#she chewed through a metal container to get them and then next time she smelled them she got so excited

[autism-freaks]

Modern edibles got no business tasting that good. I wanna eat the whole goddamn container just for the taste and I'm gonna end up like one of those dogs at the vet- drooling, leaning all my weight on the vet tech as I throw up into an empty litter pan all the while sporting the most blazed-as-fuck look on my face that says that mentally I'm no longer on planet earth.

And then I'd smell a new container of edibles and think I could do it all again.

[five-rivers]

Danny slowly loses his memories from before the Accident.

“I don’t remember that,” said Danny.  “Are you sure I was there?”

Maddie raised her eyebrows.  “I talked to you about it just last week,” she said. “When I was asking you about what you’d like to do during summer vacation.”

“I remember that,” said Danny, uncurling slightly from his position on the couch.  “I just don’t remember the other thing.  I... maybe we talked about something like it.  When was it?”

“You were twelve,” said Maddie.  “It was just before your birthday.”

Slowly, he shook his head.  “Sorry,” he said.  “I remember, um...  What other vacations did we have?  Before the one where you thought I was crazy, it was, um...” He held his hands as if preparing to count on them.  “We went to New York that one time.  And then the Great Lakes before that...  Oh!  And that haunted house road trip.”

He frowned down at his hands, and Maddie felt something unpleasant curl in her gut.  

“Is that...  All you remember?” she asked.  

“Y-Yeah?  I guess the others were from when I was too young to remember?”

“The haunted house trip was when you were five,” said Maddie.  “Danny... have you been,” she didn’t want to say it, didn’t want to piece together other little oddities into a big picture, “have you been forgetting things?”

“No!” said Danny, defensively, sitting up straighter.  “I’m just...”  He chewed his lip.  “It isn’t as if I’ve forgotten anything recent.”

His abysmal grades and missed curfews begged to differ.

“One second,” said Maddie.  “Stay here.”

She went to her room and fetched one of her largest photo albums.  Danny was still on the couch when she came back, picking at the hem of his pant leg, and staring blankly at the floor.  Maddie sat next to him, making him jump.  She opened the album to a random page.  

“What were we doing here?” she asked.  

“Um,” said Danny, brows pinching together in confusion.  “Shopping?”

“For?” prompted Maddie.  

Danny shook his head.  “It’s just shopping.  It isn’t important.”

“Danny, this is from when we got you that model spaceship.  The one you have hanging up in your room.”

Danny blinked, and slowly shook his head.  

.

The doctor’s office looked clean.  It even smelled clean.  Danny was still doing his level best not to touch anything.  Maddie would have sighed at his behavior, but she was too tense.  She met Jack’s eye.  He looked terrible too.

“There are no signs of Alzheimer’s disease,” said the doctor.  All three of them sighed with relief.  “However...  You said the other symptoms, the difficulty in school, began after the electrical accident?”

“Yeah,” said Danny.  

The doctor nodded.  “Electricity can do strange things to the brain, sometimes.  We haven’t been able to find any structural damage, but the activity levels...”  He brought a colored image up on his computer screen.  “This is where long-term memory is stored,” he said. 

“Doesn’t red usually indicate high levels of activity?” asked Jack.

“It does,” said the doctor.  “This is actually higher than usual activity...  Honestly, I don’t know what’s going on here.  I would like to request that you make a record of things that you currently remember as happening in your life, and then come back a month from now.”

“That’s it?” demanded Maddie.  

“Right now, since we don’t know what’s causing this,” said the doctor, “the best we can do is monitor the situation.  We don’t even know if this is an ongoing deterioration, or something more gradual.  On the upside, other than long-term memory, there doesn’t appear to be any damage.  Your timeline after your accident is clear and detailed.  The cognitive tests we put you through actually put you significantly above average...  This is what we can do.”

Maddie didn’t like it.  Danny didn’t look surprised.  Or even particularly upset.  

She caught Jack’s eye again.  They would have to be ready to support him, when the extent of what he had lost fully hit him.  

.

Danny floated down the icy hallway next to Frostbite.  “This isn’t going to be one of those examinations where I have to get undressed, is it?” he asked.  

Frostbite chuckled, but there was an undercurrent to it that usually wasn’t present.  “Only halfway.”  He paused to tap Danny on the chest.  “Your mind is no longer entirely contained in your head, after all.”

Danny rubbed at where Frostbite had tapped him.  “You don’t think that has anything to do with it, do you?”

“I’m unsure,” said Frostbite as they reached the examination room.  “It isn’t unusual for ghosts to lose their memories of their lives, but that is both more immediate and more complete.  Sit down here, and take your shirt off, Great One, and we can begin.”

Danny made a face at the item that looked like an overly complicated dentist’s chair with a large metal disk embedded in the back, but obeyed.  

“Here we are,” said Frostbite, pulling a complicated ring-shaped thing from the chair.  “This part goes around your head,” he said adjusting it to fit.  

Despite his cold core, Danny shivered at the frigidity of the metal.  

“These are to monitor your core, along with the matching one built into the chair,” said Frostbite as he attached several flat disks to Danny’s chest.  

“Are they, like, ultrasound?” asked Danny, running his finger along the edge of one of them.  He didn’t like how they stuck to his skin.  

“They work on a similar principle,” said Frostbite.  He turned on several nearby monitors.  “With this, we will be able to see how your brain and core react in tandem.  Can you transform for me a few times?  I want to compare with the baseline readings we took from you when you first stayed with us.”

“Sure,” said Danny.  

.

“Alright,” said Frostbite.  “Now, I am going to try sending a few low-intensity ectoplasmic pulses and currents through you.  Is that alright?”

“Sure,” said Danny.  

The first few left Danny feeling lethargic and tingly.  Other gave him so much energy he had to leave the room for a few minutes to burn some of it off.  Another, interestingly, turned off his ghost half, not unlike the Plasmius Maximus.

There was a rest period in-between each test, to make sure that they weren’t mixing results.  During those times, Danny and Frostbite would laugh and tell jokes and...

...  Danny trailed off in the middle of a sentence.  “Frostbite?” he asked after a minute.  “What was I just saying?”

.

“I want to stress that this is currently just a theory, Great One,” said Frostbite.  

“It’s okay,” said Danny.  “Just...  What is it?”

“Your memories are recorded in both your brain and your core.  You know this, correct?”

“Yeah.  You told me that a while back.”

Frostbite nodded.  “Normally, if one is turned off, the other one is still recording memories, and the memories will be transcribed.”

Danny nodded.  

“Or, if they are disconnected, in the case of the Plasmius Maximus, or your parents’ ‘Ghost Catcher,’ they will swap memories.  However...”

“Yes?”

“It is my theory that certain kinds of discrepancies between memories can lead to your core deciding that the discrepancy is an error and attempting to remedy it.  Great One, your core did not exist prior to your accident.”

“So, it thinks my memories from before that are wrong, and it’s getting rid of them.”

“I’m afraid it may be so.”

“Can you stop it?  I mean, you were able to artificially induce it, earlier...”

Frostbite made a face.  “The only things I can think of that could stop this would be unhealthy in the long run.  I do not believe you want to try to split yourself in two again.”

“No,” agreed Danny.  “Any-Anything else?”

Frostbite sighed.  “This is not something I can confirm,” he said, “but I suspect that the reason for your odd pattern of your memory loss is that the memories you dwelled on most often vanished first.”

“Oh,” said Danny.  “Because that would bring them to my core’s attention...”

Frostbite nodded.  

“Well.  That’s... not ideal.”

“I’m sorry, Great One.  Would that I could do more.”

.

“It’s all gone,” he said, without preamble, as he stood at Jazz’s door first thing in the morning.  

She looked crushed.  “Are you sure?”

Danny nodded.  “I remember remembering, but I don’t actually remember.  It’s weird and...  actually kind of a relief,” he said, tilting his head to one side.  

Jazz blinked rapidly.  “Are you going to tell Mom and Dad?”

He shook his head.  As his memories had disappeared, so had most of his remaining trust in his parents.  Between the memories of them caring for him, and the memories of them attacking or threatening him, the latter were more vivid.  

He still loved them, and his ghostly desires, that he literally could not remember living without, still focused on them, but that and trust were two different things.  It had been months since he’d started to fake retaining memories that he only knew about from reading his journals.  

“Sam and Tucker?”

This time, Danny nodded, the gesture much more enthusiastic.  “We were going to meet up later today, anyway.  Do you want to come with us?”

“Sure,” said Jazz.  She rubbed at her eyes.  “Give me a second.”

Danny nodded.  He wasn’t in a hurry.  “I’ll be downstairs.”

He could understand the grief.  He had felt it.  But it was over, now.  The only thing left was to make new memories.  

[flowerflamestars]

i remember that you once said something about privateer nesta could you elaborate? please? *shrek cat eyes*

WHO TOLD YOU I AM COMPLETELY VULNERABLE TO THE CAT EYES??

okay, so admittedly I don't remember the context in which I said this?? But I still SUPER super love the idea

and it matches with what we'll call the Dream ACOTAR Extended Universe Plot, almost canon.

We begin with the final battle against Hybern. Tamlin dies, closing the loop of his tragic, misspent life. Amren stays dead, a magical being on to the next adventure.

Rhysand stays dead.

He functionally (magically) threw himself on a bomb, and took the whole blast. He's not the Cauldron- and no one man could repair what it once was, but he could contain the fatal, drastic implosion of an object that was meant to endure forever, fractured into more and more peices.

Why is this important?

Because it leaves a world where Feyre Archeron- twenty-ish, romantic hero, prop, prisoner- becomes High Lady in her own, true right.

(I don't think she's necessarily good at this job, because why would she be? It's not even her fault- Feyre has no idea about how faery politics work, no real tangible knowledge of her own inherited kingdom.)

But both the men who stole her and defined her and loved her and hurt her are dead.

And it not only sets her on a journey to become, on her own, an actual character in her own life, but it galvanizes the Archeron sisters.

Feyre's basically fucking comatose after the battle. Elain has been a mess this entire time, but after that last fight with Grayson, walking into the war and stabbing a king in the throat- she is as vital and herself as Nesta has seen her in years.

Nesta just watched her father die and felt nothing- and she hates herself for it. She and Elain had taken the head of the man who stole everything from them- and she doesn't have a single regret.

Feyre screamed until she could no longer- there's so much magic seething out her it hurts to look at-

There's a dark well inside herself that could rise. But why should Nesta let it? So what, if she doesn't mourn her father? He'd never cared about her and Elain- not when they were young, too busy and important to even speak to his own children. Not when they lost everything, and he'd tried one last time to sell them both into marriages to recoup the family loss. Not after, in the starving cold, no matter what she'd tried to force him into action.

Nesta had been mourning all along a human girls human life- what is an absent, neglectful, shitty in the most ordinary of ways human parent if not a part of that lost future?

Their sister owns a fucking country- their sister is, at this minute so hemmed in by her followers no one can see her, much less comfort her- there's a war camp falling apart around them- there's Nesta, Elain, and Azriel, unhurt, upright, alive.

(she does not let herself think that an hour before she'd been ready to die and thought it right, the ending the meant to be conclusion of her story. she does not think about how she'd wished Cassian healed beneath her hands and that he had healed, that she'd wept to learn she could do more than destroy.

that she'd still been weeping, her mouth bright with his blood, when he'd pulled away, dragged himself to Morrigan's waiting arms)

Nesta Archeron is alive. Her sisters are alive. They're free, and she'll be fucking damned if this all falls apart before Feyre can heal.

Nesta turns to Azriel and asks if he can take control of the legions.

She has no time for his blank, angry eyes- she knows he's hurt, he's mourning, he's lost- but she needs him. Cassian's...down. Rhys is dead. Feyre and Morrigan are not coming out of that tent.

And he just listens. Thoughtfully. Asks what Nesta intends to do.

And Nesta looks at Elain- soft, kind, gentle Elain who'd never once wavered now when life was on the line. Who hadn't cried a tear for their father, or for the man who'd kidnapped and then married their baby sister.

The danger wasn't over- and neither had the steel faded from Elain's spine.

Nesta tells Azriel she's going to find Keir.

Nesta isn't blind- she's walked the Hewn City, spoken to the eldest darkness. She was also at the joke of a Summit- Autumn wants new territory, Keir wants to rule Night. And here Night is, weakened, a lamb to slaughter.

Nesta's not going to lose again- she's not going to give these ancient, cruel lords another chance.

Elain grabbed her hand and squeezed- the one person, always, who Nesta never need explain herself to.

Aren't the High Fae technically Morrigan's Elain asked, a bare whisper as they walked through the camp.

It went without saying yes, but Nesta had never seen any indication they respected her enough to listen to her. She made a face, and Elain made one right back, rueful. She had eyes too, after all.

They're not going to listen to us in these clothes, Elain also told her.

She was right, of course. They were High Fae, and that mattered to those vile pricks, but they'd been outfitted for flight. She would do almost anything, actually, to be free of leather pants.

Which Elain, a gleam in her eye that Nesta was learning meant magic, dreamy and happy- led her precisely to a gold topped tent, stepped inside, bowed, and asked without a trace of hesitation if Helion Spellcleaver, Lord of Day, would perhaps do them the favor of loaning them some garments.

Solid gold eyes gleaming against blood and smoke tinged dark skin, beautiful, glorious Helion, smiled.

Day-white against Night- but also, Nesta knew, taking care with her crown of a braid, the splatter of blood left on her throat, her mouth, her cheeks like fine paint- white was the color of death.

Elain covered herself completely- shawl wrapped over her hair, tucked around her neck, breathing easier now, in human modesty- but hung from a golden belt that Helion, with the clear air of someone who knew something about seers, had found, metal hammered with stars and flames, was Truthteller, the long blade without a sheathe, black metal swallowing up light.

Keir was easy to find, and in fine form, surrounded by Darkbringers, who looped back behind the sisters the second they were close.

Nesta was not afraid- she'd thrown power into the sky and it had hurt. Not in depth, but because she was still holding on- it wanted out-it wanted to devour-

Elain dipped a flagrantly rude, swallow bob of a curtsey. Nesta didn't even bother- just let Keir hail them, royal family that they were. He liked the sound of his own voice, but he was also clever- they'd come here of their own volition and now they were trapped.

She could smell the reinforcements, the utter Autumn reek.

Nesta interrupted, and asked Keir to come and swear fealty to her sister.

It was never going to get the right answer, but it had to be said. It had to be heard.

She'd been right- they'd been right- Keir enjoyed the cruelty of getting close to Nesta, denying straight to her Archeron face that no, Rhysand's bloodline was ended. It was time, it was right, for the House of Truth to once more hold their throne.

He spoke his treason aloud, looming over Nesta- close enough to touch.

So Nesta did.

She'd willed Cassian alive and whole. It was so, so much easier to remember fire, death, drowning, to push and want the revolting man's destruction.

And when he fell, silvered fire that had filled his lungs spilling from his throat, Nesta did not flinch. She looked to the next lieutenant, a frankly indistinguishable golden haired pale-eyed blandly handsome man in black armor, and asked, if he, as the new commander of the Darkbringers, would like to give a different answer.

He did.

Azriel met them halfway back to Feyre, grim mouth flickering for a second at the sight of Elain, before looking, stone-faced, at Nesta beside her, leading a crowd of the highest ranked Night Court faeries she could find.

Keir? He asked.

Dead, Elain answered, and that was that.

The Shadowsinger fell in step with the Seer, a threatening shadow to two pale beacons.

It was Azriel who actually went inside the tent. Who said what needed to said, what made Morrigan splutter loudly enough to be heard outside, before she burst out the tent in a whorl of hair, before blanching.

Nesta had just enough control not to roll her eyes. They come to swear fealty.

And Morrigan, chewing her lip with all the dignity of a child- Elain and Nesta had been trained out of such gestures at eight, what did she think was happening here? - shook her head. She's not well, it can wait.

No, Azriel said, from behind her, it can't.

He was supporting what looked like the entirety of Feyre's weight. Dead-white, blue eyes a blaze, Feyre looked blearily out at all of them like she recognized no one.

Elain, treasure that she was, came forward to take her sister's other hand, whispering both condolence and explanation.

And so the High Houses of Night knelt in battlefield mud, and swore eternal loyalty to the youngest Archeron.

It was only after they were gone that Nesta hugged her sister- hard enough Feyre protested, a fresh batch of tears soaking Nesta's shoulder even before Elain joined them.

It's Azriel, voice a little less like a phantom, who tells Feyre they're handling things. That if she wants to rest more, that's fine.

She was so clearly shattered- Nesta half wondered how much of that Azriel can literally feel/hear with his shadow...things.

Feyre protests that there's things to do- Feyre makes it halfway through a sentence about plans before she says Rhysand's name like he's still alive and collapses in on herself like a wave crashing.

Nesta and Elain tuck Feyre back into the blanket pile. Nesta manages to kiss her forehead before Morrigan is there, hugging Feyre putting herself bodily between the sisters.

They leave, and outside, Azriel is waiting.

To hand Nesta a gaudy, enormous platinum ring. The seal of the Night Court- Nesta recognizes it from shipping manifests, but she'd never actually seen it as an adult. Here, as a faery.

Her thoughts on Azriel's powers hold true, as he answers the dismay: Rhys only used it when he had to. It had passed between the whole Court of Dreams hands, there had not been a vizier, a lord of stars, since the time of Rhysand's father.

Nesta puts on the hideous ring, barely flinching at the brush of magic, it resizing to her hand.

Elain grasps her other, squeezing, and asks Azriel who is next.

They work ceaselessly, pausing only to sleep. Azriel, Nesta is quite sure, isn't sleeping at all- until she goes looking for him with a question and finds him finally, finally out cold, face tucked in Lucien Vanserra's neck.

In silence and gestures, they come to something of an agreement- and when the Night Court comes to the table to talk peace, it's with Lucien. Jurian, who Nesta immediately liked.

By the time they return to the North, there is not a Lord one who does not know the names and nightmarish qualities of all three Archeron sisters.

Feyre mourns, and learns to govern slow. Cassian goes back to Illyria and does not return for a long, long time. Morrigan becomes Feyre's second- Nesta laughs, not altogether kind, when Lucien tells her this. No one has been able to answer her as to why, if Morrigan is so powerful, why did she not fight? what does she actually do?

What answers to her questions she does find are appalling. Why does Winter block our every turn? oh, Rhysand killed more than a dozen children. Why is Summer refusing our trade? Well, Rhysand stole their ancestral pride. Why is the Hewn City so wrathful at even the slightest form of intervention? Because Rhysand had left Keir to rule alone.

Nesta doesn't want to rule the fucking court. She thinks she could leave all of these politicians to rot- but she won't let Feyre misstep her way to death, shouldering a burden of her dead mate.

There's nothing they can give Winter but apology and so that's what Nesta does. On her knees, in a gilded palace of ice, stars caught in her hair and the seal on her. Kallias, bright and young, seems to know something about inherited problems- he does not ever forget, but he forgives, at least, the Archerons.

Summer is more complicated- but Nesta does what she can. Gives them every melted, ruined piece of the Book. Offers reparations for the next millennia. Ends up paying for what she is appalled and embarrassed to learn is a two hundred year old debt for a building the head of the Night Court's armed forces- Cassian, fucking Cassian the ghost haunting Nesta- had destroyed. During a brawl. At a solstice party.

She deals only with Cressieda, and they come to understand each other very well.

Nesta was not raised for politics and bullshit- her mother wanted her to marry a crown, but Nesta wanted the family empire. Trade. The Archeron legacy, denied to a girl. She likes Summer more than any place in Prythian, and she doesn't hide that. She relearns old lessons of tide and routes in secret, before Cressieda reveals that of course, she knows who the Archerons were.

It goes well, until Morrigan finds out what she's been doing, and tells Feyre.

The youngest Archeron had been doing better. Morrigan has been right by her side, through everything. Cassian is in Illyria, and Feyre understands why, writing him letters. She writes letters to Rhys too, if only to have a way to direct the words.

Azriel, spectral and busy she sees the least of, but Feyre never doubts his presence, keeping her safe. Elain comes, drags her out into sunlight, brings Lucien and it makes Feyre happy to see them together. Nesta comes too, with them both and alone, with papers from Feyre to sign, with affection sharp-edged but true.

Feyre knows she owes them all more than can be said- she's not stupid, she knows they're keeping Night together. That slowly those responsibilities will fall to her, when she's ready.

She does not think about how much of those responsibilities is cleaning up the tangled mess of betrayal Rhysand left behind. In her head, there is only Rhys- beloved and shadowed, kind and tortured.

Until Morrigan tells her that it's been acknowledged, in public, by Night, that Rhysand was a thief, and a murder of children.

Feyre loses her shit.

Rhysand had done what he had to. Who was Nesta, to say such things? She'd always hated Rhys. Rhys had always hated her, maybe he was right- the children. Rhys had mourned them in screaming nightmares, but he hadn't hurt them-

(Feyre does not stop to think it strange, that Rhys could have nightmares of memories not his own. That he might have fractured just a bit, under Amarantha. That the Red Lady had no daemati- that was why she'd kept Rhys all along.)

