel an intense urge to pull away. You want to wiggle out from under their grasp. Everything is getting too real, much too real.

But just as you’re about to attempt an escape, Elvis’ fingers hook onto your jawline. He pulls your face around to look at him and grips onto the bones. Your breath stops and you stare up at him with wide eyes, waiting for him to do something but he just smirks down at you with eyes clouded by lust. You're already starting to leak onto your panties, your entire pussy swollen and tense.

Elvis gently maneuvers your head to the side, bringing his lips to your neck. B.B. removes his head and places his cheek next to your ear, his hot breath drifting over the skin. You can feel his hips gently moving against you and your body intuitively matches the expert movement of his hips. It feels wrong and strange but your body reacts quicker than your mind, encouraging their behavior. You feel your eyes involuntarily fluttering closed when Elvis nips at the skin of your neck.

Suddenly, the air is cold around you and all the sensations you’d been drinking in are gone. Your eyes flash back open in shock and you glance around, oddly panicked, to see B.B. and Elvis standing side-by-side facing you. They glance at each other for a quick moment as your eyebrows furrow in confusion. Before you have a chance to ask them what’s going on, they each grab one of your hands and begin to pull you away. You follow blindly, desperate to see where they’re taking you.

They drag you down the stairs and into a small room on the ground floor. Elvis holds the door while B.B. leads you inside. Once you step in, you observe the room. It’s empty aside from a random desk with a few chairs gathered around it and a cabinet in the back stuffed too full with what looks like janitorial supplies. B.B. releases your hand to allow you to get your bearings in the room. Once you’ve understood where you are, you turn and cross your arms against your chest.

“Alright, what gives fellas? Why are we all in the janitor’s closet?” you ask with a quirked eyebrow.

“I think it’s pretty obvious what we’re doin,” Elvis replies.

You shrug and shake your head, throwing your arms up.

“You. We’re doin you, babe,” B.B. explains.

You just stare at them for a moment, too surprised to do anything else. But after your brain is finally able to wrap itself around the concept, you can’t help but burst out laughing. You assume it's a joke, at first. They can't seriously be suggesting it. The sounds that escape you aren’t just giggles or chuckles. They’re full-on cackles, wracking your entire body and making your shoulders shake until your stomach aches. You place a hand on the corner of the table to stabilize yourself as you slowly stop laughing.

“What the hell are you talking about?” you finally ask, wiping a tear from your eye.

Neither of them answers but since you’ve been talking, they’ve started to walk toward you. And, now, they’re flanking you, B.B. to your right and Elvis to your left. Your smile suddenly falls from your face as you glance up at one and then at the other. They can’t be serious…right? Sex between three people is nothing but a myth to you, something you'd heard passed around during high school gossip. But no one respectable actually partakes in that...do they?

“How bout a lil less conversation,” Elvis whispers against your skin, sending shivers down your body. “And a lil more action.”

"Ooh, I like the sound of that, EP," B.B. responds, running his finger up your arm. You shudder again, goosebumps raising on your bare arms. "You should use that for a song."

You have a history with them both, B.B. and Elvis. You’d lived in Memphis for your entire life and grew up around Beale Street. You met Elvis way before he was famous when he was just a truck driver for an electric company. You had some kind of problem with your refrigerator and the company sent him. You were more than shocked when you opened the door to see such a handsome young man standing on the other side of it. He'd charmed his way into your life extremely quickly, cracking jokes and being a true southern gentleman the entire time he was at your house. He'd absentmindedly started singing and you were enchanted by Elvis' voice. Apparently, he’d noticed and he continued to visit you, whether you were having electrical problems or not. You were together for two years before you decided to break up. Part of you still loved him very much, but there was a distance that had grown between you.

B.B. was a different story. You’d met him randomly on the street one day. Neither of you was paying attention or looking where you were going and you’d rammed right into each other. He was a very charming gentleman, helping you pick up all the things you’d dropped and offering you a cold drink inside Club Handy. You were hooked on the place from the day he'd shown it to you. You spent all day there together, listening to music and swapping stories. By the time you left, it’d been late at night and he didn’t feel comfortable letting you walk home alone, so he’d walked with you. And, suffice it to say, he didn’t just kiss you at the door. There was a lot more than kissing that happened that night.

In summary...you’ve had sex with both of them, but never at the same time. You’ve never had sex with any two people at the same time. How does that even work? It sounds like a sin. But you don’t have much time to think about it, because they start in on you. Like predators to prey.

B.B.’s fingers trail up your arm, tracing the skin so lightly that yet another shiver ricochets through your body. On the other side, Elvis brushes your hair out of the way so he can access your neck. He grabs onto your jaw again, pushing your face to the side. You allow them both to maneuver you, your body reacting in approval of their actions although your mind isn't totally sure. Elvis’ lips slowly move to your neck and he presses a soft, hot kiss to the skin. You resist the urge to close your eyes or sigh contentedly. Besides you’re much too distracted by B.B. as he takes your face from Elvis’ grasp. His soft hand slides onto your cheek, holding your gaze on his own. His deep brown eyes are glinting in the low lighting of the room as he smirks down at you. He sneaks a quick look at your lips before moving his face down toward you.

You prepare for a kiss, but he plants his lips ever so slightly to the side of your mouth, catching only the corner. You gasp in surprise, releasing the breath you’d been holding. He smirks at you again as you huff in frustration.

"That's not very gentlemanly of you," you whisper against his lips and he chuckles.

But your interaction is cut short when Elvis drags his hot tongue up the side of your neck. You feel your amused expression fall from your face, replaced with raised eyebrows and widened eyes. B.B. pulls your face up to his, finally pressing his lips on yours. Without a choice, your eyes flutter closed and you sigh into the kiss, loving the feeling of his plump lips on yours and the familiar way his thumb brushes soothingly against your cheekbone.

Your hands reach up to slide around his neck, gripping onto him and attempting to pull yourself closer. But B.B. pulls away, your lips separating with a satisfying pop before he reangles his face to kiss you again, harder this time. Both of his hands grip your cheeks, holding you hostage in his grasp. He kisses you passionately, desperately, sloppily. You feel your body being pulled toward him until Elvis’ teeth tug at your neck. You move away from B.B., gasping at the sensation. Elvis begins to suck and bite at the skin, moving to hit the most sensitive parts under your ear and by the corner of your jaw. You gasp, throwing your head back with closed eyes and holding white-knuckled onto the table behind you.

B.B. takes the opportunity to attack the front of your neck. You can feel yourself fall back onto the table, your knees buckling with shock. You rest your bum on the corner of the table as both men suck and bite mercilessly on your skin. Elvis gently moves the other strap of your dress out of the way and bites down hard on the sensitive skin between your shoulder and neck. You can’t help yourself, you let out a moan as one of your hands flies to latch onto his greasy black locks. You tug hard on the hair and Elvis moans into your skin. Your other hand slides onto B.B.’s back, gripping onto the fabric of his shirt. B.B. suddenly pulls back and your eyes flash open in momentary anger at the movement.

You watch hungrily, biting your lip as he yanks his top off, revealing his gorgeously toned chest and stomach. You don’t even try to stop your eyes as they search down his figure. Elvis bites hard onto your skin again and you moan, keeping your eye contact with B.B.

“Fuck,” B.B. mutters before taking a step back to you and grabbing harshly onto your face.

He kisses you again, his lips pressed hard down onto yours. You let your fingers trail down his chest, gliding over all the flexed muscles and hot skin. When you reach the waistband of his pants, you hook a finger under them and pull him closer to you. His lips slip off yours and he grunts before smirking down at you.

Finally, Elvis releases your neck and you automatically turn to look at him. His blue eyes are black, his lips wet with saliva, and his hair is mussed from your fingers disturbing it. You can practically feel the desire in your chest and let your eyes travel down his figure with an open mouth. You turn toward him, grabbing onto his shirt and pulling him to you. Your bodies slam together and his hands automatically move to slide around your waist. You smash your lips onto his, adding his taste to B.B.’s on your lips.

Elvis’ hand slides over your ass and he squeezes his fingers into the skin. You moan into his mouth as he slips his tongue over your bottom lip. You smile into the kiss and open your mouth, feeling his tongue with your own. He presses you back against the table and your hands wind around his neck to keep you from falling. But it only lasts for a moment before he swings you around and begins to walk you backward. You stumble along, tugging at his hair again. You accidentally pull so hard that your lips separate and he releases a noise halfway between a growl and a grunt.

“Lord almighty,” he chuckles and you giggle breathlessly.

He leans down to kiss you again, wasting no time inserting his tongue between your lips. You quietly moan into the kiss again as his fingers curl into your ass, pushing your chest into his. You’re jerked to a stop when you hit B.B.’s body with your back. You feel his fingers deftly unzipping the back of your dress. When the cold air hits your back, you shiver. B.B. runs his warm palms down your back, tracing your spine, and you arch your back, pressing your chest further into Elvis and your ass further into B.B.

You pull your mouth away from Elvis, desperately in need of air. You hold your shoulders back so Elvis can slide the dress off your arms, leaving just the skirt portion covering your body. B.B. quickly and smoothly slides that skirt down your hips and it falls to the ground below you.

Elvis’ hands immediately land on your thighs, hoisting you up onto his hips. You wrap your legs around him momentarily while he lays you on the table in the middle of the room. You prop yourself up on your elbows and watch greedily as Elvis removes his shirt. You bite your lip through a smirk as your eyes flick back and forth between the two handsome half-naked men in front of you. Your chest fills with panic as you realize, for the first time, that you want them both. You need them both. It feels so wrong but that only makes you want it more.

It only takes one look between them before they take their positions. You momentarily wonder if they’ve done this before by how wordless their agreements seem to be. B.B. grabs onto your ankles, pulling you so that your legs are dangling off the edge of the table. Then, he crouches, holding your foot and stretching out your leg so that he can unlatch your heels and remove your socks. He does the same with the other foot, this time gently pressing kisses to your ankle and up your shin, onto your knee, and then the skin of your thigh.

While B.B. works his warm hands and mouth around your leg, Elvis circles so that he’s standing behind you. He sits next to you on the side of the table, slightly behind you. He moves your hair out of the way and begins to kiss up your neck. His fingers start on your lower back, the calloused skin scratching you delightfully. He slides his fingers up your back slowly, his palms warming your cold skin. His mouth trails up your skin as he presses hot, wet kisses to your neck and jaw and ear.

B.B.’s kisses turn into little nips and sucks as he moves closer to where you need him most. You arch your back as he tugs on the skin inside your thigh. He glances up at you, smirks, and pulls on the skin again. You bite your lip, feeling Elvis hovering by your jawline.

"Have you two done this before or something?" you ask breathlessly, glancing between them.

Neither answers with words, but B.B. smirks up at you and Elvis nips at your ear. You take that as a yes.

B.B. hooks his fingers around the waistband of your panties and you lift your hips so that he can slide them off. He drops them on the ground, curling his hands around your inner thighs to gently spread your legs.

“Such a pretty pussy, baby,” B.B. says, glancing up at you before he runs a finger up your folds.

You suck in a breath and close your eyes in pleasure.

“Ah, you like that, don’t you, love? I remember you liked it when I teased you,” B.B. continues and you hiss out a chuckle as he runs his fingers down the slick skin again.

"Yeah, she's a bad girl who likes to be punished, dontcha little one?"

As B.B. wastes a few more minutes, teasingly running his middle finger up and down your clit to spread your wetness around, Elvis gets busy removing your last remaining piece of clothing. Between kisses, Elvis' teeth sink into your shoulder, a little hard but the pain is pleasurable. His fingers tickle your upper back as he unlatches your bra and runs his hands over the free, naked skin. You hum in pleasure as B.B. finally inserts his finger into your folds. Elvis slides the straps of your bra off your shoulders, opening you up completely to them both.

You probably would have been extremely embarrassed had you not already fucked both of them at one time or another. Conveniently, that experience gives all three of you the upper hand. You know what everyone likes and what they’re good at. And you know their dirty little secrets. For example, B.B. is a tease who knows how to use his fingers and tongue in ways that make you see stars. Elvis, on the other hand, fucks you like you’re the only person in the world who matters, the only one he sees.

Elvis gently leans you back onto the table as B.B. begins to pump his finger in and out of your wet pussy. You rest your feet on his shoulders, curling your toes into the warm skin as he inserts another finger and then another. While B.B. fingerfucks you, Elvis leans over you, pressing his soft lips to yours. You reach up to cup his face, although since he’s upside down, you wind up grasping onto his jawline and neck. B.B. curls his fingers inside you and you moan into Elvis’ mouth, bucking your hips up. Elvis’ lips slip off yours and he trails his flaming tongue down your chin and neck and onto your chest. He takes one of your breasts in his hand, massaging the sensitive skin. The cold temperature of the room has already prepped your nipples for him.

Elvis’ fingers dig into your skin, his hand large enough to grasp your entire breast. As he leans over you, your hands slide down his torso feeling all of the muscles on his stomach and the hair on his chest. Meanwhile, B.B.’s fingers, coated with your juices, push in and out of you and build on the pressure in your stomach. He slides his fingers out and drops to his knees, leaning forward to nip at the inside of your thigh. You gasp as he releases the skin and kisses dangerously close to your pussy. Elvis moves his mouth to take your nipple between his teeth, tugging on it. You wriggle underneath them both, needing more. You glance down at B.B. through Elvis’ arm to see him gazing up at you as he swipes his tongue up your slit.

You shudder under the sensation, moaning through a lip bite and curling your nails into Elvis’ sides. B.B. does it again in sync with Elvis who wraps his lips around your nipple, sucking it and releasing it with a loud pop. You moan in response, your eyes fluttering closed again. Finally, B.B. gives in, clutching hard onto your thighs as his tongue swirls around your clit and darts into your folds. You buck your hips toward him and he sucks on your clit, moving to reinsert his fingers into you. You moan in pleasure at the sensations building on each other. Elvis is busy at work, massaging your breast and licking, biting, and sucking your nipple. You can feel it growing sore but you don’t want him to stop as the pressure builds throughout your entire body.

“Fuck you have nice tits, mama,” Elvis breathes, licking another stripe up your breast.

You giggle and gasp, a drunk smile plastered on your face. B.B.’s fingers pump in and out of you faster and faster and your moans respond to his actions. One of your hands flies down and tangles into his hair, yanking on it as his head bobs up and down on your slit. He intertwines his fingers in yours and squeezes hard for a moment before releasing you. Your hands immediately travel back up to Elvis' pants and you toy with the waistband, unbuttoning his pants and undoing the zipper to slide your fingers across his hard member inside his underwear. You drag a finger up his length and hear Elvis hum on your nipple. You groan in disappointment as B.B. pulls away and Elvis releases your nipple.

Elvis smirks down at you, and you watch him above you as he drops his pants to the ground. You feel B.B. grab ahold of your wrists and look down at him. He pulls you to standing and you whimper at the feeling of your incredibly sensitive pussy lips touching, B.B.’s penetration leaving its mark. B.B. pulls you toward him, wrapping his arms around your waist and leaning down to kiss you harshly. You grasp onto his biceps, moaning at the way they flex under your fingers. You yelp and your eyes fly open when you feel Elvis behind you, running his hands down the front of your thighs. You can feel his dick pressing into your back, the warm skin telling you that he's gotten undressed already.

You pull back from B.B. with a smirk and glare up into his eyes mischievously. You turn him and push gently so that he’s backing up into the table. The backs of his thighs hit the corner and you roughly push him down onto it. He gets comfortable on top, his legs hanging off the side of the table. You lean over the table to allow Elvis access to your swollen pussy. Bent at the waist, you glance back at Elvis over your shoulder to see his eyes trained on your ass. His head is tilted and his eyes are clouded with lust. You bite your lip and arch your back to accentuate the shape of your ass for him. His hand ghosts over the skin and squeezes it hard as you hook your fingers into B.B.’s boxers and slide them down his legs.

"Damn girl, you're doin so good tonight," B.B. says, brushing some hair from your shoulder.

You glance up at him and you can only imagine how lust-filled you look. You can practically feel the desire dripping from your expression as you drag a finger up his hard length. He twitches and breathes deeply, his eyes caught in yours. You run a tongue over your teeth and gently lick the tip of his dick, the salty precum sticking to your tongue. B.B.'s stomach contracts and you smirk. He liked that, you remember.

Elvis’ hands are on your hips, massaging the skin as he gives himself a few pumps before thrusting into you. You take B.B.’s tip in your mouth and hum into it as Elvis slides his dick into your tight pussy.

“Holy shit, Y/N,” B.B. whispers, throwing his head back in pleasure.

Elvis pauses, giving you a minute to adjust but wastes no time when you buck your hips back into him. He places a hand on your back to keep you both stable as he begins to thrust in and out of your folds.

You take the tip of B.B.’s dick into your mouth again, glancing up at him as you moan through Elvis’ thrusts. B.B.'s head is leaned back as he groans with an open mouth. You start to bob your head up and down, falling into rhythm with Elvis' thrusts. You don’t have to do much work. With the force of Elvis’ body slamming against yours, he pushes B.B.’s dick further and further down your throat. Your cheeks hollow as you suck on B.B., curling your fingers around his length and pumping him with your hand as well. As Elvis moves in and out of you, your eyes shut tightly and your moans grow higher and higher, louder and louder.

