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cripplecharacters · 30 days ago

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what are the top 5 things you'd like to see a disabled character do in a story?

Hey! This is a very vast question and a lot of it would depend on the character's actual disability - I have completely different wishlists for what I'd like to see intellectually disabled characters do versus what I'd like to see characters with facial differences do. Different stereotypes and tropes affect different groups of disabled people differently - to work with this fact, the below list will try to account for as large amount of disabled character as I can reasonably think of, but it won't have as much detail as you might want. If you have a specific kind of character in mind, feel free to send another ask.

Not in specific order:

Disabled characters being in love. Disabled x disabled, disabled x abled, disabled x very different kind of disabled, all these variants but including more than 2 characters (since I've yet to see a polyamorous disabled character), all of this.

And I mean in actual relationships, not the pitiful and devoid of actual chemistry thing that we usually get (think "really sad disabled man only becomes happy after an abled woman takes pity on him, but they never kiss or god forbid have sex because that's gross and the disableds surely don't do that anyway").

I want to see an interabled couple going through IVF because they want to have kids, a wife with hemiplegia getting to grow old and wrinkly with her autistic husband, a lesbian with Treacher Collins syndrome moving in with her chronically ill girlfriend after a month of knowing each other, DeafBlind men getting hands on each other in the bathroom of a shitty nightclub, a trans woman with autism asking out a trans man with Down syndrome via her AAC tablet, a neurotypical guy with an obvious crush on his classmate with cerebral palsy.

I want to actually see disabled people being shown as desirable partners, good parents and grandparents, potential crushes, going through some new feelings and going on both good and bad dates, from all walks of life, of all sexualities and genders. Just like abled people.

Disabled characters participating in their community. Especially severely and/or visibly disabled characters. This is obviously a concept as vague as it could possibly be, but a big problem with a lot of disabled characters is that they don't... do anything. Not in the sense that they aren't "active enough", but that they aren't really... characters. They're often reduced to a family member who's at home and maybe the abled character takes care of them sometimes, but that's seemingly all that happens; they have no interests, hobbies, agency, preferences, or an internal thought process. All they do is wait for an abled savior to do something to them, not even with them.

I want to see more disabled characters who have jobs (whether it's a "regular" job, a supported employment workplace, a creative job that maybe they can only do a few hours a week, or self-care as a full-time job kind of thing), participating in hobbies that are accessible and/or modified to their ability level, emailing or sending pigeon letters to their friends, trying out new stuff that they're interested in, having actual complex relationships with their caregivers. Anything to actually make them feel like characters that exist in their setting, not just cardboard cutouts that the author had no ideas for.

Disabled characters who are a part of real-world disability (and adjacent) culture. Obviously also a vast topic. Most disabled characters, regardless of setting, are completely separated from concepts that were made by disabled people for disabled people; usually the connection to disability is their actual medical condition and a sterile mobility aid. This is not incorrect or bad to represent since that describes a lot of people, but I'd like to simply see more variety.

I want to see disabled characters who do parasports, who are excited about tactile art, went to blind/Deaf/SPED schools, call themselves #a babe with a mobility aid, decorate their AAC device, learn about disabled history, experience Feelings when hearing that Neanderthals cared about their disabled children, go to disability-centric events or support groups to meet people similar to them.

Do all disabled people do these? Absolutely not, but I'd like for even 1% of fictional characters to represent those who do.

Yeah I just want more disabled characters doing sports. As in real-life sports that real-life disabled people do, apologies to all the fantasy swordfighting that's out there.

There are so many sports out there we can do, some are adapted, some have a sitting or wheelchair version, while others were made specifically for us. Team sports are such a good opportunity to have your character have a community of people like them, have interesting dynamics, yet the only anything I can think of that's about it is REAL by Takehiko Inoue (wheelchair basketball) and the art by @/gayaest / @/sproutwiki (sitting volleyball). Also some Paralympics documentaries that I can count on a single hand - there's like three of them.

I want to see characters who are starting out and really suck at their sport, ones who are decent, ones with ridiculous sports-anime-level over the top abilities. I want to see all kinds of sports done by all kinds of disabled characters; blind kids learning goalball with their blind parents, quadriplegic guys working their ass off to qualify for national murderball championships, folks using sticker-covered bright-pink ramps in their boccia games, people with POTS playing along with their abled partner on their wheelchair rugby league team, standing fencers becoming disabled and adapting to wheelchair fencing that they love just as much. More disabled people having fun, knowing other disabled people, having interests!

Also, parasports are just cool as fuck and interesting to both watch and read about.

Disabled characters getting to make bad decisions. Disability representation is often extremely black-and-white in terms of morality: the character is either an angel who always does the right thing and talks about being grateful a lot, or the character is comically evil, wanting revenge because of their disability, hating their disability, constantly in grief and anger since not a single mildly ok thing happened to them since they became disabled. Neither of these feel like real people.

Disabled characters should be able to say hurtful things, get mad, lie, and whatever else, without being demonized to hell for it the same way abled characters are. They should be allowed to consciously make a decision that they shouldn't take (also known as "dignity of risk" in context of disability). They should get the same consequences for mistakes as everyone else and need to have the opportunities to actually make them.

In a much shorter way: more complex disabled characters.

These are things that I'd enjoy seeing for disabled characters. But the main thing would probably be that I want more of them. The scope of disabled characters in media is so painfully narrow because there's so few of them + they're usually capped at one per series. More writing featuring multiple disabled people please.

Here is a list of wishes from other mods who wanted me to throw them here:

Disabled characters who act like the author did more than a 10 min google search about their disabilities. [So authors doing actual research.]

More disabled characters of color. A lot of time disabled characters are white because it's only acceptable for them to be one kind of marginalized. In real life that's not how it works. People of color are disabled too!

Characters with comorbidities, characters with physical and mental health and developmental symptoms. Disability doesn't just come with one cut and dry disorder all the time - you can even be diagnosed with some things and undiagnosed with others.

[A character can have 5 comorbidities, or 5 completely unrelated disabilities - both happen. Or, most frequently, a bit of both.]

Characters existing in all parts of their diagnostic journey. [So characters who are yet to be diagnosed, currently investigating their symptoms, ones recently diagnosed, and ones who had their diagnosis for their whole lives - and as mentioned previously, you can be on one stage with disability A, and on another with disability B.]

Characters whose whole life isn't just tragedy/struggle! See this a lot when a story with disabled character is just about how life is hard for them as disabled person. Would love disabled characters being leads in other genres and just existing as people. Not to say disability isn't a struggle, but there is more to life and person than disability.

mod Sasza

#mod sasza #anonymous #writing ideas #character inspo #writing advice #writing disabled characters

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daddysfangirls-marvel · 2 years ago

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Polyamorous: Epilogue

Pairing: Steve Rogers x reader x Bucky Barnes

Warning: Pure fluff and Happiness

Epilogue

Steve kept his eyes closed as his husband trailed kisses along his jaw, his tongue down his neck, hickies down his chest. How he loved his husband and his touches. He hummed as he wrapped his lips around his nipples and hissed when he bit down.

"I knew you were awake," Bucky said as he kissed his nipple as an apology.

"I was just enjoying your kisses, your touches."

"Really," Bucky said as he continued to trail kisses down his chest moving further down, he settled himself between his legs he tugged out his waistband. " well, you're about to enjoy a whole lot-"

Both men were startled by a series of knocks on the door. Both men sighed Steve sat up against the headboard and placed a pillow in his lap because it rolled off of Steve and onto his elbow. He smiled, looking up at Steve, who was upset and covering up his tall friend.

"Daddy? Dad? Are you awake?" asked a little voice behind the door.

"Wide awake, sweetheart"

" I can't reach, I can't open the door. Help!"

They chuckled Bucky moved to get up, but the door was already opened. " Thank you," the little voice said as he came in carrying a glass of juice in each arm.

"Happy Father's Day," the little fella yelled at the top of his little Lunges. Ash followed him, carrying a tray of food.

"Happy Father's Day, Ian made you guys Breakfast"

"you did this for us, Buddy" Bucky picked him up, helping him to bed with them. Kissing his little blonde head as he came.

"Mommy helped with the Bacon and Ash with Pancakes," the young boy spoke matter-factly.

"Thank you, Ian"

Ian, Ian Roger -Barnes.

Shortly after moving into their home, the trouple approached Tsunade about trying to conceive again. Going through all the checks and tests, it was determined that the (Y/n) body was working but not ready. She was given medication to help even then, but she was told it would be a long time before they got any real results. It was stated she had many failures before her miracle.

Tsunade, the lovely woman she is, stepped up and helped get a child in other ways. Introducing them to several adoption agencies and helping them through the process. If anyone asked, she would be credited with bringing them to their adopted son Ian.

Ian's mother was a teenager who died giving birth to him. The young girl had no family, and the father was unknown, so Ian was quickly put into the system. Due to his many medical issues due to having a young teenage mother and being premature, very few were willing to take him in.

That was until the Roger- Barnes family came, and they were very willing. They welcomed him at Eight months. Here he was now at five years old. Healthy, Happy, and loved with a mother, a father, another father, an older sister, and another sister on the way.

"Why do we have so many stairs?" (Y/n) asks as she comes in carrying another food tray. Ash quickly jumped up, taking it from her and placing it with the other one on the bed.

"Happy Father's Day," She said as she rubbed her swollen belly.

Yes, after years of trying and many more trying, a miracle lay in her belly. A blessing. Of course, those losses would not be forgotten they'd always be remembered in their hearts, and they could be seen in the corner of her garden, each life planted as a different flower of life. Gently taken care of kindly as her children walked next to her.

Hopefully, Rebecca would not join her flower siblings.

"Come sit, you shouldn't be up," Steve said as he got out of bed, motioning her to take his place. She didn't complain or fight, just doing as she was told and climbing into bed. Breakfast in bed with her husbands and children.

Bucky, Ian, (Y/n), and Steve sit against the headboard, and Ash sits across from them. All eating for the trays of food. Bacon, pancakes, eggs, french toast, fruit( Strawberries, blueberries, bananas), Orange juice, milk, and Coffee. All are Decorated with beautiful Father's Day cards from each child and a dutiful wife.

"alright, as wonderful as this breakfast is, I have to go," Ash said as she wiped her hands, taking her last sips of coffee. " I have to go to work. Can't leave Peter alone in the lab too long he'll end up like Tony," Ash teased as she exited, giving her family a wave as she departed.

"Don't be late for dinner, I'll text you the address" (Y/n) called after her daughter.

"So we're going to dinner tonight," Bucky said as he held his son's bacon over his head, ignoring the little grabby hands that begged for it.

"How else are we to celebrate your time within fatherhood"

"I mean, I know Steve has a couple of ideas. He shared them with me this morning. Sausage."

"That's bacon, my bacon," Ian quickly protested, reclaiming his meat "Mine"

"For dessert, wouldn't want to be interrupted again now, would we" (Y/n) said she was talking to Steve, although he was doing his best to ignore her and Bucky, just drinking his coffee. But his red-tipped ears clearly told them he heard every word and understood every meaning.

Standing on the threshold, Bucky watched Ian use his water can to water the fruits and veggies as he walked along the paths, like a little gardener tending to his lands. Steve was in the garden as well, weeding and pruning as he watched his son run about and listen to his tales.

Apparently, oranges were gifts from fairies, and the nicer one was the sweeter their oranges. Ian deemed they had the sweetest in the world.

(Y/n) sat on the porch with a book in her lap and a cup of tea on the table she was leaning over the railing, rubbing her stomach as they listened to her son tell his tales (while secretly, not so secretly, stuffing fruit into his overalls. Adorable).

Bucky came up behind (Y/n) and kissed the back of her head. " you missed a spot," he called Steve threw a bunch of weeds toward him. Ian quickly came to his dad's defense, also splashing water.

"what did I do?!" (Y/n) laughed as she got wet.

"Sorry, Mommy"

Bucky just laughed. Which resulted in him getting the hose from Steve. Thus a water fight began in the backyard. The respective teams are Bucky and (y/n) vs. Steve and Ian. Although that quickly changed to everyone vs. Bucky when he kept using (Y/n) as a human shield.

Steve took a moment to step back and watch his husband, wife, and son run around the garden with the hose and can of water. It was beautiful just laughing and running amongst each other. And although one child was missing, she was not forgotten. If anything-

"AH AH AH"

Everything stopped as (Y/n) started screaming. For a moment, they thought she was hurt. Bucky took her in his arms, looking for wounds. Steve scooped up Ian in his arms, looking around for a threat.

"I FEEL IT" she screamed, laughing as she started to bounce up and down and crying? Now everyone was confused, and Ian was a bit scared. (Y/n) saw this and quickly apologized, and offered an explanation.

" I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry, sweetheart," she said, kissing his cheeks as he started crying with her "Feel," she said, bringing his little hand down to her stomach. It was then that her husbands realized what was happening.

Ian quickly pulled his hand away as he felt something flutter against his hand from within her mommy's belly. " What is that?!" he asked, scared.

"Your sister, she's kicking"

"Really?" Steve whispered, leaning forward he reached out slowly. She took his hand and Bucky's and put it on her stomach. At first, there was nothing, but then Steve gasped, feeling a flutter under his palm She moved Bucky's hand so he could feel a bit too.

"I feel her," Bucky said the overwhelming emotions of excitement, anxiety, happiness, and fear all had him dropping to his knees in front of her. " I feel her"

"I do, too," Steve said as he put Ian down, kneeling next to Bucky.

For all her children, this was the first one she felt inside. She never imagined it'd feel something like this the joy and fear combined were almost paralyzing. She cried as she cradled her stomach.

"Hey, I've brought lunch"

"your sister kicked"

Ash dropped the bags in her hands and rushed to her mother's side. (Y/n) took her hand and placed it on her stomach between her father's. And for a moment, the family stood in silence in the backyard, touching each other and waiting.

"There," (Y/n) said as she moved Ash's hand to feel.

"That's so weird," she said, but her smile spoke volumes. Still, (Y/n) agreed. "okay, I've had my fill," she took her hand away " Come, Ian, I've brought lunch," and with that, she took her baby brother and left.

Ash's quick departure wasn't something new or to be taken as an offense. She simply did not enjoy touching or being touched all the time. Some parts of herself were not easily changed as others. (Y/n) was happy with the few minutes she was given.

Steve kissed her stomach as he wrapped his arms around her waist, hugging her lower half. "My beautiful wife and the mother of all of the children," he whispered.

Standing up, Bucky pulled her into a breathtaking kiss. " I love you til this day until me last"

"Actually, it's I love you til the end of the line. You need to stop watching Game of Thrones," Steve chuckled as he stood up " This is not Kings Landing." They began to walk to the house where their other children waited for them.

"You know nothing (Y/n) Roger-Barnes"

"Oh," (Y/n) stopped as she felt the first few droplets of rain touch her skin. Leaning her head back, she closed her eyes and smiled.

"Nope," Bucky snatched her and carried her into the house.

"What?!"

"I know that face, young lady," Steve said as he showed his fingers of disappointment " No singing in the rain, no dancing in the rain, no skipping, tipping, tapping, all of the above. No rain for you. I'm not having you get sick."

"What if we wear raincoats and boots?" Ian asked as he came around the corner into the kitchen, already putting on his coat.

"No, I'm not having either of you get sick," Steve said, taking his jacket.

Bucky put (Y/n) on the counter, the sick bastard knew she wouldn't be able to get down. Steve must have thought that it was a good idea because he put Ian on the counter too. Ash laughed as the two pouted, stuck on the counter.

"It's Father's Day, and we get what we want, and we don't want you running about in the rain."

"Can we at least watch the rain from the library?" Ian asked, the library had a nice window nook to curl up and watch the rain from.

"Sure, Steve and I grab a lunch," Bucky said as he helped Ian off the counter, and then (Y/n) and they both scurried off to the library.

"I see you inching towards the door," Steve said, addressing Ash, who was indeed inching out of the kitchen.

"Unlike you guys, I didn't get a day off of work. I have to get back."

Crossing the kitchen, Steve pulled Ash into a nearly bone-crushing hug. Ash let out a breathless laugh at her father's antics. "I love you," Steve said, kissing her forehead " You know that, right? That I love you"

"Of course"

"I feel like I don't tell you enough"

Ash chuckled " Trust me, you tell me enough, and when you are not telling me, you're making sure to squeeze my bones with it. Trust me, I know. And My sister will know too. She probably already knows, but she'll finally get to feel it when she gets here."

Bucky smiled as he watched the two embrace. To think some years ago the two were tiptoeing around each other. And now they were father and daughter and it was quite beautiful.

"Enough of this, I really have to get back to work"

"Alright, We'll see you tonight at dinner."

Dinner was at a fancy restaurant rented out for a private party by Tony, of course. All the Avengers and their families were present.

Steve, (y/n), and Bucky bringing Ian and Ash. Tony and Pepper bring Morgan and Peter ( May was invited but declined because she had a date. Coincidentally, so did Happy). Clint came with Lauren and their children Cooper, Lila, and Nathaniel. Wanda and Vision came with their twins, Billy and Tommy. Thor bringing his daughter Love. And Sam, Bruce, Rhodey, and Natasha all came in the clutch holding up their aunts and uncles/Godparents' titles very proudly.

It was a very full family dinner party.

"Alright," Standing up, raising his glass, " Today, we are all gathered here to celebrate fatherhood. I, for one, never thought I'd be worth enough to be someone's father, yet here I came with two beautiful children" everyone noted Peter blush " who I love very much. I have had many positions and titles in my life, and I can say, and I know many will agree with me, that my favorite title has been and will always be dad. To all the mothers sitting at this table, and not, thank you for our children. And to all the children sitting amongst us, know that no matter how we got there or how it ends, we will always love you no matter what. 3000."

Everyone raised their glasses " 3000"

"I'm surprised it didn't make a dig at our age," Bucky whispered to Sam as they began to eat.

"Pepper told me not to" Tony teased

"there are children present please be nice"

"Of course, dear," Pepper pinched him.

Conversations flowed as dinner came. It was like a reunion of sorts. It had been quite some time since they all had been in the same place together, like this hell, even the same planet. Thor and Bruce had kindly put their galaxy travels on hold for this dinner. And then, with Tony, (Y/n), Clint, and Steve being semi-retired, not many original Avengers were running around they were more focused on family now. Can't really blame them though most of them didn't believe they'd live long enough to have a family, they were dedicated.

Despite all their hardships life was treating them well.

"Daddy, I've got to pee," Ian announced. No hesitation, Bucky Jumped up, scooping Ian as he went. Rushing to the bathroom before any accidents could happen.

"So (Y/n), how are you feeling? Pepper told me that your mini-me was starting to kickbox." Tony always strange approach.

"Yeah, she gave me a few butterfly kicks this earlier today."

"She's moving," Sam gasped

"She just started moving today, just before lunch tiny little kicks, not much but still beautiful," Bruce said, matter factly he got a few surprised looks " What, I'm in the aunts and moms chat group. I know things you will never," the girls laughed at this because it was true.

"how do you become an aunt?"

"It just comes naturally," Bruce said smugly. Sam pouted, all in good fun.

(Y/n) smiled as Bucky and Ian returned to the table she gave him a quick kiss before he sat down she gave Steve a kiss as well. Looking around the table, they were surrounded by family and friends and just love and affection. She realized this right here, this was the life she had always wanted always dreamed of. Of course, it wasn't exactly as she dreamt of, more exciting with a few more details out of the world (literally). It was even better. And it was her life, and it was real.

From a Brooklyn girl pinning for two to a famous hero nurse, surrounded by her hero friends and family, married to her first two loves, famous heroes in their own rights, and mother of two beautiful children with one more on the way.

This was her life, and she loved it.

#fanfiction #polyamourous fanfiction #polyamorous fanfic #polyamourous series #polyamorous #stucky fanfiction #stucky x reader #steve rogers fanfiction #steve roger x reader #bucky barnes fanfiction #Bucky Barnes x reader #steve roger x Bucky Barnes #avengers fanfiction #Steve rogers x reader x Buckly Barnes #Epilogue #the end

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plottwiststudios · 3 years ago

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Women of Xal: Launched

Should I be conscious after working all night and morning to get our Amare / Otome visual novel “Women of Xal” officially available on Steam after it left Early Access and entered into the big girl pool of Full Releases? Probably not. But let’s just give this one last go. Shall we?

STEAM RELEASE LINK | ITCH.IO LINK

Follow Xjena as she begins her climb up the dangerous political ladder against other women eying the same, powerful position of Matriarch. Help those who need it immediately, or focus on the future and potentially help a wider range of people. The path is yours to walk. Or chuck her into a tragic death run. Players gonna play.

Join Xjena on a 10 hour story with countless branching paths and ways to complete each individual day. No two playthroughs are the same, and your friends may have very different experiences with the characters than you do!

Choices are not binary, and one good deed does not wash out the bad, nor the bad the good.

Who let me be in charge of how many choices you get in this game? Apparently there's over 600 menu choices?

Xjena has just as much a personality as you, so she interacts with the world not as a silent protagonist, but a woman with plenty agency.

The world and its characters will not revolve around Xjena or her schedule. It's up to the player to be involved in their lives.

In a stunt we'll probably, hopefully never do again, you can date/befriend 12 full “Romance/Friend” routes that are NOT blocked!

That means you can romance multiple people in one playthrough without worrying about being locked out from someone. Why?

Because romanceable characters interact with each other due to an incredibly intricate affection system that allows and encourage polyamorous options.

^ End me.

Romance options can turn into enemy options for certain playthroughs... and it can uh, Go Places. Like one of them killing Xjena real early.

140 minute soundtrack with familiar Jazzy vibes, niche ambiance and synth-heavy tracks, and genres I'm pretty sure the composer (see: me) made up.

Over 100 special illustrations for important scenes and romantic/platonic moments. See the 4th bullet point for this segment.

The writer for this description page is also the head and main writer for the game's script. This is either a bane or a boon, depending on the reader.

Jump into the lore today! The water is fine. I hear it's a bit deep, but Xjena is here to make your journey into Xal as seamless as possible! Solve the mysteries, make your new friends smile, and go on a journey that will stick with you for a long, long time. Go to Steam for more information and to purchase the game!

STEAM PAGE | ITCH.IO

#Women of Xal #WoX #Amare #Otome #Visual Novel #Reblog if you wish #I'm too dev-tired to try and #encourage folks to aggressively reblog to feed the hungry artist #Ever been there?#The whole too tired to do more than the minimum?

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genshinboys · 3 years ago

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Zhongli x Childe - POLYAMOROUS HCS

WARNING: NSFW, GAY CONTENT, FEM READER / ZHONGLI / CHILDE POLYAMOROUS RELATIONSHIP

„Who are you?”

The box with personal belongings feels heavy in your hands once you not so gracefully stumble into the office of who you presume to be your future co-workers. You were given their names, the number of the room, the exact floor you should be heading to, some details about not getting lost on the way out of the elevator as the corridors here are long and lead to a dozen other rooms and offices, which you most likely not want to become acquainted with on your first day of work. So far, life has taught you to take things one step at a time, and you are infallibly so, a zealous supporter of that claim.

However, to be quite frank, no amount of prior instruction or fair share of warning could prepare you for the disastrously handsome two men currently curiously ogling you from behind their desks.

Were they not informed of your arrival?