The fight is as ugly as can be imagined. And what proceeds is of course, worse. Feyre says terrible things she will ultimately regret and apologize for, but what becomes clear is that Morrigan thinks that Nesta means to hold power forever.

That she's taken advantage.

And Cassian, called home by rage, believes her.

That is, more than her ungrateful sister, more than the ongoing weight of cleaning up after a man she despised for good reason, the end of Nesta Archeron's Night Court career.

She'd thought she loved him- she'd been willing to die with him- but they'd lived. This was the life, the next life, and what did he think of her? That Nesta was a power hungry snob. That she was paying too much heed to politics.

That Nesta belonged quietly at home. That she should have learned to fight somewhere along that way- a point so convoluted it made Lucien laugh- that she hadn't learned anything that mattered.

That she had no right to kill Keir, because it had hurt Morrigan.

Had he ever, Nesta would wonder later, even liked her? Enjoyed anything about her but for that magical tether, telling him he was blessed with something special?

Nesta was something special, and she knew it.

And so she returned the ring to Azriel, packed up her possessions, and left.

First to Day, where Elain had bought a house. Fury and tears both met the explanation of what happened- fury and tears that turned to getting inadvisably drunk in sunlight, when Lucien and Azriel snuck away to join them.

For the first time in Nesta's adult life, she had no obligations. Magic, money, freedom- the whole world was out there.

She stopped wearing black. Learned pants where actually lovely, when they fit correctly and weren't made of leather. Learned Azriel could laugh, and Lucien was as clever as she'd always thought.

She read books, she ate fruit, she took Helion up on several of his more lascivious offers.

She thought of Cassian, and it ached, but not enough to go backward.

Elain's house was by the sea, right on the water. The scent of salt reminded Nesta of Summer- but also of her oldest, most secret dreams. The warehouses of goods, like mysteries to solve. The account books she stole, learning by candlelight the trade in her blood.

Ten years after the war, Nesta bought a ship.

She set out to be a merchant, use what she knew, but what happened was this: Nesta Archeron did not care anymore for rules. And so when she came upon Hybernian remnants-for they were an island kingdom, even more one with the water than Prythian- pillaging a Summer town, she destroyed them.

She stole their treasure, gave much of it back to the people.

Found, unexpected, that she had much more of a taste for marauding than she would have expected. There was still trade of course- proft made and shared- but Summer needed someone willing to do some destroying out on the sea.

Twelve years after the war, Nesta Archeron became a privateer under the Summer flag, pearls in her hair and a true smile on her lips.

Things grew, as all things do. Feyre wrestled herself the reins of government, stymied by the councils Nesta and Azriel set up as much as she often was by Azriel himself out of truly petulant action. Morrigan remained second, golden blades bright as her gowns within reach. Cassian became a sort of seneschal, reigning over Illyria in Feyre's name cold and alone as the wind through the mountains.

(Feyre thought he might never get over the war, but Azriel knew the truth.)

Elain took herself wherever the future led, a sort of mediator and councilor, walking in all Courts- but always back to home, that isolated green, green cove, where Nesta would land.

When war came again, there was no great Lordly alliance, no cut-throat summit. There was a fleet of ships whose sails where edged in purple, whose announcement across the water was silver fire, whose accompaniment were monsters of old.

Violence did not touch Prythians human shore, because Nesta Archeron did not let it.

She was death on the tide, and she remembered what shores had borne her.

She had a home in Summer, a place in Day, her family across the continent- she had her ships, full of faeries from every walk of life, who wanted as she did the freedom as much as the profit, the endless, endless blue, where sea meets sky.

It was eternity, and the Archeron sisters, free, had made it their own.

[youarejesting]

Sly like a...? Part 9

[Master list] [Sly Master List] Beta: n/a (at the moment) Rating: All Pairing: Hybrid!BTS x FailedHybrid!Reader Genre: Hybrid au, fluff, action, adventure, angst, drama, slice of life. Some marked chapters will contain mature/smut scenes, BUT they will not have plot in those scenes and are 100% skippable without losing your place in the story. Words: 1.5k

Summary: Human’s strive to be better, faster and stronger looking to animal DNA. Thus Hybrids are born. As the rise for designer and Pedigree Hybrids increase, so do the failed attempts. There is one species scientists are unsuccessful in creating, but, folklore says they have been here all along, hiding and blending in with the humans for many millennia. How clever they are.

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Tonight you had decided to ask Hoseok what he wanted to eat for dinner. A quick knock on his always-open door and a peek inside showed him sitting on his bed. With his arms wrapped around his legs and his chin resting on his knees he looked young. He was staring forlornly at the wall, perhaps you thought he was feeling a little homesick. The city was much different from what he was used to. 

“Hoseok, hey?” You sat beside him the scent of fresh pine on his warm-toned skin. Waving your hand within his line of sight in an effort to gain his attention. The deer blinked, giving you a bright smile and a cheery laugh. 

“Sorry, I was lost in thought?” He straightened out his legs. You patted the soft comforter in front of you. 

“Shuffle your butt over here,” you spoke softly. He continued to face the wall and shuffled over, you pulled him to lay back against you, “Are you feeling homesick honey?”

“Yeah, I guess I miss nature. It’s just, it’s so bare” he muttered looking around his room, a desk with a laptop, a bed, and bedside tables he sniffed wiping his eyes on his sleeve. “I miss it.”

“How about we get you some plants as many as you want, to fill the room, if you really want we can tear up the carpet and lay down grass instead,” Hoseok laughed as you described a tall plant by his desk flowers on his bedside tables and hanging pots from the ceiling. “You can call them, that’s why I got you this,”

He nodded taking the phone you held out to him, he dialed a number and placed it to his ear. “Hello?” 

“Hello my sister,” he said, relaxing as he heard the familiar voice. 

“Hobi!” She called through the phone, which seemed to cause a commotion on the other end of the phone as many voices could be heard, “what is it like in the city? Are they treating you nicely? Have you been eating?”

“It’s really nice and everyone is so fun and nice and we eat lots of food together,” he cheered. The family was talking happily and you grinned scratching Hoseok's head happily laughing with him. 

“We are going to decorate his room with plants,” you assured his family that he was being treated well, “oh! tonight is your choice for dinner so what would you like?”

“Unnie, Hobi likes Japchae and meat,” his sister giggled over the phone and you leaned around Hoseok and grinned. 

“What you think Hobi-ah? Sounds good?” You used their nickname teasingly but in hopes, he would feel more at home and at ease around you. 

“Mm, Hobi wants japchae!” He said cutely, making you laugh, you gently pushed his firm and warm body until he was sitting up enough to slip out from behind him. 

“Alright, you keep talking I will round up Jin and Yoongi and we will get to work cooking,” bidding your goodbyes to Hoseok’s family, you headed out to the kitchen. Yoongi was tying up his apron and Jin was playing video games with the youngest of the group. 

You decided against asking Jin as he seemed truly engrossed in playing his video games. Sorting out ingredients and finding a recipe Yoongi and yourself shuffled around the kitchen. There were moments where you reached over where he was cutting vegetables and your shoulders would brushed and just for a second you would hear a small purr. 

Jin lost to Jungkook and pouted, scuffing his slippers as he entered the kitchen, “Ya! The game likes Jungkook better!” He whined, with a grin on your face you pulled him into a hug. Arms wrapping around his tiny waist as you buried your face in the soft sweater he was wearing, it smelt sweet like figs and his ears twitched. 

“I am just happy you tried your best,” you praised him, as you felt the vibrating chittering in his chest almost like a purr but more like a rattle. He nuzzled your hair breathing in your scent. You got him to join in with the cooking. Your instructions interrupted by Taehyung who was complaining about being hungry.

Sliding between the two hybrids to get past, you got some ingredients from the fridge. You sat at the breakfast bar mixing the ingredients in a big metal bowl. Taehyung had been your neighbor for at least five years now and you knew his favorite foods. 

“Try this and tell me how it is?” you held a ball of rice out in a plastic gloved hand and he leaned in eating it. His eyes lighting up. He gave a deep mmh-mm of approval and his tail was smacking Jungkook in the thigh, the young boy looking at the offending appendage and swatted it away.

“Me too, noona” He smiled pointing to his mouth and you popped one of the Jumeokbap onto his tongue. He chewed it happily his cheeks puffed full, a purr filling the room loudly. You turned to Jin offering him a taste, he praised it with a thumbs up.

Carrying the bowl around to Yoongi you smiled, “You want to try one Yoongi?” He didn’t reply but leaned his head towards you eyes on the food mouth opened.

He let you put one in his mouth, and you pressed your ear to Yoongi’s shoulder, his purrs were definitely the quietest out of all the felines in the house, they were ones that vibrated deeply in his chest but didn’t make too much noise unless it was really quiet and you listened intently.

“I smell tuna!” Jimin grinned bounding over his long legs barely touched the ground and he smiled, “Me love, one for me”

You were trying to roll one but he had started rubbing his face on your jaw and neck impatiently, as he purred sweetly, “I am making it as fast as I can,” the words barely came out through your giggles his soft hair tickling your neck, his ears twitching at the sound.

“Here try this one,” he leaned in wrapping his mouth around the rice ball his eyes never leaving yours. “Is it good?”

“Mm very good” he hummed standing behind you his hands wrapped around your waist as you made one for Namjoon. He held out his hand and ate it, nodding before awkwardly shuffling around waiting for the food to finish. Hoseok exited his room smiling brightly, it seemed the conversation with his family had eased his loneliness.

Namjoon at dinner was a little scary all he could see was food and his deep purrs were so loud that it almost sounded like thunder rumbling outside. You brought up the question at dinner and watched them all choke on their food. 

“It is only natural, I am just wondering when and if you know your rut schedule so I can put it on the calendar and if you need any assistance during this time we can look for a suitable companion or items that can relief your needs.”

Jungkook was bright red and Jimin thought honestly, “I don’t need assistance but if when I am not in my room we could cuddle,”

“I also do not require assitance I will just be in my room,” Namjoon said with a small reassuring smile.

“I have never had a rut,” Jungkook said his cheeks never losing their rosey colour, “They gave us a hormone blocker every six months so we would behave, we just got really annoyed”

You nodded they all seemed to agree that they would be fine on their own in their room but you thought you would look into somethings as a fail safe. After your goodnights to each of the boys giving them a sweet kiss on their foreheads, you sat on Jungkook’s bed and told him more of the stories of the fox.

“In Korean legends, the Kumiho is often described as a terrifying and sad creature that strives to become a real human. It is said that a Kumiho can turn into a real human by eating 100 human livers or by marrying a human and living with them for 100 days without their true identity being discovered. There are many more theories on how they came to be but they…”

Once everyone was tucked in, you spent the night in the lounge. Searching the web for eligible companions and items that could assist the seven young men. You hoped they were all settling in nicely. A figure appeared in the hall, ringing his tail in his hands, you gave a soft smile, surprised as the figure came closer.

It wasn’t Jimin as you had first thought, it was Jungkook, you walked him back to bed and he whispered, “I am nervous what if I do something bad during my rut?”

“I know your true nature Jungkook, I know you don’t want to hurt any of the boys or even myself and when the rut passes well then you will be back to the old Koo we know and love.”

“Can you sleep in my room tonight?” He said and seeing your apprehension he added, “Just until I fall asleep?”

“Alright just until you fall asleep.” Not knowing how exhausted you were and how the bed was so soft and enticing. You had fallen asleep almost instantly, letting Jungkook pull you into his arms and nuzzle your shoulder.

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[consumeconstantly]

Lady Cross (first aid)

Summary: Somehow, Marinette always ends up biting off more than she can chew. It started off with a kid and a nasty gash on their knee. The sudden escalation to treating the new head of Gotham’s underworld? It can only be explained by the fact that she’s catnip for trouble. 

_____________________________________________

Marinette supposed she should have expected something like this to happen eventually.

Really, she patches up a few street kids and offers a meal and some resources and suddenly she's made a name for herself in the slums of Gotham. It’s not like she’s doing anything revolutionary. Well, okay, maybe she does cheat a little bit and uses her healing powers on a few of the tougher cases that really should have been out of her realm of expertise, but she’s living near the slums of Gotham for a reason. That reason being Marinette is just a little broke and can’t really afford to send everyone she comes across to the hospital, and the people who are injured certainly can’t. It’s not like she can leave them to die. That would be heartless.

When she stopped treating scrapes and cuts for kids on the streets as she came across them and instead found her apartment balcony frequented by families who needed her help, she couldn’t just say no. And so, more and more serious wounds started coming in. Kids brought their parents and friends. The parents and friends brought... well, if the police stopped by her apartment any time soon, she’s fairly certain they’d have a field day.

But again, it’s not like she’s going to turn these people into the police when they’ve come to her for help and have a small army of people who swear up and down that they’re good people and only doing what they have to do in order to get by.

Morality comes in such a variety of shades, who was she to judge? Ladybug and Marinette have both certainly had their fair share of mistakes that they’d gladly go back in time to rectify, and her hands weren’t clean of blood either. Sure, the Miraculous Cure may have brought people back, but their deaths were still on her. And Hawkmoth? Yeah, he’s alive now, but she hammered him into the pavement after dropping him from the top of the Eiffel tower, and she’s not going to pretend that she didn’t take a bit of morbid joy in that moment.

But back to the matter at hand. Which was, the notorious Red Hood—responsible for a coup amongst Gotham’s drug dealers and responsible for taking down a man whose morality truly vanished with the wind, Black Mask himself— was currently bleeding out on her second floor balcony, smoking a cigarette and lounging against the rail like he owned the place. 

“Lady Cross,” he inclined his head.

“Red Hood,” Marinette returned his greeting.

God, she really didn’t want to get involved with Red Hood. She wasn’t opposed to helping out street thugs and criminals, but Red Hood was a different league. He seemed to be a fairly decent guy, ensuring that kids weren’t dealt drugs and tried to keep them out of the circuit as much as possible. He took down plenty of worse criminals while he was at it. In fact, Marinette would go so far to say the Red Hood as one the good guys.

But the issue was, once she started treating people of a certain level, she’d be open game. And that didn’t seem very enticing to her. Not at all. Everyone knew that Red Hood had beef with the Bat Family for some reason or other, and also made enemies with almost every single rogue in Gotham, and a good number of enemies outside of it as well. Basically, Red Hood was a universal enemy of both the vigilantes and rogues. Someone she shouldn’t get involved with while she was trying to investigate the darkness surrounding Gotham whole running her online boutique and going to college at Gotham University.

Unfortunately, Tom and Sabine and her own stint as Ladybug taught her that she could never ignore someone in need. Marinette sighed and slid the mesh open, leading Red Hood to her living room. “Let’s get this over with, shall we?”

“Real nice place you got here,” he said.

With the mask covering the whole of his face, Marinette had no facial expressions to figure out whether he was poking fun at her current living situation or not. His voice sounded genuine, but vocal emotions were easy to fake.

The apartment she was living in was not on the nice side of town. There were three bullet holes in the wall between her living room and bedroom that she just didn’t have time to patch up, some pretty nasty looking stains on the ceiling near her kitchen, and a huge, spray painted red cross on one of her walls, which was where her street name derived from. Her floor and coffee table were also in states of disarray; she hadn’t gotten the opportunity to clean up after working on two commissions and the last guest whose wounds were heavy enough to warrant several rolls of gauze, which was now half stuffed into a garbage can sitting next to rolls of fabric. Perhaps not the neatest or most sanitary situation, but she didn’t have time to clean up before every single one of her unexpected guests came in.

Look, it wasn’t her fault that she didn’t have time to fix things up real nice and neat. She’d only been living in the apartment for a month and a half, and most times, she barely spent any time in it other than to sleep, cram last minute projects for her design course, or to help heal people. Her living situation wasn’t the biggest of worries.

“Sit,” Marinette gestured to the one of the few pieces of furniture that she specifically bought for the apartment. She didn’t mind the stained, half broken, and extremely creaky couch the last owners left behind for the first week, but after she started bringing back her first… visitors, it seemed important that the couch was comfortable, sturdy, and most crucially, cleanable.

Rummaging through a cabinet, she pulled out a tattered briefcase she thrifted a while back to keep all of her medical supplies in. Not the prettiest of things, but she tried not to keep expensive looking items in her apartment because she wasn’t a fan of getting mugged. The medicine she kept was already expensive enough, she didn’t need to attract everyone’s attention by owning one of those metal containers used in hospitals. Even though most of the people who dropped by her apartment were thankful to be treated, she had a few instances where people tried to steal things from her.

“What’s the damage, doc?” Red Hood’s voice came through rather tinny through his helmet. 

Marinette grimaced. The helmet must have awful air circulation. It looked like some sort of metal, and wet and metal never smelled good together. “I don’t know, you tell me.”

“Thought you were supposed to be some mystic healer who came from the far east.”

She paused and looked at the man, trying to judge whether he was racist as well as rude. “That’s rather insulting.” 

Red Hood shrugged. Marinette applauded the man for showing no outward sign of pain at that, even though there was a bullet embedded in his shoulder, and shrugging had to bite. “That’s what the word on the street is, though you sound French to me. Thought I’d come and check out who’s healing Gotham’s criminals. What’re you planning?”

“Sorry to foil your plans, but I’m not planning anything other than getting my college degree and not pissing off the people I live near.” She paused, flipping the lock on the briefcase upwards. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t use me as your go to healer from now on. You’re going to bring trouble my way.”

“Trouble? Me? Perish the thought.” His hand rested comfortably on the holister of his gun, ready to shoot if the girl pulled out a weapon from the briefcase. “We’ll talk about repeat appearances after I see how you do today.”

Marinette rolled her eyes. “Any wounds other than the obvious?”

“Just need the bullet out, and some stitches on the gash.” His shoulder and his abdomen, respectively. The gash looked nastier than the bullet; no shrapnel, but the cut on his stomach was jagged and wide. Not a normal, sharp blade. Probably needed a good cleaning.

She grabbed the tweezers, a sterilized needle, and medical thread. “That’s fine. Now are you going to undress, or am I going to have to cut your… costume… up?”

“Getting me naked already? We haven’t even had our first date yet.”

“Very funny, little Red Riding Hood. Now hop to it. I have class at 9 tomorrow and projects to finish tonight.” Somehow, trouble always seemed to find her when she least wanted it to. Not that she wanted to have trouble find her at all, but luck was a two way street, and for all that being Ladybug granted her good luck, she attracted criminals like catnip. 

“And here my informants had me thinking you were a regular Florence Nightingale.”

Marinette snorted. “They wish. I’ve got to ask who told you, because everybody should know the rules. You know, the ones where they don’t speak of my existence to their higher ups?”

“I’m not a rat,” Red Hood said, taking the top part of his outfit off. “And it’s not like you would have gone unnoticed anyways. You might be treating small timers now, but people catch on to healers pretty easy.”

“Because some gauze and sewing skills make me such a prime target.”

“No, your magic does.”

Shit. Marinette never told anyone she was using magic, and she rarely used it unless it was a dire situation. If she could patch them up using regular skills, she did. 

“Yeah right, if I had magic healing powers, do you think I’d be shoving my fingers into your shoulder to get a bullet out?”

“Not a very good liar, Lady Cross. You have this deer-caught-in-the-headlights look about you.”

“Thanks for the compliment. I’m also the deer that tramples through your windshield and takes a dump on the driver’s seat.” She maneuvered the tweezers a little rougher, hoping to make Red Hood hiss in pain. He just chuckled, amused. His high pain tolerance was getting rather annoying. She had half a mind to pour hydrogen peroxide over the wound just to see if that would make him show he was in pain, but thought better of it. Even though she didn’t like the man, she also didn’t want to piss him off. Or worse, have him come back and make her fix him up again. 

Threading the needle, she made quick, small stitches on his shoulder, sewing the bullet hole up, then put some petroleum jelly to speed up the healing process and reduce scarring. At least the wound was in a position that didn’t require a lot of gauze. She needed to go out and buy some more soon. She barely had enough to wrap around Red Hood’s waist.

“So, the magic,” Red Hood started. “Is it a conditional thing? Can you not use it all the time?”

“Again, I don’t have magic.” Marinette did have to use some antibacterial on the knife wound. He would need to take good care of that one to make sure it didn’t get infected. 

“So a meta, then. What are you doing in Gotham? Everybody knows Batman hates metas.”

“Not a meta, either, sorry to disappoint.” She tied off the gauze, then stood to wash her hands. “Make sure to clean the stomach wound well. Hope you have your tetanus shot, otherwise you should look into getting one.”

“Surprisingly, I’m inclined to believe you on the not-a-meta thing. Back to the first thing, then. Magic. Why don’t you show me the old razzle dazzle? Do you have to say one of those weird spells like the godmother in Cinderella? Bibbity bobbity boo?”

