#so i started tossing all my points into yellow like no tomorrow

[zincbot]

finally something rotten is talking about a game i've already played! disco elysium!

.... listening is making me want to replay it

[theonetruegnome]

Who's this?

Guess what? @daydreamer36 and I Were talking the other day and though sheer brainpower we conceived an amazing writing idea. Pleas enjoy!

Conk-Out was absolutely exhausted. He had spent all night tossing and turning but only managed around 30 minutes of sleep. Right now, he was perched in the shaded boughs of a maple tree with his brow furrowed, trying desperately to fall asleep. The others were playing some sort of game, he didn't know what, he hadn't opened his eyes in a while. Occasionally he would hear some snippet of conversation, 'Have at ye!', 'En garde!', 'Great heavens!', so he assumed they were duelling. He forced open one heavy eyelid. Yep, they were sword fighting with sticks and branches. Sighing, he let his eye drop. He really did hate his irregular schedule, he could never properly play with his friends! It sucked! It wouldn't be so bad if he just slept all the time, it was not being able to sleep that was the annoying part. He could just never... get a proper...

'ZZZzzzz...'

'Conk?'

Suddenly Conk was awake and tense. He recognised that voice. The others had stopped mid-clash to look 'round at the source of the noise. Dandy pointed,

'What the hell is that?'

It looked like a large lilac bush that was wandering slowly towards them. Conk leapt from the high branch he was perched on and landed gracefully behind his friends.

'Conk what-' Dandy was interrupted when he roughly shoved past them with a muttered 'Sorry' and began running towards the bush.

'Conky!'

Noticing him, the bush sped up, waddling towards them with its arms outstretched. ...Wait, arms? Conk reached the bush and bent over slightly to embrace it while it wrapped its arms around his legs.

'Uhhh, has Conk gone insane?' 'Yeah, why's he hugging a bush?' 'Maybe he's finally gone clinically insane from sleep deprivation!' '*Sigh* I'll get the tranq' gun.' A minute later he turned around and walked back to the group with the bush in tow. As they got closer Dandy noticed something,

'Wait, that's a person!'

The others squinted at the strange thing; Dandy was right! The bush has a face, it's smiling and holding Conk's hand. He meanwhile looks drained, practically dead on his feet. As they get closer, the more distinguishing features of the smaller figure come into focus; A yellow beak, two small faded booties and a deep purple scarf that's too big for it, just like the one Conk pins his charm to. Finally, conk reaches them and sighs a very relieved sigh. 'Hi guys.'

Dandy begins whooping appreciatively. 'Well well well! Didn't know you had a girlfriend Conk! So, how'd you two meet?' Eli says, crossing his arms and smirking at him. '…Eli, that's not-' 'Oh come on Mana, it's obvious! The signs are all there: Her yelling his name, him running up to meet her, her wearing his clothes, that hug! Those are telltale signs of puppy love. No offence Munch.' 'None taken.' 'But Eli, she's not-' 'They're-'

'Guys, thanks, but I'll deal with it.' Conk turns to face Eli. 'Eli, I'm sorry, but she's not my girlfriend.'

Leah interjects, 'But then what- Ohhh!' She then eyes the girl nervously and begins fiddling with her camera.

Eli looks from her to Conk and frowns, but it is swiftly replaced by a look that screams 'yeah, right!' 'Conkerel, dude, there's nothing to be ashamed about, it's great that you're the first of us to get a date! But the problem is you being open with us, we gotta communicate more. We can start by you just admitting-' Conk holds his hand up for silence, 'Eli, for the last time, she's not my girlfriend,' 'Dude,-' 'Because she's my sister.' 'W-what?'

'She's my little sister. Say hi Cham.' 'Hello!'

I am so sorry, I know I've been working on this for a few days, but it's like midnight here, I have to travel in the morning and my eyes are so tired. Part two coming hopefully tomorrow!

[taeswolfie]

𝑱𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒂 𝑭𝒆𝒆𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒈 : 𝑪𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒕𝒆𝒓 𝑻𝒉𝒓𝒆𝒆

☽︎𝑷𝒂𝒄𝒌 𝑴𝒆𝒏𝒕𝒂𝒍𝒊𝒕𝒚☾︎

Ch.02 - Ch.04

Series Masterlist

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski x fem!Reader

Word count: 4.4k

Y/n lays asleep in her bed, hair splayed across her pillow and lips slightly parted as slow and steady breaths move her chest. Her sleep is peaceful until a distant howl is heard. Her brows furrow and her breathing picks up a bit as she starts to shift in her sleep. Her hands clench and her legs move, her sheets quickly becoming wrapped around them as her head moves to the side. Another howl rips through the air. Her skin is coated with a thin layer of sweat as she starts to pant, her face conveying the fear from her dream.

Screams.

The color yellow.

Bloody claws.

Red eyes.

She sits bolt upright with a gasp, her eyes wide and glowing their violet hue, hands grasping at her chest. She looks down and holds her hands in front of her face. When she sees they're clean she sighs in relief. She rakes a hand through her hair as she takes deep breaths to calm herself. In through the nose, out through the mouth. As she calms down her irises dim to their normal e/c hue. The details from her dream instantly start slipping from her mind and she can't remember anything that happened. All she remembers is the fear when she saw them. The red eyes. They were angry, power hungry, a fire of rage flickering within their depths. She had a feeling she wouldn't be getting back to sleep tonight so she grabbed a blanket and went to the living room to watch TV until it was time for her to get ready for school.

...

"So you killed her?" Stiles asks as he opens the school door, letting Y/n and Scott through before following himself. Scott had been telling them about his nightmare where he wolfed out and killed Allison on a school bus.

"I don't know." Scott shrugged. "I just woke up. And I was sweating like crazy, and I couldn't breathe. I've never had a dream where I woke up like that before."

"Really? I have. Usually ends a little differently."

"TMI, Stiles." Y/n gave him a slightly disgusted look, but still chuckled at his blunt delivery.

"A) I meant I've never had a dream that felt that real, and B) never give me that much detail about you in bed again." Scott continued.

"Noted." Stiles nodded. "Let me take a guess here."

"No, I know, you think it has something to do with me going out with Allison tomorrow, like I'm gonna lose control and rip her throat out."

"No, of course not." Scott looked at Stiles for a moment before he caved. "Yeah, that's totally it. Hey, come on, it's gonna be fine, all right?"

"You know, dreams have a way of showing us our own stresses and desires. We process things through our dreams. That particular one could be your own worries and fears about hurting her." Y/n shared.

"Personally I think you're handling this pretty freakin' amazingly." Stiles complimented. "You know, it's not like there's a Lycanthropy for Beginners class you can take."

"Yeah, not a class, but maybe a teacher." Scott hinted.

"Who, Derek?" Stiles smacks the back of Scott's head and Y/n promptly returned the gesture to Stiles. He looked at her in offense, rubbing the back of his head.

"Don't hit him. He has a point." She scolded.

"You forgetting the part where we got him tossed in jail?"

"Yeah, I know, but chasing her, dragging her to the back of the bus, it felt so real." Scott said.

"How real?" Y/n asked.

"Like it actually happened." The boys open each door and Y/n trails behind Stiles as they walk out only to take a few steps and pause at the sight of a bloody and damaged school bus.

"I think it did." Scott looked at Stiles shocked.

"She's fine, Scott." Y/n assured as she and Stiles followed the now panicked boy.

"She's not answering my texts, Y/n." He fretted.

"It could just be a coincidence, all right?" Stiles tried to reassure.

"A seriously amazing coincidence. Just help me find her, okay?" Scott frantically looked front and back for any sign of Allison. "Do you see her?"

"No."

Y/n could hear his rapidly increasing heartbeat. "Scott, you need to calm down. Allison is just fine." Her words fell on deaf ears as he anxiously raked a hand through his hair and turned a corner. Y/n and Stiles fell back when he leaned against a locker. He gripped it as he breathed harshly before yelling out and punching the locker so hard the door dented and swung crookedly on one hinge. Stiles went to go to him but Y/n stopped him. "Just wait. I've got a good feeling."

"How can you have a good feeling about that?" He flailed an arm loosely in Scott's direction.

She turned to look at him. "Just trust me." He looked between her eyes, his own showing hesitation, before he nodded. They watched as Scott backed away from the locker and into the adjacent hall where he bumped right into Allison, accidentally making her drop her books. Allison smiled and said something they couldn't hear and Y/n could practically see the relief on Scott when he realized it was her. "See? I told you." Y/n smiled at Stiles in triumph and he just huffed a laugh at her. Everyone's attention was then drawn to the PA system as an announcement was made.

"Attention, students, this is your principal. I know you're all wondering about the incident that occurred last night to one of our buses. While the police work to determine what happened, classes will proceed as scheduled."

There's a collective groan from the students and Y/n chuckles at their reactions. "Come on, let's get to class." Y/n grabbed Stiles hand and led them down the hall.

In Chemistry, Mr. Harris writes on the chalkboard. Y/n sits in the farthest back corner away from the teacher due to the fact that she wasn't a big fan of him and sitting there, there was less chance of her being called, him being a douche, and her responding in kind resulting in detention. No matter how much she tried to hold her tongue something in her blood made her snark back at him.

"Maybe it was my blood on the door." Y/n's writing pauses as she hears Scott quietly talk to Stiles who was sitting right behind him.

"Could have been animal blood. You know, maybe you caught a rabbit or something." Stiles speculated.

"And did what?"

"Ate it."

"Raw?"

"No, you stopped to bake it in a little werewolf oven. I don't know, you're the one who can't remember anything."

"Mr. Stilinski, if that's your idea of a hushed whisper, you might want to pull the headphones out every once in a while." Mr. Harris said snidely. Y/n had to clench her teeth and close her eyes at the ass of a teacher. "I think you and Mr. McCall would benefit from a little distance, yes?"

"No." Stiles denied but his mind was set. Mr. Harris gestured to different seats farther apart and the boys obliged.

"Let me know if the separation anxiety gets to be too much." Stiles scoffs a laugh and settles in the empty space next to Y/n.

"You guys need to learn how to whisper better." Y/n actually whispered with a teasing smile. Stiles nudged her with a small smile and she quietly snickered until a gasp rang through the room.

"Hey, I think they found something." A girl jumped from her seat and everyone followed her to the window to see a group of EMT's wheeling an injured man on a gurney to an ambulance.

"That's not a rabbit." Scott pointed out. The man sat up and screamed, making everyone in the class jump back and scream. Scott backed up more than others in shock.

"Hey, this is good, right?" Y/n asked when she noticed Scott and followed him, Stiles coming a moment later.

"Yeah," Stiles agreed, "this is good. He got up, he's not dead. Dead guys can't do that."

"Guys..." Scott called. "I did that."

...

The trio grabs their lunch in the cafeteria and goes to an empty table. "But dreams aren't memories." Stiles said.

"Some people dream about their memories." Y/n pointed out.

"Then it wasn't a dream." Scott reasoned as they sat down. "Something happened last night. And I can't remember what."

"What makes you so sure that Derek even has all the answers?" Stiles asked.

"Because during the full moon he wasn't changed. Ask Y/n, she saw him." Stiles looked at the girl who shrugged and nodded. "He was in total control while I was running around in the middle of the night attacking some totally innocent guy."

"You don't know that." Y/n denied.

"I don't not know it. I can't go out with Allison. I have to cancel."

"No, you're not canceling, all right?"

"You can't just cancel your entire life." Stiles agreed. "We'll figure it out."

"Figure what out?" Lydia's voice appeared with her sitting her tray down next to Scott and across from Y/n.

Stiles practically choked on a laugh and Scott was caught off guard at the sudden appearance so Y/n rolled her eyes and spoke up. "Just homework." Y/n smiled at her friend.

"Yeah." Stiles agreed and then whispered to his friends. "Why is she sitting with us?" Scott gave him a look that said he didn't know while Danny sat next to Y/n, Allison sat next to Scott, and another boy and girl took the empty spots on either end of the table.

"Hey, Danny boy."

"Hi, Y/n." He smiled in greeting. While Y/n didn't get along with Jackson, his friend Danny wasn't so bad.

"Get up." Jackson ordered the boy sitting at the end next to Lydia and Danny.

"How come you never ask Danny to get up?" The boy complained.

"Because I don't stare at his girlfriend's coin slot." Danny sassed back. Jackson practically shoved the boy off the chair and sat down himself. Y/n grimaced at the new addition to the table. "So I hear they're saying it's some type of animal attack. Probably a cougar."

"I heard mountain lion." Jackson said.

"A cougar is a mountain lion." Lydia smartly corrected. Jackson gave her a weird look and she smoothly backpedaled into an unsure look. "Isn't it?" Y/n raised her brow at Lydia's act, shaking her head with a small huffed laugh.

"Who cares? The guy's probably some homeless tweaker who's gonna die anyway."

"Literally no one asked for your thoughts on that, Jack-ass." Y/n glared at Jackson who returned the gesture, but before he could retort Stiles piped up.

"Actually, I just found out who it is. Check it out." He held out his phone so everyone could see the news report being played.

"The Sheriff's department won't speculate on details of the incident but confirmed the victim, Garrison Meyers, did survive the attack. Meyers was taken to a local hospital where he remains in critical condition."

"I know this guy." Scott realized.

"You do?" Allison asked.

"Yeah, when I used to take the bus, back when I lived with my dad. He was the driver." Scott, Stiles and Y/n were slightly stunned by this revelation but it didn't really mean much to anyone else.

"Can we talk about something slightly more fun, please?" Lydia asked. "Like, oh, where are we going tomorrow night?" Allison looked at Lydia, chewing her food in a surprised manner. "You said you and Scott were hanging out tomorrow night, right?"

Scott looked at Allison and she swallowed. "Um, we were thinking of what we were gonna do."

"Well, I am not sitting at home again watching lacrosse videos, so if the four of us are hanging out, we are doing something fun. Y/n, are you coming?"

The h/c raised her brows at Lydia. "Uh, no, I'm not. There'll be enough estrogen with you, Allison, and Jackson there so I'm good." Lydia playfully glared at her while Jackson rolled his eyes.

"Hanging out?" Scott questioned and Allison looked like a fish out of water. "Like, the four of us?" Stiles put a hand over his mouth and squeezed his eyes shut to block out the horror going on. Scott looked at Allison again. "Do you wanna hang out, like us and them?"

"Yeah, I guess. Sounds fun." Y/n watched this exchange in utter amusement, sipping on her drink to hide her grin.

"You know what else sounds fun?" Jackson asked and picked up a fork. "Stabbing myself in the face with this fork." Stiles rolled his eyes as he drank some of his water.

"That does sound fun! Let me do the honors for you." Y/n brandished her own fork with a sickly sweet smile.

Lydia reached over and snatched both of their utensils. Then she gasped. "How 'bout bowling? You love to bowl." Lydia looked at Jackson. Stiles munched on a fry and desperately tried to signal to Scott with his eyes to get out of this situation.

"Yeah, with actual competition."

"How do you know we're not actual competition?" Allison challenged. "You can bowl, right?" She asked Scott.

"Sort of." He replied not-so convincingly.

"Is it sort of, or yes?" Jackson dogged down Scott.

"Yes." This time Scott sounded more sure. "In fact, I'm a great bowler."

"You're a terrible bowler." Y/n laughed as she and Stiles followed Scott through the halls.

"I know! I'm such an idiot."

"God, it was like watching a car wreck." Stiles observed. "I mean, first it turned into the whole group date thing. And then out of nowhere comes that phrase." Stiles gripped his head in remorse at the dreaded phrase.

"Hang out."

"You don't hang out with hot girls, okay? It's like death."

"You guys hang out with me. Am I not as pretty as Allison?"

"No." She raised a brow at Stiles like you really just, and he quickly backpedaled. "That- that's not what I mean. It's different with you."

"How?"

"It just is." She scoffed and rolled her eyes, picking up her pace because now she has to go to the Clinic with Scott today because Stiles kept her from it the other day.

Stiles turned back to Scott. "But once it's hanging out, you might as well be her gay best friend. You and Danny can start hanging out."

"How is this happening? I either killed a guy or I didn't."

"I don't think Danny likes me very much." The two boys now having very different conversations.

"I ask Allison on a date, and now we're hanging out."

"Am I not attractive to gay guys?"

"I make first line, and the Team Captain wants to destroy me, and now-" Scott looks at the time on his phone, "now I'm gonna be late for work." Scott caught up with Y/n as they left the school.

"Wait, Scott, you didn't- am I attractive to gay guy-" he tried yelling out but stopped himself, "you didn't answer my question." He muttered and walked the other way.

...

"Don't worry, Scott. It's just a couple minutes." Y/n assured as she and Scott dismounted their bikes outside the Animal Clinic. Scott rushed in while Y/n went at a normal pace.

"Sorry. Sorry." She heard Scott say once he got to the back room.

"You're all of two minutes late." Alan said.

"Told you." Y/n smiled once she also got into the back room.

"I just don't want you to think I'm slacking." Scott explained.

"Scott, I guarantee you, you're one of the least slacking kids in this town." Scott smiled.

"I hope I'm one of the others?" Y/n looked at Alan.

"Of course. When you actually make it in, that is." He joked.

"I said I was sorry for the other day! I can't help Stiles dragging me this way and that." Y/n helped move a box around and Scott smiled at the exchange, but it faded when he saw the Sheriff at the door. He became anxious until the door opened and he saw one of the K-9 police dogs with him. Y/n looked over at the noise and instantly went into doggy voice mode. "Hi there, buddy. Are you ready to get your stitches out? Huh?" She kneeled down to the German Shepherd and petted his fur. "Hiya, Sheriff." Her voice was normal when talking to the humans.

"Hi, Y/n. Hey there, Scott. You staying out of trouble?"

"Yeah." Scott said simply. Alan helped Y/n lift the dog onto the exam table. He whimpers as his bandaged front leg is moved but settles down onto the metal surface.

"Oh, you're such a trooper." Y/n cooed and stroked the dog's fur to calm him more.

"Hey, listen, while I'm here, you mind taking a look at those pictures I was telling you about? Sacramento still can't determine an animal." Noah handed an evidence envelope to Alan.

"I'm not exactly an expert." Alan pulled out the photos and looked at them. "This is the guy who was attacked in the bus?" Scott's head picked up at this and Y/n glanced at him.

"Yeah. And we found wolf hairs on Laura Hale's body."

"A wolf?" Scott asked. "I mean, I think I read somewhere that wolves haven't been in California for, like, 60 years."

"True enough, but wolves are highly migratory. They could have wandered in from another state driven by impulse or strong enough memory."

"Wolves have memories?"

"Long-term ones, yeah." Y/n informed.

"If associated with a primal drive." Alan added. "See this one here?" Alan showed a picture to Noah.

"Yeah."

"Those are claw marks. A wolf would have gone for the throat or the spinal cord with it's teeth." He curled his fingers in front of his neck for demonstration.

"So what do you think, it's a mountain lion?"

"I don't know. A wolf could chase down it's prey, hobbling it by tearing at the ankles. And then the throat."

...

In the evening it was only Y/n and Alan left in the Clinic. They had finished closing up and they now stood in the back room, Y/n had just told Alan about Scott's 'dream'. "And the weirdest part is I had a dream too. I can't remember what it was but I remember red eyes. And I think I heard howling, but I'm not sure."

"You think it was the Alpha that attacked that man?" Alan asked.

"Yes. Scott isn't like that, he wouldn't attack someone like that. But the Alpha... I feel like he definitely would. And the eyes... It's not a coincidence."

"He must have at least been there to have a dream or memory like that."

"He can't remember. If I wasn't hiding I could try and help him remember but..." Her brows furrow and she frowns.

"It's okay. You're not ready to share who you are and that's perfectly understandable considering your past."

Before she can respond she gets a message from Stiles saying that he was picking her up with Scott. "Looks like I'm going out." She sighs as she puts her phone away and gathers her things.

"I know you're capable, but just be careful, all right?"

She gave him a smile. "Always." She gives him a hug before they part ways, him going home and her waiting for Stiles. Once they arrive she hops in the back and they fill her in on where they're going. Derek had told Scott to go back to the bus and let his senses remember for him.

Stiles pulls up near the closed fence of the school. The three get out, Y/n leaning against the front of the Jeep while the boys walk off. "Hey, no, just me." Scott said to Stiles. "Someone needs to keep watch."

"Y/n's doing that."

"Stiles."

"How come I'm always the guy keeping watch?"

"Because there's only three of us and the more eyes watching out, the better."

"Okay, why's it starting to feel like you're Batman and I'm Robin? I don't want to be Robin all the time."

"Nobody's Batman and Robin any of the time."

"Not even some of the time?"

"Just stay here."

"Oh, my God!" Stiles groaned and trudged back to the Jeep. He gets into the driver's side and she gets back into the back.

"What's wrong, Stilinski? You don't like keeping an eye out with me?"

"No, I just don't want to be on the side lines." He pouted.

"You're not. This is just... This is something he needs to do alone. He needs to be absolutely focused on his senses so he can remember." They lapse into silence for a while, watching Scott's figure inside the bus as a light rain started. She glances over at Stiles after a minute and noticed he was still pouting. "Don't pout." She chucked him under the chin. "You're too cute to pout." She smiled and winked. His eyes slightly widened at her actions, and before he can even think of responding lights caught their attention, drawing their eyes away from each other and towards the bus. "Crap." She reached over and started honking to get Scott's attention.