“Goddamn, baby girl, look at you takin me so good,” Elvis mutters from behind you and you whimper. “Oh, shit, baby…fuck.”

Elvis rams hard into you and you release B.B.'s dick, a string of spit stretching out as you grip onto the table to keep yourself steady enough for Elvis to continue. Your fingers stay wrapped around B.B., pumping him the best you can as your legs start to shake.

You release a high-pitched moan and glance back at Elvis, whose face is red and screwed up in a mixture of pleasure and pain as he fucks you hard from behind. Your fingers slip from B.B.'s dick and he intertwines his fingers into yours instead, the wet precum and spit mixing on your palms. As Elvis slams mercilessly into you again, you bite onto the skin of your shoulder.

Elvis slides out of you, leaving you sore and needing more. As he steps away, you can feel your legs threatening to give out. B.B. frantically takes hold of your arm, gently helping you up to a standing position.

“I gotcha, love, I gotcha," he says.

You smile at him, thankful for his help.

“My turn,” B.B. says with a smirk and a wink.

He pinches your chin between his fingers as you heave breaths, your chin pointed outward towards him and your eyes glazed over with pleasure. B.B. glances down at your lips and then releases your face.

Elvis climbs onto the table and you stumble over toward him. He helps lift you onto the table and you straddle him, lowering yourself down onto your elbows beside his head. He reaches up to brush some matted hair from your cheeks and forehead.

“You good baby?” he asks as he tucks some hair behind your ear.

You nod, breathless, and he cups your cheek offering a handsome smile. You gently touch his cheek and then run a hand through his hair, the sweat on his forehead making your fingers sticker than they already are.

“How you feeling, sugar?” B.B. asks from behind and you laugh at the fact that Elvis just asked you the same question.

“Great, baby. Go when you’re ready,” you respond, taking a deep breath.

Elvis nods encouragingly at you and winks. You giggle and bite your lip before leaning down to press your lips to his. You kiss him sweetly.

You feel B.B.’s hands as they gloss over the skin of your ass, and you lean down to kiss Elvis again. Elvis’ hands rest near your ribcage, his thumbs gently stroking your skin. He runs his tongue over your bottom lip and you open your mouth for him, welcoming his tongue with pleasure. B.B. inserts what feels like two fingers into you, curling them inside your body. Apparently, he remembers you really like that.

"You're so fucking loose sugar," B.B. says. "That pretty pussy is begging for us both, isn't it?"

You moan against Elvis’ lips, thankful for more contact on your aching core. You can feel your body react immediately, your back arching and ass sticking higher into the air as it pleads with B.B. to continue. He removes his fingers and chuckles before you feel a painful slap on your ass. Your eyes flash wide and your body jerks forward against Elvis.

"Hey!" you joke, glancing over your shoulder at B.B. You bite your lip in pleasure and return to Elvis as B.B. smacks your ass again.

This time, you stay connected to Elvis' lips but giggle onto them with pleasure. B.B.’s long fingers grip the skin of your ass once more before he begins to push himself into you. You whimper, your lips slipping from Elvis’.  He takes the opportunity to angle his head so that he can suck on your nipple above him. You gasp as his teeth tug on the sensitive nerves. To return the favor, you reach down with one of your hands, dragging a finger along his length. Elvis sighs in contentment, smirking up at you. You return the expression and bring your fingers up to your tongue, spitting on the fingertips before returning to curl them around his dick.

He runs his palms through his hair, his biceps flexing as he heaves out a deep breath. He returns to your nipple, wrapping his fingers around the skin to massage it while he licks and sucks on it. You continue to pump him as B.B. slides in and out of you, slowly but deeply. You're almost sure that you’re taking all of his length with every thrust.

You can feel the sticky sweat of your body clinging to Elvis, the cold air freezing the wet skin in the pits of your elbows and knees. You rock your body back into B.B.. The air is filled with sounds of slapping skin, heavy breathing, pleasure-filled moaning, and the faint sound of music from upstairs. You glance over your shoulder at B.B. to see his eyebrows furrowed and lips hanging deliciously open in pleasure. He gazes across your back at you with dark eyes and smirks, leaning the top half of his body down to kiss you. You sloppily press your lips to his, just once, before he returns to drill into you again.

B.B. angles his dick a slightly different way to hit your g-spot and you yelp, your elbows starting to shake with your weight. He rams into you again and you can feel your body beginning to fail. You release Elvis' dick because you physically can't keep going anymore. His hands help to lower you all the way down onto him, your fingers digging into his chest as you rest your forehead between his pecks. He reaches one of his arms down to pump himself and his other hand curls around your shoulder, securing your body tightly against his. Your eyes squeeze closed and your forehead creases with the mixture of pain and pleasure. Your moans sound more like whines now as the pressure continues to build. You can feel the wave starting to crash. The sound of you, B.B. and Elvis all moaning in sync only contributes to the sensation.

You bite down hard onto Elvis’ skin as your back arches with pleasure. You release a long, loud moan as your hips buck up and down while you ride B.B. through your orgasm. Your teeth release Elvis’ skin and he grunts and strains. You can feel warm liquid on your stomach and realize that Elvis has finished himself off. The waves of pleasure overlap one another, shuddering through your body before slowing down and coming to a stop. B.B. pulls out of you with a groan and a release of breath.

You rest, motionless, on Elvis’ stomach with your eyes closed. You heave breaths, a goofy smile spreading across your face as you drink in the pleasure you just experienced. B.B. pulls up a chair near the table and falls into it, running a hand over his sweaty face. You open your eyes to glance over at him and he smiles. You return it, lifting your head to check on Elvis. He’s staring straight up at the ceiling, breathing heavily but looking fulfilled.

You break the silence by giggling, softly at first and then louder and louder until your shoulders are shaking with laughter. Elvis and B.B. join in with a few chuckles before you all grow silent to catch your breaths again. Gathering as much energy as you can, you gently lower yourself off of Elvis and onto the ground, your legs vibrating with the pressure.

“Ooh…” you say, wincing. "My legs feel like noodles."

“You alright doll?” B.B. asks, flying to his feet to help you. You laugh and nod.

“Never been better, although I could use a shower," you wave B.B. off but he remains standing near you. "And hey! How long have you two been planning this?"

The two men exchange a look before breaking out into breathless chuckles. You glance from Elvis to B.B., taking in how beautifully handsome they both are. You quirk an eyebrow, awaiting your deserved answer.

"Oh from the moment we realized you was the same girl," Elvis responds with a smirk. "Me and B.B. got to talkin and it didn't take long for us to realize we'd both slept with ya before."

"You talked about me behind my back?"

"All good things, love," B.B. replies, throwing his hands up defensively. "With the way you move, there ain't nothin bad to say about you. Besides, I think this worked out pretty well.

“Oh hell yeah. You a natural at this, baby girl,” Elvis adds with a smirk.

You shake your head and roll your eyes. Silence settles again as you glance at each other. You wonder what happens now. When neither of them says anything, you sigh and shrug.

“Well, come here and help me clean up, handsome. Then you can take me home,” you say, gesturing to yourself with your fingers. They glance at each other and back to you.

"Uh...which one of us?” Elvis asks.

You smirk.

“Both.”

─────•~❉᯽❉~•─────

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[bastillewolf]

Shinigami Eyes (II)

Pairing: Corpse Husband / Reader

Summary: After you distastefully kill Corpse in a game of Among Us, he wants you to make it up to him and invites you to come over for the week.

Notes: Thank you so much for the love on the previous chapter, I’ve never gotten this many notes before. I hope you enjoy, and maybe leave an ask if you want to? I can’t promise I have time to do them, but I’ll pick out a couple.

Also, I might rewrite this. I kinda rushed it because I wanted to finish it by tonight, but there will be a final and third chapter to this afterwards. Please do let me know what you think.

Tag list CLOSED!

Shinigami Eyes - Pt. II

5… 4… 3… 2… 1…

Impostor

You were teamed up with Sean.

Your fist violently slammed down on the desk. “Goddammit! I don’t want to be impostor anymore! This game has no compassion for my poor nerves.” It was the third time in a row now, and you were really craving to do normal tasks now without all the scheming. “Fuck it, I don’t care if they kill me. I’m just gonna do my thing without thinking about it.”

You decide to follow Toast for a bit to watch him do some task. You kill him in Laboratory. You vent back to Launchpad and take your time walking towards MedBay while the kill button restores. You meet up with Corpse, and follow him while pretending to do wires in the Y-hallway. You watched the green bar go up, and continued. Sabotaging and then fixing lights, you made sure your place with Corpse was settled. Then the body of Lily was reported.

As you expected, Corpse easily vouched for you as he’d seen you do a task. The round was skipped, though Rae was sussed for ‘chasing’ Sean, by his own words.

“Corpse, you’ve grown weak,” you muttered to chat.

You were in Greenhouse, and decided it would be best to kill him there and sabotage Reactor. “Sorry baby, but I can’t keep following you around.” You quickly set off Reactor and murdered him in front of the plants. “Your blood shall keep the plants hydrated.” You did an evil laugh. “Pretty sure that’s not how it works, though.”

You vented down to MedBay and as you walked out you met up with Rae. She’d be the vouch who would confirm you weren’t anywhere near Greenhouse. “I’ll just have to fix my own sabotage so they’ll never suspect me.” You helped her with the handprint, and noted Sykkuno and Felix being there. Sean sabotaged lights, you killed Sykkuno, and ran out to follow Lily into Laboratory. Felix reported the body.

“Holy shit,” Rae gasped. So far, five people had died. You only needed to kill one more person. “It was Felix!”

“Wait, what?” the man in question asked. “I was fixing Reactor!”

She mentioned that only you, Sykkuno, Felix and herself had been there and that you’d helped her do handprint. “Sykkuno must have fixed it, and then you killed him!”

Sean asked if you’d seen anything.

“No, the lights were out. I followed Rae into Laboratory after the scan.” Your voice didn’t tremble or raise, a tactic you’d taken up from the best lair in the group. Well, the one who was now dead. Oops. “I haven’t seen Felix this entire game, though.”

He was evidently at a loss for words, so the group was quick to vote for him.

Pewds was ejected.

Victory.

You thanked Sean for a good game who was laughing his ass off. “I can’t believe you did Corpse like that! Poor guy!”

“I deadass thought you were innocent,” Corpse replied, “I’m hurt.”

“Why do you still sound dark and menacing when you say something like that?!”

You agreed with Sean heartily, “He’s just salty I’ve bested him at his own game.”

“Hey now, no need to actually insult me.”

The group laughed. You decided to call it for the night, right before Corpse did the same.”

 ***

He was calling you again. “What is it this time, you salty?”

“Salty? Nah, never,” he said, but you weren’t convinced.

“Then why you calling?”

“What, I can’t call my friends after playing a nice round of Among Us?”

“Not when you lost the game and you call the person who you lost to. Kinda sus, dude.”

“Alright, maybe a little salty.” You smirked.

“Aw, you need me to make it up to you?”

He laughed. “What did you have in mind?”

A bunch of thoughts, most not rated PG-13, crossed your mind. You were suddenly starting to feel uncomfortable. This was probably just something innocent, which got twisted in your fucked-up mind. You shrugged, “Uh… I don’t know.”

“I got an idea.”

“What is it?”

“Come over this week. You said you needed a break, right?”

“That sounds more like you’re doing me a favour instead of me making it up to you.”

“I don’t have any friends. You’d be making it up to me by being the first physical person here in years. I usually don’t invite people over.”

“Wow, I’m flattered. So, you don’t consider me to be your friend after all?”

“You know that’s not what I meant,” he chuckled.

“Sure, sure. Tell me that again when my presence suddenly brightens your life making you not want to get rid of me, ever.”

“I’ll keep it in mind.”

 ***

You walk through the gates following a hoard of people, all the while still feeling drowsy from not getting any sleep during your flight. At least you didn’t have any turbulence and landed safely. Glancing around here and there with no result, you figured Corpse would be waiting outside, until you spotted a figure clad in black a little ends away by the escalator. You were glad you were still awake enough to have found him, because he appeared to silently linger halfway behind a fern.

At least, you hoped it was him. The only indications were his clothes, mask and dark hair. You saw him run a hand through it, and identified the chipped black nail polish and familiar rings. Oh yea, that was him alright.

He seemed to be paying more attention to the floor until he saw two feet appear in his line of sight. “Hey,” you awkwardly greeted. A bit taken a back, he replied, “Oh, wow. Hey.” A mask was covering the bottom of his face, but as far as you could see his eyes were a very dark shade.

“Wow?” you repeated. He chuckled, scratching the back of his head. “Yea, sorry. It’s a compliment.” You held your elbow out in a safe-distance gestured hello, but he shrugged you off. “You’re gonna be staying with me anyways.” Suddenly in a daze, you felt him wrap his arms around your waist and instantly hugged him back. His baggy sweater felt warm and soft to the touch, and strands of hair tickled your face. You very much tried to repress your smile and blush, but how could you? Hugging someone wasn’t supposed to feel this good. When he pulled back he reached down to take your suitcase from you. “I don’t own a car, is it okay if we take a cab?”

“Y-Yeah, of course,” you stuttered, “But it’s on me. Same with food and stuff.” “Don’t worry about it,” he chuckled. “No, you’re letting me stay with you and a hotel would’ve been a lot more expensive than this. It’s my treat.” “Yeah, we’ll see.” He gave you a look and even with the mask you could tell he was smirking underneath it.

It’s about half an hour drive to his apartment complex, and it’s rather nice. “All that YouTube money paying off, huh?” you asked in amusement. “You’d know,” he replied. You insisted on carrying your suitcase up the stairs yourself, which he silently shook his head at, until after a few flights he noticed you struggling and settled on carrying the thing in between the two of you. “How many clothes did you bring?” “Oh, it’s mostly filled with bricks I might need to throw at your head.” He laughed at that.

His apartment was simple, but cosy. “Home sweet home,” he said, almost sarcastically. You furrowed your brow at him. “I’m sure you could’ve had it a lot worse.” He reluctantly agreed.

He helped you set down your luggage in what appeared to be his bedroom, where the curtains were still closed and the black bedsheets fresh. He had a few pieces of fanart up on his wall, and some on his closet. You turned to him and gave him a look. “You’re not sleeping on the couch.”

He quickly shook his head, “You’re not sleeping there. If you won’t let me sleep on the couch I’ll sleep on the floor.”

“If you’re sleeping on the floor, I’m sleeping on the floor.”

“Yeah, we’ll see about that,” he murmured. “What?” “Nothing.”

He suggested playing video games as you were both too tired to do anything else. You’d landed quite late yet were still confused about what time it actually was. Flying is weird. You hopped onto his couch and grabbed a controller.

He sat down next to you, but suddenly seemed tenser than before.

“You okay? You can just go to sleep if you want to.”

He shook his head, “Nah, I don’t sleep a lot. It’s fine.”

You didn’t stop looking at him, though. He was still wearing that mask. “You don’t have to take it off, if you don’t want to. I understand if it makes you uncomfortable.”

“It’s not that, I just…” He took a deep breath. You hadn’t expected him to take it off then and there. You stared at him, your mouth slightly agape, controller barely held by your numb hands.

“Disappointed?”

It was as if he was expecting you to make a face or something, but you didn’t give him anything, except for a blatant “Nope” and an “Are we gonna play now or what?”

“You don’t have anything else to say?”

You shrugged, and looked him up and down again. “You’re kind of what I imagined you to be.”

“What’s that?”

“Handsome.”

Neither of you could stop smiling for the rest of the night.

You eventually forced him to sleep in his own bed, even going as far as to shove him into the room and keep your weight against the door so he couldn’t get out, so he eventually relented. “Inviting you here was a mistake.” “How come? All I’ve done so far is look after you!” “You’re a nightmare.”

You mostly stayed in for the week, which you didn’t mind at all. Being in such a closed-off environment with someone you got along with was nice. He attempted to get you to lift the weights in his room and succeeded for around fifteen minutes until you nearly dropped a dumbbell on your foot. You ordered take-out from his favourite restaurant, watched horror movies until you adapted to his sleeping schedule because you were too scared to close your eyes now, and even streamed a bit together with your friends.

“Wait, is Corpse with you?” Rae had asked.

“No, I’m at Corpse’s. He’s sitting across from me so I can’t see his screen but we’re gonna have to share the Discord unless you want to hear an echo.”

“Ah, man! You got to see his face, too?” Sykkuno whined.

“Stop simping, Sykkuno. You get enough attention from him already.”

“Don’t worry, I still love you,” Corpse said.

“Huh?”

It was probably a good thing that you got teamed up again, because you could indeed start to see his hands shaking right as the word ‘impostor’ appeared on the screen. You reached over and stroked it with your thumb. He smiled gratefully back at you.

“Just please,” he pleaded later that day, “Sleep in the bed. If only for one night.”

“No. I’ve heard about and now seen your sleeping habits. If you take the couch you’re never going to get any sleep.” You made a real effort to show him how comfortable you were – even though your back had started to hurt already after the first night – by crawling underneath your blanket and rubbing your head into the soft pillow. He snorted.

Next thing, you feel yourself being lifted by an arm underneath your knees and one around your back. “Corpse! Put me the fuck down!” you shrieked. You knew he lifted weights, but how the hell did he still have the energy as an insomniac? He ungracefully dropped you onto the matrass and turned the lights off. “Good night.”

