#it was meant to be a doodle just for me but then i thought nah we all need a supportive Tony in our lives

[syrupbitee]

this is so ass im so sorry

[niko-ur-local-moron]

Last doodle of Tony this year

He's proud of yall for making it through 2023 and he hopes y'all keep on going 👍

[afreakingdork]

Writing Request - Reader x Josh (Until Dawn) Body Shots🫗

Y'all thought I only did rottmnt? Nah, and @mermmarie tapped me for some reader x Josh Washington body shot goodness! We're in the last day, people! I might not get too man more of these done but encourage your friends to vote!

From now until the poll closes, if you can prove to me that you voted Hassan/Mikey in this poll then I will do any short story writing request like the one below or draw you any doodle of your choosing!

ᴰᶦˢᶜˡᵃᶦᵐᵉʳ: ᴵ ᵃᵐ ⁿᵒᵗ ᶦⁿ ᵃⁿʸʷᵃʸ ᵃˢˢᵒᶜᶦᵃᵗᵉᵈ ᵒʳ ᵉⁿᵈᵒʳˢᵉᵈ ᵇʸ ᵗʰᵉ ᶜᵒᵐᵖᵉᵗᶦᵗᶦᵒⁿ ᵒʳ ᶦᵗˢ ᶜᵒⁿᵗᵉˢᵗᵃⁿᵗˢ.

We got a little mature content down below, but not explicit! Enjoy~

The party was in full swing. The house was bursting at the seams with people and every step had to be taken by the side. You squirmed past others, not bothering with apologies and only trying to find a sliver of enjoyment in a sea of decadence. The Washington's had always been known for their ragers, but hearing tale and seeing them in person was something else.

You needed a drink.

You were trying your best to get one, but you kept getting boxed out. Between the multi-room mansion and the throngs of people, you were just about done with getting shoved. A crack opened up between two people making out and you made a dash for it. They stumbled for inebriation and made waves which resulted in a parted sea. It was a clean trip to an embarrassingly large kitchen and a drink selection that would make a bar jealous.

You held your cup close and the liquid went down sweet with the mixture with a satisfying burn on the back end. It was perfect in knowing exactly how much intake you were getting and you mingled as your body loosened. A song you liked came on and you swayed with its motion. The thump settled into your brain and its bass took your body.

It helped you slip into a satisfied trance and forget that your friends had dipped last minute. In any other scenario you might not have gone alone, but you had spent all that time getting ready. Fuck it, you thought, you looked too good to waste it on another night at home so you'd gone out.

You would be careful enough, you long decided. Your drink was never out of sight and if it did, they had more than enough liquor for you to pour another. You had nothing on you to pinch beside your phone and that was safely tucked away in a place that you would know in an instant if anyone was copping a feel.

Such a thing was happening now as someone ground against your ass in rhythm and you lolled your head back in time to see who it was. A mediocre man was a little too bold behind you, but you supposed that was to be expected. It was always those guys who had just enough to their facial structure that sloppily thought they could reach above their standards.

This was the main fare of the party, the average masses. You danced with him before you felt his hand ghost over your arm. It felt a little more leading and you thought he might grab your and to finally face you, but instead he shot away. The warning signs went off in your mind and you clearly saw your cup blocking the way. With a dreary glance you knew that meant it was time to dump it and left whoever behind to go refresh your beverage.

Someone screamed out something about a chance of hail and there was a shattering. You looked up where you were pouring a bottle and could sort of see out of a kitchen window through overly floral curtains. Outside some boys had proudly torn their shirts off and were just as busy peacocking as they slammed back shots. It was entertaining enough and you sipped as you headed out there.

You watched on with some amusement as a violent game had been concocted. You never did figure out whatever rules they had set, but the clear goal was drinking and then hucking the small glass receptacles as hard as possible at some gaudy sculpture. It was a movie set piece, you vaguely knew, from the Washington's dad, that had taken root in the garden with a few other ugly pieces.

"Where's Josh!? He's got the arm! He could hit peak, I know it!"

"Yeah, man!"

"Where's our Party Poobah?!"

"What the fuck!?"

There was good natured ribbing and you concealed your mouth as you turned away from the games.

Josh.

It wasn't like you expected to see the man of the hour. He was legendary for hosting these parties, but he was just that. He was there for the purpose of getting lost in himself. The action was where he was and everything around that was a merry hurricane. He was the epicenter and since he attracted only level five events, he was an anomaly.

You wouldn't just be lucky to see him, it would be some kind of miracle.

It was about on par as getting into a VIP section. Skinny girls with pale skin were guaranteed access and that alone bored you. Men's picks for stereotypical hot chicks as about on par with the audacity of the large swathe of average guys. It was all an exhausting back and forth game of mediocrity that you would have no part of.

"Move aside! We're on a mission!"

That was Josh.

With your arm crossed to more comfortably hold your cup, your head rose high.

Speak of the devil and he doth appear, you amused yourself as you tried to place which direction he was. The music just swallowed up noise enough that it happened to throw voices. It filled in space you might have hoped to delineate, but said man had the power to conjure storms.

"This is the party police!" Josh came in with sharp eyes and a face splitting grin. "Prepare to be strip searched!!"

He was flanked by lackeys that weren't Chris, but you doubted the other man was far behind. The others weren't so easy to manipulate into Josh's little schemes and you watched as he, the boss among, them signaled them to fan out in a military manner.

They took on the role of dogs, something you had a feeling Josh had told them to do beforehand, and you watched them howl. They then fanned out, sniffing up skirts and startling men with a sharp gab to their asses. All manner of reaction was had, but when a man on all fours snuffed his way up to you, you looked down at him with enough disdain that he moved on with his tale between his legs.

"Idiots." You heard Josh say in a voice that almost seemed like he hadn't meant it.

You looked up and found him staring squarely at you.

Your gaze grew dull as he must have meant that insult for you.

There was a flash of attention in his eye before he surged forward.

"They say you can't teach old dogs, but I think that's true of all animals!"

You almost looked behind you because if he was talking to you, you weren't sure what he meant.

"Humans too." He came squarely up to you. "Don't mind them, beautiful. I've been running around looking for you all night."

"Me?" You asked him with a tip of your cup.

"Oh yeah!" He grinned with something that had a malevolently edge.

Confused signals failed to spark in your mind as he circled you.

"I mean..." He was behind you. "... look..." He came around your side with a slink. "... you..."

It oozed palpable desire and your skin lit even though he hadn't touched you.

"Gorgeous. Supple. I need you. I've been looking for candidates."

Your guard went up. "Candidates?"

"Yep." He swept up from your body and leveled with your eyes. "I'm scouting. Needed a ringer. Be mine?"

There was a boyish tilt to his last question that straddled the line between his devious nature and honest begging.

Your stomach bubbled and you shifted your hips to quell it.

Josh watched on like he picked up every micromovement. "I wouldn't just say this. I've searched the whole party. You're the one."

The whole party.

There were hundreds of girls here.

You?

It was flattering, but you still weren't sure what you were signing up for.

"And what exactly is this for...?" You lowered your cup.

Josh positively beamed. "You're the perfect glass."

Your mouth rounded out in confusion and you were about to ask when he caught your wrist.

Your hand shot up like a flag. "I've got mine!!! Let's do this!!"

"Finally!"

"Let's go!!"

"Hell yeah!!"

"Shots! Shots!"

Before you could do anything else, you were being ushered through the house. Not quite carried, your feet only hit the ground once every few steps as the mob steered you. The only constant was Josh's cuff around your wrist and besides that was the roving pack of men that puffed like slobbering sled dogs.

You were soon in a room with four massage tables set up and for the first time, you got enough ground to snap back on your tether.

"What the fuck!?"

"No, baby shh...!" Josh came around you with cautious hands. "Just look. Look!"

He moved so you could peer around him and watched as three men broke from the pack. They escorted girls of their choosing in different manners. One took one gentlemanly by the hand while another hoisted a squealing girl up in his arms. All their destinations were the tables though and they each laid down with smiles plastered to their faces. They men tended to them with hungry eyes and you watched as each of them rolled their shirts up to expose their stomachs.

"We're having a little competition." Josh said as he also surveyed the scene. "Drunkest wins."

"No, thanks." You responded instantly.

"Not you." He gave you only his profile. "Unless you wanna...?"

Your cup had disappeared in transit and you cocked a hip at him.

"Alright, alright!" He held his hands up defeated and addressed you. "I'll explain."

You cocked a brow.

"Body shots."

Both words popped off his lips and pounded in your ears.

"You see them..." He came around you like sharing a secret and used the arm over your shoulders to point at the others. "They're the idiots. They don't care about the competition. They don't even care about getting drink. They picked all these twigs and for what? You can't hold liquor in that! I'm here to party and I'm here to drink. Make sense?"

You meant to think with reason, but you saw one thing.

Josh's tongue.

Ever since he'd uttered the phrase, you had been watching it.

It rolled around his mouth.

It caressed every letter.

It tongued every nook.

Every cranny.

It was going to run over you.

The superseded reason and you held out for one last complaint. "Typical. You just want me for my body."

He recited your name so clearly that it almost seemed like he tapped some nefarious database.

You gaped at him.

"Partly true. That body is banging." His eyes dip purposefully before re-locking onto yours as he continues. "But believe me, I made sure you were invited. I'm sorry your friends couldn't make it."

It felt like there were a hundred things wrong with that statement, but the way he looked at you, like you were the only being in the world for him, shot straight to your core.

You belly button.

Where he was going to jam his tongue.

"Fine." You managed to make it seem just blasé enough.

"Excellent." He was all teeth and for a moment you feared you'd be devoured.

Instead he took your hand in a firm grip and lead you to the table. In his own fashion and unlike the others, he didn't try to force you. He stood beside and bowed for you to take the table like this was your competition to win. It made you feel all the more important as you hopped up.

He pressed along side you and his eyes never left yours as you wriggled to get comfortable on the firm table. You got as settled as you could before you went for your shirt. There was chatter all around and you thought Josh might ogle you, but he kept his gaze nothing but reassuring. He quirked a brow when you were settled and ready before he brought his head up to announce the rules.

There was a designated pourer who would come around so no one could cheat drinks. They alcohol would flow as necessary until someone tapped out or if the liquid ran out of bounds. That meant not getting slurped up before it leaked off someone's body and with that Chris walked through with a bottle held high in demonstration.

Cheers and bets were placed behind you, but Josh gave you his eyes again. "Just you and me, gorgeous."

You lowered your lashes at the all too obvious flirt and it only made him smile wider.

The competition commenced.

You couldn't really see the other tables, but you heard a loud sucking along with a girl giggling out of her mind. The next person went and the guy complained for both his girl to suck it in which earned him ire. He demanded Chris pour more, but the guy only approached you with his bottle tipped.

"Ready?"

"Always, Cochise."

Chris poured the shot into your belly button.

It pooled up and with a healthy glug and you tried not to shiver at how the room temperature drink chilled straight through your body. A little streaked through the folds in your stomach and Josh shot forward with his tongue extended. It scraped wet and warm over your skin before teasing around your center. He flicked his gaze up, making hard eye contact before his tongue retracted and his lips puckered. With the expertise of someone who had clearly done one too many hands free shots, he drank you dry.

Your stomach flipped, but he wasn't done. He circled his tongue as a moat around your belly button and licked inward for the sake of it. it spoke of what else he could do with the appendage and you arched a little off the table. He kissed down into your soft belly to ease you and you vaguely heard Chris come around again.

"That's one out!"

You blinked as you hadn't heard any dissent.

To your immediate right, the girl and guy there were fighting about how she hadn't told him she had an outie.

More booze was poured into you in your distraction and you squeaked at the chance it would be lost. Josh swept wide, drinking in your skin and catching both sides of leakage in an expert arch. Your lips crinkled a squiggled line and he lifted up with shining lips. "Doing alright there?"

"Fine. Totally fine." You hiccuped.

"Very fine." He lobbed back.

Your head flew back to the table and you heard him chuckle in a way that sounded like it was all around you.

"We're down to two!"

You didn't bother looking.

Josh had found your hand beside the table and squeezed it as he readied himself.

It was just a little mortifying, as if you needed to be soothed, but he refused to let go as Chris appeared once again.

"Bottom's up!" The glasses-clad man chuckled.

"To the top, my good man!" Josh cheered.

"You sure? The other's spilled that way" Chris glanced at his best friend.