Scott scrambled out of the bus and clambered on top of a red car, somersaulting over the fence. "Come on, come on." Stiles urged as Scott hurried into the Jeep.

"Go! Go! Go! Go!" He yelled and Stiles peeled away from the school.

"Did it work? Did you remember?" Stiles asked frantically.

"Yeah, I was there last night. And the blood- a lot of it was mine."

"So you did attack him?"

"No. I saw glowing eyes in the bus, but they weren't mine. It was Derek."

Y/n perked up at this. "What color were the eyes?"

"Why does that matter?"

"What about the driver?" Stiles cut in.

"I think I was actually trying to protect him."

"Why would Derek help you remember that he attacked the driver?" Y/n tried to reason.

Scott sighed. "That's what I don't get."

"It's got to be a pack thing." Stiles theorized.

"What do you mean?"

"Like an initiation. You do the kill together."

"Because ripping someone's throat out is a real bonding experience?"

"Could be, who knows? But the point is you didn't do it, which means you're not a killer!" Y/n gave him a smile.

"And it also means that-" Scott cut Stiles off.

"I can go out with Allison." Scott smiles with relief.

"I was gonna say it means you won't kill us." Stiles gestured to himself and Y/n.

"Oh, yeah. That too."

...

Y/n sits in the corner of her room, the corner she has dedicated purely to art. Not many people would guess but Y/n loves to paint. Granted she doesn't do it that often but when she does it's either because she had muse to or because she just needs to get her thoughts and feelings out and a great way to do that is through art. When she's in these moods it usually takes a lot to drag her away from her easel.

With everything going on lately she definitely needed a night to use her favorite outlet. She set up a large-ish canvas, about 18" by 26", on her easel and set her paints on a black card table, speckled with paint from previous works. She has a tall Mason jar filled with water and paper towels to dry and clean her brushes. She ties her hair up, rolls up her sleeves, turns up her music, and gets to work. She goes into a type of trance, the kind where you're so focused on what you're doing the outside world is faded and you don't even really notice what you're doing either. She lays a foundation of black, scarring the inky surface with angry reds and blazing oranges. She pours everything she's been feeling lately into this piece. Her frustrations, her fears, her worries, her nightmares. Everything.

She finally takes a break after a while when her phone starts to ring. She glanced at it and saw it was Lydia. She sighs and puts the brush into the cloudy water, turning down the music before answering. "Hey, Lydie."

"Hey, N/n."

"What's up?" She sat on her bed.

"Oh, nothing. I'm just with Allison getting ready to go out. Are you sure you don't want to come? It'll be fuuun." She added in a sing-song voice.

"I'm sure it will, but as much as I love being a pain in Jackson's ass, I don't really feel like being the fifth wheel tonight."

"Aw, boo." Y/n could practically see Lydia's playful pout now and smiled. "Alright, well if I can't convince you I'll let you go to do whatever weird things you like to do."

"Why, how gracious of you!"

Lydia sighed. "I know. You're so lucky to have me as a friend."

The two laughed. "I sure am. Bye, Lydia. Say hi to Allison for me."

"Will do. Toodles." Y/n laughed to herself again as she hung up with the red head. She set her phone aside and turned her music back up to finish her painting. It would be another few hours before she decided she was done. She put the brush in the jar and stepped back to really see what she had painted.

A black sky was dotted with glowing embers that rose from a raging fire that was taller than a man. A pile of wood was set ablaze and in the middle a woman was tied to a stake. Face tilted to the sky, hair flying upwards from the heat of the flames and slightly obscuring her features. Her eyes are specks of amethyst in the ruby inferno. Her flowing white dress is billowing and charred at the ends. Behind the fire, barely hidden by the flames, are a pair of red eyes, glinting sinisterly in the firelight. The edges of everything were a bit blurred, giving the whole picture a dreamy haze.

She jumped slightly when her phone went off, but this time it was a text from Stiles.

The bus driver succumbed to his injuries.

She frowned at the news and glanced back at the painting, the scarlet orbs holding an extra layer of blood in their depths.

Ch.04

[mrpuzzlessimp420]

Mario Simulator (Joke Fic)

Chapter 4

Warnings: Attempted Murder/Murder, Brainwashing, Kidnapping

Ships: Marware, BatteryAcid (Mr Puzzles x Orange Juice)

Tomorrow is another day,

and the day after that is another day, and the day after that is another day, and the day after that is another day.

SMG3 repeated this to himself as the days went by, trying to real himself out of going insane, but it only further contributed to his insanity.

What started as a couple of failures of plans led to thousands, no billions. Why was he even doing this in the first place? He honestly couldn't ever remember due to how long it had been since that fateful kidnapping and blackmailing.

At some point, they tried matchmaking Orange Juice to someone else but unlucky to them, they chose that Box Club Leader which did not end up well. He still had nightmares from that piece of cardboard sealed in a jar of orange juice. That club leader was a freak... and not in a good way.

They also tried framing the object head for theft but turns out trying to find the correct bag to place it in in a flood of the same black bags was extremely difficult and they ended up getting Boopkins suspended for it. Eh, he was annoying anyway.

He glanced over to his partner in crime, who was violently stabbing a photograph of Orange Juice, his face getting more and more deranged and ecstatic. The bed underneath him was scarred due to the slashes and stabbing.

They were in SMG3's bedroom right now, which acted as their plotting room as they couldn't risk going in the broom closet in fear of being caught.

He sighed, he hoped this would have ended by now. There wasn't much else to try to plan except...

"Hey, Mario?" Mario turned to face SMG3, his face quickly changing from murderous to curious. "What if we try brainwashing?"

"Oooh that sounds very good! But how would we be able to do that?" Mario asked, using his singular brain cell for once.

"Hmmm... I think I have just the thing..." SMG3 said, searching his bedroom until he found a singular remote.

"The YouTube Remote?" Mario asked, tilting his head.

"No, you silly, it's a different remote. I bought it on the black market once. I think the seller called it the "Edit" remote or something like that, I don't know the seller was extremely sketchy and I couldn't even see their face." SMG3 explained, showing off the object in his hand which was black with yellow accents.

"It can basically edit things so I can presume it can overwrite people's memories". He tossed the remote in the air, trying to act cool but missed catching it, leading to it falling on the ground. Luckily, it didn't break.

"Can I use it, pretty please? I swear I won't mess up!" Mario battered his long eyelashes as he went into puppy eye mode.

"Fine. But only after I explain to you how we're going to do it." SMG3 stated, picking up the remote once again and dusting it off.

"Okie dokie!" Mario said, his face excited as he hoped this plan would actually work this time.

"First of all, since it's the whole school assembly tomorrow we'll hack into the school computers and create a live stream of you using the remote and saying what you will overwrite. After that, we will stop the live stream and erase all evidence that we hacked into the school system!"

"Before that, we'll lock Orange Juice somewhere so he can't go to assembly so he can feel so much pain when he finds out everyone hates him"

"And after that, I finally get to be with my true love!" Mario added on, dreaming of his future.

"Yup, and I don't have to do this anymore." SMG3 sighed, grateful that this might end soon

"Thank you so much S-M-G-3!! I wouldn't have done it without you!!" Mario exclaimed, hugging SMG3 a bit too tightly as SMG3 felt his bones crack inside of him.

"Yeah, you wouldn't have" SMG3 patted Mario's head as he ignored how much pain he was in right now.

"All we need to do now is wait for tomorrow," SMG3 said as he lay on his bed, Mario still stuck to him as he felt himself fall into a soft slumber.

The sun beamed on Mario and the Mario recolour as the day approached forward. With both of them waking up shortly after, SMG3 ran down the plan to Mario again, knowing that he probably forgot again.

After they both got ready for the day, they rushed out to the school entrance, earlier than usual as they needed the time to get this done right. They could not deal with another failure.

The first step was getting Orange Juice locked somewhere. The best choice was the Broom Closet as it was soundproof so he couldn't scream for help. Not many students were in the school right now which helped with not getting caught and one of those students was Orange Juice himself as he liked helping get the teachers ready for the school day.

What a goody-two-shoes, Mario thought as he walked in the direction of the object head in question who was right now talking to one of the science teachers, Dr Robotnik. Or was it Dr Eggman? Mario could never remember any of the teachers' names, let alone this one.

"Excuse me Orange Juice," Mario said, butting into the two's conversation, putting on his best innocent act. "I was told by one of the maths teachers that you were needed in her classroom to help out away new supplies with her."

"Oh really? Well, why don't you show me the way? Sorry about this Dr Robotnik, I need to deal with this first" Orange Juice politely said, his charisma and charm leaking out of him like a disgusting pest. He disgusted Mario with how nice and kind he was. As if he was perfect.

Mario, still having his act of sweet innocence on, led the object-headed teenager to his doom, the broom closet. The door was already open and all he needed to do was to push Orange Juice in and lock the door with the only keys it had.

"I don't remember the Broom Closet being open at this tim-" Before Orange Juice could finish his sentence, Mario shoved him in and locked the door quickly before he skipped off to find where SMG3 was.

The second step was hacking into the school computers which SMG3 had already done by the time Mario had found where he was, in the empty classroom Meggy was forced to be in during her Catering classes.

Now all they had to do was wait for assembly.

30 minutes had passed and assembly had just started. SMG3 pressed the record button and Mario got in place ready to say his lines. The spaghetti-loving man pressed the overwrite button on the remote before anyone could do anything about the hacking attack.

"Orange Juice is a horrible horrible person. He has cheated on Mr Puzzles countless of times and kicks puppies for fun. He enjoys content farms and has made several in the past. He also doesn't like Chappell Roan which is very homophobic of him."

The live stream then quickly ended as SMG3 erased any evidence of them tapering with the school system.

They both hoped this worked as if it didn't, they would be in so much trouble.

It has worked. Everyone hated Orange Juice. He was the talk of the school gossip. Mr Puzzles, dramatically broke up with the object head as he cursed the ever-living shit out of the confused man.

But Mario wasn't finished. No. Sure, he could just be with Mr Puzzles now but that wasn't enough for him. He needed to kill that disgusting glass of orange juice and show him that he should have never messed with the Mario. Ever.

So he waited until the day was over and everyone had gone home, even the teachers. Expect for Orange Juice who was in detention for the entire day, even the night.

Freshly sharpened knife in hand, he walked in a stalker-like motion to the door of the detention room. His prey sitting nervously at a lone desk.

His heart beat loudly as he slowly turned the handle of the door, knife behind his back.

"Hello Orange Juice~" Mario said sinisterly, which actually did sound sinister for once as the writer could afford a voice actor. Though since it's in text, you can't tell.

"Oh uh hi? Um, is my detention over?" The teenager asked, looking as if this was his first experience of detention ever.

"Hmm... I'm not sure..." Mario stated, his free hand pointing to his cheek. "Your life sure will be soon" He revealed the knife from his back, his free hand stroking it masochistically.

"W-What?" Orange Juice said, startled and afraid as Mario walked slowly closer to him, menacingly.

"G-get away from me you... You psycho!" The object-headed teenager exclaimed as he pushed the table in front of him to the ground in an attempt to distract Mario and ran towards the door of the detention room and into the halls.

"Oh how I love the ones that run, they give such a thrilling chase..." Mario stated lovingly, as he started stalking the halls, waiting until Orange Juice had run out of energy or into a dead end so he could do the final blow.

Orange Juice ran, ran for his life. His day was not going great so far, to say the least. Firstly he was locked into a broom closet, then everyone started hating him for no reason and he got detention. Now he's getting chased by a sociopath. What's next? Is he going to get indoctrinated into a cult? Wouldn't surprise him at this point!

He turned the corner, his breath rapid and uneven. He had to find an exit. Why was this school so big? It was like hell trying to find a decent exit at this rate.

He suddenly tripped on a shard of glass while running, what would be his left cheek shattered as he fell. Glitch, now he was losing blood? This was not a good time to do so! Especially since that rapid animal is chasing after him.

Picking himself up quickly, he ran and ran, his left hand stopping the orange juice from spilling onto the floor any longer.

Back to Mario, he was drooling like a dog with rabies, his excitement and anger increasing by the second as he searched and searched for that man stealing man.

He dug his knife into the walls of the building, the scratchiness making him feel even more alive. By the Glitch Productions above, this made him feel so much more alive than ever before. The adrenaline, the prey versus hunter mentality, the chase. It felt all so good.

After so long, Mario finally caught up to Orange Juice who had locked himself into a corner with nowhere to run to.

"Looks like the mouse has nowhere to go? Hm?" He asked, his knife glistening in the singular light illuminating this area.

"What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?" Orange Juice's voice was full of panic and prey instincts.

"You don't know? How naïve.." He pushed Orange Juice further into the corner, knife pointing to the throat of the fellow teenager whose breath hitched at the action.

"Maybe I'll be your saint this time and tell you myself." The knife dug into the object-head's throat slightly, the sour blood peeking itself through and onto the floor.

Mario kicked Orange Juice into the wall, his foot firmly planted and keeping the teenager in place. While doing this he took his knife away from the other's throat and grabbed both of his hands on it.

"This wouldn't have ended this way if you had never stepped in the way of me being with my one true love, Mr Puzzles"

He made a downward motion with the knife towards Orange Juice's heart and...

KILL HIM [SUCCESS]

KILL HIM [FAILURE]

KILL HIM [SUCCESS?]

[callmejudgement]

Judgment’s Detailed Experience #1

Ft. Method at the end, lucid dreaming, advice

5/3/2023

When I woke up this morning, I was slightly disappointed because I hadn’t shifted. I intended to shift right upon my mind waking up, without moving a single muscle. However, I had already tossed and turned a few times and felt defeated.

So, I decided to do I little mental exercise instead. I imagined standing on a beach with my feet in shallow water. I imagined looking out to the horizon, and then I laid down on my stomach in the water. At first, I couldn't see anything. I just acted as if I was on a beach.

At this point I could actually see everything clearly. It was not like a daydream at all. I focused so intently on the sand. I picked it up and felt the roughness of the rather large grains. Some were pink, other grains white or yellow. The water was a beautiful crystal blue that shimmered in the sun.

It was a beautiful beach. As I examined the sand, I noticed a few pink flower petals a few feet in front of me. I reached out and grabbed them before the waves swept them away.

Lastly, I scooped some of the water into my mouth and tasted the saltiness of the sea. By now, you probably think that I have shifted, so let me be clear that this was only a dream.

I was not lucid, my dream self only acted with the intention of firmly visualizing a beach that I set upon falling back asleep.

After tasting the seawater, I looked to my right, at the ocean, and noticed a large wave. It was at least 3 stories high and I got scared and ran off the beach. My mind lost focus and I lost the intention of visualizing the beach in favor of my safety.

I spent the rest of the dream in my regular dream daze, doing random junk. However, had I continued to visualize the beach and affirmed that I was safe, that I have shifted, and that I was in my waiting room; what do you think would have happened?

I expect that the dream suddenly would not have been a dream anymore. I would have stood on a very real beach where I could think clearly and be guided by more than a single intention.

The Morning Dream Method

Upon waking (it’s ok if you move your body), go back to sleep. As you are falling asleep, visualize a simple scene (beach, grassy field, snowy forest). At the start, you probably won’t see anything. It will be just a concept in your mind that you are dedicating yourself to exploring. Feel the grass on your feet, or sink yourself into a pile of fluffy snow. Since you just woke up, it should take only a few minutes for you to fall back asleep (if you feel like it is taking too long, just know that it will happen tomorrow and get up). Once the dream becomes clear, begin affirming that you are already in your dr (or wr. Whatever you want to call it).

Example affirmations:

This is my dr. I’m in my dr.

I have complete control because this is my wr.

I am fully conscious and aware because I have shifted.

Everything I am experiencing right now is real.

I will remain here as long as want.

Do not doubt if it is possible. Just know that everything has become real. These affirmations serve to remind you of what you already have achieved. Once you feel in control, do at least 3 reality checks. Why 3? Just to be safe and ansolute! So when you shift back, you are sure it was no longer a dream because not one, not two, but three checks failed.

Reality checks:

Stick your fingers through the palm of your other hand. If they pass through, you are dreaming.

Cover your nose, if you can still breathe, you are dreaming.

Look at your hands. Do you have 5 normal-looking fingers on each one? If not, you are dreaming.

Honestly, these are the only ones I recommend doing because you may have greater powers in your dr or wr that compromise the accuracy of other reality checks. For example, some people use flying or changing the environment as a check. But what if you can fly in your dr? What if you have the power to control your wr at will (I know that I do)? If these do not apply to you, then you can try them; however, in my 6 years of lucid dreaming, I found those three to be the easiest and most accurate as they only require yourself.

That’s all!

Happy shifting,

Judgement.

[nancypullen]

I Lied.

I didn’t mean to, and you’d think that after blogging here for sixteen years I’d know better than to say “back tomorrow!”.  That’s just asking for life to get in the way of what you’d rather be doing, right?  So life got busy, but in good ways, and now I’m back a couple days later than promised.  Oops. Since the last post we’ve celebrated Father’s Day and this guy was king for a day.

I thanked him for the two babies that look just like him and we all pitched in and gave him a kayak.  He enjoys drifting down questionable waterways (think bugs and snakes) and took it out that very afternoon.

There has been no word on the Federalsburg python, so I request proof of life photos when he’s out.  The spots where he’s paddling look like python paradise.  No thank you.

The night before Father’s Day we’d gathered to celebrate with the Edgewater gang.  I have to say that Tyler is the finest father I’ve ever seen.  Patient, kind, fun, devoted -  he’s the daddy that every little girl deserves.  I think our Little Miss knows that she’s got the best daddy in the world.  She brought this home from school.

Okay, okay, before I get too emotional, let’s move on.  I thought it was funny when I asked Mickey what he’d like for a special meal on Sunday. He started pondering, then he asked for beef bulgogi with (insert dreamy look and emphasis) “real rice”.  Poor guy, I use cauliflower rice in our taco bowls, our lettuce wraps, pretty much anything that involves rice.  I strive to make our meals mostly veggie, with lean proteins.  I’m trying to keep him alive and he’s dreaming of “real rice”.  I laughed and promised him whatever he wanted.  He eventually decided he’d rather have steaks on the grill, a baked potato, and some roasted green beans.  Talk about a man’s meal! We rarely eat red meat so I figured one day wouldn’t kill him.  I even baked an angel food cake and sliced up some enormous fresh strawberries to top it.  By sundown I felt like I never wanted to eat again. BUT...the blog post that I promised a few days ago was about recipes, so here we go. It’s summer and no one wants to spend a ton of time in the kitchen. Both of these recipes are a one pan, thirty minutes (ish) meal. They both offer big flavor and minimal clean up. What more do you want?  Sadly, I failed to take a decent amount of pics while preparing these, so you may have to use your imagination a bit.  I normally like to show the process, but since these are quick and easy - no harm done, right?

First, Sheet Pan Chicken Fajitas. This honestly couldn’t be easier.

Preheat your oven to 425 and grab some bright peppers and an onion.  I used a red, a yellow, and an orange pepper, and I had a Vidalia onion handy. Slice those up.

Next you’ll need about 1.5 pounds of chicken.  I used chicken breast.  Slice that up as well. Now you could just toss all of this onto the sheet pan, but I put my chicken in a bowl and mixed it with 3 tablespoons of taco seasoning (that’s equal to one packet).

Coat it really well, you want that flavor!  Now spread your sliced veggies on the sheet pan (if you’re not using parchment paper or a silicone mat, lightly oil that sheet pan!) and throw your chicken right on top.

At this point I sprinkled more taco seasoning on the whole thing.  I also added some minced garlic.  I just use the stuff in a jar, I’d say I used the equivalent to two cloves. That’s it. Pop that into your hot oven for 15-20 minutes.  While it’s cooking wrap some flour tortillas (you didn’t think I was going to make tortillas, did you??) in foil and slide them into the oven for the last five minutes of your cooking time. EASY PEASEY. When you remove your yummy fajita filling from the oven you could squirt it with lime juice and sprinkle chopped cilantro over it (I didn’t have limes or cilantro handy, but I will the next time!)  It really is the perfect finish.  Fill your tortillas, top them with whatever you like - sour cream, cheese, pico de gallo, etc.  Do it your way.  Any way you tweak it, you’re still out of the kitchen in a half hour.   Next, we have Eggroll In a Bowl.  I’d seen this recipe all over Pinterest on Keto boards, Weight Watchers boards, and Quick & Easy boards.  Those are all tempting to me. It’s basically eggroll filling without the crisp and tasty wrapper.  I looked at several versions and then took an inventory of what I had on hand, and did it the easy way.  I’m a fan of easy.  For example, if a recipe calls for grated ginger, I have a tube of ginger paste in the frig that packs the same punch.  Minced garlic? I’ve got a jar in the frig.  You get it. This recipe also called for ground pork (more common for eggrolls) but I used ground turkey and it was delicious.  Here we go.  You’ll need: 1 lb ground turkey 1 sweet onion, diced 1 Tbsp sesame oil 1 Tbsp rice vinegar 2 tsp minced fresh garlic (I used my jar) 1 tsp ground ginger (I used my paste) 1/4 cup low sodium soy sauce 1 16oz bag dry coleslaw mix (shredded cabbage and carrots) 1 Tbsp Hoisin sauce  2 green onions, thinly sliced You’ll start by browning your ground meat in a large skillet over med-high heat. Once the pink is gone, toss in your diced onion, the sesame oil, and the rice vinegar.  The sesame oil is what will give your dish that wonderful, nutty, uniquely Asian flavor. Cook that, stirring, until the onion is tender.  Add the garlic, ginger, soy sauce, hoisin, and the coleslaw to the skillet.

