#drill through them both with a normal bit and clamps

[robotslenderman]

providing my parents enrichment by asking them DIY related questions

[tastybluesprite]

Hidden tools

Yay another fic!!! Not as long as I wanted it to be but whatever lol. And yes it’s more disaster twins bc I’m a little obsessed with them ❤️

Also I haven’t gotten to fully do a read through edit so if there’s any mistakes or something pliz excuse them lol.

Warnings: This fic contains tickling, so if that’s not your speed just keep scrolling

Summery: Leo stole Donnie’s tools and won’t tell him where they are. Donnie will have to use a certain method to get Leo to tell him where they are.

“LEO WHERE ARE THEY!?” Donnie screamed after the red eared slider as he sped after him. Leo thought it would be hilarious if he stole some of Donnie’s tools and hid them at random.

Now he was really in trouble.

Leo just dashed through the living room where he ran in on Mikey and Raph who were just hanging out on their phones.

Not a moment later Donnie appeared from the room entrance right after him.

“YOU!” Donnie snarled as he pointed a finger accusingly at him. Raph and Mikey both smiled at their two younger brothers. It was just another normal day in the lair. They figured they’d leave them too it to sort out on there own whatever it was they were fighting about.

The twins soon began playing a game of cat and mouse, circling the couch as one chased the other. Soon, with a burst of angry energy, Donnie was able to gain on the blue clad, and he tackled him to the ground, straddling him on the floor.

Leo decided to try fighting back and poked at Donnie’s side, to which Donnie flinched and almost fell off him. “Oh? You want to play it that way huh?” Donnie asked with an evil smirk.

A metal arm came out of his battle shell and grabbed Leos arms, pinning them above his head firmly.

“Now.” Donnie began. “You will tell me where you have hidden every one of my tools. Or else.”

Leo squirmed a little in the hold, but when he realized he wasn’t getting out of this, he decided he might as well mess around with his dear twin. “No.” He said with a smirk.

Donnie raised an eyebrow. “Wrong answer Nardo…”

And he began digging into his sides. Leo burst into giggles as he tried shaking off the hands with his own body, but it was practically no use. “Ihihihi dohohont hahahve to tehehell yohohou ahahanythihihing!!!” He said defiantly.

“Oh you think so do you?” Donnie replied back. “Well then, I guess you won’t mind me doing this?” And he began scratching at the sides of his shell, making Leos laughter go up a few octaves.

“Leo, why must you insist on doing this the hard way?” Donnie asked with a sigh.

“Ihihihi Dohohont knohohow ahahanythihihng!!!” Leo told him through his laughter.

“Oh playing dumb now are we Leon? Fine, I didn’t want to resort to this, but this ought to loosen your tongue…”

And he began to squeeze at his thighs. A deadly ticklish spot.

“NAHAHAHA DAHAHAHONNIHIHIEE!!!” Leo squealed through newly erupted cackles. He desperately wiggled his leg around in attempt to dislodge the torturous hands, but Donnie’s hands weren’t going anywhere.

Soon Leos laughter went all silent and wheezy, and Donnie had no choice but to give him a break. However he kept a hand on on of his thighs.

“Well?” He asked the now red faced, teary eyed, and breathless slider.

“F-fihihne!” Leo surrendered through his remaining giggles. “Y-your… wrench.. is on.. on top of… the fridge. The screwdriver… is… under my bed. And that bag thingie of… small metal bits… is behind the TV over there.” At the last confession, he pointed to where the TV was.

“That all?” Donnie asked with a raised eyebrow.

“Y-yes… fIHIHihihne!!!” Donnie had twitched his thigh clamped fingers threateningly.

“Y-yohohour drill is in splinters dojo.”

Donnie narrowed his eyes and began, more gently now, squeezing at his thigh.

“THAHAHAHATS AHAHAHALL IHIHI SWEHEHEAR!!!!” Leo shreiked, now trying more desperately to wrestle his hands out of the metal arms.

“Oh I know.” Donnie said with a grin. “This is just payback for messing with my stuff.”

“WHAHAHAT NOHOHO FAHAHAHAIR!!!”

“Uh, scoff! On the contrary, it’s completely fair. You did the crime and now you must pay for it.”

“DOHOHOHONNIE!!!”

[just-another-blog-of-fluff]

A Duel Between Brothers

Word count: 2750

Ok, so this one is one I started months ago, even before most of the other fics I've written, but I never finished it. I just randomly got inspired to finally write the ending. Hope it came out alright!

This one guest stars Thor (trying to write for some other characters here and there!)

* * *

All you had wanted was to sit quietly and watch some TV. Simple, really.

You didn’t expect to walk in on a full-on brawl between the two Asgardian brothers. If you could call it that, really.

You had been making your way down to the common area in the tower when you heard the shouting. At first you were concerned someone was in the process of being beaten to death, the yelling was so loud. Then you noticed the booming laughter strewn throughout the shouts, and you breathed a sigh of relief. Just the boys again… you thought, slowly approaching the doorway to the common area.

Thor and Loki often fought with one another, so this didn’t really come as a surprise to you. What you didn’t expect was to find Loki pinning his brother to the floor, Thor’s laughter echoing through the room as Loki tickled him mercilessly. The sight was sort of adorable.

“It’s not as enjoyable as it was when we were children when you are on the receiving end, now, is it brother?” Loki taunted. Thor reached up to shove his brother off, but Loki was agile, his fingers darting under the elder brother’s arms so he’d clamp them down at his sides.

You felt heat prickle in your cheeks as you stood quietly in the doorway. You were quite ticklish yourself, although no one in the tower was privy to that information just yet. It was unclear whether you were happy or disappointed by this – you actually enjoyed being tickled, in a fun, playful, sometimes flirty way. You also had a weird tendency to feel ‘sympathy ticklish’ when you saw someone else being tickled. Of course, these weren’t things you wanted to openly admit. So, you tried to stay out of the way in the rare instances you came across a tickle fight such as this in the tower.

After watching for a few moments, you already felt tingles on your sides and a small smile growing on your face. You turned to walk back out of the room quietly before the boys noticed your presence. Unfortunately, you’d waited just a moment too long.

“Lady Y/N! Plehehease! I-I require assistance!” Thor begged. You stopped dead in your tracks and spun back around to find both Thor and Loki’s eyes on you. Loki had let up on his brother for a moment as he observed you with a questioning look.

“Oh, uh… I don’t want to get in the middle of this. Sorry Thor, you’re on your own,” you stammered, remaining at a safe distance in the doorway.

“Were you planning to use the common room, Y/N? Please, don’t feel you need to leave on our accord,” Loki insisted, resuming his attack. You took a few gradual steps into the room, unsure how best to proceed from here. If you appeared too anxious and left, surely, you’d give yourself away. If you stayed, you’d have to watch the boys fighting, and your expression may also give you away. You opted for a sort of in-between option for now, standing a few feet away from the brothers but not yet making yourself comfortable.

“Are you sure I won’t be in the way?” you asked timidly, though loudly enough to be heard over Thor’s boisterous laughter.

“Please. Sit down. Pay us no mind,” Loki insisted, conversing casually as if he wasn’t currently torturing his brother. Reluctantly, you sat gingerly on the couch and picked up the remote to turn on the TV.

You couldn’t bring yourself to relax into the couch cushions, so you sat unmoving while trying to avoid looking at the brothers on the floor a few feet away. You couldn’t help but steal an occasional glance at the pair. It was taking everything you had not to start giggling nervously as you watched Loki tormenting his brother. You could only imagine what it would be like if you were in Thor's position...

“Were you planning to use the remote? Or were you simply hoping the television would magically turn itself on?” Loki asked, jerking you from your thoughts.

“What?” You looked down at the remote in your hand, still unused. “Oh. Yes. I was going to watch some TV.”

“You seem a bit… uneasy,” Loki noted, finally releasing his brother as he turned his full attention to you.

“Brother, you will pay for-“ Thor was silenced before he could finish his threat as Loki held his hand up, silencing him.

“What do you mean?” you asked innocently.

“You clearly seem distracted by something. Normally you’re shoving people out of the way to get to the remote to watch your silly reality television programs, but today you seem to have forgotten how to turn the television on. And you’re stiff as a post.” His eyes narrowed a bit as he tried to analyze your expression, and you felt a blush creeping up your neck.

“I’m not sure what you’re talking about, Loki. I’m fine.” You leaned back against the couch cushions to prove your point and propped your feet up on the coffee table, aiming the remote at the TV. Before you could press the ‘on’ button, Loki stepped between you and the cable box, a slow smirk spreading across his lips.

“Tell me, Y/N… are you ticklish?” Your eyes widened for a moment, almost imperceptibly, at the unexpected question. Quickly, though, you tried to regain your composure, clearing your throat, and steeling yourself.

“No, Loki. What would make you think that?” you inquired, fighting to hide the smile that was tugging at the corners of your mouth.

“You’re not exactly subtle, darling.” The mischievous glint in his eye made you jumpy, and you slowly rose to your feet to move away from the advancing Asgardian. “For one, you’ve been blushing furiously since entering the room to find me torturing my brother. And that is only after you attempted to leave before we noticed your presence.” He started to take a few steps toward you as you slowly backed away, cursing your face for having betrayed you. “In addition, you’re already attempting to hide what I assume to be your most vulnerable areas,” he gestured at your arms folded across your ribs, which you promptly lowered to your sides. Your back suddenly met the cold plaster of the wall, and you mentally cursed yourself for literally backing yourself into a corner.

“I-I really think you’re o-overanalyzing this, Loki… you’re just being r-ridiculous,” you insisted, pressing yourself flat against the wall as Loki blocked your exit, placing a hand against the wall on either side of your head.

“Oh, am I?” His face was now only inches away from yours as his impish smirk continued to grow bigger. “Well, darling – there’s only one way to find out.”

Without any additional warning, he brought his hands down to latch onto your sides. The suddenness of his movement made you shriek as you grabbed hold of his wrists. He kept his fingers still, pressing just gently enough into your skin to set your nerves on fire.

"Wait, wait, wait! C-can't we talk about this?" you asked nervously, the god leering down at you with an evil grin on his face. He applied just a bit more pressure with his fingers, causing your breath to hitch in your throat.

"Any last words?" Loki asked, his eyes gleaming with mischief.

"I- eep!!" You opened your mouth to respond, but he suddenly began kneading his fingers into the soft skin of your sides, causing you to squeal and begin giggling rapidly. Your knees buckled as your muscles weakened with laughter, and you slid down the wall as you sank to the floor.

“Oh no, you’re not going to escape that easily,” Loki teased, halting his attack to scoop you up off the floor and carry you over to the couch, holding fast despite your thrashing.

“Whyhyhy?!” you cried, still giggling from the residual ticklish tingles in your sides and the giddiness you felt at suddenly being swept up into Loki’s arms. “What did I do to you??”

“God of Mischief, darling,” Loki mused, dropping you unceremoniously on the couch you’d been seated on when this all began. Before you could move to escape, he planted himself down on your legs to keep you from kicking him as he dug his fingers into your sides once again. You batted at his hands with your own, trying to cover your weak spots as best as possible. “Now, Y/N, you’re making this difficult. Thor, a little assistance here please?”

“Certainly, brother!” Thor obliged, grasping your wrists and pinning them above your head, leaving you feeling even more vulnerable to Loki’s ticklish onslaught.

“Thohohor! Why are you helping him??” you pleaded, tugging at your arms to no avail.

“I apologize, Lady Y/N, but you should have assisted me when I requested your help,” Thor replied, his tone somber but his eyes bright with amusement. “In addition, you are adorably ticklish!” You groaned, your face burning even more, if that were even possible.

“Now then, tell me – where else are you 'not' ticklish?” Loki queried, moving his torturous fingers to your belly without awaiting an answer. You shrieked and squirmed a bit harder, which Loki turned into a game, moving both hands to one side and then rapidly switching to the other when you twisted and exposed yourself. “You’re not doing a very good job maintaining your blatant lies, Y/N.”

“OKAHAHAHAY! I’m ticklihihish! You wihihin!” you implored.

“Yes, I believe we’ve established that, thank you,” Loki replied sarcastically. “I’m having too much fun now to let you off that easily. Where was it you were trying to hide? Oh yes, I remember!” He dug his fingers into your ribs and your laughter grew more desperate, your muscles turning to jelly as he spidered up and down your ribcage.

Meanwhile, you felt another five fingers start scratching underneath one of your arms. You squealed, glancing up to see Thor hovering over you with a huge grin on his face, still grasping both your wrists in his other hand.

“NOHOHO THOR!!” you pleaded, the sensation overwhelming you between Loki’s fingertips drilling in between your ribs while Thor simultaneously spidered his fingers in the hollows under your arms, swapping between each side to keep you squirming.

“Brother, we do not want to kill our little friend here,” Thor warned as your laughter was growing silent, hiccoughing intermittently.

“I suppose you’re right,” Loki agreed, stilling his fingers against your upper ribs but not yet releasing you completely. Even the feeling of his fingertips pressing into your sides, unmoving, was unbearable; keeping you giggling and squirming. “I’m not even tickling you! Have you gone mad?”

“Nohoho, I can’t help ihihit!” you whined. Loki finally let go of your ribcage and Thor released your wrists, allowing you to breathe for a moment.

You certainly weren’t expecting to get yourself in this predicament when you’d entered the common room. You supposed you could have maybe pictured a situation like this with Thor, but never with Loki. While he did have a trickster reputation, you’d never really thought of him as the playful type.

You’d become friends with Thor almost immediately. On numerous occasions, you’d hung out with him and some of the other Avengers in between missions, showing him the art of Midgardian video games and laughing at his overenthusiastic excitement. In a way, Thor was like the older brother you never had.

With Loki, things were different. During the few months you’d been living in the compound, you had interacted with Loki only intermittently during mealtimes or in the training room. He didn’t say much except to his brother, but his sharp wit and sarcastic sense of humor had drawn you to him, and not in a familial sense. It was odd, really; you had only said a few words to him here and there, and yet you felt yourself falling for him hard and fast. There had been just a few longer conversations that you treasured – discussions about a mission, or a novel he was reading or a movie you had watched. He was always friendly when you spoke, but it was hard to know how interested he really was in chatting with you.

You’d been hoping to capture his attention somehow, but around Loki you seemed to forget how to formulate proper sentences. Never in a million years did you expect to find yourself pinned down and tickled senseless by the God of Mischief. But now that it was happening, you weren’t ready for it to end just yet.

You seized the opportunity while Loki and Thor thought you were still weakened from laughter to reach out and grab hold of Loki’s sides, getting in a quick squeeze or two before he grabbed hold of your wrists.

“Haven’t had enough, yet, have we? Oh darling, you’re going to regret that,” Loki warned ominously, pinning your wrists to his chest with one hand and digging into your ribs once again. A new wave of helpless giggles spilled from your lips, and you yanked desperately to pry your wrists out of Loki’s grasp. “It’s adorable that you think you can escape me, really. I am a god – do you truly think your strength outmatches mine while you are in such a weakened state?”

“Lohoho… Loki!! Stahahahp teasing!” you pleaded.

You hadn’t noticed Thor’s absence above your head until you felt a large hand wrap around your ankle. You shrieked as a finger traced the bottom of your foot, tugging your leg to pull out of Thor’s grasp.

“Brother, what in the nine realms are you doing to make her thrash so much?” Loki asked, turning to look back at Thor without halting his attack on your ribs.

“Well, brother, it appears our little friend has ticklish feet as well,” he responded casually, an air of amusement in his tone as he wrapped both ankles in a headlock with one arm and fluttered his fingers up and down both soles simultaneously with his free hand.

“GUHUHUYS!! I CAHAHAN’T!!” you shrieked through wild laughter.

“I suppose we should let up so our dear mortal can breathe,” Loki pondered aloud, slowing his fingers to simply scratch at the bottom of your ribs. Thor released your ankles as well, returning to your side so he could grin down at you with endearment. You pushed Loki’s wrists away from your torso so you could curl up and wrap your arms around your ribcage, residual giggles still bubbling from your chest.

“Rehehe… remind me not to walk in on a tickle fight between you boys ever again,” you mused, chest heaving with exertion.

“A poor decision, really,” Loki agreed, smirking down at you.

“Brother, we should allow Lady Y/N to watch her television program, now that we’ve finished tormenting the poor girl,” Thor urged, tugging on Loki’s arm.

“Wait!” You sat up, stopping them before they turned to walk out of the room. “I… uh… I don’t mind if you guys want to stay and hang out. Watch a movie or something..?”

Loki looked at you with surprise and confusion written across his face. If you hadn’t known any better, you’d have thought that just maybe you saw a hint of red tinged across his sharp cheekbones. Thor smiled, glancing over at you, then back up at his brother.

“I do apologize, but I have a prior engagement I must attend,” Thor responded woefully. “However, Loki would most certainly love to keep you company, wouldn’t you brother?” Loki shot him a wide-eyed look as Thor pounded his large hand against the back of his shoulder, causing him to lurch forward a bit from the impact. Thor’s smirk never faltered, his eyebrows elevating ever so slightly as he held Loki’s stare.

“I would like that,” you said after a moment, breaking the silence. Loki’s head turned to look at you, and upon seeing your pleading eyes staring up at him, his face broke out into a genuine smile.

“Well, who am I to say no, then?” He took a seat beside you on the couch as you aimed the remote at the TV, searching through the movie list. Thor bade you goodbye as he ducked out of the room, leaving you alone with the handsome trickster sitting beside you.

The opening credits began scrolling across the screen. Maybe it was the residual adrenaline from having been tickle tortured only moments before, but a surge of bravery ran through you, and you leaned your head against Loki’s shoulder. You were rewarded with a gentle laugh, vibrating from deep in his chest. He wrapped his arm around you and tugged you closer, his hand resting against your side. You flinched as his fingers twitched, digging slightly into your skin.

“Sorry, love – I couldn’t resist,” he chuckled in response to the playful glare you shot at him. He moved his hand to rest on your arm, and you nestled in comfortably against his side. You weren’t sure yet exactly what this was, but you most definitely liked where it was headed.

[honeesucker]

Tsukishima Kei x F!Reader

Tsukishima Kei as part of my Haikyuu Boys reacting to your hand on their thigh…

Word Count: 2,165

Warnings: Playful degradation & praise, semi-public sex (bathroom).

Koganegawa was slurring his way through a story about the Sendai Frogs most recent game, hanging off Kyōtani who had a scowl on his face and was trying to push the big player off of him unsuccessfully (you don’t think he was trying his hardest, though) with you and a few others laughing at the sight before you. You snuggled into Kei’s side, his arms resting in the table, hands loosely cupped around his beer when you placed an innocent hand on his leant muscled upper thigh. You were Kei’s opposite when it came to affection, physical and emotional, but he put up with your need for touch because, in his words, “you annoy me the least out of everyone” - and that was a sense of pride and elation for you.

You were still laughing and focused on Koganegawa’s messy recount of the match, but Kei was focused on you, the red blush to your ears from your drink (lightweight), your small hand dwarfed by his size. Your hands close proximity to.... Without a word Tsukishima bolted upright and only you noticed, giving him a concerned look. Everyone else was either too drunk or too entranced by the humorous stories to care to notice the odd behavior. Tsukishima pulled you up and along with him, down around the bar and into the back hallway where the restrooms and door to a back alley was for smoking and garbage.

“K-Kei, where are we going? Is everything okay?” You were genuinely concerned thinking you did or said something wrong and he was upset, you heart was sinking a little, dejected like a scolded puppy. He pulled you along before pulling you into the men’s bathroom and locking the door behind you both. You were going to question what was going on before he towered over you, slender hands cupping your cheeks to force a hungry kiss. His mouth took over and you parted your lips with a soft sigh, letting him lead the exchange. Your head was spinning from the sudden U-turn of emotions, and the growing heat between your legs, Kei pushed you further against the wall, flattening your body between him and the cold tile. One of his knees pushed between your legs, and up against the increasing heat and wetness soaking through your thin lace panties. Kei finally broke the kiss, your ears blessed with the sound of his heavy panting, his forehead bent down and gently pressed against yours. Your eyes were closed shut but forced their way open when he grabbed your hand and placed it over the hardening bulge in his pants, growling under his breath.

“See what you do to me, annoying little brat?” He groans, your hand adding a bit of pressure like you knew he wanted, pressing into the bulge of his cock while your other hand fumbled with his belt, button, and zipper. You just gave a soft him and he grabbed your face between his hand, his pointer and thumb crushing your cheeks so you looked like a pouty fish. “You really wanted this, didn’t you? Knew how crazy it would make me with your hand that high up my leg,” he peppered soft kisses along your jaw and down to your neck, “practically jerking me off in front of my friends,” you opened your mouth to protest until you felt where he sunk his teeth down on the sensitive flesh of your shoulder, causing you to cry out before his large hand clamped down over your mouth. “I don’t want to hear anything else from you unless it’s to beg me to let you cum for being such a brat,” you nodded, even though teasing him wasn’t what you were doing tonight you knew better than to go against him when he was acting this way.

A hand on your shoulder told you to fall to your knees onto the dirty wood of the floor, and you did so without thinking. He had already gotten his pants the rest of the way off, letting them fall to below his knees and you lent up and placed your hands on his thighs, using only your mouth on him. You began with kitten locks to the tip, gathering the salty pre-cum before swirling your wet muscle around the head and along the underside, slurping along the length as his head fell back and soft throaty groans rose up from his chest. A shudder ran through your body, his sounds were your favorite, hearing him lose control and come undone in any way was an instant jolt to your whole body. You made your way back to the tip of his length, and engulfed as much of him as you could manage yourself given his slight girth and definite length over anyone else you’ve known. His hands came down to tangle in your hair, the grip was still gentle but enough to make your scalp tingle. You continued to bob along his cock, drool slipping out the corners of your mouth.

Without warning the grip Kei had on your head tightened and he pushed more of his length than you he ever taken further into your mouth, the head of his cock hitting the back of your throat in no time, a small gag causing you to whine, the vibrations only spurring him on as he forced you down on him, your nose coming in contact with the small, well-trimmed patch of golden hair at his pelvis. You were drilling and whimpering, you gag reflex triggering a few times while he held you down on him. You knew this game with him, to see how far he could really push you before you gave in. You had never played it with his whole cock down your throat, but you knew to try and breath as best as you could through your nose, and surprise the urge to gag as much as possible though every time you did it pulled a small groan from Tsukishima’s lips.

