#and that he wanted to be the one to tell him so hopefully this will get touched on in the next episode

[sangwookisser]

⭒DUMMY - THANOS⭒

cw: slight bimbo! reader, name-calling, degrading, corruption kink, naive! reader, oral sex (m receiving), cum eating, dumbification, semi public sex (there's a camera in the room), hair pulling, dubcon

a/n: if this does well ill hopefully write a part two :)

Ever since you'd arrived to this shithole, Thanos had been on your case. He was sort of sleazy, flirting with any girl who'd look at him twice, but it was clear you were his favorite.

From Thanos' experience with women, most would act uninterested and secretly want him, or be uninterested and tell him to go fuck himself. Either way, he could probably get a clear read on them after one or two conversations. You, on the other hand, were impossible to decipher.

He'd never met someone as meek as you. You'd scurry away and lower your head if he so much as looked at you, you'd listen to his voice and be sure to avoid the location it was coming from, and you refused to respond to him. You just bowed and apologized and ran away.

Like a fawn.

He'd never been so fascinated by someone before. You had these huge doe eyes with long fucking lashes, and whenever he'd tease you too much, they'd get all wide and glassy and your lip would wobble, then you'd run away with your hands over your ears. He wasn't sure if you thought he was going to wring your neck the second you let your guard down or something, but shit, the way your eyes looked when they were red rimmed and watery, or how you'd look up at him and worry your plush lower lip between your teeth, God, it left a throbbing ache in his boxers.

It was a new morning, and he was just aching to come find you so he could tease you or pull your hair a bit to listen to the sounds you'd make, but to his surprise, you'd slept under your bed, curled into a ball with a pillow under your head. Holy shit, you were such a coward. He couldn't believe it.

You were still half asleep when you felt him pulling you out from under the bedframe, and your head lolled, your vision blurry and unadjusted to the light. His dick twitched with interest as he sat you upright in front of him, holding your arms so you couldn't run.

He brushed his hand over your smooth, silky hair, watching the way you shivered and looked like a lost baby animal. You were so soft, he thought. From how close he was sitting, he could see the little freckles dotted on your nose, small, but there, the way your lower lip was raw from your anxious biting, and the way your pupils slowly contracted as you focused your vision.

You whined anxiously, not understanding why he was examining you so closely.

"Why are you so scared of me, hm?" He asked softly, holding your face now, watching you, analyzing you.

You didn't speak, petrified, and he let out an annoyed sound, squeezing your face in his hands as you whimpered at the contact, your eyes filling with those stupid fucking tears as if on cue. He squeezed more, watching the way your lips squished together, pink and plush, like soft cherries. Fuck, he wanted a taste.

He leaned in...

"Hey man, are you going to the line for breakfast? We gotta hurry if we wanna get ahead of all these hungry bastards."

Thankfully, his friend came up behind him and startled both of you, making Thanos jump a bit. He's pissed out of his fucking mind as you take the opportunity to bolt, just like always. Thanos could punch something. He grunted and scowled at his friend, shooting you one last look before he stood up and roughly shoulder checked the idiot that made him lose you, as he stalked away with a scowl.

You walked into the spacious, circular room with trepidation, wringing your hands together. By now, a lot of the players had found teams or integrated themselves into tight knit groups, but you didn't fit in with any of them. Moreso, you didn't trust anyone here. You follow the crowd onto the platform and stand on one of the inner corners, hoping not to be jostled off and shoved to the ground.

The P.A. system announces a game called Mingle, where you're instructed to enter a room with a certain number of people before the timer goes down. Naturally, there's not enough rooms for everyone, and you figured a large chunk of people wouldn't make it out of here alive.

Anxiety overwhelmed you as you watched people whisper to one another, making strategies and alliances to ensure they can win the game. You had no one. You hugged yourself soothingly, failing to notice the way Thanos' eyes are trained on you.

You're pathetic. Anyone with a brain would start talking or kissing ass to try and find a group to join, but you just sort of gave up. You wouldn't speak, wouldn't ask for help. You just stood there and accepted your fate. He was so intent on watching your stupid little face scrunch up that he barely noticed the platform start to move and a song begin to play.

When the platform stopped suddenly and the announcer called for ten people, he gestured for his team to follow him before grabbing you by the forearm and instructing his friends to grab a few more people, while he pulled you to a room, holding you still. You looked up at him with surprise and worry, your big fucking eyes all glossy once more.

"What's wrong with you, huh?" He snaps. "Are you trying to get yourself killed? You didn't even fucking move, you're just standing there and waiting to get a bullet in your stupid little head." You whimper, hearing the lock click as Thanos' friends manage to collect enough people in time, while his attention remains on you. Your lip wobbles at the sound of him yelling at you, and he feels his blood heat up a little bit. Fuck, you get to him so much. He just wanted to kiss you, just once. Maybe bite your plump lips. Or put his cock between them.

"'M-mmf... s-sorry, I j-just di-didn't think-"

"Do you ever?" He interrupts you, poking your forehead hard enough for you to stumble, and you pant softly as you manage to catch your footing, your heart racing. "You just stand there all the time and bat your lashes like some stupid little doll. In case you haven't noticed, dummy, your life's on the line."

You nod quickly, the timer ending at the perfect moment as you're able to slide out of the room quickly before you had to endure any more berating comments from Thanos.

He followed you, though, grabbing onto the back of your tracksuit jacket, causing you to stumble back and be dragged along with him as he sets you in front of him in his arms as the music starts again.

The cycle continues.

Though you wouldn't say it out loud, you did feel a lot safer with Thanos herding you around like you were a puppy on a leash. You were guaranteed to find a room each time because he'd throw people out of the way to get to a vacant room first, and you'd be with him each and every time.

Until the last number was called. Two. He pulled you along by your wrist to a room, shoving stragglers out of his path and having no regrets about it, laughing as he locks you two in the cramped room together, the air stale and warm with the faint, unpleasant scent of blood from outside. The timer continues to go down.

"They'll probably have us in these rooms longer." he comments, looking at you as you tremble a bit, shaken and on edge, though you don't know if its because you're alone with him or because of the sound of screams and gunshots that will likely follow sooner than later.

"Wh-why?" You ask softly, and he scoffs, staring at you like he's looking at a misbehaved child. he stoops to your level, pinching your chin between his fingers to tip your head up, rendering your attempts to avoid eye contact futile.

"Because they gotta take longer to shoot everyone 'cause there's barely any rooms left. And they gotta clean up the blood after and sanitize the place."

"O-oh. Why can't they do it after?" You press further. You're not sure if you're so winded and overwhelmed that nothing makes sense to you right now and you feel the need to ask so many questions, but Thanos just seems to think you're the dumbest little thing in the world.

He scoffs and shakes his head lowly, pushing a thumb swiftly past your lips and pushing down on your tongue so any sound you make is muffled.

"Are you this stupid or are you talking just to talk? God, I had to shut up because you were giving me a migraine. That's why pretty bitches like you should just shut up and have your mouth stuffed all the time, because half of you are always dumb as rocks. Why would they do it after, dummy? They can't have dead bodies and blood everywhere and have us walking around in it."

You whimper at the degradation and cruel words, your brain going fuzzy at the salty taste of his digit around your tongue and the mixture of praise in his words. He called you pretty, didn't he? Pretty but dumb... you don't know what to say, and so you slobber a bit as he pushes it deeper, struggling to accommodate it into your mouth.

Thanos, on the other hand, is so focused on your sweet little face and the way your eyes go glassy as you get his thumb wet, the soft motion of your tongue gliding over his thumb turning his brain into mush. And then, he can't take it anymore. He pulls it out of your mouth, slapping your face lightly to keep you present, because he can already start to see you spacing.

"Get on your knees." He says roughly, pushing at your shoulders to guide you down into a kneeling position, and you didn't have it in you to resist.

He grabbed a handful of your pretty hair into his fist, not caring about how long he'd have until it was time to leave. He was tired of the bullshit coming out of your mouth, tired of your big fucking eyes and the way you'd bat your lashes at him and pout without even realizing the effect you had on him, tired of the way you got him so hot and made his cock swell and twitch without trying.

Even now, you stared up at him almost reverently, your eyes confused and so fucking innocent. God. He could only dream of the look on your face when he blows a fat load of cream on it. The thought made him more hard.

He shoved your face into his bulge, the thin fabric of his tracksuit pants doing little to obscure the feeling. You gasped, little hands holding onto his legs to keep yourself steady as he pants, rubbing himself against your face. You had no idea what was happening, and so you shut your eyes, muffled protests leaving your lips.

"Oh my God, shut up." Thanos snapped, glaring down at you. "Shut your dumb fucking mouth."

You tried to pull your head away, and he scowled, yanking your head away from his clothed bulge and staring down at you.

"Take my pants off." He snapped, and your eyes widened. Swallowing thickly, you tried to stand up for yourself. "Bu-but there's people outside," You jumped as shooting went off on cue, and your gaze turned to the door, your heart pounding at what may be going on outside, but he tugged your hair, making you look up at him once more.

"W-we don't know how long we'll be in here, an-and th-" You hiccupped, looking up at the shiny camera pointing down at the two of you, but he interrupted. "I said shut up. What part of that did you not understand? You're lucky I don't tear your clothes off and give whoever's watching a show." He manhandled you so his back was to the camera, blocking you from view.

"There, happy?"

You whined, a little wary, but you knew this was the best you'd get. "Now take my pants off. And my boxers. Now." He snapped, and your throat burned, your mind reeling as you began to peel off his pants, letting them drop to the ground, while your fingers curled around his boxers, pausing at the sight of his bulge. Thick and fat, with dewy moisture collecting at the top, the clear liquid spilling out of the tip.

You gulped again, pulling his boxers down too, causing his fat length to hit your cheek faintly before it stood to attention. You stared at in disbelief. The mushroom head was an angry red, while the shaft itself was thick, veiny, and long, and curved slightly to the left.

He must have thought you were stalling, as he pushed your head forward again. "Stop wasting time, kid. Suck on it."

You frown at the nickname, and hesitate. The sheer size and girth of his cock intimidated you, and you look back up at him weakly. He groans, running a hand down his face.

"Don't tell me you've never sucked dick before."

Your lip wobbles, and you shake your head, lost for words. He scoffs and pushes your face right up to his cock. "Lick the balls first, then the shaft, and then the tip, then get as much as you can in your mouth and suck. It's not fucking hard, dummy. And don't scrape your teeth on it. Shit fucking hurts."

You look down at his plump balls, slowly lowering your head and shyly placing kitten licks on each of them, following his instructions. He grunts, dick twitching with interest at your motions, and he pushes your face more firmly into the sack to coax you to put more pressure on your tongue.

You oblige, licking slowly but steadily, and his eyes glaze a bit as he watches you look up at him for approval while you slowly and steadily lick up his shaft, making your way to his tip where you begin to focus your tongue, swirling it around the head and along the slit. He lets out short puffs of air as he watches you gulp down some of his precum, his head spinning.

You had seemed to have never done this before, but then you stare at him like that, and lick him with such precision that he stops to rethink his decision. He doesn't realize that he's started moaning and stopped being mean to you.

"F-fu-fuck... Ohhh..." Stifled moans leave his parted lips as his pupils blow wide, the sounds making you throb gently in your cotton panties.

"Ju-just like that, sh-sh...shit..." He gently pushes your head down so your mouth wraps around the whole tip of his cock, and his head lolls back as you slowly start to bob your head, drowsy pleasure overwhelming him.

He felt like such a virgin right now. Getting worked up over some silly girl blowing him like he hadn't done this a million times before. Maybe it was just because you were so goddamn pretty. The way your mouth looked stuffed with cock made him fucking crazy. It was so wet and warm inside, and you were sucking him in like you didn't want him to go anywhere. You had to have done this before.

Your tongue traces shyly over the veins on his cock, and you let out a soft gagging sound as his fat cock hits the back of your throat. You splutter a bit, drooling around the shaft as you wrap a tiny hand around the base, twisting and tugging gently. He keens, pulling you in further and shoving your mouth so deep that your nose is nearly up against the neat patch of hair above his cock. You let out a spluttering sound, your throat tightening on him as you gag and breathe in deeply through your nose, your head swimming and your vision blurring with tears.

"Nngh... mmmh... fuuuck," He chokes out. "Shit... ahhh... so fuckin'... ungh... good... su-suck me harder, cmon dummy." He groaned, his hips twitching forward involuntarily, seeking more of that incredible, wet heat engulfing his throbbing cock. The slick, suckling sounds filled the room, punctuated by Thanos' escalating panting breaths and garbled exclamations of bliss.

His chest heaved, muscles flexing beneath sweat-slicked skin as the pleasure built to a fever pitch. The man's eyes rolled back, only the whites visible as he lost himself in the mind-numbing ecstasy of the moment. "Ohhh goddd...just... ahh... like that, gorgeous, use that m-mouth..." If he were coherent right now, he'd slap himself and try to shut up, but he can't. He guides your head into the rhythm he's set for you, listening to the sloppy, garbled sound of you sucking, and occasionally choking on his cock.

At this point, your pussy is soaked and clenched around nothing, light moans leaving your own lips. the vibrations make him tremble, and he nearly stumbles backwards with how good this is. He can't even imagine what your pussy would do to him if your mouth was this good.

The sloppy sounds build in speed as he moves your head faster, loud wails leaving his mouth as he ignores the commotion of the cleaning process going on outside the room. "Ohhh god, I can't... baby... ungh... I'm gonna fuckin' lose it..." Thanos gasped out, his words spilling out in a frantic, babbled rush as he clawed desperately at your hair, trying to hold on to the last threads of his rapidly unraveling control. 

Thanos panted out between gasping breaths, his voice tight with desperation as he felt the telltale tingling rising from the pit of his stomach. His grip on your hair tightened, fingers curling and uncurling erratically as he struggled to hold back the impending avalanche of ecstasy threatening to crash over him at any moment.

"Ahh... fuck... it's too much... too fuckin' good..." he whimpered, eyes squeezing shut as he tried valiantly to stave off the inevitable. With the last dregs of his rapidly fading willpower, he managed to tug at your hair, reluctantly pulling your mouth off his throbbing, pulsing cock with a slick pop. It bobbed obscenely in the cool air, flushed a deep, angry red and leaking copiously as it strained towards its release.

"G-god... unh... I'm gonna... can't hold it... please..." he begged, his tone a desperate, pleading whine. "stroke me... jerk my fuckin' cock... make me cum, g-goddamnit..." His hips jerked spastically, the head of his cock brushing almost painfully against your cheek, smearing slick across the soft skin.

With trembling hands, you grasped his throbbing shaft, feeling it pulse and twitch in your grip. You could feel the heat radiating off it, like a live wire crackling with electricity. Thanos shuddered and let out a strangled moan as you began to stroke him, your soft hand gliding up and down his rock hard length.

Two, three, four rough pumps of your fist and he was done for. "ohfuckohfucko-oohhhh fuck..." His cock jerked and spasmed wildly in your grip before erupting, hot, thick ropes of cum painting your flushed face and gasping open mouth. Ropes of it, slick and sticky, splattering across your forehead, your cheeks, your chin, dripping down your neck and onto your tracksuit jacket.

Thanos could only stare in disbelief as his heart pounds wildly in his chest, hitting his ribs hard as a lithe tongue darting out, its pink tip peeking from between those sweet, cum-glossed lips to lap up the scintillating evidence of his pleasure.

You bring your fingers up to your face, swiping a glob of cum from your cheek to taste it, the salty, slightly nutty flavor pleasant on your tongue. Thanos felt his spent cock give a feeble twitch at the erotic juxtaposition of purity and depravity, his mind reeling at the staggering beauty of the vision before him.

The contrast of such a lewd act on such a sweet, angelic face nearly undid him all over again.

"No… way…" he breathed out, shaking his head in awe and amazement at the erotic spectacle before him. "Fuck… you're… so fuckin' cute…"

Blushing at the praise, you help him back into his pants while you clean off your face with your sleeve, taking off your jacket and tying it around your waist while he hovers over you, his mind a mess. He grabs your arm just as its time to leave, and he grabs your face in his big hands, pressing his lips firmly to yours.

You let out a shaky moan, little hands holding onto his jacket in tight fists while he slides his tongue into your mouth, moaning as he swirls his tongue around yours greedily and swallowing your taste like a man starved.

He pulls away with a soft pop, strings of saliva connecting your tongues as you look at each other with half lidded eyes. He's sure to hold your hand tightly as you unlock the door and leave the room together.

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

The First Time

Pairing || Beefy!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || Bucky takes your virginity.

World Count || 3414

Contents & Warnings || Fluff, Smut — NSFW, 18+ Only, Minors DNI, pet names, virgin!reader, loss of virginity, protected vaginal sex, oral (female receiving), mention of bodily fluids.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

Beefy!Bucky Masterlist

You and Bucky had been in a relationship together for three incredible months now. Before that, you and he had been friends for two years. You have had a crush on him for what felt like forever, your heart skipping a beat every time he smiled at you, but you never had the courage to do anything about it due to your previous relationships.

It took a little matchmaking from your mutual friend, Natasha, who knew that you were both pining for each other, for Bucky to finally ask you out since he had been holding those same feelings for you all along.

One of the reasons that it had taken him such a long time to ask you out was his deep-seated insecurities. The weight of his past still haunted him, and he was terrified that you would end up hurt because of him. But you wanted nothing more than to be with him.

You cherished every moment of your friendship with Bucky, but these past three months of dating had been absolutely magical, filled with tender moments.

One thing that had been absent in your relationship was sex. Bucky was incredibly attentive to your comfort, never once pressuring you with the topic of sex, always letting you set the pace.

During those heated make-out sessions on his worn leather sofa, when his touches became more passionate and his breathing more ragged, he always stopped to check on you, his blue eyes filled with concern and care. When you told him you weren’t in the mood, he would simply kiss your temple softly, pull you close against his warm chest, and hold you there, making you feel safe and cherished.

But you hadn’t been entirely honest with him about something important. The real reason you avoided taking things further during passionate moments was your virginity. Past experiences had made it difficult to open up about it because previous boyfriends had mocked you for it, leaving you with deep trust issues.

But Bucky was different, you knew it. His gentle soul, caring nature, and dedication to your happiness and comfort made you feel safe in a way you had never felt before. Tonight, you were ready to open up to him. You were ready to share this intimate truth with him and hopefully take this next step in your relationship together.

You found yourself on his sofa after an exhausting day at work. Your lips moved together in perfect sync as his strong hands, flesh and metal, held your waist with just the right amount of pressure. Your fingers were tangled in his soft hair, keeping him close as you lost yourself in the moment. The movie playing in the background became nothing more than white noise.

His lips felt incredible against yours, soft yet demanding, as his hands explored your curves with touches that sent tingles through your body. The desire to go further, to feel more of him, was overwhelming. It was stronger than you have ever felt before.

But that familiar voice of insecurity whispered in the back of your mind, bringing a wave of anxiety with it. What if Bucky was just like the others? What if your virginity was a deal-breaker to him? Deep in your heart, you knew he would never react that way.

When his warm hand slipped under your shirt, slowly inching higher towards your breasts, you forced yourself to pause.

