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acupofinkedblood · 2 months ago

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Young B. Zuka x medic reader

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝 • War is ruthless, you know it better than anyone else. And certainly thing just seems to be worse when it involves ‘Blackrock’ and ‘bloodshed’ in the same sentence. But nonetheless, you still have to follow your path as the military’s medic. You have grown used to taking care of the soldiers from said factor, staying up almost every single moment just to bring them back to life before sending them away to the battlefield with very few hopes that they will make it out unscathed again. It’s your job to keep them alive, to help them survive the whole thing before their demise falls onto their fate. To say it’s tiring is quite the understatement

• Yet in all that seriousness of violence and brutality, there is Zuka. To describe him, the first thing that pops up in your mind is definitely ‘unusually bright’. You don’t get to see a Blackrock soldier with too much of a personality quite often, so seeing Zuka is definitely a new experience. Maybe it did catch you off guard at some point

• There is something about him that you can’t understand just yet. He doesn’t strike you as the typical type of soldier you meet on a daily basis, but you feel like there is something more about this man. Zuka feels more alive than anyone you have come across in this forsaken factor — and surprisingly — in an unobnoxious way. It piques your curiosity, if you dare to admit that. You don’t know if you should see that as a positive or a negative thing anymore

• The first meeting between the two of you wasn’t actually a proper one, if you know what I mean. You were just minding your own business with the files and all before he just stormed into the infirmary while dragging two of his rookies, who looked like they had quite a fight going on earlier, then told you to patch those idiots up. It is your job after all, so you obliged. Deep inside you were probably wondering what the hell just happened? Should you put a ‘please inform the medic of your arrival’ sign out of the infirmary? Because you were pretty positive that Zuka almost made you have a heart attack because of his unexpected arrival bragging out of nowhere like that

• As you were dealing with the soldiers, you could feel Zuka staring behind your back for a good moment. You were used to being stared, mostly from patients who had nothing to do and did that out of boredom. Maybe sometime you got that not-so-welcoming attitude from certain people, but they usually kept it to themselves so you didn’t really comment on that. When you glanced back at him slightly, you saw that slight interest in his expression that was mixed with something else behind that flashy sunglasses. All you knew was that it wasn’t something ill, thankfully. The infirmary was rather quiet, only a few grunts or hisses from your current patients

• It was just a matter of time before he started to ramble on what actually happened before you could even ask: Basically those two idiots got into a fight together, and he had to break them apart so that they wouldn’t kill each other intentionally. He even made some playful remarks regarding the situation. You didn’t get to see people who were supposed to serve in the battlefield had that kind of relaxed demeanor most of the time, and you had to admit that they sounded more pleasant to deal with rather than a bunch of stone-cold guys. You could definitely work with these kind of people more often

• Then again, it was Zuka we were talking about. He wouldn’t let the chance of impressing anyone slipped away, especially you. Even in your first meet together, he just had to subtly mention some of his own achievements while he was at it. Full of himself, you already knew that. But on the other hand, it didn’t sound too bad coming out from him. You did engage with the conversation briefly with a few words of yourself, occasionally a few scoffs or chuckles too. Even when the two soldiers were bandaged up, Zuka almost seemed as if he wanted to stay a bit longer before returning to the camp. Then again, he was dragged back, so he bided you a good day until next time you met again

• That sums up your first brief interaction with him. And Zuka definitely keeps his words when just a day after that, he comes back to see you. Maybe asking you to deal with some minor damages with his physical condition after his work to make it not too obvious that he just wants to see you again. That is when he takes his chance to get to know you better without anyone under his command interrupting him. Truth be told, you might or might not see through him when his visits to you become more frequent. But hey, you do find his company to your liking, so you don’t complain about it

• It’s just the matter of times before Zuka starts to worm his way into your heart. This guy is so upfront about what he wants but also makes it secretive to a certain extent. It feels like he lets you know that he is pinning on you, but decides to act oblivious about it on purpose until you realize it. Most of his soldiers probably think that the two of you have something going on because of how he keeps looking out for you at any given moment before you even notice. Sure, there isn’t that much of space for love on the battlefield, but does Zuka give a damn about that? He will flip a coin with closed eyes to see how it will turn out, but then end up throwing the coin away into nowhere and claim that’s a sign for him to follow his heart

• Of course, he will use the excuse of him spending times with you as coincidences quite often if you’re asking him about it. He suddenly brags into your infirmary right on your shift? Oh he has this little wound that needs you to treat, and only you! You’re off to a break? What a surprise, he is taking a break too! You’re hungry and wants something but you can’t really go and get it? What is that on your desk- Oh it’s just Zuka doing you a favor! Okay the last one is a bit too crystal clear, but you get the idea of it

• You can rant your troubles to him as much as you want. Sometimes it’s funny due to some hilarious reasons of why someone has to see you, someone definitely broke their wrist while hula hooping before. But of course, there are times when it’s just exhaustingly bloody. Although he will have that ridiculously baffled expression on his face when you go into details of how you have to stitch a soldier up after his legs were blown into nowhere, he will still support you through your intense requirements for this jobs. Your stories do play an important part of him avoiding too awful danger ahead, imagining it after listening to you is definitely not a thing he should do when he is eating

• Believe me when I say Zuka is such a heartthrob in his prime. This man has the ultimate face card and muscle that will sure as hell swoon anyone he likes. With all due respect, this man is a hotshot and he is aware of it. You have your fair share of moments to check him out when bandaging him up, and that sight is definitely a feast to the eyes. But surprisingly, he isn’t a player like some thought he was. He just has good experiences based on observation of what is around him, maybe a bit of his own personal knowledge. But rest assured, he only has his eyes on you - both before and after the two of you are officially together. You, the one and only medic of a demon that he has fallen in love with

• Since Zuka is technically the typical type of heavy soldier who specializes in wide range combat — and by that I mean he literally explodes the living shit out of his enemies in the middle of being surrounded — injuries are expected from him. Although sure, it isn’t as serious as losing his head or whatever, but he isn’t invincible. Thankfully you’re there to nurse him back in good health, or else he might as well loose a limb, right? Then again, he will make it looks like it’s not that of a big deal when you try to get him to be more careful

• Although you have met more than just a few encounters with soldiers who think too highly of their ability than what they are actually capable of and end up staying inside the infirmary for weeks — and you expect Zuka to be another case of that with the level of cockiness he has for an attitude, you just can help but assume things because of that — he has proven you wrong on spot with his performance with only a few injuries that he claims to be, and I quote, ‘nothing for a darling like you to be worried about’. Well, there is a different between a rookie and an ambassador after all, you gotta give him that credit

• Yet that doesn’t change the fact that you have to grumble over how reckless he is while patching him up quite a lots of time though. You are probably one of the very few people that Zuka tolerate when having to stay still and listen to every single word involves his behavior. It’s comedic, to think that in a moment your leader is basically a monster on the battlefield, then the next thing you know is the medic is bossing him around with genuine care like a mother hen. You definitely earn his subordinates’ respect for that, since you have done the thing that no one else could

• Scars are the medals he wears with pride. Don’t judge him, he is still young and hasty, you should have seen that coming. Most of them are old scars from when he was still a rookie. Zuka doesn’t like talking about it since he still holds a personal grudge against his old mentor, that ruthless bastard made him go through hell and back with all those extreme methods of training. The first time you trace your finger against those old wounds, he can help but tensed up a bit, but then quickly sigh in relief afterwards because it’s just you. He won’t lie, he actually finds your touch to be soothing. And trust me, he won’t be shy when he ask for physical affection

• You know that he’s strong, right? Because that’s quite important in regards of what I’m about to tell you. Whenever this guy returns from his mission, especially a long one, the first thing he will ever do is to make his way right straight into your infirmary with a dramatic entrance as if he just returns to his spouse from a years long journey to the unknown on the ocean. It almost resembles that ‘Hello sailor!’ attitude when he just kicks the door open without second thought. And you know the rest: He will pick you up and spin you around lovingly just because he misses you so much. You have already witnessed his muscles yourself, and you know damn well that this man can carry a literal bull with ease if he wants. So he just casually picks you up like a couple of grapes

• Zuka is protective of you. He makes it obvious that you are with him. You know that he loves showing off, and that principle applies to you too. He has quite the bux because of his position, so perhaps you do have a bracelet, a necklace or even a ring that he gifted you. It basically screams to everyone that you’re his beloved and he is head over heels for you. It does a good job in keeping unwanted attention away from you. But then again, you’re still Blackrock’s military medic, no?

• Your career as the medic makes you deal with soldiers from here and there whether you like it or not. As long as it’s your shift, that’s your problem. And of course, most of them aren’t too talkative, but some are just insufferable. He doesn’t like it when someone is being an asshole to you. If they are so foolish to that point, he might as well take it personal and teach the unfortunate one a lesson. And don’t get me start when someone is trying to hit on you. This man will send that bastard in the infirmary almost immediately when it isn’t your shift. You have enough on your plate already, let him make others deal with it instead

• Both his horns and teeth are pointy. If you aren’t careful, you might get poked by it. And Zuka has this questionable habit of showing his affection which is playfully biting your cheek like he is enjoying a treat. It isn’t too hard, don’t worry about it, but it’s enough for you to feel that he just bites you. Kick his ass all you want, he will kiss and make up for that tease he gets you early until you decide to forgive him. As for his horn, there is this one time Zuka accidentally knock your chin with it. It definitely hurts, I can make sure of it. After that incident, he always has to double check before raising his head up after he lies down on your laps

• Speaking of that, yes, he loves resting his head down on your lap. When you’re working on a patient’s file, he will keep his and your dignity and just wrapping his arms around your neck as well as nuzzles against it when there are no eyes around. But honestly he doesn’t mind staying on the cold floor and just lies his head without giving a damn about what is going to happen next. Despite sometimes you act annoyed by it, but then again, your hand just automatically scratches his head like a habit without a second thought. Therefore, you just fuel his giddy mood even more

• Jokes aside, Zuka adores you. You are one of his top priorities that he swears on his life to protect. He will never trade you for anything. All those years of triumphs as the legendary hero of Blackrock feels so little compared to the time he is able to spend times with you, to love you and to let you see him for who he is. There are times when he comes back from work, or just basically seek you in the infirmary while no one else is there if the two of you are still in working hours, he won’t be able to keep that usual enthusiasm of his going. People have bad days after all, and you feel him because technically speaking working as a medic means almost everyday is a bad day to some extent for you

• Whenever you see that specific look on his expression, you know that something must have gone out of his control. Zuka doesn’t let anyone inside his personal bubble too close, but you are his exception. As much as he makes himself to look tough, when he’s around you, he can finally drop that facade after a troublesome day before bringing you close into his embrace. Feeling you in close contact with him physically assures his unknown worries, it helps calming his nerves down

• You know that although your beloved always seems to have this easy-going attitude without minding anything much, but you know Zuka, he is more than just that flamboyant guy with a shit-eating grin. You still remember that he still has a heart that yearns for peace despite his destructive actions. His heart is pumping with passion and emotions of a living being, a beating heart that bleeds when he sees a child he can’t save in that specific mission that he refuses to mention ever again in his life. He can still feel sorrow, and you have become his source of comfort because he knows that he can trust you with his vulnerability. He trust you. It means a lots for Zuka, you have no idea just how you have managed to tend the deepest wound inside his heart without knowing it. It just makes him fall deeper in love with you even more

• He won’t tell you this, but when he finally retires from his position, he wants to marry you. Zuka has imagined a domestic life with you more than he’d like to admit with a straight face. Well, he probably jokes around if you want to be his medic for the rest of your life or not, but there is a hint of seriousness in it. He wants to grow old with you, he is more than certain about that fact. While there is still bloodshed going on that requires his presence to deal with it, the thought of him dying and leaving you alone makes his stomach churned. Therefore, Zuka decides to wait. The man himself will figure out a way to convince you take it easy on yourself when the time comes as well, so for the time being, he will take his time

𓆝 𓆟 𓆞 𓆝

Note: What the heck they delay the date to tomorrow’s noon, like why is there so many delays? I’m so worried because I’ve been waiting for this like, it feels so slow (•᷄- •᷅ ;)

Note 2: You can definitely tell that I like Zuka

#phighting x reader #x reader #phighting!#zuka x reader #zuka phighting #phighting zuka #b. zuka #shui mo’s black tea

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the-universal-sun · 2 months ago

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Part two of the fic about Lee going little after Ford pushed him, please?? ❤️

Okay! So a couple of you wanted a part 2 to the drabble about Stan regressing after being burned, and I am more than happy to oblige! Sorry it took so long for this, personal stuff, you know? I’m also going to bounce between Ford and Stan’s POV!

(there are mentions pain medication and sedatives being used on Stanley for his burn, but don’t worry, it’s not super nefarious (it’s ford) and it’s only a quick sentence or two that starts around

“Come on, Stanley, drink your juice.” and ends at “back of his refrigerator”)

Stanford looked down at his brother, sleeping soundly on the couch with his raggedy looking stuffed bear clenched tightly in his arms. Stanley was acting…odd last night. After he was…branded for lack of a better term, his mental state seemed to almost dissolve? No that’s not right, he didn’t act unhinged or crazy, just younger? Stanford details his brother on his Journal page, sketching out the soft lines that make up his sleeping face; the worn Teddy Bear. Could the symbol have caused this phenomena? He didn’t know exactly what the symbol meant-an oversight on his part-just that Bill had told him to put it there. Was that just another one of his tricks and treacheries? Did Bill know this would happen and purposefully tell Ford to put that there so he’d burn his brother, leaving a permanent reminder of this encounter engraved on his skin? Ford has to set aside his Journal before he rips a hole in the page with his pen. He sits there, barely rested after locking himself up in the specialized cage he made, it was his first time using it. He had made it with padding on the walls, no sharp edges, and can only be opened via retinal scan; Bill can’t get out and can’t hurt him too badly, not with his hands wrapped up with excess padding. He wasn’t well rested but it was enough for some of the brain fog to dissipate, he can finally think.

He’s thought a lot in the last couple of hours; how he could apologize to Stanley for the burn and his words-looking back they’d been so cruel, so much like Bill how he could find a way to at least keep Bill from this dimension, and most recently, what happened with Stanley. He doesn’t think the burn had anything to do with his mental state-at least not the symbol. He already had that ragged looking stuffed toy with him in his knapsack. And Ford, upon looking through Stanley’s meager belongings, found a worn but seemingly well-loved large patchwork quilt-neither the bear or the blanket were things he can ever remember Stanley having back in Glass Shard before he was kicked out left. So he must have gotten them somewhere between that time and now, and judging by the looks of the comfort items, they were acquired a while ago, probably when Stanley was still in his teens. Which… that thought brought forward unpleasant feelings about how young they both were in Ford that he’d rather not think about right now. ‘

Is Stanley used to this phenomena? Has it happened before? Could it be psychological? I wish I knew where F left his psychology books, somewhere in my living room I think…’ Ford’s pulled out of his thoughts, pulling his hands down from tugging on his hair, by movement on the couch beside him. Stanley seems to be waking up, the light of the sun hitting directly in his eyes. Hopefully Ford can get some answers from him about what happened last night. He watches as his brother stirs from his sleep, one hand reaching up to rub at his eyes, Stanley was never much of an easy riser, always wanting to stay asleep and bundled in his warm blankets. Ford gets a look at Stanley’s eyes, just to make sure they weren’t yellow with slitted pupils; a sign of possession. They were his regular eyes, the iris color matching Ford’s own, but the look in his eyes was the same as last night, when he acted off. When he acted like a child. Perhaps…perhaps the issue is more psychological than magic or anomaly-induced, in which case, Ford’s going to have to deal with this with a light hand, he doesn’t want to mess up Stanley’s mind as well as his body. He still cares for his brother, even if he’s mad at him. He’ll try his best to help Stanley, even if that means that, for now, he has to treat him with near literal kids gloves.

Ford does his best approximation of a gentle smile as he can muster, he doesn’t think it turns out well though-he can feel the corner of his mouth slightly twitching and his eyes are probably entirely too wide with his ever present dark circles on display. Something must work, because Stanley, sleep now rubbed out of his eyes, is giving him a small smile back.

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Stan snuffles into Poindexter as the sun wakes him up. He wanted to stay in his blanket of warmth, he hasn’t been this warm in so long. But he remembers where he is, at Ford’s house, and Ford has never wanted to sleep in, and he wants to spend time with Ford, so he gets up anyway. He rubs the sleep and eye crusties away, squinting against the light burning his eyes. He goes to look for his brother and finds him on a chair next to the couch Stan slept in, giving him a weird smile. He looked…Stan didn’t know how he looked. Crazy? Like a mad scientist? He doesn’t seem like he’s mad at Stan or wants to hurt him, so he smiles back, clutching Poindexter to his chest and wrapping the blankie further around him. Ford’s house-Sixer;s house?- is warmer than his car, but Stan gets cold easily, so while he can, he’ll bundle up. It’s not his nice and big blankie with all the cool patterns some granny in New York gave him, but Ford’s sweater and blanket will do for now.

“Stanley, can you tell me how you’re feeling? Do you feel any different from last night? Physically and mentally? Do you know who I am?” Ford lists off too many questions for Stan to think through at once this early in the morning. And Stan can’t answer him anyways, not in the ways he wanted. He closes his eyes tightly, trying to find the ability to speak in him, bunching up Poindexter to his face and rocking slightly, feeling a tiny distressed. When the idea hits him. He holds up Poindexter and points between him and Ford like he did last night, trying to form the word in his mouth.

“The bear? Stanley I am not-Yes! We went over this last night, the bear and I have the same glasses!” Ford isn’t getting it! He’s supposed to be the smart one! Stan guesses he’ll have to try his best to speak, even if he’s not happy about it.

“P-Poinde-x-ter.” Stan tries to slowly say the word so he doesn’t mess it up. He doesn’t know what he’d do if Ford made fun of him for how he spoke when he was feeling all fuzzy in his head. He points between Ford and Poindexter while saying the word. Ford better get it this time, because Stan’s tongue is feeling really thick in his mouth now-and his body hurts too.

“Poindexter? Stanley, I-” Ford stops and just stares at Stan, making him fidget nervously. Was Ford made he named his Teddy after him? It was one of the few comfort items Stan had, he cuddled him even when he wasn’t feeling all fuzzy headed like now. It reminded Stan of hugging Ford.

“Did you name the bear after me?” Stanley nodded shyly, hiding his face in Poindexter’s back, scared of Ford’s reaction. It’s been so long since they’ve seen each other that he COULD get mad at Stan for naming his Teddy after him, kicking him out into the cold again, to be alone and scared and to never see Ford again-

“I see. That’s…that was sweet of you, Stanley, thank you. A-are you okay? Are you in any pain?” Ford’s voice was softer than it was before, when he was asking all those questions. Stan wonders why. He lifts his face up from his stuffy and looks at his brother, his Sixer, and sees his face. It looked softer than when he was smiling before, he was sitting on the edge of the bed too. Stan didn’t even feel the bed move, and he had gotten really good at that after all these years. Ford must have had some sort of ninja training to be so sneaky when moving. The thought of Ford being a ninja makes him giggle, his shoulder moving with his laughs makes him wince, though. He points to his shoulder, the one that hurt. Now that he’s focusing on it, it hurts really bad, like really REALLY badly. So bad he wants to cry, but he can’t cry because then Ford will think he’s a big stupid baby. And Stan’s NOT a big dumb-

“I thought that would be the case. I never got to give you any pain medication,” Stan cringes at the thought of medicine, “and I doubt I have anything truly strong enough to numb the pain of a burn to that extent. I do have a mild sedative that I could give you, it would make you loopy for the duration until it wears off, but I…I doubt that would be a problem with how you’re acting now.” Stan doesn’t think there’s anything wrong with how he’s acting, Ford’s just a Fuddy Duddy sometimes, like right now. He pouts at Ford from behind Poindexter where he’d hidden his face again, his brother looked like he had this thinking cap on and working at full capacity, holding his chin in his hands and thinking with his eyes closed. Stan can’t help it, while Ford’s not looking, he sticks his tongue out at him.

