#because I thought it was smooth and you could bounce off the floor as well as the walls but then Millports Exy court is used for soccer

[captain-danwilds]

What do we canonically know about the Raven drills?

Here’s what I remember:

I’m pretty sure Kevin said there were eight of them and you couldn’t play until you mastered all eight.

The drills use cones and require enough power to knock them over.

The cones are numbered and you need to be able to go in any order that’s called.

But like what makes the drills increasingly difficult, is it the number of cones you’re expected to hit off a single hit (and thus relying on rebounds having the right angles and enough power to keep going)? Does the position of the cones change?

[thesassypadawan]

Naughty Pet (Burnt Darth Vader x FemPetReader)

Summary: You thought you could getaway with it…playing with your lord’s ‘toy’ without his permission. However he can smell it on your fingers, sense your doings…even from within the confines of his tank.

Warnings: 18+ (minors dni), because all the lovely smut. Rough sex, some manhandling…and Vader’s big, scarred dick.

- “Touching yourself without my permission? Pathetic.”

- His words stung yet held so much truth. After being absent only a few hours, you had succumbed to your urges. Taking pleasure from yourself, playing with his ‘toy’. Just like the lowly thing you are. “My lord, I-”

- Capturing both your hands with his large one, he holds them close to his face. Inhaling deeply through his respirator. “Don’t lie, I can smell that sweet aroma on your fingers.”

- “I… I…” Your feet scrabble for purchase as you rose off the floor. Wriggling and whimpering softly, shoulders burning in agony. Hands still held tightly in his durasteele grip.

- “I know you had them deep inside yourself moments before I arrived,” he spoke coldly, yellow eyes filled with malice. “That you cried out my name, fervently trying to reach the places only I can.”

- “Please, I-” Phantom hand winds around your neck, clutching just enough to have you gasping for air.

- Easily lifting you higher; he sneers, taking in the sight of your disheveled appearance. “Look at you, how wet you are. Practically drooling, dripping down your thighs.”

- Despite your predicament, a shiver runs through you. Nipples pebbling, walls fluttering. Vision blurring and darkening, mind growing fussy.

- As you begin to slip into the sweet embrace of unconsciousness, you’re thrown onto the nearest flat surface. The impact snapping you out of your lustful haze, back to reality.

- Laying prone before him, you cough and wheeze. Greedily inhaling air while your world slowly comes into focus once more.

- Gripping your chin, he bends your head back. Mechno thumb swiping across your bottom lip; the cool, slimy texture causing a strangled moan to escape you. “M-My lord…”

- “Such a naughty pet.” Slipping his digit inside your mouth, you whimper. Tongue wrapping around it; suckling gently, enjoying the bitter medicinal taste. “Such an insolent little thing.”

- Squeezing one last time, he pulls away. You chase after desperately, until you’re shoved by an invisible power. Face pressed into the smooth surface; legs forcibly spread open. “That needs to be punished.”

- Feeling him looming above, you tremble. Thick droplets plop onto your bare skin. Some sticking, some trickling down your backside…mingling with your juices.

- Big hands clench your hips hard, wrenching them upwards. Scarred cock sliding between your thighs, brushing against your puffy clit. “Punished for using what is mine.”

- Surging forward, he slams into you. Knocking the air out of your lungs as he sets a brutal pace. Fingers digging in your sides; jerking you back. Making you meet, take harsh thrust after harsh thrust. Squeals of pleasure falling from your lips.

- “This is not meant for your enjoyment.” His hand lashes out, grasping the base of your neck firmly. Yanking, hauling your to your feet. Bullying more of his impressive length into your overly stretched cunt. “This is a lesson.”

- Back arches, body tenses while you bounce helplessly on his dick. While he pounds deeper, abuses your poor cervix thoroughly. “A lesson you should heed well.”

- Moans transform to high-pitched mewls, stars begin to fill your vison. Your climax is fast approaching, egged on by a tingling sensation at your clit. By the phantom digits that pinch, roll it. Pushing you painfully close to the edge. “Less you wish to be denied.”

- Tightening his grip on your neck, he forces you down once more. Pinning, keeping you still as he abruptly pulls out. Cock throbbing and spurting. Covering your back, shoulders…hair…in his hot seed.

- Leaving you whining and writhing. Tears of frustration falling for your eyes. Begging for him… “Please, my lord! Please, I-”

- Another hard squeeze. Ports prodding, a muffled growl in your ear. “Silence. Only good pets are allowed to cum. Now clean yourself. I shall return later…perhaps feeling more generous.”

- Releasing his hold, he made his departure…to his tank. A line of bacta trailing behind him on the floor.

Tag List: @espinathena-17, @myheartwillgoon2022, @wifeofasith, @loverforoldermen

[whyareyoulookingatmelikethat]

[13]: Twirling Thread

(Longer than my usual stories.)

This took a while, heh. Sorry for the wait in regards of stories, writer's block has arrived at Destination Me.

Not sure if I'll do the rest of the characters, feeling pretty down. Maybe someday.

(Reader is the costume designer for the toons. The names above each paragraph of writing are the names of certain skins in the game.)

Boxten: “Cloudy Dream”

“Almost…almost…there!”

You sat up to lean back and look over your work.The prettiest shade of lavender dripped from a small paintbrush you held, a can of white as well close by.

“Okay, we can let it dry, and then you can take the tarp off. Don’t want your clothes to get paint on them too.”

He reached up gingerly to pat his face down as he normally would, but you grabbed his hand quickly, forcing it away.

“Boxten…”

“Sorry, sorry! It’s a habit…”

Poppy: “Sapphire Dots”

“You’re sure this isn't a bit tacky?”

“I don’t care if it's tacky, what matters is I’m wearing it, and I’m proud!”

“Being proud doesn’t hide a poor sense of fashion.”

“Y/N!!!”

Tisha: “Lavender Maid”

“And to top it all off…”

You brought out the item from behind your back and gave it to her.

“A brand new feather duster!”

She gasped in delight, and gently put it down, then hugged you.

“Oh my goodness, thank you so much! The old one I had was getting so dirty, and I can't really wash stuff like that…”

“Hehe, I’m excited to see you use it! Have fun!”

Finn: “Prismatic Pal”

“MORE SHINE! MORE!!”

“FINN THIS IS GETTING TO BE TOO MUCH-”

“THERE’S NO SUCH THING AS TOO MUCH SHINE, I WANT TO LOOK LIKE THE SUN!!!!”

“FINN YOU’RE ALREADY TOO BRIGHT FOR ME TO LOOK AT!!”

Razzle And Dazzle: “Seafoam”

“You’re doing a lot for us, you know. (Are you sure?)”

“Yes I’m sure! Besides, if you guys are going to perform sometime, you’ll need different outfits, right?”

“She’s got a point!” “(Alright then…but at least make it something simple.)”

“Aw, okay then. How does a mix of greens sound?”

“It won't be something like yellow-green, will it? (Yuck…)”

“Nope, more like turquoise.”

“Oooh, I’m excited to see how it looks! (Sounds pretty…)”

Cosmo: “Caramel Drizzle”

“I thought that maybe because you and Sprout are friends, you guys could have matching outfits! Whaddya say?”

“Really? Oh, yes please! That’s very sweet of you to think of us…”

“It’s not much really. Here, can you turn around so I can adjust your apron?”

Cosmo patiently did as you said, waiting as you secured the warm orange bow around his back. He only turned around again under your gentle pulling motions so you could smooth out his apron.

“And…this might be a bit hot, but please bear with me. It’s caramel after all.”

You took the bottle from the stand next to you, making a quick drizzle motion so it lined perfectly on top of his head.

You poured a little sauce on your hand to dab on his cheeks, then wiped your hands off and leaned down to get the perfect angle to place the stars in, sticking your tongue out as you worked.

He didn’t tear up or hiss at how hot it is though, he seemed to let out a sigh and…melt?

…He actually looked pretty content.

“Warm…”

I guess that confirms it.

Flutter: “Vibrant Monarch”

“Be still, I’m almost done.”

Flutter nervously flapped her wings, slapping you in the face every so often and nearly knocking you out of your chair.

“Please Flutter, the paint will be blurry and won’t look good if you keep moving.”

“...!!!”

“I know you don’t like standing, but you need to right now! You can fly all you want when I’m done.”

“...!”

“Thank you.”

She lightly tapped the floor with her foot as if testing the waters, flinching every so often, before she set both feet on the ground and stood stiffly, anxiously waiting for you to finish.

Goob: “Special Spaghetti”

“I want to commit cannibalism on myself.”

“What-”

Goob: “Fun Partygoer”

“Ooooooh, I get a party hat too??”

“Yes you do Goob, let- let me- adjust it please-! Please stOp BOunCIng!“

“Sorry, I’m just so excited to see how I look!”

“I get it I get it, but pleas-!”

The party hat crumpled under a particularly high jump.

“...”

“...”

You sat down, head in your hands and started crying.

“WAIT NONONO Y/N I-!”

Glisten: “Warm Sweater”

(Based off my opinion! I love blue and white, but THE MAKEUP RAAAAA-)

“I still think the eyeshadow is a bit much.”

“Well, I don’t!”

“But you say you look good no matter what you wear, right…?”

“...Yes…”

“So you shouldn’t have a problem with no eyeshadow because it’ll look just as good!”

“But I- you-!”

“End of conversation.”

(Glisten somehow convinced you to give him back his makeup)

Gigi: “Rainy Day”

“But I don’t waaaaaannaaaaa!”

“Gigi, it’s still an oversized sweater. You’re basically just changing the color of it and adding some drawstrings, okay?”

“Noooooooooo…but…b-but…”

“Yeah I know what a butt is, you have one yourself. Now give me that―”

You yanked the sweater out of her hands, cutting yourself off as you stumbled back, “―Thank you!”

Quickly checking for rips and finding nothing, you let out a sigh of relief, then immediately raised your hand in the air to avoid her grabbing ones.

“Nooooooo, gimme it back!”

You sighed again, walking over to the dresser―well, as best you could with a whiny Gigi trying to trip you― and pulled out a yellow sweater with a hood.

Placing her old clothes on a high shelf so she couldn’t reach it, you turned and picked her up, setting her down to sit on the edge of the dresser and pulled the yellow sweater over her head.

Her crying instantly stopped and she snuggled down into it, content. You let out another(she’s a handful to deal with) sigh and sat down next to her, petting her head.

Sprout: “Salted Caramel”

“And you’re sure that you’ll be fine?”

“Yes, Y/n! Now just do it!”

You hesitantly poured the bucket of caramel on him, covering half of his face bit by bit while also making sure not to get the petals wet.

You let out a sigh of relief as the last drop dripped from the container, making a quiet plip sound as it joined the rest of the warm sauce.

The rest of it settled on the tarp below, collecting in a puddle that stained his feet orange. You’d have to clean him later.

He reached up a hand, messing with the caramel on his face before you slapped his hand away.

“No! I’ll have to put a new coating on you if you mess with it.”

He simply chuckled in response, “Not like I’d mind.”

Vee: “Cosmic Signal”

You sighed in relief as you checked over her mic, making sure there weren’t any scratches.

“Okay…finally done. Oof, that took a lot out of me.”

“I can tell. Making 25 different costumes that actually look good isn’t exactly an easy job.”

You perked up upon hearing this.

“So you DO like Scraps' costume!”

“What!? I-”

“I’m joking, I already know.”

She just glared at you and looked to the side.

[rebelliousstories]

For His Sake

Relationship: Sean Renard x Reader, Nick Burkhardt x Sister!Reader

Fandom: Grimm

Request: Yes by Anon

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Mentions of Violence and Blood

Word Count: 3,543

Main Masterlist: Here

Grimm Masterlist: Here

Summary: A Grimm and a zauberbiest can never get along… right?

I know not all that may be coming, but be it what it will, I'll go to it laughing.

In a quiet, sterile white lab, a woman sat hunched over a microscope. She was so deeply invested in her work that she did not notice that the door had been disturbed. The soft thudding of boots across the hard flooring did not reach her ears, nor did the calling over her name. However, when a hand was placed on her shoulder, the woman jumped, and spun the person around. Their face pressed against the cold, smooth table she had been working on, with their arm at an uncomfortable angle, threatening to break.

“Whoa! It’s okay, sis. Just us. You can let the captain go now.” Turning her head, her brother’s face greeted her, and below was the face of her boss. She immediately let go of the other man and leveled her sights on her brother.

“Couldn’t have knocked, Nicky?” She scoffed, turning back to whatever it was that she was examining.

“We did. Multiple times. And, before you ask, yes. We also called your name out. What are you so invested in over there?” Nick made his way over to where his sister had sat back down again. Their captain stood and was rubbing his right arm to ease the ache.

“I thought we were friends, Ms. Burkhardt.” Sean teased, finally getting some feeling back in his arm.

“Don’t sneak up on me and we wont have that problem.” Her voice was clipped, clearing not in the mood to entertain anyone at the moment. “To answer you, Nicky, I’m looking at some bacteria samples from a Vic that was brought in. They want a cause of death, and I would bet money that this guy injected some contaminated water. But I’ll have to watch for the tox screen to show up to make a full determination.”

“Well, that’s exciting. I guess. Listen, we got a tox screen that we need you to look at because it will cause to much attention going to someone else. What are we dealing with here?” The detective passed his sister a sheet and she scanned over it for a few minutes.

“Latroinsectotoxin. You’ve got a spinnetod on your hands. Kind of shocking considering how rare they are.” Passing the paper back, the woman dusted her hands off on her coat, and tried to go back to her work. But before she could, her brother caught her arm.

“One last thing, we’re going out tonight. Join us? Please.” Nick pleaded.

“Who’s all going?”

“Hank, Wu, Captain, Monroe and Rosalee. Then you and me. Come on, Rosalee is dying to see you again.”

The female Burkhardt was nodding back and forth, as if she was weighing her options literally. Silence kept ticking on which made her brother grow more and more nervous. It had been a really long time since they got to hang out with friends; her more so than him. She was always so busy with work and never seemed to have the time. Not to mention the fact that she made it very known her stance on Sean.

“Fine. But only for a few. I’ve got work in the morning.” With her concession to her brother’s plea, he bounced excitedly in his spot before wrapping his arms around his sister.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you. I swear you’re going to have a great time. Rosalee’s going to be so excited.” Nick began to walk out of the lab but only stopped when he did not hear a second set of footsteps following his. Turning around, he noticed that Sean and his sister were still standing there in silence, neither one quite knowing where to go from there.

“Captan, you coming?” He called out, breaking the taller man from his trance.

“Coming Nick.” Sean replied, letting his eyes stay on the other Burkhardt till he could no longer. If his staring had affected her, she did not let it show. She simply turned back to her work like nothing had ever happened. Nick supposed that this was better than her sending threatening glares towards the man; as she had been known to do in the past.

Later that day, Nick sent his sister a text of when and where to meet everyone. She was dreading going home and changing to go out. Not because she did not like to go out, because she did on occasion. But it was because Sean Renard was going to be there. If you had asked her even a year ago where she thought she would stand on the man, it would be a completely different answer. There was no longer any hostility from her, but definitely some trepidation. A zauberbiest working with a couple of Grimms was not how she had imagined her life to be going. And yet, there was something about Sean that she found intriguing.

Maybe it was his stature, the way he carried himself and projected his image. Or maybe it was the fact that he had not killed the Burkhardt’s when he found out they were Grimms. Whatever it was, she would never admit out loud that she found it interesting. For now, she remained cordial with him, purely for the sake of the workplace and her brother.