“Bucky, wait.” He immediately pulled back, his blue eyes meeting yours with concern, panic flashing across his features. “I’m sorry, doll, if I went too far.” His thumb gently caressed your cheek, his face portraying genuine worry and apology.

“N-no, it’s not that. I-I liked that, I just… I need to tell you something.” He nodded encouragingly, his patient silence giving you the strength to continue.

Here goes nothing.

“I’m a virgin,” you whispered, ducking your head in embarrassment. His fingers gently caught your chin, tilting your face back up to meet his gaze. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I was scared and ashamed that you… that you may not want me if you knew,” your voice trembled as you poured out to him, and despite your best efforts to stay composed, a tear escaped, rolling down your cheek. Your past rejections weighed heavily on your heart in this vulnerable moment.

“Don’t want you?” He shook his head, his expression softening as he caught your tear with his thumb. “I want nothing more than you, doll. I hope I’ve never made you uncomfortable. I never want you to feel pressured to have sex with me. Never.” His voice was thick with emotion, so full of sincerity that it made your heart flutter.

You surprised him with a sweet kiss. The moment couldn’t have been more perfect—his acceptance lifted a weight you had been carrying for so long.

“You’ve never pressured me, Bucky. You have always been respectful and understanding.”

He pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead before leaning his body against yours, his warmth and comfort enveloping you. “How about we just cuddle tonight?” His hands tenderly cupped your cheeks as he placed a feather-light kiss on the tip of your nose.

You shook your head, bringing his lips back to yours in a passionate, searing kiss. The desire coursing through your veins was overwhelming—you wanted him more than ever, you needed to feel him completely.

“I want you, Bucky. I’ve never wanted anything more. Please…”

“Are you sure? We don’t have to if you’re not ready. I can wait for as long as you need.”

“I’ve never been so sure of something in my life as this. I trust you completely.”

In one fluid movement, he pulled you to straddle his lap, making you gasp. The atmosphere was growing heavy with your shared desire and anticipation.

“Say it again, doll,” he murmured in your ear, his lips brushing against your skin as he placed a soft kiss on your cheek.

“I want you, Bucky. Please.”

He picked you up with strong, sure hands, making you shriek with delight as he carried you bridal-style to his bedroom. Laying you carefully down on the plush mattress, he pressed his warm body against yours, and you reveled in the delicious weight of him on top as he kissed you breathless. His kisses were deep and passionate, filled with such pure adoration that your heart fluttered in your chest.

He reached back and tugged off his red Henley, revealing his perfect physique inch by tantalizing inch. Bucky wasn’t just painfully beautiful, he was also hot. Your fingers itched to trace his skin, to feel his perfect body. Next, he slowly removed his pants, leaving him only in his tight black underwear. The impressive outline of him was clearly visible through the thin fabric, making your breath catch.

“Can I please undress you?” His voice was husky with desire but still gentle, his hair falling over his eyes.

You nodded eagerly while biting your bottom lips, your chest rising and falling with quick breaths. Although desire coursed hot through your veins, you couldn’t help but feel shy at the thought of being completely exposed before him. Bucky, ever so attentive, sensed your slight hesitation.

“We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to, doll. We can take things slow. At your own tempo.” His eyes were soft with understanding.

“I want to keep going. I-I’m just a little nervous,” you murmured, biting the inside of your cheek while your fingers fidgeted.

He traced your brow with the pad of his thumb, his touch feather-light and soothing, his voice warm and reassuring. “We’re in this together, You and me. I want to make this as perfect and comfortable as I possibly can for you.”

“Keep going, please. Undress me and make me yours.” Your voice was barely above a whisper, but filled with trust.

With a quick, tender kiss to your lips, he helped remove your clothing piece by piece, his movements slow. As each article was discarded, his eyes grew wider, a dark mixture of adoration and burning hunger. He left you bra and panties on, giving you time to get comfortable. “You are the most beautiful woman I have ever laid my eyes on,” he breathed.

He kissed you passionately before his lips began a torturous journey downward, leaving a trail of heated kisses across your neck, paying special attention to that sensitive spot underneath your ear. His lips and tongue worked together perfectly, making you hum as your fingers threaded through his hair. The path of kisses led him to the valley between your breasts, where he paused to look up at you for permission, which you gave. His hands, one warm flesh and one cool metal, reached underneath you to unclasp your bra. Once removed, his attention was on your exposed skin. He worshiped every inch with his lips and tongue, and when he finally took your sensitive nipples into his mouth, altering between gentle sucks and teasing flicks, you couldn’t help but arch into his touch and release a breathy moan.

He looked up at you, his lips parted and pupils dilated, and hair falling deliciously over his face. Your eyes widened, suddenly feeling self-conscious about your vocal response, but Bucky’s reassuring smile immediately put you at ease.

“I don’t want you to hold back. Make any sound that you want so I know what makes you feel good. I want you to enjoy yourself, doll.” His voice was rough with desire but still so tender.

He continued his descent, placing open-mouthed kisses across your stomach, each touch and kiss sending sparks of pleasure through your body. The further down he went, leaving a trail of heat in his wake, the more your legs parted instinctively, anticipating what was to come. Your body seemed to know exactly what it wanted, even if your mind was racing with nervousness.

Once he was finally nestled between your open legs, he looked up at you through hooded eyes, his breath ragged and pupils blown with desire. “Can I taste you?” He murmured, his hot breath fanning across your covered core, making your back arch slightly and goosebumps ghosting your skin. You frantically nodded, your whole body trembling with anticipation, needing him to continue, wanting desperately to feel his mouth on your most intimate part.

He carefully, and slowly, pulled down your panties, his metal hand cool against your heated skin. Your heart was pounding so hard in your chest you were sure he could hear it. You have never gone this far before, but you trusted Bucky completely. You knew he would take care of you.

Bucky’s tongue traced his lower lip as he saw you bare and exposed, already wet and ready for his mouth. He spread your legs wider with gentle but firm hands to get a perfect view of your pussy, his eyes darkening at the sight before him.

“So beautiful,” he murmured while placing soft, teasing kisses along your inner thigh, slowly working his way towards your waiting pussy. When his tongue finally licked a broad stripe up your center, he kept his intense gaze locked on your face, studying your reactions to learn what made you feel good. You let out a surprise gasp at the unfamiliar yet incredible delicious sensation. He did it once more, this time slower and with more pressure, and you threw your head back into the pillows while gripping his dark locks between your trembling fingers.

“O-oh, t-that’s good,” you moaned breathlessly as Bucky worshiped you with his mouth. His lips wrapped around your sensitive clit, expertly switching between sucking and flicking with his tongue, while his metal hand held your hip steady to keep you from squirming. Your senses were completely overwhelmed with pleasure, every nerve ending on fire. If he kept going at this pace, you were going to come embarrassingly soon, but Bucky took notice and suddenly released you. You let out a frustrated whimper as the pending orgasm was ripped from you, your body still trembling with need.

“Hmm, you taste absolutely incredible, doll. The way you respond to me drives me wild,” he murmured against your inner thigh, his hot breath making you shiver. “As much as I would love to feel you come undone on my tongue as I watch you fall apart, I need to be inside you. I want us to come together, want to feel you wrapped around me when we both let go.”

He captured your lips in a passionate kiss, your tongues dancing together desperately as you savored the taste of each other. His metal hand cupped your cheek while his flesh one traced patterns on your hip. “Don’t move,” he murmured against your swollen lips. “I’ll go get a condom.” He gave you one last lingering peck before pulling away and disappearing into his bathroom. You could hear him rummaging around frantically for the item, cursing lowly under his breath as more drawers were opened and closed on his mission to find a condom. A few moments later he emerged with it in hand, a victorious smile playing on his lips.

You couldn’t help but giggle at his eagerness as he climbed back on top of you, immediately claiming your mouth in another fierce kiss that left you breathless. With trembling fingers, you tugged at his underwear, helping him shimmy out of them. Your hand experimentally wrapped around his length, making him groan deeply against your neck. His mouth fell open as you slowly moved your hand up and down his impressive cock. He was bigger than you’d imagined, and a flutter of nervousness passed through you as you wondered how painful it might be for your first time. But that anxiety was quickly overshadowed by pure want. You needed to feel him inside you, needed his passionate kisses and whispered praises in your ear. You trusted Bucky completely, knowing that he would be gentle and considerate. That he would take care of you like he always did.

You released him from your grip so he could roll the condom on, watching with hooded eyes as he prepared himself. Before you knew it, he was positioning himself between your thighs, his tip pressing against your entrance as he looked deep into your eyes, silently asking permission one final time. “Please,” you breathed out, running your hands up his strong arms. “I’m so ready, Bucky. Please, I want you.”

He slowly pushed inside your tightness, the initial stretch making you whimper and shut your eyes at the slight burning sensation. Your fingers dug into his shoulders as you tried to adjust to his size, your breath coming in short gasps.

“Are you OK? Do you want to stop,” he asked with genuine concern, his flesh hand tenderly cradling your face while his metal one held him upright, the plates whirring softly with the strain of holding back. His eyes searched yours intently, ready to pull away at the slightest sign of stress. “N-no, please keep going. I need you.”

When he was fully situated inside you, stretching you deliciously, he took his time to kiss all over your face—your forehead, your closed eyelids, your warm cheeks—making you giggle. His stubble tickled your skin as his journey of tender kisses ended with an achingly sweet one to your lips. “I love you, doll. Thank you for trusting me with this, with everything.”

That was the first time he had said those three precious words to you and it made your heart almost burst out of your chest. “I love you too,” you whispered, cupping his face in your hands and stroking his cheekbones with your thumbs, “now, please move. I want to feel you take me and make me yours completely.”

He pulled out until only his tip remained inside before pushing back in with excruciating slowness, making you moan and cling to him tighter, your nails leaving marks on his broad shoulders. He repeated this careful motion several times, each thrust helping your body adjust to his impressive size.

“Please, Bucky,” you breathed against his lips, your legs hooking around his waist to pull him closer, begging him to take you properly. Your heels dug into his lower back as your body arched underneath him. He let out a deep, throaty groan that sent shivers down your spine and buried his face in your neck, kissing and sucking your sensitive skin as his hips began to move with purpose against you.

“You feel incredible, doll,” he groaned against your neck, his hot breath fanning across your heated skin, making you whimper sweetly. Bucky took notice of your reaction, adjusting his hips until he found that perfect spot that made you see stars. your whole body trembling underneath him.

He rested his forehead against yours, his blue eyes, dark with desire, gazed deeply into yours as you climbed higher towards release together. Your fingers tangled in his soft brown hair, tugging lightly as his flesh hand snaked down between your bodies to where you were joined, his skilled fingers finding and circling your sensitive clit. The dual sensation of him stimulating your clit and the tip of his cock brushing your sweet spot made your whole body sing with pleasure, your back arching off the bed. “Oh f-f-fuck, I’m so close, Bucky. Please don’t stop.”

He maintained a steady, passionate rhythm, determined to make you fall apart around him. The thought of him being the first, and hopefully only, to ever make you come undone like this had your head spinning, your vision blurring at the edges as pleasure built to an almost unbearable peak.

“Come for me, baby. I need to feel you,” he breathed against your ear, his voice rough with desire. His words sent electricity down your spine and that was the final push you needed. Your pussy pulsed around him as waves of intense pleasure took complete control over your body. You threw your head back against the pillows as stars exploded behind your vision, your fingers digging into his shoulders. With one final, deep thrust, he spilled inside the condom while burying his face in the crook of your neck, his hot breath and muffled moans of pleasure sending shivers across your skin. He continued to move against you with slow, gentle thrusts, drawing out both of your highs until you were shaking underneath him.

As you both started to come down from your shared orgasm, he pressed a series of soft, loving kisses to your lips, making you hum in delight. You hissed at the loss when he carefully pulled out of you, immediately missing the feeling of fullness. He rolled to the side, discarding the condom, before pulling you close, tucking you perfectly against his warm chest. You nestled into his embrace, ear pressed to his chest where you could hear his calming heartbeat, as he traced gentle patterns across your back with his fingertips.

The room fell into a peaceful silence, filled only with the sound of your synchronized breathing as you basked in the afterglow of your shared bliss, savoring each other’s warmth and tender touches. After several minutes of comfortable silence, you were the first one to speak.

“That was absolutely incredible, Bucky,” you whispered against his chest, tilting your head up to meet his adoring gaze. “Thank you for being so sweet and caring, and for making my first time more special than I could have ever imagined.”

“Always, doll,” he responded with a tender smile, his metal hand coming up to gently pinch your chin as he guided your lips to his for a slow, deep kiss. “Thank you for trusting me. I feel like the luckiest man alive to be the first, and I hope only one, to ever make you come like that.”

You giggled softly against his lips, pressing another kiss to them before dropping your voice to a sultry whisper. “Well, lucky for you, Mr. Barnes, you’re the only one who will ever be allowed to make me come like that for the rest of our lives.”

“Hmm, is that a promise, doll?” He playfully growled, his eyes darkening with renewed desire as he swiftly rolled on top of you once more, caging you beneath his strong body. “Because I intend to spend the rest of my life proving just how lucky I am to do so.” His lips descended on yours again, ready to make good on that promise.

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people! I would really appreciate it 🖤

Follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

[callmeizukunotdeku]

The worst part, of course, is why they notice.

It's because Robin got in over his head during patrol and Red Hood broke his no-kill streak.

Bruce's rules snapped back into place, just as taut as before.

Jason pulls back. He doesn't visit anymore and then Alfred's giving him the cold shoulder too. Dick is insisting that he get over himself.

"What was it that made you accept him? What made you okay with him before, B?"

"I...just got some good advice before."

"From who?"

Quietly, he admitted, "Tim."

The name jolted Dick, as he realized that his brother had slipped his mind.

He couldn't remember the last time he talked to Tim.

He couldn't remember the last time he thought about him.

"Call him," Dick said, "and put him on speaker."

If Bruce had taken Tim's advice just once--taken it and implemented it long term--then that was more than he'd ever done for Dick.

Bruce took out his phone.

It rang and rang and then--

"This number is not available."

Bruce furrowed his brow and muttered, "No, that can't be right. This is his contact..."

He messed around on his phone for another minute before calling again, and--

"This number is not available."

Dick swallowed, and thought, bitter and hopefully, that maybe Tim blocked Bruce, before remembering that they didn't want any more problems. Their family couldn't handle going back to the way they were before Bruce came back.

Dick couldn't handle a return to the way things were.

He'd break under the pressure. He knew he would.

Dick called Tim, but--

"This number is not available."

He didn't get a response.

"Try his secretary?" Dick suggested and Bruce called Tam.

And again, the phone rang and rang and--

"You're speaking to Miss Fox, CEO of Wayne Enterprises, how can I help you?"

You could have heard a pin drop in the room.

"Hello? Who is this?"

"Bruce."

"And Dick," he added, "hi, Tam, how've'ya been?"

"Busy," she said, with some amount of humor in her voice, "Tim wasn't kidding when he said this job was grueling. I still wanted it though, and he thought I was the best person for it, so...here we are, I guess. Why are you calling, though? Y'all never call."

"Um," Dick started, not trusting Bruce to form a proper answer, "we were wondering how Tim was doing. We couldn't get ahold of him."

"Oh," she said, voice flatter than it was before, "yeah, he has a new number. I'll tell him you're trying to get in touch with him--"

"Give us the number," Bruce said.

It was silent on the other side of the line before there was a brief beep.

Tam hung up.

Bruce tried her number again, but it went straight to voicemail.

Dick was in the middle of trying to figure out a reasonable plan when Bruce called out, "Clark."

The man was there not a moment later, "Bruce. What do you need?"

"Where's Tim?"

"Ivy, I presume. Why do you ask."

"What's he doing with Pam?"

Clark gave him a confused look. "Who?"

"Pamela Isley? Poison Ivy?"

"He's...I meant to say that he's in Ivy Town. He's been attending university there for a few months now. Kon visits him often--brings him back to the farm, sometimes. Ma loves him--says he's a natural baker but Tim just always argues that it's because he's studying chemistry and--I'm sorry," he cut himself off, "why are you asking?"

Again, it was quiet for a moment before Dick said, "We were just trying to get ahold of him."

"Ah," Clark nodded, "his number changed again, didn't it? Do you want his new one?"

"No," Dick said at the same time that Bruce said, "Yes."

Dick glared at him, "No. We'll wait for him to call us."

Bruce comes back from the dead and wants to make things better. Bruce comes back from the dead and Tim was the one who brought him back, so it's obviously Tim who'll know best how to help him reconnect with everyone.

It's Tim who should give him advice on how to bond with Dick. Dick has always been his idol, after all. Tim would know best how to bring him back, and he does. He gives good advice and the two of them begin to get closer.

So Bruce asks about Jason, too. Asks about how to bring his son back into the fold and Tim wished for a brief and brutal moment that it weren't so obvious who the favorite was.

Tim told Bruce to give Jason his space, to loosen his rules, and make it clear that no matter what the Red Hood did, no matter what the Batman believed in, Jason was always welcome. Bruce would always want him.

It worked. Bruce wasn't surprised. Tim was a special sort of bitter.

Bruce asked again for Damian and Tim had to push down his anger. "That boy tried to kill me," Tim wanted to say. "I hate him and I want you to hate him too so that I can remember a time when we had something in common," Tim didn't say, but he got close.

He instead told Bruce how Damian liked art and animals and loved hearing stories of the wonders of Batman.

He told Bruce just how much Damian loved being Robin. Told Bruce to tell Damian what a good Robin he was.

God bless or maybe damn him, but he did and it worked and Tim wanted to start screaming and clawing at something because that would have never worked if Tim tried it and it wouldn't have stopped Damian from cutting his line--something Bruce did not and would never know about.

Bruce asked about Babs. How should he make sure she knew that she was a part of the family? They they loved her and not just for the work she did?

He asked about Steph. How should he make sure she knew that she was more important than his rules and that, if something else should go wrong, she didn't need to run away?

He asked about Duke. He never got the chance to get to know him before leaving--not as well as he wanted to, at least. How should he let him know that he was just as much a son as everyone else? That, whether or not his parents woke up, he'd always be welcome?

He asked about Cass. How should he show her that he loves her even though he has nothing to teach her? How can he convey how much he cares about her, his first daughter?

Bruce gets brought back from time and he makes things better. He brings his family back together by following Tim's advice.

And Tim?

Tim brings his dad back from the dead and Bruce changes, becomes a better father.

Bruce changes, but not everything can.

That, Tim thinks, is why Bruce never calls Tim his son.

[wondergirlsthings]

From Heartache to Healing

PAIRINGS: lando norris x (ex)gf!reader/joao felix x reader

The text pinged her phone as she sat in the airport lounge, waiting to board her flight back to Monaco. She hadn't seen Lando in weeks due to her work trip abroad, but they’d been texting and calling every chance they got. Or so she thought.

Her best friend’s message was blunt and impossible to ignore:

"I hate to be the one to tell you, but Lando was seen with Magui last night. It didn’t look innocent."