You quickly got hold of the back of his hoodie before he could leave and pulled. He fell down next to you with a low huff. “Fine, I’ll sleep in the bed. But only if you sleep here too.”

“I snore.”

“Don’t care.”

For some reason, there wasn’t any tension or awkwardness. You were comfortable, and the soft rhythm of his breathing seemed to soothe you. He called out your name, to see if you were still awake.

“Hm?”

“…Thanks for coming over.”

“Any time.”

This was how you would spend the rest of the nights, and whenever either of you woke up suddenly curled up around the other, you didn’t mention it or move away from it. It was the first time in years Corpse got a few nights of complete rest.

[skinnyducky]

good in bed // v.h.

Hey...how y’all doing? I have halfway recovered from my wisdom teeth surgery and I definitely was feeling a bit sad not posting and whatnot. But, here I am now, so I hope you enjoy this one. Pt. 3 to Party at Y/n’s is most likely coming Monday. And, Pt. 2 to Maneater is coming Wednesday (hopefully). Any who, hope you enjoy! Also, this is very much inspired by Dula Peep’s “Good in Bed.”

Word Count: 1336, edited 

WARNING: mentions of sex, arguing, angst, language, and i think that’s it.

---------

The start of yours and Vinnie’s relationship was like ice cream on hot summer day. It was sweet, it was refreshing, and it was much needed. After being cheated on by your ex, you needed to find something to bring the love back…and that’s exactly what Vinnie did. The two of you had met after accidentally buying the same car. You bickered and fought over the vintage vehicle before he ultimately decided to let you keep it…but only if you gave him your number. You happily did so and long story short, that led to a beautiful relationship…or at least what was a beautiful relationship.

As the relationship went on, you found that the so-called “honeymoon phase” was really just a phase. For you and Vinnie, it lasted for a least a good two weeks. What started as late night conversations before bed shifted into heated debates and hate-filled goodnights. The butterflies that fluttered around had died, and now your stomach was overflowed with enraged hornets. You didn’t know what was the cause of your downfall, and you weren’t even sure that there was anything that could fix it.

Well…you knew one thing that definitely fixed it: sex. The term “angry sex” seemed like a myth. You thought people were just overhyping it…until you were actually living it. You remember the first time it happened; you were pissed that he didn’t show up to dinner with your parents, while he was pissed because you hadn’t stopped yelling at him for a good hour. The two of you argued for hours, and as an attempt to get you to stop, Vinnie grabbed you by your waist and tossed you onto his bed. It was silent, the only sound being the heavy breathing from both of you. Next thing you know, the two of you are going at it.

Ever since then, that’s all you two did: fight and screw, then pretend like nothing ever happened. As nice as the sex was, it just was too toxic for you. You didn’t want to be stuck in an endless cycle and having to resort to sex to solve your problems. And also, you wanted Vinnie to know you for more than just your body. With that being said, you figured the solution to that was to communicate. Something you two did none of.

So, here you were in Vinnie’s room, sitting on his bed and waiting for him to finish streaming. While scrolling mindlessly through Instagram, you tried to figure out what the hell you were going to say. You didn’t know how to talk about your feelings, it was completely foreign to you. Ugh, this was going to be difficult.

“…I love you guys, bye chat.”

Vinnie stopped streaming and turned around in his seat to face you. You pursed his lips and started fiddling with his thumbs. “So, what did you wanna talk about?”

“I think you know.” You said, not meeting his eyes.

“Is this the talk? You’re breaking up with me aren’t you?”

You shook your head, laughing to yourself at the boy’s stupidity. “No, Vinnie…I’m not breaking up with you.”

“Then why does it feel like you are?”

“I promise, I’m not. I just wanna try to communicate, y’know. Like other couples do.��

He shrugged. “Don’t we already do that?”

“I wouldn’t necessarily call our exploration of each other’s bodies ‘communicating.’ Besides, you and I both know that our relationship isn’t the same as before. It’s like we’ve grown cold towards each other or something.”

“Is this because I forgot our anniversary?” He asked, leaning back in his chair.

You gave him a puzzled look for a minute, trying to figure out when your anniversary actually was. Had you forgot too? Damn, this relationship really was trash.

“Uhm, no…this isn’t about that. Although, we really need to mark our anniversary on our calendars.”

“Then what’s this about, Y/n?”

You sighed and stood up from your spot on his bed. You paced in front of him, trying to figure out the right words to say. “Vinnie…I’m tired. I’m tired of always arguing and then having angry sex…which is amazing, by the way.”

He squinted his eyes at you as he thought about what you said. “So…are you mad about the arguing or the sex?”

“Oh my god, why is this so hard?” you groaned. “I’m mad about all of it, Vin. I’m mad that we just can’t talk to each other. I’m mad that when we do have time together, we spend it arguing. I’m mad that the only way for us to enjoy each other’s company is to have sex. I’m just tired of it all.”

“Then, let’s just end the relationship.”

You stopped your pacing and stared at him with wide eyes. “I just told you I didn’t wanna break up.”

Vinnie chuckled, “I know that Y/n, but if you’re really feeling that way…then just leave.”

“I can’t believe what I’m hearing right now. You actually want to just break up? Aren’t you going to at least talk to me about what you’re feeling? Aren’t you gonna fight for us?”

“You wanna know what I’m feeling, Y/n?” Vinnie asked. You nodded, egging him to continue. “I’m feeling…very hungry right now. I want a fat burger and a fat fry with a fat shake to go along with it. That’s exactly what I’m feeling right now. And if the relationship is already going to hell…why fight for it? I say let it die.”

He then proceeded to hop out of his seat and dance around his room, chanting “let it die, let it die…let it shrivel up and die” while clapping.

You just stood there with nothing to say. You couldn’t believe that he was taking this all as a joke. You just poured your entire heart to him, trying to fix your relationship, and he’s sitting here quoting The Lorax and acting like a child. At this point, you were sure that there was no hope for the two of you and you were fine with that. You weren’t going to be driven mad by this anymore.

“You’re a fucking joke.” You growled, picking up your keys off his bed. “Y’know, I wish we hadn’t met each other because I’d be way better off if I didn’t even know you.”

“That’s not saying a lot, babe. You’d probably still be with the same dickhead who cheated on you.”

You scoffed, feeling the hornets in your stomach get their stingers ready. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“I’m saying I made your life better. You wouldn’t be who you are today if it wasn’t for me.”

“You’re one to talk. You’d be stuck in here, playing video games and withering away if I hadn’t come along.”

Vinnie huffed, holding back a laugh. “At least I don’t have to deal with video games nagging at me all the time.”

“Jerk!” you yelled, rushing to his door. You stood in the doorway, turning around to look back at him. “I never want to see you again, you hear me? NEVER again, Vincent. You’re dead to me.”

Slamming the door behind you, you made your way down the hallway of the Hype House. But before you could go any further, something stopped you. A feeling of sadness washed over you and your anger subsided. The hornets that once threatened to pour out of you had now calmed down. At that moment, you felt your body tremble as sin known as lust flowed through your veins. You swallowed hard, trying to keep yourself from rushing back into Vinnie’s room and pouncing on him…but there was nothing you could do to stop yourself.

“Screw it,” you whispered.

You turned around and darted towards Vinnie’s room. Bursting through the door, you tackled him onto the bed and well…you know the rest. You knew going through this all over again was bad, that it was causing more damage to your relationship. It was definitely sad…but that’s what made you good in bed.

[thefanficmonster]

Perspective

Corpse Husband x Reader (Female)

Warnings: Swearing

Genre: Fluff, Humor, RPF (Real Person Fic)

Summary: Corpse recounts the time he first met his now best friend who too has been gifted with a deep voice.

Requested by two Anons. This fic is a mash up of two very similar requests I got from an unnamed Anon and 🖤🥀 Anon, so a big thank you to the both of you for sending in your requests! I’m really sorry to be posting your requested fic so late but I hope the final product is gonna make the wait you had to endure worth it! If you come across it and read it, I hope you enjoy it! Love, Vy ❤

“Yeah, yeah ok, I know.“ I can’t help but playfully roll my eyes at the comments that are flooding in, “Before any more people address it - even though it’s only been five minutes - I’m gonna address it myself: I apologize for the absence of the guest I promised would accompany me on this stream. She made the choice to party until late - or should I say early - and is currently probably asleep. And...I just don’t have the heart to wake her.“

In all honesty, all the blame should fall on Y/N’s lack of responsibility but I could never say such a thing - she rarely let’s herself loose and allows herself to have fun so there’s no way I’m gonna hold this one instance against her. Quite the contrary actually: I hope she starts going out and having fun more frequently cause really deserves it. She’s a super hardworking girl, studying college and working her ass off simultaneously.

“For those of you who don’t know who I’m referring to: the girl in question is Y/N, aka Jumpscaretastic, a horror games oriented streamer. She was supposed to join me for this freaky journey but...yeah I’ll have to endure it on my own because fuck me.“ I take a look at my chat again, deciding to keep this interaction with my viewers going for a bit longer before I start the game. I may be stalling but you sure as hell won’t hear me admit it. The game may be terrifying as hell - I have no doubt it is - but I doubt it would affect me so much if Y/N was here.  My eyebrows furrow automatically at the sight of one specific question that I’ve been getting asked quite a lot recently and I’ve been doing my best to avoid it cause the idea - to me, at least - is so messed up. Why, we’ll get into that later. “No- ok, this is the first and last time I’ll be addressing this wild assumption, you guys, so listen carefully. Y/N and I are by no means related. I’m not related to every deep-voiced person on this planet, just FYI.“ Speaking of Y/N’s deep voice which I’ve gotten so accustomed to hearing, I can’t help but recall the first interaction the two of us had when she got invited by Toast for a game of Among Us with us when Felix canceled on us due to technical difficulties. “I may not be related to her but she really put into perspective how other people feel and react when they hear my voice. I, honestly speaking was astonished by hers.“

A few months ago

“Ok guys, since Felix texted me about an hour ago, saying he won’t be able to make it, I invited a friend of mine so I hope that’s ok with you.“ Toast announces when the majority of us have accumulated in the lobby.

“Yeah, all cool. An introduction to them would be nice though.“ Charlie says, tampering with his avatar’s appearance on the in-game laptop.

“Oh, I’m sure she can do that herself.” He says with a bit of a chuckle, “Y/N?“

“I’m here, I’m here.“ 

My gaze moves from my chat to the monitor displaying the game in an instant as though it would reveal to me who the owner of this unfamiliar voice that just travelled through my headphones is. You know how my voice is considerably deep, yeah well this girl’s voice is six feet below that.  My eyes have widened without me even noticing as I hurry to unmute myself despite being a little late to the reaction party which already consists of a ton of ��OMG’s and “WHOA”s from the rest of the people in the call. Not one of them, however, considers to question the authenticity of the voice.

“Was that a voice changer or something?“ I say, my eyebrows shooting up when I hear the laugh I receive in response to the question - a sound so deep but simultaneously sweet and girly it messes with my head.

“I wish I kept count so I could tell you which number on the list of people who’ve asked me that you fall under.“ The girl, Y/N replies, “But for the record no, it’s not a voice changer.“

Realizing how hypocritical this question probably seems coming from me, I decide to believe her - probably cause she gets nothing if she lies anyways. “Oh, so this is how it feels hearing my voice for the first time, huh?“ I say, slowly nodding my head, still in slight disbelief.

“Yeah, meeting her was quite rattling - in the best way possible though.“ I say, fixating myself back in reality following the little trip back in time to the day Y/N and I met. “She’s now one of my best friends so that should tell you enough.“

It goes without saying that, since she’s my best friend, I know her quite well. That being said, with the detailed knowledge I have on her, I can guess she’s gonna be in for a massive hangover when she wakes up. I just hope she texts me when she does so I can make sure she’s at least semi-functional. Just then, my phone buzzes with a message. Much to my shock, it’s a message from Y/N. Truth be told, I didn’t expect her to be up for another hour or two or three but here she is, sending a simple text that reads:

“My head’s pounding like a drum mid rock n’ roll concert“

There are no emojis accompanying the message, suggesting she’s deadly serious and in quite a bit of pain. Ok, I won’t sugarcoat it - she’s in a fuck-load of pain right now.

“The Sleeping Beauty has awaken and is complaining about a headache, just in case you were wondering.“ I chuckle seemingly nonchalantly as I silently contemplate whether to text her back or call her instead. Who’s gonna know better than my viewers, after all... “You guys think I should call her? Or would that annoy her?“ I ask, furrowing my brows at the chat as I see different responses coming in.

Meh, fuck it -  I think to myself, already taking my phone to call Y/N when the support of my viewers floods in as well.

She picks up after two rings, letting out a sound that sets the tone for the discomfort she’s in.

“Hello to you too.“ I say, putting the call on speaker so my mic can pick up her responses. “Would you please rate the pain you’re in right now on a scale 1-10?“

“A hundred.“ Her strained, raspy and deeper than usual voice comes through, stealing a chuckle from me, “I’m hungover and still a bit drunk. Like, how does that even work?“

“The morning after is a straight-up bitch. Welcome to the world of bad decisions.“ I tell her compassionately, low-key wishing I could go over to her place and provide her with at least a tiny bit of comfort, as much as I can.

“Yeah...“ she sighs halfway dramatically, “Anyhow, we usually text around this time, what’s up with the call?“

“Just wanted to make sure my best-girl wasn’t really dying, you know. Who am I supposed to annoy in Among Us if you’re not there, after all?” I raise my brow and, although she can’t see me, I bet she can probably guess I’m doing that.

“Whatever...“ The same way I can imagine her rolling her eyes while smiling as she said that, “Tell me this, am I wrong or was I supposed to be on your stream today?“

I barely manage to hold in my laughter at the question, “Uh, yeah you were, but...” she doesn’t let me finish my sentence, instead cuts me of:

“Oh shit, I’m so sorry, Corpse! I totally forgot. Believe me, if I could roll my ass out of bed I’d hop in but I really can’t. Unless you want me to be a bore for an hour and a half, that is.“

“For starters, you could never be a bore to me.“ I say matter-of-factly, “And for seconds, you’re kinda on the stream anyway...“

“Come again?“ She cuts me off yet again, “You’re calling me mid-stream? If so, hey everyone! Sorry I couldn’t join, I promise to make it up to both you and Corpse soon.“ A yawn comes from her end before she continues, “As of now, I think I’ll go back to sleep.“

“Alright, alright. I’ll call you again later to make sure you’re still alive. Sleep tight.“ I tell her, already hovering my thumb over the ‘Hang up‘ button.

“Won’t let the hangover bite.“ She slurs/murmurs, stealing my opportunity to end the call cause she does it herself.

I stare at my phone for a second, finally becoming aware of the grin that has spread across my face. Eventually, I address my viewers once again, “There you have it, guys. Technically, you can give her a pass for answering the call, especially in her current state, so let’s all agree to not hold this against her, cool?“

A brief look at my chat shows me the ton of fluffy comments that are coming in as a reaction to the interaction Y/N and I just had. One, however, sticks out especially. It reads: ‘You like her or smt?’

“Do I like Y/N?“ I read the comment out loud, a smirk coming across my face, “Of course I do. She’s a darling.“ If I had a webcam on I’d look straight into the lens and wink. That’s probably spark more than enough rumors, but at the very least they wouldn’t be wrong. “I’ve stalled enough, Outlast is waiting.“ I announce, finally starting the game. After all, it cannot be scarier than the conspiracies my fans could come up with. I get it though - from their perspective, we’re already the perfect couple; from my perspective we’re impossible because from Y/N’s perspective we’re best friends.

Ain’t that how it always goes?

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[ptergwen]

I think your requests are open (I didn’t see anything that said otherwise but I suck at this app lol) but I was wondering if you could write a peter x reader (likely college-age) where they have an academic rivalry and just tease each other a lot and lots of fluff and shit? It can be an established relationship or like a friends/rivals to lovers or really whatever you want. Sorry if this is super specific! Anyways, I love your writing, it always cheers me up :)

friends close, enemies closer

ik this is cherry BUT i had to

w/c: 1.6k

warnings: swearing and hints of suggestiveness

a/n: thank you my love ! i’m actually obsessed with this concept so i’m super super happy with how it came out n i hope you are too :,)

-

you wipe sweat from your upper lip, peeking at peter’s laptop screen. he’s more than halfway through the paper your english professor tasked your class to write. he looks to have not a worry in the world as he continues to type away. growling at this, you dive right back into work.

you’ve been at each other’s throats since the beginning of classes when you both wanted the same spot. first row, middle seat. peter had officially claimed it in the end. you’d flopped down next to him and his irritating smirk.

the dude is smart, you’ll give him that. his knowledge of literature is almost as impressive as yours. almost. he raises his hand any chance he gets, effectively stealing your thunder if you dare to participate.

peter is also a bit of a people pleaser. he’ll chat up your professor at office hours, fascinate her with his hot takes on things or stupid anecdotes. you often get so annoyed that you bail before you even attempt to woo her yourself. the sight of you storming off is something peter thoroughly enjoys.

bottom line is, golden boy peter parker never loses. underneath the sweet, innocent persona he hides behind is a ruthless fighter. you’re determined to end his winning streak, thus sparking your ongoing competition to be better than the other in every way possible.

this time, your goal is to meet your ten page paper requirements the fastest. they aren’t due for weeks, but you and peter are banging them out in one sitting.

you’re hauled up in the campus library, sat side by side despite your wishes for peter to get his own table. he’d insisted on sharing with you. why, you haven’t a clue. you can’t stand him, and he isn’t the fondest of you either.

that’s what you tell yourselves, at least.

