#it's such a lame fic but uh | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

ultralightpoe · 1 month ago

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JUNO - Bucky Barnes

Authors Note: Gah, here we go again with the bucky fics since he looked so damn good in that trailer! Enjoy!

Word Count: 4215

Warnings: SMUT SMUT SMUT.....and more smut.

Requests: OPEN

Main Masterlist ~ ~ Halloween 2024 Event

[Thank you for the gif @ayo-edebiri ]

Enjoy!

“Don't have to tell your hot ass a thing

Oh yeah, you just get it

Whole package, babe, I like the way you fit

God bless your dad's genetics, mm, uh”

You were a terrible terrible person, this was a fact. It would be put on whatever wikipedia page they made for villains as soon as people figured it out, which considering the rage building in your body would be any moment now. Why were you a terrible person? That’s easy to explain.

There was a time where everyone avoided your boyfriend like the plague, when the Winter Soldier cliche had been stuck to his image like a nail in a tire and everyone treated him like crap. And who stayed by his side? You. Not that it was ever about keeping score because you just wanted what was best for him. But now that people are all about kissing his ass since he had some new found fame? You wished things would go back to the way they were. And that made you a terrible person.

Who would want things to go back when your love was treated terribly?

But then you see girls like Montana clinging to his side and that little green monster in the pit of your stomach begins growing and growing until it leads to moments like now, with you standing at the bar clutching your glass like it was the only thing tethering you to this earth.

Yet another gala was being thrown, this time it was ‘Rockstars for Schooling Funds’ and Bucky was required to attend for PR. And attend your man did. The jacket, the tie, the pushed back hair and the hot ass glare.

From the second you saw him ready for tonight you were ready to pull him into the bedroom and never leave, your skin grew hot just remembering the feeling of his hands roaming your body as you tried to lead him into the bedroom. He obviously didn’t fall for it and now you were here watching Montana hold onto his arm as she laughed at something he said.

As if sensing your glare he turns to catch your eye, and you know that he was surveying your safety by the sharp look in his eyes and all you can think was ‘God bless your dads genetics’. But you refuse to break for him, so you shrug and turn back to the bar ready to order yourself another drink.

Best thing about wearing a dress like the one you were wearing tonight? Attention. Within seconds the men at the bar were clamoring to buy you a drink, crooked smiles and lame pick up lines. The prized contender? The southern man with kind eyes wearing his very own black cowboy hat.

This could be fun.

“What’ll it be?” He drawls and you have to fight off the blush filling your cheeks just at the sound of it.

“Hmm, I haven't decided yet.” You flirt, batting your lashes for a second. “Think you can help a girl out?”

“There’s the ‘Save a Horse, Ride a Cowboy’.” He reads off the little menu, looking up to you from under his hat, giving a smooth wink and you huff out a small laugh.

“Would it be worth my time?”

“It’s the best on the menu from what I can see.” As if on cue you both look out to the crowd around you at the gala, with loud music and cheesy rockstar costumes, and whilst he is trying to make a point your eyes roam for a familiar head of hair. But the group that Bucky had been sitting with for the past 30 minutes was now short a member, your man. “Who would want to waste time with any of these cruds when you could have a real drink sugar?”

But the words were lost on you as your eyes traced over the room in a hurried panic. Where did he go?

But then your nose fills with a familiar woodsy scent as a familiar arm wraps around your waist in a tight grip that has the cowboy standing straight up in his own panic.

“Yeah Doll, how bout a real drink?”

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out my fuzzy pink handcuffs?

Oh, I hear you knockin', baby, come on up”

That little green monster building in your stomach? Now she had a fire pal burning straight through your skin at the image of the icy glare Bucky managed to send in the cowboys direction, the fingers on your waist tightening and digging into your skin.

“I was just talking to my friend here about drinks.” You hum out, watching his jaw tighten as he continues to glare. “What do you know about drinks?”

The cowboy, who you now knew to be a foolish man since he still stood in that spot, lets out a smooth chuckle. “Considering he’s holding an old fashioned I would say not much, Sugar.”

“Really? I always thought that the old fashioned ways worked in seduction. At least they did for me.” Bucky all but growls out, pulling you closer to him. “Now how bout we ask the gal. Do my old fashioned ways work?”

As if to prove his point he presses his thigh between your legs just a notch and squeezed at your waist, you were lost.

“No words? Hmm? Interesting.” He smiles, “Think you need a break from the crowd?”

He doesn’t waste time waiting for an answer, rather he keeps his grip on your waist as he leads you through the large gala, keeping the glare on his features that has people backing away to avoid his anger. You however basked in it, and as he lead you into the bathroom with the slam of the door and an easy movement to lock the door.

You got right to work, hopping onto the counter and wiggling a bit as he turns back to you.

You look up at him through you lashes, kicking one foot out a bit to expose your leg to him. “I mean not that I don’t love this vibe, we didn’t pack the handcuffs baby.”

“Oh so the pretty girl thinks she’s funny.” He chuckles, stepping forward and moving his hands to the top of your thighs to squeeze before pulling you forward harshly. “In case you haven’t realized it, this is the moment where you start giving me reasons to give you what you so badly want.”

Words failed you as his palms roamed your skin, rubbing soft circles to begin pushing up your dress.

“Oh, I’m the one in trouble here?” You huff, leaning back as he pushed his way in between your thighs. “Funny, here I was thinking of granting you mercy.”

“Oh that’s how we are playing it, huh?” And just like that he is pressing the pad of his flesh thumb right onto your core, pulling a sharp gasp from you as you tried to close your legs out of instinct only for him to press you down with his metal hand. “You were saying, sugar?”

“Oh…” You moan, back arching as he circles his thumb with a smug smile, leaning into you to pull your lips into a fervent kiss. It draws your breath until your gasping into him for air, your hands woven into his hair to keep him there and save you all in the same go while he teases at pulling your panties down only to pull back in a matter of seconds leaving you there to try and catch your breath.

Seconds away from achieving your high only to be left stranded leaves you whining and leaning forward to get him back into your arms.

He tsks at you, pushing you back gently as you continue whining.

“What will you give me?”

“Anything.” You gasp out, kissing at the wrist of the hand holding you back, nipping at the flesh of it as you reach for him metal arm to pull you back in. He gives in a little, allowing you to press your hips into his so release some of the pressure. “Please baby.”

“Then how about you behave for the last hour, and we’ll go home and get you sorted. Yeah?”

“Fine,” You snip out, tracing your hand up his metal arm before making it to his collarbone and pressing your hips further into his. “I’ll be good. I promise.”

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

And you feel like a fool for making that promise as he leads you through the crowd once more, this time with a pressure begging to be released in your lower belly as he keeps his metal hand on your lower back. The chill of the metal while your body is ablaze has you reeling, reaching a hand back to keep a hold on him.

You think of all the things he can do to you as he talks with the Galas president, digging your nails into the sleeve of his tux as you push your thighs together a bit, leaning your nose into him to inhale his scent as he talks with a bold presence.

When that Montana girl comes back you learn that she is an assistant for the program and that little green monster leads you to nip at his ear in front of her before kissing at his neck to leave a lipstick mark.

He looks at you for a moment, leaning in to give you a peck on the lips before turning to talk to her some more but it’s too late, you’re already in a haze. The green monster and the red flame have mixed to make their very own monster.

So you pull him in by his tie, pressing your lips to his ear and whispering the words you knew would break him. “Gimme me a baby.”

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love (Oh)”

It was the one secret weapon you’ve never used, but have always known about.

Back in the beginning of the relationship while you were learning the ins and outs of eachother you noticed how much he loved the pill since it hadn’t been too popular back in his day. He loved the freedom it gave him to mark you as his, but you also noticed the lingering gaze on your stomach and or the intent look he gave when you took the pill.

But you had never been ready for a kid, you wanted to save that for that someone special who you could raise them with. But you knew that Bucky was it, you knew that he was your touch for life. Why not give in?

And the thrill of giving in the second his eyes meet yours makes it worth it, seeing the heat as he pulls you in so tight you might as well be one person.

“Come on baby, one of me is cute but two though?” You whisper, leaning up to bite at his lip before his hands come up to pull you into a feral kiss as he begins to lead you out the doors.

“I showed my friends, then we high-fived (Ah-ah)

Sorry if you feel objеctified (Ah-ah)

Can't help myself, hormonеs are high

Give me more than just some butterflies”

“Easy there.” He grunts out the second you press him into the seats of the limo, straddling him with ease as your nails rake down his chest to begin tracing the buttons of his shirt. “I might feel objectified.”

“I don’t give a shit,” You gasp, ripping his shirt open before attacking his chest with kisses. You take to kissing his chest, dragging your lips from spot to spot in order to mark him as much as you can as he pulls you down to move his hips into your with a groan.

Your eyes flutter closed at the heat that crosses through your body at the sound, whining out a bit as he begins to grind into you, pulling you up from his chest with a swift pull to lock your lips together as the limo makes a turn.

The kiss was feral, teeth gnashing, thigh clenching kiss that has you gripping his shoulders and pushing your hips into his a little quicker. Biting down onto his lip when he stills your hips with his hands before pulling back.

“You gonna let me lock you down?” He whispers, rubbing your hip as he moves you with ease until your legs are splayed over his lap and he can reach between them to pull more moans from you. “Gonna let me keep you forever?”

“Yes….” You whine out the second he begins rubbing at your core once more, this time with the metal hand. The chill of the metal over the fabric is driving you crazy and you press your hips up for more pressure and as a sign you want the panties off.

He is quick to oblige, pulling his hand to the waistband of them and ripping them off in one easy movement before pushing his fingers back to ease one into your center. “I’ll give you anything you want. But you already knew that when you said I could give you a baby. Didn’t you?”

And just like that he pushes two more fingers in, curling them in a fluid motion as his lips press into the pressure point of your throat. He works his fingers in a fast paced motion as you close your eyes and give into the feeling, letting him suck and bite at your neck as much as he wanted to.

And once you reach your high he merely speeds up his movements until your shaking in his lap.

“Atta girl.” He grunts, pulling his fingers up to suck on while you blink at him, still shaking from that orgasm.

“I love you.” You murmur to him, leaning on for a gentle kiss. He laughs into it, rubbing at the back of your neck in a sweet gesture before putting your torn panties in his pocket and looking to see how close you are to home.

“You make me wanna make you fall in love

Oh, late at night, I'm thinking 'bout you, ah-ah

Wanna try out some freaky positions?

Have you ever tried this one?”

The calm ease he had built up for the rest of the limo ride was quick to vanish the second the limo pulled up to the curb, pushing the door open and pulling you out so quickly your legs swing until he pulls you up so you can wrap them around his waist. “You okay?”

“I’m fine.” You giggle, letting him carry you inside until the front door closes and he can set you down to lock it. Even in the mix of all this he can never slack on your safety, and you were sure that once he spent all your energy he would come down here for one last safety check.

You let him do what he needed to do, walking to the kitchen with a fleeting look to him before grabbing a glass of water to sip on while you waited, legs still a little shaky. But you don’t have much time since he comes around the corner into the kitchen, leaning on the fridge with a small smile as he watches you every movement.

“Everything locked up and safe?” You ask, moving one step closer to him.

“Yes.” He responds, the deep voice causing a shiver to move down your spine as he takes a step similar to yours without taking his eyes off you.

“I think it’s so hot you know.” One of his eyebrows raise at your words, the small smile turning into a smirk. “I don’t think I’ve ever met anyone in this world as protective as you.”

He merely hums back, taking another step closer as his eyes roam over your body. “Yeah?”

“Mmhmm. And I was thinking that you deserved an award.”

“I do?” You almost laugh at how innocent the question comes out, but you don’t have time since your already turning to press yourself into the counter, pushing your hips out and pulling your dress up to expose yourself to him as he audibly growls. “Have we every tried this before?”

“I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might”

His hands are upon you in an instant, rubbing at your hips as his body presses into yours to kiss at the back of your neck, and you realize that he is still wearing his undershirt and pants. The metal of the belt buckle digs into your back as you reach back to undo his belt.

You hear him undo it and get ready, pressing your forehead into the tile of the counter as he grabs your hands and begins wrapping your hands together with the leather belt. And you should be embarrassed at the moan that fills the air once you realize what he is doing before he undoes his pants and you feel him press at your center.

He’s quick to press in, and you both your moans fill the air as he presses his forehead into the exposed skin of your back before beginning to rut himself up into you. With every aggressive push of his hips into yours the doors of the cabinet on the counter shake, the cold tile of the counter hitting your hip over and over and over as he claims you for his own.

With one hand holding the belt that is biting into the flesh of your wrists and the other holding the counter to keep you both stable he stands straight and lets free. Every harsh threat is followed by his grunts and your moans, the sound of skin slapping filling the room before the hand from the counter comes to hold your hair.

It’s feral, and hot. And the feeling of his flesh hand pulling at your hair has you tightening around him enough that he can’t fight his own moan.

And the second you hear it you are coming undone around him, shaking harshly as he keeps you held up before you collapse, continuing his thrusts until you reach the peak of the high once more and spasm around him.

Once you come down, panting heavily and keeping your forehead pressed into the cold tile, he works on undoing his belt to release you as he pulls himself out of you and pulls his pants up.

You are quick to turn on him, tears in your eyes partly due to the intense orgasm and the fact that you still haven’t gotten what you wanted. “Baby please….”

“Easy doll.” He whispers, pulling you into his arms to wrap himself around you, picking you up easily. “You’ll get it. Don’t you fret.”

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

He carries you into the bedroom bridal style, setting you down at the foot of the bed before leaning down to grab the end of your dress and pull it over your head, kissing his way up your body so slowly you feel like you might just die. By the time the fabric is over your head he throws it to the side, his gaze meeting yours in a tense blaze.

You knew within an instant that he had gotten serious, and as you kept your gaze on his he let your hands roam until you begin pulling his undershirt off before you reach to undo his waistband. “What’s that look for?”

“Did you know….” He keeps his voice to a whisper as he kicks off his shoes and shucks off his pants, pulling off his socks and throwing everything to the side before moving his hands to either side of your cheeks. “That it’s not actually proven that the amount of orgasms a women has is connected to their ability to conceive.”

“Yeah?” You smile, waiting for him to get to the point

“I did a lot of research.” He says proudly, “So though the amount of orgasms I give you don’t end up mattering in the end…..they sure are fun.”

And you can’t fight the loud laugh that escapes when he gently tackles you onto the bed, making it bounce a bit as he pushes your thighs open with his hands and pressing them into you by the backs of them.

“You ready doll?”

“Always for you sergeant.”

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me

Mark your territory (Ah-ah)

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one (Ah-ah)”

He keeps the eye contact, soft and open, as he slides himself between your folds to use your past orgasms as his lubricant before pressing into your center and moaning a bit as he pushes himself in. Whereas the romp downstairs had been feral and fast this one started slow, allowing him to kiss at your face as you adjusted to his size this time.

His weight presses you into the bed, and your hands find purchase at his back so he can pull himself back before pushing his hips back into yours. Slow and precise, every pull he left a kiss and every push has just enough friction on your core that has you arching your back.

It had been years of him learning your body and by this point he knew how to play it like the back of his hand. It was his and he liked keeping what's his cared for. When you arched a little more he knew he should speed up, and when you closed your eyes he reached a hand down to grip at the fat of your ass, fingers digging in as he readjusted you both for more pleasure.

And once you came around him, spasming and moaning loudly, all bets were off.

“Adore me

Hold me and explore me (Ah-ah)

I'm so fuckin' horny

Tell me I'm the only, only, only, only one”

His entire weight comes down, crushing you beneath him not that your complaining. Between the warmth of his skin and the mix of your sweat with his you both have traction to move as his thrusts turn wild.

Over and over at a speed he hadn’t reached with you before, his eyes are clenched shut as he ruts into you, overstimulating you as you begin to sob from the pleasure. Your entire body shakes with every intense hump.

Between his thrusts you meet your peak once more, screaming out as his own thrusts become erratic and harsher.

By the time he finishes he leans down to your ear so you can hear the heavy moan that escapes him as he fills you to the brim, shaking and pinching you with his metal arm. And his release seems never ending as he continues to thrust, until you are both completely spent and collapse into the cool sheets.

“(Oh, I) I know you want my touch for life

If you love me right, then who knows?

I might let you make me Juno

You know I just might (Might)”

You had managed to fall asleep and only woke up at the realization that he wasn’t near you, vision blurry as you looked around. He had cleaned you up and tucked you in with a glass of water on the nightstand, but his side of the bed was empty.

So you sit up, ready to go check on him, until you realize how sore you were and stay on the bed to listen for him. You hear the sound of him shuffling around downstairs to check all the locks before he begins climbing up the stairs.

You know he makes the noise for you, otherwise he would be as stealthy as an assassin.

By the time he enters the doorway there is a small smile playing at his lips while you open your arms and pull him in to lay with you.

“Goodnight.” You whisper.

“Goodnight, Doll.”

“Let you lock me down tonight

One of me is cute, but two though?

Give it to me, baby

You make me wanna make you fall in love”

The waiting was the most dreadful feeling.

Sitting on the edge of the bathtub with the test sitting on the counter between where you sat and where your husband sat in the hallway with the back of his head laid against the door.

It was silent but not in a malicious way, more of a calming way as his metal hand whirred before the alarm on your phone goes off and you both shoot up to look.

“Is it…”

“I….”

And you both lean to look at the same time to see just how well those new positions took.

#bucky barnes #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes smut #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes fanfic #bucky barnes au #bucky barnes fanfiction #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes x you #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel smut #marvel fluff #marvel angst #winter soldier

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rafesangelita · 3 months ago

Note

hey girly may i please request rafe and bitchy!kook!reader who see each other at a party after a breakup, and they can’t help but sneak off together? some arguing and hot make up sex pleaseeee. thank you!

warnings: ex!bf!rafe, exes to lovers, slight angst, arguing, cussing, mentions of anger issues, descriptions of violence, rekindling, a little bit of jealous!rafe, oral (f. receiving), fingering, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms, just a little bit of fluff

a/n: i kinda went off the request here and made them go home instead of really ‘sneaking away’ i hope that’s okay! i was heavily inspired by the song ‘best mistake’ by ariana grande <3 beware! this fic is a little long..

no contact. rafe wanted to smash his phone when you texted him that fateful night a little over two weeks ago, saying you were never going to talk to him again unless he apologized for getting angry and acting out of line. while he truly was sorry for yelling at you and breaking everything in his sight, he had too much pride to admit he was wrong. and it was because of that pride that you decided to dump his ass and ignore the hundreds of calls and texts he sent your way.

despite having to block his phone number, you couldn’t help but look at all the pictures and videos of you two, sad because you missed him, but pissed because he couldn’t just get his shit together and make things right. eventually, with a lot of convincing and even a little bit of bribing with a new purse, your besties had managed to get you up and into your hottest outfit yet before they took you to a party where they refused to tell you who was hosting.

after you basically obliterated rafe’s ego by not only ignoring him, but blocking him too, he told himself he wouldn’t be fazed if he saw you turn up at the end of summer party that topper threw every year. however, all thoughts of being nonchalant and giving you the same treatment back flew out the door when he saw you walk in with your friends, your mini dress hugging your thighs in a way that made his jaw tick. he would’ve had no problem with your outfit if you two were together.. but you weren’t.

which for rafe, that only meant he would be spending the night smashing faces in if he saw anyone looking at you. he kept his eyes on you the whole time, taking swigs from his beer until finally he ran out and was forced to go inside the kitchen. “hey, y/n.” you looked up. jeremy, a frequent visitor at the country club had approached you. he was sweet and very easy on the eyes. maybe a little too easy, he had a baby face and was a little too much of a pretty boy in your opinion.

“oh, hey ‘jer.” you smiled, calling him by a nickname you heard your friends say a while back. “you look great..” he complimented you. noticing your dress had ridden up, you pulled the hem down before thanking him. “that’s nice of you to say, thank you.” you laughed awkwardly as he seemingly stepped closer. “hey, uh, i heard you and rafe broke up, is that true?” at the mention of your now ex-boyfriend, you blinked. “i.. yeah. but i’m not looking for anything right now.” you shook your head.

“neither am i.” your eyes widened slightly as you felt his hand graze yours. wanting to change the subject, you backed away slightly before clearing your throat. “so what are you drinking?” noticing your discomfort, jeremy flashed you an apologetic look. “this? oh i just got water-” before he could say anything else, you gasped when he almost lost his footing, having been nudged super hard by none other than rafe himself. “woah, you gotta watch out there, man.” rafe winked at you before walking off, the man in front of you cursing under his breath.

“that was a lame move.” he scoffed. you looked past jeremy and at rafe who had his face turned. “i’m sorry, can you give me a sec?” you didn’t wait for him to reply before you followed rafe outside. as if he recognized the clack of your heels behind him, he spun around, making you stop as you two glared at each other. while his gaze slightly softened, you could still make out the roughness in his expression. “you did that on purpose.” apart of you was glad he did, since it gave you an excuse to get out of conversation with jeremy. then again, that was rafe’s intention.

“what are you talking about?” just then, a girl in a bikini walked by, rafe shamelessly eyeing her backside before giving you his attention once more. oh, okay. you smiled at him, arching a brow as he blatantly acted clueless. “you know what? i have someone waiting for me inside. ‘just wasting my time out here.” you whispered the last part, scoffing as you attempted to walk away. rafe dragged you to the side of the house, your hands coming up to shove at his chest.

“who’s waiting for you inside, ‘jer?’” rafe mocked jeremy’s nickname. “yeah, actually. why don’t you go and get the girl who’s ass you just stared at?” you shoved him again, this time making rafe take hold of both of your wrists as he backed you up against wall. “i was fucking with you,” he scoffed, “you’re the one that wants to go back inside to a guy who drinks water at a fucking party!” he laughed incredulously, like he couldn’t believe you would give that guy the time of day.

you swatted his hands away from your own. “i’m not doing this here. you’re acting like you aren’t the one who owes me an apology.” rafe pinched the bridge of his nose. “y/n..” you shook your head, feeling defeated as he stared down at you. “just leave me alone, rafe.” just as you were going to walk away, he spoke up. “then let’s not do this here! let’s have a serious conversation, i mean it.” you shifted, glancing up at him briefly. “and go where?” you arched a brow.

deep down, you knew where this was heading but you so badly wanted to hear what he had to say. rafe got close, resting his hand on the small of your back. “tanneyhill. the house is empty for the next couple of days, so if you want to yell, fight and scream, be my guest.” you sighed as if you didn’t want to go, walking past him and to his truck where he opened the door for you. your friends were definitely going to give you an earful after this.

the drive to rafe’s place was quiet and a little awkward everytime you had to pry his hand off of your thigh, his excuse being that it was just a habit. rafe knew when you broke up with him, for the thousandth time, that it wouldn’t be too long before he saw your catty self walking up the stairs to his bedroom. “i would like to be home by a certain time so get to talking.” you sat down on the edge of his bed, clasping your ring clad fingers together.

rafe shut the door, leaning on the hardwood as he took in your outfit. there’s no way you showed up at that party tonight with the intention of going home alone when you looked this sexy. strappy heels, a black lace dress that that showed a bra and thong underneath, your hair and makeup done so perfectly, he itched to ruin all of it. “you look stunning.” he crossed his arms over his chest, catching the way you swung one leg over the other.