“You’re hilarious,” Marinette dead panned. 

“How’s this for magic? Bibbity bobbity boo, kindly leave. Shoo.” She followed his suggestion, made a show of jazz hands as well. “Pity I don’t use magic otherwise you’d be gone now. Anyways, it’s time for you to make your exit. It would be great if you didn't visit me again. Ever. Thanks.”

She ushered him out onto her patio, then slammed the sliding door. He saluted her before dropping off the side of the building. She could imagine the man under the helmet smirking.

Marinette ran a hand through her loose hair. “He’s going to come back, isn’t he.”

@jasonette-july-2k20

[svnflowervol666]

Fried Rice and... Kiwi? (Harry Styles x fem!Reader)

Word Count: 2.5k

Author’s Note: Happy third birthday to HS1! Here’s something short and sweet in it’s honor. I came across this gif earlier today and all I could think about was lying on Harry’s tummy and listening to him talk about the album. Hence, this fic was born. Obviously, I had to turn it into dad!Harry, because that’s all I can manage to do ever. Like, literally ever. But, regardless! Enjoy, take care, and TPWK. gif by @stylesinthewild​!!!

Three sequential knocks on the weighted, wooden door broke up the playful banter occurring in the studio. It wasn’t a request to enter, more so a signal of arrival and a warning - she was coming in whether they liked it or not. 

“Delivery!”

Smells of grease and soy sauce filled the nostrils of everyone inside as she cautiously maneuvered her way around discarded instruments and cords and towards the coffee table with a both arms full of enough take out to feed a small army.

“God, thank you! You’re the best! Been starvin’ all day,” Jeff piped up from the armchair he’d been sitting in.

“Genuinely! You didn’t have to come all the way across town to bring us dinner,” Sarah added, hair aloof and sticking up around her head as if she’d been running her fingers through it incessantly over the past few hours.

“Well, someone,” Y/N sneered, cutting her eyes back to Jeff, “keeps stealing my man away from me and I’m tired of waiting for him at home, so I figured I’d just pay him a visit here instead.”

“A simple, ‘You’re welcome, Jeff,’ would’ve done ya just fine!” he sarcastically fired back as the rest of the room doubled over in laughter.

Harry was up and out of the cushion he’d been slumped back in to grab the paper bags that were balanced on top of his girlfriend’s arms so he could take her hands in his and guide her towards him.

“Tip your driver?” she cocked her head to the side and pursed her lips down at him when he sat back down.

“Hmmm,” Harry toyed with her comment, pretending to pat down his pockets in search for change, “‘Ve only got my undying love and affection and an endless amount of kisses. Will that do?”

“I suppose,” Y/N huffed, leaning in to press her lips chastely against his.

“Okay, let’s see if I got this right,” she directed her attention back to the group as she fished around the bags of food.

“Beef and broccoli for Mitch?” The long-haired, almost-resembling-jesus brunette smirked and nodded as he leaned over to take the white carton from her hands.

“Kung Po chicken with extra sauce for Sarah,” Y/N stated confidently. She knew that one for certain.

Sarah bowed graciously as she swiped a handful of duck sauce from the bag after taking her order from Y/N.

“Hot and Sour soup for Adam and Jeff.” 

She handed Adam the plastic tub of hot liquid as if she was presenting him a sacred piece of treasure and cast Jeff’s soup away dramatically as if to say she was still fake-mad at him for keeping Harry holed up in the studio for long hours and couldn’t care less if he spilled the damn thing in his lap or not.

“You’re too kind,” Jeff scoffed, earning a pointed middle finger in his direction from Y/N.

“And last but certainly not least,” she grabbed the two remaining cartons by the thin metal handles and presented one to Harry, “Veggies for the boy.”

“Thank you, lovie,” Harry responded earnestly as he grabbed utensils for the both of them, chopsticks for him and a fork for her (he’d tried to teach her more times than he could count to use chopsticks properly but she could never quite get the technique down successfully) and dug into the steaming heap of vegetables packed to the brim of the container.

It was peacefully quiet as everyone chowed down on the takeout Y/N had brought in, everyone coming to the realization of how hungry they’d gotten after spending the entire day writing, composing, and recording an album. Harry and Y/N sat on opposite ends of the couch, her feet resting comfortably in his lap.

“Wha’ did you get?” Harry asked through a mouthful of food.

“Rice.”

Harry frowned.

“Just rice?”

“Wasn’t that hungry,” Y/N shrugged, “Plus, I might have eaten the leftover pizza from the other day right before I came.”

“Still. ‘S not good f’ you. Need t’ be eating better than tha’,” the newly short-haired brunette (Y/N may have shed a tear when he told her he was cutting it) gathered an assortment of sauteed vegetables with his chopsticks before leaning over the couch and dangling it above her lips, waiting for her to open her mouth and accept the bite.

She managed to catch it all, sans a thin strip of onion that she quickly slurped up before it fell and wiped the remaining sauce from the corner of her mouth with her knuckle.

“You two disgust me,” Jeff called out from across the room, a scowl adorning his features.

Harry smiled that obnoxiously cheesy shit-eating grin that he had become infamous for having in his manager’s direction, being sure to push the chewed up broccoli to the front of his teeth to only add to Jeff’s so-called repulsion.

“I think you’re just jealous that the attention’s not on you,” Y/N stated matter-of-factly, “I’m carrying precious cargo. It’s part of the job description now.”

She gave a snide and over-dramatised rub over her swollen belly where hers and Harry’s unborn child was nestled conveniently on top of her organs, making it harder and harder to move around and have any kind of energy as of late.

“If I recall correctly, I’m carrying his career. ‘S pretty precious if you ask me.”

With a roll of her eyes, Y/N plopped her half-eaten side of fried rice onto the table in front of her and shifted her body so that she was lying in Harry’s lap, her head resting perfectly where his thighs met his toned, yet somehow still soft tummy. Harry acclimated to her new position with ease, freeing one his hands so he could pet her hair gently.

“What did you guys work on today?” she asked, her fingers slipping under the hem of Harry’s shirt to absent-mindedly rub the sparse strip of hair that trailed down from his navel and disappeared into the waistband of his boxers that were just barely peaking through the top of his jeans - similar to how he stroked her bump when they cuddle in bed at night.

“Finished up the master for Two Ghosts and added the keys to Woman, but tha’s about it. Started playin’ with another one, but I’m not sure that it’s gonna go anywhere.”

“Yeah? Was it the one you were playing for me the other night?”

Harry shook his head through another bite of his food and swallowed.

“Think we’re gonna do tha’ one next week. We were just messin’ ‘round w’ this one. Doubt I’ll ever go back to it after today.”

“Well, can I at least hear it before you scrap it?”

Harry bit the inside of his cheek and peered around the room, trying to locate the hard drive that held all of their practice runs and demos.

“Did they take the laptop when they left?” he asked.

“Nah, it’s still here. Let me go get it,” Jeff promptly shimmied out of his seat, stuffed to the brim with tofu and bamboo shoots that were mixed into his soup, making him move a bit slower than he had earlier.

Whilst Jeff was digging around in the back room in search of the song Harry was almost certain would get lost deep down in the numerous files of unfinished songs and melodies, Y/N tapped Harry’s stomach with her pointer finger to get his attention and opened her mouth, signaling she wanted another bite of his food. He dropped the veggies into her mouth gingerly, making sure to avoid staining his shirt or accidentally dropping a carrot on Y/N’s nose.

“Thank you for comin’. Missed ye’ all day,” Harry spoke in a whisper so that only Y/N could hear him.

“Missed you too,” she mumbled through her chewing, “She doesn’t move much when you’re gone. Think she misses you more.”

In that moment, he was thankful she wasn’t lying on his chest, because she most certainly would have heard his heart combust and scatter like confetti into his gut at the mention of his sweet baby girl that was set to arrive in a few months time.

“’S she kickin’ right now?”

A wide grin appeared on Y/N’s face and she nodded, taking the chopsticks out of Harry’s hand so she could move it down her waist and press it against the underside of her belly where their daughter was seemingly doing summersaults in the presence of her father. 

It always amazed him, each and every time. How there was a human being growing inside of her and he had a hand in creating her. Although he hadn’t met her just yet, he was postive she was the most precious and sweetest creature he’s ever known.

Bursting the sugary sweet bubble they’d trapped themselves in, Jeff arrived promptly with the laptop tucked under his arm. He brought it to life, skimming the dozens of folders within the drive until he found the one he was looking for. 

“Found it!” he announced to the room.

“Alright, let’s hear it.”

As if it would allow her to hear the song more clearly, Y/N lifted her head from Harry’s lap and sat up beside him instead. She leaned against his shoulder, letting her fingers intertwine with the ones attached to his arm that was pressed against hers.

The beginnings of an electric guitar and Harry’s voice filled her ears, Y/N immediately clocking the sound as something unlike anything he had previewed for her thus far. It was heavier, more akin to the style of an actual rockstar that graced stages across the country in tight pants and ooze sex appeal from every pore in their body (not that Harry didn’t already do that). 

Next, she heard the heavy pounding of drums, to which she gave Sarah a raise of her brow and look of approval for her skill. She had absolutely no explanation for the way this song Harry had been so pertinent about tossing in the trash was making her press her thighs together to mediate the heat rising within, but it was there. The dull, persistent throb that made her wish her and Harry were the only ones in the room so that she could straddle him right there on the couch and have her way with him.

Pregnancy hormones. Yeah, that’s what it was. Well, at least that’s what she was telling herself.

And then she heard the chorus.

I’m having your baby. It’s none of your business.

She cut her eyes to Harry, who was undeniably blushing and had his face buried in his free hand as if he was scared to see her reaction. He was smirking underhead his palm, knowing good and well that she was staring at him as the lyrics repeated themselves over and over and over again. When he finally decided to peak through his fingers, he was met with her wide-eyed and stunned expression, to which he burst into a fit of giggles that shook his belly and made his sides ache. Y/N couldn’t help but join in on the laughter, shaking her head at his bluntness, for lack of a better word. 

The song wasn’t long at all as it was clearly choppy and unfinished and a product of Harry, as he’d said in his own words, messing around with his friends. Sure, it needed some cleaning up and could use a bit more substinance, but it was by no means bad or anything worth chucking in her opinion. It was very much a song written about her, so she felt like she could stand confidently by that opinion.

“Well, shit,” Y/N huffed as the instruments came to an abrupt hault and all that was left of the recording were dwindling laughter and shuffles in the background while whoever was in charge of the sound board moved to cut the microphones, “That gets right to the point. Doesn’t it?”

“That’s what we said,” Sarah managed to get out in between wiping the mascara from under her eyes that ran when she was laughing at her dear friend’s reaction.

“I mean, I don’t think it’s bad at all. Needs some cleaning up, but I think you should keep working on it,” Y/N said honestly, prying Harry’s hand from his face so she could kiss him on the cheek.

“Oh, gee. Thanks. Didn’t know you were on payroll as a producer too,” Jeff called out contemptuously.

“Umm, without me, you wouldn’t have half of this album. Think I can say whatever I want about the matter. Thank you very much.”

Harry pressed his lips together and pointed at her with his fingers shaped like a handgun as if to corroborate what Y/N had just said.

“Yeh actually liked it though?” there was a hint of surprise in his voice.

He hadn’t expected that. He’d expected a smack on the chest or a scold, not praise.

Y/N smiled at the bashful boy beside her, picking a piece of fuzz from the collar of his shirt and flicking it off to the wayside.

“’S gonna have everyone’s panties in a bunch, that’s for sure.”

She picked up Harry’s arm and draped it around her shoulder so she could properly snuggle into his side.

“That damn kiwi,” she said with a playful sigh.

“Pardon?” Harry looked down, bewildered, to see Y/N busying herself by gently poking the taut skin of her tummy in attempt to get their baby to poke her back with her tiny hand or foot, there was really no way of telling which was which.

“That’s when I said that to you,” Y/N yawned, “I was craving kiwi and fuming mad because you ate the last one and when you asked why I was so worked up about it, I told you it’s because I was having your baby, but it wasn’t any of your business.”

The recollection immediately dawned on Harry, making him smack his forehead with a closed fist.

“That’s where that came from! I couldn’t remember what happened, but I’ve always thought that was the funniest thing you’ve ever said t’ me.”

“Ehhh, it’s top ten for sure. Wouldn’t say the funniest, but it’s up there.”

Harry rolled his eyes at her indifference, but he won’t lie and say that it wasn’t one of the things he loved about her the most. How even though she can be the biggest pain in his ass, she always finds a way to bring light into his life and make him smile even it seems next to impossible.

“So yeh think it should stay in the running?”

“Definitely. If I wasn’t already pregnant, I’d beg you to put one in me right here in this studio after hearing it,” she said nonchalantly.

Jeff mocked a gagging noise, “I think I’m genuinely going to hurl.” 

“Oh, be an adult for once in your life, Azoff!” Y/N quipped.

Harry stiffled his laughter into her neck, tickling the tiny hairs that rose to goosebumps with each breath he exhaled onto her skin. 

“I don’t think you understand, Y/N. I hear about you two every damn day in this studio. ‘S just like you said, the whole bloody album is about you two not being able to keep your hands off of each other for five seconds. ‘M surprised it’s taken you this long t’ get knocked up.”

Harry remained tight-lipped, having reduced his giggle fit to a minimum as he watched two of the most important people in his life bicker back and forth like children fighting over a toy. He supposes, in this case, he is the toy in question, but it was entertaining nonetheless.

“Gonna make a damn good album, though. Isn’t it?” Y/N’s haughty smirk answered that question all on its own.

[glitxhwayventeen]

Lonely Together

Jihoon: Chapter 4 (Waves)

Characters: Jihoon x female reader

Genre/Warnings: multi-member au (different scenarios), werewolf au, fantasy, fluff, suggestive content, mentions of marking, angst (kinda maybe sort of?). Any others will be put as warnings when future chapters are thought up/written. Please let me know if I missed anything!

Author’s Note: So I’m trying to not make every story super depressing. At least for now. So I took a shot at some average fluff for Jihoon’s chapter. Let me know what you think! It’s a bit short, but I’ll edit it some more to juice it up when I have the free time.

Please remember that all of these chapters and the content within them are a work of fiction! They’re just for fun/entertainment!

Bold= Dialogue Italics= Thoughts

☁️

Lonely Together Masterlist

Chapter 4: Waves

You were still getting used to everything, which no one could blame you for. You weren’t used to being around humans let alone lovey happy couples all the time. It was all… disorienting to you. You understood why the rest of the pack acted the way they did with their mates, in a way you also felt some primal need to be the same with Jihoon. But it was just… quite a big adjustment for you.

It wasn’t bad by any means! You knew you’d get the hang of most of it eventually. But there were some things you weren’t sure you’d ever get used to. Like the constant PDA of the couples around you. You didn’t understand the need to be that close to someone all the time or need to be that handsy. You always wondered if maybe Jihoon wanted to be like that, but you never really had the courage to ask in case you wouldn’t like his answer.

You also knew you’d never really like the fact that the pack seemed to refer to you more as a mate than as a wolf. You grew up being a wolf above all else, you considered yourself a wolf first. Now, you were Jihoon’s mate. Just one of the girls. You ate with them, you hung out with them, and you were treated like them even though you were just as strong if not more so than most of the males. Soonyoung didn’t get treated that way even though he was technically Seungcheol’s mate. It seemed unfair. That thought seemed to leave a bitter metallic taste in your mouth, but you just dealt with it because that’s just how it was now.

And you knew you’d NEVER understand the need to give your partner sweet little gooey nicknames. I mean, who the hell decided it was an adorable idea to start calling the person they fuck baby? How the hell was that SUPPOSED to be cute? It was creepy to you. You could tell it visibly bothered Jihoon that you hadn’t called him anything other than his given name, but you just couldn’t bring yourself to call him by anything else. Every cutesy petname you could think of just felt… wrong to you. Sweetheart? Shit didn’t make sense. Hearts were NOT sweet. Sugar? He wasn’t composed of glucose or fructose so that wasn’t right. Prince? He wasn’t royalty, well, at least not that neither of you knew of. Daddy? Even creepier than baby. So you just opted to leave it at Jihoon.

As for you and Jihoon, you’d been doing alright. You were still rather shy around each other, but you were definitely more obvious in your affection with each other. For instance, at breakfast you always seemed to find yourself scooting your chair as close to his as you could manage. And he always made sure you were within his sight. You weren’t sure why. Where could you have possibly gone when you were stuck with a bunch of wolves? But it did make the chambers of your heart constrict extra whenever you noticed him trying to look for you. You had to admit, It was kinda cute.

There was still one problem. You two hadn’t… consummated your bond yet. You were still unmarked even though it had now been weeks of being in the same house together. He hadn’t even tried to sleep with you. It had you confused, shouldn’t he have wanted to have sex with you by now?

-

“Dude quit being a little bitch and just do it already!” Soonyoung groaned at his younger brother while he pinched the bridge of his nose.

You were currently outside learning how to play soccer with Somi, just far enough away to where you couldn’t hear what was going on inside. They were all watching you guys from the window. You felt someone staring at you so you looked up from the ball next to your feet towards the house. Your mate was eyeing you and had a fond smile flashing brightly at your from his spot. You gave him a sweet one back with a little wave added before you continued on with your fancy foot maneuvering past the younger girl and scored a goal, causing you to jet your hands in the air in celebration. God he loved you.

Jihoon looked away to sigh and he ran his shakey hand through his slick hair, “But how am I supposed to do that? You fuckers are here every second of everyday and she can hear everything that goes on the same as I can. You’re all way too distracting. If she’s anything like me-” He was cut off before he could finish his sentence.

“Which she is.” Mingyu stated with a giant grin on his face while crossing his arms over his chest.

“IF she’s anything like me, she doesn’t want you guys listening in or around when we’re going at it. She’s too private for that” Jihoon emphasized, trying his best to contain his annoyance at the taller boy for his smugness, “Plus, you’re all too lovey with each other, it makes us both awkward and uncomfortable.” He admitted.

Joshua laughed and slapped his hands on his knees where he was sitting down at the table, “So you’re telling me that WE make YOU GUYS uncomfortable? Have you ever even been in the same room with yourself? You’re both ridiculously intimidating to the girls because you’re so quiet. WE know it’s because you’re just shy. But THEY all think you’re some sort of psycho killer dude!”

“Yeah if looks could kill, we’d all have been long dead by now!” Snorted Wonwoo, who had his arm wrapped around his mate possessively.

Jihoon raised his chest out defiantly, slightly annoyed at his pack mates for making fun of his cold exterior, “Yeah? Well at least I can keep my hands off my mate for more than a split second!”

He never really understood the need to keep partners away from other people. That is, until the other day when Chan had accidentally brushed up against your front while trying to reach for a plate. He all but chewed him up and spit him out for it, though you didn’t know that as he did it once you had gone up to bed. He couldn’t help it. His inner wolf just snapped at the poor kid. Though looking back, he’d still do it again. No one should be touching you but him.

“Not for long. You’re getting soft. You’re laughing more at the things she says, you’re joining us on errands more because she goes with, you’re getting more and more protective over her because she’s not marked and you don’t want anyone taking her away from you” Mingyu proudly spoke up much to Jihoon’s shock. He happy that he had taken the smaller wolf off guard with his statement, “You’re getting just as whipped man. You want my advice?” He asked, seeming pretty genuine with his question.

Jihoon nodded at him. Mingyu was surprisingly one of the few who could actually keep a few feet’s distance from his mate. Out of everyone in the pack, he would’ve DEFINITELY expected him to be the one most likely to be attached to his lovers side. But he when he found his mate, he didn’t get possessive over her at all. He just let her do her own thing with relative freedom. He figured he must have had some sort of secret behind being able to control himself and, for your sake, Jihoon figured he should take any help he could get before he got bad.

“Mark her as soon as you can. It helps. You wont get as jealous, at least around us, because we’ll smell you on her.” He shrugged towards his elder, quickly going over and kissing the top of his mates head who was sitting on the ground braiding Josh’s mates hair.

The thought of marking you sent a weird feeling through Jihoon’s veins. He WANTED to. But the real question was, would you LET him? “I don’t know. It could help I guess. But again, you bitches are always here and if I EVER want to do anything with her, you assholes can’t be anywhere near or she’ll refuse.”

“Okay okay! What if we were to all go visit Taeyong’s pack later? Then would you get the stick out of your ass and just fucking get it over with?” Seungcheol interjected with a heavy chuckle.

He was just as glad that his younger brother found you as everyone else. He really needed you in his life, even if he didn’t want to admit it. So he knew he had to help him figure out how to finally make things ‘official’ with you.

Jihoon thought for a moment. There didn’t seem to be a reason why that couldn’t work. He’d just have to make sure you knew to stay behind which, considering how touchy feely the others were, you’d probably be more than happy with that, “That’s….. actually a good idea.”

