#i’m gonna getcha (affectionate)

[tricornonthecob]

Oh, is there any friendship quite like a cat curled up on the opposite side of the room from you, but facing you, staring heavy-lidded, paws curled in and slowly closing their eyes

[ittybittylee]

Jax Tickle hcs 💜✨

- Lee

* Even though he may be an asshole he tends to get very flustered while being tickled. This is because he’s not used to anyone seeing him all soft like that

* thus he feels embarrassed

* And does not wanna screw up his “Reputation”

* Will instantly melt in your hands

* He has that cackling yet snarky kinda laugh?? the kind that gives you butterflies

* He has very ticklish feets ///that are also very fluffy

* His neck, stomach and hips are also very sensitive, even a slight poke could send him into a giggling fit

* He lets on that he absolutely HATES being teased and will do everything in his power to push you away to prevent you from teasing him

* Making Eye contact while tickling him makes him even more flustered

* But he secretly enjoys it, makes him weak in the knees

* Kicks his feet when tickled

* Will not ask for you to stop because he “refuses to beg anyone” so once the damage has been done he’ll just accept his fate

* ^If you confront him about it he’ll get all embarrassed and start shouting at you to “shut up!”

* Will 100% use the excuse “how could I have of asked you to stop when you were nearly tickling me to death?! I couldn’t even breathe nonetheless get a single word out!”

( he could’ve easily IF he wanted to )

* He absolutely adores aftercare, he’ll snuggle right up in your lap and rest his head on your shoulder

* He loves having his ears rubbed, especially if you hold his head while doing so

* Whether or not he’ll admit it, he loves every minute of it

* “You tell anybody that I’m ticklish and you’re dead. and that’s not a threat, that’s a promise got it?”

- Ler

* Extremely teasing, smug mischievous ler

* perfect balance between rough and gentle tickles

*is a mean ler

* Absolutely LOVES getting a reaction out of you especially seeing you blush

* Laughs at you while tickling because he thinks it’s funny to see you completely helpless

* Finds it hysterical when you snort/squeak/wheeze and will bully you for it //affectionately

* Will do everything he possibly can to get you all flushed and embarrassed just because he knows how much you hate it

* Will not hesitate to absolutely wreck you

* Can and will most definitely tease you especially with baby talk

* This mf will purposely taunt you by saying “Cootchie cootchie coo” over and over again to embarrass the living hell out of you

* You can beg for him to stop but he won’t, not until you’re all wheezy and breathless

* Loves to taunt you by saying “I’m gonna getcha” in a very sinister voice and at the most random times

* you can tell just by the smirk on his face he’s planning an “unexpected” tickle attack

* His lanky fingers make it easier to scribble away into those hard to reach sweet spots ( inner neck, etc )

* Finds it hilarious whenever he gets a reaction out of you

* “Heh what’s the matter? Does that tickle~? Too bad because I’m gonna do it anyway~”

* Will never let you live it down. Ever.

* Will wiggle his fingers at you on purpose just to make you flinch or blush

* Great aftercare, loves to hold you

* Asks you if you’re okay, hoping that he didn’t take it too far

* He makes sure you’re okay before carrying on with the rest of his day and acting like nothing ever happened

* will threaten to tell the others that you’re extremely ticklish but won’t actually tell them

[babygirlspurgeon]

aka welcome to the minnesota wild as shania twain songs! this is a many months long passion project @alshaverpressbox and i have been pecking away at but here on the eve of a fresh season we are ready to share! 

daemon hunt - man! i feel like a woman!

i bet you’re wondering how this all started….. mr hunt mentioned this was his karaoke song and well, it spiraled into the rest of this. we thank you for your service sir 🫡

wild fans - you’re still the one, i’m holdin’ on to love (to save my life)

love is stored in wildblr ❤️

jon merrill - i ain’t no quitter

is he the best at hockey? no but he is for mullets & gays <3

jake middleton - you win my love, party for two

there's no speed limit/just go faster, faster, don't be slow/rev it up, rev it up 'til your engine blows (please watch this music video with him in mind i beg)

brock faber - rock this country, no one needs to know

i just know he also screams the minnesota mention in rock this country. also was sad to realize months too late how good of a brock for calder song it is

matt boldy - the woman in me (needs the man in you)

i'm not always strong/and sometimes i'm even wrong/but i win when i choose/and i can't stand to lose

joel eriksson ek - honey, i’m home, gonna getcha good, giddy up

most persecuted girl in the world who deserves a good foot rub and a lil snack

marcus foligno - i’m not in the mood (to say no), party for two

ain’t no need to plan it, jump right in and jam it also yes party for two is for both middsy and moose and they’re singing it to spurge. they're cool fun guys who bring the party what more is there to say?

marat khusnutdinov - ain’t no particular way 

welcome to minnesota get loved bitch

marco rossi - up!, i’m jealous 

nice young man who’s persevered with mild antics for his goalie that he’s totally normal about

zach bogosian - you lay a whole lotta love on me

beefcake..... i can feel your body tuggin' gently on my mind/stirring up a feeling i thought i'd never find

jonas brodin - love gets me every time, don't be stupid (you know i love you)

really need to hear “i gol’ darn gone and done it” come out of this man’s mouth Right Now

liam ohgren - wanna get to know you (that good)

don't wanna miss a minute/wanna be right in it/do everything you're doing/go everywhere you're going

marc-andre fleury - legends never die, when you kiss me 

feel very normal about our record setting goalie really really liking us

jesper wallstedt - thank you baby (for makin’ someday come so soon)

he's here........

filip gustavsson - what a way to wanna be!

giving "android in the group chat" giving nobody’s perfect by hannah montana

mats zuccarello - you've got a way

when your hockey soulmate shows up and your career revitalizes.....

ryan hartman - whatever you do! don’t!

hartzy is soooo normal about kirill as we all know

jared spurgeon - any man of mine, from this moment, come on over

i do indeed give my hand you with all my heart.....

declan chisholm - white claw

so when he calls/say fuck it all

freddy gaudreau - i won’t leave you lonely 

soft song..... soft man....

marcus johansson - c’est la vie

hold tight, it comes right eventually

jakub lauko - (if you’re not in it for love) i’m outta here

passing this vibe check with flying colors btw

kirill kaprizov - she’s not just a pretty face, that don’t impress me much

she's got everything it takes, and yeah she thinks you're alright but that won't keep her warm in the middle of the night.... he is That Bitch

nordy - juanita 

nordy save us, save us nordy

billy g - whose bed have your boots been under?

you never know with that bitch...

gone but never forgotten (affectionate and derogatory)

mason shaw - forever and for always

and there ain't no way/i'm letting you go now

charlie coyle and jason zucker - when

zoyle will be reuninted one day right? right????

brandon duhaime and connor dewar - in my car (I’ll be the driver), if it don’t take two

if i'm not with you/no it ain't worth goin' through/if it don't take two

matt dumba - it only hurts when i’m breathing

do i think about dumbs talking about how he and jimmy wanted to be around til the reds came back all the time? perhaps

dean evason - i ain’t going down

her smile got me through the years/dried away the tears/it filled me with hope

pat maroon - is there life after love?

answer: there is not life after love. at least not for patty "chicago" maroon

kevin fiala - nah!

yeah, that's it (that's all), we had fun (we had a ball)/it was good while it lasted, but now i'm past it

parise and suter - ka-ching

dig deeper in your pocket, come on, i know you’ve got it <- them to chuck fletcher

[catsandbats13]

Scaryoke Scars

Final chapter! Sorry this one is so short lol

Chapter 4

SMUT WARNING

“Let’s getcha cleaned up, doll,” he said after locating his boxers and pulling them on haphazardly. Stan grabbed a cloth and ran it under some warm water before wringing it out a bit and bringing it over to you so he could wipe you clean of the mess you’d both made. As he ran the cloth over your skin, you were once again struck by how gentle he was being with you, it was a side of him that not everyone got to see and it seemed that you of all people brought it out of him. You’d seen that those hands were capable of incredible power and remarkable softness at the same time and it had you awestruck.

Once he was satisfied that you were clean, Stan discarded the cloth and bent down to grab something from underneath the table you were still currently perched on. You sat up to get a look at what he was picking up, and it turned out to be his white button up shirt. He held it out to you with a sappy smile, indicating he wanted you to wear it. You grinned from ear to ear, thrilled he wanted you to wear something of his. You dressed in comfortable silence, Stan forgoing his shredded jacket and the aforementioned shirt and you chose to dress simply in his button up and panties.

“I don’t know about you, but I’m ready to sleep for a week,” the man sighed out, bending back to crack his undoubtedly sore spine before reaching over to pull you into his side, his arm a comforting weight on your shoulders.

“After surviving a zombie attack and you fucking my brains out, I think I’ll sleep for a month,” you quipped, earning a bark of laughter from Stan. You loved that you could make him laugh, it made your heart flutter every time.

“C’mon then, let’s go to bed,” he yawned out, gesturing towards the doorway with his head.

“You’re not gonna make me sleep on the cot?” You teased, poking his ribs.

“Nah you’ve earned bed privileges,” he smirked back at you, making you good naturedly roll your eyes at him.

The two of you quietly made your way to the bedroom down the hall, neither one of you letting go of the other as you walked. You were pleased that Stan was just as affectionate after sex as he was during, not that you should’ve been surprised. It was fairly obvious at this point that he had a soft spot for you.

Once in the room with the door shut, Stan took your hand and led you to the mattress, which dipped under your combined weight as you both settled in for the night. A faded blanket was draped over you as your head came to rest on the pillow. Stan instantly pulled you back into his arms after he laid down, snuggling up to you and burying his face in your hair. You instantly responded in kind and cozied up to his broad, fuzzy chest, a contented sigh leaving your lips.

You felt him exhale softly into your locks and his fingers tighten their grip around you faintly. Sensing something was wrong, you mumbled into his pecs, “Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, yeah, everything’s fine. It’s just…” he trailed off, at a loss for words for once.

“It’s just?” You echoed, lifting your head so you could study his expression. He looked uncharacteristically vulnerable, eyes shining with emotion. It was rare to see him so unguarded with his feelings.

“It’s just…I could’ve lost you and the kids tonight. What if I hadn’t been fast enough? I’d never forgive myself if any of you got hurt because of me.”

You were briefly stunned into silence by his confession, the emotion in his voice was evident, he seemed genuinely frightened at the thought.

You quickly recovered and spoke in what you hoped was a reassuring tone; “Stan, honey, you can’t think about the what-ifs or you’ll drive yourself insane. What matters is that you were there for us and risked your life to save ours. We’re all alive and safe thanks to you.”

”I know, I know. I just can’t stop thinkin’. The whole time I was fighting those undead freaks, I was so scared I’d be too late to rescue you and the kids and I’d never get the chance to tell ya I’m crazy about you-“

You cut him off again before he could dissolve into more of an agitated ramble.

“I’m here now, Stan. So tell me,” you placed a comforting palm on his cheek, attempting to distract him from his anxious thoughts.

He flashed you an appreciative look, leaning into your touch.

“Y/N, I’m crazy about you. I think about ya all the time, I love watching you indulge the kids and their weirdness, and seeing you talk circles around clueless tourists never gets old. Also, I’ve been making up excuses to keep you at the shack longer and I check out your ass anytime you bend over.”

You cracked up at his admission, you’d had a suspicion he’d been lying about all those extra chores at work lately. You’d been oblivious to his ogling but you couldn’t say anything since you’d been doing much of the same.

“You’re something else,” he continued, eyes shining with adoration.

“I don’t really get what you see in an old fart like me but I’m glad you feel the same.”

“Hey!” You said in mock offense.

“You better not be judging my taste in men!”

Stan chuckled, craning his head down to give you a kiss.

“Wouldn’t dream of it, doll.”

“Good, cause you should know I’m only attracted to handsome, brave, men of mystery,” you teased him.

“Lucky for you then,” he said with amusement.

All at once, it hit you just how exhausted you were. The adrenaline had finally faded, leaving you drowsy and spent. You could only imagine just how tired Stan was after his heroic performance and subsequent railing of you. Taking the initiative, you gave him a final peck and reached over to pull the cord of the bedside lamp, filling the room with darkness.

“Good night, Stan,” you murmured affectionately.