“we’re not here for that.” you leaned back, resting on your hands as rafe nodded. “fair enough..” he started, “look, i’m really sorry. it was wrong of me to take my anger out on you and have no regard for your feelings when i was in the spur of the moment. i should’ve never yelled in your face when you were only trying to make me feel better, i should’ve never broke your things when you told me to leave, from the bottom of my heart, y/n, i’m sorry.” he kneeled down to your level, a silent act of submission. you stared at him.

rafe had a pleading look in his eyes. “i can see you’re sorry,” you barely reached for his jaw, stroking the side of his face softly before you withdrew, “but what are you going to do to fix it?” rafe had missed your touch so much, he swallowed thickly when your warmth disappeared. “would you believe me if i said i was giving anger management classes a try?” you narrowed your eyes at him. “no. do you have a confirmation email or something?” rafe laughed, knowing you wouldn’t be easy to convince.

handing over his phone without any hesitation, you typed in his pin, your birthday, before going to his mail and checking for yourself. sure enough, he had confirmation for not only one class, but an entire course that would take him approximately three months to complete. “please come back to me, baby. i need you.” rafe hesitantly placed his hands on either sides of your hips, your eyes softening as you gazed up at the man in front of you. god, you missed him so much, these past couple of weeks had been the worst.

“i need you, too.” you whispered, both of you leaning in at the same time before your lips melted against one another. cupping rafe’s face, you brought him up from the floor, your back relaxing against his sheets as he hovered above you. rafe had been dying to feel your hands on him, craving your touch like never before. with your dress rolling up your thighs, rafe looked down at the supple flesh there, wanting nothing more than to bury his face in your cunt.

“i was so mad when i saw you walk in looking like this.” you took your bottom lip between your teeth, propping yourself up on your elbows as rafe’s fingers hooked through the soft material of your thong. you watched as he slid the undergarment down your legs, your head falling back as he pinned your thighs to the tops of his shoulders. “rafe-” you reached down, your fingernails running across his skin. he hummed, cupping your soaked pussy as a gasp fell from your lips.

“use your words.” he traced your glossy folds, cursing to himself at the sight. “my heels— they’re still on.” you blinked hazily when you felt his thumb tease your sensitive bundle of nerves. “yeah? they’re gonna stay on.” you moaned when his tongue finally made contact with your clit, your back arching off the bed as he splayed a hand across your tummy. letting out a cry, rafe ate you like man starved, which in a way he was. two weeks was too long, and he was going to unleash all his pent up frustration on you in a way that would have you writhing in pleasure.

rafe knew your body like it was the back of his hand, and he didn’t hesitate to use that to his full advantage. while still lapping at your clit, you fought the urge to shut your thighs around his head when two of his fingers prodded at your entrance. he groaned when he thrusted them into you, your pretty sounds serving as music to his ears. the coil in your stomach only grew tighter until rafe had your thighs trembling, your first orgasm of the night making all the air leave your lungs.

you cried out, rafe appreciating the way your hips stuttered in a poor attempt to chase his tongue. you blinked up at the ceiling when you came down from your high, rafe wasting no time in flipping you over and grinding his erection into your backside. with one hand, rafe gathered your hair in a makeshift ponytail and with the other, he grabbed a pillow, placing it under your hips so he could shamelessly rut against you. leaning down, he kissed you sloppily, both of you moaning as you tasted yourself on his tongue.

taking himself out of his jeans, he wrapped a veiny hand around your throat, thrusting into you without warning. “oh my- fuck!” you squeaked out, your walls fluttering around his cock. rafe shut his eyes, his mouth ghosting over yours as he fucked into you hard and slow. “did you miss this?” rafe went deeper with each thrust, balling up your dress to pull you against him. “yes. yes, i missed this so much!” you whimpered, meaning every word. rafe never wanted to be apart from you ever again.

the discomfort from having your heels on was slowly but surely melting away as rafe replaced that feeling with pure bliss, your walls stetching deliciously around his length. for two weeks, the only thing you could imagine feeling was the warmth of rafe’s body against your own, your heart blooming in your chest at finally having that back. “fuck, i need to see your pretty face..” he rolled you over, slotting himself between your thighs before picking up his pace.

you gazed up at him, already looking fucked out as he groped your tits through your dress. “all this breaking and making up, i don’t wanna do it anymore, baby,” rafe tucked a piece of hair behind your ear before stroking your chin, “m’gonna go crazy if you leave me like that again.” you nodded at his words, your eyebrows drawing together in pleasure. “promise. i promise i won’t do that anymore.” you started moving your hips, meeting his thrusts as he groaned, leaning down to bury his face in the curve of your neck.

wrapping your legs around his waist, you didn’t leave him any room to pull away, his toned stomach slapping against your clit as you two rolled your hips in desperation to feel the other finish. “ah, fuck,” your nails clawed against his skin when you felt his teeth nip at the sensitive spot of your neck. with the way you were moaning rafe’s name in his ear, and your pussy swallowing him whole, it wasn’t long before you two started shuddering as the waves of euphoria washed over you both.

he never failed to make your head pound with your orgasm, quite literally stealing your breath away as you made him lose all train of thought, his ability to hold himself up nearly impossible with your greedy cunt milking him for all he had. “shit.” rafe breathed out, pressing a kiss to your temple before pulling out. you hissed, whining shortly after at the empty sensation. as much as you wanted to feel his arms around you, you wanted a hot shower and a wardrobe change more than anything else.

as if rafe could read your mind, he carried you to the shower where he undressed you and bathed you. he continued apologizing for the way he treated you weeks prior to tonight. even after he had you in nothing but one of his t-shirts, he spent the night inhaling your sweet scent while telling you how perfect you were for him until you fell asleep in his embrace.

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pomefioredove · 23 days ago

Note

Hello! I hope you feel better soon :) remember to drink lots of water!!

Could I request a one-shot with Idia, where reader brings him a meal they cooked themselves since he hasn't had much to eat in the past few days? (Sorry if this is too vague I've just been having thoughts of taking care of Idia)

no this is perfect! <3 actually just what I needed to write rn

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ you have that effect on him

type of post: fic characters: idia additional info: romantic or platonic, reader is gender neutral, reader is yuu, food, mentions of eating and not eating, depression👍, actually cute, reader is not there much sorry,,,

One breath in. One breath out.

Idia has been counting the snicks and scorches on the ceiling all weekend.

They're mostly his. Haywire robots and Ortho mishaps, which he always takes the blame for. One dark smudge is from his shoe, when there was a bug on the ceiling and his brother was out of the room.

Each like a star in his own sky, memories of the days he could get out of bed.

This is not one of them.

Nor was yesterday. Or the day before that.

Just one of those weeks.

One breath in, one breath out. Idia feels painfully aware of the rise and fall of his chest.

He'd sent Ortho on some pointless sidequest for the day. He needed to be alone- well, not really. He just didn't want his brother to worry about him.

He gives up sleep, and lies on his side instead, opening his phone to doomscroll again. The harsh blue light makes his eyes water in the dark of his room.

It feels like he's been locked in an unskippable cutscene all week.

What would you think of him if you could see him now?

He doesn't want to picture it. Idia feels pathetic enough as a cringey, awkward, social reject, even if you like him that way.

There's no going up. When he hits rock bottom, he starts digging.

Knock.

Idia cringes at the sound. He was hoping to be asleep before Ortho came back.

Knock, knock.

"Come in,"

But he doesn't. Idia finally looks up, at the door. Ortho will give the compulsory three knocks, then wait for a verbal command, and then come in. He was programmed that way. He usually talks, too.

But, nothing.

Not Ortho, then.

Idia cozies himself back up in bed, dressing himself in blankets as if they were... well, a shroud.

Another hour goes by. At nine PM sharp, Ortho's melodious knocks, his happy chiming, and the light from the hall follow.

"Find that thing?" Idia asks. He can't even remember what he asked Ortho to get.

"Yep! And guess what! You have a present!"

Psh. Wut? Idia looks up from his phone.

Ortho hovers to the edge of the bed and hands Idia something lukewarm, in a covered glass dish.

"Whatsit?"

His brother giggles. "Can't you guess? You don't even need a scanner for it!"

Idia can't help but crack a smile at that, and he slowly sits up. He peels off the lid of the dish. It's soup.

"Did you make this?" he asks, inspecting the lukewarm dish.

Ortho gives a negative chime. "It was by your door when I returned. Would you like me to heat it up for you?"

"Uh..." Idia hums. "...Yeah. That'd be good."

Within a few minutes, it's back in his lap, hot again. Idia cautiously takes a bite. It's rich, filling, and good, clearly homemade. Not some cheap junk out of a can. One spoonful is more filling than any of the garbage he'd eaten in the past week.

"Your hormonal levels and body language indicate that it's satisfactory. Do you know who left it?" Ortho asks.

Idia shrugs. "Someone came by earlier, but I didn't get the door. Who'd leave me a home cooked meal, anyway?"

He eats some more. It's hard not to enjoy himself, if only a little.

"Well..." Ortho says. "...I may have mentioned to the Prefect that you've been unwell."

Idia almost does a spit-take. "WHAT?! WHA- WH?! This is- th-"

"Calm, Idy! I just said you weren't feeling well! They must have thought you were sick!"

He almost collapses on his bed. His hands are shaking. How humiliating. And he already looked lame enough as it was.

One breath in, one breath out.

"They came all the way out here..." he mutters, stirring the soup around the dish.

"They must really care about you, Idy!"

Idia's face goes bright red. "Don't say it like that..." he mumbles.

But he'd be lying if he wasn't secretly hoping that was true. The thought of you having made something like this just because he felt bad... well... it's a nice one.

You care.

Idia makes a mental note to send you a DM later. As thanks. And to ask if you have any soup left. It's pretty good...

Maybe the promise of you coming over will motivate him to get out of bed.

You have that effect on him.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #idia shroud x reader

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 3 months ago

Text

moth to a flame

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as dubcon/noncon, praise, body worship, eye contact, public sex act, dry humping, and other possible triggers. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Your friend invites you to a bonfire where you meet a man who knows you better than you think. plus! reader

Characters: Bucky Barnes

Note: this is my first of my autumn fics as decided by all of you!.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Asking for more or putting ‘part 2?’ is not feedback.

Love you all. You are appreciated and your are worthy. Treat yourself with care. 💖

Natasha is the coolest person you know. Probably the coolest person most people will ever meet; if they have the privilege. So it is that you wonder how she’s your friend. It’s really too good to be true which is why you can’t help but feel a bit enamoured by her.

It has to be real though. If you’re not friends, she wouldn’t invite you to her annual bonfire. A sacred tradition for her, or so you’ve heard. A gathering of all her closest friends. They are truly elite company. Not just your everyday schmucks, but The Avengers.

You’re sure you’ll seem a bit lame walking up with your basket of pumpkin muffins home-made cider. Still, you were taught to always bring something with you. Though it does provide an obstacle to getting to the front door smoothly.

You carry the large glass jug of cider by the metal handle as you hug the basket to your side. You struggle you hit the lock button on your keys and stop short as the cider sloshes around dangerously and throws your balance. As you try to correct yourself, footsteps scuff up behind you.

“Need help?” The deep voice is like silk.

You look over your shoulder, nearly tipping over as you do. The stranger manages to scoop up the basket before you tip it and you giggle in embarrassment. You sigh and let him take it from you.

Oh, he’s not a stranger. Well, you know his name, even if you don’t know him. Bucky Barnes, the Winter Soldier. One of Natasha’s many high-profile friends. Again, you ask yourself how you ended up there.

“Oop, thanks so much,” you say. “I should’ve made two trips.”

“No problem,” he assures you. “You a friend of Nat’s?”

“Uh, yeah,” you smile, turning back up the walk as he keeps stride with you. “New friend, I guess.”

“Friend is a friend. She only keeps me around because I made friends with a string bean back in 1930.” He chuckles.

“You mean--” You stop yourself and look away. You don't want to come off as a fangirl that quick. “Uh, well, we met at an event. She was teaching self-defense for the woman’s shelter.”

“Oh, you work there?” He asks.

You keep your eyes off of him, “I lived there. Not anymore.”

“Ah, well, that’s good? You’re in a better place?” He asks.

You nod, “much better.” You swallow and exhale. “I know who you are. You’re Bucky Barnes.”

“I’m never gonna get used to that,” he scoffs. “Takes the excitement out of meeting new people.”

“Oh, sorry, I...” you trail off before your nerves can break through.

You don’t think Natasha would ever have become your friend if she knew you were such a geek about her other friends. Cap and Iron Man and even Thor. They were the real-life heroes that inspired you to be your own. And it was a poster of Steve Rogers himself that sparked the last fight that led to you leaving your ex.

“It’s fine, so, do I get a name? Unfortunately, I don’t have the whole mind-reading thing going on,” he knocks on the heavy door as you shift the jug in your grip. You give your name as you peek over at him sheepishly. “These smell...” he lifts the basket and takes a whiff, “delicious.”

“I hope they are. My first time using my apartment stove. It’s gas. I’m used to electric,” you explain. “Uh, pumpkin muffins, if that’s what you were asking. Sorry, I...” you turn to the door and rub your lips together, “if I’m honest, I’m super nervous.”

“Nervous?” He echoes. “About?”

“Well, I’m not the greatest with crowds. Especially since the shelter... ugh, I don’t know why I keep bringing that up.” You cringe, “but uh, just... new people. I guess.”

“Ah,” he nods and teeters on his treads, knocking again, “damn it, Nat, what the hell are ya doin?” He grumbles. “Well, if it’s any consolation, I’m not really a people person either. The arm... it’s quite the ice breaker.” He sniffs, “I hate talking about the goddamn thing.”

“Um, yeah, that would be... awkward,” you utter.

The door opens before he can respond. You’re glad for it. You hadn’t thought about it but now all you can think of is if his arm has a built-in can opener.

“Oh, he-eyyyy,” Natasha stutters as her eyes flit between you and Bucky, “you’re here. Both of you. At the same time?”

“Uhhh, yeah,” you peek at Bucky.

“Ran into each other a few steps back. You’re shit at introducing people, Natty.”

She rolls her eyes and waves him off. She turns to you. “Wow, and what’s all this?”

“I brought cider and--”

“Muffins,” Bucky finishes for you as he lifts the basket higher. “I’m not much of a baker.”

“Or a guest,” she retorts. “That’s so amazing, thank you.” She reaches to take the basket, “come on, I’ll show you around. Bucky, I think you already know where the litter box is.”

Bucky tuts and shakes his head, “nice seeing you too.” He follows you in and faces you, “try to enjoy yourself. I know she’s a bit of a party pooper. Even if she is the host.”

“With guests like you, how can I not be,” Natasha trills and beckons you onward, “don’t worry about your shoes. We’ll most be outside so I’ll do a full sweep and mop tomorrow.” She turns and struts away.

Your eyes creep down her hour glass figure. You feel like a pervert as you do but you can’t help it. Even in a flannel and jeans, her body is perfect. The cowl neck of your red sweater and your corduroy feels a little less cute.

“You made these yourself?” She asks as she leads you into a large kitchen.

There’s a square island with a hardwood top and matching counters and cupboards; the tile is burgundy with black iron accents. You marvel as you compare it in your head to your boxy apartment with the peeling laminate and squeaky faucets.

“Uh, yeah,” you answer as you lift the jug of cider onto the counter. “Apple cider and pumpkin muffins.”

“You are too sweet. I have to admit, I got catering for tonight. I'm no good in a kitchen,” she chuckles. “Lived off of Hydra rations for so long, I can’t do much more than open a can or vacuum seal.”

“Oh, right. Nothing fancy,” you shrug. “You know, I just found the recipes online. Got some apples from the farmers’ market... I don’t know if it’s any good.”

“I’m sure it’s all delicious. Bet the cider would be great with some whiskey,” her voice is smokey as she smirks. “Wanna put that theory to the test?”

“Um, if you want. I’m okay either way.”

“I won’t blame you if you need some liquid courage before facing the rest. Work friends can be a bit much,” she chuckles. “Besides, I have a bottle that’s been sitting in my cabinet for too long.”

“Sure,” you accept, not wanting to be rude. And she’s right. You need something to take the edge off.

She hums as she leaves the muffins next to the jug and she spins to the cupboard. She takes out two glasses that resemble jars and a dark bottle of liquor. You watch her put it all together with ice and a cinnamon stick to boot.

“May as well get some before the rest devour it,” she slides a glass toward you and lifts the other, “cheers.”

You smile and clink her glass. You taste it and your cheeks pinch. The cider is good but you can definitely taste the whiskey. You hold back a cough and cover your mouth.

“I am just rewarming the hors d’oevres but if you want to wait, I can introduce you to everyone.”

Heat roils from the oven as it glows from within and there are trays waiting for serving. She’s already put so much in. You don’t want to make her day even more strenuous. After all, she didn’t have to invite you.

“No, it’s... you’re busy but if you need help.”

“Don’t be crazy. You’re a guest. Go, enjoy the party. I’ll be out shortly. Everything’s mostly out there already.”

“Okay, but um, I can take the muffins at least.”

“Alright,” she agrees.

You grab the basket and go to the door. You pause as you realise you don’t know where you’re going. Natasha laughs again.

“Other way, back door is right on the other side of me,” she sweeps around the kitchen swiftly.

“Right,” you turn back and cross the tile; one arm around the basket, your other hand cradling your glass. You push outside with your shoulder and step out onto the deck.

There’s a long table of snacks as promised. You go to it and put down the basket as you dare to glance up at the guests speckled around the yard. Pairs and trios stand in the grass and around the already crackling fire. They all seem to know each other and you recognise quite a few of them.

“Buns?” The question has you lurching in surprise as you face another partygoer.

“Oh, uh, no, muffins,” you lift the lid to show the contents. “Pumpkin.”

“Oooh,” the blond grins. The golden hair, the square jaw, broad shoulders; how could you mistake Captain America? “Can I try?”

“Of course. I brought them for everyone,” you smile and tightly clutch your glass of cider. “You’re... Captain America.”

“Ha, well, not here. I prefer Steve,” he takes out a muffin and peels away the liner. “And you’re... one of Xavier’s recruits?”

“Xavier? Who—no. I’m...” you introduce yourself as he sinks his teeth in to the muffin. Your stomach flips. What if it’s bad? “Natasha’s friend. Erm, I guess that’s what we all are but nope, I’m just me. Just a... civilian?”

He laughs, “just a civilian? Damn good baker. I don’t go for pumpkin often but this is amazing.”

“Really?” You beam and bounce on your toes.

“Oh, yeah--”

“Save some for the rest of us, punk,” Bucky comes up from behind Steve. “Just like him to be chatting up the cutest girl at the party. What line did he use?”

“Line? I’m just having a muffin,” Steve grimaces.

“Mm, muffins,” Bucky reaches in front of his friend to claim a treat of his own, “was waiting on these.”

He eyes your glass of cider and you take a sip. You pull your lips off the brim and gulp, “oh, the rest is inside if you want some.”

“She made that too,” Bucky points at your cup. “Who knew Natasha had cool friends?”

You giggle, “no, I’m not... just muffins.”

“Good muffins,” Bucky says through a mouthful, “mmm.”

“Might be good to hide them,” Steve remarks as he gives Bucky the side eye.

“Hey, these two meatheads giving you trouble?” Another figure approaches from the back door. You turn as Tony stark flips up his dark sunglasses. He sports a red velvet jacket with collar popped.

Bucky’s lips thin and Steve shakes his head, “you’re late,” the latter rebukes.

“It’s a party, capsicle. Chill. Wait, don’t do that. We might not see you for another seventy years.”

Steve scowls and takes another bite of his muffin. Bucky picks at his own and looks away. You nervously glance between them all.

“Tony Stark,” the new arrival offers his hand, “but you already know that, don’t you, sweetheart? So who are you?”

“Charming,” Steve comments.

“It’s called getting to the point, Rogers. Some of us aren’t gonna wait around until they’re in the nursing home.”

Steve growls and Bucky nudges him. The blond nods and looks at you, “I’ll see ya around.”

“Sure,” you accept. Bucky waves with two fingers and follows Steve’s retreat. You turn back to Tony and shake his hand as you recite your name. “Nice to meet you.”

“Natasha didn’t say this was a meet-cute,” he winks.

“Ummm,” you glance around nervously.

“Teasing ya. You look lost. You want the low-down on the dweebs,” he flicks his index towards the grass. “Now, you see, that kid right there, that’s Parker. His alias is top secret. For his safety. He might blurt it out anyway. And that’s his buddy Miles,” he points at to younger guests. “Someone should really separate them. We don’t need a mess.”

He snickers and puts his arm around you as he moves you toward the top step of the deck, “and there’s the mighty God of Thunder. We all know the puppy dog, and then there’s his stray cat of a brother. Trust me, I tried to have him ejected into space but apparently, they can survive that.”

He tuts. “And there’s Bruce, good guy. When he’s calms. And Brock. Real question mark, that guy. Maria, Coulson, Sam, Strange; the better Steve if you ask me. And Wanda, her husband; I made him, his name is Vision but I guess Victor is more ‘human’.”

He runs his hand up your arm as he pulls you closer, “there’s Charles, he prefers Professor, and his group of ragtag individuals. I could tell you their names but I’m already bored. Oh, except that one, the angry one with the swoopy hair. That’s Logan. Leave him alone. He’s even worse than the bozo with the vibranium arm.

“Now, T’Challa has more important things to do so we don’t got anyone else worth mentioning,” he drags his hand down your sleeve then lets go, “I’m sure you’ll be tired of all of us before the night’s done. I assure you, heroes save people, not the vibe.”

He clicks his tongue and jumps off the top step. You watch him strut off and you stare after him. There’s a lot more people than you expected. Familiar but still strangers.