Then just cook for another 5 to 7 minutes until the cabbage is wilted. THAT’S IT.

When it’s ready, you can top with sliced green onions, even a sprinkle of sesame seeds if you’re so inclined. It’s so yummy!  I wasn’t sure if the mister would be a fan and he loved it.  I failed to take a photo after plating it, but here’s a picture from one of the bazillion Pinterest recipes.  

By using the prepared ingredients like I did, the ginger paste, the pre-minced garlic, this dinner comes together fast. Like twenty minutes. I measure my ingredients out before I start and just toss them in as needed and this is a snap. I think the next time I make it I’ll add some extra matchstick carrots. I think it could use more. But it’s still delicious, and so quick and easy. Serve either of these quick dinners with some cool summer melon chunks and that’s a complete meal. Last, but not least, have you tried chili crisps yet? I’m addicted.  I use them on just about everything, but my favorite way to use them is to start my day with a bang.  Scrambled eggs, avocado toast, whatever - add some chili crisp and take it to the next level.   This is the brand I use.

I buy mild because I’m not trying to start a fire, just enjoy a little zip.  Here’s the Mr. Bing description of their chili crisp.

I don’t care if they say it’s made with goat toenails and tree bark, it’s delicious. This was my brunch a couple of days ago.  One slice of grainy bread, smashed avocado mixed with a shake of Everything Bagel seasoning, a poached egg, and plenty of chili crisp.

I get hungry just looking at those photos. It’s so tasty! As I was grabbing those pics off my phone I giggled when I saw this one.

That’s just a taco bowl, but there’s that cauliflower rice that apparently makes Mickey feel deprived. It’s one of my favorite things to eat!  Guess I could start making a little bowl of “real rice” for him.  Or he could adapt.  Poor guy.   Another funny capture by the Ring doorbell.  I made him stand on the porch so I could snap a pic of him on Father’s Day.  We look like a couple old farts. But there he is, just doing as I asked. He knew resistance was futile. 

The camera in that doorbell has a sort of fisheye effect and warps things.  Or maybe I do have a giant left arm. Anywho, that’s what’s been shaking around here. I won’t promise to be here tomorrow, but I will try to be.  I’ve got a couple of fun things to share and I need to sort through pictures.  I’ve been working on a couple of cards too, trying to build an inventory.  Here’s one of the latest, I haven’t placed her on a card yet

Isn’t she a hoot?  I’ve found a wonderful new resource for my dead people, loads and loads of photos, so I’m having fun picking out winners. I predict long, enjoyable hours spent with my deceased friends.  I give them back stories while I work with them.  That’s Darla.  She’s from Philly, she’s got a heart of gold but runs the deli counter at Wegman’s with an iron fist. Don’t tell her how to slice the meat. She’s a bowling champ and met her second husband, Eddie, at a charity bowling tournament that raised money for at-risk donkeys. Some donkeys never adapt to farm life and Darla thinks they should be able to pursue their dreams. What? Too much time on my hands? Me? Probably.

I’ll see you soon. Until then, stay safe, stay well, follow your dreams. XOXO - Nancy

[kate-les-bridge-stewart]

Ok so today has been extremely rough for me so I wanted to vent a little by writing a short fanfic. Also warning that this will likely be horribly written and nonsensical. I'm normally pretty good at writing but right now I dont have the energy to put tons of effort into this, I just wanna make something to comfort myself without stressing out over how other people will perceive it.

For context this will basically be a kidfic with the kid in question being an oc. They're name is Nym, they're an alien that 13 and yaz adopted as a baby. Their age is roughly around 12 to 13 but they speak weirdly for reasons that I dont feel like explaining (mostly for the above mentioned lack of energy). For the sake of imagery they look like a small centaur version of those horse zebra things from avatar (the blue people movie).

TW: suicidal thoughts

~~~

The doctor was laying under the console tinkering with some wires, her hair tied back in a messy ponytail and a pair of pliers clutched in her teeth. Her ears perked up at the familiar sound of tiny hooves clicking against the floor towards her. She rolled out from under the console and moved her goggles to her forehead to greet the tiny blue alien she knew and loved.

"Hello there Nym! Been a while since I've-" her sentence was abruptly stopped when she noticed a visible frown on her child's face. Her tone rapidly shifted to concern as she shot upright, tossing her goggles and tools to the side and crouching in front of Nym.

"What's the matter sweetie? You look upset," she said as she went to cup the child's cheek and rest her other hand on their shoulder.

Nym was startled at her sudden concern, not being used to someone being so eager to help them.

"I-I... I dont... I dont know... I just suddenly started feeling really sad... there were all these scary thoughts in my head and i couldnt make them stop..."

"Do you think you could tell me what some of them were?" The doctor grew more concerned at the prospect of what these scary thoughts could be. She knew Nym had a very traumatic past, a life full of events which nobody, let alone a young child, should ever have to go through.

"I... I was thinking.... what would happen if I suddenly died tomorrow? What would I do if I knew I was gonna die? Would anybody care? Am I just looking for attention? What's even the point of living if I'm just gonna be miserable all the time?! Why am I alive?!" They grew progressively louder as tears began pouring down their face.

The doctor quickly pulled them into a tight hug which they clumsily reciprocated, grasping and clinging to the doctor as if they were being pulled away by some invisible, evil force.

"Why does it hurt?! Why?! Why mama?! Why wont it stop?! Why can't I control my thoughts?!!"

The doctor was shocked, disturbed by the shocking nature of these intrusions. She felt like they were some cruel being trying to hurt her baby and that filled her with a million unfathomable emotions. Despite her rage at these cruel thoughts torturing her sweetheart she prioritized soothing their pain first and foremost.

"Hush hush, shhh... easy now..." she tried to gently put a stop to Nym's intrusive stream of consciousness, rubbing their back and tucking their face into her chest.

"I know it's hard, I know. I know how your own thoughts can be so cruel to you. Just listen," she suddenly got an idea. "Look around the tardis, what colors do you see?"

Nym hesitated for a moment, trying to blink away the tears that had blurred their vision and clear their throat. "Um... blue..?"

"You're right theres blue, a lot of it too. What else?" The doctor said gently as she stroked Nym's hair, still pressing their head to her chest.

"Orange... and yellow... and some red.. why are you doing this?" They asked softly as they looked up at the doctor's face.

"I'm using a technique called 'grounding.' Its where you distract yourself from your thoughts by observing and focusing on your environment or something else. I find it helps me a lot when I feel the way you do. I also like doing math problems in my head but I dont think youd like that." She tried to lighten the mood slightly. "Do you think its helping?"

Nym thought for a moment. "Well, I feel a little better... I feel too tired to think now..." they tucked their face back into the doctor's chest.

"That's ok sweetheart, you dont need to keep going. Just try to focus on me. Listen to my hearts. Try to focus on something to keep your mind distracted. I'll stay with you as long as you need."

She shifted their position so they were more comfortable. The doctor now sat on the floor with Nym cuddled into her, her arms enveloping them as far as they could reach. Nym listened to their mama's advice and pressed their ear to her chest, focusing their attention on the rhythmic thumps of her hearts. With the gentle hum of the tardis they found it incredibly relaxing.

Thump thump thump thump... thump thump thump thump...

The pattern was simple, predictable. In that predictability they found comfort and solace, further soothed by the knowledge that it was the sound of their mother, alive and close, as close as she could possibly be. It was the sound of safety and warmth, love and affection. Though their biology couldnt be more disconnected, she was no less their mother.

~~~

That's all I have the energy to write. Now I'm gonna go hug a pillow while I watch skyrim let's plays to relax after this arduous work day...

[bump1nthen1ght]

Late Night Favor (Shadow Monster x Reader)

Genre: Fluff, Urban Fantasy

Warnings: Explicit content up ahead (18+ ONLY), Oral, Fingering

Word Count: 4000 Words

Summary: A couple of small good deeds leaves you with a late night visitor, looking to repay a debt.

Request: "You unknowingly rescue a shadow monster and bring it home with you, after a couple days of lurking in the shadows of your home and recuperating it shows you just how thankful it is." I had this idea forever ago but was never able to execute it. My opening idea was that a few kids are shining flashlights at something, tormenting it, and you swoop in to save it and chase the kids away. You thought they were hurting a cat or something, but find nothing and head home.

What do you think? Would you like to take it on? I'd be honored if you would 😊

A/N: *Throws this into the street to appease for the fact I haven’t updated Out of the Woods in THREE MONTHS IM SORRY*

It was the perfect weather for a lazy day inside. The pitter patter of the rain on your window had almost lulled you back to sleep during breakfast, and the thunder had provided great ambiance for reading. You hadn’t bothered changing out of your pajamas and we’re enjoying a soap opera binge on the coach when the peace was disturbed.

At first it was just the sound of clattering trash cans, not uncommon from the alley outside your window. But then it was followed by the raucous laughter of teenagers, rocks being thrown against the concrete, and a sharp hissing.

You hoist yourself up and off the couch, meandering toward the balcony, expecting to see a bunch of kids fucking around; Maybe using the cover of the fire escape to hide from the rain and smoke some weed.

Ah, memories.

But instead, you see a huddled group of boys pointing a flashlight into the pile of garbage right by the dumpster. One of them picks up a pebble and throws it into the light beam, causing another hiss and a jerk of movement. The boys laugh even louder, the one on the right nudging the one with the flashlight.

“Dude, do it again!”

Flashlight agrees, quickly moving the light into another corner as the one on the left throws a rock in the opposite direction. A shape of pitch black hisses again, deterred by the rock and scared by the brightness. Your brow furrows.

“Hey!”

The boys jump, looking in all directions.

“What are you three doing down there?” They finally look up at you, messy-haired and bleary-eyed. They shrug and ignore you, one even throwing another rock, bigger than before. There’s a sad yelp as it collides with the blackness.

You grit your teeth, grabbing your jacket off a nearby shelf and yell again.

“Fuck off! Leave the poor thing alone!”

They all laugh insufferably, the way most stuck up teenagers do.

“Or what?”

You shrug on your raincoat, picking up the baseball bat you keep strategically placed by your couch.

“Or I’ll come down and make you, jackass!”

You kick open your  fire escape, slippers already damp, and start marching down the staircases. The boys get the message and run away, still jeering and laughing. Seems you weren’t as intimidating as you’d like.

You shuffle down the fire escape, slowing down as you approach the poor creature. You lower your back and peak under the dumpster.

“It's okay, little guy, I won’t hurt ya.” You set down your bat and crouch, kissing your lips as you hold out your free hand. All you see is a hint of glowing eyes, nervously peering out, before the dark shape disappears completely, hidden by the shadow of the dumpster. You’re tempted to sit down and wait for it, hoping to check if the poor stray was injured, but the wet concrete looks unappealing. The bottom of your sweats are already drenched.

You stand up, sigh, and go back up the fire escape. You unlatch the dusty pet door on your sliding glass balcony and make sure to leave a hot thing of milk and some water just outside. You ponder going out to get cat food, but the well-timed weather report tells you to stay off the streets. Slumping back down on the couch, you keep on eye on your fire escape, hoping that whatever it was, it’s okay.

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

The next day is sunny, the rain clearing away any air pollution and leaving blue skies to shine down through your window, waking you up extra early. As you sit down with a cup of coffee, switching on the news before starting work, you notice the empty bowls on your balcony.

You set down the mug, walking over to the door and checking the bowls. Seems that little stray had needed the refreshment, as both were licked clean.

You refill them, making sure to add  cat food to your grocery list.

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

After a long day of work, you’re feeling particularly domestic and decide to bake some cookies. Your brain is sore after staring at a screen for eight hours straight, a simple task like this is the perfect thing to keep it from melting completely.

You open up your window, letting the cool night air into your kitchen as you check  on your baking cookies. Wiping flour off your pants, you turn on the radio and throw a glance to your living room.

You had set up a tiny blanket pallet right next to your pet door, the weatherman’s warning of another thunderstorm tonight having you worried for your stray. Hopefully a full belly of milk will convince them that your house is safe enough to find shelter in.

But the afternoon is beautiful, not too cold and not too hot, only the slight tang of metal in the air hinting to rain. With a ding from the oven, you take out the cookies and set them on a cooling tray on your window. The smell of cinnamon and sugar wafts over you as you take a sip of your tea, staring out into the city streets. Small puddles still speckle the pavement, catching the headlights of nearby cars and flashy billboards.

A quick sound, something hitting your balcony door, that jerks you out of your reverie. You set down your mug and slowly peek out from your kitchen, wondering if you should’ve grabbed  a kitchen knife. But it’s just your pet door, flapping back and forth in front of two, now empty, bowls. Aww, seems your stray took a step inside. Too bad you missed it.

The gurgle of your stomach convinces you to take a crack at the cookies. If they were too hot, you could just wash them down with a nice glass of milk anyway. Maybe even put on a sitcom while you snack.

You lightly tap the top cookie; Warm, but not unbearable. Steam rises as you break it open, blowing in the middle and taking a tiny bite.

Fuck, good job _____.

They’re perfectly done, just soft enough to melt in your mouth. You grab two more, holding them in between your fingers as you hold the other half in your mouth. Maybe you could bring the batch into work tomorrow, give your coworkers a nice surprise. That is if you didn't have 10 tonight. But 20 should be just enough-

Huh, that’s weird. There's only 19, including the one still dangling out of your mouth.

You could’ve sworn you baked 20.

Well whatever. Your coworkers can handle not coming back for seconds tomorrow.

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

“Ow! Fuck!”

You bite your lip, trying not to yell out more curse words as you rub your stubbed toe. You limp to your kitchen, fumbling for the light switch to avoid another incident. All you had wanted was a midnight sweet snack, was that so difficult? You’d thought you could navigate your apartment pretty easily in the dark, but the pain in your foot says otherwise.

The light flickers as you finally find the switch, reminding you that you’re going to need to change the bulb sometime soon. But that's a problem for another day; Right now, it’s cookie time.

You don’t bother pouring yourself a glass or getting a plate, devouring the treat in three bites and throwing back a quick swig of milk. It’s almost midnight, not like anyone’s watching-

Oh, wait.

You slowly close the fridge door, trying to make as little noise as possible so as not to wake the little stray curled up, asleep. The little ball of black was snuggled into the pallet, tossing and turning. A flash of lightning cracks outside your apartment, washing your living room with light. The ball jerks in shock, the thunder afterwards only frightening it more, forcing it to curl up even tighter.  

You take small and light steps towards the tiny bed, not wanting to approach the scared beast too quickly. The room is lit up again by another lightning strike and the little stray forces it’s body backwards and away from the window. You crouch down real low, the small bits of light helping your eyes adjust to the layout.

“How are you doing, little guy?” You whisper, mostly to yourself, tapping your fingers against your carpet. Part of you wants to pet it, but think it might be better not to. No need to startle it. “Is the lightning scary? You can come to my room if you want, I’ll protect ya.”

Midst the black, you see two little eyes, little blips of light that open with another flash of lightning. But they aren’t yellow, nor are they slitted, nor are they anything remotely animal.

They're like the headlights of a car, blinding white with no definition at all. Not even pupils. You're startled, eye’s widening as the creature lifts it’s head. A long smile runs across their face, full of razor sharp teeth.

“Oh my, that sounds delightful.” They purr, and you find yourself losing your footing and falling back on your ass. Your fingers dig into the carpet as their body slowly begins to unfurl out of a ball and stretch into a massive form, as if their whole size had been hidden away somewhere else; Like it had been literally in the shadows.

You scramble backwards, breath picking up as the creature stretches it’s long limbs, colorless eyes still locked onto you as it stands up and up. It rolls back its shoulders as it sits on its haunches, its form still towering over you even when crouched. You notice the shades of huge antlers sticking out from the side of their head, only adding to their intimidating height.

The creature still has that terrifying smile, all canines and no molars, it’s unblinking eyes still staring deep into your soul.

You’ve heard people do weird things in times of high stress, of strong emotions, good and bad. Like the wires in your brains get crossed when trying to find the right response.

“Uh, do you want a cookie?”

You think you get that now.

The creature chuckles, a soft timbre that echoes unnaturally.

“No, dearie, I have already indulged in your confections. You see,” They creature leans forward, falling to its knees to crawl towards you. If it weren’t for the overwhelming fear constricting your heart, you’d almost think it was seductive, “You’ve done so much for me these past days, I think it’d be only fair if I helped you indulge in a far-” The creature’s face looms over yours, their arms caging your sides as they lick their lips, “-sweeter treat, yes?”

Your eyes search their face, trying to find signs of trickery or malice, maybe even some demonic sense of humor.

As if I’d even know what that looks like.

“Are you-” You catch a breath, now noticing the fine musculature of their shoulders, and the definition of their arms, “Are you propositioning me, like, for sex?”

The creature laughs again, their eyes crinkling up as they throw their head back. But when they look back down at you, you can almost feel the lust radiating off their gaze, details be damned.

“Yes, lovely, I am.”

You take your eyes off their face, a little too overwhelmed to stare directly into their blistering expression. Not to mention the blinding light which has begun to put red spots into your vision.

Instead, your eyes fall upon their thick thighs, the small tail waving behind them, and how unnervingly sexy you find the way their claws are digging up your rug.

You slowly move your head, catching the creature’s eyes.

“I-uh-I guess? Yeah, yeah I guess that sounds good. Um, what was your name?”

The creature smirks, a single claw tipped finger tilting up your chin, as they whisper,

“Nocter.”

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

Well, this is definitely the weirdest way I’ve gotten someone into bed.

Nocter’s antlers brush against your stucco-ceiling as it pushes you down on the bed, their shining white eyes staring deep into yours. Their lack of pupils is almost unsettling, but when they run their claws down your chest and pinch your nipples, you find it hard to care. You bite your lip, fighting back an embarrassing whimper as they trace one finger around the bud, pebbling the skin.

“Aww, has it been a while, sweetling?” You roll your eyes, but let out another squeak as they flick their thumb across your other nipple, the palm of their hand pressing against your ribcage.

“M-maybe.” You mutter, digging your finger into your bed sheets as their hands dance across your skin. One pulls up the bottom of your pajama shirt as it nudges one of their legs in between your thighs, pushing their knee up against your crotch.

“Don’t worry,” They push the fabric up to your neck, laying a kiss on the center of your stomach, then your chest, and then your jugular. When they plant one on your jaw, they lean in real close, “I’ll make sure to treat you right.”

Nocter’s long tongue splays against your jaw, licking a stripe up your cheek as one of their hands moves from your chest to the waistband of your shorts. They slip a couple fingers underneath, lightly petting the area right above your crotch. They’re such a tease, and you love it.

Nocter pecks the side of your face, over and over, while their hand moves further and further down your body at an agonizing pace. Their hot breath sends goosebumps down your neck, washing over your face as they exhale with every kiss. You catch them off guard when you turn your head toward them, catching their lips-mid peck and eagerly sticking your tongue outward. They purr with delight, their thin almost-lips quickly devouring you.

A long string of saliva connects the two of you as you detach, taking the time to shimmy out of your shirt. You pull them closer, your hands digging into their shoulder muscles and fingers just brushing over the long ridges on their back. They chuckle once again, pulling their fingers out your shorts and merely digging their palm into the fabric of your crotch.

“Eager, huh?”

“Shut up,” You mumble in between kisses, “This is for me, isn’t it?”

“Ohoho,” kiss, “Someone’s showing their feisty side a little early.” kiss, “What happened to my benevolent, saintly saviour?” kiss.

You pull away from their lips, quickly latching onto the crux of their neck and taking a nip. “S’not fair.” You say, taking a deep whiff of their skin as you suck and bite. They smell like brimstone and a bonfire, not quite what you 're expecting, but not unpleasant. “You can’t tease me like that and not-” Your cut off as the pad of one Nocters fingers presses up against your entrance, the fabric only amplifying the sensation as they begin to tease it.

“Deliver?” Nocter finishes, sinfully smug. You throw them a glare. “I’m a good guest, scout’s honor.”

You roll your eyes right before they lock you into another kiss, rubbing the pads of their fingers up and down your crotch. They use their hand to push you backwards, sinking deeper into the mattress as they situate their knees under your thighs. One they pull back from the kiss, your face and lips thoroughly debauched, your legs are splayed up on their pelvis and they easily slip off your bottoms. Nocter takes a whiff of your underwear, the crotch now slightly damp, giving you a wink before they throw it over their shoulder.

You jerk your hips slightly upward, and Nocter tuts.

“Patience, sweetling.” They roll a hand down your abdomen, fingers splaying onto your stomach, nails just teasing the skin. With a kiss to your inside calf, Nocters hand ghosts across your entrance. You can’t help biting your lip, the heat and their touch sending your mind into a frenzy.

They continue a path of kisses down your leg, now pressing their finger right up against your hole. They only pause to suck on their index and middle fingers, coating them with a heavy and blue-tinted saliva. Once they’ve reached the middle of your thigh, nipping at the apex, they sink into you.