She parked her car along the street in front of the bar that they were all meeting at, and was pleasantly surprised to see that she was not the first one there. Monroe, Rosalee, Sean and Wu were already inside with a drink in hand when she opened the door. At the arrival of someone new, Rosalee stood and raced over like lightening to hug the new member of the party.

“Oh I’m so glad you could make it. We’ve missed you. Come one, have a drink.” She led the both of them over to a table in the corner. Rosalee was then replaced with her husband who hugged the female Burkhardt tight. By the time that she had ordered her first drink, Hank and Nick had shown up. Another round of greetings and hugs went around before the gang settled in for the night.

It had been a calm few weeks in terms of wesen. They had the odd killing here and there, but very little in wesen politics had actually occurred. It was a delightful change of pace. They laughed and caught up on what had been happening in the last few weeks. Throughout all of this, Nick’s sister was keeping a cordial stance towards Sean. But Sean was trying to interact with her. Every time he tried, something came up that prevented it.

He tried to get her to laugh, but all that was managed was a small smile. Sean refocused his efforts into keeping that smile on her face, but it dissolved into a grin the longer the night went on. Renard was not even sure why he was trying to get and keep her attention, but he had to have it.

“Alright, well I’m getting another drink. Do you want another on, hun?” Rosalee asked rubbing her shoulder gently.

“Yeah, another glass of wine please.” She passed her glass to the Fuchsbaus and watch as Rosalee and Monroe went up to the bar.

“I’m going to hit the head real quick. Be right back.” Hank declared, getting up as well. Wu followed him without a word and left the three at the table. Sensing the tension at the table, Nick stood.

“I’m getting another drink.” He went to go join Monroe and Rosalee at the bar, leaving his captain and his sister alone at the table. With no drink to distract herself, she began picking at her nails.

“How was your day?” Sean asked after a few minutes.

“Good. Yours?” She replied politely.

“Good.” He responded. Sean took a sip of his whiskey as they slipped back into silence.

“Do I make you uncomfortable?” The question came out of nowhere as they sat.

“What?” Her head shot up as he spoke, not quite catching what he said. Sean repeated his question.

“Oh, no. It’s not to do with you. I mean, it does a little but it’s mostly me.” He waited for a moment for her to continue on her explanation.

“Because of how we grew up, Nick and I have always been cautious and hesitant to trust someone. And with what we are, and what you are, well. I’m a little weary of you, captain.” She paused for a moment, desperately wishing she had a drink.

“A Grimm and zauberbiest?”

“Yeah. It’s nothing personal, captain.”

“Sean.” There was a pause.

“What?” She asked.

“You can call me Sean. We’re not at work.” Hs teasing little smirk made her feel something inside. Part of her wanted to see it more, the other wanted to slap it right off of his face. At that moment, everyone decided to come back to the table.

Hank and Wu were talking about something as they exited the bathrooms. Monroe, Rosalee, and Nick were also engaged in a conversation as they neared the table. Her brother passed her glass of wine back, and she eagerly took a sip.

“Hope we didn’t leave you two lovebirds alone too long.” Wu drawled, his face deadpan.

“Hey. That’s my sister.” Nick grumbled, even though his eyes were flickering between the two. Before she could respond to anyone, a phone rang out. It took a moment to react, but eventually she realized that it was her own.

“Excuse me.” She stood from her chair, and went to walk out of the front door. Sean’s eyes refused to leave her figure no matter how much he knew it would draw attention.

“Hello?” The phone clicked as she answered the call. A cool night breeze hit her in the face as she stepped outside of the bar.

“Hello?” She tried again.

“Count your days, Grimm.” A voice on the other end of the line growled. She gulped down the knot that was forming in her throat, and looked around in vigilance.

“Who is this?” There was only silence on the phone while she waited for an answer.

“See you soon, Grimm.” The line went dead. Burkhardt had clenched her jaw as she dropped her phone from her ear. There was a scuffle right behind her, but when she turned to catch what it was, something came in a clocked her across the face.

Falling to her knees, she tried to right her blurry vision in order to save herself. But another kick came in and hit her right across the ribs. It knocked her wind out of her lungs. A fist went to go connect with her face again, however, she grabbed it and yanked the person down. Standing, she was able to fix herself proper before the real event began.

A blutbad, skalengeck, and a klaustreich stood around her; and they looked angry. As she maneuvered around their hits and swipes, she tried to keep her back to the alley’s brick wall. The skalengeck held her hands and tried to bit her neck, but a push kick to his gut halted the movement. It allowed for the klaustriech to come in and swipe at her body with its sharpened claws. He managed to nick her arms with the tips, but the offending arm was twisted behind his back to the breaking point.

But while she was focused on those two, the blutbad managed to sneak up behind her. Burkhardt howled in pain as a bit was delivered to her shoulder. The Grimm slammed the blutbad into the brick wall behind them, causing it to disengage. Turning, she threw one, two, and three hits to the temples of the wesen. It dropped unconscious in the alley, and she turned her focus to the remaining two wesen.

The klaustriech tried again to swipe at the Grimm with its one good arm. She remained outside of his range, and kicked in his knee. It crumpled down in pain, now with a broken leg, and broken arm. Before she could render the man unconscious like his blutbad counterpart, a set of arms came up to grab her. She had failed to eliminate the skalengeck, which was proving unfortunate for her. Thankfully the klaustriech stayed down while she dealt with the other. However, his arm was cutting off her airways which made it difficult for her to fight back.

All of the sudden, her airways opened back up now that it did not have something constricting it. Couching and hacking as she tried to regain her breath, she turned to see Nick, Hank, and Monroe. Just behind them and coming in hot, was Sean, Wu, and Rosalee. Nick and Hank were busy cuffing up the three assailants while Monroe turned to help the female Burkhardt.

“Hey. Are you okay?” Monroe scanned his eyes over her form, taking in every injury and scratch.

“Yeah, I’m…” but she never could finish that sentence. Before anyone could react, she had fallen down in the middle of the alley. Monroe tried to catch her, but it only resulted in them crouching down together. Sean and Rosalee ran over to help keep the other Burkhardt from falling completely, while the three officers called in the attack.

“Is she okay? What’s going on?” Nick ran over to his sister who was unconscious.

“She’s got a nasty bit on her shoulder. Who has blood on their mouth?” Rosalee looked as she questioned. Monroe joined in her search and sniffed deeply.

“This one,” they came across one of the perps with blood on her mouth, “she’s a blutbad. Oh. That’s not good.”

“What is it? What can we do?” Nick was about to be sent into a full blown panic over his sister, who was now in Sean’s arms as the others were busy.

“Well, if my nose is right, and it usually is, then we need to get her to the spice shop. They have a poison all over their mouths. All three.” His grim assessment was enough to send Nick into his full blown panic. He was flittering about, trying to decide where he was needed most. Red and blue lights flashed as they neared the alleyway.

“Nick. Nick!” Rosalee barked, catching his attention. “Deal with the cops. Get these guys arrested. We’re going to take her to the spice shop to treat the poison, and then we’re taking her to the hospital. Buy us some time.”

The male Grimm nodded and tried to get his mind in gear. He watched Monroe, Rosalee, and Sean carry his sister off to their car. Renard stayed in the background with the female Burkhardt as Monroe nearly broke every traffic law to get them to the shop. If they had not been in such dire straits, Sean definitely would have said something.

In the spice shop, the bed was immediately put to use to house the woman that had yet to awaken from the sleep she had slipped in to. Sean remained at her side and brushed her hair from her face. As he did, he noticed that she was growing paler and sweating more than before. Monroe and Rosalee’s voices faded into background noise as they tried to find a cure for the poison affecting their friend. In the meantime, Renard held her hand and kept his eyes on her breathing.

By the time the couple had found the cure, the other three members of their party had arrived. Nick had rushed over to his sister’s other side and held her hand. Hank and Wu stood nearby, offering help and morale support.

“Damn it!” Rosalee exclaimed after a while. Everyone’s head shot up and looked over to where the married couple was busy mixing ingredients.

“What’s going on?” Nick pressured, standing up but not letting his sister’s hand go.

“Ugh,” she growled, “I should have read the recipe better. It requires blood from a Hexenbiest or zauberbiest because of the magical properties in the blood. I’m such an idiot.”

“Will it work with something else?” Nick was scared for his sister now.

“No. it has to be blood from one of those two. There’s nothing I can do to substitute it. I’m sorry, Nick.” Rosalee lamented. Her hands rubbed over her face and through her hair in frustration over the entire fiasco. Monroe pulled his wife in close as she tried not to let tears fall from her eyes.

“Will it work with half?” Sean suddenly said, without taking his eyes off of the unconscious Grimm.

“It might. Better than nothing.” Rosalee turned to face the man. He stood, looked at her one last time, and went over to the couple. Renard was already rolling up his sleeves so as to not get them more stained than they already were. The fuchsbau prepared a small knife, and slice the tip of the man’s finger. He winced, but that was all he showed in discomfort. Once she had what she needed, Rosalee went about mixing the salve and liquid that she needed to give.

“Okay. I’m going to put one on the wound itself, and another she has to drink. Just be ready.” Rosalee instructed, bringing a bowl over in her hands. Her husband stood behind her with a bowl in his own hand. Everyone held their breath as she deposited a liquid of sorts on to her shoulder. Sean resumed his spot on her right side, while Nick sat by her left. Monroe passed the second bowl, and watched as Nick held open her mouth. Rosalee poured the liquid into her mouth; and everyone waited.

“How long is this supposed to take?” Nick asked, keeping his eyes on his sister.

“With full blood, it’s supposed to be immediate. But with half, I’m not sure.” Rosalee admitted. Everyone sat there in silence and watching the woman that was resting on the bed. No one chose to draw attention to the fact that Renard was still holding her hand the entire time.

It took an hour for anything to happen. First it was little hand twitches that alerted the two men, who then alerted the others. Then it was facial movements. And finally, a deep breath was taken, and her eyes began to flutter. She groaned as the light from beside her head blinded her, to which Sean immediately shut off.

“Wha- what’s going on?” Her speech was slurred, but the relief that came across everyone’s face was infectious.

“Hey, sis. How are you feeling?” Nick leaned over and brushed some hair out of her face.

“Like I got hit by a truck. What happened?” Her speech was starting to become clearer and clearer as she became more in touch with the waking world.

“You got attacked. By the looks of it, it was Black Claw. You’re lucky to be alive.” Sean commented. Their hands were still joined together, but no one cared at that moment.

“They had poisoned you with a bite to your shoulder area. We had to create a salve and potion that reversed the effects. It’s a good thing Sean was here with us, otherwise… well, let’s not think about that.” Rosalee piped up from where her and Monroe stood. He had his arms wrapped around his wife in a comforting embrace, and a relieved look on his face.

“Why would it matter if Sean was here?” She asked, trying to raise her body up in the bed. Nick and Sean helped her sit up and refused to let her go.

“Well,” Monroe looked around for someone else who wanted to answer. No one was itching for that position. “The recipe required the blood of a Hexenbiest or zauberbiest. Since he’s half, he was our best shot. I’m going to make some tea for everyone. It’s bee a stressful night. Glad you’re awake.”

And with that, Monroe and Rosalee left. Hank came over and patted her uninjured shoulder, before leaving to follow the couple. Wu smiled and gave her a thumbs up before catching up with Hank.

“Hey,” her attention was drawn over to her brother. “I’m glad you’re alright.”

Nick left the pair of them with a smile and a kiss to her drying forehead. He went to go where the rest of them had gone, and that only left Sean and the other Burkhardt. They sat in silence for a while, but did not let go of their hands throughout all of it.

“Did you really use your blood to heal me?” She asked in a quiet voice eventually. Sean’s face tried to remain neutral, but a worry creeped in.

“It was the only way for Rosalee to heal you.” He answered, but she was not going to take that.

“That’s not what I asked.” Her statement was far more direct.

“Yes. I did.” Finally, Sean stated.

“Thank you. I appreciate it.” Her other hand began to fidget as they continued to sit there.

“You’re welcome.” His voice raspy and low. Her eyes drifted over to the hand that Sean had occupied and squeezed. They did not speak, but they both had come to a mutual understanding. Perhaps this could morph into something else. Something closer than they had before.

[thedvilsinthedetails]

rosekiller microfic

HAPPY INTERNATIONAL ACE DAY YAYAYAY

here enjoy a rosekiller microfic [1066 words so idk how micro it really is but shhhh] with ace Evan and Barty ‘no homo but I think I love you’ Crouch Jr [I love them so much]

“Truth or dare?”

“Aw come on you guys know me, dare obviously.”

Barty grinned at the circle of his friends sat cross legged all around him.

“Mmm I’ve got one.”

Regulus raised an eyebrow challengingly, everyone knew Regulus gave out the most brutal dares. Barty wasn’t phased though, it was almost impossible to make Barty embarrassed honestly, outwardly at least. Last time he’d taken a dare from Regulus he’d gone around school in bright pink robes for the next week. 

“Bring it on Reggie.”

“I dare you to make out with Evan till I stop you.”

Barty scrunched his nose.

“Oh is that it?”

“Uh rude.”

Evan said.

Barty turned to him quickly, placing a hand on his best friend’s cheek.

“Don’t be like that Goldilocks you know I’m hopelessly in love with you. I just meant Reg usually gives…more dramatic dares.”

“Yeah whatever prick. And who says I wanna make out with this dickhead anyway. It’s Bee’s dare not mine.”

“Aw come on Rosie don’t you think I’m pretty.”

Barty batted his eyes and pretended to fan himself, Evan shoved him to the ground with a laugh. Evan had one of the prettiest laughs Barty had ever seen. He wasn’t gay or anything but the way Evan’s halo of blonde curls bounced up and down gently made his stomach flip. Barty sort of wanted to reach out and run a hand through those curls actually, they looked soft. Evan looked soft, in a big purple hoodie and smooth warm skin and red lips currently stretched out in a big smile that just made his whole face light up. Barty found himself joining in. Evan pulled him up off the wooden floor and ran a hand through Barty’s hair, messing it up affectionately.

“Fine, I guess I’ll do it.”

Barty turned, facing Evan properly and lifting a hand to his cheek as Evan pulled him in by the collar. They were so close now, hesitating just before their lips pressed and all Barty could think was EvanEvanEvan. 

He could smell him, the conditioner he used softly scented of toffee and pears.

He could feel his breath warm and tickling against his skin.

“Come on get on with it. 

Regulus huffed. And suddenly they were meeting in the middle and Evan’s lips were pressed against him and he tasted better than Barty could ever have imagined and and-wow. This was nice. This was lovely. Barty’s hands wandered to Evan’s hair, fingers running through it like he’d imagined only moments ago. But it was so much better than he’d imagined. Evan was so. And it was wonderful. And the way Evan had his arms wrapped around Barty’s waist, pulling him closer made the butterflies in his stomach just soar. He wanted to stay like this forever, just utterly surrounded by Evan. He loved this. He loved- Oh. Oh. 

Oh that’s what this was. 

And it all made sense suddenly.

Evan pulled back panting for a moment and Barty tried to bite back the smile he could feel forming on his face as he saw Evan’s kiss bitten lips. 

He leaned back in again to keep going but Evan glanced his eyes around and sighed.

“Barty.”

He motioned his hand out and Barty glanced around. The room was empty, the others must have snuck out while he and Evan were- he tried to stifle his smile again as he thought about it. He clearly didn’t manage very well because Evan flicked his arm angrily.

“It’s not funny.”

“No, no I wasn’t laughing I just…had fun.”

Evan glanced up at him eyes wide and pupils dilated.

“Y-you did?”

“Yeah. We could…keep going. Only if you wanted obviously.” Barty mumbled. 

