#one day when i find the motivation to actually finish any of these it's over for you hoes

[thetiniestpasta]

11k word document full of unfinished really specific stories about three idiots in love my beloved

[dancingbirdie]

Okay so on Astarion, I was reading this fic about him not knowing Tavs true intentions with him and it bothering Astarion a lot, so what if he goes to some mage or magic user and asks them to show Tavs true intentions to him, when he does the vision he sees is just... being snuggled. It's Tav on top of him and the both of you are falling asleep, his hands are under your shirt softly petting your skin as your sleepy self is contently snuggled up to him. I just start crying about him finding out that Tavs DASTARDLY and EVIL plan with him, their greatest desire from him... is to simply be held. 🥺

Hi @goblin-creatcher! Thank you so much for this BEAUTIFUL prompt. I, uhh, kind of took it and went a million miles an hour with it. This is honestly one of my favorite things I've ever written. I hope you enjoy it as well! xoxoxo

Something Imagined / Something Real

Word Count: 3.9K

Rating: Mature

Pairing: Astarion x f!Tav

Warnings/Tags: Brief but detailed description of rough consensual sex, descriptions and references to Astarion's trauma/trauma responses, minor Act 1 and Act 2 spoilers, FLUFF, angst

Suggested Song Pairing: Slow Dancing in A Burning Room (Stripped) - cover by ST LUNA

Summary: Astarion has been suspicious of Tav’s true intentions toward him. He persuades Gale to cast a spell and reveal her motivations. ANGST and FLUFF ensue. A rewriting of Astarion’s confession scene from Act 2.

The sun had just begun to set on the campsite when Astarion decided to put his plan into action. He had waited until Tav departed with some of the other party members before making his way over to the wizard. Gale was too busy reassembling the bookshelf inside his tent to notice Astarion’s approach. It wasn’t until he gave a polite cough that Gale jumped and whirled to face him. 

“No, no, no,” he began all at once, hands raised in a sort of shooing motion. Astarion stared at him in confusion. “I can respect Tav’s indulging in your need for blood, but as I’ve said before: I taste terrible.” 

Astarion scoffed. “Charming. Actually, wizard, I was coming to request your aid in a different, though somewhat related, matter.”

“Really? Care to elaborate?” Gale responded, still somewhat wary. It wasn’t often he found himself alone with the vampire. 

“Testy, I see,” Astarion crooned teasingly. His knee-jerk response to people treating him like a monster, to behave in the most false saccharine sort of way. 

But he drew up short, censoring himself before saying anything else he might regret. He knew he needed to get on the wizard’s good side if he had any chance of getting the answers he sought. 

“I was hoping you knew a spell to reveal someone’s true intentions. Their… motivations for behaving in a certain way, so to speak,” he finished more seriously. 

Gale pondered the question for a moment before answering. 

“Hmm… yes, there is magic to determine that sort of thing… Although it’s been some time since I practiced it…” He trailed off, rubbing his chin in thought. 

“Why are you asking for such a thing?” he asked suddenly. 

Astarion had been prepared for this question, of course. No one did anything for free, no questions asked. He delivered his explanation perfectly, as he’d been rehearsing in his mind.

“One might say our dear sweet Tav and I have been growing a bit… closer these days, but I can sense a master manipulator when I see one. I just simply want to ensure their intentions toward me - toward the party - are true,” he replied with mock innocence. 

“Ah, yes,” Gale nodded. “I gathered as much when the two of you slipped away from the tiefling’s party a few nights ago.” 

“But,” he continued on,”I needn’t think you should worry when it comes to Tav. She seems about as transparent as they come. I’m sure any intentions she has toward you are true.”

Yes, but the best actors always mask their motivations behind innocence and transparency, Astarion thought to himself. I should know. I’ve been doing it for centuries.

After the party’s unfortunate meeting with that Gur in the Sunlit Wetlands, Astarion realized he would have to take potential threats from Cazador even more seriously. He wasn’t about to lose his freedom, not now that he finally had some small taste of it. 

It didn’t hurt to be more suspicious of everyone he encountered, even the sweetling Tav. Anyone could be an operative sent by Cazador, and the best ones would be as skilled as he was in the art of manipulation. It was well-known at this point that the person he’d grown the closest to on their journey was their brave party leader, Tav. Unlikely as it may be that she was scheming for his master, Astarion’s paranoia wouldn’t let him indulge in interactions with her a second longer unless he knew how she truly felt. 

Given Gale’s hesitation, Astarion knew he would have to kick his acting up a notch. Press on that wizard’s heartstrings. Touch the one nerve he knew he was sensitive to.

“Gale, darling, from one literally damaged soul to another, indulge me just this once,” Astarion beseeched him. 

The wizard glared at him a moment, before finally relenting with a heavy sigh. “Fine. Fine. But I want it known that I don’t agree with this so-called solution one whit,” he grumbled, pinching the bridge of his nose. 

“Yes, yes, noted and formally documented, on my word as a former Baldurian magistrate,” Astarion replied cheerily. “So, let’s hop to it then, shall we?”

“What, right now?” Gale asked, shocked. “Shouldn’t we be, I don’t know, a little less conspicuous?” 

“What better time than now?” Astarion responded. “Tav’s out gathering firewood with Wyll and Karlach. They won’t be back for some time. As for Lae’zel and Shadowheart, well…” he paused, gesturing over his shoulder. 

Said two were engaged in a heated sparring session on the outskirts of the camp. Snarls and curses could be heard emanating from both warriors as they tried, and failed, to gain the upper hand against their opponent.

“That lovers’ dance could go on until morning,” Astarion finished. 

“Fair point,” Gale admitted begrudgingly, grimacing at the sound of swords clashing violently. “Very well. Let’s get started.” 

Clearing his throat, Gale began to utter a series of phrases completely foreign to Astarion. He watched as the wizard began moving his hands in a wavelike pattern, forming a circle before them. Suddenly, a mist began to form from seemingly thin air, taking shape according to the boundaries Gale’s hands were creating. The mist grew more and more opaque until it appeared before them like a clouded mirror. 

As the fogginess of the ethereal magic began to clear, the “mirror” became a confusing blur of scenes whipping by, too fast for Astarion or Gale to really comprehend. There were flashes of Tav and Astarion, together and separate, but they disappeared too quickly to ascertain their context. It was as though the spell was shuffling through the entirety of Tav’s thoughts, assessing each one at breakneck speed. 

Finally, the spell slowed to a halt, stopping on one scene in particular. Astarion was struck speechless by what began playing out in the foggy portal before them. So distracted, he didn’t even notice Gale’s tight cough, or how the wizard suddenly became intensely interested in a copse of trees nearby, rather than the revelation the spell was revealing.

Not that the scene was especially profound, objectively speaking. In fact, to anyone else, it might be viewed as the least revelatory thing possible that the spell could have shown. Boring. Inconsequential, even. But to Astarion, it was almost earth shattering. 

He saw himself - he could see his face! - with Tav, lying tangled together in some immaculate four-poster bed. 

That was the first shock that coursed through him, nearly causing his knees to buckle. He was seeing himself for the first time in over 200 years. Or at least, he was seeing himself as Tav saw him. And… the person he saw… Well, he was gorgeous. White blonde locks, curled and tousled in a devil-may-care sort of way. A strong, patrician nose that suggested good breeding. High, sharp cheekbones. Full lips, upturned in a thoughtless grin. Red eyes bordered by long, sweeping lashes. Delicately pointed elven ears. Smooth alabaster skin, without blemish or spot. 

Astarion could scarcely believe his own eyes. 

The second shock to his system was the nature of their activities. He would have been less surprised had the vision shown them fucking. Him taking her roughly from behind perhaps. His name a cry of ecstasy from her lips as he pistoned in and out of her with a feral sort of determination. 

Fantasies of lust, of total domination, now those were things he was familiar with inspiring in the minds of the victims he had taken as lovers. It was what he strove for, in all honesty. Desire like that all but ensured he would capture his prey and live to serve another day for his master. 

But nothing of the sort was occurring between vision-Tav and himself. Instead, they were just… embracing? What in sweet hells was this?

She lay halfway on top of him. Her hair was mussed, perhaps from sleep or perhaps from previous lovemaking. One hand was drawing absentminded shapes across his chest, her lips trailing behind, leaving kisses in their wake. He watched as vision-Astarion chuckled softly, as his hands slipped beneath her sleepshirt to caress her waist, as he placed an innocent kiss on the top of Tav’s head. Eventually, she reached for his hand. They both watched their fingers intertwine, blissfully content.

It was the purest, unadulterated expression of affection that Astarion had ever seen. Something in his heart quaked at the sight of it. He wanted that moment. He envied, he hated, vision-Astarion for enjoying such apparent happiness.

So absorbed in the vision and its implications, Astarion failed to notice the soft padding of feet that indicated someone’s re-entry into the camp. 

“If the two of you are quite finished poking around in my head,” an angry voice suddenly spat from behind them, “I’d appreciate you preserving what little privacy I have left and shutting that damn spell off.”

Mortified, Astarion and Gale turned to see Tav, arms crossed and visibly seething with rage. Gale quickly dispelled the magic with a flick of his wrist. A blush was slowly but surely rising up Tav’s neck to reach her cheeks. Whether from rage or embarrassment, Astarion couldn’t be certain. 

“Tav, let us explain-” Astarion started.

“It was his idea-” Gale blurted at the same time, pointing at Astarion. 

Both paused, glaring at one another. But Tav would have none of their feeble attempts at backpedaling. 

“The explanation doesn’t matter. Whose idea it was doesn’t matter. The fact is that both of you violated the privacy of my mind, which I’ll remind you, has ALREADY been violated by having a bloody tadpole forced inside of it!” Tav shouted. At their words, the camp became enveloped in a heavy silence. Even the crickets ceased their chirping.

Astarion cringed inwardly, knowing the other party members could plainly hear this altercation and had likely stopped whatever it was that they had been doing to listen in. He noted the sounds of swords clanging together had ceased. He was certain Lae’zel and Shadowheart at least were aware of what was happening. Nosy bastards, all of them.

But what disturbed him even more was the realization that Tav’s eyes were welling with tears. She was too proud to acknowledge them or wipe them away. Such was her nature. But they were there nonetheless, and the knowledge that Astarion had brought her to the point of tears was enough to spur a rush of utter self-loathing inside him.

Without another word, Tav turned on her heel and marched stiffly out of camp, toward the direction of a nearby creek they’d identified as a water source earlier in the day.

“I can’t believe I let you convince me to perform that spell,” Gale said as she disappeared between the trees. He dragged his hands down his face. 

“How could we have been so doltish, forgetting that all of our privacies have already been violated with this tadpole business?”

Astarion didn’t have an answer to that. At least, not one the wizard could possibly understand. 

The thought hadn’t occurred to Astarion, he realized, because violations of privacy had been something so intrinsic to his being for over 200 years. He didn’t even recognize it as something abnormal. Like a fish unaware that the water surrounding it is, in fact, water. 

Violations of privacy were a part of life, at least for him. So much so that his request for Gale to perform that magic hadn’t even occurred to him as an overstepping of boundaries. To Astarion, it had simply been a matter of survival. He had needed to know another potentially manipulative person’s true intentions, and so he had found a means to uncover it and maintain the upper hand. 

Belatedly, he also realized that Gale’s hesitation to cast the spell had had nothing to do with being inconvenienced for the evening, but because the wizard had known that it was improper to do to another person. If he had misread that, Astarion wondered, then what other truly benevolent behaviors had he mistaken as pragmatic manipulation?

“I need to go find her,” Astarion murmured, clenching and unclenching his fists in an uncharacteristic fit of uncertainty. 

“Yes, you do,” Gale asserted. “We both owe her a sincere apology… if she’ll even accept it.”

“I’ll see if I can convince her to come back to camp,” Astarion replied, making to leave in the direction Tav had stormed off. 

“Wait,” Gale said, a hand on his shoulder. Astarion turned to meet his gaze. 

“Look, well, I’m obviously not an expert in healthy demonstrations of affection. But I do think it’s obvious from what you saw in that spell that Tav well and truly cares about you. In perhaps the purest way possible. Treat that carefully.”

Part of Astarion wanted to laugh aloud in utter hopelessness at the wizard’s advice. Someone cared for him? Truly and purely? No hidden games, no strings attached? Oh certainly, that wouldn’t be a problem for Astarion at all. Obviously, his 200-year existence as a master-manipulator-fetch-hound for a power-hungry vampire lord had perfectly prepared him to respond to this situation in a healthy manner. Obviously.

But all that was too much to reveal to someone he barely knew and too heavy to say aloud. Rather than giving some smarmy retort, Astarion opted instead to give a stiff nod and continue walking toward the edge of camp. He had no idea how he could make things right with Tav, but at the very least he could try. 

***

He found Tav sitting on a fallen tree near the edge of the creek bed. Her legs were drawn up to her chest, arms wrapped around them as she rested a cheek to her knees. In the waning twilight, she reminded Astarion of some misbegotten gargoyle perched on the roof of a temple, solitary and so very sad. 

Her ears twitched as she noted his arrival. Astarion wasn’t trying to be stealthy. On top of everything else, the last thing he needed to do was scare her. 

“Can I join you?” he asked softly, wincing to himself at the awkwardness of the question. 

The reality was that there was no way to broach this conversation without some stilted beginning, and he hated it. Navigating tricky conversations was normally something he excelled at. But as he was quickly finding, when it related to Tav, nothing in his past life had prepared him to respond to her well. 

“If you’d like,” Tav answered tonelessly. 

Knowing it was probably the best response he was going to get, Astarion swallowed thickly and moved to sit down on the log next to her. 

“I… wanted to… apologize for what you saw, back at camp,” he began.

“Apologize for doing it, or apologize for getting caught?” Tav asked as she turned her head to look at him, resting her other cheek on her knees. 

Astarion balked at the question. Her piercing gaze unnerved him. He hadn’t really thought that far. 

“Both, I suppose?” he answered honestly, although it sounded more like a question to Tav. She huffed a laugh.

“You know, part of me really wants to yell at you. Scream in your face. Tell you off proper,” she mused.

“So why don’t you?” Astarion asked, perplexed. 

Tav didn’t respond at first, just sat there studying him. As if by staring at him long enough, she could project the answer into his mind. 

Astarion didn’t interrupt her, much as he would have liked to. Part of him always bristled when people gazed at him for too long. It was unfair that they could study him, when he hadn’t been able to so much as glance at his reflection in over 200 years. 

Finally, Tav released a heavy sigh, her body curling further in on itself. She closed her eyes as she spoke.

“Because then I would be just like every other bastard in your life who’s mistreated you.”

Astarion flinched in surprise. Those had not been the sort of words he’d been expecting. The truth of them cut deeper than had she raged at him like she wanted to. It left him feeling even more vulnerable, and that in turn made him want to retreat into the comfort of viciousness.

“I don’t need you to pull any punches,” he scoffed, glaring at her. “Go ahead and say what you will.”

She straightened up at his tone, opening her eyes and returning his glare. 

“No. I don’t want to,” she said testily.

“I don’t need your pity,” he hissed. “It’s insulting.”

“Gods damn it all, Astarion!” Tav exclaimed suddenly, causing him to jump in surprise. She threw her hands up in defeat. “I’m not doing anything out of pity! I don’t want to rage at you, because I know that whatever I say right now, I won’t mean it come the morning!”

Astarion blinked. Once again he was left feeling flat footed by the turn of the conversation. Sensing his surprise, Tav continued on with her deluge of words.

“You hurt me tonight, and I’m angry at you - and at Gale, for that matter - for what you did. But you’ve shared enough of your… history… with me, that I realize your behavior is just… just a byproduct of centuries of abuse and manipulation you’ve endured! And I won’t be another abuser in your life. I won’t,” she asserted. 

Astarion continued staring at her, as if she were some otherworldly creature that had just wandered across his path. He watched as Tav inhaled a deep breath, releasing it shakily. She turned away from him to peer out into the forest, uncertain. She opened and closed her mouth several times before actually speaking. As if whatever she was about to say was more intimidating to her than anything else she’d said tonight. 

“I… care deeply for you, Astarion,” she said quietly. “You obviously saw that in the vision. I’m not playing any games. There’s no hidden motive. I’m not trying to manipulate you.”

She turned to look at him again before continuing, her breathing a bit unsteady. 

“I didn’t sleep with you that night of the tiefling party as some sort of maneuver to gain your trust. Although I understand if that was your motivation for doing so.” 

Astarion’s expression morphed into one of guilt. But Tav nodded soberly, as if she had already expected it, before continuing on. 

“It’s okay. I’m not angry. But I’m putting all my cards on the table now, so to speak. Actually, your decision tonight forced my hand, but I had been planning on telling you soon anyway. So, there you have it. The truth of my intentions. What you do with that information is up to you.”

She turned back to gaze out at their surroundings. Like she was giving him the opportunity to bolt away without her watching him. As if she expected him to flee from her confession. 

But Astarion didn’t flee. He remained seated, staring at her in complete wonderment. 

“Why?” he asked quietly.

She looked back at him again, confusion evident on her face. 

“Why what?”

“Why do you care for me? You’re so… well-adjusted. And I’m well… this,” he finished lamely, placing a hand on his chest. 

Tav pursed her lips. “It would be a mistake to misconstrue my empathy for you as me being well-adjusted. Everyone has their own demons, Astarion,” she murmured. “Mine just look different from yours.”

Astarion mulled her words over in his mind, considering them. He leaned forward to brace his forearms on his knees, his head drooping slightly. 

“I…,” he started, unsure. “That vision… what it implied… You deserve something real, Tav. You’re incredible… truly.” 

Tav closed her eyes, bracing for the fallout. Even though she would accept his decision, whatever it was, she didn’t think she could bear to watch him deny her. It would hurt too much. 

“Look. When we met, I had a plan. A nice, simple plan,” he blurted all at once. Rising swiftly to his feet, Tav watched as he began to pace before her, near to bursting with frenetic energy. 

“Seduce you, sleep with you, manipulate your feelings so you’d never turn on me,” he counted off, laughing half-heartedly. “It was… easy - instinctive. Habits from two hundred years of charming people kicked in. All you had to do was fall for it. And all I had to do… was not fall for you… which is where my nice, simple plan fell apart,” he finished, stopping to stand before her. 

She held his gaze, speechless. 

“I want you,” he whispered fervently. “I want what was in that vision… I want us to be something real.”

Never in a million years had she thought he would respond to her like this. She opened her mouth to speak, but Astarion cut her off with another sudden exclamation. 

“I just don’t know what real is,” he confessed, his tone a touch hysterical. Tav knew from his body language that being this transparent was completely out of Astarion’s comfort zone. 

“Being… close to someone - any kind of intimacy - was something I performed to lure people back. For him. Even though I know things between us are different, being with someone still feels… tainted. Still brings up those feelings of disgust, and loathing. I… I don’t know how else to be with someone. No matter how much I’d like to,” he finished, staring at her with beseeching eyes, willing her to understand.

Tav rose to her feet, coming to stand before him. 

“I don’t want you for your body,” she whispered. “Or to perform any acts of intimacy. We can be together, without sleeping together, for as long as you need.”

“Really,” he asked softly, his voice pitched low, rough with emotion.

“Really,” Tav asserted, giving him a small smile. “Would it be all right if…” she paused, conflicted. He eyed her curiously.

“Could I hug you?” she whispered.

The fact that she asked before doing so caused a well of emotion to spring up inside him. Eyes watering, Astarion nodded. 

Slowly, Tav moved forward to wrap her arms around his waist. Her head nestled into the crook of his neck and shoulder. A perfect fit. He felt her exhale a deep sigh.

Tav hugging him was a sensation unlike any he had ever felt. At least, any he could remember feeling. The act of being touched, embraced, without any desire for something more. She just wanted to hold him, feel him close to her. It was incomprehensible to him, but utterly enjoyable, at the same time. 

Slowly, ever so slowly, Astarion raised his arms to return Tav’s embrace. Drawing her even closer, he bowed his head to rest his cheek against her hair. It was soft, like the finest silk. He closed his eyes as he inhaled deeply, appreciating her sweet, floral scent.   

She made to pull away after a moment, not wishing to overwhelm him. But Astarion gripped her more firmly, a silent urge for them to stay that way a little longer. 

“This… this is nice,” he whispered. 

He both felt and heard Tav hum contentedly in response. 

It wasn’t identical to the vision from Tav’s mind that he had seen, but Astarion reveled in their embrace nonetheless. It felt like the beginning of something new. And for the first time in his very, very long life, Astarion felt excited at the prospects of what would come next. 

[0cta9on]

Today

Length: 1.3k

Genre: Fluff

IVE Liz x Male Reader

(Author's Note: Motivation is hard to come by these days, I hope you can forgive my lack of frequent updates. For the sake of my mental health, please imagine that Liz's eyes are the slightest bit of gray, I swear they look gray but they could easily by colored contacts :> Enjoy <3)

【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★【☆】★

It’s a Tuesday evening. Tuesdays always seemed like an awkward time of the week—way better than Mondays obviously, but still too far away from the weekend for any real excitement to build. The trees outside sway with the oncoming breeze, flecks of autumnal browns and golds dancing against the current before gently landing on the ground. The spontaneity of their movements reminds you of a certain someone that’s running a couple minutes late.

You take another sip of your coffee, warming and pleasant, as your gaze stays glued to the windowpane of the cafe, scanning each passing visage for a semblance of familiarity. You never had this habit before knowing her. In a past life, you kept your head down, too sheepish to look most people in the eye. Yet now, you're actively searching for the eyes of strangers, waiting until you see that glimpse of gray like the sky before a storm.

It’s a little creepy, you admit, but a billion weird glances are worth it for that split second where your eyes meet and you feel light as a feather, like the autumn breeze could carry you away with the leaves.

