#but i think because it was so freaky that is why wade liked it so much. because he knew. out there. god was frowning at him.
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Where is the wolverpool fanfic Sci
What did the little hairy man do to the tall topical map man that was so good
fact is i'm too terrified to write it (the wider implications keep me awake at night)
#sci speaks#i don't want to go there. i'm not ready. and you'll all walk out of it saying âwow. that's messed up actually.â#but i think because it was so freaky that is why wade liked it so much. because he knew. out there. god was frowning at him.#i think wade only ever wants to make god frown. that's why he wakes up in the morning.
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Oooohh i have a request!:
Playing ânever have i everâ or something like that with logan and wade (maybe along the lines of a boring friday night with nothing else to do) and you admit to never having an orgasm by anyone but yourself
Flash forward youâre in loganâs arms and wade is eating the fuck out of your pussy, and then they switch đđ
iâve written something similar two the second part here, but i love the never have i ever idea! // divider from @strangergraphics
boredom isnât something heroes are used to. thereâs always something happening somewhere, someone needing to be saved. but tonight, everything is quiet. the three of you were suspicious at first, but you checked every police scanner, news outlet, and all of your contacts and came up with nothing. the bad guys had decided to take an evening off, and now you were stuck with nothing to do.
you, wade, and logan all sit around in the living room with bottles of beer. you and wade stare at the mindless gameshow on tv while logan rests his eyes. youâre definitely bored, but wade is restless. itâs like heâs itching for something to do, like his body is physically unable to handle the inactivity.
âwhy donât we play a game?â wade asks, startling logan awake.
the two of you look over at wade. âwhat kind of game?â you ask.
âi donât know, ânever have i ever?ââ
logan rolls his eyes, then shuts them again. heâll deny any âold manâ comments, but he really is one. you elbow logan in the side and he opens them again.
âcome on, itâll be fun,â wade pleads.
âitâs not like we have anything better to do,â you say to logan. reluctantly, he agrees.
you reposition yourselves in the living room. you sit on the couch, leaned against the arm with your feet in loganâs lap, who sits on the other end. wade sits on the floor by the coffee table, his beer on the table without a coaster next to him.
âthis is your game, wilson. you start,â logan says before taking a sip of his beer.
âno, donât drink! you only drink if youâve done the thing i say,â wade scoffs. how can logan be so old and still know nothing about fun? âokay, okay. never have i ever⌠gotten arrested.â
you furrow your eyebrows at him while logan takes a drink. youâre almost certainly wade has been arrested before. âi donât think youâre playing this game right,â you say. âyou have to say things youâve never done.â
wade scoffs. âi havenât been arrested, thank you very much. all the cops whoâve tried have mysteriously ended up with broken noses.â
you roll your eyes at him. âmy turn now? never have i ever⌠cheated on a partner.â
both of them take drinks, wade with more shame than logan. ugh, men.
then itâs loganâs turn. ânever have i ever worn a dress.â
you figure itâs targeted at you, just because loganâs a dick, but to your surprise, wade drinks too. logan raises his eyebrow at him, silently urging him to elaborate.
âyou wish you saw that, huh, peanut?â he taunts instead. logan makes a face at that.
âiâm thankinâ god i didnât have to.â
you play a couple more rounds, all three of you exchanging stories and sipping from your bottles. it takes a lot to get them drunk, but youâre starting to feel it. thereâs a collection of empty bottles, mostly beer, but halfway through the game, wade decided to up the ante with some liquor.
itâs wadeâs turn again and he says, ânever have i ever been with two guys at once.â
he means it as a joke. he doesnât expect anyone to drink. thereâs no way logan would do something like that, and youâre too innocent. thatâs why his eyes practically pop out of his head when you throw back the shot.
the game turned sexual a few rounds ago, but it was pretty mild stuff. talk about doing stuff in public, kinks, freaky shit like that. nothing as interesting as this.
both wade and logan turn their full attention to you, eager to hear this story.
âwhat?â you play dumb.
âtwo guys at once?â wade asks. you shrug.
âit wasnât anything.â
ânah,â logan says, sounding interested for the first time all game. âyou gotta tell us.â
you sigh. âit was a while ago. i met this couple at a bar and they said they were looking for a third. i had nothing better to do and they were both hot, soâŚâ you trail off, shrugging again.
âgive us the gory details. howâd you do it? daisy chain?eiffel tower? double cowgirl? triple spooning? come on, tell us,â wade rambles.
âyouâre a fucking perv,â you tell him and he doesnât deny it. âit was just normal dp.â
logan raises an eyebow. âthat stands for double penetration,â wade tells him.
âi know that. iâm just wondering how you took it all,â logan says.
youâre used to this kind of talk from wade. the man thinks with his dick so much that you question if he even has a brain. youâre not, however, used to this from logan. heâs no prude, but he usually doesnât participate in these kinds of conversations with wade.
âmustâve been a tight fit,â logan adds on.
you look between the men and their interested faces. youâre still pretty bored, the game having grown stale a while ago, and now youâre a tipsy. you want something exciting and right now, youâre feeling bold enough to persue it.
âdo you wanna see?â you ask them.
wade and logan share a glance, but it only takes a second before theyâre replying âyesâ in unison.
#logan howlett#logan howlett x reader#wade wilson#wade wilson x reader#wolverine x reader#wolverine#deadpool#deadpool x reader#wade wilson smut#wade wilson fanfic#wade wilson fanfiction#logan howlett smut#logan howlett fanfiction#logan howlett fanfic#wolverine fanfiction#wolverine smut#wolverine fanfic#wolverine x deadpool#deadpool fanfic#deadpool fanfiction#deadpool smut#deadpool x wolverine#deadpool & wolverine#deadpool x reader x wolverine
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Currently antagonizing over Deadpoolâs skin condition.
Does it have less feeling bc itâs scarred? More because itâs cancerous? Is it tender when people brush his skin? Or is it more of an itching feeling? Do the scars move? Are some places more tender than others? Does he have scars bc of the experiment done on him or is it because he developed some sort of cancerous skin condition after his mutant powers were activated? Is it melanoma? Maybe a basal cell?
(If Wadeâs skin is more numb, then I could make a case that he doesnât like gentle touches bc he canât really feel them. He likes it when Logan presses bruises into him, even if they fade because then he can actually feel it. He likes rough handling or bites or that freakiness we all know they have. More than just the thrill but because Logan isnât afraid to make a mark.
Maybe after his diagnosis and after his scars Vanessa was a little too gentle with him. Like he was made of glass. She meant it to be caring but Wade just felt fragile. Broken. In an odd way being broken by someone who knows he can take it and then put back together again feels so much better than someone whoâs afraid heâll shatter. It wasnât her intention but itâs different with Logan. Who sees Wade as his equal, someone who can take it, who likes the way Logan is and all his rough edges and needs it even.
The more I think about it, the more it seems like Wade appreciates that. He has close friends are alittle mean, alittle rough. They snap at each other and argue and Wade does it back. Al complains about every little thing Wade does but she wonât let him move out. Ellie will always be that bitchy teenager to Wade and theyâll argue about it forever but theyâll never leave each other. Of course Wade loves the gentle moments too but I think he really appreciates that they just treat him normally. He likes someone he can verbally spar with and still know that they would die for him and vice versa. And Logan is the epitome of rough around the edges but would die for the people he loves, which is why I think him and Wade work even when, on the surface level, it seems like they donât.)
I also like the head canon that Loganâs skin is smooth and not callouses at all despite the fact that he seems like the guy whoâd have a bunch of callouses but his regen factor heals them before they can form.
Opposites and all that.
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Like that âď¸
w/c: 1.2K
pairing: bf!wadewilson x f!reader
tags: 18+ smut. you miss him so bad, secretly masturbating, but he planned it, phone sex, dirty talk, voice kink, mutual masturbation, absolute freaks, knife play mention, blood mention, ghostface roleplay mention, freaky af
kinktober masterlist | main masterlist
wade was fortunate enough to get a pretty girlfriend after vanessa rejected him. he moved on once he laid his eyes on you.
you two together were the horniest people alive right from the get-go and that never changed even a whole year after being together.
now you were alone for a whole week because he went on an x-men mission with colossus to another state and you were already craving his touch.
for the past half hour he had been rambling on about his day and how they nearly lost the mutant they were suppose to find when you had an amazing idea.
you held your phone to your left ear and started to gently squeeze your tits with your right hand as he kept talking. you just hummed, not really paying attention to what heâs saying but more to his annoyed tone.
he sounded good.
it was nearing close to his bedroom voice which was probably why it turned a gear in your mind to get horny. you moved your hand down your legs and started to rub your clit while attempting to let out normal responses so he didnât suspect anything.
but wade being the fucking genius he was, had been doing it on purpose. hell he was so committed to hearing you attempt to pay attention that he was improv-ing. he had missed you just as much, if not more than you him, that he wanted to see how long itâd take until you broke before he did.
meanwhile he was already out of his suit and only in boxers in the motel they were staying at. he didnât even have to convince colossus to get separate rooms, he knew him too well that he had to do it for his own mental wellbeing.
wade had been stroking himself through his boxers while talking, something heâs been use to doing a handful of times already without you knowing but he wanted to flip the script tonight and you fell for the bait.
âso then i told the tin can to go fucking screw himself sideways and upside down because i was doing all the work! who does he think i am, his wife?â he rambles on and thatâs when you stopped your movements and he bit his lip to not laugh.Â
you were silent for a few seconds because a part of you was listening and before he was saying how he was letting colossus do all the work, âwade what in the fuck are you on about?â you ask and he bursts out laughing.Â
âlisten cupcake, i wanted to do a little experiment⌠letâs just say i pavlov dogged you because i want you to be horny at the same time as me.â he explains and you gasp, âyou sneaky fuck!âÂ
âyou think i canât hear how youâre practically out of breath? come on baby, you canât hide shit from me.â he teases and you bite your lip.Â
ânow letâs get to it because as soon as we got to this rust bucket i got rock hard thinking of you.â he says, making you let out a small moan.
âaw you like that donât you, sweet pea? love hearing how just thinking of you drives me fucking insane?â he murmurs and you just nod, circling your clit with two fingers.Â
âyou know i do baby- i love it so much.â you mutter and he grunts.Â
he slips a hand into his boxers and takes his cock out, spits on it then starts to stroke himself just so you could hear it. âmy fucking god i wish you had teleportation powers- fuck iâd kill anyone in my line of sight for you to be here.â he groans and stroked himself fast because he was too antsy.Â
âwanna feel your hands on me, touching and groping me everywhere.â you whimper and close your eyes, imagining your fingers are his and not yours.Â
going for more than a day without fucking was like not breathing, it was serious stuff.Â
âfuck donât say that youâre gonna make me miss those tits even more.â he complains and you could just picture the pout on his face.Â
âneed your mouth on them.â you say breathlessly and rub your clit faster, already feeling your arousal seep through your panties.Â
âfuck baby-â he moans and you could hear him working on his cock fast too so you copied his pace.Â
âwanna sit on your lap while you do it so i can grind against you.â you murmur, your hips bucking up against nothing.Â
âyouâre actually going to kill me.â he murmurs and sinks into the pillow.Â
âmm iâd already be nice and wet for you but you know i love some teasing..â you say earning yourself more grunts from him.Â
âis that pretty pussy dripping for me already baby?â he asks and you hum.Â
you quickly move your panties to the side and slide two fingers against your folds, âmhm.. you hear that? all ready for you baby.âÂ
he moans as soon as he hears the sounds of your sweet pussy talking to him, taunting him. âmy fucking god i need you on my face.â he pants and increases his speed again.Â
âyou have no idea how much i wish i said no to this whole thing. need to take care of my girl daily and this job-â he starts to complain but you interrupt, âyouâll make it up for me by fucking me all night long when you come home.âÂ
he moans and his eyes roll to the back of his head, âgonna fuck you so good weâre gonna have to get a new bed stand.â
you giggle and quickly slip your fingers in, immediately matching his pace because you needed to cum. ânext one should be halloween themed.âÂ
âgod i love when you talk dirty.â he mutters, making you whimper.Â
âdirty fucking girl- what do you want chucky or myers? or maybe ghostface so we can have another excuse to roleplay.â he suggests and you quickly nod.Â
âmaybe we can use knives againâŚâ you whisper, making him let out a loud moan.Â
âmaybe iâll be the one in costume and hold a knife to your neckâŚ.â you purr and he feels his lower abdomen reacting.Â
âfuck baby iâm close.â he mutters and you quickly pump your fingers harder.Â
âyouâd like that feeling of my knife pressed against you, wouldnât you baby? just draw a little bit of blood, afterall your favorite color is redâŚâ you murmur, making him absolutely lose it.Â
âi would- fuck iâd fucking love it- fuck- god i need it so bad baby please-â he pleased and it brought you closer to the edge.Â
that feeling in your stomach that came too often, one that was usually caused by him. technically it still counts but you wished he was there.Â
âweâre doing this as soon as youâre home- hell maybe iâm in the closet in that motel youâre inâŚâ you say in a low voice, hoping to scare him for a second at least.Â
as soon as those words came out of your mouth, he let out the hottest mixture of moans and grunts. his load spilled out even more than usual and some even landed on to his chest, hell almost reaching his mouth.Â
your body quickly followed suit, the sounds coming out of him being enough for your entire body to shake as your orgasm hit you harder than it has by your own fingers.Â
he quickly murmured sweet praises to you as you rode your high and you nearly let go of your phone. your body was shaking and you only wished he was there to hold you but hearing his voice was able to calm you down.
#wade wilson#wade wilson smut#wade wilson x reader smut#deadpool#wade wilson x reader#deadpool x reader smut#deadpool smut#deadpool x reader#kinktober 2024#kinktober
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The idea warms are hitting extremely hard today, so outside of my usual DPxDC I give you, Spider-Man in Gotham...Not MCU Peter edition!
Give me a Peter Parker that is 18 going on onto 19, he has been Spider-Man for like, 5 almost 6 years, getting his bite very early, and dealing with all the things that happen to him younger.
And give me a Year One Batman. Who is still trying to figure out what the hell he is doing, and toting along a 9 year old Robin
Peter, falling out of a portal, and doing his standard check of surroundings, spotting Batman staring at him in clunky armor and a brightly colored child: Waves slowly
Bruce, who heard some freaky shit was happening with a cult near by and went to investigate: blinking at the blue and red being that got summoned
Dickie, who is trying (and failing) to do the Bat glare: still waves back.
And like, just the idea of this 19 year old Spider-Man taking a much older vigilante under his wing, teaching him the ins and outs of it all.
Like..
Bruce, Storming through a bag guys base gets suddenly pulled back by a web to his cape.
Peter, giving him a "bitch you dumb" look under his mask: Traps! LOOK FOR TRAPS?? AND LOOK UP? PEOPLE HID THINGS UP?
Bonus, Spider-Man bending himself into a human pretzels and Dick "I have no bones" Grayson is gleefully testing to see if he could do it too.
Jump cut, years later, Peter beats emotional intelligence into Bruce with Dick.
All the Bat kids grow up with Uncle Peter, (either Peter can't get back or has been told specifically that he can't by a higher being or something) and like...
Peter is the only one that catches Tiny Tim following them during patrol, he shows him all the places to get the best angles, even poses a few times for him.
Either is there when Jason dies and saves him, or is there mourning with Bruce
(Gotham lives in fear of the memory, Batman at his most brutal and Black Suit Spider-Man)
Teaches Jason how to control his pit rage after he comes back, what is Spider-Man if not control?
Stephanie is his bestie in puns and white girl music tastes.
Tim finds a partner in constantly staying up far to late as well as someone who likes to invent,( because I hc that Peter has pretty much worked with every scientist in New York, cus like since this is a blend of canons, he has worked with the Lizard, Doc Oct, Reed Richards, the only one he said no to an internship was Stark)
Duke gets a meta mentor that can help him with his powers, Spidey has been on more than one team with someone that had some form of light powers.
Plus I think Spider-man is Gothams daytime hero before Signal joins him, they are the daytime duo
Cass is his favorite (don't tell anyone because they already know) she can see him and he can see her in a spider sense, they do the point meme whenever they sense each other.
Little stabby Damian finds out that this person with his father has been trained by many an assassin (Wade, Daredevil, Natasha, Shield in general)
And Wade...Deadpool pops up occasionally, even he doesn't understand why or how lBruce gets a strange feeling he should punch the Flash in the face the next time he sees him)
Bruce having to deal with Deadpool is terrible for him and I sadly love it.
(Also on the point of Black suit spidey in Gotham...ESPECIALLY after Jason is murdered? Oh Peter is killing the Joker, or his arm privileges forfeit. I feel like Peter would try not to kill him but wouldn't try too hard.)
Spider-man being a founding members of the Justice League, them having to deal with Peter crawling on the ceiling, and scuttering through air vents!
Peter making Parker Industries, pointing inventions from other heros/villains from his world, he isn't above pettiness, and that's how the DC world gets some of Reed Richard's old designs he gave to Peter "Because they are practically useless" they arnt they save millions of lives. Not to mention Arc Reactors, Peter grinned the whole time claiming it was his idea.
Hope you enjoy my ADHD rambling brought to you be sleep deprivation
#marvel x dc#spider man in gotham#peter parker#spiderman#batfam#batman#i wrote this instead of sleeping#peter is a little shit#bruce curses his past self for feeling sorry for the flippy sassy teen#peter is laughing the whole time in the background#i am feeling like this needs a meme#the one where its lilo praying for an angel and it cuts to stich laughing evily#that but its bruce praying for help and getting chaos grimlin peter#peter maybe convinced Dick to put on pants.
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the more I'm thinking about this "Bucky Barnes is a mutant who just happened to have a mutation that kinda looked like the super soldier serum's affects" AU the more it makes plausible sense with everything we know about mutants across the marvel cinematic omg
Dormant mutant genetics can be triggered by one of two things: extreme torturous circumstances or exposure to an Infinity Stone (evidence: this is how Wade Wilson and Wanda Maximoff respectively had their x genes triggered.) Pick your poison, Bucky was exposed to both of these things around the same time. He was literally forced to build weapons made from the Tesseract's energy like all the other POWs were, Bucky had extensive exposure to Tesseract radiation (also something Shuri canonically confirms). Bucky was also undergoing extreme conditions being worked to death, he had pneumonia before any of Zola's experiments even began and was on deaths door... how did a man who was practically dead already survive the intensely traumatic experience of having the serum when many men had died on Zola's table before him? Even before Bucky makes it onto Zola's table, a guard beats him nearly to death, breaking his ribs, because he's not strong enough to work anymore due to his pneumonia.
Why did Zola pick Bucky? Out of all the able-bodied men available, after a string of previous stronger men, Zola picked the one who was basically already dead? He risked exposure to a guy with an infectious disease no less who'd just been brutally beaten within an inch of his life with a fucking empty bomb shell thing?, to the point warring inmates teamed up to murder the guard in front of the whole camp, damn the consequences? Gabe Jones didn't think Bucky was going to make it another day and yet he survives without medical treatment, in awful dirty cold damp conditions in the cell, and even less food due to the group punishment for the guard's death for an indeterminate length of time before somehow ending up in Zola's lab.
Unless Bucky was already displaying unusual phenomenon. He was suffering with extreme exhaustion, pneumonia, broken ribs, deep contusions, likely the beginnings of body wasting through the disease and lack of food...his survival is shocking, I think anyone would be shocked to see a man with all that going on getting up and just continuing to live for who knows how long, Zola actively working on replicating the serum might've taken an interest because of this.
What were the Soviet soldiers doing all the way out there where they picked up Bucky? Why did they pick him up? Someone smarter than me also deduced that Bucky likely got himself out and walked some distance before the Soviets found him. Zola hadn't had time to get any messages out as far as we know and his deal with the Colonel didn't start until after Bucky was "gone". Unless the Soviets saw some real freaky shit going on with this random American soldier missing an arm, potentially the same thing Zola saw in the prison camp, and thought hmm we're not sure we want to give him back to the Americans who already have their super soldier (proto cold war with super soldiers instead of nukes...)
From what we know so far, none of the serums currently in use come from Bucky's blood. They come from the multiple different attempts to replicate Steve's serum. The CIA developed a lot of them and Isaiah Bradley's was just the one that happened to work, and Isaiah came before Howard's, and we can infer from that that all current serums stem from Isaiah's blood. Alexei says his serum was developed from stolen blood from a "semi-stable" CIA test subject, which was most likely Isaiah, since not only is Bucky's considered the most stable serum after Steve's, it's hinted that Zola lost whatever he might've done to Bucky when the facility exploded. He was given no time to pack anything up and would've had no way of knowing a possible serum used on Bucky worked at all given Bucky was still strapped down when Steve arrived. It seems unlikely HYDRA never tried to replicate Bucky's serum and it seems they weren't able to, I have two theories about that: they didn't have an Infinity Stone anymore, which Shuri believes was used in the place of Vita Rays, so they couldn't get whatever Bucky's got cooking to work on anyone else for that reason, or Bucky was never a super soldier at all, with no serum in his blood to attempt synthesizing from.
Just for fun: Bucky teleports. He just...pops around. This is complete crack but a common thing with Bucky is him just disappearing and reappearing in new locations that are implausible to reach even for a super soldier. And it's not just weird editing post-production either, characters react to it, it's a deliberate plot detail. Bucky's somehow able to disappear in seconds in front of T'Challa, the Black Panther, and a lobby full of people and none of them know where he's gone. It was a helipad btw. He somehow ended up on the helipad... dunno how he got there. Bucky jumped off a building with nowhere to go and a second later Steve looked, had a clear unobstructed view, and couldn't see where Bucky went. He does it more as WS than Bucky, so maybe as Bucky he's just not consciously aware he can do it so he doesn't, like the whole "I'm right handed so I don't always think to use [the arm]" thing whereas WS uses everything available to him.
Going with the Infinity Stone exposure theory, the stone Bucky was exposed to was the space stone, and the one Wanda was exposed to was first off the mind stone, and she had mind powers (along with the energy we've seen from all the stones) up until after the Infinity Wars where she came into contact with all the Infinity stones then boom, upgrade. Bucky gets shot once by the Power stone, that's it.
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Kim Possible Episode Tiers: The A-Tier
Since most of the episodes in the show are quality, the A-Tier is best defined as episodes that have a thing that makes them stand out. In addition to being quality, there's a reason to remember them.
This is also the largest tier, so strap in.
Coach Possible: The Kim coaching B-Story runs a little flat, but Jr. putting together a nonsensical plan that results in hypnotized Kim and Ron dancing in cages in a nightclub is what I live for. There's an underrated ending fight as well that culminates Kim fighting a Chuck E. Cheese robot, to catchy dance music, while Ron launches an evil disco ball to its destruction.
Bueno Nacho: Another iffy B-Story about petty work squabbles, but it's one of the precious early-series moments where we get to see Drakken and Shego at the top of their game. This was actually back when Drakken was still menacing, despite kicking off the tiny oversight that ruins his plan trend. Also, the lean.
Tick Tick Tick: The first episode in the production order. It does feel weird because they hadn't settled on the animation or the characters yet. That said, there is some amazing hero-villain banter in this one that they nailed right out of the gate.
Steal Wheels: The reveal that Motor Ed and Drakken are related pays off big time and it's sort of a shame that more team-ups between the two didn't happen. There are a couple of good things about the B-Plot here as well: (1) We sort of get a glimpse into how close Kim and Ron are, because she doesn't know what to do with herself when he's not there. (2) Always good to see Felix and have a character voiced by Jason Marsden.
Bad Boy: I honestly considered moving this lower, but I decided against it because the Attitudinator is too good of a concept to ignore. This episode drags a little bit because it gets bogged down in the exposition -- They felt the need to go through the whole process of Drakken not feeling evil enough, them going to the convention, explaining why Kim and Ron went to the convention, Ron being a bully for a bit . . . like get to the Evil Ron stuff already!
It's only a minor complaint though, this is still the A-Tier.
Mad Dogs and Aliens: Terrible B-Plot in this one because I never understood why Ron wasn't touched by Jim and Tim taking on the mantle and him immediately jumping in to show them how it's done (it's also kind of forgettable, it took some brain racking to remember it). The A-Plot is gold though. Bitter Drakken and apathetic turned jealous Shego reconciling the consequences of multiple episodes of Season Three wasn't really something I thought the show was capable of.
The New Ron: I've written it before, but the Seniors are brilliant villains. Combine a criticism of obscene wealth + Ron giving them the idea + the motivation for world domination being boredom . . . it's just a glorious recipe for a unique, comedic delight. I also relate to Ron's cowlick problems.
Monkey Fist Strikes: It's another villain introduction for a very good villain. I think what really puts this one up there for me is another top fight scene. Another good music selection (that I'm not sure really how to describe other than giving off a Sherlock Holmes vibe). It results in Ron coming through, by himself, and leaving Fist cinematically strewn across the Tai Sheng Pek Kwa insignia and surrounded by four broken idols.
Odds Man In: What a surprise, another sort of weak high school B-plot. The interesting aspects here are Drakken getting caught up in the sort of corporate villainy he had previously expressed distaste for (see Rappin' Drakken). Also, Wade goes on a mission with Kim!
Mind Games: I love the body swap concept, but fiction always sort of does it the same way. Freaky Friday, Gravity Falls, this episode . . . it's all sort of the "I didn't understand how hard you had it" thing. What makes this episode A-tier is Drakken and Shego's interactions over the body swaps and the Neutronalizer are some of the funniest bits in the series.
Low Budget: I love Frugal Lucre. I love that he is voiced by Richard Kind and I love the idea of trying to hold the world hostage without spending any money.
Crush: I made a whole post about how this is a really good Ron episode. It also might be the exception to this tier where it's just really high quality all the way through, but without anything particularly high concept about it. That's probably why it aired first.
Car Trouble: All of Shego and Drakken's interaction with Dr. Freeman are fantastic. It's too bad he wasn't a recurring scientist like Bortle. It's also a better B-plot than most because Sadie was a perfectly likeable vehicle.
Go Team Go: One of the brief glimpses we actually get of Shego's past. I'm not sure if I'm 100% sold on her brothers or not, but undoubtedly this is one of the more interesting episodes. Plus, evil family.
A Very Possible Christmas: I've taken to watching this on Christmas. A lot of gushy holiday feelings between the two lead pairs. The ending is a little weird though.
Dimension Twist: There is an element of cringe here -- It's weird to put Shego in a very milquetoast Friends parody. There's a lot of good as well (trap trap, Drakken's book) and honestly, I just want to see what else the Pandimensional Vortex Inducer can do.
The Ron Factor: I wrote a whole post about this one too. It's a very interesting subversion of the metanarrative within the show and the only reason it isn't S-tier is that Global Justice annoys me a bit. Could definitely have used more Gemini in later episodes though.