The brunet adjusts his glasses by pushing them further up his nose with a long finger. The documents piling right next to his elbow do a very bad job at hiding his perfect-side profile, even though the stack mounts high enough to reach his shoulders. His gaze is measuring and observant. The black rim of his glasses creates a stark contrast to the shimmering depth of gold hues alerted by your presence. Yet, he remains professionally calm, motionless as these ancient marble statues.

The other one - the blue-eyed ginger - jumps to his feet excitably. The said eyes flip through your whole person, devoting more than an acceptable amount of time to inspect your cleavage. He raises his eyebrow. The corner of his mouth moves upwards as well, and he hums approvingly once he stands firm before you. He is tall. Too tall. The jingle jangle of the trinkets in your box intensifies as your clammy hands begin to shake when you attempt to hide from him behind the content of the box.

„I-I’m your new co-editor.”

Your stuttering, treacherous mouth transforms the sentence into a slur of weird sounds.

„Oh-oh?”

The ginger muses in a pleasant hum that thrills you and makes things swirl in your stomach in an odd way.

„That cannot be.”

Yeah, that simply cannot be, as has the blue-eyed walking perfection just retorted. With all due respect, all these years of being a columnist for different newspapers and you still haven’t met a single man that could tick off all the boxes for what you would call a handsome or potentially interesting male. Well, maybe your ex. But, that’s a long story. And now, just like that, you meet not one but two (!) of the most dashing men you have ever seen in your life who are supposed to be your fellow journalists? Bollocks.

You take a wobbly step back to check the number of the room as more distrustful thoughts swarm your brain. Everything seems to be just fine, though? The blue eyes narrow on you when you continue your monkey dance with the overflowing box in your hold.

„Listen, pretty girl. If you’re yet another lost lamb looking for the model agency - it is the building right across the street. Not this one, alright?”

He makes a ‘shoo away’ gesture with his hands, sighing audibly. The contagious happy vibes radiating from him just moments ago suddenly went out of the window.

„I’m sorry b-b---,”

You interrupt, but he is relentless.

„It’s all fine. I know, I know. Being all pretty like that it’s only fair you didn’t get luckier in the big brains department. Don’t worry. There are roughly a few girls a week that come knocking at our offices’ doors lost and confused. But hey, at least this time you really are cute.”

You feel his fingers brazenly sneaking up your shoulders to lead you out.

„Have you just offended me?”

You dig your heels into the floor to hold your ground steadily. The man smirks, amused by the resistance on your side. Maybe you’re not that silly after all.

„More like complimented your looks.”

You briefly wonder if slapping the colleague’s face during your first meeting is the right way to hit it off at the new workplace. He grins wider as if he was a psychic reading your thoughts. You shoot him a pointed stare, which does nothing to tame the oozing from him smugness. Fine, then, a slap it is.

„Childe, I beg of you. Don’t demoralize our future..., erm, partner. We won’t be getting another one.”

You’re held back by the other male, admittedly just as handsome albeit seemingly less of a dickhead after the quick yet thorough consideration you have just silently done in your head.

„Easy there, Mr Zhongli. I’m merely checking if she has what it takes to adjust to our line of work.”

Son of a---, you curse the living shit out of him, Childe, or whatever his ridiculously stupid name is.

„Your father will not be happy if she hands in the resignation like the others did.”

The fine brunet melancholically lifts himself from his leather chair, chastising the ginger male with practised accuracy. Uh-huh. The good and bad cop syndrome. You get it now. Not only their beauty contrasts like night and day, but so does their behaviour.

Childe’s smug smile disappears quickly only to be replaced with a frown and pouty lips when the perhaps just slightly older man crosses his arms on the chest, opting to stand in a hairbreadth distance from the two of you. Childe stiffens, eyes roll to the back of his head at being so openly put in place by the disapproving man. There is some argument going on between these two, or more like Mr Zhongli talking to the ginger-head as if he was reasoning with an actual child(e). No pun intended.

In such close quarters, their handsome features appear to be even more surreal. You blink and blink, thinking that maybe if you blink hard enough, they will stop being so picture-perfect, and your eyes will finally spot some flaws. Ha, how naive.

Mr Zhongli is well versed and classy. That much you can tell despite the numbness of your limbs and the increasing fogginess in your awed brain. Even if Mr Zhongli is older than that bratty little shit, it does nothing to take away his godly-like appearance. It roots you to the spot and makes you want to stare at him as if he was a deity. You would be actually ready to bet your monthly wages that the guy was indeed some sort of a god in one of his previous lives.

„Childe, now, take that box from our guest and let’s properly introduce ourselves.”

It’s not even an excessive request, just a regular act of seemliness and well-accepted conduct of behaviour, but Childe scoffs. He’d be oh-so happier if he could tease you a little bit more. Nevertheless, he turns to you, face pretty much still very arrogant despite getting an earful from Mr Zhongli. So vain. How can such a pompous bastard be so attractive? His fingers brush over yours when he assuredly retrieves the box from your shaky hold. With a final wink directed at your flustered self, he spins on his heel to trudge towards the only empty desk in the office.

„Here, doll. Your humble quarters.”

He drops the box on the desk and extends his arm to show you to your new workplace. It is undeniably an upgrade from your previous squeaky chair, and an old scratched, terribly battered with the flow of time computer. It all looks so expensive and modern. You once again question the stroke of luck that has brought you to this place today. Was it the fate making amends to you? Right about the damn time, if you were to be asked.

It certainly wasn’t the nicest of experiences to be cheated on by your fiancé, who also happened to be the chief editor of the scandal-seeking tabloid you were previously writing for. You broke up with him and decided to move on quickly. For some reason, you didn’t struggle much with finding a new job. It still seems a bit fishy - the fact that you were essentially hired after the first meeting with the owner of this weekly newspaper. It’s a renowned and well-established Liyuean periodical, one you were always admiring and would not dare to dream to work for.

Now, that you look at the handsome youth, he does somehow bear resemblance to the man who interviewed you before. There is also something weird about the way he speaks, something distinctively foreign, but also not completely new as you are positive you must have already heard it, possibly while speaking to the owner of this newspaper. You know he is of Sneznayhan origin. Are you going to be working with his son? Looks like it. With him and his ostensibly handsome, but much more sensible sidekick.

„You have to forgive Childe. He tends to get a little bit too..., enthusiastic at times. Especially that the prospect of working with a new, however extremely promising colleague is in fact, thrilling. Even for me.”

Golden pupils riffle through you. A small smile lurks somewhere behind the long and shiny strand of hair that frames his visage, but he keeps it at bay, fishing for your reaction. Promising? What does he exactly mean by that? And why is his presence so strong that you feel like your legs are set in stone, unable to move away from him?

Seeing that he has managed to more or less win you over with his soft-spoken eloquence, he presses on. Both of you choose to remain ignorant to the way Childe has allowed himself to rummage through your belongings. With a clatter, items are being dropped to the desk as the younger male busies himself with unpacking you.

„Excuse that appalling faux pas. It shall not repeat itself. My name is Zhongli. I’m a humble co-writer, a close associate of Childe, whom, I trust, you must have already recognised as the owner’s son. It just so happens we’ve been rather weighed down by the staggering amount of work lately.”

He makes it a point to nod his head at the never-ending pile of documents on his and Childe’s desks.

„With the rise of popularity that we’ve been enjoying, Childe’s father has concluded that we’d need more capable hands to write and edit articles for our beloved newspaper. Hence, your presence here today. It makes me very glad if I may be so bold. I’ve been quite impressed by some of your articles. The choice of words - exquisite. I immediately recommended you as the most adequate candidate for this position.”

The handsome man rambles, and his voice flows smoothly, like honey pours into your heart, occasionally leaving you battling a shiver of excitement when he hits a particularly low tone. You are afraid to breathe, not wanting him to stop the pleasant tirade that has effectively pushed you into a shivering limbo state.

„Who the hell is that?”

Childe groans in a somewhat accusatory manner He has picked up a photo frame, and it dangles in the air when he questions further.

„Don’t tell me it’s your boyfriend?”

He doesn’t try to hide the look of disgust on his face when he gives the photo another glance over with his unimpressed eyes. He shifts his gaze to you, expectant.

„Well, no, no. It’s my ex.”

Childe smirks devilishly, looking rather relieved at the word ex.

You wave your hands in the air, embarrassed. How did the photo end up in the box anyway? It’s not like you packed it there deliberately or knowingly. Whatever. Your eyebrows pinch, and you give out a weak sound of helplessness at the haunting you now events from the previous month.

„So why the hell is he still in the frame, in this box?”

The air is heavy with tension when Childe waits but only a few moments for your answer before he moves to the window and boldly throws the photo out.

„We don’t collect rubbish here, girlie.”

Zhongli clears his throat to fill the awkward silence that follows.

„Well, I suppose we could get you a nicer frame, right? It didn’t really seem to match the décor of the office.”

The brunet reasons with the fingertips gripping his chin.

„That would be a nice welcoming gift. How about we take a photo now to commemorate our meeting?”

Zhongli smiles fondly. The sweet fragrance of silk flowers tinged with a heavier musky scent enter your nostrils as the man shimmies closer to you. His eyes gently ask for permission to take your smaller hand in his and lead you to the desk where Childe is wasting no time, phone ready in his hand and the camera settings adjusted.

„Fine.”

You croak out weirdly.

The one step at a time approach does seem to be a bit of a rusty concept now.

The days in the office go by quickly. They become warmer and warmer with the spring sunshine flooding through the large glass windows right onto the surface of your and your new colleagues’ desks. Similarly, these warmer and longer days see about a change in the relationship between you and these two handsome men as it gradually thaws, like the last drifts of snow.

And although the beginnings might have been difficult, Childe does not seem to be half as bad as he made himself out to be on the first meeting. The urge to slap his face is also not as frequent and not nearly as powerful as it used to be. Well, he still has his full-jerk moments, but overall it is all bearable.

ღ He’d bring you coffee, every day by the nature of habit, even though he himself might be not the biggest fan of the bitter taste. He is bound to spruce it up with a little ‘you’re welcome, doll’ before he opens the lid for you and begins to blow on the piping hot beverage to make sure you won’t burn yourself while taking the first rejuvenating sip.

ღ He’ll absolutely not forget about the custom brewed tea from the finest and fanciest blends he could lay his hands on while frequenting the premium tea shops scattered all over Liyue. He’d brew it himself in the tiny kitchen, located not so far away from your shared office. Is it a coincidence? Likely not, as you later discovered - Zhongli is an avid fan of tea, and Childe oftentimes disappears behind the kitchenette doors to quickly prepare one for him when the older man looks rather depleted by the long lines of text.

ღ He might not be the best tea brewer, as the title without a doubt belongs to Mr Zhongli himself, but he will do his best while following the instructions so often mused out loud by the older man. The soft smile on Zhongli’s face when he is handed the deliciously smelling tea made by none other but the proud ginger? A priceless sight to witness, and you’d always end up feeling hot all over your body no matter how many times you’ve seen it.

„Childe, Dear, you’ve outdone yourself this time.”

„You always say the same thing, Zhongli.”

„But I firmly believe it to be true, Childe.”

ღ He also quite quickly picked up on your sweet tooth and has ever since abused that weakness of yours by toting around various types of confectionery in the roomy confines of his briefcase. He’d bribe you with some of them when you turn a little bit sour due to his constant teasing. He can’t help it, though. He finds your reactions sweeter than any candy he’s ever tasted in his life.

„Don’t be angry, Y/N. It was just an innocent joke.”

He whines like a teenage boy. Your cheeks turn red when you realise how borderline lewd he sounds, intentionally or not. It’s quite impressive how his voice can go from dark and menacing to innocent and cute on a whim. It’s like the man has a split-personality syndrome, and you never know which of these you will have to take on.

„There is nothing innocent about pinching my buttocks, idiot.”

There comes a choked chuckle from the direction of Zhongli’s desk, but he quickly drowns out the sound by rustling the newsprint.

„I guess when you say it like that, it does sound a little bit..., bad. But, here, how about some candy as an apology? I did buy more of these chocolate coated plums you enjoyed so much.”

He then looks at you with these ocean-blue eyes as the skin around them crinkles adorably.

ღ Childe is a wealthy man. Stinking rich type of wealthy man, too. You would be a liar if you didn’t admit that such a situation doesn’t come with its obvious perks. He drives a pitch-black Bugatti. He drives it with one hand on the steering wheel while the other arm hangs out of the window. Childe always used to drive with Zhongli sitting next to him, but now doesn’t mind at all when you take his usual spot while the charming brunet reads the book on the back seat.

ღ He wears pitch-black sunglasses that match his car and the tight distressed jeans, clinging to his plump ass like a second skin. Not that you were checking him out, or anything. Although, as meaty as his ass looks, Zhongli’s is arguably even rounder. You might have even seen Childe pinching that peachy bum while offering to open the car door for Mr Zhongli. You turned your eyes away. In fact, you always do when the two close associates act in ways that go beyond the dictionary definition of associates term.

„Aren’t you in an exceptionally good mood today, Childe?”

The brunet lures with a husky timbre, disguising the whole scene behind the false pretence of a friendly exchange between colleagues. Two rip-off artists with terrible acting skills, on top of that. The younger man grins wider than the sun.

„How can I not with such good company?”

And then Childe freezes you in place with his eyes shifting their focus to your flustered person as you shrink away from the familiar grin plastered on his face.

„Most lovely company, indeed, Dear. We’ve been blessed by good fortune like never before.”

Mr Zhongli’s acknowledgement is sudden and equal in bluntness to Childe’s blabbering mouth. The rich amber of his irises glimmers in the warm autumnal shades that dis-empower you further as he proceeds to inspect you with rising interest. If you didn’t know him any better, you’d say that there is a tell-tale sign of a small smirk forming on his handsome features, but he swiftly simmers it down.

„May I?”

He walks up to you and offers for you to wrap your arm around his, which you do, albeit it feels as if the move itself took your whole strength away.

„Childe, we should stop for some cooler drink on our way to the office. Y/N seems a bit flushed.”

Childe tilts his head like a cat towards you.

„Poor little thing, must be the hot weather, isn’t it?”

ღ Speaking of habits, you’ve developed quite a few over these couple of months of intense bonding with your fellow article writers. One of such customs are the gym escapades that leave you out of breath, oftentimes not because of the tough exercises, but more like the sight of the ginger flexing his muscles in the barbell bent-over row. His back is broad, thighs wound up so tight they seem harder than a rock. He’s also very likely to drop his t-shirt somewhere on the floor between the sets. Eyes invariably checking up on you, with a ‘she’s here with me’ death glare fixed on any curious male eyes within Childe’s sniffing distance. Childe is on the watch. And what if Mr Zhongli chooses to come along with you? Oh, good manners be damned. The hawk-eye will hunt down every single one of them.

„Hey, watch it.”

Unceremoniously, Childe threatens with a finger pointed at the staring-a-little-bit-too-much guy. Mr Zhongli smirks, content with the younger’s vehemence. He might have even chuckled, but you can’t hear well because of the thumping music coming from the speakers. He beckons Childe over with his commanding look, and needless to say, the ginger would almost trip over his legs with how fast he wants to fulfil the brunet’s wish. This time Mr Zhongli is definitely stifling a laugh before he places his palm on the back of Childe’s neck and pulls him in. Is Childe blushing? The older man stops at Childe’s earlobe, whispering something right into the ginger’s ear and then, suddenly, both of them turn to you?

Woah.

Gallivanting blue pupils pursue you together with the amused amber of Zhongli’s dragon-like eyes. Childe nods in agreement as if he was signing a pact with this mischievous dragon. A signature smirk. Childe struts towards your slightly agitated little body and starts playfully tickling your sides. It tickles so much. Everything in your belly tightens while you attempt not to topple over, still holding your weights.

„Childe stop!”

He doesn’t, of course. The weights promptly disappear from your hands with the sudden arrival of Mr Zhongli. He is careful, protective. He’d never let you get hurt in the process. Especially that he is the mastermind of this shameless attack. Your hands drop to Childe’s, seeking defence, wanting to push his roving hands away. Alas, the man is stronger, giggling and puffing hot air with his face glued to your neck. He swathes your body with his sturdy, bigger one until you feel like there is no room to breathe, and you’re basically pinned together. Wide-eyed, squirming and almost crying from how much your body is twitching under Childe’s prodding fingers, a plea makes it out of your tight chest.

„Mr Zhongli, please help! Please!”

Zhongli sucks in a breath, palpably going through some kind of an internal conflict. The gold in his eyes flares with friskiness you’ve never suspected him of being capable of.

„Help?”

The towering over you brunet queries while your panting and gasps intensify. It’s either he derives pleasure from watching you suffer under Childe’s playful touch, or he is just completely clueless.

„And why should I, my Dearest?”

You make a small noise of confusion before breaking into more helpless cries and whimpers when Zhongli takes your hands in his and forces them together, pressing them close to his chest so that Childe can have better access to your tummy. It’s not the - good, always helpful and caring Mr Zhongli. You feel betrayed. You look up at him with wounded, glossy from laughing eyes, only to find the man staring at you with a misty gaze.

„Forgive me, Little Crumb.”

Zhongli whispers huskily.

Holy shit.

Has he just called you a new pet name?

ღ You cling to the handrail as you climb the slippery steps leading to the floor where your office is situated. The cleaning lady sure is very liberal with the amount of detergents and soap water she uses to rub this vast surface clean.

„Fuck!”

This - and other curses that would turn even the oldest sailor’s ears red - echo in the stairway as the flight from your annoying admirer ensues. He is one of the Sports columnist, and ever since they were transferred to the ground floor, your evasive skills have proven to be insufficient to wiggle your butt out of his advances. He’d always be waiting for you next to the elevator, hands in his pockets, a cocky, absolutely disgusting ‘hello pretty!’ when he fishes you out from the bunch of people at the entrance. It’s gotten so bad that you’ve decided to say goodbye to the lift services, befriending the never-ending flights of stairs.

This time, however, the creep must have seen through your escape route and immediately launched from his desk to chase after you.

Hence, your current predicament. Regretfully, the expensive red high heels that have been gifted to you by Childe despite your fierce protests don’t help in improving the situation for you. You turn your head back, revolted. The puffing and gasping speed up as the man is essentially nipping at your heels. ‘That’s it’ - you think to yourself when you take an awkward, big lunge forward to counter the last two steps, but sadly, you trip!

Talk about timing.

Waggling your arms in the air, your body free-falls as the surroundings whirr before your eyes wildly, so you squeeze them shut, preparing for the imminent disaster. But, the humiliating tumble doesn’t happen as you land into something much softer than the ground. The silk flowers’ scent blended with musk and wood notes warmly hug your body as two strong arms circle around your waist.

„Mr Zhongli?”

His features soften at your adorable reaction of relief mixed with gratitude, but he holds you close, indulgently digging his fingers into the supple flesh of your hips. He does it a bit unknowingly, too caught up in the way you look back into his glinting with secret emotions eyes.

„Little Crumb, I told you so many times to be more careful.”

„I’m so sorry, Mr Zhongli.”

„I know you are, Dear.”

He reassures you, hands move up and down your back, and the sensation sinks into the crevices of your senses, making you want to strip for the man and beg him for more. Woah. Hold up. What are you even thinking?

You don’t have time to ponder upon the lewdness of your thoughts as your knight in shining armour stiffens a bit. His dragon eyes pointedly stare at something or rather someone behind your back. The grip on your hip tightens.

„Mr X, it seems to me you must have got lost. Shouldn’t you be working on the ground floor together with other sports columnists?”

Zhongli asks, but clearly isn’t interested in the answer when he straight away ignores the man, scooping you closer to safely lead you to your office.

Needless to say, you’ve never heard of Mr X after that incident.

Having walked into the newspaper office so late at night, you didn’t expect to bump into anybody. You had to come back here for some of the documents. You wanted to have a closer look at them over the weekend. But, one step out of the elevator and you’re left frozen, legs giving out the closer you get to the... scandalous sounds coming from the depths of your office.

Your heart goes berserk, pounding like a drum in your chest in anticipation of what is about to happen; what you’re about to see once you peek into the office.

Moans, gasps? Wait a minute, have you just heard a slap?

On your tippy-toes, you creep to the door that was left slightly ajar. You crane your neck, sneaking a shy little look inside. Cheeks burn so badly, the heat pulses in unison with your galloping heart.

Shit.

Your trembling hand shoots up to your mouth, hysterically fighting the whimper that nearly, oh so nearly flies past your lips. The empty bag for documents rolls off your shoulder and it silently falls to the ground.

In hindsight, it shouldn’t have surprised you so much. Your co-workers; these two hot men half-naked and kissing each other ferociously, their bodies tangled, brushing against each other with dire urgency.

You stare at the bewitching scene in dead-like silence. The crimson cheeks of yours continue prickling with heat, which faster than lightning shoots down your body, nestling low beneath the belly button.

Childe whines pitifully when his head bounces off the wall, but he does not seem to care too much, his hands immediately dragging Zhongli close to his body. The younger one pulls him in for another kiss that is arguably more teeth than a tongue, moaning louder than before when the brunet pins him against the cold brick surface. He holds him patiently, tenaciously so, despite Childe’s writhing hips. He fumbles with the older’s belt, wailing lamentably when he cannot get to Zhongli’s cock right this instant. Abruptly, Zhongli parts their lips with a wet sound.

„Don’t be impatient, Dear. You’ll end up being hurt.”

Childe, as if the man’s words fell on deaf ears, tugs at the fabric, pulls incessantly until finally, finally Zhongli’s cock springs free. He gapes at the man’s length with drool dripping down his chin, which is promptly wiped dry by Zhongli’s thumb swiping tenderly across Childe’s open lips. You swallow hard, suddenly reminded of the saliva gathering in your mouth. Zhongli is massive. Perfectly shaped, a thick, bulging slab of meat. Your thighs feel wet with the slick seeping through your panties when you squeeze them shut, seeking any kind of friction.

„I swear if you don’t do something, anything I’ll---,”

Childe’s bruised lips turn into an o-shape when Zhongli pumps two fingers in. The ginger moans lewdly, quickly accommodating to the burn of long fingers pushing down his throat. It’s in fact nothing when you compare it to Zhongli’s monstrous hardness.

„You will what, Childe?”

The brunet says lowly, enthralled by the way his lover meticulously coats his fingers with almost religious worship glinting in his ocean-blue eyes.

„Be a good boy, and I shall reward you.”

Childe’s sucking intensifies at that promise. Restless hips piston into Zhongli’s with renewed zeal. Zhongli hums in approval, withdrawing the glistening fingers from the ginger’s eager mouth.

„P-Please, just hurry up, p-please, na-ah!”

Childe begs, having forsaken his pride. His usually suave voice cracks the moment Zhongli reaches for his naked thigh and hooks it over his shoulder upon kneeling before him.

„Undo your buttons. I want to see your chest.”

Your stomach drops to your knees when Childe just rips the shirt, sending the buttons flying all over the office to fulfil Zhongli’s selfish request. With Childe’s underwear being swiftly pushed down to his ankles by Zhongli’s roving hands, both men are now naked right in front of your eyes.

If possible, your body flushes even more. The tension in your belly forms a tight knot that forces you to continue rubbing your thighs together. It’s not enough, though. No matter how much you press them together, it keeps tingling inside.

„F-Fuck, Zhongli!”

