#so intensely embarrassing to be an adult and having the memory of telling your friend group in HS to wait for you while you put your stuff | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

midnight-dreamerness · 3 years ago

Text

It’s Always Been You

(This is NOT my gif. Credit to the creator <3)

summary: Jay stopped speaking to you unexpectedly and then you see each other at Molly’s.

pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader

warning: Curse Words??

word count: 2.4k

A/N: theres a slight mention of the reader being plus size…

You never thought you’d be replaced. But in came Erin Lindsay and suddenly she was all he talked about. And eventually he didn’t call anymore. He didn’t pull up in your driveway with pizza and a pack of beer out of the blue anymore. There were no Saturday movie nights or Monday monopoly despite you both knowing he always won.

You were lonely. After meeting Jay in high school, it was the two of you against the world. And when he left for the rangers, you were lost. But he came back to you. And you were the happiest you’ve ever been. But this time was different. You were losing him, falling right between your fingers right In front of your eyes and there was nothing you could do was watch from afar as he loved someone else and ached to be that someone.

Erin was a good person with a good heart. She was good for him. But you couldn’t help but hate that you couldn’t give him everything she could. Whatever that was you didn’t know. Maybe it was because you were bigger. Maybe it was because you were different. Whatever it was, you didn’t want to know. It would only break you in the end.

You tried to go out but it seemed the ghost of him followed you wherever you went.

You glanced at him for a moment, noting the stubble covering his jaw and remember how much you ran your hands over it giggling when he spun you around in the middle of his apartment.

You both were closer than normal best friends. You slept in the same bed and cuddled countless times. But every time you woke you he was gone.

Your friend snapped her fingers in front of your face with a laugh.

“You’re staring,” she commented, sniggering. You grimaced, biting at your lip and removing your intense gaze from the man across the room.

He was with a group of people but his arms were laying across the chair of the girl you wanted to hate but couldn’t.

“I hate nice people,” you grumbled, only making your friend laugh more. You ended up grinning, her laugh being contagious.

“Hello, ladies.” You now noticed the blonde who had walked up to your table, recognizing him from Jay's group from across the room.

“Hello, handsome,” you flirted, resting your chin on the palm of your hand, fluttering your eyes at him. He chuckled and ran a hand through his hair.

“I’m Adam. I couldn’t help but notice you from across the room. Can I buy you a drink, both of you?”

“You can buy her a drink. I’m going to talk to the guy who's been eyeing me since I walked in. Good luck!” Your friend exclaimed and started to walk away but turned around and added, “Oh! She likes the fruity stuff. Berry Lemonade Margarita is her favorite. Thank me later.” She gave the blonde, Adam, a wink before finally walking away. You place your hands in your hands, a blush settling over you cheeks.

“Berry Lemonade Margarita it is.” Adam said walking to the bar. You sat there and chuckled, shaking your head. You could feel eyes on you, so you looked up and met his eyes. His hand had fallen from behind Erins chair, a sad smile on his face. You looked away letting out a sigh. Adam was back in a matter of minutes, sliding your drink in front of you and settling in the seat in front of you, a glass of what looks like Whiskey in his hands.

“Thank you,” you muttered, giving him a small shy smile.

“You don’t talk much do you?”

“When I open my mouth I usually embarrass myself.” He only laughs, shaking his head.

You ended up talking for a good twenty minutes about anything and everything. He was easy to talk to but you couldn’t help but ache for another man who would glance at the two of you from across the room ever so often. He hated it. He hated watching Adam making you laugh. It was really his own fault. He has no right to be angry or jealous. But he was. All he wanted to do was march right over there and rip him from that seat. Instead, though, he watched from afar, detaching himself from the conversation his friends were having. You brightened up the room as soon as you entered, his eyes on you as soon as you stepped foot into Molly’s.

“You know Jay?” Adam asked, leaning back against the booth. You nodded, swirling the straw in your half empty drink.

“We were best friends. Things happen, though. People change.”

“Well you're glancing at him every couple of minutes so apparently something happened there.”

“Oh fuck, Adam. I’m sorry,” your shoulder slump as you feel the guilt build inside you. He simply laughs and shakes his head.

“No need to apologize. Does he know?”

You wanted to ask him what he meant but you knew. So you shook your head, “No.”

He purses his lip. “Have you thought about telling him?”

“Only a thousand times. Erin is good for him, though.”

“If Jay wanted to be with Erin he would’ve made it official. So clearly something is holding him back.”

You hated how your chest filled with hope that maybe he held back because of you. But he left you. Stopped calling. Stopped texting. Stopped everything.

“C’mon,” Adam said standing up, glass in one hand and the other held out for you to take. You gave him a curious look but took his hand anyway and grabbed your drink before he could pull you away. When you noticed the direction you both we’re headed you tried to stop but it was no use. The two of you had gained the attention of the entire group.

“Hey, this is my girl, (Y/N). This is Kevin, Kim, Erin, and Jay.” Adam said, pointing them all out with their name. You gave them all a shy smile and a wave. Anxiety filled you and you suddenly felt sick to your stomach.

“Oh no, has he talked your ear off yet?” Asked Kevin who only made the rest of them laugh, aside from Jay, who only glaring at him. He hated the way the words “his girl” fell from Adam's lips.

Your shoulders dropped as the anxiety left and you let out a small laugh.

“He’s getting there.”

You didn’t even have it in you to look into his eyes. You tightened your grip on Adam's hand, who simply nudged you towards the empty spot next to an African American man, who you now know as Kevin. Adam sat next to you, sending you a wink before throwing his arm over your chair.

“Truthfully. She loves me,” Adam says shrugging. You take a sip of your drink, eyes widen, a laugh nearly falling from your lips.

“I’m just waiting on my chance to run,” you suddenly spoke. There was a slight pause before laughs were heard around the table and a whine came from Adam.

“Babe, that is so mean,” Adam moaned, holding his hand over his heart as if you broke it.

You simply giggled and slapped his chest lightly.

A conversation started and you added in a couple of times but mainly you were putting your focus on avoiding his gaze or trying not to cry at the sight of his hand resting on Erins shoulder.

As a certain song came on, you were suddenly pulled into memories of only a couple months ago.

It was the night he made you dance with him. You remember giggling and letting him spin you until you were dizzy and ready to pass out. You remember how his hands fell on your hips to try and steady you before you fell. He was laughing the entire time until his face came close to yours. And he almost kissed you. He was so close and you prayed that he would. But he didn’t.

The memory only causes your heart to ache and knowing that the man you loved was sitting right in front of you with another girl on his arm made it ten times worse.

You wanted to scream and to cry but you trapped it inside, bottling it up until you could let it out once you got home.

The sound of your slurping pulled you from your thoughts. You were out of adult juice. With no intention of going home, you were going to need another drink to get you through the night.

“I'm going to get a drink. I’ll be back,” you told Adam before hopping out of your seat. He gave you a nod.

“Yeah, me too. Anyone want anything?”

You pushed through the groups of people trying to get away but there was no use, Jay caught your arm and pulled you away before anyone at the table noticed. You were in a hallway suddenly and before you could say anything Jay was in front of you.

“Adam? Really?”

“What? What’s wrong with Adam? And why do you care?” You are getting upset now. Jay had no right to question you on who you were seeing. Not anymore.

“He’s not really your type.” You snorted at his reply. What were you supposed to say to that? You didn’t understand why he cared when he had left you and all of a sudden he wants to look out for you.

“Jay, you have no idea what my type is anymore. People change. Maybe I like blondes now.”

“Yeah well I remember only a couple months ago you much preferred brown haired, blue eyed men.”

“What are you implying?” You asked, stepping closer to him, your eyes set in a glare. He folded his arms over his chest, his muscles catching your eyes for a split second. Your thighs clenched before you copied his stance, your nails digging into your arms.

“You know exactly what I’m implying, princess.”

The nickname made you weak at the knees and so did that fucking smirk on his face. But you stood your ground, slipping your hair over your shoulder and attempting to walk around him. He caught your wrist, pulling you into his chest. You took in a breath at how close you both were. It had been so long since you touched him and every part of you wanted to melt into his arms.

“You left me, remember. Replaced me. No calls, no text, no goodbye. And no excuse. You have no right to try and tell me who I can or cannot be with.” As you spoke you snatched your wrist from his grip and pulled away, walking right out the side doors. You walked up to Adam, the excuse falling from your lips easily.

“I’m not feeling too well, I’m gonna head home, Call me. It was nice meeting you guys.”

And you were out the door before they could say anything. Your phone was blowing up as soon as you sped off down the road but you didn’t once pick it up knowing who it was.

It was your turn to ignore him now. You blocked his number later that night and cried yourself to sleep, trying your hardest to let go of that stupid schoolgirl crush you had for him and grow the hell up. You only wished it was as easy as saying it. But your mind betrayed you and you thought about him for the next two days. And then he showed up.

When you heard the knock you assumed it was the package you had been waiting on for three days now but when you took a peek through the peephole, you closed your eyes and sat your back against the door.

“Please open the door,” he begged, resting his head against the door. You let out a sigh and pushed yourself from the door, turning and swinging it open. He stood there with a pizza box in his hand and a pack of beer resting on top. You couldn’t help but smile as you noticed the flowers hiding behind his back. He pulled them out, a grin overtaking the sadness on his face. The look of excitement cured the nervousness that had settled in his stomach.

“Can I take the pizza, beer, and flowers and leave you on the doorstep?” You joked about taking a hold of the flowers, bringing them to your nose to smell them. You closed your eyes as your favorite flower's scent invaded your nose.

Jay let out a laugh. “No, princess. It’s a package deal.”

You let out a chuckle and opened the door wider for him. Jay walked inside, instantly making his way to the living room where he sat the pizza and beer on the table. Instead of following him you entered the kitchen and placed the flowers in a vase and filled it halfway with water. You placed them on the counter, cocking your head to the side as you arranged them perfectly in the vase. Jay watched from the entrance, leaning against the frame with a smile on his lips.

“I’m sorry. And I know it isn’t much, but I hope this is a good start to getting you back.”

His voice causes shivers to roll over your spine. You purses your lips, taking in a breath.

“I don’t want to play anymore, Jay. I want a relationship and if you can’t give me that then please just say so.”

He walked forwards, cupping your face in his hands.

“I didn’t know what I wanted back. But I do know now. And it’s you. It's always been you.”

With a sigh of relief you captured his lips, your hand running up his chest before clasping around his waist. You wished you had done it before, that you both hadn’t played around the thought of a relationship and just did it. But you had him now and that’s all that mattered.

His kiss made you fuzzy and you Found yourself leaning against him for support. His tongue swiped across your bottom lip and you parted your lips eagerly. You moaned at the taste of him and moved your hands to then settle on his chest. You have never been kissed like this before. And you loved every part of it.

You pulled back, taking in a much needed breath as he leaned his forehead against yours attempting to catch his own breath.

“So, you want me to beat your ass in monopoly or what?”

#one chicago #Chicago PD #Chicago PD imagines #Jay Halstead #Jay Halstead x reader #Jay halstead x plus size reader #Detective Jay Halstead #reader insert #Jay Halstead imagines #Jay Halstead oneshots

432 notes · View notes

buckyownsmylife · 4 years ago

Text

Memory - Bucky Barnes smut

The one where Bucky's a vampire but still manages to develop a breeding kink

Warnings: smut, breeding kink, vampire!AU, creampie, daddy kink, mention of blood because of biting

A/N: this is for my darling cousin @whisperlullaby‘s challenge, and also my own! Like I explained here, I’m going to try to fill every single AU I listed with the characters I picked for the challenge, and since the deadline if May 27, these fics will be posted randomly, as I finish them, instead of on Thursdays, which are my usual one-shot posting days. I hope you guys will enjoy this silly idea of a vampire with a breeding kink 💛 I had a blast writing it! Unbeta’ed because I almost died this week and cannot be bothered to stare at my writing for any longer.

Bucky’s P.O.V.

“Okay, let’s play truth or dare!” I groaned as silently as possible at the proposition. One of the downsides of dating someone in college was having to deal with the immaturity of their friends, especially when I was unable to escape yet another invitation for a weekend getaway.

There were only so many encounters a man could refuse before mysterious became annoying, and I knew I was toeing the line, even if my girlfriend never complained.

She understood just how irritating these gatherings could be to me. It would have been easy to imagine if there was a realistic age gap between us, but considering the centuries that separated our birth dates, it was laughable that anyone would entertain the idea of me with a bunch of young adults who only wanted to get laid, smoke some weed and drink their asses off.

Of course, her friends didn’t know my true age, so they only thought I was a little bit irked by their behavior. Y/N knew the truth, and so evidently she tried to get me out of it, but I resisted.

I wanted her to take part in the normal experiences people her age were having. There was already so much that she was missing out on just by being with me - and I wasn’t even referring to the blood that she granted me every night.

I’d accepted to be there with her that evening. I was going to immerse myself in the full experience, if only to learn a bit more about her and those she surrounded herself with.

Her best friend let out a little excited yell when she noticed that we were joining the circle and I forced myself to smile at her. “Alright, let’s do this.” One of the male friends rubbed his hands before reaching for the bottle, making it spin as I frowned. I thought that was a different game, but apparently I was mistaken.

It landed on a girl I had yet to get acquainted with, and so I disconnected myself from the conversation as I watched my beloved laugh and have fun with her friends. It made me feel warm. It made me grateful I had decided to join.

A few more rounds went by without anything of essence actually happening. I was about to excuse myself when the bottle surprisingly stopped while pointing at Y/N.

She gasped as she stared at the man who was responsible for deciding her fate, and I already knew I wouldn’t like what was coming next. But she was smart, so she avoided the dare that would undoubtedly enrage me, leaving her to answer a question that I also would have preferred not to hear.

“So… Y/N…” He began, taking far too much pleasure at the situation, and by the way she rolled her eyes, I knew she was thinking the same.

“Yes, Simon.” He opened his mouth to say something, but instinctively looked my way. I was trying my best not to let any emotion slip through the cracks of my perfectly constructed mask, but whatever it was that he saw seemed to make him change his mind.

He closed his mouth and frowned, for a second deep in thought, before he sighed and finally voiced his question. “Just tell us one of your kinks.”

It sounded like he was trying to get this over with, and although Y/N seemed just as confused, she cleared her throat and gave him an answer.

“Oh, I don’t know… I guess.. Creampie?” Little giggles and comments rose around the circle, but nothing really stuck out and they were quick to motion her to spin the bottle so another person could have a turn.

It was a different reaction that I was expecting, especially considering what everyone did for much tamer answers, but the explanation for the lukewarm crowd was made clear by a groaned comment from Simon to the man beside him.

“This is no fun now that she isn’t single.” A small giggle resonated by my side, and I turned in the direction it came from to find my girlfriend trying to suppress her amusement behind her palm.

“Something funny, little one?” I knew they’d take notice of the pet name, but I honestly couldn’t be bothered to even pretend to care, and the fact that she smiled openly up at me showed me that she didn’t, either.

“Not at all.” She pulled me closer to deposit a quick peck on my lips and I was sure if my heart was still beating, it would have fluttered at the way she looked at me. “Thanks for coming tonight.”

“Of course.” Thankfully, the game didn’t last much longer - for us, at least. Somehow, the bottle didn’t land on me once, and Y/N started to yawn, her head resting against my shoulder after the third consecutive “Who would you rather bang?” question.

“I think we’re gonna leave for the night,” she excused us even though I knew she wasn’t really sleepy. She really could be an excellent actress when she wanted to.

We walked up the stairs to where the bedrooms were located, quickly getting in what had been assigned as ours for the weekend. She smiled softly at me as she reached for her backpack, no doubt looking for the one shirt of mine she always slept in, but I had a few things in my mind I wanted to ask her about.

“Why do you like creampies to much?” The words spilled out at me so unusually, considering the silence in the room, it didn’t surprise me that it took her a while to answer. When she did though, I was surprised to find her biting her lip, a look between amused and horny in her eyes when she approached me.

“Dunno.” She shrugged, taking my hands in her and playing with my fingers. I knew it was a way to avoid my intense gaze. “Guess I have a bit of a breeding kink, actually. It just felt too personal to share with those guys.”

The answer took me by surprise as I stared down at her, blinking a couple of times as I made sure to really process what she had said.

“A breeding kink?” I confirmed, and she rolled her eyes in that way I knew she did when she was embarrassed but trying to play it off as annoyed.

“Yeah, you know.” She pulled away from me to sit on the bed, legs dangling off of it almost like a child. “I like the idea of being bred. Even though I’m in no way ready to become a mother,” she added in a serious tone, making sure I understood what she meant.

But I didn’t. I didn’t and I guess it was clear in my face, because she quirked an eyebrow and jumped out of the bed, coming to stand before me once more.

“Why is this so weird to you?” She inquired, head tilted in amusement. “You’re over a century old, I’m sure your expectations regarding sexual relationships were related to impregnation for most of your life.”

And I mean… she wasn’t wrong. But I hadn’t thought about that for so long, I guess it didn’t occur to me that there was an actual term for it these days.

“There’s no way you don’t have a breeding kink.” The affirmation sounded almost like a dare, so my instinct was to fight it, wrap my arms around her torso so I’d keep her close to me, but deny it.

“You know I can’t ‘breed’ anyone anymore, darling.” But she wasn’t giving up. Her fingers softly traced my jawline, eyes sparkling with a dangerous glint as she countered, “Doesn’t mean you can’t like the idea of it.”

Even though I didn’t need the oxygen, I inhaled sharply, suddenly fascinated by her every movement, the way she gently unwrapped herself from my arms to slowly unbutton her simple dress, the one she made it look like a fucking gown.

“Think about it, Buck…” Every inch of skin that became exposed to my eyes still had my mouth watering, desperate to taste her all over.

“Wouldn’t you want to see me round with your child?” The question provoked my imagination, playing with her features as I thought about what she proposed. Her breasts fuller, stomach protuberant, and maybe a little feet rubbing against the skin, something I could kiss.

“See me carry your genes, continue your lineage… Wouldn’t you want that?” Her innocent eyes spelled trouble when she stood before me again, close enough to touch.

And I couldn’t deny that the idea did something to my heart - even though it didn’t beat anymore. Most undeniably, it definitely did something to my cock, which now strained against my pants, the arousal that the image of her impregnated by me provoked bursting as I looked at the creature that I loved in wonder and fascination.

“Are you trying to tempt me, doll?” She bit on her lower lip to stop herself from giggling before I pulled it away from her teeth when I took her in my arms again, naked breasts rubbing against my shirt.

“Is it working?” She breathed out, eyes connected to mine while she tried to gather my feelings about her attempt. I pressed her body closer, making sure she’d feel the hardness in my pants before I even voiced it.

“Very well,” I whispered in her ear, enjoying the way my cold breath awakened goosebumps all over her warm skin. She never complained about the difference in temperature, something that I was profoundly grateful for, since I loved to feel her hot blood pumping underneath my fingertips whenever I trailed my digits over her flesh.

“So tell me,” she pressed, still going for seductive even though she sounded slightly out of breath, her desire evident in the way her pupils had dilated. “Would you like to breed me, James?”

A shiver went down my spine at the question and I closed my eyes for just one second, just to relish in this sensation before I opened them to confess, “You have no idea how much I’d like that.”

My hand easily spread her lower lips, middle finger running between them to test her wetness and finding her soaked, like she always seemed to be for me. The knowledge had me smiling as I lifted my hand to taste her before making quick work of my belt, observing her slowly walking backwards towards the bed as I followed, almost like there was a thread connecting us, keeping us close.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Fuck, you feel so good,” he moaned against my ear as he buried himself inside of me and I clutched at his shoulders, desperate to feel every part of him connected to every part of me.

Only he could get me this way. Chest heaving, mouth open just from the simple act of feeling him stretching me open. It didn’t matter how many times he took me, it still burned the same - and I loved it.

“Tell me, doll,” he panted, hypnotizing eyes connected to mine, unwilling to let my gaze escape his hold. “Tell me you’d want to have my child. You’d look so beautiful with your body changing because of me, wouldn’t you want that?”

I groaned, throwing my head back as James fucked me senseless, his cock ramming against my sweet spot over and over again. He knew no mercy, I knew that. I just never anticipated to have such an overwhelming reaction to a silly little kink I never even thought I’d ever get to explore.

“Answer me, little one.” His fangs came into play then, piercing around the nipple that he sucked, galvanizing me into actually responding, “I would, I would, daddy,” while pulling on his hair without even realizing.

He let go of my breasts to look at me with dark eyes - not because he had come in contact with my blood, oh no. It was clear that this was the reaction to the name that escaped me so easily, waving its way into him until it broke the last bit of his control and left him completely undone, only determined to fuck me.

I watched him lick his lips before he ordered, “tell daddy you want his cum inside of you.” Hearing him acknowledge this other secret kink, refer to himself as it had me delirious, unable to formulate any words to obey him, so I opted to hide my face in the crook of his neck, hoping the feeling of my burning cheeks would satiate him.