“Are you still afraid of needles? If you are-” Just the thought of needles or any sharp object of any kind has Stan clutching Poindexter and hiding under the blanket, body shivering. He HATES needles and anything involving the doctor’s office. Distantly, his mind knows there’s other reasons he hates needles, but he can’t bring himself to think of them right now, not when Ford wants to jab him with a big giant needle! He whimpers as his shoulder moves, making it hurt even more than before. His face hurts too. So does his whole body. He just wants to go back to sleep, but he knows he can’t, not with the pain and not with Ford here, who probably wouldn’t even let him go back to sleep.

“Relax, Stanley! No needles, I promise, I’ll find another way to give you the sedative, so please just relax. I need to look at your shoulder and change your bandages, can I do that? Please? Let me take care of you, at least for this.” Ford taking care of Stan? He hasn’t thought about that at all, he thought he was hated by his brother, but if Ford put him in a cozy sweater, let him sleep in his house, and says he wants to take care of Stan, then it must mean that Ford still loves him, right? Stan sits up, blanket still draped over his head and eyes Ford, his hands are up and his eyes still look soft, but they look tight at the edges, like he’s stressed about something. Stan’s gotten good at reading faces. Is he upset because of Stan’s burn? That’s stressing him out too, he doesn’t like pain, not one bit. He nods his head and moves to get off the couch, blanket still wrapped around him and his Teddy still in hand, and Ford moves off it, too, standing in front of Stan. He grabs Ford’s hand before he starts to walk forward, making Ford just stop and stare super intensely at Stan, and Stan stares back. Are they having a staring contest? He doesn’t know if he’ll win or not, he’s still pretty tired and his eyes still burn, but Ford has some BIG dark circles under his eyes, so who knows? They don’t seem to be having a staring contest, his brother looking away and starting to walk forward, gripping Stan’s hand very tightly.

They end up in the bathroom again, with Stan’s shirt off and his brother fixing up the ouchie on his shoulder. He bites his lips, and then Poindexter’s ear (He’s sure his friend wouldn’t mind if it helps with not crying out) because his ouchie hurts worse than last night, and the pain is making his head go even fuzzier, fuzzy like last night, which is the bad way because when it gets even fuzzier then he really is just a big baby. But…but Ford said he’d take care of him, so is it really bad, right now at least? He doesn’t think so, it’d be real nice to be taken care of when his head gets so fuzzy he can barely think. It’s probably for the best that it happens with his big brother here, because he blinked and suddenly he’s at a table, not in the bathroom anymore, and he has a new sweater on. He still has Poindexter and Ford’s blankie in his arms, though, so he doesn’t panic as much as he thought he would, especially not with Ford sitting next to him at the table. He just lets his mind go into that nice, super fuzzy feeling.

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Ford’s getting worried about Stanley. While he was redressing his burn in the bathroom, Stanley’s mental state seemed to worsen, reverting back to the glaze eyed and clingy person he was yesterday, except it seems that this Stanley seems more…stuck in his head? Ford doesn’t know and he’s internally panicking because he cannot tell if this is indicative of some head injury Stanley had gotten-unlikely as his pupils contracted all the way and his head had no bumps, cuts, bruises, or scars-or if this was something to do with his inner psyche, a concept Ford has scoffed at and derided but is in sorely need of a deeper understanding of it now. It does seem like Stanley can understand him, if not slowly, which is good because that means that he still has his cognitive abilities about him, but he can’t find any reason as to why his brother would be acting like a child. It doesn’t seem like Ford’s done anything wrong beyond mentioning needles-driving Stan to hide pitifully under the blanket he still has clutched in his hands. It’s fine, he’s fine. He’s Stanford Pines, he can take care of his brother, he’s capable and in control enough to do that.

“Come on, Stanley, drink your juice. It’s-um- peach juice? Maybe?” Ford had taken the sedative from his first aid kit and emptied a dose from the needle into a cup of some juice he found in the back of his refrigerator. The label was mostly rubbed off, he can’t tell what the flavor is but it smells like peach so it might be. He can’t remember getting it, but the best buy date printed on the side has it listed for still being good for a week, so he’s sure it’s fine to let Stanley drink it! He holds the cup steady when it appears that his brother was going to just lap at it from the table, which would just end in an all out sticky mess that he doesn’t have the energy to deal with. It’s a bit tricky trying to get Stan to go up the stairs after that, the juice working fast and making his legs quake and look close to giving out, but he makes it to the room eventually, gently depositing Stanley on the couch and looking around for his Journal to write down his observations. He left it here when he tended to Stanley’s wound. He finds it and opens it to the bookmarked page, a rough sketch of a sleeping Stanley greeting him. Hmm, now that he was looking at it, Stanley did seem almost…cute…in a way. The look of peace on his face with the way he was clutching the bear-Poindexter, Stanley had called it (Ford is going to ignore the feelings it stirs in his chest and the ache it brings to his stomach, imagining a young teenage Stanley holding the bear tight and calling it Poindexter like-). He pulls the ear of that bear from Stanley’s mouth, the sedative mixed with all of the tension in his brother’s body must be having a toll on him, he can barely keep his eyes open. But he still has such a tight grip on the bear and the blanket, luckily Ford was able to take the quilt from Stanley’s bag while he was in the kitchen, and he tucks it tight around his brother, a small smile lifting the corners of his lips as a small sigh is released from his brother’s at the feeling of such an obviously loved item surrounding him.

Ford’s about to get up and head down to the basement to find a way to stop Bill the portal when he feels a hand tightly grip his own-it’s Stanley, of course. The first time he had done it, Ford could only bring himself to look at his brother, his eyes not seeing the almost 30 year old man, but the younger, gapped tooth version who insisted they hold hands on the pier so as not to get lost. It stirred feelings long pushed down inside of him-taking care of Stanley in this way has been doing that, bringing these feelings he pushed down up the the surface. He looks at the hand gripping his vest, then looks at Stanley’s face, his eyes, hazy as they are, seemed downtrodden and he let out a whine. He did this last night, didn’t he? Holding on to Ford and silently begging for him to stay. And who was he to deny Stanley, really? He knows he wouldn’t be able to concentrate much down in his labs, not with Stanley up here like this. All alone and in a very vulnerable state of mind. No, he’d better stay now, too, to keep watch over Stanley, who knows what kind of side effects the sedative could have, either? He settles down on the bed, sitting next to Stanley, just brushing his hair back with one hand and writing down the events of the morning in his Journal with the other, his mind feeling a bit more peaceful now than it had in a while. He’ll talk to Stanley about this later, hopefully he’s feeling better. Hopefully he may let Ford take care of him like this again. Ford doesn’t dwell on those thoughts for long, slowly sketching out another image of Stanley in his Journal, for his own safekeeping, this time.

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nichuuu · 2 years ago

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Yeowooya

Tags: Smut, creampie, facial, handjob, teasing, subby joy, doggy, riding, fluff(?) Word count: 6k++

The clacking of your keyboard filled the empty office. Your eyes throbbed in their sockets, begging you for some sort of rest from your computer screen. The minute hand of the clock was slowly approaching the 12 mark on the clock, it would be 1 am soon. Regardless, you were determined to put in those extra hours and finish this damn proposal. With a sip of some extra strong coffee, you let the caffeine take over your senses. You mindlessly typed away, words appearing on the document faster than your mind could process.

Your teammates had gone out drinking again. Unlike them, you had a sense of responsibility in you, so you were the one who stayed to finish the last leg of the proposal. While your so-called “teammates” were busy celebrating god knows what, you were slaving away in your space, fingers achy and joints sore.

“Wow… Hard working as ever…”

You looked up. A familiar face smiled back at you over the cubicle.

“Not now Soo-young,” You huffed, looking back at your screen. From your peripheral vision, you saw the woman pout.

“Aw… Why so grumpy?” She teased you. You glared at her.

“I said: Not now,” You repeated yourself. Joy rolled her eyes.

“Fine…” She sighed. Her head disappeared behind the wall of your prison, re-appearing from the entrance to your cubicle.

“Is it me? Or does this place get messier and messier each time I visit?” She mused.

“Keep your hands off my shit,” You warned her, eyes not leaving the screen.

“I’ll do what I please, thank you.”

You heard her rummaging through some papers on your desk. You wanted to whip around and just let her have it right there, but you were so close to completing your task. Forcing yourself to stay laser focused, you pushed yourself a little more. Your fingers moved faster, the frequency of the clacking increasing. At some point, you felt Soo-young looking over your shoulder, watching silently as words appeared on screen. Then she went back to poke her nose into the papers on your desk.

“Damn… This paper was dated 2 years ago!” You heard her mutter. “He really needs to sort his shit out…”

More rustling came from behind you. You were on the final stretch now, just a few more sentences left. You could feel your heart beating faster in excitement as you made your way towards the light at the end of the tunnel.

Alas, you typed out the final word. A rather loud yell of victory left your mouth as you saved your work. You crashed back in your chair, feeling more relieved than you’d ever had before.

“Oh my god… Never again…” You grimaced, massaging your tired eyes.

“This all seems like a you problem not gonna lie,” Joy chimed in. You opened your eyes.

“Joy… Please shut the fuck up,” You requested. In response, she dragged your chair out and spun you in a circle. You yelped, quickly planting your feet down in the ground to stop yourself. God forbid those 4 cups of coffee came out of you.

“You’re done with your work! Stop being a grumpy old fart!” Soo-young reminded you. You sighed.

“Stop nagging. You remind me of my Eomma,” You told her. She scoffed.

“Maybe you should take better care of yourself. That way I can stop taking care of you like you’re a little kid,” Joy retorted. You wanted to argue against her statement, but she had a fair point.

“Fair enough,” You relented.

“That’s what I thought bitch boy,” She sneered playfully. You chuckled.

You weren’t sure how to describe your relationship with Soo-young. You started off as complete strangers to each other, strangers that worked 2 desks away and always seemed to go to the same spot for lunch everyday. One fine day, she sat down next to you in the middle of a meeting—she was half an hour late—and introduced herself to you. You spent the long hours of the meeting entertaining yourselves in hushed, clandestine conversations, stopping only when your boss turned back to face the zombie crowd. At the end, you made yourself a new friend and exchanged numbers with her.

Months passed. You got closer to Soo-young, close enough to call her what all her friends called her.

“They call me Joy,” She told you one morning over some doughnuts and coffee.

“Joy?” You mused. She shrugged.

“Yea… I never really understood why, but the name stuck.”

You would come to understand why with time. She truly lived up to her namesake, her bright, contagious smile and her amusing personality making her a true Joy to be around. You liked her company, it made the office feel like less of a slave plantation.

Your relationship with her was simple up til Christmas day. She invited you back to her place for a couple of drinks after an office party, and you gladly obliged. A few jokes, some snacks and quite a few glasses of wine later, your clothes were discarded together with Joy’s and you were taking her against the window of her apartment. After your fling with her that night, you two made a mutual agreement: What happened would be a one time thing. You were friends, simple as that.

However, neither of you really kept to the first part of the agreement. It was broken just a few weeks after when Joy pulled you into a storage room and sucked your cock.The she proceeded to take your cock up her pussy, your hand clasped around her mouth to prevent anyone from hearing her moans. You broke the agreement two months later, guiding her away from the poolside party at a friends house, ripping her bikini off her and fucking her senseless in the guest bathroom. Since then, sex with Joy happened almost on a weekly basis—sometimes a monthly basis if you two were really busy. No real feelings had manifested for Joy, and Joy certainly didn't seem interested to enter a relationship with you of all people. Hence, the two of you declared yourselves friends with benefits.

“Why are you still in the office?” You asked Joy, powering off your monitor. Soo-young sighed.

“Had to file my team’s paperwork again…” She lamented. “I really hate these slackers.”

“Same here,” You chuckled bitterly. “I just keep saving their asses over and over again while they go out drinking every other night… Ridiculous if you ask me.”

Joy laughed, clearly sharing a common sentiment.

“Should’ve just shredded all the papers… Let those fucks rot for all I care,” Joy mused.

“We’re on the last leg of the proposal submissions… Presentations are tomorrow,” You reminded her. Joy nodded.

“Yep… Which is exactly why I plan on calling in sick tomorrow,” She said. You raised an eyebrow.

“Why?”

Joy scoffed.

“We’re the same. We both stay for long hours in the office saving our team’s asses, but we get zero recognition at the end of it all cause it’s a ‘group effort’,” Joy lamented. “I’ve been doing all the work. I want to see how they pitch the proposal without me tomorrow.”

You smirked.

“You’re more cunning than I thought,” You mused. She winked.

“I’ve got lots of ideas up here,” She said, tapping her head. “You know, maybe you should call in sick tomorrow too…”

You shook your head.

“As much as I want to let my team burn to the ground, I don’t see myself doing that,” You told her honestly. Joy groaned.

“Oh my god! You and your morals!” She sighed. “Have a little fun! You certainly seem to be able to put aside your little moral compass when we fuck.”

“But that’s because… Because… Uh…” You struggled to argue.

“Because what huh?” Joy pressed. “Because you like using my tight little body and ravishing my ass? Is that it?”

She wasn’t exactly wrong, but you didn’t want to let her win just like that.

“And what if that is the reason? What are you gonna do, Joy?” You challenged her. Joy stared at you for a moment. Her brows furrowed, visibly deep in thought.

“Alright then,” She finally said after some time. “If that really is the reason… I pitch you an offer.”

You crossed your arms over your chest.

“Let’s hear it.”

Joy leaned against your desk.

“If you call in sick with me tomorrow, I’ll let you fuck me tonight.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I’m guessing there’s a catch?” You prompted. She grinned.

“But of course,” She replied. “If you fuck me tonight. You have to come to the beach with me tomorrow.”

“That sounds like more of a win for me,” You told her bluntly.

“It’s a win-win for the two of us,” She explained. “You get to fuck me and go to the beach—I get to screw over both our teams, get railed and go to the beach. Simple.”

You nodded your head thoughtfully, pretending to think it over. In truth, you had your answer ready for quite some time.

“So?” Joy urged.

“I accept your offer,” You answered. Joy grinned.

“Perfect,” She said. “Now get your shit and let’s go. All this talk about sex has me aching for your cock.”

As she turned to leave, you grabbed her by the wrist.

“Who said anything about leaving?” You asked. Joy raised an eyebrow.

“My my… Getting mischievous aren’t you?” She teased.

“Well… Like you said: I can set aside my moral compass when it comes to fucking you.”

Joy smiled that lustful smile.

“So are you just gonna keep talking? Or are you gonna kiss me?”

In a flash, you were up on your feet, her tight frame in your arms and her lips on yours. Her hands touched your chest, your own hands on her ass.

“I know the pin to my boss’s office…” Joy whispered. “She has a couch in there.”

A sly grin made its way up your face.

“Then what are we waiting for?” You asked. Joy giggled. She grabbed your hand, hurriedly pulling you towards the direction of her boss’s office.

Looks like your night was far from over.

You ran to that office with Joy like it was an emergency. Once there, Joy hurriedly punched in the numbers. A series of beeps, a green flash and Joy threw open the door, pulling you in with her.

“Any cameras in here?” You asked her.

“Nope,” She replied confidently. “Funnily enough, the CEO turns off all the cameras at night to save money on electricity. That’s why we have so many security guards.”

“That sounds oddly convenient,” You mused.

You found a light switch and flipped it on. The room filled with warm light, revealing the spacious office that was at your disposal.

“Christ. Just shut up and undress me already,” Joy huffed. She moved to unbutton your shirt, and you did the same. The lacy fabric of her bra slowly became more and more visible with each button that came undone, heightening your excitement and making your cock twitch wildly in your pants.

Joy tugged at your pants.

“Get this off,” She whispered. You gladly undid your belt and unbuckled your trousers. They fell with a ‘thump’, pooling around your ankles and exposing the very apparent bulge in your underwear. Joy got her skirt off, making quick work of the article of clothing and tossing it to a side.

“Come here,” She said. She captured your lips, hands hooking the waistband of your underwear and pulling it down. You jolted a little when you felt the coolness of her palm against your shaft, but quickly adjusted, relishing the small sparks of pleasure when she stroked your length slowly. Your lips parted with hers, your eyes drinking in Joy’s curvaceous body.

“The usual?” She asked, toying with the tip of your cock.

“You pick,” You told her. There was a gleam in Joy’s eyes as she placed a finger on her lips, deep in thought.

“I wanna ride you,” She decided. You grinned.

“Sure thing, but I want to eat you out first.”

Joy let go of your cock.

“Then fucking eat me.”

She guided you over to her boss’s desk. She propped herself up on it, spreading her luscious thighs apart and exposing a wet patch on her still-clothed pussy. It would only be a matter of time before her underwear would be discarded as well.

You didn’t need to be invited over. You were on your knees in a flash, hands pushing Joy’s spreading Joy’s legs a little further. Your index finger pressed against the damp spot on her panties, making her gasp when you started tracing the outline of her pussy with your fingertip.

“D-Don’t tease me like that…” She whispered.

“I like to play with my food a little,” You smirked. She whined, her voice full of need and desire. She squirmed atop the desk, eyes squeezed shut and head tilted back. She made no further attempts to cease your teasing.

When you eventually decided you had Joy riled up, you pulled the thin fabric of her panties off. Her pink folds glistened under the light. You licked your lips, mouth watering at the sight.

You planted a kiss on her left thigh, then her right. Joy’s legs trembled in anticipation.

“Look at me Joy,” You ordered. She bit down on her lower lip, eyes locking onto you. Maintaining eye-contact, you leaned forward and placed your mouth on her soaking pussy.

You’d never forget her reaction when your tongue darted out, sweeping across her slick with the tip of your tongue. Her head whipped back, jet black hair sent flying behind her as she let a sharp sigh escape her lips. You quickly responded with another lick, your tongue tracing a path from the bottom of her slit to the top of her opening. Her juices accumulated on your tongue, her taste lingering in your mouth.

Joy’s hand found your head. She gripped a fistfull of your hair, your name spilling out from her half-parted lips. Her thighs clamped around your head, the flesh drowning out the whir of the air conditioning — a warm, pillowy heaven. Her moans resonated through her body, her thighs vibrating slightly with each gasp or sigh. Your tongue attacked her folds, the flat side of your tongue brushing up Joy’s womanhood in slow, long strokes. The tip of your tongue flicked the swollen nub at the top of her pussy, playing with her clit to your heart's content as you made Joy writhe with pleasure. Nails dug into the back of your skull. Her Thighs clamped down harder around your ears. Her juices leaked out of her cunt, pooling in your mouth as Joy pushed your head into her, forcing your tongue as deep as it could go.

Her thighs shifted down slightly, gripping your cheeks in their grasps instead.

“Fuck… Keep going… Keep eating me…” She pleaded, face twisting in pleasure. There was really no need for that request. You never intended on stopping till she came.

It didn’t take long for you to get close to accomplishing your mission. When her thighs tensed around you, you increased the intensity of your assault. Joy’s breaths became shallower, the intervals between her moans decreasing with each one that left her mouth.

“Oh god… I’m cumming… I’m fucking—”

She never finished her sentence. Her throat strained visibly, her vocal chords tensing as the pleasure struck her like a bolt of thunder. In a sweaty, beautiful disarray, Joy orgasmed. Her lips formed a round “o”, her nails threatening to puncture your scalp. You lapped up the juices that gushed out from her entrance, drinking in as much of her as you could. You fell some of her sweet fluids dribbling down your chin, but you’d handle that later.

You held her body down by her thighs as she shook and quivered on the table. Eventually she settled down enough. She brought her left hand—which had been digging into your scalp—-down to your cheek. She lifted up your head softly.

“Couch… Let me fuck myself on your cock.”

You smiled.

“With pleasure Joy.”

You stood up. Grasping her hand, you helped her off the table and onto the couch. Your cock throbbed violently in her hand as she gripped it firmly, guiding the tip of your shaft to her entrance. Without a word of warning, she dropped down, sheathing you inside of her tight little cunt. Your eyes bulged, a strained sigh leaving your throat. Your hands found her full ass, gripping it tightly.

