#pal taking on too many languages? not true!

[justapalspal]

Starting a new language with sounds in it you don’t know how to make with ur mouth or ur throat really is just like oh golly. The French really are never gonna talk to me in French

[neteyamslovrr]

KXANI - pt5

summary: you have never fit in with the scientists, but on the night jake was lost in the forest so were you. staying with the people was your one true dream, yet when you are anything but welcome and jake get's to experience the people. you find yourself seeking comfort in tsu'tey

contents: 3.2k words (yas), fem!avatar reader, so much angst, a bit of swearing, tsu'tey being sad like so sad

authors note: hardcore angst soz gal pals, i promise i am sorry

all parts - next part

┌────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────┐

The day had finally come. Where Jake becomes one of the people and you are truly outcasted to be alone. No one to understand your loneliness as an outsider in the clan. No one to understand the struggles of being so useless, even if Jake had no interest in helping you anyway. No. Because he was now one of them.

One of the people you had only dreamed and yearned to be part of. One of the people you had begged fate to bring you to only for fate to let you watch your dream as if you were trapped behind a window.

A month ago, you hoped that maybe the pain of watching Jake take your dream away would be eased by having the one man who had the kindness to try and understand you be there to say, 'you are next'.

But now, he pushed you away and treated knowing you as a disgusting smudge of shit that has plagued his life. No longing gaze, prayer, or attempt of communication could ever heal the rift in between you and Tsu'tey. All that was left was going back to your ways of hiding away from the people and trying to grasp a sense of belonging off the scraps that were thrown towards you.

The absence of Tsu’tey in your daily life was a pain you had never felt before. It was a constant dull ache, that scratched at your insides as your heart craved for the comfort of his presence. Even if it was just to call you a demon, to tell you that you were a bad fisher or for him to grunt at your discomfort. It meant something. It all fucking meant something. You just wanted your little trips back. Your daily walks through the forest were he would complain about your likeness as a sky-demon but use his most gentle language, so you knew he cared. You thought he fucking cared.

So, as you stared and watch Jake emerge with his symbolic white paint adorning his blue body, you teared up. But it wasn’t the tears that Grace was shedding. No. These were jealous tears, angry tears. You wanted to close your eyes and there you would be, in the middle of the woven arms of the Omaticaya. But…that was just a hope. You had done nothing to earn that right. You were useless to the Omaticaya, keeping you around like a pet. Just like Tsu’tey had said. You were a parasite.

Soon the long night of celebrations erupted. The people cheering and smiling as the globe orbited. The exotic sounds of singing and majestic displays of dancing were invigorating. You watched as Grace danced along with the many children that she had taught, you could see her heart physically melt every time as she saw a smile on the children’s face. Or there was Jake who was stuffing his face full of a large assortment of meats and fruits specifically gathered to celebrate him. He was surrounded by Neytiri and Tsu’tey, smiling, talking to him animatedly. Except for Tsu’tey. He sat there solemnly, a frown permanently etched into his face. He exuded sadness, his posture hunched, and eyes focused on a random spot in the sky as he disconnected from the conversation in front of him.

Truthfully, he was just as distraught as you were, yet he felt so shameful for his feelings. Unlike you who had accepted your feelings and knew it was too good to be true if he ever reciprocated them. Tsu’tey was left feeling as if he didn’t know himself. He was meant to be Olo’eyktan, mated to Neytiri, protector of the people. Yet, here he was craving for the affections of a sky-person, a demon that he wanted nothing more than to leave him and his people alone. But he knows if you were ever to leave he might crumble into a shell of a person and never recover.

He remember the feeling of your warm grasp around him as you flew together. He remembers the warm feeling in his heart as he felt you relax against him. He remembers the overflowing sense of peace that engulfed him when you were around, the way you reminded him of an atokirina, so pure, so kind. He just wanted you. But as he sat with Jake and with the energy of his people surrounding him he knew that it was too good to be true. That loving you is a mistake. That letting his guard down and letting you in only resulted in hurt, and that no matter how strong his desire for you is. He would never be able to hold you like he wanted to. To love you like he wanted to.

So as he looked around, breaking out of his dissociative state he saw you sat in a corner by yourself. You had isolated yourself from the party chewing on one of the outlandish fruits that were spread across platters of food. He saw the way your chest was sunken and your gaze focused on the ground below you. He noticed the way you barely ate the fruit you were holding, that it was just sitting in your hand.

Tsu’tey felt his heart grow heavy as he saw you sniffle. As he noticed that you were alone.  No one, not even Grace trying to make conversation with you. Was he all you had? He plagued himself with this question. Was he saving himself from the condemnation of loving an alien just to leave the one he so desperately covets for to be tortured with loneliness.

“Jake, why is she sitting alone? Invite her over.” Neytiri’s voice broke Tsu’tey out of his deprecating thoughts as the entirety of the group was now was staring over at you. Not so discreetly.

“No, I don’t think she should come over…she’s um.” Jake just desperately didn’t want you near him. To him he thought you told Tsu’tey to threaten him. Today was his day, he didn’t need your sad sap self to ruin the mood. Even though the man next to him was already doing that.

Tsu’tey felt his blood pressure rise, the disrespect dribbling out of Jake’s mouth so effortlessly, that he didn’t have to do anything but give you a harsh stare that made Tsu’tey want to hammer his head in. “She’s what?” He hissed at the new warrior, venom dripping off his tongue earning a harsh glare from Neytiri.

“Nothing…” Jake turned around to usher you towards the group. Looking up to see them all stare at you expectantly made you want to hurl. The whirlwind of emotions you were already experiencing definitely wasn’t going to be eased by a conversation with two men who hated you.

The walk over to the group was painstakingly awkward as they all hesitantly waited for you to get close enough to start making conversation. You heart was pounding as you realised how harshly Tsu’tey was gazing at you, that he tried so little to cover his distaste of your presence. You didn’t want to be near him, nor did you want to be near Jake. But who were you to refuse an offer from the higher ups in the clan. You’d be an idiot to decline.

It was instinctual, that Tsu’tey scooted over on the log that he was sat on to make room for you. The action puzzled the both of you. Tsu’tey was ashamed of his behaviour, that he should not still be so accepting of your company but how could he not move over when all he wanted was to feel your warm body up against his.

It puzzled you, as he made space for you to sit with a permanent expression of disgust etched onto his face. You sat down next to him, arms brushing slightly. You heard a faint gasp leave Tsu’tey’s mouth leaving you humiliated as he scooted further away from you to avoid touching you again. You wanted to recoil in on yourself, the feeling of anxiety bubbling in your gut as you felt all of their eyes tear you apart. 

“So, what have you been doing lately?” Neytiri turned to you with a glint of interest sparkling in her eyes as she propped her chin up with her hands. You could see the disinterest run off Jake’s face as you inhaled to start talking.

“Um, not much. I just kind of go to the forest and just look at the plants.”

Tsu’tey could feel his body growing stiffer. He couldn’t stand being so close to you. He felt as if he was on fire with desire. That he wanted to go onto his knees and beg for forgiveness as you continued to talk, the sadness in your tone driving him insane.

“I thought you went there with Tsu’tey.” Jake knew about you and Tsu’tey’s recent estrangement. He heard you weep about it to Grace. So as he said it with a sad tone and slight smirk on his face, you felt as if you wanted to slit his throat and watch him bleed out.

Tsu’tey audibly growled at Jake. He knew what he was doing, he saw the way Jake’s lip twitched in amusement as he saw you awkwardly shrink in your seat.

“No, Tsu’tey is busy.”

“Trust me Y/N, Tsu’tey does a lot of nothing.” Neytiri giggled in a friendly tone, earning harsh glares from both of the men.

“I do not! At least I am not scurrying away with this skxwang every day.” Tsu’tey snapped back at Neytiri. It wasn’t an actual argument. It was like seeing two child best friends brawl in their usual way.

“Scurrying is my duty.”

“Yeah and you love it.” Jake chuckled earning a light push from Neytiri.

The friendly bickering truly made you feel out of place. Watching them all bicker and tease each other. It simply made you long to escape your loneliness. It made you wonder if coming to this planet was even worth it.

But as you turned to see the beautiful man beside you as he glimmered in the starlight, his white freckles sparkling like diamonds. That even if he doesn’t reciprocate your feelings or even know they exist. Meeting Tsu’tey would be a good enough excuse to live lifetimes of this feeling if you could experience his comforting presence once again.

“Me and Jake are going to take a walk.” Neytiri smiled at Jake, earning a scowl from Tsu’tey. Tsu’tey wasn’t stupid, he knew they loved each other. Maybe a couple months ago he would have been livid about this, but now he understood. That no one can be forced into loving another, but they can be true to their duties.

“A walk? Then I’ll go and leave you all then.” Brushing off your legs you hurried to get up before Jake smirked down at you as Neytiri started to walk off.

“No don’t leave, Tsu’tey would get lonely. Wouldn’t you brother?” Tsu’tey hissed at him, making the feeing of dread feel as if it was engulfing you whole. Did he really not want to be alone with you so bad he was threatening Jake?

“Jake stop being a skxwang, c’mon!” Neytiri groaned impatiently waiting for Jake to follow her. Jake gave a chuckle as he got up, not forgetting to leave you with a wicked smirk that showed you that this was his revenge for being threatened.

As Jake and Neytiri left the feeling of impending doom was growing larger as it engulfed both you and Tsu’tey. You couldn’t bare to look at him, scared he would banish you from being in his sights ever again.

But that’s not what Tsu’tey was thinking. He was frozen, he couldn’t deal with your presence, it felt as if your scent was suffocating him. More worried about the fact that he would get addicted to it, never be able to go without. He should be leaving, getting up in a hurry but he couldn’t get himself to. Not while you were enticing him with nothing but your aura.

“I- I should probably go then.” He heard the way your voice cracked, a way to show that you were fighting off a wave of tears. Tsu’tey’s head spun towards you in a split-second, the want was so obvious in his eyes, it kicked the breath out of your lungs.

He didn’t want you to go. He needed you here. He felt himself deteriorating seeing the pain he caused for you. He wanted to engulf you in an embrace and run his hands through your hair, but he should never. He has roles, duties, you can’t take that away from him.

“No.”

“What? You want me to stay?” Tsu’tey was shouting at himself in the back of his mind. Of course, he wanted you to stay. He craved nothing more than that.

“Where will you go? You can’t go into the forest at night.” Sucking a deep breath in you tried to compose yourself in front of him. The more he talked to you, the more you heard his deep voice it made you want to burst into tears.

“I will probably go and sit by myself. Won’t bother you with my parasitic presence.” He winced at the word. A word he’s said to hurt you before and a word that you now spat back at him with malice dripping off of your tone.

“Your not a parasite baby-demon.” He couldn’t help but let the nickname slip, and as it rolled off his tongue and he saw the way your face contorted into a pained expression he truly felt as if he was sinking into the floor below him.

“Don’t call me that.” Your lip was beginning to quiver. Why was he so hot and cold with you. Was he toying with your heart as a game, revelling in seeing you desperately love him. Seeing the way his eyes bleed with forgiveness, it was all just a tug on your heart. “I’m going.”

“No.” He grabbed onto your wrist. His nimble fingers feeling as if they were scorching into your skin. Why was he toying with you? With your heart?

“STOP IT.” Turning to face him you screeched at him, voice cracking, tears beginning to fall as your entire body shook trying to stop sobs racking through you. Tsu’tey didn’t let go of your hand, he only held onto it tighter. He didn’t expect you to shrill at him, but seeing you so upset, so distraught, it was destroying him. Just like he was destroying you. “Just stop it Tsu’tey! One day we fly together on an ikran and share our burdens only for you to say that being kind to me was a mistake! That I am nothing to you! Then you go back to toying with my heart! That I’m your baby demon again! You’re cruel Tsu’tey. Stop fucking with my feelings.”

Tsu’tey was taken back. You said so many things that threw him for a loop. He wasn’t toying with you, he didn’t want to see you hurt, all he wanted was to fulfill his duty. He never wanted to cause you this much pain. He never wanted to see you beg him for kindness.

But what shocked him most was that you asked him to stop messing with your feelings. Feelings of love? The same ones that he so passionately has for you. The same feelings that made him feel as if he didn’t know who he was. You had those too? You loved him too?

“Feelings?” It was a meek whisper. Something he rarely does, the softness in his voice being something no one ever witnessed. You rolled your eyes at him, scoffing at his confusion.

“Yes feelings. I understand that I am a demon, an alien to you. But I have fucking feelings.” You were close to hysterics now, the utter shame and embarrassment that was consuming you was suffocating. How did he have such little consideration for you in this moment.

“I know- I know you have feelings. Feelings towards me?” His eyes were wide with hope. He just needed a confession, not that he would do much with it. He couldn’t, but he had to know. He had to know if your heart ached the same way when you two were separated. If you went to sleep thinking of him and dreamt of him as you slept just as he did for you. He had to know that he wasn’t alone in his feelings, that he wasn’t crazy for falling in love with a demon, because his baby demon loved him too.

“Are you joking?” He shook his head rapidly, eyes blown wide, ever hopeful for an answer. An answer that would tell him he isn’t the only one witlessly in love. “You are the only person on this planet that has shown an ounce of kindness towards me. Do you blaming me for loving you?”

The confession kicked the air out of Tsu’tey making him feel as if he was choking on his own feelings. So many thoughts were running through his head. Did he push away the woman he loved? Did he pain the woman that loved him? How was he so cruel to your feelings?

But in the back of his mind, he knew it was useless. He can’t be in love with a demon. No matter how much that demon loves him and how much he feels empty without you by his side.  

“I don’t blame you. But I think you should go now.” It was like he had slapped you in the face. You had spilled your heart out to him, cried and screamed and this was all he could do? But Tsu’tey couldn’t do anything else, and you knew that. He was promised, it wasn’t as if you expected him to fall to his knees and confess his love.

No, you knew he would never do that. Not while he breathed. But all of your heart yearned for him, you wanted to be back on his ikran as his baby demon. So as you scoffed in his face and wiped your tears away. You walked away with a shattered heart due to Tsu’tey. The man you adored and the man you loved. It was pitiful to think that you could have a chance with him, wasn’t it?

Watching you walk away defeated he felt himself crumble. He was meant to be a strong man, but he felt like a lost child without you around. How did he continue to fuck up constantly. Why was he not deserving of a lover that loved him? Why was he to be mated to someone else when all he craved was you and your heart. It was all too late now, he can’t have you and you can’t have him. He’ll gaze at you and wonder if he made the right decision, knowing he regretted it the second it came out of his mouth. But this was his sacrifice for his people, and you weren’t one of the people.

└────── ⋆☆⋆ ──────┘

tags: @koolaidmanscaresme @suntizme @forestcottage @avatarlover21 @mechformers @jennielune @dilfs-bitch @simplefools @merla123 @awkward-halfhug @atwow69 @scarlettisconfusedd @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @elegantkidfansoull @tarrynightss @randxmthxughts @ronalsgirl @gardenofvows @zitarcis @i-thirsty-boii @lin0leum @lovekeehoo @notyurdad @supercoolusernamesblog @cupidddd-d @im-in-a-pansexual-panikanik @saltedcoffeescotch @jakesullysslutttt @valentineheartzz @eywas-heir @perilous-pasta @fanboyluvr @asd3ku @atsukiswrld @moonpie3000 @coffeeaddictednymph @anangelwhodidntfall @snips-501 @dangerouslittlefairy @chaos-in-person @rebeccao03 @adaydreamaway08 @jellybeanstacey0519 @graykageyama @aracelikara @live-laugh-neteyam @sam-chwan @netherklutz @pajerita19 @ducks118 @glacticrose @kadu-5607 @rainbowsocks @star-dusst @cries-maria @mollygetssherlockcoffee

reblogs and replies i will give u 1billion roses mhm yup

[galexystern]

i don't wanna wait my whole life through (to say i'm in love with you) - 18+

pairing; steve harrington/eddie munson/fem!reader aka steddie/fem!reader

rating; E

warnings; fluff, smut (MDNI), pining, fix-it, spitroasting, oral (f & m receiving), fingering (f receiving), face-fucking, p in v sex, established relationship - eddie/reader

word count; 8.8k

desc; You and Eddie start to notice all the things Steve does for you two. Or, alternately, Sometimes things that feel too good to be true are true anyways.

read on ao3 / masterlist

It all started a few months after you, Eddie, Steve, Robin, and Vickie moved in together.

Steve's parents were part of the wave that swept out of Hawkins after everything with Vecna. They'd tried to convince him to go with them, not wanting to leave him in this obviously cursed town, but he'd declined their offer. They almost didn't let him, but he was an adult now and they couldn't force him to do much of anything. Teary eyed, they'd joined the long line of cars inching down the road, itching to get out.

As a gift, they'd left Steve the house. The giant house, with so many empty bedrooms he couldn't hope to fill by himself. So he'd opened it up to the people he cared about most.

By chance, he ended up inviting you and Eddie to live with him first (he made you promise to never tell Robin that fact). It took some convincing, but he managed to puppy-dog-eye his way intothe two of you agreeing to move in. He graciously gave you the master bedroom, something about how it would be awkward to move rooms within his own house and weird to take over the room where his parents had slept. When he'd said that, it'd creeped you out as well, but Eddie persuaded you that you would be able to make it your own, and eventually you wouldn't even think other people had lived in the same space.

Sure enough, over the days and weeks, the whole house transformed. Stuff started filling all the cabinets, drawers, and surfaces until they threatened to overflow. Anywhere you looked, there was something that clued you in on who lived there—Robin's language dictionaries and stacks of pen pal letters from several different countries, Vickie's gardening supplies and magazines, Eddie's sheet music (blank and filled out, he wasn't very good at keeping it organized) and various guitar accessories, your piles and piles of books in every genre available (you liked to hoard them). Sometimes you caught Steve just sorting through it all with a smile on his face; he liked to scold you all for how messy it was, but you could tell he was so unbelievably happy that there was plain old stuff sitting alongside his, almost burying it even. He started to buy more of his own things just to keep up.

And your and Eddie's bedroom changed just as much. You plastered the wall with posters of bands and movies you both loved, dumped your combined clothes in the dresser and closet, placed all the kitschy stuff you owned on every surface available. All the books in the main area were just spillover; they couldn't even come close to how many were strewn across the floor in your room. You bought everything you found and liked in thrift stores (okay, so maybe you were a hoarder in general). Eddie couldn't resist buying any new cat toy for your beloved Sweet Potato (he could say he hated your cat all he wanted but you knew the truth) so they were always under foot. Vickie liked to give you cuttings from her plants, and so those were placed anywhere sunlight reached. You loved candles a little too much, so there were not one but two drawers full of them. There were shells you and Eddie had collected when you'd gone to the beach, VHS tapes of your favorite shows and films, supplies from any hobbies you'd picked up but eventually gave up (it drove Eddie crazy but he couldn't resist buying you things for whatever new hyperfixation you had, he always wanted to get rid of the old things but you wouldn't let him).

And yet, the room was just a little too big for the two of you. The bathroom was enormous—you and Eddie didn't much care for your looks (besides Eddie's hair) and so it felt empty whenever you went in there. You and Eddie couldn't reach the highest shelves and so they remained clear—you two frequently talked about buying a ladder, or asking Steve to put stuff up there since he was the only one who could reach them, but it hadn't happened yet. And the bed...it felt huge, an expanse of sheets and blankets and pillows. You and Eddie could lose each other in it. When you were in bed, even with Sweet Potato, it was like a whole other person could fit beside you, and even be comfortable.

A voice came from the doorway as you pondered that, just finishing up making the bed. "Wow, this room is unrecognizable."

You looked up to see Steve, arms crossed, leaning against the frame. You smiled at him as you fluffed up Eddie's pillow to how he liked it, then flopped on the bed. Following Steve's roving gaze, you looked around the room at all your stuff mixed with Eddie's. It gave you a thrill, every time, remembering that you two actually lived together, on your own, in a house filled with loved ones. Seemed too good to be true.

Turning back to Steve, you teased, "Is that a compliment?"

His eyes snapped back to yours and he narrowed them playfully. "No, I actually hate what you've done with the place."

You clutched your chest in fake hurt, comically dropping your jaw too wide. "You wound me."

Steve laughed, the sound music to your ears, and you couldn't help but grin back at him, breaking the act. "It looks great," he said, genuine this time. "There's no mystery about who lives here."

"You trying to be dick?" You asked with a raised eyebrow.

A faint blush rose to his cheeks. "No. I like it. It's nice knowing you and Eddie are here. Living here. With me."

"Well," you replied, looking away, your own face flushing, "we like it."

You could feel his eyes on you. "Good," he said quietly. Taking a chance, you looked back up and caught his stare. It felt intense. And then he cleared his throat, breaking the moment. "Maybe I should've kept this room." His teasing tone was back. "If you're not careful, I might take it back."

"Oh yeah? I might just dare you to." You smirked.

"Mm, well, I'm not going down without a fight."

"Neither are we."

You and Steve grinned at each other goofily and your heart pounded and his hand clutched at his bicep and then Robin's voice thundered through the house.

"STEVE!"

Said man huffed out a laugh. "Guess that's for me."

You nodded and watched as he gave you one last smile before disappearing from view. You heard his footsteps down the hall, then the stairs, and then you couldn't hear them anymore.

After that encounter, you started noticing.

Like the day Steve came home from grocery shopping, dumping the bags on the kitchen counter while chanting "gotta pee" before quite literally running to the downstairs bathroom. You'd been at the table, engrossed in a book. Your focus broken, you got up and perused the bags, looking for something to snack on. You wanted to be quick—Steve didn't like it when anyone ate too close to a meal, he said it ruined your appetite and Vickie's delicious cooking would go to waste, something you never understood because Eddie inhaled anything in the fridge when he got the munchies and so leftovers were always eaten—but then you found no less than six different bottles of allergy medication. You picked a couple out and examined them.

You heard Steve walk back into the room and looked up at him. "Who're these for?" You asked curiously.

He glanced at the bottle in your hand. "Oh, they're mine."

"What? Why?"

"I'm allergic to cats."

You looked down. Sweet Potato was weaving between his legs, leaving orange hairs all over the bottom of Steve's jeans. He was notorious for how much hair he shed all over the house. You tried to vacuum regularly, but it was impossible to get it all.

Your eyebrows raised so high they probably hit your hairline. "Steve!" You exclaimed. "Why didn't you tell us?"

Steve shrugged and leaned over to pick up Tato and hold him to his chest. "Because you and Eddie love this pea-brain," he answered. The cat head-butted him affectionately, purring loudly, and Steve scratched under his chin. "I wouldn't have made you get rid of him. Besides, he's grown on me." Tato started making biscuits on his shoulder.

That's when Eddie walked into the room. He saw Steve holding Tato and immediately went over to them. "Hello, you little monster," Eddie said lovingly, petting him. Sweet Potato just soaked up all of their attention. Your heart melted at the sight.

Steve looked up at you. "Can you and Eddie put away the groceries? Since I shopped and paid, it's the least you can do."

You rolled your eyes. "You're the one who can afford it." Steve smirked. "But yes, we'll unpack." Steve nodded and left the room with Tato.

"Why do you rope me into these things?" Eddie whined. You smiled at him and he reflexively smiled back, walking over to give you a kiss.

"Help me now," you replied, "and I'll give you a back rub later. If you're good." Eddie's eyes lit up and he immediately went over to the counter and started taking things out of bags. You shook your head fondly—when you gave him back rubs, things tended to get heated, if you know what I mean—but still stared at the space Steve had been, thinking over what he'd said. Until Eddie called your name and you turned away, joining him in the task.

Or that time when you and Eddie were at work and a sudden thunderstorm broke out in the late afternoon. It shocked the hell out of you both when lightning flashed through the music shop, a crack of thunder following immediately after.

"Oh, man, we didn't bring any umbrellas or coats or anything," you whined to your boyfriend.

He kept sorting through the new records that had come in, setting aside any that looked interesting. He liked to play those on the store's player near closing time, when there weren't any customers and it was just you and him, sitting on the counter and soaking up the sound. If Eddie was feeling particularly romantic, and the record was full of ballads, he liked to dance with you in the aisles, making you feel like the only person in the world.

"You can wear my jacket," he offered.

"But then you wouldn't have anything to wear," you retorted, to which he shrugged. You rolled your eyes, knowing you wouldn't take up that offer. It was super easy for Eddie to get sick, you'd learned, and going into a thunderstorm without a coat would give him a cold almost immediately. Then he'd bring it home and spread it around the house, making everyone miserable. You weren't going to let that happen.

You watched the rain fall through the window when a familiar car pulled into a parking spot out front. You peered outside as the car door opened and someone stepped out and ran to the door. They opened it and in walked...

"Steve!" You called out in surprise and Eddie looked up.

Steve gave a wave, one of his arms full of stuff, stamping his feet on the shop's welcome mat before walking towards you both.

"What are you doing here, man?" Eddie asked, bewildered, records forgotten.

Steve huffed and dumped what he was holding onto the counter in front of you. You looked down and found that it was your and Eddie's rain gear, complete with your coats, boots, and umbrellas.

"Thought you might need these," Steve said. You and Eddie stared at him in awe.

"You brought these here for us?" You asked.

"In a thunderstorm?" Eddie continued.

Steve shrugged, the tips of his ears going pink. "I know you didn't take them this morning, what with the sun shining and everything, and I know how easily this one—" he pointed to Eddie, "—gets sick, and I wasn't doing anything so..." He cleared his throat. "I thought I'd bring them to you. Be a good friend and all."

You just looked at him.

"Well," Steve broke the silence. "I guess I'll go now." He turned away and started back towards the door.

"Wait," Eddie called, and Steve stopped and turned back around. "Do you wanna stay and eat lunch with us? We haven't taken it yet."

"Oh, I didn't bring any food," Steve said, sounding disappointed.

"That's okay," you replied. "I always pack extra since this one—" now you pointed to Eddie, "—likes to steal my food. Maybe he can control himself and you can have it." You raised your eyebrows at your boyfriend, who nodded excitedly. "Yeah! Stay!"

Steve just looked at you.

"Unless you have somewhere you need to be?" You asked. "Do you need to bring Robin and Vickie their stuff too?" You knew they were at work as well and sure to have not grabbed their stuff either.

"Oh," Steve answered, looking sheepish, "I didn't bring theirs. I forgot it."

You and Eddie laughed. "We won't tell them," you promised.

At that, Steve smiled and walked back to the counter. "In that case, sure. I'd love to stay."

While Eddie grabbed your lunches from the back, you stowed your rain gear under the counter and hopped up to sit. Steve leaned next to you, and you could feel the warmth of his arm against your leg. Eddie returned and you three sorted through the food, picking and choosing what each of you wanted to eat. Once that was done, you dug in, talking about what Steve had watched that morning and what records Eddie had chosen to play and what you were reading at the moment. It felt nice, with the rain pounding away outside, matching how your heart felt.

Or the time when you and Eddie had gone to a concert and gotten a flat on the drive home and had to stop at some random gas station. It was practically the middle of the night and there was no one around. Even the gas station store was closed. It was cold and you both shivered as Eddie dug through his pockets for change.

"Here," he said, teeth chattering. He had two quarters, two chances to get a ride home. You took one and called the house, but it just rang a couple of times before the machine picked up.

You hung up the phone with a huff. "No one's home. Steve, Robin, and Vickie are probably still at that party they were going to."