You were so close to tapping out on his thigh, your unspoken signal for “stop”, but he knew you would try to do your best for him past your own limits - and luckily he knew your limits well. He pulled you off his length, and you feel back on your butt sputtering and coughing with the rush of air coming back into your lungs. Kei laughed, and you looked up to find him smiling down at you.

“What a sloppy whore,” he praised, “I didn’t think you had it in you to last that long but you proved me wrong,” he pulled you to your weak feet and gently guided you to the wooden bench against one of the father walls of the bathroom, meant for setting personal belongings on. He sat down and lowered you onto his length without any prep. He knew you were soaked, and he was right. His cock slipped in without much resistance, and in this position he went in deeper than normal, creating an almost uncomfortable fullness as the head of his cock bumped into your cervix. You whined at the sensation as he guided your hips up and slammed you back down on him, his head leaning back against the tile wall as he used you like a warm, living sex toy. Pulling your body in whatever way suited him reaching his release. At the angle and roughness he was thrusting into you, the delicious ridges of his cock catching against your g-spot and had you seeing stars. Your silken walls were clamping down on him and you couldn’t stop the whine that left your mouth.

“K-Kei, please baby, please l-let me cum,” you pleaded, your hands balling the fabric of his shirt in your fists as you leant against him, “please Kei, please let me cum in your cock,” your begging turned into incoherent babbling as Kei sat up and moved your arms around his neck, standing up and allowing your legs to curl around his hips as he continued to thrust into you with the speed and strength only a damn athlete could. You were crying now, streams of tears pooling in your eyes and slipping down your flushed cheeks as Kei continued his assault on your sopping hole. The squelching sounds heating the tips of your ears in embarrassment but was drown out by your immediate need to cum. You were on the absolute edge as you heard his low voice whisper past the haze in your mind.

“C’mon you little brat, go ahead and cum for me,” he goaded and it took you no longer than him to finish that sentence than for your walls to clamp down on him and spasm around his cock as his hips stuttered in you, and with one final thrust into you you felt his hot white seed painting your insides and filling you up so well. He gave a few more thrust that had you writing in his grip and whining that it was “too much, m’too sensitive Kei,” but he just laughed and did it once more causing you to let out a Yelp before stilling inside you with a dark chuckle.

He gently sat you both down on the bench, your head resting on his shoulder as he rubbed his hands up and down your back. Your pussy was still giving off little spasms as he slowly lifted you off of him and seated you against the wall before standing up and righting himself. He pulled you to your feet, helping your wobbly legs keep balance as he helped straighten out your dress. He smirked as he helped you back into the thin lace panties you wore, knowing his cum was gonna be leaking out of you and this wouldn’t do much to stop it.

He pulled you into his side and before unlocking the door, pulled you under his arm and tight against his side, giving you a tender kiss on the temple before whispering, “thank you baby, you’re such a good girl for me.” Your cheeks flushed pink and he just laughed, keeping you close as he walked you both back to the group who didn’t seem to notice you two were gone. He had you right under his arm, his limb wrapped around you and resting on the table with a new beer back in his hand as you both sat on the bench, surrounded by laughter and feeling so wildly satisfied.

For now.

[tickly-trashcan]

Strumming {MafuYama}

A/N: ooh excited to finally write for given! I decided to merge these two just because they both gave me a pretty good idea, hope you don’t mind! oughh i havent written for these two yet, i hope they’re in character enoughhh and I hope you enjoy even if it’s not perfect sbjkfsjkfsk

Summary: Mafuyu is still learning the guitar, but Uenoyama eventually gets impatient while trying to teach him and decides to take a more physical approach.

Word Count: 1.1k (under the cut)

“No, Mafuyu, you’re still doing it wrong,” Uenoyama said, sitting next to Mafuyu. Mafuyu frowned, looking at the guitar in his hands as he tried strumming it again, holding his hands to keep the note right.

Uenoyama sighed. They had been working on some harder notes for the past hour or so, ones that were more difficult with the positioning of your hands, and Uenoyama was nearly at the end of his rope.

He loved Mafuyu, he really did, but he could be so aloof and out of it sometimes that he wasn’t able to pay proper attention and do things correctly. For the most part it was endearing, but in times like this it could be more than a little frustrating.

Mafuyu looked down at the guitar and frowned. “Am I doing bad?”

Uenoyama felt a sudden pang in his heart at seeing Mafuyu sad, and quickly tried to make him feel better.

“You’re not doing bad at all. You’re still learning, it’s only natural to make a few mistakes… here, let me help you,” Uenoyama flushed as he sat behind Mafuyu and wrapped his arms around him, holding Mafuyu’s hands and adjusting their position on the guitar.

Mafuyu’s aloof demeanor made him think nothing of the position that he was in with Uenoyama, who was currently a burning mess. Uenoyama took a deep breath and moved Mafuyu’s hands around, helping him strum and adjusting the way his fingers were positioned on the guitar.

“Try that.” Uenoyama said, resting his hands on Uenoyama’s sides. He squirmed, strumming an off-tune note, definitely not the one Uenoyama had just set him up for.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Mafuyu answered simply. “Where do I put my hands again?”

Uenoyama sighed for what must have been the hundredth time that day and placed his hands on Mafuyu’s again, making himself flush as he adjusted his partner’s hands. He nodded his head in satisfaction when they were in the correct position, letting go and placing his hands on Mafuyu’s sides again.

“Try that… Mafuyu?”

Mafuyu squirmed again, huffing as Uenoyama’s hands lightly squeezed his sides. Uenoyama was confused and more frustrated by what seemed like Mafuyu’s inability to pay attention.

“This isn’t funny, you need practice,” He said, frowning and Mafuyu shook his head.

“Y-You’re tickling me!”

Uenoyama blinked a few times as he registered what exactly Mafuyu had said. He was… ticklish? Uenoyama blushed as several thoughts ran through his mind, and he finally turned his attention back to his hands. He squeezed them and Mafuyu shrieked, gripping his guitar and hunching over. Uenoyama chuckled.

“That was quite a reaction,” He said, and Mafuyu let out a soft whine, looking back at Uenoyama with a pout in his lips.

“Don’t tease me,” He pouted, and Uenoyama only grinned.

He squeezed his sides again and Mafuyu squeaked, twisting around and giggling softly. Uenoyama slowly got into a rhythm with his kneading, making Mafuyu’s giggles slowly escalate. He gently threw the guitar to the side and grabbed at Uenoyama’s hands, trying to peel them off of his sensitive sides, squealing when Uenoyama travelled up to his lower ribs.

“Be gentle with your guitar, Mafuyu!” Uenoyama half-scolded, half-teased as he leaned his head against Mafuyu’s shoulder, kissing his neck. He squeaked again, scrunching up his shoulders and shaking his head. Uenoyama grinned as he continued to pinch up and down Mafuyu’s sides and lower ribs.

“Is this why you never let me kiss your neck? Too ticklish?”

“Yehehehes! Stahahap!”

“Nah, not yet~” Uenoyama said, way too eager to mess around with this new thing he’d figured out about his partner. He kissed Mafuyu’s neck again, Mafuyu now pushing at Uenoyama’s face in an attempt to keep him from kissing his neck, completely exposing his torso.

Uenoyama quickly took advantage of this, creeping his hands quickly up Mafuyu’s ribs and landing under his arms, drilling his fingers into the sensitive hollows as Mafuyu arched his back, shrieking. He toppled forward, arms clamped to his sides as laughter poured from his mouth like a waterfall, filling the small room with melodious sounds. Uenoyama blushed, he had never heard his shy, normally contained partner laugh like this.

It was nice. His laugh as smooth and beautiful to listen to, just like his singing. Uenoyama bit his lip as he continued to hold Mafuyu in place as he tickled him, his face heating up as he was flustered by Mafuyu’s gleeful laugh.

“Wahahait! U-Uenoyahahama! Please, no more! Not thehehere!”

“Not where? You mean right here? Does it tickle bad here~?” Uenoyama recomposed himself, teasing Mafuyu who nodded his head innocently, sending a love arrow right through Uenoyama’s heart. 

Mafuyu threw his head back when Uenoyama started to scribble his fingers along his upper ribs, dancing along and sending ticklish shockwaves throughout his whole body.

“No no nooo! Wahahahait! Hehehehe, not thehehere!”

“You’ve said that about pretty much every spot so far,” Uenoyama said, a small grin of amusement on his face. “What about here?”

He latched onto Mafuyu’s hips and gave them a firm squeeze, making him spasm and jump around in Uenoyama’s lap, cackling adorably.

“Not thehehehere! Reheheally!”

Uenoyama rolled his eyes playfully as he moved his hands to Mafuyu’s tummy, slipping them under his sweater as he positively shrieked. It was the loudest noise Uenoyama had ever heard Mafuyu make, and it was somewhere between a snort and a squeal.

“Did you just snort?”

Mafuyu shook his head, his face red from embarrassment as Uenoyama grinned.

“I think you did~”

He continued to skitter his fingers all over Mafuyu’s bare tummy, making him snort and squeak as he laughed loudly. He shook his head around, messing up his hair as he just laughed and laughed, his soft cackles eventually going silent.

He tried to slide out of Uenoyama’s grip, who quickly stopped after the sudden stop in Mafuyu’s previously loud laughter. Mafuyu continued to giggle softly as Uenoyama ruffled his hair affectionately.

“Want to get back to guitar practice now?”

“G-Give me… a minute,” Mafuyu panted, and Uenoyama immediately scribbled his fingers back up Mafuyu’s sides, making him squeal.

“Ohohokay! Okay, we’ll get back to practice!”

Uenoyama nodded and stood up from behind Mafuyu, who immediately collapsed backwards and wheezed dramatically. Uenoyama chuckled and handed him his guitar, which Mafuyu carelessly grabbed with one hand. Uenoyama didn’t let go of it until Mafuyu finally had a better grip on it, sitting up.

“Do you care more about the guitar than me?” Mafuyu asked, a teasy hint to his tone. Uenoyama flushed, turning his head.

“No…”

“Good,” Mafuyu said, a small grin on his face as he strummed his guitar a few times. Uenoyama sat down next to him and listened to Mafuyu, who hummed and played the guitar, slowly bringing the song's lyrics into the mix. Uenoyama sat there, listening to the melodies as he closed his eyes, smiling.

Mafuyu continued to play and sing, Uenoyama joining in at some point with his own guitar. They spent the rest of the night like that, just listening to their own tunes.

[cutegirlmayra]

Hello Mayra! Hope you're doing well, perhaps a prompt to make you feel better? This is canon adjacent but also kind of AUish. Weresonamy but it takes place in the Storybook world (you knows those games). Sonic is now the big bad wolf and Amy is little red riding hood. At first she's afraid of him which hurts Sonic but there's a bigger threat and he jumps into action protecting little red. So the werehog saves the day and earns little reds trust and he realizes how much important Amy's support is

<3 I could always feel better lol But I’m doing great, thanks for asking! :Db

Also, still not sure if Canon Adjacent means Semi-Canon..? Eh? -help please I’m old and I don’t read fanfiction anymore lolol-

PROMPTS ARE ON SHUTDOWN. You know the drill, don’t send any more prompts until they’re announced to be reopen again! :Db

My response and first impression of this prompt: Pajama Blogs - Prompt Requests Ep. 1 (x - 41:05)

Prompt:

I was told to immediately head to Miss Vanilla’s house with Cream and I’s cookies. I was holding her hand as the path grew dark and strange noises kept crushing the leaves that blew in the full moon night.

I heard grunting at different intervals, and as Cream clung close to me, I stroked her head but couldn’t find the strength inside myself to open my mouth and give her encouragement. Comfort... I greatly needed that too.

“M-Miss Riding Amy?”

She was a kind girl, Cream. A small rabbit, that any predator would make a gruesome snack out of. I was a traveling adventurer who just happened to be fortune telling when she asked me for this favor.

Her mother lived so far out into the enchanted woods... doesn’t she know the stories and rumors? Even in all my travels... I’ve never heard of a forest this dense with evil magic!

“What is it, Little Cream?” I asked, moving the basket from her arm and switching it to my other side, cradling her once burdened arm now tightly within my own.

Escorting was the easy part, but monsters were at the forefront of my worries.

“D-do you think mother is safe living so far from town?” She asked me.

‘How the heck would I know, kid?’ I made a sour face, but kept my slurring suspicions to myself. “She’s your mother, Cream.” I finished my thought out loud, even with the tone of my voice being rather foul. “Which means she’s got to be twice as strong and brave as you! Right?” I bounced her arm in mine, smiling down to her from my red hood with a white rim that coupled nicely with my dress. It was tied tightly around my neck and even looked good with my corset, something I had picked up along my travels. “Now then, stay close, and everything will be alright, okay?” I manipulated my voice to sound assured, the only comfort I had waited for my lips to speak seemed more for myself than anything else.

Still,... I wasn’t going to leave a helpless little bunny to the hands of these deadly forest.

I glared at them, as though warning them that at any wrong move, I’d hammer them!

We continued down the dark path before I couldn’t tell dirt from moss anymore, and the colors dulled into deep blues and blacks, the moonlight no longer helping from the shadow of the trees above...

“Hmm...” I frowned, trying to gauge by the wind if a storm was coming... I squinted my eyes through the cold and thought I saw a shadow turn and inch closer to a tree.

I took Cream’s hand tighter, “Let’s keep moving...” and continued my brisk steps towards where the compass pointed us too.

I didn’t see it till later... but scratch marks revealed the sign had been tampered with, and with the compass pointing north, but the sign saying that her Mother’s cabin was another way... I took the other path.

I shook the compass when it was clear we were walking on grass, with no more trodden down carriage routes, and then...

We heard the howl.

“Miss Riding Amy!” Cream jumped into an embrace at my waist, as I put an arm protectively to her back and looked around. I could hear soft, misty voices as creatures that looked like chameleons began to materialize as though invisible this whole time! Tracking us?! They crawled down the trees with hooks for feet, sharp bluish and purple bodies with horns, and their tongues flung out and wiggled themselves in front of us before they jumped to attack.

I summoned my hammer and threw Cream back behind me, and as my first powerful swing locked onto one of the nightly creatures, my hoodie flung off.

I also didn’t know... that a beast within the forest’s eyes dilated at seeing my face, who had secretly followed us in the hopes of guiding us back on the correct path... hidden this whole time as well, when he saw my face, he immediately disregarded his own reservations at staying out of sight, and used the cover of darkness to swing his massive fists, stretching far and wide, to make it look like my hammer throws were hitting them all.

I didn’t see through his illusion, instead, I thought I was whipping my hammer around so fast that the monsters couldn’t keep up, till one ducked and dodged both our tactics and walloped me right in the chin. I was flung back, with poor Cream’s basket getting thrown in the impact and landed with her cookies that we had spent so long making.

This quest was harder than I thought.

I scooted back on the ground as Cream cried out to me, but the monster tried to ready his tongue to lasso Cream, when an even larger beast finally sprung out into our sights, and began to throw a gorilla-like tantrum with his arms, banging the ground and causing it to shake.

He roared fiercely and grabbed the chameleon by it’s ankles, swinging him wildly as it looked like an unwanted carnival ride, round and round.

His fur shuffled in the wind as he finally released the foul terror and it slammed against a tree, twitching... before it’s misty hide disintegrated back into the forest’s magic power...

I quickly pulled myself up and gripped Cream in fright, but held my hammer out with harsh pants, still not fully quitting without a good struggle first.

The beast relaxed it’s shoulders... then slightly turned its head to us.

I continued to hold my hammer out, before shifting it behind my shoulder, ready to swing at any given notice.

He slowly reached his hand out, letting its true length be known and lifted it above my hammer as I swung to defend ourselves, but we were both surprised when he picked up the basket.

He then swiftly gathered up the cookies with precision in his claws and lengthy fingers, before withdrawing his arm back to it’s normal, monstrous-still size and presented it at our feet.

We were still both laying upon the ground, except my torso raised slightly, before he nodded and was about to walk away when we heard a woman’s voice shriek out in fright.

“Mother!” Cream called, looking behind me and taking off.

“Cream! Wait!” I didn’t even think about the basket, and took off after her. Dust in our wake, I suddenly looked back to see the blue, hairy monster carrying the basket in his mouth, and lowering his head, scooped me up and onto his back. “W-wo-AHH!!” I gripped his back like a baby monkey, just trying to not get jostled off as he raced on all fours with such velocity.

‘He doesn’t look to be hunting Cream.’ I surmised, and then for a moment, actually thought riding this beast was my calling... it was fun, it felt like I was meant to trust him... I only had this feeling when drawing tarot cards, and seeing the fortune of ‘Destined Love’ written upon it...

“I don’t know who you are-!” I immediately shouted out, positioning myself more comfortably upon his back as he dipped his head and was about to scoop up Cream to his back as well, “But let’s save this family!” before another even more frightening beast that looked like a phoenix swooped down and clamped its claws to her. “Ah!” I cried out in shock, it happening so fast.

“Oh no!” The burly voice of the monster had thrown the basket back up to me and I caught it instinctively, before seeing him reach out his hand to extend it again beyond normal means, and grab a branch.

Like a springboard, we were slingshotted to that branch as I let out another yelp of shock.

This... was surprisingly fun! If it didn’t mean my little friend and her mother were in danger.

“Can you go faster!?” I encouraged, and suddenly, the beast seemed to take offense to that.

“Hold on!” he called out, a harsh grumble in his voice he may have not meant to make, and immediately we began swinging and launching ourselves closer and closer to the flying bird creature, when I noticed another--adult--rabbit in it’s other talon.

“It’s got her mother!” I cried out, and his eyes seemed to bleed with the necessity to save them as well. 

“Do you trust a monster?” He asked, dropping to the ground after each failed jumped couldn’t get us close enough to reach them.

I held my hammer at the ready, looking to the strange beasts as though the term ‘monster’ didn’t suit how heroic he was being in trying to help us.

“N-no.” I stated, and he looked down a moment, as though disappointed. “I trust you.” I stated, boldly and point-blankly. “You’re willing to risk life and limb just for a couple of girls... I wouldn’t know a monster that noble, but I do know heroes that stalwart and true.”

His head rose and for the first time, I could see his full face. He looked touched by my words... before nodding with a narrowing of his eyes. “Alright then, Miss Rose Rider. Prepare to ride to wind!”

“W-what?”

He shot his arms out and pulled himself back, just like a slingshot position!

“Ho, boy!” I bit on my hammer and kept it between my teeth, realizing I needed to hold onto this ride with both hands....

He strained, before finally whiplashing us both into the air.

“Now, go!” He reached back to grip me, as best he could without injuring me with his brute strength, and threw me like an arrow across the night sky to the belly of the beast.

“HHHAAAAA!!!!” I slammed my hammer into it’s gut and had it coughing up a storm, dropping it’s prey as the woman and her child screamed upon their descent.

“Hero!” I called out, deciding never to use the term ‘beast’ or ‘monster’ again for such a kind soul.

The Hero seemed to understand I was addressing him, and threw out his arms to grab the girls and tucked them into his chest... falling down... Oh no...

“NOO!!” He was taking the plunge for them!

I wasn’t able to think about it long though, as the dark phoenix cried out and came for me, but I whammed it’s beak away from devouring me and grabbed a talon, using its body to take the hit for me on the ground while I remained safe at the underbelly of it’s feathers.

Spitting out said feathers, I then frantically backed tracked further into the forest, before seeing Vanilla and her daughter crouched over the Hero, tears of regret in their eyes.

“He... He took the fall for us. All of it.” Vanilla admitted, seeing that I was the one with Cream.

“Oh, Miss Riding Amy...” Cream wiped her tears, holding her mother’s hand and pulling themselves away from him. “He was the bravest, nicest wolf I’ve ever known!” She then pulled me into that said hug, but my eyes never left the body of the Hero.

His fur swiveled in the breeze... and the forest moaned as if losing something precious.

“N-...No...” My cards never predicted this... I moved the grieving girl and mother apart from me,... crawling to the Hero’s fallen form. “Please... I still want to... I still want to know you... I want to thank you...” My voice began to break, gripping his fur in my white gloves. “I didn’t even know your name...” I sobbed more than I ever thought I could have...

“I... I love you... Mr. Wolf, sir.” Cream began, “Thank you... for saving both me, my mother... and my friend.”

I shook my head, “You and I... we fought like a supersonic comet... that bird didn’t know what hit’em.”

Then...

While the sun began to rise... his form twitched and rumbled as though something was happening.

I pulled away only when a bright light flashed and yellow streams of golden ribbons flew around him.

He was lifted into the air and the golden streams wrapped around him before revealing a handsome--more beautiful hedgehog man than I’ve ever seen in all my life--slowly floating down to the ground before blinking his eyes open.

“Who...” he began, rubbing his head and shaking it as he got upright, spooking us all as we were jaw struck. “Who said my name..? And that they... could love a beast?”

We had a big party that night at Vanilla and Cream’s home. Cream explained her mother didn’t like her walking the path at night, due to the trickery of the forest dwelling monsters, but that she always knew a kind, mysterious figure protected her and her daughter every time they crossed.

On this particular day, Cream was attending the Chao Kindergarten in the village and had played so long with the Chao, had forgotten the time. Vanilla was so worried she went in search of Cream, finding the wolf and asking if he was the one that kept them safe all those many years they lived there.

He agreed to go on ahead before finding Riding Amy with Cream, and stalked them to make sure they got to safety, but was too afraid to reveal his cursed form.

The curse could only be broken by someone speaking his name after a declaration of admiration and love. 

“That’s... amazing.” I was still in awe at how handsome the young hedgehog man looked. I couldn’t take my eyes off of him, but when he looked at me, my heart raced and I had to look away, pulling up my hood so he couldn’t see my blushing cheeks. “You should-! Ehem.” I was getting too excited... “You should come with me on my travels. I’m sure you could do a lot of good now that you’re not so afraid of what others may think of you.” I explained.

Though, in my heart, no matter what box this beautiful man came in... he was still a hero... just... more dashing in this form!

He smiled to me, and I felt my soul withdraw into his arms at such a sunny-disposition.

“I’ve always wanted to see the world, so that sounds great! But...” He looked to Vanilla.