“Yeah no shit Sherlock. That’s why he suggested it” sneered Jeonghan. Jihoon sent him a small warning growl before Hannie went and collected the other mates and boys to tell them the new plan for the day.

He couldn’t lie, he was super fucking nervous. Other than that day you found out you two were mates, he hadn’t been left alone with you. At least not completely. There was always someone how because of how many people that lived in the house. He didn’t have much experience with girls. He had more experience than you did, but he was still trying to grasp the whole ‘mating’ thing. He didn’t know where to even start. He couldn’t just go up to you and go “hey I need to mark you or I’m gonna go crazy so we need to fuck like rabbits.” I mean, what kind of loser did that? He had to start thinking of a more subtle approach.

And, as if on cue, in came you and Somi from outside after Jeonghan had called for you both from outside. Your cheeks were a bit flushed from being in the sun and your hair that was once put up in a neat ponytail was now falling out in locks towards the rest of your face. You had grass stains on your knees and you had a bit of dirt on your forehead. You looked like you had gotten into a fight with the ground when in all reality, it was just your first time playing a child’s game.

“So, we’re going somewhere?” Somi ran up and kissed Chan on the cheek before he cuddled her in his arms.

“Yeah. WE are. THEY’RE staying here.” He let a playful grin plaster on his face as he pointed at your and your mate.

You cocked your head to the side in confusion, “We are? Why’s that?”

Chan gulped down his dry throat and shifted his eyes towards Jihoon, who was now staring daggers into him, “Oh… um- well… because…”

“Because we’re gonna be doing coupley shit over at Taeyong’s today and Jihoon said you wouldn’t want to watch us make out.” His sentence was quickly interrupted by the oldest alpha, much to your mate’s relief as his answer seemed to satisfy you.

“Ew yeah no. I’ll stay here that sounds gross,” you shook your head and scrunched up your nose in disgust, “Though I think I’ll take a shower. I feel almost as gross as you all are together.” You chuckled as you mad your way up the stairs and to the bathroom.

-

A little while later after everyone had got themselves together and understood why they suddenly had to leave, they began to head towards the door to depart. You were now upstairs in your bedroom, a towel tightly wrapped around your body and hair as you read a book to work on your Korean. You were pretty good with the actual speaking portion of the language, minus your accent of course, but you were still having a bit of trouble with the spelling and reading. And since it was the native language of most of the people who lived in the house, you figured it was best you study up on it a bit more to become more fluent.

Before you knew it, the others had left. You began focusing on a page of plural ways of speech and were brought out of your gaze by a soft voice near the doorway of your bedroom, “How’s the studying coming along?”

“It’s going about as well as dealing with humans after centuries of avoiding them.” You figured, putting your book down on the bedside table and looking at your mate who was now moving to sit at the end of your bed.

“That bad huh?” He joked while bringing his hand to touch your naked thigh. It brought a light pink blush to your cheeks, but you did your best to avoid it as much as possible and continued the conversation.

You shrugged the heat one your face away, “It comes and goes in Waves. Besides, It could be worse”

“And how’s that?” Jihoon questioned, giving you a tilted head in response.

“I could have had to go watch all the other suck face all day with another pack.” You laughed in amusement at your own joke.

Jihoon hesitated for a moment before he responded, “Well… yeah… about that…” he trailed in an effort to avoid the situation.

“What about it?”

“Wellllll….” He took a deep breath in so he could finish his sentence, “They decided to leave for me- well for us- so we could… have some time alone together…” he brought his newly hot face down to look at his lap so he didn’t have to look you in the eyes as he spoke.

“Alone time?” You bit your lip to hold back a knowing grin. You knew exactly what he was trying to say. But you really wanted to HEAR him say the words. Half to confirm your suspicions, half so that he would squirm a bit.

“Uh yeah. Alone time…” he started to pick at his nails to distract himself. He had never really been this nervous before. Why was he even nervous? You were his mate. It’s not like you’d have an issue with it all… right?

Your pulse was starting to race. The thought of what could happen was heating your body up to the point of concern. You weren’t sure why you were reacting this way, maybe it was because he was your mate, maybe it was because now you could go into heat, you didn’t know. But you did know that if he was going where you thought he was going with his sentence, you’d definitely not be complaining.

You gave him a wondering look, “What do you mean by alone time?” You faked innocence in your question, playing with the edge of the towel wrapped around your body.

He groaned in frustration and threw himself to the bed, landing on his back with a light thud while his hands found their way to his face, “They all left so I could mark you okay?? I knew you wouldn’t want to do anything like that with them here. But I knew I needed to do it soon so that my jealousy wouldn’t get the best of me. So Cheol agreed to have everyone leave for the day so we could just-get it over with” He sighed out, hands still covering his eyes so he could ignore your no doubt astonished face.

But instead, you found yourself straddling him in your easily droppable attire. His hands automatically sent themselves down to hold your hips once his body realized what was happening.

“You know, you could’ve just said that to begin with you know” you seductively let out. His face was absolutely stunned at your sudden behavior change. What actual fucking alien world had he stepped in when he came into your shared room?

(Updated 9/16)

[beanieblanchett]

Tremble and Shake (i)

(not my gif)

Pairing: Lou Miller x female reader

warnings: fluff, slight smut, dominant Lou Miller, submissive reader, stable relationship, sexual frustration/anticipation, bullet vibrator, semi-public sex

Summary: after the heist Lou decided to take her girl to California for an escape and a surprise

(It’s my first time writing anything non-academic in English so be gentle on me. the title comes from Led Zeppelin’s lyric “mountains and canyons start to tremble and shake”in their song going to California)

It was two days ago when your girlfriend finally got back from the heist with a huge success and the announcement that she wanted to go live in California for a while. “It is so god damn cold these days, I would love some sunshine,” she explained to you as she wrapped you in her arms from your back, a smile against your soft neck: “I know you’re used to the weather here in New York but the Aussie part of me really need some legitimate sunlight and spaces once in a while.”

You said yes immediately. You always say yes to Lou for just being with her makes your head spin. And so here you are, on the plane with Lou next to you, napping. Her seat is next the the window and the 5pm fading sunlight kisses her blonde hair beautifully. She looks exotic and divine as always, eyes shut and lips slightly curled up showing how pleasant and peaceful she is right now. You lean yourself against her gently so to not disturb her from her rest, greedily inhaling the smell of her with a somewhat awkward position as the airplane seat’s handle separates you. She smells like a dark mix of smoke, cologne and tears yet also like a warm blanket dried by the affectionate sun.

You can’t help but think about earlier today when she smirked and winked at you and told you that she has prepared a surprised for you. Lou always like to surprise you, sometimes something sweet and heartwarming, other times something sexual and exhilarating——Lou is a passionate and possessive lover so mysterious and freewheeling that you can never predict.

And so on the way to the hotel your mind kept wondering what surprise you are going to get. You couldn’t help but think back to all the surprises you’ve gotten throughout the year: your favorite one being the red collar she gave you as your first anniversary gift. It is a shame that you can’t wear it in public, so you almost always wear a chocker as a placeholder. You love sharing this little secret between you and your criminal girlfriend: the way she looks at you smirking, knowing that you belongs to her.

Lou loves playing games and building anticipations but she also loves building frustrations. She isn’t someone who loves too many rules and regulations but she makes it clear that you should not touch yourself or cum without permission——and you know better than to break the rules, so for the last few days you’ve contained yourself even though every time you hear her voice your heart and body burn uncontrollably.

It’s already late after you checked in. You could hear the ocean wave clashing onto the shore in a steady rhythm and feel your heart pounding with it, wondering if you will finally get your relieve tonight. But when you look at Lou with question she looks back at you lovingly yet innocently, giving you a kiss on the forehead before going to the shower, leaving you high and dry.

You somehow fell asleep and wake up finding yourself in bed with Lou. The room is quite bright by now, filled with sunshine and pleasant singing of birds. You could see how blue the sky is through the white curtains and feel incredibly joyous as you scoot closer to plant kisses on your lover’s cheek and then one on her nose, one on her mouth. Lou opens her eyes lazily and glances at you, her lovely kitten waking her up with wet kisses. She lift her hand and put it behind your head to caress your hair.

“you awake, little one?” She says with a raspy voice, her fingers playing with your hair.

“Yes. I was so tired last night I don’t even know when and how I fell asleep.”

“Well,” her fingers moves to your face, feeling your skin, “you fell asleep right there on the couch with all your clothes on, even that lovely chocker of yours. I had to take them all of and change you into your pajamas.”

Her eyes now shining flirtatiously, and you blush at her words.

“I should go take a shower.” you say as you lift yourself out of bed, cheeks still burning.

“You better do, dirty girl.”

You try very hard not to touch yourself in the shower. It would be against Lou’s will if you do. You love the thought that she has total control over you, even when it is torturous to obey her, the thought of her owning you completely is far more exiting than any orgasms in the world.

You wrap yourself in the towel and start to brush your teeth and suddenly you hear the door open. You turn back to see Lou who’s now fully dressed in a leather jumpsuit that shows off her height and her beautiful body. You gasp at her breathtaking figure, losing the ability to speak. She sees your reaction and chuckles, reaching into her pocket to get out a metallic green bullet vibrator. She hands it to you on her palm and you are still too in shock to react.

Enjoying how overwhelmed and confused you are, her smile widens, “I want you to put it in you before you come out, little one. Can you do that or do you need help?”

“I—I can do that.” You stutter and swallow hardly as you take that vibrator from her palm, looking down to avoid any eye contact.

“Good. Just put it in. You’re not allowed to play with it just yet.” She smirked, “I’ll be out there eating breakfast. Come find me after you’re done.”

Closing the bathroom door, you stand there dizzy with all the thoughts and feelings in the world. You look at the bullet curiously, there is no button on it, so it must be controlled with a remote. You shiver, toss away your towel and open your legs. It is never hard to get you wet, and Lou’s teases certainly helped a ton. You rub your fingers on your pussy lightly and slowly, just enough to get it damp. You juices dance around your fingers as you picture Lou in that stunning jumpsuit. You moan with pleasure: it is the closest you’ve gotten to a relieve in more than a week. But you don’t let yourself to get carried away with it, so you push the bullet in. Your pussy clench to the feeling of fulfillment but also tremble to the cold metallic sensation. It slides in easily as your vagina is now warm and slick with all the juices, swallowing the toy deep inside.

You gasp and sit there with the sensation of having something inside you. The feeling is odd, cold but fulfilling. You put on your white panties, a white tank top and a mini skirt. Then reach to the chocker on the nightstand, wrapping it around your neck carefully. You stand before the mirror for awhile before grabbing a leather jacket to match Lou’s outfit.

When you walk into the hotel restaurant you spot Lou from your first sight. She is so elegant and unique with her light blond hair and fierce eyes. She see you through the tables, smiling, her eyes inviting you as she sips into her coffee and licks her lips suggestively.

As you start walking towards her you feel the bullet buried inside you starts to vibrate and you gasp out of surprise. You sit across her from the table, biting your lips to contain the moans. The vibration was low but the numbing sensation takes over your mind.

“Don’t you look pretty today, little one.” Lou says as her leg touches yours, hers wrapped in leather and yours naked, exposed. She senses your shivering to this contact, but only innocently says,” the French toast here is pretty good.”

Lou watch as you chew on your breakfast. Enjoying the sight of you trying to hide the little pleasant noises into the bread you’re biting on and attempting to act normal when you’re torched inside. You’re on fire under her intense stare and too add to that she turns the vibration up a notch.

You drop your food and whimper in surrender, eyes watering as you look at her, silently begging.

But Lou won’t buy it. She puts a palm on your thigh under the table with a touch light as a feather, teasing you even more. But her face was unaffected.

“If i were you I would eat faster, sweetie. I hope you didn’t forget that I have a surprise for you.”

Read Tremble and Shake (ii) here.

[boop-le-snoot]

masterpost ☀️ main masterlist ☀️ taglist

previously on...

We meet Lucy, we meet Samantha and her twins & Mother Nature gets a little bit mad. But on the upside - she loves Tony :)

Kind reminder that this story will have horror/thriller elements & graphic descriptions of blood, gore and all the nasty stuff associated with superhero battles described in some detail. This chapter contains some of that.

Honestly, this story is getting- uhh- 8-12 notes on Tumblr. It's got a decent following on AO3 which brings me joy because I truly do enjoy the worldbuilding to a, perhaps, guilty amount. So if you like it too - please reblog :)

The fabric of my skirt was suddenly yanked and I jumped, dropping my phone and startling out of my daze. Two big, blue eyes stared up at me, curiousity mixed with impatience in them. I crouched down to pick up my device, coming face to face with a tiny blonde girl about nine or ten years of age.

"Lucy, hi!" I squeezed out a smile at the child. She looked pale, as if she'd never seen the slightest bit of sunlight, chubby cheeks contrasted by an overall spindliness of her body. Her dress was a puffy, long-sleeved, red and white polka dotted monstrosity with at least two petticoats that made her seem bigger than she actually was. "Sorry, didn't see you there. Long day at work," despite there being a worm of anxiety crawling deeply in my chest, I heeded the warnings on the list of rules and swallowed any unease I had.

Which was a hard feat. The stairs had gotten confused and I lost ten minutes of time going back, over and over, after encountering floors "5", "8" and "19" instead of my third floor, in a five story building. The building providing extra floors shouldn't have surprised me that much but the worst was fighting with the desire to explore them, my rational brain unhelpfully supplying that if this building was truly dangerous, nobody would be living in it.

The pull was almost unnatural in its strength yet my protection charms remained unaffected. Too tired from returning to work, I decided to distract myself with my phone - and nearly ran poor little Lucy off her feet.

"You are new," she signed to me slowly, carefully observing my reaction to her using ASL.

I had been truly unsettled by the rule list, perhaps more than I wanted to admit to myself, so I spent a night wide awake brushing up my meager sign language skills. "Yes, my name is Star," I replied, not quite sure if I wanted to shake her hand or simply make myself scarce as soon as possible.

Lucy gave me a closed-lipped grin, swooshing her puffy skirts in what I perceived to be a calculated amount of shyness. "Can I play with you, please?" Her hands moved a little more rapidly as she side-eyed my apartment door.

I briefly ran a mental checklist of the contents of my fridge. "Sure," I figured that two leftover steaks in it would be more than enough for the little girl. I'd splurged and gotten four prime pieces of meat to treat myself after a hectic moving process, cooking only half of them on the first day. "Come on it. You hungry?"

The door swung open as I led Lucy in, her bright dress and pale skin standing out in the twilight of my apartment. She nodded her head seriously, looking at me from head to toe as shivers ran up and down my spine. My bag was unceremoniously dumped on the couch, my socked feet shuffling into the kitchen and beelining for the fridge.

Lucy followed me quietly, taking a seat at the dinner table and folding her thin arms atop it, expectant blue eyes following my every move. As I plated the meat and reached for the roll of paper towels, I felt like I was being examined under a microscope. Somewhere in the distance, a quiet hissing noise was beginning to rise.

Lucy politely declined the fork and knife I attempted to give her so I just set down the plate in front of her, leaving the kitchen to change out of my dusty, sweaty clothes, too tired to really worry about the loud, sloppy and wet chewing noises and low growling coming from the dining area. I decided as long as she wasn't attempting to have me for dinner, I was going to be just fine.

I found Lucy on the carpet of my living room, flipping through a fashion magazine she'd found somewhere after I was done with scavenging some sweatpants from my mostly-unpacked closet. Her blonde curls bounced as she looked up at me with another tight smile, this time looking calmer, friendlier somehow. "I like those dresses," she signed, pointing at a few pictures with models wearing ballroom gowns in all kinds of colours. "And these..." She pointed out a tiara, probably not knowing how to sign the words.

"This is a tiara," I spoke slowly, signing the last word with my hands carefully as she observed. And then a few more times, until she repeated her last sentence perfectly. "Good job, Lucy," I praised her as she beamed at me. The river of quiet, scratchy giggles never stopped as she pointed out various things and I tried to sign them to the best of my ability, Lucy not showing any signs of upset whatsoever if I couldn't get the name for something right.

After some time, it was beginning to get very dark outside and a couple of pointed glances at the clock was all it took for her to stand up and carefully dust off her skirts. "Thank you for playing with me, Star," Lucy signed excitedly. "I like you. Do you want to know a secret?" She leaned in conspirationally, bursting into my space bubble with a lack of care only a child could posess.

I nodded, not trusting my mouth whatsoever. The closer she leaned in, the more overwhelming her smell became. Her pretty dress reeked of mildew and stale water, her breath - of dried blood and something earthen, like moist soil and cold cobblestone.

Lucy's eyes widened dramatically. "If you need answers, go on to the seventh floor. Bring some warm milk and cookies, they won't bother you too much, but be careful and don't stay for too long. You look tasty," I struggled to keep up with her rapid signing, my eyes firmly trained on her. Lucy's hand carefully patted my cheek and in my frozen state, I could only wave back as she skipped to the door and unlocked it, giving me one of her closed-lipped smiles before disappearing behind it without a noise.

The lock slid shut on it's own after the girl's departure. My heart briefly jumped up into my throat, trapping my jerky inhale in-between my throat and my esophagus. Coughing, I went on to double check the door lock before scrambling for the TV remote to add some background noise to the suddenly eerily quiet apartment.

The sit-com that popped up wasn't any of the ones I knew so I sat helplessly watching unfamiliar people get themselves into more and more absurd situations as the grating noise of pre-recorded audience laughter mocked the characters actions. A sudden shriek pierced the late night stillness, followed by a sound of breaking dishes and a woman's voice tiredly chastising the miscreants.

Samantha.

I'd seen her a few times as she smoked her strong cigarettes in front of the entrance, her twins running in circles around the large pothole in the middle of the driveway. She'd been friendly enough, the dark circles under her eyes and the unkempt state of her clothes telling me more than her words, "I love them, I really do. But I just want some sleep," she rasped as she sighed and attempted to gather her two kids.

I didn't examine them too closely but on first moment's notice their eyes and teeth appeared... Wrong. Samantha had taken them inside after that, clutching a coffee thermos of a size truly impressive, and I went on my merry way, trying not to think too much of the poor, single mother and her two mutant kids. I felt a little proud, even, as she didn't just abandon them like many other people did after discovering their children had an active X-gene.

It didn't take me long to cave in and offer my help with watching the twins, Anya and Arman; one noisy weekend bled into the next and I began to genuinely feel bad for the overtired woman. Inviting the two terrors into my apartment was a choice I had made mindfully: having asked Odette about advice on hyperactive children, she had proposed a puzzle or two.

The thrifted, wooden items weren't able to hold the twins' attention for long, and Anya was the first one to begin gnawing at the hard blocks, covering the area around her in splinters. Arman was a quiet boy compared to his sister: he'd stare at the TV or at the walls, avoiding eye contact and conversation at great lengths.

My couch was jumped on, my dishes were taken out and my houseplants rearranged chaotically; it was almost as if they purposefully tried to get a rise out of me without doing any actual damage. I spent the remaining few hours of my Sunday putting things back in their places - all that pent up frustration had done wonders for the state of my apartment; it sparkled, looking cleaner than the day I moved in.

The babysitting became a somewhat regular occurrence, more often than not with me popping in for a couple of hours so Samantha could run some errands and the odd weekend when the twins came over to me so Sam could get some much-needed sleep.

She was a kind, gentle if chronically overworked woman. We clicked pretty quickly over our shared desire for comfortable stability and some fucking peace; neither I nor she had it in sights for the foreseeable future. Sam's reaction to me being a witch was a shrug and a top up to her wine glass as she pointedly looked at her daughter who was busy chewing on a door handle, leaving small, jagged marks all over the dull metal.

I just had gotten sorted with a bunch of complicated orders when the radio interrupted Eric Clapton with an emergency message and instructions to steer clear of the next few blocks over. Something had hit NYC again and Avengers had been called but nobody knew exactly what it was or when it was going to be dealt with.

As soon as I shot a text to Sam, explaining the situation, I immediately retreated to the back rooms, setting up my healing station over the noise of Odette preparing her office for visitors. For some time, I waited with baited breath, jumping at every little noise coming from the outside. The people tickled in slowly, mostly one by one and all were covered in foul-smelling sludge that evaporated with a loud hiss when the concentrated light of the UV lamp in my office touched it.

"Some kind of aliens, I think," a man with a face somewhere between a human and a hedgehog told me, wincing as he retracted his spikes back into his skin. "There's a hole- a portal, right on a crossroads and there's these things coming out. They kinda look like dragons, or flying snakes maybe," the more light breached the surface of his skin, the more relaxed he became. "The Sorcerer and the Witch are trying to close the portal, unsuccessfully might I add, and the muscle is just," he paused, scratching his chin. "Just killin' 'em, I guess."

I nodded enthusiastically, prompting him to continue to rely the state of the affairs as I applied the thick, viscous ointment on a gash on his leg. "It's hammer and Frisbee time," I mumbled to myself sarcastically.