What a mistake.

“Oh, so now you’re shy?” He mocked, rubbing his jaw against my cheek as I whined against him. “Want daddy’s cum so much but can’t be a good girl and beg for it?”

I came with a long drawn-out gasp right then, my body twitching underneath his as his cock dragged along my walls once, twice, a third time until it spilled his cum inside of my channel. The act was so hot to me that it had me pulling on his hair, whispers of “I love you, I love you,” tumbling out of my lips.

He silenced me with a kiss, still managing to keep on thrusting until I had to push him away because of my sensitivity.

“Spread your legs for me, little one…” He ordered, brushing his tongue over his lower lip in contemplation. “Let me see the mess I left there.”

I was still a bit nervous about the whole ordeal now that the wave of horniness had left me, but I did eventually spread my legs for him, whimpering as he bit down on his own lip at the sight of his spent dripping from my abused pussy.

“Oh, you look so good like that, darling.” I could barely contain my giddiness as he laid down by my side and pulled me to rest on his chest, pressing a kiss to my temple while he caressed my arm. “But one question remains unanswered.” To my almost sleepy hum, he proceeded, “Why do you like the idea of breeding so much?”

That got me thinking, wiping the tiredness off of my muscles like a bucket of cold water. It felt weird to admit it, but at the same time, I wanted nothing more than to bare my soul to the man I loved, to have him aware of every little thing about me…

So I admitted, “I like the idea of being yours… in this very scary, slightly territorial way.” At his silence, I giggled, hiding my face on his chest as I waited for his response.

“But you are mine,” he reminded me, and even as I rolled my eyes, a silly smile painted my lips, loving that he felt like he needed to tell me that.

“I know I am,” I recognized. “It’s just another way I’d like to be claimed by you. Besides, I can just imagine how well you’d take care of me…”

Silence filled the room as we both got lost in the images of what could never be. Me with a fully-grown belly, walking like a penguin as he held up tiny onesies that looked ridiculous in his huge hands.

My heart ached for what could never be, surely, but I couldn’t really grieve a future I’d never have while I was so happy with the man who wanted to give me one.

“I’ll always take care of you.” He kissed the back of my hand, and even though he knew it wasn’t exactly what I meant, it was just enough. “I’m sorry that I can’t ever give you children.”

The guilt in his tone was almost palpable, and I wanted to do anything in my power to make it disappear. This wasn’t what I intended when I shared my sexual fantasies with him. They were just that - fantasies. I wouldn’t trade my reality for any alternative version the universe could offer me.

“It’s alright, babe,” I assured him, depositing a kiss on his chest, right where his heart would be beating for me if it could. “I think the way you want to claim me is just as territorial… and much more final.”

Bucky held me close, breathing me in - even if he didn’t need to do that to survive - before he asked me the last doubt that still hovered in his mind.

“Aren’t you scared?” And as I laid there in his embrace, feeling loved and cared for, I knew the only acceptable answer that I could give him was, “It’ll be worth it.”

#whispers700challenge #my 2k challenge #my fics #bucky barnes smut #smut #vampire au #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes reader #bucky barnes reader insert #bucky barnes reader inserts #bucky barnes fanfiction

942 notes · View notes

ga-yuu · 3 years ago

Note

Can you give some fun facts for Shigehira you discovered in the game?

And is it true, despite having androgenous face he's muscular? Like is there a CG of him showing that? Hehehe. Sucker for pretty boys.

I'm happy that you asked me this because I love talking about the characters of this game!

When I first saw Shigehira, I instantly knew that he is the baby tsundere of this game and also fell in love with his beautiful face. But after understanding his personality, his likes, dislikes, etc..I find him more appealing than the other tsundere characters of Cybird. In simple words, Shigehira is that friend that everyone loves. Whenever he shows up, every male leads just want to gang up and tease him because his reactions are adorable. His not dense like Mitsunari or grumpy like Ieyasu. He's very mature, intelligent, hardworking, and not very good at saying what he intends to.

For example, if he wants to help Yoshino with something, instead of coming out and saying it directly, he just waits and creates an opportunity to make it look like she's the one asking him. He has done that in Kurama's route (chapter 3 or 4, check it out)

He will act all cool like he doesn't care about Yoshino but then comes the evil adults (Yoritomo, Morinaga, Kagetoki, Tamamo) who teases him in front of Yoshino and he starts to blush. Like when Yoshino goes missing in Kurama's route and Shigehira and Morinaga go to find her. After that, when Yoshino thanks them, Shigehira acts all cool saying "It's not like I was worried about you or anything", only to be instantly teased by Morinaga who said, that Shigehira was literally having a panic attack when Yoshino went missing.

Shigehira also became shy when Yoshino called him by his first name. Shigehira wanted to be friends with Yoshino on every route. But coming out and saying "Hey! Let's be friends." is too embarrassing for our Young lord of Taira. So instead he asks Yoshino to not use honorifics like 'san' when calling his name. When Yoshino calls him 'Shigehira-kun' instead of 'Shigehira-san' he always blushes for some reason IN EVERY ROUTE!! Every emotion in his heart just explodes on his face and it's so beautiful to look at. It's like if you look at his face, you can easily tell what he's thinking.

Despite being cute, Shigehira does have some manly and sexy moments. For example, he's jealous of Morinaga, Benkei, Kurama, and Ibuki because they all have ripped bodies. He thinks that if he becomes ripped it will naturally give an impression to others that he's a strong samurai because he always gets teased for being too beautiful. But to be honest, Shigehira a perfect.

Some manly moments include Shigehira gifting Yoshino a lip rouge and saying----"I want to kiss you after you use this."

Shigehira becomes jealous when Yoshino, who lost her memories, smiles at Morinaga. He instantly takes her somewhere and confesses his love. After that, it starts raining and they both get horny and go home and have sex. The epilogue in short goes like this----

Yoshino: "Shigehira-kun....please..put it in. I can't wait...any longer..."

Shigehira: "Not yet."

Shigehira: (I want to melt you even more)

Shigehira: (That's your punishment for forgetting me)

In the same epilogue, after Yoshino regains her memories, the whole Shogunate gang comes to Shigehira's mansion (uninvited, of course!) to celebrate. Shigehira was protecting Yoshino from everyone. When Yoshino asks why he says---- "let me monopolize you for some time."

Even in his 3nd birthday story, Shigehira says----"When I saw you happily frolicking under the sunshine, I wanted to make love to you then and there."

Shigehira has shown his manly sides with such intense lines that you'll forget that he's the blushy boy we all tease.

Some more cute moments!

Shigehira loves cute things. Like Tamamo's soft fluffy tail. He loves caressing Tamamo's tail but he will never admit to it.

He also loves animals. But whenever he tries to pet them, the animals either bark or hiss at him. Again he would never admit that he wanted to pet animals. That's why he's always jealous of Yoshitsune. Because when Yoshitsune steps out of his house, every creature nearby comes running to him.

Shigehira highly respects his colleagues and looks up to them. But his colleagues (Yoritomo, Morinaga, Kagetoki, Tamamo) see him as their little brother and tease him every chance they get. This also goes for the Rebels and the Imperial court trio as well. No one hates him. They all gang up together to tease him despite being enemies.

So my closing thoughts are....even if you are not into tsundere characters, you'll still like him because his dynamic with the other male characters is so adorable. Adorable but at the same time manly. Even his voice actor thinks the same!

#ikemen series #ikemen mc #ikegen #ikemen genjiden #asks #ikemen genjiden shigehira

15 notes · View notes

ddarker-dreams · 4 years ago

Text

General Adult Trio Yan Hcs.

it’s been a while since i’ve gotten to flesh out my hcs for the adult trio!! my chrollo thirst has Picked back up once again, and with it, the other two hxh low-lives.

Chrollo Lucilfer;

Chrollo’s approach is, in part, tailored to you. The advantage in lacking a solid sense of self means the ability to wear many faces. A charming suitor, a thief willing to sweep you away into a night of thrills, a brooding yet misunderstood antihero... he can play every role perfectly. He might also take elements of each and form a perfect counterpart.

He goes out of his way to familiarize himself with those in your close circle. Your friends, coworkers, even your family; all will experience his charisma. Chrollo acts none the wiser but he knows what he’s doing. By getting their affirmation, he has more influence in your life. It won’t be uncommon to hear people ask why you’re not dating Chrollo.

“Oh, that?” he smiles, eyelids fluttering shut. “I ran into them by coincidence this morning. That look on your face... you don’t believe me, do you? Pity.”

Chrollo’s end goal is to have you traveling with him. He feels confident in his myriad of Nen to keep you from acting up, believing that if worst comes to worst, a stolen Manipulator ability would get the situation under control. Traveling with Chrollo is hectic, traversing multiple time zones and cultures. He’ll teach you about every place you’re going.

Generally doesn’t mind when you’re mouthy. Chrollo finds it amusing that you speak your thoughts so freely, but there are some subjects that remain best left unsaid. He wouldn’t care for any indication of attraction to someone other than him, speaking about past relationships in a positive light, stuff like that. There’d be a smile on his face that doesn’t reach his eyes.

Chrollo closes his book with more force than necessary. “Let’s move on from this topic, shall we?”

He has a penchant for challenging you. Loves watching your attempts at reasoning with him, which can feel infantilizing, not that telling him this will change anything. Chrollo will shrug your concern off, saying that he doesn’t know what you’re talking about. He does know what you’re talking about...

Due to his interest in gothic style, you can expect numerous gifts relating to fashion. Chrollo’s favorites on you include colors like maroon and black, fishnets/sheer tights, choker necklaces, corset outfits, anything with lace, and off-shoulder tops. He loves whatever shows off your legs and collarbones.

“You look like a work of art,” he hums, circling you like a predator who’s spotted its prey. “It should come as no surprise that I want to steal you.”

Hisoka Morow;

Hisoka makes for a perplexing yandere. He’s a walking contradiction in every definition of the word, overbearing yet flaky, obsessive yet distant, and always intent on ruining your day. Being around you is thrilling and he’s unashamed of his addiction. Hisoka lives for himself and nothing else matters.

He prances into your life intending to disturb the status quo. Just when you think you’re free, Hisoka shows up again, welcoming himself into your home. The worst part about it is that getting frustrated and lashing out is what he wants. He looks oh so pleased at prying that reaction from you, licking his lips and emanating bloodlust while you tell him off.

“[First]... I could devour you here and now ♥.”

Ignoring him doesn’t feel like a viable option. Should you rely on this method, anything that you’re paying attention to instead of him will meet an untimely demise. Whether it be a person, technology, or a book; expect cards to soon be lodged in it. Hisoka doesn’t stick around for long. So when he is lurking around your area, he expects attention.

Hisoka’s bizarre nature created a new yandere subgenre. He’s a part-time yandere, typically allowing you to live your life as you please, finding immense gratification from how on edge this makes you. It’s not uncommon for Hisoka to leave for months and then pop up at your job with a sweet smile.

“Were you lonely without me? Embarrassing as it may be, I found myself missing you. I’m sure we have lots to catch up on.”

Overall, you can expect your quality of life to go down every time Hisoka rears his head. The good news is that when he disappears for the next few months, you’re able to live life as per usual, no longer held captive by his whims. Hisoka is a lenient yandere, meaning, he likely won’t kidnap you unless pushed to extremes. The benefits Hisoka has to offer end there.

The touchiest yandere of three listed here. His hands are always on you: whether it be your lower back, your waist, even “accidentally” brushing over your ass. Pushing him away is not going to help. Hisoka is just waiting for an excuse to connect himself to you with Bungee Gum, don’t give him a reason.

Illumi Zoldyck;

Catching Illumi’s attention is akin to opening the door one day to find the Grim Reaper staring back at you. Similar to drawing the tarot card Death, you can expect your normal way of life to become a distant memory. Illumi’s view towards relationships is warped, he believes that commitment means disregarding everything else, and this intense view is forced onto you.

“There’s no reason to be upset,” Illumi reasons, blinking at your hunched over form. “I’m taking care of everything. Why are you crying?”

He thinks in black and white terms. Illumi can provide for you in abundance, what else could you possibly need from a partner? There’s no getting through to him on this front -- no matter how much you plead -- as he feels you’re being irrational. That with time, you’ll come around. His family encourages this detrimental behavior.

Illumi is a straightforward yandere, but that doesn’t make him any less manipulative. He uses this honesty as a cover for what he’s trying to accomplish. Drumming phrases and ideas into your head, bluntly bringing up past hurts that could be associated with your life before him. There’s a mold that Illumi wants you to fill and he’s willing to push you into it.

He doesn’t see the point in wasting time. Illumi feels like you have the potential to benefit his family, and once he feels this way, is willing to do anything to make that vision a reality. He’ll make some stiff attempts at romance if he receives advice like that from his family. Dates will be shrouded in silence or awkward small talk, no in-between.

You’re expected to adjust to things unnaturally fast. Illumi lays down the groundwork of what becoming a member of the Zoldyck family entails, even if you’re in a distraught state. Rules are set into place immediately with the expectation that you’ll follow them. Butlers are always around to ensure this, or return you to your room should you break them.

“Now, this is important. Hm... you really aren’t paying much attention. That’s going to be a problem.”

Unlike Hisoka, Illumi oversees all details relating to your life. When you wake up, when you should sleep, the nutritional contents of your meals, everything is micromanaged. He claims it’s for the sake of keeping you healthy. Which it very well could be, but doesn’t excuse how overbearing he is.

1K notes · View notes

widowsofchaos · 4 years ago

Text

ill wind

summary: A drunken one-night stand takes a turn. pairings: dark!Wanda x black!reader x dark!Natasha warnings: (malevolent advantage of alcohol consumption, power manipulation, dub non-con/smut) I hope ya’ll enjoy! <3 ao3 a/n: Written for @that-damn-girl ‘s PRIDE challenge. Chose a scenario prompt “drunken one night stand” with my two of my fav marvel women. Many apologies for being rusty at my writing! Beta: by the beautiful @imanuglywombat Thank you, Laura for being such a great friend & for proof-reading! Thank you for the amazing commentary, you’ve been such a huge help on this fic! Xoxo psa: I had to repost this story again due to the original post being reported by tumblr for adult content, so here it is once again! Also, a big thanks to everyone liking this fic, I didn’t realize it would be a fan favorite until I kept getting tagged by other writers’ answering asks of readers asking about it! It means a lot, thank you!!

do not repost my works!

A surge of throbbing pain hits your head.

Somber shades of yellow and white marinate into a dewy flourish; trying to break through your fluttering lids. Three hearts beating under smooth silk sheets, limbs entangled, a blooming migraine bestows your crown.

A cheeky god who’s shit-eating grin is flashing before your squinting eyes, you huffed. Serves me right, I guess, you mulled. The rowdy tyke biting more than she can chew.

Your hooded eyes sharply scan the bedroom, realization hits like a freight train – this isn’t your room. It’s familiar to memory, your mouth curves into a frown, you rub your eyes roughly. Trying to clear your vision, studying your surroundings thoroughly. Powering through blurry perception, your senses are a bit irregular, groggy.

You attempt to twist your body, metal clanks against the skin of your back. Nerves frigid at the slender-shaped leather sensation, your breathing is shallow, your brain is driving into overdrive, grasping at the assumption that it’s a belt; the horizontal form, and the shape of metal is a big clue of it’s identification.

The slick leather sliding against the nape of your back, traveling against the slope of your lower spine, regarding the patterns of the buckle that grazed against your ass.

Peering out of your blurry haze, your moist skin recognizes the flood of body heat.

Overwhelmed by your flush state, your crown shifts down and you almost choke on your spit and you almost choke on your spit. On your right, lying peacefully on her back is the Slovakian witch herself, Wanda. On your left, her face half-smooshed in the pillow, the Russian beauty herself, Natasha.

Anxiety rolls off of you in waves. Naked, and satiated with pouty sleepy lips – yourself bare as the day you were born. Arm draped gracefully over her face, the twinkle of a glimmering rock adorning Wanda’s left palm mockingly winks at you.

Whining very lowly, you leisurely twist your head to face Nat, curled near her head was another shiny rock snickering at you. “Fuck.” You cringe. Biting the bullet, you navigate through the migraine, bent elbows dig into the mattress, lifting your head up, weak fingers grip the sheets to cover your indecency.

On the floor, spews of clothes are scattered – your Alice Cooper shirt, your lace black thong, your denim shorts, your strapless bra – along with other familiar articles of clothing. A red string thong, a pair of high-waisted blue panties, a black button clad blouse, a leather skirt, – it was an Armageddon of fabric.

As your brain fizzles to calculate your escape, a featherlight fingertip grazes and tickles your neck, you gasped at the intrusion. Your head snaps to your left, green orbs pierce through you, “Hey.”, it was sultry, yet raspy.

A twinge at your core – no, no, no – this can’t happen. Becoming a homewrecker isn’t on your bucket list. “Hey – um, I don’t fully remember–” You were stuttering, never have you lost your cool. “I – fuck.” Your eyes downcast from Natasha’s intense stare and shame seeping through your bones; a dark chuckle erupts from her.

“It’s okay.” She cuts you off, with her knuckles caressing your cheek. “No need to be worried – or scared”, a feral grin, all fangs. Your mouth gaps opened, and closed like a blubbering fish. “I’m so sorry, Nat.” A bit breathless, tears form in your eyes.

Your head running miles per hour, tongue thickened with sincerity – worried that you definitely ruined one of your best friendships.

“I shouldn’t be here.” Your fumes are running on auto-pilot. A coy flutter of her lashes, “Why are you sorry? You weren’t saying that last night.” Your chin wobbles, “Excuse me?” A devilish smirk dons her mouth, you can tell she’s entertained by your confusion.

Natasha’s calm stature, coolly lifting herself by the elbows to sit against the headboard, bare milky breasts bounce free from the blanket – it throws you for a loop.

“Whatever I said last night –” Your fidgety fingers grip your messy curls, seeking an ounce of control, “–I was drunk. I – can’t remember. I know I probably said some stupid shit.” You harshly bite your bottom lip, drawing some droplet of blood through split skin, “Not at all, miláčik.” A soft Slovakian timber looms behind you, your entire body stiffens.

French manicured nails graze your tender shoulder blade, weaving a hiss through your teeth. Crudely tracing red claw marks, a shiver crawls through your spine; Wanda stifles a chuckle. “No need to worry, Y/n.” A peck on your shoulder, you gasp, flinching a bit away from her lips.

“No, this is so wrong. I ruined everything – I – need to go.” You stutter, averting your teary gaze away from both women. Fumbling and shaky hands tugging off the sheets, embarrassment surges inside of you due to your bareness.

Covering your breasts with your arms in shame, a disappointed sigh can be heard, a whizz of mesmerizing magenta energy floats and surrounds you. Your brain becomes fuzzy – dizzy numbness infiltrates you. Brown orbs criss-cross, a force heaves on your chest, pushing your body forcefully against the mattress – an ungraceful huff escapes you.

“Oh miláčik, you’re not going anywhere.” Wanda whispers, her knuckles softly caressing your cheek. “I–” Your mouth gapes to speak but you are cut off, “Quiet.” Natasha sternly demands, trimmed brows pinch menacingly. Wanda’s slender fingers flicker hairs-away from your lips; muting you.

“Do I really need to refresh your memory? Or do you want Wanda to just show you?” Natasha pucker lips sporting a faded tint of pink – a hint of last night’s rendezvous. Something is different in their eyes now; something darker. It nerves you, a force is weighing on your chest slightly more — leaving you gasping a bit.

You nod your head in Wanda’s direction, peering through squinted glossy eyes. Wanda’s open palm waves over your face, a flared energy of fluid orchid pink and creamy white whisk in a blurry mix.

Transporting your subconscious through a tunnel of faded memories – a film reel of the past — neon rainbows of worldly splendor travel around you. Kaleidoscope splendor.

Through a murky veil, your airy presence arrives at the living area — Stark’s late night party from last night in full swing. You are befuddled yet amazed beyond belief. The scents of alcohol roars in your nostrils and the crisp clear cadence of your tipsy friends flow through your eardrums – goofing off, and chatting – you can feel the atmosphere differently on your skin.

The chilled air that flows from the open balcony imbibes your flesh, goosebumps littering your translucent skin in its wake; your breath hitches at the tingles soaring through your body.

The powerful gifts Wanda possesses never fails to impress you.

Nimble feet waltz through the hallway, reaching to the common area, it felt as if another unknown force was guiding you – searching for your past self. Assuming by this time of the party you were already impaired off your ass. Your silent steps were transparent, featherily light against the flooring; the cool sensation grazing your toes.

The cheers rising in volume, the coil of anxiety curling in the pit of your belly. Forcing yourself to cease your pace, nerves overriding. Afraid to face the truth – realization that you slipped. How easy of you fall into their bed, like a slithering snake. Tears formed at the brims of your eyes – wiping the droplets away by the back of your palms.