The only good thing is there’s more than enough guests for you to fade into the background. You’re tempted to go back in and offer to help Natasha. You know better than that. She always sees right through you. She’ll know immediately that you’re just hiding from social interaction.

🔥

The night wears on into darkness. The large pit burns brightly as voices buzz and shadows waver. You stand watching the lick of flames, unnoticed amid the furor. Or so you think.

“Hey, there’s cider left,” Bucky appears at your side, his sleeve brushing yours. “Got you a top up.”

“Oh, that’s... nice.” You accept the glass as he holds another for himself. “You didn’t have to.”

“You look... lonely. I don’t know. Felt bad. You went to all that trouble and you’re wading through this sea of people you don’t know.” He shrugs. “Hate these things myself. I just came ‘cause Nat asked. Well, she tells. You know, you can’t say no to her.”

“Ha, yeah,” you agree. She isn’t just strong-willed, she’s intimidating.

“I usually end up just drifting around until everyone’s distracted, then I dip,” he explains. “Or find somewhere quiet.” He quiets to take a sip, “how about it? Everyone’s out here, there’s a sofa up on the deck.” Your teeth chatter as you try to taste the cider, “and A blanket.”

“Mm, it said it wasn’t supposed to get cold,” you look down embarrassed. You finally get a mouthful. It’s sweeter than before. Maybe because there’s no whiskey.

“Huh, well, you don’t gotta hang out with a boring old man like me. Just figured I’d offer,” he says.

“Thanks, that’s nice.”

“Well, I can be nice when I want to,” he raises his glass slightly and turns away.

As he marches off, you watch his back. Your eyes wander around. No one else even notices you. They’re all so wrapped up in each other. Even Natasha’s barely stopped to chat.

“Wait,” you call after Bucky, “I could sit down.”

He stops and turns as you scurry after him. The fire light flickers and limns the sharp angles of his face. He waits until your right beside him to continue on.

“So, you already know what I do for work. What about you?” He asks as you climb the steps in tandem.

“I’m a cashier,” you answer. “I work at a pet store.”

“Hm, I like animals,” he leads you to the sofa. You can see the glow of the fire but the voices aren’t so raucous from up there.

“Yeah, we mostly just have birds and hamsters there. Nothing very big. It’s a small place,” you explain. “I... It’s a new job.” You keep yourself from mentioning that the shelter helped you find it. It’s not really what you want to do forever, but it’s something.

“Still, that’s nice. You get to help people in your own way. Make sure they can spoil their pet,” he leans back as he balances his glass over one knee and you drink deeply from your own. “I got a cat. Demanding. A bit abusive.” He laughs then chokes on it. “Jeez, I’m sorry. That was a bad joke.”

You shake your head, “no, it’s not... really. I’m not upset.”

“You sure?” He angles towards you.

“Yeah, really. I can handle it,” you say.

He nods and hums, “yeah, I’m sure you’ve dealt with worse than words.”

You’re silent as you look down at the cup. You take another sip. He clears his throat as he shifts in the seat. He reaches back to put slide his phone from the back of his jeans. He leans forward to place it on the table.

“Ugh,” he sits back. “Better.”

You smile, “well, you don’t just work, do you? When did you get your cat?”

“Oh, she just made herself at home really. It wasn’t exactly a conscious or willing choice,” he laughs. You fold one arm around your middle and shiver again. “Ah, where’s that blanket--”

He reaches to the back of the couch and pulls down the blanket. It hits his glass and he loses grip of both. He huffs as he soaks the flannel in cider.

“Damn,” he stands and holds out the sopping blanket before it can drip onto him or the couch. “Just like me. Hold on. I’ll go get another blanket and clean this up.”

He untangles the cup from the blanket and sidles past you. You sit back silently as he heads for the back door. You glance over and consider sneaking over to the table to pick at the leftovers. Instead, you huddle down against another evening breeze.

You finish all but a mouthful of side and reach to place it on the wooden table. His phone lights up and draws your attention. You blink as your eyes instinctively find the screen. You get a glimpse of the wallpaper right before it goes dark again. Huh?

You shake off what you think you saw and the phone lights up again. You lean over and sink your teeth around the gasp that threatens to spill out. That can’t be.

You check over your shoulder before you reach for the phone. You tap the side button and gape at your own image staring back at you. There’s a chat bubble floating on the front screen; new messages. You tap and expand the preview. It’s from Nat; ‘you find her?’

Your stomach sinks and you nearly drop the phone. The door opens and you quickly set it back down and sit back. You cross your arm and stare out at the other guests. Nothing can happen as long as you don’t leave.

He comes back and you flinch as he drapes a blanket over you. He drops down onto the couch as he pulls it snug around your front. He drags his grip down the edges before he lets go. “Better?”

“Mhmm,” you agree and blink. Your eyes feel dry. You reach up to rub them.

“Really good cider. You’ll have to send me the recipe,” he insists.

“Sure,” you slur and try to shake it off. “I’ll find the link...” you swallow and cough. You don’t feel right. You need some space to think. “I need to use the bathroom, one sec.”

You try to stand but don’t even get your ass off of the sofa before you slump over. Your head crashes into Bucky’s shoulder. He opens his arm around you and rubs your back. He hushes you as you babble.

“You’re okay, baby,” he rubs your back, “I got you.”

You try to make a noise but you can’t. You can’t whine or whimper or scream. You can just squeak as he pushes you back up so you fall back against the arm.

“I measured...” he says quietly. “You shouldn’t pass out.”

You gurgle and lift your arm. It takes so much effort that it drops down like a bag a sand. The cider...

He shifts and stands, moving your leg behind him before he lowers himself back down. His hand rests on your thigh. His thumb presses into your soft flesh.

“God, you’re so beautiful, doll,” he traces up and down the seam of your pants. “Absolutely gorgeous.” He runs his finger along your pelvis, making a vee back and forth, “soft and... warm.”

“B--B—B--” you stutter.

“The moment I saw you, I knew you needed me,” he moves even closer, his hand crawling up your stomach. “Whoever chased you into that place, he didn’t deserve you. You deserve better.”

He moves carefully, lifting himself and twisting onto his knees. His hand glides back along your thigh as he folds it around him. You twitch but can’t do more than that. He bends and holds himself over you.

He curls an arm under your head and nuzzles you. Your eyes roll back as you hide behind your eyelids. This can’t be real. What is he doing? How can he have photos of you on his phone? And that text... did Natasha set this up? Why would she do that? She’s your friend.

“Look at me,” he growls. His voice is scary. Your eyes snap open and you groan. The tip of his nose rolls around yours. “God, you’re beautiful. Doll, I’m gonna take such good care of you.” He leans his pelvis against you as he presses down, “I’m going to keep you safe.”

He tilts his hips until you feel his bulge against you. Your eyes round and you puff out a foggy breath. What is he doing?

“Don’t look away,” he snarls as he slides his arm back and grips the back of your head. “Mmm, I just... I love the way you look at me. The way you feel beneath me.” He rasps as he rocks his hips steadily, “I can’t wait to have you on me, doll. To feel you on top of me. Around me. Mm, I wanna taste you so bad.

“Mm, your chest,” he touches your tits, “your stomach, your hips,” his hand explores with his declaration and he hooks his hand under you, “your ass. All mine.”

His coarse whispers tingle through you. What he says is nasty and wrong and yet it’s thrilling. Terrifying because you can do nothing to stop him. Defeating because all the people only feet away won’t either.

#bucky barnes #dark bucky barnes #dark!bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #fic #one shot #autumn #mcu #marvel #winter soldier #avengers #captain america #dark fic #dark!fic

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bluerthanvelvet444 · 8 months ago

Text

‧₊˚♫ ⋅* ‧₊✮𝐓𝐮𝐦𝐛𝐥𝐫 𝐠𝐢𝐫𝐥✮‧₊˚ ⋅*♫ ˚₊⋅

Tate Langdon x fem!reader

tags: smut with a plot and some fluff.

warnings: obsessive behavior, kind of a switch!Tate, oral (f receiving), dry humping, p in v.

summary: Tate encounters a Tumblr girl. (Inspirated a lot by the song I linked under.)

character count: 12k.

full fic under the cut ↓

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

2014.

Tate had never really cared about looking ‘stylish’ or ‘fitting in’ when he was alive. He had his own style, which wasn’t trendy nor one of a kind just…his. He didn’t need anyone else’s approval to believe he was cool, mostly because the girls that were attracted to him were just as fucked up as him and the popular ones tended to ignore him.

Ironical how that changed in his afterlife, once he saw you. After dying, Tate’s time was spent either with the other trapped souls or by himself. Hardly ever people moved in the Murder House, and whether they did, they were a low-budget couple in their 40s. So Tate’s knowledge of the modern outside world was poor and lacking, especially when it came to his ‘peers’. That’s why when you first moved in the house, Tate was stunned, if not flabbergasted even.

You were struggling with carrying your heavy luggage, muttering curses as the wind blew your colorful hair in your eyes. The first word that came in Tate’s mind as he watched you from the front window was “cool.”

He spent the first days of your sojourn watching you from afar, admiring the way you acted. Tate found out the way you styled your outfits in the fashionable way, how you talked to your friends in slangs and how you spent your evenings taking pictures on your polaroid and on a glowing little box, that for some strange reason you called phone, to post (that’s the term you used) on a little blue icon marked with a white t. He didn’t know what was considered popular now, but he was sure you belonged in that category, judging by the way you looked and the way your pictures had high numbers under them whenever you uploaded them. He needed wanted to approach you, and the perfect opportunity showed up when he saw you type on your glowing box:

“PARTY in the MURDER HOUSE tonite!! >_< :33!!”

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

The house had never been so full of alive people having fun. The doors were open, colorful lights were shining and high volume music was blasting. Tate tried blending in, although the more he looked around the more he felt…lame. The drunk teens around him were all different from each other, and none of them matched his vibe. And he even wore his favorite sweater!

Still, he had nothing to lose, so he took a deep breath and searched for you in the crowd. Tate made his way past people as they pushed him to the left and to the right. It felt weird to be seen, to be touched. He found you circled by people asking questions about the house. Was it haunted? Were there ghosts? All of which you answered with a simple “No.”.

“Of course there aren’t any ghosts, I’m keeping them away from you.” Tate thought. Since he was too nervous to actually take a few steps and start a conversation with you, he figured he’d get some punch, just to loosen up a bit. He walked towards the punch bowl, and as soon as he reached to grab a cup, his hand met yours. You both grabbed the same solo cup.

“Sorry! You can have it.” You giggled as you let him take the cup. Tate blinked a few times, eyes locked to your bright smile, before grabbing the cup and filling it up. “Be cool, Tate. Don’t mess it up.” He thought.

“Uh. So…this is your party, right?” He gulped, eyes darting around the house as if he didn’t know every single inch of it by heart.

“Yes! Thought it would’ve been fun to host a party in a so-called Murder House. Plus, this house is giant, it gets lonely after some time…You live near here? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you.” You smiled.

“Oh…yeah. My name’s Tate. I live nearby.” Tate’s eyes trailed upon your figure, he had never been able to see you from so close. You simply nodded, sipping from your cup. He cleared his throat.

“You know…I used to live in this house.” He added nonchalantly, trying so hard to sound interesting.

“Really?! No way!” Your giggles rang in his ears.

“Mhm. You probably noticed some of my things still laying around in my bedroom. No one has stepped in since I last did.” He nodded.

“Oh, do you wanna see? Maybe there’s something you left that you want back.” You replied, slightly raising your voice so that it could be heard over the music.

“I uh-There’s no need t-” He was interrupted by you grabbing his hand and leading him upstairs anyways. You opened the door of the bedroom and kicked out a couple that was making out on your bed.

“Ugh!! I should’ve locked the door!” You exclaimed, closing the door behind you two. Tate looked around, some of your things were laying around, but it was mostly all his.

“Dude you left everything here!” You giggled. Tate forced out a chuckle, everything was of course still there, since he ‘lived’ there normally and never moved.

“Yeah, uh…Guess I left in a hurry.” He muttered awkwardly and grabbed some of his Nirvana CDs.

“There they were…!” He pretended as if he didn’t just play them everyday before you came.

“CDs? Didn’t you use an IPod or something?” You gave him a confused look.

“Oh uh…no, I prefer CDs.” He nodded, as if he knew what an IPod was.

“You don’t use your phone?” You asked, raising up your glowing box.

“No, I…don’t have one.” He gulped.

“Damn, how do you handle that? I could never live without Tumblr or Instagram.” You chuckled.

“...Yea, um…just not my thing, y’know?” He cleared his throat, trying his best to change the subject.

“Oh, yea. I’ve met some people like that. I envy y’all, y’know? Tumblr’s literally addicting to me. Can’t help it though, love when people comment nice stuff and see you as inspiring, y’know?” You chuckled, sitting down on his your bed.

“Uh…can’t really relate. I’ve always been pretty invisible.” He shrugged.

“Oh…you don’t seem so bad. I like the whole grungy vibe.” You grinned, pointing to his outfit.

“Oh- uh…thank you.” He hoped it was a good thing to be ‘grungy’...or whatever you said.

“Yea, looks good on you. Doesn’t really fit me tho.” You giggled.

“You’d look gorgeous in anything.” Was what Tate wanted to say, but he didn’t wanna push his luck too far, so he just forced a shy chuckle.

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

You spent something like 30 minutes just laughing and getting to know each other while laying on the bed. During this whole time, he couldn’t help but think about how breathtaking you were: your smile, your eyes, your body, your personality, your whole being. You were perfect. Perfect for him. He found himself to be completely mesmerized by you, he needed you to be his, he needed you to make him feel loved, alive. He wondered how you did it, how ever since the first second you spent next to him, his heart started beating for the first time since he died. His body felt warm, his skin didn’t feel so cold anymore, he started breathing again. He was addicted to this feeling, so he did the only reasonable thing he would’ve done if he was actually alive, he gently grabbed your cheek and pressed his lips against yours. Everything felt just better after he kissed you, as if after that whole hell he had been through he finally reached paradise. He felt even more surprised when you kissed back, your lips moving in sync with his. He moved to lay on top of you, balancing his weight so he didn’t crush you, his lips never leaving yours as his fingertips danced across your body. His tongue slipped in your mouth, swirling around yours in a passionate dance. He let out some deep throaty groans, he felt his desire grow as it coursed through his veins. He needed to feel you, so he deepened his kisses. When you moved your lips down on his jaw and then his neck, he almost lost it. He felt embarrassed for moaning so much and basically becoming a mess under your touch, but he relaxed as soon as he felt your lips curling up in a smile against his skin. He moved on to devour your neck, grinning as he felt you moan now. His hands gripped every inch of your body.

“You’re so…beautiful…” He mumbled against your skin, grabbing your breasts through the fabric of your shirt. He looked up at you while tugging at your shirt, silently asking for consent to peel it off of you.

“You can take off whatever you want...” You winked, giving him a cute smile. He immediately peeled off both his and your clothes, groaning at the sight of your body. His lips worked hungrily on your collarbone, leaving marks that will most likely turn into hickeys the next day, then placed kisses on the valley between your breasts, a tiny whine leaving him when his fingers failed at desperately trying to undo the clasp of your bra.

You giggled and helped him, throwing your bra somewhere on the floor. He immediately took one of your nipples in his mouth, suckling gently while looking up at you with those brown puppy eyes of his. You smiled and twirled a strand of his blonde locks between your fingers, soft moans escaping your lips. He kept switching between sucking your left then right nipple, his hand groping the one he wasn’t attacking with his mouth. He felt himself getting harder as he felt the warmth radiating from your body, so while his mouth worked wonders, he desperately brushed his growing bulge from under his boxers on your leg. He let out some needy whines, and he couldn’t help but mutter sweet words against your skin as he lowered down to trail kisses on your tummy.

“So perfect f’me…” His words came out muffled as he trailed his kisses down, pressing his lips against your inner thigh and then on the fabric of your panties. You moaned when his fingers hooked under the waistband of your underwear, slowly pulling it down, as his lips immediately worked on your clit.

“Ah…just like that Tate…don’t stop…” You moaned when he started to suckle gently, soft whines leaving his mouth as well. As he got more needy himself, his mouth lowered on your entrance, his tongue gently brushing against your wet folds, finally entering you after teasing you a slight bit. What you felt was pure bliss, unholy sounds leaving your lips every time his tongue sped up. When you looked down, you found Tate looking up at you with those brown doe eyes from between your legs, as he worked his magic. The sight only drove you to the edge, your moans getting louder as you came on his face. He groaned and cleaned you up with his tongue, making sure not to miss any single droplet of your cum.

“So good…you taste so fucking good…” He moaned into your ear, pressing wet kisses on your neck and collarbone.

“Wanna be inside of you…please? please let me…” He whined while rubbing his hard dick against your flesh. You nodded and just like that he didn't waste any more time, he abruptly pulled his boxer down, groaning as the cold air hit his shaft, and lined up with your entrance. While you were still coming down from your high after the intense orgasm, Tate pushed his dick inside of you slowly, moaning uncontrollably once he felt your tight walls clenching around him. You were relieved that this encounter happened when you threw a party, or every single soul nearby would’ve heard the throaty groans and moans leaving his lips.

“Mh…tight…so tight…so pretty-can I move please? I’ll be- ah…I’ll be careful-please-” He whined against your neck, as his blonde strands caressed your face gently. You agreed, and just like that he was thrusting in and out of you, first slowly, then at a steady pace. The room was filled with filthy moans, yours and his, and the repetitive sound of skin against skin, as your sweaty bodies were sliding one against each other. He felt like he was going insane as his mind couldn't help but focus on you and you only. Every moment was more pleasurable and he felt like he was closer and closer, so he muttered in your ear, still thrusting into you.

“Close…so close…don’t think i’m gonna last-ah…longer…please please please…want you to cum too…” He babbled as his brain turned into mush.

“Ah-! Mhm…m’close too…” You breathed out, feeling the knot in your stomach tighten even more.

“Please-mh…cum on my dick? yeah? wanna feel you..please…” He whimpered, he felt like he couldn’t contain his upcoming orgasm. You couldn’t even respond as the repetitive brushing of his tip against your G-spot drove you to the edge. Letting out a loud moan, you came for the second time while he was still inside of you. That caused Tate’s eyes to roll back, his groans only filling the room as the feeling of your cum dripping on his length and your walls squeezing it, was too much to bear. He quickly pulled out and came all over your stomach, then he collapsed next to you.

He spent the next moments cuddling up against you, thinking about everything. His hands were playing with your hair, and when he looked down he found your eyes closed and your breath steady. He smiled at the sight, wanting every night of his afterlife to end like this and determined to make that happen. He kept placing sweet kisses on the top of your head, while he wondered how he was gonna explain to you that he died before Tumblr even existed.

.⋆.‧⋆ ✧˚₊‧⋆. ✧˚₊‧⋆‧.⋆.

taglist: @cxndiedvi0lets @angeldollw @doll3tt33 @marchsfreakshow @fear-is-truth @dykejugheadjones @happy74827 @evpeters87 @dont-look-behind @brightanshiny

a/n: rahhhh tate's such a loser needy boy. BTW spent sm time on this fic, I'm pretty proud of how it turned out!! hope you like it! this is for my tumblr girlies🩷

#Spotify #tate langdon #american horror story #ahs murder house #evan peters #ahs fandom #kyle spencer #violet harmon #james patrick march #kai anderson #taissa farmiga #ahs hotel #ahs asylum #ahs coven #ahs freakshow #2014 tumblr #smut #evan peters x reader #tate langdon x reader

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taintandviolent · 8 months ago

Text

Like Right Now? ; Peter Maximoff x Reader

summary: Part 2 of this fic! Peter waited as long as he could - which wasn't very long. He wants round 2 and you do too. Like.... right now.

word count: 3.3K words!

w a r n i n g s: shameless smut, smut with a little plot, unprotected sex, couch sex, sex while parent is in the same vicinity dry humping, kissing, neck kissing.

a/n: not beta-read. by popular request... aaaah I'm still as nervous as I was posting the first part of this! anyway, I hope it's good and satisfies the peter craving! as always, sorry for any clunky weirdo writing!!!

full fic & taglist under cut! ↓ / ao3 link here! /

With a contented sigh, you opened the door to the house you shared with your mother. Even though you were technically an adult now, you had decided to stay with her, helping her around the house. A child of divorce, you’d always been a little overprotective of her, and couldn’t imagine her alone.

“Did you have a good skate, honey?” Your mother asked, watching from the living room as you hung your skates on the hook by the door. With your thumb, you furiously rubbed off a scuff mark off the shiny surface and nodded. Boy, did you. Best skate you’d ever had. Using your heels to slip your sneakers off, and kicking them towards the rest of the shoes, you laughed. “Yeah, I went real fast tonight and–”

The phone interrupted your next words, ringing shrilly. You practically stumbled towards it, reaching out for it like a parched man reaches for water. Your insides wound themselves in knots, just knowing that it was Peter on the other end.

“H-hello?”

“Hey cutie.” He’d waited. As long as he could without losin’ his ever loving mind. Which, he wondered if he already had, considering how bad he was aching to hear your voice again. Maybe he’d already lost it.

“Hi,” you hummed, turning away from your mother. You brought your tone lower, hushed.

“Did you just get home?”

“Yeah, Peter, I did.”

“Dang, slow poke. I’ve been home for a while.”

“Okay, well,” you laughed. “That’s not fair.”

“When do we get to uh… hang out again? Huh? I’m already jonesin’ to see you again. With or without skates.” Peter adjusted the phone against his ear, waiting.

You peeked around the corner. Your mother was busy with her program, no longer paying attention to your conversation, likely assuming that it was just one of your girlfriends. How wrong she was…

“Hang out? Is that what we did?”

“Yea’, er… somethin’ like that.”

“Whenever you want.”

“Aw, man, don’t say that…”

“Why not?” You ducked around the corner and plopped down on the third step of the staircase, winding the cord around your fingers. You knew why. You heard the way that Peter’s breath hitched in his throat, even through the phone.

“Like… now?”

“...Right now?” You asked back, almost in a teasing tone. “Like right now?”

“Yeah!” His tone was bright and excited, and it sounded like he was already out of breath.

“My house?” The suggestion was brave, but you knew your mom would be going to sleep within the half-hour. If you stayed quiet, she wouldn’t hear you over her bedroom TV.

“Yeah! I mean…” He cleared his throat, trying to act casual. Way more casualness was needed - he was acting super lame and way too into you. Maybe you liked that. Maybe you didn’t. He couldn’t risk it. “Sure. If you want.”