“We’ll be fine.” She patted his arm. “You’ve been watching over us all in the village for far too long, time we took precautions for ourselves!”

We both didn’t realize that the Chao were formidable fighters... and ended up joining with each villager to protect them come night time, where their little forms could judo slam any monster that tried to trick in the night!

Sonic and I... We... hehe!

Well... The cards are never wrong.

I was destined to ride alongside the spirit of the wind!

[shroomcult]

@soulxmakaweek

Soma week 2021 Day 2: Healing

All too young was Maka Albarn exposed to the bitter resentment of a crumbling marriage.

She never had to bear witness to domestic violence or explosive arguments between her parents. No glasses were thrown against walls, no doors were slammed, no vitriolic exchanges that ended in another charging out the door and speeding out of the driveway.

It had been slow, and cold - like watching frost spread on a windowpane until nothing could be made out from the other side. The days when her parents loved each other, smiled while in the other’s presence were nothing more than distant and dream-like memories.

“I love you” was only something a desperate and conniving man said to get the outcome he desired. Not that it was any use. Papa could throw that phrase around all day, and yet Mama walked out of their lives all the same. 

It also meant nothing when it came from her mother’s own mouth moments before she stepped out of the threshold of their front door for the final time. If her mother loved her, she would have taken her only daughter with her instead of leaving her with a blubbering fool.

Maka shook this thought out of her head. 

No. Mama does love me - of course she does. She just has important work to do, she’ll come back for me when she’s ready. When she’s healed.

A feminine giggle could be heard from down the hall - from her father’s room. It effectively tore her from her thoughts.

So she hadn’t been hearing things. He really had the audacity to sneak a woman into their house for a little sleep-over not more than a week after the separation. As if she wouldn’t notice.

Well, she hadn’t heard the woman come in late last night, but surely Spirit was aware that his daughter was always an early-riser. 

She stepped out of her room, passed the sinners' den that was her father’s bedroom and into the kitchen to sit at the table with her book - and wait.

She wanted to make this as difficult for him as possible. She wanted to see the intruder for herself, to look them both in the eyes.

It hadn’t taken long before the snakes slithered out. She heard the master bedroom door creak open as hushed voices filled the hall leading out to the living area. She could distinctly make out the sound of her father hushing his secret guest.

As soon as they appeared in the living room and in full view of the kitchen, Maka set her book down and cleared her throat purposefully.

Spirit’s face drained of all the light that had been present only moments before. He looked as though someone had aimed a gun at his skull and demanded his wallet, his hand quickly removed from the mystery woman’s hip like it had been burned.

“M-Maka! Oh, hello sweetheart … what are you doing up so early?” he forced a smile, but his eyes conveyed nothing but guilt.

“I was having trouble sleeping. With all the noise.”

If he hadn’t already looked ready to crawl into a ditch, he certainly did after that comment.

His bedtime companion let out an airy laugh of discomfort before quickly excusing herself from the house she hadn’t belonged in to begin with.

The sound of the front door closing behind her had been deafening in the remaining silence between father and daughter.

“Maka-” Spirit tried to begin, but he clamped his jaw shut when she shot up from her seat, the chair scraping severely on the tile behind her.

She leveled him with a stare that he was familiar with as she tried to emulate the sternness of her mother to the best of her ability. He withered under it.

“I hate you.”

He stammered uselessly, his eyes glassy as she turned on her heel and made her way out the house, slamming the door with all the force she could muster.

Her vision warped and blurred as she stomped through her neighborhood and made her way out to a main street. 

She soon broke into a sprint, lungs burning along with her eyes as her feet carried her away with little thought as to where she was going. Her throat squeezed tight, making breathing all the more difficult but her pace did not falter until she came to a full stop in front of her subconscious choice of destination. 

She stood before a familiar grouping of apartments with faded but colorful walls. She’d been here only a handful of times, just to kick Soul’s ass into gear when he wasn’t studying like he should be. For the most part, she had no need to visit his apartment because he met her at the academy. 

Why him of all people? Why is he the first person I wanted to see when I feel like this?

She liked Soul just fine. Trusted him in battle at the very least. 

But she wasn’t sure how much he really fit the description of friend. They stuck close together out of necessity. They didn’t exactly play nice with each other all the time - he was a difficult person to get close to, stubborn and distrustful. Perhaps she was too.

Even while her mind continued to question her reason for coming to him, her body moved of its own volition, feet taking her up the worn concrete steps to his door towards the end of the hall.

It wasn’t fair for her to show up here on a weekend and drag him out of bed to dump her problems on him, yet she pounded on his door like she had every right to anyway.

It took him quite a bit of time, but she heard someone growl “what the fuck” from behind the door before it swung open revealing her very irate weapon partner in pajamas with his already ridiculous hair in a nest of pure bedhead.

The hostility softened from his baggy eyes the moment he recognized the wetness on her cheeks.“What’s wrong?” he tried to ask only to get crushed into a hug seconds later.

She sobbed into his shoulder and clutched the back of his Nirvana shirt like her life depended on it. She was immediately embarrassed by her behavior, but she had trouble closing the floodgates at such a point of mental volatility and decided she’d much rather bury her face against him than meet his concerned gaze. 

It took a few moments, but his body finally relaxed and he rested his hands timidly on her shoulder blades, letting one of his thumbs rub circles in an awkward attempt to soothe her.

She was almost caught by surprise when his uncertain contact tightened into almost a protective grip, and he allowed his entire palms to smooth over her back.

“Here, get inside,” he murmured against her ear, slowly releasing her and guiding her by the arm into the safety of his living room.

He only motioned for her to sit down on the couch before trudging to the kitchen to rustle around in his cupboards.

She felt a twinge of gratefulness for the opportunity to clear her face and steady her breathing as she listened to the sound of him starting up the microwave. She wasn’t some baby to be coddled after all. 

She didn’t get much time to compose herself before he was making his way back to her, a small saucer with a cup of hot tea rattling in his hand.

He set it down on the coffee table in front of her and took a seat on the couch beside her. He sat quite a few inches away, but reached out to pat her arm for a moment. Ah, back to awkward. 

“Uh - Tea’s for you. Chamomile, is that fine?” 

She nodded, carefully taking the mug from its place and bringing it to her lips, allowing the steam to settle into her face and relax her for a moment. 

He didn’t say anything else, just nodded and hunched his shoulders forward to rest his elbows on his knees as he stared in front of him at nothing in particular.

Either he wasn’t in the mood to play therapist and prod her for information or he was trying to respect her boundaries. Maybe it was a combination of both.

She found her voice after a few more sips of tea, offering him a vague complaint.

“I can’t stand to be around him anymore.”

She could feel that he was staring straight at her side profile, but she couldn’t meet the boy’s unnerving red eyes for the moment.

She fiddled with the cup in front of her instead, gathering her thoughts as his eyes patiently drilled through her peripheral.

“He just repeats the same dumb mistakes. Over and over again. How can someone be so stupid?” she spat, thinking of a hundred crueler words that could describe her father even better than stupid could.

Soul looked away for a moment, scratching the back of his head.

“He is pretty stupid, I’m not gonna argue that. I think I’d rather say that he’s selfish and optimistic though. He knows what he does is fucked. He knows, and he still does it because he hangs on to the hope that maybe he won’t face the consequences.”

“Well, he’s faced plenty of consequences! My mother is gone, he’s going to have a divorce, and I hate him! How is that not a consequence to him?!” she cried out, placing her mug down with enough force to send droplets of tea around the table.

Soul seemed unfazed by her rough treatment of his personal belongings, shrugging half-heartedly. “Again, not saying he isn’t a complete idiot. Just saying there’s more layers to it. Call him what he is - a bastard. Shouldn’t blame it all on stupidity, that’s lettin’ him off easy.”

“Yeah, I guess,” she said with a heavy sigh, already feeling most of the fight leave her. “I understand why Mama left. Yet, her decision still hurts so much, Soul. Did she not think about me at all?”

His lips set into a tight line and he was wringing his hands out in a clear sign of discomfort. Had she broached a weird subject with him? Did he have issues with his own parents like this?

It occurred to her that she honestly didn’t have a single clue about her partner’s personal life prior to joining the DWMA. Did that make her a bad partner?

“I don’t know,” he answered quietly towards the floor, “It’s normal to hurt from something like that. I’d like to tell you that she won’t stay away for long, but I don’t really know that, Maka. I’m sorry.”

“I know -  I’m not expecting you to have answers. It just helps that you’re listening, I guess. So, thanks for that,” she tried to force a smile, but Soul was entirely unconvinced of it, only offering a sympathetic quirk of his lips in return. Still, she continued, “There’s some messed up part of me that wishes they could have just stayed together. That somehow things could go back to the way they were when I was younger, like none of this ever happened.”

He was staring at the floor again, but quickly met her eyes with a dull, haunting sadness that seemed beyond his years.

“It’s better that they split. Nothing good comes from forcing it just to keep up an image, trust me.”

The way his voice trembled like his throat was closing up encouraged Maka to change the subject.

“I don’t want to go back there,” she whispered, drawing her knees up to her chest as she felt that familiar, unwelcome heat gather behind her eyes again.

“Then don’t. You know I’ve got the extra bedroom. It’s pretty normal for partners to live together, ya know.”

Her eyebrows jumped to her hairline at this suggestion. “Like, I can just move in here? with you?”

“I mean, yeah. Why not?”

She couldn’t really come up with many downsides when she truly thought about it. It’d be helpful to have her weapon partner close by. There was the possibility that they could drive each other crazy enough to completely ruin their already hard-earned resonance.

And yet - that wasn’t a very good excuse. What kind of flimsy excuse of partners would they be if they couldn’t maintain decent resonance rates just from spending more time together?

They were stronger than that. This could work.

Another thought tugged at her heart. “I would be leaving behind my family.”

“We could be our own family,” he asserted with confidence, but it wavered when he saw the way she looked at him - like he had suggested something romantic between them. His cheeks and the tips of his ears lit up pink and he immediately backpedaled, “Uh- like, partners? Right? We have each others’ backs … like a family,” he trailed off, scratching his cheek and looking anywhere but at her face.

For all his snark and stoicism she realized he was rather shy. It was kind of cute. What the hell did I just think?! She attempted to compensate for her own internal embarrassment by bumping his shoulder roughly with her own.

“Okay. sounds good, partner. So what’s the plan for the rest of the day? And don’t tell me you’re just going to sit around and watch TV.”

“Nothin’ wrong with that. It’s Saturday, for fuck’s sake.”

“No, that isn’t engaging enough,” she said, flicking his cheek and earning herself a scowl in response.

“Fine. I have an idea for a therapeutic activity,” he said as he got up and crouched down beside the cabinet under the TV, pulling out two game remotes.

Maka was already shaking her head in disapproval.

“C’mon bookworm. Play me in Mortal Kombat. You can pull my spine out - it’s fun and the violence will make you feel better, promise.”

“I’m not playing some brain-rotting, man fantasy, thank you very much.”

He ignored her entirely and began working on hooking up his console.

“Just pretend you’re fighting your old man,” he suggested over his shoulder.

She smiled despite herself and placed a light kick against his back from her spot on the couch. “Fine, but you have to come with me to Papa’s place later today to help me get my stuff.”

“Yeah, sure thing. How much you wanna bet I could make him cry?”

In that moment, she came to the conclusion that she had chosen a good family. 

She was going to be okay.

[swift--fox]

Maybe Death Does Know a Thing or Two... And Dean

Part twwwwwooooo!!! to this fic right here! With the help of @pissbabydean, we got through it somehow! Thanks babe. ily!

Also @wordstrings thank you for this prompt idea! I was going to tage you in the last one and then I was stupid.

~~~

Dean’s a whore. Cas provides. And is also an asshole. Sam hates them both.

~~~

“So, Dean? What’s it going to be?” Cas asked, silky smooth next to Dean’s ear.

“I-I...” Dean tried, but nothing came out. He was still stiff as a board, eyes trained on the door. It looked so appealing, but the burning on his back from where the fingers were laid kept him from moving towards it.

After a long thirty seconds that felt more like eons to Dean, he felt maybe actions were easier than words right now. He allowed his arms to relax, and he moved them away from his sides. Ever so slightly, and only a couple of inches. He could feel his hands shaking.

“Is that your answer?” Cas asked, teasingly. His voice ran deeper than normal, causing Dean to have to fight the urge to scrunch his neck up to his ears.

He gave a weak nod, eyes still trained on the door. His arms reeled back into place, glued to his sides, as soon as Cas’s whirred to life. They gently scratched at the hollows of his ribs, hitting every pocket of nerves they could in the soft flesh between bone.

Dean was already laughing. The vulnerability he became subject to in their previous conversation heightened his senses. He leaned back into Cas, trying to use him for stability. Cas stepped back, gently helping Dean to the floor, never stopping the onslaught to his sensitive sides.

Once Dean was laying flat on his back, Cas stopped in order to swivel himself around, landing on Dean’s lap. The door was no longer an option he thought, as he stared up into the angels eyes. They held the look of mischief, and sadism. Two looks Dean had never seen cross the other man's features before now. Both that would have terrified him in any other situation. But here, now, all he felt was a nervous excitement.

Cas placed his hands on Dean’s sides again, just holding them there. He felt the stomach under him tense and suck in, while the hunter squirmed lightly under his hold. He didn’t move, though - not yet. He wanted Dean to stew before he attacked.

Dean’s eyes went wide as he felt nimble fingers reach for his sides, already squirming. When the fingers didn’t move though, he felt himself involuntarily sucking in his stomach, a feeble attempt at averting the soon-coming onslaught. When the fingers still did not move, he screwed his eyes shut. The tension began to build to an almost intolerable level.

That’s all Cas needed to finally dig in. His fingers squeezed the sensitive flanks twice, before deliberately wiggling into the soft flesh. He revelled in the gasp and the loud, bright laughter it brought out of his hunter. He felt frantic hands grappling at his forearms. His angelic strength kept them from having much effect, though he could tell there was no real strength behind them. More instinct than anything else.

Dean’s eyes flew wide at the first pinch, his arms immediately squeezed to his sides at the second. His hands flew to grab at Cas’s hands, more to ground himself rather than push him away. Once Cas started kneading, he screamed from the built up anticipation and release. He writhed and bucked under the grinning angel, his laughter taking on different pitches and qualities as Cas migrated from spot to spot - these reactions were duly noted in the back of his mind. 

“Cas! Cahahahas! Wahahait!” Dean screeched, the first words he’d spoken since wanting to run for the door.

He was in the middle of an admittedly cruel assault of his underarms, though Cas noted Dean still wasn’t putting up much of a fight - certainly not what the hunter was capable of (in fact, he was almost sure Dean had loosened his arms so he could get to the protected skin)- when he realised how loud the hunter had started to become. He uncurled his fingers from where they were digging into the soft flesh and trailed them down his sides, feather-light, to rest at his waistband. Dean’s laughter had tapered off into almost-giggly breathing while he tried to catch his breath.

“Dean, if you continue screaming like that, Sam is bound to hear you.” Cas smirked down, meeting the hunter’s gaze.

Dean bristled and glowered up at the smug angel.

“I was not screaming,” He huffed, an insult sitting on the tip of his tongue. It never made its way out though, as Cas’s fingers decided that was the best time to dip into his waistband. He clamped his arms down and frantically batted at the intruding digits.

“Play nice, or I’ll give you a reason to scream,” He tutted, “I built you up from nothing, I know exactly how to tear you back down.”

A jolt of anxiety laced excitement ran down Dean’s spine and he sucked in a sharp breath with a hiss as he curled his toes. 

“I’ve been to hell and back. I can handle you,” He challenged, hiding his nerves behind an easy smirk.

“You are very confident for a man in your current position-” Castiel dipped down to right beside Dean’s ear, fingers wiggling to life, gently playing with the skin right above his waistband. “Maybe we should find out how long that confidence will last.”

Dean’s breath hitched, and shut his eyes. Before his brain could comprehend what his mouth was saying, he blurted, “Bring it.”

“Of course. But remember; keep it down. You scream, and I stop. You don’t want that, do you?”

Dean swallowed and didn’t reply, words failing him as he surveyed the predatory and calculating look on the other man. But, actions did speak louder than words, didn’t they? 

He stuck out his tongue. 

Castiel, the winged sadistic bastard, drilled right into his hips. 

His thumbs massaged, rubbed, vibrated along the hypersensitive ridges of bone while his fingers fluttered and scritched at his sides. Dean’s mouth fell open in what was going to be a scream until Cas leaned down and licked a stripe up his neck. The unprecedented and ticklish sensation ended up tangling his tortured scream with a choked snort and he just ended up coughing.

He was a little more prepared to fight against the urge to just screech until his vocal chords tapped out, but it didn’t stop choked laughter from spilling out between his lips. As hard as he tried to keep himself under control, there was only so much he could stop from bubbling to the surface. With his smile wide, he could only pull his lips back in a scowl for a few seconds. But it was long enough for Cas to notice the strangled surprise flash across his features.

“You look surprised, Dean. Did you think I was bluffing?” He teased, skating his hand over to spider at the center of his abdomen - the soft spot just under his ribs that made him toss his head back and tumble into full-belly laughter that he was having a hard time stifling. 

“You’re being very inconsiderate to Sam. All this laughing is surely going to disturb him, I thought I told you to keep quiet.” 

“Screhehehew off!” Dean rebutted and a few particularly bright giggles slipped out. Cas was almost sad he was making Dean hold them and their brethren in. 

Oh well - another time, then.

And, yeah, he had a feeling there was going to be a next time - if the reactions, no matter how held back and muted, were anything to go by. Dean was just covering his face with his hands, attempting to stuff his fist in his mouth while his eyes were pricked with tears of mirth. 

He looked beautiful, not particularly more so than usual, just...different. Lighter. It was the kind of beauty that left you feeling like some of it rubbed off on you. Castiel decided he liked Dean like this more than he thought he did. The hunter never failed to surprise him.

He was brought out of his thoughts when he started hearing wheezing. He lightened his fingers, drawing light circles around his sides, waiting for Dean’s laughter to taper off. Once his held-back cackles died out into heavy breaths mixed with light happy giggles, he allowed his sadist mask to fall for a moment.

“Are you doing okay? Do you need me to stop?” He asked.

Dean shook his head, “I juhuhust need to cahatch my breath,” he scrubbed  a hand down his face, wiping the small line of sweat that accumulated above his brow.

The angel nodded, before pressing a hand to Dean’s chest, while he kept the other at his side, still tracing teasing circles. A wave of grace entered his lungs, filling them up with air and removing the residing ache. “Better?”

Dean’s eyes widened slightly. He forgot about angel mojo. But as he took a few breaths, he nodded, feeling rejuvenated.

“Good, because I’m not finished with you yet.” Cas’s sadistic smirk reappeared.

Deans nervous giggles returned before they jumped back to mirth filled laughter. There was skittering along his inner thighs, but he could feel Cas’s one hand on his chest and the other still teasing at his side.

“C-Cahahahas, what eheheheis thahahat?” He tried kicking his legs out, but the sensation never relented.

“Giving you your strength back made me realize, I have been neglecting to use the best way to torture you. My grace.” Cas said matter of factly.

“Th-that ihihis so unfahahahair Ah- Cas, nohoho!” Dean clapped a hand over his mouth trying to stifle his laughter, as he felt the invisible force rise up, forcing its way into every groove of his hips. 

He felt it scrape along the edges of bone, and vibrate into the dips where his abdomen met leg. He could almost feel it under his skin and even in his bones.  In a feeble attempt to muffle the screaming cackles that were being forced from his throat, he grabbed whatever was closest to him- which just so happened to be Castiel’s trench coat covered arm, still lazily resting on his chest- and stuffed it into his mouth. He bit down, thankfully on just fabric, and screamed into his angels forearm.

Dean lasted a total of 37 seconds before succumbing to silent laughter. Cas continued the onslaught on his hips for a few more, before finally moving his grace up his sides, and rolled off the hunter. He curled around himself, giggling like a mad man.

As the grace slowly subsided from Deans waist, so did his laughter, until the only sound filling the room was his panting. Once his breathing calmed, Cas stood up, offering a hand to help the other onto wobbly legs and walking him to the library couch. 

Once close enough to the cushions, he let his body tumble, laying on his back, eyes closed. He threw an arm over his head, a small smile still noticeable. Cas took a moment to take in the sight. He was in awe. He didn’t recognise the Dean Winchester splayed out in front of him. The angry, pissed off, World on his shoulders hunter had been replaced with a soft, happy, free human being. They still had another apocalypse to derail, that they knew nothing about yet. But it would still be there tomorrow.

