#he also loves to blow up how could I not love him

[unknown-cold]

It's fanny how some people call her evil era.

We never saw her kill an innocent person, even when my friend saw the show he is not a fan of Arcane but he saw a lot of comments about it and I also urged him to watch it after all the excitement around it when I asked him about his opinion on the show and especially the character of Caitlyn he told me, he expected after all the posts and comments about her that she would go to Zaun and kill people with her gun he didn't expect that she just wears a costume that looks like a vampire and looks tough and mean, she would get this much hate. He even asked me why people don't talk or blame Ambessa isn't she the main reason behind most of the problems in this season and also Singed or even Silco and his allies?

I couldn't answer him except that people have double standards and are hypocrites because their criticism of Caitlyn's character is not because she did one bad thing but because she is from Piltover and an enforcer. I'm sure if Caitlyn was from Zaun and did worse things they would sympathize with her and love her, so their criticism is so hypocritical and has double standards. In short, their criticism of a character is not because she did bad things, but because of who she is and where she is from.

They forget that silco kills a lot of people, mainly people from the undercity, even kids, LOL have put a mini game on the clien and there you could find out that Silco use kids as lab rat to test the chem tanks.

And I'm sure now someone will come and tell me that Caitlyn used the gas on all of Zaun and killed people with it. Seriously idiot where did you get this? Can you show me a picture from the show that people died because of gray, and if it's true then the characters must are talking about it, that Caitlyn uses gray to kill innocent people. So this claim is not true, we saw at the beginning of episode 3 how Caitlyn used the gas strategically and not randomly and Amanda confirmed that. So she used it to catch gangs there. Because logically, 5 people wouldn't go to catch hundreds of gang members that easily, and also if one of the people got hurt Ekko would have talked about it and we know that Ekko is the most loyal person to his people, so even Ekko himself didn't complain about using gray, yes he and Scar were talking about the gangs that were working with Silco, and they didn't care about gray, why? Because this gas didn't hurt them.

Even if it hurt them and that using it was an evil act, why didn't you say this when Jinx used it on Piltover and injured innocent people, women and children, she didn't target enforcers for example, Jinx use the Grey randomly unlike Caitlyn, but is anyone talking about this? Of course not. And worse when I saw comments saying that Jinx should blow up Piltover again and eliminate the people of Piltover. Like some people have shown their true colors, that they don't care if a character did something bad or good, all they care about is who this character is.

And because Jinx is from Zaun and they have every right to do bad things, but Piltover doesn't even if they do good things they are still bad, what a shallow and ridiculous thinking. some Arcane fandom are probably the most stupid fandom nowadays, to them everyone from Zaun is a perfect angel who never do nothing wrong, everyone from Piltover is a monster with no feelings

The show is not black and white, that only exists in Disney movies, go and watch it if you are this kind of boring and traditional storytelling, Arcane proves every day that this show is not for everyone and if you want to enjoy it you have to open your mind well and be open-minded, and most importantly put politics and real life issues aside, and enjoy this fantasy world with flawed characters and good writing. (This show is not designed to solve political issues at the end of the day. It is a show based on a video game)

Morally, I do not agree with a Caitlyn's Evil Cop Era. The lesbian in me, however, really likes that dumbass coat.

Like. Really likes it.

[ultravi0lence14]

Thoroughfare

DEAN WINCHESTER X DOE!READER

WARNINGS: sexual content (MDNI), fingering, hair pulling, finger sucking. first smut, pls i know it’s bad🫣

SUMMARY: with a light whisper of ‘do you wanna see the west with me?’ dean had you right where he wanted; by his side and sitting pretty in the front seat of his car.

WC: 3.3k

the humid air of the western skies lingered on your skin, bringing a humid and sticky sheen to your arms and shoulders. dean had all the windows rolled down, a testament to the light breeze that broke through the stickiness of montana.

your cotton tank top stuck to your skin, slick sweat making you feel like it had melded with your body. the cutoff’s you wore weren’t any better, adhering to your thighs like glue. the stubborn weather of a mid july afternoon didn’t allow for any cold; no chill wracking you through the bone, only a sickly, immobilizing heat that crashed through your senses and made it’s way into your dna.

though some part of you didn’t seem to mind. the rolled down windows allowed you to stick your head out the open space, wind blowing in your hair as you took in the blurred and rolling sights of crooked leafless trees and dried up fields.

dean wasn’t any better. one of his hands rested on the steering wheel, long nimble fingers clutched tightly so he could steer you to wherever the road leads you two. his other hand — firm in it’s grip, rested on your thigh. his fingers travelled into the inside of your leg, fingers delicately dancing across the seem of your shorts as his eyes stared at you from his peripheral vision.

you were ethereal, an angel sent from God just for him. your hair, unruly in how the wind tossed it about, was flowing behind you like a fairy with her wings. the side profile of your face was directed towards dean, your back facing the passenger side door as you stuck your head out in the placid and dry air.

the fullness of your cheeks was properly on display to dean’s eager eyes, and he wanted nothing more than to run his lips across the skin, brushing delicate kisses onto your cheeks and face until you were covered in his love. he could faintly see the plump pout of your own lips, eyes shimmering with admiration and desire as he pictured running his tongue across them; your soft lips pressed timidly against his as he pulled you into his body, almost swallowing you whole.

he loved you, so incandescently. you were the face of beauty, a true goddess in the eyes of the eldest winchester. it wasn’t just your delicate features that pulled dean in, it was the way you carried yourself, a graceful mist following you wherever you went.

softness rolled off of you in tidal waves, and dean loved how your gentle nature contrasted and grounded his frequent pessimistic and grumpy behaviour. the human embodiment of a doe; a creature full of love and life, who walked through flower gardens erupted by spring like it was her calling.

it didn’t help that your eyes resembled one of the animal; big and round, always so soft and caring. he loved you so much, it physically made his soul ache.

you were always there for him, never wavering even when times got tough. you didn’t love his job, believing that hunting was dangerous and the stem of all of his childhood and lasting trauma. but dean always waved you off, saying that this was his life, and he would never do anything that would jeopardize a life and future with you.

but he could still see the emotional tole it was taking on you, weighing on your heart like a heavy burden that you shouldn’t be carrying. he ached for you to feel secure in this life that he was giving you, but dean also knew that everyone needed breaks. so, he decided to give you one.

a couple nights ago, the two of you found yourselves tangled in the sheets of a nebraskan motel, limbs intertwined as dean embraced you in his arms, your fingers drawing small hearts on his chest.

“let’s go to california.” the random outburst from dean had you pulling away from him slightly, lifting up on your elbows so you could get a better look at the man who’s eyes glimmered with hope and mischief. “what are you talking about, dean?”

“what i’m trying to say is,” dean sat up as he spoke, resting against the headboard and grabbing your hips so he could pull you into his lap. “let’s go to california. you are always begging me to go to malibu, and you deserve a vacation every now and then.”

the smile on your lips was beaming, a shine that could light up a thousand skies. dean wanted to bottle it up, put it in a jar, and never let it leave his side. he felt your hands move to his shoulders, those big, beautiful eyes staring at him with unbridled excitement. “you’re being serious right now? this isn’t just some sick joke?”

“no jokes baby,” he drawled, hand brushing your soft hair away from your face. pulling his face closer to yours so he could brush his lips against your ear, dean whispered so softly you believed you were imagining it. “do you wanna go see the west with me, pretty girl?”

you were elated the whole car ride, excitedly babbling about all the things you two would do in the golden state. as the nights rolled into days, the air started to get more and more humid, which led to the very moment that dean was in now. he shook his head from the memory of how he got here, watching your smile take up your whole face as you giggled at something unbeknownst to him. he didn’t really think about the why, he was too busy getting drunk on the sound of your laugh.

lightly patting your thigh, dean grinned over at your windswept and sticky frame as your giggles danced alongside the flow of the wind. “c’mon crazy girl, get back in here. can’t have you falling out.” his words held a joking lilt, yet you could see the concern in dean’s eyes. with a joking huff, you retreated back into the car, legs immediately sticking to the leather as the hot air melded your skin like sticky glue.

“oh c’mon dean, it’s so hot.” you groaned out, another giggle rippling through your lips as you saw dean playfully role his eyes in your peripheral. “i can basically feel my skin melting off.”

“you’re so dramatic,” his teasing was palpable, you could feel it in the way his smile reached his eyes and how his fingers clutched a little tighter onto your thigh. “what do you think cali’s going to be like, baby? think it’s going to be an ice box?”

letting out a grunt as you smacked his arm, dean watched with love struck eyes as your grin got impossibly even more wide. “you’re such a jerk, dean winchester!” dean swore he has never smiled harder in his life than when he was with you. that sweet, playful nature always brought out the best in him, and he didn’t even dare think about a life without your brightened presence.

crossing your arms over your chest, those pretty pink lips dean loved so much puffed out in a pretty pout. dean’s hand itched on your thigh, wanting to reach up and pull down your bottom lip. “i’m prepared for the weather in california, dean.” your voice broke him from his revere, making dean slightly cough as he intently listened to your ramble

“we won’t be spending all the time in the car. we’ll be at the beach, santa monica pier — oh i’m so excited for all the rides!” the vibrant glimmer of your excitement shined through the car, hitting dean straight in his heart, spreading until it was pumping through his veins.

“yeah, no rides, doe.” the previous excitement in your eyes dwindled, a shocked expression breaking through. “what? we have to go on the rides dean! it’s almost like a birthright.” he just loved how you expressed yourself, loving how when you defended the things you loved, your eyes got wild and your cheeks tinted. it was such a pretty sight, though dean was starting to believe everything about you was pretty.

dean’s words came through his lips in a chuckle, a grin etched onto his face as he looked at your pretty features. “i don’t do rides. never have, never will. sorry, sweets.”

shaking your head in disdain, a sad pout decorated your face, turning towards dean as he continued to drive down the desolate, montana road. “you’re such a buzz kill, do you even know what fun is?”

your question was a joke, your voice light and airy as it always was, but this time with a twinkle of comedy. but dean was already so wound up from the image of how pretty you looked with the wind blowing in your hair, illuminating you like a framed painting, that an idea slid into the depths of his mind.

a smirk adorned his lips as he shifted the wheel, pulling the impala off to the side of the road. your face twisted up in confusion as dean pulled the gear shift into park, cutting the ignition and turning his body to face you. your lips parted in question, about to voice your thoughts before dean’s hands grabbed at your calves.

with a squeak from your lips, dean hauled your legs onto the front seat, moving your body so your back was leaned against the door. he then tracked his fingers down the smooth expanse of your skin, grabbing at your ankles and pulling you down until you laid flat on your back.

the space was cramped, but dean somehow found a way to make it work; bending your legs at the knees and spreading them open so he could fit in between them. words were lodged in your throat, a sputter of air leaving your lips as dean situated himself. he had that shit eating grin on his face, and you could already tell that he had something wild up his sleeve.

“dean!” you exclaimed, hands going to rest against his chest as a laugh erupted from your lips. “what are you doing?”

he just smirked, trailing his hands from your ankles up your thighs, one hand gripping your waist as the other worked to pop the button of your shorts. “just showing my girl how fun i can really be.”

the words that fell from his lips were amplified with the sound of your zipper undoing, and your eyes widened suddenly at the realization of what dean had in mind.

“we can’t do this now, dean.” you exasperated, hands pushing at his chest as his fingers worked to take off your pants. “someone could drive by, they could see us for christ’s sake!”

dean just leaned down to leave a lingering kiss on your forehead, shimmying the waistband of your shorts a little ways down your waist before his hand on your hip shifted to go under your ass. “no one’s been on the road for miles, sweet thing. we’re alone, everything is going to be okay.” his words were followed by the softening of his eyes, the hand that had been undoing your zipper went up to stroke your cheek. “do you trust me?”

sliding your hands up from his chest to around his shoulders, a soft, serene smile graced your lips. you brought your face upward, brushing your mouth against his as the shallow breath’s leaving dean’s lips hit your own. “of course, i always do.”

you felt him smile against your lips, placing a delicate kiss on your nose before he pulled back slightly. “good,” he breathed, hands going back to your waistband. “now, lift your hips f’me, baby.”

a dusty blush adorned your cheeks as you obliged, hips lifting slightly as dean slid your jean shorts from your legs. when they got to your ankles, dean helped you kick them off, picking them up and throwing them somewhere in the backseat with a grin.

“that’s much better.” words wrapped around a grin as his fingers dipped into the waistband of your panties. the giggle that left your lips at his comment turned into a shallow whimper as one of his fingers dipped into your folds, his fingers slipping through your already wet cunt.

a breath left dean’s lips, eyes blowing wide as he watched your face twist in pleasure from the finger he had down your pants. “jesus, sweets, you’re already fucking soaked. did i do this to you? was it my words and my finger that got you this wet?”

a high pitched ‘mhm’ left your lips as you nodded your head, eye’s half lidded as you watched dean stare down at his finger teasing your folds. moving the finger that was teasing your entrance towards your clit, lightly pressing down and eliciting a sharp moan from deep in your gut. “there’s my girl,” dean cooed, his fingers moving in tight circles on your sensitive bud. “you’re doing so good for me baby, such a good fucking girl.”

the sensation was overwhelming, a shot of bliss the curled in your gut and wound into your soul. your half-lidded eyes caught sight of dean, his head down as he watched the way his finger played with your clit. the mid-day sun was washing over his figure, bathing him in such a light that made him look almost angelic.

as dean pulled his finger away, you felt a sense of emptiness unfurl in your stomach. a deep whine left your lips, hips lifting upwards to try and chase the high that dean was providing you. “more dean. please, give me more.”

“patience, pretty girl.” his voice was soft, but there was an air of demand and dominance that hid behind the cracks of his voice. “i’m just getting started. didn’t know you were so needy for me.”

another whine tore from the depths of your throat, whimpering as dean slid the side of your underwear out of the way, exposing your cunt to his eyes and the cold air that was whirling through the car’s vents. a groan rumbled in his throat, your eyes half lidded as you watched him put the finger covered in your slick in his mouth.

“jesus christ, you taste like a fucking dream.” his words sound slurred, and they were heightened as two of his fingers went back to your leaking pussy, prodding at your entrance as tiny whimpers left your throat. “i can’t wait to see how you look stuffed with my fingers, gushing all over my hand like the good girl i know you are.”

the whine that would’ve left your lips at his words turned into a deep moan, dean’s middle and pointer finger entering your tight walls, his own ragged breaths mixing with yours as he felt you clenching around him.

he watched as your breathing grew ragged, chest heaving up and down as you gripped onto his shoulders for dear life. he didn’t want to make you uncomfortable, so dean waited until you gave him the green light, his other hand smoothing down the hair the fell in your face.

after a couple of moments, he felt your hips rut into his hand, eyes screwing shut in pure pleasure. that was all he needed to thrust his fingers into your tight walls.

high pitched whimpers left your lips as dean’s fingers prodded at your cervix, a guttural moan leaving your lips as he brushed against your g-spot.

“there it is,” he breathed, hollow breaths leaving his own lips as he watched his fingers go in and out of you. “that’s the spot, isn’t it baby? you like it when my fingers make you feel good?”

all you could let out was a guttural moan, hands clawing at dean’s clothed chest for any sign of resolve. too caught up in your own pleasure, you didn’t realize that dean had forgotten to roll up the windows, your loud moans and whines flowing through the wind and alerting anyone who drove by about what was going on inside of the impala.

but in the moment, you didn’t seem to care. dean started to move his fingers faster, your hips rutting up to meet the frenzied pace of his hand. the coil in your stomach was starting to tighten more and more, and you couldn’t help but scrunch your eyes closed and slightly turn your head as the euphoric feelings started to intensify.

though that didn’t last for long, because without a warning, the hand that dean had previously used to smooth down your hair tangled in it’s strands, gripping tightly as he pulled your head upwards so you were face to face with him.

“open those pretty eyes for me, sweetheart.” his voice held that same softness with a lilt of dominance, fingers quickening as he felt your orgasm approach. “i wanna see you when you cum. see how good i make you feel when i fuck you with my fingers.”

your eye’s shot open, lips parted and heavy pants and whines leaving your throat as dean kept going with the relenting pace. “i can’t- fuck, dean! i’m gonna cum!”

the pace at which dean’s fingers were moving inside of you was relentless. each thrust of his fingers hitting your g-spot as his piercing green eyes stared into yours. at your words, he moved a little faster, lips brushing yours as his voice travelled from his lips to yours. “c‘mon, my sweet girl, come for me.”

you could feel it, the bliss that started in your core and creeped it’s way into your entire body. the coil in your stomach tightening and tightening until, like a crashing wave, it gave way.

you came with a loud cry, back arched and head leaning into dean’s hand embedded into your hair. you watched as dean kept moving his fingers inside of you even as you gushed around his fingers. he was transfixed, completely enchanted by the bliss that took over your face.

“there you go,” he cooed, the hand in your hair lessening as his fingers started to slow down. “pretty girl, all messed up, coming on my fingers. you look fucking unreal.”

his words were mixed in with the small whimpers that left your lips, mouth parted and cheeks flushed with bliss. there was drool running down the corners of your mouth, and you felt as dean took his hand out of your hair and wiped it away with his thumb.

you whined as he pulled his fingers out, feeling empty without his fingers deep inside of you. looking down, you watched as your juices spilled out of your entrance, dean immediately dipping his two already wet fingers in the mess and putting them in front of your mouth.

“open up for me, doe. want you to taste yourself on my fingers.” with wide, wet eyes, you parted your lips for dean to place his two fingers on your tongue. when you closed your mouth, sucking on the two digits, you felt as the pads of middle and pointer finger prodded at the back of your throat.

“that’s my girl.” dean breathed out, watching in awe as he stared at your pretty face sucking your juices off of his fingers. he swore you weren’t real in that moment, too good to be true. yet as you swirled your tongue around his fingers, he realized that you were his, and he was yours, and he wouldn’t trade that for the world.

as you came down from your high, dean cleaned you up with a napkin that he found in his centre console. when he was done, he helped you sit up, moving your underwear back into place and allowing you to take a breather.

realizing your shorts were in the backseat, you leaned over the seat to try and find them, jumping as you felt dean land a smack on your ass.

“jesus dean,” you laughed, grabbing your shorts and sitting back down. “can’t get enough can you?”