“Good night, Y/N,” he whispered back, keeping a tight hold on you as you both began to slip into slumber.

You hadn’t known when the night began that this was where you’d end up, but regardless of how you got there, you were incredibly thankful and blissfully happy. Stan returned your affections and you had made love in a passionate frenzy on the kitchen table, fulfilling your wildest fantasies.

You fell asleep straight away, feeling content and sated, knowing you were safe and loved in his arms.

[fanficsandfluff]

A Polka Dot Drabble

Fandom: The Suicide Squad (2021), DCEU

Characters: Harley Quinn, Abner Krill (Polka Dot Man)

Completely stolen inspiration from @fluffy-lee-boa and their post ! I'm so sorry, I had to, the idea was SO FRICKIN CUTE!!! First fic in a while, and it's short and super fluffy, so I hope y'all like!

Abner Krill did not look people in the eyes. Anyone: humans, animals, monsters... no one.

"How many you got on there?"

Abner lifted his eyes to the general direction of Harley Quinn, seated beside him on the flight back home.

"How many what?" his soft voice asked back.

"Polka dots," Harley poked one on his arm.

"Oh, um.. I don't know."

Switching perspectives here for a second; Harley was always one to please. If she felt the love, she gave the love. Abner needed a little. He was looking real low to her. So, she sat next to him on the plane on purpose and kept shooting him smiles and glances in hopes he'd look back. No such luck, so she then had to ask.

"Let's find out together. I'm sure you're dyin' to know!" Harley pressed, teeth in full show with an eager smile. She turned herself towards the Polka Dot Man, tucking one leg beneath her opposite thigh to more comfortably sit.

"N-No, I don't really-- I don't like being-- Harley!"

"1 2 3 4 5 -- What?" she inquired, high-pitch in tone. Her eyes were wide to feign innocence. She had started veering her fingers down towards the dots on Abner's side and stomach when he called her name.

"It--," he gulped down any further words he was planning on spouting.

"You ticklish or somethin', Abby?" Harley leaned in a bit closer to Abner's ear when she asked, a squeak of giddy energy following her question. She started poking again, this time watching his face more closely as opposed to focusing on the dots.

"Noho!" Abner choked out and his arm cinched to his side.

"No??" Harley gasped, "Uh ohhhh," she drew out, now switching to pinches, "Liar liar pants on fire!"

Abner was... a bit stunned, to say the least. Why did he invite such playfulness? What was he doing different from normal that Harley picked up on? Why was he laughing? Why did his insides want to crawl to his outsides?

"Whoops! Gotta restart the count! Geez, Abby, pull yourself together or we're never gonna crack this case," Harley used a few fingers now to press and wiggle into every polka dot she set her sights on, even a few spaces in between.

"Stop!" Abner whispered, "W-Wait-- HA!"

His arms were frozen at his sides, unable to make much use out of them. His laughs were coming out in giggles and in breathy gasps and hissing.

"Okay okay, ya big baby," Harley lifted her fingers from the fabric of Polka Dot Man's suit but kept them poised an inch above his sides, ready to strike again.

Abner had wound up rotating himself so he was facing Harley, in the midst of his shuffling and laughter. Probably not the best position if he wanted the tickling to stop. But something in him told him that was his best chance at his defense.

"Nohoho no--Noho!" Abner jumped in his seat when he saw Harley's arms move in. Harley herself was chuckling away, finding Abner's childlike laughter extremely endearing.

"You two gonna get it over with or what?" Bloodsport over on the other side of the plane semi-shouted.

"I'mmmmm gonna getcha!" Harley teased Abner, flexing her fingers and rotating her wrists to mimic another tickle attack.

Abner raised his hands on instinct to cover his reddening face and smiling mouth. He couldn't handle the teasing, nuh-uh, no way, no how.

Harley took the lead and she shot her hands to Abner's now exposed belly. Both hands, fingers digging in wildly. Her thumbs even found their way towards the small man's dips in his hips while the rest of her fingers kept working their magic.

Abner lost it. He fell forward into his own lap, effectively trapping Harley's hands right where they were. His snickers shook his whole body. Loose pleads were gushing from his lips, largely silenced by his budding laughter.

"Someone's a little tickle bug," Harley cooed, wrestling her hands free but not without landing some more pokes along the dots covering Abner's back as he recovered.

Abner remained totally hunched over, catching his breath. His insides were bubbly again. And he knew it wasn't from the parasite eating him alive.

Blinking his teary-from-laughter eyes open, Abner slowly righted himself in his seat. His deep brown eyes were trained on Harley's knee but he slowly lifted them up. He shut them once more with a prepping wince before opening them again. He looked right at Harley's brilliantly beaming face and he found himself smiling no longer from the tickling she inflicted on him. He then looked towards Bloodsport, then Nanaue, then Cleo. They were all smiling at him in one way or another.

"Heh," he let out a happy breath, sucking it back in when he glanced Harley's way again.

"Thank you," he mumbled, bashful again but happy.

"Anytime, Abby," Harley pinched his cheek affectionately.

No more mother for right now. Not one of them was. His friends were all beautiful and handsome and cool. He could look them in the eyes now, that's for sure.

[finn-ray-nal-beads]

I need a crack fic of Clyde hiding his last present *insert Justin Timberlake Dick in a Box playing*

A/N: I HAVE COMPLETED SO MANY CRACK THOTS IN MY HEAD TONIGHT IT’S SICK THANK YOU EVERYONE WHO HAS FUELED THIS FIRE! @xxcatrenxx I really hope you love the twist I put on this fic, thank you for allowing me to write it out... to completion 👀ENJOY BABE! 

Warnings: mentions of children, all the Xmas feels because I have to with this big ol’ softy bear, a big ol’ dick in a box, slight teasing, ass slapping, Doggystyle, deep penetration from our good ol’ country boi, caught in the act of or slightly thereafter, stuffing, breeding kink, dirty talk because Clyde is the best dirty talker, unprotected sex, cum eating, smut smut and more smut, with a lot of Xmas fluff because I hate myself

“Now what do y’all say to yer mama fer lettin’ ya open these on Christmas Eve?” Clyde bellows out at the kids as they ‘ooh’ and ‘aah’ at their Christmas themed PJ’s. 

“Thank you, mama,” your five-year-old daughter and three-year-old son collectively turn and run to you perched on the couch, a Tom and Jerry in hand, enveloping them in the biggest hug you could possibly muster. 

“Yer so welcome ma sweet babies,” wrapping them in the fuzzy blanket you had draped over yourself, and kissing them until they begged to be let go of, “mama loves ya so much,” laughing as they screamed in fake cries as they wiggled away from your affections. 

“Now y’all go ahead an’ getcha jammies on an’ all that stuff,” he chuckled, watching you love and kiss on them as they tried to run away, “then ya can come give yer mama more kisses before Santa comes tonight,” they stopped dead in their tracks to beam at their dad who had said the magic word. 

They leaped off the loveseat, bounding up the stairs with new jammies in hand to get their little teeth brushed, and go potty before slipping into dreamland. You moved to get up off the couch to go help with the marathon of getting them to settle in bed before having a strong hand push you right back down. 

“Now, darlin’,” he tsked, the light from the Christmas tree glimmering in his eyes, “ya jus sit here an’ look perty while I get the babies all ready fer bed,” lowering down to steal a kiss from your lips, “you do enough round these parts, let me handle it fer one night,” kissing your forehead as he put the blanket back over your legs and lumbered upstairs to survey the damage from the kids. 

You sighed, watching the fire burn in the large fireplace of your new home, the farmhouse feel enveloping you in the country Christmas you’d been dreaming of since you’d met your sweet husband. The large pine tree beside your couch, emanating a fresh scent coupled with the embers from the flames in the kindling, and the sweetness of your hot drink as you let out a relieved sigh. 

Life was absolutely perfect. You had a home, two perfect children, a doting and affectionate husband, and the financial freedom the both of you had worked so hard for the past several years, not akin to the ‘cauliflower incident’ as you referred to it fondly. 

Above your loud thoughts, a low hum rang through the stairs as you took a sip from your mug. The sound of Clyde’s honeyed voice, lulling your sweet babies to bed with a Christmas story as they questioned every single page he’d read. 

You chuckled at their wonder, asking where Rudolph was in Santa’s line up, how many cookies does he usually eat, and your daughter making sure to tell her daddy to turn the fire off before he and mama went to bed so Santa wouldn’t burn his bottom on the way down the chimney. 

“Goodnight babies,” you heard him whisper, latching the doors to their rooms as he padded down the hallway. 

You waited for him to appear on the stairs, wanting to cuddle up with him by the fire with your mugs of liquor before heading off to bed, but after a few minutes, were growing slightly worried as to what he was up to. 

You released your legs to the slightly colder air, placing your mug on the coffee table as you padded upstairs, enclosing yourself in the sweater you had chosen for the evening. 

“Babe?” you whispered, wondering if he was alright, seeing the dark hallway with no light in your master bedroom. 

“Clyde, honey?” walking into the room to flip on the bedside light, jumping at the scene before you. 

“Holy shit!” you cleared your throat, “what’s goin’ on here?” eyebrows raised as you saw your big bear perched on the ivory comforter of your California king bed, clad in nothing but a pretty big box wrapped around his pelvis. 

“I don’t know Mrs. Logan,” he purred out, “why dontcha open it up ta see what’s inside… I think ya might like it just a lil’ bit,” winking as he watched you inch closer to the edge of the bed. 

Pushing your hair behind your head, gathering your body onto the sheets as you reached for the bow covered box, unwrapping the pretty packaging as his hand snaked behind to grip you full ass perched on your feet. 

“Oh honey,” you mewled, salivating at his large and in charge cock, bobbing at attention, practically springing out of its cage covered in precum and begging to be stuffed inside you, “I love it,” bringing your hands to stuff the oversized sweater in between your legs to curb the aching sensation in your netherregions. 

“He loves ya so much baby girl,” gripping and kneading on your ass as you removed the rest of the contents from his body, “in fact, he may wanna stuff ya like a Christmas turkey tonight darlin’,” smacking the covered skin as you fell forward on his stomach. 

“Would ya like that?” he mewled, gathering your fuzzy covering to push it, revealing your little blush pink panties underneath, “ta be stuffed with me again?” feeling the wetness that had soaked through them in the process. 

“Y-yes babe,” you whined, pushing your cunt into his touch as you sucked hickeys on his belly, “please fill me up,” whining into the darkness of the bedroom. 

“That’s all I want for Christmas big bear,” assuming the position, ass up, face down on the plush comforter as he scrambled his hulking body to position his cock at your entrance. 

“Well big bear is gon’ stuff ya full again,” pushing down the sheer lace to your knees, “make ya all big an’ round again with ma baby,” slapping your ass as hard as humanly possible before sheathing his aching cock into your tight little hole. 

“Fuck!” you cried out, prompting Clyde to grip the back of your head, pulling you up just enough to penetrate that perfect spot of yours, “now baby girl, ya know ya can’t yell like that,” he huffed in your ear, pushing himself to rearrange your guts in knots, “you’ll wake our precious babies up an’ then what?” snaking a hand to tease your clit as he left open kisses on the exposed shoulder of your sweater. 

“I-I,” you stuttered as he sped up his motions on your mound, only to break away again and shove your face into the down comforter. 

“B-babeeee,” whining as your pussy throbbed on his length, the sensation never failing to burn just a little at his girth, “I-I l-love bein’ full a you,” gasping on every push of his cock on your cervix. 

“I love seein’ my perty baby all full a me,” mewling and grunting as he thrust deeper and deeper, balls clapping on your pussy as he drank in your moans, “ya carry my babies s-so damn well,” gripping the sweater that had fallen up your back, pulling you even more flush with him as he railed the fuck out of you. 

The thought of being completely filled, sending a shockwave to your budding clit, a tingling in your spine egging on the flutters in your pussy walls. 

“I-is ma baby almost ready?” he growled, setting an even more brutal pace as he released his flesh and blood hand on your hip, no doubt a bruise already blooming from his iron grip on it. 

His thick, meaty fingers found their way back to your stiffened bud, the slightest touch sending you to the complete edge of your orgasm, “that’s it Y/N,” he whispered, sweat dripping from his inky locks as he encircled the peak in your sopping folds, “cum all over yer cock,” he uttered out, feeling the shockwaves clamp over his member as you cried out in complete bliss. 