Sick Day: This is the best of the sub-15 minute episodes and the whole point of them is to go for quick laughs and nothing else. I would say it achieved it here with both sides having to quickly adjust to illness and the introduction of Hank Perkins.
Hidden Talent: "Say the Word" is a certified banger. I also like to see Drakken taking initiative to try and be a step ahead of the heroes. Don't forget, the only reason he loses here is because he tries the most complicated way of finishing off Kim ever.
Overdue: The second best of the 15-minute episodes. Once again, we're only here for jokes so we're going to see what happens when Ron tries to rush through defeating a bunch of different villains. It's enjoyable.
Oh No, Yono!: It's the end of Monkey Fist. It's a satisfying coming-of-age conclusion for Ron and a heartwrenching moment when Kim gets turned to stone. It's only not S-tier because Yono's presence detracts from Ron's real archenemy.
Exchange: For as good as this episode is, it's also very much a setup for what the series planned to do with Ron in the future. We've seen him succeed on his own at this point, but Exchange is interesting in that it creates a part of his life that Kim just can't be associated with.
The Twin Factor: The first of like a hundred mind control plots. It's fun to see brainwashed Shego and Kim and it was important for the series to actually develop Jim and Tim a bit, lest they be pigeonholed into one-joke obstacles for Kim to overcome.
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Darin, why Ronin of all people
RONIN: ive kinda got the reputation.
RONIN: for beating the absolute fuck out of people.
RONIN: heh, it was one blowup in middle school to protect someone and crowds fucking part for me like im going to kill them for breathing.
RONIN: its hilarious.
SETH: IT WAS KINDA FREAKY THOUGH,,,
SETH: like i get it but! it was a very public thing! and you know the rumors were really bad after, they probably think you threw hands for kind of a stupid reason.
SETH: and it honestly looks like you want to murder people all the time so i get where people are coming from.
RONIN: hey, your perspective is twisted because i actually do want to kill you sometimes. youre lucky i have impulse control, s.
RONIN: and "they", probably wade knowing how much he complains about me, can shove it. if they want to say shit about me for doing the right thing against a deplorable piece of shit, whatever. thats their problem.
RONIN: i shouldve killed him. every attempted rapist should die under my boot, in my opinion.
SETH: ...
SETH: yeah.
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Unhallowed Arts
Threesome: Peter Parker x Michelle Jones x Brad Davis Rating: E Word Count: 11,077
This is a submission for Thotumn, organized by @spideysmjs!!! Todayâs prompt: Threesome (but this fic also includes previous prompts: Semi-Public, Face-Sitting, and âDonât Be Gentleâ).
Summary: âWhatâs the compromise between abruptly shutting this down (her sex drive weeps) and getting in bed with a guy who will make the experience too emotionally intense?
'Have you ever had a threesome?â Michelle blurts.
'âŚWhat? No.â
âNeither have I. But Iâve been, um, wanting to try it.â
Have you? she demands of herself, wiping a damp palm on her jeans.
âYou, me, and someone else?â Bradâs eyebrows are very high on his forehead. âThatâs a lot of bodies, uh, coming together.ââ
Brad Davis has a Mary Shelley mug. He used to drink from itâcoffee he brought to work in a thermos from home, which smelled so delicious that Michelle would go out of her way to inhale it over his shoulder, pretending to let him show her something on his monitorâuntil the mug cracked and he switched to using it to house typical office junk. She asked him about the mug exactly once, fearing it was bait to intrigue a certain kind of person, to make him seem like a certain kind of person himself. But he surprised her. Turns out heâs not a douche (or at least not a douche who lures women in with female authors of historical significance), just a genuine Shelley fan.
Heâs not many things Michelle initially assumed him to be, striking them off a mental list over the months theyâve worked together: not a guy who takes the last free seat at the table during a team meeting, not a guy who checks out his own reflection on his black phone screen, not a guy who wears sturdy hiking boots for show. When they troop out to conduct surveys on behalf of the conservation initiative they work for, Brad scrambles up the side of eroding banks and squelches into marshland until water soaks his socks and surface residue clings to his leg hair.
Bradâs not pushy, though sheâs well aware that heâs been watching her as long as sheâs been watching him.
Early on into them working together, she fell into his arms. Literally fell. The team encouraged Michelle to wait for the second truck, the one bringing the ladder, but she got stubborn and climbed the tree to check the bat box the old-fashioned way. Unfortunately, some of the branches were dead and hollow inside, but Brad caught her when she dropped eight feet. And then flirted with her before she could catch her breath. She had some less friendly words for him in return. The first time he surprised her was when he immediately respected her clear boundaries and backed off. Theyâve learned to work easily with each other and drink together in the same booth when people from the initiative hit the barâon evenings they donât smell too much like they spent the day in Mother Natureâs armpit. Theyâre friendly, could almost be friends, except that sheâs incredibly conscious of his persistent attraction to her, even if he doesnât do anything about it because heâs not a douche. Itâs a knowledge Michelle simply lives with.
But there have been an awful lot of evenings lately of smelling like whatever swamp she waded into during the day, of either going straight home to shower the stench away (thank fuck for rent with utilities included), or hunching over her laptop as she tries to get a grant application finished before a midnight submission deadline. Nobody she works with is holding their breath for the day the government decides it should just give them the money to protect local habitats without making them prove themselves over and over and compete against other worthy environmental projects for the funds. So, Michelle works, and she wades, and she loses many of the evenings she could be out getting laid.
On a regular they-better-pay-us-for-the-overtime evening and not a marshy/swampy/boggy one, sheâs comfortably stretched out in a booth with Brad across the table. Two of their colleagues were here a minute ago, but they got up to⌠go to the bathroom? Grab another round? Thatâs a little hazy, but Michelle can feel something becoming clearer to her. Observing her own hand as she twirls the base of her latest empty across the tabletop, she asks a question.
âYou like Mary Shelley, right?â
Brad, glassy-eyed but still trying to look professional with the way he has his hands folded on the surface in front of him, smiles at her. She can feel it.
âYes. Her creativity was astounding. If I were in the running for the Miss Universe pageantââ
Michelle jerks her chin back and looks up to make a face at him.
ââand they asked me what historical figure I would most like to have dinner with, I would say Mary Shelley. Hands down.â
âCool story, bro. Hey, Brad?â
âMhmm.â
She can tell by his drifting gaze and expression of introspection that heâs planning out his pageant answers.
âDo you still want to sleep with me?â
That focuses his attention. He laughs uncomfortably.
âWhy⌠why would you think that?â
âOh, so, whatâs your limit?â Michelle presses, slightly snide with the alcohol in her bloodstream. âYouâre not interested in going past holding hands? Making out for no more than five minutes? Because you obviously want something,â she rambles on. âYou look at me, I know you do.â
âThis isnât just an idle question, is it?â Brad asks.
He leans forward to look at her as carefully as his tipsiness will allow. As if he already knows the answer. Their thought patterns are very similar, sheâs found. Itâs why theyâre effective at work and why itâs possible to fall into a discussion on books during their overlapping lunch hours. She likes himânot a lot, but enough to have started this conversation. She stares back at him.
âI wouldnât say no to it,â he offers quietly, though the bar is crowded tonight and Michelle doubts their words are traveling beyond the booth.
Now, Bradâs looking at her in a way that makes her realize, all this time, heâs barely been looking at her. With the permission to think of her in this way, thereâs a clear desire there, a gaze that slips again and again to her mouth. Huh. Ok. Maybe she didnât completely think this whim through before sharing it with him. She canât fuck that Brad. Sheâs been imagining the drinking companion, the nice forearms he reveals when he literally rolls up his sleeves in the field, the man who will always be a little on her nerves for flirting with her as he cradled her against him. Someone whose world she could casually rock with the assurance that they both have enough self-confidence to carry on afterwards without getting clingy or feeling disposed of.
Whatâs the compromise between abruptly shutting this down (her sex drive weeps) and getting in bed with a guy who will make the experience too emotionally intense?
âHave you ever had a threesome?â Michelle blurts.
ââŚWhat? No.â
âNeither have I. But Iâve been, um, wanting to try it.â
Have you? she demands of herself, wiping a damp palm on her jeans.
âYou, me, and someone else?â Bradâs eyebrows are very high on his forehead. âThatâs a lot of bodies, uh, coming together.â
âCome on, Bradââ
ââWhereâs your sense of adventure?ââ he guesses.
âI was going to say, I thought you loved Frankenstein.â
She rounds her impulsive invitation off with a smile.
â
Michelle doesnât volunteer to select the third person. When she considers which of her friends and acquaintances sheâd be comfortable having sex with, well, thereâs Brad. That already hasnât gone the way she predicted. Everyone else sheâs close to either feels like family, is in a monogamous relationship, or just isnât attractive to her in that way. She consoles herself over putting the choice of their third into Bradâs hands with the thought that he seems like heâd be the most suspect person in a friend group (yes, they get along, but thereâs something sleazy about the way he tries too hard), so whoever he asks can only be more tolerable than him.
âSo, a buddy of mine said heâd be into it,â Brad says as sheâs passing his desk one day. Michelle stops dead and he swivels in his chair, drumming his fingers on the armrest.
âYouâre talking aboutâŚâ
âYeah.â He darts a look around, then hits her with a conspiratorial smile.
âOh. Ok. Good. Turtles,â she says more loudly to cover for them. Her gaze darts to the nearest desk, but Jocelynâs wearing headphones and bobbing her head as she populates a spreadsheet. Reassured, Michelle takes a step towards Brad and lowers her voice again. âWhatâs his name? How do you know him?â
âHis nameâs Peter. We play soccer together.â
âHow the hell do you have time to participate in organized sports?â
âThatâs what I do while youâre working your way through the New York Times Best Seller list,â Brad jokes.
âFair. But who is this guy?â
âYou want his rĂŠsumĂŠ?â
âNo, I want to know heâs not going to give me an STI or try anything freaky.â
âFreaky,â he echoes. âAs opposed to threesomes, which are an incredibly common thing to do with your boyfriend.â
âOr your friend from work,â Michelle retorts, to keep things very clear. Brad appears fleetingly wounded. Too bad. He can say no any time, but itâs obvious that heâd rather see her naked in a threesome than the alternative. Which is never.
âYeah, of course. Anyway, you donât have to worry about Peter. Heâs responsible, heâs single, he was raised by his aunt and theyâre still really close. She comes to all our games.â He lets out a derisive sort of laugh and Michelle narrows her eyes at him.
âThatâs sweet.â
âI guess,â he concedes.
âWhyâs he single?â she asks, rapid-fire.
âI donât know, because he wants to be?â
ââWants to beâ like heâs emotionally stable and waiting for the right person to come along or âwants to beâ like heâs a flake with commitment issues?â
Brad gives her a look like sheâs overthinking this; it betrays an utter lack of comprehension of a womanâs perspective on relationships. The validity of her questions goes over his head.
âWhy does it matter if he has commitment issues?â
âRelax,â she says, rolling her eyes. âIâm not trying to date him, it just says something about his personality. I donât want to do this with somebody selfish, because if heâs selfish in other areas, heâs probably selfish in bed.â
âHeâs a good passer,â Brad says. âOn the field. He always ends the season with more assists than goals.â
âThatâs⌠not a totally useless testimonial.â
âI appreciate your approval.â
Michelle would laugh if his tone werenât a little too earnest. The way he really wants to impress her can be grating. Well, heâll soon have his chance to impress her in a situation where she actually wants to be impressed.
âGet back to work, slacker,â she tells him, returning to her own desk.
Fifteen minutes later, Brad texts her with three different dates to choose from. Michelle pulls up her calendar, colour-coded with deadlines and days sheâll be working out in the woods. Taking late nights and the need for long showers into account, she picks a date, then leaves her thumb hovering over âSendâ. She puts her phone down.
This is where she could still back out. Bradâs mentioned it to his friend, but sheâs under no obligation to either of them. Would it be awkward to change her mind and see Brad at work every day? Yes, though she could always say she just wasnât that serious about it to begin with. Which she wasnât! For someone whoâs soothed by referring to her colour-coded calendar and progressing through life with each forward step carefully considered, tossing out a suggestion to have a threesome was rash.
Michelle eyes her phone.
On the other hand, Brad likes her too much to be a dick post-mĂŠnage Ă trois, which, as far as she can see, is sort of an ideal trait in a threesome companion. If she were going to do this. She wheels her chair back and cranes to peer across the room at him. Focused on his screen, he brushes his black hair out of his face with a quick swipe of his hand. Damn, he is nice-looking. The kind of guy Michelle would definitely approach at a bar for a one-night stand if he flashed a smile her way. If picturing him naked intrigues her, then the idea of lying down between him and another muscled body (Brad said soccer, so sheâs assuming this friend has an athletic build) while the three of them wind over and under each other like a braid definitely ticks a big âYESâ box in her brain. Her hand shoots out for her phone. She hits âSendâ.
Three bodies which will, in Bradâs words, be coming together. Maybe not what Mary Shelley had in mind, but anticipating this threesome does more for Michelleâs libido than an electrified jigsaw of corpses ever could.
â
Itâs a different bar, and sheâs in different clothes, but otherwise, itâs not a totally foreign way for Michelle and Brad to spend their Friday evening. Provided he shows up. She darted home after work and a loaded glance at Brad, showered, and starred deep into her neglected makeup bag like it was some sort of prophetic tool. Michelle, it said to her, you donât want lipstick smeared all over your face and eyeshadow fallout stinging your eyes. Leave it at mascara and a whole whack of waterproof eyeliner. She obeyed these wise words with trembling hands, nearly prodding herself in the eye with her mascara wand because, even with a doable task to concentrate on, she was nervous.
She adjusts her short, black skirt, rocking side-to-side on the stool. For a regular date, itâs the kind of item she would borrow from a friend, but it struck Michelle as incredibly gross to wear a friendâs skirt to a threesome and then return it to them afterwards, so she bought this one online. During work hours. Feeling incredibly furtive, though everybody dabbles in online shopping during lulls in their workload. The skirt was never a normal purchase; she knew it was going to end up right here, right now, between her ass and a barstool. She gulps the end of her whiskey and goes back to cradling the beer thatâs been her emotional support as she waits for the guys.
Arriving ten minutes early has felt like an ageâtime stretching wretchedly like those clocks in âThe Screamââbut she finally hears a familiar voice calling her name. Flipping her hair out of the neck of her leather jacket and grabbing her support system, Michelle turns to spot Bradâs face. He smiles and waves, stepping through the crowd thatâs building steadily as the after-work drinkers are exchanged for the cutting-loose-for-the-weekend drinkers. When she slips down from the stool, her skirt rides up, and the man who is usually just a co-worker allows himself to notice. His gaze on her bare legs feels good.
âSorry weâre late,â he says, though they both know sheâs early. But Michelle will take this pleasantry over an implication that sheâs overeager.
Since they were at work together only a few hours ago, she skips small talk.
âWhereâs yourâŚâ Friend, sheâs going to say. She doesnât need to.
Bradâtidy in a partially unbuttoned blue shirtâangles himself towards her side, making room for the woman taking the barstool she vacated, and Michelle sees a man approaching with the two of them as his clear destination. Her first sense of him is filtered through Brad. Once, through Bradâs description, twice, through Bradâs cologne. It may be coming off her friendâs skin, but the scent clings to Peter in her brain. What sheâs smelling is the woods, only more expensive somehow, like a perfume company bottled the idea of glamping. Doesnât matter that the scent doesnât suit him at all. He walks with his head up, eyes openly excited, and it makes her think of a schoolkid progressing through a museumâs dinosaur exhibit. All heâs missing is a backpack with straps for him to clutch. Letting her gaze skim down from his face, Michelle actually canât picture him trying to haul on a backpack; his shoulders look broad and strong, even under the incongruous red hoodie heâs wearing.
âOh,â he says when he sees her standing next to Brad. Under any other circumstances, sheâd be taken aback by his eyes scanning the full length of her body, but sheâs going to fuck this stranger tonight and when he looks back up to her face, heâs grinning. âHey.â
âHi,â she replies, more guarded, less forward, until Brad suggests trying to find someplace to sit and Michelleâs able to check Peter out from behind as he leads them away from the bar. Nice butt.
They snag a coveted corner spot as a small group in business attire is leaving it, settling with Brad between them. Peter makes himself useful by dashing back to the bar and returning with the fingers of one hand twined between the necks of a trio of beers and the fingers of the other slightly dipping into the liquid in a pair of tumblers.
âI didnât know what youâd like beyond what youâre already drinking,â he says, jerking his chin towards the beer Michelle finished while he was gone.
âThatâs fine,â she assures him. âI donât want to be too⌠I want to be aware ofâŚâ
God, trying to discuss the imminent threesome directly is making her flustered. She has a swig from the new bottle he placed in front of her. Peter leans across Brad and offers his to clink with. Where Bradâs face is aggressively handsome in the heavy line of his eyebrows and the sharp perfection of his teeth, up close, Peterâs is cute and unintimidating.
âHereâs to being a consenting participant tonight and remembering it tomorrow,â he says.
Unintimidating, but not uncompelling, especially when he tilts his head back to drink and she can watch the line of his jaw.
Michelle blushes, but knocks her bottle against his.
Two rounds deeper for them and one for her, the heat of the bar and the alcohol in her system are getting to her. She winds her way back from the washroom and shrugs out of her jacket before sitting down. Peter manages to get the end of his sentence out, but Brad doesnât even try to respond as he takes in the low sides of her silky top. Michelle slides closer to him than she was sitting before and puts a hand on his knee as he finally turns his head and stutters out a reply to Peter. Peter looks past him and catches her eye. Her heartâs springing up and down in her chest because she realized, staring at her reflection as she washed her hands, that, if theyâre going to do this, somebodyâs gotta make a move. Peter, sleeves shoved up, is staring back at her like heâs been thinking the same thing. His hand smooths over Bradâs thigh.
Under the table, Brad keeps his legs still, his feet flat on the ground. His comfort in his own skin is something Michelleâs always respected. He even succeeds in raising his glass steadily to his lips and taking another drink while Peter runs his hand higher. With a little throat-clearing, Brad parts his thighs further. She doesnât mean to be, but Michelleâs waiting for Peter to go first. They were talking about something innocuous when he said just enough to imply that heâs never been in a threesome either. Regardless, thereâs a confidence in the way he touches Brad. She trails her fingers up Bradâs thigh and Peter locks eyes with her as their gazes cross watching their friend swallow.
Suddenly, the man between them is a little less present, even with the sharp breath he takes at the moment Peter tucks his hand against his crotch. Michelle rests her hand over his. She feels his skin, lets her fingers slip through his, as Brad gasps and swells beneath Peterâs palm; she can tellâthey have to change the curve of their grip to accommodate the erection. Bradâs arm curls around her waist and presses her into his side as her and Peterâs hands move together, stroking through Bradâs pants, rubbing him. He glances at her, heat in his eyes, but sheâs looking at Peter again by the time she leans in and kisses Bradâs throat. She draws it out into a lick at the slack way Peterâs mouth is hanging open. Hopefully, the fall of her hair is blocking the necking from the view of other patrons, but that hope is tough to keep in mind when Peterâs tongue appears to wet his lower lip. Like sheâs kissing him.
Thereâs a squeeze between Michelleâs thighs that has her gripping Peterâs hand more firmly, urging him to jerk Brad off faster. She glances towards Peterâs lap and he lifts his hoodie with his free hand to expose the bulge in the front of his jeans. The scent of her perfume rises as sweat trickles between her breasts. They knead Brad rapidly until he chokes out a plea for them to stop, begging to take this someplace private. She grabs her jacket in one hand and links the fingers of her other through Bradâs. Tugging him to the exit, she trusts Peter to bring up the rear.
â
Making out in the back of a rideshare is bad behaviour, so Michelle takes the passengerâs seat when the car pulls up. Because she is feeling the need to go back a step from risky under-the-table handjobs and just kiss someone. And that someone is not the friend she arranged this with. She glances at the sidemirror as theyâre passing under a streetlight and Peterâs staring at her. He winks. Slowly, like sheâs just looking idly around as they drive, she turns to glance into the backseat. Brad has his arm stretched out along the top the seats and his fingers have dipped into the neck of Peterâs hoodie. Michelleâs pulse accelerates just imagining the warmth of that throat. Scrambling for her phone, she sends Brad a text.
Put your fingers in his mouth.
She faces forward again for about a block, prolonging her outward nonchalance even as she hears a vibration, followed by Bradâs soft snort of acknowledgement as he reads her text. She glances around the edge of her seat and sees him act. His hand comes out of the sweatshirt to take Peter by the chin and turn his face towards him. Briefly, he inclines his head towards his friend, speaking too quietly for her to distinguish the words, but Michelle guesses itâs something about her watching because Peterâs gaze jumps to her as he opens his mouth and accepts two of Bradâs fingers. She can see him sucking as Brad withdraws, cheeks flushed. He looks to herâfor approval, she thinks, until he holds his wet fingers up and curls them in the air in a highly suggestive motion. Oh shit. Michelle feels herself pressing down on the floor of the car like sheâs in the driverâs seat with the accelerator under her foot.
Theyâre going to her place where: sheâs on home turf, she knows itâs clean, she can go right to sleep after kicking them out. Also, the one luxury of her second-story apartment is the king-size bed her friends seriously, outrageously got on ladders to help her push through the sliding door of her balcony because that was easier than carrying it up the narrow staircase. Tonight, she plans to get some good use out of all those acres of mattress.
As with the hijinks in the car, she knows both men are watching her as she lets them into the building and then through her front door.
âKitchen,â Michelle says, with a loose wave of her hand. âLiving room, bathroom. And the bedroomâs at the end of the hall.â
Brad excuses himself to empty his bladder and/or psych himself up in the mirror above the bathroom sink and sheâs wondering how to entertain his friend during these uncertain moments of transition when Peter basically lunges forward and kisses her. She moans into his mouth because itâs sudden but itâs good. His hands go right to her ass and her arms wrap around the back of his neck, holding him against her. With her heels, she has a handful of inches on him, but that doesnât appear to make him pouty or daunted. Itâs less than a minute, probably fewer than thirty seconds (understanding the flow of time is temporarily lost on Michelle), but they separate panting.
âYou can tell Brad to stick his fingers in my mouth all you want,â Peter murmurs, still staring at her lips, âbut Iâve got something I wanna to stick places too.â
âUnderstood.â She nudges her thigh into his groin.
âSo, you guys arenât waiting for me, huh?â Brad asks with a tight smile as he walks out of the bathroom to see Peterâs hands on her ass and her pressing back against him.
This is kind of the idea, all three of them experimenting with each other, but she can tell heâs annoyed that anything went on while he was out of the room. That heâs possibly jealous. Though it doesnât feel right to move away from Peter, Michelle knows how to rectify this. She strides to Brad and puts her hands lightly on his chest before kissing him, more coyly than Peter kissed her. She lets Brad come down to her as he hunts out what he wants from the kiss. This feels nice too, though it has more of the familiarity of kissing a friendâeven though they havenât touched in this way beforeâthan the bubbling lust that went with kissing Peter. As she continues, tracing her fingers to the center of his chest to stroke his skin and begin undoing his buttons, Peter comes up behind her and helps her out of her jacket. She hears her keys jingle in the pocket and tap against her phone. When his hands sneak through the sides of her shirt to run across the underside of her breasts, Michelle pushes Brad back, back, back, and the three of them stagger to her bedroom.
She and Brad make out in the dark for a while, and without light, the kissing get rougher, their breathing ragged. Once she has all the buttons of Bradâs shirt undone, she reaches back for Peter and he grips her hand tightly as he grinds his erection against her ass. Theyâre pressing snugly into her front and back when she thinks of things like being able to locate condoms and ogle musclesâboth activities require some light. Michelle squeezes out from between them and turns her bedside lamp on, angling the shade so the light stays low. Turning to check on them, she sees one man standing there with his shirt open and dishevelled and the other rigid in the front of his jeans. Bradâs hard tooâshe felt it when she stood against him, but his erectionâs not visible from where sheâs standing now. Itâs odd, seeing the space between their bodies and knowing she was just in it. But with Peter rubbing Bradâs dick at the bar and Brad clearly turned on by having Peter suck his fingers on the way here, theyâve been messing around too. Why should they pause to get her back in the middle? Stubborn and curious, Michelle crosses her arms where she stands and gives them an expectant look.
Peter reacts first; he grabs the back of Bradâs neck and stretches up to kiss him. The instant their mouths meet, Michelle understands the three of them have a problem. Trading off sexual favours, these guys are ok, but being on two sides of the same kiss makes them competitive. Fucking weekend athletes. Countering the dominant neck-grab, Brad bats Peterâs arm away and takes his face in his hands. Itâs not sweet, itâs controlling. Peterâs next move is yanking Bradâs body against his by crumpling the open front of his shirt in his fists. Oops, well, alright, Michelle decides. Maybe itâs better to put herself back in the equation.
Because she has no intention of babying Brad through this experience, when she slips between them, she puts her back to him. Picturing his disappointed face, she raises her arms.
âTake her shirt off,â Peter interprets, tearing his hoodie over his head in a flurry that peels the t-shirt beneath halfway up his torso.
Itâs evident in his method that Brad isnât interested in being told what to do with her. He makes sure to drag his hands over her as he takes his time. Maybe heâs being a dick about itâthatâs what the narrowing of Peterâs eyes tells her as he stares at Brad around Michelleâs headâbut sheâs enjoying this. Thereâs something about having spent so much time with Brad and those hands that has her pressing back against his erection. Sheâs witnessed him performing countless practical tasks, like driving the stakes for âTrail Closedâ signs deep into semi-frozen ground with a sledgehammer to protect new plant growth in the spring, knotting a rope leash around the waist of one of their colleagues as overkill when they wade into a pond to collect a sample, or just his impressive typing speed. (Not as many words per minute as she logs, but still.) Heâs only quick when he pushes the material above her breasts and shifts his hands down quickly to cover, then massage them. She can almost hear him internally screaming at Peter that he beat him to this, only she doesnât care. Heâs tugging her nipples now and she shuts her eyes with a sigh.
âYou like that?â he asks into her ear, which is when Peter loses patience for this display and removes her shirt the rest of the way himself.
Michelle retaliates by dropping her arms and edging his shirt up his stomach while Brad continues to caress her chest, now also kissing her shoulder. Though Peter lets her remove his t-shirt herself, she can add a willingness to get naked quick to the few things she knows about him; he seems like heâd be just as happy to whip all his clothes off at once as go through the foreplay of undressing each other. She remembers what he said to her in the kitchen. He has his own aspirations for tonight and the grin he gives her when she gets his t-shirt off makes her wonder what he wants and how soon sheâll be giving it to him. Michelle canât feel any part of her resisting. Itâs⌠surprisingly freeing.