“when it comes to you?” he grinned, turning the car back on and starting to pull back onto the street. “i can never have enough,”

TAGS: @haunteres @starzify @floralscented @titsout4jackles @deansbeer @honeyryewhiskey @foolinthera1n @vaiieydoii @bluemerakis

NAT BABBLES: i’ve been so wrapped up with my angel series, that i wanted to reset and write a little dean story. also, this is my first time writing smut, so i know it’s probably ass, but just bare with me😭

[ditzydoe444]

MDNI 18+

eager bunny reader taking jason’s huge cock! ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚

big dick! jason x bunny! reader

jason todd smut

it was no secret that jason had a big dick, the man was built like a greek god. he had broad shoulders, biceps that were so big they could easily crush you, and his thick thighs. you were pretty damn sure you could get off from his thighs alone. he was a good eight and a half, going to nine when hard, his girth was thick enough for you to see stars with just a few thrusts. he wasn’t as neatly trimmed as other guys you’ve been with, though you didn’t care, there was just something charming about a rugged man who didn’t care.

his big dick, also gave jason a big ego. he would text you late at night, asking you to come over, which you do because of the mind-blowing orgasms he would give you. he would fuck you like his personal toy, and his thrusts were deep and hard, making you were clinging onto the furniture you were on for dear life whilst letting out the most pathetic whines. the size difference between you two was comical, you barely reached his chest, so when you guys fucked it was like his own sex doll.

when jason texted you at 1 a.m. in the morning, you couldn’t help but respond within seconds. you basically jumped out of bed, wearing the skimpiest pyjama set, despite knowing that jason wouldn’t care. he would rip the set off within seconds without sparing a second glance.

the moment you arrived at his apartment jason kissed you roughly before shoving the door shut. “miss you sweet thing,” he groaned, as his hands gripped your waist tighter. jason pulled away from the kiss, his gaze scanning down your body in the small sleep set. a slow grin formed on his face, “you picked this out for me?” he asked gently tugging the small straps of your top. you nodded shyly, jason had never noticed small things like these until now, your intentions were to capture his attention, and now that you have you felt more flustered than ever.

“love that you thought of me bun,” he whispered softly, his hands roaming around your body. “such a good little thing aren’t ya?” his hands gripped your ass tightly, prompting a small whine from you. you needed him bad.

“seems like you are desperate too,” jason groaned before he easily picked you up, heading to his room. with the size difference between you two, jason would easily manhandle you, throwing you on the bed and putting you in positions that allowed him to fuck you like a fleshlight.

the moment he carried you into his room, he threw you onto the mattress. he didn’t waste a second before completely tearing your pyjama set, “jay,” you whined seeing how he easily discarded the fabric. “i’ll buy you another one bun,” he mumbled as he kisses you, “just let me fuck this pretty little pussy first yeah?” he asked before pulling down his grey sweatpants which revealed his black boxer briefs. he was so big the boxers barely did anything to conceal the outline. it was begging to be released.

jason looked at you with his eyebrows raised, “knees to your chest bun.” with no hesitation you lifted them up to your chest, where his strong hands basically pressed you down like a sandwich. one of his hands drifted from your legs to your waist gripping it tightly, whilst his other slowly traced around your wet folds. “already soaked for me bun,” you could tell jason just wanted to shove his cock in you, but with his size he always needed to stretch you out. “don’t have to wait jay,” you mumbled softly, god you were so hungry for his dick you didn’t even care about being stretched out beyond belief.

jason gave a small grin, “so good for me,” he whispered before he tugged his boxer briefs down, the messy untrimmed hair that pointed down to his fat cock that was already leaking with precum. you felt his fat tip nudging towards you, before he slowly sank in, you taking him inch by inch. “you know, i always love seeing this,” jason said as he gently outlined the small bulge in your tummy from him. there was just something about seeing someone much smaller than him so eager to take his dick knowing it basically impaled them in half. hence why jason always called you bun, or his bunny. you were always so eager to please him and a little ditzy, and god he loved it. the way you saw him like a god and how he could manipulate you just to have you drooling and choking all over his cock turned him on.

his large hands encircled your waist as he started to thrust into you, his fat cock disappearing into your right cunt. “you always take me so well bun,” he groaned at the sight, you were always so accommodating it was cute. “j-jay,” you whined, he was so big to the point you could come in a few thrusts alone. “not yet bun, we just started,” jason’s hands gripped your waist tighter before his thirsts started to pick up.

he held you so tightly you couldn’t even squirm, just forced to sit down and take his fat cock. you held onto the back of your thighs weakly as they bounced with his thrusts. you were making the most lewd noises, as you squeezed him tight. he was in so deep, hitting and abusing all of the sweet spots you had so easily. “mph- you’re so big,” you whined as the sound of his balls slapping against you filled the room. jason grinned. “i know bun, you take me so well like a sweetheart.”

“c-close” you whine, your neck craning to see the sight of his cock drilling into you making you so full and stuffed with a bulge. “you’re gonna come bun?” jason asks as his thrusts pick up, he loved watching you come, the sight of your eyes shut with your mouth parted open making the most erotic noises turned him on. “y-yeah” you babbled out, you couldn’t even think straight let alone answer this damn questions.

“have i fucked you dumb?” jason grinned watching you shut your eyes in pleasure. “m-mph, no,” you responded poorly, which only made jason grin more. jason’s tone lowered slightly, “don’t lie to me bun, or else you won’t come.”

the comment alone was enough for you to open your eyes wide, your brain was trying to come up with responses but failed as you were being fucked dumb like he said. “y-yes, ‘m being fucked dumb,” you whined, your breaths cutting your own sentences short.

“knew you were lyin’ to me bun,” jason grumbled, “don’t lie next time alright? liars don’t get to come.” you immediately responded, staring into his eyes your eyes wide. “i-i promise i won’t lie to you!”

jason grinned seeing how much power he had on you, the moment he pinched your clit, it was over. you let out the loudest moan as you came and squirted on his cock. you coming didn’t stop jason as he continued to drill into you harshly, fucking you like his own personal fleshlight.

[sasahuaa]

Guide on how to get married (by the God of Spring)

Synopsis: To love and be loved is the greatest blessing both deities received, as conversations about the future started to arise, the deity of the Underworld was afraid of forever ruining their lover, but the god of spring begs to differ.

A retelling with Persephone!Childe and Hades!gn!reader

first time writing more os reader’s pov instead of the character bc it would fit better in this, honestly both Childe and reader bullshit their perspective a lot, reader is a bit insecure but not unwilling, and Childe kinda comforts them in the end, the three-day ceremony is a mention how the ancient greek did weddings but not very much dived into in this situation (I tried to research how gods used to marry in mythology but I didn’t find any descriptions, just a “oh and then they got married/was forced to marry”, genuinely, is there any hellenic text that describes it? so this fic is just a non conventional way of eloping)

The god of spring giggled merrily as he put a flower crown on your head, his deft fingers making the flowers bloom and release pollen, he lowered his hands until they wrapped around your neck, blowing wind to your face with plenty of petals following his will.

Years ago, when both of you met for the first time, he wasn't as keen to physical touch like he is now, seeking your warmth willingly and falsely whining when his needs aren't met. Your younger selves met during one of your outings from the Underworld, the melancholic reign is suffocating and gloomy on good days, and a living nightmare in the worsts.

To look at the bright sky and hear the song of the birds were incomparable experiences after dealing with the screams of agony from wandering souls. And though Childe couldn't say he faced the same situation, he still delighted anytime he ran away too far away from his home, for to go around the world filled him with indescribable joy.

It was kind of amusing, if not borderline insane, that from all the people that he could choose to have a relationship with, from gods to mortals, he would choose just the one that home was almost like a prison.

And there was always a pinch of guilt when you thought about the future, Childe would often babble about it, how he wanted to spend it with you, to the decorations and foods your house should have to the names of possible pets. This saddens you so, because for the way the god talked, it would mean that the Underworld would lock him in.

For all the years spent together, though still indulging him in his dreams when he mentions them, you never really took a step to really achieve them. It was just obvious, marrying the deity of the underworld is the worst fate to exist.

And you loved him so much, he was really the ray of sunshine that your home misses, a flame of affection so gentle that contrasts with the cold and dark walls of your palace. Being with him was one of the best things that happened to you, as his love for you also burns deep and is capable of igniting even a forest of ice, and yet, your heart hurted from imagining how miserable Childe would be if they end up together forever.

You hoped that Childe saw that the same way, that it meant giving up his freedom to partake in the food from your realm. But yet, most things hardly ever go your way.

“We should marry already” he smiled, his eyes so usually dull sparkled at the mere word “It has been a while, don't you think so?”

“An” you avoided his eyes, the flower crown slowly started to wilt, though you were unsure if this was result of your own nervousness as you lost control of death or if it was a sign of Childe's impatience, and an excuse needed to be made quickly, before the other god lost his spark again! “I am not acquaintanced with marriage rituals, beloved”

Even if it was a dumb, shit excuse!

“Different cultures have different customs” Childe waved a finger before your face “As for the godly customs… while I would like the usual three-day ceremony, I would also very much appreciate a banquet in the name of our love.”

“Why not celebrate the three-day ceremony?”

“You know the other gods wouldn't agree to that” his shoulders slumped “Worst case scenario we should pretend that you kidnapped me”

“Oh” you blinked a couple of times before his suggestion downed on you, immediately making the probably most smart decision of pretending you heard nothing and focus on the important part, Childe's freedom! “Maybe the other gods have a point-”

“Never” Childe said between his teeth “I know what is better for myself”

“... I see”

“So the proper way our wedding should proceed is being served the best food of all realms!”

The best food of all realms! You certainly could work with that, after all, Childe never tasted the Underworld food to appoint it as the best, and since the only way for him to be imprisoned there is by eating its food… You could avoid giving it to him entirely!

“You are right” he smiled sweetly at the praise “When would be a proper date for our wedding?”

"Right now”

“... oh”

“Listen to me, this is the ideal moment, before anyone else get wind of this”

“Alright” you sighed, catching his hands in your and bringing to your mouth to deliver small pecks on his knuckles. The god of spring felt goosebumps up his arms at the cold touch, kissing your lips as if to warm them with his.

There was a strain in your stomach as you opened a cleft through the earth, a clear passage to the Underworld right in front of your feet. It's the first time that Childe will venture these walls, and you couldn't help but worry that he would feel grossed out by the dark surroundings.

Stealing a glance in his direction, Childe looked around the place in interest, there was almost a skip in his steps, and his smile was as bright as it was when the both of you first confessed.

“Nice landscape, it seems like a lovely place”

Well, you guess you should know by now that Childe is not easily scared by the things the other gods avoid.

The deity praised your palace as you guided him, not once releasing his grip on your hand the whole way. As you entered the dining room and pulled a chair for him, you muttered a lowly sorry “I know you asked for a banquet, but this situation is very sudden, so I won't have much food available”

“You worry too much, love, any food is good” Childe pinched your cheeks and dismissed you to the kitchens.

It was quite untrue to say that your home was lacking food, for even the undead or the other resident deities enjoy to regale themselves with good food from time to time, what is true is the short stock of Overworld food, as you don't bring much back with you during your trips and most are gifts to the sleep deity that their earthly friends give them.

Either way, with the little you have you carefully prepare his meal, with a side dish containing figs and lotuses, a wine glass also was included on the tray. You knew that everything that was plated were things that he enjoyed, everything was accounted for, as you do love him and don't want to serve Childe anything less than perfect.

And yet, when the dishes were placed before Childe and you saw his eyes slowly darken and the corner of his mouth tensing, you felt a chill up your spine and a sense of dread in your chest. Your body momentarily paralyzed when he began to talk.

“My love, why didn't you serve me Underworld food?” the god of spring recomposed himself, eyes searching for yours when he looked up.

“Ajax, my dear, you know that the Underworld food will forever bound you to this place, I would never lock you here-”

“Why?” he interrupts sternly “I am aware of the consequences of eating anything from the Underworld, I was reminded constantly by my mother about it after the first time I met you, and I asked for eloping with food with purpose in mind”

You gapped at his words, dropping to your knees by his side and talking his hands in yours “Still, it would take your freedom away from you, I don't want you to resent being stuck here”

“I chose to spend forever with you and this is something I will never regret” Childe tightened his grip on you “But now I wonder if you had the intentions of spending forever with me at all”

“Of course I want to stay forever with you!” you immediately deny, hugging him close “You know the great cost of it though”

Childe sighed and petted your back, his gaze softened while he looked at you and cupped your face, tapping his index finger under your eye in admonishment.

“And I entered our relationship knowing that, I know you worry about me, but I know since the start what I got myself into and have been dreaming of that” Childe took a lotus seed in the middle of his fingers, forcing your mouth open with his other hand and placing the delicacy on your tongue “Won't you bring me proper food now, beloved?”

I began to write this because I had the phrase “He is not stuck with me, I am stuck with him” in mind but I guess I changed the writing direction by the end

fully focusing on Vil as an omega now, I am terrible with dates bc I figured I am a very slow writer, but I will try my best to post till sunday

[miange1]

I NEED MORE BRIAN MOSER AHHHH

Brian Moser, with a lover that's "too sweet"

male leaning reader, brian is a freak, being nervous more than shy, arguments, accidental guilt tripping, manipulation(at first), reader gives off innocence but they're not they're just a virgin, fake names, being overly touchy, blow jobs

note: had an idea so i just used this ask as an excuse to finally post it. also if you notice typos no you don't im not fixing them

— You were his first actual relationship in which didn't involve murder or trying to get closer to Dexter. Or so he remembers, he probably had that intention at first yet completely forgot about it due to his own feelings.

— Meeting you felt like a bunch of perfumes and flowers were thrown at his face— you were smiling and speaking with him like he was your long lost friend or your boyfriend, like you knew him since forever.

"Oh! Rudy!" He instantly felt his heart speed up, feeling more nervous than he's ever been in his entire life and you weren't even calling out his real name. He needs to calm down, seriously he's sweating way too much.

"I missed you so much, how have you been?" He felt your arms wrap around him tightly, yet ater the hug your hands took his and held them as if they were the most delicate things in the world, besides you.

The man could barely get his words out, stuttering every now and then and looking away from you often. Your thumb was swiping softly over the top of his knuckles, why were you looking at him like that.

— Getting with you was the most romantic thing he has ever thought of. Taking you out to a place where it was peaceful yet beautiful, and he could confess to you and actually mean it.

— It was the best place he could find, it was hot but lovely. When he confessed, you stayed quiet for far too long and he thought you didn't want him. You were just in so much shock, it's been a bit since someone was this genuine to you.

— Floating on air is what he felt like each time he was with you. When you were able to visit his work, you showed him with kisses each and every single time even after arguments which was something he would have a heavy weight on his shoulders about.

"Debra doesn't at all have a thing for me, what the hell are you talking about!" You were blinking back heavy tears trying to see his side as best as you could, yet everything just went a bit too far. From understanding to a plain bicker.

"It's obvious she does, and she's in your office more than I am!" He rolled his eyes, his fingers on his nose and pinching the bridge. He knew Debra had a thing for him, but what he didn't know was why he lied seeing you fight for him like this. He liked seeing you get jealous.

"Because it's her job." Yet you protested, "I understand that but.." you couldn't get the rest out, starting to cry and you instantly felt embarrassed. "Sorry— shit, I'm sorry.." His upset look rested, sighing as he went closer to you for an embrace.

"No, it's my fault." He admitted, his arms squeezing your frame in a comforting manner as you cried into his chest.

He was so turned on right now.

— Brian had a bunch in which you were a virgin, he just would have never guess he was actually right about it.

— All he wanted was a small make out for a bit, yet it had escalated and you were on your knees. God, you looked so pretty.

"Ah, ah, your teeth.. Good..that's it." He leaned his head back, the warmth of your mouth and tongue working at his girth. For your first time even giving head you were real good at following his directions. You did it just how he liked it. Tongue swirling, spit mixing with what leaked from him, it was heaven.

He jutted his hips forward a bit, catching you by surprise and giving you the urge to wanna pull back, which didn't happen due to Brian's fingers tangling in your hair— and pushing your head back forward. "Doing so well, fuck.." you practically weren't evenoving anymore, and if you were you had just been going ragdoll and moving along with Brian's pulls.

His dick twitched in your mouth as he heard a gargled moan, fuck he was gonna cum just from hearing that alone. Then he'd hear you whine, almost impatiently. "Hush you're fine, just keep on— God, yes.." eyes rolling back, feeling your nose poke at his pelvis the deeper he pushed you down when he came. Letting go of your hair, he let your head fall back a bit before he forced your mouth closed.

"Swallow."

— Sooner or later he would then wonder why you were a virgin in the first place, yet you did date people for long periods of time.

"I don't know, when I asked after break up they said they just couldn't."

— He got the hint for himself.

[bisexualbrainrots]

I've been thinking about these two, and like, it intrigues me how the weight of their experiences and some core elements (most likely) added to the breakup.

Like, just from canon alone I see that Tommy carries some weight on his shoulders from the person he used to be and his journey regarding his sexuality. He did hurt others by engaging in bigoted behavior in the past (and changed, which is good!). He probably spent at least a decade in the closet, figuring who he was and suffered from a comphet that made him almost marry a woman. Plus he's been out for less than 10 years and (possibly) didn't feel comfortable enough with himself until he got a clean slate. And he probably didn't have support when he came out, but that's a headcanon. I think this made him project that onto Buck, even if he didn't mean to.

And Buck's journey is nothing like Tommy's (from what we've seen).

Buck definitely carries wounds regarding his self-worth, he is somebody who thinks he's both too much and not enough. He didn't grow up in a supportive household, and the only person who did support him left. His sexual awakening, from what we saw, was a very different experience than what he's used too. He had people with him, he was immediately supported and told it didn't change how others saw him. The weight of his sexuality looks to be light, there seems to be barely any struggle, unlike Tommy. And I think it made Buck underestimate how bad it probably was for Tommy before.

Adding to that, there are also other elements to them that led to this mess.

Buck is impulsive, acts without thinking and doesn't grasp the consequences of his actions until they blow up on his face. And Tommy seems to act on self-preservation, he guards himself from danger and pain and acts on it. And it plays against them.

I think Buck's self-worth issues hit hard when he learned about the engagement, but not for that in itself.