Nocter’s fingers are long, articulated and move with sure movements. They start off slow, scissoring you open, simpering as you dig your nails into your bed sheets. The pads of their fingers push against your walls, just grazing sensitive spots as they make a slow ‘come hither’ motion. Your hips jerk forward, humping into their palm. They smirk against your skin, nipping another love bite as they retract their fingers until only the tip remains. You catch your breath, holding it until they sink back into you, shoving their fingers forward with far more force.

You whimper as their fingers pull back, only to follow with quicker thrusts. Nocter’s aim is pin-point in finding the most pleasurable spots inside you, the feeling only amplified by the pinpricks of their teeth into the fat of your thigh. The tip of their tongue licks hot trails of spit tantalizingly close to your hole, which clenches around their bony fingers. The slick sound of your juices, the skin of their palm slapping against yours, is downright pornographic.

Your legs try to clamp around their shoulders, the overwhelming stimuli triggering an instant reaction, but Nocter pins your right leg down to your bed easily, never losing focus on fingering you. The tips of their claws trace the inside of your leg, the hard edge of their wrist digging into fat.  Your fingers reach to grip around something, anything to keep you grounded as the knot in your stomach grows tighter and tighter. They find their way around Nocter’s left wrist; You’re almost afraid you’ll leave bruises, before remembering how sturdy every part of their body seems to be.

You let out a whimper as the crests of an orgasm seem to overwhelm you, nearly gasping as Nocter quickly removes their fingers. In any other state of mind you might have made a comment, look down and wonder why they’ve stopped. But the heat in your belly compels you to grip their wrist tight and to throw your hips upwards. With a desperate breath, you plead,

“P-please! Please, don’t stop.”

Nocter doesn’t chuckle, doesn’t make a sly remark about your neediness or your lewd movements. They lean forward, giving another kiss right below your navel, and pet your wrist.

“Of course, dearie.”

With a wink, they lean down a lick a long stripe up your hole, giving one last kiss to your leg before plunging their tongue inside.

You didn’t think it was possible for them to reach even deeper inside you with their tongue than their fingers, but the sparks which fly in your core say otherwise. The ridges of Nocters tongue brush against your walls as they flick the appendage back and forth, the tip pressing forward with controlled motions. It doesn’t thrash back and forward haphazardly, but reaches for those sensitive spots and plays with them.

“Oh, f-fuck!” You yelp, feeling an icy-cold liquid run down your ass. From the sound of smacking lips and muffled moans, it must be Nocter’s saliva. They let out a groan, pushing their jaw forward as their eyes clenched shut. The hand on your leg pinches skin as it tightens up, the other pressing your hips down, but the pressure they apply is phantom at best. Nocter seems to revel in your pleading humps for more, meeting each movement with a thrust of their jaw, the base of their tongue stretching you open.

The two of you keep that rhythm for what feels like an eternity, but is probably only a couple of minutes. Sweat drips down your chest and off of your belly, your legs muscles on fire as you continue to push upward and into Nocter’s face. You start feeling that impending wave begin to crest again, with your limbs shaking and your throat hoarse.

“Nocter, I’m gonna cum. I’m gonna-I’m so close!”

This time, Nocter doesn’t let up on their pace, reaching one hand down to deliver a hard slap on your ass and forcing a yelp out of you. Your speech devolves into slurred curses and your hands move to touch them, to find some grasp in reality. Nocter continues to suck and tongue-fuck your hole as your thighs clench around their head. Your humps are tiny and weak, your lower half barely holding itself up.

The knot gets tighter, a firecracker fuse about to blow in your abdomen. In the heat of the moment, your hands find their way to Nocter’s scalp and grab onto the base of their antlers. Their moan rumbles through you, right before you yank their head forward, their tongue hitting the deepest part of you as you shutter and-

“I’m cumming!”

Another moan vibrates against your hole as your body shudders and jolts, your hips still pressed firmly against Nocter’s face. But in the next moment, a heavy weight falls over your body, slumping you down onto the bed. Your chest heaves, eye’s fuzzy as Nocter’s tongue ‘pop’s out of you.

Your gaze wanders over your stucco ceiling, droplets of sweat rolling down your neck as you try and catch your breath. You can feel Nocter’s large hands rolling a massage into your thighs, their own heavy breathing brushing over your crotch.

A fuzzy shape of pure black comes into your vision as Nocter hovers over you, their body hovering just an inch above yours. They give you a small peck on the cheek.

“Feel good?” They whisper.

All you can do is nod, your shaky hands wandering over their back. There’s no sign of sweat on their skin, but you can feel the heat running off of it as they nuzzle into your neck.

As your fingers dance over the ride of their back, you can hear the rumble of a low purr coming from their chest, but they stay hovering over your body. You press your hands into their back, applying weak pressure to encourage them to relax.

“It seems I’ve repaid my debt.” Nocter murmurs into your ear, pushing themselves up onto their hands, pulling even farther from you as their eye’s look around your room. You keep your hands wrapped around their waist, stopping them from fully getting up. They look back to you, white eyes slightly widening.

“Would you-” You take another deep breath, “Want to stay? For the night?”

Nocter stares at you, the black void of their face almost unreadable. But when they run a claw down the side of your face, it burns with affection and longing.

“Would you want that?”

Your room is nearly pitch black, only the lights of the street peeking in between your curtains. Nocter’s body seems to absorb all light near it, their hot body like a heating pad. But their eyes are so bright, so full, so mesmerizing; Like a full moon on the dark city sky.

“Yes, I would.”

Nocter’s nods, their expression barely changing, but you think you can see a hint of a smile amidst all the black. They let their body relax, pressing their chest against yours as they sink into the sheets and nuzzle back into your neck.

You can smell the sweat coating your body and feel the way you stick to the sheets. Frankly, the both of you kind of smell.

But it doesn’t stop you from snuggling into Nocter’s body, eye’s heavy as you peacefully fall into sleep.

[ssaeri]

crushing popcorn beneath my feet iii

☆ tags: mammon x gn!reader, y/n is a carnival booth worker, mammon keeps spending money on their booth to spend time with them, y/n's an expert thrower and mammon's a bad student, mini-series ☆

☆ taglist: @my-perfect-machine ☆

"This stupid game is rigged."

You stare down Mammon's pointing finger with an amused smirk, and he hates how confident you look, hates how badly he wants to look away. Dressed in a brightly striped uniform shirt and a black apron over black pants, you're kind of cute...in a clown sort of way. Shrugging, you return to picking up stray baseballs and tossing them back into their plastic bin.

"Take it up with my boss, pretty boy — I'm just in charge of manning the money. If I were you, though, I'd focus more on doing my homework. This is the third day in a row that you're here, you realize that?" you ask. The last ball lands with a solid thud, and you smile at him over your shoulder, hands on your hips. "Unless the allowance you get from big brother Lucifer is big enough to waste on mediocre prizes."

"O-oi!" He scowls. He knew he shouldn't have come in his RAD uniform, but he didn't have time to go home and change before your shift ends. "What's with that dig, huh? The great Mammon makes his own money, thank ya very much."

You press your lips together like you know something he doesn't, but you don't say anything else.

"Anyway, stop changin' the topic. The game is rigged, and it's not fair to innocent participants like me."

"You?" You scoff. You're by the edge of the booth again. "Mammon, Avatar of Greed, your reputation precedes you. Trust me, you should be the last person to talk about fairness, or should I remind you about the funnel cake scam you tried to pull last month?" You raise your eyebrows. "Or the beanbag toss game before that? The one where you blocked the holes with black fabric and, what, hoped people wouldn't notice?"

Those were ridiculous plans, he admits, and the verbal thrashing he got from Lucifer still rings in his ears, but he only got caught because those stands were half-planned. He's gotten better at designing carnival games; just give him some time, and he'll find a way to set up shop on the outskirts of the grounds again. Maybe he'll even get Levi to donate some plushies — the expensive limited edition ones will attract some eyes — and boom. Easy money.

You lean across the counter, head tilted, and after spending so much time observing your expressions, he knows now that whatever you're thinking is going to be—

"Have you considered the fact that you're just not good?"

—annoying as hell. Seriously, how do you not quake before one of the strongest demons in Devildom? Sure, he's more easy-going than some of his brothers, but he's still the second-born and that has to count for something.

Then again, you're the same one who lied to Lucifer's face, vaguely threatened him, and lived to tell the tale.

"I'm better than almost all of ya customers! I bet the boards are nailed down or somethin'. There's just no way I've been playin' so many rounds and not winnin' the grand prize." This may have started because he had a special request for you, but at this point, he wonders if his pride is on the line. "Wait a minute, why don't you prove it? Come down here and throw some yourself."

You shake your head with an exaggerated pout. "Sorry, love, but I'm on the clock. No time to fool around with you," you say, but then you pause. "Actually, how about this: my shift tomorrow doesn't start until the evening. If you come a little earlier than that, I'll show you how to throw before I have to work."

This isn't a date. Technically, it's a lesson, but Mammon supposes that it's as close as he'll get for now. And this time, he'll definitely dress to impress.

Which is why he shows up in his signature leather jacket and jeans, yellow-tinted sunglasses perched on the tip of his nose. This look never fails to drive people crazy, though as he approaches your stand, he belatedly remembers that the last he wore this, you saw him on the run from Lucifer. Not his coolest moment. He sees you leaning against the booth's side, smiling up at the current worker as your fingers fly across your D.D.D — add texting without looking to your list of talents.

You notice him out of the corner of your eye. "Hey there!" You wave, pocketing your device as he gets closer. Then you gesture to the demon manning the stand in your place. "This is my friend, Belial. Belial, this is the one I've been telling you about, the one that wants to learn."

"Ah, yes," Belial murmurs, lips curling into a sneer that you don't blink at. "The pretty boy, non? I hear that you have not been able to win at all. A bit of a — how to say — losing streak, hm?"

"It's Mammon to you. The great Mammon, if you're unlucky enough. And s'not because I've been losing; I can knock 'em over easy."

"That is not what they have been telling me," Belial says, nodding at you. "No matter. You have the best teacher in town. You know y/n has the highest win ratio out of all of the workers — almost eighty percent. It is a good thing they are a worker because they would clean out our supply as a customer."

You give an easy laugh, waving off the praise. "You're making up numbers, Bel; lucky shots, that's all they were."

Now that Belial mentions it, Mammon's never actually seen you throw before. If you're as good as your friend's saying...maybe he's just been embarrassing himself this whole time. You gesture for him to join you at the counter before handing off two baseballs. It's maybe thirty minutes before your shift is supposed to start, but you're already partially dressed in your uniform. The striped shirt, a long-sleeve version for the gradually cooling temperature, is tied around your waist.

The third ball remains in your hand, your fingers curling around it as you evaluate the targets. "Since you're my guest today, why don't you choose? Which one should I aim for?"

"Go big or go home, right?" He points straight at a Hell Challenge one. But then he backtracks, murmuring, "Unless that one's too hard for a warm up? You can start with the—"

Your wind-up is so quick he barely sees it, but he feels how hard your foot connects with the ground as you swing your body into the throw. The ball hits its mark, dead-center, with a solid thwack! and Mammon swears he sees smoke as it spins in place. The ball drops, and so does his jaw.

"Eighty percent." Belial whistles lowly. "I told you."

PT. 4: here

[pinkchanelbag]

pining (in peace). — kenma.

a.k.a., kenma “i’d tell her i like her but i’m sleepy” kozume.

— because things are actually pretty good how they are. because he likes (and really only has the energy for) taking care of you in those subtle ways. because he hasn’t begun prepping for the emotional charge and crippling fear of a confession. and he's in no rush. because, if he's honest, kenma feels like you'll be the one he ends up with regardless.

— constant hangouts that don’t feel like hangouts anymore. “hanging out” implies a start and an end to kenma’s presence in your day, which is like saying you pull all the hairs on your body out of their follicles at the end of every day and then re-place them in the morning. being around kenma doesn’t feel like hanging out with a friend. it feels the way blinking feels. 

— anyone wants to “talk to you in private”? their eyes will look over the brown-yellow mop sitting next to you, a short distance from you, or blended into the background, bent over a PSP or nibbling on some gummies or blinking at them like a people-watching cat. and they’ll have to mind him, as is clear when you say “huh? oh, it’s just kenma.” 

— he only realizes something is different with you when kuroo makes a joke about how kenma looks after you the way kuroo looks after him.

— in fact, it sticks with him so much that it idly wanders through his mind as he games into the night, and the next day when he sees kuroo, he asks him if his caring for you is unusual.

— “is that...bad? like, does that mean something?” and kuroo is grinning fondly at his oblivious best friend.

— like a good coach, though, he doesn’t just give kenma the answer. he points out that he (kuroo) takes care of everyone, pretty much, so there’s nothing unusual about him doing it. he points out that kenma isn’t like that, but vagues about how just because something is unusual doesn’t mean it’s bad.

— and that’s that...yeah, kenma thinks about it often and eventually does go “ohhh.......” but strangely enough, his realization that he has more-than-friends feelings for you doesn’t panic him much. he’s kinda like, “...weird.”

— don’t get me wrong; for a little while after he realizes, when he’s around you he becomes silently flustered for no reason other than his own feelings. he’ll catch himself thinking about how nice your hair looks that day and how you’re really nice to look at, then be like “yo stop.”

— but he falls easily into it, because kuroo is right: he does take care of you, and he enjoys doing it.

— like when the two of you are at your house after school and he’s looking through your fridge for a snack while simultaneously picking out packable-looking foods and tossing them at you, telling you to put them in your backpack. he doesn’t say—doesn’t need to say—that it’s because he knows you’ll forget to pack a lunch for tomorrow’s school day.

— or how he’ll never say it, but he prefers that you stay after school and wait for him to finish practice because he (usually with kuroo in tow) wants to make sure he accompanies you on the train.

— (especially after the time you called him right before practice, and how he got no response to his hello? but could hear the bustling of the train and your little voice responding to another—an older man’s. kenma couldn’t hear the man’s words, but his tone was casual, friendly. too friendly. too old. and you sounded scared. in an instant he hung up and called you back so that you had to visibly pick up a call, then told you to excuse yourself and move to the other side of the car, then get off at the next stop. and to stay on the phone with him , all the way home.)

— it’s why, now, he gets slightly frowny every time you say you’re heading home before him. you notice it, and it’s why you end up spending most days after school in the library or the picnic tables on the front lawn until the two boys come out to take you home.

— at school, in those free periods where you’re on the verge of passing out and kenma is playing his PSP, he’ll take off that practically statement oversized red hoodie so you can bunch it into a makeshift pillow and sleep next to him on the bench (he definitely doesn’t pause to look at you every now and then).

— kenma who has a cat (furudate told me himself) and when the two of you are at his house and you seem to be in a sad mood, he’ll lightly shove his cat’s bum in your direction so it’ll go cuddle with you.

— and when on the train or in free period or sitting on the grass somewhere, he notices the way you idly watch him play and he adjusts his hold on the PSP and his sitting position, sort of brings himself closer to you so you’re right at his shoulder with optimal view to watch his screen.

— he can’t help the sickly smiley feeling inside when you start asking questions about the gameplay, and he happily answers them in a soft voice close to your ear. if you really wanna make his heart ache, the way you lay your head on his shoulder after craning it weirdly to watch for so long will have him letting out the tiniest of lovesick sighs.

— kenma who won’t facetime you himself but will text you consistently and for long enough that you get tired of typing and call him yourself, and his heart stutters when he sees incoming call on the screen.

— he won’t talk much on those calls, instead choosing to listen to your voice as you go on about absolutely anything. if he feels like you’re becoming self conscious about how much speaking you’ve been doing, he’ll ask a question about the topic (he was listening to every word) to let you know he was invested, or bring up his own conversation topic so you wouldn’t feel like you didn’t let him “say his piece.”

— he’s sort of 😦😐 about the idea of romantic affection or intimacy mostly because he can’t see himself doing it; it’s a big factor of why he doesn’t make a move. the thought of him planning dates and kissing openly and saying things like “yeah, i was with my girlfriend.” it’s too unlike him. he couldn’t be that person.

— that was before you’d ever dozed off while on the phone with him.

— before he ever heard your sleepy voice that made something inside him go warm with a realization that hit him harder than when he realized he had feelings for you: he realized he wanted to hold you.

— or something like it. he wanted to be there with you as you fell asleep. instead of a speaker, he wanted to hear your voice through your own mouth. and if he thinks about your mouth, he knows he’ll wither away entirely.

— that was how he discovered the difference between liking someone and wanting them. not in a sexual way; feelings so strong that they could make someone want to cross the line between a crush and something more. to want someone enough that not being with them, not feeling along the lines of their existence and not being able to say all the things you think about them, hurts.

— kenma discovers what it means to ache for someone, and this is what panics him, because now, how can he not tell you?

— because he’s not the type of guy to hold hands in public or give compliments or consent to meaning something to somebody. but he knows, wearily, that he’d do it. if it’s you, he’d do it in a heartbeat.

— (yeah...maybe not so peaceful after all.)

[hournites]

Blush

Fluffy Hournite fic for Valentine’s Day! 

~.~ 

~.~

It’s as normal a day as any. Beth wakes up and brushes her teeth, gets dressed, makes breakfast, eats breakfast then walks towards Main Street in the crisp morning cold. She sticks her hands into the pockets of her maroon tweed skirt and hurries into the Pit Stop just as the sun peaks over the clouds atop the St-Thomas Church steeple. 

Pat’s head is stuck under the roof of his recent fix-up, but he waves his wrench in her direction when the garage door opens. 

“Good morning, Mr. Dugan!” She shrugs off her bag. There’s forty-five minutes until homeroom, it makes more sense to wait here than wait for her friends to trickle in one by one to  school. “Is Court up yet?” 

Pat’s words are muffled under the purring engine. He rights himself up and shoots her a sympathetic smile. “Actually, Court’s got an emergency dentist appointment. Barb’s driving her in so she won’t be late for second period.” 

“Oh,” Beth replies. “That’s okay.” 

Internally, she rolls her eyes. Courtney’s been strategically faking a toothache since Monday in order to score a very convenient teeth cleaning on Valentine’s Day, convinced it’s finally the day Cameron Mahkent is going to kiss her. 

“Rick should be here soon though.” And the bells just finished chiming so Yolanda is likely heading down the front steps of the church now. 

Sure enough, the Yellow Mustang rolls into the driveway, while still early, a little later than usual. Beth bites down on her lip to quell the stupid grin threatening to grace her face as she watches him walk in through the window. It’s not like she hadn't seen him yesterday. 

“Hey,” he greets her when he arrives, climbing up the steps to the loft. He’s wearing one of his classic tan coloured sherpa jackets. “I passed by Yolanda at the church, she said she’s going to walk.” He pauses halfway, hands on the bars of the ladder instead of coming up all the way. “What’s up?” 

Beth shrugs. “Nothing much. Doing some homework. Have you started reading Emma?”

“Uhhh...” Rick says. “No? I mean, I’ll get to it. Eventually. When’s the book report due again?”

“Not until the week after next.” 

Rick shakes his head at her. “Yeah, that’s not happening anytime soon.”

“Or I can read it to you?”

“I know how to read!”

“I know!” Beth laughs. “But I think it would be fun.” ...And it’s an excuse to spend more time with him.

“Fine! You can read it to me.” He rests his arms against the top ladder step. “Sure. Okay.”

“Really?!” Beth grins. That was easy. “We can meet here tomorrow before school! I’ll bring you coffee!”

“Sounds good.” He gestures to the ground floor. “Come down. I’ve got something for you in the car, wanna see?”

Curious, Beth quickly puts away the book and follows him down. Rick throws up a wave at Pat, and they leave through the side door. Main Street is a lot busier now, and the chill isn’t as bad with the sun on her back. It’s nice enough for February, but Beth is really wishing she brought her heavier coat. 

“What happened to your jacket?” 

Beth frowns a bit. He’s right to point it out that it’s weird but it’s hard to exactly justify to Rick foregoing a hat and scarf and thick jacket in favour of looking cute. Courtney would get it. 

Beth deflects by striking a pose. “Do you like my outfit?” It’s on theme without being too on the nose. Her mom thought it was a very classy 80s style cardigan and skirt pairing she couldn’t go wrong with. 

“Yeesss…” Rick answers slowly, “But are you sure you don’t want my hoodie?”

Beth’s eyes grow wide. Uh, was Rick just offering? Before she could untwist her tongue to reply, he’s shrugging it off from under his jacket and tossing it to her. Beth spins to catch the hoodie before it lands on concrete. 

“Thanks,” she says weakly, pulling it over her elastic hairband, just knowing it’s messing up with her hair as she struggles to get her head through the hole. It’s huge on her, hanging from her elbows like a gigantic fleece sheet. Rick’s eyes are full of laughter when she scrunches up her nose, trailing her fingertips at the hem of the hoodie where it brushes against her knees. With the flesh-coloured stockings matched for her skirt still skin-tight on her legs and her red earrings, it looks like Beth is swallowed in a makeshift hoodie dress destined for a photo-op in street-style fashion. 

“It’s not that big,” he lies. 

Beth grumbles as if she’s not secretly loving this. Both Rick’s clothes hugging her and his lingering gaze. 

She rushes to the passenger side of Rick’s car, eager to get in. Rick unlocks the car and Beth opens the door. Instead of climbing in, she stops and her mouth hangs open. 

Rick shrugs as though it’s completely normal to find a beautiful bouquet of romantic red roses in his car. “It’s Valentine’s Day, isn’t it?”