Childe curses, sobbing pleas are now continuously torn out of his dry throat with Zhongli’s lips tightly wrapped around his throbbing dick. Saliva-coated fingers prod at the ginger’s entrance, making him lift his leg higher to feel the pleasant burn of being worked open by the brunet’s digits. Zhongli - dissatisfied with the shallow thrusts of his fingers into the ginger’s tight hole - reaches for the vial of lube secretly hidden in his trousers’ pocket. The fragrance of silk flowers floats in the air around them as Zhongli covers the younger male with the sticky substance. The lovely scent of Childe’s juices mixed with the sweetness of the flowery lube slowly makes it to your nostrils, and you inhale wantonly. It smells like Mr Zhongli himself with the subtle notes of Childe’s rich essence. It intoxicates you like the best of drugs as heat pools low between your legs.

The fluttery sensation becomes worse with each moan, each profanity slipping past the ginger’s obscene mouth. You feel on fire, ready to combust at any moment. Your strength has left you, and at this point, you’re weekly clinging to a wall on wobbly legs. Blood rushes to your clit. It pulses in hot waves, spreading all over your groin. Having little control over your actions, a clammy hand slides down to your swollen folds, where you begin to rub synchronously with Zhongli’s bobbing head. It’s maddening. The tension below your navel makes you absent-mindedly rut into your palm. The other hand is still securely placed on your mouth, preventing you from whimpering too loud.

„Too fast, ah-ngyahh, you’re going to make me cum!”

Childe lets out a cry that unexpectedly pushes you over the edge as your thickened folds begin to throb. Everything turns white, and your limbs go stiff when your orgasm attacks you so violently. Your thighs quake, and breath hitches on and on while you pathetically try to control the flow of air whooshing straight into your hyperventilating lungs.

„No-ah-no, I want to cum with you in me!”

Childe keeps protesting as his greedy palms card through inky locks. His anus burns and the twitching tip of his cock releases cloudy droplets of pre-cum onto the older’s loving tongue. Zhongli doesn’t waste a single drop, swirling his tongue around the delicate tip with learned by heart accuracy. All of the ginger’s sensitive spots are etched in his memory. Childe moves his hips around anxiously. The stimulation from both sides leaves him on the verge of ejaculating all over Zhongli’s perfect mouth. Pulse thunders against his veins, the man keeps chocking on his pathetic moans. And with that one final lewd look from the clouded dragon eyes, Childe yanks the brunet’s long strands to get him off his aching cock.

Holy fuck. He was seconds from bursting because of the way Zhongli looked at him.

Zhongli groans angrily at being so openly defied. He rises to his feet, towering over the younger male.

„J-Just fuck me already, you-you stubborn old ass.”

Childe stutters out in a voice that doesn’t resemble his own anymore.

„I don’t care if it hurts.”

The meek words barely make it out of his throat before the other male lunges at him with a fiery passion. Zhongli is on him. Ravaging mouth litters his neck with bites as Zhongli’s canines pierce the skin. The older grunts in frustration when the shirt is still on his way, not allowing him to mark his lover. He moves lower, finding satisfaction in abusing Childe’s nipple. The ginger shakes as if he was about to fall, ready to get to his knees to beg for any type of release.

„Zhongli!”

He feels himself being lifted from the ground, and a sense of relief washes over him. The brunet angles himself perfectly, and in a precise thrust pushes past the taut rim of Childe’s entrance.

Childe screams.

„Is that to your liking, Dear?”

The ginger hisses out air, legs wrapped around Zhongli’s waist so tightly you could think he wants them to merge into one. Childe doesn’t come up with any bratty response, as of now, he is being drilled by Zhongli’s thick cock so hard he wouldn’t be able to recall his name. His back arched, bodies slide against each other as Zhongli picks up the speed.

Your hips jerk. Thighs shake with effort when you can’t bring yourself to stop touching these twitching folds. You hear Zhongli cursing Childe’s tight heat, telling him to relax. You breathe in laboriously through your nose, your walls clamp down on the plunging digits when Childe moans out more of his „yes, please, yes” nonsense. The second orgasm leaves you even more depleted and considerably more teary-eyed as you furiously pump the digits in and out of your clenching cunt. It’s wet, dripping everywhere, making sloppy sounds as you finger yourself relentlessly. It’s like you are in a daze, unable to shake out of it when they fuck each other so lewdly in front of your eyes.

„Childe, you’re taking me so well. Is that what you wanted, huh? You look so pretty, crying around my cock. Absolutely ethereal.”

Zhongli praises continuously, his hips withdrawing only to slam back into Childe’s fluttering entrance. He fucks him so roughly it makes you feel sorry for the ginger. Will he even be able to walk after that kind of sex? You seriously doubt it.

„C-Cum with me, nyhah---, I can’t hold it back anymore, ahh!”

Childe plunges into such deep pleasure there seems to be no escape. Zhongli’s hips stammer, balancing on the edge after hearing the younger’s desperate plea.

„F-Fuck, Childe, archons above-”

Zhongli moans out, smashing his dick into Childe, fireworks explode in his stomach, and he reaches his breaking point. He rolls his hips into the younger male, panting, grunting low in ecstasy. His long hair drag across his shoulders as he moves quickly, riding out his and Childe’s orgasm as well as he only can. The ginger is blissed out. The sizzling heat in his stomach makes him dig his nails into the jade-pale skin of Zhongli’s back. He sobs when Zhongli squeezes the final milky pearls of cum out of his cock, subsequently collapsing into the brunet’s arms like a rag doll.

Haze descends on you amidst the after-shock of yet another brutal release. It all kept happening so fast, the pleasure so intense and overbearing you don’t think you’ve ever experienced something like this in your life. Your heart keeps hammering like crazy when you realise you have to get out of there before they catch you sneaking up on them. Shaking like a leaf, you somehow make it to the elevator and proceed to press the ground floor button maniacally.

Little do you know that in the heat of the moment you forgot about the bag. It’s right there, on the floor, waiting for Mr Zhongli to stumble upon it when he leaves the office to fetch a glass of water for his thirsty and tired lover.

This is the end of part one. If you’re interested in reading the continuation of the story please make sure to visit my blog :> I’ll be posting the second part soon. Meanwhile, if you feel like screaming at me for this disgusting cliffhanger, go ahead. My askbox is open <3

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If you enjoy my writing please leave a comment, reblog, visit my blog and interact with me <3 It means a lot and keeps me motivated!

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blackenedwhite97 · 4 years ago

Text

Coming Out [Poly! Erasermic x {Fem}Reader]

Hello! this was a requested fic from like before Christmas. I'M A MESS I KNOW I'M SORRY! I’ll be catching up at some point, I'm in my final sem at uni and have MAJOR senioritis. Me no do unless me have to. Instead, now I just spend my time staring at the existential abyss the threatens to swallow my ceiling and think about everything I'm procrastinating. But I digress...

Content Warning: This story is of a negative experience coming out as poly to your family, this deals with rejection from the reader's mother, father, and a grandparent. This story demonstrates Homophobia, xenophobia, traditionalist and conservative values and attitudes and may be triggering to some folks.

This story includes a Polyamorous relationship

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Word Count: 3.7 K (A baby story)

Y/N --- 4:06pm

Hey can my roomates come to dinner?

DAD --- 4:06

You mean the gays?

Y/M --- 4:08

Please don’t call them that. Neither of them are gay anyways, there’s more than just gay or straight.

DAD --- 4:10

Yeah whatever. Let your mom decide.

MOM --- 5:12

Sure, they can come.

Mom --- 5:23

Gma might be coming dinner tho. Maybe talk to them?

That conversation should have been enough of a warning for how the evening was going to transpire. At news of your grandmother attending dinner, you panicked and tried to back out of your plans. You had been growing steadily farther apart from your parents anyways, barely seeing them more that once a year if that. It’s not like they didn’t have their suspicions anyways, to them you were a single woman living in the big city sharing an apartment with two gay men. Not that they’d ever been to the apartment. If they had they might have notice that one of the two “bedrooms” was being used as an office. Earlier on in the relationship you were so deeply uncomfortable being around your parents alone, that you had Shouta come with you every visit because you were so paranoid you were just going to come out on the spot.

At first your parents were sure that you and Shouta were together. He had subconsciously cleaned up quite nice the first few times he met your parents anyways, wanting to make a good impression on them if you finally did tell them about your polyamorous relationship. Then as time went on you got busier and started to see them less. Shouta’s parents lived in the suburbs and you saw them on holidays, plus Shouta had come out to them as being bisexual a long time ago and hadn’t felt much pressure to hide the polyamorous nature of your relationship to begin with. Hizashi’s mom was still a city dweller in her 60’s and on top of doing the cute mom things like baking fantastic cookies and handing down family jewelry to the daughter in law, she’d also taken Hizashi and Shouta to their first pride in Tokyo and had an in-home recording studio where she recorded for local punk bands. She was, quite literally, a cool mom.

You gnawed vigorously at your thumbnail, not quiet biting the whole way through, instead riddling it with dents and cracks. Chewing your nails wasn’t a habit you’d always had, it became a sort of silent worry thing you started to do when you got to your agency and had to remain still and quiet during briefings, no matter how terrible the news was. Your ruined nail beds were an atrocity to Hizashi, who had paid several times for you to get a manicure to get your nails short and evenly trimmed so you could manage them on your own. You still somehow found a way to gnaw on the short squared off nubs of your nails though, and it drove him nuts. Shouta cared less, his hands were in ridiculous shape, he was callused and bruised, cracked and flaking all over the place and Hizashi would regularly force moisturizer on them. Shouta cared more about figure out the root stress, it’s not that Hizashi didn’t, he just didn’t know how to, so he settled for pampering you.

“It’s dead.” Hizashi huffed from the bedroom door. “Obliterated, actually.”

“Hmm?” You looked up from your phone, you hadn’t been reading any of the messages in the chat for a good few minutes and just let your eyes unfocus instead. You yanked your thumb from your mouth and hid it below the table like a child caught with a sweet they’d snuck from the kitchen before dinner, you knew he saw.

“Your nail.” Hizashi gently patted the end of his hair with his special fluffy towel that he’d convinced you and Shouta he needed to control his frizz (which he didn’t have) and padded towards the kitchen table where you sat. He placed a kiss on the top of your head as he strode around you.

“What’s up, love?” he murmured softly, leaning against the table next you. One of his legs propped up on the chair to your right and leaned down to look at your phone screen.

“This is going to go horribly.” You breathed, panicked as you set your phone down on the table.

“You don’t know that.” Hizashi looked back up at you and smiled sweetly.

“Not everyone’s mom is a cool rocker lady in her 60’s who lives in the heart of downtown still and is fully supportive of her child’s bisexual polyamorous relationship with their childhood best friend and an ex-small-town girl with an ultra-conservative family.” You huffed out in one long breath.

“That was oddly specific.” He chuckled softly. “What about Sho’s parents, they’re conservative?”

“Yeah, but his parents are at least polite and send us both Christmas gifts every year and keep any and all of their shittier opinions to themselves because they want their son to be happy.” You groaned dramatically, dropping your head onto his thigh, using the extra meat to muffle the noise.

“Y-your-” Hizashi’s leg twitched from the vibrations of your groan. “Your parents want you to be happy too, Y/n.”

You groaned into his thigh, trying to explain the difference between your parent’s and Shouta’s. Hizashi laughed and gently grabbed the side of your face, lifting it so you were no longer muffled by his leg.

“Try again.” He instructed.

“They only want me to be happy if it fits into their rigid frame of what acceptable happiness looks like.” You explained again.

“Hey,” Hizashi ran his thumb back and forth across your cheek, “have faith, baby. They’re your family, they love you.”

If only he’d been right.

Shouta was the know it all, the one that way always right. Hizashi on the other hand was quiet used to being the one that was not always right, he had no hubris about his intelligence what-so-ever. So much so that sometimes you and Shouta had to remind him that he was intelligent and offered a lot of knowledge and wisdom in many many ways: public speaking, social relationships, radio scripting, he spoke two languages fluently as well. However, this one-time Hizashi wished dearly that he had been right, that he was an insufferable know it all who never got it wrong. It was a different twisted feeling in his gut, sitting the back seat watching you try to keep it together in the front seat, than the usual mild embarrassment that faded after a couple of minutes when he was wrong about something. That was damn near luxurious compared to the painful knot tearing into his stomach.

The silence in the car was so dense and absolute that it almost physically gagged Hizashi and Shouta, the two of them were too afraid to say anything and break it. It felt as though the heavy silence was keeping you from breaking, as if it were applying enough pressure at all sides to keep the thin veneer of composure you were managing together. You felt it too, along with the heavy weight that was nearly crushing your chest, the thick doughy lump clogging your throat and the tremble in your lips. You took a deep breath, it getting caught halfway and freezing in to an unrealized sob that you pushed down.

Shouta huffed and pulled off to the side of the dark country road, slowing into the gravelly shoulder. He turned in his seat to face you, undoing his seat belt so he could fully turn his body. You kept your eyes out the window, trying with all your might not to let the tears that clouded your eyes to fall. You knew you’d need to cry about this, about your parents and their conditional love. You knew that this was something you would need to deal with, but you didn’t want to at this moment. You wanted to go home, take some sleeping medication and go to sleep, you wanted to wait until the open wound in your chest had stopped bleeding to begin treating it.

Your father was being facetious about your living arrangement as usual, whenever he was faced with Shouta and Hizashi his first reaction was to constantly point out that fact that you were a woman living with two men and that if they weren’t gay that one of them should have married you by now. Shouta and Hizashi had taken these comments like water rolling off of a duck’s back, Hizashi even grinned and mumbled something about your father tempting him. You could have kept your mouth shut, you could have kept your cool but Shouta’s hand was brushing against your thigh and you felt it tense into an annoyed fist. Something about Shouta’s minimal reaction lit a fire in you, more like an explosion. It was a surge of very sudden and very ferocious courage that lasted a split second and no longer. You’d practically shouted it, the ringing in your ears drowning whatever words you’d used out.

You were met with complete and utter silence, shock and fear thick in the air. You’d almost believed for a moment that you hadn’t done it, that you’d just shouted randomly and just scared everyone. But then your dad stood up, his shocked open mouth flattening out into a hard straight line, this jaw swelling as he clenched it.

“W-what?” he growled, stepping back from the table as if you were a threat.

You were ready to backtrack, you were so ready to just laugh and pretend you were fucking with him. But you spared a glance to Shouta and Hizashi, their faces pale and guilty. They, regardless of what you could say in an attempt to cover up what you’d just said, were basically admitting to it already. You instinctively shrunk back into your chair like you’d do when you were younger at the dinner table whenever something uncomfortable would come up. You could tell everyone was at a loss for words, the difference was that you were scared and at a loss for words, Shouta and Hizashi were shocked and at a loss for words and your father was steaming angry and at a loss for words.

Your mother, who had always been the least confrontational of the two turned away from you and almost in a show of disgust immediately went to comfort your grandmother. It was as if you were an afront to goodness, an act of moral atrocity being committed in front of them. Your father began to barrage you with passive aggressive questions and accusations towards Shouta and Hizashi. He was trying to understand while at the same time refusing to give you a chance to explain. You stopped listening after the first few sentences that came out of his mouth, falling back into an internal monologue filled with regret. He must have said something exceptionally terrible because in an instant Shouta was standing, his arm reaching out to separate you from him and he was shouting. Shouta never shouted, he barely voiced any form of annoyance or frustration in general when it wasn’t a learning moment for his students, but here he was on his feet volleying harsh word with your father.

Hizashi, you realized was attempting damage control, his hands raised and his voice lower than either of the other two men’s. You blinked back into the present, as noise filled your ears, you mother was crying, your father and Shouta were shouting and Hizashi was rambling panicked. You took a couple of deep breaths and stood up on shaky legs, gripping Shouta’s protective arm for support, and looked your father in the eyes. He faltered at the direct eye contact and you saw an opening where there was less shouting to contend with.

“Stop,” you hissed through gritted teeth. “this is why I never wanted to tell you! Why I was perfectly okay with living away from you guys for the rest- This is why I haven’t been home.”

Your mother gasped a ragged, tear-filled breath. She’d expressed before that she’d wished she could see you more often, that she’s noticed you’d been coming home less and less. You’d been good at covering it up, saying you were busy with work and simply couldn’t get the time off. You knew that what you’d just said hurt her, not in the way it should have. It hurt her because you’d just told them it was their fault that you felt unwelcomed here and not because you were afraid of your own parents.

“How long?” she breathed.

“Three years.” You sniffed, hand tightening around Shouta’s wrist.

“THREE?! THR-” your father bellowed in disbelief. “For three years they’ve been brainwashing and forcing themselves on you?!”

Suddenly you understood why Shouta had leapt up, you had just now caught up with the conversation. Red hot anger flared up in your chest, the mere insinuation that you were being forced in anyway to be with your partners filled you with utter rage.

“No!” You growled, for the first time in your life matching your father’s volume. “For three years they’ve been by my side, showing up at the hospital when I got hurt at work, celebrating my promotions at the agency, helping me make a home that I feel safe in and actually fucking caring about me!”

There was silence again, this one was thin but not light in anyway, like it was a delicate thread barely holding a great weight from falling and crushing you.

“We care for you.” You mother said darkly.

“No,” you swallowed hard, “you haven’t for a long time.”

“Get out.” You father growled.

Hizashi was already moving, grabbing your coats from the back of the chairs and pulling Shouta by the arm away from the table. It took you a good long second to move, even then it was because Shouta latched onto your shoulders and Hizashi tugged him along.

“I’m sorry.” Shouta whispered, his hand finding yours in your lap. You kept your eyes focused out the window at the pitch-black fields with barely visible for off golden dots of light. You couldn’t talk.

You heard Hizashi shuffling around in the back seat, scooting closer to you and his hand joined Shouta’s, pulling up onto the storage compartment between the seats. It was cracking, that veneer.

“It’s not your fault.” Hizashi murmured.

You sniffed hard, biting int you bottom lip. Of course, it wasn’t your fault that your parents didn’t accept you, that you weren’t good enough or right for them, that you weren’t on par with the apparent morality of the rest of the family. It wasn’t your fault that they were backwards people with terrible ideas of how a person should be. It still didn’t hurt any less that you couldn’t meet those backwards ideals, that you couldn’t be the right kind of person for them.

“Y/n,” Shouta whispered, gently grabbing your chin and turning your face towards them.

They were looking at you the way a mother looks at her crying baby in the first few months, the desperate need to connect and nurture glowing in their eyes. They were filled with worry, with pity, with understanding but also, with fear. No doubt, what had just happened had been traumatic for them too. Looking into their emotion filled eyes you felt that veneer shatter, falling away and unleashing that mournful sobbing that had been trapped inside.

Shouta pulled you towards him, holding you firmly to his chest placing his head atop yours. You vaguely felt Hizashi disappear from you for a moment, but you were too preoccupied with the trembling muscles seizing violently in your chest. Then you felt him sliding in behind you, only now realizing he’d stepped out of the car and slide in through your door as he shut it behind him. He draped himself over you rubbing circles into your back.

“It’s not your fault.” He murmured into your hair over and over again.

At first you didn’t really focus on it, thinking it idle words of comfort but the more he said the more it sunk in. The more your realized that you were holding onto the hope that there was something about this, about you, that you could fix. With every repetition of those four words that false hope chipped away and that heavy weight in your chest began to fall away. It was still painful, it still felt like you had a pen festering wound that you’d never fully heal from, but it also felt lighter. It felt as though a burden you’d believed was yours to bear was suddenly the responsibility of the many.

“You don’t have to change,” Shouta whispered softly as your sobs ebbed into weak beaths, “they do.”

That reignited some tears, to hear what you needed to said so plainly. Shouta was good at that, putting those intangible thoughts and feelings into plain words. You cried until the tears and the worry and the late hour caught up with you, until your head felt heavy and waterlogged and you slumped backwards into Hizashi sniffing. You cried until your wavering breaths evened out and your tired mind fell to silence. Hizashi pulled you into his lap and cradled you against him like a parent holding and oversized child, running his hand slowly through your hair.

When you awoke you were swaddled thoroughly with the fuzzy blanket from the couch Shouta hated because it shed and sandwiched between the two men who snored away. As you blinked in the early morning light that just barely peaked through the blinds you noticed the red rims around Hizashi’s eyes and deep-set circles under Shouta’s as if they both been awake all night. Shouta was still in his dress shirt and Hizashi had stripped down to his boxers and pulled his hair back into a sloppy bun. Neither were properly snoring which told they hadn’t been asleep for very long.

You tried to ignore what had happened last night, what had led to the heavy feeling in your head and crusty dry eyes and tight cheeks. You tried to pretend that they had stayed up for work, that they you had swaddled yourself up in the blanket nor because you were sad but because you just wanted to be cozy. Then you heard a phone vibrate on the nightstand and any and all work towards denial washed away as you dreaded checking it. It could just be a work thing, it could be Hizashi’s phone even though he’d never had it on silent even once since you’ve known him. It could have been Shouta’s vibrating against the wooden table even though you could see his slightly peeking out of his back pocket.

You sighed and sat up, daring the smallest of glances at the nightstand. It was your phone screen that was lit up, several notifications on the screen. You groaned and laid back down, scrunching your eyes shut begging for sleep to suddenly and miraculously take you. It buzzed again and you huffed. Fine. You’ll check it. I guess someone could be dying. I do stop that from happening for a living.

You very cautiously crawled over Hizashi and reached to get your phone, electing not to look at it until you settled back between your boys. You scrolled though your notifications, weather, news, a work email, a second email from a contact that made your blood run cold and three missed calls and two answering machine messages from the same contact. Grandma. Your hands trembled at you unlocked your phone and typed int your voicemail password. You held the phone up to you ear and listen to the first message which was more or less just some frustrated grandma noises and mumbles about the inconvenience of technology, followed briefly by a set of hellos. If you hadn’t been ready to shit yourself, you’d have laughed. Then the second played and you had to take a deep breath to hold yourself together enough to keep listening.

“Hello? Hello? Y/n? Oh shi- well this is just ridiculous. Y/n, I don’t know if you can hear me, or maybe this is your answering machine, I don’t know I can’t hear too well but-” her soft worn voice said into the phone, “I want you to know that I love you. Your parents love you too, even if they did not act like it tonight.”

She paused and your eyes welled up with tears, a lump forming in your throat. It was this strange feeling of pure sadness but also happiness and relief.

“Those boys,” she continued, “probably would have killed your father last night if they had the chance. I’m not saying I get it, but they sure do love you, sweetheart. I quite like the blond one he is very-”

The message cut off and the automated voice asked you what you wanted to do with the message. All you could do was laugh, laugh and cry. You were still sad, still in pain, but it was already starting to feel less life-ending.

“Hey,” Shouta mumbled blearily, “S’okay. I’m here.”

He wrapped an arm around you and pulled you close, trying to pull himself from sleep. You hugged him back and massaged the back of his scalp gently.

“Listen to this.” You sniffed.

He nodded and you pressed repeat, listening to the whole second message through again. You watched as a smile spread across his sleepy lips and he laughed softly. He pouted suddenly when it ended, his eyebrows pulling together as much as his drowsy state would let them.

“What?” you asked, worried he’d heard something you‘d missed.

“Why does she like Zash more?” he grumbled, barely awake now.

You smiled and curled into him, electing not to answer knowing that he wouldn’t like being told that Hizashi is more sociable than him. Besides, you smiled to yourself, he’d be asleep in a matter of seconds.

You were still hurt; you still had that big open wound in your chest. But with Shouta and Hizashi at your side you knew you’d heal; you knew they’d give you anything you needed. You knew that your grandmother was right, that these two boys loved you very much.