Evan opened his mouth and then shut it again. 

“I- I don’t know if that’s such a good idea Barty.”

Barty felt his world crash down around him. Or it felt something like that at least.

“Yeah. Yeah it was stupid I shouldn’t have- I uh-“

His words felt like lead in his mouth. He was so stupid. So fucking dumb. He-

“Barty.”

Evan’s voice was soft and grounding. Evan’s hand on his shoulder was even more grounding. He looked up at his best friend.

“You good?” Evan asked.

“Yeah. Thanks. I just shouldn’t have said that.”

“Barty…do you like me?”

“I- yeah. A lot actually.”

It felt somehow wonderful and horrifyingly disarming to admit. He squirmed under Evan’s gaze. Vulnerable, as a rule, was not a thing Barty Crouch Jr strived to achieve. 

Evan’s eyebrows shot up.

“Oh. Oh same. I really…”

Barty’s breath hitched. 

“Be my boyfriend, please.”

He asked voice scratchy and quiet.

Evan paused. He seemed to be having a conversation in his mind, eyebrows furrowing. Barty reached up and pressed a thumb between his two brows.

“Talk to me.”

Evan sighed softly.

“I can’t give you the things you want in a relationship.”

“Evan the thing I want is you.”

“I know. But I don’t, I hate sex, it just grosses me out and I don’t think I’ll ever want to do it and I know you like it and- and I don’t want you getting bored of just me.”

“How could I ever get bored of just you?” Barty murmured, eyes searching Evan’s face for some kind of plausible answer. Impossible. Because I could never be bored of him.

“Barty there’s no going back if this all blows up in our faces.”

Evan warned but Barty could feel the way his face had edged closer.

“Evan there already is no going back. Besides I never want to. I want to spend the rest of my life with you.”

And with that they kissed again. And when they broke apart again it was because Barty couldn’t stop grinning. Foreheads pressed together they breathed gently.

“So will you be my boyfriend?”

Barty asked with a chuckle.

Evan mussed up his hair again.

“What do you think you cunt?”

“Mmm I think your insults won’t work anymore now that I know how irresistible you find me.”

Evan groaned as Barty tugged him up to standing.

“I take it all back, I hate you.”

Barty laughed, pulling Evan to his bed. 

They fell asleep there, cuddling and whispering soft words and gentle laughter till Regulus found them in the morning, curled up against each other with soft smiles.

“Fucking FINALLY!”

Barty and Evan just laughed. 

[writeforfandoms]

Waking Lions 17

Find the series masterlist

You finally give Price what you both want.

Warnings: Smut. That's it. PiV sex, unprotected sex, oral sex (m receiving), teasing, dirty talk, cuddling, pet names.

This chapter has basically nothing to do with the plot, so if you want, you can safely skip this chapter.

Word count: 2k

John Price x f!reader

The view was even nicer without clothes in the way, something you decided as soon as you got John’s shirt off. 

His hair felt good against your skin, but he wasn’t content to simply let you explore. He evened the playing field, tossing your shirt off somewhere in the room. 

You were tempted to ask about the scars you could see, but, well… You didn’t want the distraction. Not tonight. Perhaps another time. Tonight you had a goal. 

That thought in mind, you gently nudged him back, further into the room. He quirked one eyebrow at you but followed your lead, easy as anything. 

“Got somethin’ in mind?” he rumbled, hands smoothing over your skin, like he was trying to memorize the shape of you against his fingers. 

“I do.” You grinned, backing him up until you could push him back to sit on the bed. He bounced a little and tipped his head up at you. 

“Guess I’ll follow your lead,” he murmured. Like it was that easy. Like he meant it. 

Like he meant it for more than just this moment. 

You swallowed hard and dropped to your knees to distract yourself. You removed your bra, tossing it aside and watching his gaze drop to newly-exposed skin with no small amount of satisfaction. He reached for you and you tsked, catching his hands. His hands were deliciously big and warm, and you knew you only caught him because he let you. 

“Not yet,” you scolded lightly, guiding his hands to the side of the bed instead. “My turn first.”

John huffed softly but obeyed, curling his fingers into the mattress. He even lifted his feet, one at a time, to help you get his boots off. They thumped loudly to the floor when you tossed them out of the way, socks quick to follow. His chuff of laughter was short, but still enough for you to lean in, bullying your way between his knees to press your teeth to his sternum. His groan was so low you felt it against your lips and teeth more than you actually heard it.

“Minx,” he growled, fingers flexing against the mattress. 

“Only sometimes.” You flashed a grin up at him, hands working his belt deftly. “You like my attitude.”

“To my detriment.” But John held still, looking down at you, eyes dark with desire. 

“It works in your favor. Sometimes.” You had his pants undone in record time, tugging once so that he’d get the hint and lift his hips. Which he did. Your mouth watered at the sight of him bare before you, still seated on the bed. Fuck but you could just look at him all night, watching the subtle play of muscle under his skin, tracking the patterns of hair across his body. “You are entirely too tempting, John.”

His eyes went wide and he opened his mouth, probably to comment on your use of his name.

You didn’t give him the chance. 

One hand held his cock steady while your lips fastened around the head, letting you lap eagerly at his taste. This groan was louder, less restrained. You didn’t chastise him when one of his hands cupped the back of your head, not guiding or restraining you. Just holding you. 

You’d always loved doing this. Reducing someone to wordless pleasure. It wasn’t something you got to do all that often, and not something you were willing to do for every partner. 

But for John? You were determined to see just how far you could push him. 

The ache of him stretching your jaw and lips was delightful, his taste thick on your tongue as you sank further down. Your free hand splayed over his thigh to keep him in place, hair delightful against your palm even as you started to bob your head, slow and steady. The bitten-off swears just made you hotter. 

“Fuck,” John hissed, his free hand clenching tight around the bedsheets. “Too good at this, love. Gonna let me get my hands on you?” 

You pulled back, taking a few moments to breathe while he looked down at you, eyes nearly black with desire. “Not yet.” You grinned at his soft groan but allowed the hand on your head to remain. You were just having a little too much fun teasing him. But he allowed it, allowed you to take your time running your tongue along his skin, chasing the taste of him. 

You did have some mercy, pulling back with a pop. “Don’t move.” 

He blinked once but stayed where he was, watching with rapt attention as you shucked the rest of your clothes, tossing them elsewhere, to be dealt with later. 

You gave him a moment to look, smirking down at him. Your knees settled outside his hips, your hands at his shoulders. His shoulders were every bit as strong as you'd always imagined, firm and steady under your touch. 

"Need a hand?" He offered, voice rumbling in the scant space between you two. His hand landed on your hip, just holding. 

"Nope." You licked your lips, looking down between the two of you at the girth of him. "You'll be a good stretch." 

"Sure you don't–" John choked a little as you took him in hand, guiding him to your entrance. 

Sinking down on him was a delicious stretch, a unique kind of painful pleasure. You paused half-way down to breathe, biting your lip to keep back your own sounds. John bumped his forehead into yours, far too tender. 

“Alright, love?” he managed, voice tight. 

“Just need a second.” You breathed in, holding his gaze. His facial hair tickled your cheeks, his smell nearly overpowering. Your eyes fluttered closed for a moment, allowing yourself a moment of just experiencing him. 

Then you moved, sinking down the rest of the way, thighs trembling. “Fuck,” you gasped, ass resting against his thighs, the girth of him just the right side of painful. 

“You feel bloody amazing,” he murmured, the hand on your hip squeezing gently. 

You hummed softly, intentionally clenching around him just to watch his face scrunch, breath hissed out between his teeth.

“Minx,” he growled again, hips bucking up into you. 

“You like it,” you managed, squeezing his shoulders before shamelessly moving. This was perfect - you could feel all of him, but you were in control of the pace. It was thrilling to see him under you, pliant and wanting. His other hand finally settled on your thigh, and you allowed it. He didn’t try to control the pace, just feeling your skin and offering support if you needed it. 

Frankly, he felt amazing. Hot and thick, steady under you, making the best little punched-out noises. You could do this all night. 

Except you really couldn’t, not when your thighs trembled and the coil of heat in your belly drew tighter and hotter. 

“Fuck,” you finally gasped, nails digging into his shoulders, head tipping back. 

“What do you need?” His voice was even rougher now, hands flexing against your skin. 

“Touch me,” you finally gave in. You grabbed his hand, guiding his fingers between the two of you, showing him exactly how. HIs breath stuttered but he followed your example, reading you with almost frightening ease. Your gasp was barely muffled, eyes sliding closed as you moved faster, desperate now. 

The coil in you snapped, sudden and sharp, and you moaned, eyelids fluttering as you came around him. John groaned, eagerly helping you through it, greedily watching every moment until you finally stilled on his lap. His free hand cupped the back of your head, guiding your forehead to his, holding you steady. 

“Good?” he asked softly.

“Very.” You smiled, wiggling a little in his lap just to hear him hiss. “Not done with you yet, though.”

“My turn now, love.” John smirked, and you had a moment to realize he’d been indulging you, before the world flipped. John tipped you onto the bed, twisting the two of you so he was on his knees between your thighs, looking down at you. “Should make you keep your hands to yourself.”

“You could try,” you taunted, tipping your chin, both surprised and impressed that your head was actually on a pillow. “I don’t listen well.”

He smirked down at you. “I noticed.” He settled over you slowly, letting anticipation build again, holding your gaze. The heat of him against you was addictive, and you hiked your knees up over his hips. He huffed softly at you, equal parts amused and aroused. “Don’t need to tempt me, love,” he murmured, softer and sweeter. 

“Don’t I?” But you smiled, hands cupping his cheeks to guide him down into a kiss. That got him moving, groaning softly against your lips as his hips pressed against yours. He pulled back just enough to watch you as he pushed into you again. 

You shivered hard, biting your lip at the feeling. Fuck but he felt good - thick and hot and satisfying. Even better when he started to move, almost teasingly slowly at first. 

“John,” you finally murmured, giving up on holding back your noises. Especially when his hips jerked at the sound of his name from your lips. 

“Minx,” he rumbled again, softer this time, more affectionate. The next snap of his hips made you gasp, a wolfish grin stretching his lips. “Let’s see what other pretty noises I can get you to make, hm?” 

And he promptly set about testing that with sharp snaps of his hips, lips trailing down your jaw and throat, hands roaming and touching every inch of you he could reach. He moved with purpose every time, watching you closely. He wound you up so easily you hardly believed this was the first time he was touching you. 

You did your best to give as good as you got, but he was relentless and determined. You fell first, shouting his name, nails digging into his back.  When his hips stuttered, you only tightened your legs around his waist, keeping him where you wanted him even as he swore and groaned. 

He didn’t collapse on you, but he did relax a little, resting a bit of his weight against you. You hummed, pleased with this, fingers gentle now as you combed through his hair. 

“Should’ve asked earlier,” he mumbled finally, pressing a kiss to your shoulder. 

“I’ve got an implant.” You shrugged a little, careful not to dislodge him. “And I’m clean.” 

“As am I.” John finally pushed himself up and away from you, ignoring your little whine. “Gonna get a washcloth, love, that’s all.”

You pouted but waited for him, stretching out a little. A soft hum served as your warning before he cleaned you up, surprisingly gentle. 

Far too dangerous. 

“Stop running around,” you grumbled at him, and the irony of you telling him that was not lost on you. “C’mere.” 

His lips quirked but he got into bed with you again, settling down and letting you wrap yourself around him, sated and warm. He made a good pillow, warm and firm but apparently perfectly willing to let you get comfortable. A scar on his chest caught your eye - a slash, looked like. Someone had gotten too close while he was unarmored. 

You pressed a kiss to the spot. 

“Tryin’ to tempt me again, love?” His voice was soft despite the teasing, one broad hand sweeping gently up and down your back. 

“Not quite.” You didn’t elaborate, though, tucking your head down. It was safer to keep the depth of your affection to yourself. “Just getting comfy.”

His soft huff of air tickled the top of your head, but he didn’t stop the soothing up and down of his hand against your back. “Go to sleep,” he murmured, the softest you’d ever heard him. 

You settled further against him, closing your eyes. You thought it would take a long time to fall asleep, with the warmth and scent of him so close, and your history of not sleeping well sharing a bed.

You were out in minutes.

[doginabirdcage]

a muse by any other name

InuKag Week 2024. Prompt: contrast. I love this fic format and have been wanting to play with it for a while. I hope you like it too.

FIVE MINUTES BEFORE

Inuyasha is in the throes of a fitful reenactment of the path that led to his destruction. Kikyo's arrows were hurtling towards him at a vengeful speed. He could hear them sizzle as they made contact with everything except his flesh, but his gracefulness didn't last forever.

The arrow that hit him burned on the way through. It carved away at him for fifty years. He would never be the same again.

DAYS AFTER

Kagome stormed away from him, her ponytail swishing angrily with her movements. Looking at her dressed as a priestess was fucking with him. He was already on edge around her and this didn't help.

He ran after her, "Don't leave with the shards!"

HALF A CENTURY AGO

Kikyo calmly walked up a grassy knoll to meet him. He could see a creepy cave over her shoulder. The inside looked gloomy and dark. Thick dirt-covered roots hung over the mouth of the entrance.

"What's in there?"

"His name is Onigumo," she sighed, "he's a bandit with severe burns. He is..."

"Weird!" Young Kaede peeked out from behind her older sister.

"Hush now, Kaede. Whatever he's done, we cannot judge him. He's not long for this world."

DURING

Her smell was a combination of the familiar and the novel. Her face was eerily similar but uniquely different from Kikyo's. Her anger was captivating, and he couldn't take his eyes off of her because of it. That and she had the sacred jewel inside of her a moment ago.

HOURS AFTER

Old Kaede was dressing the girl's wounds and she hissed in pain when the bandages were smoothed over.

"Stop whinin'. You're alive, ain't you?"

"No one asked you!" She sat up too quickly and grimaced.

"Pay him no mind, Kagome. The boy is just mad that ye collared him."

"Right," she said smugly, "Sssss..."

Inuyasha flinched and stared at her accusingly. “Don't do it!"

"Then don't be mean!"

MONTHS LATER

Inuyasha stared at the arrow in the wall with disbelief. Was this really happening all over again?

"Why?"

Beads of sweat dripped down Kagome's forehead as she struggled to aim her bow at him. "G-get away... Inuyasha!"

His feet were glued to the floor. Tsubaki was controlling Kagome. Nothing could make him leave her.

"Idiot! As if I would leave you right now!"

He ran head first into her arrowhead, consequences be damned.

FIVE HUNDRED YEARS IN THE FUTURE

"Put this cap and shoes on, Inuyasha. No one can see your ears. Don't make that face! You want to try WacDonald's, don't you?"

"I'm not sure it's worth the cost," he grumbled silently as Sota bounced around merrily at their feet.

"I can't wait for you to try barbecue sauce!"

Even though his ears were molded to his head the whole time because of the hat and his feet were imprisoned, the barbecue sauce was good.

ONE NEW MOON LATER

"I guess being a full demon might be nice. But I like you just the way you are, Inuyasha."

TWO YEARS AFTER

Had Inuyasha known that he'd never see Kagome again, he might have behaved better.

Held her tighter.

Agreed with her more.

Told her...he didn't know what he'd tell her.

But had he known, maybe it wouldn't hurt so much to look at the empty well. Maybe he wouldn't visit it so often.

FIVE YEARS AFTER

"Her name is Moroha," Kagome told their friends with a watery voice. She was still in the birthing bed. Her hair was wild and some strands stuck to her face. "Isn't she beautiful?"

Yes, she is, he thought.