"Oh, she can handle it." Josh looked at you.

You believed him.

Flat out, without question.

You were stupid and you liked it.

You readied your stomach in your best flex and Chris poured.

You felt yourself fill and the bare arch you were doing pushed your breasts further into the sides of your cups. The weight held heavy and parted so you had the best view for the moment your stomach overflowed and Josh dove in.

With unsightly slurps, his tongue darted fast and he sucked with all his might. He caught your skin up into his mouth in puckered moments that didn't linger because there was more booze to drink. It spilled a messy burn around your belly and he was apt to lick the plate clean even while it soaked his face.

A single drop escaped down a fold.

"Josh!" You gasped.

He was at the pinnacle of the cup and looked up at you under his euphoric lids.

The drip tickled your side before it disappeared onto the table.

"That's out!" Someone called.

An upset tore through the crowd.

Josh lazily finished his drink and you felt heat pulsing straight down your body.

When he finally came up, it wasn't to accept silver, he had only gold in his eyes.

The winner was celebrated, but Josh tucked closer into you. "You know... I feel like I've only gotten a taste..."

You held out for a single second before matching his darkened gaze. "Get ready to drink up then."

[elsweetheart]

best friend dina, teaching gf ellie, how to help when your overstimulated!!

omg. that’s so sososososos cute (fem reader)

“i dunno, i feel like — i don’t know. like i’m not doing enough to help her. sometimes things happen, or things get too loud or she gets too hot or cold and she just… shuts down. she gets all panicked and i feel so fuckin’ helpless. she looks all lost and scared and small and she’s looking to me to help her, but i… don’t know how.” ellie ranted, sat wearing an old dirty white tank top and her jeans leaning against the wall, her elbows resting on her knees. dina sat curled up in her seat where she’d been reading previously before her best friend ellie had interrupted to come and hang out.

• “well, atleast it’s clear she really trusts you. i mean it seems like a suuuper vulnerable place to be in.” dina sat forward, invested. she adjusted her ponytail, feeling hot from the summer heat that had crept in.

• “yeah, joel helped her out once when i wasn’t there. said she was over…overwhelmed? nah that wasn’t it.” ellie thought, picking at her lip wracking her memory.

• “overstimulated.” dina clarified, the tone in her voice indicating that this had given her some kind of realisation over the situation. “oh, poor thing. she is quite emotional huh, i’ve seen her get pretty worked up. yeah that makes so much sense.” dina pouted sympathetically touching her chest making ellie frown curiously.

• dina explained what it meant, ellie nodding along feeling like she should be taking notes.

• “you just need to comfort her, el. but be… mindful of what she needs in that moment. ask her.” she advised and ellie stood up, dusting off her pants and stretching her legs.

• “yeah, okay. shit — i’d be totally lost without you D, i’ll catch you later okay?”

• ellie’s now standing in the doorway to your shared room, playing with her hands as she watches you almost analytically for a moment before you notice her stood there. you’re drawing in your notepad, feeling a lot calmer from when you’d had a bit of an overstimulation fuelled breakdown earlier in the day.

• “hi els.” you greet casually, your voice quiet and a little hoarse from exhausting yourself earlier.

• “hey baby.” she wanders in, coming to perch on the edge of the bed next to where you were sat on the floor with your back to it. she gently runs a hand over the crown of your head, peering over at your paper. small doodles of animals and flowers and trees, she smiles. “can i… uh, ask you something?”

• a small ‘mhm’ sounds from you and she continues, drawing in a breath. “so… you know when you have those… you know when you kind of… freak out a little.” she begins, cringing at her word choice. she sees your pen stop shading and you tense up every so slightly, saying nothing for a moment before speaking.

• “ellie… i’m really sorry. i’m really trying to get better at controlling my emotions. you shouldn’t have to deal with —” you started and she’s jumping up to sit on the floor next to you, wrapping an arm around your shoulder with her face turned towards you, pinched in horror and guilt.

• “hey! no, no — babe, that’s- that’s not where i was going with that. at all. ‘kay? i was gonna ask— how can i help you? i wanna be there for you, ‘ya know? but i have no idea what to do and i feel like i’m being a totally shitty girlfriend so… lay it on me. tell me what you need.” she explained herself breathlessly, chasing each word like she was worried she wouldn’t explain fast enough and upset you.

• you deflated, turning to look at her with wide watery eyes, your heart melting.

• “you’re not a shitty girlfriend ellie.” you pout, leaning in and kissing her. you then help explain how you feel, and some warning signs that you’re getting overstimulated so she can help get you out of any situations that might make you freak out <3333

♡

[aceofstars0]

Two doodles I did in excitement of techno's new video

🩸🐷👑 The blood hashira ~

Rant under the cut about how much he meant to me vv

I never thought id ever say "technoblade's new video again". I said goodbye to new technoblade content 2 years ago. None of this has ever felt real, I still remember listening to him say he had cancer, waiting for him to say "nah, I'm just messin' with ya". I'm still waiting for that video. The few days after I watched that, I was thinking about it nonstop and I remember listening to dream's new (at the time) song "change my clothes" while helping my brother move into his dorm, just trying to process it all and tell myself it would be alright. I know, it's a dream song, but it was comforting nonetheless.

When the video announcing his death came out, I didn't even watch it. No matter how hard I wanted to deny it, I knew what had happened without even watching the video. My sisters asked if I had heard a few hours later while I was still in denial. My closer sister isn't at all into mcyt, and she said she watched it and cried. I texted my brother, he said he cried. We all cried. I knew if I watched it then I wouldn't be able to think of anything positive for weeks, and I had just gotten out of a rough patch and didn't want that. So I spent the whole day and day after existing and processing.

During COVID, he and the dream smp (as well as Akira) were my saving graces. It was such a boring summer since no one could do anything and I remember watching the dream smp for hours on end, giggling in the couch, drawing shitty doodles in my sketchbook to help me sleep. It kept me sane. And my favorite - technoblade. He was so funny, so witty, so funny, I loved his "technoblade never dies" bits, all the selling out, all the begging for money, I loved everything he did.

During my doodle sesh I got curious to know what the video was about. I knew it would make me cry. Hard. And boy I did. When he talked about techno's last note to us and dying 3 hours later...... I cried. I cried harder than any show has made me cry (not more than school, but that's pretty hard to top).

I still go back from time to time to rewatch his old videos. I still get a kick, and since I don't think I'll ever fully process that he's gone, I can watch simply for fun and not... Cry.

We miss you, king.

[shes-an-artist]

Chapter Four - A month later, Bucky and Steve's apartment, 8:30 am

Chapter warnings: some fluff/bonding time, more of a filler chapter.

Word count: 1702 words

"James Barnes!" Addie shouted from the living room as she stamped her foot. "Is anyone gonna be excited that I got a job??"

"Wait what??" Steve poked his head from the kitchen where the scent of oatmeal came wafting through the small room.

"I got a job, Stevie!" Addie jumped once. "Where's Bucky?"

"Uh, I'm not sure."

"Is that man still asleep? JAMES!!"

A loud--and objecting--groan was heard from Bucky's room where Addie found the man still sprawled out on his bed.

"Bucky! It's amazing because guess who's little girl got a job!?" She jumped on the bed and yanked the pillow out from under his head.

"Doll, it is wayyyy to early to be so happy-" he groaned again rubbing his eyes. "Wait- a job??"

"Yes, you bug lump!" Addie smacked his chest. "I got a job down at the drug store! They said I could start this evening!"

"Look at you go!" Bucky sat up, his bed-head making her laugh. "But this couldn't have waited till afte I actually woke up?"

"James." She made a mock-pout, but inside she knew he really did care.

"I'm playing, Adding machine." He poked her before stretching his shoulders.

"I know, but what can I say? I've been bored out my mind with no job, but now that's all changed! Steve's got breakfast coming too."

"Steve's cooking?"

"He had the stove on, that's progress." She teased.

"Get outa here so I can change." He pushed her, gently of course, to which she snickered and fought the dirty comment that rose in her mind.  Instead she made her way to the kitchen where Steve was finishing off the oatmeal.

"Hey, Addie." He waved before turning back to his work. "What did Buck say?"

"He's happy for me, of course this was after I pulled on his arm a little." She grinned, but her own words made her reconsider what she meant. In a little less than a decade the man in the other room would be the world's greatest assassin with a titanium arm shoved into his shoulder.

"Whats with the face?" Steve sat down with his bowl, startling Addie from her thoughts. "You look sad."

"Oh, sorry, I just... nothing important. You might not believe me either..."

"That's what you said about how old you were," he gave her the side eye while he took a bite of his breakfast.

"Nah, it's not that important, Steve. I'm here, ain't I?"

"True," he smiled. "Oh, sorry, do you want a bowl?"

"Ooh, yes please, I'm starved."

"I had an idea last night," Steve spoke as he scooped a large helping into another bowl for her.

"Spill." She rested her chin in her hands. "I'm all ears."

"Would you mind modeling for me? I wanna try and draw you."

"Really?? Me??"

"You should see his works," Bucky commented as he wandered into the kitchen. "He's really good."

"I've seen his doodles," she smiled before catching herself.

"Where?" Steve set the bowl down before getting her a spoon.

"Uh..." she couldn't very well say a movie that came out over 100 years later. "I took out the trash and I think your drawing fell on the floor. I put it back in the book for you."

"Oh, well, thanks Ad." Steve smiled and sat back down. "Anyway, whadya say?"

"Well, I'd have to do it on my day off though. That should be Saturday."

"Perfect. Thanks." He nodded. "I'll be looking forward to it."

"You're sweet." She patted his hand.

"Awwwwwww." Bucky made a face.

"You can shut your mouth, Barnes." Addie half-scolded.

"Ouch, my heart." Bucky frowned.

Addie smirked and shook her head. "You're a sad sack of bananas, Buck."

"Wow, she's getting better." Steve looked at Bucky who had his hands on his hips, his tongue running along his teeth.

"One day I'll learn to keep my mouth shut."

"But it is not this day!" Addie raised a finger. She knew neither of the two would get the reference, but screw the timeline.

That Saturday

"Now don't move a muscle-" Steve tapped Addie's shoulder before backing up and fixing the curtain for the right lighting. "You look just perfect. Now the bad news is you have to stay just like that until I say so."

"Oh, fun." Addie rolled her eyes, being careful not to move.

"I won't be long." Steve reassure before sitting on the floor and picking up his pencil.

"And you're sure no one will come in here?" She asked, sounding a little hesitant.

"Trust me doll. Buck won't be back for hours."

"Where is he, by the way? I saw him this morning, but after that he just ran off."

"It's Mother's Day tomorrow, he went to see his Ma." Steve didn't look up as he carefully drew her curves that were projected onto the screen where she stood only in the tights that had stayed with her during the "Trip". She rested her ankle on the radiator(it was off of course), stretching her leg straight out, almost taking the stance of a ballerina.

Her mane of hair tumbled over her shoulder and she held her hands above her head.

"Ah, that's nice." She smiled, forcing down her desire to see her own mother, not even see her, just talk to her.

"Steve?"

"Yeah?"

"I want your opinion."

"Okay, shoot."

"I was thinking about joining the Auxiliary Corps and...I don't know if I should tell Mr. Bob first or wait till I get my letter and THEN tell him."

All she could hear was the sudden drop of a pencil on the hardwood floor.

"Steve?"

"You want to join the Army???"

"It's not the Army, but it's more like the Red Cross. I want to help people, and I can't very well go out and fight with the war coming."

Oop. Another slip. The Second World War hadn't started yet.

"We don't know if we will go to war, kid." Steve tried to sound wiser, but even still Addie knew he wanted to fight as well. And he would get pretty of it soon...

"Speaking of which, where did you get that bruise on your jaw?"

"What?" She smirked when she heard his pencil stop moving.

"You heard me, Steve."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Alright then," she knew he couldn't see her shit-eating grin, but it was worth it. "I'll ask Bucky then."

"Addison."

"What? I care, Steve. You can't be picking fights with every boy on the street just because he ruffled your hair."

"It's not like that.."

"I'm sorry," Addie suppressed her sigh. "Okay, I know it's hard. But don't worry, give it a few years, maybe you just have one last growth spurt and it's taking it's sweet time."

"You can say that again." Steve muttered before his pencil started moving again. "Hey, lift your chin just a little more."