#polyerasermic #eraserhead #erasermic #erasermic x reader #present mic #present mic x reader #present mic x aizawa #eraserhead x reader x present mic #eraserhead x reader #reader insert #bnha #mha #myhero #my hero academia #my hero fanfic #bnha fanfiction #y/n x mha #y/n x bnha

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lululawrence · 3 years ago

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Polyamory Fic Rec

I thought I’d made one already, but apparently I hadn’t. So, since @twopoppies had an anon looking for more, I figured I’d go ahead and make a rec list now. This is not exhaustive, but it’s a start!

Please remember to leave the authors kudos and nice comments to show appreciation for their work.

I Should've Known by @nikogda (Liam/Louis/Harry, 11k)

It started out with little things here and there. A light that needed replacing. The belt in the vacuum. Small things, and eventually they took advantage of it.

Louis decided they needed another, larger repair whilst talking with his alpha neighbour, Liam. Liam had said he would do it for Louis and his partner, Harry.

And, well, it sort of went a little off track from there. What was an innocent thing at first, was now the two omegas’ way of catching the sweet deep scent of their alpha neighbour one whom they both mutually crushed.

Or: the one where alpha Liam moves in next door to bonded omegas Louis and Harry. All three go on their own journeys but in the end find that maybe, in the end, it really was always each other.

And That Was That by @lightwoodsmagic (Zayn/Liam/Harry/Louis, 23k)

“Okay. When Zayn and I were working on the set yesterday, Liam dropped by and mentioned he had a date. I asked Zayn about it, and he said that they’re ah - poly?”

Harry blinked.

“Oh yeah, I knew that. Li mentioned it when we were playing tennis once.” He ran his hand through Louis’ hair, smiling softly when he nuzzled into the touch.

“Is that what’s making you act strange? Because it seems like something that works for them, and I —.”

“Zayn has feelings for me.” A deep breath, and then blue eyes locked on green. “He said he needs distance because he has to get over them.”

Harry hadn’t realised his hand had fallen from Louis’ face until his fingers were being tangled and gripped tightly.

Or, Zayn and Liam have been polyamorous for years, but Harry and Louis are monogamous. When Zayn meets Louis and starts to fall for him, it opens them all up for something they've never experienced before.

That Don't Define Who You Are by lululawrence (Nick/Harry/Louis, 7k)

“Shit,” Harry muttered, rushing towards the man. “Are you alright?”

The man clearly tried to muffle his scream. “No, I’m really not. I’m afraid you’ll need to call 999.”

When Harry reached the man, he saw the man’s leg had gotten caught by pieces of the bike that had come apart beneath him. Without thinking, Harry leaned down and lapped where the blood was flowing quickly until it slowed.

“I’m so sorry, I just didn’t want you to pass out whilst I was on the phone.”

“God, no, don’t apologise,” the man said. “My mum’s a licking omega, see. Quite soothing.”

Harry blushed. “Yeah. Let me see about an ambulance for you.”

Or the one where Harry is a licking omega with a broken bond who helps heal a fairly hapless beta with a folding bicycle. When Harry also meets the beta's alpha, things start to get... interesting.

Its Mutual We (All) Discussed It by @nikogda (Zayn/Harry/Louis, 29k)

“Well you go to the agency, Alpha Donor Services and fill some forms out, whoever is doing the deed gets tested and such. And then they match you based on the papers with a few Alphas. You read the information on them and pick a few, they make sure they’re still willing and tell them about you. Eventually you guys will meet in public, do that a few times until you’re comfortable.” Niall scratched his arm lightly, and glances over at Harry, “The point of the service is to help a family, mostly an omega one, who can’t have children of their own. An Alpha will help an Omega get pregnant.”

“I feel like this is a lot.” Harry mumbles, setting his mug down.

“It is. Or well it was but it was worth it, H. I mean, I would do this again. We already talked about it.”

“Really?”

Or: Two omegas in a committed relationship are ready to start a family. In the process, their alpha donor becomes part of the family too. Every part of their relationship may be unconventional but all of them have never been happier

old haunts are for forgotten ghosts by fortymaliks (Nick/Harry/Louis, 8k)

“It’s the three of us, now,” Harry says, finally.

Louis blinks.

“Like,” Harry rushes to clarify, “you, and me, and Nick.”

Louis wakes up with amnesia, and learns that he's missing two whole years of his life. Two whole years, and some interesting developments...

Orion's Belt by @londonfoginacup (Nick/Harry/Louis, 24k)

Louis and Nick have been in a happy committed relationship for two years, their matching soulmarks on display for the world to see. It’s been them against the world, the alpha/beta singer and radio DJ power duo.

All that changes on February 1st, when they wake up to a third matching soulmark.

As they say, the course of true love never did run smooth.

You're a Rabbit, Louis Series by @magicalrocketships (Nick/Harry/Louis, 16k)

"Maybe Louis turned into a rabbit," Nick suggests. They both laugh. Louis doesn't. Harry is an idiot and Nick is an even bigger one.

Louis stomps past both of them on four tiny, furry, baby rabbit paws, and into Nick's flat. "I hate you both," he says. He sits on the rug by the TV. "And you can stop following me around too," he says to Pig, who sits down next to him on the rug.

"But seriously," Harry says, from the door. "Where's Louis?"

Louis thumps his back leg on the floor. "I'm here, you idiot."

"I'm not really suggesting this could be true," Nick says carefully, "but are we sure he isn't a tiny baby rabbit?"

The "A" in "Normal" by Yesitstyles (Nick/Harry/Louis, 28k)

Louis eats chips, argues with his best friend Nick about the validity of various sexualities, and falls for a second crush. Harry tries to spell the word "normal".

Loving You's the Antidote by lululawrence (Nick/Harry/Louis, 11k)

Nick and Harry had never been an obvious match. When eighteen-year-old Harry, newly presented as an omega, came home freshly bonded to Nick, a man nine years his elder and a beta no less, Anne had been more than skeptical and Eileen had shared some harsh words of her own. That didn’t deter them, though, and their families soon realised there really was something special about the bondmates that allowed them to work together almost seamlessly.

It was only a few months later that Harry started getting sick.

Or the one where Harry and Nick have been able to keep Harry's disorder at bay over the course of their relationship, but when they move to London and away from their support system, they find themselves in desperate need of help.

Come Out and Play by @dinosaursmate (Combination of OT5 pairings, 30k)

“I have this… fantasy.” Louis smiled self-consciously. “Well, I- I’ve been thinking about it recently, you know?”

Harry smiled softly. “Say it, Lou.”

“I have this fantasy,” he repeated. “Of… all five of us.”

“All five of us,” Harry exclaimed. “Gosh.”

Louis buried his face into Harry’s armpit, and Harry giggled softly. --- Harry and Louis discover a new kink in their relationship, and it brings all the boys closer than they could have ever imagined.

Trinity's Fate by Anonymous (Nick/Harry/Louis, 43k)

When a person is sixteen years old, he or she finds out if they are a dom or a sub. Later when they turn eighteen, the name of their soulmate(s) appear somewhere on their body.

Louis Tomlinson, a sub, fears getting a dom more than anything.

When his eighteenth birthday approaches and the names Nicholas Grimshaw and Harry Styles, a well known dom couple who are DJs for BBC Radio 1, appear on his arms, Louis panics.

Let me be your good night by Conscious_ramblings (Nick/Greg/Harry/Louis, 8k)

The one where Harry and Louis are in love, they end up at a party with some friends, and end up discovering things about themselves, and their friends that could change everything.

The thing was, Harry and Louis weren’t poly. They’d never even played with others together, despite having talked about it quite a lot in the heat of arousal. When they had been at torture garden and antichrist they had flirted with the idea. Harry had even kissed a friend of theirs once to rile Louis up, which had lead to a great session on the Saint Andrew’s cross. Louis loved to watch Harry flirt, loved the way jealousy turned him on and riled him up, loved how pliant and submissive Harry could be when Louis claimed him after. But they definitely weren’t poly, and Louis wasn’t quite sure what that meant for this evening. Everyone else attending the party was, and Louis’ green-eyed-monster had been feeding off that fact for most of the bus ride here. Now he was confronted by a really hot man playing with his boyfriend’s hair like it was no big deal, and he didn’t know quite what to do.

Perfect Sky by @polkadotlou (Nick/Harry/Louis, 40k)

Sub pairs are a rare thing, not only because of the jealousy that can brew between submissives if a Dom isn't attentive to each.

A sub pair has to be balanced.

Harry and Louis have always fit each other without trying. With them, it's easy.

But sub pairs can't just go out in the world and live on their own.

Alternatively, Louis always knew that a Dom was going to come into his and Harry’s lives – he only wishes Nick picked him too.

The Only Thing That Keeps Me Grounded by lululawrence (Nick/Harry/Louis, 28k)

“Shit, I definitely missed the last train.”

“Oh no,” Louis lamented. “I’d offer a ride, but I’m part of a carpool and we’re full already. I’m so sorry.”

“Really, it’s fine.” Then, what Louis said sank in. “Wait, I thought you were here alone?”

“Oh, I am. I’m the only one dancing here tonight. The others were working. In fact, here’s Nick now.”

It felt like slow motion as a tall, lanky man with incredible hair came walking over towards Louis. He smiled before pulling Louis into him and giving him a quick kiss.

“Nick, this is my new friend Harry. He just moved to the area and he’s amazing at swing. Harry, this is my husband, Nick.”

Fuck.

Or the one where Harry moves to Washington DC to be a nanny and never expects that his past struggles with love will be brought to a head. He definitely never expects the solution to it all will be the man of his dreams that just so happens to be married to the other man of his dreams.

Tell Me It’s The Strongest Shape by @louandhazaf (Nick/Elgar/Louis, 73k)

Nick and Elgar have it all. They’re famous, successful, and engaged to be married—and sometimes they play with others.

When uni student Louis gets street cast by Elgar for a GQ photoshoot, he's drawn into Nick and Elgar’s complicated relationship.

They've always invited mates into their bed. It doesn’t ever mean anything. Until… it does.

it hurts, but it's worth it by words_unravel (Liam/Harry/Louis, 14k)

Liam finds the shots of the three of them, rolling around and laughing, a week or so later during a late night. After a moment's pause, she saves one of the photos, giving it some inane, boring name. She shuts down her computer after that and goes to bed.

It takes a long time before she falls asleep.

#mine #poly fic rec #my fic rec #fic rec #i love poly fics so much #i thought i had made one of these already????#i was surprised to find i hadn't #so anyway #this is a good start

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jodfics · 4 years ago

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Baby Makes Four - Part 4

Steve Rogers x Reader x Bucky Barnes

Timeline: None / A little AU

Rating: SFW

Prompt: Polyamourus Relationships are great. At least until there’s one too many.

A/N: This one is a little more Bucky-centric. He’s really not sure about this whole baby thing

Warning: Bucky’s anxious

MasterList | << Part 3 | Part 5 >>

"We'll hopefully figure out how far along you are today," the nurse said as she warmed up the ultrasound, glancing at the two brick walls masquerading as handsome men on Y/N's right. "So, uh..." She began carefully, "Like, one of you the dad and one of you a relative? Or like one of you just supporting your friends?"

Y/N glared at the two men, ensuring no sarcastic comments were made to the poor woman stuck in a room with Captain America and Sgt. Barnes, previously The Winter Soldier. Bucky's head tilted just slightly as he bit down his remark and behaved. He didn't particularly like hospitals. This was the 'Field Hospital' for their current Mission Agency because SHIELD was out of the question now, but Bucky still felt sick to his stomach being there.

"I think it's common knowledge that we're in a polyamorous relationship," Steve told the nurse gently. He didn't recognise her, but it wasn't like the Agency hired just anyone and threw them into work. He also didn't tend to need a medical professional on pregnancy. However, he was on a first-name basis with the trauma team. "You can just ask; we don't mind." Feeling that that point of awkwardness was now out of the way, the blonde looked at the blank screen expectantly, "Can we get pictures? To take home, I mean?"

The nurse nodded and smiled at them sheepishly, "Sorry, it's my first threesome."

A snort interrupted her, and she supposed she had set herself up for that, "That's what Y/N said..."

"Bucky," Steve warned.

Bucky cleared his throat, trying to look serious and composed as he leaned against the railing of the bed. With his nod, the nurse continued and flipped on the screen, "But, yes," she continued, "I can print your pictures, Captain."

The first scan was to check the health of mother and baby; it usually wouldn't be too exciting as the fetus would be too small or just a tiny sac. As the black and white image came up, the nurse let out a little 'oh' as legs and arms were visible. "You're about ten weeks, at a guess." Not noticing the near silence of the room, she went about making notes and adjusting the equipment so that the baby's heartbeat could be heard. "That's a solid heartbeat too."

With no one saying anything, she turned to look at them. All three, stunned into silence as they stared at the image. She watched as Steve grinned from ear to ear, and Y/N grabbed his hand blindly, her breath hitching visibly in her chest and her eyes misty. "I guess you weren't expecting to see something so 'baby-like', right?" She then noticed that Bucky's face was completely blank and tried to include him; some new parents could have trouble processing a scan. "Your baby is about the size of a strawberry." It only earned her a slight nod.

Y/N finally spoke up, her voice a little tight when she finally took her eyes off the screen, "Everything looks normal, right? Not too small or too big or - Isn't the heart a little fast?"

"Not at all." The nurse tried to reassure her, "It's in perfect range, and everything looks fine." Now she had to approach the other elephant in the room; carefully, she picked up a clipboard and tapped it lightly with her pen. "If you're worried about 'serum' related issues, then I can't answer that. We have no previous experience with Super Soldiers making babies; I can take a paternity test, giving us some clues later. It's a little invasive, a needle and a very low risk of-"

"No offence," Bucky spoke up suddenly, "We don't care who the father is. It's our," he gestured to the three of them before crossing his arms over his chest, "baby. And I'm not about to let you shove a needle into my girls."

"Easy, Buck. She's just doing her job." Steve's hand reach out to squeeze the other's shoulder, knowing he hated the room and the stink of disinfectant and the equipment and the talk of needles. "Also," his pale eyebrow rose, "'Girls'?"

"I meant -" A blush crept up onto his cheeks, "Shut up, Steve." Bucky pushed all of the air from his lungs before taking a short breath in; he leaned in to kiss Y/N's head and murmured that he had to get out of there.

Y/N nodded, a little disappointed, but she understood why he needed to go. "Bucky's right. This is our baby and knowing who the biological father is, isn't on our list of things to do. If there's an actual medical emergency that it's needed for, we can discuss it then."

The appointment didn't take long after that, mostly advice and thousands of questions Steve had prepared in a notebook. Eventually, they reunited with the brunette who was leaning on the driver side of the car, playing with the keys until his lover leaned up and kissed his cheek. Her palm rubbed along his arm to let him know everything was okay. They got into the car, Bucky and Steve in the front and Y/N taking the seat behind Steve on the passenger side. They drove in silence for almost five minutes when her stomach interrupted with a rumble, "Is it too early for me to be craving certain things?" Y/N laughed, "Like dessert in the middle of the day?"

Bucky was already turning the car into another lane, heading for downtown rather than home, "Craving has to be something you don't do as a habit, Doll." Y/N often coerced them into taking her to the dessert restaurant at least monthly, and the staff knew their orders by now.

It became quiet again, the atmosphere a little off. Steve's fingers tapped on his thigh to an invisible beat; he didn't usually fidget, not unless he had something to say and wouldn't. She could see Bucky's jaw tensing from her position behind Steve, and she managed to catch his steely blues in the rearview mirror. He sighed and broke the silence, "It's about the serum. I shouldn't have said anything about the paternity test, and what if you drew the short straw, and she gets my fucked up DNA? I mean, there's no way I'm biologically responsible, but I just - What if something goes wrong, it'll be because of my-"

"Bucky, there's every chance the baby could be yours. Why are you so against that?" Steve's arm twisted around his seat, seeking Y/N's hand instinctively, squeezing her fingers when she caught his hand. They had discussed this when Bucky had gone out the day before - worried he would become anxious after the appointment. They agreed that Steve would handle the talking on this one. "Your serum is no more dangerous than mine. All your issues are a result of what was done to you, not because of your serum. There's nothing in your genetics to worry about."

"I'm not against it – Jesus! The light's green, you asshole!" He hit the horn of the car and glared at the driver in front until they moved forward. He could hear his voice rising and tried to calm himself down; this really wasn't about him. He was ruining everything. With his temper a little more level, he tried to voice his thoughts, "I don't wanna be her dad. I don't wanna be responsible for giving her something bad." Bucky pulled off the road as soon as he could and parked the car in a pick-up bay before turning in his seat and reaching for Y/N; he knew his words would be upsetting for her to hear. He could tell that she was trying to keep her expression neutral for him when she met his eyes dead-on. "Don't get me wrong, Y/N. I want this baby - I just want to be able to point at Steve when she turns out to be allergic to fucking avocados or some shit. I just want her to be healthy – I just don't want to ruin this."

Y/N smiled gently, let go of Steve's hand to cup Bucky's face with both hers; her fingertips rubbed his stubble soothingly, "You won't ruin this." Y/N tried to reassure him. Then she raised her eyebrows at him playfully, "And I know you want this, and I know you care because you keep referring to our baby as 'She or Her'." His eyes darted to the left, and he blushed for the second time that day, "Do you want a baby girl, Bucky?" Without too much hesitation, he nodded once, turned his head to kiss her palm and then slid back into the driver's seat.

Steve smiled fondly at them both and added his own two cents to push away the last of the gloomy cloud threatening their day. "I wanted a dinosaur, to be honest, but I guess a girl would be okay too."

He hated therapy.

Bucky knew it was part of his pardon, but he still detested it. Didn't feel like he was getting anywhere with anything - talking to Steve or Y/N helped because he wasn't a pay packet to them. They had been there when his programming was broken; they watched him ball his eyes out and comforted him. They saw him on his best days and his worst days. Steve knew when he needed to let out some aggression or needed a drink, or just wanted quiet company. Y/N babied him when he needed it; she didn't put up with his selfish, stupid behaviour, and he knew he needed to be in control when he was with her. If he physically lashed out at Steve, the man could handle it. She would break like a twig, or he felt like he would frighten her away.

It was why he never raised his voice outside of a mission when he knew she was around. Y/N didn't see him as dangerous, and that frightened him.

Bucky didn't discuss his relationship or the news of their baby with the therapist. He kept it neutral; he didn't share that he was unsure and so anxious he couldn't sleep some nights.

The man had started getting out of bed to sleep on the couch or sometimes the floor. Bucky figured that Steve knew, but Y/N was yet to find out - what would she say? It was something he was still agonising over as he walked down the street toward his other appointment. Walking down the high street, eyes glancing at the shop windows occasionally, discreetly checking he wasn't being followed out of habit, pausing outside a shop window abruptly. Blue eyes glued to an object on display until someone brushed past him and pulled him from his daze - it would make him late if he bought them, still he was happy to do so.

"Steve!" That was what Bucky heard as he let himself into the apartment; it sounded frustrated and vaguely threatening enough to make him smile to himself. Not even a week after their ten-week scan and the Captain was on thin ice with Y/N. Bucky had left at eleven in the morning to go to his session and then ran his errands; glancing at the clock, he realised it was gone three. It was a miracle the blonde was alive. "It's a basket of laundry, not a filing cabinet! Let me load the damn washing machine."

"I was going to fill it anyway. You haven't sat down all day. Just let me handle this, Honey."

'Honey', Steve's go-to endearment when he was spoiling her or trying to win her over. It had a different effect than 'Babydoll' that he reserved for the bedroom - it sounded like it wasn't working though.

Bucky heard a glass cup hit the counter a little louder than needed, then he heard her muttering - fully aware that Steve would hear every word - "I'm pregnant, not dying." He saw Steve hold his hands up in surrender, not looking the least bit sorry as he jabbed the 'on' button.

Steve glanced in Bucky's direction to greet him with a nod; he looked back at Y/N to continue the conversation and then did a double-take. The blonde's eyebrows hit his hairline and Y/N became curious about his reaction. Walking around the kitchen island to see Bucky in the entranceway. "...Oh." The word was soft and her bare feet pattered quickly on the hardwood floor toward him, "Oh my god." Her hands combed straight into the short tufts of chestnut hair on his head. "You cut it. You actually cut it all off? I - You - Oh wow."

Bucky had been talking about a haircut for months. She had thought he meant a trim, but he had meant a little more than that. He licked his lips, waiting for her to get over the initial shock and stop touching it. Only, Y/N seemed fascinated by the new texture and massaged his scalp for good measure. He wasn't able to hide a shy smile behind the long tresses anymore, and Steve was still staring. "I feel kinda naked."

"You should be naked..." Y/N stated before realising she had spoken out loud. "I'm just... wow." Y/N smiled up at him, kissing his lips twice before finally letting his hair out of her hands. He'd always been handsome to her, and now she was able to see him fully - including his nervous expression, "It looks so good, Bucky." Then she noticed the paper bag in his hand and poked it curiously, "What's this?"

"Hmm?" He looked down at it as if he hadn't known he'd carried it all the way home, then pulled it away from her, "It's a surprise. For a time of my choosing." That meant Bucky was planning to squirrel it away until she forgot about it.

Steve picked up the bedding from a pile she had been sorting on the couch and headed for the bedroom whilst she was distracted. Though, she somehow sensed it, "Don't you dare, Rogers! I can make a bed."

"I just want to help." Steve tried to placate her with one of his boyish smiles - losing it as her glare became dangerous.

Y/N's hands found her hips and she huffed, "I know there were pregnant women in the past, and I bet they weren't treated like glass."

Bucky and Steve looked at each other, and Bucky shrugged when she pinned him with the glare she gave Steve just a moment before. "I mean, yeah. My Ma still did all the housework when she was carrying my sisters..." He peeped at the blonde for backup, but the look of betrayal on Steve's face made him scoff, "Well, she did!"

Steve was rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly, "It's just a little extra help." He really had no idea how to make her see that all he wanted to do was look after her. "It's not like I signed you up to every mother and baby magazine within a sixty-mile radius. I'll let you open all the mail Bucky's got coming your way."

"What?!" Bucky stepped back and gaped like a fish out of water, trying to explain that he may have gotten carried away.

Bucky had left on a three-week-long mission a few days after her dressing down of them both. A week later, Steve was sent out on a solo mission that took him four days and returned with a fractured collarbone. Usually, the serum would have broken bones healed in no time, but the initial fracture had been quite a bad break to begin with; it was taking time. Y/N didn't mind taking care of him a little as she was stuck with office work due to her 'condition'.

She would rather be piloting the jets as usual.

Y/N shifted slightly when she heard her phone buzzing by her hip, she had been half asleep, but when she glanced at the caller ID, and Bucky's photo came up, the woman answered quickly. Bucky's face greeted her on the video, and her expression brightened, "Hey, Doll."

"Hey gorgeous," Steve's chest inflated beneath her head, and she stayed still whilst letting the Captain settle and murmur sleepily before he relaxed again. Y/N moved carefully in the crook of his arm, resting the back of her head between his shoulder and chest – careful not to put pressure on his aching bones.

"Shit," Bucky's voice was quieter now, "I forgot it's like two in the morning for you - I can call you ba-"

"Don't go! I miss you…" Her hushed plea made him grin, and he agreed to stay. Staring at the screen, Y/N tried to figure out where he might be, but all she could figure out was that it was a sniper hide. The biggest clue was the rifle he had set up partially out of view. "Steve broke his collarbone; he's taken some heavy-duty painkillers, so if we wake him up, he's gonna fall asleep again."