[sweetlikehoneystingslikeabee]

Headcanon that Black Mask likes to make his partner wear a black choker 24/7. It’s more elegant than a collar but it gets the same message across. You’re his.

And if you get angry at him and take it off one time? Well. He’ll just have to teach you a very unforgettable lesson about why you’re never, ever going to do that again.

"Lesson Plan" Black Mask x Reader

I'm gonna give you a little blurb ;) This one spoke to me.

Here is some 24/7 dynamics for Roman as an addition to this!

TW: NSFW, punishment, spanking, hand on neck, thigh fucking, angry sex

When you had become official with Roman Sionis, there were certain expectations you knew you'd come to face. His temper, his career, the people he surrounded himself with. Certainly, this only intensified when the two of you had agreed on certain "rules" to be followed in the relationship. One of them concerned with a tasteful black choker you needed to wear day and night.

He'd helped you pick it out. Made sure it was comfortable for constant wear, properly fit- the only time you were to take it off was in the shower. Or, in an instance that you needed it off besides an obvious emergency, you would simply tell him. In this way, he was rather reasonable despite his reputation.

And today... you simply didn't feel like it. The two of you had been fighting, bickering. He was busy all the time. He'd been rude to you at a party. It was frankly embarrassing the way he shouted at some random waiter working the event. You'd had just about enough. So when you saw the black line across your neck in a mirror in your shared bedroom, you found yourself tearing it off.

"And another thing-" Roman's voice bounced off the walls as he rounded the corner and saw the choker in your hand, "Are you fucking kidding me? Are you really gonna do this right now?"

"Fuck you, Roman!" You shouted before throwing it at him.

He let it hit his chest and fall to the floor, "Oh, you are really fuckin' pushing it. I've had it-"

"No, I've had it! Maybe I don't want people to think I'm yours anymore!" You didn't mean it. You both knew that. Yet in the haze of rage, it slipped so slick off your tongue, "Maybe..." You hesitated, knowing what you said was hurtful.

"Maybe what, sunshine?" There was a growl to his voice.

"I don't..." Your face was flushed and silence settled between the two of you. Roman huffed, his hand on the wall. He could punch a hole in it right now if he wouldn't have to fix the damn thing later. No, he needed to get this anger out another way. A look passed over his face and he was approaching you quickly, a hand grabbing your arm.

His tone of voice tested the waters, "'Maybe' you need a reminder of whose in charge here. You broke a rule- I'm not gonna stand here and let you act like a brat because you didn't like how I handle things. You're mine." You recognized what he was getting at. It was so tempting to tell him to take a hike off a cliff edge. If you told him as much, he'd back off.

And yet... it broke just enough of your focus on being angry... that you thought it over. Let it sift through your brain. Was it a little bit of guilt? Your eyes narrowed at him. One foot forward between his.

You found yourself spitting at him, "I'd love to see you prove that." It was all at once a challenge- And an open acceptance of his invitation to play.

In a fraction of a moment, he swept your foot out from underneath you, twisting your back to his front. Your arms were now behind your back, held in place by his hands. The solid smooth feel of his mask curved against your skull as his mouth pinched the helix of your ear.

"You're gonna wish you had that choker on." He hissed, using one of his hands to pull the bottom half of your clothing off, "You're gonna wish you didn't defy me."

A yelp leaps from your throat on the first swing of his hand against your thigh. He's kicking your feet forward, forcing you to step until you're facing the bed, pushing you down on your front. As you try to gain purchase on your arms, his hand comes down in another strike against your thighs. The other hand goes to the back of your neck, thumb curling under the mandible of your jaw.

"Did I say you could get up?" He bumps the front of his pants against your ass, pinning you between him and the bed, "Stay still now."

The click of his belt was a sound you were all too familiar with. Your hands grasped at the sheets, even as he let off the pressure against your body. You shouldn't have sighed. You should have taken a deep breath to prepare for the sting of the belt just under your cheeks. He clicked his tongue, fingers prying between your legs. Stroking you just so.

"Figures you'd be wet. Gimme a count." Then he's wiping off his gloves on your shirt. Bastard.

"Th...three so far." You groaned. Tears pricked your eyes.

A cruel laugh echoed in the room, "Alright, so we've determined... you're not fucking stupid. Must be some other reason you broke that rule. You like pissin' me off?"

"No-" You took a sharp breath.

Another swat of the belt made you cry out, and Roman mused, "You sure?" He even lifts your head just so he can hear better.

"Four- I'm sure-"

He let's go of your neck. Despite him not putting much strength into it, you feel yourself breathing easier. More hits of the belt along your thighs- You call out the numbers and you hear a drawer open. The sound of slick being spread over your lover's cock. Your hips lift, hoping for some relief for the heat building in your core.

"Nah, nah, nah. You think I'm gonna fuck you?" Roman asks, "You're lucky I'm using you to get off." One last slap, this time with his hands before you feel his slicked cock sliding against the sore skin and muscles between your legs.

Even in your current situation, the friction was giving you some minor relief. Better than nothing, anyways. The pain made your mouth water and moan. Two fingers were finding their way into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue and holding your teeth open.

"Don't hide a sound from me. I wanna hear how you love being fucked by me." The fabric of his pants slapped against your backside as his pace increased. Saliva pooled out of your mouth and you felt a pleasurable fog trickle through your mind. Every minor reaction made him press into your skin harder, as if he could melt into you.

You tried to tell him please- to please just fuck you- But it only came out garbled, incomprehensible. You felt the fingers pull back and Roman's body leaning over yours.

"Got somethin' you wanna say?" He rearranged himself so he was pressing just at your entrance. If you tried to move, he was moving back just enough to deny you.

You moaned, "Please- I'm sorry-"

"Sorry, I don't understand whiny slut. Try again." He stroked along that sweet spot.

A deep breath, "I'm sorry... for taking the choker off."

"Why's that?" Roman pressed the tip in.

An anguished sound, "Because I'm yours?"

"Fuckin' a right, you're mine." Roman grabs as much of your hair as he can, close to the skull, before pressing deep inside you. Both of you sound relieved.

Truthfully, Roman had been holding strong for most of that. Mentally trying to stop himself from getting too excited. Now that he was inside of you, pressed against your walls... It didn't take long for him to reach his peak. He pulled out of you, jerking himself to that final completion.

"W-wait-" You protested. A growl came out of Roman's throat and you could feel the warmth of his cum speckle over your bruised and blooming skin. A gentle touch was helping you stand properly.

"Wait, what?" Your boyfriend sounded downright smug, "You got me inside of you. Wasn't that nice? ...What the fuck did you expect from a punishment?" He was fixing himself up as you stood there, sore, sticky and way too turned on.

"I..." You couldn't argue, then you stated calmly, "...Thank you, sir."

There was a smile in his voice, "That's good. Oh and, uh, don't you dare get yourself off tonight. Why don't you hop in the shower and I'll get some stuff ready?"

You nodded, coming down from the high of that mental space. When you wobbled for a moment, he immediately put his arm out for you to hold. Helped you take your top off and get to the shower before he started rummaging through the medicine cabinet. You were going to need some numbing cream, that was for sure. He could already see the swelling marks of the swats on your backside.

By the time you got out, he was waiting to pamper you. Not only that, but there was a change of clothes. On top, was your thin black choker.

[octoberobserver]

We're a Documentary, Not a Fucking Sitcom - WWDITS Fic

(Read on ao3 here)

I read ' 'The power dynamics seem so problematic. I mean, that’s his boss,' and this possessed me. Enjoy! 😉

“I shouldn’t have done that.”

Guillermo blinked his eyes open, the ghost of Nandor’s cold, smooth lips still lingering on his own.

He had just kissed him. Right on the mouth, mid-sentence, on a random Tuesday night, three months after Guillermo became human again.

“I…Mas–Nan…”

The words died in his throat as his brain whirred like a computer with too many tabs open.

“I am your boss,” Nandor continued as if he had not heard him, beginning to pace the length of the Fancy Room. “You are my employee. It is frowned upon…problematic.”

That snapped Guillermo out of his stupor, frowning as he tried to make sense of his rambling.

“Okay, first of all, employees get paid. If anything, I was an unpaid labourer,” he held up his hand to stop himself from tracing his lips with the pad of his thumb.

“Second of all, you’re not my boss anymore anyway. I’m just your human roommate now, remember? I have a new job teaching self-defense down at the YMCA. I’m not your familiar. We’re equals. We made the deal that I would stay in this house once none of you treated me like shit anymore and you got a new familiar. You’re just too stubborn to let me help you pick a replacement.”

That stopped the vampire in his tracks, a petulant pout on his handsome face.

“That’s because they are all terrible, Guillermo! Francine didn’t know how I like my hair combed, and Jason did not do my buttons up correctly!”

“You didn’t give them a chance to learn!”

“You picked it up right away!”

“Well, not everyone can be me!”

“I know! That’s the problem!”

Somehow they had closed the distance between them and were right back where they started moments ago, mere inches from each other. Naturally, Guillermo’s eyes fell on those pale, alluring lips, but he dragged them back up to a safe spot, focussing on the crinkle between Nandor’s eyebrows from where his head was bent downwards.

“Third of all,” he forced out, his breath no doubt bouncing off his chin. “‘Problematic?’ Seriously? You brutally killed innocent people that I lured here every single week for the last thirteen years. And you’re worried about us having a…a ‘workplace kiss’ being problematic?”

Look. It wasn’t like it had never crossed his mind. Both kissing Nandor and the very morally bankrupt decision to feed random humans to a group of bloodthirsty vampires every week for his entire adult life. But ever since he was faced with directly killing an innocent person so he could live and being unable to do it, he was questioning himself and his choices more and more lately.

(The whole wanting to kiss his former Master thing was a constant, ongoing thing. And definitely not a recent development. But that was his business.)

“Well,” Nandor waved a hand, undeterred. “Darla said it is frowned upon.”

Guillermo squinted up at him.

“And who is Darla?”

“My spotter at the gym. She’s a grandma looking to strengthen her pelvic floor.”

“Ew, what—? No. Doesn’t matter,” he winced. “So, what would Darla think about you kissing someone ten seconds after they tell you they’re going on a date? Is that not ‘problematic?’”

Nandor scrunched up his nose.

“Well, it just happened, so how would I have time to tell—”

“Mierda,” he muttered under his breath, staring up at the ceiling for a God he couldn’t believe in anymore.

“I shouldn’t have kissed you, Guillermo. I am sorry,” Nandor said in the ‘I’m trying to be diplomatic but am being a giant baby about it’ voice that he found hard to truly hate. “I just…thought that you had sworn off dating?”

A disbelieving laugh escaped his chest.

“So, what, you thought you’d kiss me in…protest?”

Something warm was fluttering around his abdomen as his heart beat what felt like a million times a second, his brain very unhelpfully replaying the kiss over and over in his head.

Stop thinking about it, stop thinking about it, stop—

“I’m just confused,” Nandor was shrugging when he forced himself to focus. “You seemed uninterested in dating, and now you come in here and tell me not to wait up because you’re going out with some fucking gu—”

“And why is it you think I’d be uninterested in dating, Nandor? Would it be ‘cause the last boyfriend I had, you fucking cloned for yourself, and then sent him away so he could meet up with Freddie and have him cheat on me with himself?!”

The words echoed throughout the large room.

Nandor looked just like he did when he'd been slapped.

“Guiller—”

“No. Let’s talk about it,” he cut him off, shooting a glance at the nearest camera before glaring up at him. “I’m so sick, of never talking about things in this house. Just letting them revert back to the status quo. We’re a documentary, not a fucking sitcom,” he huffed, pointing a finger in his face, still standing so close he almost poked him.

“You turned your wife into my boyfriend, and that was really fucked up. You know, something actually ‘problematic.’”

He added extra sarcasm and generous bunny ears around the word, scorn and hurt rising within him from where it had laid dormant for over a year.

“You destroyed Marwa, and then my relationship, and you’ve never once taken responsibility for it. Or anything else you’ve ever done. So if you wanna talk about what’s ‘problematic,’ let’s start—”

“I changed her back.”

Guillermo froze.

“What?”

Nandor was busy staring at the red couch, murmuring so quietly that he almost didn’t hear him.

“I said I changed her back. I used my remaining wishes to…undo it all. Give her the life she deserves…without me. She’s in Washington now. Has gone back to school, last I heard.”

His heart skipped a beat as he digested that.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Well,” Nandor scoffed, stepping even closer, gaze locked back on him. “I might have if you hadn’t been so busy conspiring with Laszlo because you went behind my back and got Derek to turn you INTO A VAMPIRE. DEREK! FUCKING GUY.”

Guillermo’s blood began to boil, spilling like molten lava in his veins.

“Because YOU WERE NEVER GOING TO!” he exploded. “After YEARS of putting up with all of your shit, I had enough of waiting!”

Nandor’s jaw clenched.

“I was going to turn you, even though I wasn’t sure if it was right for you, but you abandoned me for London!”

“Laszlo locked me in a coffin and shipped me to London like a giant FedEx package! I had literally zero control over that!” Guillermo shot back.

“Well,” Nandor cast his eyes around the room for an answer and grinned humorlessly when he found one. “You didn’t look for me.”

Oh, hell no.

“Yes, I did! But I had no way of contacting you,” Guillermo spat. “I had Nadja reach out through the ether and said she couldn’t find you, that you were blocking her somehow. So, yeah. It wasn’t like you were looking for me, either!”

His chest was heaving like an overwhelmed Victorian maiden whilst Nandor was as still as a statue, but he didn’t care.

Finally. Finally he was airing his grievances. After all this time. Years and years of pent-up anger and hurt and resentment, they were finally talking about it all. And God, it felt amaz—

“I was mad at you when you didn’t meet me on that platform…you broke my heart.”

Those words turned his molten blood to ice.

But that didn’t stop his own words from tumbling out of his mouth anyway.

“Yeah, well. You broke mine first.”

Their eyes met.

Silence engulfed the room.

“That’s a lot of information to get in thirty seconds.”

His head whirled around to find Colin Robinson staring at them from the doorway.

“This is a private conversation, Colin Robinson,” Nandor replied, his gaze still burning a hole into Guillermo. “Leave. Now.”

“Right. Private,” Colin retorted with his usual deadpan tone, gesturing to the cameras. “Whatever. Just fuck already. It’s faster. Especially the way Nandor does it.”

They listened to his retreating steps for a beat, Nandor cursing him under his breath.

“Did he quote Friends?” Guillermo gaped after him, realising it was in vain when he remembered who he was asking, though he could swear he saw one of the camera crew quietly nodding.

“Do not change the subject, Guillermo,” Nandor drew him back in, his dark gaze unwavering. “What did you mean when you said I broke your heart first?”

They don’t call him ‘The Relentless’ for nothin’.

“Come on,” he cleared his throat, his heart firmly lodged there as he tried to step around him. “We don’t have to do this. It doesn’t matter anymore.”

“Yes, it does, and yes, we do,” his hand shot out inhumanly fast and held him in place by the wrist, firmly but not something he couldn’t break from. “You wanted to talk, so talk. Please.”

What were you saying about pent-up feelings, again?

“You,” he took a shaky breath, forcing himself to stand his ground. “You…have to know how I…how I’ve felt all these years. I know you’re not that dumb.”

Nandor’s lips parted, but Guillermo kept going, words flowing from him like a burst dam.

“Every cruel word, every dismissal, every time you rebuffed my hugs or compliments or belittled me or my accomplishments…it was death by a thousand cuts. Because I fuckin’ loved you anyway.”

A bitter laugh escaped him as tears stung his eyes.

“Huh. Now that’s problematic.”