A push collided against your back, an ungraceful yelp escaped you as you toppled over – your entire form floating, twirling a bit. Wiggling legs falter mid-air, hovering over the ground; trying to find your bearings. A force guiding you towards the common area. The aroma of liquor tickles your nostrils and boisterous laughter rings in your ears.

Easily you found past you hanging off of Thor’s extended bicep – like a monkey climbing a damn oak tree. You attempted to face-palm yourself, but your hand went straight through your ghostly face. It was free reign to wonder about the compound.

Fascinated to just linger around, seemingly waiting for your own mistake to be replayed for you. In the corner, you see Sam and Clint chuckling like a couple of knuckle-heads at you trying to bounce off of Thor. It was odd, you felt like you were in the film Ghost.

Wandering among friends, they walk right through your invisible disembodied form. In the corner, you see Bucky and Steve smooching on the couch, stealing cheeky kisses – a bit tipsy chuckles from Thor’s ale.

Your drunken form catches your eye, incoherent words to Thor, Sam, and Clint --- most likely you’re telling them that you were gonna rest for a bit. You saw your past self flop ungracefully on the couch, your eyes wearily fluttering open and shut.

Two shadows peer upon your body and you almost choke on your own spit. Wanda and Natasha sat on both sides of you, petting your hair and caressing your cheeks. Delirious you were, you slurred a hello. You squinted darkly at Natasha’s palm – it was a flask in her grasp.

Taunting you with a shake, promising more alien ale, in exchange to ‘hang out with us’; Wanda’s fingertips grazing your temples, snickering lowly. You are frozen in your spot as if the soles of your feet grew roots planting in the flooring. Deceit. It was a simple trick dealt by your own hand, your own inebriation used against you.

For a millisecond, you feel it was your own fault – following the wolves in sheep’s clothing. Aided by the sneaky claws of Wanda, and Natasha; trolling towards the elevator. Your breathing is sharpening, choppy pants squeezed from your lungs. The walls of the living area began shaking as if an earthquake was occurring.

Your subconscious begins deteriorating piece by piece. Vibrations begin surging throughout your body and in a glimpse, you see every member of your team in a mid-frozen state.

But in a flash, you see Bucky and Steve grinning with toothy Cheshire Cat smiles – following the direction of their gaze, staring at Wanda and Natasha dragging you away. It gives you a weird uncertain vibe, making you shiver.

The walls of the compound begin to crumble upon you. Vibrations surge throughout your body, almost losing your balance on your toes. You hold onto yourself, hugging your head in your arms. An efflux of bursting colors blinds you, swirling and erupting upon you. A force pushing you through the familiar tunnel of mist.

Deafening white noise pound in your ears, as if you are breaking through the ocean surface – wheezing for air, a heavy weight crawling off your chest. The blurry veil clears, your vision sharpens to see Wanda and Natasha hovering over you, smiling like the cats that got the cream. “You tricked me,” You stammered, fuming with rage but a flailing thread of humiliation.

Wanda clicked her tongue, wagging her finger at you – scolding you like a child. “We didn’t trick you. You came willingly. Right, Nattie?” Wanda cooed to Natasha, dreamily gazing at her. Natasha hummed, “Indeed, Maxie. All we did was follow –” the tip of Natasha’s finger softly grazed Wanda’s chin upward, a slow turn back to you, “--- You lead the way.”

“I was fucking drunk. I don’t even remember shit! You took advantage of me!” You barked, green and hazy blue hues darken. Natasha’s palm grips your jaw, emanating an ow from you – a bruising touch.

“Would you like Wanda to give you a repeat of it? I must warn you –” She leaned forward, lips almost brushing yours, “–you were very loud, and wet.” Nat’s voice was laced with malice.

“No.” A muffled whine slip from puckered lips pinched between her fingers. “You know – we could just give her a demonstration.” Wanda purrs, delicate hands find your body; snagging the sheets off your body, Natasha groans at the sight of your bare breasts.

Bending forward Wanda’s pink tongue darts from her plump lips, licking long strides against your dewy skin. Starting at the navel, her tongue traveling up to the valley of your plush breasts.

Cowering thighs clench shut, “Nuh uh, none of that.” Wanda’s sing-song reprimand makes you twitch at the pit of your belly. A fiery carmine mist infiltrates the air, twirling presence swirls around your crotch, and thighs – the force snatches your legs spread eagle-wide.

“You have no clue how long we have wanted you, huh?” Natasha coos crudely as your thighs slowly lift upwards, slowly your thighs lifted upwards, your kneecaps coming to rest against your supple breasts.

“You’re soaked, miláčik.” Wanda’s body glides with smooth precision, downward like agile feline; legs dangle in the air, ankles locked. Comfortably tucked between your legs like it was her rightful reign. Inhaling your sweet tangy scent emanating from your glistening cunt, her pink tongue darting out to lick her bottom lip. Long strides stroking inside your wet folds, shamelessly delving between short-fuzz mound.

“Delicious. Like a peach.” Tip of her moist tongue, twirling on your clit, “Hmph – fuck.” Your eyes fluttered to the back of your skull. Natasha licks a trail of warm saliva from your lush breast to your baring neck.

Suckling on your pulse point, you gasp a breathy groan. Teeth nip and scrape the skin ravenously, baring her fangs --- resembling her infamous Araneae emblem.

Sweet kisses to your collarbone, teeth nibble at your brown nipples, tantalizing tugging on the sensitive flesh – red nails painfully scraping into your ass cheeks, whimpers slither pathetically from your lips. Mewls from Natasha, a click of her tongue, tsking you as if you were a cat, a mere pet to play with. Your lips form into a thin line, forbidding any involuntary moans to slip.

“Twah. Don’t hold back those sweet noises, baby.” Wanda lulling you, following with a salacious bite on your inner thigh, you yelp trailing into a pathetic moan as she licks against the mark. “We had you singing like a canary last night,” Natasha speaks huskily against your cheek, nibbling a bit. “You may be restraining, trying to be quiet. But you’re just one loud girl, just like your mind.” Natasha said lowly, your dazed eyes trying to concrete.

“Loud thoughts, and vivid fantasies.” Wanda’s lips pucker to suckle throbbing clit. You grunt, Natasha pinches your nipple — earning a squeal from you. It was painfully delicious — you can’t lie — your body definitely can’t hide the fact. “There you are, darling.” Natasha’s voice drips with husky lust, a second twist.

You yelp, your head tilts back and strains against the pillow — welcoming the sting whole-heartedly. Natasha cups your breast jiggling it a bit; flicks her tongue against the erected nipple and suckles it in her entire mouth. Your whole breast devoured, you hiss, peeking through your lashes — it was sinful how her pink saliva glossed lips engulf your tit.

How her tongue lapped at your nipple with such hunger. Worships you into the cave of her mouth. Her sneaky fingers snatch the other one — twisting and twirling mercilessly between her finger-tips. It’s sloppy, filthy, and fucking dirty — and wrong. You feel as if you could pass out. The soppy slurps from Natasha and the leg-shaky clit bites from Wanda were pushing over the edge.

You push your waist up and down, riding Wanda’s tongue; for a moment you lose yourself. Her hot tongue gliding between your velvet folds, how her tongue coats in your essence.

Wanda’s soft palms glide against the curves of your thighs, her nails scraping against the flesh. You jolt as she swats against your underthighs. Harsh painful slaps, as she eats you out. The heat of the slaps is scorching in your pores, adding salt to the wound — Wanda digs nails a bit more to relish in your squirming.

“Ow.” It’s small, but it’s heard. Wanda removes her lips from your pearl, you pitifully whine — frantically, you hoist your head to glare at her. A trail of white saliva connects from her bottom lip to your clit, she twirls her tongue in a languid twirl; collecting all of it.

Licks her upper lip, like a feline just drank the dairy. “Don’t pretend you don’t like it.” Wanda smacks your glistening cunt, a wicked snicker. You wail, it’s a tug of war for you. You don’t want to be here, getting eaten the day-lights out of you, and your tits suckled.

You need time to decompress on the fact, you had sex with two of your best friends — who are married. Who you had the biggest crushes on – but you can’t risk losing a full-fledged friendship over lust.

Two sets of slender fingers plunge inside you, snapping you out of your thoughts, as the pad of Wanda’s thumb rubs manic circle motions on your throbbing clit.

“Get out of your pretty head, miláčik.” Tears form at the brims of your eyes, shaking it no — you can’t risk losing this friendship. “Do you really think you can bypass a spy and a telepath?” Natasha’s voice was like a crackling fire, dragging you out of your conflicted thoughts.

“Did you think we wouldn’t see how you gaze at us, huh? All those thoughts swarming in there?” Her index gently taps the center of your forehead. It was difficult to fully concrete or even speak coherent words as Wanda was teasingly inserting her fingers in and out of your wet cavern; ceasing her thumb a bit.

Speechless — what could you say to that? “Worried on becoming a homewrecker?” You were stuttering a bit, you still needed space to adjust, what if this doesn’t work out, and you were stuck in the awkward middle? “I–I need some time —” Natasha’s eyes darken, refusing to accept your rejection. You didn’t even have the proper choice — you didn’t have a choice.

It was a drunken one — barely a choice filled with manipulation and trickery. “No.” She hisses, gripping your jaw, you whine lowly in your throat at her harsh grasp.

Without wavering her eyes from yours, as she steals a bruising kiss. Wanda’s eyes ignite to fiery red, hitting your sweet spot hard, and brutal. You shriek, trying to worm yourself from Wanda’s grasp — but no success. Wanda’s mist restricts and pins you against the bed, her jaw tightens and clicks.

“You can’t escape us. We want you just as bad as you want us.” Wanda’s viscous fingers split you open, squelching; not once allowing a second of adjusting. As if her powers were electric at the tips of her witchy fingers, you felt a zap inside you. Oh, how a wicked bulb lits upon her head. “I have an idea.” Wanda hums with an evil smirk, stopping her actions.

“I don’t even have to touch you to make you cum.” Wanda guides Natasha away from your aching body by the shoulder. Her slim fingers contort as she sits on her knees, red energy emits, and swirls from her hands.

Manipulating your senses, fire brewing at your nerve endings, unadulterated ecstasy brimming at the pores. Wails leave you like hymns, your lips forming into an O; eyes pinched shut as your back arches off the mattress.

Hissing through your teeth — it’s electric. Enthralling as you twitch under Wanda’s command. Jittery spasms as a coil at the pit of your belly began twirling bigger, and bigger. “She’s getting close. I can smell it on her.” Natasha whispers, her breasts heaving a bit from her chest swelling from excitement, her smug smile curling from her lips.

“I can feel her energy. It’s heavy and intoxicating.” Wanda’s head was in a haze, as she connected with your spirit, along with Natasha’s. A connection. To intertwine — but not for herself, with extra concentration, it is sizzling erotic as Natasha’s charka intertwine with Wanda’s as it chokes your inner essence.

Wanda’s fingers pinching in the air, weaving your life-force, your hips bucking into the air, as your impending orgasm is roaring — your pussy is swollen and soaking. Your soppy hole clenches and pulsates against an enigmatic fullness, Wanda exploring yet violating your cavern — touching against your moist walls, your clit throbbing and hot.

“Fuck — I — I need to c–cum!” Sputtering over your blubbering lips, a snarl rumbles in Wanda’s chest, as she hovered a bit by the knees, the power over three energies was carnal.

Natasha’s head tilts backward, her fiery hair curtaining her face, her baby-hairs sticking against her forehead from brewing sweat; pinching her nipples painfully between her fingertips, groping her breasts in the cups of her palms. “I need to feel her cunt against mine.” Her voice is hardened and desperate.

Natasha’s head snaps upward, staring directly at your sweltering face, the greenery in her pupils darken and dilate.

A growl seethes from Natasha’s wet lips, low and dangerous. Your muscles shake; pleasure engulfing your limbs, weakly trapped in this mystic force, forced to enjoy Wanda’s manipulation. Moving like rivers upon your skin, unraveling waves washing over you — suffocating, painfully sweet.

Despite Wanda taking unbridled control, ravaging your body as if she owns it, weaving pleasure from you as if she knows your body from the inside out, as if she knows every sweet-spot, and tick inside you for years — there is a layer of gentility. Impulsive, yet soft. A tender lover, a pinch to savor.

Groans, grunts, and high-pitched moans echo as corrupted sympathies and bounce against the wall pavements, ringing in your ears. Flushed cheeks, sepia skin now tinted with pinkish shades spreading throughout your body.

Bliss swelling and sealing in your limber legs, aching in the best possible way. Cattle-wails of desperation, a dribble of cum trails between your wet folds and between your cheeks hitting your puckered asshole.

Wanda’s witchy slender fingers fiddle, makeshift claws to create more pressure — releasing more telepathic vitality for Natasha and yourself to ride out your orgasms.

With a flicker of Wanda’s index finger – maneuvering to the form of a pistol – a trigger, a jolt of energy bolts at your navel. A bullet. You convulse, airy pants, your torso heaving with your thighs quaking in its tight hold.

A snap bursts within you, your eyes opening widely, translucent colors combust upon your vision — worldly satisfaction manifesting into reality. In unison, all three souls unleash guttural moans.

Wanda’s fingers tremble, sucking in breath through her teeth, her energy fading into thin air, retreating back into her palms. A sharp guttural groan spilt from Natasha, a skin-peeling frenzy; basking in the astral aura that is the Slovakian witch. Your thighs collapse down debilitating from your torso.

Almost falling like an empty sack, Natasha tries to steady her breathing, as she loses herself completely at the heightened senses of her orgasm. It was such a sight, heaving over, crooked elbows denting against the mattress — on all fours, her spine heaving upward as tremors convulsed.

Never have you ever seen Natasha lose her stature in all the years of knowing her, ever so the chilling demure nature — only in your wildest fantasies have you dreamt of Natasha torn at the seams.

At the corners of her jaw, was tinged pale pink upon a damp milky surface, with her glossy eyes, adding to the primal gaze. Zoned out, peering through her lashes, her eyes are feral. Unhinged, ready for the kill.

“Keep her legs open.” Natasha hisses, nostrils flaring. Wanda slithers away, wobbling a bit by her knee-caps. Humming with a knowing smirk at Natasha, licking her upper lip with her pink tongue – she knows what Natasha wants. “I want her mouth.” Wanda snickers, a glint of mischief at her eye. Hastening breath fans over your bare shoulder, from her button nose against your sculpted collarbone.

Choking a bit, gasping for a full breath to tame your heightened nerve endings; your mouth parted. Gulping back your dry throat.

Wanda clicks her tongue, her nimble fingers trace the lines of your lips. “Keep that mouth open, dove. I’m going to quench your thirst.” Sneaky mind-reader. Sultry thick accent spells you for a momentary lapse.

“Please, wait. Give me a momen — aggh!” A plea falling on deaf ears is strangled into a wanton cry. Your hands shake, hugging yourself against your chest, arms crossing; trying to comfort yourself.

A painful slap against your clit, over-sensitive and squirming. Heat blooming throughout your hooded clit. “I don’t think so. We’ll stop when we say, got it?” Natasha snipes.

A pregnant pause.

Smack.

“Understood?” Natasha barks again, with a vengeful clap of her hand — as if it possesses the power of a god, unmerciful; but worships you in the smooth rubs on the stinging flesh. Your lips parting into a moan, a few sniffles muffled — it’s whiny and pathetic.

“Don’t cry. We’ll make you feel good again. Don’t you want that?” Wanda’s lips hover over you, against your cheeks, her teeth slightly grazing against your skin. A bite at your inner thigh, a warning. Natasha’s more aggressive. Wild, impatient, and just savage to devour you, for you to comply with their demands.

“Yes. Just wait, I’m sensitive.” You needed a reprieve, a breather from the intense third-eye cosmic orgasm you just had a few minutes ago. “No time to waste.” Wanda perks, a soft kiss on your lips. The witch balances herself over your head, trapping your skull between her thighs. Above your lips was her peach-fuzz cunt, dripping and inviting.

A tiny voice at the back of your head informing you that this is beyond wrong, red flags and alarm bells ringing that the circumstances after this will be catastrophic.

Fingers sliding in your curls, glides open-palm against your head, “C’mon, dove. Open wide. We know you’ve dreamt of having a taste. Don’t be shy now. You weren’t last night.” Wanda’s clutch shifted into an iron grip, pain over-riding your humiliation.

“Loud, wet — very eager to please, to impress.” Natasha kept listing off how you acted in bed, closing your eyes shut in embarrassment. What if this is just a tryst? A mere game for a married couple to spice their sex life? Years worth of emotional baggage and scars begin surfacing to your murky mind. A good lay.

And when Wanda and Natasha are done with you without a second thought, using your body after a good late night and morning fuck, despite questionable undertones --- confusion.

Your body yearns for their touch, going against your better judgement; it’s best to sit down and discuss this like rational adults. Another part of you wants to claw at both of them, for lying to you. Using Thor’s ale against you to lure you to the lion’s den. What if after this, they don’t want you? A mind-game to throw you off. Fearing to lose a friendship over a momentary lapse of hot sex.

Restricting back burning tears, ‘very eager to please, to impress.’ That’s you, always ready to bend over to get people to like you — it even transcended into your sex life. Motivated by liquor and you lost yourself to lust and temptation, although these two used your drunk state against you. A humiliating sight you probably were.

“Get out of your head, miláčik.” You sigh, slowly opening your eyes. Your breath hitches, Wanda stares down at you with sympathetic hues. “We’re not going to throw you away. We’re not going anywhere.” Relenting her harsh grip, the pads of her fingers soothe the remaining ache.

“You’re ours.” Firm and demanding. Natasha spreads your weak legs open once again, positioning herself to sit interlocked with you. Natasha hums, “Don’t even think of leaving us. You know we’re capable of catching you. Chain you to the bed if we have to.” Her cunt against yours, clit to clit.

You can feel the wet slick that coated between her asscheeks, a slip n’ slide as her ass sprawled against your wet thigh. Her fingers clawing against your thigh to top it over her leg. Quaking a bit, a shiver crawls up your spine.

The insanity of it all, you just wanna hide away. “Be good, miláčik.” Wanda descends upon your face, her natural essence wafting deeply in your airways — flooding your senses. You shouldn’t be thriving off of this sex but it was hot and incredible.

Wanda comfortably situates herself as if she sits on a throne —- as if she owns you. Your protests are muffled into mumbles, as your lips wrap around her swollen snatch. Your nose nestled against her short curls, the tender skin was like silk against your palate.

A crude shift from Natasha’s waist, a strident thrust as she begins tribbing you, you are moaning against Wanda, herself shuddering as her hips sway up and down upon your cheeks.

Vulgar Russian curses heave from Wanda’s lips, high-pitched and transcending into orgasmic nirvana. Natasha is growling — slipping into Russian curses and wanton moans — taking what’s hers as she keeps riding herself on you. Sucking through your teeth, you nibble on Wanda’s clit, and tugging her slippery labia between sucked in lips.

Vociferous wails and whimpers, a cadence of sticky slick mixing from one cunt to another. A lubricant that was chafing against flesh. The lewd differences between these two women is clear as day.

Wanda is the bright sunny day and Natasha is the inky night. Soft is Wanda in shades and colors; with benevolent timbre. Amorous is Natasha but in darker tints, with a reserved mask; with raspy timbre. Both ravenous for control. The pinnacles of what many women strive to be with superior intellect, beauty, and brawns.

Being the gay bottom you are, it’s no surprise for you to be charmed by such powerful women. After many hookups with women over the years, this was the most intense and enthralling one yet.

Years of crushing on them from afar has led up to this. Fresh-faced and more enchanting than before, Wanda sighs in content and victory, as she gawks down at you from her tottering head. Her tousled tresses curtaining her cheeks, riding with more enthusiasm as your lashes flutter. With a dominant drive, Natasha’s groans as she’s close to cum.

Her wetness and yours adds to the sensation on your clit. All three bodies fumbling at bit from the brutal-pace of face-fucking and cunt riding. The headboard hits the wall a bit, matching the frenetic grinding of skin to skin.

Shedding their heroic femme skins and turning into savages. Nasty. Filthy. Corrupt. Your fingernails dredge into Wanda’s femurs, prowling skyward the sweaty region of her hips, to the toned plains of her tummy to finally the mountain peaks of bosoms.

Pinching her pink nipples between your fingers to the point of making her yelp, it was an unspoken incentive for her to ride your mouth harder. Teeth tenderly gnashing inside her pussy lips.

Ragged murmurs, clipped curses, and taunts – You like it? Yeah, you were made to be under us, withering, and shaking. You want me to cum all over your face, pretty girl? Have Natasha drown your pussy with her cum? Yeah, dove, I can feel your clit pulse against mine!

Shocked silence as your astonished eyes widen, your mouth is flooded with cum. Rendered speechless, airy gasps from Wanda and Natasha is still upon your cunt, small mewls from her, now beyond sloppy and wet; a mixture of your cum and hers. Natasha’s hips juddering against yours, riding the last of her orgasm.