Bucky's nose scrunched up in sympathy, "Ouch… that one hurts like a bitch. How'd he manage that?"

"Cannonball." Bucky opened his mouth to speak but then closed it as she tried not to laugh, "I have no idea how or why he was hit with one, but this is Steve, and he's kinda dumb." There was a nod of agreement on the screen, "He's healing as expected, but I can tell he's hurting."

"Check my drawer later; there's a green tub full of something that looks like lube. It'll help with the pain." His head tilted to the left swiftly, and Y/N held her breath as she watched him listen, the moment was gone and he smiled back at her image. "Wolves howling in the distance." She let out the held breath, much to his amusement, "Anyway, how are you doing? I miss my girl."

Steve shifted under her again, groaning in discomfort and slowly, his eyes began to blink open, "It's Bucky."

"Mm…kay…" Then his eyes drifted closed once more. His long eyelashes fanned out on his cheeks and his hand came up lazily to wave before Steve was asleep.

The man on the phone waved back despite the lack of consciousness in his friend whilst Y/N stroked Steve's arm beside her head, "I'm Still being sick, still hungry all the time… a little horny." He quirked his eyebrow and she saw him lean forward, realising that his phone was standing somewhere rather than him holding it, "You need to come home soon and help me out."

Bucky's teeth dragged over his bottom lip, eyes darkening at her words, "If I wasn't so far away, Darlin'…."

"What would you do, Sarge." It still felt strange to call him that, but he liked it.

Bucky groaned quietly and grabbed the phone, switching off the video call so that he could speak to her without disturbing Steve's sleep. "Why you gotta do this to me? I can't just tease me like this."

"I asked you a question, soldier."

There was a short silence, then his honeyed tone crept through the speaker and caressed her ears. "You keep that up, little girl, and I'll put you over my knee," he heard her suppress a giggle on the other end of the line, "You think that's funny? When I get home, I'm gonna -"

Y/N's body jumped as gunfire crackled through the phone, "Bucky?!" She sat up, eyes wide as she waited for an answer, "Buck?" Her alarm drew Steve out of his sleep, and she could feel his heat against her back; his voice, thick with sleep, was asking her what had happened, his large hands rubbing up and down her goosbumped arms, "Bucky? Please..."

"I'm here." He could barely be heard, but she let out a relieved sound, "It's kicked off - I'll see you soon, Doll." His rifle went off twice into the receiver, and then he was gone.

Steve took her phone and placed it on the bedside table, "He knows better than to call during a mission." He then flipped on the lamp, rubbing his eyes from sleep to be able to focus on her. Y/N bit into her bottom lip and took hold of his hand when it touched her face, "He's sniping, Y/N. He's not that close to the fighting.

"I know he'll be fine…." Bucky always came home; he said he'd be home soon. "Doesn't make it any easier when one of you is away though." She watched him shift uncomfortably; a wince flitted across his face as he urged her to lay back down. "I didn't mean to wake you up - Bucky said there's something in his drawer that'll help with the pain."

"I've already raided his stuff," Steve wasn't shy about stealing Bucky's things, "You need to sleep more than I do, we're at the end of your first trimester and you need all the rest you can get."

Y/N was compliant for once, laying down despite knowing she wouldn't rest until Bucky rang her to let her know he was safe. She hated when they were away. She hated when they got hurt, and she especially hated waiting for them to come back to her.

What Y/N hated more than anything was when they didn't call her.

Her half-eaten toast barely hit her plate when she heard Bucky return - an annoyed groan telling her it was him. "For Fucks sake, Stevie, would it kill you to use the key dish." He was forever complaining about how Steve left the keys by the side of the dish rather than in it.

"Bucky!" He looked up as he slid his jacket off and barely caught her as the woman threw herself at him.

He laughed as she skidded on the hardwood and held her close, "Did you miss me?"

"I've been waiting for you to get home so I can punch you in your stupid face!" Bucky was three days late from his mission, and she had been anxious for his call that never came; of course, she was thrilled he was home safe and sound. "You didn't call me...." Taking a step back, Y/N examined him; he was clean and looked well-rested. Tactical gear nowhere to be seen and then she noticed he smelled like... "Were you in Wakanda?" He smelt like the flora he had told her grew in one of the border villages when she had asked him once. He opened his mouth to answer her, but she was quick to punch him in the shoulder angrily, "You were in Wakanda! Safe and sound whilst I sat here worried out of my mind! Why didn't you call?!"

He let her scold him, waiting for her to stop and glare before he dared answer, "I should have called, Doll, sorry I made you worry." It was a sheepish apology, and the way his hands trailed down her sides was distracting, though not enough to stop her from asking for more of an explanation. "I got cornered and had to fight my way out. My arm took some damage and I had to get it repaired." Bucky looked around the apartment for Steve, hoping he would help him out; when it was apparent he wasn't there, Bucky knew it was best to be charming. "C'mon, Darlin', don't be mad at me." Pulling her back into his embrace, kissing her forehead, her cheeks, her nose, and finally nuzzling her throat, "I seem to recall you were teasing last time we spoke. That call was getting real interesting."

Y/N wasn't going to fall for half hooded steely blue eyes, perfect lips or seductive whispers, "Not happening." She turned from his embrace and headed back for the kitchen to finish eating, "Steve's gone for a run." Watching Bucky enter the main room, his right hand kneading into his left shoulder, some of her annoyance melted away, and she sighed. "Baby update."

Bucky perked at that and came to her side, his gaze dropping to her belly, then back up to her face, "Is she alright? Did something happen with her?" Had he really worried Y/N that much that he caused a problem with the baby? Bucky's hands fisted on the counter, and his jaw tensed almost painfully as he waited.

"Baby is fine," he eased his body and Y/N handed him a lemon she had been saving for this. Bucky turned the lemon this way and that, confusion evident on his face before tilting his head curiously. "That's how big our strawberry is now."

"Big as a lemon?" The man sat on the stool beside her and cradled the fruit tenderly; he could close his hand around it. It fit in his palm so perfectly that he couldn't help but be a little awed, "Holy cow... she's so tiny." Reaching out, Bucky turned Y/N toward him, his thumbs pushing up her top to expose her stomach to him, "You're so tiny." He was whispering to her belly, head leaning in to press his lips to her skin, thumbs stroking her, "I'm sorry I didn't call your Ma and made her worry. When are you gonna get bigger, huh? I can't wait."

Y/N giggled as his stubble tickled her, "You don't wanna see me get all big."

"I do." Looking up at her, cheek rubbing into her stomach, Bucky sighed, "I wanna see you round... I imagined it on the way home, and - God, Y/N, I wanna see you getting bigger as she grows." His words were meant to be sweet, he wanted her to know he was looking forward to it, but at the same time, he felt suddenly needy. Something deep and primal clawing at him - he wanted to feel like it was his fault that her body would change to accommodate their baby. "Shit." The man groaned and pressed his forehead to her, the tips of his ears going red, "I'm one of those guys."

Her fingers carded through his hair, smirking at his embarrassed whine, "Bucky Barnes has a bump fetish. This is better than watching Steve try out baby food and gagging."

"I really gotta stop leaving all the stupid behind for him."

#Bucky Barnes #Steve Rogers #James Buchanan Barnes #Steven Grant Rogers #Marvel #Reader x #BM4 - 4 #Original Post

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invisibleraven · 3 years ago

Text

And so the feeling grows

Pairing: Julie/Luke/Reggie

Rating: T

‘But for now let me say, without hope or agenda, Just because it’s Christmas- (and at Christmas you tell the truth) to me, you both are perfect’

A Rukebox Love Actually AU!

On AO3!

So, little known fact about Bethany; one of her favourite holiday movies is Love Actually. I watch it every year without fail, and while I know parts of it haven't aged well, I still love it so.

But the part that everyone knows? The scene where Mark uses the signs to confess his love for Juliet? I've always had a problem with that, given the whole... infidelity aspect. So I decided to fix it by making it polyamorous! And what better throuple than my OT3 to do that with?

So this is me, fixing the Mark/Juliet/Peter storyline and making it Rukebox. Enjoy, and I hope you are having a safe, fun, and loving holiday season. Remember that likes and reblogs make excellent Christmas presents!

Three weeks until Christmas

Cheers went up as Luke and Julie entered the hall where their engagement party was being held, their hands clasped tight together, smiles bright on their faces. Reggie trained his camera on them, trying to capture every moment, how happy they were together, how beautiful a couple they made. He sighed, taking them both in, then shook himself, training the camera on the happy couple once more, only putting it down once Luke approached him.

“Reggie! Dude this looks incredible, thank you so much for planning this party!”

“Least I could do as your best man.”

“And you resisted the urge for surprises?” Luke asked.

Reggie scoffed, “Of course, I’m grown up now, I’m mature.”

“Unlike Alex’s stag night.”

“Unlike then, yes,” Reggie conceded. “I mean, the strippers were nice at least.”

“I think Alex would have appreciated them more if they were men.” They shared a glance and burst out laughing, recalling Alex’s face when the scantily clad women had approached him offering him a dance. A quick call to the agency had some Hot Cops arriving moments later, but the girls had stuck around and had turned out to be big Sunset Curve fans, so it all worked out in the end.

“Sorry Reggie, can I steal away my fiancé? I have some relatives I want him to meet,” Julie asked as she came alongside them. Reggie gave her a taciturn nod, shaking himself as they walked away, going off to find the buffet table, given the appetizers the catering staff were circulating did not look appealing in the least.

Later, Reggie sat, filming the dancing, watching Luke twirl Julie around the dance floor, their smiles radiant, the lights catching on the diamond adorning Julie’s finger.

“Do you love him?”

Reggie whirled to the side, seeing Julie’s friend Carrie sitting there, an expectant look on her face. He quickly shut off the camera and stammered “What?”

“I just thought I’d ask the blunt question, in case it was the right one and you needed someone to talk to about it and no one had ever asked you about it so you’ve never been able to talk about it even if you wanted to,” Carrie said without stopping for a breath.

“No… No. No is the answer. Absolutely not,” Reggie said, though he was sure the blush on his face may be giving him away.

“So that’s a no then,” Carrie said, crossing her arms and shooting him a disbelieving look, but rolled her eyes when he nodded. “Okay then.”

“So what do you think of this DJ then? Worst in history?” Reggie asked as the Bay City Rollers came to an end.

“Oh probably, though I think it all hangs on this next song.” When the strains of Puppy Love started they both let out a groan.

“That’s it, he’s done it,” Reggie stated.

“Worst DJ in the world. I’m surprised though, Luke is so into music, how did this even happen?” Carrie asked.

“Well the guy I had hired cancelled at the last minute, and apparently this was the only replacement they had. Next time maybe I should just ask Dirty Candy to perform,” Reggie said.

“You couldn’t afford us,” Carrie said, getting up and flicking her hair over her shoulder as she walked away.

The night was drawing to a close, and the happy couple were making the rounds to say goodbye when Reggie gave the signal to Alex, who grinned with a thumbs up. The first strains of La Marseillaise played, Luke and Julie looking around confused until Alex started singing ‘All You Need Is Love’. Luke turned and looked at Reggie, who was filming innocently, and gave him a huge smile. Julie clutched onto Luke, beaming as all of their friends and family started singing, until the song was over.

Luke rushed over to Reggie, enveloping him in a hug “I’m so glad you didn’t resist one surprise, thanks man.”

“One more surprise left actually.” Reggie motioned them to the marina they were adjacent to where a small boat was waiting, bedecked with lights and a romantic picnic was waiting. “The captain is on board and will take you around the bay, you have the boat for the night. Enjoy.”

Luke hugged Reggie again, pressing a sloppy bro kiss to his cheek, and started tugging Julie towards the ship. She waved at Reggie as he filmed them leaving, their thanks still ringing in his ears as they pulled away from the docks. Reggie finally turned the camera off as the lights faded from view, and sighed before turning back to the party.

Two weeks until Christmas

Reggie knew he wasn’t supposed to be on his phone while he was at work, but the gallery was empty aside from the few school girls who liked to giggle at the nudes on their lunch break, so he figured it was okay. He and Luke had been catching up, and planning their next gig, though their day jobs had kept them from getting any new songs written lately. “How about Thursday at my place?” Reggie proposed. He walked past the gaggle of teenagers and shook his head, quietly saying to them “You know they’re not funny, they’re art.” Unfortunately that just set the girls off in a massive peal of laughter once more.

“Thursday sounds good, I’ll double check with Alex, but I think he said he was free all week. Okay, I gotta go. But Reg? Julie wants you to call her, can you do that please? And be nice,” Luke said.

“I’m always nice.”

“You know what I mean Reggie, be friendly.”

With that Luke ended the call and Reggie grimaced at the phone. Okay, so he wasn’t the warmest towards Julie, he knew that. But he had hoped that Luke would never really notice. He wasn’t mean, or rude, and he had his reasons, but obviously he needed to do a better job of playing the best friend when it came to the girl said friend was going to marry. He dialled Julie’s number and waited for her to pick up.

“Reggie?”

“Julie, hi. Luke said you wanted to talk to me?”

“Yes I did! First I wanted to thank you for the amazing engagement party, and that gorgeous send off! It was so romantic, I can’t thank you enough. But I did want to ask you a little favour.”

“Sure.”

“Well I noticed you filming a lot during the night, and I wondered if I could have a copy of the footage. It was just such a special moment and I’d love to have the video.”

“Oh, I um, didn’t get that much really, and I’m no professional.”

“Please Reggie, I would really appreciate it,” Julie pleaded.

“I-I’ll see what I can do, I think the file might be corrupted, Listen I have to go, bye.” Reggie ended the call and leaned down, hands on his knees as he started breathing heavily. He knew what the video looked like, he had watched it often enough, and there was no way in hell he would ever let Julie Molina see a second of it.

One week until Christmas

A few days later, Reggie was kicking back with a bowl of ice cream, and enjoying the latest Christmas hit by some aging rock star or another when his doorbell rang. He scowled a little, he had been hoping for a quiet night in, but the fates had seen fit to interrupt his lazing. He was sure it was someone collecting for charity and prepared his speech for turning them away, but when he opened his door, there stood Julie.

“Butterscotch pie?” She offered, holding up a serving box, a towering pile of meringue atop the slice.

Reggie was sure his nose crinkled up at the thought, but she was marrying Luke, so of course she would have equally terrible taste in sweets.

“Um, no. No thank you.”

“Thank goodness, I would have cried if you said yes, I had to go all the way to Pasadena for this.” Julie smiled brightly and barged in, setting down the pie and turning to face him. “I was wondering if you still had the file of our engagement party video? I was hoping I could trade it for some pie, or something.”

“Oh um, I hadn’t really looked, it’s been a bit hectic,” Reggie stammered.

“Reggie, can I say something?” Reggie gave a nod, shoving his hands into his pockets. “Look, I know you and Luke have been friends since you were kids, and I know you’ve never really warmed up to me.” When he looked like he was about to protest, Julie held up a hand “Don’t argue, we’ve never really been friendly. But I hope that can change. I’m nice, I really am, in spite of my terrible taste in pie, and I would really like it if we could be friends.”

“Ab-absolutely. But I still don’t think I have the video, I think it got corrupted and I deleted it,” Reggie stated. Julie traipsed through the room before she sat at his desk, spinning in his chair before she looked at the desktop.

“So it’s not this file labelled Jukebox engagement… wait Jukebox?” she questioned, eyebrow quirked.

“Julie plus Luke equals Juke, and well, you both like music and sing so much… Jukebox. It just seemed fitting,” Reggie replied, rubbing the back of his head as his face tinged pink. "Alex came up with it."

Julie shot him a disbelieving look at that, knowing Alex's hatred for couple names, but didn't question it, just turning back to the screen. “That’s adorable. But can I please have a look?” Julie’s lips formed a pout, and her eyes pleaded, causing Reggie to sigh and nod.

“You know I’m not your dad right? It’s only amateur footage.”

“Reggie, my dad has seen and praised your work for ages now, and you know it. Your work gets shown right alongside his at galleries. You are so talented, and even if it is amateur footage, it’s still going to show one of the happiest nights of my life so far, and that’s worth it to me,” Julie said, resolute, and opened the file. Reggie couldn’t bear to watch, turning away as she made a little gasp of happiness. “Oh this is perfect, thank you so much Reggie!”

“Oh, I look quite pretty,” Julie stated, and Reggie had to bite his lip, finally turning so he saw the screen, filled with her; her smile, her hair, her dress. “You stayed rather close, didn’t you?” she joked as frame after frame was her. Then her face slowly fell as she kept watching. “They’re all of me.”

“Yeah… yeah… yes.” Julie watched herself be taken away by the boat, waving at the camera with a jubilant smile on her face, then turned to see a crestfallen Reggie.

“But… you never talk to me. You always talk to Luke, you don’t like me!”

Reggie’s eyes were watery as he sniffled. “I hope it’s useful. I wouldn’t show it around too much.” He began to walk away, towards the door. “I have to… go. You can show yourself out.” He stopped, then turned back to her once more. “It’s a self preservation thing, you see.” With that, Reggie grabbed his jacket, and left through the door.

Julie sat there, too shell shocked to chase after him, and turned back to the screen. All this time? But then she saw it, the Jukebox engagement Part 2 file, and with trepidation, opened it up… and the screen was filled with Luke. Luke's smile, Luke's arms, Luke, Luke, Luke. “Oh god,” she whispered. She got up, and raced out of the apartment, the file still playing on the computer, her pie forgotten on the counter.

Reggie was miles away, cursing himself for being so foolish, for not deleting the file, for ever letting his traitorous heart lead him towards yet another unattainable love. He had almost gone back so many times, but then again, he had also almost confessed his love to Luke so many times as well over the past fifteen years, and look where all that almost had gotten him? It was hopeless, to be so in love with two gorgeous, wonderful people, knowing that his heart would still yearn, even if neither of them spoke to him after today. He was sure Julie was running off to tell Luke what a creep his best friend was, perving after her or something from the moment they met. He figured he could kiss his friendship with Luke goodbye, his place in the band. Why… why did he have to go and fall in love with Julie of all people? The love for Luke he could deal with, suffer in silence, but this? Now that it was out, he knew it would ruin him. Reggie squared his shoulders before letting them sag, and dragged himself off to wallow in misery, and maybe drown his sorrows in a few festive drinks.

Christmas Eve

Julie and Luke were curled up on the couch with a cheesy Hallmark holiday movie playing, Luke grumbling a little over having to watch it, but content enough with Julie in his arms. Even if the both of them still felt like there was something… someone missing. Their conversations the past week had ranged on one sole topic, and while now they knew what they wanted, and how to handle the difficult conversations to come, the person they most needed to talk to was avoiding them. They resolved to let him come to them, lest they scare Reggie away, but Luke had also said if they hadn’t heard from him by New Year’s they were tracking him down. Suddenly the sound of the doorbell rang through their home and with a glance between them, Julie got up.

“I’ll be right back and then we are going to finish the movie,” she stated as she traipsed off towards the door. Luke rolled his eyes good-naturedly, but also paused the movie before picking up his phone to scroll through his social media.

Julie had fully expected there to be someone collecting for charity at the door, given it was Christmas, and hoped she would be able to send them on their way quickly. However, when she opened the door, there stood Reggie. As she opened her mouth to greet him, he held a finger to his lips, then held up a sign.

‘Say it’s carollers’

Luke called out “Who is it?”

Julie looked at Reggie, his pleading expression, and gave him a minute nod. “It’s carollers.”

“Give them some money and tell them to go home out of it, it’s cold enough to freeze your Winnebago!” Luke called, and then Julie heard the sounds of loud metal sounding Christmas music coming from the television as Reggie pulled out a small speaker, playing a plaintive Christmas song. He then straightened up, and started flipping through his signs.

‘With any luck, by next year,

I’ll be going out with one of these people’

The next sign had an array of attractive celebrities, both male and female, and Julie stifled a giggle. Especially since most of the guys were scruffy musicians and all the women seemed to be Latina or black. Apparently Reggie had a type. He flipped to the next sign,

‘But for now let me say,

without hope or agenda,

Just because it’s Christmas-

(and at Christmas you tell the truth)

to me, you both are perfect’

At this, Julie sucked in a gasp, and Reggie’s eyes were so full of love that she had to grasp at the door frame. She wanted to call for Luke, so he could witness this gorgeous, heartfelt display, but she felt that if she uttered a word, Reggie would leave, and they would never figure this out. Though the sob that tore out of her throat at the next few signs couldn’t be held back.

‘And my wasted heart will love you-

both of you

Until we’re all dust and our ghosts haunt the Earth

Merry Christmas’

“Merry Christmas,” Julie whispered back, as Reggie dropped the sign to reveal he was done. He gave her a weak double thumbs up, and then gathered his signs, his speaker going into his pocket just as the song ended, and with one longing look at Julie, began to walk away. He thought he heard her call out, but he resolved to keep moving.

“Enough, enough now,” he promised himself, breathing out lightly, a cloud of steam escaping as the temperatures dropped.

“Reggie!”

Reggie squeezed his eyes shut, because that wasn’t Julie, it was Luke calling his name, and he had been dreading this moment for so long, knowing it was the death knell for his friendships. He wanted to keep walking, to keep avoiding the inevitable, but he knew he owed Luke the chance to slug him, or demand an explanation, so he turned. Only instead of finding Luke looking steaming mad, he found Luke and Julie smiling as they caught up to him.

“Reggie…” Luke started, but then thought better of it before grasping Reggie’s cheeks in his hands and brought their mouths together in a kiss. Reggie froze for a moment, unsure of what was happening, but figured he had better enjoy this kiss before Luke’s apparent temporary insanity wore off. He dropped his multitude of signs, threading his fingers through Luke’s shaggy hair, tugging lightly as he began kissing back. Luke gave a low growl in his throat, nipping at Reggie’s bottom lip before kissing him again and then pulling away, loving the flush that had overtaken his face.

Julie then grabbed the gobsmacked Reggie by the chin, pulling him down to kiss her, and he seemed to melt into it, licking over her teeth and tongue almost immediately, savouring her flavour. Julie wrapped her arms around him and clung to Reggie for dear life, his kiss powerful and passionate enough to turn her knees to Jell-O. She was sure she looked astounded as he pulled away, blinking at her, then turning to stammer at Luke “Wh-what’s going on?”

Luke gathered the signs, finally picking up the one proclaiming his love for them both and looked at Reggie from underneath his ridiculous eyelashes. “Why don’t you tell us Reg?”

Reggie gestured at the sign, “It’s all right there.”

“For how long?” Luke asked.

“Since we were kids,” he said, looking at Luke, then shifted his gaze to Julie, “And pretty much from the moment we met. But I never thought…”

Luke gathered his hands into his own, Julie clinging to his side still. “Reggie, I have always loved you, but it took Julie and I talking to realize that I’ve been in love with you for so long. We both have. But I think-I think between the three of us, we can find a way to work this out, make everyone happy.”

Julie started pulling them both back towards their house, smiling brightly. “Come on Reggie, we can talk over some cocoa and then you can finish the cheesy holiday movie we were in the middle of.”

Reggie grinned at that, “I love cheesy holiday movies.”

Julie’s smile got even brighter as they reached the doorway that would lead them into their future. “Well that’s it, you’re my new favourite now, sorry Luke.”

Luke squawked, but then let his face settle as he shrugged. “That’s fair, I mean, Reggie has always been my favourite.”