“Fuck… I always forget how big you are…” She breathed, slowly grinding against you to adjust to your size.

“But you never forget how much you love bouncing on my cock, do you Joy?” You asked.

“Of course…” She replied, eyes glazed with pleasure. “I will never forget how good it feels to be filled with your cock.”

Her hips stopped moving. She shifted on top of you, her hands resting on your shoulders. She kissed you tenderly, tasting herself on your lips.

“I’m gonna fuck myself so hard on this big cock,” She whispered.

“Go ahead Joy,” You said. “Show me how you ride this cock.”

When she began bouncing on you, the sensation of her walls gripping and sliding up and down your shaft almost made you black out. You grounded yourself in reality with the aid of the tender flesh of Joy’s butt, your teeth clenching as she impaled herself on you relentlessly. Her pussy pulsed around your shaft, each beat matching her pace.

“So… Fucking… Big…” She gasped. “I’m… Addicted… To your big cock.”

Her voice was raspy, filled with desire. She wanted this. She needed this.

You smirk, eyes glued to her breasts that were bouncing with each impact she made against you. She caught you looking, taking the hint and leaning forward to give you better access to her assets.

“Thank you,” You smirked through the overwhelming pleasure. You dived in, licking up the sweat between her breasts before shifting slightly to take one of her tits into your mouth. Joy’s walls seemed to clench down tighter around you, responding to the attention you gave her breasts. She moaned louder, riding you faster as your tongue swirled around her taut nipple.

“Fuck yes, suck my tits. Suck my fucking tits!” She screamed. Her cheeks were flushed, her body glistening with sweat as she rode you fiercely. She wasn’t letting up on her pace, fucking herself harshly on your cock just as she promised. She seemed to be sucking you deeper and deeper between her folds. Each bottom of her strokes squeezed you deliciously, partially forcing you out of her pussy when she rose. The motion repeated, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

You could feel the cushion of the couch compressing under your combined weight, Joy’s frantic bounces onto you making it feel like you were on a trampoline. She moaned right into your ear, making your hair stand as her scent filled your nose. Joy overwhelmed your senses. You were going insane.

She continued riding you, thighs clamped around your waist and her arms wrapped around your neck. You released her tit from your mouth, mounds of flesh glistening in a mixture of sweat and saliva. Joy’s eyes, half-lidded in pleasure, stared into yours. The intimacy was sublime.

As much as you would have enjoyed letting Joy bounce on your cock forever, you had your limits.

“Joy…” You grunted. She understood.

She stopped riding you, quickly dismounting you and sitting down next to you. Her hand gripped your shaft, slick with her juices, jerking you off frantically.

“Quick, choose a place to cum,” She urged you.

It takes effort. But through your gritted teeth, you manage a reply.

“Y-Your face. Let me cover your face.”

Joy was on her knees in an instant. Her hand never left your shaft, pumping away with gusto as she closed her eyes. Her free hand fondled your balls, gently massaging your cum up your shaft as your toes curled into the carpet. With a grunt, you let loose.

Rope after rope of your hot seed shoots out of your cock. Joy’s face is covered almost instantly, your load painting her features white in your semen. She squeezed your cock, forcing every last drop of cum out of you. Your body went rigid in overwhelming bliss, your senses numbed by the force of your tidal wave of an orgasm.

Joy waited patiently for the last drop of your cum to ooze out of your twitching shaft. Her tongue emerged from her cum stained lips, licking up your seed that was around her mouth before cleaning you up thoroughly. You mustered the strength to rest a hand on her head, gently stroking her sweat-matted hair as she worked on your cock, helping you to gently ease down from your high.

“That… Was better than I imagined,” You mused.

“Ever since when has sex with me been a disappointment?” Joy grinned, gathering bits of your load off her face with her fingers.

“That’s true…” You mused. Joy giggled, slapping your cock against her face.

Joy waited for you to regain some strength, content with sucking your cock in the meantime.

When you could finally stand, you assisted Joy in cleaning up the mess you made on her face. When all was said and done, you and Joy made sure that there were no odd stains left anywhere in her boss’s office. Once you were both sure that your deed would not be discovered, you hastily put your clothes back on. You turned off the lights and slipped out of the office.

“That was fun,” Joy giggled, hugging your arm. “Now… I expect you to hold up your end of our deal.”

You chuckled.

“It would be rude of me not to after what we did,” You mused. Joy smiled.

“Good… Then it looks like we’ll be seeing each other tomorrow.”

~~~~~~

The sun shined intensely on your face. Joy’s car cruised down the road, the wind catching her flowy black hair and making her sundress flap a little in the wind.

“Quit staring at my tits will you?” She remarked.

“You can’t blame me,” You defended yourself. She rolled her eyes.

“Right. I just look too good in this don’t I?”

You chuckled, your eyes turning back to the road. The sand and the blue waters were visible now, you were close.

“Take the exit just up ahead,” You instructed her.

“I know what I’m doing. You don’t need to backseat drive,” She scoffed.

“All right… You’re the boss…”

Joy smirked, pushing up her sunglasses a little. When the exit came, you were amused when Joy’s car sped right past it.

“I thought you said you knew what you were doing?” You questioned.

“I do,” She answered confidently.

“Then why the fuck did you miss the exit?”

“Cause we’re going somewhere else.”

You raised an eyebrow.

“I thought you said we were going to the beach?”

Joy smiled innocently.

“We are, just a different part,” She answered. You gave her a look.

“What?” She asked. “Why are you giving me that side eye?”

You folded your arms.

“Why are you suddenly changing our destination?” You interrogated. Joy’s lips formed a thin line.

“Relax. I’m not kidnapping you or anything,” She reasoned with you. “Just calm your ass down. We’re almost there.”

You were a little sceptical, but you knew better than to doubt Soo-young. But you still had the urge to have a final say.

“Always breaking agreements,” You muttered.

“I heard that,” She told you.

“You were supposed to,” You replied. Joy clicked her tongue in annoyance, but you recognised that familiar cheeky glint in those eyes. She was having fun, so were you.

Joy drove for another 10 minutes or so. A roof of a structure slowly emerged, a stand alone seaside chalet revealing itself.

“We’ll get the beach to ourselves here,” Joy grinned. You chuckled.

“You’re full of surprises,” You remarked.

“And you’re full of shit,” She shot back.

Joy’s car pulled up to the gate of the chalet. She rustled through her tote bag for a bit before retrieving a remote. With a click of a button, the gate rolled open. Joy drove in, parking the car just outside the entrance to the small house.

“We came here on a team retreat a year ago, I figured out how to book it,” She told you.

“I didn’t ask,” You said.

“But you’re bound to ask at some point,” She fired back.

She wasn’t wrong.

You helped Joy to unload the things in her trunk, amused to find that she had brought beverages and meat to grill. You quickly deduced that this would be an overnight stay, realising why she asked you to pack an extra set of clothes.

You entered the chalet with Joy. While Joy put your things in the room, you busied yourself with storing the meat and drinks in the fridge. It was quick work for the both of you.

“Look around for a bit, I need to change,” Joy told you.

“Can I watch?” You asked. She slapped your arm.

“Fucking pervert.”

You chuckled. Joy giggled a little before retreating back to the room and shutting the door behind her. You did as suggested, exploring the place a little while you waited for Joy to emerge out of the room. It was a cosy little spot, complete with an outdoor dining area that offered a breathtaking view of the sea. The view was great, but something told you that the view of Joy’s naked body would’ve been better.

“All right. Let’s head to the water.”

You turned. Your mouth dried up.

Joy sauntered towards you, towel in hand. Her wide hips swaying in those skimpy shorts that cut off perfectly around the fullness of those thighs, perky breasts bulging out behind that tight neon-yellow top on her body, bending the words “Life Is Sweet” around her ample tits. Her hair was tied up into a high ponytail, a cap sitting on her head to block out the harsh sun.

“What?” She prompted, giving you a look.

“N-Nothing,” You quickly replied, shaking off the dirty thoughts in your head. “Let’s go…”

You slid the door open and walked out into the deck. You could hear Joy’s pattering footsteps behind you, and you had to resist the urge to look back and get another good look at her. You’d seen her in all sorts of clothing. Suits, dresses, mini skirts, you’d seen it all. Hell you’d even seen her naked countless times.

But this? This felt so different for some odd reason.

Your feet hit the sand, the grains crushing under your feet as you moved towards the water.

“Wait,” Joy called out from behind. You turned—a little too enthusiastically—and saw her holding out a bottle.

“Put on some sunscreen,” She told you, walking up to you and uncapping the bottle. You held out a palm, and Joy pumped a generous dollop into your hand. You thanked her with a smile before applying the lotion onto your body. Joy busied herself with her own body, the Sunscreen making her skin gleam slightly before she rubbed the lotion into her skin completely.

“Could you help me with my back?” She requested, turning her back to you. You quickly took a moment to soak in the shape of her ass in those shorts before walking over and taking the sunscreen from her. You pushed down, pumping some of the lotion onto your hand before applying it on Joy’s back. Your hands cheekily slipped under the bits of her top that clung to her back, earning a playful gaze from the woman. You took your time to rub the lotion into her smooth skin, savouring the curves of her body from behind.

When you decided that you were satisfied, you stepped away.

“All done,” You smiled innocently.

“You sure took your time. Had a good look?” She teased, catching you red handed. You smirked.

“Definitely,” You replied. She smiled and pinched your cheek.

“What a cheeky boy…”

Joy laid down a mat under the shade of a tree, far enough from the tide but close enough for you to quickly access the water. You walked towards the azure blue sea with Joy, wet sand squishing under your feet as you went deeper and deeper. The two of you didn’t go in too deep, stopping when the water hit your knees. A wind had picked up, and Joy stretched out her arms.

“Ah… This is nice…” She sighed.

“Mhm,” You hummed in agreement. A smile made its way onto the girl’s face.

“I wonder how our teams are fairing…” She giggled.

“Not too well probably,” You answered truthfully.

“Ah well… We all get what we deserve…” She sighed. “And we deserve this nice bit of relaxation…”

You nodded, silently agreeing with her. There was a moment of silence between you two as you both stood there, letting the water sweep around your knees. The sea water left a pleasant tingle on your skin, giving you some sort of a respite to the heat of the summer.

Joy moved closer to you.

“You know what’s nice about this?” She whispered.

“What?” You asked. She stretched out her arm towards the shore.

“We have this segment of the beach to ourselves.”

She moved in a little more, your bare arms touching each other. You caught her gaze. She smiled.

“Say…” She began, gingerly reaching for your hand. “I wanted to ask you a question.”

“What is it?” You asked. Joy didn’t reply, opting to silently guide your hand onto her toned tummy. Your knuckles slipped past the waistband of her shorts, your fingers coming into contact with something warm and wet. Experience allowed you to deduce what exactly was against your fingertips.

“Ever thought about fucking on the beach?”Joy grinned.

“Nope… But I’m down to try,” You replied.

As quickly as you had entered the water with her, you found yourselves back up on shore, tongues in mouths and hands on each other. Joy’s mat served as a barrier between you and the sand, providing a perfect place for you to lay Soo-young down and slip your digits into her slick folds. A moan escaped her lips, her front teeth becoming visible as she bit down on her fingernail. You pumped your hand, working your fingers deeper into her slick cunt, your lips peppering her neck with kisses and light nibbles. A stream of moans and whines flowed from Joy’s mouth.

“Oh yes… Right there baby… R-Right fucking there,” She hissed, hips jerking when your fingers curled up and made contact with the soft flesh on the roof of her walls.

“You’re so wet Joy,” You muttered.

“I’m always wet for you…” She replied.

You smiled.

“You're always such a little slut for me, aren’t you?” You whispered into her ear. She nodded.

“O-Oh… Y-Yes… I’m your little slut…”

Your fingers worked faster, pumping harder and deeper into her warmth. She gasped sharply, her back arching deliciously. You bent her to your will, a dark part of you finding pleasure in making her yours.

“Oh shit… Don’t stop… Please don’t stop,” She whined, her left hand kneading her left breast while her right clung to your shirt sleeve for dear life. She let her sighs and gasps tumble out of her mouth, not bothering to control her volume as her hips start grinding against your hand. Her eyes filled with need, her tight body quivering and thrashing against your hand as she moaned your name into your ear. With each entrance of your fingers, a delightfully erotic squelch filled your ears, mixing with Joy’s filthy exclamations of pleasure. Your lips found Joy’s, muffling her cries with your mouth. Her thighs clamped down tightly around your hand, keeping you deep inside of her while you drove her wild.

Your left hand found one of her taut nipples, and you gave the nub a pinch. Joy moaned into your mouth, her right hand shifting up and gripping your forearm. You released her lips, allowing you to hear those cute mewls and gasps clearly. Her moaning increased in volume, her eyes widening.

“Fuck… I-I’m gonna cum,” She said, nails digging into your arm. “Keep fucking me with your fingers! I’m fucking… Oh!”

Joy came, tight frame shaking violently. Her mouth opened in a silent scream, pupils dilating further as her thighs quivered around your hand. Her back arched further, her breasts proudly protruding on her quivering chest. Your hand slowed, gradually halting to give Joy a breather through her high. Her body crashes down on the mat mere minutes later, heaving with each breath Joy took as the bliss faded. Sweat beaded on her brow, her skin glistening deliciously under the light.

Her weak left hand tilted your chin towards her. She finds your lips once more, holding you in a sweet kiss for a little before releasing you.

“Fuck me however you want… Just promise that you’ll cum in me this time.”

You smiled.

“Of course Joy…” You affirmed her. “Let’s get you undressed.”

Her soaking wet shorts were off in a flash, her skin-tight top following closely behind. Joy undid the strings of your shorts, pulling them down to let your hard cock spring out. Her hand gripped your shaft, slender fingers squeezing your member gently as she stroked you lazily.

“The usual?” She asked. You nodded, feeling a little bit of Deja vu. Joy’s hand left your cock, planting itself behind her. She flipped herself belly down, her big juicy ass raised and presented for you. You pulled your shorts down past your knees before positioning yourself behind Joy. She looked back at you, that devilish smile on her face as you slapped your cock against her ass.

“Put it in…” She whispered.

“Patience, Joy… You’re always in such a hurry,” You told her, taking your time to line yourself up with her slit. While you were aching to enter her, a dark part in you took pleasure in making the girl beg.

“Please… Please just put in already…” She implored, a wanton expression wiping the smile off her face. You finally relented.

You pushed your tip in, parting her flushed, pink lips as the rest of your cock slid into Joy’s cunt with ease. You groaned, hands gripping the full cheeks of her ass as you hilted yourself in her tight walls. It was pure bliss.

“God… You’re always so fucking tight Joy,” You hissed, spanking her with an open palm. She yelped in delight, ass rippling under the impact.

“Fuck me…” She gasped. She was so full of need and lust.

You did as she requested. Your hips popped back, your shaft redrawing from her slick momentarily before spearheading right back into the depths of her cunt. You gave her no time to adjust, quickly establishing a rough, frantic, carnal pace and taking her pussy. Joy was gasping, crying, screaming in delight, her ass rippling hypnotically with each deep stroke you made. Her little body rocked, the warmth of her ass cushioning your crotch with each entrance. Her hands dug into the sand, fingers buried deep in the grains to hold her steady as you pounded her tight little pussy mercilessly. Her walls sucked you in, pulling you deeper and deeper into her till you could feel the warmth of her core on the tip of your cock. Jolts of pleasure shot up your spine and through your nervous system.

Joy lowered her upper body to the ground, deepening the angle of your frantic thrusts into her. You reached down, hands quickly locating her swaying breasts and cupping them. You played with her soft ample mounds, relishing Joy’s curves in your palms.

“Oh fuck Joy… You take my cock so well,” You grunted.

“My body… Was made to take your cock,” She hissed back. “This pussy is yours. Take my slutty little pussy like it’s yours.”

She made eye contact with you for the nth time. The look in her eyes made something snap inside of you.

Your palm left her tits, pushing down on the small of Joy’s back. Her face dug into the mat, her thighs spreading even further to take you deeper into her folds. She screams your name, begging you for more.

You doubled down on Joy, your slick shaft emerging and disappearing between her slick pussy lips. Her hand reached between your bodies, rubbing frantically at her clit.

“Oh fuck fuck fuck! Fuck me fuck me fuck me!” She cried, sounding breathless. She was enjoying every last second of her treatment. The waves crashed against the shore, doing little to mask the screams of pleasure escaping from Joy’s lips.

You fucked Joy into the sand, taking control of her body as you bent over her to keep her pinned between you and the mat.

“How does it feel Joy?” You growled into her ear. “How does it feel being fucked like a dirty little slut?”

Joy struggled to answer.

“It feels… So… Fucking good…”

The pure filth coming from her mouth spurred you, making you fuck her faster, harder… You wanted to fuck her senseless like you always did. Joy loved taking your cock till her mind went blank. Be it in the office, in between her own sheets or even in a car, she relished the feel of your cock stretching her out and fucking her till her brain rattled in her skull. There was no such thing as “Slow” when you were with Joy.

Your hand gripped her ponytail, yanking back hard till her head was looking straight ahead.

“I’m gonna fucking cum Joy,” You hissed. “I’m gonna fucking cum inside your tight little cunt.”

“Yes yes yes… Do it! Fill me! I need it so fucking bad!” She grunted. Your hand leaves her hair, both hands gripping her wide hips roughly as you give Joy all you had.

Your orgasm almost made you black out. You buried yourself as deep as you could inside Joy’s body, struggling to keep your upper body upright. Your cock spasmed and pulsated, your body quivering and shaking — absolutely overwhelmed by pleasure. Joy’s sighs drowned out the noises around you, a dull ring in your ears as you pumped your load into her awaiting cunt. It takes an eternity for you to recover. When you do, Joy was quick to request for more.

“I want it in my ass next…” She told you. Through your sweat-matted hair, you managed a grin.

“Coming right up.”

You wouldn’t be going back into the water for quite some time.

~~~~

A cool evening breeze ruffled your hair, rustling the leaves of trees behind you as you sat on the deck with Joy. Her head rested on your shoulder, mouth busy chewing on the piece of meat in her mouth. There was a pleasant silence between the two of you, both of you silently listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

“Feed me another piece,” Joy requested. You gladly obliged, poking a slice of grilled meat with your fork and bringing it to her mouth. She bit it off your fork, chewing happily.

“You know… I think we should do this more often,” She told you between bites.

“There’s a limit on the number of times we can call in sick Joy,” You reminded her.

“Ah who fucking cares,” She said. “We can probably find other loopholes in the system.”

You chuckled.

“I guess so,” You mused. She tapped your hand. You fed her another piece of meat.

A deep sigh left her mouth. You risked a glance down, noting the look of content on her face as she stared out into the sea. The sun was setting just past the horizon, an orangish-golden glow illuminating the surface of the water. The sunlight blended with the deep blue water of the sea, the sun reflected on the surface of the water. It was… Oddly romantic.

“Thanks for coming out with me today,” Joy said. “I really appreciate it.”

You smiled.

“No problem Soo-young,” You replied. “I needed this break either way.”

Joy giggled.

“I know. So did I.”

“So was I always meant to be invited?” You questioned.

“Hm… Maybe.”

You feigned offence. Joy laughed and smacked your arm playfully.

“Well… Intended or not, I’m glad you asked me to come,” You told her sincerely. Her expression softened.

“That’s great… Would’ve been a waste if you didn’t,” She replied.

Your eyes met hers. For once, past the cheekiness, past the lust and past the mischief, you saw a faint glimmer of… something behind her gaze. Something stirred in you.

You looked back out towards the sea, feeling an odd sensation on your chest. You didn’t know what it was, but it made you hold Joy a little closer.

Maybe… Just maybe… You felt like the two of you were more than just friends with benefits.

-------------------

Hello. Hope you enjoyed this one. I had a little bit of a Joy overdose so...

Anyways, thanks for stopping by and reading! Have a great day!

