#give me a week and you will probably only see habit posting for the next month because he's been creeping back up to the surface recently

[boxx-cutterz]

i have been spinning them in my brain like a plate of mac and cheese in a microwave for the last two months

[fireinmoonshot]

idea for a tyler owens one shot. he broke off the relationship years ago and then you see each other again. maybe you go out for drinks and one thing leads to another. kinda inspired by the song bad idea right by olivia rodrigo.

A/N: Thank you so much for sending this request in. I'm sorry it took me like a week to get around to writing and posting. I hope you like it. I honestly had so much fun writing this one. I'm not sure how closely inspired it is by the song, but I tried my best to give it that same kind of vibe! 😊💗

You knew that going home was probably a bad idea, but it’d been years since you’d gone back and after a particularly hard couple of months, home was the only place you wanted to be – even with the threat of seeing Tyler around. That’s why, when you’d gone out with friends two nights ago to celebrate your return to town, you hadn’t been surprised to run into him.

The two of you had exchanged pleasantries, saying a quick hello before you’d headed back to your friends. You weren’t avoiding him, but you weren’t particularly interested in a conversation with him either. After all, he had been the one to break things off between the two of you a few years ago. 

It’d been a fairly amicable break-up, but that didn’t mean you wanted to be best friends. Especially since you hadn’t seen him in years. 

You’d assumed that the one interaction at the bar would be the only one. That you likely wouldn’t see him again before you headed back home or before he headed off chasing storms again. Until you woke up to a text the next morning. 

It was nice seeing you again last night. Would you wanna catch up over a drink?

Every fibre of your being told you to say no, but somehow you’d texted Yes back. 

You didn’t put too much effort into your appearance or dress up to meet him at the bar he’d suggested – one you used to go to a fair bit when you’d been together. You hadn’t been there since. Tyler had seen the best and worst sides of you, so you knew he wasn’t going to care if you showed up in your best outfit or your pyjamas. 

It was the smile he gave you when you walked towards the bar and saw him waiting outside for you that made you question whether thiswas a bad idea. You pushed down the feeling in your stomach – the same one you used to get around him before. 

“So, how’s the city treating you?” Tyler finally asked when you were both sat down inside, a drink in front of each of you. “Not being tempted into moving back home?”

You laughed and shook your head. “No, it’d have to take a miracle to bring me back home, I think. The city is nice. I wouldn’t call it home, but it’s as good as these days.” You decided to refrain from telling him about the stressful few months at your job, as well as some drama with your landlord. He didn’t need to know about those things.

Tyler, though, had always been able to see through you.

“It’s nice? It’s as good as home? I’m not convinced.”

You stared at him for a moment. He could still do that, even after not seeing or speaking to you for years? It felt like the time had never passed between you, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not. You leant towards not, and you knew your friends would agree. 

And… was it possible for Tyler Owens to have gotten more attractive?

“How’s the team? Have you blown up on Youtube yet?” You decided to attempt to change the topic before you got off track or before you said something you’d probably end up regretting. Tyler had asked you out here tonight to catch up, not to rekindle. 

Tyler let out a long sigh, obviously irritated with you changing the subject, and then  switched, his annoyed expression breaking into a grin. “You mean you haven’t been keeping up with our Youtube channel? C’mon, darlin’, we’ve got a million subscribers and you’re telling me you’re not one of them?”

“I’m really not,” you couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “I don’t make it a habit to keep up with what my ex-boyfriends do, funnily enough. But I’m glad to hear the channel has worked out for you guys. I guess there’s a real market for storm chasing these days.”

“I mean, I tried to keep up with what you were doing, but Boone eventually convinced me to stop once he caught me checking your Instagram right before a chase,” Tyler laughed softly, then paused, as if he was surprised at himself for admitting that right to your face. “Anyway, Youtube is going well and the team are great. Storm season starts soon, we’re all hoping it’s gonna be a good one.”

You paused, your drink half way to your mouth. “You check my Instagram?”

“Key word there was checking, darlin’,” Tyler said. “But yeah, at the start, of course I did. I broke up with you, you left not long after. I had it in my head that I was the reason you moved away, even though you told me I wasn’t, but I still wanted to know that you were okay, that the city was all right and that you were safe.” 

The desire to come clean and tell Tyler everything about your life in the city had never been stronger. You wanted to tell him about your irritating landlord, about the way your refrigerator in your apartment kept breaking down and the air conditioning never worked, about how everyone at work kept looking down on you despite your experience, about the fact that you’d been on so many dates in the last few years since you moved, but none of them came close to Tyler. 

But you couldn’t.

Instead, you took a very long drink from your glass and then sat it back on the table. All the while, Tyler looked at you, reading you with those eyes that he could see through you with. 

“Things aren’t great in the city, are they?” He asked softly.

You didn’t have to tell Tyler anything because he already knew. 

Hearing his words, the soft way in which he spoke them, and seeing the way he looked at you, suddenly became overwhelming. This man, the one you’d been in love with years ago, the one you used to tell everything to, the one who used to be your home, was sitting right in front of you again and making you feel like you mattered again, after months of being made to feel invisible in the city.

“Will you excuse me for a second?” You didn’t give Tyler a chance to respond before you were up, making a beeline for the front door, desperate to get some air. If you stayed in that bar any longer, you were sure you’d end up making a bad decision. If Tyler kept looking at you like that and making you feel like the version of yourself you were years ago, you worried you were going to become that person again. 

You let out a breath of relief as you stepped outside the bar, the cool evening air hitting you. It was still spring, the air not quite cold but nice enough to be refreshing on your skin as you walked to an emptier spot just down the street, away from the crowd which had spilled out of the bar the later it got in the night. 

It didn’t come as a surprise to you that Tyler followed you. He always wanted to make sure you were okay when you had been together, and that clearly hadn’t changed, especially with the way he’d just been talking to you. 

He sidled up beside you, making sure to give you enough space, knowing that you needed it. “Sweetheart,” he started. “I know I’m probably the last person you wanna talk to right now, but you know you can talk to me, don’t you?”

You met his eyes and nodded. 

“I know I’m your ex, but I still care about you. Probably more than I should.”

You’d never wanted to kiss a man more in your whole life.

“Why more than you should?” You asked, taking a step towards him and noticing the way the look in his eyes changed as he looked at you. 

“Because I should’ve moved on by now.”

“But you haven’t?”

Tyler swallowed. “It’s only ever been you.”

In that moment, nothing could stop you from closing the distance between the two of you, cupping Tyler’s cheeks in your hands and pressing your lips to his. Tyler was quick to kiss you back and you could tell that for the both of you, it was just like coming up for air after years of drowning without each other.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close to his body as his lips moved against yours, tongue sweeping across your bottom lip. The fact that you were out on a public street, not far from a crowded bar, didn’t cross either of your minds. All that you could think about was each other and the feeling of each others lips.

When, eventually, you needed to stop for a breather, Tyler rested his forehead against the top of your head, his breathing heavy. “I take it we’re not just talking tonight, darlin’?”

“Not tonight,” you admitted. “We probably shouldn’t have done this, y’know?”

“I know,” Tyler agreed. “But if you think I’m ever letting you go again, you’re wrong.”

You let out a small laugh. “I said it’d take a miracle to bring me back home, Ty.”

His face broke out into a grin. “Didn’t I tell you miracle is my middle name?”

[itsnotbird]

Ghosting

Post!Hydra Dark! Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

‘I’ve been ghosting…I’ve been ghosting along, ghost in your house, ghost in your arms.’

Summary: Maybe his tendencies are odd, but maybe the two of you are just meant to be? He doesn’t want to be the ghost that looms around, but what choice does he have?

Warnings: Stalking, dark themes, 18+ content, not intended for minors! Reader gets harassed in the beginning, Bucky is…he’s a little crazy but he means well. Isn’t he so dreamy? Trust the process here.

A/n: I had this idea and I’m going to poorly execute it! Not cannon whatsoever, post Hydra/Winter soldier Bucky but…old habits die hard.

“You want to come back to my place?”

You scrunched your nose. “That’s um…that’s a kind offer, Connor, but I’m kinda tired.” You politely say as you leave the restaurant.

It’s a bold offer for him to make after a first date- a lousy first date. He made you pay half the bill, made subtle comments about your choice of outfit, talked about himself the entire time. Now, he has the audacity to ask for a lousy hook up.

He looks at you with a confused smile. “No? Oh…okay.”

“I don’t know if you were…expecting something but…I just don’t think we’re the best match.” You say honestly.

He scoffs like he can’t believe what he’s hearing. “Okay, wow, um…I was trying to be nice because you’re clearly desperate-”

“Desperate?” You choke out a dry laugh.

“-but hey, go ahead and be a tease, that’s fine.”

“What?” You squint, shaking your head. “I’m sorry, I’m a little confused.”

“Yeah, it probably doesn’t take much.” He says with a serious look.

“Wow, what a wasted night.” You say to yourself.

“Yeah tell me about it, you sat there going on and on about your parents and I’m not even going to get head? Hey, newsflash! Your parents are probably just disappointed they have a screw up of a daughter. Seriously, you’re so fucking boring.”

You huff in disbelief, not able to wrap your head around how mean his words are.

“I’m gonna go.” You say. “I hope you can find a decent personality.”

As you turn, walking back in the direction of your apartment, he shouts a few choice words in your direction. You only wrap your coat around you tighter.

Though you hate it, tears burn your eyes. Silently crying in the dark, you place a call to your best friend.

“Hey! How was the date?” She asks in a cheery tone.

Immediately you sniffle. “Pretty bad.”

Your soft sobs echo off of brick walls, all the way up to Bucky sitting on the roof of the building you pass. The sound is enticing, causing him to look over the edge at your figure.

Somehow, he knows that he should just stay where he is, it’s really something he doesn’t need to get involved with.

But…he finds himself hopping over to the next roof, following you. It’s like he’s enticed to do it. Part of him - the small part that’s still sane- recognizes how crazy and creepy he’s being.

The much larger part of him doesn’t give a fuck.

Rooftop to rooftop, he’s like your shadow, listening to your conversation, watching the surroundings around you to make sure you don’t get hurt. He aches for you, utterly displeased that you are upset. Which is a crazy idea because he knows nothing about you.

Well, not for long.

See, it’s like the universe is on his side. Because though he’s not trying to keep track of you, you’re constantly crossing his path. Over the next week, he quickly learns your schedule. He learns that you leave your apartment building at 8am to go to work at the overpriced coffee shop down the street, you usually get off at 3pm. Then your night plans alternate, one night you go to a college class, the other you go to a friend’s house where you don’t come back until very late.

You grocery shop at a Whole Foods, you don’t shop for yourself, you like music, you play the guitar. He watches you open your apartment window and sit on the sill, smoking a cigarette once in a while and that’s how he knows you’re stressed.

At first, he ran into you purely by chance.

But it became almost too easy to pin you down when you lived the same, boring life.

On the coming Saturday, you go on another date. He doesn’t know this until you and the man come into the bar he’s in.

You look gorgeous, like always. You seemed to have this classic elegance about you, and this guy…well, he’s wearing brown shoes and black trousers so there’s no hope.

He tries not to stare, but you laugh so beautifully and your smile is sparkling, then he’s angry because this fool is making you laugh and smile.

You have much hope for this guy, Noah is his name. He’s sweet, he’s funny, he…is so insanely boring.

But you push past it and claim that everyone is a little off on first dates. He pays for your drinks and offers to call you a cab home. What you don’t expect is for the way he grips you sharply in the alleyway of the bar, kissing you heatedly. You awkwardly laugh and try to tell him this wasn’t really your style, but he’s rather persistent.

You feel stupid. Did you give him the wrong signs? He was so good the entire night and this is how it has to end?

“Noah, wait. Wait, stop.” You say, trying push his hands off of you.

“You’re really gorgeous.” He huffs, pulling the strap of your dress down so he can suck on your shoulder.

“I- thank you but really, I don’t want you to do this.” You struggle again, only to be pushed back harder against the brick. Your head hits it and pain blooms in your skull.

“No, it’s okay.” He claims, holding your hands down.

You begin to panic, frozen in fear as you start begging him to let you go.

“Hey.” A voice suddenly says.

You look over at the man who has a very scary look in his eye.

“I think the lady wants you to stop.” He says.

Noah rolls his eyes. “Why don’t you mind your own business?”

Bucky looks at your quivering lip and determines that he can’t do that.

So he sighs, then calmly comes to grip Noah’s shoulder and rips him away from you. He stumbles back, aiming to throw a punch before Bucky stops his fist and punches him in the face, hard enough that he falls to the ground.

You gasp, fixing yourself and quickly wiping your face. The stranger turns to you, eyes searching you.

“Are you hurt?” Bucky asks.

“No. Thank you.”

He nods, then motions to the street. “I’ll get you a cab home.”

You aren’t completely sure what to do, it was all so strange. Looking back to Noah on the ground, you quickly get away from him, trusting this stranger more than anything now.

He does exactly what he says and hails you a cab, watches you get in and shuts the door behind you.

There are no other words spoken.

You drive away and that’s where it’s left.

Or so you think.

In all actuality, that little interaction has been fueling his growing obsession. He’s paying closer attention, in every shadow, you could find him there. But you never do.

From the fire escape, he sometimes- lots of times- he sits when he can’t sleep. He sits on the ledge, concealed in darkness, and silently observes you. Bucky determines that you were strategically placed in his life, you had to be.

The universe was never on his side, so why was he being rewarded now? If he didn’t understand it, it’s because his brain is still trying to connect wires back together. Oh but it does make sense, you’re this shining star, you’re the lark bird with a broken wing and who is he? He’s the man to help.

He recognizes the look in your eye, the gaze that searches for salvation in every person, he knows desperation because it’s been under his mask for years. He could be your savior.

He is.

No, no he won’t force anything. You’ll have to ask, admit that you strive for something other than the cards you have been dealt. But you couldn’t do that if you keep ignoring your ghost.

He’ll pull the sheet off of his head, that’s what he’ll do. He’ll strategically plan the way your paths will cross again, like any good soldier does, and it’s going to open that shut door. He won’t have to look for an open window anymore, physically or metaphorically.

Saturday night. You’re dressed up. You leave your flat in heels and a backless dress. You should really put on a coat, that shall around your shoulders won’t keep the chilly air away.

He watches from the adjacent roof top, he makes sure you get in your cab alright.

He knows you’re going to your best friend’s birthday night out at the city’s newest jazz club, a very elegant place, he’s heard you discussing it with her for weeks.

That’s where he’ll be.

Dressed the part in a suit he’s lifted from the dry cleaners, he’ll lurk around the bar, hide within the crowd, stay far away from the dance floor.

Nostalgia seems to make him feel a little sick, the music, the theme, everything seems to be reconnecting him to the boy he was before.

James Buchanan Barnes. That’s who he needs to be now. Charming and all smiles and smooth talking, he could do, can’t he?

Irritation bites at his nerves when opportunity doesn’t present itself for a while. You seem glued to your star-of-the-show best friend. He admires your loyalty, your blind adoration for a woman who tends to brush you off often for much more interesting people.

How dare she? If you were stitched to his side, he’d never make you feel pushed out, he’d give you his attention, he’d make sure you knew you were the most important thing in the room.

He’s bitter now.

He needs a drink. The idea of it soothes more than the alcohol does, given the fact he could drink three entire bottles before feeling something. That’s a painful disadvantage of the serum in his blood, he couldn’t even effortlessly get drunk to forget his troubles.

At the bar, he orders whiskey neat and pushes his hair back in a huff.

“Hi, could I get another glass of champagne?”

There it was, that voice that’s better than every song being played here.

You stand beside him, smiling at the bartender.

“Actually.” You change your mind. “A Martini, please. No- just a double Tito’s with three olives. Please.”

The barman chuckles at your request and begins to make it for you.

You’re here, all elegant in your green silk dress that compliments your eyes, smelling like your nice perfume, the one you spray on your wrists and behind your ear. Suddenly, Bucky is at a loss of words.

He’s waited around all night and you’re finally here.

You sigh in dissatisfaction, it’s a noise he never ever wants to hear from you ever again.

“Thank you.” You thank the barman again as he slides your drink to you.