Across the street, the crowd splits like curtains at the start of the play to reveal the star of the show—Liz, weaving through the crowd and wearing that same apologetic look that’s become an unofficial symbol for the start of your meetings.

“I’m so sorry for being late!” she says, her voice ringing alongside the jingle of the cafe’s door.

“It’s okay,” you chuckle. “I haven’t been waiting long.”

“Still,” she removes her scarf and drapes it against her chair, the same cyan checkered scarf you bought her last year after she lost her old one, “This is, like, the millionth time I’ve been late, I feel awful about it!”

Liz rests her head against the table in defeat and you fight every urge to pat her head and comfort her.

“It’s really okay, I swear. I don’t mind waiting a little longer for you,” you say.

A smile dances across her lips, and suddenly you’re floating. “You’re so sweet, you know that?”

Your heart pounds against the confines of your rib cage like a lovesick prisoner begging to be set free. You’ve always wondered how someone like her can exist on this planet. Someone so charming, so beautiful, so perfect in every way that her only flaw is her lack of time management. Irises like raging storm clouds, paired with the personality of a calm evening in the shade. The angle of her smile, the dimples that adorn her cheeks, the luscious waves of her hair—

“Hello?” Liz waves a hand in front of your face, bringing you back down to Earth. “Are you alright?”

“Y-yeah, yeah, sorry, I just, um… Anyways…” Timidly, you rummage through your backpack for the reason why you invited her here in the first place, taking a little extra time to calm your nerves. “H-here,” you mutter, producing a fairly hefty box from your bag.

“Ooooooh!” Her eyes excitedly glean over its matte finish. “Are these the noise-canceling headphones you were talking about yesterday?”

“Yeah, I was wondering if you could help me test them out,” you explain.

“Of course!” With an eager grin, Liz takes out the headphones and places them on her head. “Ready when you are!” she exclaims, flashing you a thumbs up.

Liz has this super power of somehow making even the most mundane tasks feel like you’re having the time of your life. As you fiddle with the bluetooth settings on your phone, you forget that it’s just another Tuesday, you forget about the countless pairs of eyes you scanned through earlier just to find hers, you forgot about the fact that you don’t actually need these headphones and only bought them as an excuse to spend time with her.

“There we go,” you say as you press play on a song. Almost immediately, Liz starts to shimmy her arms in a goofy looking dance as she mumbles along to the lyrics. You don’t even try to hide the smirk on your face. “Can you hear me?”

“Huh?” she utters a little too loud.

Chuckling, you decide to see if the headphones are as good as advertised. “What’s your favorite color?”

“Uh, my mother is at home right now, probably watching a show or something.”

“When’s your birthday?”

“Earl grey? I don’t know, I’m not much of a tea drinker.”

You keel over with laughter from her nonsensical answers while she continues to dance on like no one is watching.

Then, an inkling of an idea slips into your mind. The smile on your face fades as that idea begins to form into something new—an opportunity. What was once glee is now replaced with an anxious excitement. Your heartbeat overpowers all the background noise and all you can focus on is the gray highlighting her eyes.

The calm before the storm.

“Liz, I…” you start, voice shaky and laced with apprehension. It’s not too late to turn back and forget about this. And yet, Liz’s lack of a reaction to your change in tone calms your nerves the slightest amount. You take a deep breath and continue going.

“…I, uh, need to tell you something important. It’s been on my mind for a long while. Like, a year at this point, and, uh…”

A choppy sigh empties from your lungs. There’s no going back after this. As the last bit of oxygen brushes past your lips, you take in another mouthful of air and clamp your eyes shut.

“I like you, Liz. As more than a friend. I really, really like you.”

As soon as those words leave your mouth, you collapse face first into the table like a rickety bridge finally crumbling underneath its own weight. You did it. Sure, she didn’t hear a thing, but you finally vocalized what you’ve been keeping inside and that’s good enough for you. Maybe one day, you’ll finally build up the courage to say it when she can actually hear you. Maybe.

The sound of plastic hitting the table jolts you back up. “Oh right, how was it?” you ask, unable to meet her eyes.

“They, uh… good,” she mutters, uncharacteristically quiet. “I-I mean, they work good.”

“G-good. That’s good.” You grab the headphones from the table and put them back into their box, making sure to unpair them from your—

Your eyes grow wide as you double and triple check your phone screen. The headphones are already unpaired.

Your mind starts to race with a million questions, but only one echoes in your head—How long were they unpaired?

You shoot your gaze back up to Liz, her once milky white cheeks now stained with a bright pink hue. Your mouth opens to say something, but nothing comes out. It’s too late. You know what that reaction means. And you know what’s gonna come next.

“I-I should go,” you stutter, clumsily throwing your belongings into your backpack. How could you have been so reckless? Why didn’t you double check before attempting something as idiotic as this? You’ll have to move cities now, fake your death, create a new life on an undocumented island in the middle of the Pacific—

“I like you too.”

Her voice sounds so sweet and harmonious, you wonder if all the adrenaline pumping through your system is giving you auditory hallucinations. You’ve imagined similar scenarios to these countless times before, but to hear her actually speak those words and mean them is a whole different experience.

The tidal wave of emotions washing over you renders you completely catatonic. So you sit. You let the feelings stew. You let the smile creep onto your face until your cheeks begin to ache. You let your eyes take nervous yet excited glances towards the girl sitting next to you, watching as she does the same. Those beautiful pearls of gray, gazing at you in a way that you’ve only seen in movies, TV shows, and your dreams.

Not so bad for a Tuesday.

[imbored1201]

hiii!

could you write something where teen r lives w ona and is always attatched to her but then lucy moves in with her and now r is upset bc she has to actually use her own bed and ona ends up buying a new bed or something.

:)

Ona’s Follower

Lucy x Ona x Teen Reader

Word Count: 2k

Yours and Ona's bond ran deep; the two of you had played in Manchester together. You were just 15 when you started playing with her; it was your first season coming from the academy, and she convinced you to move to Barcelona with her.

She always took care of you, and you practically followed her everywhere. She enjoyed the company though, teaching you everything, like how to cook her favorite Spanish dishes and even trying to teach you Spanish.

You feel the moment you really got attached to Ona was when she comforted you because of your frequent nightmares.

The two of you ended up being roommates when staying at a hotel with the United girls. 

You had hoped you wouldn't get a nightmare. That didn't go your way, considering you had one. 

You were woken up by Ona, who held you that night, and the next night, you had another one. 

Back at the apartment, you continued to sleep in Ona's bed. You realized sleeping with Ona helped you a lot since you stopped having nightmares, and it turns out Ona hated being alone in a bed to the point she had a lot of stuffed animals on her bed while she slept so she didn't feel alone. 

It was a huge win for both of you. 

————

You noticed something was going on between Ona and Lucy. Lucy was coming over every day now. You would always find them cuddling on the couch, and she would even pick you guys up to take you to training and games. 

You liked Lucy; she was funny and always brought you candy, and you always destroyed her in FIFA, so it was fun. 

————

Then the next step happened. Lucy moved in. You were panicking, to you, that meant you and Ona couldn't sleep in the same bed anymore. That made you disappointed, even sadder, watching Lucy unpack all her things. The good thing about it was that you were able to see Nala every day now. 

"Want to help me build this?" She was referring to a new dresser she had gotten. "Sorry, Luce, I need to go riding around." Lucy grinned, happy you were actually using the bike she had given you.

Ona was always complaining that you spent too much time in your room, so Lucy got you a bike, hoping it would motivate you to get out and go around the city.

That bike ride took a little bit longer than you intended. You did get caught up in your own head because, by the time you knew it, it was nighttime. Way past your cerfew. 

————

"Ona, calm down; she's fine; she probably just got caught up." Ona's eyes widened. "What if she got caught up doing something she isn't supposed to?" Lucy sighed, regretting her word choice. 

"Ona, she's a good kid; she knows not to do anything bad. She'll be back soon; you're tired; come on." Lucy led her to bed. Ona continued to stare down at her phone, waiting for any little text from you. 

She spent a couple of minutes lying down in bed, staring blankly at the ceiling. "She has a key, Ona. Come on, you have to let the kid do her own thing at times. She'll be back soon; if it makes you feel better, I'll stay up and wait for her." Ona sighed and nodded. 

By the time you got home, Lucy had already fallen asleep. She did wait an hour though; she was worried too, but once she finally received a 'I'm okay' text from you, that worry went away, and she fell asleep spooning Ona.

Once you finished your routine, you went to Ona's room. It was just a habit of yours at that point, and when you saw her and Lucy sleeping cuddled up in bed, something burned up inside you. Jealously and sadness. Tears started to build up in your eyes

You know it was probably childish, but it was just something you were used to. Ona had been your anchor; every time something went wrong, you went running to her. With Lucy there now, you felt like you couldn't do that anymore. 

You gently closed the door and walked to your room. It was weird sleeping in your own bed for once. You hadn't done that in forever; you grabbed one of Ona's hoodies that you stole and laid down, using it as a pillow. You hoped you wouldn't have a nightmare and fell asleep. 

————

Lucy was the first to wake that morning; she hated to admit it, but she completely forgot she didn't see you come the front door; she got lost in admiring Ona's beauty to remember. 

When Ona stirred, the first thing that came to her mind was you. She thought about last night and quickly sat up, not needing any time to fully wake up. 

Lucy noticed Ona's panicked expression when she looked at her. "What?" She asked, getting up. "Where's Y/N?!" She was panicky, walking out of the room to search for you.

Lucy quickly got up and followed her as Ona checked the living room and kitchen. Lucy checked your room, and there you were. Using Ona's sweater as a pillow and holding onto a stuffed teddy bear, Lucy won you at the fair. She even won Ona one, then bragged about being too good at everything. 

"Ona, she's in here," she quietly said, gently closing your door. Ona was about to barge into your room, but Lucy gently grabbed her. "She's sleeping." Ona sighed in relief and went back to the kitchen to make apology pancakes for you. 

"Hey, what's wrong?" Lucy put her hand on Ona's hips. "Fuck Lucy, we shouldn't have slept in the same bed. I'm sorry. Y/N, she always sleeps with me; the poor girl gets these bad nightmares, and they stopped when she started sleeping with me" 

Lucy looked understanding and thought for a little bit. "You know, we need to get a bigger bed anyway; it would be beneficial for everyone and maybe even encourage a little more action," she smirked. Ona raised her eyebrows. "Lucy, we are not talking about sex while there is a child in the bedroom."

"Of course not; that's why we send her to Mapi and Ingrid's. What I'm trying to say is, let's get a bigger bed so she can sleep with us."

Ona's face lit up, and she immediately grabbed her car keys. "I'm going to look at bigger beds," she told Lucy, and left. Lucy quickly took over, smirking to herself for being a genius. 

————

That whole day, you only came out to eat the pancakes and for dinner. Lucy took control and barged into your room. You ended up crushing her in FIFA again.

It was now 10 p.m., and you were thirsty, your eyes hurt from playing video games all day, and you had done nothing productive all day. Mostly trying to get used to the fact that your room was actually going to be your room for once. 

————

"What's wrong?" Ona asked noticing your frown, you jumped, almost dropping your water. You weren't expecting Ona and Lucy to still be up at this time watching their romantic movies. "Nothing, just thirsty."

"Come watch the movie with us." Lucy made room between her and Ona. You shook your head, "I'm going to bed." Lucy didn't give up, though; she got up and threw you over her shoulders. 

"Luce," you whined. She threw you on the couch, and Ona was quick to hug you, so you couldn't get up. You sighed, paying attention to the movie. 

You were exhausted by the end of the movie, the comfort of Ona being next to you made it harder to keep your eyes open. You let your head fall against Lucy's shoulder. 

"How about you two snuggle in tonight? I'll take the couch. Then we'll go get the thing tomorrow." Lucy winked at Ona at the last part. You were confused but too tired to argue. The bed was being delivered tomorrow morning; it was just up to Lucy to bring it in on her own and build it. 

Ona led you to her room, where you collapsed on her bed. “Did you have any nightmares last night?” She asked as she got in beside you. You shook your head, rolling into her body and cuddling into her chest. She wanted to apologize for making you sleep in your own bed that night, but you had already fallen asleep. 

————

Once again, you woke up to no Ona. You huffed and got up, stealing a sweater that you were pretty sure was Lucy’s. “Ona?” You called out. 

You heard the front door opening and someone grunting. Nala started barking at whatever it was, so you made your way to the noise, thinking it was Ona. You let out a sad sigh when you saw it was Lucy. You loved her, but all the woman made was eggs in the morning, and you wanted Ona’s special pancakes again.

"Where's Ona?" You asked Lucy, who was struggling to bring in a mattress. "Store," she spoke out of breath. 

"What are you doing?" You asked. It was pretty obvious, but your brain was way too confused right now, and you had to ask questions. She let out some deep breaths before speaking. "Putting in the new mattress"

"Can I help?" She shrugged. "Sure, pull it," you grunted as you did what you were told. Ona wasn’t actually sure if the mattress would fit through the door; she just hoped it would. "Finally,” Lucy said, when the mattress finally got past the door. 

You were Lucy’s helper, playing with the tools, giving her whatever she needed, completely forgetting about your hunger. She proudly patted your back when everything was finished. 

"This calls for ice cream." She put a hand on your shoulder and led you out. You looked at her confused, but just went along with it. "I haven’t had breakfast," she shrugged. "It's fine.”

————

"Kid, you know I'm not going to take Ona from you, right?" You paused from where you were eating your ice cream and nodded, but you weren't actually sure how you felt. 

"Ona adores you; trust me, in a house fire, she would save you over me." You smiled at that. “But it’s fair; I would save Nala before the both of you."

"You promise you'll take care of her?" She nodded before adding, "I'm going to take care of both of you, I promise." She put out her pinky finger, which you took with yours. 

"That's why we bought the new mattress; it's bigger so all three of us could fit on that bed," you had a confused look on your face again, "Won't you be uncomfortable?" Lucy shook her head and let out a little laugh.

“Of course not; at this point, you’re my stepkid, you’re my favorite stepkid, and Nala is my favorite kid." She smiled proudly at that, and you appreciated it in a way. "Thanks, Lucy; I guess I understand why Ona fell for you now." “I’m just charming, ain’t I?” "Nevermind"

————

You still didn’t believe Lucy was actually comfortable with you being there, which is why you got ready to sleep in your own bed again. Lucy broke into your room once again, a rare stern look on her face. 

“What are you doing?” Lucy asked, her arms crossed. “I don’t want to disturb.” Lucy once again threw you over her shoulder and carried you to the bed. 

She set you down close to Ona who smiled at you. 

“Sleep bebita,” Ona spoke, spooning you. Lucy got into bed, leaving you squished in between them. Lucy got closer to you, making you push her away. “You have all that space over there."

“Shut up and let me cuddle you." You rolled your eyes and squirmed away from her, but she felt you relaxing after a couple of seconds. Your eyes were closing, and in a couple of seconds, you were out.

“Thank you for making an effort with her, Lucia.” Lucy nodded as she stroked your hair. 

“I’m just the stepdad that stepped up, ain’t I?” Lucy grinned, Ona rolled her eyes, holding you tighter. “Buenas noches Bronze”

[espinosaurusrexex]

Remember Me

WinterSoldier!BuckyBarnes x Female!Reader

summary: After a fight against the most notorious Hydra agent of all, Steve and you discover that your assumed diseased friend Bucky is still alive. Old wounds resurface as you are confronted with the grappling reality that you have lived vastly different lives for the past 70 years. Will he remember your shared history? And most importantly: does he still feel the same?

word count: 3.1k

a/n: Just a short piece that I managed to finish. I know it's not a lot, but I hope you enjoy anyway 💕

warnings: a bunch of fluff and angst, mentions of war, mentions of sexism, swearing, Bucky is really broken in this one, happy ending (:

･ﾟ✫* 𝒎𝒂𝒊𝒏 𝒎𝒂𝒔𝒕𝒆𝒓𝒍𝒊𝒔𝒕 ｡✭･ﾟ

“Proceed with caution, unidentified shooter on bridge. I repeat: unidentified shooter. It is not clear what the motive is. Take cover and shoot on sight.”

“Dispatch, this is Captain America - we’ll take it from here.”

“With all due respect, Cap, I will keep my men on site to keep your cover.”

“I appreciate it.”

“Least I can do for you, sir.”

“Stop chatting it up with the police and do your job, Rogers.”

“Alright, alright.”

You chuckled and turned to Tony. “How long are we out?”

“Three minutes, 46 seconds.” 

“You gonna survive that long, Stevie?”

“That guy’s got a good aim on him, gotta give him that.”

Muffled noises pushed through your earpiece before you stepped into the back of the Quinjet to gear up. 

“Can’t let him do anything. It’s one guy they’re fighting... one.”

“Yeah, one Hydra-trained assassin who’s apparently immortal and got more deaths on his record than Romanoff.”

You huffed as the meeting recollected in your mind. The Winter Soldier had been the newest pain in the Avenger’s asses ever since you discovered that Hydra was still operating in the shadows of S.H.I.E.L.D. 

“They’re just making a show out of everything, huh?” 

You strapped your gloves over your wrists and watched as Tony chuckled in the pilot seat. You and him had become good friends over the past few years. Ever since you and Steve had been discovered in the frozen airship of what you had thought to be your last mission about 70 years ago, you and Captain America had woken up in a vastly different world. One through which Howard’s son, Tony, gladly guided you. 

Both you and Steve were overwhelmed by the amount of changes the world had endured while you had soundly served your time as human popsicles, though Captain America seemed to struggle a little more with 21st-century technology and norms. 

It was fine, Steve had always been a little old-fashioned, even back in the day. You for one were delighted to learn about all the opportunities the world had to offer for women and other people who couldn’t have dreamed of any in the 40s. Because while Steve was celebrated for being the face of hope for the American people, you were still dodging snide comments doubting your place in the Army. And while you tried not to let anyone see the toll it took on you, it was the reason for enough nights you spent with Peggy sharing stories over a bottle of wine. 

You both decided the important men in your life should never find out. Though, of course, your not-so-secret didn’t stay hidden from Bucky for long. Which was one of the reasons you had jumped on that plane with Steve. Even when Bucky was already dead. Even when Steve was still oblivious. You constantly needed to prove yourself. But this one time, it had actually changed something – well, time had. 

You shook your head free of that thought and walked towards the cargo hatch. Tony had landed the Quinjet – it was go time. 

“Ready?”

“That guy won’t know what happened to him when we’re done with him.”

“Let’s rock his world, then,” Tony winked before his helmet closed and he flew out of the jet. You were close behind him, running the short distance from the ramp to the bridge from which you swung yourself off with a grappling hook. 

“What’s the status?”

“I’ve been shot.”

“I’ve got it, Bearcat check on Steve. He looks ridiculously helpless.”

“Roger that,” you sprinted towards the two fighting men on the street, as the Winter soldier threw Steve to the ground, his shield nowhere to be seen. 

“Okay, my turn.” You stepped in front of him, analyzing his movements, and dodging punches, trying to get some in yourself. 

“Oh come on, that’s not fair.” You huffed when he took a knife out of your leg holster and almost acrobatically threw it over your head just to graze your cheek with the blade. 

He had knocked off your guns at this point, leaving you with choking wire and some smaller daggers in your jacket. When he turned the right angle, you jumped his shoulders and locked your thighs around his neck, kicking the knife out of his hand and watching as he ripped your choking wire in half. Damn.

“Now, that’s not nice.” You threw the torn metal to the side as The winter soldier struggled to get you off him. A look to Steve told you he had a new plan, and with a short nod, you signaled your understanding to him. 

“But if you wanna be like that...” Steve threw you his shield and in a swift motion you managed to drag it over the soldier's head. He pushed his metal arm forward just in time, though your hit had already knocked the mask off his face. 

When the shield came down, you heard Steve’s footsteps halt next to you, the world going quiet. 

Your stomach churned when you watched blue eyes twitch between the dark smudges. Familiar and oh-so strange at the same time. 

“Bucky?” Steve stammered, and at the sound of his name, goosebumps rippled over your skin. 

The Winter Soldier’s look darkened before he reached for a gun. “Who the hell is Bucky?”

From then on, the day seemed like a blur. You remembered Sam knocking Bucky down and the lot of you flying back to the compound on standby. Steve was functioning a lot better than you were, considering the man you thought to be dead for over 70 years was currently handcuffed to a handrail on your jet. 

James “Bucky” fucking Barnes. Captain America’s best friend, founding member of the howling commandos, infamous war hero apparently turned assassin, and the man who stole your heart somewhere along the way. 

You dared a glance at the chained-up, unconscious brunette in the corner as Steve sat down next to you, a calming hand squeezing your shoulder. 

“Can I get you anything?”

You ignored him. “How are you not freaking out?” You whispered through glassy eyes instead. 

Steve’s expression softened when he pulled you into his chest, his other hand pressing your head further into him. His heart was hammering beneath his ribcage, his fingers cold to the touch. 

“I am. Just trying to be a captain.” His voice was strained when he mumbled into your hair. 

You just nodded in understanding, finding comfort in the fact you weren’t the only one feeling this way. 

❁ ❁ ❁

You watched him through the glass of the interrogation room with your arms crossed before your chest. Buck was sitting at the table, his head hung low, his dark hair falling in wet stands into his face. He didn’t move a muscle. For half an eternity, he stared at the table his wrists were chained to, almost statue-like. But when he finally looked up, you could see the confusion and nervousness in his ocean-blue eyes. 

They had given him time to recover, to shower, and feel like a human again. They forced him into normal clothes and offered him a bed to sleep. But it wasn’t enough. The man you were looking at was terrified and lost - exhausted and overwhelmed. 

Bucky visibly tensed when the door opened and Steve stepped into his sight. They spent the next hour reconstructing his past. Steve told him how he had ended up in the 21st century and by the end of their conversations, the tension was a lot less static.