Reggie bit his lip as the two of them squabbled playfully, pulling him inside, and he grinned as they caught him under the mistletoe throughout their home on the way to the kitchen.

Christmas Day

Reggie awoke slowly, blinking his eyes as the gentle light of day streamed softly through the curtains. There was a weight on both sides of his chest, and glancing down, saw a pile of curls over his heart, and a mop of bedhead over the other side, their breath rising goose bumps on his skin. He grinned, tightening his grip on both of them. He was sure last night had been some heartbreak fuelled illusion, there was no way that he had his every romantic fantasy fulfilled.

Yet, here he was, surrounded by the two people who had held his heart for so long, who somehow, loved him back. They had talked long into the night, discussing their feelings, and how they would make a relationship between the three of them work.

"But you two are engaged!" Reggie had argued.

Luke just gave a shrug, gripping his hand tight, Julie holding the other just as firmly. "So we wait, and if it all works out, we marry you too."

Julie shook her head at that, though her smile was fond. "Luke, you can't low-key propose before we even go on our first date."

"My answer is still yes," Reggie whispered, face flushing. Luke grinned wide, and Julie had a faint blush to her cheeks as she murmured a tiny okay. From then, things had devolved into confessions and kisses, and layers being lost. Reggie let them take him to bed, let them love him, use their bodies to prove that they wanted him with them, and he was going to be kept by them for as long as he was amenable. Reggie wondered if they'd mind him sticking around forever, but given the soft smiles they had given him before falling asleep, he thought that maybe they'd be okay with that.

So the next morning, Reggie was sated, loved, and the happiest he'd ever been. Luke was still asleep, but Julie was slowly sniffling awake, her eyes fluttering open and giving Reggie the sweetest smile as she awoke. "Morning baby, Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas darlin'."

Luke snorted himself awake, grunting as he took in his two lovers, then beaming. "Well this is a great way to wake up. You’re comfy Reg.”

Reggie snorted at that, and rolled so that Luke was off of him, turning and snuggled further into Julie. She giggled and shoved him away. “Come on you two, let’s get breakfast on the go before Alex and Willie arrive so we can do presents.” It had become a thing since Luke and Julie got together that they did a breakfast gift exchange between friends so they could do their family time in the evening, and all the presents were sitting under their tree already. Reggie had Alex drop his off earlier the week, having no intention to come himself. Now he was glad he had, so he could be with his loves as they opened the gifts he had painstakingly chosen.

They rolled out of bed, Reggie borrowing some pyjama pants and a shirt from Luke, hugging Julie from behind as she made coffee while Luke handled the eggs. Reggie placed a sloppy kiss to Julie’s cheek before going off to start the toast when the doorbell rang. “I’ll get it,” he offered.

Alex looked a little confused when Reggie opened the door to the house, and then his eye scanned his outfit. “Are… are those Luke’s pyjamas?”

Reggie blushed, and started stammering an answer when Luke came up behind him, slinging an arm around his shoulder and pressing a kiss to the corner of his mouth. “Toast is done baby.” He glanced up, and smiled at Alex and Willie “Oh, hey guys, come on in, breakfast is pretty much ready.”

Willie grinned and hung up their coats, “Oh thank fuck, you three figured it out finally!”

Alex was still lost, looking at Willie, then back at Luke and Reggie. “Figured what out?”

Willie shot Alex a look, gesturing to where Julie had now joined the guys, wrapping her arms around Reggie’s waist, laying her head on his shoulder. “Babe, seriously, did you not get how crazy these three were for each other and how deep in denial they were about it?”

Alex looked at Willie, then back at the trio, Reggie giving a feeble wave, then back at Willie. “Seriously?” He threw his arms up in the air and stalked off towards the kitchen. “Why does it make so much sense? Also Luke you damn well better have made bacon!”

Later, well fed, sipping hot chocolate and cider, Alex still kept looking at the trio, all cuddled together on the couch as Luke crowed over the vintage albums Reggie had found for him. They all looked so insanely happy together, contentment radiating off of them. He had never thought about it, but now he saw how it all came together, how much more clear this made everything, and how well they worked. He settled back in Willie’s arms, despite the insufferable display of kisses happening on the other couch, and pressed a kiss to the underside of his husband’s jaw.

Reggie spied Alex finally relaxing, and smiled softly, leaning into Luke’s embrace as Julie handed out her stack of presents before she settled back into his arms. His signs from the night before sat behind the tree, Julie proclaiming them to be the best present she could have gotten, but she did appreciate the photo album Reggie had given her, especially when she opened it to find it filled with images of her family and friends. He had promised her that there was lots of room for her to add photos of the three of them, and she promised to hold him to that. Her ring still caught in the lights of the tree, but the sight no longer filled Reggie with ugly, hurt feelings. Just the remembrance of the promise they had made the night prior, and he silently wondered how Luke and Julie would feel about a winter wedding some day.

#my stuff #writing #fanfic #rukebox #peterpatterlina #julie and the phantoms #merry christmas

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fromthedeskofelizabeththird · 4 years ago

Text

Habanero

You're a good girl, well behaved.

Absolutely not the type to rail random guys in nightclubs.

Until you are.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Aizawa x Reader, eventual polyamorous Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Mostly gen, this chapter is pretty tame. Reader gets pretty horny towards the end but nothing below the belt actually occurs

Trigger Warnings: None in this chapter.

AO3: Here | Want to support me? I have a Kofi

Chapter: 5/16 (all chapters)

You didn’t get any sleep that night.

As a result of your visits to the police station, hospital and briefing at UA, you didn’t get around to checking your phone until 8PM, only to find it had exploded with missed calls, text messages and voicemails. You had missed well over 200 messages in the group chat you shared with your friends and 32 çalls from your mother.

They all knew you worked at UA and by now the attack was all over the news.

You gave up on catching up on everything you had missed after the first five minutes, choosing instead to send a copy pasted message to everyone in your notifications.

Hello, there was an incident at UA today. I’m fine. We’re all fine. Thank you for your concern.

Responding was a mistake, for even more messages flooded through the moment you hit send.

Everyone wanted to know the gory details. Cousins you hadn’t talked to in years suddenly had more than a passing interest in your affairs.

And then there was the message that made you drop your phone; a single sentence buried between notifications.

It was from your ex.

You had parted on relatively good terms, considering, though hadn’t talked since he picked up his things from your house. You had told yourself it was for the best, even if it shattered your heart to pieces.

It was strange to hear from him now and he seemed to know it, for his words were no more intimate or friendly than those of your distant cousins. It was as if you’d never been lovers, yet memories flooded back.

You remembered eating lunch together at your kitchen table; remembered wearing his sweater on nights he wasn’t home and burying your nose in the collar. You remembered picking out dresses for date nights and taking his hand on the train ride home.

It had been a long, emotional day and you didn’t trust yourself to reply. Instead you got up to make a late dinner, stealing glances at your phone out of the corner of your eye. You couldn’t help but wonder how today might have gone if you were still together. Would he have picked you up from the police station? Maybe he would have taken you for gelato.

You picked up your phone as you waited for your food to cook, opening and closing his message. You gave up in the end, copy and pasting the same response you had given everyone else, but with one minor change.

Hello, there was an incident at UA today. I’m fine. We’re all fine. Thank you for your concern.

How are you?

He replied within the next five minutes, detailing the brand new business partnership he had achieved with one of the major hero agencies in Roppongi. He’d been chasing such a partnership for many of the years you had known him and it was difficult to stop yourself swelling with pride. He wasn’t your boyfriend now, after all.

He was just as curious about your new job at UA, though mostly seemed confused. You had been in your previous job for years with no desire to move, after all. You kept quiet about the fact that if he hadn’t broken your heart you would probably still be there.

After an hour or so of back and forth, he finally sent the message you had been dreading.

We should go for dinner some time.

You cast aside your phone and poured yourself a much needed glass of wine. You didn’t trust yourself to see him in person. It took everything you had not to call him there and then so you could hear his voice.

Your reply was as polite as it was cagey, apologising for your busy schedule under the current circumstances. It was at least partly true, and he seemed understanding enough. Everyone in the country knew about UA’s upcoming sports festival, after all.

Little did you know you’d be seeing him far sooner than expected.

━

UA was closed the next day for repairs and staff meetings. All UA staff were present, with one notable exception. Shouta was still in the hospital and expected to rest up for the rest of the week.

The attack on the USJ might have been foiled, but the implications of it were massive, especially with the sports festival on the horizon. You expected the games to be postponed for the immediate future, but you couldn’t be further from the truth. If anything, the attack made Nezu even more determined to make this year’s games the biggest yet.

You understood his decision, even if you didn’t completely agree with it. The sports festival was critical to the future prospects of all UA students, many of whom (such as the third year pupils) would not get another opportunity to show off their skills in such a public manner. You only hoped that it wasn’t a mistake.

Your own contributions to the meetings were small in the grand scheme of things and you were finished up for the day by 1:30 in the afternoon. You considered picking up groceries on the way home, only to get off the train at the nearest platform to the hospital.

By now Shouta must have come around from his anaesthesia and you decided to call in and visit to find out if he needed anything, like spare clothes or someone to help out with his household chores during his recovery. You had heard Hizashi and Nemuri make comments about his love for cats and seen cat hair on his clothes on certain occasions. If he had pets, you were only too happy to babysit them while he was away.

Unfortunately, your plans were quashed almost immediately.

“What do you mean he discharged himself?”

━

You thought about Shouta as you took the train, as you packed up your groceries and slipped through your front door. He had been terribly beaten up the last time you’d seen him, so much so that even his doctors had recommended he rest for the week. Why would he leave after less than 24 hours? Why would he overstrain himself in such a way?

You thought about him as you made lunch and the final adjustments to your schedule. He was a grown man, you told yourself. He was perfectly capable of making his own choices and taking care of himself.

Even so, you couldn’t stop thinking about his two injured arms. How was he going to cook? How was he going to clean? Surely he didn’t mean to continue underground work with damage to his skull?

You lasted until 5PM before giving up and texting Hizashi.

Can you call me when you’re free?

He called you only seconds later.

“How can I help you, sweet listener?”

“It’s Shouta,” you said. “I called by at the hospital and...well...he’s discharged himself.”

“He what ?!”

“I know,” you said. “I’m really worried.”

“That’s so typical of him,” Hizashi sighed, “what is he thinking?”

“I was thinking I might stop by his place to check on him,” you said. “Do you know where he lives?”

He went quiet for a couple of seconds, clearly thinking about it.

“You know, (Name), it’s not the kind of neighbourhood for a lady…”

“I’ll text you when I get there?”

“Hmmm…”

You could practically see him leaning back in his chair and scratching his chin.

“Fine,” he said at last. “I’ll text you the details.”

“Thank you!”

“You’ve gotta text me though.”

“I will!”

“And, by the way…”

“Mhmmm?”

“How long have you been calling him Shouta?”

You flushed a bright red, feeling as if you’d been caught with your pants down.

Of all of the teachers, Shouta was the only one who hadn’t openly given you permission to call him by his first name in informal situations. You referred to him as Aizawa while around other people and even on the rare occasions you were alone. You had reset, even if he would always be Shouta in your mind.

“I…I...I’ll speak to you later, haha, bye!”

You couldn’t hang up fast enough. You were convinced the intonation of your voice would betray the truth.

You buried your head in your hands, as if to hide your face from your phone.

Well, shit.

━

Hizashi hadn’t been exaggerating when he said Shouta lived in a shady area. Many of the buildings had boarded over their windows and just about every exposed area of brick had several layers of graffiti, most of which were obscene.

You felt eyes on the back of your neck as you pressed the buzzer for Shouta’s apartment, though soon identified the source as a grey cat sprawled across the wall, watching you with steady amber eyes.

“Hello,” you said, leaning over, “are you the gatekeeper?”

The cat yawned and stretched out a paw.

“Oh, I see, I see,” you said, tapping a fingertip against its paw by way of a handshake. “Well you’re doing a very good job.”

“What are you doing here?”

That voice sounded incredibly familiar and you glanced up towards the balcony above you. Shouta was peering over it, still bandaged up and both of his arms in casts. You couldn’t see his face but you knew he was scowling.

“I came to check in on you,” you called up. “The hospital said you’d discharged yourself, and-“

He turned on the spot.

“As you can see, I’m okay. You can go home now.”

“But…”

You had packed an insulated bag full of food before leaving home and glanced from that to the gate. Were you going to have to carry it back on the train? You’d already packed a big lunch for the next day, ahead of seeing 1-A through counselling. Just what were you going to do with all of this extra food?

Shouta peered back over the balcony and sighed.

“Fine,” he said. “But make sure you hold the door open for Sushi.”

“Sushi?” you wondered aloud as the buzzer sounded and you let yourself through the gate. “Who’s Sushi?”

As if in response, the cat hopped down from its position on the wall and wandered up the path as if it had done so a thousand times. It stopped at the front door to the building and turned back to you expectantly, waiting for you to open the door.

You followed the cat into the building and up the stairs. The cat, Sushi you supposed, would rush off ahead of you and then wait for you to catch up. It barreled up the stairwell and then sat at the top before climbing the next. You knew which apartment belonged to Shouta even without checking over Mic’s message, for the cat sat down outside of it and looked back at you.

“Thank you, gatekeeper,” you said, tapping at the door.

“It’s open,” Shouta called out from within and you reached for the handle, Sushi the cat squeezing through the gap the moment you opened it even slightly.

You didn’t know what you expected from Shouta’s home. You knew he spent very little time there and that much was clear the moment you got inside. He had minimal furniture: a couch in one corner, along with a small table and even smaller television. There were no photographs on the walls; no blankets or decorations. Everything in his home had a clear function, as if designed to be left in a hurry. It was the opposite of your home in every possible sense.

“Make yourself comfy, I guess,” he said.

“I don’t know when exactly you checked out of the hospital,” you said, “but I thought you might be hungry. I made a few things…”

You walked over to the table and unzipped your bag.

“I wasn’t sure what kinds of food you liked, so I brought a bit of everything,” you said, pulling out each container. “There’s some soup, some rice, meatballs, an omelette…”

Retrospectively, you had rather overdone it.

“Some of these can be frozen or reheated,” you said. “You don’t have to eat all of them at once.”

He glanced from you to your food containers, which by then had taken up almost all of his table.

“You didn’t have to do all of this.”

“Oh, it’s no bother. We’re colleagues, remember!”

“Yeah,” he said. “I-”

He didn’t get to say anymore, though, for his stomach rumbled noisily.

“Shouta,” you said. “When did you last eat?”

“I...hmm...I had a small meal at the hospital before I-”

“You... wh-?! That was hours ago! You need proteins and vitamins to heal.”

“It’s fine. I’ve had worse.”

It wasn’t fine. Not by any means.

You simmered as you plated up a few of the containers and refrigerated the rest. You couldn’t believe how little one person could care for their own body and pretended you didn’t see the bottles of antiseptic, antibiotics and bandages on his shelf. How many wounds had he gotten without seeing a doctor? How many of his scars came from cuts he had tended himself?

“I don’t want to hear you complain about Midoriya breaking his bones ever again,” you muttered as Sushi rubbed against your legs, seeming not to notice the bowl of cat food only a short distance away.

Of course he’d remembered to feed the cat.

Of course.

“Yes, yes,” said Shouta, leaning back on the couch and pulling down some of his bandages to expose his mouth and chin.

You brought the food over to his table and proceeded to pack away your empty food containers, watching out of the corner of your eye as he leaned over to pick up the cutlery, only to flinch and drop it.

“Do you need some help?”

“Nope, I got it.”

“Are you sure?”

“Ye-fuck.”

The cutlery clattered to the table with a dull thud and you took a seat next to him, reaching for the cutlery and holding it out to him.

“Thank you,” he said, albeit reluctantly, balancing it in his fingers before dropping it again.

“Let me help you,” you said, grabbing the fork and scooping up some of the omelette. “Open wide.”

“Wh-no way,” he said, eyes darting from you to the fork. “I ain’t a toddler.”

“It’s not like I’m going to make aeroplane sounds. Let me help you.”

Shouta grumbled under his breath, but ate from the fork you raised to his lips.

“..cious,” he murmured as you gathered a second forkful.

“Hmm?”

“I said...if you tell anyone about this I’ll shave off your eyebrows.”

“Neglect yourself this much again and I’ll shave your entire head.”

A smile crept across your face; you couldn’t help it. This whole situation was more than a little absurd. Here was the underground hero, Eraserhead, known for his smooth takedowns of villains in Musutafu’s underbelly, struggling to hold onto a fork. You were little more than a girl he’d hooked up, yet there you were, nagging him as if you were married.

Shouta fell into contemplative silence as well.

“At the attack,” he said at last. “Did they hurt you?”

“What do you mean?”

You hadn’t been involved in the fighting, but perhaps he didn’t know that?

“At the hospital,” he said, “you had blood on your shirt.”

Your heart skipped a beat, remembering how you had kissed his forehead before you could stop yourself. You’d thought he was asleep. Had he been awake the whole time?

“No,” you said. “Nezu had me go to the police station. I used my quirk too much on the suspects too much, that’s all.”

“Ah. I see.”

“Were you… worried about me?”

“Of course not! It’s just that you’re useless in battle.”

“Oh my god, you were worried about me.”

“No I wasn’t,” he said, stubbornly. “Now give me some of the chicken.”

You scooped up some of it and lifted it to his lips but he didn’t move, even though he’d asked for it.

“Shou…” you began, only to fall silent as he leaned in.

You told yourself you should pull away, even as you met him in the middle and ran your tongue over his bottom lip. He leaned over towards you and crushed his lips against yours, kissing you so deeply that it sent a shiver through your core. You wanted his hands on you; wanted to ride him until both your throat and cunt were raw.

Oh no...

Before this, you had never known that kisses could feel like stormy seas. For the first time in your life, you wanted to drown.

You reached to cup the uninjured side of his face.

Two seconds more and you would break the reset. Three and you wouldn’t even regret it.

Sushi took the initiative, though, making use of the distraction to hop onto your lap and steal the chicken from your fork. You broke the kiss, both pulling away as if burned.

“I…” you said, “I’m sorry.”

What were you thinking? Shouta was injured and likely still had remnants of anesthesia in his body. Even if he didn’t, the attack on USJ would leave anyone shaken. You had gone there to help him out with chores, not take advantage of him while he was in a potentially vulnerable state.

“I should go,” you said, clearing your throat and rushing away to zip up your insulated bag.

“(Name),” he said. “I-”

“It’s okay,” you said. “It was my fault. I…”

You gave him the biggest, most artificial smile in your arsenal; the one you used at job interviews and dinner with your parents.

“I’ll see you at work!”

━

You thought about the kiss on the train ride home, as you washed your dirty food containers and took a bath. You sank down into the water, wishing you could wash away the fluttering in your core.

It was just arousal, you told yourself. Sex released chemicals, namely oxytocin, and it was natural for you to feel attached to him. Hell, you’d seen each other completely naked, which in itself was something profoundly intimate.

It would fade in time, as all things did.

You repeated it over and over as you dried yourself off and got into bed. Soon, very soon, you would forget how it felt when he’d touched you. Bodies replaced their cells every decade or so; one day your bodies would have never touched at all.

The exhaustion from the past few days caught up with you the moment your head touched the pillow and before long you were dreaming.

You dreamed of waking in the arms of your lover, who ran his fingers through your hair and kissed you on the forehead. The bed was comfortably warm and bathed in soft morning light; your lover’s arm heavy across your waist.

“(Name),” he whispered in your ear and you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“(Name),” he whispered again and you looked up into his face, taking in his black hair and dark eyes. “Why are you crying?”

Your eyes snapped open then, dragging you back to your empty room.

There was no one else in your bed, you realised. It was the middle of the night, with no trace of the early morning glow you had so happily basked in.

The tears, though, they were real.

━

A/N

yes, it's that Sushi

#aizawa x reader #aizawa shouta x reader #eraserhead #eraserhead x reader #habanero

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softspiderling · 5 years ago

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honest feelings and bad timing - TEASER | t.h. / h.o.

Summary: It’s always been you, Tom and Harrison. A package deal. But sometimes things change.

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader x Harrison Osterfield

Author’s Note: shoutout to @afangirlwashere for spinning this idea around and making me want to read it so bad, I had to write it. This is not going to be polyamorous, btw, I just didn’t want to give too much away.

Warnings: angst, underage drinking

Word Count: 1,5k

C O M I N G T H I S F A L L!

2 0 1 3

“What’d you tell your parents?”

Tom tugged the hood over his head before glancing at Harrison. It was nearing nine pm, they just had their last day at school, and even though it was already dark and the street lamps were slowly flickering on it was still considerably warm.

“I told them we were having a good bye party at Cassidy’s place and that their parents were home, you?”

Harrison stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Told them we were hanging out at Y/N’s place. Didn’t your brothers wanted to tag along when you mentioned a party?”

“Obviously,” Tom snorted. “But mum luckily didn’t let them, said ‘Tom deserves this, you two should stay at home’.”

Sometimes Harrison envied how open-minded Nikki was. Even though he didn’t like lying to his mum and step-father, he knew that they wouldn’t have let him leave the house if he had mentioned a party, let alone alcohol. He usually wasn’t one for breaking the rules, but Nikki was right. It was the end of the school year and all three of you had a busy year.

Tom had been filming his film with Saoirse Ronan, you were going to countless auditions and Harrison had just recently been signed by a model agency. On top of that, you had been juggling the school work which you sadly did not get a free pass on just because you were auditioning, because basically every student was doing the same.

“Lucky you,” Harrison muttered Tom grinned at him, fishing his phone out of pockets when they rounded into your street.

“You think she’s already ready?” he asked and Harrison shrugged, glancing at your house that was standing at the end of the street, windows illuminated by the lights from within.

“She said she was.”

THE BRITS

You: I’ll be done by nine, don’t be late!!11!!

Tommy: we’re standing outside ur house. Should we knock?

“Do you think she told her parents about the party?” Harrison wondered and Tom tapped his phone against his chin, thinking as he stared up the window from your bedroom.

“I’m not sure actually. She’s usually honest with her family, so maybe?” he said, glancing at his phone when it vibrated with a new message from you.

You: no, I’ll be right down.

The boys watched as the light from your bedroom turned off and a couple of minutes later, you exited the house.

“Yeah, I will! Love you!” you called before shutting the door behind you and traipsing over to where the boys where standing, a black oversize hoodie hanging over your bare legs.

“Aren’t you going to be cold?” Harrison asked with a creased forehead and you squinted your eyes at him.

“I just snuck out before my mum could see me and now you’re the one concerned with my choice of clothing?”

“Haz is just saying that we brought hoodies but inevitably one of us is going to have to lend them to you because you’re cold,” Tom piped up and you scoffed.

“I’ll be fine. We’ll be inside the whole time and as soon as I’ve downed some shots, I won’t be cold, I promise,” you told them and linked your arms with them. Harrison sighed but let himself be dragged from you.

“I take it you didn’t tell them about the party?”

You gave him a look. “Are you crazy? Of course I didn’t tell them, you know how weird they get when I even show one sign of growing up and drinking underage is definitely that.”

It was three hours later when Tom and Harrison realized you had planned on doing exactly that.

The boys had left you alone to play a few rounds of Mario kart in the basement of Cassidy’s parents’ house while you had stayed upstairs at the main party. As the music upstairs was turned up so high, even drowning out the music from the basement, the boys found their way back upstairs, only to be greeted by a bunch of people dancing drunkenly and you in the middle of it on top of the dining table., crooning to whatever Rita Ora song was playing

Tom was gaping at you while Harrison sighed, rubbing his hand over his face.