Her stomach dropped, and a storm of emotions swept through her confusion, anger, disbelief. She immediately pulled up Instagram, scrolling through stories. There it was: a photo someone had snapped of Lando at a restaurant, Magui sitting far too close, their smiles too intimate to pass off as friendly.

The betrayal stung worse than she imagined it would. After everything they had shared, after all the promises.

By the time she landed in Monaco, she had already decided not to confront him. Not yet. She wanted to think, to process. But fate wasn’t on her side. As she stepped out of the airport terminal, there he was, waiting for her with that familiar smile that now only made her furious.

"Hey, love," he said, pulling her into a hug. She let him hold her for a moment before stepping back.

"Don’t," she said coldly. "Just don’t."

He frowned, confused. "What’s wrong?"

She laughed bitterly. "You tell me, Lando. Or should I ask Magui?"

The color drained from his face. "I—it's not what it looked like—"

"Save it," she cut him off. "I don't have time for excuses." She turned on her heel, leaving him standing there in stunned silence.

Over the next few weeks, she focused on herself. But that didn’t mean she let Lando's betrayal slide.

That’s when João Félix entered the picture. They met at an event in Lisbon—his charm and warm demeanor were a refreshing change. He didn’t need to try too hard; she found herself smiling at his jokes and enjoying his company without even meaning to.

When Lando called to "talk," she let him stew. He found out about João through social media, a photo of them laughing together during a casual dinner hitting the tabloids.

Her phone buzzed nonstop, Lando’s name lighting up the screen. She ignored every call. She wasn’t dating João to make Lando jealous. Not entirely. João made her feel valued, respected—things she realized Lando hadn’t done in a long time.

The next time she saw Lando was at a mutual friend's party. João had his arm around her waist, his presence steady and reassuring. Lando’s gaze followed them all night, his jaw tight. When their eyes met across the room, she tilted her head and gave him a small, knowing smile.

Let him wonder. Let him regret.

Because she was done crying over him.

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

Hello everyone! This is my first time write and hopefully many more to come

I take requests for F1 and Football players and idk maybe someone else but not sure so far . I hope u liked this!!

[kneazle]

More of the tsunami fic! Probably the weakest part (in my opinion) but I believe we're coming to a close with this soon maybe one more part? 😊 again thank you to everyone whose shown this love, I appreciate it more than you can imagine 💕

Tags are under the cut but let me know if you want to be removed! (hopefully I didn't miss any of you that wanted to be added!)

part 1 • part 2

Tommy breathed heavily, cold seeping into his bones while his skin broke out in a sweat. It was an odd feeling, and one that didn't bode well for him. 

He didn't know how long passed since he lifted them onto the platform. His leg throbbed when there wasn't pain shooting up it, but he could do no more than he already had at the moment, having used his plaid button-up to stop himself from bleeding out like he was. There's no telling if it would hold, but it was something until he could get Jee to safety.

Tommy glanced down at where she was curled into his side and his heart clenched.

He looked up to the sky and closed his eyes for a brief moment. 

Please just let her be okay, please

The air was tense in the engine on the way to the pier. Worried glances were thrown his and Chimney's way but Buck avoided meeting those gazes.

They were on their way back from a quick call when it came in about the tsunami, everyone holding their breaths at the thought of another one. Buck felt their eyes on him and had grinned sadly, a weak joke about at least he wasn't there this time but not fully meaning it as another tsunami meant people hurt, lives lost. 

Until Chimney made a strangled noise from his seat. Choking out that Jee was at the pier with Tommy. That Tommy volunteered to watch her when Maddie got called in for a shift and their normal babysitter couldn't, and was planning on taking her there.

Buck's chest felt empty and constricting at the same time as Chimney spoke on the phone with Maddie for a few seconds. His worry burrowing inside, steadily growing at the sound of their voices. He didn't say a word but shared a look with Chim– yet what right did he have when this was their child? Bile rose in his throat that he pushed down, hands clenching. Jee and Tommy were god knows where and in what state, but Buck would do anything to trade places with them at this moment.

"Uncle Tommy Uncle Tommy!"

Tommy's eyes shot open, blinking rapidly at Jee's shouting and shoves. Fuck. He internally cursed at himself for not staying focused, having felt drowsy– no doubt an infection but there was no time to think more on it.

"Look!" 

He sucked in a breath. A boy of about seven or eight was coming their way yelling and crying for help, holding onto a board that was barely keeping him afloat. Tommy saw this little boy with soaked curls, wet black glasses that slid down his nose– and Tommy turned to Jee, "Stay right there Jee don't move!" He told her quickly.

Tommy jumped back into the water and grunted against the pain as he swam out enough, grabbing for the boy as soon as he was in reach. 

He didn't hesitate to cling to Tommy who held the young boy to him. "I got you buddy, I got you, hang on alright?"

Relief slammed into him so hard when they were all on the platform and Jee didn't move an inch, that Tommy let a tear escape mixing with the wetness of the water. Fear clawed its way in his chest.

"Thank you!" The boy coughed out, body giving a big shiver as his lower lip trembled.

"What's your name kid?" Tommy asked softly. "I'm Tommy and this is my best buddy Jee."

He rubbed at his nose, wiping water from his eyes. "D-Danny."

"Alright Danny, can I know who you came here with?" 

"My b-big brother, he- he got pulled away." Danny whimpered, and Tommy could have cried the way Jee scooted closer, her little hand coming to hold Danny's slightly bigger one.

Tommy wrapped two terrified children in his hold, trying to stay awake and focused on them and not the feeling of his body fighting for sleep with the piercing throbbing pain spreading through him.

Fear wasn't new to him– but this was an entirely new kind of fear he realized.

@not-as-straight-as-i-appear @todd-harper @klutzygirl @eliotwaughdeservesbetter @bidisasterevankinard @comfortingevanbuckley @laundryandtaxesworld @tommykinard @sherlockismarvelous9-1-1 @mmso-notlikethat @iphyslitterator @racerchix21 @a-mel0n @station18908 @beckym2001 @bi-bi-buckleys @loulou-land @tommykinard6 @beanarie @fuselsstuff @chococara25 @owlgirl495 @thestrangestthlng @buckleyskinards @nznaturalkiwi @daughterofscotland @livelaughlou @hyperfocusthusly @teabroomsandbooks @thecarrott @tistai

[luci-in-trenchcoats]

Crash Into Me

Summary: A snow storm is coming down hard and the reader is attempting to clear the driveway of snow before Dean gets home from a long shift. But one wrong move can change their whole night...

Pairing: Doctor!Dean x reader

Word Count: 2,000ish

Warnings: language, head injury/body injuries, mention of car accident

A/N: Fun fact, this story takes place in the same world as one of my previous fics. We'll see if anyone can figure it out 😉

_________

You were panting by the time you’d made your third pass down the driveway with the shovel. Shit, you should have gotten the snowblower out. The snow had looked light but it was wet and heavy underneath, too heavy to push effectively. Plus it was coming down hard, the wind whipping more and more. Dean was due home in less than twenty minutes and you needed to clear it out if he wanted a chance of getting his truck in the drive.

Alright, you’d get the thing out of the back and clear off some room before it got too high.

Not two steps towards the garage, you felt your boot slip on some black ice and you stumbled backwards, cold hitting your back the last thing you registered before it all went black.

With a silent groan, you fluttered open your eyes, finding yourself staring up at the roof of Dean’s truck.

“Oh that’s not good,” you muttered, finding one of Dean’s hands touching your hand, his fiery hot in it.

“Y/N? Sweetheart?” You winced as you sat up, finding Dean turned back in the drivers seat, watching you carefully. “Take it easy. You have a concussion. You were out about sixty seconds from what I could tell.”

“What joy,” you grumbled, holding a hand to the back of your head and hissing. He squeezed your other hand, your gaze locking onto his. “S’just a bump-”

“I was just pulling up the road when I saw you go down and you were lights out. We’re going to the hospital.” You opened your mouth to argue but he growled. “Do you remember that massive car accident you were in eight years ago? How your doctor, me, told you to take any head injuries seriously? Hm?”

“Fine, we’ll go,” you sighed.

“That’s my stubborn girl,” he said, letting go of your hand when you hit an icy patch on the road. “We’ll need to take it slow. Let me know if-”

“Yes, Dr. Winchester,” you said dramatically, feeling an ache in your side you hadn’t before from the adrenaline coursing through you. It was quiet in the truck as Dean drove back to work. The roads were a mess and it was coming down even harder. You weren’t exactly expecting to get out of there quickly but you knew you’d have to wait for a break in the weather before Dean would be able to get back on the road again.

“There we go,” said Dean as he barely drove into the employee parking garage, your eyes darting out the window to see a pair of nurses and a doctor with a stretcher waiting by the elevator. Again, you wanted to argue you were fine to walk but your side was really starting to hurt and you had a feeling you’d bruised the ribs you broke in your accident years ago.

“Well if it ain’t my favorite Winchester,” said Benny, opening the back door for you. 

“Hey, Ben,” you said, slipping out of the car before anyone could stop you. You sat down on the stretcher, Benny nodding to the nurses.

“I’ll be down in the ER in two minutes, sweetheart,” said Dean as you waved him off. 

“I got her, worry wart,” said Benny, shutting the door for you, wrapping his white coat around himself as he trailed after you on the stretcher. It was much warmer in the elevator, Benny shaking the cold off and cocking his head at you suspiciously. “So. How bad does it hurt?”

“My head,” you said quietly. You pointed to your ribs and right hip. “This whole side aches. It feels like when I broke my ribs.”

“Alright. We’ll get you taken care of. Hopefully it’s just a bad bruise.” You tried to relax on the way downstairs, Benny getting you in a room off of the ER where the less intense cases were evaluated. After only a slight argument, you convinced him that you could take off your clothes on your own. You weren’t about to let them cut through your brand new winter jacket.

By the time you were down to your bra and underwear, Dean was walking inside, pouting as he noticed the deep bruises on your skin over some of your old scars.

“You are going to go stand in that corner and let me work,” Benny said to him as he and the two nurses gently rolled you to your side to examine your back. “Alright, we’ll take you for x-rays but my gut says bruised ribs is all. Your concussion is more concerning to me considering your previous accident.”

“What does that mean?” you asked, Benny shining a light in your eyes.

“Just means I want to have you observed for a bit. We’ll do a quick MRI but I’m guessing you’re perfectly fine. Just a little concussion,” said Benny as the doors to the room burst open. Your gaze shot over, Benny still checking your jaw as Dean glanced at the nurse in dark blue scrubs by the door.

“Dr. Winchester! ER 3 needs a surgeon and Dr. Zacariah just busted his ankle in the lobby on some melted snow.”

“Go,” you said to Dean his body already moving after her but his gaze on you. “Now, Dean.”

“Benny, you make sure she’s fine!” shouted Dean on his way out, loud footsteps echoing down the hall. Benny smirked when he was gone, feeling the goose egg at the back of your head.

“Little shit forgets I graduated ahead of him in med school,” he chuckled, running a hand over your head when he finished. “Okay. Everything looks minor. We’ll run some tests and get you admitted upstairs. Kline.”

“Yes, doctor?” asked the young nurse that’d been in with you. Benny hummed.

“Put Mrs. Winchester at the front of the line for MRI and x-rays behind non-critical patients. Stay with her for the night. I have a feeling with the weather, Dr. Winchester is going to be working awhile.” 

“You should go help, Benny,” you said, nodding towards the door. “It’s icy out and I’m sure you’ll have way worse cases than mine to deal with. Go on.”

“Watch her,” said Benny to Kline as sirens sounded outside again. He took off with the other nurse, leaving you alone with the young man.

“So,” you said, sitting up with a wince. “Let’s get me taken care of so you can get back to helping people.”

“I’m sorry ma'am, but I’m not about to piss off some of the most important doctors in the hospital,” he said. “Let me get you on the schedule so we can get you somewhere quieter.”

Six Hours Later

“Hey, Y/N,” said Garth. You popped your head up from your book in the surgical staff lounge and gave him a smile. “Heard you took a fall. How you feeling?”

“Oh, they discharged me a few hours ago. A few bruised ribs and a minor concussion. I heard there was a huge pile up on the highway so I told them to give my bed to someone who needs it.”

“Which only happened because I offered to watch her outside of a room,” said Jack, who was working on charts at a table nearby. “Sorry for working in here. I know non-surgical staff aren’t allowed.”

“No worries, kiddo,” said Garth, going to the coffee machine and pouring a large cup. “I need to take a lunch. Why don’t you head on back to the ER? I’ll keep an eye on her.”

“Thanks,” he said, gathering his tablet and notepad. “I’ll be back in awhile.”

You gave him a wave, Garth taking his seat when he was gone. He stretched in his chair, closing his eyes. “I’m surprised you’re not in surgery.”

“I was the past sixteen hours. Need some food and a few hours of sleep,” he said, glancing up at the clock. “Surprised Dean’s still on his feet. Didn’t he just work a double?”

“Triple,” you sighed, rubbing the back of your head, the swelling gone down thankfully. “He was only meant to do 8 hours and that turned into 24 when Dr. Alastair got sick so Dean covered his shift and then there was an accident. He never even made it into the house.”

“Good news is I’m pretty sure his surgery is wrapping up. Bad news is with the storm not everyone can make it in for their shifts.”

“Anything I can do to help?” you asked. Garth raised an eyebrow. “Come on. We both know I don’t need a babysitter or Benny wouldn’t have discharged me. I’m a little tired and have a headache and can’t lift anything but I can do something I’m sure. I mean I’m stuck here until this storm is over too. I know how much it sucks to be stuck in the hospital.”

“Let me talk to the floor nurse, see if we can find something.”

Two Hours Later

You grinned when Dean wandered into the ICU in a pair of clean scrubs. His green eyes were barely open but he was smiling when he found you coloring with a young girl who’d been in an accident with her mom.

“Dr. Winchester,” said the woman in bed quietly, Dean giving her hand a squeeze. 

“I’m surprised you remember me from the ER,” he said, eyes settling on the young girl. “You taking care of your mom for me?”

She hummed, going back to her coloring as you stood slowly. “I told Darcy about how good a doctor you are from my own personal experience.”

“Ah, well, you weren’t in quite as bad of shape,” said Dean, glancing at the monitors for a moment. “Dr. Mills told me your surgery went well. Hopefully we can get you moved out of ICU in a few hours and home in a few days. Mind if I borrow, Y/N?”

“Take her. And thank you again for keeping an eye on my daughter,” she said. 

“Anytime,” you said, Dean tucking you under his shoulders before escorting you out. He hummed, gently tapping the side of your head when you reached the elevators. “Listen. I know you wanted me to stay here and coloring isn’t that strenuous, I promise.”

“Ribs. Concussion. Hip-”

“Dean, I’m fine-”

“Thigh. Ass,” he smirked, gently rubbing your side. “That was a hard fucking fall and you need to rest.”

“I did! I promise,” you said, Dean chuckling.

“Always were a stubborn patient,” he said, the doors nearly closing when you spotted Gabe sneak inside. He gave you two a look, pretending to gag. “This is why you’re single.”

“By choice,” he said, holding up a finger. “And I’m getting the hell out of this building before I get pulled into another disaster. You two want a lift home on account of the head trauma and you looking like death warmed over?”

Dean flipped him off as you pushed his hand down. “Thank you Gabe, we appreciate it.”

“Anytime.”

Approximately nine hours after Dean was meant to get home, you and Dean trudged inside the house, leaving the snow in the driveway to be dealt with later. You were hungry and sore and less than a minute inside, you were under the covers in bed, Dean crawling in beside you.

“Wake me up if you feel nauseous or your head hurts more or-” You pressed a finger to his lips, shushing him into closing his eyes. “Bossy.”

“Sleep-deprived,” you said, pecking a kiss on his lips that he was too exhausted to return. “I promise you can dote on me when we wake up as much as you want. I won’t even complain that much.”

“You better not,” he mumbled. “Love you.”

“Love you too, Dean.”

_____________

[islandofthedollz]

IMAGINE DRUNK JIMMY FUCKING YOU WITH HIS EMPTY BEER BOTTLE ( ꩜ ᯅ ꩜;)

⁠❥TW: Alcohol, beer bottle fucking, drunk

⁠❥ILY thank you for the request I started school today, hopefully it won’t take up to much time I only have 2 classes

❤︎The bottle ❤︎

You been waiting for Jimmy to return home for two hours. You already made dinner set up the table you texted him, but he hasn’t replied to you yet.

So you decide to wait on the couch for him. You end up falling asleep, a couple hours pass, and then you hear the door open and the sound of heavy stumbling footsteps walking. You open your eyes your vision is a bit blurry. We realize it’s your boyfriend he reeks like booze.

“Jimmy are you OK? Where have you been? I’ve been worried sick.” You say as your voice is shaky. “Shut up woman” he slurs his words. You try to help him onto the couch his right arm clinging onto his beer bootle.

Jimmy looks at you and the dress you’re wearing hugging your curves in the all the right places accentuating your breast thighs. “I don’t tell you this enough but you’re so hot” he laughs. You give him a Akward smile “I’ll get you some water” as you start to stand up he grabs your hand tightly and pulls you onto his lap.

You feel his hands spreading your legs you try to close them but even in his drunken state he’s still stronger than you. “J-Jimmy we you shouldn’t be doing this not when your like this” you try to reason with him but he ignores you.

You feel him pull up your dress. His hands creasing your clothed pussy. He moves his figures up and down your slit. You bite your lip hoping it would reduce the sound of your moan. Jimmy hears you and perks up feeling your panties get wet by his actions.

Jimmy holds your legs open with one hand and takes a swig of beer. You look at him. He looks you and smiles. He lets go of your leg. Jimmy grabs your chin forcing your mouth open and forces you to drink the beer. The biter taste going down your throat. You feel Jimmy take the bottle away still having some liquid in it. you feel a bit lightheaded but not enough to be buzzed.

Jimmy once again opened up your legs. You looks down with anticipation on what he’s about to do next. You feel and see the beer bottle running up and down your slit. “Ya know I always wanted to fuck with weird objects but your always such a bitch about it always scared and saying no I see the beer is taking efffect your relaxed and don’t have a stick up ur ass”. He grimaced.

He was rubbing the mouth of that glass bottle over your clit, pressing back and forth, the cold, hard glass feeling entirely different from the warm tip of his finger. His eyes glued to yours.

Almost involuntarily you started to close your thighs at the foreign object , shaking my head no. Oh, my God. Oh my God, it felt ... incredible.

You were drawing my knees together when Jimmy’s hand pressed on your inner thigh. "What's wrong, honey? Don't you like it? Look, it's shaped just like a cock just like your used to ." He grinned. You were shaking your head but Jimmy slid that dark glass down your slit and back up. This wasn't right. It shouldn't feel so good. It shouldn't feel so good to be naughty like this, should it?

You reached down and started to push his hand away when he parted your lips and poured the rest of the beer into your hot cunt. His fingers pushing the liquid inside you.

You moaned and like lightening travels, your body reacted. "I'm going to bottle fuck this cunt, baby." Jimmy had that animalistic glare, look on his face. You writhed but shook my head. He rubbed your clit a little but not enough and looked up again, "Yes, baby. You want it." You moaned and my body tightened and shook with arousal, with need.