Bucky watches you take a sip, he envies the martini glass for the way your lips wrap around the rim. Your eyes shut as you taste the alcohol, dark lashes flutter together and you look just like a doll.

“Rough night?” He questions.

You face him, an excuse on your lips but you pause when you recognize him.

“No, no my evening has been fine. I’m sorry, you look so familiar. Have we met?”

He thinks it’s cute the way you pretend you don’t remember him.

“Briefly, I believe. Outside of the-”

“Outside that bar. Right. You…helped me.” You state, obviously feeling a little embarrassed even though he isn’t sure why you would be.

“That guy was a dick, don’t worry about it.” He says, drawing your eyes back to him.

“Thank you…most people would’ve just kept walking.” You say, genuine tone, vulnerable face.

“Most people suck.”

You laugh, and it’s the best sound he’s known. He smiles, watching you tuck away a strand of hair that has fallen from your updo.

You introduce yourself now, giving him your name to hold, not like a secret.

“I’m James.” He says.

“James.”

His name has belonged on your lips for over a hundred years.

“I like that name.” You determine, sipping on your drink. “What brings you here tonight, James?”

He’s quick to think on his feet.

“A failed double date.”

You give him a questioning look.

“How was it failed? She wasn’t a damsel in distress?” You joke, and he smiles at your smile.

“No, she left with another man. Honestly, it’s fine, I wasn’t interested in her.” He lies, adoring the pout you gain on his behalf.

“That’s a shame, you seem like great company, James.”

He hasn’t been told that for as long as he can remember, well, he can’t remember much, actually. But he does know that he loves getting to know you face to face, not just learning from a distance. There would never be a distance again, he knows this, feels it in the way you accidentally touch his arm as you laugh in conversation.

You feel as if you’ve known him for ages, you haven’t but he sure knows you.

“Why look so drab if you’re celebrating your best friend’s birthday?” He asks, watching you toy with your empty glass before the bartender takes it away.

A sigh leaves your perfect lips. “I’m happy, of course I am…I just, well, sometimes I get looked over. It’s fine, it’s not my night, it’s hers…but somehow it happens very often when her and I go out. I suppose it’s just easy for people to forget I’m around, especially her when she has so many people’s attention.”

He shakes his head, you might as well have confessed to a crime. Those words shouldn’t have left your mouth.

“You’re not easy to forget.” Bucky tells you, his clear, blue, eyes heavy in yours. “In my opinion, you’re much more memorable and-and admirable than her.”

He hasn’t spoken this much in forever, he’s surprised he remembers words as big.

You blush at his compliment. “Really?”

“Really.” He coos. “Girls like her are a dime a dozen, but not you. I could tell from the moment I saw you, you have something far more interesting than her.”

You selfishly let his words flatter you for a moment.

“She’s my best friend since high school, she’s really been there for me so for that I am grateful but…well, she has a tendency to make me a sidekick. I don’t like being Robin.” You laugh.

Bucky pretends he knows who you’re talking about.

“You deserve to be the hero.” He chimes.

You giggle. “I am no Captain America.”

That has him at a loss for words.

You don’t notice though. You look over to the stage, the band plays a slow throwback, a smooth jazz song.

The alcohol bas mostly calmed your nerves, and the way your best friend has yet to notice your absence, has you making an offer you’d never make.

“Are you a fan of Frank Sinatra, James?” You ask.

“Never heard of him.” He jokes, definitely finding it far more amusing than you do.

“Do you dance?” You question now, boldly taking his hand.

You haven’t figured out the deal with the gloves he wears yet, but you don’t ask in fear you’ll offend him.

And though he said he’d stay far from the dance floor, he’s blindly guiding you to the space where the others sway, it’s like he’s enchanted by the low lighting on your skin, or the way you’re so willing to let him in. He’s not even sure he remembers how to dance, but he falls right into the rhythm like it’s always been with him.

Gentle, he’s oh so gentle with you, you have no clue how much he’s thinking about the touch he’s giving you.

It’s you who gets flirty, hand sliding over his shoulder to gently hold the back of his neck, you gently press into his rather broad frame.

You can see the way your best friend’s eyes finally find you, and she’s immediately curious.

You’re immediately frightened.

She’s going to want him, she’s always had the same taste as you.

You let out a shaky breath and look away.

“What’s wrong?” He immediately asks in a protective tone as he feels you go rigid in his hands. His defense is up, he looks around the room for a threat.

“Nothing, sorry. I’m sorry, I’m okay.” You let out a soft laugh, laying your head on his chest.

The action immediately distracts him.

Here you were, falling right into him like you were meant to, his perfect girl.

He tucks that loose hair behind your ear, he lets his fingers gently trace down your spine until he comes back to hold your waist.

“Your heart’s beating pretty fast.” He says close to you, not thinking about the possibility of you asking just how he could tell.

“I’m trying not to step on your shoes.” Is all you say with a fleeting giggle.

As the song closes, you’re in some sort of dream land. It’s not the alcohol, even if it was a strong drink, it’s all him.

That elated feeling continues as he pulls you away from the crowd, and it dissipates right when your best friend finds you.

“There you are!” She smiles at you. “I see you’ve made a friend.”

You should just go home.

“This is James.” You say, watching them greet each other.

“It’s my birthday, James.” She tells him in her tipsy tone.

He looks at her birthday sash and nods. “I can see that. Happy birthday.”

“Thank you. You can give me a gift later if you want.”

You should really just go home and put on your sweats and a movie.

But then you feel his hand on the small of your back.

“We’re actually going for a stroll.” He says, because what else is he to say? That your friend’s actions aren’t attractive? How she comes on far too strong in the worst way? Perhaps he’s only in this mindset because he can see the way your face fell when she posed a threat.

She’s no threat, sweet girl. No one is a threat to you, ever, not now that I’m here.

He says it with his eyes as you look up at him in question. The gentle nod he offers has you easing. A stroll sounds nice.

You find yourself agreeing? How is it so easy to agree and tell your friend good night? It’s as easy as your hand around his- large- bicep as the two of you walk the glimmering night streets of the city.

He makes you feel so…secure. Maybe this is how girls get kidnapped and turn up dead in alleyways, but you feel the need to trust him with your life.

You feel the need to grow obsessive over every word and touch he gives you.

Maybe that’s how you end up showing him your apartment. He acts like he’s never seen it before.

And he has not one intention on things going further- well, maybe just one. But he’s a perfect gentleman, drinking the coffee you make him, complimenting your music collection, asking about the instrument in the corner.

It’s all you who gets closer.

And as your lips touch, you can’t help but think this is insane.

You should pull away, but then he grips your waist and deepens the kiss and you completely lose your mind.

He’s a stranger in your home, on your lips.

But is he really?

“I’m sorry.” You immediately say when he pulls back and turns his head away. “I-I don’t do this, a lot of girls say that, but I really don’t do this.”

He knows you don’t, and the fact that you’re doing it with him has him trying to control himself.

“I’m sorry.”

You apologize too much. He’s going to have to fix that.

“No, no.” He says, looking back down at you. “Don’t. It’s me, not you.”

“I’ve heard that before.” You laugh awkwardly, anxiously.

His hand comes to your cheek. “Hey, no it really is me. You’re perfect, I…am not.”

Your brows droop together. “You seem pretty perfect to me…I’m pretty sure I like you. Is that crazy?”

How sweet, how innocent.

He struggles with his emotion like he always does, too confused to put things into words, and the confusion turns into irritation and soon he’s huffing and drawing both hands to your face, like it will help.

“Not crazy.” He says. “I like you too, I’m certain of it…but I am not perfect, do you understand?”

He’s a magician, or he’s drugged you. James speaks assertively and it’s like you’re in a daze, just nodding along.

He sees that spark in your eye, in that moment his suspicions are confirmed. He’s watched you strike out on dates because you try with men who don’t understand what you need. Only he knows, only he knows you want someone to comfort and lead you. That’s how he gets you to do as he asks, which all just consists of changing out of that damn gorgeous dress and relaxing on your sofa with him. But in the long run, he knows you’ll follow with your blind loyalty and never forsake him.

He doesn’t let you be nervous, thinking he’s expecting something from you. He sits and lets you decide how close you want to be next to him, and that’s because Bucky is confident you’ll be following right along in his plan without his assistance.

You sit about five inches away from him, knees curled to your chest in your flannel pants and you bunch your sweater sleeves around your hands. When it’s supposed to be a two way conversation, you hardly notice how he lets you do all the talking.

That’s because he isn’t sure how to go about explaining things to you yet, he has to wait for the moment he’s confident you’re all in on this.

“It’s weird, I feel so comfortable around you…like I already know your presence.”

You do, you just don’t know that.

Bucky hums, then is immensely pleased with the way you draw yourself closer.

“Sometimes people are just like that. Familiar.” He says, slightly stiff as you turn to lean into his shoulder.

“I’m glad you seem familiar, James.”

That’s a statement echoing in his haunted mind, bouncing off walls as he carries you to bed and tucks you in after you fall asleep against him, it’s with him in the following days when he shows up in your life again after you had the fear you were never going to see him. You woke up and he was gone, no note, no number to call and you cried and felt pathetic and yet, here he is now.

Bucky is waiting outside the coffee shop as you come out after your shift, he looms in such a way you almost don’t see him.

“James.” You say in surprise, heart beating a little faster at the abrupt introduction of him. “Hi, I-I didn’t- were you waiting for me? Meeting someone?”

Bucky smiles at your nervousness. “I was waiting for you.”

Interactions like this become common. Before you realize it, you’re getting to know someone who has you memorized perfectly. There’s no concern on how to reach him, because he always manages to find you, he’s always there when you need him. And weeks pass and Bucky wants to hear you say his name a thousand times over, his obsession grows and you know it.

The best part? You don’t mind it. Sure, it’s an adjustment, your whole life has been a constant fight for attention. So when he’s here, physically ignoring people when you’re near him, your first reaction is to think it won’t last.

He assures you through his actions that he is here to stay, because when he wants something, he takes it.

You could classify this as dating, wouldn’t you? Those nights he takes you away to places where it’s just the two of you, those are dates in your mind. To Bucky? There what life is meant to be like forever.

A month after the meeting in the bar, you’re sitting in your lounge chair, murmuring about how much you hate your job and the fact that you can’t seem to get a better one, it’s a conversation Bucky hears often. And somewhere from the moment you’re draped over his lap and his hand nudges your chin up when you get blue, you sigh.

“You never touch me.” You say, large eyes blinking at him.

Bucky grows confused. “That’s not true.” He states.

Your head rests against his collar bone, face almost nuzzles into his neck and you reach for his hand.

“I don’t know the feeling of your skin.”

It’s in this moment that he knows you’re ready for the truth, as much of it as you can handle.

When you started to fall for James, you knew he was different, had a different energy about him. Never in a million years did you expect him to start explaining a story so dark and horrid, and it’s only the version he alters for you, not having it in him to taint your perfect mind with the entire nightmare.

He talks more than you’ve ever heard him talk, for thirty two minutes you sit in his lap with wide eyes and a pale expression, trying to wrap your head around it. You have about a hundred and one questions and can’t fully form any, you wait until he finishes, then he looks at you with something so humble and vulnerable.

“…What?” You breathe. “What!?”

You’re off of his lap, pushing the sleeves of your shirt up and starting a pace while you try to process the information. He sits there, watching you, letting you get through the shock.

“James- you know that sounds crazy, right? Metal arm, wanted by the government, over a hundred years old- crazy.”

You continue to mutter and work through the sheer fear of ‘oh God what did you just get yourself into?’, then after about eight and a half minutes, you settle.

Just like he knew you would. Because that’s the kind of woman you are, able to think things through from an alternate perspective.

You stand before him, hair tucked behind your ears and you breathe.

“I want to see.” You state, sure of it.

“Why?” He questions.

“I might not believe you otherwise.”

You believe him, of course you do, this is something that could only happen to you. The more you think about it, this story explains things. Like the way he always hold you with his right hand, how he goes rigid at the mention of things that could be triggering for him and you had no clue.

Bucky processes it, then stands.

A glove comes off, a perfectly normal, large, right hand is under it.

Then, the other.

You blink, staring at the metal that has been revealed, shiny and silver.

He swallows hard, then pulls at the hem of the henley shirt he wears. It lands on the floor and you don’t move, just let your eyes explore the new discovery. Up his right arm, toned bicep, broad shouldered, expanding chest, down his stomach and back up and then…

His head turns, he looks away when you see it, the scarred skin of his left shoulder. It’s jarred, metal meets flesh and you can’t look away.

Maybe you should be repulsed, but you aren’t. You step forward, hand raised and he flinches slightly.

“Can I? I-I’ll be gentle.” You whisper.

If you were not made just for him, you would have left already, screamed perhaps, anything but let your fingertips graze his skin with no anger or malice behind it.

He continues to look away while you explore, and even though you’re filled with curiosity, a sour feeling stirs in your stomach at the thought someone did this to him.

“What is it?” You ask, your index running down the metal, watching it flex almost human like.

“Vibranium.” He says, tone bare.

“This is like…Stark technology stuff.” You gasp, watching his fingers flex.

He lets out a shaky breath at the Stark name, you make a mental note to not speak of it again.

Your hand skims the expanse of his chest, firm, tense. Had you truly not realized just how huge he is? Down his flesh arm, fingers follow valleys of muscle until they slip right into his. His hand is warm and entirely engulfing yours.

The other, it holds the back of his neck, lost in his hair, forcing him to look down at you, just in time for you to lean up and kiss him slowly.

You’re okay with it, all of it.

Perhaps you’re secretly just as crazy as he is?

With your hand in his, he has no choice but to grab your waist with the thing he viewed as a weapon. You do not hurt, he does not maim you like he has feared, you draw closer to his body and show him kindness and comfort.

There was no going back now, you couldn’t reject him now. Not when you’re shifting your head to allow him to deepen the kiss. The sky outside could be falling and you’d still be here, barefoot in your living room, tip toed to reach him. His hand leaves yours to cup your jaw, fingers flexed into skin like he could sink claws in.

Your hot. It’s a heat that blooms inside out and you find your hand twisting in hair and the other drawing his hips closer. Perhaps your actions shouldn’t come like this after he explained how tortured he is, but he does not stop you. In fact, it’s Bucky that nips at your lip, drawing you away in shock.

“You bit me.” You state, shocked.

“Sorry.” He says deeply.

Licking your lower lip, you shake your head. “No, it’s fine.”

That had to be it, that connection he felt, it’s because you could handle insanity.

Huffing against his lips, you breathe, open mouthed into his. “Is the serum a real thing?” You question before his tongue slips to yours.

Without a word, he’s gripping your sides and pulling you up, feet dangle before your thighs trap his waist, just one arm holding you there.

Okay. Serum’s real.

It’s hot mouths on each other until you tell him to take you to your bedroom.

“Listen to me.” He says as he sits you on the bed. “Don’t give me this just because you think it’s what I want.”

Immediately you shake your head. “No, no, I want this.”

He strokes your hair. “Think this through, there’s no going back after this, okay? You’ll be tied to me, you’ll be guilty by association, if you have me this once, I’ll want to keep coming back.”

Your heart hammers inside your chest, knees press together and your lips hang apart.

“You won’t have to keep coming back if you stay.” You say, reaching out to grip the top of his jeans. “I want it all.”

Psychotic, absolutely psychotic for speaking the words you speak and mean it so deeply. How could you say such things and still look like an angel? And how could you make him feel the way he does when you do nothing at all?

Bucky’s drunk, he’s gone, he doesn’t even know if it’s him or yet another alter ego that is enjoying all of this. But he’s undressing you and feeling every single valley and curve and soft spot. His lips are everywhere, pressed to your bare skin as you trust him with the most vulnerable parts of yourself. He’s kind to you, bringing you to a point where he knows you’re going to be relaxed enough for it. It’s his fingers that draw it out, they’re warming you up, causing your head to tilt back in ecstasy.

It courses in his blood, the rush he gets from watching you twitch and moan.

There’s stars that dance across your vision, they linger and burn, especially when you start to come down from the high you haven’t felt in awhile and he’s kissing your chest while lined up to your entrance.

“You can tell me no.” He offers one last time, but you shake your head fiercely.