I remember he actually looked intrigued when Tommy said he almost married a woman, and it wasn't until he knew it was Abby that he was put off and spiraled (side note: I hate the way they decided to canonize the Abby theory). It was that idea that if Tommy hurt someone Buck loved, then who's to say he wouldn't do the same to him, someone's who's "too much"?

I also think Buck's impulsivity set off Tommy's self-preservation alarms. Add that the (possible) projection he put onto him and it's no wonder Tommy ran, because, if he has hurt people before then who's to say Evan wouldn't do the same one day? If Evan's pace is fast then who's to say the relationship won't be too?

It's just, ughh there's so many layers I could peel off from this but it's also very much a stretch in my head.

Anyways, thanks for reading this? I don't know if it made any sense but hey, it doesn't really need to.

[mattsobvimyfav]

neighbors (matthew sturniolo)

pt 10

A couple of days had passed and Nick just posted the vlog from our drive around LA. Charlie and I were lounging on the couch, scrolling through our phones. My notifications had been blowing up all day. Every few seconds, a new comment popped up, most of them about the kiss Matt and I had shared in the vlog. The hate comments didn’t faze me—they were ridiculous and honestly kind of entertaining. People had too much time on their hands.

“Oh my God,” Charlie said, leaning over to peek at my phone. “They’re actually mad about a kiss? Like, of all things to care about.”

I shrugged, smirking. “Apparently, I’m public enemy number one. Should I frame this?”

She laughed, but before either of us could say more, my phone started buzzing. Matt’s name flashed on the screen. I answered quickly, putting the call on speaker.

“Hey,” I greeted casually, expecting him to laugh about the comments with me.

“Have you seen my comment section?” His voice was tense, his tone clipped.

I sat up straighter. “Uh, yeah. People are being dumb. Who cares?”

“I care,” he snapped. “It’s not just about you, Y/N. They’re not even saying awful things about me. Its just about how I ‘picked the wrong girl’ or whatever. It’s everywhere.”

Charlie raised an eyebrow at me, mouthing, ‘Seriously?’

“Matt, they’re just bitching,” I said, trying to stay calm. “You know none of that matters.”

“It’s easy for you to say,” he shot back. “Your TikTok isn’t flooded with comments about how I ‘deserve better’ or how you’re ‘using me for clout.’ It's pissing me off.”

I sighed, running a hand through my hair. “Okay, so what do you want to do? We can’t control what people say.”

There was a pause on the other end of the line before he spoke again, his tone softer but still firm. “Troll back. Lets just start making whatever we are way more public give them a real reason to be mad.” 

I hesitated, glancing at Charlie, who was already nodding eagerly as if to say, ‘Just do it.’

“Fine,” I said finally. “Let’s do it, I love being a dick online.”

Matt let out a breath, some of the tension easing from his voice. “Deal. I’ll come over later.”

As I hung up, Charlie smirked at me. “Hes gonna make you do porn on tiktok.”

“We havent even fucked,” I said, rolling my eyes. 

“WHAT?” She yelled jumping up sitting straight up “What the fuck was going on the other night than?” 

“He just ate me out and oh my god the hottest thing ever, he was so turned on that started jerking off. Just to eating me out” I said feeling a warmth between my legs rethinking about the night me and Matt shared.

“Wow. Thats really fucking hot, hes inlove with you” Charlie said looking away from me “Im picturing it in my head. I'm jealous” I laughed at her response as we laid back down going back to our phones. 

Later that night, Matt came over, his irritation over the comments still lingering but hidden under his usual calm demeanor. I greeted him at the door, grinning as I waved him inside. "Ready to show the internet who's boss?"

He smirked, shaking his head. "You mean, ready to show the internet that I don’t care, but also kind of care? Yeah, let’s do this."

Charlie, lounging on the couch with her popcorn, chimed in. “Make it iconic, okay? Something that makes the haters cry.”

Scrolling through TikTok, I landed on the “A boy who’s jacked and kind” trend. I turned the screen to Matt. “How about this one? It’s simple, it’s bold, and it’ll get them talking.”

Matt glanced at the screen, then at me, his lips quivering into a smirk. “You really think you can handle me lifting you like that?”

“Please,” I scoffed. “The question is whether you can handle me.”

Charlie snorted from the couch. “Oh, this is going to be good.”

We set up the phone, positioning it on the kitchen counter for the perfect angle. Charlie jumping around on the couch in the back, I stood in front of Matt as the trend’s audio began playing. The line “A boy who’s jacked” came up, and right on cue, Matt’s hands slid to my hips. With a swift, practiced motion, he lifted me effortlessly, placing me on his shoulder like I weighed nothing.

I couldn’t help the laugh that escaped me as I balanced on his shoulder, gripping onto him for support. The audio continued, transitioning to “and kind,” and Matt gave the camera with a playful grin, tapping my leg lightly.

Matt walked over grabbing his phone while I was still on his shoulders, added the caption: “my lady” and hit post.

Charlie shrugged, looking over Matt’s shoulder. “I like my cameo.”

Matt gently lowered me back to the ground, his hands lingering on my waist. “Think that’ll do the trick?”

I leaned into him slightly, grinning. “Oh, it’ll definitely stir the pot. But at least this time, it’s on our terms.”

We flopped onto the couch next to Charlie, refreshing the post to watch the views climb almost instantly. Matt wrapped an arm around me, pulling me closer as the first wave of comments rolled in.

As we sat on the couch, watching the likes and comments roll in from Matt’s TikTok, I turned to him with a mischievous grin. “Okay, now it’s my turn. We’re making one for my account.”

Matt raised an eyebrow. “Alright. What’s the plan?”

“You’ll see,” I teased, grabbing his hand to pull him up. “We need a parking lot for this one.”

Without hesitation, he stood, grabbed his keys, and intertwined his fingers with mine.  I laughed as he practically dragged me to the door, his excitement contagious. 

“BYE LOVERS! Chris and Nick will be here when you get back!” Charlie yelled from the couch.

“Bye baby!” I yelled back to her

By the time we reached the car, I was giggling uncontrollably. “You don’t even know what we’re doing yet.”

“Don’t care,” he said opening the passenger door for me. “You said parking lot, so we’re going to a parking lot.”

The drive was filled with us singing to old songs wed listen to in college. His curiosity clearly bubbling under the surface. “So,” he finally asked, “are you going to clue me in, or do I just wing it when we get there?”

I smirked, looking out the window. “You’ll know when the time comes.”

He shook his head, chuckling as he turned into a small, dimly lit parking lot. “This good enough for your tiktok?”

“Perfect,” I said, hopping out of the car. I grabbed my phone and propped it up against the tire, adjusting the angle until it captured the open space behind us.

Matt leaned against the car, watching me with amused curiosity. “Alright, sweetheart, what’s the move?”

I pulled up the audio and played it for him, explaining as it went. “Okay, so, I start spinning in the frame when the music begins, and then you run in, pick me up, and keep running off-screen.”

He nodded, walking away.

I laughed, hitting record and jogging into position. The audio started, and I spun slowly, my arms outstretched as the music swelled. ‘You better lock your phone-’ Right on cue, Matt dashed into the frame, scooping me up effortlessly. I squealed in surprise as he kept running, the camera capturing the two of us disappearing into the shadows.

When he finally stopped, both of us were laughing uncontrollably. “That was perfect,” I said, catching my breath as he set me down. 

“Obviously,” he teased, brushing a strand of hair from my face. “Now, let’s see it.”

We walked back to the car, reviewing the footage together under the soft glow of the streetlights. The video was exactly what I had imagined.

“You’re posting that, right?” Matt asked, his arm draped casually over my shoulder.

“Absolutely,” I said, uploading the video with the caption: “my future baby daddy.”

As we got back into the car, I glanced over at him, grinning. “You really don’t question anything, do you?”

He shrugged, kissing my forehead. “Not when it comes to you.”

When we got back to the house, the sound of voices and laughter greeted us as we stepped inside. Chris and Nick were now sprawled out on the couch with Charlie, the TV playing in the background.

As soon as I walked in, a wave of excitement hit me. Everything had been going so well lately, and I couldn’t help but feel like life was finally falling into place. “Guys!” I yelled, throwing my arms up in the air. “We should celebrate tonight!”

Nick perked up, looking intrigued. “What are we celebrating exactly?”

“Everything!” I exclaimed. “Life!”

Chris laughed, shaking his head. “Yes Y/N! I LOVE CELEBRATING LIFE!” Chris jumped up wrapping his arms around my shoulders behind me as we jumped like school girls.

Nick’s face lit up. “Well, if we’re talking about celebrating, I know Tara Yummy is throwing a party tonight. Should we go?”

Charlie’s eyes widened with excitement. “I’m in! We haven’t been to one of her parties. We've only ever dmed her a few times about a collab”

Matt looked over at me, smirking. “You good with that?”

“Absolutely,” I said without hesitation, “Let’s go, I can tell Chris is gonna match my freak tonight” I said while patting his arm that was hanging on me.

Charlie laughed at me and Chris jumping around, we exchanged a quick glance before I turned, pointing toward the door. “Alright, you three. Go home and get ready.”

Nick groaned but stood up, dragging Matt with him. “Fine, but you better not take forever.”

“No promises!” Charlie called out as the boys headed out, leaving us to start planning our outfits for the night.

The moment the boys left, Charlie and I raced upstairs to start getting ready. The excitement of the night buzzed between us, making us laugh and talk over each other as we dug through our closets for the perfect outfits.

“I’m thinking something bold,” I said, pulling out a burgundy strapless corset top that hugged my figure and showed off just the right amount of cleavage. I paired it with a tight black cloth skirt that barely covered my ass and my black heeled boots. “What do you think?”

Charlie whistled, grinning. “Matt’s going to fuck you infront of everyone.”

I laughed, tossing a pillow at her. “We’re celebrating life, remember? What about you?”

She held up a black crop top with thin straps that fit her perfectly and paired it with a jean mini skirt that showed off her long legs. She added a pair of cute ankle boots. “How’s this?”

“Absolutely stunning,” I said with a grin. 

We got to work on our makeup and hair, After straightening my hair and leaving it sleek and shiny, I turned to Charlie, who was curling her hair into loose waves.

“You’re going to have every guy at that party eating out of your hand,” I teased, spraying her hair with setting spray.

“Please, as long as Chris is that's all I care ‘bout,” she shot back, but her smile was wide.

By the time we finished, we took a couple pictures in the mirror, grinning like excited to finally meet Tara, and get drunk.

“Let’s do this,” I said, grabbing my phone to text the boys to let them know we were almost ready.

“They better not keep us waiting,” Charlie added with a laugh as we headed downstairs, our heels clicking against the floor, excitement building for the night ahead.

Charlie and I were halfway through our second nip of vodka, as we danced around the kitchen. The boys walked in just as I tipped the tiny bottle back, the liquid burning slightly as it slid down my throat.

“Starting without us?” Nick teased. Chris followed close behind, already laughing at the scene.

Matt came in last, his eyes locking on me immediately. I caught the smirk tugging at his lips as he walked over. Just as I was placing the empty nip on the counter, his hands slid around my waist, and one moved down to grab my butt firmly.

I shrieked, startled, and spun my head around to glare at him, but he leaned down to whisper in my ear, his voice low and teasing. “Let’s go.”

The sound of his voice sent a shiver down my spine, and I turned back around, trying to hide my flushed face as I reached for my bag. Charlie wiggled her eyebrows at me but said nothing as she grabbed her purse and slid her phone into it.

“All set?” Chris asked.

“Matt’s driving,” Nick said with a grin. 

“Lucky me,” I said, giving Matt a playful smirk. “That means you can take care of me when I'm hammered.”

He rolled his eyes but smiled, gesturing toward the door. “Per usual.”

Charlie and I followed the boys outside, the cool night air hitting our skin as we clicked down the driveway in our heels. Matt opened the passenger door for me, and I slid in, adjusting my skirt as he walked around to the driver’s side. Charlie climbed into the back with Chris and Nick, and we were off, heading for Tara’s party.

The car was filled with excitement and music as we drove, everyone hyped for the night ahead. I leaned back in my seat, sneaking a glance at Matt as he drove, his hand gripping the wheel tightly, the other holding my thigh. 

The house was packed with music blasting through the speakers and groups of people talking and laughing in every corner. As we walked in, the energy was electric.

“Y/N! Charlie!” A high-pitched squeal came from across the room, and Tara was practically sprinting toward us. She threw her arms around me first, then Charlie, her excitement contagious. “I was so excited when Nick told me you guys were coming! Finally, I get to meet the infamous Y/N and Charlie. You’re even prettier in person!”

Charlie and I exchanged amused smiles. “You’re so sweet, Tara,” I said, hugging her back.

“Come on,” Tara said, linking her arms with ours. “Let me show you where the drinks are. We’re getting started right now.”

She led us through the crowd, leaving Matt, Nick and Chris to socialize with other people, to a makeshift bar setup on the kitchen counter, complete with every type of alcohol imaginable. Tara wasted no time, grabbing shot glasses and pouring tequila like a pro.

“Let’s go, ladies,” she said, holding up her shot glass.

“Cheers!” we all yelled, clinking glasses before throwing back the first shot.

And then the second.

And then the third.

Before long, Charlie and I were fully committed to a shot-for-shot competition with Tara, each round getting harder to keep up with her.

“Come on, lightweight!” Tara teased as Charlie hesitated before the seventh shot, but I wasn’t about to back down. I threw our shot back, wincing as the burn hit my throat.

By the time an hour had passed, the three of us were absolutely obliterated. Tara was laughing so hard she was leaning on the counter for support, and Charlie and I were clinging to each other to stay upright.

“I love you guys,” Tara slurred, throwing her arms around us. “You’re my favorite people in the world now.”

“You’re my favorite!” Charlie yelled back, equally as drunk, before dissolving into giggles.

I nodded enthusiastically, my head spinning but too far gone to care. “Best friends forever,” I declared, raising my empty shot glass in the air like it was some kind of victory trophy.

The party was in full swing, the music pounding in my chest as I stumbled my way through the crowd, drink still clutched in my hand. My vision blurred slightly, but I was riding a wave of tipsy confidence—until I spotted him.

Matt.

He was leaning casually against the wall, talking to some girl. She was laughing at something he said, leaning in just a little too close. A flash of annoyance surged through me, cutting through the haze of alcohol. My mind betrayed me, flashing back to our college days—Matt fucking girl after girl.

Fueled by jealousy and bad judgment, I stormed across the room, stumbling slightly but determined. “What the hell is this?” I blurted, my voice louder than I intended.

Matt straightened up, his brows furrowing as he looked at me. “Y/N—”

“No, seriously,” I slurred, gesturing wildly at the girl. “What’s happening here?”

The girl blinked in confusion, clearly caught off guard. “Uh, I’m gonna go...” she muttered, excusing herself quickly as the tension between Matt and me became palpable.

Matt’s jaw tightened, and before I could say another word, he grabbed my wrist. “We’re not doing this here,” he said firmly, his voice low but commanding. He pulled me through the crowd, ignoring my protests, until we were in a quiet, empty room.

He let go of my wrist, closing the door behind us. Turning to face me, his eyes were sharp, his tone clearly pissed. “What the fuck was that, Y/N?”

“I could ask you the same thing!” I shot back, swaying slightly on my feet. “Talking to some random girl like I don’t even exist? What’s the deal, Matt? Back to your old habits?”

His hands went to his temples, rubbing them in frustration. “Are you serious right now? She’s just a friend! And even if she wasn’t, that’s not what this is. You’re drunk and making something out of nothing.”

“I saw the way she was looking at you,” I accused, my voice trembling. “And you weren’t exactly pushing her away.”

He took a step closer, his voice lowering as he leaned in. “Y/N, you’re drunk. You’re not thinking straight. Chill the fuck out.”

As Matt’s words echoed in the small, dimly lit room, I could feel the tension building, the weight of everything from the party to my frustrations pressing down on me. But then, unexpectedly, the alcohol made everything feel lighter.

I giggled, the sound bubbling up uncontrollably from my chest. "I love you," I blurted out, the words slipping out before I could stop them.

Matt looked at me, eyebrows raised, clearly taken aback by my sudden shift in mood. "What?" he asked, his voice a mix of confusion and amusement.

I shrugged, the smile on my face turning mischievous despite the still-present anger in my head. "I mean, I do," I said, a silly grin stretching across my face. 

He stood there, speechless for a moment, his eyes searching mine. His lips quirked upward into a small, amused smile as he let out a deep breath. "You’re drunk, Y/N."

"Yeah, I know," I said, still grinning, "but I still love you."

He shook his head, chuckling lightly, before stepping closer. "You're lucky you're cute when you're drunk."

"You still love me, though," I teased,

"Yeah, I do," he admitted, his expression softening. "But let's get you back to the party before you start loving everyone."

I laughed again, “How about you just let me love you..” I pushed Matt back as he stumbled onto the bed.

“y/n don't… you're drunk.” Matt said as I walked towards him, placing myself on his lap.

“Just shut the fuck up Matt and kiss me” 

And when he finally gave me what I wanted, his lips crashing against mine as he moved against me, the world disappeared. There was only Matt—his touch, his voice, his everything. 

Matt’s hands gripped my hips, his hold firm but controlled, as if he was grounding himself as much as he was grounding me. 

His body was flush against mine, every inch of him radiating heat. “Wait till tomorrow,” he murmured, his lips brushing against mine, teasing but not giving me the kiss I desperately wanted. “I refuse to fuck you this drunk, y/n. And you are making it oh so hard”

“Shut up,” I whispered, tugging at his hair to start kissing his neck as I grinded my hips into his.

His hands roamed over my body, exploring every curve, every inch of skin he could reach. His touch was both gentle and possessive, a reminder that in this moment, I was his and his alone.

“Get off me before I go against all my morals,” he said, his voice rough and full of promise. “I say full of love and respect.” he moaned out as I perfected my last hickey on him.

“There, I just needed you to shut up so I could show people. You belong to someone” I said as I leaned back looking at my work.

“Good to know.” Matt said as he leaned down, starting his own art peace on my chest. 

Once he was finished he grabbed my hips standing me up. “Lets go baby” He grabbed my hand pulling me towards the door. I stopped in the mirror fixing my hair and seeing Matt's two hickeys, one on each breast. Matt walked over to the mirror inspecting the couple I left trailing down his neck. “God you are so sexy” He said, kissing my cheek as he guided me out to the party. 