Addie obeyed him, keeping her neck stiff. "Like that?"

"Perfect."

"I'm serious, Steve. Things will get better, I promise."

"Well-...how do you know?"

"I just do. Can you take my word for it?"

"Alright, Adding Machine." She could hear the laughter in Steve's voice when he used Bucky's nickname for her. "Thanks."

"That looks really good!" Bucky grinned as he handed the drawing back to Steve. "She's quite the looker."

"I can hear you, Bucky!" Addie called from the other room where she was changing back into her dress. She had grown the love the dresses, the modesty was very elegant yet just revealing enough to send the men whistling.

"So what?" Bucky shot back.

"So you're coy!"

"Again, so what?"

Addie rolled her eyes and shook her head. She liked this Bucky, he was happy and he had Steve. Meanwhile the future Captain America seemed a little glum. He couldn't very well work(not without multiple breaks and his asthma limited everything), but Addie would find a way around this..

"You might want to talk to Bucky about what you told me this morning." Steve suggested as Addie strolled into the living room where she halfway sat on the couch's armrest.

"Are you keeping secrets?" Bucky teased as he tickled behind her ear playfully. For a grown man he was very affectionate.

"Maybe," Addie shrugged, trying to sound as is she was hiding something to humor him.

"Steve, we took in a jerk."

Steve just rolled his eyes and simply watching the exchange.

"I am a jerk, flattery will gain you nothing, Barnes."

"Just tell him, Ad." Steve laughed.

"I was thinking about joining the Auxiliary Corps." She sobered and looked at Bucky.  "But I wanted to ask you guys' opinion on wether I should tell Mr. Bob now, or wait till I get my letter and then tell him."

Bucky was silent as he exchanged a glance with Steve.

"You act like we're already at war!" He objected, failing at hiding his dismay.

"I said I was thinking about it, Bucky. You know I just wouldn't leave you two like that." But war was coming, wether they liked it or not. And both of them would be heavily affected by it.

"But what about Steve?" Now he was coming up with excuses. "You can't just leave him!"

"Bucky, you aren't listening to me."

"But you can't!"

"Okay," she stood up and walked to him. "James, look at me. I am not going anywhere right now. I see you guys every day and I love you both. But as I said I am thinking about it. I haven't made up my mind yet. Besides, if we do go to war, I want to do all I can, as I'm sure you both will."

Bucky sighed and looked down. "I'm sorry, Ad. You just-...you're the best gal we got and I don't know what we would do without you. What did you tell her, Steve?"

"I didn't say anything, but I'm on the same train as Buck. We'd be lost without you."

"You guys are sweet." Addie still blushed even after a month and half with these guys. "It'll be a shame when I marry one of you."

"Wait- what?" Steve actually spun around on the couch.

"Okay, Ads that was a dumb move."

A/N: Okay, MAJOR angst incoming in next chapter, so just brace yourselves

thank you for reading 🥰✌️

Dividers by @strangergraphics

prompt by @the-superoriginal

written by yours truly, all relation to actual people are purely coincidental

tag list: @oh-to-be-a-murderer - @fictionalmenjusthitdifferent - @itzzkaylaaa - @crazyinlovewithmarvel - @natt-romanoff - @ohyeah-itssamwilson - @proud-owner-0f-americas-ass - @thebestmerc-1 - @daniel-barnes-the-ghost - @nighttimewitchgirl(but if you dont wanna be tagged tell me plz <3)

if you would like to be tagged in the upcoming chapters, please send me an ask and I will make sure to tag you!

[aphrosephone119]

New mini fic!! 'Summer storm on the beach'

some cute fluff between young John B and JJ. enjoy!!! ⬇️

On the first day of 7th Grade, John B and his new class were asked to describe the person to their left using a type of weather as a warm up exercise. John B was lucky to have his best friend JJ on his left and was really excited to do this task.

But about 20 minutes into the exercise, he still had a blank page, and he didn't know why. He'd spent almost everyday with JJ since the 3rd Grade and probably knew him better than he knew himself. So why couldn't he do something so simple??

JJ had already completed his task. He had the opportunity to write about a girl he'd had a crush on for a while. John B glanced at his friends page and saw the words 'clear sunny day' written on it. This boy was WHIPPED, and John B couldn't help the small huffed laugh that came out when he read it.

JJ shot John B a curious look, eyebrows raised. “What’s so funny?” he whispered, careful not to catch the teacher's attention.

“Nothing,” John B replied, his small smirk fading as he looked back down at his empty page. John B tapped his pencil against the desk and let his mind wander as he tried to think of JJ's characteristics that would relate to a certain weather type.

JJ was loud. He was wild. He was an embodiment of bringing life to the party, and people couldn't help be drawn in by his bright energy, especially the girls. But on the flip side, at times he was quiet, extremely thoughtful, and sweet. He was like the calm before something big. He was the kind of friend who could make you feel safe and content one moment, then throw you into chaos the next. But no matter what, you'd still feel relaxed and protected, even when shit hit the fan.

John B’s pencil stopped tapping as an idea struck him. He looked back at JJ, who was now doodling little waves on the corner of his page.

The words practically wrote themselves as John B scrawled them onto his paper.

'JJ Maybank is like a summer storm on the beach. He can be unpredictable and full of energy, crashing into your life like strong waves against the shore. But even in the chaos, there’s still a warmth to him, like the sun hidden behind the clouds, allowing bright rays to beam through the dark sky like angelic light. He can be calm and peaceful, like the quiet that's present right before a storm. But he can also be loud and wild, making sure you’ll never forget he was there. And no matter what, he always leaves you feeling refreshed and alive.'

John B set his pencil down and stared at the page. He felt like he’d captured exactly who JJ was. This felt right.

The teacher called for everyone to share, and when it was John B’s turn, he felt nervous. He and JJ hadn't really done this before, they were foreign to the idea of being 'deep and emotional', but maybe doing this would allow them to open this door for future conversations at the Chateau. So, he stood from his desk and read his work aloud.

When he finished, the room was quiet for a moment, the kind of silence that follows something unexpectedly profound. John B glanced nervously at JJ, who had stopped doodling. JJ's expression was unreadable for a second before a slow, crooked grin broke out across his face.

"That was beautiful, John B." The teacher said with a smile as John B took his seat again.

“Damn, John B,” JJ whispered as the next student started reading. “You making me feel all warm and fuzzy."

John B snorted, trying to play it cool, but his cheeks were warm. “Shut up, man,” he muttered, though he couldn’t help the smile tugging at his lips.

JJ nudged him with his elbow, his grin not fading. “Nah, for real. That was... I dunno, kinda awesome.” He glanced down at his doodle, suddenly looking a little shy. “Didn’t know you thought of me like that.”

“Well, it’s true,” John B said, leaning back in his chair. He tried to act casual, but the truth was, he meant every single word. Because JJ wasn’t just his best friend, he was the person who made life more exciting. He caused havoc, yet somehow made life more stable at the same time. JJ was his brother. And after 4 great years with this blonde summer storm in his life, John B couldn't even imagine his world without JJ in it any more.

JJ smirked, the trademark mischievous spark in his eyes. “So, what you’re saying is, I’m the highlight of your life?”

“Don’t push it,” John B shot back, rolling his eyes.

But JJ just laughed, a sound that filled the room like sunshine after rain. It was warm and bright.

The rest of the class moved on, but the boys stayed in their bubble for a moment longer. JJ leaned over, his voice dropping to a rare tone of sincerity. “For real, though. Thanks, man. That’s probably the nicest thing anyone’s ever said about me.”

"Always, dude. But hey, I'm curious..." John B whispered. "What weather type would you say I am?"

JJ tilted his head, studying John B with a thoughtful expression that made him look unusually serious. For a moment, John B thought he might not have an answer. Then the blonde's face broke into that familiar, signature grin.

“You...” JJ started, tapping his pencil against his desk as if he were weighing his words. “You’re like... the first warm day after winter.”

John B raised an eyebrow. “That’s... oddly poetic for you, man.”

JJ shrugged, the grin softening into something more genuine. “Nah, think about it. You’re steady, you know? You show up, and everything feels a little better. You make the cold and dark disappear, and bring this feeling that, no matter what, things are gonna to be ok. Like when the snow starts melting, and the sun’s out, and you can feel spring’s not that far away. That’s you.”

John B blinked, caught off guard by the unexpected depth. “Damn, man,” he said, his voice quieter than he intended. “That’s... That's like SO sweet!”

JJ shrugged again, but his ears turned slightly pink. “Yeah, well, don’t get used to it,” he said, quickly turning his attention back to his doodles. “I’m still the summer storm, remember? Can’t have you thinking I’ve gone soft.”

John B laughed, shaking his head. “Never, dude."

[cursedwoman1859]

Careful What You Wish For (Silco/F!Reader/Finn)

Rating: Explicit (18+, MDNI)

Words: 4.7k

Content: Threesome (MFM); oral sex (M recieving); PiV, light D/s; rough sex; humiliation; genital piercings. No beta we die like finns dignity

Summary: Finn steps out of line at a meeting and Silco enlists your help in reminding him of his place.

AO3 Link

-

Chem baron assemblies weren’t the worst part of your job as Silco’s assistant, but they were up there.

It should have been fascinating, getting to sit in on Zaun’s equivalent of the council meetings. Every person in the room with you controlled their own little slice of the Undercity with an iron fist – whether that meant the chem trade, body mods, brothels, or webs of spies and informants who could find out anything about anybody for the right price. But more often than not, meetings devolved into petty squabbling over territory and who owed what to whom – and you had to sit there and take minutes through all of it.

Your only consolation was that Silco made it clear he hated these meetings as much as you did.

Today’s assembly had dragged on longer than usual, and you were relieved to be packing up at last. You just had to finish the notes you were making, and then you’d be free. A few of the chem barons had already left, though Silco was still hashing out the details of a Shimmer production deal with Renni. Sevika was leaning against the door by the elevator, looking bored out of her mind, and you were about to go over to her when a shadow fell across your notebook.

“I haven’t noticed you here before,” a familiar voice said, and you looked up with your brows already raised. Finn was one of the newer chem barons, and you had to wonder whether his affected swagger and bold fashion choices were compensation for the fact that he had inherited his position and everybody knew it.

“I’m always here. I’m Silco’s assistant.”

“I know,” said Finn, leaning on the edge of your desk, caging you in, “but I never noticed you.”

The desk you used was in a corner of the room, and Finn was blocking the only exit. You sighed, finishing what you’d been writing and capping your pen. You were not in the mood for this, but you plastered a polite smile on your face regardless. “Then I’m doing my job well, aren’t I?”

Not to be deterred, Finn only leaned in closer, his voice dropping to a low purr. “I wouldn’t shove you in a corner and make you take notes all day, is all I’m saying. Nah, if you worked for me, I’d have you sat right next to me where everyone can see, and I’d—”

“I like my corner, thank you,” you said curtly before Finn could finish that thought, snapping your leather-bound notebook closed. It had been a gift from Silco, and the black cover bore a bright pink doodle of his insignia, courtesy of Jinx. “I like my job, too.” You glanced over at your boss. He was still talking with Renni, leaned back in his seat with a cigar smoking steadily in his hand and smoke drifting out from his lips as he spoke, but as if he could sense you looking at him his gaze flicked over to you, just for the briefest second. That relieved some of the tightness in your throat. Finn could be as pushy as he liked, and you could handle him, but Silco or Sevika would step in if you needed someone with a little more sway to scare Finn off.

It wasn’t yourself you were afraid for.

“Okay,” Finn said, holding his hands up in mock surrender. His eyes raked over you, and you realised that from this angle he probably had a pretty good view down the front of your blouse. “But you’re done working now, right? How about you come with me and I’ll show you how I’d appreciate having someone like you with the Slickjaws. I’ll buy you a drink.”

You stood abruptly, but Finn still didn’t back off. If anything, he only leaned closer while you packed your things away, and his too-heavy cologne made your nose twitch. “Thanks, Finn, but I’m not interested.”

Finn only drew himself taller, tilting his head as he gazed down at you, a smirk pulling at his lips. The top one, anyway. “Fine, you wanna be like that, I get it. You’re a classy lady, I can see that. Guess that’s why you like working for Silco so much. I’ll take you to dinner first.”