“I want it.” You say, hand in his hair. “Do you?”

Does he? What a silly question for you to ask. He wants your everything, he wants to lay his claim and make you belong to with him. He wants to know you inside and out, wants to feel the way you’ll shudder and cry when he pushes you off the precipice.

“Yes.” He whispers, heavy eye contact as he stares down at you. “I want this. I want you.”

Your free hand comes to gently clutch the dog tags that hang from his neck, and you’re slightly breathless as you drag him down to your lips.

“You have me, you have me.”

Those pesky wires in his brain? The ones that are half connected? Well, they’re short circuiting. Maybe the wrong ones connect, because the level of possession he feels now isn’t one he thinks is normal. As the asset, he wasn’t allowed to possess anything, he was the possession…and before? Before the war and the snowy day in Austria and everything, he was sure he didn’t feel this way.

This is new, this is entirely because of you.

One hand braced at your head, the other grips the underside of your knee, keeping it far from the other and he pushes into you, maybe too fast.

The gasp that escapes your lungs is sharp and long, your eyes squeeze shut and he mirrors your drawn brows.

“I know, I know.” He comforts. “Breathe. There you go, just like that, my girl.”

His girl.

Toes are curled into the sheets. Maybe it’s because you haven’t done this in a while, or maybe because he’s so…big. You hide in his neck, chest heaving, fingers gripping his hair in hopes of relieving the pressure.

“Am I hurting you?” He asks, trying to get you to look at him.

“I just- ah, I need a second. I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing for things.” He grunts in your ear. “We could stay like this for an hour, if that’s what you need.”

With the slight adjustment of your hips under him, you breathe out. “I-I’m okay, please, do something.”

Your normally soft voice has gained an octave, it’s bordering a whine, pinched and breathless and oh so desperate. And just like that, he slowly drags out and back in and it’s the best feeling he has ever known, better than the relief that comes after the electric shock stops.

He’s courteous, he’s gentle and slow and it’s soothing to the burn between your legs, all the way up until you get comfortable and needy for more.

Holding his jaw, you kiss him deeper, with no concern for how messy it is.

“More, please.” You say into his open mouth.

“So polite.” He teases, moving a hand up to your hip.

You choke on your inhale as he quickens his pace, driving into you in such a vulgar way, you’re threatening to arch off the mattress. But he holds you down and you take it, you take it as well as he knew you would, with nails digging into his back.

“Oh- like this. Ah, James, it’s so good.” You say, slack jawed and whiney.

You sound perfect, because you sound like this just for him. He has to grunt with a face of contortion.

“It’s because you take it so well, such a good girl.”

You blush violently at the moan that you let out, and from the way you flutter around him, he has a feeling you like the name you don’t get called often.

He might not 100% remember doing things like this, but he figures it out perfectly, encouraging you to tell him what you want and how you want it. But you’re so shy. He’s practically buried in your cervix, and you’re acting shy.

He laughs at you.

“You’re too sweet.” Is what he comments before making it his mission to figure out what it is exactly that you want.

That unserious and unspoken thought that you had to be a little crazy in order for you to be so perfect, it might just be true. Because Bucky sits back on his knees and grabs your hips, pulling them up to match the way he thrusts deeply into you, and you love it.

You love it so much, you curse and he gains a look of surprise.

His angel girl is writhing and cursing.

“Fuck, I think you’re in my stomach.” You laugh, you laugh. He’s fucking you in a way soft lovers would cringe at, and you’re laughing with pleasure.

You’re perfect.

Bucky doesn’t even know if he’s fully conscious anymore, he has to be, right? It’s not guaranteed with the haze in his head and the film over his eyes and the voice that whispers over and over.

Take, take, take. It says.

брать, брать, брать.

It sounds good in both languages.

Almost as good as the sound of you practically shouting praise. Maybe it’s intense for the first time, but nothing about this relationship was going to be subtle and calm.

You don’t want it to be.

That knot forms in your stomach, it shoots heat everywhere, your heart beats so loud you’re convinced he can hear it. Your back will ache from the way it’s arched, but it all feels too good to be a concern.

“I’m getting close.” You cry, legs shaking around him, hand over your mouth.

He leans back over you and takes the hand away, caging it to the pillow, under his.

“I want to hear you. I want to hear the noise you make when you come for me.” He tells you, hot breath mixing with yours.

You nod, wide eyes, aimed to please.

Bucky’s fingers curl with yours and that’s how he keeps your hand while the your other is damaging the skin of his back. He is no stranger to pain, and the fact you don’t mean to inflict it has his lips on your throat. His teeth graze the skin, like he’s the wolf ready to rip it apart. When he does bite the skin and you jolt at the feeling, you can only assume it’s a tic that he comes with.

His tongue presses to ease any discomfort, and hips are heavy into yours as he drives you to the point of breaking apart.

It’s high pitched and sob like, how you cry and tense against him. That hand squeezes his to ground yourself, and your head tips back, pressed into the pillow, and you lose it.

He watches in amazement and that voice is so pleased.

Mine, mine, mine.

It all pushes him overboard.

He does his best to work you through it, then he’s pulling out too fast and fisting himself to finish the job, painting across your stomach and he can’t look away.

You mourn the loss of contact, but far too overwhelmed to do anything about it. You look at him with blurry eyes, hot tears have leaked into your hair and he’s looking at the way his spend lays across your skin.

Then, deep blue eyes flick back up to yours and he’s….proud.

“You with me?” He asks in a husky tone.

You nod with a heavy head.

That’s when he finally lets go of your hand, moving to rub your cheek before he grips your jaw. Not tight, nothing to hurt you, but he grips it and your swollen lips part.

“It’s you and me now. You’re mine, do you understand?”

You shouldn’t love the sound of that but you do. So you nod, eyes heavy, skin aflame. He wipes tears, kissing you sweet and like he’s following orders, he cleans you up wordlessly.

Later, he’ll watch you sleep because you can’t fight it anymore, and he’ll know that feeling in his chest has settled. He’s a ghost with a home now, he’ll stay because you invited him in.

[cinellieroll]

☆ random obey me headcanons part 4!

satan and diavolo ♡

part one (lucifer, mammon and simeon)

part two (asmodeus, levi and barbatos)

part three (beelzebub, belphegor and solomon)

small note: last part is here wooh! i apologize i wasn't able to add the others. i just didn't know what to put for theirs bc im big idiot. i might make some of them soon tho! i'll probably make aot headcanons next but there will be delays bc exams are next week 😔 i'll also plan on putting more characters in one post next time so stay tuned!

☆ satan:

- likes friv.com, y8 games and papa games.

- picked up the habit of meowing out of nowhere when he's bored or enters his room. only does it when he's alone ofcourse because no way he'll let others see him like this. (everyone knows he does it they just don't say anything)

- he really liked enola holmes and other movies where it has detectives. it just riles him up more and more and wishes a hard ass case will just appear in the devildom already so he'll be first in the scene.

- don't get me started on how many times this man has tripped on his pile of books. he never really learned his lesson and just kept the books on the floor because he enjoys watching cats step on each one

- watches mat pat theories with you and levi. that's when he genuinely started gaining interest in games and sometimes fear he'll end up like levi one day.

- before he was able to manage his anger, he used to pull on his hair really hard. he'd have bald spots for years. thankfully he takes care of it now and it's perfectly luscious and soft.

- gets pissed when he sees people leaving pens uncapped like this is a waste of ink

- also gets pissed when his brothers leave the bathroom door open. he'll use his sleeve to cover his hand and close the door like a clean freak (i do the same thing)

- snores really loud when he sleeps on the couch. yes, the couch not his own bed. the couch.

☆ diavolo:

- he finds pleasure in buying a lot of unnecessary stuff. never learns from his lesson and just kept buying little trinkets and giving silly excuses for it.

- "but barbatos! doesn't this pig just look so cute on my office table? look! i even bought 300 packs of those tea leaves you ordered last time! isn't that great :D?"

- "my lord those tea leaves cost 100k grimm each-"

- he loves to spoil people so much it's so insane. you mentioned you like tanghulus? he ordered barbatos to make 20 of them. oh you really liked that furry coat made by a famous designer? he just bought you 5 pairs of it in different colors. your welcome.

- he likes onesies

- takes really long showers as well. he recently caught up to this thing called an "everything shower" and got invested. now he can't go on with his day without using body washes, oils and cleansers. a demon prince always has to be fresh and well maintained.

- he's always very excited to see you so when he rushes for a hug it's required to pick you up. who cares if he gets scolded by barbatos or receives a glare from belphie? you enjoy it and so does he!

- beautiful thick thighs and ass cheeks it makes me go what the fuck papi chulo

- enjoys the idea of cosplaying. doesn't care what he wears as long as gets to go out and dress up as a character. a dinosaur? sure! princess diavolo?! say less!

another note: we just reached 30 fucking followers hello??1!1(1?@? thank you so much !!! (⁠●⁠♡⁠∀⁠♡⁠)

[violetrainbow412-blog]

Day 20: reading together

Masterlist flufftober 🎀

Reblog if you liked it!

“If I didn't love you so much, I'd probably be strangling you right now,” you muttered, watching from your spot on the couch as Spencer broke the spine of the book he had just gotten.

Although you two were very skilled readers, which had brought you together in the first place, your book care habits were very different. You could stand him writing in the books and bending the pages, but the first time you saw the man break the spine of a book you almost screamed to stop him. You were the type who opened the pages only as much as necessary, loaded them into a special bag, and used only post-its and pretty bookmarkers in them.

“I already told you that this is more comfortable and gives life to the books”

“It doesn't give them life, it kills them” you sobbed dramatically, while you raised your feet a little so that he could take a seat on the couch and once he was, he took care of placing your legs on his lap “What is this one about?”

"Physics. I want some distraction”

“Oh, sure,” you laughed ironically, as if it were common to read physics books to clear your mind.

You had been reading, for a couple of weeks, The Notebook by Nicholas Sparks, because the movie was one of your favorites in your youth and you wanted to know how much the book delved into the story of both lovers.

You were used to these kinds of moments with him, because since you had started living together your literary discipline had improved, so you tried to continue with your reading while he started his.

Everything was fine until you tensed when you felt his hand coming down from the cover to hold your leg firmly. You looked down from your book and a shiver ran through you when you noticed that he was able to hold all the flesh of your limb with those hands; big, calloused, and warm, always so expert at touching you just the way you wanted. But Spencer was so focused on the book that he didn't seem aware of what he was doing to you, not even when he started to slowly stroke you with his thumb.

You tried to shake the distraction from your mind and focused on the printed lines, the only sound being the turning of the paper pages in your lover's book. Spencer's fingers traced patterns and drummed on your skin, to the point where you got used to it and stopped paying attention to the tickling he was doing with it.

“What happened to you here?” Spencer asked suddenly, feeling interrupted by curiosity to know the origin of the bump his fingers had touched. You closed your book slightly and looked up to see what he was talking about.

"That? I think it was from a fall when I was little.”

“Sometimes I'm surprised to think how many things I still don't know about you,” he murmured, with unexpected sentimentality. His hand went up and down your leg while he maintained a thoughtful attitude “You are like a book; I think I know you well enough and when I look at you again you have a different meaning or I find something new about you”

“At least I hope you don't break my spine” you laughed and you heard him laugh too. You readjusted yourself on the couch until you were sitting next to him and you placed a kiss on his cheek, so he took the opportunity to surround you from the side “No one had ever compared me to a book.”

“I like being innovative,” he said, quite proud of himself, feeling how you fit better against him.

Once again one of his hands remained busy on your body and with the other he kept the book open, taking a little more time than usual to turn the pages. You carefully opened your reading and continued to enjoy the tragic romance the story told, having your own happy romance at your side.

taglist: @navs-bhat @reidwritings @tricia-shifting14 @spencerslove @vivian-555 @r-3dlips @rhiannonhippiegirl @taygrls @simp4f1 @sdddoobydoobydoo @taintedstranger

[deesseshesca]

PAC 18+: How can you spice up your sex life with your s/o?

Now let's bring it up a notch...

Good evening, pretty souls, today I'm diving under the cover of y'all relationship to keep up with your panties/boxer.

FLASH SALE

For the next 2 weeks all readings on my ko-fi is 20$, only 

Rules and Disclaimer 

I am the type of tarot reader to say as it is. Nothing is sugar coated but everything is sent with good intention. If you are not ready to face some truth, you should vagabond somewhere else. 

MINOR DON'T INTERACT WITH THIS POST 

MINOR DON’T READ THIS POST 

TW: Sexual abuse, DV

Basing myself on the legal age in my country which is 18 

PILE 1 

4 wands, 5 swords, 3 swords, 9 swords, ‘’I’m going through a lot right now, I need some space & time to gather my thoughts !’’ 

Mutual masturbation 

Edging 

Overstimulation

💌 Your partner don't feel appreciated enough in the bedroom. They feel like u are comparing them to your past lovers. If not, they feel like they don't compare. On your side you are tired of their toxic behavior. They are not toxic is just that they are stuck in bad habits. Which is stopping y'all from evolving as a couple. You are not satisfy emotionally, they are not satisfy physically. Anyway Pile 1, if you need any advice on how to deal with situation, you can always book a reading on my Ko-fi, link down below. Especially now that they are on sales for only 20$. (Link at the end of the post)

Much love, Shesca

PILE 2 

2 pentacles, 2 swords, 4 wands, 5 wands, ‘’I look at my phone everyday hoping I would see a message from you’’ 

Cuddlefuck 

No foreplay 

Voyeurism  

Femdom 

💌I think your partner is usually the one in control. Y'all usually have some hardcore sex or even BDSM. There's a clear difference between a sub and dom energy down to even the look. One of y'all is real petite. You are probably part of the itty bitty community or you dick may be on the smaller side. Y'all are very delicate and graceful being. While he is all tall and buff or she is very curvy and way taller than u. If you initiate with a bratty attitude instead of being your docile self, is going to fire up the spark between y'all. Are y'all going camping trip or on a trip abroad with friend ? You should run your hand up and down his dick while y'all look at a movie in the living room, if they are a women, maybe play with their tits. Or when y'all back in the tent, you should initiate something knowing damm well is hella risky. It's going to excited them and finally give them a reason to do all the punishments they dream to apply on u. Since u been a good girl/boy (is not me...is them ), they only fantasy is about punishing you. Anyway if you guys need any advice how to make it happen, you can always book a reading on my Ko-fi, especially now that's only 20$ (Link at the end of the post)

Much love, Shesca

PILE 3 

Judgment, 5 swords, Page wands, 8 cups 

Check in : Babes, I'm sorry for the fuck up things you been through. You guys have a lot of sexual trauma. You spend your whole in poverty until you made the decision to become an escort or stripper. Which only added to the trauma. Some of y'all been in abusive relationship or all you life you felt like the only way someone will stay with you would be for sex. So you felt obligated to give some. But now you are in healthy relationship. The life you have now is a complete 360 of your past. Stay at home wife in the sunburn, spending most of your weekend supporting your kids hobbies. Nobody would even the guess how hard it was for you to get this peaceful life.

Dirty talk 

Nudist Event 

Power play 

💌 Now girl/boy... what's going ? Why are only serving same old missionary with the men/women you love. I can feel how deeply you love them. So you are completely comfortable around them. Yet no split on dick or feasting on the clit. No crazy lingerie. No lap dancing. No nothing. I don't know much about life but I think when u are married you can defiantly match the freak. Talk nasty to him/her, giving him/her a VIP experience and they will go crazy. Send them nasty pic, girl/boy you have all the power to spice things up. Anyway Pile 3, if you need help on tapping back into your sexual self in more healthy manner, you can always book a reading on my Ko-fi for only 20$.(Link at the end of the post)

Much love, Shesca.

7 wands, Page cups, 9 wands, 7 cups,’’Karmic partner interference’’, ‘’I’m ready to come clean ! I can’t lose you again !’’ 