As Matt and I stepped back into the party, the loud music and chatter hit me like a wave. The room felt like it was spinning a little, but I held onto Matt's arm for balance. We were just about to make our way back to the group when Chris spotted us from across the room.

He ran over with a mischievous glint in his eyes. "There you are," he said, stopping in front of us. His eyes flicked between Matt and me before landing on me. "Y/N, I need you bad."

My eyebrows shot up, and Matt's posture immediately tensed beside me, sensing something was off. Chris, however, seemed entirely unfazed by the undercurrent of tension.

"I'm sorry," Chris said with a playful shrug, glancing over at Matt, "No, not like that anymore. I need you as my beer pong partner." He laughed realizing how bad his first sentence sounded.

Matt's grip on my arm tightened, but before I could even ask what he meant, Chris waved a hand dismissively and added with a wink, I couldn't help but laugh, feeling the tension ease a bit. "You scared me for a second there," I joked, shaking my head at Chris.

Matt let out a small laugh too, his shoulders loosening as he realized it was just Chris being his usual, over-the-top self. "Yeah, she’s off-limits for now," Matt said, his tone affectionate but teasing. "But you can have her for beer pong."

Chris grinned and pulled me toward the game, but not before giving Matt a quick look. "Don't worry, I only need her to win this game. And you," he added, glancing at me, "are the best person for the job."

"Let’s do it then," I said, grinning and ready to dive into the chaos of the game, trying to push any lingering doubts aside.

Chris, despite being a bit too drunk to focus, had an energy that was hard to ignore. He bounced on his feet, grinning like a madman as he lined up to take his first shot. “Alright, we got this, Y/N,” he said with way too much confidence, raising his beer.

Across from us, Jake and Tara stood ready, both giving us playful smirks. Tara was already holding her own drink, clearly just as drunk as me, while Jake had a look of determination on his face, obviously eager to win. “You’re going down,” Jake said with a laugh, tossing the ping pong ball up and readying himself to launch it across the table.

Nick and Matt stood off to the side, cheering us on. Nick was practically jumping up and down in excitement, while Matt pushed himself off the wall, going behind me whispering in my ear. "Come on, Baby" 

The game started off slower than I expected, with Chris getting distracted by anything and everything—whether it was a drink on the table or someone else at the party walking by. But even in his drunken state, he was surprisingly good. Tara missed her first few shots, but Jake was still hitting his, making me sweat a little. I had to focus, but thankfully, Chris and I managed to keep our heads in the game.

We took turns, and each time, I felt the tension rise. Tara and Jake had their competitive energy going, but it was clear Chris and I had the upper hand—probably because Tara and Jake were having more fun than they were serious about winning. Chris finally got it together after a few more missed throws, throwing his ball with incredible force and sinking it into one of the last cups.

“Fuck yeah!” Chris shouted, stumbling and almost tipping over. I had to grab him to stop him from falling off balance.

In the final round, it came down to one last shot. Jake was up, and I knew he was going to give it everything he had. He took a deep breath, lined up his shot, and threw the ping pong ball—only for it to bounce off the rim and miss entirely. The room fell silent for a second before Chris and I erupted into cheers.

“We did it!” I yelled, laughing as Chris grabbed me in a half-hug and spun me around. “I can’t believe we won!”

Nick and Matt, who had been watching from the sidelines, immediately started clapping and cheering. “FINALLY!” Nick shouted, high-fiving Chris.

Tara and Jake laughed good-naturedly, though I could tell they were a little disappointed. “Alright, alright, you guys earned it,” Jake said, tossing a playful glare in our direction.

An hour had passed, and the energy of the party was starting to get to me. I could feel the buzz starting to wear off, and I was ready to head home. I looked over at Matt, who was leaning against the wall, talking to Nick. He caught my eye, and I gave him a small nod, silently telling him I was ready to go.

I walked over to him, tapping him on the shoulder. "Matt, I think it's time to head home," I said, trying to keep the smile on my face, but feeling the exhaustion from the party creeping in. The lights were too bright, the music a little too loud, and I just wanted to go back to the comfort of my place.

Matt nodded, his hand immediately finding mine. "Alright, let's get out of here," he said, pulling me toward the door. We waved to Tara and a few others as we made our way out of the party and into the cool night air.

Nick, who went to get Chris and Charlie, was already making his way to the car, pulling Chris and Charlie along with him. We all piled into the car, with Matt driving, me in the passenger seat, and the rest of the crew in the back. The ride was mostly quiet, everyone content in their own thoughts after a long night.

As we drove through the city streets, I could feel the tension finally easing. The party was fun, but there was something about heading home with Matt, knowing the night was winding down. I leaned my head against the window, watching the streetlights blur past as we made our way home.

Matt glanced over at me, a small smile on his face. "You good?" he asked, his voice soft.

"Yeah," I replied, smiling back at him. "Just ready to be alone with you."

We drove the rest of the way in comfortable silence, the sounds of the car and the occasional laugh from the backseat filling the air. The night had been eventful, but now all I wanted was the peace of being home with Matt.

tag-

@tbfaptbfae @ch0lliess @2muchofaslvt @rockstarchr1s @simply-a-simper @mattscore @watercolorskyy @urfungi @slut4christopherr @mattsturnii @christmastreecake @izzylovesmatt @larnieboox88 @christophersstar @realuvrrr @namelesssav @matts-girlfriend

[studentinpursuitofclouds]

Bachelors reacting to a farmer who is a famous author with plenty of books under their belt?

Sure thing :D Thanks for your ask, dear anon!

_________________________________________

Elliott:

Elliott had recognised Farmer as soon as they first met near Willi's shop. And how could he not - a famous writer in the horror genre, whose lines skilfully present anxiety and intrigue to the reader, had come here to Stardew Valley! On top of that, it was Farmer who was the one who inspired the ginger writer not to give up on his writing path despite the comments of others. Naturally, the two will find quick common ground, exchange ideas and advice about their work (if Farmer continues to write novels in addition to their new job), or just relax over a mug of strong ale. Elliott is delighted to meet them and hopes that the Valley will become a home and a place of inspiration for Farmer, just as it has become a home for Elliott.

Sebastian:

At first, Sebastian couldn't believe his own ears when he heard Farmer's first and last name during their meeting, but then, upon asking Farmer again a little later, they confirm the local emo's speculation. The new farmer who has taken over their grandpa's old house is the author of all five volumes of Cave Saga, his favourite books! Sebby loves science fiction and sci-fi, and Farmer's works in this genre are bestsellers in the Republic and a gem in Sebastian's personal collection of his books and comics. He will be a little awkward at first to approach them due to his shyness and reluctance to show himself like an obsessive fan or something. But Farmer turned out to be a very chill and nice person, with whom Sebastian became friends pretty quickly.

Shane:

After Shane had replied to Farmer upon introduction in a not too polite manner, he wondered if somewhere he had heard their surname/name before. Not the chatter of townsfolk who were intrigued by the new resident of the Valley, much earlier. The realisation came when he started reading Jas her favourite bedtime story (which Shane also secretly loved) in the evening. "The Brave Little Sapling. Author-" !!! No way... Could it be a coincidence? But overheard conversations of others confirm that Farmer is the same author. Sigh... Though it's a children's book, it raised some pretty adult issues, and helped Shane to not give up and to appreciate what we have. He doesn't know how to address Farmer now, after a not very great first meeting, but he thinks it's worth apologising at least.

Alex:

Perhaps Alex would have reacted to the news that Farmer was a famous writer more surprised or enthusiastic. The thing is - and he's ashamed to admit it - he hasn't read very many books in his entire life. Athlete, however, wants to catch up, and has been blowing the dust off some of the books on his shelf since last week. Most of them were as boring as integrals, to be honest, but 'Jack Be Nimble, Jack Be Thick' has become his favourite. Easy to understand, lots of pictures, some puns, and very cool tips for him - no wonder it's the most popular according to reviews. "This is my first volume, I already wrote a second one." Wait... Farmer is the author of this book? Hey, there's so much great advice in there! That's awesome! Now Alex is super excited.

Sam:

Not to say that Sammy is a big fan of books, he's more of a comic book fan, but there are a couple of exceptions. One great fantasy book, based on which people created some great video games and produced a lot of comics - naturally the young guitarist, who loved the franchise, wanted to know the source material, and the book was even more interesting. When he mentioned it to Farmer, the Valley's newest resident, about it, they told him they were the author of the book. Which made Sammy's jaw drop with shock. He couldn't contain his delight and would ask questions about the fictional world, but wouldn't disturb their peace if they didn't want to. Whether they continue write or not, Sam will thank them for a great book and a cool fictional world Farmer created.

Harvey:

Hmm, funny coincidence..... The surname of the new resident of the Valley and Harvey's patient is exactly the same as the surname of the author of one of the most popular love novels, "The Apple Orchard." Yes, the doctor is a fan of this book series, he's not just into medical reference books and encyclopaedias about aeroplanes, you know. True, now he's heard that the author wanted to retire... "Well, not exactly, I wanted to take up farming and make writing a hobby again, not a full-time job." Not a coincidence, then... Harvey is pleasantly surprised that his new friend is his favourite writer, also a decent man and a calm patient during check-ups. The relationship won't change much, the doctor doesn't want to inundate Farmer with a bunch of questions about book universe. Maybe later, if they want to talk about their novels over a cup of coffee.

[imawreck]

Darkness

Pairing: Winter Soldier x Reader

Summary: You're left with flushed cheeks and a shared secret with the darkest part of Bucky Barnes... and you want more.

Author's Note: You guys fucking DEVOURED the last one so this is the sequel to the previous part, His. It makes more sense if you read the other first! If you like this content, drop a comment or an ask and I'll be sure to write more like it in the future! It gets a little feral and I won't apologize for it. Also, there is possibly a part three on the table if this ship sails like the last.

Warnings: Choking kink, metal arm kink, Cursing, mentions self loathing/guilt (it’s Bucky, kinda normal), Possessive!Winter Soldier, hair pulling, fingering, Dominant!Winter Soldier, hickeys, bruising, PnV, praise kink if you squint, licking, oral (fem receiving), knife play (?) and probably some more but those are the big ones.

Word Count: 6,899

It had been two days.

Two days since you’d tried and failed to lure the Winter Soldier into a cell. Two days since you’d felt his hands on your body.

Two days since he’d given you a taste of what you could have.

He’d left his mark on more than just your skin. Though bruises and love bites littered your neck, it was your mind that he’d left the most impact on.

There was hardly a moment you weren’t thinking about him, about Winter. About what would’ve happened if the agents hadn’t stormed the stairwell. If he’d been able to keep going.

And you wondered if you’d ever get another chance to see.

Bucky had recovered, his mind once more his own. You didn’t know if he remembered, or if he would say anything to you even if he did. It’d been radio silence from everyone in the tower other than Steve, who’d been checking in on you to make sure you were really alright. You were sure Thor would be here hounding you if he was on the planet too.

Apparently, the earpiece had fallen out a little after he’d cornered you. So Steve and whoever else that was watching over you didn’t hear much of the conversation you’d exchanged with the assassin. They’d had to rely on the cameras, which hadn’t been able to see you past the wall of a man caging you between his arms.

Which means none of them had seen what had happened, that this was something only you carried the knowledge of. A small part of you was relieved.

That still left one question unanswered: Did Bucky remember?

A sharp knock jolted you from your thoughts, dragging you back to the present. 

Blowing out a breath, you got up and headed towards the door. “Steve, I told you I’m fine. I—“

But when you opened the door, it wasn’t Steve on the other side.

It was strange how different those blue eyes were when it was Bucky at the wheel instead of Winter. Lively, pooling with emotion where you’d seen cold calculation and unbridled lust just days before.

It was guilt swimming in those eyes now, red rimmed and bloodshot. His dark hair was disheveled like he’d been running his fingers through it all afternoon, and he wore a loose pair of sweats and a black long sleeve despite the summer heat.

He looked scared and out of place standing in the hall.

“I—uh, hey.” A poor attempted smile wobbled onto his face, and he brought his flesh hand up to run through his hair—a nervous habit he had when he was uncomfortable or anxious — just like you’d guessed. “Can we talk?”

You opened your mouth to answer him but no words left it. You could only stare up at him and nod, feet shuffling back to pull the door open further.

Bucky’s frame squeezed through the door and he padded further into your space with wandering eyes and furrowed brows.

It was impossible not to notice the changes you’d made in the last few months since your breakup. Bucky used to frequently stay with you, favoring your bright and comforting space over his own empty room. You liked your knick-knacks, and you were a sucker for creature comforts so you always had the softest blankets and the fluffiest pillows. And you’d always made sure Bucky had things he liked in your space.

You used to keep his favorite coffee stocked in the mini breakfast bar you’d made on a bar cart, and his favorite pillow and throw blanket was always neatly folded in the armchair by the window. You’d even set out copies of his favorite books in case he wanted to relax in your room instead of the commons area or his own space. 

But now it was gone. The little pieces of him you’d made room for were removed along with the photos that used to line your walls and bookcase. Save for the one, of course.

And it stung to see the reality of what he’d done, the choice he’d made now reflected in the absence of everything he’d built with you. 

He pried his eyes away from the empty shelves of your bookcase and glanced back at you, shuffling his feet awkwardly. “I… Steve said that I went after you when I got back.”

His statement hung in the air for a few seconds, silence crowding you both and making him tense his shoulders the longer it remained. 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out, “I can’t imagine how awful that was for you. I-I never wanted you to see me like that. That- He’s not me, okay? God, I’m so sorry.” His fingers scraped over his scalp as he clenched his teeth, turning away and pacing a few steps.

Bucky couldn’t look at you, not after what he’d done. What he’d forced you to witness. He’d never wanted you to see him like that. It was one of his worst nightmares when you had been dating, and now it was a brutal reality.

“Bucky,” you started, but he cut you off.

“Did I hurt you? Did… did I do something to you?”

It struck you then that he didn’t remember what he’d done. What Winter had done. And your room was too dark at the moment to see what remained painted on your skin from the encounter.

You were both relieved, and utterly frustrated. Now what do you do? ‘Oh yeah, Bucky! I let you finger me with your metal arm in a stairwell for shits and giggles while you were all killer mode. No biggie.’ And then what, ask for him to do it again?

Yeah, definitely not.

“You didn’t hurt me, Bucky.” Your legs moved on their own accord, drawn forward by his obvious distress and the instinctual need to sooth his worries. “I’m fine, really.”

Bucky finally turned to face you, his eyes filled with sorrow. He chewed his cheek, his eyes searching your face for any hint of a lie. “I can't remember what happened, there's just glimpses.” His voice lowered, softened by the weight of his words and the fear woven in his tone. “But I can feel him. Stronger than before. Something’s different this time.”

You stilled at that, eyes glued to the side of his face. 

“I can feel what he felt. I-it's like he’s just behind a curtain.” His right arm came up, his index finger tapping his temple, “Waiting.”

The haunted look in his eyes twisted a knife of guilt in your gut. You didn’t want him to feel guilty for what had happened, but it was unfortunately normal for Bucky. You understood it, respected his boundaries and his need to do anything he could to keep you safe. But you wanted exactly what he was keeping from you.

You wanted it so badly.

Could you tell him? Could you confide in him this secret you’d kept from lovers in the past? Something so twisted that you’d only shared it with someone equally as sadistic as you were flawed? Bucky was so much more important to you than any of them had been. You… you felt deeply for him. And it was obvious that the unknown was weighing on him heavily.

One more look at his shattered expression gave you your answer.

With a frustrated huff, you reached for his hand. You tugged it from where it’d curled itself into his hair again, and led him to the edge of your bed. “Bucky,” you started, keeping your voice as gentle as you could. “I need to tell you something. It’s going to be hard to understand, and you’ll probably think very differently of me, but I think it might lessen the burden I can see you’re putting on yourself.”

Bucky’s eyes fixed on you. Those brows furrowed over confused and tortured eyes, but it was obvious that he would listen.

You bit your lip, beginning to sweat as the nerves rattled through you. “First of all, I… I haven’t told anyone this. It’s not something I’m proud of, but rather something that just is. And it didn’t start with you. I mean—,” you let out a sound of frustration, “Fuck, I mean I didn’t date you because of it. It just sort of grew more complicated as we got closer.”

Those brows furrowed more and twisted his face into more concern than anything.

You kept going. “When you came after me, I was scared. Of course I would be.” You winced at the hurt that flashed in his eyes, but continued on, “But I also… I liked it.” 

A shaky, bitter laugh left you. “I liked the chase. I liked it when he cornered me against the wall, when he—,” you paused, a feeling akin to resignation and begrudging acceptance settling into your bones. Your eyes found his metal hand, gazing at the light bouncing off the silver metal. “When he choked me with that hand.”

You buried your face in your palms, tears of shame threatening to leak from your eyes. “You didn’t hurt me. He didn’t hurt me, Bucky. He just brought to light these things I thought I’d kept from you.” 

With another breath, one that felt like needles sinking into your lungs, you went on. “He made me feel good, Buck, in all the ways I’d always hoped you would someday. I feel like the worst person in the world for thinking that, for feeling the way I do, but I can’t help it.”

You couldn’t meet his eyes. Shame was writhing in your stomach and threatening to consume you. Tears pricked your eyes and wet your palms that still remained pressed to your face. 

Bucky didn’t say a word, and you just let the silence thicken the air. You’d already said everything there was to say.

Your sin was bared for his judgment. “I get that you don’t want to be with me anymore—“

“That’s a lie.”

Your head snapped up at that, teary eyes wide as you took in his surprised expression. An expression you watched morph into confusion, and then something else. Realization, maybe.

Bucky went on, “I never wanted to stop being with you, Y/N.”

A piece of you settled deep in your soul at that confession, and you leaned in to listen. Every word from his lips an answer to the question haunting your every thought for the past three months.

“On that mission, we came across intel that there might be a mole in the tower and that they were going to try and trigger the Winter Soldier. I… I was scared, Y/N.” Grief washed over his face as he folded his hands together, knuckles turning white. “I was so scared that you’d see me like that and be afraid of me. I was terrified of hurting you, of— of killing you, that I had to make it look like you didn’t matter to me. I had to make it real, so that whoever saw you and I would think you didn’t matter and leave you alone. I was trying to make you less of a target.”

Your heart thundered in your chest at his confession, at the thought that these past two months of utter disaster had been the result of Bucky trying to protect you from himself. 