Jimmy watched your reactions how your body reacted "Look at that baby, your body wants it even if you think you don't."

The intensity on his face just about sent me over. He felt you relax more

Jimmy grinned, "That's a sweet little cunt. A cunt that's going to fuck this beer bottle for me."

Jimmy gripped that tapered bottle low and twisted it, "I'm going to fill that hot cunt all up." Torquing the bottle he slowly pushed it into your wet fuck hole. You quivered as the smooth glass entered.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck! Look at that." He admired. "Nasty cunt fucking that beer bottle."

You looked down and without warning you started coming, hard and fast my body closing tight over the glass.

"That's it baby. Come hard. Come all over this glass toy." He encouraged me, his voice low and aroused. "Fuck it honey, show me how you like your pussy filled." He slurred.

Your mind was spinning it felt surprisingly good. You never felt this ecstasy before you bucked and bucked, taking as much as you could. Rocking over the bottle that was too long and so wide it was stretching your hole. Jimmy liked that; he liked the girth stretching your pussy. "Fuck that is so hot and nasty baby."

Your breasts were bouncing and you were convulsing unendingly. My body was heaving.

Jimmy continued to swirl the bottle, over your vulva and clit. His hand brushing his cock as it was rock hard again. He lay beside me and he knocked out you smiled, catching your breath, inhaling deeply pulling much needed oxygen into your lungs as your body stilled. I could feel a pulse in your clit, it was remarkable, you had come so hard.

You smiled softly in wonder, made you should do this again.

[cokoweee]

COKO- DLKJFKADHKFDAKFHADFDSFDSKJFDKLFDHAK

COKO.

Youuuuu magnificent artist you-

This update- .... THIS FRIGGIN' UPDATE-

LET'S BEGIN. First off- THIS IS GORGEOUS. It amazes me how uniform and clean your art can be- while also being whimsical and naturally flowy. The shades of purples just add the perfect touch of depth and life- And then the contrast of the gray with the characters and the white of the snow and smoke?- AMAZING.

Next.

Despite Donnie's brain becoming his worst enemy right now, he's still pushing past it to make sure Kendra's okay and not accidentally harming herself. Her being both drunk and sickly, he's making sure to keep an eye on her like a good boyfriend would.

With this exchange we also hear that Kendra's fever had come back hours ago during the party- This poor girl can't get a health break if her life depended on it. :(

I love that even though Donnie has indeed grown in terms of emoting and feeling again, he still has those classic deadpanned lines. When I read his first line in this panel, it was deadpan. (I think his expression also hints at this haha).

Kendra continues on for a bit about how the alcohol helps her to forget. But with all the years that she has been drinking, it NEVER WORKS. "You always remember though.." But then, after saying such a fact, she immediately contradicts herself stating emphatically "..I know that for sure I for one WON'T." Perhaps it's Big Mama's drinks flowing through her system that makes her think she definitely won't remember what happened. "I'll forget yesterday.. today.."

And then Donnie asks the question every fan is DYING to know the answer to:

"Is that why you did it?"

When Kendra kissed Donnie- was she somewhat in control of her actions? Was there feeling and connection smothered deep underneath the waves of alcohol? Was the drink poisoned? Did it mess with Kendra specifically to make her kiss him?

DOES SHE TRULY LOVE HIM?

Donnie is physically shaking with anticipation, anger, mourning, all the feelings he desperately doesn't want to feel. he begins to interrogate Kendra on why she did it. GET SOME ANSWERS. Prove him he's wrong.

"Big Mama made you do it, right? That's why you want to forget it..."

And then Kendra drunkenly but simply replies, "Do you want me to remember it?"

And what's Donnie's response? Will he yell at her to "JUST FORGET IT-" and storm off? Will he go silent and try to weasel his way out of all these emotions flying high in the air and in his heart?

No. He does the unexpected. He tells her straight out- "I WANT YOU TO REMEMBER OUR FIRST KISS." He says it with such emphasis, such passion and gusto, that it completely takes Kendra by surprise... And then, just as Donnie admits his true feelings, he freezes and backtracks. "Ah- Wait-" It's terrifying to tell someone such heartfelt emotions you have for them. It's terrifying because you have no idea if you'll be accepted or rejected. "I mean- Scratch what I said!" (I can't give you an opening to hurt me- I can't be vulnerable with you- I can't I can't I can't)

After Donnie speaks, Kendra begins to move her hand closer to his. Not enough to touch- but extremely close. She is slowly but steadily showing him to not be afraid of her. Don't be afraid of feeling. I won't hurt you.

(ALSO HER NAILS?? LIKE BRO?? THEY LOOK SO GOOD WHAT THE SHELL-)

... And then her nose ruins it. XD (Seriously, honey, GO INSIDE IT'S COLDER THAN A SNOWMAN'S CORE OUT THERE.)

Now we see Donnie immediately and instinctively protecting his mate friend- handing her his own shirt to keep her warm in the chilly air. Forget their earlier conversation- she's still sick, and her health is priority over some dumb dumb feelings.

Walking back into the hotel room to hopefully find more medicine for his sick girlfriend, he grips down on his wildly wagging tail, once again trying to mask over the fact that he's never been happier in his life. We also can't see his expression very well throughout these panels- if not at all. I really like this. It's almost as if when you can't see him, he's forcefully disassociating, not allowing anyone, (including the reader) to see what's going through his mind and heart.

And when Donnie leaves, Kendra watches him. <3 And then not long after...

... She joins him inside.

DKLFJADKFHAHFKHDSKFH

COKO THIS UPDATE- THIS UPDATE-

You did what so many tv shows and movies and fics don't. HAVE THE TWO LOVE INTERESTS TALK ABOUT THEIR FEELINGS without any need for intimate touching, kissing, etc. They just stand in the cold and talk it out.

.. AND I LOVED IT. :)

You did an amazing job on this update, dude. Seriously. This was some really good dialogue and writing and art and I loved every second of it. :)

Good luck with the next chapter thingy! You got this!

Remember to drink water and see what the sun looks like!!

~ Melissa

OKAY IVE GOT TWO OF YALL WITH LONG ASKS SO I GOTTA SPACE EM OUT

So with that line “you always remember though” was meant to be read with the you emphasized but my jittery brain was blanking last night. Seeing it now that I’m awake I’m glad I left it like that cause she doesn’t know if she’ll forget or not.

Donnie without anything in his system, no voices to hear, makes him really start to slip up. Do things, say things without fully planning it through. His hearts being plastered on his sleeve rather than staying where it can’t be ripped away.

I left the update pretty bare/practically empty of any thoughts the two are having. If I showed them these panels would be stuffed to hell but yall are filling in the blanks nicely. You and Kiku have your analysis, lil bird pickings of updates and it always get me goofy happy agegrgquahahhe

Also I’m grabbing a bagel, the morning summons

[sequinsmile-x]

The Way to the Words

Emily struggles to tell Aaron she loves him. At least, she struggles to tell him in English.

AKA - 5 times Emily tells Aaron she loves him in another language, and 1 time she says it in English.

-x-

Hi besties,

This is an idea I've been playing around with for a while, but was spurred on to write it after I got an anon about Emily and all of the languages she speaks.

This is soft (because we all deserve softness right now) and hopefully funny in parts! These idiots love each other a whole lot.

Also, just a note that I don't speak any of the other languages in this. Where possible, I have run the line past someone I know who speaks it, or I have run it back and forth through several online translators to make sure it's as correct as I can make it, and read articles on word positioning/how it should be written.

(Second also: I know Arabic is meant to go from right to left, but Tumblr won't let me format it like that, but it is correct on Ao3)

As always, let me know what you think <3

-x-

Warnings: the tiniest, smallest, bit of spice possible. Blink and you miss it kind of stuff. (Rated T)

Words: 6.5k

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

One

Technically, she’s the one to say it first. It’s something she tells him years down the line when they talk about the early days of them, her smile soft and sleepy as their baby rests on her chest as she insists that she’d whispered those three little words weeks before he had. 

She just so happened to say them in a language he didn’t understand. 

The first time, she doesn’t plan it. 

They walk back to her apartment after their first date, their hands tangled together as they swing them back and forth ever so slightly. She was anxious. Shy in a way she hadn’t been in years, and she knows it’s everything to do with him and how he makes her feel. It’s something about his smile and the way he looked at her that would make her feel giddy. It would feel ridiculous if it was anyone else. If it wasn’t Aaron, the man she’d been in love with for longer than she could admit even to herself, she’d tell herself to get it together, would remind herself she wasn’t a lovesick teenager but a grown woman. 

With him, it didn’t seem to matter. She didn’t care that she’d spent hours picking something to wear, or that she’d curled her hair twice. She wanted to make the effort, to take her time for what she knew would be her first last date. A small part of her had worried at first that things would be awkward, but it had been like their dinners usually were, only with hand holding across the table and the occasional kiss exchanged between anecdotes. She wanted to know everything about him, everything big and small, and she wanted him to know everything about her too. Wanted him to help her break through the walls she didn’t know how to tear down herself, wanted to hand him the tools she’d never shared with anyone else. 

Her shoulder knocks against his as she digs her keys out of her bag, and he smiles at her, his hand slipping to her hip as she unlocks the door. She looks up at him, sees the uncertainty in his eyes, and leans up to kiss him, her lips catching the corner of his. 

“Do you want to come in?” She asks, smiling when his eyes go a little wide, his own anxiety about what to do and how to act obvious. He’d told her it had been a long time since he’d been out on a date, that he was unsure how to act and what to do, and she’d kissed him, barely pulling back to tell him that she was out of practice too and that she didn’t expect any more than just him. He had arrived to pick her up with flowers nonetheless, a bunch of sunflowers squished between them when she kissed him as he explained he’d picked flowers that wouldn’t poison Sergio. She places her hand over his on her hip and squeezes, “For a drink,” she smiles and winks at him, “And maybe some more kissing.” 

He laughs and nods, “Of course, I’ll come in Em.” 

She leads him inside and locks the door behind them, secretly hoping she won’t unlock it again tonight, that he’ll stay in whatever capacity he’s comfortable with and that she’ll wake up next to him in the morning. 

“Wine?” She asks, as she walks towards her kitchen, “Or I have a very nice scotch that Dave bought me along with a cast iron skillet as a moving in present.” 

Aaron had been her first visitor to her apartment upon her return from Paris, and Dave had been her second. It wasn’t the best place she’d ever lived, but also not the worst. It was good enough for what she needed for now, and the best she could do for a person whose credit score had reset when she’d ‘died,’ and who had only just gained access back to her trust fund. For a few months, whilst legalities were unravelled and everything that had been put in place in the wake of her death was reversed, she’d lived like most people did - on her salary. 

Aaron chuckles as he follows closely behind her, his hands in his pockets as he looks her up and down and makes no secret of it, “He got me the same thing when I moved out of the house and into my apartment,” he says, leaning his hip against the kitchen island, “He said no home is complete without one.” 

“He said the same to me,” She laughs, “I wonder if he just has a closet full of the things for when someone he knows moves.” She lifts up the bottle of scotch, “So scotch?” 

“Yes please.” 

She pours them both a generous measure and hands him one of the glasses, her fingers skipping across his as he takes it from her, “Let’s go sit down.” 

She sinks against him on the couch, giving him no chance to overthink their closeness or what she’d want. She pulls a nearby throw over their laps and rests her head on his shoulder, the mix of the smell of him and the scotch enough to relax her, a contented sigh escaping her before she could even try to contain it. He wraps his arm around her, his hand against the bare skin of her arm so he can trace patterns against her, chasing a shiver he causes with the callouses on his fingertips. 

“You okay?” He asks, and she hums as she nods, tilting her head upwards so she can kiss him, the hand not wrapped around her glass on his cheek so she can hold him in place. 

“I’m fine. More than fine,” she says, kissing him again, “Thank you for a lovely date.” 

He smiles and holds her closer, “You’re welcome,” he clears his throat, the anxiety he’d felt earlier making a speedy return, “We should do it again soon. If you want.” 

“Of course I want to,” she replies, as if it’s obvious - because to her it is - but her smile slips when she sees relief in his eyes and she frowns as she takes his glass of scotch from him and places in on the coffee table with hers, “Aaron, why wouldn’t I want to go on another date with you?” 

He shrugs as she turns to look at him properly, her knees pressing against his thigh as she uses the hand on his cheek to make him look at her. He sighs and his hand falls to her knee, his thumb catching the hem of her dress as he runs it back and forth. 

“I don’t know,” he breathes out, “I guess I’m waiting for you to realise you could do better than me.”

That’s what does it in the end, what makes the admission she’d been holding back all night escape without warning. Her concern that it’s too soon kicks in too late to say nothing, so she falls back on an old trick from when she was young and wanted to curse at her parents without them knowing. 

She speaks in another language. 

“Я люблю тебя.” 

He furrows his brows together and fights a smile. “Sorry, sweetheart,” he says, the use of the nickname making her breath catch in her throat, “I don’t speak…I want to say Russian?” 

She chokes on a laugh and nods, “Yeah, that…was Russian,” she presses her lips together, “Sorry, I said ‘nothing’s better than you.’”

If he knows she’s lying, he doesn’t say anything. He nods as he accepts her answer and he leans in to kiss her, his lips stamped against hers before he pulls back. 

“Nothing is better than you either.” 

He stays the night, and when she wakes up with his arms wrapped around her she wishes she’d been brave enough to say it in a way he understood.

___

Two

She grumbles as she sinks onto the couch, curling in on herself as a cramp rolls through her belly. She’s about to talk herself into getting up to take painkillers, her medicine cabinet never having felt further away, when there’s a knock on the door followed by the sound of the key in the lock. 

“Sweetheart?” 

She groans as she sits up, looking at her boyfriend over the back of her couch, “What are you doing here?” 

“It’s nice to see you too,” he quips as he steps into her apartment, holding up a bag from CVS, “I brought you some supplies. I can leave afterwards if you want.” 

She hums and watches as he locks the front door behind him, “Where’s Jack?” 

“By the time I left the office he’d already eaten with Jess, and when I told him you weren’t feeling very well he told me to come look after you.” 

She smiles as he sits next to her, “I really am fine,” she says, taking the bag as he hands it to her, her eyes going wide when she sees the bag full of her favourite candy, painkillers and a couple of boxes of tampons. She looks up at him, embarrassed in a way she doesn’t entirely understand, “How did you know? I only told you that my stomach hurt.” 

He smiles at her, his dimples carved out deep in his cheeks, “I lived with Haley most of my adult life. And I am a grown-up. I know what a period is, Em.” 

It makes her ache. Makes her feel stupid for even trying to hide this from him in the first place, her jaw tight and her temper wearing thin when she’d almost yelled at him when he asked if she was okay for the dozenth time that day. She’d left the office the moment she could and told him she’d call him later, forcing a smile as familiar cramps she’d felt for most of her life rolled through her. If she was honest with herself, she’d wanted to bask in his comfort. To lean against him as he laid his giant, warm, hand on her stomach like he was her own personal heating pad, but she didn’t how to ask. She should have known that she didn’t need to ask. He’d always been better at figuring out what she needed before she did anyway. 

She nods and presses her lips together, “You even got the right brand.” 

He shrugs, “I only bought the ones you have in your bathroom.” 

She laughs, “I once asked a boyfriend to buy me tampons and he looked at me like I’d asked him to murder someone for me.” 

“Well, it sounds like he didn’t deserve you.” 

She looks up at him, her lips pressed tightly together, and she reaches out for his hand, “Thanks honey, this is…really sweet.” 

“You don’t have to thank me,” he says and he leans in to kiss her cheek but she turns her head to capture his lips instead. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay,” he kisses her again, lingering a little longer this time, and she sighs into it, “I can go home if you’d rather be alone.” 

She’s shaking her head before she can even really think about it, “No,” she replies, “I want you to stay.” 

He kisses her before he pulls back, “I’ll make us some hot chocolate, and bring you some water so you can take your painkillers. And then we’ll watch whatever sci-fi nonsense you want to watch.” 

She scoffs in fake annoyance, “It’s not nonsense,” she grumbles, narrowring her eyes at him playfully, “And I’ll have you know I was thinking of watching Die Hard.” 

He furrows his brow as he turns to look at her, “That’s a Christmas movie.” 

She groans and flops back onto the couch, tearing a pack of the candy he’d brought her open, “Don’t tell me I’m dating a guy who thinks Die Hard is a Christmas movie.” 

He raises his eyebrow at her from her kitchen counter, the tin of hot chocolate mix in his hands, “It’s set at Christmas.” 

“That doesn’t make it a Christmas movie, honey. There’s no small town girl visiting home from the big city for the holidays,” she says, unable to fight her smile when he smiles widely at her, the warmth of it settling over her like a comforting blanket from across the room, “And there’s no Santa Claus, and Kate Winslet doesn’t swap houses with Cameron Diaz,” she pops some candy into her mouth, “It’s not a Christmas movie.” 

“You’ve given this some thought,” he replies, smiling fondly at her, his eyes sparkling like she’d hung the stars themselves, “I guess we can watch it. Even if it is set at Christmas.” 

She throws a piece of candy at him, her fake irritation dying when he picks it up from the counter and eats it, the way he waggles his eyebrows drawing a laugh out of her. 

She rests her head in his lap when he joins her on the couch, her back to him as they watch the movie and he switches between playing with her hair and placing his hand on her belly unprompted, once again anticipating her needs. It was strange feeling loved like this, because she knew that’s what this was even if they hadn’t admitted it to each other yet. She’d never been cared for and enjoyed it or felt as if the other person wasn’t doing it out of obligation. 

She finds herself stuck again between wanting to say it and not being able to push past her fear. Instead, she reaches for his hand and links their fingers together, dragging them to her lips so she can kiss his knuckles as she mumbles against them, whispering so he doesn’t hear the Arabic she presses against his skin.

"أحبك"

“What did you say, sweetheart?” 

She shakes her head and turns back to look at him, “Nothing. Just…thank you for looking after me.” 

He stops himself from repeating what he’d said earlier and he nods, pushing her hair from her face, “Anytime.” 

___

Three

She’s bored of feeling like an exhibit at the zoo. 

Ever since she and Aaron had told the team about their relationship they’d been watching them closely, their attempts at hiding their fascination with their relationship almost non-existent. At work, it was bad enough, but here, in Dave’s house, as they had dinner together, it annoyed her. Every time they touched each other, or showed each other the tiniest bit of affection, the team would smile and nudge each other. 

She eventually excuses herself from the living room to the kitchen to get another glass of wine, needing a moment without being stared at so she doesn’t snap at some of the people she loves most in the world. 

She sighs and takes a large gulp of wine, closing her eyes as she swallows it, desperately trying to calm herself down, to soothe her fraying nerves. 

“Are you okay sweetheart?” 

She turns and smiles when she hears Aaron’s voice and she blows out a breath, “I just needed a minute.” 

He nods and points over his shoulder back towards the living room, “Do you want me to go?”

She loves him for it. Loves how well he knows her and how well he loves her, and she shakes her head and offers him a hand, “Never.” 