“For god’s sake.”

“R.I.P. to the girl you used to see. Her days are over, baby she's ooooooveeeeer!” you yelled, your voice cracking. You lifted the WKD Blue bottle that served as your microphone and when you caught sight of your two best friends standing in the doorway, you beamed at them, waving them over.

“Haz! Tommy, come on and sing with me!”

You took a few steps forward and the table tipped over, sending you flying. Lucky for you, Tom dove forward to catch you in his arms while Harrison nearly got a heart attack.

“Whoopsie,” you giggled and looked up at Tom with glassy eyes. “Thanks Tommy,” you said and pressed a kiss on his cheek, your lip gloss smearing on his cheek.

“Alright, it’s time for us to leave,” Harrison announced and grabbed your hoodie that you had taken off during the night.

You pouted while Tom gently put you back on your feet. “You okay to stand, love?” he asked, his eyes full of worry.

“I’m fine,” you insisted, fixing the straps of your dress. “I don’t want to go home.”

“Well, life’s hard darling,” Harrison pointed out as he and Tom pulled the hoodie over your head. You planted your heels in the ground as they dragged you out of the crowded house.

“Bye guys!” you shouted, waving with your hands excessively.

“Bye Y/N!” Cassidy called back, her hands around her mouth. “Text me tomorrow!”

As you stepped out of the house, the cold air did a pretty good job of sobering you up a bit and you leaned quite heavily on Tom, as your surroundings started spinning.

You groaned into Tom’s shoulder. “Can we sit down for a bit?” you asked and he sighed before stopping, letting you fall on your butt. You leaned your forehead on your arms and closed your eyes, while two pairs of hands were rubbing your back comfortingly.

“You wanna tell us what this is about love?” Harrison asked, his annoyed tone from earlier having dissipated at seeing the state you currently were in.

“What do you mean?” you mumbled, voice muffled. “I just had too much WKD. Doesn’t mean there’s a deep meaning behind every stupid thing I do.”

The boys shared a look over your head because it usually meant exactly that. Out of three people in this friendship it was usually you who took care of the boys and scolded them for being stupid and not thinking things through. Even though it was refreshing to not being taken care off once in a while, Tom and Harrison were still concerned for your well-being.

You sighed and looked back up, a frown on your face. “James broke up with me,” you mumbled out, plucking some grass from the dirt before throwing it at your feet.

Harrison pulled a face while Tom furrowed his brows. You had met James at an audition for a film and immediately clicked with him, which neither of the boys understood because they both couldn’t stand the guy. He was way too polished and the way he looked down on BRIT school just because he went to some fancy actors’ school in New York was maddening.

“I know you guys didn’t like him, but I really did,” you said and Tom leaned his head on your shoulder.

“What happened?” he asked and Harrison mirrored his actions.

“Do we need to kick his ass?” the blonde asked and you laughed, causing the boys’ heads on your shoulder to shake with the vibration of your body.

“No, you don’t have to. I’m fine,” you said and they gave you a look. “Okay, I’m fine now. I just wanted to forget for a few hours. Being dumped fucking sucks.”

You then grew quiet and the only thing that could be heard was the music playing at Cassidy’s house. Trickling your fingers down Tom’s arm he was leaning on your knee, you laced your fingers with his before doing the same with Harrison’s. You still felt a little empty inside, but sharing the news with your best friends seemed to have dulled the pain a bit.

“I’m really glad to have you guys, you know,” you said quietly. “Thanks for joining me at my table in the cafeteria two years ago, I never had friends like you two.”

“Of course love,” Harrison hummed, squeezing your hand. “Who else would keep us out of trouble?” Tom joked and nudged your arm with his nose.

“You were the ones keeping me out of trouble tonight,” you threw in and closed your eyes for a bit. The way home was long and it was late, the alcohol still coursing through your veins. You weren’t sure how to get home without your parents hearing you and finding out about your drunken state, but you knew that everything was going to be fine as long as the boys next to had your back.

A/N: I’m sooooo excited for this to come out!! Please let me know what you think of this and share your excitement with me!!!

Bolded means I couldn’t tag you for some reason. If that is the case with your user, please shoot me a message so we can figure out the problem! Message me if you want to be on the taglist!

Taglist: @sunflowercth // @thatphandomchick // @psychicforest // @llamasaurousmaddie // @fandomdarlings // @unfortunateshelby // @skyfall8600 // @yeahimcrying // @spideys-gurl // @one-big-fangirl // @imagine-lovebug // @professionalphangirluniverse // @zabdisamor // @palindrome-teddy // @axa-vega // @btsgot7crackheads // @angelicshinigami // @mrsfortune1306 // @spicy-mango626 // @thorsvotary // @boughs-of-hollie // @magicalturmoil // @overdramaticdepressedteen // @tomhollandismyspiderman // @tomshufflepuff // @trustfundparker // @evelyn120700 // @sincerelygmg // @the-surviving-revolutionist // @darktwistydiamond // @tomspidertingle // @jackiehollanderr // @jsusofsburbia // @nerdyandproudofitsstuff // @marvelislove10 // @chaoticc-loki // @pluckypete // @starlightfound // @lost-in-translating // @chaoticharmonyqueen // @beautifullydisconnected // @parkeret // @strang-ersclub // @afangirlwashere @xidaughterofthemoonix // @screamholland // @laureharrier //

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polyamorousmisanthrope · 5 years ago

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I Hate the Way My Partner Treats My Metamour

http://polyamorousmisanthrope.com/wordpress/2020/01/23/1173/

What do you do when you hate the way a partner’s partner treats them?

This is a tough one. On the one hand, you love your partner, and of course, you want everyone to treat your partner well, right?

On the other hand, your partner is a grown-ass adult* and needs to make their own choices on how to interact with people, when, and with whom.

I think in this case, your role as Trusted Advisor is the best way to handle it. (In good partnerships, y’all are mutually Trusted Advisors, right?)

You need to be specific, too.

“Jeffrey, when we were at that party last week, I heard Joffrey snarking the fact you were excited about the tickets you scored to the next Patriots game, rolling his eyes at you liking that ‘sportsball‘ activity. I was wondering, how did you feel about that?”

See, the first thing is not to assume. It’s entirely possible, Jeffrey, who you know to be a lifelong Patriots fan and even has a room dedicated to memorabilia isn’t particularly bothered by Joffrey snarking his football interest.

Now if Jeffrey is bothered by the behavior, it is okay to say something. The important thing is to be supportive, but not to tell your partner how to act or what to do.

It is also important not to get involved unless asked. I know most people feel at least a little protective of the people they love. And goodness knows at least part of you wants to stomp up to Joffrey and tell him to lay off. Jeffrey is allowed to like football, for pity’s sake, even if Joffrey isn’t into it.

So, what about abuse?

This one is… woah, rough. What you want to do is just rescue that person. Of course, you do. And it doesn’t work.

The first thing is to outline the behavior specifically. Call it out for what it is. You are unlikely to be listened to immediately. The first reaction is going to be excuses for the abusive partner. It is so normal. Admitting you’re being abused can be a big ball of shame. It shouldn’t feel shameful, I know. To many people it simply does, so you need to expect that and deal with it.

If you get those excuses, do not double down on your point. As a full confession about knowing the right thing to do and not doing it, I did double down on social media recently where a person was being mistreated in a polyamorous relationship. While I had no real reason to expect physical abuse, the person was not being treated well, and I hammered at it a couple of times. I feel bad about this because instead of actually helping, I’ve just made the poor person resistant to feedback. I need to do better. Be better than me. Certainly, I’m trying to be better than me… *sighs*

A good way to help someone in this situation is to ask a great question, “What do you want to see happen?”

Yes, the answer is going to be something along the lines of, “I want them to stop hitting me/making me feel afraid and small all the time.” That might be unrealistic and yeah, what you really want the person to say is, “Leave their ass!”

In supporting someone you love, especially one who is being mistreated, making sure they have agency and choice is really one of the best things you can do. Showing that you support them in that agency and choice will strengthen their abilities to make choices that are best for them.

It is hard to watch someone you love being mistreated, even mildly. If you’re familiar with the Ring Theory of support, the basic idea is that if someone is closer to the difficulty, you offer comfort in. You reach OUT to get support. So while you’re comforting and supporting your partner, it’s fine to reach out to get support for yourself.

(Wes Bausmith / Los Angeles Times)

*Your partner better damn well be a grown-ass adult, just sayin’.

#polyamorous misanthrope

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genshinboys · 3 years ago

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Zhongli x Childe - POLYAMOROUS HCS

This is the GN version of my original FEM reader post. I realise not all of you identify with female pronouns so here is your food.

If you do, though, I suggest clicking the link and reading the fem reader instead.

WARNING: NSFW, GAY CONTENT, GN READER / ZHONGLI / CHILDE POLYAMOROUS RELATIONSHIP

„Who are you?”

However, to be quite frank, no amount of prior instruction or fair share of warning could prepare you for the disastrously handsome two men currently curiously ogling you from behind their desks.

Were they not informed of your arrival?

The other one - the blue-eyed ginger - jumps to his feet excitably. The said eyes flip through your whole person, devoting more than an acceptable amount of time to inspect your body. He raises his eyebrow. The corner of his mouth moves upwards as well, and he hums approvingly once he stands firm before you. He is tall. Too tall. The jingle jangle of the trinkets in your box intensifies as your clammy hands begin to shake when you attempt to hide from him behind the content of the box.

„I-I’m your new co-editor.”

Your stuttering, treacherous mouth transforms the sentence into a slur of weird sounds.

„Oh-oh?”

The ginger muses in a pleasant hum that thrills you and makes things swirl in your stomach in an odd way.

„That cannot be.”

„Listen, pretty. If you’re yet another lost lamb looking for the model agency - it is the building right across the street. Not this one, alright?”

He makes a ‘shoo away’ gesture with his hands, sighing audibly. The contagious happy vibes radiating from him just moments ago suddenly went out of the window.

„I’m sorry b-b---,”

You interrupt, but he is relentless.

„It’s all fine. I know, I know. Being all pretty like that it’s only fair you didn’t get luckier in the big brains department. Don’t worry. There are roughly a few cuties a week that come knocking at our offices’ doors lost and confused. But hey, at least this time you really are quite irresistible.”

You feel his fingers brazenly sneaking up your shoulders to lead you out.

„Have you just offended me?”

You hold your ground steadily. The man smirks, amused by the resistance on your side. Maybe you’re not that silly after all.

„More like complimented your looks.”

„Childe, I beg of you. Don’t demoralize our future..., erm, partner. We won’t be getting another one.”

You’re held back by the other male, admittedly just as handsome albeit seemingly less of a dickhead after the quick yet thorough consideration you have just silently done in your head.

„Easy there, Mr Zhongli. I’m merely checking if they have what it takes to adjust to our line of work.”

Son of a---, you curse the living shit out of him, Childe, or whatever his ridiculously stupid name is.

„Your father will not be happy if they hand in the resignation like the others did.”

„Childe, now, take that box from our guest and let’s properly introduce ourselves.”

„Here, doll. Your humble quarters.”

He makes it a point to nod his head at the never-ending pile of documents on his and Childe’s desks.

„Who the hell is that?”

Childe groans in a somewhat accusatory manner He has picked up a photo frame, and it dangles in the air when he questions further.

„Don’t tell me it’s your boyfriend?”

He doesn’t try to hide the look of disgust on his face when he gives the photo another glance over with his unimpressed eyes. He shifts his gaze to you, expectant.

„Well, no, no. It’s my ex.”

Childe smirks devilishly, looking rather relieved at the word ex.

„So why the hell is he still in the frame, in this box?”

The air is heavy with tension when Childe waits but only a few moments for your answer before he moves to the window and boldly throws the photo out.

„We don’t collect rubbish here, doll.”

Zhongli clears his throat to fill the awkward silence that follows.

„Well, I suppose we could get you a nicer frame, right? It didn’t really seem to match the décor of the office.”

The brunet reasons with the fingertips gripping his chin.

„That would be a nice welcoming gift. How about we take a photo now to commemorate our meeting?”

„Fine.”

You croak out weirdly.

The one step at a time approach does seem to be a bit of a rusty concept now.

„Childe, Dear, you’ve outdone yourself this time.”

„You always say the same thing, Zhongli.”

„But I firmly believe it to be true, Childe.”

„Don’t be angry, Y/N. It was just an innocent joke.”

He whines like a teenage boy. Your cheeks turn red when you realise how borderline lewd he sounds, intentionally or not. It’s quite impressive how his voice can go from dark and menacing to innocent and cute on a whim. It’s like the man has a split-personality, and you never know which of these you will have to take on.

„There is nothing innocent about pinching my buttocks, idiot.”

There comes a choked chuckle from the direction of Zhongli’s desk, but he quickly drowns out the sound by rustling the newsprint.

„I guess when you say it like that, it does sound a little bit..., bad. But, here, how about some candy as an apology? I did buy more of these chocolate coated plums you enjoyed so much.”

He then looks at you with these ocean-blue eyes as the skin around them crinkles adorably.

„Aren’t you in an exceptionally good mood today, Childe?”

„How can I not with such good company?”

And then Childe freezes you in place with his eyes shifting their focus to your flustered person as you shrink away from the familiar grin plastered on his face.

„Most lovely company, indeed, Dear. We’ve been blessed by good fortune like never before.”

„May I?”

He walks up to you and offers for you to wrap your arm around his, which you do, albeit it feels as if the move itself took your whole strength away.

„Childe, we should stop for some cooler drink on our way to the office. Y/N seems a bit flushed.”

Childe tilts his head like a cat towards you.

„Poor little thing, must be the hot weather, isn’t it?”

ღ Speaking of habits, you’ve developed quite a few over these couple of months of intense bonding with your fellow article writers. One of such customs are the gym escapades that leave you out of breath, oftentimes not because of the tough exercises, but more like the sight of the ginger flexing his muscles in the barbell bent-over row. His back is broad, thighs wound up so tight they seem harder than a rock. He’s also very likely to drop his t-shirt somewhere on the floor between the sets. Eyes invariably checking up on you, with a ‘they’re here with me’ death glare fixed on any curious male eyes within Childe’s sniffing distance. Childe is on the watch. And what if Mr Zhongli chooses to come along with you? Oh, good manners be damned. The hawk-eye will hunt down every single one of them.

„Hey, watch it.”

Woah.

„Childe stop!”

„Mr Zhongli, please help! Please!”

Zhongli sucks in a breath, palpably going through some kind of an internal conflict. The gold in his eyes flares with friskiness you’ve never suspected him of being capable of.

„Help?”

„And why should I, my Dearest?”

„Forgive me, Little Crumb.”

Zhongli whispers huskily.

Holy shit.

Has he just called you a new pet name?

„Fuck!”

This time, however, the creep must have seen through your escape route and immediately launched from his desk to chase after you.

Hence, your current predicament. You turn your head back, revolted. The puffing and gasping speed up as the man is essentially nipping at your heels. ‘That’s it’ - you think to yourself when you take an awkward, big lunge forward to counter the last two steps, but sadly, you trip!

Talk about timing.

„Mr Zhongli?”

His features soften at your adorable reaction of relief mixed with gratitude, but he holds you close, indulgently digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips. He does it a bit unknowingly, too caught up in the way you look back into his glinting with secret emotions eyes.

„Little Crumb, I told you so many times to be more careful.”

„I’m so sorry, Mr Zhongli.”

„I know you are, Dear.”

„Mr X, it seems to me you must have got lost. Shouldn’t you be working on the ground floor together with other sports columnists?”

Zhongli asks, but clearly isn’t interested in the answer when he straight away ignores the man, scooping you closer to safely lead you to your office.

Needless to say, you’ve never heard of Mr X after that incident.

Your heart goes berserk, pounding like a drum in your chest in anticipation of what is about to happen; what you’re about to see once you peek into the office.

Moans, gasps? Wait a minute, have you just heard a slap?

Shit.

„Don’t be impatient, Dear. You’ll end up being hurt.”

Childe, as if the man’s words fell on deaf ears, tugs at the fabric, pulls incessantly until finally, finally Zhongli’s cock springs free. He gapes at the man’s length with drool dripping down his chin, which is promptly wiped dry by Zhongli’s thumb swiping tenderly across Childe’s open lips. You swallow hard, suddenly reminded of the saliva gathering in your mouth. Zhongli is massive. Perfectly shaped, a thick, bulging slab of meat. Your thighs feel wet with the juices seeping through your underwear when you squeeze them shut, seeking any kind of friction.

„I swear if you don’t do something, anything I’ll---,”

„You will what, Childe?”

The brunet says lowly, enthralled by the way his lover meticulously coats his fingers with almost religious worship glinting in his ocean-blue eyes.

„Be a good boy, and I shall reward you.”

Childe’s sucking intensifies at that promise. Restless hips piston into Zhongli’s with renewed zeal. Zhongli hums in approval, withdrawing the glistening fingers from the ginger’s eager mouth.

„P-Please, just hurry up, p-please, na-ah!”

Childe begs, having forsaken his pride. His usually suave voice cracks the moment Zhongli reaches for his naked thigh and hooks it over his shoulder upon kneeling before him.

„Undo your buttons. I want to see your chest.”

If possible, your body flushes even more. The tension in your belly forms a tight knot that forces you to hesitantly continue rubbing your clothed core with an open palm. It’s not enough, though. No matter how much you press, it keeps tingling inside.

„F-Fuck, Zhongli!”

The fluttery sensation becomes worse with each moan, each profanity slipping past the ginger’s obscene mouth. You feel on fire, ready to combust at any moment. Your strength has left you, and at this point, you’re weekly clinging to a wall on wobbly legs. Blood rushes to your core. It pulses in hot waves, spreading all over your groin. Having little control over your actions, a clammy hand slides to your underwear, down to your swollen sex, where you begin to rub synchronously with Zhongli’s bobbing head. It’s maddening. The tension below your navel makes you absent-mindedly rut into your palm. The other hand is still securely placed on your mouth, preventing you from whimpering too loud.

„Too fast, ah-ngyahh, you’re going to make me cum!”

Childe lets out a cry that unexpectedly pushes you over the edge as your thickened sex begins to throb. Everything turns white, and your limbs go stiff when your orgasm attacks you so violently. Your thighs quake, and breath hitches on and on while you pathetically try to control the flow of air whooshing straight into your hyperventilating lungs.

„No-ah-no, I want to cum with you in me!”

Holy fuck. He was seconds from bursting because of the way Zhongli looked at him.

Zhongli groans angrily at being so openly defied. He rises to his feet, towering over the younger male.

„J-Just fuck me already, you-you stubborn old ass.”

Childe stutters out in a voice that doesn’t resemble his own anymore.

„I don’t care if it hurts.”

„Zhongli!”

He feels himself being lifted from the ground, and a sense of relief washes over him. The brunet angles himself perfectly, and in a precise thrust pushes past the taut rim of Childe’s entrance.

Childe screams.

„Is that to your liking, Dear?”

Your hips jerk. Thighs shake with effort when you can’t bring yourself to stop touching your twitching hole. You are already two digits deep and it’s not nearly enough to satisfy you. You hear Zhongli cursing Childe’s tight heat, telling him to relax. You breathe in laboriously through your nose, your walls clamp down on the plunging fingers when Childe moans out more of his „yes, please, yes” nonsense. The second orgasm leaves you even more depleted and considerably more teary-eyed as you furiously pump the digits in and out of your clenching core. It’s wet, dripping everywhere, making sloppy sounds as you finger yourself relentlessly. It’s like you are in a daze, unable to shake out of it when they fuck each other so lewdly in front of your eyes.

„Childe, you’re taking me so well. Is that what you wanted, huh? You look so pretty, crying around my cock. Absolutely ethereal.”

„C-Cum with me, nyhah---, I can’t hold it back anymore, ahh!”

Childe plunges into such deep pleasure there seems to be no escape. Zhongli’s hips stammer, balancing on the edge after hearing the younger’s desperate plea.

„F-Fuck, Childe, archons above-”

MASTERLIST!

If you enjoy my writing please leave a comment, reblog, visit my blog and interact with me <3 It means a lot and keeps me motivated!

#zhongli smut #childe smut #zhongli headcanons #childe headcanons #genshin smut #genshin headcanons #genshin scenarios #zhongli drabbles #childe drabbles #zhongli x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact #zhongli genshin impact #childe genshin impact #zhongli imagines #childe imagines #genshin impact smut #genshin impact scenarios

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polyamoroamer · 5 years ago

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Rational Poly Men(TM)

So, you've been polyamorous for a little while, maybe even a big while. You meet this guy. He's funny, quick off the mark, intelligent, friendly. He's got a lot of polyamorous friends, some people even consider him a 'polyamory expert'. He may or may not modestly deny this. He isn't close to most of his ex partners, if any. They were frequently too controlling, too jealous, unwilling to do the necessary self work that polyamory requires. He's smooth. Maybe he even tells you he no longer really experiences jealousy, or gives some terribly minor, long-ago examples of it to prove empathy.

Maybe you end up dating him, or watching him date someone close to you. Let's say it's your friend, S. She's very empathetic, a warm, loving person. She's not completely new to polyamory, but she hasn't had many close relationships within this framework. She cares a lot about those around her and will always try to make time to show you she loves you. You regard S as a very good friend, and a good partner to those she dates - always willing to work on her own issues before taking it out on the other person.

You watch as she transitions from the initial elation and progressively becomes more and more unhappy and nervous, then happy again by turns. She confides in you, more than she ever has. Mr Rational has all these fights with his longterm primary partner. She hasn't spent much time with her, but she sounds pretty controlling. It's like she doesn't want Mr R to spend any time with S.

Of course, she says, he gives his primary so much leeway but he can only give her so much, right? They both agreed to polyamory, and it's not fair for her to ask him to stop seeing S entirely.

Eventually, S seems more steady, a bit more sure of her position. She's started spending time with Ms Primary, and they get on surprisingly well - both very courteous and always making sure they help each other get what they need in their relationships with Mr R, without hurting him in the process. It occurs to you that Mr R seems to be being very passive here - he's almost more like a toy letting himself be passed between two partners rather than a man with agency who can deliberately make time for either of them. He may or may not. seem to have one form of input, however: the suggestion that Ms P and S start seeing each other sexually too. S may view this as a kind willingness to share the affection of his partners.

Mr R starts seeing someone new. Suddenly S is nervous, vulnerable, confiding in you again, and closer to Ms Primary than ever before. They try to talk to Mr R together - even Ms P can see that Mr R is neglecting his relationship with S. Not to mention her own relationship with him. S tells you that Mr R doesn't do anything at the house, that Ms P is stuck doing the cooking, cleaning, laundry... Sometimes, she whispers, it's almost like he keeps her as a housekeeper rather than a partner.

They confront him together. Mr R accuses them both of jealousy, ganging up on him, of being controlling, too insecure to deal with the realities of polyamory. Because she is kind, and easily led to believe she is in the wrong, S starts working on her insecurities and issues with jealousy. You note that Mr R stays distant from this processing and doesn't offer noticeable support. Perhaps he is still too caught up in NRE.

This is a hypothetical situation, based off what I've seen in a few polycules I've encountered over the years. My first (secondhand) experience of polyamory was watching two (and then more) friends go through something akin to this. Mr R is one of my close friends, and so is Ms P, and now S, and many others. They are also Pete and Bea and Flora, they are also Franklin Veaux (Eve Rickert's coauthor in writing More Than Two) and his partners. They are also those guys I meet at festivals and out and about. The beautiful ones who are simultaneously drop dead gorgeous, charming and utterly yawn-inducing in their similarity. Mr 2Evolved4U.