“You could’ve talked to me,” you muttered, sniffing and wiping your face in a poor attempt to rid it of the mascara you knew had run. “You could’ve told me what was going on.”

Bucky’s head shook, “There wasn’t time. You have to understand.”

You nodded, even if you didn’t truly understand. The guilt and remorse on his face told you he was on the edge of crumbling, and if agreeing with him kept him from breaking, you’d give it to him.

Another long silence blanketed the two of you. You watched his face, his eyes, as his mind mulled over the information you had exchanged with him.

Those blue eyes found your’s after a while, something steely in them that wasn’t there before. “Friday?”

The AI of Stark Tower answered politely, “Yes, Mr. Barnes?”

“Initiate Soldier Protocol in Y/N’s room and cut camera feed. Don’t alert anyone.”

Soldier Protocol. 

Your eyes widened, and a chill ran over your skin. Soldier Protocol was something Bucky had come up with when you’d first started dating. It was a safety protocol installed into yours and his own room to ensure that if the Winter Soldier was triggered, it would keep whoever was in the room safe, or keep whoever was trying to get inside from entering. It was a double edged sword, really, because if you were trapped in the room with him, then you couldn’t get out. Bucky had made sure to teach you some basic self defense moves on the very slim chance that would ever happen and had shown you ways that you could use to evade and make an escape to the bathroom if needed. Even though you’d thought of all the holes in the protocol, you couldn’t bear to voice them if it helped ease Bucky’s nerves knowing that if something were to happen, that you’d have an extra wall to keep him from getting to you.

“Confirm Command; Soldier Protocol, Miss Y/N?”

You hesitated, voice wavering just the slightest as you whispered, “Are you sure?”

Bucky nodded slowly, giving you the confidence you needed to answer the AI.

“Confirm Soldier Protocol, Friday. No alerts or cameras.”

The calming voice answered once more. “Command Confirmed. Soldier Protocol initiated.”

Your eyes followed the windows as metal safety doors shut out the dim light of the day. One after another they locked out the outside world and left the two of you inside the confines of your bedroom. 

You and Bucky, and your confessions.

“He wants out, Y/N.” It was barely a whisper, but the low timbre of Bucky’s voice reverberated in your bones. “He wants you.”

There was concern laced in his words, but there was also more. So much more that you knew you’d have to talk about later. You’d have time to unpack all of this, what it means for the two of you, later. Right now?

Right now you needed Winter as desperately as you needed air.

“What… How can I help you, Bucky?” Your hands shook at the thought of Winter's return. Of what it would bring.

Bucky pulled his lip between his teeth, his hands running through his hair before twisting themselves in his lap. His eyes were wide, as if he didn’t quite believe he would say the words spilling from his own mouth. “I want you to trigger the Winter Soldier. Feeling him there— it’s driving me mad. An-and now that we know he won’t hurt you and that you… you want him—.”

You reached for his hand, concerned that if he kept squeezing them as tight as he was that he’d break bone. “Bucky, it’s okay.” You tilted your head, smiling softly at him, “Take a breath. There’s a few things I want to set straight before we jump into this.”

His voice lowered, “Okay.”

Bucky was obviously torn up over this whole thing. And as excited as you were to repeat what went on in that stairwell, this was someone you cared about for more than just sex. 

This was Bucky. 

This was the man who’d apologized with the biggest bouquet of flowers you’d ever laid eyes on the day after your first encounter with Winter. The same man who’d apologized for months after with cute little notes and trinkets he knew you loved and still kept in that shoebox under your bed. The exact same man you’d opened your heart to one Saturday night over a tub of butterscotch ice cream and the third playthrough of your favorite movie. He didn’t complain that you’d watched it back to back either.

This was the man you’d fallen in love with in just a few short months.

The realization settled into your heart, and that warm tingly feeling swept over you as you tightened your hold on his flesh hand and reached for his metal one too.

Bucky hesitated, jerking it away for a moment before allowing you to tug it into your lap. “Buck,” you started, thumbs swiping over his hands in slow calming paths. “It isn’t just the Winter Soldier I like about you. You know that, right? Because if you don’t, I’ve failed as your lover. And as your friend.” 

Those blue eyes darted between your own, searching there like a man searching for salvation. You gave his hands another squeeze, swallowing the lump in your throat. “I… I love you, Bucky. You. I think I’ve known for a while now. I was just too scared to admit it out loud. I haven’t had the best run with guys in the past, and you’re so good that I was afraid I’d ruin you somehow.”

Your eyes fell to your joined hands, and this time he was the one to squeeze back.

“I know it’s kind of shitty timing, but I need you to understand that I’m not with you for any other reason other than the simple fact that I adore you, Bucky Barnes. Everything about you.” You shook your head, frowning. “I meant it when I told you I wasn’t with you just because of Winter. I’ve always had this attraction to… well, you know. Dating you just made it more difficult to hide when you were obviously so uncomfortable with it. I didn’t want to make things hard for you. I just wanted you to be happy.”

“Doll,” he mumbled, the name drawing your eyes to him. You’d always loved it when he called you that. “Say it again.”

You frowned, confused for a moment, before a small smile drew itself onto your face. “I love you, Bucky.”

A choked sound fell from his lips before his arms circled around your waist and pulled you into his lap, his face inches from yours. “Again. Say it again,” he begged, his  breath fanned over your face as his fingers fisted the back of your shirt. “Please, doll, say it again.”

You folded your legs around his hips, threading your fingers into his hair and peppering kisses on his face. “I love you.”

“Me?” It was the most broken sound you’d ever heard.

You grabbed his face, tilting it up to look at you and tried your best to pour every ounce of love into your expression. “You, James. I love you. I’ll say it a billion times if I have to until I get it through that ridiculously handsome head of yours.”

He laughed at that, broken as it sounded. “I love you too, Y/N. God, I fucking love you.”

Soft lips crashed into yours, dancing a familiar dance as his flesh hand slipped under your shirt and glided up your spine. Your breath caught as the cool sensation of his metal fingers followed after it, his arm wrapping around your back. You smiled against his lips, leaning into him more.

You nearly pouted when he pulled away.

“Y/N,” those eyes, less uncertain and more determined now, swept over your face. “I want you to trigger him.”

You frowned, “But Bucky, you—.”

“I need this.” His voice was surprisingly steady, “I need to do this otherwise it’ll drive me mad. Feeling him there— Jesus, it’s like someone’s scraping a knife against my skull.”

Metal fingers drew circles against your back, “Are you okay with… with seeing him again? I’m not confident enough to do what he did yet. I need more time to come to terms with the damage this hand has done.” He pulled the appendage away, looking it over before his eyes found you again. “But I… I can tell he won’t hurt you. I can feel it,” he pulled his flesh hand away and pressed it over his heart. “Right here.”

He laughed, almost incredulously. “Even the Winter Soldier has fallen in love with you.”

All you could hear was the pounding of your heart in your ears. He wanted you to trigger the Winter Soldier. He said that he loved you, and that Winter did too. 

It would really fucking suck if you were dreaming.

“I don’t know your words,” you mumbled, suddenly shy in the light of his proclamation.

This time, the smile he gave was one that reminded you of those old photos from the 40s you’d seen in the history museum. The one where the left side crooks up a bit more than the right. He didn’t release you, but instead wrapped his left arm around your hips and leaned back to rifle through the top drawer of your nightstand for the notepad you always left in there.

He pulled it back to himself and released you only long enough to scribble down a few words and tear off the page. “You’ll have to memorize them. I don’t want them to leave this room.”

You nodded, because of course he wouldn’t and you’d rather swallow hot coals than ever betray him. Your eyes scanned the page a dozen times when he handed it to you, lips moving in silence as you played with the foreign vowels. 

All the while those strong hands of his trailed along your back and hips, sometimes exploring your upper thigh. 

It made your mind foggy, and you had to keep yourself from squinting to focus.

After you’d finally memorized them, you remove yourself from Bucky’s lap and padded over to your bookcase. You snagged the candle lighter from a shelf, and then removed the bag from your trash bin. It took a few tries, but once the lighter ignited, you let the flames eat away at the page before dropping it into the bin and watching until it was nothing but ash at the bottom.

You could hear a breath of relief leave the soldier from where he remained seated at the edge of your bed. He looked somewhat relaxed, but a tension still ran along his shoulders.

“Are you sure you want to do this?” You returned to the bed, smiling a bit as his arms wrapped around the back of your thighs.

Bucky hummed, low and steady. “M’sure, Doll.” He leaned his head against your stomach, and your hands found his hair on instinct.

He hummed again at the touch, and his arms tightened around your legs before he lifted you. Bucky turned quickly, one knee coming up onto the bed before he laid you down with a thump on the mattress.

You smiled, laughing a little as you bounced from the sudden drop. Bucky grinned back, his eyes shining. “Missed you, you know. I’m sorry for not telling you.” He leaned over you, hands planting on either side of your head. Nothing but honesty shined in those blue eyes as he looked down at you. “I’m sorry for wasting three months, and I promise I won’t do that again.”

Butterflies stirred in your belly, and you could feel the flush of heat on your neck as you leaned up and planted a kiss on his lips, “Better not.” 

Before you could think much of it, Bucky reached over and flicked the lamp on. You were too busy feeling fuzzy inside that you’d forgotten the very prominent marks littering the delicate flesh of your neck.

Marks that would always make Bucky drown in guilt.

“Fuck, doll.” 

He stared at your neck, horror painting his face in the lamplight. His body lifted until he was sitting on his knees over you, hands resting on his lap like he didn’t know what to do with them as he took in the damage he’d left.

This is exactly what you didn’t want to happen. “Hey, no—,” you gripped the front of his shirt, the sudden motion catching him off guard as you pulled yourself up to his face, forcing him to look you in the eyes. You would’ve liked to yank him back over you, but you lacked the ability to battle his serum-enhanced strength. Sitting up did just fine.

“You don’t get to feel guilty for this. Not now, and not anytime after this if you… if we’re serious about doing this.” You stared him down, unwilling to allow him even a glance away. “I told you, I liked it. I told you that it didn’t hurt. You need to trust me as much as I trust you in this. That’s the only way this,” you motioned between you both, “is going to work.” You lowered your voice, nearly mumbling the last part. “I can’t take another step back, Buck. Not after three months, and definitely not after that.”

Bucky’s eyes danced between yours for a few moments. They darted down to your marred skin and back again several times before he blew out a breath and nodded reluctantly. 

Your shoulders eased too. 

“Now come back here and kiss me, soldier. Your girl’s in need.” You smiled, quirking a playful brow in an attempt to draw him back in.

It worked. That smile pulled at his lips, small at first but quickly blooming as you began peppering his jaw with kisses.

The kisses started gentle and exploring, and the touches soft and sweet. You hadn’t felt his skin against yours for three long months, save for two days ago, and you’d missed everything that made him Bucky.

You’d missed how the stubble of his chin brushed your cheeks when you kissed, and how he held your face like you were the most precious thing he’d ever touched. Delicate and worthy of worship.

You’d missed him so much it hurt.

“Bucky,” you panted, tugging his shirt as you kissed him. “I love you.”

A deep, rumbling groan left him, and his tongue swept across your bottom lip. “I love you, Y/N. So damn much.”

His flesh hand cupped the back of your neck and guided your head to the side so he could place the tenderest kisses over each hickey Winter had left. “He’s a brute,” Bucky mumbled against the column of your throat, stealing your breath. “If he hurts you–.”

“He won’t, James.” You pressed your forehead to his shoulder, biting your lip as his flesh hand trailed all the way from your neck to the base of your spine. “I know it.”

You only got a hum in response before his lips crashed into yours again. Bucky’s hands were everywhere, confident and warm on one side and tentative and gentle with the other, much colder one. The contrast sent delicious tingles along your skin wherever he touched and only served to heighten your anticipation.

This was the first time Bucky himself had allowed so much of a brush of his metal arm against you, let alone tender touch.

His palms mapped every dip and crest of your body, his touch growing more needy with each sweep of his skin against yours. His tongue slid over your lips again, a silent request that you were all too happy to accept.

You couldn’t help the satisfied sound that escaped you as the taste of him swept over you, familiar and strong. Things only hastened from there. It was like a switch had flipped and he couldn’t bear not to have his hands on you.

He kissed you hard, chasing you with lips and tongue like a man starved. The feather light touches of his hands turned more firm as he held your hips and pulled you closer. Bucky’s chest heaved, his breaths fanning over you between kisses in hot puffs.

You could tell he was still holding back. That he needed this as much as the burning need in your core told you that you did. “Bucky,” the sound was practically a whine, “Please.”

His fingers curled against your hips, “Fuck. Okay, okay.” Wet kisses were trailed down your neck as his hands slipped beneath your shirt to sweep calloused thumbs over your aching nipples. “Say them, doll. Say the words.”

You deserved a fucking gold metal for succeeding to pull your mind out of the fog he’d clouded your brain with. It always happened with him. Your mind just short circuited every time he cast you a heated glance, and this? Well, it was a miracle you could remember your own name.

You opened your mouth, the words you’d memorized tumbling out one after another. 

“Longing.” Bucky grunted, but didn’t stop in his ministrations as you spoke the next. 

“Rusted.” Another grunt, and a tremor through his shoulders, but his lips never left your skin. In fact, it just seemed to spur him further as his hands tugged your shirt down to reveal the delicate skin of your breasts.

“Furn-,” you gasped as his lips locked onto a nipple, tongue teasing expertly over the nub. “Furnace.”

The hum he released sent skittering tingles across your body in the most delicious way.

“Finish, baby.” 

Fucking hell. What was the next word?

“Daybreak,” his hands lowered to your ass and held it firmly against him as he licked and sucked the sensitive skin of your breasts, never missing a beat. “Seventeen.”

Those devilish hands dragged lower, fingers trailing along the seam of your panties through your leggings and along the underside of your thighs where they met the curve of your ass. Inches from where you needed him most.

You could barely suck in a breath, utterly overwhelmed by the sensation of his mouth on your skin and those hands mapping your body in agonizingly slow strokes that sent waves of need straight to your core. “Benign,” his body arched over yours, easing you into the mattress, “Nine.”

Another shudder this time, and you could see the ripple of muscle beneath that tight black shirt. God did you want it off of him.

“Homecoming.” 

A groan, and a shake of his head. It was the first indicator that he was uncomfortable.

 You hesitated at the pained sound, but you didn’t have time to ask a thing though. Not when his head snapped up and those wide, wild blue eyes found yours. “Don’t stop,” he panted, cheeks flushed.

So you didn’t.

“One.”

Wet lips trailed kisses down the exposed skin of your stomach, the tips of his dark hair trailing down as he kissed past your naval and kept going. Lower, lower, lower…

“Freight Car.” The words sounded strangled in your throat through your labored breathing.

The kisses stopped abruptly, and Bucky’s body went stock still.

You weren’t even sure he was breathing until the even rush of an exhale swept against your stomach.

And then he chuckled.

 It wasn’t the kind you’d normally hear from Bucky. It wasn’t filled with joy, or playfulness. This one sounded depraved and downright corrupt.

The hairs on your neck raised, and that sharp bite of panic jolted through you as you stared down at his large frame hovering over you. You couldn’t see his face from this angle, and the lack of any hint of what was going through his head only heightened the tension building in your body.

“Told you, didn’t I?” His voice was a rumble in the silence, and you gasped when his tongue swept a path up the center of your belly. “You fucking need me.”

Cold fingers hooked the waistband of your leggings and shucked them off in one quick motion, the cool air assaulting your exposed skin and leaving goosebumps in its wake. You simply stared up at him and tried to remember to breathe beneath the weight of his eyes on your body.

Those cold, lust-lidded eyes.

“Winter,” you breathed, a thrum of excitement mingling with the nerves tingling under your skin. The ache you felt was at the forefront of your mind. Bucky’s gentle touches had served to stir the need that was already brewing.

Now, Winter has come to finish the job.

He smiled, slow and sultry. “Needy little thing, aren't you, Dollface?”

You bit your lip as heat crept up your neck.

Winter’s body rose to his knees, his hands curling around your thighs in a bruising grip and lifting them over his shoulders. You yelped, but it didn’t stop him. Those thick corded forearms locked your legs in place over his shoulders, his face centimeters from your core and the stubble of his jaw tickling your thighs.

You were almost certain you'd soaked through the thin pair of panties you wore.

His hands dragged up your thighs, fingers slipping beneath the fabric at your hips as he held your eyes. 

And then he ripped them at the seams. The puny fabric fell to the mattress in tatters, and all you could do was gawk at him.

“Don’t wear those when you’re with me.” Winter ordered against your thigh, his tongue swiping a path up the inner stripe of skin. 

The action sent another wave of want through you, the anticipation of what he was going to do serving to build your nerves higher and higher.

He drew you closer by your hips, humming against your skin. The sweep of hot air over you was a welcome sensation and you arched into it. Your heart pounded, and the angle in which your body was held, your head still resting against the mattress along with your shoulders, made it hard to think. 

Winter stopped just short of brushing his lips over your sensitive clit. You could’ve cried right then and there. Blinking up at him, you caught the wicked grin plastered on his face.

The soldier above you looked downright god-like bathed in the dim light of the room. His eyes gleamed, and that silver arm danced with every move he made. Every devious stroke of cool fingers against your body.

You knew this exact image would be carved into your mind for the rest of your life.

“Beg for it,” he ordered, his grip turning nearly bruising. “Tell me how badly you want it.” His lips brushed your core, just a whisper of scruff on your sensitive skin. 

You squirmed in response, chasing the feeling. Normally, you would rather die than beg a man for anything. But Winter? He had a special way of breaking you down. “Please, Winter, please. I-I want you. I want you to–.”

He didn’t even let you finish before his tongue delved into your core. 

You felt every sweep, every brush of that expert muscle laving over you. Desperate, needy sounds were echoing through your room, and a part of you knew they were yours. That they were spilling from your parted lips in broken sentences begging him for more. You were too focused on where his tongue toyed with you to care about anything else, though. Every pass of his tongue on your clit, or a sweep against your clenching walls made it harder and harder to ground yourself.

You were crawling closer and closer to the edge.

Your fingers were curled into the bedspread, and your hips ground into his face and bucked against the solid grip of his arms over your thighs. Winter groaned into your heat, the rumbling vibrations pushing you closer to euphoria.

Dazed, you tried to focus on his face, tried to make out his features in your love-drunk state. 