#joy red velvet #park sooyoung #joy smut

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worriedvision · 2 months ago

Text

Wrong person! - Gorou

Gender neutral reader, reader is friends with Kazuha and is ecstatic to receive a message from their crush that he's asked them on a date. Angst here again sorry not sorry

Gorou: Hey, I was wondering if you'd have some time to go for a drink. I know you're busy, but if not I'd love to have some time with you!

When you receive that message, you gasp and excitedly show it to Kazuha, who seemed pleasantly surprised by your message from Gorou.

You had gushed to Kazuha about your feelings, and he could have sworn Gorou was just treating you the same way he treated anyone else. When you talk about his smile, and Kazuha happened to see from another angle his smile, he'd see that the smile happened because he saw someone else. He didn't want to tell you that he was just nice like that, so he was preparing mentally for telling you to cheer up with some sweet treats and lots of hugs. His comrades would be treated more favourably than yourself

"I'm so happy for you." Kazuha smiles as you quickly type a reply.

You: of course! It's been a while since we talked, and I would like to catch up as well!

The day comes along quick, and you've really made an effort to look nice - nice scent, outfit, some tasteful makeup and even planning your next meetup before this one started to sweep Gorou off his feet.

When Gorou shows up, he flashes you that smile you always gushed about and you wave him over, him happily jogging over before promptly ordering some drinks. It's like he gets a new light in his eyes, hopeful to start something new.

"Before we start, I have to admit something..." Gorou starts, laughing away his nerves before looking away. He can feel your confused eyes on him, and he immediately regrets bringing this up. The person he had asked out was his superior, he knew deep down he had no chance with them.

"You weren't meant to receive that message." He begins, you tilting your head in confusion.

"So what did you mean to type to me?" You ask, genuinely curious.

"...I didn't mean to send anything to you. I meant to-" before he can complete his sentence, he hears you tense up. Looking over, his heart sinks as he notices all of your enthusiasm for the day completely dissipate.

"...I see. Silly me!" You reply, flinching when you hear how loud the second half was. "I should have known you were just being nice to me, and it wasn't directed for me."

"Wait, please-" Gorou starts, you standing up. He wanted to be clear that he went on to ask the person he meant to ask, and they promptly and kindly turned him down and told him it wouldn't have worked out regardless because of the ranking difference.

"I'll avoid you, don't worry. I've been so stupid being excited for this." You babble out, tears actively rolling down your face not out of sadness, but rather the sheer embarrassment of knowing you were too stupid to see what everyone else did.

"_, let's give this-" Gorou tries to soften the blow, seeming to still want this drink. What happened with the conversation with his actual love interest, you didn't know.

But in this moment, you weren't curious. You didn't care anymore. You just wanted to leave, your tears causing you to be an obvious target for prying eyes. You feel like you're losing composure, and you see Gorou looking uncomfortable. You tell yourself in that moment you should have just waited before replying that quickly to the message. You feel yourself being lightly guided away by someone before they stop at a familiar stop. They wrap their arms around you, and a familiar voice soothes you.

"Let out your tears." Kazuha soothes. "There's no use bottling up this betrayal."

You didn't know what Kazuha was doing there, but you think he probably had the connections to know what was supposed to happen. Gorou couldn't even shoot you a quick 'so sorry, wrong person'. He could have even made up a lie saying he was too busy, or I'd he did want to meet up with you after the conversation not being up the intention at all!

"I really filled myself up for something that wasn't supposed to happen, how will I be able to show up to work with him knowing this?" You wail into his chest, Kazuha hushing you soothingly before wrapping his arms tightly around you.

"You'll realise that there are better bachelor's for you than him." Kazuha states. "People that do genuinely think of you more warmly than just a friend." Kazuha massages the back of your head, feeling you still tense.

"But for now, I think you need to focus on yourself and the many positives you possess."

#gorou angst #gorou x gender neutral reader #gorou x reader #gotiu #kazuha #angst

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guiltiestlove · 2 months ago

Note

Oughh this is similar-ish to ur latest post abt playing with simon's hair but imagine how its like for him to allow u to hold him for the first time .,.,.

walking in a winter wonderland <3

Simon Blackquill x gn!reader, ~1200 words

sfw BUT please still mdni with this blog!

cws/tags: 90% fluff, 10% hurt/comfort, mentions/short descriptions of simon’s prison sentence, crying, happy ending :)

notes: some pacing issues but i didnt plan for it to be this long, i just got really sappy LMAO

When he was first released from prison, Simon shied away from nearly everyone’s touch. Excluding Taka, he didn’t particularly feel the need for anyone else’s constant presence, especially in such close proximity.

At the beginning of his sentence, he would spend hours crying every day, absolutely despondent and unable to fathom how any of this had happened. But as the years went by, he figured out how to hide these feelings more and more. If he could push them down and harden himself to the outside world, he would be more in control of his destiny. It was the only way to survive, or rather, make sure those he cared about survived.

By some miracle he had been saved and justice, insomuch as anyone could call it, had been served. And though he felt vindicated, he had forgotten how to feel, how to let people in.

In the three years that had passed he had made incredible progress, surprisingly himself more than anyone else.

After years of holding back such fierce emotions, after burying everything that could make him feel vulnerable, he finally decided to let people in again. Completely, not just superficially. And for once he truly missed the feeling of someone comforting him. After all, those nights in that cold, empty cell had been so lonely.

Still, he was hesitant to start dating again, but he figured going out for tea barely counted anyway. He could still convince himself it was no big deal.

—

Your first date was simple, getting tea and taking a walk around the park. And it was comfortable. Like settling into your cozy bed at the end of a particularly grueling day.

You had been enamored with Simon Blackquill since the first time you had met the man, unbeknownst to him. Since you were colleagues, you told yourself you had to be professional and stepping out of line would be, well just ridiculous—presumptuous even.

Evidently you hadn’t hid your feelings as well as you thought, because the prosecutor bluntly—and rather confidently—asked you out not long afterwards.

And though you had your eye on him for a while, you honestly couldn’t have expected how well this date would go. Those around the office considered him to be cold and calculating, but you felt a warmth and charm emanating from him, especially as the brisk fall breeze now nipped at your heels.

More and more of Simon’s icy exterior melted off as he quipped back at you, and you found yourself just wanting to know more, to spend more time with the man. To stoke the growing fire within him.

And surely he must have felt the same considering he admitted he hadn’t felt this open talking to someone in years.

With each passing day the two of you found yourselves wanting to be in each other’s company more and more. And to your delight with any free time the two of you had, it was more often than not spent together.

—

It was now the dead of winter, and you were back in the park you had visited months ago for your first date.

The crisp air and bright white snow made it feel like a fairytale, and you couldn’t help but get a little choked up into your hot chocolate as your feet padded into the snow. Here you were again, alongside Simon, sipping a drink that warmed you to your core—it felt overwhelmingly simple but beautiful somehow.

Simon, puzzled by your teary eyes, was worried something had gone wrong, so he spoke up.

”Are you feeling alright? Do you need my coat? The wind has been howling more than expec—“ You placed your hand on his. “No, no, Simon. I’m just…This is really nice. I’m simply…really happy.”

Your eyes sparkled, welling up as you smiled up at Simon, your boyfriend? The man you had been dating? Your really good colleague? It didn’t matter, this was a picture perfect day.

A look came across his face that you hadn’t seen before. One of confusion, then surprise, then understanding mixed with relief.

He took a few steps and sat down on one of the benches beside the little frozen pond. Pausing for a moment, he then turned to you. He was expectantly waiting for you to join him.

And so you did.

When you sat down, he closed the space between the two of you and partially removed his coat so he could drape it over your shoulder. He seemed more relaxed than usual. And somehow more tired. Like he could finally rest.

You adjusted the coat over your shoulder and waited patiently for him to move—after all the most physical contact the two of you had had was the time you had arm wrestled him.

He sighed, “I didn’t want to lose you. I… Frankly, I wasn’t sure that you felt the same.” You lit up at him finally addressing his feelings and again placed your hand on his, gently letting your thumb sweep across his cold skin. He looked to you with such a weary, but relieved face. “Oh, Simon…I wish I would have said something sooner…” You were eager, but still cautious to follow his lead.

He turned away from you and whispered something you couldn’t hear. “Hmm? What did you say?” You gave his hand a little squeeze. He perked up slightly, but still faced away from you. “Can you… Tsk…Nevermind…” he trailed off as he now looked at the ground.

You gave him a little nudge with your head and replied, “Can I what, Simon?” Again, he sighed, but you waited patiently.

“Can you just…hold me?”

Your arms shot up so fast around him it probably should have scared the both of you, but truthfully everything was overshadowed by how safe he finally was beginning to feel.

On that park bench you held him, with your head on his shoulder, and his head rested on yours, and it finally felt like so many of the clouds that had been looming over him were lifting. And you could feel the tightness in his chest slowly begin to release as tears fell onto the top of your head. And in that awkward position you rubbed Simon’s back until his arms were around you too and it began to get dark.

“Simon?”

”Yes?”

”It’s starting to get cold…you know it’s nice and warm at my apartment…”

You finally untangled yourselves from each other, and Simon was looking at you with his usual grin, albeit nose and eyes a bit puffier than usual. “Well, I would hate to catch frostbite. Especially considering you need my coat.”

Rising from the bench, he finished taking off his coat and placed it on your shoulders—it was so warm and completely enveloped your frame, not to mention it smelled heavenly. He reached out his hand as he continued, “What do you say?”

You had to laugh at how he was able to bounce back so quickly. “You’re such a perfect gentleman,” you teased as you grabbed his hand in yours and stood up, dusting the snow off yourself.

It was a perfect day, and the hollow feeling inside Simon’s chest felt a little smaller. And every day it was filled more.

#only like 2.5 months late 😭#this was really cute and fun i love simon so much #🖤🪶#mdni #my writing #simon blackquill x reader #writing requests #anons welcome

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anothertransauthor · 1 year ago

Note

Can I get a trans Pickles x reader?

Hi, yes, I'm sorry this took so long! I’ve been working constantly this week, and on top of that, I wanted this fic to be its best (a lot of restarting half way through because I couldn’t continue it, and alooooot of proofreading—haha!) That being said, all other writing will be slow because I am a slow writer! Other than this one (it's on the shorter end of the spectrum), expect a thousand and up in word counts! That being said 2.0 please don’t be discouraged from requesting more! I love all of the ideas coming from you when I’m not writing something myself in the meantime! And yes, I will continue the ABC! List both SFW and NSFW! Someone's gonna have to show me how to make a master list.

Trans! Pickles x Reader

Summary: just your state-of-the art Pickles comfort. Pickles has trouble asking for help when he needs it the most. Oh, and the reader also works with the show's production team.

Warnings: depictions of gender dysphoria, implied familial transphobia, description of surgery scars, reader with no specified gender

Word Count: 1,014 words

Pickles had always been open and rather accepting of everyone he'd ever had a conversation with, you included. Always the one to help others relax, always the one to listen, always the one to hold you with open arms. Something in you has always had the inclination in the back of your mind that he was projecting that same protection he craved for himself, but any time he starts to open up, something conveniently happens to interrupt him, or he shuts down completely. Always the reliable one, always putting everyone else first, always the rock.

You and Nathan were the first to notice his spiral when it first started. First, he was unusually snappy over little things when they were recording. He started waking up earlier and earlier, until he seemed to stop sleeping all together. Despite your pleas to take care of himself or talk to him, he kept insisting everything was okay. Always stable, always responsible, always cool.

His mask slipped completely one day during a show; maybe it was the lights, maybe it was the heat, maybe it was the fans glaring eyes staring at him like they knew something. The show was cancelled that day, and he locked himself in the broom closet in the makeup room. And now here you were, sitting with your back against the door, listening to the muted sniffles as pickles tried to hold it together. Always collected, always relaxed, always…quiet….

"I’m sorry..." Those were the first words you heard from outside the door; you weren't even sure he knew you were there. You sat up straighter and faced the door now, one hand on the cheap wood that separated you. "Don’t be sorry, dude. Nathan and Skwisgaar have handled the situation with the fans."

"No- no… y/n-- I'm sorry for shutting you and everyone else out... I'm a fuckin hypocrite."His voice cracked and shuddered again; you could hear him shifting uncomfortably before he spoke again.

"The band didn't deserve this... You sure as hell didn't deserve this—hell you made this show happen tonight, and I blew it."

You didn't know how to respond for a second; this was the first time you'd ever heard him so broken before. Lost in your own head, you almost didn't hear him knock on the door the first time to get your attention.

"Are you still there?"

"yeah—! Yeah, I-I’m still here, doodle... Can I join you in there? We can keep the lights off—"

Before you even finished your sentence, the door had opened, and Pickles' strong arm had pulled you inside. Just like you offered, the lights remained off. But you could still make out his outline in the shadows, and that was enough for you as you took his hand in yours.

The two of you stayed that way for what felt like forever, before the redhead took a deep breath and said, "My mom called me some days ago... "I guess I had left a drunk voicemail or somethin’— called me an even bigger disappointment than the day I told her I..." He choked up and pulled his knees to his chest. Your heart broke at the sight as your eyes adjusted and you could see him better. He looked like a kid again, dejected and lost. "I know I can never make her see me that way, but I’ve tried everything else to get her to love me—even just the facade of who she wants me to be."

There was a thunk as Pickle let his head fall back against the door. He pulled his hand away so he could push his palms against his eyes in an attempt to force his thoughts into order.

"I didn't mean to fall this far... Man, I'm fucked, aren't I?"He laughed humorlessly before his eyes met yours in the dark: "I'm supposed to be the one helping anyone else with this... I'm fuckin' famous; I stopped worrying about how I'm perceived. If you told me when I was 16 that I didn't have to live my life in a binder—I'd fuckin laugh at ye…."

A hand took yours and brought it to his chest, and though it was over his shirt, your hand could almost feel the scars on his chest. You'd memorized it well; it didn't define who he was, but it did make him beautiful in your eyes.

"I hear you, loud and clear, Pickles." Your words felt hushed as his heartbeat thrummed against your fingertips, but he understood you well. Fresh tears welled in his green eyes as he pulled you fully into his lap, hiding his face in your shoulder. Moments like these usually require very few words; any string of sentences couldn’t convey what either needed to say exactly what they wanted anyway.

Your hands cupped Pickles’ face, your fingers gently massaging the weak spot behind his ear. He groaned appreciatively as both of you sat like that; the sounds of the show getting cleaned up were hardly muffled through the thin door.

"Oh man… Charles is so gonna have my ass." He groaned weakly when he decided he was done sitting in the rank ass broom closet.

"Don’t be so sure... Nathan will get to you first," you tried to tease, shoulders easing slightly at the sound of his familiar scoff, "he's been worried about you too... Don’t tell him I told you."

You could still sense his unease as his chin moved; he was looking at the wall now.

"Hey, look at me." You pulled him back to you, his face now clear in the shadows, as you skillfully wiped the fresh beads from his eyes.

"You’re not alone any more... You made it," you reassured him lovingly. "We can be strong for you sometimes."

Pickles hugged you tight, taking his first smooth breath since he'd calmed down. You kissed his head and down his cheeks before ghosting your lips over his. He smiled against you; his smile was always contagious. You had to suppress a giggle before giving him exactly what he wanted, holding him as you did.

#metalocalypse #dethklok #x reader #dethklok x reader #pickles the drummer #pickles x reader #pickles the drummer x reader #trans pickles #might write something self indulgent after this #savory or sad it’s yours to decide #what’s next?

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idontplaytrack · 9 months ago

Note

Can I request super flirty Amber x reader where Amber's flirting with reader but they are oblivious and eventually Amber can't take it anymore and kisses reader

Pretty Girl

Amber Appleton x fem! reader

Warnings: fluff, coarse language, kissing

Amber calls reader ‘pretty girl’— always have. But when exactly did that take a turn and become flirting instead of being platonic?

As the thunder roared outside, you were wrapped up under your blanket, comfy— no, sick and exhausted. You had just started your period the night before and have been tormented by the cramps ever since. The pain was so bad, it made you nauseous. You were also, hungry, bloated and craving all sorts of things that you wanted to eat, but at the same time…not really. It was confusing. You hated it, all of this— How terrible you were feeling. So much for a peaceful weekend.

Somehow, you felt yourself dozing off so you snuggled closer to your pillow and hoped you’d fully fall asleep. But hey, of course not. You felt the vomit creeping up your throat before you leaned over the bed and the trashcan, barely making it and letting it spill into the plastic under your mouth. It’s not like you much of anything left in your stomach, but did that stop you from feeling absolutely shitty? No way. Lazily cleaning off your mouth with a tissue you’d grabbed from the box on your nightstand, you stayed on your stomach, and just slept. Tried to, at least.

You woke up after what must’ve been no more than an hour, the rain had started to pour which would typically be the ideal for staying in, getting cosy and just lazing around. But now, you wanted nothing more than to get out of bed and do something with your day. Alas, you could not exactly move. The doorbell rings, making you groan. “It’s pouring out there. Who is it?!” You shrieked, scarily near tears.

The intercom buzzes, “It’s Amber!”

Shit.

You quite literally forced yourself out of bed and walk downstairs, your knees nearly buckled when you first stood up. God, why’d she have to show up now? You got to the door as fast as you could and opened it to let her in.

“Took you awhile.” She says while stepping into the house, “Hi, pretty girl.”

“Sorry.” You muttered, “I’m not—”

“Feeling too well?” She finishes your sentence, “I figured. Wish you would’ve told me.”

You slowly sat down on the couch, groaning, “How’d you know anyway?”

“Honey, I’ve known you, what? Fifteen years now? Give me some credit.”

“So you just figured out I was on my period and decided to show up at my door with…chocolate chip cookies?”

“Yeah, I took a guess.” Amber chuckles, “It’s not that hard to predict it, you know? You always get it around this time of the month.”

“Oh, how nice of you to know that.” You scoffed, leaning forward and burying your face in your hands.

“Did you eat anything?”

You gulped, “Nope, not since dinner last night. Also, I threw that up so please don’t talk about eating.”

Amber sits down beside you, a hand on your head and massaging it, “I’m sorry.” She then guided you to lay on her lap carefully.

You smiled at her a little, it quickly falls though, when you felt another cramp. “Are you sure you don’t want to take something for it?” Amber asks you softly.

“I can, but it’ll just come back up in a few minutes so I’d rather just wait it out.”

You haven’t seen Amber in awhile, honestly. But you knew she had like three part-time jobs that last time you asked her about it. So you figured that was what she was busy with. Oh, and by ‘awhile’, you meant like— at most two weeks. You two haven’t spent much time apart ever. And that’s considering the fact that she has her own little group of friends. You saw them pretty often too, and you knew them but you never really got that close with them even after all this time. But because you were Amber’s best friend, you were always hanging out with them anyway.

Damn, maybe you should really just open your mouth and talk to them more. They were really nice people.

“What’s wrong?” Amber asks, noticing that you’ve gone quiet.

“Oh, nothing. Just thinking about…stuff.”

“Oh, yeah? What kinda stuff, honey?” She looks down at you, bright smile on her face while her eyes formed into little crescents. Her hand was still stroking your hair.

“Random things…I dunno. Like how I gotta talk to your friends more and stop just floating around.” You hummed, “How I haven’t gotten to hang out with you for like two weeks because you’ve been working so many shifts. God, I hope you’re getting enough rest.”

Amber chuckles, “I’m fine. I quit the third job.”

“You did? When?” You ask, absentmindedly playing with the ring on the fingers of her free hand.

“Uh…” She says, her hand in your hair stops moving. You sulked, and she continues the soothing gesture but not without a tiny little laugh. “Like, three weeks ago?”

“Wow, and what have you been up to lately that I couldn’t get to see you?” You joked.

“Shut up, babe.” She giggles. You gasped dramatically and instantly paid for it when you got attacked by yet another cramp, “Babe? That’s a new one.”

She nearly snorted, laughing. Amber’s brows were raised briefly, “You really are so…”

“Don’t yell at me.”

“I’m not gonna yell at you, when have I ever done that?” She squints.

“Well, my mom just did this morning after I told her my cramps were terrible.” You scoffed.

“Do I look like your Mom to you?” Amber couldn’t help but laugh, “Has the pain somehow jumbled up your brain so bad that you’re just saying anything and everything?”