Cas grabbed the lore book he was reading before Dean had walked in, and lifted the tired man’s head, sneaking himself underneath. They stayed like that the rest of the day, Cas’s hands tethered in his hunters hair while Dean took a well deserved break from the fight.

~~~

Four years and three apocalypses later, when Chuck became the most recent bad guy in a long list of bad guys, and brought up Death’s previous pastimes, Dean and Cas shared a look. A knowing look. A shared inside joke between the two of them. Perhaps Chuck brought it up to let them know he knew. Or maybe he didn’t know, and was just bantering about Billie.

Either way, if it weren’t for Death, Dean and Cas would have never gotten together. Maybe he really did know what the hell he was talking about all those years ago.

And as for Sam, well. Dean never really was as quiet as he thought. Sam just learned when to leave the bunker before being subject to listening to them again.

[sweater-daddiesdumbdork]

in ur ABO universe do omegas get periods, like maybe they only last 2 days before heat or ? If they do then could u do one where she gets a stain while they’re both sleeping and he comforts her, if they don’t have periods then that’s completely fine, your not obligated to do anything ❤️

So... Its a bit long and I got carried away cause well I really loved this ask. I had to write it on phone, so all errors are my own. Warnings- smut, talk of past abuse.

Word Count- 1.5k

You didn't even think about it when you woke up with tingles lacing through your body. Nothing alarming, just a need. You needed to feel your Alpha spread you open and fill you, his hands holding your down and those growls of his making demands. 

You should have thought about what it meant to be that horny, but you couldn't. Your Wolf whined at your lust, and you pressed in against Steve's side, your body, hot, seeking. He woke to you biting on his shoulder and smirking with a tease next to him. 

His eyes flashed in recognition and he pulled himself up to hover over you, cage you in against the bed. "Wound up Little One?" 

"Maybe? Maybe I just want to feel you." You rolled a bit to touch him but he grasped your hip instead, flipping you till your ass arched into the air, your face pressed into your pillow. Steve knelt behind you, looking while giving admiring strokes of his fingers between glistening folds. 

"Your drenched Little One, absolutely soaked." Giving the slightest tap against your clit, you bit the pillow and pressed your face into it to keep from yelping at the feeling. Arousal starting to run down your inside thigh, making Steve ache in his own need. 

His hand grasped around his shaft, slick with you, a couple pumps to coat himself before he pressed at your entrance. "Oh shit" he groaned as he sunk into your core, bottoming out with a dirty grind of hips sure to make you howl into the pillow and clamp around his cock. 

"I got you." Steve growled while grasping your hips and rocking you forward till he almost pulled out. Another hard thrust, angled just right had you nodding while hissing "right there Steve, harder right there." And he drilled that spot that might have made you embarrassingly wet around his cock, but your mind was in a scramble. Not thinking, just reacting. You just dug your fingers in those crisp white sheets and held on. 

The room filled with slapping hips against a plump ass from the way your back arched, Steve caging you in against the mattress that muffled your cries for more while he pinned your shoulder down with a hard bite and urgent growls against your ear. 

"Going to Fuck you stupid Little One, a mess in my bed" 

It was all you could ask for, and you withered into the mattress, thick cock splitting you open till you were crying. "Alpha! Please I want to cum, please"

Hearing your needing cries he splayed a hand against your clenched belly to hold you from collapsing, and his other found that little bud between your thighs, rubbing vigorously to make you spasm. "Oh! Alpha, Fuck. I'm gonna-" you twisted and wriggled underneath him, it felt so good, you couldnt help yourself.

"Do it, your Alpha demands it. Cum all over my cock, so pretty when you do Little One." He growled while a lap of tongue against your neck marked you with his scent. You started arching while locking around him, squeezing and milking for his seed, a soundless cry finally found a voice and it was his name you were screaming. 

Steve wasn't far behind you. "Fuck, oh Fuck, shit…" his hips slamming into you until he spilled, his knot swelling and locking inside of you while he slouched to his elbows, panting against your shoulder. 

"Alpha?" You said softly and he groaned in answer, tightening his arm around your stomach and rolled you two enough to get comfortable until he softened. You yawned and pressed your back against his chest, looking up at him, nuzzling your nose under his chin covered in that reddish tinged beard. "Goodnight." 

"Wake me up again if you need to." Steve chuckled against your hair while dropping a kiss to your temple. Now you were full and sated, it was easy to fall asleep. 

That next morning found you stretched on your stomach, warmth all over, you sensed Steve next to you, still sound asleep, and arm settled over his eyes to block out the light. 

You shifted to get up and felt the stickiness coating between your thighs. You paid it no mind, thinking it was just from last night. A shower would clean you right up. Untill you caught the rich iron scent. No! shit! You leaped up and there it was. A red damning stain on the white sheets, one you wouldn't be able to hide from Steve. Panic and some embarrassment start to creep up your neck as you try to think of what to do. 

<Calm down y/n, we can fix this. Steve won't be mad.>

They always disciplined us before if we ruined stuff. 

<Steve isn't Pierce.>

No, but what if it bothers him? You questioned irrationally, rushing into the bathroom to wash yourself, willing the water to warm. Maybe I can scrub it out. 

<Y/N! Would you stop please?> the Little Wolf pleaded, but you were stepping into the hot water, almost too hot and started scrubbing at your skin, feeling like you were dirty, Steve would find you dirty. 

Steve woke to hear the shower cranked and figured you were just getting ready for the day. Before his eyes slid closed, he shifted the blankets and found the stain. At first he was worried he might have hurt you, but then he caught the scent that you were close to your heat. 

<Must be why she's in the shower> 

Will just change the bedsheets and go check on her. Steve responded as his Wolf settled back into sleep. Quickly he had stripped the bed, and found darker sheets to put on, not worried about the incident. Or realizing you were in the midst of panic while in the shower. Knocking on the door, he was hit with a facefull of steam, and could see you on the other side of the curtain scrubbing under the spray. 

He was about to close the door for you when he heard a whimper above the water and he turned back. "Y/N? Little One?" No answer and he went to pull back the curtain to see you bright red from the water, and you went to turn it off, confused as to why you seemed upset. 

"I'm sorry Steve… I'm really sorry, please dont be mad." 

"Mad?!" He said with surprise and picked up a nearby towel, holding it open so you could step into it. "Baby, why would I be mad?" 

Hesitating, you stepped forward and Steve was careful to wrap it around you. When you grabbed the edges to hide yourself, he cupped your face, studying you a second. 

<She's scared.> the Wolf rumbled with unease, wanting to reassure you.

I can smell it… Steve agreed, and was careful to scoop you up, carrying you into the cooler bedroom.

"You're not mad I ruined the sheet?" 

Settling in a chair in the corner of the room, Steve situated you in his lap, his hand stroking along your bare thigh the towel didn't cover and his arm wrapped around your back for support. 

"I can just wash it Little One, I don't care there's a bit of blood on it." He said with confusion. His hand heavy as he rubbed along your leg, trying to ease your tension. He tilted his head and let his mouth brush along your neck, breathing in against the curve. You were still tense in his hold, and moving his hand, he gently grasped your chin to tilt towards him. "Why would you think I would be upset?" 

You couldn't look away, when he held you in his hold to face him like this, your instincts were to stay put, give him what he wants. The words bubbled up to answer. "Pierce and the others would punish us if we ruined something like that." You were quiet a moment before adding. "It won't happen again, I swear it." 

Steve's eyes widened as he realized you expected this from him, thought it was normal for partners to be disgusted and upset. 

Oh Little One no… Steve thought and his Wolf snarled in anger at what Pierce had done to make you fear him. 

"Never, ever would you make me angry, it's natural Little One. The sheet is nothing but a thing, and I will replace them every time if it bothers you to see a stain after it's washed." His forehead leaned against yours. 

Your eyes searched his for any sign of anger, but they were crystal clear and bright. There was no displeasure darkening them. You wrinkled your nose and gave a small apologetic smile and he pressed his lips to yours, nipping at them gently. "You wanna get dressed and I will take you off the mountain, into town? You can get supplies you need and we can have a morning out exploring?" When you nodded, he tapped your thigh gently to have you stand and get dressed. 

He wasn't mad!

< Of course not. He cares for you, he isn't going to be bothered by something that happens every month.> 

Steve was getting ready to take his own shower when you leaned against the door frame. It occurred to you how fucking lucky you were to have such a patient Alpha. "It really doesnt bother you?" 

Pausing a moment, he gave a shake of his head. "What kind of Wolf would I be if blood bothered me? Fuck its like a trigger. Knowing your close to heat again." He gave a smirking growl as he stepped in the shower, wriggling his brows at you while closing the curtain. You couldnt help but laugh at his suggestive teasing. 

"You are an animal." 

"Got that right Little One." He shot back while turning on the water. "Always will be." 

[kashimos-hajime]

cookies and rings and things | b.b.

summary: “What do you want for Christmas?” “I’ve got everything I want right here.”

WARNINGS: swearing, but it’s all soft, cute and just love!!! lots of love :) pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader word count: 8.3k 

a/n: written for @sunmoonandbucky for no particular reason other than i saw that she needed fluff and i was more than happy to provide. make sure y’all show her some love bc she just ACED AN AUDITION and literally,, i love her,,, so much,,, NOW HAS A SEQUEL TITLED: POSITIVELY PERFECT

“How much do you love me?” she asks, winter gleaming on her bare skin and firelight playing in her eyes. It’s Boxing Day of 2024, the first truly normal one after the Blip, and Bucky watches as snow falls like feathersoft stars outside his window at the compound.

“Count the snowflakes, multiply by a million.”

“Big number,” she muses and he can feel her nails scratch at his waist lightly as her socked feet nudge against his. He wonders what kinda insane person wears socks without any clothes on, but then decides that it’s the kind of person who’s fallen in love with him.

“Well, I love you more than that,” he replies. She wrinkles her nose and snuggles in tighter against him. The fur lining of those ridiculous reading socks tickle the inside of his calf as she curls against him and he doesn’t think he should be able to love a girl this much. Then, he can feel the cold metal of the ring she slid onto her own finger less than twenty-four hours ago and realizes that he had thought a lot of things shouldn’t be possible, and yet they still are.

“Dork,” she murmurs against his neck.

“Lover,” he replies against her ear.

.

Bucky doesn’t mean to notice her. He’s running laps around the newly rebuilt compound, she has a whistle in her mouth as she shouts drills around the metal thing. Sharp cracks of ‘Pick up the pace!’ and ‘Move it, kids!’ nip at his ears when he runs by and Sam says something about how he’s getting distracted. He hadn’t realized at all.

“Who’s she?” he asks, wiping the sweat from his brow. He’s just finished five laps and he stands on the inner edge of the track, watching as recruits run past. A towel is slung over his shoulder and Sam skids to a stop in front of him, stepping in beside the soldier. The rookies’ shirts are soaked and they pant as they whip past, but none dare to slow down when she stands waiting just a few metres away.

“New trainer.” Sam’s got a glint in his eye Bucky thinks he knows when he says her name. He’s just getting to know the guy but he’s a pretty easy book to read anyway. “Heard she’s a hard ass on the newbies but it’s ‘cause she has a rep.”

“Then they’re getting what they signed up for,” he says shortly. Despite the cool autumn breeze brushing against the thick heat of his neck, his heart burns into his chest as he heaves another breath. 

“Alright, walk it off. We meet by the pool in fifteen.” She catches their attention again, and Bucky notices she’s wearing a half-zipped up windbreaker and joggers, and nothing underneath. Not that he intends to notice. Her hair is tied up back, and he kinda can’t help but look at her neck and her collarbones and, oh, no, he’s looking at her black sports bra—

“Dude.” He blinks at Sam’s amused snap. “You’re staring.”

“Shut up.” Bucky’s voice roughens up as his cheeks begin to flash red and he hides his face in his towel when Sam nudges him with a sweaty elbow. 

“She’s cute. I can get you her number,” Sam says but Bucky lets out such a strangled sound that both Sam and the cute trainer look at him. 

If it were possible, Bucky’s skin would melt off.

“Hey,” Sam calls her over by a name Bucky can barely hear because he’s too busy staring at his feet and wishing the ground would swallow him up. “You’re the new trainer, aren’t you?”

“Yeah.” Her voice is so much softer than before. Guess it’s like that when you’re not yelling at recruits and talking to Avengers. Bucky raises his head, absently running a hand through the few strands of hair that’ve fallen from his ponytail. “You’re Sam, right? I feel like we’ve met before.” She cocks her eyebrow and tilts her head. “Did you use to live in Washington?”

“Yeah, I did.” Sam’s smile pinches his cheeks and Bucky’s lips press together in a displeased frown when a grin flickers across her face. “Did you work in the VA? ‘Cause you’re starting to look familiar.”

“Yeah.” When she smiles, it morphs her face into something startling warm and lovely. Bucky dips his head low, trying to act like he’s not really part of the conversation—a mere bystander—because if he looks at her for too long, he knows it’s just too intense to be anything but creepy. “I think we used to bump into each other at the gym. I was a physical therapist at the office, and—”

“You made cookies any chance you got, I remember now!” Sam exclaims and she laughs loudly. “You always made my vets’ day when your cookies came in, so thank you.”

“Yeah, well, I’m here now. It’s funny how life works.” She shrugs and Bucky can feel her gaze land on him. “Hi, I don’t think we’ve met.” Her name slips off her tongue like poetry and Bucky, midway through a swipe of sweat down his neck, looks at her with narrowed eyes. He doesn’t mean to glare, but he’s caught so off-guard by the sudden change in direction of their conversation that he isn’t even a part of that his face reverts to something less than friendly.

“Bucky,” he says stiffly, although he doesn’t know why she doesn’t know the names of every Avenger. She probably does and is just being polite, a stern voice in Bucky’s head reprimands and he can feel Sam almost sigh in disappointment. “It’s nice to meet you.”

“It’s nice to meet you, too. You haven’t tried my cookies yet, so I haven’t proven my worth but I promise they’ll change your life,” she says, completely unphased. Bucky guesses she’s more than used to grumpy guys. “Fall equinox is tomorrow, so wait just a tiny bit longer?”

“Uh, yeah, sure.” Bucky doesn’t understand the question at the end of her sentence but she seems satisfied with his answer as she shoves her hands into the pockets of her windbreaker. “You probably have to get back to work,” he adds lamely and she turns to look at the compound. The autumn breeze curls hair against her cheek and Bucky bites his lip to resist the urge.

“I’m free later tonight,” she says, eyes squinting a bit when she turns back to Bucky and Sam clears his throat when Bucky himself doesn’t say a word. It’s like he’s drowning in her eyes. There’s something so effortlessly patient and warm in her gaze that Bucky can’t help but just… rest. It’s almost as if he can rest in her presence.

“So is Barnes.”

“What?” He snaps back to reality harshly, as usual. “We’re supposed to—“

“Actually, I can handle it on my own. She, however—” At this, Sam gestures wildly to the trainer who stands there, the beginnings of an amused grin growing on her face—“needs help with cookies.”

“I can’t,” he croaks after a minute of stuttering, and he simply clamps his mouth shut, averting his eyes. She’s too pretty for him. 

“I mean, company is always welcome,” she says, but he shakes his head.

“I’ll just get in your way and I don’t wanna mess up your cookies.”

“You can’t mess them up. I always think of something and it always works out.” She reaches over to take hold of his flesh arm and despite the coolness of the day when they’re not running their lungs out, her hand burns against his skin. She gently squeezes his elbow. “Don’t worry so much, okay? I’ll be in the kitchen after dinner in the mess.” 

She lets go too soon and slips her hand back into her pocket as Bucky opens his mouth to reply. 

“I’ve got to go to the pool,” she says, jerking her head towards the compound. Her eyes flicker to Sam whose grin nearly splits his face. “Bye, Sam. It was nice seeing you again, although I suppose we’ll be seeing a lot more of each other now.”

“Big building,” he says with a shrug. “Who knows?” She chuckles lightly, and then her gaze slides to Bucky.

Her eyes just seem to find his so calmly. It’s magnetic, and if he believed in love at first sight, this would be it.

“See you later, Sergeant.” She magpie salutes and he can’t help but mimic like a monkey, a lazy swipe of his finger from his brow. It’s so relaxed, so slow and he’s slouched on one hip, his metal hand on his towel, that he thinks he’s never felt so light. It’s almost routine—he could get used to this.

Man, it’s so easy with her. 

Her smile brightens remarkably and she heads back to the compound with a little spring in her step.

Sam waits until she’s inside before grabbing Bucky by the neck and giving him a noogie.

.

“You gotta dress up nice, man,” Sam advises like he’s on the same level as Tan from Queer Eye. Bucky stares at his reflection in the floor-length mirror and frowns in response. 

“We’re baking, not going to a gala.” Maybe I should take her to one. Get invited to enough of them as it is, a part of him muses, but he quickly chases that thought of his head. “Besides, she just saw us earlier today sweating like dogs so I don’t really think she’ll care if I show up in a t-shirt and shorts.”

“But this is your first date, man. You gotta dress to impress.” Sam shuffles through Bucky’s closet whilst its owner gapes at him.

“It’s not a date.”

“Yeah, and I’m not Captain America.”

“Shut up, Sam.” Bucky catches the pair of dark washed jeans and a cozy little sweater Wanda said would be cute on him. Glancing at his reflection in the mirror, he sighs. The warm white and the dark blue are so not his style. His style is black in different shades and fabrics and he is going to kill Sam. “This? I’ll look like—”

“Husband material. You’ll look like a straight up husband. She will cuff you on the spot,” Sam declares much to Bucky’s annoyance. “Are you gonna wear the photostatic veil Banner programmed for you?” He glances over to see Sam holding the mesh of tech, and he frowns thoughtfully.

“Should I?” He hasn’t had the opportunity to try it on, and although he knows everyone is used to his metal arm… He sighs. This is way more complicated than the forties. “Yeah. Good impression, right?” he says lamely and Sam claps him on the back, helping him seal it to his metal arm. As the nano-sized cells connect to the metal plates, a fleshy color blooms from the shoulder down and he feels like silk brushes against the tiny fibers of his arm. He can feel every single little cell, buzzing in a way that’s barely even noticeable. Bucky hopes that when he doesn’t focus on it, it’ll fade into the back of his mind.

“Atta boy. Come on. We’ve got dinner and then it’s time for your date! Wanda made paprikash.”

“Great,” Bucky intones dully, nerves biting at his stomach. He has no appetite for this. “I love paprikash.”

“We don’t sulk on first dates, Barnes.”

“It’s not a fucking date!”

.

After a dinner full of questions from Dr. Banner on how the photostatic veil was feeling and from everyone else on why, Bucky volunteers to do the dishes and clean up to make sure everything is spotless for when she comes in. Despite confusion among the rest of his colleagues, Sam assures them that ‘this is the plan, guys. Barnes’s got a hot date coming over.’ 

This, of course, only results in Bucky threatening to throw a skillet at him.

He wipes down the countertops, cleans the sink, and reorganizes the fridge while he waits for her, and he absently wonders what kind of cookies she intends to make. Chocolate chip, jam, sugar, shortbread…

Ingredients! His eyes widen and he turns to look at the dark pantries in slight horror. I should probably get them out for her. And measuring spoons, that’s what she needs, right? His stomach is in knots as he runs around the kitchen island, trying to find all the tools they might need. He tries to think of when Wanda had last made something sweet—what had she used? He ducks to pull out the biggest drawer, relieved to find three metal bowls of different sizes.

“Small, medium, large,” he murmurs under his breath, and he puts them all out beside the other instruments he thinks might be needed. A whisk, a bunch of different spoons, a glass cup and metal scoops… He glances around and tries to figure out what he’s missed before deciding to just open up every possible drawer and cupboard, and see what pricks his imagination.

He only gets to the second set of drawers when a soft chuckle catches his attention. 

Whipping around, he feels his heart drop into his stomach when he spots her leaning against the doorframe. Her hair is pulled away from her face, and she has a book and aprons hugged tight to her chest. 

“I didn't want to disturb you,” she says, an impish curl to her mouth. Bucky steps back from the kitchen island as she walks around and her gaze sweeps his collection. “It was cute.”

“Not many people can sneak up on me,” he says, a bit defensive as a flush makes its way up his neck. He doesn’t mean to sound like it, but maybe it’s the embarrassment of being caught that makes him oddly proud of his work.

“Not many people help me bake cookies,” she replies, standing next to him. She sets down the book and aprons down and he can catch the faint whiff of dinner at the mess hall clinging to her t-shirt. His heart hammers hard enough he’s sure even the deaf would be able to hear it as she gently plucks at different tools, thinking about what they will and won’t need. 

Not the thing that looks like a weird wire version of brass knuckles, got it.

“Uh, pastry cutter,” she names, returning it to its place without a mistake. “We won’t really need it since we’re not cutting up big portions of fat.”

“Good to know.” He nods and writes that down in his head. “Anything else we don’t need?”

“We can use it all if you want,” she says with a laugh living in her voice. “It doesn’t really make any difference to me.”

“Okay, well, let’s just get started, then.” 

“Aprons first.” She unfolds the two things, one white and navy, and the other black. The black one says Kiss the Cook and Bucky feels a flash of heat at the print. “Which one?”

The white and navy striped apron has a blue pocket with tiny white polka dots, the same pattern frilling the bottom and on the shoulder straps. The black, it’s clearly larger and for a man, and Bucky wonders if these were truly the only aprons she had or if she only bakes with guys she’s interested in. A flicker of jealousy runs through him. How many guys cooked with her before him?

Stop it. Not a date. Bucky shakes his head and shrugs.

“Whatever looks best on you,” he says. “Not that either of them would look bad or anything, but—”

“Thanks, Sarge.” Her eyes crinkle when she smiles big enough and she slips the black apron over her neck before sticking out the white and navy one to him. He stares at the piece of fabric for a moment before slipping his arms through and twisting his arms to tie a tight knot. She does the same and it’s pulled tight against her, Kiss the Chef smack in the middle of her chest.

“So where do we start?” He swallows because he thinks he’s just signed up for more than he bargained for. He looks at all these raw ingredients, ingredients he’s pulled because he thought it might be useful and doesn’t even know where to begin.

“First, we have to decide how many cookies and which type,” she says, pulling over the book and making space for it. She opens it up and his eyes widen at all the tabs poking out, different colours surely meaning different things. It’s an organized mess.

With a piece of scrap paper and a pencil, she writes down the number of required cookies. “Around there,” she says with a swift circle around a number bigger than Bucky had thought. “And these are the cookies we can make that everyone can eat,” she continues, writing a list down one side and then sectioning it off with a line, “these include nuts,” another section, “and these will have icing on them.”

“That’s a lot of planning for the fall equinox, ma’am,” he begins, trying not to sound daunted. She laughs, her eyes darting to his face. Her stare burns into his cheek as she shrugs.

“Hope I’m not scaring you away.”

No. Never. “Maybe a little.”

“Don’t worry. I’ll do the math and teach you a few tricks, and you’ll be a natural. Promise.” He’s surprised by how easily he believes her. As she talks about all the different types of cookies, the textures and ingredients one can use, Bucky finds himself slipping. He lets her scoot closer as she shows him how to sift the dry ingredients.