"Yep," the man popped the 'p'. "Most of us are trying to keep the creatures contained to that one block. I saw Iron Man blasting off some of the creatures off of some of my friends," the last sentence contained a great deal of puzzlement. "Though you won't be seeing much of us this time. These things... They're vicious. They've got claws the size of my foot. A lot of us are going to die where they gut us," the sentence was spoken so matter-of-factly, my hands paused on the man's leg, bringing my eyes to his unblinking dots of black.

"What do you mean?" I swallowed in an attempt to chase away the dry, rough feeling in my throat.

"Those beasts... They're smart. One of my friends - she's a... Telepath of sorts... Says they're an intelligent hivemind," the man's broad, warm palm closed over mine. "The beasts leave only the ones that won't get help in time. They can smell death from a mile away. That's how they hunt," his voice was gentle, soothing over the sudden ringing of my ears.

"I..." My mind stuttered, a sticky ball of anxiety, fear and sorrow gathering up in my chest. "I'm so sorry. I..."

"We know what we're doing, out there, we know the risks," his smile was tight and full of grief. "You're doing your part here, makin' sure our babies have parents. We're out there makin' sure our streets are safe. Such is life," the grin acceptance in his pitch-black, small eyes set fire to the tension in my chest.

I exploded, inside out. The sudden burst of decisive, clear-headed energy made the objects around me vibrate, metal resonated my sorrow and my determination, the wood heated up with the force of Mother Nature itself responding to an act of cruelty bestowed upon her creations.

As soon as the man's bandage was finished and he headed out, I grabbed my old, ratty backpack, hastily shoving things into it in a semi-organized fashion. Clean linen strips, bandages, some premade elixirs and draughts, a few jars of salves, carefully tucked in-between the cloth. As I knocked on the door of Odette's office to retrieve the last few items I would need for my reckless journey, the door handle turned on its own, letting me observe her tending a woman who's skin was peeled off most of her back.

"Can't you see I'm..." Odette exclaimed, throwing her free hand towards the door, which did not budge. She turned on her heel, eyes widening when she observed my wide, solid stance in the doorway, lips immediately curling into a small grin. "I understand. Take what you need. It's not wise to resist Her call," the words were spoken carefully, as if not to spook me, before Odette resumed her delicate work of putting the injured woman back together.

Without a word, I finished packing and left through the front door, not needing more than my scarf and my light sweater to keep me from the freezing gusts of wind. My very core was the centrefold of an active volcano, bursting with white-hot bursts of energy as I approached the injured people on my way towards the terrible screeching noise.

This far out, most of the injured were able to make it to Odette's or to the other healer, who's name I had found out only then, but they were thankful for the water I offered them. Not once did they question me: my star-patterned scarf, out of all things, had become somewhat of a symbol for me among the different folk. Mutants approached me fearlessly, giving generous updates on the direction of the battle and the hotspots I probably should have avoided.

The louder the screeching noises grew, the more people needed my help. The stops took longer, my painkillers were becoming a short supply, the main relief provided by a couple of mid-range, mid-strength energy manipulating mutants that began to tail me after I offered to patch them up in exchange for help with the injured.

It was as if I instinctually knew where I was most needed, my decisions were seldom my own. Me and the two mutants bid a haste goodbye after loading up their truck with the injured, although deep inside, I knew that the amount of corpses, bloody and messy, littering the streets had begun to get to them. In a normal state of mind, I would not have been able to look at them either: then, each mangled, broken body only added fuel to the fire within me.

As I stepped foot in an intersection where someone had piled up bent and broken cars, the shadow flying over my head shrieked, taking a fluid nose dive towards another, smaller flying figure. I dropped flat on the ground, the contents of my backpack clattering, watching the small figure in the sky blast the beast with an off-blue ray of concentrated energy. As soon as the creature began it's graceless drop, Tony turned around and flew off, looking none worse for wear.

At the very centre of my chest, a faint feeling of fondness and hope blossomed into tiny little flowers that soothed the aching sorrow for the dead. Each warcry of the beasts from another world fed the anger, the anguish Gaia seemed to exhibit at their intrusion; the revolt I felt upon laying my eyes on one of them made me sweat, hands clenching into fists until my skin crawled under my nails.

The last part of me that wanted to pretend I was in control was gone; my soft, untrained body a mere vessel for a force stronger than me, stronger than anything. Noise around me grew in pitch, some of the creatures circling around my hiding spot cluelessly, aimlessly, as if they could not find what they were looking for.

I moved spots in a daring series of runs, bringing me almost to the portal itself, and the hellish lizards dived into my previous sanctuary, shattering the concrete and the wood of the house under the amused black stares of glassless windows.

The realization set it - they could not see me. Or perceive me properly, I deduced, inspecting the creatures for any sort of orifice except for their mouths and finding them to lack eyes and ears.

My own stare fell onto Sorcerer Supreme, floating amongst a variety of moving golden circles; I was close enough to hear him talking in a language I did not know. Wanda was hovering nearby, holding up a wall of red energy, protecting the chanting sorcerer.

A united screech invoked a shiver from every living being within it's reach, the creatures circling the portal for the last time before flying off in haphazard directions as the portal slowly began to close. I was prepared to cheer, yet, something stopped me; not a second later, the circles surrounding Stephen dimmed as the man himself jumped up onto his feet in alarm, screaming something unintelligible at the Scarlet Witch.

The overturned food cart I was hiding behind slowly began to creep towards the portal. A couple of rats, a pigeon - the animals flew in front of my eyes, rapidly, as they struggled against the unseen force. My hands grasped the handlebars of the cart in vain, I struggled against the force, seeing a moment of confusion on Wanda's face as I floated- no, rocketed past her as Stephen's golden magic forcefully pushed her out of the portal's reach.

It's size no bigger than a doorway, the vile thing blew cold, dry air under my sweater, muffling Stephen's cursing as we briefly collided during our violent expulsion into another world.

And then, there was darkness.

Taglist! @couldntbedamned @mikariell95 @letsby @sleep-i-ness @toomanyrobins2 @mostly-marvel-musings @persephonehemingway @schemefrenzy @lillsxd @bluecrazedandbeautiful @slothspaghettiwrites @xoxabs88xox

[moonbeambucky]

Hey Neighbor (Part 4)

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader Word Count: 2652 Warnings: none

Summary: You had a plan and then life came along with one of its own. With your future almost derailed you worked hard to get yourself back on track and finally everything seemed to be going right… that is, until your new neighbor moved in.

A/N: A huge thank you to my wonderful beta Sam @buckyofthemyscira​ Feedback is always appreciated!

PART 3 | HEY NEIGHBOR MASTERLIST

The past few days have been exactly what you wanted a month ago, peacefully silent, yet somehow it doesn’t feel right. You were able to finish your paper in record time, fully concentrating on your work but part of you missed the incessant music from next door.

There was an odd comfort knowing Bucky was home playing, and with the knowledge of his musical talent you now wanted to hear what he would come up with. Getting to know him briefly was… well, it was something. It could have gone a lot better if you didn’t stick your foot in your mouth.

Bringing up the music related noise was one thing but how you ever managed to bring up the noise of his “nighttime activities” made you wish you could have vanished into thin air, never to be seen again. You had done your best to avoid Bucky ever since, rushing out of or into your apartment as quickly as possible. You weren’t sure how you could ever face him again but you couldn’t deny that a small part wanted to.

Facing your shared wall you imagined where Bucky might be, picturing him on his couch, lounging across the cushions of the soft leather as he leisurely plucks away at the guitar strings, sounding out a melody. Or was he more focused, sitting upright and gliding his dexterous fingers across his keyboard? Was he at his computer editing his melodies? Was he thinking of you?

The silence was deafening. With your palm pressed against the wall you began to lean in with your ear, hoping you could hear anything. With a slight gasp you jumped back, there was noise but not any coming from next door. Your phone buzzed against the coffee table, with Steve’s face illuminating the screen.

“Hey Steve!”

“Guess who I saw going into Sweetgreen?” The strain in his voice clued you in to the right guess, Lillian. “Yup, and she wasn’t alone … yeah she’s still with Jason, for now,” he muttered under his breath, expecting her to cheat again.

“I’m sorry Steve. You know you deserve better than her, right? I know you know this.”

Steve sighed heavily. Even though he knew what you were saying was right, seeing his ex still hurt a lot.

“Thanks Y/N, I do know that, doesn’t mean I’m going to torture myself though and go in there so is it cool if I pick us up something else? I’m in the mood for carbs.”

Chuckling at Steve’s admission you couldn’t help but agree, salads were great and all but all this Bucky stress you’ve put on yourself definitely makes you crave heavier foods.

“Tacos?”

“Mmmm, yes tacos! Extra guac please Rogers!”

You set your table in preparation for Steve to come over with food, remembering to throw your wallet on the table to give him money. The last time he came over you had forgotten, being so caught up in reliving the terrible memory of your interaction with Bucky. Steve might have been right, if he handled talking to Bucky maybe you wouldn’t be so worried about running into him.

“Sam tells me you guys spoke,” Steve said, digging a tortilla chip into the container of guacamole.

You chewed quickly to swallow the bite you had taken. “Why do you always ask me a question mid-chew?” you joked. “But yes, we did speak and…” your voice lifted with anticipation as Steve’s eyes widened, waiting for you to continue. “He gave me the number for Elena Rodriguez. She’s head of the social work department and…”

“Oh my god Y/N please just tell me!” Steve begged.

“I set up an interview with her next week!”

Steve’s eyes crinkled with his excited smile though it faded shortly after as you nervously mused about fitting the internship into your schedule.

“One step at a time,” Steve offered with a small laugh.

He’s right. One step at a time. You didn’t even go on the interview yet, you might not even be hired for it; the thought of which worries you even more, but you remind yourself to breathe and take things as they come.

The elevator ascends slowly, filled with your eager coworkers looking to join the rush home. As it lets off on the ground floor, everyone dashes to the heavy glass doors as you leisurely stroll to the security desk.

Mr. Lee had a big smile on his face as he seemed to be in the middle of telling Steve a story. Slowly you approached the desk, seeing Steve smiling down at something in his hands.

“That’s what I said but Howard was ahead of his time. A comic book movie…” Mr. Lee chuckled. “It didn’t work in ’47 but it sure would be a hit now.”

“Oh, what’s this?” you asked.

Steve held up a sealed copy of a comic book, Kid Colt, which you were unfamiliar with.

Leaning over the desk towards you Mr. Lee spoke, “Tony found that for me in his father’s things. That’s how Howard and I met. He wanted to make a movie outta this. Stark Pictures. He never did though, the whole thing became a big tax write off.”

“I didn’t know you knew Howard Stark.”

“Oh yeah,” Mr. Lee boasted humbly, “Since I was seventeen. He was a good man. You know he was so proud to finally be a father. He worked a lot, probably more than he should have but he had Maria and the nannies bring little Tony over to the office. Tony Stank I’d call him. Oh boy, you could smell those diapers from a mile away it was so bad.”

Hearing Mr. Lee talk about the head of your company so freely like this made you laugh. It also made Tony Stark seem a bit more human. As far as you knew he was a workaholic who may or may not be seeing Pepper Potts. You’ve caught the way she looks at him though, with an extra twinkle in her eye or how she hesitates for the smallest moment to gather herself before going into his office.

“Tony Stank, that’s amazing,” you laughed, wondering if Pepper has ever heard this story before. “Well, have a good night Mr. Lee!”

Steve came around to the front of the desk standing tall, filling out his blue uniform with his broad stature. It was unfair how he could pig out on food with you and not show any sign of it. Meanwhile, your stomach has been rumbling all day from last night’s dinner.

“I’m on the late shift today,” he frowned.

“Poor Stevie,” you joked, wiping an imaginary tear from your eye. “Not that my night will be any better, I’ve got a shit ton of laundry to do.”

“Enjoy the sweaty laundromat then.”

“Oh I will,” you said sarcastically.

The steady hum of the running washing machines drowned out the sound of the newscast coming from a small TV mounted on the wall. It’s muggier inside than out, and even with the door open you can’t escape the permeating smell of cheap soap and mildew.

The wash cycle is nearly over so you move from the metal chair you had been uncomfortably sitting on, listening to music to pass the time, and lazily stroll over to the machine that is spinning your clothes. Quarters jingle in your pocket as you walk, ready to be placed in the dryer as you wait some more. You hate laundry day.

It’s crowded too, with all the chairs taken and other people leaning against the wall. A few kids were running around screaming, not helping their tired mother who looked too exhausted to even reprimand them as she folded all their clothes.

No one looked happy to be there, not even the attendants who had to apologize to the screaming man who didn’t understand why he couldn’t use one of their reserved machines. It was a cut throat world on laundry night, with other patrons fighting to stake claim for the next free machine.

A loud buzz lets you know your clothes are done, you wheel a basket over and open the door. The shadow of the clearly impatient person waiting for your machine blocks the dull light from the fluorescents above so you hope to grab everything quickly without dropping anything on the dirty linoleum floor.

“It’s all yours– oh.” Your mouth hung open, not expecting to see Bucky standing beside you. “H-hey.”

“Hey Y/N. Didn’t want to startle you,” he sheepishly said. “Uhmmm, is this free?” Bucky gestured to the obviously open machine.

You nodded quickly. Not knowing what else to say you stared awkwardly at the basket of damp clothes and said, “I’m gonna dry these.” Smooth.

Turning around you let out a deep breath and worried over what would happen next. It would be extremely rude to ignore Bucky and continue to listen to music. He hasn’t done anything wrong to you, not this week at least, but you were too scared to risk saying something stupid, again.

It would take at least a half hour for your clothes to dry so you put on a brave face and decided to walk back towards Bucky. Dressed in casual black shorts and a white t-shirt, his smooth, toned arms were crossed over his chest as he leaned against a support column, squinting to read the poorly transcribed closed captioning on the TV.

“Hey neighbor,” you said, offering a small friendly wave as he turned his head.

Bucky smiled, standing upright as he turned to face you completely to greet you back. He looked genuinely happy to see you, which made you feel even worse for how you left things.

“I’m sorry if I made things weird the other day. I didn’t mean to,” you blurted out before your brain gave any thought to see if this was a good idea.

Bucky chewed on his bottom lip, the gaze of his ocean blue eyes staring right through you. “Don’t worry about it,” he said with a cavalier air.

“So how’s the music coming along?” You were truly curious, having not heard any sound.

“It’s not bothering you, right?” Bucky winked.

“No, not at all,” you smiled softly. “Are you still working on that one piece?”

Bucky asked which one and you hummed the tune. Closing your eyes you missed the way his own lit up in delight hearing you repeat his melody.

“I know I complained about the noise but honestly it was so beautiful,” your voice lightened and he felt the weight of emotion even through the simple way you described it. “Maybe that’s why I couldn’t focus.”

Bucky adjusted his weight, needing to ground himself after your words made him feel as light as air. His music meant so much to him, working tirelessly to bring to life the sound he envisioned in his mind, to know that the unfinished piece had such an effect already made his heart swell with pride.

He developed his music like a chef crafting a recipe. Each instrument was a different ingredient, carefully selected notes were gathered on the counter, waiting to come together in a symphonic skillet. The flavors of music combine, heating up together the piano is covered in the spice of an electric guitar, with the drumming rhythm simmering beneath the surface as the sound of strings are poured generously over the top.

In the end the dish is a delicious feast for the ears but here you were, happily devouring the unfinished ingredient in its raw form.

“Yeah…” his voice came out breathless. Catching himself Bucky cleared his throat. “It’s actually for an upcoming video game. I can’t say which, but it’s part of an emotional scene when the main character finds his family is gone.”

“I can sense the depth of it.”

“That’s not even the best part,” he explained as his face grew with a wide smile. Bucky became lost in describing the emotion of the violins that would come in. “They’re the voice of the character and when he’s lost everything I have them coming in, crying out in pain. It’s sharp and strong, and beautifully tragic.”

Listening to Bucky describe his music resonated in your soul. You saw the complete love and passion he had for it and once again you felt terrible about asking him to stop.

“I’d love to hear it, if that’s okay.”

You looked at him with hopeful eyes, and Bucky smiled, nodding before he spoke his answer. He couldn’t wait for you to hear everything together.

You passed the time by getting to know each other a little more. Bucky has a younger sibling named Rebecca who moved west to work as an avian veterinarian in a bird sanctuary.

“My parents are lost without them around,” Bucky joked. “Do you know how hard it is to try to explain how to use Skype to them over the phone?”

“Oh believe me, I know. Somehow my mom always calls at the worst time to have me explain the most basic function on her phone that she already knows because we’ve gone over it a million times but…” You threw your hands up as Bucky joined in with your laughter.

When your clothes were dry Bucky gave you some space to fold them alone which you appreciated, not wanting to showcase your intimate items in front of him. He was still a stranger, sort of, but you were glad you were getting to know him.

Checking the time you realized it was on the late side and you still needed to shower before bed. Your clothes were packed neatly into a laundry bag, well most of them were at least. One sock managed to get eaten by the dryer to your dismay, and you hoped its pair was somewhere on your floor having fallen out as you prepped the laundry.

Slinging the bag over your shoulder, you gripped the bottle of detergent with your other hand and walked towards Bucky.

“Hey,” you called out to Bucky who lifted his head from his phone. “I’ve got a few things to do tonight still so can I take a rain check on hearing your music?”

“Yeah, of course.” Bucky did his best to mask his disappointment but he understood. He noticed the slump of your shoulders, balancing the laundry bag high on one side and letting your other limb hang low with the weight of the heavy bottle.

“Do you want me to carry that back?” he asked.

“Oh, no it’s okay, I can manage.”

The apartment was only two blocks away, two long blocks but still, you didn’t want to inconvenience Bucky even though judging by the curve of his biceps it wouldn’t be a problem.

Bucky walked with you to the front of the laundromat as you smiled and said goodnight.

“Goodnight Y/N,” he whispered, watching as you walked down the sidewalk until he could no longer see you in the crowd.

The words stayed on his lips like they were always meant to be there and Bucky has a brief flash of a life he’s never thought about.

A warm bed, made even warmer by the figure curled against him. His breath syncs with theirs and he’s at peace. His heart beats to the rhythm of love and his lips purse together to plant a soft lingering kiss on their forehead. A smile secures itself on his face because he’s truly happy; surrounded by the comforting feeling knowing that when he wakes up that person, his love, will be by his side.

The machine buzzes at the end of its cycle dragging Bucky back to a reality that has him gasping for breath. He steps outside for a minute for air, needing to clear his mind of the vision that seemed so real it scared him; for better or worse he can’t quite say.

PART 5

[catharrington]

Strawberry Seeds and Love Potions. (T, 2.4K words)

@harringroveweekoflove day 2: LOVE POTION && MYTHOLOGICAL CREATURES. Also including: witch Robin, post season 3 recovering Billy, flustered but giving it his best Steve, and cat boys. Or cat men? No, cat boys.

***

The coffee mug clicked onto the table with an otherworldly menace. Steve’s brown eyes darted to it, then back up to Robin. He furrowed his brows in a question. But before he could open his mouth, she held up her hand.

“It’s not poison,” she explained.

“Could have fooled me, Robs,” Steve hissed.

“It’s called a potion, dingus. It’s going to help!” She pushed the cup farther down the bar. The diner around them was mostly closed, and Robin was the only waitress in the place. Her peach colored apron brought out the green of her wide, devious eyes.

“Potion... poison... that’s like one letter different,” Steve leaned back in his stool away from the mug.

“Wow, so you know how to spell. What other skills will you showcase, The Amazing Harrington?” Robin’s lips curled up in an evil grin, leaning her body over the bar to dig the insult farther.

Steve just scoffed. Putting his elbow up on the bar and shielding himself as he tried to get back to the open College text book he was supposed to be reading. All the words were rushing together in swirls of black and white. He pushed his thumb into his curved bottom lip to try and force himself to focus, chewed on the pad of it, but he could swear the mug was mocking him.

Could swear he could smell that strawberry pink liquid Robin had poured for him when he ordered a simple black coffee.

“Drink it,” Robin snapped.

“No,” Steve growled.

“Are you going to grow a backbone and actually confess then?” She quirked one brow up.

Her face was so condescending. So smug. Steve hated how much he knew that look, how it made him sort of fond for her.

“I mean,” he sighed. His walls crumbling in defeat. His fingers coming up to join in worrying his bottom lip. “I mean I might?”

“It’s been a year Steve. A year of following him around like a little stray kitten! A year of ‘Oh Billy, I’ll give you a ride!’ ‘Oh Billy, how was physical therapy?’ ‘Oh Billy, pay attention to me!’—“

“I get it, I get it!” Steve turned towards her again to motion with his hand to keep it down. Waving his wide palm around until Robin’s pursed face cracked into a giggle. “Just keep it down, would you?”

And he turns over his shoulder to survey the empty diner before he’s got enough courage to look at her again.