You glanced back at Silco, and your throat tightened when your eyes met his. Renni was reading over some contract with her own assistant, but he was no longer paying attention. You wondered how long he’d been watching, letting Finn dig his own grave. The other chem baron was a dumbass, but he probably didn’t deserve whatever was coming if he didn’t leave you alone.

“Finn, I told you I’m not interested. Now please let me go home.” You tilted your chin up and put as much steel into your voice as you could.

But Finn wasn’t going to be deterred by your words. “Alone?” he said, leaning down into your space, his arm on the desk still caging you in.

“Yeah, alone,” you said, your patience wearing out. Fuck it. It wasn’t like Silco was going to punish you for giving as good as you got. Especially not to Finn. “Now let me pass or I’ll screw your jaw shut.”

To your dismay, Finn only laughed, his sleek curtain of hair swaying as he tipped his head back. “Oh, she bites! I knew you had some fire in there somewhere. I like them feisty.”

Of course he does. You resisted the urge to roll your eyes, feeling the weight of your brass knuckles in your pocket. Another gift from Silco – he’d wanted you to be able to protect yourself, even if you weren’t much of a fighter, and he’d reasoned that it would be hard for an assailant to take them and use them against you, so you’d have time to run. You’d never actually used them, and trying them out on Finn would definitely be taking it too far, but they were a comforting presence in your pocket nonetheless.

But a sharp call of your name cut across the lame response you’d been about to give, and relief made your shoulders sag. Silco was shrugging on his coat, his business with Renni concluded (and not to the other chem baron’s favour, judging by the sour expression on her face). “Come. We’re leaving.”

At last Finn stepped aside, his eyes roving over you one last time as you passed. “You know where to find me when the old man gives you a day off, baby.”

Ugh. “Keep dreaming, Finn,” you muttered as you hurried over to where Silco and Sevika were waiting by the elevator, and you didn’t miss the glare your boss shot Finn before he turned on his heel and stalked through the ornate doors of the assembly room.

“Please tell me you weren’t flirting with Finn,” Sevika said once the elevator was rumbling down to street level.

You glanced at Silco before you responded. He was quiet, his mismatched gaze fixed on something in the distance, and you could almost see the plans formulating behind his eyes like clouds gathering before a storm. “No way,” you said to Sevika. “He was just trying his luck. I bet kissing him is like licking a brass doorknob.”

That made Sevika chuckle, and you thought even Silco’s lips twitched up for a second, but it could have just been the lights from outside shifting as the elevator descended. He said nothing on the way down, but you could tell he wasn’t happy. You couldn’t begin to guess what he was planning, but the thought that Finn would soon be feeling the wrath of the Eye of Zaun was more exciting than it should have been.

-

A few days later, you had your answer.

Silco called you to his office towards the end of the day, when the bar downstairs was starting to empty and the sliver of sky you could see from the street was lightening, dawn turning the neon haze that bathed the city sickly green like a healing bruise. Zaun’s nocturnal schedule was one thing you’d always loved about it compared with Piltover. It gave everything that happened in the undercity an air of vice, and when you entered Silco’s office to find him already watching you with sharp eyes that felt like they could peel back every layer of your clothing, you knew your evening was about to get a lot more interesting.

“How do you feel about staying a little late tonight?” Silco said as you approached his desk. He turned his chair to the side, and that was all the signal you needed to round the desk and sink down into his lap.

“Need me to reorganise your filing cabinets again?” you said with an arch of your brows.

Silco took a cigar from the ashtray, and he didn’t need to ask you to light it for him. “Not quite. I’ve invited Finn here to discuss the territory dispute he was having with the Vyx. Tell me, do you truly find him so repulsive?”

“I…” You trailed off, wondering where this was going, but Silco’s ever-schooled expression gave you no hints. “Not repulsive, no. Just irritating.”

“And if I were to ask you to help him remember his place after the Assembly, what would you say?”

Ah. So this was where the other shoe dropped. For Finn, at least. The slow, almost absentminded circles Silco was drawing on your inner thigh (to the extent that Silco did anything absentmindedly) gave you a pretty good idea of what kind of plans Silco had made for the chem baron. “I suppose I could tolerate it for the sake of teaching him a lesson,” you said, keeping your voice light.

A slow, predatory smile spread across Silco’s features, and you shuddered. You’d been on the receiving end of that expression more than once. “Good girl. Now, go sit at your desk and look busy. You’ll know when I’m ready for you.”

-

When Finn arrived, you played the part of the quiet, unassuming assistant with practiced ease. You met him at the bar and led him upstairs, laughing off the flirtatious comments he made and putting a little extra sway into your hips for good measure. You fetched coffee and sat at your desk in the corner of the office, making yourself invisible as you let the scratching of your pen fill the gaps in the two chem barons’ conversation.

If Finn sensed anything was different, he gave no sign of it, sitting casually on Silco’s couch with one foot propped on his other knee, fidgeting with his lighter as he spoke. It was a wonder he ever got to light anything with it after wasting all the fuel.

You watched him from under your lashes as you worked. He wasn’t bad looking, really, just a little…over the top. If he noticed you watching, he wisely didn’t acknowledge it in front of Silco.

It was a little late for him to suddenly get some common sense, but you appreciated the effort anyway.

“There’s one more matter we need to discuss.” The chill that had crept into Silco’s voice made the hair on the back of your neck prickle. “Your transgression at the last chem baron assembly.” You heard his chair creak as he leaned back, but you didn’t dare look over at him.

“My—this is about her?” Finn said, his eyes finding you for the first time.

You could almost hear the unimpressed arch of Silco’s eyebrow in his voice. “My assistant made it quite clear she wasn’t interested in you, professionally or otherwise, yet you continued to pursue her, never once considering if perhaps there was a reason for her disinterest. One might even think you were trying to poach my staff from right under my nose. This was a grave insult towards both of us, Finn.”

For a second Finn’s mouth hung open as his eyes flitted between the two of you. You put your pen down, resting your chin on your hand as you watched the younger chem baron flounder. “I wasn’t—Silco, I would never try to take your staff from you. I just asked her out for a drink, that’s all, I swear.”

“I know,” Silco said, his voice deceptively light, and Finn’s whole body went rigid as he stood up and rounded his desk, but Silco only leaned on the other side, his arms folded as he looked down at Finn. “Just a moment of weakness, the temptation becoming too much for you, right? I’ll admit she can be something of a distraction.” He sighed, letting his words hang in the air, and you caught the exact moment Finn understood the implication, the suggestion that you weren’t just an assistant. By this point his eyes were so wide you would have laughed at the expression if you weren’t distracted by the heat already pooling low in your belly at what you knew was coming. Silco kept his eyes fixed on Finn as he held his hand out, long fingers crooked invitingly. “Come here, darling.”

You rose from your seat slowly, hardly daring to look at Silco as you came to stand between him and Finn. You already knew all the details of Silco’s plan, but you also knew that if you had a chance to dwell on what you were about to do, you’d lose your nerve. And you really didn’t want to back out now.

Finn’s metallic jaw hung loose as Silco’s hands trailed up your arms to the collar of your blouse, deft fingers undoing the buttons one by one. “You know, perhaps this situation is my fault,” he said as he pulled your blouse off your shoulders and tossed it aside. Next came your skirt, and you stepped out of your shoes and socks so you were stood there in only your undergarments. “Perhaps I haven’t been valuing your fantastic work ethic enough, Finn.” He punctuated that sentence by roughly unlacing your bra and tossing that aside too, so your tits bounced free. Your panties soon followed, another victim of the small knife Silco always kept up his sleeve.

Finn’s knuckles were now white, his hands clenched on his knees.

“Maybe it’s time I showed you how much I appreciate your contributions to the cause.”

Your nipples hardened to stiff, pebbled peaks, and you couldn’t tell if it was because of the cool air in the office or Silco’s voice sliding against your ear like satin.

“Fortunately for you, she’s had something of a change of heart. Haven’t you, sweetheart? Would you like to help me remind Finn exactly where he stands in our enterprise?”

You nodded, then hissed as he pinched your nipples in warning. “Yes, sir,” you said quickly.

Finn’s eyes flicked between you and Silco, and you could see his mind reeling, searching for the catch. You could hardly blame him – though he made no move to leave, and his tight pants were doing absolutely nothing to hide his interest.

“Sure,” he said, shrugging in a way that was probably supposed to look nonchalant but would fool absolutely no-one. He glanced towards the door. “We could just—”

“Oh, no,” Silco said, nudging you towards the couch. “I think my office is perfectly sufficient.”

You knelt on the couch next to Finn, your hands braced on his thighs as he slowly shifted to face you. You wondered if he was even conscious of the movement. You glanced up at him, noted the slight flush on his cheeks. His throat bobbed as he swallowed, and you could see the exact moment he thought, fuck it. He gave a short, jerky nod and you took that as your cue to free his cock from his jeans. You took him in your hand, already half-hard, but then you stopped, your eyebrows raising as you saw the three piercings near the bottom of his shaft, on the underside. They were gold barbells capped with large, heavy diamonds, and you wondered if they’d come before or after the jaw.

“What’s wrong? Can’t handle a bit of ice, baby?” Finn purred.

“It won’t be a problem,” Silco answered for you. You glanced over your shoulder to find him leaning on the edge of his desk, watching with feigned boredom, though the heat in the depths of his corrupted eye gave him away. “She’s quite capable. Continue.”

You spat into your palm and worked your hand over the head of Finn’s cock. It didn’t take long to coax him to full hardness. When you glanced up at him, you could see he was doing his best to keep his expression schooled (which shouldn’t have been hard for him, given that half his face was metal). His fingers twitched as if he wanted to touch you but thought better of it. Maybe he wasn’t as dense as he seemed.

The couch dipped under you as Silco knelt behind you, and Finn looked up in alarm. “I never said you’d have her all to yourself,” your boss said over your shoulder.For a moment you were sure Finn would object, but he only chuckled, though his laughter was strained. “So that’s the deal with you two.”

“Yes, Finn, that is the deal,” Silco said, and your stomach twisted in anticipation as his hand fisted in your hair. “You got there eventually.”

“Come on, old man,” Finn said, some of his earlier bravado finding its way back into his voice. “You’re the last chem-baron I’d think would be fucking his assistant.”

“I suppose I’m full of surprises,” Silco said dryly, tapping a spot on your back, and you obediently put both hands behind your back so that Silco could pin them in place, your balance now completely dependent on him.

He leaned down, his lips grazing your ear and his voice soft enough for only you to hear. “Still okay with this, sweetheart?”

“Yes, sir.”

“And what is our signal? Do you remember?”

“Tap your leg with my foot twice for a breather, three times to stop,” you recited.

“Good girl,” he murmured, and then he was pushing your head down.

For a few moments he only held your head at the tip of Finn’s cock, letting you take your time teasing the tip with your tongue. When you glanced up, your eyes met Finn’s, and you thought you heard him curse under his breath. Then you had to break eye contact as Silco forced your head lower, guiding Finn into your throat as you ran your tongue over the underside of his shaft, earning yourself a shaky, measured exhale that suggested it was taking all of Finn’s willpower not to start fucking your throat at his own pace.

Then Silco was pulling you back up, the sting in your scalp making your eyes water, though it was just the right kind of pain that sent flashes of heat along your spine. The heat between your thighs had solidified into a persistent, heavy ache, and you hoped Silco wasn’t planning for this to end with you simply sucking Finn's cock– and it wouldn’t, if the growing hardness you could feel pressing into your ass was any indication.

You took a breath while you could, before Silco pushed your head back down, this time far enough for you to give the first piercing an experimental flick with your tongue as it passed your lips, which made Finn’s breath stutter and his cock twitch in your throat.

There wasn’t time for such indulgences after that. Once you’d adjusted to Finn’s size and figured out how to avoid catching the stupid diamonds on your incisors, Silco set a more brutal pace that made Finn curse through gritted teeth as your head bobbed on his cock, though it was never more than you could handle. Silco knew exactly how much you could take, and he knew how to toe the line without pushing you over it, seemingly having some sixth sense for the moment your vision started to darken from lack of air. Your jaw ached and tears pricked at your eyes from the pain in your scalp, surely ruining your eyeliner, but not once did you consider tapping out. 

Silco let go of your hands, but you kept them clasped behind your back anyway. The vicelike grip he’d had on them had made his point clear enough; your every movement was to be at his command, your obedience complete. The sound of buttons popping was barely audible over the wet sounds of your mouth on Finn’s length, but it still sent shivers of anticipation along your every nerve. You bit back a desperate whine when you felt Silco slowly draw his cock through your heat, coating himself in the wetness that had gathered there.