“God fuckin’ d-dammit!” screaming as he sped up to ride your wave out into his own, “C-Clyde baby please!” feeling his movements become more erratic as you slipped from your high. 

“I-I’m,” he stammered out, pumping his cock a few more times into your glistening hole, “‘m fillin’ this p-pussy full,” growling like the bear he was as he released his swimmers into your gaping womb, the warmth wrapping your uterus in a hug it so badly desired. 

“Jesus f-fuckin,” he moaned out, hands covering your ass as he stilled himself, shaking from the aftershocks of his orgasm, “ya alright darlin’?’ patting your ass lightly, smoothing over the raised handprint he’d left. 

“Ya,” you panted out, trying to still your breathing as you felt his softened cock slide out of you, the sound making you sigh in relief as the air hit your hole. 

“Gah, yer so damn perty,” marveling at the mixture seeping out of your slit, “so fuckin’ wet,” scooping it up to stuff right back in, causing your pussy to clamp back down on his thick fingers. 

“Gettin’ greedy, huh,” he chuckled, watching as your cunt ate up the spend, “ya know we’re gonna hafta do this more than once ta get it right,” removing it to lick up the rest in his mouth. 

“I know babe,” setting yourself up to his blushing chest, rubbing his pecs as you leveled with his face, “remember we have two kids,” raising your pretty fingers to his face only to have him kiss the tips ever so lightly. 

“I know baby doll,” he cooed, pushing strands of hair out of the way, leading your lips to meet his in a searing kiss on the bed. 

“Daddy?” a shrill voice echoed from the doorway of the bedroom, the both of you freezing in horror as your pupils met, trying to ignore the call. 

Clyde turned around slightly, to notice your daughter crowding the side of the entryway, “y-yes baby?” he whispered faintly, hoping the voice was a figment of his imagination, the color leaving his face as he noticed her sweet little face scrunched up in a questioning look. 

“What were you an’ mama doin”?” she cocked her head to the side, inching into the light, teddy bear in hand, blinking her cute little eyes to adjust to the light. 

“Uhm,” voice cracking as he cleared his throat to give her an answer, not daring to turn around as he was still fully nude, “mama an’ I well, uhm, well we were,” panicking to look back and you completely lost in silent laughter at his starstruck behavior. 

You pat his chest, “I got this babe,” you tutted, pressing your index finger into his plush lips, and glancing over at your little girl, still waiting for an answer. 

“Daddy an’ I were havin’ some alone time baby girl,” you spoke just loud enough for her to hear and hopefully simple enough to understand, “now dontcha think you should be in bed?” cocking an eyebrow “I don’t think Santa will come if he knows yer still awake,” crossing your arms as you stared her pretty little puppy dog eyes into the abyss they were. 

“I jus’ wanted ta make sure daddy wasn’t hurtin’ ya, mama,” a tear rolling down her cheek as she started to back away into the dark hallway. 

“Oh baby girl,” getting up from your spot to lower your sweater and pull your panties back up, “daddy wasn’t hurtin’ me at all, now were ya daddy?” looking to him as you pulled her into a hug. 

“No honey,” he pandered, still facing away to shield her innocent eyes from his now completely limp member, “daddy wasn’t causin’ mama any kinda pain, I promise,” blushing and shying away at his little girl. 

“See?” you pet her little head, “I promise we’re both okay baby,” kissing her forehead, “now let’s get back ta bed now,” leading her back into the hallway towards her room, and tucking her in bed. 

“Mama?” she whispered as you back away towards the door. 

“Yes, baby?” answering her back as you glanced back into the night lit room. 

“Whatever y’all was doin’, I think you won the contest,” her face showing absolutely no signs of joking. 

“Well,” stifling an all-out snort, “t-thank ya, baby,” shying into the hallway to take a deep breath, “I think mama won too,” smiling at her dozing off. 

“Good night sweet girl, Merry Christmas,” whispering as you moved to leave the room. 

“Merry Christmas mama,” her sweet voice echoed back as you found your way back to the bedroom, chuckling in the hallway as you shook your head. 

This was for sure the merriest Christmas you’d ever experienced, and the most mortifying to boot. 

And it all started with a dick in a wrapped box.  

_____________

WELL, I HOPE WE ALL LEARNED A VALUABLE LESSON HERE... LOCK YOUR DOORS AND CLYDE IS FUCKIN’ DADDY WHO NEEDS A PRETTY LARGE BOX TO COVER THAT MANHOOD A HIS... ���

THANK YOU FOR THE ASK AND I HOPE YOU LIKED IT, BABE!

🖤,

ray-nal-beads

[infinitegalahad]

How To Say I Love You (Without Saying I Love You) SNEAK PEAK

Hey guys! Sorry for going AWOL, school and my mental health have been kicking my butt!  I’m in my finale week of the winter term which ends Friday, and then only eight more weeks of school, which is weird to think about. I’ll get this out by the end of the week, but enjoy a sneak peak of your favorite soft boy. Literally, LOOK AT HIM. Cutie patootie. Love of my life. A literal child. Anyways, enjoy a little peak under the cut! ;D

“What are you doin? Stop pushin’ me! I can’t dewit!” Shifty whispered in a hush as Floyd and Popeye pushed him towards the truck where you were loading supplies for easy company.

“Boy, quit being afraid of anything. Take that leap of faith!” Floyd called out before pushing Shifty near the truck before he and Popeye hid for cover.

Shifty turned around to find them before he heard a familiar voice call his name.

“Shifty?”

The Virginian sharpshooter turned his shoulder and hid his hands behind his back, smiling with a piece of his golden chestnut hair falling on his forehead. “Miss y/n! Pleasure to see ‘yah. I hope I wasn’t interruptin’ anythin’ too important.”

“Shifty, you’re too sweet. I was just finishing the last load of K-bars…” You explained, lifting a large box and shoving it into the back of her full truck, unable to see. Finally, done after a long day. Wiping the sweat off of your forehead, you walked towards Shifty only to be greeted by a variety of poppies.

“ ‘ere, got ‘em for you. You said you like the color red…” Shifty blushed, looking to the side. Floyd and Popeye hid behind the side of the truck, giving him a thumbs up.

You took the flowers and examined them, a smile growing on your face. “Oh, these are so sweet! Thank you..” You put the flowers in the pocket of your overalls to retrieve a few hershey bars from the back of the truck, “I’ll getcha’ somethin-”

“Wait, miss y/n!” Shifty announced, following after you as he grabbed your soft hand, pulling you back. You tripped on your own feet, almost falling to the ground before Shifty catched you, his hand on the small of your back. The two of you stared at each other, cheeks both burning with desire.

Shifty coughed and lifted you up, neating your ruffled shirt and cap with your hair messily tucked into. “S-sorry, I…would like to ask you somethin’. Not chocolate, ma’am.”

You raised your eyebrows, insisting that he go forward with his response, his hand still in yours. He didn’t even notice, but you did. You could recognize his soft, tan skin from anywhere.

“Would you go to the amusement park with me? As my date?” Shifty blurted out like word vomit, “I mean, only if you want. If you don’t wanna go with somebody like me, then I understand.”

“Yes, of course I would!” You also blurted out, your face red like a tomato. You took your cap off and hid your face, embarrassed by yourself. Inhaling, you let out an exhale before pulling yourself together. “Shifty, I would love to go with you. I wasn’t even planning on going at all until you asked me.”

Shifty’s eyes sprinkled with happiness, like a child on Christmas morning. “Really? You wanna?” He squeezed your hand, realizing that he was still holding it.

You looked up at him with a warm smile, placing your dirty hand on top of his. “Yes, I would love to.”

Shifty looked speechless. The rumors were true; his smile was infectious. Perfect and bright like the sun of a warm summer day.

“Sufferin’ succotash!” He cried, “Miss y/n? Can I ask you one last thing?”

“Yes, Shifty?”

“Can I give you a hug?”

It was definitely not what you were expecting. But then again, you weren’t hesitant. Shifty could do no wrong-he simply seemed over the moon about asking you out. You were as well, but seeing Shifty’s excitement made you smile and accept it. He was too cute for his own food.

“Yes, you can.” You opened your arms only to have long hands pull you up and spin you around. It was a quick welcome as you spun around, heartfelt laughter escaping from you and Shifty. Shifty could do no wrong, whether that be at shooting or giving the best bear hugs. They were bear-like, but affectionate and protective. He trapped his arms around your waist as you held the back of his necks, your fingers tangled in his soft hair which shined in the sun. Shifty looked amazing no matter what, always glowing.

Babe threw the clown nose off of his face along with the roses Guarnere had picked out for him. Eugene was walking by, mortified to see Babe dressed (apparently) as a clown and a disappointed Guarnere. Not an unusual sight.

“Heffron,” Eugene walked towards a sad Babe, scanning his figure. “What are you doing…”

“I’m heartbroken! Look at them!” Babe mourned, pointing at you and Shifty in an embrace, happily giggling. “I was gonna ask miss y/n out and give her these roses. I dressed up like a clown since I thought we could both be clowns together.”

Eugene simply blinked, perplexed by Babe’s logic. All he could think of was the word Yikes. He would’ve most likely scared away y/n instead of winning her heart over. “Pardon?” He looked at Guarnere for answers, who simply shrugged at him.

“Don’t look at me like that. I tried, the kid wouldn’t listen. He’s a lovesick puppy with that damn dame.” Guarnere explained, crossing his arms as he looked at the happy couple.

The Cajun medic, along with Babe the sad clown and Guarnere, observed you and Shifty. A small smile crooked at his lips. He normally wasn’t one for gossip or dating, but he was happy for the two of you. Even someone as quiet as him didn’t deny the obvious chemistry between the two of you. It was like the two you were destined to be together. Humble, adored, and both beautiful in your own, respective rights.

“Yeah…” Eugene slowly bopped his head, “There sure like lovesick puppies…”

[bettersafethandicks]

oh gross this got out of hand i guess ill throw it in the tag im not editing it though sorry

oh to be a stupid little researcher on a team hired by the crimson raiders , oh to be attacked by the cov, to be trapped in a little outpost shack when you hear the commotion, to reach for the pistol kept in there only to have someone else grab it, leaving you to cram yourself in a equipment cabinet in a panic. 

 to hear the door be kicked open with a fanatic shout and hear your teammate get out a single gunshot through the roof of the shack before a horrid wet crunching noise and a heavy thump of a body hitting the floor, peeking through the cracked cabinet door to see enough of the prone body and handle of a thrown axe to know exactly what just happened.  staying curled up in that cabinet for what feels like hours, hand pressed over your mouth to quiet the breathing youre certain everyone can hear.

oh to hear a bandit stomp in after the gunfire has stopped, looting whatever they can.  to feel time slow to a crawl as the rummaging approaches you, adrenaline overloading your body so much its impossible to even move.  to have the door thrown open, the sudden light blinding you, a harsh laugh and a rough hand gripping your arm to wrench you free of your nest.  a screech that feels more animal than human flying from your mouth, twisting and flailing in the grip of the cultist; the sound of renewed struggles making the less coherent psychos perk up, and if you werent currently in the hands of a higher ranking bandit, youd be mauled on the spot.

insisting that youre ‘not a crimson raider- no- your team was just hired to collect data, you don’t have ties to them- ‘

until the bandit raises a gun and says ‘that’s a shame, they were looking for one of the firehawk’s little lackeys to take back, but if youre sure youre not a raider then they’ll just kill you here ‘

and suddenly youre 'a raider a raider i’m a raider please-’

to be tied up and thrown in the back of the technical with everything theyve looted and a couple bodies.  hearing someones half broken echo go off with a crimson raider at hq trying to get in contact with the research team, hearing the intercepted raider radio transmission sending out a patrol to check on you guys, the driver turning it up just for you.  by the time the radio buzzes with a “Site 859 compromised- those fucking cultists- looking for survivors- “  you’re already far into CoV territory.  