“She’s alive,” Bucky stated and tore his eyes away from Steve to look at the one-way glass.

“She’s a tough one. Survived the crash without super soldier serum and came out of the ice just as unharmed as I did.” 

“What are the odds?” Bucky chuckled bitterly. “What are the fucking odds we all end up together again?” 

Steve only gifted his friend a sympathetic smile along with a squeeze to his shoulder. “Take it as a chance.”

“Feels like a punishment.” 

They were locking eyes and even though you were watching the interaction from the outside, you could feel the atmosphere turn somber. The men were staring at each other in silence for a while, though you knew there was an entire discussion happening in their eyes.

“Does she... does she want to see me?” Bucky’s voice was hesitant and broken. And you couldn’t help but somehow imagine a different question nestled in his words. 

You almost had to stop yourself from touching the glass with your hands, wanting to tell him that you were already seeing him - really seeing him. 

“Why don’t you ask her yourself?” Steve stood and with a last smile to Bucky, he exited the room. 

This was it. The door was open. The love of your life sitting only a few feet from it. Though it seemed like he was trapped inside another’s body. 

“I’ll give you some privacy,” Steve murmured as he stood in the doorway looking at you by the window. And you just nodded, trying to suppress your pulse rushing in your ears. 

“Thanks.” It was only a whisper. You weren’t used to your voice being this small. And Steve didn’t seem so either. He was looking at you with sad eyes, fists clenched by his sides. There was nothing he could do to make you feel better. Not this time. And he seemed to know so. With one last tight smile, he sent a short nod your way and then left. 

❁ ❁ ❁

Bucky didn’t look at you when you finally built up the courage to step inside his room. He was much bigger than you remembered. Thick muscles adorned his arms and shoulders. Shaggy, longer hair fell from his head and over his scrunched brows. His left arm was entirely of metal, a red star reminding him who had taken claim to him several decades ago. 

If you hadn’t known, the man before you had almost no resemblance to the soldier you loved in 1941. He had been lean and full of life. He was broken now. And you were terrified someone had taken the very thing from him that would keep him from becoming himself again. 

Without a word you approached Bucky, cupped his hands with yours, and undid the restraints that tied him to the table. And this was the first time he looked at you. Really looked at you. Bucky’s piercing blue stare was full of awe and sorrow, a deep pain etched beneath the grey flecks within the vibrant color. 

You sat down beside him. 

“Hey.” Your voice was shaky, dragging a long silence in its wake that only made your heart beat faster. 

“Hello,” Bucky finally whispered, breaking the spell. His voice was a raw timbre, like a long-forgotten melody. And so much more tangible now that you weren’t listening to it through a speaker. 

But that was it. Neither of you spoke afterward. 

There was so much that could have been said, so much that could have been exchanged, known, explored about the other. And yet it didn’t feel like any of the words known to you were enough to break the static tension in the room. You were just looking at Bucky, scanning every part of his body like it was a flash card for the most important test of your life. 

So, here you were: With the opportunity of a lifetime right at your fingertips and the confidence of a kicked puppy settled deep in your wounded soul. The person you had known for the longest looked so timid as if he were looking at a stranger. Not that he had ever been shy about strangers back in the day. But this was different. This was strange and beautiful, and scary, and exciting. No book in the world held the answers as to what to do in this situation. 

And the solution was so easy: you just had to say something. So why didn’t your damn mouth open?

The speaker above your heads crackled and then Tony’s voice rang through the room. And for the first time in what felt like hours, a tiny bit of the weight on your shoulders lifted with it. “Bearcat, If you don’t open your mouth and put the guy out of his misery in 5 seconds, I’ll personally mediate this incredibly static confrontation.”

You rolled your eyes and then glared at the mirror, knowing full well Tony was watching you despite your asking him to leave. You mouthed a ‘shut it’ towards the glass and then turned in shock when a familiar voice rose from the silence.”

“Bearcat?”

You stared at Bucky with soft eyes. There was an innocence in the way he slowly guided this conversation - almost like he’d always had. It was an easy question, a nice entry to the heavier stuff that was bound to be discussed. 

And just as you began to explain, it dawned on you how much you had missed about each other. How differently your life could have been if it weren’t for the cruel turn of fate.

“When Steve and I were discovered, S.H.I.E.L.D. was our home for a long time. They tried to put us in apartments, even set us up with chaperones to guide us through the new century.” Bucky looked intrigued, even leaning forth as he listened intently. You wondered if he ever realized how much time had passed when he was the winter soldier... if anyone ever cared to tell him. “But it wasn’t until I met Natasha that I felt like I had arrived. She showed me so many things and trained with me until I became an agent here. Howard’s son came up with the nickname. He reminds me of him.” You smiled and shook your head “He’s a pain in my ass but a genius that can be genuinely helpful even though I don’t want to admit it at times. I haven’t grasped the explanation fully, but apparently, my fast learning and efficiency when it came to fighting reminded him of one of those small powerful fighter jets that were finished just after the war.” You chuckled at the memory before your eyes found Becky’s again only to see pain all over his face. 

A silent tear rolled down his cheek and hit the floor before you could see it stain his skin. “I'm so sorry.” His voice was shaking, his body trying to make itself smaller but failing miserably with all the muscle surrounding it. He took up the room and your heart right along with it.

“Hey you have nothing to apologize for, you hear me.” You cradled his face and his hands instantly covered yours, only for his metal one to retract just as fast again. He was sorrowful and it made your heart ache. 

“You’ve been navigating through so much alone and this is yet another thing you had to do without me.” He confessed through his tears and squeezed his eyes shut. He hadn’t changed within - always caring for everyone around him and never putting himself first.

“I’m fine. Was then and am now.” You ensured him. “If you want to worry about someone, take Steve. He’s a lot more overwhelmed than I am.” Bucky chuckled through his tears, a deep seriousness settling in his eyes. “If anything, I’m sorry we didn’t save you sooner.”

He shook his head. “You couldn’t have known.” And there it was: a glimpse of the loving, caring, charming man you’d known so many years ago. A small smile snuck onto your face at the revelation and a spark of hope shot through your body. 

“I haven’t stopped thinking about you,” you confessed, "We never had the time to actually be just us. To live all the dreams we shared back then.” 

Bucky's eyes were full of sorrow before he closed them and pressed his forehead to yours. “I wish I could say I missed you,” he whispered and slung his arm around you, “But I didn’t remember.”

“And that’s not your fault, you hear me.” Your hand stroked over his damp hair, pulling it back and making Bucky look at you again. “None of this is your fault. Don’t you ever doubt yourself. What happened to you is horrible. And I vow to kill every single person responsible for keeping us apart for this long. But not once will anyone ever consider this your fault.”

Bucky averted his eyes and turned his head but you were quick to catch his face with your hand. “Promise me you won’t beat yourself up. Please. That’s all I ask of you. Let Steve and me handle the rest and focus on becoming comfortable in your skin again. I can’t wait to meet the man you can become.”

“You don’t want to know me, doll. Not anymore. Even if it wasn’t my fault, it changed me. I’m not the man you-“ he stopped talking as you watched regret flash over his features. “I don’t think I can give you what you deserve.”

“I don’t care what I deserve, Bucky. I want you. I always have and that won’t change because some bullies tried to brainwash you. The very fact that we are here talking like this shows how much stronger you are than them. How the good in you never wavered.”

“But I can’t even trust myself. How can I expect you to do so of me?”

You cradled his head harsher as you felt your own tears roll down your cheek. “All I need is for you to try and trust me. We’ll figure this out... like we always do.”

Bucky’s flesh hand had fallen to your thigh, a soft thumb stroking over your leg and he watched the movement in awe. You didn’t know how long it had been since he had last felt comfort but you were determined to make up for all the lost time. With the wild beating of your heart, you took his metal hand and laved your fingers with his, watching as Bucky’s eyes glued to your smaller hand in his. There was no fear of what could happen, no aversion towards the alien element attached to his body. And then, finally, he encased your hand with his silver fingers. 

Your other hand still stroked his cheek and you waited until he caught your gaze again. And once he did, you did not hesitate to slowly push your lips to his. 

Just a short, sweet kiss. One that held more words than you could ever say. And then you waited. What for? Maybe a rejection, the shake of his head, or the sheer confidence with which he used to kiss you decades back. 

Bucky’s breaths were shaky, his hands still touching you and sending softly timid comfort through your body. He held your gaze for a second... and then, he finally kissed you back. 

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[bluecollarmcandtf]

M O O N L I G H T ™

Chapter III

It's late, and the last thing I expect to find at my nightly workout is my little bro, dressed up like a personal trainer. He looks ridiculous in that cheesy uniform, not to mention the light pouring out of his skull and the smile stamped into his face! I guess the little idiot signed up for Moonlight™: that was one helluva mistake!

"Good evening, sir," my brother speaks as if we hadn't grown up together, "Is there any way I can aid your fitness journey tonight?"

Hearing Ryan call me 'sir' brings a devious grin to my own face. I've bullied this kid for years, and now he's kissing my ass like well-trained puppy. Thanks to Moonlight™, my annoying little bro is just a mind controlled employee who doesn't realize his brother's here, let alone embarrassing him! I wish I could get my entire family implanted with these little Moonlight™ things. Messing with them would be hilarious!

"Oh yeah," I sneer, "And what's string bean gonna do for a guy like me?"

"Well, sir, as a personal trainer here at Planet Fitness, I'll gladly demonstrate how to use the machines, spot patrons with heavy-lifting, and return equipment when finished."

God, he sounds even more annoying than usual! "You really think a someone like you could spot me?" I scoff and bring my bicep to his face, flexing it inches away from his perpetually open eyes.

"Actually, sir, this body can lift 260 lbs on the bench press without injury. The load you have is well-enough below to ensure that I may be of service. Still sir, the weight you're lifting is a very respectable amount," Ryan's smile beamed at me, but mine fell.

"Whatever, I'll be fine," I retort, "Just stand over there and mop up my sweat when I'm done."

"Yes, sir."

My little brother takes a step back as I get ready to lift. As stupid as he looks, standing there waiting on me to finish, he also looks pretty fit. His company polo might be sweaty and gross, but it's tight against his improving physique. He's clearly been lifting a lot while he's been working here, but his gains should not count if Moonlight™ is the one actually working out that pathetic little body! The only way he could bulk up was by becoming a fucking puppet! Talk about sad!

"Fuck!" I grunt, tossing the barbell back as I finish. I did a few extra sets to prove a point and now my arms are on fire. "Towel!" I snap.

"Yes, sir," Ryan rushes over and wipes the sweat off my brow. I just laugh in his face.

"I think I got some sweat on my sneakers too," I jab, "You can wipe them off and then put twenty more pounds on the bar."

"Of course, sir."

My brother gets on his knees with the towel, giving my sneakers a cursory buff. I don't know what personal trainer has shoe-shining in his job description, but I've heard these Moonlight™ employees can be pretty pliant. Apparently, you can make them do quite a bit with the loopholes in their programming. Maybe I can get Ryan here to do something even more embarrassing than polishing his big bro's shoes!

The next week, I worked out every night.

Turns out, bullying my little bro was great motivation to go to the gym! When I saw him during the day, I never mentioned the fact that I knew; didn't want to scare him off. At night, I had every opportunity to take out my frustrations on him. If he pissed me off during the day, I could boss him around at the gym, ordering him to follow me around and wipe down every piece of equipment. I could call him whatever names I wanted and yell at him as loudly as I pleased; he had to just stand there with the best customer service smile and say "yes, sir."

Playing around with Ryan was fun, but it wasn't until I went out for a drink that I ran into my second brother. I guess he had the same idea to get hired with Moonlight™...

"Can I fix you a drink, sir?" my brother, the middle child, yells over the club's EDM.

"What the hell?" I shout, "Ryan's dumb enough to Moonlight™, but I didn't think you were!"

Sam just stares back with the same flashlight eyes and widely stretched lips. Of course his programming won't let him do anything outside of bartending! He's probably not even conscious in there! Ryan was always a bit of an impulsive twerp, so I wasn't surprised to see him Moonlighting™, but Sam is different. He'd said he'd never put his body to work at night. Something about the behavior of Moonlighters™ always rubbed him the wrong way...I guess he changed his mind.

"A round of beers," I tell him, warily gesturing to the back corner, "For me and our crew."

Sam's glowing stare looks over my shoulder and sees our friends, the guys we both hang out with, "Yes, sir. I'll have it right out for you."

I return to our pals, anxious for my brother to follow. Sam is only a year younger than myself, so we run around with the same crowd, yet he didn't recognize any of our buds. Now he's about to serve them like a fucking waiter. My catatonic brother is about to walk into the most humiliating situation of his life. I just get to sit back and watch!

"Sam?" one of them asks a moment later.

"Here are your beers, sir," my brother plucks the bottles off his tray and sets them out for each of his friends, completely oblivious to their stunned reactions, "Is there anything else I can get any of you?"

"Holy crap, dude!" another pal turns to me, "Since when did your brother start Moonlight? He looks like a total idiot!"

Sam doesn't seem to register the insult.

"I don't know man," I laugh, "Tonight, I guess."

"Fetch us some napkins," one guy quips with an amused flick of his hand.

"Right away, sir." Sam answers a little too promptly, and whisks away.

"Right away, sir, Ha!" the guy repeats with a mock salute, "We've gotta mess with him!"

Sam returns, obediently passing out napkins, but I'm finding it harder to meet his gaze while he's grinning so manically. This situation is starting to feel more awkward than hilarious. These guys will never let him live this down!

"Sam, get over here and give this paying customer a sloppy BJ!"

My brother stiffens, and for a second a jolt of fear runs down my spine, terrified that Moonlight™ will actually make him comply. Pranks are all good and fun, but I do not want to see my brother about to blow another dude!

"I apologize, sir," he finally resumes, "That is not part of my responsibilities as bartender."

Thank God.

"Then get something to clean this up," he laughs wildly, "You spilled my beer!" Our friend then pours half his drink on the crotch of his jeans, staring at Sam with the amused eyes of a drunk fool. This guy always gets weird after a few drinks. I don't know why we still bring him along. Normally, we just ignore him.

"Of course, sir," Sam answers attentively.

For the next ten minutes, I sit in silent horror as my brother returns with a rag, proceeding to get on his knees and wipe down another man's crotch with painful dedication. Of course, our friends are all howling with laughter at this point, taking video evidence that they can embarrass Sam with later.

It feels like a lifetime, but Sam finally stands up, "I hope I cleaned that up well enough for you, sir."

The guy feels at his wet jeans, saying, "I don't know if that's good enough, bitch."

"I'm sorry, sir, let me try ag-"

"No! It's my turn," someone else cuts in, pushing his way to the front, "You spilled some on my ass that needs cleaned up!"

The gang loses it, doubling over with laughter as Sam prepares to spend the next ten minutes wiping down another guy's ass, but I've had enough, "No! We're done here, thank you. Go close our tab," I bark.

"Yes, sir," Sam turns on his heel. His dumb obedience is more disturbing than entertaining at this point.

Our friends all give me a hard time for sending him away, but I'm not having it. Maybe I'm not drunk enough, but they're enjoying this a lot more than I am. At this point, I'm ready to call it a night and go home, so I say my goodbyes and head for the exit.

The walk home isn't a far one, but I pass a few notable places on the way: one being my dad's dark office building. Our old man has been working late nights there lately. In the dimly lit lobby, I recognize someone...

"Dad?" I gasp.

"Good evening, sir," my father says to me without any note of familiarity in his voice.

"Wait, you're moonlighting too?" it comes out as more of an accusation, but at this point I'm fed up with finding family members secretly working random mind-controlled night jobs.

"I am a security guard employed through the Moonlight™ corporation," his gravelly voice sounds foreign, delivering these programmed prompts, "If you'd like, sir, I can help you apply for a Moonlight™ position, and you can start making the most of your sleeping hours too!"

"Why the fuck did you think this was a good idea, dad?" I ask, knowing this stupid security guard persona isn't capable of answering.

"He didn't."

The voice of someone else in the room sends shivers down my spine. I whip around, and see a gangly, middle-aged man stepping forward.

"Jeff?"

"Hi, Jamie," my uncle says, sauntering up to his far taller brother and resting an arm on his shoulder. My dad's attentive posture doesn't waver. He just keeps on acting like the perfect sentry for the building and the perfect armrest for his brother.

"Do you mind telling me what's going on!?"

He sniffles and sighs like he was caught with his hand in the cookie jar, "Yes, I suppose this charade of mine was doomed to be found out sooner or later. I put your father in the Moonlight™ database. He was just wasting his sleeping hours at home in his bed, and he'd always refuse to let me sign him up, so I did it in secret. He makes a great guard. Right Tom?"

Uncle Jeff claps my dad on the back, prompting him to announce a proud, "Yes, sir!"

"See," my uncle turns back to me, "No harm done. Your old man gets paid to stand around in his sleep. Its harmless!"

"But he doesn't know!" I yell, seething at my uncle's sheer abuse of his place in the company, "This has to be illegal, and are you just pocketing Dad, Ryan, and Sam's salaries?"

He rolls his eyes, "I am right now, but the four of you don't even make that much."

"Did you just say the four of us?" I grunt.

"Oops," he holds a hand to his forehead and curses under his breath.

"AM I FUCKING MOONLIGHTING WHILE I SLEEP TOO?" I am screaming at this point, "You're fucked up!" I bark. Angrily, I stomp towards my uncle, but my father takes a firm step planting himself between me and the man. His steady palm is holding the baton at his belt, making me nervous. Is my dad about to beat me up for this creep?

"Excuse me, sir," my dad smiles at my uncle, "Would you like me to escort this man out of the building?"

"That won't be necessary," my uncle says, "I'll just trigger his Moonlight™ shift to start now. You can go back to standing in the corner"

"Yes, sir," my security guard father answers placidly, returning to his attentive stance.

"You wouldn't," I snarl.

"Oh, trust me, I will. As I understand it, overriding a subject's body while awake means you'll be fully conscious. I'll work on something to make you forget this whole incident later."

He presses a few buttons on an ipad, and suddenly my vision is engulfed in a purple haze. My back straightens, my muscles relax, and I feel my face contorts into a giant smile. Suddenly, my entire body seems to be gone from my grasp, and I'm constrained to a tiny space in my head while something else takes over.

"Enjoy your shift," my uncle snickers with a glare.

"Thank you, sir. I will," I feel my voice pushed out of my throat with an excited tone that isn't mine. Before I know it, my legs are carrying me away from my uncle, leaving him with my father, to march down the dark street...

"Here's your order, sir," my voice has the trademarked Moonlight™ eagerness in it as I reach out the window and hand over the meal.

"Fuck off, sleep-freak!" the teen in the driver's seat flips me off, making his immature friends cackle as they speed off. I can't do anything but smile and watch as they weave away. They have no idea I'm actually conscious in here.

After being forced to leave my uncle, I found myself striding into a fast food restaurant through its backdoor. I could instantly tell the place wasnt anywhere I'd eat at because the dumpster smelled like soggy fries and old meat. The kitchen was a fluorescent-lit pit, with a thick feeling of oil hanging in the air. I could barely take in the surroundings before I was changing out of my clothes by some lockers. I was horrified that Moonlight™ was making me fucking strip, but before long my hands were pulling on new clothes: a uniform. The polo felt like it'd been sitting at the bottom of the locker since the last shift, drying in sweat, and the pants were sticky with something unidentifiable. I was mortified to be pulling on a fucking hairnet and apron, but I had no choice.

"Blondie's here early," a smoker's voice purred from behind me. I had a bad feeling he'd been standing there for a while, watching.

"Hello boss," my voice answers, apparently recognizing the overweight, unshaved creep, "I'm ready to start my shift, sir! Where am I needed today?"

I watched as the man licked his stubbly lips, his beady eyes crawling all over me. Without any shame, his sweaty palm groped the growing bulge in his khakis. He was obviously happy to see me, and he probably thought I couldn't actually see him! I guess, every fucking night that my uncle's made me work in my sleep, I've been under the supervision of THIS pervert!?

"Get to the fryer," his scratchy throat moaned, "You know I want you to get nice and sweaty for later."

"Yes, sir. I'll be sure to work up a sweat for you," I answer, confused and disturbed by my response. The cheer in my voice did not match the overwhelming gloom I felt when the man slapped my ass. His hand lingered on my rear for too long, but I couldn't even frown.

Since then, I've been boiling fries and flipping burgers. Every so often I have to hand an order out the window, but my heart races every time I do. Three orders ago, the customer threw their soda back at my coworker, he's a fairly average guy in his thirties, and he was dowsed in Coca-Cola. It didn't keep Moonlight™'s programming from working: he just kept manning the grill, smiling, eyes glowing, and hair dripping with cherry flavored juice.

"Ouch!" at least, that's what I want to say. The oil sizzles and pops, and a few drops of hot grease splatter onto my arm, but I don’t flinch. The control won’t let me.

Suddenly I feel someone leaning in behind me. My spine shivers as my manager says, "It's closing time, Blondie. I'll send everyone home so you and I can clean up like usual." He whispers it in my ear, with his flabby arms wrapped around me like we're fucking lovers! I wish I could vomit!

"Sounds good, boss," I find myself saying.

One by one, the manager dismisses each of my moonlighting coworkers. I can't help but feel jealous as they strip out of their uniforms by the door. It isn't just that they get to leave; they also have the luxury of not knowing what's going on. They're all asleep. I'd give anything to at least be unaware of whatever this fucking pervert is about to do!

My body is preoccupied with whatever shit needs to be done for closing, wiping down the tables, taking out the trash, and more.

"Mop time," the manager suddenly announces, holding the raggedy thing out expectantly.

"Yes, sir," my voice answers, and I drop what I'm doing to accept the mop. The crotch of his pants is unzipped, but my bodies already turned away from him, turning all my attention to swab the tiles floor.