“Just tap it against your hand like this,” she says and Bucky copies her. She shows him how to prep the pan, and he preheats the oven. They mix the dough with their hands, and Bucky watches as her skilled hands manipulate the oily dough she’s created like it’s second nature. He glances down at his own pile in a glass bowl that doesn’t look too shabby, and almost smiles. “Yours looks really good, Bucky.”

“Thanks.” His eyes stick to the chocolate chips and he pokes it with a half-proud smile. “I had a great teacher.” She laughs again. She’s easy to laugh and smile, and every time she does either of those things, something in him feels like it’s going to burst with light. He wishes he was like that, but at the same time, he feels brighter than he has in days. Maybe it’s something about how she treats him like any other guy, or maybe it’s that she makes him smile more than anyone has in a while.

“Well, this is only batch one and two out of like, twenty billion,” she says as they begin to shape their cookies. Bucky had ripped the parchment paper for their trays and laid them flat and while they roll these balls of chocolate chip cookie dough, he can’t help but listen to her go on and on about things she wants to talk about. Life since the Blip, the recruits, hobbies and childhood memories. He can’t help but give his two cents too, and she tilts her head as she listens, a soft smile on her face.

“You’re a great listener,” she comments as he sets the trays in the oven and closes the door. She sets the timer on her phone and begins to prepare for the next batch.

“It was all I could do for a while,” he says with a shrug. “You get good at stuff you do for a long time.” Her actions slow and she turns to stare at him. He focuses on cleaning up his work space, swallowing down the smell of butter and sugar. “Guess something came out of it,” he adds uncomfortably when the silence grows. He looks beside him, at her, where there is a smear of flour across her cheek, where she merely stands there in silence, and sighs. He’s ruined it. “Sorry.”

“Is that why you hid your hand?” she asks softly and his eyes widen noticeably. “I didn’t want to ask to make you uncomfortable, but I did wonder.” She looks down to make sure she’s measuring enough sugar and she closes her eyes for a moment, clearly cursing herself. Bucky wishes he could say something, but his mouth doesn’t click with his brain. “Forget I even brought it up. I’m sorry, I—”

“I wore it for tonight,” he blurts out and she looks at him, eyebrows furrowed together. “It’s a photostatic veil Banner coded for me and… and I wore it for you.”

“Why? It’s not like I’m afraid of it.”

You should be. “I guess I just wanted to be normal for a night,” he sighs and she stops sifting for a moment to really look at him. Setting down the sieve, she leans on the counter and places the other hand on her hip, waiting for him to explain patiently. “Sam called it a date, and I think it got to my head.”

“Oh,” she breathes. He tears off the photostatic veil carefully, letting the mesh crumple in his hands and she swallows. The air is thick with an emotion neither of them can quite name and Bucky is quite sure she will never want to see him again. God, is this what it’s like to flunk a date? He sets down the mesh on a clean countertop, watching the hologram flicker as he flexes his metal fingers. They gleam in the artificial light and he hides it behind his back, shame pooling in his chest.

“I’m so sorry. I… I didn’t want to make it awkward for you,” he mutters and she reaches to touch his metal wrist tentatively. Kiss the Chef wrinkles against her chest and his gaze falls to the floor. He doesn’t quite know how to describe how utterly disappointed in himself he is when she steps closer, fingers curling over his. No pity in her eyes, she squeezes his palm carefully.

“I don’t want you hiding yourself away,” she murmurs, tilting her head so he is forced to look at her. His eyes stare dejectedly into hers and she smiles, using her other hand to cup his face. Powder dusts against his eyes and he squints. The smell of dough clings to her skin and she smiles fondly at him, fingers stroking his cheek. “I like you just as you are.”

“You like me?” he asks, confused, and she chuckles. “All I’ve done is help you make cookies.”

“‘Course I like you, dork. You’re hot.” A teasing bite in her tone, she taps his nose with her thumb before returning her palm to his cheek. “And I know you didn’t have control of anything in your past, and you’re trying your best, Bucky. That’s all any of us can do, now that we’re back.” Her eyes avert for a moment, and then find his again. There is a gooey softness that reminds him of molten chocolate and snow on Christmas eve. “I really do like you, you know. Have a big ol’ school girl crush on you, to be honest.”

“On me?” Why not anyone else? He’s bewildered. Sam, or that new receptionist on two, or even some other trainer because… 

Frankly, Bucky thinks he’s lost all appeal to those who know him since 1945.

She takes his silence as rejection and it shows in the uncertainty that mars her face. Bucky wishes he knew how to articulate that he is insanely attracted to her and how the way she laughs makes his heart believe it can jump mountains, but instead he is stunned into a quiet that fills the kitchen. He only met her a few hours ago. How can he even begin to explain it?

“We have cookies to make,” he says instead, eyes flitting to the open ingredients and he turns his head against her hand. She springs apart from him, cold rushing to fill in the space she’s left behind as she draws her hands towards herself.

“Oh. Yeah, I guess we do.” Her face falls and she grabs the sieve, a wobbly smile built on her lips. “Forget I brought it up, then.” She begins to sift her dry ingredients once again and he mentally groans to himself. Why is he such an idiot?

He mumbles her name softly, and she pauses, turning just so to look at him.

“I like you, too,” he says with a difficulty that shouldn’t be there, because it’s true. “I know I just met you today, but you’ve already made me feel… different, I guess”

“Different?” A tentative, stronger smile begins to curl the corner of her mouth and he nods, his lips twitching upwards. His hand, flesh and warm, settles on her hip all on its own, a fluttering touch that he is completely unsure of as he gently turns her to face him fully. She’s so damn gorgeous with flour on her face and eye bags beneath her eyes that he’s sure she will inevitably make his heart burst. It pounds in his head as he tries to grab at reasons he needs to step away, to stay away, but his heart battles his head ferociously. 

I’ll hurt you and I can’t stand the thought. I’ll hurt you or kill you or lose control and you can’t stop me and I don’t want to hurt you ever. His brain screams the words H.Y.D.R.A had thrown at him, the looks handlers had tossed at him flashing in his head—terrified, wild dog, monster.

I want to protect you, I want to love you, you light me up, I can protect you. I won’t hurt you. I’ll be better for you, if you could love someone like me. His heart whispers, louder than the silence. It’s the forties boy in him, the son his mama raised and the brother Rebecca loved, and he can recall the faces he’s adored—Steve, Ma, Becca.

“I don’t know how to explain it,” Bucky murmurs and she hesitantly touches his face. His eyes flutter at her gentle touch and she takes it as an invitation to cup his face once again. “It’s just… you.”

“I’m not special,” she tells him bashfully, words brushing against his lips as he closes his eyes for a moment against her hand. When he opens them once again, he finds her watching, transfixed. There is a new serenity in her eyes, one that tells him she is completely enchanted on something that cannot be him—he is anything but an angel.

“You really are.”

“Now, now, Sergeant Barnes.” Her voice is warm as whiskey and he can get drunk off the sound of her laugh. He can feel her smile just by how her energy shifts and Bucky falls, for the first time in his life; he falls harder than he ever has. “Go on like that and you’ll get anything you want from me.” 

“Even permission to kiss the chef?” Bucky’s words, thick and hot, jumble in his mouth. Her nose brushes his, sparks tingling in his veins as her hand trails to cusp the back of his neck.

“That permission will always be granted without question.” 

He kisses her softly, hesitance laced through his lips and it is only when she crushes him against her does he bury his hand in his hair and kiss her like she is meant to be kissed: feverently, reverently, forever reminded that Bucky Barnes is lucky enough to be completely in love with her.

.

Bucky is quite sure Sam is in love with his girlfriend in the fact that he’s in love with the fact that his girlfriend is possibly in love with Bucky. Bucky himself doesn’t think that she could possibly be in love with him, but Sam is more than eager to prove otherwise.

“Sam asked what I’m getting everyone for Christmas.” She’s on the shoulder press, the muscles in her back flexing and waning in a slick sheen of sweat while Bucky completes his set of push-ups. 

“He’s thinking too far ahead,” he mutters. “It’s only the start of November.”

“Well, you know him. I think he just wants an opinion on what I’m getting you.” Standing up, she grabs her water bottle, squirting a stream of ice-cold water into her mouth before laying down beside him. “What do you want for Christmas?”

He pauses mid-way up from his two-hundredth push-up. “You don’t need to get me anything, doll.” The nickname is still a bit strange on his tongue but he thinks he can get used to it.

“Yeah, but I wanna get you something.” She juts out her bottom lip in an adorable pout, a telltale sign she wants him to kiss her and he leans on one hand to press a quick kiss onto her lips before resuming his workout. He knows the signs on what she wants fairly easily now. He’s grateful she’s spelt it out so many times for him. 

Playing with his fingers means she wants attention, a pout is a kiss, suctioning kisses to the neck means she’s feeling some sorta way and he’s more than happy to oblige that feeling. There’s a long list of little tells that Bucky’s starting to think it’s a whole other language.

“How about cookies?” he deflects and she rolls her eyes, getting up and sucking down some more water. 

“I make cookies for everyone. You deserve something special,” she argues and he sighs. “I really want to make our first Christmas special.” He lies down and pushes on his palms, stretching out in a cobra pose while she rolls over into the splits. He pulls back into child’s pose while she leans forward and he’s thankful for the silence.

What do I want? he wonders. What do I want that I don’t have already? His eyes drift to her form only a few centimetres away and he thinks, Nothing. 

“I’ve got everything I want right here,” he intones seriously, crawling forward and she turns to him, eyes wide. Sitting upright, she changes legs. “I guess I want nothing to change.”

“Dork,” she mumbles, and a sticky heat pools in his face as she pokes his cheek. He sits down and she offers him his water bottle with a shake. He shakes his head, the argument that his own is only in the locker room. “Come on. Locker room’s too far away from me.” A sweat drop tracks down her jaw and he smiles softly, brushing it away. Legs crossed, he takes it without taking a sip. “Besides, I told you you can take what you want. I don’t mind.”

“Okay,” he says, knowing full well it just doesn’t feel right to take back the hoodies she’s stolen from him. Maybe one by one, he’ll take them back and wear them for at least twenty four hours before giving them back. Then, his scent will stay with her. “What do you want for Christmas, then?”

“I—” Her sentence is cut off by an alert on his phone, one they both know not to ignore and she sighs. There is disappointment, their little bubble popped with a simple text. He sets down her water bottle to get it, gut dropping at the message displayed on his screen. “How long is it?”

“Emergency response in Cairo, I don’t know,” he murmurs. Pocketing his phone, he grabs his towel and rushes back to her. He grabs her face and presses a desperate kiss against her mouth, eyes squeezing shut and she mumbles words he can’t decipher against his grieving lips. Her fingers touch his jaw gently, a reminder that he must go, and he pulls away. “I’ll text you as soon as I can.”

“Stay safe.”

He smiles shakily and promises that he will.

.

“Barnes. We got a package for you.” Sharon Carter’s voice catches his attention from his sniper post and he blinks away the winter sun from his eyes. No movement still. “Merry Christmas.”

The blonde extends a box towards him, a slight smile curling her lips and he frowns at the stark bleakness of it. Black, and absorbing no light, it feels heavier than he thought it’d be. 

“Thanks.” He shifts, his bones clicking as he glances out the tiny slit of a window. There hasn’t been movement for weeks. Crossing his legs, he sets the box before him and a tiny blue hologram pops up from a tiny hole in the center. His eyebrows furrow together as it scans his face and he squints.

“Facial scan complete: Hello, James Buchanan Barnes.”

F.R.I.D.A.Y.’s voice echoes in his small little perch and he still thinks it’s weird without having the side effect of Stark in his suit chasing after him to hear the A.I. but he shoves that uncomfortable feeling of the dead man out of his head. That is too much regret to unpack right now on a mission.

The box unfolds, the mechanical whir humming in his ears and a waft of sweet sugar rushes into his face as he peers within.

Cookies. Sugar cookies, butter cookies, frosting and crystal sprinkles, gingerbread, snickerdoodle, a note in her writing.

“She requested I ask you to read her note before eating the treats,” F.R.I.D.A.Y. says and Bucky pulls out her note. “She also requested that you stay safe, despite not being home for Christmas.”

Taking the blue cue card, he sighs at the mere sight of her writing. His heart aches much more than he realized and he wonders if she misses him half as much as he misses her.

Buck,

Times may be tough while we’re apart, but absence only makes the heart grow fonder. Stay safe, Sarge, and come back to me.

Merry Christmas. Forever thinking of you. 

When he bites into one of those cookies, he melts into the wall he’s leaning to and closes his eyes, just imagining her standing in the kitchen with that Kiss the Chef apron tied tightly around her. The taste brings back memories, and brings him back home to New York, to her. Home, he muses wistfully, home is waiting for me with her laugh and smell and eyes. Home.

.

Bucky drops his bags as soon as he’s off the quinjet because he spots the dark blur that is his girlfriend in a track pants and a big poofy parka running down the road towards him. He barely gets his arms up in time before she’s flying into his arms and he lets out a grunt, stumbling back as he flings his arms around her waist and holds onto her tightly. Her legs squeeze his waist as she burrows her head into his neck and Sam laughs as he unpacks the equipment.

“Bucky,” she says, pulling back and his arms hold her to him still, gently supporting her back and her bottom. Her hand cups her face and she brushes hair out of his face, tracing a healing cut on his lip. “You’re home.” She embraces him again, thighs tightening as if she’s afraid to see him leave again and he merely closes his eyes, letting the first day of 2024 snow against his skin. “You’re home.”

“I’m home, lover,” he promises, and she laughs, face wet when she steps back onto solid ground again. He opens his eyes to admire her, a vision; a sight for sore eyes from the arms length he holds her at. The snow melts as it lands on her skin but it nestles in her hair, a frame of white for her pretty face that he’s missed far too much. “God, I’m home.”

She laughs, a watery smile surfacing as she leans up to kiss him. They are rapid, wet with emotion and she smiles against his lips, just laughing in relief. “I love you so much,” she whispers and he blinks, drawing back. Her face is the epitome of happiness as he gawks at her and she wipes at her eyes. “You don’t have to say it back, but I just… I love you.” She doesn’t look afraid, only confident in her feelings for him and he scoops her up, his heart bursting with sunlight.

“I love you, too,” he whispers into her ear, embracing her tightly. She lets out a tiny exhale at his strength but hugs him back tightly anyway. What is love if not hugs that barely allow you to breathe and kisses until you’re dizzy? Bucky doesn’t know. “God, I love you.”

.

Bucky learns a lot dating her.

She hums when she cuts his hair—which she does every so often—and likes to cuddle in her sleep. She bakes for every occasion she can think of and likes to spoil Bucky rotten. Although their jobs often keep them apart during the day, Bucky likes to just watch her in her environment, ordering the recruits around.

She has a different sport she favours for every season. Jogging in the fall, hockey in the winter, tennis in the spring and swimming in the summer. More often than not, she drags a happy Bucky with her to the rec centre and he’s more than happy to participate, whether he shows it or not.

She expresses her feelings through cooking, which Bucky has learnt the hard way. One time, they got into an argument over something stupid—he can’t even remember what started it—and came to the kitchen at 2AM to see her sitting at the kitchen island crying her eyes out and surrounded by baskets of muffins.

“Lover,” he had called out softly, already too loud for the eerie time between midnight and morning. “You’ve got a bit of a muffin problem.”  

“I know,” she had replied dejectedly. “I don’t know what to do with all of it, Buck.”

They had donated it to shelters around the city, going on their own from street to street with baskets full of muffins. It becomes ritual, to have days where they bring baked goods and homemade meals to those who need it.

She doesn’t really know how to take care of herself, based on how she treats herself during assessment season, so Bucky has to pick up her slack and feed her more than caffeine. He feeds her diets that are balanced and healthy, and makes meals that he learns in his spare time to share with her while she shouts herself raw at the soldiers. 

He remembers her favourite foods and music, and knows just how to put an exhausted girl to bed with makeup and bra off. He remembers to write when he’s gone for too long during missions, and he remembers her birthday, favourite colour, and which show she’s currently obsessing over. He always downloads the seasons to catch up so he understands what she’s talking about.

It’s safe to assume he knows when to propose, hell, he’d been ready the night they first baked together, but he just has to remember to catch her ring size. There’s so much of his mind cluttered with these useless yet utterly adorable facts about her that he can’t bring himself to delete, that it’s always the one thing he forgets to do.

Here is where his friends come in.

.

They’re all hanging in the lounge on a lazy autumn day. Their one year anniversary is coming up and Bucky and Sam are watching football while she talks to Wanda about potential plans.

“Popcorn,” Sam says without tearing his eyes off the screen, shoving the bowl in their general direction. Bucky grabs it unceremoniously, popping a few into his mouth while she twists in his grip to pass the bowl to Wanda. 

“I have cookies cooling, boys,” she warns them and Wanda chuckles. The witch puts the bowl back on the table next to the empty nacho plate while Bucky’s girlfriend decides to curl against him, and his arm around her waist squeezes her close. His hand trails down to her thigh, hoisting her legs up while she peppers kisses on the underside of his jaw. 

“I don’t understand anything about this game,” Wanda intones once commercials hit, amused when Sam lets out a shout of disappointment. Beeping from the kitchen, a timer, breaks whatever retort he was prepared to throw back at the Sokovian and Bucky lets out a whine when his girlfriend unwinds from his lap to get up.

“Sorry, babe, but I gotta get them before they get too cold,” she says and Bucky frowns before nodding. He cups the back of her neck, and she kisses him quickly before pulling away and skipping to the kitchen. Wanda immediately crawls into the space on the other side of Bucky on the couch, pulling out her phone while Sam leans over to whisper.

“She sends me pictures all the time,” Wanda begins nefariously and Sam pulls out a strip of paper, a line in pencil across it. As he rolls it up into a ring, Wanda leans over to show Bucky pictures of the girls’ conversation. “She adores all of them, but she cannot decide.”

“And here you go, man.” Sam gives the paper ring to Bucky. “Got it while she was taking a nap.”

“She wants silver rather than gold,” Wanda says.

“And she doesn’t care about a venue.”

“But she likes the idea of a seasonal wedding.”

“Dude, she wants your babies.”

“She wants two or three kids.”

Bucky’s head begins to spin as they continue to bombard him with facts or proof that she actually wants to spend a life with him, and he blinks, staring at the commercials that still flash in his face. Grabbing Wanda’s phone, he focuses on the images that his girlfriend had sent the witch, gorgeous silver rings with diamonds, some with less, some with more, and simply tunes the two out, trying to internally decide what he should buy her. Meanwhile, Sam and Wanda have fallen into some argument about whether or not Bucky’s wedding is going to be a summer or winter wedding, when a new voice pierces the air.

“Who wants cookies?” 

Immediately, a hush falls over them. Bucky tears his eyes away from the phone just as Wanda snatches it back just in time for her to appear, striding into the room with the smell of cookies rushing in after her. She sends them an odd glance, and the trio of Avengers merely separate as she sets down the plate. A fresh batch of chocolate chip cookies are stacked ontop of a porcelain plate and Sam lunges forward to grab one while she picks one up delicately and resumes her place on Bucky’s lap.

“What were you three talking about?” she asks, amused, and he takes the cookie with a click of his mechanical arm. She tucks her head underneath his chin while his hand goes back to her thigh and he bites into the cookie.

“Nothing you gotta worry about,” he says. The game starts again and she can’t pipe up to argue without Sam telling them to shut up, so she doesn’t. Instead, she rests her head on his chest and Bucky hopes she doesn’t hear his heart beating like crazy in his chest. 

By the tiny smile he can feel against his chest, she can hear it.

.

Bucky holds the ring in his pocket for four months.

He had bought it the very next day after the football game because if he had let it sit, the nerves would’ve gotten to him, but now, new nerves are causing him to become paranoid: waiting for the perfect moment, scared that she’ll find out.

He thinks the proposal should be grand and all about how much he loves her and how much she’s shown him and loved him and it needs to be perfect. It is anything but that.

“Morning,” she whispers as her eyes flutter open. She’s laying against him in their comfy, toasty bed, and he doesn’t want to move for Christmas festivities except they both have to—a charity breakfast for veterans where Bucky is speaking, then a novice hockey game because his girlfriend just had to teach the cutest little seven year old boys how to utterly destroy their opponents, and then dinner. 

He traces shapes along the slope of her back lazily, craning his head to look at him and she smiles dazedly.

“Hey, lover.” He grins easier now, and when his smile splits his face, her own does too. “We’ve got a day ahead of us.”

“A day that’s way too long for Christmas,” she mumbles, closing her eyes and pressing her cheek against his chest. “Convince me to get up.” It’s still dark outside, a blissful 5AM full of snow delicately fluttering outside their window. He wraps a leg around her waist, pulling her close while she dozes and she lets out a contented sigh at his arm draped over her side.

“Don’t want to,” he replies, eyes closing. “Want you to stay right here with me.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Kinda want to stay here forever,” he continues drowsily, eyes fluttering shut and she shakes in his arms with a silent laugh. “Wish everyday could be like this.”

“You wake up earlier, and maybe it could be,” she retorts. Of course the early bird in her is perfect for her morning drills with her recruits, but Bucky prefers to sleep in like the owl he is, and he lets out a snort, kissing her hairline. “Just saying.”

“I’m too busy catching up on your shows.” His arm tightens around her.

“Catching up. Liar. I know you were up at 2 AM this morning binge-watching.” She tilts her head up, eyes opening. A spark lights up her face and a mischievous curl of her lip tells Bucky she’s about to say something that’s going to make him blush. “Just admit you like Gossip Girl and go, babe.”

“Alright, I like it.” Rolling his eyes, he pecks her forehead and she smiles victoriously. It’s so adorable that Bucky, with less than three hours of sleep, adds, “God, I want to marry you.”

“What?”

Oh.

Shit.

Bucky is suddenly more awake than if someone had thrown him into an ice bath. She almost throws herself off of him, sitting up and he follows her with his eyes as she twists to turn on the lights. Golden light paints her a goddess, and her hair is messy atop her head as she stares at him with wide eyes.

Bucky sits up slowly, the blanket pooling around their waists, and she blinks at him as he chews on the inside of his cheek.

“Do you not want to get married?” he asks slowly, almost afraid. Although he’s nearly 100% certain she wants to be with him, a part of him still bites at his stomach with doubt. “Have… have I been looking at this wrong?” He doesn’t tear his eyes away, holding this staring contest as she continues to stare at him, lips slightly parted and he reaches over to touch her hand. “You okay, lover?”

“You wanna marry me?” she asks, and he nods slowly, fire rising in his stomach and crawling up his neck as he makes a mental note never to keep secrets from her because when he’s been running on three hours of sleep, he likes to spill his guts where he feels safe. 