You didn’t know what to say to that you just kept quiet and snuggled more comfortably against her lap, now laying on your side. “Maybe.”

“That’s okay, pretty girl.” You could hear the smile, “I’m sorry you’re not feeling good.”

————

As you laid sleepily in her lap, Amber’s mind started to wander— seemingly recalling every single time she had hung out with you, analysing each day out, and night in…desperately trying to figure something out.

“You’re so pretty.” Amber says, tucking some hair behind your ear.

“Shut up.” You laugh, “I just tried to eat a donut while the wind was blowing in my face. Now I have powdered sugar in my hair.”

“I said what I said.”

“Yeah, yeah. Thanks, Ams.” You didn’t think too much into her little compliment— she says stuff like this all the time. Just to make you smile and giggle. “You’re pretty too.”

~~~~~

Walking through a crowded flea market, your eyes checked out each stall closely, not wanting to miss a good buy. Somehow, you feel an arm wrap around your waist. “Be careful. There’s a lot of people around.” It was Amber. Typical Amber being a worrywart.

~~~~~

“Amber?” You say in a hurry once she picked up your call.

“y/n, it’s 1:30 in the morning.” Amber replied, obviously just woken up by you, “What’s wrong, y/n?”

“Can we go get ice cream?”

“What?” She could not believe her ears. Amber could not believe that you called her at this hour just for that. But hey, she was so relieved that was all it was. Relieved that you weren’t sick or hurt.

“Can we go get ice cream? Please?” You repeated yourself.

“Okay, pretty girl.” She laughs, “I’ll pick you up in fifteen minutes.”

You squealed, “Yay, okay.”

~~~~~~

“Amber, can you help me do my hair? I like when you do it.”

“Okay.”

~~~~~

“Amber, will you please do my makeup? I suck at it.” You groaned.

“Sure, honey.” Amber had her usual smile on her face, “Turn around.”

~~~~~

“Need some help?” Amber asks, watching you struggle to put a necklace on by yourself.

You finally saw her in the reflection and said, “Please.” Handing it to her, she took it from you and pushed your hair in front of one shoulder. Smoothly, she puts the necklace on for you in a matter of seconds.

“There you go.” She smiles, leaning her chin on your shoulder for a beat, her eyes looked at the heart pendant on your necklace then somehow wandered onto your chest. Mentally chiding herself, she gives you a quick hug from behind and then unwrapped her arms, “You ready for your date?”

“Not really.” You admit.

“Aw, you got this, pretty girl.” She gives you a squeeze on the shoulder, “Ben’s really nice.”

“You would know.” You managed a chuckle, “You insisted that you met him first.”

“Of course. He has to be good enough for you.”

~~~~~~

You were at the mall with Amber one Saturday afternoon after having spent the night at her place in the spur of the moment. Actually, that was the last time you saw her before today. So, anyway…because you didn’t have a change of clothes, you were wearing Amber’s clothes. Which was very, very different from your own style.

“Will you stop?” Amber laughs, swinging your hand as she held it, “You look good, okay?”

“Pfft, right.”