Winter's eyes were closed, and his face never came up once for air. Not even when you could feel his chest shuttering, and those muffled grunts became more frequent.

And God did they feel good.

Your chest heaved, your legs trying and failing to move an inch against his iron grip. As those vibrating groans shoved you over the edge with a cry.

Your brain couldn’t focus, not with all the blood rushing through your head and the thundering sound of your own heart in your ears, or the blissful sensation of release crashing over you in waves. 

“So dirty, Dollface. Letting me ruin you like this.” Winter eased his grip on your shaky legs, his hands dragging up your thighs to grip your hips. “Letting me brand you, taste you…” He licked his lips, tasting you on his stubbled face. His body leaned forward, your legs parting around his hips as he planted a burning kiss to your lips, “Fucking perfect.”

You panted, blinking to focus on his words as you came back to yourself.

Winter was lifting himself off of you, his eyes raking over your disheveled form as he slipped off the bed and stood to his full height. Those blue eyes held nothing but burning desire, muscles flexing as he yanked off his shirt and rewarded you with the view of his sweat slicked torso. 

The sight was erotic. His hair damp with sweat, and his face glossy with the remnants of your release, chest heaving as he sucked in much needed air.

Winter reached forward, his cool fingers wrapping around your ankle and tugging you towards the edge of the bed with a wicked grin. “Gonna make you come again, Dollface. Need to hear those pretty sounds you make.” His flesh hand grabbed your calf, pulling you closer. “Wanna hear my name on your lips again, and again, and again.”

His metal fingers gripped your thigh hard enough to leave bruises, but that didn’t bother you. You loved the reminders that littered your skin from the last time Winter branded you with his affections, and you relished each one that would follow. 

With a quick, strong motion, he flipped you on your stomach. Your chest bounced against the bedsheets, the friction against your pebbled nipples sent a jolt of pleasure down to your toes making you moan into the comforter as he brought your hips up and adjusted your knees against the bed.

“Fuck, you’re gorgeous.” He panted, pressing himself against your ass.

You could feel him through the sweats still hanging from his hips. The length of him pressed firmly against you, brushing your sensitive core and making you groan again. You wanted to feel him, needed to know what it was like to be with Winter the same way you craved intimacy with his counterpart.

“Please,” You begged. 

With a grunt, the sweats were yanked down and he thrust harshly, seating himself completely in one swift motion.

His moan rumbles through you, setting your nerves alight. “Oh god…”

And then he starts moving. 

One stark difference between James Buchanan Barnes and The Winter Soldier, was that one was gentle and kind, and everything you’d want in the man you’d take home to meet your parents. And the other? The other was the kind of man that would carve his name into your skin with a smile and defile you in unspeakable ways, rough and raw.

Winter snapped his hips at a breakneck pace, pulling out only to plunge back in with a force that made you see stars. Your mouth hung open in a silent scream, clinging to the sheets as he drove you into the mattress. His cock hit all the right places, those quick, constant motions driving you closer and closer to another release. His grunts and puffs of breath only added momentum.

Tears pricked your eyes, your heart hammering and your skin on fire as pleasure coursed through you, building higher and higher.

A cold palm slipped along your belly, snaking its way between your breasts and firmly wrapping around your neck, squeezing those delicate pressure points that made your head spin. He lifted you from the mattress, his pace halting almost completely as your back met his heaving chest. 

Winter’s raw voice met your ears as you whimpered at the loss of friction, teetering on the edge of sanity as your core wept for attention. “Gonna cum if I keep that up, Dollface.” His voice is choppy, puffs of air hitting the side of your neck as he talks. “Feel so fuckin’ good.”

His dick pushes in again, dragging slowly along your walls as he groans in your ear, your own voice joining him in a broken harmony. “‘M gonna need this every time. Need to feel your tight cunt, hear your pretty cries…” His tongue darted out to slide over your cheek, swiping up a tear that had fallen from your damp lashes, “Taste you every. Single. Time.”

Those hips snapped back into their brutal pace, slamming against your ass as he clutched your frail neck in his metal hand, the other coming up to grip your hair and tug your head back as he sucked more love bites along your neck.

You moan, tears of pleasure falling from your lashes as you near the edge. Winter’s grunts and shaky breath vaguely registering that he’s nearly there himself.

He sinks his teeth into the juncture of your neck, the combination of pain and utter pleasure shoving you over the precipice as you open your mouth in a scream. That metal hand snakes up to stifle it as his hips jerk a few more agonizing thrusts before shuddering with his strangled moan.

You’re left limp and breathless, utterly spent and draped over his arm with your head lolling against his strong and heaving shoulder.

Winter slips from you, repositioning you on the bed like an offering on an unholy altar. With his hair plastered against his forehead, those dark strands utterly soaked with sweat, he smiles down at you.

“Again.”

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[katethetank]

Rating: 18+, minors gtfo Chapter Summary: Eddie meets the family! CW: None? Tell me if I missed anything Tags: Alternate Universe - modern setting, Rock Star Eddie, Counselor Steve, Eddie is gay, Steve is bi, slow burn, eventual smut Word Count:3,308

Chapter 9<<Masterlist>>Chapter 11

Mama Steve: Hey dickheads, does The Dungeon close at 5 on Sunday?

Dustybuns: It always has asshole

Mama Steve: Watch your mouth kid!

Mama Steve: Stick around after close

Mike Fucking Wheeler: You’re not the boss of us

Mad Max: Listen to your mother Michael

🧙Will the Wise🧙: What’s going on Steve?

🏀Lucas🏀: You’ve been MIA man, you alright?

Dustybuns: So you blow us off for weeks and now you’re making demands? Some mom you are 

😇El😇: We’ve missed you Steve!

Mike Fucking Wheeler: We have?

Mama Steve: Thought you assholes might wanna meet my boyfriend, but forget it

Dustybuns: YOIR WHAT

🏀Lucas🏀: I need you to be so serious right now

😇El😇: Steve I’m so happy for you!

Mad Max: Holy shit, you actually locked that down?

Dustybuns: STEVE!! 

🧙Will the Wise🧙: whaaaaaaaaaaattttt

Dustybuns: WHAT US HAPPENITN

Mad Max: I think you broke Dustin

🏀Lucas🏀: Omg are you bringing him to the shop?!

Dustybuns: STEVENNN ABSWRS NOW

🧙Will the Wise🧙: Yeah Dustin is malfunctioning

😇El😇: Do we really get to meet him?

Mad Max: This is hilarious omfg

Dustybuns: STOP IFNORING US!

Mama Steve: Are you assholes gonna behave?

Mad Max: No

😇El😇: Yes!

🧙Will the Wise🧙: The odds are not in your favor 

🏀Lucas🏀: You better not be fucking with us

Dustybuns: [voice message] Steven Angela Harrington I swear to fucking Christ if you’re fucking with us I’m gonna be so pissed! Tell us NOW what the fuck is going on!

Mama Steve: Sunday after the shop closes I’m bringing Eddie to meet you guys 

Mama Steve: I’m gonna regret this aren’t I?

Dustybuns: [voice message] Did I ever tell you you’re my favorite brother?

Mama Steve: You’re an only child

Dustybuns: How dare you

🏀Lucas🏀: We’ll be there!

😇El😇: I can’t wait!

🧙Will the Wise🧙: This is gonna be great

Mad Max: This is gonna be a disaster

Mike Fucking Wheeler: I’ll believe it when I see it 

“Oh my god this is total chaos. I love them already.” Eddie is reading the texts over his shoulder as they blow up his phone. These kids will be the death of him.

“I’m totally coming, I have got to witness this.”

Steve grabs a fry off of Eddie’s plate and throws it at Robin. He told her immediately that he and Eddie had made it official (ok not immediately, there may have been another handjob before he texted her) and she insisted on meeting them at Wayne’s on Steve’s lunch break so she could congratulate/grill them in person.

“Don’t get grouchy with me Dingus, you’re gonna need all the support you can get. Both of you!” She pointedly looks at Eddie.

He points to himself, “Me? Why me?”

Robin straightens up in her seat explaining, “These kids can be great, but they can also be total assholes. And it might look like they just give Steve shit all the time, but they’re fiercely protective of him. He’s seen them all through different rough patches of their lives and he’s been there for them in ways that nobody else has. They might be fans of yours, but that doesn’t mean they’re going to worship you. You bagged their mom, Eddie! You’re going to need someone in your corner to vouch for you.”

Steve turns and takes in Eddie’s profile. He looks nervous. “Robin, stop scaring my boyfriend!”

That actually gets a smile out of him and a kiss on the cheek. “God, I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of hearing you say that word sweetheart.” 

“Good, cuz I don’t think I’ll ever get sick of saying it,” Steve replies.

“Ugh gross, you two are disgustingly cute.”

“Thank you,” Steve says and flips her off.

Eddie turns his attention back to Robin. “So Rob, you’d  have my back with these hellions? Have I proven myself worthy of Steve’s hand?” Under the table he laces their fingers together. Steve gives him a squeeze.

“Oh my god you are such a dork. You might actually fit right in. But yes, you have. I can see how happy you make Steve, and you’re obviously obsessed with him. You've shown that you’re committed to this, you’ve been respectful of his boundaries, Wayne doesn’t seem to think you’re a dick. Just keep making him happy and we won’t have a problem.”

“Nope, just the same old pain in my ass he’s always been.” Jesus, Steve didn’t even notice Wayne approaching the table. He’s gonna need bells for both of the Munson men. “Good kid though, you don’t got nothin’ worry about darlin’. He’s been all moon eyed over his boy here since day one, won’t shut up about him.”

“Wayne, what the hell!”

“Don’t deny it son, you’re a shit liar. Steve,” he says looking down at him, “he ever do you wrong, you come to me, understood?”

Steve has to hold back his glee at Wayne’s protectiveness. “Yes sir, you got it.”

“None of that ‘sir’ shit, you’re practically family now. And ya ain’t paying either! You and Birdie here both.”

Robin looks ecstatic, but Steve feels a pit in his gut. “Wayne, I can’t do tha-“

“Shush! I ain’t gonna fight you on this! Just watch some Sunday games with me when you can and we’ll call it even. Ed here ain’t got no interest and just complains the whole time.”

Steve laughs at that, it sounds absolutely accurate. “You got it Wayne.” Wayne pats his shoulder and heads back to the kitchen.

“Christ, I think he likes you more than he likes me,” Eddie grumbles.

“What can I say? I’m like the son he never had!” Steve beams.

Eddie gasps, dramatically offended. “Rude! That’s rude Steven! Just for that, I’m going to steal all of your children’s favoritism.”

Like they share a brain, Steve and Robin tell him, “Good luck!”

Sunday rolls around faster than Steve anticipated. He won’t say he’s nervous exactly, more anxious of how the kids are going to act around Eddie. He just hopes they aren’t total buttheads. He pulls up to Wayne’s house and Eddie is sitting on the porch smoking a cigarette. He doesn’t smoke often, and Steve has a feeling Eddie is more nervous about this than he thought.

He gets out of the car and walks up to the porch, offering Eddie a reassuring smile. “Hey baby. You ok?”

Eddie nods his head and puts out the cigarette in an old coffee can. “Yeah I think so. Sorry, just a little anxious about this. Didn’t wanna smell like an ashtray, but I needed something to level me out a bit.”

Steve shakes his head. “No, it’s ok, I don’t mind. You ready to go?” Eddie nods again, looking anything but ready. “Kiss first?” Steve asks.

That gets a smile out of him. “You don’t mind smokey kisses, sweetheart?”

“No. Not from you. C’mere.”

Eddie steps off the porch and puts his hands on Steve’s hips. It always makes him feel small. He cups Eddie’s face and smiles into the kiss. He can already feel him relaxing.

“Mmm, I think I needed that more than the cigarette. Ok, now I’m ready.”

They climb into the car and Steve pairs Eddie’s phone, offering him DJ privileges this time. Driving guitars pump through the speakers as they make their way out of the neighborhood. Eddie turns the volume down after a couple minutes and turns to Steve. “I don’t know how to ask this without sounding like a dick, so I’m just gonna ask. How does a counselor at a community center afford a BMW? God, there’s no polite way to ask that, is there? I’m sorry, never mind, forget I said anything!”

“It’s ok Eds! You’re not a dick. I definitely don’t make a fortune working there, but it’s whatever. You know how I said I was a trust fund kid? Yeah. I had a trust fund. My grandparents set it up when I was little, and even though my parents basically disowned me, they couldn’t touch it. I got access to it when I was 25 and got myself a car. The rest was better spent.”

Ah fuck. He realizes he just opened a can of worms. He hasn’t told Eddie about this yet because to him it doesn’t really matter. But people are weird about money.

“Yeah, you treat yourself to a trip around Europe or something?” He laughs. Steve pauses for a moment and Eddie makes a questioning face.

“No. I uh…I gave it to the kids so they could open The Dungeon.”

Eddie just blinks at him for a minute.

“Stevie. Are you serious?”

“I know! I know it was probably stupid, but they had this dream and didn’t know how they were gonna get it started, and I didn't really have much use for all that money, plus the guilt I had even taking it meant I couldn’t even really enjoy it, so I figured that was the best thing I could do with it.”

“Pull over.”

Steve glances over at Eddie, bewildered. “What?!”

“I said pull over.”

Steve pulls the car to the side of the road and the second he has it in park, Eddie is on him. He’s so surprised that he doesn’t even kiss him back for a second. Steve pulls back to ask, “What is happening right now?”

“Steven Rebecca Harrington-“

“Not you too!”

“-You are the most selfless,” he gets a kiss to his cheek, “caring,” his forehead, “generous,” his nose, “man I have ever met!” Eddie plants a firm and passion kiss to his lips.

Eddie breaks the kiss and holds Steve’s face in his hands. “You gave all that up so you could help the people you love. You’re incredible, sweetheart, do you know that? You need to know that. Those kids better fucking know that! I am completely, unbelievably in awe of you. How the fuck did I get lucky enough to call you mine?”

Steve never thought he’d be crying on the side of the road in the arms of a rock star, but here he is. Eddie embracing him while tears slip down his cheeks. “I’m the lucky one,” he whispers. It’s true. He’s never felt so appreciated or adored or seen. 

They take a few minutes for Steve to calm down and then they’re back on their way to The Dungeon. They park and get out, and Steve takes Eddie’s hand in his, giving it a squeeze. “You ready for this?”

“Nope! C’mon, let’s get in there!”

Steve guides him through the front door and he’s struck with the memory of their first meeting. The last time they were in here together they were strangers. Now Eddie’s his boyfriend. Who’s about to meet…oh fuck, the whole family! Not only are the kids and Robin here, with eager looks on their faces, but Hop and Joyce are here too.

“Uh. Hey everybody. This is Eddie!”

The silence lasts about 1.8 seconds.

“Jesus it’s about fucking time!”

“Finally!”

“He’s taller than I thought.”

“This is crazy.”

“Oh he’s handsome!”

“Looks like trouble.”

“Hi Eddie!”

“Are you our new dad?”

They all rush towards them, Dustin leading the charge, sticking his hand out to Eddie and introducing himself, “Dustin Henderson, Steve’s honorary brother!” It’s the most aggressive handshake Steve’s ever seen. 

Max stands back with a smirk and her arms crossed. El gives Eddie a hug because she’s a fucking angel. Lucas shakes his hand like an actual human. Will gives him a shy finger wave. Mike is standing nearby, scowling at Steve. 

Steve looks at him and asks, “You believe me now, asshole?”

Mike steps closer and asks, way too loudly, “Have you been crying?” Steve wants to smack him. Then Mike turns to Eddie with fire in his eyes like he’s never seen. “What did you do?!”

Eddie looks like he’s ready to flee. “N-nothing! I swear! Stevie?!”

Steve’s flabbers are gasted, he’s never seen Mike get so definitive like this. At least not towards him. “Mike, I’m fine!” He doesn’t look like he believes it. “Seriously, I’m ok. Just had a moment before we got here. Eddie didn’t do anything, I swear.”

Mike shrinks back only slightly and mutters, “He better not have.” What the fuck got into this kid?! 

Joyce shoves them all aside and heads right for Steve, throwing her arms around his waist. He hugs her back and it’s just one of those things that makes his heart smile. “Steve sweetie, it’s been too long! I can’t believe I had to hear about your new beau from the kids!”

Steve gives her a squeeze before letting go. “Sorry mom. I’m glad you guys are here though. Missed you.”

“We missed you too, baby. Now! Introduce us properly to your boy here!”

Steve smiles at Eddie, who already has a fond look on his face as he’s taken in their interaction. “Eddie, this is my mom Joyce. Well, not actual mom, but you know.”

Eddie takes her hand, kissing the back of it like some Disney prince. “It’s a pleasure to meet you ma’am. Steve has spoken very highly of you!”

Steve doesn’t think he’s ever seen Joyce blush. He's definitely seen that look of annoyance on Hop’s face though. “Oh, honey, you don’t have to be so formal. Just Joyce is fine.” She looks back and Steve and mouths so handsome! Steve just wiggles his eyebrows back.

Hop steps in and grabs Eddie’s hand with one of those bear paws of his. “Jim. You can call me Chief Hopper.”

“Dad, Jesus,” Steve sighs.

“Hop, enough!” Joyce looks up at Eddie with her can you believe this? face. “He’s harmless, ignore him.”

Hop still hasn’t let go of Eddie’s hand. Eddie looks mildly terrified. ”It’s nice to finally meet you sir. I’m glad to know that Steve has had someone like you in his corner.”

Well fuck. He’s never seen Hop fold so quickly. He’s actually got a ghost of a smile on his face. Hop relents, letting go of Eddie’s hand and taking a step back. Why is this such a turn on?! Eddie turns to look at him and immediately clocks the desire that must be apparent on Steve’s face. He leans and whispers directly in his ear, “Save it for later baby.” Yeah that’s not helping.

They finally sit down at one of the big wood tables where Robin has been observing the entire interaction with glee. Dustin plants himself on Eddie’s other side, no doubt ready to grill him about something nerdy. The rest of the kids are scattered around the space, and Will comes up to ask, “Did you guys want a coffee? We still have everything up and running.”

Eddie smiles and tells him, “That would be great actually! Thanks…Will, right?” Will nods eagerly. “Just a coffee with cream and sugar would be awesome. Thanks man.” 

Will turns to Steve. “You want your drink, Steve?”