"You're doing it wrong again, Blondie," he purrs slowly, "I'm gonna have to help you like usual."

"Thank you, sir," my voice sounds grateful, but I am anything but. The pervert presses his rotund body against my back and holds my muscular arms with his own chubby ones. I can feel his penis poking into me below his gut, but my body accepts his touch like he's just a boss helping out an employee.

I guess this asshole found a loophole in Moonlight™'s fucking programming. He's going to touch me all he wants under the guise of demonstrating the right way to mop.

The creep spends the next ten minutes guiding my arms back and forth. "Fuck, you're bubble butt feels even better than usual, Blondie," he breathes in my ear. If I had control of my muscles, he wouldn't stand a chance, but right now, they're putty in my boss's arms. Meanwhile, his waist gets busy dry humping his chode into my rear end. "I'm so glad a jock like you was dumb enough to try Moonlight!" he grunts, his tongue dangerously close to my ear. I can only thank God that he can't take my pants off! After several painful minutes of him spitting more disgusting comments onto my cheek, his arms drop mine and plant themselves on my chest. His hands sloppily grope my pecs and pinch my nipples. I've never felt more pathetic. The man makes one final exclamation, "FUUUCK!" and I can tell he has finally gotten off.

"Thanks for the help, boss," I find myself saying.

With heavy breaths, he staggers back. The sudden open air on my back makes me realize just how hot and sweaty that slob was, and I can feel the slimy remnants of his balls slipping down my back and legs.

"Good job as always, Blondie," he breathes heavily with satisfaction.

"Thank you, sir," I answer. My voice hasn't lost its awful chipper quality, and my face is still stuck in a smile like I hadn't just been taken advantage of.

"Finish mopping up, and then you can lock up and clock out," he winks as if we shared some inside joke. I hate that all he sees is my smile.

"Yes, sir," I answer, but the creep has already waddled out of the building and slammed the door shut.

The sudden silence is unbearable. It makes the monotonous task of mopping the sticky floors all the more unpleasant. What's worse is that I can't pause to wash the manager's cum off my back. It soaks into my pants as I work, trapped in my own body. At least I know why these pants are so sticky. Honestly, I hope Uncle Jeff will wipe my memory...

[heck-theo]

TMayNT Day 14: Favourite turtle movie.

The Rise one :P

Ok SO I disappeared because when I saw this prompt I wanted to finish this. Now to try and catch up, or at least continue TMayNT. If anyone would like to guess at themes and motifs I'd love to hear it because I remember putting a lot of thought into the initial concept ^^

More info about the creation of the video below:

So a lot of this isn't up to my personal standards BUT I'm proud of it because: I have started dozens of projects like this and almost never finished any. I am fighting my perfectionism and sporadic ADHD motivation. I believe I conceptualised this at the end of 2022 or early 2023 and reanimated/redrew the storyboard at least 3 times over the first half of 2023 before it was abandoned. Until now. Also I've never had a "camera" to play with before so I'm very inexperience with that.

It's a bit inconsistent: 1. because it was partially an experiment using Moho. It was my first time properly using it and I definitely need to look at some tutorials because I' strong armed it and made things a lot harder than I'm pretty sure I am not making the most of the features lol. Its also a vector program, which I'm not used to. 2. because I redrew the storyboard multiple times (and kept various aspects of it for the final ver) and then redrew it a final time after like a year.

So I credited those artists for popularising the meme but I actually have no idea where specifically I got the idea. I do not remember referencing any other "Is It Cold Outside" memes. I'm like 99% sure I sat down and wrote out a plan/script in word but it's possible I was inspired by or referenced someone specific and don't remember, so if anything is ringing any familiar bells please let me know.

I can't find the original sped up audio used in these memes but I believe this was the original original: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KorGLK9VXcU (If anyone can tell me more info about the audio used in this meme, let me know). Storyboarded on Clip Studio, animated on Moho, minor editing on Kdenlive.

[jester-lover]

Hello! Can I please request Azul, Riddle, and Jade with a reader who talks a lot and doesn’t stop talking until someone tells her that she’s talking a lot?

This is literally just me as a person. Extroverts assemble😞

Talkative

Feat. Azul, Riddle and Jade

Cws/ bullying, teasing, fem! Reader, mostly fluff

Azul

Azul is often in the same boat as you (no pun intended), as he is also a very hardworking and driven young man. The ideas the two of you share with one another are really interesting and helpful.

Even if you are just rambling on as he finishes up his paperwork, Azul will always insist you keep going until you feel like you’re done talking. If you cut a sentence halfway through because you’re worried he might get annoyed, don’t be. He loves the sound of your voice.

He’s the type to get really ticked off when people bully or demean you for talking too much, because he has his own history with bullying and also because he genuinely likes hearing you speak.

He always remembers things you mention you want in your ramblings and notes them down for future occasions. If you mention not liking someone for any reason, he’ll keep note of that too…

Azul will encourage you to actualize some of the plans and ideas you bring up to him, keeping you motivated with his everlasting pride towards you.

Riddle

Despite being kind of quiet and stern, Riddle would fare well with a talkative girlfriend. You would balance out his angry nature with your extroverted one.

He loves listening to you talk about anything and everything over a warm cup of tea, the warmth surrounding the two of you as he intently observes your expressions changing as you describe certain aspects of your day.

If he hears even a snide remark coming from someone about your talkative nature, he collars them. No hesitation.

Riddle invites you to every single unbirthday party because you can engage in actual worthwhile conversation and also because he loves watching your social butterfly nature in action as you converse with everyone.

Jade

Jade can often be quiet, but he is probably one of the best and most thoughtful listeners in all of NRC. He usually uses this skill to gather dirt on people, but with you, it's different.

As a guy who's only been on land for a fraction of his life, Jade openly enjoys learning more about the world through your spiels.

He also loves drama; he wants all the tea if you’re into gossip. Trust me, he can trade info if it’s something juicy about someone he doesn’t like. You two sit down every once in a while and just chit-chat like moms over brunch.

If anyone has a problem with you talking a lot or, heaven forbid, calls you annoying, they’re gonna find a looming shadow menacing them until they apologize….

[detachedminxsfics]

Motel

Masterlist

Characters: Negan (Dead City) x F!Reader

Summary: You've grown particularly close with the Motor Inn's personal walker killer and decide to pay his motel room a visit.

Word count: 4.5K

Warnings: NSFW - Oral (m receiving), vaginal sex, hair pulling, shower sex, praise, dirty talk, negan's usual foul mouth, gentle dom negan

A/N: If you're from my tiktok (which spawned the chaos that motivated me to finish most of this bc you guys are crazy), hello! This is my first time managing to actually finish and upload a oneshot in months, so I apologise in advance. I was also extremely tired when I wrote most of this, but I hope it was worth the wait for the handful of you bombarding my comment sections for the past 24 hours. 😂 I knew what I had to do the moment I saw that shower scene...like damn.

You downed your third shot of the day before slamming it back down onto the counter and wiping the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand, your eyes idly following the neon lights on the sign hung proudly behind the bar. The Easy Stay Motor Inn. It was a shithole. It only served as a way of keeping four walls and a roof over your head, and walkers off your ass. Speaking of, there was only one guy you'd grown particularly fond of during the month you'd spent working for the lady who owns this place and lapping up the amenities of their accompanying motel, Negan. He wasn't from around here, that much you gathered just by taking one good look at him, but then neither were you. You were both drifters. Heading from one place to the next, never staying anywhere long enough to see it through and find out whether it'd go to shit or hold out long enough before eventually falling to pieces. You just kept moving. That mentality had served you well so far and had kept you alive long enough to say that you'd made it well over a decade into the apocalypse now, not that you had much to show for it.

"Want another?" The guy behind the bar asked, half expecting you to agree to it as you had with all the others and making his way over to the bottle of vodka you'd been chipping away at.

"No thanks", you shook your head with a small smile and slid off the bar stool, "I'm gonna go try to entertain myself someplace else, but don't be surprised if I come back and finish that off later." You gestured to the vodka with a tilt of your head, and the certainty in your tone had the bartender smiling.

You headed towards the backdoor that led to the motel out back, the harsh change of lighting making you squint and shield your eyes to adjust for a moment, the dim vivid hues of the neon-lit windowless bar you'd been sitting in for the past hour or two being snuffed out once you stepped into the natural sunlight. Visual disorientation aside, you made your way down the row of motel rooms lined at your side, your interest only lying with the idea of arriving at one motel room in particular, and you stopped in front of the door when you found it. The door was a stark black to match the wooden panels sitting on either side of the window not too far from the right of the door, vines having wrapped around some of the slats in the wood from the overgrowth of shrubbery on the floor beneath it. It was run down and uncared for like just about anywhere else in this world. You tested the handle to see if the door was unlocked and to your surprise, it was. Twisting it fully you pushed the door open and stepped inside, closing it behind you as you began to observe the interior of the room. It was generically decorated like just about any other room in this place, and he didn't seem to have left anything behind for you to snoop through. The room was so empty that if you didn’t know any better you might have thought that he'd moved on already, packed up all his shit and hit the road. You figured that this was on purpose and probably explained why he didn't care too much when it came to keeping the door locked since he didn't have any shit to steal. Smart.

Negan hadn't been around for too long now, in fact, he'd only arrived about a week after you, but he left a lasting first impression. He was useful. He pulled his weight by taking care of any of the walkers that roamed or wandered into the perimeter of the motor inn, and was never bad company on the occasions that he'd sat on the bar stool next to you and made conversation. As time went on you'd gotten closer and more comfortable with one another, and you quickly found yourself noticing that Negan was the one person you'd opened up to the most in the duration of your entire stay here, better yet felt the most comfortable doing so with. Your vulnerability wasn't one-sided, either. He never went into an awful load of detail, but he had a bad past. He wasn't on the run per se, but there was a group of people that he was hoping to avoid the possibility of encountering for the rest of his days, a community that he had a difficult history with. He alluded to what seemed to mostly amount to horrible shit that most people had done by now just to stay alive, the kind of things you see at night when you close your eyes, haunting you from the backs of your eyelids. You paid it no mind, and you told him that too; he seemed to appreciate your lack of judgement. Gradually, the conversations grew more personal and not so casual, things got flirty. It was subtle, but Negan would make small coy comments on things that you say, or little compliments now and again that toed the line a tad too much for what could be considered harmless flattery or him shooting his shot. You were able to keep yourself humble up until the night when he had jokingly mentioned how good your ass looked in your jeans after more than a few drinks, not that he needed it to let you know just how much he was checking you out. Your thoughts were interrupted by the twist of the doorknob and the sight of it being pushed open afterwards, revealing a rather sluggish and slightly dishevelled-looking Negan. Negan had a silver beard that he seemed to keep well-maintained, the hair decorating his top lip thicker than the rest. His dark hair was always slicked, though it seemed to have transitioned to more of an ashy brown over time with grey tinging at the sides of his hair. He was ruggedly handsome, that was for sure. A grin crept onto his lips when he noticed you standing by one of the beds, closing the door behind him and running his hand through his hair, slicking some of the strands that had fallen out of place in the process.

"Just letting yourself into my place now, huh? We graduating from drinking buddies to whatever the hell this is?" He quipped but was amused by how bold you were to just waltz on into his motel room.

"It's not like you don't want me here." You remarked with a knowing smile as you sat on the end of one of the double beds, to which Negan chuckled and ran his tongue over his bottom lip, a seemingly small mannerism of his that always drove you wild.

"Touché."

He sauntered to the bed next to you until he stood at the foot of it and started to shrug off his leather jacket with a sigh.

"Well whatever it is honey, it's gonna have to wait. I have been out there cracking rotting skulls for who knows how long, and now I need a damn shower."

The checkered flannel shirt he'd been wearing open underneath it was next, him tossing it on the bed in front of him before his fingers brush over the hem of his black tank top. He glanced at you with the material still pinched between his fingertips, a cocky smile creeping onto his lips as he noticed the way you were shamelessly staring at him and didn't seem to plan on stopping anytime soon.

"You gonna watch me strip now too, darlin'?"

You playfully shrugged and let your eyes wander down his torso, an eye movement Negan most certainly followed judging by the way his smile grew, as did his ego.

"I can turn around if you're too shy, Negan."

The throaty chuckle he let loose was almost immediate, his eyebrows raised as he shook his head in disbelief.

"Me, shy? Fuck no. You can stare your little heart out, and you would most definitely be staring."

Well, you certainly hadn't expected him to take it with such pride, so you caved and turned so you were facing the wall next to the bed. You could hear the sounds of clothes falling against the sheets and the clinking of metal as he undid his belt, and then the zipper on his leather pants.

"You still thinking of sticking it out here for a bit longer? I know last time we spoke you weren't so sure." Negan muttered as he got his pants down to his ankles and started to try to shake his ankles out of them.

You thought for a moment, then sighed a little.

"I think so? I don't know, I'm just trying to go day by day. Why, would you miss me?" Your tone picked up towards the end as did the enthusiasm in your voice, the suggestion making Negan's sudden laughter start in the form of a snort.

"Miss you? Shit, course I would. I'd probably move on from here after that."

You opened your mouth to speak but found yourself unable to form the right words. He made it sound like you were the only reason he was still staying here, and that without you there'd just be no point. You didn't ask him to elaborate though, just silently rolled the thought around in your head.

"Well, time to take that shower. I'll be right back, and I don't know maybe we can grab a drink or some shit afterwards?"

"Sure." You mumbled in response.

After that all you heard was the soft tread of his footsteps as he made his way past you and into the bathroom, then the sound of the water being turned on and beginning to crash against the floor of the shower for a few moments before it became more muffled with Negan's body interrupting the stream, and you turned back to face something other than the blank yellow wall you'd be staring at whilst he was stripping. You did your best to focus on the small details of the room to occupy your head, the peculiar framed pictures decorating some of the walls, and the hideous design choices when it came to the taste of the room, but it was no use. All you could think about was what Negan had looked like underneath all those clothes when he was a mere few feet behind you, and what he looked like right now standing in the shower in the very next room, the image of water droplets trailing down his torso and body making it harder to stay seated with every passing second until you just couldn't take it anymore. You stood to your feet and made your way to the bathroom, standing in the doorway for a moment as you stopped in your tracks. The shower had a sliding door that Negan had slid shut, the distortion of the glass still allowing you to be able to make out the sight of him with his head tilted town and one of his palms pressed up against the wall, and the tattoo decorating his shoulder blade. There was no turning back now, you had made up your mind. You approached the glass and gave it a soft knock, the sound startling Negan a little as he turned and slid the glass just enough for him to lean into the gap he'd made.

"Everything okay?" He asked, concern tinging his voice as he used his other hand to sweep some of the hair that had fallen into his face back in place.

Your only response was the sight of your fingertips grasping the hem of your top before you pulled it over your head, holding the top in your hands for a moment as you gazed at him, trying to gauge Negan's reaction to your now exposed breasts. He seemed taken aback for a moment or two, and then his eyes darkened with lust.

"Can I join you?" You asked, fingers teasingly dancing along the waistband of your jeans as though you could tell by just the look in his eyes that he wasn't going to deny your offer.

He didn't.

"Fuck yeah you can." He rasped with a shit-eating grin, leaning back and pushing the sliding glass all the way open to make room for you to join him.

You stripped until there was nothing left, discarding all of your clothes into a pile on the tiled bathroom floor and stepping into the shower with him. The first thing you noticed was the heat. The steam from the hot water, the heat coming from Negan's body, all of it swarming your body with warmth. Then, him. All of him. From the water droplets falling from the scruff of his beard, the dark hair decorating his chest and trailing down the centre of his torso, and even the skull tattoo inked on the right side of his chest. The man was gorgeous. Your eyes dragged down his body, drinking in every inch of him until you got to the part you'd been anticipating most, but were interrupted. He cupped the underside of your jaw and urged your head back up, his thumb brushing along your chin as the tip of his thumb traced just along the edge of your bottom lip.

"You like what you're seeing, huh?" He seemed to be making more of a statement than genuinely asking, but you entertained him nonetheless.

"A lot." You replied simply, the intense and lustful look your eyes were lit with corrupting your stare as your eyes bore into his.

"Good."

He used the hold on your jaw to guide your lips to his, his lips claiming yours. The hand that had been cupping your chin moved to grasp the nape of your neck, his other hand gripping your hip and drawing your body against his. You could feel him hard against your thigh as he groaned into the kiss, his tongue slipping into your mouth so you could taste him and his hands keeping you pressed firmly against his body, your own hands beginning to wander from the top of his chest down to his abdomen. The water cascading down his shoulders caressed along your fingertips and down your breasts, the warm water trailing down your body whilst he continued to move his lips against yours until you couldn't breathe, and you were forced to pull back for air. The moment you did Negan dove his head into the crook of your neck and pressed his lips against your pulse point, gently sucking the skin there and occasionally teasing it between his teeth in a way that was sure to leave marks, his beard scratching along your jaw as he did. The attention he paid your neck had your hand rushing up the nape of his neck and into his hair, combing your fingers through the back before taking a fistful of his wet strands. The slight tension on his scalp and the way your breath was shaking right by his ear made him pause for a moment to smile against your skin, a hoarse chuckle following shortly thereafter. The warmth of his breath from the laugh felt hot on your skin, and you used the strands of hair you'd taken in your palm to urge his head back until his face was inches from yours again. His tongue swiped over his bottom lip when you found your voice.

"You've thought about this before haven't you, fucking me?"

His brows raised at your boldness, the corners of his mouth fighting a smile.

"Damn right I have. I'd have to be blind or crazy not to, you are easy on the eyes, darlin'."

"Oh?" You tilted your head as you feigned mock surprise, his eyes looking you over like you were good enough to eat, and you might just let him.

Slowly you leaned in and seductively ran your tongue over his lips, finishing with a small kittenish flick at his top lip before leaning back. You soaked up the wanton look in his gaze when you sank to your knees, your eyes locked with his all the while. Now kneeling on the floor of the shower you reached up and closed your hand around his shaft, the way his breath caught in his throat once he felt your touch giving you the encouragement you needed to lean in and run your tongue over the swollen tip, beads of precum gathering along your tongue as you did. As you licked at it you felt Negan's fingers stroke over your hair before he started to gather it in his hand, all of your hair soon clutched into his fist like a makeshift ponytail.

"Don't be a tease." He warned as he slid his free hand underneath your chin and cupped it, allowing him to use both the grip on your hair and your jaw to urge you forward.

Willingly your lips parted, his cock sliding past your lips and into your mouth.

"Fuuuck, there we go." Negan slurred as he slid further into your mouth, stopping just before he reached your throat.

He grunted once you flattened your tongue on the underside of his shaft and leant forward, bracing one of his hands against the tiled wall of the shower when he lowered his head to look at you.

"Shit, you look so good with a mouthful of cock." He rasped crudely with the dirtiest smile before pushing himself down your throat, and you fought the urge to gag as he did.

He started to move his hips, the motion prompting you to place your hands just above his knees for support whilst he slid in and out of your throat. Soon enough tears began to well in your eyes, the urge to choke too great as you finally gagged on him, the sensation making Negan momentarily screw his eyes shut before sliding out of your mouth. He let you breathe for a moment or two before he was already pushing down your throat again, his groans getting louder and deeper with every thrust.

"Ohh, good girl." He cooed, his sounds of pleasure gradually turning into a blatant string of curses as he repeatedly thrust down your throat, and you shamelessly took every single inch.

Eventually, the movement of his hips got slower, his moans getting louder until finally his hips stuttered and his abdomen began to tense. He tightened his grip on your hair, the harsh grasp burning your scalp, and then you felt the hot wet spurts of warm liquid coating your tongue. You waited until you knew he'd spilt every last drop and then carefully removed him and swallowed his release, your breath a little laboured whilst Negan hovered above you with totally ragged, uneven breath, his eyes half-lidded as he tried to come down from the high of his orgasm. A few tears had escaped your waterline and slid down your cheeks as he fucked your throat, but it had mixed with the occasional stream of water trickling down your face from the shower.

"You did so good, baby. So good." He praised as he finally released your hair from his hand and started gently running his fingers through it instead, his touch soothing some of the pain he'd inflicted upon your scalp.

You stayed like that for a moment just listening to the sound of the water until you felt his hand leave your hair and the sight of him extending it out in front of you for you to take, which you did. He helped you to your feet and wrapped his arm around your waist the second you straightened your back, his mouth crashing against yours and allowing him to taste himself on your lips, the urgency with which he kissed you making you moan into the kiss a little. Whilst he stole your air Negan guided you backwards until your back came to press against the steamy tiled wall, the condensation pooling on the tiles smearing against your skin, and the faint coolness to it making you gasp. You wrapped your arms around Negan's neck to draw him in closer, your hips subconsciously moving to bring your groin against his and allowing his still proudly hard cock to brush against your inner thigh. You broke the kiss to try to regulate your unsteady breathing, leaning back just enough so that your lips were practically still brushing, the hot heavy pants Negan breathed against your lips making you need him all the more.

"Negan?"

"Yeah?"

"I need you inside me."

He couldn't hold back the dangerous look his eyes filled with when you whispered exactly what you needed, an arrogant look in his eye as he leaned back and cockily smiled.

"Your wish is my command, sweetheart. C'mere."

He slid his hands all the way up the backs of your thighs, towards your outer thigh, and then took hold of your hips. The gesture prompted you to do a small jump that allowed Negan to hoist you up and trap you between the wall and his body, your legs wrapped around his waist as his hands moved to cup your ass. In one calculated movement Negan lined himself up and sank inside you, the way you stretched around him eliciting a filthy moan from your lips almost immediately.

"That feel good, baby?" He purred, his voice full of arrogance.

He knew it did, he just wanted to hear you say it.

