#but the fucking things came with so much of the world's most annoying and stubborn adhesive on them for fuck only knows why

[robustcornhusk]

atrociously sticky adhesive, gone, due to the powers of a heat gun and goo-gone

[bleedingoptimism]

part five: Eddie

Eddie has always been impulsive. Most of his tattoos were impulsive, starting a band was impulsive, flirting with Steve was impulsive, introducing him to his friends was impulsive, and kissing Pricilla was impulsive…

But falling in love with Steve? That was slow, tortuous, against every impulse on his body, and impossible to resist.

But again, Eddie has always been stubborn too, he gets an idea in his mind, and suddenly it cements in stone there, unmovable, unbreakable. And the idea of Steve liking him back was so preposterous he had never even thought about it.

He is impulsive and stubborn and he acts without thinking about the consequences because he thinks he is inconsequential, he thinks there won't be repercussions to his actions because no one cares about him.

He’s wrong, he knows that now. He’s been working on it.

He apologized to Lucas for making him feel left out just for liking sports, to Dustin for leaving him alone and scaring the shit out of him, and to his uncle for not going to him for help. 

And Steve had been the one who, during their heartfelt chats late at night, had helped him see how important he was, how the things he did mattered.

Which made the fact that his latest impulsive mistake had hurt him of all people so much worst.

So Eddie is impulsive and stubborn and when he gets an idea in his head is hard to make him change his mind. And when he wants to do something, he needs to do it now.

This is why, after Gareth, Frank, and Jeff came to talk to him and told him Steve thinks Eddie doesn't care about him and that he needs to fix that, he standing here outside Steve’s home at 11:10 at night throwing pebbles at his window.

Even though Jeff told him it could wait until tomorrow, that he waited this long already, and that Steve was probably sleeping.

But Eddie made a mistake and he knows how to fix it now so he needs to fix it now.

At 11.11 Steve opens his window and glares at him, then sighs and drops his chin on his chest and takes a deep breath, like he’s praying for patience, and it's something he’s so used to Steve doing when Eddie says or does something dumb, it makes him smile. 

Steve moves from the window and Eddie walks to the door, hoping Steve is going to open it and not ignore him leaving him outside.

When he opens the door Eddie has to suppress a gasp because fuck he missed him. Steve is just wearing sweatpants and a tank top and he’s rubbing his eyes, glaring at him, not angrily, but annoyed, at being woken up probably. And he looks fucking beautiful. He is so fucking beautiful.

“You were sleeping,” Eddie says stupidly.

“What do you want Eddie?” Steve questions, but moves away from the door, an invitation.

“I’m sorry” 

“It’s fine Eddie, I wasn't sleeping”

“No, I'm sorry,” Eddie says again standing in front of Steve as soon as he closes the door.

Steve cocks his head confused but then frowns “I- I don’t need you to apologize for that” He scoffs but he looks embarrassed and he hugs himself like he’s putting a barrier between himself and Eddie.

“I’m not. I’m apologizing for the after, and the before,” Eddie tells him, “I’m sorry it took me so long to come and talk to you. I thought you were mad at me and I didn't know what to do. I was scared because I don’t know how to explain myself and I’m sorry I made you feel like I didn’t care, or like you didn’t matter because you matter so much to me, Steve. To the boys too if the amount of shit I’ve received this last week is any indication.”

He pauses to smile shyly at Steve when he hears a faint chuckle at that, then takes a deep breath and keeps going,

“And I'm sorry about the before because I should’ve been paying more attention, I was so lost I’m own little world where you are too good to be true, too good for me and I didn't even think about how you felt. How you could’ve felt about me and I should've realized that you liked me back and I should’ve kissed you, Steve! When I saw you there, looking like a fucking dream in those jeans, wearing a shirt with my stupid band name on it, I should've kissed you”

He’s panting when he finishes his rant, not from lack of air but from the amount of passion in his speech. He’s been looking anywhere but at Steve as he talked, but now that he’s done he finally looks at him.

And Steve is looking back, mouth slightly open and eyes huge and unblinking, and then he abruptly surges forward, grabs Eddie’s face, one hand on the back of his neck the other on his cheek, and kisses him.

Eddie instantly melts into it, he kisses him back with all he has, and pours everything he feels into it, and Steve moans when he licks inside his mouth and it’s absolutely wonderful but then, just as suddenly as he kissed him, he pushes him away. It startles Eddie so much he stumbles and almost falls.

“Fuck!” no- just”

“Steve?”

“Just wait, because I need to make sure, Eddie,” Steve says crossing his arms again and staring him in the eyes, “What exactly are you saying?” he asks.

Eddie looks at him praying he says the right thing, “I’m saying I love you and I want to be with you and I’m sorry it took me so long to tell you” 

“And?” Steve says but there’s a hint of a smile on his lips and Eddie feels hopeful he’s on the right track. 

“And… I’m sorry I kissed that girl?” He tries.

“Damn right you are, and?” 

“And I’m not going to do something like that again?” Eddie says smiling back.

But then Steve’s smile is gone and looks seriously at him, “If we are doing this Eddie, if I’m going to give you my heart, you need to promise, promise you’ll be careful with it because-” And he stops talking, leaves the rest unsaid but Eddie understands what he means. 

And he’s impulsive but not about this, not about loving Steve and he’s stubborn and so very determined to treat him right. 

He moves close again and puts one hand on Steve's cheek, feeling him nuzzle into it as he places his other hand on his chest, right where his heart is.

Looks him in the eye when he says. “I promise” and this time, when they kiss, Steve doesn’t push him away but closer instead.

fin

part one

part two

part three

part four

part five (you are here!)

☕🥐💕 cafecito?

[elekinetic]

lucas is ten years old, and he has made a mortal enemy. there is an owl living in the tree just outside his bedroom window and he freaking hates it, okay? it’s so loud and annoying and smug and it won’t stop “hoooing” all night long — or however you spell it. whatever. and look, lucas has never been one for violence, but there is a reason he asked his parents for a wrist rocket last christmas, and no, he hasn’t hit the stupid bird yet but one of these days he’s gonna get it, and he’s gonna take the fucker down, right between it’s freaky yellow eyes, and he’ll finally get a good night’s sleep. just you wait.

lucas is twelve years old, and he’s wide awake. and yeah, the owl is still freaking hooting even though he DEFINITELY hit its foot like, four weeks ago. but that’s not why he’s up. will’s missing, and mike’s mad at him, and that weird bald girl is messing everything up and…well. lucas isn’t crying, okay? lucas is fine, and if you tell erica anything otherwise he’s gonna hit you with his wrist rocket which is a serious threat because he’s gotten so much better. even if the owl hasn’t left yet. even if he asked his parents to call animal control because it’s been three years, you guys and it’s still yelling into his bedroom window. HOOT, HOOT, even right now. it’s fine. he’ll get it eventually, he just needs a plan. he’ll come up for a plan to get rid of the owl, just like he’ll come up with a plan to save will. if mike and dustin won’t help him, he’ll do it himself.

lucas is fourteen years old, and oh my god, he GOT IT. HE FINALLY FREAKING GOT IT. it took him half a decade, but he borrowed a teammate’s BB gun and managed to knock down its nest. and lucas doesn’t get why that was what got it to leave because it’s the most stubborn motherfucker he’s ever met, and he’s friends with dustin, but maybe it’s some kind of animal thing where you leave when your house gets wrecked and you’re too scared to build a new one. honestly, lucas doesn’t give a shit. the bird is gone, and that’s what matters. five freaking years of obnoxious hooting at 2am, over! peace at last! SILENCE at last! he wants to get up and jump on the bed, but maybe that’s immature of him. maybe he’s too excited about this. maybe he was right to tell his teammate it was to show off for a girl (which, he would’ve, gladly, if she’d come over or return any of his calls). maybe… maybe… maybe lucas should go to bed.

lucas is sixteen years old, and his bedroom is quiet. max is alive—thank god—and okay and healing and kind of happy, and vecna is dead and his friends and his family are safe and….god. they won. they won months ago, and it’s almost been a year, but lucas still has a hard time believing it. (his bedroom is quiet.) they tried so hard for so long and came so close to losing, and lucas hasn’t quite shaken that constant paranoia. “stay alert, stay alive,” is what they’d say when they went on patrols. (quiet.) he held max’s hand today and it was warm and she smiled at him, and it almost made him forget how cold her hands used to be. he remembers the hospital. he remembers the first days, when max had bloody bandages around her eyes. (quiet.) when she didn’t have the bandages, when it was just blood. he remembers holding her when she said she didn’t want to die (quiet.) and he said she wouldn’t and she needed to hold on cause the paramedics were almost there (quiet.) he remembers her dying and yeah she came back but she died. she died she died she died, and lucas’ room is so fucking quiet.

it’s ridiculous, really. the world ended, and they all lived. this is happily ever after. they saved the day.

he misses the stupid owl.

[jessjad]

Unexpected

Chapter 15 - Epiloge

Summary: After a Halloweenparty Y/N actually didn't want to got to, her life seems to be turned around. The reason is a very stubborn Supe that seems to have her in his visier. Is it just a coincidance or more?

Pairing: Soldier Boy/Ben x Reader

Word Count: 881

Warnings: none really, again some medical freedom

A/N: Here we are. The last chapter. Do we still remember the little secret Y/N had? Well, here comes the answer to that. All mistakes are mine. Enjoy!

My Masterlist Series Masterlist

5 Months later...

"You really don't need to come with me." Y/N said for the third time while she was putting on her coat.

She turned around to look back into her living space just to see Ben already standing there, waiting for her. He was wearing some black jeans, a dark green Henley, his most favorite boots and a very stubborn and determinate look on his face.

"I'm coming with." was all he said, his arms crossed infront of his chest.

One thing Y/N had learned in the last months was that the supe who didn't left her side anymore was a lot more work than she had thought. It was tough for him to get used to the new world he had woken up in. The technology, the new worldview of men and women. Y/N knew that he had felt lost.

After everything that has happened with Homelander on school side, mankind screamed for a change and the overthrow of Vought. Most people didn't want to be around supes anymore and they questioned if it was still necessary to have superhuman people on the loose. The discussion did not end, especially with recurring footage that the world should never have seen. Bloody, horrific splatter that showed how much the supes just did not care.

Everything Ben had lived for, worked for, was now the worst thing of all and he did not know what to do with it. The once most loved man had lost his worth and he just couldn't handle it. This drove even her to despair sometimes.

"Okay, okay." Y/N gave in.

Twenty minutes later they were sitting in Doctor Field's consulting room, waiting. Doctor Field was a specialist in DNA research and nuclear medicine. He was recommended to Y/N after she explained her new situation to her previous doctor. While Y/N sat quietly in one of the chairs, Ben paced around the room.

"Ben, can you please sit down?"

"Where the fuck is this mountebank?" Ben said, ignoring her question. "Back in my day they never left me fucking waiting."

He sounded annoyed, but Y/N heared that he was a little on edge too. And she could not blame him. She hadn't felt any different when she first told Ben about her appointment with Doctor Field. Of course he immediately wanted to know why. But she found it difficult to find the right words. By now, Y/N knew that he had an abandonment problem and it was difficult for her to know how he would react to this news.

So she explained to him that they had Alzheimer's in the family. After her grandma showed the first signs, Y/N's mum had herself tested, but nothing was found in her case. So Y/N had dared to take the test too, but her test came back positive. She had inherited the ApoE4 gene twice. Which meant she would most likely get sick. Ben then disappeared for three days.

"Sorry I kept you waiting." the door opened all of a sudden and startled both of them. "But now I'm here. So let's not waste any more time."

The doctor sat down behind his desk and opend up Y/N's file. Now Ben also sat down next to his woman. Eventhough he looked normal he couldn't deny that he was a little worried now. But only minimally.

"So? What are my results?" Y/N asked nervously, but doctor Field did not answer right away.

"To be honest, I've never seen anything like this before." Well, that did not really help. "Your original test results were several years ago now. So we repeated the tests using today's standards. Normally the results should not have changed much. But still... it's different in this case."

Y/N and Ben saw how his eyes drifted from one to the other.

"What the fuck does that mean?" Ben wanted to know.

Ben had asked Y/N almost the same question after he came back three days later. The argument that had ensued afterward because he had simply left Y/N alone and then acted as if it had never happened had ended in wild, hot sex and his word that he just had to get out, getting high and brake a few things. And Y/N believed him.

"The ApoE4 gene has... changed. There is a certain blueprint for every gene, but for you it looks different now. It has changed. The radioactive radiation you've been exposed to for so long seems to be affecting the gene."

"How?" Y/N asked surprised.

Did that mean, that there was still hope? With one quick look to Ben, she saw that he seemed to think the same thing.

"To fully determine that we need to make further tests." But now doctor Field was looking at Ben, not Y/N.

"No fucking way." Ben stared back.

"To fully understand what has happened here, we need to find out how the radioactive radiation affects you. You're a supe."

"Fuck off!" he shouted. "I'm not gonna let you do some tests on me like I'm a fucking lab rat."

"Ben..." Y/N tried to calm him down, but she knew it was uselss.

"No fucking way!"

And as the discussion continued, Y/N had to grin. No matter how this turned out, she wouldn't have it any other way.

A/N: This is it. I really liked these two. 🥹 Aaaand I left the ending open on purpose. Maybe I'll come back to them. 😊

Thanks to everyone who gave this story a try, reblogged or commented on it. It really meant a lot to me! 💜 And maybe we'll see eachother on my next story. 🤗

@lyarr24 @k-slla @leigh70 @deadlydivergentgirl @deans-spinster-witch

@chriszgirl92 @bitchykittenconnoisseur

[vitalconviction]

Sephiroth, for that ask thing

Sexuality Headcanon:

Gay in the way that any person they would enter a relationship with would be a queer relationship, that's just how they work

Gender Headcanon:

biology wise I have Seph always as intersex in some regard and genderwise it depends on how much thought he's spared himself--overall I think he's nonbinary in the most overarching definition and if given the chance to exist outside shinra he would gravitate towards femininity and eventually land on only feminine pronouns for herself! as it stands canonically i think she transcends gender in the corrupted ascenion to godhood seph has, but overall has left the aspect of his gender unassessed

A ship I have with said character:

tsengseph! genseph! I like smashing the obvious yin and yang counterparts together and also the red guy with the almost-sort-of-blue guy

One day I'll answer this on a more eloquent level HAHA

A BROTP I have with said character:

aeriseph but I do also ship them sometimes--i just cannot get over the thematic resonance of the child of the calamity and a child victim of the calamity essentially unionizing. This would be peak full circle, cue the cycle breaking, cue the chrysalis to butterfly, all that jazz

A NOTP I have with said character:

angealseph/sephgeal-- i personally find angeal unbearable. he really annoys the fuck out of me im sorry angeal fans but he's not my man... I think that his hardheadedness/stubbornness in his idea of honour would grate on sephiroth, but the reason sephiroth likes him is because of his care otherwise. It's just not something I can see sephiroth pursuing romantically though Lol so in that vein I also don't really like AGS or any angeal ot3 😔

A random headcanon:

niche weirdest hc i have is the eyeball nipple ALSO applies to seph, he has that eyeball nipple guys.

Less insane hc is that he is a sugar fiend, desserts are his favourite food and his drinks could all be classified as syrup. also despite not being the biggest fan of citrus he really really likes yuzu! I tend to flit between him being vegetarian and not as well, mostly because he would be tripping over himself to try new things because he's excited over the prospects of new sensory stimulas that isnt, say, Pain in a new flavour

General Opinion over said character:

WAAAAUUUGH! i love this blorbo. I wish he had a chance to live and not die everything he was always going to be. It was really self fufilling and in the end he died as what Hojo wanted of him--never breaking free, dying under the abuse, becoming the abuse that made him. Fucking kills me! I want a world where he breaks the cycle, where he becomes the future. That's a reason I love the transformative aspect of fandom here, I couldn't love ff7 the way I do without all the AU's, there is just far too much here to mess with, to reshape.

Totally tangentially, but I don't agree with people speaking of him being irredeemable or deserving of punishment, these are fundamentally reductive ideas and don't even line with the politics of ff7 itself LOL Atonement and redemption does not mean everyone suddenly forgives and forgets, but it does mean everyone is afforded another chance. Everyone is deserving of that. Even people who've committed heinous acts, because foundationally they're still people. It all depends on whether or not they double down on their damage and believe in it till the end, if they're apathetic and even jubilant at their violence. If he came back uncaring, apathetic, and fundamentally unchanged from the blind bitter hate filled attitude he had before, then yes he is unredeemable because he is refusing it. But were he to acknowledge the wrongs and try to right them, try to move on and apologize then yes he could work for atonement. Sorry for the random anti-punishment rant LOL I've just been thinking abt this for a while, check out philosophytubes video on capital punishment (its on youtube!) for further challenges on this idea :D

[system-of-a-feather]

(Disclaimer: this post was written in two parts, the first half was done the day before but not posted cause I didnt feel it was a complete thought, the second half was added after. I did not edit or touch the first half as I like to keep space for the thoughts of myself as they were; i also have passive chronic amnesia so Im not 100% sure if everything is on the same page; regardless that is just context)

Honestly, I think the thing that is important to keep in mind when interacting with syscourse - or specifically for us cause the only one we really care about is the tulpa discourse - is that you are never going to force or change anyone's mind who is so set that they are sitting on tumblr and pulling the dumbest arguments out of their ass to support their claims and I do think those that spend their time arguing with @/sophieinwonderland and @/cambriancrew - while honestly doing the dirty work no one wants to do by balancing out their bullshit posting so mad respect - are largely wasting their time if they do ever think that a mind will be changed.

The only reason to ever engage or talk about the stuff they (and the clique that actually buys into those arguments) talk about is solely to make an example out of how incredibly deep their interalized racism and just disregard for POC goes and honestly looking at them as anything other than a stubborn white person is putting more emotional energy than its worth.

Because genuinely, in a weird way and me doing what XIV calls "The Riku Thing" of looking at a really negative, annoying, and/or harmful thing and finding the bright side silverlining to it, I do kind of appreciate how astonishingly White TM they are because their unapologetic and loud nature makes a really big spectacle for a lot of people who otherwise would not understand how bad certain issues are look and go "what the fuck" and in its own way, it brings good publicity to the issues AAPI and eastern cultures go through in a western and white predominant area.

AAPI issues often go under the radar and are disregarded due to a number of reasons, but honestly? This is the most I've ever seen people actually talk about how white people take advantage of eastern and Asian cultures (relative to the size of the community in question) save for the brief blip of when Stop Asian Hate got loud during COVID where sinophobia blasted up and a bit surrounding Cyberpunk as a genre when Cyberpunk 2077 came out.

In that regard, I'm kinda glad they are so loudly racist and White TM about AAPI cultures. It makes for good publicity and awareness by being the example of just the Usual Bullshit and it starts better conversations. I'd honestly prefer a loud bigot to a quiet insidious one cause the loud ones at least can serve part of a message and be ignored.

Anyhow, this is all just to say that bigots will be bigots and you can argue with them all you want and call them truthful statements like "bigots" and "racist" but thats about all you can do to really control their behavior. Those balancing out their bullshit arguments, mad props - I could never cause that shit is too toxic and too much of an investment, but it is respectable work. (insert "it aint much but its honest work" meme at yall)

---(cut between original thoughts and the added bit)---

That said, I'll just say it as the fact that it is, those two and those that follow their rhetoric do not care at all about AAPI individuals and are just racist. We don't have to debate it and it's honestly not up for debate and while we could put our energy to trying to tear down their following and make them shut up, in a world where the KKK still exists and thrives, its an unlikely and futile of a goal to try ti achieve.

Instead its best imo to treat them like the public case study of white and western abuses to AAPI culture, particularly since time and time again they redisplay some of the most classic and frequently used techniques white and western individuals do to try to excuse their shit.

If you wouldn't give a person arguing with any other loud and proud bigot, its best to just accept that bigots be bigots and rather than banging your head against a wall, put it up for display on the museum wall as a means of education and awareness.

Theres no point in talking to bigots about how they are bigotted. There is, however, a point to displaying it for those less effected and usually not given the opportunity to sed it in full get a much closer look at some of the shit we deal with

I like to think that while a lot of white and western people suck, that a lot of them genuinely are trying their best with the limited awareness, access, and understanding that they have.

I dont feel as though I would be correct calling them and bigots a "small minority", but I'd like to think they aren't the majority and I honestly appreciate those willing to learn and better understand and so ya know? Whats a better way to explain it than with a live dancing monkey that loudly and proudly displays the behaviors in question for all to see.