Food 

Jealousy/possessiveness

Communication 

💌 You are married to someone you don't know anymore. If you know One tree hill (the best TV show in the word), y'all make me think of Quinn and her relationship with her ex-husband David. They were a time, the person on your side was loving and emotionally available. Now he is crazy about profit and barely spend time in the same room as you. Than there's him/her. They know they can treat u better than your husband/wife and is pissing them off the way things are . They dream of licking wiped cream of your nipple, ever since they saw in that sundress at the pool party or when you do your daily run with no shirt on. Anyways Pile 4, I know you are going to figure it all out but if you want insight from your spiritual team regarding this whole mess, you always book a ready on my Ko-fi. Especially now, they are only 20$. (Link at the end of the post)

Much love, Shesca.

[op-sys-chaos]

Inspired by a post by @snakeredbirdbatkatana

Tim couldn’t believe it. He’d been left behind. AGAIN.

His siblings really should’ve learned their lesson at this point. But no, they were too busy paying attention to themselves to think about Tim.

Dick had been exposed to the Morality Virus first. It removed your morality, leaving nothing but emptiness behind. He wouldn’t be held back anymore - now, he could do things like kill the Joker and avenge his brother without guilt. (It also gave you a general disdain for human life, which was a problem, but Dick could manage it. It would be fine. Right?) He was quick to infect Jason, thinking he’d enjoy the freedom. He infected Damian after, knowing Damian would enjoy being able to give into his more feral instincts.

Dick didn’t go after Cass, Duke, or Steph. Cass chose not to kill because she couldn’t stand watching people die, not with her ability. It had nothing to do with morals for her, so there was no point. Duke was too new for the family to know how he’d react to something like this. And Steph had actively chosen to reject her villain father and become a vigilante, partially because of a grudge and partially because of the adrenaline rush of vigilantism. She’s probably just pick being a hero anyway.

So obviously, Dick would go for Tim next, right?

No!

No, he started branching out to heroes outside of Gotham!

Unbelievable.

Tim hacked Dick’s computer, only to see his analysis:

Tim looks up to Bruce too much and would keep following him. Besides, he has a strong sense of morality, and would likely keep operating under it out of habit.

Did Dick really not know Tim that well? How little did his brother care about him to not notice?

Tim followed Bruce’s moral code because he didn’t have one of his own originally. He was very detached from normalcy and therefore morality as a kid. He took up Bruce’s code, following his example (not his words, mind you) down to the last detail, including being willing to leave bad people for dead if needed. But it wasn’t because he looked up to Bruce. It was because Bruce had a strong moral code and therefore was a good person to model his own after. It was convenient and reliable. Not some stupid hero worship bullshit.

Tim was so incredibly offended that his brothers cared so little that they couldn’t even tell this basic thing.

Cass noticed, of course. She read Dick’s note over Tim’s shoulder and gave him a hug.

“He doesn’t get it,” she said. “He can’t imagine why you would do be like this otherwise. He won’t consider other options.”

“He’s just… excluding me. Because he doesn’t understand me. How stupid. Everyone else had thought out reasons for exclusion, and he only wants to turn people who will kill because the virus is driving him to turn as many people as possible to create lots of killers, so those exclusions had valid reasonings. But me? Hero worship?”

“Honestly, I feel like this is a good thing to be excluded from,” Steph commented as she walked in.

“You don’t get it, Steph. It’s not that I want to be dosed-“

“You want to be seen. I get it, Tim. And I see you, but I know you want your whole family to be able to see you.”

Tim nodded.

“So how do you get them to see you, and how do you save them?” she prompted.

“…I get myself infected,” he whispered. “Act like I’m on his side. And deliver the antidote when I’m close.”

“Exactly. Can you do it?”

“Of course,” he replied.

“He will,” Cass chimed in confidently.

And that’s how, a week later, Tim ended up breaking into Dick’s apartment, alone and unarmed.

“Dick.”

“Tim? What are you doing here?”

“I’m here to prove a fucking point.”

“And that is?” Dick asked with a frown.

“That you don’t know me half as well as you think,” Tim replied, grabbing a syringe of the virus and jabbing himself with it before Dick could stop him.

“What?” Dick asked in a whisper.

It felt strange, being hit with the virus. All it really did was make him feel cold for a moment, and give him the slight nagging sense that he should start killing people. But he easily shook the feeling off by reminding himself of the code.

“Pay better attention to your siblings, asshole.”

“I… Tim, I don’t understand.”

“I don’t have hero worship for Bruce. And I certainly don’t have a strong sense of morality. I never had morals, Dick. You think I would’ve stalked Batman if I did?”

“Well well well,” Jason said, walking into the room. “Pay up, Dick. Told you you were wrong about him.”

Tim almost jumped in surprise. Of his brothers he was definitely closest with Jason, but he hadn’t realized Jason would know him well enough to bet on this.

“But he…”

“Was raised without morals. It’s obvious. He doesn’t think about moral implications until he’s already 50 clones into trying to bring his clone bestie back.”

Dick choked out a cough. “What?”

“Yeah, not my finest moment,” Tim admitted. “I was not thinking about the ethical implications of cloning, I just missed my friend. Bruce’s code is a strong and simple road map. That’s all.”

“Amazingly, I actually respect you more for that,” Damian told Tim as he entered the room. “It takes a lot of willpower to follow a code that’s not your own.”

Perfect. All of them were here.

“Thanks, Damian.”

“You are welcome. I assume your presence here means you are on our side? We have planned our first escapade.”

“What’s the plan?”

“Lure all of the currently free rogues into one spot, then blow up the building. Immediately after, blow up Arkham. Civilian casualties will be a factor, of course, but a necessary one to rid the city of evil.”

Huh. Even with no morals, they were still heroic. Interesting.

“I can help with that,” Tim said, pulling a device out of his pocket.

“What’s that?” Jason asked.

All three came closer, and Tim pushed the small red button on top. Gas instantly exploded outwards, enveloping the room.

The sounds of coughing surrounded him, and he felt the curse of the virus wash off. He didn’t suddenly gain morals, of course, but his drive to kill was gone, which was a relief.

As the smoke cleared, Tim saw his brothers sitting on the floor.

“What the…” Dick started, before clapping a hand over his mouth in horror. “Oh god, was I really planning to…”

“Yeah,” Tim replied, standing up and leaving the apartment. “Next time, pay better attention to your siblings, asshat. You would’ve known that because I don’t have morality to follow, I would stick to saving you all and saving the city. I thought we were brothers, Dick. But you proved today that I’m just another face in the crowd to you.”

With those words, Tim left. Cass, who had been waiting outside in case it went wrong, gave him a quick hug, and the pair grappled off together.

“That was AWESOME,” Steph said over comms. “You kicked so much ass, Tim. They’ll think twice before dismissing you again.”

“I hope so,” Tim whispered. “I was honestly surprised that Jason at least partially knew that I would act that way.”

“Yeah, well, Dick will think twice about underestimating you again.”

And he did. When Dick came back to the cave that night, he sat down and had a conversation with Tim, telling him about his impressions of Tim and asking him to correct anything he got wrong. To Tim’s surprise, Dick actually saw a lot more than he expected. He even picked up on the fact that Tim’s first male crush had been Kon, even if Tim hadn’t admitted it even to himself. And Dick was the only person who’d ever told Tim that they had figured out that Tim had originally modeled his personality after a book character. Dick wasn’t wrong; Tim had no idea how to act normal as a kid, and modeled himself after his favorite character. His actions changed over time, becoming more natural and more his own, but they’d still originally been based on someone else. Dick had picked up on that, to Tim’s amazement.

It turned out, Dick actually knew Tim better than he ever realized his brother did. Dick just missed the morality piece because Tim had never wavered from the code and had always been so devoted to following Bruce’s code that Dick assumed it was hero worship of the first hero Tim knew.

They vowed to be more open about things in the future and to work on knowing each other better. And Dick vowed never to exclude Tim again unless someone else gave him a very, very good reason to do so (such as the “it’ll make him want to get involved if he knows and his involvement will make this worse” type of stuff typical in their line of duty).

[simlicious]

Personal update!

Hey everyone! I started to write this at 9:40 am, then I got distracted and did not post it right away but I guess activity on tumblr at that time is low anyway.

I am happy to report that I am still going strong with my changed day/night cycle. It's not always easy, I don't get into bed early enough on some days and feel pretty groggy the next. But this is always where I get defeated - I think okay, sleeping in for half an hour won't be a problem... but then I go to bed even later and the cycle goes backwards really quickly. This time I am determined to stay strong even if that means I walk around like a zombie and drink 1.5 liters of black tea on some days to keep me awake 😆

I guess it takes time to adjust the evening routines too. On these "useless" days, I often play Anno 1800 which is engaging and relaxing at the same time. I often quit the game to mod this and that in the game, so my brain is pretty engaged still and this is how I like it most days.

Since new habits need at least 6 weeks to be counted as a new stable habit, I will focus only on my sleep rhythm for the time being and allow myself to take a mental break from other projects to eliminate the inner expectation of working on those when I know it is unreasonable at this time. It also does me good to let go of any pressure to create TS3 content. I know it has been a while but it does nobody any good if I guilt myself because of it. I often get negative feelings around my simblr lately and it sucks, like I am really unsure about the few AI patterns I made and the poll made me really question what I should do since it is pretty divided. I do not know whether those are more random people who answered the poll or people who often engage in my blog anyway. So I don't really know if I should release those patterns at all or if people come and harass me over them if I do. But not releasing them would mean that energy to create them would be truly wasted, I think? If the images exist already, shouldn't they be used to make it count? Because thinking of that makes me uneasy, I put my creative energy into Anno 1800 for the time being which is not emotionally loaded. I am way too disorganized to really do beauty building, and most of the time I am just happy when my population get the goods they want 😆but modding another item that helps with that or editing other people's mods to fit my needs is fun and satisfying. It's a bit like editing tuning mods for Sims 3 (just with some more complicated layers added depending on the mod).

Knowing myself, I will get another pattern idea soon enough though, and sweater season is fast approaching which means I get into the mood of creating more cozy patterns, hopefully! I want to give a shoutout to people who have shown my patterns in screenshots lately. I admit I am not very active on tumblr at the moment and do not see everything I should. Memorable ones were @martassimsbook and @gittessimsadventuresog, but anyone else please feel addressed too! It means a lot to me to see my patterns in use, it makes me feel validated and useful and lifts my spirits. It also helps to dispel some of my negative thoughts (maybe patterns do not go obsolete after all if people are still using them). I'm really happy they are so useful to you! A lot of you probably do not post many gameplay screenshots but use my patterns anyway, I cannot forget about you 💜thanks for all the support!

[universaln0b0dy]

HEYaaaaa , may I request a dozen roses for the third years please ?????? cute serie

A dozen roses. (Twisted wonderland third years (-housewardens)x reader)

《Characters》: Trey, Carter, Rook, Lillia

《Summary》: You and him had a fight. For whatever reason and the other would only be forgiven if they would be brought a dozen Roses, handpicked/self made or at least that's what they think. Though it was only said out of anger the next week they hold said roses.

《Note》: established relationship. Also fluff, simply fluff

Trey Clover:

Okay, how did that happen. You and Trey having a fight? That was considered impossible. Both of you were the most understanding people in the world wich means a fight shouldn't even have broken out?

Well it did. Though neither you nor Trey can remember what it was about. Something about you having scared Trey to death with fighting all of these Overblots.

You wanted to be the bigger person in this case, planning on apologising for letting the fight get out of control when the only thing Trey did was watch out for you.

Well what might suprise a lot of people is that Trey holds grudges. And you get to experience that rare sight of Trey ignoring you out of anger. And you feel horrible about that.

Wanting to apologise, you crack your head with thinking about what to do as an apology. You get the idea for the roses, by looking out of your window.

"Trey? The prefect is here to see you." Trey perks up, sighing with a slight frown. He really didn't want to see you at the moment, but he had been ignoring you for exactly one week now and maybe he should talk to you.

You step towards Trey, holding the self picked flowers out to him, trying your best to hide the small scratches that littered over your arm.

"I am really sorry. Your right, I shouldn't be so reckless and I shouldn't have said all of that, you were just looking out for me." You exclaim looking at Trey.

The green haired male sighs, but takes the flowers. He looks at them and than smiles at you. "You are forgiven my sweetheart. After all what you are doing helps a lot of people, just promise me that you'll tell me about it, so I can help you."

Carter Diamond:

Carter was known for his cheery and social media based personality, hiding that he had a hard time getting close to people or showing others his none perfect side.

Exept you. You were willing to wait for him, allowing him to take his own time with communicating his feeling. And he probably ruined that.

It was a simple prank he posted without your consent, that made you walk out of the door angrily and avoid him even after he took down the video.

He really doesn't know what to do and it shows, the whole week he seems kinda anxious fidgeting with his fingers pacing around the dorm, or letting his smile falter for just a few seconds.

Trey is the first one to give him an idea on just how to apologise, wich he follows, hoping that you would accept his apology.

You open the door to Ramshackle, flowers greeting your face. They are hand picked, you can tell by the small scratches that cover Carters hands.

"My love, I am very sorry. I shouldn't have posted that video without your consent and- and maybe I should really not post everything on social media I-I..." His voice breaks and you take the flowers giving him a kiss on his forehead.

"I forgive you, but never do that again okay?"

Rook Hunt:

Well no one would believe that you and Rook could fight. Rook was down bad for you in a way that no one else was and you loved Rook even with his little quirks and habits.

But even you could get irritated by his constant stalking. Wich you tell him after a long and exhausting day working for Crowley, in a not a polite way, leaving Rook speeches.

You feel horrible. Rook had stood up and left without saying another word, but by the fact that Vil came knocking on your door later on, asking you just what the hell happened.

You tell Vil what happened, along with asking if he knew just how to apologise to Rook. Luckily Vil sighs realising that it's nothing serious and he won't have to expect Rook being quiet forever. It was spooky.

You on the other hand try your best to catch Rook somewhere in order to properly apologise, but when a hunter doesn't want to be found he won't be found.

By the end of the week you are completely devastated,running into the Pomefiore dorm, asking everyone about Rook. The students told you that he might be in his room and you run towards the direction that was pointed to you.

Before you can knock on the dorms door, Rook opens it. He looks at you, looking gloomy in some way. You hand him the roses with tears in your eyes.

"I am really sorry Rook! I shouldn't have said all that! I don't think it's annoying that you follow me around, I feel safe. And I know that I sometimes might get angry but I want you to know that I didn't mean anything I said that day!" You exclaim, before you suddenly get pulled to the floor by a hug. Rook had tackled you.

"You are forgiven monsior/mademoiselle trickster!"

Lilia Vanrouge:

Oh dear, Lillia and you that was a story. You were an immortal that was recently thrown into this world and Lilia was well Lilia, a veteran fae in the schools textbooks.

It was love on first prank how people might say. Well the relationship was so good that no one expected you two to fight. But well you and Lilia did and you really had a bad fight.

Silver didn't understand what had happened, you just stormed out of the dorm without saying another word, leaving behind a very angry but at the same time really sad Lilia.

The fight was about you returning to your world, with Lilia voicing clear displeasure at the fact you might leave again, but you understood. He was your boyfriend after all.

But something irked you on the way he said it, sounding like he was trying to accuse you of abandoning him and Silver, who you have become a parental figure for.

You simply need time for yourself for now, ignoring the faes advances of talking with you, until Malleus shows up at Ramshackles doormat looking like a lost puppy.

You of course let him in, brewing the dragon fae some tea and Malleus asks you about your fight with Lilia, telling you about how weird Lilia has been behaving.

When he asks you about what apology you would accept, you tell him that a dozen roses would be perfect. Malleus smiles. The dragon fae had really taken a liking to you, seeing you like a parental figure, just like Silver did.

It's now been a week since your fight and you were about to walk over to Diasomnia, until you hear a knock on the door. You open it, seeing Lilia stand in front of you, with exactly a dozen Rose's.

"I am sorry my dear, I shouldn't have gotten so worked up about the fact you might return to your world one day, after all it's your choice! But I was scared that you would just leave..." The fae mutters. You smile pulling Lilia into a hug.

"I would never leave you, Malleus or Silver. I am not going anywhere!"