Brad shuffles behind her, slipping out of his shirt, and her heart leaps as his chest presses to her back, skin to skin. Peter makes a grab for her crotch, but she lifts her eyebrows wryly and spins to face Brad instead.
âThis fucking skirt,â she hears Peter mumble behind her as he slides his hands up her thighs to play with the hem.
Itâs not exactly a sexual fantasy sheâs fulfilling when she digs her fingers into Bradâs hair and combs it back, but itâs definitely a fantasy. He just has great hair. Sometimes, when sheâs bored in a meeting, sheâll look over at him and feel this compulsion to run her fingers through it. She discovers that the strands feel soft and wonderful, so thereâs one dream realized.
As sheâs moving the palm of her hand down to cup his cheek, she shifts her head to the side, catching Bradâs eye and nodding back towards Peter.
âKiss him nicely,â Michelle instructs.
Bradâs dark eyes bore into hers for a moment, then he breaks the stare and looks to Peter.
âLetâs go, Parker.â
Satisfied, she gets out of the way, circling behind Peter. While heâs partly distracted by the kiss (tamer than last time, by the looks of it), she rests her hands on his waist. Then, Michelle thinks, Screw it, and feels him up all over his chest, shoulders, and stomach, before wending her way down to his hips. His jeans are probably really putting pressure on his erection right now. Sheâll help. After flicking the button open, she means to move away, but⌠plans change. Sheâs barely dipping the tips of her fingers below the waist of his jeans when Peter pulls away from Bradâs insistent mouth to mutter, âWell, thatâs not fair.â
Instead of continuing, Michelle delights in retreating. Peterâs protesting noise is absorbed by his friendâs lips and she pats his ass before going to tease Brad. First, she guides the hand Peter has on Bradâs shoulder up into his hair so he can share her joy at how touchable it is. Then, she grazes her palms down his back. His friendâs body is dense with muscles, like somebody who goes to the gym a lot, where Bradâs is lean. Their work is a decent split between time indoors and outside, fairly physical, so she knows he has strong legs, good lungs, all the endurance he needs for the days they have to park far from a trailhead or navigate gullies. She forgot to ask what position they each play on their soccer team, but sheâll be concerned with another type of position for the foreseeable future.
To keep things even, Michelle unbuttons Bradâs pants. He makes a needful sound and goes momentarily loose between her body and Peterâs. This is not the reaction she expected from a man so socially comfortable, who apparently maintains a far better work/life balance (and, presumably, a steadier sex life) than she has lately. These noises, which continue as she works his zipper down against the push of his erection, expose him. He makes himself vulnerable. Something zinging through Michelleâs body compels her to take advantage.
She and Peter propel Bradâs co-operative body towards the bed. The guys land with a thump and continue kissing; Peterâs fingers form a gun as he angles Bradâs jaw, driving his tongue into his friendâs mouth. Michelle stares at them, breathing hard for having done nothing. Not breaking the kiss, Brad raises a hand to reach for her, but sheâs quicker than that, dropping to her knees. She and the band of his underwear get along immediatelyâitâs easy to uncover his dick and the elastic cradles him instead of trying to snap back into place against his abdomen. Though the access with his pants still on isnât amazing, she kisses his stomach, then the head of his cock. Up above, Brad moans.
With a smirk, Michelle repositions a little on her knees and grasps her friendâs thighs. Heâs whimpering. Heâs full-on whimpering. She leans in and licks slowly up his length. Her heels are already starting to bother her, so she reaches back and tugs them off one at a time. The next thing she means to do is gather her hair out of the way as she shallowly sucks Bradâs erection and strands swing forward, trying to tangle in his open zipper and stick to the saliva sheâs coating him in, but Peterâs hand is there first. Still making out with Brad (she can hear it if she canât see it), he encircles her hair in his grip and rests his fist lightly on her shoulder. Dammit. Sheâs a soft touch for his soft touch, closing her eyes to the sensation of his knuckles brushing her skin. This stranger is ruining the nice underwear she put on tonight.
âPlease, Michelle, please,â Brad breaks free of Peterâs mouth to say.
He reaches out to hold her ribs, cup her breasts, but while he and his friend might share the field on Saturdays or whenever, they donât seem to be on the same team tonight.
âNope,â Peter informs him. âI get her next.â
âNone of that possessive shit,â she warns.
âCan I please have you next?â
âYou must be a real pain for your friends,â Michelle guesses sarcastically, letting him guide her over to his lap instead of Bradâs. (Whoâs probably looking sour. She doesnât know. Her eyes are glued to Peterâs.)
âNo pain, I promise. Iâll be gentle.â
She rolls her eyes and settles in, straddling him.
âOh myââ There is no âgodâ because he kisses her before she can finish.
Thatâs his second annoying offense in seconds and sheâs going to let him know. Really, she is. But heâs reminding her that he never let go of her hair by lifting it and slipping his hand against the nape of her neck to caress her skin. Michelle angles her hips and grinds up and down the swell in his jeans. Peter doesnât mess around stroking her legs and hips, he just darts both hands beneath her skirt and traces the edges of her underwear where they curve around her thighs and narrow between them. She can feel him draw the fabric aside and gasps into his mouth, anticipating his fingers, when Brad tips the both of them over.
Itâs disorienting, but they twist onto their sides and her friend scoots close behind her, so she decides she doesnât mind.
âYouâre not getting out of this,â Peter speaks quietly against her mouth when she thinks heâs about to kiss her again.
Michelle finds herself smiling, almost laughing, as he flips her skirt up and elects to take her underwear off. Thereâs only so much he can do like this, so she takes over, kicking them to the floor. Thatâs annoying offense number three; those underwear are sexy and she thought sheâd be showing them off some before they hit the hardwood. Weirdly, Peterâs disregard only makes her smile broaden.
âLike I was trying,â she quips.
âAre we bantering,â Brad checks, âor are we fucking?â
âDude, I am so sorry for the people you sleep with. Banter is an important part of the process,â Peter instructs.
âFuck you, Parker.â
âAnd when you do, I guess I canât expect any banter. Iâll adjust my expectations.â
âIâll adjust your nose with my fist,â Brad responds in a playful tone. Michelle isnât completely sold and she wavers, sandwiched between the two of them.
âCool,â she says, âbut actually, I am here to get laid.â
Two sets of male hands collide where her thighs are pressed together. She takes a deep breath at their enthusiasm, unable to tell whose fingers are skating along the skin just above her pubic hair and whose are subtly attempting to wedge between her legs.
âAfter you,â Brad says smoothly.
âThanks, man.â
Her friendâs hands retreat a short distance and Peter insinuates one of his thighs between hers to create some space.
âThis ok?â he checks, sweet face even sweeter horizontal.
âBe my guest,â Michelle says, copying Bradâs formality and reaching up and back to squeeze his shoulder so he realizes. She gets a kiss on her neck in response.
Peterâs fingers run slickly through her arousal. Itâs a methodical mapping, feeling as though itâs meant to arouse her rather than him, but their eyes meet and heâs wearing an expression like heâs the one being fondled, though his erection cleaves to his abdomen, twitching under his clothes as he fingers her.
âYouâre teasing me,â she points out, pulse jumping at her inner thigh.
âAm I not supposed to?â
Michelle tries to rock harder against the pass of his fingers and he moves them away with a grin and a chiding, âAh!â
âJust give her what she wants,â is Bradâs disgruntled input.
She turns to watch as he sits up and undresses from the waist down. He gives her a smile like theyâre on the same side, demonstrated by him advocating for her pleasureâsomething Michelleâs quite comfortable doing on her own. And yet, alright, her friendâs heart is in the right place, and it is difficult to monitor and decipher the fluctuating moods and responses of two other people, and his directive is obeyed. Peterâs fingers return and push through the wetness he helped generate, touching her entrance and gliding inside her, one finger, then two. Michelle groans deep in her throat because finally.
Brad lies down at her back again and, with Peter working her up, she fumbles behind her and grabs her friendâs ass to encourage him closer. She can feel him hard and hot against her, partly touching her rumpled skirt, partly her skin. He rubs against her and reaches an arm around, greedily squeezing her hip, then sweeping down to feel for her clit.
Sheâs sweating between their bodies, breathing hard and shuddering involuntarily when Brad gets his fingers positioned to trap her clit and begin gradually cracking her mind like peanut brittle. Where heâs painstaking, Peterâs exultant. He increases the pace of his fingers until theyâre shuttling in and out of her. Michelle grips Bradâs wrist with one hand, Peterâs neck with the other, then switches, then moves both hands, grappling for some constancy that the part of her brain currently squashed beneath her need for satisfaction knows sheâs not gonna get. Her hips are writhing in their hands as a clear goal fights its way through the fog of lust: unzip Peterâs jeans. Itâs tricky, with the over- and underpass of arms, but she does it and he thanks her with a sloppy kiss that only seems to land on her mouth by miracle.
âClose,â she gasps.
Behind her, Brad groans and nips at the base of her neck, making her shake. Heâs humping her quickly, pushing with his hips as he pulls back with his fingers on her clit. Good thing Peter hooks his fingers firmly inside her so he doesnât get jostled off this ride. Good thing too that his curling motion strikes her so, so right. Michelle cries out and comes, his fingers still pumping ruthlessly inside her, Brad pinching her clit, and then coming himself; she feels the jet spurt up her back, probably some on her skirt too.
Which is why she did not borrow clothes for this threesome.
Peterâs expression is impish as he tries to keep coaxing her through the pleasure, but she pushes at his chest and he finally takes his hand away.
âOh my god,â Michelle sighs, flopping back and half onto Brad.
âGo team,â her friend pants from beneath her.
âYeah. You guys have some kinda cheer you do at your games?â
âSometimes we bump chests,â Peter offers, hands suddenly on her boobs.
She twists, trying to see Bradâs face without lifting up. Her temple makes contact with his chin.
âDoes your friend have an off switch?â
âIf he did, Iâd skip that and just pull the plug,â Brad says. He wraps an arm around her and she wiggles until he relaxes the hold, forcing him to make it less territorial.
âAww,â Peter says, managing to cup her breasts in a perfunctory way, like heâs pushing them up to prevent under-boob sweat while she cools off post-orgasm, âyou guys are bantering. I knew you could do it. Also,â he adds, âI donât know if anyone happens to be keeping track, but Iâm the only one who hasnât gotten off.â
âThat sucks, man.â
With effort, Michelle sits up and glares at Bradâs unconcerned face.
âDonât be a dick,â she says.
âYeah, Brad,â Peter joins in.
Shaking her head, she puts her back to her friend and checks Peterâs face for her go-ahead. He nods in rapid approval, so she grips the waist of his open jeans and pulls down while he lifts his ass from her bed. Fuck, the three of them never even got under the sheet. Then again, itâs easier to be mobile above it. Plus, itâs an extra layer between her expensive mattress and the fluid drying on her spine.
Because Peter doesnât seem like the kinda guy who cares to be undressed layer by layer, Michelle doesnât striptease herself with taking off his clothes slowly. At some point, he kicked his shoes away, meaning itâs straightforward to yank the boxers and jeans down his legs. Her intention is to remove them completely. He doesnât seem to have a hell of a lot of regard for her intentions.
âThatâs far enough, I swear,â he says, when she has his jeans around his shins. âIâm good. Nike time. Just do it.â
âJust do what exactly?â Michelle asks indulgently. She rests a hand on his naked thigh and tries not to stare openly at his dick, red as a slap.
âAnything. Whatever you want. Brad says youâre multitalented.â
Brad rolls over lazily to glare at Peter.
âWhat the hell, Parker? Donât make it sound like that.â
âLike what?â
âLike I talk about Michelle like that!â
âI get it,â she says, cutting him off. Please shut up, Peter, she thinks. âYou talk to him about work. You appreciate me as a co-worker.â
âThatâs definitely why Iâve heard so much about you,â Peter agrees provokingly. âBecause he appreciates you as a co-worker.â
âYou know what?â Brad bites out.
âWhat?â
Michelle rolls her eyes and opts to terminate this snippy little back and forth by grasping Peterâs cock and bending over to wrap her lips around the head. That shuts both of them up. Thank god, some fucking peace.
He emits a deep groan of approval and weaves his fingers into her hair, slightly bucking his hips. As she sinks to take him deeper, she hears another groanâhoarse with an entirely different emotionâcoming from Brad. She doesnât stop. If he has something to say, he can damn well use his words. Michelle clutches the inside of Peterâs muscular thigh and sucks as she starts to withdraw only to plunge him farther into her mouth. Peterâs hand finds hers and tangles their fingers together next to his hip, catching some of the sheet in his grip too. The gesture dizzies her heart.
While heâs seeing god, Bradâs apparently seeing red, because he taps, then tugs, at her shoulder, until she pulls off of Peter and shoots her friend an impatient look.
âWhat?â
âIâll do that,â he says, nodding towards Peterâs straining, saliva-slicked erection.
âSomebody better fucking do it,â Peter says in the tragic tone of an established sufferer. They ignore him for the moment.
âYou want to?â Michelle asks skeptically.
When Brad averts his eyes from hers, she realizes that, no, he doesnât want to, he just doesnât enjoy watching her blow Peter. She wavers, wondering if she should cancel tonight halfway through. Maybe that would be sacrificing what she wants for the self-esteem of these two men, but theyâre just so goddamn annoying. Theyâre supposed to be friends and theyâre acting like rivals. Michelle doesnât owe loyalty to either of them, sheâs nobodyâs girlfriend, and yet sheâs getting the feeling that she needs to pick a side. Even a novice like her can tell this isnât the way a threesomeâs meant to go. If they were worse at this, she might be able to walk away.
Abruptly, Brad kisses her, then nudges her gently aside as he drops to his elbows to pick up where she left off. Peter draws a fraying breath. Well, either these two arenât combative enough to present her with an ultimatum, or they just want to get laid as badly as she does. If Brad bites Peter or some shit though, sheâs throwing them both out and leaving the necessary medical care in their hands. Michelle will not be responsible for these men and their egos.
Peter tweaks her fingers, their hands still clasped. She leans in close to observe his heavy breathing and the way his hairâs sticking to his sweaty forehead.
âI still want you,â he whispers. The words are like static shock, like a finger tracing unexpectedly down her neck. âAnd you better be quick because I think Brad thinks heâll get extra points for speed.â
He gasps, eyes rolling back, and Michelle instinctively cups his neck, running the pad of her thumb along his throat. She doesnât glance over at Brad; hearing the frantic wet noises paints a sufficiently informative picture.
âYou think you can concentrate while heâs doing that?â
âTotally.â Immediately, a desperate, guttural croak leaves Peterâs lips.
âYou sure?â
âNo, but I still want to put my tongue inside you and that should count forâuhhh!âsomething.â
âSuch as?â she asks with a wry smile, straightening her legs out so she can remove her unspeakably defiled skirt.
âHell if I know, my concentration was pretty shitty to begin with.â
âCenter yourself,â Michelle says in the calm, instructive tone of a yoga tutorial as she levers herself over his chest and rests her ass lightly on the hard planes of his pecs.
âBrad,â Peter begs, âcut me some slack for one fucking minute, dude.â
âOne minute, huh?â she teases.
âAre you doubting me?â
âPeter Parker, I donât even know you.â
But, somehow, sheâs beaming down at him as her hair falls around her shoulders. For an instant, he looks completely focused on her and not the sound of Brad switching from giving him head to pumping him in a fist (his version of slack-cutting, evidently). Peter eyes her from her face down to where her legs are spread above his body. Then back to her face.
âIâd like for you to.â
Her teasing expression softens. She parts her lips to respond and he wrenches her forward, onto a mouth that opens at once. He licks up into her, then keep his tongue tensed and prods her clit back and forth. Michelle curls into herself, thighs suddenly snug against the sides of his head, fingers locked in his hair.
This is, perhaps, the single event within the larger experience that sells her on threesomes. Peterâs mouth feels incredible on its own (like heâs fusing the peanut brittle shards of her mind back together again and going too far, melting them into goo), but the intermittent moaning that leaves it due to Bradâs contribution down below means Michelleâs riding something that licks, sucks, and vibrates. Sheâs a mess. Tilted forward, sheâs nearly crying out to plant her hands on the bed and just grind across Peterâs tongue, but the hand not hold hers has her hip in a formidable hold and she canât reach far enough to be comfortable. Each time she thinks to force her eyes open and check his face to make sure heâs enjoying this as much as she is (and still breathing), Peterâs eyelids are flickering as he absorbs the combined pleasure of taking from Brad and giving to Michelle. Sheâs shaking and trying not to get too rough with him, smoothing a hand over the hair sheâs been practically pulling out at the roots. Peter counters with a quick smack to her ass before seizing her hip again. Fine, she wonât be nice.
Michelle shifts and rolls her clit against the tip of his nose. It positions her entrance above his wide-open mouth and he slides his tongue thickly back inside her. The sound of him tongue-fucking her is graphic. He loses his rhythm and gets even more aggressive with his mouthâshe figures heâs close to release. Peter groans and arches his neck and chin up when he finishes, so she lifts swiftly away, hating to do it, aching and slippery.
She throws herself off of him, collapsing back onto her elbows with her thighs quivering. Dazedly, she observes Brad hurrying from the room with his lips clamped together (not a swallower thenâthe things sheâs learning about her friend tonight). Peterâs lying there, spent. With her emotions high, their tableau causes her to despair. Itâs over. Itâs all over. One of themâs too wiped to carry on, the otherâs just finished giving oral and wonât want to return just to bring her to orgasm. Michelle lets her head hang back and swipes two fingers over her clit, catching it and adding pressure on the upstroke.
Peter rolls over like heâs risen from the dead.
âYou donâtââ she begins, but then heâs there, between her quaking knees, suctioning his mouth to her and using his tongue to fiddle around with her clit. His arms are limp and heavy as they hold her thighs down and open. Any energy he has is converted into strokes and twirls, from there into her overwhelmed sobs. Brad walks back in to Michelle yelling, âPeter, fuck!â as she climaxes with her head thrown back and his pressed insistently into her groin by her stiff hand. When Brad comes to sit on the bed, Peterâs leg kicks out and catches him right in the stomach. The kick drives him off the mattress and onto the floor with a thud.
Michelle scrambles away from Peter, to the edge of the bed, as Brad stands and starts putting his clothes on, his back to her.
âAre you going?â
She sees Bradâs shoulders rise and fall as he sighs, but he doesnât answer her. Once heâs dressed from the waist down, he lifts his shirt from the floor with a swish and slips his arms in as he walks back out of the room. Uh oh. Michelle glances to Peter who appears maddeningly unsurprised. She yanks at the bedsheet until he moves off of it, but touches her wrist as she wraps it hastily around herself to chase after their friend.
âIâm sorry if I wrecked this for you,â he says.
âNo.â She shakes her head. âHe wanted tonight to be something it was never going to be and I thought, when he invited you, that he could handle it, but⌠I gotta go talk to him.â
âI think Iâm already lucky he didnât jump up and break my nose, so I better stay here.â
âAlright.â
Michelle almost stumbles trying to keep the end of the sheet off the floor, but she gets to Brad while heâs still buttoning his shirt, patting his pockets to check for wallet, phone, keys, maybe the little Swiss Army knife he carries because it always comes in handy eventually.
âBrad,â she says, cautious in cotton and bare feet.
He cuts a look at her with his dark eyes.
âBetter not,â he suggests.
âYouâre really leaving?â
âDo you need me to stay?â
She hesitates, leaning away from him slightly at the question.
âWell, it was supposed to beââ
âNo,â he interrupts. âDo you need me to stay?â
His eyebrow twitches with everything heâs suppressing: hurt, hope, jealousy. Bradâs smart, he knows the answer, but he still ventures forward with grave determination, the way heâd lead a group of their colleagues down a forest deer path that may or may not be crossed with poison ivy. But Michelle is not something for him to sweep clear and overcome.
âWe can only be friends, Brad,â she tells him, straight and honest. âThat doesnât mean I didnât enjoy doing this with youâŚâ
He grins ironically, giving her a glimpse of his bright, perfect teeth.
âPlease. You two were shutting me out before Parker booted me in the stomach.â
She doesnât really have a defense for that. They might have touched Brad, grabbed him, licked and kissed him, but none of that compared to how she felt whenever Peter took her hand. Sheâs actually a little scared to walk back into her bedroom and face that.
âHe didnât mean to,â Michelle asserts awkwardly. Brad lifts his eyebrows. âProbably,â she qualifies. He nods tiredly.
âIf he tells you I was a dick to him after our next gameâŚâ
âWhat makes you think Iâll still be in contact with him then?â Brad gives her a look and she frowns, chastened. âIâll believe him,â she says instead, âand I wonât blame you.â
âThis sucks,â he admits, smiling tightly at the floor.
âCan I get you a glass of water for the road? Transit fare?â
âIâd actually rather get out of here and begin the process of trying to forget what Peterâs dick looks like close up as soon as possible.â
She says nothing to champion the dick in question. That would be cruel.
âThis was⌠something I hope we can laugh about someday,â Brad says, and quickly kisses her cheek.
âIâllââ they say together.
ââtext you tomorrow.â
ââsee you on Monday,â Michelle says. âOh. UhâŚâ
âSpace,â he says, understanding.
âProbably good for right now.â
âYeah.â
When he leaves, she locks the door and bangs her forehead against it. Fuck. Sheâs going to have to get a new job, isnât she? Walking in to spot his heartbroken face every day is more than she wants to deal with. Their initiative has a bigger office downtown, not the outpost-like space they work out of. She can apply there. Probably shouldâve ages ago, when she started outgrowing the place sheâs at. Sheâll miss traipsing around outside the city, having to check her legs for ticks, her hair for spiders, and her arms for dead-branch-inflicted scratches deep enough to require infection-preventative measures, but she can buy some fucking plants. Start a garden in her windowsill. Hike on the weekends. Regain some of that thankless grant application time by devoting it to projects more clout will actually allow her to push forward. Be the chooser instead of the beggar.
Michelle laughs at herself, faintly tipsy and two orgasms deep, standing alone in her entryway in a poor manâs frat party toga.
She gets herself the glass of water she offered Brad. She pees with her goddamn adult white sheet scrunched up in her lap like a brideâs dress on her wedding day. She strides back to the bedroom and drops the sheet at the door.
âHello,â Peter says, perking up.
âHello yourself.â The man is stark naked and unashamed. âYouâve been, what, chilling?â
âI also eavesdropped.â
âYouâre a loser.â
âIâm the loser you havenât kicked out of your apartment,â he points out. His gaze slips naturally to her chest as she climbs onto the bed on her knees and takes a seat beside his prone body.
âWhy is that?â
She asks rhetorically, but Peter either doesnât pick up on that or ignores it. She kinda likes that about him. Where Brad tries so hard with her, Peter leaves her room to try a little too.
âYou like me.â
âUnfortunately, that is possible.â
âUnfortunately? Give me back those orgasms I gave you then,â he demands.
âOrgasm,â Michelle corrects, emphasizing the singular. âThe first one was assisted. You canât take full credit.â
âBullshit.â
She shakes her head but Peter grabs the back of her knee, pulling her forward, stretching her out, until sheâs on her back, laughing, and heâs hovering over her, inches from a kiss that she really, really wants to receive. Strange.
âIs not,â she tells him flatly.
âThen Iâm earning that plural.â
âOh yeah?â
Instead of kissing her or lowering himself down onto her or otherwise touching her in any way at all, Peter leaves. Michelle sits up and looks after him, baffled.
âWhere are your washcloths?â he shouts from the bathroom 30 seconds later. A laugh bursts out of her.
âTall cabinet next to the shower!â
She listens to him running water in the sink. Laughs again when he returns at a run.
âFlip over!â Peter says wildly.
âWhat the fuck is wrong with you?â
âCome on, while itâs still hot. Itâll feel nicer.â
Michelle rolls her eyes and maneuvers onto her stomach. He washes her back with the warm cloth. He washes her back. She folds her arms under her head and pillows her cheek on them, candidly observing him. In a practical sense, Peterâs wiping away what Brad left behind, and buying himself time to get hard again, sheâs certain. But it doesnât all feel like practicality. Not when every pass of the cloth is so careful, or when Peter makes another sprinted trip to the bathroom to heat it up for her, or when heâs lying down alongside her by the end, beginning to lightly kiss her clean skin.
âI donât understand you,â she hears herself confess.
âIâm an enigma,â he agrees. Michelle snorts.
âI do like you though.â
âCalled it.â
He chucks the damp, cooling washcloth over the side of her bed and she glares at him.
âThis room has wood floors. Which I pay for. As a feature of this apartment.â
âItâs not on the floor, itâs on my jeans.â
âSo, itâs soaking into your jeans right now? Thatâs convenient for you.â
âIs it?â Peter asks vaguely. His hand is rubbing back and forth very low on her back.
âIâm assuming youâre not planning to get back into wet jeans tonight and make your way home.â
âI would if you asked me to,â he swears, giving her puppy-dog eyes.
âAre you forcing me to say this out loud?â
A winning smile. She sighs in exasperation and turns onto her side, propping her head up with her hand.
âPeter, would you like to stay over?â
âDo you want that?â
âYouâre a pain,â she says for the second time. Peter continues smiling, waiting. Michelle takes a deep breath and keeps her eyes on his, not letting her gaze drift around the apartment that is nice but lonely, tranquil but lifeless. It has life with this surprising person in it. âI want that.â
He shuffles close to her with a grin.
âI want that,â he says, brushing his lips across hers.
âMmm,â Michelle agrees. Her eyelids fall. She parts her lips for his tongue. His hand fits into the curve of her waist and slips over to touch her back. His thickening erection nudges her mons, then her abdomen as he swells against her. Her moan skips and drags and Peter clutches at her more purposefully, tipping her onto her back.
âCondom,â she remembers, and points him to the box tucked out of sight. Discrete for the fact that she bought it for use in a threesome with a work friend and a total stranger.
Peter holds up her copy of Frankenstein, resting beneath the box.
âYou a fan?â he asks, returning it to its place and tearing open the wrapper on the condom.
âIâve read it twice, but I think I prefer Dracula.â
âAw, Iâm a wolfman guy,â Peter offers. He puts the condom on like itâs a sock or a baseball cap; thereâs definite familiarity there. And Michelle doesnât care. âDracula and Frankensteinâs monster are creepy, sure, but the wolfman is two different people: the regular guy and then this creature in the shadows during the full moon. I donât know, I think thereâs something really cool about that. You ever watch the old Lon Chaney movies?â
Ok, she more than likes him. She likes him quite a lot. Smiling, Michelle shakes her head.
âWell,â he says, but he stops talking then. Thereâs a depth to the look in his eyes as he gazes at her. She lets him in and stands as horizontal witness to his existence in blinks and breaths and the pound of his heart she can almost feel from here.
âWhy donât you get the light?â
Click.