Wait, those are for me?

And then she feels silly as a warm sweep of happiness rushes through her all the way down to her toes. They have her name on them. And Rick leant her his hoodie. Rick shooed Yolanda away this morning and said he had something for her. And they’ve been maybe sorta kinda circling around feelings for each other for a pretty long time now. They’re absolutely for her!

Beth is floored. “I know, but…” She stares at the red roses in the front seat of the Mustang some more. Yep, they were still there. Rick fights to control the flush spreading over his cheeks. Beth finds herself accepting them when he gently pushes the bouquet into her arms.

“I know you’re not my girlfriend or anything. I was just thinking…Maybe you could be?” The second half of his sentence ends up coming out more like a question. 

“You want me to be your girlfriend,” Beth echoes dumbly. She ducks her head into the bouquet and smiles like crazy. Was this for real?! “You can be my boyfriend?”

“Only if you want,” Rick adds quickly, losing confidence. “You can keep the roses either way. You’re still my best friend.” When Beth didn’t say anything he clears his throat. “But I really like you, Beth.”

“I really like you too,” she says shyly, meeting his eyes. And holy heck when has Beth ever been one to sound shy? “I wasn’t sure if it was just me.”

“It’s not just you,” he says. He settles into the driver’s seat, rubbing the back of his neck like he doesn’t know what to do now that she’s said they could make something of what they have. “Um. Okay. Cool.” 

“Cool,” Beth says back. She leans over and presses a kiss to Rick’s cheek. “Thank you for the surprise.”

He shoots her another smile. One of his real ones.

“So tomorrow morning can be a date!” Beth says excitedly. “I know you don’t like Jane Austin though--”

“I just feel like we deal with enough Victorian nonsense with The Shade.”

“Jane Austen is Regency.”

Rick rolls his eyes. “It’ll be fine, Beth.”

“--So maybe it’s not a perfect first date but we can do something you like after class...” She trails off as Rick drives into the school parking lot, narrowing her eyes suspiciously at him. “Wait...Did you agree to listen to me just because you like to hear me talk?”

“No.” His face goes red immediately. “Maybe.” 

“Ha!” Beth kicks her feet. “You do!” 

“Shut up.”

“You have a crush on my voice!”

“I have a crush on all of you!” Rick snaps, then looks mortified. He parks and crosses his arms, setting his jaw and staring straight ahead. “I can’t believe we’ve been dating for 3 minutes and you’re already making fun of me.”

“Aww,” says Beth. She unbuckles her seat belt and sets the flowers on top of the dashboard, leaning over to wrap her arms around his neck. His hoodie sleeves flood past her hands. The corner of Rick’s mouth lifts a bit. “I’m not making fun of you,” she promises. “I’m just really excited.” She licks her lips, realizing how close she is to Rick’s face. “Rick? Since I’m your girlfriend now...Is it okay to kiss you?”

Rick turns to look at her. She blinks. Then Rick’s hand is gentle on her face. And he kisses her, soft and very sweet. 

Someone knocks on the Mustang window. The two jump apart. Beth clutches the bouquet of roses as a weapon. Rick, nearly about to throw hands. 

“It’s just me,” says Yolanda once Rick slams hard on the button to roll down the window. “You’re going to be late for school.”

Beth awkwardly climbs over Rick’s lap to get out of his car. She shows Yolanda her flowers. “Aren’t they pretty?”

Yolanda smiles at her. “Yeah, he’s had that planned for a while, haven’t you, loverboy?” Rick steps on her boot. Yolanda gasps, shoving him in retaliation. She tilts her head at Beth. “Is that Rick’s hoodie? And where’s Court?”

“Dentist.” Beth grabs Rick’s hand as they make their way into the school, Yolanda following behind them. “And I think this hoodie’s now mine.” 

[duuhrayliegh]

A Friend of Yours - pt. 3

pairing: bucky x reader

warnings: TFATWS SPOILERS!!!!!, language, canon lvl violence, soft!bucky, some suggestive content, it’s ten thousand words so i’m sure i missed something, just lmk and i’ll tag it accordingly babes.

word count: 10,246 (i may have gone a little overboard)

a/n: this is the last part, unless y’all want more. i’m rlly proud of myself w this series, granted MUCH of the content was already written for me, nonetheless, here you go. i hope y’all like it <3

read A Friend of Yours - pt. 1 and A Friend of Yours - pt. 2

p.s.: my requests and tag lists are open!!

check out my m.list here!

xoxo ray

The Wilson family house was adorable. Two stories with chipped blue paint on the walls and yellowing white on the columns. You had beat Sam there, so you decided to just look around for a few minutes before meeting Sarah and the boys. You walked out to the dock in front of their house, admiring the water, how still and calm it was. You were staring into the distance when you heard small footsteps from behind you.

“You know, it’s rude to sneak up on people.” You weren’t sure which boy it was, but you were trying to present a non-threatening front.

“You know, it’s rude to invite yourself onto someone else's property.” You were surprised when you heard Sam’s voice respond to you. Turning quickly to face the man with the confused expression. “I thought you wouldn’t come to the States because of the whole Enemy of it thing.” He walked away from you, gesturing for you to follow as he picked up your abandoned duffle. “He’s not here if that’s who you’re looking for.” You shook your head as you crossed the threshold into the living room.

“I’m not here for him, although he would be a much welcome bonus.” The two of you shared a laugh. “But no, I’m here to help you however I can.” Sam’s eyes narrowed, wondering if he should question your generosity. Your eyes must have given away your desperation for a home because he decided against it.

“Okay, but if you’re here, you’re gonna work. We’ve got a lot of shit to get done if we’re going to fix this boat up.”

“What boat?” You smiled at him as he began explaining what was going on. He just skimmed the top of what was really happening, but you could tell he was worried even though he wore a good facade.

“Get changed into some clothes you don’t mind getting messed up.”

“Am I going to be doing, like, manual labor?” He gave you a ‘duh’ look to which you groaned, “So, shorts are out of the question?” Sam had already walked into the kitchen before replying.

“Only if you want to freeze your ass off!” You changed quickly into a pair of ripped mom jeans that you cinched with a belt at your waist and a white short sleeved shirt.

“Do you have an overshirt I can borrow?”

“You mean, a flannel?” Sam shot back as he exited the room.

“Yeah, an overshirt.”

“No. A flannel. Come on, say it with me, flannel.” He tossed one your way, which you put on the rolled the sleeves up to your elbows.

“It’s an overshirt, Sam. I’m not seeing the issue.”

“Y/N, it's a flannel. Just say flannel, why you gotta make it all fancy?” He walked out the back door and onto a wooden bridge that led to the marina the boat was docked at. He didn’t let the flannel thing go the whole way over, making you laugh loudly and shake your head. As you walked up the dock, you could see several people helping Sarah and Sam with their boat.

“This is all you guys?” You were amazed, you hadn’t seen togetherness like this since before Aunt Peggy died. “Wow.” You said mostly to yourself as Sam walked you up to the woman of the hour.

“Sarah, we’ve got another one. Sarah, Y/N. Y/N, Sarah.” You stuck your hand out for Sarah to shake, which she did kindly. “I’m going to work on getting some of the siding off the boat. Sarah, Y/N is all yours.” He darted off, leaving you with Sarah.

“What ya got for me, Sarah? I’m here to do whatever you need.” She began instructing you to help with cataloging everything that people were bringing. Whether it be rusty spare parts or a couple twenty dollar bills, Sarah wanted to know and she wanted a record of it. A truck pulled up next to the boat and Sam got out hugging the men that exited it.

“Tommy, Carlos, man, this is amazing.” They exchanged a few more words before one of them asked the inevitable question.

“How do we get it off the truck?” A loud scraping sound emitted as the pallet was taken from the truck bed. Bucky lifted the bundle of parts over his head effortlessly, dropping it on the ground. He turned to the group of three men staring at him.

“You’re welcome.” You laughed as you approached. Bucky hauled a gray and black case onto the truck bed, speaking to Sam about it. Suddenly, one of the pipe fittings went out of whack, causing a steady stream of air to escape on the boat. Sarah stopped in front of it on the dock.

“Sam!” She was holding her clipboard as she watched Sam try to stop the leak with a crescent wrench. Bucky walked up next to Sarah, saying hi before telling Sam he was doing it wrong.

“Men. They even mansplain to other men, can you believe that?” You said from beside Sarah while Bucky finished fixing the leak. You tilted your head to admire him, “But we love to watch them work, huh?” She laughed as you wiggled your eyebrows at her. Bucky and Sam turned back to you and Sarah and Bucky’s eyes widened when they landed on your figure. Sam walked toward the front of the boat as Bucky stopped to introduce himself to Sarah.

“Sarah--” His eyes flicked to yours, “Y/N.” Then he quickly followed behind Sam.

“Oh, what was that, Y/N?” Sarah teased, two can play at that game.

“I don’t know, what was your thing about, Sarah?” You said her name like Bucky did to mess with her. She shoved your shoulder away and pushed you back to work.

You had to admit, watching Bucky do domestic type things with his metal appendage did things to you. Just knowing that he was comfortable enough to be around Sam’s whole family with his arm fully on display, made you happy.  The sun was beginning to go down, and you were sharing a beer with Sam and Bucky. Bucky hadn’t spoken to you directly since he got there and it was starting to irk you. You thought that you had something, but maybe not. Bucky rose from his position on the boat, clinking his bottle with Sam’s, claiming he needed to find a hotel room so he could catch his flight tomorrow.

“You’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?” Sam joked.

“I just don’t wanna make it weird for your family.” But Bucky’s eyes caught yours as he spoke.

“Just stay here, man.” Sam began a rant about the people of the town, ending with, “Plus we already got one freeloader for the night, what’s one more, right?”

“Oh goodie! Are we going to braid each other’s hair and play Seven Minutes in Heaven, too?” you teased Sam, but Bucky stiffened.

“We can do whatever you want.” Sam said, then he pointed at Bucky, “Just don’t flirt with my sister. Cause if you do, I’ll have Carlos cut you up, feed you to the fish.” Bucky made a face at Sam before smiling again.

Later that night, after you had all eaten dinner and the kids had gone to bed, you contemplated what your next move was going to be. You were sitting in one of the patio couches outside, a blanket wrapped around your legs, watching the stars reflection in the water. Bucky walked out on the porch, a pair of sweats-- that he had to borrow from Sam because he didn’t pack anything-- slung low on his hips, his blue Henley stopping just before the waistband of his boxers.

His gaze met yours and he approached you as if you were a wild animal and you were going to run away if he made any sudden movements. Your legs had been sprawled across both cushions of the couch, so instead of letting you change positions, Bucky just lifted your legs and then rested them on his lap. His left hand was rubbing back and forth just above your ankle.

“Is there a reason you’ve been avoiding me, James?” He ignored your question all together, opting to ask his own.

“Do you remember when we first met?” You thought back to the first time that you ever saw him. Chained to a chair, hair hiding his face from nosy onlookers.

“Uh, yeah. You were being treated like an animal, caged in a glass box. Why?” His left hand never stopped its motion on your leg.

“When you first started staring at me, I was absolutely positive that it was out of fear. Then when I actually looked at you, you were curious.” You nodded your head, recalling the emotions.

“That was a stressful day.” You could sense that Bucky didn’t need your input to get to where he was going.

“Then, when we were in that stupid tiny blue car that Steve had crammed us into,” he paused to laugh at the memory, “I was sure in that moment, that I was never going to see you again.” His gaze hadn’t left his palms on your legs, refusing to meet your eyes. “And when I saw you in Madripoor, I was positive that it was just someone who looked a lot like you. It couldn’t have been you, I wasn’t that lucky.”

His left hand gripped your leg as he spoke, “But then you started talking and I would’ve known that voice anywhere. All I wanted was to be close to you.”

“Bucky, you almost broke my arm because I sucker punched Zemo.” He shushed you.

“All I wanted was to be close to you, but I’m also a violent person.” He brought his head up, locking his steel blue orbs with yours. “Then you kept talking and you were so smart. So beautiful.” His metal hand left your leg to cup your chin. “Every word out of your mouth mesmerized me, even when you were kind of insulting me.” His thumb stroked your jaw, traveling up to your bottom lip. “And God, the way you said my name.” Your nostrils flared and your brow raised.

“What? James?” You trapped your bottom lip in between your teeth, giving Bucky reason to pull it out with his metal thumb. Your tongue shot out to wet your lips out of habit and Bucky shot you a glare.

“Doll. What’re you doing to me?” He dropped his thumb back to your cheek as his eye flicked over your face. He brought his hands down to your waist, holding it tightly and pulling you closer to him. Your ass now rested against his right leg, and he transferred his grip to wrap around your blanket covered thighs. A squeal escaped your lips without your permission, making your face contort.

“When we were sitting at the bar in your gallery I wanted nothing more than to smother you with all my love and affection.” Your heart rate increased, you want that too. “I’m glad I wasn’t able to though.” Your stomach dropped, a feeling of rejection washing over you. You began to pull away from him, wanting to escape his touch. He gripped your legs tighter against his body, “At that time, I wasn’t what I should be for you. I’ll probably never be exactly what I should be for you, but I’m selfish enough right now that I don’t care anymore.” He twisted his upper body to face you.

“What are you talking about, James?” A visible shiver ran down his spine as you said his real name. He brought both his hands up to grip your face. The cool air added to the temperature difference of his hands.

“I’m talking about this.” It wasn’t a half a second later that his lips were on yours. It took you a second to respond, but you did with fervor. Your hands traveled to his neck to show him that you wanted this too. His fingers fanned out, cupping behind your ears to bring you impossibly closer to him. His tongue traced your bottom lip, seeking entrance which you denied playfully. He brought his thumbs to rest on your chin, applying pressure as he asked again. At this point, you didn’t care about the pardon, or Karli and the Flag Smashers, or Sharon and the Power Broker, or even Sam, Sarah and the boys. You could only focus on James’ lips that were molding so perfectly with your own. You eventually had to break apart, your fingertips coming to rest on James’ kiss swollen lips. You locked eyes with him again, his pupils blown wide, and the two of you laughed.

“Oh, that.” You traced his lips while holding his stare. “Is that why you haven’t been talking to me?” He nodded quickly, gaze drifting down to your lips again. He leaned forward wanting to steal another kiss, but you stopped him. “That’s not okay behavior, James. You can’t just not talk to me because you’re frustrated with yourself.” He hummed a noise of assent, kissing your fingertips on his lips. His palm came up to keep your fingers pressed to his lips as his eyes roamed your face. “What does this mean, James? You aren’t just going to get my hopes up and then walk away right?”  He pulled back from you, a look of disappointment crossing his features.

“I’m sorry if I’ve made you feel like that would be a possibility.” He took a deep breath, “After my time in Wakanda, after Shuri de-programmed me, I thought I finally had a group of people I could trust. Then, Ayo was able to remove my arm within the blink of an eye, but not the way that they had when they were tweaking it.” He rested his body against the back of the patio couch. “My therapist had been telling me that I needed to trust someone, and up until that point, I did. I thought I had people who fully trusted me as well.” He looked over at you, silent tears racing down his cheeks. “This clearly isn’t a good excuse, but I felt like you wouldn’t have trusted me either.” Your hands came up to his face, wiping away his tears.

“James, I’ve known of you for years before I met you. Remember how Sharon said I did that report on you in high school?” He nodded as much as your hold on his face would allow him to. “Well, that’s when I first fell in love with the idea of you.” His eyes widened as you continued speaking. “Then, I was lucky enough to meet you and it felt like everything fell into place. After Sharon and I ran off to Madripoor, I wasn’t sure if I was going to see you again, and I was okay with that because maybe you were better left as an idea.” You laughed as you looked down at your lap, dropping your hands from his face. “Then I got dusted during the Blip, which is a whole other thing and then Sharon said that you were in Madripoor.” You shook your head then faced him, eyes locking with his red rimmed pair.

“I would love to fall in love with you. And right now, I want nothing more than to let the trust we have for each other grow into something more.” A wide smile spread across his face and he bared his teeth at you, scrunching his face at the nose.

“I want that too.” He leaned forward slapping a sloppy kiss onto your lips, which you returned with equal intensity. When Bucky pulled back from you to catch his breath, he left his forehead resting against your own. Your breaths synchronized and he patted his hand twice on your outer thigh, signalling you that he was going to get up. “We better get some sleep.” He stood in front of you, offering you his hand. You smiled as you entwined your fingers with his metal ones.

Luckily, Cas and AJ were kind enough to share a room tonight so you could sleep in the other. Bucky’s hand never left your side as he walked you up the stairs. Once you had reached the closed door, he wrapped his arm around you, twisting your body to face him, back pressed against the cold wood of the door. He pushed his whole body forward, molding your bodies together as his hands hooked into the waistband of your sleep shorts.

“I’m glad that we talked, Y/N.” He pecked your lips, pulling back afterwards to stare at your face.

“I’m glad we did too, but what are you doing?” A nervous laugh left your lips and Bucky’s eyes followed the movement.

“You’re just so pretty.” He leaned forward kissing your cheeks, “I’m happy,” A kiss to your chin. “that I’ll be able to,” one to your nose, “call you my doll soon.” His lips lingering on your forehead before bringing his chin up to the top of your head, pulling you into him for a hug. You brought your arms up to wrap around his waist, your face pressed into the spot where his neck and collarbone met.

“Am I not already your doll?” Your question was muffled against his skin, but he heard you.

“Not until I specifically ask you. You can be mine without being my doll, but I want to wine and dine you before I feast.” Your brows raised again and your lips rolled inwards.

“Before you feast?” You were holding back a laugh, so Bucky pulled back, his hands gripping your shoulders, face serious.

“Feast.” He reached behind you opening the door. He gave you a quick smooch before pushing you into the empty room, alone with your thoughts. You had a harder time falling asleep that night. Bucky, on the other hand, had no problem, sleeping like a rock with a smug smile on his face.

You woke up to the sound of eggshells being cracked and forks hitting the sides of ceramic plates. Walking down the stairs and into the kitchen, you saw Sarah working over the stove while Cas was scrambling eggs. Sarah heard you coming down, ever the always aware mother.

“Hey, hope you’re hungry, ‘cause you aren’t leaving this kitchen without eating somethin’.” She watched as you peered into the living room, searching for Bucky’s imposing figure. “I think he’s down at the dock with Sam. They left real early this morning and girl, I swear to God if they’re messin’ with that water pump, I’m going to strangle the both of them.” You laughed, taking the plate of scrambled eggs that AJ was holding out to you.

“Did you tell them that the water pump wasn’t the issue?” She nodded as she stirred the eggs in her pan. “Then you know that they are, Sarah.” The two of you shared a laugh as Cas and AJ sat down to eat, as well.

“Y’all better hurry up before you’re late for the bus.” The boys quickly shoved their remaining food into their mouths, rushing out the door after kissing their mother goodbye.

“How do you do it?” Sarah’s head tilted, wondering what you were referring to. “Being a single mother and managing a business? Does it all get to be too much sometimes?” She could tell you were genuinely curious, so she sighed.

“It’s definitely challenging at times, but thankfully I have a good enough relationship with AJ and Cas that we’re able to get through pretty much anything. After we lost their Dad, I was all alone and scared. I’m still scared a lot of the time, scared that I’m going to mess them up, you know?” She paused a second to recollect her thoughts. “It’s just by chance that we live in this amazing community that helped me whenever I needed a little bit of assistance.” The conversation between the two of you fizzled after that, perhaps it was too heavy a topic for breakfast to handle. You followed her to meet a group of people at the marina, but the journey there wasn’t silent.

“So, I have a question, but you don’t have to answer it if you don’t want to. Although I feel like if you don’t answer it, you’re kind of answering it.” You encouraged her to ask whatever she wanted to. “You and Bucky are a thing, right?” You coughed, unsure of how to answer. “That’s all the confirmation I needed.” Sarah smiled at you as your mouth struggled to form words.

“We are, but we aren’t?” Sarah gave you a look making you roll your eyes. “I don’t know he said that he was excited to see where this was going and then we kissed, so yes?”

“Oh, he looks like a good kisser.”

“Right? Just like he’s got the bone structure and lip plumpness ratio down to a T.” There was a brief moment of silence before the two of you burst into a fit of laughter. The walk down the marina dock wasn’t a long one, so you were able to see Sam and Bucky hunched over a pile of scattered parts.

“Uh-huh. No. No.” Sarah’s head began shaking as Sam was arguing with Bucky, who wasn’t paying attention to him. Instead, his eyes were roaming your figure, lingering on your face. His eyes darted to Sam before he greeted the two of you with a wave of his hand.

“I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”

“Yep, Samuel.” Bucky teasingly berated, taking Sarah’s side.

“You’re in just as much trouble, you by-stander.” Your voice lilted into a playful tone as Bucky made a shocked face at you.

“In our defense, we were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”

“I don’t come up to the sky to tell you how to barrel roll, so don’t come down here and mess around with things you don’t understand.” Your fist came up to your mouth.

“Oh, that’s a-burn, Bird Brain.” You pointed a finger at Sam, clutching your stomach with your other hand as Sarah swatted the two boys away. Bucky stopped next to you, wrapping his metal arm around the front of your body, delivering a soft kiss to your temple. He left with Sam, arguing the whole way to the house while you stayed with Sarah, reassembling the water pump.