“I… I got a ring and everything.” He turns to open the drawer on his nightstand and pulls out the dark navy box, velvet brushing against his sleep-numb fingers. “Wanda and Sam helped, and I was going to make this a big thing, but—” He’s tripping over his words as he pries it open, and he watches as her gaze falls to the silver ring, the exact one from one of the pictures Wanda had shown him—”I know I don’t really deserve you, and god, you deserve better than a proposal at 5 AM but I really do want to marry you.”

“Buck—”

“I love you. I love you so much it’s crazy because I didn’t think anyone could love me, or that I could open my heart to someone like you, and I know you deserve more than this, a better man, but—”

“Bucky—”

“All I’m trying to say is… thank you. For loving me.” His sleep addled brain tries to scramble for more things to say, and he smiles, almost sad but so, so, very much in love. “Thank you for bringing laughter into my life again.”

“Bucky, you fucking dork,” are her first words and he blinks as she lunges into his body. The blankets twist and her warm muscles wrap around him as she peppers kisses all over his face. “You wonderful, wonderful man. I love you so much. I love you, I love you, I love you.” His arm props him up against her body as he holds onto the box and she straddles his waist, twisting to look at the box. Her smile is tender as she takes out the ring and slides it onto her finger and he smiles bashfully when she shows him the fit. He lets the velvet box slip from his hand to cup her waist and he sighs blissfully when she leans to kiss him.

“Remember when I asked what you wanted for Christmas last year?” she murmurs against his lips and he smiles as the cool metal of her new ring trails down his neck to his shoulder. “And you said you wanted nothing to change…”

“I guess I just didn’t want anything more than you,” he whispers fondly and she smiles, eyes closing as she knocks her forehead against his. “But this one change I can handle.”

“Yeah?” She opens her eyes to stare deeply into his and he smiles, a warm curl to his lip.

“Yeah.”

[chicksung]

One Last Time || Park Jisung

Genre: Fluff, best friends to lovers!au, nonidol!au. Part of the @neo-the-stars-net halloween collab

Pairing: best friend!jisung x fem reader

Word Count: 2.9k (I didn’t intend for this to happen)

Warning/s: Mentions of fake blood (red paint), singular mention of alcohol (not consumed by either party)

Synopsis: Senior year. Full of teenagers trying to pack the most into their last year of high school to make it memorable. You and Jisung have decided that this year will be the end of your tradition, trick or treating. Better make it count, right?

A/N: I was so happy to be able to be a part of this collab and a special thanks to @ncitythoughts for letting me bounce ideas off you. I really appreciate it, elle! This concept also one my favourites. I also couldn’t find a gif of it but the costume that jisung is in is his one from Halloween 2018! Enjoy, spookies!

Adding the final touches to your makeup, you smiled brightly at your mirror image and stood up, looking the same reflection up and down at your costume. You had recently found your obsession with Stephen King horror movies, your favourite of which being It. You knew that was basic, but the character design of Pennywise was something that continued to fascinate you. So, with your slowly growing sewing capability and enough dedication, you created your genderbent Pennywise cosplay. White top with ruffled sleeves, ruffle white skirt, a lot of white, but for a bit of fun (and what was pretty much canon) you had splattered the clean material with red paint, creating fake bloodstains.

Now your face was coloured white and your lips were shaded into the creepy and sinister smile that Pennywise always harboured. Once satisfied with your reflection, you turned to your best friend. “What do you think?” You called out to him, drawing his attention away from the whiskers he was drawing on his cheeks. He looked you up and down for a moment before smiling.

“Truly terrifying.” Jisung smiled, turning back to his reflection to add the last whisker. He placed down the eyeliner pen and stood up. Jisung’s costume was also mainly white, but his taking on a more animalistic and innocent portrayal, polar opposite to your ‘blood’ splattered clothes.

“Look at you, Jwi. So cute.” You said, playfully pinching his cheeks, causing him to groan.

“Y/N stop~ We’re not five anymore.” He stated.

He was right. You weren’t five anymore. You were both eighteen and in your final year of high school. Funniest thing about this whole thing is that you didn’t even know Jisung when you were five. The two of you didn’t meet until you were eleven and the seating plan the teacher had set up had graciously introduced you to Jisung, the soft spoken, gangly boy who spent way too much time in the gymnasium for your liking, yet the two of you became inseparable.

To be quite honest, you had no idea how it happened, it just did. Asking for solutions for the math homework ended up turning into the most important friendship you’ve made.

“Y/N! Y/N! Are you ready?” Your little sister, Gyuri squawked, running into your room in her cheap Halloween store Princess Aurora dress. The young girl was six and only came up to Jisung’s knee, but her excitement was measured to approximately seven feet tall. It was the first year that your mother had let her go trick or treating but only if you went with her, and knowing Jisung, he wasn’t going to mind the girl tagging along. You knew he was very much whipped for Gyuri and she looked up to Jisung like the older brother she never had.

“Give us a minute, GyuGyu. We’re almost done here. Why don’t you go and get the little bags I bought. They’re the purple and black bags I put on the kitchen table. There’s one for each of us, and our names are written on them. Can you do that for me?” You said, slowly shrinking down to her level so she hopefully wouldn’t be to intimidated by the creepy clown makeup, but thankfully she remained bubbly.

“I can do that!” She said, her hands curling up into little fists before running back out the door she had entered not long before.

“Does she ever just...stop?” Jisung asked. He was honestly jealous with how much energy the six year old had. You shook your head, a reminiscent shine glazing over your eyes. You didn’t recognise the trance you were in until Jisung was waving his hands in front of you.

“Hello? Earth to Y/N? Do you copy?” Jisung huffed, his big brown eyes almost touching your own. Your eyes finally snap back to now and you see how close in proximity your face was from his.

“Yes, I copy. Now get out of my face.” You rolled your eyes, shoving Jisung away from you. He chuckled and stepped away from you, a warm feeling buzzing in his chest. A buzz he recognised way too well, and one he only felt when he was with you.

“Okay you two, stand in front of the door. I think you know the drill.” Your mom smiled, camera clamped firmly in her hand as she gestured towards you and Jisung.

Another one for the scrapbook

You shuffled towards the tall boy, looking towards your mom and smiled. Jisung did the same. His heart shaped smile revealed his teeth and gums to the camera and your mother couldn’t stop herself from fawning over him a few seconds after the shuttering of the camera was heard.

“Aww, Jisungie, dont you just look adorable?” She cooed, making you roll your eyes. “Mom, stop it~ It’s embarrassing~”

“What? Am I not allowed to compliment someone?” She teased back before you rolled your eyes and strutted over to see the photo, a soft smile gliding across your face. This was really the end of your tradition, huh?

You and Jisung retreated back to your bedroom and from under your bed, you pulled out a scrapbook with its spine cracked from how many times it had been opened.

It had been your mother’s idea to scrapbook your friendship. Although you thought it was dumb at first, you’re really glad she had suggested it. Calling for Jisung to pass you one of your many orange gel pens, you made small decorations in the page before writing ‘Halloween, Senior Year’ at the top in cursive and glued the picture onto the page.

You couldn’t help but flick back to your very first Halloween together, you dressed in a cheap princess dress and crown (very similar to your little sister’s), and Jisung in an equally as cheap vampire costume, complete with fake teeth. Your pumpkin shaped candy buckets clutches tightly in your hands.

The more pages you flip, the more you watched yourselves grow. Jisung went to being shorter than you to being five feet taller than you and you grew into your body and developed as every girl did.

“God, I was so cringey back then.” Jisung groaned when he saw what picture you were looking at.

“And what makes you think you grew out of that?”

“And what makes you think that...that...” He tried to find something to fire back at you but all he came up with were bent bullets.

“Better luck next time, Sungie.” You smirked slyly, your hand creating a ‘V’ on his face and squishing his cheeks. He puffed his cheeks out and stood up, walking towards your little sister, who was busy imitating a spinning top in her dress.

“Gyuri! You silly, if you keep spinning like that, you won’t be able to come trick or treating with us!” Jisung told her, placing his hands lightly on her back to stop her. Gyuri stumbles for a second when she stopped before smiling up at Jisung.

“I’ve stopped now. Can we go?” She asked excitedly, bouncing on the balls of her heels and with a singular nod from your mother, she squealed (which rang through room in a pitch you didn’t like to think about) and grabbed her little black and purple bag and raced to your side.

“I take it you’re ready to go?” You asked the little girl, who nodded her head enthusiastically. You looked back to Jisung, but his eyes were trained to your sibling and an unconscious smile touched your lips.

“Have fun, kids!” Your mother voice broke your train of thought and you nodded.

“We’ll see you later, mom!”

As dusk turned to nightfall, you, your best friend and your little sister went to the doors of the decorated houses, which broke the familiarity of the normal picket fences neighbourhood. The excited rap on every house’s door was opened with an equally excited parent, placing candy into each of your buckets. There were a few who questioned you and your friend, asking if you were too old for dress up.

“It’s been our tradition for years. It’s what brought us closer together.” You would always tell them before taking Gyuri’s hand and skipping back up the path and onto the next house.

By 9pm, Gyuri was in Jisung’s arms, fast asleep, her pudgy cheek squished up against her eye. The stars were out now and the moon’s reflective rays were the only thing that lit up your path aside from the occasional streetlight. You opened up the front door, Jisung pushing passed you to deliver the six year old to your mother.

“Are you two going to stay out a little later?” She asked the boy. He nodded. “Yes, we are but not too much later.” He promised. Your mom smiled. If there was anyone who was just as whipped for Jisung as you were, it was your mother.

“Alright but no later than midnight, alright kids?” She called out as Jisung made his way to the door. With a call of reassurance delivered, you and Jisung left the house once more and began to wander the streets.

The memories from the past seven years crashed over your mind like a tidal wave, images of a younger set of best friends, running like crazy through the streets, playing chasy with all the other neighbourhood kids while the parents sat around and drank and conversed. The memories of your younger self. A younger friendship, a younger mindset, a younger crush.

Neither you ever confessed your feelings but you lost count of how many people (particularly adults) who assumed you were a couple.

“Do you remember when I would sleep over, if the sky was clear, we would say we would sleep under the stars but chicken out and just sleep in your room?” You reminisced on the story aloud, Jisung giggling in return.

“Yeah. We were so scared something like a cougar was gonna eat us or something.” His laughter picked up again, his eyes squinting as he did.

“The wild imagination of a child, I guess.” You concluded, falling back into comfortable silence before stumbling across a part of the neighbourhood that was all too familiar.

The woods.

Many games of hide and seek and murder in the dark were played here, the latter being played with other friends and children on the same street. You remember the nights of giggling until your sides ached, hiding until you had to find the seekers, being too good that you were always made the seeker.

“We basically know every inch of that wood.” Jisung cocked his head to the side, trying to peer into the wood, seeing if there were any creatures of the night lurking around. There weren’t but it wouldn’t hurt to check.

“I remember making so many cubby houses with Yuna and Seulgi. You, Renjun and Chenle wouldn’t let us into yours so we made our own. Turns out ours was much more stable when it came to windy days.” You teased, letting your shoes tease the edge between the woodly maze and the street. Jisung scrunched his nose up and folded his arms, mumbling something about Chenle being dumb and Renjun being just as dumb when it came to stability.

Jisung stood there for a second longer, before his eyes lit up with an idea. “We should play hide and seek.”

You snapped your head towards him so fast, it almost gave you whiplash. “Huh?”

Jisung looked at you and felt his chest was about to explode from the warmth inside it. “I mean, if we’re stopping our tradition tonight, might as well finish it properly. Let’s play hide and seek one last time, before we become boring adults stuck in office jobs and getting more paper cuts than hours of sleep.”

You couldn’t see why not

“Since it was your suggestion, you’re the seeker.” You declared as you dashed into the woods, looking for the same pile of old plywood that you would hide behind and no one could ever seem to find you. Jisung tried to protest but you were too far into the wood that his complaints fell onto deaf ears.

You could hear Jisung’s footsteps approaching and distancing themselves from the spot you sat. ‘Even after all these years, that idiot still can’t find me.’ You thought to yourself. You checked your phone and you had been crouched in the same position for ten minutes.

“Y/N! Y/N! Where are you?” You heard Jisung’s voice echoing from the other side of the wood.

“Over here, you stupid!” You called out, knowing that he was nowhere near close to finding you. He dashed back to the centre of the forest, looking around and trying to pinpoint where your voice had called out to him moments ago.

“Where’s here?” He asked, but this time, no reply. He groaned before calling your phone. You were quick to decline the desperate boy’s plea and watched as he tossed his head back in annoyance. You watched him slowly make his way closer to you, and you were in perfect alignment with his ankles. Yes. Yes. This is what you wanted.

One step. Two steps.

When he reached his third step, you grasped his right ankle, causing the boy to screech in a high pitch and high decibel rating. You were laughing your ass off, while Jisung calmed his racing heart (mind you, you were dressed as a psychopathic clown). You pouted at him before wrapping your arms around him.

“I’m so sorry. I saw the opportunity and I had to take it. Please please forgive me.” You pleaded, squeezing him tightly and listening as his heart slowed, but his heart still had a skipping rhythm to it.

“I suppose I can. But I can’t promise anything.” Jisung sighed out, plonking down at the base of a thick oak tree whose branches reached over the night sky, obscuring the stars that dimly shimmered above. You sat down beside him and sighed, your head resting against the tree.

Jisung watched over your smiling form, your fascination with the stars saving him from being caught staring at you. His heartbeat quickened once more and unbeknownst to him, a soft pink hue poked at his cheeks and reddened his ears.

“Y/N?” He called out to you, pulling you from your starry trance. You caught the flaming red that flowed on the tips of his ears.

“Yeah, Sungie?”

“Can I tell you something? Something I’ve been hiding from you?” His question was hesitant and his tone was shy, like he was scared of your reaction.

“Jisung, we’ve been friends for years. You don’t need to ask me to tell me something.” You chuckled, nudging his arm to try and get him to lighten up. The blush in his cheeks darkened crazily fast and he sighed.

“I’velikedyouforareallylongtimebu-” His words were jumbled and close together and you couldn’t understand anything he was saying.

“Woah, woah, woah. Slow down, Jwi. Take a deep breath and try again.” You reassured him, turning your body towards him and rubbing his shoulders. Jisung followed your instructions, sighing out his breath and trying again.

“I’ve liked you for a really long time but I didn’t know how to tell you. I felt like tonight would be my last chance before I chickened out again.” This time, you understood him and you couldn’t quite still your pounding heart.

“You don’t have to accept and I know this might ruin our friendship but I had to shoot my shot, you know and Haechan said-”

“I like you too.” You interjected, your own cheeks dusting pink. There was a silence, filled with processed emotions and spiked heartbeats.

“So...”

“Guess Renjun was right.” Jisung snapped his head towards you. “What do you mean?” You chuckled at the boy’s confused face and hummed.

“He said that if we didn’t like each other by the end of high school, there was something wrong with us.” Jisung scrunched up his face and mimicked the words you just, imitating Renjun’s voice. “Well, he wasn’t exactly wrong.” You smiled, picking yourself up and dusting off your knees and butt.

“How long have you liked me?” Jisung asked, standing up himself as the two of you started to wander aimlessly. You looked up to the sky in thought, the stars helping you connect the question to the last seven years.

“Since I was like...13? 14? We had been friends for a while but I kept it quiet because you were still dating Heejin.” You could hear Jisung audibly cringe at the name of his ex-girlfriend. Yes, he and Heejin were only together for two months but she was awfully clingy and had tried to drive you and Jisung apart.

“You know what’s good about this though?” Jisung said, looking back to you, still seeing the sparkle in your eye despite it being almost pitch black.

“What?” No sooner had you said that, you felt Jisung’s lips touch the burning skin of your cheeks and your face flushed red. He laughed at you before pulling your arm towards the street once more.

“I should get you home. Your mom said to be home by 12, didn’t she? Don’t want her thinking I’ve Up and left with her daughter.” He smiled at you.

As the two of you walked side by side, like you had done for years, your pinky fingers wrapped around each other as you set off home. Down the same road you had walked for years, with the person you loved more than anything.

[daydreaming-jessi]

Day seven: free day

The final beetlelands week piece, made it just in time. Here’s to many more!

It was a bit of an atypical day. Sandy had, for homesickness related reasons, brought a metric ton of Saturn sand to the backyard of the Deetz-Maitland home. Lydia wanted to keep it, because it was sand from Saturn, but the sand had to be taken care of lest it ruin their hard worked upon garden. Adam volunteered to help clean it up while Barbara and Beetlejuice elected to stay in and do some spring cleaning in the attic. Well, Barbara was doing spring cleaning.

Beetlejuice, however, seemed to be determined to distract Barbara from said cleaning. “Babs. Hey. Hey Barbara. Ba-arb, look!”

Barbara blew a distracting strand of hair out of her face, carefully wiping dust off the coffee table while Beetlejuice continuously tried to vocally prod her from the couch. She smiled triumphantly at the pock marks being successfully wiped away. It’s taken her quite a few tries to successfully put proper pressure on the cleaning cloth, but with some practice, it was getting much easier to do.

Suddenly arms wrapped around her hips, startling Barbara into dropping the cloth. She hadn’t even heard Beetlejuice get off the couch. “Bee, I’m trying to clean here. If you’re gonna distract me, then go do something else,” she huffed, twisting her head to glare at the demon grinning up at her.

“But Barbara, I wanna cuddle,” Beetlejuice crowed, yanking them both side to side. He batted his eyes adorably, in the way he knew that Barbara had a hard time resisting.

“We could cuddle sooner if you helped me clean up in here,” Barbara replied steadily, raising an unimpressed eyebrow.

“You and Adam are such neat freaks. What’s wrong with a few decorative cobwebs? Makes it feel homey in here,” Beetlejuice finally let her go to float backwards into a corner of the attic where a home of spiderwebs lay.

Barbara jolted at the sight of the webs. “Because it shows other people we don’t care about our home!” She said, coming over with a new dust cloth to clean the silk up. Beetlejuice stayed stubbornly in place, forcing Barbara to try and reach around his body. She was quickly stopped by a second pair of arms sprouting out from Beetlejuice, grabbing her hands and spinning her.

“A, who is gonna come see our attic, and dos, who cares what other people think? All that matters is that we look creepy and have an excellent aesthetic,” Beetlejuice said, moving to spin Barbara around the attic. She couldn’t help but giggle at the impromptu dance, partially glad for the distraction.

Cleaning the attic wasn’t exactly necessary, Barbara and Adam usually kept it well maintained, and even Beetlejuice kept from tossing things wherever he pleased for them, but Barbara had been drilled by her parents to always keep her home spotless. She didn’t keep to the part that the task was only a woman’s job, she and Adam shared the work equally, as one should, but it was hard to shake off the rest of the teachings.

The two finally stopped their spin in front of the couch, where Beetlejuice swayed back and forth, his eyeballs actually rolling in his eye sockets. Barbara snickered at his antics, but took a step back. “Alright, enough distracting me, you. I still need to sweep under the furniture,” she said.

Beetlejuice leaned backwards with a groan onto the couch, making it creak and sag dangerously. “You literally sweep up here every two days, Babs. There’s not gonna be anything there to sweep,” he pointed out.

Barbara shrugged self consciously. “It’s important to do, in case there is any dust buildup,” she argued.

“Literally, who cares? It’s under furniture, we don’t ever have to deal with it. You know normal people don’t clean attics, right? Chuck and D aren’t, like, expecting you to clean up here, and Adam has sawdust all over his workstation all the time, he ain’t some kind of neatfreak. You’re literally just doing this for nothing,” he pointed out, shooting Barbara a pout.

She tried to think of a counter, but found she had nothing that would satisfy Beetlejuice. “It’s just something I’m gonna do, alright?” She finally said, turning to grab the broom.

Beetlejuice frowned and crossed his arms and legs, looking like a sulking child. “Fi-ine, whatever floats your boat, Barbie.”

Barbara froze, before slowly turning back to Beetlejuice. “What did you just call me?” She asked, her voice strained.

Beetlejuice shot her a strange look, before answering, “Uh, Barbie..?” Barbara’s shoulders rose up, and realization lit up Beetlejuice’s radiation green eyes, and a grin began to stretch across his face. “What, you don’t like it?”

“It’s awful,” Barbara replied flatly, crossing her arms.

“You don’t wanna be called Barbie?” Beetlejuice cooed.

“Why would I wanna be called that dumb dress up doll brand?” Barbara replied, her cheeks blazing red.

“Holy shit, you hate it! That’s hilarious!” Beetlejuice cackled, falling onto his back.

“What’s so funny? I don’t even look like that doll! It doesn’t make sense,” Barbara huffed.

“Oh my god, I am so using this, this is fantastic! You’re so mad!”

Barbara gasped. “Don’t you dare!”

Beetlejuice paused his laughter and shot her an evil grin. “Oh really? Whatcha you gonna do?”

Barbara pointed a finger at him warningly. “I will not hesitate, Lawrie.”

Upon hearing her nickname for him, Beetlejuice’s grin impossibly widened, cracking his jawbones. It was a strange name the ghost couple had come up with, but he loved how warm it made him feel. Beetlejuice raised his hands reassuringly, looking away innocently. “Ok, ok, I’ll be good. No more of that nickname from me,” he said.

Barbara shot him a suspicious look, slowly turning back to her previous task. “Alright…”

“Yup. Not even gonna think of the word, trust me Barbi-“

“That’s it!”

Barbara tackled Beetlejuice on the couch, tucking his legs firmly between her thighs as she sat upon his lap and the air filled with his crackling laughter. She began to dig her fingers into his sides, making the demon jump from the sudden, tickling sensation.

“Weh-! No! No fair, I can’t actually feel your ghost fingers, no!” He wheezed, trying to shove her away.

“I told you, this is just what you get for not listening!” Barbara grinned, using one hand to clamp the demon’s hands above him, her dancing fingers moving from Beetlejuice's expansive belly to his armpits.

“No, stop! Oh my god, stop!” Beetlejuice howled. He managed to wriggle onto his stomach, but found it didn’t help, as she had more access to his neck, and began to kiss it as she dug into his sides, knowing it was just as ticklish as any other spot. “Knock it off, you wraith!” Beetlejuice wheezed, rolling back to his previous position and shoved his feet to press against Barbara’s chest. She giggled, and lurched forward again, her fingers wiggling threateningly towards his sides.

Beetlejuice pushed her back and Barbara found herself hanging against Beetlejuice’s feet above the demon. “Aw, c’mon, that’s not fair!” Barbara laughed, wriggling against Beetlejuice’s surprisingly strong calves.

“I don’t care if it’s fair, I never play fair, Barbie!” Beetlejuice grinned.

Barbara squawked in mock outrage, making grabbing motions at Beetlejuice. “I will get you back for that dumb nickname, you jerk!” She threatened, her smile wider still.

Beetlejuice laughed at how futile her attacks were, watching her for a moment.