Anyhow, I digress. Take this as you will. I am just throwing some insight and personal thoughts about specific users in hopes that some people who might be overly stressed about it might find a little more peace moderating the topic

[partoftheairforce]

hihi, sorry but im not really upto date kn info abt the band (the 1975), did matty adress the rina thing nd why r ppl talking abt jamie?

no worries! i will gladly get you up to date the best i can xxx let me know if you have any other questions 💋

matty/rina:

so no, matty has not addressed the rina situation. not only because he’s a stubborn idiot, but also because i think he’s quite ignorant about the affect that his words and actions have on the greater public.

obviously he needs to be held accountable for the things he has said and done. there is no question there at all. but i also think that the bands pr team (or seeming lack thereof) and how they are handling everything is absolutely dogshit, because in what world could this be acceptable behaviour to just push into a corner and let fester?

something i saw said about the band a few years earlier comes to mind: “It's great that we come here to admire their work but there's no reason to defend them with blind faith or place them on a pedestal removed from reality.”

jamie:

with jamie it’s a different issue for me. as people have been saying lately, the energy he gives off is “How do you do, fellow kids?” he is an old man that is trying to continue to appear relevant and educated in the minds of the new generation, and clearly he is not. it’s embarrassing to witness.

most importantly in my opinion, two years ago when the stuff about adam powell came to light, jamie took seven whole weeks to address it in any manner. obviously that is unacceptable. (look here for more on that)

he also always used to tweet about things that the band were supposedly doing, but they would never end up happening so that was pretty annoying.

overall it’s clear the man does jackshit and does not take his job seriously in the slightest. he gets payed to sit on his ass all day being a serial killer looking freak and frankly i’ve had enough.

i just feel like things would be so much better (and morally and ethically correct) if jamie got fired. and plus i would also have an excuse to throw a massive black party.

the rina things just brought these feelings to the forefront of people’s minds to the point where it’s become too much to let fester in that corner. i feel that her words just really personified and solidified the hurt that matty was causing.

sorry for writing you a fucking novel, but i hope i explained it good enough!! nevertheless, i really hope this helps xxx

[harudnae]

I marked Copper, Silver and Gold as complete but inspiration came back so here's more!

CW: character death, skip the last paragraph after the very last horizontal line if you want to avoid bad feelings.

Also posted on AO3 on 2024.02.19

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Roger x Rayleigh x Gaban

Summary: Their story is a funny story too, a tale full of laughter.

Content warnings: major character death (off-screen, at the very end of the fic), spoilers for Wano, idiots in love, fluff, feels, polyamory, heavy drinking, shanks x buggy kiss, rated M for nudity and mentions of sex

Word count: 3k

✨ Waraibanashi

Rayleigh laughs at the young wannabe-pirate telling him their meeting is fate.

Roger laughs too, and invites himself aboard his stolen ship.

He who laughs last, laughs best.

Roger is big, he's loud, he's proud and stubborn. And against all odds, his presence aboard the ship and into Rayleigh's life has become comfortable and familiar irritatingly fast.

Rayleigh can't wrap his mind about the undeniable fact that he now truly enjoys Roger's company, that he even finds himself looking forward to the next unlikely adventure he'd drag them into. The worst thing? He even laughs about it.

Roger brought him unpredictability, along with the audacity of someone who doesn't give a single fuck and simply lives.

Rayleigh just had to adapt and improvise, had to get out of his carefully constructed comfort zone so he could follow Roger. He's still asking himself why, because of course he's still wondering, Roger might have impacted the way he acts but he remains the same deep inside.

But it doesn't matter, there's no comfort zone anymore, or rather, Roger is his comfort zone. As long as they're together, Rayleigh's confident they can go through anything.

And Roger's right here, laughing his heart out on the deck under the storm that threatens to capsize their tiny ship.

And Rayleigh stares at him, thinking that his life is absolutely absurd. And then he laughs, because he wouldn't want it any other way.

Rayleigh ponders the mysteries of life. More precisely, he wonders how he developed such a huge crush on Roger.

It definitely started with Roger's comfortable presence in his life.

The way Rayleigh missed the familiar warmth by his side on the rare occasion when Roger woke up and got out of bed before him, the way Rayleigh knew he'd have a good day just because they would spend it together... He should have had a hint then, but it became clearer much later.

Then Roger wanted to explore the East Blue, and dragged him out of his comfort zone, always pushing him forward with unwavering trust that they'd get through anything together.

Rayleigh thought it was trust, and in a way, it is. But it's so blind, so solid and most importantly, it was there right away. Unlike trust, that would build over time after learning to know each other, something that just was from the instant they met. It was faith. And faith is something Rayleigh never had an interest in, until he started feeling something just close enough to it for Roger, too.

On the occasion when Rayleigh gets hurt in a fight, Roger goes berserk against the whole lot of their foes – these are the very, very rare moments where Rayleigh is slightly scared of Roger, but mostly proud and glad to be fighting by his side instead of against him – and afterwards, Roger always takes care of Rayleigh like he's the most precious thing in the world.

Slightly annoyed to be treated like he's made of glass, Rayleigh often complains then, but with time, he lets Roger tear down his barriers one by one, until he allows him to pamper him and give him all the affection he can.

Roger tells him then, "You always take such good care of me. You teach me stuff and cook good food. For once, I can take good care of you, too."

And only then it hits Rayleigh like a brick in the face. It's not trust, it's not faith, it's endless devotion, and it's mutual. He huffs a surprised laugh. "Okay. I can go with that." And for a while, he does, until something new starts bothering him.

Roger is a man. A very manly man.

Rayleigh has always been a ladies' man. Well... Rayleigh was a ladies' man, since apparently he's attracted to Roger too, now.

Roger. Big, loud, stubborn, affectionate, devoted Roger. Stupidly handsome, obnoxiously beefy, effortlessly charming Roger. A heart as big as the sun and hands twice as warm.

Rayleigh huffs a startled laugh when his dangerous train of thoughts derail.

Roger glances at him, smiling, then resumes peeling his share of potatoes. His skin is glistening with sweat under the sunlight filtering from the clouds.

Rayleigh's gaze travels up Roger's arm and follows the curve of his shoulder. His thoughts drift back to the warmth of Roger's skin, and Rayleigh feels the increasingly urgent need to feel it against his own. He wants to taste it. He shouldn't think about it too much, but it's so tempting.

Roger exhales a low chuckle. "I can feel your stare, you know."

Damn Observation Haki. Rayleigh tilts his head up and his gaze finds Roger's mouth stretched in a smile. He stares a little, wondering what these lips taste like, and by the time he finally meets Roger's gaze he thinks he's an idiot and he's probably just about to mess something up between them.

But Roger only smiles. "I can hear your gears turning from here."

Rayleigh exhales a surprised laugh. "Yeah, sorry."

"Say what you want", Roger invitingly says. After a quiet while, he adds, "I'd give you anything, you know."

Rayleigh's eyes open wide at that, and he just knows that he'd do the same, he's known for a while how devoted to each other they've been and– "I love you", he blurts out before his brain catches up.

Roger instantly lightens up, and he all but throws himself in for a searing kiss.

When they finally break apart, Rayleigh is positively out of breath and he has an uncontrollable fit of laughter at the absurdity of the situation, and the way Roger defused any worried he might have had like he always does.

Roger laughs too, eyes shining with mirth and want. "I love you, too."

Roger's been talking about recruiting more people for a couple of years now.

Rayleigh knows that eventually they'll need to do so since they want to head to the Grand Line soon, but he doesn't know where to start.

Does Roger have any idea how hard it is to find people they would want to travel the world with?

Eventually, they laugh with Gaban on the day they meet him, and they laugh again, all together aboard their small ship, at night after he agrees to sail with them.

It's absurd, the way he joins them, but Rayleigh doesn't mind half as much as he thought he would.

Rayleigh swears he was a ladies' man at some point in his life. And now he fears Roger might have twisted his preferences forever, because he thinks Gaban is very, very handsome.

Roger eventually solves the problem by revealing he's got a crush on him too, and from then on they all kind of, just, are together.

Rayleigh doesn't understand how it works, but it just does. He laughs at the absurdity of it all, and marvels at Roger's stubborn attitude that got him aboard that fateful day. He can't imagine his life without either of them now, and he's glad Roger insisted.

Gaban filled whatever space was left aboard their ship and in their hearts.

Now they feel complete, at last, ready to take the world by storm and mark history.

(As well as each other's skins, too, but that's another story.)

The day they take turns marrying themselves to one another gives them yet another collection of stories to retell and laugh about.

First, Roger is so impatient to get married to Rayleigh that he all but rushes the ceremony so that he can finally slide a gold ring on Rayleigh's finger and, most importantly, eat his face in front of everyone, smiling like an idiot.

Gaban rolls his eyes but doesn't really fare better when Rayleigh replaces him and takes his sweet time before they actually get to the point. He's antsy and seems just about to burst from anticipation alone when finally, Rayleigh calls for the rings.

And then Gaban can't find his.

It takes him all of ten frantic minutes to throw everything in his cabin upside down before he finally finds the two copper rings he just fucking forgot to take with him after days of preparation.

He's back flushed from embarrassment, under the roaring laughter of the whole crew.

Roger is more impatient than ever, and before the ring slides to his last knuckle, he pulls Gaban in for a fierce kiss.

Rayleigh joins the hollers and subsequent collective fit of laughter.

(They're idiots, but they're his idiots, and he loves them to the sun and back.)

Once copper and silver shine on his hand, Roger's eagerness turns a little softer, and he very seriously holds the last office of the day. He tears up a little when he gets to the rings, and he gives Rayleigh and Gaban a moment together before hauling both of them up for a tight hug. Their feet aren't back on the deck yet that Roger is already calling for the party.

They eat to their hearts content around the feast with their whole crew cheering for them all. They get stupid drunk and party until dawn, happy with their decision to get married at sea because the their ship is their home first and foremost, but also because no land could have possibly endured the ruckus they make that night.

And they're slurring and swaying, and they're clumsy once they drank the whole lot of their crewmates under the table, but they're stupidly in love and stupidly happy and also maybe, just a little, stupidly horny.

So they make their way over their drunken nakama sleeping on the decks, occasionally bumping on a leg or an arm, slurring half-baked excuses while their hands are busy doing anything else than steadying themselves.

They all have their coats and shirts off, they have been discarded for a good part of the night already, but they're all clearly intending to remove more layers of clothes and get all over each other.

Rayleigh clings onto Roger, fully taking advantage of his drunken state as an excuse to run his hands across Roger's heated skin.

(As if he ever needed an excuse. As if Roger wasn't enjoying the situation, too.)

Gaban isn't faring much better, shamelessly groping Rayleigh's ass while his mouth leans in, dangerously close to his neck and ear, warm breath fanning over pale skin. He bumps into another couple of their nakama before they finally reach Roger's cabin.

They stumble into the room and knee each other in their drunken haze, but they manage to undress and eventually find themselves together on the bed, looking at each other like animals in heat.

Rayleigh breaks the silence first, cheeks dusted with a light blush. "Will you both take me?"

Roger laughs loudly, earning a frown from Rayleigh.

Gaban doubles over, and he wears a smug grin when his laughter subsides. "Oh, yeah. We kinda had a bet on that."

Rayleigh glares at them, mock-offended. "Then what are you waiting for?" He cracks a smile then, and laughs with them.

Under Roger's guidance, Gaban steers the ship to the ends of the New World, to the island at the end of the Log Pose.

Rayleigh approaches Gaban when he remarks that the Log Pose needles are spinning aimlessly.

Roger grins, and exhales an excited hum.

Gaban cracks a smile of his own, and exchanges a knowing glance with Rayleigh before they both turn their attention to Roger.

"There must be another island. And we'll find it."

"We'll just have to follow, won't we?" Gaban exhales an exaggerated sigh.

"What a bummer", Rayleigh gently teases.

Roger laughs, shortly followed by his lovers and the rest of his crew.

Rayleigh's love for his partners is boundless. And he didn't know he could love even more.

And then they found a baby in a chest.

Rayleigh never really thought about being a father, then Roger didn't give anyone a choice, and now here they are.

Shanks giggles in the brand new cradle Gaban just finished.

Roger runs a hand across red hair, earning a happy squeak.

Rayleigh nudges his shoulder against Gaban's arm, then he nods towards their Captain, lover, husband, who somehow turned into an absolutely love-struck father. "He's such a softie."

Gaban adjusts his position against the railing and glances in Roger's direction, then he looks at Rayleigh from over his glasses. He deadpans, "Says who?"

Rayleigh gives him an unimpressed stare. "Don't make this a contest, you're no better."

"Says mama hen always careful that the baby eats properly."

"Who built that cradle?", Rayleigh counters before pointing at Roger, "And I'm not the one cooing either!"

Roger turns to them then, flashing them a bright smile. "Come, come", he eagerly says, motioning for them to approach.

Rayleigh exchanges a knowing look with Gaban and strides to the cradle around which they all gather.

Gaban's gaze softens when it falls on Shanks, comfortably installed and peacefully sleeping. He runs his hand across the blanket wrapped around the baby, absentmindedly checking if he's correctly tucked in.

Rayleigh exhales a quiet hum, and a soft smile grows on his face. He leans onto Roger, snuggling against his side, looking at the baby like it's the most precious thing in the world.

(Maybe it is.)

Roger suddenly laughs. "I'm with Gaban. If we're softies, you're sappy."

Rayleigh leans back and glares, slightly grimacing.

Gaban comes closer and leans onto him, effectively trapping Rayleigh between him and Roger as he starts laughing too.

Smothered between his lovers, Rayleigh has little other choice but to just endure his terrible predicament.

(Who is he even trying to lie to? Stuck between his lovers, a terrible predicament? He'll gladly spend his life here if he can.)

Eventually, Rayleigh draws the conclusion that they're assorted bastards, softies at heart with endless loyalty and love to each other.

It's stupid, but it's simple and it works, and most important: it's them.

And that makes him laugh too.

Gaban does his best to keep the ship steady under the raging storm.

Rayleigh, unfazed, studies the copy of the Poneglyph they got while they wandered on Linlin's turf. "This one was red. I bet it's more important than the others."

Roger dangerously smiles. "Great. That makes it even more interesting!" He glances behind and laughs his ass off when Linlin's ship capsizes a little further away. "Wahahahaha! Serves her well!"

Shanks and Buggy are inseparable, often bickering but never far from one another, even more often all over each other, whether during chores, training, exploring or keeping watch in the lookout.

Rayleigh wonders if there's more to their friendship that meets the eye, if there's something deeper. They're still kids to him, but they're teenagers already, so he wonders.

He wonders, until he finds the boys hidden in the pantry, their lips messily slotted together, Shanks' ears as red as his hair while Buggy's hands tightly grip his collar.

Rayleigh quietly retreats to the upper deck, and tells Gaban when he meet him on his way there.

Gaban exhales an awkward chuckle. "Oh, yeah, we must have given great examples."

Rayleigh half-heartedly glares.

Gaban shrugs. "What? They love each other, either way. Let them kiss, we'll give them the talk soon."

Rayleigh cringes a little.

Gaban raises a threatening finger. "Don't. No complaining or I'll ask Roger instead."

Rayleigh barks a laugh at that. "Yeah... No, thanks."

They meet with Tom in Water 7, following Nozdon's recommendation when they're looking to buy a bigger ship.

Tom agrees to build them a fancy new one so they can reach their dream destination.

Rayleigh laughs along with his lovers, when they learn of The Fish-Man's idea of building a sea train to travel between islands.

(The world is full of crazy people, but their friends are always the good kind of crazy.)

Rayleigh smiles when he watches over the gift exchange following their battle against the Whitebeard Pirates.

When Oden joins them, they throw yet another party where everyone eats and drinks and laughs to their heart content.

Then they embark for the last leg of their incredible journey, singing an old shanty about drinks and dreams and laughter.

On the final island, Roger laughs.

Gaban doubles over and falls over Rayleigh.

Rayleigh wraps an arm around Gaban's shoulder for support, and only laughs louder, tears prickling at the corners of his eyes.

It had to be absurd, it had to be magnificent, and it had to make them smile and laugh. It had to be just like Roger, and it's perfect.

(Rayleigh wishes their kids were here. He hopes they come back when they're older, as they promised.)

Roger names the island, and it rings truer than any name this forsaken island could have ever had.

It sounds like them, too, and that's something Rayleigh will treasure forever.

About a year later, Roger has the last laugh and sends the world in an uproar, completely fulfilling the promise he made to Rayleigh on the day they first met.

Rayleigh laughs again, even as his tears soak his smile.

(He knows that somewhere on the other side of the world, Gaban is doing just the same.)

He laughs to honor Roger's memory, crying for his loss but no less proud to have been by his side for such an important part of his incredible adventure. And he laughs, and he cries, and he drinks and laughs again. And when his tears have dried, he patiently waits for his time to shine again. He waits for the man Roger wishes he could have met and for the one yet to come, for the man from the young mermaid's prophecy.

He waits for the one who will bring laughter to the world again.

Copper, Silver and Gold: 1 - 2 - 3 - 4 - 5 - [6] - 7

[sabweenie]

hiromi higuruma [unofficial] official birthday

turns out Higuruma doesn't have an official birthday, so I spent the last three and a half hours looking through astrological charts from 1982 to come up with his Unofficially Official birthday. I am by no means an astrology expert, but I had an intense phase in high school and feel like I know enough to provide some decent justification for this. If I'm like, horrendously off on something here you can message me about it or something. Anyways, I'm pretty confident going with May 7th 1982 at 12:27 AM...

taurus sun

I was really indecisive about whether to give him a Scorpio or Taurus sun, but I think the Taurus sun was better for capturing his stubbornness and groundedness. A fixed sign was for sure the way to go. Thinking about when he said he will be going back to his "roots" and his immovable dedication to what he believes in (justice) felt fitting.

gemini mercury

Had to step back for a moment after I came up with this one and take a breather because damn! Chefs kiss! This placement especially paired with that Taurus sun makes him the most annoying motherfucker ever (I love him). I read a lot about how people who have this Gemini Mercury placement are extremely doubtful and very suspiciuos, and have a really hard time getting behind anything unless there's solid proof to convince him. I though this was perfect especially given how his domain expansion is built for this exactly! I also read that people with this placement are super smart, and this checks out given Higuruma is described as a genius.

scorpio moon

Since I figured a Taurus sun would be more fitting for him, I decided to give him a Scorpio moon placement instead. And I feel like I made the right choice. Scorpio moons are extremely perceptive, quick to notice changes in those around him. But what is most True in my opinion is how this characterization falls in line with how Higuruma puts his 100% into everything he applies himself to. I think his Scorpio moon and Gemini mercury combined are the Perfect justification for why he challenges himself by taking on the most impossible of legal cases. I also read about how in relationships, this placement expresses itself as being really into commitment, and also with a huge fear or betrayal. The issues regarding betrayal are huge in Higuruma's character, given the way he reacted when he was betrayed by the legal justice system after losing Oe's case. So, I think it would definitely make sense if these issues were also present when it comes to his interpersonal relationships.

aries venus

I'm... to shy to talk about this right now. Just trust me. I'm right about this.

aquarius rising

Giving Higuruma an Aquarius rising was a requirement from the start, and was the initial building block for all this madness. I have a hard time believing that any other ascendant placement will put that much effort into creating such a Strange first impression on the next random person they meet (yes, I am talking about the bathtub spotlight stage set up). I thought of a Leo rising maybe, but a cardinal rising just didn't feel right for him. My first impressions of the guy were 1) what a weirdo and 2) he's so fucking cool. He's very concerned with what the world should look like and how things should be (thinking about how curious he was about how the Culling Game would play out and how it would change the world) and these things all fit into my understanding of Aquarius risings. It just works.

that's all.

[chaoticparker]

Gone, Gone

Peter parker x reader

Summary: Things go wrong on the last mission, now Peter is dealing with the consequences

w: angst, death, canon typical violence,

w/c: 3k

a/n: sorry this took forever anon, and this is my first time writing angst while trying some different writing techniques out so please be nice lmao. btw planning on posting a tasm fic soon that will make up for all of the sadness here :)

masterlist

Peter has never been known to remember things. You’d joke that with his big brain things would get lost so easily in there. He needed reminders and alarms to be set up so he could remember all of the homework, missions and most importantly your dates. His calendar was booked to the brim just so he wouldn’t hyperfocus onto one thing for too long—the hyperfocus mainly being trying to find the most perfect date—and so he knew what was coming up; because with a job with too many surprises, he liked feeling in control.

But all of that planning, all of the mess that was his brain, all of his forgetfulness; it was never enough for him to forget your scream.

The team was out for a mission—a supposed easy one at that—and it was all going well until about five minutes in where it turned out to be an ambush. Some SHIELD member double crossed everyone, and now you're paying for it.

It all happened so fast, the gun-shots, the yelling, and explosions; all too much to focus on one thing, all too much for a person to handle. Yet somehow, you pulled through, not letting that Avengers training go to waste. Grabbing Peter and pushing him out of the way from the roof falling apart, separating the two of you between a wall of rubble.

Peter groaned as he sat up, his vision blurring in and out of focus. He heard commotion in his comms, Tony’s voice pitching in and out, asking if you or Peter was hurt. Peter just muttered something incomprehensible, Tony could only make out separated and help. But it was too late for any help. Once everything cleared in his eyes just when his world came to an end.

He heard the most gut-wrenching scream coming from the other side, your side. Peter got up and yelled while clutching his ribs, he scrambled to the barrier. Using his remaining super strength, he pushed forward and knocked it down. He stumbled forward when he did but his head was going light, and his vision going dark. Yet, he couldn’t see you, couldn’t sense you, and soon he collapsed.