He walks over and wraps his arms around her, “They mean well. They just have to get used to it.”

She hums and loops her arms around his neck, “I know. I just wish they’d get used to it faster,” she huffs, “I hate feeling like a zoo animal.” 

“I know,” he says, running his hand up and down her back, “Me too.” He says, and she leans in to kiss him, pulling him closer as she sighs into it. When she pulls back, he stamps another kiss against her lips, “That’s a nice wine.” 

She chuckles, running her fingers through the short hair at the base of his head, “Barolo del Comune di La Morra,” she says, nodding towards the bottle on the kitchen island, “It’s Italian. Very nice wine. Not that you’d expect anything less from Dave.” 

“Say that again,” he says, his smile wide and bright, his eyes sparkling with as close to mischief as they ever did, “The name of the wine.” 

She presses her lips together and leans in to kiss him again, punctuating each word with a kiss, “Barolo…del…Comune…di…La…Morra.”

He barely hides a moan as she pulls back, just about able to remember where they were as he squeezes her hips, “You’re so beautiful,” he says, “Say something else.” 

She giggles, something only he was able to draw out of her, “In Italian?” She asks, and he nods. It feels like an invitation to carry on doing what she’d unintentionally started, and she leans in to kiss him, only pulling back far enough to speak, “Penso che tu sia l'amore della mia vita.” 

He smiles, even though he doesn’t understand, “What does that mean?” 

“I love the wine,” she says, hating that she can’t tell him the truth, that she can’t push past the fear she isn’t entirely sure she understands, “And you’re handsome.” 

He leans in to kiss her again, but they are stopped by someone clearing their throat in the doorway. Emily feels her cheeks go warm when she looks up to see Dave standing there, the look on his face letting her know just how much he’d heard. 

“Well, this is adorable.” 

She feels Aaron’s grip on her tighten and she lets her arms slip down from around his neck and she squeezes his hand. 

“Why don’t you go back through, honey?” She suggests, squeezing his hand again, “I’ll be there in a minute.” He almost questions it, she can see the argument he has with himself over it, but he nods instead, leaning in to kiss her cheek before he steps away, his hands in his pockets and his smile tight as he walks past Dave. She waits until he is out of earshot and she crosses her arms over her chest, “How much of that did you hear?” 

“Enough to know you’re playing a dangerous game,” Dave replies as he walks closer to her, “So…you love him?” 

“I…” she trails off, the words caught in her chest and she groans, tightening her arms over her chest. 

“Relax, bella. Even Reid only has to look at you to know you two love each other,” he says, smirking when she glares at him, “So why didn’t you tell him the truth? Worried he doesn’t feel the same way? Because I think it would be less of a waste of time to wonder if the Pope is Catholic.” 

She sighs and shakes her head, “No, it’s not that. I know he feels the same way. It’s just…” She blows out a shaky breath and laughs at herself, “I’ve never felt like this before. I’ve never loved someone this much. It’s like my happiness depends on his, and it’s fucking terrifying.” 

He stares at her for a moment, his smirk disappearing as he nods in understanding, “I know it is,” he replies, patting her shoulder, “But you’ll get there. Take it from an old man who’s been around the block a few times. What you two have is rare,” he smiles at her, “I’m actually annoyed at myself for not seeing it sooner.” 

She smiles, “What, me and Aaron?” 

He nods, “I should have put money on you two years ago. You’ll get there, Emily. And he won’t mind if it takes a while. Because he loves you too.” 

She presses her lips together and nods, because she knows he’s right, “Thanks.” 

“No need to thank me,” he says, winking at her, “Just make sure Aaron makes me best man when you get married.” 

She rolls her eyes and fights off the desire to tell him to shut up, or deny that it was where this was all going, “I think that’s his choice, don’t you?” 

“Okay,” he says, shrugging at her, “Godfather of your firstborn then.” 

She scoffs, the sound turning into a laugh when it’s halfway out, and she can’t stop herself this time, “Oh shut up, Dave.” 

The thought of it makes her giddy, makes her stomach flip in a pleasant way, and she can’t shift her smile for the rest of the evening. 

___

Four 

Emily sighs contentedly as she flips the page of her book, snuggling further into the comfort of Aaron’s bed, the scent of him lingering on the sheets. 

The bedside table on her side of his bed was starting to look like hers. It’s where she kept the book she was reading and her favourite hand cream and other trinkets that had somehow ended up at his place. A necklace she’d taken off after work one day and left there. Her father’s watch. It was already starting to feel like home. But she had a feeling that had more to do with the little boy asleep down the hall and the man whose bed she was in, not the apartment itself. 

She was starting to spend more of her nights here than she wasn’t. She’d go home to feed Sergio, to scratch his head and sit with him for a while, and then she’d go to Aaron’s, let herself in with the key he’d given her weeks ago, and spend the night. He kept telling her to bring Sergio over with her, that he’d happily get a litter tray, food and whatever he needed, and it made her love him more. She was slightly resistant, not only because Sergio didn’t seem to like him that much, but because it felt like a huge step forward. An admittance that she couldn’t bring herself to say yet no matter how much she wanted to. 

The bedroom door opens and she looks up, her smile wide as she puts her book down, “Is Jack okay?” 

Aaron nods as he climbs into bed next to her, “He’s asleep,” he says, smiling as he pulls the covers over his lap and tugs her close, “He said he wants you to do bedtime next time.” 

She bites her lower lip, desperately trying to hold in a smile, her love for the two of them threatening to burst out of her, “Really?” 

“Really,” he says, kissing her forehead, “I’m not the only Hotchner in love with you.” She freezes, her shoulders tight as the admission washes over her, a choking sound of sorts escaping her. It seems to alert Aaron to what he’d said, and his eyes go wide. He swallows thickly and tucks some of her hair behind her ear, “I…mean it Em. I might not have meant to blurt it out that way,” he says, smiling when she does too, “But I mean it. I love you.” 

Her silence is loud, echoing around them before it weighs heavily on them, settling on their shoulders as she tries and fails to say anything, “I…” 

She feels like a failure. Like a coward, because what was so wrong with her that she couldn’t tell the man she was in love with that she loved him. She curses every bad relationship she’d ever had, she curses her parents, and everyone who ever made it hard for her to accept love and affection, because Aaron deserved someone who could give that to him without thought. 

He deserved so much more than she could give him right now, and it made her ache. 

“Em,” he says, his smile too kind, “I’m not expecting you to say anything back,” he adds, pulling her closer, “I didn’t even mean to say it myself yet,” he stamps his lips against hers, “It’s okay.” It doesn’t feel okay. It feels ridiculous and she surges forward, her hands on his cheeks as she holds him in place, deepening the kiss so she can show him how she feels even if she can’t say it yet. She shifts so she’s in his lap, rolling her hips against his as she wraps her arms around his neck. He tenses, his hands firm on her hip as he tries to pull back “Sweetheart-”

She can see the doubt in his eyes, not in her, but in what she was trying to do, “Aaron,” she kisses him again, knocking her nose against his as she rests their foreheads together, “Please.” 

He looks at her carefully, tries to see the tiniest piece of uncertainty in her eyes, and he nods when he doesn’t find it, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers before he kisses her again. They undress each other slowly, and he rolls them so she’s under him, trapped between the warmth of his body and the sheets beneath her. It’s soft. Tender in a way she hadn’t known existed before him, something that she thinks would make her feel exposed with anyone else, and she links her fingers through his afterwards, lifting their hand to her lips to kiss his knuckles as she smiles at him, hoping he knows what she can’t put into words he understands yet. 

He falls asleep before her. It’s rare. Usually, she fell asleep first and woke up last, comforted by his arms and the safety that seemed to come with them. She lays there in the dark next to him, his arm heavy and warm over her waist, his breath even as it skips across the back of her neck, and she berates herself for not being able to give him what he needed, what she so desperately wanted to give him. 

Eventually, she turns in his arms, looks at him in the dark, his features just about visible now her eyes had adjusted to the lack of light. He looked younger like this, boyish almost, and it makes her love him more. She reaches out and strokes his cheek, smiling when he twitches but doesn’t wake up, his head moving in the direction of her hand, chasing her and her presence even in sleep. 

“Aaron,” she whispers, waiting to see if he’s awake, if his breathing changes, and when it doesn't she sighs, “Te quiero. Siento no poder decirlo todavía. Pero te quiero.”

She leans in to kiss his cheek and lingers there for a moment before she lays back against his chest, snuggles into him as deeply as she can and she closes her eyes, hoping she’ll fall asleep. 

When she wakes up in the morning, he’s already awake and smiling at her, and it somehow makes her feel worse.

___

Five 

“I can’t do it.” 

Aaron tries to hide his smile, she’ll give him that. He tries to swallow it down but fails as he turns to look at her and raises his eyebrow at her. She glares at him from her side of the couch and kisses the top of Sergio’s head twice in quick succession, scratching under his chin as she does so. 

“I’ve seen you stare a serial killer in the eyes and not blink,” he clears his throat to hide a laugh, “But you can’t give your cat medication?” 

She huffs out a breath and holds Sergio closer as she pouts in a way she’d deny if Aaron brought it up. Sergio had an ear infection, and whilst he’d been strangely okay with her cleaning his ears, he was resistant to medication. He’d eaten around it when she’d tried to hide it in his food, had ignored treats she’d tried to stuff it inside. He was refusing to take it, and that meant she had to make him take it. 

“I don’t want him to hate me,” she says, tearing her gaze away from Sergio to look up at Aaron, “Or for him to be afraid of me.” 

She watches as Aaron nods, once again stifling a smile, and she wonders if he’s going to tell her she’s as being as ridiculous as she feels. Instead, he sighs and offers his hands out, “I’ll do it.” 

She tilts her head at him in confusion, “What?” 

“He already hates me,” Aaron says, smiling when she rolls her eyes. 

“He doesn’t hate you-”

“He does, sweetheart,” he replies, his smile getting wider, “But if I do it, it’s not like he can hate me anymore, and his love for you will remain intact.” 

She knows it’s irrational, but she almost wants to be mad at him for the way he makes her love him even more. He was willing to do this for her, willing to accept her, admittedly silly, concerns about her cat hating her, and do what she couldn’t bring herself to do. For a moment, she pictures him holding a baby that was half her and half him whilst they took them to get their shots so she didn’t have to, and then passing the baby back over as soon as the deed was done so she could be their source of comfort. She has to shake her head to get rid of the image, to remember the soft weight in her arms was Sergio and not a small baby, and she sighs and nods as she passes him over. Sergio meows in displeasure, wiggling as he proves Aaron’s point as he tries to get a hold of him. 

“Do you have the medication?” Aaron asks, raising his eyebrow at her as she actively ignores his poorly hidden smirk as Sergio pushes his paw against Aaron’s face. She nods and hands him one of the pills and he takes it from her. He’s gentle as he grasps Sergio’s head and tilts it backwards until his nose is pointing upwards and his jaw opens slightly. Aaron drops the pill into his mouth and then lowers his head back down, holding his mouth closed until he visibly swallows, “There we go,” Aaron says, smiling at her as he lets go of Sergio, who immediately walks over to Emily’s side of the couch and climbs in her lap, meowing all the way, “And look at that, he still loves you.” 

She smiles at him, ignoring the warmth in her cheeks, and she snuggles Sergio against her chest, making sure she’s giving him plenty of head scratches as she does so, “Tell me all about it, baby. What did the mean man do to you?” 

Aaron chuckles and leans in to kiss her temple, “If he didn’t hate me already, he will by the time his course of antibiotics is done with.” 

She hums and turns her head, capturing his lips with hers, “Thank you. I know it’s silly-”

“You’ve never been silly a day in your life,” he says, kissing her again, “Do you want a drink?” 

“Yes please, honey,” She nods and presses her lips together, the words getting the closest to escaping as they ever had, the way he looked after her in ways she never could have pictured almost tipping her over the edge, whatever had been holding her back getting weaker by the day, “There’s some red wine on the counter.”

“Coming right up,” he says, winking at her before he stands. It makes Sergio hiss at him, and Aaron throws her a look that could only say I told you so as he walks away. 

“You have to be nice to Aaron, you know,” she says, talking to Sergio as she scratches between his ears, “He’s not going anywhere,” she sighs, “Je l’aime aussi. Je ne peux juste pas le dire.” 

“Did you say something, sweetheart?” Aaron asks as he walks back into the room. She shakes her head when she looks up at him, smiling when she sees the two glasses and the bottle of wine in his hands, and the pack of her favourite candy dangling off his finger. 

She wanted to say it to him, but after everything, after not being able to say it back when he’d said it to her a couple of weeks ago, she wanted it to mean something. 

“No,” she replies as he sits next to her, “I was just talking to Sergio.” 

He nods in understanding and puts the wine and her candy down on the coffee table, “Speaking of Sergio,” he says, opening up his palm to reveal a treat in his hand, “I thought he deserved this for being so brave.” He offers his hand out to Sergio who looks at him suspiciously for a few moments before he happily eats the treat out of his hand and starts purring. Aaron laughs and takes the opportunity to scratch between Sergio’s ears, which the cat leans into, “Maybe he’ll love me after all.” 

“Yeah,” she replies, biting the inside of her cheek to contain her smile, “He’d be a fool not to.” 

___

+  One 

“Anyone want to go for a drink?” 

Emily drops her pen down on her desk and turns to face the others, “I’m up for it.” 

“Of course you are, princess,” Derek says, smirking when she glares at him, “Do you think you could convince Hotch?” 

She smiles, “I could convince him of anything.” 

Derek groans, “God, I don’t want to know that.” 

She laughs as she stands up and she winks at him, “You asked. You okay to gather everyone else?” 

He nods and she walks up to Aaron’s office. She takes a moment to watch him through the window. He has his head down, his focus on the paperwork in front of him, and he looks every part of the stern, focused man she’d first met. He looks up at her, his eyes meeting hers, and then he smiles at her, a flash of her Aaron peeking out from beneath Hotch in the very room she’d met him in. He gives her a small nod and she walks in, making sure she closes the door behind her.

“Everything okay, sweetheart?” 

She nods and walks over to his desk, keeping a respectable distance because she knows the others will be watching, “I’m okay. Derek is organising everyone to go out for drinks. I’ve been sent to rally you.” 

He chuckles, “They already know I can’t say no to you.” 

“Honey, we all know that,” she replies, “So is that a yes?” 

Aaron smiles, “I’d love to, but I have budgets to do, unfortunately, they’re important,” he says, his smile getting wider when she looks disappointed, “I could meet you later though.” 

“Yeah?” She asks, sinking her teeth into her lower lip, and he nods, “Okay, so we’ll meet you there?” 

“I’ll meet you there,” he smiles, her smile, and winks at her, “See you later.”

She smiles and turns to the door, reaching out for the handle as she replies, “See you later. Love you.” 

It takes her a moment to realise what she’s said, and she freezes, her breath caught in her chest as the words float in the air around them, as light as a feather in comparison to the heavy weight it had been on her shoulders for weeks now. She almost laughs, the absurdity at the easy, simple way she said it after she’d overthought it for so long not lost on her. The admission as simple as it was beautiful, as if they’d exchanged it as often as they had kissed, as if it wasn’t the first time she’d said it. Like it was something she’d said countless times before. She smiles to herself as she turns around because, in some ways, she has said it before. 

This was just the first time he’d understood her. 

She smiles nervously at him when their eyes meet, “Sorry,” she says, clearing her throat, “That…that wasn’t how I intended on saying that for the first time.”

He stares at her for a moment like she’s a skittish animal, like she might bolt if he made even the slightest of movements. He’d been careful to not tell her again since that first time a couple of weeks ago, like he was scared he’d push her away. He’d get part way through and then stop himself, smiling at her in a way that could only mean you know how I feel. It had hurt more than she thought it would, something that made her feel hypocritical because she hadn’t said it at all. 

She’s mad at herself for letting it slip like this because she’d wanted it to be special. But then he smiles at her in a room he’d once scowled at her in on that first day they’d met, and she doesn’t think it could have been any more perfect if she’d planned it. It was like their love story had permeated the walls. Like it was carved into them in a way someone would find in years to come when they were gone. When they’d moved on to somewhere new, their future still laid out in front of them as they stood by each other’s side. 

“No, don’t apologise. Never apologise for this,” he says, finally snapping into action, his pen hitting his desk with a thunk as he stands up. For a moment, she thinks he’s going to pull her into a hug or kiss, but then he remembers where they are, his eyes darting to the window of his office and the team all in the bullpen. He stops right in front of her and grabs her hand, their linked fingers out of view from everyone else, “I love you.” 

She presses her lips together and nods, every reason she had for being too afraid to tell him gone as if they’d never existed, “I love you too. I have for a long time. I hope you know it was never because I didn’t love you. I just…”

“I know,” he replies, squeezing her hand, “And I would have waited forever.” 

She chuckles, the sound wet as it catches in her chest, “Forever? That would have been awkward at our wedding one day.” 

He laughs too and runs his thumb back and forth over her pulse point, “We would have made it work.” 

She wants nothing more than to kiss him, but she knows she can’t, not here anyway, and she blows out a breath, “I really wish I could kiss you right now.” 

“Me too,” he says, looking at her like she was the only thing in existence, like the world could burn around them and he wouldn’t notice because he was looking at her, “Later.” 

“Later,” she repeats, “I don’t want to go for drinks with the team anymore. I just want to go home with you.”

“We’ll have plenty of time for us, sweetheart,” he says, squeezing her hand again, their palms practically fused together, as if they were merging into one, one soul that had been split into two for all eternity until now, “Let’s go spend some time with our friends. 

“Plenty of time?” She repeats in a question, as if she didn’t already know he was it, that they were it, and he was the answer to the question she’d never known to ask. 

“Forever,” he confirms, and she swallows thickly, her heart almost beating out of her chest as she nods in response. 

“Forever.” 

[blueishspace]

Hero, Villain God 55

(Prev) (Next) (First)

*Grian's pov*

You sigh in relief, that was close... too close, you almost had to think about some of the stuff you really don't want to aknowledge.... Hopefully Joel doesn't get funny ideas from that.

Sure, you might have gotten a slight bit attached to one mortal...or two...but it's just more fun this way! Yes! Nothing more to it. Nothing at all... And well you don't need to justify yourself to him anyway! Who is he to question you? ... Outside of like being the literal sky.

You are digging your metaphorical hole deeper at this point.

...

ANYWAY, It's time to go back to your vessel now, It's been a long enough time that it shouldn't be too weird for you to wake up... Well it might still be but at this point you are too bored to care.

You just give it a bit of a push and you open your eyes.

Ugh, It's way too bright in here and now that you are back inside the body the pain has somewhat returned, going to have to fix that at one point tll. You never understood why humans were made to be so fleshy and weak and sickly in the first place...

You push yourself up on the medical bef, the muscle mass in the arms is mostly intact with minimal athropy luckily, the legs are pretty much the same so not an horrible state by mortal standards at least... The door to the room opens, It's a nurse... She seems shocked to see you awake, she quickly dashes to your bedside to check on some monitors near you...then after a few minutes of questions that you really didn't care about she nods and leaves to make a call...