“Yeah, thanks bud.” Will nods and heads behind the counter to get started.

Eddie quirks an eyebrow. “Your drink?”

“Yeah,” Steve replies. “The Paladin? They made a drink for me. It’s a vanilla latte with like, caramel and shit. You should try it!”

Eddie just stares for a moment. “And it’s called The Paladin?”

What is Steve missing here? “Uh…yeah? Something from their nerd game or whatever. I never got into it.”

Eddie shakes his head and says under his breath, “Of course it is.” He turns completely to fully face Steve. “Sweetheart, do you know what a Paladin is?”

Steve furrows his brows. “It’s like a fighter guy or something, right?”

Eddie scoffs. “A fighter guy. It’s more than that honey. Paladins are holy knights that are sworn to fight evil and uphold justice. Divine spellcasters who train in combat, and wield the power to heal and protect. They’re self-sufficient, and they serve as defenders of the party. So no, it’s not just a fighter Steve. It’s a position of honor.”

Steve can’t swallow the lump in his throat. He looks away from Eddie to try and ground himself again, but that’s when he notices everyone has gone quiet. As he takes in the faces around him, his found family, his people…he sees it for the first time. How much they love him, how they see him. Their champion, their protector, their knight. 

He never thought he’d be crying in a coffee shop with his family and his boyfriend around him. But here he is. Robin grabs his hand from across the table. Eddie’s hand wraps around the back of his neck as he kisses his forehead. Mike gives him the softest look he's ever seen. Lucas rubs his back and Will sets down their drinks with a smile and a handful of extra napkins. Dustin, speaking in a much more subdued voice says, “We thought you knew, Steve.”

He dabs his eye with a napkin and laughs through a sob. “Clearly I didn’t! Fuck! I uh…I don’t know what to say.”

“Don’t have to say anything, baby.” Eddie whispers to him. “Just have to accept it.”

Careless of his family around him, Steve leans in and kisses his boyfriend, hoping it can communicate all of his appreciation. The room erupts in cheers and complaints.

“Aww, they’re so sweet!”

“Sweet my ass”

“Ew, get a room!”

“Ugh, that’s my mom!”

“Get it Steve!”

Eddie caresses his cheek and asks, “You ok Stevie?”

“Yeah,” Steve says. “Very ok.”

The rest of the night goes smoothly without any more emotional breakdowns thank god. Dustin talks Eddie’s ear off about D&D - Steve, did you know Eddie used to run a D&D club in high school? It was called Hellfire right?! We do campaigns here once a month Eddie, you should come! Will is our DM but if you want you could do it sometime! He loves the kid, but yikes.

If Eddie hadn’t already won everyone over with his charm, he’s definitely doing it with food. As the night goes on, he suggests having pizza delivered. Steve tries to offer to pay for it, but Eddie isn’t having it. “Sweetheart, no. Let me do this. You take care of them all the time, let me have a turn.”

Everyone gets stuffed with pizza, breadsticks, and somehow Eddie gets cupcakes delivered. He even promises Dustin that he’ll DM for them the next time they play. As they’re saying goodbyes Mike pulls Steve aside. “Look, I know I can be asshole sometimes-“

“Sometimes?!”

“Ok, a lot! But you’ve always been there for us. You've looked out for us for years, helped us get all this off the ground. We wouldn’t be here if it wasn’t for you. So. I just wanna make sure you’re…happy or whatever.”

Steve didn’t have Mike warming his heart on his bingo card. “Thanks for that, kid. And I am. Eddie’s amazing. I haven’t been this happy in a long time. Maybe ever!”

Mike nods and avoids eye contact. “Good! Good, I’m glad. I wanna like him. He seems cool. If he hurts you though, just wanna let you know, I’ve got your back.”

Steve chuckles, “Don’t think we’ll have to worry about that, but thanks man. I appreciate it.” They share a quick bro hug, complete with back slaps and Mike scurries away to be closer to El.

Robin steps up to his side and throws her arm around his shoulders. “Damn, Dingus. I didn’t think it would go this well! Your man’s little speech about how amazing you are sure won everyone over quickly. Didn’t see that happening.”

Steve wraps his arm around his best friend and smiles as he watches Eddie say goodbyes to everyone. Hugging Joyce and the girls (and Dustin), exchanging a much more amicable handshake with Hop, excitedly making plans to play the nerd game with the boys. 

“Yeah. Yeah, he did great.”

Chapter 9<<Masterlist>>Chapter 11

*********************************************

Taglist is open!

@annachronisme @mrsjellymunson @kozuuji

[yoursselo]

Birthday boy

a/n: happy international mason tony mount day to all who celebrate. i love mason sooooo much and thank god he was born. he not only graces the world with his pretty face but also is the reason why i have made so many friends on here. so this is a present from me to you! i hope you guys like it. love you lots 🩷

word count: around 1k

warnings: none

It was a beautiful day in Manchester. Despite the cold weather the sky was blue, and sunlight was beaming into your and Mason’s bedroom. It was 6 a.m., and you had just woken up. Normally, you would have stayed in bed longer to get some extra sleep and cuddle with Mason, however you had a tight schedule. Today was Mason’s birthday and you wanted the day to be extra special and unforgettable for him - one filled with love, warmth, and little surprises.

To get everything done on time, you carefully slipped out of bed, making sure not to wake up Mason with your movement. Before leaving the room, you gave him a kiss on the cheek and slipped into the hoodie he had worn the night before, that still smelled like him. On tiptoes, you made your way to the living room, where you took the balloons and the garlands out of the cupboard, ready to get to work. You blew twenty-six balloons up and made sure they were all floating against the ceiling. The table was decorated with photos of Mason through his years, each of them capturing a special moment in his life. Once the decorations were set, you started making breakfast. The smell of chocolate chip pancakes filled the air and you poured his favourite tea in a mug that said “#1 Boyfriend”, which you had gotten him as a Valentine’s Day gift during the early days of your relationship.

While you prepared the surprise, Mason slowly began to wake up. His hand instinctively reached for your side of the bed, seeking some morning cuddles, only to find it cold. He frowned and wondered where you were. Confused, he got up and began to dress for his recovery session.

When he was ready, he headed to the living room entirely unaware of the surprise waiting for him. The moment he entered the room Mason froze. His eyes widened as he took in the decorations—the balloons, the photos, the garland—and then his gaze landed on you, standing there with a huge smile, holding a plate of pancakes. “HAPPY BIRTHDAY, BABY!” you said, your voice full of excitement. Before he could say anything, you rushed over to him and planted kisses all over his face. You popped a party hat on his head and walked him to the decorated table. “Surprise”, you said gazing at him with affection. “What…? You did all of this?” he asked softly. “Of course, babe! Only the best for the birthday boy. Come on, sit down. You have got pancakes waiting for you.” “This is... incredible. Thank you so much,” he said, his voice thick with emotion. He reached out to pull you into a hug, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “You always know how to make me feel better.” 

As you lit a single candle on the stack of pancakes and began singing “Happy Birthday”, Mason chuckled. “Make a wish,” you said waiting for him to blow the candle out. His face lit up with a smile, one you hadn’t seen in weeks. Seeing his smile brought you so much joy that you got emotional. As he leaned forward to blow the candle out, he paused. His gaze flickered at you, as he noticed that tears were welling up in your eyes. “Hey, babe. Why are you crying?” he said gently. “I don’t know honestly. I’m just really glad you were born. I love you so much. Now blow out the candle before it burns the pancakes.” You laughed, brushing the tears away. “Oh, baby,” Mason murmured, his voice soft and full of affection. “I am the happiest when I’m with you.” 

After blowing out the candle, he started on his pancakes. You guys chatted for a bit and enjoyed your joyful morning. Once everything was finished you handed him your first present. A leather-strapped watch with an engraving of the HMS Warrior on the back, an homage to his beloved hometown of Portsmouth. Mason ran his fingers over the engraving. “I can’t believe you thought of this. You don’t know how much this means to me.” He looked up at you, his voice thick with gratitude. “I’ll treasure this forever. One day, I’ll give it to our kids.” He leaned forward, capturing your lips in a slow, tender kiss.

Shortly after your beautiful morning, Mase left for training, which meant that you had to start getting ready for the evening. You tidied everything up and transformed the living room into a cozy heaven with soft blankets and pillows. For dinner you decided to make something different – Mason’s favourite: sushi!

By the time Mason returned home, everything was set. You also had changed into a nice dress with a set of lingerie underneath as his second present. When Mase stepped inside your house his eyes lit up at the sight of the cozy setup. “Wow,” he said, shaking his head. “You really went all out, didn’t you?” “All for you,” you teased, leading him to the table.

The two of you enjoyed your meal and cuddled on the couch, watching a movie.

Later that night, after the two of you made love, you were laying l in bed wearing one of Mason’s shirts, you reached under the bed for the final present. “I have one more thing for you,” you said, handing it to him.

Mason unwrapped the gift, his brows furrowing as he pulled out what appeared to be a comic book. Instead of Spider-Man on the cover, it was a beautifully illustrated version of Mason in a superhero costume.

“What is this?” he asked, his voice filled with curiosity.

“Open it,” you urged, smiling.

As Mason flipped through the pages, his expression shifted from surprise to emotional. The comic told the story of his life, starting with his childhood in Portsmouth. It captured his early days playing football, his time at Vitesse and Derby, and his rise to fame at Chelsea. Each page was filled with vibrant details—his first goal, the Champions League win, and even some of his struggles.

When he reached the pages showing his time at Manchester United, Mason looked up at you with wide eyes. The final illustration depicted Mason standing tall in his superhero costume, with the words “To Be Continued” written in bold letters.

Mason stared at the page with teary eyes. “You did this... for me?”

You nodded, tears in your eyes. “You’re my hero, Mase. I wanted to show you how much you inspire me. You’ve faced so much, and you never give up. I wanted you to see your journey the way I see it—amazing and far from over. There’s so much more ahead for you, and I’m so glad I get to be by your side.”

Mason swallowed, his eyes brimming with tears. “I... I don’t even know what to say,” he murmured, pulling you into his arms. “Thank you. For everything. For seeing me this way. I don’t know what I did to deserve you, but I’m so grateful you’re mine.”

He kissed you deeply, his emotions pouring into the gesture. For the rest of the night, the two of you flipped through the comic together, marveling at the illustrations and reliving the memories that were captured. Finally, you both fell asleep in each other’s arms,  feeling overwhelmed with love and gratitude.

[wellofdean]

Yeah, we just disagree, straight up. I hadn't read foolondahill17's post, and now I have. I can't agree with that either. I think where we differ is in the sense that Cas has any greater degree in culpability about Mary's death than any of them do. They all failed to see how big a problem Jack's soullessness was despite having plenty of cause for concern, because they all loved Jack. No one could have predicted or prevented what happened to Mary, and even for Jack it was an instantly regretted, horrible accident. Neither Cas nor Dean nor Sam is to blame for it in any real way.

Cas not telling them about the snake is, for me, a pretty thin reason to put so much of the blame on him, and I think Dean knows it. Cas apologises for his part in it, but I don't agree that his apology proves culpability, all it proves is that he feels guilty, and Supernatural is the feeling guilty for things that aren't your responsibility olympics. Also, by the end of season 14 they've not just lost Mary, they've lost Jack, too, and that's a blow to all of them, but Dean, for obvious reasons, can't let that in.

I think blaming Cas for Jack and being angry about Jack are easier for Dean than experiencing his grief. At Mary's pyre his face is just cold fury, and that acting choice -- to just look fucking pissed off without the barest hint of sadness -- is telling. Cas leaves because Dean is callous towards him about Jack (understandably!!) and Mary, and even more callous towards Cas about Bel. He excludes Cas from their grief about the loss of Mary, and can't allow grief about what's happened to Jack in (again, understandable that that particular emotional knot is too difficult for Dean to untangle in so short a time!). He can't empathise with Cas about the loss of Jack, and everything about the situation undermines any notion that Jack and Cas were ever 'family', and that hurts Cas in a way he can't respond to except by putting distance between them.

I think Dean's feelings are understandable and I empathize with them. I think his anger makes sense in the context of his character and the devastating situation they are in where they have lost people they loved so much, while battling for their autonomy against god himself. I don't blame Dean AT ALL for not being able to just get over it, but I also don't agree that Cas deserves his anger. I think those two things can coexist. I also think anger is very often Dean's shield when emotions he can't let himself feel, especially in front of others, overwhelm him, and that this accounts for a large portion of the anger he is feeling towards Cas in these episodes.

By the time Cas has come back and they are back to fighting Chuck, he is not interacting with Dean emotionally, he's being pragmatic and interacting with Dean as a soldier. It's why he won't engage Dean in the bunker when he gets back from the Lee interlude (so much more to say there!), and why he uncharacteristically tells Dean not to be so stupid just before they leave for purgatory, and it accounts for his tone when he tells Dean he couldn't get over it. It's cold, yes, but it makes sense for Cas's character. He's there to do a job. I don't agree it's bad writing.

We see it differently, full stop. Thanks for the discussion, though! 🙏🏻

What you say: The Trap is a dissatisfying episode that presents some questionable narratives about the way relationships and forgiveness should function, and never meaningfully addresses any of Cas’s problems. Instead, it legitimizes Cas’s repeated tendency to keep secrets as a reasonable behavior that Dean needs to get over.

What people hear: Dean did nothing wrong and nothing he ever said about Cas was ever unfair. Cas is entirely and solely responsible for the breakdown of his and Dean’s relationship and Mary’s death is all his fault. Cas should die. Destiel is dead and Cas killed it. I hate him and he smells. Also I killed at least three of your dogs.

[gouraminnow]

Shanks anon here and it’s so okay I always love reading your analysis/ the reasoning behind shanks’ character in your yandere fics! It makes your fics feel so real like the characters feel so.. in character when they typically feel ooc in yandere fics.

your response made me wonder- what would shanks or benn (or both ;)- okay I need to stop) be like with an emperor darling? Or an admiral darling since admirals are placed on the same power scale as emperors? I feel like this would require them to actually really have to strategize to get their darling since it’s not as easy as just flexing their position as an emperors crew and just snatching their darling up.

Thank you!! Honestly being OOC is something I worry about. I know it's not the biggest deal ever, it's fanfic and we're already warping things, but I very much obsess over whether or not things feel "right" enough to me, haha. Like yeah yandere versions of characters differ but there are still core aspects of a character that make them who they are.

Rambling under the cut, much lighter on Benn tbh... hint of suggestiveness at the absolute very end like literally the last sentence

Anyway if Mc is another Emperor, then Shanks is gonna try and pester them into an alliance, first of all. He's friendly and laying on the charm, but also a bit more serious than he would be with a civillian or less powerful/experienced pirate. You're someone who could actually potentially cause problems for him if he pushes too hard. A lot more passive, but pays special attention to your movements. If he runs into any of your subordinate crews or other members, he's friendly with them too- willing to assist them in battle if they bite off more than they can chew. Sends them back to you with gifts- both for them, and something meant to be delivered directly to you.

And he "runs into" you too, of course! Very frequently, actually. Throws a party, does his best to draw you and your crew in. All the better to give gifts directly, isn't it? Some quality alcohol is his go-to, but he likes you. Does his best to dig for any interests you may have, learn/estimate your clothing sizes... whether or not Benn is into you as well, Shanks tries to get him to dig a little as well. He'll grunt, maybe even roll his eyes, but approaches you all the same. Probably has more luck anyway, since according to that SBS he scores more ladies than Shanks lmao.

If it's Benn who's interested and not Shanks, then... I think it'd be funny if things don't change all that much, actually. Teases Benn for aiming high, but ultimately decides to try and be a good wingman for his first mate. It's the least he can do, after all! And if he does succeed in getting with you, the resulting alliance will be good for everyone, he reasons. Benn has a headache.

Benn would also send gifts, I think, but they're smaller. More personal and often functional. A small bottle of your favorite spirits, a leather-bound journal, a small piece of subtle but pretty jewelry. A replacement for a scabbard strap that snapped during a skirmish, an extra button when one popped off of your coat... was he even there for that? How did he notice..?

And Benn is no stranger to drinking and partying, of course, but he makes more relaxing company than Shanks. Won't pester you or drag you into things the same way Shanks will, happy to find somewhere a little quieter and just enjoy a shared drink and a moment of quiet.

All in all, kidnapping is far less likely to be on the table. You're on equal footing, and neither man wants the massive clash between Yonkos or the deaths that would result from it that could come from this. They both ultimately want you to like them, after all, and captivity wouldn't break the Will of someone like you even if they did manage it.

An Admiral Mc, on the other hand... oof.

This has a bigger chance of blowing up but Shanks is high-maintenance and loves to court danger. Takes care of troublemakers for you, which pisses you off because you do not need him for that, goddamnit. He likes to antagonize you, knowing you can't just start something without the input of the other Admirals. You're on par with him, but ultimately still a tool for the WG... if you fail, they're more likely to write you off as a failure than a loyal crew would. Would try to get you to defect. Aokiji did it after all, so it's not impossible. But if you're determined to remain a Marine, well... if he can beat you, kidnapping IS on the table here as an alliance is impossible. Uses the danger your subordinates are in against you. The gap between you and them is just too big, are you really willing to risk all of them..? It's worse for an Admiral, tbh. If they can't get you to leave the Marines and join them, and they succeed in taking you for themselves, they're more willing to break you than a fellow Yonko. Can see it becoming something akin to a brat-taming scenario, tbh.

[chibinasuu]

Kid x Reader ― surprise; present

part of the cozy holidays event

🎁 ― anonymous tags: sfw (just a tiiinyy bit suggestive at the end), fluff, GN!reader, no use of y/n, established relationship, cw language (it's the kid pirates)

“Oi, Kid!” You shook the sleeping form of your Captain, “Wake the fuck up!”

He groaned in protest, refusing to open his eyes.

“Oh, come on!” You whined, shaking him more violently, “You promised you’d teach me how to ice skate today!”

“Alright, alright!” He finally conceded, throwing aside his blanket and reluctantly getting up, “Just shut up and let me get ready in peace.”

You grinned, reminding him to meet you on the deck in ten minutes, before rushing to the kitchen.

It was good that your Captain always skipped breakfast, because the kitchen and dining room of the Victoria Punk was currently in a state of chaos. 

Emma was mixing a huge bowl of red cake batter under Killer’s supervision, whilst the Commander himself was seasoning some ground meat for the filling of Kid’s favorite cabbage rolls. 