“What a good dove, we have,” Natasha speaks through the thick silence. Wanda hoists herself up by the knees, as you gasp for more air — your entire mouth now glistening with her fluid.

“Yes, she’s so good. Took everything we gave her like a good girl.” Wanda coos at you, hooded lids with a sultry curve of her lashes flutter at you; jolting away as she laid back on the bed with a wheezing breath. Regaining her composure, her dainty fingertips graze against your sweaty forehead to flip curls that strayed on your eye-lids. It was intimate, too intimate — it is the touch of a lover.

Natasha releases your leg, it was a bit strained from her fingernails and tight grip. Her hands cup your tummy, kissing by the navel; as she repositions herself by your side, mimicking her wife’s action. Caressing hands on your arms, dainty fingers soothing against your breasts, and shushing your rapid breaths.

Sandwiching you between themselves, a sudden direction on your belly was taken. Both Wanda and Natasha soothe the smooth clammy skin, with curling smirks that were both devilish yet attractive.

With a silent conversation that you aren’t privy to, confused as they both looked at each other with knowing gloating stares. Wanda takes her own pillow and fluffs it between her hands, as Natasha upraises your curved hips. Once again, you’re left in the dark, thrusted back into demoralization and bewilderment.

Is this it? Now that this married couple — who you idolized, and cherished this friendship with — has had their fill, who are you to them? Words birthed during the mist of lust are empty promises most of the time. Is this friendship over? Do you even have the mental capacity to continue this friendship after this tirade?

Bone-shattering orgasm after orgasm was ripped from you, and yes, it was amazing to the core, but there was a part of you in the midst of clouded hazy sex, that you didn’t want it. To be touched, you just wanted some space to recollect and process your feelings about this entire messy ordeal. You’re not sure what you want really out of life --- especially out of a polygamorous relationship.

What does this say about Natasha and Wanda?

This was a scene contrasting their usual masks of personalities, yet it molds and blends into their psyches just accordingly. It’s terrifying.

You stiffen at the revelation, serrated images were slowly circulating around your mind like the stingers of raging wasps; the small brushes of knuckles against yours, the over-friendly back massages, the persistent need to have you in their presence at all times that was mislabeled ‘just to hang out’ and ‘we miss our best friend.’ And with your yearning affection, it was easy to follow the wolves to the den for the slaughter.

Facades of kind smiles, words of advice, late-night talks that delved into and entrusted girl nights — was something darker, something sinister boiling underneath the surface.

Palms driven with cursory attached upon your arms, gripping and digging; it is demanding. Scooping underneath your bum, open palms gripping your globes, and heaving upward so your hips are positioned in the air. Wanda grabs an extra plush pillow, and Natasha maneuvers your bottom down on the pillow.

“What are you two doing now?” You are a bit irritated – tone clipped – at your running-at-a-mile per second thoughts, and sore at the muscles.

“Hush, you’ll see.” Wanda snickers, as she plushes the pillow underneath your bum. Natasha gingerly holds you down as Wanda dashes to the nearby bedside drawer. Her open-palms caress your belly, ogling with much affection and pride.

“I can’t wait.” A soft smooch above your located uterus. Anxiety filling your veins at the unknown, you begin wiggling in Natasha’s tight hold. Wondering what in the fuck, she meant. “Relax. Let it happen.” Natasha’s words were not settling your nerves, it only makes the panic hitch.

In Wanda’s palm was a turkey-baster, filled to the brim with white sloshing liquid. Eyeing the baster with pure excitement shining in her eyes, her eyes nearly criss-cross as she inspects the foreign fluid almost oozing out of its confinement.

“Perfectly curated semen for the perfect womb.” A bulb breaks and explodes in your head — emptying your dome into nothingness — thrashing in Natasha’s lethal lock. She sighs with a disapproving shake of the head, stretching your arms into a pretzel lock against your chest; painting brown skin in splotches of lavender hand-prints.

Whilst Natasha confines your fore-arms in her restraints for hands, putting weight on your upper body into the bed; Wanda’s eyes glow with fury, once again forcing down your legs. “Relax, dove. This is what we wanted with you for so long. Don’t you want to be with us?” Wanda seethes with a crooked grin, as she leers down at your shaking body.

How she revels in your weak state under her touch. Makes her urges to fuck you with her strap and make you scream like the perfect little bitch you are. Their perfect dove.

“Why?” A watery cry, before succumbing to your fate — who are you to fight against a powerful telekinetic, and one of the world’s greatest retired assassins? The only outcome would be death.

“Because we love you. You’re the one to carry our baby. I can just —” Natasha groans, her eyes rolling back in yearning. “– imagine your belly swollen, waddling bare-foot. Breast-feeding — fuck — you’re already breath-taking, miláčik, but God, you’re going to give us heart-attacks.” Her voice drops an octave lower. Natasha leans her head lower, a kiss on the crease between your brows.

Your body shivers as you feel the chilled tip of the turkey-baster nearing your gaping hole, you begin weeping quietly.

Wanda shushes you, “It’s okay, milacik. You’re going to be a great mommy. Three mommies and two daddies. The baby will be the most beloved and protected little one.” A warm smile graces Wanda’s rosy cheeks. Three mommies? A dream of having a family now enforced upon you, this is a clusterfuck. Firstly, tricked by your own drunken state, second, pinned down for morning sex, and now you’re going to be impregnated by a fucking baster?

Wait --- two daddies?

“Two daddies? What? Wait, who’s the father?” You shrill, your head struggling to peak down at Wanda as she paused mid-way from inserting the cum; your eyes wild and glossy. Wanda chuckles, it sounds genuine — it’s anything but.

“Not just one father, miláčik. Our dutiful Captain and Sergeant.”

You feel light-headed, a hay fever flooding your dome. The tips of your ears feel hot, your head flops back down onto the pillow with a fluffy thud.

An incoherent whisper. “What was that, dove?” Natasha’s thumb rubbing your wrists, coaxing you to speak up. “How is that possible?” You wept, fresh tears coating your face.

“Anything is possible with modern enhanced technology. Now a baby can be genetically linked to two fathers. Isn’t that marvelous?” Wanda gleamed a cheeky smile, her eyes twinkling with unnerving mirth. “Why Steve and Bucky? Do they know what you’re doing?” You almost choke on a strained whine, your face scrunching up tightly.

Praying that Steve and Bucky didn’t have any involvement, nor a speck of encouragement of this insanity. “Of course, they know. We all made the plans together.” Wanda’s hand rubs your thigh to calm you but it only adds to your fright.

“Steve and Bucky are ready to settle down, they always dreamt of having kids. They love you and know you would be the perfect mother to their child. Our child. We’re all going to be one happy family.” And without any moment to spare, Wanda gently thrusts the baster inside of you, squeezing the silicone bulb firmly. You gasp as you felt every drop paint your walls white, drowning inside you.

You twitch in discomfort, your head thrashing side to side, your cheeks hitting the wrinkled sheets. Mutely screaming, teeth gnashing at the air, refusing to accept the inevitable. Natasha peppers your face with kisses to calm you down.

Whispering declarations of love, you restrain any more tears to escape. Wanda cups your belly, it was very subtly swelled from the massive load. “Look how much went inside, Nattie.” Wanda alleviating your distress by small circular motions.

Natasha halts her kisses. She titters a bit, “Well, I’m not surprised. Two enhanced soldiers will deliver a copious amount of cum.” Natasha joins in on the soothing strokes by her fingers. A splotchy memory of Steve and Bucky wickedly smiling while your drunk-self was dragged away to your fate.

Betrayal.

Two people you trusted for years – who you considered close friends — played a role in this capture of enforcing a life of motherhood upon you. You didn’t realize lone tears were trickling down your face until you felt a thumb wipe away.

“Don’t fret, milacik. This will be good for you. For all of us. We know what you need.” Wanda kisses your waist and travels upward your chest in a trail of kisses; as she climbs on you, cuddling by your side, wrapping her arm around your hips, and a leg around yours.

“We’ll treat you so well. Like a queen.” Natasha loosens her grip on your arms, easing the aches in your muscles, but detaining you, to ensure you won’t escape from their grasp. Natasha plants a leg over your legs, positioning next to Wanda’s, sandwiched, and suffocating.

Laxing your body from stiffening under their touch, just trying to mindlessly drift into an impending hazy slumber. “Let’s rest. We’ll tell Bucky and Steve the good news later.” Natasha says in a lulling tone, as both women cuddle to squeeze much closer to you as if they want to reside underneath your skin — tightly, and smothering.

Sedately, your eyes close. Tentatively, their breathing morphs into your focal point, to hear Natasha’s and Wanda’s settle into steady rest. Urgently needing your privacy in sound, and body --- away from nosey intruding psychic.

As you lay there, mute and digesting the perverse treachery like a dry pill ripping down your throat, your tongue weighing heavy, barely registering reality.

Murky thoughts try to align in correction, not to bemoan over the guile that is Natasha and Wanda that was akin to pistoling barrage upon your spirit.

The soft fabric of the pudgy pillow wedged underneath you was burning against your bum, an indicia that could compel an unsought future. The tact to force maternity upon your life, your womb is now without doubt, fertilizing soldier swimmers.

What can you do now? How can you battle against the odds of the inevitable? Cuffed emotionally, and intimately by ex-friends deformed into duplicitous lovers who are now dead to you, and buried in deep, fresh graves in the crevices of your heart.

You must learn from the suffering, and brace the ugliness of being a fool. Your shudder, and bite back a sob as jagged remnants began floating behind your lids of last-night that was thick of debauched moans as slim fingers plunging into your cavern; it was a fleeting splash of excitement but it simmered and dwindled into a piercing ache in your chest.

It was euphoric, but not simply euphoric, there was fear and confusion intertwined too. For many years, you had grappled many weights of trauma, but you couldn’t stomach two damaged hearts.

Love me, love my dog — or so the saying goes. Can you handle being a mother? Are you even capable of being a good mother? You almost snort at the ridiculous notion.

What if aborti--- Jesus, you wouldn’t be able to go far with that option. It’s not even a fucking option. ‘Not with these two.’ You internally huff.

So you’ll wait. Wait it out, move in silence, map out your next course of action. Figure out escapes, leaving behind your life as an Avenger, and the only family you’ve ever had — just be quiet, comply and wait.

All you could do is wait.

#apridec1 #buckybarnesplumwhore wrote this #dark natasha romanoff #dark wanda maximoff #dark natasha x reader #dark wanda x reader #dark natasha romanoff x reader #dark wanda maximoff x reader #dark marvel #scarletwidow #wlw

398 notes · View notes

the-mad-starker · 4 years ago

Text

Starker Smut: Perks and Quirks of Being Tony Stark's Bestie

Based off this ask sent by @starkeristheendgame :

Are you even friends if you don't try to out-cum each other? (Could also be out-fuck)

Ty for sending that ask! It really got me inspired and motivated to write (which hasn't happened in so long so 😭💗) I feel like this fic is a bit odd but 🤷🤷 also, if the formatting's weird, sorry 😭 Tumblr fighting me on this

Notes: College AU, same age Starker, porn watching (some straight porn then gay porn), handjob, friends with benefits? Friends to lovers? (I also like to think Oblivious Idiots in love 😅)

WC: 3674 (AO3) 💗💗💗 There are certainly perks to being Tony Stark's best friend. Peter knows it well but he's never taken advantage. It's always been Tony that pushes him into accepting things or just drags him along for the ride. It'd been that way since they met in high school and while Peter got into MIT on his own merit, he never would've been able to afford the cozy two bedroom apartment five minutes away from campus on his own.

"As if I'd let my best friend stay in the dorms," Tony had scoffed with a roll of his eyes, "You'd think you'd know better by now, Petey baby. You're stuck with me so just shut up and say yes." There are certainly perks but then there's… other stuff. Tony's been called the genius of their generation but he also has a few weird quirks that Peter's not sure anyone else would understand. Or at least there'd be a few raised eyebrows if they knew.

When Peter walks into their apartment, he expects Tony to be furiously working on something in the kitchen or living room. If he's in the kitchen, whatever he's working on would definitely not be food.When Peter walks into their apartment, he expects Tony to be furiously working on something in the kitchen or living room. If he's in the kitchen, whatever he's working on would definitely not be food. He's not in either of the rooms so Peter pads over to Tony's bedroom. The door's unlocked and Peter unsuspectingly walks in. As expected, he finds Tony there and the other boy is sitting on his bed. Given the heat, it's not surprising that he's wearing a white tank top but little else. His pants are in a crumpled mess on the floor which leaves him in just his boxers. This is where most people would jump back or run away because Tony isn't just lazing around in bed. Nope, Tony has his headphones in and he's lazily jerking off, eyes fixed on the laptop screen in front of him. Peter's attention is caught by the slow, captivating strokes his friend makes as he plays with himself. It's only natural that that's where Peter's eyes go. The way Tony touches himself is almost hypnotic. His cock is flushed pink and Peter can see that swollen tip poke out whenever the other boy strokes downwards, squeezing along the length until he reaches the base. Peter enjoys the view because Tony makes an attractive sight. Neither of them are really into sports but Tony's body is still solid with hard earned muscles. While Peter has his hyped up metabolism to thank for his lean body, Tony's probably earned his from all the hands-on work he does fixing cars and engineering. Watching Tony like this… It has to be a pavlovian response because this isn't anything new. It's actually become a habit, someone walking in on the other and casually inviting the intruder for a jerk off porn session. Once he sees what Tony's doing, his own body quickly heats up in anticipation. Peter huffs and leans against the doorway, angling his body to hide the evidence away. His arms cross over his chest and he feels his heart beating in excitement. "Do you have any decency?" Peter quips, voice pitched loud enough to get Tony's attention. "Should I come back later?" The other boy pauses and pulls off one of his headphones. Instead of being embarrassed like a normal human being, he grins at Peter. He looks happy to see him which probably isn't the normal response someone should have when their jerkoff session gets interrupted. "Hey, Peter," Tony says and gives his cock a few slow tugs while he talks. "How was class?" He lets go of his cock and gives a nice, slow stretch as though he'd been in that position for a while. It bobs in the air, slick with lube and still achingly hard. Peter sympathizes because his own cock has taken an interest and it's now straining against his pants. Peter then notices the wad of tissues in the small trash can by the bed and his nose wrinkles. "It was alright," he answers. "How many times did you do it already?" Tony follows his gaze and it's only then that he ruefully smiles at Peter. "Do it? You mean, come?" He laughs a little, "You're so weird, Peter. Can't even say come?" Peter blushes but doesn't back down. "You're the one jerking off in front of me," he retaliates. "If it's more than five, I'm leaving." "No, no, don't go," Tony protests. "It was, hmm, twice?" He

shrugs, "You can still catch up." Twice. Tony has already jerked off two times. There's no rule that they have to wait for each other to start but Peter considers saying there should be. "I have homework," Peter hedges, a clumsy excuse because when do they not have homework? Tony rolls his eyes and pats the space next to him. "All the better to get it all out of your system. C'mon, sit down already," he says in an attempt to convince Peter. "Besides, I want your opinion on this vid." Peter pretends to consider it for a second but he's never needed much convincing. It's as he thought earlier, there are certainly perks to being Tony's best friend but then there's this… thing they have going on. Peter doesn't know what to classify it because it's not like they have sex with each other and they're definitely not dating. Tony's just like this, so carefree, curious, and wild. The older boy shows no hesitation when it comes to talking about porn or sex with Peter. It might just be Peter, though, because he's never caught Tony doing it with anyone else. Maybe mildly flirting but then, that's just Tony's personality. He likes to joke around, likes to flirt, and apparently likes to watch porn with Peter. Maybe Peter's the only one that isn't weird about this, about watching porn with a friend. He kind of likes that idea, that he's the only friend Tony does this with. "Okay, fine, fine," Peter says as he unbuttons his pants. Tony smirks at him once he sees how hard he is but Peter just rolls his eyes. What does Tony expect, really? It's pointless to try to hide it now. He does, however, nearly fold his pants and sets them aside because May taught him better. He moves closer and Tony scoots over to give him space. There's ample room on the bed, Tony has a king for some reason, but since they're watching the porno on Tony's laptop, Peter remains close enough that their knees touch. "Ready?" Tony asks but he immediately tugs the plugged headphones out. The telltale sounds of an adult film immediately spills into the room. High pitched moans and the dirty wet sounds of a mouth sucking on a cock. Tony's been on an oral fixation lately. The last two videos they've watched were blowjobs. They never really watch the same video twice because that defeats the purpose of Peter being there to critique it. He settles down in his spot, his left knee and elbow brushing Tony's while his right forearm rests on his thigh. His hand barely brushes against the bulge his erection makes in his boxers. "I'll give you a head start," Tony says to which Peter shushes him. The video that Tony's picked out today has a woman on her knees. She's working on her partner's cock, stroking whatever part of it that isn't in her mouth. Drool drips down her chin and her red lipstick is smeared on her face as she sucks her partner off. It's not exactly Peter's taste but he can tell the woman is Tony's type. Curly honey brown hair cut short to her shoulders. She reminds him of a girl next door type of person, someone he could bump into on the street and never realize she does these kinds of videos. He almost startles when he feels Tony nudge the bottle of lube against his arm. "Thanks," Peter says absentmindedly as he takes it. He's watching the video and his body is slowly starting to heat up. He only knows Tony's returned to jerking off because he feels the other boy's elbow bump against him. A glance to his side confirms it but when he looks up, a shock of heat sears through his body when their eyes meet. Tony doesn't look away so Peter has to. Heat blooms across his cheeks and crawls down his neck. He's always had a hard time looking Tony in the eye while they're doing this. The other boy's gaze is just always so intense like the subject to be investigated isn't the video but Peter. It's a silly thought though. "She's not as loud as the last one," Peter says to offset the awkwardness. His voice is calm and collected but inside, he's shivering from the memory of Tony's eyes on him. Peter squeezes his cock through his boxers. He's already so

hard that just touching himself like this has him trembling in pleasure. Without looking at his friend, he takes himself out. "Yeah," Tony agrees. He already sounds breathless and Peter dares to take a peek at him again. "It was a little distracting last time, all that moaning sounded really fake so I thought this might be better." Fortunately or unfortunately, Tony isn't looking at him this time. He's back to watching the screen, his hand curled around his erection and giving it the same slow teasing strokes as before. Maybe he's pacing himself since Peter still has to catch up. Peter hums in agreement and forces his eyes back to the video. It doesn't really keep his attention though and his mind wanders, eyes glazing over as he focuses more on the sounds filling the room. His mind seems more in tune with what's happening around him though and he zeros in on the sound of Tony's breathing as it turns into soft panting. His own breathing escalates to match his friend's and Peter jerks himself off to the sound of Tony's breathless panting, to the wet sound of flesh sliding against flesh next to him. He lets out a moan himself. It feels good to touch himself after a long day of classes and with Tony next to him, it feels even better. A sharp inhale next to him has Peter's back straightening as he looks at Tony who's biting down on his lip while watching the screen. Tony's eyes flicker to him and his white teeth press down on his bottom lip. "You better not come," Peter grits out even as he's holding back from releasing. "You– ah– You said you'd let me catch up." "Yeah, I won't," Tony grunts, "don't take too long though, I've been holding back for a while now." "Literally no one told you to," Peter says. His voice has lowered into a strained, breathy murmur. "I'm almost there so just– just wait, okay? You're distracting me." Tony rolls his eyes but ends up chuckling breathlessly. He stops stroking but starts massaging his balls. He lets out a moan as soon as he starts and that has Peter squeezing his eyes shut, his hips stuttering as he fucks his cock into his fist. His heart is going crazy and he stops fighting it. He spills right there, his load coming out hard and fast. It ends up getting over his stomach and he milks it out, squeezing the tip of the last few drops. When Peter finally finished, his nose wrinkles at the mess. "Should've taken your shirt off," Tony says, voice strained. Peter shoots him a friendly glare which softens when he finds that his friend is still holding back. Tony's face is flushed, his eyes bright with desperation. And yet, he hasn't come even when it's obvious he's ready to pop off. On the screen, the video is still playing but Tony grimaces. "Let's switch it up," he says while absentmindedly fondling his balls. "Sure." Tony leans forward a bit and uses the touchpad on his laptop to search around. Peter's trying his hardest not to stare at the other boy's erection. It doesn't soften in the least and Peter just wants to reach out and touch it. He wants to feel the warmth of Tony's skin, wants to hear what kind of noises Tony will make if he dares to do it. To touch Tony… "Okay, this'll be a little different," Tony says when he leans back into position. "But I don't think you'll mind. Tell me if you do and I'll find something else." A new video starts and Peter glances at it without much interest. Then he almost does a double take when he sees it's two men on the screen. Tony's never put in a gay porno before, he couldn't have chosen one now… Could he? "A threesome?" Peter says curiously. His heart is pounding and then it goes into overdrive when the two men start making out. "I can look for one next time if you want?" Tony offers. When Peter looks at him, the other boy has a lazy smirk. He's not bothered at all by the two men kissing on screen and Peter swallows down the spit in his mouth. "No, this is… this is good. It's fine," Peter says. He tears his eyes away and returns to the video. "You're hard again," Tony comments nonchalantly. Peter looks down and yeah…