"Yes, god yes." Was all you could manage as he set a hard and intense pace, drawing all the way out before slamming back inside you, the feeling of fullness with every thrust making your mouth fall open.

One of your hands slid down his chest, his dark chest hair brushing up against your fingers as you did, whilst the other slid up his shoulder and moved to rest on the nape of his neck. His fingers were digging into your skin with the grip he had on you, strands of your hair clinging to the condensation of the tiled walls as you slightly threw your head back, uncontrollable sounds of pleasure spilling from your lips from the way he roughly fucked into you. The overwhelming sensation caused you to idly weave your fingertips in the hair at the top of his neck and run your hands through the back of his hair, occasionally tugging at it when he buried himself especially deep and you could do nothing but squirm in his grip. The water was still running just off to Negan's side, the hot water wasting onto the floor and creating a small pool at his feet. With the way you'd angled your body it allowed him to lean in and lick a stripe up the valley between your breasts, your skin feverishly hot against his tongue as he gathered some of the water droplets and left nothing but a trail of spit before beginning to kiss up your throat. He littered your neck with kisses, moving his affections to the side of your neck before planting a few kisses along your jaw, his stubble scratching along the side of your face all the while. It felt like heaven. You couldn't think about anything other than his touch, the way his mouth shamelessly marked your skin, the sounds of his heavy breath and the guttural groans spilling from his throat like music to your ears. By this point your sweet moans grew to resemble sobs, your legs slightly shaking in his hold as Negan thrust into you over and over, and a feeling started to burn in the pit of your stomach unlike anything you had ever felt before.

"Negan." was all you managed to choke out, practically in the form of a cry.

All you felt was his lips claiming yours, and the occasional parting of your lips just enough for him to whisper into the kisses.

"I got you, I got you, baby." He swore over and over, his gentle reassurance paired with his hard thrusts tipping you completely over the edge, and your whimpers getting lost in his heated kisses.

You feel the knotting in your abdomen just before everything comes crashing over you, waves of pleasure ripping through your body and making you clench around him as Negan continues to fuck you throughout your high, your mind hazed with overstimulation. Eventually his movements began to stutter, his abdomen clenching amidst the deep v-lines framing his hips, and a string of gravelly curses poured from his mouth. Carefully, Negan unwrapped one of your legs from his waist and urged you to set it down on the floor of the shower, the other still wrapped around his hips as he held it there. His free hand moved down to his shaft, wrapping his hand around it and giving it a few quick strokes until he finally came. His hold on your leg became more of a firm squeeze as he threw his head back a little and grunted, liquid splashing over the top of your inner thigh and beginning to gradually trickle down your leg. The bathroom was full of steam now, the air thick with humidity and both of your chests rising and falling rapidly as you both tried to catch your breath. After a few moments you felt Negan place your other leg down, his release still dribbling down your skin as you tried to come down from your incalculable high. His breath evened out a little, his eyes still half-lidded when his hazel eyes locked with yours, his gaze capturing you amidst the knowing grin playing on his lips. You were totally fucked out, and the sight made him chuckle.

"That good, huh?" He teased with raised brows, his tongue dragging over his bottom lip making you playfully roll your eyes and manage a small laugh.

"Shut up."

You'd give credit where credit is due, the man knew what he was doing, but you couldn't allow yourself to stroke his almost nauseating large ego any further. He shook his head with a smile, both of his hands smoothing over your waist and then taking hold of it, using it to lead you towards him. You let him coax you to the space closer to the shower head, the water now splashing directly against the back of his neck and trailing down his body, droplets of water simultaneously forming along Negan's jawline and repeatedly falling from his wet beard. He kept one hand on your waist whilst the other held one side of your face, his eyes boring into yours. His head tipped forward so he could rest his forehead against yours, water sliding down his neck when he started to speak in almost a whisper at first.

"If I hit the road, I want you to come with me."

You thought you may have not heard him right at first and leant back with slightly wide eyes, shock etched into your features.

"Really?" You muttered.

"Yeah."

A moment of silence passed, the stare you shared serving as more of an answer than any words you could utter, but you parted your lips to speak and did anyhow.

"You've got yourself a deal."

[carlottawllms]

Author’s note: It’s crazy how quickly these weeks pass by. We’re at chapter 4 already which feels absolutely insane! Thank you to everyone who takes the time to read and comment/reblog. It keeps me motivated to finish it!

As always, feedback is very much appreciated. And now, enjoy! 🩷

Mason knew you weren’t counting the days, but he still felt awful that it eventually took him about two and a half months to finally find some time to spend with just you. He’d promised to make it up to you and whilst you’d told him countless of times you didn’t want him to, he really wanted to make sure to look after you too.

Little did he know though that all the things he’d started doing lately made you feel looked after already. You weren’t even sure if he did them intentionally or just subconsciously, but either way, you appreciated all of them a lot.

They weren’t big or expensive, but they were thoughtful and never failed to put a smile on your face. They were things like buying fresh flowers on every Sunday for the office Mason had set up for you in his house. Or preparing dinner for you at least once a week so you could take a breather and simply relax a little bit. And then not too long ago, he’d come home with a book he’d heard you talking about randomly.

You kept telling him he didn’t have to do any of those things, but Mason being Mason, he didn’t want to hear any of it. Usually, he just rolled his eyes, grinned and kissed the top of your head as some sort of gentle dismissal, before disappearing to change into some sweat joggers and a hoodie, leaving you no chance to argue any further.

And as Mason knew he would face the same type of ‘discussion’ had he told you about wanting to spend the whole day with just you, he’d kept pretty much quiet about it. He’d stuck to asking discreet questions to figure out what you were going to do on your day off without raising any suspicion and when you’d told him you weren’t doing anything other than spending the day wrapped up on your sofa, he’d been quite happy about it. It had made it all pretty simple for him.  

-

It was half eight when you, dressed in cosy clothes, shuffled sleepily into the kitchen, ready for a cup of coffee, but before you could even press the start button on the coffee machine, there was a knock at the door.

“Go away.”, you mumbled, hoping that whoever it was would leave again if you were quiet enough, but the knocking continued. Thinking it might be one of your neighbours you made your way over to the front door, only to be greeted with a bright smile you hadn’t expected to see today.

“Mase?”

“Surprise.”, he grinned a little shyly before pulling you into a quick, warm hug.

“What are you doing here?” To say you were surprised would be an understatement. So far, he’d never come to see you on your day off, constantly insisting you needed at least a day to yourself to unwind and take care of yourself and him suddenly showing up this early in the morning had you a little worried. “Is Ellie okay?”

“She’s perfect, don’t worry.”, Mason explained softly as ushered you further back into your flat so he could close the door behind him. His heart warmed at your obvious concern for his daughter. “She’s with Luke and Anouska today.”

Those last few weeks, Mason had spoken a lot to Luke and his wife. He’d told them that he still felt a little guilty for bringing you into this mess and although the Shaw’s had reassured him like a hundred times that there was no need for that cause you enjoyed every second you got to spend with your best friend and his little daughter, Mason had been adamant. And as Luke was more than willing to support one of his best friends, he’d offered straight away to take Ellie for a day.

“I’m here for you actually.”, he chuckled, thumb gently brushing over the small crease that appeared between your brows at his admission. “Go get changed, we’ve got places to be. And don’t worry, you’ll like it.”

“Mase, I-”

“Please?” The moment he hit you with his puppy dog eyes and a little pout there wasn’t a single cell left inside of you that could’ve said no. Your overall willpower was pretty strong, and you usually knew what you wanted and how to put your foot down, but Mason was your weakness. In many ways.

“Fine.”, you sighed, your eyes rolling into the back of your head in jest. You hated when he made things about you, but you had an idea that today might be the day he would use for making things up to you. “I need a bit to make myself presentable though.”

“You always look beautiful.” His quiet admission had you blushing and you dropped your head as you didn’t want him to see how flustered he’d made you. “But yeah, maybe change into something less revealing. It’s still pretty cold outside.” Mason dropped a kiss to your forehead before shoeing you upstairs, his eyes following your every step.  

“Make yourself a home.”, you called over your shoulder as you made your way towards your bedroom to get changed. And calm down a little.

Half an hour later, you were sitting opposite of Mason in a place you’d never been to before: Dishoom. An Indian restaurant he’d been to with his parents before and wanted you to try it too now. Especially as he knew how much you loved breakfast.

And you really wanted to enjoy it properly, but the lack of prices on the menu told you everything about how far from being lowkey this place was. You knew it probably wasn’t a big deal for him at all and he’d never held back from spending money on you, but despite the years of friendship, it still made you feel a little uncomfortable.

“y/n.”, Mason sighed. “I can literally see the cogs turning in your pretty head. Stop thinking about prices, it doesn’t matter at all.”

With a soft smile on his lips, he reached over and grabbed your hands in his, thumbs caressing your skin in a way that would never fail to calm you down and when you eventually smiled back at him, he felt reassured enough to keep speaking.

“What you have done in the last few months is worth more than all the money in the world. I never thought I would suddenly find myself as a single father and when I did, I was everything but prepared.”, he chuckled, but the sadness behind those words made your heart squeeze uncomfortably in your chest and you squeezed his fingers gently.

“Sure, my parents would certainly have stepped in too, but you are not only my best friend, whom I trust blindly, but above all a great role model for Ellie. In you, she has someone she can learn from without me having to worry. I can go to training without wondering whether or not she gets along with the nanny or if she might adopt values that I don’t share. You can’t imagine how much it means to me and how much pressure and worries you’ve taken from my shoulders those last months. Please let me do this for you, y/n.”

You sighed and stayed quiet for a while. Eyes solely focussed on his big brown ones and the way they were silently pleading with you, basically begging you to agree and enjoy the day he’d planned.

He knew you hated when he – or anyone for that matter – made things about you; let alone a whole day. Being the center of attention was quite literally the last thing you ever wanted, closely followed by someone else spending money on you, but Mason couldn’t help it. You deserved everything good in this world.

“y/n.”, he mumbled, fingers tightening around yours a little. “Please.”

You really wanted to say no and tell him off; to ask him to go to a normal priced place, but this was his way of caring for you and saying thank you. He hadn’t taken you here because it was expensive, but because he knew you loved breakfast more than anything and he wanted you to enjoy something new.

“You know I don’t care about you buying me stuff, Mase.”, you mumbled, causing Mason to chuckle cause you indeed had told him about a million times already. “Breakfast is fine, but no more spending money on me please.”

“I won’t make any promises I can’t keep.”, he laughed, and you shot him a warning look, but it only made his cheeky grin become even wider. “And now please choose whatever catches your eye.”

Still hesitant, it took you a moment to decide, but at the end your curiosity and empty stomach got the better of you. Mason smiled when you gave your order, happy you’d given in as he knew you’d love it a lot.

The two of you fell into light conversation whilst waiting for your respective orders, discussing what the next weeks were going to look like.

After his injury had prevented him from playing, he was buzzing to be back this weekend and you were more than relieved to see the childlike excitement shining in his eyes again. He’d tried his best to hide his disappointment and sadness, but you’d seen right through it. Mason was born to play football and not being able to always took a toll on him.

“I’m really happy you’ll be back in the squad.”, you smiled. “I already talked to Anouska. She’s bringing the kids, so Ellie and I will be there too. Did I tell you that I got her a new shirt cause she outgrew the latest? It was a little tight around her shoulders and it looked a bit short too, and I just thought that-”

The strange look he was giving you stopped you mid-rambling. The smile he was wearing was one you’d never seen before and for some reason it made you blush.

“Why are you looking at me like that?”

Mason dropped his head as a breathy chuckle flew past his lips, before eventually locking his eyes back on yours.

“Sorry, I just…I don’t know it’s such a normal thing to notice probably, but…it just made me realise how much you actually do. Not only bringing her to my games, but also noticing things like her outgrowing her shirt...I’m probably not making a lot of sense right now, just…thank you.”

He reached for your hand again, his fingers squeezing yours in appreciation, but you couldn’t help and roll your eyes.

“Stop thanking me all the time, Mase.”, you laughed. “I love her and I love doing this for you both. Also, she needs to be taught some proper behaviour, can’t really leave her with just you for that can we?”

“Oi, that’s just rude. I’m a great role model.” Slightly offended, Mason pulled his hand away from yours as he gave you a nasty look, but you could see right through him. Obviously he knew you were just messing with him and the glint in his eyes told you exactly that.

“Sure you are, Mase.”, you grinned. “The poor girl would grow up between your stinky shoes and-”

The waiter bringing your food cut your little dig short, but your best friend still kicked your leg beneath the table in jest, earning himself a scolding scoff.

Just like Mason had promised, the food was terrific, making you think you could never have breakfast anywhere else without leaving unsatisfied. The two of you made some light and joking conversation whilst munching away and you realised just how much you’d missed spending time with just him.

Not that he did it on purpose, but sometimes you got the feeling that around you, he was a different person. He seemed more relaxed and less troubled by all the pressure he usually felt and you couldn’t help the wave of pride rushing over you. He had always been your save haven and to know you could be the same for him was priceless.  

“What would you like to do afterwards though? Any special requests?”

“I think I’d like to see the gardens.”, you admitted quietly, unsure if he was even up for it, but his smile just widened.

“Fletcher Moss?”

 “Yeah, I’ve always wanted to go.”, you nodded carefully. “I know it sounds boring cause it’s just a bunch of flowers and bushes and stuff, but-”

“y/n.” Mason interrupted you gently. The tips of his fingers brushing against yours. “It sounds perfect, okay?”

And that’s how a little less than an hour later, the two of you were walking through the seemingly endless greenery. Side by side, with his shoulder brushing against yours every once in a while.

“I missed this.”, you said when you stopped to look at a quiet and slightly hidden pond. Water lilies gathered at the top, blooming in pink and light rose colours.

“I thought you’ve never been?”

“Not the garden you wally.” You bumped your shoulder into his arm. “This. Spending time with you. With just you. I don’t know it’s…I just missed it.”

Mason sighed quietly, before pulling you right in front of him. He placed his hands on your shoulders, thumbs brushing the soft skin on the base of your neck as his eyes bore into yours and just like that it felt as if the air had shifted.

“I missed you too.”

There was a tiny turmoil in your tummy, causing all sorts of emotions to run through you all at once and for the first time you realised that some of the feelings you were harbouring for Mason weren’t as platonic as you’d thought they were.

You tipped your head back slightly when Mason leaned in a fraction. Your thoughts were running a mile an hour, barely giving you a second to try and get your head straight, but Mason’s fingers slightly tightening their grip on your neck grounded you ever so slightly.

When his nose rubbed against yours softly, your breath caught in the back of your throat.

“Mase.”

“I don’t know what I’d do without you, y/n.”

You stared into his eyes before your gaze dropped to his lips the same second his dropped to yours. The air around you felt electric and whilst it scared you like nothing ever had before, the thought of feeling his lips against yours had your heart tripping over itself.

Mason leaned in a bit more; the beat of your heart echoing loudly in your ears as his breath hit your lips.

“Elliott!” And all of sudden the spell was broken. “Don’t get too close to the water!” A mother screaming after her son jogged past on the other side of the past, causing you to pull away from each other quickly, filling you with a heavy feeling of disappointment.

Shyly, you dropped your gaze to your shoes. You could feel the blush creeping up your neck and cheeks and, in an attempt to distract yourself from the slight humiliation you felt, you kicked a pebble into the pond; watching the tiny waves causing bigger ones in the formerly calm water.

For a moment, it was quiet with only the birds chirping away. It was rarely ever quiet between you two and you wondered if what had nearly happened a second ago had tarnished your precious friendship. What if it was going to be weird from now on?

With his flushed cheeks Mason looked adorable, but the awkward giggle he let out the moment your eyes locked gave away that he felt as embarrassed as you. In an attempt to hide himself away, he dropped his face into your neck, arms circling your waist pulling you flush against his body and after a moment of gathering yourself, you hugged him back.

You had no idea for how long you stood there, simply holding each other, but after a while you could feel his heart slowing down. He pressed his lips to the warm skin on your neck before pulling away slowly.

His cheeks were still rosy, albeit a lot less than before and the cheeky grin was back on his lips. “Let’s go and get ice cream?”

You nodded slowly, wondering how on earth you were supposed to get back to before what just happened.

“Perfect.”, he smiled and with a final kiss to your forehead, Mason pulled away fully. You missed his warmth and proximity immediately; longing for him to wrap you back up against his chest, but instead he headed towards where you knew the ice cream stand was.

Had he genuinely wanted to kiss you? Or had it been the spur of the moment? Maybe you’d imagined all that and he’d questioned what you’d been doing all along?

“C’mon lazybones.”, he laughed. “It’s not that far.”

The relief that filled you when Mason wrapped his arm around your shoulders to keep you tugged away against your body should be considered pathetic, but there’d never been a place you felt safer and after your almost-kiss it felt even more special.

You knew he was your best friend in the whole world, but after years of being in denial, even you had to acknowledge how the atmosphere had shifted a little.

The two of you eventually got the ice cream he’d promised. You knew he wasn’t supposed to eat any of it, especially not as he was about to make his comeback, but you’d known him for long enough to be aware that every once in a while, he allowed himself some happiness – at least that’s what Mason kept calling it.

You’d recovered from the previous situation – neither of you mentioning it again – and were walking towards the exit when all of sudden, a girl came up to the two of you.

“Mase, hi.”, she smiled brightly; showing off her perfect set of pearly white teeth. Her smile was as gorgeous as the rest of her. She looked straight out of a magazine, and you couldn’t help but pull your shoulders up and hide away in Mason’s jacket. The one he’d insisted you put on as it had got a little chillier a while ago.

You watched how she greeted your best friend enthusiastically, pulling him into a hug and the way he wrapped his arms around her waist had a bit of acid raising in your tummy. This wasn’t how you greeted someone you barely knew…

And when all of sudden she eyed you questioningly, no doubt judging your appearance, you felt small. And insignificant. You knew it was stupid and he’d slap you silly for it, but her looks made you feel like you weren't worth Mason's company.

“Hi.”, she smiled after a while, extending her hand towards you. “I’m Rebecca.”

“y/n.”, you nodded, eventually shaking her hand. You didn’t like her one bit and judging by the glint in her eyes, neither did she you.

“So, she’s the nanny then? Where’s your little one Mase?”

The nanny? Your heart dropped. What had he told her?

Mason’s brows formed a deep frown. He stepped a little closer to you, his arm wrapping around your shoulder. Not that it had any significance, but it certainly felt like a tiny win.

“No, y/n isn’t the nanny. She’s my best friend and my daughter’s god mother.”

“Oh, well.”, Rebecca laughed melodically. “I’ll see you around then, y/n. I assume you’ll be around as much as me then.”

Rebecca left a little while after, leaving you with a bitter aftertaste in your mouth, but as much as you were dying to know what was going on between her and your best friend, you were too much of a coward to ask. Too afraid what he would say could hurt you a little too much.

The way back to Mason’s car was quiet; the air around you tense, but for the first time neither of you really knew what to say.

Even the drive home started off in silence, with just the radio providing that ounce of sound in the small space. You couldn’t remember the last time you’d felt this awkward around your best friend – if you ever had – but the confusion about the almost-kiss and then meeting Rebecca, who seemed to be someone serious to Mason had caused some sort of brain freeze.

Mason though, was unsure as of whether or not he should explain who Rebecca was. He hadn’t planned to kiss you, but the spur of the moment had caught up with him back then by the pond. He knew you felt weird about it all, but he didn’t have any explanation or whatsoever to offer; he only knew he didn’t want to say goodbye yet.

“Chinese or Italian?”

Surprised by him suddenly speaking up, you turned to look at him. Mason stared straight ahead, giving you a great view at his side profile. He looked gorgeous, as always and for a second, your gaze dropped to his lips.

“What?”

“I’m talking about take away.”, he said, lips curling into a soft smile when he reached out and squeezed your thigh. “Thought we’d get some dinner on our way back and watch a film. Like we used to.”

“Oh erm…Italian, I think.” You were a little surprised that after the whole day he wanted to spend the evening with you too. “Haven’t had a pizza in way too long.”

“Gigi’s it is then.”, Mason nodded. He gave your leg another squeeze; his palm remaining on your thigh for the rest of the drive.

Having dinner on his sofa slowly brought back normality between the two of you. Mason obviously managed to lighten the mood with some of the worst jokes he could find and whilst they never failed to make you wonder what was actually going on in his head, you laughed at every single one of them.

Once the plates were cleared away, Mason flopped down on the sofa. He wasn’t an overly tall man, but for some reason he always managed to take up the majority of space on that huge sofa of his.

“Don’t tell me you forgot how to cuddle?”, he laughed, stopping you from stepping closer towards the shorter – and unoccupied – space of the sofa. “C’mon sweetcheeks. You know where you belong.”

Mason shuffled a bit more towards the edge before holding his hand out and although there was this tiny doubt holding you back, you eventually accepted his hand and flopped down in the small nook between his warm body and the back of the sofa.

“See, that’s not too bad, is it?” You felt his arm wrapping around your shoulder, encouraging you to snuggle into him further and place your head on his chest. His familiar scent and warmth surrounded you almost immediately, settling your heart and also some of your worries.

After all it was you, he was cuddling now. No one else.

It didn’t take long for Mason’s hand to start wandering. With gentle pressure, he ran his fingers up and down your spine, causing you to hum in content. It had been way too long that you’d spent so much quality time together and you only now realised just how much you’d actually missed it. And how you desperately didn’t want this day to end.

“When do you have to pick up Ellie?”, you asked, but apparently your words had been muffled by the hoodie Mason had thrown on after dinner.

“What?”

Begrudgingly, you lifted your head. Mason was looking at you already; his lips pulled into a sweet, albeit slightly tired smile.

“When do you have to pick up Ellie?”, you repeated.

“At round about 8. Luke said Anouska wanted to make dinner and offered to watch Frozen with them so I wouldn’t have to kick you out too early.”