The silence was deafening.

Nandor had yet to move an inch, not even to blink.

Well, you’ve done in now, de la Cruz. And even managed to reference a Taylor Swift song. Bravo.

Seconds ticked into nearly a minute, and Guillermo was really starting to get freaked ou—

“‘Loved…’” came a raspy voice, barely above a whisper. “...as in past tense?”

He stared at the hand that was still clasping his wrist, right over his hummingbird pulse point and thought, fuck it.

“Love. I love you, Nandor. I always have. And I meant it when I said I was gonna be right here by your side. Even…even if it’s just as your friend and roommate. Because that’s what love means.”

He had done a lot of brave things in his life. Had taken on and killed dozens of vampires, faced witches, zombies and werewolves without batting an eye, and had emo bangs way past 2012, but Guillermo de la Cruz had never felt true bravery until this exact moment.

He watched as Nandor’s face crumpled like creepy paper, his eyes squeezing shut as he took in a deep breath he didn’t need and mumbled to himself.

“Floating through the cold, dark universe like a little grain of furry sand.”

“...what?”

Those large, dark eyes that he loved so much popped open, and he almost gasped at their intensity.

“I…I once thought I was completely alone in this world, Guillermo. Without someone to love or love me. But I’m realising now that that hasn’t been true for a long time, has it?”

Guillermo swallowed the lump in his throat.

He shook his head.

Slowly, a small smile spread on Nandor’s face, his thumb brushing against the thin skin of his wrist.

“And it hasn’t for you either, you know.”

Guillermo felt his brow furrow.

“Wha—”

Cold, soft lips covered his for the second time that night. Heart hammering against his ribcage, he hurried to kiss back this time, leaning up on his tip-toes and gently trailing his tongue along Nandor’s bottom lip.

The kiss deepened as he opened his mouth, the corner of one of his fangs brushing against Guillermo’s tongue and sending a thrill through his entire body. They gripped each other, on the edge of frantic.

“That is why I kissed you, Guillermo,” Nandor murmured, leaning back to press his face into his jaw, peppering little pecks there. “I love you too. But I was too dumb to acknowledge it. Until I thought I was losing you again.”

Shock flowed through Guillermo at both confessions, gripping the back of his neck to pull him further down into him, arousal sparking in his gut as a large hand clutched his hip and pulled them flush together, covering his mouth with his carefully but passionately.

Over six feet of solid muscle draped over him like an awning, and he had never felt more in tune with his own body before, letting himself get lost in the sensation.

Dios mio.

After a few seconds, minutes, or several years, his heart squeezed on the bridge of pain, his head spinning a little, his lips growing numb.

Breaking for air, he gasped, reminding both Nandor and himself, “B-Breathe, I-I need to breathe.”

Smiling apologetically, Nandor’s giant hand cupped his cheek, gaze boring into him.

“I know I’m not your boss anymore, Guillermo. But I would still like it very much if…if you kept your post as my heartguard.”

Now he was breathless for a whole different reason.

Beaming, his eyes stinging again, he brought his hand up and linked their fingers.

“Okay. Only if you’re mine too, though.”

“Deal.”

“Deal.”

Somewhere in the depths of the house, they heard Nadja let out a loud gag, followed quickly by, “Give it to him, good, Gizmo, and shut up already!”

Face on fire, he turned to him, leaning back in.

They still had a million and one things to talk about and work through. Obviously. Issues like theirs—problematic or otherwise—didn’t disappear with one, two, or even three admittedly fantastic kisses. But for now, their roommates had a point.

“Fucking vampires,” Guillermo chuckled.

“No,” Nandor replied with a sharp grin. “There’s just one vampire to fuck. Me."

Groaning at the dumb pun, Guillermo allowed himself to be kissed deeply and thoroughly, winding his hand into the silky, dark hair he adored and tugging.

It was as Nandor let out a quiet mewl (that he was definitely filing away for later) that he remembered the cameras. And the other people in the room. And his date.

“Wait, sorry,” he broke the kiss, his mouth already raw from beard burn and loving it before he turned to the crew.

“Can we have some privacy, guys? Please? And here, take my phone and text my date that I’m sorry I won’t make it, but he seems like a good guy, and I hope he meets someone else.”

He watched as the crewmember closest to him just barely caught his phone while the rest of the team just gaped at them, frozen in place, until a dark shadow cast over the room.

“He asked nicely,” Nandor said, his voice an octave lower than usual. “Do not make me ask not nicely.”

Not needing to be told twice, the crew scrambled to vacate the room, lugging their cameras and equipment behind them as Nandor reeled Guillermo back in, pushing him gently against the wall and cradling his head.

“Out, out!” he shooed over his shoulder, kissing along his jugular, his sharp fangs lightly scraping his skin and making him shiver. “We are a documentary, not a fucking porno!”

“No, save that for the honeymoon, old chap,” Laszlo’s muffled voice wafted from above. “And, if you need any pointers, let me know!”

[frostgears]

We Who Are Far From Home, ch. 7: Bree 5

Hair loose, wearing nothing but a blouse, Bree bounced up and down on her toes, recalibrating herself, feeling the way this body moved. She was far more Coda's work now than Nost's or her own. But Coda's work was always good. Light. Fast. Really absurd quality for domestic automatons, if not quite up to the standards of a mage who made of herself a war machine.

She thought that it wasn't Lyric's body that stopped it from being the divine hero of the Kingdom. Not that she could really blame it. It found another role and fit perfectly into it and she couldn't tell herself now that she wasn't the right doll for the job after all…

Focus, Bree. Collect those thoughts and line them up, biggest to smallest. Goal: protect the Kingdom. Strategic objective: head off the next war. Tactical objective: deny the Crimson Fist their kill. Cover story: doll maid. Next step: put on the damn dress.

She held it up, loosened the ties, pulled the thing over her head. Felt weird. She checked the mirror. It was the wrong way around and now her blouse was bunched up. She pulled it off again, smoothed the blouse, rotated the dress, shrugged herself back into it, froze.

"Are you done in there?" Zai shouted through the dressing room's door. "I need a uniform too!"

"I'm. Uh." She shouldn't have looked in the mirror. That had been a mistake. The dress, even the body, they could have been a costume, but now they were her. First look: a slim brunette, not that different from the body she was born in, but terminally mousy and wan. Second look: she refocused, saw hard angles and precise curves and ball joints, but not the ball joints she was used to—

"Not waiting any longer." Zai barged in. The spy rustled through the small closet next to the mirror, pulled a warm brown and decorously ruffled dress the near-twin of Bree's, hung it on a hook as she began hunting for undergarments. "Something wrong?"

"Everything," Bree said, miserably.

"No. Be specific."

"I can't! It's my whole damn me!"

"Doesn't matter. Job to do. Look the part, worry about the rest on your own time." She flicked calm dark eyes over Bree, sniffed. "Also, you forgot your corset, and your petti, and," she gestured to the cabinet full of various compact metal horrors on the other side of the mirror, "about half of what you need for the real job."

Zai undid the neck-string of her nightdress and dropped it to her feet with a shrug. She dismissed her boxers with a tug of thumb over hip and let those fall to the floor on top of the nightdress, then kicked the whole pile into a laundry bin with an apparently practiced foot.

"Take all that off. Get dressed with me, do exactly what I do, and then at least blending won't be a problem."

Bree kept staring at herself, but it was a small room, with a large mirror.

Zai took it otherwise, smirking. "Nothing you haven't seen before, lady-killer. Come on. Fresh panties. Catch," she said, tossing Bree a pair from an open drawer.

Bree boggled from the sheer absurdity of it. "I don't need panties, Zai. I don't piss, I don't sweat, I don't have a period, I don't even get wet unless my Owner…" — and that was a thing that surfaced unpleasantly like a shark in a hot spring; when did she start thinking that word with a capital O — "…presses a button for it."

Zai glared. "Aren't we fancy. Put your damn panties on, because Lady Emmerline's maidservants don't go around not wearing underwear, dolls or not."

"Fine!" She pulled them on.

"Good. Stay with me. Stockings. Thigh holsters, both sides, left side steel, right side alkalium, three blades each, well clear of the stockings and don't forget which metal's where. Slip. Braided cable whip. Wear that looped around your waist, you'll pull the petti up under it, dress has a buttoned flap in each hip pocket for when you need to pull it out…"

Bree dutifully followed Zai's directions, putting each undergarment and each weapon on as Zai did the same.

"Corset. Actually, first, here, help me with mine. Just pull this a little tighter and tie it off. Okay, good, tight enough. Petticoat. Hand me that back scabbard, and one of those short swords. And the tube next to it."

"What's that?"

"Blowgun. Not every problem is nice enough to happen inside throwing knife range, and there's no way I could fit an actual bow in this and still be able to bend. No point you taking one, though, you barely have lungs." Zai checked herself approvingly in the mirror, white foundation garments strapped over with dark leather and metal, then over at Bree. "Want a slingshot or something?"

"Oh! No. I mean yes. I mean, I have one already. Spring-driven pellet-thrower. Nost put it in yesterday when she added the seals." Bree tapped the port cover in her left palm. "It's no tethered-harpoon cannon, but it's something."

"You still have the soulcatcher too," Zai pointed out.

"Yeah, without the mycelial conduits or the mana furnace that made it work halfway usefully in my usual body. It's one shot and it won't work on anyone healthy."

"It's one shot that they won't expect," the spy said, as if dealing with a particularly dim student. She started wriggling into the uniform dress, pausing a few times to make sure her personal arsenal didn't snag. "Use everything you can get. What's left in the cabinet?"

Bree prodded a heavy waxed twill bag on the bottom shelf. "Just the showstopper dust."

"Give me two of the small bags. I don't have your arm strength. You take the big ones."

"Where am I meant to put these?" Bree said, her un-tweaked voice box completely failing to convey any of the frustration she felt. Had her old body really been this small and weaponless? How had she gotten anything done?

She looked at herself in the mirror. Slim brunette, mousy and wan. Dress fit, at least, now that she had it on properly. Easy to move in. Easy to perform her household duties — what household, Bree, you're here to stop an assassination — cooking, cleaning, serving drinks and snacks to her Owner and her Owner's guests, perhaps learning to sew from Zai in her downtime. Zai had made both sets of uniforms; she was quite the seamstress, a talented role model…

Bree. Bree what the fuck. You're not really a maid any more than Zai is. That's just the bindings talking.

An idea. Bree unbuttoned the top two buttons of her crisp white blouse and reached inside. "Zai," she asked, "opinions?"

"Hm. If you can pop those buttons quickly, should be fine. Turn sideways," Zai said thoughtfully, then, "Tighten the corset, you're sagging. Wait, faster if I do it." The spy's hands worked deftly behind Bree's back. "Better."

Bree faced the mirror again. Slim brunette, mousy and wan, dress fitted very closely over a carefully concealed set of weapons capped off by what had to be a good four or five kilos of carefully packaged showstopper dust padding out her corset.

"Yes," she whispered. "Better."

"Your usual body doesn't have those," her fellow "maid" pointed out. "More like the one before this one?"

"Nah, never really had much to work with there. I think… it's just that I can change something. Back in the Academy, new hair color every month, new piercing every year, little optical glamors going more often than not. But just now, hells, I was starting to think that all this was just my Owner's body. The service compulsions had me pretty hard."

Zai's face flickered with surprise, confusion, disgust.

"Is this going to be a problem, Bree?"

"Maybe. I don't know."

"You beat them before."

"Yeah."

"You built the compulsions."

"I built part of them. Joint effort, me and Coda."

"You took orders pretty well, just now."

"Yes. That helped. A lot. Thank you. I feel like I'll be okay getting dressed and gearing up tomorrow morning, it's just, the mirror was a surprise–"

"An order for you, then," Zai said, voice hard. "You think you can't do this, any time, you tell me, we scrub, we get out. You are the strongest of us, even in that body. We need you thinking like you. I am not," she added, "losing the irreplaceable Bree the Blessed, Savior of the Summer Capital, Hero of the Arbor Pass, Secret Shield of the Kingdom, to some back-alley doll sorcery gone wrong because we tried to pull an undercover job and she went weird on me. We can leave. Tell me and we will. That's an order."

"Yes, Zai, I will tell you," she blurted, instantly, and knew that she would.

A bell tingled outside the servants' quarters.

"Where are my lovely handmaidens, then?" Emmerline called, her voice booming and jovial.

The sheer Emmerline of the moment broke something's horrible hold on her. "She's going to be absolutely insufferable with that thing for the entire time we're here," Bree said.

"That's the most normal sentence I've heard you say all morning," Zai muttered. "And there are how many like you? Wish the Service had kept an eye on this Coda."

---

prev: We Who Are Far From Home, ch. 6: Bree 4

next: when it's done

[rowavolo]

"Sorry, I have a boyfriend." "I am your boyfriend, idiot." (A silly RowItto drabble)

hehe i finally felt like writing a little silly something simply because i love Itto, he's so silly. Please be niceys to me im insecure about posting my self insert stuff <3

Content includes mentions of alcohol and Itto being a little too drunk, but in like a silly way.

"Come on, big guy." Rowan tugged his boyfriend's arm gently, trying to lead him away from the tavern table they'd been sitting at all evening. The smooth wood was littered with empty glasses and little bowls once full of snacks. The Angel's Share was about to close for the evening, and Rowan had been ready to go home for several hours now.

"Wait, wait, hang on." Itto stumbled momentarily, causing Rowan to brace himself in case the large oni were to crumple to the floor (as if he could stop Itto from taking him down as well). "I can't go home with you." Itto's voice lilted awkwardly.

Rowan sighed inwardly, pinching the bridge of his nose between his forefinger and thumb as his ruffled tail twitched back and forth underneath his cloak. "Why not?" He tried to keep his tone even and passive, but it was somewhat difficult when Itto had been so scatterbrained for the past few hours.

"You're pretty." Itto drawled, punctuating the statement with a long, low groan that garnered them a few strange looks from the few patrons who had yet to vacate the bar for the night. "And small. And a little bit squishy."

Rowan leaned back and bared fanged teeth for a moment as Itto roughly pinched his freckled cheek, displacing his wire-rimmed glasses. "...Thank you?" Rowan scrunched his face up and gently swiped Itto's hand away from him. "But that doesn't tell me why-"

"But I already have a pretty-small-squishy-cute boyfriend. I don't wanna go home with anyone else." Itto pouted.

Rowan let out a soft chuckle and shook his head. "Itto, come on, quit messing around. Let's get home, alright?" He gave the oni's burly arm another tug, trying to guide him towards the door once again.

"Hey, hey! Hands off, little guy! I'm not goin' home with you! I'm super duper flattered and all, but my boyfriend's gonna be back real soon, we're gonna walk home together!"

"I am your boyfriend, Itto." Rowan furrowed his brow and dug his nails into his partner's warm skin.

"Nuh-uh." Itto pointedly tugged his arm away from the boy and crossed his arms, puffing his chest out and looking away with a pointed 'hmph'

"Dude. You're insane. Come on, or I'm gonna leave without you." Rowan stomped one foot, ears flattened against his head beneath his oversized hat. "Then Diluc is gonna throw you in Cider Lake. Again. Do you want that?"

"Yes." Itto announced, as if that's what he'd wanted all along. "I'm waiting to leave with my boyfriend. And you are not my boyfriend. I'd rather get dumped in the lake than betray my boy that way!"

"Are too." Rowan insisted petulantly, bouncing up and down on his tiptoes as he struggled to wrap his head around this elaborate 'bit' his boyfriend was pulling today.

"Are not!" Itto retorted, with an equal amount of petty childishness in his tone.