[the---hermit]

Garden gnome diary

This is just a random list of thoughts, tips and things I am learning as I am keeping a vegetable garden for the first time. I thought it would be fun to write down some things, and maybe what I learn can be useful for others too? I do have a bit of experience gardening, but I only even had herbs that don't need as much attention as a veggie garden does. At the moment my veggie garden has been up for a couple of months more or less, the weather hasn't been kind this year since it's been raining most days for the past few months. I'll probably make more posts like this and random updates in the future.

Starting small is always the best option. This year i decided to plan tomatoes, zucchini and some salad, and after the salad I planted will been eaten I won't plant any more because it was a failure. The combo of heavy rain and slugs has not been kind to it, so I decided that my energies for this year will be focused on the other veggies and that's okay. It's not something I can focus on full time, so having fewer plants to look after is good for me to learn. create habits and not feel overwhelmed.

No matter how little you plan to stay in the garden, or how small the task you will get dirt on yourself, so dress accordingly.

On the same note, having comfortable clothes that you are okay with getting dirty is a game changer. I have a pair of old shoes I don't really wear out anymore so those have become my gardening shoes. And most importantly I have a pair of trousers with lots of pockets that have become my gardening uniform. They are super comfortable, they are light so even if it's very hot I am not suffering too much and I still get total coverage so I can sit down, and avoid as many mosquito and other insects bites as I can.

Moreover I know summer is hot and the temptation to wear a sleaveless top is there, but the more skin is out the more bites you get, so for the love of god wear a baggy tshirt (note made by someone will regret wearing a tank top in the garden for the next week)

Also a pair of well fitted garden gloves is necessary and will become your absolute best friend. I always struggled to find gloves that were small enough for my hands, and when this year I finally did it made everything so much better.

Cleaning out the weeds that grow around the veggies you have planted makes up for most of the job. It's very annoying especially because they grow so quickly and take so much time to clean up. I recommend having an audiobook or a nice playlist on while doing this job because it really makes the time fly. Having a bucket or something to put them as you are plucking them will save a lot of time.

Also since you often have to pluck the weeds out by hand in between the plants find a comfortable position. Sit down, however you are most comfortable, because it will take so much time and you cannot afford to give yourself backpains just because you didn't want to get dirt on your trousers. I somethings almost lie on the ground because it's comfortable and I don't care if my neighbor sees me looking like an idiot half laying in the dirt. I accept myself as a creature of the garden and I couldn't care less if others think I'm weird.

The real enemy is not the weeds (tho they are so annoying) it's slugs. Keeping the garden clean of weeds and everything makes it easier to spot them, but especially when it's been rainy I recommend looking around, under plants and all and remove the little bastards before they ruin everything. I live near the woods so i just gather all the slugs and leave them in the woods near my house in the hopes that some hedgehogs will eat them.

Related to that I have been trying to get hedgehogs to move in/near my garden for a while. Last year I saw a few nearby so I am keeping it up, but leaving a couple of small pile of leaves and weeds (yep that's where all the weeds go) so they can sleep under there if they want to. And I also leave out the snails for them.

I finally understand why the steretypical old man with a garden is so grumpy, and it's all because of the snails trying to eat my salad, and the behated cats the people living nearby leave out that think my garden is their toilet. If you listen closely you can probably hear me curse like a sailor about that.

Writing down on a calendar when it rained and when you watered your plants is going to make things so much easier. I have terrible memory, my brain cannot remember these things.

If you have to build some sort of supportive structure like I did for the tomatoes, for the love of god find ways to make the edges of the structure as safe as possible. I am so clumsy and if it weren't for the precautions I built in the structure and the fact that I am always wearing a baseball hat I would have hurt myself so many times. The baseball hat basically just hits things before I do, or before I accidentally stab myself in the eye with something, because I am a fool and I will walk into stuff.

I don't think this is necessary but here goes nothing, for the love of god wear sun protection.

[just-wrting]

The Babysitter (Part 4)

Title: The Babysitter (Part 4)

Summary: You do your best to get a little closer to Aaron, while still keeping enough distance that you don't catch feelings. The only problem? It doesn't seem like it's working.

Word Count: 2687

Master List Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

A/N: I promised that Part 4 would be what I posted next and here it is!!!! It only took me longer than expected. I also think that despite the migraines and my terrible work schedule I'll be doing my best to post 3x a week. Also yes I know, I didn't post this at 3 AM my time for once.

You stretch and lean back on the couch. Aaron had texted you that plane had landed and that he’d be on his way soon. It's already much later than you want it to be. Jack has been asleep for a while, leaning against you while the TV plays whatever movie is on.

You know you shouldn’t go to sleep now, not when Aaron is so close to being back home, but you can’t fight it anymore. You shuffle Jack into your arms, it's much harder to move a sleeping child than an awake one, and go to the bedroom.

You're too tired to take Jack to his bed, so you take him to Aaron’s room. You push the covers to Aaron’s bed back and climb in. You shuffle the blanket around you and Jack, tucking it under his chin. Within seconds, you feel your eyes flutter shut. You wish you could stay up until toron gets here. That thought doesn't stop you from falling asleep.

——

You wake up well rested to an empty bed. A slightly burnt smell wafts through the house. You race to the kitchen in a panic, worried that Jack has decided to mess with stuff. Instead Jack is standing next to the toaster, with Aaron.

"You should’ve woken me up,” you say as you lean against the doorway. "You nearly gave me a heart attack.”

“I didn't want to wake you. Jack said you had a long week so I thought it was best to let you sleep."

Aaron sets a plate on the table and Jack rushes over to you. He eagerly grabs your arm, and guides you towards the table.

"I helped make you breakfast!"

The way he smiles makes your heart melt, and you sink into a chair.

"Yeah I can see that But is it really okay to eat without you? Maybe I’ll wait a bit.”

Aaron sets two pieces of toast on your plate. The edges are darker than you prefer but you know better than to make a face about it in front of Jack.

"It’s fine. Better to eat it while it's still hot," Aaron says with a gentle smile. "Besides, Jack ate first.”

“That doesn't stop me from feeling a bit bad. How much sleep did you get Aaron?”

His silence is the answer. He got less sleep than you wish he would as is, not to mention how strenuous his job is. You make note to talk to about that habit as soon as you can.

—-

As you pack up your things you hear a knock at the door. You hear Aaron get the door and a voice talking about Jack. Walking to the front door leads to you seeing a mom and son duo.

“He's been talking about this all day," the mom giggles, "I'm so grateful that you’re willing to let Jack come over for a little bit."

You slide up to Aaron and take a look. The kid is Jack’s age, so you guess he's a friend from school. The guess is correct as Jack shoves his shoes on and runs between you and Aaron to go outside.

"I had some stuff to do so it made sense for him to go with a friend.”

"Alright. Just text me when you want me to bring him back. He's always welcome."

With that, the three of them left. You take your time watching Jack get into the car and leave, choosing to stay silent for a minute.

"When did you set that up," you ask, turning to Aaron. "Cause I didn't.”

"This morning. I figured it would give us time to talk about things.”

You nod, "There's still coffee left so we best get to it. I just want a few things to clear up."

A sigh leaves his lips. “I can imagine there's a lot to clear up.

You make both coffees. "I'm not upset with you, if that makes you feel better.

"I suppose it does. I don't know what I'd do if you decided to leave."

"'Probably hire someone else."

"'I don't-" he sighs, “Jack doesn't want someone else."

Your eyes soften as you look at Aaron. He looks exhausted. You want to push him into bed and force him to sleep. You feel yourself thinking about how much you'd like to help him .

“Good thing I love you guys.”

Aaron chuckles. “That’s good. He’d be heartbroken if you left.”

“I can tell. He looks so sad when I have to leave for the night.”

“He does, doesn’t he? What was it you wanted to know?”

You hold the coffee mug in both hands, staring at the surface. There’s only a few topics you want to ask about, you just aren’t sure where to start. There’s stuff about his job, not to mention a topic that you’re positive will be awkward, Jack’s mom.

“Let’s start with an obvious one. Why didn’t you want to tell me about your job? I’m sure that not wanting me to run far away was part of it.”

There’s a pained look on his face. He probably has lots of stories of things happening to people he knows that aren’t agents. You want to give him some sort of comfort, but you aren’t sure what you’d even say.

“You’re right. I also just don’t want you to get hurt. I’ve seen what people will do to people around me and everyone on my team and I was hoping that if you didn’t find out you’d be safer,” he explains, the expression on his face unwavering.

“I’m sorry. I hate to ask it then, but does that choice have anything to do with Jack’s mother? You don’t have to give me details, I just am unsure if I’ll meet her.”

This time, Aaron takes a while to answer. You worry that you’ve asked too much. Clearly something bad happened, and it still weighs heavy on his mind. You choose to focus on your coffee as you try to figure out how to backtrack.

“Forget I asked about it, Aaron. I’m sure I understand enough without you explaining it.”

He shakes his head. “It’s okay. You’re right. My job got in the way and she passed.”

You reach across the table and give his hand a quick squeeze. “You don’t have to say anything else. I’m not entitled to information like that. How about you tell me about this team of yours?”

“I think you’d like them. They do tend to profile everyone however, which can be an issue.”

You give Aaron a smile. “Does that mean you’ve been profiling me since the beginning? And why you didn’t need a background check?”

“Our tech analyst is amazing. She’d find any sort of dirt on you I’d need. Not that I need any.”

“That is a bit terrifying. I’ll make sure to behave I guess. Is she super nosey?”

A small smile breaks across his face. “For sure. Penelope Garcia knows everything I could ever need about you.”

“So do you know everything from my star sign to where I live? Or is that just her?”

“I don’t know any of that. I just made sure you don’t have a criminal background.”

“That’s good. If there’s anything you want to know just ask me. Besides that I don’t have any other questions.”

You down the rest of your coffee and move to the sink.

“Then I’ll get to work. I have some paperwork to get done.”

You turn and look at him. A hand rests on your hip and you frown.

“You’ll do the paperwork after you rest, right? I know for a fact you didn’t get a lot of sleep.”

Aaron looks a bit startled at your question. “I’ll be okay.”

“What time did you get home? When did you go to bed? You slept on the couch, right? When did Jack wake you up?”

“I got home around midnight and went to sleep shortly after. I promise I’m fine.”

You cross your arms and frown. “That doesn’t mean much, Aaron.”

“I’m used to it at this point. Long nights are a part of my job.”

“Aaron, I work with kids. I know how to make you take a nap," you say, Your voice is calm, but you hope he knows you’re serious. "You worry about Jack all the time. Someone has to worry about you.”

“I'll be fine, You don't need to worry about me.”

"Too late. I’m already worried."

Despite the frown, Aaron isn't taking you seriously. His eyes are crinkled and you're sure there's a small hidden behind the coffee mug.

"Since you insist, I'll try to rest. I can’t promise anything."

“I'm sure you'll find the bedroom is nap ready. I swapped out the curtains so it was easier to sleep and brought a fan over.”

Aaron sets his coffee mug next to the sink. You were right about the smile. The corners of his lips are still upturned. You know he’s probably doing this to make you feel better.

—

Thankfully, you’re able to do everything you need around the house. The dishes, sweeping, dusting and various other chores are a breeze without anything or anyone in your way. Things you have been putting off due to a lack of time are officially done. The only place you haven’t cleaned is the master bedroom.

After a few hours, you hear Aaron begin his paperwork. You do your best to not check in on him again, but you can’t help yourself from peering through the crack of the door. His face is set in a frown, and his eyebrows are furrowed. The way he meticulously goes through each page is impressive.

You aren’t sure if he’s eaten, and you can feel the lack of food start to catch up to you. After setting your resolve, you push the door open and lean against the doorframe. Aaron looks up at you almost immediately.

“I know there’s not much in the fridge since I’ve got to go to the store, but did you want lunch? I may not be able to make something that’ll impress you, but I could probably impress a kid,” you joke with a light smile.

While Aaron doesn’t say anything, he gives you more of his attention. You take that as a good sign, and keep rambling.

“Does a PB&J with an apple and milk sound okay? There’s even some leftover brownies that I’ll throw in. That’s something a kid may like, but maybe not something you’d like.”

“Sure. That does sound like something that a kid would like and be impressed by.”

“Of course it is. I cut the apple up which is a superior way of eating it, and they get sugar. Not to mention, sometimes I let them have some chips."

Aaron's smile is less tense, and you feel satisfied. Nothing makes you feel better than knowing you can make someone important to you happier.

“I'll get started on that. Will Jack be joining us for dinner?"

"I thought that it would be a good idea for him to spend as much time as he wants with his friend. It gives me time to get you a contact list for his friends’ parents and that way you can have some free time.”

“If you insist. I already have free time. It's usually a few hours after he's in bed that you’re home. Plus he has stuff he likes to keep "secret" like things for you.”

The frown is back. "What about your dating life? I'm sure that whoever you're seeing wants to see you more."

“Yeah I'm sure that's what my ex would want. I'll make lunch real fast."

You make your escape to the kitchen as quick as you can. Talking about your ex unisn't something you're keen on doing. It was a messy ending.

You push all relationship thoughts out of your head. This is not the time or place to be thinking like that. It's lunch time, which means focusing on making food. Not that making a PB and J is hard.

The whole thing only takes you about ten minutes; you really should just buy an apple slicer. It would save you so much effort. In fact, Aaron's house was missing some of that stuff that would make housework easier.

You do your best to arrange the food on the plate, hoping it all fits. Balancing more than two plates is a struggle, so you choose to grab the drinks separately. Milk is hard to get out carpets if you don’t have the right materials. The smell will attract a pet and that's a hassle. At least it doesn't stain.

"Where do you want me to set this?"

Aaron shuffles the papers into neat piles, creating a space in the middle of the desk. You avert your eyes, not wanting to read the files. Even if they weren’t confidential, it isn't something that you’d want to read. After setting down the plates, you go to get the drinks.

The first few minutes of eating are done in silence. You’d like to get to know Aaron better, you just don’t want to come off as weird. It would suck if he misunderstood your intentions. Not that you wouldn’t date him.

"Something’s on your mind. Did you want to talk about it?”

"No. I think I’ll be okay in regards to what I was thinking about. On a different topic, what do you and Jack do together?”

Aaron looks a little ashamed at the question. You can sense he has a lot of guilt about how things have turned out. The look in his eyes makes you want to comfort him, but you don’t know what to say.

“If you ever want to talk about something, you can talk to me,” you offer. "I won't understand everything, but it's still good to get it out.”

“Maybe at a time when I don’t have so much paperwork,” he says with a sad smile. "I almost feel like-“

"Work has taken over your life? Tell me about it. I love kids, but there are times I wish I choose different job. Like the time all three kids had the flu, so I was cleaning up so much vomit.”

The rest of the meal is spent telling each other embarrassing work stories. Aaron shares things from all his team members, while you tell him the ridiculous things some kids have done. As the stories go on, you find yourself entranced by his laugh. The way his eyes crinkle and the corner of his lips turn up have your heart almost skipping a beat. For some reason, you start to feel self-conscience. Thankfully, the doorbell rings.

"I’ll get it. You probably need to get back to work," you say as you collect the dishes.

You stack the dishes, and carefully close the door behind you. You don't even bother going to the kitchen, opting to just set the dishes on a table nearby. Thankfully, the doorbell rings only the one time. You see the mom from earlier standing there, and swing open the door. Jack rushes in to hug you. You ruffle his hair as the mom starts to speak.

“I’m so glad that Aaron’s finally dating again. Poor man has been alone for too long,” she laments. “How long has it been?”

“I'm not sure. I didn't even know Aaron was dating," you reply with a shrug.

“Wait, you aren’t dating Aaron?” Her face is

turning red. "With how Jack talks about you, I thought maybe. He doesn’t talk about anyone but his dad like that.”

"It's Fine. Can’t blame you for what kids say," you offer with a smile. "No harm done.”

She doesn't say more, instead rushing back to her car. You don’t stop her, figuring that would make it worse.

You'll mention it to Aaron, hoping that he’ll be able to handle it.

For now, you'll be content to make Jack happy by pretending to be whoever he wants. After all, Aaron will have fixed it by tomorrow and there won’t be any more problems.

@rousethemouse @ash-whimsicalfanfic If anyone wants to be added to a tag list let me know!