He woke up almost exactly 24 hours later on an ICU bed in the Avengers tower, he had tubes going up his nose uncomfortably, a tube in his hand connecting to an IV bag, and little monitors on the ends of his hands contributing to the annoying beeping. It was all overwhelming, he pulled the needles out of him, ripping the tubes from his face, and taking the heart rate monitors off.

The beeping got louder and an alarm was triggered, but Peter still got out of the bed. His head was killing and his vision started to go dark again.

He heard noises coming from the hallway and a tiresome Tony Stark and Bruce Banner burst through the door. “Peter what the fuck are you doing?” Tony tried to push Peter back onto the bed, but Peter was stubborn. What little strength he gained back he used to stay standing; and when Peter couldn’t push past him it made him feel more helpless. Before, he could push past anything with his super strength. A bunch of gang members? No problem. A car spinning out of control? Easy. The 463 ton subway train that villains target way too much? Give him a challenge.

But now he couldn’t push past a 50 year old man?

How pathetic.

“Peter, you need to lay back down.” Bruce came up to them and tried to help Tony, but Peter wouldn’t budge.

“What happened?”

“Peter you need to lie down-” Tony tried, using all of his strength and regretting not bringing his thrusters.

“I can’t remember—there was a wall a-and-”

“Peter, please, you need sleep. Bruce get the sedative-”

“No. No! I heard a scream. A-and I tried to get through but-.” Peter stopped talking and standing his ground. He was pushed back on the bed, still sitting up. Bruce had the mask ready, about to usher him back down until Peter looked up. Slowly lifting his head to face Tony, to look him in the eye.

“Where-?” Peter’s eyes were red, and his cheeks started to flush. Tony knew the words were coming but they were so quiet, almost like a small prayer.

“Peter, you need to lie down, you took quite a beating.” Peter knew what that meant and allowed Tony to push him laying down. His body worked quicker than his brain could, he started crying and then he started to thrash while being pushed down by Tony, not making any coherent sentences.

“Bruce.” Tony pressured. Bruce seemed to snap out of his thoughts and made sure the sedative was ready. Putting the mask over Peter’s face, counting down from ten. When he finished counting, Peter was just starting to calm down. They doubled the dosage, allowing for his fast metabolism to play in.

“Bring Wanda in so he doesn’t have nightmares.” Was the last thing Peter heard before his brain started to rest.

When Peter next woke up, he felt weird. People acting on eggshells around him. No usual banter from Bucky and Sam, and Tony wasn’t nagging Peter to work in the lab. But the pain was there, never quite being baribale enough to have a normal day, hour, minute, or even a second.

The first couple weeks Peter didn’t sleep. The day was spent avoiding the Avengers, trying to find places to hide without their painful ‘support’, or whatever those tight-lipped smiles and watching eyes were. The night on the other hand was filled with deep dives into the crime organization--the one that you were supposedly going to take down that day--and trying to track your coms.

It got so bad that Tony even said something. Trying to get Peter to sleep in his old Avengers room that he hasn’t touched in years. Years ago when you and Peter were two fresh-faced Avengers, hopeful about your new life of crime-fighting. When you two never thought that you would meet your soulmate, but then again, he never thought you would be dea-, no, missing.

Peter never used that word, it was too soon, and honestly, he never wanted to think like that.

The other Avengers never thought like Peter though, calling themselves realistic as opposed to Peters 'delusional’ optimism. He overheard one day that they were talking about possible funeral options, and never in his life had he felt more shock and betrayal.

He didn't want another funeral, he didn’t want to put on that suit in the back of the closet, he didn’t want to have another gravestone to visit, and he didn’t want to visit it alone.

He ran out of the tower and headed to the only place he knew he had to go. He went to the site, swinging over as quick as he could, which was slower then normal. He hadn’t gotten this much exercise in a while, he had informally stopped being Spider-man, days spent at his desk on his computer trying to find any source of you.

When he got there, the building was no more than bricks and dust. He calmed down, taking a deep breath, trying to regain his super senses. He waited for anything, any sort of twinge in the air that ment you came back here, that you are alive.

He waited for two hours, not moving, just breathing. Soon enough Tony had flown down next to him, landing a bit behind him. Tony had tracked Peter’s suit here, but Tony should have just assumed where he would go.

“Kid, this isn’t your fault.”

Peter tensed, his hands fisting together to the point where his nails might poke through the fabric of his suit.

What did he know? He wasn’t there.

“It is.” Peter finally admitted out loud. Tony stepped out of the suit and walked in front of Peter, bringing him into a hug. Peter let his emotions go wild, crying and staining Tony’s shirt.

“Peter, you can’t do this to yourself-”

“My senses weren’t working, Y/n pushed me out of the way.” Peter pushed back from Tony, suddenly feeling disguised with himself. He looked down at his fingertips through his spider-eye filled with tech. What's the point of having the suit if I can’t even do its job? He took the mask off of his face and threw it on the ground.

“I should’ve saved Y/n. I should have known then and there that the roof was going to collapse, I should’ve gotten us out of there.”

Tony didn’t know what to say, and honestly Peter wasn’t expecting anything else. He didn’t need Tony’s fake words, saying what he’s been trying to convince himself. But there was no use, Peter knew it wasn’t true.

“Just give it one more month.” Peter pleaded, stepping away from Tony. “One more month until a funeral.”

With a thwip, Peter swung himself off, back to the city and away from that mess. Peter ended up going to the towers and ripped his suit off like it was on fire. It landed in the trash can and Peter sighed, thinking it was fitting. If he can’t save the most important soul in his life as Spider-man, he doesn’t deserve to be called a hero and save others.

He didn’t want to be here anymore, not around the Avengers, not around the people who moved on when they realized they completed the mission. People who didn’t care about the only person would make him feel lucky in this fucked up life. People who didn’t love you the way he did and never would. So he went to the only place where he could get his thoughts out. Leaving the tower unnoticed and headed back home.

He hadn’t been back here since the night before the mission. You both were laying down on the couch watching some movie while you talked about how shit it was. Peter was laughing while you complained, loving the way you told off the characters for doing something dumb or said how the script writers botched the plot. He thought it would last forever, you and him cuddled up together, laughing and just being happy.

But when he opened that door a familiar aroma filled the air, his scenes could always pick up on the smells of your shared home. Normally after coming home from patrol with you he would welcome it, but now he wished that he couldn’t smell it. Not wanting to be reminded or making anything more painful.

He walked over to your shared room and collapsed on the bed, still sleeping on his side, not daring to disturb your side. He twisted and turned in his sleep but the bed just felt too empty. He got up and gathered the pillows and blankets you commonly used and placed them under the bed covers on your side. Yeah, it’s pretty sad, but this whole situation is, the only person who’s opinion mattered was dea-, no, missing.

You being dead is not an option.

The next couple of weeks hurt more and more. Working at home, Peter tried to find any sort of hint that you're here, but it was no use. Some days he thought anything and everything was a clue sent by you, even the old bodega cat at Delmars that was never too fond of Peter unless you were with him and meowed at him a couple times. And other times, there seemed to be absolutely no hope left.

Aunt May saw Peter on the night before the end of the month. Tony had called her after knowing the date and asked if there was anything she could do. But when May opened the door with her spare key, she was not expecting this at all. The floor was clean, everything looked dusted, the kitchen was neat and everything was in its rightful spot, but when May saw the dinner table she knew that he wasn’t like this for himself.

It was set up like at a fancy dinner, candles and a lighter in the middle along with a rose. Plates and silverware neatly placed in your and Peter's unassigned-assigned seats. When she actually saw Peter, she nearly started crying. He was dressed nicely, grey pants and black button up, he looked all put together, except for his hair, they were in their messy curls, just how you like it.

“Peter.” She cried, but she didn’t know what else to say. She didn’t act this way when Peter's parents passed, or even Uncle Ben. She grieved, and to this day always has Ben in her thoughts, but this seemed like too much for someone like Peter who's already gone through too much.

He told her he wanted things to be normal, to go back to things that were planned. Just one more night.

May nodded and let him be. She didn’t want to, but whenever he thought back to your date nights, or really any moment with you, he was happy. And that's all she wanted for him.

Peter thought it would make him feel better, the fake little date. But he was just delaying the inevitable, pretending that tomorrow he wouldn’t be burying a coffin that wasn’t even filled just so your friends and family that didn’t know about your secret life would have closure. But Peter wouldn’t.

Every day he would wake up knowing that it is his fault that you aren’t here to see another day with him. That you aren’t here to tell Peter when he’s being dumb. That you aren’t here to be reminded how Peter loves you more than life itself.

When Peter awoke the next day, he put on his suit and got out his tie and the velvet box. He stood in front of the mirror in his bathroom and looked at himself and sighed. He wrapped the tie around his neck and started to poorly tie the knot.

“I’ve always loved you.” He started. “When you first bumped into me and gave me that smile, fuck, it felt like my stomach was gonna vomit a bunch of hearts and stars. I just wanted to make you smile for the rest of my life.”

He messed up on the tie knot, he undid his tie and let it hang around his neck. He looked at the box, reaching his hand out to touch it, right when there were a couple faint knocks at the door. He froze, thinking he just imagined it. He tried again to touch the box, but when he couldn’t he slammed his fists down on the bathroom countertop, causing a loud crash of granite breaking and the cabinets underneath to break.

It looked like a complete mess, but god-damn it felt so good to let his anger out.

“I know that the Avengers are trying to get me to move on with this... funeral. But, I don’t know, shouldn’t a wedding come before a funeral?” He sighed again, this time, being able to grab the velvet box and open it up to see the ring.

“I got the ring after that mission in Argentina when we had to follow that mafia leader. I remember we were undercover as a couple and we got fake rings. For the whole evening we had to pretend we were on our honeymoon.” He chuckled at the memory. He looked at himself in the mirror, judging every part of what he saw.

“I was planning to propose yesterday. I had everything set up how I wanted it last night. May probably thought i was going insane but…” His voice trailed off. He couldn’t convince himself that he wasn’t slowly going insane without you.

“I know you would say that I’m not getting enough sleep, but I can’t sleep. Some days I can’t even get up.” He laughed. Wiping his nose with his sleeve. “My love for you is like some sort of infection and I just know that it will kill me.”

Another pause. “It’s a weird feeling because I know what your answer would be. And I just wanted to see you smile one more time. What I would do just to hear you laugh. Fuck, I would destroy the fucking world just to tell you that I love you.”

“I just hope that you wou- could still love me, just like I love you.”

“Hey Pete?”

Peter whipped his head around, expecting to see you out of some sort of miracle. But it was just Wanda, standing in her black dress, that was all too well-worn.

You only call him Pete, no one else. Why does Wanda think she has that right?

He must’ve been making a face because Wanda started to look more apologetic than before. “Sorry, Peter, it’s just that it's time to go.”

Peter shut the box and put it in his pocket and pushed past Wanda and out the door and walked down to the black car waiting for them. Peter sat in the back alone, and Wanda sat up front with the driver, who must’ve been Happy.

Peter’s heart rate started to go up each time the car came to a stop. He didn’t want to come to the actual burial site, he didn’t want to admit that it could be all over; he didn’t want to admit that he would never finish college with you, he would never propose, never get married, along with countless other never’s.

But the one that stung Peter the most was never being able to tell you that he loves you, just one more time.

When they eventually did arrive, it was all a blur to him. Getting out of the car, the speeches--at one point he had to turn down saying a speech, he said all he needed to before in the bathroom--the people giving him their condolences, and the placing of a white chrysanthemum on the coffin.

A small bit of hope still remains in him to this day. He knows that you’re not in the coffin, this is just an act for those who didn’t know about your more heroic life and it’s a weird way of closure for the others. But one day he will find you. One day he will hug you again. One day he will be able to say ‘I love you’ to you again.

He has to tell himself that. He has too. But this all seemed to real.

The rest of the Avengers watched Peter as the coffin was being lowered. He had a single tear running down his already tear stained cheeks and his eyes were glued onto the hole in the ground. They all shared a look between each other, reminding each other of a promise they will keep until they’re the one that is being buried:

That the coffin is not empty.

[spidernerdsblog]

most of richkid/frat boy fic have got this shy and naive reader, so i was wondering if you could write it with Tom and a confident and sassy reader? With maybe real degradation when he successfully beds her?

Love your writing btw <3

NEED TO KNOW

A/N : a oneshot after a long time. Hope you like this. Let me know what you think.

Summary : people can be lovers and enemies at the same time, you know.

Pairing : Tom Holland x Reader (richkid AU, enemies -> fuckers)

Warnings : 18+, SMUT, minors DNI, shitty boyfriend, degradation, spit play, oral (m receiving), choking, dumbification, unprotected sex (wrap it before you tap it) II w.c - 6k+

The moment you landed in Ibiza you had everything mapped out in your head of how you were going to spend the next two weeks of your exotic Spanish vacation. That was to go for a swim in the clear blue waters and bask in the warmth of the sun kissed beach for which you had specifically packed some of your prettiest beachwear. Later on lounging in your private yacht with your latest boyfriend Chad watching the sunset while sipping on sangrias. But given your current circumstances you have hit a little snag with your plans. 

Dressed in black trousers and a white blouse paired with an open front white jacket, you glanced down at your shining wrist watch from Tiffany, your heels clicking against the polished marble floor as you paced back and forth the resort lobby. The meeting was supposed to start an hour ago, letting out an exasperated sigh you mentally curse the one and only person you despise in this world the most and the reason for this delay, Tom Holland. 

He was the oldest son of your dad’s longtime business partner so you had no escape from him. Every galas, luncheons, fundraisers or dinner parties you had to see his stupid gorgeous face. Sometimes people do get lucky or else how can an asshole like him be so good looking. Though you never got the appeal the very sound of his voice annoys you which makes you wonder what do people, especially girls, find so enticing about him? Except that he was reckless, impulsive and a total fuckboy. 

But one thing about him that seems to be applaudable is that Tom knew business. There wasn't a single meeting where he came back without getting the deal. He was smooth and had his way with his words, enough to convince the investors and that is why everyone adored him including your dad who saw him as the next CEO of this company. 

And that’s where the rivalry began, you both wanted the company and you are not going to let it go so easily. You could never stand each other though it was mostly you because he has always been polite and flirty with you that just irked you even more. It was this never ending chase of cat and mouse between you throwing insults back and forth to get a rise on the other.

You finally caught sight of him across the corridor in a powdery blue ensemble consisting of fitted trousers, crew neck t-shirt and a slim fit jacket paired with dark blue espadrilles. Tom had taste there was no doubt in that. He was walking in a hurry while trying to push back that one stubborn curl which always manages to fall over his face despite the amount of gel he used.

“Look who decided to finally grace us with their presence” you scoffed with a scowl on your face. 

“Hello Y/N surprised to see you here, love. Don’t you have your little dress up parties to attend?” he quipped back with a cocky grin. 

“It’s called a fashion week, Thomas, which you have zero knowledge about and it shows by your inadequate taste. Pairing a suit from Hugo boss with shoes from Gucci seriously? What a waste of money and a sore to the eye” you mocked him deliberately.

“Aww didn't know you cared for me so much. Hope your little boy toy isn't upset about your obsession for me” he bit back with a sarcastic tone. 

“First of all I don't give a fuck about you and secondly he is my boyfriend” you stated out agitated which only made his smile grow wider.

“Who are you kidding darling? He's with you just for your dad's money and of all you know it better”

“Excuse me, the last thing I want is relationship advice from someone who hasn't been in one like forever” you sneered. Tom was about to give another snarky reply but was interrupted by Anders, your dad’s assistant for the last thirty years. He's more of a family now.

“Are you two done? The meeting starts in a few minutes” he scolded both of you.

“Well it would have been over by now if someone had arrived on time. Now I have to cancel my herbal body wrap appointment at the spa” you grumbled striding away to the board room as Tom rolled his eyes and followed you shortly.

****

Board meetings bored you to death. It's always these old men arguing over the same things again and again. And ever since your dad gave you the responsibility of the publication house that your family owned you were forced to attend these monthly meetings. You sat there playing with the pen in your hand as your eyes wandered across the room to stop at the person sitting right opposite to you. 

Tom was quite invested in the whole meeting, listening to it carefully, occasionally taking down notes on the notepad kept in front of him on the glass table. It felt like time had slowed down and suddenly he became the most interesting subject for you in the whole room. Your eyes were now focused on him studying each and every detail. His freckle scattered face, his slightly crooked nose, that unruly eyebrow which you were always tempted to fix or how his eyes would wrinkle around the corners when he smiled or that very stubborn curl finding its way back to fall over his face which made a small smile creep up your own face. 

Your eyes trailed down further to his hands resting on the table, the very expensive Rolex glinting on his left wrist. How he held the pen between his long bony fingers and the veins popping with every slight movement of his wrist as you subconsciously bite the corner of your lips. It would be a lie if you said that he never invaded your thoughts once in a while, spiraling into some inappropriate places and fantasizing about him in not so innocent ways. Because let's face it he was cute and you may or may not have a little crush on him. And when he is not being a jerk he can be a real sweetheart even helping you out with the business. This duality of him confused you at times; it was like you wanted to kiss him and kill him at the same time.

You had no idea how long you were staring at him like that but soon you were brought back from your lust filled daze when Tom cleared his throat a little loudly to get your attention. You blinked and lifted your gaze to meet with his honey brown eyes, a smug grin plastered on his face as he had caught you red handed. He gave you a subtle wink and heat rose up your face in embarrassment. You looked away flustered, finally paying attention to whatever your father was saying.

“Okay as you can see there has been a sudden dip in the stock value of our company. The shares aren’t performing that well. So we have decided to cut some layoffs and we need everyone’s opinion on where the layoffs could be done” he explained. 

“It’s pretty simple actually that fashion magazine that we have invested in nobody cares about that” Tom remarked knowing how much it will irk you up.

“Excuse me, the publication is by far the best investment we have ever made. Our fashion page has around 8 million followers across the globe. Why don’t we shut down the luxury golf course instead?” you fired back. 

“Oh please we get lots of visitors all year round” he countered. 

“Yeah which mostly include a handful of shrewd old men”

“Yeah at least it’s helping them maintain their fitness and pass their time. What does your magazine do except gossip and fashion?” he argued. 

“Well it also talks about how to please women in bed. You should definitely give that a read, Thomas” you teased as his lips quirked into a smirk. 

“Oh darling I don’t need your stupid magazine to up my game cause--” 

“Enough! Both of you! We asked for solutions not more chaos” you father interrupted with a stern gaze.

“Sorry daddy”, “Sorry Mr. Y/L/N” you both mumbled an apology 

“Now can we talk about the business like grown up adults?” 

“Yeah sure, let’s talk numbers shall we?” you proposed moving forward to share your opinion “the fiscal turnover of the publication has been $3.9 million which is 30% more than the golf course and our stockholders are eager to invest more since the digital launch of our fashion magazine got a very good response. So clearly the golf course is draining a lot of money unnecessarily. I think everyone agrees on that?” 

“We agree, thank you so much Y/N” Tom’s dad nodded in agreement along with your dad and the other board members before turning to him “Tom we have to cut this year’s budget for the golf course”

“What? But dad -” Tom looked at his father in disbelief.

“Y/N is right in this matter so no further discussions over this” he said and Tom had to back off. 

“Ok so everything seems settled, see you at the gala tonight gentlemen” your dad said ending the meeting. Slowly everyone got up from their seats and made their way out of the room. Tom's face was pulled up in a frown while you had a wide grin on your face reveling upon your victory. 

“You think you won?”

“Think? I already did, you dumbass” you snickered and as Tom opened his mouth to say something you cut him off “sorry I don’t have much time to argue with you gotta go and select my outfit for the gala, see ya later sucker”   

“Fuck you Y/N!” he cursed fuming.

“You wish Holland” you sent a wink on his way with a sly smirk on your face. 

Tom watched you walk you away with a frown on his face, never missing the subtle sway in your hips with every stride you take. To be honest he neither hated you nor did he like you. If he had to be specific you were the classic stone cold bitch who always manages to get on each and every nerve of his. He wanted to hate you but then he can never ignore the fatal attraction he had towards you. 

You were smart, competent, charismatic and savvy who always knew what she wanted and did everything to get it. The perfect boss lady in the making. But the thing that he loved about you the most is despite your hard, unflinching exterior you had a good heart and always tried to do the right thing. Though you never let anyone see that side of yours not after your mother passed away when you were in middle school but knowing you for all these years he sees right through you.

Sometimes he may have stared at you a little longer and why wouldn't he? You were gorgeous. It may sound creepy but he had memorized each and every little habit of yours. Be it the way you flipped your hair haughtily or how your eyes sparkled when you were excited about something or the way you bite your lips when anxious. Oh that lip bite though. He had a certain kind of weakness to it. There was something innocent as well as seductive when you did that which only made him think of the things he could do to you if you were his. And that is why he was never fond of your boyfriends. He knew they were just a bunch of jerks who were just after your money. In those kinds of situations Tom couldn’t help but feel protective of you because somewhere inside his heart he fancied you. 