"What are we going to do?" Eddie asked. His tone sounded calm but his word choice revealed his worry. "Who else can we call?"

"Maybe Joyce? I don't—wait!" You ran to the van, opening the door and digging through the glove compartment. "I know it's in here," you muttered as you threw everything in there on the floor. Eddie's messiness and your hoarding were really catching up to you.

Finally, your hand closed around a piece of yellow paper. You pulled it out and quickly examined it. Smiling, you jumped out of the car and ran back to Eddie.

"What's that?" He asked, his hands deep in his pockets.

"Sometimes, Steve's maternal instinct comes in handy," you answered, showing him the list of names and numbers of all of Steve's closest friends. Eddie laughed. "I can't believe we actually have use for that thing."

"Me either," you breathed and grabbed the last quarter. You were so happy you remembered Steve was at Emily's house, otherwise you and Eddie would've been screwed. You dropped in the quarter and dialed the number. You hoped Steve would answer, but you would've been fine with anyone after the third ring.

Eventually, someone picked up. "Hello?" You could barely hear them over the party noise.

"Emily!" You yelled. "It's Y/N!"

"Oh! Hi Y/N!" She shouted back. "What's up?"

"Is Steve there?"

"Yeah! One minute!"

You waited for three seconds.

"Y/N?" Steve's voice came through the phone and you relaxed almost completely. Everything would be okay. Eddie noticed and sighed in relief, leaning against the wall. "What's wrong?"

"We got a flat tire!" You answered. "Can you call us a tow truck or something?"

"No way," he said, and you tensed in confusion. "I'm coming to get you!" You relaxed again but didn't understand. "What?"

"Just hold tight! Where are you?"

You told him you were just off Highway 73 at a gas station. He said he would be right there and hung up.

You and Eddie ran back and got in the van, turning it on so you could have some heat. "At least the battery didn't die," Eddie joked. "Otherwise we would've frozen." You rolled your eyes but didn't say anything, just leaned against his shoulder. You two dozed until someone knocked on the driver's side window.

You both jumped and saw Steve outside. He waved and Eddie rolled down the window. "Come on," he said. "Get in." He pointed over his shoulder at his car.

"What about the van?" You asked.

"We'll get a tow truck in the morning. Let's just get you home and out of the cold," he replied. He waited as you two got out of the van, grabbed anything valuable, and locked it, leading you to his BMW.

Eddie dove into the back and laid across the seats. "It's so warm in here," he slurred, half-asleep already. You and Steve smiled as you buckled into the front. Steve looked both ways before pulling out onto the road. You lay in the passenger seat, head turned to watch Steve as he drove. It was warm and everything smelled like him, a comforting, familiar sensation. Your eyes drooped, following Eddie's lead. Steve kept his hand on the stick shift and you laid yours on top. He looked at you briefly.

"Thank you," you whispered. He smiled softly. His hand flipped upside down and squeezed your fingers, making your heart flutter. Your eyes closed fully.

"Go to sleep," Steve whispered back, and you could've sworn he said "my love" at the end, but you were already gone.

;

"Babe," you started, as you slid under the covers and into bed beside Eddie, trying not to disturb the sleeping Sweet Potato. "Have you noticed anything...odd about Steve recently?"

Your boyfriend turned on his side to face you, a curious expression on his face. "What do you mean?"

You explained about the allergy meds and rain gear and flat tire.

"What do you think it means?" Eddie asked.

You sighed. "I don't know. But it's confusing me."

Eddie hummed, and you watched as he thought. "You know," he said eventually, evenly, "maybe he has a crush on you."

Your breath caught, but shook your head anyway. "It can't just be me. All the things I told you about were for both of us."

Eddie narrowed his eyes at you. "We don't know that he's bisexual."

"Yeah," you conceded. "But he knows we are." Eddie's eyes widened at that and you giggled.

"Now that I think about it," he mused, "he lets you drive his car. He doesn't let anyone else do that."

"Well, he lets your band practice in the garage whenever you want."

A moment of silence.

"He does let me pick whatever we watch when we're together," you continued.

"He lets me play any new record I get, even if he knows he won't like it," Eddie said.

"He always gets my favorite flower when he goes shopping..."

"...and our favorite magazines..."

"...and our favorite candy."

You and Eddie looked at each other and spoke at the same time.

"Holy shit."

;

It felt like a dream. It actually was a dream, kind of the dream for you and Eddie both. You'd determined that a few months ago, before you'd moved in with Steve, back when you were living with Eddie in his trailer.

It was just pillow talk, uncommonly intimate pillow talk. It was raining outside and the trailer felt warm and cozy and you and Eddie were in sex's afterglow, tangled up in each other. It started innocently enough, but then you started discussing exes and old lovers. You'd been a goody two shoes in high school, never getting into trouble, never doing much of anything. Unfortunately, that meant you didn't get much action, and Eddie was your first (and probably last) serious boyfriend. He wasn't your first though, and so you told him about how you'd lost your virginity to some nice, bland kid at summer camp—the same summer you had your first kiss with a girl. Eddie had whistled and said something about how for someone who didn't do anything, you sure did at lot in those three months. You'd hit him but blushed as well.

Eddie had talked about Tanya, the girl he'd dated throughout freshman and sophomore year, before she'd moved away. He'd been devastated, thought she'd been the one and everything, but long distance didn't work and he'd eventually lost touch with her. It'd hurt for a long time, and still hurt if he was being honest, but he said you were better than she ever was. You rolled your eyes but you couldn't stop a smile from playing on your lips.

Then he'd asked, "Do you have a crush on anyone?" You looked away quickly and he noticed. "You do," he said. You could hear the smirk on his face. "Who is it?"

"No one," you insisted, not wanting to say and hurt his feelings.

It was like he could read your mind, he always could. "You can tell me, I won't mind."

You looked up at him. "Are you sure?"

"Cross my heart and hope to die," he answered, complete with the motion of an x across the left side of his chest. You smiled softly at the gesture. "Go ahead, princess."

"Well..." You started softly. "I've always had a crush on Steve."

Eddie's eyes just about bugged out of his head. "Steve? Our Steve? The Hair?"

"Don't say it like that!" You shoved him lightly. "You've seen how he's changed after graduating. Everyone had a crush on him before, who wouldn't have a crush on him now?"

"Me," Eddie scoffed, but you could see him bite the inside of his cheek—the tell-tale sign he was lying.

You gasped. "You liar!"

"No!" He exclaimed, trying to save face.

"Yes!" You were excited now. "You have a crush on him too! Oh my god!"

He shoved his face into his pillow and groaned. "No I don't!" You heard him say, his voice muffled.

You leaned in close to his ear. "You can't hide from me," you said lowly, teasing him. "I know all of your secrets. And now I know this one too, the juiciest one by far."

"It's not that big a deal" came from the pillow.

You leaned back. "It's not." Eddie lifted his head and looked at you with an eyebrow raised. "You're just as hopeless as I am."

He sighed loudly and flopped onto his back, staring at the ceiling. "He's just so pretty," he whined, lovesickness finally coming out.

"He is." You mirrored his position, grabbing his hand and holding it tight. "Sexy, too."

"Yeah...and funny and caring and beautiful and thoughtful and smart..."

"You sound like you're down bad more than me." You giggled.

"Well then, babe, you should catch up."

"Oh, I will."

"Good," Eddie said, sounding tired. He leaned over to give you a hug and kiss before rolling away.

You pouted. "Why don't you ever hold me at night?"

"Angel, I love you, but you're like a million degrees when you sleep. You make me feel like I'm going to melt into a puddle."

"I bet Steve would cuddle me."

Eddie chucked into the dark. "I bet he would."

You huffed.

;

You laid on the couch, head on Eddie's lap and feet on Steve's. Credits rolled across the TV screen, throwing the room into near darkness. Red flared above you as Eddie took a hit, passing the remnants of a joint to you. You took a drag and inhaled. Steve's hand lightly caressed your leg as he brought it to yours, plucking the joint from your fingers. You exhaled shakily and Eddie rubbed the back of your neck as his hands brushed through your hair. He knew.

It'd been a few weeks since your and Eddie's conversation regarding Steve's behavior, and since then, you couldn't stop seeing all the things Steve did for you both. Reading the books you raved about, listening as Eddie's band practiced and giving praise, buying little things he thought you two would like. You and Eddie tried to return the favor: you took pictures of the three of you together with the camera you'd picked up during your photography phase, visited him at work whenever the two of you were off to cheer him up, brought him home cassettes of his favorite musicians as soon as they came in. For his birthday, Eddie wrote him a cute little jingle and you gave him a collage of all the pictures you'd taken together; he loved and cherished them both. But nothing felt like enough—not enough to show him how much you two cared for him. Nothing short of telling him felt like enough, but you were scared. It felt too good to be true.

"Steve," Eddie said, breaking you out of your reverie. The man at your feet hummed. "Why didn't you leave with your parents? Why did you stay in Hawkins?"

A minute of silence passed.

Eventually, Steve answered, voice scratchy from not using it in a few hours, "It's complicated. Part of me wanted to go. I love my parents, but I never got to see them. They always worked too much. It felt lonely, when I was a kid. I thought maybe this was my chance to really spend time with them." He sighed. "But that wasn't real. They were going to continue working hard even after moving. I would've been alone again—actually alone, without all of you."

You made a sympathetic sound and he squeezed your feet in gratitude.

"And..." He continued. "And it just felt wrong to leave everyone. I don't think it would've felt right to live anywhere but Hawkins. Cursed as it is." He chuckled softly. "You know what I mean?"

"Mhm." Eddie answered for the both of you.

"This is where I belong. With you."

You knew he was talking about everyone, the kids and adults and other teenagers, but it really felt, in that moment, like he was talking about the three of you. You, Eddie, and Steve, saying you belonged together. You felt the same, deep down in your bones.

"Steve," you said suddenly, propping yourself up on your elbows. "I—"

He turned his head to you, leaning against the back of the couch, the moonlight shining through the windows to highlight his face, with its sharp jaw and high cheekbones and strong nose. His eyes sparkled and his hair glowed and a soft smile spread across his mouth and your words died in your throat. He was too beautiful, too kind, too loving for you. You didn't deserve him.

If it seems too good to be true, it probably is.

"Um," you managed. Eddie rubbed your neck again, giving you strength. "We would've missed you. If you'd left."

"I would've missed you too," he whispered, still smiling at you, giving you butterflies.

You laid back down and looked at Eddie desperately. He nodded and said, "Well, I better get this one upstairs," patting your hip. At that, you pulled your legs from Steve's lap, missing his warmth already. "Scoot up," Eddie murmured to you and you did as he asked. Once you were in a better position, he placed his arms under your knees and back, lifting you as he stood up from the couch.

"Damn, Munson," Steve said, sounding impressed.

Eddie turned you both around and he winked at Steve, making you giggle. Steve also laughed, staying seated as Eddie carried you upstairs to your room. He laid you on the bed gently. "Are you okay?" He asked softly.

You nodded but didn't say anything.

"You know I love you, right?"

You smiled. "How much?"

"Oh," Eddie drew out as he sat on the bed next to you. You climbed into his lap and straddled him. "More than the number of stars in the sky. More than the amount of water in the oceans. More than the number of trees there ever have been or will be."

Love for him pooled in your stomach. "Yeah?"

"Yeah," he answered simply. You kissed him, deeply, passionately. You wanted to forget you couldn't have Steve. You wanted to remember that you would always have Eddie.

Like always, he read your mind and pulled you closer, wrapping his arms around your waist and letting his hands rest on your ass. He ran his tongue along your lower lip and you opened for him. He gently moved your hips, making you grind against him, and you moaned at the hardness beneath you. His mouth left yours and ran hot kisses down your jaw and neck, stopping at your pulse point to suck deeply. You groaned again at the sensation, pressing harder against his crotch.

"Eddie," you panted. "Need you."

His teeth nipped at your skin when you said his name and you whimpered, his tongue soothing the hurt. His hands moved to the hem of your shirt and you leaned back so he could pull it up over your head. He moved towards you again, and his lips explored the newly exposed skin like it was the first time. He always made you feel so precious, like you were a wonder he couldn't believe he got to touch. You placed your hands on his face and pulled it up to yours, kissing him deeply again. He grunted, smashing your chests together in an effort to get closer to you. You gasped lightly as his shirt rubbed against your breasts, creating friction and making your nipples stand at attention.

He leaned back and pulled his own shirt off, throwing it somewhere behind you. Your fingers caressed the open skin, feeling the line between his abs, the happy trail leading into his jeans. Going lower, past the waistband, to the bulge that was growing as you kissed. You rubbed the heel of your hand against it and he broke away to groan into your neck, the sound going straight to your cunt.

Eddie suddenly flipped you so you were lying underneath him, head against the pillows. He trailed his lips down your neck to your chest, taking one of your nipples into his mouth and sucking. You gasped, hands going to his hair and pulling him closer. He swirled his tongue around, a hand coming up to tweak the other one and make your back arch. "Good girl," he muttered against your skin and you whimpered at the praise. "Don't worry, baby. I'm going to make you feel good."

He continued down your torso, sucking bruising marks here and there, making sure they would stick around for a while. Finally, he reached your waist, and he pulled down your pants and underwear in one go. You sucked in a breath as the cold night air hit you, goosebumps popping up. But it was quickly replaced with Eddie's warmth, as he ran wet kisses down your thighs and licked a long stripe up your slit.

"Fuck," you moaned, thrusting your hips up. Encouragement enough for Eddie to dive back in and devour you.

That's when the door creaked.

You looked up and said breathlessly, "Steve."

He stood in the doorway, your jacket in his hand. His mouth was open but he didn't move, watching where Eddie's head was buried between your thighs. At your voice, he ripped his gaze away to meet yours, and your breath caught at his dark eyes and hungry expression.

Eddie lifted his head. "Did you just call me 'Steve'?" But when he realized where you were looking, he sat up, turned, and saw Steve as well. He must've recognized the same look on his face as you did, because neither of you moved. In fact, Eddie brought up his fingers to drag through the slick wet of your pussy, making you gasp. Steve swallowed at the sound.

"Hi there, pretty boy," Eddie said, and Steve looked at him. "What a nice surprise."

"I—" His voice was strangled. "I just wanted to give this back."

"How chivalrous of you," Eddie replied, somehow sounding calm and wrecked at the same time. The hand not lazily sliding between your legs grabbed your ankle, and that was your only warning before he pressed his middle finger into you. You arched back at the sensation, still staring at Steve, who looked down at Eddie's finger pushing in and out of you slowly. "You know Steve, this angel right here has never been wetter than she is right now."

"Oh?" Steve said faintly. The squelch of Eddie's finger moving sounded louder than ever.

"Yeah," Eddie drew out. "I think maybe it has something to do with you?" On "you", he added another finger and you moaned loudly at the stretch. His rings felt cold against your hot skin, and it just heightened the tension in the air between you, Eddie, and Steve. "What do you think?"

"Fuck," Steve breathed out.

"How about you, princess?" Eddie turned his attention to you and you could see the wicked glint in his eye. "Who do you think is making you so wet?"

He hit inside you particularly hard and you cried, "Steve."

Eddie looked back at Steve triumphantly. "See, pretty boy? All you. Now, rather than me just telling you, would you like to come over and feel it?"

Steve nodded dazedly, stumbling forward and closing the door behind him. He walked to the bed unsteadily as you and Eddie watched him. Once he got close enough, Eddie removed his fingers from you. You whimpered at the emptiness, clenching around nothing, but Eddie leaned forward and pressed his fingers into your open mouth. "Suck, beautiful," he murmured and you followed orders. Eddie and Steve both groaned at the sight and your eyes fluttered shut in pleasure.

You felt someone shift and opened them to find Eddie now sitting beside you and Steve perched between your open thighs. You locked eyes with him as he shakily reached out a finger and gently swept it through your slick. His eyes widened at the sensation and he said, "Wow."

"Go ahead, pretty boy," Eddie said, his hand coming up and massaging your breast. "Give it a taste."

Steve kept your gaze as he slowly leaned forward and very lightly touched the tip of his tongue against your clit. You both moaned at the feeling, Steve's eyes rolling back up into his head as he pressed closer and pushed his mouth into your pussy. You let out sounds like you were falling apart, feeling like you were, as Steve's tongue explored your folds, never stopping, like he didn't want to stop. Like he wanted to map you down to the millimeter.

"You make such pretty sounds, sweetheart," Eddie said, and you wrenched your gaze from Steve to him. "Doesn't she, Stevie?"

You felt Steve nod against you, pushing impossibly closer. He was settling now, moving his tongue down so it could press inside you, and your body shivered. He did that a few times before running it back up, nosing your clit teasingly. "Tastes so good," he groaned, and you and Eddie both responded with your own whines. "Like honey."

"She's our sweet girl," Eddie managed to say, though his voice was barely there.

"Eddie," you whimpered out. He knew what saying "our" would do to you.

But then Steve pushed two fingers inside you while lazily sucking at your clit, and you cried his name out with pleasure. Your hips moved of their own accord, thrusting down to meet Steve's hand, like it was a dance you two knew how to do without ever trying before. Eddie's free hand moved and rubbed his hard cock through his jeans, slowly but forcefully. You didn't want him to feel left out, so you lifted a hand to tangle in his hair and turn his head towards you. "Kiss me," you pleaded in a whisper.

Eddie wasted no time, falling into you and your mouth, tongues immediately clashing. Your noses and teeth and jaws bumped together, feeling violent, as you chased your climax on Steve's mouth and fingers. "Do you wanna cum?" Eddie asked into your mouth and you nodded against him frantically.

He leaned away and you whined pitifully. "What do you think, Steve?" Eddie sounded absolutely breathless. "Should we let our good girl here cum?"

As an answer, Steve revved up his motions and worked overtime, making you wail wantonly into the dark. It only took another minute of Steve's ministrations and Eddie's kisses and then you were over the cliff, free-falling into your climax. Your body jerked as Steve slowed but didn't stop, extending your pleasure, making sure it lasted as long as possible. At some point, you moaned in overstimulation and Steve finally stopped, letting you collapse on the bed and try to get your breathing back. He sat up and put one of his wet fingers in his mouth, and you watched as he sucked it clean, closing his eyes at the delicious taste. If you could've moaned, you would've.

Then Steve opened his eyes and trained them on Eddie, who swallowed slowly. "Here," Steve said simply, and held out his other wet finger to your boyfriend.

They didn't break eye contact as Eddie crawled down the bed to Steve, wrapping his lips around the offering. He sucked eagerly, groaning at the taste, and Steve's eyes darkened in response. And you watched it all happen with half-lidded eyes, already feeling desire pool again within you.

Steve gently pulled his finger away, and Eddie followed it, not wanting to let it go. But then Steve leaned down and pressed his lips against Eddie's. It must've felt good, because then they tried to swallow each other whole, hands coming up to grip waists, shoulders, hair, before they found their spots: Steve's on the back of Eddie's neck and Eddie's on Steve's lower back. They pulled at each other endlessly.

You whimpered at the beautiful sight, and that broke them apart, giving all their attention to you. You shivered under their combined stares, knowing they weren't close to being done.

You were proven correct when you saw the wicked glint that had been in Eddie's eye now shining in Steve's. "Don't worry, my love," your breath hitched at the pet name, "we haven't forgotten about you. Right, baby?" By the end of the question, Steve was looking back at Eddie, who was hanging on by a thread after hearing "baby" fall out of Steve's lips and directed at him. He nodded with a whimper. Steve smirked, knowing he had the upper hand now, and moved his hand to Eddie's hair. He tugged lightly, but Eddie's head fell back like he'd been pushed. "Good."

At that point, you'd gotten some of your strength back, so you sat up and grabbed the hem of Steve's shirt. "Stevie," you whined. He looked down at you with an eyebrow raised and adoration in his gaze. "My turn."

"Your turn for what, beautiful?"

You seemed to shiver anytime Steve addressed you by a pet name, and this time was no different. "To kiss you."

Steve nodded and leaned down, still holding onto Eddie's hair and moving the free hand to cup your cheek. When he was a hair's breadth away, he whispered so the words would fall across your lips, "I've been wanting to do this for so long."

You melted and combusted at the same time. "Me too," you replied, and surged up to meet him. He moaned against your lips as they pressed against his. They were soft and sweet and a perfect fit. You never wanted to stop. All you wanted to do for the rest of your life was kiss Steve and Eddie, one after the other, again and again, that was it. You slid your hands under his shirt and lightly brushed across the skin and muscle. In response, he flicked his tongue across your bottom lip and you opened your mouth to him. His tongue pushed in and started to map your mouth like it had your pussy. You could taste the sweetness he'd loved so much and you dove it to chase it further.

Eventually, Steve broke away. You were all panting, eye contact electric between you. Steve took a breath and asked, "How is everyone?" Ever the most caring boy in the world.

"Good," you replied breathlessly.

"I'm great," Eddie answered eagerly and you shot him a look.

Steve laughed quietly. "It's not a competition."

"But I'm winning, clearly."

Before you could shoot a sarcastic comment in his direction, Steve pulled Eddie's hair so his head went back and his neck was exposed. "Oh?" The dark look was back in his eye. "Is that so? What do you think, angel?"

You hummed, watching as Eddie's stare bounced between you and Steve, desperation growing in his expression, hand going to palm his crotch. "I don't know if he's winning per-say...but I think he's been a good boy for us. Haven't you, my love?" Eddie nodded as much as he could with Steve holding his head back. "Yes, such a good boy, letting Stevie eat me out and letting me cum. Don't you think he deserves a reward?"

You gave Steve your best puppy dog eyes and he sighed shakily at the sight. "Now that you mention it," he replied, voice a tiny bit strangled, "he has been a good boy. I think it's time we give him some relief." You nodded at him. "And since I already got to experience your pretty pussy tonight, I think it's only fair Eddie does too. How does that sound?" He grabbed your chin and pushed your head back to mirror Eddie's. "Would you like our good boy here to fuck you? Make you cum again?" Eddie whimpered at the use of "our" just like you had, and you nodded at Steve desperately.

"Yes, please," you breathed out and Steve smiled sweetly. He kissed you and Eddie before letting go and moving so Eddie could take his spot. He was about to leave the bed when you grabbed his hand. He looked at you and you tugged him towards the top of the bed, motioning for him to sit behind you. "I'm a good girl, remember?" You asked, teasing gently. You turned so you were on all fours, ass high up in the air towards Eddie, who squeezed it hard. That made you arch your back and you gave Steve a coy but knowing look. "Let me be your good girl."

Both Eddie and Steve rushed to get rid of their pants and underwear while you waited patiently, looking over your shoulder at them. Within seconds they were back on the bed, at either end of you. The three of you together—it felt like the most natural thing in the world.

Eddie pressed two fingers into you and you keened at the feeling. He leaned down and kissed up your spine to soothe as you got used to the stretch once more. Steve slid in and sat in front of you, cock red and hard and already leaking. You dropped your head and used the tip of your tongue to lap up the white bead of pre-cum. You heard Steve's head hit the headboard along with a loud groan, and so you did it again—this time adding a swirl of your tongue around the head of his cock.

"Fuck," he swore, the sound seemingly echoing throughout the large room, making you wetter. Eddie took the opportunity and added a third finger to the two that were fucking you nice and slow and deep. You moaned around Steve's cock, halfway into your mouth, and the vibration made him jerk his hips up and push it in all the way. You gagged at the sudden pressure in your throat, but he was quick to bring his hips back down. "Sorry, angel," he whispered.

You swallowed the spit that'd gathered in your mouth. "S'fine." Looking up at Steve with doe eyes, you continued, "I can do it."

He smiled softly and kissed your forehead. "I know you can. You're going to take both of our cocks so well, baby. Right?"

You whined and nodded, bringing your head down again and taking Steve all the way into your mouth. "Oh my god," he groaned out.

"No gods here," Eddie smirked, fingers speeding up and curling to hit just the right place inside of you to make you cry out around Steve's cock. "Just a good girl who's about to create the most beautiful spit-roast imaginable." He removed his fingers and before you could whine about the loss, you felt the head of his cock press against your cunt. He dragged it through your slit, hitting your clit now and then, enough to make you whimper but nothing else.

Then he slowly pushed his cock inside you, letting you adjust as he moved inch by inch. "So tight," he praised. "Always so tight for my cock. Such a good girl."

You shuddered at the praise and being filled up. Steve spread his hands in your hair to help move your head so you could keep sucking him off. When Eddie bottomed out and you could feel the press of his hips against your ass, he stopped and just reveled in the feeling.

"You're so beautiful," Steve said as if in awe. "You're both so beautiful." You knew he and Eddie must be staring at each other as they both fucked you and you moaned at the thought. You pushed back a little on Eddie, giving him permission to move. He gradually pulled out and then pushed back in hard and fast. You choked around Steve's cock but didn't stop sucking his cock.

"Look at you, taking us both so well," Eddie cooed in a strained voice. His hips quickened, making Steve speed up your head movement. You were just between them, letting them use you for their own pleasure, and you'd never felt more perfect in your life.

Steve panted hard. "M'gonna cum," he managed, and you wrapped your lips tighter around him and sucked harder. "Oh, fuck, baby." You took him all the way, deep into your throat, and swallowed around him. He jerked and you quickly retreated so you wouldn't gag. His cum shot into your mouth and you did your best to swallow it all, some of it leaking down your chin. Steve slowed and eventually stopped your motion, extending his orgasm as much as he could, and then lifted your head so it was level with his. "That was amazing."

You smiled and used a finger to wipe the cum from your cheek and into your mouth, sucking on the digit while staring at him. He already looked wrecked and that was just the icing on the cake.

And then a hand, adorned with big silver rings, wrapped itself around your throat and pulled you back.

Your back came flush with Eddie's chest and you cried out from the change in position. His cock was hitting deeper now, and rubbing that specific little spot over and over again.

"Hi, princess." Eddie's voice was right next to your ear. "Having fun?"

You nodded.

"Ah ah ah, I wanna hear you say it. Let Steve and I hear everything," Eddie directed and then bit down on your pulse point.

"Oh, fuck! Yes, yes, yes," you cried. "Feels so good."

Eddie's wicked chuckle tickled your neck. "It does? Well, I think pretty boy here can help you feel even better."

Next thing you knew, Steve was kneeling right in front of you, hands pressing into your waist. He looked exhausted but there was still a hungry look in his eyes. Then he moved his hands up and grabbed at your tits, rolling the nipples in his fingers harshly. You dropped your head onto Eddie's shoulder, keening, feeling like you could explode.

"Look at us, angel," Steve said gently, and you turned your head so you could see them. They leaned into each other and kissed wildly. Both sets of their hands tightened on you and you whimpered. Your orgasm was on the horizon; it was a tsunami and headed towards you fast. Steve took one hand and dragged it through Eddie's hair, pulling him even closer. You felt his lips on your neck, here and there, and you knew he was marking up both you and Eddie, marking you as his. You leaned your head to the opposite side so he would have more space to create his art.

His other hand slowly slid down and then two fingers started rubbing fast circles on your clit. "Oh, god!" You shouted.

Steve leaned away, and Eddie retightened his grip and focused on drilling his cock into you, harder and faster and deeper. "That's it, baby," he said. "Cum for us."

You lifted your head and locked eyes with Steve. He nodded, a half-smirk on his face, and that was it. The tsunami hit and wiped everything out.