[veronicaphoenix]

IKIGAI (or A REASON FOR BEING) — CHAPTER NINE

“Can you shift a bit?” She asked, her morning voice also carrying a subtle raspiness. “No, it’s so comfy,” he murmured, snuggling into the pillows, oblivious to the world. “For you,” she replied, her cheeks tinted with a blush. “You’re poking me with… Erm, your thing… It’s hard.” She pressed her face into the pillow. Noah’s warm breath was on her hair and the back of her neck.

Chapter tags: best friends, teenage drama, sleepover, a bit of angst, fluff, and slight 'sexual' content. | Word count: 3.361 | Cross posted on AO3. | Series masterpost. ✧.*

CHAPTER 9

Lia is 14. Noah is 15.

A week later.

Noah waited for hours, sort of hidden behind the bushes of Lia’s neighbors, until he saw Cristina leave the house.

Finally. 

Lia hadn’t been answering his calls, and she had closed the door on his face twice when he went to see her. The third time it had been Cristina who had opened and, of course, she had told him to get lost. The exchange could be summarized down to that.

With no other options available, he used the key to get inside Lia’s house. He called her name a couple of times as he moved around the ground floor, not wanting to startle her, and he saw her sitting on the porch steps to the back garden. The glass doors that led to the backyard were open, so she had probably heard him, but her posture and the fact that her back was facing him told him that she didn’t care.

He walked to her, with slow, deliberate steps.

The morning sun cast a warm glow on the porch, creating a subtle contrast to the growing emotional chill between them. Lia’s hair was open, long and wild, and as he approached her, he noticed she had some flowers stuck in it.  

When he stepped in the porch, the floorboards creaked.

“Why are you here?” She asked.

He waited until he was sat down next to her on the wooden steps. She was making a flower crown with daisies.

“You haven’t let me get near you in seven days, Lia.”

“You abandoned me.”

“I didn’t abandon you”, he retorted, slightly angry at her choice of words. “I’ve been coming to see you nearly every single day, to check on you. That’s not abandonment. If anything, you decided to abandon me.”

At that, she looked at him.

He continued, “Have you stopped to think if I needed you any of those days? If I wanted to talk to you? To see you?”

“You won’t need me when you go away.”

I’ll need you always. 

He let out a huff, aware of the complexity of the situation. He ran his fingers through his hair, a nervous habit.

“I’m not here to argue with you. I’m here to make things clear, Lia. You didn’t even give me a chance to explain; you just shut me out.”

The change in his tone, proving how tired he was, might have made its way into Lia’s veins, as she also let down that façade of strong girl and dropped her shoulders, looking at him with sad eyes. She let the half-done daisy crown fall on the last step and she leaned her body on the railing.

“What is there to explain?”

“Many things, in fact. Will you listen?”

She nodded, fidgeting with her own fingers. A few birds flew by, crossing the garden high up in the sky, and Noah and Lia followed them until they disappeared before they delved into the conversation.

“You know the basics. I have friends at school, but I’m not friends with all that nonsense they’re teaching, or at least, if it’s of any use, I’m not good at it, and I’m tired of feeling like a failure for being examined just like every other single student in this planet. I don’t know why the hell they expect us all to be the same. The only thing I’m good at is music, and next year they’ll be removing that subject, so what’s the point in staying?” He shrugged, a gesture that carried the weight of his uncertainty. Lia remained silent, absorbing his words. “I know for you it’s exactly the opposite. You’re such a brilliant student, Lia. I don’t know how you do it. I admire you, honestly. I wish I was half smart of what you are, but I know you struggle making friends, that you don’t feel comfortable with your classmates. I feel like some of the fault for that is mine, for having been… Overprotective or, I don’t know.”

“It’s not your fault…” She whispered. “It’s just how I am, and I understand your point…”

Noah looked at her with a pained expression, understanding and regret in his eyes. The weight of their individual struggles and the complexities of their friendship was pressing down.

“I hadn’t been thinking about dropping out of school for long, that’s why I didn’t mention it to you. I didn’t even take it seriously the few times it crossed my mind, but I was talking to Mike and to other friends last week and I started considering that maybe it’s not such a crazy idea. A lot of teenagers drop out of school. I’m not crazy. Then, the same day that I thought about talking to my grandparents about it, before I even gathered the courage, they told me that they’re going to allow my mom to stay with them for a while, to help her recover from her addiction, to give her another chance… And I thought, this is it.” He took another breath and then he extended his arm, and his fingers looked for Lia’s until he found them. He held her hand, which was now smaller than his, and ran her thumb along her skin. “I spent the whole week wanting to talk to you, wanting to let you know how I’m feeling about this, about my mom coming back. You think you’re hurt? I’m fucking heartsick, Lia. I should be happy at the thought that my mom is coming back, that she might get better, that I might have a chance to feel like I’m somebody’s son. But the truth is I’m not. I don’t want to see her. I don’t even want to call her my mom for the same reasons you don’t like calling Cristina yours. She’s never been there for me, and I know I won’t be able to survive a single day in the same house as her. You’re stronger than me, Lia. You’ve been surviving here since the day you were born. But I’m fifteen now. I cannot deal with any more bullshit like this. If I do, I’m sure it will keep me from achieving my goals, I’ll go mental, and I don’t want her to fuck up my life the way she fucked up hers.”  

His throat had gone dry. Tears welled up in his eyes, but he was resolute that he wasn’t going to cry. He looked up, trying to swallow his tears and untighten the knot in his chest.

“When Mike suggested I move in with him, I immediately said yes. I didn’t even think about it because I knew that was the only solution. And you know what I thought next?”

She waited for his answer, her expression a mix of concern and anticipation.

“I thought where do I fit Lia in this? She fits somewhere, I just have to figure out where.”

“And…?”

“And I got an answer. I was thinking that, maybe, after you graduate, you could come live with us, with me. Mike’s a nice guy, and his house has plenty of rooms, and he’s willing to rent them. I know it’s still too early to think about it, but I would love to if you were there with me. And I don’t want you to worry about money. Money will come, I’m sure. I want us to work on it, starting from this summer. I want to use the songs you wrote, if you’re ok with it, and we could compose music for them. I want to start working on that, and I also thought that, if you enjoy drawing so much, you could make the designs for the band’s merch. When there’s a band, of course.”

With his intentions laid bare, Lia’s eyes widened, and her heartbeat sped up.

“You really thought all of that?”

“And more,” he responded, his smile radiant with genuine excitement.

Lia felt her emotions bubbling up within her as the weight of Noah’s plans and the depth of his consideration sank in.  

“Noah,” her voice quivered with vulnerability. She was about to start crying. “I’m scared,” she admitted. He squeezed her hand harder. A couple of tears escaped from her eyes. Noah put the other hand on her head and pulled her forward until his chin was on top of her head and her face nestled against his chest.

“I’m scared, too, but not of losing you, not of losing each other.”

“I’m sorry about what I said to you.”

“It’s okay. I know that was like dropping a bomb,” he admitted. “I should have talked to you earlier. So, what do you say?”

Lia lifted her head.

“About what?”

The air around them seemed to hold its breath.

“Well, you have to give me an answer; tell me if you would like to move in with me and Mike when you turn eighteen.”

Lia couldn’t help but smile at his best friend’s bright expression. “Do you even need an answer?” She teased.

His smile widened, and suddenly it seemed that all his worries were gone.

“But Mike smells weird,” Lia continued, making a face. “What if the house smells like him?”

Noah chuckled.

“He smokes weed sometimes, that’s all.”

They shared a smile. Noah’s hand moved to Lia’s hair, fingers carefully untangling the flowers that were stuck. “Now, let’s finish this crown, what do you say?”

Lia nodded. Noah picked up a few flowers from the wooden step and pretended to know what he was doing. Lia observed him, a curious grin playing on her lips. Noah had no fucking clue on how to make a daisy crown, and before she knew it, laughter bubbled out of her at the way he was mistreating the little flowers.

“Never mind,” he concluded, shaking his head. “You do it. I’ll put it on your head when it’s done.”

“Deal,” she replied, her laughter still echoing through the quiet space of the porch.

As Lia skillfully weaved the flowers into a crown, Noah watched with genuine amusement, appreciating the care and precision she put into each delicate twist. The wooden steps became a makeshift workshop for their impromptu crafting session.

When the crown was finally complete and Lia had a floral masterpiece adorning her hair, they looked at each other, smiles spreading across their faces. The shared accomplishment brought a sense of lightness to the air, a moment of simple joy that momentarily eclipsed the rest of the world.

“Noah?” She called his name gently. There was a request coming, and he was willing to do anything.

Another bird landed in the grown grass of the garden and looked around as if lost. A tiny creature, unaware of the troubled lives in front of it. While Lia looked at the bird, Noah kept looking at her, and he couldn’t help but admire the way her freckles spread across her nose and cheeks, and how her eyelashes fluttered like butterfly wings every time she closed and opened her eyes.

“Yeah?”

“Can you stay the night?”

“What about your mom?” He worried, concern creasing his brow.

“She’s gone. She said she’s not coming back until Saturday or Sunday.”

“I can stay,” he said without another thought. “Let me call grandma, though.”

As Noah reached for his phone to make the call, Lia couldn't shake the warmth that spread through her. The weight of everything else still lingered, but in that moment, there was a sense of ease, and she was relieved that she wouldn’t have to spend that night alone.

Hana let him stay the night at Lia’s but couldn’t refrain from making a few remarks about the fact that she was letting two teenagers sleeping alone in a big house. Her concerns, however, were more about mischievous teenage behavior than the solitude itself. Noah waved her off with a disgusted expression and a few disapproving noises when she subtly mentioned something about hormones and such, and that Lia was a good girl and that he should treat her right, although he couldn’t deny that he was carrying a condom in his wallet. One of Mike’s friends had given it too him two weeks before, during one of their meetings to talk about music. There was no connection, but it was kind of expected that young adults would bring the topic of sex to him, a teenager. At least he was glad they did it with the intention of making sure he was safe and so was whoever was with him. Not that he had any intention of using it any time soon…

As the day unfolded and evening came, Noah and Lia opted for the convenience of a frozen pizza that had been languishing in the freezer for months. The whirr of the microwave filled the air as they prepared some popcorn, adding a touch of movie night charm to their impromptu plans. The cozy aroma of melted cheese and the crackling of popcorn accompanied them as they settled on the sofa, ready to enjoy their feast while Final Destination started playing on the TV.

The clock ticked away, and by around eleven p.m., the remnants of their meal were cleared and the movie had come to an end. They made their way upstairs, to Lia's room, the only place in the house that felt a bit like a sanctuary of comfort and familiarity. Noah, feeling the ease of their shared space, decided to make himself comfortable, stripping down to his underwear while opting to keep his T-shirt on. Meanwhile, Lia disappeared into the bathroom to change into her pajamas, allowing Noah a moment to explore Lia's cupboards in search of an extra pillow.

The atmosphere in Lia's room was infused with a quiet intimacy as they prepared for the night ahead. The soft glow of ambient light filtered through the curtains, casting a warm and soothing hue over the room. As Noah finished deciding between a square or a more rectangular pillow, Lia grabbed a book from the nearest pile to the bed and settled in the left side of her bed to read for a while. Five minutes later, the sound of Noah brushing his teeth in the bathroom faintly resonated through the hallway and into the room.  

An hour later, they were both fast asleep. The occasional murmur of turning pages and the gentle hum of the night left behind. Lia’s body was curled up in a fetal position, facing the window, while Noah sprawled out, his limbs occupying a significant portion of the mattress, legs and arms everywhere. Unconsciously, his fingers tangled into Lia’s long hair, creating an unintentional but tender connection between them.

Throughout the night, the room witnessed a dance of unconscious movements. Lia, wrapped in her own dreams, occasionally pulled at the bedsheets. Noah, embracing the depths of slumber, would instinctively gravitate towards her warmth whenever a chill lingered in the air.

By morning, the room told a silent story of the night, with Noah finding himself wrapped around Lia, their bodies intertwined in a sleepy, yet comforting embrace—his arm was draped protectively over her tummy, and their legs were entwined at the end of the mattress.  

The soft morning light filtered through the curtains. Lia had been awake for nearly an hour when she called out for him.

“Hmm?” he mumbled; his voice still heavy with sleep.

“Can you shift a bit?” She asked, her morning voice also carrying a subtle raspiness.  

“No, it’s so comfy,” he murmured, snuggling into the pillows, oblivious to the world.

“For you,” she replied, her cheeks tinted with a blush. “You’re poking me with… Erm, your thing… It’s hard.” She pressed her face into the pillow. Noah’s warm breath was on her hair and the back of her neck.

In an instant, Lia felt Noah's entire body stiffen. She didn't see it, but he shot his eyes wide open, a look of terror on his face. He looked down, frantically trying to assess the situation, and then, with an almost comical haste, he rolled on the bed, narrowly avoiding falling off the other side.

Lia stifled a laugh as she watched his reaction, her amusement evident in the playful sparkle in her eyes. Noah, now redder than she was, attempted to gather his composure, covering his bulge with his hands, while shooting her an embarrassed glance.

“Shit. I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to… You know… This happens sometimes and I… Huh… Fuck.”

“It’s fine,” she said, trying to keep her eyes on his face. She remained surprisingly composed. Noah was not sure if he liked that smile plastered on her face. She bit her lip, and he thought: oh, oh.

“Can I touch it?”

There it was.

“What?” He mumbled, his drowsy, still groggy mind struggling to process her words, his eyes narrowing against the intrusive morning light.

Did she just ask if…?

“I’ve never touched one and I’m curious.”

“Lia, what the…” The embarrassment and bewilderment on his face just kept on increasing. “Ugh, no.” He stammered.

“We’ve already kissed. What’s the harm? I promise I’m not going to put my hand down your pants or anything. I just want to… Can I?”

This girl certainly knew how to keep him on his toes, and she would definitely drive him mad someday.

“One touch, and then you move away, understood?”

“Yes, sir,” she joked, saluting him with an exaggerated gesture, her hand resting on her forehead.

Noah couldn’t help but roll his eyes, a blend of amusement and exasperation crossing his features. Lia’s playful antics were both endearing and maddening.

As he reluctantly agreed to her proposition, Lia shifted on the bed, moving to sit on her knees in front of him, who was still standing by the bed, covering his erection with his hands. He looked up at the ceiling to avoid seeing Lia’s eyes wander on the bulge on his underwear. She looked beautiful in the morning light, with her features still hinting that she had been dreaming, but he didn’t want to look at her while she did… that.

He moved his hands away.

A few seconds later, he felt Lia’s fingertips pressing once, twice, against his erection.

“It’s… Harder than I thought.”

Noah swallowed, counting the seconds.

“It’s like… Hard clay.”

“Okay, congratulations on your discovery.”

His hands went back to where they had been three seconds before, and he turned around, walking away from the bed.

“Does it always get this hard?” She asked, deadpan serious.

“Stop asking me these questions. It’s uncomfortable,” he replied as he put on his jeans, that had been discarded on the floor near the piles of books.  

“Uncomfortable was having that thing pressed against my back for an hour,” she retorted with a snort. Seating herself back on the bed, she proceeded to gather her hair in a ponytail.

Noah rolled his eyes again as he made himself comfortable in his trousers.

Sensing his distress, which she still found amusing, by the way, Lia ushered to say: “Okay, sorry. Go to the bathroom and do whatever you have to do.”

“I don’t have to do anything!” He snapped, bothered by the whole ordeal.  

“That’s not what I meant, idiot. Wash your face or take a shower. I don’t know.”

The banter continued throughout the morning, with Lia teasing him and Noah shooting death glances in return. Fed up with the ongoing banter, he seized his opportunity when they were making pancakes in the kitchen and retaliated by covering Lia’s face with the batter.

“If you would just wear yesterday’s crown, I’d say you look like the most beautiful princess in the world.”

Lia, initially frozen in place, couldn’t hold her laughter. She hurried to swiftly swap some batter from the bowl and began chasing Noah around the kitchen and into the living room.

The morning, which had started with a hint of awkwardness, effortlessly transformed into a lively scene. Laughter filled the air as Noah and Lia engaged in their impromptu food fight, grabbing at each other, and running their dirty hands all over each other’s faces and bodies, smearing their skin with the whitish sticky paste.