In the dark, itâs less of a performance, not that Peter doesnât clearly intend to perform. Michelleâs eyes rest without the light and she breathes deeply as Peter comes over her and kisses her neck. Her eyes are still adjusting while he takes a meandering route down her chest, pressing his mouth harder against her breasts. He licks across her nipple; she scratches her nails up the back of his neck and into his hair. When she lets out the smallest huffing sound of enjoyment, he cups his hand between her thighs, skates a finger along her entrance. As if she wouldnât be wet. As if the foreplay didnât start the minute he walked back in with that warm cloth and draped it across her back.
âAny specific requests?â he asks, lifting his head from her chest. She can see his face now. Enough light gets in around the edges of her blinds. She runs her fingers through his loosely curling hair, then arches her body up against his.
âDonât be gentle.â
Michelle feels the eager tremor of his hand against her inner thigh as he lines himself up and eases inside her. His breathing catches. She tilts her hips and raises her knees from the bed, urging him in, farther, all the way. Peter withdraws and sheâs assuming heâll build up to what she asked for, but he slams back in. Though she clenches her teeth around the sensation of him filling her so hard and so well, a whine escapes.
âYouâve been waiting for this,â she acknowledges, accuses, admires.
He pauses, hands planted to either side of her on the bed.
âLike I said, Iâve heard a lot about you. Iâve been waiting for this since I convinced Brad to tell me your name.â
She wants to think and hide and hold him close, but she can reflect later. He seems to agree. Peterâs thrusts are rough and rhythmic. Pounding into her like a machine one minute, heâll be playfully grabbing her wrists and licking her neck the next. When she tightens her legs around him, he lets her change their positions, only to haul her beneath him againâon her stomach this timeâas he rocks in and out and wedges his hand under her to rub her clit. They chase each other across her mattress and Michelle comes clawing at her pillow, invigorated by the certainty that this is the best time sheâs ever had in bed. Peter bites her earlobe as he snatches one of her scrabbling hands and spills into the condom.
He doesnât help her remake her bed with clean sheets because he claims to be âbad at it.â Sheâs debating the potential truth of that when he returns with a bowl of popcorn after leaving her alone to do it herself, joins in, and somehow puts a lavender pillowcase on inside out. Michelle sets it right with a laugh and they get back in bed together, popcorn and her laptop playing Frankenstein Meets the Wolf Man between them.
She slips away to shower after Peter falls asleep with his head on her lap. When she gets back, she quietly removes the bowl and the laptop. The bedâs a kingâsheâs used to her space and she doesnât need to sleep close to himâbut Michelle squirms into the warmth his body radiates. He stirs enough to breathe in the scent of her hair, kiss her forehead, and thrust his hand into hers. Confused by the gesture, she frowns at his face, with its softly closed eyes.
âBy the way,â Peter mumbles, shaking her hand, ânice to meet you.â
Michelle smiles and pats his arm as he drops it over her, instinctively pulling her close.
#my writing#thotumn#peter parker is a thot#spideychelle#spideychelle fanfiction#peter parker#peter x mj#peter x michelle#peter parker x michelle jones#michelle jones#brad davis#been sitting with this done for almost a month lol
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qould... Wouldn't stable Wade Wilson just be.. Like, dead. Cause... Yknow...
well, if we're going for the in-canon explanation of why he's so freaky weird being that his cells are in constant flux then - oh yeah. yep. i think canon is really, really wishy washy about wade's powers and his biology, same as any superhero buuut... there's basis in canon that the only reason wade's alive is because his freaky cancer cells and his freaky healing factor are in a constant stalemate and keep each other in-check. so he's actually alive because all the cells in his body are freaky unstable.
chronically unstable man in every conceivable sense of the word craves stability more than anything. hilarity ensues.
i think wade's such an interesting character in that he's at war with his biology constantly. he can't be stable. it's literally hardwired into his body and brain. to the point where even the terrain of his skin isn't the same from minute to minute.
obsessed with it,, obsessed with it. that telepaths can't read him because his brain is ever-shifting sand. that a palm-reader can't tell his future, because his skin keeps changing. that he's grabbing and grasping for stability and wants to trust himself but is literally, physically condemned to instability and uncertainty.
man is doomed by his biology. i love him.
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40. Part 4
Looking down at the crib watching Reign drink her milk, she is growing quick to be honest. I did prefer feeding her myself, but she is refusing to drink, she wants to hold her bubzy and her bottle all by herself. Reign is just staring at me and I am staring at her, she is here trying to be independent and I donât like it âdaddy misses feeding youâ like where did she catch this from because literally in the morning I was feeding her, not tonight. She has seen her grandparents and is now acting brand new âI will wake up for her now okâ Nalah came back into the room âmhmm, well I moved the crib here for a reason, to be honest I canât rest now. I rather do itâ pouting at Reign âjust sleep Maurice, then you can be in a better mood in the morning. She may actually sleep well tonight so this is a bonusâ I could just watch her all day âthank god you put a baby grow on her, you are terrible. Like this roaming around in her diaper got to stop, she needs clothesâ moving back from the crib âwell she is me, if I am walking around in my boxers then she is walking around in her diaper so there is that. But I do appreciate you doing this for me, I have a lot to think about. Well dad wants to murder me first of allâ Nalah sniggered âhe does, never thought dad would want to do that to his favourite child but he does, I think he just wanted you to settle. That is it and you found it, then you ruined it so he is annoyed. So leave her now, you go and rest up. Also, Robyn posted a picture, you might want to snoop on that but leave her ok? Just let her do her thingâ nodding my head âI willâ looking down in the crib âgoodnight Mi Amor, daddy will see you in the morning and we can do some fun things togetherâ reaching down and stroking the side of her face, Reign moved her bottle away from her mouth âno baby, you drink itâ she is here offering it me âyou are growing too quick relax for me, I love youâ I better go to bed then âgoodnight, and get me if you need anythingâ walking out of the bedroom, I need to rest actually.
Shit is weird now, rather lonely actually. Pulling my covers over my legs, let me catch up with my messages. My dad wants me to tell Robyn what to do, he wants me to tell her to move here like she would listen to me. But then I have to buy her a house, I need to discuss this with Wade. I would need to draw up real papers and discuss this, because if she switches up on me and doesnât allow me to see Reign then I will have the paperwork to go by, I just need to arrange a meeting with him. Once Robyn has finished trying to annoy my life, I will talk to her then. Unlocking my phone and tapping on Instagram, social media is the devil, like I am only using it to stalk Robyn, I mean she called Odell a stalker, but I am doing the same. My feed loaded up and Leon has posted a selfie of himself, they are in Vegas now. I just find it funny, because I was supposed to go there and itâs like it was done on purpose, I am not sure. Tapping on his story, so Robyn got some new friends. Her and this girl are close to be honest, they are always in the background. The next story played âday two of my besties birthday, how we feeling?â Leon said and panned the camera to Robyn, she looked at the phone and then turned away âa mess, stopâ I smiled, she is pretty without make up âwe shall see if my friend drinks today, she had a pre-drink already so yeah, Jacob how are we feeling back thereâ Leon lifted his phone up, his little friend put a finger up, he is not amused âwe could have taken the car!â he shouted and Leon cackled. The story ended, Robyn is drinking a lot like she is just drinking when she is not a heavy drinker, I donât think anyways, scrolling down my feed. Ally is actually going out for once, I want to comment saying did I approve this, but I wonât ruin her mood, laughing to myself. Scrolling down, Bonita is posting selfies now, this Asian chick and Robyn are close like she is always there with her, reading the caption âa little makeup hid a lotâ I read aloud, she donât need makeup but I guess it is what it is because she will be having fun.
âCome on!!â Asia shouted, drinking some more water before I ran towards the door âI am so not ready for this, like I feel tired. So, where we goingâ I asked, Leon turned around âlooking like a whole meal somewhere fancy, I got some tickets for 1Oak so we can party, I am glad you are drinking water. Keep it that wayâ I think I am going to keep it that way for a while, unless I am feeling myself which I will soon when I get there âdo I look ok? I literally didnât have the time to get a good dress out, this was so last minute, my boobs arenât leaking, are they?â Leon looked at my dress âyou barely have any but noâ he is so annoying âwould you like me take care of your phone for you? Donât want no dike app happening?â I laughed shaking my head âfuck you! Like seriously, it was a mistake. I canât even bring myself to text him back, I left him on a read. Like what the fuck do you say to him, like oh my god. I am shameful, I was begging for dickâ Jacob pressed the elevator button âand? Luckily, he wasnât in Cali or you would have been there, I just think better the devil you know. Clearly, he would have gave it, donât be ashamed. But from now on, you are known as dike app because that was hilariousâ the elevator doors opened âlike honestly get that billionaire dick, nobody is judging that, girl I would tooâ Asia said, I just get somewhat freaky when I drink and I want dick but I think I will keep my phone to myself.
I swear we just walked by Scott Disick, I had to double take âoh ok, we didâ I said to myself, Leon is always making us travel like where the fuck did he book us in, a table or what âcome, come. Here we areâ we have something to sit on, thank god. I am tired, sitting down on the seats and then looked up âso Leon just sat us across the hood niggasâ that is great, there are so many of them and probably sharing one bottle âLeon said, you can only have that one glassâ waving Jacob off âget me something more, tell him he ainât my dad!â I shouted, Asia laughed âyou have such good legs you knowâ she touched my leg, sipping my whiskey âI get that a lot, one time. This guy was trying to flirt with me and he goes I should be on a commercial with these legs, I said that was boring. Like come on, I want you to actively be like I want them legs around me, some guys are so lameâ shaking my head âthey are, I need you to be in my life more so I can find a man, the men just attract to youâ bopping my head âbaby! I like your style!â I sang with my drink in hand âI will get you a man, maybe one of those niggas across usâ I laughed, Asia side eyed me.
Placing the blunt between my lips watching OT Genasis do his thing, I didnât even know he was playing here tonight âIâm in love with the cocoâ I sang as I blew out the smoke from my lips âhit my plug thatâs my cholo, aye!!â I laughed at Leon âIf you snitching I go locoâ me and Leon pointing at each other singing, Asia took the blunt from me. We having to share this one, she is running low on weed. Bopping my head âIâm in love with the cocoâ leaning down and picking my drink up, I am only having one shot in these, no double so I should be ok âRobyn!â Asia grabbed my arm, picking my drink up and turning to her. She pointed, seeing this guy stood in our section âwhat?â I said to her âhe wants to speak to youâ she said, I laughed âme? Why?â I looked at him, he is not ugly but still I have seen better. He stepped around Asia âmy homie want to say you look good, why you ainât come here to usâ looking over to his homies âwhich one?â I questioned, I mean I am not going there actively but I am just asking âthe one in the white teeâ now he is even worse, I donât think so âtell him, when each one of his homies can buy their own drink and not share one bottle maybe thenâ looking over at this guy, he just stared at me like I swore at his mom âso you been looking?â he questioned âhard to miss, anywaysâ turning around, he can tell his friend whatever the hell he want.
Downing my drink, placing the glass down âI am goingâ I said turning to Asia âwhere!?â she spat âhotel, I am not feeling too good. Stay, I am ok, the hotel is down the road. Tell Leon I am going, he has gone, see you back thereâ holding Asiaâ arm as I stepped down âno, I will come with you. You canât go, youâre tipsyâ Asia grabbed her bag, I didnât want her to come, the night is still young âwe can text themâ nodding my head, I do need someone actually. I think I drank more then I should have, Asia and I linked arms walking around the crowd âleaving me there for? Leon and Jacob make me feel like a third wheel, girlâ I chuckled, oh my god I am feeling it right now âyou wanted to go alone, youâre drunk againâ I just laughed âmhmmmâ I did drink more than I should, again âI need to pee, you come with? Or stay here?â I pointed at the wall âstay, I rather notâ unlinking our arms and I went to the wall, leaning against it. Asia went to go and pee, lifting my bag up. Trying to find the zip âyou waiting on someone?â looking up from my bag ânoâ I said frowning âyou told my homie that I was broke, I am not brokeâ who is this guy âokâ I shrugged, I canât open my bag and this is annoying me âlet meâ moving my hand away and he unzipped the bag for me, looking up and seeing him âoh the white tee manâ I laughed âyou need a drive back? You donât need to be walkingâ shaking my head âI am fine, thanksâ all I wanted was my phone âItâs not nice to call a man broke, I was just interested in you, but you are stuck upâ is this guy going to keep on harassing me âthen move! Clearly I am not interested in you and your broke friendsâ Asia finally came out âyou will regret thatâ he said âkiss my assâ Asia frowned at him as she gestured we walk away.
I am so hungry âshall we find food? I am glad I met youâ we both near fell and laughed âno, letâs not. Robyn you are dragging me everywhere!â Asia spat, âno we are not, we are going back to the hotel room!â Asia dragged me to the opposite side âmhmm, well I want food, I will go to barâ entering our hotel, letting Asia hand go âmy heels need coming offâ sitting on the floor âyou canât be doing that!â Asia laughed saying âI canâ I said as I fumbled with the buckle âI am getting food hereâ I want food âwell I am going back to the room, you will be ok here then?â nodding my head âjust help me with this then you goâ I am fine here.
Pulling a face now hearing my work phone ring, that is too much ringing, first my family phone and now my work phone and I canât be bothered, I am trying to sleep here. Reaching over and grabbing my phone, squinting my eyes at the screen and it is Robyn calling me, my eyes widened at her calling me âhelloâ answering the phone, there was a long silence on the phone. I can hear the light chatter of people in the background, but I can hear Robyn on the other end of the phone âdo you miss me?â she finally spoke, hearing Robynâ voice in my ear, elegant but deeper than normal, if I close my eyes I can just picture her âyou know I doâ I replied back finally, Robyn hummed âMauriceâ she said in a whisper âI..â she drifted off âI want you to come here, I want you. I want you to fly here and teach me a lesson. I have my legs out, my side boob showing, I want daddy to fuck me. I want you to wear a suit and meet meâ I smirked, like I am not sure how to take this âwhere are you exactly?â I asked, like is she playing me âat a bar, I mean I could go back and ask the nigga that wanted me at the club but I want youâ she wants me to come where âwhere?â I asked again âthank you for the drink, and could you tell my dick appointment where I amâ Robyn said, what is she doing âyou want me to tell them where you are?â some guy said, I frowned âtell Maurice Davenport where I am, tell him for meâ this Robyn got me feeling a type of way âhello?â this random guy is on the phone âwho are you?â I asked him âthe bartender, she told me to speak to you. Are you really Maurice Davenport?â he spat, I can hear Robynâ giggle in the background âheâs my dick appointment, tell him to hurry upâ Robyn said âthe lady here, she is at the bar in The Cosmopolitan of Las Vegasâ is she now âwhat is she like to you? Is she drunk?â I asked him âerm, she is intoxicated yes, she is very pretty and is smoking and staring at meâ nodding my head âbyeâ he said, Robyn is in Vegas I am here, what she want me to do âI am waiting, every thirty minutes I will be drinking, so the longer you take, the more drunk I become, you make anything happen so make it happenâ she disconnected the call, is this even real right now.
Fixing my tie as I knocked on Nalahâ bedroom door, I mean I can make anything happen like having to take another private jet because mine is not ready âNalahâ knocking on the door again âcan I come in?â she needs to hurry, she is wasting my time âyeah come in!â opening the door âwhat are you doing?â Nalah said in annoyance âI need to go to Vegas, itâs an emergencyâ I canât see Nalahâ reaction from here but I am guessing she is not happy âwhy? Maurice, you have Reign here?â nodding my head âthat I know but I have you here, I need to see Robyn. She needs me, itâs important so please. Itâs not work it is Robyn so please look after her?â Nalah scoffed âsure, whatever she wants you for. Is that dick appointment thing happening then?â I shrugged âbut I will be backâ closing the door, I am wearing a suit like she wanted but if she is playing me, I will be so annoyed with her. If I could just run there I would, I canât wait to see her. I mean she wants me so of course I am going, I was so concerned about her with the texting business and if she was ok but she called me drunk again but she is my master and I am the dog, I am going there. I should be there max five hours, but I hope the jet can get me there even quicker, I can only hope because she will be drinking for every thirty minutes I take.
Looking down at my Rolex and itâs been five hours, I am wondering if she is there or not but she is not answering my calls, maybe this is her way to make me come back I am here now âthank youâ grabbing my bag and getting out of the SUV, I donât have the time to be waiting for the driver to walk me I need to go, this is a nice hotel to be honest. Walking into the hotel lobby, I canât wait to see her, I hope she is there still. I have missed her a lot, even though I am her dick appointment I rather be her dick appointment âyour bar?â I asked the receptionist âwhich one?â I groaned out, of course there is like six of them, I am tired, and I have rushed here. Getting my phone out from my pocket âactually, can you find out where Robyn is. Ask your bar staff, ask them in every one of them. A lady that has been there for few hours, pleaseâ the lady smiled at me âfor you sirâ they know who the hell I am, I would always be around here. I sighed out heavily turning around, I am very much tired but for Robyn I guess âoh shit, what are you doing here!?â looking up seeing Leon âMaurice, donât be angry with meâ I am annoyed with him âmhmm right, so you lost Robyn?â I said, âoh is he the dike app?â some guy said âwow, you really Maurice Davenport, wow. Hi. I am Jacob, we were there through the texting. So, the demon summoned you here?â he said âshe called meâ Jacob laughed âshe took my advice, that girl. I said to her have sex with your ex, better off that way anyways. Have fun, we are going. She is safeâ the guy dragged Leon away âI am sorry Maurice!â Leon shouted âsir, she is in Clique Barâ turning around âthank you! Appreciate it, I will be back to book a roomâ let me go and get her.
The bar is quiet, I mean people have left to go to their rooms but there she is at the bar. I sighed out, she is really here, and she wasnât lying about the side boob thing. Her dress is very revealing, walking slowly towards Robyn. I am guessing that is the bar man that spoke to me, they will be closing soon. The bartender pointed at me and moved, Robyn looked behind her âyou took your timeâ placing my bag on the bar stool âwoahâ placing my hand on her back âand you have been drinking since huh?â Robyn giggled âI guess my dick cameâ licking my top lip watching her get off the bar stool âlisten, I came here for you. This whole dick appointment thing is not the case, I came here for you yeah. I did miss youâ wrapping my arms around her âyou owe me a wedding nightâ Robyn stumbled âI owe you a lotâ the bartender came over âyou want me to put the bill on your room?â he said âI will pay itâs okâ Robynâ side of her face pressed against my chest, she lazily held me. Touching my pockets for my card âlook after her, we had a lot to talk about but she wonât rememberâ the bartender said, getting my black card out âshe is a sensitive soulâ I said, he just smiled at me âI figured form her conversation, and some guys tried to take her earlier. The knew her, got rid of themâ furrowing my eyebrows âwhat guys?â I questioned âI donât know, they said they knew her from the club, and it seemed to have followed her here, they was adamant in taking her, she said they followed her but she is drunk talking too, I just told her to wait here, keep her safe so we spoke. Nice meeting youâ he smiled at Robyn âyou got yourself in trouble?â I asked her, she has her eyes closed.
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Things Change, pt. 2
authorâs notes:Â this is only split into 2 parts because itâs kinda long. also, I hope the post-credits scene isnât too weird, I realized there was a good cut-off point but what Iâd written after was actually a good way to solidify a dynamic I like and therefore open up the ending a little more
content and trigger warnings:Â all of part 1, pre-story non-permanent character death, swearing, light sexual tones, implied depression
Yukio shouldâve known that you and Ellie being friends wouldnât bode well for her relationship with either of you. She takes a break to eat lunch and finds you and Ellie sitting together, catching on like wildfire - eating and showing each other memes on your phones. Doesnât take much.
âHi,â Yukio says, and the both of you turn to look at her.
âHey,â you both respond, glaring at each other before laughing.
âWhat, uh⌠What happened?â Yukio asks.
âWell, you asked us both to be nicer to each other,â you say.
âDonât be so humble, dipshit. She just saved my fucking life in training. Fucking Deadpool knocked Cableâs gun and made a shot ricochet off of one of the metal beams on the ceiling. It wouldâve hit me if Y/N hadnât pushed me out of the way. She took a pretty nasty hit. Show her.â
You stand up, Yukio sees the wide hole in your shirt, and she realizes she can no longer avoid the problem of her feelings for the both of you, now that youâre friends.
âJeez, you didnât have enough time to change?â Yukio teases, and you scoff.
âI was hungry. Crazy healing factor metabolism, and, of course, crazy healing factor stamina.â
âJust because we get along better doesnât mean you can more brazenly flirt with my girlfriend. Donât push it.â
âWho said I was flirting with your girlfriend?â You ask, popping up your eyebrows and failing to suppress a teasing smirk as you scroll through your phone. You could get used to this.
âHeyYukiocanwegotalkforasecond?â Ellie asks in a squeaky tone, at least, for her.
âSure,â Yukio replies  in a similarly-strained way.
âIâm sorry,â you say quickly. âI was just messing around, I didnât mean to make you uncomfortable.â
âNo!â Ellie argues. âYou didnât do anything, what you said just reminded me of something I forgot to talk to Yukio about this morning.â
âWeâll be right back,â Yukio reassures. Once theyâre out of earshot, she wonders: âWhat is it?â
âYou know how I have my freaky predict-the-future dreams?â Ellie asks her girlfriend.
âYeah... â Yukio looks at her warily.
âCan I tell you something without you getting mad at me?â Ellie asks another question, and Yukio just scoffs, rolling her eyes.
âOf course! Just get on with it, youâre making me anxious!â
âWhat if I told you that in some of these dreams, you and I⌠and Y/N⌠Are a coupleâŚ? Well, guess not a couple if itâs three people, but-â
Yukio sighs in relief.
âIâd say thank goodness, because I had no idea how to address the feelings I have for both of you⌠But you and Y/N have never gotten along!â
âWell, because sheâs, like, totally in love with you, and you and I are in a relationship, so⌠Pretty clear cut conflict. But, now that- I mean, sheâs just soâŚâ Her eyes are drawn to you, sitting at the table looking a mixture of bored and nervous. âThings change.â
âHey!â Yukio protests, giving her girlfriend a playful swat - Â so light it barely qualifies as one - on the arm. âFine. Weâll work this whole three-people couple thing out. But youâve gotta convince her,â the pink-haired girl challenges.
âDeal,â Ellie agrees with a smile.
~
You sit at a table in the dining room with Wade and Russell. Everyoneâs required to be out of their rooms for the event (unless accompanied by their parents or doing something quick like using the restroom) so that students are easier to keep track of, in case of emergency.
âSo, what happened with your parents?â Russell asks.
âKid, you have got to stop asking questions.The code here is, âAre you looking forward to parent-teacher conferences?ââ
âWell, weâre in the middle of them, so how useful is that?! I was just curious. Mine died when I was a baby.â
Lucky you, you think, before shrugging as if it will take away the dark thoughts. You envy him.
âY/N!â One of Yukioâs dadâs, Maxwell, calls out, and you put your upbeat face back on before turning around.
âMr. Kitsuna-Miller!â You respond, making your way over to him and his husband.
âWhereâs Yukio?â Daichi, her other father, asks.
âOh, she should be somewhere around here⌠She and the rest of the Welcoming Committee have worked so hard to pull this off, as they always do. Hm⌠You know, she might be meeting Ellieâs parents.â
âEllie?â Maxwell wonders.
âHer girlfriend, Max,â Daichi clarifies.
âBut I thoughtâŚâ Maxwellâs brow furrows and he limply points at you.
âThat may still be the case,â Daichi once again explains, and you feel your cheeks heat up. âThank you, Y/N. It was good to see you. Letâs catch up later, okay?â
You nod in agreement, heading back to your seat with Wade and Russell. You and the latter both sigh, bored. While there are plenty of kids here whose parents donât accept them or are otherwise out of the picture, there are also plenty here who are joyfully reuniting with one or more of their parents, and even some siblings.
Youâll never have siblings, now that your parents are aware of their ability to create an abomination. Itâs the only time theyâve ever blamed themselves for anything, and they usually just blame each other.
âCome on, you two! Letâs play some cards or something. Who needs parents, anyway? They suck!â Wade tries to cheer you two up, but only earns glares from some of the parents in the room who overheard.
âI wonder what they were like,â Russell says quietly.
âI wouldnât if I were you,â you advise him. âBuilding up the perfect parents in your head to take the place of the ones that arenât there will just make you feel more alone.â
âWell since somebodyâs so good with words, why donât we play Scrabble?â Wade suggests, and you scoff.
âScrabble?â Russell asks. The orphanage wasnât exactly a fun-filled place, so introducing him to the random little joys in life has become a hobby of both yours and Wadeâs, as well as his other assorted acquaintances.
âYou take the letters youâre given and put them on the board to make points, starting at the center before you play off of other played words. Wade and I can go first so you get the gist.â
After everyone has their seven letters, you pull out your phone to keep score. Â Wadeâs puts down âRISE.â You put down âSEARCH.â Russell puts down âHOLD.â Wade puts down âELK.â You put down âELITE.â The game continues, each of you putting down letters and picking up new ones from the box to take their place.
âY/N!â You turn at the sound of Yukioâs voice. Her parents have found her, and you figure your hypothesis was correct: Ellie and people who must be her parents - a kind-looking man and woman - are with Yukio and her dads.
You lift a hand as a wave, turning around and putting down âPRISM.â
âFuck this! Youâre totally looking at the letters!â Wade complains.
âYeah, right,â Russell disagrees. âYouâre the one looking at the letters, I saw you do it when Y/N went to get a drink.â
âShut up, the trick is to get her to forfeit due to annoyance so we have a chance,â Wade stage-whispers, and you give him an attempted un-amused glare that really just turns into stifled laughter.
âY/N,â Ellie gets your attention, now. âMy parents want to meet you. I told them about today.â
âSeriously? It really wasnât a big deal. Russell, youâre on letter guard duty,â you assign, moving the box closer to the boy before following Ellie over to a larger table. Her parents are there, but Yukio and Yukioâs parents arenât with them anymore.
Time to feel self-conscious, you think, realizing youâre the only one of your trio whose parents hate you.
Ellieâs parents stare at you, seeming a bit awe-struck. You look to her for help.
âMom, Dad, no gawking, remember? At least introduce yourselves.â
âJosephine, but you can call me Jo.â
âGregory, but you can call me Greg.â
âNice to meet you both,â you say, shaking their hands at the same time.
âWhere are your parents? Weâd love to meet them, too, they must be so proud of you,â Jo says, and your pasted-on smile falls.
âMom,â Ellie hisses.
âIâm so sorry,â Jo apologizes. âI get so excited that I forget Ellieâs coaching, sometimes. I am really, really sorry, I canât even imagine not accepting Ellie or her brother or sister for any part of them, that must be so hard for y-â
âMom,â Ellie reminds her mother once more, this time a little more tensely.