You began whispering your address, your eyes flitting to the living room. Your mother rose from the chair and went to the kitchen, none the wiser. You continued, knowing Peter had already committed it to memory. Your mother leaned down to cup your face as she went up the stairs and mouthed goodnight, and you covered the receiver with your hand.

“Night, mom. Love you.”

“Be there in a flash.” You heard him say.

You wanted to tell him to wait, but the line was already dead. As you moved, your hands shook and fumbled the receiver, dropping it once before getting it back on its cradle. Your mother had hardly gotten up the steps, and he’d be there any second, if he wasn’t already. You heard the door click shut and heaved a sigh of relief.

“Mom?” You said, testingly. She didn’t respond, so you launched your body up the carpeted stairs, running up them like a four-legged animal. Her door was shut, nothing but the dull glow of her bedside table seeping through the crack at the bottom of the door. You raced back down the stairs, your socks padding quietly down them, despite the speed.

Your bedroom was down the hall, past the kitchen. You’d never been gladder to be on the bottom floor. You crept into your room, edging the door shut until the latch clicked into place and as it did, paused to laugh at yourself; you were doing everything so sneakily, as though you were a child acting out. You were a grown woman, albeit still in your mom’s house, but the point remained. Pushing aside the curtains, you carefully maneuvered the window up. It was a warm summer evening, there was no reason why you wouldn't open your window - perfectly normal, if your mother heard it. You stuck your head out. No Peter. Surely, he’d have been here by now. You breathed, looking at the base of the tree outside your window. A squirrel skittered up into the branches. Just as you were about to pull your head back inside, Peter’s head comically poked out from the corner of the house. He had clearly been standing by the front door, which horrified you.

“Took so long, I was about to knock – .”

You shushed him, and whispered harshly for him to get inside. He stuck one leg in, climbing in carefully – the last thing he needed was to be a total klutz and eat it on your bedroom floor.

“You’re crazy, you know that? The front door!?”

“Cool your jets, babe. You didn’t tell me which window was yours. Where’s your mom?”

“Upstairs, hopefully sleeping.”

“Good,” he murmured into your lips, suddenly in front of you. He’d caught you off guard with his speed, but like everything he’d done from the moment he’d complimented your skates, he was so frustratingly cute. The kiss was warm and soft, you were in no position to resist it. He kissed you back towards the bed, his hands cupping your breasts, thumb tweaking your nipples over your shirt. Which reminded you… you were still in your skating clothes. There was far too much fabric in between his thumb and your nipple.

“Lemme’,” you murmured sloppily into his lips, before finally pulling back. “Lemme’ change first, okay? It’ll look less suspicious. Who needs to cool their jets, huh?”

“Sorry, sorry.” Hands up, Peter took a step back, watching you as you sauntered off towards your small closet. Your hips swayed back and forth to a song that wasn’t playing. Probably something you’d heard at the skating rink. You could admit it, you were putting on a bit of a show in hopes of arousing him.

Still though, you hurried, sliding the doors open and pulling your shirt over your head. You reached around and undid your bra, glancing back at him cheekily. Woah, jackpot… he thought, hoping, that at that point, he wasn’t drooling like a cartoon dog. He was watching you intently, a crooked grin plastered on his face. Neck turned, you held his gaze, daring him to look as you slid your shorts and panties down over the curve of your ass. He looked, but it was so fast of a peek that it was impossible for you to notice. Now finished with your impromptu strip tease, you pulled a sleeping shirt from the shelf and threw it on, spinning on your heels to face him.

Clad in nothing but the oversized t-shirt, you marched back to Peter, who had taken a seat on the edge of your bed. You climbed behind him, sliding your hands up the round muscle of his shoulders. On your knees, you were just taller than him and decided to take advantage of that by kissing his neck, slowly. You nipped here and there, suckling in other places while your hands explored the front of his shirt, ghosting over the faded print.

Peter started sweating, and the stiffness between his legs got worse. Much worse. There was no hiding it, or ignoring it and he could’ve sworn that he heard you giggle behind him. His expression was a melange of pain and pleasure, and as your hands neared his crotch, he couldn’t really tolerate much more of your tender kissing…

“Babe,” In a blur of motion, your back was pressed against your mattress, and he was back to tweaking your nipples again, rolling them between his thumb and forefinger. The action made you squirm. “Your foreplay is bitchin’, but you’re driving me crazy. Loco. I feel like I’m gonna’ bust.”

“Okay, so now what?”

“Now what?” He repeated, almost mockingly. “It’s my turn.”

His hand trailed down from your breasts over the curve of your stomach to the soft mound between your legs. You felt a buzzing directly on the sensitive bundle of nerves and looked down, equal parts confused and aroused. It was his hand, and not a vibrator, but instead of seeing his fingers move back and forth, you saw a flesh-coloured blur. Everything you’d learned about fingering… in the span of a few hours, he’d completely shattered. So, he could finger-fuck you at super-speed, and he could literally vibrate your clit. Of course he could.

“Oh my god,” you moaned, an intoxicating lilt to your words. Peter groaned, and ground his hips against the side of your thigh. His finger dipped down, collecting some of your warm, slithery wetness and pulling it back up, smearing it around your folds.

You clapped your hand over your mouth, legs quivering. The pad of his middle finger continued tapping your clit and you felt the very rapid climb of your orgasm. Without warning from him, Peter’s hand drifted away from your pussy, his slick fingers gripping your thigh. “Babe, I’m thirsty.”

“Wh-what?” Breathless and sweaty, you quirked a brow at him.

“You got a soda or something?”

“Uh, yeah, in the kitchen. Y-you’re really thirsty right now?”

Before you could protest, you stood in the kitchen. He had opened the fridge, popped the tab on a can of Coke, guzzled it, and tossed it into the bin. You blinked. “What… Peter…!” You sniggered, covering your mouth to muffle the sound of your own voice. Your mother’s bedroom was right above the living room, and the last thing you wanted was her to wake.

He couldn’t help himself, couldn’t wait any longer. He’d gotten you downstairs, and now it was time to up the ante. Wrapping his arms around you, Peter zipped to the couch, and could’ve fucked your wet little cunt right there on the sofa. In the span of a few seconds, Peter could’ve drilled his aching cock inside of you, just long enough for you to feel it, just long enough for him to bust inside you and just long enough to make you quiver. Instead, he hovered over you, looking deep into your eyes, chest heaving.

“What’re you so nervous for, babe? You know that the second I hear footsteps, we’d be back in your room.”

“Peter, we can’t… my mom is right above us, dude!”

“You’re no fun, c’mon.” He craned his neck down, pressing a few teasing kisses along your exposed collarbone. “C’mon, babe.”

You whimpered, rolling your lips inward and your eyes upward. For being such a top tier goof ball, he was unnervingly good at making you feel like your entire body was on fire. That electric current that you felt at the roller rink was back, buzzing through you at a high voltage.

“Peter…” you begged, hoping he’d change his mind because the reality was that he’d get his way if he didn’t. You were too turned on and too into him to say no.

“C’moooon.” Another kiss. Internally, he was ripping stuffing. His confidence was outrageous, where did he get the balls? He wished you were holdin’ his – no. Stop right there. You ran your tongue along your teeth, and Peter watched the wet muscle as it swept across the enamel, glistening.

“You promise?” you asked.

He nodded, too eagerly, his silver hair flopping with the motion. “Scout’s honour, or whatever. She won’t know a thing.”

With a little huff, you spread your legs, allowing him in. Peter wasted no time in letting that wet, aching monster free, immediately pulling his gray boxers down over his balls. You pressed your hips into the couch cushions, backing away from the heat that met your groin and Peter followed them, pressing his hips right back into you. He groaned breathily, rutting his hips. You were soft and warm underneath him, and felt so soo good. The shaft of his cock met your wet folds, and he immediately found a rhythm, humping you in long, steady thrusts that had you curling your toes. Every time the velvet plush head of his cock bumped into your swollen clit, you whimpered. Ecstasy deluded your senses, eyes rolling back in your head.

“Peter, oh my god…!” His hand clamped over your mouth, his dark eyes widening in a warning.

“Shhhhhhh –”

You nodded underneath his grip, remembering the threat of the situation. Peter kept his hand on your mouth, pressing tightly against your soft lips. He reached down, taking hold of his cock and pumped it in and out of his own fist a few times before lining up with your entrance.

“Ready?”

With lusty, half-lidded eyes, you nodded.

Peter pushed his leaking tip inside of you, then with a shaky breath, sunk the rest of the way in. The sensation of your walls stretching to accommodate his thick cock was indescribable; hot, tight pleasure coursed through your body in waves as Peter found his rhythm. Fast. Fast rhythm. He fucked like a teenage boy, and you liked that – his bunny humps were deep and intentional, like the crimson head was trying to find the deepest point inside of you. Peter pressed his lightning-bolt patterned socks against the armrest of the couch, using it as leverage to push himself inside of you.

His cock made slick by your arousal, his hips moved against yours rapidly, hammering your cunt in a way that you physically thought impossible. In the darkness, you saw Peter smirk crookedly, pleased with the visual below him. Your tits bouncing underneath the shirt with each thrust, your eyes wide and lust-blown. His gaze dropped to them, watching, entranced. With your free hand, you reached for the hem of your shirt, pulling it up to your collarbone and letting your breasts fall free.

“Oh fuck,” he whispered.

Skates fast. Fucks fast. Cums fast. You thought, watching as his face contorted, his eyebrows knitting together, jaw dropping. His breaths came out in hurried little huffs as he pumped inside of you, filling your cunt with sticky, white heat.

“Honey?”

He froze. You froze. Stiffly, you turned your head towards the staircase, looking up into the darkness, petrified.

“YEAH! YEah, mom, just… getting a drink!” You tried to keep your voice level, but there was something so inherently naughty about having a guy on top of you, his dick inside of you while you spoke to your mother. Your stomach was tight, muscles burning with the contraction.

“Oh, okay! I thought I heard - I don’t know. I love you!”

“I love you too! Goodnight!”

Once the door clicked shut, and your head snapped back in Peter’s direction, who was still panting on top of you. Slapping his pectoral muscle hard, you mouthed go go go go! Naturally, before you’d finished the last ‘go’, Peter had pulled out and you were back in the safety of your bedroom before a drop of cum had time to leak from your swollen cunt. Back on your bed, your hair splayed out on the satin pillowcases. Peter was at your side, drawing circles on the exposed flesh of your stomach.

“Did you uh -”

“No… I didn’t have a chance.”

“Oh, uh… sorry about that. That happens a lot, y’know? Part of the whole speedster thing, I can’t always –”

“Peter… shhh… it’s cute. It means you like me.”

He pointed a finger at you, pushing his bottom lip into his top. “That… that is true. Hey. I have an idea.”

In the darkness, only illuminated by the moonlight that filtered in through the window, you saw Peter sink down to his stomach, resting between your legs. He moved both legs atop his shoulders, pulling you forward.

You felt a hot breath against your thighs, and whimpered. When a warm tongue licked between your wet folds, you moaned out, grinding your head back into the pillow. Peter slipped a single digit into your cunt gently, twirling his tongue around your clit as he did. He pumped it in and out a few times, feeling the way your cunt squeezed around him. Your wetness coated his finger, dripping down the length into his palm.

You felt your cunt clenching, uncontrollably. Peter did too and withdrew his finger. His tongue flicked at your clit rapidly, the wet, slick sounds filling the quietness of the bedroom. His dark eyes flitted up to yours, watching every minute expression that flashed across your face.

“S-slow down…” you whispered, not loud enough for him to hear. It was more of a desperate breath in the shape of the words. He didn’t hear you, and even if he had, he was far too busy burying his nose in your cunt, tasting your sweet fluids. His tongue lapped at your entrance and curled back towards his throat, swallowing. He groaned into her, the sound resonating through your core.

“Peter… Peter!” You whispered harshly, gripping his head on either side. He didn’t budge, and his eyes drifted shut in ecstasy. Moving up to take a fistful of silver hair, you yanked him off your cunt, his reddened lips glistening and open, confused. His inky orbs looked up at you, dazed and desperate.

“Whaaat?” he asked, a hint of annoyance tainting his usually upbeat voice.

“Slow… down….”

“Sorry but that’s not really… my…” He paused, looking at your weeping cunt again. “...thing. She doesn’t really look like she wants me to, either.” He reached forward, sweeping a single digit along the length of your pussy. You jerked, sensitive.

“I can’t stand it, I’m gonna’ cum too quickly.”

“Quick is in the name, babe.” He shrugged his shoulders, as if telling you that you were shit out of luck.

He dove back in, and picked up licking her again, from bottom to top. He was slightly slower than before – maybe he’d decided to have mercy on you. Or maybe he was just savouring the feeling of your cunt as it practically fluttered on his tongue, your clit throbbing with the sensitivity. You rocked your hips against his mouth, humping his pretty face with reckless abandon. It was the only control you had, because as soon as you started that, his tongue had returned to the speedy flipping of your clit.

You were going to cum – so fast that you hardly had time to process it.

“Ffffuck… oh god,” you whimpered. Your cunt pulsed over and over again, and Peter was right there to feel it. He speared two fingers into her. Curled them upwards, feeling the clench of your orgasm as it came. He fucked you with his fingers until the throbbing stopped, and the first hint of overstimulation came – you whined, too loudly.

Peter grinned, his slick fingers slipping from your pussy. With a mischievous little glimmer in his eyes, he observed them, watching as the thick, clear strands strung apart between his digits.

You wanted to ask him on a date. He wanted to ask you on one. But neither of you said a thing. Neither of you said a thing, and just watched each other breathing, chests heaving, heavy with lust. Lookin’ cuter than she ever has… Peter thought, watching you in your post-coital state; sweaty and blushing.

You knew you were going to be obsessed with him – were already obsessed with him. The high that you chased with skating was nothing compared to what you felt being around this silver dork, and all his little quirks.

“So uh… same bat-time, same bat channel?”

You chuckled. “Yeah, Peter. Yeah.”

#Peter Maximoff #Peter Maximoff x reader #Peter Maximoff x you #Quicksilver x you #Quicksilver x reader #myfics #X-Men Movies

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vanishingstarrs · 2 months ago

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taste ( katsuki bakugo x popstar!reader, sort of established relationship, inspired by please please please by s. carpenter ) ( testing the waters for this fic w a short n’ sweet chap, pls enjoy, drop your thoughts, i have a longer vers coming, sorry for the wait omg i just want this to be soso perfect for y’all )

part one, part two

“Fuck my life.”

“What?” Your best friend, Misaki, asked from the stall beside yours.

You sighed, holding your phone in your hand as you walked out and met up with her at the sinks. You hadn’t even needed to use the restroom, you just wanted to check your messages in private.

“This asshole might actually be decent.” You rolled your eyes as you sent a text back.

“Dynamight?!” She smirked, trying to peek over your shoulder, but you were quick to shield your screen from her and exclaim that she’d get water on your dress if she didn’t quit being nosy while washing up.

“Great Explosion Murder God Dynamight.” You corrected with a grin,“But yeah I guess mostly everyone calls him Dynamight for short.”

“The fact that you know his full on dorky hero name tells me all I need, girl.” She said as she reapplied lipgloss in the mirror.

You scoffed,“Uh, if anyone’s down bad, it’s him, look at this text he just sent.”

k (ृ ु*`ω´)ु: Just leave the lame ass party.

k (ृ ु*`ω´)ु: I’ll come get you.

Misaki gasped,“You dirty little slut, you wouldn’t actually leave me here to go see him would you?”

You hid your face with your hair as you contemplated your answer,“...noooo.”

“You hesitated.”

“Okay, maybe I would like to see him tonight...” You relented,“Would you hate my guts?”

“Not if you call me tomorrow to hash out all the details of your dirty little tryst with the number two hero.” She grinned devilishly.

Lucky for you that no one else had walked into the bathroom since the both of you came in here, you didn’t need everyone hearing all the details of your private life.

“Deal.”

You neglected to tell her that you’d already texted him back.

y/n ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁): how soon can you get here

k (ृ ु*`ω´)ु: Already left, be there in ten.

y/n ʚ♡⃛ɞ(ू•ᴗ•ू❁): meet u outside xo

You left once you saw Misaki make it back to the rest of your friends, waving to them and blowing a kiss from the door before heading to the front of the building and grabbing your coat.

You were just about to put it on when a pair of hands ripped the material from your hold and a voice stated,“Let me help you.”

You watched dumbfounded as Katsuki Bakugo held out your jacket for you, he raised his eyebrow at you, holding it closer to your arms and indicating for you to put them through when you just stared,“Don’t have all night, c’mon, baby.”

You couldn’t help roll your eyes as you finally put it on,“Actually, we do have all night.” You turned around and he carefully pulled your hair out from underneath before his palm found your cheek, a soft caress that had you leaning in instinctively. “How’s it looking out there?”

“Bunch of paps, I’m sorry, they must’ve already known you were here.” He placed a kiss on your cheek as his official hello to you,“Just say the word and I’ll blast them all to hell.”

You snorted,“Yeah, right, and with it your career.” You rolled your eyes again and took his hand in yours,“C’mon, might as well face the music.”

You walked out together, lights flashing in your faces from the moment you opened the door and the paparazzi realized it was you. They began shouting louder once they realized who was with you, Bakugo took the lead though, using a strong arm to push people away from you and yelling,“Touch her and you die!”

Hot, you thought to yourself as you smirked and allowed him to pull you along. Who needed security when you had the number two hero on your arm?

He brought you around to his car,“Dunce face and ears are gonna kill me tomorrow.”

“Who?” You asked, confused.

“My dumb friends.” He scoffed,“They’re huge fans of you, once they realized I’ve kept you a secret they’re gonna freak out and yell at me.”

You chuckled,“Well my friends know so you can tell yours anything you want… within reason.”

He gave you a smug grin and opened the door for you, holding out his hand for you to get in carefully with the tall heels you were wearing. He went around the car and got in himself, finally allowing himself to indulge in a deep kiss now that you had the privacy.

It wasn’t until the next morning when it all began, Misaki spamming your phone with texts and calls about the news articles and asking you to please avoid social media.

You didn’t, of course, too curious for your own good.

You leaned closer into Katsuki’s warmth as you read through the headlines and saw the photos snapped of the two of you hand in hand, your accounts were worse… people online didn’t bother to hide their displeasure. You were suddenly blind, your taste questionable, and everyone was saying you had terrible judgement.

And yet, you couldn’t help disagree as you felt a kiss on the back of your neck and the grip around your waist become slightly tighter.

This thing you had was good, you knew it.

#bnha #boku no hero academia #mha #my hero academia #bakugo katsuki #katsuki bakugo #bakugo katsuki x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #ʕ•́ᴥ•̀ʔっ #vanishingstarrs

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mrprettywhenhecries · 4 months ago

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worth the squeeze [s.h]

Two. Hey, Video Boy

↪︎ a Stranger Things/The Girl Next Door AU

Steve Harrington ✗ f!Reader

➺ w.c. 3.1k words ➺ tags/warning(s). no use of y/n, reader character uses she/her pronouns, sexual tension, reader is a vicious flirt ➺ a/n. I know it's been a while between updates, so thank you for your patience! Hopefully you're all still as excited about this fic as I am. A huge shout out to @batterycityghoul & @super-unpredictable98 for being my beta-readers and helping me pin down Steve's voice. I couldn’t do this without you guys. ➺ Dividers by @/cafekitsune.

Comments and reblogs are greatly appreciated! 💚

Steve tells his friends about his lucky encounter the night before, only for you to show up at the video store to visit him at work and invite yourself over for a movie night afterwards.

[ masterlist]

“Dude, you never called me back last night!” Tommy exclaimed, leaning against the front counter as Steve checked in a stack of returned tapes, pausing between scanning each case to type something into the computer. “Did anything happen after she caught you watching her?” he asked, wearing his usual shit-eating grin.

“Wait, what? Who’re you talking about?” Robin asked from the terminal next to him, and Steve gave a start, realizing he’d forgotten to tell her about the girl next door, too distracted by the memory of the night before.

“Oh yeah, right,” he exclaimed, snapping his fingers. “There’s this girl that just moved in next door—well, she’s staying there while her aunt’s away—but, I uh, I accidentally saw her changing through the window—”

“Steve!” Robin interrupted with a disgusted groan while Tommy barked a laugh.

“Yeah, accidentally,” he snickered, making Robin roll her eyes.

“Alright, so then what happened?” she asked, folding her arms across her chest, sensing there was more to the story.

Steve leaned back against the counter, pitching his voice a little lower in case any customers were within earshot.

“So then, she showed up at my front door, acting like nothing happened, even though I know she saw me, but I took a chance and invited her in.”

“Oh, shit!” Tommy exclaimed, bouncing excitedly on his toes, his impish grin growing. “Did you bone her? Please tell me you boned her!”

Steve’s grin grew strained and he cleared his throat. “I mean, not exactly,” he mumbled, rubbing the back of his neck, his eyes darting away. “We went out to the pool and she told me it was only fair that I strip for her, since I got a show...”

“Oh my God,” Robin snorted, covering her smirk. “I like this girl already.”

“So, she got you naked and nothing happened?” Tommy scoffed in disbelief, throwing his hands in the air as he pushed back from the counter.

“We went skinny dipping and we… almost kissed," Steve muttered.

“You didn’t even kiss her? What the hell is wrong with you, man?” Tommy cried incredulously. “Sounds like she was practically begging for it and you choked. God, you’re such a pussy!”

“I didn’t choke!” Steve exclaimed defensively, his brows knitting together. “I just don’t want her to be just another notch in my bedpost,” he sighed.

“Well, I for one, am proud of your restraint,” Robin said, pointedly ignoring the obnoxious face Tommy made in response. “For once you’re not acting like a complete dingus.”

“Thanks Robin,” Steve murmured, pushing his hair from his eyes. “I promised her a real date, but I’m still trying to decide where to take her,” he mused, planting his hands on his hips.

Tommy snapped his fingers before pointing at Steve. “Tina’s party tomorrow night!” he exclaimed. “It’ll be perfect.”

Steve nodded slowly.

“That might be good actually,” he agreed, brightening at the idea.

“A party?” Robin scoffed. “You really want your first official date to be some shitty house party?” she asked, earning herself a sneer from Tommy.

“What, you jealous cause you didn’t get invited, Buckley?” he taunted, his grin turning ugly.

“No, those parties are just lame excuses for people to get wasted and rub up on each other so they can forget for a moment just how depressing their sad little lives are,” she countered with a scoff.

“Oh yeah, she’s jealous,” Tommy laughed, smacking his palm on the counter before pointing at Steve again. “I’ll see you there, buddy,” he said, bobbing his eyebrows before turning on his heel and heading for the door. “Can’t wait to meet this new babe of yours!”