[potatocitytechnology]

Trick or Treat? - L.TN

Kinktober Day 14

Crossdressing: Wearing clothing typical of the opposite sex.

INTRO: Halloween is your boyfriend, Ten's, favourite holiday of the year and everyone knows it. Yet, you somehow manage to convince him to let you both stay home this time. Maybe you'll give him a new reason to enjoy it so much...

GENRES: Smut

WARNINGS: Profanity/swearing, oral (F receiving), chocking/breath play, nipple play (receiving), cross dressing, ten has a slight mommy!kink, switch!femreader, switch!ten, overall explicit content - DO NOT ENGAGE WITH THIS POST IF YOU ARE UNDERAGE, PLEASE!

WORD COUNT: 3.6k

AUTHORS NOTE: this is a reuse of the only kinktober writing i did last year but i think it's really cool and gives me a day off (=_="). anyways underneath i've also linked to yesterday's post (day 13) because the tags are playing up (*꒦ິ꒳꒦ີ). tumblr has been a bit bad like that for me at the moment, so if you really want to see my writing you can follow me or go to my account (or kinktober m.list) to see writing that you've missed! Anyways, enjoy xox

Harvest in the Air - K.DY & L.TY (day 13)

It’s that time of year. The time where everyone (mostly children) dresses up in cute, sometimes scary outfits and come knocking door to door in hopes of acquiring enough candy to keep them satisfied until next October. 

You and Ten made it a tradition to go trick or treating ever since your first holiday that you spent together and years later, although still a young couple, you’re starting to wonder whether the parents in your area are becoming concerned with your habit. You’ve been telling Ten for the last two years that maybe you should stop and just start staying in and watching a couple of horror movies, eating sweets that you actually bought instead of continuing to steal other adults’. But he was always so against it, complaining it was the only way he could stay young.

However, this year you had managed to convince him that you two could do exactly that. Stay in and enjoy each other's company. He was reluctant and grovelled for weeks before the date, but here you stand in your bedroom placing a small parcel with a bright orange bow, neatly on the bed. You thought it might be a nice idea to give him a gift as he had given up the holiday he so much loved. 

When Ten gets home you’re sitting in the living room watching one of the mild children’s horror movies that are usually on until about 9pm, before the real ones are rolled out. He looks deflated and you immediately feel guilty as he shoots you a smile before walking into your shared bedroom, probably readying for a shower. 

As he leaves your sight you wait one, two, maybe 30 seconds before you hear an excited sound and Ten comes rushing out to you with the parcel in his hands. A large grin replaces the small smile on his face only there a minute prior and your lips turn up as a result. 

“Is this what I think it is?” He asks lightly skipping from one foot to the other. You only shrug your shoulders with a look of faint innocence on your face. “It depends what you think it is.” 

Your vague statement does nothing to deter him before he eagerly asks, “Is it a costume?” You laugh at his hopeful expression and nod your head. “So we’re going trick or treating!” He exclaims in happiness and you internally coo at your boyfriend and his cute antics. 

You once again let a sort of laugh escape from between your lips and shake your head, no. “You might not want to go out in public in that costume, baby.” His expression falls and he looks down at the object in his hands in confusion before looking up at you with eyes narrowed and a smirk on his face. 

“Is this a sexy costume?” He asks with a knowing tint in his voice as he waggles his eyebrows suggestively. You can’t help the snort you let out at his antics before nodding your head. “Open it.” You say quietly, ultimately hoping he would end up liking it. Ten was a very adventurous lover, always down to try new things as long as you both had a good time. And this was very new for you both. 

He sits down beside you and nudges you playfully with his shoulder before pulling the ribbon of the bow. When it falls he is left to unwrap the parcel and he does so quite carefully, making sure to not damage anything inside of it. 

His expression is immediately one of confusion again as he pulls out the outfit. A short, skimpy looking dress is the first and largest item that he examines and you see as the gears turn in his head. He looks at you with darker eyes, “Is this a dress?” 

You smile, your pearly teeth a show of your excitement as you nod humming a short ‘yes’. The dress is black and sexy, one you think you’ll very much enjoy peeling off him. It flows out at the hips which you thought would be ideal for easy access and it’s adorned with white and orange details. He nods, a blank expression on his face as he pulls out the next two items. A pair of black pumps and a cute little headband with the words ‘Mommy’s Good Boy’ written across the band. You wait with a nervous feeling skipping through your chest as you try to take in his reaction. You see his throat bobble slightly as he nods again, seemingly in thought. 

The last items he pulls from your little present are the thin, black and white fishnet stockings that you had folded up neatly and placed with care at the bottom, as well as a little black choker with a bell on it. With him still not having said a word you become used to the feeling of rejection jolting through your veins. You would be ok if he said he didn’t want to try them, you wouldn’t care but you desperately wanted him to like what you had picked for him. 

He places the stockings in his lap with the other items before turning towards you. You couldn’t see fully before while he was almost pointed away from you, but you see it now. His expression is low and sultry and his eyes seem to hold a dim lust that attracts you towards him. “Am I dressing up as Mommy’s good boy tonight?” He asks, his voice laced with pure seduction and your mouth parts slightly as you nod. 

He only smiles before leaning forward and pecking you on the lips teasingly as he stands, presumably heading to the bedroom to put on your present. When he leaves you sigh out a breath of relief at the fact he obviously found your idea sexy and wanted to at least give it a go. Over the next fifteen or so minutes, you’re left to simmer in your own pool of lust as you become increasingly agitated and impatient. 

When Ten finally emerges into the living room, he is initially shadowed by the dim light of the hallway before he steps closer and you can see him in all of his beautiful glory. The short, black dress sits exactly where you thought it would, about mid thigh and it makes you almost drool looking at the way it hugs his lean upper body before flowing out at the hips. 

The cute little headband sits amongst his longer dark hair with most of it pushed back under it, save for a few strands that lay delicately over his forehead. The choker catches your eye as it hangs delicately around his neck, the little bell jingling softly everytime he moves. 

He watches with dark eyes as you examine him and when your eyes track lower, he sees the way you visibly suck in a breath. The heels that you bought lift his entire body up an inch or two (meaning he’s now even more taller than you) and accentuate his legs and hips in a way that makes you lick your lips. 

But what catches your attention the most are the way his toned legs look wrapped in the fine material of the stockings. The tiny holes in the fishnets let you slightly see his pale skin through the fabric and the way they tie the whole outfit together makes him look so delicious, you start to feel hungry for him. 

Once he feels he’s been standing there long enough for you to take in his appearance, he moves slowly towards you. The faint clicking of his heels on the hardwood floor has you almost feeling a sense of deja vu, but one where you are in his position. 

He stops only a half metre from you and you watch as he delicately leans over and places his hands either side of your head where it lays against the back of the couch. His breath mingles with your own as he brings his head close to yours. Your chest shows your laboured breathing but you’re sure Ten would be able to tell just from the way you’re parted lips pant, only a mere inch from his. “What would mommy’s good boy like him to do?” He asks, eyes half lidded as he waits for you to give him an instruction. You slowly bring your hand up to his face and gently brush a stray strand from his forehead before lacing your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck. 

“Kiss me.” Is all you manage out before you tug him forward, half his weight landing in your lap as your lips meet. He kisses you with lust, as though he’d been just as frustrated it took him so long to get ready, but you both knew it was worth it. A finger from your other hand loops through the material of his choker, before you pull it slightly back. Effectively cutting off a decent amount of his air supply. He moans into your mouth and you immediately swallow it, the noise sending a flush through your body. 

He pulls back slightly and his eyes meet yours. “And what did mommy want me to do to show he’s a good boy?” Your chest heaves not only from your lack of breath but at his dedication to the role and you sink further back into the couch as you push him back. 

“It depends, do you want to show me how good you can be or do you want mommy to reward you for being an obedient boy so far?” Your question isn’t taken in by your boyfriend as he seems to have already made up his mind on what he wants to do before you can even answer. 

He drops to his knees in front of you, pushing your legs apart and situating himself in that spot. He leans into your core before laying his head on your thigh. “Wanna show you.” He almost purrs and you hum in content at his answer, either way you didn’t mind. He lifts his hands to your waist in an attempt to tug at your jeans, before looking up at you through his lashes with wide eyes. Getting the hint you lift your hips as he continues to pull and is finally able to drag them down your legs, discarding them somewhere behind him. 

He once again leans into you, seemingly inhaling your scent through your already wet panties and a faint blush rises to your cheeks in embarrassment at the obvious patch that leaks through. Ten takes no mind, only managing a soft groan as he tentatively pokes at the material with his tongue. 

A shaky sigh escapes your lips at the action as he continues the motion and you start to become irritated at the delay. “Good boys don’t tease.” You warn with a sharpness in your tone and he immediately nods in agreement, repeating your warning under his breath, “Good boys don’t tease.” 

Following this, he uses a single digit to gently pull them from your form gently moving them down your legs so that they pool at your ankles, not fussed at having to remove them entirely. Straight away he shoots forward, licking a long stripe up the expanse of your pussy until he reaches your clit. 

You suppress a moan but can’t help the gasp that emits you as he begins to toy your clit in his mouth. Your hands fly to his hair where you grasp onto his soft roots as he lifts his eyes to yours. You could take a picture of this moment if it wasn’t so lewd. The way his eyes peer up at you as he’s dressed in the most breathtaking sexy attire you could only hope to pull off. His heels poke out from under him and you catch a glimpse of the stockings adorning his legs and can’t help the way your own eyes half roll back. 

Your fingernails gently graze his scalp as you do so, making him groan into your pussy. He lifts a hand to press gentle circles into your clit as his tongue drops to your hole to lap at the juices that seemingly pour out of you at this point. You can’t help the way you wrap your legs around his head but he doesn’t push you away, apparently liking the fact you’re suffocating him between your thighs. 

When he probes a finger at your entrance your head falls forward to watch as he slowly pushes it into your dripping hole. He then latches his mouth around your clit once again as he starts pumping the finger into you, the wet noises that would normally make you cringe only turn you on more. You try to pull him even closer by his hair as he sucks on your clit like it's the tastiest lollipop he’s ever tried and you almost cry out at the sensitivity it causes. 

A series of curses leave your mouth as you feel the pleasure of the pain tip you into a state of euphoria, your pussy convulsing around his finger as he continues to kitten lick your clit. “Fuck baby, no more.” You manage out between pants, tugging his head back by his hair. He only groans into you making you stutter forward, your hips bucking up in sensitivity. 

His head knocks up at the motion and when he tries to bury himself between your legs again, you pull him up into your lap and press your face into the expanse of his neck. “No means no, Ten.” You mumble against his skin to which only earns you a whine. You leave a trail of marks along his pale throat as your wandering hands make their way down from his shoulders to his hips. 

Within a second you use the grip to flip the both of you over so that you are now straddling him whilst he lies back across the couch, a grunt escaping him while you do. You sit up and pull your shirt over your head, the only clothing left on your body is your bra which you have no intention of removing. However your boyfriend immediately whines when he realises you won’t, reaching up to attempt at removing it himself whilst you tut a sharp ‘no’. 

His face scrunches up at your response, “But I’ve been good!” His proclamation makes you half roll your eyes before you reach behind your back and unclip your bra, tossing it away. “Happy now my whiny baby?” You mock to which he immediately hums, reaching up and tugging you down. 

When you're only slightly hovering over him, he lifts his head up to take a nipple into his mouth, softly pinching the other. You half close your eyes at the pleasant feeling before they shoot open. A not so gentle nip is issued to the nipple in his mouth and you immediately scold him. “No biting, Ten.” He only looks up at you innocently before switching to the other nippile, maintaining eye contact. 

Once again your breath sharpens before you tug yourself from his grip, much to his dismay. You take yourself down his body so that you can run your fingers up his stockings, letting the fabric occasionally catch and pull before snapping back against his skin. The immediate hiss that escapes him turns into a low, drawn out moan as he watches you in wonder. 

You run your hands slowly up his thighs, your fingertips dancing under the hem of his dress. His breath quickens, you can feel it not only in the way he moves, but the way his skin trembles under your touch. When you reach his upper thighs where the stockings end, you realise your boyfriend wears nothing else under the fabric of the dress. 

You internally groan and flip the dress up so that the hem lies on his lower stomach. His cock immediately jumps up to greet you. Your gleeful expression is hard to mask as you realise just how much he’s enjoying this. Almost more than you it seems. Your cold fingertips brush lightly around his most sensitive part and he shifts under you impatiently, a groan emitting from him. 

Your eyes make contact with his, “Do you think you’ve been good enough to deserve to be touched, baby?” You question, your almost condescending tone sending a shiver up his spine before he nods. You raise a questioning brow at his wordless answer. “Yes mommy.” 

You nod in approval, moving to lean over his tip before letting a drop of saliva drip from between your lips, landing directly on him. His hands on his stomach clench and when you move your hand to grip him, he sighs in content. His hard cock beneath your hand pulses as you slowly start to pump him, the spit working as a lube to ease to movement. 

You watch as he tucks his bottom lip between his teeth and you smirk before moving your hand in fast strokes right under the head of his cock before you bring your other hand up to lightly flick his tip. The slight pain mixed with the pleasure of your movements has his back arching up and his eyes closing fully as he throws his head back against the cushions. Fully showing the expanse of his pale throat contrasted to the black choker sitting prettily against his skin. 

“I’m gonna cum.” He warns in a husky voice and you nod in understanding, a sigh leaving his lips thinking you’re going to let him release like this. You give another couple strokes before pulling your hands from him. His head shoots up in disbelief. “Seriously?” He questions a bratty, ungrateful pitch underlying his tone. “You’ll take what you get baby, cause that’s what good boys do.” You point out to which he shoots you a look. 

“What if I don’t wanna be your good boy anymore?” He smirks, his voice holding a sense of victory. You only shrug trying to seem unfazed by his rebuttal. “Then I'll just go to bed.” You state staley, making his jaw drop slightly and his eyes narrow. His expression tells you that you wouldn’t dare leave him like this. Or so he thought. 

He almost begs you to stay when you lift off of him, giving him a faked sad wave as you make your way to your bedroom. You hear him move before you feel or see him. He quickly clatters to his feet, obvious with the noise he makes in the heels as he stands in a rush and staggers over to you. He grasps your wrist pulling you around and you have to hold back the look of awe you want to show. He’s an extra couple inches taller than you, like you thought he’d be. But your good little boy (when he wants to be) has a primal look shadowing beneath the surface of his iris’. He pulls you close to him, pressing your bodies together so that you can feel the lacy material of the dress tickling at your bare skin. He pulls you forcefully in for a kiss, hot and messy. Your boyfriend is obviously not a fan of being left unattended to. Whilst you're distracted he pushes you backwards, his hands trailing down the expanse of your back. 

When you hit a solid surface you gasp, pulling back from him causing him to press hard kisses into your jaw and down the side of your neck. He’d pushed you back against the kitchen bench, and you nearly squeal in surprise when he lifts you easily onto the counter. Because of his added height you sit hip to hip with him and he runs his hands over your bare thighs before pulling them around his waist. You groan as he flips his skirt up, before reaching between you two and pinching your clit, eliciting a yelp from you. He lowers his mouth to the side of your head and you feel his breath tingle at the shell of your ear. 

“Good mommy’s don’t leave their little boys unsatisfied.” Is the only thing he says before he lines himself up with your entrance. It’s the only preparation you receive before he ruts up into you, slipping in easily. You cry out, looping your arms around his neck and burying your face under his throat. As your mouth parts you feel the fabric of the choker against your lips, so you bite against his throat nibbling the material into your mouth. He groans, his thrusts becoming faster paced and you swore you could feel him throb inside you. You lean back slightly in his grip, your teeth still clenching around his choker tightly. 

You feel his fingers leave prints on your hips as your pull on his neck piece once again has him actually being choked. The noises that escape him make your pussy clench around his cock and you feel another rush of arousal shoot through your body, pulling a deliciously loud moan from between his lips. He starts to shallowly rock against you, the friction on your clit leaving you mewling against him. You feel the moment he cums into you. With the teasing and the way you’re harshly cutting off his breath supply, paired with the way you fit him so well. Always so perfectly accommodating. 