“Look at me, Finn,” Silco said, his voice like velvet, and your eyes fluttered closed in pleasure as he sank into you, though the pressure of being filled at last did nothing to soothe the ache in your core. You risked a cheeky thrust of your hips backwards, urging him deeper, which earned you a warning tug on your scalp. You couldn’t see whether Finn obeyed, but he must have, because Silco continued, “This could have been you right now. Had you kept your head down, done your damn job and kept the money coming in, perhaps I would have seen fit to reward you properly.” He drew himself almost fully out of you before thrusting back in to the base, your groan of pleasure muffled by Finn’s cock. Silco had forced you to take him so deep your nose was pressed to his groin, and your mind felt fuzzy, but you still had enough wit to think to yourself, liar. Silco might be willing to allow Finn to indulge in your mouth, but he had an ulterior motive. Anything else was about as likely as a Shimmerhead sharing his fix. “But no,” he continued, his voice sliding into a low, dangerous hiss that made your skin prickle with goosebumps. “You had to poke your head up above your station. You had to get cocky. You had to try to claim what isn’t yours. I want you to remember this next time you think of stepping out of line.” His voice was as measured as ever, his tone bordering on disinterest, but you knew better. You heard the gravelly bedrock beneath the silken surface. He’s close. “Remember who built this nation. Who gave you your own little fiefdoms where you can live like kings, instead of street dogs tearing each other apart over scraps. And remember how easily I can tear you down, just as swiftly as I raised you up.”

As if to illustrate his point, he pulled your head up so you released Finn’s cock and your spluttering gasps filled the quiet, occasionally dissolving into desperate whimpers as Silco fucked you, just a little slower than he knew you liked, the bastard.

When you risked another glance up at Finn, you could see the cogs turning behind his lust-clouded eyes, even as he subconsciously angled his hips up towards your waiting mouth.

“All right, I overstepped,” he gritted out. “I already said I was sorry.” You thought you caught a please whispered under his breath, or maybe it was just the blood rushing in your ears.

Silco gave a low hm of consideration but pushed your head back down regardless, and you obediently opened your mouth to take Finn into your throat once more. This time the pace Silco set was more intense, and you had to fight off your gag reflex as Finn shuddered beneath you.

“Everything you have, everything you are, exists because I allow it. Both of you,” he said, driving into you faster, your tits bouncing obscenely with the force of it. “But look at her, you’re grateful, aren’t you darling?”

You gave a choked moan around Finn’s cock, and Silco chuckled, the sound rich and smoky and tipping you dangerously close to a peak you weren’t sure you had permission to reach. “That’s it,” he said, fingers finding their way to your clit as if to reward your obedience. “Always so well behaved. You could stand to learn a few things, Finn.”

The tight, quick circles Silco was drawing on your clit were enough to send you careening into your orgasm, permission be damned. Your eyes rolled back in your head as you clenched around Silco’s cock, waves of pleasure radiating from your core to the tips of your toes, and the force of it soon pulled Silco down with you, though the only thing that gave him away was the stutter in the rhythm of his hips and the tightening of his hand in your hair.

He pulled out of you and quickly tucked himself away, pulling you off Finn once again. You panted as the aftershocks of your orgasm skittered along your nerves, a string of drool connecting you to the tip of Finn’s dick. “If you want to finish,” Silco said, “you can start by apologising to my assistant.”

“Fuck,” Finn snapped when you gave a taunting little lick to his head when he took his time answering. “I’m sorry, alright? I didn’t mean – I shoulda left you alone when you said. I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable, it was just flirting.”

“Acceptable?” Silco leaned down to speak softly into your ear again, and you shivered in pleasure at the attention.

You looked up at Finn through your lashes. His sleek hair was a mess, his cheeks flushed, and his gold eyes had a wildness to them you’d never seen before, like he was balancing on the edge of a building and you were the one holding him up, and he didn’t know if you were about to save him or let him fall.

It occurred to you that you could say no. One word from you, and Silco would send Finn scuttling out of here with balls as blue as Hex-crystals.

That was probably what Silco would have done, if it were up to him. Fortunately for Finn, you weren’t so cruel. Your throat was raw and the words wouldn’t come, so you just nodded. It was enough.

“Very well.” Silco released your hair and sat back against the couch. “You may finish, Finn.”

“In her mouth?” he said as you swirled your tongue around his head once more, this time able to use your hands as well, sparing your abused throat.

There was a click and fizz of a lighter, and you could picture very well the withering glare that Silco had to be aiming over your head. “Well, if you ruin my couch I’ll have you gutted alive. So yes, come in her mouth.”

You hollowed out your cheeks and sucked, and that was all it took. Finn came with a growl he barely stifled, boldly grabbing your hair and holding you in place as he fucked your throat, spilling over your tongue again and again as you swallowed it down. You were relieved when you could finally release him, giving one last flick of your tongue to his tip, making him hiss. It was only fair, you thought, considering the ache in your jaw.

“Get out,” Silco said quietly from behind you. “And never pull something like this again. Next time I will not be so lenient.”

Finn said nothing, only tucked himself into his pants and ducked out the door, his usual swagger gone. You weren’t fooled, though. You knew the look of a man who’d just had the best orgasm of his life.

Sighing, you flopped back on the couch, your head landing in Silco’s lap as your eyes fluttered shut in contentment.

“Was that too much?” Silco asked softly. He stroked a stray strand of hair away from your face, his touch featherlight compared to the iron grip he’d just had on your scalp.

You shook your head, breathing in the cloud of smoke he let drift down over you. “But you’re buying me a wig if I wake up bald tomorrow.”

He chuckled, the rich, dark sound curling out from his lips and settling over you much like the smoke had, sending heat curling in your belly once more. “Deal.” 

[blametheeditor]

Mike finds himself looking through the schematics he took from Afton Robotics for the fifth time that week.

Not because he can’t understand them, but because he can’t help feeling like he’s missing something. Despite the mechanical voice that’s now a permanent part of his consciousness answering all of his questions, elaborating on what ‘storage tank’ and ‘parental voice sync and replay’ meant, even with a big if he can trust the information given, it’s still not making much sense.

Sure, Mike can get behind the fact William Afton designed animatronics specifically to lure people in for nefarious reasons. But there’s no answer as to why.

And while there might be people out there who don’t really need a reason, William wasn’t one of them. Not a person who wouldn’t do something like this oh no this has William written all over it, but the man needs a motive.

On top of all of that, there’s a very distinct lack of anything concerning spaghetti wires. Aka, the robot acting as his organs was either a top secret project, a random creation that’s the equivalent to a doodle made by an artist, or a fully sentient machine that went rouge and/or built itself.

Option 1 seems most likely, but Mike really likes option 3.

How to make the amalgamation of wires tell him the truth about its origins...

You can always just ask me.

Nah, he can make a foolproof plan that guarantees answers he gets will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth.

That may be hard to do considering I know your every thought.

Right. Well he’s fucked.

[midnightshard06]

Flufftober Day 22

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/50489362/chapters/128969104

Summary: Sonic enjoys the ease at which he can pick Knuckles up as a werehog. He doesn't expect Knuckles to be able to do the same.

Pairing: Sonic the Hedgehog/Knuckles the Echidna

Warnings: None

Word Count: ~900 words

AN: Based in the same au as these doodles from this post- https://www.tumblr.com/midnightshard06/730864248738217984/so-my-brain-decided-to-oh-so-helpfully-have-me?source=share

@flufftober

“Could you put me down.” Knuckles glared at a recently transformed werehog Sonic.

Sonic gave him a grin. “I could.” 

The two stared at each other for a few moments. Sonic could tell Knuckles was getting more and more annoyed the longer the silence stretched on. Not like it was hard to tell what the echidna was feeling; it was something Sonic really liked about the guy. He found it hard to read people sometimes, downside of being alone most of his life, but he could alway tell how Knuckles felt. “You’re not going to put me down are you?” Knuckles’ glare deepened.

“You only asked if I could, not if I would.” Sonic grinned slyly, but decided to put him down anyway. “Next time just say what you want.”

Knuckles crossed his arms. “You know exactly what I meant mutt. You just choose to do that on purpose.”

“Do what on purpose?” Sonic gave him an innocent look.

The echidna looked like he was about to shout but instead he sighed heavily and walked past Sonic. “Whatever, let’s just find a place to camp for the night and then you can go run off some energy. Unless there’s any of those monsters around?” He looked back at Sonic.

Sonic pinned his ears down and shook his head. “Nah, I got nothing.”

“Of course.” Knuckles huffed. “Come on.” He gestured for him to follow and Sonic did so without complaint for now. It didn’t take long to find a suitable place for camp, and it took even less time to prep the area. The two didn’t really carry camping supplies with them; they’d never really needed them. Sonic had been roughing it pretty much his whole life and Knuckles had lived on an apparently floating island where he didn’t really have any sort of home. “Alright, go run around or whatever you do.” Knuckles waved him off as he leaned against a tree and hung his hat on a low branch. Shrugging Sonic did just that. He let his mind sort of blank as he ran around, he was aware enough to keep an eye out for anyone else who might be around but he wasn’t really taking in the surroundings. He didn’t stay out too long despite the shorter run not doing too much to get rid of the energy running through him, but he’d been feeling sort of on edge when he was away from Knuckles lately. He had no idea why though, maybe because of the weird magical connection thing.

As he arrived back at camp he noticed that Knuckles was now sitting at the base of the tree he’d been leaning against with his eyes closed, but Sonic could tell he wasn’t asleep. Smiling to himself he went over and plopped down on the echidna’s lap. Knuckles startled, looking ready to punch something, until he registered it was just Sonic. “Back already?” Knuckles didn’t sound upset like Sonic thought he would at the blatant invasion of his personal space, if Sonic didn’t know better he’d think the echidna sounded concerned.

“Eh, just didn’t wanna risk drawing attention to myself is all.” Sonic did his best to shrug and not look at Knuckles in the eyes. If he did, the echidna would probably see through the poor lie.

Now Sonic expected Knuckles to either give up and let him stay where he was or wiggle out from underneath him. What he had not been expecting however was for him to feel Knuckles put his hands underneath him and lift him off the ground. Sonic looked down at Knuckles, the echidna glared up at him. He didn’t seem to really be struggling with the weight at all. Sonic felt his face flush slightly; he knew Knuckles was strong but he’d never tried to lift Sonic before. “Uuuuuh.” Sonic’s brain felt like it had sort of short circuited. Like one of Tails’ inventions if the fox wired them wrong.

Without warning Knuckles threw him onto his back. Sonic collided with a solid thump and just stared at the sky in shock for a while, his brain trying to catch up with what had happened. Before he could try and get up Knuckles appeared in his vision, arms crossed. “Wrestle with me, or I’ll do that again.”

“You can lift me?” Was the first thought Sonic could get out of his mouth.

Knuckles actually briefly chuckled at that. “I could carry you around like you do to me if you weren’t bigger than me like this.”

“Ah.” Sonic looked away, his face was hot.

“Hey focus. Wrestle with me.” Knuckles grunted.

Sonic looked back at him. “Wait, why?”

“If you don’t want to deal with that extra energy yourself then I will. I’d like to actually get some sleep tonight.” Knuckles narrowed his eyes.

That was actually kinda thoughtful, even if Knuckles was framing it as doing it for his own benefit. Sonic grinned and wrapped his arms around Knuckles before lifting him up again. The echidna struggled in his grasp. “How are you gonna do that if I can just pick you up like this?”

“You’re insufferable.” Knuckles growled.

“Yet you still tolerate me.” Sonic held him out, his hands under Knuckles’ armpits.

“Only because I have to mutt.” Knuckles frowned, but Sonic could tell he didn’t mean that.

“Sure sure.” Sonic hummed. “But alright, let’s see what you got.”

[energysoda]

Breaking Bad Theory: How Walt Could've Gotten Away With It by Pretending to be Gay (Spoilers for the Entire Show)

Okay this has been on my mind for AWHILE. Since I was still watching season 5. Walter White could have potentially convinced (or at least given an alibi to) Hank that he wasn't Heisenberg by saying that he liked men. Particularly, Gale.