“progress report?” peter requests from you. “page three. you?” you grunt back. he props his feet up on the table, arms flexed behind his head. “finishing up page seven. you already knew that, though... creeper.”

god, you can hear the shit-eating grin in his voice.

you glance over at peter, doing your best to ignore how his biceps bulge under his hoodie. nerdy little parker is ripped.

“worry about yours, i’ll worry about mine. thanks.” you reread the sentence you wrote prior to peter’s chiseled body distracting you. “oh, the irony,” he sighs and nudges the edge of your laptop with his sneaker. scowling, you shift the screen away from him.

about a minute of silence goes by until it’s unfortunately filled by peter. he stretches his arms out, finally removing his dirty shoes from the table.

“i’m gonna take five. maybe, you could use it as an opportunity to catch up to me,” peter cockily suggests. “spare me your charity, peter. i’m doing just fine without it,” you retort, letting out a scoff. peter raises his hands in defense. “if you say so, princess.”

here you were, naively thinking peter couldn’t become any more insufferable than he already is.

you slam your laptop shut and jab a finger at his chest. “jesus christ, how many times do i have to ask you not to call me that?” a patronizing pout adorns peter’s lips. “aw, i love it when you get all bossy on me. so cute.”

he grabs your hand still on his chest, pressing a light kiss to the back of it. you’re quick to wipe it off on his hoodie. nevertheless, there’s an undeniable heat rushing to your cheeks.

“well, i hate it when you call me princess,” you deadpan. peter tilts his head to the side. “do you?”

of course not. deep down, you live for the fuzzy feeling you get whenever the nickname slips from his tongue. oh, his tongue and the things it can do. poking out as he focuses hard on a question, running across his pink lips…

you have to reel it in. this is peter parker you’re fantasizing about, your mortal enemy.

“yes. i hate it, and i hate you,” you unsuccessfully convince the both of you. “no, you don’t,” peter rasps, darkened eyes scanning over your features. his stare is intense and intimidating. he grasps your chin between his thumb and index finger, slowly leaning in closer.

he’s not going to stop until you make him. you don’t want to, but you will.

you shove his shoulder, dragging your laptop towards you again. “on second thought, i could use that catch up. you’re not gonna throw me off my game, parker.”

your rejection seems to disappoint peter. his expression matches that of a kicked puppy, brows furrowed and arms crossed over his chest.

“we’ll see,” he murmurs and swings a leg over his chair. “alright, i’m gonna run to the caf. you want anything?”

he’s offering to buy you food now? what’s his angle here?

“i’d say yes, but i’m afraid you’ll poison it somehow,” you half joke. peter hops to his feet. “don’t give me any ideas,” he warns, snatching his backpack off the floor. “i’ll just surprise you.”

although you’re curious what his mystery snack choice for you would be, you can’t accept. you’d be going against your entire dynamic.

would that be so terrible?

absolutely.

you wave him off towards the double doors. “i’m good, peter. really. i’m not that hungry, anyway.” shaking his head, peter throws a backpack strap onto one shoulder. “y/n, your stomach’s been grumbling for the last hour. you gotta eat.”

he’s not wrong. you’re starving, but you’ve been too preoccupied by your essay to break for dinner.

“fine, surprise me,” you concede. peter flashes you a smile, this one void of its usual condescendence. “i’ll be back. try not to miss me too much,” he calls as he walks backwards to the library doors. “i won’t. shoo already,” you dismiss him, a laugh falling from your lips.

peter winks at you, then disappears into the night. you’re left with a serious case of butterflies and a certain freckle faced know-it-all on your mind.

that’s a problem.

you’ve managed to get another page done when peter reappears. he sits back down and slides a bag across the table, you closing your laptop. you dig into it to figure out what he picked for you. you’re not too pleased with his selection, however.

“oh, yummy. vomit in a cup,” you announce as you hold a green smoothie in your hand. peter reaches over and pats your thigh. “it’s good for you. drink up, princess.” you slap him away. “hard pass. i’d rather you have gotten me nothing.”

narrowing his eyes, peter pulls two cookies wrapped in a napkin from his pocket. “i’m guessing you don’t want these either? more for me, then.”

they’re chocolate chip and m&m, your favorite in the cafeteria. they just came out of the oven, so they’re still warm.

“how… how did you know i…” you trail off, peter setting the cookies in front of you. he offers you a lopsided grin. “i know a lot about you, believe it or not. i pay attention.” you surprise yourself by returning his smile. “thank you, peter. how much do i owe you?”

“nah, it’s on me,” peter assures you. “enjoy.” pushing aside your unappealing drink, you seize the cookies instead. “you have to eat, too. let me at least split these with you.” there’s a beat before peter nods. “fair enough.”

that results in you two munching on your cookies while pretending to write your papers. you’re sneaking glances at each other whenever the other isn’t looking, in reality.

once it’s about time for the library to close, you’re on the verge of passing out. peter is concluding his essay until he hears a thump from your side of the table.

he finds you with your cheek smushed against your keyboard and hitting random letters, snores escaping you.

chuckling to himself, peter places a hand on your shoulder. “hey, y/n?” he speaks in a hushed tone. you awake with a gasp, drool pooling at the corners of your mouth. “easy there, princess. it’s only me.” he rubs circles on your back, and it’s oddly comforting.

“keep doing that,” you purr, momentarily forgetting how much you’re supposed to despise peter. he lets his fingers dance across the exposed skin of your lower back. “we should probably head out. it’s kinda late,” peter decides.

you sit up, bones aching and eyes forced open. “not yet. have to beat you first.” you start to delete the gibberish you accidentally typed. peter cups your cheek to turn your head towards him, your movements halting. “this one’s a tie. you did good, y/n/n,” he coos. “finish the rest another day.”

“why’re you being so nice to me?” you nearly whisper. peter uses his thumb to swipe the drool from your lips. “‘cuz i care about you. i might not show it, but i do,” he admits with the hint of a smile. “besides, i need you… for the, uh, the healthy competition.”

laughing softly, you twist his hoodie strings around your fingers and tug. “your intentions are pure as always. sure that’s all you need me for?” peter’s gaze darts to your lips, then your eyes. “we’ll see,” he repeats.

rivalry be damned.

“mm. i care about you too, parker. thanks again for tonight,” you hum. a blush coats peter’s cheeks, even in the dim library lighting. his sweet and innocent side might truly exist. “no problem.” peter links your pinkie with his, the gesture giving you that fuzzy feeling. “i’ll walk you back to your dorm?”

you lean over and kiss his pinkie intertwined in yours.

“lead the way.”

[s1ater]

the older boy, part two. eli moskowitz x reader

summary 📣: in which reader’s friends warn her about the older boy with the red mohawk but she doesn’t listen

warning/s 🚫: swearing

slater’s note 🗯: omg slater finally uploaded 😮

part one, part two

hawk: miss me princess?

you squinted your eyes from the bright glare surfacing from the screen of your phone. it had to be about close to midnight and it was almost something you expected, this text.

he always texted late, always catching you minutes before you decided to clock out for bed, and always drawing out your sleep schedule. so instead of going to bed at 11:30 like normal, you ended up wide awake well around two hours later.

y/n: you flatter yourself too much

hawk: is that so? thought you always looked forward to our nightly convos

y/n: other than them being nightly, sure

hawk: i’m a busy man

you rolled your eyes, “sure you are.”

y/n: that’s probably why i never see you outside of school then huh

you couldn’t careless on why you never saw hawk outside of school. it seemed to be rather a blessing from all the things you had been hearing about him lately. it was just fun to tease.

he liked being teased as weird as it sounded, it fired him up as he stared at the screen of his phone, smirking. hawk knew you knew why you never saw him and why he never saw you. you guys weren’t friends, barely acquaintances, only two oblivious lonely people who wanted someone to fill their hormonal needs. 

hawk: you never see me sweetheart because you never want to

y/n: that’s a lie

hawk: is it?

y/n: i’d love to see you

hawk: i’m sure you would, but face it princess, you’d chicken out halfway through before you’d even see my face

y/n: lies, you sure you’re not talking about yourself?

but was it really a lie? you wondered, thinking whether or not your wits and nervousness would overcome you before you actually saw the face of eli if you were to ever hang out with him.

you bit your lip thinking about earlier today when moon said to stay away from eli for rather obvious reasons. one being he was violent and angry a lot of the time and two... he was a teenage asshole who’d fuck you over the minute you showed vulnerability.

hawk: let me come over if you’re not a pussy

you bit your tongue at the sight of the message. great, you thought. now you had to come up with some excuse only to prove hawk right; that you were a pussy. the thing was, you didn’t actually think he’d want to see you.

it was like a silent agreement that your relationship was flirting only, nothing else. he was like a side hustle along with all the other boys who hit you up through your snapchat.

y/n: sorry babe, i only let boys who actually talk to me in real life come over

hawk: alright, fuck you lmfao

eli mindlessly smiled at his phone screen while shaking his head. he knew you’d be a challenge, and he knew you’d turn him down any minute or mention of hanging out.

he found taunting and teasing you amusing and sometimes the highlights of his days but sometimes it also got boring with how you didn’t put out as easily as the other girls.

y/n: sorry bud

hawk: alright, goodnight princess ;)

°•

it was uneventfully windy as you stood outside waiting for moon’s red car to pull up and drop you home. you almost swore as you came into realization that she probably forgot about you, again.

you tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as you checked your phone once again, absent of any notifications that would relate to moon.

you were beginning to feel sick, the kind of sick that resonated in your stomach from a sprout of loneliness. you shook your head, pushing yourself off the brick high school wall deciding you better start walking now if you wanted to get home before five.

your feet begun to burn five minutes into walking the shortest route you could think of as a way home, “fucking, moon.” you shook your head, taking out your phone again. she always had the strangest memory problems and seemed to always goes m.i.a. the moments you need her the most, such as.. when you were desperately in need a ride home. 

“need a ride?”

you almost jumped in surprised, not realizing a car had pulled up next to you as you were focused on your phone. you dipped your head down to the low window of the old red cadillac pulled up next to you, their windows rolled down, old rap music turned down low in order to speak to you. 

eli.  

“nice car,” you quirked your brow with a slight impressed smile. he was one of the last people on earth you would expect to give you a ride despite your conversation the last night. 

“you want a ride or not, princess?” “oh, i wouldn’t want to ruin your special me time, hawk.”

“get in the fucking car, y/n,” he rolled his eyes, quickly done with your bullshit as he put the car in drive. you reluctantly got in the nice car, swinging your bag to the floor as you couldn’t help smile to yourself. 

“you know i’ve never been in a karate kid’s car before,” you mumbled lightly, examining the interior of the car better, your fingers running against the smooth dashboard, impressed by how well restored the old car was. 

“is that so?” he glanced at you, a slight smirk on his face. 

“who restored the car?” you mumbled, your eyes still looking around almost like a kid in a candy store, only more subtle, trying to hide the fact how impressed you were with the car. 

he glanced at you again, almost taken back by the question. it was never a question he had heard before, especially by a girl. he smirked, trying to hide his own surprisal, “you know larusso? guy helped me out with it.”

“nice,” you mumbled, leaning back into the seat, done with your examination. 

it was silent now, and you almost sat comfortably if it weren't for the voice in the back of your head yelling at you that the whole thing was a bad idea. you wanted to ignore it so badly, because you had never actually ever saw a red flag from eli other than the fact that it’s basic knowledge he’d a fuck boy. 

he seemed like a generally good guy. no not a good guy, a guy that was your type. eli wasn’t at all the good guy type but more or so the douche that was only nice to certain group of people, you being on of them. 

because he wanted to fuck you. 

“got something on your mind?” he glanced at you, almost nervously like you'd hop out the window with any wrong move he made. 

“no,” you said it fast making him smirk, almost as if he knew what you were thinking, almost as if he were familiar with the typical female anxiousness. familiar with the fast talking, redden cheeks, lip bites, fingers fiddling, all of it, it seemed as if he just knew. 

and eli was, it hadn't taken him long when going through girls to pick up on the similar body language they all seemed to have. because really, down to the bottle, they all did the same thing; always rubbed their lips together prompting for kisses, using a different fragrance than usual when finally alone, fingers tapping, lessening the clothing on their body than the usual outfit. all similar, and he could almost see it in you despite this being an unintentional meet up... and you weren't trying to pounce on. 

“actually.. yeah,” you lightly bit your bottom lip as you looked at your lap, trying to think of the best way to ask him the question that had been on your mind for awhile; “what do you expect from me, eli?” wow, what kind of question was that?

it was an honest and upfront one, something he wasn't used to, practically sending him into shock as he had to look at you fully to see if you were actually serious and not pulling his leg, seeming like something you'd do. 

but you really wondered. 

“uh- i, what?”

you awkwardly laughed, looking to him, “no, i mean i really don't give a shit, i’m just not about to lead you into something you think you’re going to get nudes in, because your really not.” 

wow, really? 

he almost swore aloud, biting his lip hard, now realizing you really weren't going to be easy, not as easy as the girls who put out the moment you called them pretty, or even the ones who you had to take on a date before they even sent. 

fuck. 

he laughed it off, shaking his head as if you were a fool for thinking that, “you really think that low of me?”

no worries, there’s always plan b; make you feel bad. 

you laughed in return, “yeah, i really do.”

but he forgot you weren’t that stupid to fall for feeling bad just for something you weren’t about. 

“wow.”

“you wouldn't be the first.”

“so, I've heard,” he gripped his neck, eyes now glued to the road before turning into a neighborhood off from the main road, his mind following the map basically glued in his mind from driving past your house to dmitri’s. 

he parked, now seeming to ignore you as his whole plan begun to fall apart right before him. 

“thanks, eli,” you nodded to him, jumping out of the car with your bookbag in hand before beginning to trek up your front yard. 

“anytime, princess.” 

masterlist

💒

join the taglist lil doggy

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[strangelysamantha]

cheerleader ❀

rafe cameron x plus!reader.

warnings: swearing, flirting, slight angst in the beginning (barely)

words: 2,365.

summary: rafe was intrigued by you, he wanted to get to know you. he thought that task would be easy, but your distaste for him was apparent. despite the overwhelming amount of setbacks, he knew he would get you to crack.

request? no :)

a/n: please like and comment if you enjoy! thank you, ilysm <3

my masterlist

part two

——————————————————————————

most things rafe wanted, he easily got. it was a known fact. his parents were financially stable so they could afford to throw money down the drain for useless items that wouldn’t be used more than once. his popularity and name allowed him to get away with most things. except you. you seemed to not care about his wealth or his looks. you didn’t even care to give him the time of day. he took this as a challenge. he was destined to get you to like him if it was the last thing he did.

the first time he talked to you was during school. he thought his charm and popularity would make you swoon. instead, it was quite the opposite. he approached you at your locker, his smile bright. “hey. i’m rafe.” he extended his hand out to you. “hello, rafe.” you shake his hand back, before retreating your hand to your side. you stare at him in confusion. “uhm am i in the way of your locker?” you question, he shakes his head. “oh no, actually. i just wanted to introduce myself to you.” you nod your head. “well rafe, it was nice to meet you, i guess. but i’m running late for class.” you shut your locker, speeding off to class.

rafe stayed by your locker in awe. you really thought rafe was just waiting to get to his locker? it’s halfway through the school year, if his locker was by yours, you would have known by now. he embarrassingly walked away, heading to his first class. that awkward moment was lingering in his head, stuck on replay. your facial expression that showcased confusion stayed still in his mind. by third hour he was over it, not as embarrassed. he shrugged it off, excited to try again.

rafe actually didn’t know that much about you. he saw you in the halls occasionally. his interest in you peaked when he saw that you talked to topper a lot. since you were heavily associated with topper, he believed that it would be easy to befriend you. it’s clear to him now that isn’t the case. he can’t help but feel surprised at your lack of knowledge for him. everyone knows of rafe, and you should especially know because of how well you know topper.

regardless, rafe knew what he had to do. he needed to see topper, and investigate him. rafe pulled his phone out, texting topper to meet him.

topper met rafe in the boy’s bathroom before fourth period. they scoped the bathroom, ensuring to themselves that they could openly talk since they were alone. rafe didn’t hesitate, he immediately bombarded topper with questions about you. “what’s with the sudden interest?” topper asks, confused.