"Holy shit!" Eddie groaned as you clenched hard around him. You let out whines as he kept fucking you and Steve kept rubbing your clit, prolonging your pleasure to the maximum limit. Three, four, five hits later and Eddie was cumming too, his hips stuttering but still thrusting as he rode out the high.

At some point, he slowed to a stop and pulled out. You collapsed forward and Steve caught you, moving you so you could lay on the bed. He set you down gently and pressed kisses to your face. Eddie flopped down next to you and did the same as Steve. You giggled tiredly.

You were in heaven.

Then Steve was getting up and walking into the en-suite bathroom. You heard water running and then stop and Steve reappeared, carrying a warm wet towel. He gently cleaned you and Eddie up, then himself, then tossed it into the dirty laundry hamper. He was about to lay back down when there came a meow from outside the door. Steve walked over and opened it, and Sweet Potato emerged from the hallway. He rubbed against Steve's leg before jumping onto the bed, curling up in his regular spot, and falling asleep.

All three of you laughed quietly. Steve closed the door and returned to the bed. He climbed in and laid between you and Sweet Potato, with Eddie on the other side of you. You pulled up the comforter and got cozy.

"I don't know if this actually needs to be asked now," Eddie said, sounding worn out, "but I'm gonna do it anyway. Steve, would you like to date me and Y/N? The both of us, together?"

You looked at Steve and smiled. "'Cause we wanna date you," you finished.

It was pretty dark in the room, but you thought you saw a tear or two shining in his eyes. "I would love to date you, both of you, together."

Eddie sighed. "Thank god."

"I thought there weren't any gods here?" Steve teased.

"Oh, shut up."

You and Steve laughed. You looked up at the ceiling, feeling like you were on cloud 9. "This feels too good to be true."

"Well, it's true," Steve said.

"Finally," Eddie sighed. You felt both of their eyes on you. It gave you indescribable joy to know they were looking at you, and each other, the same way you and Eddie would. Like they were the most important person in the world. Like you couldn't live without them. Like they were the key to your happiness, and you to theirs.

You gave each of them a kiss and then turned on your side towards Eddie. Steve shifted behind you, and you felt his body pressed up against you from behind. His arm snaked around your waist and held on tight. "Is this okay?" He asked.

"Ha!" You yelled, startling both boys and the cat. They all stared at you and you looked back at Eddie triumphantly. "I told you Steve would cuddle me!"

Eddie laughed. He gave you a kiss and said, "You sure did, babe."

You all settled down again, and you covered Steve's arm with your own to keep him against you. "What was that?" He asked, sounding more confused than ever.

You giggled. "I'll tell you in the morning. Promise."

[spnfanficpond]

January 2024 Angel Fish Awards

(Angel Fish design by @slytherkins!!)

Every month all of you fantastic writers work your asses off to post some truly incredible stories. Our Angel Fish Awards are the way for all of us, as a community of writers and readers, to lift each other up and give praise to those who have captured our attention and deserve a few kind words. (Click here to learn more about how to nominate a fic for an award!)

Nominated by @heavenssexiestangel

The Unconventional Meet-Cute by @schizonephilim

I wanted to read something different from my usual go-to, and I had this story in my To Be Read 'pile' for a while, so I read chapter 1! I can't wait to read chapter 2. It's really well-written and the sexy times are awesome.

~*~*~

Nominated by @spn-fanfic-reblog-writes

Full of Grace by ilovehowyouletmefall (AO3)

I love this fic. I have read this thing so many times. I love the intimacy and how they develop organically. How Cas just takes why Dean gives and it’s how it should be in my head. It’s sweet and fluffy. I wish Dean would stop calling Cas “pal” as if he’s fucking Mickey Mouse and Pluto but it’s amazing. I return to it a lot. It’s a comforting story that deals with mental health and I’m glad it’s set in heaven.

Cuddle Deprivation by @destielshipper4cas

This is sooo good. It’s an incubus that feeds off affection and emotions through touch. It is so good. So fluff, Castiel and Dean confused about the different cultures, which I think is a great element because it's a common problem with relationships from people of different countries or even skin color at times. Must read.

Cuddlibus by @destielshipper4cas

It’s an incubus that feeds off affection and emotions through touch. It is so good. So fluff, Castiel and Dean confused about the different cultures, which I think is a great element because it's a common problem with relationships from people of different countries or even skin color at times.

Heartstring Promenade by @winchester-reload

This is the ending to the series I wanted.

Destiel's 1st Time by @chaoticmotherofall

Holy shit. Wow, primal. Rawr. Must read smut. I think it’s the scene most of the fandom would want to see if they could. Sorry, not sorry.

Dean's Delights by Redamber79 (AO3)

Destiel. Baker Dean. Can smell each other through blockers. Insecure Cas. Love it! He just wants to eat Dean up and kind of does! True mates are delicious, don’t ya think?

The Company by CasCase (AO3)

You’re gonna get intimidated by the language of ballet vocab but don’t worry, it isn’t important. It’s such an amazing love story and so well written. Wow. There is even artwork of the seriously important emotional scenes that just make it so much better. Omg! I wish this was a fucking movie because it’d be gorgeous!

Room for Two (The Mattress AU) by @almassi

Schmoopy fluffiness. I love it! I also love that Cas actually gets everything but doesn’t show it. Lol. He got the references.

truly there's nobody for you but me by Abi_in_the_Cosmos (AO3)

Omfg, hotness. Cas so teasing Dean. The shorts are used. The shorts in the BTS on the show of Jensen wearing denim short shorts, which of course Dean says they exist for an in-story reason. I don’t care. It’s great.

this heart and flesh shall fail by ValandraWrites (AO3)

Monsterfucker story, technically. Great story. Dean is not technically underaged despite what it says. Twist ending. Beautiful story with a sexy but sad twist.

The Biological Ways by @sitruunavohveli

Three words: Accidental office romance Destiel! A/b/o! Love it. Love that it’s Charlie too. Yay! I also am a huge fan of this author’s works. I’ve had the pleasure of working with them and they’re just amazing to work with. Please check them out.

Weighted by amireal, tiamatv (AO3)

I absolutely love this fic because I actually sleep with a weighted blanket and when my kids are sick, they love their own. I even have one in the car. It’s light but enough to feel it. This is just so fluffy and romantic all thanks to our favorite redhead introducing weighted blankets which helps so much. It’s been shown to even help babies but blankets aren’t great for them. Anyway, they’re so cute and that scene where Dean opens his eyes all slow and gentle with “hey”, just broke me. My husband and I do that periodically and it just means more snuggles and sleep. lol. Poor Castiel thinking he couldn’t have Dean which I understand since Dean has said so much he is straight or implied it rather often. Ugh. This was done so well. Thank you both!

~*~*~

Nominated by @deeranger

When There's Only You by AnOddSock (AO3)

It's such a visceral and extremely well-written story, dark and full of intense angst but at the same time it highlights that profound tenderness and affection between Sam and Dean. The whole "there is no me if there is no you". I was on the edge of my seat all the way through, my heart breaking for the brothers in such a delightful way. This fic is a great rollercoaster ride, like a dark porn with a substantial amount of well-thought-out plot. Heed the tags though... Your feels might not come out intact.

~*~*~

Nominated by @spnexploration

She Thought She Was Normal (series) by @aylacavebear

This is @Aylacavebear's first fic she's putting out into the wild and it's going to be a long multi-chapter journey. What a way to start! This first chapter takes us to poor Maria as a child, who has just lost her mother to a yellow-eyed demon, and Bobby sets her and her Dad up with Sam and Dean. Can't wait to see the whole journey!

Cuddle Deprivation by @destielshipper4cas

This was adorable!! The whole concept of cuddlibus was so cute and I loved when both Dean and Cas were trying to get more out of the relationship but thinking the other didn't want it. And including Sam's cuddlibus daughter was also adorable

Power Grows out of the Barrel of a Gun by Alaisabel (AO3)

I absolutely loved this AU. There are so many twists and turns and I had such a fun time working out what was going on. Dean is so anti-authority and he ends up in a relationship with Cas, a cop.

~*~*~

Nominated by @mrswhozeewhatsis

Fluffy Faerie Tales (series) by @ladylilithprime

This universe and the characters in it are so fascinating! Sam and Dean are half-fae, and Jimmy and Cas have a backstory that is wildly different than anything else I've ever read! (No spoilers!) Sam/Cas/Jimmy is a threesome I've never read before, I don't think, and I'm loving it. So far, all of these stories are filled with plenty of fluff, and the perfect way to end my day. Sweet dreams of faeries and friends are always welcome!

Cuddle Deprivation and Cuddlibus by @destielshipper4cas

I am now OBSESSED with the idea of cuddlibi!!! Like those who have nominated this story above, I find this idea adorable and sweet. And Cas is just SO SWEET! And there's so much delicious pining in both of these stories!! I now want to read ALL the cuddlibus stories!!

THANK YOU ALL, KEEP UP THE AMAZING WORK, AND AS ALWAYS, HAPPY WRITING!

- From your Admins and Manta Rays, @manawhaat, @mrswhozeewhatsis, @mariekoukie6661, @thoughtslikeaminefield, @spencereliotwinchester, and @heavenssexiestangel!

[renoxvated]

name: Roy Novac Sullivan

nickname: Sully, Courier, Courier Six, Six (for friends & partners only) are the most commonly used nice nicknames.

relationship status: Single. (but good luck getting him 2 mingle)

gender: Cisgender Male

romantic orientation: Bisexual (although he kind of fears sexual intimacy to a degree but he definitely has them urges) He leans towards men over women but still likes women plenty and is more verbal about that. He often doesn’t talk about his attraction to men but mostly because he tries to have this sort of social construct macho-ness about him. 

preferred pet names: Baby (this one is a lowkey favorite and he would DIE before admitting it because he's not a BABY!!!! but it makes him MELT) also Six feels weirdly intimate because most just call him Courier Six if they use the term and few folks know him by the distinction of Courier Six, as most would just say Courier or The Courier even, so it being shorthand for that just seems like a nickname of an already less used nickname. 

opinion on true love: Roy has never felt it from a person, never had people to watch that have either, so to him it’s a foreign concept. That was until he walked into Freeside for the first time, until he passed through The Strip— until he watched a Mojave sunset with his best pals shooting shit off in the distance. Until he actually had something other than his life worth losing and until he lost that and found it all again and again

Until he cradled a dying dog back to life who’d already lived more lives than he’d ever had. Until he pulled the bottle away from a woman who was drowning in it. Until he gave a man revenge before his own and tried to fix those broken little pieces after it was all said and done. Until he found a friend in an old ghoul who he had helped find life and worth in those old bones again.

Until he found family in a super mutant that lost herself, but found him and that was enough for her. Until he fixed up a little robot that became his reason to trust them all together... so many more folks he’d met and so many more he’d still see.

The Courier believes in true love in a different sense because his heart belongs to The Mojave, to New Vegas, to its people— first and foremost. Roy would die for them but more importantly he would live for them too, that’s what true love was, right?

opinion on love at first sight: He doesn’t think it’s real, thinks it’s mumbo jumbo right up there with the Mothman, because how would you know if you loved anyone that fast? His parents couldn’t love him at first sight so how’s a stranger gonna? He does however believe in lust at first sight, thinks that’s kinda obviously a thing some folks just have with one another even if they don’t admit it.

how ‘romantic’ are they?: He’s surprisingly very romantic, mostly because he’s pretty observant when his shuts his mouth. He’ll remember the little things and his love language is both acts of service and gift giving. He isn’t much for being very verbally vocal but he’ll bring his partner little things that remind him of them all the time and he’s always willing to do things for them. The latter to an arguably unhealthy degree.

ideal physical traits: someone who can hold their own in a fight but it’s not like a deal breaker or anything just a turn on. 

ideal personality traits: He likes people who take action in some way, he doesn't like people who sit on the sidelines if they can help someone. It doesn't have to be in a fight, Roy respects all sorts of ways people can show kindness. He's pretty easily swayed to those who do the bare minimum of being a decent human being, if we're being honest, so it wouldn't take a lot to impress him with a halfway decent personality.

unattractive physical traits: None, Roy thinks he looks ugly regardless of that being true so he’d NEVER judge someone else by looks. 

unattractive personality traits: He HATES when people treat him like he’s stupid, or make him feel like a child. He doesn’t like being talked down to, like he’s less than because of where he comes from and how he was raised.

ideal date: Roy is a VERY simple man, he’ll go anywhere and do anything with his partner and be perfectly fine. He might make comments if it’s something classy, because he’s far from a classy guy, but he’s still happy to trot alongside his partner. His ideal date is usually whatever they want to do, that being said if he’s picking for serious, he’s a let’s take the robots (dog and eyebot variety) out for a walk and get into fist fights with raiders sorta guy. 

do they have a type?: He does, although he’s unaware of what that type is. When it comes to both men and women, he likes people who know what they’re doing and can take control. 

Often Roy’s violent tendencies and crude nature come from him wanting to be the one with power, be that to keep others away or make him feel stronger like he can’t be hurt emotionally, due to the lack of control he never had as a child. He needs someone that can rein him in and ground him, by making him feel secure in his place in his partner's life. So basically his type is someone who can be assertive.

average relationship length: N/A

preferred non-sexual intimacy: Head scratches, face touching, eye contact, telling him he did a good job at things. Roy is very needy when it comes to romantic intimacy, non sexual or otherwise. He likes to feel like he’s wanted and needed (which unfortunately makes him easy to manipulate in some ways despite his usual bark about personal freedoms).

commitment level: Monogamous. He is very loyal, to a fault. It’s probably one of his biggest character traits, that is if he cares about you. He doesn’t have a problem with other folks and lack of Monogamy but he’s very keen on it. 

opinion of public affection: He will do it to get a rise out of people once he’s comfortable in the relationship but at first he’s very much lowkey nervous about it, mostly because he’s scared of any physical intimacy at all.

past relationships?: None, Roy has never been with anyone. He almost got with a ‘lady of the night’ once when he was younger but he fumbled the bag from getting flustered by being touched and not knowing what he was doing so he left and never tried anything else since then.

writers note: also i feel like i should mention that while roy has never been with anyone romantically or sexually and prefers people who can take charge. that doesn’t necessarily mean sexually and means more romantically and as a person. he's pretty hard to pin down into a relationship over all because he doesn't like to verbally express romantic attraction or attachment, and to be honest would have a hard time believing anyone actually like him like that. roy would probably be a pretty dominant person (although he’s very versatile to his partners needs and will step down on that trait of his just not without some shit talking probably) once he knew what he was doin’ because that’s just how he is if (u feel me) and man’s got a strength of ten he gonna HOIST his partner up if they want it lmao okay anyway back 2 ur scheduled programming. 

TAGGED BY: general tag everyone.

TAGGING: whoever wants to!

[pigerludio]

Monologue. Fanfic. Undertale (AU)

The author has a poor command of English, but he really tried.

Warning ⚠️: 16+ maybe? Obscene language

Character: Sans (Trite, isn't it? ХD)

Category: Gen. (I like it)

* Every time I come back, you're still standing there. You're still watching. * I don't remember when we started talking. You're a great listener. * Thank you for trying to help me stop my madness. * I hope you'll see the surface * Cause I'm gonna turn the hope of my world to dust.

* Hey, pal.

* I see you're not looking official today. Long-awaited lull, heh?

. . .

* Glad to hear it. I'm having a good time, too.

* You know me too well, don't you?

* Okay. I'm feeling as fucked up as possible.

* You really don't mind listening, do u? I'm gonna ruin your mood.

. . .

*Sh-- Okay, whatever you say! I'm-- I'm losing hope. You know how I feel about trust.

* The worst dreams come true.

* I disappear and there's nothing left, it's like I never existed.

. . .

* We're really alike.

* Too much.

* You wake up and you want to turn off the alarm clock, but you hear a familiar voice at the door and you don't know if it's a hallucination or another nightmare?

. . .

* I'm sorry, I'm really sorry.

It's my fault.

* I'm sorry I can't keep those who are connected to me safe.

* So many times I wish I'd quit so I wouldn't cause more trouble.

* To not make mistakes and not see those stupid, hateful faces.

* So THEY wouldn't blame me for it.

* Maybe I'm not trying hard enough?

. . .

* I'm tired.

* The more I try, the faster I lose my sanity.

* I don't know what THEY see in me, and it makes me feel bad.

* Over and over again, the same scenario

* I don't want to lose and lose myself again.

. . .

Learn my lesson and move on?

* Heh... that lesson keeps fucking coming back to me.

* Every. Fucking. Day.

. . .

* More research, huh?

* I think you're right.

* I shouldn't act like a bunch of dull dust

* I'm older, I'm stronger.

* Damn it, I hate this.

* I feel like a dirty liar.

. . .

* "No one deserves to suffer," huh?

* "Kill or be killed," remember?

* Oh, yeah, it's different for you.

. . .

* We've all been there.

* Sometimes I think that burning in hell forever is the same as a cyclical existence.

. . .

* You're right again.

* But we're stuck.

* We don't believe in luck, but we're going with the flow.

* We're in the middle of nowhere.

. . .

* Stop? Well, you can, but my machine is de-energised.

* Only THEY can stop here, and when THEY do, who the fuck knows?

* There's an abyss of hate and misunderstanding ahead and death is the final stop.

* You know, I've given up. A long time ago, I think.

* THEY'RE awful.

* And for some reason no-one ever notices.

* I've checked, they just don't remember anything after a reset.

* I can't blame them.

* But I'm dying inside

. . .

* "Everyone can be a better person if they try."

* That's what I've been telling THEM all along

* Then comes the grey. And dust. Too much dust to act normal.

* My brother is worried - a clear sign that I'm not coping.

* I need rest, which I don't dream of.

. . .

* Can you imagine how many monsters there are like you and me?

* From what you tell me, there's over a hundred of them.

* And everyone doesn't know how to get out.

* We're all dead tired, but every morning we get up and repeat the same familiar scenario for the second, fifth, eleventh time

* It's like we're not alive, we're not real.

* Masochism, don't you think? Why do we put up with this?

. . .

* You've said enough, the other me

* At least I'm relieved.

* Even the boneliness is gone.

* I owe you one.

. . .

* Heh, okay, I won't take it in the head, I'll take it on a pencil... or a knife blade.

* We can still have a bad time.

* Do you think revenge is a good motivation?

. . .

* Sad really.

* It's not like I'm crazy.

* Well, maybe a little bit. We all are.

. . .

* It's sad to realise you don't exist.

* So long, buddy. I'll see you again, I guess.

* Thanks for listening.

. . .

BUT NOBODY COME

And yeah, I uploaded this drabble to Ao3.

And attached the link. (It'll attach, right?ಥ⁠‿⁠ಥ)

[iviarellereads]

Full TLT series to date thoughts on rereading Harrow the Ninth paperback supplementary materials through Nona the Ninth chapter 5

A probably semi-regular weekly bonus to my reread blog, since sometimes you realize things on reread that just make you need to yell in a full spoiler space.

I guess I missed that the RBs were numbered in order of discovery, I never really looked at this glossary closely before. I still wonder if they're directly related to the House numbers or not though.

It gives me a little frisson that Judith was in the "Dve Territorials". Too bad she wasn't like… conscious enough to really meet Pyrrha during Nona. That could've been neat. I don't foresee it taking up page space in Alecto, though.

"Accepting a body that no longer works is akin to what I imagine amnesia is like." This is just rude knowing what Nona's book goes into. ;~;

The opening poem in Nona is one of the big sources of my theory that John Resurrected multiple times. First-draft dreams, and "This time will be the time we get it right". Let's say it again together: I need Alecto SO BAD, RIGHT NOW, PLEASE.

I also need Alecto to come and confirm/deny how much of each story of the Resurrection is true. The way Mercy and August talked, it kinda felt like they weren't with John before the Resurrection, but obviously John's Nona-Harrow dreams say rather explicitly that they were, or their dead selves were. The order of the Saints seems basically correct, the order of their cavs is less clear on both ends.

It's very interesting how the icons change so entirely for Nona's book. The Locked Tomb signifying Nona-centric chapters is such an intense hint as to who she is that I completely missed. The fruit tree as the Blood of Eden is a masterpiece, given how chapter 3 starts. The castle/tower for the Tower Princes later. Fantastic. Though, VERY curious how the Tower Princes name ties back into the River's Tower…

"All four pairs of their eyes belonged to other people." Oh gosh. It's funny to find these little lines on reread, because it's still true for Nona, her eyes are John's, not Gideon's. And of course, Pyrrha heard the arguments, knows who Gideon is, but wouldn't have context to suggest that Nona's eyes belong to Alecto instead of Gideon because she doesn't know Harrow touched the Tomb.

Pyrrha's reference to "the Bureau" making me think of how she remembers G1deon's old name (deadname? I still feel weird about what to call the original names since we still don't know how many were taken willingly) and now I wonder if that's what era this refers to, or if she was in some bureau post-Res.

This isn't really just an all-spoiler comment but I love thinking about which names Nona is hearing as names and which she's hearing as words with her language translation.

Nona feeling a tantrum coming with the kids… ohhhh boy that is so much more ominous after seeing the third tantrum. She could be exaggerating her feelings, because that's also a thing kids do when they don't have enough emotional regulation to understand where they are relatively, but still.

It makes Nona sad that Pal can do necromancy, why? Because it makes Alecto sad? Has this been addressed in an essay post? I feel like there's a lot going on here, and I wonder if it's more "Alecto is sad at the reminder of who John was-is to her" or "Alecto gave the power to John before she was Alecto, and it makes her sad that he shared it and bred it out without her permission", or if Nona's sad because it's a reminder of being Alecto. My best guess is 1 and 3 of those, less 2 or I think it would've come up before she was locked away.

[thegeminisage]

one of many reasons castiel spent the first year of knowing dean trying not to strangle him: dean's weird little winchester-only dialect

i’m fucking obsessed with this right now, so buckle in for a meta. a cool fun (horrible) thing about dean's dialogue is that a good 90% of what comes out of his mouth is:

a pop culture reference ("you're just gonna take some divine bong hit, and shazam, you're roma downey?")

references to real life phenomenon ("i don't wanna wake up missing a kidney in a bathtub full of ice" "try new mexico, i hear he’s on a tortilla")

these also often take the form of nicknames, and dean has a tendency to give people nicknames in general or call them something besides their given name, whether it’s affectionate or rude ("easy there, van damme" "so i’m girl interrupted" furthermore castiel = cas, ezekiel = zeke, etc, see also frequent use of "chucklehead" "asshat" and on the nicer/endearments end "buddy" "pal" "sunshine" etc)

an idiom ("a snowball's chance" "if it smells like a duck...")

slang ("drinking the koolaid" "jonesing for some hooch" not to mention the literal endless amount of words dean uses to refer to killing - gank, waste, juice, ice, etc)

a metaphor ("power up your batteries" "fly me back to my page on the calendar")

a euphemism ("cloud seeding" "i'd have given you an hour alone with her first")

sarcasm (his habit of replying "peachy" or "super" when asked how he is)

wordplay (see: the entire "vampirate" and "werepire" debacles)

completely nonsensical (guessing what happened to a magical artifact: "it was dug up by tomb raiders? it was seized by the king of the dead by warlords?")

said at lightning speed - if you pay attention, dean actually talks a LOT, usually a mile a minute (this makes me feel a way when you recall him being nonverbal for a year at age 4 but that’s another post)

slang IN ANOTHER LANGUAGE (casual usage of “guano,” etc)

a lie, a deflection, a joke, etc

or worse, something dean’s NOT saying, deliberately, because he’s one of the most repressed people on earth

the end result of all this being:

dean winchester is utterly infuckingcomprehensible. 

think about this. there's an ENTIRE SECTION on EVERY SINGLE EPISODE PAGE of the spn wiki devoted to JUST explaining dean's pop culture references, because the average viewer won't have seen everything he's talking about either. they have a whole page for this called “hunter’s lingo,” but honestly, it’s not all hunters, just sam and dean’s fucking batshit communication style. even i don't understand dean half the time. SAM gets it, sam speaks it back to dean a lot in the early seasons, but that's because sam and dean are 1. practically two halves of the same person 2. FREAKS. every time we get an episode that involves outsider POV is devoted to them going "what the fuck is WRONG with them?"

enter castiel. technically speaking, the show implies that angels are omnilingual. castiel should understand every language known to man, but knowing the meaning of words doesn't help him understand the following:

pop culture references

references to real life phenomenon

nicknames

idioms

slang

metaphors

euphemisms

sarcasm

wordplay

you get the idea.

listen to me. look me in the eyes. castiel cannot understand a single fucking word that comes out of dean's mouth. my guy laid a hand on dean winchester in hell and immediately fell in love with him and has no fucking idea what he's talking about ever. because not only is dean winchester's way of speaking CLINICALLY insane, and sometimes incomprehensible even to other human beings who are not sam, castiel is an angel, and someone prone to taking things even more literally than other angels do

go back and watch and watch seasons 4-5 especially. the reason cas does so much squinting and head tilting is because every time dean opens his mouth castiel has to open up his mental "dean winchester dictionary" and translate entire paragraphs on the fly, because again, dean never shuts up!

what makes this extra hilarious to me is this gem:

this line is from 5.13. at this point cas has known dean for AN ENTIRE YEAR AND A HALF. what you see here is my guy SNAPPING. cas made an EFFORT in this scene. he asked who glenn close was. he's telling dean that he can't understand him. he is doing his level best to have a normal conversation with this guy he has a crush on and for the life of him he cannot do it (equal but opposite energy to cas blowing up the gas station and motel room in 4.01, tbh)

yes, cas can understand dean's tone. he can use context clues, and he usually gets the general idea. and when cas DOES understand dean's jokes, he laughs at them. the first time we ever see him smile is during their 4.07 heart-to-heart when dean says "it was a witch, not the tet offensive." since cas has knowledge of human history, he knows what the tet offensive is; he got the joke, and he laughed.

but as far as actual dialogue goes, he consistently struggles to keep up. even after metatron gives castiel the pop culture knowledge in season 9, cas struggles to put it to put it to proper use (dean: "you wanna just walk right into the death star?" cas: "what does a fictional battle station have to do with this?"). whenever he asks dean to clarify it's always when he’s most annoyed, like most of the time he knows it would be futile but he's too annoyed to care. (dean: "i don't know who's on first, what's on second!" cas: "what IS second???") i’m pretty sure he spends seasons 4-6 wanting to shake dean by the shoulders and ask him why he is LIKE THIS. 

it takes cas - who, again, is omnilingual - YEARS to begin to acclimate to dean’s speech and start speaking that language back to him. it's season 8 before we start really hearing him use slang, season 9 before he begins to understand wordplay, season 10 before he starts using pop culture references (to other angels, who immediately fail to understand him, which disappoints him immensely), and season 11 before he really gets into metaphors. i don't remember what season he started using "yeah" instead of "yes" but i do know it took a really damn long time. 

and honestly, i don't think cas truly got the hang of it until at least season 11-12. that's something like 7 or 8 YEARS. it’s more than half the time they’ve known each other at the point of the series finale. 

so what's true romance, fellas? it's falling completely and totally in love with the most inexplicable person you will ever meet in your whole 4.5 billion year life, even though you have yet to understand a single thing he's ever said to you. thank you for coming to my ted talk

[spn masterpost]

[captainsimagines]

the warmth of winter || one

Summary: You’re home for the holidays after landing your dream job. When your dad’s old army friend stops by for the month, he makes waves immediately. Your little vacation is disrupted... for better or for worse? Nobody has to know.