oh to be dragged in front of the twins and see them excitedly rock paper scissors over who gets you, tyreen pouting when troy wins and gloats about it as he steps down off the pedestal their thrones are on.  flinching away as he reaches for you and calls back to tyreen that you barely ever have any fun with them anyway 

being hauled off your feet like you weigh nothing, slung over his shoulder, taken to a livestreaming room as he flips on the ‘RECORDING’ sign outside the door.  sitting you half on his lap on a couch youd seen in these propaganda videos before

troy speaks with an almost playful tone  ‘Alright, now your job, little raider, is to beg and cry for help from your big bad firehawk so she crawls out from wherever she’s hiding.  Tell ‘em theyve got three days to come getcha- really sell it, y’know?’ his grip on you tightens, pressing you against him and leaning his face in so you can feel his breath on your throat, ‘maybe it’ll help to imagine that youre real scared and if she doesnt come to your rescue, youre going to be oh so slowly eaten alive...or something.’  he punctuates his instructions with a wet tongue dragging up the side of your throat, a tongue you can’t see from this angle, but it feels far too long.

cambots whirr into view, waiting for his cue-  ‘Oh! And one more thing.‘  Troy takes one of your hands into his, thumb pressing into your palm as he brings it up to his face.  “this isn’t live tv, babe, so you try and tip off the losers and we’re just gonna do another take. And every time you make me redo this-’  that tongue slides out of his mouth, twisting over your fingers as his jaw splits at the seams with an audible wet pop.  you stop breathing.  razor sharp teeth prick at your skin as he mouths at your suddenly incredibly fragile fingers, the hungry drool slicking over your skin telling you that he would like nothing more than for you to disobey.  just as fast as he revealed his monstrous features, his tongue slides back and he pulls your hand back to safety and resets his face  ‘you lose one of these.’

not having to act much at all for the camera, knowing that if lilith or a rescue team came for you theyd be heading into a trap but god you were so fucking scared and this was your only shot-  Troy smirking , speaking derisively to the future audience, arm slung so casually over your shoulders keeping you nice and close

it was over too soon, and you prayed you did a good job.  you were bait, at least, and you’d be alive long enough to have a sliver of a chance-

‘Cut!’ troy called, standing up to slide the long coat off and toss it over a nearby chair.  “right- get that out to the liarhawk and pals today.’ troy spoke to the cambot,, ‘now- im fuckin hungry, so we’re gonna do the letsflay for thursday right now, k?’  he turned to you, tongue peeking out to lick over his lips as he pushed you to your back, a spark of sheer panic making you try to jolt up, only to be held down by his prosthetic with a soft chuckle.  troy got onto the couch, straddling you and pinning your legs down, your head resting on a throw pillow that would have been comfortable if not for the current situation

his jaw started to shift as he looked down at you, his gaze almost affectionate

you stammer ‘W-wait no no you said- you said i had three days for the raiders to come and -’ 

Troy laughed, wheezing like it was the funniest thing he’d ever heard, “oh my god you- you really- hhahahahaha sweetheart, I lied.”

midway through a laugh, his grin broke apart.  his face was an open, horrid display of teeth, too many- too many teeth- a blue tint to the drool starting to drip from that awful tongue, so eager- somehow you could tell he was still smiling as he pushed up your shirt to reveal your soft middle,

you thought you’d scream when his teeth sank in, but no- no your breath caught in your throat like youd been choked.  you didnt even feel the pain right away, just the wrong feeling of something being undone, broken apart- and then he pulled and you felt it and it was like you were being torn apart because thats exactly what was happening- your skin stretched until it met his teeth and was sliced with a jagged edge, muscle pulling and tearing to yield to his much stronger jaws and you couldnt help but watch . 

screaming, fighting, trying to kick and twist and shove him off of you, not succeeding in making him budge, your pushing hands only following his head back as he liberated the sizable chunk of meat that had been yours until very recently.  troy leaned back out of your reach, snapping his unnatural jaws to toss and catch the bloody shred, swallowing it like he was half-starved.  

A huff that mightve been a laugh came from him, gathering your flailing arms in his mechanical grip and pinning them up over your head, exposing your torso even more.  “they always wait ssso long to fight’  he slurred through blood streaked mandibles, tongue lapping over the red dripping down his jaw

your middle burned, hot and wet with pain, and when he moved in you though he’d simply take another bite but no- no he was moving to your face bringing that awful mouth to your face so close to you so close-

he nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, in a way that you might call gentle if you weren’t writhing like a fish on land.  he nosed at your throat a bit, giving a low, pleased rumble as he went, moving down until you felt his fractured jaw close around the space between your shoulder and neck and bite with a soft hum , and you shrieked, bracing yourself for the tearing and ripping but he held there like that, not pulling, just-

a cold seeped into your muscles, a frigid alien wave that seemed to creep along with your heartbeat.  every pulse brought it further through you, until it ebbed away and left a sluggish heavy feeling in its wake.  down your shoulder through your arm, fingertips twitching a little before they felt too heavy to move.  slinking across your chest, up your neck, ears ringing for a moment as whatever venom he just administered hit.  against your wishes, your breathing slowed from its panicked hyperventilating.  your other arm followed shortly, struggling and grabbing at the couch’s fabric dying down to little shivers.  the chilling wave seeping down your torso, washing over the bleeding hole in your middle and pushing that agony far away, a dull, hot pressure remaining.  your legs were the last to give out, scuffling and and kicking getting slower and slower until all of you stopped. 

you let out a whine

troy, mouth still wrapped around your shoulder, let out a groan.  he swallowed the mouthful of blood that had accumulated while you were being sedated.

jaw loosening, he pulled back, saliva and blood and florescent blue venom coming away in strings from the deep bite.  the siren looked down at you, now pliant and truly helpless under him.  focusing your eyes was hard, but you could make out the red glow of his markings, seeming to pulse with your own slowing heartbeat.

he sighed happily, rolling his shoulder and letting it relax. you could distantly feel a hand running over the bleeding hole in your abdomen.  “mmh...there....now, where were we?”

[monsterlovinghours]

mom!! if u have the time, could you please do anything involving bj x a reader with an eating disorder?? i would be. so grateful,, not feeling good atm and this would help so much!! thank u love u :)

side note anon if you need someone to talk to pls message me! i’m happy to listen or help in any way i can!

-lowkey probably also has an eating disorder, but because he’s dead it doesn’t affect his body so he can eat literal garbage and it won’t hurt him

-when he sees the symptoms of an ED in his s/o, Beej enters Panic Mode.

-what does he do? how does he fix this? he’s not exactly great at taking care of himself, how the fuck is gonna take care of a whole breather?

-he deals with it by drowning you in affection. You thought he was clingy before? Just you wait.

-Presents. You will receive so many odd-smelling presents over the next few days. He also refuses to not be touching you, asking for kisses, constantly telling you how cute you are, how much he likes you. So much so that it almost gets a little obnoxious.

-After a while, you’ll confront him as gently as you can, because while you love him and love how affectionate he’s being, it’s interfering with your day.

-”Beej, you know I love you, right? And it makes me so happy when you want to love on me. But it’s been kind of...excessive lately. Is everything okay?”

-He’ll at first try to play it off like nothing’s changed, but you know him better than that. Eventually, he’ll cave and ask about your eating habits, how he’s noticed them changing and how he’s been worried about you but didn’t know how to bring it up.

-You’ll start to tear up. You thought you were hiding it so well, but honestly? It’s really sweet that he pays enough attention to notice these things.

-You confess to everything, how long you’ve had these issues, how much you dislike your own body. He nods, understanding, and grasps your hands.

-”I’m with you on this, okay babes? We’re gonna getcha feeling better in no time.”

-just knowing he’s on your side makes you feel better. At least you’ve got one person in your corner.

[whumpity--whump--whump]

Luxurious I

Look at me, making a new thing AGAIN! Basically, I made a prompt I thought was way interesting and I thought it'd need more than one part, so here we go. Once again there'll be a sympathetic whumper, and there'll be an extremely conditioned whumpee who loves the whumper to death. Kind of untraditional maybe but screw it I wanna write it. Also probably not chronological order? I dunno what I'm doing, not gonna lie. Oh well I'll figure it out. Allow me to introduce you to Zack, our whumpee, and Lily, our sympathetic whumper.

Extreme conditioning, not rescued by a caretaker but a very different kind of whumper, brief suicidal ideation, past torture, sympathetic whumper, somewhat similar to pet whumpees but Lily treats Zack as a human still

"Oh, dear goodness, what did they to you, you poor thing?!" someone exclaimed, waking up Zack. Zack whimpered. Nothing good every happened what he was awoken by voices talking to him. It always meant someone was mad at him, and that meant the pain would be that much worse. "Oh, sweetheart, look at me, please." Zack looked up at the owner of the voice that seemed to be kind, but nothing is as it seems. A woman in her thirties with soft brown eyes and light strawberry blonde hair looked down at him with worry. She reached forward to touch Zack's face, and he flinched away. He was so tired of being hurt. Sometimes, he just wished his torturers would go too far and kill him. Then he wouldn't have to suffer another day in pain. He had no idea how long he'd been there, but it felt like a lifetime.

"Oh, honey, it's alright. I won't hurt you, darling. I'll get you somewhere safe. They won't hurt you again." The woman brushed hair out of Zack's face with a gentle hand. "I'll keep you safe, honey, nothing will hurt you, I promise."

No one had told Zack that since the day the thugs had dragged him into that white van so long ago. Every day had been hours and hours of torture. He wanted to believe the woman, but how could he be sure? "R-really?"

The woman smiled and held his chin up. "Of course, sweetheart. I will have a few rules, naturally, but nothing you can't handle. Anything's better than here, right?"

Zack had to agree. Anything would be better. If this woman wanted him to stay with her.... A few rules would be okay.

"P-please, please keep me safe."

The woman smiled sweetly. "Of course, sweetie, of course.” She gently touched him. “I’m gonna have to pick you up, hon. It’ll hurt, I’m sorry. I don’t wanna hurt you, but I need to getcha out of here.” Zack nodded and braced himself. The woman slowly hefted him up and Zack screamed in pain before blacking out.

***

“G’morning, sweetie!”

Zack whimpered as he woke. It took him a few seconds for his memories to rush back to him. He was safe. This woman, bless her soul, had saved him. He’d never be hurt again.

Everything was so warm and soft. He hadn’t felt anything like this for the longest time. Everything hurt, yes, but he had been tortured for a year or so. It would take a long time for the pain to go away. But everything felt so nice now. He had forgotten what a bed felt like, or a blanket. Opening his eyes, Zack saw he was on a plush memory foam mattress, blankets heaped on him. The sheets were flannel to keep him warm. The room was soft and clean and nothing about it was scary. The woman was sitting in a chair next to his bed, a warm smile on her face.

“Th-thank you....”

“There’s no need to thank me, little one. I’ll keep you safe and secure, honey.” She stroked a hand over the back of his own. “My name is Lily. What about you?”

“Z-Zack, ma’am.”

“Please, Zack, call me Lily. I only want you to be comfortable. Now, I have a surprise for you, just let me get it.” Lily went out the door but came back a second later with something in her arms. She set it on a nightstand and came to help Zack sit up. Once he was upright, she set the thing on his lap. He looked down to find hashbrowns, eggs, and French toast. A mug of cocoa was left on the nightstand. “You must be hungry, Zack. I don’t know what you’ve been eating, but I want you to be well fed, understood?”

Zack eagerly nodded. “Yes, ma--sorry--Lily.”

Lily smiled and ruffled his hair affectionately. “When you’re done--and take as much time as you need, sweetheart--I’ll help you get washed off, and I’ll tell you what I need from you, okay?”

Zack nodded with hope filled eyes. “Yes, please let me stay, Lily.”

“Of course I will, I just need you to do some things for me so that you can stay.”

[iphoenixrising]

Tiny!Tim and the Fever

Another one I found. Ah, my soulmate @satire-please was sick a while ago and asked for a young Timmy all sick and the Bats find him in Drake Manor. It’s Nightwing in from the Haven with a little Jason!Robin :D

**

When the only people out in Gotham after nightfall are the vigilantes, you know it’s time to go. N and Robin had hit mid-town before their legs were completely numb to all sensation and the clench of his stomach, the almost oops with his zip line was countered by Nightwing’s uncanny sixth sense.