âEleanor,â Greg warns.
âNo, sheâs right,â Josephine tells him.
âThank you so much for what you did. Youâre a hero,â Greg tells you.
âI wouldnât go that far, it was really nothing.â
âThanks, Y/N,â Ellie remarks, but thereâs no hostility in it.
âThatâs not what I meant, I just mean that I heal. Itâs not really a big deal, what happens to me. Iâm just a meatshield, I donât actually do anything,â you chuckle. You donât enjoy being praised for your⌠Condition. You know itâs not wrong to be a mutant, but that doesnât mean that it never feels like a bad thing to be one due to the negative thoughts your parents instilled you with about yourself.
âY/N!â Ellie scolds, looking almost hurt, but you canât bring yourself to apologize for what you said.
âIt was so lovely to meet you, Mr. and Mrs. Phimister, but I need to go make sure Wade isnât cheating at Scrabble. I hope you enjoy the rest of the event, Yukio and her committee worked so hard on it.â You restrain your pace as you venture back to the small table, but itâs hard not to run away from the group.
âThat looked awful,â Wade comments as you sit down.
âIt was,â you tell him. âIs it my turn?â
âDuh,â Wade says.
You put down âDYNAMITE.â
âFuck you,â Wade says.
âIâm rootinâ for you, Y/N,â Russell tells you, putting down âYES.â
Wade scoffs, putting down âSUCK.â You put down âTHISTLE.â
âThatâs not a word,â Wade says triumphantly. âI win.â
âUh, yes, it fucking is. Itâs like a thorn or bramble,â you correct. âEven if it wasnât, you wouldnât fucking win automatically, I would just have to put down a different fucking word.â
âYowch. Tough crowd over there?â
âSomething fucking like that,â you admit.
âBoardâs looking kinda full,â Russell notes, looking over his letters.
âYeah. Guess weâre done.â Wade pours the letters back into the box before a final count can take place to prove him the loser.
âAh, a forfeit. Looks like youâve won your first game of Scrabble, Russell. Nice job,â you tell your brother in arms - and by arms, dealing with Wade is meant - and the two of you laugh together. Now that thereâs nothing to do, though, you sigh. âCan I go to my room?â
âYou know you canât,â Wade tells you, sounding disappointed for you.
âBut what if Iâm going to sleep early?â you wonder.
âCome on, Y/N, just stay out a little longer. Get some of the whore doors!â
âYou mean hor dâoeuvres?â You ask the literally Canadian man.
âYeah, but whore doors is funner to say,â Wade tells you, before realizing your complete lack of humor. âJust go on to bed, kid, Iâll handle Colossal Hall Monitor.â
âThanks.â You plod out of the dining room and into the hallway, making your way towards the stairs. You hear someone jogging in the same direction, and turn to see who it is. Cable.
âWadeâs still in the dining room, but heâs busy watching Russell, so your hate-fucking will have to wait,â you wisecrack, and he snorts.
âI heard what you said in there, to Ellieâs parents. Thatâs real fucked up, you know that?â
âAnd since when is that your problem?â you wonder. Cable seems intimidating to most, but he doesnât really scare you. After all, itâs not like he can kill you or anything. You admire his strength and skill, sure, but thatâs about it for your relationship with him.
âThereâs a lot of people who care about you here. I get that your parents might be ignorant assholes, and you may not be able to die, but that doesnât mean you donât feel pain. That shot that I hit you with? Most people die of pain before they ever succumb to the actual injury. I knew about your healing factor before today⌠Earlier, I was apologizing for how it hurt.â
Youâre speechless. You nod in acknowledgement of his words before continuing up the stairs and to your room.
Once youâve finished your nighttime routine and youâre comfortable in your bed, you wonder how much truth there was to what he said. Sure, people care about you, but⌠Is it really that bad for you to not care if you get hurt? It doesnât mean anything; doesnât have any lasting effect. And whatâs with Cableâs sudden concern? Itâs not like he can relate, his parents love him dearly. Not to mention Ellieâs feelings towards you, all it took was one decision that wasnât even really a decision to change everything, or it at least feels that way.
You toss and turn with your tumultuous thoughts before eventually falling asleep.
~
Guilt from yesterday pools in Ellieâs stomach and makes it hard to eat breakfast. The way she paraded you in front of her parents like a show pony, the way she didnât even send a text to apologize for her motherâs ignorant comments, the way sheâs reacted to this whole situation, itâs all piling up and-
âHey,â you say rather gruffly, sitting down across from her. Yukio already sits beside her, and responds with a chipper âHi, Y/N!â
âIâm really sorry about yesterday,â Ellie says in lieu of a greeting.
âItâs okay,â you tell her. âItâs not a big deal.â
âWhat happened?â Yukio asks.
âMy parents and I were idiots.â
âThey werenât idiots, just⌠I hate fucking talking about this, but, Ellie, youâre gonna find out sooner or later, and Yukio already knows, so⌠My parents donât just not accept me. If they found out what I did yesterday, theyâd be so disappointed that I didnât die, and thatâs all theyâd care about. Theyâd probably throw in the m-word once or twice and then start arguing about whose side of the family is to blame for me being an abomination, too. So when your parents- So when they looked at me like that, when they called me a hero? It just felt⌠Wrong. Because all Iâm doing is⌠All Iâm doing is making up for existing,â you explain, throat tightening a little with emotion before you exhale.
Ellie doesnât know what to say. She never expected this; you always seem so happy.
âY/NâŚâ Yukio sighs, brows furrowed.
âFuck them,â Ellie decides her words. âFuck them, seriously. Theyâre wrong about you.â
âYou canât just say-â
âWhy not?â Ellie asks. âI mean, if youâre an abomination to them, then Yukio and I must be⌠I donât even know the word. Do you think that?â
âWell, no, but-â
âBut what? Fuck them!â
Youâre stunned into silence.
âYouâre great, Y/N. Youâre smart, youâre funny, youâre selfless, youâre fucking amazing, okay? Fuck. Them.â
âWell, Iâd rather not fuck them, if thatâs alrightâŚâ you reply, smiling a little bit. âThanks, I- No oneâs ever been able to snap me out of that so quickly.â
âNo thanks necessary, I owe you.â
âRight,â you remember, eyes downcast. Why else would she be kind to you, why else would anyone? Â
âBut thatâs not why I said that stuff just now,â Ellie adds. âI just- How do I even say this? I like you. I like-like you.â
âUm-â you start, looking to your best friend who also happens to be Ellieâs girlfriend.
âOh, no, she does, too, donât worry,â Ellie reassures and your brain turns to Jell-O at her borderline nonchalance. Your lips part because you want to say something - literally anything - and you blink at her.
âYouâre going to catch flies!â Yukio warns you. âCome on, you canât be that surprised, can you?â
âI can. Iâm⌠Me,â you remind them.
âUh, yeah, exactly,â Ellie says.
âYou-â you point to your former arch nemesis/third-best friend, making circles with your finger for emphasis, â-of all people should not be saying that. Weâve been making each other miserable since we met.â
âWell, things change.â
âYou just think you like me because I saved your life. Itâs not the first time itâs confused someone, and it wonât be the last,â you explain.
âYou should just tell her, Ellie,â Yukio suggests, and you wonder what sheâs talking about.
âIâm not telling her that, itâs weird,â Ellie disagrees.
âWell she would like to know about the weird thing that she should be told,â you chime in, annoyed at being talked about like youâre not here.
âRight⌠So, donât know if you know this, but I have⌠Dreams, when I sleep.â
âMost people do,â you reply with quirked brows, confused about what sheâs getting at.
âDreams about the future, jackass. And, according to some dreams Iâve been having recently, weâre all going to be in this kind of⌠Arrangement. And the arrangement is, for lack of a better word, good. So, it wasnât you saving my life that made me see you differently. Iâve just been having some internal issues that I finally got over.â
âWait, are you saying that because you had wet dreams about us having a threesome and you think theyâre the future and not just your brain processing your rivalry with me weirdly, that weâre meant to be in some sort of âarrangementâ?â Youâre skeptical, to say the least.
âThe prophetic dreams feel different, okay? And they werenât all-â She cringes at the term sheâs about to use before continuing: â-wet dreams.â
âBut some were?â You inquire, amused. Ellieâs cheeks turn red pretty quickly, the girl is a deep blusher and itâs honestly adorable.
âShut up!â She lashes out, embarrassed. âI mean, Iâm sorry, okay? For all of it. Can you just give me an answer?â
âAn answer?â She hasnât asked you anything, only made some confessions.
âYou didnât actually ask her out,â Yukio says quietly to her girlfriend, who puts her face in her hands and groans.
âDo you want to be a thing? With me, and Yukio? Like, a three-girlfriends thing?â Ellie asks, still not looking up.
âYukio, you havenât really said a lot. What do you think?â You ask your friend nervously. Youâre definitely into her, and feelings for Ellie are forming within you, especially during these past few days.
âIâm down, I told Ellie that yesterday. The conditions are just that she has to convince you.â
âBut- I mean, I donât have a lot of friends. If this doesnât work out, Iâll have⌠Pretty much no one. I just donât know if itâs a good idea, as lucky as Iâd be to be with you two⌠But if I say no now then that could also ruin our friendships.â
âDonât worry about all that, okay? I promise Iâll be your friend as long as you donât do something absolutely terrible, and even then itâd vary case by case. I love you,â Yukio reminds you of a promise sheâs made to you many times before, one sheâs kept.
âAlright. Consider me convinced, then,â you decide, a smile tugging at your lips. Ellie looks up at you and canât help but share in the expression.
âThatâs great,â she tells you.
âSo, what now?â You ask.
âUm⌠Finishing breakfast?â Ellie suggests. âThen room transfer forms, I guess.â
âSomeoneâs eager to make their dreams come true,â you joke, and Yukio giggles.
âSheâs not the only one. She talks in her sleep-â Yukio pinches her fingers a small space apart â-a little bit.â
âWait, you knew?!â
âNot that they were real,â Yukio defends herself against an embarrassed Ellie while you snicker.
âStop laughing, bottom,â Ellie jabs playfully, and you gasp.
âI doubt that,â Yukio remarks in your defense. âY/N⌠MmâŚâ
Ellie gapes at her girlfriendâs imitation of her, and the three of you laugh, enjoying the rest of your breakfast together.
After that, itâs to the office. Your request gets approved quickly due to the fact that youâre freeing up a room.
âI guess Iâll get packing, then,â you tell your new girlfriends, and they follow you to your - already old, now being moved out of - room. When you open the door, it hits you like a wave that this has been your room since you were ten.
The first thing you pluck from the wall is a framed picture of yourself and your parents. Before everything.
Itâs a bit sun-faded, and you study it for a few moments. Yukioâs head perches on your shoulder while Ellie mumbles something about your nightstand and a TV.
âYou were so cute. Are so cute,â Yukio comments, studying the face of the girl before the accident, before waking up in that drawer in the morgue, before the name-calling and the disappointment. Before you changed.
Your hands clutch at the frame to avoid throwing it, knowing she doesnât even know the full truth of what sheâs looking at - not yet - and Yukio quietly offers to take it away.
âThatâd be best, for now,â you admit, letting her well-manicured hands take hold of the last piece of who you used to be. She asks permission to show Ellie, and you allow her to, deciding to distract yourself with other pictures. Some are with old friends that have died or moved on from this place in other ways, others are with Yukio, newer ones are with Wade and Russell. Next, you take your clothes out of the wardrobe, putting the ones that are meant to go in drawers in your various duffle bags and backpacks and leaving your blouses, dresses, jackets and whatnot on hangers.
The girls mostly watch as you pack the materials of your life away, hearts hurting at the mutual realization that this is really all there is. There is no bedroom at home with your favorite stuffed animal that your big sister gave you that youâre too ashamed to bring but miss so much, there is no big fluffy dog to whine incessantly the first week youâre gone to school that will leap on you the second you get back, there is nothing, really.
Ellie kisses you first despite knowing Yukio probably should be the one to do it, considering your history - she just canât help it. She grabs your face and kisses you.
âWhat was that for?â you ask, stunned. Itâs been nearly silent while youâve been packing and sorting, so there was little to no provocation.
âI, uh⌠The more Iâve gotten to know you, the more Iâve wanted to. And Iâm getting to know you really well right now,â Ellie bashfully explains.
âHuh. Fair enough,â you decide, and she scoffs. Itâs not mocking, more of a sound that says âtypical Y/Nâ and makes you smile softly. The smile is kissed off your face by Yukio and replaced with a sly grin. âProbably shouldnât make Ellieâs dreams come true all over my clothes. Try whatever strategy this is later and weâll see,â you tease.
âItâs not a strategy, we just lo...ike you,â Yukio stumbles over her words and you blush a little.
âAlright, I think we can start moving the stuff Iâve set aside, and then we can get help with furniture stuff later,â you decide. The girls nod, and this gets done quickly. You send your new partners ahead of you to dinner, telling them you need to think about where your pictures and trinkets will go, because you do.
Eventually, though, you end up just sitting on the floor and looking at your new surroundings. It makes sense to move, the girls donât want you to be or even feel left out, but itâs hard to imagine fitting into this room with two other people when youâre so, so used to being alone.
But when thereâs a knock at the door, and you answer it to find Cable with some Command Strips - grumbling about the school having the budget to redesign their suits every five goddamn seconds but not enough to patch some holes in the wall from good old fashioned hammer and nails - youâre reminded that things change.
post credits scene:
He looks at the first picture you hand him, the one of you and your parents.
âHm,â he says, looking from the picture to you and asking bluntly: âWhy keep this one?â
You give him a pointed look.
âWell, if they disowned you, Iâd assume they surrendered all the pictures. So why just this one?â
You know a man like him wouldnât ask if he didnât truly want to know, so you donât bother toying with him and delaying the inevitable. Itâs not a secret, just the answer to a question thatâs never asked. âBecause I drowned in the lake in the background that day.â
âHm,â is all he says - he says that a lot, probably - before attaching new Command Strips to the back and putting it with the pictures Ellie and Yukio have with their own families.
#negasonic teenage warhead#negasonic x reader#negasonicteenageimagines#negasonic teenage warhead x reader#negasonic teenage warhead imagine#Ellie Phimister#ellie phimister imagine#ellie phimister x reader#yukio#yukio x reader#yukio imagine#yukisonic#negasonic x yukio#yukisonic x reader#yukisonic imagine#poly yukisonic time#marvel#deadpool#x-men#marvel fanfiction#x-men fanfiction#x-men imagine#wlw x reader#polyamory imagine
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 i thought you were his.
summary: youâve been put with the avengers to watch over Wanda but no one but you knows that. One brunette super soldier has a secret crush on you and gets jealous when one of your old partners comes to visit; Wade Wilson.
information: WOC!avenger
warnings: angsty, descriptive fighting, Stevie being a bootyface, and language (duh itâs Deadpool)
-masterlist
I was sitting on the balcony when I heard FRIDAY call out
âMs.L/N youâre needed in the commons, you have a guest.â
My eyebrows screwed together I never get visitors. I close the book I was reading and walk into the living room, where I saw a horrifying site. A familiar man in a red and black suit with a katana holster on his back, being surrounded by the rest of the Avengers
âWade?â I asked tilting my head slightly, causing the group to get behind the mutant.
âNo, itâs David Beckham you shit face.â He says in his natural taunting tone.
âI told you not to find me, why are you here?â I say walking closer before straightening out my stance getting ready for a fight.
âAh, now you know I couldnât stay away from you sugar tits,â He says being the annoying little shit he always is. I shoot him a death stare motioning that I mean business.
âAlright, itâs about Erik Lehns-â I cut him off before Wanda could hear him any further.
âLetâs talk about this in private,â I say turning on my heels walking back to the balcony.
I hear Steve clear his throat causing me to turn around. Steveâs hands are placed on his hip, with his left foot turned outwards.
âYou gonna tell us whatâs goinâ on here Y/N?â He asks.
I mumble to a quick âWait for me outsideâ to Wade so he doesnât see me put his âman crush everydayâ in check.
âNo, Iâm not. I donât think itâs your business to know why heâs here.â I say getting defensive about my partner.Â
Steve lets out a sigh, I see one of the hardest eye-rolls in history provided by Tony and eyes of disappointment and anger from Bucky, which made my skin crawl.Â
âListen Y/N we live here and I think itâs only fair we have a say who comes and go in and outta here,â Tony says standing beside Steve.Â
Tonyâs comment leaves Steve to continue on with his annoying rant âWe all want whatâs the best safety wise for the team.â He says giving me the concerned eyes he plays so well with people, but not me.Â
âDo you know how he even got in here?â I paused waiting for an answer. âHe surely couldnât have buzzed up, because doesn't work here. So, before you nag at me about the safety of the team make sure the building is secure so something like this doesnât happen again.â I end with a toothless smile before turning on my heels to walk to the patio where Wade was waiting looking through the window with his eyebrows raised.Â
I hear Steveâs dominant voice boom before I could even take a step âIf you walk out there I will have to talk to Fury about termination.â He says which makes me stop in my tracks and a smirk slithers its way on my face. I turn around sharply to face him.
âI would love to be terminated. Call him.â I say boldly before storming my way out.
I let out a sigh when I get outside with Wade. âI donât even know what happened in there but by the look on Capâs face which is very hot by the way, it was not pretty.â He ends with a low whistle escaping his mouth.Â
My eyebrows shoot up when I remember Iâm mad at him. I quickly snatch a katana out of its holster on his back and chop him in the hand causing it to detach from his wrist then slamming it into his stomach backing him up in the chair I was previously in.
âWhy the hell are you here?â I asked still holding on to my end of the katana giving him a deadly look.Â
Even under the mask, I can tell heâs in shock âNumer one: Ow that was rude and Number Two: I bet youâre happy I taught ya how to use that thing. You know for an extreme assassin I wouldâve thought they taught you about how to use katanas rather than guns and-â He rambles but I cut him off.
âWade not the time, you said something about Erik?â I ask, losing my grip on the sword.Â
âAh, yes I did but I would like for you to pull this out before I start buttercup.â He passive-aggressively demands. I let out a sigh and give him an eye roll before yanking out the weapon roughly handing it back to him.Â
âRight Erik, yeah he doesnât know about the mutant kids,â Wade says bending down to pick up his severed hand.
My mouth parts in surprise âWhat?â I exclaimed.
âYou know the twins-â He says and I cut him off
âNo shit the twins. I spend my time looking after both of them and he doesnât have the decency to remember.â I say leaning backward on the railing.
âWell, youâre not doing a good job seeing that one of them is,â Wade says finishing off his sentence dragging his thumb across his throat.
I crack a little smile at the dark joke âAhh thatâs the smile I was looking for.â He says coming over wrapping his arms around my waist lifting me off the ground. My arms fly to his covered neck.
âWade put me down!â I say with a smile on my face as he spins me around. He drops me on my feet.
âBy the way, they all verbally gang raped me I suppose they donât know why youâre here?â Wade asks.
As I open my mouth Iâm cut off by Natasha âCoast is clear, grandpa went to go tell Fury, were in the conference room.â She says quickly eyeing Wade. I separate myself from him and roll my eyes knowing what it meant when Steve ran to Fury.
âNo, they donât,â I say walking back into the compound.
Wade follows me in âSince you cut it off you wanna keep it?â He asks. I shake my head with a smile on my face.
âPut it on the coffee table, letâs hope it gives grandpa Steve a scare,â I say walking to the elevator. I hear a thump from the room and I feel Wade next to me. I push the elevator that comes freaky fast.
âConference room A,â I say unto Friday and the elevator moves promptly.
Wade gives an exasperated gasp âDaddy Stark got moneyyâŚâ he says extending the âyâ which makes me chuckle while shaking my head.
I take a deep breath before walking out âPut your business face on babe.â I say walking out the elevator.
Wade follows closely behind me as we approach the blacked out office. He opens the door allowing me to walk in first. Everyone is already seated when we walk in.
âY/N please make this quick, Iâm tired of Steve calling me about every little thing you do.â Fury sighs out placing his hands on his head rolling his eye.
I let out a little laugh âWith pleasure. I am not an Avenger. Never will be. I am an Ex-Assassin turned mercenary and Wade here is or was my partner.â I say with a smirk that slowly turns into a smile when I see the color drain from Steveâs face.
âIâm here because I was assigned as the guardian of Wanda on behave of Charles Xavier, Iâm just here to protect Maximoff. Wanda was the only one that knew why I was really here.â I say adding a little nod at the end of my sentence.Â
âOh so when Wanda was laughing at you and Steve argue it wasnât because she was crazy,â Sam adds with a grin and Wanda snickers across the table.Â
I nod with a smileâSo, when I would pick fights with you Steve it was because youâre not my boss and I didnât like you bossing me around, besides that youâre a good captain.â I smile at him. Steve gives me a toothless smileÂ
âGood now thatâs settled. What was it about Erik?â Fury asks disregarding the speech I just gave. I turn and look at Wade who is starring heavily at Steve. I hit him with the back of my hand.
âSweet baby Jesus, you know how to make men.â He says almost in a yearning tone. Wades outburst makes Steve pipe up.
Steve clears his throat before speaking âExcuse me?â He asks in his deep tone which causes Wade to lose his shit.
âI think I stopped breathing. I just wanna-â He says breathlessly before cutting him off before he says something too vulgar.
âWADE! Fury was asking about Erik, but I think we should discuss this in private, without Wanda around.â I mumble the last part.
âNo, Wanda needs to know about her stupid son of a bitch father whoâs trying to make mutants take over the world,â Wade says slamming his wrist on the table, revealing where his hand was severed off.
I place my hand on my head and let out a large sigh. Everyone is looking at Wade's hand well wrist with horror and confusion.
Bucky speaks up first âWhat happened there.â He asks pointing to Wade's wrist.
Wade groans âMiss wanna be Uma Thurman cut it off while we were arguing.â
âThatâs not the pointâ
âMy god Y/N you cut off the mans hand,â Natasha exclaimed crunching up her face.
âHe must have deserved it,â Bucky says coldly.
âBucky.â Steve warns while Bucky just shrugs and crosses his arms across his chest leaning back in the leather chair.
I shake my head and put my head in my hand.
Fury jumps in âI have been wanting to talk about your anger issues.â
I quickly get offended âI do not have anger issues.â I said crossing my arms across my chest.
Wade lets out an over exasperated laugh âThatâs like saying Chewbacca doesnât have a hairy ass.â
I scoff âOh fuck you, overgrown genetically modified avocado.â I say flipping my hair over my shoulder. Wade's mouth hangs open and I hear muffled snickers from the team.
âIf we can get back to business, that would be appreciated,â I mutter out seeing that I just proved their point.
Fury nods âWe should find him before anything-â
I cut him off wanting the conversation to end âWe will stay put. Wanda is in the system and sheâs one of the most powerful mutants documented heâll come looking for her, and thatâs my order as her guardian.â I say giving a nod âIf anyone disagrees come find me later.â I say about to walk out but I quickly stop myself âOh, and Wade stays.â I say before walking out of the conference room, not before catching the annoyed eye roll from Bucky.Â
Wade catches up quickly to me âYou where so dominant in there, you usually like to be dominated.â He says which causes me to pinch the bridge of my nose knowing were not too far from the door and not one but two super soldiers were in the said room.
âShut the fuck up Wade.âÂ
__
All was smooth sailing, I was keeping tabs on Erik, Wanda was safe and I went back to staying to myself and being quiet. Well, itâs hard to be quiet with Wade the loud mouth rooming with me. He wonât stop talking about Steve or his new friend Cable who he says is an off-brand, Bucky Barnes.Â
I told him to shut up numerous times and even begged for him to shoot me so I wouldnât have to listen to his mouth. After I threaten to cut off this tongue he started to talk to the Avengers, forcing them to listen to his rants on why Crocks pose as his masturbation shoes. After Tony begged me so I finally took Wade out. I took him to the only place he could wear his suit and have some fun. A gay bar.
I get all dressed up in a plain black mini bodycon dress and silver hoops and silver bracelets.Â
âYou take longer than Vanessa to get-holy shit balls,â Wade says barging in with a cleaned up suit and wide eyes.Â
I laugh while I apply lipgloss to my lips âPick your jaw off the floor, Wilson and give me those heels on the floor.â I say pointing to the open toe stilettos sitting by my closet. He brings them to me and I slide my feet in buckling the ankle straps.Â
âI havenât dressed up in forever,â I say smoothing out my dress over my thighs.Â
âYou look great, you would make drag queens cry. Can we go now I wanna see the fireman striptease.â Wade wines tugging on my arm.Â
âFine, fine let's go,â I say walking out of my room.
I walk out into the common room and was welcomed by whistles from Tony and Sam who were accompanied on the couch with Bucky, Steve, and Rhody.
Tonyâs lips quirk his smile âWhere are you two going with Y/N looking like that.â I smile bashfully playing with a stray curl.
Wade jumps in âThe club.â He says placing his red cloth covered arm around my waist. I laugh smiling at the floor.
âYou should keep good eyes on her, so you donât lose her tonight,â Sam suggests with a wink.Â
âI think she can handle herself, with her mediocre training.â Wade jokes. Everyone lets out a chuckle except for Bucky who looks sick with anger. His eyes dark while scaling up me and Wade's bodies who are pushed together. Buckyâs eyes finally meet mine and they soften a tad but the anger was still prominent. He excuses himself to the kitchen so we wouldnât see us leave. I shake off Buckyâs peculiar behavior and bid adieu to the Avengers.
The night was fun but drawn out. Wade had many drinks only when I had a few. It was fun seeing Wade flirt with guys and guys do the same to him. All was good until the fourth hour at the club. Wade decided to fulfill his lifetime dream of being a stripper. Thatâs where I stepped in.
âShows over boys,â I say dragging Wade down from the stage.
Wade's face looked shocked but I canât really tell with the mask âBoo youâre no fun.â I nod and mutter agreements.
We get in a cab and go back to the compound. It was hell trying to drag Wade around the compound quietly. Once we got off the elevator I didnât expect anyone to be up, but low and behold my savior Bucky Barnes sitting on the couch watching The Office. His head turns when I enter.
âHelp, please,â I beg trying to keep Wade's dead weight from falling on the floor.
Bucky lets out a chuckle causing a beautiful smile to spread on his cheeks âI gotcha doll.â He rushes over picking Wade off of me and throwing him over his shoulders as if he was a bag a potatoâs.
I let out a breath of relief âThank you.â I say pulling down my dress that had risen from the pushing of Wade's body.
âYou two had fun,â Bucky said more than asked with an eyebrow raised. He didnât seem genuinely interested he just wanted to talk.
I nod âYeah, it brought back memories from when I was working with him.â I smile while I and Buck walk back to my room.