Pairing(s): Bucky Barnes x (F) Reader

Based on the Song: ‘Illicit Affairs’ by Taylor Swift

Mini-Series (1/6)

Warnings: 18+ ONLY; strong language; suggestive language; creepy/clingy coworker; age difference kink (Reader is 25, Bucky is 39)

Word Count: 5,600+

Author’s Note: This is the only chapter without sexual content. This work is explicitly 18+ ONLY. 

     “Ooof.”

The suitcase snaps back and hits you harshly against an ankle. You take it slow, hoping it won’t swell too bad, and suck in a deep breath to lift it onto the first front porch step. There’s a handbag hanging from your left forearm, smacking against your stomach, and it takes another full minute of struggle for you to finally give up. 

“Dad!”

Heavy footsteps sound, and soon enough your dad stumbles through the front door to grab the suitcase from your hand. 

“I told you I would do the heavy lifting, Bumblebee,” he says with a slight grumble.

“You’re getting old and I am young, elastic. At least I tried.”

Your dad huffs a laugh and drags the heavy suitcase through the door, opting to leave it near the living room couch for now. Your childhood room was located upstairs and he would definitely need a small breather before lugging it up there too.

“Humor your old man. It’s built into us men! Lift things, cook outdoors…”

“Ha, ha.”

“It’s true! But hey, I’m happy to do it.”

He looks healthier, shining like the day you turned eighteen, the day you graduated university, the day you revealed you had gotten your dream job. His grays have multiplied but he still has his youth; obviously, considering he’s boasting about being your muscle. You haven’t been home since the beginning of the year, living the life in sunny New York City (haha, sunny), so it really is a big deal. 

He’s decorated the house like you guys do every year — Christmas tree and stockings, a menorah, and only six red and green candles for Kwanzaa since the seventh went missing during the holiday season of 2013. Your dad has so many friends from around the world who drop by this season — most as surprise, some planned. He usually has to run to the store and buy ingredients for certain dishes, and he would always obtain even more miscellaneous decorations. He’s a people pleaser and it worries you when that applies to other things. You hope no one ever takes advantage of it.   

“So, is Sam coming down this time?”

He shakes his head, “Nah, he’s enjoying Louisiana.”

“What about Bruce?”

“Some project of his got greenlit.”

“Natasha?”

“Undercover right now.”

You quirk an eyebrow, “How do you know that?”

“When the text reads ‘undelivered’, you just know.”

So it seems it’ll be a rather quiet holiday season this time around. A few of the neighbors, Wanda and Pietro, and maybe some newbies. “What about—?”

“I’ll just save you the time and tell you who is coming.”

“Okay, shoot.”

“The neighbors are all coming—”

“Ugggggh.”

“Shut it, you.”

You practically cackle and dodge the rogue pillow he snaps your way. There’s a plate of freshly cut fruit on the kitchen counter, so you maneuver yourself expertly around him to devour it. 

“And my old army pal, James. It’s his first Christmas alone. Thought he could spend it here.”

Your dad had so many friends but James doesn’t sound familiar. You wrack your brain: okay, there’s Steve, the Captain, who never really visited but always said he would soon, so you only ever saw him when dad visited him instead; there’s James Rhodes, but your dad only calls him Rhodey, so it can’t be that James; and there’s Bucky, the guy your dad rarely mentions because of guilt — the guy who saved his life in an unexpected firefight.

“He staying with us?”

“Yeah,” he sighs low. “It’s the first time I’m seeing him since…”

So it is Bucky. Must be a nickname.

“You gonna be okay with him here?”

Your dad steals the fruit from your fork and battles you for it. You two giggle for a small while until he ultimately wins. 

“Of course. I think after talking it through, we’ll be good.”

You don’t dig deeper. If your dad thinks James will be comfortable here and that he’ll find it relaxing, then it’s good enough for you. After all, the more the merrier. 

“So, when’s he arriving?”

Your dad steals the fruit off your fork again and pops it into his mouth. “Tonight.”

    Your room is relatively untouched. Every so often your dad enters to grab a certain blanket or to use the old desktop computer that whirs randomly in the middle of the night. The bed is made, the closet is organized, and there’s a random pair of running shoes you had simply thrown across the room last time you were here in January. Your dad even vacuumed around them. 

The water pressure in your apartment is better than the one here, but you don’t complain. It gets the job done. You unpack the essentials and place them on the bathroom counter. You try to arrange everything the same way you do back at your apartment  — makes this short month feel more like being home than on vacation. 

And you’re grateful your new job and your new boss are awesome. Three weeks off mandatory leave for any holiday you ask for, paid, as long as you turn everything in by the deadlines. Editing books just seemed like the right career path — you’d charge people in high school and college to review their essays. Just seemed right. And you’re working at one of the biggest publishing companies in New York City and blessed with a boss that realized her workers were human. 

Seriously, everything is perfect. 

Your phone dings with an incoming message. Okay, almost perfect.

‘Hope you’re doing well. Can’t wait to see you again! - Brock’

The groan that leaves your throat literally scratches it. You went on one date with the guy — ONE DATE — and you even ended it with a gentle, ‘I had a nice time. I’m just not looking to be in a committed relationship right now’. Didn’t work, though. Brock Rumlow is like a mosquito: you feel him invading your personal space, he turns up when you’re least expecting him, he’s drawn to you, and he just doesn’t die. 

Okay. 

Okay, a little harsh. You mean ‘go away’ rather than ‘die’, but for the sake of dramatics, you’ll ignore that.

He’s not insanely bad. He has good ideas and functions well in group settings and everyone seems to like him when he’s having one of his normal days. Everyone just knows to avoid him when he has a deadline coming up. But he always seems to seek you out when he’s stressed and because of that, you’ve seen the side everyone actively avoids. 

Anal-retentive. Obsessed. Clingy. And hopelessly oblivious to your attempts at getting him to leave you alone romantically. 

Your fingers hover over the screen as you think of what to say. You can always ignore it. But then he’d call. And you would kill yourself. 

‘Doing good. Happy holidays!’

There. Simple. You hope.

You’re busying yourself unpacking when your dad makes this excited sound downstairs. He’s literally cheering and there’s a distinctive noise of hands clapping on backs and polite laughs. You blow a raspberry and sigh. Time to meet new people. 

“Bumblebee, get down here!”

“Coming!” you answer, throwing on a knit cardigan before jogging down the stairs. Truthfully, you’re expecting someone close to your dad’s age, maybe older, and you’re prepared for the ‘wounded warrior’ talk your dad was discussing earlier. Except, you’re blindsided by what appears at the doorway.

James is around your dad’s age, maybe the slightest bit younger, with curly dark brown hair and crinkles around his blue eyes. He’s not what you expect — but you weren’t expecting to find Sam or the Captain hot as hell either as you got older. James is perhaps the most beautiful man you have ever seen. Radiating warm greetings and holiday spirit, if his ugly Christmas sweater is any indication. Even with that monstrosity he’s wearing, he’s gorgeous. And your dad seems to love it, and Bucky’s chuckling at him, and you realize he knows your dad truly. He wore it for him. 

It takes a full glance to finally see it: James has two arms. You’re confused for only a moment, before you snap out of your thoughts and decide to ask your dad later. James laughs at one of your dad’s jokes and looks up toward the staircase to finally see you. 

He flashes a kind smile, one that could topple countries and swoon opposing parties: it’s killer, absolutely devastating. 

“Uh, hi. Nice to meet you.”

James looks you up and down rather purposefully that it makes you quickly glance at your dad. But he’s too entranced by the hanging snowmen on James’s sweater so he misses it. You clear your throat and smile back, trying to ignore that growing tickling feeling in the pit of your stomach. 

Here’s the thing about James: For as long as he can remember, with every hook-up or flirty purpose, James has never once, never intended to, or accidentally wanted the attention of people’s daughters. Okay, scratch that. He’s an idiot. Everyone is someone’s son or daughter, but he has never thought that the daughter of one of his friends was attractive. Well, okay, no. Scratch that again. He’s considerate and not a complete asshole, so he recognizes beauty when he sees it. But thinking the daughter was hot? That’s never happened. Until now. And James is about three seconds away from slapping himself upside the head.

“Nice to meet you, too.”

Damn, even his voice is devastatingly beautiful. It’s deep enough that it’s not too rumbly, not too monotone. He sounds like even his laugh can turn water into wine.

“Help me with his bags, Bumblebee! C’mon!” If you didn’t know the major fact that James saved your dad’s life and is the sole reason you even have a father, you would believe your dad was genuinely, over the top giddy to see him again.

But you do know the facts and even though your dad is truly happy to see a longtime friend, he’s obviously overcompensating. This is a chance for him and James to talk things through, to air out the awkwardness that James apparently lost a literal limb and thus allowed your dad to come back home. I’ll give him a day to stop laughing at everything James says, you think. 

You rush to help with the suitcases, even though James is shooing you away as you try to grab them. Still, you reach for them again because deep down you’re ultimately a good host. 

“Damn, what do you have in this one? Rocks?”

“Bumblebee,” your dad scolds. 

James laughs and shakes his head, trading you one of the smaller bags for the heavy one. “Just my other pair of boots and some books. It’s almost winter after all! Can’t beat the snow and snuggling up near the fireplace with a good book.”

Books. Just your type of man.

“And you had to bring twelve?” You wear a bright smile that lets both men know you’re only teasing. James hauls the heavy suitcases into the living room and nods as your dad points out the guest room he’ll be occupying. 

“Don’t hate, sweetheart. It’s still not enough.”

There it is: the air restricted inside your lungs unexpectedly, pressure building in the temples as your face begs to smile wide in reaction. You’re worried once again that your dad is going to say something about the nickname, like he’ll scold James for calling his only daughter something even he doesn’t call you. But he’s already getting the midnight snack kit ready just in case James even mentions food. 

This man is affecting you in ways no man has affected you in a long time — at least, not since college. Not even Rumlow made you feel butterflies or sweet embarrassment on the first and only date. James walks like he owns the room, is quiet like he’s already spoken a thousand words, and as gorgeous as the sun setting in the west. You have the unbelievable urge to make this man some hot chocolate and ask him about his day.

Granted, the goosebumps erupting tell of another thing you’d like to do to this man but that’s out of the question. 

“James is staying until after New Years so he’ll need to go shopping sometime this week for… hey, what do you even eat?”

James laughs. “Same thing you do. Except I changed to oat milk.”

“Oh, me too!” you say a little too loudly, inwardly cringing by how high your pitch is. But James just grins and extends his arms like he’s about to match your pitch. 

“Better than almond, right?”

He’s got this way about him that’s so surreal, so different. He seems like the type of person who is easy to talk to — someone who listens and reads between the lines. You want to speak with him more, share a beer and get to know him regardless of the maturity levels, and it’s then that you realize that James — with little to no effort — has you wrapped around his finger. 

“Blah blah blah, next thing you two will be crucifying me for still drinking milk from a cow,” your dad says, mumbling. You roll your eyes at him and try your hardest to get a grip. This man is your dad’s friend. And he’s several years older than you — a good fifteen at least — and if the feeling you’re getting is anything to go by, it just seems way too taboo.

“I’ll take you shopping tomorrow, alright? In the morning, since we’re celebrating Hanukkah with my friend Wanda later at night.” James picks up his discarded suitcases effortlessly and nods in agreement to your schedule. 

“Hey, I know it’s early but I’m working overtime tonight so I’ve gotta head to bed now,” your dad says to James, then claps him on the back and leads him to the downstairs guest room. 

“Nice meeting ya, Bumblebee,” James teases, his voice low.

You cringe. “Don’t call me that.”

He likes this already. The teasing, the joking, the carefree nature you and the rest of the household already have. He was worried this vacation would be too uptight, too knitted, too strung that the slightest mishap would open the seams and spill the contents on the floor. Because James was ready to pass on this invitation. He hadn’t seen his friend in almost fifteen years, and the last encounter involved an awkward lunch and James choking on his tortilla chip before the entrees came out. Ever since then, it’s been greeting cards and the occasional email. This invitation stewed in his brain for two weeks before he accepted it — one phone call and an hour of packing later, James bought a plane ticket and saved it in his Apple wallet. Even Steve encouraged him to go, and apologized about not being able to make the same trip down. Besides, James’s sister decided to spend this holiday season in Italy with her fiance. So he was truly, embarrassingly, family-free. Not that he doesn’t consider Steve family, but it’s different visiting Steve’s mom and acting like he belongs.

James watches from outside the door frame as your dad sets up the room. “Okay, what do you wanna be called?”

“Uh, my name?” 

James chuckles and rolls his shoulders. He looks you up and down again, breathes in slowly and finally graces you with another kind smile. “I don’t think I can do that, doll.”

Your chest constricts with a feeling like that of a heavy-loaded semi knocking you out of your shoes and three lanes over. Because the slip of his tongue and the roll of his syllables, perfectly calculated, has made you involuntarily shiver. 

And when you shiver because of what a man has said — well, you’re in too deep to disregard the innocent, sweet crush that evolves into a raging, carnal desire to have this man on you, underneath you, and utterly yours. 

He speaks like it’s a challenge: he wants you to deny the new nickname. Choose another one. Perhaps insist he call you by your birth name. But instead you smile back and try your hardest not to show anything but innocent politeness. 

“That’s fine.” You desperately try to ignore the subtle way his eyebrows raise in surprise. “Nice meeting you, James.”

“Bucky.”

You turn on the staircase and look back over your shoulder. “Hmm?”

“Bucky. My name is Bucky.”

“Okay,” you stage-whisper. “Bucky.”

He grins, lip curling up higher on the right side. He speaks low: a sweet confirmation. “Doll.”

     “Hello?” Your little greeting comes out like a sing-song, the bell over the door providing the music. The shop looks empty despite the hundreds of flowers filling it up and Wanda’s instrumental playlist plays on the speakers. “Anyone here? I want to buy some flowers!”

On cue, a head pops out from the back office, already scoffing. “Last time you bought a fuckin’ flower it was an apology to your dad for gettin’ caught taggin’ the abandoned building down the street.”

Clint comes out lugging dozens of roses by the box, shirtless and sweaty. He’s already got this fucking smirk on his face that tells you he’s joking; he even laughs loudly after calling you out.

“Maybe if you were nicer I’d buy some more.” You remove your gloves and heavy jacket, placing them on one of the couches near the violets. “And if I ever do, I’d buy them directly from Wanda.”

He adjusts his hearing aid for a short moment. “Last time the sale was mine,” Clint praises and sets the box on the front counter. He begins sorting through and laying individual roses in their own plastic baggy. “Lookin’ for Wanda?”

“Yeah, she around? Wanted to know what else I should order for tomorrow.”

“Eh, she says Pietro has all the food covered. You just provide the roof.”

Clint runs the shop with pure chaos. He’s done the same routine long enough that he doesn’t prick his fingers anymore on thorns, or end up breaking the new fancy vases Pietro has specially made and ordered. Clint’s come a long way since the Maximoff parents gave him this job, and after they died he seemed to level-up. Now he runs the shop chaotically but efficiently whenever Wanda’s not around; the only thing he loses throughout the weekdays is his shirt. 

Last week it was his pants, but.

You take a seat near the counter to watch Clint work. “Ha, ha.” Clint’s a little older than you and Wanda, give or take a few years, so you figure he might know more people from around here than you do. “Hey, you know anyone by the name James Barnes?”

“James Barnes? I know the last name. By any chance, does the dude go by ‘Bucky’?”

“Yup! That one.” You pick out a rose from the box carefully, mindful of the thorns. It smells fresh.

Clint makes a happy noise and runs his palm over his face. He has this wistful look, like he’s remembering something. Your mouth parts as you think of the next thing to say but nothing comes out. Clint’s still in his little happy place and you awkwardly look around the store. Finally, he continues. “Good guy. Excellent bartender. Good fighter. Someone you want on your side.”

“He sounds important.”

“He’s only a few years older than me. Not by much but we still kinda grew up together. Helped me get this gig back when Wanda’s parents were running the place.”

“No shit?”

“Shit,” Clint confirms. He smiles then looks at you weirdly. “Why?”

You sigh, fiddling with your thumbs. You try your best not to let your cheeks heat up. “Dad invited him over this December. He’s in my guest room.”

“No shit!” Clint fumbles putting the rose he was holding into the plastic baggy, then runs around the shop looking for his shirt. “Why didn’t you say so sooner? He hasn’t visited in years!”

“Hey, woah!” You laugh and find his shirt first, holding it behind your back as he tries to reach for it. “Dad’s working overtime and he’s sleeping. Can’t let you and your big fat mouth go in there when everyone knows you’re loud as all hell!”

“Depriving me?” Clint dramatically gasps. He pounces for the shirt but misses as you maneuver around him. “That’s mean, Bumblebee.”

You roll your eyes at the nickname every person in this town has seemed to adopt from your dad. “This guy made a name for himself huh?”

“Promise me I get to say hi tomorrow.”

You squint at him, “Clint, I’m not depriving you of anything. The dude is probably getting ready for bed after driving all day.”

“You get that little melting feelin’ in the pit of your stomach when you meet him?”

It’s quiet on your part — you struggle to form a sentence. Clint’s just goes back to casually walking around the store, easily falling back into routine, waiting for an answer. But from the way he’s smirking, he seems to already know it. He laughs loudly, “Happens to everyone! Swore up and down I was in love with him for a good two weeks before I realized I was in love with the free beers he gave me at eighteen.”

“I didn’t get that sinking feeling—”

“Melting,” Clint sounds out. “Melting. He gives off this special vibe. Straight up, everyone in town loves him. He better hide good before all the middle-aged, divorced housewives come knockin’.”

You’ve got your eyebrows furrowed and a funny grin. Clint’s making it sound like you’ve got a literal celebrity in your house. “Melting.”

Clint smirks, finally snatches the t-shirt from your hand, and throws it over his head. “You’ll see for yourself soon enough. He’s close with all your dad’s friends, man. How did you not know about him?”

James… Bucky… grew up here. Your dad didn’t. Your dad moved here for the cheap prices, liked the atmosphere, and stayed. So, you grew up here. And it was just pure coincidence that your dad and Bucky ended up fighting in the same unit.

You shrug. “Dad never really mentioned him. And when he does, he says ‘James’.”

Clint hums in understanding. “Weird, though. Bucky helped Sam repair the family boat a few years back. Got the thing up and runnin’ again perfectly. Helped Steve with a VA campaign back in Brooklyn a few months ago. Hell, he’s bailed Nat out of jail more times than she can count on her perfectly polished hands.”

“I’ve been away for a year. How do I not know any of this?”

Clint looks at you like he can’t believe it either. “Guess he’s not popular with people from your age group. Bucky stopped giving underage kids drinks a little after he returned from the Army, so.”

Clint was already a year graduated when you were barely a freshman. You spent your young childhood helping Captain Rogers during the ‘protest seasons’, painting signs and baking cookies for the newly returned vets, and marching down the streets of Washington DC. You spent some summers down by the docks with Sam and Sarah, learning how to fish and fix the boat’s engine a thousand times over. So the first and true time you really got to know Clint was during your last year of high school when you became friends with his niece Kate. 

Kate played Bottom during the fall production of A Midsummer Night’s Dream, loud and boisterous and definitely not an actress, while you played the mildly crazed and horny Helena. But instead of making nice with the girl who played Hermia, you fell for the girl who got her head stuck in the ass’s mask and had to wear it throughout the entirety of the cast party. And you were hooked around Clint’s finger when you brought her home, stumbling over every porch step, until you two finally toppled through the front door. Clint took one hard, long look at you both, bit into his donut, and asked, “Where’s Kate?”

He’s been one of your closest friends since. 

You groan softly, “I’m going to the bar. I’ll tell Kate you said hi.”

Clint chuckles, “You do that. I’ll tell Wanda you stopped by.”

He clips the ends of roses long after you walk out of the shop.

     The bar looks the same as the last time you visited. The regulars are on the barstools, the same 80s posters of random rock bands are plastered over the walls, and the floor is the same shiny but creaky wood. The only differences are the new flat screen gracing the patrons with Thursday Night football and the Christmas decorations. Plus, there’s a cute little tree in the corner and you know for certain that Kate’s the one who decorated it. 

“Now, why didn’t I get the arrival text?”

Kate’s voice is cheery and refreshing. She looks just the same as when you left earlier this January, give or take a few natural differences. Her hair is longer, still jet-black, and she’s taken to winged eyeliner rather than her usual line. It makes her eyes look more sultry, more attentive, and she’s adopted lipgloss instead of lipstick. It’s a decision you don’t agree with as you hate the feeling of loose strands of hair from god knows where getting caught in the gloss. She smacks around the small towel she was just using to clean a glass and starts cheering as you take a seat at the bar. 

“I haven’t even had time to sit down. Get me a drink, will ya?”

She sticks her tongue out but does as told. Clint got her this gig after sweet talking Fury for a whole month. She bartends Monday, Thursday, Friday, and Saturday nights; they’re the best times of the week and you have no idea how Clint swung that. 

“Drinkin’ to forget a fella?” Kate smiles, leaning against the counter while blinking her eyelashes. She grabs you a beer after you roll your eyes. 

“Drinkin’ to try and get to know one,” you answer, and pop open the bottle. You take a long sip and flush from Kate’s excited gaze. It’s obvious she’s waiting for you to continue. “I think I have a crush on my new housemate. And everyone who I’ve mentioned his name to has gushed like a middle schooler.”

“Ooo, do I know him?” Kate asks quickly, but backtracks. “Wait, house...mate?”

You nod, shyly. “Dad’s friend. Dude who saved his life and almost died trying. Bucky Barnes.”

Kate pauses like her ears must have heard wrong, eyes wide, then her mouth drops as she releases the loudest gasp-scream you’ve ever heard. You should have assumed her reaction would be one of shock but you didn’t really want the angry stares from a few customers who are trying to watch the game. 

“THE Bucky Barnes?”

You smile as her voice raises an octave. “Yeah, apparently. Know him?”

Kate laughs again then points at one of the framed photographs behind her. There, a grainy photo that looks like it was taken on a flip phone depicts Fury, who looks only a few years younger, the famous T’Challa who you’ve heard has made it big in California with his and his sister’s big tech company, and Bucky… skinnier, tanner, and sporting one of the brightest smiles ever. 

“What was he, like sixteen?” you ask, shocked, and jump over the counter to inspect the photo closer. 

Kate snorts and giggles madly. “Believe it or not, but he was twenty-six.”

Your eyes widen in amusement and Kate matches your silly smile. You look closer, and that’s when you see it: Bucky’s left arm is a beautiful, metal, shiny black with intricate gold designs. He holds up some sort of certificate but because of the poor quality you can’t make out what it says. 

Kate continues, “Bucky Barnes looked like a twink until his early thirties. Saw him for ten minutes a few years ago. Hot damn.”

You can’t help but laugh. It’s ridiculous, but Kate is spitting truth: Bucky Barnes, since the second you first saw him this afternoon, is hot damn.

“Gonna tap that?”

“Who says that anymore?” you tease, shoving her shoulder playfully. She shoo’s you back over the counter. 

“I’m serious. You didn’t grow up with the guy. This is the first time you’ve met him, I assume?”

“It’s like I’m the only person in town who hasn’t.”

“Makes sense. He moved to Brooklyn when we were kids. Came back one time when you were down in Louisiana with Sam. Has a pollen allergy so he never went into Wanda’s shop.  Came back last year for a week but you were working and I was at a conference.”

“So, I’ve literally missed him.”

“Each time,” Kate confirms. “You know, I fully support this affair—”

“Stop talking.” You roll your eyes and take a larger gulp of your beer. The thought of getting it on with the Bucky Barnes is getting even more and more risque. You and Kate speak a while longer, catching up on discussions about work, friends, family, pets, the works. She’s a little busy so she can only make mild small talk, but coming home and not visiting her that very day? Not possible.

She only brings up Bucky again when you’re about to leave. She gives her approval, then goes back to working. But only for a moment because she pours two shots, passes one to you, and exclaims, “To DILFS!”

To your surprise, about half the bar repeats the dirty chant back. “He got kids?”

“No,” Kate laughs, and shoots back the shot. “Not that this town knows of. And we know a lot.”

God, you’ve missed her. So loud and energetic and isn’t afraid to tussle with her fists or words. Your friends back in New York are more reserved, work-oriented — and sure, that’s great and all but they don’t give you that feeling of childhood wonder the same way your friends down here do. It’s your first year working at that company, and you’ve got to put the time and effort in. Once you get a better footing, you can start scheduling more vacation days.

You don’t know what you were expecting from asking about Bucky around town. Guess you were hoping for some bad stories that would quickly extinguish any flame that previously ignited by just hearing him speak. You wanted a reason to avoid him or adopt him as yet another father figure, but now that’s near to impossible. ‘DILF’ really does fit him and it would take a fucking firing squad to get that image out of your mind. 

Bucky has planted his hyped influence in your house, in the room right beneath yours, in the back of your mind — and you find that you don’t hate it one bit. 

     “You’re up late.” 

The silky voice startles you and you do a little jump in your chair. You run your palm over your entire face and chuckle back at him. “It’s gonna take me a few more days to get used to not working until midnight.”

Bucky nods in understanding. He goes to the fridge to pull out a water bottle and unscrews the cap. “You his only kid? I remember him saying he had a three-year old at home way back in the desert.”

That makes you gush. The thought of your dad, freshly eighteen and living the most horrible part of his life, telling his whole squad about the three-year old he was trying to create a better life for… it makes you a little emotional. You’re used to the attention: hell, whenever your dad was working, Sam, Steve, and Bruce would reenact Three Men and a Baby at the local grocery store to get dates. “Yeah. Had me at fifteen; kept me around even after my mom ditched. He joined the army for the benefits and money. Left me with his sister while he was fighting.”

“Fifteen… So what, that makes you…?” Bucky looks to be doing the math behind his eyes and a tiny smirk starts forming on his very pink lips. 

“Twenty-five. Yup.” You clear your throat and move the spoon in your tea. The lights from the Christmas tree are on and twinkling and seven of the eight candles of the menorah are lit. Bucky takes the time to marvel at the light too. “You forty as well, or?”

“Just about. Thirty-nine.” Bucky looks back to you and blushes. He rubs the back of his neck with his metal hand. It seems to have had a few minor upgrades since the photo at the bar was taken. It’s the same size as his flesh one and its movement is fluid: thirteen years of experience (if he got it a twenty-six), you guess. 

“Hmm.” You really wish you had turned the television on or something. It’s too quiet and all that can be heard is your breathing. Your dad left for work an hour ago. 

Your little hum has Bucky’s mind whirring. What is that supposed to mean? It’s stupid to overthink it, but he wants to know. Was it a little hum to simply acknowledge his age? Was it a brush-off? Or was it acknowledgement with a sprinkle of interest? Bucky’s a lot of things and being an underthinker isn’t one of them.

It’s already slightly awkward, so you decide to do it now. Rip the band-aid off. You have to say it. “Look, I don’t know how to say this. Or if I should even bring it up… but I’d like to thank you for saving his life.”

“You don’t have to do that—”

“No, seriously. I wouldn’t have had a dad growing up. I mean, I have a lot of father figures. But like…”

He smiles, but takes another sip of water to somehow hide it. “I know what you mean.”

The gesture makes your stomach churn. “Okay… good. I won’t mention it again.”