“i don’t know, i keep seeing her in the hallway and she stares at me.” topper nods, “well she does good academically, i know her because her family is friends with my family, she’s on the cheerleading team, i don’t know man. what info are you wanting?” the cheerleading team. rafe smiled to himself, you are a cheerleader. “that’s good enough, i just needed some info so i could know if i want to meet her or not.” topper laughed, “alright man. i gotta go.” rafe nodded, “see you later.” topper fist bumped rafe before walking out the bathroom.

you were a cheerleader? he had no clue. it dawned on him, if he had no idea of who you were, why would you know who he was? he shook his head at the thought, instead heading to class.

on the other side of the school sat you, fidgeting with your pencil as you struggled to keep up with the current notes. the interaction you had with rafe was confusing you. why did he suddenly want to meet you? it didn’t make sense. the whole class period you tried to wrap your brain around his actions, trying to figure out what his intention was, but you fell short.

at lunch time you sat at a table, you usually sat with friends but they were absent. it didn’t help they were absent the one day someone popular randomly takes an interest in you. you sit on the chair, pulling out your math homework. if you knocked it out at lunch, you had a high chance of not having homework. you start the first problem, but immediately halt when your family friend, topper, taps on your shoulder. “hi tops.” you smile softly at him, setting your pencil down and turning your attention to him. he smiles at you, “hey.”

you pick up a goldfish, plopping it into your mouth. “how have you been?” you question topper. he shrugs, “same old same old. family is still upset with me, per usual.” you nod, soaking up what he said. “dang, that sucks. it’s so annoying how people hold grudges. they don’t know how to forgive and forget.” you shrug, smiling up at him. he returns the smile, “i know right.” you place your homework back in your bag, assuming you wouldn’t be able to finish it during lunch.

“what did you even do?” you ask him. he smiles, “uh i accidentally pissed a pogue off so they got revenge by sinking my new boat.” your eyes widened, “what! holy shit you must have fucked up bad.” he frowns, “i didn’t really want to do it, you know how tricky it is with our reputation and who we have to associate with.” you laugh, “oh i know all too well of what that’s like.” topper rolls his eyes, assuming you’re talking about him.

“hey! i’m not too bad.” you laugh, “it wasn’t about you. you aren’t bad at all.” you look up, seeing rafe take his backpack off. you glance at topper to see he is confused as well. “hey rafe, what’s up?” topper questions rafe, who had just sat down at our table. “nothing much man, saw you over here and decided to join.” you laugh sarcastically, “inviting yourself to our private party?” you question, slightly joking. rafe felt an unexpected twinge of jealousy when you grouped yourself and topper together.

“i’m just kidding rafe… kind of.” you grin, topper joining in by chuckling with you. rafe awkwardly laughs along. he pulls himself together, thinking of things to say. “are you going to the football game tomorrow?” rafe waits for your response. you smile slightly, “yeah, but i’m a cheerleader so i’ll be on field.” he nods, “oh, that’s cool.” you nod awkwardly. “yeah.” he smiles subconsciously, excited to see you in a uniform. his smile disintegrates when topper confronts him. “what are you smiling for bro?” rafe stared at him, unamused. “nothing.” topper scoffs, “alright then.”

you steal looks between rafe and topper, still confused. you don’t ask any questions, you just continue eating your food. the bell rings, indicating that lunch is over. you gather up your trash, standing up. you notice rafes eyes lingering over your body. his eyes fixating between your thick thighs, and hips. you feel self conscious under his stare, so you quickly stand up and walk to the trash can. rafe follows after you, quick on his feet. he comes up to your side, much to your dismay.

“will i see you at the game tomorrow?” you turn your head to the side, “are you going to the game?” you return. he nods, “yeah.” you smile, “then you’ll probably see me.” he grins, “okay, cool.” he quickly turns around, leaving you by yourself. you were confused still, but hey, maybe having rafe as a friend would be good.

you got through the day quickly, heading immediately home. you work on homework, chores, and finally get ready for bed. before bed you prepare your uniform. you set it out, along with a jacket so you weren’t on full display at school. you wake up the next morning, putting on your uniform, along with a bow in your hair. you head to school, slightly nervous for your possible interaction with rafe.

when you arrive at school, you don’t see rafe. you only saw topper, who was eagerly heading in your direction. he smiled, standing still in front of you. “hey, good morning!” you smile, “hi tops.” the two of you talk for a bit, him walking you to class. “can i pick you up before the game?” topper asks. “sure, it has to be a little earlier than the fans. i have warm ups and stuff i have to do before the game.” he grins, “okay! just text me tonight when you want me to pick you up.” you put your hands in your jacket pocket. “okay, thanks topper!”

he walks away, and you walk into your first hour class. you go through your classes as usual, rafe not showing up. you couldn’t tell if you were disappointed or relieved, but either way it didn’t matter, you had a game you had to prepare for. you do your make up, and touch up your hair. you chug water, and began stretching. you text topper, saying he could pick you up now, if he still wanted to drive you. his response was quick and enthusiastic.

topper pulls up to your house, his music loud, and a large smile plastered on his face. “game day!!” you laugh along, repeating his words. “game day!” you open his door, hopping inside. “let’s go!” you playfully roll your eyes at his eagerness, “to the school!” topper smirks, stepping on the gas, and speeding out your driveway.

the two of you sing along to the songs on the radio, before it abruptly ends due to you two arriving at the school. he decides to stay in his car, planning on joining right when the official game starts. you skip down the field, joining your teammates. you stretch with them, before you practice the chants and dance numbers.

at six thirty, they start allowing people in. you immediately see topper hunched over the fence, him waving frantically at you. you wave back, jogging over to him. “you ready?” he asks, you bite your lip, “i guess.” he laughs at your nerves, excited for you. you glance over and see rafe. he hadn’t seen you yet. your breath gets caught in your throat, slightly scared and self conscious to see him.

topper gives you reassuring words, and out of the corner of your eye, you notice rafe had found you. rafe slowly makes his way towards topper, keeping his cool. rafe stares at you in your cheerleading uniform. his breath gets heavy, he stares, watching you talk to topper. jealously fills his chest, of course topper was here first. rafe quickly approached the two of you, eager to break the conversation up.

“hi rafe.” you smile softly, looking up at him. he smiles, “hey. good luck today.” you fiddle with your fingers, “thank you.” rafe stays silent. you hear the coaches whistle. “i got to go, i’ll talk to you when i can!” you quickly turn around, jogging back to the cheerleading circle.

rafe watches as you jog away, hes mesmerized by how well the uniform fit. he knew you would look good, but damn. he looks over at topper, who makes eye contact with him. “what’s up rafe?” topper stares at rafe, waiting for an explanation. “she is so hot.” topper scoffs, “bro, already whipped?” rafe rolls his eyes, but grins. “for her, yeah. i’d willingly be whipped.” the two boys sit on the bench, topper watching the game, and rafe watching you.

after sitting in silence, rafe speaks up. “do you think she likes me?” topper quickly glances at rafe, trying to see if he was joking or if he was serious. when topper saw he was serious, he genuinely contemplated it. “id say maybe, i mean she doesn’t shrivel up in disgust when you are around. that’s a pretty good sign.” rafe shook his head, “that’s true. that is a good sign.”

rafe admired you, you getting his full attention. on break you rush to the fence, excited to see rafe and topper. “hey!” you look up at them, “you are doing great!” topper reached down, highfiving you. “thanks!” you look over at rafe, something took you over because he actually looked hot. you bit you lip slightly, you were going to say something, but rafe beat you to it. “you look good.” rafe smirked slightly, causing heat to rise to your face. “thank you, rafe.”

you return to the group again, your heart racing. the idea of rafe made your breath heavy. you continue to chant, and preform. you occasionally looked up rafe, his eyes always focused on you. you had a low chance of being able to go to the fence again, so you focused entirely on perfecting the choreography. the crowd was cheering loudly, your hometown winning the game.

at the final quarter, your hometown won by one point. your team jumps up and down, ecstatic. you preform a final show, before you break apart. you chug water. you rush in line with the other cheerleaders, going in a straight line to high-five the football players. you smile brightly at them, telling them congrats for winning the game. most of them returned a smile, and thanked you.

after the bleachers started to empty, you decided to meet up with topper, and possibly rafe. you look around for topper but he was gone. you turn around, accidentally bumping into rafe. “oh i’m sorry.” he stares at you, “hey, by the way topper left, said he was going on a date with a girl from the cheer team.” you frown, “oh. he was my ride.” rafe smiles, “you can ride me- i mean ride with me.” you laugh lightly at his switch up, “okay. i’ll ride you.” your heart is racing, the after game adrenaline flowing through your veins, which was causing you to be bold. he smirks at you, “okay, i’d enjoy that.” you mimic his smirk, following him to his car.

he turns around, “are you sure?” you nod, “i’m sure, are you?” he is shocked by your question, “so fucking sure.”

part two will be steamy <3

[honeycombstrawberry]

got the groove

pairings: steve rogers x reader (she/her pronouns)

rating: gen

word count: 895

prompt: “a Steve Rogers x Reader + Bucky where they go to a diner (Riverdale vibes lol) and eat and she gets a milkshake and fries and idk, it’s just fluffy and soft and cute.”

one-sentence synopsis: you've had a long day at work, and so your boyfriend steve, along with his best friend bucky, take you out for a thematic meal to cheer you up.

You had had a long day at work. You loved your job, for sure, but it takes a lot out of anybody to work for such long hours every day. Steve had called you at work halfway through the day to ask after you and, once he heard how worn-out you were, promised he’d bring you out for a low-key night. Where you were going, you had no idea, but he had told you Bucky wanted to tag along just to hang out, so you were looking forward to it.

Once you finally got out of work, you went to sit on the bench outside your building, waiting for Steve to pull up. When you heard a motorcycle rumbling, you looked up, surprised. Usually Steve came in his car to pick you up, but he also knew how much you loved riding on the back of his motorcycle. You saw two coming, one with Steve and one with Bucky, and they stopped alongside the curb in front of you.

“Hey, (Y/N)!” Bucky called over the roar of his engine. Steve held out your helmet to you.

“Hop on,” he ordered, and you strapped the helmet on, secured your bag across your chest, and climbed on behind him. You wrapped your arms around him and laughed as the motorcycle took off at top speed down the street. You knew he would never drive recklessly, especially with you on board, making you feel both exhilarated and safe.

You weren’t on the ride for very long, and when you came to a stop and you got to look around, you realized you were downtown. The place was abuzz with nightlife, since it was a Friday night, and Steve hopped off before carefully helping you step onto the sidewalk.

“Where’re we going?” you asked, eyeing the street warily. Usually, you were all for a night on the town, but just looking at all the lights and people was giving you a headache after the day you had had.

“Just wait,” Steve said, taking your hand. Bucky stuffed his hands in the pockets of his leather jacket and grinned at you.

“Don’t worry,” he said, walking along on your other side as Steve led you both along. “I wouldn’t be here if Steve was making me go to some club or something.”

“Well, that’s just not true,” you said, making both of them laugh.

“Depends on the night,” Bucky allowed, as Steve guided you across the street and up to the front door of the local little dinner. The place didn’t have too many people inside, being too late for the early birds and too early for the younger crowd. Steve released you to hold the door open. Bucky breezed past him, grinning, and you followed, stopping to kiss Steve on the cheek.

You don’t know how Steve knew it, but this was exactly what you needed. The waitress brought the three of you to a booth and left you to look over the menu. As soon as she was gone, you leaned into Steve’s side; he smiled and put his arm around you, pulling you in close.

“Please, I’m trying to eat here,” Bucky said, pushing his sunglasses up on top of his head, holding his long hair away from his face. “I don’t want to lose my appetite before I’ve even ordered.”

“Shut it, Barnes,” Steve said, grinning. He kissed you on the top of your head. “Sorry you had a long day.”

“Nah, don’t be,” you told him. “It’s a lot better now.”

Bucky handed over his menu to you and you perused it before deciding on a simple milkshake and fries. Steve smiled at you when you ordered it before ordering the same, while Bucky got himself a burger along with his own milkshake and fries. He offered you a bite of it when it came, which you took.

“Love me a girl who can eat,” Bucky said, examining the bite marks left on his burger. “Watch out, Steve. I’ll take her first chance I get.”

“Lucky me, I’m not giving you any chances,” Steve shot back. Bucky laughed. Steve scooped up some of his milkshake with a French fry and flung it at Bucky, who immediately threw a fry right back.

“Please,” you said, “not at the table.”

You took advantage of their apologizing to fling milkshake at both of them.

“Oh, you’re a cheater,” Bucky laughed. Steve slid your milkshake out of reach.

“You’re being punished until you can prove you can be trusted,” Steve joked. You reached up and pulled him down towards you, kissing him thoroughly. When you pulled back, he slid your milkshake back.

“Thank you,” you said sweetly. Bucky whistled.

“What do I get if I take your milkshake?” Bucky asked. You took a sip of your milkshake and raised your eyebrow at him over the rim of the glass.

“Your ass kicked,” you said. Steve snorted, nearly choking on the fry he had been chewing. You settled back against the vinyl of the booth, content to watch the two of them bicker and joke as you ate your milkshake and fries, Bucky tossing jokes and questions your way now and then, Steve keeping his arm around you the whole time. Your headache seemed to vanish, your long day melting away under the soft lights and the good company.

[qlala]

Every time you casually mention in your tags another coldflash wip that you have started writing years ago and might not finish...like ever, I swear I break out in a cold sweat. Because is it just like GRRM's writing pace, or...? Is there an option where I give you some money and you allow me to read through your drafts? 🤣🤣🤣

On a more serious note, it always makes my day when I get the notification that you've posted a new fic. And each time I re-read some of your stories it hits me just how special your writing is. I rarely get this feeling while reading fanfiction, so thank you so much for this ♥️

addjsjfjd unfortunately it is not a GRRM writing pace situation and is instead a “70 hr/week job” situation, so i don’t have a lot of time for writing! because of that i tend to do it for enjoyment first and publishing second, so i hop from project to project based on what’s fun to write in that moment!

a lot of times that’s a new idea, sometimes it’s digging up an old idea i never finished, and then occasionally i finally hold my nose to the grindstone and make myself finish something kicking and screaming (because i love sharing fic! it’s like interactive storytelling where i go “what if these guys did this?” and other people can comment like “wow what if they DID do that?”)

but i DO feel bad for always chatting about stuff that’s not even in the publishing pipe, so here, have a red string of fate coldflash snippet that’s been abandoned in my drafts for a while! this is one of my favorites at the moment <3

Len never thought much about his string, only ever had to try to put it out of his mind when the occasional pluck came down the invisible line late at night. So he was unprepared for what lay ahead when he was leading the Rogues in a cursory scrap with Team Flash, pointing the cold gun at Cisco with a grin. Both of them knew it was a feint—he wouldn’t fire until Barry got between them with that cold-resistant tripolymer of his.

Cisco made a grab for the gun anyway, his glasses flickering to life with a blue glow. Len was ready to dodge him, but Cisco only got halfway through his lunge and then froze as suddenly as if Len had hit him with a blast after all. He stared at the gun, then looked behind Len, then back at the gun. His mouth was agape, and Len frowned as he watched him fumble to pull his glasses off.

“Somewhere else you need to be?” he asked, slightly testily, as Cisco’s wide eyes tracked over his shoulder again. He hefted the gun pointedly, but Cisco only looked at it and laughed, a strangled, hysterical sound.

“Oh, my god. Tell me you know,” he said, and then scrubbed a hand over his forehead, looking abruptly overwhelmed. “Tell me he just… You don’t. Oh my god. You don’t know.”

Len scowled. “Not one of your better distractions, Cisco.”

To his bewilderment, Cisco turned his back to him, walked to the pile of crates nearby, and sat down heavily. Len stared at him. Had someone hit him in the head during the fight? He enforced a firm no-contact rule against the members of Team Flash without enhanced healing, but clearly someone needed a reminder.

Cisco only sighed at his bemused look, and patted the crate next to him.

Len gave him one last look of confusion, then turned his back on him to rejoin the fight. 

It was all but over. Barry had noticed the oddity of what was happening between him and Cisco and pulled up short. He was still just long enough for Peek-a-Boo to get the jump on him, and she stepped smoothly into place to trip him as he jumped into action again.

The resulting crash was a big enough distraction that Len signaled for Shawna to take the loot and go, which she did with obvious relish. From there, it was just a matter of staging a strategic retreat, and getting clear before Team Goodie-Two-Shoes realized the art was already gone.

He’d just gotten his bike snarling into life when Wally West appeared in front of him in full Kid Flash regalia, looking bemused. “Uh. Hey, Cold. This is…weird, but, Cisco needs to talk to you?”

“Sweet of him. But I don't think I'll be—”

“Uh, no. Sorry. I didn’t mean for that to sound like a question.”

Len knew he didn't have time to unholster the cold gun, but he reached for it anyway on principle. 

A few seconds of unpleasant whiplash later, STAR Labs snapped-dragged into place around him, and Wally made the wise decision to be halfway across the Cortex by the time Len got his bearings. 

Barry blew in with Cisco a moment later, but he pulled up short when he saw him.

“Snart?” 

He pulled back his cowl—an absent, stupid show of trust—and then looked at him with his head cocked, hair wild. The familiarity of it had Len brushing aside the errant glimmer of fondness it kindled in his chest.

He had a line ready, the antagonism between them as worn and easy as that old STAR Labs shirt Barry favored in his down time.

But Cisco stepped between them, Vibe gloves and goggles both lit up, and the grimace on his face wasn’t promising.

“This is gonna feel a little violating,” Cisco said. He reached his hand into the open air at about waist height, closed his fist around nothing, and pulled.