We get to my room quick. Bucky plops Wade in the center of my bed and Wade immediately sprawls out taking over the entire bed.
Bucky lets out a sigh âThank you again Bucky.â I say putting my hand on his back smiling up at him.
âIt was no problem at all.â He says before walking out closing the door behind him.
I stare at the door momentarily. Something is wrong with him I just canât put my finger on it. I think hard about it while I change into some spandex shorts and an old thin college shirt.
âMaybe him a Steve got into a fight again, or maybe Natasha and him had a disagreement.â My mind trails off.
Wade snores on the bed and I shake away my thoughts of Bucky. No way was I was going to fit in the bed with him taking up the whole bed. I roll up his mask just to expose his lips and nose (so he could breathe) reviling the scarred skin I came to love.
I walk out of my room into the silent corridor.
Bucky must have gone in his room. I walk over and knock before coming in. Bucky was laying face up on the bed with his hands covering his face.
âGot any room for me?â I question which makes his head shoot up.
His face grows red âY-yeah, come in.â He stutters looking at me.
âWade took up the whole bed,â I admit walking to the bed timidly. He was shirtless with dark grey sweats settling on his hips.
The small smirk he teased me with made me bashful. I looked down at the floor.
âDonât get shy on me now darlinââ Bucky continues to tease scooting to his claimed side of his bed.
I pull back the covers and lay on the opposite side of him, while newfound butterflies make their way in my stomach. Bucky didnât move stayed still on his side of the bed.
âI donât bite Buck,â I say jokingly, he chuckles and leans into me a little relaxing.
My mind trails back to how heâs been acting âBucky are you ok? Youâve been acting weird.â I say propping my head up on my elbow turning towards him.
He avoids my eyes at first biting on his lip a little. âItâs ok you can tell me.â I comfort him.
He looks at me and sighs âThereâs this woman. Sheâs beautiful, confident, pretty much everything Iâm not. I want her so bad not just sexually I want her as a person. She rocks my world and doesnât even know it.â Bucky confesses.
I feel a fire in my chest, after his confession I donât know why. Iâm angry but I wonât admit it. âSounds like you have a crush.â I barely get out sounding slightly believable. Why am I acting like this?
âI think I love her.â He blurts out and looks like he immediately regrets it. I nod forcing a smile on my face.
âThen why donât you talk to her?â I ask softly trying not to sound hurt.
He shakes his head âIâm stupid, and I think she has a boyfriend.â He sadly says looking at me with his baby blues.
No, itâs not right. I shouldnât care if he admires someone or not. âJust be there for her Buck, sheâll eventually see you,â I say before closing my eyes wanting to forget about this conversation.
I woke up with my face pressed against a bare chest and a hand tangled in my hair and my pelvis connected to another. Buckys heartbeat is strong I could hear it. My hands lay flat on Bucky's chest as comfort fills my body he made me feel warm and well. I tilt my head up to see his sharp scruffy jawline. The dull sunlight from the windows highlights his face making him glow. I raise my hand and trace my finger along the rough surface of his jaw. He looks so calm with his pink lips slightly parted. His soft breaths match mine as I admire his face.
Barnes. Iâve never thought about his last name since yesterday. I wonder if the girl he fonded over first name went with his last. And I also wondered why my first name went so well with his last. Y/N Barnes. It has a nice ring to it. I thought about that all night, I even dreamt about it. I bring my face back into his chest and close my eyes. Maybe just maybe I could pretend for longer like I didnât care he admitted feelings for a woman I do not know. Just maybe I can forget the jealousy I felt bubble in my chest last night. But I open my eyes and realized that I do care. He was sweet without trying. Making sure I returned my library books on time, making me my favorite tea when I was to busy to make my own. He was always there for me and maybe I took it the wrong way. I always admired him though he wouldnât even notice, I was fine with that knowing that my glances from behind my book were secretive. It felt good having a crush on Barnes like I was back in grade school.
I took one last look at his face and I found myself memorizing it like it was the last thing I would ever see. I let out a sigh before gently removing myself from his embrace and his bed. Before I leave I share a confession with Buckys sleeping body.
âI wish I didnât have feelings for you Barnes.â
___
We caught Erik by me speeding up the mission and telling the Avengers to move in. Everyone was surprised by my actions even me. I had to keep myself busy after hearing the confession from Bucky. I didnât wanna think about him and another woman it made my skin crawl. Sp i stayed up 42 hours straight making a plan (that kept me and Bucky away from each other you at all times). Now that Erik was incarcerated, Wanda is safe meaning I could leave. Mission accomplished.
âYou sure you wanna leave with me kid? You gotta good thing going on here, free real estate, a job thatâs lleagle.â Wade asks sitting on my bed.
I nod folding my clothes on the floor. âYeah Wade I canât stay here any more.â I say getting off the floor. Wade shrugs and goes into my closet.
I let out a sigh walking to my room door opening it to see Steve.
âSo youâre leaving?â He asks which I only reply with is a nod. âWhen were gonna tell us Y/N?â Steve says in his captain voice.
I stutter not knowing the answer âT-tonight, or tomorrow it depended on how I felt.â I say playing with my fingers. Steve lets out a scoff getting annoyed âThis is hard ok I swear Iâm gonna tell them just let me do it.â I say placing a hand on his arm.
âYou better.â
He walks away from me and I go back in my room. âWade Iâm gonna get food you comin?â I yell through my room.
âYeah meet me at the elevator.â Wade says which was suspicious but I brush it off.
I throw my leather jacket over the plain black shirt and black jeans and make my way to the front.
âYou gotta be kidding me.â I hear Bucky exclaim from the kitchen but which makes me wanna go see whatâs wrong but Steveâs voice stops me.
âMaybe you can move on from this.â Steve comforts. It sounded like a personal conversation so I continue my walk to the elevator. Wade was taking a long time but heâs a grown man he can make his way.
Minutes pass and no Wade so I went to go get him. I was walking back to my room when I heard a loud Bucky âNo, I donât even care anymore.â He storms out the kitchen. He locks eyes with me. He looked angry and the hurt kind of angry. âYou.â He says walking towards me eyes straight and determined.
I take a few steps back as he gets in my space. I hear Steve telling Bucky not to do it. But Bucky doesnât listen. Bucky wraps his metal arm around my waist and pulls me into a hard kiss. I grab on his bicep to brace myself. The kiss was needy and it felt so good. I felt like I found something I didnât know I was missing. His hand came to caress my face as I leaned into him. I felt tingles cascade down my body reaching the tips of my toes. I was in heaven.
âI think I found something that could- damn it Iâm late!â Wade finally shows as me and Bucky breaks the kiss. I look at Wade who has Sam, Natasha, Wanda, and Tony on his heels who are all wearing smug looks.
âSo, that girl, It was me?â I ask looking up into his mesmerizing eyes. He sheepishly nods acting all shy like he didnât just give me a kiss of a life time. âBut I donât have a boyfriend,â I say.
âI thought you were his.â Bucky admits looking at a shocked Wade.
I smile in disbelief âGod damn youâre stupid.â I say shaking my head.
âSo, I guess this means youâre not leaving?â He asks giving me a smile.
âI wouldnât dream of it.â
#black!reader#bucky barnes#bucky barns x reader#bucky imagine#bucky x reader#marvel#avengers#bucky fluff
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New Years Eve
Summary: When the evil little voice in the readers head gets its way, she leaves the New Years Eve party Tony has thrown. It isnt until Bucky finds her all alone that they both face feelings theyâve been running away from.Â
Word Count: 3035
Authors note: Iâm sorry this is so rushed!! Iâm sick and dealing with a lot right now in my personal life, but Iâm trying my best!Â
Optional song pairing: New Yearâs Day by Taylor SwiftÂ
**if you guys reblog/comment on my fics thereâs now a 110% chance Iâd die for you**
You let out a sigh as you finally sat down upon the marble steps. For some reason how beautiful the building was only fueled your anger. You cursed Tony, of course heâd host a party in a place that practically looked like a palace.
Tonight was meant to be magical, but it felt anything but. It was New Years Eve, and you were at one of the most extravagant hotels New York had to offer, but it was five minutes until the ball dropped and you were sitting all alone.
This year had absolutely sucked so it only seemed fit it would end in the same suckish manner. Thinking things over you couldnât help but hear Natâs voice, sheâd be cursing you right now.
Nat would ask how you could be dressed to the tens sitting all alone, and sheâd call you on your bullshit. You had wanted tonight to be different, and youâd tried your best, but there wasnât music loud enough to drown out the voice in your head.
It didnât matter that you were wearing a sheer, rose gold-glitter gown that looked like something out of a disney film. It didnât matter that you were wearing rose gold shoes with detailed gold petals and vines wrapped around the heels.
To your mind it was all just a disguise, a beautiful lie. The voice in your head told you that you were plus size, and that nothing could make that beautiful. You felt like a piece of coal in a room full of diamonds.
So thatâs why you left the party, you left because you knew you didnât belong. It was best to get out before everyone else found out, because as awful as the voice inside your head was you could never bear hearing those thoughts spoken by real life people.
âHey (y/n) there you are! Iâve been looking for youâ.
You picked your head up and followed the voice, immediately wishing you hadnât. As awful as you felt, you knew you needed to mask your feelings. So you put on a smile and tried to sound convincing.
âWell here I am James, but arenât you missing the party?â.
As much as you loved seeing Bucky, you needed him to leave as quickly as he had come. Given your current state you didnât think your heart could bare seeing him. He reminded you of everything you wanted, but you knew you would never have.
You felt god was taunting you as Bucky sat down next to you. His smile was so inviting, âTrust me doll, youâre a thousand times better than a room of stubborn rich punks and fame obsessed damesâ.
He was making things so painful for you without even realizing. Bucky was just so effortlessly beautiful, from the way he carried himself to the way his smile made you feel like you were floating on a cloud.
It was clear that he was the sun and if you spent too long next to him youâd burn. As much as it pained you, you got up from the stairs. As you stood you began to fidget with your necklace, your body fighting against his clear gravitational pull.
You tried to sound convincing, âWell donât worry about me James, Iâm just down here getting some fresh airâ. Every word you said was a lie, you were all alone because you couldnât be in a room of happy, beautiful people.
As he spoke he loosened his tie, and for some reason it made you desire him even more. Bucky laughed softly, âI donât know how fresh the air is here, Stark said this building is like a hundred years oldâ.
Continuing the act you forced out a small laugh, hoping it would distract from your aching heart. You thought the talking to him would make it painful given how you felt about him, but the silence was even worse.
You were just left staring at a man who looked like an angel in a suit, and it made your desperation grow. Once again you told him, âThen itâs best you get air poisoning or whatever upstairs with everyone else than with me down hereâ.
Bucky narrowed his eyes, âAre you trying to get rid of me (y/n)?â. He asked with a smile on his face, which made things only worse. Your heart wanted him to stay, but the little voice in your head wanted him to leave.
He was beautiful, as the voice in your head told you, you werenât. So no matter what your heart said, you could never have him. Why would a rose want an average garden weed?
Fighting the urge to say yes you lied and told him, âNo...itâs just I feel bad. I mean youâre missing the party! I bet Steveâs looking for you or Wanda or-â. Now you were rambling, and that was dangerous.
But as Wandaâs name left your lips it stung, you were forced to remember how cozy her and Bucky had looked during the last debriefing. Theyâd sat next to each other, drawing little things on eachothers memos, barely holding back their laughter.
You loved Wanda, and that was why it hurt. You couldnât deny that she was just as beautiful as Bucky, and more deserving than you would ever be. So the moment you had said her name was the moment you began to crumble.
Bucky stood up, âDid something happen tonight (y/n)?â. For a second you wondered why heâd ask such a thing, but then you felt the familiar sensation of tears beginning to form. You stepped back and tried to build yourself back up.
âNo nothing happened, trust me Iâm okay, you donât have to-â
No matter what you said he still walked toward you and pretty soon youâd backed into an abandoned concierge desk, the marble of the desk cold against your exposed back. Now there was nowhere to hide.
Bucky took a step back, âDoll you can tell me anythingâ. Heâd just wanted to help, but he had no idea that would only make things worse. How could you tell him what was wrong, when the problem was how much you loved him?
He spoke softly, âPlease (y/n) I hate seeing you upsetâ. You wanted to cry as his voice was nearly a whisper, it was painfully clear how sincere he was. God, how could you continue to lie to yourself?
The man you loved most was standing before you begging you to tell him the truth. There was no way out of this. You let out a sigh, tonight would have to be the night. You told yourself that if things went bad youâd forget all this and force Tony to send you on some mission to Antartica or Space.
Your voice was barely above a whisper as you confessed, âItâs you James..itâs always been youâ. As you were only answered with silence you thought over the idea of moving out of the tower and moving in with Wade.
Bucky stepped closer to you, âWhatâs wrong with that (y/n)â. As he looked to you with a smile across his face you realized he didnât understand. You felt your heart shattering by the second.
âIâm whatâs wrong with that. Someone like you could never love someone like meâ.
It was a miracle that you've managed to hold back your tears, but maybe thatâs just because you knew living in the mirror dimension was always a possibility. Doctor Strange had always been nothing but nice to you, so why wouldnât he let you live out the last of your days in some freaky portal?
Finally Bucky had cut through the silence, âSomeone like me? Someone like you?â. He was trying to understand where you were coming from and what youâd meant. Youâd been so lost in your own head that you hadnât even picked up on the fact that heâd neglected the love part.
You turned your head to the side, âIâm not like other girls James..Iâm not as beautiful as them..and you can have anyone...you can have the most beautiful girl on the planet with the snap of your fingersâ.
As you confessed your deepest truths you couldnât bare to look at him. You were being brutally honest, finally saying out loud what youâd told yourself for years, and it was soul-crushing.
âWhy do you find the beauty in everyone but yourself (y/n)? Why is it so easy for you to see someone like me, someone whoâs killed without hesitation and ruined so many lives in the process, how can you see me as beautiful but you canât see the beauty within yourself?â
His words forced you to finally look at him, and you were surprised to see the pain in his eyes. Bucky took another step toward you, âI know what itâs like to have a voice in your head that tells you youâre the most undeserving soul there isâ.
Bucky was all too familiar with self-hatred, and for the past couple of years it had kept him awake at night. It had fueled his most painful nightmares, it had made him want to give up, but with the help of his friends he had given his heart a more powerful voice.
âBut you have to realize that itâs just a voice, itâs not real (y/n). Those things you tell yourself arenât the things that other people think, I know youâve convinced yourself that they are, but they aren'tâ.
Your surprise grew as he took your hands in his, and you could feel his emotions pouring out from him. Bucky meant every word that heâd said, and he wanted you to know. He wanted to be the person that broke you from your trance.
âListen to my voice okay? Listen to me. I love you. Iâve loved you since that night at Melâs after your first mission, remember that night? Some drunk idiot told Wanda that she should go mess up her own country for a change and without hesitation you punched the punk right in the faceâ.
Bucky began to laugh as he remembered things. In that moment you had been just like Steve; walking up to the biggest bully and handing their ass to âem. Â He knew it was cliche to say that he had fallen in love with a person in one single moment, but it was true.
You felt your hands begin to tremble in his as your brain tried to comprehend what was happening. Slowly and softly you asked, âYou love me?â. This whole thing felt like a dream, too good to be true.
Breathlessly he said, âYesâ. Once again you parted your lips to speak but nothing came out. For so long your heart had yearned to hear those words, but youâd never dreamed that it would actually happen.
As you stood there in silence the noise from the party seemed to get louder. The both of you could suddenly hear nearly a hundred people counting down to the New Year. It was clear that the moment was building, and you could both feel it.
As it was now down to the last few seconds Bucky embraced his boldness. Taking charge he cupped your face, delicately rubbing your cheeks with his thumbs. His face was inches from yours and you felt like a moth drawn to a flame.
3...
2...
1...
Knowing words wouldnât be enough to explain how you felt, you shut off the voice in your head and allowed your heart to take charge. With a smile across your face you leaned forward and finally kissed him.
His lips tasted faintly of champagne, and his hands had somehow managed to hold you both firmly and delicately. Just as you had always known in your heart, you felt both safe and free in his arms.
You pulled back only to catch your breath, the both of you panting from the climax of months of tension finally flooding forward. Bucky smirked as he watch you bring your fingers to your lips, touching them softly as if you could still feel the electricity of the kiss.
âHappy New Year dollâ he teased. Bucky couldnât believe how adorable you looked in this moment, as if kissing him was the most magical thing youâd done all life. Once again, you neglected to see your own magic, but he was working on that.
You felt the heat rising to your cheeks, âI know itâs fucking obvious, but I love youâ. You felt butterflies in your stomach as the words left your lips. Bucky was looking at you like no one ever had before, and for the first time in your life you knew what it felt like to be desired.
Now that you were starting to get more comfortable, Bucky was keen on teasing you. Besides, he loved how flustered it made you. He wiggled his eyebrows, âHmm (y/n) I still like to hear it thoughâ.
Now you began to laugh, âI love you Jamesâ. Although he was teasing you, hearing you confess your love for him did have an affect on him. Bucky couldnât get over how magical it felt to have such a beautiful girl want him.
Youâd been right, you werenât like other girls and you never would be. You would always have an affect on him that no other girl could have. He felt like a giddy teenager, âWell should we go back-â.
It was your turn to tease him, âYou said it yourself, itâs much more fun down hereâ. You felt your heart skip a beat as you watched him seductively bite his lip. Softly you added, âJames you are troubleâ.
Bucky held your gaze, âDoll youâre not so innocent eitherâ. Unable to face the fact that the closest thing to an angel earth had just told you that you were too seductive for your own good, you looked down at your feet.
By placing his hand delicately below your chin, he lifted your head up and forced your eyes to meet. More softly he confessed, âYou look so beautiful tonight (y/n)..like what a princess wishes they looked like...the second you walked into the party I just-â.
Playfully you hit his chest, âJamesâ. If he continued to confess things like that you wouldnât be able to control yourself. He smiled, âI felt my heart leap from my chestâ. Bucky didnât care how cheesy he sounded.
He knew youâd spent too many years hating yourself so he was determined to cancel out the evil voice in your head, and hopefully heâd get you to see just how beautiful you were. Bucky wanted you to love yourself, because he knew you deserved to.
So what you were plus size? Women werenât meant to fit some mold, they were meant to be women. He didnât accept your body, he loved it, because bodies donât need approval either. When it comes to the way someone looks, thereâs no right or wrong, thereâs just love.
Heâd had enough of society and itâs stupid demands and standards. Bucky had watched pre-serum Steve beat himself up for years because he didnât âfit the moldâ and it had driven him mad.
No one should feel that theyâre not the right shape, that theyâre too tall or that their complexion is too dark, people should be able to worship themselves for who they are. So, Bucky was hell bent on getting you to see yourself as the beautiful woman you were.
He wanted you to know why he loved you, so maybe you would start to realize the ways in which you loved yourself. Bucky knew it would take time, and he knew heâd have to take things slow, but he craved making you feel accepted and loved.
You werenât sure of what to say, and to be honest you were using all your energy to hold yourself back from jumping his bones right in the middle of the hotel lobby. So instead you decided to grab your phone and play a song.
âJames thereâs a thousand things I want to say, but my mind is a little jumbled right now, I mean no oneâs ever kissed me like that or ever made me feel so beautiful before-â.
For a moment you paused, you could feel yourself beginning to blush. You wondered if Bucky knew that this was a moment youâd remember for the rest of your life.
He took your hand in his and brought it to his lips kissing it. Bucky smirked as he watched you react to his touch, god you had no idea what was in store. He had caught on to your little plan, âCome here dollâ.
After pressing play you moved closer toward him, letting him once again take your hand in his. Placing a hand on your waist Bucky pulled your body closer to his, loving how it felt to hold you so close.
As he heard the song begin to play he smiled, âYou picked my favorite huh?â. You mind began to flood with memories of sunday mornings spent cleaning the tower. Bucky and Steve would always play old songs, and fight over who was the better dancer.
You licked your lips, âJust trying to see if youâre as good a dancer as you sayâ. Â In response he spung you out from him, and immediately pulled you back in. Leaning forward he whispered in your ear, âDoll you have no idea how good I amâ.
There was no doubt that his words had a double meaning, and their second meaning made your breath hitch. Bucky pretended that your sudden heavy breathing was because the dancing, and not because your mind was drifting to exactly where his was.
Bucky placed a soft kiss on your collarbone and continued to dance with you in his arms. He closed his eyes and let the music calm the pounding of his heart, because the woman of his dreams was finally within arms reach and it was more magical than heâd ever imagined.