Bucky’s dressed in a tight, black t-shirt and those cliche red checkered pajama pants. His hair looks recently washed and the ends are curling in all directions. Bucky’s also got subtle bags under his eyes: he must have napped while you were out. He doesn’t look thirty-nine. Granted, you’re used to your dad going gray early from the stress at work. Bucky doesn’t have gray on his head, not that you can see from where you’re sitting. He does seem to have some grays in his beard. You want to stand and look closer, out of curiosity, and to maybe see just how blue his eyes really are. 

“So, uh, what are you?” Bucky says with an awkward smile, twirling his index finger in the air. 

“Huh?”

He then points to the Christmas tree, to the Menorah, to the ‘Happy Holidays’ pillow cases. “You Christian? Jewish? Undecided?”

“Oh!” You cover your mouth as a giant smile threatens to break through. “During this time, um, Dad and I have a lot of friends who visit. Sometimes on different days so we figured for the entire month of December, it should feel like everyone’s welcome. It’s quite funny because we aren’t, like, anything specific. All the colors are nice, though.”

“I think that’s very welcoming.”

He must be blushing as hard as you are right now. His cheeks are pinker than when you started this conversation. “You?”

Bucky shrugs, “Father was Catholic. Mom was Jewish. Guess that’s why I like your little set-up so much.”

You chuckle, then it falls silent again. But it’s not some awkward silence this time: it’s charged with tiny smiles and little shuffles of the feet. That odd feeling starts in the middle of your chest, travels down through each individual rib, and settles nicely in the pit of your stomach. It’s not really butterflies, it’s more like — melting.

You suck in a deep breath and stand to pour your remaining tea down the sink. “I’m sorry if I’m a little awkward. I’m usually very talkative with dad’s friends.”

He shrugs again. “No worries. I basically ambushed you on my way to get water.”

It’s an exaggeration but you know Bucky says it because he must be feeling it too. When goosebumps erupt on your arms, you can’t really expect the conversation to be labeled as innocent. You quickly change the subject. “Well, hey, I usually go running with my friend Wanda in the mornings but I’ll be back before nine to take you shopping.”

“Oh, great!”

You bring your hand up to chew on your index nail for a few seconds. The action makes Bucky’s gaze immediately drop to your lips. Quickly, you say, “Goodnight, Bucky.” You slowly walk past him and to the stairs.

He snaps himself from his daze fast. “Night, doll.”

“You calling me that makes me feel like some 1940s princess,” you teasingly complain, turning on your heel to look back at him. 

That’s exactly why he says it. He’s always been interested in period pieces, old music, even movies based during those years. It’s such a delicate nickname, one assigned to people who truly fit the bill, and Bucky, ever since the moment he saw you hop the final stair and bounce into the room, thought you were an absolute doll. 

Bucky bites his lip and screws the water bottle shut. “Took one look at ya and that’s the name that came to mind.”

Rolling your eyes, you take tiny backward steps until you reach the staircase railing. “Each time you say it, it sounds like you’re trying to pick me up.”

“Mm.”

The air you try to breathe stops in the middle of your throat. You’re not sure your lungs even tasted it. His tiny hum of acknowledgement is so subtle, so innocent, that it’s not innocent at all. You shouldn’t say it — hell, you shouldn’t even be thinking it — but you want him to elaborate on that hum, to explain with great detail just why he didn’t bother denying it. 

“Yeah… Anyway… Night.”

Bucky smirks as he watches you walk away. He only feels a little guilty for enjoying the view.

xxMoni

[gatorprompts]

𝐃𝐀𝐑𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐕𝐈𝐋  ���𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄  𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐒 .

taken  from  season  one  of  the  tv  show .  swearing  ,  gun  ,  injury  &  shooting  references  present .  

“ you  were  right  ...  what  you  told  me  on  the  radio  that  night .  not  everyone  deserves  a  happy  ending . ” “ you  don’t  get  to  be  the  man  on  the  top  without  making  enemies  looking  to  tear  you  down . ” “ it’s  funny  ,  isn’t  it ?  how  the  best  of  men  can  be  deceived  by  their  true  nature ? ” “ what  the  hell  does  that  mean ? ” “ what  am  i  supposed  to  do  ?  how  do  i  stop  him ? ” “ last  time  you  went  after  fisk ,  i  found  you  half  dead .  more  than  half !  you  go  after  him  in  the  mask  again ,  he  might  kill  you . ” “ there’s  nothing  i  want  more  than  to  find  a  way  back  to  where  we  were ,  but  i  don’t  know  if  we  can . ” “ maybe  we  can  find  a  way  to  move  forwards . ” “ you  tried  to  kill  me . ” “ he  was  a  good  man  ,  and  he’s  gone  because  i  haven’t  stopped  what’s  happening  to  this  city . ” “ you  went  after  my  mother .  that’s  not  something  i  can  forgive . ” “ i  wrote  a  lot  of  stories  in  my  years  pushing  ink .  you  know  how  many  times  people  have  threatened  me ?  get  me  to  keep  my  mouth  shut ? ” “ i’ve  made  mistakes  in  the  years  since  i  was  a  boy .  i  tried  to  learn  from  them ,  but  it  isn’t  always  enough . ” “ i’m  not  seeking  penance  for  what  i’ve  done ,  i’m  asking  for  forgiveness  for  what  i’m  about  to  do . ” “ you  can’t  take  it  to  the  police .  i  don’t  trust  anyone . ” “ are  you  going  to  listen  to  me  this  time ? ” “ who  are  you ? ” “ i’m  the  lucky  girl  who  pulled  you  out  of  the  garbage . ” “ you’ve  seen  my  face . ” “ your  outfit  kind  of  sucks ,  by  the  way . ” “ there’s  someone  in  this  building  ,  a  man  ,  going  from  door  to  door . ” “ you  can  smell  a  man  on  the  third  floor ? ” “ you  knew  which  side  you  were  on  the  moment  you  found  me .  why’d  you  help  me ? ” “ you  embarrassed  me .  you  embarrassed  me  in  front  of  her . ” “ lawyer  by  day ,  vigilante  by  night .  the  hell  does  that  work ? ” “ i  will  tell  you  everything  i  know ...  for  a  deal . ” “ you  really  shouldn’t  have  said  his  name . ” “ don’t  move .  you’ve  been  shot . ” “ that  sounds  pretty  bad ,  but  i  don’t  speak  asshole . ” “ i’m  going  to  kill  you  for  taking  my  brother’s  head . ” “ i  don’t  kill  people .  not  even  scumbags  like  you  who  deserve  it . ” “ yeah ,  but  he  was  still  breathing ,  wasn’t  he ? ” “ are  you  there ?  can  you  hear  me ? ” “ you  and  i  have  a  lot  in  common . ” “ you  promised  me  you  weren’t  gonna  kill  anyone . ” “ it’s  people  like  this  that  wanna  keep  you  down .  keep  you  afraid .  you  have  to  show  ‘em  that  can  never  happen . ” “ i  speak  many  languages . ” “ me  and  you ,  pal .  we’re  gonna  have  big ,  fancy  offices  one  day ,  with  steel  and  glass  and  chairs  you  don’t  even  know  how  to  sit  in . ” “ yeah ,  trust  me .  i  can’t  see  worth  shit ,  but  my  hearing’s  spectacular . ”  ” we’re  gonna  be  the  best  damn  avocados  this  city  has  ever  seen . ” “ you  don’t  necessarily  show  the  best  judgement  when  beautiful  women  are  involved . ” “ so ...  what ?  you’re  a  couple  of  good  samaritans ?  today’s  just  my  lucky  day ? ” “ i  bribed  the  desk  sergeant  with  a  box  of  cigars .  for  his  mom . ” “ okay ,  good .  because  i  was  starting  to  worry  you  might  be  in  love  with  me . ” “ i’m  a  good  secretary ! ” “ no ,  you  gaze  at  me  lovingly  when  you  think  i’m  not  looking . ”   “ do  you  really  want  to  get  into  this  in  front  of  him ? ” “ it  makes  me  feel  alone . ” “ stories  like  this  are  built  on  sources .  credible  sources . ” “ that’s  either  very  romantic  or  very  sad . ” “ you  didn’t  grow  up  here ,  did  you ? ” “ you  have  x-ray  fingers  now ? ” “ what  do  you  actually  see ? ” “ if  all  i  saw  was  fire ,  i’d  probably  want  to  hit  people  too . ” “ i  can’t  get  any  of  this  crap  i  bought  to  work ! ” “ so  why  does  a  man  like  you  feel  alone ? ” “ you  sound  like  an  artist . ” “ what  kind  of  gun  is  that  you  have  in  your  purse ? ” “ i  know  you’re  a  dangerous  man . ” “ no .  i’d  like  a  reason  to  stay . ” “ i’ve  done  things  that  i’m  not  proud  of .  i’ve  hurt  people  and  i’m  going  to  hurt  more . ” “ it’s  not  as  easy  as  it  looks  in  the  movies ,  you  know ? ” “ i  respect  your  conviction  even  if  it  runs  counter  to  my  own . ” “ what  did  i  say  about  questions ? ” “ i’m  not  stupid ,  i’m  smart . ” “ smart  don’t  come  out  of  books .  smart  is  making  the  right  decision  at  the  right  time . ” “ there  are  no  heroes ,  no  villains . just  people  with  different  agendas . ”  “ it  is  the  clever  man  who  plays  the  fool .   and  a  foolish  woman  who  does  not  recognise  it . ” “ there  is  something  very  intimate  in  experiencing  art  through  someone  else’s  eyes . ”  “ there  is  conflict  within  you . ” “ man  cannot  be  saviour  and  oppressor ,  light  and  shadow .  one  has  to  be  sacrificed  for  the  other .  choose  and  choose  wisely ,  or  others  shall  choose  for  you . ” “ you’re  going  to  get  yourself  killed  if  you  keep  this  up .  you  know  that ,  right ? ” “ do  you  really  think  i  would  put  a  loaded  gun  on  the  table  where  you could  reach  it . ” “ do  you  really  think  this  is  the  first  time  i’ve  shot  someone ? ” “ it’s  a  difficult  thing ,  isn’t it ?  taking  a  life . ” “ that’s  a  very  asshole  thing  to  say .  i’m  impressed ! ” “ if  anyone’s  in  here  who’s  not  supposed  to  be ,  i’ll  mess  you  up .  i’m  not  kidding . ” “ anger  is  a  spark .  rage  is  a  wildfire  :  out  of  control  ,  therefore  useless . ”

[tteokdoroki]

countdown | k.bakugou + e.kirishima.

♡ pairing: katsuki bakugou, eijirou kirishima  x fem!reader.

♡ word count: 6.1K

♡ rating: mature, 18+, mdni.

♡ genre: college!au, fluff + smut.

♡ summary: with the new year finally approching, your boyfriends figure out the perfect way to start the countdown.

♡ warning(s): please read ! heavy smut, pwp ( characters aged up to twenties ), drinking, mentions of alcohol, poly!kiribaku, unprotected sex ( wrap it before you tap it y’all ), oral sex ( female recieving ), fingering, choking, dumbification, degredation, double penetration, daddy!kink, master!kink, creampie, cumplay. guys it’s a lot idk what to tell you brrrrr. 

♡ author’s note(s):  um this is like 8 days late but happy new years y’all, first fic of 2021 and it is a Wild one !! this kinda goes with along with my christmas deku fic, you don’t have to read it but it gives some context!! thank for all your love and support, stay safe babies <33

♡ masterlist | requests

“don’t look so nervous, shitty girl.”

your gaze flicks up  and to the left of the rim of your tainted red solo cup, a pretty mauve stain coating the outer edge.  you can see bakugou moving in your peripheral vision, slender body resting against the counter in the kitchen you’ve hidden yourself away in— outside a new years party bustles away, so full of life that you’ve struggled to become a part of.  it was supposed to be a small gathering, a few of your boyfriends’ mates were getting together to see off the awful year after finals and tears and mishaps.

you were excited, you’d spent some time with the group before and were stoked to get to know them a bit better— but the idea had quickly been scrapped when kirishima’s roommate turned the tiny event into a full blown goodbye bash. so now your social anxiety was through the roof and you could hardly think about enjoying yourself.

downing the rest of your... well whatever the hell it is...you shift to face the blonde with a slight scowl.  “i’m not nervous, katsuki.” you half growl in an attempt to keep the explosive blonde away, but crimson eyes with mischievously sparkling irises only roll once, your lover can read you like an open book— and for that you hate him... but only just.

“yeah?” katsuki hums, turning to corner you against the worktop. forgoing your empty cup, your free hands instantly settle themselves on your boyfriend’s hips— the material of his black skinny jeans rough against your palms, sneakily to thread fingers through his belt loops to tug him closer and barely feel flustered by the half lidded gaze bakugou gives you. “if you’re not s’nervous, then why the fuck are you hidden away in here?”

it’s your turn to send your eyes rolling, to which katsuki catches and gives you a gentle nip to the cheek. “i’m not hiding either, i came in here to get a drink for kiri— hey! don’t look at me like that.” the rest of your words fall flat in a whine you don’t mean to set free, bakugou grinning like a maniac above you. his eyes sparkle at the hint of your lie as if he can see right through you, which again... you hate. out of the two of your boyfriends; the blonde was able to pick up on your behaviours slightly faster than kirishima— you put it down the quick reflexes and his complex for wanting to be first at everything but that didn’t make him any less annoying.

in response, bakugou bites down a little harder on your fleshy cheek, pulling you closer by the waist so that your legs wrap around him from over the counter. “a drink that kiri already has, baby? stop lyin’, you loser,” he mumbles into your skin, making you huff. “talk to me.”

“fuck you, but fine...” whining again and with a slight buzz of alcohol to your veins you tilt your head before bakugou can affectionately chomp onto your cheek again and attempt to steal a small peck from him. your love only denies you of this pleasure, at least until you tell him the truth. “okay, okay. i’m in here hiding ‘cause there’s too many people and i’m afraid i’ll be too nervous to talk to your friends.”

“‘m feeling burnt out katsu, there’s so many more people here than i expected and i’m worried that your friends might not like me s’much anymore...”

bakugou smirks, running his tongue over the top row of his pearly whites and you cross your arms in defeat.  “you’re so fuckin’ stupid, yn.”

“fuck you! right up your stupid little ass—“

your blonde boyfriend raises a brow which silences you quickly and makes you wriggle in annoyance. “you’re stupid ‘cause our friends aren’t gonna stop liking you for gettin’ shy— there’s a lotta people out there that aren’t exactly kiri or i.” you perk up at the mention of your latter partner which makes katsuki smile and release you. “just relax. they love you, we love you...let’s just say goodbye to this fuckin’ shitty year, okay?”

you nod and watch as the male moves away from you to fix you both another set of drinks while you adjust yourself to go back into the outside world. the kitchen stays quiet compared to the bass blasted music that echoes throughout the dorm halls, giving you time to grasp at feelings of anxiety and attempt to soothe them— you promise yourself to leave all of the negative feelings behind and focus on making happy memories with your friends. bakugou breaks you from your thoughts and hands you another cup filled with a drink you recognise to be your favourite, he doesn’t speak however and leans back against the worktop to drink his own beverage.

you’ve always liked that he gives you room to think and make a note to show your appreciation later on. your boy’s love language was always through actions and hardly ever words.

but your bubble of sweet silence is soon burst when one of your partner’s friends darts into the kitchen, a look of excitement dancing brightly across pink lined features. her amber eyes land  on you first and swiftly find bakugou after causing a smile to break out against her features. “ohmygod finally, i was wondering where you guys got to! come on, the countdown’s about to start!” you quickly place her name to be mina, remembering her voice from the last time you’d met and offer her a sweet smile in return as her hand reaches out for yours. you take it.

bakugou tsks; clearly irritated but pushes himself off of the counter and follows behind you motherless, mina dragging you in the direction of the living room. somehow she effortlessly weaves you through sweaty bodies of students from the floors below and practically tosses you to the sharks that can be named as your boyfriends’ pals. luckily, your katsuki is right behind you to steady your hips while mina flops onto a couch with the others.

“there they are! two thirds of our favourite lovebirds...” someone to the right of you speaks up; you recognise her to be the roommate you’d walked in on when visiting bakugou’s place before christmas and relax a little. the girl was nice, affectionate and ever so sweet with you the first time you’d met. she curls up in the lap of another guy with green chair, who you presume is the ‘shitku’ or ‘deku’ your lovers had told you about, respectively.

speaking of, katsuki makes himself comfortable next to kirishima on his old loveseat from your hometown— you’d played rock paper scissors with him to keep it, but lost. you couldn’t complain though, the red heard rewarding you with a flurry of kisses in place of the old battered chair.

but with no room and the gang already taking up most of the couch, eijirou pulls you to sit on his thighs and wraps his arms around your middle before pressing a kiss atop your head. “missed you, where’d you go?” he pouts into your neck and fiddles with the frayed ends of your skirt, his free hand grasping at the drink he had.

“i was—“

“she was hidin’ in the kitchen; pretending to fix somethin’.” katsuki cuts you off, earning himself a glare from you and amused chuckles from others ( having pulled their attention away from the countdown on the television ). he attempts to snuggle closer to you both afterwards, making your red headed boy kiss his cheek. you could tell that your explosive boyfriend was feeling a little left out, he’d always doubted himself in the relationship the three of you had ever since he’d found out kirishima had you; his lover back in his hometown,  before college. but you’d loved kiri and couldn’t make him choose between the two people he needed most in his life, so despite the tears and drama...you’d learned to love bakugou as well.

you reach over to squeeze his hand but don’t miss the twitch of his lips into a smile while he watches the live countdown on tv.

kaminari; the blonde who sits at your feet pipes up next— cheeks red from the alcohol he nurses. “why were you hiding, doll?” he hiccups, earning himself a kick to he back from both bakugou and kirishima. “ouchies...”

“she probably wanted to get away from your annoying ass...” sero quips from across the group, where mina lazily toys with his jet black hair; causing bakugou’s roommate to snort and spew her drink in izuku’s face. as far as you were aware, the pair were living together in their apartment off campus and weren’t dating, but might as well have been. katsuki had told you sero was a coward but seeing them now made you think it was cute.

“fuck you, that’s mean!”

“ah, but kaminari my dear friend, it is true...”

a boy with dual eyes chuckles, himself and another figure join the latter male on the ground, hair ruffled and clothes clearly out of place. the girl blinks up at you with a sweet grin before turning to chat with the other girls while eiji fist bumps the male. you remember them as momo and todoroki respectively. bakugou’s roommate checks her watch quickly, a faux frown playing at her lips. “and you guys are done with fourty minutes to spare before new years , a new record...quite frankly, i’m impressed!”

it’s your turn to frown as the newbies blush and attempt to hide their faces. the rest of the group seem amused, sero and denki smirking between themselves, your boyfriends and izuku hiding embarrassed faces while the girls giggle and tease. you can’t help the next words.

“what were they doing?” you whisper innocently and mostly to yourself, unable to focus on the feeling of katsuki pressing kisses to your linked hands to avoid adding to the conversation. however; all eyes teeter over to you, making you freeze up and shuffle nervously in kirishima’s lap.

“fucking in the closet by the front door, they do it every year.” mina teases, causing your face to heat up while momo swats at the pink girl. “nasty right, yn?”

“quit it mina, you’re making her shy!”

you swallow hard and nod shakily, and swear you can almost feel the quiet groan that erupts from katsuki’s chest. “right...”

the group is clearly a little tipsy and you’re not quite drunk enough to feel eat ease with the antics of your lovers’ friends; but one thing lead to another and the topic of conversation lands on you. “maybe yn will get a little new years treat too—“ midoriya slurs somewhere off, by now he and his girlfriend alone have downed a bottle of vodka and cutely make out from time to time. and yet, your boyfriends both have different ideas, the hot headed blonde preparing to launch himself at izuku while the manly red head blushes a shade so deep it could rival his dyed hair.

“what’d you say, shitty nerd?”

it all happens way too fast and you can barely register bakugou’s sudden movement before it’s too late— his elbow jolts as he attempts to kill his best friend’s lover, resulting in eijirou’s drink being knocked clean out of his hand and all over your cute little shirt. you squeal and shudder as the cold liquid seeps right through the thin material, exposing your chest to partygoers and friends alike who cheer as the countdown locks onto thirty minutes until the new year.

kirishima jumps up right after you, shielding your exposed chest from his friends ( mostly denki ) who refuse to look away and leads you up to his room to change while bakugou barks out expletives at deku.

after all it was his fault that your cute tits were out on new years eve.

“what if she’s mad at us kiri? she was already feeling anxious about being here tonight and now—“

“she won’t bakubabe, she loves us and she’ll know it was just an accident, you were defending her honour after all...”

you choose this moment to push open the bathroom door of kirishima’s en-suite, having wiped away most of the beverage that had made your tummy sticky. luckily your skirt had survived his awful choice of rum and cola but at least you smelled nice. two sets of red eyes cast their gaze upon your form, naked apart from the cute pink bra that cups your breasts and tiny skater skirt that sits above your plush thighs.

the boys can already feel their mouths drying at the sight of you have exposed under the yellowing light of kirishima’s dorm room. your skin still shines with the reminders of alcohol as you make your way over to them on the bed, sitting between them with the aforementioned red head’s shirt in your hands.

instantly they shift closer towards you, absorbing your warmth as their fingertips graze your skin. “i told you guys i was fine, i know it was an accident.” you murmur softly, taking both of their hands into yours. “besides, i needed to get out of there for a bit, your friends are—“

“loud?” kirishima offers, kissing your knuckles.

“annoying?” this time it’s bakugou who speaks, shoving his face into your neck to hide from you, still apologetic. his soft blonde hair tickles your neck and you can’t help but giggle gently into the air. “you liked that.”

shaking your head, you pinch at his side and tug eijirou close enough for him to lean his head atop yours. “—they’re a lot, a lot to handle... i just need a little time to calm down before we head back out there.” briefly letting go of your boyfriends’ hands, you reach for the red band t-shirt sitting in your lap in order to shrug it on, but your red headed lover quickly stops you.

“i could think of a few ways to calm you down angel,” he mumbles lowly, so much so that you feel the sound ripple in kirishima’s chest but you’re too distracted by the sudden feeling of katsuki sucking gentle marks into the column of your throat. “we still have a bit of time before we hit midnight on the countdown, right bakugou?”

the hot headed boy only looks up briefly from your bruised and bitten skin, a devilish smirk crossing his lips while the boys work together to push you back onto the sheets. “damn right ei, say we got about twenty minutes to take her mind off things,” your body tingles at the way the talk about you as if you’re not even there, heat beginning to brew in the pits of your tummy. “so, keep the shirt off, won’t you baby?”

you release the offending material as if it’s burnt your palms, thighs spreading instinctively as kirishima’s hand wanders between them to smooth your soft flesh. “yes..., yes katsuki...”

“that’s not what we say, is it babe?” kiri scolds, slapping your inner thigh while bakugou leaves a trail of sloppy kisses that stop just atop your breasts.

“...i mean...yes, sir.”

“atta fuckin’ girl.”

your breath hitches at the feeling of katsuki’s finger tips wrapping around the base of your throat, his touch is delicate and compares starkly with the roughness of his skin— calloused from hard work and use of his quirk. eyes roll to the back of your head at that very thought, the idea that your lover could hurt you in the most delicious of ways using his explosive nature but you have little time to dwell on the fantasy as your other boyfriend moved to hover above your face, ruby red hair tickling at your forehead while he slots his lips against your parted ones.

kirishima’s lips are soft and bitter with the taste of rum clinging to every ridge and imperfection in the skin there so you reach up and weave your fingers through dyed locks in order to bring him closer. meanwhile, bakugou makes quick work of your laced bra— tearing it down to expose your nipples to the cool air they harden under. his hot mouth encapsulates the bud, rolling it between rows of sharp edged teeth in away that has your back arching for more. the blonde ravishes your chest teeth and tongue, while his freehand works on groping your other breast— both of the fleshy mounds being shown equal amounts of attention in different ways, making you whimper wetly against kiri’s mouth.

saliva pools on your tongue, collecting between you and your lover while his own explores the cavern of your hot mouth. the pair of you watch one another with hooded eyes as kirishima pulls away, nothing but a string on your drool connecting you. you swear that every nerve in your body lights up at once just at the sight. “katsuki, you should see yn’s little face right now,” he breathes weightily against your raw lips, hand coming up the squish your cheeks together almost painfully. “we’ve barley even touched her and she’s already looking so fucking fucked out.”

“eiji...sir, please...” you gargle at the mocking lilt to kirishima’s voice and let your hand slip from his hair to cup his wrist as he pinches at your cheeks once more.

but this time, katsuki is the one who speaks to you— vermillion eyes clouded with dark lust when he looks up at you. he’d long moved past his brutal assault on your chest, already leaving a mass of sloppy kisses and bite marks down your abdomen until now, where his head was buried right underneath your little skirt. “the fuck you begging for, slut?” the blonde sneers at you so harshly that pathetic tears begin to pool in your eyes. eijirou is quick to wipe them away before they can hit your heated cheeks but you can tell from the look on his face he’s even more turned on by the sight. “well? i asked you a question.”

“she’s crying, katsuki.”

“don’t give a fuck if she cries or not, i’ll give her a real reason to in a minute.” and katsuki bakugou always lives up to his threats, shuffling back under your skirt to press his tongue flat against your soaked panties. he groans into the material, sending vibrations straight up to your clit before he pulls the sticky material away  from your heat. “god...kiri, she’s s’fuckin’ wet. here.” you writhe against the sheets, jolting as bakugou guides your partner’s free hand to your gummy cunt.

his thick digits press into your sensitive nub and gather your slick between their fingertips, both boys watch in awe and hunger as more of the viscous nectar seeps out of you at their actions. “you’re right, she’s soaked, aren’t you baby?”

you can only nod weakly before the boys pounce, kirishima sucking his fingers clean before they go right back to drawing shapes on your puffy clit. bakugou wastes no time either, pinning you down to the bed with on arm as he slides his pink tongue up you the length of your glistening slit. the two of your lovers work together to make a mess of you, between the blonde slurping at your lower lips likes it his last mean and the red head circling your pleasure button over and over— you have no room to breathe.

all you can do is take what you’re given, throwing your head back as your  high pitched moans mingle with the steady beat of the music out in the hall. your pushy gushes around katsuki’s tongue as he forces it deeper into your tightness, committing each ridge to memory and dirtying his face with more of your juices. eijirou alternates the pressure of his fingers from time to time, grinning brightly every time your face twitches with need or with pleasure. your boys are so good to you, even when they’re in control of your body they always make sure you’re feeling good. getting you off, gets them off.

the waves of ecstasy are rolling off your sweat licked skin, the heat of two bodies pressed against you sending the temperature of your own off of the charts, arching perfectly every time katsuki nips at your pulsing pussy just right or eijirou pinches your clit between finger and thumb. you can’t help but leak all over the place, sure that there’s a dark patch on your innocent little skirt, but it’s worth it for the way your boys make you feel, for they tongue laps over your hard pleasure button even with fingers drawing every shape under the sun on it.

you gasp for air as the knot in your stomach twists and the fire of passion burns a brighter shade in your lower tummy, you sit right on the fence of earth shattering pleasure when both boys rip themselves away from you. “w-why’d...why’d you stop?” you wail, tears threatening to spill once more as your high slips away from your grasp.

you make an attempt to rut your hips into bakugou’s face that sits merely inches away from your sopping cunt, but he only smacks your thigh and cuts his eyes. “we’re checking the time, seeing how long we have left to make you feel good, so quit your fuckin’ cryin, okay?”

sniffling and bucking your hips into the air, you agree silently— only comforted by kirishima when he returns from his phone to cup your cheeks again, pressing kisses to your heated face. he slides his fingers that had been dirtied past your lips in a silent command to suck them clean too. “only twelve minutes left until the new year baby, can you cum, before then?” the red head coos you softly, but you don’t have the chance to respond, for bakugou latches right onto your pussy again, tongue thrusting in and out of your fluttering hole and sliding over your puffy clit.

kirishima hums against your neck while you choke and heave, his lips dancing across the base to add lovebites much harsher than your other lover between your shaky legs. your body calls for release as you tangle your fingers in a forest of blonde, causing your boyfriend to groan and hook his arms around your thighs— sucking, biting and ravishing your poor little entrance at an animalistic pace.

you jerk as the same feeling from earlier begins to unwind in your tummy, hips rolling violently against katsuki’s face. “gonna, mmmph....gonna—“

“what baby? what are you gonna do? be a good girl and tell daddy so he can help you...” eijirou coaxes the whines out of you, nosing up your bruised and bitten skin to trace over your wide parted lips. his own hand moves to join yours in your boyfriend’s hair, pushing his head further into your embarrassingly desperate cunt— lewd and wet sounds filling the air while katsuki growls at the slightly painful feeling.