"Are too!" Rowan squared himself up and faced up to the oni, though it seemed as if he didn't even notice, since Rowan barely reached his chest at his full height.

"No!" Itto blew a raspberry. "My boyfriend is a little kitty-cat guy." He held up his hands to mimic a set of animal ears on top of his head, and wriggled his behind to simulate a tail. "He's small and red and I love him very much, but he's very shy, and if he comes back and you're standing here talking away to me, he's probably gonna go hide! Now shoo!" He explained himself with a slow, deliberate tone.

Rowan tilted his head to the side as he processed this newfound information, then finally realised what must have happened, and why Itto was acting the way he was. "Itto." He said slowly. "My light. My love." He struggled not to burst into laughter. "There is nary a thought at the base of those pretty horns."

Itto looked vaguely confused for a few moments as he tried to decipher what the boy was telling him. "Huh?" He brushed his fingers over his left horn

Rowan shook his head and pulled his hat off to free his ears, then hiked up his cloak to reveal his tail, which waved back and forth in amusement.

"Oh man, Rowan!" Itto exclaimed, his whole face brightening. "There you are! I thought you were never coming back!" Without hesitation, he scooped Rowan up and gave him a bone-crushing hug.

"I didn't go anywhere, you doofus." Rowan leaned away from Itto, wrapping a shaky hand around one of his horns as he tried to lean in and rub his stubbly face up against Rowan's.

"You would not believe the audacity of this guy I just met." Itto adjusted Rowan in his arms as easily as if he were nothing but a sack of flour. "He would not take no for an answer, it was crazy!"

"Itto..." Rowan sighed and shook his head slowly. "I know, right?" Itto hefted Rowan into a bridal-style position. "But I told him, I have the cutest, prettiest, squishiest boyfriend in all of Teyvat, and I wasn't having any of his sneaky charms!"

Rowan couldn't help but giggle at Itto's chicanery. "Yeah. Right."

"C'mon, don't say it like that. You're the only one for me, babe." Itto announced, loudly enough for the dwindling handful of people in the tavern to hear clearly. He pressed a few scattered kisses against Rowan's face and head. "Now let's get out of here, before mister pushy comes back."

Please don't repost, steal, copy or otherwise plagiarise my writing! This includes posting translations to other sites and using it to teach bots!

[hypnotisedfireflies]

omg could we get some more of joel and sarah? i loved the little prompt story😭

Thank you, anon! Here's another one I hope you enjoy, based off another of @poetic-justicesong 's prompt ideas:

1991

With a grunt, Joel laid the last bundle of slats on the bedroom floor. He surveyed all the pieces and nodded to himself, feeling pretty good. This made sense to him. This piece would fit with that, and those bolts would screw in with not a lick of trouble. It was a good feeling to have something go easy for a change.

“Well, let's get it done,” Joel said aloud. 

“Get it done,” Sarah repeated.

His three year old daughter stood by his side. She crouched down and laid her hands on the bed frame, shaking it back and forth.

Joel got down beside his little helper and opened his toolbox. Sarah pursed her lips and leaned over to look.

“Well, go on,” Joel nodded to her own.

Luis had given Sarah the plastic toolbox a few months ago. It was stocked full of plastic toys just the right size for her little hands. There was a hammer, a wrench, a ruler, a screwdriver and a drill. There'd also been some pliers, but they were lost somewhere in the backyard.

“You know what? I am so glad you're here, baby girl. You really know what you're doin’, huh?”

Sarah chewed on the end of the ruler.

“Okay, okay. I need you to drill this one in for me.  Sarah.” He patted her knee. “Baby.”

Sarah held up her drill. “Make the noise!”

“Put it in the spot!”

She positioned the drill and Joel began a high pitched drone, imitating the whirl of a drill. Sarah giggled uncontrollably and copied the sound.

“And that's good! Great job!”

“Good job, Daddy!”

“Yeah, team! Give me five!”

Sarah lost interest soon after that. His helper bounced on her new mattress for awhile and then made up a new game with the plastic wrench and hammer. 

xxxx

Joel had had the talk with Sarah, gradually preparing her for the new bed and the exciting adventure of sleeping alone. Sarah was kind of ambivalent about it, which led Joel to think that she didn't really understand what was coming at all.

So they had spaghetti and a bath. Uncle Tommy called - that was rare enough to be exciting for them both. Joel wasn't sure where Tommy even was and his brother couldn't say, but he thought maybe Kuwait given what few clues he could piece together. Sarah was getting better at talking on the phone.

“She even know it's me?” Tommy asked.

“Of course she does,” Joel replied, picking up his beer and putting it down again when he realised how warm it had gotten. “Her face all lights up.”

“I wish I could see it.”

“We're tryin’ out her new bed tonight. We put it together this afternoon.”

“Oh, great,” Tommy's grin echoed down the line. “Finally get a girl your own damn age back in your - oh, shoot. Look, I gotta go.”

“Tommy.”

“Yeah? You'd better be fast.”

“Be careful.”

Joel made up Sarah's bed with the new quilt cover set he'd gotten at 30 percent off. It was the ocean at one end and the beach at the other, decorated with fish and crabs and dolphins and gulls. He picked Sarah up and put her in the bed. He thought it was such a little thing but it seemed enormous with her inside, sitting up with those sleepy eyes and her arms around Hoppy, her plush wallaby.

They chose a story - the same one they'd read every night this week, she didn't want anything else - and Joel opened up to the first page.

“Now, don't forget, this is your bed, now. When we finish the book, I'm gonna go to my bed, and you'll sleep the night away in yours. You're gonna stay here with Hoppy. Okay?”

“Kay.” She reached for the book, bending the pages as she tried to start the story.

“You are not followin’,” he muttered ruefully. He cleared his throat and got started.

Sarah fell asleep somewhere in the middle, like she always did. Joel paid a lot more attention to silencing his movements as he closed the book and stood, smoothing the covers down. He kissed her forehead, and then Hoppy’s, because she always insisted he not be left out.

He checked the safety gate at the top of the stairs and brushed his teeth. He thought about Tommy, who was maybe in Kuwait, and when he might be home again. It was impressive how much Joel knew about the war when he was so good at dodging the news. He didn't want to see those places, didn't want to catch sight of American troops in their tactical gear and goggles, wondering if Tommy was one of them.

Joel felt like he'd only just dropped off to sleep when he heard Sarah call out from the other room. He cranked his eyes open, paused. Listened. The plainative little cry came again, and then confused tears.

He pulled himself up with a grunt. “Yeah! On my way! I'm on my way…”

He trudged into Sarah's new room.  She was half crouched on bed like she was scared to get down on the floor, and her hand was clutching the rail. Her face was soggy with tears - he'd slept through the start, he realised. His stomach swooped. How long had she been crying?

“Oh come on, come here,” he mumbled, gathering her up and carrying her back to his room.  She sniffled into his neck.  “That's enough for one night, huh? Try again tomorrow?”

“No!”

“We'll talk about it tomorrow,” he sighed, depositing her into the warm spot in his own bed. Sarah started off the night tucked up under his arm, but was spread out like a little starfish in no time, sound asleep.

[wonderstruks]

I think we got some chemistry between us

Gareth x gn! Reader

Warnings: cursing, being friend zoned, a menstruation mention

Summary: The only person you wanted to ask you to homecoming didn't and when your on the committee a certain someone comes and sweeps you to the dance floor

● I DO NOT GIVE ANY PERMISSION FOR MY WORK TO BY COPIED ONTO OTHER SITES

The halls were buzzing with mindless chatter about the upcoming dance.

Girls fussed about what to wear and which boy would ask them, and boys discussed which chick would be worth their time.

Boys at Hawkins High were like dogs, they only had one thing on their mind.

All of them disgusted me except for the select few.

“(Y/n)!” I heard a yell and turned around.

It was Dustin, he greeted me with a geniue toothy grin.

“Hey, I wanted to ask you something?”

“Yeah?”

“Will you please sign up with me for the dance committee?”

I laughed.

“Why would I do that?”

“Because I got in trouble, and now I have to do it and I would rather not spend my whole night lonely!” He whined.

I shook my head.

“Let me think about it okay, Dusty.”

“Okay, but please (y/n)!”

The bell rang, and I turned on my heel, walking to my next class.

“See ya at lunch!”

Ugh, of course my next class had to be chemistry and of course I had to share it with Gareth.

He was a year older than me.

He flunked last year, and now he's redoing it.

Now him being In the class isn't what is the bad thing, it's my massive, enormous crush on him.

It's like when he's around, I can't contain myself.

I'm awkward and blushy, and I can't even pay attention to anything but him, and it's all his fault.

But the worst part is that I always make a fool of myself because we're friends.

Stupid fucking friends.

I didn't want to just be his friend, I wanted to be his everything.

Though he didn't see me like that, at least, I think.

It's hard to tell with Gareth.

One minute he'll call me a pet name and then go back to calling me dude.

I wasn't a “dude��� though.

I was just hopelessly in love with him.

“Hey (y/n)! What's up dude?”

I felt myself cringe internally.

“Hey Gareth.”

“You ready for the torture of today's class?”

I giggled softly.

“It's not that bad.”

“You sure, sweetheart because I literally have no idea what has been going on for the past month.”

I took my seat and Gareth sat right beside me.

“Okay then if you don't know anything how are you even passing?”

“Cheating off of you, of course.”

I playfully scoffed and hit his arm, he laughed in response.

God, he was so gorgeous when he laughed.

His dimples poked out and his smile glistened.

He truly looked like a Greek God, so beautiful that even the heavens cried for him.

“Good morning class, find your seats! Today, we will be continuing-.”

I could even listen to the teacher drone on.

Instead, my mind decided to occupy itself with more important things, like watching Gareth's hands flex and noticing the way his veins curve.

“Hello, earth to (y/n)?”

“Huh?” I said, snapping out of my thoughts.

“Your lab or mine, sweetie?”

“Huh?” I felt myself starting to blush.

“We're doing a partner project.”

“Oh.” I nervously laughed.

“You weren't paying attention, were you?”

“Not a bit.”

He laughed and shook his head, his curls bouncing.

“Well that's just great, it's your fault if we cause an explosion, dude.”

I smiled.

“I'll blame it on you.”

Despite not paying attention for that class period, it went smooth sailing and me and Gareth actually managed successfully to complete the project.

I spent my next classes thinking about him.

I wanted him to so badly ask me to the dance, I could only imagine him dressed up all nice wearing a freaking bow tie.

He'd hold me while we danced, and he'd even kiss me.

It would be the perfect night.

There was no other guy for me but him.

Ever since I've met him, it's always been Gareth.

When the bell rang signaling lunch, my stomach spinned in circles, knowing I was going to see the boy who plagued my mind.

Already feeling nauseous, I chose to skip out on food and took my usual right beside Gareth.

My heart raced and my palms shook.

The things this boy did to me.

“Ah (y/n) have you thought about it yet?” Dustin asked, sitting across from me.

“Thought about what, Dustin?” Eddie questioned.

“I want (y/n)'s help on the homecoming committee, but they won't give me an answer!”

“Maybe I want to go, Dustin?” I interjected, my heart racing as Gareth turned his attention to me.

“You actually want to go to one of those?” Eddie busted out laughing and all the boys joined in.

“What's so bad about it?”

“What's so bad? What's so bad! Those 'parties' are just a popularity contest meant for total posers.”

Gareth jumped in and agreed with him.

“Absolutely everyone who goes to those things are assholes who peak in high school.”

My heart felt like it shattered.

I should've thought about this logically, there was no way Gareth would ever ask me to something like this.

Feeling defeated and humiliated, I stood up.

“Dustin, I'll help you.”

The boy smiled, and I wished I could share his enjoyment, but I couldn't.

I felt like an absolute fool.

________

The next day chemistry came and I dreaded it.

I couldn't face Gareth, especially after yesterday.

Just looking at him made me angry.

Why did he have to agree with Eddie?

God, I felt so dumb forever dreaming about going to a dance with him.

I sat at my lab, my head my laid in my folded arms.

“Hey dude, what's up!”

Dude!

I could not do this right now!

“Leave me alone, Gareth.” I spat out bitterly.

“Whoa harsh, is it that time of the month?” He joked lightly punching my shoulder.

I sat up and gave him a death glare.

“Sorry just joking.” He said realizing his mistake.

“You know what Gareth, not everything is a joke.” I spit out bitterly.

“What?” He was confused.

“Just leave me alone.” I grabbed my things and moved to a different seat, leaving him shocked.

Once class was over I raced to my next class, ignoring Gareth trying to talk to me.

When the lunch bell rang I simply just skipped it, hiding out in the library away from all the boys.

I realized how immature I was being, but I really couldn't do this.

I couldn't pretend everything was okay when my feelings were more than hurt.

Once school was over, I was making my way outside when I felt a hand grab me.

It was Gareth.

“Finally! We need to talk.”

I didn't respond, I just stared at him coldly.

“Dude if this is about this morning I'm so sor-”

“It's not about this morning!”

“Then what!”

“Are you really that clueless?”

“Hey!”

There was no going back now.

“I thought I was so obvious with my feelings. Maybe this asshole poser really wanted you to ask them to the dance.”

I shrugged his grip off and walked away.

Leaving him shocked once more.

_________

The night of the dance felt so bittersweet.

I wanted to be here, but just in different circumstances.

I would rather not be sitting here worrying over the ice melting for the refreshments.

Although I agreed to do this with Dustin, I hadn't seen him in a while making me think he ditched me.

I stood there sadly, jealous of all the couples dancing in front of me.

“Damn, that ice seems like it's melting.”

I turned to see Gareth.

He was all dressed up, just how I imagined it.

“Gareth?”

“Hey.” He smiled.

“What are you doing here?”

He grabbed my hand.

“Making it up to you.”

He pulled me on the dance floor.

It all felt so cheesy, as soon we got there a slow song started to play.

Gareth grabbed my waist and pulled me close, swaying us to the beat.

It all felt too perfect.

“I'm confused Gareth, why?”

“Because you're right I'm dumb, I've liked you for so long, and yet, I call you dude, I say whatever just to look cool like Eddie but this whole time I should've seen it, I should have seen you liked me, the real me. I know I fucked up (y/n) but if you'd have me, I will make it right this time.”

I smiled and pulled him in for a kiss.

He smiled into it and pulled me closer.

His lips fit perfectly with mine, they melted into each other.

I pulled away and looked in his eyes.

“You know Gare I think we got some real chemistry between us.”

“And I thought I was the one who had the good science puns.”

[softquietsteadylove]

Would you write something where Thena is terrified of something. So afraid that she crawls away and cries. Maybe she had some kind of hallucination that can be associated with Mahd Wy'ry. Gil tries to calm her down.

Thena turned down another of the Domo's many winding halls. She was trying to walk the restlessness from her body. It was a routine she was well familiar with--walking in hopes of finding sleep. She just had too much on her mind.

"Thena."

She froze, refusing to turn.

"You poor thing."

She would not look at it. She would not.

"You're broken, Thena."

She clamped her throat closed, although her hands started to shake. She scolded herself; she was the Warrior Eternal. She would not be intimidated by some spectre.

"Damaged," the ghostly voice whispered to her, "useless."

"No," she mumbled, defending herself against an enemy that wasn't even there. Her shoulders trembled.

"No?" That deep timbre that shook her head and rattled her nervous system--it echoed around her, just like in that cave. "You're not?"

"No," she whispered, her feet rooted to the spot.

The whispers of her enemy bounced off the corners and glided over the smooth metal walls around her. "Is that what Gilgamesh would think?"