Yeah, he's hard. He's watching a gay porno with his friend. Tony either picked up that this is more to Peter's preference or… Or this is Tony's preference, too. Either option makes Peter want to run away or hide under a blanket. He does neither because he's not going to make this weird. "You have good taste," Peter says, "They're both really hot." Tony chuckles beside him. "Damn right, I do." They both fall silent and they're both more engrossed in this film. Peter actually takes the time to invest in what's going on. Both men are attractive and hot as hell. They don't waste any time stripping each other off and the expanse of newly exposed skin has Peter squeezing his cock. Despite this, he can't help glancing at Tony. He can't help wondering. Their eyes keep meeting and this time, Peter doesn't look away. Neither does Tony. He greedily takes everything in, admiring the way Tony's hair, previously slicked back, is falling into his eyes. Tony's mouth is also slightly parted and a quick pink tongue flicks out to wet dry lips. Peter wants to bite at them. Something changes between them at this moment. They're watching both the film and each other. For Peter, his attention is clearly on Tony and it's Tony that's making his cock hard. But even if it feels like something's changed, Peter still toes the line of their friendship. "Are you getting close again?" Tony pants. He's struggling not to come. Peter can tell by how he's gently tugging on his balls in an attempt to hold off. Peter bites down on his lip cause he's not quite there yet but he wants to so badly. He wants to come with Tony watching him but he just can't seem to do it. "I don't think I can," Peter groans. "Ugh, Tony, I'm getting tired…" Something in his expression must give his frustration away because Tony shuffles closer which makes Peter's heart go berserk. Not only does Tony come closer but he moves behind Peter. His legs stretch out, bracketing Peter's body. Suddenly, Tony's so much closer. Too close for comfort because Peter had just said he couldn't come but like this, it'd be so easy. It fuels all sorts of dirty imaginations that he shouldn't be having about his friend but... "I got an idea," Tony says, pressed so close against Peter's back. Surely, he can feel Peter's heart thumping like crazy? "What do you– Oh…!" Peter's entire body would've basically jumped in the air if it isn't for Tony's arms around him. "It's not fun if I win all the time, so we should at least end this in a tie, right, Pete?" Tony says. "Lemme help, okay?" Peter's wide-eyed and his hips buck uncontrollably when Tony's hand settles over his own. There's no mistaking what Tony wants to do. He shudders when Tony grips his cock. Those sturdy fingers that Peter often admires press down on him causing him to tighten his grip on his cock. Tony's touching him… Tony's touching his cock. Tony wants to help jerk him off. Peter might just come right then and there. "Tony– You're… touching me…" The words come out as an embarrassing squeak but Peter can scarcely believe it. "Mhmm…" Tony murmurs, amusement in that one single hum. Peter had just started the obvious so of course, he'd be amused. In any other circumstances, maybe Peter would be too. Instead, he feels like he's dreaming. He's looking down at his body, specifically between his legs where Tony's tanned hand is curled around his. "C'mon, Pete, either move your hand or I'll move it for you," Tony says right into his ear. That gets Peter moving and he starts stroking again, clumsy with the added weight of another hand. It shouldn't feel good because their hands are bumping and Tony being pressed against him is making him so… so flustered. But it does feel good. it feels so good that Peter's fighting tooth and nail not to come right away. He doesn't want this to end yet. Eventually, Tony does take over. When he pulls Peter's hand off by the wrist, Peter just shudders and lets him. His hand falls to the side and he grabs the bed sheets just to have some sort of anchor. He squeaks when Tony adds more

lube. "Sorry. Here, I'll make you feel good…" Tony promises him and he keeps true to his word. He practices those smooth steady strokes on Peter's cock and Peter recognizes the motion. It turns him on so much, he's clenching his teeth to hold back all those embarrassing moans that want to escape. "Tony…" Peter gasps. "I-It feels..." "Too slow? Too soft?" Tony chuckles. "I got you, Pete. Relax and lemme take care of it." Peter squeezes his eyes shut as Tony increases his pace. His grip tightens a little but it's enough to have Peter gasping out his name again. It's exactly what Peter needs and he whimpers, hips twitching toward the delicious friction Tony's hand provides. His ears burn from the wet sounds Tony's hand makes while he's jerking him off, all those embarrassing squelches and not to mention the feeling… Tony's grilling him just right, giving him a warm, wet hole to thrust his cock into… How can something so simple as another person touching him feel so much better than his own hand? His hips continue to move, thrusting into his friend's tight grip. He's so aware of every point of contact between their bodies. "Isn't this weird?" Peter starts to babble, "The porn was one thing but Tony– You're touching my– Isn't this too much?" "Is it? I'm just trying to get you caught up," Tony says as though it's entirely reasonable. Then he chuckles and Peter shivers at the warmth of his breath fanning across his nape, "Are you even friends if you don't try to out-come each other?" It's so ridiculous that it makes Peter huff out a laugh even while his cock is now a leaking mess in Tony's fist. "You're ridiculous–" he gasps. "And you're about to cum," Tony says. Peter can hear the triumph in his voice. It's the last thought he has before Tony's hand squeezes him just right. He's coming before he even realizes it and the outpouring of pleasure has him arching his back, gasping and shuddering in ecstasy. Tony's arms keep him grounded, pressed as he is against the front of his friend's body. "Oh, fuck, yeah," Tony breathes. His head hangs between his shoulders and it's in the perfect position to see how his load comes spilling out of his cockhead, all messy and being milked out by his friend in gentle squeezes. He feels something hot and hard poke against his back. Oh, yeah… Tony still hasn't come. Despite having his orgasm milked out of him, Peter's body is still hot. Actually, it's even worse now because Tony's arms are still around him. Tony's face is still buried against his neck, his breath adding fuel to the heat inside him with every puff of warm air against his sensitive skin. The video has long since ended and Tony doesn't seem to care about putting another one on. It's just them now with no excuse for what they're doing. Peter leans back and he can feel Tony's cock rub against him, so hot and demanding. Tony grumbles when Peter pulls away but he doesn't get the chance to complain. Peter shoves him so he's lying flat on his back, those familiar brown eyes wide with surprise and arousal. "Since we're trying new things," Peter says, breathless and barely containing the urge to straddle Tony's hips. "Mind if I try something?" Tony's hands curl into loose fists before they relax and he gives Peter a look that he's never seen before. Bedroom eyes… Now Peter understands what those words mean. By the curve of his smart mouth and the dark, hungry look in his eyes, he's inviting Peter to do whatever he wants with him. "I'm always up for new things," he says then smirks, "Quite literally this time." The amused look on Tony's face quickly fades when Peter settles between his legs. He leans down, takes a hold of the other boy's cock by the base to steady it. It twitches in his hand and Tony's eyes are fixated on Peter's lips hovering over his tip. Peter loves the way Tony's watching him. "I don't mind if you win this time, Tones," he says, "so don't hold back, okay?" With that said, he closes the distance and takes Tony's cock into his mouth.

#starker #madstarker writes #nff #college au #friends to lovers #mads is a mess

132 notes · View notes

ad1thi · 4 years ago

Text

2020 fic recs!! [Part 2]

part 2 of my 2020 fic recs!! as before, ive limited this to five fics per month; and fics are ordered by the month they were published. This spans fandoms and ships, and hopefully you find something you like!! credit for the idea goes to @iam93percentstardust

***

July

this is the start: @capnwinghead

Clark and Bruce continue raising the Wayne children and encounter a number of challenges along the way.

great minds (love alike): @starklysteve

Steve’s eyes flicks down to Tony’s knees on the floor.

“Are you – are you proposing to me with my ring for you?” Steve asks incredulously, eyes wide and confused.

---

Or, Steve finds Tony’s ring for him, Tony finds Steve’s ring for him. Panic happens.

Marvels Unsolved: @iam93percentstardust

Marvels Unsolved was never supposed to be this popular. It started off as a novelty web-series about Tony trying to convince Bucky about the existence of the supernatural—he firmly believed that if science could turn Uncle Steve from an actual shrimp to the god of muscles, then magic had to be out there—and then they’d started talking about an unsolved crime from the early 20th century after filming an episode one day, forgetting that the camera was still rolling, and had ended up with enough footage to make a second episode about real crimes. They had stayed pretty unknown throughout that first season but then true crime podcasts had exploded in popularity and Unsolved along with them.

it’s a small world after all: @maguna-stxrk

“Great speech.”

Smiling at the compliment, Tony turns around. “Thank y—”

And nearly drops his champagne flute.

His world comes to a stop.

They had only spent a night together, but Tony would recognize those baby blues anywhere.

It’s Steve.

Steve from Tony’s London business trip. Or, as Rhodey has become accustomed to calling him—The Soulmate That Got Away.

you’re in my blood, you’re in my veins: @nethandrake

Tony always figured that if they ever were to break up, it would be like a blaze. Scorching and hot and all-too blinding. Intense like the two of them have always been.

Instead, they break up on a Tuesday, with the rain pelting the windowpane and the midnight silence stifling.

August

Five Times Danny said he’d marry Steve (plus one): @five-wow

Danny humphs. “Look, all I’m saying is, I think I’d probably have married you by now.”

“I’d marry you, too,” Steve says.

Or: An experiment in how many times you can say something before you have to put your money where your mouth is.

Family (You’ve Always Had It): @/SunnyQueen

A black Camaro and a scowling blond was not what Junior had been expecting.

“Hi, sir. You didn’t have to pick me up.”

The blond looked up from the screen on his phone and groaned, completely ignoring Junior's statement. “You are right, I didn't have to."

Ode To Yoga Pants: @riotfalling

OR the continued terrible mating dance of Bucky and Tony, AKA when betting on your friends stops being fun

Through The Years: @hawkbucks

Tony brings home Natasha one day, proclaiming her to be his new sister.

Natasha takes this all in stride.

The broken road that led me home to you: @just-fandomthings

A documented list of conversations between Steve and Danny via text and phone call following the events of 10x22 "Aloha." (Where, even thousands of miles apart, Steve and Danny can't go without talking to each other.)

September

someday, we’ll pass it on to you: @starklysteve

Steve smiles.

Reaching up, he flattens his hand against his son’s far smaller one, curling gently around it. “You wanna be like him?”

“Da!” Peter agrees again.

One year old, and you already know who’s the best of us, Steve pauses to reflect, all his fears chased away by a fierce pride. “Your Dad’s coming home real soon,” he promises, “you should tell him that.”

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

Or, five times Peter did the repulsor pose as a toddler

+ one time he used the repulsors as an adult

Classic Sci Fi: @notdoingsohot

Bucky wakes up to Steve telling him he's lost his memory, but not to panic, it'll only last a few days. Easier said than done when the last thing Bucky remembers is fighting Hydra with the Howlies in WWII.

He tries to make the most of it however, and there's this guy... Tony Stark. It's pretty clear the guy hates Bucky's guts, which is unfortunate because god damn is he a sight.

He tries to figure out what he did to wrong Stark, but everyone just tells him he doesn't want to know.

They were right.

Blooms in Frost: @/Diomedes

Tony coughs up his first petal on the sixth of July. He has been married to the love of his life for two years.

Bury a Hanahaki corpse in earth and it will beget the most beautiful garden. All that love, it is said, must go somewhere.

Hanahaki AU: Established relationship

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

A Single Thread of Gold: @lovelyirony

Rhodey doesn't believe in love at first sight or any of that cheesy shit. He just wants someone who is nice, dependable, and safe.

Tony Stark is Housing Service's little problem for the school year, and now he's stuck in Rhodey's room because he's exploded the last two dorm rooms he's been in and won't live off-campus.

high roller, place your bet: @machi-kun

“Would you kiss Stark for a hundred bucks?”

“I would pay a hundred bucks to kiss him.”

October

press my luck: @omg-just-peachy

But... Steve is almost ten years his junior, and he could be with just about anyone, looking and acting like he does. And then there’s the not so small fact of Tony’s name and net worth and the fact that, okay, Tony had paid for Steve’s grad school tuition, and now he’s worried Steve feels obligated to stay. Or something.

Or, Tony is a billionaire, Steve is a grad student, and they learn to let themselves be taken care of.

see it with the lights out: @starklysteve

Tony goes on a business trip, and he does not - not at all - get jealous of Dodger hogging his husband's chest, a territory otherwise known as Tony's pillow.

(or, Steve goes on an Instagram spree and Tony misses home)

adulthood is looking both ways before you cross the street and getting hit by an airplane: @starkslovemail

It was a perfect plan, if Peter did say so himself.

The Buy In: @dracusfyre

For the ImagineTonyandBucky prompt: Mafia AU with Tony as the Boss (except he's a really good one, making the streets safe, keeping drugs away from kids etc) and Bucky as the detective sent to go undercover to catch him out but ends up realizing he's actually doing more good than harm and they end up falling in love

trinkets of your affection: @starklysteve

Kissed him once for every year I loved him, Steve had written.

By that count, Steve owes him five more kisses now.

Tony traces the words, hands trembling, and tips back a shot of Howard's ancient whiskey. None of it burns anymore.

One day, he'll have lived more days without Steve than there are words in the diary.

For the first time since he'd woken with shrapnel in his chest, Tony fears the future.

----------

Or, five things Tony keeps to remember Steve by, and one thing Steve gives him to remember.

November

“Hey Tony”: @riotfalling

Steve points out that Bucky never calls Tony by his actual name. Bucky doesn’t believe him, until he does.

Remembering You is Hard to Do: @lovelyirony

“The future’s crazy, honey-bear.”

Jim looks up.

“Why do you call me that?”

“Call you what?”

“Honey-bear. It’s weird.”

“Inside joke we have,” Tony says, chest tightening. “We thought those couples that have the lovey-dovey nicknames were ridiculous.”

overheard your heartbeat (calling me yours): @starklysteve

"Tony - "

"I wish I could promise to come home this time," he feels the armor crawl back down his arm, continuing unnoticed over Steve's red gloves, then up the blue uniform as Tony fights to keep Steve's gaze firmly fixed on him.

The last eyes Tony might get to see, and he wants to be lost in them.

In the end, his entire life boils down a few simple things: "JARVIS, take care of him for me."

----------

Or, Tony overhears a phonecall where Steve proposes, a battle happens, and a paper ring settles some misunderstandings.

i (really, really, really, really, really, really) like you.: @nethandrake

For as long as Steve can remember, he's been crushing on Tony Stark. The thing is, he's pretty sure Tony doesn't know Steve exists. And how could he? Steve's scrawny and little. He's a nobody compared to Tony who's Mr Popular and the son of a billionaire.

Or at least he thought so until Tony swings by the bakery Steve's mother happens to own to enlist Steve's help in finding the perfect Valentine's Day card.

The perfect Valentine's Day card for someone who isn't Steve.

One Song (My Heart Keeps Singing): @iam93percentstardust

When Thor is old enough to understand what a Heartsong is, he goes to his mother to ask her why he can’t understand the language his is in. He listens as she tells him about the first soulmates who couldn't understand their Heartsong until the day they meet, excited by the thought of a grand adventure, one that will take him across the cosmos in search of his One.

He’ll search all the Nine Realms if he has to.

December

Swiping Right: @s-horne

“Ouch. Definitely a hard pass for that one?”

Steve startled at the sudden comment from the row of chairs behind him and turned around. He’d been passing the time in the airport lounge by swiping through Tinder and had gotten lost in his own world. It was almost jarring to be pulled away from the screen of hot men and back into reality where the PA was screeching and there was noise everywhere.

Adjusting to the difference, Steve frowned. Wait, he knew that face. Oh, shit… he knew that face.

“No, no, it’s fine,” the man said before Steve could get out anything other than an embarrassed sort of yelp. Waving his hand through the air, the stranger smiled ruefully. “I get it. It’s the beard, isn’t it? True be told, it was a weird winter choice that year and I knew it would come back to hurt me.”

Steve didn’t know what to say. He knew it must have shown on his face and could feel himself flushing, panicked and embarrassed all at once. What were the odds of swiping left on someone literally sat behind him?

set your flight path home (to me): @starklysteve

Tony puts down his welding torch. “I’m building you a plane.”

Stepping carefully over the gears and tools scattered about, Rhodey slowly makes his way to him.

“And when did you become an expert on how to build a plane?”

“Last night,” Tony grins.

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

Tony builds a plane, and Rhodey teaches Tony how to fly it. Or he would be teaching Tony, if Tony didn't distract him so much.

I Want A Man With A Slow Hand: @thefourofswords

“Can I ask you a question?” he asked on their way to a crime scene, because no time like the present, and Danny believed in ripping off band-aids.

“Why not?” Steve replied, eyes on the road. “You’re gonna even if I say no.”

“What do you like in bed?”

Danny undertakes a very important mission to get Steve laid. For his health. Ahem.

same time next year: @omg-just-peachy

“I forgot to ask. When’s your flight home?” Steve asks, draping his arm over Tony’s shoulder and settling in against him.

Tony ignores the knot that forms in his chest at the idea of it, leaving Steve again for his own impersonal apartment, his piles of books and projects and the nights without sleep.

“Day after tomorrow.”

Steve huffs a little sigh, then brings his lips to Tony’s neck. “Well, we’ll have to make the most of it, won’t we?”

Or, four (4) Christmases with two (2) idiots who can't admit they're in love.

rearrange my heart (to fit your smile): @starklysteve

"You dare," Howard's chair makes an ugly noise as it scrapes against the stone floors, the chatter of the room shifting into hushed whispers and stolen glances. "I am your father and your King!"

"My King is my husband," Tony tips his chin up, defiant. "And I refuse to hear you suggest that my husband has been anything other than good to me."

Next to him, he feels Steve's shoulders stiffen in surprise.

Howard's fist slams loud on the table. "Your husband does not even love you!"

Tony jerks back, burned. He knows that. Knows that Steve did not marry him for love – does not need any reminder of the cold truth, of what he desperately yearns for and can't even hope to have – but the harshness of Howard's words was scalding, and Tony can't afford for this to go any further.

----------

Or, King Steven marries Prince Tony, Tony is pretty sure he shouldn't panic when he falls in love with his own husband, and Steve tries his very best not to cause diplomatic crises.

Keyword: try

#adi's rec list #superbat #superhusbands #winterironfalcon #mcdanno #buckytony #peppernat #superfamily #rhodeytony #ironfamily #and that's a wrap!!!

162 notes · View notes

funkymbtifiction · 4 years ago

Text

Finding my Si: a submission

I’d like to share 6 things that helped me discover my Si and how Charity’s advice helped me, in case it helps anyone else :)

1.It helps when friends and family tell you what they think your dominant function is. Like a fish not realizing the water is wet, it’s so normal that it’s invisible to you. My mum picked Si the minute I asked her which function described me best; she said, ‘You trust your personal experiences and refer back to them all the time; it’s like an anchor for you. You rely on the past to get you through the present.’ One by one, my friends picked the same, pointing to how I recollect everything from the date we first met to changes in their food preferences to the color of the shirt they wore one Monday morning. I never realized the enormity of the storehouse of detail in my head until they pointed out that not everyone treasures memory-keeping in the same way. I wouldn’t say Si memory is photographic; for me, it’s more like a fisherman’s net, where I gather in what matters to me. I see a living mosaic of past and present when I look at people and places I love.

2. Being willing to question my own assumptions. An unflinching look at what I actually do, not what I think I do.

I considered Ni when I thought of goals I’ve set. For example, I got into the same UK university at 18 that I’d loved at age 14. This story initially sounded as though I’d had a clear future vision, and never let go of the dream (Ni). However, I’d left out winding twists and turns in between. At 16, I was captivated by a Canadian university and considered going there for a while; at 17, I considered studying in New York. Eventually, I applied to a bunch of unis and got an offer from the original ‘dream one’ in England. It was the best offer and I’d remained fond of it, so I wound up going. I was pleased, but I’d been open to other unis and happy to go to them too. After reading the perspective of actual Ni-users on their laser-sharp vision, I realized mine wasn’t as unwavering, intense and single-minded.

Instead, I realized that the reason I treasure this story - 'I visited my uni when I was just a kid and then got to go there for good!’ - is that I liked being able to link my childhood self and adult self. I enjoy connecting the past and present and spotting continuity and change ('Back then, I did this…now I still do this…and I don’t do this….’). My mind always traces back to how things were, which spills over into dinner-table family conversations ('Do you remember when…?’/'You know how we used to…?’). I realized that this type of personal mythologizing and cherishing a living past is Si. I can set goals and work meticulously in a step-by-step IFJ way, but it is not a dominant personality trait in the strikingly single-minded, futuristic, visionary way that is Ni. For anyone considering Ni, I recommend looking up mbti-notes and Charity’s explanations here, as it is a very complex function and it helps to understand exactly how it works.