****

The gala had already begun, the hall was buzzing with guests and soft music played in the background to create the perfect ambience. Tom was standing near the open bar with a glass of whisky in his hand talking to one of the investors. He went to take a sip of his drink when you walked in dressed in a long gold sequin dress with a plunging V-neckline hugging your body at the right places paired with meshwork pointy-toe stilettos from Louboutin, hair set into loose curls cascading down your shoulders complimented by your dewy makeup. Tom checked you out through the rim of his glass but then he saw Chadwick by your side and his mood went sour. 

You went on to mingle with the guests while sneaking a peek of Tom through the corner of your eye, looking handsome as always in those fitted suits and obviously surrounded by a group of ladies giggling at his wisecracks and throwing themselves at him. It only made you roll your eyes and scoff at how predictable he was. You don’t know if it was the champagne or just your repressed feelings that you felt a subtle hint of jealousy creeping inside you. Sometimes you really wished he would be friendly with you as he is with others though you kinda brought that upon yourself with your mean attitude towards him.

You brushed away those thoughts and looked around to find your boyfriend was missing as usual. You met Chad at one of these galas six months ago and you both had hit it off then and there. This was the longest relationship you’ve ever had. He seemed like a nice guy compared to your previous boyfriends and you had a feeling that he might be the one but lately you have been second guessing that idea too. 

You felt tired, your legs aching from standing for such a long time in those high heels as you went and took a seat on one of the nearby tables. Tom was quick to notice you sitting all by yourself as he excused himself and beelined his way towards your table. 

“Aww all alone?” he teased, pulling out a chair and sat down next to you. 

“What do you want, Thomas?” you scoffed rolling your eyes. 

“Nothing just thought to give you some company since your dummy bf dumped you”

“Nobody dumps me, it's me who dumps people” you sassed.

“So then where is your dear Chad?” he asked with a knowing smirk.

“I don’t know and I don't care! He is a grownup man he can do whatever he likes” you stated.

“Woah no need to get so worked up sweetheart. I was just joking” he laughed.

“Why don’t you go and tell your horrible jokes to your lady friends? I'm sure they will find them funny just to sleep with you” you said with irritation.

“C’mon my jokes are funny ok” he frowned “but the thing I find more interesting at the moment that is you’ve been watching me. Hmm no doubt you are really obsessed with me eh” he smirked. 

“You!!” you fumed and stood up from your seat stomping your feet as you turned to leave.

“Now where are you going?” he called you back. 

“Away from you!” you huffed and stormed out of the hall to the lawn outside. Breathing in the fresh air you finally felt relaxed as you looked around the resort when someone caught your eyes near one of the pillars in the corridor. You squint your eyes trying to figure out who it was, the suit jacket appearing familiar to you. You slowly walked in the direction and your eyes went wide as you saw your boyfriend in between a very hot makeout session with one of the barmaids.    

“You fucking son of a bitch!” you roared from behind startling them. The girl ran inside as Chad looked at you with wide eyes.

“Y/N...”

“Don’t you say a word. We’re done!” you were hurt and were feeling terrible but you tried to hide your emotions under your angry demeanor.

“Y/N just listen to me” he took your hands in his but you were quick to pull them away.

“What more do you have to say huh? Just get out of here I don’t wanna see your face again” you told him.

“Hey I love you believe me”

“This is what you call love? Making out with some random chick behind my back?!” you yelled at him.

“I had too much to drink. I wasn’t thinking straight trust me” he said in his defense.

“Bullshit! You knew exactly what you were doing! I should have known you’re no better than the rest of guys who were just after my money” 

“Oh give me a break! With a spoilt brat like you any man would look for a little escape” he snapped at you.

“What did you say?” you were baffled by his audacity.

“You heard me sweetheart” he smiled crookedly “you really think everyone kisses your daddy’s ass so I would do the same? May I remind you are nothing without his name and money”

“What do you think of yourself? I gave you a little bit of attention and you seem to have grown wings. Don’t forget your worth is not even close to the shoes I wear!” you jibed with distaste in your voice which clearly offended his ego.

“You bitch!” he aggressively went to grab your arm but Tom showed up in time. He had followed you after you stormed out of the party and found you in a heated argument with Chad. 

“Yo mate back off!” Tom pushed Chad aside and stood guarded in front of you “what’s the matter bro? Didn’t your parents teach you to be nice to women?”

“You stay out of this, it's none of your business!” Chad barked at him.

“Well if that's the case my family owns half of this resort so whatever happens in its premises is totally my business” Tom tells him calmly before his voice drops an octave “and if you dare to touch her again I wouldn’t mind breaking that hand of yours. Now piss off!” he gave him a warning glare as Chadwick scuttled off leaving you two alone.

“You alright?” Tom looked at you with concern.

“Yeah” your voice was small.

“You need something?” 

“No, I better go back to my room. If anybody asks about me tell them I wasn’t feeling well” you told him.

“Let me walk you to your room” he offered.

“No need for that I’m fine” you dismissed him waving your hand.

“I know you are but still I want to” he insisted and you didn’t argue any further.

Reaching in front of the elevator he pressed the button, the doors slid open as you stepped in and stood next to each other. The elevator starts ascending as you let out a sigh slouching against the cold metal wall gazing down at your feet.

“Thanks by the way” there you finally said it, swallowing your pride which made him perk up and turn his body slightly towards you.

“Wait a minute, am I hearing wrong or did the Y/N Y/L/N is actually being nice to me for the first time?” he remarked with a look of surprise on his face making you regret instantly.

“Oh god it was a mistake, I take that back” you groaned, throwing your head back.

“No, no you already said it can't take it back now” he chortled as you silently accepted your defeat because for the first time he was right and also he stood up for you that is so unlikely of him to do at least for you.

“See I told you he was a jerk” he added and you knew he’s never going to let this go.

“Yeah, yeah I know. You don’t have to rub it on my face now” you huffed holding back the urge to roll your eyes. 

“Can’t help it. You really do have a poor taste in men” he snickered.

“You’re such an asshole” you grimaced. 

****

Arriving at your floor you swiped the keycard opening the door to your suite and turned to Tom who was about to leave “you wanna join me for a drink?” you don’t know why you offered but you wished he would agree to stay for some more time. 

“Would never say no to that” he said with a boyish grin and walked inside as you closed the door behind you. 

“Wine for the lady?” he asked, shrugging off his jacket and placing it on the armrest of the couch.

“Nah I need something strong” you said kicking off your heels and plopped on the couch feeling exhausted.

“So bourbon it is,” he chuckled, unbuttoning the first two buttons of his shirt and rolling up his sleeves as he strolls to the minibar. You couldn’t help but shamelessly ogle at his hands, veins popping out as he reaches out for the bottle of bourbon and then grabs two glasses from the cabinet. He sat next to you and opened the bottle pouring you and himself a drink. You took your glasses and clinked them together before gulping down the drink and went for a second round. No words were exchanged as you both sat there drinking silently but Tom didn’t fail to notice the slight crease on your forehead.  

“Stop thinking about that jerk he isn’t worth it” his voice breaks you out of your thoughts.

“But I can’t, I can’t stop thinking about what he said and the fact that it’s actually true makes it even worse. I mean how much ever I accomplish in my life to the world I will always be a rich man’s spoiled daughter who was born with a silver spoon in her mouth and gets whatever she wants” you ranted taking a swig of your drink.

“Oh c’mon it’s not your fault that you belong to a wealthy family. People will always envy you so it’s useless” Tom placed a hand on your shoulder reassuringly “I mean look at me the tabloids write a lot of things about me on a daily basis but I never gave a fuck about that” 

“You never give a fuck about anything” you deadpanned.

“That’s not true!” he gasps dramatically, pretending to be offended “I do sometimes. I am a human with feelings too”

“Really? When?” you raise your eyebrows looking amused.

“Well when I don’t get my morning tea on time or when I lose in golf to my brothers” you break into a smile shaking your head sideways as he tries to list it out “or when some moron is unable to appreciate this beautiful woman in front of me” he said softly and you perked up at his words.

“You think I’m beautiful?” you reasserted slightly taken aback.

“Yes I do” he affirmed, looking directly into your eyes.

“Oh shut up” you laughed it off.

“You think I’m bluffing?” he puts down his glass on the glass coffee table and scoots closer to you.

“I think that’s the alcohol talking you should go back to your room and take some rest” you rolled over giggling. 

“Well you might have not noticed but I always admired you a little too much” your laughter died down when he reached out a hand to tuck a strand of your hair behind your ear, resting his palm on your cheek. Perhaps it was the huskiness of his voice or the fact that he knew what he was doing as you leaned into his touch, his thumb stroking your cheek gently “though you can be a handful sometimes” he chuckled lightly, his other hand snaking around your waist, pulling you closer “but I’ve known the girl under this tough shell for a long time and she's beautiful and perfect” he gazed at you intently.

Suddenly you were very aware of how close he was to you, the heat radiating from his body made butterflies erupt in your stomach. The smell of his musky cologne invading your senses as you peeled your eyes off him, looking down at the floor in an attempt to avoid his intense gaze “I see you Y/N Y/L/N” he tilted your chin up holding it between his thumb and index fingers. You held your breath, eyes fleeting between his dark brown eyes and thin lips. 

His gaze lowered down to your plump lips, leaning in as his warm breath fanned against your face. His lips brushed against yours gingerly before gently pressing them to yours. Surprisingly you find yourself kissing him back. His lips felt so gentle, so warm, your hands slid up his chest and gripped on the collars of his shirt, pulling him closer. He traces your lips with his tongue, prodding your mouth open. He deepens the kiss, drawing out sweet delicate moans from you as you tasted the remnants of the bourbon that you were having a few minutes ago as. Your breathing was erratic as you slowly pulled away after sometime.

“I've been wanting to do this for a long time” he licks his lips eyeing you up and down with lust blown eyes. Your head was reeling as you subconsciously chewed on your bottom lip, rendered speechless at the fact that you just kissed the person you disliked the most and you liked it. 

“Stop doing that” he growled with clenched jaws. 

“What?” you blinked at him in confusion.

“This” he brushes the pad of his thumb across your red tinted lips. He may or may not have an unhealthy obsession with them especially when they are so soft and tempting “every time you bite that lip it just drives me mental” slipping his thumb between your lips for a split second before pulling it back out and resting it back on your plump lip, testing the waters. 

The alcohol was kicking in making you feel warm and fuzzy as you looked at him with droopy eyes which only made him chuckle but when he pushed his thumb into your mouth and you knew you'd fall victim to him.

“Good girl” he purred as you moaned at the praise, feeling slick pooling between your legs and continuing to suck his thumb swirling your tongue around it “you like to be called a good girl huh but are you?” he smirked and all of a sudden you bit his thumb.

“Ah you minx!” he groans, pulling out his thumb.  

“You think you can handle this Holland?” you raise a cocky brow, a mischievous smile dancing at the corner of your lips. Tom mirrors your smile, wrapping a hand at the back of your neck, pulling you closer.

“Such a brat. Maybe I need to fuck this bratty mouth first” he said condescendingly. You were too far gone to stick to your resolve. Moreover you read somewhere people can be lovers and enemies at the same and he was like a drug which you got addicted to with one taste and you needed more. So you did what you were best at, which is riling him up.

“Then maybe you should get on it before I change my mind” you said lowly, hand trailing up his thigh to palm his growing bulge as you feel him tense up under your touch.

“Get down on your knees princess. I won’t say it again” dominance laced in his voice as he stood up from the couch undoing his trousers and kicking them off to the side. He watched you slide down the couch as your knees hit the soft rug on the floor. Your eyes fixated on the hard outline of his cock visible through his boxers. He chuckled, grabbing your chin and tilting your head up to look at him.

“See what you do to me? Now be a good slut and fix your mess” as if all rational thinking left your brain, your body moving in its own accord. Your fingers hooked on to the band of his boxers and pulled them down as his cock springs free slapping against his abdomen. You licked your lips, mouth watering at the sight of his impressive length tip red and swollen leaking with precum, a prominent vein running underside of it.

“Open up those pretty lips for me darling” he crooned with a dirty smirk on his face while he stroked himself lazily putting on a little show for you. You part your lips as he places his length on the swell of your mouth. Tom leaned over, collecting a ball of spit and letting it drip over his head and into your mouth. 

“Make it nice and wet for me so that I can fuck that tight cunt later” as if your mind went numb as you obeyed him swirling your tongue over the tip of his cock moaning at the salty taste of his precum mixed with his saliva. Tom tilted his head back at the feeling of your soft and wet lips around his head. He was hot and heavy on your tongue, your mouth stretching around his girth as you bobbed up and down his length. 

“Your mouth feels like heaven baby, just like I imagined” his words spurred you on as you hollowed your cheeks and went all the way down until your nose hit his pelvis as you pushed back the urge to gag. You rubbed your thighs together to ease the growing ache between your legs as you run your tongue on the ridge of the vein and then release him with a pop. Wrapping your perfectly manicured fingers around the base you jerked him off as you sucked on his balls. A groan left his mouth watching you look up at him with doe eyes while you pulled and tugged on them coating them with saliva while your hand worked on his shaft. You couldn’t resist anymore as you slipped a hand inside your panties and stimulating your throbbing bud in slow circular motions.

“Are you touching yourself?” he arches an eyebrow cockily “knew you were a pathetic slut” he patronizes “work yourself open darling but don’t you dare cum” he warns as you slip two fingers inside pumping them slowly in and out of you as you take him in your mouth again.

His fingers threads through your hair gripping them tightly making your scalp burn as he decides to take control. Holding your head in place he began thrusting into your mouth. You gagged when he hit the back of your throat, eyes watery as your hands went on to grip on his thighs, nails digging into his skin.

“Taking me so well fuck” he pulled out for a second as you gasped for air before continuing to fuck your mouth raw, drool sliding down the corner of your mouth onto your cleavage. The room filled with his pleasured grunts and the sound of you choking on his length. 

“Holy shit I’m close” he moans as you feel him twitch and then spill his warm load in your mouth. He pulled out when he was sure that you had swallowed every drop as he took in your debauched appearance, face flushed, lips swollen, the red lipstick smudged and a mixture of drool and cum smeared on your chin was enough to make him hard again. 

“Since you did such a good job sucking my cock. What do you want, princess?” Tom cooed, rubbing your cheek with the back of his finger. Your throat was sore, jaws aching as you looked up at him with glassy eyes.

“Look at you so cock drunk can’t even think properly” he chuckled, holding you by your arm and pulling you up on your feet. You stumble as he pulls you closer wrapping an arm around your waist as he looks deep into your eyes “I asked you something, love. What do you want?”

“I-I want you to make me forget about him” you rasped out in a hoarse voice.

“With pleasure darling” his smirk grows into a grin before crashing his lips to yours with such force almost knocking the air out of your lungs. It was passionate and messy, teeth and tongues colliding as he backed you towards the bed. He gets rid of his shirt and hooks his fingers into the thin straps of your dress sliding them down your arms as the dress drops on the floor. A hum of approval came from Tom as his eyes raked in your gorgeous frame, bare to him, except for the little lace thong.

The back of your legs hit the bed as you fall on the plush mattress with Tom over you. Your lips chase each other as he bites on your lower lip before sucking on it. His mouth moves down your jaw, your throat and over your chest as he nips playfully at the swell of her breast, smirking against your skin. He kisses back up towards your ear, he’s nearly breathing as hard as you are “I'm gonna fuck you so hard, you will forget you ever even met that asshole” he growled nipping onto your earlobe. 

Your breath got caught in your throat, thighs trying to press together as he nudged them apart with his knee. He trails kisses down the valley of your breasts, fingers pinching and tugging your pebbled buds, kneading the supple flesh of your soft mounds. His lips ghosted across your stomach as he traveled down further. Gently tugging on the hem of the lacy thong between his teeth with a smirk as he slides them down your legs. Tom mouthed his way up your calves sucking light marks to the flesh of your inner thighs taking his own time appreciating your beautiful body as you squirmed with need.

“I think I’m gonna fall asleep if you carry on like that” you quipped snapping Tom out of his stupor as he smiled viciously and grabbed your hips and flipped you over on your stomach, pulling them your back arching with your ass up in the air.

“And I thought you’ll behave” without warning, a sharp spank landed on your ass making you yelp at the sting which he soothed by rubbing his hand over your burning skin “such a dirty girl made a mess already” he observes running two fingers through your sodden folds and brings them to his mouth to have a taste “you taste so sweet baby” he hummed sucking his fingers clean.

“Stop teasing and fuck me already Tom!” you whined a deep chuckle resonates from Tom as he gave another smack to your ass.

“Don’t be such a brat, good things come to those who wait” he ran the tip of his cock through your slick folds before lining himself to your entrance. You were already dripping with arousal and with one thrust he bottoms out as you gasp at the fullness. He was stretching you delightfully, making you feel each and every ridge and vein of his member. The gasps and mewls that fall from your lips are obscene, face pressing into the soft sheets as you rock backed into him slowly. 

“Bloody hell feels so fucking good wanna stay buried in this tight cunt forever” he groaned with pleasure. His broad hands gripped your hips, using his strength to slam your ass back against him. You fisted the sheets into your palms as he began rutting into you at a rough pace.

Tom pounded into your weeping cunt, fingers digging into the flesh of your hips as he drove deeper inside you. Your mouth fell open in a silent moan as your eyes rolled back in ecstasy, his tip brushing against your g spot with every obliterating thrust. Meanwhile his fingers found your sensitive bud as he rubbed it vigorously, sending jolts of pleasure through your body, making your mind all hazy. The words that came out of your mouth were a garbled mess. 

“Fuck, can’t even speak properly. Did I fuck you stupid baby?” Tom grunted, his smirk growing wider as tears welled up in your eyes from how good you felt “where are those snarky little comments huh? You like it when I fuck you dumb, c’mon, tell me how much you love it” he slapped on your swollen nub. 

“Yes I love it! love when you fuck me so... hard that I can’t think, don’t stop, please,” you cried out in desperation. Tom watched his cock disappear into your tight pussy soaked in your arousal.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought, such a pretty slut and all for me,” Tom taunted “I'm going to ruin this pussy for any other man, you like that idea?”

“Yes! Tom, please, fuck me, make me yours” you moaned, your walls constricting around his thick cock pressure building inside your stomach.  

“You're gonna be a good girl for me, gonna let me fill you up?” he slid his hand down your back and grabbed the back of your neck, pulling you up flush against his chest as he snapped his hips harshly. 

“Oh-” you gasped loudly, throwing your head back as you choked out a moan “yes, fuck, fill me up”

“That’s it baby, can feel you squeezing me, go ahead, milk me dry, show me how much you need it” he coaxed thrusting inside you as you moaned, eyes screwed shut in pleasure. His deft fingers worked on your clit tethering you to the edge. With a few more thrusts your body convulsed as your high washed over you. Your walls pulsated around him as Tom fucked you through your orgasm chasing his own high. 

“Fuck!” he rasped as you felt him throb, painting your walls with his warm release. He dropped both of you on the bed panting as he pulled out making sure not to crush you and rolled over to your side. You weakly turned on your back on the bed breathless and panting, desperately trying to calm your breathing. Tom wrapped his arm around your body and pulled you closer to him.

“So did that help?” he asked, brushing your messy hair out of your face with a lazy smile.

“Yeah it was good but don’t need to flatter yourself so much” you sassed.

“Really? The mean girl attitude after you were literally screaming my name a few seconds ago” he gave you an unamused look.

“Well deal with it or leave” you shrugged nonchalantly.   

“Nah I don’t think I can leave you anymore” he said nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck “by the way you wanna go sailing tomorrow in our private yacht?”

“Only if you fuck me on the deck later” you said with a mischief in your eyes, the corner of your lips tugged into a sly smirk.

“Gladly” he grinned cheekily and captured your lips into a soft kiss.

..................................................................................

Reblogs are appreciated ❤️

[f1nalboys]

Okay, okay! So I love your poly!Ghostface dark/angst, but I wanna see you do some poly!Ghostface dark/fluff too(if that's a thing?)! Still unhealthy/toxic relationship, but one where their feelings are at least actually true and genuine. Trio vs the World shit. Best Friends to Lovers blah blah blah cause you know Im a slut for that lmao. NSFW too if you're willing 👀

AHH so glad I finally got to this request I'm sorry it took me so long :(( HOWEVER i had fun writing it!! i really hope you enjoy (ps, no smut unfortunately i tried to add it and it was coming out wrong ahhh) flashbacks are italicized! 

WORD COUNT: 2352

WARNINGS: toxic relationship, kinda cute moments between the three of you, cursing, little bit of stalking, threats of violence, no nsfw because i was a little lazy sorry :,(

Had someone told you five years ago that you'd be dating not only Billy Loomis but Stu Macher as well, you’d have laughed straight in their face. And yet here you were, curled up on the couch between the two, your legs thrown over Billys and your head resting on Stu’s shoulder, watching a horror movie. You smile softly as you feel Billy’s hand grip your thigh slightly. He never seemed to realize he was doing it which made it even cuter.