By the time you had gotten back to the Wilson house, Bucky was hauling his backpack strap onto his shoulder. You slowed your approach, holding your open palms in front of you, confused as to what Bucky was doing.

“Where are you going?” He turned to face you, a smile spreading over his face. His metal arm wrapped around your waist again, pressing a kiss to your temple.

“I’m heading to New York, I’ve got some stuff to wrap up there. I want you to come with me.” You were taken aback, what about Karli and the GRC?

“We haven’t finished this whole thing with the Flag Smashers, or Walker. Bucky, we can’t just walk away from our responsibilities.” Bucky’s hands clasped around your shoulders.

“We aren’t, Y/N, I promise. Sam has Torres doing something with some signal do-dads and he’s going to call us the second he gets a lead.” He spoke calmly and you thought it over. At least he wasn’t trying to run away again, he was accepting that he had a real role in this. You could feel a shift coming, you weren’t quite sure what it meant, but you were hoping it was a good one.

“Okay, let’s go to New York.”

The two of you hadn’t even been in New York maybe twenty minutes when Sam texted Bucky that he had a line on where Karli was. Supposedly she was heading a takeover of the GRC meeting in Lower Manhattan. If being in New York as a wanted person was nerve wracking enough, now you were going to be surrounded by hundreds of government officials and some of New York’s finest. Bucky was on the phone with Sam, talking through the plan when your phone buzzed. Pulling the device out of your pocket, you saw Sharon’s name pop up.

“Heard you were having a bit of trouble with Karli again. Don’t worry, help is on the way, dear.” Your eyes rolled, still not over your argument before.

“You don’t need to be here for this Sharon.” You paused for a second, your left hand resting on your hip. “How did you even hear about this? Sam just now called Bucky, and I guarantee that he didn’t call you first.” Sharon chuckled on her end of the phone.

“You underestimate my reach, Y/N. I’ll meet you outside the building.” Your jaw clenched.

“Sharon, you said you didn’t want to help. What the hell changed that you’re so willing to put yourself in the middle of all this shit?” She was silent on her end.

“I figured you would want me there.” Well, shit what the fuck were you supposed to say to that?

“Lower Manhattan, keep quiet.” You hung up the phone before she could say anything else. You hated not talking to her, and being mad at her was next to impossible. This was your way of saying ‘I forgive you,’ and you knew she would understand. Bucky didn’t say anything as he watched you push your phone into the pockets of your jeans. He could tell something was off, but he could also see that you definitely didn’t want to talk about it right now. Instead he jerked his head for you to follow him, leading you through the streets of Manhattan.

The two of you could see the red lights illuminating the streets, letting you know that you were here. Bucky turned to you, holding his hand out to you, a single earpiece laying in the middle of his palm. As you took it, his hand drifted to your jaw, lifting it to face him. He placed a sweet kiss to your lips before nodding for you to stay behind him. You pulled the brim down on the hat you wore as you stuck to Bucky like glue. He led you through the barricade, one of the soldiers addressing him accordingly.

“Sergeant Barnes.” You made a face beneath your cap, holding back a laugh as Bucky came to a stop in front of you.

“Oh, Sergeant Barnes.” Bucky looked at you over his shoulder as his skin twitched. Your eyes widened. “Does that turn you on, James?” He wasn’t able to answer because of an interruption by Sam’s voice in your ears.

“By the way, I called in some backup.” An agent approached the two of you while Sam kept speaking. “Also, please remember that I can hear everything you say, Y/N. And I don’t need to know what makes the Tin Man tick.” You laughed at Sam’s statement as a twinge of pink ran up the back of Bucky’s neck.

“Excuse me, sir. Are you supposed to be here?” The agent’s hand came up to his hairline. A click sounded as the agent’s face began to glitch. “It’s me.”

“Sharon, what the hell are you doing here?” Sharon pointed an accusatory finger at you.

“Why didn’t you say that to her? The same people who want me in the Raft, want her there too. Or did you forget that?”

“Do I hear Sharon?” Sam asked as he listened in on your conversation.

“Unfortunately.” Bucky grumbled back.

“Hey Sam. I thought I’d get the band back together.” She threw a wink at you as she stepped closer to Bucky. Sam said something else to her, but you had zoned out to watch Sharon. “I hear pardons aren’t all they’re cracked up to be anyway.”

“Depends on the therapist.” Bucky said as he backed away from Sharon and closer to you.

“They’re going to move on the building soon. Be ready.” Sam brought you all back to the task at hand, switching into Captain mode. Bucky nodded to you and Sharon.

“Go with her.” You made a face at him, about to protest when he cut you off. “I don’t care. Stick with her, Y/N. Don’t get arrested though. We’ve got a date.” He wrapped his arm around the front of your waist, like he did at the Wilson house. He pressed a kiss to your temple, staying a little longer than necessary and giving your hip a squeeze before he released you. You heard glass break above your head as Sam crashed through one of the windows upstairs.

“You guys are going to have to do something. Don’t let ‘em out of the building.” You walked behind Bucky to enter the building, the metal detector going off for both you and Sharon. You shared a look with the woman.

“Oops.” Bucky pointed at a guard in tactical gear while he stepped forward.

“He’s one of them. I’ll get the evac.” He left before you could stop him, leaving you and Sharon to deal with the man he pointed at. The both of you followed him to the parking garage, where he was standing post next to two black armored vehicles. The two of you were waiting behind a pillar as you debated what to do.

“We need to stop him.”

“If we take him down now, they’re going to be suspicious and we are going to get arrested. Cool your jets, Y/N.” Your nostrils flared at her tone, crossing your arms over your chest.

“Why didn’t you tell Sam you were already coming?”

“What?” Sharon seemed startled by the question as if you didn’t catch the slip Sam said earlier.

“Sam said that he called in backup. I’m assuming he meant you because we’re the only four people he knows. So why didn’t you tell him you were already coming, or already here or whatever?”

“I didn’t think it was important.” She said dismissively, you could tell she wanted you to drop the subject, but you wanted the truth. Throwing a glance up to the guard, you saw him helping the GRC officials into the vans.

“Damn it Bucky, you had one job.” Bucky ran past you, grumbling a response as he loaded his weight onto a motorbike.

“We aren’t done with this, Sharon.” You pointed at her before she walked away from you. You watched as she ran into the guard then apologized profusely to him. When you caught up to her, she clicked a button in her hand, releasing a noxious gas in the guard’s face. You saw his skin being bubbling and sizzling.

“How’d you do that?” Your eyes hadn’t left the man in the car.

“Mercury vapor, amongst other things.” The two of you continued walking out of the garage, a helicopter started taking off from the helipad on the top of the building.

“Sam, that chopper’s about to take off.”

“Bucky!”

“I don’t fly, man. That’s your thing.” Sam groaned in the earpiece and then you saw him shoot out the window again, chasing after the helicopter. You walked alongside Sharon, following Bucky’s path after the NYPD vans. You got to the barricade just in time to see Scruff holding one of the cars back from falling off a ledge. You were too far away to be able to get to him in time to help, though. You stood next to Sharon as he was ripped away from the back of the car. Your heart dropped as your gaze went to Bucky, who was standing directly underneath the car that was about to crush him.

The crowd around you was holding their phones in front of their faces, at an angle that all they could see was the back of the NYPD van full of GRC officials screaming for help. As the car slipped farther and farther down the platform, your stomach churned more and more. Suddenly, the car stopped, hovering over the opening in the ground. You could make out Sam’s new wings on either side of the car. He pushed forward, lifting the car back to a safe position and then moving away, allowing the crowd to see him fully. The star on his suit glinted proudly as he stood still for a second. The crowd erupted in cheers for the savior. A man to your left cheered for ‘Black Falcon,’ but the man beside him corrected him before you had the chance to.

“No. That’s Captain America.” Red Wing left Sam’s suit to undo the locking mechanism on the back of the van and the GRC officials evacuated the vehicle quickly. Sam turned in the air, removing his shield from his back and throwing it at the Flag Smashers below, knocking them off their feet. At some point, you began moving toward the edge of the platform, ready to help and away from Sharon.

An explosion went off to your right, causing you to search for the source. Puffs of smoke were being thrown in the pit where Sam and Bucky stood and you could see Karli getting away in the confusion. Bucky’s voice rang through your ear.

“Hey. We’re underground. We entered the tunnel on William. Heading south.” You searched for Sharon so you could join up again, but you couldn’t find her. You could hear Sam telling Bucky that the Smashers had split up, and you knew that Bucky would’ve gone with Scruff to keep an eye on him, the unstable bastard. Out of the corner of your eye, you could see Sharon crouched behind a stack of pallets, and your brows furrowed. She began whistling and then you heard Karli’s voice.

“Dovich? Is that you?” Sharon emerged from behind the stack, holding her gun in front of her.

“I’m disappointed in you.” Karli brought her gun up as well, speaking to Sharon as an old friend.

“That’s what I was gonna say.” Sharon brought her hands up in surrender, and your head tilted, what the fuck is going on? “You know, when you first came to Madripoor, you reminded me of a young me. I took you in, gave you an opportunity, and you betrayed me.” Oh hell no.

“Because you wanted to control a world that hurt you.” Karli lowered her gun but all her senses remained in overdrive. “But I wanted to change it. I’m not interested in power or an empire. I have bigger dreams.” Sharon scoffed, looking around, her eyes darting over where you were hidden behind a stack of boxes. Could it really be? Was Sharon really the person that you thought you knew?

“What, like this?” She stepped closer to Karli. “Come back and work for me again. All of you. We can make a difference together.” Sharon was trying really hard to convince Karli, but she wasn’t having it.

“You just want me because you need your muscle back. Without us Super Soldiers, how much power does the Power Broker really have?” Motherfucker. You zoned out a bit, trying to decide what to do. A male voice began speaking in French causing you to refocus.

“Four times, or--” You could see Batroc’s gun pointed at Karli and Sharon’s face was indifferent.

“I don’t do blackmail.” Sharon gripped her gun tighter, raising it quickly to shoot Batroc. Karli panicked and shot Sharon in the process. The gunshots were loud enough to give Sam an idea of where you were all located. You came out from your position, gun gripped in your hand as you stood closer to Sharon. Maybe you could salvage this situation before Sam got here.

“Karli, calm down.” You kept a tight hold on your pistol as you talked. “Look, I get it. You’re scared, but I’m going to need you to put the gun down.”

“I’ll put mine down when you do.” You could hear a slight shake in her voice. You tilted your head at her apologetically.

“You know I can’t do that.” You cast a glance at Sharon who was clutching her stomach, attempting to stop the blood flow. Karli gulped as she raised her gun again.

“Well, I can’t have any loose ends now, can I? You taught me that, Power Broker.” She sneered at a groaning Sharon. A blinding pain began radiating from your shoulder and your hand immediately when to the area. The force of the bullet knocked you off your feet, slamming your head into the ground.

“Shit, what the fuck Karli!” You could make out Sam’s figure coming up from behind Karli. You saw him process Karli standing over one dead body and two injured ones. The wheels began turning and he started speaking.

“So, what’s next, huh? You kill ten this time, then, what, a hundred? Where does it end?” He stepped closer to an agitated Karli. “Please, let me help you.” He kept his voice calm.

“Don’t try and manipulate me.” Karli approached Sam ready to attack. Their fight continued as she pushed Sam backwards.

“I’m not gonna fight you!” She knocked Sam down to the ground, with the swing of a metal bar.

“Stay down!” She shouted at him. You pushed yourself to your knees, adrenaline pumping allowing you to get to Sharon to help hold pressure on her stomach. You watched from over Sharon as Sam rose to his feet, holding his body in a fighting stance.

“I can do this all day.” She launched herself at Sam, throwing his body back into a bunch of cinder blocks. Sam held his shield in front of him, protecting from her punches.

“Fight back!” She shouted as she delivered blow after blow. Sam ducked low, grabbing onto her torso, using his thrusters to send the both of them flying. Karli used the momentum to push off the ground, to bring Sam up to the ceiling. You sat back on your knees, worry lacing your features.

Sam held one of her hands to his chest as she continued throwing the other into his shield. She gripped the top edge of the shield, using it to gain leverage. She pulled her hand away from his chest, tossing his body forward. The shield slipped from Sam’s arm and he laid on the ground, recovering from her attacks. Karli leant down to pick up her gun and you pushed yourself to your feet, ready to tackle her.

She raised her gun, aiming it at a now shieldless Sam. Karli hesitated, staring at Sam before committing to her cause, ready to kill Captain America. You were steadily creeping forward as she debated, but you could see the moment she decided to pull the trigger. Just before she could, a gunshot sounded from behind you. A gasp left your lips as Sam ran to hold Karli.

Your head whipped around to see Sharon leaning against the stack behind her, gun still smoking. Sharon shook her head at you as she holstered her weapon. Sam lifted Karli into his arms and carried her away from the both of you. You stood a good three feet away from Sharon, hand on your gun in the waistband of your jeans.

“When were you going to tell me that you’re the Power Broker.”

“What the hell are you on about now, Y/N.” Your brows raised and your mouth opened in shock.

“I was fucking here when Karli was talking to you, dumbass. Is that why you shot her? ‘Can’t have any loose ends,’ she said you taught her that, Sharon. What the fuck?” Sharon laughed at you.

“You’re imagining things, Y/N.” She rose to her feet and began walking away from you.

“Sharon, don’t fuck with me right now. How long have you been the fucking Power Broker?” You followed her up the tunnel and out to where you could see Sam lecturing a Senator. Sneaking around to a medical bag, you grabbed two pieces of gauze.

“I’m not the Power Broker.” Sharon rolled her eyes at you, leaning against a car behind the ambulances. You were about to say something else when you saw Bucky and Sam approach the two of you. They took in the two of you, an angry look on your face and an annoyed one on hers.

“You’re blocking my light.” Sharon bit out to Sam.

“We got to get you to a hospital.” Sam told Sharon as Bucky walked up to you, pulling your gauze away from your shoulder, checking your bullet wound.

“It’s through and through and you know they aren’t going to listen to you.”

“It’s not the worst thing that’s happened to me all week.” Your eyes glared at Sharon as you spoke. How long has she been doing this behind your back? Someone called for Sam’s attention.

“I think he’s talking to you.” Sharon said, turning away from the newcomer’s view. “Look, I’m sorry for how things ended down there.” Your jaw clenched but you remained silent. “For what it’s worth, the suit looks good on you.” She played a good victim, that’s for sure.

“Alright, can we get out of here, please?” Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, leading you away from the ambulances and news cameras.

“I didn’t forget my promise either, guys.” Sam nodded at the two of you before turning to do his Cap duties. Bucky remained silent beside you, content with just being in your presence again.

He led you to his apartment, bringing you to the bathroom where he pulled out a first aid kit. He placed it on the countertop, placing his hands on your hips and lifting you onto the granite.

“You’re gonna need to take your shirt off.” He flipped the top of the kit open, searching for what he needed.

“Trying to get me naked already? At least take me to dinner first, Sergeant.” You winked as you peeled your shirt off. Bucky glared at you then quickly looked at your shoulder.

“This is going to hurt, just so you know.” He didn’t give you time to say anything else before starting to clean the hole in your shoulder. You hissed as stings radiated from the wound, cursing under your breath as he blew on it. “Alright, here we go.”  Bucky began stitching, returning your body to its former glory in his eyes. “How’d you managed to get shot?”

“I was attempting to get Karli to drop her gun.” You debated on telling Bucky what you learned about Sharon. “Who do you think the Power Broker is?” You asked gauging his reaction. His attention never wavered from his task. He soon finished with the front side of your shoulder, backing away and telling you to face the mirror. Bucky leaned forward, his hips pressing against your ass as he set to work on the exit wound.

“I have my theories. What about you?” You looked at the granite below, tracing the different lines, not answering for a few minutes.

“Mm, not really.” Was it naive to keep the knowledge to yourself? Probably, but this way you could deal with Sharon on your own and not have to involve Captain America.

“Y/N. You lived there for years, you’re telling me that you never encountered the Power Broker? Never worked for him before, procuring a particular art piece?” You shook your head as you felt him start to wrap your shoulder.

“No, I made sure that all my dealings were as clean as the illegal art trade could be.” Bucky nodded, closing the first aid kit and placing it back under the sink. He walked out of the bathroom and into his kitchen, pulling out a bottle of Advil. He shook two tablets into his metal hand and gave them to you along with a water bottle from the fridge.

“Take these and then go lay down. You need to sleep so your body can heal.” You could tell something was bothering him. You reached out to grasp his metal wrist.

“Hey, what’s wrong? Hmm?”

“Nothing. I’ve just got something to do.” You nodded.

“Do you want me to come with you?” His head shook back and forth in denial.

“No, I need to do this alone. I’ll be back soon. Whenever I get back you better be asleep in that bed.” He pointed at the door to his room. He walked up next to you, wrapping his arm around the front of your waist and giving you a kiss on your temple. “I’ll be back, doll. I’ve just got a few things to wrap up.”

He left soon after, leaving you alone in his barren apartment. It was easy to see that he hadn’t made it his home. Probably feeling like he had no reason to, no ties to anyone here. Makes it easier when you have to bug out in a pinch. You walked into his room, searching for a shirt to wear to bed. Finding one of his shirts hanging in his closet, you pulled it over your head after removing your bra. You took off your jeans, trading them for your sleep shorts from your bag.

You climbed into his bed, waiting for his scent to envelope you, but it never came. Has he ever actually slept in this bed? So you laid there, unable to fall asleep, too many thoughts swirling in your brain. How long has Sharon been the Power Broker? Did it start when you first got to Madripoor? Or was it after you were dusted and she was there alone for five years? None of this changed the fact that she needed to be stopped. The amount of influence she had was too great. Your phone buzzed on the nightstand next to the bed, so you rolled over to pick it up.

Court hearing with the Senators tomorrow at 8 A.M. for you. -Sam

You thought about the possibility of being welcome back into your own country and not being treated like a criminal. Thought of the possibility of going to work for the government again. Of working with Bucky and Sam. Of being with Bucky without having to look over your shoulder all the time, and it made you smile. Your phone buzzing brought you out of your trance.

Also, you and Bucky need to come to my house tomorrow. Sarah’s throwing a party, they got the boat finished so we’re celebrating.

That made your smile grow, you were happy for the first time in a long time. The lock of the front door clicked and you jumped out of the bed, grabbing your knife, ready for an attack. You waited behind the door to Bucky’s bedroom, then swung it open. Your hand came up to the intruder's throat and your mind switched out of attack dog mode when you saw Bucky’s raised brow.

“Is there a reason for this?” His eyes were red and he had tear stains on his cheeks. You flipped your knife back down and placed it on top of your jeans.

“Sorry. Are you okay, James?” He shook his head and you opened your arms to him. He walked into your embrace, before exhaling harshly into your uninjured shoulder.

“No, but I will be.” He backed away for a second, taking in your form. “Didn’t I tell you that you were supposed to be asleep when I got back? Also, is that my shirt?”

“Yes, you did and yes, it is. Do you have an issue with that, Sergeant?” He quickly shook his head back and forth, leaning down to pick you up by your thighs and tossing you onto his bed.

“Not at all, doll. You look better in it than I do.” He smiled at you as he stripped down to his boxers before climbing into bed with you. Bucky tossed his arm over your waist, pulling your body into his. He sighed contentedly, basking in the way you smelled.

“Sam got me a hearing for a pardon.”

“Oh yeah? When’s that?” Bucky’s voice was muffled because he had buried his face in your neck, peppering small pecks there.

“Tomorrow morning at nine. Are you going to come?” Bucky thought on it for a moment, before shaking his head.

“I have one more thing to take care of.” You nodded.

“They got the boat fixed and Sarah invited us to the party. Sam says we have to go, it’s tomorrow too. I don’t actually know what time though he didn’t say.”

“Alright, I’ll pick something up to bring after I finish my thing.” You turned to face him, a smirk plastered on your face.

“So, Sergeant does it for you?” You giggled as he groaned and removed his arm from your waist. His hand came up to run through his hair, scratching his head

“Are we doing this right now, Y/N?” You released a cackle of a laugh, nodding in response. “Oh that’s how you’re gonna play this?” He attacked your sides, beginning to tickle you causing you to react accordingly. Somehow, he managed to end up on top of you, in between your thighs. He stopped suddenly to watch as you writhed and giggled.

“What?” You started getting self-conscious, afraid that there was something on your face. Your hands came up to hide your face from him, but Bucky wasn’t having it. He took your hands away from your face by trapping your wrists beside your head. “What? Why are you doing that?” You questioned, only halfway serious.

“You’re just so pretty.” He leaned forward, his lips meeting yours in a gentle kiss that soon turned into something else. His hands traveled back down to your sides, resting on the bare skin showing from your shirt having ridden up. The temperature difference shocked you enough to make you gasp, giving Bucky the perfect opportunity to slip his tongue in your mouth, escalating the situation.

Your hands came up to the back of his head, holding him in the kiss, guaranteeing that he wasn’t going anywhere. They made their way down his body to rest on his shirtless back. He pushed forward with his hips, the fabric separating the two of you becoming increasingly annoying. Bucky pulled back slightly, nudging you to open your eyes. There was a silent interaction between the two of you in that moment, neither of you was ready for anything intense, so the momentum slowed, but the energy level remained.