please if you enjoyed this, reblog or comment! Itâs like giving me a virtual hug and a nice âdonât give up!â
#Bucky Barnes#james bucky barnes#bucky imagine#bucky x reader#bucky x plus size reader#Sebastian Stan#Steve Rogers
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Underfell: File Name not Edgy Enough #22
Chapter 22: Issues WARNING: I WANT NO RESPONSIBILITY OVER SPOILING THINGS FOR OTHERS. THAT BEING SAID, THIS IS HOW FILE NAME NOT FOUND WOULD FUNCTION IN THE AU OF UNDERFELL. BEFORE YOU READ THIS, UNLIKE THE NICE TIME OF UNDERTALE, THIS WORLD IS KILL OR BE KILLED. THIS STORY WILL BE GRAPHIC, GORY, USE SWEARS LIKE NOBODY'S BUSINESS, AND DEAL WITH SENSITIVE SUBJECT MATTERS. FOR EXAMPLE, THOSE OF YOU WHO HAVE READ THE FILE NAME RELOCATED SPOOF WILL KNOW HOW I PICTURE THIS VERSION OF LYNSIE COMING TO THE UNDERGROUND. IT IS NOT AN ACCIDENT. IT IS NOT BECAUSE OF SOMETHING DUMB. IT IS BECAUSE SHE CHOOSES TO END HER LIFE. SO TAKE THIS WITH A GRAIN OF SALT. I MADE IT BECAUSE I NEEDED TO LET SOME OF THIS EDGINESS OUT OF MYSELF. WHICH I GUESS MAKES UNDERFELL LYNSIE EVEN MORE TRUE TO WHO I REALLY AM. ANYWAY, ENJOY. ^_^ ------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------ To be, or not to be? To live, or to die? That is the toughest question of life. Is it nobler to suffer through all the terrible things fate throws at you, or to fight off your troubles, and, in doing so, end them completely? To die is to sleep because that's all dying is, and by sleep I mean an end to all the heartache and the countless injuries that we are vulnerable to that's an end to be wished for! To die, to sleep. To sleep, perchance to dream yes, but there's a catch. Because the kinds of dreams that might come in that sleep of death after you have left behind your mortal body are something to make you anxious. That's the consideration that makes us suffer the calamities of life for so long. For who would bear the whips and scorns of time, the oppressor's wrong, the proud man's arrogance, the pangs of despised unrequited love, the delay of justice, the insolence of people in office, and the general abuse of good people by bad when you could just settle all your debts using nothing more than an unsheathed blade? Who would suffer these burdens and go through a tiring life if they weren't frightened of what might happen after death, that undiscovered country from which no visitor returns to which we puzzle our souls about and which makes us prefer the troubles we know rather than to face the ones we don't? Thus, the fear of death makes us all cowards, and our natural willingness to act is made weak by too much thinking. Actions of great urgency and importance get thrown off course because of this sort of thinking, and they cease to be actions at all. Yet there is hope, yes? For am I redeemable or shall all my sins remain? Flowey watched as the human stared off in thought over the balcony that looked down on the forgotten city. She had slept through an entire day after Toriel found her unconscious in the basement. Her behavior after that seemed to return to her norm. She was still refusing to speak about certain things when the subjects were brought up. Very typical. But she was also trying to be a bit more friendly. She had made them all breakfast and lunch with no hint of a reason other than just because. She then went on with her normal routine of training to make up for lost time. He couldn't help to notice her stats weren't increasing despite her increased efforts in extending the time she trained. Though if it bugged her she didn't show it. She only showed complacency, as if merely wading in water that flowed all around her with no idea what to do next. It annoyed the hell out of him. If only she'd talk to him. [Flashback: Sans's sentry post] Flowey had shared many things he knew and in turn, Sans filled in some blanks when correcting was needed. Though it was kind of obvious that both parties weren't telling full truths. "she doesn't tell anyone shit, does she?" Sans was amused in his snowy spot, his feet moving left and right in a childish manner, that damn grin of his gleamed with gloating delight. He was relishing the power he had in this situation. The one knowing all the answers that others came begging to for his mercy. Sure, he was probably enjoying it a bit too much. But when was such a moment going to happen again? "*groan* No. That's the problem. She doesn't talk to anyone about anything...Except you." Admitting any of this made Flowey feel weak. He was there from the start and yet felt not as close as he thought he was. He was her brother. So why? Why did she entrust so much to this smiling asshole? Was he not good enough? Is that why she was replacing him? "Why? What makes you so damn special?!" Sans merely shrugs. "me? not much really. i'm just a poor boy, nobody loves me." That made Flowey puzzled till the grin of the skeleton grew larger. " he's just a poor boy from a poor family. spare him his life from this monstrosity. " Flowey glared. "You can't honestly be doing that right now." Sure, Sans wasn't singing. But the musical tune in his voice was just taunting enough. " easy come, easy go, will you let me go? no, we will not let you go! " "Oh my god, stop! You're such a douchebag!" The mocking cackle that comes out of Sans rattles his bones. But Flowey is far from amused. "oh come on. that was a good one. maybe you're just too chloro-full of shit to have a decent sense of humor." The pun made Flowey's eyes shine red for a moment before something flashed in his vision. Something familiar. It had him chuckling softly before laughing a bit louder and earning a look from the skeleton. "what's gotten into you, petal head?" "*snickering* I see it now...You're just like her..." That had the skeleton glaring and now it was the flower's turn to smirk. "Oh? What's wrong, Sans? Did I strike a nerve?" "*scoff* fuck off." "Hmmm...Maybe you're not JUST like her. You are way more abrasive." Sans sneered and picked himself off the ground. "we're done talking." "But I still have questions." "does it look like i give a shit?" Sans walks towards his station but his steps are impeded by a vine tangling around his ankle. "*snarls* i might not remember killing you. but i'm willing to bet if i rip that thing it'll hurt like a bitch. so ya got three seconds to lose it before i make ya lose it!" "Not till you answer me one last thing!" "then fucking say it!" "Who is Gaster?!" His bones went rigid stiff and the vine slackened as a response, Sans wasn't going anywhere now. "Please...Who is he? Why is messing with her soul? Why is he hurting her?" Sans is quiet for what feels like an eternity. So much is connected to one son of a bitch. "h-he..." His hands fidget, moving in and out of being fists. "he's someone you can't do anything about." That wasn't helpful. "What? What does that even mean?" "just...keep an eye on her when you see the handprints. if you care about her or whatever." The snarky bite he made at the end was less impactful than intended. Yet, instead of goading this obvious sign of the opposite, Flowey let him be and removed the vine. "Thanks, Smi-...Thank you, Sans." Sans lets out a gruff noise and continued to his post. "whatever." His behavior was odd to Flowey. Well...odder than what he knew of anyway. But he chalked it up to the nasty fight the brothers had and took his leave, returning to the Ruins with none the wiser. [Back in the present] It was so weird to have all these questions and yet wait on her to be okay with answering them. Even when it seemed like she was open, her guard always was up and the walls she hid behind were stubbornly strong. Damn it, human, what will it take for you to just talk to me?! "How long are you going to keep doing that for?" She spoke. Sure her eyes were still gazing off into nothing but she at least finally said something. "Doing what?" "Drilling into the back of my head with your eyes." Flowey glared. Not like she'll see. "I didn't want to bug you." "You weren't." He moved to be closer, at least to show up in her peripheral sight. "We're worried about you, you know?" "I know." He growled a little. "I'm worried about you." Her eyes delayed a blink they had started. "You don't have to bottle everything up or talk to skeletons. I'm right here. I want to help. I can understand better than you think." "No, you can't." "And how would you know?" "Because you just can't!" Her building attitude wasn't helping. "If you would just talk...!" "Stop it!" She spun around to him and now he regretted having her attention. Especially with those eyes glaring in mid-shift to another color. Very intimidating. "Do you honestly think you can handle the fucked up levels of shit that I go through when you see me like this? The reason I keep to myself is that one, none of you would believe me. And two, I don't need any more pressure on my ass than I already do. So for the love of God, don't make me open up!" Usually, such a rant would have more fire to it. But her tone held more desperation than anything else. She was on the verge. He could picture her flinging herself over the edge from stress. Maybe if he pushed a little more... "Look...I know it's bad, but I've been through some bad stuff myself." "I said stop! Don't force me to talk about my stuff when you won't about yours!" That made him confused. From what he talked about with Sans the two of them never said anything about the flower. "What do you mean?" Those eyes of hers, they were hard as stone and fiery orange. "I know who you are." He flinched at that. "W-What?" "Chara calls you by your true name. I don't say it because I've been waiting for you to tell me. To tell me because you trust me. Because you're my brother. I thought...I thought that meant something." The fire in those eyes died in slowly pooling moister and he felt as though he had swallowed rocks. "Lynsie..." "I get why you don't tell her. I mean, that's a messed up situation. But me?" "Oh, sure. Make it sound so easy. Hey, sis, how's it going? Oh, by the way, I'm Asriel brought back from the dead as a flower thanks to some freaky science experiment gone wrong! Yeah, that talk would've gone well." He was expecting her to snap back or run away to avoid further conflict. What he wasn't expecting was the look that came to her. "An...An experiment?" Why did she sound so nervous? "Y-Yeah." Her right hand, thankfully gloved, starts to reach for her left arm in a futile impulsive effort to claw. "Do...Do you remember who did it?" That was a good question. It had been so long since his 'resurrection' of sorts. Thinking back made his head hurt. Some of those memories, as bad as they were, seemed static-like and faces were either there or jumbled. "I'm not sure. I...I know Alphys was there. But...*strained* I swear there was someone else." Her expression grew more in concern. "Lynsie?" "Maybe...Maybe we do need to talk about some things." Hearing her say that made him unsure if this was the right call or not. But it was too late to chicken out now. She might not be this willing to talk if he were to turn her down now. Time to stop being a pansy. Wait...Oh my god! They're corrupting him! He punned himself! "Bro?" Shaking off that horrible moment, Flowey regains his composer. "Yeah. Let's go home. I don't feel like saying anything more out in the open. Know what I mean?" She nods and heads back home, him following soon after. This was going to be an interesting day. [Hours pass] Well, this wasn't how I expected the chat with Flowey to go. What I thought was going to be a light conversation quickly spiraled into madness. I wasn't expecting to be told, in vivid detail, how he died. Yet once the tap turned on nothing could stop the flood that poured from his mouth. I got lost in it all. Asriel was a rambunctious youth. Wild, prone to causing trouble and just a nasty little shit to say the least. As Price of all Monsters, he was entitled and would use it as his shield whenever something didn't go quite how he wanted it to. Though there wasn't much he didn't get away with. He was the heir to the throne and the only one at that. Few would rein him in when needed, fearing punishment for reprimanding royalty. Though none understood this behavior for the cry of help that it was. For all the power he had, Asriel was a lonely boy. Asgore and Toriel were always too busy. It's hard to take care of your child when you have to rule over countless people and tend to the needs of the many. So imagine this sad boy one day wondering alone, having escaped his escorting guards, and coming across a long-abandoned area. Imagine this boy's surprise to see light, actual sunlight, shining down into the cold dark depths of their home. To see flowers growing in this rare light, most likely from seeds that were lost in the wind. Now picture the look to come to this already mesmerized boy when something makes a pained sound from within the bed of flowers. And upon approaching this flowerbed, he found something odd...a human. A little boy, no bigger or older than he, seemed to have fallen from above to amazingly survive, albeit not unharmed. This boy was Chara, and he did not simply fall down. He was pushed. Turns out humans were just as cruel as monsters when able. A new lesson learned by the little Prince. But a thought came to him...Maybe this boy could be the end to his loneliness. It was not an easy time convincing the King and Queen to let the boy live. Sure, Toriel had a weakness for the suffering of a child. But Asgore? The guy suffering from the major butt hurt from losing the war? After such a past, no one expected him to even dwell on the idea of letting the human breathe for another second. Yet...the King was the one to give this human mercy. Odder still, it was the King that took in this child. Not as family. Not yet. There is no honor in the slaughter of children, especially when they can't even move. The child would be allowed to live and grow, to become a man, to be a real opponent worth fighting to prove that monsters WERE capable of defeating humans and could take back the land under the sun that was rightfully theirs. At least...That was the plan. As time passed, Chara became less of a hated future enemy and more of a household pet. A toy that kept Asriel in line by keeping him entertained. Toriel did not take to such a role for the child. A kid was a kid like any other to her. She raised Chara as if he were her own. Asgore, for all his high and mighty death to humans bull crap, eventually came around to this way of thinking. Something about Chara, he was always smiling and could turn a bad moment into something less negative or at least funny. How could can one come to hate someone that makes no sin? However, there was one that did grow to hate this kind soul. His best friend. Asriel never intended to resent Chara. But the more Chara was accepted into the family, the more ostracized Asriel felt. It started with little things, things one would think they were overreacting to like who got to lick the bowl of pie filling or who got a longer hug. Silly things like that. Then it became more personal. Words of praise and acknowledgment, things HE as their child should've been given, were given to Chara. To this human. It made him sick, souring the once sweet friendship. Asriel would then do would he could to ruin Chara in the eyes of his parents. Staging pranks or taking things to then trace it back to the human. Asriel, however, was not the best at this and would easily be found out and further cast in shadow by his family as the black sheep. This lead the boy down a very dark road. One that would haunt him to this day. In a silly attempt to blame Chara for yet another joke, Asriel discovered the awful effects of the buttercup flower. He had placed a few in one of his mother's pies and Asgore became incredibly ill. Yet while the opportunity to fault Chara for this was there, Asriel didn't use it. Instead, Asriel, a boy twisted by jealousy and desperation, came up with a very bad idea. Some time passed and Asgore recovered, life went on as normal. Seeing as this was a good enough time to do this, Asriel made his 'adoptive sibling' some tea...made with buttercups. The plan was to make the human sick. To show that this favorite child wasn't perfect and could be brought to their knees. He had learned from the pie incident and used the same amount of flowers as he had then. But Asriel was not known for thinking things out so thoroughly. What was a bad case of food poisoning that was over within a few days to a fully grown Boss Monster was a death sentence to a small human and it wasn't long before that became very clear. Chara didn't have much time left. Not even the kingdom's best healers could do anything about the toxins as they painfully brought the boy closer to death's door. Toriel was distraught, Asgore doing his best to be supportive. And Asriel, seeing the results of his actions, was consumed by guilt. It wasn't supposed to be like this. All he wanted was his family and a friend, yet he had destroyed both with a cup of buttercup tea. He had to do something to make this right. He couldn't heal Chara, he knew that much, but maybe there was something the human wanted that he could provide. A last request made for his redemption. When his parents left the room, Asriel made his confession and begged for forgiveness, telling Chara that if there was anything he wanted his brother would grant his wish. Chara, slipping in and out of consciousness, mumbled of a meadow in his old village that had the most enchanting view of the sun as it traveled across the sky. How nice it would be to see that place again but with his new family. The weight in Asriel gut grew worse to these words. But he was unable to speak further to his friend. A soft breath was the last sound made and the boy named Chara was no more. All that remained was a body...and a red soul. This was his moment of redemption. Asriel would grant this wish. Chara would once more be in that meadow and under that sun-filled sky. Driven by this determined need, Asriel took Chara's soul and absorbed it, merging with it to become a being of great power. With this new form, Asriel took Chara's body and was able to escape the confines of the barrier. Somehow, he knew where to go. He wasn't sure how, but he did. It had been ages since a monster walked upon the land with the sun on their face. The world was beautiful to the new eyes of Asriel. And when he arrived at the meadow Chara mentioned, he had to admit it was no exaggeration. Lost in the wonder of it all, he did not notice the group of children headed his way or when they ran back in fear upon seeing him. Only when he heard the demanding shouts did panic begin to sink in. He tried to explain why he was there, but one look at the limp body of a long-time missing child in his arms had the mob convinced of the monster's intentions. The attack was wild and without mercy. His instincts demanded he fight back, to defend against this wrongful onslaught, yet something was holding him back. Whispers of Chara's voice restraining him from making a move in violence. The only option was the flee. And flee he did all while still being struck. By the time he returned to the mountain, he was a broken and bloody mess. Still clutching Chara's body, Asriel used the last of his strength to return home. He was greeted by the at first relived and then horrified faces of his parents. The end was near, his soul took too much damage, but despite it all...He smiled and dusted. That was messed up on its own. The next parts were just as weird. 'Cause, you know, he was dead and now isn't. He remembered it being dark for a very long time. Nothing unpleasant or pleasant. Just darkness. Then out of the blue, he felt this odd compulsion to open his eyes. He woke up in the royal garden, alive once more. He was so scared. He couldn't feel his arms or legs. His entire body had turned into a flower. Panicked, he called out for help. But nobody came. Eventually, the King found him crying in the garden. He explained to his father what had happened to him. the feared King held his floral son with tears in his eyes, saying how everything was going to be alright. Asgore was so...Emotional. But...For some reason...Asriel didn't feel anything at all. As time passed, he soon realized that he didn't feel ANYTHING about ANYONE. His compassion had disappeared. And it's not like he wasn't trying. He spent weeks with his father, vainly hoping he would feel something. But it became too much for him. He ran away from home. Eventually, he reached the RUINS. Inside he found HER, his mother, Toriel. He thought of all people, SHE could make him feel whole again. But as with his father...She failed. He became despondent. There were no feelings for them. Just simple family attachment. He just wanted to love someone. He just wanted to care about someone. But he couldn't. He decided...This wasn't a life worth living anymore. Not in a world without love. Not in a world without his family...without Chara. So...He decided he would erase himself from existence. And you know what? He succeeded. He died again. But as he left this mortal coil...He started to feel apprehensive. Flowers aren't known to have SOULs. So...If you don't have a SOUL, what happens when you...? Something primal started to burn inside him. No...He didn't want to die. He refused. Then he woke up. Like it was all just a bad dream. He was back in the garden. Back at his "save point". Curious, he decided to experiment. Again and again, he brought himself to the edge of death. At any point, he could have let this world continue on without him. But as long as he was determined to live...He could come back. Amazing, isn't it? The power known as RESET. He was amazed too. At first, he used his powers for good. He became "friends" with everyone. He solved all their problems flawlessly. Their companionship was amusing...For a while. As time repeated, people proved themselves predictable. What would this person say if he gave them this? What would they do if he did this to them? Once he know the answer, that's it. That's all they are. It all started because he was curious. Curious what would happen if he KILLED them. He told himself that he didn't WANT to do this. That he was only doing so to know what would happen for doing it. What he didn't expect was how liberating it was to act that way. Though another thing he didn't expect was the incredible backlash that followed his only attempt at a pure genocide of all things over a slow and painful time. For there was one who made him regret this path over and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over, and over again! To the point where he gave up on killing altogether. It wasn't worth the intense hassle of all the deaths. So he was back at square one. He had done everything this world had to offer. He read every book. He burned every book. He won every game. He lost every game. He appeased everyone. He almost killed everyone. Sets of numbers...Lines of dialogue...And now restricted activities. This was it. The last thing he hadn't done was actually try to live like a flower. He moved back to the Ruins, the place where he found Chara, and was ready to remain there for the rest of his days. That is until another human fell...Frisk. But I've heard enough about Frisk from a certain skeleton. And now that skeleton needs to explain a few things to me that he seemed to conveniently leave out of our previous conversations. Like somehow I've become the being that's in control of the timeline! That crap aside, the parts about how he became a flower were fuzzy like he said earlier. The most he could tell me where the clues he found on his own, like his dust being on the seed of the flower that was then injected with super high doses of concentrated DETERMINATION extract so that triggered his remnants to reform in this body. Alphys was involved based on his memory of her checking on him while he was with Asgore. Yet he claims to recall someone else. A male presence that he can't rightly place. This is where I try to fill in what I can with what I know of Gaster. Considering how he was the former Royal Scientist, it's kind of obvious. I then let him in on some of what Gaster has been doing with me and how it was my idea. His concern for me after hearing his backstory makes me question his claim of being unable to care about anything. Because he clearly cares for me. Yet I don't bring this up. That's something to bring up at a later time. This talk is for the best on both our ends. It helped him vent a lot, and I mean a LOT, of his pent up pain that wouldn't go over well with anyone else. And I got to rebuild a bond with my flower-goat-bro that was beginning to strain under pressure. The rest of the day is pleasant. Toriel picks up on our good vibes and is pleased by our new friendliness. The warm family moments by the fire as she reads to us cast her face in a glow of motherly joy. And that warmth stayed with her as time went on. However, I am now a bit of mind fucked due to Flowey's story and the thought of losing a few brain cells in Grillby's delicious concoctions sounds so good right now. With a very strong amount of begging and reassuring, Toriel grants my request to go into town for a little bit. After all, she knows of the location where I'll be and who is going to be around me. Flowey, of course, accompanies me in his pot that is snugly nestled in my backpack. I'm given the strict curfew of returning home before 9 pm. That's fine. I intend to fast travel anyway. "Remember to call when you get there and when you begin to leave." "Yes, Nanny." "I am merely reminding you. Sometimes you forget." "I'm sure Flowey will keep me from forgetting." "I'm not your personal reminder." "But you do it so well." He nips my ear and I snicker. "We'll be back before dinner, Nanny. Can I bring you back anything?" She shakes her head with a smile. "No, dear. You just enjoy yourself and tell that bartender friend of yours to behave." I snicker and she helps me open the door. "Take care, young one." "You too, Nanny." The door is closed behind me and I shiver a little bit. "Fuck, I forgot about the cold." "How did you do that? The town's name has snow in it." "To be fair, a lot of stuff has been on my mind." "True. I can't fault you there." "Either way...Onward, my brother! We shall find our wary comrade and be taken to yonder tavern." "...You have got to be the biggest dork on the planet." "Enough chatter. Time is wasting and we only have a few hours." "Then you better move it, slowpoke." With that, I'm off on this little mini-adventure. Funny enough, a very annoying obstacle is no longer one anymore. The gate Papyrus made that was on the bridge was rendered useless by Toriel, as in he rampage, she burned a massive chunk out of it and you can just walk on through with ease. However, arriving on the other side greets me with the sight of Sans's sentry post...unattended. "He's probably at Grillby's. You know how he is about working." "Damn. Now we have to walk." I groan and trudge my way forward. At least this time around I know I won't get fucked with. After the Toriel's stunt, no monster would have the balls to mess with her kid. Though that doesn't stop some from giving me nasty looks from within the trees. To no one's surprise, Papyrus is at his station. But he hasn't noticed me and something seems...off. He looks distant. Like his mind is somewhere else right now. Flowey, understandably, hides in the pack when I make my approach. "Papyrus?" His eyes seem to come alive at the voice of his name, though, seeing me as the one to say his name dulls them out in melancholy once more. "OH...IT'S YOU. *SIGH* SANS DID SAY YOU WOULD RETURN SOONER OR LATER. GUESS HE WAS RIGHT ABOUT SOMETHING FOR ONCE." He doesn't sound so good. And even though he's been a MASSIVE prick to me in the past...I can't help this part of me that feels bad seeing him like this. "Are you alright?" "NEVER BETTER." He sounds so empty. "Papyrus, did something happen?" He shoots me a glare but it's so weak a child wouldn't be scared of him. "WHAT DO YOU CARE?" "As ludicrous as it may seem, I actually like to think of you boneheads as almost friends. Granted, not the nicest kind, but still..." "GET TO YOUR INSANE POINT, HUMAN. YOU'RE ANNOYING ME." Annoying him? Normal Papyrus would've hit me by now. Something isn't right. "Did something happen with Sans?" He flinches at that and looks away from me. "Papyrus?" "GO AWAY." "No. I want to help." "I DON'T NEED YOUR HELP. THERE'S NOTHING TO HELP ME WITH. NOW JUST LEAVE ME ALONE." "That's clearly a crock of shit and you know it." He growls, only somewhat holding the danger he usually has. "You know I'm not leaving till you tell me. My stubbornness is legendary." He snarls for a moment before giving in with a huff. "FINE. YOU INSTANT LITTLE NAT. IF YOU MUST KNOW...SANS AND I HAD A FIGHT." I fold my arms. "Verbal, physical, mental, or emotional?" He eyes me. "A BIT OF ALL IT IF YOU WILL." I shake my head. "So what happened?" "THERE WAS, LET'S SAY, AN EXCHANGE OF WORDS THAT WERE SAID THAT SHOULD NOT HAVE BEEN SAID." "And? What did you say?" He takes offense to this accusation. "THE HELL? WHAT MAKES YOU THINK THAT I, THE GREAT AND TERRIBLE PAPYRUS, AM THE ONE AT FAULT HERE?" You usually are, dip shit. "Call it a hunch." "*SNARL* WELL FUCK YOU AND YOUR HUNCH. I DIDN'T SAY A DAMN THING. SANS DID." "Right..." "HE DID! THAT'S WHY HE ISN'T AT HIS POST! THAT'S WHY HE ISN'T AT HOME! THAT WHY HE HASN'T BEEN ANSWERING MY CALLS. THAT'S WHY...HE'S BEEN AVOIDING ME." His words drain out of him with a heavy sadness. Whatever went down between these two, it was bad. "Pap...Do you know where he is?" He rubs his chin a bit before resting his jaw in his palm. "HE'S TAKEN TO HIDING AWAY AT GRILLBY'S. I'VE SEEN HIM THROUGH THE WINDOW. AT THE VERY LEAST, I HOPE HE'S WORKING OFF HIS DEBT WHILE THERE." Maybe this is a chance to smooth things over with this spooky scary skeleton and spark a truce. "Tell ya what...It just so happens that I'm heading to the bar right now." "*SARCASM* OH YOU DON'T SAY." Ignore it, Lynn, he's upset and you do the same emo bull crap when you're butt hurt in the feels. "Heh, very cute. But for real, I'm going over there and I don't see why I can't chat your bro up for a while. Maybe put in some good words for you and get him to come home." That gets some hope to come to his sour face. "R-REALLY?" I shrug like it's nothing. "Sure, why not? I'm a sucker for doing the right thing anyway. Besides, it's just him and you in the crazy world. Family needs to stick together. We can't have a little spat ruin that." He gives me a questionable look. "What?" "WHAT'S YOUR ANGLE?" "Huh?" "WHY WOULD YOU HELP ME AFTER EVERYTHING I'VE DONE TO YOU? HOW DO I KNOW YOU REALLY INTEND TO AID ME? YOU PROBABLY WANT A REWARD OR...OR YOUR TRUE GOAL IS TO MAKE THE SITUATION EVEN WORSE THAN IT ALREADY IS!" I slap my palm to my face. "My god...You have learned fuck all since knowing me." "BITCH I'VE LEARNED PLENTY." I forget that sometimes Papyrus needs to be handled with the direct approach. So I grab his face and lock eyes with this numskull. "Get it through your thick skull. I am not your enemy. I am not the bad guy. I want to help you because for whatever reason I happen to like you. I don't want a reward. All I want is your trust. Is that clear?" His eyes widen and a faint red color graces his cheekbones. "YOU...YOU LIKE ME?" My brain instantly shuts down all rational thought. Gone goes any processing power towards things that would register this as something innocent. Unfiltered thought has me getting flustered, my face getting hot and I let him go to start sprinting for the town without another word being said. "Uh...What was that about?" "Couldn't think. I panicked." "So you couldn't just say 'as a friend'?" "I panicked!" "At least slowdown. Holy fuck! Watch out for the ice!" [Twenty minutes of miscellaneous ice, snow, and dog incidents later] I am cold. Bruised. Pissed off. And frankly getting too cheesed for this bullshit anymore. With what little of my nice temperament I have left in me, I resist the urge to flip off every monster I see in the street and beeline my ass to the bar. I swear to god, if anyone other than Grillby or Sans talks to me before I get a drink I am going to lose my ever-loving shit! The door is flung open harder than I meant and the bell nearly comes off, though its ringing doesn't miss a beat. Not a sound is made while I go to my usual stool. Sans is seated beside, his head slumped into one of his arms, possibly sleeping, while the other clutches a bottle of spicy spirited mustard. Poor guy looks like he spent days beating himself up. "What's wrong, pussycat? Not happy to see me?" Grillby leans on the counter's top, one of his hands comes up to lightly stroke my cheek. "I'm beginning to think you're upset with me. You haven't responded to any of my calls or messages." That makes me look at him funny. "You've called me?" He pauses. "You didn't know?" I pull out my cellphone and scroll through it. There's nothing. So this gets me thinking. "Yo, bro. Has mom had my phone at all since we've been home?" Much to Grillby's surprise, Flowey pokes his head out of the pack. "I remember seeing her with it a few times." "Ah, makes sense now." I put it away. "Sorry, Grillz. Nanny's been blocking you without me knowing." He pouts a little bit but shrugs. "It's fine, pussycat. I get it. After the fit she had thinking you were lost, this doesn't shock me at all." He kisses my forehead. "Though you showing up has made it up to me slightly." "Slightly?" He smirks. "Well, you can do something for me that would be a good start in making things up to me." "Like what?" "For starters...Your uniform came in. Remember? I want to see if it fits." "Oh yeah. The ominous uniform. I've been both curious and dreading it." "Go inside. I'll get it for you in a moment." I nod and do as told. "Ah ah, dear. Leave your brother here." Flowey looks at us funny. "What? Why?" "That, little man, is an employee-only area. Your sister works here, so she can enter. You on the other hand..." I slip the pack off. "Sorry, bro. But no worries. No one will bug you here. He'll make sure of it. Won't you, hot stuff?" I hand him over to Grillby before heading into his inner home. "You know it, pussycat. Heh...heh...The things I do for you." I give him a wink and enter his lair. I trust Grillby to keep Flowey safe. If he knows what's good for him and wants some of my TLC then he'll be smart by not displeasing me. Entering the living space, an out of place purple box decorated in spider silk. It's very pretty. Be a shame to rip that apart. I'm easily distracted enough that when the feeling of hands comes around my waist I nearly have a mini heart attack and t makes Grillby laugh. "Easy, pussycat. It's only me." "For fuck's sake...Please don't do that again." He chuckles into my hair as I lean back on him. "You seem stressed. Did Toriel finally notice my mark?" "Yeah, but she doesn't know you made it." "Oh?" Time to lie. "I got in a scuffle at home and took a nasty fall in it. Got bruised all over and had to stay in bed. She saw it