As soon as Tommy was gone, Robin fixed Steve with an unimpressed stare. “Remind me again why you’re still friends with him?”

Steve glanced at the door ruefully before back at Robin. “We’ve been friends since elementary school,” he explained with a helpless shrug.

“Yeah well, he’s a dick.”

“You used to think that about me too, remember?” Steve reminded her, picking up the stack of tapes he’d just checked in and dropping them on a cart to re-shelve.

“Yeah, but you changed. He hasn’t,” Robin snorted, pushing the cart down the first aisle.

“Do you really think inviting her to Tina’s party is a bad idea?” Steve asked, looking down at the case in his hand before handing it to Robin.

“Cause I didn’t wanna come on too strong,” he said, gesturing with his hands as he searched for the right words to explain. “I dunno, I’ve just done the whole dinner and a movie thing so many times and they always end the same…”

Robin nodded. “I guess I see what you mean,” she agreed reluctantly. “But do you think taking her to a party is gunna end any differently?” she asked, raising a skeptical eyebrow at him.

The door opened with a chime and Robin recited the official Family Video greeting without looking up, but Steve froze when he realized who had just walked in.

“Hey!” he exclaimed, louder than he’d meant to, and you grinned as he stepped around Robin. “What’re you doing here?” he asked, wincing at how it sounded. “I mean, not that you can’t be here or anything! You just… surprised me,” he explained quickly, trying to lean nonchalantly against the shelf and missing, stumbling backward for a moment before righting himself, a disgruntled look on his face at his lack of coordination.

You had to bite your lip not to laugh, not wanting to bruise Steve’s ego further. “I’ve been going around town, getting some job applications, and I thought I’d stop by to say ‘hi’, if that’s okay,” you said, offering Steve a smile and he was quick to nod.

“Yeah, of course it’s okay, you can stop by anytime! I-it’s good to see you,” he exclaimed, wearing a dazed grin of his own that faltered when Robin cleared her throat next to him.

“Oh, uhm, this is my friend, Robin,” he said, gesturing to her before introducing you.

“It’s nice to meet you,” you chuckled, shaking Robin’s hand.

“Same,” she exclaimed, a wicked grin twisting her lips. “You musta made quite the impression on Steve here, because he has not shut up about you,” he said, turning her cheshire smile on Steve and your brows rose at the colour that rushed to his face.

“Really?” you asked, cocking an eyebrow at him, finding his reaction adorably endearing.

Steve cleared his throat and shrugged, reaching back to rub sheepishly at his neck. “I might’ve mentioned something about you.”

“Uh huh,” you replied skeptically, your lips curling, but you didn’t push it. “So, are you doing anything later, video boy?” you asked, idly picking up one of the nearby VHS sleeves from the shelf to glance at before setting it back. “I know technically we haven’t gone on an official date yet, but I was wondering if you’d like to watch a movie together at your place tonight?”

Steve swallowed, trying desperately to keep his thoughts pure, and struggling.

“Yeah, sure,” he answered, a lopsided grin tugging at his lips. “I’ll even let you pick out the movie.”

“Oh, you’ll let me? How chivalrous of you,” you teased, ambling down the aisle with the new releases.

“Any genres to avoid?” you asked, your eyes flicking to Steve as he followed.

“Uh, not really,” he admitted. “Though, I prefer comedies.”

You nodded, thinking for a moment, letting your gaze scan the shelves before plucking out a tape. “How ‘bout Better Off Dead? Or have you seen that already?” you asked, half figuring he’d already seen most of the films there.

“Actually, I haven’t, but it sounds good,” Steve replied, peering over your shoulder at the box in your hand.

“You mean you work at a video store and you’re not some hardcore cinephile?” you asked with a smirk and Steve shrugged a shoulder, running a hand through his hair, pushing it to the side.

“Nah, not really.”

“He’s hopeless!” Robin called from across the store, her cart of returns nearly empty. “I was the only reason he got this job in the first place. This dingus knows next to nothing about movies,” she laughed, making your smirk grow.

“Well, maybe I can educate you then,” you said, turning back to Steve, finding him closer than you realized and your breath hitched.

“I like the sound of that,” he replied, tilting his head in closer, his breath fanning across your cheek.

“Good, I’ll see you at seven then, and I’ll bring the popcorn,” you said, wetting your lips as you lifted your chin, lingering in his space for a moment longer before slipping around him to head to the counter, turning back to him with a playful grin.

“You gunna check me out, video boy?” you teased, and he had to take a moment to compose himself before following, flashing you a wry look.

“I’ll put it on my account, employee discount,” Steve said as you passed him the case and he scanned the barcode on the back. “Just don’t forget to return it in two days. I’d hate to get hit with a late fee,” he joked, his eyes flicking up to yours playfully.

“Don’t worry, I’m pretty sure I’ll be in here frequently, for one reason or another,” you said, taking the tape and waving to Robin. “See you later!” you called, returning your focus to Steve with a wink. “And I’ll see you later.”

As soon as you turned to leave, Robin joined Steve behind the counter.

“I definitely like her,” she said, nudging him with her shoulder. “You better not mess this up.”

“Yeah, no shit,” Steve breathed, finally tearing his gaze away from the door and letting his forehead fall to the counter.

It was only a few minutes past seven when you rang the Harringtons’ doorbell, finally having settled on an outfit after trying on and discarding several—wanting to be comfortable, but still look cute. Steve opened the door with a grin, sparing a moment to look you up and down before stepping aside and ushering you in.

“I brought some Jiffy Pop,” you said, handing him the little aluminum pan and heading for the kitchen.

“Perfect,” Steve replied, following you. “Can’t watch a movie without fresh popped popcorn,” he exclaimed, setting the pan on the burner and twisting the knob.

“Exactly,” you agreed, jumping up to sit on the counter nearby to wait for the burner to heat up, the little metal coil turning orange.

“So, where all did you get job applications for?” Steve asked, giving the foil pan a shake as several kernels popped inside.

“Oh geeze, all over,” you sighed, running through your list of stops. “The movie theater, the drug store, a couple gas stations, the book store, oh, and that insurance place on the corner; they’re looking for a secretary.”

The popping grew louder and the foil packet began to grow, soon doubling in size, puffing up into a large dome, steam escaping from the little hole at the top. Steve turned off the stove and pulled the popcorn off the burner, pouring it into a large tupperware bowl sitting on the counter.

“Wow, sounds like a bit of everything.”

“Yeah, right now I can’t exactly afford to be picky,” you murmured, stealing a piece of popcorn and popping it in your mouth.

“Yeah, I hear you,” Steve commiserated, handing you the bowl and opening the fridge to grab a couple cans of pop. “That’s pretty much how I ended up at the video store. Though I gotta say, it’s better than the last job I had slinging ice cream.”

“What was so bad about it?” you asked, following him out to the living room and plopping down on the sofa next to him. “Well, for one, the number of snot nosed brats I had to deal with on a daily basis,” he explained, holding up a finger, “and two, I had to wear this incredibly lame sailor outfit and I looked ridiculous,” he scoffed, adding a second finger before subconsciously running his hand through his hair.

“What?” you cried gleefully, trying to imagine what his little sailor uniform looked like. “I’m sorry, but that sounds adorable!”

“No, you don’t understand, it was awful! Did I mention there was a matching hat?” Steve exclaimed. “It totally messed with my best feature and made me super un-datable.”

“I find that hard to believe,” you countered, knowing you still would’ve given him a chance if he’d been dressed like that when you’d first seen him, instead of his green Family Video vest.

“I’m telling you,” Steve insisted, shaking his head. “Just ask Robin. She had this dumb whiteboard with a tally of all the times I struck out,” he added and you couldn’t help but laugh, warmed by the grin that curved his lips despite the unpleasant memory.

Your laughter died down and Steve reached for the remote, starting the movie.

“So, was the ice cream gig your first job?” you asked, grabbing a handful of popcorn as he cracked open his Coke for a sip.

“Mm, yeah,” he answered, swallowing and setting the can down. “Dad wanted to teach me a lesson,” he murmured, heaving a breath as his gaze lowered. “I used to be… kind of an asshole,” he admitted.

“Used to be?” you joked, smirking as Steve’s head snapped up and his mouth fell open.

“Hey!” he yelped, though the corners of his mouth twitched and you stuck your tongue out at him playfully.

“Just for that, no more popcorn for you!” he teased, yanking the bowl away from you and you let out a gasp, leaning across him to reach for it, your fingers straining.

“I take it back!” you laughed, your face warming when you realized you were practically draped across Steve’s lap, and by the pink flush that crept across his cheeks, you guessed he was quite aware of it as well, though he made no move to relent and if you stretched any farther, you’d tumble off the side of the couch.

“I dunno, I don’t think you’re all that sorry,” Steve mused, narrowing his eyes at you.

Biting back a smile, you pulled back, flashing him the most innocent face you could make. “I’ll be nice the rest of the night, promise,” you insisted, tracing an X over your heart and Steve cracked, rolling his eyes.

“Alright, but you’re on thin ice,” he warned with a grin, handing you back the bowl of popcorn.

On the tv screen, the previews had just ended and the opening credits began, punctuated by a scream as a little animated woman was kidnapped by a monster.

Settling in to watch the movie, you felt Steve shift next to you as if he wanted to move closer, but was gauging your reaction, not wanting to overstep. When you didn’t pull away, Steve’s eyes darted to you and he chewed his lip. Clearing his throat softly, he stretched, nonchalantly lowering his arm behind your head to rest against the back of the couch.

Smiling to yourself, you tucked your legs up under you and leaned into his side. Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed the pleased smile that crossed his face and you reached for some more popcorn, resting your head against his shoulder.

“So, uhm, there’s this party tomorrow night, and I was thinking we could go together,” Steve ventured casually, glancing over at you, his grin turning uncertain. “I mean, if you wanted. I know it’s not exactly a typical first date, but I thought, y’know, it might be fun, and I could introduce you to some people, since you don’t know anyone else in town–”

“Steve,” you said, interrupting his nervous ramble, amusement tinging your voice.

“Yeah?” he asked, cutting off, a hopeful look flickering across his face.

“I’d like that.”

Steve let out a long breath, relaxing muscles he hadn’t noticed he’d tensed.

“You know, you’re pretty cute when you’re all flustered,” you teased and he frowned, his brows furrowing slightly.

“I wasn’t flustered,” he argued.

“Uh huh,” you hummed skeptically, studying his face, mapping every mole and committing their positions to memory before finding his eyes.

“I thought you said you were gunna be nice,” he murmured, wetting his lips as he leaned in.

“I did, didn’t I?” you breathed, your eyelids fluttering as you leaned in as well, your breath catching in anticipation, the movie playing on forgotten in the background.

However, when the front door opened with a bang, followed by a pair of loud voices, your heart leapt into your throat with a jolt and your eyes snapped open to see Steve jerk back, his head whipping around.

“Mom! Dad! You’re back–” he yelped, half rising from the couch and his parents finally seemed to notice the pair of you, straightening hastily, embarrassed they’d been caught mid-argument in front of a stranger.

“I didn’t expect you to be back so soon,” he exclaimed, pausing the movie.

“There was a change of plans,” Mrs. Harrington said, a subtle terseness to her voice that you couldn’t help but notice, remembering what Steve had said about his parents’ precarious relationship. “We didn’t mean to interrupt, we weren’t aware you’d have company,” she added, eyeing you curiously and you got to your feet, rounding the couch to introduce yourself. “It’s nice to meet you both,” you said, shaking their hands once you’d given your name. “I’m staying with my aunt next door for a while, and Steve’s been sweet enough to show me around,” you explained, flashing him a smile.

Mr. Harrington seemed distracted, as if he had something else on his mind and couldn’t wait for the conversation to be over, while Mrs. Harrington nodded a little vapidly.

“It’s nice to meet you too, dear. Please, don’t let us interrupt,” she said, nodding to the television and your paused movie. “Bill, I need a drink,” she said, ambling out of the room and Mr. Harrington let out an audibly annoyed sigh, grumbling under his breath before picking up his suitcase and following her. Steve groaned softly, a grimace marring his expression. “I’m sorry about them… they weren’t supposed to be back yet,” he murmured ruefully.

“It’s okay,” you replied, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze, wanting to steer his mind away from his parents. “Let’s watch the rest of the movie, shall we?” you suggested, pulling him back to the couch, and getting comfortable again.

“Yeah, okay," Steve replied, letting himself be led. As he started up the tape again, he couldn’t help but grin, wrapping an arm around your shoulders. “Thanks,” he whispered, his eyes meeting yours, a meaningful look passing between you.

“Any time.”

➺ taglist. @super-unpredictable98 @heartbreak-sandwich @santacarlahorrorshow @sailorskunk @whimsicalwadewinstonwilson

@thecreelhouse @melodymunson @corrodeddeadlydoll @stevesxyellowxsweater @destroya2005

@steviespookie @blueberrylemontea-fanfic @corrodeddeadlydoll @girlwiththerubyslippers

#steve harrington #steve harrington x reader #stranger things #steve harrington x you #steve harrington fan fiction #fic: worth the squeeze #joz.fic

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2tarbell · 4 months ago

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okay but like how did twee!reader and rafe become official, i feel like rafe would carve "be my girlfriend?" on an apple or something 😭

oh YES he’s sooooo lame and soft for her… i see him either using a scary little knife to carve into an apple for her OR…. he tries to sew!!!! handing her a piece of scrap fabric soon as she opens the front door, his hands all covered in little cuts and knicks from the needle :C messily stitched into the fabric is ‘date me?’

“couldn’t— couldn’t really figure this shit out but uh— yeah. here, kid…”

obviously she says yes!!! pulling him inside and putting cute little bandaids on his fingers. kissing him all over and saying how sweet he is. <3 def might write a full fic of this!!!! ty nonnie 🍎

#twee!reader #rafe cameron #rafe cameron imagine #rafe cameron x reader #rafe outer banks #fanfic #outer banks #rafe cameron smut #drew starkey #drew starkey x reader

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reallyromealone · 6 months ago

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Title: accidentally kidnapping the mafia boss

Fandom: haikyuu

Characters: kuroo, bokoto

Fic type: fluff

Pairings: kuroo x reader, akaashi x bokoto

Warnings: male reader, reader insert, slow burn, readers oblivious, choking, threats, bleeding

Notes: want bam

🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸🌸

(Name) Hummed as he dragged a cool vintage luggage chest home on his dolly-- an amazing investment he will always treasure-- having seen it on his way home and running to grab his dolly to get it "damn this things heavy..." (Name) Grumbled as he pulled it carefully up the stairs as to not damage the stairs or break the chest though it seemed sturdy.

"Ok... And into my apartment..." (Name) Mumbled unlocking the door and bringing it in excitedly before moving it to the ground "easy..." He whispered to himself and marvelled at the amazing chest "let's see what's inside" grabbing his trusty chain cutters he kept after neighbor put a lock on (name)s mailbox-- he was still mad at that old fart.

Cracking it open he carefully lifted it to see... "Holy fuck that's a person" (name) noticed the stab marks in the side for air as the man was sweating and exhausted "sir?!" He panicked as he noticed bruises "fuck..." The black haired man was disoriented before looking at the man before him and immediately (name) was on the ground with a hand around his throat "who fuck are you?"

"I... Can... Ask the same..." (Name) Wheezed as he gripped the man's tattooed arm desperately to get it off and the man glared but loosened his grip and (name) gasped "where am I?" The man seethed, looking around the room at the tiny apartment "my apartment, I thought this was a cool trunk and took it home... Wasn't expecting you"

"Shit..." The black haired man stood up slowly and hissed in pain, (name) looked alarmed "dude you're bleeding! Let me get my med kit!" (Name) Immediately scurried off to grab said item as kuroo stumbled to the couch, brief thoughts about its comfort as he rested a bit and tried to sort his thoughts. "ok, so I have hello kitty and pokemon gauze, which one you want" (name) asked and kuroo looked confused "what? Regular gauze is lame"

(Name) Helped him remove his sweaty and tattered shirt before beginning to clean his wound "thankfully they missed any important bits, I can stitch you but you may need a shot of vodka or something" (name) teased as he began patching him up the best he could with the finite skills he had, humming softly as he worked. Kuroo was staring at him intently, why was he so calm? He just found a dude in a chest he brought home! "Aaand there!" (Name) Seemed pleased with himself as he patched up the other, a grin on his face "you should rest for a bit, do you have anyone to call?" (Name) Asked while getting up to walk to the kitchen only a few feet away "uh, yeah..." Kuroo was awkward to say the least.

(Name) Put a few rice balls on a plate and a cup before walking back, setting them infront of him. Pulling out his phone he pulled the call screen up and handed it to kuroo "here, to get your strength up"

Kuroo quickly dialed his right hands number, tapping his foot as it rang a few times "speak"

"Bokoto, it's kuroo" the mob boss said simply and bokotos tone changed "where are you?! I have been looking for you for two days!" The owl like man yelled worried and kuroo looked to (name) "what's your address " (name) perked up at the question"(address)!"

"Who was that?"

"My accidental captor, don't worry the kittens as harmful as a daisy"

"That's good, we will be there in 30"

"Excellent, bring me a new shirt"

"On it!"

Hanging up kuroo signed and (name) let out a small laugh "what's so funny?"

"This is such a weird day!"

"Yeah... It is pretty weird" Kuroo chuckled lowly as he looked at the other "you're weirdly calm for finding someone choking you out" (name) shrugged "I would have been pretty hostile if I was stuck in a trunk for god knows how long and in an unknown place" kuroo looked at the bruising around (name)s neck and frowned, he was too cute to have bruises like that... Well at least in the context they existed in.

Kuroo leaned and gently touched (name)s Adams apple, the reddish bruise forming on his neck in the shape of kuroos hand "sorry about this" he whispered and looked into (name)s eyes as the other man looked back at him. The two were close, very close and kuroo decided he wanted to kiss his little kidnapper.

BAM BAM BAM

"YO KUROO, ITS ME!" Bokoto called from the apartment door, and kuroo grumbled and pulled away "One minute!" The buff man got up and walked to the door, swinging it open to reveal another buff man. "Whose this?" Bokoto asked seriously as he nodded to the cutie on the couch "oh this is... Fuck I forgot to ask your name" kuroo said to the other who just smiled "I'm (name)! Sorry for accidentally kidnapping you!" Bokoto now understood why kuroo called him a kitten, sweet smile and no regards for the dangerous men in the room that could kill him.

"Would you like something to drink?" (Name) Offered and kuroo wanted to laugh at the absurdity of this all as bokoto shrugged and sat on a chair.

"Accidentally got kidnapped by a twink with a nice ass" bokoto teased as he looked at the man preparing drinks and snacks "better grab him before Akaashi spots him" his husband loved cuties like this, kuroo glaring at the concept of his best friend and right hands husband touching (name).

Wait what.

Why did he care?

And that grin on bokotos face said it all, kuroo was into the dumb pretty boy who came in with snacks and drinks.

Kuroo took a bite from his rice ball with a sigh, this was gonna be troublesome.

#x male reader #male reader #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #hq x male reader #hq x reader #kuroo x male reader #kuroo x reader #anime x male reader #anime x reader

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wheredidhiseyebrowsgo · 6 months ago

Note

So… I already have like 70 Sterek fic tabs open on my phone (there’s so many good authors in this fandom it’s not my fault!) but I was thinking that despite some fantastic tumblr posts about it I don’t think I’ve actually read a necromancer!Stiles fic.

I went through your fabulous tag page but I didn’t see one so hopefully I didn’t miss it. If you or your loverly followers have any recs I sure would appreciate it!

(And no rush, I seriously have so many tabs but I am greedy)

Hi @arora-kayd! @kevaaronday made this list for you.

Murder, Magic and a Masterclass in Denial by Noxnthea (9/9 | 41,940 | Explicit | Sterek) “No, seriously, I need to talk to you really quick,” Stiles interrupts. “Before Peter gets out here.”

Derek braces himself. “Okay.”

“I need you to make sure I can be alone with the body for a few minutes.”

Derek stares at him. “You get that that’s like…a really weird request, right?”

In the three months since Derek left the NYPD and joined the FBI’s Behavioral Analysis Unit, he’s gotten used to a lot of things: he’s learned to deal with seeing Peter every day, he knows how to hide his enhanced senses on the job, and he doesn’t mind the late nights and early mornings.

One thing he’s still not used to, however, is Stiles Stilinski.

You only Live Once… or Twice by WonderWolf (6/6 | 32,949 | Explicit | Sterek) “Anything,” Derek’s eyes are determined, boring into Stiles’.

Stiles huffs a laugh, “Careful there, big guy. Don’t want to be promising anything to every necromancer you meet. Some might ask for your soul or someth—”

“I’ll give you my soul to bring her back,” Derek says, his voice steady and strong with resolve, “if that’s what you want.”

Stiles’ mouth gapes open for a moment before his brain kicks into gear and he stutters out, “N-no, I don’t ask for that. I only ask for money.”

(Or the one in which Stiles is a necromancer who needs help stopping a rogue alpha and Derek is the solution, but at what cost?)

I See Dead People by Asteria_Star (13/13 | 15,318 | Teen | Sterek) Stiles has been able to see Ghosts for as long as he could remember. Having a ghost tell you that you are a necromancer and that the supernatural exists was nothing. What isn't nothing is trying to navigate your best friend becoming a werewolf while trying to hide what you are.

Features Stiles and Talia having a mother-son dynamic that I didn't know I needed.

Sarcasm, Suspicion and Raising the Dead: A Necromancer’s Guide to Getting the Guy (Your Murderer and/or Your Boyfriend) by Aerica_Menai (1/1 |13,917 | Teen | Sterek) Stiles met Derek’s blue, blue eyes - still striking, even bloodshot from crying - as he slid into the other side of the booth. Immediately, the request came tumbling forward: “Could - would you bring her back?”

“I can - I will - but only temporarily,” Stiles warned.

“Thank you,” he breathed. “Whatever extra time I get with her will be - “ He took a deep breath as his voice broke. “ - appreciated,” he finally choked out.

And that’s when Stiles knew he was in trouble.

formed in the very poetry of nature by frankie_31 (4/4 | 7,984 | Explicit | Steter) Stiles can raise the dead. Stiles can put them back down. But what happens when one of his undead minions stays up?

Peter Hale is back from the dead. Kind of. And he'd like to stay that way.