Leonard had spent his life learning to have complete control over his movements; control was what he did. But nothing, nothing could’ve kept him from staggering when he felt the pull. His string hand was yanked forward, harder than any of the light plucks he’d ever felt on the other side of the line, and he staggered forward after it, caught utterly off balance.

Across the room, Barry’s arm jerked up at the same time, and he took three stumbling steps towards the center of the room before steadying himself.

Leonard had been ready to pull the cold gun on Cisco for the stunt, humiliation flashing up the back of his neck and transmuting just as quickly into anger, but his thoughts spun out as the implications of Barry’s shocked, coltish stumble began to register.

He raised his eyes to Barry’s. It took Barry a moment to meet his gaze, expression wide-eyed and betrayed where he was looking at Cisco, looking as violated as Len felt. But finally, the thought must have caught up to him, because he glanced at Len, a brief sympathetic frown before returning his attention to Cisco, and then he went rigid.

The green eyes that met Len’s were wide and too full of shock to read any of the emotions that might’ve been behind it.

“You do both wear gloves a lot.”

Leonard started guiltily, the way he’d never done when actually caught mid-heist.

Cisco was regarding them curiously, head tilted with academic interest. “Still,” he continued, “Three years. You’d think you would’ve touched at least—“

“Cisco,” Iris cut him off, quietly, without even looking toward him. For all her wide-eyed alarm, she was looking at Barry with a sort of alert empathy, watching carefully for a sign of how to react to… this. Leonard was having a hard time saying it, even in his mind. The words were lodged somewhere impossible and refused to surface.

The pieces fit together, but the final result was incomprehensible.

Piece one: Cisco, thanks to whatever Vibe powers he possessed, could see people’s strings. Touch them, even.

Piece two: Standing exactly midway between himself and Barry, Cisco had put out a hand and yanked on Len’s string. Leonard tabbed this one in his mind; he needed to remember to ice Cisco’s hand off for it later.

Piece three: When Cisco had pulled on his string, he’d obviously pulled on Barry’s as well.

Barry, who had one hand wrapped around his other wrist and looked like he might plan on phasing straight through the floor rather than even look in Len’s direction.

[cyberaxolotl]

New Home

A Bugsnax Grimdark

Description: Triffany and Wambus finally find their new land, with rich soil, and richer history. But still, good history comes with bad history, as well as “Folklore.”

Chapter One: Get Settled, Right?

Warnings: Horror Elements, mild blood

(Fic below the cut)

It had been six months since the incident at Snaktooth had ended. Everyone had gone mostly their separate ways, with only a few exceptions, but Wambus and Triffany were not one- they’d moved deep into the Southern mainland, in rural Grumpesse, the place they could find with a large plot of land and a rich digsite nearby. It was perfect, and they’d moved as soon as they were financially stable enough to.

The large truck pulled into the gravel driveway, in front of a large metal gate. The plot of land was several acres, surrounded by a metal gate, with a large farmhouse in the front-middle and sheds nearby. It was perfect for crop farming, and easy enough to pull out of that Triffany could get to work in the morning. The only “downside” were the neighbors directly across from them, but they didn’t mind. A bunch of country people living in a rural area weren’t gonna be an issue.

Triffany hopped out of the passenger side of the truck, looking through the metal fences. “Ohoho, look at all this, Wamby!” She put her talons together, smiling widely.

Wambus stepped down the truck’s side, his hooves crunching the gravel beneath him. “It’s a piece of work, ain’t it? To think we landed this, five whole acres o’ land!” He was incredibly proud of himself, tipping his hat. “We made a good choice buyin’ it now- it's late winter, perfect time to plant my crops to be ready for the alla spring!”

“I know! And it’s the perfect time for me to be joinin’ the local archeology team, oh, we really scored!” They smiled at each other, the archeologist giggling under her breath. Then, she took a sigh. “Can’t say I ain’t exhausted from the drive, though.”

He looked back at the truck. “Yup, we’ve got a lotta our belongin’s to bring in. Pretty sure it’s got most of its old furnishing though.” He thought aloud, walking back around to the back of the truck. “We can figure that out once we’ve got most of this stuff at least at the front door.”

As the back door unlocked, Triffany pulled the side open, looking inside at the stacks of boxes. “Maybe we shoulda hired some help for all of this…” She said, stepping up the stairs, her lower talons scraping against the metal.

He chuckled. “We deserve to lie down for a spell once we’re done, eh?” He also stepped up, grabbing a crate with two boxes in and on top of it. “As though I wasn’t already thinkin’ of that halfway through the drive.”

“Hmh, makes me glad we were takin’ the drive half and half! You’re the type to have fallen asleep at the wheel!” Her tail hit the metal as she hopped down, stepping away. Then, she looked across the street.

“So are you, Triffy.” He rolled his eyes, then faced her. “Whaddya lookin’ at?”

Still facing across the street, she waved. “Just the neighbors, uh, hi-!” Across the street was a soft-pink grumpus, who looked generically middle aged. They’d been staring at the two for quite a while, but once acknowledged, they smiled softly.

“Hiiii~!” They waved back, their voice softly toned, sounding a bit unnatural to be yelled in. “Did you two buy that lot?” They asked.

Triffany nodded. “Just got here!” She motioned her tail at the truck.

“Yeah, I’ve lived here for years, it’s the first time in a while I’ve seen someone new here. Need any help getting all your stuff inside?”

They looked at each other, contemplating. Then, Wambus shrugged. “We sure could use it!” He accepted, watching the grumpus stand up, stepping out of their own fenced yard.

They were quickly over, a smile on their face. “I’m Everal Quickiepal.” They held their paw out. Now with a better look at them, they seemed to be a hamster-like grumpus, small in stature with big whiskers. A bit of their fur was turning white, and their soft-spoken voice had a slight spanish accent.

The farmer tipped his hat. “Wambus Troubleham. She’s my wife.” He pointed at Triffany.

“I’m Triffany Lottablog!” She was the one who took their paw, smiling.

“Lottablog..? That name sounds familiar…” Everal looked pensive, then held their arms out. “Here, let me help you.” They took the crate the archeologist held.

“Thanks! And, you’ve heard my family name before?” She stepped back to the truck, grabbing a new crate. Wambus kept quiet, figuring the two would talk without him needing to be involved. The three walked away from the truck, the gate’s padlock unlocked.

“I believe I have… Are you Grumplombian?” The question seemed random.

“Oh, my parents are, but they raised me in Grumpesota!” She thought about it. “They moved back out there recently, though.”

“Ah, yes… I grew up in a big city in Llanos, I think I’ve heard your name in a book.” They sounded unsure.

“You probably heard the name Bronica Lottablog! She was famous back in her days, in Grumplombia and over here!” Triffany was enthused to speak of her family history.

“Yes, yes, that’d be it. What brought you two out here to rural Grumpesse..?”

Wambus was able to answer that. “We've been lookin’ for a place to settle down for a while, and we’ve finally found it.”

“Good quality soil for him, and the nearby dig site for me! I do archeology.” She explained.

“You two are lucky, this lot hasn’t been owned in over a decade. My wife and I have been making sure it doesn’t get overgrown, but we usually stay out of it.” Everal sounded a bit apprehensive with that.

“Why’s nobody owned it?” The farmer asked, his intentions innocent.

“The rumors usually scare them away.”

They all stopped. The married couple glanced at each other, then at the neighbor. “What rumors?” Triffany asked quickly.

“Oh, they’re not really rumors, more… Folklore. Have you ever heard of À La Eater?” They looked more hesitant now.

Wambus scoffed. “Folklore don’t matter to me, I don’t believe in that schtick.” He rolled his eyes, starting to walk again.

“You don’t have to believe in it, it’s just a story going around the area…” Everal started walking too, a bit slowly. They reached the front of the farmhouse, placing all their crates down, then turning back.

“I’d like to hear about it! Even if I don’t quite believe in most cryptids, I’d love to know about this area’s folklore!” Triffany seemed excited though.

“Hm, well… Nobody truly knows what À La Eater looks like, everyone who’s seen it has only seen it running through the brush, marked by the plants and weeds waving around its body. People who have seen its actual flesh through the flora have said its body is far too black and scaly to be a normal animal, and far too good at hiding to get a better look.”

“Probably just a coyote, I’ve dealt with those before.” The farmer crossed his arms, shrugging.

“What does it do?” She continued asking.

“People who have owned the lot have said that, after they saw it running through the brush, they’ve woken up with scratch marks on their doors and porch. They had horrible nightmares in their sleep too, and some of them even heard the scratching- the assumption is that À La Eater is eating their good dreams, and wants to get in and eat their bodies too.”

“Oooh, has anyone ever actually gone missing around here because of it?” Triffany played along.

“They always move out the day after the scratch marks appear.” Everal shrugged.

“Ain’t gonna be me, I’m not givin’ up this land ‘cause of no wives tale.” Wambus said as the three reached the truck again, scoffing.

The three quickly grabbed a few more boxes. “Well, if that’s so, I look forward to having neighbors across the street that last longer than a few months.” They smiled at the couple. “I’d love to introduce you two to my wife sometime, Maple loved meeting the new neighbors, we just haven’t gotten any in forever.”

“Maybe in a couple days, we gotta get settled in tonight and start our work tomorrow.” The farmer shrugged again.

“We’d love to go over for dinner sometime, though!” Triffany smiled at them, the three heading back for the farmhouse. “Know anythin’ about the other neighbors here?” She asked.

Everal chuckled. “They’re gonna consider you very bold for moving into that house.” It got a chuckle out of the archeologist, and a groan out of her husband. “But, the people here are kind, truly. Last time someone moved into this lot, everyone baked some treats or otherwise, like a sort of welcome wagon. It was also for everyone to warn them of the folklore…” Their voice trailed off a little.

“Well, I sure look forward to kind neighbors! Wambus wasn’t a fan of our last neighbor, but he warmed up.” The couple looked between each other. They both knew she was speaking distinctly of Gramble, their neighbor from Snaktooth. But, they’d made a deal with Filbo and the journalist; they wouldn’t tell a soul about Snaktooth. So, they didn’t.

“He wasn’t so bad, really.” He shrugged, thinking about how him and Gramble had been on good terms by then. He wondered briefly how that rancher was doing now. “Speakin’ of the neighbors, you’ve been mentionin’ your wife. Who’s she?” He asked.

“Ah, my dearest Maple. She’d love to meet you two, she’s an actor, I'm sure you’ve heard the name Mapleline Fizzlebean-“ They spoke proudly of their wife, only to be cut off.

“FIZZLEBEAN-?!” The couple stopped and yelled, looking back.

“…Yes?” Everal tensed up, feeling as though they'd done something wrong.

Triffany shook her head. “Sorry for yellin’ hon, but, we know the Fizzlebeans!” She said, smiling.

Wambus nodded. “We met Floofty and Snorpy a while ago. I didn’t know they had a sister.”

“Oh-!” They gasped. “Well, then I’m sure she’ll be even happier to meet you two! She speaks rather highly of her younger siblings, I only met them at our wedding, and that was just Floofty…” They looked dreamily thoughtful.

“Floofty was my friend back on Sn-“ She got a glare from her husband before she could finish. “Sn- sn… Snap. Snapshot Isles.” She stiffened up, her eyes a bit wide. “I met them at the Snapshot Isles on vacation one time!” She smiled awkwardly, Wambus nodding as though to confirm.

They looked a little confused, but let it go as the three reached the porch. “Okay..? Um, I need to go back to my house and check on my dogs. I’ll talk to you guys some other time-!” With that, they turned around, figuring the two could handle the few boxes left.

“Have a good evenin’~!” Triffany called after them, then promptly sighed. “It’s… Awful hard hidin’ stuff about Snaktooth nowadays.”

“Can’t say I don’t agree.” He shrugged, wiping his forehead. “We just gotta let that time go, a’right?” He sat down on the step, tired. They’d get the next boxes after a quick sit-down.

“Yeah… Hm.” A thought seemed to occur to her. “You grew up on a farm like this, didn’t’cha? Did ya ever hear of cryptids of your own?”

He waved her off. “My family didn’t grow up with cryptids, Triffy. We grew up with rats in our walls.”

“…What?” She chuckled.

“Old house, and the walls had room between ‘em. You know what rats do? They go in holes.” He let out a small chuckle as well, smiling at her.

“You didn’t have ta say it in such an ominous way, hon!” She laughed, standing back up. “Come on, we oughta get the last of our stuff.” He nodded, joining her.

They walked back to the truck in silence, relishing the surroundings around their new home. It was all fields around them, the land going for miles without trees or greenery, with the exception being the hand-grown bushes. There was a lot of growing for Wambus to do, and gosh did he look forward to it.

~~~~~~

After a few weeks, the fields were cleaned, plants were sprouting, and they’d tidied the house to their liking. And, as expected, the neighbors did actually stop by on occasions. A younger looking couple came with a batch of cookies as a welcome gift, and one time, a child stopped by just to say hi. Since Triffany had started work, it was mostly Wambus greeting people.

He was home alone, inside and washing some vegetables for dinner later, when there was a knock at the door. “Hm?” He wasn’t expecting company, though, he wasn’t going to ignore it. He supposed the welcome wagon hadn’t quite ended yet. He put the vegetables into a bowl and walked over, opening the front door.

“Howdy.” He tipped his hat, not really paying attention to who arrived. It was a white grumpus on the elderly side, wearing a poncho over their shoulders.

“Hello, are you the new owner of the lot?” They asked, talking slowly.

He nodded. “Me ‘n my wife, but she’s out today.”

“Of course, of course… You know, this place has history behind it.” They smiled softly.

He crossed his arms with a sigh. “So I’ve heard. I don’t believe in no cryptids.” They noticeably frowned when he said that.

“I have lived here for a very long time, boy. There’s some scary stuff in these fields, ya hear.” Their eyebrows furrowed. “À La Eater is simply the worst one. It doesn’t like its land being taken.”

“Uh-huh, and who are you to be sayin’ that?” He raised an eyebrow.

“I am Carmella Quizsparkle.” She introduced. “I’ve watched lots of people move in and out of this lot, families, single farmers, retired couples… They’ve all left because of À La Eater, and-“

“Listen.” Wambus interrupted her. “I appreciate alla y’all worryin’ or whatever, but Triffany and I don’t believe in no cryptids. My wife just likes listenin’ to the history, but she ain’t here, so I ain’t interested.”

Carmella’s lips pursed. “Can’t you humor an old lady’s worries?” She had a bit of genuine worry in her tone.

“If there really is somethin’ to worry about, then tell us how to prevent it. I doubt there’s anythin’ we haven’t heard already about the supposed origins of it.” He glanced back at the kitchen, knowing he wanted to get back to making dinner so it’d be ready once his wife was home.

“Don’t let it see you.” She said quickly and sharply, startling him a little. “Its eyes are too sunken to see, but it can sense you. Do not move, do not look into its eyes, and you will know when to leave.” Her expression narrowed into a glare.

“And what makes you think that?” He huffed.

“Because I knew the first man to look into its eyes. He couldn’t stop sobbing, he described its eyes, its bite, and its maw.” Her expression became very intense. “If you’re so stubborn to not leave after the marks appear, then you will deal with the consequences.”

“I’m sure whatever man said he saw it was losin’ his mind after seein’ a bear or coyote. I know how to deal with those, I’ve farmed since I was a kid.” He crossed his arms, glaring at her.

Carmella sighed. “I’m sure you have, only country boys have stubbornness like you.” She chuckled, “Have fun with the local fauna…” She turned around slowly, stepping down the front steps, then walking away. Her paw steps were so quiet that there wasn’t a sound as she left.

“Uh-huh.��� Wambus went back inside, huffing. “Sure Triffy’s gonna love hearin’ about that…” He got back to cutting vegetables, listening for the distinct sound of a truck pulling into the driveway. Only owning one vehicle meant he was stuck at home while Triffany was at work- not that he minded, any grocery shopping he needed could be done on weekends.

After another thirty minutes, he was almost finished with dinner, and he heard a truck pull into the gravel driveway. Taking a quick look out of the window, he saw the blurry green figure hop out of the front, then walk away to get stuff from the passenger side. ‘Triffy’s home.’ He smiled, looking down at the food he prepared. It’d only be a couple minutes till it was ready, the perfect time.

And so it was, after a few minutes, the door opened. “Iiiii’m hooome~!” Triffany announced, a tiredness in her voice.

“Welcome back.” He greeted, watching her drop her work backpack by the door. “You’re just in time for dinner.” He turned back to the pot he had out, which was still steaming.

“I was hopin’ I’d be! The whole team was so busy today that we just- forgot our lunch break!” She laughed, then winced a little. “I’m runnin’ on a real empty stomach…” She muttered.

“Then you’re lucky, it’s your favorite. A spicy pot roast.” He smiled at her, stirring the pot and tapping the spoon off. “It’s gonna take a minute to cool.” He walked over to get a couple of bowls.

“Aw, hon, you spoil me!” She was audibly appreciative, sitting down at the nearby dining table. “Anythin’ new here?”

“Mmm, plants are nearly vegetative, and I finally fixed that old gate at the back of the lot. Someone dropped by today, too.” There was a slight groan in his voice as he said that.

“Oh, who was it?” She tapped her talons on the table, making a soft click noise.

“Some old lady called Carmella Quizsparkle. Just came with more schtick about that old rumor.” He rolled his eyes, then got ready to divide the roast into their bowls.

“Hm… Y’know, I talked to some of my colleagues today about if they’d ever hearda some À La Eater- said they’d never heard the name. Makes sense, most of em don’t come from this far out, I figure it must just be a local story.” She shrugged, thinking back. “What’d she say?”

“Lotta stuff about how to prevent it or whatever, and somethin’ about a guy who claimed he saw it. A bunch of nothin’.” Wambus grabbed the two bowls, walking back over. “Apparently the rumor’s existed for years.”

“Local rumor gettin’ spread by everyone who lives here, ah?” Triffany smiled as she was served, fiddling with her fork. “It was probably started by the first people who lived here and were tryin’ not to lose the land!” She chuckled, then sighed. “As unrealistic as it is, I’m more keen to thinkin’ it could be real nowadays. Especially after all we went through at…” She nudged her head slightly, avoiding the word. “…Snaktooth.”

“Snaktooth Island was a massive pest, ya hear? That island of walkin’ vegetables was all kinds of crazy!” His tone was a bit loud, as he always got when talking about that part of their life. Then, he sighed. “We’re on the mainland, not no batshit island. Whatever’s goin’ on here is probably just wild animals.”

“I know, I know, and I agree!” She lightly tapped her utensil against her bowl. “I’m still tryin’ to get used to eatin’ certain foods again, that place left a mark.”

The farmer didn’t reply, his claws digging on the wooden table. He was uncomfortable talking about Snaktooth but he knew it was important to be able to talk about it- hell, he avoided burgers like the plague over the last few months. It’d affected the whole crew’s diets pretty drastically.

“…So, what are the methods for preventin’ the Eater?” He figured she was going to ask that.

“Supposedly just don’t move and don’t look it in the eyes.” He shrugged. “Whole buncha nonsense, I know from experience that if you see an animal, the easiest way to get it to buzz off is to yell at it.”

She chuckled, a smile crossing her face. “Yeah, I know how stuck you are to your methods! Can’t say I blame ya,” And the two trailed off into a more relaxed conversation.