Her throat was dry, like when they first landed in Australia. "No, he-"

"How would you know?"

She blinked; a silhouette at the end of the hall took a step toward her. Fear flooded her body, experienced so seldom it was unfamiliar to her.

"You got him killed," the silhouette tilted its head at her, its hands changing shape in front of her eyes, "after all."

"No," she stumbled back, just one step at first, then two. "I-I didn't."

"You didn't?" that monster taunted her, raising its fist with a gentle, golden glow to it. "You didn't...stand there?"

"No," she whispered again, her voice high and tight with the tears coming to her eyes. She stumbled and fell back. "Please."

"You didn't watch?" Her hunter continued, no pity for the poor creature on the ground, dragging itself away. "As I lifted him off the ground, drained him of his powers?"

"Gil," Thena choked out as she felt her palms on the cold of the Domo floor. She wasn't in the Amazon, she wasn't in danger. This was all in her head.

"You got your poor Gilgamesh killed, Thena." That monster was right behind her--always. When she tried to sleep, whenever she was alone with her thoughts. This thing would come and sing its cruel song to her. "Protecting a Warrior who can't even fight."

"Gil," she snivelled again, repeating his name as the only thing that could help her cling to sanity. Her sweet Gilgamesh, the man with whom she had built an entire life--lifetimes upon lifetimes, together.

"Gil is dead, Thena," the beast asserted, slapping its claw on the floor at her feet. The sound of it rattled her brain. "And it's because of you!"

"No," she repeated, shaking her head. Her brain felt like it was on fire. "No, I-"

"Thena."

That voice--this was the voice she hated to hear the most in times like these. Because it was perfect. It was perfect, and sweet, but it was wrong.

"Thena," Gilgamesh's voice called from behind her, "look at me."

She shook her head, resuming her pain fraught journey back to safety. She couldn't look at him; it was only going to horrify her.

"Thena," his voice repeated more harshly. He would never speak to her like that. "Thena, look at what you did!"

"No," she whimpered, coming to a stop outside the room where his body - his silent, sleeping body - lay. She didn't drag herself inside. She didn't want the sanctity of his actual sleeping form to mix with the ugliness her mind could conjure.

"This is your fault!"

Thena curled up in a ball, holding her arms around her head like a child. She couldn't remember ever being a child, but perhaps it was something like this. She shook her head.

"Look at me!" the monster roared at her, using Gilgamesh's voice.

She knew that if she looked at it, it would present her with Gilgamesh's dead visage. Sometimes it made his corpse look truly desecrated, just to really scare her. It would spew hateful words, make her see things she yearned to forget.

"Why, Thena? Didn't I care for you?" the ghost pleaded with her. "Why did you let me die like that?!"

Thena shook her head again, holding herself through the barrage of taunts the way she would a windstorm back home. She shook. "He would never..."

"Thena!" it bellowed, slamming the wall on either side of her head. The sound of it seemed so real--real enough to send crackles down her spine.

She squeezed her eyes shut, "Gilgamesh would never say that."

No, he wouldn't. It was just her own mind saying these things. It was her own guilt showing her this monster, and these sights that never happened. It was just herself saying these terribly cruel things.

"He'd never," she repeated to herself, curled up as her only defense against the spectre of her own making. "Gilgamesh is kind."

"He's dead!"

"He's sweet," she whispered to herself, hoping that her own voice would sound more real than the wailing and slamming of the ghost she had conjured. "He would never."

"What wouldn't I?"

Thena lifted her head, seeing no ghost in front of her. She tilted her head further up, blinking. "Gil?"

He looked down at her, leaning against the doorway slightly.

She stood slowly, tilting her head at him. She raised her hand, and instead of passing through him, her fingers met the familiar warmth of his chest. "It's you."

He didn't question it, didn't ask what she had been crying about. He held her hand in his, "it's me."

She leaned forward, pushing her face into his chest and inhaling. He smelled like Australia--like home. Or maybe it was the other way around; maybe Australia smelled like home because of him.

Gil simply held her, rubbing her back and whispering sweet nothings into her hair.

She urged him back towards the bed, "you shouldn't be up."

He grunted as she helped lower him back down. "I've been asleep for weeks, haven't I?"

"Not that long," she chided him, although it had to be said that she was indulging him, based on the smile on her face. "You're still healing."

He snatched her hand before she could pull it all the way back. He unfurled her fingers and pressed her palm to his heart, "I'm here, though."

She let the beat of his heart ripple through her skin and settle into her brain. This was his heart, alive and beating. Gilgamesh was alive, no matter what that ghost had to say about it. "You're here."

"Right here," he repeated, staring up at her. "Y'know, there's room in here for two."

She laughed, and Gilgamesh's face released all its tension. "I have a ship to command, I'll have you know. And saying there's room for two in these beds might be generous."

Gil let out a loud sigh as she parted with him, leaving his hand on his chest, "I seem to recall we made it work, back in the day."

Thena lingered by the door, casting her shadow over him. "I seem to recall that even with me on top of you, it was a tight squeeze."

He grinned at her, "good thing I like squeezing you, then."

She laughed again, and the cold of the hallway got a little warmer on her back. "Rest, Gilgamesh."

He tilted his head on the pillow. He was still weak, resting after his near brush with death. But his eyes were soft, "g'night, hon. I'll see you when I wake up?"

She nodded, automatically pursing her lips to kiss him in reflex to what he would say every night in their bed back home. "See you then."

[nessieart]

TEETH pt. 18

WC: 2.7k

Summary: While the boss is away, the cats- or dogs- will play.

Materlist

Previous || Next

---*

"One step at a time," Bucky repeats, a faint smile pulling at his lips.

You give Steve a call, the line ringing a few times before it's picked up

"Captain America's phone, his handsome, single best friend speaking!"  There's a shuffle and a few grunts. A big booming laugh fills your ears before he continues, "Who may I ask is callin'?"

You grin, "Hi, Sammy," you laugh when there's an audible protest in the background.

"No way! Baby girl, we were just talking about you. Weren't we Steve? –Hey!  Man, you better put that down–" he's further away from the speaker now, more ruffled noises coming through.  "C'mon, man, I'm still workin’ on that -hey no- wait- ok fine! -here!"

There's more shuffling, a throat clearing, and then, "Hi Flowers," Steve's a little breathless, "What uh- how are you?" 

You see Bucky roll his eyes, and you bump his shoulder lightly.

Smooth, old man. Comes from the background.

"Fine, though I should be asking you that.  Are you still in the hospital?"

"No, no.  I got discharged a few days ago.  Not a scratch on me.  Right as rain."

It's freaky, man! You hear Sam yell in the background again.

You smile at their dynamic, glad Steve found a friend in Sam.

"Well, that's good to hear," you say, "listen, um- well- the reason I'm calling is because," you look at Bucky, and he looks back at you.  He gives you a small nod.

"Have you- man, this is tougher than I thought.  I found Bucky," you just blurt out and say.  Tired of trying to find a casual way to tell Steve. There's a sharp intake of breath, both from Steve and Bucky. 

"Wh-what- what do you mean?" 

"He's here, with me.  At the Tower."

-*-

You could smell the anxiety rolling off of Bucky. He’s been pacing around the floor since you hung up with Steve, and that was an hour ago.  Steve said he’d be at the Tower as soon as he could, but you convinced him to wait until morning, gaining support from Sammy, too.  So Steve relented and said he would drive up to New York first thing in the morning.

And you’ve told Bucky this, but he can’t seem to sit still for more than a minute.  His hair's a little wild from his hands raking through it, and his metal arm hasn’t stopped whirring in protest.  You’re starting to get a little worried it’ll jam or something.  By the umpteenth time around the living room, you stand up and stop him in his tracks.

“You need to relax, James, your anxiety and stress is leaking out and into me and it's making me itchy,” your skin ripples and you shake it off like a chill up your spine.  “The full moon is soon, and I need to run.  Come with me.  It’ll get you out of the Tower for at least a few hours,” you tug on his arm that is lifted to go through his hair again.

Bucky mumbles an 'I don't know, Petal.' And heaves a heavy sigh.

You give him big pleading eyes, "c'mon, old man, run with me," elongating the vowels in each word to emphasize your plea. "It'll take your mind off of it." 

Bucky scoffs, "Who are you callin' old, darlin'?" His old Brooklyn accent shines through, and you beam up at him, bouncing on the balls of your feet. "Fine," he gives an exasperated sigh.

You squeal in excitement, and as you run towards the elevator, you Shift, clothes falling to the floor in a pile, and hopping in circles until Bucky hits the call button.

-*-

It's the 4th time around Central Park, and neither you nor Bucky are tired or out of breath.  The sun has started to color the horizon but hasn't peaked above the highrises yet.

Your tongue lolls out to the side of your mouth as you keep pace with Bucky. He hasn't talked much since you left the Tower.  You pick up pace a little, glancing at Bucky so he notices, his eyebrow raises.

You bark and break out into a sprint, paws barely grazing the cement as you take off. Bucky isn't far behind. He may be just as fast as you and just as quiet. After decades of practice, he's light on his feet and deadly fast.  There's a smirk on his face when you peer up at him, and you bark again. A small chuckle leaves him as he passes you.

He stops after a mile, and you're out of breath finally.  He lounges on a bench, arms spread wide across the top, chest heaving only slightly. You plop down at his feet with a heavy thud. One of his legs stretches out, and over your back, you assume to keep you close, make sure you're still there.

Bucky, and you relax for a while, taking in the early Saturday morning. The sun is peeking through the gaps in buildings as people mull around Central Park.  

Your head perks up when you hear the jingle of dog tags on a collar.  There's a woman walking her dog towards you, and your tail wags.  You love dogs, though some don't like you, maybe they smell the Shifter in you.  The woman eyes you warily, her hand clutches the leash a little tighter and pulls her dog to the other side of the walkway. 

"You should put your dog on a leash, you know," she says, stopping a few feet away from you and Bucky.  The French Bulldog the woman keeps trying to shove behind her is very interested in you. Your ears go up, and your tail wags a little more. "Especially something that," she waves her hand around at you, "large."

Bucky looks down at you, and you look up at him. He shrugs, "She's very well behaved." Is all he says, goes back to scanning the Park.

You hear the woman scoff, "Well, anything could happen.  And it would be your fault."  When Bucky ignores her, she storms off, pulling her dog behind her more roughly.

"Maybe you should bite her," you can hear the smirk in his voice.  And when you look up at him, there's a sparkle in his eye you haven't seen before. 

You think this is the Bucky Steve told you about.  Carefree and mischievous.  He's looking out across the park, and he looks content.  You're glad his mind is off HYDRA, the Winter Soldier, his past.  At least for the time being.  He deserves the quiet. The peace. A chance to catch his breath and just be.

-*-

You're both almost back to the Tower when Bucky stops walking.  The people behind him make comments of protest and annoyance, but he pays them no mind.  You sit at his feet and tilt your head, big ears flopping to the side as you do.  Your head reaches his waist, and he brings a hand to lay on top of your head.

"I don't think I can do this," Bucky says quietly. But you hear him.  "What if -" he shakes his head. "I know I'm not who I used to be.  What if I disappoint him?" His brows furrowed in worry, "what if I can't be who he wants me to be?" What if I can't remember, is what he means.

You want to tell him everything will be okay, but that's a hard promise to keep.  You don't know what it's like in his mind or how he's feeling all the time. You can sense he wants to run, hide away, and never see Steve or you; the people that care about him.

You let out a small whine as Bucky looks down at you, his brows crease further, the waterline of his eyes gathering tears.

"Everything they put in me is still there, Petal.  What if something happens and I-" he cuts himself off, takes a big heaving breath, and shakes his head.  Eyes blinking rapidly to push the tears away. "He's still in here," Bucky brings a hand to his head and grabs a fistful of hair, "sometimes I feel like he's waiting to come back out.  I couldn't forgive myself if I hurt you again." His hand runs from your snout up and over your ears, and then under your chin, tilting your head up to look at him more.

"Couldn't forgive myself if I hurt Steve again," he says quietly.  You whimpered in response, hating that he feels like this.  Hating that you've hated the Soldier for so long that maybe a small part of you thinks Bucky does deserve it.  

But you can't think like that.  The overwhelming hate you used to harbor for the masked assassin is in the past.  No matter how hard it was or is to separate Bucky and his murderous alter ego, you have to keep them separate. For his sake, and your own.

A heavy sigh leaves Bucky, his nostrils flaring with the effort.  He looks away from you and down the sidewalk ahead, and you follow his gaze.  The Tower isn't too far now, less than a block away.  You both could probably get a few hours to sleep in before Steve and Sam show up.

The prospect of napping makes your tail wag, and you tug Bucky's sleeve to get him moving again.  A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. 

“OK, ok, I'm coming,” Bucky lets out a soft chuckle as he lets you tug his sleeve in your mouth and pull him the rest of the way towards the Tower.

-*-

The elevator doors open with a soft chime, and you and Bucky exit onto the floor you share with Tony and Bruce.  You leap up onto the couch and bury yourself beneath the blankets.  Your head pops up, you've Shifted back, and give Bucky a big grin.

“That was quick,” he comments with a small smile.  He shuffles closer to the couch, hands in his pockets.

You let out a large yawn, “I usually nap after a night of running.  Want to nap? I'll change back,” you add quickly when he gives you a look.  You yawn again.  Your head goes back under the pile of blankets, and you Shift.  Your tail sticks out the other end, and you wag it.

You hear a soft chuckle and some shuffling, and Bucky is seated at the end of your blankets near your head.  You peak out from your cocoon and pull his arm in. His metal arm whirs as you do. 

There's a soft chime of the elevator doors not 10 minutes later, and you pop out of the blankets so fast Bucky hardly has time to react. 

Front paws on the arm of the couch and your body standing over Bucky and waiting for someone to emerge from the elevator. Tail wagging and hitting Bucky in the face.

“Petal, cmon,” he huffed, trying to shove you off the couch.  You growl at him.  “Get off'a me,” he protested, but made no move to actually kick you off him.

“You sure this is the right floor?” You could hear Sam ask.

“JARVIS said it was,” followed by Steve's voice.  Within the next minute, they turned the corner, and you were met with the duo face to face.  They stopped when they heard you bark. 

“Baby girl!” Sam threw his arms wide, and you lept from the couch and tackled him to the floor. He let out an oof as he landed on his backside, and his big laugh filled the space when you licked his face.  Sam ran his hands up your neck and to your cheeks and squished them together, your tongue poking out still. 

“What's with the fur, Baby girl?” Sam asked, running his hands through your fur.

“Full moon,” Steve says, nodding. You look up at him, tail wagging and tongue lolling out.  His hands are on his hips, a fond smile on his face as he looks down at you.  “Tomorrow, right?” You bark in response. 

There's a shuffle from behind you, and both Steve and Sam look over and notice Bucky for the first time.  You get off of Sam as he stands.  Steve lowers his hands from his hips, and when he takes a step forward you can hear Bucky's heart rate kick up, a sharp inhale of breath and the whirring of his metal arm, Bucky takes a step back when Steve goes to advance again.

You put yourself between Steve and Bucky, eyes flashing in warning at Steve, and he puts his hands up and furrows his brows.

“Buck,” Steve cautions, his shoulders curl down as if making himself smaller, and he goes to take another step.  There's a shaky exhale behind you, and you let out a growl at Steve. “Flowers, I just wanna talk to him, please.” 

Your stance is wide and head low, Bucky's heart is still beating like mad, and when you look behind to check with him, he nods slowly. You back up and sit at his feet, keeping an eye on Steve and Sam.