“Right.”

~~~~~

Or maybe…the defining moment was right now. Seeing you so pale, so disheveled. Yet, she was completely enamoured by you. She didn’t tell you though. She couldn’t. Because she knew how you’d react. You’d just think she was joking and brush it off. Nothing romantic’s happened between you and Amber, but yet lately, there’s always been the presence of tension from Amber’s point of view.

You on the other hand seemed completely oblivious to her being a little distant for the past two weeks while trying to work through her feelings and piece together what on Earth she wanted to say to you. She could only pray this wasn’t one-sided. Amber loved you too much to mess things up, that was why she said she was busy and didn’t see you for those three weeks. But at the same time, her patience was slowly but surely growing thin. Yet she still couldn’t quite figure out exactly when her calling you ‘pretty girl’ started to have a different effect on her— when she started to get excited to call you that, hoping you’d react the way she wanted you to. But you never did. So she threw in a new nickname, and you were still way too chill about it.

————

Amber didn’t know where that courage came from but…

“y/n?” She said quietly, wanting to get your attention but didn’t want to startle you.

Your eyes came into focus again, meeting her face, “Yeah?”

“I’m in love with you.” She reveals, and before you could even process her declaration, you feel her lips on your own— so soft, and so gentle. So addictive. Fuck.

You’d completely just gave into it, letting her take control as your hand reached up to cup her cheek. It was a bit of an odd position, but you were evidently still in too much pain to move.

“You do?” You tried breaking away for a second to speak but she doesn’t allow it, eagerly reconnecting your lips again. Amber did nod her head, reciprocating with increasingly passionate kisses.

“I fucking love you. I’m not sure when it started, but I am.” She literally speaks into the kiss. And upon hearing that, you could not let her lips go. That was all Amber needed from you. She didn’t even need to hear it— she was too riled up for that now, wanting nothing more than the constant feeling of your lips against hers.

After a mutual breakaway several minutes later, you were breathless and so was she. “So…” She started. “I meant every word I just said. Everything I just did. I want you, y/n, to be my girlfriend.”

“Okay.” You nodded, unknowingly, teary-eyed. “I’m sorry I didn’t realise sooner.”

Amber smiled so widely hearing your response, “It’s okay, pretty girl.” Now in tears, she sniffles and presses a sweet kiss to your forehead, “I have you now.”

“You do.” You nodded, mirroring her smile.

“I love you.” She says, her palm pressing lightly on your lower abdomen to give it some warmth and relief. “Does that help?”

You nodded almost too sleepily, “Yeah. Can you keep doing that please?”

“Of course.” Amber agrees, “Close your eyes, get some rest. I’ll wake you up when lunch is done.”

“No, don’t get up.” You slurred.

“I promise I won’t. Not until you’ve fallen asleep. Then, I’ll make us lunch. Okay, pretty girl?”

“Okay, Ams…okay.”

She chuckles over her words hearing how sleepy you were, “Okay. Sleep tight.”

————

🏷️ Tag list:

@ashecampos @auliisflower @cheesysoup-arlo @frogs00 @reneeswif3 @ludoesartnstuffs @pda128

————

I’m distracting y’all from the fact that the AJ x reader x Capri isn’t even halfway done six days later

Also don’t know how to write a flirty Amber— I’m sorry🥲

#auli’i cravalho #amber appleton #all together now netflix #netflix #alternative universe #gxg #wlw #reader insert #x reader #lgbtqia #queer #female reader #anon request #requested fic #wlw fanfic #fanfiction #friends to lovers

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ashara-rise · 6 months ago

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Im starting a Fic for C.A.S i hope ya like it!!!!!

@somerandomdudelmao I finally finished chap 1!!! I hope u like it!! Explanation:What If during the fight (during preset time) Casey was infected/poisoned by the Krang while helping keep them at bay while Leo was fighting Krang? But it didn't affect him quickly due to F!Draxum always feeding Casey Ancient Demonic Flowers?

-"Oh no...no no no no no no NO!"- Casey was standing Infront of the sink staring at what he had coughed up, the fear entering his body -"Krang..."- on his hand was HIS BLOOD right!? then why the hell was there that same haunting color the day Uncle Tello told us of his illness, it didn't make sense!! *His whole body was trembling*

-"I can't let them know. well not now at least not until I know what going on. I don't want to make them all worry like how they worried for Uncle Tello..."- What was he supposed to do!? who could he go to!? He can't go to his uncles or their Past Selves!

Then it hit him. Draxum. He'll go to Draxum. -"He must know something right? But how am I going to get to him without Uncles finding out? I'm sure Uncle Tello has a tracker on me. I'll find it then leave to Draxum's"- He washed the blood from his hands then started searching himself.

_-30 Mins Laters-_

He found the Tracker at last! that took way longer than expected. He packed his things and left the Track in his bed with pillows to seem like he was just sleeping then he snuck off, it was late anyway they would all be asleep but just in case he snuck out extra quietly.

"Made it!" He was standing in front of Draxum's spare lab sense his uncles had taken residence in his other one, He knocked on the door waiting rather impatiently for it to open.

*Creaaakkk* "What do you want child." It was Draxum in his robe with a mug of coffee in hand, He was looking down towards Casey.

"Mister Draxum PLEASE help!! I was coughing then it got really bad!thenIcoughedupbloodanditwasthekrangIthinkandimscared-" Draxum shoved it finger in Casey's face to stop his rambling before speaking himself "Can you calm down and speak normally I can't understand that utter nonsense, use a simple sentence to describe what I'm dealing with."

"I think the Krang infected me with something during the fight and now im really worried." Casey looked to Draxum almost in tears but fighting it back Draxum stared at him blankly before going back to a stern gaze and shoving him inside his lab. "Casey Come. Tell me the Detail"

Casey followed him before being seated in a odd looking chair and being questioned about details on he's health

_-After Casey Explained-_

"Ok Casey I will get in a large amount of trouble with your uncles but let run some tests and find out what's going on." Draxum was grabbing some needles of different sizes

"D-do you really need THAT many needles...!?" Casey looked in horror at the amount

"Yes. i need blood samples of many sizes to figure out what going on. Now sit still and stop complaining this will take a long time." Draxum moved towards Casey with a needle in hand

_-Back with the F!Turtles-_

Leo and Donnie, we're the first ones up today with Donnie checking the security and Leo finding something to eat, It over felt like a normal morning but something felt off..

not long after Mikey and Raph woke up, Mikey went to cook seeing as Leo was failing again to make some actually edible to eat and not burnt to a crisp. It was around and hour until Raph asked the question. "Hey Were's Casey?? Raph's not seen him all morning." He looked to Leo and Donnie who were arguing about something stupid, both looked up at Raph and Mikey popped his head in from the kitchen then it hit them all.

Casey wasn't up.

no wonder it felt off. Donnie checks his tracker, "Casey Jr is still sleeping by the looks of where he is" Mikey left the kitchen volunteering to wake him up.

Not long after he came running back yelling "CASEY IS GONE!" This got everyone's attention and in unison they all screamed "WHAT"

"No that can't be Casey Jr's tracker says he's there did you look properly Angelo??" Donnie looked at Mikey, Mikey shot him a look. "Of course I did! Plus look at what I found under his blankets!" Mikey held up the small tracker which caused a look of confusion and concern in Donnie and the others.

"How could Case even get it off D? Don't you hide them really good?? I haven't even found mine!" Leo exclaimed

"I don't know Leo! It shouldn't be possible unless he was actively looking for it!" Donnie was not looking through the camera footage until he saw it, Casey had snuck out but to where was the question

They all split up after that and where to meet up after an hour of searching for Casey

_-1 Hour later-_

No luck. Not with their counterparts, April, nor the main place in the Yokai City. Where could he be. They were all together thinking on places he could have gone. then they remembered they hadn't checked with one person.

Draxum.

Link: A Shocking Discovery - Chapter 1 - Ashara_Rise - Multifandom [Archive of Our Own]

#cass apocalyptic series #cass apocalypse fic #cass apocalyptic au #fanfic #first fanfic

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tmwcs · 2 years ago

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Toy Story - Teaser JakexReader

Okay so an anon ask had me remembering of a teaser i started for Jakes story, but had never finished it...until now. Please also note, the title of this series has nothing to do with Pixar's animated series lol.

Warnings: MDNI18+ (no smut, but smut related things are implied) this story will have chapters that will contain smut...*ahem* just read the teaser and you'll see.

Not proofread, i just went ahead and finished this asap so i could get it out to yall since its long overdue. This takes place in the same AU as MGR/MRE/HHP and HeethanxReaden are referenced and will make appearances in future chapters. Readen will be referred to as h/n or Eden. enjoy!

With a tender kiss to your lips, all your hesitation and worries disintegrated.

“There. Better?” he inquires as he gently embraces your waistline.

“H-how…since when were you…like this?”

“Mm-well…since I was old enough to grasp and understand the concept of sex and relationships, I guess.”

You and Jake had been dating for about a month now. Having just moved here, transferring to your new college so you could be closer to him, you started to wonder if perhaps you had taken steps way too early. Yet…

‘Did I? Is it truly wrong? He’s so caring and loving to me…does that all change just because he told me his secret?”

“Jake…I don’t regret a thing…but I can’t lie to you. I’m not sure how I feel about your…your-“

“…Sexual deviance.” He softly finishes for you, after taking notice that you had a hard time completing your sentence. Laughing as he bit down on his lip, a habitual trait he commonly does, he leans in and rests his chin on top of your head.

“Yeah…I get it. Which is why I never really told anyone…but I love you. I won’t ever do anything that would make you feel uncomfortable.”

Your curiosity peaked, considering that you were a virgin when you met him, he was your first, in regards to various acts of intimacy. But he didn’t display any sense of being a deviant, not one bit. In fact, he performed and conducted the act in a rather normal way, as normal as sex could get at least.

“What…um…what types of…sexual deviancy are you…like into?” you felt uncomfortable for asking, but you couldn’t like that him relaying his secret to you made you feel relaxed around him, enough to ask him such a personal question.

Moving his head back, he slightly tilts it as he looks at you before looking off to the side, tucking his lips and licking them in the process.

“Well…I definitely have a fetish…quite a few of them actually.” He scoffs a handsome smile towards you, tapping his fingertip on your nose. “I also like to touch…and be touched. I like to see you naked more than clothed, even if you’re wearing my favorite outfit. In my opinion…you look better naked and wrapped in straps of leather than you do with any one of your pretty dresses…” his voice trailed off, his smile gradually fades.

“Do I have to worry about….will you try to like…hurt me?”

Laughing, he shakes his head as he kisses your nose.

“No baby, I don’t have a pain kink. That seems to be Heeseung’s thing.”

You nodded and chuckled, what he said was true, his friend ‘Heeseung’ but whom you refer to as Ethan, his English name, definitely had a side to him that you caught a glimpse of. It the way his eyes changed, going from a wide eyed, almost like a cherub, yet they would morph into a harsh narrow shape, stabbing out a dark and deadly gaze.

Ethan was quiet, and very scary, yet, he always seemed to be tamed by his new girlfriend, H/N, the pretty girl that shares some of the same classes as you. Though they’ve only been dating for a few days, you could tell that there was a different side to Ethan ever since he started dating her. You wondered if you could have that same effect on Jake.

“So you’re not into pain?”

“Nope. Just intense pleasure and some other stuff.”

“Like…like bondage?”

Jake raised his brows in amusement at your audacious inquiry.

“Why do you ask? Do you really want to know?” he teases you before leaning in and whispering the remainder of his words into your ear. “Do you want…to be laced in leather straps…and watch me take my time in pleasing myself to you? Because if you do…I’ve got a collection…some that are fitted just for you, doll.” He peels his head back, cradling the back of your hair with his hand as he rubs your arm.

“You don’t need to worry or think too much about it. If you’re willing to….then just take your time in getting to know more about me. It’s not my intentions to scare you, I just wanted to be honest because…you make me feel a certain type of way that…it just makes me go crazy sometimes. I can’t hide it from you anymore, I want to share it with you…have you a part of it…appreciate me for the way I am.”

At times like this one, you’re reminded as to why you fell for him. He was gentle, caring, understanding, and not at all demanding or possessive like his friend Ethan.

‘How does h/n even deal with him? That man is so scary and even though he cares about her, his obsession just adds more to his intimidating aura…at least with Jake, I don’t have to worry about that. He just has…some deep sexual preferences. I suppose I can deal with that better than the traits Ethan has, though it seems like it fits H/n, being that she is happy and loves him. If she can love Ethan for who he is…then I can still love Jake for who he is.’

‘The anti-hero, eh?’

You had to hand it to h/n, for someone of her age and level of experience with life, or lack thereof for a better term, she really spoke in great wisdom. She claimed it was all through her father, since he was older and always enhanced their bond by molding her to be an open-minded person. She was so lucky to have such a figure in her life, whereas with you, you weren’t so fortunate.

Your mother was the only parental figure you’ve known, your father being absent since your birth, yet you never really cared enough to put any thought to it, until you met h/n and saw the result of what a father could do for his little girl. At least you have her to consult with…because at the end of the day, she was right, Ethan was the anti-hero, but that didn’t change Jake from remaining as the hero of your life.

Thanking h/n for her input, you remained at the library for just a bit longer before texting Jake, asking him to pick you up.

“I’m ready babe.”

“Okay doll, will be right over.”

After you got back to his frat room, he carried on with his routine habit of asking where you wanted to eat for dinner while he settles his paperwork on the desk.

“Jake?...”

“What’s up doll?”

“Could you…show me…?”

“Show you what?”

“…I took some time to think about what you said…about sharing your secret…having me become a part of it…and loving you for who you are.” You paused as you found it much harder to speak than you originally had thought.

“I am willing…I really am. It’s all new to me…but I don’t want you to hold back…love me like how you truly want to love. I’m in this for the long run…and I don’t want to lose you. I’m willing…to learn and understand all aspects of your love. So please…show me…right now.”

Tilting his head in surprise, he raises his brows and was left speechless with his mouth gawking.

“……you sure?” he asked, his words heavy with his accent as he takes a knee and submits himself before you, holding your hands.

“ you sure, doll? I don’t mind if you need more time to-“

“no…I want to. Please…show me.” You gently cut him off, eager to embrace this man fully for who he was.

Kissing you atop the tip of your nose, he looks you in the eyes before standing up.

Walking over to his closet, he pulls the door open and reaches up to grab onto something, you weren’t sure what it was since it had been wrapped in a large cloth. Setting it down for a moment, he walks over and lights the series of scented candles he had decorating his room. Reaching over by the entrance, he shuts the lights off, leaving the room illuminated by the candles alone.

‘Huh...so that’s why he has them in his room…no wonder.’

After flicking the lights off, he walks over to each window, and shuts the black satin curtains. His choice of tapestry was another indicator you didn’t give much thought about, at least not until now. The smooth shine of the fabric reeked of sexual passion, not to mention that, when paired with the dimmed candlelit room, it enumerated a sense of desire and lust in full imagery.

After shutting each curtain, he walks back over and removes the item from the cloth wrap. Turning slowly to you, he walks over, and asks you to stick out your hand, keeping the item hidden behind his back.

“We can take turns using them on each other.” He states calmly, his voice was soothing.

Reaching up, he drags the flogger against your hand, along your forearm, and up to your shoulders as he drapes it around the side of your neck.

With a soothing yet peaked tone to his voice, he answers back with a soft smile as he shifts his gaze from your eyes, to your breasts, and to your hips. Staring at his lips, you noticed the sudden appearance of a vintage piece that adorned his bottom lip.

'When did he....put that on?'

“Using 'them'?” you inquired of what he was referring to in his statement a moment ago.

Taking a pause, he leans in and kneels back down in front of you. The sensation of the protruding bone of his elbow was all you felt as he rests it on your own lap, propping his hand up and resting his chin against his palm, his nose and lips just an inch away from your face.

…….........

“My toys.”

#enha x reader #jake imagines #jake enhypen #kpop smut #jake hard hours #jake sim smut #jake x reader #jake hard thoughts #enhypen hard hours #jake smut #jake scenarios #jake sim #enha #enha drabbles #jake fic

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voids-colourful-creations · 2 years ago

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So Keep Coming Home (please) - A Molly and Friede Fic

[Read on Ao3]

Rated: G Pokémon Horizons Friede & Molly (Platonic) Content Warnings: Descriptions of non lethal injury, non explicit references to death/(not) wanting to die. Words: 2.8k

Summary: Friede gets a bit scraped up in a battle with the Explorers. Molly patches him up.

It’s not too loud in the med room, save for Molly’s footsteps.

It’s a bit too quiet, actually. Molly’s not a particularly chatty person, but when she’s this quiet…

It’s generally not a great sign.

Friede tries not to worry about it. Instead, he’ll just sit patiently, waiting on the med room’s bed. The positions a bit awkward, with his leg stretched out like this. He’s restless, this much staying still is unusual for him. Not a fan.

Part of the reason it’s so quiet in here is probably because the only people in the room are him and Molly. She’d shut the door and told everyone to stay out until she was finished, Cap included.

When she’d said that, Friede had almost expected her to start yelling at him. Scold him for being stupid enough to get himself hurt like this. Instead, the door locked shut, and Molly’s mouth did the same.

He kind of wishes she’d start yelling. It’d be better than the silence.

Friede watches from his spot on the bed as Molly walks about the room, bouncing between the desk and the cabinet.

She’s growing a rather large collection of bottles and boxes on the table, but Friede can’t read any of the labels. Not from here at least.

At some point, the tension becomes too much for Friede, and the barrier preventing him from speaking snaps.

“Mol, do you really need all that stuff? I don’t think it’s all that bad-“

Molly cuts him off before he can finish the sentence.

“I don't tell you how to do your job, Professor Friede. So please, don’t tell me how to do mine.”

Oh. She was angrier than Friede had thought. A lot angrier.

“Ah.”

Finally, she finishes with whatever she’d been doing at the desk, and walks over towards Friede. Molly looks him up and down for a moment, sizing up the injury as well as his state as a whole.

He’d say it wasn’t too bad. He’s not sure she’d agree.

“I had it under control.” Friede tries, though he doesn’t look at Molly while he speaks. “I just did what was the best thing in the situation. And it all worked out, didn’t it? It’s fine.”

Molly just blinks for a moment.

Then she reaches forward, her hand grabbing his ankle in a quick, smooth motion.

The gash slashing into Friede’s leg is a bit lower than the knee, but with even that movement, he hisses as he breathes in sharply.

“I beg to differ.” Molly says, expression switching to a scowl.

There’s a moment, a heartbeat, and then her expression softens again.

Somehow, that hurts Friede worse.

“Now.” She says, “Hold still, this might sting a little.”

Friede does as he’s told, and Molly slowly gets to work at disinfecting the wound.

It’s a long cut, though not all that deep. Deep enough to hurt, deep enough to bleed enough to scare the colour out of Liko’s face, deep enough to make Roy cover his eyes. Not deep enough to need stitches. Not deep enough for Friede to take it as seriously as he probably ought to.

Friede takes another attempt at reconciliation.

“Molly, what do you want, then?”

Molly raises an eyebrow, through she doesn’t look away from Friede’s leg, carefully applying another round of disinfectant.

“Elaborate.” She says.

“Do you want me to apologize?”

Molly just hums noncommittally, still focusing on the task at hand.

“That’s a rather stubborn way to phrase it.” She says after a moment. “I guess that means you don’t think you should.”

Friede shrugs, careful to keep the motion from making the rest of him move.

“I don’t regret it.”

Molly grits her teeth a bit, though her work on Friede’s leg is as gentle as ever.

“Obviously not.”

There’s something about her tone, the way her voice catches the words partway through the sentence that sparks something in Friede.

“So you’d rather I’d done nothing? I won’t apologize for protecting Roy, Molly. I’d do it again. Him or Liko or Dot. Any of you. Sorry , Molly. Sorry I make things so difficult for you, having to patch me up. If it’s such a bother, I’ll just do it myself.”

His voice is dipped in sarcasm, it’s dripping and bitter. Friede isn’t being fair to Molly, he knows it perfectly well, but he can’t help himself. The idea that he would’ve just left Roy standing in the way of a stray Psycho Cutter shot, when he could see the way he froze. When he could see the way the purple flames reflected in Roy’s eyes and just knew he wouldn’t make it out of the way alone.

Friede doesn’t move though. He keeps still like he was told, and simmers for a moment while Molly keeps silent.

“Do you know exactly why you got hurt, Friede?” She asks after a moment. The scrape’s been cleaned up now, but she still won’t look at him.

“Pushed Roy out of the way of one of Amethio’s attacks that would’ve hit him otherwise, the ground was uneven and I slipped down the rock face. But if I hadn’t-“

“If you hadn’t, then Metang would’ve deflected the shot. Orio was right there, and was already directing it.”

Friede just sits there, mouth still open, in silence.

“You hurt yourself because you’re reckless. Because you’re awful at communication, and because your first instinct at the sign of any danger is to throw yourself into it headlong. You always toss yourself up to the front lines and never even consider the consequences, before or after.”

Friede purses his lips.

Quietly, Molly picks up the gauze and bandages, begins to set them in place and starts winding them around.

“This isn’t just about today, is it?” Friede asks quietly.

Molly shakes her head.

Soft clouds drift by the window lazily. It’s evening now, and the sunsets on the opposite side from where Friede can see. Instead of the vibrant oranges and pinks, he watches the inverse, the way the darkest blues melt into pure black, the way the brightest stars begin to speckle the skyline. In the dying light, the clouds almost seem to glow in what remains. Gentle lavenders and violets, passing them by as the ship proceeds forward.

Friede addresses the window when he replies to Molly.

“Things are just… like that, aren’t they? You know how it is, Captain goes down with the ship and all that. Though, it’s not like anyone would put that on Cap, so… It’s me.”

“Do you really think anyone on this ship wants that? For you to go out instead of them?”

Friede pauses, considering.

“I- It’s not-“

“We’re all like that, you know. Everyone here’s too reckless and too caring. So trust me, idiot, when I tell you that no one wants that.”

And it’s such a simple statement in essence, but it’s so jarring to hear that Friede feels out of place. Like everything’s just been shifted to the left, but he’s right where he was a moment prior. Spinning in both directions and neither at once.

“What do you want, then?” He manages to ask.

And that’s when Molly looks up at him. Her expression is as blunt as ever, her eyes bore into him like they always have. But ever so slightly, there’s tears dotting the edges, and Friede hates that more than anything.

“For you to keep coming home.”

Molly turns her attention back to her bandage work, leaving Friede to sit with his thoughts.

“I-“ He’s coming out tongue tied again, it’s not like him, and he hates it. “I want to come home. I’m not just… tossing myself into danger because I think- because I…”

Friede trails off.

“I understand.” Molly replies as though he’d actually finished the sentence. Her voice drops to a deep whisper. “I just- we just… want you to value yourself a little more, that’s all. Put some of that weight you place on yourself on our shoulders, yeah? It’s not good for you to take it all like this… and if you can’t do that for yourself yet, at least do it for the kids? You don’t see the way Roy looks at you, like you hung the stars or something. And Liko too, even if she’s quieter about it. There’s this way about her, where she likes to bundle all the world’s problems into her own personal pile, you know this. They both look up to you a lot. Even Dot does, though I think she’d rather toss herself overboard than admit it. So don’t… don’t do something that’ll make you regret them following in your footsteps. That’s all.”

It’s a burst of words that comes rushing out of Molly’s mouth, the most Friede’s heard her speak in an age. It’s odd to hear. Not just her voice, everything about her sentiment settles awkwardly on Friede, like clothing a few sizes wrong.

She’s right though. He hates it when she’s right like this. It means that awkwardly shaped truth is something he has to learn to accept, to slot into place.

Because Friede doesn’t want to leave the Volteccers just as much as they don’t want him to leave them. Just as much as he wants to prevent the loss of any of them.

It was easier then, in those flashes of panic to forget that. Rationality is discarded, a protective instinct he’s still not accustomed too even after all this time takes over. How do you balance those feelings and that knowlege? What’s the right thing to do? And even if he knew that, in those moments of fear, would he even be able to act on that?

Friede didn’t know.

But… it was something to explore. To try and achieve. There’s a lingering feeling in Friede that there’s more than that, there’s something about the way he feels himself moving without thinking when he sees Liko or Roy in danger he doesn’t quite get yet.

There’s time to figure it out. He’d have to stick around long enough to find that at least.

“I’m sorry.” Friede says, looking over to Molly. “I’ll try.”

With a final pull at the bandages and a patch of medical tape, Molly finishes the job and looks up and over to Friede.

“That’s all I wanted to hear.”

With that she stands, stretching out her arms above her as she goes.

“How’s that feeling?” She asks, looking Friede up and down again.

“Good!” Friede says as he swings his legs down, perching on the edge of the bed. Molly doesn’t miss his slight wince as he does. She gives him a deadpan look.

“Better.” He amends sheepishly. “It does sting a bit.”

Molly nods.

“That’s to be expected, and not anything to worry about.” She pauses for a moment, “But if it starts to feel like it’s burning -“

“That’s bad?”

“That’s bad.”

There’s a brief moment, the both of them smiling before Molly shifts her expression back into something more typical for her.

“Seriously though, if something feels off, tell me. None of that idiot ‘putting on a brave face stuff’, now's not the time for it. If I catch wind that you weren’t telling me something I’ll make Lucky tail you around every time you get hurt from now on.”

Friede grins.

“You got it, Mol. Will do!”

Molly whips her head around from where she was placing bottles back in the cabinet, eyes narrowing.

“I mean it!”

“So do I!”

With that, Friede gently slips down off the bed, stepping back onto the floor again. It takes a moment, a few awkward steps to get a hold of how to handle the weight, but after a moment, he stands up straight and smiles at Molly.

“We good?”

She smiles back.

“We’re good.”

Carefully, Molly places the last bottle back in the cabinet and shuts the door.

“Now will you both stop hiding behind the door and come out?”

Before Molly’s sentence is even fully finished, the door slides open so hard it nearly bounces back closed. Roy flings it open with all his strength and comes running into the room, stumbling over his feet a little. He skids to a stop in front of Friede, immediately bending over in apology so low his hat threatens to topple over his head.

“I’m sorry! I’m really really sorry! It’s all my fault- I-!” Roy cuts himself off, raising his arm to his face to wipe away tears.