~~~~~~

It was a few months later that things started becoming odd.

Triffany woke up early in the morning, simply by nature. She’d gotten used to the schedule of waking up at five in the morning in order to get to work on time, as well as gotten used to waking up alone. She had to wonder how Wambus made it to the end of the day without collapsing while waking up at four in the morning. Her sleep had been relatively undisturbed- maybe there were dreams, but if there were, she didn’t remember them. She stepped out of bed with a yawn, letting the tapping of talons on floorboards remind her that she was truly there. It was time to be downstairs for breakfast.

And as per usual, she was the one being greeted. “Mornin’, Triffy.” Wambus was cooking breakfast, something that looked simple, and just their routine morning meal. He greeted her every morning like that, knowing she was coming when her talons scraped against the floorboards.

“Good mornin, Wamby~!” She said happily, though a bit groggily. She sat down at the nearby dining table, gently scratching around her eye.

That was when she heard something crack. “Gah-!” The farmer grunted slightly with it, sounding disappointed. He sighed. “Another day, another egg white on this apron.”

She chuckled, moving her hand to scratch the fur of her cheek. “That always happens when you try to cook eggs, what is it with ya?” She laughed.

“Eggs fill me with rage, ya hear?” He looked over his shoulder at her, and she knew he was starting a joke. “I always tell ya, my uncle traumatized me that day, I ain’t never seen eggs the same since. Wanna guess why?”

“Cause he lined the doorway with eggs-“

“CAUSE HE LINED THE DOORWAY WITH EGGS!” He put on a fake angry tone, getting a hearty laugh out of his wife. The two found it tradition to tell tales of childhood and get laughs out of one another, the way they always would.

“Alright, egg-hater, when’s the food gonna be ready?” Triffany was still giggling under her breath.

He shrugged. “It’s gonna take another couple minutes.”

She stood up. “I oughta take that time to get my bags ready and my clothes on, the site manager expects us to be there earlier than usual, said some of the equipment we use wasn’t workin’ right.” With that, she walked off.

Wambus chuckled under his breath. Finally being together again like that, in their own home, it made him feel complete again. He remembered those long nights alone like they were a recent memory, despite it having happened months ago. Still, what he would give to never have to experience that again was a broad list.

After another fifteen minutes of talking and eating breakfast, it was time for Triffany to go. “Seeya in the evenin’, hon!” She waved at him through the house, as he was just getting ready to exit from the backdoor into the fields. She hopped across the porch and down the steps, heading down the dirt pathway to the front gate- the key to it jingled in her pocket alongside the car keys. Every morning when she left, she unlocked the gate, and then she’d lock it at night when she got home. It was routine, but there was always a spare key inside for her husband.

She reached the gate, digging through her vest pocket for the key, when… an oddity struck her. With talons like hers, it was obvious that she tended to scrape the ground, with the muddy turf around the gate being no exception. Often standing in the same place under the lock, she’d recognize when something was off- and she did. The ground beneath her was… lower than usual.

“Hm?” She let out a small squeak as she noticed it, removing her foot from the spot and looking down. The mud was disordered, a slight hole in the ground, but no pit. Big enough to trip over, but too small to be a real problem. And finally, there were… rather large claw and paw marks. She looked at it as she unlocked the gate, not thinking too much of it. “Hm, I oughta tell Wamby about that once I’m home- Don’t want him needin’ to yell at bears in the middle of the night!” The realistic assumption was just that; a bear. It wasn’t a bad assumption, they were out in a highly rural area, and the paws just couldn’t be either of theirs. Wambus had hooves, Triffany had talons, and none of their neighbors had stopped by in a long enough time to leave a mark, nor did any of them have lower paws that big.

But, she had no reason to question it further- she’d be late for work if she stalled. Stuffing the key back into her vest pocket, she skipped out into the driveway and hopped into the truck.

And it was not only her who saw irregularities that day.

Wambus was making a routine check around the fields, holding an empty watering can to take to the well in the very corner. He was passing by the very back row, at the end of the lot, when he reached the back gate.

He wouldn’t have noticed anything if he hadn’t tripped- but, his hoof fell into the disturbed mud, slipping and sending him forward. “What in tarnation-!” He yelled, barely holding onto the can he held. Instead, he ended up smacking his chin on the edge of it. “Gah- what the hell was that-?” He asked himself, putting a paw over his chin and looking back.

A similar, distinct dent in the ground. Not too small, not too big. Decorated by claw marks.

‘Damned bears.’ He thought, but had worse things to worry about, feeling the first bit of blood dribble from his cut chin. He stood back up, feeling irritation around the spot, and irritation in his mind. He figured it was about time he dealt with something like that, so he walked the rest of the way to the well, then rested the can there. He’d have to go inside and get a patch for his chin.

As it was now mid-summer, the crop was simple- it was the hottest time of the year, weather only satiating cheese sauce and hot sauce. And yes, the field reeked of peppers and hot cheese. The mix of smells tended to piss off certain local fauna, making them do one of two things; run away from the nearby area, or attempt to break in and eat it to make it stop.

That assumption was his first mistake.

But, it didn’t matter to him right then. He exited the farmhouse and went back to find his watering can, heading back to the well, the overwhelming smell of spice and cheese not bothering him. He’d set up a bear repellant after he tended to the crops, he’d done it a thousand times before, he’d do it again.

“Huh?” Wambus let out a hum, his eyebrows furrowing. “What the hell..?” He walked up to the well, putting his hands on the rim. The watering can was gone- not in the well, on the well, and a quick look around yielded that it was not around it either. ‘Ugh, a damn animal made off with my can.’ That was his thought, not an unreasonable one. There was a shed at the corner at the front of the lot, with a backup watering can, so he brushed it off. If he really cared enough, he’d search the woods later.

As he reached the front of the lot by the metal gate again, he took a quick glance across the street. On a weekday like that, most of the people were out, with driveways hosting no cars. The only other grumps nearby were either inside or busy.

“Hi Mister Troubleham!” Or they were a child. The farmer pushed his hat up, looking across the street, seeing a kid that had said hi to him before.

“Good afternoon, kid.” He greeted back, fiddling with the combination lock on the shed.

“Can I help you with your crops, mister?” He asked innocently.

“I dunno, ya got permission from your parents to?” If he did, then Wambus would’ve let the kid do some little things, but if he didn’t, it wasn’t his place to say.

The child chuckled. “I don’t haaaave parents!” He announced, sounding oddly happy.

“Alright, then who looks after you?” He didn’t question the idea of a kid being raised by their siblings or otherwise, hell, he found out when he met Mapleline that she was the one who raised Snorpy and Floofty.

“My big brother, Trinity!” There was his answer.

“Then ask yer brother, and don’t forget to tell him where you are.” The farmer looked away as the kid skipped off into his house. He looked through the shed for the backup watering can, not thinking much of having a helping hand. Chances are he’d just show the kid something new, teach him the ropes, and maybe let him water something or other.

After finally finding the watering can tucked behind a few bags of mulch, he stepped out of the shed to lock the door again. As he did, he heard steps behind him, and looked over his shoulder.

“I got permission from my brother!” He said happily. Now with a better look at the kid, his appearance was clearer- he was a pastel yellow grumpus with deer antlers, and hooves to match. He had curly fur that covered the top half of his green eyes, his nose and paw pads having light green details.

“Didja get a time limit?” He asked, needing that clarification.

He shrugged. “All he said was to be back by sundown!”

“Alright, then that gives us a lotta time to show you the ropes. You ever farmed before?” He bent at his knees, getting to the kid's level.

He shook his head. “I’ve only ever planted stuff in video games, and Trinity says that’s a lot different.”

“Alright, then I’ve got a lot to show you.” Wambus grabbed the watering can again, starting to walk away, motioning for the child to follow. “What’s yer name, kid?” He realized he hadn’t asked.

“I’m Eleck Bumblefly!” He introduced happily. “You’re Mister Troubleham, right?”

“My name is Wambus, but you can call me Mister Troubleham if that’s what you prefer.” He shrugged.

“Okay!” Eleck accepted, then looked around. “Do you… Live alone here, mister?”

He let out a chuckle. “I live with my wife, kiddo. She just ain’t home durin’ the day.” He explained as the two entered the field. “I gotta fill up this watering can, but once I do, I’ll show you the ropes of how to get around. But I gotta warn you of somethin’ first.” He stopped, turning around. “If you see some kinda movement ‘round here that ain’t us, tell me. Farms like this are easy places for small animals to sneak around, and even if they ain’t gonna hurt a lot, I’m not lettin’ you get bit by nothin’ under my watch. Got it?”

He nodded. “Got it! I do a lot of research on animals, I think they’re all cute!” He didn’t seem to fully get the message, but he agreed.

“You can find them as cute as you want, just tell me if you see one.” With that, they reached the well.

Eleck stood on the tips of his hooves, looking inside. “Wooow, I’ve never seen a hole so deep before!” He could barely see the water at the dark bottom.

Wambus waved for him to get down, attaching the watering can to a hook. “It’s the main water source for the house and here, we’re too far out to have an electric one.” He explained, using the rope to lower the can. “I do this whole process, day in, day out, for the sake of my crop.”

“You water all of these every day?” He looked out across the field, surprised.

“If I ain’t gonna do it, who will?” He asked, knowing there was no answer. “Once I’ve got this up, I’ll show you the basics. Just let me know once you’re done and I’ll take you back to your home.”

“Alright!” He seemed happy with that. Then, the two got to work.

End Of Chapter 1

[creativeashproductions]

Streetdogs and Chest Compressions // Evan Buckley

IN WHICH: Reader reconnected with her estranged younger brother in the cruelest of ways as the 118 is called the scene of three young men suffering after eating streetdogs. Unfortunately, this is how Buck meets the future brother in law he had no clue even existed.

Warnings: Swearing, family problems (aka estranged), withholding personal information, angst, medical emergency, and fluff

Words: 4.7k

A/N: This fic is a crossover between Julie and the Phantoms and 9-1-1 in which Luke, Reggie and Alex eat the streetdogs in modern times. Don’t worry, someone still dies. Reader’s nickname is Spitfire 

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Masterlist

It seemed Los Angeles was taking pity on the 118 with not even a single fire to be put out or medical needed. It was slow. Painfully slow, and you weren't even halfway through the twenty-four-hour shift. Hen and Chimney had taken the circular table for a card game, Bobby was reading a new cookbook. Eddie's Abuela had brought Christopher to the firehouse for his online schooling, the Diaz's wifi was malfunctioning. Buck and you had snuck off the bunk room to catch some sleep.

"Lazy movie day?" Buck asked with his arms tightly wound around your hips. Your form almost rested entirely on his front due to the narrow bunk.

"Wouldn't have it any other way." You replied to the content man underneath you. You could only hum as he shifted to kiss the top of your head, "Now shh. I want to slee-"

The bell sounded before you could even finish your sentence, "And what I didn't want to happen just had to spite me."

Buck and you hurried to quickly pull on your turnout gear before hopping into the respective seats you used. Eddie across from you, Buck driving with Bobby in the Captain seat. Hen and Chimney in the ambulance tailing you.

"We have three males in their late teens. Ate hotdogs in an alley before collapsing in the process." Bobby informed his team all the while he watched the road, "One is profusely puking, one's unconscious, and the last one is stable."

"Thinking it's food poisoning? That sudden?" Buck inquired with a swift glance from his position of driving. Bobby shrugged in response just as Buck eased the fire truck to a half near a crowded alley.

You were the first one out of the firetruck with your medical bag and halfway to the alley before the team could get out.

"Make some room!" You shouted among the heavily populated area, curious about the medical emergency.

Everything slowed down as you pushed between the last two people into something you called your worst nightmare. Three teenage individuals settled on their sides in unconscious states had been a fixture in your youth. Your eyes stayed pinned on the prone figure of your little brother.

It was like being underwater. Nothing could be heard, and it felt like you were in the process of drowning. It was the first time seeing Luke since you stormed out of your family home back when you were eighteen years old.

It was the same old unchanging story playing for months now with only the new addition of an audience. It was the middle of a blistering summer in Los Angeles, but it was the most heated in the Patterson household. You'd been at the movies with your best friends while your mother, Emily, was putting your laundry away.

Emily's hand had bumped your dresser by accident in her process of closing your socks drawer. The Patterson matriarch and her husband would never invade their children's rooms, but her keen eye had noticed the pamphlet; nothing serious like teen pregnancy but it was surprising.

Emily was holding a recruitment pamphlet for the Los Angeles Fire Department marked with your handwriting. Her heart dropped in sync with the front door slamming shut.

"I'm home!" You called out from the entrance. You didn't hear as your mother wandered into the open space. Her eyes flaring in both anger and fear; when a person is scared, they lash out.

That's what Emily did.

"What is this?"

Your eyes found the item in her hand that genuinely made your blood freeze in your veins. This was not how you'd wanted her to find out about your career decision.

"I'm applying. I graduated high school, and hopefully, I'll be train-"

"Like hell, you will! You're going to college and getting a real job! This won't take you anywhere Y/N Y/M/N Patterson!" Emily snapped just as Mitch came through the back door with your ten-year-old brother Luke.

"What's going on?" Mitch questioned as soon as he felt the tension between mother and daughter. Luke was quiet amongst the adults speaking.

"Your daughter isn't going to college. She's going to be a firefighter.

"Spitfire?"

A smooth hand startled you with the clap on your shoulder and Hen looking at you, "Are you okay?"

"I-" You shakily attempted to speak but alas had to be gently settled on the ground before you keeled over and hurt yourself. Your uniform, long sleeves this time, felt constricting as the guilt nearly swallowed you whole.

"Hey, Cap? I think I know why those three are like that." Buck called out from a sketchy grill by an even sketchier condiments table. The table being a rusted Oldsmobile manned by a greasy dude and his girl.

Even from a distance, you could smell the chemicals wafting off the unsanitary set up that would put a health inspector in a casket. 

"One's waking up!" Chimney spoke from the slump of pink and denim fabric. A curtain of blonde '90s style hair mussed on his head.

"Look, Y/N, I need you to dig deep to help these three boys. They have long lives ahead of them and need our A-game." Hen spoke with her hands, already checking one of the teens for broken bones.

Your eyes closed with a deep breath before you moved towards the boy on the other side. Eddie shifted to allow you room to check him over.

"Strong pulse. Breathing is good." You clinically informed your team, "Eddie can-"

"What happened?" The gruff voice spoke from behind you. As expected, Alex's voice had deepened in the years you'd gone without seeing Luke or his friends.

"You got this one?" You asked Eddie without waiting for a response; you were by Chim's side with a soft smile. Alex's eyes widened momentarily, "Hey Alex."

"Y/N?" Alex nearly gasped in shock. His shock seemed contagious as your entire team from the 118 caught it, "What's going on?"

"You ate some bad hotdogs and needed our help. We're gonna get you to the hospital. I'm worried you ingested battery acid." You spoke, understanding that Alex would prefer details instead of the lack thereof. Even from an early age, he'd been anxious.

"Oh. Are the guys okay?" Alex softly asked with his eye blinking as a strand of his blonde hair caught in his eyelashes. You slowly nodded in response without really knowing the status of Reggie and Luke.

"Eddie, Buck, can you get him loaded in the ambulance?" You called over your shoulder once you'd finished your thorough examination of Alex. The sound of boots on the hard ground appeared before they appeared.