“cum! gonna cum!” stars start to appear behind your eyes, splashes of colour dancing along your vision much like the people outside your room as you squeal and the knot in your stomach finally unravels with your release. the more explosive one out of your pair of lovers gulps down every drop of your sweet, honeyed release as the after shocks of your orgasm dash through your veins.

you watch with hooded eyes as bakugou leans up from between your slick thighs to share the taste of you in a kiss with kirishima, their tongues slide together in the filthy exchange, riling one another up while their hands slip under their shirts that have suddenly become to tight. stripping the offending garments, both of your boys return to you in your blissed out state, eyes wide with a carnal desire to take you again. “you did so well, naughty little thing,” bakugou hums, voice raspy as he pulls you into his chest. his caramel skin is almost too hot to the touch but it’s all you can focus on while you lose the feeling of eijirou to your left. the sound of a belt clinking further off is faint, but you pay it no heed as the blonde before you lays back with you on top of him. “‘gonna give you our cocks now, ‘kay princess? gonna cum on our cocks while we fuck you into next year...”

suddenly, you become hyper aware of the cockhead that presses against your creamy clit and gently push your hips back against it, just to hear katsuki groan. his large and worn palms settle on your waist as he grinds back to meet your sticky pussy— the feeling making both your mouths fall open in low groans. “gimme your cocks, please,” is all you can say, mind far to hazy to form a proper sentence containing any word other than please. “want it now, can’t wait,” you can barely finish your sentence, too needy to think as you press your lips against bakugou’s for the first time that night, shivering at the taste of your release against his tongue. the kiss is sloppy, going nowhere in particular as you grind against each other and wait for kiri.

speaking of the red headed devil, he leans over the two of you, grabbing your jaw delicately to steal a kiss from you as his own length presses hotly against your backside. “can’t let you two have all the fun, can i?” your boyfriend chuckles breathlessly, slowly circling his hips into your ass, you have no idea how long the boys have been hard for but they waste no more time lifting your hips to align both of their thick cocks against your entrance.

bakugou soothes small circles into your lower back as the two of them press into you,  there’s a slight sting as your hole resists their intrusion— a burn that brings tears to your eyes with the attempt to double stuff you but you bite your lip and focus on the feeling of their leaking tips smearing precum along your velvet lined walls. a broken moan escapes you when they finally bottom out, thick and length girths buried balls deep inside of your throbbing heat and trapping them in.

you pulse around them as the boys wait for you to adjust, their hot breath tickling at your ears and neck. “yn,” katsuki groans, fidgeting beneath you while your nipples harden against his chest. “you’re s’fuckin tight, do we not fuck you enough? shit baby...”

“uhuh, need you ta move, ta fuck me open...please,” you slur, slumping between kirishima and bakugou— you can barely form words, mind too hazy at the thought of being so full of your boyfriends and their leaking, sloppy cocks. they love seeing you so useless between them, barley able to move except for the occasional jump in your hips to prompt them to move.

“so cute, let’s give the poor baby what she wants, yeah katsuki?”

nothing could prepare you for the sudden feeling of both your boyfriends’ thrusting into you at once. it’s a tight fit that has you jolting so far forward, bakugou has to grip your hips to keep you still while kirishima grunts into your neck, hushing his own means with every kiss he places against your skin. the red head places a weighted palm on the base of your spine, forcing your ass up into the air and setting the pace. your cunt spasms with the roughness, soaking their cocks in your honeyed nectar as they push into you, stretching your hole for all it’s worth.

the boys have had their way with you before, usually taking turns forcing their cocks down your throat and painting your tongue with the taste of salty cum or spreading your thighs wide and licking you clean— but the way they double stuff you has you losing your goddamn mind, bright red cockheads catching on every ridge of your gummy walls at every push and pull of their hips. the two aren’t doing any better than you, poor katsuki whimpers at the way you attempt to roll your hips back onto them— chest heaving as his own cock brushes against his lover’s inside of you.

the youngest of the two, eijirou can barely breathe, stuck on how your cunt flutters around them, sweaty chest moulding perfectly with your arched back and hands grabbing fistfuls of your cute fleshy ass. the room is filled with heavy pants and the scent kid your sex in he air, clear liquid seeping down from your twitching pussy onto your thighs and splashing against heir pelvises. “what a sticky fuckin’ mess, huh princess?” the ash blonde somehow manages to mock you, his hazy blood red eyes dancing with amusement as your own well up with tears and your mouth hangs open in a needy wail when when kirishima manages to plough directly into your gummy sweet spot. katsuki weakly grabs hold of your cheeks, and like earlier, forces them together while your babble nonsense about how good it feels. he taps your cheeks a few times, almost as if he’s trying to rouse you from your fucked out state and smirks with pride when all you can do is cry some more. “oh shit, ei, we’ve fucked her dumb.”

his evil laugh rings out into the electric air, mingling with the grunts of your red headed lover and the should of skin slapping on skin. it’s so wet, so dirty and you should feel nasty for how their cocks cream warmly inside of you. the hand that rests of your back ( also belonging to ejirou ) slides up to the back of your neck, tugging you upwards while he chokes you out. “yeah baby? you turning into our dumb, brainless little bitch on new years? how pathetic.” the red haired boy utters hoarsely into your ear, nipping at it with sharpened teeth. the sudden gushing from your iron hot walls gives away how you feel about his degrading words, each one going straight to your core.

you find it in you to nod, arching your back and shivering when your lovers laugh at you, demean you for how much of a stupid slut you’re being when sandwiched between them. “feel so full...want more, fuck me more eiji, harder katsu...” you trip over each of your breathless words, falling into a throaty groan that comes from deep with. you want more, need more— and they give it to you. pumping into you at an eleven faster pace than before, the clapping of balls against your ass and count filling  your ears while the lively music begins to pump outside. ten boys live for his, taking you at a moment where anyone could walk in and see you stretched over their dribbling girths, the thrill drives them insane, drives you to sinful pleasures from worlds away.

“that’s our dumb little bitch, beg for more.” katsuki growls proudly, hand dropping between your entangled bodies to draw searing patterns into your clit— you’d scowl at him for activating his quirk every time his digits sparked over the puffy nub, but you were too far gone to care.

“keep rubbin one out on her bakugou— she clenches down so fucking hard when you do that.” kirishima sighs, hips beginning to stutter.

even the boys are joining you on cloud nine, eijirou tilting your head to get a good look at your face while you bounce back on their hardened lengths. bakugou and kirishima groan in unison at the sight of your lewd expression, eyes rolling back, tongue lolling out of your mouth while drool and tears smear across your mascara stained cheeks. what a fucking mess you are, body flushed and skirt stained, what a fucking mess they’ve made you— a weak and pathetic baby girl who shivers and writes each time a fat cock brushes up against your g-spot. broken laments slip from between your bruised lips as the two of your lovers angle their hips just right, prodding your pleasure spot over and over— and when both boys sneak hands down to press on your tummy bulge, you almost see stars.

your nails dig deeply into the pecks of the blonde beneath you, heart jumping as he lets out a broken howl of pleasure mixed with pain. the faint sound of a count down slips in from behind the closed door and you feel as if it’s a clock ticking towards your organs. desire flares up inside of you as you push and grind against your lover’s to chase your own release. “i’m so close, so so close... gonna cum, don’t stop. please don’t stop!” you chant, screwing your eyes shut while the boys give it their all.

three. the crowd cheers from outside.

“you cum when we say so, you cum on these fat cocks, okay honey? that’s right, that’s fucking right...” bakugou snarls, his own eyes crossing with the immense pleasure he feels from your welcoming heat. you nod feverishly and seek out his hand to hold.

two. drunken shouts spill into the halls, excitement crackling in the air.

their hips stutter, kirshima barley holding on as he works all three of you towards that final hurdle, kissing your cheek softly. “oh shit baby, the way you’re clamping around us...god, you’re gonna make me lose it. you can do it, you can cum for us...”

one. happy new year!

“holy fucking shit!”

“oh, fuck...yeah, yeah...”

colours, like fireworks, burst behind your eyes in flashes as the ecstasy that’s built up within you is finally released. your juices splash against the hips of bakugou and the pelvis of kirishima, painting them with your sweetness and making their skin shine under the yellow artificial light. they follow not long after as you tremble between their bodies; two loads of thick, hot cum spray your insides and cost it white— the potent milky liquid reaching as far as your womb, yet most of it leaking out of your velvet walls.

eijirou collapses to your side on the soiled sheets, watching with awe as a mix of all of your arousals seep out of your abused hole. you squirm in the elder’s  grasp as the red head’s fingers delicately scoop up some of the sticky mess and bring it to his mouth. a satisfied hum leaves his lips as he sucks bus own digits clean, blinking at both you and katsuki sleepily. “happy new year, guys, i love you.”

“yeah yeah, love you both too,” bakugou rolls his eyes but holds an arm out for the younger male to roll into, hugging you both to the blonde’s chest. despite his his gruff and harsh voice, you can still see the traces of adoration on his face. he loves you both so much and wouldn’t dare change this night for the world. “happy new year, ya horny little bastards.”

completely blissed out and too tired to scold him for sounding so mean, however, you lean forward and press a soft kiss to the younger’s nose before sneaking one to the grump in which you lie on. “i love you guys so much, you nasty boys.”

the three of stay curled up for a while after that, as the party outside bursts with hopefulness for the new year. it seems as though you’re all going to fall asleep when the door bursts open to reveal a certain tipsy group of friends.

“so this is what you guys were doing instead of celebrating the countdown with us,”  mina chimes, hanging off of sero’s back as she peeks her head through the doorway. you squeal and make a dive for the blankets, hiding your naked body from the view of your lovers’ prying friends.

bakugou’s roommate huffs triumphantly while izuku, todoroki and momo fail to hold back their laughter. “told you she was gonna get laid.”

kirishima flushes red as his hair and makes an attempt to join you in hiding under the sheets while your explosive boyfriend jumps out of the bed in full naked glory, activating his quirk to threaten his friends. “i’m gonna count to three, and all of you better start fucking running before i kick your asses for bursting in on us.”

“but i thought we already had a countdown...y’know for the new year,”denki dumbly comments. “don’t be silly baku bro!” but he doesn’t have much time to dwell on his thought for your angry boyfriend is already chasing him down the hall, explosions sparking at his sides.

it’s the first day of the new year and denki kaminari is already going to die at the hands of abutt naked katsuki bakugou.

happy fucking new year indeed.

[pyroclastic727]

Is Amity autistic?

In the Owl House fandom, we hear a lot about how Luz is written to be ADHD. Now I would like to present the flipside: Amity is coded as autistic.

Here’s the breakdown.

Amity is touch-averse. “BuT aMiTy ToUcHeS LuZ aLL tHe TiMe” nice try. The key to autistic touch-aversion is only being okay with touch when she initiates it. And that totally matches up with Amity. See, Amity is really happy when she initiates touch with Luz. She’s also cool with it when Luz holds her hand after standing near her for enough time that Amity can predict an incoming touch. That’s because Amity consents to that touch and expects it.

But when other people touch her? She doesn’t take kindly to that. When Luz initially bumped into her at Covention, she snapped at her and degraded her. Even when she bumped into Luz in Enchanting Grom Fright, her initial instinct was to snap at Luz, since she didn’t expect to be touched. When Hooty touched Amity’s face without consent, she flipped out and beat him up. Not even Lilith beat Hooty up when he wrapped her up in his mucus-filled tube, but Amity gave Hooty the injuries we all wanted to see him with, because he breached her boundaries without her consent. Even as late as the last episode, Amity fell over when her face got close to Luz’s on the bleachers, because she didn’t expect it.

Amity stims. Okay, this one took me a while to catch, since most of the time, Amity is very controlled with her actions. This symptom isn’t very intense; her senses aren’t understimulated too often, and she really only does it when she’s really excited.

Mainly, when Luz offered to carry her. While she adorably scrambled for words, she also flapped her hands against her legs. At first I thought it was just a cute thing she did, but there’s more to it. She was so excited to be held by Luz that it showed up in her hands flapping...a common stim. With Amity feeling more comfortable around her new friends than the old ones, I wouldn’t be surprised to see more stimming in the future.

Amity always has The Mask as her expression. You know, the one with her eyes half-lidded, eyebrows raised, mouth slightly downturned. I also call it the Resting Blight Face, for...reasons.

At first I thought it was just a way to hide her true emotions, since her parents are assholes. But even though Luz makes her feel accepted, she keeps doing it. It’s more like...you know that feeling when you’re thinking really hard, or uncomfortable, or ashamed, or even just relaxed, and you can’t think of which expression to wear quickly enough, so you put on an unreadable one to tide people over? Apparently most people don’t do that, since allistic people tend to have expressions for those feelings, ones that arise naturally.

Another symptom of autism is having hard-to-read expressions, or being less expressive. In Amity’s case, it’s the fact that she doesn’t see a need to have an expression in calmer moments, so she just uses her usual expression.   

Amity hyperfixates. This has several facets, so I’ll break this down.

She initially hyperfixated on school. And that’s how she became top student. Amity Blight is who you would mistake for a “gifted student.” But make no mistake...she is not gifted, and gifted is a bullshit label used to overexert people and force them to keep school as their special interest for their entire lives (and I may have a bit of a vendetta against it). Anyways, we already know she’s a perfectionist. My theory is that Amity originally was hyperfocused on school--the Abominations track, to be exact--and that’s part of how she got so good. Then, her focus shifted, but the school expected her to keep being top student. Cue the perfectionism; she was no longer able to focus on school like she wanted to, but everyone expected her to, so she got insecure about it.

She hyperfixates on Azura, just like Luz did. Yeah, she keeps it secret from the world, for most of the time. But she definitely likes Azura a lot. I mean, she started to reconsider her opinion on Luz when Luz offered her an Azura book. She destroyed her jock career because she tried to use an Azura move in real-life Grudgby. Her interest in Azura is long-lived, starting about the time that her interest in school would have expired (which would explain why she stayed closeted). And we can’t ignore the fact that she sees Azura in Luz and is definitely enjoying the parallels between herself and her fictional counterpart. (Which might not be a coincidence, but that’s an entirely different theory).

She hyperfixates on Luz. Yes, part of this is a crush. But a lot of us have watched Amity’s personality go from alpha bitch to cutest little bean in the Boiling Isles, all thanks to Luz’s influence. Lumity is not a rivals-to-lovers speedrun due to bad writing, it’s due to Amity hyperfixating. She’s already extremely introspective, going so far as to keep a diary where she analyzes and makes sense of herself. It’s not a stretch to say that she identified the faults that kept her from Luz and worked hard to change those off-screen. 

Amity keeps a journal. To me, this seems like masking. You see, Amity is what people would consider to be high-functioning, since she can pass for allistic. But in order to do this, she has to put in significant effort on her part. See, when she does something that makes it so she doesn’t pass, she just sees it as a problem (since she probably doesn’t know about autism, and she passes well enough that she would totally be undiagnosed). Then she tries to fix the problem, in order to keep being perfect. 

Amity has awkward body language. Thanks to the journal and other ways of masking, you don’t see this early on. But once she feels comfortable enough around Luz to let her guard down...she completely forgets boundaries. To review: in episodes 15-17, she throws herself at Luz, holds her formal rival’s hand for 24.71 seconds, blushes every time she sees Luz, and loudly declares her thirsty thoughts about Luz in uniform before literally running away. While some of this can be seen as normal gal pal things or crush things...you’d think a repressed wlw like Amity would try very hard not to touch Luz, so as to avoid being outed. Or at least she would do less of that stuff, so as to respect Luz’s boundaries the way she wants her boundaries to be respected. But that’s not the case, since she straight-up misses a lot of social cues. And since she feels comfortable around Luz, she doesn’t feel the pressure to be so paranoid about the cues, and can be her awkward self. From her point of view, she probably sees it as being freed from her parents’ judgment.

Amity takes things literally, sometimes. Now, this doesn’t happen all the time, since she isn’t heavily affected by this autistic trait. But when Luz says “I’m picking up what you’re putting down” and Amity says “I’m not putting down anything” and looks down...she not only missed the conclusion Luz drew from her words, but also assumed a literal meaning from her words. I can’t come up with many other instances of this, mostly because this doesn’t happen often. I would assume that Amity missed these a lot early on, and learned how to mask/identify them.

Amity is easily upset when things don’t go as planned. Let’s review these. In the library, she gets really mad at Luz when they end up stitched to a book, and it takes Luz’s sweet personality to get Amity to loosen up and laugh over it. When she goes to practice magic, and Luz steals her wand and uses it to get her siblings kidnapped, Amity locks Luz in a cage and assumes that she will get badly injured if she tries to fix the problems she caused. When Luz comes to her school, she panics and focus on how that doesn’t change anything. When she burns Willow’s mind, she appears absolutely terrified of being punished, flinching and bracing for impact when Luz finds her near the memories, constantly trying to distract Luz as they work together to save Willow, and hiding behind Luz when she confronts the Inner Willow. When Luz asks her to join her in Grudgby, Amity doesn’t initially agree, instead taking much more of the episode to come to terms with her involvement in it.

Amity likes predictability. She’s not attached to routines, but she does like being able to expect things. If she makes a plan for the day, she expects that day to adhere to that plan, and she doesn’t respond well when it changes. When Luz comes to her school, she focus on how that doesn’t change anything...not how that would ruin things or complicate things. Whenever she gets involved in Luz’s shenanigans, she either gets angry, scared, or takes a while to accept it. In a broader sense, she takes a while to accept that Luz and her shenanigans are a permanent fixture in her life--sixteen episodes, to be exact.

Finally, it would make for some excellent representation. An ADHD Dominican-American bisexual protagonist is pretty groundbreaking. But an ADHD Dominican-American bisexual protagonist girl who dates an autistic wlw witch girl from another dimension is exactly the kind of intersectional representation you’d expect to see from an unrestricted Owl House crew.

...Now, this might just be me hardcore projecting. I’m a little scared to post this because I don’t know how much of this is me reading into imaginary things, or trying to convince myself that Amity is like me. Feel free to debate/disprove me or support me in the comments. 

[mrworldwideshoulders]

The Way You Look Tonight || reader x KNJ

Pairing: reader x KNJ Word count: 2.5k Rating: M / R Genre: married life au, maybe a little bit of angst, fluff, slice of life Summary: You’re feeling self-conscious about the way you look after years of being married and having kids, so your husband takes it upon himself to reassure you that you’re still the most beautiful woman in his life. Inspired by Just The Way You Are - Bruno Mars (among many similar others). Warnings: don’t get squarshed by the large quantities of fluff; also strong language, discussion of the postpartum body. T/N: aegiya = a Korean term of endearment meaning baby.  A/N: I am truly so soft for husband Joon fluff T_T I could write these married life aus alllll day for real. once again beta’d and bannered by my best pal @onmypillow-onmytable :D hope you enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! ly - robyn P.S. As always I do not own BTS or their likenesses, nor do I own the music of Bruno Mars, lol, they simply inspire me.

inspo playlist here

You stare at yourself in the mirror, sucking your bottom lip in and out. You can’t quite put your finger on why, but this dress doesn’t look right, not even with your doughy stomach crammed into the shaper underneath. Neither did the last one. Or the one before that. Or the first one you tried on, about six dresses ago. Who knew every single cocktail dress you owned looked awful on you? Or that every little black dress in your closet was suddenly so…little? You’re practically falling out of all of them. It’s almost indecent how much cleavage is showing with this one, especially since it’s strapless. You’d forgotten how small they’d used to be before you had kids. This one is tight everywhere else too - really tight - but not so tight that it’s unbearable. It’s not so bad…but it’s just not right. You feel overexposed, like it barely covers anything.

The corners of your eyes prickle and you let out a sigh of frustration. Right. It's probably because you haven’t gone shopping for dresses since before you got pregnant - for the first time. You curse yourself silently for not making time to go shopping before today, but Namjoon had only sprung this cocktail party on you a week in advance, and you had meant to, but there had been one thing or another that had kept you from going, what with being the stay-at-home mom of a four and two year old. Junseok had started on his “getting into everything” phase, while Miyoung, of course, was in the midst of her terrible twos, which you’d barely survived with Junseok the first time around, and per her usual, Miyoung just had to one-up her brother by being even worse. You’d barely had a free moment to yourself since before you’d had kids, and that was probably the reason you hadn’t realized just how much you’d let yourself go in the last year or two. You almost don’t even recognize yourself. The woman in the mirror looks old, worn out, tired - nothing like you. You conclude that she’s not actually you, but a clone, and the younger, prettier version of yourself is out there somewhere, walking around and living her best life. If only that were true. 

You glance at the clock. 6:30. You’re supposed to be there by 7, and you haven’t even started your makeup yet, or done anything to your hair. Not that it would matter. Your hair doesn't hold a curl, never has, not even on your wedding day. And not even the thickest concealer could cover up the bags under your eyes, or make you look any less tired than you do now, without really caking it on. The eyeliner will probably get caught in the creases and smudge all over the place, and make you look like you’re still in your emo phase, the lipstick will probably either get on your teeth or wear off, and what the hell, what’s the point anymore? You might as well just not go anywhere when you look this bad. No use in embarrassing the both of you, especially not in front of your husband’s colleagues, and the tenure committee, and whoever else has to lay eyes on you at this thing. 

There’s a knock on the door, and you jump at the sudden noise. “Y/n?” It’s Namjoon. “The sitter’s here. Are you going to be ready soon? We should really get going.”

You hesitate, staring at the unattractive stranger in the mirror, and reply, “Um…I think maybe you should just go without me.” 

“What?” he says through the door. “Why would I go without you?” 

“No reason,” you say. “I, um, just don't feel good all of a sudden."

"Huh?" He sounds confused. "You were fine just a little while ago. Are you sick? What can I do? Do you need anything?"

A time machine, you think, biting the inside of your cheek, so I can go back to when I was pretty. And worthy of being seen in public. "No," you say. "I'm fine. Just go without me, okay?” 

"Well, if you're not going then I'm not going either," he says. "It's just a dumb cocktail party. There will be plenty of others. And I shouldn't be going anywhere if you're sick, either. What about the kids? Who’ll take care of you?"

Damn your husband for being so thoughtful. That man has been worrying about you since you started dating, more than you ever even worried about yourself. "I'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself, Joonie. What do you think I did before I met you? The sitter can watch the kids. This is a big deal; I know how much you want this. You should go. Schmooze. Impress the tenure committee with all those impressive accomplishments of yours." 

"I don’t want to schmooze, not without you. I'm terrible at this kind of thing. I need you there to keep me from putting my foot in my mouth. I mean, we used to go to parties all the time. What’s different about this one?" Namjoon pauses. You picture him outside the door, big brain at work, trying to figure out what's going on. "Aegiya…is something wrong?" 

"Try everything," you say under your breath. "Nothing's wrong," you add aloud. "I don't feel well. End of story."

"You're acting weird," he says. "I'm coming in." He lets himself into the room before you can grab your bathrobe to cover up, and stops cold when he sees you, standing there, in that stupid strapless dress, jaw falling open. “Y/n…wow. You look…hot. Have I ever told you how much I love you in all black? All white is one thing, but…damn. It really suits you.”

Maybe it's the fact that you've been trying on dresses for the past hour or so with no luck, or the fact that you haven't eaten enough today, or that the exertion of wrangling yourself in and out of all of these dresses has left you overheated and sweaty, but a feeling of anger bubbles up in your chest. “You gotta be kidding me,” you snap and stomp into the bathroom, slamming the door behind you. “'Hot?' Are you serious? That’s not fucking funny, Namjoon.” You lean against the counter, arms crossed, on the verge of tears. He has to be joking, you think. That’s ridiculous. No way in hell.  

“Wait, what did I do?” he says. “You’re upset…because I said you looked nice?" 

“Of course I’m upset, are you blind?” you practically shout. 

“No?” He chuckles uneasily. “I’m not blind. I wouldn’t have said it if it weren’t true.” A knock comes on the bathroom door. “Come on, y/n.” 

“No!” you snap. “Leave me alone. Just go without me. You’re going to be late.” You let yourself slide down to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest and burying your face in your arms. 

He knocks again. “I’m not leaving until you open the door and talk to me, y/n. Tell me what’s going on. Maybe I can help.” 

“You can’t help.” Tears start to form in the corners of your eyes. “You wouldn’t understand.” Of course he wouldn’t. He still looks the same as he did on the day you met him. It’s like he hasn’t aged at all. It’s not fair.

“Then explain it to me,” he says patiently. “I’m a quick study. Will you please come out? Or let me in? I don’t like talking to you through the door.” 

You don’t say anything. How do you explain this? “Okay,” you say, almost inaudibly. “I guess you can come in.” You look up as he opens the door, the visible concern on his face enough to turn the prickles in the corners of your eyes into full-fledged tears. Your face crumples, and before you know it, you’re sobbing.  

“Hey. Come here.” Namjoon sits down on the floor next to you and pulls you close, folding you into his warm embrace and letting your tears soak into the front of his charcoal-colored blazer. He presses a kiss to your forehead and touches your chin, coaxing you into looking at him. “Tell me, aegiya. What’s wrong?” 

“Everything. Nothing,” you say, hiccuping. “It’s stupid. Really.” 

“It can’t be nothing if it’s making you this upset,” he says. 

Of course he’s right. You draw in a shaking breath. “Nothing looks right on me!” you wail. “I went through my whole closet before I got to this dress, and I still hate the way it looks. I hate the way everything looks, myself included. My boobs used to be a normal size, and everyone said they’d go back to normal once I stopped breastfeeding, but they haven’t, and they’re still huge, and they don’t fit anywhere, not to mention the stretch marks. Do you remember when I bought this dress?” 

“Not really,” he says. 