So, to set up the scene in Season 5 where Hank finds the Walt Whitman book and then connects all the dots to Walter. Walt goes and confronts him about the missing book, and Hank admits he figured out Walt is Heisenberg. Instead of going with it, Walt could have said this story:

He was bi. Or at least bicurious. Gale was one of his lovers. His whole life he had pushed down his attraction to men, but the cancer gave him a crisis because he believed that it was the end for him. So, thinking he was going to die soon, he started experimenting with this attraction with men. His whole "fugue state" was just another part of that crisis, he spent that time out of town talking to various different guys. Trying to figure himself out. This was always his reason for the two phones. And maybe he met Gale during his fugue state, or maybe it was a bit later. But either way, Walt could say they ended up getting involved.

He had absolutely no idea that Gale was involved in the meth business. He thought he was just a failed potential mind for science like himself. So when he found out that Gale was dead, and that they found those lab notes basically confessing to the crime-- he was shocked. It was hard to believe. He didn't say anything because he was ashamed of being gay. He was scared that Gale could have been shot as a hate crime, as well as if he told the truth that Hank would be homophobic to him: something he just couldn't handle since he was already experiencing so much in his life. He already lost a lover, he didn't want to lose his family too. Plus, it is already known that Walt has a huge ego and is extremely prideful, he could play into that if he thought to.

And the best part is, this would make a lot of sense. It would explain the fugue state, the second phone, his issues with Skyler-- Walt's weird behavior in general. Hank already thought he was having an affair, so why not go ahead and confirm it but with a twist Hank couldn't have expected? The time that Walt got drunk after Gale died could be explained as him grieving, and his saying that he didn't think Gale was Heisenberg could be explained off as denial that his lover could be the mastermind behind the Heisenberg case.

And Gale isn't exactly the text book example of a heterosexual man. Nah, he's gay as hell honestly. And that little note in his notes about W.W. being his shining star and perfect silence, could definitely be interpreted as a love note. And hey, the notes already had random stuff like doodles and brownie recipes so why not add other unrelated stuff like love notes in it?

His gift of the Walt Whitman book to Walter could also help support this. Walt Whitman was speculated to be homosexual or bisexual, particularly because of his poetry. Walter could totally explain the gift as a symbol of their relationship, especially with the note "to my other favorite W.W."

Anyways thank you for coming to my ted talk, I guess it was never meant to be though since Walter White's stupid ass pride would never allow him to go with this. But it's interesting how well it would have worked, and honestly I do think Gale did have some sort of feelings for him. Tbh. Because that Walt Whitman thing and the love note and just Gale being Gale in general is very compelling evidence to me.

But yeah, I guess this is just another example of how if Walter's ego and pride got in the way, and how he could have made a lot smarter moves and would have been able to keep himself going if he wasn't so stupid about that pride. Another example of how ego destroys intelligence.

[pekasairroc]

Tagged by @sinfulauthor

1. Were you named after anyone?

My mom used to have a friend named Holly who remarked how she always loved her name. I have been repeatedly assured I was not named after Big Hol.

2. When was the last time you cried?

Christmas Day when Ed’s parrot Azul died :(

3. Do you have kids?

Nah

4. What sports do you play/have you played?

As a kiddy kid I did a lot of sports for a season or two (soccer, basketball) or several summers (softball) but I fenced foil for a few years and later on did some cross country. I would like to get back into fencing but would need to find a casual club that’s a good fit and change from a French grip to a Pistol grip due to hand hurty

5. Do you use sarcasm?

Often, but I prefer deadpan understatements.

6. What's the first thing you notice about people?

Currently it’s whether they have a flu shot badge at work and then if they’re masking (mandatory if they don’t have the shot, highly encouraged regardless). I have had to do so many audits and trying not to STARE at people’s badges and lower faces due to exposures at work.

7. What's your eye color?

Blueish gray green. Aka blue.

8. Scary movies or happy endings?

9. Any talents?

I can make myself and others stop hiccuping on command.

10. Where were you born?

Chicago suburbs

11. What are your hobbies?

Lots of art, writing, sewing, and crafting is what I usually tell people without getting into the details.

12. Do you have any pets?

No, but once I figure out the petsitting situation I would love to get two rats. I am not actively figuring out the petsitting situation.

Look, it’s one thing to ask a big group if someone could watch a cat for a weekend and it’s easy af to find a dog sitter but it’s hard to ask people to feed and clean up for two rats. It just is.

13. How tall are you?

5’8”

14. Favorite subject in school?

Latin. Languages in general.

15. Dream job?

I sit as the creative head of a production company. Is it animation? Is it comics? Video games? Doesn’t matter. I explain to the group in the room ideas for stories and they wait with bated breath to the finish. They applaud. Standing ovation is implied. They set to work on making my visions and stories and characters a reality with far more technical artistic skill than I personally have but 100% under my 100% perfect creative direction. The story is an international hit. Millions adore these stories and characters and are impacted in their life in a positive way, always remembering these little tales and being so normal about them. I live a quiet life in a cute little house drawing silly doodles when I’m not drafting the next story— and let’s be real, I don’t need to draft since it’s perfect and easy from the start— and give Q&As where no one asks dumb questions and everyone perfectly understands and respects my vision and desire to not tell certain details but listens spellbound for every tangent I go on about the history of one line or a part I thought was funny. Everyone leaves me alone but radiates in my storytelling prowess and is inspired in turn. Me and my characters are forever remembered in the realms of history.

That's not what you meant by “dream job?” Well, I actually like my infection control job and the parts I dislike are the parts that suck for all regulatory jobs. Love 2 tell people to wash their hands.

[jamieedlund]

So we know your thoughts about Aaravos and Callum, what are your thoughts about the Mage fam?

I haven't thought of them in a long time and also I had no idea what mage fam meant until you told me it's team rocket I mean claud sore and lord virginia's family wheezes

Um... Huh.... I don't know if I wanna make this another lengthy answer so I'll do my best to make it brief...

Keep reading if you're ready to see me lose my sanity again. If not then just look at this cute Cally and Aary doodle of them trash talking "someone" You know you love them.

1. I will never understand viren's motivation nor do I love him as a character. . . Actually nah... "do not love" is still putting it very mildly. I despises the cartoony villain vibe that they wrote for him. I think he coulda been a better written villain but I just...hmgggggg the writing pisses me off. I would be smiling with genuine happiness if he's dead for real this season. I see no appeal in him. Fuck that guy.

2.Claud...

I sorta? understand her...but i feel like I don't ...like her as much as I should...Is it the gas lighting...? Is it the very cringe romance they wrote for her and Cally? Is it just something part of her personality that I don't...like??? No idea. I read something here about how she was murdered as a character (albeit I don't really notice it but if you say so I suppose???) I'll tell you what though I really wanna see her becoming the main villain of the show. She will be a very compelling villain in my opinion. It's all gonna be super fun with her.

#freeaaravosfrombeingcalledavillainofthiscursedshow

Also they missed out the chance to do what is in my opinion one of the most interesting dynamic in this entire show: Raydia.

I'm not a huge fan of shipping nor do I go around spilling things about ships but I see so much potential in these two it's baffling like why didn't the writers go for this duo? They'd be fun as heck girlfriends - or just besties for now if romance isn't on the table yet WHICH I DON'T CARE FOR EITHER WAY, just give them a chance man.

They have so much to play off each other like daddy issues, their own very strong views the world, that sweet sweet enemies to besties/lovers trope is going on strong here. PLUS THEY'RE SUPER DUPER GOOD AT WHAT THEY DO AND IT'S AMAZING. Like bruh callum was BARELY an enemy they're like chill after 2 days I cannot --- *face palm* anyways... She's semi wasted in that aspect.

Soreeeeee-n

By far the only character in this show that hasn't been a running mouth piece for the writers very bad, overly-simplified view of good and evil

(except for that one episode in season 3 where he's like "someone who tell you to do something bad and convince you it's good is a villain" like woah woah woah woah hold the phone okayyyyyyy this line applies to viren and VIREN only. Because in the context of Aaravos the man just really wanna get tf outta jail does ANY OF YOU KNOW WHAT IT FEELS LIKE TO BE LOCKED IN FOR 300 YEARS?! uh nope cause YOU WOULD HAVE DIED A LONG TIME AGO AFTER LOOSING YOUR DAMN MIND. So to me when he says this it felt like the writers are putting words into his mouth and trying to foreshadow or tell the viewers that oh yea aaravos is TOTALLYY A VILLAIN NO- like fuck that shit ohmygod - if it's been 300 years and the only way out you can see is feeding to a terrible man's ego in order to get him to do what you need YOU FUCKING TAKE IT. That doesn't make you a villain that makes you more of an enabler. AND IT'S NOT LIKE HE CAN DO ANYTHING ABOUT IT IF VIREN CHOSE TO NOT LISTEN TO HIM SO POINT. AARAVOS. I can think of like 5 different ways where Cally can turn the situation viren was put in with aaravos into something fun, wholesome AND DEFINITELY WOULD NOT FRAME AARAVOS AS A BAD PERSON AT ALL fuck-)

hasn't received arguably a lot of special treatments in order to make him look good and is the only character I understand the most. He's overall well-written and I love him very much. I think he should receive more love and be appreciated a bit more by the people around him. Most of his action makes sense to me and that is all I need to put him as my most favorite canonically speaking.

[beakeoghan]

i'll be your fantasy

Summary: George has been helping Peter and Mr. Dawson maintain Moonstone, their trusty boat. Before making the biggest decision of his life, he had some time to think about what it truly means to love and to be loved.

Warnings: Mentions of death due to character’s fate on the story, fluff moments of love, inspiration taken from the song truly, madly, deeply covered by Yoke Lore.

Word count: 2.4K

A/N: Hello everyone! So, as you can see per my username, I’m a big Barry Keoghan fan and one of my favorite characters of his is George from Dunkirk (2017). I’ve searched for a while and couldn’t really find that many writings of this boy, so I wrote one for myself and decided to share it here because I think it turned out sweet and comforting. That’s it! I hope at least one of you likes it!

George saw you coming back from school, gently pedaling on your pastel blue bike. The breeze was running through your hair, the sun lightly making your face blush from the heat. Sometimes he thought you looked like his favorite song — the personification of what peacefulness felt like.

A sheen of red burned his cheeks when he realized you saw him peeping out of the window. You kindly wave at him, a burst of small laughter escaping your lips. He opens the front door to greet you, but not before adjusting his vest and white shirt collar. He was on his way to meet you, after all. He had to look good.

“Hi Georgie,” you say, parking your bike on the spot right next to your house’s fence. “Didn’t show up to class today.” Again.

“You know, didn’t feel like it.” He chuckles, eyes squinting a bit to avoid the sun. “My dad says that I never do anything in my life, so I thought I’d help Mr. Dawson and Peter with their boat. Been coming back and forth from there now.”

“That’s quite nice. I would probably rather join you than go to school myself.” You see the boy blush with an awkward grin on his face. He was loving those little interactions you would both share on afternoons, and he also couldn’t help but cherish the fact that you noticed every time he didn’t show up in school. “I can pass you the homework afterward if you’re still up for that.”

“Nah, that’s okay. It’s not like I’m going to do it anyway.” But as soon as he realizes what it meant to have you passing him homework, he starts fidgeting with his fingers. He wants to spend time with you, whether it was doing homework or helping your fix the peddles of your bicycle, he wanted to be on your side. “But erm… I think it would be nice. Maybe we can go to the docks? I know you like to study by the sea.”

Well, you didn’t know he knew that. He smiled at you, softly, as you nodded in response. “I would love to, Georgie.” Your smile seemed to flourish the butterflies on his stomach. “Let me just freshen up a bit, and I’ll meet you back here.”

Sometimes Peter and he would be fixing something on the boat or helping with the cracks opening on the dock. The sea smell cuddled him up, he felt relaxed and at ease when suddenly Peter would gaze at you, sitting on the edge of the street, legs going back and forth, and he would pat George on the back. It’s your girl, he used to say. With the sun going down, just a flicker of orange light delicately patting your face, he admired from afar. Always with a heavy book on hand and pen, writing or doodling. He loved that view.

And ever since he got the courage to talk to you, he didn’t mention it once, but now it seemed the right time to. There you were, smiling at him with tenderness, little wrinkles forming on the corners of your eyes like you would do when genuinely having a good time. He didn’t even know a smile could bring so much warmth to his heart.

That sounded more and more like a date and he wanted you to think that too.