Soon after Cub burst trough the door, covered from head to toe in water.

"Grian? I was told you were up."

"That I am ..."

You should probably be asking questions right, they think you have been unconcious for the last week or so.

"... What happened? The uh nurse that found me when I woke up didn't explain much."

There! Perfect! Now he thinks you are clueless and your divinity is once more kept secret, good job you!

"You ...got shot protecting Hotguy from a sniper"

"And how long was I...?"

"Oh just... A bit more less then two weeks"

"Hmm."

...

The silence that follows is akward, you just want to get this over with so you can leave and the two of you barely know eachother... You really want to ask about what the associations current plans are for you but you can't just ask that, you already made Cub suspicious with the blood samples way before everything went down...

...Ok maybe you can phrase it in a non-suspicious way, It's a better option then laying on the bed for who knows how long.

"So... What now?"

"Uh?"

"Can I like ...leave now?" That should sound earnest enough hopefully.

"What?"

Cub is not the expressive type, you have gathered that from the little you have seen of him. This is not an exception, he just tilts his head before giggling a bit, you really can't tell if It's genuine or not.

"Grian, you just woke up from a coma you- you can't just...you can't just get up and leave."

"Oh..."

Well then, you messed it up, he's -

"Where would you even get that idea? Is that something you have done before? Wake up from a possibly life ending injury and just leave?"

There is a right answer is. . . You don't know what that is, you have no clue what he wants you to say. So you do a bit of gambling.

"Yes yes, many times, all the time"

His smile falters a bit, this somehow feels more like genuine confusion or thought...he just looks at you, did you say the wrong thing? You should have just done the mind reading trick... No, you gave yourself a challenge, if you just used all your powers this wouldn't be any fun anymore.

...

He doesn't even say anything else he just keeps looking, you tilt your head a bit and it seems to bring him back.

"Right... Well, I'll be speaking with the medical staff then."

"Sure."

He slowly gets up and after a few seconds goes to open the door and leave... He stops just as he reaches for the door.

"And Grian?"

"Yeah?"

"Scar is worried, should -"

"Tell him to come by."

"Alright"

And like that he's gone.

*End of Chapter 10*

[t1ts-4-donaldson]

more pirate art and mermaid reader please please please!!!

Pirate!Art Donaldson x Mermaid!Reader meeting for the first time

Pirate! Art always goes to the same spot every night to catch a glimpse of you for weeks since he last spotted you. His friends think he’s crazy claiming that what he’s searching for is cursed not meant to be discovered by those who walk on land.

Patrick insists that it’s the rum he drinks whenever they go out late at night it brings out all the fantasies he hasafter having one too many pints of rum while gambling coins away stating that Art's wasting his time, "you should be focusing on pussy above sea level” Patrick grunts almost toppling over the blonde boy the smell of alcohol and sour musk making art cringe "and you need a bath jesus" he shoves Patrick off of him.

Art is completely undeterred.

It’s the same process tonight slowly walk up the wooden steps from below deck making sure not to wake the sleeping men hanging from their hammocks and make shift cots. He silently walks across the deck and jump off the ship sprinting down towards the shore, he sits and waits on the dock gazing towards the open ocean until he hopefully sees you.

He almost gives up when It's past midnight but stops in his tracks when something bobs up and down on the horizon, small ripples on the surface of the murky water meeting sand.

His throat feels tight when he spots the mysterious creature that's been leaving gifts for him, a woman, you. Absolutely beautiful in every way glowing under the moonlight your scales glimmering different hues of blue and green under the surface.

you flinch the minute his feet give way on the wooden planks Art's heart stops not wanting you to escape. This was the first time he'd ever seen you and he refuses to fuck this up.

"wait." He whispers raising his hands in surrender "I'm not going to hurt you just please-" his voice cracks "don't leave.." he begs. He feels pathetic realizing how desperate he sounds the entire crew wouldn't let him live down how whipped he is but he doesn't give a damn, he's been craving you for so long.

it takes all of you not to swim away he can tell, to dive back into the watery depths but you'd been fantasizing for so long too. Watching him move about the ship hidden behind rocks or below the belly of the ship. It made you feel like a creep at first, stalking a man who might actually be terrified of you and your condition but your crush pushes down your worries.

you find the courage to mumble a soft "hi.." it makes Art's heart soar.

"What's your name?" He asks voice barely above a whisper thinking how this is too good to be true.

You quietly mumble your name swimming closer "what about you?" you ask.

"Art, I'm Art." He mutters absolutely mesmerized. He laughs at how ludicrous this is the mermaids actually exist.. he might be in love with a mermaid.

The action makes you wary "why.. are you making fun of me?" You furrow your brows drifting back not realizing it was from a place of admiration and awe

"no, no way never!" he stammers "just.. I never thought this would happen.. they all said I was crazy. Patricks going to flip out." He rambles.

You've heard that name "Patrick? the the crude one?" you chuckle.

Art's jaw drops, you've been watching me.. us?"

you nod meekly "I've been leaving all my treasures.. I hope it wasn't too forward." you wince the idea of turning him off.

"it's the nicest thing anyones ever done for me.." he smiles softly reassuring you, "except for when Patrick let me win that one sparing match for a prize but that's another conversation" he rants

"is he your lover? Patrick?" you question cocking your head curiously, trying to tamper down any jealousy you feel

"no just friends.. we've done stuff but um it's normal guys just being friends" Art blushes it's endearing "nice guy's being friends" you snicker, "I have a friend like that too.. Tashi she's perfect" you gush.

It throws Art off bubbling sense of ownership making him feel guilty, you're not an object to keep 'Tashi' his face sours

"but she's not you!" you shake your head consoling him "no one could ever be you.." He smirks a little bit of cockiness bubbling inside him you like him too the idea getting to his head.

panic sets in as the sky begins to lighten "I need to go, I'm sorry" you sputter the onslaught of sadness hitting you in waves, leaving him here crushing your heart

"how can I see you again I need to see you please." Art rushes forward into the water

your brain clambers for any ideas when something pops up, "here" you hand over an old conch shell covered in seaweed and barnacles he glances up confused.

"Speak into it and I will hear you." you clarify "I will come when I can"

you reach out and take hold of his fingers in your webbed hands a relieved sigh leaves Art's lips as he closes his eyes, actual heaven. He hears a splash and opens them just as quick staring at open waves as if you were never there.

[cillianmurphysdimples]

A female Y/N / Cillian fanfic (Part Fifteen)

Absolutely not based on anything real at all, all totally fictional, fanciful and all total bollocks.

Warnings for sexual references and language. Adult themes. Not suitable for under 18s.

We Got Issues

Part Fifteen: Y/N is getting by with minimal contact with Cillian whilst he continues to work away, but a rare chance to see him on a Zoom call brightens her mood. When she gets a call the same evening from his sister, she prepares herself for a Corkonian takeover at the end of the following week. His sister says something, and she finds herself taken aback by Cillian's reaction. [Family life/Fluff/Angst] (I've run out of grey haired GIFs that apply so take this one!)

@remembering-angels @dragonsneversharetheirtreasure @aesthetic0cherryblossom @meadowshelby @strangeions @meister95 @vivianleighwishesshewasme

Yoke - thing (keep getting asked about that one)

Gatting - heavy drinking/drinking

Leaba - Irish word for bed

Síle is pronounced like Shee-lah

.......

You went three days with just a few texts between you and Cillian once he'd landed back in England. He had night filming, interviews, and a desperate need for sleep to occupy him. But on the evening of the fourth day, sitting in your office, it surprises you to receive a Zoom invite a few moments after you log out of your accounts for work. You can barely contain the buzz of excitement as you connect and wait to see his face. His face fills your screen and it's so good to see him. His beanie is pulled over his hair, and he's got a coat over his clothes that tells you he's either coming in or going out.

“Hello,” you beam. “It's really good to see your face.”

He smiles brightly back at you, “Ah fuck - it's good to see you, too.”

“Are you coming in or going out?” You ask, and you chuckle when he looks down at himself then back up at you.

“Heading out,” he says. “Dinner with Packy, Sophie and Matt.” He elaborates. “But I wanted to see you a wee bit before I go.”

“You had a busy day?” You ask. He'd text you around five am, having finished a night of filming again, and let you know he was back to filming in the daytime tomorrow. You didn't know, though, I'd he'd fallen into bed after that or if he had a string of things to occupy him and planned on sleeping tonight instead.

He shakes his head, “Not overly. I was asleep til gone eleven,” he grins, “Then I sat on my arse for a while but it was in front of this yoke for interviews so I suppose I was working.” He chuckles. “I had the glasses on there for a bit, my eyes are wrecked from looking at this all afternoon. I don't know how you cope with it for work.” He shakes his head. “Can't wait to crawl back into me leaba later.”

“You'd live in your bed if we let you.” You laugh lightly, and he grins back at you. “Still coming back home for a few days after next week?” You ask him hopefully.

“Of course,” he nods earnestly. “Missing you farting in the bed,” raises his eyebrows and the giggle he erupts into as he slags you leaves you unable to defend yourself even in false annoyance.

“You're a prick,” you smirk, shaking your head. “But I miss you. Not having you moaning at me to turn the brain-rot TV off is actually getting boring.” He laughs lightly, and you watch his tongue draw back and begin flicking against his bottom teeth. “Did you talk to the boys?”

He nods his head, “Yeah, just off the phone there actually.” He says with a bright expression. “They're grand by all accounts.” His head whips around to the door behind him suddenly and you can hear the faint sound of it knocking. He gets up from the seat he's in. You watch the screen as he walks towards the door of his hotel room and drags it open enough to see out. “Howeya…no, you're fine, come in. Just talking to Y/N, there.” His voice is quieter with the distance from the laptop but you can hear him well enough. You watch him step aside from the door and pull it further open, and there's a little anxiety in the pit of your stomach in anticipation of whomever is on the other side of it. You relax almost instantly when it's Packy who walks into view.

With a cheeky grin, he approaches the laptop and all but shoves his face into the camera. “Well, Y/N, what's the craic?” He laughs, and you can hear Cillian's light giggle behind him.

“Hiya,” you smile brightly back. “You lot out on the piss tonight then?”

Packy purses his lips and shakes his head comically, “God no, no getting on it tonight.” He insists as he steps back from the laptop. You can see Cillian loitering with a little awkwardness, like he's a little on edge now that somebody is in his space, but beyond his hand being close to his mouth, he gives no other indication of unease. “Well, I suppose we could?” He looks to Cillian and you watch Cillian's brows rise up, “Well Sophie's fella is driving, there's no use everyone being a pioneer for the night.” He laughs and Cillian shakes his head with a bright smile.

“You'll have to take his shoes off for him if that's the case, he's not so good with them after a few.” You speak up, and while Cillian makes a face and laughs lightly Packy doesn't seem to have heard you at all. “And take him to the toilet before you leave a bar, yeah? I'd rather not be WhatsApp’d another string of images of him peeing in the street.”

Packy laughs - evidentially he'd heard you that time and of the event in question - and points at Cillian who shakes his head and rolls his eyes. “Don't worry, Y/N, if he gets it out in the street we'll give him a slap.”

Cillian frowns and bends at the waist, and stares straight into the camera. “You can fuck off,” he says with raised eyebrows, but all you can do is laugh. “No gatting tonight!” He promised, “Here, we’re away. I'll talk to you tomorrow.” He says with a genuine and bright smile. “Go on and watch your shite on TV.”

You laugh and wave into the camera. “Have a good night. Love you.” You say with a soft smile.

“Love you too.” He says with a serious expression. He gives a thumbs up and then the call ends.

You hadn't expected a call, so you try to keep the nice surprise of it as a pleasant thing and not dwell on the fact that he was now gone again. You decide to do as he suggested - bullshit TV. And maybe a takeaway.

You make your way down the two flights of stairs and into the kitchen. Immediately, you feel how cold it is and adjust the thermostat on the wall beside the sofa. You need to remember to change it back, or Cillian will be moaning about the cost to heat the place, and that it's a sauna in the bedroom. Back in the kitchen, you leave your phone on the island and begin searching through the kitchen drawers for a takeaway menu. You're certain there are Chinese and Indian takeaway menus knocking about, but by your third unsuccessful drawer, you're beginning to assume that Cillian has thrown them out on one of his mad moments of domestic service. About to surrender, you check in the fourth drawer, strewn with poorly organised cooking utensils, and ‘a-ha!’ to yourself mentally as you find the menus pinned beneath the ladle and wooden spoon. You shut the door with your bum as you turn around, hands occupied with scouring through the menus. Definitely Chinese over Indian, and definitely egg fried rice over Cillian's preferred mushroom rice. The decision of what to stuff yourself with along with the rice, though, is a harder one. Chicken balls and BBQ sauce, or a spice bag, or Cantonese sweet and sour chicken? You could get it all, and take a small amount from everything, and have the leftovers tomorrow, of course, but you weren't sure you were willing to spend fifty euro on a Chinese takeaway for just yourself.

You lean against the island as you look over the menu, and glance across when your phone begins buzzing and singing out ‘San Diego Song’ as it rings. You abandon your hunger for a moment and lean across awkwardly. You frown as “Síle” flashes on the screen. Answering the call, and pushing it onto speakerphone, you stand over the handset curiously. “Hi, Síle,” you say softly. “Everything okay?” You're a little taken aback that she's calling you at all, and even more so as his family knows he's in England right now. Why not just call her brother?

“Hiya, Y/N,” Síle says, bright and cheerful. “Sorry bothering you in the evening, but I know Cill is away. I wanted to ask, would it be okay if Griff and I stayed up with you towards the end of next week? We've an event in Dublin, and it'd be nice to see you. And I know Cill should be back home there at the end of the week, I think anyway, I'm sure he said….”

You remind yourself what day you're on now. “Friday,” you say. “He’ll be back on the Friday. In the afternoon, I think.”

“I'll ring him, and I'll talk it over, but you're home there now, so.” You hear her laugh.

“I mean, you're so welcome, you know that. And the boys will be up on the Sunday, too. Bet they'd be happy seeing you both. As long as you can stick your brother being a pain in the arse, and the sofabed up in the office. Though if the boys aren't staying then I'm sure you can use one of their rooms.” You say with a smile.

“Ah, you know us by now, Y/N, wherever we hang out hats.” She laughs again. “You're a star, Y/N, thanks a million.” she says with a quiet laugh. “And you're alright yourself, yeah?”

“Yeah, I'm okay. Working, and about to get a Chinese with as much chicken as I can stomach in Cillian's absence.” You laugh, and you hear her laugh too. “And you two?”

“Ah, yeah, sure we're grand. Same as yourself, working away and all.” She says, still bright and cheerful.

“That's good,” you smile.

“So if we say Friday, yeah? You're sure that's okay, now?” She checks.

You answer immediately in the affirmative. “Yeah, absolutely. Friday is fine. As I said, he's home Friday. And you'll stay for the weekend?”

“If youse don't mind - we've the thing in Dublin on Saturday daytime but it'd be good to be visiting for a few days, and to see Aran and Malachy.” Síle says cheerfully.

“It’ll be great to see you. But you might change your mind on Friday when Cillian gets home. He's not been getting a lot of sleep, and you'll find him going through you for a shortcut.” you laugh a little.

“Ah, sure hasn't he always been the same, girl!?” She laughs again. “Come here, Y/N, I'll let you get on with your Chinese takeaway. I'll talk to you both before, anyway, but otherwise I'll see you soon.”

“See you soon, Síle.” You say, and hit the cancel button on the phone. You do wonder, now, if Cillian should have been involved in the decision but you're fairly sure he wouldn't tell his own sister to get a hotel! Still, you open your texts and send a message across to Cillian, letting him know Síle’s request and that you have agreed to it.

“Dinner good? Síle rang me - she and Griff want to stay here next Friday & over the weekend for something they have in Dublin. I said no problem. I know you're back on Friday too but we can have a quiet evening anyway. Maybe call her? Love you x.”

You return to your menu, having mentally made made your choices whilst on the phone, and then scour through the app on your phone to find the Chinese that actually corresponds to the menu. Finding the ChowTown restaurant on Church Road, you put through your order and grimace at the delivery charge before finalising. Just as you go to set your phone down, Cillian's text reply comes through. You slide down the notification bar and click to open it.

“She texted me that she'd tried to ring. Didn't get any call. No bother anyway. We can get dinner or something. Can throw them in Aran's room, not like he's using it. The restaurant is loud, I want to go to bed ha ha. Love you.”

You smirk as you swipe away the message, and push your phone into the pocket of your hoodie. You slink over to the sofa and drop down, immediately flicking the TV onto Amazon Prime and began to search for a film you know Cillian would turn his nose up to, but that you really wanted to see. The only benefit you found to the little bastard being gone was that you could indulge yourself in things he didn't like - or didn't approve of - but even that didn't make his absence worth it.

You booked the Friday off as annual leave and spent the day ensuring you had the house in order - not that either of you were particularly untidy - and that all three of the available beds had clean sheets in case there was a case of musical beds once Síle and Griff arrived. You finished a quick grocery shop - wine, snacks, fresh fruit and veg, and bottled water - and finished your stint as Cinderella by sweeping and mopping the floor that covered the whole of the open plan space downstairs. Satisfied, as you stand in your gleaming kitchen, you light the wood wick candle that had been gifted to you at some point over the last twelve months and left it in the centre of the island. You love the crackle of the wooden wick, and it doesn't take long for its vanilla and coffee bean scent to start filtering around the space. It's three o'clock in the afternoon, and you're finally satisfied that you now look like you live in an untouched show home and that it smells so clinically clean that nobody will ever guess that you're human and eat or drink anything at all.

You fill the kettle with water and set it on to boil. Despite the offer on more than one occasion to collect him at the airport, Cillian had declined as he wanted to do something before coming home so all you were doing now was waiting - which you hate. You place the coffee press beside the kettle and spoon in the ground coffee, then stand awkwardly as you glance around you. Why did waiting for something always make you feel like you could do anything else? But you were excited to see him, and you were both excited and nervous to see his sister and husband, too. You were looking forward to one of your favourite phenomenons, too - Cillian's accent getting stronger in the presence of someone else from Cork!

As the kettle comes to a boil and silences, you frown. You're sure you heard the crackling of the gravel outside, but it could just be the candle crackling. Still, your stomach flutters and you walk towards the front door to peer out of the glass in the room if the door and check. Sure enough, you can see a car and a lone figure, though the mottled glass that doesn't allow a clear view out, but you'd know that figure anywhere. It does help that he's lugging a wheeled bag awkwardly along the gravel as the car reverses away. You unlock the front door and pull it open, smiling brightly as Cillian looks up at you. The beanie is ever present, his glasses are perched on his nose, and the look of exhaustion mixed with a smile across his face feels like home to behold.

“You're back,” you say, smiling brightly.

His smile widens a little as he reaches the door, “I'm back.” He says, letting go of the bag on the doorstep. He wraps his arms around you immediately and you snake your arms around his back. His kiss is soft and loving, and he tastes like coffee and smells like himself. You move to rest your head on his chest, still standing at the door. It's been a long couple of weeks and you've missed the presence of his body in the house. He laughs a little and squeezes you before letting go. “C'mon, let's get in.” He says, and begins trying to pull your arms from him. You let go, smirking, and close the door on the outside once he's in the door. “God, have you disinfected the whole house?” He asks, looking around him, as he releases his bag once again beside the coat hooks.