“Yeah, okay. I’ve got a fat, stupid crush on Billy. And I know that I’m the most embarrassing and dumb guy you know. But...,” he trails off. Eyes wandering back down to the coffee cup. “It’s not the same as Nancy Wheeler or even Tammy Thompson. So much can— no, so much has gone wrong. If I... confessed right now, It would just make everything too much for him.”

His fingers nervously tick across the mint green bar. Wishing like hell he could cross them in front of his chest and make a barrier.

Robin takes a step forward. Her own fingers an inch away from his. She twitches like she can’t make up her mind if she wants to grab them. Like someone worrying their bottom lip if they are going to pick the last slice of pie in the diner’s glass container. But she does, reaching out to lay her skinny fingers and their chipping black nail polish over his own.

“Dingus,” she starts lovingly, “you don’t know any of that.”

Steve scoffs, rolls his eyes like he’s going to turn away, but Robin holds his hand tightly.

“You don’t know if it’s too much for him, or what he wants. And you don’t,” Robin took a second before continuing, her breath hitching, “you don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow.”

Hawkins, Indiana is the poster town for unknown tomorrow’s. Steve knows way too well about that. The tunnels crawling with slime and vines that play host to the monsters of the world.

But Billy, he surely knows better than anyone. It’s been a whole year but noone’s going to ever forget what he did. What happened to him under the control of a creature called The Mind Flayer. How Billy used himself like a human shield and died to try to make up for it. Just to come back with an electric jolt to his tattered heart.

They had to stitch new lungs inside his chest. He called himself Zombie Boy now. Called the patchwork scars heavy metal.

Steve just smiled. Nodded his head as he watched Billy climb out the crumbled wreckage of his shell. Climb out a new man, a man Steve caught himself falling head over heels for.

“You’re right, Robs,” Steve exhales.

“Oh, what was that?” Robin giggled, leaning in to hear better.

Steve pushed her away by their joint hands. Wiggling his fingers afterwards as if cursed.

His breath quipped and held tight in his chest as he turned back to the coffee mug. It sat waiting for him. The light red liquid swimming with foam and black seeds at the top. As if no matter how long it sat, it was always freshly prepared.

Steve gripped the handle of the white mug hard. Thought about how quick Billy’s body hit the ground when he died. How quick it all felt to Steve who had to helplessly stand back and watch it all.

He lifted the mug to his lips and drank in desperate, greedy gulps.

And as he finished it and slammed the ceramic back down on the bar, he didn’t immediately feel different. His mouth felt strange, the red juice had a powdery after-taste and much more seeds than his gag reflex was expecting. But as he screwed up his face from the flavor, he didn’t feel changed. Or empowered. Or whatever Robin was trying out with this magic spell.

“I don’t—,” Steve started, but his voice stopped just as it started. His head pounded like a drum was beating right next to his ears.

Doubling over in his stool, he gripped at the sides of his head in a panic. His whole skull felt like it was vibrating. Shifting around even, his scalp moving at the top of his head as if something were to burst out.

Steve grabbed two fist fulls of his hair and groaned through the wave of pain. Burying his chin in his chest to try and stop the noises before they came. It was so painful, but somehow only lasted a second.

As sudden as it came, he felt fine again.

Steve jerked his head up to scream at Robin , when he noticed her eyes wandering to the top of his head.

He followed them with hesitant fingers, slowly running up his now messy head of quaffed brown locks under his fingertips brushed something new.

Giving an undignified yelp, he drew his hand backwards as if burnt. His eyes were wide and pleading with Robin. But she watched him right back with the same face. As if she didn’t make this, as if it wasn’t her poison potion that created this.

Steve timidly touched the new addition to his head again. This time he didn’t finch as his fingertips sank into hair that felt soft as fur. Following it up to a point, and then feeling as it curved inwards to softer peach fuzz.

He could feel something, as his fingers moved, he could feel them as easily as if he were touching the lobes of his ears.

Because he was touching his ears.

A quick glance to a dingy mirror hanging at the back of the bar confirmed it for him. There was a pretty pair of brown cat ears sprung from the top of his head.

“Robin,” he breathed. Unable to fully grasp how he felt. “What was that drink exactly?”

She blinked at him, gathering her thoughts before she cleared her throat. “It’s um, it’s supposed to be a charm. An aid, like-like an enhancer. It said it would bring out the traits that the person you craft the potion for desires the most.”

Then she stopped to laugh, her red lips caught between gaping open or turning up on the corners in a mocking laugh. “I didn’t— wow! I thought worst case scenario would be you’ll turn into an asshole like you were in high school. B-But this?”

Steve looked from her back to the mirror. Wrapping one hand around the pointed triangle of his ear. Pushing it down just to watch it perk back up again.

“I’m... I’m a cat boy?” Steve stutters out a gasping breath.

“Well, more like a cat man, really,” Robin tries to help. “Come on, you’re almost old enough to buy beer.”

“Really helpful, Robs, thanks so much for the curse and now the insults!” He shouts.

Holding up her hands in defense, her smile doesn’t drop. Even in her shoulders Steve can see she’s quivering with laugher.

He feels along the base of his new ears. How the fur is the same color and melts almost perfectly into his own silky hair. How it feels good, actually, to scratch his blunt nails there just like how a house cat would enjoy it.

“This isn’t some trait. Or some, something that Billy would find attractive in me.” Steve groans. “This is some freaky kink!”

Robin finally clasps her hand over her mouth to dam up the waterfall of laugher. It hits against her palm in a muffled, annoying, cruel noise. She shakes her head as if she wanted to argue but couldn’t get past how funny she found it.

“You must have mixed up the wrong stuff, Robin! Put the wrong magical thing in the mixture!” Steve tried to shake his head out to unstick his thoughts.

He runs his hands through his hair as he does when he gets flustered, and now his cat ears bend with the motion so they don’t get tugged on. Folding neatly onto his head before bouncing back up to attention.

It felt so weird, but somehow it didn’t feel very different at all. They acted as if they’ve always been there.

“Yeah, okay, that’s it,” Steve nodded to himself. “You gave me the wrong potion. It’s okay, it happens! Just whip up a new one that’s for reversing cat ears. That’s in your witch book right?”

Robin kept her hand over her mouth and kept shaking her head. She wasn’t replying to anything Steve said. And it was honestly making him more mad than the new ears on top of his head.

“Hey, is it really funny enough for all that?” he mused.

Then Steve looked back up at the mirror. He turned his head side to side to admire the way his ears moved with him. How they were his hair color on the outside then a flushed pink in the very middle. How there were strands of lighter brown between that and those reminded him of how highlighted his hair gets in the summer sun.

“I don’t know. I think they... I think they sort of suit me?” He shrugged.

Robin dropped her hands and her laugher was louder without it, but she managed to catch her breath to finally reply. “Oh, they suit you alright. You’re a natural at this stuff, Garfield.”

Steve furrowed his eye brows. Cat ears folding down on his head in defense. “I’m not orange,” he hissed back.

Robin opened her mouth with likely more insults and no actual help from the aspiring witch who caused all this mess, when she was interrupted. The bell above the entrance letting out a loud ding.

The front door, painted in matching mint green like the bar, swung open. And like he was summoned, like his ears were simply ringing so much from being talked about he hunted down the source, in walked Billy.

He was wearing a grey hoodie. One of many that he collected once he got discharged out of his hospital. This one Steve was familiar with, because it was his. Handed down with a coat and a couple other winter items as Steve feigned indifference over concern about Billy’s California blood staying warm. An old Hawkins High baseball league logo sitting right in the middle. It’s fading green and orange design still bright enough to make Steve’s breath catch in his throat.

“Hey, Harrington,” Billy greeted. He lifted his big, scarred hand to wipe the hood down from his head. Letting loose the wild mess of short curls that are regrowing on his head.

“Hey, Billy,” Steve croaked out. His voice was awkward. His face, he knew, must be blushing bright red.

He turned to seek help from Robin, but the swinging door that lead into the kitchen was rocking back and forth on its hinges. She must have run away as soon as Billy came in. And Steve was too busy watching his entrance to even notice.

Cursing under his breath, Steve racked his brain with an excuse. Some logical way to explain why he had sprouted two new fluffy ears off his head.

He felt like he was playing a pinball machine in his head. Flashing lights and jingling noises were going off. But nothing was coming to him. He couldn’t find any words to offer at all to Billy.

So he whipped his head to the side, watched as Billy stopped glancing around the empty diner to finally settle on Steve.

And he watches as Billy’s gorgeous, totally unfair pretty blue eyes lift to see the cat ears on his head.

“Woah, Harrington,” Billy exhales like he’s blowing a mouth full of cigarette smoke. “That’s really—,”

“I know, Billy, okay! It’s um, um?” Steve waves his hands around as if that can turn the wheels of his thinking some more. But he can’t think. Not well anyway, when Billy’s standing here looking so handsome, so warm, and so alive right in front of him.

“Yeah, okay, I can totally explain this—,”

Billy cuts him off with a soft chuckle. Just under his breath. Steve closes his mouth quick enough to make his teeth click.

“I don’t know, Steve. Ya don’t have to explain it. It’s kinda cute, actually,” Billy drawls out his words low and soft. And then smiles at him.

A second ticks by. Billy’s boots skid on the tile as he steps even closer. All the way until he’s right next to Steve. Grabbing the back of a stool right next to him.

And Billy hasn’t taken his eyes off Steve’s ears once. And he’s got a little sparkle in them like the first time Billy got a point over him during basket ball practice back in high school. And oh, oh.

“Cute?” Steve parrots back.

“Yeah, super cute,” Billy confesses.

[makbarnes]

A/B/O Bucky

“All I am asking is for you to stay with me in the lab today little sister, Don’t you remember the great times we used to have down in my lab at all hours of the night. You always eating cookie dough by the tub.” Tony pulled out a big spoon with a tub of chocolate chip cookie dough and you chewed her lip in excitement. Tony for some reason wanted to keep you in his sight at all times today. You brushed it off as you ripped the lid off of the container and watched Tony work. Omega Siblings were rare but not unheard of. In fact some people would consider it to be a miracle that Stark had two Omegas with super human smarts then two Alphas with a taste for blood. Tony always protected you and since he had joined the Avengers, you had earned a strong Alpha brother in law, new friends and the safest place in the world to live. It helped that you got to save the world. Tony had come up with the Iron Man suit to secure his spot on the Avengers. You always saw him working on new equations with Banner or going off to Steve about how his experiment went wrong. You remembered the night Tony found out about your abilities. They became apparent when your first heat came on. Things flew all around your room and burst through the walls. Your life changed that night and from then on you was an Avenger. Tony and Steve helped train you and Natasha helped focus and not let an Alpha enemy take advantage of her in the field. You smiled reminiscing over memories of you and Tony side by side in the field.Taking down enemies and guarding each others back.

“{Y/N}?! Hello!?” Shaking your head you knocked herself out of the memories you saw  Tony holding his hands under her mother’s picture. “Reminsining again?” You shook your head in response and took another spoonful of dough into your mouth. Purring happily on top of Tony’s desk you watched him intently as he typed a new code into a screen and went over to run a simulation. As you adjusted your oversized tee around your neck and dug deep into the container for a chocolate vein that ran down into the middle. 

“I’m gonna go grab a soda.” Tony rushed over to the door and stood in front of you. 

“Why don’t I ask...uhm...Adam to get us some hmm?” Tony tapped the glass and you saw a scrawny suited agent go up the stairs. Huffing softly towards him you went back to the dough for another spoonful. 

“Tony?” You stabbed the spoon into the dough and walked over to his table. Tony’s eyes darted back and forth and you took in a deep sigh. “I need to know why you are keeping me down here.” Tony blew air past his lips and asked you to hand him a wrench. “Do not change the subject. You are usually all over Steve at this time, I can’t even leave the room? And when have you ever willingly given me a sugar rush?” Tony ran his fingers through his hair and leaned against his desk. “Fine. But you are staying away from him. Steve’s old friend Barnes is moving in tonight and I don’t want you near him. He killed our parents.” You rolled her eyes and threw up your hands.

“Ever wonder why I don’t have a mate?!” Tony shrugged his shoulder in reply as you growled loudly next to him. “You never let me. If I want to get knotted I'm damn well going to. This isn’t about who it is, its about me being an Omega and him being an Alpha. Mom was the same way, you got to go out with guys but no your sister has to stay home and learn how to do things around the house for her Alpha. Tony can go spend the night, Tony can go to the mall, Tony can do this. Even when I did get to do things, its Tony watch your sister, Tony keep her safe. Even now on missions, I’ve noticed it.I was very reluctant to move into this place. You let me have freedom and I didn’t think this was still an issue. I thought you saw me for the grown Omega I really am. Excuse me!” You rushed out of the room and up the stairs to your private room. Hearing Steve coming around the corner you quickly moved into a dark corner and waited, Ready to give Tony’s Alpha a piece of your mind. Seeing his shadow come across the floor you got into an attack position. Holding your breath you saw his broad shoulder come over the edge of the wall and threw your hand out to catch his shoulder but your throat was met with a metal hand clenched around it and your head made a dent in the concrete wall. Hearing a low dominant growl in your ear you felt a shiver go down your spine and felt your instinct take over. The smell of Peppermint, Cinnamon, Rose clouded your mind and you purred instinctively.  

“Buck! Put her down! That’s {Y/N}. She’s Tony’s sister and isn’t supposed to be here.” Steve shook Bucky’s shoulder but his eyes were connected to your own and you felt as if you were flying. Feeling your feet fill with pressure, You caught the wall and shyly smiled. You could feel Bucky’s stare as you froze in place. Peering your eyes up, you chewed her lip at the controlling look in his eyes. You felt Steve pick her up from the floor and you could soon feel Bucky’s hot breath on your face. 

“Omega.” His deep voice sent a heat between your legs and you pulled them together. 

“Alpha.” You flirted back while inhaling deeply and felt yourself melting at his scent.Your  knees felt weak and you could feel your breath getting caught in your throat. You felt the world stop and it was just you and Bucky. His crystal like eyes bore into your own and everything slowed. 

“Steve! I said keep him away!” Steve gripped Bucky’s arm and dragged Bucky away from your sight. You cleared your throat as Tony moved you towards your  room.. Feeling the rest of the world come back into view you could hear Tony’s complaining. 

“You stay here. I yelled at Steve to protect you and if he asks I’m blaming you!” Tony slammed your door and heard him punch in a keycode in locking the door from anyone but him. 

“You can’t keep me locked away like some princess who needs rescuing!” You sighed as you flopped back onto the bed and thought about Bucky’s scent that was stuck in your nose.Keeping yourself busy Your mind kept thinking about how ripped Bucky was under the black tank top he had stretched over his muscles. You felt his scent leaving your memory and quickly hit out a little hole you had in the wall behind your headboard. Taking out a small welding pen you sawed through the bolt that was holding the door to the wall and quietly caught it. Looking closely at the doorway you  noticed two similar dots and snickered under your breath. Tony was always so predictable. You hopped over the threshold and followed the way you remembered Steve pulling Bucky in. Tapping your watch you checked the main areas with F.R.I.D.A.Y.S cameras and smiled as you found Bucky curled over a pillow rocking back and forth next to Steve. You quickly checked your surroundings and made your way to the bottom floor lobby. You could smell Bucky’s scent from the end of the hallway and felt your eyes dilate as if it was instinct. You controlled a little metal decor square off of a back table and threw it down the hall for Steve to leave the room. As he heard the thump he motioned something to Bucky and left down the hall. You took your chance and quickly moved into the room and jumped over the back of the couch to sit next to Bucky. Sniffing near him your felt your eyes roll into your head and bit your lip hard. Bucky didn’t move but you could tell he was holding himself back. 

“Hi.” You cleared your throat and watched his muscles relax a bit.

“Steve said you were Stark’s sister?” Bucky’s voice was breaking from how hard he was holding back his instinct. Your scent of Honey, Rose and Lemon clouded Bucky’s senses and he couldn’t help but growl softly towards you. 

“Does that matter?” You adjusted yourself closer to his neck and held your breath while your dark hair flowed over his shoulders. Bucky’s metal arm reverberated as he clutched the pillow. 

“I killed your parents. Tony would kill me. I can’t!”

“Yes you can.” You moved closer to Bucky and saw his jaw clench. 

“I don’t want to hurt you.” 

“You won’t…I promise.” You pulled his face to look at you. Moving his hair out of his face you smiled brightly and slowly moved the pillow away from his arms. 

“We share a scent…” Bucky pulled you closer to him as his eyes flicked to black. You moved until your lips were just inches apart. Watching his sight flick between your lips and eyes you sucked in your bottom lip and grinned. 

“Do you want to kiss me, Bucky?” You held his shoulders with your hands and felt his arms come around your hips. His flesh hand came up to cup your face and you leaned into his palm. He pulled your lips against his own and it felt like a fire had been lit in your soul. An immediate feeling of comfort and destiny filled you internally. You twisted your lips to catch a breath before returning. Adjusting your hips to rest on his lap 

“{Y/N}? Get out of here!” You gasped as Steve stood near you with crossed arms and rolled your eyes.  

“To the lab!” Tony clicked a button and the window closed on her wall. She changed her clothes quickly to get rid of any of Bucky’s scent on her and hurried down to the lab. Rubbing her eyes to make them look irritated and tired as if she had just woken up. Throwing her long hair in a bun she messed it up a bit as the door opened and she cleared her throat. 

Yawning as she entered the lab she stretched through the doorway to an obviously up-duped Tony. Steve adjusted his stance while she made her play and yawned in front of Tony as she took a seat. 

“What’s up bro? Need a smart brain to help you?” You avoided eye contact with Tony as she saw Steve come behind her. Tony snapped his fingers and she made eye contact with him. 

“I know that little stunt was to piss me off but you seriously have Barnes messed up. He can’t have such a strong Omega near him right now and We knew you could set him off.” Steve moved around the chair she was sitting and grabbed her brother's shoulders.

“Well that’s bullshit because I overheard you referring to Natasha training him tomorrow. So nice try. I’m guessing that you ran my biology with his own and tested how we would affect each other. Then you developed a plan to keep me down here and Steve stay with his “Best Friend”. Well Tony should have thought about bringing down some drinks beforehand or something or not forgetting that usually since Tony was born nine minutes before me I'm the youngest which also means I get what I want.” Makayla crossed her arms and turned away from them while smirking under her breath. She heard Tony growl with a quick reply from Steve, and felt the room's mood change and felt unsafe. 

“You two are mad I get it. Look I will stay away the best I can but he is going to have to deal with it because I live here too.” Tony nodded in agreement as she stomped away from the lab. Pouting her lips together and tapping her foot while she waited for the elevator. Scratching her head she felt her heart sink as the elevator doors opened and a shirtless Bucky with a blanket wrapped around his shoulders was revealed. She quickly checked behind her and moved in beside him. As the doors closed she heard his breath get heavy and his metal arm adjusted again. 

“Look, Tony said I have to stay away from you. I will do my best for a bit but I live here too and you aren’t about to change that.” She smirked his direction and suddenly felt herself pinned against the elevator wall. “F.R.I.D.A.Y. stop the elevator, cut the surveillance, Order by 32895.” She adjusted her breathing and chuckled down at him. 

“I don’t want you to stay away from me.” Bucky brushed his nose by her scent gland and she shivered against his hot skin. 

“I can’t hurt Tony like this. Bucky we are going to have to learn to deal with each other. You are intoxicating to me and I want to say yes...yes so fucking bad.” She cleared her throat as Bucky brought her feet to the ground and hovered over her face. His hair shielded most of the light from the lights and it was like the two were in a different world. She touched his stubble and he leaned into her touch. He nudged his nose along her neck and felt her knees buckle against him as his heavy breath hit her neck. She leaned her head over to open her neck to him wider as he buried his nose into her scent. “I want you.” Bucky clutched her tighter as F.R.I.D.A.Y alerted her to an elevator request from the Lab. She chewed her lip as she quickly hatched a plan. 

“Steve is going to check on you again, more than likely. I can send an alert to your room when the coast is clear and take my watch in your pocket, I can guide you to my room.” Gripping his face and whining into his hair, Bucky slowly released her as the elevator quickly shot up to the rooms and the two departed ways. Going to her room she quickly tossed some clothes away and made her bed. Grabbing her phone she setup a playlist over the speakers and kept it on pause. Checking her stock of contraceptives she shot yourself with a special contraceptive Tony had invented and winced at the pain of the needle.She relaxed back as she carefully watched the time pass by slowly. Sending a quick message through her watch she couldn’t help but worry if Bucky received it. 

(In Bucky’s room)

“Bucky you understand why you can’t engage her in any way. Tony will kill you” Bucky huffed as Steve explained the struggles.

“Why the fuck should he care. He’s already bonded. What, I can’t be happy?!” Steve sighed as he rubbed the back of his neck. 

“Buck you know it’s not that. {Y/N}, she’s not for you. You can’t handle her like the Omegas in the past.” Bucky pushed Steve away and growled. 