“You’re unbelievable, Mase. Getting rid of your poor little daughter.”, you laughed, but your heart skipped a beat as you were quite sure the initial plan had been to pick her up before.

“What can I say? There’s two important girls in my life and whilst they get along really well, sometimes I need to get rid of one to spend some proper time with the other.”

The cheeky grin on his lips had you blushing nearly as much as him calling you his girl, but it was him reaching out to trace your jaw softly that sent your heart into a frenzy.

“On a serious note though, thank you so much for today, Mase.” The look in his eyes softened a touch, as did his smile. “I didn’t realise just how much I needed a day like this and I appreciate everything you’ve done. Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome, y/n.”, he hummed. “I know you think I did this to thank you for all the things you’ve done, but I genuinely missed spending time with you and needed today as much as you. Like…you’ve been around a lot, but I missed you. I…does that make sense?”

“Yes.”

You watched a faint blush coating his freckled cheeks and making him look rather adorable and you couldn’t help but stare. Obviously, you’d noticed before that he was an incredibly handsome man – you weren’t blind after all – but you’d never looked at him the way you were doing now.

Somewhere in between stepping up and taking care of his daughter and today’s visit in the gardens, something had shifted dramatically, and you found it hard to ignore it.

Especially, as he kept staring into your eyes. His big brown ones bore into yours, making your skin prickle with nerves and your fingers tighten around the fabric of his hoodie. You were still half on top of his body, propped up on one arm whilst the other rested on his chest, but when Mason reached out and pushed a lose strand of hair behind your ear you felt like melting into his body.

His gaze flickered to your lips before jumping back to your eyes and just like that, it felt like you were back by the pond. The look in his eyes was captivating, basically forcing you to keep yours locked on his whilst your heart was threatening to burst through your ribcage.

“y/n.” His voice wasn’t more than a hoarse whisper; contributing to the intensity of the situation. You wanted to kiss him, you really wanted to, but instead, you dropped your gaze to his chest with flushed cheeks, breaking the spell reluctantly.

Mason dropped his hand from where it was cupping the side of your face, allowing you the freedom to lay back down. He kissed the top of your head and wrapped his arm back around your shoulders before focusing back on the film that was still playing.

Part of you felt awful as you hid away in his chest, wondering if you should’ve just gone for a kiss and see where it would’ve taken you, but there was this nagging feeling of doubt in the back of your mind, making you question everything.

It felt like you’d gone from 0 to 100 in less than a day and you couldn’t help but think it was rushed. Maybe it was just you reading too much into these two situations. Maybe it was you seeing things that weren’t actually there.

After all, there was still Rebecca…the thought of her and how she’d greeted Mason made your tummy churn. No matter how obvious today’s moments had seemed, there was no way he’d go for someone like you.

It was too late to do something about it when you felt your eyes growing heavy and with Mason pressing a gentle kiss to the top of your head, you eventually nodded off.

*

The next morning, you were mulling about your coffee. Your thoughts pretty much still all over the place, but with Ellie around, you tried your best to be up to your usual standard.

After Mason had woken you up the evening before to go and get his daughter, he’d asked you to stay, but you’d refused. The thought of sleeping over after everything that had happened had felt wrong, so you’d told him to drop you off on his way to Luke’s. He’d seemed a bit disappointed, but for you, it had been the best decision.

You’d spent half the evening overthinking every tiny detail and ended up working yourself up in a frenzy, terrified of it being weird from now on, but when you’d showed up at Mason’s this morning, everything had been back to normal.

“What about a walk, Ellie?”, you asked eventually. The little girl looking up at you with the same big brown eyes as her father and nodded furiously. By now she knew that going for a walk also meant spending time with you at the playground – something that had become one of her favourite things in the world. “Let’s get you dressed then, munchkin.”

You held her hand as you walked to her room to put some outdoor clothes on and since she only cared about leaving as soon as possible, little Ellie didn’t make much of a fuss of what you’d chosen for her to wear.

By the time Mason came back from training, you’d prepared dinner for later and cleaned most parts of his house. It wasn’t part of your agreement, but whenever you’d put Ellie down for a nap, there was little to do so you’d started to clean or at least tidy up.

“Daddy!” Ellie all but jumped out of your hold when Mason showed up in the living room. She ran over – as best as she could at her age – and fell straight into his wide opened arms.

“Hello love bug.”, he smiled widely before pressing smootches all over her little face, causing Ellie to wiggle in his arms, belly laughter falling from her lips and you couldn’t help but stare.

Mason was always amazing, no matter who he was with, but when Ellie was around, he seemed like the most carefree person. It was as if he could get his inner child out in a way he never dared to around others and you couldn’t be more thankful to see it.

“So, what’ve you and auntie y/n been up to today, hm?”, he hoisted her up into his arms and strolled over to where you were still sitting on the sofa. The kid’s book you’d been reading to Ellie still sat in your lap. “Oh you’ve been reading, yeah?”

“Peppa!”, Ellie exclaimed as she pointed out the pink pig on the front of the book. It was her absolute favourite thing to do.

“Well that’s amazing, bubs.” Mason kissed the top of his daughter’s head before leaning a bit closer to you, so he could whisper without Ellie hearing any of his words: “Bet auntie y/n isn’t tired of this book at all, is she?”

You laughed when he flicked the end of your nose in jest and shook your head. “No, not at all. I enjoy being able to quote a kid’s book by heart.”

After a quick chat – one that relieved some of the tension you’d still felt because of the day before – the three of you had decided to go outside again to try and tire out the little girl in hopes she’d be out like a light once you’d be back home, but for some reason, nothing you tried worked so you ended up walking back home with Ellie still being her energetic self.

“Good luck getting that one to sleep.”, you grinned, pointing at the brunette kid jumping up and down right in front of you.

“It’s definitely going to be one of those evenings.”, Mason sighed. “I can see it right in front of me already…me sitting by her bed, reading about 10 books and her still not being tir-” He stopped talking when he felt your hand grabbing his arm. Turning to look at you, he found your gaze settled on his front door. “Wha-”

“Ellie? Munchkin come over here please.” The little girl came straight up to you, her arms reaching out so you could pick her up and as if she sensed the change in atmosphere, she snuggled right into the crook of your neck.

You could tell the exact moment Mason recognised the person standing in front of his door. His pace quickened and he cast a quick and worried glance back at you, ushering you to stay back. And you did, but you could still hear the harsh sound of his voice loud and clear.

“What the fuck are you doing here?”

[llamagoddessofficial]

Thank you @radpunch for giving me an excuse for more Farmtale Sans... he's the love of my life

I don't usually do this, but I thought I'd add some recommended music for reading this piece. I listened to this the whole time I was writing, and I think it really adds to the vibe.

---

To anyone else, the sight of a body in a field neighbouring yours probably would’ve caused no small amount of alarm. Instead, you just sighed, finally laying down your shovel for the day and hopping the fence you had only just finished repairing.

The grass brushed against your hips as you walked, moving your feet as if wading through water. The evening sun caught the long, glimmering single stray cobwebs that trailed from the grass flower heads, and illuminated the tiny fluttering bodies of disturbed insects that fluttered up and away when you walked by. Though it was a pain to move through, you always liked when the field looked like this. It was your own romantic summer sea.

Eventually, you came across the ‘body’. Sans was lounging with his head propped up on a pile of empty seed bags, straw hat placed on his chest, sockets shut. The sun didn’t reach him now, the tall grass on all sides of him left a perfect little shady spot where he had nestled in. He looked very comfy... very peaceful. This wasn’t unusual at all, for him. He had a knack for finding hidden places to nap.

You crouched down. You could hear him faintly snoring. There was a tiny iridescent beetle sitting proudly on his bent knee, using the vantage point to observe its surroundings. It didn’t seem bothered by your presence in the slightest.

Sans was nice to look at. You had always considered him kinda good-looking, but he had grown more and more on you over time. Despite his brother being more classically ‘handsome’, with his high cheekbones, strong jawline and impressive physique, Sans was the one you found yourself getting caught staring at. He was... so easygoing. Not softspoken, too confident for that. Just never needing to raise his voice. Quick witted, strong, smart. Casual. Despite his silly straw hat, constantly muddy pants and crappy jokes, something about him was effortlessly cool. Effortlessly pretty.

And you were...

...

He had dirt on his cheekbone. Without thinking, you reached out, wiping it off. 

Before you could even blink, his hand snapped up, catching yours by the wrist. You let out a little inelegant shriek then slapped your free hand over your mouth in embarrassment - he snorted, sockets opening up, pretty fuzzy green eyelights landing on you. 

“well hello there,” he said, voice only mildly sleepy, with a gentle purr to it. He turned his face, and kissed your palm.

You shrieked a second time. Well... this one was more like a yelp, yanking your hand out of his grip as both of you descended into laughter. “Gross!”

You weren’t going to admit the move had given you butterflies. Nor that the way he was looking at you was making you feel things you didn’t have words for yet. You made a point of wiping your hand on your work pants.

“am i still asleep, or d’you just look like a dream to me?” he asked, leaning back, knitting his fingers together over his chest. 

“Charming.” Your tone just made him snicker. “The sun is setting. You getting up soon, or are you planning on sleeping under the stars tonight?”

Sans’ gaze was very soft. “hey, that actually don’t sound too bad. ‘specially if i had the right company.”

“True. Stargazing with someone is always nicer.”

“could always join me. room for two, in this patch.”

“Unlike you, I have to worry about ticks.” You flicked his shoulder. “I’ll think about it when the grass is cut.”

He grinned. “dang. never felt so motivated to do a chore before. s’that a promise, then? when i cut the grass you’ll come stargaze with me?”

You rolled your eyes. But there they were again; the butterflies. The thing with Sans was you never had any idea whether or not he was serious. He said entirely joking and entirely genuine things with the same tone of voice, the same smile, the same twinkling eyelights. Maybe in a few years you’d know him well enough to tell. Right now, though, you were much too afraid of embarrassing both of you by assuming his 'flirting' was anything but banter.

He finally sat up, and the beetle on his knee took off into the sky. It felt so cosy, somehow; the two of you were almost entirely below the top of the grass, hiding in a tiny den. It smelled like... well, grass, duh. But a specific kind of grassy smell - sweet and dry, more like hay, summery and clear. It reminded you of playing outside as a child until the sun had long gone down. 

“you been exertin’ yerself? all red.”

“Yeah, I’ve just been fixing the fence.” A lie and a truth. You had been fixing the fence, but it was a menial chore that hadn’t required huge amounts of strain. The blushing was from something else.

“ah, jeez." A break in his easy mood. "we’re still really sorry about that. pap is absolutely mortified, think he's set aside a whole load of crop for you.”

The brothers’ goat had managed to break through several fences, including yours, to take a 'visit' to your garden. You’d found her in your flowerbed, happily eating the tops off the marigolds you were going to cut and take to market. 

You’d never seen someone more apologetic than when Papyrus showed up to bring her home. The animal still had bright yellow petals in her beard as he led her away.

“It’s alright,” you said, warmly. “it wasn't like it was malicious or anything. Animals get out. I don’t think I’ve ever met a more sweet-natured goat anyway.”

“should’ve told me you were fixing that fence. i would’ve helped out.”

“Oh would you have?” Your tone was mock-suspicious. “How convenient that you waited until I was finished to tell me that.”

His sockets raised at the corners. “i’m serious! you doubtin’ my honesty? dang. thought we were close.”

Uh oh. Butterflies again. You swerved, doing your best to avoid it.

“So does your brother know you’re out here?”

“course not,” he snickered. “he still thinks i’m working.”

“Maybe I should go tell him that you’re flunking. I’m certain he already knows, he just needs to catch you in the act.”

He put his hat back on his head. “well. guess now i have to kill you.”

You laughed - and in the shade, entirely missed the little green shimmer across his cheekbones.

“How’s the day been then, sleepyhead?”

He shrugged, picking at some of the flattened grass. “busy. exactly how you think late summer on a farm would be. harvestin’, packin’ stuff up. lotsa ploughing. even with magic, it’s hard work. i’m just stealing whatever breaks i can find. you?”

You gave him a look. “You came over yesterday. You know how I'm doing.”

He leant over, lightly elbowing you. “c’mon. i’m doin’ the small talk thing. can’t leave me hangin’ here.”

“So now you’re guilt tripping me? You’re a real piece of work.”

That got another snicker out of him. He was so handsome when he laughed. 

Sans always liked knowing what was going on in your life. It was weird, you never saw him do that with anyone else; it had taken you a while to notice it but even with his closest friends he didn’t talk half as much as he did with you. The first time you’d seen him talking to Toriel you had thought he was in a bad mood, with how little he engaged, how simple his questions were, how sparingly he spoke.

“BAD MOOD? WHAT DO YOU MEAN?”

“Sans just didn’t seem very chatty tonight. Did something happen?”

“OH? OH! NYEHEHEHEH, HOW FUNNY! SANS WAS COMPLETELY NORMAL TONIGHT, HUMAN, DON’T YOU WORRY. THIS IS HOW HE ALWAYS IS AT GET-TOGETHERS.”

“But he...”

“HE’S JUST MUCH CHATTIER WITH ME AND YOU.”

You liked to think he felt safe around you. You definitely felt safer around him, that was for sure. 

You pulled your knees up to your chest, relenting under his gaze. “Okay okay, fine. I’m doing alright, I guess. The old trees came right back to life as soon as the thickets were cleared away. There’s already fruit, they just need another year or so to get market ready.”

“and yer flowers? they sellin’ well?”

“It’s a good way to plug the money gaps in the meantime. Living in the age of the internet definitely helps, there’s lots of information floating around that has made it so much easier for me to get started. I dunno. It’s alright.”

You wanted to stop talking. You looked away, staring off into the ‘forest’ surrounding you, the waning sunset catching certain blades and turning them into a warm burning orange. In the distance you could hear the rolling and bubbling singing of a particularly loud bird somewhere overhead.

Despite your desire to shut up, Sans wasn’t about to let you. His lovely eyelights just continued to bore into you. 

“i can hear a ‘but’ in there.”

...

You sighed. Oh well. Who else were you going to be able to talk to?

“I thought the impostor syndrome would be gone by now.”

He cocked his head. You had no choice but to continue. 

“I’m just... I still feel like I’m not part of this. My mind hasn’t settled in. Every day is a confusing fight where I feel like I barely make it out the other side. Most of my flower boxes are stuck together with tape and hope.” You settled your chin onto your knees, sulking. “Every time things start to make sense, and I feel like I’m finally starting to get some solid ground, another problem shows up. Another thing breaks. Another bug I didn’t know existed is eating the fruit, another tree disease I have to prep against otherwise it might wipe out the orchard, another colony of aphids eating the flowers. I can’t win.”

“sounds pretty normal to me.”

You looked up from your knees. “Does it?” 

“that’s just life, ain’t it?” He had somehow shuffled closer to you, entirely without you noticing. “there’s always some new problem. if ya ask me, sounds exactly like a day on our farm. one of the ducks is injured, a coop is leaking, chicken got eaten in the night, goat escaped and ate the neighbour’s flowers. nothing goes how you expect. if you ask me, you’re doing great.”

You hummed. “Doesn’t feel like it.”

“doin’ good on paper, too. human from the suburbs moves to the countryside and buys an abandoned orchard. most of the time that ends in disaster. but yer trees are fruiting, could be ready in a single year, the flowers are already bloomin’ and sellin’ at the market. not sure how you could do any better.”

... You couldn’t help but feel warm. Especially on your face again. Partially because of his kind words, yes... but mostly because he seemed so intent on making you feel less bad. It made your chest all fluttery.

“... Thank you,” you mumbled. "that does make me feel better."

“course. anytime. just wish you’d ask for help, more.”

The bird from earlier started singing again. You glanced up, but could see nothing from within the little 'den'.

“Any idea what that bird is?”

He leant back. One hand, conspicuously, resting on the ground just behind your back. “s’a skylark.”

“... Skylark.” 

You stared up into the clear evening sky. You weren’t great with bird names, but you’d definitely remember that. 

...

Feeling like he was looking at you, you turned to the side. Sans was looking at you - and his face was only really a few inches from yours. Close enough that if he tilted his head down a bit, the top of his straw hat would bump against your hair. His expression was calm... a lot calmer than you felt. The two of you quietly held eye contact, and the skylark continued to sing.

... Suddenly, and with no apparent trigger, you felt immensely flustered by the proximity. You pulled back, shuffling, unceremoniously dragging yourself to your feet and brushing off your pants. Your head popped up above the grass; immediately, some tiny birds scattered up and away, sun shining into your eyes.

“I should head home.” You were messing needlessly with your hair. “Dinner isn’t going to make itself.”

Sans looked up at you, for a few silent moments. You couldn’t read his face at all, the only thing you knew was that his smile was very soft.

“agh, i should head out too,” he eventually said, not standing, but folding his arms behind his head and stretching. “need to get home. pap probably thinks i fell into a ditch.”

You put your hands on your hips. “Then you can finally rest, after a long hard day of skipping your chores?”

He chuckled. “why of course.”

“Pft. Say hi to Papyrus for me.”

“sure thing. later, doll.”

With that, you headed back across the field, leaving Sans to pretend to wake up. Knowing him he had probably laid down and gone straight back to sleep.

... You put your hand over your chest, now that you were out of sight, trying to still your fluttering heart. It wasn’t really any use.

The more time you spent with Sans, the more you realised you were falling for him.

///---///

Sans watched you walk away, the golden light catching in your hair.

... He sighed, stretching again, before finally actually dragging himself to his feet. The green flush became more prominent on his face as he stopped to watch a skylark hovering just over the grass before tilting its wings and dancing away.

He’d been completely serious about the stargazing. Once again, you thought he was joking, his own persona had bitten him in the ass. He’d wanted to tell you as you were leaving - he’d wanted to finally put his foot down and make a date out of it, ask you when you were free and do what he’d been dreaming of doing for weeks. 

But just like always, when you’d looked at him, he’d completely fallen to pieces. The words had gotten stuck in his nonexistent throat. And by the time he’d shaken himself out of his stupor, you were already leaving.

Sans just sighed, adjusting his hat. 

“... next time,” he hummed. "there's always next time."

With that, he shortcutted home.

[pursuitseternal]

“The Seventh Day:” filled with self indulgent A!A behavior (Astarbation) in “Antics of the Newly Ascended”

Ascended Astarion x F!Reader | E | 1.9K of Astarion self-love

🎨 by @marimosalad full nsfw on X 🍆💦

Summary: Left behind, Astarion occupies his Ascended self first with some uncharacteristically (selfishly-motivated) selflessness, followed by some self-served reward in anticipation for your return home.

CW: Male masturbation (Astarbation?), panty sniffer/theif, he’s trying to be a helpful (selfishly), self-indulgent Astarion, Reflection Appreciation™️, he would be such a messy partner (in so many ways)

Previous Ch | ao3 link | Masterlist

The Seventh Day…

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

“Oh… darling, I’m hurt. I thought we had something special…”

“You always say that, and you’re always hurt…” you fold your arms and tilt your chin up at him.

“Am not,” Astarion fires back, petulant like a child, until he realizes everyone is watching your exchange. He straightens his spine and picks the pretend lint off the cuff of his sleeve. “You go right along… you’re the leader after all, and if you think you can finish your business without the Vampire Ascendant in your ranks, then go, have fun…”

You level that glare at him that lets him know you see right past his facade to the bullshit underneath.

“No, really,” he purrs, “you go, I’ll just stay here while… you do all the hard work.” He gives you that arrogant smirk and tilt of his head, that makes you war inside whether you want to slap him silly or fuck him senseless. He can see it… in your thoughts, in the way your heart pounds slow and harder as his eyes look down your armored figure. “I’ll just stay here, tend the home fires and find little ways to comfort myself over your absence, darling.”

He flashes his fanged smirk at you, your nostrils flaring wide with irritation and lust. “Don’t make a mess,” you taunt. “Enjoy your alone time.” With that you spin on your heel and your chosen three follow.

Wyll in particular laughs loudest. “Don’t worry, once he finds a mirror, he’ll be entertained for hours, I’m sure.”

The group chortles as they shut the door to their rooms in the Elfsong, but not before you throw one more look over your shoulder at your lover. He’s just smirking, irritated and conflated despite his wounded pride, making a show for you in that one moment of unbuckling his armor to drop it at his feet.

You shake your head and smile, all the irritation you have melted into love as you blow him a kiss. Then you shut that door.

The instant the door is shut, Astarion grimaces and throws the rest of his armor to the ground in a huff. Petulant? Yes, but also hurt. He looks around the empty suite of rooms, collecting his armor, he decides to actually put it away properly for once back in his rooms. Your rooms. Besides, he has no interest in watching Scratch nap by the fireplace, or risk any of the other ‘strays’ who have joined along the way come up and bother him.

With a discontented sigh, Astarion slinks his way into your rooms alone. That open chest for his armor is so close inside the door, but he sets it down on the floor. See how she likes that… he smirks, imagining your usual comments made under your breath about his messiness as you insist on tidying up. You’ll have to step over it when you come back exhausted and bloodied.

A slight pang of guilt tweaks his gut, his eyes settle on it again, that pile of his armor… the stack of messy clothes—yours and his— discarded hurriedly last night before your fucked… A slight disgruntled smile crosses his face. Maybe… just this once…. He could entertain himself in a different way.

He starts putting the armor in the trunk piece by piece, and with each one he starts to think about how much you will smile as you see your rooms.

Another piece in the trunk… he can almost feel your blush color your cheeks at his thoughtfulness. Your gratitude will be palpable… and you will want to shower him with affection… willingness… Astarion sighs to think about how you will positively reek of sweat and blood and arousal when you see what he’s done for you, his darling.