****

Just a couple of minutes passed, and while you were getting ready, you felt the sudden urge to get him something. Maybe something sweet, or perhaps a basket of little muffins, you thought. But you didn’t have that much time to buy those — you’d have to go to the bakery on the corner, and since it was afternoon already, the treats wouldn’t be fresh out of the oven. You paced a little bit by yourself in your room, curiously watching the front yard of the house behind the vanilla-colored curtains, to see if he was already expecting you there. Then you saw little flowers blooming right next to the fence, a couple of burning-red roses, which you thought were perfect for the occasion.

The odds were that he would never understand right away, because why would he? But your mom always said that the red roses symbolize romance, love, and passion, everything you desperately wanted George to feel from you. The truth is, when he did go to school, you always paid close attention to him. He was either drawing on his notebook or snoozing in between classes, but you also caught a glimpse now and then of his kindness towards his classmates, the professors, and the lunch lady.

It was the little things that made you flustered in his presence. The small pieces of generosity he chose to give away. The gentle smile, the need to be that person. And every time you entered a room, you would scan around quickly, searching for him and his eyes.

On the house next door, George was rehearsing. After those months when all he could do was give you little compliments in class, or help you when your bike got a little rusty from time to time, he was finally able to spend more time with you and get to know you. He thought about asking you on a date, officially. He did even save up some money from his part-time jobs to afford a decent café or something like that. But well, maybe today was the day he could approach you and tell you how he felt. How his heart almost gives up when he sees you, how his mouth dries out, and although you provoked those types of feelings, he would also feel blissful. Optimistic. Like spending a whole day on the beach, bathing in sunlight, having ice cream and walking on the fluffy sand.

****

With the flowers wrapped with silk paper, you stood sitting on the wood bench in front of your house. Your feet were swinging in the air, not touching the floor.

“Ready to go?” His slightly raspy voice caught your attention — he had a cheeky smile on his face. “Who are those for?” George asked innocently.

“Ah, these are for you!” You answered, promptly standing up, dusting off imaginary dirt on the hem of your dress. “I just… wanted to give you something. And, boys never get flowers, but they should.” You stuttered behind your smile.

Why didn’t he think of giving YOU flowers? His reaction was almost immediate, gently taking the few roses you’ve perfectly arranged.

“That’s really sweet, I’m sorry I didn’t get you anything, I -” Before he continued, your hand reached for his other one, resting by his side. Your fingers touched before completing the embrace between them. The words didn’t come through as he blushed, but he squeezed your hand, comforting himself in the process. “I’ve never gotten flowers before.”

You just nodded with a mellow smile completing your face. His hand felt perfect on yours, the slight grip making your heart pound. If only he could feel what you were feeling.

But he was feeling it. If there were any doubts in his head that you felt the same way, they were long gone. Your hands together were the most perfect assurance he could think of.

The walk until the dock was filled with laughter, little talks, gentle strokes from his fingers on yours, and mostly, the sentiment of being at home. In safe heaven where you could say anything and be anything. He definitely felt more and more comfortable speaking, as you would hope to.

As you finally reached the beach, you sat down on the little wood ramp that guided people to the sand. It was comfortable enough for both of you to share the spot for yourselves.

“I wanted to ask you something.” He said after a moment of silence. You were taking in the breeze coming from the ocean ahead of you, eyes shut, breathing at a calming pace. He didn’t want to disturb your peace, but at the same time, he wanted to do this right. “Love, I’m bad with words, hopefully, you’re good at reading eyes?”

As he said it, you turned your gaze to him. His deep blue eyes seemed to be humming affection towards you, you felt it shifting between your eyes and your lips. He was so close, you could almost taste his scent. It’s like you could lose track of time just by being there with him.

“Yes?” You couldn’t help but mimic his gaze.

“I’ve always felt a little out of place. I didn’t have much interest in my life, never really made my father proud of me, I guess.” His laughter sounded more like a whisper. “But I always wanted to make something out of it.”

“Maybe appear on the local newspaper and such.” You said observingly with a weak smile. You remember he said that on the way over here.

“Yeah, maybe.” He reached for one lock of hair falling out of place, keeping it behind your ear. “Do something meaningful, have a family.” As he said the last part, you could swear you felt his demeanor shift from an already kind to a more loving one.

“I would like that too.” You said, interlocking your hand on his. “But sometimes we are dreaming too much when we should be living in the moment. I would love to have my fantasies come true, but I can’t count on it anytime soon.”

“I’ll be your fantasy.” His groggy voice was getting a hold of him. He didn’t know if it was the beach, being there with you, having received flowers, but he felt enough courage to say whatever his heart wanted him to. “I’ll be your dream, I’ll be your wish and be anything that you need.”

He said he wasn’t good with words. Liar.

His promises didn’t seem empty, though. He seemed genuine, almost pleading to be heard. To be loved, to be cared for.

It sounded like a confession with a twist as if you were exchanging vows in the presence of the highest powers. You hoped for love, and you could never think that love was shaped like this. A boy with bright eyes, a gentle smile, and a warm heart. And yet, there he was, the embodiment of love. And he felt the same way about you.

Your pretty little vows were sealed with a kiss. A deep and passionate one, one that lingered for less time than you wished for. If you could, you would never leave his embrace and your head would forever be leaning on his chest. It fit so perfectly, you wouldn’t have even dreamed of it.

He couldn’t bring himself to let you go, his forehead touching yours, happiness radiating from his whole body. You were quite amused how his posture changed from one moment to the other — he was so much more relaxed right now.

“Do you want to go on a date with me? Officially?" He took your hand and placed a kiss, then lifted his eyes to look at you.

“Of course,” you laughed. “I thought it was pretty clear that I want to go on this adventure with you.”

“What adventure, love?” His head tumbled to the side.

“Life, Georgie. Life!” Your voice was so clearly excited. Your arms opened up, wiggling to the sides, reaching for a hug.

“If this is life, then I want to live like this forever,” he laughed, imitating your gestures, letting your face lean into his neck. “Until the skies fall down over me.”

“Such a lovable dramatic person, aren’t you? Didn’t know this side of yours.”

“It’s ‘cause you bring the most sensible side of me.” He responded, looking down at you. Arms still wrapping you up. “My pretty girl.”

****

He left you on the front of the gate of your house, even though he would have to circle back to the dock to meet Moonstone, Mr. Dawson, and Peter, for the last tasks of maintenance of the boat. He didn’t want you to go home by yourself, so he escorted you back.

“There you go,” he said, placing a smooch on your cheek. “See you later tonight?”

“Tonight, it’s a date.” You cupped his face, slowly stroking his chin, bringing him closer for a kiss.

The red roses were left with you as well as he asked if you could put them on a vase. You told him they would die eventually but he didn’t care — as long as they were alive, he wanted to keep it.

The hours without him only reminded you of how precious the times with him were. Gosh, you were only seventeen, you were allowed to miss him and long for him. Your lives together had only started.

****

The next day, another no-show. He didn’t come home last night, he wasn’t anywhere to be found by you. A knock on your door made your heart beat faster than a bullet leaving a gun, and when you heard what the person standing in front of you told you, it was like an actual bullet had breached through your chest.

“He died on the boat,” Mr. Dawson said. “He fell, knocked his head down on the floor and that was it.” The bag under his eyes showed signs of sadness and exhaustion.

“How did you know,” you were swallowing tears forming in your eyes. “How did you know that I was expecting him?”

“He said it,” Peter said as he stood behind his dad. His voice was low, he had been crying. “He said that he finally understood love… and he said your name.”

“You were important to him, please know that. Don’t forget him.”

Peter’s words echoed in your head when you saw Georgie again.

He was there. Well, his photo was. Printed in the newspaper with his school uniform and a sweet smile.

“Local Boy,

George Mills,

Just 17,

Hero at Dunkirk”.

“I won’t ever forget.” You thought to yourself.

Now and then you would go back to the dock. You’ve cut that photo of him from the newspaper since you hadn’t had any other, and carried it in your wallet. Days became months, and months became years, longing for a love that was so pure, you couldn’t understand what sick joke the universe had planned out for you.

Yet, you were partially happy that on his last day on Earth, he was able to feel love. He felt your love, your touch, and he was content. His laughter sounded so much more bright and his eyes showered you with so much endearment. You could hardly shake that feeling out of you.

In the end, he got what he wanted. To be remembered as relevant and significant. His dad was finally proud.

And as to you, he was a memory to be remembered forever with fondness. The boy that wanted to marry you, to be your love, your wish, your fantasy. To be anything that you needed.

A/N: Hi! Thank you if you read until the end! This is my first fic posted in here :) Feedback is much appreciated, feel free to tell me your thoughts (even if you think it sucks!!). Also, apologize for any writing errors! Aaand, the song that inspired me to write!

[flirtlixie]

Proposed by a Demon Lord ; Yuta x Reader

Chapter 4

previous ; next

Warnings! : Mentions of food, tea

Words : 1217

Notes : merry christmas! <3

( tag list : @vitaminbtob ; @foreverstaytinyzen-skzxatinyxnct ) if you wanna be in (or out) the taglist just send me an ask ;) <3

Class with Haechan wasn't actually much of a class. Haechan had a book opened and explained the things on it freely. "so? was it difficult?" "hmm, nah. it was okay" "smarter that i thought" Haechan stared at me in amazement

"to be honest, Haechan don't like these" and Haechan threw the history book at the corner of the room "ha, ahaha..." "break for 10 minutes!" he stretched his arms in the air, and leaned on the back of the chair (ha.. hahah.. who am i...? where am i...?)

"but, don't you have anything you want to know?" Haechan asked "hmm, what i want to know..." (how to return to my world.) but surely, Haechan wouldn't know the way, so i closed my mouth (will i be able to run away?) there may be a way to return to my world once i get outside this castle. when my thought reached that point, a plan started to roll out in front of my eyes.

"hmm, maybe the structure of this castle? i think i should at least know the ways to move around here". the ultimate plan was to get a hold of this castle's map, and run "hmm...." Haechan seemed to be deep in thoughts. "what is it?" "nah, it's just what Lord said. Yuta told me not to let you outside the castle" (whoa, Yuta is quite concerned about it... do i look like a runaway? well... though i do intent to run...) "but well, i guess this won't matter" when Haechan twirled his finger lightly, a piece of parchment appeared "here. it's a map" (there should be a way out if i see it close enough...) "...wh-what's this?" i couldn't help myself but to shout in surprise. The map was full of pictogram-like words (strange... i could understant everything on the book...)

It was a strange thing, but i could understand the languages of this wolrd. but the words on this map was impossible to understand "is this a drawing, or a doodle...? how am i supposed to read this?" "oh, this? of course you can't" "what?" i was dumbfounded at his words "it's the ancient language" "ancient... language?" "yeap. i think Yuta wrote it himself. you know, to keep the castle structure from being exposed even if the map falls int the wrong hands...? but! Haechan can read it. tee-hee~!"

(Is he... teasing me...?) i slowly opened my mouth pressing the frustration inside "but-, phew-, i can't read it this way" "hmm, but i don't think i'm supposed to help others to read it since Yuta wrote this way himself..." (oh no, my grand plan to take a run...) i burried my face into my hands in despair."...well, fine. Yuta never got mad at Haechan so, it'd be okay..."

When Haechan twirled his finger once more, the map started to emit a bright light. "now, place your hand-..." then Haechan suddenly stopped his words "hey." "huh?" "you're not planning to run away, are you?" (th-that smile... it's creepy...) insted of replying, i nodded my head "alright. place your hand over the map. i'll cast and enchantment so you could understantd the words if you're worthy." i couldn't understand what he meant, but i eagerly placed my hand "wow..."

it was a strange experience. words slowly sepped into my brain and spread to my boyd "oh, i see it now." the doodles on the map started to look like languages "this is amazing!" "well, it's not a difficult magic"

leaving Haechan shrugging behind, i started to memorize the map. (scape route, escape route...) i searched for the closest escape route from my room. ( ah, found one.) there was a door leading to outside at the and of a curved corridor ( but what should i do after i get outside the castle?! meh, is this plan a failure...?) as i was letting out a sigh, i spotted something name 'teleport point' "Haechan, what's this 'teleport point'?" "oh, that? you just stand there and you'll be teleported to some other places. i think that's for other Lords to use. that teleport point will lead to... hmm.. probably the desser cave leading to the human world"

(!!!)

i quickly memorized the teleport point's location (great! i can go home, now!!) my heart started to fill up with hope "Haechan." "oopsie." as i was about to look at the point once more, "who told you to teach her this?" Yuta suddenly appeared and snatched away the map. "i'm sorry Yuta."