“Those Omegas were bitches compared to what I sensed in the few shorts seconds I had.” Bucky felt his pupils dilate and he slammed his fist into a wall.  Steve growled towards him as a warning to calm down and he slammed himself against the bed. Steve smelled the gust of air that Bucky’s body had pushed towards him and he sighed in disappointment. 

“Where did you see her?” Bucky ignored the questioning Steve as he felt her small watch in his pocket start vibrating. He covered it with his hand and avoided looking at Steve. “Buck? Come on.” Steve leaned over him and heard a small beeping sound. “Bucky, you realize I hear that right?” Bucky shrugged his shoulders and Steve took matters into his own hands. Pushing Bucky’s hand out of his pocket when he saw her small watch band fall out of his closed hand. Steve ripped it away from him and asked for F.R.I.D.A.Y to call Tony to Bucky’s room. 

“You two are treating us like horny teenagers and I’m sick of it! {Y/N} is a consenting adult. I am a consenting adult. You two need to keep your dirty noses out of it.” Steve ignored Bucky’s comments and waited for Tony to knock at the door. 

While her watch had been discovered she had changed into a bright red silk robe with a black lace bodysuit. Chewing her lip she hit her phone and sent an alert to her watch. She unlocked her door and signed into the cameras facing next to her room. She adjusted herself in her hanging chair and watched Natasha, Thor, Sam and Wanda go into their rooms. She noticed Tony coming out of Bucky’s room. ‘Great he got yelled at too. Thanks for the ramming tonight then brother.’ She adjusted her hair while she watched the time speed by, she had yet to see Bucky come out of his room and wondered if Tony was really that scary. Sending another alert to her watch she pouted as there was no movement in the cameras. Everyone had gone to sleep it seemed and you were raging mad at Bucky. Was he ignoring your calls? Did something happen? Was he just trying to rut with me?  All of these thoughts clouded her mind until she cried herself into slumber. She doesn’t know what possessed her to cry, she just felt empty.

Let me know what you think and I can definitely post more.

[paversandplatters]

||𝚃𝚑𝚎 𝙱𝚎𝚑𝚊𝚟𝚒𝚘𝚛 𝚘𝚏 𝚂𝚑𝚎𝚎𝚙|| (5/20)

Apocalypse! Au (TW! Minor gore and cussing)

Reader x multiple

Chapter 5: A Flock Found

They pack a wheel barrow to the brim with the newly acquired supplies they find not botheringing to leave behind much of anything, making sure to cop the twenty five gallon container of gasoline from the tool shed out back behind the building... Lord knows they'll need for the grand task ahead of them. By the time the light in the south western sky began to fade from a light gray to pink over the backwaters of the panhandle they're ready. They slip outside through the rectory's side door and creep single file along the edge of the property. Y/n takes the lead, periodically glancing over her shoulder for any sign of the herd that had crossed the highway or any sign of the group that occupied this space all too recently. She carries a glock with a full magazine just in case. The dusky air gets clammy and cool on the back of the stranger's neck as he follows them to the car. They climb in hurriedly, stowing their provisions in the rear cargo bay. Y/n kicks the engine on as the newcomer clambers into the passenger seat next to her- much to the dismay of the other two- unfolding an old dogeared map.

"They usually stick pretty close to the ocean." He says almost to himself, silently calculating the mileage between them and the gulf. "Probably should start down by Perry or Carwfordville." He senses movement ahead of them through the windshield and glances up in time to see a couple of jagged shadows emerging from the woods about a hundred yards away, drawn to the sound of their engine. Garbled growls can be heard over the drone of crickets. The trace smell of garbage on the breeze, the light and space of the outdoors is almost overwhelming to him. He feels like he's been asleep for a hundred years, locked away in that dank and dirty church- he starts to feel dizzy.

Y/n gooses the accelerator and the SUV lurches away. He sinks into his seat as they roar down the road, swerving to avoid the half dozen or so biters now skulking out of the woods blocking their path. They sideswipe one the creatures, ripping a chunk of its shoulder, splattering fresh gore across the glass of his side window.

"You get used to it." she states after he flinches in disgust. He just stares at the splatter, flecks of bone chips, and a long trail of black bile.

"I don't think anyone can get used to that ..." Nick mutters from the back seat.

Night falls and the darkness deepens behind the trees on either side of the road. Most of the streetlights in this part of the country have gone the same way as the internet or cable TV, so the road only gets darker and darker as they head south towards the steaming thickets and festering swamps of the coastal lowlands. The going is slow, most of the two lanes are crowded with rusted out wreckages ,the carcasses of cars and trucks so old now that the weeds and switchgrass have begun to grow up from their metal endoskeletons. The two young men in the rear breathe heavily, thickly, half asleep while Y/n drives and softly hums some forgotten tune. They had passed the jerky and water around a few minutes ago- their standard fare of supper- and now their bellies growl and their eyelids droop with exhaustion.

"You never gave your name..." His hushed voices rings out from the shotgun seat.

"Hadn't crossed my mind at the time, sorry about that... It's Y/n" She chuckles softly. "The one with the headband is Nick but goes by Sapnap, don't ask i don't know- the other one with the accent is George." he just simply hums in reply.

"What about you big guy? What do they call you?"

He takes a moment to regard the woman seated next to him; his head still trying to wrap itself around this complete stranger who's shown him nothing but kindness. On the one hand, she seems trustworthy enough, friendly, a good listener, courteous and capable of single handedly taking out an entire chapel full of reanimated corpses... On the other hand she seems like a walking time bomb. He'd seen her type before- they type that's too kind until something or someone breaks that trust. A hairline trigger. The sad fact is he doesn't have a large array of options. Staying in that hellhole of a church with those enslavers, listening to the groans of the dead, waiting for whatever those bastards would do next quickly loses its charm... Seeing the aftermath of her cleaning house with that knife had given him an odd charge- a cathartic release. He's also aware that he'd never be able to find the caravan on his own given the sorry state he's in. He really has no choice but to go along with her and her scruffy ass men and hope for the best.

"I don't have a name.. that is, one that I can remember.."

She desperately wants to pry, how could he not remember his own name? But the thousand yard stare and glassy gaze is enough to stop her from inquiring any further. "Well we've gotta call you something big guy." She's met with silence in response. "Alright, I guess Big Guy it is then." He offers only a meek hum in response. In an attempt to silence his own raging thoughts his eyes landed on the red bandanna tied to the rearview mirror for what was probably the hundredth time since he started on this way too long car ride.

"... What's that about?" He points to the red scarf.

"It belonged to a friend of mine a long while back, before Sapnap and George were a thing." Her hands tighten their hold on the wheel. "I was caught by 'traders' and he was stuck in the same hole as me... Couldn't have been any older than fourteen at the time. One night the compound was under attack, their front gate was breached- luckily we were kept at the very back end, so when the opportunity came we managed to escape our holding cell and I hoisted him over the wall. Told him to keep running, to not look back. He got away but I was caught again," She takes in a deep breath before resuming her story.

"I was quickly sold off to some asshole who had these two chained up for breaking into their stores... one thing led to another and we snuck out and snagged this ride... we've been moving around since." It was obvious by her tone there was a lot she was leaving out and probably for a good reason. Notably the two in the back seat were dead silent, so much so that it made the air feel heavy and dense enough to cut with a sharp enough knife. Suddenly he was wishing he hadn't bothered to ask in the first place

"That sign back there," He manages, desprate to break the heavy air "Said 'Cross city 12 miles" He glances up from the map in his lap, gazing out the side window at the stewing darkness of Dixie County Florida. "Got a feeling we're getting close."

The vast patchwork of wetlands passes in a blur on either side of them. The land oozing a low blanket of methane as gray as mold, clinging to the shadows of pine thickets and gullies like dirty lace. The air smells briny and rotten with dead fish. Every few minutes they pass the ruins of a small town or wreckage strewn trailer parks. No sign of survivors in these parts, though only the occasional silhouette of an upright corpse shambling by, it's eyes like twin yellow reflectors in the darkness.

"We can't just keep burning gas all night." Sapnap says from his place in the rear, his voice all cranked up with pain and panic "and we can't just go off of what you overheard those traders talking about- Much less go off of feelings.." Big guy just keeps a neural face.

"We're in the ballpark" He persists "Believe me they'll be hard to miss." Y/n grips the steering wheel, her jaw working overtime on a piece of gum, snapping and chewing complusively as she drives.

"How many vehicles do they have in this convoy?" George questions between wheezy breaths.

"No idea... but it's quite a few ."

"That's pretty general."

"They'll be easy to spot." He replies once more, gazing back out at the darkness. "Our best bet is to follow the coast, they like to keep close to the water.."

"Why's that?"

He shrugs. "According to those 'traders' they keep their eyes peeled for ships or any possible way they might get their asses the hell out of here. Most of the bigger boats around here have been destroyed by the hurricane that hit a couple years ago, so it's a long shot that they'll find anything..."

They're about to give up the search when they start to climb the gentle slope- at first so gradual it's almost unnoticeable - up the side of a vast malodorous landfill- the barren trash-strewn scrubland to their left reaches across miles of sandy berms, all the way down to the deserted ghostly boardwalks that wind their way along the beaches. The sky has begun to bruise pink with predawn light and Y/n has just started to say something when the Big Guy sees the first faint streaks of red dots in the distant haze.

"LOOK!" He points his large gnarled hand down at the far dunes of ashen white sand winding along the coast. The surface is so pocked and windswept it resembles the dark side of the moon.

"Where?" She cranes her neck, slowing the vehicle down to a crawl.

"I don't see anything."

"About Half a mile up there... Look at the tail lights!"

She takes a deep cleansing breath as she finally sees the caravan chugging along the coastal road in the predawn light, it looks like embers throwing up puffs of smoke in their wake.

"Holy shit, I see it." A big smile washes over her face, Glad she decided to follow through with this insane plan.

"What do you think of those boys?" The two young men in the rear lean forward, transfixed by the sight, each of them rapt and silent as they gaze at the convoy.

"What are you doing?! Blaster your horn at them," George stutters anxiously. "Don't let them get away !"

Y/n smiles to herself, in her former life she used to be fascinated by the wildlife shows, often catching them in the late night showings after work before she turning in for the night. She remembers one episode in particular, on the behavior of sheep vs the behavior of wolves. She remembers the flock mentality; the sheep moving almost as one, easily managed by a single sheepdog. She remembers the instinct of the Wolf, stealthy, patient as it and its pack creep up on the flock. She shoots a glance across the dark interior at the larger man sat next to her before turning her head to face the two sat behind them.

"I have a better idea."

Taglist

@the-wandering-pan-ace @hvrcruxes

[hazbincalifornia]

Midnight Snack

Chapter 25: Blitzo gets peckish.

Warnings: As always, mpreg, and implied animal death. Also stuffing if that needs a tag I guess, and BABY VIOLENCE. (Violence committed by a baby, not against a baby.)

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Blitzo’s stomach gurgled, and his arms tightened around the pillow that he was hugging to his chest. A fussy, hungry stomach wouldn’t have necessarily been a problem, except for the fact that it had been doing it for the past hour, and he was just about ready to tear it right out of his skin and rip it in half. Acid sloshed around audibly in his empty gut- or maybe the freeloader wanted more room and was just squashing the organ down so much that it had resorted to griping as loudly as it could. Relatable fuckin’ content right there.

Dinner had been two burgers and fries smothered in hot sauce and mayo from the grease trap down the road, which was more than enough to coast through until breakfast. Besides, he’d be damned if the kid was going to make him deal with the grocery store any more than he had to in this condition. No, he was staying right where he was, especially considering he’d been denied any sleep last night. One day low on sleep was manageable with reduced caffeine, two would suck satan’s left tit.

“C’mon, that was enough and you know it, I don’t want you ruining my figure any more than you already have,” he grumbled as the muscles clenched around his stomach, wringing it out like a sponge and drawing a pitiful whine out of his throat. “I’m not gonna just- give in and give you whatever you want, daddy’s gotta do him sometimes and I’m not letting you empty out the fridge. I ate enough, siphon blood outta my system like a normal leech does. I’ve got plenty of that.”

The reply was another gurgling groan and a hard clench as Blitzo’s empty stomach demanded sustenance, this time loud enough to make his middle vibrate even through the pounds of baby. He stuffed the pillow over his mouth, drool leaking down the case and over his chin as he forced out a scream.

He had to take a few seconds to pant before setting a hand on the side of his stomach, fingers drumming. “This is a battle of wills, and I am not letting you win. Your baby-daddy already started all this shit, so I’m just going to treat you the same as him- by ignoring you as long as feasibly possible until you decide to pop up and make everything difficult. Sound good? Yeah, sounds perfect.” There was a nudge from inside and Blitzo nodded in satisfaction at the apparent agreement, settling back down on the bed. He’d gone to sleep hungry plenty of times before, the baby gut notwithstanding, he just had to muscle through this for the next few-

There was no time to muffle the next scream as a sudden pinching pain went from ‘noticeable’ to ‘holy shit who’s tearing up my guts with a chainsaw?’, and there was a thud and a shuffling of feet before Loona started pounding on the door.

“You having a heart attack in there or something?”

Blitzo clutched at his stomach, wheezing as he was clawed apart from the inside out. “N-no!”

“Look, if you die, I’m on the hook for the rent.” Still, there was a semi-worried vibrato to her voice, and he swallowed down the coppery taste flooding up with the saliva to his mouth.

“I’m- fINE-!” His voice pitched up at another pinch-turned-horrorshow and his claws dug all the way through the pillow, stuffing spilling out like viscera.

“What the fuck are you doing in there?” The doorknob jiggled. Where was a portable x-ray when you needed one? Or ultrasound, or whatever the fuck you used to look at a baby that was trying to kill him before it even got out yet. What kind of horrible mouth or claws must it have- oh, fucking hell, Stolas had said something about his kid having a razor-sharp beak from birth, hadn’t he?

“Okay, I’m coming in.” Loona eased the door open, already in her pajamas and clutching a package of opened peanut butter crackers tightly enough that crumbs were sticking to her fingers. “You look like shit.”

“I feel like shit, so good-” Sharp inhale for breath, let it out- “-To know that I’m all on the same page.”

She dropped down on the bed with a metallic creak. “What’d the kid do now?”

“It feels like they’re biting me again, but w-worse- fuck!” Another nip, this one dragging a line on the inside of the womb like they were drift racing in there. Wait, dragging? He swallowed down more coppery bile. “Okay, fine, fine, sheesh, I’ll fuckin’ eat something, happy you little shithead?”

Loona raised an eyebrow. “I didn’t say anything.”

Blitzo shoved himself up off the bed to wobbly knees. “Junior’s gotten real bold, and instead of just sucking up the meat I’m eating for them like a good little lump, they decided to put me on the menu- ow, fuck, I’m going, keep your baby-tits on!”

“Babies don’t have tits, Blitzo.”

“They do if I say they do, sweetie.” Blitzo ruffled Loona’s fur between her ears as he waddled across the room, pausing next to the TV to take a breath.

Loona raised an eyebrow. “Do you need me to bring you something? I don’t want you passing out in the middle of the apartment and tripping over you tomorrow morning.”  In response, Blitzo just waved a dismissive hand.

“I can handle walking across two rooms, Loonie.” The active chewing had paused for the moment, but whatever they’d shredded in there was still shredded, and he’d rather not make it any worse- he had work tomorrow, dammit.

The fridge bathed him in a sickly, hospital-like glow as he tugged it open, and drool immediately started leaking from his mouth as the smells of half-forgotten, time-ripened leftovers hit him. A small mouse with four red eyes leaped up from the floor when he opened the door, burrowing into a box of takeout on the bottom shelf that Loona must have gotten when he’d been at Stolas’s place. His tongue snapped out automatically, snatching its furry body up and slurping up the tail between his lips before swallowing, and it took a second for his brain to load enough to register- after it slid down his throat.

Holy shit, did he just…? It squirmed a little as it descended, little hairs stuck in his teeth, and his fingers tightened on the side of his stomach before he reached for the box it had been after to wash out the aftertaste.

Everything after that was a bit of a blur, although he did retain enough sense of mind to avoid the six-pack of cheap beer in the back that still had four cans on it. Better to not risk puking all of this up or ruining the kid any more than they already were. Carbs, meat, a few wilted veggies that Moxxie had pawned off on him, sweet, sour, cold chili and whole untoasted bagels- it didn’t really matter what it was as long as it was at least mostly edible (he was pretty sure he swallowed a wrapper at some point), he just needed it inside of him now. Smothering everything in hot sauce and salsa and mustard made it more palatable anyway, especially the ice cream. The kid didn’t start taking chunks out of him again, at least, so he must have been doing something right. More and more of the white fridge walls became visible as the floor around him littered with containers, and his stomach grew tighter before he finally slumped back against the nearby counter with a groan. His legs sprawled out on the cool tile, both hands now stained with a mixture of about five kinds of leftovers, and he cradled his stomach after muffling a burp.

“Are you happy now, you needy little shit?”

Blitzo didn’t really expect a reply and almost didn’t hear it over the churning gurgles of digestion, but a soft ‘eee’ of a hoot, more a whisper-screech than anything, murmured from his midsection. He stared down at it, the warmth of his full stomach counteracted by ice dripping down his back.

“Oh, of course you sound just like him.” His claws dragged along the sensitive, itchy-while-stretched skin before the protection spell sprung up and pushed the fingers away. It only let him touch his own stupid body when he laid his palm flat. “Sure, it’s cute now when it's all little and squeaky, but you’d better not be as entitled as he is, alright? Or as you are now, since I’ve gotta do everything for you until you’re born. Considering you just settled right down in there without even asking in the first place, I doubt it. Rude.”

There were no more noises other than his stomach grumbling about going from empty to full so quickly, and he stayed slumped against the cabinet for long enough to let some of it digest. He must have been more tired than he thought, because he swore that he already looked bigger than he’d been when he’d finished binging. Maybe it started swelling in a bad reaction from whatever fucked-up food cocktail he'd accidentally made.

When he didn’t feel quite so much like a boulder had gotten stuffed inside his guts, it took three tries to haul his ass off the tile and drag himself back to bed, huffing like a cop running for the last doughnut in the process.

The ice had crept from his spine to the rest of his bones and muscles as he tugged the blanket tight around himself, but at least the churning food kept his stomach warm, and he passed out as soon as his head hit the pillow.

[yansurnummu]

Gingerbread (AO3)

Crow isn't very good at baking, but James is there to help.

(Crow/Young Wolf)

Crow sees the ship fly overhead, and he finds it hard to suppress his grin. He starts toward where it was heading, out on the flats of the Tangled Shore, a giddy feeling in his chest.

Eventually, he catches up to it – an old Eliksni ketch, the hull a patchwork of scratched metals and chipped green paint, Thief Queen's Hubris painted on the bow – off in the distance, parked in the gulch. As he gets closer, he can see the side hatch open, the owner of the ketch sitting on the cargo ramp next to a box of tools, conversing with a Vandal some meters away.

Crow's heart flutters at the sight of him, in that dirty green cloak, hood pulled back to reveal messy black curls. He can feel Glint nudging him to approach.

James' face lights up when he notices him, giving a friendly wave. The Vandal nods in Crow's direction, chittering respectfully. 

"Thank you, Avris," the Wolf addresses the Eliksni, "I'll make it up to you. Be safe, now."

"It is my pleasure. You've done enough for us," they say before turning, "Crow," Avris bows before picking up their rifle and taking off.

Crow looks at James curiously, and James looks at the ground, a sad smile on his lips.

"I've been… looking for a friend of mine. Avris said she might'a seen her," he explains.

"Is she here?" Crow prods.

"On the Shore? No," he sighs. "Her ship was seen on the outer edges of the Reef, but that's all I got." 

He doesn't elaborate, and Crow gets the sense that it's not something he wants to talk about. He stands, picking up the crate of tools and descending the ramp. "Anyway," he digs out a handheld drill from the seemingly unorganized crate. "How's things?"

"I'm doing okay," Crow smiles, watching James fit the drill bit and begin work on unscrewing a panel on the hull. "I, um…" anxiety rises in his chest as he rests a hand over his messenger bag, "I brought you something."

James looks at him, surprised, nearly dropping the now loose steel panel. Crows bites his lip, digging through the bag and procuring a small container. The Wolf sets the panel and drill down, giving Crow his full attention.

"I… well," he stumbles, holding the box in his hands nervously. "Last year, you showed me kindness when I had nothing. And you… continue to show me kindness," James approaches him, and Crow gives him a sheepish smile. "So… this is for you. Happy Dawning."

He holds out the small box, and James takes it gingerly. He regards it with wide brown eyes, and Crow worries he might have overstepped, misread him–

But before he can finish that thought, James is throwing his arms around him and he has soft lips on his own. Crow's arms move around James' waist and he can't help but smile against his mouth. They part after a moment, the man's arms around his neck and a grin on his face, and Crow's breath is stolen by how precious he is.