Bucky’s hands never left your body that night. Exploring and memorizing every ridge, every stretch mark, every piece of you that made you, you. You drifted your fingers over the scarred skin next to his arm, tiny feather touches that made him hum. Falling asleep in his arms was the easiest thing you ever had to do. And for Bucky, being able to hold you as you flutter asleep was beautiful. He watched as your face relaxed and all the tension left your body, allowing yourself to melt into his embrace. Bucky didn’t like to admit it, but he was a touch starved human being. All those years in and out of cryo and isolation gave his body plenty of reason to crave genuine human touch. And to have a human as charming and annoying as you was a dream come true, his doll.

You woke up before Bucky the next morning. You looked over at his face, tranquility lacing his features, unburdened with no glorious purposes. He was just your James. The two of you had separated sometime during the night, so you scooted closer to his frame. His metal arm is thrown across the pillow behind your head, giving you perfect access to his neck and chest. You glanced at the clock across the room, the hands telling you that it was seven thirty in the morning. If you wake him now, you could have at least thirty-five minutes of bliss, plus some heavy petting if you both were feeling cheeky.

You leaned forward towards his neck, placing tiny kisses from the base of his ear to the puckered skin of his shoulder. You were so focused on your task that you didn’t recognize the change in his breathing pattern.

“Good morning, doll.” If you could melt into the mattress, that would’ve done it. His fucking rasp grated you into a fine powder of a human. You hummed at him, not stopping your kisses, instead climbing up to his jaw and then to his lips. He turned his head and playfully laughed. “Nuh-uh, we’ve got morning breath, ya nasty.” You groaned, retreating from his figure completely.

“Fine, we will brush our teeth together and then come right back to this bed and you will love me, damn it.” Bucky laughed at you as you drug yourself into his bathroom. This was the type of bliss you wanted, and you only wanted to share it with a particular metal armed super soldier. It didn’t take long to brush your teeth, and you pushed on Bucky’s back to get him into the bed quicker. When he did get back into the bed, he was grumbling.

“I don’t know why we’re getting back in bed, we’re already up now.” He smiled as you glared at him. Bucky’s back was leaned against his headboard, so you swung your leg over his thighs, straddling his lower half. His hands rested on your waist as you brought yours up to the sides of his face.

“You frustrate me.” You said with a loving smile and tone before pecking his lips softly as he laughed. “What time do you have to leave for your thing?” You played with the strings of your sleep shorts as he answered you.

“Around eight-thirty, it takes me about thirty minutes to get there and it doesn’t open until nine.”

“I’m gonna be leaving around then, too. What do you wear when you’re going in front of senators to be pardoned for stealing a metal frisbee?” Bucky huffed a laugh, pulling you closer to him wrapping his arms around your back. “I’m thinking a crop top that says “Fuck You,” would that be too obvious?”

“Yeah, that one might be a little on the nose.” Bucky checked your shoulder as he spoke. “Your shoulder looks good, no infection, thanks to me.” He plastered a wide smile on his face afterwards. “Do you know what time Sharon’s hearing is?�� You stiffened slightly at the mention of Sharon.

“Uh, no. Sam just told me my time and I haven’t talked to Sharon.” Bucky’s head tilted.

“Everything okay on that front?”

“Not really?” You went back and forth on what to tell him. You didn’t want to give him the extra burden of knowing what Sharon was. “We had a fight a few days ago and neither one of us has cooled off about it, so that’s a bit rocky.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” You shook your head, so Bucky just held you tighter. “Okay, you don’t have to.” He held you for a few more minutes, before backing away. “Alright we need to get ready.” You groaned, slackening your body, making everything about you dead weight.

“No. I don’t wanna.” You sounded like a child.

“You sound like a child.” Oh you whore, get out of my head, butt munch. Bucky said, pushing your body off his. He walked to his closet as you laid spread out like a starfish on his bed. Bucky had already picked out a shirt and put on pants whenever he walked back in and you were still laid on his bed.

“You’re gonna be late.” He leaned over your head, appearing to you upside down. His arms were resting on either side of your face, dropping down he pressed a kiss to your lips. “You’ve got to get up, Y/N.” He went to the other end of the bed, where your feet dangled off the edge. He grabbed your ankles and pulled you, you slid off the bed, taking the comforter with you. “Oh my god, this is pitiful, Y/N. You’re a grown woman!” Bucky shouted at you as he left the room.

The two of you parted ways after you got dressed, but not before Bucky wrapped his arm around the front of your waist and placed a kiss on your temple. You wondered why he did that so much, but you weren’t going to argue with the attention because you loved it. You walked up to the extravagant building that was bustling with people. Everything was white, you always wondered why that was. White represented innocence and America was anything but innocence. You ended up wearing your casual clothes for two reasons. One, you were being pardoned, why couldn’t you be comfortable for that? And two, you had somewhere to go after this and that was just as important as this court meeting to you. Walking into the courtroom, you took in all the faces in the seats. Your name was called immediately, so you approached the podium.

“Ms. Y/L/N, on behalf of the United States Intelligence Community, I’d like to offer you and your family our sincerest apologies.” You wanted to scoff, but you bit your tongue. “You’ve always been an incredible asset to our country. Today, we begin to set things right. We begin to repay some of the debt that is owed to you.” You bowed your head.

“Thank you, Senator. It’s been a long time coming.” You could see the Senator’s jaw clench, not used to being brushed off.

“And we’d like to offer you a full pardon. There might be an opening in your old division. Is that something that you’d be interested in?”

“Actually, Senator. I would like to thank you for that opportunity, but no. I’ll be working with Captain America.” The man’s whole body seemed to twitch.

“You aren’t authorized to make that kind of decision, Ms. Y/L/N.” This time you did scoff.

“Yeah, okay. Well thanks for the pardon.” You tapped the podium twice, leaning to walk away. “This has been great, I really feel like we’ve both said our peace. See ya later, Senator.” You walked out as you heard him calling your name. You pulled your phone out, dialing Bucky’s number.

“Hey doll! How’d court go?” You started walking to where you and Bucky had planned to meet after you got done with your respective tasks.

“Oh great! I’m working with Cap now.” You could almost see Bucky’s face.

“Wow, how’d you manage that?” You smirked.

“I can be very persuasive when I want to be, James.”

“Oh is that so, Y/N?” You could hear his smirk as he spoke. “Maybe you’ll have to be persuasive with me one day.” You laughed.

“James, I don’t have to be persuasive with you.” You caught sight of Bucky walking down the street with a store-bought cake in his hand. You held up your pinky finger wiggling it for emphasis, “I’ve got you wrapped around my finger.”

By the time you got to the marina that docked Paul & Darlene, you were buzzing with excitement. Bucky was giggling at your antics, you were practically bouncing in the passenger seat. As soon as Bucky got out of the car, Cas and AJ latched onto him. He went along with them, playing as if he was going to slam the cake into their faces. You walked past Bucky, hugging everyone who greeted you. Once you reached Sarah, you sat down on the picnic table for a second before taking off again. You stood to the side as you watched Sam take picture after picture with pretty much everyone from town.

Bucky stood next to you, chuckling about everyone’s reaction to Cap being from their hometown. One woman almost knocked Sam flat on his ass when she hugged him, a huge smile stretched over her face. You went back to the table Sarah was at, taking a seat next to her. Suddenly Bucky climbed on top of the table, holding his vibranium arm out with two children dangling off it. He was talking animatedly with his other as he told a story about Sam. You had zoned out just staring at him with the kids.

“You know, this could be you.” Sarah said as she leaned next to your ear.

“What could be?” You made a face at her.

“The kids, the community.” She looked over at Bucky, “That hunk of a man over there.” You slapped her shoulder softly before humming.

“I’ve thought about it, but that’s a two person decision and I don’t think either of us are at a point in our lives to raise another tiny human.” Sarah nodded, her features disbelieving.

“Just don’t let that one get away.” Her finger was pointed at Bucky who was playing with the kids at the edge of the dock. Bucky must’ve felt your gaze on him because he looked up, removing his dark sunglasses to lock eyes with you.

“Oh I don’t plan on it.” You smiled at her. You joined Bucky and Sam as they stood in front of Paul & Darlene, taking in the sunset reflecting on the water. Bucky wrapped his arm around your waist, pressing a kiss to your temple. You definitely don’t plan on it, you thought to yourself as you leaned into his embrace.

**********************

@londonalozzy @marvelofwitch @dramaticwittch @hellmoonsin @jn-wolf @youcancallmeishita @iabrokengirl @veroxloki @liveloudwriteloud @lainternettuale @angelofthetrenchcoats @rosiahills22 @peachymichu @sj-ficrecs @learisa @itsyagirl01 @simply-me-xoxo @ghoststudyy @taina-eny @japanrecs @sinfulhun-collapsedheart @isaordora @shutupstevie @sprsoldierfics @beachbabe925 @afuckingshituniverse @distinguishedgardenroadbonk @littlewhiterose @bcadc42 @tcc-gizmachine @imagines78643258 @mia-j-333

[laketaj24]

The Business II: Sorry Mama

A/N: Sorry, I promised this Monday! But here it is! It is a little lengthy, but I think it’s worth it. Taglist here. Reqs are open! Thanks for reading! Let me know what you think!

Warnings: Smut, daddy kink, a little pettiness -

Part I

Colson Baker Masterlist

Song Inspo: Sorry Mama, Phem and Machine Gun Kelly

His home made you feel as if your tiny loft apartment above the record store was a fuck up. You didn’t even have a front door in Colorado, and here you were being presented a room bigger than your entire apartment. You sat comfortably on the bed, trying to escape a reality that was smacking you in the face.  

“Interview at the radio station in the morning.” You had out your planner jotting down the long list of his upcoming events and practices. “Shit, he’s going to Cleveland next week.” Did you even have your license? Were you able to fly?

“Busy?” He knocked on the open bedroom door and then leaned his tall body against the door frame.

“Uhm, just making a schedule for the next few days.”

“Are you always awkward as hell?”

You scoffed. “Are you always abrasive?”

“Abrasive, no. Honest, generally yes. I’ve been trying to get you alone for two days.”

“I didn’t know.” You lied. His attempts were blatant; he’d bought you coffee every morning, granted you were his assistant, and he’d attempted conversations with you but him being your boss made it hard to define the lines in whatever you two were doing. “What are you trying to get me alone for?”

“To talk,” Colson walked into your room. “How are you liking it?”

“It’s pretty busy; you travel a lot.”

He chuckled. “Yep, all the time. Are you regretting it?”

“No,” you answered. “You?”

“Nah, I mean, you haven’t gotten me coffee or like done anything yet, but I think you’re cool.”

Your mouth dropped, and he burst into laughter. “Can I do anything for you today, Mr. Baker?”

“For me, no. I’m great. But you can come out of this room and go a few places.”

“My wardrobe is shitty. I’ve washed this outfit three times. And it’s not even mine.”

“It’s clear it’s mine,” he laughed again. “Let’s get you some clothes.”

“I’m gonna pay you back.”

“No, the fuck you’re not, meet me downstairs. And you gotta wear your own shoes, you can’t fit mine. I’m like certain you don’t have big feet.”

He disappeared, leaving you in the bedroom by your lonesome. You had been sheltered the past three days, not talking to anyone but Kara, who had nothing good to say. And at this point, it didn’t matter. You just wanted her to stop calling you; she’d left you drunk with a bus full of men and said good luck.

The phone rang again and again; you answered, this time perching it on your shoulder. “Yes.”

“Are you okay?”

“Do I sound distraught to you?”

“You don’t have to be a smart ass! You quit your job. You haven’t come home. I was worried.”

“I’ve got a new job; I’m good. Thanks.”

“Being a whore?” She scoffed. “What’s the job?”

“None of your god damn business, you smart-ass arrogant bitch.” The call ended, and the eyes of Rook landed on you. “What?”

“You okay?”

“Oh, I’m better than fine.” You growled. Perhaps you shouldn’t take your anger out on him, but you did. “Can you move?”

“Certainly.” He smirked.

He moved out of the way, and you headed down the stairs; Colson awaited keys in hand and a smile on his face. “Assistant?”

“Colson.”

“Yeah?”

“Are we leaving?”

“Yeah.” He opened the door for you and waited for you to go first. You lead the way staring at the array of vehicles in the driveway.

 The store didn’t have everything that you wanted, but you were impressed it offered more than what you expected.” You looked at the black dress, slinkily hanging from the manikin. The satin would hug your curves, but it wouldn’t put them out for everyone to see. You liked it. You touched the soft fabric and then picked it up.

“If you get that dress, you gotta wear it home.” He said from behind you.

“Why is that” You two had not addressed the elephant in the room. You’d rode this man for hours straight and would do it again if he looked at you a certain way. But he was now your boss; there were lines to not cross in business. This was an apparent line that should not be crossed.

“I want my clothes back.” He said with a crooked smile. “So you either wear that or go naked?” Colson shrugged and looked in the body-length mirror in front of him. “You can decide; I think U might win either way.”

“What’s the prize that you win?”

“I don’t know exactly; you've been quiet as hell ever since you got off  the tour bus.”

“I don’t remember how we met.” You admitted.

“You remember nothing?” He cocked a brow. Colson looked at you through the mirror; his face is stoic and unmoving. “You were that fucked up?”

“I’m not a good girl.” You answered. “I figured you knew that.”

“I don’t like good girls, so perfect.” He turned to face you and bit his lip. “You really remember nothing?”

“Is it worth remembering?” You teased.

“I’ll give you a refresher.” Colson pointed to the dress. “Put that on.”

“I’ll don’t think I want it anymore.” You brushed past him and looked up. “I’ll find something I like Colson, you just chill. Isn’t that what you told me you were here for? Just to chill.”

“You’re right; take your time.” Colson gave in quickly with a slight nod, and he moved to the men’s part of the store, not paying you any attention.

You were not a good girl; that made telling him no easy. So if you wanted to fuck him, you could fuck him. But, unfortunately, this was not the time; you barely remembered how this all started. Had it not been for the video footage, you’d be fucked. The feelings were all there, you blushed every time he cracked a smile, and yet you stood in a mental chamber confused about what to do.

You picked up a few items and headed into the changing rooms. They were huge, not like the department storerooms you were accustomed to; there was a mirror and a chair. You hung threw your clothes over the door and picked up the first dress. It was bright yellow, not really what an assistant should wear. You didn’t care. You slid it over your hips, jumping once to get over your ass, and then looked in the mirror. Yellow always looked good on you. You shook your head yes and smiled. Shit…, you were beautiful, hair pulled a messy ass bun and glasses on the tip of your noses, and you were the baddest bitch you’d ever seen in your eyes.

It was a yes for the yellow dress. You tossed it over the door creating a mental yes pile for yourself. It took you about ten minutes to try on every dress. Three yes and two no, it worked for you. Maybe he would find a normal store so you could have leggings; there was no way in hell you were wearing dresses the entire gig. You shimmied out of the last dress and tossed it over the door, and it disappeared, snatched down the moment it hit the door. Then you realized… no clothes were hanging there. Every piece you’d draped over was gone. You stood with your panties in bra with a dropped mouth. The awe was real; he got you. The sneaky man fucking left you helpless.

“Colson!”

“What’s up?” He asked innocently.

“Where the fuck are my clothes?”

“Oh, my clothes? They are in the car.”

“Oh my god! You asshole. Give me my clothes.” Your heart dropped as you heard his laughter, and then you joined him. “This is not how you fuck me again.”

“It is, however, how I get you to try this dress on for me.” He hung the black dress over the door. “Please?”

“Fine!”

“Thank you, Y/N. You are so difficult.”

���Mark my words, you sneaky little bastard.”

“Little?”

You snickered. “Big sneaky cocky bastard.”

“Better,” Colson said. “What words am I marking?”

“If you get this pussy… it won’t be today.”

“Is that a promise?”

“Yes.” You took the dress from him and started to get dressed. He somehow guessed your size appropriately, and you didn’t even care; you were impressed. The dress felt as good as you imagined earlier. It fit you right, hitting a few inches above your knee, accentuated your ass, and making your breast pop. This was a club dress for sure, but here you were, walking out the dressing room with it. Colson awaited you in the front of the store, bags in his hand and a wicked smile on his face. “You like it?”

“Fucking love it.” He shook his head and pointed to the clerk. “She’s fine as fuck, right.”

The woman blushed and pulled her hair behind her ear. “It looks good on you!” She beamed.

“Don’t lie; she’s fine as hell.” He walked over to you, draping his long arm around your shoulders. “You like it?”

“I do.”

“Road trip.” He took your hand in his and pushed the front door open to the store, and lead you out. “Are you hungry?”

“Starving.”

“Good, I could eat too.” The edged sentence hit your pussy immediately, but he just kept walking to the car, ignoring the few people who recognized who he was and opened the door for you. They kept their distance, but the vultures were out and clicking their cameras.

Colson hopped into the car and pointed to your seatbelt. “Buckle up.”

“You're not worried about them?”

“Who?”

“The paparazzi”

“Oh, Nah, they got a job to do. Let them do it.” He shrugged.

“They’ll know about me.”

“Don’t worry about that.” He merged into traffic and sighed. “They’ll know you’re my assistant tomorrow at the interview.”

“Right!” You exhaled. Small reality check, you swallowed and looked into the bag. “You have a busy tomorrow lined up, you know that?”

“I do; you do too.”

“Are you sure about having me as your assistant? I can go home; you don’t have to keep being nice to me because a groupie made it back to Cali with you.”

“Nah, you act like you don’t even like me.” He shot you a loo a sped the car up, “You got nothing to worry about, right?”

“That’s right.”

 He got food for the both of you, but he didn’t head back to his place. Instead, you were outside of the city driving up the hills of California; you’d always wanted to come here, so you took in the scenery while mentally going over the schedule again for tomorrow. Colson's hand rested on your thigh, the calloused pads of his fingers stroked playfully up and down your legs. You liked the feeling. It had been a while since you’d felt some guitarist hands on your body. Apparently, he played it more than you gave him credit. He gripped you occasionally and dug into your flesh. Sensual act for someone who had a new girl every three days.

“You’re from Colorado,” He asked as the car slowed at the top of the hill. The plateau gave a good view of the city that thrived a few miles over.

“No, I’m actually from Texas, but I left when I was twenty. My parents were hella strict.” You peeked into the bag of food and grabbed one of his fries.

“Colorado served you well.”

“I just moved there, I went to New York, got a really good job, lost it, and then moved to Colorado with my mom and her new husband. I hate it.”

“Well, good you don’t live there anymore.” Colson parked the car, let his seat back, and took the bag from you.

“You say th-,” Your phone rang. Your mother’s face flashed before you, and you rolled your eyes. “Give me a moment.”

Parents were needed; you knew this, but your mother had criticisms, and if you knew Kara, she’d called your mom to tell her about the last few days. No, you had not answered her calls, and you didn’t intend to deal with it now, but if you knew your mother correctly, she was two seconds from declaring you are missing.

“Hello.” You answered the Facetime call, and your mother did not look impressed, just worried.

“Y/N.” She shook her head. “Where are you? Did you quit your job? Haven’t you been home in days? Are you okay?’

“I am fine.” You shook your head. “I have a new job now, and I will be home soon. I promise.”

“With that, whatever the fuck he is?” She stared at you.

Colson leaned in the frame, “Performer. Hey Miss Y/L/N.”

“I am married now; that’s not my name.” She cut daggers into him. “Walk away from him; I would like to talk to you alone.”

You sighed, “Be back.” You stepped out of the car and walked a few steps from him. You hoped he wouldn’t hear your mom act a complete ass on the line, but she was about to be loud. “Mom.”

“Don’t fucking mom me,” She hissed. “Don’t do this,” She paused. “Come home, now. Tell that tug to give you a ride, and maybe they’ll hire you back at the gas station.”

“You really think your daughter is only worthy of a gas station?” Colson appeared behind you.

“Give me a second.”

“Hang up on her.” He shrugged. “Conversation was over before it started; she didn’t give you a chance to explain anything. She just assumed you were out whoring?” He raised his brow at you. “Conversation was done five seconds ago; hang up.”

“Tell that boy to stay out of this,” She added.

“Mom, I got a job as his assistant.”

“A whore?”

“Okay,” You tried to block her assumption ut. “I will call you back later.”

“Yeah, away from him.” She ended the call.

“You know how to make shit worst!” You stared at him.

“Or better. Fuck her, fuck that little ass gas station. Fuck her calling you a whore.” Colson took your hand and spun you around once; the move resembled dancing. You felt like you were floating; he twirled you back to your chest.

“I didn’t know you were this sweet.” You said, looking up at him.

“I have my moments.” He admitted. He swayed with you. “They’re not as rare as people think.” Colson sighed and lifted you from the ground easily. Your feet dangled as he walked you back to the car and placed you on the hood. “I think this is going to be good for you, so don’t worry about the shit that’s going on back home; this is a good thing.”

“You keep saying that.”

“I keep meaning that shit too.” He stood in front of you and lifted your chin. “You really don’t remember that fucking kiss.”

“Which one,” You smiled.

“This one,” Colson’s lips met yours, and your breath disappeared as did the need to breathe, and you didn’t instantly remember, but the butterflies were familiar. He cradled your head to give him more access; his tongue dipped into your mouth and met yours. You moaned, tasting him, and fought the urge to wrap your arms around him and moving this along faster.

You pushed him back a little and took a quick breath. “It was that good?”

“Um, that was better.” His face turned a shade of red. “Fuck.”