“Before I had Junseok, Joon. When I was still small, and pretty, and everything was the right size, and my stomach didn’t look like it had a watermelon crammed inside of it for nine months. There’s more stretch marks than skin, my arms are flabby, my face looks old and tired, my ass is huge, and nothing fits.” The words spill out, and you’re rambling, not sure if you’re making any sense. “I don’t recognize the person in the mirror anymore, and I hate it. I have this image of myself, and what I used to be and what I am now, and none of it lines up. I used to be pretty and now I’m just a fat, ugly mom, while you still look the same as you always have, and I don’t know how you’re even still attracted to me, if you are, because I’m definitely not much to look at anymore.” Tears run down your face, and you burrow further into his chest. 

He rubs a hand up and down your arm. “That’s what’s upsetting you so much?” 

You nod, sniffling.

“Well, I’m sorry you’re feeling that way, aegiya. You’re right, I can’t even begin to understand. But let me be the first to tell you that I’m not going anywhere.” He kisses you on the forehead. “It would make me a pretty terrible person and that much less of a man if I left you because I didn't like the way your body changed while you were having my children. Your body is amazing, y/n. That body grew and nurtured two little humans. It took care of them until they were ready to come into the world, and kept them fed and nourished once they did. I can’t do any of that. That body gave me two wonderful gifts I could only ever dream of reciprocating, and it hurts me to see you feeling like this.” He plants another kiss on your cheek. “I’ve never stopped being attracted to you, aegiya. Not once since the day I first laid eyes on you. I know you don’t think so so but you're still the same stunner I fell in love with back then. You're still the beautiful girl I married. You’re not a, what was it, ‘a fat, ugly mom?’ If anything, becoming a mother has only made you even prettier.”

"Bullshit," you mutter, scowling. “Motherhood has made me look like death warmed over, 24/7. I don’t know how you could love that.”

"Y/n, it's not bullshit." He touches his hand to your cheek. "I love every single thing about you. That goofy laugh you hate, the way your whole face crinkles when you smile, the way you sing to the kids when they’re sick, or they can’t sleep, even though you’re way off-key, and yes, each and every individual stretch mark on that beautiful body of yours. I love all of it. So if looks are what you’re worried about, then don’t, because you’re perfect, the way you look right now, and the way you looked yesterday, and the way you looked five years ago.” He wipes at the tears still on your cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “Does that make you feel any better?” 

“Well…no.” Your lower lip trembles. “You don’t really mean that, do you? You’re just saying that to make me feel better. There has to be at least one thing you’d change about me if you could, isn’t there? I know there’s a few things I’d like to change about you, if I had the chance. Your snoring, for one. I definitely don't love that."

“Maybe I would,” he says. “Maybe I wouldn’t. It wouldn’t change the way I feel about you. You’re the person I chose to share my life with. Which means I accept you for you, all of your perceived flaws and supposed blemishes. So no, I wouldn’t change a thing. Those are all the things that make you you. And you are special. To me, and to Miyoung, and Junseok, your friends, your family, and everyone else who has the privilege of having you in their life. You’re a beautiful woman and an amazing mother, and I’m proud to call you my wife.” He strokes your hair. “How about now? Better?”

“I guess so,” you say slowly, your head still resting against his chest. You listen to his heartbeat thumping. “What did I ever do to deserve a husband as kind and as patient as you? You know? How did I get so lucky?”

“You chose me, remember? And I chose you right back.” He smiles gently, wiping away the last few remaining tears. “We’re both pretty lucky, don't you think?” 

"The luckiest." You allow a tiny smile to creep onto your face. "I'm sorry for being so insecure." 

"You don't ever have to apologize for having feelings,” he says, giving you a squeeze. 

"Thank you.” You meet his gaze. “For listening. For being patient with me."

"I'll always be here to listen," he says. "No matter what. And life is a learning curve for all of us. Myself included."

"And thank you for not leaving me," you add.

"I'll never leave you, y/n. Not now, not ever. I promised you for better or for worse, and I plan on keeping that promise," he says. 

You reach up and tousle his hair, managing a teary smile. “Me too. I promise.” 

Namjoon tucks a loose strand of hair behind your ear. "Well, what do you say? Are you still not feeling up to coming out with me? I think we could still make it on time if we hurry, but we don’t have to go anywhere if you don’t want to." He looks at you, smiling tentatively. 

"No, I think I'm okay now. God, I'm probably a mess. All puffy and red." As you're rubbing your eyes, you notice the big wet spot on the front of Namjoon's jacket and part of the white shirt he’s wearing underneath. "Oh, damn. I ruined your jacket, didn't I? You’ll have to change."

"Don't even worry about it, aegiya." He pulls you in for a kiss, plush lips intertwining with yours. "I have plenty of other jackets. But I only have one wife, and she comes first. Always."

–––– 

©2022 by mrworldwideshoulders

[xf-grxmviridicn]

to CERENIA SOTEIRA, the whole world looks like an open page. With a leap of faith, their ability of CHLOROKINESIS grows a little stronger. They are a  WINGED HALF-LOP RABBIT shade aligned to HOUSE of FRASER. For  TWENTY-SEVEN years, they have survived a world of magic with their PERSEVERANCE and NAIVETE. They work as an UNEMPLOYED FOREST GIRL  but if they could change their fate, they’d want to ACHIEVE TRUE FREEDOM.

hello, hello! eva here finally with our resident forest girl who’s maybe ready for the big city life one day soon. her inspo includes the likes of the following, though by no means is this list exhaustive because i had a lot tbh: euphemia li britannia of code geass, persephone of mythology ( specifically the lore olympus variant, though ), yuna of ffx, kagome higurashi of inuyasha, starfire of teen titans, and of course, rapunzel of known fairytales.

&. ⸻ LINKS

doc | pinterest

&. ⸻ HEADCANONS

she loves the color pink. and glitter

bubbles are also pretty neat in her book

she is a strict vegetarian and would never dream of consuming her poor forest friends

she is also a pacifist in most regards, but it’s best to mind her temper, which can be quite the doozy if triggered

she was homeschooled all her life within the wildwoods and despite her vast knowledge of all things regarding the woods, knows absolutely nothing of the modern world save for whatever ( many ) books she’s researched through and various trinkets she’s picked up over the years that happen to scatter on the forest floor from careless humans. she’s collected these items faithfully and, like the hoarder she truly is ( similar to ariel of the little mermaid ), has her own trove dedicated to lost human things housed in her tower

she believes honesty is the best policy and can be fairly blunt when occasions call for it. it helps, of course, that she's also the world's worst liar

she's also a terrible baker, the absolute worst, but really enjoys sharing her creations with any who might feel brave enough to try them

she can be a total child and is spoiled as shit

she believes in the power of the written word

she can be superstitious and is rather skittish around strangers generally, but especially men. partly in response to her stepmother putting the absolute fear of god in her regarding most people, and especially men

she tends to stick to known paths where possible when wandering the woods, but her capacity to be easily lost and a little too curious for her own good tends to work poorly in her favor

she knows the importance of keeping up appearances per her stepmother and homeschool tutors, but always has a tendency to attract flower petals and various bits of nature in her hair and clothes

despite knowing the safety it offers, the idea of being stuck in the woods and locked away forever completely terrifies her, specifically because of all the little discoveries she’s made of the world beyond the border of the woods as the years have passed. that said, actually taking those steps beyond the border, despite all her talk of wanting to see more, also terrifies her

she is proficient with strategy and card games, and is quite the seamstress, to boot. all her little forest pals have their own signature looks thanks to her efforts

puppets and clowns are among her biggest fears. there’s just something unnatural about them

she loves sketching any and all things and enjoys painting in general, having quite the talent for it. more so when using her fingers, but she knows her stepmother abhors this habit of hers, given how messy and unsophisticated it can seem

puns and riddles are an absolutely delight and she's certain you're wrong if you say otherwise

flower crowns and herbal remedies are her love language

&. ⸻ DREAMSHADE FORMS

see here + here for ideas on her base form, a winged half-lop rabbit with red eyes

see here for an idea on her hollow form, a winged wererabbit with red eyes

&. ⸻ TREASURED POSSESSIONS

her father: her enchanted dancer jewelry box. displays imagery of her parents among other wraith-like figures when the music plays

her birth mother: her emerald necklace and the accompanying cursed dagger that expands into a glaive-like weapon of death when fully activated

her stepmother: her cloak of imperceptibility, for her use only

her sister: her wrist crossbow with enchanted bolts that serve to trap or stun opponents

erasmus: her stuffed deer named persie, who’s she had since childhood and refuses to get rid of entirely despite its obvious wear and tear

lady of the wildwoods: her tome of beasts, a grimoire gifted to atone for past actions

&. ⸻ FAMILY

VISCOUNTESS NORA SOTEIRA: her mother, nora, was a spirit warrior, blessed with the capacity to manipulate poisonous plants and utilize them effectively against her many enemies. she would align with dreamshade and her soon-to-be husband in a truce, well before such unions were considered common, in their efforts to stave off the wickedness of the present world. nora would be appointed a viscountess following her service to the crown and community in troubled times and as such, her sole offspring cerenia would be addressed in similar fashion. the woman would see her supposed end after a group of rather skilled hunters sought her out and followed in nora's footsteps, targeting her daughter among other creatures of the woods for a quick payday, a massacre in their wake. word would soon reach the lady of the wildwoods regarding nora’s residence there and the events that transpired because of her carelessness. she would be forced into a monstrous state by said lady and in turn, nora would also curse the female line of her family to a supposed mortal fate in her twisted state. among cerenia’s goals is saving the life the woman once knew and curing her family of their cursed state. ( inspo: catelyn stark of game of thrones, demeter of myth )

SIR ZED SOTEIRA: her father, zed, is a dreamshade also of the rabbit variety. a fair share of his compatriots were actually followers of the dragon priesthood and it is through them, among others, he learned to respect and honor those he's hunted and gained the talents he now possesses. a burly, stoic man who’s known to get around, shall we say, he actually had another family before his current one. he would leave them for nora sometime later due to his great love for her, and he's still not certain if he holds much in the way of shame for his actions. because of said actions, however, cerenia has a number of half-siblings she's come to know over the years, including her favorite sister artemesia. zed at one point or another, was also a fierce dragon tamer, serving as a former member of the royal guard and later knighted for his service. in the years to follow the birth of cerenia, he’s since become something of a hermit, settling into his role as a fisherman well enough and minding his little corner of the woods with great vigilance for his family's sake. particularly following the ‘loss’ of his second wife. ( inspo: sig curtis of fullmetal alchemist, zeus of myth )

HELEN SOTEIRA: her stepmother, helen, would come into cerenia’s life the same day her birth mother fell, offering protection and sanctuary in a moment of utter crisis. cerenia would have no clue the woman in question was partly responsible for the mess that came of the day and they would part ways for a number of years, until the familiar face would make itself known again as the soon-to-be new wife of her father. the woman’s protectiveness is unmatched, surpassing even cerenia’s sister due to the severity in which it’s doled out. and while cera is perfectly aware that it comes from a place of love, she’s also attuned to the fact that it mostly derives from a deep pit of fear that tends to swallow whole any sensible reasoning. the woman’s life before coming into her own is unknown to cera, but she treasures her all the same and respects the majority of her wishes — with some noted exceptions here and there.

ARTEMESIA SOTEIRA: her sister is the only other female in cera’s family aside from helen at present, serving as her elder half-sister, a partner in crime, and a primary guard in and, when the time might come, out of the forest. the woman does her darndest to look out for her cerenia at every possible turn and is almost on equal footing with helen and zed regarding how protective she can be. misa is the person cera turns to most and holds the greatest respect for at present, and not just for her physical strength as impressive as that may — but for her strength of character as such things surely matter far greater to young cerenia. alongside helen, misa is known for her insufferable stance against most, if not all men, which cera sometimes struggles to understand, and she takes a fair bit to warm up to anyone — including family. cera appreciates all her sister does for her, however, even if she doesn’t say this as much as she probably should and has a tendency to tease her mercilessly on occasion.

alongside these four, she also has eight older and two younger brothers of varying ages from either side of the family.

&. ⸻ WANTED

fellow forest friends

those with an interest in helping her complete her goal and specifically, those with an interest in researching curses and old knowledge, to aid in her use of the grimoire

city folks to show her around — once that time comes

people who absolutely cannot stand her ignorance of the modern world and all it entails or just can't stand her in general

honestly, any and everything

[capsgrl]

Personal Angel

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Word Count: 7,903

Summary: Bucky Barnes joins the Avengers and finds himself drawn to the teams healer, but she’s keeping a secret. Will she finally heal him of the pain he experienced at the hands of Hydra.

Warnings: angst, blood, mentions of injury (only light detail), a couple of bad language words, let me know if I should add more.

Authors note: Please find 7k+ words of Bucky needing a hug and being the soft soldier he is. Reader is a healer and younger sibling of the Maximoff twins. Set after the events of Civil War except everyone loves each other and lives in harmony, nobody goes on the run. *breaks indicate change of POV*

Also posted on ao3

Growing up in Sokovia in a time of war was no picnic, but no matter how hard things were at times your parents gave you and your older twin siblings, Wanda and Pietro, the happiest childhood they possibly could. Until they couldn’t. Until tragedy struck and they were taken away from their three young children by a man named Stark.

Being the youngest, you looked up to the twins to guide you. They were your only family now and you’d follow them anywhere. So you did, you followed straight to Hydra and experiments in a science lab. There was never any doubt in your mind, wherever your family were, that’s where you belonged.

You were given the power of healing. With the help of the mind stone you were able to heal wounds and take the pain away from the injured. The first time you demonstrated your new powers to your handlers, the whole lab rejoiced. With your help, they now had an infallible army. The whole thing didn’t sit right with you, but your siblings assured you that it was a means to an end. Stark needed to pay for what he had taken from you.

It took a lot of practice for you to hone your skills. At first you couldn’t control them, and any time you touched someone, even accidentally, you would heal. The trouble with this was in order to heal them you absorbed their pain. It was only for a brief moment, but it was concentrated like a short, sharp burst. It was intense and it drained you, but eventually you learned to control it, and only use it when you chose to.

When Wanda and Pietro took off to begin their revenge plan they took you with them, but kept you hidden, kept you safe. It was only when they realised the true nature of the man, no robot, they were working for and switched to the side of good that they brought you out of the shadows and finally introduced you to the avengers. 

You went to Sokovia, helping to evacuate people and heal the injured. It was exhausting but these people were innocent and they deserved your help. You were so busy you didn’t have time for fear, but when Wanda stepped onto the bus, the look on her face scared you more than anything ever had. Something bad had happened it was clear as day. Your fears were confirmed when you looked behind her to Clint, a lifeless Pietro in his arms.

Your world had suddenly got a little smaller, three had become two and it hurt. But you knew that whatever you were feeling was nothing compared to the pain of your sister, losing her twin, a connection that you could never understand now severed, and you did the only thing you could do in that moment. You threw your arms around her and absorbed it all, the pain, the grief, everything. It was the last thing you remembered before collapsing to the floor.

The next time you opened your eyes you were staring at the ceiling of the Avengers compound. Your new home. Wanda had assured you that it was the best place for you both and you couldn’t deny you felt more peaceful here than anywhere you’d been since you lost your parents. 

You begged your sister not to reveal how your powers worked. Steve Rogers was a good man and wouldn’t want you to put yourself out for the team, but you wanted to help. She reluctantly agreed, on the condition that you promised not to reveal that you could heal emotional pain too. It always worried her that people would come to depend on you for their emotional needs, and the kind of affect it could have on your mental state. You readily agreed, and became an official Avenger, their resident healer, but your big sister also insisted you join her training with Steve and Natasha so you could learn to defend yourself.

The team continued to grow, until one day Steve introduced you to his latest recruit and best friend, Bucky Barnes. On the outside the man looked just like he did in the old photos you’d seen, just with slightly longer hair and a few more creases around his eyes. It was looking into his eyes that really gave away the changes. You could see a lifetime of pain and suffering in them, so much so that you knew no matter how similar he looked on the outside, he couldn’t be that same man on the inside.

You couldn’t imagine what it must be like for him to carry that pain around with him, and that thought alone spurred you on to do something that you’d not done since the day you comforted your grieving sister in Sokovia. You reached out your hand to shake his, and took just a little bit of that pain away.

B—-B

When Steve had asked him to come and stay with the team at the Avengers compound, Bucky was reluctant. After everything that happened in Berlin and with Tony he felt guilty. The Stark man had assured Steve that he understood that what happened to his parents was an act of The Winter Soldier and not Bucky, but he wasn’t ready to forgive yet.  He assured Steve that it was fine for the new team to take residence in the compound, and headed back to the home he shared with Pepper, vowing to return when the time was right.

Bucky was nervous when his pal had taken him to the common room to properly introduce him to the team members he’d fought beside and against at the airport, but they all seemed really understanding. Going round shaking hands with everyone, his eyes finally landed on you. Steve introduced you as Y/N, and as you took his hand and spoke a soft ‘nice to meet you’ he felt overcome with a warm, calm feeling. A feeling he’d not felt since he was a young man before the war. It was almost like peace. Being around you made him feel lighter.

He came to learn that you were a healer, coming down to the med bag whenever Dr Cho needed your help. He found he wasn’t surprised by that at all, there seemed to be an air of calm about you that was soothing, at least to him anyway, not that he would tell anyone that. He’d barely spoken to you since he’d arrived at the compound. That first time he met you, you excused yourself quickly after shaking his hand and scurried off to your room. He couldn’t really blame you, you were probably afraid of him and wouldn’t be the first person to feel that way. There was something about you that made Bucky want to get to know you, but he was still too fragile to try to forge new relationships, relying heavily on Steve when he needed company, but spending the majority of his time alone.

The first time Bucky saw you use your powers, he was mesmerised. Steve always insisted that the team headed straight to med bat after missions for a once over even if they felt fine, which is where he found himself after returning from a trickier than expected mission with Steve and Natasha. The sound of the door behind him opening caught his attention. 

“Hey Doc, what have we got today?”, you asked as you entered the room.

“Well, Miss Romanoff here took a bullet to the arm, no major damage has been done, and the bullet has been removed, but we could use some healing here if you don’t mind,” the Doctor said barely looking up from her clipboard.

“Of course. Hold still Nat,” you warned as you gently laid your hands over the injury site causing the Black Widow to wince. When you moved your hand away a moment later, Natasha’s arm looked as good as new. It was like witnessing a miracle.

The man was shaken out of his thoughts by your voice. “Want me to fix up that shiner you got there?”, you asked, pointing to the eye that was currently swollen to the point that it wasn’t fully open.

“Uh, no it’s OK, thank you though,” he uttered quietly “the serum will have this healed up in no time.” It was the truth, the serum healed him quickly just as it did Steve, although the throbbing in his head almost made him reconsider. But someone like him didn’t deserve to be on the receiving end of such magic, he felt that he deserved to feel ever ounce of pain, no matter how many times his best friend tried to assure him that he didn’t.

“Well you know where I am if you change your mind.” She offered, reaching out to gently touch his forearm, and once again he felt a feeling of tranquility wash over him. It was like the warmth was spreading from the point that their skin touched, all through his body. He couldn’t stop staring at her hand, that is until she pulled it away and all but sprinted out of the door.

B—-B

You jolted awake, taking a minute to examine your surroundings before realising you were definitely still in your bed, in your room at the compound. It was the middle of the night and the sound of someone screaming had woken you. You strained to listen, and you couldn’t be sure but the screams sounded awfully like they were coming from Bucky. It was probably a nightmare you reasoned, but you decided to go check anyway, just in case. You crept down the hallway towards the sound which was indeed coming from the room belonging to the man in question. Deciding you needed to see with your own eyes that it was just a dream and not something more sinister, you gently pushed the door open and peeked in.

The sight you were met with almost broke your heart. Bucky was thrashing around, tangled in the sheets, and even in the dark you could see the wrinkled set of his brow. The dim light creeping in from the hallway illuminated the sweat covering his face, neck and the part of his chest that was peeking out from the covers. It was amazing that he hadn’t woken himself up yet you mused, but another loud wail shook you out of your thoughts. Spurring into action before you could second guess yourself, you ran lightly to his side and reached out to brush the hair from his damp forehead, and resting your fingers there as gently as you could, you began to absorb the pain. 

He visibly started to calm, the sounds stopping almost immediately and limbs slowly relaxing. You were starting to feel weak and knew that you needed to leave soon before you passed out on the floor next to his bed. You weren’t sure how you’d explain that away in the morning. When you felt like you couldn’t take anymore you pulled your hand back and stumbled back to your room, flopping onto your bed and crying yourself to sleep. The relaxed look on his face the next morning only cemented your plan in your mind. You would do everything you could to ease the nightmares for this tortured solider. A brief moment of pain was nothing compared to a whole night of reliving the worst moments of your life.

After the first few nights of creeping into the former assassins room you had managed to detect some sort of a pattern, and adjusted your sleep schedule accordingly. You didn’t dare tell Wanda what you were doing. You knew she didn’t approve of you using your power to emotionally heal people, further supported by the lecture you got when you’d tried to take her grief after Pietro died. The red head would be absolutely furious with you. 

You were exhausted from the late night healing sessions and were worried people would start noticing the bags under your eyes. You’d not done this much emotional healing before but it was worth it to see how much more relaxed Bucky was looking, and you weren’t the only one to notice, judging by the conversation you were listening in on in the kitchen that morning.

“Hey bud, you’re looking really well rested lately, have the nightmares finally stopped?”, Steve asked as he grabbed a water from the fridge, cooling off from his morning work out. 

“No, I don’t think they ever will to be honest. But they feel different now, duller if that makes sense? I dunno, I can’t explain it, but they don’t seem to wake me up anymore. I’ve not slept this well in decades.” He chuckled in response, following the man out of the kitchen.

You hid your smile behind your coffee cup before taking a sip and turning back to your breakfast but you could feel your sister's eyes on you, staring a hole into the side of your head. 

“Can I help you?”, you asked with exaggerated sweetness like only an annoying little sister could. You didn’t dare look at her though.

“I know what you’re doing.” She stated matter of factly.

“Hey, we had a deal, no looking in my mind without my permission”, you hissed at her angrily.

“I didn’t. I’ve seen you go into his room at night. You’re either healing his pain or fucking him,” she said with a raised eyebrow before smirking and adding “although both can have the same relaxing affect”. 

“I am not fucking him and please keep your voice down”, you whisper shouted. You thought you were being careful and suddenly panicked that someone else might have seen. 

“Why Y/N? You don’t even really know him so why are you risking your own health to fix his?”, your sister asked gently. She didn’t seem angry, just confused. 

“I don’t know. I just couldn’t bear the amount of pain I saw in his eyes the first time we met. Everything that happened to him, a lifetime of pain. I wanted to take it away, he doesn’t deserve it. And I know it’s exhausting and it’s not good for me blah blah blah but I can’t help it. I can’t stop myself.” You finished your rant by slumping back in your chair in defeat, your eyes staring at the ceiling. 

Of all things you expected Wanda to say, or possibly even yell, the last thing you expected was a quiet “Does he know?”. You shook your head and she sat silent for a moment, contemplating before adding “maybe you should get to know him. You know, make friends. You might find you can help him without using your powers.”

B—-B

Bucky sat on the quinjet waiting to take off for the next mission and couldn’t help feeling nervous. He’d been sleeping so well at the compound lately, but this mission would mean staying away for a few days and he was worried about his nightmares coming back when he was possibly sharing a room with his team mates. The only thing giving him comfort this time was that Y/N was joining the team. Steve had asked you to accompany them as the mission was expected to last a few days, and Bucky couldn't stop himself from smiling when he heard the news. Despite the fact that he’d hardly got to know you yet, your presence relaxed him more than he could explain. 

He must have been staring at you this whole time because the sounds of Steve clearing his throat broke him out of his reverie. Bucky turned to look at his friend and was met with a knowing look. “Go talk to her,” he encouraged. But he wasn’t feeling brave enough for that, and he didn’t even know what he’d say, so he just rolled his eyes and got to work sharpening his knives.

The mission had been a hard one, they were going to infiltrate three suspected Hydra bases and take them down, and it affected Bucky much more than he would care to admit. It didn’t help that he'd slept so poorly in the little basic rooms they’d stopped at in between. He thought logically that he’d sleep better sharing a room with his best friend, having the comfort of another person there, not being alone, but he didn’t. The nightmares plagued him again, worse than they’d been in a long time. 

He was agitated, he just wanted to get back to the only place he seemed to be able to sleep, and maybe sleep for a week. He sat leaning forward, elbows leaning on his knees, leg bouncing up and down, and was surprised when you sat down next to him. 

“Wanna talk about it?”, you whispered. His head whipped around to you so fast he's surprised his neck didn’t break. You must have noticed the stunned look on his face, because you quickly added “sorry, I didn’t mean to overstep. I just uh, I figured that this particular mission might have been harder for you than usual. I’m sorry again.” You looked away then, and Bucky was worried you were going to leave. He liked it when you were nearby, so he blurted out the first thing that came into his head “It was”. You looked at him again, this time with sadder eyes. It felt like you were reading his mind, but he was sure you didn’t have that power. “I’m not ready to talk about it, I’m sorry, but thank you. For asking I mean. I appreciate it.”

“I understand. But if you do ever want to talk, about anything, I’m a great listener.” You reached out then, placing your hand in his bouncing knee to stop the movement and he felt it, that familiar warmth spreading from where you touched him, through his whole body, relaxing him. He couldn’t help the smile that stretched across his cheeks, it was like it was involuntary. He turned to look at you then, and you were smiling right back, a soft warm smile. You were so close that he could smell your shampoo and it was intoxicating. Your eyes fluttered slightly and he looked down at your lips. He didn’t even know you but he was suddenly overcome with the urge to kiss you. 

Unfortunately, the moment was broken by a voice that never failed to irritate the super soldier. “Quit making eyes with Y/N man. We need you up front.” 

“Coming Wilson,” he sighed as he turned and watched you all but run away. You slept the rest of the flight home. 

Once the jet landed, Bucky went straight to his room to shower and nap. Feeling much more human now, he ventured to the kitchen for food where he once again saw Sam.

“So you and Y/N huh,” he smirked, folding his arms and leaning back against the counter next to where Bucky was working on a sandwich. “Sorry if I interrupted a moment there. She’s a sweet girl though, I think she’d be good for you.”

Despite his usual irritation with the man, Bucky found that he was actually a really good person to talk to, his experience with social work meaning he often had useful advice. “I like her,” he admitted. “I can’t explain it, I just feel better when she’s around, but I don’t know how to talk to her. One minute I think she wants to talk and then she runs away from me. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong.”

“Well, you are an intense dude”, Sam laughed. “Seriously though, don’t put too much pressure on yourself. Just talk to her, keep it light, ‘hey how’s it going”, you know that sort of thing.” 

Bucky was about to respond when he heard someone call his name. He turned to see Wanda in the doorway, and he could feel his cheeks heat up at being caught talking about her sister. “We need to talk” she stated, in a tone that caused Sam to grab his food and scarper with a quiet good luck on his way out.

“Wanda, I’m not sure how much you heard but…” Bucky started, but was quickly cut off by the red heads raised hand. 

“There’s something you don’t know about Y/N. Healing physical injuries isn’t the only power she has, she can also take away emotional pain.”

Bucky was stunned and couldn’t seem to form a more comprehensive response than “wow, I didn’t know”.

“Nobody knows except me, so I’d appreciate it if you didn’t tell anyone. When she takes the emotional pain away, she absorbs it, and I don’t want her to become an emotional crutch for anyone, I’m afraid that it will affect her mental state negatively. I know the team would never intentionally hurt her, but I can’t risk it. You understand right?”