Burial Rituals by aurevell (1/1 | 4,989 | Gen | Sterek) The necromancer freezes halfway over the fence, stuttering to a halt the second Derek flashes his red eyes. It’s an awkward pose to hold: leg hiked up over the waist-high bars, hands gripping the rail for balance. The fence’s wrought-iron spears dig into his calf a bit as he settles, clearly caught off guard.

“Uh,” he says lamely, his face pale in the scant moonlight. “Shit.”

Derek guards an abandoned cemetery. Stiles is the necromancer trying to break in.

#teen wolf #sterek #stiles stilinski #derek hale #magic!stiles

272 notes · View notes

writingtraumaforever · 1 month ago

Text

Courtship: Chapter 3 (Finale)

Notes: AAAAAAAAAND DONE. This was such a joy to write, guys. I love the movie-verse so, so much, and I'm glad I was motivated enough to write a little fic about our two favorite boys. I hope you all enjoyed this as much as I did, and who know! Maybe if the demand is there, I'll write a little epilogue for our two cuties~

Summary: Shadow meets the Wachowski's. Again.

Chapter Select: Chapter 1, Chapter 2

Mini-Sequel: Home Alone

Link to my AO3!

Start:

Sonic is nothing but nervous energy.

He’s been rushing about the entire morning. He took a bubble bath. He bathed Ozzie in the same bath after. He tidied his room. He put on the coolest pictures of him in the living room and the dopey ones in his dresser drawer to not be found. He combed his quills and brushed his fur. He has prepared in every possible way and still feels like things aren’t near good enough for Shadow to be impressed.

Maddie climbs up the ladder to the attic, gently lifting the door to find Sonic moving his action figures around on his shelf as if to try and find some sort of specifically aesthetic organization.

“No..,” he moves them all around again, “nuh uh,” again, “not it,” again with a frustrated groan, “You know what?? He’ll probably think they’re lame anyway.” And then he’s dumping them all in the upper drawer of his nightstand.

Maddie can’t help but smile at her spazzing son, a sympathetic knit to her brow as she knocks gently on his bedroom floor, “Knock knock?”

Sonic’s attention instantly shift to his peeping mom’s head peering through the attic door, “oh- hey, mom.”

“Hey, kiddo,” she smiles, entering now that he’s granted his approval. She looks at the neat room with raised brows, “Wow.. don’t think I’ve ever seen it so clean in here.”

“Yeah, well. I can’t have a guest thinking I’m a slob.”

“Right. Because that would be misleading,” Maddie says with a playful wink and a hint of sarcasm. Sonic just smiles at this, rolling his eyes before dashing over to his comic books that are stacked next to his bean bag. He begins looking through them, trying to decide which should go on top for viewing.

“You think Batman is cooler or the Flash??”

“Hm.. I think the Flash is pretty cool,” the mother answers as she approaches the hedgehog with a knowing look in her eyes.

“Mm… yeah, but..,” he looks at the Batman comic again before stacking the Flash and then the Batman one on top, “Shadow would probably like Batman more.”

“You’re probably right,” Maddie agrees with a nod, Sonic nodding in return as he turns to his mom again.

“Did you get the hot dogs?”

“Yup,” she assures, “Three whole packs. And the chili is currently in the slow cooker.”

“Sweet,” Sonic grins approvingly, “Shadow is gonna die when he tries your chili dogs. He’ll finally understand that they’re the best thing humans have ever invented.”

“Right,” Maddie snorts with a giggle before she crouches down to eye level with the blue blur, watching how Sonic’s eyes skim around the room looking for something else to perfect. Nerves. Anxious. Excited. Scared..

She knows.

“Hey..,” she says softly, catching Sonic’s attention then as she takes his gloved hands into her own, “He already likes you. He wouldn’t be coming here if he didn’t.”

Sonic sighs, some of the tension leaving his shoulders as he squeezes Maddie’s hands, “I know. I know. I just-.. I really want him to think I’m cool.”

“Sonic Wachowski?? Not cool?? That’s an impossible conclusion to come to,” she smirks, Sonic giggling a bit in return.

“I know, but-.. I don’t know..”

Sonic’s ears flatten just slightly, his gaze shifting away sheepishly. And nervously..

Maddie’s smile softens again, squeezing his hands again as she speaks, “Try and relax. If you’re a nervous ball of energy, he likely will feed off that and be one too. Being cool is a nice thing to be, but being welcoming is the more important bit.. You want him to feel safe here.”

“Yeah..,” Sonic breathes with a small smile, looking at his mother earnestly, “..I just want him to want to come back.”

“I’m sure he will,” she assures with a nod, moving to kiss her boy’s spiky forehead before resting hers against it to look him in the eye, “It’ll all go just fine, Sonic. You’re a great kid.”

“I’m seventeen,” Sonic groans with a little eyeroll, but it’s harmless and he’s smiling. He knows good and well no matter how old he is, he’ll always be her baby.

“I’m sorry, you’re a great man,” she corrects with pure confidence, “And you have a big heart. I’m sure he sees that too, and finds comfort in that…”

Sonic’s eyes shut with a sigh, leaning his forehead against his mom’s a bit more before simply moving to slide his arms around her shoulders and give her a big hedgehog hug.

“Thanks mom..”

She pets her hand along his head and rubs his ear with a smile, hugging him in return tight and warm, “Anytime.”

Sonic stays like that until he feels most of his nerves melt away, pulling back then to look her in the eye with all seriousness, “Dad’s gonna behave, right???”

Maddie hums and looks away as if unsure, “I think so,” she immediately laughs when Sonic’s face shifts to horror and gives his shoulders a playful shake, “Calm down, I’m kidding. We had a talk. And he absolutely is going to behave. As are the other boys.”

Sonic deflates with a breath of relief, “Oh thank God—“

Maddie giggles and stands up again, lightly thumping Sonic’s ear and making it twitch in the process as she turns to exit the attic, “Try and relax a bit. You’re gonna run a hole in the ceiling if you keep at it up here.”

Sonic just scoffs in playful offense, “Is that a fat joke?!”

“It’s a warning,” Maddie says with a pointed look his way as she climbs down the ladder, slowly closing the door on her way down. She playfully points at him in mock threat just before it shuts, leaving Sonic chuckling before moving to his bed.

He sits down carefully on the edge, not wanting to have to make it again. Laying back with a heavy sigh, he stares at his ceiling and tries to ignore the very aggressive butterflies that are multiplying in his stomach..

•••

Shadow has prepared himself appropriately according to his research.

He anointed himself in his favorite scent: lavender and coffee. He combed his quills neatly. He brushed his chest fur to get any knots out. He’s even wearing an extra article of clothing: a black leather jacket. And to impress Sonic’s parents, he bought two motorcycle helmets to show he cares about safety, wearing one when he shows up at their driveway.

He read motorcycles are often an alarming sign to most guardians for their children to be associated with, but Sonic once told him that Mr. Wachowski thought they were ‘way past cool’. So he opted to try and impress the man by catering to his interests.

Parking the bike on the street at the end of the driveway, Shadow removes his helmet and rests it on the seat. His crimson eyes stare at the Wachowski residence for a long time. A sick feeling in his stomach.

Maybe he’s ill.

No.. no, lying to himself is pointless. He’s terrified.

He doesn’t get the luxury of domineering first impressions. He’s already made them long ago, and they weren’t exactly ideal. None of this situation is, honestly. But he has to play the cards he was dealt, and he’s determined to try his damn hardest to win this family over.

He’s watched YouTube tutorials on how to hold conversation, dinner etiquette, appropriate movie watching commentary, manners when meeting parents, common humans topics of conversation..

He’s done his research. Theoretically, this should be a walk in the park.

So why the hell couldn’t he get his feet to move???

He stares at the home. Can see the lights on, humans silhouetted and moving about through the sheer curtains of the windows.. and one blue blur flashing by now and then.

Shadow’s lips purse, his fists tightening at his sides as his stomach aches a bit more uneasily.

Sonic is inside.. Sonic is depending on him to make a good impression. Sonic has done his part in this ritual, now it’s time for Shadow to do his and-…

Nope. No, what is he thinking?? Shadow can’t do this. He doesn’t deserve this. He’s a fraud. He doesn’t deserve redemption or forgiveness. He doesn’t get to just waltz into their home and act as though he’s just some random hedgehog their son brought home.

He nearly destroyed them.

Picking his helmet back off his motorcycle’s seat, he starts to put it back on with one last glance to the Wachowski home.

The home untouched by a monster. The home he hasn’t destroyed yet. The home that doesn’t need him involved in it..

And ruby finds emerald.

Sonic’s wide, eager eyes are looking out the window in search of his guest’s arrival and find Shadow standing there.

Damnit.

The front door opens in an instant, the blue blur standing there grinning wide and excited and happy. Shadow can see his tail wagging from here.

“Shadow!”

Shadow slowly puts his helmet back on the seat of his bike.

Welp.

No going back now.

Walking around the bike, Shadow offers a small smile to Sonic despite his current need to vomit. Or run. Running sounds more convenient.

”You’re here!” Sonic beams, and Shadow swears he’s never seen the hero so damn giddy.

“I am,” he confirms with a small nod, approaching the steps to the doorway now and stopping right outside the door.

Sonic just stares at him all sunshine and giggles for a long moment, Shadow feeling increasingly weary under his starstruck gaze.

This hedgehog expects far too much of Shadow.. he’s going to end up crushed when he sees him for what he really is eventually. But Shadow will selfishly take whatever attention Sonic will give him for now.

There’s something powerful about it.. a pure-hearted hero like Sonic wanting to court Shadow. The monstrosity. The creature. The thing.

Shadow wonders if Sonic even realizes how much of an impact the way he looks at Shadow has on him..

Sonic’s eyes linger and then look down at Shadow’s attire, “You’re wearing a jacket!”

Shadow shifts a bit on his feet, looking down at his jacket with slight embarrassment now.. maybe it wasn’t the appropriate choice?

“I.. am..?”

“It looks great!” Sonic beams, bouncing on his toes as he bites his lower lip.

“Oh..,” Shadow looks back to Sonic, a shy smile curling on his muzzle, “Thank you.”

“Sure thing,” Sonic replies immediately, going back to just staring at Shadow as if he isn’t real. Like he’s a dream. A vision.

Shadow doesn’t know what to do with that..

“May I—“

“Oh! Yeah, man, sorry—“ Sonic chuckles with a pink tint growing on his cheeks, moving out of the way to allow Shadow inside the home. Shadow steps inside and is immediately met with the smell of peppers and mahogany. He’s guessing it’s the dinner mixed with the natural Wachowski home scent. It’s not unpleasant.

Sonic closes the door behind him, and Shadow looks up to find the Donut Lord and Pretzel Lady themselves looking right back at him.

Oh sweet chaos kill him—

”Hello, Mr. And Mrs. Wachowski,” Shadow greets immediately, nerves making his hands feel a bit shaky but he steels them into hard fists at his sides.

The missus of the home speaks first, “Hello, Shadow.” Her voice is soft and sweet, and her smile looks genuine and welcoming. “We’re so happy to have you here. Welcome to our home!”

“Thank you for allowing my attendance,” Shadow politely nods, swallowing hard as his eyes shift to the man. The father. The leader. The Donut Lord.

He doesn’t look nearly as genuine as the woman when he smiles. But he is smiling, which is something, at least.

Last Shadow saw this man, he had a foot placed firmly on his neck with a gun pressed to his temple.

Shadow will gladly and gratefully take a damn disingenuous smile.

“Of course,” the man assures, seeming a bit reluctant in his words but Shadow recognizes the effort regardless, “Any friend of Sonic’s is always welcome.”

Even if they blew up half the moon???

Shadow refrains from saying this.

“You have a lovely home, Mrs. Wachowski,” Shadow compliments, trying for some of the training he received from the Internet, “It’s very well decorated.”

“Oh- that’s so sweet,” she smiles, a hand over her heart as if it’s been touched. Shadow is glad this seems to have been the right thing to say.

“Why don’t you let Sonic give you a tour, and I’ll the table set for us to eat out back?”

“Sounds great!” Sonic approves, Shadow looking back to the hedgehog that’s been standing behind him watching the interaction with pins and needles this whole time, “C’mon! We’ll start with the living room.”

Shadow follows Sonic throughout the home, feeling Mr. Wachowski’s lingering gaze now and then when in sight. But Shadow tries not to focus on this and instead on the words Sonic is saying.

“These are our bean bags,” the blue hedgehog points to the line of three large bags, blue, yellow and red, stored against the wall of the living room behind the couch, “We pull them out in front of the tv when we watch a movie or a show. Mine is the blue one— duh. Knuckles’ is red and Tails’ is yellow. Mom and Dad take the couch.”

Shadow nods with a small hum to show he’s paying attention, not having much commentary on the matter. Sonic doesn’t seem to mind this. He makes up by talking enough for the both of them. Always has. This is their dynamic. And the familiarity of it helps Shadow feel a bit more at ease as he continues on with Sonic’s tour.

“This is the dining room where we eat— except we never eat here. We usually just sit in the living room or at the table in the kitchen to eat. We only eat here on special occasions like birthdays or holidays.”

“This is the downstairs bathroom. Always use this bathroom. Knuckles uses it the least.”

“That’s the kitchen, but we’ll stay outta there right now so we don’t get in the way.”

“This is the downstairs office where Dad will do paperwork or Mom will do some vet stuff. Sometimes she brings home animals to foster, and they sleep in here. It’s super cool! Once, she brought home an earth hedgehog. It was super slow.”

“This is the backyard—“

He’s interrupted by instant barking when he opens the door, the family dog having been outside and seemingly waiting at the door for them to join him. Shadow doesn’t like the loud noise, instantly feeling a bit overwhelmed as he takes a small step back with a frown and watches Sonic wrangle the dog by his collar.

“Ozzie! Easy! I know you’re excited we have a guest, but you gotta chill, dawg,” Sonic scolds affectionately, grinning as he tugs the pup away from the door to allow Shadow to step out without being tackled.

Shadow does, eyeing the dog and keeping his distance the entire time.

The dog— Ozzie eventually seems to calm, his barking stopping and being replaced with little whines as he eyes Shadow. His tail is wagging like Sonic’s was when he first got here.

Actually, Sonic’s tail hasn’t stopped wagging, Shadow notes.

His ears perk up from their folded back position once the barking stops, observing the dog silently with an unsure gaze..

Sonic picks up on this, offering a hand out to Shadow as he stays crouched at the dog’s side holding its collar with his opposing hand, “It’s cool. He don’t bite.”

Shadow frowns a bit, looking at Sonic’s hand a bit unsure before looking to the dog again.. then he hesitantly reaches and lets Sonic’s hand guide his own to the dog’s fur. It’s thick. He imagines it’s probably soft without his gloves on, as most well-kept fur is..

The dog’s head seems to tilt up into his palm when it touches between his ears, Shadow lightly curling his fingers to scratch there as Ozzie’s tongue hangs happily to the side of his muzzle. Panting and no longer whining now that he’s getting his wanted attention and affection.

Shadow’s frown dissipates slowly, replaced with a content sort of expression. He.. likes petting it. It’s comforting.

Shadow smells the distinct scent of grass on his palm when he retracts it from the dog.

“He’s a good boy,” Sonic smiles, petting the dog under its chin and behind its collar, “He likes you, too! That’s a good sign.”

Shadow’s eyes glint with pride at that, eased that he has passed yet another Wachowski test.

They go back inside after Sonic shows Shadow the firepit and then picnic table in the back, walking in to find Tom carrying some plates towards the backdoor..

“Dinner is ready to serve,” the sheriff informs with a small smile at the two, seeming a bit more at ease now that “introductions” have been made, “Go get your brothers, huh?”

“On it,” Sonic nods, waving his hand for Shadow to follow— which he does once he’s done holding the door open for Mr. Wachowski.

“Tails’ room is the basement, “Sonic informs as they approach what Shadow had assumed was a coat closet. Instead, he finds there’s a staircase down when Sonic opens it.

“He was in the guest room, but Dad moved him when he kept waking him up at night tinkering. Said he needed more room to work.”

“That was generous of him,” Shadow replies, following Sonic down the stairs.

“Yeah. Dad is pretty supportive of our hobbies,” Sonic shrugs with a little smile, though he seems to hold a new nervousness now..

Once downstairs, Shadow is a bit taken aback by the sight.

The walls are lined with all sorts of tools and gadgets and gizmos, some he recognizes and some he’s never seen before. The room is very much divided by a workspace and an actual bedroom. The workspace being what Shadow would only describe as organized chaos while the bedroom portion is neat and tidy. Clean and almost looking untouched.

It’s intriguing, the contrast.

A personality for each tail, he supposes.

Speaking of— the young kit himself was found seated at a workbench, headphones over pointed ears and fluffy tails winding together then unwinding again behind him repetitively. He seems locked in on whatever he’s fiddling with, his tongue sticking out and his brows furrowed in concentration. Shadow almost hates to interrupt him, but Sonic approaches without a thought.

“Hey Tails,” the hero lightly nudges his shoulder causing the fox to flinch before quickly removing his headphones to turn to Sonic, “dinner’s ready.”

“Oh sweet! I’m starved!” the smaller one grins, “Just let me—“ his smile drops, eyes widening and body stiffening when he sees Shadow.

Shadow swallows, shifting his weight from one foot to the other and trying not to seem too intimidating nor too intimidated.

“Oh,” Tails says, his voice small and his ears drooping back just slightly. His body shifts as if to be a bit more behind Sonic, “hey, Shadow. L-long time no see!.. heh..”

He’s scared. Shadow hates that..

Hates he’s given the kit more than enough reason to be..

He’s actually quite good with kids, contrary to popular belief. He was made to comfort and tend to one after all..

His heart would’ve broken to bits had his sister ever looked at him like that..

He clears his throat, glancing around before trying to break the ice with a compliment, “Your.. workspace is impressive,” he looks back at the fox to show he’s earnest, “I haven’t seen many of these tools before.”

“Oh,” Tails’ ears perk up, though a bit hesitantly, “I uh-.. I made most of them myself.”

“You build these things??”

“Yeah! Um.. I can show you some if you want??”

“I’d like that,” Shadow nods.

Sonic listens with a growing smile, watching as Tails stands and slowly begins to show Shadow some of his creations lining the walls and tabletops. He seems pleased this is going well thus far. More than pleased. This is important to him, of course, that much is obvious. But this fox is special to Sonic. He’s protective of him, a guardian of him. He wouldn’t want Shadow to be an object of fear for him.. nor would he want to bring Shadow around if it caused Tails distress, the hybrid is sure.

There’s a soft look in Sonic’s eyes as Tails laughs at something Shadow says, though. It makes Shadow’s stomach do flips. He pretends not to notice.

“I’m actually working on a design for a plane,” Tails explains as he approaches his workbench again, showing Shadow the blueprints, “I kind of got addicted this one time I flew one while fighting Eggman. Wanna make one bigger and better.”

Shadow looks over the blueprints with intrigue, finding the knowledge of this child absolutely baffling as well as simply endearing. His thirst for knowledge is familiar to Shadow..

“The engine design is formidable,” the hybrid observes, “have you considered replacing the transonic truss-braced wings with elliptical ones??”

“I… haven’t..,” Tails hums thoughtfully, tapping his chin as he eyes his blueprints, “that would make it far more aerodynamically efficient—“

“—and produce less drag,” Shadow finishes with a nod, watching as the fox quickly picks up his pencil and makes adjustments to the blueprints

“That’s brilliant! Team Heroes definitely needs this to be fast—“

“Okay you two! Before you start nerding out, we have chili dogs-a-waitin’,” Sonic interrupts, gesturing dramatically to the stairs with a bow.

Shadow and Tails look to him, the fox chuckling sheepishly and putting his pencil back down as he rubs the back of his neck and approaches his older brother, “Sorry. Got carried away.”

“It’s cool, lil’ bro,” Sonic assures with a shrug, waiting for Shadow to walk up the stairs before following behind, “I know you’re a big dork.”

“At least I’m not a big dumb,” Tails retorts with a grin.

“Zing!” Sonic chuckles proudly. Shadow is fairly certain he could’ve thought of a comeback and simply chose to allow the fox the win. It’s cute.

“Alright, let’s go get Knucks because the dawgs are callin’ and I’m staaaarviiiiing~” Sonic sings the last word in a nonsensical way that Shadow has grown accustom to from the hedgehog, smirking slightly as he follows him towards the side door.

Once outside, Shadow notes a large, white shed to the side of the house with its lights on, putting together that that must be where the echidna stays.

As if reading his mind, Sonic narrates, “Knuckles’ room is in the shed. Him and Mom had a lot of fights when he first moved in because he was a bit destructive. After a while, though, we realized this was just because he wasn’t use to sharing his space. He was pretty much a loner before all us, and he likes his independence and to be his own boss. So Mom renovated the shed for him and surprised him with it. I think that’s the first time he hugged her. It was pretty cool,” Sonic reminisces, walking backwards towards the shed so he can keep his eye on Shadow as he speaks.

“She sounds like a very perceptive mother,” Shadow analyzes.

“Oh, she is,” Sonic nods with wide eyes, “It’s scary sometimes how she knows things. It’s like she can read minds or something.”

Shadow’s ears fold back slightly at that, glancing towards the house again and wondering if his mind is currently being invaded..

To his knowledge, humans don’t have this ability, though.

Sonic knocks on the shed door once before opening it right on up. They’re instantly met with loud rap music playing over a speaker, Shadow’s ears once again folding back at the unwelcomed noise.

Sonic seems to notice this, rushing in a dash to switch the music off. This immediately disturbs the echidna who is sitting on a weight bench with a large spear in hand, sharpening the tip with a rock of some sort.

“Hey! Who dares to interrupt my bops?!” the red echidna barks, purple eyes turning to lock on crimson ones.

Oh boy.

The fox was one thing. He feared Shadow, which is something Shadow felt he could change relatively simply with time and trust. But the echidna???

He challenged Shadow.

“Ah! The Utmost Living Being!”

“The Ultimate Lifeform..,” Shadow mumbles the correction with a small frown, trying not to seem annoyed by the guardian’s incompetence. He’s had a lot of practice with Sonic.

“Whatever. You have arrived!” Knuckles continues, standing to approach the two now. Shadow is wary of the spear still in his hand, not even flinching when Knuckles points it directly at him, nearly grazing his chin. The echidna’s voice is deathly serious, gaze firm and menacing like a predator, “What are your intentions with my brother?”

Sonic’s eyes widen with a loud and awkward, “OH-KAY! That’s enough of that, ha-ha!” He’s quickly between the two, shoving the spear away from Shadow’s face with a little glare to his brother. Knuckles ignores it, keeping his eyes locked daringly on Shadow over Sonic’s shoulder. Shadow just looks back unphased before looking back to the nervously laughing Sonic.