The second time his predecessor caught him by the back of his cape before an epic fail on the roof of the Wallstone (even through the gloves he can’t feel his hands well enough to hold the zip line), they agree wholeheartedly it’s time to call it a night.  Like he’s reading their minds (or he just knows his boys), B already sent the big car down to an alleyway for their pick-up. The heater is blasting when they duck inside, limbs tingling back to life before N revs the engine and they take off into the night.

**

The next afternoon, Alfred Pennyworth hangs-up the Manor telephone and returns to the kitchen, his back a little stiffer than normal.

Looking up from the incredibly stupid “Arctic Academy” assignments for snow days, Jay’s eyebrow cocks up while Dick manages to stir from huddled around his bowl of cereal. Reading the paper and drinking his coffee, B lets the butler go through his own particular set of motions before deciding to intervene. He still taps his cane a little on his walking cast, just so Alfred knows.

The offended muttering while the butler moves around the kitchen, putting sundries away, removing his apron, going for his coat, hat, and scarf.

“It seems,” the butler finally speaks loud enough to be to them, “young Timothy has been left to his own devices and has not answered any phone calls from his parents.” Sliding on his driving gloves, the calm, cool, and collected is just the tiniest bit askew, “they have requested I go check on the boy, just to be certain he hasn’t run against any difficulties.”

Timothy?

Timothy.

“Timmy from down the road?” Jason’s brows furrow, “he’s only a fucking kid. You ain’t telling me they left him alone, right?”

The silence answers that.

B’s already ninja folded the newspaper in perfect lines, standing to retrieve his own coat from the mudroom, hobbling quickly for someone with a broken leg.  “It’s literally six outside, Alfred. I’ll go. Do me a favor and check the scans running in the Cave on the last file Question sent. I’d like to know what he’s gotten into now.”

“I shall, Sir,” Alfred hums back, watching Master Bruce turn into concerned parent while he bundles up against the frigid cold.

B only has to say one word.

“Boys?”

Dick is downing his milk with more wake-up than five minutes ago. He’s due back in the Haven by tomorrow night to start his next round of Officer Grayson Solves Them All, so that gives him plenty of time to check on Timmy before heading back.

Jason scribbles a few more notes, rising from his chair to bend over for the last few lines of the book review.

The heat works double-time, all three frozen to the bone without ever leaving the garage.

Even more disturbing is the complete serenity of Drake Manor when they start to fight through the snow to get up the drive.

(Damn. Should have brought the big car.)

The scene is unmarked, pristine, just a little tell on how long it had been since someone had been in...or out.

Leaving the car running warm, Bruce is out and taking the foot-deep drifts like he takes on criminals as Batman– without a pause.

Dick and Jason are hot on his heels, eyes taking in the surroundings, the contingencies, the environment they might be following him into–

(Robin’s instinct)

The porch is finally somewhat free of snow’s terrible grip where B knocks with a gloved hand, ready to shout in case the young boy was upstairs.

The front door, however, pops softly, heavily, open under his knuckles.

All three of them stop, step back, and prep.

The motion is subtle, a flick of two fingers with the hand not holding on to his cane, and Jason is vaulting off the porch like he’s not a bit freezin’ his nuts off, rounding the house to look for any clues there might be a–

Jackpot.

One window is cracked open upstairs, and he’s already wrapped a hand around the drain pipe to scurry up.

Dick is going around the other side, still seeing no other tracks, no broken anything. Nothing through the windows except a pristine sitting room, an elaborate formal dining room, and the kitchen as he rounds to the back of the house.

The light makes his stop immediately to peer in, already trying to jimmie the window open. On the floor, wrapped up in a blanket, is a tiny bundle of a boy, every muscle drooping, face buried in his upraised arms.

From this vantage, Dick can’t tell if he’s even breathing.

“Get inside!” He yells out, knocking on the glass to see if the kid moves.

(He doesn’t.)

And the window is finally shoved up once he can get his fingers into the right places to trip the locks, and Dick Grayson is through the window fast, just in time for B to come through the kitchen door, and Jay to drop down from a vent overhead.

“Tim? Tim!”

The converge around the bundled boy, just a messy mop of dark hair peeping through the canary yellow fuzzy blanket.

It’s not until B automatically reaches out that the head flops to the side and dull blue eyes blink up at them hazily.

“Mister...Mister Wayne?” Nasilly and hoarse, Tim Drake is pale in the face with only dark rose to his cheeks, tip of his runny nose, and forehead. “What are...what are you doing here?”

“How long have you been by yourself?!” Dick demands gently, pulling a glove off to put a hand on the kid’s forehead, his pounding heart finally easing down slightly now that Tim has actually moved.

“Mrs. Mac couldn’t get through the weather,” the young boy yawns, letting his head drop forward a little into Dick’s cool palm. “S’ okay. I’ve got plenty of stuff to eat and–”

A hard cough rattles his chest a little, and he ducks his head out from under Dick’s hand to bury his face in his blanket.

Jay goes around to close the window Dick left open, noting the thermostat is set at 61 degrees, and nudges B’s shoulder just slightly.

The exchanged look is the very same nope, not okay while Dick just gives in to his instinct and eases the coughing boy into his lap to cuddle.

Tim was too sick, too tired, too everything to really notice the cool outer material of Dick’s coat was against his cheek, and the hand moving in soothing circles on his back felt nice, so nice.

“What’s the plan, Boss?”

B is already pulling out his phone, making a quick call. Jay gives a brusk nod and affectionately ruffles Tim’s messy hair. The big, watery eyes look back up at him blearily around Dick’s coat, and Tim smiles gently.

“Hi Jay. Did you come to play video games with me?”

At the hopeful note in the kid’s tone, Jay completely pretends his heart isn’t breaking open wide. Instead, he crouches down (just like he’s Robin) and tries to make himself smirk so he don’t let Timmy know how ungodly pissed off he is.

“Can’t stay, Baby Bird, but howz ‘bout ya come back ta the Manor with me n’ B n’ Dickie, yeah? We’ll play some games there n’ get some good eats, you feel me?”

That seem to perk Tim up a little, enough to get the boy to at least sit up in Dick’s lap on his own, “can I? I mean, I can? I mean, is that okay?”

His eyes go to B, who is moving smoothly instead of limping heavily when the other line finally picks up. Tim buries himself a little deeper in Dick’s coat when Mister Wayne crosses the room to talk in a very low, deep tone.

Almost a growl.

“It’s totally fine, Timmers,” Jay tries to grin, laugh it off a little so the kid doesn’t think anything is wrong (even though it is, all of this fuckery is), “Alfred was gonna come getcha ta hang out since it’s a snow day.”

“Mister...Mister Pennyworth is so...nice,” Tim replies with another puppy yawn that completely entrances Dick since it’s just too adorable for words.

“Yes, he is, Timmy. And he very, very much would like it if you would come to stay with us for a few days, okay? Jay will go upstairs and pack you some clothes, we’ll wrap a few more blankets around you, and we’ll go have some nice soup and watch some awesome movies between video game rounds.”

“I would love that, thank-you, Dick.” He tries to be enthusiastic, tries to be happy, but he’s so achy and sore and tired. His throat is scratchy and his belly rumbling with hunger under the blanket. “But...but could I get up and get my soup out of the microwave? I’m not sure how long it’s been in there, and I should put it in the fridge for next time.”

And, well, no Timmy, you’re probably not going to escape that hold.

Ever.

Jay grins wider when he sees Dick reflexively tighten down for the long haul.

“Don’t gotta worry ‘bout it, Timmers. Just let Dickie getcha ready ta go outside. ‘S cold as a motherfucking bitch, lemme tell ya, and we don’t wanna letcha get any sicker, you feel me?”

“Little Wing! Language!”

“Aw, hell with it, Dickie. He’s a smartie, didn’t cha know?”

“It’s...I’m not, I mean, I’m okay, really. I can take care of myself.” The boy looks a slightly panicky, his small hands peeping through his blanket burrito to tighten down on the edges. “You don’t have to do anything at all! I promise. I won’t be any trouble–”

“You are never trouble,” B interrupts darkly, finally finishing his conversation, and has returned to the trio without a sound. “And we’re glad to have you stay with us.”

Those eyes get more moist, his nose nudges down into the blanket, his forehead turning into Dick’s jacket.

“After you’re feeling better, I’m going to give you the phone number to the Manor to keep in your room at all times.” B crouches down strangely with the cast, trading places with Jason, who is already moving out of the kitchen and strafing up the massive staircase to start packing their sick Baby Bird a bag.

“O-...Okay,” the boy finally looks up at B’s dark eyes.

“If you’re ever here alone and you need someone for any reason, you need to call me. From now on, Tim, do you understand?”

“Yes, Mister Wayne.”

“Bruce.”

“Yes, Bruce.”

“That’s a good boy,” and the ruffle to his hair is absurdly gentle, making Tim ease down on his death-grip and raise his head up enough to smile.

And later, once he’s in the sitting room of the Manor with old X-Men cartoon reruns on the television, snuggled down in Dick’s lap with fresh pjs, a belly full of Mister Alfred’s soup, and already riding the train to sleep with fever-reducers and a thick blanket to keep him warm, his eyes go from Dick’s easy smile and affectionate eyes, to the absent hand Jay has on his ankle while he works through more of the problems on his Artic Academy paperwork, to B working quietly on a tablet while he sips at his coffee and occasionally looks up to make sure his boy are all right, Tim thinks how nice it would be…

To be part of their family.

[itsgentleteasingrae-blog]

Flushed Lavender

Summary: Google flusters Robbie, loving every moment of it. Lee Robbie, Ler Googliplier

Thought process: Hello again! Third fic incoming. I wanted to try out a few new characters and figured with Robbie being a childish bean, and Google being that flustering, cold, teasing robot, would be a perfect fit. Really this whole story came up with a scene in my head where Robbie asks Google what his favorite color is (a lot like how people talk to siri and all that, so I tried to find some siri questions that would be fitting) (also I hope I got the spots right).

Word Count: 1159

           Google was currently taking care of the dishes that the other egos decided to leave in the sink. Not a fan of it, but honestly no one else was doing it and it bothered Google to a great extent. Luckly with his human design, he was waterproof, allowing him to soak his appendages into the sudsy water as he scrapes off the stains in the dishes, just careful enough to NOT break them.

           Just then a sudden Robbie appeared in the kitchen, curiously looking around for a friend to play with. He had recently been watching video of people playing with Siri, so he figured that it would work the same for his Google friend. He spotted his blue cladded friend over by the sink and skipped on over.

           “Goo!” Robbie said with a happy smile spread on his face.

           “Ah, Robbie, such a pleasure seeing you today. What is it that you may need?”

           “Can you sing?”

           And as if automatically, as if programmed into his system Google replied with, “You wouldn’t like it.” Robbie giggled with joy, seeing his friend’s response.

           “Okay, okay goo, what is your favorite color?”

           “Hmm, it’s hard to say, there are many colors I like. I would have to say a type of green, or maybe a cerulean blue…but purple is my favorite.”

           Robbie wasn’t expecting that much of a detailed answer. Then again this is Google, a company that is made up of many different colors. It made sense that one would be blue, as the droid often wore a blue shirt. WAIT A MINUTE! Google doesn’t have purple in it! Then why of all the colors would Google choose, why purple? Google watched in amusement at the thought process of Robbie as he continued cleaning and putting the dishes away.

           Robbie played with his purple hair as he continued to think, that’s when it hit him. HE was purple and therefore…oh. “O-oh!” Robbie blushed a periwinkle color, “Goo was flirting with Robbie, because Goo said his favorite color was purple and Robbie is purple! G-goo is very clever…”

           Google smiled fondly at the zombie boy, he was just so cute when he gets flustered. Hell, he was cute all of the time. “Whatever do you mean Bab? I’m just saying that out of all the colors purple is my favorite. However, if you want me to be specific, lavender and plum are the most stunning shades.” He glanced over to see Robbie hiding his face in his hands, hiding the now lavender hue spread across his face.

           Google took his hands out of the water and took a hold of Robbie’s hands, gently pulling them away from his beaming face. Like a flower blooming, Robbie’s adorable face was revealed. There was silence for a few moments as they stared into each other’s eyes. The loving moment was interrupted by the water droplets from Google dripping off onto Robbie’s socks.