“Of course, I won’t tell a soul. But why are you telling me this, aren’t you worried I’ll do just that?” Bucky questioned.

“You already are, you just don’t know it”, Wanda quipped. “She’s been healing you. At night when she hears you having nightmares she comes in and takes the pain away. All it takes is a touch, and I suspect she might be doing it at other times too, although I couldn’t be sure”.

Suddenly everything makes sense now. Why he always felt better in your presence. He thought you were just a tactile person but all those gentle touches that warmed his heart were times you were healing him. You were the reason he was sleeping so soundly at night. 

“I swear I had no idea Wanda, you gotta believe me”, he pleaded. 

“I do, I think. But I just wanted you to know, because everytime she takes your pain away, she feels it. Only for a moment, but the worse the pain for the person, the more intensely she feels it. It’s really draining her, and I don’t want to begrudge you the comfort but she’s my sister and I’m worried”.

Bucky felt absolutely awful. He’d never want to inflict his pain on anyone else, even for a moment, especially not someone as good as you. Someone who helped him so selflessly. It was his cross to bear, he made his bed and he intended to lie in it. Cold and alone. “I won’t let her do it anymore”, he swore to Wanda before leaving her alone in the kitchen with his sandwich. He’d suddenly lost his appetite. 

B—-B

Things had been weird since your first mission, you could feel it. Bucky had been avoiding you like the plague, and you felt terrible. You’d wanted to get to know him, to try to be friends like Wanda suggested, but you’d gone about it the wrong way and clearly upset him. He’d even taken to locking his bedroom door at night preventing you from soothing his nightmares. You were sure he wasn’t sleeping again, but you’d not seen so much as a glimpse of him in weeks so couldn’t verify that. 

Why would he lock his door at night? The bedrooms were in a secure floor so there was no danger of intruders and FRIDAY would alert you all anyway. Then it struck you. Did he know? Had he found out that you’d be coming in his room at night to heal him? There’s no way he could know surely, unless someone had told him. Just then Wanda came into the common room and plopped herself down on the couch next to you, and you remembered how protective your big sister could be.

“I’ve not seen Bucky around recently, have you spoken to him at all?”, you asked nonchalantly. “Nope,” was all the answer you got. 

“You sure about that?”, you pressed, giving her your best sister stare down. The look on her face told you everything you needed to know. “Wanda! How could you? Jesus he must be so mad at me, no wonder he’s not speaking to me”, you shouted incredulously. 

“I’m sorry, but I was worried about what you were doing to yourself. You're my baby sister and I love you. If you wouldn’t listen to me I thought you might listen to him.”

“We’ll he’s not even speaking to me now so that was a big fail sis, well done,” you seethed. At that moment Steve and Sam walked in.

“Oh I wondered why tin man’s been so mopey lately, lovers quarrel?” Sam questioned teasingly. Steve elbowed him in the side lightly and pointed down the corridor. “He’s in the gym,” the soldier added by way of explanation. 

As soon as you reached the gym you could see how tired Bucky looked through the glass door. His eyes were dark and heavy, his eyebrows turned down and his hits weren’t landing on the punch bag with their usual impact. 

You stepped in quietly, then thought better of sneaking up on a super soldier and cleared your throat. “Hi Bucky, can we talk a minute?”

The man looked up and then tiredly gestured to the bench at the side of the room where his bag was sat. He sat down and started unwrapping his flesh hand. He was obviously waiting for you to speak first so you took a deep breath to steady yourself and started.

“Firstly, I just wanted to apologise. I know that Wanda told you about me, uh, you know…” you trailed off. God this was embarrassing. “I’m so sorry. I realise that was a total violation of your privacy and also really creepy, but I promise you it was coming from a good place. I was trying to help not, you know, be a peeping Tom or anything.” You blushed at that, remembered the times you’d seen his beautiful chiselled pecs, and those gorgeous biceps and powerful thighs whenever they poked out of the covers. He didn’t need to know about those thoughts.

He chuckled at that and you felt yourself relax slightly. “Trust me, that is one of the least creepy things that’s happened to me in my 100 odd years, doll. Apology accepted”.  You couldn’t help but chuckle back.

“Well thank you. I assume that's the reason you’ve been avoiding me?” You questioned nervously. When he shook his head your heart sank. Did you do something else? Then it hit you. “Of course me healing you without your consent is equally as weird, so again I apologise. I just wanted to help but I can see that I probably went about it all wrong.”

Bucky shook his head vehemently then. “God no, you think I’m mad at you? How could I be mad at you, you’ve got a heart of gold and you have helped me so much since Steve brought me here. Honestly, I don’t think I’d have felt so comfortable here if it hadn’t been for you. I could never understand why I always felt so at peace around a near stranger, but as soon as Wanda explained your powers to me it all made sense. But I would never want to hurt you Y/N, and the thought of you taking on just a fraction of this pain made me feel awful. You don’t deserve that and me avoiding you was just me trying to protect you.”

You were relieved at his confession. He wasn’t mad. You sighed and relaxed fully leaning back against the wall. “I promise you it’s not that bad.  Most of the time. It only lasts for a moment, and sometimes if it’s only mild pain I barely even feel it. Like when I heeled Steve’s bruised ribs on that overnight because he couldn’t sleep. I hardly even flinched,” you said bumping your shoulder with his. “But if you don’t want me to do it anymore, I promise I won’t.” 

“Don’t get me wrong, I appreciate what you’ve been doing for me. More than you could know. But I think it’s about time I tried to overcome these demons on my own.” You nodded at that. He had a point, you had become a crutch without him even knowing. You got up to leave when he grabbed your hand to stop you. “If I’m doing this, I think I’m gonna need a friend. What do ya say?” He asked, looking up at you with a hopeful grin. 

“I’d love to be your friend”, you replied. If you couldn’t help him with your power, offering moral support would be the next best thing. 

B—-B

The months after your talk in the gym had been the best in Bucky’s long life. You’d really started to relax around him, the conversations came easy, both when you were all with the team and if you were hanging out alone.

It was the times that you hung out alone he enjoyed the most. He could really be himself then, without worrying about knowing looks from Steve and Sam, or worrying whether Wanda was going to try and read his mind to find out his intentions with her sister. He wasn’t even sure he was ready to confront those feelings himself. He told himself that he just wanted to get to know you, but deep in his heart he knew that he was falling for you. 

You laughed together, he told you stories about life in the 30s and 40s, his family, a young pre-serum Steve, and anything else you wanted to know. In turn you taught him all about modern technology, helped him pick out some more modern day clothes and even took him to get a haircut. He couldn’t help but notice the way you stared for a little too long when he came out with his hair cropped shorter, before nodding that you liked it. 

The nightmares were back and almost as aggressive as before, but when he walked out into the kitchen one night to make himself a tea and found Y/N sat there waiting for him with one already made, he found himself opening up to you. He’d never tell you all the gory details that plagued his mind at night, but even revealing just a little bit of those late night visions and the feelings that followed, made him feel better. You never judged, just listened, and not even the thought that Sam was right about how he should talk about his feelings more could diminish that safe feeling he had with you. 

You’d even started touching him again, completely innocent touches like leaning your head on his shoulder, linking your hand through his arm when you were walking around town, but still sending a warmth through his body like you were healing him. And maybe you were healing him, he thought, just without using your powers. 

Steve and Sam had been bugging him for a while to ask you out properly, but for some reason today when they started their usual post run chorus of ‘when are you going to ask Y/N out’, he was feeling bold and said he’d do it today.

So that’s where he found himself an hour later, after showering, changing and pacing circles in his room to try and gain back some of the quickly waning courage. He knocked on your door and waited nervously. You answered and invited him in, and he mentally chastised himself for not bringing flowers. He was nervous, but decided to just suck it up and power through. 

“Hey doll, uh I just wanted to ask, see I’ve enjoyed hanging out with you these last few months, more than I’ve enjoyed anything in a really long time.” He was messing this up he knew it, and you were just stood there staring at him and not speaking. The young Bucky from the 40s who was charming and good with the ladies mentally kicked him to get on with it. He could do this. So he continued. “So I just wanted to know if you wanted to go to dinner with some time.” He finally let out a breath and tried to relax whilst he waited for your response.

“Like a date?”, you asked and you looked shocked and he panicked, thinking he’d got all the signs wrong and wondering how he could back track when you smiled and said “I’d love to go out for dinner with you, definitely as a date. I honestly thought you’d never ask, like ever.”

Bucky finally relaxed at that. You said yes, you wanted to go out with him. He didn’t think he could be any happier right now. “Good. Great! I’m going on a mission with Steve and Sam tomorrow so how’s Friday night?”

“Perfect”, you smiled and he honestly didn’t think he’d ever get over seeing you smile at him like that. He was head over heels.

“I wasn’t sure if you’d agree, so I didn’t actually come up with a plan. I’ll text you OK?” He assured you as he backed out the door, wanting to keep looking at you as long as he could. When he got through the doorway he stopped, still smiling like an idiot. You walked up to the door, stood up on your tip toes and kissed him on the cheek. “I can’t wait Buck”, you whispered as you stepped back and shut the door. 

B—-B

The short 2 day mission turned out to be the next big bad, and the three men had ended up having to radio in for back up. It was going to be all hands on deck, which meant that when the second quinjet arrived you were on it. Wanda had asked you to stay behind but you wanted to help, and especially wanted to be there in case a certain someone needed you. 

You were out in the field helping get innocent bystanders to safety and healing up the Avengers so they could get back into the fight. You could feel it taking a toll on your body, your steps becoming more slow and sluggish as time went on. After getting a young family to safety you turned to head back to the next victim needing help when you saw what appeared to be an axe flung in your direction. You froze, your brain tired from all the healing you’d done and not thinking fast enough. 

What you weren’t prepared for was the shove you felt at your side, sending you toppling to the ground. You scrambled up to see the sight of Bucky, laying on the ground at your feet, the weapon in question lodged firmly in his stomach. 

“No no no, Bucky what did you do?!” You screamed as you dropped to your knees to assess the damage. Steve and Wanda were at your side in an instant, the rest of the team continuing the fight around you. You felt panicked, terrified of the sight in front of you as the blood flowed out of the wound and over your hands at a steady rate. You knew exactly what you needed to do, and you needed to do it now before it was too late and the blood loss became too much.

Taking in a big breath you steeled yourself and started giving out orders. “Steve, I need you to remove the axe, and Wanda, you need to put up a shield to protect us from further damage while I heal him. Ok, on three guys, one…” but before you could count any further the man in question croaked out your name. “Doll please, it’s OK, just let me go. I’m old, it’s my time.” 

The fact that he would even suggest such a thing made you livid. “Bucky, how could you say that? You saved me, so now I’m going to save you and we don’t have time to argue this,” you shouted as your knees started to become damp with his blood. 

“C’mon Buck, let her do it. She does it all the time, no big deal right,” Steve encouraged, clapping you in the shoulder whilst you nodded your head in agreement.

Wanda rested her hand gently on your shoulder then, an action that you were sure was meant to soothe, but only irritated you as you knew exactly what was coming. “You’ve never healed a wound this severe before, you don’t know what it will do to you.” 

At Steve’s confused look your sister began a quick explanation on how your powers truly worked but you drowned the conversation out as Bucky weakly reached a hand up to your face. “Please Y/N,” he begged, “I don’t wanna hurt you, I love you. Just let me go.” But hearing those three words, from the man you loved, a man who was fading in front of you, just further cemented your decision in your mind. Looking at the Captain beside you, you whispered “Steve, please” and you knew you had him. He nodded grimly and on the count of three he lifted the axe, and you replaced it with your hands.

As you placed your hands over the oozing wound, you tried to concentrate everything you had into the prone man’s body, every ounce of love and every morsel of strength you had left in you. You sent a silent prayer up to heaven that you’d get to tell this man you loved him too and share your first kiss. You could feel your body weakening, and were vaguely aware that the steady flow over your hands seemed to be slowing, but you couldn’t hold it much longer, and you hoped it would be enough. Suddenly the overwhelming urge to sleep invaded your senses and you collapsed right there on top of Bucky’s chest.

You awoke to the sound of beeping. Your eyelids felt heavy and it took a few moments for you to blink them fully open, but when you finally did you were greeted by the sight of your older sister.

“Oh god, I’m so relieved you’re awake!” She cried brushing your hair off of your forehead in a motherly gesture. 

“Bucky,” you managed to croak out through your dry mouth. Wanda handed you a sip of water before answering. “He’s fine. He’s currently receiving blood to replace what he lost but you did it, you healed him. Dr Cho called it a miracle.” 

“Oh thank god,” you sighed “and the battle?” 

“We won,” your sister informed you “and you young lady are going to be fine. The doc ran extensive tests and seems to think that you just kind of passed out from the pain, and then went into a deep sleep from the shock. But it could have been much worse, you need to be more careful.”

“In this line of work?” You joked, causing her to roll eyes. “When can I get out of here?” 

At that moment, your Captain stepped into the room. “The doctor will be in to give you a once over in a moment, then you’re good to go,” he informed you. “I was just wondering if I could have a moment?” He asked tentatively. Your sister excused herself and left the two of you alone. 

Steve sat down in the now empty chair. He looked tired, and you guessed he must have been sat by Bucky’s side for a good while. You were glad he had someone there. 

“I wanted to thank you Y/N,” he started. “If you hadn’t been there, I would have lost my best friend all over again. The fact that it caused you so much hurt to heal him, well that is something I can never repay. I feel terrible for letting you do it, it was selfish of me.” He looked so guilty that it made you sad. 

“I was going to do it anyway Steve, whether you agreed or not. There’s just no way I could have sat there and let him go.” You could feel the tears welling in your eyes at the thought of things ending before they’d even really started.

You knew Steve understood, after everything he’d been through to get his friend back he knew exactly how you felt. “Well I’m extremely grateful for that stubborn streak of yours, but now that Wanda’s filled me in on all the facts surrounding your gift we’re going to have to have a conversation about some new work protocols,” the man scolded, his captain's voice firmly back. Clearly reading the sense of dread in your face he added, “but now we have more pressing matters. There’s someone down the hall that’s desperate to see you.”

B—-B

Bucky was fed up. He hated hospitals, he’d spent far too many years of his life being poked and prodded and he was done with it. He’d laid in this bed for 2 days waiting for you to wake up and he couldn’t help but replay the last time he saw you in his mind.

He was laying on the ground, a pain searing through his stomach, when suddenly he felt a familiar warmth. A warmth he hadn’t felt in a long time, spreading from the wound throughout his whole body. This time though, the feeling was different, it was more somehow. He’d never really believed in god, or any kind of divine being, not after everything that happened to him in the past. But that feeling, he could only imagine it was how it would feel to be touched by an angel. Suddenly the pain was gone but he could still feel a heavy weight on his chest. He looked down to discover the weight he was feeling was you.

Bile had risen in this throat when he realised what had happened. Y/N had healed him, hurting yourself in the process. Wanda was shaking you, trying to wake you. Steve was checking your pulse, assuring the redhead that it was still very much there. He lifted you off Bucky’s chest, and carried you quickly to the quinjet. Wanda helped the injured soldier up and to the jet too, where he sat next to you holding your hand until Steve landed back at the compound, the medics ready to greet you all straight from the ramp. 

Bucky hadn’t seen you since they’d whisked you away for testing. They’d taken him to a separate room where he was given blood to make up for what he’d lost on the battlefield. He kept asking if you were OK and if he could see you, but was told to stay put until they knew more. 

As he laid there with his eyes closed his thoughts were interrupted by footsteps, followed by Steve’s voice. “You have a visitor,” he announced simply. 

Bucky sighed, not feeling up for visitors at the moment. “If it’s bird brain again tell him I’m dead” he grouched. Not hearing the comeback he was expecting from his sharp tongued friend, he opened his eyes, and almost pinched himself to check if he was dreaming. 

“You’re awake, oh god doll are you ok?” He asked, trying to get out of bed and go to you, forgetting about his IV and the other wires connected to him. 

“Stay put,” you said rushing towards him, gently pushing him back into the bed. “I’m fine, just had a nice long sleep.”

“You scared the shit outta me. I told you to let me go. My life is not worth more than yours.” Suddenly aware that his fear could be mistaken for anger he softened his voice. “But thank you. I owe you everything.”

You just smiled back at him that beautiful smile he worried he’d never see again. “Actually, you just owe me a date.” You reached out your hand to hold his and he couldn’t resist placing a kiss in your knuckles. “As soon as I’m all fixed up and out of here, I’m all yours.” And he was. He knew now that he would only ever be yours for as long as you’d have him. 

You stayed and chatted with him a while longer, never letting go of his hand, but after a while he could see your eyes falling. “Go home doll, you need your rest,” he tried to encourage.

“I am tired but I just don’t want to go,” you pouted.

“Well, you could hop up here and take a nap next to me. It’s a small bed though we might have to snuggle real close”, he suggested with his most charming smile.

“Sounds perfect,” you smiled sleepily. You took off your shoes and climbed up in the bed next to him. He lifted the blanket for you to slip under, and you immediately rested your head on his shoulder, his arm wrapping around to hold you close. He thought you’d fallen asleep, and he laid there watching your steady breaths until you spoke again. “When I was healing you, all I could think about was the fact that I’d never told you I loved you and I’d never kissed you, and I knew that if I never saw you again it would be my biggest regret. So I’m telling you now. I love you.”

“I love you too,” he whispered before leaning down and capturing your lips in a kiss that he’d been dying for since he met you. Your lips were so soft, and your body felt so warm and so right pressed against him. The kiss started out slow and loving, Bucky pouring all the love he felt into it, but when you slipped your hand up to gently tug on the hair at the nape of his neck and deepening the kiss, things got a bit more heated. The sound you made when your tongues finally met was almost enough to make him lose control and he slid his hand down from where it was stroking your lower back over your hip and down to your thigh. He was just about to pull your leg up and over his so he could show you just how much you were affecting him when you were interrupted by an alarm. You pulled back, panic on your face and he couldn’t help but laugh. “You just got my heart racing,” he teased, nodding at the heart rate monitor that was slowly calming back down.

You laughed then and gently shoved his shoulder. You were now both lying on your sides facing each other. “Well, that’s one item ticked off the bucket list,” you quipped, before leaning forward and pressing a gentle kiss to the corner of his mouth. “To be continued,” you joked as you wiggled your eyebrows, “now let’s sleep.”

As you both snuggled back down in the tiny hospital bed, Bucky kissed the top of your hair and whispered quietly “goodnight angel.” He would never admit it to anyone but he’d missed the feeling of you healing him, the warm feeling that engulfed him when your power flowed through him was like nothing he’d ever felt before, he could understand why Wanda was concerned that people would come to rely on it too much.

But as you laid there asleep in his arms a different kind of warmth enveloped him, and as he slipped off into a restful sleep he realised that he didn’t need your powers to heal him, your love was enough, his personal angel. 

[kalee60]

Wondering if you have any thoughts about beefy bucky? And maybe any thoughts about any thoughts that Steve might have about beefy bucky? For a cheeky anon 👉👈

Hoo boy Cheeky Nonnie... Do I have some thots about this??

*ahem - clears throat as it's a little thick for some reason... err - yes, yes I do... Many in fact...

Just to clarify - you mean...

Or even...

I thought so...

Oh - Cheeky anon - you are speaking my language! So I had set out to tell you my thoughts about Beefy Bucky...but Steve came screaming into the room, panting and excited, a light shining in his eyes and suddenly it was all about him... maybe one day I’ll get my say...

This got away from me slightly - hope you enjoy Nonnie! 😘

~*~*~*~*~

Steve tried to not stare, tried to be respectful like his ma taught him, tried to be the responsible adult, hero that he was. He was the paragon for truth, the beacon of all that was good, but all that ran through his head as he looked at his best friend, his semi-recently unbrainwashed best friend, was Bucky’s large frame manhandling him to the bed and doing unspeakable acts on Steve’s body.

He was past caring what these acts might be, he’d be open to anything, try anything - not having had much experience due to time or inclination. But as he sat in the mission brief and watched Bucky playing with a pencil, unintentionally snapping it between his chunky fingers, looking around sheepishly in case someone told him off for breaking SHIELD property - Steve thought about those meaty fingers wrapped around a specific part of his anatomy. A part he knew couldn’t snap off (he’d tried when jerking off - not intentionally, but sometimes he twitched hard in the heat of the moment - and he had super strength after all).

From Steve’s vantage point, a few yards behind Bucky’s immensely broad shoulders, he found his breaths coming in quicker, wondering how it would feel to be picked up and slammed into a hard surface by Bucky, to have all that unrestrained strength pushing him - up against his body. Steve shivered, knowing that, yes, Tony and Thor and the others with the use of their powers or suits could pin Steve for a few seconds - but Bucky - he’d had a similar serum as Steve and it gave him thoughts. 

Would Bucky be at the same level of strength and power, were they evenly matched in every way? And if Steve begged on his knees staring up at Bucky - would Bucky relent and finally give him all he’d been dreaming about since he was sixteen?

Steve didn’t know. But he fantasised about it a lot.

Bucky had always been bigger than Steve, had always towered over him when they were kids, and Steve fit under the crook of Bucky’s arm, snug and nice, knowing that even before the serum, Bucky could have had his way and Steve would let him - even as feisty and independent as he was. But oh god, given half the chance, in a million different ways Steve would have let him.

But then the war happened, Steve had the serum and everything changed - he lost Bucky, had lost his better half, his true north, and that was when Steve lost hope. Until the Winter Soldier appeared - no, when Bucky appeared. Hope welled eternal in Steve for the first time in years, and to now have Bucky before him, it was a dream come true and he was scared to do anything to break the bubble that was surrounding them in case he scared Bucky off again.

So through hungry eyes, Steve watched Bucky closely, helped Bucky with the holes in his memory as best he could, ignored the lack of compassion that sometimes came through, and tried his best not to ogle Bucky’s new physique.

It was hard.

Extremely hard.

Because Bucky was built, he was wide, he was thick and it made Steve jittery inside.

He was unable to hide the most basic of reactions when they sparred, growing stiff the moment Bucky threw Steve over his shoulder like he weighed nothing to land on the mat roughly before straddling him, hand gently around his throat and a smirk on his face. And Steve had to scramble to the toilets for a moment alone - each and every time. Images of Bucky’s muscular thighs either side of his stomach fodder for a slew of fantasies and he only ever felt a little guilty when he came, hand shaking around his dick and Bucky’s name on his lips.

But it was undeniable that Bucky had changed - his quick smiles gone, humour buried away with only a glimpse here and there, but Steve knew Bucky, his Bucky was lurking somewhere in the depths, and Steve was slowly teasing him to the surface. So it would be completely unfair to foist his desires on his friend - a friend who'd never indicated that he liked Steve on a romantic level.

So Steve sat behind Bucky in the briefing, letting his mind wander, allowing his gaze to rake over the back of the too tight dark blue henley, Bucky’s shoulders taking up more space on the chair than Steve’s did - and he watched. 

Steve’s eyes traced the lines of Bucky’s wide stance as he moved in the chair, watching the toned muscles shift under the shirt and he couldn’t help lick his lips, only to look up and find Bucky stalled, stopped in his tracks staring over his shoulder at Steve with something deeply shadowed in his eyes. And Steve had been caught, caught staring like a man dying of thirst and Bucky the only person in the world that had a trickle of water left.

Standing up hastily, Steve fled - heading towards his room on the thirtieth floor, not knowing if the briefing was over or not, not really caring - he’d walked out of them before - it was only a safety meeting about new protocols that Steve himself had helped to create, but he couldn’t sit behind Bucky and stare at his bulk any longer. Bucky might have already realised where Steve’s thought’s had been, and he needed a moment to agonise over it.

He’d only just made it to his hallway, sprinting up the stairs as it was quicker than the elevator, when a huge solid hand grasped his arm, yanking to slam Steve up against the wall and suddenly two very intense blue/grey eyes were staring at him, pinched at the corners, questioning. Steve was no longer concerned about being called out - he was too busy sweating heavily at the sheer muscle Bucky was showcasing by pinning him to the wall, and he flexed, trying to move, but Bucky - oh fuck - Bucky had him. Steve would have to exert a lot of energy to break the hold, and his knees buckled.

Bucky grasped him, holding him upright as he sagged, “hey pal - you okay? What in the hell is going on?”

Steve managed to get his knees to lock long enough to hold his weight, and Bucky wide-eyed and concerned held him trapped. Held him aloft in his strong arms, his flesh one just as huge and muscular as his metal one.

“Yeah I’m alright,” Steve ground out. And he was, mostly - except for the tenting in his cargo pants, something that if Bucky stepped in less than an inch would feel pressed against him in all it’s post-serum glory. And Steve shouldn’t have thought that - what had it done to Bucky if the rest of him had grown so thick.

Bucky exhaled slowly, then looked up at the roof and Steve watched the sinews dance under the skin of Bucky’s neck, the wide hefty expanse of muscle that had to be at least twice the size as before. Steve wanted to lean forward, nip at the jutting Adam's apple, lick it, suckle it and have Bucky tense the muscles so that Steve could trace the hardness under his stiff tongue.

Words escaped him before Steve knew what was happening. “You’re so big.”

Immediately his face flamed because the words didn’t come out like a question, or a matter of fact statement - it was breathy, whispered with reverence, with a tone that couldn’t be disguised - Steve sounded horny for Bucky, and shame welled up.

Shutting his eyes, Steve shook his head, trying to get up the strength to break free of the large hands holding him, but Steve was learning he was a masochist under Bucky's control, Steve wanted it, no matter how he got it - all of that power and force bundled into the man he’d been in love with all of his life, it was too much.

“Open your eyes, Stevie.”

He was powerless not to, not when Bucky called him that.

Bucky’s long hair had fallen over one side of his face, and he peered at Steve, a small frown between his eyes as he worked something out in his head, Steve having seen that puzzled expression many times, usually directed at the coffee machine or at Sam, until suddenly like the dawning of a new day - his face went slack. 

He’d realised something, something big. And Bucky stepped forward, closer, the entire length of his body now against Steve, and although Steve was still a little taller than him, he felt as small as his teenage self while Bucky held him aloft using just his body, and it was only then that Steve realised what Bucky was pressed against and… oh…

What was now pressed against Steve in return.

“Buck…” he said brokenly.

“How long?”

“Errr…”

“How long, Steve?” The demand came with a tightening of hands on his biceps and Steve groaned at the pinch, the pressure, and Bucky threw his massive flesh arm across Steve’s collar bone instead, restraining him, and Steve just about came on the spot. It was too much, the sheer strength, the sheer size of Bucky was making him quake like a teenager with too many uncontrollable hormones.

“For as long as I can remember.”

“Jesus,” Bucky swore and let go, Steve slumping against the wall, and Bucky took one step away, Steve had ruined it - ruined everything.

“Well, are you coming or not?”

Steve looked up at the order in Bucky’s voice.

“Where?” he croaked.

“Your room, it’s closer - I’m going to nail you to your bed and make you scream Stevie Rogers - I have one vivid memory of before the war, and I know it was just a fantasy. And right now... right now I want to make it a reality.”

Bucky strode away, intent in each step and Steve watched the sway of his thick hips, the delectable peach-like ass he wanted to sink his hands and teeth into, and Steve stuck to the spot, couldn’t believe what was about to happen.

“I’m not going to ask twice.”

Steve jumped to attention, and had never ran so fast in his life.