“Remember the day I met you guys?” You question, head moving off of Stu’s shoulder when he turns to look at you. He gives you a goofy grin and nods, kissing the tip of your nose. “Sure, baby. Why?”

“Did you think we would have gotten together? Like, back then?”

“Definitely,” Billy says, poking his finger into your side. You raise an eyebrow at him, catching his hand and holding it in your lap. He sighs, grinning slightly. “Alright, maybe not the day we met, but I knew pretty soon. Why? What’s got you thinking about it?”

You shrug, not really sure yourself. Something about the situation you three were in at the moment made your mind drift to those few awful god damn weeks. “You two really sucked then, you know? Honestly, I’m surprised I didn't kill you both.”

Stu gasps, throwing himself back with a hand on his heart. You roll your eyes; ever the dramatic. “You would have hurt us? I can’t believe this… the betrayal!” You elbow him and he sits back up, laughing, and wraps his arms around you, planting a few sloppy kisses onto your neck.

“We weren’t even that bad, babe.” Billy says, eyes widening as you glare at him.

“Not that bad? Do I need to remind you of the first thing you said to me when we met?” You shoot back, sitting up closer to Stu. You had already forgiven the two for how they acted then, but that doesn’t mean you can’t give them a hard time.

The first day you met Billy and Stu, it had started out good. You still didn’t have many friends but that was perfectly okay with you. You were sat in the grass outside one of the buildings where your next class was held, waiting. Thirty more minutes and you got to go to math; yay. You were leaned up against a tree, headphones in, trying to relax, when two men stood in front of you. They were pretty cute. One was tall, wearing a thin sweater and a goofy grin, while the other was shorter with dark hair and a smirk. The tall one's mouth moves and you pull your earbuds out, about to apologize for not hearing him, when the shorter one speaks.

“Pretty stupid to wait for someone to talk to you before taking your headphones out.” His smile was still there but it was clearly masking his annoyance. Your eyebrows raise in surprise at the gall of this dude. You don’t even know him and he thinks he’s owed a conversation?

“Excuse me?”

“What? You’re deaf and a bitch?” The taller one slaps the back of his head immediately and he grumbles, rubbing the soreness. You scoff, shaking your head, fuming. Was it just this dude or were most people here dicks? You didn't want to find out.

You stand, grabbing your bag and pushing past the two, heading towards the building. Your eyes instantly roll into the back of your head when you hear the sound of footsteps behind you. “Hey, I’m sorry about him, really. That’s how he jokes and sometimes it comes across as mean. I’m Stu and he’s Billy.”

Stopping in your tracks you turn to face Stu, the taller one, and take a second to think of a response. Glancing over at Billy, who had finally caught up with you, you can see what resembles regret on his features. “Well, he didn’t come across as mean, he came across as an asshole.”

Stu laughs, nodding. Billy shrugs, giving you that same weak smile he had shown when he approached. You shrug your backpack up higher onto your shoulder, the weight of it starting to get to you, when Billy grabs ahold of it and yanks it off of you. “What the hell? Give me my shit back!”

“Least I can do is to carry it for you. You going to class?” He asks. It’s like he wasn’t taking no for an answer. You give a large sigh and nod, silently thankful for the weight off your shoulders. “Which building?”

“Sycamore.” He nods and begins to walk there, you and Stu trailing behind him. “Is he always so...?” You ask Stu under your breath, trailing off, unsure of a word that could describe the man. He grins and nods. “Annoying? Mean? Stubborn? Yes, yes, and yes.”

Billy groans at the memory, annoyed. He hated when you brought that up. “I told you I was just having an off day! Come on, you’re acting like Stu didn’t offend you too! Do you not remember when you got food with us, like, that night?” Stu punches Billy in the shoulder hard, pissed that he had brought it up.

“Oh yeah! I kinda forgot about how much of a dickhead Stu was,” You say, leaning back against the couch. It really was a shock your relationship with the boys got to where it was now.

Billy and Stu followed you around all day. It seemed they were trying to apologize for Billy’s attitude earlier but, if you were being honest, it was kind of unnerving. After your math class, where they had walked you inside the building and only left when the professor came in, you saw them waiting outside under the tree you had been at.

“Can you guys stop following me?” You had told them the third time you noticed them, this time at the small diner you stopped by after your last class. Stu’s face turned red and he looked behind him as if there was someone else you could be talking about. “Yeah, you two.”

“We wanted to apologize for earlier,” Billy said, motioning for you to join them at their table. You had to choose which one to sit next too and, after your not-so-pleasant meeting with Billy that morning, you sat next to Stu. He sticks his tongue out at Billy who rolls his eyes.

“You already apologized. It’s getting kind of creepy.” You say, placing your elbow on the table. Before the boys could respond, the waitress walks over, placing down their drinks. She flashes you a smile and takes your order, walking off with a sway in her hips, much to the boy's enjoyment.

Stu throws an arm over your shoulder and you shrug him off, ignoring the pained look he gives you. “We just wanted to make sure you really knew we were sorry! Billy here never acts right around a hottie,”

“Stu you fucking idiot.” Billy spits, throwing something at him. Stu laughs, holding his hands up in mock surrender. Billy looks at you and gives you what looks like a real, genuine smile. “Sorry about him; he can’t seem to think with his upstairs brain.”

“Don’t need to when my downstairs one leads me to be sitting next to a smoke show,” Stu says, holding his hand out to you for a high five. Your face flushes and you ignore him, scooting away from him slightly. He was cute, sure, but way too forward. “What? Can’t compliment people anymore?”

“Not when your compliments are preceded by stalking.” You mutter, a part of you hoping he doesn’t hear it. Unfortunately, he does. You see his face change in your peripheral vision and your eyes flick over to Billy. He grins at you, sitting back in the booth, and taking a sip from his drink. He was enjoying this.

“Stalking? You’re fucking with me, right?” His rant is cut short by the return of the waitress who hands you your drink and places the food the boys had ordered onto the table, completely oblivious to your discomfort. She leaves and Stu grabs a fry from his plate, chewing loudly. “We’re not fucking stalking you - trust me, there are better ways to spend our time.”

Billy throws his balled up straw wrapper at Stu, catching his attention, and you let out a soft sigh of relief when Stu’s demeanor changes. He was back to smiling and laughing as if he hadn’t just been attempting to tear you to shreds. “Sorry about that… I’m pretty tired, that’s all.” Stu says, playing with his fingers.

“S’okay, I guess.”

“Why don’t you let us take you on a date? You know, as an apology?” Billy chimes in and Stu grins, nodding. A large part of yourself was screaming no. There was something off about these boys, something dark just under the surface, but you were intrigued. And so you smile.

“Yeah, I guess you two can do that.”

Billy had his arms wrapped around you, laughing at the excuses Stu was stammering out. He was obviously getting frustrated at the memory and you opened your arms to let him join in on the cuddling.

“You know, I really am glad we stuck together. I don’t know what I’d do if it were for our nightly cuddle sessions,” You say, your words muffled by Stu’s sweater. He pulls back and gives you a kiss, Billy swooping in to take one from him as well.

“Yeah, I don’t know what I’d do without our fuck sessions,” Stu hums and you groan, punching him in the shoulder. What a way to ruin the moment. “Wait, let’s not act like you were a saint in all of this! I remember you being pretty awful at one point.”

“What?! No way!”

Billy nods, tickling your sides for a second. “Sure were, babe.”

Two months into the relationship was your breaking point. You really did like, if not love, the boys and yet you were still an outsider. Walking into the shared apartment just for their whispered conversations to stop. Late nights spent in the living room with hushed voices while you tried to sleep. You felt as though you only knew a portion of the two people you had come to like; no, love.

You admit it was petty. It wasn’t the right thing to do in any circumstance, but you did it because you knew it would get a reaction. You had packed a bag and sat in the living room. You wanted them to see you leave. Wanted them to see how much their secrecy had taken. You had been together only a short while and yet you felt so at home with them that the idea of actually leaving, of breaking it off, nearly tore you apart.

The door opens and in enters Billy and Stu, wrapped up in their own conversation. Stu waves at you, carrying on before realizing what he had just seen. “Babe? What are you doing?”

“I’m leaving.” Your voice was confident, not a waver in sight, and you knew it was because you weren’t planning on leaving. Some would call it manipulation, sure, but you were backed into a corner. Stu’s mouth drops open and Billy stares at you, his eyes narrowed.

“What? What do you mean you’re leaving? What’s wrong? Did something happen?” Stu rushes to sit down next to you on the couch, not wanting to accept the idea that you were leaving them on your own volition. His arms wrap around yours and you shove him off. “Babe?”

You shake your head, standing from your spot on the couch, grabbing ahold of the bag. Billy was still standing near the door, his arms crossed, watching you. “Don’t call me that. The two of you… It’s like I’m not even in this relationship. I’m an outsider with the two people I love and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it.”

“Where the hell is this coming from?” Billy questions, grabbing ahold of your arm when you try to walk past him. His voice is thick and you could see the vein in his forehead throbbing. He was angry and you hate to admit it but that’s exactly what you were hoping for.

For the next two hours the three of you talk about your relationship and the future of it. Stu cried, you cried, Billy sniffled a few times, and then you came to an agreement. No more secrets. They told you things that they hadn't told anyone before that they hid behind a vague threat of ‘once you hear this you’re stuck with us,’ and you told them things you had planned on taking to your grave. To say you weren’t shocked at what they told you would be a lie.

Murder wasn’t what you thought they were capable of and especially not murder so gruesome. But, oddly, you felt better about being with them. They trusted you, loved you, enough to let you know their biggest and darkest secret. And you loved it.

Knowing they wouldn’t hesitate to kill for you was a major turn on, which they soon found out.

“Wow, I really was kind of horrible, wasn’t I.” You mutter as Billy recounts the memory with a few interruptions by Stu. You didn’t remember it that way but the more they talked the more you could tell they were being honest. “Well, good thing we stuck together, hm? Would have been pretty bad if we hadn’t.”

“Yeah because we would have killed you,” Billy whispers into your ear and you shiver. He’s telling the truth and that’s what makes the relationship the way it is; they choose to be with you, to keep you around, to love you. “Yeah, we would have given you a call a while ago,” Stu says, his finger making a slicing motion across your neck.

You roll your eyes not because you don’t believe them but because you do. And you wouldn’t have it any other way.

[kasha-formerlydrabbletastic]

Blowing Off Steam

Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Things have always been tense between the reader and Bucky, but what happens when things come to a head?

Word count: 4,269

Warnings: Mature readers only 18+ - minors do not interact! Vaginal sex, oral sex (m receiving), fingering, Dom/sub themes (who doesn’t love a bratty sub), unprotected sex (always use contraception), swearing.

.

.

.

.

“You’re lucky I saved your ass!”

“Well, no one fucking asked you to, did they?”

“No, so it looks like I’m not such a fucking prick after all, eh, Y/N?”

“Nope. You’re still a fucking prick, Bucky. Nothing in this world will ever make me change my mind about it either.”

“Need I remind you that -”

“Oh, shut up, the both of you!”

Steve’s voice cuts through the argument, effectively rendering the pair of you mute. It's surprising how long it's taken someone to crack, given the fact that your argument with Bucky started about an hour ago when the team entered the quinjet.

"Every goddamn time you're around each other you gotta argue about something," he continues, holding the attention of most of the team. "I don't want to hear another fucking word out of either of you for the rest of the ride home."

"Good job, Dad," Tony quips.

"But Bucky -"

"But Y/N-"

The pair of you speak at the same time, but Steve cuts you off again.

"Not. Another. Word." He punctuates each word with a jab of his authoritative pointer finger into the air between you. "This is the end of it. Silence. Now."

It takes a moment as you wrestle with the impulse to protest, but you ultimately sit back into your seat, folding your arms tightly over your chest. Bucky seems to do the same, his expression grumpy as ever as the two of you lock eyes.

"Fuck you," you mouth, extending a middle finger toward him.

"Fuck you," he counters silently.

You roll your eyes, settling back once more.

There has never been any real explanation, but from the moment you met him, you and Bucky have locked horns. He's stubborn, pigheaded, so full of himself and the way he operates that you can't help but be annoyed by him.

Then again, a good number of the team are cursed with the same qualities but you seem to get along quite well with them.

What is it about Bucky?

***

Per Steve's demand, there wasn't a single word passed between you and Bucky the rest of the way home. You stripped yourself of your gear after Steve's Dad Moment before sitting back and allowing yourself to take a nap the rest of the way home in your t-shirt and tactical pants. It wasn't until you got into the compound and to your desk in the team's shared office that any of your frustration boiled over again.

"Fucking asshole," you muttered between gritted teeth as you glanced over at Bucky's empty desk; his paperwork sits on the surface, needing to be done, but the man himself is nowhere to be found. Granted you are the only one at your desk doing paperwork.

Or so you thought.

"Thinking about me again?" you hear him say behind you.

You swivel in your chair to face him, his face smug as ever as steam rises up from the two mugs of coffee he holds.

"Well, not everything is about you, Bucky," you say. "Believe it or not."

"I would believe it if it were true," he grins; you make to reply, but he carries on. "I was gonna give this to you as a peace offering," he says, gesturing with one of the mugs of coffee, "but I don’t think you’ve learned Steve's lesson yet. So I'm just gonna keep it for myself. I am so tired, anyway."

He strides toward his desk, swaggering with each step, and it's almost as if you can't help the knee-jerk reaction of sticking your foot out into his path. His feet get caught up with yours, tripping him up enough that he loses grip of the mugs and stumbles forward; the mugs smash on the floor, but Bucky's reflexes refuse to let him fall too. He straightens up quickly, turning on his heel and staring daggers at you.

"Enjoy your coffee, Sergeant Barnes," you chuckle.

"What the fuck?" Bucky shouts.

"Oh, I'm sorry," you begin, wanting to taunt him but you get no further.

"Y/N, Bucky."

The two of you turn to Steve, who has finally returned to the office dressed in a basic t-shirt and jeans. He is more stern than you've ever seen him, standing with his arms crossed and his expression disappointed. He is very much the captain with his stance, staring the two of you down as if you were naughty children.

"Clean this up and then meet me in the conference room," he directs, his voice low and tone ominous.

You watch as he leaves, then switch your gaze to Bucky; you don't know what's about to happen, but something tells you Steve has had enough of the bullshit. It's possible you're about to lose your spot on the team, you think, and panic fills your chest as you stand from your chair, ignoring Bucky to the fullest as you reach for a trash can.

"Fuck," you murmur, picking up shards of mug and tossing them into the bin.

Bucky appears shortly after with several towels in hand, wiping up the coffee and smaller pieces before just chucking them into the bin, too.

With the mess cleaned up, the two of you silently march to the conference room where Steve sits at the head of the table.

"Oh, good," he says sarcastically, "you two managed to work together and accomplish something in a timely fashion, how about that?"

You take your seat next to him, wanting to ask what this is about but knowing full well what he's about to say. Bucky sits opposite you, quiet and brooding, and you feel a lurch of annoyance in your belly. You roll your eyes again, looking to Steve, trying to convey in your eyes the question, "How long do I have to stay here with him?" Steve doesn't look at you, though, his eyes fixed on his folded hands in front of him before he speaks.

"I don't know what it is about the two of you being around each other, but whatever it is, you need to cut it out," he says. "It's detrimental to the team working as a whole, not to mention it is fucking irritating."

Something in you rises to be defensive, but another, more rational side begins to kick in, keeping your mouth shut for a moment.

"The number of complaints I get from everyone else is almost ridiculous, guys. And it's only a matter of time before the two of you are bickering like an old married couple and someone gets hurt because you're not giving your full attention."

You had been so caught up with how much you and Bucky annoyed each other that not much else in your mind spared the time to think about how it might affect the team and your missions. Steve is right - and you know it - that one of these days, you and Bucky will be going at it and one of you will slip. You won't necessarily be the one who suffers, but it's likely that if the two of you continue on with your childish back-and-forth, you might lose track of a target, lose a mission, or worse, lose a teammate. With that thought, shame floods you, and you sit back in your chair, crossing your arms over your chest and gritting your teeth to keep from saying anything stupid.

"With that being said," Steve continues, "you two need to figure this out as soon as possible. What really gets me is that you're both so valuable to the team, but you let your bullshit get in the way of your effectiveness." Steve glances at the door, his expression shifting ever so slightly. "Actually... I'm gonna leave you two here for a minute, something just came up."

The slightest surge of panic rears in your chest as Steve gets up from his chair. You watch him incredulously as he leaves you here with Bucky, closing the door behind him. If you're not mistaken, though, you hear the door lock and your panic peaks just a little more.

You rise from your seat, following Steve's footsteps to the door and trying the handle; it doesn't budge.

"Fuck," you mumble. "FRIDAY, unlock the door, please."

"I'm sorry, Y/N," FRIDAY replies, "the orders are to keep the door locked for the next thirty minutes, barring an emergency."

"Are you fucking kidding me?!" you grumble, rubbing the palms of your hands into your eyes.

You almost don't register it, but you hear Bucky chuckle, a quiet laugh that brings your attention to him.

"What's funny about this?" you demand, just as quietly.

He sits back in his chair, strangely relaxed given that he's locked into the room with you. There's genuine amusement in his expression as he lounges, setting his hands on top of his head.

"Typical Steve," he says, looking at you with a sparkle in his eye. "Thinking he can save everyone."

You don't say anything, but shrug helplessly in agreement - probably agreeing with Bucky for the first time since you've known him.

"I guess he doesn't realize that he can't save everyone," you mutter, sitting back down.

Bucky shrugs this time. "That thought has never even occurred to him, I can promise you that."

Sparing a glance at Bucky, you fall into silence, unsure of what to say. He doesn't offer anything either, his smile slowly fading as the seconds tick on. The air thickens around you, the awkwardness growing more ungainly the longer neither of you speak. Though, it's possible that the whole thirty minutes have elapsed or that it's only been a few seconds before you figure out something to say.

"I'm sorry I tripped you earlier," you say quietly.

Bucky had been staring at the table, but he brings his gaze to you, studying you with a curiosity he has never once shown you before. He seems to take his time before he replies.

"I accept your apology," he says, leaning forward and putting his elbows on the table. "I'm sorry for... everything."

The moment hangs there, seconds ticking by as the two of you study each other; now that you look at him, finally confronting the reasons why you tease and antagonize him, you figure that maybe he's not always so grumpy-looking. There's a sparkle in his blue eyes, something witty and sweet that you've never allowed yourself to notice before. He's got a strong jaw, pretty pink lips, and a smile to die for. At once, it clicks why you've been so eager to step on every one of his nerves.

Something shifts in his expression, and he pushes his chair back, standing up. He doesn't take his eyes from you as he circles the table, but you push your chair back, too, taking after his lead. By the time he reaches you, you stand, facing him as the space between you shrinks.

Then, as if magnets pull you together, the pair of you collide; Bucky's flesh fingers curve around the back of your head, cradling it as he lowers his lips to yours. Despite how out of the blue this is, you melt into him, your hands finding his waist and pulling him close. His kiss is warm, his body taut under your touch as his other arm curls around your body, pressing your chests together. Your skin tingles in every place it meets his as the kiss deepens, each of you parting your lips for the other as your tongues explore new territory.

Then, as if your bodies can't get close enough, Bucky leans forward, his hands gripping your thighs as he lifts you onto the table. He doesn't once break the kiss, but as soon as you're settled, his hips knock your knees apart. Instinctively, your legs wrap around him, urging him closer to you. Your arms curl around his neck, too, making sure he doesn't get too far away from you. He responds, taking you in his arms in kind.

You don't know how long it lasts, and you don't care, especially when his lips stray, tracing your jaw and finding your pulse.

"Oh, Bucky," you sigh, your skin on fire from his touch.

"James," he says quietly against your neck.

For a moment, you pull back, staring into his eyes and smiling.

"James," you acknowledge, and he smiles too.

In the next second, though, a wickedness settles into his expression, a sly grin taking the sweet smile's place as his hands meet the button and fly of your pants. He pulls them open, his hand diving immediately into your panties.

"Fuck!" you gasp as his fingers slip between you lips, brushing over your clit to briefly dive into your heat.

"God damn," he groans. "Doll, you feel so good. You're so fucking wet for me."

You scoff, looking him dead in the eye. "Please. I'm sure if it were anyone else I'd still be just as wet."

"You sure about that?" he says, his eyes glittering with promise as he presses his fingertips to your clit, circling the singing nerves as if he's known how to all his life.

"Mmm," you hum, your fingers bunching into the front of his shirt as you pull him forward. "We'll just have to see, I guess."

"You're damn right," he says before crushing his lips to yours. He slips his fingers into you, his thumb working circles against your clit, and you moan into his mouth. "That's right, doll. I make you feel so fucking good, don't I?"

A sly smile of your own tugs at your lips as you pull your head back.

"Meh, I've had better."

He pauses for a moment, staring you in the face before he chuckles. He takes his hand from you as he uses his free hand to push you by the shoulder, urging you onto your back before he tugs your pants off, taking your panties with them.

"Spread those legs for me, Y/N," he orders softly, and you comply.