“Don’t be weird, Knuckles,” the hedgehog growls under his breath, the echidna scoffing at this as if offended.

“Weird?! I am not being weird! I am merely engaging in conversation with our guest.”

“A weird conversation. And an unnecessarily aggressive one!”

“All aggression is necessary,” Knuckles corrects, finally looking from Shadow to Sonic, “Besides, I am the eldest brother. It is my duty to protect the tribe from newcomers!”

“Dude. Mom and Dad already have it covered. Just— be cool,” Sonic groans, crossing his arms at his brother.

“The Lady of Pretzels and Lord of Donuts are easily persuaded. I am not,” Knuckles shrugs, looking back to Shadow, “You are welcome to our home! But I will be watching you..”

Shadow just nods at this, “Understandable.”

Sonic groans more at this, seeming annoyed with Knuckles’ typical dramatic antics before he just rubs a hand down his face and shrugs it off, “Whatever. Just— dinner’s ready.”

“Oo sustenance! Is there grapes???” Knuckles’ demeanor shifts from intimidating to giddy like a dime, his eyes wide with hope.

“Yes. She made fruit salad and included grapes. Just for you,” Sonic huffs, turning towards the door to which Shadow promptly follows.

“Superb. She is absolutely a wonderful mother,” Knuckles hums pleased as he follows behind the two, “I am very glad I picked her.”

“Right,” Sonic rolls his eyes, leading the trio across the yard, picking his battles and not arguing with Knuckles on that one.

Shadow can’t help but find the entire interaction amusing. Their dynamic is so different than Sonic and Tails’, but it’s still laced with affection. It’s also endearing.

Once back inside, the three find that the house is empty and assume the others are already out back waiting in the yard.

Joining them outside, Shadow is immediately met with the appetizing aroma of chili as well as assorted fruits and some sort of meat.

He doesn’t have to eat as much as normal people do, but he certainly doesn’t mind it if it’s a good enough meal.

Tails is sitting with Mrs. Wachowski at the table, fixing his plate with a hot dog and a simple topping of ketchup with a bowl of chili separate on the side. He’s already digging in, not realizing how hungry he was since he had been caught up in his work.

Mr. Wachowski is squatted by a cooler, filling his cup with ice along with three others that Shadow assumes is for the three who just came outside. Sonic dashes right up to the family, obviously quite eager for their dinner if his wagging tail is anything to go off of. Knuckles follows behind, grabbing himself a paper plate and beginning to stack it up quite messily with anything that seems to be appetizing to his eyes. Topped with a concerning amount of grapes, Shadow notes.

“This food palette looks very balanced and appetizing, Mrs. Wachowski,” Shadow comments, looking at the full picnic table. The vet smiles wide at this, “Thank you, Shadow. That’s very sweet.”

Sonic turns to Shadow, handing him a paper plate with a little smile, “Here ya go.” Shadow looks at the plate a moment and then Sonic, “Thank you.” “Yup! Fix yourself some sides. We got beans, salad, chips– but your dawg?? It’s mine.” Shadow blinks. “I don’t have a dog.”

He notices the way the mother bites her lips together with an amused smile behind Sonic’s shoulder, exchanging knowing glances with the fox who giggles quietly.

“I meant your chili dog,” Sonic clarifies with a head tilt, “I’m gonna fix your first ever chili dog for you.”

“Oh..,” Shadow mumbles, cheeks turning a bit rosy with embarrassment at his incessant habit to take things a bit too literally and not quickly catch onto slang.

“Yeah, so fill your plate and let the master do his thing,” Sonic winks before turning around to get started on building Shadow’s chili dog. And my isn’t it a concoction..

Upon closer examination once placed in front of him, he takes in the ingredients he can curiously, his nose overwhelmed with the complexity of spices he senses.

A hot dog. Chili. Shredded lettuce. Cheese. Ketchup. Mayo. Onion. Tomato. Peppers. And to Shadow’s slight surprise, brown sugar mixed with hot sauce sprinkled on top of it all.

Interesting.

Shadow’s mouth forms a sideways line as he looks at the intimidating beast of a feast placed before him, looking at Sonic whose chili dog looks identical and is already being devoured by the blue menace.

Taking a breath, Shadow looks back to his chili dog. He can feel the others watching him. The Wachowskis, Tails, Knuckles.. Sonic even pauses to look at him expectantly, waiting to see his reaction to the ultimate food.

Shadow slowly picks up the chili dog, having to be extra careful not to make a mess of his gloves from all the sloppy contents of the item. He examines it only a moment longer before he opens his mouth and takes a big enough bite to get at least a little of everything.

And as he expected, he’s overwhelmed. There’s too much going on in his mouth for him to properly process it. The flavors are strong, the textures varying with each chew. It makes his spine shiver a bit, slowly chewing it as he keeps his tongue in the back of his mouth like it’ll calm his senses a bit.

But courting etiquette for humans is to always compliment your host for their meal.

So swallowing his disgust and the bite, Shadow offers a small smile and lies, “It’s delicious.” Sonic snorts at this, immediately bursting into laughter as Knuckles snickers as well. Tails is giggling with the mother and Mr. Wachowski is smiling as if amused.

Shadow just blushes a bit more, shrinking slightly in fear he may have said something wrong. “Oh you poor thing,” Maddie tuts sympathetically, standing to grab another plate and begin fixing a new chili dog, “You don’t have to eat all that. The Sonic Special is very much coded for Sonic.” “Yeah, man,” Sonic snickers, lightly shaking Shadow by his shoulder and then moving his plate from in front of him, sneaking it onto the ground for the dog to devour, “It’s cool. Not everyone can handle so much in one bite.”

Shadow looks at him and then glances up to watch Mrs. Wachowski place a new plate before him. This one looking more like the fox’s. Simple. A hot dog, nothing on it.

“You can add any toppings you like, sweetie,” Maddie smiles, taking her seat again.

“Or you can just have it plain! I only like ketchup on mine,” Tails encourages with a little grin.

“Mine is a mighty volcano,” Knuckles brags, forking another large scarf of the conglomeration down.

“See? It’s alright to like different stuff,” Sonic winks, nudging Shadow’s side with his elbow before looking back to his own food to continue eating.

Shadow looks around at the others a moment, watching as they all get on with their meals now and not paying him as much mind. Mr. Wachowski’s gaze catches his, though, still watching him with an expression Shadow doesn’t know how to translate. But the officer offers a little smile and nod, to which Shadow returns. He then looks down, and after a moment of hesitation, he tries his simple hot dog.

The rest of dinner goes smoothly. Shadow finishes his plate with ease, quite enjoying the more traditional forms of the food rather than the exaggerated versions his counterparts ate. They all share conversations, the subject often shifting and leaving Shadow a bit lost now and then. But he does his best to keep up, even adding a small input here and there but nothing more.

It’s intriguing.. watching a family. He remembers his time on the ARK with Maria.. How they’d share meals in the cafeteria but often would sneak away to sit on the floor in front of the large window viewing earth to eat together instead. They didn’t have a large family, but they had each other. And that was plenty..

He sees that in these people. Their bond is strong. They’re comfortable with one another. Open and honest and accepting of their differences. It’s..refreshing.

The only time he’s directly addressed is by Mr. Wachowski. “So Shadow,” he starts, swallowing his bite before continuing, “What are you doing these days?”

Shadow pauses. He read about this. The parents of one’s partner will often feel out how successful or motivated one is to see if they’re worthy of taking care of their offspring.

“Shadow??? He’s doing his own thing, you know. Being cool and–”

“I believe I was talking to Shadow,” Tom cuts Sonic off, though his voice holds no spite and he’s smiling knowingly at Sonic.

Sonic just smiles a bit sheepishly with a quiet “right” before looking to Shadow, not speaking for him this time. Though, Sonic looks a bit nervous, now. Perhaps he fears his father won’t approve of Shadow’s answer.

“I have recently began working with GUN,” Shadow says, looking at Tom now who seems a bit taken aback by this answer if his raised brows are anything to go off of. Next to him, Shadow sees Sonic’s face shift to one of surprise as well.

“You didn’t tell me that..” “It was confidential up until recently,” he explains, looking from Sonic to Tom again, “Nothing is official, but we’re getting close to some sort of work agreement..” “Sounds serious,” Tom replies with an intrigued look, “Didn’t really expect you to want anything to do with GUN..” After my grandfather who was an agent shot your sister goes unsaid, but Shadow hears it nonetheless.

He replies, “I didn’t. Not for some time, at least.” “What changed your mind?”

“Sonic,” Shadow answers bluntly, feeling everyone’s eyes land on him at once, including the said blue hedgehog next to him.

“..He’s not from here. He’s different. Powerful. And in terms of this planet’s mentality, he’s a threat. That’s what I was seen as,” Shadow explains, eyes staying on Tom’s as to not be intimidated by the many others peering at him, “He was hunted by humanity at first, not seen as a hero but rather a mystery. And humans never take to things they don’t understand well.. But Sonic didn’t let this discourage him. He continued to fight for his freedom and for the freedom of this world from evil-doers like Ivo Robotnik. And with time, he earned their trust. Proved himself. They stopped seeing him as different and saw him as an ally and a hero.. I don’t want to be a hero, but an ally is a good place to start. And while GUN has been corrupted before, I’d say they have good intentions in the long run to protect this world even if often misguided. I plan to be there to help guide them. Make sure what happened on the ARK never happens again..”

He looks to Sonic now, quoting something the blue hero once told him, “I can’t expect change if I just stand still.. I gotta make a move.”

Sonic’s eyes stare back at Shadow, a slow and wide smile forming on his muzzle along with rose tinted cheeks. A look of pride glistening in his eyes.

“That..,” Tom speaks, gaining Shadow’s attention again, “.. is a pretty damn good answer.”

Tom smiles at him. Shadow smiles back.

Dinner ends, and Mrs. Wachowski stands to start gathering up plates to trash, “Okay, Knuckles and Tails. Dishes.”

“What about Sonic?” Knuckles asks, looking distraught that he has to do more work than his brother. Tails is unbothered and already working on gathering up the serving dishes and leftovers to carry inside.

“He has a guest over,” Tom answers with a pointed look at Knuckles, “So he has to host.”

“So having a guest means you don’t have to do these silly tasks??” Knuckles scoffs as if scandalized by this information, as though he’s been personally targeted.

“Yup. ‘Fraid so, buddy.”

Knuckles huffs at this, snatching a few dishes as he begins making his way back to the house with something along the lines of ‘I must make more friends’ being grumbled from him.

Sonic sticks his tongue out mockingly at the red echidna when he walks by, earning the blue hedgehog a hard punch to the gut.

“Sonic? Have you shown Shadow your room?” Maddie asks, earning a pointed glare from Mr. Wachowski. Sonic immediately grins and, “Oh! I haven’t! Wanna see??”

Shadow nods at him with a small smile, “Yes, please.”

“Sweet, it’s this way,” he nods his head for Shadow to follow him back inside.

“What the hell was that??” Tom hisses to Maddie once they’re gone, “They don’t need to be alone in his room together–”

“Oh stop,” Maddie rolls her eyes at him with a little grin, “They’ll be fine. Sonic gets antsy just making eye contact with Shadow for too long, and Shadow-... well, I don’t even think Shadow knows how to flirt, let alone make a move.”

Tom groans a little but lets it go, figuring she’s probably right..

Plus, he trusts his boy to make good decisions.

“Here it is!” Sonic announces, climbing up a ladder into the attic, Shadow following behind. It.. isn’t exactly what Shadow was expecting. He was honestly expecting an absolute trainwreck. Clothes everywhere, weird smells, the whole shebang. Instead, he finds a room that so painfully screams Sonic. It’s enchanting in a charismatic sort of way. There’s charming lights lined along the ceilings, multiple road signs that allude to Sonic’s speed. The bed itself resembles a racecar, Shadow finding this immature but endearing. The shelves are lined with trinkets and random objects that must hold enough meaning for Sonic to keep them despite seeming unimportant. A beanbag is sat in the corner with a stack of comic books next to it. Sonic has lended some to Shadow before, and he respects the hero’s infatuation with them. Definitely sees where he gets his heroic antics from.

Shadow looks around the room in wonder. It’s a stark contrast to his own current sleeping arrangements.. Up until a few weeks ago, Shadow had honestly sort of just skipped around from rooftops to caves to trees to sleep. GUN offered him a more permanent place in an apartment in Central City..

It’s very empty. And very unlived in. Sonic’s room?? It’s warm and comforting and feels like a home. A safe space.

Shadow can tell each and every object that’s in here is likely treasured dearly by the blue hedgehog.. Well. except the dirty sock peeking out from under the bed. But Shadow chooses not to acknowledge that for Sonic’s sake.

“Welcome to Casa de Sonic,” the blue hedgehog grins, spreading his arms in showmanship of his space, “Pretty cool, huh??” He seems chill, but Shadow can tell he’s holding onto Shadow’s every move and breath.

Shadow looks at him and then around the room, turning to do a slow 360 look of the place before looking back to Sonic and offering a small smile and approving nod, “Very cool.”

Sonic’s arms drop with a breath of relief, a little chuckle escaping him as he looks at Shadow a moment and then looks towards his bed. In a blur of blue and brief gust of wind, Sonic is plopping onto the bed and then sitting up to look at Shadow, “Mom and Dad set it up for me as a surprise one time. I’ve kinda made it my own since then, but they did a pretty great job of laying down a solid foundation for all my dudeitude.”

“Dudeitude??” Shadow questions, walking over to sit next to Sonic on the bed once Sonic pats the spot next to him. “Yeah, you know, like– dude attitude?” “Oh,” Shadow smiles a bit at this, looking down and discreetly brushing the dirty sock out of sight under the bed with his heel before Sonic can see and be embarrassed, “Yes. Dudeitude is a very accurate word for you, I’d say.”

Sonic snickers at that, smiling all wide as he looks at Shadow. Shadow shyly keeps his eyes away, looking around the room and examining the smaller details like the subtle footprints on the ceiling or the jar with one singular owl feather on the nightstand.

“...So..,” Sonic says after a pause, breathing a quiet sigh before speaking, “What do you think??” “Think?” Shadow questions, finally meeting Sonic’s intense gaze again. “Yeah. Of.. ya’know. My family?” “Oh,” Shadow blinks, a bit thrown off by the question before he offers a soft look and mumbles quietly, “They’re really lovely.”

“They are, aren’t they?” Sonic smirks. “Mm,” Shadow nods, his eyes drifting away from Sonic’s and down to his own lap as he fiddles with the zipper of his jacket, “...What do you think they think?” “Hm?”

“Of me..?”

There’s a long pause of silence, and Shadow isn’t sure if that’s good or bad. But when he brings himself to look back at Sonic, he sees he’s simply thinking his answer over rather than answering immediately.

“I think Mom likes you,” he starts, offering a reassuring smile, “But she’s the easy one to win over, honestly. Tails seems to like talking nerd with you, so that’s totally a good sign! Knuckles is an idiot,” Sonic rolls his eyes and Shadow smirks slightly, “but I think he sees you as strong and formidable which means you have his respect. That’s all you can really ask for of him, honestly. It’s a pretty high honor.”

“And what of your father..?”

Sonic looks at Shadow, tilting his head at him with a sympathetic sort of smile, “..He seems to like you enough to give you a chance. And I think what you said out there about being the change you wanna see in the world definitely won you some brownie points.”

Shadow deflates in relief, some of the tension leaving his rigid spines as he nods and looks down with a mumbled, “Good.. then I’m doing well.” “You’re doing great,” Sonic assures, his hand moving to rest on Shadow’s shoulder and giving it a small squeeze.

Shadow looks back at Sonic at this, not being able to convey it with words but hoping his eyes show how much he appreciates this. All of this. This opportunity and this bond..

This chance.

Shadow’s hand moves to rest on Sonic’s knee as his way of trying to show he acknowledges the reassurance, but Sonic’s face does this funny thing and his ears get all pink.

“Okay!” he’s suddenly standing, Shadow’s hand dropping back to his own lap, “Well, we should head back down! I wanna be there when they pick a movie, so Knuckles doesn’t make us watch Planet of the Apes for the billionth time!” His laugh seems a bit shaky, his face flushed.

“Are you okay??”

“Me?? I’m cool. Coolcoolcoolcoolcool–”

“Hey,” Shadow interrupts, standing to shove Sonic’s shoulder, “Bring the dudeitude back.”

Sonic pauses, blinking at Shadow before a little grin forms and be breathes, “Right. Dudeitude.”

Shadow nods with a small smile, not at all realizing the affect he has on this blue hedgehog, but not wanting him to be nervous around him either.

They got back down the ladder to find Tails and Knuckles have finished the dishes and Tom has finished putting away leftovers, leaving Maddie and Ozzie sitting on the couch flipping through Netflix for something to watch.

“Hey you two! You’re just in time to pick a movie,” Maddie greets, “Shadow, you have a preference?” Shadow offers a small shake of his head, “No ma’am, I don’t know many films..”

He was brought up on a space station in the 50s. Movies weren’t exactly on-demand.

“That’s alright. We’ll have to fix that!” she winks, making Shadow’s stomach flip at the idea of them potentially inviting him over for more movie nights in the future, “Sonic, you got a pick??”

“Let’s watch a heartfelt film about a man who loves his dog–,” Sonic begins his answer with zero hesitation, Tom walking into the room to shut that down real quick.

“We’re not watching John Wick,” he grunts as he plops onto the couch next to Maddie, throwing his arm on the back of the couch behind her, “Nothing that isn’t PG.” Sonic groans, rolling his eyes and crossing his arms, “You guys are no fun.” “Yeah, it’s in the dad job description,” Tom coos with a smirk.

Sonic concedes, shrugging and walking towards the loveseat against the wall diagonal to the couch, “We can sit here, Shads.”

“I thought your spot was in the bean bag??” Shadow’s brow furrows, sitting beside Sonic on the loveseat nonetheless.

Sonic’s body tenses a bit, blushing as he fumbles, “Uh, well–” “Yeah, Sonic,” Mr. Wachowski teases from the couch, “Why don’t you sit in your bean bag like usual??”

Sonic’s puffs his cheeks with a glare at his dad, Mrs. Wachowski swatting at the snickering man’s shoulder with a huffed, “Leave him alone.” “Yeah! Leave me alone!” Sonic agrees, throwing a pillow at his father’s face.

Tom grunts when it hits him, huffing as he tosses it back at Sonic with an offended face, “Since when was this abuse the father night??” “Since you decided to challenge the world’s best hero,” Sonic smirks proudly.

The banter continues, but Shadow is completely lost on any of what just happened anyway. He just finds the interaction between the family members amusing.

And Sonic does not in fact sit in his bean bag.

Tails and Knuckles join them in the living room, Tails carrying a bucket of popcorn and Knuckles having a bowl of grapes. Shadow doesn’t think he could eat another single thing even if he wanted– which is what he tells Sonic when he asks if Shadow would like any snacks.

They all come to an agreement on a movie called Wreck It Ralph. The plot being something along the lines of a videogame character that somehow has thoughts and feelings and doesn’t want to be the bad guy he was written to be.

It sounds silly in concept, but Shadow can’t take his eyes off the screen the whole time.

It’s not until he feels Sonic shivering a bit beside him that Shadow averts his attention to the blue hedgehog beside him. Shadow has been sitting up straight watching the film this entire time, but Sonic is curled in a small ball leaning against the arm of the chair next to him and watching with tiny shivers now and then. It is chilly in this room, Shadow supposes. But he never gets cold, so..

It doesn’t take but a moment for him to decide to take his jacket off and carefully drape it over Sonic’s curled up form.

“You don’t have to–”

“Hush. The movie is playing,” Shadow mumbles, ignoring how precious Sonic looks all huddled under his coat with only his nose, big eyes, and perked ears peeking above the collar. The way Sonic’s eyes squint in the corners let him know he’s smiling..

Shadow’s attention turns back to the movie, unbeknownst to him his warm gesture was noted by his counterpart’s parents and had Maddie smiling all soft with a silent ‘aw’ as she leans over on her husband who just smiles as well.

The movie’s ending has Shadow feeling certain ways.

Ralph is still the bad guy, but he’s.. happy with that. He knows his purpose, and he knows the candy princess speedster will still accept him despite his destructive tendencies.

It..perhaps hits him a little close to home, and when he Ralph is chanting the villain support group’s affirmation, he finds himself memorizing it to heart.

‘I’m bad, and that’s good. I will never be good, and that’s not bad. There’s no one I’d rather be than me.’

Shadow gasps when Ralph sacrifices himself for the others in the arcade, eyes wide and glossy on the screen and his heart pounding in his chest. He feels like he can’t swallow. Like his palms are sweating. He’s seeing stars fly past him. Seeing the ARK get further and further away as he falls. Seeing��

He feels a hand rest on his and squeeze tight, flinching at the touch and immediately looking over to find Sonic staring wide eyed at the screen too..

They’re both seeing the same thing..

Shadow squeezes Sonic’s hand in return, finally allowing a deep breath to exhale as he relaxes again and looks back to the screen.

They’re here. Not space. Not the ARK. Here..

And there’s nowhere Shadow would rather be than here.

The movie ends. Maddie moves to carefully and silently step next to the bean bag Tails is laying in, the poor fox having fallen asleep around when Ralph was building Vanellope’s race track. She carries the kit down to his room to tuck him in, Knuckles rising from his own bean bag and stretching his muscles before announcing that he too would be retiring for the night.

He wishes his family goodnight and offers Shadow a simple nod of his head and smirk before heading out to his shed.

Tom looks over to Sonic and Shadow. Sonic is now properly wearing Shadow’s jacket and sitting up again, Shadow next to him looking back to Tom as if awaiting what they’re expected to do next.

“Well, Sonic. I think it’s time to call it a night,” the father announces, Sonic’s ears folding back at this and a small pout forming on his muzzle.

“Aw, but we’re not even tired,” he ironically says just before yawning. Shadow chuckles a bit at this and Tom just smiles and raising a brow at Sonic. Sonic groans and stands up, “Alright..” Shadow stands as well, looking to see Maddie now coming back up from the basement.

“We’ll walk you out, Shadow,” Tom offers, Shadow nodding politely as they all move towards the door.

Once outside, Tom immediately takes notice in Shadow’s bike sitting at the end of the driveway. “Did you ride that here???”

There it is.

He seems impressed as he looks the bike over the best he can from the doorway, Shadow looking to his bike as well now.

“I did,” the hybrid nods.

“What kind?” “Ducati Panigale V4 SP.”