3. Painful honesty. Confronting flaws isn’t fun. However, as Charity says, it helps to think of pairs (Si-Ne, Ne-Si or Ni-Se) rather than functions in isolation.

I tried to determine which flaw I could most relate to: inferior Te, inferior Se, or inferior Ne.

I couldn’t identify with inferior Te because I’ve always been a careful planner and organizer; even my third-grade report cards said, ‘She loves being efficient and organizing her little space!’ Today, I have multiple administrative responsibilities at work and genuinely enjoy it. There’s something about streamlining systems and attending to details that feels satisfying (dorky, I know). I could not relate to inferior Se either, as sensory engagement has always been a big part of my life. Whether it’s dancing or nature hikes or cooking, hands-on hobbies have always been so core to me that I often find myself feeling one with the natural environment, rather than uncomfortable with it. I haven’t had reckless moments characteristic of inferior Se. But inferior Ne - those descriptions embarrassed me.

As Charity says, if something makes you go ‘ouch’, it might hit the nail on the head.

I thought I had good Ne because I can see multiple perspectives. But this is more a 9 and 2 influence ('Staying open-minded helps to understand people, help them, and resolve conflict’) and a skill honed through my job in peace-building. What trips me up are the problems plaguing inferior Ne users. Newness and novelty feels hard. My 9 probably plays into it, but in general I am not good at out of the box thinking and brainstorming dozens of different approaches. Despite my 2-9 positive outlook, I usually feel fearful of the unknown and find it difficult to speculate or imagine possibilities in the uncertain future.

4. It helps to see where your attention goes. When I teach and review students’ essays, I’ll start leaving comments about their word-choice in paragraph 3; the evidence they used on page 2; how their argument on page 12 risks contradicting their logic on page 10, etc. I can hold these details in my head with ease, suggest a clear structure, and spot incongruities, but I have to consciously remind myself to zoom out to comment on the overarching ideas in the work.

On the other hand, I notice when I do something creative or abstract because it’s not really what I do on a day to day basis. When I first began researching MBTI, I found it easy to recall the last metaphor I imagined because it stood out in my mind. But determining frequency helped. Not just how I think, but how often I think that way. Ne is a ‘play’ function for me - on good days, it’s a whimsical scribble in a poetry journal, occasional daydreams, self-improvement books on my shelf.

5. Being able to tease out finer differences in cognition. I got interested in a Royal Family controversy recently. I thought I was using Ni because I mused on the consequences for the nation (in a Ni-Fe way). However, I realized I was less interested in future possibility and more interested in what was helpful for interpersonal understanding (Fe/2-9) and how the country could preserve the traditions and culture built up over centuries (Si). Rather than preferring to look ahead and predict what would happen (Ni). It’s a fine line, but it helped to think: how often is my cognition located in the future vs the past? Which one feels more natural? Is it an Enneagram or an MBTI influence at play?

6. Avoiding sensor bias. I felt I must be an intuitive because I do engage in abstract conversation sometimes. It’s just that my topics of choice come from my Enneagram 269 tritype. How can schools treat children better? What can we do to promote community mental health? What keeps kids safer? My job is centered around people’s welfare, and I’d be happy to discuss theories of human psychology or relationships or mental health because I’m very absorbed in my little niche of knowledge. However, concrete applications interest me most, and I am not likely to start conversations about, say, 18th century theology or automated cars or space travel. My INFP and INFJ friends seem interested in a much wider range of philosophical conversation.

I agree with a post on this blog that pointed out that modern psychology now understands traits not as bimodal distributions (X or Y) but along a spectrum (how much of X? How much of Y?). People differ in where they lie along the spectrum. I’d say I’m close to the middle. My biggest tell that I lean towards sensing is when I look through philosophy books on human well being. Even though the topic reflects my interests, I’m quickly bored by too much theory. I’m happy to thrash out an idea with a friend, but it needs to be animated by real-life examples and practical applications for me to stay interested.

Above all, I recommend observing where your heart leads. Much of my free time goes into journal-writing, old albums, and time capsules. Detail-driven memory-keeping fulfills me deeply, and it was this deep joy that proved most helpful for recognizing my Si :)

#submission #isfj #istj

45 notes · View notes

demoiselledefortune · 4 years ago

Text

Post canon sangcheng fic recs for @runespoor7

(wooohoo that’s only 25 fics haha)

Silence by inberin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17441771

a conversation in the snow.

Wonderfully nuanced characterisation. It hints at whole relationship and dynamic with a lot of delicacy.

Windrose by offlight

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18997546

Nie Huaisang is forced into a coma to stop his qi deviation. Jiang Cheng is tasked with waking him up.

There’s a lot of intriguing dreamscapes in this one, and I love Jiang Cheng (and in the background Wei Wuxian)’s desperation and obstinacy.

All the innocence we give by shamiran

https://archiveofourown.org/works/18864910

Learning to renavigate the ground between them is easier than Nie HuaiSang expects. It's also harder than he could have imagined.

Just a sweet story.

Taste the wine off your lips by ExNihiIo

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20129245

A light pat lands against his back, and a cup of water is pushed in front of his face. “Not even Zi Shi, and you’re already tipsy?,” asks a teasing voice, while a thin hand puts down the cup. Jiang Cheng coughs a little more, shaking his head, and sends a dirty look at his host. “I am not tipsy.” “Hm, and yet your cheeks are all red. What would your disciples think, if they saw you in this state?” “They’d think about running away while they can. I can break legs more easily than I can drink alcohol.” A smile curves the edges of Nie Huaisang’s mouth, and he closes his fan with a curt jerk, sitting across the table. He’s wearing lighter clothes, Jiang Cheng notices, compared to the ones he had during the Discussion Conference. Where those had been tight and rigid against his body, these now fall softly on him, the large sleeves sweeping delicately as Nie Huaisang moves to pour himself a cup.

I like the melancholy tone of this one.

The light of autumn: you will not be spared by crooows

https://archiveofourown.org/works/19901467/chapters/47138221

Nie Huaisang arrives a week early for the conference which will be held in Yunmeng to discuss the position of chief cultivator.

[Title is from a poem called "October" by Louise Glück!]

A bit funny, a bit melancholy

You can run but you can’t hide by ThirtySixSaveFiles

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21119297

Nie Huaisang has noticed something about the way Jiang Cheng takes compliments; Nie Huaisang has a theory, and he intends to test it out.

Just Huaisang figuring out Jiang Cheng has a praise kink. Established pairing.

Evening Bloom by dragonofeternal

https://archiveofourown.org/works/20958518

Jiang Cheng is spry and lithe well into his twilight years, living well off Wei Wuxian's stolen youth; Nie Huaisang's golden core, on the other hand, has always been poor- he blacks his hair with ink and dyes, hides the pudge of indolence and the wrinkles of age behind the latest fashions and the finest fans. Perhaps for their peers, finding the space to be vulnerable came easy, but for them it's taken this long to maybe think of letting someone in.

I have a big weakness for stories about old people falling in love and this is one delivers very sweetly.

Four Days in Lanling by Halotolerant

https://archiveofourown.org/works/21722695/chapters/51817036

Nie Huaisang looks at him. ‘You are confusing me, Clan Leader Jiang, perhaps I misunderstand, but…’

‘You didn’t misunderstand. You don’t misunderstand. You understand all of it.’ For six months Jiang Cheng has been mulling this over, and now with Nie Huaisang in front of him he can’t figure out if he most wants to knock him down or kneel at his feet. What he does is try and breathe. Clench his hands at his sides. ‘And now I am going to ask you to do something for me. You have to do something for me. You have to help Jin Ling.’

Ok so perhaps it’s misrepresentating to call this a post canon fic since most of the action is mid-13-years-of-WWX-death but the fairly important framing part is post canon. Also it’s one of the best sangcheng fic out there and a must read.

Shadow eternal by rynleaf

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23162944/chapters/55439032

“You want me to distract the Chief Cultivator from the Annual Cultivation Conference, so you and other sect leaders can… what. Sign contracts without adult supervision?”

“If Jiang-zongzhu is amenable,” Sect Leader Ouyang repeats with a nod.

Jiang Cheng pinches the bridge of his nose. The pressure he felt building behind his eyes all morning is swiftly coalescing into a bitch of a headache. “Just what do you all think I’m capable of?”

Sect Leader Ouyang bows with a cheerful smile. “We have utmost faith in Sandu Shengshou’s abilities.”

In which a night hunt ends in disaster, Jiang Cheng catches a glimpse of Nie Huaisang's heart, and feelings are discussed after a certain fashion.

One that’s between sweet and angsty.

The way is shut, and we cannot go back by saltedpin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/23592523

One month since Guanyin Temple, and some people are coping better than others (or not).

This one is a mostly sad and bitter take on Jiang Cheng reacting to Nie Huaisang’s plot (and being very drunk).

Living memory by ghosthouses

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24827980

Once Jin Guangyao has left, he gives himself two indulgences. The first, a day to scream in his rooms made soundproof with a talisman. The second, a physical list written in code, to keep his older self, who will have let the pain dull with time, accountable for what must be done.

It has only two commandments:

He will die.

and

He will know.

Nie Huaisang puts it in his sleeve with the intention of keeping it with him at all times, to be added to but never reduced, a living memory of his task.

This and its prequel which you should also read is quite short but probably one of my favorite depictions of their dynamic (and probably one I find most plausible).

What’s Left of us by cangse-sanren

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24979081

“Well,” Huaisang tries hesitantly, “both of us seem to have a rather fraught relationship with things like older brothers and the concept of betrayal. And regret,” he adds as an afterthought. "Perhaps you just understand me more than most."

Yet another that dwells into Jiang Cheng reacting to Nie Huaisang’s plan. I really like that take although it’s barely shippy (and quite short).

Descending by lightningwaltz

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25296595

“I want to… to not be embarrassed.”

“To not be embarrassed during what?”

“During sex.” There. Jiang Cheng can say it. “In general. Also with you right now.”

“Very good.”

“When did you become so authoritative?” Jiang Cheng wants to sound irked, but can’t quite manage anything beyond nervous curiosity.

Very interesting fic and in many ways unusual. I’d say it’s hypnosis kink, but it’s much more character driven than that. With a context of established FWB arrangement between Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang.

Tell him that I miss our little talks by xiaolongbaobei

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232023

the post-canon fic where Jiang Cheng becomes the Chief Cultivator, realizes that it's not too late to fall in love and learns to ask for what he wants

Longish fic exploring Jiang Cheng as Chief cultivator working with Nie Huaisang and slowly falling in love with him. I adore this one, and not only because I love fics that explore the idea of Jiang Cheng as chief cultivator.

Blind for Love by manamune

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25760272

Jiang Cheng is poisoned with an aphrodisiac and needs to orgasm repeatedly in order to flush it from his system.

The first person he thinks of going to for help is Nie Huaisang, who does what any good friend would do: he shoves his three decades worth of feelings for Jiang Cheng deep into the recesses of his mind, locks them up so he can pretend they don’t exist, and then fucks him so hard that he passes out.

Mostly a long smutty piece, but with a lot of fun character bits along the way.

A Tight-Knit Family by aldalin

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25500481/chapters/61862899

“Jing Ling, we need to talk.”

Jin Ling has too many uncles, and he’s about to get another.

Sect Leader Jiang announces his marriage to Sect Leader Nie.

A fairly different take, more focused on Jin Ling and Wei Wuxian reacting to Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang’s relationship.

A trip to Qinghe by Scorpiwriting

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26974741

An unexpected hunt forces Jiang Cheng to leave the Lotus Pier a bit earlier than he had anticipated, so he decides to send Jin Ling to Qinghe, for the sake of not sending him back to Lanling so soon: it turns into a learning experience for the young sect leader, who gets to peek into the life of the Headshaker.

or.

Jin Ling learns that not everything people say is true and that perhaps there is some merit to art. He also learns that loneliness is a dark beast and that his uncle should definitely do something about it.

Another one more focused on Jin Ling’s reaction to it. Honestly more of a gen piece about Jin Ling and Nie Huaisang, but an interesting one.

Silver bracelets on their wrists by mercurious

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25797715

“Can’t I find excuses to visit an old friend?”

Ok so this one is a bit fucked up in interesting ways. It combines Chief Cultivator Jiang Cheng and explicit longing about Wei Wuxian, and BDSM as catharsis. It’s a fascinating piece.

Welcome to love by amphigoric

https://archiveofourown.org/works/22412866/chapters/53549794

Desire, Jiang Cheng learned, flourished even in love’s absence. It surged hot and fast through his veins at the sight of Nie Huaisang’s spread thighs, marks still lingering from the last rendezvous they had. He felt it burning through his chest as Huaisang raked lines down his back, breaths coming in short, desperate gasps: “Jiang Wanyin, Jiang Wanyin, please, please.”

It’s a little bit clumsy at times, but also very passionate and intense in a way I still find compelling. Featuring a lot of self sabotaging Jiang Cheng.

When your stitch comes loose by heyninja

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27868454/chapters/68234434

Sometimes people see you for who you really are. Sometimes because you let them. Sometimes whether you like it or not.

A triptych of collisions between Nie Huaisang and Jiang Cheng.

Only the last part is post canon but it’s the most important part, isn’t it?

Peel your heart like a pomegranate by Izumi_silverleaf

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29458974

"It's an extraordinary feeling when parts of your body are touched for the first time. I'm thinking of the sensations from sex and surgery."

Sometimes you just need to read a very hot guro fic. It’s a weird fic but it’s a cool one.

If you give a Nie a cushion by LesbianLazerOwl

https://archiveofourown.org/works/29470236

Prompt: Long enough After Canon that everyone's mostly okay these days, Jiang Cheng and Nie Huaisang get drunk and wind up comparing masturbation habits; each is aghast at how the other spends their personal time.

Funny and hot

To Distraction by isozyme

https://archiveofourown.org/works/27763816

It’s the third night of Yunmeng’s kite festival celebrations. Nie Huaisang has come visiting, eager to partake in the food, the arts, and Jiang Cheng.

Jiang Cheng wants to forget. Nie Huaisang has some new lube and wants to see if he can put his whole fist in somebody’s ass.

Established pairing in which Nie Huaisang fists Jiang Cheng. It’s hot.

Safe in Your arms by Dragon_scribe

https://archiveofourown.org/works/30070503/chapters/74058315

In the aftermath of a night hunt gone (very) wrong, Jiang Cheng wakes up to find himself in the Unclean Realm. As he recovers from his injuries, he and Nie Huaisang grow closer and as time passes, their friendship begins to shift to something more.

Very sweet/sappy and hurt/comfort orientated, with a small bit of reconciliation dimension too.

#mo dao zu shi #sangcheng #jiang cheng #nie huaisang #fic recs

48 notes · View notes

eclecticvalor · 4 years ago

Text

7 Things I experience as a DID System. Mental Health Awareness Month.

In light of May being America’s mental health awareness month, I wanted to talk about something that has consumed my entire life for the past year and a half: Treatment and healing from a disorder that is stigmatised into the ground by poor representation and misunderstandings both socially and in the medical field. Those who are close to me know first hand how my symptoms and experiences have shaped the way I interact with the world since starting treatment, but aside from my closest friends and family, and the people I live with, I don’t normally talk about the fact that I have Dissociative Identity Disorder, and what that means to me.

Hi. My name is Atlas, some people call me Cadyn, and I am the primary host of 26 fragmented parts of my consciousness. I am not dangerous, none of my parts or alters are dangerous, and no, it is not like “Split”.

Dissociative Identity Disorder is a trauma based dissociative disorder listed in both the DSM IV and V, and is recognized as an uncommon disorder characterized by two or more distinct personality states existing within the same consciousness. These personality states come to be when natural childhood development is disrupted by severe, continued, or repetitive, trauma, the child has a natural inclination towards heavy dissociation, and a lack of adult or parental support to develop the means to cope with the things happening to them.

Unfortunately popular mental health media has seen an uptake in people viewing DID as a quirky “trait”, the ability to have functional imaginary friends living in your head... but in reality DID is a lot darker, a lot scarier, and isn’t something I’d wish upon my worst enemy. Because of this media spike I wanted to share 7 things that living with Dissociative identity disorder means to me

1. Amnesia

Living with DID means that I miss out on a lot of my life. A primary symptom of DID is amnesia. I have no solid memories before the age of 13, and the memories I do have are often skewed, incorrect, or completely false as my brain fought for a way to fill in gaps and cope with the loss of memory. I forget a lot, and not just things like forgetting where I left my wallet and keys, or forgetting the day - those do happen, but I also mean forgetting big things, important life experiences and things I wish with all my being that I could remember like my highschool graduation and my wedding reception.

I often forget important day to day things that make it difficult to maintain life as an adult, like doctors appointments, work schedules, meetings, and important daily tasks. I’ll forget that I’ve eaten at all that day and risk going days without eating, or overeating due to having no recollection of the last time I’d eaten. I forget birthdays (especially my own), anniversaries, and important holidays.

To an outsider, who has no idea what’s happening inside my head, this can come across as though I’m thoughtless or unreliable. That I am cold for forgetting an important date, or simply that I just don’t care when this very much is not the case.

2. Alienation

Oftentimes DID comes with a sense of alienation from people who you’re supposed to know. For me a really clear example of this is when I previously mentioned my childhood memories being skewed - I have a clear memory of a conversation I was having with some blood relatives a few years back in which I mentioned that one family member I had happy childhood memories of, and remembered playing together as kids, but with another family member they were practically a stranger to me. I had, and still have, no memories of ever spending time with them growing up, no memories of having any kind of relationship with them at all. My understanding of our relationship was that it was “forced” because we were family and our parents expected us to exist in the same space as we grew up, but that we never talked. But I was informed by a separate member of the family that I was very wrong, and this “stranger” was actually someone I had been close to growing up. This is a common experience with DID patients, and also a very frustrating one. It creates feelings of “You know me but I don’t know you”, and it’s extremely difficult to trust your own judgement of the people you know, because you often can’t tell if your judgement is skewed by your memories or lack thereof.

3. PTSD and Flashbacks

A diagnosis of C-PTSD (Or complex Post Traumatic Stress Disorder) is required for a diagnosis of Dissociative Identity Disorder. This means that while the individual symptoms of DID can be frustrating, scary and sometimes depressing, the most difficult aspect of DID, and the most important to focus on in treatment is the PTSD symptoms.

PTSD symptoms in DID can be extremely powerful due to the additional dissociative aspect. This can mean that for a lot of DID patients, flashbacks can produce full blown body sensations, hallucinations and terrifying delusions. This is One thing that I find incredibly difficult to talk about, but I also believe is extremely important to understand. It can be embarrassing, shameful and while I only speak for myself in saying this, can cause a lot of guilt and grief. There have been times where I have been experiencing powerful flashbacks and did not recognize my own husband, resulting in lash outs and fear towards him being delusioned into thinking that he was out to hurt me, or had harmful intent for just existing in the same space as I was.

For me, a single wiff of a familiar smell, hearing a sound, a certain color, an idea, a name, a passing thought or comment can throw my previously stable mental state into one of pure panic, hyperventilation, hallucination, delusion, fight-flight-freeze and reactionary responses. Through treatment I’ve developed adaptive and healthy coping skills and management responses but trauma responses can be so quick, and so unexpected that I don’t always have time to process my coping skills before my body and mind respond in negative ways.

4. Decision making and skewed Behavior

Because living with DID, means living with a shared or fragmented consciousness, this often means that while I may not remember, my life is still being lived during my time of memory loss. Alters or parts will take control and operate my body, reacting to things, interacting with people, completing tasks and functioning. But oftentimes parts who take control are very different from myself, and make choices and decisions that I wouldn’t normally make, and sometimes decisions I wouldn’t *ever* make. An example of this is the fact that technically I am a conservative voter, despite myself as an individual having leftist or NDP views, or decisions to leave or apply for jobs and work positions that I have no interest in, or that I don’t even have the qualifications or physique to do, or leaving ones that I personally loved and excelled at. This also reflects a lot in everyday life in more subtle things, decisions like what food to eat, things to buy, activities to do shift between parts while they’re in control.

To outsiders this can look a lot like impulsivity, lack of self-control, or lack of a sense of identity. This is a huge reason why a lot of DID patients are often misdiagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder or Bipolar Disorder because the behaviour between alters can be so drastically different that it can look a *lot* like manic or depressive states.

5. Denial and Dismissing Trauma

A very common experience among DID patients is denial and being dismissive or disregarding the things that happened to them. I often find myself in a state of questioning whether my symptoms, my disorder, and even my trauma were ever real to begin with. In therapy I find myself saying “It’s not that big of a deal” or “It wasn’t that big of a deal” more times than I’m actually saying anything productive. A huge part of this is why I wanted to make this list, because the media, and a lot of medical circles deny that DID exists or believe it’s impossibly rare and those, while both false, can cause intense feelings of “Maybe I’m just doing this for attention”. DID is a very real, very difficult disorder to diagnose, to treat, and to live with disorder, and while it is uncommon, statistics show that approximately 1-2% of western population is diagnosed, and up to a suspected 7% are living with the disorder undiagnosed because of these misconceptions. It is not common, and it’s not something that everyone is going to have, but it is a very possible response to very real trauma and is a valid diagnosis to give to those meeting the criteria.