At once, his hand finds your heat again, his metal fingers diving in and curling against your g-spot as his flesh fingers work your clit. In no time at all, you writhe on the tabletop, the entirety of your energy focused on not coming, not giving in to his ego. It's no use, however, as he hits the right spots at the right time.

"Fuck!" you grunt, your toes curling as ecstasy explodes from your core; the orgasm rips through your body, rushing through your blood with a ferocity you've never known before as your heart pounds from your chest.

"I fucking told you, doll," Bucky teases, his hands slowing down before he removes them. "Look at you. All wrecked for me."

"You wish," you say, rising up onto your elbows to see Bucky's grin falter just slightly. "Why don't you really wreck me, James? Why don't you fuck the attitude out of me?"

Heat floods your body at the idea, but just then, Bucky smiles wider as the mischievous glint in his eyes seems to take him over completely.

"You want me," he begins slowly, his hands dropping to his belt, "to fuck," he undoes his belt, popping open the button on his pants, "the attitude," he pulls on the zipper, slipping his underwear down enough that his cock tumbles from its confines and into his hand, "out of you?"

Your eyes fix on his engorged, weighty flesh as he strokes himself, imagining what it would feel like to be split in half by it.

"You want it," he says; it's not a question at all, but an entirely accurate statement.

You meet his eyes once more to see the cockiest expression on his face.

"And what if I said yes?" you reply.

Bucky leans in, his lips close to yours.

"Beg me for it," he murmurs against your mouth.

"No," you say, pushing him away gently as you slip off the table; your hand just barely closes around his girth and strokes. "I won't beg for it." You get to your knees, coming face to face with his gorgeous cock. "But you will."

"You think so, Y/N?" he laughs, but moans the minute you take him into your mouth. "Fuuuuuuck."

You swirl your tongue around the head before taking him as far back into your mouth as you can. Bucky nearly whimpers the moment the tip enters the back of your throat and you swallow around him. It takes everything you've got to keep from laughing at him as he leans over, bracing himself on the table.

Bobbing your head along his shaft, you listen to him; he curses, making pleas to God as you work him up. He tries to hold it together, but the way you suck and lick and tease has him squirming. Before you know it, though, he yanks himself from you with a growl, picking you up off the floor and turning you around; his erection presses against your ass as he twines his fingers in your hair, pressing your hips against the table.

"Baby doll," he croons in your ear, his chest hard against your back. "You think you're so cute, eh? Just you wait, Y/N. Just you wait."

He presses you down onto the tabletop, his hand still gripping your hair. Almost instantly, you feel the tip of his cock brush your lips, sliding along your heat to press against your clit for just a moment. He does this a few times before he finally presses into your center.

The moment hangs in the air as your anticipation grows, your yearning to be filled finally being granted only Bucky doesn't continue. He stays, just the tip of his cock planted in you for a moment before it slips out again, and you let out the smallest whine.

"Oh, doll," he says, his tone mocking. "Did you want that? Did you want my big fat cock inside you?"

You collect your wits, unwilling to let him win.

"I bet you want to get inside me, James," you say, your hand finding his in your hair. "God, I bet you want to fuck me. I bet you've always wanted to fuck me, from the minute you met me."

He slips his cock along your heat again, and you bite your lip to keep from moaning as it meets your clit; he bounces his cock against it a few times before teasing it with gentle circles.

"I bet you've thought of nothing but this pussy since I joined the team," you continue, baiting him into giving in. "I bet that's why you're such a prick, because you could never have it. You wanna know what I think, James?"

"What do you think, Y/N?" he replies, replacing his tip back into your center as he leans over you, his face growing closer to yours.

"I think," you say, adjusting so you can see his face better, "that there have been so many times that you've imagined having me. Times when you found yourself imagining me in this exact position, with your dick buried inside me, and couldn't help but rub one out. You ever fucked yourself to the thought of me, James?"

Bucky chuckles. "Doll, you have no idea. But if we're placing bets, I bet you've done the same. You think I don't know? On all those missions we've been on, you think I didn't hear you fuck yourself in the next room? That I don't know that's how you blow off steam?"

You smile as he presses just a little further into your heat.

"Doll," he says, standing up and bringing you with him until your back arches against his chest, his lips brushing your ear as he continues, "you think I haven't heard you call my name?"

"Looks like we're at an impasse," you chuckle.

Bucky laughs too, dragging hot, wet kisses along your neck for a second.

"Nah," he says, letting go of your hair as he slowly curls his hand around your neck, pushing your head back onto his shoulder. "Because I've got the upper hand here."

"So you think," you quip as he presses just a little further into you; your body tenses, awaiting the full feeling of his cock.

"Oh, I know, Y/N," he says, retreating just a little. “I know for damn sure. Now, what do we say?”

“I don’t know, what do we say?”

He offers a dark chuckle as he pulls all the way out. “If you’re not gonna be a good girl, I won’t fuck you.”

“I wish I could believe you, Barnes,” you reply. “But seeing as how I haven’t complied with you yet and you’re still here with your hard-on poking me in the ass cheek, I just can’t take you all that seriously.”

“That’s fair,” he says before suddenly letting go of you. 

You turn around, fairly surprised as you watch him hitch his pants back up, putting his cock away.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you say with an incredulous laugh. 

“Well, I’m sitting back down until Steve gets back,” he says, checking the time. "There's still about fifteen minutes before he gets back."

Once more collecting your wits, you smile. With an idea coalescing in your brain, you stride to his side of the table, hopping up onto the tabletop right next to him to ensure that he sees everything you're about to work with.

"Well, then," you say, spreading your legs as your fingers meet your aching clit. "I hope you don't mind, but I'm a little worked up right now and I need to, as you said, blow off steam."

Bucky's smile falters as his eyes drop from yours to between your legs, watching you work. The very fact that he's watching sends another flood of arousal to your already dripping cunt, your need for release growing stronger by the second.

"Mmm," you hum, slipping your fingers into yourself.

Bucky doesn't look away once. On the contrary, he rises from his seat, looking pained as he witnesses your pleasure. You put on a show, your moans and whimpers growing more frequent; the move has the desired effect as Bucky's hand drops to the erection in his pants, palming it through the fabric.

"Fuck," he murmurs, yanking his pants down once more. He moves forward, hand around his cock to position himself inside you, but you were waiting for this; you lean forward, pressing your hand against his chest to stop his progress toward you.

"I'm sorry," you say, "but what are you doing?"

"I'm fucking you," he says, stepping forward once more, but you hold your ground.

"Says who?"

"Says me."

He moves forward again, but you still keep him at bay.

"And what do we say, James?" you purr.

"What?" he replies.

You lean closer to him, your lips almost brushing his as you say, "Beg me for it."

"Are you serious?" he says, getting impatient.

"Damn right I am," you reply.

Bucky struggles with it for a moment, but seems to decide to fold.

"Y/N," he says, stroking his cock, a drop of precum beading on the tip. "Please."

"Please what?" you reply, relishing in the frustration showing through his features.

"Please, please, let me fuck you."

You grin, satisfied that you won, as you let your hand slide around the back of his neck from his chest, pulling his mouth against yours as he immediately buries himself inside you.

"Ah!" you moan against his lips as he fills you to the hilt.

"God fucking dammit," he groans. "You feel so fucking good, Y/N."

At once, he begins thrusting, his hands holding tight onto your hips as he moves. You lean back onto one arm, your other hand finding your clit once again, pressing circles against yourself.

"Fuck, Y/N," he says, his thrusts growing quicker.

His cock drags along your g-spot, the perfect sensation to accompany your clitoral stimulation. In next to no time, you snap, your body bombarded by your next orgasm.

"Oh, fuck," Bucky says through gritted teeth as you pulse around him.

His grip tightens on you as his hips press quicker, harder than ever, before they stutter; he pulls out, his hand grasping his cock and stroking it until he comes. Spurts of cum land on your thigh, thick and warm, as Bucky tries to get his breathing under control, his forehead landing on your shoulder for support.

He takes a moment, straightening up once he’s gotten control of himself. As he backs away, his eyes fix on yours, a soft grin pulling at his lips. He puts himself back together, zipping and buttoning his pants deliberately.

“You win,” he says, holding his hands up in surrender. 

“I know,” you laugh, watching as he moves around the table to grab your pants and underwear from where he pulled them off of you. He walks them back to you, handing them over. “Clean it.”

Once more, his mischief is written all over his face as he bends down, using his tongue to mop up his mess. The sensation tingles along your thigh to your core, and you wish you had longer than just the thirty minutes allotted to the two of you. Your fingers tangle in his hair, staying put as he stands back up.

“Good boy,” you say, pulling his face to yours for a kiss.

“Looks like I’m your bitch now,” he says with a chuckle.

“Oh, doll,” you say, taking delight in the look on his face as you use his word. “It was bound to happen.”

[robinofinashiro]

request from anon: “Hi, can I request yandere alphabet for Kyojuro Rengoku 👉👈Thank you and have a good day Queen.”

pairing: yandere! kyojuro rengoku x fem reader

request status: OPENED

A - Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?

rengoku does not give a singular fuck who sees him when it comes to giving you affection! you’re in the public? you’ll be holding his hand, kissing your cheek when he feels like it, and if it’s that bad, he’ll do a quickie in the bathroom. 

B - Blood: How messy are they willing to get when it comes to their darling?

very messy! he doesn’t care. if he sees someone getting too close to you, he’ll make sure to get rid of them as soon as possible. he can’t let anyone get close to you. he’ll go to the ends of the earth to make sure that you’re by his side and that no one comes in between the two of you. 

C - Cruelty: How would they treat their darling once abducted? Would they mock them?

honestly, he’ll mock the hell out of them when he feels like it’s necessary. if you’re purposely doing things to annoy him or going out of your way to piss him off, he’ll make sure to remind you that you’re never leaving him. other than that, he’ll treat you like you’re a princess! you deserve everything in the world and he’ll give it to you if he feels like you deserve it. 

D - Darling: Aside from abduction, would they do anything against their darling’s will?

despite from the sweet nature that he gives off, he will do ONE thing against your will and that’s to have kids. he needs to continue his family line and since Senjuro isn’t working to be a pillar anymore, he needs to make sure that someone continues that and it might have to be his kid. 

E - Exposed: How much of their heart do they bare to their darling? How vulnerable are they when it comes to their darling?

rengoku, when he feels like the time is right, will bare everything to his darling. come on now, you’re gonna be his wife, right? it’s only right that you know what his baggage is! he doesn’t care if you judge him or not, when it comes to this sort of thing, he kinda wears his heart on his sleeve. 

F - Fight: How would they feel if their darling fought back?

he would be kinda pissed. you’re supposed to be this perfect wife/darling and by you acting out, he doesn’t sit well with that. why can’t you be more like Sanemi’s wife? a perfect little darling that just sits there and waits for her husband like she should. punishment is a whole other ballgame that i will touch on later. 

G - Game: Is this a game to them? How much would they enjoy watching their darling try to escape?

absolutely tf not. how can this be a game to someone? rengoku is the kinda person where if he meets someone that he falls madly in love with, he’ll stick by you until one of you dies first and even then, he might commit sewerslide if you happen to be the one to go first. however, he might get a kick watching you trying to leave him bc it’s nearly impossible to leave where you’re trapped.

H - Hell: What would be their darling’s worst experience with them?

rengoku’s affection, jesus christ. that shit could get mad annoying. if he’s had a particularly bad day, just brace yourself and let it happen bc he will be one affectionate mf. it could get to the point where he’ll be affection even into the next day if it’s that bad. 

I - Ideals: What kind of future do they have in mind for/with their darling?

literally a picture perfect life. (very much the american dream in a sense). he wants kids, hell, if you want pets of some sort, he’s down to adopt a few dogs or whatever you or your kids want. he just wants everyone to see that his family is perfect and how far he’s willing to go for them. 

J - Jealousy: Do they get jealous? Do they lash out or find a way to cope?

oh absolutely. rengoku is the type of mf that if he sees someone flirting with his darling, he’s ending that shit QUICK. he cannot and will not let it happen. clearly it isn’t your fault so he’ll console you that you had no way of knowing what that scums intentions were and after he’s done with that, he’ll try to find the person to give them a lesson. 

K - Kisses: How do they act around or with their darling

he will be very clingy like i said. he wants everyone to know that his relationship is perfect but in private, double that. he’ll make sure that you know you’re loved and that he wouldn’t trade his life with you for anything in the world. 

L - Love letters: How would they go about courting or approaching their darling?

he would try the attempt to court you at first. rengoku is someone who is very charming so 8/10 times, it’ll work. however, if you’re being stubborn, that’s when the other side of rengoku comes out. but if you do decide to date him willingly, he’s the sweetest mf ever. he’ll bring you courting gives to every date, etc, etc. 

M - Mask: Are their true colors drastically different from the way they act around everyone else?

honestly, rengoku is seen as the black sheep in the sense that he’s always readily happy and enthusiastic. not much changes when he’s in the public. unless you happen to piss him off in public, seemingly the only time when he would change his personality. 

N - Naughty: How would they punish their darling?

he doesn’t try to do it often, he hates seeing you hurt. but if you happen to actually piss him off to the point where you need to be punished, anything ranging from being alone for days to sexual punishment (that i wont be going into detail for).

O - Oppression: How many rights would they take away from their darling?

not many tbh. you have free range into his entire estate. however if he has maids working around, they know it’s best for them not to talk to you. he wont let you leave his estate to speak to anyone. you have the right to anything as long as you’re not trying to leave or get into contact with someone. he’ll even let you visit your friends or family as long as he’s there. 

P - Patience: How patient are they with their darling?

eh, he’s about 50/50. he can be very patient with you or be ticked off almost immediately. more than likely tho, he’ll deal with your shit most days. the days that he doesn’t, it’s probably bc he had already probably had a bad day and you’re just making shit worse. 

Q - Quit: If their darling dies, leaves, or successfully escapes, would they ever be able to move on?

if you die, rengoku won’t move on and like i said before, he’d probably commit sleep forever. if you escape, he’ll spend the rest of his days looking for you. regardless if you escape or die, he won’t move on. you’re his and you will remain that way important person in his life. 

R - Regret: Would they ever feel guilty about abducting their darling? Would they ever let their darling go?

to a certain point, he’d feel guilty. i think the only thing eating him up is the unethical part in all of this. the fact that he’s basically abducted you and refuses to let you go. but will he ever let you go? absolutely not. you’d have to kill him before that happens. 

S - Stigma: What brought about this side of them (childhood, curiosity, etc)?

i see the only way this happening is bc of his life. his childhood wasn’t the greatest but it wasn’t exactly the worst so idk, i think more than anything it was out of curiosity and probably seeing others do it that make him snap. 

T - Tears: How do they feel about seeing their darling scream, cry, and/or isolate themselves?

if rengoku isn’t at fault for making you upset, he’s HEARTBROKEN. he doesn’t like seeing you that way and he’ll find the person that did it and make them pay for it. HOWEVER, if he was the cause of it, he almost turns into a wall and brushes it off, probably murmuring that you deserved whatever it is that made you cry. 

U -Unique: Would they do anything different from the classic yandere?

honestly no. he wouldn’t only bc he’s very much the person that finds the classics of being a yandere as the only way to do it. anything like killing your darling or along those lines are way to extreme for him and he doesn’t like it when others step out of line. 

V - Vice: What weakness can their darling exploit in order to escape?

SENJURO RENGOKU. his little brother is also his world and i think if you catch kyojuro in a situation where you can exploit senjuro, he might give in but honestly, it probably won’t hurt and it’ll be worse for you when he finally has you alone. 

W - Wit’s end: Would they ever hurt their darling?

like i said before, only if it was necessary. he wouldn’t ever intentionally hurt you if you didn’t deserve it. he doesn’t like seeing you hurt and he hates seeing you cry so only if it came to you being a brat would he then actively physically punish you. 

X - Xoanon: How much would they revere or worship their darling? To what length would they go to win their darling over?

ehhhhhh, not really. he sees this relationship as 50/50 however he did kinda worship you when he wasn’t your boyfriend/husband but he would go different lengths in order to win you over. he doesn’t really care what he has to do, he will make you his whether you like it or not. 

Y - Yearn: How long do they pine after their darling before they snap?

tbh, it doesn’t take long before he snaps. if he sees you going out with someone and he feels like you might leave him, that’ll be a point. if he sees you being too free, that might be another point. in general, less than a year before he snaps. hell, less than half a year. 

Z - Zenith: Would they ever break their darling?

mentally, YES! physically, if he needed to. but not to the point where he’s killed you. 

[internalsealpanic]

Sealing the Deal part 1

Summary: Always, always be nice to sea creatures but never ever accept their pelt.

  A/n: A fic I’ve been meaning to write since forever. My contribution to mermay.

  warning: Disgusting fluff and bad decisions

Main Masterlist

part 2

You look like you're gonna die from boredom in your little fishing boat. 

 Dick rolls over to where Jason was sprawled and used his momentum to push the larger seal into the water. Jason gives an undignified squawk of outrage. Dick just preens and looks smug. 

 You cup your hand over your mouth as you begin to laugh. 

 Jason glares even harder at Dick. Dick... couldn't care even less if he tried. All he can focus on is the wrinkle in the corners of your eyes. They'd been gone for so long these past few months. It felt like the first ray of sun after a long storm.

 Dick claps his fins in excitement even as Jason snuffs and rolls his eyes. You clap in return but accidentally drop your fishing pole into the sea. Reaching for it, you fall into the water. Dick feels a little bad for laughing but you manage to get yourself back up into the boat safely.  You sigh in defeat as your fishing pole drifts away. Dick notices for the first time that your face has grown gaunt from the last few weeks. Are you eating enough? Are you even taking care of yourself? Dick swims over to your boat as it rocks back and forth on the waves. He hops in easily and plops onto your stomach. You laugh and pet his head. It was a weak laugh so he croons at you in question. 

 “Sorry pup, I don’t have any food for you today. I mean I don’t even have any for me.” Despite the sweet timbre of your voice, Dick can still taste the bitter hopelessness in the statement. 

He nuzzles his face into your chest. He can feel just how thin you’ve gotten. He has to do something about this. 

To say Dick had been afraid of humans would be a monumental understatement. It had been around 200 years since humans had left the island and the first thing they did when they came back was hunt down selkies. Dick's parents had been two of the unlucky few who'd been hunted down.

 So when Dick found himself stranded onshore because of a fin tangled in a fishing line, he thought he was a goner. And when he saw you approaching; well, he still thought he was fucked but he thought you'd at least be nicer than the adults.

 Maybe if he acts cute enough you'll spare him. 

 Dick whimpered and he gave you the big innocent look. 

 You shushed him harshly. Dick flinched then you flinched and muttered apologies.

 You approached him slowly. You looked around before crouching and fiddling with the line Dick had managed to get himself caught in. Carefully, you began to disentangle him. It hurt, especially when you took the hook out, but once he was free. He clapped and trilled before you shushed him again.

 Dick thought that it was all over and he could just roll back into the sea until you scoop him up and swaddle him in your shirt.

 After 10 minutes of your father screaming at you, he agreed to treat Dick who knew better than to snap at him. Your father was kind with gentle hands. He worked on Dick while you fed him fish. It wasn't the best fish but  Dick can't complain. 

 After an hour or so, Dick started to wriggle and you pull him closer to your chest. 

 "Dad, can we keep him for a few days? He might still be sick." You plead with big eyes. 

 Your father glared at you then sighed. "No more than two. His wounds just need to close up, understand?"

 You squealed a little. Hugging Dick tighter, you thanked your father before scampering off to find you a basin to put Dick in. You, thankfully, had the good sense to fill it with lukewarm water.

 Dick lived like a king in those two days. You fed him a lot of fish much to your dad's exasperation. You kept him warm. You even read to him and sang songs to him. 

 Dick wanted to stay but he missed Bruce, Alfred, Damian, and maybe that new kid Jason.

On the fourth day (one of the wounds was deeper than expected), Dick was released back into the sea but he never did manage to stay away after that

Dick sets the odd little trinket down in front of Jason's sleeping form. It was something you'd caught in your net days before along with the meager amount of fish you'd managed to net. You'd busied yourself with it for days before throwing it out. Dick wasn't sure what it was; all he knew was that it was something Jason would like. 

 He waits semi patiently for Jason to notice it, nudging it forward a little until it touches Jason's snout and the larger seal is forced to pay attention to Dick. 

 "I know when I'm being bribed, Dickface." Jason says, glaring. 

 Dick volleys it with a wide-eyed hopeful look. He nudges the little trinket forward again. This time, instead of ignoring him, Jason rises to his full height, teeth bared. This... does not faze Dick. 

 "C'mon Jaaaaaaay," Dick says as if the prolonging of syllables would whittle down Jason's irritation. Jason suspects if he were less inclined to tell Dick to fuck off, it would have worked. Probably. But as it stands, Dick is responsible for ruining a very good, very rare nap for Jason and so he's on the shit list and has lost any favor privileges until further notice. 

 "I said no. Go away or ask Bruce."

 "But Jaaaaaaay, it's just a teensy tiny favor. It won't even take an hour. Not with your skill at least."