He closes the lid of the storage chest with an eager groan, that ache in his groin blooming slightly just at the thought of what will come once you’re home. You’ll positively worship at his feet for taking such good care of you…

That ache burgeons into a full erection at the image he’s conjured in his mind. With one final grunt, he picks up the pile of discarded clothing from last night, setting it properly in the basket, one rumpled thing of fabric at a time in the corner to be laundered later. One hand adjusts his erection, the other holds the last piece of fabric from the floor. Your undergarments.

He pauses, catching your scent in the air just as he wraps his hand around himself…

… he’s just trying to fix that hardness… he tells himself. But he can’t help but give that cock in his grasp a little rub.

He hisses, trying to catch his breath, but his nose only fills with your scent stronger the longer he holds your small clothes in his grip.

“Fuck it,” he growls to himself, unceremoniously sitting himself on the edge of the bed, surrounded by a tidy room. Surely, he deserves his own reward. And your own laziness last night to dispose of your underwear properly has just gifted him with a great incentive. That soft fabric, inundated with your musk, makes his mouth water. He just… has to…

He presses it to his nose, his cock freed from the top of his leathers as he slowly starts to caress it. It feels so good in his hand: the perfect length, the flawless width, the impressive hardness he always gets that makes every vein rise to the surface like marble. The masterpiece of a body that he is, he smirks to himself.

Another deep whiff of that delicious scent, he looks to the side, that large mirror so perfectly placed across from the bed, his idea. His eyes flit between watching his own cock pulse in his fist, staring at the perfection is his own reflection, and closing his eyes to take another deep lung-full of your scent.

Intoxicating, the beat of his own warm hand matches that pulse of his heart, a pounding so insistent in those veins. So steady and growing more pronounced even as he still works himself into bliss. Astarion gives a contented sigh, his thumb catching over that sweet, weeping slit to wet his cock head with early cum.

Indulgent, the way the faded ghost of your musk compliments his own as it grows with every leaking stroke he makes over his own shaft. No wonder you two are so destined for greatness, so perfect together… your bodies made for one another on some primal level, right down to your scents.

A few breaths catch in his throat, the corner of his eye now fixed on that mirror. He pauses to pull his shirt up higher, his leathers down lower, wanting to see more of himself, a body that has ruined so many… Small wonder, he laughs a bit darkly, a bit proudly. The edges of his abdominals protrude, just right, that deep v of his muscles drawing the eye inexorably to that now-glistening cock. Even his balls, so smooth and round and tight now as he feels the pleasure building deep in his core.

For once, now, this body is his to savor, to command and pleasure.

“Ahh…” the thought of reclaiming himself makes his cock leap almost out of his own hand. “Delicious,” he groans to no one but himself. Leaning back, he lets his hips buck into his hand a bit, just for a little extra show… a little more stimulation as his mouth starts to hang slack. He lets that fabric treasure of your underwear slip off his face, just a bit, so he can admire the way his own fangs glint in the sunlight.

Now, those weapons behind his lips, those fangs, those are something just for him, a decadence no one gets to enjoy but you… and himself now of course. With a groan, he longs to sink them into flesh, to feel that first burst of blood as it breaks through skin to coat his hungry tongue. And in his carelessness, he finds it, nipping his own lip to taste his own ascendant blood.

Rich… full… powerful… familiar… he groans. Incredible that you get to drink from him, what a treat for his consort and for himself. The thought of you suckling from his own neck, the play of your breath on his skin as you feed, shivers run down the base of his spine, making his muscles clench and his cock buck harder into his hand.

You’ll be so touched when you see what he’s done for you, his little act of humility to gain your immense gratitude… fuck… it’ll be worth it. The back breaking labor he’s done to please you and make you smile and see his love for you still, even with all he’s become.

Your eyes will sparkle, your lips will arch in that come-hither smile you give him… you won’t be able to resist letting him take you right then and there, however he wants…

His eyes flash to the mirror, the paint of blush on his cheeks and tips of his ears…. It makes his fist grip tighter, his hand beat faster to chase that pressure that needs release. The breath catches in his lungs, his teeth gritting as he feels his balls tighten and cock thicken as he strokes faster and faster…

Another glance at his beloved reflection— that slow seep of pearly cum leaking from his cock… perfection, seduction incarnate, he smirks to himself as he arches and his head cranes backwards. Grunting, sighing, he licks his lips as that pressure in his balls bursts at last, a few more erratic bucks into his fist, as he forces his eyes open to watch.

He juts his hips out forward, almost off the edge of the bed, angled just right to watch his cum explode out gloriously. The reflection, the pulsing he feels, the warmth that drips on his hand…

Head hanging down, tongue licking his lips, he watches as his cock twitches a few more times, that release overwhelming him as he huffs with open mouth. Drips of his cum spatter here and there on the floorboards, the few offending signs of…

The door swings open, you stand panting in its frame, a bit bloodied but none of it your own. Your sharp eyes take in the scene… your love panting, cock in hand, rosy post-coital cheeks flaring a hot pink as you catch him in his indulgence. And all you can do is smirk, knowing you have the upper hand on him, shaking your head as he starts to sputter excuses.

Then you notice what he holds in his other hand, your discarded undergarments from last night. Now your cheeks flame so hot, you’re pretty sure even your undead pale skin is blushing. “What…” but you swallow the question. Why ask it… you know full well what he was doing with your intimates. “I’ll skip the question and just point out that I left you alone for an hour… and you’ve made…” you smirk wickedly as you cross to kneel before him, “… such a mess.”

“Actually, darling, you’ve failed to see that I cleane—”

But before he can get whiny and defensive, you silence him, wrapping your mouth around his still, weeping cock. You moan around his length, not giving it lots of force, just a lazy bob of your head, a slow lick of your tongue. A few swirls of your lips laps all the extra cum from his velvety skin. Then you pull off of him, grinning with all your own self-righteous taunting. “That’s… how you clean, my lord.”

[thebeast-dennis-etcetera]

Always There

Note: I know I’ve been MIA for a while but the “writer block” bug bit me good. Anyways, hope I can apologize better with this Gibbs Prompt!

Prompt: Gibbs has a panic attack after hearing old military footage.

"Tony, knock it off, you're gonna make me drop it and then we're all gonna be in trouble," you warned the overly excited agent as he made grandous hand motions near the tray of coffees you had.

"Oh come on, Y/N. I know you're just as excited as me. You're the biggest crime noir movie nerd I know."

You just smiled at his theatrics as the both of you exited the elevators and walked towards the bullpen, where the rest of the team was waiting.

"Tony been talking your ear off about the new Gregory Haines film?" McGee asked as you handed over his coffee with an eyeroll.

"You have no idea. It took him 10 minutes just to order his coffee because he was busy talking about the trailer with the barista."

You handed Bishop her loaded breakfast bagel and latte before finishing with Gibbs' tall black coffee. He was quietly engrossed in whatever case file was on his desk, barley looking up to greet you. It was unusual of him since you two were kind of a thing now. Of course no one knew about it, but for the last 3 months or so, you and Gibbs had been going on late night dates and hanging out at each others houses, occasionally sleeping together.

You blamed his distant behavior on keeping a professional cover with you so as not to arise any suspicion from the team, but kept a reminder in your head to ask him about it later.

"But she just can't help going back to him, totally oblivious to the fact that he's actually the town murderer-

"DiNozzo. Are you able to focus today?" Gibbs inquired in irritation, irrupting Tony's lengthy synopsis to Bishop. His tone was a bit more gruff than usual, even throwing Tony off a bit.

"Uh, yeah. Sorry boss. Back to work."

As Tony took his seat at his desk, McGee pulled up a picture of a very obvious decomposed body being pulled from the water. "Master Sargent Gantry, was found by local police, washed up on the shore 2 days ago. Shot in the head, the county's ME determined the cause of death to be a suicide after tracing the trajectory of the bullet and the linking it to the Master Sargent's missing sidearm that the police found when doing a sweep of the lake." Using the clicker, he changed the screen so that it showed a picture of a plastic bag filled with what looked like letters and a personal recording device. "Unfortunately, a couple days later, they also found this vacuum sealed bag containing letters to the Master Sargent and a recording of an unidentified male admitting to friendly fire during a firefight back in Iraq of 1991."

"1991? Wasn't that-

Before Bishop could finish whatever historical fact she had in mind, she was interrupted by Gibbs.

"Operation Desert Storm."

All of you turned to look at him as he stood up from his desk, coffee in his hand.

"DiNozzo and McGee, I want you two getting all the information you can from Master Sargent Gentry's time in the Marine Corps. Find out if anyone had any problems with him that would suggest motive. Bishop, I want all the records pulled from the ME that did Gentry's autopsy, talk with Ducky and Palmer. Y/N, you're with me. Abby and Sloan are going over the recording found with our victims body."

No one dared asked any follow up questions as all the clues were adding up. His more than usual grumpiness, the distant look in his eyes. You all knew Gibbs served in Desert Storm so seeing what looked like a fragging on a superior officer and possible friend, would definitely offput him.

You caught up to him as he entered the elevator, destined to the lab. It was quiet for a few seconds before you decided to speak.

"You ok?

He just nodded, but didn't speak further on it. Once the doors opened, you were following behind as he entered Abby's lab, where Sloan was already waiting. She looked just as worried as you felt.

"Whadya got Abbs?"

"Ok, so luckily for us, the letters and recording were vacuum sealed in a plastic bag, preserving them perfectly. The letter don't give any names or clues as to who wrote them but when I listened on the recording, I found something."

Gibbs nodded to her, to which she turned to her computer and clicked a button, immediately filling the lab with loud sounds of machine guns firing. It was the only time you had ever seen Gibbs visibly flinch. As you all listened to the audio clearly describing a firefight with enemy forces, you noticed the change in Gibbs' demeanor. He seemed to stand rigid as his free hand slowly closed itself in a fist, while the other adjusted holding his coffee in almost a nervous manner.

Are they coming from the south side or not?!

Who's got eyes on that treeline?!

The sounds of bullets ricocheting off of metal could be heard as a couple of men cursed before returning fire.

Check your fire Watts!

Did I hit him?! Tell me I didn't hit him Sarge! Is he moving?!

You could see the hard swallow come from Gibbs as he turned towards the exit, glancing quickly over you before looking away. In that split second, you identified exactly what he was feeling. Panic.

"That's enough Abby," you spoke, making her quickly stop the recording in concern. You looked over at Sloan who was also know focused on Gibbs.

"You alright Gibbs?" she asked tentatively.

He cleared his throat and nodded before heading to leave. "Send the recording to DiNozzo and McGee. Have them identify the voices."

As he walked out, he threw his full cup of coffee away in the trash, confirming that something wasn't right. As Sloan made an attempt to follow him, you stopped her.

"I got it. You stay with Abby."

He had almost managed to escape you through the elevators but you threw your arm in between the doors, causing them to open back up as you slipped in.

As the elevator began it's accent, you watched as Gibbs leaned his head back against the wall, eyes shut, and began breathing a bit heavier than before. Knowing, he would never want anyone to see him like this, you hit the emergency stop button and went over to him.

"Gibbs. It's me, y/n. Can you hear me?"

He didn't answer, but instead turned to face the wall, hands gripping the railing till his knuckles were white. You knew at this point, he was fully immersed in a panic attack and couldn't talk. He was now breathing through his mouth, eyes still shut and you knew if you didn't so something, he was gonna start hyperventilating.

So you squeezed yourself underneath his arms so that it was you between him and the wall and wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling his head down to hear you.

"Jethro, it's me. You're having a panic attack and I need you to slow your breathing for me, alright?"

He shook his head in defiance as his jaw clenched and unclenched.

"Just listen to me. Listen to my voice. You're here with me. We're in the elevator, no one else is here."

You were surprised when he used one arm to wrap around your waist, squeezing you tightly, as the other stayed gripped to the railing.

"I- I can hear them-

Your heart broke at the sound of his voice. He sounded defeated and almost scared, causing you to hold him tighter. Still, you whispered the same words over again, hoping to bring him out of the obvious memory he was reliving.

"You're not there anymore. It's over, you're here now. With me. In the elevator. Bishop is down in the bullpen. Ducky and Palmer are in autopsy. Vance is in his office."

You recited everything to him, describing all the details.

"Just breath with me Jethro. Deep breath in, deep breath out. Keep doing that."

You practiced normal breathing with him until you finally felt some of his body relax. His other hand eventually let go of the railing and joined his other arm to wrap around you. His grip was still tight and his face was buried in the crook of your neck but his breathing was a lot better. Now you began to feel his body start trembling as all the adrenaline was slowly finding ways to leave him.

You knew the worst of it was over and you didn't need to talk anymore, but just hold him and stay with him until he was back in control. You ran your fingers through his hair in the same motion over and over again while making sure to take in deep breaths.

Once you felt his grip loosen and take a step back, you wiped your own tears that had fallen and smiled gently up at him. He quickly wiped his eyes and cleared his throat, obviously somewhat embarrassed about what happened but as he turned to look away from you, you pulled his face towards yours and kissed him.

You heard him sigh into the kiss as he pulled you back into his arms.

"Thank you," he said, moving to nuzzle your neck again.

"Of course. I'll always be there for you Jethro."

The both of you took a few more minutes to pull yourselves together before facing the rest of them team, which you knew were gonna have a lot of questions after Abby filled them in on what happened.

But none of it mattered as you smiled slightly to yourself, feeling closer to Gibbs than ever before.

[storiesofsvu]

Decadent Desires Ch 3

Emily Prentiss x reader warnings: language, alcohol, minor political conversation, minor mentions of sexual encounters.

It was the sound of your coffee pot automatically brewing that originally roused you from sleeping, the beeping signalling it was done the reason you finally got out of bed. Traipsing down the stairs still in your silk pj set you yawned, starting to stretch out your body, dropping your phone on the breakfast bar before padding through the living room to open the blinds. The sun slowly rising through the sky and you deemed it warm enough to crack one of the windows, letting yourself actually get some fresh air on a work day. Wandering back to the kitchen you pulled down a coffee mug, adding a bit of creamer from the fridge before filling it with coffee. Right as you went to take your first sip, your phone buzzed on the countertop and you let out a huff, scooping up the device to a text from Heather.

‘You can work from home, it’s a low day.’

‘Thank god. I really didn’t want to put real clothes on.’

‘Well you’ll have to at some point. You’ve got lunch at Old Ebbitt Grill at two.’

‘Who am I schmoozing for you?’

‘Emily Prentiss.’

‘The fed from yesterday? What’d’ you need with the FBI?’

‘She asked to meet with you. You’ll have to discuss it with her.’ ‘Put it on my card.’

‘Alright. Thanks.’

‘Wear that Tom Ford blouse I like so much.’

‘The blue one?’

‘It brings out your eyes.’

‘I’m beginning to think you might have ulterior motives going on here...’

‘Enjoy your lunch.’

You dropped the phone back onto the counter with a huff, knowing you weren’t getting another word out of her on the subject. It wasn’t unlike Heather to send you in to do a certain level of dirty work when it came to getting other politicians to do what she wanted. It was technically part of your job, she would simply just suggest you use your assets in a way she couldn’t to get them to lean her way, and it almost always worked. Still, you couldn’t possibly imagine what a Section Chief from the FBI would want with your skill set, surely the bureau had their own type of publicists to deal with whatever kind of a situation this was.

You glanced to the clock above the stove to find it was barely eight o’clock and nearly debated going back to bed but you knew that was a bad idea and turned to your coffee instead. You thought about what to do for breakfast while you grabbed your work phone and laptop from your bag, setting them up on the breakfast bar before opening the fridge. You settled on some easy eggs and avocado on toast and restarted the coffee machine to brew a fresh pot, turning on an instrumental playlist on your phone to get your day going and your brain running.

Finished with the food, you refilled your coffee and settled in at the counter to start sorting through emails, shooting one off to Heather with reminders of all the upcoming week’s appointments, meetings and appearances. The rest of the morning felt rather dull, the anticipation of lunch piquing your curiosity more often than not, sending you down spirals rather than focusing on your actual work. You caught yourself leafing through FBI websites and any news articles you could get your hands on, and considering the status you held, that was more than the general public.

Finally around eleven thirty your brain couldn’t get through another email and you opted to jump over to the gym for a quick workout to distract yourself for a bit. You left more than enough time to shower, making sure you were fresh and styled, selecting the blue blouse Heather had recommended before finally leaving your house.

Old Ebbitt Grill wasn’t far, it only took you ten minutes to get there, especially considering the lack of midafternoon traffic. You’d been there a few times before, a standard choice for business lunches among the elite of Washington, close enough to Capitol Hill that it was convenient but just far enough away that it was slightly more away from eavesdropping ears. You pulled up the drive in front and were offered valet service that you accepted, passing off a five for a tip before heading inside where you were greeted by a young bubbly hostess.

“Hi,” you smiled back, “reservation at two, could be under Walton, Prentiss or Dunbar. I think it’s only for two.”

Her finger began scanning through the reservation look in search of one of the names, “oh! There you are.” She beamed up at you, “Walton for two. You’re the first to arrive, would you like to wait or be seated?”

“I’ll sit.” You laughed softly, “god knows I could use a drink.”                                                    

“Of course, right this way.”

You were led past the bar area to the dining room and directed to a green velvet back booth, white table cloth adorning the table. You slid in as the hostess scooped up the extra place settings and wine glasses,

“Can I get something started for you?”

“Uh… two waters and a glass of pinot grigio would be fantastic, thanks.”

With another smile she was gone from the table and you were left to settle in, glancing at your watch you realized you were practically twenty minutes early and let out a soft sigh. Punctuality was almost too much of your strong point, but at least you were never late for things. You scanned the menu quickly, sliding it off to the side to pull out a work file that you’d been putting off looking through, thanking the server that came back with your drinks.

*

When Emily entered the restaurant she wasn’t entirely too sure what she was getting into, it almost felt weird to be doing this during the day, especially on what was technically a work day. She’d gotten an out of office lunch and work from home afternoon approved so she didn’t have to drive back, and it was Friday so she just kept telling herself it was an early weekend. The hostess picked up right away that she was meeting someone and offered up your last name to confirm before guiding her through the room.

The moment they were through the bar Emily had eyes on you, neatly tucked into a booth, a pen in your hand and a file folder in front of you that all your attention was focused on. Your hair was pulled back off your face but most of it still down and loosely styled. The make up on your face was slightly more detailed than it had been when she’d met you at the office, a little heavier around the eyes, a slightly less neutral lip. Your outfit hugged your frame, accentuating your body perfectly, blue top dipping slightly to expose a tasteful amount of cleavage, black pencil skirt leaving just enough leg out to be admired, and of course designer heels on your feet. It was all accented with a silver bracelet, necklace resting on the swell of your chest and jeweled earrings to match your shirt. You glanced up at the movement coming toward you, a smile taking over your face as you greeted her.

“Agent Prentiss,” you smiled as she slipped into the booth, “or, is that a demotion? Should it be Section Chief Prentiss?”

“That’s way too much of a mouthful.” She laughed, “just Emily’s fine.”

“Alright.” You shot her a grin, flipping the file shut and capping the pen before you slid it back into your purse, “sorry, work never ends.”

“I didn’t keep you waiting, did I?” While she was concerned she may have been late, she was happy to see that you were completely content on your own, and that you took work on the go, already another green flag in her book.

“Oh not at all, I have a habit of being insanely early wherever I go.”

There was a slight pause as the server came over to ask about drinks and Emily glanced towards you, your eyes flicked to your half empty glass and you thought about it for a second.

“You may as well bring another one.”

“Heather okay with you drinking on the clock?” Emily asked with a small grin.

“Have you met a politician who doesn’t?” You laughed, “you know… I think that’s the biggest difference between our branches of government, you’re usually armed. The only weapons we carry are our words and nefarious blackmail.”

Emily chuckled at that, watching as you took a sip, “well I took a half day.” She turned to the server, “I’ll have a sauvignon blanc please.”

A few moments later they returned with Emily’s wine and the two of you placed an order for a round of appetizers consisting of scallops, beet and burrata, calamari and the bread service. Conversation flowed easily enough, chatting here and there about the day, how the weather seemed to finally be warm enough to enjoy being outside, little tidbits about work. Emily found joy in the fact that you could keep up with her when she mentioned work, that it didn’t take an extra three tangents of explaining details for you to understand what she meant. By the time the food came out, the two of you were fully comfortable around each other and after a bite of a scallop, you decided to make the jump to attempt to get to the point.

“So, I know I’ve heard that the BAU’s in a bit of hot water right now, but I didn’t think you needed a full PR takeover. Don’t you have your own communications team for those kind of things?”

Emily stalled, quickly popping a piece of calamari into her mouth to spare her a few seconds to figure out how to start things. “Uhm….” She swallowed the food down, chuckling awkwardly, “that’s not exactly why I wanted to meet. Heather… recommended you for something else.”

“Ah…” You leant back against the booth, your elbow draping over the back of it, “I knew Heather had ulterior motives about today but I didn’t realize she was passing me off to utilize the extra skill set.” You chuckled, having now figured out exactly what Emily was alluding to, but you weren’t going to let her off that easy, you wanted to hear her say it. The corner of your lips twitched up at the way she tensed across the table from you and you went in with another tease and false lead. “You want to know what other PR teams I’m close with, whose assistants have loose lips or an axe to grind, dig up a little dirt on someone. Director Bailey? AG? Who’s the thorn in your side, hmm?”

The knot in her stomach burst at the latter part of your sentence, suddenly distracted she glanced up at you with a furrowed brow, “wait, you could really get in with the AG for me?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded over a sip of wine, “she thinks she’s a good friend, would you like me to do some nosing around?”

“No, no.” She waved you off, “that could get you in trouble.”

“Emily, believe me, with most of them all you need is a few too many glasses of wine, a little flattery, maybe a hint of an illegal substance and they’ll tell you whatever you want.”