6. Hidden Symptoms

DID is often referred to as a “covert” presenting disorder. What this means is that most commonly outsiders, friends, family, employers and even the patient themselves can have a nearly impossible time recognizing the symptoms, and it often goes unnoticed until an event destabilizes the function of the person’s life. This can lead to a lot of backlash or denial coming from peers and family close to the person. This leads to the patient hearing a lot of: “I’ve never noticed personality changes”, “You don’t act like you have it”, “You couldn’t possibly have that”, “No, I would have noticed”, “You have to be mistaken”, “There’s no way, it would have been obvious”. And so, so much more. The reality of DID is that it’s *not* noticeable. It’s a safety response that the brain created to protect the psyche from the intense damages that come with long term trauma experiences, so it’s often designed to hide itself from abusers or perceived threats as a way to compartmentalize trauma memories and maintain the ability to survive through stress and unstable situations. Not being able to “notice” is kind of the point in most cases.

7. Wandering and Dissociative Episodes

Living with untreated or unmanaged DID can potentially be dangerous due to episodes of dissociation, “wandering” experiences (where the patient will wander away from home, family, or life in a confusion, attempt to return to a perceived life never lived, or in a state of belief that their current life is unsafe). For me this took a head last year, and was actually an event that led to the solidification that this disorder was the explanation to my experiences. According to nurses and my husband, I had wandered into the emergency room of a hospital in the middle of the night, with no idea who or where I was, with no idea how to return home, or even where home was. I was wearing a t-shirt, and it had been raining, and my body was so cold they needed to retake my vitals nearly 6 times because they were unable to get an appropriate reading. After discovering my identity, my husband was called to take me home. Working with a therapist helped to develop a safety plan during events like this to prevent harm from coming to my body, or from ending up in newly traumatic environments, but I was lucky. These situations can lead to re-traumatization, victimization, it can lead to kidnapping, assault, it can lead to being injured or harmed by environmental factors and so much more and it is so incredibly important that DID patients work with their therapist to develop solid safety plans proactively to make sure that the patient doesn’t experience any worst case scenarios during episodes like this.

Conclusion

My experiences are individual to me, and to my psyche. Not everyone will experience the disorder the same way, because not everyone experiences or responds to trauma the same way. I am so lucky, and extremely privileged to be able to access consistent care and treatment, that I found a professional who trusts me, and is focused on stabilizing and supporting. Too many people living with this disorder have no access to supportive mental health care because of the misconceptions that parts of the medical field hold regarding the legitimacy or frequency that the disorder develops, and too many peers and circles of people outcast or disregard the very real, very difficult experiences because they don’t understand the disorder, or believe it doesn’t exist, or believe it looks like split. If you, or someone you know is struggling with Dissociative symptoms, or dissociative identity disorder do not be afraid to reach out to a professional for support, and educate yourself on the reality of the disorder.

#dissociative identity disorder #DID System #dissociation #mental health awareness #mental illness #mentalhealthawareness #mental health #actuallydissociative #dissociative amnesia #education #psychotherapy #experience #actuallytraumatized #trauma #actuallydid #did/osdd

41 notes · View notes

immortalcoelacanth · 4 years ago

Text

Between the Walls, Chapter 5: Turtles, Bees, and Hybrids in Between

*drags self out of hole and drops chapter*

God this was a struggle to write with school but here we are! Clocking in at either the second or third longest chapter I've ever written for a fic! Please forgive me if there's any spelling errors!

... I didn't help that every time I opened the doc I use to work on this it kept opening up to the chapter that involves Dream XD

Word count: 9016 (yes, you read that right)

Summary: Tubbo sets out to reunite with Tommy, Tommy makes a new friend, and a ghost unintentionally makes their reunion harder.

“Where did you take Tommy?!”

“Keep it down, kid, or else you’ll get in trouble!”

“I don’t care! Where is he?!”

For the past several days, Tubbo had been trying to figure out where Tommy had been exiled to. He had interrogated practically all the other borrowers who had been involved in kicking his friend, his brother, out of the only home he had ever known.

All the borrowers other than the one responsible for actually taking him to where he was exiled to, that is. Fortunately, finding the woman had not been all that hard since he knew the… wilder borrowers tended to stay near either the front gate or the market when they were trading items they had managed to scavenge. After asking around the market to see if anyone knew where she was, made tougher by the fact that he had no clue what her name was and only had a vague description of what she looked like, he had eventually been told that she was last spotted at the front gate.

Which led to the current predicament with Tubbo facing one of the borrowers responsible for his friend’s exile. His hands were planted on his hips as he glared the woman down, refusing to let her pass until she answered his question.

The woman placed her head in her hands and sighed loudly. “Listen, I can’t. I can’t tell you. I can’t take you to him. I can’t do any of those things since I’d get in so much trouble-”

“I. Don’t. Care.” Tubbo spat, the pure venom and anger in his voice causing the other borrower to recoil. “And I’ll do whatever I have to so I can see Tommy again! So, uh…”

The anger on his face faded, turning to sheepish embarrassment. “What’s your name?”

“Sara.”

“Alright, Sara,” The venom was back, albeit not as strong as it was before. “I won’t rest until I’m with Tommy again, so you had better tell me where he is! Or else!”

Even with his unusually angry demeanor, Tubbo doubted his threats would be taken all that seriously thanks to both his unfortunately short height and typically meek demeanor. He had never been all that good at standing up for himself and fighting back, Tommy had always been more confident and headstrong, willing to stick up for him no matter what.

He missed Tommy, so much.

It was like there was a piece of his heart missing. His very soul seemed to ache with each passing day and, even though some of the adults in Borrowton were a bit nicer to him, their warmth failed to chase away the cold feeling that had engulfed him. He needed Tommy, needed to see his best friend again and make sure he was okay, and he would do whatever was needed to accomplish this goal.

No matter how weak or scared he was.

“Alright, alright.” Sara sighed as she held her hands out. “How about this. I can’t take you directly to him, but I’ll drop you off nearby and point you in the direction you need to go. That sound good?”

Tubbo immediately nodded his head, his previously aggressive stance relaxing as relief flowed through him. “That would work! Can we leave now? Soon? By the end of today? When do you think-”

“Holy crap, one thing at a time.” The older borrower interrupted, looking more than a little annoyed at the sudden bombardment of questions. “Luckily for you I was gonna leave soon anyways. Just let me get all my supplies packed up and then we can go. You’ll probably want to get some stuff for yourself as well.”

Perhaps it was a bit naive of him to not question her further, drill her on why she had changed her mind so fast, but he was too caught up in his excitement to think about anything other than his reunion with Tommy. He quickly nodded once more, already thinking about what he would need to get from his… house.

Not a home, it was never a home.

“Then get outta here! I’ll meet you at the front gate.” Sara insisted as she shooed Tubbo away. “Scram before we both get in trouble!”

“Y-Yeah, and thank you!” The younger borrower called out as he quickly ran off, stumbling in his haste to reach his destination. He did his best to stick to some of the darker, more hidden paths so he could avoid encountering anyone else lest they see the hopeful look on his face.

Borrowton itself was not at that large, but it was tall. The settlement had originally been built underground before reaching upwards and connecting with a tree that grew above it. Roots had been carved to form staircases and ladders stretched down from the higher levels. There were also wood and rope pathways that connected each of the towering structures, allowing people to use them to easily cross over to other towers, or simply sit on them and rest while taking in the scenery.

He and Tommy had frequently sat up on these pathways, staring down at the ground that was so very, very far below them, or use it as a chance to annoy some of the borrowers who walked underneath them.

Fishing rods were perfect for stealing hats, and other interesting looking items.

Shorter, more typical houses also littered the ground. They were some of the oldest structures in the settlement, made long before some of the borrowers who founded this place decided to get a bit more creative and inventive with their building. And it was in one of these old, dilapidated houses that Tommy and Tubbo lived.

Well, it wasn’t really their house. It was more so a place that they had permission to live in, since no one else wanted to take them in or offer up their own place to stay. A blatant rejection by their community, but Tubbo had learned to stop caring about that a long time ago.

The second he reached his destination, he flung the door open, raced inside, and quickly closed it behind him.

“Okay, okay. Get the important stuff and don’t worry about the rest.” Tubbo mumbled as he quickly scanned the dark interior of his house. He didn’t bother to light any of the lamps and instead opted to grab a backpack and start filling it with supplies. Tools, food, some bottles of water, and building supplies were all quickly shoved into the bag, haste taking priority over organization.

Of course, with his speed and intense focus, the borrower was bound to slip up and make a mistake somewhere. This manifested in him accidentally smacking into one of the walls near the staircase that led up to the loft, knocking it loose and causing it to slide to the side-

Revealing their hidden stash of items.

Tubbo froze as he caught sight of the worn-down jukebox that had been shoved into the corner of the cramped space. The wood was chipped, he could recall the splinters he had to help get out of Tommy’s hands on multiple occasions, and the varnish had long since faded entirely.

And yet, even with all that damage it still sounded amazing.

He smiled gently as he reached out and carefully patted the top of the jukebox. This item had brought them both so many happy memories, moments of joy without having to worry about anything else. It was undoubtedly the most important item the duo had, a title shared only by the two discs that the borrowers had kept hidden from the community that had shunned them.

Such rare items that could only be found and never replicated were priceless and would have immediately been used to handle all sorts of vital trades with other settlements, but the duo did not care. The discs were theirs, and that was that. He knew for a fact that Tommy would never give them up, and he wouldn’t either.

Tubbo reached around the jukebox and carefully removed the thin, wooden container that had been hidden by its bulky frame. He quickly opened it to check and see if the items it contained were still okay. The two discs, Cat and Mellohi written on both of them to help identify which was which, immediately greeted his worried gaze. They were both perfectly fine, no scratches or blemishes to be seen, and the borrower let out a relieved sigh.

Even if he couldn’t bring the jukebox with him, at least he could give Tommy the discs once they were reunited.

The case was carefully added to the backpack, some items placed on top of it to hide it from sight, and Tubbo took one last look of the closest thing to a home he had ever known. From the low hanging ceiling and the loft that housed both of their beds, to the tiny kitchen Tommy had set on fire more than once, the house was just as worn down and broken as they were, but they had lived their best life regardless.

Discarded like the trash everyone thought they were, left in a rotting home and ignored, but he and Tommy had come out all the stronger in spite of it.

A quiet, near inaudible voice whispered that he should set the house ablaze, turn his past to ashes and rise out of the destruction that had caused, confident and victorious. To leave a remainder that they had failed to break him, break his spirit, but he quickly ignored it and instead shouldered his backpack.

No, it would be better to disappear without a trace and show them how insignificant they all were to him. He wouldn’t give them the satisfaction in letting them know how badly they had all hurt him. How close they had gotten to their goal.

So, Tubbo turned and left his old house behind. The door was carefully shut and he patted it, knowing it would be the last time he saw this place. It was bittersweet, leaving like this, but he knew this was the right path forward.

He had to see Tommy again.

He would see Tommy again.

With that thought, that promise, in mind he quickly ducked back into the darker alleyways and slowly but surely made his way to the front gate. Occasionally he would have to stop and wait as other borrowers, and the occasional guard, passed him by, but he ultimately managed to reach his destination with little difficulty.

He immediately spotted Sara after making his way up the hill that connected the gate to the rest of Borrowton, having internally panicked the entire time about being seen. It looked like the guards were busy with something else, probably patrolling parts of the dark forest for any items dropped by mobs, which meant this was the perfect time for his departure from Borrowton.

Using up the last of his energy, he sprinted the rest of the way to the older borrower, dropping to his knees beside her as he took a moment to catch his breath. It was a moment that was quickly interrupted as Sara snagged the back of his shirt and dragged him towards the collection of shrubbery that surrounded the front gate, hiding it from sight.

And in turn hiding both Tubbo and the other borrower from the guards.

He let out a yelp as he was finally let go, dropping flat onto his back while Sara crossed her arms and tapped her foot in annoyance. He glanced up at her and opened his mouth to speak, but before he could start talking she turned around and disappeared into the foliage.

Taking that as his sign to follow her, he quickly pushed himself upright and raced through the last bits of greenery that helped hide Borrowton. Shoving through large leaves, and nearly getting smacked in the face by a twig, he burst into the warm sunlight that peeked between the trees.

It was weird seeing the sun, but it was even weirder seeing the large fox that must have been patiently waiting for them, bags full of supplies scattered around it. The life he lived was not a sheltered one, per say, but he rarely got the chance to leave Borrowton and really experience the world around him. He had always been good working with his hands, and the adults all told him that he would grow up to create things, to build and help their home. Whenever he asked about Tommy, about what his role would be, he had only ever seen disappointed frowns and the shaking of heads.

Like they had given up on him before trying, deciding he wasn’t worth whatever effort they were willing to give out.

“This is my fox.” Sara explained as she patted the animal’s flank, unintentionally snapping Tubbo out of his memory filled haze. “He’s gonna be our ticket to getting you to your friend, so you better be nice.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be extra nice!” He assured her as he got up and made his way over to the fox. Once he was close enough, he scratched behind the fox’s ears, grinning at the happy noises the animal made. A contemplative look crossed his face, and he decided to voice his question. “Does he have a name?” “No? He’s just a fox.” Sara stiffly replied as she started tying the bags to the fox’s sides, attaching them to the near invisible harness the animal was wearing. “And everyone knows he’s mine, so he doesn’t need a name.”

“Oh…” Tubbo mumbled, appearing downcast before perking up. “Can I give him a nickname, then? Something I can call him?”

Though she seemed incredibly confused by his question, she hesitantly nodded. “Yeah? I can’t really do anything to stop you.”

“I’ll call him Squeeks then!” Tubbo beamed. “Because he sounds all squeaky, but spelled differently! Uniquely!”

As if agreeing with Tubbo’s decision, the newly named Squeeks let out an excited squeal and bumped the young borrower. He laughed and continued to love on the energetic creature as Sara finished up their preparations.

Time seemed to both drag on and race by, and before Tubbo knew it the other borrower had finished packing up and was already climbing onto the fox, with him following behind a moment later. The fur beneath his hands was nice and fluffy, as soft as Squeeks was, and served to be the perfect distraction that stopped him from noticing the little whistle Sara let out.

“Time to go!”

That was the only warning he got as the fox started dashing between the trees and emerging into a large, open field. He winced and lifted a hand up to block the harsh rays coming from the sun. It was so… so bright out here! And all the blue-

“Is that an ocean?” Tubbo gasped, jaw dropping in surprise upon seeing the massive body of water that was apparently situated not that far from his old home. “We live near an ocean?!”

“Lived, in your case, and yeah.” Sara answered, quickly glancing back at the younger borrower before returning her eyes to the horizon. “Water and borrowers don’t really mix, so it’s more of a restricted area.”

“Well that’s a dumb rule.” He huffed. “How else are we supposed to get used to water if we aren’t around it? It just doesn’t make sense!”

“Rules don’t tend to make sense, and enjoy the scenery while you can since we gotta go pretty far inland.” The older borrower said before falling silent and focusing on making sure the fox was headed in the right direction. There were several times where Tubbo opened his mouth to speak, wanting to ask a question, but ultimately remained silent and instead opted to watch their slowly changing surroundings.

It gave him plenty of time to think, too. Think about where he was going and what he was going to do, and ask himself some questions that he knew would go unanswered.

Questions about humans.

What did a settlement of humans even look like? He had only heard about the occasional town, knew there was one close to Borrowton, but he had never been allowed to visit it. Too small and dangerous for borrowing, apparently. Would this place be like that one? Small and difficult to find a good hiding spot? What about the humans?

Would they be as cruel and cunning as he had been told, or would he find a human who was nice and wouldn’t kill him if he was spotted? He had so many questions, and the time for their answers would have to come much later…

“Here we are.”

The sound of Sara’s voice snapped Tubbo out of his thoughts and he straightened up, eyes landing on the collection of structures ahead. Some were made out of wood, others out of what appeared to be different kinds of stone, and there were sprawling wooden paths that stretched out in all sorts of directions.

It was… intimidating to say the least.

He had no idea how long it would take him to try and find Tommy. There were so many spaces a borrower could hide in. From the buildings themselves to the various trees and shrubs that could easily be used as a hiding spot, practically everywhere had the potential to house a borrower to some extent. And this was only a portion of what he would need to explore.

Tommy could be anywhere if he found him at all.

Tubbo nervously swallowed as he slid off of Squeeks, the fox immediately started nuzzling his back and nearly knocked the poor borrower over. He let out an awkward laugh, mood lightening just the slightest bit, and turned his attention to the affectionate animal.

“It was nice meeting you, Squeeks.” Tubbo said as he scratched at the fox’s ears and got that signature, laugh-like noise in response. He didn’t see how Sara’s eyes narrowed in annoyance, and it was only when she loudly cleared her throat that he looked up at her.

“And thank you for your help, Sara!” He hastily added. “I’m grateful, truly! I don’t know how I can repay you-”

“Don’t worry about that since this is the last time we’ll see one another.” She interrupted, her face rather blank and betraying none of her emotions. “So, forget about any of that and just live, alright kid?”

“Mhm!” Tubbo quickly nodded. While he wasn’t all that fond of leaving on such a note, debts were a powerful thing after all, he knew there was nothing he could say to change her mind. All he could hope was that working with her didn’t come back to bite him.

Maybe… maybe he and Tommy could stay here. There was always the chance that they could turn this place into their new home, a place they could live in without having to worry about being bothered by other borrowers. Of course, there was still the challenge of finding food, a good source of water, and actually building their home, but that was something they could work on over time.

Yes, that was it! He would build a temporary base, find Tommy, and then work on creating their own home!

With a plan in mind and hope filling his heart, Tubbo waved once more to Sara and set off on his mission. Dashing between the undergrowth and other forms of cover to keep himself from being seen by any humans, or dangerous animals, that might be nearby

Sara sighed softly to herself as she watched the younger borrower vanish from sight. It was so strange knowing that this was the second time she had done this, abandoning a child to some horribly doomed fate, but at least Tubbo had a better chance of surviving then Tommy did.

She let out a quiet snort and shook her head. It was highly unlikely he was still alive thanks to his temperament and what she knew of the Blood God. It wasn’t that she thought he was a bad person, but his habits and choices were… dangerous. It would have been all too easy for him to expose Borrowton to outsiders and humans. He never seriously considered what the consequences his actions would have when something went wrong, how selfish and immature he was.

He was nothing more than a threat to all the borrowers he interacted with, a threat to their way of life.

Good riddance.

xxxxxxxxxx

Warm sunlight shone down on the lonely cabin sitting in the middle of the empty tundra. The light brought with it an unusual warmth, making it the perfect day to spend some time outside gathering resources or fixing up the cabin.

Which was exactly what Technoblade had decided to do.

After repairing the damage that he had dealt to the porch, ignoring the borrower who had followed him outside and immediately started teasing him, the hybrid had decided to spend the rest of the day working on Carl’s stable. The least he could do was improve it so that way the horse would be comfortable in the harsh chill of the tundra.

Surprisingly enough, Tommy had trailed after him as he went from place to place using his own secret passages to keep up with the hybrid. It was fascinating being able to see the hidden doors that had previously gone unnoticed by him, and he was relieved to know that the property value of his home wouldn’t be going down.

Nothing was worse than having a bunch of holes in your house that made it look like it was infested by mice.

Still, the amount of ingenuity required to make something so simple yet complex, even if he had been taught how to do it before, was immense. Hell, if it wasn’t for naturally loud Tommy was, Techno doubted he would have ever found out about the borrower and all the passageways he had made. So, he ended paying more attention than he expected to Tommy when the borrower started making a pathway that connected to the top of Carl’s stable.

A bit unsurprising since he seemed to be very fond of the horse. He wasted no time in pointing out how much Carl seemed to like him, although Techno personally thought the horse was fairly apathetic towards Tommy’s attempts at friendship and only used it as a chance to get carrots from the borrower.

Carl was definitely the smartest being on the server, hands down.

Plus, he was immensely amused as he watched Tommy struggle to hold each carrot up, the vegetable practically the same size as the borrower. It was only through sheer stubbornness and willpower he was able to lift the thing in the first place.

And the occasional nudge from Techno that helped him keep his balance when he tipped back too far. Fences weren’t the safest of places to stand on, of course.

All in all, the day was turning out to be surprisingly productive and peaceful, even if he had to deal with listening to Tommy ramble on and on about whatever topic entered his mind. Techno was surprised to find himself actually listening more than he thought he would, occasionally chiming in with his own point or teasing the borrower. It was a welcome change after the excitement of freeing Carl.