Her blond hair was flying around wildly, roughed up from the play fighting, her face was red and she was huffing, slightly out of breath, and her eyes. They were crinkled up with laugh lines, shining brighter than the surface of UY Scuti, bluer than the depths of the ocean, and filled to the brim with care, and they were directed to him. She was laughing so beautifully, filled with adorable snorts and chortles, it made his long dead heart quiver like it was struck with heart attack inducing arrhythmia. He loved these moments, loved how easy and warm they were. Loved that he was never afraid of her and Adam, never had to hide himself from them. He could just lose himself, freely tease them and just enjoy his afterlife. He loved Barbara and Adam so much…

Wait.

Beetlejuice froze, his face falling into one of shock, and Barbara paused upon seeing this. “Lawrie? What’s wrong?” She asked.

Beetlejuice stared at her for a long moment, his hair starting to darken to a gorgeous magenta she’d never seen before. His eyes traced her face, the demon unnerving,h silent, before blinking out of his stupor.

“I love you,” he said, voice breathless.

Barbara froze, staring back at him in shock. He… he said that. He actually said that.

The door opened, causing the two to look up. “You would not believe how much sand a sandworm can carry from Saturn, I’m more dust than ghost right now,” Adam huffed, patting his clothes down as he came in. He looked up and paused upon seeing the scene, before smiling a fond grin.

“What are you two doing now?” He asked, leaning back and crossing his arms. His hair was highlighted with a warm copper tone, dusted a gray-yellow from the Saturn sands, his body framed by the golden sun filtering through the attic windows. His green eyes were twinkling, so fond and happy of the sight before him.

“And I love you,” Beetlejuice said, his voice in awe at the long known realization finally washing over him.

Barbara whipped her head back around to stare wide eyed at a Beetlejuice again, and Adam nearly choked on the sand still built up in his throat.

Beetlejuice seemed to have realized that the room was now silent. His hair became a flustered pink, white and blue. “I-“ he gulped, pale. He’d ruined it, he ruined everything. He went too fast, veered too far off course, he fucked it all up like he always did-

Suddenly Beetlejuice was almost knocked off the couch with an arm full of Barbara. She had his cheeks squished together and was pressing hundreds of kisses to his face. “Love you too, god, I love you too!” She whispered between kisses, reassuring and happy.

They were both enveloped in Adam’s arms as he scrunched into the couch behind Beetlejuice’s back. He pressed a warm, long kiss to Beetlejuice’s ear, grinning widely. “Love you too,” he added, resting his forehead against Beetlejuice’s hair. Barbara chuckled at his long gesture, before looking back to make sure the other colors were gone from Beetlejuice’s hair.

The magenta was back, and the tension was gone. He looked dazed, but there was a huge, drunk grin on Beetlejuice’s face, looking like he’d just been told that hallucinogens were reintroduced to modern medical treatment. “Cool,” he rasped, his voice somehow even more gravelly than before, and his body was lax. He didn’t need to hold onto the Maitlands tight, they were right here, they weren’t leaving. He had all the time in the world to just soak in their softness.

[houseof-harry]

Rule 1: No Kissing

Hey guys! this is little blurb about fwb!gray that I wrote a little ago. Read that here! Hope you enjoy!

By now you knew the drill. You’d text one another after the people you live with were asleep and you were itching for the touch. As much as you wanted to act sly or hard to get, you’d both give in pretty fast and within a half hour you’d be naked together.

You didn’t know that this time would be a little different. The beginning started the same. You saw his text and the butterflies immediately found home in the pit of your stomach. It was always easier to act like it was just sexual, but you knew you were quickly pushing your most important rule with Grayson. But, if you ignored it, you still got to fuck him and that was enough for now.

You’d decided to go casual this time, your loose shorts flowing against the tops of your thighs, the breeze from outside reminding you of your lack of undergarments. You’d decided to go sans bra as well, your nipples hard under your white shirt. The walk to his door felt longer than normal, but you also felt more exposed than usual.

Before you can text him, the door before you opens and Grayson’s grinning face greeting yours. You giggle, your gaze meeting his. “Hey.”

“Hi.” His eyes trail up and down your body as he leans against the doorframe, taking you in.

“Were you looking out for me?” You couldn’t help but poke some fun, his timely appearance at the door making you feel somewhat flustered.

“I’m a man with needs, can you blame me?” His eyes finally meet yours, the smirk on his face making his intentions even more clear. Not that you didn’t know what they were, but it shocked you sometimes how bad he’d want you.

You find it within yourself to giggle and shrug, your cheeks turning pink as you finally let yourself gaze down at his naked torso. It seems Grayson had a similar thought process to you. He was just in some gray sweats, his muscles taut as the lines of his stomach led below the seam, your eyes following to where you’d been wanting to look the whole time. You quickly meet his eyes again to see he’s been watching you the whole time. You felt like you were slowly adding his ego, the smugness radiating off him. “You’re such a douche.”

“You love it.” He reaches to grab your elbow, prompting you to walk into the house. He shuts the door before guiding you to his room by the middle of your back. You don’t know what to say because he’s right. His confidence translated to how he pleasured you and he was damn good at it.

Once you were safely in his room, the door locked, you smiled. He had music playing already, his lights dimmed. “How long were you waiting for me?” You turn to him, your arms crossed.

“You take ten years to drive, decided to set up an ambiance.” He slowly approached you, his hands already reaching for your hips. 

“I live forty minutes away and made it in half an hour, I don’t drive slow. You’re just impatient.” You allow your hands to grab his biceps once he reaches you, his grip pulling you flush against him. Heat radiates off his chest and through your thin shirt and it made you wish you were feeling him directly.

“You’re right. Can’t blame me, though.” His hands trail down your body, wrapping around you so that they lay on your ass cheeks. He gives you a gentle squeeze that elicits a gasp from the back of your throat as you adjust your arms to wrap around his neck. “You’ve got a nice ass.”

You laugh, your head falling back as his hands continue to massage you. “Such a gentleman.”

“You’d hate if I was a gentleman,” he scoffs, his hands only relenting on your flesh to slowly begin to drag your shirt up your torso.

You go to retort, but the feeling of his thumbs brushing your nipples as he continues to raise your shirt up and over your head.

At this point you know there’s no point in responding because his focus was on your chest. You weren’t gonna complain about it.

His mouth finally came down onto your skin, his tongue finding your nipple quickly. You let our a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, one hand sliding into the back of his hair to make sure he couldn’t leave your body.

He only removes his mouth from you once he’s satisfied with the pebbled skin under his tongue, and he moves to your other nipple before your can protest from the cold air hitting your now wet skin. He starts to walk you backwards towards the bed as he listens to your quickening breaths.

Once he gets you situated on the bed he climbs over you, your hips trapped under his. You could feel his dick against your hip and you’re sure if you looked down, you could easily see the outline of it against the cotton of his sweats. The though made your mouth practically water and realized how much you’d missed his touch this week.

He trails kisses down your torso, his tongue poking out every so often just to watch the goosebumps raise on your skin in his wake. He loved how much you reacted to his touch and bet he could probably get off on just your reactions alone.

As he reached the edge of your shorts, he paused. You looked down at him and raised a brow.

“Are you not wearing any fucking underwear?” He looks at you, surprise and humor covering his face.

“Are you gonna make fun of me or are you gonna find out?” You huff, just wanting him to touch you. You’d been busy all week, unable to even touch yourself. Hell, if he didn’t do something soon you’d do that right now.

“Not making fun, just surprised,” he chuckles as he begins to kiss over your shorts, slowly moving down closer to where you wanted him most. “God I fucking smell you, baby. You’re fucking soaked.” He leans in, his nose resting right next to where you need him as he takes a big breath in.

You whine, nudging him with your knee as you squirm uncomfortably. “What? Now you’re gonna be shy? After everything I’ve already seen and done?” The cockiness is practically dripping from his words as he brings his thumb to slowly slide up and down your covered slit slowly.

“You’re so fucking weird. Please just make me feel good,” you practically beg, hating the attention he would give you. It would always remind you just how hard it was to stay friends when he’d act how he was now.

“You know I’m gonna do that, baby.” His voice was gruff as he sat up, his fingers hooking into your shorts to pull them down. You lift your legs to assist him and his eyes widen when he realizes that his guess was true and you had been completely naked under your shorts. He can also see your wetness dripping down your slit, clear evidence you were anticipating this moment just as long as he had. “Fuck,” is all he can muster up, his need to be inside you significantly increasing.

“Gray,” you whine, the cold air completely encompassing you from his lack of touching and his stare holding you hostage in front of him. You didn’t want to move but you also wanted him badly.

Hearing his name fall from your lips brings him back to reality, his arms trapping you in-between them. He’s quick to shimmy his pants down just enough for his cock to appear between you guys, his sweats resting on his thighs.

“You weren't wearing any either?” You raise a brow at him, your fingers brushing against his hips as a smug smirk falls on your lips.

“Waste of time when I’m with you, no?” His words are a bit rushed as he takes his pants off and gets the condom from the night stand, rushing to open it and slide it on himself. Once he’s back on top of you, he pumps himself a few times before sliding his dick up and down your slit.

“Wouldn’t have been so surprised if you hadn’t given me shit for it,” you manage to squeak out, the feeling of him finally on you immediately setting your nerves on fire in anticipation for what he’s about to do.

Before you hear a response, he slides into you slow, making sure to savor the feeling of your walls slowly taking him in inch by inch. Relief slowly begins to spread through your whole body, his dick alleviating the want you’ve been feeling for him ever since he last fucked you.

Once your hips are touching his and he’s fully inside you, you feel his breath across your face. “ Wasn’t giving you shit, thought it was hot.”

“Well you’re shit at flirting, then. I couldn’t tell.” Your voice sounds weak, the conviction gone from it as you do your best to sass him even though you can already feel yourself begin to sweat just from the feeling of clamping around his dick.

Instead of responding with words, he begins to move. His pace is quick from the start, his self-control completely gone after feeling your vice like grip. He feels like he could get lost in fucking you sometimes, like he never wanted to stop. You were irresistible, his kryptonite.

“Fuck, baby.” His breath was hot on your face, his nose no more than an inch away from yours. You could feel his whole body move on top of yours, his stomach brushing against your with every delicious stroke in and out of you.

You did everything in your power to keep your eyes open. Right now his eyes held your captive, the pleasure written in your irises as you looked at one another. You’d never done this before with him, usually too caught up in the moment to be watching his eyes while he fucked you so well. It was almost intoxicating, knowing he felt the same way you did. And all because he was fucking you.

You could feel your slick easily spreading around the both of you, everything feeling hot and sticky. This was your favorite with him, you decided. You’d rather feel this than clean and cold any day.

Grayson pulls you from your thoughts with his hand moving between your bodies and meeting your clit. He rubs it quickly and relentlessly, your pleasure instantly heightened to a new level. A moan comes from the back of your throat,  filling the air along with the music that was still playing in the background.

“Feel good?” he breathes out, his eyebrows pulling together but his eyes never leaving yours.

All you do is nod, biting your lip as you begin to move your hips up to his thrusts and causing his fingers to hit you just right. By this point you’re moaning on every breath, your fingers tingling as they grip the middle of his back.

He lets out what you think he intended to be a laugh but was more of a grunt as he moves to grind his hips more, rubbing against the spot inside you that drives you fucking crazy. Between that and the sound of his dick moving inside of you, your cheeks become more red, the blush running down your neck and to your chest as he builds up your orgasm.

You clench around his dick, your toes curling as he continues to fuck into you, sweat appearing along his hairline and falling down the side of his cheeks. He looked like he could absolutely destroy you, which kind of made you regret making a rule to keep it vanilla.

Before you could dwell on that, however, a whine comes from deep within him, making you smirk. “Close?” Your voice surprised the both of you, the rasp coming from deep within your chest. It was almost verbal confirmation of how good he was making you feel and it drove him fucking insane.

“Are you?” He mumbles, his eyes glossing over as he did his best to hold back his orgasm.

You whine, your nails scratching down his sides slowly in an attempt to ground yourself. Your brain was foggy, completely consumed with everything he was giving you. He was reaching parts of you no one had before, and he made sure you knew he could every time you fucked. Between that and the musky smell of his cologne and sweat, you were surprised you hadn’t passed out or something.

“Answer me,” he demands, his face moving even closer to yours, his breath on your parted lips.

“Oh my god yes,” you mumble, your chest heaving as you started to give in to the pleasure completely.

“Let me kiss you.” His request pulled you from that momentarily, taking you totally off guard. You’d both agreed it probably wasn’t a good idea, it would make it more real than it needed to be. However, you were on the brink of your orgasm and you wanted to cum really bad. And you really wanted to kiss him, but you weren’t going to say it.

Instead of responding, you lean up to close the gap between your mouths. This wasn’t the first time you had kissed, but it might as well have been. His mouth was hot and heavy on you, his tongue finding your mouth straight away as he kisses you like you’re the air he’s been needing his whole life. It’s powerful and erotic, and it pushes you off the edge as you finally cum around his dick. He continues to work you through your orgasm to make it last as long as possible, his mouth never leaving yours.

Once he feels your hands smooth over his back, he moves the hand that was between you guys to mirror the other one by your head so that you’re trapped in between his forearms. He pulls his mouth from yours for a second, like he was checking on you or something. He scans your face, slowly moving his hips to test the waters.

“Make yourself cum,” you mumble, bucking your hips up and squeezing him with your walls. He moans loudly, bringing his mouth back to yours as he works himself up again quickly, his hip stuttering after a few moments. You can feel his hot cum shoot into the condom as his stomach quivers above yours. He stops kissing you, panting into your mouth and his lips still touching yours. You didn’t mind, though. You liked having him that close.

All too soon, though, he’s pulling away from you and climbing off the bed to dispose of the condom. You lay there in a daze, still feeling a bit like you were in a dream or something. Your feet rested against the bed, your knees raised and resting together as you tried to muster up the strength to get up.

Before you could, he crawled back on the bed, grabbing your knees to spread your legs. You whine in protest, a hand going to cover your pussy as he chuckles. “Too sensitive, can’t go again.”

“Not trying to, just wanted one more look.” He grabs your wrist to move your hand, his signature smirk coming back to his lips as he can see you visibly clench from the cold air. He decides he’s tortured you enough, pushing your legs back together as he falls on his side to lay right next to you.

Before you process what’s happening, he's gripping the side of your face to turn your head to him. He leaves one slow, sensual kiss on your lips, his face not going far from yours once he’s done.

You decide that’s not enough, leaning it and kissing him again. He lets you, your hand coming to his wrist to make sure he can’t move his grip on your cheek, your mouths moving together as you lay there in your post orgasm bliss.

When you need to breathe again, you pull away completely, a quiet giggle falling from your now puffy red lips.

“Can't believe I’ve gone that long without doing that, feel like I can’t stop now,” he mumbles, a cheeky smile on his lips.

And he most certainly never did.

[ask-garnet-n-ruby]

Because it’s not a secret that garnet has fucked both summer and yang. My question is has he ever gone into a haze when having sex and fucked ruby when looking for that next hole?

“Oh, he has, plenty of times,” Ruby blushed, running a finger through her hair. 

She recalled the first time she had experienced such an unexpected, but highly enjoyable time. Back during one nice breezy summer day in Patch. Where Summer had to go out and run a few errands, leaving her, Garnet, and Yang to their own little devices in the house. Ruby had decided to do what she normally did on days like this, watch a ton of videos on her scroll while pigging out on some delicious homemade cookies made by their mom. But before she could do that, she had decided to see if Garnet and Yang would be up for watching a movie; since one of their favorites was coming on. Upon entering the room, however, she wasn’t prepared to see her twin brother and older sister lying naked and unconscious having had sex just a little bit prior to her arriving. 

Ruby couldn’t help but blush deeply at the sight. She was well aware of the fact that Yang and even their mom had been sexually intimate with Garnet. But had never really witnessed it for herself until now. To say that it threw the girl for a loop was an understatement. The sight, the smell, and the overall overwhelming presence was almost too much for her. Not to mention the size of her brother’s massive cock resting in between his legs so casually. It was practically crazy that something so big belonged to her older twin. And as much as she wanted to look away, her eyes kept gravitating back to the monstrous fuck stick. 

She had been so enraptured by the flaccid penis. She didn’t even notice her brother beginning to stir from his sleep, spotting Ruby in a blurry haze. Only seeing a familiar mop of crimson hair in his vision. Without really questioning it, believing that his mother came back from her errands faster than he expected, he grabbed Ruby by the wrist. Making the girl squeak in shock as she was suddenly pulled into a deep passionate kiss. Rendering the younger twin utterly shell shocked at what was happening. The very fact that she was kissing her brother sent her heart and mind racing. As well as making her unable to resist him as she was stripped of her clothing. By the time she had gotten her bearings together, he was already on top of her, teasing her slit and pushing his way into her snatch. And though she didn’t have her hymen, she was still a virgin. A loud gasp followed by a moan tore through Ruby’s throat as she was stuffed full of her brother’s dick. Her wall instantly clamping down around her brother’s shaft in pain and pleasure. Hearing the boy making an off-handed comment about his “Mother” being tighter than usual. Nearly leaving her breathless as the hazed induced boy started thrusting, drilling his member with the usual pace and speed that Summer and Yang were accustomed to. But for Ruby, who was experiencing this intensity for the first time, it was enough to send the girl into a whirlwind of pleasure. The crimsonette threw her head back, letting out screams as Garnet roughly slammed into her at high speeds, her poor womb taking a pounding as her pussy trembled and convulsed uncontrollably. It wasn’t long before she was cumming her brains out thanks to her brother. Her legs shooting up stiff while her juices sprayed everywhere. The last thing Ruby saw was Garnet smirking as he leaned into to suck on her boobs, before the immense pleasure making her blackout in pure bliss.

-X-

By the time Yang woke up, she looked to see if Garnet was up and about, and her eyes nearly popped out at the sight before her. Her precious brother and sister were lying together naked, with Garnet’s dick deeply embedded inside of her little sister’s snatch, while Ruby had a dopey smile on her face. Really it didn’t take a genius to figure out what happened here. 

Yang tempted to wake them up, but decided against it and instead took a picture. Sending it to Summer with a small grin, “Heh, looks like you called it, Mom.” 

Needless to say, Summer and Yang would be looking forward to including Ruby in this little mess of fun from now on. 

[dragonoffantasyandreality]

Kamen Rider Thunderbirds chapter 3 (Bit 3)

(Prologue, Bit 1, Bit 2...)

Finally, this chapter is moving! XD

I should thank @myladykayo, @gumnut-logic and @willow-salix for cheerleading for me and helping me with the plot. You ladies are awesome! :D

(Also tagging @tsarinatorment​, for some lil Military bros moments ;)

-0-0-0-

"Thunderbird One to base. I can see the building fire! Looks pretty bad!" Scott reported as he steered his mighty 'Bird above the danger zone, “According to the firefighters and PD, they kept fighting the fire, but it kept on coming!”

“Alright. Be careful out there, for we do not know the cause.” noted Jeff through the comms.

The blue sashed commander maneuvered his sleek, silver Thunderbird. He searched the area, scanning everything. The building was still standing but the fire had consumed most of it. The intense heat melted the snow around it. This wasn't a good day before Christmas.

Luckily, most of the fellas inside had been evacuated. But a small group had been trapped within the basement. Nobody knows how long till the building will collapse above them. That's where International Rescue comes into the picture. And that's what made Scott a little wary… something's not right…

He didn't like the sound of it. From the information that he had processed from John and the firemen down below, he felt that the cause of the fire was intentional. It was said that the fire had started in one part of the basement, then another one in some other place, then another one… it felt like something, or someone had been setting fires all around the building… this is not okay...

"Thunderbird One to Thunderbird Two, when are you arriving?" Scott commanded.

"Arriving at the danger zone in about 3 minutes…" replied the voice of Virgil.

"Well be quick Virgil! We don’t have much time!" hastily said Scott as he landed Thunderbird One on the safe zone.

The green behemoth arrived shortly after, Scott was at the edge of his seat as he watched her land near his sleek grey bird. He didn’t have the time to instal mobile control, since the operation was needed in all hands. He began briefing the mission at hand. The field commander nearly raised his voice at the babbling terrible two, only to stop himself from doing so and kept his calm as possible. He finished briefing and got to work.

While Virgil went to prepare the Firefly, Gordon and Alan were donning their heat-protection suites as they waited for the next part of the operation. They were no longer chit-chatting, only worried. The young blond pointed out how Scott was heated as the fire of the building. The aquanaut agreed. Yeah, they did tease their elder brother for being a little grumpy. But now, they were beginning to see the problem. The terrible two can only hope this is the last rescue for their eldest, so Scott can have a long break…

Thunderbird 2 raised herself, her four copper legs raising her big green body to reveal her pod. The big door of the pod opened, falling down slowly as a yellow, bulldozer-like vehicle rolled over it as soon as it hit the floor. Firefly had been deployed!

Virgil guided the big anti-fire vehicle towards the rumble of flaming debris at the foot of the building. He struggled as he pushed them away. The heaviness and heat slowed the process, but it was better than nothing.

“Gee, this fire was a lot hotter than I thought! Even my heat-resistant suit won't cut it!” The mechanic noticed as he gritted his teeth, his grip to the wheel tight as he continually pushed the accelerator.

"Try using the fire-retardant on it!” Suggested Scott, a tone of urgency in his voice.

With a nod, Virgil reached out for the switch, "Here it goes…" he muttered, as he fired the retardant into the fiery ruble.

It exploded as the fire had been put out. But for a moment, the mechanic swore he heard an echo of a distant scream after that. It sent a chill down his spine. What was that?

"Did you guys hear that?" He asked, almost frantically. It wasn't just him who heard it, was it?

"No we didn't. What did ya hear, Virge?" Gordon chimed, a teasing tone in his voice.

"I swear I heard a scream! And it doesn't sound human!" Virgil gritted, both from the struggle of pushing away the rest of the ruble and from the annoyance for a certain redheaded fish.

"Okay, okay. You sure it isn't your engines fired up from pushing all this debris?" 