Mr Rational Poly Man: Simultaneously active in the pursuit of new connections and absolutely, unbearably passive in the maintenance of current ones. The guys who start seeing someone new and it's down to whoever has the grabbiest hands to spend time with him. If you're sad about him not making the effort to see you, it's your fault for not demanding that time. If he doesn't want to spend that time with you, it's your fault for being too controlling. If you feel insecure or jealous, it's because you can't handle polyamory. Maybe you just want him to be monogamous with you, huh?

Mr Rational Poly Man frequently has at least one partner who bends over backwards to enable his lifestyle of pursuing new partners. Usually a woman, she takes on the role of mother, doing his laundry, his cooking, his cleaning, possibly even in some cases she is the sole breadwinner. She has little time to pursue new relationships herself, or even maintain the ones she does have. She is too busy being two adults, and looking after a man child.

This is more or less just a warning post, and a reminder that those guys who believe somehow that they're terribly rational are usually complete bellends. 'I don't feel jealousy anymore, I'm beyond it' often means: 'I have caring and empathetic partners who do their best to maintain our relationship as well as forming new ones, and I take it for granted'.

In my experience, when a Rational Poly Man feels jealousy, because his partner is maybe finally thinking of leaving him, or because they have formed a new, intense relationship and are maybe showing less care than they usually would, it's a messy explosion of rage. Because the coddling has momentarily stopped, and poor baby can't handle it.

M was not quite a Rational Poly Man, but he definitely sometimes bordered on it. The one time in our relationship where I behaved with a new partner the way he did every time (sexually interacting with them and not wanting to with him), he threw a complete tantrum and actually, it made me feel a little better about my behaviour in that moment, because while it was shitty, it was important for me to see how much I'd been catering to him and how little he'd been doing the same for me, though I genuinely believe he was trying to in his own way. And that was only a lowkey version of this.

Don't be taken in by Rational Poly Men. It's just a ballache waiting to happen, and a lacklustre experience in every way. Realistically though, they do tend to be very good in bed (or so I am led to believe) so it can be hard to let that go for a lot of people. Just remember there are always more people out there who either are good in bed, or are willing and quick to learn.

Thanks for coming to my Ted talk.

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blackenedwhite97 · 5 years ago

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Reader xEraserMic (BNHA)

Day 50 something of Quarantine has me feeling pretty okay, i’ve been struggling with my mental health lately and have started to pull myself out of it. So this took longer than expected.

Also i didn’t go back and edit this one a few times before posting so I apologize if the mistakes hinder the story.

This post includes: physical violence, mental health, cursing and a prominent polyamorous romantic relationship.

Polyamory: the practice of engaging in multiple sexual relationships with the consent of all the people involved.

Mental Health note: This piece touches on panic and anxiety born form trauma, while this piece is rather mild in it’s description of said mental health issues if you do not feel like you are in the place to deal with any content including these topics please skip right over this post!

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There’s something about a packed train that has become comforting to Y/n. A packed train lined with the tired faces of commuters staring blankly at their phone screens meant that there must not have been anything big going on. Having the job of a hero meant that you also had the baggage, the hypervigilance, reluctance to relax at night, the nightmares. A stinky train car rocking bored passengers back and forth meant that nothing was happening. No one was panicking, there were no tears, or fire or violence. Just a normal commute on a normal Tuesday afternoon.

Since Hizashi and Shota had moved into the on-campus dorms to strengthen U.A. 's security you were effectively alone in the apartment throughout the week. Shota and Hizashi had been in the big city their whole lives, they were somewhat desensitized to the high villain activity here. You on the other hand, having only moved here a few years ago from a province that generally experienced a low crime rate, were having a hard time keeping up. It all felt never ending, nearly every hour at work brought a new villain report.

First it was the JSW attack, where Shota nearly died. You had night terrors about losing him for weeks after, Hizashi had to calm you in the night. Then the hero killer in Hosu City created the need for more heroes so your agency partnered up with one stationed over there. You had worked two weeks there and one back in Musutafu of and on until the killer was taken down. You had spent your nights in Hosu City looking over your shoulder and eyeing every shadow big enough to conceal a person and your days calling Hizashi or Shota between classes. After Stain the world had never been the same, there was more violence. More casual crime involved knives and guns and you’d hear his manifesto echoing through the dark streets.

It was the brief moments of the day, the crowded train, the line up at the food cart, the busy coffee shop, that gave you peace. There was nothing notable happening, yet things were still happening. There wasn’t the same kind of silence like there was at home, there wasn’t any loneliness. Everyone there was living their lives unaffected by the villains lurking the alleys. It was all very mundane, but it was what made being a hero worth it.

It started at the far end of the car once the train pulled away from the station, the shifting of bodies rippled through the passengers. A young woman shrieked, and the panic spread like wildfire. Phones were dropped, newspapers abandoned as everyone rose from their seats and crowded towards you. You instinctively began pulling people behind you, trying to maneuver your way through the crowd when a sharp metallic clang rang out, a cluster of sparks burst from the now scrapped metal ceiling.

The passengers swarmed with renewed fear and you felt yourself getting pushed backwards. You could just barely make out a ragged red scarf and mask of bandages through the crowd when your view was blocked by a tall man with broad shoulders. You recognized that combination anywhere and your gut twisted as you fell back into another passenger. Stain couldn’t have broken out, he couldn’t. There would have been an alert.

You fished in your pocket for your phone and looked at the screen, nothing from the police or the agency. You unlocked your phone, Hizashi and Shota holding twin cats smiling up at you. It was brief but you felt your chest warm and nerves settle for just a moment. You shook your head clear and dialed 119 , thrusting your phone out towards a lady who was currently clutching a bright yellow railing. She fumbled with your phone, her wide eyes swirling with confusion and fear.

“I dialed 119, tell them there is a villain on the train and what station we’re going to!” You instructed, taking off your coat and rolling your shoulders.

You took a deep breath, steadying yourself, and focused. You jumped up and grabbed onto the railings attached to the ceiling and pulled yourself up until you could see above the crowd’s heads. What looked like a young man, not having filled out with muscle yet was dressed up in a makeshift Stain costume. He was slighter than Stain and his hair which poked out of the top of the mask of bandages was dark blue and hung limp. He had one arm wrapped around a child that couldn’t be more than ten years old, the other brandishing three long claw-like blades that appeared to be growing from his knuckles. Less than a few feet away a young woman bearing striking resemblance to the young child was clutching a bloodied hand, tears streaming down her face.

The Stain copycat looked down the car, a sadistic Cheshire grin plastered across his face. He raised his blade wielding hand towards you, blood wicking off the blade.

“A hero!” He squeezed the struggling boy tighter against him. “Come and do your job!”

You scanned the car looking for a visible spot of floor to land that wasn’t directly in range of the villain. A brief gap in the crowd appears and you phased out of the world, erupting in a cloud of swirling purple smoke. In another puff of smoke, you appeared crouched in the ground where you’d managed find a gap in the passengers. You got to your feet quickly and began pulling passengers behind you as you marched towards the villain.

When you breached the other side of the crowd you stopped and took in the situation again. The boy’s mother was closer than you had originally thought, this made things more difficult but not impossible. The boy was bleeding from a scratch across his cheek but given how fiercely he was struggling to get away there didn’t seem to be any fast-acting poisons or paralytics on the blade. That meant you could stand to take a few hits if need be. You need to separate him from the boy, once the boy is free he’ll run to his mom who’ll put distance between them both and the villain.

The crowd behind you was beginning to settle, with nowhere to go for the next few minutes they could do nothing but cling to each other and hope you kept them safe. That silent hope pushed up against your back, there was no turning back and there was no escape for you. That wall held you right there, in the line of fire so others didn’t have to be. And though you trembled, and fear was burning through your guts, you knew you couldn’t be anywhere but here.

I chose this. You reminded yourself just like you had to do every night you woke from the terror of your dreams.

You launched yourself forward in a puff of smoke, in another reappearing at chest height. With one arm you grabbed the bladed hand, missing his wrist and grabbing down on his fist and the root of the blades. With the other arm you shoved the villain back with a solid elbow to the sternum. You crashed into him, quickly pulling backwards to let the boy wiggle away from the two of you. You trailed him as he scrambled to his mom who scooped him up and fell back into the crowd.

You took your eyes off of your opponent for too long and a fist connected with your jaw. The world sparked white then black and you stumbled back into the bench. You steadied yourself and blinked your eyes clear. The villain shoved off the wall of the train and lunged towards you, you through yourself sideways and rolled. He collided with the window, the double-paned glass crackling under his weight.

You glanced at the passengers as they flinched away from the fight and that wall of hope hit you again. You couldn’t allow the fight to spill over onto them, this was between you and the copycat hero killer.

The man groaned and he pushed off the window, the whine of the broken glass giving you an idea. You jumped to your feet and in a puff of smoke were standing with you back to the window directly across from you opponent. He growled and his other hand began to ooze blood as three more metal claws sprouted from his knuckles. With both taloned hands shoved forwards, he launched himself forwards again, this time you jumped up grabbing onto the ceiling railing. You swung yourself forward over his head as he burst through the glass, an ice-cold wind ripping through the train car. You kicked off the ceiling swinging back into him. In one swift movement the two of you went through the window, one of his flailing arms catching your ribs as you both plummeted off the train bridge.

You kicked off of him and looked around panicked, the only surfaces you could see from here were the underside of the bridge and the riverbanks which were just out of phasing distance. The best you could do for yourself now was make the fall to the water shorter, so you looked down and focused on the top of the water. In a puff of smoke, you hit the water, the surface shattering against your body with a loud clap.

***

You winced as the nurse tied off another suture. It wasn’t that it hurt with the anesthetic salve, but more the uncomfortable feeling of the tugging needle. You had needed six stitches in your hand and twenty-four in your abdomen. The nurse gave you a final wipe down and wrapped your hand up with bandages. Just as she was cleaning up her station there was a soft knock at the door. You looked over your shoulder to find Shota, hair tied up in a bun, leaning on the door frame. He held two coffees, one in a paper cup with steam rising off the top and the other filled with ice and cream.

“Hey.” He greeted casually, stepping into the room.

Your heart fluttered at the sound of that soothing voice, so calm and warm. He handed you the iced coffee and pulled up the stool the nurse had been sitting in when she was stitching you up. You took the coffee with your good hand and placed it on the examiners bed and reached out towards him again. His hand instantly found yours again before he even settled into his seat.

“I was filled in a little bit by the police but what exactly happened?” He asked, using your hand as an anchor to pull himself closer on the rolling stool.

“Oh, you know.” You sighed. You hadn’t seen Shota in person in nearly two weeks and you didn’t want to spend what little amount of time you had with him talking about the bad things in the world. “Hero stuff.”

“Hero stuff, huh?” Shota grinned and perked an eyebrow. He planted a kiss on the back of your hand and laughed into your clasped hands. “Well, I’m a hero and I’ve never thrown myself out of a moving train window.”

“And I’ve never raided a Yakuza den.” You smiled cheekily. “What interesting lives we both live.”

Shota was good at reading between the lines, he could tell you didn’t want to talk about what had happened. Since he stood to gain nothing from hearing about the attack at the immediate moment he let it go, instead he chuckled with you and rubbed circles in the back of your hand with his thumb. He only needed to make sure of one thing, everything else could wait. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I’ll heal up fine.”

Shota’s eyes went from sleepy and calming to searching and intense. You looked away; you didn’t like what he was looking for. He put down his coffee and grabbed your chin, his hand still warm from holding the cup. He turned you towards him and said nothing, his eyes boring into your own. Shota has always been the more intense one out of the three of you, always more pensive and serious. He was able to reach depths in you no one was able to, even Hizashi.

You couldn’t look away from him, that would be admitting something was wrong. But if you looked into his eyes any longer you knew you’d end up telling him eventually. He was a tricky bastard who knew exactly how to get through your walls. Your eyes started to burn with tears, and you tried to blink them away but instead they began to fall. Shota softened instantly, both hands cupping your face and pulling you into his chest.

“I missed you.” You whimpered into his chest. “The apartment is so empty, now.”

Shota clutched you closer to him, resting his chin on your head. You felt small against him, like a piece fitting into the rest of the puzzle. This felt right, felt safe. You had missed this. He held you for a while, the smell of coffee and laundry detergent wafting over you.

“Hizashi is at home, he’s been freaking out.” Shota whispered into your hair, eventually.

“It’s just a few stitches.” You mumbled, still holding onto his chest.

“Thirty is more than a few.” Shota chortled. “Someone posted a video online of you chucking yourself out a window and one of his students showed him before the hospital even called us.”

You pulled away and looked up at Shota. His eyes were sleepy and glossed over now, oozing with affection. His lazy smirk sent a shiver through you as you straightened yourself out. “You make it sound like I did it for fun! I can teleport, you know.”

Shota grinned and stood up kissing you on the forehead. “That’s why I stopped to get coffee on the way here, I know you’re too crazy to die.”

“Thanks, I feel sufficiently loved.”

***

Hands were on you the moment you walked into the apartment. Hizashi nearly broke a few of your stitches from hugging you. He refused to let go to the point that Shota had to run to the kitchen to grab a pot that had begun to boil over. He peppered you with kisses, and in between each one he scolded you for launching yourself from a window.

According to Hizashi he’s nearly had a heart attack, an aneurysm and a stroke all thanks to you. He was the worrier out of the two boys, always finding it hard to rationalize his way out of fear. He knew, like Shota, that you were a pro hero and that you could teleport and that you could handle yourself. Where the rationale stopped was when you flew out of a window and he had to imagine what happened next. After the attack at the JSW Hizashi had become a little less carefree when it came to you and Shota. Shota was the one who never got hurt, who could take on anything and make it out. After nearly losing him, you hadn’t been the only one having trouble sleeping.

After an ample amount of fussing you found yourself sandwiched between Shota and Hizashi, a warm meal in your belly and the TV quietly playing some reruns of a show you and Hizashi had watched while it was still running. Shota was snoring something fierce, his head drooped back over the back of the couch. One of his arms loosely wrapped around your shoulders and you curled up into his side. Hizashi was hugging your legs that draped across his lap and leaning his head on Shota’s hand that draped over your shoulder.

This is how it was meant to be. This apartment was meant to be filled with snores and bad television, with burning pots of food and the three of you curled up into each other. What had happened today, and the fear you felt had already melted away. As you drifted to sleep, Shota’s steady heartbeat lulled you to unconsciousness, and nothing but sleep came to you. For the first time in two weeks there were no echoes of screaming civilians or crying victims. You saw no whispers of fire and blood in the shadowy corners of the apartment. For the first time in two weeks you had a dreamless sleep.

***

You woke to bright streams of light shining across your face and a warm purring cat at sharing your pillow. You had been moved to your bed at some point during the night and stripped of your pants a sweater. Sushi swatted at your stray hairs, catching your head a few times before you lifted him off the pillow. You squished him against your chest, which he accepted for a grand total of thirty seconds before mewing in melodramatic agony. You kissed him on the nose and let him go, watching him dart off the mattress and out the room like it was a prison break.

“You’re awake!” Hizashi sang from the living room. He hopped through the doorway and strode towards the bed, leaning down to give you a chaste good morning kiss.

“You’re here?” You asked. If the sun had made it high enough to shine through the window and hit you then he and Shota should have definitely been gone for work by now.

“Yeah?” Hizashi cocked his head to the side. “Should I not be?”

“Why aren’t you at work?”

He smiled at you; it was a weird smile. It was sweet and made you feel warm, but it was also a little melancholy like a secret apology tugged at his heart. He took a seat on the edge of the bed and ran a hand through your hair. Hizashi, though loud and hyperactive most of the time, could also be so gentle and sweet.

“You can’t lift your arms above your head without tearing out your stitches, love. One of us is going to stay here with you until you can get them taken out.” Your heart skipped a beat.

“Really?” You couldn’t help the excitement that leaked through to the surface. “You guys are staying here?”

“Don’t get too excited, we’ll annoy the shit out of you soon enough.” He grinned and stood up. “Now I need your advice.”

“On what?” you asked as he took his phone out and began typing furiously. He looked at you, with the utmost seriousness and sprung backwards over your legs onto the mattress.

“A song.”

“A song?”

“Yes, a student showed it to me. She says it’s a bop,I need your opinion as to if I should play it on my radio show next week.”

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sophygurl · 6 years ago

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Dirty Dancing

I had a hankering to watch one of my old favorites today - one I’ve seen hundreds of times and that’s not an exaggeration. I probably watched it one hundred times alone the first summer it was on HBO and I recorded it - I’m guessing 1988 since it came out in 87?

Anyway - the short version of this post is simply that I’m pretty sure Dirty Dancing is a big part of my bisexuality and polyamorousness like. I’m sorry but Baby falls for Penny as much as Johnny and you can’t convince me otherwise and they would make an excellent throuple. And my little hetnormative-trained 13 year old brain didn’t KNOW that was a big draw of the movie for me but it was because the scenes between the three of them were my favorites - especially the dance training montage scenes where they’re all dancing together oh my HEART. But also just like you see so clearly how Baby is crushing on them both so much in those beginning stages and SOMETHING ABOUT THAT SPOKE TO MY LIL TEENAGE HEART OKAY?

So but the longer version is that I still love every single bit of this damned movie (2 minor exceptions - when Baby says “I’m not proud of myself” in her emotional monologue to her dad? I’d take that out. And also I wish the mom had just a smidge more agency but I also get that the lack of agency for the women was a big part of the story- hence these only being slight exceptions).

But okay yes. The movie? Is hella fun with a kicking soundtrack and amazing dancing and acting and Grey and Swayze have chemistry coming out of their whazoodles and I’d throw Rhodes in there too and all of that is fun and sexy and romantic and nostalgic (now for TWO decades since it kinda melds 60′s and 80′s stuff together in some ways).

You know what else though? It’s also just an amazing movie with incredible peeks into the sexism and classism of the era, and especially the intersection of the two. It explores both upper and lower class women’s roles and how both lower class men and women were treated. Swayze’s Johnny Castle is treated like a sexual object and expected to have sex with the upper class women who are being neglected by their husbands (interesting to note that the entertainment staff was forbidden to socialize with the daughters but expected to sex up the older ladies and the more educated upper class staff were expected to romance but not have sex with the daughters of the guests).

Then there’s Penny and the whole pregnancy/abortion storyline and how Robbie treats both her and Baby’s sister Lisa - spoiler alert he treats them both horribly but in different ways. The mom has almost no agency. Baby thinks she has it, but you can clearly see the difference between when she’s with her family or with fellow upper class Neil and when she’s with Johnny and Penny and Billy - she blossoms into this whole new wonderful person with new insights and opinions about the world because she’s finally seeing outside of the bubble of her family and class.

The movie does entirely ignore race issues, which is unfortunate. But I’m also guessing that is partly due to the setting - the vacationers would all have been upper class white folk and it seems most of the staff would have been as well. The band leader is a black man, but I think that’s it? IDK if that would have been indicative of the times or not, but it seems like the movie could have figured race into things if it had wanted to. The only other way it’s mentioned is when Neil says when the summer ends, he’s going to join the freedom riders. He seems to say this in order to impress Baby, who has shown she is concerned about social justice issues. And it comes off as a sort of privileged ally-cookie-quest. If Neil’s character did care about civil rights, it was not reflected in the way he treated the lower class staff at his uncle’s resort.

Despite this lack, however, the movie does a pretty decent job looking at this intersection of gender and class. The way Baby was raised to believe she could change the world, and that this meant she should care about everyone regardless of things like race and class - but then quickly learned that her family (particularly her father) meant she should do these things in a more dignified and distanced way. They sort of humor her ideas of joining the peace corp and studying the economics of undeveloped countries - but the idea of befriending the entertainment staff at the resort is *gasp* Scandal!!

But because Baby believed in those ideals she was raised with, and hadn’t yet learned the reality of what her parents expected of her - she plows right in and befriends these people whose dancing skill she so admires. She falls in love with dance, and with the people themselves (*ahem* Johnny AND Penny here) and with their easy way of being with one another.

She rushes in to help wherever and whenever she can, but is still ashamed of her association and hides it from her family. This new world she’s discovered is a sort of guilty secret, and especially so once her relationship with Johnny becomes sexual in nature (AND CAN WE TALK ABOUT HOW MUCH AGENCY SHE HAD IN THAT FIRST SEX SCENE LIKE SHE IS JUST GOING ON ABOUT HOW IMPORTANT HE IS TO HER, STARTS TO DANCE WITH HIM, GRABS HIS ASS, AND IS JUST LIKE - YEA BABY LET’S GO!).

So okay, she’s having teh sex and doing teh dance and making teh friends - but it’s still a secret because her family would find it shameful. Does this stop her when she finds out that Johnny is about to be blamed and fired for the theft? SHIT NO it does not! She jumps in to tell the whole world (well okay her family and the Kellerman’s and some other folks in the dining room at the time) that she slept with him that night so he couldn’t have stolen the wallet so THERE!

And of course he gets fired anyway (I guess for defiling a rich girl? Blech.) but like. When he comes to find her and is all “nobody has ever stood up for me like that! ever!” - I die a little inside because this poor guy has been so beaten down that he doesn’t think he’s good for anything when what WE know about him is that he 1) totally stands by and protects his female bff (possible triad member???? shhh sophy we’re doing a thing here) no matter what and 2) he loves Baby so much because he sees all this good in her and he doesn’t think he deserves her but he is so proud of her and UGH 3) he stops taking the rich guy’s money to sex up his wife because Baby had finally convinced him he was better than that and 4) he works super hard all the time just to make ends meet but would Still have given Penny all his money to help her out and 5) GDI NEIL HE DOESN’T WANNA DO THE PACACHANGA!

All of this culminates when he comes back in and is all “Nobody puts Baby in a corner!” - which is such an epic and cool line but is also super cheesy and a bit nonsensical??? But what he means, really, is that in that moment he sees this woman that he loves sitting quietly in the corner with her parents who are suppressing this passionate and compassionate side of her (well mostly her dad her poor mom doesn’t wtf is going on) and he knows - okay - Johnny Castle KNOWS that Fances Baby Houseman is a fucking STAR okay and he is going to show the whole world (well all of the Kellerman guests and staff anyway) what she can do! PHEW.

So like. Yea, the movie is fun as shit for a lot of reasons. But it’s also so real and vital and important for more reasons than just this one gal’s bisexual/poly pre-awakening (it took another 5-10 years to fully get it - this was the 80′s/90′s in Wisconsin alright we didn’t have the internet back then to explain our sexualities to us!)

I don’t have a nice concluding thesis for this rambly meta except to say that I hope you enjoyed it and also I once again scared the crap out of my cats by singing and dancing a lot - they think singing means I’m sad and lonely so they come to comfort me because they call out and howl when they’re sad and lonely. They are so lovely to come and comfort me but the dancing and singing combo really freaks them out like what are you Doing lady - lady we’re scared - what’s happening? Are you ill??? Should we ... how do .. do cats call 911???

#dirty dancing #dirty dancing meta #frances houseman #johnny castle #penny johnson #bisexuality #polyamory #poly ships #intersectionality #i just love this movie a whole lot for a whole lot of reasons #why do i not have this on dvd #wtf #my birthday is in 5 months #just fyi #no real reason

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