and it had shrunk down enough to match the new ones." "Awww...Poor pussycat. What can I do to help?" His hands knead into my sides and his natural warmth is lulling me to press more into him, earning him a very wide smile. "Mmmm...Just can keep doing what you're doing, hot stuff." He nuzzles his way to my ear, nipping it and working his way to my neck. "You make me burn, dear pussycat~." "Yeah~?" "Do you burn for me~?" I turn in his hold and wrap my arms around his neck, a dopey grin on my lips. "Does this answer your question~?" I've missed this. I've missed him. This tenderness. The feel of his fire on my skin. The heat that builds from when we kiss. All these little things that intensify from just being with him. And every time I indulge with him, part of wants nothing more than to drown in all the possibilities that come with him. "If I weren't open, there would be nothing stopping me from taking you to bed right now~." The charred crackle in his voice sends shivers down my spine. Okay, time to step it up. "What do you have to say about that, pussycat~?" My eyes are partly lidded and my voice takes a dip into the sultry tones. "Who's to say that's really what's stopping you..." His eyes widen while I hook a leg around his hips and the flame of his face tint a softer hue, his glasses steaming. "What's stopping you from taking me right here and now, hotstuff~?" He bites his bottom lip, his body trembling. "Lynsie..." I smother him in a heated deep kiss, my face glowing in blush. "I want you to turn my soul into a raging fire, Grillby~." Strained whimpers leave him. "You're not playing fair anymore, pussycat." I kiss his cheek with a snicker. "Don't hate the player. Hate the game, sweetie." He lets me go and does his best to cool down. I as well try t rub the red coloring my cheeks. "You're getting bolder. I like that." "Says the guy that went the extra level of insinuating sex. A girl has to step up her game against such a worthy teasing opponent." "You know I won't do that. Well...Not till you feel ready. Though when that day comes...I can't promise I'll be gentle." "My such a gentleman." "No, I mean it. I will wait for you." "I know. You're a good man, Grillby. That's what makes you so lovable." He looks a bit taken by that but then rubs the back of his head nervously. "Lovable? Heh...um...That might change once you open that box." That makes me look at the object in question. "What did you do?" [Meanwhile: at the Bar] To anyone that looked at him, Sans appeared to be sleeping. But such was not the case. He couldn't sleep and hadn't been able to get a proper rest in days. Not since the indecent. Not after saying that to his brother. He didn't know how to handle things after that. Fearing what would happen, he came to Grillby's and was so pathetic looking that Grillby gave him the pity of crashing on his couch till he knew the best way of going home without being murdered was. Though that fist day the fire-man did make him work for it. Busing tables was more annoying than guard duty and the shit others gave him because they knew they could get away with it was very tempting to the murderous frustration building in his soul. But laws are laws...No dust is spilled while in shops. Lucky for him Grillby only gave him a few chores to do earlier and let him wallow in his misery now. Sans was clearly not meant to wait tables when he almost broke a wine bottle over Punk Hamster's head for making a short joke. So this reprieve to drink himself stupid to block out the world so he could think better, not the best logic but it's what his sad mind came up with, and maybe blackout for some rest was a godsend. Then...apparently god said fuck you to the skeleton because, right when he felt himself drifting into unconsciousness, SHE walks into the bar. As if life wasn't being a bitch to him now, it just had to have the human show up now of all times. With his sockets closed, he prayed that pretending to sleep would keep her from bugging him. And much to his surprise, it did. She let sleeping skeletons lie and chatted up Grillby. This was worth ignoring until he heard the voice of the flower. That freaky little twerp. He bet it told her everything. It would explain why she was even here. Stupid human and her ridiculous drive to be nice. Yet she doesn't say a word about him and leaves along with Grillby to the inner parts of the building. Which, as much as he was grateful that she didn't say anything, part of him felt annoyed that she didn't. It was a weird feeling and he hated it. "So...How long are you going to pretend to sleep?" ...Fuck that flower. "I know the difference of when you're sleeping and when you're not. I've seen it too many times." "ya watch me sleep? weirdo." He says with his sockets still closed. But he can feel the movement of something landing on the bar. "Look at you. This is a new low. And that's saying something considering it's, well, you." "leave me alone." "Would if I could. But I'm here till it's time to head home." Sans groans. "Don't groan at me. I'm just a tag-along. She's the one that wanted to come here." "yeah yeah. little miss goody-goody wants to come and make nice by solving all my problems. man, you can not keep shit to yourself, can you? ya just have to blab to her about everything." There's a strange pause. "I didn't tell her anything." For that he cracked one socket open, letting him see the potted flower that's within arm's reach. "bull...shit." "No, really. I haven't said a word about what happened between you and Papyrus. She only knows something happened because we met your brother on the way here. Heck, she thought it was his fault when he was being vague about it." That got the other to socket open and him to sit up. "but that's..." "I AM NOT GOING OUT THERE!" The shouting female voice has all patrons eyes fixated on the door to Grillby's home. There are the sounds of a struggle, lots of swearing, and then...silence. Suddenly, the door creaks open and Grillby has a smug smirk curling his face. "You're all in for a real treat. And I'm warning you now..." His tone drops and the burning in his words is searing. "I will incinerate anyone that dares take a picture. Even if you get away with it now, I will find out. And when I do...I will look for you, I will find you, and I will kill you." No one would call the bluff of a monster with LV level 10 on making threats like that. Though the reason behind such a thing does make them curious. "Great. Now that that's established..." His warm personality returns as he retreats behind the door once more and after a bit flings it open to shove the now blushing human. Why is she blushing to the point her face almost matches Grillby's flames? Well...her outfit is very...um...it's very appealing to a certain type, let's say that. Very cocktail bar styled waitress in terms of looks. Her top is a corset in purple with black holographic flame details and adjustable clasped/laced back for a snug fit that showed off the buxom chest she liked to hide. On her wrists are matching sleeve cuffs and her neck spots a purple collarette with a silver bell attached to the black bow there. Her bottom is some black short shorts with a miniskirt that again showed off more of the body she hid in baggy large fitting male clothes. Her now exposed legs are wearing black thigh high stockings with the same pattern of her top trailing the full length. Her black loafers were flat but given a solid body heel to still get the altering stance effect of being on one's tiptoes. Finishing off her already over the top look, a fake set of black cat ears crown her head to tame the wilds of her loosened hair and a tail faintly swings in the back. "Say hello, pussycat. Just like I told you." The human's face screams uncomfortable, especially with the hands of Grillby ever so lightly gripping upon her shoulders. She swallows dryly, lifting a hand up to resemble a paw and makes a face that looks less likely that she's about to vomit. "Nya~." The bar goes silent. Though from across the room, Drunk Bun pulls out her phone and hits a button. *Kawaii anime "WOW" sound effect* Once that sound plays the bar erupts in laughter. The human, completely embarrassed, growls and balls up her fists to keep herself restrained. The only ones not mocking her were Grillby, Flowey, and amazingly Sans, who at by this point was hiding so deep in the hood of his coat that he nearly pulled the whole thing over his head just to keep the harsh red glow lighting his skull from being seen. What the hell was Grillby doing pulling a stunt like this? It's one thing to show off the one you like. But to make them come out in public in something that leaves nothing to the imagination is a big fucking no-no. Something must have gone down in that back room for her to agree to this crazy shit after yelling in protest before. "See, pussycat? They love it." "*groan* Why do I tolerate crap like this?" "Because you like me~." "I'm beginning to question as to why that is." Grillby playfully messes with her hair before returning to the bar. "What can I get you, pussycat? I'm sure you came all this way for something other than this." She drags herself to her stool and does her best to ignore the commotion bombarding her. "Just a large soda. I'm not hungry." Flowey just watched as the bartender and his sister did nothing to change this current state of things. "Are you serious?" "What?" "What?! What do you mean, what?! Do you even know what you're wearing?!" "Keep your voice down, bro. You're making a scene." "I'm making a scene?!" The rather hard clank of a tall glass near the flower's pot gets its rage to stop. "You should listen to your sister, little man. This isn't a place to cause trouble." A warm warning to settle down. "Now be nice, Grillz. No need to get hot under the collar." Grillby chuckles and Flowey groans. "Please, don't make puns. Not now. Not while you're like this." She shrugs and takes her drink. "Grillz, if you'd be so kind, could you get my brother some water. Maybe something bubbly?" Her words are innocent, her eyes were not. Grillby merely nods and does as suggested. Pouring some less than pure water slowly into Flowey's pot. "This should help you relax, little man. And besides, she doesn't have to stay like that forever. Just twenty-eight more minutes." "so it was a bet." Sans mutters as he partially un-turtles himself from his coat, though the hood stays on to shadow him. "He speaks? And here I thought you shrunk so deep in there that you collapsed into yourself." The word "shrunk" ticked off his height sensitivity and he glares directly at her. "i ain't fucking..." Getting a close eye-full of her in this getup has him reeling back with his hands over his eyes. "fuck! i can't look at ya when like that!" She scoffs. "Please. Did you forget that you've seen me naked? This should be easier for you." *shatter* The shock has Grillby dropping the glass he was cleaning. Though the shock is quickly replaced with a different feeling. "He did what now?" His tone is ominous and foreboding. Yet the human merely sips her drink calmly as Sans settles down. "Chill, hot stuff. It wasn't on purpose. He didn't know I was in the tub and popped in. No biggie." "it's not like i saw much anyway." "Hard to see much of anything between the flailing and screaming." "heh...yeah." That both did and didn't reassure Grillby. They weren't looking at each other but they were reminiscing. Sharing a personal moment. A moment she had with someone else. It brought up those weird feelings again. The ones that have him bothered by how close she is with Sans. The ones that have him concerned about if he should do something more about it. The ones that have him regretting doing such actions that flaunt her like this in the eyes of other males. This requires more thought. But first things first, he's got to clean up some broken glass. "Wait...Are you telling me that you're wearing that for a reason?" She nods and pats Flowey's head. "Care to elaborate?" "Give me time. I'm waiting." "Waiting? For what?" "For the water to take effect." Flowey looks confused as Sans snickers. "wow, kid. i didn't think ya could be so messed up." She shrugs and downs the rest of her soda. "To be honest, I want to talk to you without extra commentary." Flowey gets worried. "What did you do?" "Calm down, little man..." Grillby says with a smirk and picks up his pot. "Just relax and settle in for a snooze." "Did...Did you drug me?" "What? No. What do you take me for? No...I just watered down some vodka. That should kick in soon." Flowey continues to freak out so Grillby places him back in the pack and secures it. Sure, the flower rustles around for some time. But that fight dies down among some slurred muffled words before settling into peace. "Thanks, Grillz. A nap will do him well." "It's fine, pussycat. But in the future, I'm not going to do that again. I don't get kids drunk." "*scoff* He's no kid. Hell, he's older than me in the grand scheme of the timeline." While that puzzled Grillby it did get Sans's attention and she kept going. "Such a crazy thing the flow of time. It's amazing that you hardly can tell when something changes. How something so tiny can make the biggest of alterations and cause different versions of events to play out. Like, let's say, you can go back and relive moments where you could've done something better." This line of talk tweaked a nerve in him and his magic began to flare in his left eye. Was she baiting him? "But time manipulation is nutty. I mean, pausing time would be a cool power. And super useful too." She was. Damn it. This better be important. The bar goes dark except for a spotlight of light on the two of them and everyone in the dark has frozen still. "whatever it is you've got to say, it better be important." She looks at him yet he still won't make eye contact with her. "How long have you known that I was in control of the timeline?" He flinched at that. That was definitely not what he would've suspected her to say. "w-what do ya mean?" "If you're going to bullshit me, at least do it to my face." He fidgets. "*sigh* Give me your coat." "huh?" "Give me your coat. If I wear it, you can't see my tits. Makes sense now?" He didn't need to be told twice. Practically shoving the coat in her face. Still, he refrained from looking at her till he heard the zipper finish its crawl of sealing. Now he could face her but still had to keep his gaze upward. Something about leggings, socks, and stockings made his soul stir. "Better?" "it's a start." "Okay. Now answer the question." "which was?" She palms her face. "Me. Control of the timeline. How long have you known?" "that? pretty much since ya got here." "And you weren't going to tell me...why?" "why does it matter if or if not i would tell ya?" "It matters because it's important." "like hell. you wouldn't even know about the damn timeline if it wasn't for me." "That's not the point!" She was getting frustrated. Why? "why don't you get to your point instead of being so pissy." She glares and her left-hand claws at the bar, though her lack of nails has her fingers making this odd rubbing sound. "Flowey told me of his reign as time lord. And of the times you've killed him." So that's her reason? She's mad about him killing the flower? Stupid bitch with stupid points. "and?" Here it comes. Her stupid response. "Why didn't you kill me?" That...That he wasn't expecting. "what do you mean?" "I know you made a promise to Toriel. But you knew what the eighth human meant. Someone gaining control of the timeline. I didn't know about such things until you told me. So...Why not kill me before I knew? It probably would've made it so that I just died normal and wouldn't cause a RESET. So...Why?" He scratched his skull for a bit. "Sans?" "to be honest...i...i didn't consider it." She is confused. "look...it's not 'cause i like ya or anything, so don't go overthinking this. you..." He sighs and rubs his face trying to find the right words. "you're different. you don't go around toying with people. or pretend to do things to reach some sort of end game. you just...exist. and you're okay with just that. so as long as you don't become a megalomaniacal douchebag or some disconnected puppeteer that strings us all along, i don't see a point to kill you." A soft smile graces her and he averts his eyes to remain tough. "Thanks. But still...I am a little surprised you'd be nice to me like that. Considering you had no trouble killing Flowey when he got on your bad side. And he's Toriel's REAL kid." His interest was tempted. "the weed? wait...what about tori?" Her face blanks. "You don't know?" "know what?" "Sans...Flowey is Asriel brought back from the dead." If a skeleton could pale. "...w-what?" She sighs. "To make an incredibly long story short...Asriel's dust was on a flower seed used in a determination experiment and it brought him back but without a soul. Hence, we have Flowey." The gears in his head grind in jarring thought. "so what you're telling me is..." "You've been stuck in time loops because of flower all along? I know. Sounds dumb out loud. But yes. That's the big ol' plot twist to this part of the story. He's the beginning of the time issues. And seeing as Frisk isn't here to add more...well...That makes me the end of them. I hope." His mind was still processing most of this. "you mean, this whole time, my life was stuck on repeat because of that fucking weed?" She leans over the bar and refills her glass. "Yep. At least at first. From what I've theorized, the being with the greater amount of determination is the one that gets control of the timeline. Why that is, I don't know. But I chalk it up to there being magic here and nowhere else. Either way, that being was once Flowey. Then Frisk's level outdid his. And now there's me. Though, unlike my predecessors, I'm cool with time's forward flow. I ain't gonna fuck with any of you like they did." This was beginning to hurt his head, dulling his senses. Suddenly she hastily removes his coat and plops it on him. He doesn't understand at first till the light around them starts to expand and time begins resuming in the bar. His magic was fizzling out. He did his best to match her in normalcy by the time things continued, though he was more frazzled than he wanted to be by the time Grillby was alert again, yet no one seemed any wiser to the freeze-frame. "But yeah, maybe pausing time would be too much. That's god-tier levels of power. Too much responsibility for mere mortals to comprehend." Smart girl. She was continuing her dumb babble as if nothing happened to keep up appearances. The only indication of something odd had happened was that her drink had refilled. Come to think of it, he could use another drink right now. "yo, grillz. another bottle please." "Are you sure? That's your fifth bottle." "i'm still good. this is far from my limit. plus, it's not like i'm not gonna pay ya. just put it on my tab." "So you're starting the climb back up again?" This made Sans confused. "what?" Grillby nods towards the human. "You want to tell him or should I?" She takes a long swig of her drink. "We made a few little deals back there. I agreed to put this on in exchange for my small bill being paid off. Then someone got the idea of me wearing it out here for thirty minutes and he'd agree to wipe half of your slate clean." "To which you're doing a very fine job, pussycat. You only have...um...fifteen minutes? Odd. Thought it was longer than that." Missing time tends to happen when paused. "Eh. Time flies when good times are had." She dismisses it easily and Grillby is inclined to roll with it. Sans, however, takes this new piece of knowledge rather irritably. "you cut my tab in half?" She shrugs nonchalantly. "I told you I'd help. Sure, originally I offered with my paycheck. But let's be real. I'm not out and about enough to make any gold with a steady job. So...This was the next best thing." His hand hits the bar and his annoyance allows him to look at her directly without embarrassment. "where do you get off doing that? huh? i didn't ask or tell you that i wanted any help. i can pay my own damn bills." She seems oddly ready, as if knowing he would blow up like this, yet glares sternly none the less. "It's called a gesture of kindness. You don't do it because of some obligated reason. You do it because you want to. And I wanted to be nice to my friend." "i ain't your friend! stop being nice to me!" The bar has a shift in vibe. Grillby makes a move to correct the skeleton's behavior but is stopped by the human with a simple cautious hand motion. "Why not tell me how you really feel." Maybe it's the boozed mustard in him taking effect. Maybe the fucked up flower shit she unloaded on him kicking in. Maybe it's the stress from the past several days taking their toll. Yet for whatever the reason, that goading made him snap and let loose. "how i feel? why don't you cut the nice girl act! doing nice shit out of the goodness of your heart? bull crap! don't guilt me by making it seem like you're doing something nice!" "I'm not. You don't owe me squat for this." "that! that kind of shit pisses me off!" "Why?" His socket was twitching. "why? because it's not normal! no one is nice for no reason!" "Why?" "because that's not how things work down here!" "Why?" "because being nice gets you killed!" "Why?" He gets off his stool to really mean business. "...i swear if you say 'why' one more time, i'm gonna slap that smarmy look off your face." "I'm sorry." "that's...wait...huh?" "I said, I'm sorry." His head was getting to him. An annoying throbbing in his skull. What game was she playing now? "what are you up to?" "I'm sorry you feel like you have to do this. I'm sorry you've suffered for so long that any good is looked at as secretly evil. And I'm sorry you don't see me as your friend. But I can't force you to trust me. It's just a shame that you're trying to push away someone that you know just wants to help when I can see just how much you want it." Sans snarls venomously. "i don't fucking need your help!" She attempts to takes another drink and he slaps it out of her hand. "Wow...A bit uncalled for." "enough with the act! you act all calm, with your little quips and remarks. making you look so well put together. but i know better. i know you're just as messed up as the rest of us. so why don't you get off your high horse and get out of my life!" Her demeanor falters for a moment. A nerve being struck. One that had little time to heal. Though this doesn't sting for very long. "You're right. This is an act." She gets off her stool and stands up to face him. "Every day, I wake up and I pretend to be this way. To play this role of the girl that never gives in and can smile through it all. I put on my mask and face this world as best that I can. But inside I'm dying. I'm being crushed by insecurities, doubt, depression, and so much negativity that I let myself fall into a pit hoping for the sweet embrace of death. I have attempted to end my life a good handful of times. Each more pathetic than the last. Even now, I'm just a few triggers shy of crumbling into a blubbering mass of tears." She lets out a few hollow laughs as if needing to do so to get a hold of something. "Yet there are few things that keep me from doing those bad things now that I'm here. And if putting on this act keeps me in, relative, ease...Then yeah. I'm gonna pretend my ass off that all is fine with me. Because I'm a fucking moron that is too afraid to open up to those closest to me and ask for help!" She's shaking. No. Trembling. And her face...such a torn look about it. She looked like she's about to run away and never look back. Such a look broke through to the slightly decent part of his soul. Mostly because her words struck a chord in him. How did she always say what he would internalize? "kid...i..." Before anyone knew it, she had moved rather quickly in the small gap between them and was now hugging the agitated skeleton. Not one to take her hugs easily, Sans in his current grumpy state and with his arms locked under hers, acts on instinct. He bites hard into her shoulder. She hisses at the sudden stabbing of his teeth. He hopes that the pain will make her release him or that Grillby will pry them apart. However...None of that happens. So his teeth sunk in more, drawing wincing and blood from her. Yet her grip only tightened. "*strained* Is that really necessary?" "*muffled* fucking let me go!" "*strained* Not till I help you." He jerks his head harshly and the high pitch yelp she let out hurts the dog guards ears. Grillby is having none of this. There is no violence in his bar and it was going to stay that way. He moves around to separate them but she jerks away. "*strained* Don't touch me!" He wanted to disobey. Especially when Sans thrashed more and her blood dribbled out even more. Yet the look she gave him held him in place. "*strained* Sans...It's not your fault." Sans growls, making small bubbles in her bloody flesh. "*strained* He's not mad at you." The growling lessens a bit. "*strained* I won't make either of you tell me what happened. That's between you boys. But I will tell you what I saw on my way here and you will listen. Then I'll let you go. Got that?" The growling slowly stops and she leans in close to his ear hole, taking care to whisper. "I saw someone great and terrible stricken with loss. A man of power who was crumbling all alone and consumed with worry. He misses you, Sans. He is falling apart without." There is a long pause as the quiet set in. A pin could be heard if one were dropped. Then she whimpered as he removed his teeth from her to talk properly. "if this is a sick joke..." "*wince* You know me. I don't joke like that." "he just wants me home so he can dust me." "He knows you're here. He's seen you through the window. If he wanted to harm you, he would just walk in and take you. Instead of, you know, moping around like an emo." Her grip was loosening on him and her stance shifting. It got Grillby's attention. That, plus how much red was staining her pale skin and the outfit. Thank god Muffet wasn't around to see her work ruined. "did he actually say that he missed me?" "*shaky* Plainly? No. Not in words." He found it surprising she abruptly lets him go. "*wary* But check your phone. He said he called you. Maybe there are some messages..." She stumbles back, losing her balance in the slick drippings on the floor. Lucky for her she lands into the arms of a concerned Grillby. "*weakly* H-Hey, hot stuff...Sorry about the mess..." "It's okay. Just stay awake, pussycat." Taking notice of the continuing to bleed wound, Sans put it together that his stupid thrashing cut into deep veins, making her bleed out rather steadily. No words are said as the barman picked the human up and gave a subtle look to the front door. One by one, patrons made their way out and the owner went inside. Leaving Sans unsure what his next move was. He wasn't going to be able to stay the night here again, that's for sure. He needed to gather his thoughts somewhere else. Somewhere he could be alone and get the copper taste out of his mouth. He wiped his sleeve across his mandible and the sheen of red on it made him uneasy. Made him regretful. With a heavy sigh, he teleported away to think things over.
#undertale#underfell#Anomaly#Lynsie#sans#papyrus#gaster#grillby#grandpa semi#napstablook#mettaton#flowey#Asriel#asgore#toriel#chara#frisk#undyne#alphys
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Skate
Uh, Iâm testing a new pairing so have fun with Rhodey/Tony/Bucky! An AU in which Bucky is a figure skater and Tony and Rhodey are supportive even if they think the cold should be illegal.
Rhodey and Tony sit huddled in their thick coats watching Bucky somehow manage to not freeze to death in a onsie that looks like its bonded to his skin its so tight. Yeah, sure his ass looks fantastic but is Tony really willing to get frost bite to look at it?
The fact that he hasnât moved says yes and heâs accepted that heâs a fool.
âOkay, I understand we gotta be supportive and all that but canât we just watch his stuff on TV where it's warm?â Rhodey asks, shivering.
âThat would require not being there when he does his actual competition stuff and Iâve been reliably informed that thatâs a dick move,â Tony tells him.
Rhodey wrinkles his nose, unhappy about this. âMy people were never meant to be this cold, we are from a warm climate,â he mumbles and Tony rolls his eyes.
âIâm Italian, thatâs a Mediterranean country. My people werenât meant to be cold either. Blame Buckyâs Romanian ass for this situation,â he says.
Rhodey lets out a long sigh. âCanât you invent something to keep us warm? Youâre slacking,â he tells Tony.
âOh like you donât have the capability to invent something yourself. Take responsibility.â Theyâre both smart enough to do it but usually they both have other things to that precent them from being able to watch Bucky practice. Rhodeyâs usually not in the country and Tony usually has business shit that he hates almost more than the cold. So thereâs no real need to invent something.
He leans into Rhodey and Rhodey frowns down at him. âIf you think Iâm putting my arm around you youâve got another thing coming. I remove an extremity from my carefully constructed âkeep warmâ position and it loses all heat. I love you, but not that much,â he tells Tony.
âRude,â Tony mumbles.
They both jump when Bucky taps on the glass separating the audience area from the rink. âMy favorite part about this little argument is that Rhodey has risked actual war to track you down. Like missiles and bombs and terrorists and stuff too. But some cold? Time to die, I guess,â he says, snickering.
Rhodey squints at him, âis that sweat on your forehead?â he asks, shocked. He shakes his head, âhell no. White people are going to survive climate change and the rest of us will all die I guess,â he says, picking himself up and walking off.
Tony rolls his eyes, âI can assure you white people like me will be just as dead as everyone else!â he calls after him. Italians werenât meant for this shit either.
Bucky snorts, âI donât think he realizes how much work not dying out here is. The stuff on the ground, not so bad. The jumps? I land wrong and my ankle is busted and also my career is toast. Requires a lot of mental energy out there let alone the athleticism.â
Yeah, Tony knows. Heâs run simulations on Buckyâs movements in videos and frankly its impressive, what he can do out there. Tony doesnât even know how to walk on ice let alone do it with blades strapped to his feet backwards and spinning around in the air. But Bucky does that kind of thing all the time and claims most of it is easy. Tonyâs talked to other skaters, most of what Bucky finds easy isnât. He just happens to hold a natural talent for the sport and the stuff he tries at is the stuff most skaters work exceptionally harder than him to be able to do.
âYou look good out there,â he tells Bucky, attempting to be encouraging. The cold puts a damper on his mood but still. He thinks he does ok.
âTony, I love you but you have no clue what to look for,â he tells him.
True, very true, but he thinks this might be one of those situations where you know bad work when you see it. Like movies- sure he canât name what makes a movie good but boy does he know when one is bad.
âI mean. Youâre graceful,â he says, trying to offer some kind of compliment that gives Bucky a vote of confidence.
âYou mean my ass looks great,â Bucky says, breaking Tonyâs observation skills down to its bare essentials.
He sighs. âYeah.â
*
When Rhodey returns he has coffees and a cashmere scarf wrapped around his neck. Its Tonyâs and heâs mad that Rhodey remembered it and didnât even bring it back for him. He hands Tony his coffee and sits down beside him, wiggling in close to avoid body heat escaping at least on one side. âThanks,â Tony murmurs.
âIs this going to take much longer? We all know I love Bucky but my ass was frozen when I left. Human beings were not meant to live in conditions like this. Its why Russians are like that,â he says. âAnd Canadians. You ever met one of them? Theyâre not right.â
Yeah, Tony has met Ryan Reynolds and Wade Wilson. Both were weird and he doesnât really get either one of them. And heâs met Natasha so he knows the Russians are a little off too. âI think he might be here for awhile still,â he says and Rhodey lets out a long groan.
âMy family never should have moved from Haiti. Iâm sure they were fine there.â
âHow do you think I feel about Italy? Weâve been there, its beautiful. Why the hell did my idiot grandfather go to America, land of the fucking frozen for way too many months of the year?â Sure, he likes America fine in the summer but the winter? Fuck that. And he doesnât want to go down south on account of too much Christianity and Walmarts. Okay, New York has the Walmarts too but still.
âThatâs true. He made a mistake, lets move to Italy,â Rhodey says.
âIf weâre moving I would prefer we buy an island so the population is us. Also, media will have a hard time getting there,â he says.
Rhodey considers it for a moment before shrugging. âYeah, ok.â
*
By the time Bucky finally finishes Rhodey has been complaining about cold hands for an hour and Tony is so cold heâs certain his lower body has ceased to exist. â You two are so damn dramatic,â Bucky tells him both but he yelps when Rhodey sticks a cold hand on his body. He smacks Rhodeyâs hand away. âStop that!â he says, nose wrinkled.
âOh, weâre dramatic but you donât like cold hands on you? Okay,â he says, giving Bucky a look.
Bucky looks to him but Tony snorts, âdonât expect me to save you, Rhodeyâs right. You might have worked up a sweat but we were freezing our asses off. Literally I think because I canât feel anything below my waist.â
âYou two are dramatic now lets go. I need to shower and I know you two wonât stop whining until we get home.â
Heâs right but he shouldnât say it, its rude.
*
Bucky rolls his eyes when he finds Rhodey and Tony under a thick comforter, heads poking out the top. âMake room for me,â he tells them and Tony wrinkles his nose because heâs a blanket hogging ass but Rhodey opens his end for Bucky to climb in.
He does, settling in while Tony whines about the cold air. âShush, it wasnât that bad,â Bucky tells him. Tony curls closer to Rhodey so clearly he thinks it does. Rhodey shakes his head at them both and wraps an arm around both of them.
âI would rather go back to an active war zone than do that again,â he says and Bucky raises an eyebrow. âWhat? If I die there itâll probably be quick,â he reasons.
âNot with your luck it won't,â Tony says. âBut I agree. I know how to handle weapons. Cold? I was wearing three sweaters, long johns, five pairs of socks, and a coat thatâs supposed to be able to withstand arctic temperatures and I was still cold. Fuck that.â
âBucky is clearly half yeti,â Rhodey says. âBecause only some abominable snowman type shit could sweat in the cold like that.â
Bucky rolls his eyes, âits more a matter of being in constant motion practicing a pretty difficult sport,â he points out.
âUh huh sure freaky yeti person,â Rhodey says, shaking his head.
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