 "That kind of flattery may work on Harper and it may even work on West but I'm not an idiot about to get involved with whatever shenanigans you have planned with the human."

Dick lets out a long-suffering sigh. Jason isn't stupid enough to think that Dick has actually given up. No, the stubborn little fuck is worse than a barnacle. "You've left me no choice-"

 "I have given you plenty of choices. Most of them involve minding your own goddamn business." Jason says with a little snuff. 

 "-I'm calling it in."

 Jason narrows his eyes at Dick.

 "Don't you dare. That was 5 years ago."

 Dick smiles, evilly. "Unless you want the rest of the family to know about-" 

 "Fine! What do you want?"

 Dick looks smug. Jason wants to bite his face off. 

 "I need you to help me catch fish."

 Jason looks at him, incredulous. "Did you hit your head or something?"

 "Not recently. Look, I just need you to help me catch fish for the human." Dick explains like it's the most obvious thing in the world. Contrary to what Dick seems to think, Jason really isn't concerned with the one human on the island. Most of the selkies on the island have barely even interacted with you outside of staring at you.

 "You're insane."

 "I think we reserve that term for Bruce." 

 Jason raises his head from the ground. "You're not wrong."

   You think you hear the light pitter-patter of raindrops. You sigh. You would be lying if you say you aren't the least bit thankful for the excuse to stay indoors today. You... don't exactly like foraging for food. You had avoided it for as long as you had food in the lighthouse. You thought it would at least last you 'til the ships came in but whatever is going on in the mainland has kept the ships from your shores. You don't mind. You never did find the sailors all that pleasant on the rare occasions that you did have to interact with them. 

 You like your island the way it is but... you're not exactly the most skilled at hunting... or fishing. You have no idea how your father did it. You chucked it up to the miracles of loaves and fishes. You miss him.

 You curl around your pillow in a vain attempt to chase the wakefulness away but the sun in your eyes was too bright. You flutter your eyes open. The sun had the audacity to be there. Still the splushing sound continued. 

 You strain your ears to listen, trying to make heads or tails of it. It was a squishy sound, the sound of putty hitting stone over and over again. You scramble to the front door. In hindsight, you probably should have grabbed a weapon before running towards the strange sound. 

 Opening the door, you're greeted with the sight of a familiar seal caught red-handed with a fish in his mouth.

 You stare at each other for a long moment before your eyes wander down to a pile of fish. A large amount of fish. Laughter rolls from your lips, musical and manic as you bury your face in your hands.

You think the seal furrows his brow at you, dropping the fish in its mouth before plopping towards you. Plop. Plop. Plop. He looks at you with big dark eyes. Your mouth twitches between curling down into a frown and a smile that spread across your face. On one hand, you are confused. On the other hand, you were gonna be able eat some meat. 

 A concerned croon comes from the pup and your face decides that it would rather smile at the moment. You throw your arms around him, not at all caring about the seawater getting on your nightclothes.

 "Thank you." You whisper and the seal answers with a happy trill.

 Dick is over the moon. 

 He can't even help how loud his trills get. It's ok you don't seem to mind either. He's just happy that you get to eat now.... but you don't. 

 Dick's a little frustrated when you don't immediately start digging in. Instead, you go back inside your home, swear, shout in delight then come back out with a basin and a jar of white powder. You then run around to fill the basin with seawater then add what Dick finds out is salt into the seawater. 

 Dick is... concerned. 

 You go back inside the house. When you come out again, you have a knife in your hand. Dick waddles back a bit. He knows you won't hurt him but it's a habit. You develop these kinds of habits around Bruce. 

 You settle yourself onto the ground cross-legged and grab a fish. Dick looks on with mild curiosity. You begin to dismember the fish by cutting off it's head, cutting it up in the middle then removing the bones and stomach. That kind of makes sense, Dick thinks. The bones are kind of annoying. Dick nods his head agreeably until you toss the fish into the basin.

 Dick looks on in utter confusion as you repeat the process with most of the fish he's brought you. 

 You turn to him looking equally befuddled before your eyes soften. You look sheepish. "Sorry pup, I can't eat all of this today so I'm salting them so I can eat them the next few..." You count the fish in the basin. "... weeks."

 Dick tilts his head but doesn't say anything. You really should just eat more. Dick can get you more if you need it. You just need to ask but you seem content with what you're doing. 

Dick is about to rest his head on your lap when you shoot up and scuttle back inside. You return with a line and a smile. Dick watches you string the fish up like laundry. He could probably help you but he has no clue if he should. Just eat the fish damn it.

Finally after what felt like forever, you start preparing the fish and actually eat. You offer Dick some and Dick has to admit cooking the fish does taste odd but not unpleasant. It's totally different from eating it raw (the better way) but it's not horrible. Or maybe it just tastes good because you've got the biggest grin on your face while eating.

Maybe.

 Probably, Dick thinks as he munches on his fish, pressed to your side.

___

 You sing at the top of your voice. It's a cheerful song but Dick can't quite make out the words. He knows it's human but he's not quite familiar with it. The tune is nice though. Dick rests his head on your lap closing his eyes.

 He croons happily when you being to pet him.

 You stop midway through the song dissolving into a fit, of what Dick can only describe as, giggles snorts. It was a despicably adorable sound that was engineered to make Dick feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

 He looks up at you with big curious black eyes. He's not complaining but he hasn't heard you laugh this much before and he may or may not want to know how to make you laugh like this again.

 When you don't answer his questioning gaze, Dick nudges against your chest. Your shoulders are still shaking but you manage to stop laughing for a moment. 

 "Sorry pup," you say wiping a tear from your eye, "I must look crazy to you. "

 A little but not as bad as Bruce, Dick thinks. Bruce thinks you humans still don't know there are selkies on the island. Dick snorts at the idea. Everyone knows that all you humans know about selkies. That's why those men keep coming here trying to trap them. 

 You squish his face affectionately with your hands. "My dad taught me that song and  I just realized..." Your mouth turns into a curved line of held back laughter. "...It's a sea shanty about missing being between a woman's legs." The last few words come out more as giggles than proper syllables but Dick can't enjoy that because he can feel his face warm up from the thought. He hides his face in his flippers. 

 You squeal, absolutely delighted with his mortification. Smiling down at him, you say: "Yanno pup, sometimes I think you understand me."

 Thought process-wise, no.

 Dick snuggles up to you again, blowing air out of his nose to voice his ascent. You can't just say things like that but again, you just simply seem amused by his suffering when you bend down to press a kiss to the top of his head. 

 Dick looks up when you pull away. No! Give him more!

 Dick stretches up to return the favor, having to partially climb on your lap but only managing to boop your nose with his snout. You nuzzle your nose against his and Dick makes the happiest noise in the back of his throat.

   Sometimes after wandering around you had a habit of falling asleep on the shore which Dick thought was fine until he found out that you couldn't swim. Dick being the only with brains in this duo always nudges you awake when the tide starts getting too close. Dick doubts the lapping water will wake you up before sweeping you away. After all, you managed to sleep through Tim, Kon, and Bart's rock piling contest on top of you. Dick shooed them away but even after cleaning up, you didn't wake up.

 Dick sees the sailors on the shore and nudges you. You... don't even blink. You hum, content to bask in the sun as you wrap your arms around Dick. Dick huffs. He likes this but he really would prefer it if you move. Dick considers slipping from your grip and grabbing a fish to slap you with like last time.

 Dick cranes his head to look at the ship again. It was far too close now, too close for you to get away without being seen by the sailors. 

 Dick turns you back over to your back and proceeds to body slam you with all his blubber. He winces when you make a choked noise. Dick can give you apology fish later. 

 "Pup, what the fuck?"

 You see the ship. Your eyes widen then flicker to his injured fin. Dick had injured it when he’d been swimming by the docks and got caught in one of the old traps. You’ve done your best to help it heal but you only know so much. You’re still reading up on herbs in case it happens again.  

 You try in vain to push him off but he's a big loveable sack of blubber and he refuses to move.  “C’mon pup, you need to move. They’ll try to catch you if they see you.” You grunt but the sack of blubber refuses to move. 

 You and Dick stay still as the ship draws near, neither of your chests rises or fall as the ship rocks back and forth.

The ship passes and you let your head fall back with a sigh. 

 Dick nuzzles his snout against your face, his whiskers tickling your face. You giggle and try to push him off. It’s useless so you let him stay there. 

 You both decide to take a nap on the shore with Dick huffing in your face once in a while as he snores. 

You curl up on the floor in front of the fire, watching the embers flicker, flash, and fade. It's the best thing you can do to calm your fraying nerves. The storm rages outside violently as if it was trying to tear the lighthouse down brick by brick. The whole building shakes with another boom of thunder. You close your eyes and burrow under the thick blanket. 

 In the back of your mind, your father is chuckling. The absence of a hand on your head is disconcerting. You remind yourself that it won't come, that you'll have to learn to weather the storm alone. You sigh then tighten the blanket around you.

Tok. Tok. Tok. 

 You blink. The fire was dying. When had you fallen asleep? 

 Tok, tok, tok. 

 Blinking, you rub the sleep from your eyes, but the haze doesn’t lift, only growing as you watch the firelight.  

 Tok tok tok. 

 You shoot up and barrel towards the door with the frantic knocking growing louder and louder as your feet pound against the stone floor.  

 You run into the door in your haste. The loud thud of your body against the door causes the frantic knocks to turn into muffled shouting.

 Prying yourself from the door, you open it and you don't know what you expected but this wasn't it.

 Standing in front of you was a man soaked like a wet rat. You blink in confusion before pulling him inside. You run to grab him a blanket. Wait. You should probably get him a towel. No, wait. You should have gotten his name first. Fuck. 

 You shuffle back into the room with a towel, spare clothes, and an extra blanket. You.. what can generously be called a heart attack. 

 For the first time, in the soft glow of the fire, you can fully admire your guest. Not see, admire because there was a lot to admire.

 The light of the fire flicking over the planes of his chest, with a light dusting of chest hair, the amber glow highlighting all the muscles of his body, framing the ripples of his toned figure. Swallowing any good sense you have, you watch the rainwater turn golden as it drips down his perfectly bronzed skin. The water cuts through valleys of muscle that could have only been handcrafted by gods. Your eyes follow the flow until... Oh.

 You flush furiously, your face glowing brighter than the fire. He's- He's- Oh my god, he's naked. 

 You reign your eyes in. Ok, you let it linger down there a bit. Not long enough for your guest to notice. You concentrate on his face which wasn't hard to do. The man pushes his raven hair out of his face letting you fully appreciate his face. In keeping with his body, his fine boned face looked like Pygmalion himself spent hours shaping it, not satisfied until he's made the perfect face. It's handsome in an adorable way. Not intimidating. It's the kind of face you'd like to pepper with kisses. You try not to focus on his lips in case of any sinful thoughts. You just met the man. The only thing you will note is that yes, his lips do look absolutely kissable and it aggravates you. 

 The most striking feature however are his deep blue eyes. The kind of deep that you feel like you could drown in. The kind of depth that looked too pretty to agonize over the fact that your lungs are burning. You stare, trying to carve a perfect replica of those eyes into your mind. Those eyes... that are currently staring at you... as he steps closer... at an alarming speed.

 You hold the stack of fabric in front of you like a shield. Your guest stops, looking at the stack. His face goes from concern to confusion to blinding enthusiasm. He was probably freezing.

 A smile spreads on his face, the cutest dimples you've ever seen forming on his cheeks, as he accepts the stack. He thanks you and your heart leaps from your chest. Whatever chill you were experiencing from the storm was completely gone. You turn away from him, rubbing the back of your neck and mumbling a halfway point between 'no problem' and 'you're welcome'. You hope it came out as 'no welcome' instead of  'your problem'.

 The man snorts and you are pretty sure which one came out. To save yourself the embarrassment, you walk to the kitchen and start preparing tea. The man thankfully occupies himself by looking at the assortment of knick-knacks you've hoarded gathered over the years. It gives you ample time to breathe.

 "Do you like sugar in your tea?"

 The man nods enthusiastically. You can't help but smile a little. 

 You sit next to him in front of the fireplace as you hand him his mug. He leans his head against your shoulder. You can feel his body radiating a comforting heat. 

 You two sit in silence, sipping tea and watching the fire flicker. You wanna scold him for slurping his tea. You're not exactly his mother. You don't even know his name. 

 You turn to him, face scrunched and about to ask him for his name when he surges forward. His lips brush against your lips as he nudges his nose against yours. You fall backward in shock and the stranger falls on top of you, his eyes still glowing bright and cool against the amber light.

 There's a thrill working up your spine or is it fear? You squeeze your eyes shut and throw your arms over your face. 

 "Please don't hurt me." You plead barely above a whisper. 

 You feel the body above you lower itself on top of you. He chuckles and shakes his head. "(Y/n), you're being silly."

 You open your eyes. The man is laying his body on top of you keeping you pinned down and he's... pouting at you?

 "I- I don't know who you are. You can take what you want but please don't hurt me."

 The pout deepens into a frown.

 "(Y/n), I'm not gonna hurt you. Don't you recognize me?" 

 You blink. You would definitely remember someone this eye-catching.  "You always sing that sea shanty to me. The one about the sailor who misses his wife's..." The stranger flushes and makes a hand gesture. Your face scrunches again. The only person you've sung that to aside from your dad is...

 "Pup?!"

 His frown morphs back into a pout. "I'm not even that little."

 You squish his face with your hands before you let your mind wander. You think back to the scars crisscrossing his limbs and chest.  "How is this possible?"

 He laughs, prying your hands from his face. "I'm a selkie," He says as if that was the most obvious thing in the world. "My name is also Dick, not pup."

 You stare up at him wide-eyed and stupefied. Dick snuggles against you like he always does. Somehow snuggling you in this form is better. He can hold you closer like this. You run your hand through his hair, fingers lacing through the tangles in his hair. He lets out an excited trill. 

 Dick might just be in heaven right now. 

 "I dunno how but you're somehow even prettier when I look at you in this form," Dick breathes contently. "I'm so lucky to have such a pretty wife."

 You stiffen. Dick looks up at you and the confusion in your face wrenches a knife in his heart. He swallows. "That is what you meant with this, right?" Dick asks, tugging at the collar of his shirt.

Your mouth turns into various shapes trying to piece together a coherent response. It settles on the simplest one. "No."

 Dick looks stricken like you'd taken a club to his head. 

 You reel back. "I just- I- I thought you were cold and you-"

 Dick's heartaches. It's a dull ache. He thought this kind of thing would be sharp like having a hook pierce your heart.

 His insides twist as he peels of you. 

 Your stomach sinks as you feel the cold fill your body once more. You don’t want him to go. The thought of being alone right now makes your stomach curdle. Your hands grip his shirt without meaning to. The look on his face hurts but the idea of him leaving felt unbearable. You know it's selfish but here you are begging him not to leave. 

 "Dick, I'm sorry... I didn't know... I-" 

 Thunder booms. You squeak and bury your face in his chest. You can't stand storms.

 Dick smiles down at you softly. It's still pained but it's bearable.

 He lays on his side and pulls you closer. He slots your face into his neck. You're still shivering even when he uses his body to shield you from the rest of the world.

 You whisper another apology.

 Dick shushes you, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

The sunlight floods into the room like it does every morning but the room is still cold. Your mind works to understand what's wrong with this picture. Your hand pads beside you. The space next to you is empty save for the blanket left behind.

 You sniffle, gripping the sheet in your hand. You messed up, you think, pulling it to your face. For the first time in months, the tears come easily. You lay there all day because the tears won't stop.

   "If you sigh one more time, I am going to rip your throat out." Jason growls not bothering to open his eyes. Why would he? Dick has been flat and mopey for the past two weeks and Jason is really starting to miss his hyperactivity. 

 Dick lets out another mopey sigh. Jason. Is. Going. To. Scream. 

 "Can't you be depressing in Roy's direction? Or Bruce's?" 

 Dick sighs even louder at the mention of Bruce and Jason, for once, is considering murder or at least maiming. 

 "She doesn't love me back."Dick sniffles and Jason really should have known this had something to do with you. 

 He turns to Dick. "I'm going to regret asking but how do you know that?" The sooner he sorts Dick out, the sooner he gets to sleep. "Did she tell you to go away and never come back?"

 "Well no-"

 It's Jason's turn to sigh. "You fucking moron, What did she even say?"

 "She said she didn't know." Dick lowers his head to the sand and Jason wants to slap him with his tail. 

 Jason is now fully awake and very ready to throttle Dick. Or he's just cranky. "Are you telling me Bruce was right?! This day just keeps getting worse."

 Something seems to click in Dick's brain. "Oh, crap Bruce is right." He mutters stupidly. 

Jason will take whatever consolation he can get out of this. "She probably thought you were just some random pervert flashing her then." Jason snickers. It's petty and childish but so is interrupting a well-deserved nap.

 "What?"

 Jason lets out an exasperated huff through his snout. He twists his body to look at Dick with minimal effort to lift his head.  "Let's see, you turned up naked at her door and then you called her your wife and nearly kissed her in what?  The space of 15 minutes?"

 "I got confused." Dick sputters. 

"Geez, I thought West was bad but you're just a disaster," Jason chuckles, "Oh! And you made the brilliant decision to leave without explanation," Jason is having far too much fun rubbing salt in the wound.  "She probably feels terrible”.

 "Are you guilt-tripping me?"

 "Is it working?"

 "What-" Dick growls. "Well, what do you want me to do?"

 "Hmmmmm, have you tried talking? Yanno the thing Bruce never does. But seriously, I can’t believe you call her your wife and then abandon her." Jason shakes his head. "And you have the audacity to call yourself the smart one."

 Dick strips out of his skin and begins running towards the lighthouse... naked.

 Jason debates on letting him.... he probably shouldn't.

"Dickface!" Jason calls out. 

 Dick doesn't stop, face crumpled in determination and his little Richard swinging wildly as he walks. 

 Jason is gonna die of second-hand embarrassment. 

 "DICKFACE!"

 "What?!" Dick asks turning around his hands on his hips. Like usual, his hip tilts to the side and his foot taps as he waits expectantly for Jason to gather a mildly coherent response. 

 "Your little Richard..." Jason says pointing with his fin.

 Dick looks down and the look of mortification on his face is satisfactory. ".... Right. Shit."

 "Just steal some from her laundry."

  "But she'll be pissed."

 "Ok, so you would rather flash her then?"

 Dick sighs and this time Jason doesn't have the urge to throttle him only because Dick is already beating his own ego into a pulp. "I hate it when you make sense."

 Jason raises a brow, setting his head back down to the warm sand.  "I always make sense."

 Dick just cackles in response as he heads to the lighthouse.

Dick shifts his weight on the balls of his feet. He feels sick like he'd eaten one of those pickled fish you made him one time.  Maybe this was a bad idea. Why did he even listen to Jason? He flips onto his hands and begins to pace.  His stomach feels like it's being tossed violently by ocean currents. It feels like a shapeless lump sitting in the pit of his abdomen. Maybe you're out or maybe you never wanna see him again.

 Your face had been so blown wide with shock when he had called you wife that it looked almost foreign like the suggestion had been so audacious that your face had to reconstruct itself to accommodate the shock. 

 Dick puts a hand to his face trying to stem the flow of thought. He was such an idiot. Why did he assume you would love him like that and why did he just leave you? Dick closes his eyes and breathes. He'll knock just once more then leave if you don't answer.

 Tok.   Tok.   Tok. 

 The knocks register just above a whisper. He thinks you don't hear it. 

 He lets out a breath and walks away. This was stupid. He should never have come back. 

 Jason was right. Fuck. Dick buries his face as he walks away.

 Distantly, Dick hears the squeak of rusty hinges but it's lost in the tempest of thoughts plaguing his mind, in all the little hurts from that night. 

 "Pup?" The sound of your voice is followed by the pounding of your feet against stand. Dick's careening to the ground before he knows it as your body collides with his. 

  "Pup," you sniffle into his shirt, "it is you." 

 Dick twist in your grip so he's facing you. Your face is buried in his shirt. He strokes your hair, wrapping an arm around you, holding you tight. "Of course, it’s me. Who else would bug you at this hour?"

 Dick feels his shirt grow warm. You mumble an apology.

You look up to face Dick with half your face still buried in his shirt. You've clearly been crying based on how red and puffy your eyes are.  Dick's stomach churns at the dark circles under your eyes. He feels guilt stab him in the gut.  All of that combined with your generally disheveled appearance. Dick can just tell that you haven't slept well the last few days. 

 "Let's go inside and talk." You say, peeling yourself off of him. 

 Dick shakes his head, not loosening his grip on your midsection. "Let's walk around you look like you need some sun."

 You flushed and put a hand to your cheek. "Do I look that bad?" You ask absently, a shy smile creeping into your features. 

 Dick smiles at you and pushes your hair out of your face. "Never but the weather is sunny for once and we both need some air."

"So you really didn't know that the island was filled with selkies?" Dick asks, adjusting the infernal scarf you had forced him into. He insisted that he didn't need it. He could just cuddle up to you for warmth but you were equally stubborn about him wearing a coat and the wool monstrosity strangling him. 