“I have,” you nod with a smile. “How was the flight?”

He juts his chin up, “Ah, same as always.” He sniffs. “Will we whack on the kettle? I need tea.” He smiles.

“It's just boiled actually. Which tea do you want?” You ask as you turn your back on him, as he takes off his shoes and coat, and make your way to the kitchen.

“Oh, whatever you get,” he says. A moment later, he has his arms around you from behind, his chin on your shoulder, as you pour water from the kettle into a mug with a herbal tea bag inside. “God…” he grumbles against your cheek, “Missed you.”

You smile, “I've missed you too. It's been a long couple of weeks.”

“Síle give a time for today?” He asks, and unwraps his arms from you as you push his mug along the counter for him to pick up. Taking the mug, he yawns tightly and noisily.

You shake your head, and turn to face him. “No, just that she'd be here today.” He nods slowly and yawns a second time. “Did you not sleep last night?” You ask, smirking.

He shakes his head, “I did, but…” he shrugs his shoulders as he yawns a third time. “Fuck sake.” He stretches his eyes wide as his jaw snaps shut. “You didn't hear from the boys this week, did you?” He asks and then sips at his tea.

You shake your head, “No, I mean I did text on Thursday about Sunday and Aran said he'd be coming, I didn't get anything from Malachy. But otherwise, no.” you say. “Why?”

Cillian frowns, “Ah, I was on the phone to Aran on Tuesday, I think, and he was in a bit of a mood. Couldn't get out of him why, but he told me he didn't want to come over on the weekend, that it was pissing him off.” He shakes his head.

“Well, like I said, Thursday’s text said he'd be here. You said he was in a mood, maybe he was just being a shit with his words.” You reason.

Cillian nods, “Yeah, I get that. But, I don't get why, like.” He shrugs.

“School, a fight with his mum, pissed off with his brother, hormones…” you list, smiling at him. “He's a teenage boy, don't take it personally.” he rolls his eyes at you as he sips at his tea again. “I'll throw your bag upstairs. Do you want to get the washing out first? Save bringing it up to bring it down again.”

“Ah leave it, I'll do it there in a minute.” He says, shaking his head. He sets his mug down onto the counter beside him and holds his arms open. “Come here,” he raises his eyebrows. “Didn't get enough there before.” He grins at his own cheesy line. But you oblige, and fold yourself against his chest as his wraps his arms around you tightly. His chin rests on the top of your head, and he breathes deep and contented breaths that soothe you as much as you assume they do him. You're not sure how long you stand there, comfortable and close, but you're disappointed when there's a heavy knock on the front door that signals the end of the intimacy.

You sigh and push yourself up out of his embrace. “That'll be your sister.”

He sticks out his bottom lip, “Fuck,” he raises a single eyebrow. “I was hoping for a quickie before they got here.” You slap your hand against his arm, tutting but smiling, as you walk towards the front door. All you can think now is, Let the Corkonian takeover begin!

Cillian’s shift in brightness surprises you massively as you'd open the door and welcome in his sister and her husband. But that chirpiness only lasts for the time it takes to make dinner and settle around the dining table before he is yawning, and exercising his right to live with a perpetual bitch face. He chats, and isn't rude at all, but you can see as you all ate that he is heading speedily towards switch off mode after three weeks working flat out. He smiles as Griff talks about work, and as Síle explains what they're up to tomorrow in the city, and you reach across the table and tap your fingers gently across the back of his hand.

“Do you want another?” You ask, and nod towards his empty beer bottle before him. When he nods briefly, you take to the empty one as you stand up. “Another drink, guys?” You offer. They're all seemingly enjoying the thrown-together meal, and that's helped to alleviate some of your anxiety about things going well while they're here.

“Another glass of wine would be lovely,” Síle smiles brightly. And you're a little surprised when Griff declines and gestures towards his still half full beer.

You excuse yourself to the kitchen, with Síle’s glass and Cillian's empty bottle, and take a moment to breathe before you replace their drinks. They're lovely - all of his family are, in fact - but you consistently fear doing anything wrong in case their opinions of you turn sour and they begin to see you as you'd always feared they would after the affair. As you close the fridge door and set Cillian's beer onto the island, you hear footsteps around the wall from the dining room and look up. “You okay?” You ask, as Cillian approaches, carrying his knife and fork.

He nods with a soft smile just about pulling his lips, “Knocked them onto the floor,” he rolls his eyes. He walks around to the sink and throws them in and takes a clean set from the drainer beside it. He turns and leans back against the sink. “Y'alright?”

“Yeah,” you nod and smile. “You look done in.” You say, softening your expression sympathetically.

He nods his head, “Think it's because I've stopped, you know, after going for nearly a month.” He smirks. “We’ll roll into bed in a wee while,” he says and raised his eyebrows. “Throw me out the opener, there,” he says as he pushes away from the sink and picks up the beer bottle on the island. You hand it over, and as he pops off the cap, you pour Síle's glass of wine, and you return to the dining room with him just a step or two behind.

“When are you back in England, Cill?” Síle asks as he sits down across from her. She gives you a bright smile as you hand her the refilled wine glass.

“Tuesday,” he says with a nod, then takes a drink from the bottle. “This yoke tomorrow, is it like an exhibition?” He asks. She'd mentioned that they were attending an arts event not too far from the wax museum just off O’Connell Bridge, in a small building that gave nothing away.

“I suppose,” Síle shrugs. “Griff's friend has work that is in it.”

Cillian turns down the corners of his mouth and raises his eyebrows, “Cool,” he smiles.

“And the boys are well?” Griff asks, “We do be interacting there on Facebook with them but you wouldn't be quick getting a reply from them.” He laughs.

Cillian clicks his tongue, “Phones never out of their hands, but sure if they answer a text it's a miracle.” He smirks. “But they're grand. Aran’s got the leavers soon so he's busy, and between the girlfriend, college and that wee job in Eason’s, Malachy does be hard to pin down.”

“I'm looking forward to seeing them on Sunday, Y/N said they'll be here.” Síle says, and places her cutlery down to reach for her glass.

“Yeah, dinner here every week. If I'm home, I do get Aran from school. Malachy stayed here the night before I went back there.” Cillian smiles, “I said to Y/N, wrecks the head that they're growing up.” He smirks, but you can see the nostalgia there.

“I only spoke to Yvonne a few days ago, she was wishing Griff a happy birthday and just chatting on about the boys. Do you get talking to her much, or just the kids?” Síle spoke delicately, without malice or deliberate stirring, but you still find your stomach dropping.

Swallowing his mouthful of beer, Cillian sets the bottle back down and shrugs his shoulders. “The odd bit, but it's usually only if it concerns the boys. Last I spoke to her was before I went away just to give her the dates when I'd be home because I knew the lads wouldn't remember.”

“And it's awkward?” She presses on and you catch Cillian's quick glance in your direction.

“It's grand,” he says and waves his hand. “I didn't know you two were still in touch though.” He says, and you examine the frown on his brow - is he angry, confused, both?

“Don't be reading into that,” Síle says quickly, “It's only to ask about the kids. And you two were together years, Cillian. I know things were difficult before you split up but I can't be a bitch to her entirely; she's raising my nephews.” You find yourself understanding Síle’s stance somewhat. “Are you gone moody now?” She challenges her older brother with a comical expression.

He shakes his head, once again turning down the corners of his mouth. “I'm not, no.” He sighs. His mood has shifted slightly, you can tell, but you're not sure what he's thinking of feeling.

“Cill,” Síle sighs. “I'm not ringing up and inviting her down, that's not what's happening. Birthdays, celebrations, yeah? That's all. And I just ask after the boys.” She explains.

“You can ask me,” he looks at her with a serious expression across his face. “I'm not so fucking far removed from my own kids that I couldn't answer ya.”

“I didn't say you were…” Síle says, and you can see she's taken aback by his snapping. “Cillian, I…” she shrugs her shoulders. “I shouldn't have said anything. I mean the conversations are so infrequent, it's just a touching base sort of thing occasionally…” she ambles for any way to fan out the flames, but you get the sense that everything she says digs her in deeper.

“It's been three years since the divorce, four since we split, and you're only now telling me that the two of ye are taking?!” He sits back in his chair and you feel awkward and anxious. You glance across the table and you can see your feelings echoed in Griff's expression. “I'm their fucking father, you can ask me, for fucks sake, Síle!”

“Cillian…” you reach out your hand as he gets to his feet. You appreciate his upset fully, but you suspect the ferocity of his reaction is rooted in his fatigue. Nobody says a word as he storms away, beer bottle in hand. You exhale heavily and glance first at Griff, then at Síle. “I feel like I warned you,” you say, trying to make light of the atmosphere as it pressed heavily down on the three of you.

You're grateful that she at least gives a grim laugh in response. “Yeah,” she shakes her head. “You did.”

[blackcat101]

(No Yan Sim AU) Nyx

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Nyx does not have parents and lives with her brother who is a known fashion designer. She joined the cooking club so she could actually eat more than the diet he has her on.

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

Nyx finds Quartz interesting, she doesn’t know Quartz preferences on food or anything and that bothers her. She wants to gather information on Quartz just like she has with other students. Nyx will become more and more of an obstacle as she wants to gather information on Quartz even if she accidentally witnesses a murder.

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

Azul and Nyx are gossiping buddies, he finds her useful due to that journal she has that is filled with information on several students. Nyx managed to stay on good graces with a lot of students and supposedly takes their secrets to her grave but she’s secretly gossips most of it to Azul. On the rare occasions she will tell him information of some of the rivals in hopes he’ll at least take some interest in at least one.

The way these two met was actually Azul approaching her first, mainly scheming as her brother is a known fashion designer which means connections to more influential people, Nyx was aware of this but puts up with it due to the amount of information and blackmail she had managed to gather on Azul and wrote in that recipe journal.

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

Generally decent relationships with other characters, a few bad ones.

Jade: He knows that Nyx has information of several students in that recipe book (including him) and finds it humorous so he keeps it to himself for now, occasionally receives octopus carpaccio from her.

Floyd: He knows about Nyx having information of several students (including him) and doesn’t like that and whines about to sometimes but is kinda bribed to keep quiet due to her giving him takoyaki occasionally.

Vil: Periodically will chat with her due to who her brother is, he doesn’t seem to mind chatting to her but does treat her almost like another Epel, telling her that her posture is crooked and etc.

Rook: He finds her to be a funny character as he and her both study the students and keeps information on them, they have caught eachother gathering information on eachother but played it off as a joke. Is HIGHLY aware of the information she has and can’t tell if intends to use it for good or bad. Will ask to see her journal to see if there’s any information he’s missing about Leona, Jack, Ruggie, Idia, etc.

OCs (not rival ones): Some of the other students do scare her and she plays nice trying to learn about their hobbies and what type of food they prefer. Most of the time she prefers to avoid them. If she helps them she will expect a favor.

Rivals: When it comes to the rivals, Nyx will give them information about Azul, what he likes example: what his preferred taste in music, food and where they might be able to find him. She has surprisingly no crave to earn a favor from the rivals and is actually just helping them to help them as she finds their pursuit of Azul entertaining.

5. What grade/year is your OC?

Nyx is a 2nd year in this AU (^^)

6. What is your OCs goal for the the school year or in life?

To pass her classes and graduate on time and to hopefully one day actually own a small bistro cafe.

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

Nyx is definitely panicking as evidence can be easily pinned on her, the information of students in her recipe journal, her being in the cooking club that has easy access to knifes, and certain products in the cooking club room that is harmful to humans being prime examples. She would actually not know that Quartz had framed her of a murder.

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

Nyx will jot it down in her journal as it’s information. She will actually ask Quartz if it’s a prop for something’s like film club, if Quartz says it is then Nyx will trust her words at that moment due to the lack of knowledge she has on her and will look for Vil to ask him if Quartz is in that club. If the knife came from the cooking club room Nyx would be highly suspicious and concerned since as far as she knows Quartz isn’t in that club, this will lead Nyx to reporting it.

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

Nyx is at her classes on time, periodically a few seconds late as she was either handing out food or gathering some information. She spends her lunchtime in the room for cooking club as she makes her own lunches there, but on Wednesday and Thursday she’ll skip her lunches and hand out snacks to students (highest chances for her to be a witness on those two days)

10. How are your OC's grades?

Nyx grades are average, she aims to be on the merit roll but her grades do fall short of her expectations in classes she’s bad at.(math)

(No Yan Sim AU) Questions for OCs! + Quartz and other characters' lore

You don't have to do these if you don't want to! You can write and answer how ever you want (3rd person or as the OC)

These answers are just examples and they also give lore to other TWST characters in the AU

1. Does your OC have parents or family in the AU? If not, what is their current living situation?

Riddle currently lives with his mother. Because of her influence, he is the strictest in the student council (which consists of the dormleaders.)

2. What are their thoughts on Quartz?

[You can yap about it here since I already used Quartz as an example in the fourth question]

3. What is their thoughts and relationship with Azul? How did they meet Azul?

Jade is Azul's right hand man. He assists Azul with a lot of student council work and is mostly by his side with Floyd. They are friends from their middle school days and up to their highschool days (although the three of them won't admit it).

Jade found Azul's hardwork and scheming nature very exciting so he and his brother always stayed by Azul's side to see what fun events would happen.

4. What are their relationships with other characters/OCs?

[They are speaking about Quartz as example]

Floyd: "Who again?"

Floyd doesn't really acknowledge Quartz since she's so quick out of his sights. Genuinely believes there isn't a person named that but is suspicious.

Jade: "Oh, that shy girl? She's a little funny."

Definitely suspicious of Quartz but they don't interact much so he has no other information about her. He probably needs to be more skillful when studying her.

Riddle: "Quartz?.. Uh.. I-I don't recall who that is."

Quartz rarely interacts with Riddle.

Ace: "Ah? You mean that girl who's always so weird? I've seen her watch Azul. Pffftt! Do you think she likes him?"

He notices her sometimes because he thinks her appearance is a little flashy.

Idia: "I-Isn't she one of Azul's admirers?... She's the shy type right? She's a little strange though.. Sometimes she takes photos of me! W-Wait.. Maybe she's into me instead?! EEEKK!! H-HOW SCARY!!"

Completely misunderstands Quartz's actions but he's quick to know how weird her actions are. He stays away from her if Azul isn't present.

5. What grade/year is your OC?

Azul, Jade, and Floyd are all 2nd years (17).

Leona has been held back so he is still 20.

6. What is your OCs goal for the school year or in life?

Quartz wishes to kill Azul 🙏

7. Your OC is being framed for murder of another student by Quartz, how does your OC react to that? Does your OC know it's Quartz?

Floyd is jumping her.

8. Your OC notices Quartz carrying a weapon in her skirt pocket. That's strange since the female school uniforms don't have skirt pockets. Does your OC report this?

Riddle is absolutely reporting that! He's calling the cops and everything 🫡🫡🫡

9. Where is your OC usually with or at during school? Classes? With Azul? Skipping class? Where do they eat lunch?

Quartz is always in class but she'll come right before the bell rings since she was.. busy. She doesn't have a particular place she goes to all the time. She's never in one spot.

Quartz's lunch spot varies because she's always spying but her usual spot is in the courtyard.

Riddle is assigned being a hall monitor so he usually watches the halls when he is able to. He usually eats lunch with Trey and Cater.

Leona is always found napping under trees and skipping his classes. Ruggie manages to find him and give him his lunch from the cafeteria.

Rook is watching you.

10. How are your OC's grades?

Deuce tries, ok. (Awful)

[dgttwisted]

Together

n2 squad aka Leona x Vil x Jamil idea inspired by @mellosdrawings

this drabble is crossing cannons aka not cannon cannon aka (don't think to hard on it i wrote this because i had a cute thought an wanted to wright it)

-

according to the schedule is which dorm takes care of Lilith an Grim which week. as per usual when Vil gets Lilith for a week he spoils the crap out of her. This week will be no exception however he had something a little different planned.

-the night before the new week-

"as you know this week our dorm will be in charge of Lilith's care"

"i know?"

"lucky you"

"well i wanted to do something special we have discussed having kids in the future an i thought all of us could try helping Lilith this week together as a unit"

"sure I'm in as far as kids go Lilith is no where near as hyperactive as Cheka is"

"hate to rain on your parade but that might not work well"

"why not?"

Jamil dramatically points at himself

"oh yea she's scared stiff of you"

"how could i forget she cried her eyes out when you ran into her at night during your stay at the dorm for practice"

"didn't you save her though? during the whole Styx rescue?"

"she was asleep the whole time i doubt she knows what happened unless someone told her I'm pretty sure she has no idea that, that occurred"

"worry not I'll butter her up so when you make your appearance she won't be as scared"

"we'll figure it out sense Vil is dead set on this being a team effort an all" Leona said in a rather dry sarcastic tone which earned him a pillow to the face from Vil.

--the beginning of said week--

Vil had only knocked on the door once before hearing the shuffling as the door swung open Lilith jumped into Vil's arms "VIL!!!!!!"

"my little star!" Vil scoops her up an swings her around

Leona had the biggest smirk on his face he just knows Vil spoils the crap out of her to get that reaction our of her.

"hi Leona...are you sleeping over to?"

"heh yea something like that"

"your not allowed to steal our bed like you did last time jerk!" the shrill voice of grim caused them both to look down at the displeased fur ball. "i'll set you on fire if you do"

"i'd like to see you try-"

"so Lilith not that i need it but i will be getting a little extra help this week watching over you"

"i don't see Rook an Epel"

"that's because its not them this time its Leona an someone else who is very special to me they will be coming over later"

"ok you're here so i know i'll have fun" Vil giving her little kisses on the cheek for that one, Lilith is Vil's trial daughter would have loved to adopt her but was informed it was out of the question.

while Leona an Vil where playing with Lilith they had Jamil sneak into the kitchen the plan is to hopefully bribe Lilith with food to forget her trauma....

Lilith was holding a little tea party she tied ribbons in Leona's hair who just let it happen because Lilith seemed to be having a good time.

"a splendid party like always Lilith!" whenever Lilith is happy she glows so it makes it very easy to tell if she is lying about liking something but she gets rather embarrassed when you point that out.

Jamil had a trey of sweets he only took two steps into the room when Lilith lifted up her head saw him an screamed. 'about what i expected' Jamil thought to himself right before a plastic cup smacked him in the face curtsy of a scared Lilith.

Vil scooped her up trying to calm her down but she was wailing "NO NO GET AWAY!!! MONSTER!!!!"

monster probably hurt him the worse but considering how he treated her while be Over blotted he expected that reaction. he placed the trey on the floor an left the room.

it took Vil quite some time before Lilith calmed down an when she did Leona scooped her up an fed her some sweets gave Vil the look of 'i got this one you get him' an Vil left to check on Jamil

"i apologize i knew she was scared of you but i didn't think it was still that bad"

"you have nothing to be sorry about....this is my own fault"

"i know you didn't mean to-"

"take it out on her? yea well when i over blotted i did! i swatted the rest away an tormented a toddler...."