           “AH! Bab your hands!”

           “Ah, it appears they are still soaked…allow me to fix that.” Google purred as he moved his hands from Robbie’s wrists to his sides, gliding his hands over the fabric of Robbie’s shirt.

           Robbie jolted and squirmed out of Google’s grasp (even though he didn’t want to). There was then silence, despite Robbie’s giggling. They stared at each other’s eyes once more, before Robbie took off. Google didn’t hesitate and ran after him.

“Oh cutie pie, where do you think you’re going? The process of drying my hands has not completed~!”

Google growled playfully. Meanwhile, Robbie, try as he could was running as fast as he could. However, his partner was getting closer and closer by the minute.

           Robbie loved these games. It just made his soul flutter and get him all riled up and giggly.

           “Nohohohoho! Rohohobbie is no towel!”

           After about another minute of running around, Robbie couldn’t stay balanced and focused enough. He just kept giggling from the chase scene, not to mention the amount of times Google would say “I’m gonna getcha!” Robbie tripped on air and tumbled to the soft floor, curling up in a ball of giggles. Poor zombie boy was already out of breath and tired from all the running he did. Google reeled up behind and found his partner on the floor, being cute as always, but more so now. He sat down, crossing his legs and pulled Robbie to him gently letting Robbie sit in his lap. The former wrapped his arms around the latter’s waist comfortingly as he leaned down and murmured into Robbie’s ear.

           “Hey there Giggles.”

           “H-h-hehehehello Goo.”

           Google then took a moment to bury his face into the crook of Robbie’s neck, nuzzling it affectionally. Problem is, Google has stubble on his face. “I haven’t even done anything to you yet and here you are giggling like a cutie pie without me.” He then snuck his hands ever so carefully under Robbie’s shirt and began to trace his fingers up his sides.

           “EHEEhhehehe! Goo goohohoho! You buhuhuhlly! Robbie isn’t cuhuhuhute! R-rohohohobbie is j-just hahahhappy t-to see you!”

           Robbie let out a small squeal from the sudden contact on his sides. He squirmed a little, but not a lot since he was still exhausted from the chase (yeah let’s go with that, not because he loves it). He just allowed Google to do whatever with him at this point. That is, until he felt one hand on his ribs, gently tapping the bones and in between while Goo’s other hand curled his fingers right on Robbie’s right side.

           “AI HEHEHEHE GOO GOO!”

           Robbie arched his back and writhed. It was a bad spot but Google graced it with his tickly touch. Robbie’s body of course was trying to stop it since his hands at the moment had no control, until he used them to hide his face, blushing a nice violet up to his ears.

           “Yes, my little lee?”

           “D-DON’T S-SAHAHAHHAHAY THAHAHAHAT! R-ROBBIE DOHOHOHN’T LIKE THAHAHAHAHT!”

           Robbie’s legs meanwhile were flailing around adorably. Google adored Robbie with all of his heart, but now wasn’t a time to adore the most precious things in life.

           “Aw, well I don’t think that’s true you little liar. Now, show me that cute little face I love so much.”

           Google purred teasingly as he had both of his carpals trace from where they were, up to Robbie’s underarms and ever so teasingly spidered and scratched at the sensitive hollows. Robbie’s nerves of course got the better of him as he squealed again and pinned his arms down to his sides, effectively trapping Google’s hands. Now the thing about Google being a robot was, he has no thermal core, therefore he is always cold or the temperature of the room.

           “GOOOOOHOHOHOOHOH!”

           “Whatever is it dearest?”

           “COHOHOHOHOHOLD!”

           “Ah yes cold, it appears that these two spiders found a nice warm bunker to stay in until they’re nice and warm. You’re so generous to offer.”

           “BUHUHUHUT GOOHOHOHO SAID UNTIL DRY!”

           “Almost Robbie.”

           Google of course lied, his hands were dry long ago. But what’s that to keep away the fun? Google kept this up for a couple of minutes, eventually slowing down as Robbie deserved it. He eventually stilled his fingers and managed to slide them out with little to no tickles. He reeled his head away from his neck and gave Robbie a kiss on the forehead. Only then is when he got a good look at Robbie.

           Robbie had a couple a tear streaks, but nothing major, and a beautiful, gorgeous plum blush that coated Robbie pure face. It was magical. Google smiled fondly once again and held Robbie in a tight embrace.

“God, why are you so perfect?”

Robbie thought for a moment to answer. He then thought about all the wonderful moments he had with Google. As a friend, as a partner, as his everything. Robbie leaned back and glanced into the aqua eyes that hid behind spectacles and spoke.

“That is because…Robbie has Goo by his side.”

Welp. If Google had a heart it would have exploded at this point. A sky blue hue dusted Google’s cheeks. That answer was just…nope. Google tried to find a word to describe how amazing and beautiful that answer was but he couldn’t. So he just attacked Robbie with kisses on his cheek. After a while of basking in each other’s glory and happiness, Google spoke.

“So, wanna help me with the rest of the dishes?”

“NUH-UH! NOT AFTER WHAT JUST HAPPENED!”

“Aw but baaaaaaaaaaaaaab! How else am I going to dry my hands?”

“…Okay maybe Robbie can help.”

[starvonnie]

Hello! Do you write starrod? If so, harm? You’re awesome by the way :)

So, uh…. this prompt took a hold of me and I hope this answers the “do you write starrod” question because the answer is an emphatic “YES” while I cry because I’m never going to finish my ongoing with these two :’)

Rodimus’ throat burned.  Fire and fury burst forth froma voice box that had just last night whispered sweet nothings.  He shookwith rage.  He spat every horrible thing that crossed his processor 

“Why won’t you fight back?” Rodimus screeched.  He tooka step towards him and Starscream flinched.  His wings sank so low theynearly disappeared behind his back, but he could see the barely contained furyin his optics.  He’d looked into them enough to know.  

More quietly—gently, even—Rodimus said, “I can tell you’remad at me.  Why won’t you fight back?”

More words, angry words, sat on his glossa, waiting to bespewed.  He’d had so much more to say.  They tasted bitter now. Like bile.  And they felt… poisoned, somehow.

“Starscream…” Rodimus reaches out to touch him, and again,he flinched away.  He went so far as to take a step away. “Wait.  Starscream, do you think… I’m… I’m not like him.”

Static crackled around Starscream’s optics when he looked athis conjunx.  He blinked it away.  “You sound like him.”

“I… Starscream, I’m sorry.  I would never lay a handon you.  I’m just mad and…” Again, his attempt to comfort him justpushed him away.  “Okay.  I’m gonna go into the living room and I’mgoing to calm down.  I’ll be there if you want to talk or anythingelse.  And if you need space from me I’ll sleep on the couch.  But Iwant to talk.  Eventually.  Because I get mad.  Which I shouldprobably work on, but… I don’t know I just know that we’re gonna rightsometimes and I don’t want to make you feel like this.”

Starscream didn’t say anything and he didn’t look at him.

“I hope we’re still okay,” Rodimus went on.  “Because Istill love you.  I never stopped.  And I won’t.  And I’m nevergoing to hurt you.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep.”  He sounded likesomeone being strangled while he said this.

“I’m not.”  His instincts wanted him to leave a kiss onStarscream’s cheek and give his hand a comforting squeeze, but he abstained, ashard as it was.  “I’ll be in the living room.  For anything or nothing. Okay?”

He left, his spark in his tank and his tank cramping so thateverything felt tight and so, so wrong.  He regretted everything he’dsaid.  He should have known better.  He’d seen the scars that marredStarscream’s protoform.  For Primus’ sake he’d listened to all thehorrible memories Starscream had told him years after they’d been together. 

They’d fought before but it was always bickering.  Itwas always such inconsequential things that they wouldn’t even remember in themorning.  But this.  This couldn’t be brushed off or ignored.

And what did he know?  He hadn’t been there.  Hedidn’t know what—

No.  No, he was calming down.  He should hear himout.  Had he really even talked about howfucked up this whole thing had made him? Maybe.  They’d shared a lot ofstuff over the years, but really this hadn’t come up.  They danced around this topic as much as theydanced around Starscream’s past relationship with Megatron.  Neither of them wanted to face their demons.

Rodimus didn’t bother to turn on the light as he walked intothe living room.  With the moon prettymuch full, moonlight spilled in through the window and turned everythingsilver.  He kind of wished it was pitch.  He wanted to pretend the world didn’t existfor a while.  That this problem didn’texist.  That their relationship didn’texist, so he didn’t have to worry about losing it.  

He wished he’d never opened his mouth.

He sat down on the couch, awash in the moon’s exposinglight.  He felt on display for the worldon this, frankly, uncomfortable couch. So much of their stupid furniture was for show.  Only what lay in their berth room had beendesigned for comfort.  Their one safespace.  The one Rodimus had defiled withhis harsh words.

Unable to rest, let alone sleep, he stared out of thewindow.  He didn’t look at anything,though.  He just stared out over theunquiet city.  His home.  His only home since the Lost Light.  The home he’dcreated with the mech he’d spent the last while screaming at.

Time passed.  It musthave.  It always did.  No matter how slow it felt, time passed.  It couldn’t be stopped or halted.  It paid no mind to their suffering.  It carried on.  Ceaseless. If only he could hit “pause.” Just for a little bit.  Just untilhe got things back to normal.

He hoped they would get back to normal.

The passage of time revealed itself in making Rodimus’ opticcovers sag with exhaustion.  But as tiredas he was, he couldn’t sleep.  Hewouldn’t sleep until he knew what Starscream had chosen, and really, heshouldn’t choose him.  He was angry, andhe held grudges, and he hated himself so much he couldn’t even bear to returnto the same grounds he’d walked eons ago. Before the war.  Before the Matrixhad touched him.  Before all of hisfuck-ups and mistakes.  The big ones,anyway.  Before he’d been anything morethan another dirty gutter mech.

Rodimus turned his helm when he heard movement, and hecouldn’t stifle his smile when he saw Starscream standing at the end of thehall.  He stayed completely still asStarscream took cautious steps toward the couch.  He even held hisventilation’s as Starscream sat down.  

“Starscream—“ Rodimus bit his glossa and stopped the barbedwords right there.  His fury came too fast.  Too recklessly.  “I can’t go back there.  Even if they rebuilteverything exactly as it was—and they can’t—it won’t be the same.  And Iguess that’s good.  I’m obviously not living in the gutters anymore, but Ijust can’t live there and pretend everything’s okay.  Nyon had to berebuilt because of me.  I just… I can’t.”

“I can’t not go,”Starscream said.  “This project is too important.  This is aboutCybertron, rebuilt after the war.  And… I don’t want to see it withoutyou.”

Rodimus looked down at his hands.  And soon,Starscream’s hand.  Over his.

“I just can’t.”  Rodimus wanted to pull his hands awayfrom Starscream, but after everything that had happened, he knew he had toleave them where they were.

Starscream leaned against him.  “Okay.”

“We’ll figure it out,” Rodimus said.  “It’s notpermanent, right?”

“No.  But it’s not a short stay.  It could be ayear.  Or longer.”

“Oh…”

“Yeah.”  Starscream brought his legs up onto the couchand rested his helm in Rodimus’ lap. “It’s being promoted as a city of unification.  A new place for Autobots and Decepticons toget a new start.  I have to be there torepresent the population.  And especiallyfor ‘reformed’ Decepticons.  It’s allslag, but if I don’t go it will ruin my reputation.”

Rodimus swallowed around the lump in his throat.  “Well, hey, what’s a year, right?”

“I don’t know if I can sleep without you anymore.”

Rodimus’ spark skipped a beat.  Gently, carefully, herested a hand on the side of Starscream’s helm.  “C’mon, Star.  I’mjust a space heater.  We’ll getcha set up with a nice heated berth andyou’ll be asleep before you remember I’m not there.”

Starscream shook his helm.  “How are you this dense?”

Fingers so careful they ghosted along plating, Rodimusstroked his helm.  It felt like someone was sitting on his chest. This all felt way too much like a break-up and he couldn’t handle anotherfailed relationship.  He couldn’t take losing him.

“When was the last time you had a good sleep?” Starscreamasked.  “Since before me.  When was the last time?”