Dive was perched on Wire’s shoulders, hanging streamers from the ceiling all around the room. Quincy’s tongue stuck out as she concentrated on carefully painting elaborate letterings on a large white banner – it only said “HA” for now, but she had plenty of time to finish the rest of that sentence. 

The other members of the Kid Pirates were also busy with various tasks – wrapping presents, blowing up balloons, polishing the fancy silverware they got from their last loot, taking out the clean, non-blood-stained tablecloth. 

You nodded in satisfaction at the progress of the party preparation.

“You still here?” Heat scoffed, “Aren’t you supposed to keep Kid away from the ship?”

“Running a bit late – he literally wouldn’t budge when I woke him up.” You sighed, “But he’s up now. We’ll head off in a few minutes.”

“Don’t let him in here!” Papas yelled. 

“Well, duh!” You rolled your eyes, hand on the door handle, “I’m not stupid!”

You yanked the door open only to come face-to-face with the redhead himself.

“Kid!” You exclaimed, immediately shutting the door behind you before he could see anything. 

He stared at you with one eyebrow raised, “What’s with the commotion?”

“Oh, you know,” you shrugged, “The usual breakfast quarrel. Heat preferred hard-boiled eggs, Wire liked them soft-boiled, and now the rest of the crew are taking sides –yelling and throwing stuff at each other.” 

Kid only hummed in response, not at all suspicious of your lie since it was a likely occurrence on this ship. 

“Come on,” He offered his non-mechanical arm to you, “Let’s go then.”

You happily linked your arm with his, and off you both went ashore. Your heartbeat picked up in anticipation – it had been a while since you went on a date with Kid.

The Victoria Punk had been docked for a couple of days on this little winter island when Kid came upon the frozen lake in the middle of its woods. You had been on watch when he returned to the ship, immediately telling you all about his discovery. You had found it very endearing how he looked like a little child with that huge, excited grin as he rushed off to find his skates. 

It was never even cold enough for snow on his home island back in the South Blue, so it went without saying that Kid had never ice-skated until he entered the Grand Line and set foot on his first winter island. It wasn’t long until he found out that he had a natural aptitude for it, a fact he loved bragging about to the rest of the crew.

Yesterday, you watched with envy from the sidelines as Kid, Bubblegum, and UK raced a few laps around the lake. On the way back to the ship, you had begged Kid to teach you how to skate until he finally relented and said yes, which brought you to your date today. It also happened to be the perfect opportunity to get Kid off the ship for a few hours while the crew set up the surprise.

It was a short trek to the lake, and you shook in excitement when you caught sight of the smooth, glassy surface of the ice, shimmering with the blinding reflection of the morning sun. 

Kid dropped his bag on the snow-covered ground, crouching to rummage through it. He took out his own skates, a pair he made for you, and…

“I’m not wearing that fucking bowl on my head.” You looked disgustedly at the ugly metal thing that Kid was holding out to you.

“Yeah well, too bad, sweetheart.” He plopped the helmet on your head and tied the strap under your chin, “You’re wearing it, or I’m not teaching you how to skate.”

Kid then proceeded to help you put on your skates, making sure to double-knot the laces, before putting on his own. He then stood up easily, while your effort to get to your feet resulted in what probably would be a bruised bum.

The bastard had the audacity to laugh before pulling you up, guiding you to carefully step onto the icy lake. You wobbled at the slippery surface, knuckles turning white at how hard you were grasping Kid’s arms. 

“Relax, doll, I got you.” Kid’s unusually soft voice calmed your nerves, and you started to slowly loosen your iron grip. 

“There we go,” he grinned as he started skating backward, propelling you to go forward along with him. 

“Shit, Kid.” You panicked again, staring at the speed of which your blades were carving the ice, “Slow down!” 

“Hey, look at me!” He searched your eyes, “Keep your gaze straight.”

You met his amber eyes, and Kid smiled, “Good. Now, bend your knees a little for me.”

You did as he said, and when he started gliding again, you found it much easier to follow his movements.

The two of you skated across the lake – hands joined, eyes locked – until you finally felt like you got the hang of it. Kid seemed to sense your increased confidence too, because he smirked and asked, “Think you’re ready to try on your own? Or are you too much of a coward?” 

The thought of losing the tether of Kid’s hands daunted you, but like hell were you going to back down from his challenge.

You reluctantly let go of his hand, and Kid skated away from you – just a short distance away, but the gap between the two of you looked massive from where you stood, frozen to your spot. 

You hesitantly pushed the edge of your skate against the ice, just like Kid showed you, taking one tentative stroke, then another, and another.

He stealthily skated backward bit by bit, increasing the distance which you had to skate to reach him. 

“Kid, I’m doing it!” Your smile was so bright, Kid was afraid it would melt the ice and plunge you both into the freezing waters.

With one last broad stroke, you gained speed and flung yourself straight into Kid’s waiting arms. He caught you and lifted you a few inches from the ground, spinning you around in a dizzying twirl. You laughed in glee, holding on tight to him until the spin lost its momentum and he set you down onto the ice again. 

Kid rested his forehead against yours, “Not bad for a beginner.”

You both stood there in silence for a few moments, enjoying the warm rays streaming through the canopy of trees, and the birds singing softly overhead. 

You cleared your throat and called out his name, heat rising to your cheeks, “I, uh, got you something. For your birthday.”

You reached into the front pocket of your jeans and took out a simple metal bracelet with a single ruby embedded in the center. 

The craftsmanship was extremely shoddy – the edges uneven, the stone crooked. Kid immediately knew that you made the accessory with your own hands. 

You slightly pushed up the sleeve of your sweater to show the perfect bracelet Kid made you for your last birthday, crafted from the same material and inlaid all over with the blood-red gems. You rarely ever took it off, not even during showers.

You licked your lips nervously, the heat from your cheeks spreading to your entire face, “I wanted us to match.”

Kid took the bracelet from you and wordlessly slipped it onto his wrist. You waited with bated breath as he admired it glint under the sunlight. 

"I know it looks awful, you don't have to wear–"

“Thanks, love.” He interrupted you. He’d never admit it, and you pretended not to notice, but his voice sounded a bit choked up when he continued, “Best damn present I’ve ever got my whole life.”

His metal hand came to rest on your hip, while his other cupped your cheek. He leaned in, capturing your lips in a rare, tender kiss. 

You circled your arms around his neck, pulling him flush with you. The familiar press of your body made him groan, and his lips melded with yours more insistently, gaining a hunger that you were more used to feeling in Kid’s kisses.

You reached up to bury your hand in his crimson hair and pulled at the threads, tugging him closer. 

That was the moment your feet, still fairly unused to the skates, slipped under you. Your heart dropped and Kid’s eyes widened as you toppled backward, bringing him along with you. 

Your hand instinctively reached out in a desperate attempt to stop the fall and you felt something crack when it slammed onto the hard ice. Kid, thankfully, succeeded in planting both of his palms down, narrowly missing crushing you flat to the ground.

“Fuck, are you alright?!” Kid yelled as he helped you sit upright.

You winced at the sharp sting on your wrist, but nodded at him anyway, “I’m okay.”

You knocked on your helmet with your uninjured hand, laughing as the metallic bonk echoed throughout the area, “Good thing you had me put on this hideous thing, huh?”

Kid didn’t respond as he inspected your wrist with furrowed brows, “I think it’s sprained? Or broken? We need to get you back to the ship.”

The ship. Where the preparation for Kid’s surprise party was still in full swing. 

“Uh, you know what? I’m good. Can we just stay here for a little longer? I haven’t even finished a full lap around the lake yet–“

“Just let me take care of you for once, won’t you?”

You melted, unable to resist that look in his eyes, so earnest and caring despite his raised voice.

“Fine.” You finally answered with a sigh. 

It was fine. You just had to keep him out of the kitchen. Easy!

Not. 

The kitchen was exactly the very first place Kid marched to when you two arrived back at the ship.

“Whoa, why are we heading to the kitchen? The medical supplies are in the sick bay.”

“Killer keeps a first-aid kit in the kitchen, you know that.” He squinted his eyes, starting to get suspicious, “And it’s closer. The sick bay’s all the way across and down the deck.”

You stood in front of the door, blocking it. Your ears slightly picked up the rowdy voices inside that were definitely not expecting you and the Captain to return this early.

In a last-ditch attempt, you tried to put on a seductive look, batting your eyelashes at him.

“Wait, Kid.” You trailed your hand up his chest suggestively, “Why don’t we go back to your room and I’ll give you a proper birthday present, hmm?” 

“You’re being weird.” He scowled, “Step aside.”

When you didn’t make a move, Kid effortlessly picked you up by the waist and set you to the side, his hand reaching for the door handle.

“No!” You yelped as he slammed the door to the kitchen open.

Silence greeted you as the whole crew froze, pausing whatever they were doing and staring in shock at their Captain.

The cake was only half-decorated, with most of the frosting seemingly ending up on Emma’s face instead. The banner, still spread on the floor, now read “HAPPY BIRTHDAY K”, with a smudge on the “K” where Quincy’s brush slipped at Kid’s loud entrance. 

You cringed and glanced at Kid, whose eyes were wide as saucers, “Uh… Happy birthday, I guess?”

A cacophony of yelled-out happy birthdays started all at once, thirty voices chaotically overlapping with each other.

“Wow, you guys suck at surprises.”

A moment later, Kid doubled over in laughter and the crew let out the breaths they didn't know they'd been holding.

Kid ended up lending an extra hand to finish the rest of the preparations for his own party while Heat treated your sprained wrist.

Despite the rocky start, the festivities turned out to be a success, with everyone enjoying themselves immensely, especially the birthday boy himself. 

Kid absolutely refused a birthday song, though, so Hip and Reck busted out their electric guitars and played some of his favorite tunes instead.

The singing, dancing, and drinking went on all day and well into the night. And when some of the crew had started passing out drunk on the floor, Kid came over and whispered in your ear, “Now, about that proper birthday present…”

You dragged him out of there and into the Captain’s quarters without another word.

a/n: aksjldkj i didn't finish this in time to publish at the normal time i usually post, but it's still 10th Jan so happy birthday Kid!!!

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[octobobble]

Break The Narrative AU intro post

I wanna start talking about the au online and such especially since I plan on eventually doing some art and writing + having friends that??? Wanna make and have made art for my au?? Insane. So this is a sorta semi masterpost. Questions about the au are like always welcome.

What’s it about?

Break The Narrative is basically an au with Click Clack (and later on Thespius) at the focus. Basically, the sorta figurative wall that keeps Click Clack from fully affecting the narrative of his world and such gets broken. Things that he would narrate without acknowledging are now things he can fully acknowledge and he can now enter something known as The Narrative Void. The more he tries to edit The Narrative, however, the more that things go awry in ways he could never predict. It eventually turns into them trying to control the “script” of the world, nearly destroying it in the process.

Timeline of events below the readmore

- Someway, somehow, something goes wrong and that little like glass wall between Click Clack and the game narrative gets cracked and breaks

- Click Clack can now actively interact directly with the script of the universe he’s in. Full awareness and such

- It’s a good story, but, well, the god of storytelling can always do a few edits

- butterfly effect of all time, he edits one thing, something else changes in a way he didn’t want

- hm. Click Clack vc well i can fix this <bearer of the curse

- He cant fix this, actually. Every time he edits the script something goes wrong. What the fuck. He’s the god of storytelling he’s supposed to be the editor of everyone’s stories how is this not going right

- it gets to a point where he’s actively fighting the narrative and the narrative is reacting to his meddling. Imagine if you had dev tools but the dev tools were calling you a bitch. That’s where Click Clack is at

- Of course, no one else has awareness of the narrative bc Click Clack was the one that would narrate it out loud. The wall is much stronger for everyone else. But they can see that he’s getting so much worse mentally and it’s. Strange

- Like hey. Is click clack supposed to be melty and have a cracked mask. Wgat the fuck is happening

- also him often going missing from his domain. Which just can’t be good

- Click Clack just wants to get some kind of control over the narrative at this point. It’s not about editing the story now it’s that he wants to have control over the story because the story keeps fighting him

- it gets so bad, in fact, that the narrative goes “ah, but this is a love story, isn’t it”

- You Can Now Play As Thespius(/ref)

- Now Thespius has narrative awareness. Which is *insane* to be hit with bc at this point Click Clack is like in a full spiral

- Because like. How long has Click Clack been messing with the narrative? How long as he been going back and forth? How long has Thespius been unaware of Click Clack going through all of this???

- Click Clack is aware of the narrative. Then Thespius becomes aware of the narrative. Then Click Clack realizes that Thespius is Aware Now

- Oh god. Oh fuck. Oh no. Click Clack wake up you fucked up big time your not-boyfriend knows what you’ve done. You dumb bitch

- Click Clack gets worse because instead of being like “oh Thespius is worried because he cares” he’s like FUUUUUUUCK EVERYTHING BAD FOREVER I NEED TO BLOW UP

- So he keeps fucking with the narrative. He keeps changing things, it’s getting to the point where everything’s just breaking completely. Everything he tries to fix gets worse. He’s the god of storytelling and he can’t even fix the story.

- uhhh something something Break The Narrative name drop. Sorry

- End up in front of a glitched out rift that’s freaking the fuck out, he’s a big inky just absolute mess of a monster. He’s only just barely recognizable through a mask that’s just pieces by now

- Thespius is standing on the spire. The realization hits him that he’s been played into the most convoluted roleswap known to man.

- He’s the villain now. Of course he is. Of fucking course he is.

- of course, at this point, a few other gods have caught on as well. Keeping with the convoluted roleswap thing, he gets so upset that he starts trying to rewrite what’s happening.

- he can’t

- why can’t he rewrite the characters

- ….when did he start thinking of them as characters?

- when did his friends stop being people?

- He finally crashes. He gives up and collapses from the stress and exhaustion

- He passes out. The narrative is finally given enough time to fix itself.

- Click Clack wakes up. He’s in his office. What day is it? Is his mask on?

- …Godpoke walks in. It’s. It’s like nothing happened

- ….theres signs, here and there. That this all happened. Things that the story didn’t clean up. Didn’t edit out.

- ….They all know it happened, don’t they. If he remembers then surely the others do too.

- Well. It’s time to resume our play, isn’t it

Thank you for reading, I’ll prob add more to this post over time etc etc

[inevitably-johnlocked]

I haven't checked in a lot lately (real life is busy as hell), but hi! hello! Do you maybe have some good fics where Sherlock and/or John are multilingual? <33

p.s. this feels sooo nostalgic.

Hi Lovely!

I do have a selection of fics on this post here... it's a bit messy so here are the fics on that post, plus others I know of :)

L'Instinct Suffit by Kate_Lear (E, 2,360 w., 1 Ch. || Sherlock Speaks French) – A shamelessly smutty fill for a prompt on sherlockbbc_fic that just said ‘Sherlock speaks French during sex’.

Coup de Foudre by prettysailorsoldier (T, 6,446 w., 1 Ch. || Teenager/University AU || Alternate First Meeting, Skiing, Winter, Sherlock Speaks French, Christmas Fluff) – When John and his friends decide to blow off some steam after finals with a holiday to the Swiss Alps, he's expecting a week of roaring fires, hot chocolate, and snow as far as the eye can see. He is not expecting to fall head over heels for a fellow guest--a young Frenchman known only as "Blue Scarf"--but John's not one to let a little language barrier get in the way, and, with the help of Google Translate, it might just be a Christmas to remember after all. Part 7 of 25 Days of Johnlock

Pardon my French by archea2 (E, 8,232 w., 3 Ch. || Christmas, Fluff, Language Kink, Voice Kink, John in Afghanistan, Fever, Drunk Sherlock, Paternal Lestrade, Clothed Sex, Drunken Confessions, Humour) – Sherlock's closet Jekyll resurfaces when he's drunk, making him tender, earnest and extremely talkative with John. It's all fine with John - or would be, if Sherlock's Subconscious bloody let him speak English on these occasions.

Not Your Average Roman Holiday by StarlightAndFireflies (M, 11,253 w., 1 Ch. || Alternate First Meeting || Rome, Vacation, Flirting, Romance, First Kiss / Time, International Crime Solving, Language Barrier) – After his relationship with Mary falls apart, John finds himself on what should have been his honeymoon, alone and directionless. Then, a chance encounter with a handsome, intelligent stranger changes his entire outlook -- but this gorgeous man doesn't seem to speak any English... AU in which John is a tourist and Sherlock is working on an international case, and they meet by chance. Sparks fly.

A Gossamer Dream by CarmillaCarmine (E, 15,985 w., 4 Ch. || Writer/Teacher AU || First Meetings, Friends to Lovers, Writer John / Teacher Sherlock, Fluff, London, Holding Hands, Online Friendship / Romance, Phone Sex, Anal Sex, Happy Ending, Alternating POV, Scottish John, Online Relationship, Internalized Homophobia, Hand Holding, Forehead Touching, First Kiss/Time, Texting/Sexting, Rimming, Toplock, Sherlock Speaks French) – Sherlock had never realised one could care so much about someone they'd never met in person. Now he is about to meet the friend with whom he's been chatting online for months and his anticipation is reaching a crescendo. Part 19 of Johnlock Smut (with Feels)

Common Tongues: Unassuming Brilliance by jinglebell (E, 41,174 w., 11 Ch. || PODFIC AVAILABLE || Anal, Rimming, Snowballing, Language Kink, Blow Jobs, BAMF John, Size Difference, Height Difference, Sapiosexual Sherlock, Barebacking, Size Queen) – John may be predictably average in most things, but there are a handful of areas in which he knows he is uncommonly skilled. He can make a great cup of tea, for one. He's also good at patching folks up, putting bullets precisely where he wants them, and listening.The one skill that John is perhaps most exceptional in, though, is language. John is a polyglot.

A Study in Winning by Jupiter_Ash (E, 106,658 w., 11 Ch. || Tennis AU || John POV, Dirty Talk, Mutual Pining, Misunderstandings, Happy Ending, Sherlock Speaks French, Switchlock, Wimbledon) – John and Sherlock are professional tennis players and it’s Wimbledon. One is a broken almost was at the end of his career, the other an arrogant rising star tipped for greatness. It should have been a straightforward tournament. It really should have been. How were they to know that a chance encounter would change everything? Part 1 of Tennis

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If anyone has any more, please do add them!!