“The Dark Rider??” “Yes sir.”

“Nice. Helmets?” “Two.” “Very nice,” Tom smirks, nodding approvingly as he looks back to Shadow.

Shadow just smiles small and proud, pleased his plot to impress the Donut Lord with his motorbike came to fruition.

“That mean I can go for a ride on it??” Sonic chimes in.

“No,” Maddie answers instead, the blue hedgehog knitting his brows and looking at Tom in preparation to protest only for Tom to wink at him and subtly nod.

Sonic grins. Shadow hums out a chuckle.

“It was really nice meeting you properly, Shadow,” Maddie says warmly, reaching out her hand to shake Shadow’s. Shadow obliges and shakes hers politely with a nod, “Likewise, Mrs. Wachowski.” “Glad we could see this version of you,” Tom adds, reaching to shake Shadow’s hand now, “Ya’know. The version that isn’t set on destroying the world.”

Shadow is about to get nervous at this, but he sees the playful smirk on Tom’s face. Glad to know where Sonic gets his sarcastic attitude.

“I appreciate the opportunity, sir,” Shadow chuckles breathily, shaking the Donut Lord’s hand.

“I’m sure we’ll be seeing you around more often,” Tom adds with a knowing smile, “So long as you take care of my son, that is.”

Sonic groans audibly, flushing as he rubs a hand down his face.

Shadow just nods seriously at this, seeming to take this task to heart.

They both speak at the same time.

“We’re not like that!” “I will.”

They blink. Each processing the other’s words as wide eyes meet in surprise. Both blushing. Both seeming to try and register what the other just said.

Maddie and Tom stare with wide eyes too.

“Ooo..,” Tom hisses, “Awkward..” Maddie is quickly grabbing her husband to pull him inside, chuckling awkwardly as she goes, “Well, be safe going home, Shadow.” “Yeah, take care!’

The door shuts.

Sonic and Shadow stand alone on the doorstep, still staring at each other.

Sonic, never being one to stay quiet long, is the one to speak first.

“You will..?” he breathes a little smile at that, looking shy now as he rubs the back of his neck with a blushing muzzle, “What did you mean by you will?”

“I meant I’d take care of you,” Shadow states as though it’s obvious, though he’s starting to fear he has in fact had a very deep and embarrassing misunderstanding of their circumstances. His ears stand extra tall, tensing them up so they don’t droop back in disappointment.

“We.. aren’t like that..? I don’t understand.” “I-... you thought we were like that??” “I thought that’s what all this was,” Shadow says quietly, becoming more and more embarrassed as he reruns all this in his head, “You chasing me. Insisting on being in my life. Always planning to meet again. All the circling and snorting and puffing–”

Sonic deadpans, “the what?” “Hedgehog courting rituals!” Shadow huffs, now getting irritated the more he grows humiliated, “All my research talked about it! It’s clearly stated that everything you were doing to pursue me was as a mate.” Sonic’s eyes widen further at this, ears drooping back and now his entire chest and ears are pink too.

“Mate??..,” his voice is small as realization begins to build.

“And then you invited me over to meet your parents for their approval, yes??” Shadow asks, tilting his head with a knit of his brow as he tries to understand where he misread the signs, “That was the objective??” “Woah, hey. Shadow. The objective was to have their approval on me getting to hang out with you, not–”

He stops, seeing how Shadow’s ears twitch back a bit. How his stance is now a bit more drooped than tall and confident. How his eyes hold confusion and shame..

It breaks Sonic’s heart.

Sonic purses his lips, sighing as he looks away shyly and, “...I guess I kinda did do all that, huh??”

Shadow doesn’t answer, just slowly moves to cross his arms in a defensive sort of manner. His crimson eyes averted towards the ground.

Sonic chews on his lower lip and looks back to Shadow, “I’m a hedgehog. Not an earth hedgehog, though, ya’know?? I don’t even know how my kind of hedgehog would try to initiate a–... what’d you call it??” “Courtship,” Shadow mutters.

“Right. That,” Sonic sighs, frowning at how this night took a sudden turn for the awkward and heavy.

It had been going so well.

“...I’m sorry, Shads–” “Don’t-,” Shadow interrupts, eyes closing as he takes a deep breath to gather himself, finishing with a sighed, “--apologize. I shouldn’t have made so many assumptions. That’s not your fault.” “Well, I feel like it kinda is,” Sonic insists, brows knit at the ebony hedgehog in front of him.

This can’t ruin this. He can’t lose him.

“Look..,” Sonic says after a breath, rubbing a hand back through his own quills before pausing to notice Shadow’s eyes were still shut, “Hey… look at me, Shads.”

Sonic’s hand reaches up to delicately cup Shadow’s cheek, tilting his head up to face him as crimson eyes open to meet emerald.

Sonic offers a soft smile, “I know I’m all about going fast, but...we don’t need to rush this.”

Shadow blinks, staying quiet as he listens to the blue hero speak.

“I.. don’t know what we are,” Sonic admits quietly, “I thought we were just buddies, but.. I’d be kidding myself if I said I didn’t know you were different for me.” Shadow chews on the inside of his cheek, still not saying anything in fear of saying the wrong thing and humiliating himself further.

“..I think.. We can take this slow, huh??” Sonic offers, a small smile as he knits his brows up and tilts his head at his rival, “Learn each other better. Learn ourselves better. Maybe go on some actual dates..?” Sonic chuckles a bit and Shadow can’t help but lean his cheek into Sonic’s palm slightly.

Sonic rubs his thumb along Shadow’s muzzle.

“We’ll figure this out,” he assures simply as if it’s just a fact of life, “Because I’m not goin’ anywhere. And even if you tried to, I’d find you, Faker.”

Shadow can’t help but smile at that, chuckling at the reference to one of their not-so-friendly first encounters. He looks down between them a moment before lifting his eyes back to Sonic.

“We’ll figure this out,” Shadow agrees with a nod.

“We’ve got plenty of time.” “Plenty.”

Sonic smiles at this, breathing a small sigh of relief through his nose that they’re gonna be okay. This misunderstanding won’t ruin or change anything.

“We just gotta learn how to communicate better, dude,” Sonic chuckles, Shadow humming amusedly as well.

“Agreed.”

Sonic smirks at this. And maybe he looks at Shadow’s eyes a little too long or lets his hand linger on his cheek a bit longer than needed, but sue him.

He just found out Shadow the Hedgehog wants to court him.

Screw that. He just found out what the heck courting even was.

Sonic needs to get educated, he decides.

Shadow ever so subtly rubs his cheek against Sonic’s palm in a nuzzling sort of manner before he takes a step back, Sonic’s hand falling back to his side. The two smile at one another a moment longer before Shadow just smirks with a “hmph” and turns to walk down the front steps.

Sonic watches with a content little smile, “...Wanna race tomorrow??” Shadow keeps walking, not turning around as he responds, “Arcade or waffle house??”

“Waffle house. I’ve been craving french toast.”

Shadow chuckles, waving a hand up at the hedgehog over his shoulder with a nod.

Sonic just grins at this, biting his lower lip before flinching at the sudden realization–

“Oh! Shadow!”

Shadow turns to face him again as Sonic quickly makes his way down the steps and across the yard to him, moving to take Shadow’s jacket off himself– though Shadow notices the slight look of loss as Sonic removes his arm from the first sleeve.

“You forgot this–” “Keep it,” Shadow interrupts, lifting his hand to halt Sonic.

“..Really??” Sonic’s tail wags behind him, a smile curling back onto his muzzle.

“Looks better on you,” Shadow insists, moving to help Sonic put his arm back in and settle it properly on his shoulders once more.

Sonic just beams at this, “Agree to disagree, pal,” his gaze softens as Shadow looks him over, “But thanks..”

Shadow just smirks at this, shrugging and turning to his bike, “Don’t mention it.”

Sonic shoves his hands in the jacket’s pockets, crossing his arms so that it’s snug around him.

It smells like lavender.. Like a hug from Shadow.

Shadow straddles his bike, looking back to find Sonic standing there with his eyes shut and his nose buried in the jacket’s collar. He smirks smugly.

“It’s called anointing, by the way.” “Huh??” Sonic jumps slightly, jolting from his daze.

“Covering yourself in your mate’s scent,” Shadow explains, placing the helmet he doesn’t actually use in the bag attached to his bike before finishing, “It’s called anointing.”

Sonic blinks, eyes widening as a blush grows on his cheeks with a sheepish, “oh..”

Shadow just cranks his bike up, revving it to life before looking back to Sonic with a wink, “See you tomorrow, Hedgehog.”

Sonic’s left feeling dumbstruck as Shadow drives off from their home and down the street before eventually disappearing with a roar of the engine.

Sonic may not know it yet, but Shadow knows..

They’re absolutely courting.

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vllergy · 14 days ago

Text

strawberry scones

s/tar/d/ew v/alley, 2.6 k, s/am allergy fic my farmer has the fetish because i said so, sam/seb/farmer are some kind of polycule also because i said so sorry to call u out directly but just want to note the text messages and dynamics are directly inspired from @bestwhumpist's fics because i'm obsessed with the way you write the 'one partner with the kink and everyone else around them' dynamic and you inspire me xoxoxoxoxoxoxo ty

goblin destroyer + milo abigail: r we still practicing today?? seb: we were supposed to…. abigail: ??? seb: sam might still be dying sam: IM GOOD! IM FINE! i took my allergy meds sam: we’re still on >:| seb: uh huh sam: im serious! im much better sam: 4pm at my place be there or be lame sam: milo, you in? c:

The glare from the sun made the surface of his phone near impossible to read at first. Angling his hat forward, Milo let the brim cast a shadow over the screen until the group chat became legible. And when it did, his throat immediately went dry. Nervous heat fluttered in his chest despite the still crisp early spring air and his thumbs became clumsy as they hurried to type back a response.

milo: you know it!!! i’ll bring snacks

He was about to pocket his phone and resume tending to the bed of soil in front of him when another message came through. A private one, outside the group chat. Milo swiped back to read it and his heart dropped into his stomach.

sebastian: ur so fucked lol

Upon first arriving, it seemed as though Sam’s insistence on his own well-being was actually genuine. He greeted Milo at the door with clear eyes and a beaming, slightly crooked smile. Feeling like a delinquent for doing so, Milo gave a cursory glance at his nose and found it not even the slightest bit red or raw looking. He tried to temper his disappointment in favor of relief. This was good, actually. If Sam’s allergy meds really were doing their job, this was going to be a lot easier for him to sit through.

Sam threw a lean, muscled arm around Milo’s shoulders and guided him inside. He smelled like fresh laundry and sunshine and was already talking a mile a minute.

“I think you’re really gonna like the new stuff, Sebastian’s been working on some lyrics that really brought the whole ting together--” he glanced at the tote Milo had clutched under his arm, “Oh shit, you really did bring snacks! I could kiss you, dude.”

They entered Sam’s room—always surprisingly clean for a man so full of boundless energy—and Abigail snorted.

“Ugh, save it for when I leave,” she muttered, “The three of you can make out on your own time.”

Milo blushed dark red, the freckles on his cheeks nearly dissolving into the pools of color as the heat crawled up his face. Just as his step faltered, Sebastian appeared at his side and snaked an arm around his waist. He pulled Milo free of Sam’s golden aura and cocooned him in his own: velvety and dark and every bit as distracting.

“It was a figure of speech, jeez,” Sam’s cheeks went a little pink too, much to Milo’s delight. The blonde palmed the back of his neck sheepishly while he kicked off his shoes.

Out of the corner of his eye, Milo caught Sebastian smirking. He never quite knew where the lines between them all existed. He and Sebastian were dating, he was pretty sure of that. But Sam and Sebastian had a thing all of their own too. And for their part, Milo and Sam always seemed to get tongue-tied around one another, a phenomenon Sebastian relentlessly encouraged.

The only one who could clock all of them from a mile away seemed to be Abigail, who rolled her eyes and snatched the tote away from Milo before retreating back to the couch with it. Cracking open the lid made the room fill with the sweet scent of fresh baked scones. Abigail’s eyes went wide.

“Milo, you outdid yourself,” she gasped.

Milo, who’d just stopped blushing started right up again, and raked a hand through his dark curls.

“It’s a new recipe.”

“Oh hell yes! Gimme one!”

Sam darted past and snatched one out of the bin, jamming nearly half of a scone into his mouth with glee. Both Sebastian and Abigail rolled their eyes, but Milo merely watched with unmasked affection. Sam never did anything elegantly. It was all wide-toothed grins, exaggerated movements and unapologetic mirth.

By contrast, Sebastian was more delicate about the whole ordeal. Taking a scone for himself, he held it between his long, pale fingers and inspected the glaze. His dark eyes flickered to Milo.

“Strawberry?” he asked.

Milo nodded, “Picked this morning.”

Sam had already demolished his first and was onto his second as he stooped down to his guitar case. Scone in mouth, he snapped the latches with his hands and shook hair out of his face like a dog. Milo’s chest squeezed. So cute.

En route to the keyboard, Sebastian stopped and placed a soft kiss on Milo’s cheek. “Thanks, farmer.�� His hand strayed to his hip as he passed and pinched at the bone playfully. Milo almost yelped but managed to keep his reaction from emerging.

He whirled an accusing gaze on Sebastian who merely gave a pointed look over at Sam who now held a half-eaten scone in one hand and was furiously rubbing at his nose with his other.

—

Abigail used to joke that Milo was a captive audience for these practice sessions. But the truth was, there was nowhere in the world Milo would rather be. As music filled the room, Milo sank back into the old couch Sam had dragged in and pushed against the wall.

He couldn’t hold a tune to save his life and he’d never learned to play an instrument, so the best he could offer was a pair of listening ears for Goblin Destroyer’s new material. He tended to think everything they did sounded great, but he at least pretend to offer varying opinions. He mostly just liked being a part of it all. Plus, watching both Sebastian and Sam in their element had a kind of hypnotizing power over him.

Unfortunately, not hypnotizing enough to distract Milo from the losing battle happening before his eyes.

Sam turned his head against his shoulder and rubbed his nose against his shirt. With both hands occupied by his guitar, it seemed to be his only option, and one made effortlessly casual at that. It was over and done with in a second, having not missed a beat for his efforts, and it seemed Milo was the only one who’d noticed. It could have been a fluke.

But of course it wasn’t.

A few moments later, Sam sniffed hard. The sound was lost behind the music but Milo could see it happen clear as day. The bridge of his nose crinkled a few times and then the tip wriggled as he tried to assuage an itch without actually scratching it. Milo squirmed on the couch, wondering what it might be like to help him. To reach up and rub his nose for him while he played, or run his fingers along the bridge of his nose to try and coax out—

Sam sneezed without warning. A tightly controlled thing, just one bob of his head and a brief shuttering of his expression. It was impossible to say if he’d made any sound or not given the volume of the music, but Milo doubted it. For as inelegant as Sam could be, he’d been suffering from his allergies for long enough that he’d gotten good at suppressing them. Normally he didn’t bother, at least not around them, but Milo supposed these were different circumstances. There was a certain veneer of professionalism here.

Sam sniffed hard enough to wrinkle his nose again and continued playing, unbothered. But Milo knew where this was going. And he was certainly bothered.

Sam’s fingers never missed their mark on the neck of the guitar as his eyes fluttered and his head snapped forward once, twice, and then a third time with completely suppressed sneezes. His mouth was shut in a tight line, his expression pinched. He shook his head after the third as if to clear the sensation and arched his shoulder to wipe under his nose as he played.

Milo felt the room turning to molasses around him. Heat crawled up his throat. Worse still, Sebastian had caught that last outburst. A tiny smirk played on the keyboardist’s pale features as he continued to play, his eyes flashing almost wickedly as he met Milo’s gaze.

His expression seemed to say Told you.

There were a few moments of peace. Milo tried to will himself not to look at Sam again but his eyes were pulled there like a magnet. He could tell the fit was getting away from him. Sam’s eyes closed and this time his hands paused their rhythm on the guitar as the tickle distracted him. He tilted his head toward the light, a lock of blonde hair falling limp across his forehead, and then whipped to the side after a brief pause.

“—tiiew!”

Milo only caught the tail end of the sound over the music, and the resounding-undoubtedly wet-sniffle was swallowed up by Sam falling seamlessly back on beat. He blinked a little groggily as he continued playing. Then, he must have noticed Milo staring, because he grinned sheepishly and shrugged his shoulders at him.

That slight acknowledgement of it all went right to Milo’s dick. He somehow plastered on what he thought was a convincing smile in return and then had to cross his legs. His heart began jackhammering in his chest. Fuck, was he really about to have to sit here while this happened? Maybe he really was a captive audience.

Sam struggled in vain to keep playing but his nose had other ideas. Surrendering to the tickle, his hands went slack against the instrument again and his upper lip curled over his canine. Milo couldn’t hear the uptick of his breath but he could imagine it well enough, watching the plane of Sam’s chest swelling against his t-shirt. Hh—hh? Hh?

Sebastian stopped playing. And the pause between Abigail’s drumming was just long enough for the first, clear sneeze to strike through the room crystal clear.

“h’h’JIISHZSHh’huu!” Sam gripped the neck of his guitar and angled away from it. Milo couldn’t tell if he was worried about sneezing near it or just using it as a point of stability. He gasped and let his head snap forward with a second, wet, “hh’tiiISChiew!”

Abigail stopped playing too. Silence descended, to which Sam quickly shook his head. He turned to the others even while his head bobbed between sneezes, eyes struggling to open during the quick cadence.

“N-no, don’t—nNNCH!—stop, I’m—hNGT!—fiii-nnGXT!—hGNT!—I can keep—tschh! TSCH! Going!”

Sebastian raised an eyebrow, “Yeah, you sound like it.”

“You know when you hold them in like that it only just makes it worse,” Abigail scolded him.

Milo felt like the walls were closing in on him. He quickly angled himself towards the arm of a couch and placed one of the pillows on his lap as strategically as he could.

Sam lifted the collar of his shirt over his nose and mouth as he geared up for another. “h’Hsshhh-ue!!” "Bless you," Milo said, his mouth dry.

“I thought you took your allergy meds,” Sebastian sighed.

Sam remained under the cover of his shirt, eyes cinched shut. He gasped wildly and ducked down, “HHh’uPSCHh’ue!” A watery, pathetic sniff followed and Milo could think of nothing else besides the wet mist most likely spraying his own chest.

As Sam emerged, his nose was pink, nostrils an angry shade and twitching. “I did,” he groaned, “God, I fucking hate sp-sprhiing.”

Lifting up his shirt again, he pinched the fabric around his nose and shuddered into another, “hh’eSCHh!”

Milo couldn’t help but notice the slight spot of dampness now forming on the shirt. "Bless you," he said again, trying to keep his voice steady. His eyes were apt to roll back into his head if he wasn’t careful. "Thagks," Sam sniffed hard.

“Maybe sit this one out,” Sebastian suggested as Sam pawed at his nose, “Abby and I are the ones who have to learn the run anyway.”

To anyone else, it might have sounded like something a concerned friend might say. But Milo could hear the edge of playfulness to it. The slight lilt of teasing that was meant for him, and only him as Sam nodded glumly, shrugged out of the strap of his guitar and made his way over to the couch.

Milo stiffened, eyes going wide. Sam flopped back, completely oblivious, one arm going behind him around the back of the couch. He dropped his head back, gave a liquid sniffle and groaned. Milo could feel the heat of his arm near his shoulders and chewed on the inside of his cheek so hard he could taste blood.

“Just don’t sneeze all over Milo,” Sebastian warned.

Milo gave him a desperate look. It must have been really desperate, because Sebastian even laughed and managed to appear a little apologetic.

“Or the scones,” Abigail added.

Sam gave them both the finger even while turning his face to the side and half-stifling into the open air. The frame of the couch shook softly and his knee brushed against Milo’s as he released it. “hH’NGXtssh!” He groaned and shifted back. Sam hardly ever looked grumpy, but he was absolutely pouting now. He seemed to be on the verge of saying something else but his arm quickly retracted from behind Milo so he could lean forward. He ducked beneath the safe haven of his shirt again, head dropped and hair falling over his brow as he buried his nose into the fabric. "hh'tscHH!! hhi'zESHhhiyew!"

Milo instinctively reached for him, his hand smoothing over his spine. Sam startled at the sudden contact and bit down the next series of sneezes seemingly on instinct, folding into himself further with each quick set.

"hH'nNNT! nnGSST! nnGXCH!"

"Sorry!" Milo said hurriedly, retracting his arm.

Sam tried in vain to shake his head through and speak through the last of the tickle, "No, my ba-haa'aSScHIEW--bad! Sorry, hh'tssch!--fuck! There."

He'd thoroughly soaked the front of his t-shirt now. Sniffling wetly behind the cover of it, he lifted his gaze with no small amount of bashfulness. A hoarse, weak laugh escaped him. "Bless you doesn't seem to cover it," Milo said, breathless for entirely different reasons.

"Sorry, sorry," Sam continued to apologize, sluicing the moisture from his nose with his shirt.

"Do you not own tissues?" Abigail balked. "My house, I can sneeze where I want," Sam sniffed again before standing up and unceremoniously stripping out of his sodden shirt. Milo blinked, stunned, and could do nothing but stare at the lean muscle on full display as Sam walked towards his dresser. Sebastian cleared his throat and when Milo caught his eye, he was practically grinning. He couldn't remember the last time he'd seen him look so happy. Milo sank further into the couch and forced his eyes to the floor. "Okay, I think the worst's over," Sam declared as he grabbed a fresh shirt. Though Milo caught his profile just as the telltale hitch of his breath followed the statement. "Hh? Hh!"

His long, blonde lashes fluttered as turned to the side, eyebrows lifting in expectation. Milo watched his bare shoulders swell softly as he inhaled, muscles along his ribs flexing. Sam sniffed and seemed to ignite the tickle fully, directing one last tired sneeze towards his elbow. "hH'tishew!"

The exhausted nature of it did something irrevocable to Milo. His mind went completely blank as Sam sniffled through tossing his new shirt over his head and eventually returned to his guitar.

Music started up again but Milo barely heard it. He was lost completely, shoving strawberry scones in his mouth one after another to have something to focus on other than Sam's delightfully pink nose.

#im replaying it and um.... i love him ok #it's not just because he has canon allergies but that DOES help #my sweet himbo with his dumb skateboard #s/tardew v/alley #this is not my best writing but im also sad so no one should judge me #seb sneeze would be cute too tho......possibilities are endless #i am simple and dumb #anyway seb thinks its adorable and fully intended for this to happen #snz fic #snz kink #snzblr #snzfic

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