She let out a low laugh, “I’m going to ignore that last part.” You chuckled as she picked up her wine, taking another sip while you scooped up another scallop. “You certainly have some kind of pedigree, don’t you?”

“I had a lot of ladders to climb to get where I am now, and a decent education and quick thinking always helps.”

“Was PR always the goal, or did you have your eye on Capitol Hill?” She asked and you nearly snorted.

“Where I am is where I want to be. Communications Major at UCONN, followed by a stint at Georgetown.”

“What does a ‘stint’ consist of?” She asked with a raised brow.

“Just a little law degree, never really intended to use it just wanted the knowledge.”

“Did you write the bar?”

“Mmhm.” You nodded, taking another sip of wine, “passed with flying colours. Just never really saw myself as a lawyer, fighting in courtrooms isn’t my style.”

“So why bother with the extra three years then?”

You shrugged, “Heather paid for it. Said if I was overqualified for a role I could bargain for better pay.”

“Wow…” Emily’s eyes widened, “she must really like you.”

“We’ve known each other a long time. She always knew she wanted me working for her in some capacity and she needed someone who she could trust, someone who was going to know what they were doing and was right for the field. When you work for Dunbar you have to fit the brand. Now making sure that brand is upheld is my job, she had to start with someone.”

“You enjoy working for her? She’s a good boss?”

“Are you kidding me?” You laughed, “being on her payroll is better than any other politician in the country, maybe even the world. She has a much higher level of expectations that always need to be met, she knows quality, she knows class and she demands it out of everyone. So she supplements with extras to make sure we know how appreciated we are and to keep us loyal.”

“Sounds like she knows what she’s doing.”

“She always does.” You leant forward, bracing your elbow on the table so your chin could rest in the palm of your hand, “which is why I know whatever she suggested I help you with is exactly what you need. But I’m starting to feel like I have to sign an NDA to even have this conversation.”

Emily sucked in a deep breath letting out a sigh before reaching for her wine glass, “well… I am hoping for a certain level of discretion and the previous couple of times I’ve tried this it didn’t exactly work in my favour.” She glanced back across the table to find your head still perched on your hand, eyes full of curiosity as you looked back at her and she nearly gulped.

“Do tell… what is it you want from me Agent Prentiss?” Your voice was lowered, both an attempt to get her to own up and to make sure you weren’t overheard, “I work in PR, I know how to uphold an image and believe me, I know how to keep a secret.”

She swallowed down a gulp of wine before slowly beginning to speak, “I’m… looking for someone who is willing to spend a night or two a week together, could be friendly company, could be more if you’re comfortable. And I’m willing to pay.” She winced, suddenly stopping herself, “wait, that sounded bad.”

You chuckled softly, smiling across the table at her to urge her to continue.

“Basically, I’ve got a bit of spare time and extra finances. I need someone who understands I can’t always be around, that work can and will upend plans constantly and suddenly. Someone who values privacy. I don’t have time to do the whole dating thing, the strings that come along with that.”

“Casual intimacy in exchange for fancy dinners, pricey jewels and lavish vacations?” You murmured softly, your head tilting in her direction and she nodded, “well… now we’re finally on the same page.”

“And you’re comfortable with that?”

Your eyes slowly raked over her, taking in her beauty, a small grin on your lips as you nodded, “Mmhm.”

“And the stipulations that come along with my work?”

“Not an issue. As you know, I have my own career and working for Heather can be a twenty four seven, seven days a week job and similar to yours, it includes a lot of travel. Discretion is easily attainable and I know how to uphold a certain image.”

“Good.” She let out a low huff of a laugh, “the last couple of dates I went on before this were garbage.”

“Mmm… I think you likely got caught with the ‘professional’ babies… they don’t want to work; they just want to get paid for being hot.” You rolled your eyes, “they don’t care about careers, they want to be center of attention at all times.”

“And lord knows I don’t have the time or patience for any of that.”

Before you could reply your phone began a series of buzzes on the table top, your eyes flicking to the lit screen and you sighed, “hold on, it’s Heather.” You picked up the device to swipe open the text chain, half muttering to yourself, “bitch said I could work from home today but god knows I can’t go twenty four hours without having to put out a fire.”

“Duty calls?” Emily asked with a near grin, watching as you finished your wine.

“Unfortunately.” You cast a smile in her direction, “and right as we were getting to the good part, sorry.”

“No apology necessary, go. I’ll take care of this.” She gestured to the table.

“Are you sure?”

“All things considered; I think it’s my responsibility.”

“Right.” You laughed softly, popping your phone back into your purse as you slid out of the booth, “you have my number?”

“I do.” She nodded, “I’ll make a reservation for next Friday, we can do dinner and discuss this further?”

“Of course.” You smiled at her, “I’ll see you Friday Emily.”

_______________

@mickey-gomez @momlifebehard @daddy-heather-dunbar @maybe-a-humanbean @rustyzebra @leftoverenvy @kades95 @dextur @supercriminalbean @emilyprentisssluvr @lex13cm @zizzlekwum @emobabeyy @riveramorylunar @scorpsik @onmykneesformarvel @inlovewithemilyprentiss @regalmilfs4me @ara-a-bird @five-bi-five-mind @inlovewithmiddleagewomen @hotchs-bitch @ollysmulti @kmc1989 @irishavengersassemble @hopedoesntknow @venromanova @waitaminuteashh @noahrex @imlike-so-gaydude @wittygutsy @cx-emerald-cx cx @momily @nilaues @borinxnovak @soverign @v3nusxsky @blackbird-brewster @mccdreamys-writes @l4yne @obsessedwjill @supercorpstan97 @asolitaryrose3 @honeyycatt @trauma-factory @lisqueen

[foolinafable]

man i love ur fics smsm keith kogane 🔛 🔝

Thanks, here's a gift to show my appreciation!

Home is where you are

SYNOPSIS: You have finally returned to earth, but is it still home? PAIRING: Keith x reader

–

You thought you would feel more. This was the place you dreamt of every night while in space, the thought of one day coming back being what motivated you to keep going. But now that you're actually home, you feel nothing. A void replaced what relief, joy and tears you’d expected when your feet hit the tarmac of the garrison. You thought that after saving them from Sendek, it would change, that you were simply too worried to be happy, but now that Earth was safe from him and the prospect of leaving again to finish the job off appeared, you still felt nothing. Your bleeding heart seems to have clotted over.

“Penny for your thoughts?” Keith slowly made his way towards you, words quiet as if to not startle

“Don’t think that's the currency anymore” Shrugging your shoulders, unsure, he smiled in reply, something he had been doing more recently, as he manoeuvred into the space next to you, eyes daring for a comment when he shuffled close enough for your arms and thighs to touch 

“Don’t be coy”, he nudged your shoulder when it became clear you weren't going to look back at him “You understood the sentiment” 

You nodded “I did” it almost wasn't fair how mature he had become, being a leader does that to people

“So tell me what’s wrong and don’t say nothing because we both know that's a lie” You bit your lip in contemplation, leg furthest away from Keith shaking slightly, still trying not to meet his eyes, knowing that you’d lose any resolve left if you did

“I thought..” you finally met his gaze, eyebrows furrowed “I don’t know what I thought”, words barely above a whisper 

“I know it’s different from what we believed it would be, coming home. I don’t think anyone could have imagined coming back to a war and having to leave again so soon after, it’s not fair” his hand reached out to your shaking limb, stroking despite the awkward angle

“That’s not it” you admitted voice barely above a mumble

“It’s not?” he asked, shuffling around to try and find a more comfortable position, not once removing his hand from your shaking thigh

“No…” you trailed off, trying to gain some semblance of courage “If anything, I can’t wait to go, maybe distance will make the heart go fonder or, in this case, grow some fondness within me for this place”, you gestured to the space “Because this, our home, it just doesn't feel that way anymore”

“Feel like what?” Keith pressed his lips together in thought, clearly not following 

“Home” you admitted teeth pulling at bruised lips, pulling his hand away from your now steady legs so he could once again sit normally instead letting him continue his ministrations on your hand. 

“I get it” he admitted and you smiled, happy to not be alone in this feeling “I’ve not got much to miss when away from Earth. Everyone I care about is coming with me” You looked at him then, meeting his soft stare “I mean that’s what a home really is, the people”

You squeezed his hand “You're right”, scoffing at the look on his face “What?” 

“Never thought I'd see the day” he smiled, cheeky 

“Oh shush”, you laughed, missing the way his entire demeanour brightened at the sound “Maybe it wasn't really earth that I was missing”, you admitted, a new hypothesis coming to light in your mind “I mean, the homesickness only really started around the time of the Voltron shows, I just thought I was missing earth because lance said he felt the same, missing the oceans and the sky but maybe I was just missing you” 

“You think” he teases

“I mean, it makes sense, I felt a lot better on the journey back to earth and my lack of care for leaving and even being here. I guess Earth is not really my home, you are” You try to look away, somewhat embarrassed, but Keith doesn't let you, hand quickly grabbing at your jaw and pulling your face close to his, he kisses you softly, only for a moment before moving away a mischievous look in his eyes

“Well then technically you were homesick” he confirms

“I guess I was”, you admit, letting him win.

[midnight-mourning]

Sneaky Santa

❄️❄️Midnight's DCA December Day 9❄️❄️

cooked this up last night for y'all, but waited to post to make sure it was actually coherent lmao, anywho, hope you enjoy! Edit: reviewed this morning and chat 2 am midnight was cookinggg

Prompt: ok ok i have a pretty vague idea that i really love. y/n would be a burglar who breaks into the pizzaplex on christmas eve/day (cos no one wants to work at christmas time, so there should be minimal security, right?..). but they quickly sense they are not alone and dca interaction ensues :') i feel like you could go different ways with this, full chase sequence, or just witty banter with the dca. you can play with around the y/n's motives for committing theft/breaking in. i'd love to see what you cook up :D

Word Count: 2630

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The side door opens with a click, and as it creaks ajar, you can't help the grin that splits your face. Success, and after 15 minutes of fumbling in the cold, you're more than happy to finally get inside. And get to work, for that matter. 

You shove your kit back into your pocket, and adjust your mask. Slinking inside, it's as quiet and dead as you hoped. Even the cameras, which you'd think they'd bother to power on for this very reason, don't seem to be active. All the better for you, really. 

Still, you proceed with caution, while the place is more than dead in terms of human staff, there are some bots lingering about. From the last time you were in here you think they were just called S.T.A.F.F. bots? Doesn't matter, you didn't need to take any chances. 

You keep to the shadowy parts of the building, making your way to your first stop; Chica's gift shop. You make quick work, grabbing the limited edition kids jewelry set, and a plush or two for good measure. You make similar stops throughout, a makeup set and costume from Roxy's, a gator golf mini club set, a microphone signed by Freddy himself. Not to mention again, anything else you can grab your hands on. 

You wanted this trip to count, if you were going to be doing something illegal, might as well go all out, yeah? 

You won't deny, it had been a bit of an inner conflict for you at first. You had morals, stealing was wrong and all that jazz. However, stealing from a multi-million dollar corporation who wouldn't even notice the teeny-tiny little dent you've made in their merchandise? Yes, still wrong, but surely not nearly as bad. At least, that's what you tell yourself. 

You glance briefly at the list in your hand, and the map in the other, as you chow down on a cupcake you swiped earlier. You're sitting on a railing overlooking the atrium, the area quiet enough to not draw any attention. Though, still so far so good from what you've been able to tell.

None of the main attractions have been out and about, and if you had to guess, they were either doing their own thing in their rooms—which, an odd but endearing thought to have—or they were simply powered down to conserve energy over the holidays. Regardless, you're able to check off the locations on your map, and the items on your list in an easy peace. 

As luck would have it, you're well ahead of schedule. Only an hour or so in and you're already down to your last location. Circled in red marker and starred; Lucky Stars Gift Shop. 

You'd saved it for last because it was one of the trickier ones to get to. But, with how easy the rest of the night has been, you'd argue it's well worth the risk at this point. While your haul was more than enough, you knew that if you could score there, you'd be set. 

So, finishing your cupcake with a wipe of your shirt sleeve, your off. 

When you arrive, much like all the other locations, the door is thankfully unlocked. You slip inside, and set to work. You were looking once more for a specific item in particular, in this case as set of pajamas. Smalls, along with a pair of matching nightlights if you could find them. 

You find the pjs soon enough, stuffing them in with the rest of your haul. It was starting to get heavy now, and you truly looked the part of a burglar with your big canvas sack. To be fair, it wasn't like you could fit all this in your backpack. Even though you'd foolishly considered it for a brief moment. 

The nightlights are a harder find, not anywhere within easy sight among the toys and stuffies scattered throughout the darkened shop. To be safe though, you swipe a few of those as well. 

You finally spot your prize while doing a sweep over the entire place, both set up on a high shelf behind the counter. You puff out your cheeks, of course they just had to be there of all places.

You shake your head, no matter. You weren't leaving without those nightlights. Especially after catching the sight of the price when trying to order online. Just for merch for the Daycare Attendant of all things. 

Setting down your bag, you start to climb onto the counter, swaying slightly in your rush. You lean over the gap behind the counter and the shelf, finding that you just barely can't reach.

You grit your teeth, and lean further, doing your best to keep your feet steady. When your hand makes contact with a box, you internally cheer. Quickly, you grip it, and the other while you're at it. 

You struggle to contain your excitement, giggling to yourself as you step fully back onto the counter with your goods. 

"Well now, what do we have here?"

"Something of a thief, by the looks of it." The voice turns darker, chuckling. "And not a very clever one, at that."

You freeze then, but keep calm. You were too close now. You weren't expecting any guards at this point, but certainly you could handle these two, you've come too far to not try, anyway. 

You turn, tone smooth. "Well, that's not very nice. I think I've been doing pretty good so far—" The words die on your tongue when you realize that the person behind you are in fact, one bot. One of the very bots that strongly resembled the ceramic copies in your hands.

The blue and white animatronic tilts his head at you, red eyes narrowed. Moon, from what you already know.

"You were saying?" He asks. 

Initial shock gone, you shake your head, huffing as you hop down from the counter. "I believe I've done pretty well so far, not to toot my own horn or anything. And with these, I'll be more than happy to get out of your hair. Or, whatever the equivalent is for you, I suppose." You stuff the nightlights in your bag, head held high. 

"Is that so? You'll just walk on out of here, without a bit of confrontation or trouble?" The naptime attendant sounds more amused than anything, so you'll keep trying your luck. 

You shrug. "Well yes, I really would rather not be a burden on you. Would hate to be the cause of disruption so close to the holidays. Consider it a gesture of the heart." You put your hand to your chest, bowing slightly. 

"Gesture of the heart—" Moon laughs then, hard. 

You take the chance to slip by him, crossing your arms as you lean against a clothes rack. "Something the matter? I'll have you know I mean what I say, especially to a pretty face."

"A pretty, pretty face?" He asks between chuckles. The bot pretends to wipe a tear. "My, you're a curious little thief aren't you?"

You wink. "I like to keep things exciting. No need for unnecessary tension and all that, you know? And if I wasn't on the job, well, I'd be using more than just my words, let's say that."

You're almost to the door now, hand ghosting over the handle. If you can get a head start, you'll surely make it. Unfortunately, you're not so lucky. 

"Well, I'm afraid to disappoint, but I believe tension is all I have to offer, you Star. I hope you'll understand."

You keep your eyes locked on each other for a moment more. Then, as he launches toward you, you rip open the door, running out into the light again. 

As you're running, you hear a voice call out behind you. "What? You're not going to try to woo me too? Am I good enough for you, Sunshine?"

"Of course you are!" You say back. "I just figured a change of scenery would do us some good, is all."

You find you have no other choice but to enter the Daycare itself. Certainly not your favorite option, but you can hear the playtime attendant gaining on your fast. You'll have to fake him out in here and hope for the best. 

He chuckles. "How kind of you! So tell me, what's convinced you this was a good idea, friend? You have me oh so curious."

"Ah, I wouldn't want to bore you with all the details." You wave your hand, then jump to climb one of the playset walls. "That's much less fun. Instead, tell me about yourself? You come here often?"

You hear him close behind, just missing at swiping your leg in his grasp. "Well, I live here, so as it would turn out, yes! You seem too familiar with the layout yourself, Starshine."

"What makes you think that?" You scoff. Though, you can't say he's wrong, you're just hoping the mask is enough to keep your identity a secret. Would hate to be banned now. 

You stare down at him, head in your hands as Sun stares up at you, rays flicking and eyes narrowed. "We got a peak at your little collection. You're well aware of what's the priciest items here! That's something that takes time, and planning."

"Aw, why thank you! If I wasn't preoccupied, I would return that compliment with more than just verbal appreciation."

He leans against the playset, gaze focused on you. "You could always try."

You grin, and for the briefest of seconds consider the offer, then shake your head. 

"Ah, I would. But I've got no guarantees it won't turn sour, in the end." You tsk drearily. "I'm afraid our love must stay as it is. Treasured from afar in secrecy. Surely you understand, no?"

 Sun nods, hand going to his faceplate just as dramatically. "Oh course, how foolish of me to consider such. If only—Hey! That's cheating!"

You snicker to yourself as you race across the playset. "I'm sorry, my dear! But time is of the essence. Perhaps another time I can listen to your sweet nothings—"

You slip, foot catching the wrong side of the plastic bridge. Your eyes widen as you begin to fall, then squeeze shut as you brace for impact. 

It doesn't come, instead, you find yourself in a reassuring grip. Peeking an eye open, you find Sun staring down at you, concern evident in his eyes. 

Your breathing is heavy as you wait for him to do something, anything. 

"I know those eyes." He says in the quiet. "It's you."

Ah, shit. 

In a state of utter defeat, and total shock, you wind up bound in a spare set of jump ropes, sat in one of the tiny chairs for good measure. 

Meanwhile, Sun is pacing the back and forth in front of you, speaking in a one-sided conversation to his counterpart. 

"But why, surely there's no reason for them to have been—"

"I know, I know. It's wrong, but that doesn't, no, no you're right."

"What if we, it might work. I just don't want to—" He turns to stare at you, then shakes his head.

You sigh. This blows. You'd spent so long planning this out, and now you're about to lose everything. Unless, you can convince them that you really meant no major harm. 

"Listen. I know this looks, bad. But I can explain!"

The bot turns to you then, curious, but suspicious. You don't blame him. 

Your head hangs low, guilt sinking in in that moment. "Look, money's tight. Really tight. Why do you think I come here to get daycare services? It's dirt cheap, you know. And, and the kids were just so excited for Christmas this year, I saw an opportunity and I just,"—You shake your head—"I'm not proud, at all. I just, wanted to give them something nice, you know? That's the honest truth. So, before you turn me in, please, just give me a chance. You can take everything back, but please let me walk out of here tonight. I, I won't come back, I'll find other arrangements, just please, please don't tell anyone about this."

You wait for him to start laughing at you, you expect it even. Even if it was the truth, it was still a ridiculous notion. All this for the sake of some toys? God, imagine what the cops are going to say when the get a load of this—

The jump ropes keeping you tied up suddenly loosen. 

Looking up, you see Sun's gaze is on you, unreadable in that moment. Then, he hands you your sack, and your backpack, and points to the door. 

"I, you're, you're letting me... really?" You're more than surprised, you're flabbergasted. 

He nods, helping you to stand. "I believe you, we both do. We've seen how much your care for them, and we understand. To a point, that is. Now hurry along, before it gets too late."

"I, I don't know what to say..."

Sun chuckles. "I think you'll be better off not worrying about your words for once, Sunbeam."

"Still, I just,"—you shake your head, and in a brief moment of unthinking, wrap your arms around the bot in a hug—"I mean it, thank you."

He stiffens, but returns the gesture. 

You pull away after a moment, slinging your bags back over your shoulders. "You know, if I'm not banned, we should um, do this again sometime. In a more, legal setting."

"O-oh?"

You smirk. "Yeah. What? I told you, I mean what I say."

You turn then, heading for the door before they change their mind. Though based on Sun's last words to you, you doubt that.

"We'd like that!" He calls, and for some reason, the sincerity of it makes you blush under your mask. 

Sure enough, when you discover that Freddy Fazbear's Pizza Plex is hiring, in Superstar Daycare no less, you find yourself easily able to fulfill that promise. 

"Almost ready for naptime, Starshine?" Sun asks as he comes up to where you stand leaning against the security desk.

You nod. "I am, but are you?"

"What makes you say that?" He asks, tone anything but innocent.

You tsk. "You've not been subtle today, Sunny. I can tell when someone wants to kiss me, it's my sixth sense, so to say."

"Just like how lock picking, bribery, pick-pocketing, and seduction~ are also your sixth sense?" He asks, leaning down to your height.

Your cheeks heat up, and you cough. "Of course."

Sun chuckles, closing the gap between the two of you with a brief peck. You are on the clock, after all. 

When he pulls away, flicking the lights off, you find Moon staring down at you with that same look. 

You huff, smile on your lips. "Let me guess, you want a turn now too?"

"Of course not." His hand cups your face with a tsk. "Could you think so little of me?"

You grin as he bends down further.

He shakes his head slightly, "No, I think I'll take a bit more than just one simple kiss."

"One not good enough for you?" You question. 

"Not for all the trouble you've been. I think at least three kisses are in order, to make up for it, don't you?"

Your arms wrap around his neck with a giggle. "Well, I certainly won't protest."

You meet somewhere in the middle, and just like you always do these days, find yourself grateful to your previous self for the, really, quite stupid idea of trying to break into the plex the night of Christmas Eve. 

Because sometimes bad ideas can have good outcomes, and this was a clear sign of that. 

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Thank you for the request @soupdweller!! Was a very fun little idea that I MAY have gotten carried away with hehe (i see the word banter and HAVE to go all out yk?), hope you had as much fun as I did :)

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