Bucky's breathing is ragged, and he shuffles from foot to foot. “I,” he starts but then clamps his mouth shut.  You look up at him when he absent-mindedly pets your head.  He's looking out the large floor to ceiling windows to his right, eyes searching for something his brain can't grasp.

“Do you know me?” Steve asks firmly, his hands are still out in front of him, Sam close behind him with a hand on Steve's shoulder.  When Bucky looks back at him, he swallows hard, and his metal arm whirrs. 

“Y-you're Steve,” he croaked out, “I read about you in a museum.” You lean against Bucky's leg, and he lets go of a heavy breath.

“I know you're nervous. And you have plenty of reasons to be. But you're lying,” Steve says. It sounds a lot like his Captain's voice, and it even puts you on edge.  When he tries to take another step, you see Sam's grip on Steve's shoulder tighten and keep him in place. “Bucky, you know me,” he tries again and takes two long steps forward, evading Sam's grasp. “You're my best friend.”

Bucky scrambles back, breath coming out in unsteady pants, “I-I,” his retreat is halted by a wall, and his eyes go wide, darting around the room for any escape. 

You Shift, halting Steve's advance, and both he and Sam make shouts of protest and cover their eyes.

“That's enough!” You tell Steve, putting yourself between him and Bucky again.  “Can't you see he's scared? Ain't no one ever told you to never corner a wild animal?  He's gona lash out and hurt somebody, and it isn't gona be me!”  You move forward and punch Steve in the arm, one arm across your chest to cover yourself.

“Ow!” He removes his hand from his eyes and rubs where you punched him.  His eyes avoid looking directly at you.  Sam chuckles.  “Okay. I get it-”

“Do you? Because you're still standing here, all-” you flail an arm at him, “-all Captain-y.” Steve's nose scrunches up at your words, and he peaks at you from the corner of his eye. “Go down the hall, third door of the left. And wait,” you tell him.

Steve looks at Bucky over your head, then back to you, and nods once. He and Sam make their way down the hall before you release a heavy breath and your shoulders sag. 

“Petal,” comes a small voice from behind you.  You turn with both arms crossed over your chest and give Bucky a small smile.  He's holding out the hoodie you let him borrow, and you put it on.  It comes down to your mid thigh, and you zip it up. 

“I'm sorry-”

“Sorry -”

You both speak at the same time. Bucky gives a sheepish smile. He's relaxed a little since Sam and Steve left, but still on edge.  At least his arm stopped making noises. 

“You don't have anything to apologize for, James,” you place a hand on his arm.  “if you don't want to talk to Steve, you-” 

“I do,” he interrupts, “I just don't know what to say.  Or,” he fidgets with his fingers, pushing his flesh thumb in the plates on his metal palm.

“Why don't you let him do the talking? And at any time it gets too much for you, you say so, ok? You're in control here.” 

Buckys brows pulled together, and his wide eyes shine with tears. He scrubs his sleeve across his face and nods at you. 

It's going to be a long journey for Bucky to trust himself and others, but giving him the choice to do so was more than anything anyone has given him in the last 70 years.

-*-

Sorry this took so long! Thanks for reading! Please Reblog and comment! It means a lot <3

[writinghabits1]

A Familliar Face

Pairing: Ghost x OC

Warning: Fighting and a little gore. Betrayal. Wounds

Summary: Daniella now works as a bodyguard. She is tasked with protecting a man that the 141 are after. But the last she saw them was when they turned their back on her after she was used as a scapegoat

WC: 2.7k

_______

Black heels clicked against the floor as Daniella walked down the marble-floored corridor with a purpose.  Her hips were clothed in a tight-fit mermaid black dress covered in sequins and clear stones that sparkled with the heavy sway. The dress covered her right shoulder and then down to her wrist hugging her arm tightly. A low-hanging choker diamond adorned the bottom of her neck with dangling diamond earrings to match. Brown hair hung above her shoulders in loose waves that bounced with every step.

“Miss,” The butler nodded to her as he opened the large white door to the room where the party was being held. The music was gentle and loud enough to cover sensitive conversations between people below. Daniella walked to the railing before her to look down, scanning the area. Then her eyes fell on someone she was hoping would not appear tonight. Her head lifted slightly while she breathed before turning to her right to walk down the stairs.

“Miss Hamilton,” A voice pulled her from her thoughts as she reached the bottom of the stairs. Plastering a smile on her dark red lips, she snapped her brown eyes to look at a man in a white suit. He was young with short brown hair and a few days old stubble adorning his jawline.

“Mr Lopez,” Her voice smoothed over his name effortlessly as she put out her left hand for him to take.

“Please, I have told you many times.” The man smiled at her as he took her hand and brought it to his lips to kiss her knuckles. “Call me Simon.”

“And as I have said before, Mr Lopez, this is professional.” She told him while raising an eyebrow. There was more of a reason she didn’t want to call him that name. That name held many memories she didn’t want to bring up again.

“When I was told you would be the one keeping me safe, I must admit.” Mr Lopez smirked at her as he released her hand. “I was shocked.”

“Why because I am a woman?”

“Preciously, you do not get many women in the protection business.”

“And that’s why I am the best choice.” She stated quickly with confidence. “No one would expect me.” She smirked.

“I love the way you think.” Mr Lopez smiled at her before offering her his arm. “How about a drink?” He asked as Daniella took his arm and nodded with a smile. He led her over to the bar, where he ordered her champagne and bourbon for himself. Another thing that seemed to hit too close to home with this job. Gritting her teeth, she smiled back at the man she was given to protect.

“I am guessing you have already scouted the room?” Mr Lopez asked her as she took a sip of her champagne with a gentle nod.

“Yes, everything seems to be good for now.” She told him as she held her small black clutch back in her right hand.

The night seemed to carry on easily as Mr Lopez conducted his business with other partygoers. Introducing Daniella as his date for the night so he could keep her close and not raise suspicion. But something was in the back of her mind the whole night, that face she didn’t want to see. Mr Lopez or someone in the party is on task force 141’s radar, which didn’t do well for her.

“Bella, we have business that needs conducting.” Mr Lopez whispered in her ear as he led her off behind another two men in black suits.

“The woman stays outside.” The man pointed at Daniella, who eyed him up and down.

“Afraid not, gentlemen. She stays with me.” Mr Lopez shook his head as the man went to fight him, but the other elbowed him in the side, gently shaking his head.

“Fine, but she doesn’t mutter a word.” The man pointed his finger at her. Daniella’s eye twitched with anger which was clear across her face. They walked into the office-like room, and Mr Lopez made his way over to the table where an older man sat behind. They quickly greeted as Daniella walked to the other side of the room. She had no interest in knowing what their business was about. She was only here to keep Mr Lopez alive; that is all she would concern herself with. The men were about halfway through their business when a loud thumping and grunting could be heard from the other side of the door.

“Shit,” Danielle muttered as she opened her clutch and pulled out the only thing in there, a combat knife. “Mr Lopez, Sir, through that door now.” She told them, pointing to a door on the opposite side of the room. “Do not move from that room until I come and get you.” She ordered them. Mr Lopez nodded and guided the older man to the doors.

Daniella kicked off her heels and kept them at the side. She waited for the doors to burst open and for a man to rush in. He wore a white collared shirt with black tactical vest and formal trousers. Daniella rushed out from behind the door, jumping onto his back and wrapping her arm around his neck, locking him in a chokehold. The man dropped his rifle against his body and reached up to try and pull her off.

“Fuck!” The man squeezed out through breaths as he moved backwards and smashed Daniella against the door. Hard enough for her to loosen for a moment. Enough for the man to grab her arm and flip her over his shoulder, she twisted her body, so her legs hit the ground before anything else. Allowing her to keep her footing. She held her knife up, ready to fight.

“I don’t wanna fight a woman.” The man muttered in a thick British accent. Danielle looked at his vest and noticed the 141 patch.

“Good, because you won’t win.” She smirked at him as he pulled out his knife, ready to fight her. He was the first to move, swinging his knife to her neck. Daniella throws counter strikes back, only managing to nick his right cheek.

“A little busy right now!” The man yelled clearly to someone was his comms in his ear. Daniella took this moment of laps to make her move. She stepped forward before dropping and hooking her leg under his to pull. The man flew backwards, cracking his head against the flooring before Daniella moved and landed a heavy punch to his face, knocking him out. She stood up and quickly made her way to the door to open and look at Mr Lopez and the older man.

“We gotta move.” She told them as they followed behind her back into the office. They looked at the unconscious man on the floor.

“Jesus, Bella.” Mr Lopez muttered as he looked back at her.

“Head to the cars out back. I’ll make sure you’re not followed.” Daniella told them as they nodded before leaving quickly. Daniella walked over to her heels and slipped them back on just as a groan emitted from the unconscious man.

“Who,” He muttered through a groan.

“I suggest you stay down,” Daniella told him as she slipped on the last heel. “And tell your friends to stand down.” She told him as she turned and walked to the door; the man reached up and grabbed her ankle.

“Look, I’m only going easy on you because of that 141 patch.” She told him as she ripped her ankle from his grasp. “Don’t take my kindness for weakness.” She said as she walked away from him.

A few moments later, two other men rushed into the room where the unconscious man lay with a blackening eye.

“Gaz, you broken?” A deep voice asked him as the man knelt next to Gaz.

“Negative Cap, just a bruised ego.” He muttered as Price helped him sit up while Soap guarded the door.

“What the hell happened?” Soap asked as he continued to keep his rifle trained down the hall.

“A woman in a black dress. Must have been a bodyguard or something.” Gaz muttered as he wiped the blood from the small nick on his cheek. “She used nothing but a combat knife. But she knew about 141.”

“What,” Soap called, surprised as his eyes snapped to the Captain. “Sir, you don’t think…”

“Price to Ghost,” Price called down the comms. “I think we have a problem.”

Daniella made her way down the corridor with the heels clicking and echoing around her. She had tucked the combat knife back into the clutch she had picked back up before leaving the room. As she rounded the corner, several handguns were immediately trained on her. She immediately stopped and scanned the area in front of her.

“What the hell is this?” She hissed as she looked at Mr Lopez on his knees with a pistol at his head by the older man.

“This is me taking matters into my own hands.” The older man grumbled as Daniella’s jaw clenched in anger and her nose flared.

“I don’t appreciate a pistol being pointed at me.” She muttered in a deep, dangerous voice. Her eyes gave him a warning. “I am here to do one job. Protect Mr Lopez from any threat.” She told him as she slowly stalked through the men around her. “Do not make yourself a threat, or I will take you down.”

“Really? I have six men with pistols pointing at your head. You make one move, and they will shoot.” The man muttered.

“Do you know what is more dangerous than a trained woman?” Daniella muttered as she stopped with the older man’s pistol pressed against her forehead.

“What?” The man asked, taking a gulp. He could see there was no fear behind her eyes, only anger.

“A woman with nothing to live for.” She muttered to him before moving fast and hooking her arm around his, twisting their bodies so that the older man took all the hits for her once his men began firing their pistols. Daniella reached and took the gun from the older man and turned around to fire the clip into the three men around her. Just then, a tall figure appeared behind them, and Daniella’s heart jumped at the sight of a familiar man. She shook her mind quickly out of the train of thought before turning the pistol onto another man, but he knocked it out of her hand. She moved easily to knock the man out quickly before the newcomer took out the last two men. Now, the two stood amongst dead bodies on the ground, staring at each other. They didn’t say anything but stood sizing each other up.

“Why the hell are you here?” The man grumbled behind his mask—a mask she wished never to see again.

“A job.” She muttered to him bluntly.

“Explain.” He ordered her, which caused her to laugh deeply. Daniella could tell without seeing his face that he was angry, making her smile, knowing she was the cause.

“I don’t need to explain anything to you, Simon.” She told him with a smirk, and he took a sharp breath. He lifted his rifle and pointed it right at her. “Let’s not forget how we got here first.”

“That was three years ago.” Simon fired back at her, not taking his eyes off her.

“And I was dishonourable discharged because I was protecting the team. A team that was supposed to have my back kicked me to the kerb.” Daniella hissed loudly at him, taking a step forward. “I trust you, Simon, of all people.”

“You murdered innocent people,” Simon told her.

“They were not innocent, Simon. It was a cover-up, and I was the scapegoat.” She told him with a pissed broken look. “The General fucked up and pinned on me so he could keep his job.” She told him. “When I came to you and the team for help, you looked at me like I was some criminal. Just like you are now.”

“The evidence was there,” Simon told her, his resolve beginning to falter. “I watched you on the tap.”

“Please, with the right people, they can be edited,” Daniella muttered to him as she took a deep breath. “I loved you, Simon.” She told him before looking down at the floor. “But seeing you turn your back broke everything in me.” She told him as her bottom lip began to quiver. She pulled in a deep breath to compose herself.

“Danni,” Simon muttered as his rifle dropped from her. Daniella lifted her head to look at him to say something but saw a man round the corner behind Simon. Daniella moved before she could think and threw the knife at the man behind Simon. Simon didn’t move as the knife flew past his head and landed in the man’s eye behind her. But not before the sound of his pistol firing ripped through the room. Simon spun around to point his rifle at the man who hit the floor. He relaxed before turning around to look at Daniella again. She was looking down at her stomach, which her hand pressed against.

“Damn it,” She muttered as she stumbled slightly before catching herself. Simon moved quickly to her just as more men appeared from the corner again. He lifted his rifle and began to fire off at them, and he wrapped his left arm around Daniella’s waist to support her while they moved out the hall.

“Price, this is Ghost. We are pinned down the south hallway.” Simon yelled down his comms before he let go of Daniella, who now supported herself against the wall, while Simon leaned around the corner and continued to fire his rifle. After what felt like a while, Simon looked at Daniella.

“Stay here,” He told her as he moved around the corner to finish off the men; Daniella could only guess that the rest of the team was there. She knew she couldn’t stay here. There was an order for her to be taken in; she learned many things about many bad people. Something that the higher in the military want. She couldn’t go back, knowing she would never be let go.

Daniella pressed her hand tightly against her wound as it leaked her blood. Her fingers are stained red as her breathing becomes rugged. She knew if she was going to get out of here, she needed to go now. Pushing the pain aside, she kicked off her heels and forced herself to move forward. Using the wall as support, leaving bloody prints in her wake. She blinked several times to keep her vision from blurring due to blood loss. She stopped at the main doors, and she held the handle tightly.

“Goodbye, Simon.” She muttered before pushing open the back doors and walking out of the building and into the surrounding forest.

_____

“It’s Danni,” Simon told Price and Soap after they had finished taking out the men around them. “She’s been hit.”

“What the hell was she doing here?” Soap asked as he looked around at the number of dead bodies lying on the floor.

“My guess was protecting the target,” Price muttered as he looked at Mr Lopez Laying amongst the dead bodies. “But it looks like he got caught in the crossfire.” Simon turned around and walked back to where he had left her, only to see her heels and bloody handprints leading out of the building.

“Fuck!” He yelled in anger before turning to Price.

“She’s left,” Soap muttered, looking at the forest before them. “There is no chance of finding her.”

“How bad was her wound?” Price asked Simon, whose fists were not balled up in his gloves.

“Bad enough.” He said as he turned around to face back into the building. “We have some digging to do on the General,” Simon told them as he walked away from them.

“Do you think that Danni is innocent?” Soap asked, looking to Price, who sighed as he looked at Simon walking away.

“Something tells me there is more to this than what we see,” Price told him before following Simon.

“What the hell just happened?” Gaz asked Soap, who patted his hand against Gaz’s shoulder.

“It’s a long story. Let’s get to evac, and then I’ll explain everything.” Soap said, leading Gaz the same way the other two went.