"Fuck, that's so sweet of you," James laughs, leaning in to press his lips to Crow's cheek.

"You haven't even opened it yet!" Crow chuckles, and he leans up to kiss James' forehead.

"Don't matter," he beams, but pulls back anyways. 

He motions Crow to follow him, and they sit together on the floor of the cargo bay. James pulls at the ribbon holding the parcel together, Crow watching nervously as he opens the box. 

"Did you make cookies?" James asks excitedly upon seeing the contents of the box.

"I mean, yeah, I'm not very good at it, though…" he fidgets, and James smiles at him.

The Wolf leans over and kisses him softly and Crow momentarily forgets his worries. When he pulls away, James looks genuinely happy, and Crow remembers what Glint told him.

It's the thought that's important.

Crow believes him now. Back when he first met James, he shared a container of food with him, and Crow nearly cried. It was something so simple, and yet the gesture caused a surge of emotions in him. It didn't matter what it was, but it was the fact that somebody thought of him, cared about him enough to share that with him. He supposes this isn't that different.

"Here," James breaks one of the cookies in half, offering a half to Crow. Crow realises that he never actually tried them, a new wave of nerves coming over him.

He takes a bite, and freezes.

It's bad.

James doesn't say anything, but Crow can tell by the way he chews slowly, a look of contemplation on his face, that he too knows they're not good.

They're spongy, a little elastic and burnt on the bottom, and they've got an unpleasant bite to them that Crow recognizes as the ginger root. They taste nothing like the gingerbread he was trying to make.

"I am so sorry," Crow speaks first, embarrassed. James bites his lips like he's trying his hardest not to smile.

"Crow, did you… try to make gingerbread with actual ginger?" James looks at him, and he nods shamefully. "Oh, honey."

James chuckles, putting the box down and wrapping his arms around Crow. Crow whines apologetically, and James presses soft kisses along his jaw and neck. "I love it," he laughs, his voice muffled in Crow's hood.

"You do?" Crow puzzles.

"Yeah, that's so fuckin' cute."

Crow flushes, a smile pulling at his lips. It's the thought that matters, he thinks, a little shy.

The Wolf pulls him into his ship, and Crow realises he's never seen the interior. It looks like a collection of centuries of junk and knick knacks and boxes, seemingly random in their assortment. There's things from old Earth, patterned rugs and curtains and furniture that looks like it's been broken and repaired a dozen times.

James takes him into a kitchen that's certainly not standard for a ship like this, leading Crow to believe it was installed by the Wolf himself. It's as cluttered as the rest of the ship, with dozens of mismatched jars and containers of spices and grains and dried legumes.

James makes him dinner, letting Crow help with chopping tomatoes and onions and garlic. He tells him what spices he adds, and how to tell when things are cooked well enough, and Crow files the knowledge away eagerly. Crow asks about objects around his kitchen, and every item and decoration seems to have a story to it. It isn't until then that the reality of how old James is hits him.

The dish smells amazing when it's done. James calls it chana masala, a curry of chickpeas, tomatoes, and onions that's healthy and relatively simple to make. It's so good that Crow fears he might actually cry this time. He's overwhelmed by the idea that James is teaching him to cook, giving him the tools to fend for himself if he needs to.

Later, James shows him how to make gingerbread cookies over mugs of sweet mulled wine. Ain't no ginger, despite the name, he laughs. 

Crow sits at the kitchen table, warm mug in his hands as he watches James stir the batter with a spatula. The room is filled with the warm smell of cloves, pepper, cinnamon, brown sugar, and roasted walnuts, and he has a moment where all he can do is stare at the man, stars in his eyes. James' sleeves are rolled up, showing lean, tattooed hands and forearms, and Crow smiles to himself, his heart fluttering. 

James' brown eyes flick up to meet his own, and Crow swallows, breaking eye contact, suddenly shy, and downs the last contents of his mug.

The cookies turn out astronomically better than what he had made on his own. They're soft and fluffy and pleasantly spiced, with diced nuts sprinkled on top. But James taught him how to make them, instead of ridiculing or faulting him for failing the first time.

This time, Crow does cry. He's a little tipsy and the emotions are just too much, and tears fall down his cheeks as he eats the cookie. 

James embraces him, shushing him softly. Crow feels safe with him, he thinks. He feels like he can have this vulnerable moment and not be judged, not be seen as lesser.

He stays with James that night. His bed is cramped, nothing more than a bunk behind the cockpit, but Crow's slept in far worse places. And besides– having James with him is enough to make any place seem like a palace.

He smiles as James presses against his back, arm around his waist, placing a kiss to his shoulder.

"Happy Dawning," he whispers.

[shesclearlya3]

Summer of ‘84

Xavier Plympton x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3,426

Warnings: smut, language, sex in a public place, au!, all characters are 18+, i’m sorry if this is bad lmao

**using my current tag-list so feel free to ignore**

It was June of 1984 when you and your close friends returned to your jobs at the local drive-in theatre the last Summer before you started college.

It was your second year working here, and you were sad that it would be the last. It was an easy job. You'd work nights only five days a week. It was nice being able to make your own money and have fun with your friends while doing it. 

You were working the concession stand tonight with Xavier Plympton. You had been friends with him the longest out of the bunch. He was one of the best co-workers you could ever ask for. Despite his constant complaining about dealing with customers, he was always armed with perfect comebacks when you were stuck dealing with a Karen. Plus, he did work hard, which was a relief. Some of the other teenagers you worked with were only there for the paycheck, clearly. 

You were particularly excited because you were able to see the screen playing Gremlins and Ghostbusters. You rarely got to enjoy the movies. You were either working the ticket booth or continuously walking around, making sure nobody tried to sneak under the rotting wooden gates surrounding the lot. 

It was just after 9:30 when Gremlins started, and you and Xavier had just finished up the line.

"Let's hope the crowd stays away so we can clean up." he sighed, stretching his arms above his head. The ugly yellow shirts you had to wear rode up a little, and you caught yourself staring before a pair of hands covered your eyes.

"Gah!" you said, and you heard the loud laugh of Montana Duke behind you. 

"Sheesh, you're such a scaredy-cat!"

"I was distracted!" you said, your cheeks burning as you started to wipe down the counter, which was covered in popcorn kernels. "Shouldn't you be with Brooke right now?"

Montana slid over the countertops, going to the pop machine where she started filling up two cups. "We're parched, it's just now starting to cool down a bit. Larry is making us patrol for the next forty-five minutes before the others take over."

You nodded, scrubbing a particularly stubborn spot of butter that was probably from the night before. 

Xavier had laughed at what Montana said, and you immediately knew why. They had been caught in quite the compromising position the first night the theatre was opened this season. You were surprised they hadn't been fired, and Brooke had given two shifts away after the fact to avoid being questioned about it. 

"He's a fucking pervert anyway," Montana said, putting lids on both cups. "I gotta go. Be good!" she called sweetly before she bounced out of the rickety building. 

"I wish these fucking fans would work!" Xavier grumbled, fumbling with the switch of the nearest overhead fan. It made a creaking noise, the metal blades moving an inch before it stopped. 

"They're ancient," you laughed, finally getting the spot cleaned. "Candace told me they've been here since this place opened."

"These are like forty years old then, how fucking convenient," he grumbled, before giving up. "You'd think they could afford to replace them."

"Watch your language," you scolded. "We don't need another complaint."

Xavier smirked at you, starting to restock the popcorn buckets. "y/n, you should really stop being so uptight, babe." he teased you.

"I am not uptight!" you gasped, your mouth falling open as you dropped the rag into the sanitizer bucket. 

"Exactly what someone uptight would say!" he retorted, laughing at you, his hands methodically stacking the buckets handful by handful. 

"You won't think it's amusing when you're fired, you ass!" you said, causing Xavier to throw his head back and laugh rambunctiously. 

"That's the least of my worries, babe," he grinned at you, and you felt your heart swell. "What would you do without me?" he said.

"I'd probably actually get some work done..." you mumbled, starting to refill the popcorn machine with fresh kernels. "But I'd have to deal with the bitchy Karens all on my own."

"Watch your language!" Xavier mocked you, balling up the plastic and tossing it in the nearest trash-can. "Hey y/n- oh, someone is coming."

You told Xavier you would take care of the customer as he started restocking the cups, watching as you showed the young boy all of the ice creams you had. He was cute, probably no older than eleven with thick-framed glasses and a toothy smile. 

"Thank you, Miss," he said, before hurrying out.

"I think he liked you," Xavier said as you closed the register. "That's cute."

You rolled your eyes, seeing Larry sitting in the projection room, already asleep. "Shut up, he's young."

The next half-an-hour you only helped two other customers. Many people came to use the bathrooms, but other than that, you were alone with Xavier. You had cleaned up everything there was to clean, and you decided to dig out the book you brought to pass the time. 

Xavier watched the screen through the large window next to the entrance, the portable stereo tuned into the theatre's station. He was very amused by Gizmo, even gushing at the little creature.

"That's cute," you mumbled to yourself, chewing on your lip to keep from giggling.

"I heard that," he said crossly, his eyes on you now.

"I didn't say anything," you shrugged, bookmarking your page. "I'm hungry, I want a pretzel."

"Lucky for you, I popped one in for you," Xavier said, gesturing towards the pretzel heater right next to him. "It should be done now."

"Thank you, Xavier!" you said happily, coming over and taking it out. Xavier watched you, and he reached next to him for a bucket of popcorn he had gotten for himself. He put a handful in his mouth as you started pouring nacho cheese into a plastic container. 

"Hey, y/n?" he asked again, looking at you.

"Yes?" you asked, watching the hot cheese, feeling your stomach growl with hunger.

"Do you remember my friend Chet? He graduated last year?"

You nodded, moving to sit next to him on the counter. "The cute dark-haired kid who is really athletic?" 

"That's him," Xavier said, stuffing more popcorn into his mouth. "I ran into him the other day, and I told him I was working here again. He said he worked here for a season before we met."

You encouraged him to keep going, wondering where this was going. You knew Chet Clancy, mainly because he was a popular jock who dated multiple girls throughout the years. You have only spoken a few words with him in your entire life, but he was sweet enough. 

"Uhm..." he said, looking a little nervous now. You thought it was odd, he rarely became this way around you. "He asked about you."

You perked up, tearing your pretzel in half as you watched him see if he were joking. He wasn't, looking you dead in the eyes, and you could see he was honest.

"He asked about me?" you asked, shocked.

"Yeah, he kind of... Hinted, that he was interested in you."

You found yourself smiling. "Really? I never really talked to him..."

Xavier nodded, "I know. I was a little shocked myself."

You ate some of your food, now thinking about dating Chet Clancy. You never would have imagined it, and not even because you rarely knew him. He just seemed so out of reach. You weren't the "normal" crowd he hung out with.

"Wow... That's insane," you said simply.

"Yeah... But I kind of choked up and said we were dating."

You spit out your tiny bite of food, covering your mouth as Xavier looked at you with wide eyes. "WE'RE NOT DATING!"

"Shh!" Xavier said, almost dropping his popcorn in an attempt to cover your mouth. "I know, y/n, I don't even know what happened," he growled, tossing the bucket aside. "I panicked."

"Why would you panic?" you asked, wrinkling your nose as you picked up your un-chewed food with a napkin and tossed it in the bin. "We're friends."

"I got... Jealous," he replied lamely.

You glanced up at him, and he was looking at his lap, his face wrinkled in embarrassment. You were thrown for a loop. As long as you had known each other, not once did there seem to be any romantic inclination. Of course, you've crushed on him a bit, I mean, who wouldn't? He was funny, charismatic, gorgeous, and saw something in you that he wanted to be your friend.

"Why?" was all you managed, your voice hushed and confused.

"It made me realize that I like you. And we're not little kids anymore. If I didn't tell you how I felt, then I might lose the opportunity to tell you." he said, before laughing dryly, "I guess it took another guy being interested in you for me to wise up and stop being an idiot."

You started to grin at him, and Xavier looked relieved. "Does this mean you're not mad?" 

"I'm not mad," you assured him, putting your food to the side. "I'm just surprised. I never would have thought..."

"Babe, I'm clearly head over heels for you, I tease you relentlessly because I like to make you laugh. And I like when you get snappy with me." he grinned at you, his eyes sparkling as you heard a group of teenagers pile into the bathroom, giggling. 

You scooted closer to Xavier, and you could smell his body wash. "I just thought it meant you liked to pick on me." 

He threw his arm over your shoulder, pulling you into his side. "I do, with love."

After that, you had spent the rest of Gremlins talking, sitting close to each other, and giggling madly. You had to go back to work once intermission started, and you felt your heart-beating wildly every time you heard Xavier's voice. You listened as girls giggled and whispered about him, cashing them out with a broad smile. At one point, you heard him go, "Sorry, ladies, I'm taken."

When the last movie started, you turned off all the machines, cleaning everything down quickly. The one thing you liked about this theatre is that intermission was the final call. You'd have time to clean up and be on your way home before the second movie was even half-way through.

You had set aside some food for the others while you finished up. Brooke Thompson and Montana came in, taking some leftovers and asking if you wanted to watch Ghostbusters. 

"We'll be out in a bit," Xavier said, gesturing to the broom he was holding. "Whoever worked in here last time did a shit job."

"Cool, we'll be in my car!" Montana said, before scurrying out with Brooke, their arms full of popcorn, soda, and nachos.

"I'm so ready to skip this joint!" Xavier said after he finished swimming, and you switched off the first set of lights. 

"Me too. Are there any nachos left?" you asked, locking up the safe.

"Just enough for the both of us," he replied. You stood up, walking over to him, and you ended up tripping over your shoes, colliding with his chest.

"Oh shit, you alright?" he asked, grabbing you tightly.

"I'm fine!" you laughed, looking up at his figure towering over you. "I think I tripped over the crack in the floor..."

Xavier stared down at you, and you felt his hand come up and brush against your cheek. You felt your skin tingle underneath his touch. "We're gonna get caught."

"I don't care," Xavier whispered before he leaned down and pressed his lips to yours.

You held your breath as you melted into his touch. You've been in a few relationships before in your time, but nothing ever compared to what you were currently feeling. Xavier held your head in his hands, your kiss becoming more heated until you felt him pulling you towards the back, where the storage was kept.

"We're gonna get-."

Xavier cupped a hand over your mouth, pulling you into the closet before shutting the door. There was a single light hanging above you that he flicked on, and you could barely see the movie screen from the rectangular window sitting high above your heads.

"Trust me, Babe. If you're quiet, we'll be fine."

You nodded, holding onto him as Xavier pushed an empty box onto the floor, lifting you up and setting you on top of a sturdy table. There wasn't a whole lot of room. He reached over to lock the door.

"What are you doing?" You asked, kicking off your shoes. You were wearing denim shorts, and the air around you was much colder than you expected. You got goosebumps as Xavier played with the button of your shorts.

"Could I take these off?" He asked.

You nodded shyly, biting your lip as he slowly unbuttoned them, the only sound being your shared breathing and the zipper being lowered down.

"Have you done this before, y/n?" He asked, his hands gripping the waistband of your shorts.

"I've done a few things..." you said, your cheeks becoming hot.

"I'll be gentle, I promise." He said, before starting to tug your undergarments off. You lifted your hips, and he quickly let them drop to the floor. Outside you could hear the audience collectively laughing at something.

Xavier shed out of his shirt, throwing it on the nearest shelf. He wasn't overly muscular but was nicely toned. You've seen him shirtless many times over the years, but this time was different. He was beautiful.

"Are you enjoying the view?" He asked arrogantly, flashing you a smile as you instinctively crossed your legs. "Ah, spread them for me, babe." He kindly scolded.

"Of course, I am!" You respond, "You're hot, and you know it, babe."

"Cute," he winked at you, before looping his arms underneath your legs. Your breath caught in your throat as he pulled you closer, spreading your legs out for him. You could feel how wet you were against the crisp air, and you wanted to die from embarrassment at how easily you became aroused.

"Remember to stay quiet." He said, grinning at you mischievously. "You don't want to get caught."

You squeezed your eyes shut at his arrogance. "Fuck you."

The words had barely left your mouth when you felt his tongue lick a quick swipe along your thigh. You shuddered at the feeling; your stomach trembling as Xavier purposely teased you. You weren't lying when you said you have a little experience. But, you never received oral before. You gave it once, and that was it.

You let out a quiet gasp as he finally licked along your folds, your hands itching to grab onto his hair already. You refrained, lifting them above your head to keep from messing anything up.

Xavier was skilled as he ran his tongue gingerly along your folds, before pushing his tongue inside. The feeling caused hundreds of butterflies to fly over your stomach. Your thighs clenched as he adjusted his hold on you, kneeling down to push his head deeper between your legs.

"Oh, fuck!" You said a little too loudly before you felt his hand covering your mouth. You mewled and sighed against him as Xavier slowly ate you out. You always heard from Montana that it was one of the best feelings in the world, but you never imagined it being quite like this.

Nor did you ever expect to be here with Xavier, but life was crazy.

You grabbed onto Xavier's arm as he started sucking on your clit. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head when he teased your entrance with a single finger, barely testing the waters.

You were lost in the feeling when suddenly the door handle rattled. You jumped out of your skin, nearly trapping Xavier between your thighs when you heard the security guards' high-pitched voice. "Fuck! Larry must have locked it before he left."

Xavier freed himself, prepared to cover you with his body when the voice of Mason, a co-worker say, "It's fine, we'll just have to look in there tomorrow. I can't find the key anywhere."

You heard their footsteps fade away, and you and Xavier both glanced at each other, before giggling madly.

"I'm sorry, y/n," he whispered in your ear.

"It's not your fault?" You said, running your hand along his face now.

"I'm gonna go back down here now," he said, kissing your hand before slinking down your body again. You let him go, now covering your own mouth as he grabbed your legs, his mouth instantly closing over your clit.

"That's it, baby," he encouraged, his fingers once again teasing your entrance. "I'm gonna make you cum in my mouth."

Xavier continued until you were shaking so severely that he had to hold you down by the hips, almost forcing you to keep your legs open. Xavier pumped a finger inside of you, his thumb meeting your clit while his tongue teased it simultaneously.

You came in minutes, sighing loudly against your hand as Xavier cleaned you up, before placing kisses along your thighs. You breathed heavily as you sat up, quickly taking off your shirt, revealing your bra.

"Fuck, y/n," he said, allowing you to unbutton his pants, your hands fumbling to get them off as soon as possible. "You're hot."

"And horny, so please take off your pants." You begged, reaching behind you to unclasp your bra. When you were completely naked, you stared at Xavier's dick, wondering how in the hell it was supposed to fit.

"Don't look so scared, babe," Xavier said, cupping your cheeks in his hands. "Have you?..."

You shook your head, "I never got this far."

Xavier nuzzled your neck, and you wrapped your legs around him as he kissed along your skin, trailing along your collarbone before placing kisses on your jawline.

"Do you have a condom?" You asked, suddenly having an epiphany on the importance of safe sex.

"There's a box behind the pack of lightbulbs," he said, and you pulled back to look at him. "Chet told me about them, I swear."

Xavier wasted no time grabbing a condom from said hiding place, and you watched as he slid it on with ease. You wrapped a leg around his hips again, and he hugged you while he pressed kisses to your face.

"Let me know if I'm hurting you, baby girl," he whispered, and you nodded, holding him tightly.

You focused on the sound of more laughter from the audience, keeping your breathing under control as Xavier slowly pushed inside of you. He felt you tense up, holding you tightly and not moving until you encouraged him to do so.

After a few moments, you told him to move, figuring it would worsen before it got better. Xavier nodded, still holding you tight as he rocked his hips into yours, both of you panting as you grew more comfortable having his dick inside of you.

When you felt a lot better, you laid flat against the table, keeping a leg wrapped around him while he increased his pace. Xavier's face was screwed up as the pleasure coursed throughout your body. His large hand reached forward, grabbing at your breasts while you attempted to keep your moans at bay.

"Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck," you said, trying to keep your leg from slipping off his hip.

"You're so fucking hot, babe," he said, leaning over you until you were almost nose to nose. "I want you to come for me, y/n,"

You shook your head, not wanting this to stop.

Xavier hid his laugh, increasing his face slightly. "You're going to fucking come for me, y/n."

"Make. Me." You said through clenched teeth.

Xavier laughed now, adjusting your free leg enough to easily slip his hand over your clit. He rubbed you out with his thumb, focusing on you, wanting you to come before he did.

"That's it," Xavier cooed as you finally clinched around him, crying out behind your hand as he slowed down, watching as you coated his length. "Fuck..."

You dug your heel into his skin as Xavier came, his hips stilling as he kneeled over you, kissing you deeply. You were breathless as he kissed you fiercely, hardly allowing you a break until he climbed off you.

You sat up, feeling light. "That was amazing."

Xavier grinned at you, pulling on his boxers after taking off the condom. "It's all you babe, not me."

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