"Firefly's engines don't sound like that!" Virgil growled.

As Gordon was about to say something, an irritated Scott cut their chat and told them to focus back on the mission. Their elder brother was almost at the end of his rope, as both Virgil and Gordon realized. The second eldest gently reminded Scott to keep his calm, in which his brother did. He can only hope his big bro can withstand a little longer… for now.

As soon as Virgil finished the clean up, Alan and Gordon, with Scott on board for extra hands, rolled out from the pod inside the Mole. The giant drill stood at the entrance, waiting for Firefly to cross paths with her so the second eldest can join his brothers. 

Once that was done, the Mole drove again towards the clearance that was made by the anti-fire tractor. She stopped at the middle of it, her carrier then lifted her to an angle towards the ground. Her drill began spinning, her sharp propellers digging through ground as she dove into it with the help of her thrusters. Moments later, she's gone! Like a mole itself into the depths of the soil.

The brothers, with the help of John, navigated through the hard rock to the basement. 

Alan began feeling an uneasy sensation clutching his stomach. He swore he can feel his tiny baby hairs rising from his skin as they dove deeper. A wave of shiver echoed through his body, his legs almost clamped together. There was something wrong down there… Very, very wrong…

"Hey Sprout, what's wrong?" Asked the starman of the brothers.

The youngest shook his head and waved off, "Uh… it's nothing John."

The elder blonde gave him a narrow-eyed look before getting distracted by Scott, who told everyone that they were nearly in the basement. 

Geez, Scott was really tight on his nerves! Thought Alan...

Soon enough, they had busted through the concrete wall. Fire-protection suits on and rescue tools equipped, they ran out of the Mole (except for Virgil, just to keep an eye on the pod vehicle and he will be examining the area around her).

The whole basement was full of smoke and in big ruins. The floors was filled with huge holes and gapes. Fire was in every corner. What had happened here? This isn't caused by normal means...

Scott, Gordon and Alan scouted the areas, every room and every corner in search for any survivors. They cut through doors, putting out the flames, calling "This International Rescue! Do you need any assistance!?" But no one had answered. Only echoes of their voices through the halls… 

Alan swore he saw shadows within the flames, seemingly stalking them in every corner. He could feel his flight or fight instincts kicked in. He began to feel his desire of wanting to warn his bros! But he decided to ignore the warning… He needed to focus on the rescue… 

No one would believe him...

They had managed to find the trapped group, who were stuck in the storage area after Scott broke through one of the doors to the storage room using a laser cutter. They immediately gave the poor fellas some oxygen masks and some immediate care.

"Th-They came out of nowhere! They just appeared and attacked us!" A poor man stuttered, as they were escorted out of the storage area.

"Who's 'they'?" Asked Scott as examined for burns, scrapes and other potential fatal injuries.

The man suddenly shook as his eyes turned into giant saucers. He lifted his hand and pointed somewhere behind Scott's head and screamed, "T-THEM!!!"

Scott looked behind him... and dodged with the man at the last second the moment his corner of his eye caught a claw swinging his way!

He looked up at the mysterious attacker. Then Scott felt his blood froze at the sight… a humanoid creature standing in front of him, his head is that of a panther. Some parts of its muscular red and grey body had flames protruding from it. It wore roman-like skirt and golden cuffs, almost looking like an ancient warrior. And armed with a long, black metal claw on it's right arm. It looked nasty… deadly as it growled at the IR commander...

"What in the-..." His words had been cut off as he had to dodge again from another swing, the creature growled in annoyance.

"Gordon! Alan! Get the guys out and RUN!!!" He shouted at the top of his lungs as he ran the man with him.

As soon as they took notice of the situation at hand, the terrible two made a run for it with the rescuees. Gordon could almost feel the panic taking over his nervous system as they fled from the monster.

The panther creature walked as he swung his claw, unleashed a wave of flames that somehow reached in front of them, blocking the way with a wall of fire! They were forced to take another direction when they were faced by another monster!

It was like the fire-panther warrior, but it was bulkier and heavier, armored with a shield. And instead of having a head of a cat, it had the head of a goat!

“Guys! I have been under attack!” Yelled Virgil through comms.

"Really!? By what?!" Gordon dreaded this when Virgil answered his question.

"I had been attacked by some unknown threats! They will damage the Mole if I stay!"

"Hang on Virgil! We are on our way!" Scott ordered, as he and his team dodged a charge from the fire-goat monster.

"You better be quick! I can't stay here much longer!" It was Virgil's only reply before a deafening explosion was heard from the radio, before it was cut out!

"Virgil? Virgil?! Damn it!" Scott's blood froze, even when the adrenaline was rushing through his bloodstream. His brother… his best friend… Oh god please no…

"Come on, Scott, we better find Virgil!" Gordon snapped him out of his thoughts with a shake of a shoulder.

Right, they are still running. Running from these… things! Whatever they are, they are after their heads!

They kept on running. Running with the weight of the rescuees on their shoulders. Running with the flame creatures at their tails. They tried to stay close to the path where they came from. Back to the Mole… if she's still there… They are growing tired but they keep on going. Even if they had to dodge the flaming claws of the panther monster and the flaming horns of the goat monster.

They were just near their destination when the floor in front of them collapsed! Alan nearly dropped along with a guy just as Gordon caught them in time. But the respite was short, as two new humanoid fire-monsters flew out of the crevasse! One was a cobra, skinny but agile, armed with a fire staff. And the last one was an armored dragon, it's flaming sword in hand and it's fiery wings nearly fried the poor group.

"We're dead! We are so dead!" Wailed one of the poor rescuees, clinging on for dear life on Alan.

"Not yet..." Scott grunted, as the monsters closed in. "Gordon! Go this way with Alan and the rescuees! I'll distract them!

"Are you crazy?! Ya going to get yourself killed!" Warned Gordon as he grabbed his eldest brother's arms. He held it tightly, fear radiating from his eyes.

"No time, just run!" Scott shook off his brother's grip violently and ran towards the other direction. Some of the creatures got his attention and went after him.

"Scott! Come back, you Cloud Idiot!" Gordon nearly lost his professionalism as he yelled at his eldest brother, but his brother had already vanished into the flames of hell.

The prankster of an aquanaut cursed under his breath and ordered Alan continue running to find another way of escape with the rescuees, while the remaining monsters were at their tails.

The Earth shook all of the sudden. Cracks formed on the wall, Gordon halted the run to avoid potential debris from falling on them. Then a familiar drill broke through, her almost burned, yellow hull pulled from the dirt, dust and debris. Her hatch opened, revealing a certain ruffled up mechanic.

"Virgil! You're okay, ya big son of a devil!" Gordon almost cried out of joy.

"Come on, buddy! Get the rescuees in here quickly!" Virgil urged, smiling a little. 

"But... what about Scott?" Alan asked, giving his second big brother worried puppy eyes.

"We'll get him!" 

As soon as they settled, the rescuees secured the medbay and the terrible two seated and seat belt on, the mechanic attempted to move the Mole again. But she made some noises of a broken mechanism. He pulled the ignition again... Same thing... And the digger hasn’t moved an inch. A moment of realization...

"Damnit, the Mole broke down!"

"Are you kiddin' me!" His fish brother gaped at him, sweat and dust pouring from his face with worry. Alan sat where he was, gulping almost.

Virgil glared at the scanner, noticing two figures approaching the Mole. He won’t have time to fix her if those things are going to make things worse! Not until the blonde daredevil suggested that they should distract the monsters while Virgil repaired the Mole.

"You are not going out there shooting these bastards all by yourself, Sprout! I’m coming with you!"

"Alright! But please don't take chances!" Virgil warned seriously as he began work on the repairs. He just hope his brothers won't do anything stupid.

The terrible two pulled out their guns and let out battle cries as they began shooting the monsters, getting their attention. Together, they stayed close as they ran, getting their attention away from the broken down digger. It was a battle they didn't expect to deal with in a rescue. But, they had no other choice. They have to get out and get Scott as soon as the Mole was in a working order.

From time to time, either Gordon or Alan asked how long or what needs to be fixed. They get a response that either one or some of the gears fell off, or some circuit got fried.

They are lucky that the engine hasn't got damaged.

"Hey! Come and dare to take a piece of me, ya lizard heads!" Gordon spat as he shot the snake and dragon fire-monsters. The bullets hit them, but they only let a few sparks as the charges ricocheted off their tough bodies. The squid gritted his teeth.

 He had spoken too soon!

Enraged, the dragon Monster used his flamethrower breath. The duo dodged the sting of fire, but they got separated. With a fence of flame in-between them, they got to change tactics and fast!

Just as Alan tried to run around the monsters, a familiar figure jumped in front of him! And he barely escaped its claws!

The Panther was back! Does that mean… 

Scott...

Alan realized he had dropped his gun! And nowhere to run! But then he spotted a potential weapon next to him. The young blonde picked up the piece of a metal pole and let out battlecry as he charged at the fire-panther creature and hit it with all of his might. But the pole bended on impact, much to his horror. The creature grinned at him as he swiped him with its muscular arm, sending the youngster to fly and land hard.

When it began approaching Alan, multiple gunshots was heard as the sparks fly off the back of the monster. This got its attention away and turned to the one responsible for the intervention: Scott! 

He was breathing heavily like a bull, the flames that reflected on his cobalt irises revealed a thundering rage. He held his gun tightly in front of him, arms stretched out towards the face of the menace.

He had enough...

"Don't you dare…" Scott growled.

The fire panther-humanoid flexed its shoulder as he approached the blue sashed commander, as the latter continued to shoot it. Realizing that the charges weren't doing much to fire-monster, Scott decided to change strategy.

The young blonde watched as his brother fighting back the creature. It ignited his desire to help his big brother.  He can't just stand there and do nothing! He just can't! 

But he was caught by surprise when the goat monster reappeared! He was pushed by its big shield, sending him flying towards a crevasse! He grabbed the edge just in time, his hands tightly taking hold of the , his tiny feet dangled over the deep depths of death.

"Alan!" Cried Gordon. He tried to run to the rift to save his little brother, but he got blocked by the goat, snake and dragon fire-monsters! Ready to cook some fish meat!

Scott wasn't having a great time. His ammo ran out as he was distracting the panther monster. He got close calls with the amount of fireballs and flaming slashes thrown at him. He managed to barely dodge them all, but he wasn't sure how long he would last.

But that moment of pause made him regretting, as he felt himself getting grabbed by the neck and lifted to the air, his eyes took a glance of the ugly face!

Oh shit...

Alan was hanging for dear life as he was watching his poor big brother getting thrown around like a puppet with its strings cut off. His hands are getting numb, his arms losing strength, hopeless to do anything but to expect the inevitable doom. Of himself, of his brothers, of the rescuees...

“SCOTT!!!” cried Alan as he saw the creature was about to slice his big brother to ashed pieces.

It lifted its nasty claws, and as if by magic, they ignited with nightmarish fire. The monster’s eyes glowed as it grins down at him, having finally cornered his weakened prey. Then, it swung its arm at Scott, where the latter shut his eyes, welcoming the fiery demise! Or was he…?

Its flaming claws barely touched his face when a sudden roar of the engine echoed through the walls. The creature stopped and looked over Scott as its face transformed from an evil smug to a surprised worry.

Scott Tracy followed its gaze and saw a dark figure beyond the inferno. It was approaching fast as the sound of a motorcycle grew louder and louder.

The creature took a panicked double-take before a gold and red bike flew over Scott and hit it, causing it to fly a few meters away from him! The strange motorcycle then landed in between them. The field commander nearly gasped when his eyes processed the shape of the mysterious rider...

No… not just a rider… a Kamen Rider!

-0-0-0-

[kookicat]

Control the Storm

Control the Storm

She's seen them all through an injury or two, from the minor to the holy shit life threatening accident that made her heart crawl up into her throat. She knows them, knows Casey gets nausea when he's shocky, knows Severide seems fine right up to the point where he crashes, knows that if the boys are bitching and complaining they're okay. It's when they go quiet that she starts to worry. Which is why something about the way Casey retreats to his quarters after the call set her spidey sense tingling.

She follows, slowly, in case she's wrong and he's fine and just taking a shower. The pinch in her gut is insisting otherwise and she wouldn't be half the paramedic she is without listening to it. They all know the drill but occasionally someone will try to slide an injury past the medics. It's not usually Casey though.

The blinds are drawn in his quarters and the low level anxiety she's been feeling spikes into something sharper. She taps her knuckles sharply on the door and waits, counting impatiently to ten before she eases the door open.

"Casey?" she asks and gets a groan in return. It sends a spike of ice through her and she has to swallow past it before she can speak again. "What's going on?"

He's curled up on the bed, one arm clamped over his eyes, the other gripping the pillow under his head so tightly that his knuckles are white. What skin she can see is pale and clammy, jaw clenched so hard she's surprised that his teeth aren't creaking. His shoes are in a haphazard pile by the bed and one socked foot is digging in the bed.

"Slyvie?" he mumbles.

"Yep," she says and eases down next to him. He looks worse up close, not just pale but exhausted, with shadows etched deep under his eyes. "Migraine?"

"Yeah," he grates out, and swallows hard.

They've been through this before, a couple of times, and they've found a routine that works. This is the worst I've ever seen him with them though, she thinks.

"Okay," she says and rubs his back gently. "Does the chief know? Did you get your meds?"

"Yes and yes," he mumbles and covers his eyes a bit more tightly. Even the dim light in the room feels like it's a blowtorch slicing straight into his brain.

She can tell that talking hurts but she needs to know. He licks his lips and swallows, gulping and she knows he's going to puke. There's a bag lined trash can next to the bed already and he rolls towards it blindly. She gets her knees on the bed behind him, supporting him, and feels his muscles get tighter with every dry heave. Beads of sweat dot his face, clinging to his eyelashes. His hands are fisted in the sheets, hanging on to them like he's in a storm and they're all that's keeping him from being washed away.

She rubs his back, knowing she needs to grab supplies before he gets any worse. But I don't want to leave him alone like this, either. The retching subsides and she reaches for the bottle on the nightstand next to the bed, offering it to him.

"Fuck no," he says faintly and pushes it away. "It'll set me off again."

"Just wet your mouth," she says and offers it again. Dehydration is one of his main triggers and usually he's good at staying hydrated. The fire had been a bad one and they'd all been dripping with sweat before it was under control. She'd pressed a bottle of water on him, even seen him drink it. His electrolytes are probably off, she thinks and stands, leaving Casey curled on his side.

"I'll be right back," she says and hurries to the ambulance, grabbing what she needs. Two banana bags, a dose of Zofran for the nausea, and a couple of ice packs. She fills her pockets with IV supplies and gloves and grabs a dose of Toradol. He normally manages without it but this one is bad, and the meds will help.

Severide is heading into his quarters when she starts back with the supplies. He stops, eying them and the closed blinds on Matt's side, one eyebrow lifting. "What's going on?"

"Migraine," she says and bites her lip. "If this doesn't help, it might be a hospital job."

Worry creases his face. "That bad? What can I do to help?"

"Grab some blankets? And ask the chief to take 61 out of service for a couple of hours?"

Taking Ambo off duty is a lot to ask, and she knows that. She also knows that Casey needs her help and there are plenty of other paramedics to pick up the slack for a bit while she gets him over the worst of the migraine. None of them want him to end up at the ER.

"Sure thing," Severide says and ducks past her, heading towards the laundry room where they keep a stack of freshly laundered supplies.

She opens the door, eyes fixed on the bed. Casey hasn't moved, still curled on his side, breathing a little strained. Just looking at him makes her hurt in sympathy. The lines of pain on his face could have been carved from stone. His shirt is a little damp where he's been sweating and he's shivering a bit in the cool air.

"Hey," she says, pitching her voice low, and kneels by the bed. "If you can roll on your back for me, I've got some stuff that'll help."

He blinks, visibly gathering his strength and eases over onto his back, one hand flexing at his side. His head feels like it's going to explode, and part of him wishes it would, put him out of his misery. Saliva floods his mouth and he knows he's going to throw up again. He's helpless against the wave, can barely turn his head before it swamps him and he's losing what little has remained in his stomach.

Brett turns him just in time, pressing a sick bag to his mouth, rubbing soothing circles on his back. He's chalky pale apart from the bright spots of colour on his cheeks and his pulse is racing with the effort. His stomach convulses one last time and he turns his head, one shaking hand coming up to rub his mouth. There are galaxies stampeding through his brain, tearing him apart and he needs it to stop before there's nothing left of him.

"Here," Sylvie says and activates a cold pack, wrapping it in a drape and presses it into his hand. "See if this helps." She seals the sick bag and drops it in the bin.

He fumbles the ice pack up to his forehead. The cold is instantly soothing and it takes the edge of the pain enough for him to crack his eyes open, watching as she lays out the supplies. Aura makes the room swim in his gaze and he swallows miserably as nausea starts to churn in his stomach again. He's pretty sure there's nothing left to come up.

"This is going to pinch," she warns as she slips some gloves on and opens the IV kit. He needs fluids and she's picked a larger bore than she'd normally use.

"Just do it," he mumbles, tugging the ice pack down so it covers his eyes and blocks out the light. He shivers, suddenly cold, suddenly wishing that he was at home in his own bed. He can't remember a time when he was this miserable.

Sylvie squeezes his arm. "Hang in there, Matt. I got ya." She deftly places the IV in his forearm, wincing when he flinches, then tapes it down and disposes of the needle. She hooks up the first bag and gets it running. "Okay, here comes the good drugs," she says and injects them both through the IV. "Just some Toradol for the pain and Zofran for the nausea."

It's a cocktail he's had before and he knows that it works. Some part of his brain is grateful that she's remembered, because he's in no state to tell anyone anything about his medical history.

The meds wash through him, already blunting the pain. A wave of lethargy follows it and he gives into it gratefully, letting it pull him into a doze. It’ll take real deep sleep to shift the migraine entirely but he’s not there yet, as much as he longs for the oblivion it would provide.

The door to his quarters opens and he fights the urge to open his eyes, sit up, to see who else is seeing him in this state but the pull of the drugs wins out and he lets go, floating somewhere between waking and sleeping.

“Here,” Severide says, keeping his voice low, and passes a couple of blankets to Sylvie. “How’s he doing?” The other man looks like hell and it hurts that he can't do anything more to help.

“Better than he was.” She takes them and shakes one out over Casey. The room is chilly and she knows that if he’s cold, he won’t get the sleep he so desperately needs. The sight makes something catch in her chest and she covers it by unfolding the other blanket and putting it over him too. “He had me worried, this time.”

“He’s got us all worried.” Severide rubs his face, then shakes his head. “Damn man has more lives than a cat.” He sighs, unable to keep his eyes from drifting to his best friend’s face. “Boden has cover for you and Casey for the rest of shift. He says to finish up any outstanding paperwork.”

The ball of tension in her gut eases slightly now she knows she won’t be pulled away from her patient on a call. “Thanks.”

Severide nods. “No problem. Matt makes sure we’re alright. We owe him the same decency.” He pats her shoulder. “Let me know if you need anything.”

"I will," she says and gives him a brief smile as he ducks out of the door, closing it gently behind him.

Matt's eyes are closed and his breathing is slow and regular but she knows that he's not asleep. There's enough tension in his jaw to crack walnuts and she'd put good money on his neck and shoulders being the same. It's where he carries his stress and it isn't helping his migraine to go away.

She rubs her hands together, debating whether a back rub would cross any boundaries.

He shifts on the bed, the movement dragging a pained breath out of his chapped lips and she decides that she doesn't care. She lifts the chair and carries it to the bed, setting it down.

"Hey, Matt," she says and touches his arm.

It takes him a few seconds to open his eyes and when he does, they're slightly dazed as they track to her face.

Whoops, she thinks maybe he was more asleep than I thought.

"Sylvie?" he makes her name a question, voice rough, and she gets that strange pinch in her chest again.

"Everything's okay." She smiles at him. "I just want to try something new and didn't want to spring it on you because it means kinda getting in your face."

It takes him two tries but he eventually manages to pat her arm with his free hand. "I trust you," he says, eyes meeting hers, open and startlingly honest.

It dries her mouth in a wave of emotion that she can't quite manage to name. It fills her in a rush of warmth, bringing a lump to her throat. It's affection, more, much much more than she feels for any of her other colleagues and the implications behind it terrify and intrigue her in equal measure.

"Okay, here goes," she says, reaching towards his face with both hands. Stubble scrapes under her fingers, rasping against her skin and she suddenly wonders how it would feel against other parts of her body. The thought shocks her, brings a rush of heat to her cheeks.

"You're blushing," he mummers, sounding faintly puzzled, but his eyes are heavy lidded and he blinks, then just lets them close, too exhausted to even try to figure it out. Her fingers move in small circles on the big muscles in his jaw and he yawns, the aching tension there suddenly releasing.

Her hands move to the back of his neck, working on the long muscles there. She's leaning over him, close enough for him to pick up the subtle scent of her perfume, something soft and sweet and a little musky.

He's never noticed it before and now he has, he likes it. The tension is draining from him and he's on the edge of sleep, head still throbbing but in a distant, disconnected way that's much more bearable.

"How are you doing?" she asks, fingers working away at a knot at the base of his skull.

Between the migraine and the drugs and the fact that if she keeps the massage going he's going to be asleep in about ten seconds, he can't find words so just hums in approval.

The stubborn knot finally gives under her hands and she moves on to his shoulders, feeling his breathing change as he finally gives into sleep. She eases back, not wanting to disturb him, and checks the IV bag, slowing the rate now that most of it is in him.

His body is relaxed in sleep and she knows he's likely to be that way for a while. It's been a long shift so she toes her shoes off and props her feet on the bed next to his hip, tipping her head back to rest against the chair back, intending just to rest for a moment before she gets up and finds her paperwork. Sleep steals over her before she knows it.

Minutes or hours later, Severide eases the door open, having been sent by Boden. They're both still asleep and he backs out, retrieving another blanket before returning to throw it over Sylvie.

The sight of them napping is precious and he takes a quick pic on his phone before leaving them to it.

Shift change rouses Matt and he blinks, spreading a moment catching his bearings, mouth quirking into a smile at the sight of the sleeping woman.

"Hey," he says, and tweaks her foot, waiting until her eyes open. "Thank you."

She smiles, still sleepy, and it's the cutest thing he's seen in a while. "You're welcome."