Startled, Friede whips his head over to Molly for a split second. She just stares back at him, then nods towards Roy.

“Whoa, whoa, Roy!” Friede says, raising his hands, “Roy, calm down, okay? I’m fine, see?”

Roy looks up, eyes still teary. Friede smiles at him, giving a little wave and shaking his leg out.

“See, Molly patched me right up, like she always does. Don’t go beating yourself up, yeah?”

Roy looks back to the floor, clutching his fists out in front of him. They’re shaking.

“B-but if I had-“

And there’s a bit of a chill that crawls down Friede’s back when he watches Roy in front of him like this, trembling under the weight of misplaced guilt.

“Nope, none of that.” Friede interjects. “What’s done is done. We’re moving forward, onto the next adventure. So don’t go blaming yourself for everything.”

The words fit his mouth well, they’re familiar. Friede kind of hates that, the idea that this isn’t the first time he’s had to say it in recent memory.

He takes a quick look up, glancing towards the doorway. Poking her head around the edge of it is Liko, just the edges of her hair and eyes peeking out. She makes a small noise as her eyes lock with Friede’s, and ducks back behind the door frame.

She stumbles out through it a second later, Orio’s familiar gloves pushing her forward.

“A-ah!” She takes a few steps forward, carried by momentum, but holds herself back.

“I-I’m sorry too. I-I saw the attack coming, but I just… froze. I couldn’t say a thing.”

She ducks down too, just her head, like she’s waiting for Friede to scold her.

“Both of you, come on, heads up! You’re gonna make Murdock think I’m punishing you guys!”

In unison, both children look up, eyes a bit watery, waiting expectantly for Friede to continue.

He takes a deep breath, trying to let the words roll around in his mind until they fall into the right order.

“Look. When we’re exploring, sometimes it’s going to be dangerous. Sometimes we’re going to get hurt. That’s okay! As long as you can get up afterwards. So don’t go worrying just because I got a bit scraped up.”

Friede takes a breath, looking over to Molly.

“But… you both should be careful. It’s much worse to go tossing yourself in harm's way without a plan. You want to be strong enough to protect what you care about, I understand. But I’ll let you guys in on a secret, okay? Sometimes the strongest thing you can do is step back and realize when you’ve got to let someone else handle something, or help you with it.”

Roy stares at Friede, eyes wide.

“Even if it’s someone you really love?”

Friede nods.

“Especially then.”

Liko looks up as well, glancing over at Roy’s face before looking back to Friede’s. She looks like she wants to say something, but whatever it is, she keeps her mouth shut. After a moment, she seemingly makes up her mind.

“What if it’s… hard. To let someone else handle it.”

Friede hums lightly.

“Yeah… asking for help is hard. But that doesn’t mean you shouldn’t do it. Even if it’s late. That’s the point of having a team, yeah? It’s not just you out there, there’s all of us working together and helping each other out.”

When he says it aloud like this, Friede feels kind of silly. For rushing in and being reckless. But when he’s talking to Liko and Roy like this, he almost feels like he’ll be able to get himself to believe it.

“Sure you say that…” Liko mumbles under her breath, and it’s not like Friede doesn’t think she has a point.

He takes a deep breath.

“I’ll make you kids a deal.” He says, “If you try to count on us to help you out a bit more and don’t go blaming yourself for my recklessness, I’ll try and rely on you both a bit more, okay? Sounds good?”

Liko and Roy share a quick glance, split second communication understood only by them.

“Okay!” They say in unison. Even though there’s still a few tears dotting Roy’s eyes, though Liko’s face is a touch red from worrying, there’s something of a smile on their faces.

And that, he tells himself, is why he’ll get better at trying. At making sure he always comes home.

[End]

#pokemon #pokeani #pkmn #anipoke #trainer liko #pokemon horizons #pokemon liko #volteccer liko #professor friede #trainer friede #volteccer friede #volteccer molly #volteccer roy #pokemon roy #voids fic #pokemon fic #pokemon fanfiction

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drabbles-mc · 11 months ago

Text

Turn of the Tide (2/2)

Pirate!Stucky AU

Summary: After years apart thinking that they would never see each other again, Steve and Bucky come face to face under circumstances neither of them ever would have dreamed of.

Warnings: 18+, minor blood/injury, angst (with a happy ending), pining, alcohol

For the Alternate June-iverse prompt: Pirates

Part 1 can be found HERE

Word Count: 8.4k (oops)

A/N: It took me forever to find time to go back and edit this part but we got it done! I love this little au and I will be thinking about Pirate Stucky for a long time.

MCU Taglist: @artemiseamoon @garbinge @late-to-the-party-81 (If you want to be added to any of my taglists, please let me know!)

The sky was slowly changing from black to grey as they got closer to sunrise. Bucky had faded in and out of sleep, the rest of his crew in much the same situation. He had a feeling that over the next couple of hours exhaustion would completely take over them regardless of the rising sun. Sam had gone and traded off with someone a little while before. Steve had turned away a few of his men offering to take up the helm. The shift in the sky clued him in to just how long he had been awake, though, so the next time someone offered he allowed them to take it.

The smart thing to do would’ve been to scamper off to his quarters, try and get some rest while he still could especially now that their typical merchant run had the potential to turn into something else entirely. There was the possibility of having much more to answer for once they reached their destination, and Steve had no idea what to do about any of it.

Rather than doing the smart thing and getting whatever sleep he could, Steve made his way back across the deck. His steps were quiet as he strode up to the mast where they had all the men tied. Bucky was the only one awake at the moment, and he had been staring, watching Steve the entire time. He looked up as Steve stopped in front of him, not saying anything until the captain spoke up and said something first.

“We need to talk,” Steve finally said, trying to sound serious but just sounding tired instead.

“We can talk here.” Bucky matched his tone, every ounce of exhaustion being reflected.

Steve sighed, not wanting to argue but not willing to back down this time. “C’mon.”

“Can’t say it here?” he asked, a challenge in his tone. Despite that he was still keeping his voice low, a pointed effort to make sure that none of his men woke up.

“James.” He let it serve as its own sentence, exasperation coming through even with so few words being spoken.

“I’m not—”

“We need to talk.” He saw the look in Bucky’s eyes that he was going to come back with another argument, some thinly veiled reason why they had to talk here or they wouldn’t talk about it at all. “Keep the ropes on, if that makes you feel better,” Steve said, almost like a joke but he was perfectly serious, and he knew that Bucky would be too.

Bucky almost gave into it but then shook his head. “I’m not—”

He stopped short when Steve leaned down, expertly slicing through the rope that was keeping him pinned to the mast but not the one that was keeping his wrists tied together. Seconds later Steve’s hand was wrapping around his bicep all over again, yanking him up off the ground. He meant to fight against it but he was still having trouble wrapping his head around how much things had changed. Never in a million years did he think that Steve would be able to yoke him up off the deck with such ease.

“And I’m not asking,” was all Steve said as he started to drag Bucky back towards his sleeping quarters, one of the only places where they could get anything resembling privacy.

Steve pushed the door open, dragging Bucky inside with him. He’d been prepared for more resistance, but once he got Bucky to his feet it was like all the fight drained out of him. Steve had brought him along like an unruly dog on a leash, going along because there was only so far he could get if he didn’t.

“Steve, I told you—”

“Listen to me,” Steve spoke up, his voice still firm, still quiet, “this is about your crew. And you. What,” he shook his head, “what am I supposed to do when we reach port?”

It wasn’t funny but Bucky was still smiling anyway. The inevitability of it all was something that he had been wrestling with for years, on and off acceptance levels with it all. Clearly Steve hadn’t ever given it much thought, never really had to. His perspective of it was always going to be different anyway—he was never going to be the one getting handed over to authorities, thrown in jail or strung up in a noose in the public square. Steve was safely outside all of that, always had been. However, Bucky could tell by the look on his friend’s face, if he could still call him that, that Steve hadn’t ever given much thought to having to be the man who handed others over for that type of fate. It wasn’t sitting well, clearly. Bucky wondered if he would’ve had the same crisis of faith if it had been anyone else who stormed his ship. Would there be the same hesitation if Steve wasn’t looking at him and seeing James?

“Think you know the answer to that,” Bucky finally answered.

“Don’t,” Steve said softly, wearily.

“What else is there?” He shrugged as best he could with his hands still bound behind his back. “You let us go, or you turn us over.”

“I can’t just…” he trailed off, not sure what he wanted to end the sentence with.

He couldn’t just let them go—his own crew would never allow that after everything. But he didn’t think that he could just hand them over when they got there, either. Steve went years blaming himself for what happened to Bucky before and it wasn’t really his fault at the core of it. This, though? There would be no way to deny that the fallout would rest squarely on Steve’s shoulders. He didn’t want to lose him again. Last time he lost him as James and he came back as Bucky, but there would be no coming back a few years down the road with a different name if he followed through with this. The fact that it happened once was an astronomical stroke of luck.

“You have to,” Bucky said simply. “Make the call and stay with it. Live with it.”

Steve ran his hands back through his hair as he started to pace the room. Out of the corner of his eye he noticed that Bucky took the opportunity sit on the edge of Steve’s bed. There were so many things swirling around the inside of his head that he couldn’t slow down and pick one. The sun just kept rising, taking away more time that Steve didn’t have to figure everything out. So many pressing issues and yet when he was finally able to focus on one thought long enough to ask it, he didn’t say anything having to do with the future.

“Why didn’t you ever come home?” Steve asked. “All these years. Never came, never even…” he trailed off, suddenly unsure of what he really expected of James now that he knew the circumstances of it all. “All this time I thought—”

“It wasn’t that easy. I couldn’t just,” he shook his head, a fresh sense of awareness of the ridges and divots of scarring on his arm even through the fabric of his shirt. “It wasn’t that easy.”

There were more questions that Steve wanted to ask, conversations that he wanted to have, but there just wasn’t the time. If he didn’t figure out a plan soon there wasn’t ever going to be time. Walking over, he sat down on the edge of the bed beside Bucky.

“I know,” he finally admitted, although there was no way that he knew the half of it. With a sigh, he pulled his knife out and sliced through the ropes on Bucky’s wrists. Steve was expecting him to pull away, fight him on it, but he didn’t. Instead, he let out a small huff of relief at no longer having the ropes pulling at his skin.

Bucky ran his hands over the indentations left behind by the ropes. “If it wasn’t you, it would have been someone else.” He let out a deep sigh. “Time always runs out.”

“It doesn’t have—”

“What, then?” he asked, the anger in his tone not really directed at Steve, but he was long past wanting any sort of false hope. “You said it yourself, you can’t—”

“I don’t know what.” While Steve could appreciate the difference in their positions, he didn’t need Bucky to sit there and reiterate back to him the circumstances that they were in. He knew full-well. “But there has to be something. I can’t,” he paused to hide the crack threatening to slice its way through his voice, “I won’t just hand you over like that.”

“Your men won’t allow otherwise.”

“They don’t have a say—”

“They do,” Bucky’s voice was firm. “They do and you know that. Besides, I told you, I won’t weasel out of this and eave the rest of my crew to hang.”

The sadness in Steve’s eyes was almost too much to bear. “James…”

“What I said, I didn’t say it just because they were sitting next to me. I meant it. If there isn’t a solution for all of us, then you will just have to find it in yourself to hand me over with them.”

“I won’t do it,” Steve said, trying to remain adamant despite the weight accumulating inside his chest. “I’ll figure something out. I’ll…I’ll get my men on-board.”

Bucky laughed quietly. Still stubborn, still unconcerned in the face of impossible odds. How Steve had changed so much and yet so little over the years was almost admirable. Bucky wished that he’d had the means to remain so steadfast. He looked at Steve and then at the small window that looked out onto the deck, the thin strip of sky and ocean just visible beyond.

“Better figure something out quick, Stevie.” There was still a tiny grin on his face despite it all as he nodded towards the window, hands no longer rubbing at his wrists. “Sun’s up now. Time’s running out.”

The gears were visibly turning in Steve’s head. “Will you wait here, at least? While I figure it out?”

He sighed as he shook his head, tracing his fingers along his wrists once more, savoring a few more seconds without the restraint and the residual pain from it. “I can’t.”

“You could,” Steve argued, a lightness to his tone that hadn’t been there before, like there was humor to it all. Ridiculousness if nothing else.

He could, but he didn’t. In no time at all Bucky found himself right back alongside his men. He was met with a peppering of questions from members of his crew, rightfully so, about what had transpired when Steve pulled him away. He answered them honestly, not that the honest answers really provided anyone with any type of certainty. There was none to be had given their current circumstances. Their fate now rested in Steve’s hands, and his ability to persuade his crew to do something that they undoubtedly had no interest in doing.

The conversation was taking place just too far away to make out the exact words that were being said, regardless of how hard Bucky tried. But even if he couldn’t make out each word, he could hear the rise and fall of the volume, the anger in men’s tones as they argued about it all. He wished that he could’ve heard what Steve was saying, never mind the rest of them. Whatever the fallout, Bucky hoped that he would get a chance to ask him about it.

“I never asked,” the same man from before spoke up, once more drawing Bucky’s attention away from everything else, “what your life was before all this. Was never my business then. But now?” He looked over at Steve and his crew. “Now it feels like our business.”

Bucky shook his head. “We were just kids. It’s been too long to assume that it all still matters.”

He chuckled. “Seems like it matters to him.”

The weary smile crept back onto his face again. “Won’t matter to the rest of them. That’s what this is all hinging on.”

“Didn’t think I’d find myself in the position of rooting for him,” he admitted with another laugh, “and yet here I am.”

Bucky let his gaze drift back over to Steve and his crew. “Yeah, here we are.”

He and the rest of his crew were already prepared for whatever was coming their way. They’d abandoned the idea of any other outcome besides the worst the moment Steve’s crew congregated to decide their fate. The longer the conversation went on, the more likely it seemed that hanging was going to be the only out.

Bucky had allowed his eyes a minute to rest, and when he opened them again to the sound of footsteps, he was surprised to see that it wasn’t Steve standing in front of him, but a member of the crew instead. The same man who had stayed up almost the entire night right alongside Steve.

“The captain wouldn’t ever say it,” Sam said as he crouched down so he was on the same level as the rest of the men, but most importantly Bucky, “but I will—you all should be grateful to him for this.”

One of the men in Bucky’s crew spoke up before he could. “Grateful for what, exactly?”

Sam leaned to try and get a better look at whoever it was that had said that. “Grateful that he’s willing to cut you all loose and save you from hanging in the center of the square once we make port.”

Bucky was fighting to feel some sense of relief but there was no way that it was going to be so simple. “At what cost?”

“Give it all up,” Sam said, toying with the knife in his hand, one that was only inches away from cutting the lot of them free if they agreed to the short and simple list of terms. “The lives you’ve had up until now, piracy and prizes. Leave it all behind, join our crew, then we can cut you loose. Forget,” he sighed, notes of bitterness underlying it all, “that all of this ever happened.”

“That simple, eh?” the man beside him spoke up and Bucky wondered when he lost the title of the man with the quickest wit of his own crew.

“Simple doesn’t mean easy,” Sam replied, and something about the look in his eyes told Bucky that that sentence was something Steve said at some point during their discussion. Sam looked around at all of them. “Leave you to discuss—”

“There’s nothing to discuss,” Bucky said, determined to be the first one to speak up this time, determined not to let his men cost themselves their only shot at something resembling freedom. “We’ll do it.” He nodded. “Cut us loose and we’ll do it.”

There were instant murmurs of dissent, mutterings of Captain, and Bucky, as men tried to make their case. Bucky wasn’t having any of it.

“There is no other option,” he said firmly. “If you don’t want to hang, this is what we’re going to do.” He took a deep breath. “We’re no strangers to being part of a crew.”

Sam let another moment pass, like he was waiting for a real issue or argument to arise. He wasn’t just going to start cutting everyone loose if it was immediately going to backfire onto them. The silence that followed was undoubtedly tense, but it was also telling. For as much as they might not have thought of it as a favorable thing, it was the only option that kept them alive to see the next sunrise.

When he was convinced enough, Sam reached and sliced through the ropes that were keeping Bucky bound in place. His wrists were unbound from each other and he was unbound from the mast all within the same expert swipe of Sam’s wrist. Bucky let out a short, quiet sigh of relief. There were still plenty of questions to answer but at least they managed to make it to the next step. One at a time would have to do for now.

The two of them stood facing each other in silence for a moment. They were almost completely eye-to-eye, each sizing the other up to a degree. Bucky knew that he didn’t have much footing to stand on, that he was in a lot of ways at the mercy of Sam and the rest of the crew, but old habits die hard and he wasn’t going to set himself to be walked over, either. There was a tightness in Sam’s jaw and for a moment he thought that it would be nothing short of a miracle if it ever went away if things continued to play out the way that they were.

Another long second ticked by and then Sam reached and pulled a knife from the back of his belt. He twirled it expertly in his hand before carefully holding the handle end out to Bucky for him to take. “Guess you can have this back.”

Something about the action, about Sam’s tone, brought the signature smirk back to Bucky’s face. Maybe one day they’d learn to get along, maybe they wouldn’t. Either way, Bucky had the feeling that there was something about Sam he’d grow to like even if the feeling was never mutual.

He deftly plucked the knife out of Sam’s hand. “Thank you.”

Sam didn’t grant him the courtesy of saying you’re welcome. Instead, he nodded towards the rest of Bucky’s crew, wondering when or if he would ever stop thinking of them that way. “I’ll leave you to this, then.”

It became apparent within a few seconds that Sam might have excused himself from the action of cutting the men loose, but he certainly wasn’t going to just turn his back and walk away. As Bucky set about the task of freeing everyone from their binds, he realized that it was, most likely, going to be a very long time before any of them were capable of doing anything without someone looking over their shoulders. Understandable, of course, but that would be an adjustment all its own for his men. He briefly wondered if they would be able to accept it.

As everyone was getting the blood back into their limbs and attempting to rub away the irritation left behind by the ropes that were around their wrists and ankles, they couldn’t help but to try and chatter quietly amongst themselves. The solution given to them posed far more questions than it did answers, and everyone involved was aware of that. Bucky could learn to live with it, as could his men, if the looming questions overhead meant that they wouldn’t be thrown to the gallows. He did wonder, though, how Steve convinced his own men to be alright with so little certainty.

“Now what?” one of the men finally spoke up, not a yell, but louder than the hushed tones they’d been using. “We just…pretend?”

Bucky shook his head. “There is no pretending. This is our crew, now.”

“Bucky—”

“Or we can let them tie you back up and you can be the port authority’s problem. That sound better to you?” He took a breath, trying not to let his own frustrations and confusion boil over. “Ste—Captain Rogers,” he corrected himself for the sake of the men in front of him, “is more than fair. We will figure this out. We have to, because the only alternative would be to take our chances trying to escape once we reached port. And those chances didn’t look good since we were all bound to the mast.”

“Why do you trust him so much?”

It was a fair question, one with an answer so loaded Bucky didn’t think that he could even try chipping away at it given the current state of things. Rather than attempt to get into all of that, he simply replied, “What other choice do we have?” Turning from his men back to Sam, he said, “I take it you’re the person we should be going to?”

Sam took all the time that he could to collect himself, staring down at the wooden planks of the deck beneath his feet before finally meeting the gazes of the men in front of him. “Seems that way, yeah.”

Bucky made a point to put his knife back in its rightful spot on his belt. Then, he held his hand out. “Don’t think we’ve been properly introduced. I’m—”

“I know,” Sam cut him off but still returned the gesture, clasping Bucky’s hand tightly with his own.

He nodded understandingly, not bothered by a little bit of harshness. It was par for the course when they carried out the lives they were thrown into. All things being equal, the way that Sam was handling things was fairly civil.

“Wilson, right?”

Sam nodded. “That’s right.”

Bucky let his hand drop back to his side, noting how when Sam pulled his hand back it immediately went to the hilt of his sword. “Tell us what you need.”

He gestured with his chin towards the opposite end of the deck. “Captain wants to talk to you, specifically. I’ll get the rest of your crew…reacquainted.”

In some ways, Bucky knew that the hardest part was over. In terms of ensuring that his crew didn’t face immediate death, the hardest part was over. The long road ahead was going to be figuring out what to do now. And that didn’t even begin to touch upon him and Steve—that was a mess to uncoil all on its own.

He set off across the deck, not having much of another option. His fingers toyed with the handle of his knife. He tried to just keep his eyes fixed forward, tried not to pay too much mind to the eyes that he felt following his every step. Of all the things that he could think about in that moment, could focus on, he tried to center all of his thoughts around Steve. He was the closest thing to a constant in all of this as he could try and get. Plenty of things had changed over the years, but apparently one thing that still rang true was the fact that Steve was determined to take Bucky in like a stray. Another thing that hadn’t changed was the fact that Bucky was content to let him do so.

He could see the way that Steve’s hands were gripping tightly to the helm, unnecessarily so given the smoothness of the water they were currently experiencing. There was so much to talk about that it seemed futile to try and pick a starting point. In an attempt to steady is mounting nerves, Bucky idly toyed with the pendant at the base of one of his necklaces.

Steve’s eyes diverted over to Bucky a couple times, although they were mostly trained on the water ahead. The lack of sleep had stopped affecting him about halfway through the discussion with his men. He had a feeling now that he wouldn’t be able to rest until the day was done and the sun went back down. And even then, it would only be because his body shut down of its own volition.

“Your men are okay with this?” Steve finally said, still looking forward.

“Are yours?” Bucky retorted, sounding a little more amused than maybe he should have.

That got Steve to cut his gaze over towards him. “No. But…”

“They trust you,” he filled in the end of the sentence for him, “even if they don’t trust us.” He watched as Steve silently nodded in agreement. “My men won’t cost you that. I’ll make sure of it.”

An ounce of the tension dropped out of Steve’s shoulders. “Thank you.”

“What did you say to them?” Bucky asked. It wasn’t the most pressing issue, but it was something that he was going to be thinking about until he got an answer for it.

Steve shook his head. “What I had to. I,” he sucked in a deep breath, “I said what I had to, to make sure that they wouldn’t let you hang.”

To say thank you just didn’t seem like enough. The amount of trust that Steve was still placing in him after all the years apart, despite how the universe brought them back together, two small words just didn’t seem like enough to offset it.

Bucky realized that his silence must have lasted a couple beats too long because Steve spoke up again. “We have to talk.”

Bucky nodded. “I know. We need to figure out—”

The exhaustion washed over Steve’s face again, rough waves in the ocean of his expression. “Not that,” Steve stopped him, knowing that Bucky was thinking far too practically in that moment to be on the same page as him. “Making port will be simple. They know my father, and me. They trust me.”

“Everyone does,” Bucky said, a dash of humor in his voice.

“Lucky for your men,” Steve said, wearier than he meant to. He saw the way that Bucky’s expression immediately sobered and he almost apologized. He stopped himself before it slipped out, not wanting to take away from the very real gravity of the situation. “I mean we need to talk about the rest of it. All of it.”

Bucky knew that Steve was right, but he didn’t know how or where to start. “One thing at a time,” he finally said.

Steve nodded slowly. “One thing at a time.”

Their travels were swift, although it didn’t quite feel like it for most of the men aboard the ship. The thick tension seemed to make time go slower even with the wind and the sea on their side. It wasn’t until land was actually in sight that any of them started to discuss what they were going to say and, more importantly, what they were not going to say.

There was no doubt that the man Steve was speaking to was casting dubious looks over at the lot of them. Everyone was doing their best to remain as calm and casual as possible, but even with that there was still a bit of a noticeable divide among the men on the ship.

Still, the man was giving Steve the benefit of the doubt. Neither him nor his father had ever given any of them reason to suspect foul play. Steve had never been as thankful as he was in that moment. “Expanded the crew since our last trip.”

The man nodded thoughtfully as he took the silver being handed to him. He didn’t say anything as he counted the money out. There was a brief moment that had Steve wondering if he should have put a few extra pieces in there like Bucky had said. Steve’s argument against it had been that if there was extra money, it would be like an automatic admission of guilt. It was sound logic, but the unreadable look on the man’s face made Steve, for a moment, buy into Bucky’s mentality of anyone can be swayed for the right price.

After a few more agonizing seconds, the man slid the coins back into the pouch that Steve had handed them over in. He tightened the string and looked at Steve, his face finally showing an emotion as he smiled. “Father thought you’d need extra reinforcements without him?”

Steve wouldn’t have been able to describe his immense relief if someone had asked, and because of that he was fighting extremely hard to not let it show on his face. He chuckled and nodded, the actions a genuine outlet for the emotions inside of him. “He’s always been cautious that way.”

The man gestured towards the ship. “They don’t seem nearly as enthused about it as you are.”

The smile on Steve’s face was as charming as it had ever been. “No one is ever as enthused about anything as I am.”

The man laughed. “That’s fair.”

And just like that, they were safe. At least for the time being. It hadn’t ever been in Steve’s plans to linger, but with the change in circumstances, now he was more determined than ever to get in and out as quickly as possible. This was the part that he was familiar with, after all. He knew the merchants, he knew the metaphorical dances that needed to be done in order to get the money he wanted for the goods that they had. It would be a quick trip. He just had to hope that it would be quick enough for all the men with him to avoid suspicion.