With the feeling of him stuttering up into you, you quickly find yourself following after him, a loud noise similar to a whimper being dragged from your chest. You sit there together and attached to each other. Your head tucked in his neck and his resting gently on the top of yours. You lean up to his ear slowly, trying to not move your hips too much knowing you’re both far too sensitive for that. Your breath gently tickles his ear lobe and another tingle races down his spine at the feeling. 

“Trick or treat?” You hum against his skin, a small smile gracing your lips. 

“Treat. Definitely treat.”

[littlecatfishgoddess]

Your last post, about edging and sending, is so fucking evil. You probably don't even have a clue. That happened to me with another Domme. I thought it was just a fun way of combining gooning and financial domination. It was so much worse. It nearly ruined my life. The denial kept me wired constantly. Could only sleep for an hour or two at a time, before I would wake up horny and confused. I would hold off and tell myself not to send today. But the arousal would keep building. Then I would suddenly see something that triggered me and I say to myself "I'll just send $1 a bunch of times. Just keep sending till I reach the edge." Of course, after stopped, I was even more insanely horny and desperate than before. And much more likely to do it again a few minutes later.

Gradually it started feeling lame, but by that time I already spend a few 100s and I did not want to cum and quit. I was "invested" in it. However, the edges were hard to get and less satisfying than ever.

I started sending $5 sends instead. That made it more intense. I'd send 6-7 times and get to the edge that way. But one time I accidentally double tapped and typed $55.

Instead of deleting the extra digit, I froze. Something in my head told me: "Fuck! If I sent $55 that would be so FUCKING INTENSE!". I was still stroking while thinking this and that didn't give me time to think clearly. At that point, either I would stop or press the the "pay" button. Fuck CA, I hate that app. Ruined my life.

I hit pay.

A flood of adrenaline hit me like a brick wall. I was sweating, heartbeat fast like crazy, couldn't breath. What the fuck did I do? I payed $55 just to stroke my cock a couple of times. Fucking idiot.

I literally threw my phone away from me. I was pissed at myself. What a fucking waste of money!

But my cock was throbbing so hard. Instant edge. Had to stop in fact, but it was like I stayed on the edge for a good ten minutes after, without touching.

Looking back it was such a rush. I don't think anything could beat that. Except there was something that could.

I forced myself to get up and do other things and clear my head. Swore never to do any of that shit again. Domme shrugged and told me to go ahead and take a break.

Jerked off like a maniac and came 9 times in 2 days. I thought that was the end of it.

Next week, I was back. Same rules. No touching unless I am actively sending. No orgasms only edging. She said "you will be a mindless ATM". I actually thought that was hot. Fucking moron!!

I thought this time I'd be more careful. Keep the sends small. Be cool. Just a hot way to make the edge more intense. Wasn't working though. I mean it worked just enough to keep me hooked, but not enough to give me any lasting satisfaction.

I would start with $5 sends. Between typing the numbers, choosing the recepient, pressing pay (fuck the shape of that pay button is still branded in my mind's eye), hit confirm a bunch of times, I could stroke for maybe 10 seconds before it was time to stop... or send again.

Of course I needed to do it again. After the third or fourth time, things would start get going. By going I mean, the voice in my head would start saying: "double it, it will make it so much more intense! Do it, I dare you!" I would try to argue, resist, but then something else would happen. I'd started spacing out.

Probably because of sleep deprivation, or all the hypno stuff I watched for years, I started getting in the habit of basicaly trancing out. Fuck, I wasn't even looking at porn. It was just an app with numbers, and I was jerking off to it while my mind would go blank. I would quickly turn into a fucking zombie. And soon I'd send $10 a couple of times. Instant rush, but not enough to get to the edge. Then I'd send $20. I could not stop myself. I had to continue and gradually send more until I reached the edge. I tried to stop before I reach the edge a few times, but it did nothing for me. Worst than nothing, it was like I wasted the opportunity and money for no reason. No, I HAD to get to the edge.

Long story short. I ended up with a routine. Wake up in the middle of the night. Start stroking and sending $5 dollars. Then start doubling till I reached an edge. Each edge would end up costing me $400 to $1000. I would edge fall asleep. Wake up an hour later, do it again. 3-4 times a night and more during the day. And the "sessions" would only take a minute or two. It was fucked. I was fucked. I was so so fucked. I still am. I am so fucking triggered right now just writing this. I want to do it again. But I am broke and that's the only thing keeping me from relapsing. I have to cum 3-4 times a day just to keep myself from spiraling. Lost over 30K I think and I hate myself. This fucking ruined my life. I will NEVER be able to have normal sex. I will always crave to chase that thrill. Nothing else comes even close. It's like jerking off at the edge of a cliff with a gun pointed at my head. Gooning is a joke compared to the massive dopamine hit I got from this. This shit should be illegal.

You probably won't post this, but you should go fuck yourself for posting about this stuff. I pray to god nobody else ever tries it.

lol... that's hot.

Anyway: Send

[dartagnantt]

Illusory Shinanigans

PDFs of this and more can be found over on at my Patreon here! You should also follow my new Kickstarter so you can be alerted when it goes live next year!

The last of my potential. How tragic! … err… I mean, the last of my "potential" theme. (saved it)

This week, I delve into my favourite school of magic, the one with the vaguest rules and is either awesome or lame depending on your game master. I've fortunately had some pretty rad GMs who run with my nonsense. So I get a lot of mileage out of illusions. I mostly play with phantasms this week AKA hallucinations but I also throw in some shadow magic for fun. The fleece is getting stretched very thin today.

Daydream

This one seemed like a lot of fun after all of the hallucinating I was doing. Literally trap someone in their thoughts. It's a bit of an advanced single target colour spray.

Mass Phantasmal Force

I couldn't figure out how to scale the power of phantasmal force, as a result it kind of became four spells. This was a version of of the original scaled for additional targets.

Phantasmal Force: Revised

This is the one closest to the original, however, this one is specifically attack focused, hence why it scales the damage. I did do an overall change where instead of just believing everything but still being able to use an action to escape, I make failing a check force the belief instead. As much as I call this revised phantasmal force, I kind of rewrote the entire spell so I could use it for other projects because for some reason, they left my favourite spell out of the SRD >:(

Phantasmal Image

This one is my primary use case of the spell, you'll note that you can be more vague with this. This is borrowed from audiovisual hallucination, a spell from pathfinder and my actual favourite spell. This is also how I both use and run the spell. Because the phantasm subschool is locked inside someone's mind, its weaker in that only a designated creature can see it, but because it taps into their mind you can force belief and use their own knowledge against them. But yeah, as much fun as harming creatures with illusions is fun, the diverse fuckery in funner.

This one scales in size, because I've had to abuse the notion of perspective more than I'd like in a hallucination to get around the size limitation. Tempted to make a 'phantasmal diarama' spell at some point, but that's kind of what the next one is for.

Programmed Hallucination

This I made mostly as a retroactive excuse for what I did to my players in my game (I do this quite often, feel free to judge me) I wanted a hallucination trap, because they needed to enter a crowded room, and needless to say, if they didn't feel the people, then this would fail immediately. But I wanted a more general use case, because fuck yes!

Shared Hallucination

And this is the last variation, scaling the non damaging version for more people. Because you really need to distract multiple people with one concentration spell.

Shadow Duplicate

Kage Bunshin no Jutsu! Not called shadow clone, because that would imply its related to the clone spell. But really this is effectively a lesser simulacrum. I was always disappointed that mirror image doesn't give you illusory doubles that can move indepenat from you, kind of like the trickery domain power, and I didn't really want to make a specific spell for it, because silent image and major image can kind of do that already. So instead, a spell that makes a copy, that you can cast from or attack, or whatever. This should probably be a higher level, but I REALLY wanted this is be available for bonus spell lists.

And now to plug my stuff. I release homebrews weekly over on my Patreon. Anyone who pledges $1 or more per post don't have to wait a month to see them, and also help fund my being alive habit.

At the moment, they have exclusive access to the following:

Concubus Patron

The Siren's Call

Satyr Ancestry

Sanguine Seeker Ranger Archetype

I also have three classes, and a splatbook over on DriveThrueRPG to check out:

The Rift Binder. A class specialising in summoning monsters and controlling the battlefield.

The Witch Knight. A class that combines swords and sorcery in the most literal way.

The Werebeast. A class that turns you into a half beast to destroy your foes.

d'Artagnan's Adventurer Almanac. A compendium of races, subclasses, feats, spells, monsters and more!

[inkstainedheartbeats]

All in A Days Work

Prompt: Squidfest (with a smidge of Winter Clothes and furniture)

Will be posted on AO3 when it comes back up.

Summary: Steve accompanies his cousin Alex to Squidfest bound and determined to keep his cousin smiling.

Steve knocks the snow that had gathered on the bottom of his winter boots off before walking to the house before him. It’s a habit, true, but he also is never too sure about his welcome in this particular home despite the years that have passed. Pictures line the wall, and the warm scent of cookies saturates the air. Mr Milner doesn’t seem to be in, which is a relief. As much as Steve loves his cousin and his cousin’s grandma, George Mullner holds a grudge that transcends generations. Steve doesn’t quite slink into the kitchen, following the sound of humming, but it’s a close thing. He all but flops onto the older Beta from behind, one hand moving to snag a scoop of cookie dough.

“Oh! Steve, here for Alex?” She asks, smacking his hand away giving him a fond exasperated look from the corner of her eye.

He moves to stand next to her.

“Yes ma’am.”

She swats at him with a dish towel.

“How many times, boy? Evelyn or Grammy. None of that ma’am stuff allowed.

“At least once more, probably.”

Alex chooses that moment to come into the kitchen.

“No, absolutely not!” Steve states firmly.

Alex blinks dopily at him, one hand raised in a wave. Slowly the hand drops and he tilts his head like a puppy.

“Huh?”

Steve raises an eyebrow judgementally, looking his Beta cousin up and down.

“You are not wearing that.”

“What’s wrong with what I’m wearing?”

Steve shares a long suffering look with Evelyn. Honestly, that boy has only survived this long because of them.

“It’s beyond fucking cold outside, knumbskull, and a basic bitch hoodie and tennis shoes aren’t going to cut it. It’s amazing you’ve survived this long.”

Evelyn swats at Steve again.

“Language, Chipmunk, but he’s right, Starling, it’s far too cold to just wear that.”

Alex sticks his tongue out at both of them, turning around and heading back into his room. They can hear him bitching the entire way.

“I know you have a heavy coat! Put that on over your hoodie if you must wear it! And boots!”

“Kiss my backside, Harrington!”

They leave the house later, cocoa steaming in their travel mugs and a little bag of cookies. Alex is wearing his dark green heavy coat, hands shoved deep into the pockets.

“Thanks for coming to the festival with me, I know you hate the cold.”

Steve knocks his shoulders against Alex’s. The Omega in him wanting to bite and tear at the reason his cousin looks so sad. Unfortunately, Alex won’t let him.

“Anything for family, right?”

The walk to the beach, to the Squid Festival is calming, the cousins catching each other up on what happened during their week apart. Steve’s got his backpack over his shoulder, squid bait and fishing pole held safely in the magiced folds. Hawk’s End isn’t that far from Pelican Town but helping around the farm and keeping the pack of children he’s all but adopted from biting it in the dark woods keep him from visiting as often. The docks are set up with bright lights and pretty streamers. Steve chances a look at his cousin frowning at the look on his face.

“You’re pouting.”

Following Alex’s line of sight Steve scowls at what he sees. The current bane of his existence.

“Fuck off,” Alex mutters looking away.

Clenching his hands as Alex’s warm scent starts to sour slightly he trips the Beta at his side.

“Want me to roast him?”

Alex startles, laughing.

“No… maybe?”

Jumping at the chance to let his inner mean girl out, Steve grins viciously. He turns back toward his target.

The blond in question is unaware of what is about to go down.

“His hair looks so crunchy, I’m surprised no one has tried to spread it on bread. You can practically see the points trying to break through the beanie he’s somehow managed to shove on his head,” Steve says in his best, bitchiest, voice.

It’s a lie, sort of , for as gelled as Sam’s hair is, it flattens nicely. It does, however, look crunchy as hell. It takes an insane amount of gel to keep spikes that spiky. He is rewarded with ugly snorting from his cousin. Score one for Steve!

“I bet he thinks those skinny jeans make his ass pop but he’s flatter than Eddie. There is negative ass there. An absolute ass travesty.”

“Oh my god. Stop, please. Bring in the mean girl.”

Alex is fighting for breath, arms wrapped around his gut. His scent warm again. Good. Steve huffs playfully.

“Just take my fun away, why don’t you?”

Alex pulls him into a halfhearted headlock.

“Not the hair! Alex!”

They roughhouse, almost bumping into a dour smelling Sebastian, and actually knocking down Lewis. They spring apart, fleeing before the mayor can catch his breath. They reconvene at the end of the long deck. They, or at least he, isn’t going to fish there. Steve’s not sure why but this end has always frightened him. Even as a child he was scared that something would rise from the deep and drag him down.

Instead, once they’re sure that Lewis isn’t going to appear like an avenging angel they head back toward Willy’s. The old fisherman is chatting up Wayne. Both of them are laughing and shoving at each other. Steve spots several other Hawk’s End residents. He jabs his elbow into Alex’s side.

“Dude!”

Alex groans, digs into his pocket and slaps five gold coins into Steve’s palm. He knew Mr Wheeler was seeing someone in Pelican Town! He just wasn’t expecting it to be Murray fucking Bauman. But there he is, three years post amicable divorce sucking face with the local conspiracy theorist who thinks a shadow monster lives in Pelican Town’s sewers. Then someone else walks up to the duo being welcomed into the fold curly hair and glasses who also pulls Mr Wheeler in for a kiss. Huh. Go Mr Wheeler, go.

They settle into chairs Willy has set out for the people fishing. Steve nods a greeting to Wayne and sets about putting together his rod. He’s not the best fisherman, that honor belongs to his cousin Haymitch, but he had a look at the prizes. Uncle Theodore likes weird art so that painting would be a nice gift for the man who raised him.

It’s relaxing. Fishing with Alex at his side even if the Beta is making jabs at him when a fish gets away. Which is, honestly, pretty often. Then Alex sucks in a deep breath, a low whine coming from his throat.

There at the end of the dock is Sam and Shane. Shane is reeling in a fish and Sam is all but hanging off his back.

“He just put a squid in his head,” Steve says dumbly.

Hands so lax that he would lose his rod if it wasn’t also held between his legs. Sam is dancing around with said squid, the squid that Shane pulled up.

“Yes he did.”

It’s said tightly. Pain ringing every word.

“Why would he- oh…”

Shane throws back his head, laughing loudly. It’s a startling sound. One you can feel deep in one’s bones. Steve has never understood Alex’s attraction to the Alpha with purple hair until that moment. He could fall in love with a laugh like that. Has fallen in love because of a laugh.

Alex is hunched over in his chair. The picture of depression and that just won’t do.

“I’mma go spill this cocoa on him. It’s cold now, it won’t hurt him,” Steve adds the last part to reassure Alex.

“No!”

“I’m bored of fishing. Here, you do it.”

He shoves his rod into Alex’s hands, standing up. He’s an Omega on a mission and no one will stop him.

“You are a child.”

Steve opens his mouth, come back right there on his tongue. Has to bite it down.

“Usual come back wouldn’t work here, would it?”

“Nope! Not at all. Wish me luck!”

“I am not saving you if Shane throws you in the ocean,” Alex warns him.

Shane wouldn’t, Steve doesn’t think. But that doesn’t mean Steve won’t be accidentally pushed into the ocean if the Alpha overreacts. Still, he has a cousin to cheer up and flirting to stop.

He manages to avoid an unpleasant swim in freezing waters and thanks to Alex fishing for him he manages to skate in with just enough squids to get the painting. He gets a book on crabs that he thinks Haymitch might like and a Pearl he can gift Eddie. Maybe get the wet cat of a Beta to blush and chew on his hair. Which is cute no matter what Robin says. Thank you very much. All and all not a bad first day. Maybe tomorrow he can get his knumbskull of a cousin to actually talk to his crush. Distract Sam somehow. With a firm nod Steve begins to plot.