Haechan apoligized with an expression and voice which didn't look apologetic at all "well, that's fine" Yuta snapped his fingers and the map disappeared to nowhere "y/n" Yuta slowly called my name "you-, are not running away, are you?" "...." i couln't breathe, as if i was standing before a predator "o-of course not-" i barely let my voice out "good. then-" Yuta looked around and smiled "let's go have snacks!" Yuta's aura changed completely "what?" "snacks? this old man needs to fill up some sugar"

Yuta made his usual drowsy face and replied (really... i can never understand his true nature...) "yay, snack time! snack time!" Haechan jumped up and down in joy and headed outside with Yuta. i traced back on the map in my mind once more (... but... i want to go home.) "yn, what are you doing?" "oh, i'm coming!" i hurriedly got up from the seat when Yuta called for me

"oh yay, i love it! snack time~" Haechan scooped up a spoon full of cake, humming joyfully "it's beautiful here" "well, it may not be as pretty as the eastern castle's garden, but this garden's not so bad either" Yuta replied with a slightly proud smile. we were in the middle of a tea house, with a garden full of tropical trees and fruits "i thought you were too lazy for breakfast? how come you care to have a tea time?" "when you come this age, you can't do anything if you're low in sugar." he protested calmly. and shoved two macarons into his mouth at once "ah, handkerchief"

a servant nearby instantly brought him a white handkerchief (... so many of them.) the tea house was full of maids, waiting for Yuta's order (... i don't think i can digest well... it was much more comfortable with no one around me...) i felt intimidated with dozens of eyes staring at me eating "why aren't you eating? you were pouring the stew into your mouth earlier" "it's just... i've never eaten like this, surrounded by so many people" "hmm" Yuta snapped his fingers "all of you, wait inside the castle" instantly, all the servants disappeared into thin air "are you fine without any servants?" "well, it could be a little discomforting-" Yuta shrugged his shoulders, and poured some tea into his tea cup himself "but i don't wanna make you uncomfortable" "..."

(wow, i'm actually a bit touched.) i felt grateful for his kindness "oops, i spilt it" Yuta who was blankly pouring the tea, eventually spilt it "oi, i need my handker- right, i dismissed them" "hey lord, you look so stupid, haha." "who are you calling stupid? i just forget for a sec" (... would this guy be okay?) i let out a deep sigh. it was a sigh tangled with both worries and doubts

[duvetsandpillows]

Lucky One

Pete Davidson x Reader 

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Swearing, mention of needles, slight angst, drug use

A/N: This is my first Pete fic but I think I will definitely be writing more. Please let me know what you think!

I sat in bed, joint in one hand, lighter in the other. I’d been staring at the wall for the past half hour or so, drowning in my thoughts, forgetting the joint I’d been fiddling with was there to be smoked.

I was thinking about everything and nothing all at once. Have I taken my antidepressant? What do they do with the bagel holes? You’re gonna be alone forever. Don’t forget your earring is behind the back left leg of the desk. New thoughts beginning before the last one could end. I was exhausted yet I hadn’t done anything to warrant feeling so drained. I’d only left my bed to piss.

“Hey you home?” I glanced over at my door, reality setting back in, before realizing how messy my bed was; sketchbook and pencils scattered everywhere, weed crumbs and ash from not paying attention to what I was doing and empty monster cans. I kicked as much as I could off the end of the bed before putting the long forgotten joint to my lips and sparking it. The door slowly opened, Pete standing in the doorway holding a bag and a coffee.

“Whatcha doing in bed B?” he asked climbing into the bed handing me the coffee. I took a toke and thanked him while passing him the joint.

“I just don’t feel like moving. I feel like shit, my brain won’t stop for just a second. I just want everything to stop.” My voice breaking as I began to fight back tears. He blew smoke into the air, putting his arm around my shoulder, pulling me into his side, handing me the joint.

“Breathe B, you’re gonna be okay. I know that sounds like bullshit but I’m here to help you through it.” I took a take and wiped a stray tear from my eye. “It’s always been me and you hasn’t it, that’s not gonna stop now. Did you take your antidepressant today?”

“I can’t remember,” I squeaked, letting the tears win the battle. Pete put his other arm around my chest and squeezed tight, resting his hand on the back of my head and rubbing his thumb.

He would whisper little pick me-ups every few minutes while I cried. “At least you didn’t walk straight into a street light like I did.” I looked up to see him pointing to a small bruise on his forehead. “I saw a woman carrying a dog in a baby sling thing and then boom! Street Light.” I giggled before taking a deep breath and wiping my tears with my sleeves.

“I guess you could say she threw you off your rhythm.” He rolled his eyes and pushed my head playfully before chuckling.

We’d been friends practically our whole lives, yet it was rare for us to talk about deep shit. Not because we didn’t care but we were good at talking each others minds off all the bullshit. 

“Movie, smoke, munch? I brought gushers and twizzlers.”

“Only if I get to pick.”

“Obviously, you always pick.” I scoffed and sat up, rolling my eyes.

“Bullshit, we constantly watching The Mule.”

“Not my fault you can’t appreciate a masterpiece,” he said as he grabbed my rolling tray from the end of the bed and I began flicking through Netflix for something to watch.

“Your hair looks nice by the way,” he mumbled, eyes focused on rolling the joint. I glanced over at my reflection in the mirror, I looked as if I’d just climbed out of the hedge. I smiled and thanked him, deciding to put on Knocked Up.

Pete told me what he’d been up to all week and who the guests were gonna be while we watched the film. I made him a twizzler ring and he attempted to make me a bracelet but he couldn’t work out how to get the knot to stay tight.” After a couple more joints I sat up on my knees and faced him.

“Could... I maybe colour in your tattoos?” I asked, placing my hand on his leg to stay balanced, realizing how high I was after not moving for so long.

“Yeah of course, which one first?” I smiled and pointed to the unicorn on his arm and leant off the end of the bed to grab my pens, Pete grabbing hold of my foot as I almost fell off. After I’d finished the unicorn I moved onto the direwolf underneath. Pete was flicking through the pages of my sketchbook as I added icy blue to the eyes.

“Y’know,” he started, passing me a joint, “I reckon you could be a tattoo artist. You could even practice on me.” I stopped and looked at him a bit taken back.

“I’ve never thought about it before.”

“Maybe you should.”

Once I finished the direwolf I looked up to see Pete had dozed off, I smiled and pulled a blanket over him, moving the sketchbook off his lap. I rolled a joint and glanced at the open drawing of a group of clouds I’d been working on but hadn’t yet worked out what should accompany them.

I thought about what Pete said and picked up the sketchbook and a pencil. I smoked while drawing Frank the bunny’s head from Donnie Darko. It was my favourite film and Pete had watched it with me countless times.

After an hour or so I finished the outline and most of the infill with different shades of blue. I felt Pete roll over and put his arm across my lap. I looked down to see him, eyes half open, observing my drawing.

“That’s amazing.” His voice gruff and low.

“Thank you,” I said passing him a monster from my bedside table. He sat up partially and took a sip before handing it back to me. “Good nap?” He nodded and laid back down into my side.

“You should put that on me,” He kicked his leg out from under the blanket and pointed to the side of his thigh. “Here would be perfect.”

“If you’d like.” He sat up again and gently tore the sketch out of the book.

“Come on then.” I frowned and tilted my head slightly. “There’s a guy that could do this now, you could get one too?”

I stared at him in a bit of shock, not expecting him to actually want one of my pieces on his body. I thought he was saying it just to be nice. Also as I’d never considered getting a tattoo before. Not because I didn’t like them but more because I was nervous; I wasn’t great with needles and if tattoo’s would suit me.

“You up for it?”

“What if I look awful with one?” I blurted, Pete’s smile morphed into confusion.

“Why would you look awful?” You always look great.” I could feel my cheeks getting warm and I couldn’t help but ever so slightly smile. “Plus I think you’d look hot with one,” he mumbled handing me the sketchbook, open to a small drawing of a sheep I’d done high while watching Shaun the Sheep.

“It’s small, if you want it to be hidden then it’s easy.” I looked down at the doodle and thought about it for a moment.

“Fuck it lets go.”

I sat on a chair next to Pete watching as the tattoo artist, Jon, carefully traced over the light purple outline in dark blue ink. I began adding to my sheep. A few clouds in the background, similar to the ones on Pete’s.

“What you doing?” I handed him the paper, glancing over at his leg, in awe at how it was turning out. I looked back at Pete who was smiling at the drawing. I held out the pencil to him, when he didn’t notice I poked his arm with it.

“Ow, dick,” he said pouting and rubbing his arm. “What am I meant to do with this?”

“Add something to it, you got a piece of me,” I pointed to his leg. “Your turn.”

“I can’t draw like you and-”

“And I don’t care. Draw.”

While Pete drew, not phased at all by the needle going in and out of his leg, I chatted with Jon, asking him question about how he became a tattoo artist and what it’s like. I was slowly becoming more interested the more I watched him work. Once he was done he turned to me.

“You ready?” he asked, I nodded nervously and Pete passed him the design. Pete swapped places with me after taking a look at it in the floor length mirror. I decided to get it on my arm as I decided I wanted to always be able to see it now Pete had added to it. I told them I didn’t want to see it until it was finished, wanting Pete’s addition to be a surprise. I looked over at Pete, nerves starting to kick in a little.

“Have I ever told you I’m not brilliant with needles?” He chuckled and took my hand in his.

“Yep,” I winced as the needle hit my skin. “Like the time you gave blood because you thought that nurse was cute and threw up all over him before fainting.” I chuckled before biting the inside of my cheek and gripped his hand tight. “You’re good, just keep your eyes this way,”

Pete kept chatting with me and rubbing his thumb on the back of my hand, keeping me distracted from the pain.

“Should I be nervous with what you drew? It’s just clicked how much trust I’ve given you.” He pursed his lips, holding back either as smile or a laugh. “Pete...”

“Nah nah nah, it’s not that bad, but you said to add a bit of me. Trust me you’ll love it.” I raised my eyebrows before gripping his hand again, feeling a muscle in my arm unintentionally spasm.

“You’re good, it happens sometimes, we’re almost done here.”

After ten more minutes it was all done and he was wiping it up. It was aching it a little but I was really excited to see it.

“You ready to see it?” I nodded and looked at my arm to see the best tattoo I could imagine. The clouds were a beautiful combination of greys and whites, my sheep now with a spliff in its mouth and a second, slightly wonky looking, sheep with a spliff also in its mouth and sunglasses on. It kind of looked like a child drew the second sheep but I loved it even more for that.

“I put our initials at the bottom so we don’t forget who is who.” I giggled looking at his scruffy handwriting underneath. “So... what do you think?”

“I fucking love it!” I said wrapping my arms around him hugging him as tight as I could. “Thank you Pete.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek and let Jon wrap my arm up in cling film.

We grabbed some Taco Bell on the way home, I was designated DJ and he driver. I was, questionably, rapping along to Colson and Corpse’s new song while Pete laughed at me. He slipped his hand into mine, giving it a small squeeze and continued driving and started rapping along as if that was a normal for us to hold hands. I smiled and gave his a squeeze back even though I was a bit shocked. Shocked but yet it felt normal.

“You can roll the next one, my arm aches,” I said flopping onto my bed.

“Is that gonna be your excuse for the next week?” 

“Did it work?” I looked up to see him shaking his head and chuckling as he picked up the rolling tray.

“You’re lucky you’re cute.” I smiled and winked as it sat up. 

“You’re lucky too, you get to look at this cute face all the time.” Pete leant forward and took my hand, pulling me into his lap.

“What would you say, if I asked you out... to dinner or something?” I wrapped my arms around his neck and furrowed my eyebrows.

“What like a date?” His smile and confidence drained from his face immediately and I had to force myself to hold back a laugh.

“It doesn’t have to be no, I just- aw fuck.” I started pissing myself laughing, holding onto him tight to keep my balance.

“Yes I’d love to go on a date, if you hurry up and roll that joint, I teased winking at him, swinging myself off his lap. “I’ll even put on The Mule yeah?”

“I’m definitely the lucky one.”