Eddie and Buck swiftly loaded him on a gurney, but Alex's eyes widened, "Why are there two hot guys touching me? Oh my god. Do you see the cute guys too?"

You snickered as Alex's failed attempt at a stage whisper, "Yes. Alex."

"I've been blessed as a gay man." Alex breathed with a cute little grin plastered on his face, "Maybe I should eat more streetdogs-"

"NO!" Eddie, Buck, and you collectively shouted in response to Alex's delirious comment. He was loaded into the ambulance beside Reggie's gurney.

"I'm gonna jump in with the other guy in the ambulance." You quickly informed your boyfriend and Eddie. Each shared a look before Eddie slammed his fist on the back of this ambulance. It rolled away, and you jogged to the one Hen was driving.

Buck was there giving you a hand into the back of the ambulance with one of the other paramedics. You couldn't meet his eye when you were staring at the unconscious but thankfully alive body of your little brother. Your eyes couldn't be pulled away even as the ambulance started driving away.

Buck momentarily stared after the leaving vehicle until it turned a corner leaving him with his crew and questions. Eddie kept by Buck's side on the return to the firetruck in unusual silence. It wasn't often that Buck was quiet.

"What do you think that was about?" Eddie inquired as the truck pulled onto the street to follow the ambulances to the hospital, "Y/N knew the conscious one-"

"-and the one in the ambulance she jumped in. Kept staring at him like he'd disappear out of her sight." Buck supplied, staring out the window to the passing buildings. His blue eyes are unable to focus on the looks Bobby was sending.

Bobby attempted to bring Buck into a conversation, but each attempt was a failure. Neither Bobby nor Eddie knew how to make him feel better or why he was feeling off. 

Whereas you kept a hawk-eye on your brother's stats the entirety of the drive. The ambulance had only just entered the parking lot when his stats dropped. A long beep sounded, alerting you that Luke's heart had stopped.

"Goddamnit." You swore as you started leaning over Luke to start compressions. In order to continue compressions, you clambered into the gurney as the back doors opened.

"Hold compressions!" Eddie exclaimed once, seeing the situation, "No pulse."

You continued even as the gurney entered the hospital, and a doctor was there, "We got it."

You did as the doctor had subtly implied by climbing off the gurney, leaving the medical professionals to continue. You followed your brother's unconscious body to the surprise of the 118; you had never tried to follow the patient. It was more of Buck's issue.

"Y/N, our job ends here. You know that." Bobby spoke with Hen, Chimney, Eddie and Buck flanking his sides. Your e/c eyes shifted between the brown of your Captain's eyes and the blue of your boyfriend's eyes.

"It doesn't end when I just did compressions on my little brother." You informed him, "Write me up. Suspend me if you want, but I need to be in there."

Bobby's eyes softened, "Your shift is almost over. Just come in early on your next shift; you can make breakfast."

"Thanks, Bobby." You softly informed the man who'd become both your boss and a pseudo father. He only nodded in response with your friends beside him with different expressions, "I should get in there."

Without waiting for another response, you'd already entered the ER through the ambulance bay sliding doors. You went straight to the nursing desk with sure steps.

"Hi, I was in the ambulance that brought in a young male teenager. Shaggy brunette hair, caucasian. He was in a separate ambulance from his two friends." You spoke once the head nurse had turned his attention to you, "He was getting compressions on his way in. Name Luke Patterson."

"Are you asking as a paramedic?" Jude questioned with his fingers tapping the keys of the computer. 

"No. He's my brother." You sighed, bringing the sympathetic brown eyes of Jude to look at you. The look changed a degree when he read the sentences on the screen.

"Are you aware your brother ran away from home? There's a social worker on her way."

Your jaw dropped in surprise, "Ran away? He ran away?!"

Jude flinched at the screech of words you accidentally released to both your and Jude's horror in the quiet ER. Jude turned the screen to show a digital missing person's poster with your brother's face on it.

"He's awake." Jude supplied, having deciphered and guessed correctly you'd gone a while without seeing your brother, "I'm off shift now, but I can bring you to him. I'll let the social worker know."

The nerves grew each step closer to the room your brother was stationed in for the time being with Reggie for comfort in the neighbouring bed. Part of you wished Luke would be asleep to avoid the confrontation about to happen. Only Luke's hazel eyes turned to see him in his pause of puking.

"Hey." You softly breathed into the quiet room. Luke's breath caught in his throat, "You ran away?"

"Guess we're more alike than we thought. We both run when it gets tough." Luke's words were all snark and poison to your heart. His hazel eyes glaring into your own eyes with anger that covered up the pain, "Hope this is just a delirious episode."

Your eyes squeezed closer, "Luke-"

"What? Are you gonna apologize for abandoning me? The only reason you're reaching out is that you happened to be the medic!"

You could physically feel your heart clench, "No. I tried reaching out. Mom and dad don't answer the phone. You didn't have a phone, and like hell, they'd give me the number either. The letters and-"

"Excuse me? Ms. Patterson." Both Luke and your attention shifted the entrance. A well put together woman stood with a clipboard, "I'm Beth. A social worker and I'm afraid you aren't allowed to speak with Luke alone."

"I'm his sister."

"Barely." Luke hissed, avoiding looking at you by looking over at Reggie, "I'd like to be alone."

"I can respect that. Here's my number if you need anything, Luke. Seriously, night or day, I'll answer. I know how it was living in that house, but you have someone to run to. Me." You firmly told the stubborn teenager, "Listen to Beth. You can't live on the streets Luke, it's not fair to you or anyone else. I'll ask my friend to keep an eye on you."

Had you not noticed Luke's jaw clenching, you'd have thought he hadn't heard you, "Whatever."

"Beth, have Reggie or Alex's parents come yet?"

Beth nodded, "I'm not supposed to reveal that, but yes Mr and Mrs Peters are talking to the doctor. Alex was moved into a room. They'll all make a full recovery."

You cast one last look at your little brother curled up in the hospital bed, a stark similarity to the night you returned home, only for your things.

It wasn't an accident you chose to return to your childhood home on Thursday night with the schedule on the fridge memorized. Every second Thursday, your mom attended the PTA meetings for Luke's school. Your father would be home but most likely asleep in his recliner, but if he was awake, it wouldn't be bad.

Your father was more lenient than your mother, even if he shared the same mentality.

"I was wondering when you'd come back," Mitch spoke from his recliner with the side table holding his drink. A glass of your mom's homemade lemonade, "Your mom-"

"I'm not staying." You firmly spoke on your way to the hallways where the bedrooms were positioned. You could hear the soft steps of your father's well-worn slippers.

"What?"

"Look, Dad, you can't leave the house, but I can. I'm not staying in this place with her stifling ideas. This is my life. Just because she decided to be a stay at home, mom doesn't mean she gets to make my decisions and live through me." You informed the man while shoving clothing, items, toiletries, among other things, in the suitcase.

"Y/N, firstly, that is not how to speak about your mother. She sacrificed to take care of this family. Luke looks up at you, don't give him a bad impression of our family."

"No."

"If you walk out that door without apologizing, then you are not welcome back until you do so." Mitch's voice came out in that fatherly authoritarian tone. The no-nonsense look in his eye nailing the coffin in your decision.

"I'm not apologizing for choosing a career of helping other people. Of being a step for someone to live and not die. So what if it's not a teacher, a lawyer or some other bullshit 'acceptable' career. I love you, dad. I love mom too and Luke. But I'm not subjecting myself to a desk job with no drive in it."

"Where will you stay?"

"I have a place. I'll call to talk with Luke. I won't 'poison' his mind with ill thoughts of mom. But I won't lie to him either."

Mitch was stock still as you glanced into the bedroom next to your childhood bedroom. Luke's room was still decorated with spaceships and stuffed animals. Your eyes watched the rising of Luke's back as he breathed from his curled up position.

You couldn't help but walk to kneel at his side. Your hand brushed his soft hair from his forehead. You drank in the look of pure content and innocence on his sleeping face.

"Y/N?" Luke mumbled with his bleary eyes blinking, "You're home."

"I have to head out. I'll call you tomorrow."

"Okay," Luke spoke mere seconds before his breathing evened out once more.

That was the last night you'd been in the home. Luke sat next to the landline phone the next night, waiting for a call that never came. Your parents had unhooked the line. Luke sat on a stool beside it for weeks before his hopes soured.

If only you'd known leaving your parents would mean souring your relationship with your brother. Than maybe you would have reached out for his benefit and your self-proclaiming selfishness

"Thought you'd need a ride," Buck spoke from his position leaning against the wall still in his uniform. There was definitely a new tension in the air between you and him, "We'll grab our things from the house than go home."

"Thank you." You softly spoke to Buck. The weight of keeping your family secret dragged your shoulders down. You couldn't help but wonder if this was gonna cause a fracture in your relationship.

"No matter what. I'll always be here." Buck told you with his arms coming to wrap around your shoulders. He led you through the ER, you'd waved at the shocked parents of both Alex and Reggie, "Who-"

"Luke's friends' parents."

"Okay, so your family lives just outside of the city in Los Felix?"

"Feliz. They live in Los Feliz, from what I know. I haven't been back since I was eighteen." You chuckled, "I want to stress that my parents are abusive or neglectful. Not even bad, but my mom had this idea of what my life should be like."

Buck hummed with his right arm around your waist, and his left casually balanced on his outstretched leg. A bottle of beer loosely gripped in his left hand.

"How old is Luke?"

"He'll be eighteen in August. When I left, he was ten." You mused, leaning into Buck's side, "I think that's why Maddie and I get along so well. We're both big sisters with a significant age gap to our brother."

Buck hummed, "Why did you keep it from me?"

"It hurt. It still hurts just thinking about it. They unhooked the landline the night after I went back for my things." You recalled the agony at having an olive branch snapped off, "I promised to call Luke, and I wasn't able to; they'd disconnected the landline. Imagining the look of hurt on Luke's face was enough to keep me from physically reaching out."

"I wish you had trusted me." Buck finally admitted with the last swig of his beer in the middle of his words, "We're engaged. We're looking at houses, but you never told me about your parents. About your brother. Above your life before the 118."

"Buck. I trust you with my life." You urgently informed the firefighter. Your hands cupped his cheeks to ensure his eyes focused on yours. You wanted him to see the truth, "You are the most important piece of my life. You and the 118 made me feel at home from the moment I joined. Buck, you are my family."

That look courtesy of his parents' actions faded ever so slightly from his eyes, "You guys are my family too."

"I'd like you to meet my little brother when we can reconcile." You announced into the cool summer night. Your drink had been long gone in the process of working through seeing your brother again, "I never thought I'd see him as a patient I'd have to help. Seeing him pale and unconscious nearly destroyed me."

"But he made it."

"He texted me 'didn't die' with the rock 'n roll hand emoji." You deadpanned, recalling the emotional two days for news. You were kinda shocked that Luke had even reached out at all.

Buck couldn't have successfully hidden his laugh if you weren't currently leaning against his body.

"So Albert found an apartment. He won't be moving with us." Buck changed the subject with the same ease he'd always held at knowing you. This was just another one of the moments you were thankful for having him by your side.

"So now there's not a reason to search for a bigger house?" You questioned with a crease between your eyebrows.

In the last two years, several significant changes have been impacting all areas of your life, especially the personal aspect. Buck had proposed during a picnic hike about a year ago with the mutual agreement for a long engagement; his parents didn't believe it was for anything other than pregnancy. Additionally, working in the same firehouse made planning difficult and then your apartment lease bringing the conversation of houses.

Originally Albert would rent part of the home out, so it needed at least three bedrooms.

"I mean, we don't have to not look. We've talked about children and settling down." Buck softly offered with a hesitant smile on his face, "I wanted to talk to you about it, but do you think we could talk about a possible time to start trying-"

"Y/N?"

The two adults went on high alert as Luke wandered into the gated garden your apartment building had. Buck's arm slid off your body as soon as you climbed to your feet at the sight of Luke.

"Luke?" You softly gasped, revelling in the sight of your little brother. Physically he looked fine with the addition of bloodshot eyes, "What's wrong?"

"I-I didn't have anywhere else to go." Luke choked out, sliding the battered old backpack off his shoulder onto the duffle at his feet. Luke's hazel eyes glimmering in the setting sun, "I got into a fight with mom and dad."

"Please tell me you didn't run away again." You heavily sighed in your movement to grab his backpack from the ground. Buck was quick to grab the duffle bag from the ground.

"I'll get the air mattress. Let Albert know not to bring his date home." Buck murmured in your ear low enough only you could hear, "I'll heat up the leftover Chinese."

The Patterson siblings watched as Buck entered the opening to the back of the building's secured backyard. Luke's backpack slung over his shoulder, and the duffle in his right hand.

"How did you find where I live?" You asked the emotionally seventeen-year-old with those puppy dog eyes. The eyes with the colour you wished you had inherited instead of your e/c.

"I saw 118 on the inside of the ambulance. I found the firehouse, and after procuring 'evidence', one of the paramedics told me where to find you." Luke shrugged, "I would have gone to Bobby's garage we use as a studio, but...he bailed on us. Reggie tries to get away from his place, and Alex's are assholes."

"The Peters are still married?" You scoffed, recalling the tense moments between little Reggie's parents. A cloud followed the couple around everywhere they went together, and Reggie was always caught in the middle.

"If-if this overstepping, I can find another place-" Luke began to respond on the walk down the inside hall to your apartment door.

"And make my struggle with the cursed object redundant?" Buck joked from the kitchen with a plate filled with warmed up food. Maybe the universe had a plan when Buck accidently over-ordered food from the restaurant.

"Luke, just stay here. You can have something to eat and rest up. But we need to talk about this. Running away is never a solution to your problems." Your stern voice reminded you of your mother when you broke the rules, "You need to let mom and dad know you're crashing at my place. They don't know my address."

"We got your back." Buck cemented to the quiet teenage boy that he saw a lot of himself in. A little kid living in the shadow left by an older sibling, only Luke's still lived.

"Oh!" You exclaimed with a shake of your head, "I'm sorry. Buck, this is my little brother Luke. Luke, this is Evan, my fiance."

Luke's eyes widened at the title, "Hi."

"Everyone calls me Buck."

Buck, Luke, and you shared stories of your lives in the times you'd gone without each other while Luke ate. By the time he shovelled the last bite of chow mein in his mouth, you'd caught up enough for the time being. He used the shower and settled into the air mattress sheets on the floor a fair distance from the couch Albert slept on.

"So I guess we'll be finding that house anyway?" Buck inquired under the stream of water from the showerhead. His hands massaging the shampoo into your scalp, the action intimate without a sexual motive behind it.

"How-"

"I could see it in your eye. We can see if your parents would be willing to meet up to talk about Luke. Maybe have him stay with us temporarily, give them space without your parents not knowing where he is." Buck murmured as he caressed your sides with his calloused hands. His forehead leaning down on your own forehead.

"I haven't been home in years. I'm not sure how they'd take us stepping on their toes."

"Then we tell them how it is. Their decision drove their youngest child away, and that almost killed him. He's almost eighteen, and then he can make his own legal decisions. Be the person we both wish had been there when we were his age."

And that's what you did. Buck and you met up with your parents at your childhood home to your horror and Buck's delight. He'd never gotten to see pictures of a younger you, but Maddie had brought his baby pictures for you to see the first time you met her. While your mom had fixed some of her lemonade Buck had toured the photos hanging on the wall.

The conversation itself was tense and combative, but in the end, your parents agreed that they'd prefer Luke to be safe than missing. Life was looking up. 

"Hey," Buck murmured with his arms wrapped around your midsection. His blonde scruff scratching your cheek as he slumped over you, "Is that-?"

"Evie's babysitter?" You supplied with a raised eyebrow towards your now husband's laser focus on your brother.

After your relationship with your parents started healing, you had walked down the aisle in white to Buck. You had settled into the dream house with Luke taking one of the bedrooms. The other bedroom put to use when you got pregnant with Evelyn, Evie for short, to your shared joy.

"He likes her." Buck teased, watching the interaction between the two young adults on the main floor of the 118 fire house.

Eight-month-old Evie chewed on a rattle in the arms of her careful hold of her babysitter, but Evie's eyes watched her uncle. Luke, however, was focused on the beautiful and smart girl he knew from high school; they knew of each other but never acknowledged each other. Luke had already graduated when they first came into each other's worlds. Julie threw herself into babysitting to distract herself from both music and her mother's death.

"She's why the band doesn't practice in our garage?" 

"It's a whole thing." You mused with a shake of your hand, "She lost her mom and music. By complete chance, he walked in on her, singing a song to settle Evie. One thing led to another, and Luke formed Julie and the Phantoms with her, Reggie and Alex."

"They formed a band?" Buck beamed, hearing the recent news, "I thought they'd never find their way back to it."

Around the time of your wedding, Bobby had a family emergency involving his uncle Trevor and his cousin Carrie. You'd gone back to work shortly only to be called to the scene of a fatal accident, the victim being Bobby Wilson.

"Julie is Luke's ideal girl. Good with kids, kind, smart, shy, and shares the same passion for music. They bring out the best in each other. They brought music back to each other." You informed your husband with that lovesick grin that was resigned solely for his impulsive ass.

"Kinda like us?"

"Yeah. Like us."

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