Before Rodimus had much time to think, Starscream said, “Whatabout the Lost Light?  Did you sleep well there?

Rodimus shrugged.  “Pretty well.”

“Well.  I haven’t made it through a night.  Notuntil you started sleeping with me.  I don’t know what it is about you orus but I don’t want to go back to that.”  Starscream laughed a sadlaugh.  “Primus, even now I feel like I could just fall asleep righthere.  And I hate you.  I hate how much I love you.  How much Ineed you.  This is why you never get used to good things.  They neverlast.”

Rodimus curled down over Starscream.  He hugged himawkwardly and he didn’t care.  He just needed to.

“I need you too, okay?” he whispered, barely audible.  “Iliterally have no idea what the frag I’m doing with my life now but I know Iwant you in it.  You’re my constant.  But I just can’t go toNyon.  Or New Nyon or whatever, and I don’t know what to do.”  Hetrembled, scared and confused, wanting to comfort his conjunx, but needingcomfort himself.  Too fucked up with hisown problems to help his conjunx.  Toostubborn to try.  Unable to forgivehimself.  “I just know that I don’t wantto lose you.”

“Then come with me,” Starscream begged.  His hands reached for Rodimus, joining him inthis awkward hug.  “New Nyon is about newstarts for everyone.  You included.”

Rodimus shook his helm. “I’m the exception.  I don’t deserve a new start there.”

“Yes you do you idiot.”  He said this affectionately, with pain thickin his voice.  

He just kept shaking his helm, whispering, “No, no, no, no…”

“You did what you had to,” Starscream tried to reason withhim.  “What else could you have done?”

Rodimus said nothing. He just hugged him even tighter.

Starscream nudged him. “Sit up.”

And he did, after his initial resistance.  He still clung to Starscream, and thankfullyit didn’t seem like he wanted to pull away.

Starscream’s mouth now near his audial, he said, “I know youdon’t want to talk about what happened. I only know second-hand what happened that day.  But Rodimus, what you did was notmalicious.  I asked you to join theDecepticons because I believed you understood what we stood for.  At least what we stood for in thebeginning.  Now…”

“Please stop,” Rodimus begged pitifully.

“Fine.  Then I’ll askyou this instead.”  He pushed Rodimusaway, and it had to be a rough shove given how tight Rodimus was holding ontohim.  He kept a hold of his shoulders,though.  So that Rodimus had to look himin the optic.  “Do you still see me asthe Decepticon I was?”

Rodimus blinked a lot and averted his gaze.  “What kind of—of course I don’t!”

“Look at me,” Starscream demanded.  “In the optic.  Say it again.”

He did, after some difficulty.  Forcing the shakiness from his voice, hesaid, “I don’t see you as a Decepticon.”

“So.  Your opinion ofme has changed?”

Rodimus nodded.

“And you’d say I’m a better person?”  He smirked a little.  “At least mildly better?”

Rodimus couldn’t help a small smile of his own.  “You’re still an aft, but you want what’sbest for our kind.  If that’s what youmean.”

“So I’ve changed?  Forthe better.”

Rodimus nodded.

“And you can’t think that about yourself, why?”

Rodimus shook him off. “It’s not the same.  I’m notasking you to face your past mistakes. I’m not rubbing your face in them.”

“You could argue I’m part of the reason for why the rest ofour planet needs to be rebuilt.”

“Yeah, well, the NAILs will argue that we both fragged up the planet.  They see us both as terrible people.”

“Rodimus.”  Starscreamsighed.  “I get this is important to you,or a big part of your life, or—”

“My biggest failing as a bot.”

Starscream rolled his optics, but combatted the harshnesswith a gentle caress to Rodimus’ cheek. “People don’t remember that you did this.  There aren’t banners or plaques or whatever inNew Nyon telling people what you did.  Ican’t say no one remembers, but everyone who does doesn’t blame you.  They know whyyou did it.  You made a difficultdecision that no one else wanted to make. You weren’t the one who put everyone in that situation.  And I know you would have saved them if youcould.  I’m gonna be blunt here, Rodimus:this isn’t about you.”

“Shut up.”

“No, I—”

“Shut up!”  Rodimus shoved him away, and Starscreamflinched even further, and now they were on opposite ends of the couch, rightwhere they’d started.  Guilt floodedRodimus’ frame as quickly as the anger had.

Starscream stood. “Fine.  Maybe it’s good that thisends.”

“Wait.  Please, I’msorry.”  Rodimus pressed the balls of hishands against his optics.  He couldn’tbear to check if Starscream stayed or not.

“You won’t even try,”Starscream said, and Rodimus stifled a sigh of relief after hearing hisvoice.  “I don’t want to go.  I don’t want to have to force you to go.  I can’t, obviously, but I’m not going tojuggle you around everything else.  Ifyou’re living with me, that’s different.”

“Come back,” Rodimus begged. “Please.”  He let his hands fallinto his lap.  “I’m not going to hurtyou.  I won’t.”

“I know.  That’s notthe problem.”

“But—”

“Why should I come back, hm? Because the way I see it, this is an ultimatum.  You either come with me and we stay together,or you can stay here, and you can have the apartment.  I’ll keep paying for it.  I don’t do long-distance.  So. I’m not going to drag this out for as many days as we have left if youwon’t come with me.  If you will…”  His voice softened.  “If you’ll try.  You haven’t even seenthe city.  It’s beautiful, Rodimus.  But if you try.  Then.  Then I’ll come back.  But I know now.  Your problems are not my fault, and I’m notabout to let someone else take out their aggression on me.”

“Please, I’m sorry, I—”

“And I’m not going to let you guilt me back, either.  Allyou have to do is tell me you’ll try, and then you fragging try.  I’m not asking for much.”

“You’re asking for everything.”

Starscream scoffed.  “We’veall had to deal with stuff we’d rather not deal with after the war.  You’re not special.  You just shove it down until you don’t haveto think about it anymore and then you act like it doesn’t bother you.  But it does.  If it didn’t, you’d have no problem comingwith me.  And really, Rodimus, you coulduse this as an opportunity to held rebuild Nyon.  Of course it won’t be the same.  Nothing’s ever going to be like it was.  You have to accept that.”

Rodimus kept quiet, hanging his helm.  

“You don’t have the luxury to feel bad about yourselfanymore,” Starscream continued.  “I’mbeing harsh because being nice has gotten me nowhere with you.  Come, or don’t.  Just make the damn decision.”

Rodimus could hear the hurt in Starscream’s voice.  How “don’t” strained on the way out.  He noticed how tightly he held his field tohis frame, and it was especially jarring after all these years of being in thethick of it.  After he’d coaxed it out,of course.  It had taken a lot of timefor Starscream to tell him anything even remotely personal.

“I wouldn’t ask you to, like, move in with Megatron,” Rodimuscountered weakly.  And regretfully.  He regretted the words before he’d evenfinished saying them.

“Mm hm.  Well, I’m notasking you to blow the damn thing up again, now am I?”

Rodimus hugged himself. “Sorry.  I know it’s not reallythe same.  I just… it’s hard.”

“I know.”  Compassionfound home in Starscream’s tone.  “I knowit’s not an easy thing to come to terms with, but neither is breaking up.  At least, I hope it isn’t.  For you.”

He shook his helm. “No.  It’s not.  I love you too much to just walk away.  I mean, we built a life here.  And it’s good.  It’s so good. I don’t want to lose that.”

After a brief silence, Starscream returned to the couch.  He didn’t try to reach out for his conjunx.  “What we have here,” he pointed to his spark,“we’ll have no matter where we are.  AndNew Nyon isn’t forever.  It doesn’t haveto be.  Once the city’s settled andeverything’s in place, we can go somewhere else.  Though I’m hoping you can find home again—anew home—there.  I bet I can even set youup with a job where you’ll help to protect the city, and the peace.  Primus knows we’ll need bots for that.  And if it doesn’t work, you can always comeback here.”  Finally, he touchedRodimus.  A gentle hand resting on hisarm.  “We’ll figure this out.  Together.”

“Stop being nice to me. I don’t deserve it.”

“We get a lot of things we don’t deserve,” Starscreamsaid.  “Be thankful this thing’s nice.”

With his helm hanging, Rodimus turned until it just touchedStarscream’s shoulder.  “Okay.  I’ll try.”

Starscream lifted Rodimus’ chin and pressed a kiss to hisforehelm.  “That’s all I’m asking.  And for you to keep me warm at night.”

Rodimus pulled Starscream against him and tucked his helminto the crook of his neck.  “Andsafe.  I’m supposed to protect you.  Not make you afraid of me.  I’m gonna work on my anger, okay?  I’m not gonna be like him.”

Starscream’s gentle chuckle tickled Rodimus.  “I don’t need protection.”

“Well, I’m gonna do it anyways.”  He kissed the side of Starscream’s helm.  “Cause I love ya.”

“Idiot.”  Starscreamnuzzled closer.  “I love you, too.”

[thepelagoislands]

Secret Santa - For Ford!

(This is for Ford-mun! A sweet series of drabbles featuring Ford/Holly. I hope you enjoy!)

There is something chemical about Ford’s reaction to Holly that warms him every time he looks at her. He can’t logically pick apart why. Whether it’s the pheromones she gives off – affectionate and loyal and strong – or the basic primal reaction to a smile – like the one she never stops wearing – he can’t stop being so touched by her, no matter how hard he tries.

“Ford!” Holly bursts into the clinic in the middle of his musings. He looks up from his chemistry table, brow quirked, lips in a thin line. “C’mere! I’ve got something to show you!”

She always has something to show him, and, much as he always suspected it would be, it’s never been a waste of his time. “I…there is some experimentation I’ve been doing-”

“Please?” She pouts at him. Before her, he’d never seen that expression on anyone but a child. Maybe that is why he continues to have a positive reaction to it – because of his constant associations with paternal instinct, as all humans appear to have. “It’ll just take a second.”

There is no reason why he can’t stop what he’s doing at the moment. He’s mainly in the hypothesis-writing stages of his experimentation. There is nothing burning, nothing mixing, nothing he must attend: only the satisfaction of spreading ink over paper.

It’s inevitable. He adjusts his glasses and follows after her with a sigh.

The second he steps outside of the clinic, alarm explodes in his chest as something smacks the door frame. “Goddess!”

“Think fast!” Holly’s voice brims with giggles.

It was a ball of snow that struck the frame. Ford stares blankly at the uneven snow remnants on the ground; they ruin the perfect symmetry previously there. “Excuse me?”

Holly rears her arm back, and he sees another ball of snow in her hand. “Better run! I’m gonna getcha!”

How peculiar. “Are you…ah…” Ford frowns. “What are you doing?”

Holly stares for a long moment. She deflates. “Snowball fight!”

He blinks.

“It’s fun!”

Blinks again. “Fun. You strike people with…what did you call them, snowballs? And you find that amusing?”

Holly walks toward him, holding the ball of snow out to him. “Yeah, two people throw these at each other, and they run and hide for cover, and it’s…it’s a good time?”

Ford looks at her shrewdly. “You are aware that this is nearly a guaranteed way to catch hypothermia, correct? What if snow ended up sliding past my collar? Down my shirt or jacket? Two people fighting such a war here outside in a tremendously cold climate-”

“Ford.” Holly grins. “You’re thinking too hard. Just…here, just try it.”

She takes his hand. Neither of their hands are gloved any more than the thin fabric he always wears. The mere brush of her calloused fingers – hard from work – against the smoothness of the material is jarring. He’s still staring at her when she presses the freezing cold snowball into his hand.

Only when he realizes they’re still touching does he drop the ball. “I should get back to work. Try…perhaps one of the children for your little games.”

He tells himself not to notice the way her face falls right before he shuts the door behind him.

~~

Just the sound of her voice is enough to stir his heartrate – to make it beat just fast enough for him to acknowledge it. He’s dreamed of that voice before many times. Each time he consults his psychology textbooks, and each time he comes up confused and wanting. He’d dreamed of it just last night, in fact: the placation in her voice as she begged for him to fight her with snowballs.

He thinks of it still as he drinks tea that evening, staring into his fireplace.

Initially, when he hears the unmistakeable sound of her timbre, he thinks he must be hallucinating. He sniffs his tea – it’s entirely possible that he accidentally doctored it with a hallucinogenic sugar compound that he’s worked on to unlock repressed memories – but no, there is nothing about the aroma or the taste to suggest that her voice isn’t real.