It was impossible not to notice some of the looks that were getting thrown their way. Steve noticed it but managed to not let it show on his face—the more confidently he could carry himself, act like it was all simply business as usual, the less likely it was that anyone else would try and cause any problems with them. He did his best not to let it rattle him too much.

Bucky hadn’t been more than an arm’s length away since they made port. A few of his men had elected to stay back with the ship, not wanting any undue risk of someone trying to cause trouble with them or someone realizing who they were. While their crew might not have been as notorious as some, they’d still managed to leave some enemies scattered along the way. Bucky didn’t have the same lingering sense of dread about it as they did, so he followed right alongside Steve.

He wondered if Steve refusing to look over at him too long was on purpose in that he didn’t want to draw any attention, or if it was because of something much deeper and messier than that. Again, Bucky didn’t share the restraint. Every few strides, if he wasn’t looking to take stock of their surroundings, his eyes were on Steve. He was studying everything about him while he had the chance—the way he spoke, the way he carried himself. Bucky was trying hard to reconcile that with the mental imagery of Steve that he’d been carrying with him all these years. The thought crossed his mind frequently, even as the years continued to tick on, and he always wondered what Steve looked like and acted like now. But now that he was right there in front of him, whatever thoughts and conjurings had been in Bucky’s head all that time immediately evaporated out of existence. It was just this Steve now, just the one walking beside him. He wondered if Steve would soon be doing the same thing in return.

“You’re going to trip,” Steve said, eyes still fixed forward as they made their way farther and farther from the docks.

His statement caused Bucky to look down at the ground for a moment and then back up at him. “I’m not—”

“If you don’t stop staring at me,” he elaborated, finally turning to give a split-second glance to the man beside him, “you’re going to trip.”

The look was brief, but it was just long enough for Bucky to see the slight up-turn of Steve’s lips as he looked away again. There was comfort in that, the fact that Steve could still look at him and smile. There were so many things ahead of them that there was no certainty about, but things like that made Bucky feel that even if he didn’t have anything else when this all shook out, he might still have Steve.

“You should let me do the talking,” Bucky said, the palpable humor in his voice letting Steve know that he wasn’t seriously requesting it.

Still, Steve shook his head. “I don’t that’s the type of haggling we’re looking to do here.”

He could hear it in Steve’s voice, the way that he was trying not to sound amused by any of it. He nettled him a little more, hand coming to rest casually on the hilt of his sword. “Would bring it all to an end a lot quicker, though.”

Steve faced him, managing not to let his steps falter. “James.”

He said it like a parent preemptively scolding a child, just enough firmness to his tone so that the situation wouldn’t escalate to the point of needing to yell in earnest. Steve’s chastising tone hadn’t changed all that much over the years—his voice was just a little deeper now.

Bucky turned and looked at him, eyebrows raised, everything about his posture communicating just how unbothered he was. “Steve.” He took his hand off his sword, letting a smile crack across his face like a sign of surrender. “Only if they give you a hard time, then.”

Steve meant to huff out a sigh but it turned into a chuckle at the tail-end of it. “Thank you.”

True to his word, Bucky kept his mouth shut. He was even kind, or rather, level-headed enough to not say anything to Steve’s other men who were giving him more questioning looks than anyone else in the myriad of shops and streets they found themselves all walking through. He understood it, of course, but it didn’t mean that he particularly enjoyed it. It hadn’t even been a day yet but Bucky already found himself wondering just how long it was going to take for those looks to fade away.

“See?” Bucky said, his voice more triumphant than it had any right to be as they started making their way back towards the ship. “I’m a man of my word.”

The sky was getting darker by the second, and Steve was thankful for it as it hid the amused look on his face. He was just about to come back with something equally light-hearted when one of his men let out a scoff behind them. Steve felt his entire body tense at the sound, knowing exactly what it was about, and having a relatively good idea of how Bucky was going to respond to it.

He tried to keep his voice low and even. He reached and placed his hand on Bucky’s arm. “James, don’t—”

Bucky knew he should heed the warning but he was already turning around to face the man standing behind them. Bucky had heard someone else from the crew say his name but it hadn’t stuck. He supposed that didn’t really matter given the circumstances. “Something you’d like to say?” Bucky offered, the apparent nonchalance in his voice only fooling any passerby’s.

The man gave a tight shake of his head as he stepped in closer to Bucky, keeping his voice low which was an odd act of kindness given the circumstances. “The things I’d like to say would get you strung up in the square.”

Bucky’s jaw twitched, the indignant and hurt part of him wanted to lash out, make the situation worse. It was a skillset he’d spent a lifetime honing. “If that’s what you want, go ahead and say whatever it is that you’re thinking. See how it—”

Steve wedged himself between the two of them, trying to keep a close eye not just on the two of them, but on the people who were weaving their ways around them as well. “That’s enough.” He subtly pushed each of them farther apart. “We can resolve this back on the ship.”

There were a few seconds of tension, but they ended up passing without incident as the man turned and continued on his way to the ship, brushing by Bucky and Steve angrily. The other men followed swiftly behind him, leaving the two of them standing there, still practically chest to chest from when Steve had pushed the men apart using his own body.

“There will be nothing to resolve by the time we get back to the ship,” Steve tried to reassure. “The walk back will calm—”

“Until one of them gets angry again,” Bucky countered.

“And I’ll deal with it then,” Steve told him, voice steady.

His tone left no room for argument, and Bucky was impressed by that. Maybe he’d get around to voicing that later. For now, he managed to create an argument that Steve was desperately trying to extinguish before it even got started. “If you end up regretting this, you—”

“Don’t do that,” Steve cut him off, shaking his head as he took a small step back to create a little bit of space between them.

It wasn’t until Steve removed himself that Bucky realized how close he’d still been. “What?”

“You know what.”

And he did. Many things were different now but in spite of all that, there were certain looks and certain tones that meant the same thing now as they had years ago. Bucky nodded. “Okay.”

That seemed to be the end of it as the two of them also continued their trip back to the ship. There was clamor and scattered conversations happening around them, the occasional tune being sung off-key by someone in the pub. They let that take place of the conversation, a palette cleanser after everything that had just transpired.

“We’ll head back first thing in the morning,” Steve said when the ship was in sight.

Bucky nodded, knowing that even if he had an opinion on any of it, it wouldn’t have changed anything. “Alright.” He paused, allowing himself a chuckle. “Long as your crew doesn’t slit my throat while I’m sleeping.”

Steve knew that he shouldn’t laugh at that but he couldn’t quite stop himself. “They won’t.”

Bucky almost made a joke about the men tossing him overboard instead, but he thought better of it. Too soon. Decades later but still too soon. Instead he let the conversation fade once more as the two of them walked back up and onto the ship. The conversations taking place on the ship soon filled the space between them. They both looked around, impressed to see that a few of the men from each crew had started trying to mingle. It wasn’t everyone, and there was still tension in the air, but it was a start.

Sam popped up practically as soon as the two of them were fully on the deck. He looked eager, not quite as exhausted as he had looked at the start of the day. “How’d it go?”

Steve nodded approvingly. “Everything’s fine. We’ll be set to leave at sunrise.”

Confusion crossed Sam’s face for a moment. “Sunrise? I thought—”

“I’m in no condition to man the helm, Wilson,” Steve spoke firmly but still kindly. “It’s been a long eventful time since I last slept well, so I would rather do that and take off in the morning. If that’s alright.”

Sam nodded as Steve spoke. He wasn’t looking to disagree, he just hadn’t thought of it that way. He told Steve as much before saying, “There’s food in your quarters,” his eyes darted over to Bucky for a fraction of a second, “when you’re ready.”

“Thank you.”

When Sam had strode far enough away to be out of earshot, Bucky spoke up. “Good kid.”

Even though he hadn’t said it like a question, Steve still responded as though he had. “Yeah, he is.” He looked over at Bucky. “That one’s gonna take awhile.”

The exhaustion was starting to wash over him now that the most fast-paced of it was over, but he still manufactured a genuine chuckle. “I figured.”

Steve saw the tiredness on his face and for some reason it made him feel a little heavier as well. He rested his hand on Bucky’s shoulder for a moment. “Go. Rest. We can talk tomorrow.”

Bucky didn’t necessarily want to pull himself away, but he knew that he had to. With nothing more than a nod, he slipped away and went off to get back with the rest of his crew. Steve watched him for a few moments, unable to look away until Bucky was sitting and apparently comfortable with some of his men. Only then did he finally turn to head towards his own quarters.

Steve didn’t remember falling asleep. He remembered going back to his quarters, he remembered scarfing down the food that Sam had left there for him. He even vaguely remembered removing his boots as he sat on the edge of his bed. He did not, however, remember succumbing to his exhaustion in such a way that he was sprawled completely out across his bed, one arm dangling off the edge of it, body contorted in ways that certainly wouldn’t be comfortable to anyone who was at all conscious.

Pulling himself into a somewhat normal and upright position, like a marionette being pulled up by its strings, Steve swung his legs so that they were off the edge of the bed, feet planted firmly on the floor. He propped his elbows on his knees so that he could drop his head into his hands for a moment, rubbing the sleep from the corners of his eyes. He could see that it was pitch black out, that he hadn’t slept clean through until morning. But he felt leagues better than he had before he fell asleep so he would take the win regardless.

After sitting still for a few moments, he put his boots back on and made his way for the door, leading himself back out to the deck. Looking seaward, it was dark save for the stars and what little light carried far enough from the docks and town behind. Steve chose to keep his eyes trained that way, enjoying the peace of it all. The chaos of the shore had quieted, almost nonexistent now and nearly impossible to hear over the waves lapping against the docks and the ships.

The wood of the deck creaked beneath his feet as he walked. His eyes adjusted quickly to the lack of light with each step that he took, and it was only when that happened that he saw that he wasn’t alone out on the deck. A silhouette that was old and new to him at the same time lingered at the far side, leaning against the rail, staring out at the seemingly endless sea. Steve felt the nerves creeping up his spine and tried to ignore them as he continued to walk over.

He leaned against the railing beside Bucky, not looking at him as he asked, “Couldn’t sleep?”

Bucky shook his head. “Not for very long.”

That was all either of them said. Bucky looked out at the ocean waves for a little while longer before he let his gaze drop to the wooden railing that they were each leaning on. His stomach tightened, old memories rearing their ugly heads—a past life that he didn’t feel he had any right to anymore.

Steve watched the way that Bucky’s hands moved tentatively along the wood. He had a fairly good idea of what Bucky was thinking about, because he was thinking about the same exact thing. There was so much that Steve had planned to say, spent years thinking it all through, but now that they were standing there next to each other the words died before they even made it up the column of his throat. None of them would change what happened.

With each movement of Bucky’s hand and arm, the sleeve of his shirt pulled up higher and higher. Bucky didn’t seem to notice, or if he noticed he didn’t seem to care, but Steve couldn’t help but to look at the scarring that ran up his left arm.

“What happened?” the question tumbled from his lips before he could stop it.

Bucky looked at him, confused at the vagueness of his question until he saw where Steve was looking. He gave a small shake of his head. “That night…” he trailed off, not needing to spell it all out.

The sad expression that took over Steve’s face in that moment was enough to break just about anyone’s heart. He knew that he should have something elegant or meaningful to say, but all that came out was a quiet, sad, “Oh.” If he was simply being nosey, he would’ve followed it up with more specific questions, but once he heard that it was all the answer he felt he needed.

Bucky stared down at his arm. The scars were so much a part of him now that he hardly noticed them anymore. Some days his arm still ached, pains that he was almost certain were all in his head but he couldn’t prove it. So many horrid things packed into one night so long ago.

“The waves weren’t the only thing that I had to worry about,” he finally said.

Steve’s heart was getting heavier by the second. “I’m sorr—”

“Don’t,” Bucky cut him off. He pried his eyes up off his arm and looked at Steve. “What could you have done? Either of us?”

Bucky could see it on Steve’s face that he was fighting the urge to argue. He never argued just for the sake of it, something that Bucky found himself doing more than once or twice over the years, but Steve still sometimes couldn’t help but land himself in a debate. He always meant well by it. Any argument with him usually, as much as Bucky could remember, ensued because Steve just couldn’t stop himself from sticking up for someone, for something. A good trait to have most times, but not all. Bucky marveled at that about him now just as much as he had back then, maybe even a little more-so. It was easier to appreciate things with more years and experience.

Steve sighed, shoulders deflating as he nodded. “I know.”

Something about those two small words made it seem like a world of tension had been taken off their shoulders. Both of them had spent so long carrying around so much hurt, so much guilt. They’d been living with countless question marks hovering just above their heads. The burden of things far beyond one’s own control was a heavy one to carry, and they’d been doing it for years. But the admission that there was nothing they could have done then? Or in the interim since? There was comfort in that. It didn’t absolve them of all the grief, but it was a start. And that was more than they ever thought they were going to get.

Bucky’s eyes stayed fixed on the water in front of them then. He watched the waves as they gently came lapping at the sides of their ship and the others that had anchored around them. It was so calm, so unlike the night they were both thinking about in that moment.

Out of the corner of his eye, Bucky could see Steve shifting nervously. There was something more that he wanted to say. Bucky briefly wondered if there had ever been a time when Steve didn’t have something more to say. He didn’t try to rush it out of him, though. He’d get to it when he was ready.

All of the shifting and fussing with his hands landed Steve closer to Bucky than he already had been. They were shoulder to shoulder now. The outside of Steve’s arm was pressed flush against Bucky’s, from his bicep all the way down to their wrists. Bucky waited for Steve to realize it, to pull away and put the distance between them again, but it never happened.

“I don’t care what happens now,” Steve finally said.

Bucky’s face scrunched in confusion for a moment. “What?”

Steve wanted to look him in the eyes but for the moment he couldn’t manage it. He settled for staring intently at Bucky’s hand instead as it rested dangerously close to his own. “I know it matters, but I just,” he shook his head, “I don’t care what happens next.”

Bucky didn’t know what to make of the relief in Steve’s voice. “Steve…”

He did his best to fill in the gaps between what he was saying and what he actually meant. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever happens next isn’t going to matter,” Steve felt his courage surging with each word he spoke, finding it in himself to finally take Bucky’s hand in his as he continued, “because we’re going to handle it. No matter what.”

He matched Steve’s grip, each of them holding the hand of the other like they were the only thing keeping them from slipping away again. In a way they were. He felt the warmth, the softness of the skin of Steve’s forearm against his own scars and for the first time in a long time he didn’t feel the want to pull away from the touch. It was Steve, after all.

Bucky’s eyes were glued to their entwined hands, watching the way Steve’s thumb traced back and forth over his. The only thing that got him to look up was the sound of Steve’s voice as he spoke up again.

“Remember what we always used to say?”

The ends of his lips began to curl upwards, warmth in the small gesture. He remembered. Of course, he remembered. “Yeah.”

Steve’s sigh of relief was quiet, but not quite silent as he allowed himself to lean a little more against Bucky’s side. There was something familiar about the gesture. Suddenly they were teenagers staying up past curfew again—staying out a little too late, drinking a little too much, sitting a little too close. But it didn’t feel like a secret anymore.

“I still mean it,” Steve said with a small nod.

Bucky gave his hand a light squeeze. “Yeah.” His breathing hitched for a moment as Steve’s head dropped onto his shoulder. “Me too.” He let a beat of silence pass, allowed himself to soak up the closeness. “It’s not gonna be easy.”

Steve chuckled softly, not lifting his head from Bucky’s shoulder. “It never was.”

“No?” Bucky joked.

Steve laughed a little harder at that, still quiet as his shoulders shook with the laughter, the recognition that he had the opportunity for this when he thought he never would again. “No.”

“Least that didn’t change.”

Steve felt the slight pressure of Bucky leaning his head down against his own, felt the way his heartrate spiked at the realization of it. New and familiar all at once. Steve tried to breathe into it, allow himself to enjoy it. A tether in the midst of so much upcoming uncertainty.

He ran his thumb across Bucky’s knuckles. “A lot of things didn’t change.”

#bucky barnes #steve rogers #stucky #stucky fanfiction #bucky barnes fanfiction #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers x bucky barnes #bucky barnes x steve rogers #connect 4 au #bucky barnes event #alternate juneiverse #my writing #fanfiction #drabblesmc

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fe-fictions · 2 years ago

Text

Kagetsu x Alear commission (Alear has been acting strangely the last couple weeks, and Kagetsu is very concerned ;;;)

There had been a strange change in your behavior, so naturally it was your husband who noticed it first. You were much more aware of the temperature of hte food you were eating, determined not to eat anything “too hot”, in terms of temperature.

You also avoided hot baths, and you weren’t eating raw meat or fish the way you used to. Not only that, but you were no longer interested in your favorite perfumes anymore, either.

Whenever Kagetsu would ask you what was wrong, or why you weren’t enjoying certain things anymore, you just shrugged and looked away, a little smile on your lips.

It would have been cute if it weren’t so perplexing. And after about two weeks of your sudden shift in behavior, he was starting to get really worried.

“I am not sure what has plagued her, Princess Ivy.” Kagetsu confided in her during afternoon tea, looking more downcast than…well, ever, really.

“Have you asked her about it directly, Kagetsu?”

“Of course, my lady! Many times. But she does not wish to answer me.” He says, “I fear it may be something very serious.”

“Hmm…” She smiles to herself, taking a contemplative sip of her chamomile. “Well, it isn’t something I would speculate on, myself, but I have a few suspicions as to what’s going on.”

“Please, milady, if you have any suggestions as to what is happening to Alear, I beseech you to tell me! The longer I am left to think about it on my own, the more frightening it is!”

“Oh dear, you’re frightened?” Ivy remarked with faux surprise, her eyebrows raised as Kagetsu nodded gervently.

“I do not wish for my wife to be ill, or worse….so if you have any suspicions as to what is happening, I would be glad to hear them!”

“Well….my first thought was that she is extremely sick.” She confirmed, making his face pale. Kagetsu leaned bak ck in his seat, as though she’d just told him it was a death sentence.

“Y-you really…believe so?”

“I did at first, yes, but I think she’s got something more interesting going on. If she were deathly ill, she would have said so right awway. Not only that, but she’s smiling and laughing you off when you inquire for her heatlh, yes?”

“Yes…it is quite vexing.”

“Then that would lead me to believe that it is actually very good news, dear. Otherwise she would not be so coy.”

“Her new habits and her strange behaviors are a good thing?” His eyebrows drew together, absolutely unsure as to what was happening.

But Ivy just smiled. A coy smile that was just like the ones you’d been giving him. Now he was even more upset.

“That is the very same expression that the Divine Dragon has been making! Please, Princess Ivy, you must tell me what is going on! You must not shut me out, too!!”

“Oh, dear Kagetsu, I have an excellent idea of what it might be, but….I’m afraid it’s not something I can tell you…not unless it was her will that I tell you.”

“Princess Ivy…I cannot believe you would betray me like this!”

“You must go and speak with your wife. I am sure she’s only held off telling you because she wanted to find the right way to do it.”

“Do what?!” He almost wailed, but Kagetsu was tactful enough to hold himself back. Instead he finished his tea and rose with slumped shoulders.

If he needed to confront you directly, then he would do just that. He wouldn’t let you slip away with a mysteriously jovial expression and the promises of telling him later.

He had to know!

Kagetsu made a beeline for the stairs, hurrying up to the sanctuary and right upt o your bedroom door. He started to knock, before remembering that he was your husband and this was also his bedroom, too.

So instead he straightened his shoulders, steeled himself for confrontation, and opened the doors.

“Alear! I need to speak with you about-” He immediately paused, finding you sitting on the bed with Vander, knitting needles in your hands and a rather poor excuse for a knotted mess in your lap.

“Kagetsu? It’s unlike you to barge in unannounced.” You commented quite calmly (much to his chagrin), “Is something the matter?”

“Y-yes, actually. Many things, in fact! Vander, do you mind if I speak with Alear alone?”

“Not at all, milord.” He stood quickly, bowing to the Divine Dragon and then to her husband. “My lady, shall we continue our lessons later?”

“I’ll let you know. Something tells me the surprise is about to be ruined.” You nodded towards Kagetsu, serving to perplex him more. Vander’s eyes sparkled with great mischief (an expression unbecoming of such a stoic man).

“Very well. Lord Kagetsu, I leave the Divine Dragon to you.”

Your husband waited until Vander exited before he bolted the doors shut. Slightly concerned by this, you tilted your head curiously at your husband.

“Kage, what’s the matter? You aren’t planning some sort of afternoon tryst when Vander knows we’re in here alone, are you?”

“As tempting as that would be, that is the furthest thing from my mind right now.” He said seriously, crossing the room to stand before the bed. You were blocked in- trapped. You weren’t getting out of this conversation if he had anything to say about it.

“What are you thinking, dear?”

“I want to know why you have been acting so strangely. You are not telling me what is wrong with you, and we both know that your behavior has been very different for a while! I have spoken with Princess Ivy, and it was her recommendation I ask you about it directly. I do not want to hear excuses or promises of telling me later, Alear. I am worried about you and I want to know what is happening to my wife.”

Kagetsu’s very direct speech left you somewhat surprised, albeit pleasantly so. You smiled gently at your husband, setting the needles and yarn aside. You patted the spot next to you for him to sit.

“If it makes you feel any better, I’m not ill. The reason I haven’t told you what’s going on is because I didn’t want to ruin the surprise.” You explained, “I was trying to find the perfect way to tell you the news…which is good, by the way.”

“And just what is this news of yours?” His eyes narrowed, arms crossed. You bit back a grin, and instead placed the yarn in his lap.

“What do you think this is?”

“Yarn, Alear.” He held it up, eyebrows drawn. “Is it supposed to be a blanket?”

“No, actually. It’s just the front half. Vander has been teaching me how to knit clothes. Unfortunately, I’m still pretty bad at it.”

“I see. Ah, this must be part of a sleeve, yes?” He held out a particularly long, gnarled strip of yarn. You nodded, laughing sheepishly. “Hmm…it is quite small, my love. Is it supposed to be so little?”

“It is, actually. You see, it’s not for you. It’s for someone else.” You explained to him, “It’s for the same person who’s been causing my strange changes in behavior.”

“So it has been a person causing this?” He followed along slowly, “Have you been poisoned?”

“No, not at all. It’s nothing bad. It’s actually quite good, Kage. It’s…well, you see…that is supposed to be a sweater I was going to give you for a, um…a baby.”

“A baby.” He repeated, looking at the sweater again. It would indeed fit onto a baby, wouldn’t it? “And this baby…whose is it?”

You stared at him silently, watching his expression as he started to piece it together. He looked at the sweater, then back at you. The sweater again. You again.

Your hand was settled on your middle, and a wide smile crossed your lips.

“Alear…?”

“Kagetsu,” Your voice trembled, “I’m with child.”

His heart stopped.

Your husband’s mouth dropped open, the yarn falling from his hands. He gaped at you for a long while, as if he had utterly shorted out.

“W-what? You…you’re…!”

“For once, it seems you’re at a loss for words.” Your laugh was soft and sweet, waiting for the poor man’s brain to come back together.

“A-Alear!! Are you serious?! Are you absolutely certain??” He grasped your shoulders, and you could feel the quivering in his fingers. You nodded again, practically glowing.

“I’m exactly two months pregnant.” You confirmed. It was all he needed.

Kagetsu all but launched at you, throwing his arms around you and squeezing you tight to his chest.

“I can’t believe it-!! You’re pregnant!! Oh, gods, my Alear…!! My Alear is with child!!”

“Kage,” You laughed joyously at his sudden exclamations, nearly knocked over from Kagetsu’s enthusiasm. “Careful dear, you’re kind of smushing me.”

“O-oh!!” He immediately pulled back, holding you at arm’s length for fear of squeezing you too tightly. But when he saw your smile, it made all the joy rush back a thousand fold.

He couldn’t help it. Kagetsu pressed his lips to yours, cradling your face in his hands and kissing you dozens of times.

“Alear, my love!! My dearest Alear! I-I can hardly believe it…I cannot believe that you are pregnant!”

“I take it you’re quite happy, then?” You joked, covering his hands with your own. He stroked your cheeks with calloused thumbs, the tears welling in his eyes dangerously close to spilling over.

“Alear…Alear, Alear…I have never, ever been more happy in my entire life. Never did I imagine that…t-to think that I will be a father. That you will be a mother! That we will have a child together, and in such a short time!! It feels like a dream!”

“It does.” You confirmed softly, beaming at your sweet husband. Kagetsu touched his forehead to yours, “But it is real, my love. I promise. We’ll have a little one running around before you know it.”

“Oh, I cannot wait. I simply cannot wait!” He was grinning from ear to ear, even as you brushed away the happy tears dripping down his cheeks.

The man was not sure what he expected, going into the room that day. But the outcome was quite possibly the greatest he could ever expect.

Aside from you being perfectly fine and just messing with him, which also would have been welcomed.

But no, you were pregnant, and you were expecting to bring your child into the world in seven short months. He simply could not ask for a more wonderful surprise.

He would spend the next few days with you and Vander, also learning how to knit so he could provide some warm socks, hats and mittens while you tried to finish at least one sweater before the due date.

The sweater would not be finished, but at least the baby’s little head, hands and feet would be toasty warm.

#kagetsu #alear #fe 17 #fe engage #fire emblem engage #kagelear #kagetsu x alear #fluff #just pure straight up fluff #pregnancy fluff #fe fictions #fe-fictions #f!alear #fem!alear #f!mu #commission #writing commission #story commission #no but this one was so fun to finish up

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