You two met again, this time with no intention of stopping. Colson’s long fingers moved up the line of your thighs, pulling the soft fabric with it; you raised your ass from the hood of the car and unbuckled his belt. “What’re you gonna do to me?” You whispered.

“Make you forget who you are,” He whispered.  

Were you going to fuck him on the hood of his car? Absolutely. You tugged at the seam of his boxers, tugging on the elastic, and he pulled them down enough for him to spring out from them. Eagerly you stroked him from hilt to tip, and he pushed you back on the hood of the car, fuck warming you up… you were wet enough. He gripped your thighs, pushing them open and running his fingers down the slit of your pussy before he slammed into you.

The sun had started to set, but if anyone wanted a show of you getting fucked they had it, legs open and back arched from the car. He suppressed a growl fucking you slowly. He took pleasure in watching your face contort each time his length went into you. “You’re perfect.”Colson’s tone dropped to a whisper, but that fucking whisper was enough. You wanted to sit up and ride the fuck out of him.

He hit deep, the curve of his cock hitting the right time you bucked against him, spasming, and he’d only been in yu a few minutes. “How many are you gonna give me today?” Colson asked.

“How many do you want?” You rested on your elbows and gave him a smile.

“Everything you fucking got.” He slid out of you and pulled you closer to him, kissing you before he turned you around and bent you over the car and slapped the round globes of your ass. Colson played for a second, slipping one finger into you and then another. You mewled, wiggling your ass against his war cock, coaxing him to slide into you. He played into it, rubbing the head of his cock across your entrance and then sliding back into you.

Your teeth clamped onto your bottom lip, and you were flushed, relishing his movements. He pushed into you, rounding his and pulling you back onto him. “Look at that pretty pussy.” He hovered over you. “How she’s fucking shaking for me; I think she remembers who daddy is… Let me see if I can make you.”

Was that a challenge? His hand traveled down your back to the line of your ass, and he pushed a finger into you while he continued to fuck you. His pace left you winded, but the feel of the pressure of him being in both had you elated. “Fu-,” You bit your tongue.

“Y/N.” He sung and then slammed into you once more. His finger curved, and you screamed. “Say it for me, call me daddy.”

“Daddy, don’t stop.” You all but sang, and Colson reacted accordingly, making his fingers move expertly to apply just enough pressure, and his cock hit just the right angle. Of course, you fell apart under him, but he didn’t stop, nor did you want him to. You could handle this if this is what he wanted from you.

The thought of him stopping hadn’t crossed his mind; he was too enchanted in watching your ass bounce on him and feeling the shockwaves of the orgasm flow through your pussy onto his cock.

 The evening passed seamlessly; you had worked up an appetite, so you ate, talking about tomorrow, and he drove back to the house. The house was quieter than usual, TVs could be heard, but everyone had separated. “Get some sleep.” He said, opening the front door for you. “we got a busy ass day tomorrow.”

“Will do, good-,” Colson’s lips met yours once more. “Night.”

“Night.” He took the bags from you. “See you tomorrow.”

Your mind raced as you walked up the steps to your room. This was going to be more difficult than you intended, fuck blurred lines--- you could barely see straight.

Taglist: @taytayize123 @ctrlszn @supernaturalvikingwhore @jae-writes-fanfiction @bigsisbria @placeoffreedom @kyla-queen @missdforever @gottatoxicattitude @bang-kim-bap @msreshel @blowmymbackout @titty-teetee @strawberry-skyes @mauvecherie @savageiz @luci-her @littlelovebug98 @babyboy-cody @hellshedevil @daddyavesxx @crystalbaby12  @jeonsblackgf @fangirl199812 @thatonegrl-1 @isyoongi @honestsycrets @lifeisabitchandsoareyou @cartoonlover101 @therandomthoughtsofmsparker @bowwowzer37 @fandomfic-galore @mayaslifeinabox @hangovercurse  @szaplsdrop @heavenly1927 @mvrylee @canyoubuymetoast @littlelovebug98 @nightgirl250 @psychiccreationtaco @stupendoushairdocloudmuffin @aliendemigods @triplexdoublex @placeoffreedom @amorestevens @brightblaqkkheaven​ @pettyvxbes​ @pacmacs-macs @lostaurorax​

[inkandpen22]

California Dreamin’ (2/?)

Pairing: Topper x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1k

Warnings: underage drinking, mild violence, drug use 

Part Summary: Y/N and Topper have lunch together and later attend the Cameron’s party. 

Masterlist

Y/N

After surfing for most of the morning, I've grown tired. The waves here are so different than in Malibu. I run out of the water onto the sand, tossing my hair to the side. I hadn't noticed Topper on the beach in the middle of a morning run until I return to my belongings. He slows to a stop once he reaches my stuff. 

"Morning," I greet with a warm smile. 

"I could see you down the beach. You're really good!" 

"Thanks! Years of practice." I giggle. 

He raises a brow. "What are you up to later?" 

"Well, there's the party at the Camerons since Ward and Rose are gone for the weekend. You're going right?" I ask. 

"I was thinking of making an appearance." He remarks wittily. "You free until then?" 

I shrug. "As a bird." 

"Would you want to get some coffee or something?" 

A faint blush forms on my cheeks. "Sounds good." 

____________________________________

Topper

Sitting at the small table outside of the cafe, I can't help but admire her as she talks about California. All changed out her bathing suit and into a cropped Boston band T-shirt and ripped up Daisy Dukes. Half of her hair is tossed up into a bun, the rest hanging loose in waves over her shoulders. She doesn't notice my absentmindedly listening as I analyze every inch of her, even her white Converse high tops, the laces so stretched that she can tie them around her ankles multiple times. 

The waitress interrupts my daze and takes our orders. 

"Regular black coffee and farmer's breakfast please," I request. 

"Lavender tea and granola acai bowl, please. Thank you so much." Y/N smiles, handing her menu to the girl. 

What the hell is acai anyway? Does anyone know? Because I don't. 

When her eyes meet mine, she giggles. "What? Are you gonna start calling me Granola Girl?" 

"I didn't even know how to pronounce acai until you said it," I admit. 

"You should try it! It's very good for you!" She encourages. 

I make a 'yuck' sound and cower. "Isn't it purple?" 

"Maybe... Don't let that scare you!" She giggles. "Branch out, Thorton." 

"Okay, I'll try it, but only because you're peer-pressuring me!" I laugh. 

After a few minutes, my coffee and her tea arrive. Almost immediately, she reaches for the bottle of honey on the table and squeezes some in. 

"Did you know it takes bees almost a month to produce honey?" She asks. "A little fun fact."  

I glance up from stirring my coffee right as she brings her honey-coated finger to her mouth and begins to suck on it. Her eyes meet mine innocently, not suspecting of my thoughts. Fuck me. 

I swallow hard and quickly return my focus to picking up my coffee. 

"Sarah mentioned a party happening at The Boneyard tomorrow. What's that?" She asks with furrowed brows. 

"It's uh... it's place on The Cut," I stammer, still caught off guard by the honey incident. 

She frowns as takes a sip from her tea. "Why is it called 'The Cut'?" 

"It's where Pogues live. It's just the less valuable part of the island," I do my best to describe. 

"Pogues?" 

"The people from The Cut." 

"Do you all from your neighborhood have a name?" 

"They call us Kooks." I shrug. 

"At least it's fair. Sounds rather West Side Story," she teases with a giggle.

The waitress appears with our food. My plate is rather basic, All-American breakfast. Y/N's is a symbol of the trendy West Coast. In summary, we fit our stereotypes. 

I'm hesitant to say what I'm thinking, but Y/N doesn't know the island as I do. She hasn't met any Pogues and should be careful. "You should stay away from Pogues. They have a tendency to steal and lie." I advise. 

Her face falters, apparently, they don't have stuff like where she's from. "Oh... wow... noted." 

"Yeah, I would stay close to Rafe or me tomorrow night," I suggest, genuinely concerned for her and partially for my own benefit. 

She smiles, taking a bite of her smoothie bowl. "Will do."

"Our friends will be there so you should be okay, but Pogues will be too. Tourons too."  

She laughs. "Is that what you call tourists?" 

I suppress a grin and drag my tongue across my lower lip. 

"So I'm a touron?" She questions with amusement. 

My eyes grow wide and impulsively, my hand travels across the table to land on hers. "No, no! Not you!" I then notice my hand resting on hers. Oh geez, I'm messing this up! "Oh.. uh.. sor-" 

Calmly, she glides her hand over, allowing our fingers to interlock. She brings them down to rest on her lap under the table. "You're fine, Topper!" She giggles. "You apologize too much. Relax. It's just me." 

A smile forms on my lips and I nod. She's right, it's her, she's not scary. She's kind and understanding, more relaxed than anyone I've ever met. 

"Here, try this." She scoops up some of her smoothie bowl, picking up some granola and fruit on top. She guides the spoon into my mouth and I try it. 

I nod, processing the experience. "Okay, I'm a fan." 

"I knew you would be," she grins, giving my hand a faint squeeze. 

The remainder of the meal, on the walk to the car, throughout the drive, and until I dropped her off, we hold hands. It felt so natural and right, as though our hands were made for each other. It was difficult to let go, to say the least. 

__________________________________________________

Well into the party at the Cameron's, Rafe challenges me to jump off the roof into their pool three stories below. Kelce gets him fired up, encouraging the challenge. Y/N and Sarah innocently stand nearby on the balcony, smoking a joint together. I would be lying if I said I haven't been watching Y/N all night. That yellow bikini should be illegal. 

"I'll do it if Y/N does!" I compromise. 

Rafe grins wickedly and I instantly regret what I said. He gets up from his spot on the couch and jogs over to the girls. He rests his hand on Y/N's lower back, dangerously close to her ass. I swallow hard, doing my best not to make a scene. As they talk and laugh, he glides his arm around her. The way she looks at him so intently, makes me wonder if it's solely friendly. Then again, Y/N has the ability to make everyone feel like they're the most important person in the world. 

"Oh, you're on!" I hear her tell him. 

Rafe takes her hand and brings her over. "She's down!" 

The next thing I know, Y/N and I are standing on the roof of the Cameron's house. 

"Scared?" I ask her as I peer down at the pool below. People stand with their heads tilted back, cheering for us to jump. 

She shrugs. "It's just like cliff jumping. I do it all the time back home." She slips her hand into mine. 

My eyes flicker down to our interlocked hands and an idea pops into my head. I tuck my arm behind her legs and scoop her up. 

She instantly flings her arms around my neck and squeals. "Topper!" 

"Ready?" I chuckle. 

"On three!" She giggles nervously. 

I nod and begin to count. "Okay! One! Two!" I jump and cheers ensue louder. 

Y/N screams and clings to me. Her face is hidden within the curve of my neck. Within seconds, the cool pool water consumes us. We break apart and I kick to the surface. When I pop out of the water and wipe my eyes, I find Y/N close by. She swims over to me, smiling brightly. I snake my arm around her and guide her legs around my waist. 

I point to her and announce to the cheering crowd. "This is the coolest girl in the OBX!" 

________________________________

Rafe

The party has died down, the sun threatening to rise in two to three hours. Topper and Kelce finish a game of pong outside and Sarah crashed a while ago. I watch dazed as Y/N takes another hit from the joint and hands it to me. She sits back onto the couch and leans into my side, resting her head on my shoulder as I take another hit. Once there's nothing left but ash, I set it down on the ashtray on the side table. I rest my now free hand on Y/N's knee as she rests against me.  

"So soft..." I mumble, rubbing my thumb over her skin. 

Y/N rises off my shoulder, resting her chin against it. I turn my head, meeting her red and dilated eyes. She smiles softly at me. 

I lift my other hand to caress her cheek. "So beautiful..." 

She stares into my eyes and I'm left wondering what's going on inside her head. My eyes flicker down to her lips and I want to kiss her. Following my instincts, I lean in. 

Shaking her head, she presses a hand to my chest and moves away. "Rafe, don't." 

I persist, scooting closer to her. "Why not? It's not like you're still with Nate," I chuckle. 

"We're friends..." She reminds me. 

I press against her shoulder to urge her down onto the couch. "We could be more." I lean in to kiss her again. 

Within seconds, Y/N's palm flies across my cheek with a smack. "Jesus Rafe! I said no!" 

I hiss, my hand covering up my cheek. 

Y/N takes the opportunity to slip out from under me. She storms off toward the staircase. I slam my fist against the back of the couch. Damn, that slap fucking hurt. She really knows how to hit! Suddenly, Topper and Kelce appear from outside, laughing and talking about the party. I pull out my vile of coke from my pocket, ready to release the pain in my face. 

"Where did Y/N go?" Topper chuckles as they plop down on the couch with me.  

"I don't know, bed? Who gives a fuck," I grumble, pouring myself a new line on the table. 

“What’s with the attitude?” Kelce questions. 

“Nothing, man. Just don’t care about her.” I hide behind a disdained expression. 

________________________________

Masterlist

Tags: @starkeythinker @bethii1 @thegunnerkelly @cc13723things@hockeybabe87 @jolomez @plutooryectors

[nancypullen]

Moon Dance

Last night was a marvelous night for a moon dance (I love that song!) and because our house is situated in a way that doesn't allow for my favorite past time of moongazing (it breaks my heart) we took a little drive. Winding up, down, and around on narrow country roads, we arrived at the Choptank Marina to watch the Strawberry Moon come up over the water. Lest you think that this was in any way a romantic outing, think again.

I sat on a bench while the mister snapped away. Someday I'll bury him with that camera. I think he'd rather lose a leg than his trusty Sony. My little phone camera could not do justice to that big, beautiful moon, so I'm sharing Mickey's photo.

After plenty of time admiring bella luna, we decided to head home. Since the moon didn't really rise until after 9, it was pushing 10 o'clock when we started the car. The older I get the later that feels. Taking the same winding roads on the way back, Mickey asked if I wanted to stop at a farm stand full of summer squash that I'd noticed on the way in...when there was daylight. I scoffed and said that it was too dark and I'd probably get shot. He assured me that he'd just point the headlights at the stand and I'd be fine. I've seen enough Dateline episodes to know a set up when I see one. Still, the lure of a big bag of yellow squash was too tempting. The stand is on the honor system, so you just put your cash in a metal lock box. Mickey lit me up with the headlights and I got busy stuffing a bag with pretty crooknecks. Our car radio filled the night with 80's tunes and the price list made me feel like it really was the 80's again. Cheap!

With the moon on one side and Mickey on the other, I was center stage. I snapped that pic after hopping back in the car. Beyond the veggie stand there's a field of u-pick flowers, mostly zinnias and sunflowers. You could grab dinner and a centerpiece here! Anywho, this morning after breakfast I cooked up about half the squash.

This is just good ol' southern stewed yellow squash and I love it. All you do is dice up a sweet onion, throw a 1/4 cup of butter into a deep skillet, and sauté the onion with plenty of salt and pepper. When the onion is tender just toss in your squash, clap the lid on, and let it simmer for about twenty minutes. No water necessary, squash is one of those veggies that is mostly water anyway. I had a bowl for lunch and it was delicious. Since the squash is so healthy ( vitamins A, B6, C, as well as potassium, fiber, magnesium, folate, riboflavin, phosphorus, and manganese) we'll just pretend that the butter doesn't count.

1/4 cup (1/2 stick) unsalted butter

2 cups chopped sweet onion

3/4 tsp. kosher salt

3/4 tsp. freshly ground black pepper

2 lb. yellow squash, sliced 1/4-in. thick (about 7 small) So simple!

My mother-in-law makes really good stewed squash because she takes the time to brown her squash a bit in a skillet first. I'm too lazy for that, though - and my method works just fine. That's what's shaking here on this steamy Saturday night. Mickey is watching the Braves lose to the Yankees and I'm tapping away on my laptop, talking to you. Life in the fast lane. It's not particularly glamorous or romantic, but he's willing to shine his headlights on me while I stuff squash into a bag on a lonely country road - if that's not love I don't know what is. I'm positive that if a shot rang out or if Bigfoot grabbed me he would have immediately floored it to get help. He'd probably write a lovely obituary for me too. No one would be surprised that I died while gathering food. Well, it's that time of night where I can't stand having this bra on for one more minute - so I'll head upstairs for a bath and a book. I'll meet you back here tomorrow to talk more nonsense. Thanks for listening. Sending out plenty of love, hope you feel it. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

[myeternalsin]

Dance With Me (Tech X F!Reader)

Up next, It's the loveable and handsome clone with such brilliant intelligence; Tech! Get ready for some feels~

Summary: Tech sneaks back to (Y/N)'s apartment after a stressful mission with his brothers, what is it that she's doing?

Word Count: 1009

Warning: No warning really, a little angst, and you'll probably get some major feels!

“What are you doing cyar’ika?” The tall technician inquired, putting his helmet down on the end table as he watched (Y/N) twirling around in the living room in her light yellow sundress while adjusting his glasses. He knew (Y/N) was home once he saw the discarded pair of brown leather wedges tossed to the side when he entered her apartment.

The soft piano music resonated around the apartment. The ruffles from her dress lightly graced her legs as she continued to sway to the music. She dragged a pedicured foot along the carpeted floor, pretending to dip her foot in some sort of imaginary water as she didn’t bother to look up at him. “I’m dancing silly, what does it look like?”

Tech rolled his eyes and sighed, “Of course you're dancing dear, I should have phrased my question better. What I meant was why are you dancing in the middle of the living room? You don’t even have the proper shoes to dance in. What exact dance are you trying to execute?”

(Y/N) giggled as she did a pirouette, the sundress swirling around with her. “I’m not trying to recreate any type of dance Tech, I’m just dancing.” She held out her left arm bent and her right arm straight, pretending she had an imaginary partner now leading her though a dance.

“What's the point of that?” Tech asked as he continued to watch her with curiosity, taking a couple of steady steps into the open entryway. He always did find her quite fascinating when she could be her true authentic self. She was never afraid to show how she felt, it was the opposite of him at the moment.

(Y/N) smiled as she continued to waltz about the room. “No point really dear, I just felt like doing so.” She made one final twirl around, the full skirt of the ruffles on her dress flared out in a magnificent fluttering blur of brilliant yellow. Like a ray of sunshine in this war period.

(Y/N) blushed bashfully as she finally stood still in front of Tech. Her face flushed a rosy pink as she tucked a piece of hair behind her ear. He was at the edge of the carpet leading to the living room, and he stood a couple of paces away. He still had his plastoid armor on, and looked as handsome as ever.

(Y/N) held out her arms “Dance with me, please.” She whispered her plea, trying not to spook him. She looked at him through her lashes and took a couple of cautious steps towards him. “Just pretend the world doesn’t exist.”

Tech shook his head, “No, no. That’s not a good idea.” He backed up a couple of paces and was about to walk away when she wrapped her arms around his midsection.

(Y/N) looked up at Tech with pleading eyes as she pouted. Giving Tech the best puppy loth wolf eyes she could fabricate. “Why not?”

“Well, I don’t think I’ve ever danced before,“ Tech chuckled. He then waved his arms about and shook his head. ``I wouldn’t even know what to properly do!”

Tech’s eyes stilled as he saw the sparkle in her eyes. Those beautiful eyes. He always found himself on more than one occasion studying those irises.

(Y/N) ran her hands up along the sides of his arms, to his neck, and rested her hands on his cheeks. “You don’t have to do anything perfectly dear,” (Y/N) looped her arms around his neck. “just sway with me.”

(Y/N) grabbed his hands and placed them on the small of her back as she also brought her arms back to his neck. She rocked her body side to side, lifting one foot off the ground and then the other. Tech's arms were stiff, but soon relaxed as he got into the rhythm of moving back and forth on his feet.

The rich music of the deep alto piano still rebound along the apartment walls, and soon turned into a soft smooth soprano as the music faded in and out. Except the two weren’t truly paying attention to the melody in the room. Too focused on their true feelings for each other.

(Y/N) laid her cheek against his chest and closed her eyes, embracing the feel of her secret lover's hands on her back. Just knowing that he stood in front of her unharmed melted her heart. All of her worry and anxiety secretly washed away as she remembered hearing the door open when he arrived.

(Y/N) had to be strong and put a front up for Tech. She needed to be his light in these dark times of war. She needed to show that Tech didn’t have to lose sleep over her. She wanted to be his rock. However, it was Tech who felt quite the same.

He was proud that his brothers completed their mission, and that he could come back to her in one piece. He needed to put up a front with her as well. Show that the missions he went on weren’t that big of a deal, especially with his intellect.

It was that first time they kissed on the Havoc Marauder that Tech realized that he was starting to fall for her. Now in this moment just rocking with her in his arms being grateful to be in her presence, he needed to savor this moment. If anything were to happen to (Y/N), he felt scared. For once in his life, he had no idea what he would do.

(Y/N) looked up at Tech and cupped his cheeks once more, drying away the silent tears that slipped down his face. She leaned forwards and softly kissed his lips. Their lips moved together, reassuring the other. Letting the other know that everything was alright. That one day, this war would truly be over.

And after thinking of that, Tech knew there was no going back.

He was hopelessly in love with (Y/N).

My HEART!!! You have no idea how much I'd love to have somebody like Tech in my life! *sigh* Ah, just the feels man! I feel so happy and warm after writing this! Let me know what you guys think! Bad Batch Request are still open, and I'll be starting on them tonight! I'm hoping to post the first one tomorrow before work.

~MyEternalSin