 Your face scrunches up in confusion." I- I don't even know what that is."

 Dick stops.

 You slow down upon realizing he wasn't by your side anymore. "You... don't know what a selkie is?" He asks, his face the definition of dumbstruck. 

 You shrink into your coat." My dad wasn't interested in things like that," you shrug, "I dunno much about..." Your hand twists in a circle, reaching for the right words. 

 Dick tilts his head. That made sense. "You thought we were all just seals?"

 You nod slowly, looking like you wanna shrivel up. 

 Dick starts laughing and you look like you're a second away from throwing yourself into the water. 

 "I'm sorry," he says, flailing. He's screwing this up again. He breathes to collect himself. "I just thought it's funny that we all thought my dad was wrong about you guys not knowing."

 You rub the back of your neck. "Most of us mainlanders don't really believe in magic, yanno? It's just such a foreign concept. Kind of hard to wrap my head around it."

 "I get that." The smile on his face makes your gut twist. You fiddle with your hands. 

 "So what are selkies?"

 Dick tilts his head, not exactly sure of how to word it because how do you explain something that's been obvious to you since you can remember to someone who just found out about it a few weeks ago?

 "We're fae, I guess-" Your face twists in confusion.

 Dick needs to backtrack. "We're fae..." This is hard. "We have this human form and we have our seal forms. We switch between them using our pelt."

 Your brow knits in confusion. "Which one is your true form then?" 

 Dick wraps his arm around your waist and holds you closer as you walk along the cliff tops. He hums as he thinks. "Both?" 

 You look up at him with a weary smile. “That makes sense in a way.” You hum.  Swallowing thickly, you fiddle with your hands. "So what was with the... um..." You clear your throat. "What was with the wife thing?"

 Dick’s mouth dries.  “Well... when we want to ask someone to be our mate... we- we kind of give them our pelt and I thought it translated to human clothes…” He stammers out dumbly. 

 “Oh...oh!” Your eyes widen into a look of horror. You open and close your mouth trying to form words. “Dick, I didn’t realize , that must have - I’m sorry I hurt you.” 

 “Please don’t apologize,” Dick says and presses his lips to the top of your head.  His lips are warm and comforting. “I’ve spent so long in love with you my brain just didn’t...” Dick’s mouth twists. “It just didn’t do what it was supposed to.”

 You would definitely laugh at that last part but you’re still seeing stars from the startling confession he just hit you with. You snuggle tighter into his embrace as you look over the sea. You don’t know how to respond. You really don’t and it frustrates you. It was all just a lot to take in all at once like you’d been tossed into the sea and you’re flailing and grasping at water. 

 But if nothing else, you’re at least glad that Dick is still talking to you. 

 “If you don't mind…” Dick says carefully, the look in his eyes determined. “Would it be alright if I try and pursue you properly?” Dick braces for a no. He’s not dumb enough to be hopeful twice but he needs to ask. 

 Inevitably, you freeze. You pull his arm closer to your chest. Swallowing, you ask: “you mean like a human courtship?”

 He nods closing his eyes.  “Yes, I want to court you.” He coughs clearing his throat.

 You’re silent for what felt like the longest 30 seconds of Dick’s life. Dick cracks one eye to see you fiddling with your hair. “Uh Dick, there’s this one problem that might make that difficult…” Dick raises a brow. It wasn’t an outright rejection but it wasn’t an answer. 

 “I don't know how that works either.” You laugh nervously, burying your face in his arm. 

 “Good - then we don’t know if I’m doing it badly.” Dick beams with a blinding smile.

 You twist to look at him, the corners of your mouth twitching. “That sounds like cheating.”

 Dick snorts, “would you rather I court you the selkie way?”

 “I mean it depends. What's the selkie way?”

 “Fish.”

 Dick startles when you let out a loud bark of laughter. “Fish? You’ve already done that so many times.” You giggle.  Dick tries to wrangle his mind away from the fact that he can feel your lips through the thin fabric of the sweater. 

 “I thought it worked.” Dick sighs. He really did, but alas, miscommunication is a cruel mistress.  

 You lower your gaze trying to concentrate on the fraying needlework of his sweater. “Maybe it has.” You mumble low enough for a human not to hear. How unfortunate it is then that you’re dealing with a selkie. 

 Dick is beaming when you look up again. He nuzzles his face against yours. Dick is once again insanely, stupidly, incredibly happy. 

__________________________________________________________________________

Because neither of you knew what you were doing, Dick's attempts to court you ranged from ridiculous (a literal mountain of fish that you ended up drying, giving away to the other seals, and selling to passing ships.)  to ridiculously sweet (finding you handful of pearls).  Dick nudged a little shell overflowing with pearls and looked up at you with liquid eyes.  He could have gotten you pebbles and it would have been endearing.

 It wasn't always gifts though.

 Sometimes Dick would just sit quietly with you on the beach, snuggling against your leg as you scratched his stomach. You love the ways his squish vibrated as he purred. 

 When summer passed and it became unbearable to watch the stars outside, Dick sometimes spent nights in your lighthouse, wrapped up in your sheets or wrapped around you. It was nice having him around the house even if he was kind of a slob. You love him but he is a mess.

 You made the mistake of introducing him to tea cakes and got him addicted to November Cakes specifically. As it turns out, your cute pest has a sweet tooth and will nuzzle you into submission just for another bite.

 If you ever doubted that Dick was evil before, you now have proof.

 During the winter, Dick insisted on staying in the lighthouse to keep you warm. You wanted to point out that you had a fireplace for a reason but it was so hard to turn down hugs from him.

And because you hadn't had the heart to clean out your father's room yet and Dick clearly preferred it, you let Dick sleep next to you on your cot. You felt a bit bad but Dick was just so happy with the arrangement that you didn't want to make him go away. Besides, it was nice to wake up to his sleeping face in the morning, all sleep rumpled and drooling.

 __________________________________________________________________________

 "Hey Jay, do you have a book on selkies?" Dick asks, caterpillaring on the rock Jason is sunbathing on. 

 Jason takes the opportunity to roll down the rock and knock Dick into the sea before saying: "No." It shall be put on record that there are no drama queens in the Wayne family. 

 Dick shakes off the seawater, big puppy eyes staring at Jason. 

 Jason glares at him. He can't even let Jason have a second of smugness.  "Ask Selina."

 No one really knows where Selina came from or why she stayed (well, they had their suspicions), but if you need something you can't find easily, your best bet was to ask her and hope she doesn't ask you to do anything ridiculously hard.

 Dick hasn't had first hand experience but from what Bruce tells him, they're mostly silly things like recite poems or do a flip. He could do both those things. Well, depending on the poem. He gets tongue twisted sometimes. Hmmm, maybe he should ask if he can avoid tongue twisters so he won't bite his tongue.

 Sloughing off his coat, Dick walks towards the glowing cauldron. 

 "Still no clothes pup? You're going to give a poor girl a heart attack." Selina tsked, reappearing from one of the other cave entrances with a handful of things Dick can't recognize. 

 "Oh... I- I'm still not used to it." He says sheepishly. 

 Selina chuckles, dumping the handful of what Dick can assume is plant debris into the cauldron while before dusting her hands off.

 Dick stares at the thick vat. A bubble rises and bursts emitting what sounded like a human voice. "What is that? Should I be worried?"

 "Oh no, no, this? This is just a little soup for colds."

 "It screamed."

 "All soups scream."

 "I- anyway, I came here to ask if you have a book on selkies."

 Selina tilts her head to the side. "I believe I do-"

 "Great!"

 "Buuuut..."

 Of course, the price.

 "I brought pearls and some seashells." He says hopefully. 

 The angle of her head does not change. Though from the gleam in her eyes, she's clearly interested. 

 "Tell me why you need the book."

 Dick's thoughts halt. Should he tell Selina about you? His eyes dart to the boiling cauldron.  "... Why do you need to know?"

 Selina flourishes her hand. The book appears out of thin air."Do you want the book or not, pup?"

 Dick's nerves pinch. Why does everyone call him that? "I need it to teach someone Selkie customs." He manages.

 "Oh! The little lighthouse keeper!"

 "You know her?"

 Selina shrugs. "Do you really think I wouldn't know something going on about the islands nearby?" She pinches his cheek. "Oh little pup, I know about your little crush. You spend more time on land than you do in the sea these days. Dami's been all huffy about it."

 He has.

 "I've told you my reason." Dick says holding his hand out. 

 "Hnnnn, you have I suppose." Selina sighs.

 Dick takes the book, putting it into a waterproof pouch before gingerly putting his pelt back on. He happily caterpillars out of the cave with the pouch in his mouth. He really hopes you'll like this.

You really should just fix up another cot for Dick at this point and maybe buy him a set of clothes when you go to town. 

 "It's too cold to sleep outside." Dick whines, flattening himself against you on the bed. 

 You lift your book to look at him. Dick just gives you that wide-eyed look when he wants something. You roll your eyes,  letting him snuggle up to you.  "Dick, it is obviously summer and you're like 40% blubber." You snort. 

 Dick pouts.  "You're still gonna let me sleep here." 

 You scrunch your face up and sigh. "I can't exactly let you brace the summer cold, can I?" You say, running a hand through his hair. 

 "Eeeeeexactly." Dick says happily as snuggles into you tightly.  He nuzzles his face into your neck wrapping his arms around your waist. You hum helplessly, curling into his embrace.

 "See." Dick trills with a happy grin. 

 "Are you going to be smug about it all night?" You huff, throwing a blanket over the two of you.

 "No," he says,  "you assume I can't keep being smug 'til sunrise."

 "Dork," you snicker, setting the book down. It was a book on selkie traditions that Dick had gotten you a few days ago. You devoured it the same night but you're reading it again and subtly testing things while Dick was invading your house. You hum, running your hand through his hair, fingernails lightly scraping against his scalp. Dick purrs against your chest. "There was a one eyed seal on the beach the other day. He was a grumpy fellow but kind of cute. Seals really are a sleepy lot. The big lug started snoozing on my lap after like 5 minutes." 

 Dick tense under your touch. He looks up at you seriously.

 "That was a selkie." Dick deadpans. 

 You stop your rambling. "What?!"

 "That grumpy one-eyed seal was a selkie." He repeats carefully. 

 Your breath stutters. "Are all of the seals on this island selkies? ALL OF THEM?" Dick is pretty sure your eyes are mounting an escape.

 "All of them, darling." Dick nods. 

 "Oh." You are so screwed. "Do you guys all talk to each other?!" You shouldn't have told that seal about your little crush. You want the mattress to swallow you up. 

 "Yes? Should I be concerned?" Dick asks, lifting his head. 

 "No! No reason!" You squeal, shaking your head.

 Dick pouts at you with suspicion. It occurs to you with some amusement that Dick is actually glaring. You wisely decide to sidestep the conversation. 

 "You guys love taking naps on people, huh?" You say, absently twining your fingers into Dick's hair. He settles his head against your chest. "That's just cus we like you." He hums. 

 A snort rips out of you. "You're just biased."

 Dick looks up at you seriously again. "We selkies like pretty things like any fae." Dick says, wrapping his arms around you more tightly. He's being petty but Dick has always been protective of you and he isn't about to stop now. Besides... he doesn't want anyone stealing you away.

 You frown at him. "Dick, there are far prettier things on this island and sweet talking won’t magically make November cakes appear." You huff, kissing the top of his head before picking up the book and using it to hide the smile shaping your lips. 

 You feel Dick pick himself up off of you. You peek over your book to watch Dick. He scoots closer to your face until the only thing separating you is the far too thin book in your hands.

 "You don't believe me, do you?"

 "No." You say. You don't mean it but it's the easiest thing to conjure up when Dick is this close. Your lips prickle from imagining Dick's lips against yours. 

 You weren't paying attention. Dick has apparently been going on a two-minute diatribe on how pretty you are and in that two minutes, Dick has managed to scoot even closer. He gently takes the book out of your hands to make sure you're paying attention. He fails to take into account the fact that his face is in fact distracting. Your eyes zero in on his very plush and very kissable lips. If you just lean forward a fraction, you could...

 Your lips feel warm and soft against Dick's, the rest of his diatribe dying in the back of his throat as his eyes flutter shut. His mind might just be melting out of his ears because the only thing he can think about is how soft you are and how perfectly your lips fit against his. 

 "I'm sorry." You whisper shyly. You should be sorry, Dick thinks. Who told you to pull away?

 You touch your fingers to your lips. Fuck, what did you just do?

 "You can do it again." Please, he almost adds. 

 You lick your lips. Dick perks up and leans closer. His heart is going to leap out of his chest. You lean closer. Dick can feel his heart pounding against his rib cage. 

 You kiss Dick on the nose and pull away, hiding your lips behind your hand as you snicker. Dick scrunches his nose and blows air out of it. 

 "You know perfectly well what I meant." He huffs. 

 You lean back into your pillow, grinning at him. "I have absolutely no clue what you're on about." You say slowly, smug.

 "Let me remind you then,"A grin takes over his face. Dick leans in, pressing his lips against yours. You exchange breaths as you drink in the feeling of each other's lips. Dick caresses your sides. He feels you shiver and he smiles into your lips. "That ring any bells?"

 "Not really..." You say, flickering your eyes to him. "But if you try again... it might."

 "Oh sweetheart, I can keep reminding you all night." Dick chuckles, winking. 

 Covering your face, you attempt to hide your embarrassment. You hate how easily he flusters you. "You can't just say stuff like that." You whimper. 

 "Why not? I'm supposed to be courting you and that includes buttering you up," Dick says, nuzzling your cheek. You're just too cute.  Dick gently pries your hands away from your face. "Don't hide your face from me, Honey."

 "Oh god, you're making me regret letting you court me."

 "Never."

 ______________________________________________________________________

 Dick's eyes are struggling to remain open as he watches the fire.  He burrows further into the thick comforter you'd given him. It's not quite as warm as his pelt but the fabric is puffy and it has a sweet smell that makes his head swim. 

 Dick angles his head slightly to watch you. You've been toiling for hours and refuse to tell Dick what it is. Your back is still hunched over with your foot bouncing on the floor. Dick lets his eyes flutter shut, listening to the sound of your shuffling tools. 

 You glance down at the adorable mess dozing off on your sofa. You gently move his hair out of his face. He swats at you sleepily, face scrunched even as he sleeps. You sincerely wish you had Damian's talent for art or that you had one of those cameras. You really wish you could keep a picture of Dick's sleepy face. It's the cutest thing in the world.

 "Hey Dickie," you whisper.

 "Hmmmmm?" He groans.

 "Could you hand me your pelt?"

 "Sure," he moans, blindly padding around for it. You snort as he nearly falls off the sofa. After groping nearly every surface, he finally finds the pelt. "here you-"

 The fur brushes your fingertips before Dick stops. Dick shoots up, nearly clipping your nose with his forehead. He's looking at you fully awake, drool still hanging off the corner of his lips."Are you sure?!"

 "Hand it over coward." You smile gently at him. You try your best to fight off the excitement bubbling in your veins. 

 Dick is off the couch, his own excitement barely contained as his whole body vibrates with happiness. He sits up. You hold out your hand but instead of handing you his pelt, Dick drapes it over you like a wedding veil. It's thick and warm to the touch. You let your hands brush over the silken fur. You can feel magic thrumming from it. It feels like a minute current of electricity but it doesn't flow linearly. It ebbs and flows as it pleases, pulsing beneath your fingers. You burrow yourself in it. 

 Something warm spills in Dick's chest as he sees you wrapped up in his pelt. Dick kisses your nose. "You have now been wifed."

 You twitch your nose. "You missed."

 "Nope. Don't think so. Buuuuut if you show me where you want me to kiss you..."

 You roll your eyes and surge forward, pressing your lips to his.  Dick smiles into it, pulling you close and savoring the sensation of your lips melding together. He makes a happy trilling noise while you laugh against his lips. 

 "That clear enough, Dickie?"  You ask, pressing your forehead against his. 

 "Yeah, I think I got it, wifey."

__________________________________________________________

THANKS FOR READING

Tag list:  @batarella​, @anothertimdrakestan, @lucy-roo, @multifandomgirl-us, @idkmanicantenglish , @birdy-bat-writes​,  @boosyboo9206, @americasmarauders , @l-inkage, @arestorationofbalance , @cloudie-skay, @wunderstell   @hyp-oh-critical @glorified-red @ marshmallow12435 @vvipgot7be​ @jadedhillon​​

[d-targaryenshoe]

Running Of The Good • Jackson Avery

Word count: 1038

Summary: Running from the good feelings is not what you're supposed to do is it?

"You've been avoiding Jackson for a week now, just face your feelings, y/n." Meredith walked next to you, talking quietly. "You did this with Andrew too, you ran from what you felt."

"Correction, Andrew did the same thing to me when i admitted what i felt for him." You squinted your eyes to the blonde next you. "You should do the same with Mc Widow."

"We're talking about Mc Widow?" Amelia caught up with the both of you, her eyes running back and forth from you and Meredith. "A heads up?"

"Pov is that y/n is still running from her feelings for someone called Jackson Avery, that's about it." Meredith shrugged as you rolled your eyes. "She's got it bad though."

"You still haven't pulled him into an on call room yet?" Amelia sounded sort of disappointed as she glanced at you. "The time is ticking off, do you know that?"

"The time that the two of you finally stop bossing me and my feelings around? Well, I hope it ticks of really fast, you two are getting on my last nerve, now i have a patient to talk to." You took the chart out of Amelia's hands, running up to the room.

Opening the door you saw the dark skinned man sitting on the bed while the television was showing the news channel.

"Chester, Amelia had a surgery on her hands, so you'll have to do it with me." You closed the door behind you as the dark man quietly chuckled. "What?"

"Nothing, nothing, just reminiscing all the years i've spend in here with this dirty tumor." The man shuffled himself on the bed. "Just waiting for the moment my heart gives up."

"You're not on your own, you know that." Pressing the sides of the mans forehead, you noticed how he pulled back in pain. "I wasn't even pressing that hard, you did take bed rest right?"

The man looked at you but quickly dodged your stare, turning off the television. "What if i didn't? I'm dying in the end anyways."

"Behavior changes, nothing new, we have those every week." You mumbled as you wrote something down on your chart. "Is there something annoying you?"

The man scoffed, throwing the remote at the end of the hospital bed, crossing his arms at you. "Listen, i'm gay, really gay and terminally ill, you know that, and i hate that you run from the hottest surgeon who admitted that he loves you, are you a woman or what are you? I guess Dr Grey and Shepherd were right."

"Those two eh? They hypnotised you as well? Was it the 'she's so stubborn it's not okay' or the 'try and talk some sense in her'?" Browsing through the medical chart, you waited for an answer of the older man.

"Option one sounded appealing, but it was the second option, actually." He answered, slightly smirking at you when you stared up to him. "I mean it, what is wrong with you, that man is a snack, and that's coming from a gay man."

"He's much more than that, he's determined, amazingly talented, he's there when you need him, an unbelievable single dad.." You pursed your lips when you noticed as you were rambling. "Never mind, you didnt hear a word, no, you did not."

"Honey, you're in love, and that's the only thing you can scream of a roof, it's the most wonderful thing in the world." He smiled, placing his head down on the pillow. "Or when i die? You can scream it out then too, let Seattle know their biggest drag queen died."

"You're so dramatic, but the good kind of dramatic , you keep me on my toes, most of the time." You closed the chart, sitting down on the side of the bed.

"Listen to me, y/n, love is painful and frightening. At times it'll make you doubt yourself, judge yourself, distance yourself from the people in your life. At days it'll makes you selfish as hell or make you say and do things you never thought you would do, been there. Love is what all of us want. But it's heavenly when we get there. So no wonder you're running from something that can flip your world upside down. My mother taught me that if we're born with love then love is about choosing the right person to put it on the line for. People talk about it a lot, meeting the right person, when it feels right it's right. And I'm sure that's true. It takes strength and power to know what's right. But love isn't something that weak people do. You're not weak, so let yourself love."

"So what do i do, do i just run up to him and throw it all out." You frowned, running a hand over your face.

"Yeah." He nodded, pressing on the on button for the tv. "Get out of my room and get him."

"Like i said, behavior changes." You shook your head as you got out of the room, noticing Jackson walking out of the hospital. "Fuck me.."

Dodging the nurses you started to sprint out of the hospital, no watching if there were any cars driving away. "You're gonna keep fucking walking or what?"

You came to a halt when you noticed that Jackson turned around with a shocked frown on his face.

"Cutting things with Jo was probably for the better , because we belong together." You started to slow down your breath, leaning your hands on your knees.

"After you've been avoiding me for a week, i already knew that." He answered, walking towards his car door and throwing his bag inside.

"We're literally each other's person, ever since Mercy West, we're great." You shrugged, shuffling back and forth on your feet.

"We really are." Jackson nodded his head,

"And beside my stubbornness, i guess it's time for me to face that i'm in love with you." You pursed your lips at the blue eyes guy. "Is that what you wanted to hear?"

He leaned forward slightly to grab your face in both his hands and kissed your lips, closing his eyes before pulling back. "And it took you seven days."