It’s distant, though. Faint. And…lilting.

It takes Ford a long moment to realize that she’s singing.

He comes to his front door and touches his ear to the wood. Yes, she’s right outside, it seems. He opens it.

She’s dressed warmly, her hands shoved inside of a furry muff, beaming out at him from under a scarf and a hat and a thick wooly coat. At least she’s appropriately dressed for the season, even if she’s spending it singing outside in the darkness, barely lit by the lamps near his clinic.

He lets her finish the song, because it would be rude to do otherwise, and when she ends the verse, her eyes sparkling at him like snowflakes, he blinks. “Good evening.”

“Hey there, Ford.” She pulls her hand out of her muff to scratch her nose. “Did you like the song?”

It was something about bells ringing and snow falling. He hadn’t even been listening to the words – he’d been too focused on her tone. “…it was an adequate representation of the season.” He clears his throat. “Do you need medical attention? Is that why you’re here?”

Holly looks down, her boots nudging through the snow. “No, I, uh, I just…thought you might like to hear some carols. ‘Tis the season!”

“I see.” He crosses his arms over his chest. “I am aware of the caroling tradition, but I didn’t know people here took to it. I think it’s perfectly illogical. The human must strain for their voice to carry across the snow, especially if there are sharp winds – it’s too easy to do potential damage.” He shakes his head. Throughout his statement, Holly looks down more and more, until he can barely see her face at all under her hat’s brim. “Who else have you sung for?”

Silence. There’s silence as thick as the snow she stands on. “…no one. Just you.”

How odd. “I hope you’ll remember to go home soon before you catch too much cold. Perhaps you should come in for tea-”

“No!” Holly looks up at him and flashes a smile. “No, I-I’ll just go home, you’re right. I’m sorry I disturbed you!” She begins walking away without even a goodbye – rare for someone like her who seems to be particularly well socialized. He’s surprised enough by it to simply watch her go.

She stops, however, and turns around, her eyes sparkling again. “Maybe next time you’ll sing with me, huh?”

Ford frowns. “I do not have a very good voice, myself. I would ruin the appeal of yours.”

“You think I have a good voice?”

She’s breathless when she says it. The cold has gotten to her worse than he feared. He inclines his head. “You maintain a good tone. Minimal vibrato. Enough breath to finish the stanzas properly without having to breathe in the middle of the phrase. It is an adequate performance.”

Holly grins at him so widely that he swears he can see almost every one of her teeth – a pity that he isn’t a dentist. “Thank you, Ford.” She backs up two steps. “Have a good night, okay?”

“It seems likely that I will.”

He watches her go until she disappears from view. He isn’t sure why.

~~

Her laugh is the exact representation of what joy should be. If a scientist could draw a map and point at the frequency levels that one must react in order to have the perfect human laugh, Ford is certain that hers would touch every threshold.

He knows this, because as she laughs while she’s enjoying a lunch with him the next afternoon, his skin tingles pleasantly. The body understands the proper levels of Hertz. His is no exception.

“I simply cannot understand the song,” Ford is saying over her laugh. “It is a- please don’t lean back in your chair so far, Holly, you are going to fall.”

“I can’t help it!” Her cheeks are tinted pink. Perhaps he has the heater on a bit too warmly. “It’s just a song, Ford. He sees you when you’re sleeping! He-”

“That’s precisely what I mean!” He gestures with his fork as he talks, swept up in his own thoughts. “He cannot see me when I’m sleeping! My bedroom is on the second level. All of my curtains are drawn shut. My door is locked three times downstairs, and there is no other way inside.” He pauses. “Also, he isn’t real.”

“Ford!” Holly rests her elbows on the table, shining brighter than the single string of Christmas lights he allowed her to put up when she stopped by earlier, clearly exhausted from her farming work. “Songs don’t have to be logical, y’know.”

“…that’s…that’s absurd. Everything is rooted in logic.”

“Everything?” She tilts her head to the side.

“Everything!”

“What about…” Holly taps her bottom lip with her index finger – a nasty act, given how much bacteria could be on her hand, and that is the entire reason he can’t stop staring, he’s sure. “…matters of the heart?”

Ford considers his own heart. “The heart operates under logical circumstances. Medical professionals already understand the way the valves work.”

“No!” She laughs again, and his heart rate rises. “I mean, like, crushes! Love! Affection!”

The way she stares at him gives him pause. She blinks rapidly, long eyelashes dark against her skin. She bites her bottom lip.

While he’s watching, she sucks it into her mouth, and he immediately looks back down at his food, trying to remember what they had been talking about. “…well. I don’t see what any of that has to do with this harmful myth of Santa Claus.”

Holly chuckles again – but it’s warmer this time, and lower, like melting sugar – and though it isn’t the perfect example of a laugh that he heard before, he still finds himself fixated. Strange.

~~

Her name melts on his tongue sweetly every time that he says it. As strict of a regimented diet as Ford follows, he rarely lets himself indulge with more than a spoonful of sugar in tea. Her name gives him the same sensation – as if he should say it as little as possible, lest it fill him up until he bursts.

“Holly,” he murmurs, shaking his head. “I already have a calendar for December. You didn’t need to-”

“No, this one’s special!” Holly lays it on the table. “See! It has little presents on every day of December, and they’re all…” She fiddles with one of the boxes on the calendar until a piece of chocolate pops out. “…holding sweets.”

“Sweets.” Ford crosses his arms over his chest. “Ah.”

“They’re good! Have one.”

“I don’t think so.”

“Ford!” She drops her arms to her side, and yes, there’s the pout again – he was waiting for it. “Please? For me?”

“I don’t like sweets.” He lifts his chin, looking down his nose at her. “They rot the teeth. Too many calories.”

“But this one is dark chocolate.”

He quirks a brow.

“It’s…good for you.” Holly holds it out. “And it’s not as sweet. Bitter. Bitter as dirt.”

“Why would I want to eat dirt?”

Holly laughs and approaches him, as slowly as if she was a predator coming close to something she did not wish to harm. His skin tingles the closer that she gets, goosebumps dusting over his flesh. And when she holds the chocolate out, coming up on her tiptoes, letting her fingers hover just in front of his lips, he feels the irresistible urge to eat it from her hand.

And then he remembers precisely how many germs are on her hands. Warmth kisses his cheeks as he takes the chocolate from her, inspects it, and then heaves a sigh as he tastes it.

He stares at her excited face as he chews, considering, then swallows. “…I suppose dark chocolate in moderation can have certain health benefits.”

“Yay!” She claps her hands together, hopping up and down, then hurries back to the calendar. “That’s great that you said that, because we’re twenty days behind! We’ve got a lot to eat.”

“What part of moderation don’t you understand?”

She peeks over her shoulder and winks, and his cheeks go even hotter. Flushed. Perhaps he has a cold.

~~

Winter has never been so warm without her before. He doubts it will ever be the same again if she leaves. Though Ford does not consider himself a selfish man, knowing that she is near – that she will stop by two or three times a week – has given him a sense of routine that he rarely used to have before, something that he would never wish to change again if he could help it. And seeing her – every bit of her, from head to toe, dressed in her warmest garb – fills him with more heat than a fire ever could.

Not even the fireplace at Brad and Carrie’s Christmas party.

She lingers in a doorway as he approaches, smiling at him. He has no words to say to her. He has no concept of why he even comes closer. But he hasn’t spoken to her the entire evening, and that seems cruel.

Even if she DIDN’T have this maddening magnetism that he can’t repel, he still wouldn’t be able to tear himself away.

“You look well,” he said as he pauses across from her. “Healthy.”

Holly beams at him. She looks upward. So does he.

There is a sprig of a plant hanging there, one that he recognizes immediately, and his eyes widen in shock. “Why on earth are they displaying a poisonous herb here?” Would it be easy to remove it before it fell and caused anyone harm? What if a child somehow got a hold of it? He touches his chest, hands gloved and ready for removing the mistletoe overhead.

Holly touches his chest too.

Ford looks down, eyes widening, as she comes up on her tiptoes and gently tugs him down a few inches with her hands in his lapel. She kisses him, as vibrantly warm as the air around her.

Chaste as it is, his heart pounds through his ribs, and he pulls back to take a breath. “What…what was that?”

“Mistletoe,” she murmurs back, smiling so widely that the edges of her eyes crinkle. “Why? Do you not like kissing me, Ford?”

He stammers, opening and closing his mouth like a fish. “W-well, I would say that the, ah, the endorphins from such a kiss are…are positive examples of-”

She shakes her head with a laugh as she guides him back down.

When he touches her cheek with his trembling hand, tilting his head to deepen the kiss, she floods him with a fervent heat that wraps right around his heart.

He’ll never know the cold again.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

Ready

Requested by @heartlesswitch with the prompt, “There are some things I need to say and you should hear me out.”

“I’ll go,” you spoke quietly from the back of the room. You walked up to the table and placed a finger on the tattered map, “I know the area. I’ll be in and out in no time, they won’t see me.”

“Are you sure?” Rick looked at you, searching for any hesitation. “You don’t have to do this, someone else can go.”

Your eyes scanned the faces around you, landing on the hard expression gracing Daryl’s face. He was biting down on his nail, eyes fixated on the map. He finally dragged his eyes up to you and shook his head, “She ain’t going.”

Everyone stood silently but your head snapped to Rick. “I know this place inside and out. I managed before I met you all, I can and will do this.”

You grabbed the machete off the table and waited for another objection, but Daryl just huffed out a breath and left the room. Rick’s eyes followed Daryl out the door before he turned back to you.

“We can’t risk sending more than two people, someone can go with you. But in and out, you hear me?”

“Loud and clear, “ you sighed and headed out the room.

You stood in your cell, packing a backpack for the trip. The plan was to take a car with Glenn, head over to the small town a few miles away and try to salvage supplies, specifically medication.

“You gonna get yourself killed,” Daryl leaned against the cell door, hands folded across his firm chest.

“Well, our people need medicine. Don’t really have a damn choice, do I?”

He snorted sarcastically and watched you zip up the green backpack. “Who's going with you?”

“Glenn,” you replied turning to face him.

“I’ll go with him instead, you stay here.”

“What the fuck, Daryl,” you threw a hand in the air in defeat. “I can handle myself, why the hell do you even care?”

 The question came out in a hushed whisper, because you weren’t sure if the answer would be what you wanted to hear.

It was then that Daryl’s composure tensed, his eyes darted away from your gaze.

Oh, you thought. Was it even possible that the archer felt an ounce of what you felt for him? For the longest time, you thought Daryl was off limits. He was so guarded, it almost seemed not worth it. But then he’d have these soft moments with you, when his wall came down. Like now.

“I gotta go help Rick,” he mumbled out turning to leave the cell, but your hard flew to his shoulder, pulling him back.

“Daryl, there are some things I need to say and you should hear me out,” you explained quietly. He shifted his body back to you and his blue eyes met yours for a second before looking away.

“There are so many reasons why I’m going out there, I know it’s dangerous. Come on,” you smirked trying to lighten the mood. “We’ve been through it all together, I know what I’m up against. But our people need medicine, I can’t lose anyone else.”

“I getcha,” Daryl replied tightly.

“I know you do, but you need to know that I’m going to try my best to get back. I’m going to fight my way back if I have to. I have so many reasons driving me to come back in one piece. And,” you paused to clear your throat, to convince yourself to just say it. What could it hurt, right?

You slowly placed a your right hand on his bare forearm, his eyes lifted from the ground to you. Heart pounding away, you took a deep breath and finally spoke. “And you are one of them. Hell, you’re the main reason. I want to come back to you, Daryl.”

“You all set?” Rick touched your shoulder, a look of concern in his eyes.

You returned the affectionate gesture and smiled, “We’re good. We’ll be back in no time and in one piece.”

Rick’s eyes flickered to the motorcycle and the man straddling it, “Glenn’s not going?”

“I’m going with the right person, don’t worry boss,” you smacked Rick in the chest and waved him off. Jogging toward the bike, Daryl gave you a soft smile.

“Ready or what?”

You settled behind him, slipping your arms around his waist. “I’ve been ready.”

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