"but you also saved her even if she doesn't know that you did"

"she won't ever know an that's fine...I'm normally better with kids you know? if we did this whole practice thing with any other kid i could have shown off how capable i am an-" Vil kissed Jamil on his cheek

"i know how capable you are"

--

Leona swaying Lilith about trying to get her in a sleepy mood but she seems to shaken up to sleep. "hay squirt want to hear a bedtime story?" Lilith nodded

"k..." shit guess he actually has to now "long ago...actually it wasn't that long ago probably a week ago a big bad guy with blue flames for hair kidnapped a princess an challenged 5 hero's to stop his evil plan an save the princess they had to split up in order to have a chance of beating him leaving many trials an tests along the way on of those hero's was yours truly an the other was Jamil" hearing his name even during the story made Lilith tremble a little but leona swung her around a bit before nuzzling her face making her giggle "how can a monster be a hero you might be asking yourself? monsters can learn to grow from there mistakes i to had moments of being a monster but i grew out of it" for the most part.

"anyway all the hero's including the monster agreed that we had to save the princess as well as stop him he made it real tough you know every time we made a big attack he kept holding the princess just out of reach so we couldn't save her but i guess it takes a monster to know a monster because the monster saved the princess dove over an grabbed her from the clutches of the bad guy"

"Jamil really do that?"

"yup saw him do it with my own eyes"

"...." she was still fuming "listen kid you don't gotta forgive him for what he did don't blame you if you don't, but i promise you he regrets hurting you an he is trying i promise"

"can i get a different bed time story?"

"nope, you're stuck with the one i gave you"

"Vil would have told me another one"

"I'm not Vil"

Lilith stuck her tunge out him an Leona repeated the motion back at her. "good night little herbivore" he tucks Lilith in an she is sound asleep in minutes.

next morning Jamil making breakfast in the kitchen his plan was just to make food an leave before Lilith woke up. he stopped when he heard a ruffling "grim is that you? you have to wait until Lilith gets her share before you eat it all-" he turned an froze when he saw Lilith peeking from behind the wall just staring at him. he turned away from her so she wouldn't have to look at his face.

he heard tiny foot steps he could tell she was standing right behind him. "thank you" his head went up but he didn't turn around he wasn't expecting that.

"thank you for saving me....Leona told me you saved me from a monster..." she then kicks the back of his leg "i still don't like you though" an she ran away to go get dressed into not P jays

Jamil left standing in the kitchen alone with his thoughts till Vil an Leona came by. "you didn't have to do that"

"what tell her the truth? well i did hopefully she'll throw less stuff at you now-" Jamil rested his head on Leona's shoulder in a very subtle way of saying thank you which Jamil was to shy to say. Leona an Vil hugged him close let him know he wasn't alone an they would figure this all out together.

"hay can i eat food now or do i have to wait till your done hugging an shit" that earned Grim a smack from Vil "you better not say such vile things around Lilith"

"ow! i'd never after all im her role model"

"yikes maybe we should have Lilith move dorms so she has better role models"

"I'm all for that, i say Pomefiore she would have much better role models including Vil"

grim blew out flames "NO SHE'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE"

"aw you do care about her"

"duh! She's my henchmen!"

the three of them laughed as they helped get Lilith an Grim ready for class today.

[zvtara-was-never-canon]

https://www.tumblr.com/woodlaflababab/773344830294294528/omg-yes-far-more-positive-toward-kataang-than-op?source=share

What do you think? Maybe Sokka and Toph could have appeared, because yes, they are obviously like a family to Aang. However, it’s also important to recognize how much Katara means to him. She was the first person to believe in him, to support him, at a time when the entire world didn’t even know he existed.

I feel a bit torn: on the one hand, including Sokka and Toph would have highlighted the importance of the familial bonds Aang has built. But on the other hand, it makes sense for Katara to have that special place in this scene, given their closeness and how their relationship has evolved since the beginning of the story.

"Sokka and Toph are his family too" is such a bad argument to use as criticism of Katara being the one Aang sees in that vision because, by that logic, it shouldn't have been only Gyatso in his nightmare during The Storm, nor should his body have been the only one he saw when going back to the temple, since he was not the only one Aang loved/wish he had saved.

Gyatso is the only one he saw during that nightmare/the only body he saw because he was the one Aang loved the most and was closest to. Of all the bonds he had pre-iceberg, that was by far the strongest, and Gyatso was the one person trying to think of what was best for him as well instead of just what was best for the world. Of course he'd be singled out as THE loss that hurt Aang the most.

The same applies to Katara. She's literally the first thing Aang sees in a hundred years. She's the first friend he made post-iceberg, and is by far the one he's closest to. She was the first person who told him "The air-nomads might be gone, but you still have a family." She's the one that snaps him out of the Avatar State, sometimes with just a look, no words needed, because she understands him in a way no one else does. She gives him hope and keeps him grounded. Hurting her makes him hurt too and he's terrified of losing her (much like she's terrified of losing him).

She'll also be the person that will literally bring him back from the dead, and be the person he'll start a new family with.

Sokka and Toph are Aang's friends and family (and sifu in Toph's case). Katara is Aang's BEST friend, the family he's closest to, his waterbending master, his future wife (and the mother of his children), his reason to not give up the fight, the very reason he's not either dead or still frozen inside that iceberg.

Her meaning more to him is not the same as the others meaning nothing. Poiting out that, yes, the love of your life will hold a different piece of your heart than the people you love but are not in love with is not the same as saying "Therefore they're the ONLY thing that matters."

Not to mention: that scene is also a pattern in the writing about how Aang's role as the Avatar constantly denies him things he desperately wants. He longs to be a normal child, free of any responsibilities, but he's forced to be the world's savior (and has to a face a bigger challenge, having much less time to prepare). He wants to remain true to his pacifist world-view, but the war might force him to take a life and he has no choice but to be willing to make that sacrifice. He can't even stay in the same place too long without it making everyone around him a target.

And he wants to be the guy that is always there to support Katara, protect her if necessary, and hopefully be the one she's in love with.

But he ends up having to do things like learn from Pakku even though he REALLY wants to tell that old man to fuck off after he disrespects Katara, or having to temporarely let go of her so he can go into the Avatar State and save Ba Sing Se, and Katara herself eventually tells him that she doesn't know if they should be together because there's too much going on.

That scene isn't just about Aang learning to let go when necessary, it's about him trying to accept that he can't ever have the future he wants with Katara and she'll be just another friend/member of his family - only to basically get punished by the narrative by being immediately killed for it, then be brought back to life by Katara, who is then heartbroken when he tries to leave to go and fight Ozai the next episode.

It's the narrative straight up telling us (and Aang) that he can and SHOULD fight back against this expectation that he should sacrifice everything he holds dear to his heart because "his role as the Avatar demands it." And this future with Katara, where he's not just her closest friend, but also her husband and father of her kids, is what he wants the most, so it is THE unfair sacrifice the show is highlighting at that moment.

Katara means more to Aang, both because of their romance and regardless of it. It HAD to be just her on that moment, much like she had to say "I believe AANG can save the world" at the start of every episode, even though there's people helping him do it, including herself, because, in her eyes, he already did by validating her hopes. Plain and simple.

[firefly464]

Scott | Pearl | Martyn | Cleo | Scar (You are here!)

Scar fic is out!!!! oh im so so proud of this one I hope you guys like it!!

Word Count: 2,123

Fandom: 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Relationships: Charles | Grian & Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, Pearl | PearlescentMoon & Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar

Characters: Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar, Charles | Grian, Pearl | PearlescentMoon, The Universe (Minecraft)

Additional Tags: Character Study, POV Second Person, Memory Alteration, Only Winners Remember the 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series, 3rd Life | Last Life SMP Series-Typical Character Death, Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar-centric, Isolation, Disassociation, its the end of secret life he does NOT have a good time, Ryan | GoodTimesWithScar Needs a Hug, Scar and his relationship with The Universe

Series: Part 5 of Life after Life (again and again and again)

Summary:

You think The Universe might hate you. That’s the first conclusion you come to after you wake up. It’s also the only explanation you can really think of for why you’re in this situation.

Not only are you the first yellow, but now you’re the first red! And not only are you the first red, but all the color of your skin seems to have drained away.

And on top of all that, there’s sand in your blankets!!

~~~

Or, an exploration of Scar's relationship with The Universe and how it evolves over time

~~~

https://archiveofourown.org/chapters/159769846

Or read it under the cut :D

~~~

You think The Universe might hate you. That’s the first conclusion you come to after you wake up. It’s also the only explanation you can really think of for why you’re in this situation. 

Not only are you the first yellow, but now you’re the first red! And not only are you the first red, but all the color of your skin seems to have drained away. 

And on top of all that, there’s sand in your blankets!! 

Well. That one isn’t a new development, but it’s certainly not pleasant. 

The second conclusion that you reach is that you don’t really care. Yeah you might be red, but you’re still alive! So you’re not out of the running quite yet. 

Besides, you’re not alone in this.

Hopefully. 

You still don’t actually know if Grian is still with you now that you’re red. Last you had seen, he was watching you fall to your death, desperately reach out to try and catch you. 

You should probably go check on him actually. He’s probably worried. 

You think The Universe might hate you. That’s the first conclusion you come to after you wake up. It’s also the only explanation you can really think of for why you’re in this situation. 

Not only are you the first yellow, but now you’re the first red! And not only are you the first red, but all the color of your skin seems to have drained away. 

And on top of all that, there’s sand in your blankets!! 

Well. That one isn’t a new development, but it’s certainly not pleasant. 

The second conclusion that you reach is that you don’t really care. Yeah you might be red, but you’re still alive! So you’re not out of the running quite yet. 

Besides, you’re not alone in this.

Hopefully. 

You still don’t actually know if Grian is still with you now that you’re red. Last you had seen, he was watching you fall to your death, desperately reach out to try and catch you. 

You should probably go check on him actually. He’s probably worried. 

~~~ 

You manage to get to the end. You’re not sure how it happened. 

No, that’s a lie. You know exactly how it happened. 

It’s because Grian helped you. 

You would have died a long time ago without him. The Universe would have ripped you up and tossed you away. 

Perhaps that would have been kinder. Maybe not to you, but to him. 

He wouldn’t be here, cradling your dying form. 

You want to reach out, to tell him that it’ll be ok. Your arms won’t respond. 

Just another way that The Universe has screwed you over. 

~~~~~

Not to toot your own horn, but you think you might be The Universe’s favorite. 

When you had woken up, there had been six hearts on your arm. One heart per life. 

Meaning you started out with six lives. Six!

And ok sure maybe Grian had managed to trick you into giving him one, but that still left you with five! Which was still way more than most other people!!

And if that wasn’t good enough, you’ve managed to find yourself a promising new business venture! Since there’s only one enchanter that you know of, you have no doubt that people will be willing to pay a decent amount to be able to use the thing. 

It’s not your fault that it had been left completely unattended. It’s not your fault that no one else saw the incredible opportunity right in front of them! 

Well. No one except Joel. But that’s why he’s your new business partner. No reason in having competition when you can have help instead!

Magical mountain. That’s what you call it. 

~~~

And then Joel dies. And he dies again. 

And again. 

And again .

And suddenly he’s red and you’re being forced to tear down the bridge that leads to his little cave in the mountain and he’s screaming that everyone better watch out before he kills them all. 

You come out of the whole ordeal with no allies and no enchanter. 

Honestly? It could be worse. 

It strikes you just how easily you could have ended up in his place. Both started out with five lives. Both felt the weight of the curse upon your shoulders. 

The only real difference is that you got lucky. He didn’t. 

Well. No one ever said being The Universe’s favorite was easy. 

~~~

As it turns out, it doesn’t really matter how kind The Universe decides to be. No matter how good of a hand you’re dealt, people will still find a way to take advantage of you. 

It almost makes you want to laugh. 

~~~~~

You think that Grian might hate you. You don’t know why. 

And before anyone says anything, yes you know how stupid that sounds. This is Grian that you’re talking about! One of your best friends!

So why won’t he look at you?

On a certain level, you get it. You’re not exactly the best at surviving. You’re reckless and you don’t exactly think about your own well-being and you’re no stranger to dying repeatedly. You’re sure that it would be far easier for him if he was tied to literally anyone else. 

But that doesn’t mean you’re useless. And it certainly doesn’t mean that he gets to look at you like your fate is already sealed. 

Fine. That’s fine.

You suppose you’ll simply have to prove it to him. 

There’s only a moment of hesitation before you launch yourself off the tower. You can hear him yelling your name as you fall. 

Something tells you that if looked up, you would be able to see him reaching down, desperately trying to catch you. 

You don’t bother to check.

~~~~~

The Universe is kind to you in this world. 

But not only that, the people are kind as well. For some reason, you can’t help but feel that it’s not something that happens very often. 

When you die, it isn’t alone. 

Something tells you that might be rare too.

~~~~~

Well! That’s it! The Universe hates you! Or the Secret Keeper or god or whoever might be out there listening!

Point is, you’re not having a very good day. 

Someone thought that it would be funny to ruin whatever good relations you might have with these stupid tasks. 

You had tried your best to be welcoming and kind. You had filled your home with flowers and light, thinking that maybe, maybe it would be enough to keep people around.

But no . Of course it wasn’t. It never is.

Because some jerk thought it would be funny to watch you make everyone hate you.

Fine.

Fine!

The Universe wants a show? The world wants to be entertained?!  

You can do that. You can fill that role with ease . 

~~~ 

You make it to the end. You’re not sure how. 

It’s certainly not because of your allies. You didn’t have any of those until Pearl had grabbed your hand and told you that she was with you until the end. 

You still don’t know why she did that. She could have easily taken Gem’s side in the final fight. You’re not blind. You had seen the way that the two of them had looked at each other. 

You had seen the way Pearl had hesitated as Gem had begged her to reconsider. 

By all means, you shouldn't have made it out of there alive. She should have slit your throat and left you for dead. 

You don’t think you would have blamed her. 

But she didn’t! And now she’s dead regardless! And you’re the last one standing! 

Huh. You always thought that winning would feel… better? Maybe? 

Less bad, at the very least.  

You’re so tired. You’re so so tired. 

The dirt feels cold beneath your palms. You don’t know when you collapsed. 

Stand up. You have to stand up. You have to go hit the button. You’ll be free once you hit the button.

Get up. You have a game to win. 

~~~

You hit the button. Your wounds close up. You collect your prize. 

And. 

You. 

Remember .

~~~

Your memories of home had grown fuzzy while you were here. Slowly, they had slipped between your fingers like sand. 

The broad strokes were always there. Even at the end, you had known that you had come from a world filled with laughter and creativity. You had known that there were more people there than there were here. 

But the specifics were gone. You couldn’t remember the name of your cat, or what items you had sold, or what the world was even called .

You remember it all now.

You remember a sprawling theme park and a fracture in the world and pandas and a hut atop a mountain and the desert oh god you remember the desert.

The red and purple flowers on your poncho suddenly make so much more sense. 

You brace your arm against the stone pillar to keep yourself from falling. There’s so much. 

There’s so much.

But…

You’re still here. 

You’re no closer to getting home than you were before Pearl died. The only difference now is that you remember everything you’ve lost. 

You don’t know if this is better or worse. 

You hit the button again. There’s another rush of energy. Items pour up from the ground. 

You’re still here. 

You hit it again. 

Nothing. 

Again .

Nothing. 

You scream.

The statue doesn’t reply.

~~~

You don’t know how long you stay by the button. Maybe hours. Maybe days. 

You don’t know. 

Mobs don’t come near the Secret Keeper statue. Or maybe they do, and you’ve just stopped noticing.

Drip .

A drop of water hits your nose. You blink. 

Another hits your hand. 

Oh. It’s raining. 

You should go inside. 

~~~

You return to the secret keeper frequently during the first few days. Every minor injury brings you back. The idea of dying terrifies you. You don’t know the rules of this world now that the game is over. 

For all you know, death could be permanent and no one would ever know what had happened to you. 

It’s not a risk you’re willing to take. 

~~~

You find yourself holding your breath each time you hit succeed. 

As if doing that will make it easier for you to return home. 

It’s a stupid idea.

~~~

You build a cemetery for your friends. 

16 graves, all dug by hand. 16 coffins, each carved with painstaking detail. 

16 bodies, laid to rest in the dirt. 

You try to make it beautiful. You want your friends to rest in a place that would make them smile. 

You wonder what they would think. 

~~~

Time passes. Your visits to the secret keeper become less frequent. You injure yourself less often, so you tend to let them build up before you push the button again. 

There’s still no sign of returning home. 

The sunflowers are starting to wilt. You should probably harvest them soon. 

~~~

The weather begins to turn cold. You’ll have to move to someone else’s base. You haven’t been able to repair Trader Scars yet. 

Pearl's base will work just fine. 

~~~

It’s snowing. You hope you have enough firewood. 

~~~

If there’s one thing that’s worse than being hated by The Universe, it’s being forgotten. You wonder what you did to deserve this. 

~~~ 

Neither of the other two buttons work anymore. You don’t know what you expected.

~~~

You find an old sewing kit tucked away in one of Cleo’s chests. There’s some embroidery hoops and thread in it. 

You had found one of Pearl’s jackets the other day. A dark blue one, not the bright red that she wore near the end. 

Something tells you she won’t mind you using it.

~~~

You wonder how your friends are doing. You wonder if they miss you. 

~~~

Flowers begin to grow in the explosion craters left behind. Poppies. Because of course it's poppies. 

They bloom for weeks. It looks like the ground is bleeding. 

You try not to go outside too often during that time.

~~~

You hope Jellie is ok.

~~~

Pearl’s hoodie is covered in intricate swirls and stars. You wonder if she’ll ever get to see it. 

You hope so.

~~~

Why haven’t they tried to find you? It’s been months now. Surely by now they would have realized something is wrong and come looking. And even if they don’t remember the games, Xisuma should have been able to track your player data. 

But no. You’re still alone. 

~~~

The sunflowers need to be planted. Maybe you’ll try to plant some other flowers as well. That sounds nice. 

~~~

Your hair is getting long. You need to cut it. 

…

You drop the blade before it can get anywhere near your neck. 

That’s fine. Grian taught you how to braid, back in the desert. You can work with that. 

~~~

You wonder if they’ve forgotten you too.

~~~

You begin work on rebuilding Trader Scars. It’s not the same as it once was, but that’s ok. You don’t think you’d want it to be the same. 

~~~

You don’t know how long you’re alone. A year maybe? If the growing cycle of the sunflowers is anything to go off of. 

In the end, it’s a careless mistake that leads to your death. You haven’t hit the button for a bit now. You figured it was fine. Time here has made you more careful, more aware of your surroundings. 

Not too much more aware, it seems. You don’t even hear the creeper coming up behind you. 

You’re standing at the entrance of the cemetery when it happens, looking at the graves of your dead friends. You miss them. You miss them so much. 

One moment, you’re paying your respects to them. The next, an explosion. 

The world goes white. You’re overwhelmed by pain. 

You don’t even get the chance to scream.