A change that he knew wouldn’t last. Peace was an unfamiliar concept to his family, chaos was naturally drawn to them. Funnily enough, it was a trait that Tommy seemed to share. Speaking of the borrower…

“You’re just jealous that Carl thinks I’m better than you!” Tommy teased, smugly smirking at the hybrid, who just rolled his eyes and shook his head. “He knows how great I am!”

“I just think it’s pretty funny that you don’t realize your greatness,” Both the term and the heavy sarcastic tone had Tommy’s smile turning into a disgruntled frown, but Techno wasn’t done yet. “Is resulting in you getting exploited by a horse.”

“He’s not exploiting me!” The borrower objected. “We’re buddies! Best buddies! For someone who’s so smart with all his fancy words, you don’t seem to get it!”

“Oh, trust me, I get it completely.” Techno drawled, sparing a quick glance over at Carl. For as challenging as it was to pinpoint the horse’s emotions, he didn’t miss the cunning gleam in Carl’s eyes.

Suddenly, a screen popped up beside the hybrid. Tommy jumped back in alarm, nearly falling off the fence he was perched on. Fortunately, Carl quickly helped him resettle himself with a quick nudge and an exasperated sounding snort, as Techno turned his attention to the messages he had just received. Messages from Philza.

Shit.

He cursed under his breath as he began tapping away at the screen, ignoring the curious looks thrown his way by both the borrower and the horse. “Fuck, I forgot about Phil.”

“The fuck is Phil?” Tommy immediately asked, running along the stable’s fence as he tried to keep up with Techno’s strides. “And what’s with that screen thingy? You sending messages to any girls? Looking for any local hot women in the area?”

Naturally, his questions went unanswered as Techno continued mumbling to himself, something about bees and farms, leaving the borrower more than a little annoyed. Not wanting to be left behind, both literally and in terms of the conversation Techno was having with himself, he quickly came up with a plan to keep up. A plan that relied on a rapidly closing window of opportunity.

So, Tommy made his move.

He did not bother trying to get the hybrid’s attention and instead sprinted towards the end of the fence. The moment he reached the edge, he bent his knees and jumped.

For a moment, pure fear filled him as he lunged through the air, refusing to look downwards and instead remaining focused on grabbing onto the swaying braid in front of him. He could feel his heart pounding as he got closer, and closer, until-

His hands made contact with pink hair and he immediately held on as tight as he could. He crossed his ankles, locking his feet together, as he took a moment to catch his breath. He felt all sweaty and jittery, the lingering hints of adrenaline running through his veins. Once he finally felt calm enough to move, and his hands stopped shaking, he slowly started climbing up the long braid.

At this point, Techno had made his way into the cabin and was rummaging through the chests. He was completely unaware of the borrower climbing up his hair until he felt a particularly harsh tug at the back of his head followed by the sounds of Tommy cursing.

“What the fuck, man?! You nearly left me behind!” The borrower exclaimed as he heaved himself over the edge of Techno’s crown, flopping into the pink hair. He could still feel his heart racing from both the dangerous climb and the terrifying jump, but he also felt badass.

He knew of no other borrowers that could brag about such an achievement and, despite how out of breath he was, he found himself smiling as he lay sprawled out on top of the hybrid’s head.

“Sorry.” Techno said, sounding not at all apologetic as that screen appeared once more. “Figured you could use the exercise with those twiggy legs of yours-”

“And here he goes again! Big, scary Blade acting all mean and stuff! Gotta keep up that tough guy act!” Tommy grumbled while waving his hands in the air dramatically.

He heard Techno let out an amused snort at his antics, making a grin appear on the borrower’s face. There was something satisfying about seeing a positive reaction to his antics for once instead of being scolded or told off. For as dangerous as the hybrid could be, Tommy had developed some trust towards him.

But that didn’t mean he wasn’t going to make Techno suffer for almost leaving him out in the cold. Revenge was in the cards, and he refused to miss this chance.

“... You know it’s okay to look up hot old men in your area too right-”

Tommy’s grin grew as he heard the strangled wheeze escape the hybrid, and he threw his head back and cackled. Flopping back into the soft, pink hair he rolled around as he laughed and nearly smacked into the crown surrounding him.

“You’re horrible, and your jokes are cringe.” Techno grumbled. “Phil is my-”

What words could properly describe the connection forged between them? A pact sealed in bloodshed, violence, and a level of comprehension that far exceeded anything he had ever known in his life.

The look of understanding in Philza’s eyes. A grounding voice, a source of stability in a crimson sea of death and loneliness.

A mentor, a savior, a-

“... Dad.” He finally settled on, figuring it would be the easiest way for Tommy to understand what he meant. “He’ll be here, soon.”

“What?!” The borrower squawked, his previous amusement fading and quickly being replaced with dread. He stood up, gripped the edge of the crown, and looked down into Techno’s face. “Y-You have to tell me these things! We’re roommates! And you have a dad?!”

“To be fair, he was supposed to visit a couple days ago, but then Carl happened.”

“That doesn’t explain anything!”

A brow was raised at the shout, Techno easily picking up on the anxiety that made the kid’s voice crack and left him trembling. It was bizarre seeing Tommy so openly terrified, and at the thought of meeting Philza no less.

Philza Minecraft, who had the unfortunate habit of picking up any homeless kid he found on the street and giving them the shelter and support they so desperately craved.

Even if he occasionally left for long periods of time...

His ears twitched, the distant sounds of Wilbur’s shouts and Phil’s pleas for him to calm down ringing in his head. He glanced upwards, eyes meeting the wide, terrified stare of the borrower, and felt the neutral look on his face soften. He didn’t like the idea of the kid being scared, in general and of Phil, and it just felt… wrong.

It felt wrong for Tommy to be afraid of anything. For his arrogance and loud nature to become so quiet and muffled. To see that spark in his eyes dull.

“There’s nothing you need to be worried about-”

“Easy for you to say!” Tommy interrupted with a scoff. “You’re you! You’re all tough and mehmehmeh look at all these swords and potions I’ve got! You don’t have to be worried! You don’t have to be scared! You…”

His words trailed off with a sigh and he braced himself against the edge of the crown, eyes shutting. “You don’t know what it’s like to have to be scared of everything.”

No, Techno didn’t know anything about what it must be like to live at such a diminutive size, although he was familiar with the fear and struggle of trying to survive.

Scorching hot air, bubbling lava. Frantic running and a gold sword clutched tightly in his hands-

Perhaps that familiarity was why he found himself speaking up, repeating the words that had been spoken to him years ago.

“I won’t let anything hurt you.”

The declaration that had slipped out of Techno left the duo frozen and silent, each contemplating the meaning behind his words. While the hybrid was mentally berating himself on making such a claim, not that he couldn’t easily fulfill it, the borrower’s eyes snapped open and he looked down, meeting Techno’s gaze once more. He swallowed, mouth suddenly dry, and spoke up.

“... Really?”

He hated it, hated how childish and weak he sounded, but at the same time he craved reassurance and wanted to know that he would be okay, that everything would turn out okay.

He just wanted to know that he’d be safe.

Techno nodded, unintentionally jostling the borrower around a bit as he struggled to figure out how exactly to word what he wanted to say. Eventually, he settled on a simple. “Yeah, really.”

A moment of silence passed, then two, and then-

“Okay,” Tommy relented, letting out a quiet sigh and nodding. “I trust you, Blade.”

“Wait over here for now. You’ll warm up to Phil pretty quick.” Techno suggested with a knowing tone in his voice as he plucked the borrower off the top of his head and carried him over to the table. Even as Tommy scampered across the surface to duck behind a book he had left out, fear and uncertainty clear in the kid’s eyes, he knew those feelings would vanish soon enough.

Phil had a way with people that he could never hope to comprehend, a skill that had come in handy when they had first met all those years ago in the scorching heat of the Nether. A skill that had equally come in handy when a grungy child carrying a broken guitar had been found rummaging through the trash.

Instinctively knowing how to soothe them and their worries, to calm their fears.

So, despite the anxious looks that were sent his way, he walked over to the front window and waited.

Tommy honestly had no idea what he expected Phil to look like. Techno had given him no information whatsoever, the prick, and the only thing he knew was that Phil was his dad, which meant they probably looked similar?

At least he now knew that he had gotten one of his first jokes about Techno right.

Simply put, it was only when he caught sight of the short, blond man entering the cabin that he realized Techno was adopted, or was most likely adopted. They didn’t seem to have anything in common based on their appearances, other than the fact that both of them looked to be fond of capes since Phil was wearing a long, black cape that stretched towards the floor.

Funnily enough, it was pretty stiff for a cape. There was none of the cool flowing he had grown used to seeing, but maybe that was because of the cold.

Anything would freeze out in the open tundra, including capes.

However, his assumption that Phil and Techno were both just cape obsessed fashionistas was quickly proven false when the newcomer’s cape moved. He heard something that sounded like the rustling of leaves on a windy day and watched in awe as the cape seemed to expand and open up, breaking into two separate parts-

Wings.

“You’ve got wings!” The borrower exclaimed, ducking out from behind his hiding spot and pointing at Phil. Both hybrids, assuming Phil was a hybrid of some sort, immediately turned to face him. He was more than used to Techno staring at him, all analytical and like he wanted to figure out everything about the borrower, but Phil was-

Different.

Where Techno’s eyes were cold and hard, Phil’s carried a warmth and softness within them. Even the smile on his face was gentle and, for some reason, helped soothe the lingering anxiety Tommy felt. It was a look he had seen addressed to many children back at Borrowton, but never to him. From that expression alone, he immediately knew one thing.

Phil wouldn’t hurt him.

“Hello there.” The winged hybrid greeted, taking a step closer to the table but still keeping his distance. “Didn’t know someone got a roommate-”

“Infestation.” Techno quickly corrected with a snort. “I didn’t put out an add or anything. Roommates suck.”

“Aw, it’s okay to feel lonely, Tech-”

Tommy watched as the duo started bantering back and forth, Phil continuing to tease Techno while the other hybrid responded in kind with his own barbs and jests. It was weird seeing him be so openly social, and for once in his life he found himself speechless.

That is, until Phil’s eyes landed on him yet again.

He didn’t stiffen up, nor did he try to hide from the winged man’s gaze. He instead held it and waited to see what would happen next, immediately being surprised when Phil sent him that same gentle smile from earlier.

“It’s nice to meet you, mate. I’m Philza, but you can call me Phil.”

“Tommy.” He mumbled, voice barely loud enough to be heard.

He felt so out of his depth in this new situation, everything was moving so fast and he had already possibly befriended someone else? The kind look in the winged hybrid’s eyes certainly made it seem like he cared, which would imply that friendship was not far off, right?

“So, is he joining us?” Phil asked, turning to Techno and in turn missing the confused look that crossed the borrower’s face.

“Joining? What’s going on?” Tommy piped up, his curiosity helping him find his voice. “You two going out somewhere?”

“Phil and I need to make some farms.” Techno explained. “A bee farm and a turtle farm, but we need to gather the resources first. I wasn’t planning on you tagging along, but you can if you don’t bother Phil.”

Asking Tommy to behave was out of the question, he understood how excited the kid could get and in turn how forgetful and unobservant he could become. The bare minimum he could hope for was for Tommy to reign in his excitement just enough to stop him from bugging Phil and distracting him.

Like he expected, Tommy’s eyes lit up in excitement and he eagerly nodded. “Fuck yeah! We headin’ out now? I can go grab my stuff-”

“The sooner you get ready, the better.” Techno interrupted as he shooed him away. “So, scram and get ready.”

As Tommy rushed into the nearby borrower hole that he had thankfully made the day prior, his excited rambling cutting off not long after he disappeared from sight, Techno pointedly ignored the smug look Phil sent his way.

“So, adoption-”

“Eugh, cringe.” Techno immediately interrupted, not wanting the conversation to progress any further. “Taking in an orphan? Providing emotional support? Couldn’t be me.”

“Nice to know what you think of me.” Phil quipped. He let out a laugh when he saw the concerned, almost horrified, look that crossed his adopted son’s face. “Relax! Relax, it’s just a joke, mate.”

His amusement faded and his smile took on a more concerned edge as he looked Techno over, eyes landing on the familiar blood red cape. “You’re more high strung than usual. Did something happen?”

“You mean aside from the nuisance that invaded my home?” Techno dryly retorted. “And I’m…”

Lie, lie, lie-

“... As good as I can be.” He answered, voice growing quieter. A quick inspection of his father had him noticing the dark shadows under Phil’s eyes and how dull his feathers were compared to their typical luster. “You?”

“Eh, I’m holding up.” Phil shrugged. “L’Manberg’s been busy, keeps me busy too.”

The look of disgust and annoyance that crossed Techno’s face got a laugh out of the other man. “You still got something in mind for them, mate?”

“A plan, and some trips to the Nether.”

“Nice, tell me if you need anymore help-”

One of Techno’s ears twitched and he glanced over at the borrower hole, a clear sign that their conversation was finished for now. Together, they both watched as the cover to the hole was moved and Tommy stumbled out of it, a bag now slung over his shoulders.

He looked… relatively unprepared compared to the two armor wearing and weapon carrying hybrids.

“Is that everything you need?” Phil asked, frowning slightly as he took in the simple bag Tommy was carrying. “No tools?”

“... I have my axe? My grappling hook?” The borrower hedged as he picked up a rather shoddy looking stone axe that had been attached to his belt. “Dunno what else I’d really need, old man.”

Already seeing Phil starting to get all concerned parent thanks to the look on his face combined with the fluffing up of his feathers, Techno decided to jump in and spare Tommy from the mother henning that was about to happen.

… He also stubbornly ignored the faint ache of his heart, unintentionally recalling how Wilbur had given Phil that title and teased him relentlessly with it.

“Don’t worry, I’ve got him covered.” He interjected while striding towards the chest at the edge of the room. “Armor’s still a struggle, but I finished something else up.”

“Armor?” Tommy visibly perked up and stared intensely at Techno’s back. “What armor?”

“Your hypothetical armor.”

The borrower’s jaw dropped while Phil looked more than a little interested, stepping forward and glancing at the chest that was being rummaged in. Techno ignored the both of them until he found what he had been searching for.

Straightening up and facing the duo, he presented the item he had been working on. “I was planning on giving this to you later, but now works too.”

It was a needle. A simple needle forged out of some dark metal that looked wickedly sharp to the touch. It was the perfect weapon for someone Tommy’s size, and the borrower carefully accepted it as it was passed to him. He could see his reflection staring back at him in the carefully polished metal.

Why…

“If you stab yourself I’m taking it back.”

“Wh-I won’t!” Tommy shouted, quickly looking up and glaring at Techno. “I know how to use this! We’ve been practicing-”

“And we’ll keep practicing until you stop tripping over your own feet.”

“Fuck off!”

The winged hybrid let out a contemplative hum as he inspected the weapon. “Why not try enchanting it as well? Fire aspect could be helpful.”

“I’m not giving him something that’ll let him burn down my house, Phil.”

“I bet he would’ve done that by now if he really wanted to.” Phil chuckled while shaking his head. “And you know what I mean. A bit of pain won’t scare everyone off, but some fire could help with that.”

The unspoken a needle can’t pierce through all armor and fire might deal more damage.

Techno remained silent as he thought the suggestion over before eventually nodding. “Alright, I’ll look into enchanting it once we get back. We’re far enough behind on those farms and we need to get them finished as soon as possible.”

“How about you go and get those turtle eggs while I take Tommy to find some bees?” Phil suggested, smiling to himself when he saw how excited the borrower looked. “Gives you a break and splits up the work so we can get it done faster.”

“You sure you can keep up in your old age?” Techno teased. “Make sure you don’t hurt your back.”

The wing that lightly smacked his side along with the exaggerated eye rolling made him feel both warm and cold. The familiarity of the gesture bringing back fond memories, and reminding him that those moments would stay memories no matter what.

That there would always be someone missing from their family, even with the husk that had been left behind.

He could see that lingering grief in Phil’s eyes, too, recalling times that had long since passed. An unspoken agreement passed between the duo, a promise that neither would mention the tragedy that had struck their family while Tommy was around.

Their grief was not something they wanted to share, nor did either of them want to dampen the excitement he clearly felt. So, Phil kept smiling as he replied.

“It’s been a bit, but I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

xxxxxxxxxx

“THIS IS FUCKING AMAZING!!!” Tommy shouted, his voice quickly lost to the wind whipping around him. He heard Phil chuckle above him, and the borrower’s smile grew.

After practically begging the winged hybrid to take him flying, Phil had agreed with some conditions. The first was that Tommy was to be on his best behavior, no trying to jump out of the man’s hands or anything crazy like that. The second was that he couldn’t distract the flying hybrid, but conversations and the occasional excited exclamation was okay. As for the third…

He had to stay warm.

Part of Phil’s cloak had been wrapped around the borrower, blocking out the glacial gale. Gloved hands carefully cupped Tommy close, keeping him tucked against the winged hybrid’s chest. It was surprisingly cozy, and more than once he had zoned out and found himself unintentionally cuddling up to the man carrying him, listening to the steady beating of the powerful wings that made him soar through the air.

He wasn’t as warm as Techno was, but he doubted anyone could match the amount of heat he seemed to give off.

He was more than a little surprised at how quickly he had come to trust Phil, especially in comparison to Techno. While it had taken him some time to warm up to the pig-like hybrid, an experience that he was certain had been mutual, with Phil there had been an almost instantaneous feeling of trust he felt towards the winged hybrid.

It was honestly terrifying when he actually thought about it, how willing he had been to literally put his life in the hands of someone he had met only minutes ago, but at the same time it felt…

Right.

Like a puzzle piece sliding into place, the same feeling he had felt when Techno protected him oh so long ago. It wasn’t something he could explain with words or rationalize in any way. It just… was what it was.

A feeling that left him more hopeful than he had felt in years.

The sensation of descent that left his legs tingling and his stomach flip-flopping was enough to shake Tommy out of his thoughts, and he looked over the edge of Phil’s hands to see the snow covered ground slowly approaching them. A couple careful flaps of those massive wings slowly lowered them until Phil’s feet were resting on the ground.

“We have to do that again!” Tommy said, looking up and sending Phil a wide, excited smile. “It was awesome! And fast! Way faster than I thought an old man would be-”

“Alright, alright, settle down.” The winged hybrid chuckled. “We can’t do that with the bees-”

“Fuck the bees! Them and their queen!”

“But, we can always go flying again later.” Phil continued, fighting to keep down the laugh that bubbled up at Tommy’s words. “Probably not today though. Farms need to be made and all.”

To the borrower’s surprise, instead of being put down on the ground like he assumed, Phil lifted him up to his shoulder. He hesitated for a moment before carefully climbing over and situated himself among the folds of clothes and the side of Phil’s neck.

The man wore layers, and Tommy instinctively wrapped the outermost one around himself, unconsciously letting out a soft sigh as the heat sank back into him. He missed how the wing behind him was raised up higher, blocking out more of the brisk winds.

Phil knew he’d get a cramp at some point, but the last thing he wanted was for the tiny kid to freeze. His clothes weren’t made for the cold, something he’d have to look into later, and it was obvious Tommy had lived somewhere much warmer before ending up in Techno’s cabin.

Yet again, the man found himself wondering what events had led to Tommy winding up in the tundra. Had he gotten lost? Been separated from his family somehow? He didn’t know how much Techno knew about the kid’s situation, and resolved to ask about it once they got back.

Fortunately, it didn’t take all that long before they stumbled on some bees that had been buzzing around in the near empty tundra as they struggled to find flowers. The occasional hive could be spotted between the spruce trees as well, making this the perfect spot to abduct some bees.

The next several minutes were filled with the sounds of cheerful conversation as Phil slowly gathered up the bees and collected their hives. Tommy spent most of his time asking the hybrid about his wings and flying, while the borrower answered several questions about his own people. The answers were never too detailed, of course, just generalized explanations that wouldn’t risk exposing the location of Borrowton.

Despite the conversation bordering on some rather heavy topics, such as Tommy’s obvious lack of home and the fact that he had never heard about hybrids before, weird since he had met two before he had encountered any humans, they were able to steer it away from any risky questions.

In no way did Tommy wish to discuss the pain he had endured back in Borrowton, nor did Phil want to go into the injustices and discrimination that hybrids faced on a daily basis. Both topics were better suited for conversations much later down the line.

Unfortunately, even with his efforts to avoid talking and thinking about his old home, and the best friend he had left behind, the subject reared its ugly head eventually.

Caused by none other than a bee, of course.

It had been an especially curious bee out of the bunch they had gathered so far that spotted the borrower tucked away under a layer of green fabric. His hair had probably caught its attention, the bright blond extra visible thanks to the green surrounding him. Tommy laughed as the bee drifted closer, nearly bumping into him as it tried to inspect him. It was so large, and absolutely covered in fuzz. There had always been something about seeing bees that never failed to cheer Tubbo up-

Tubbo...

A sharp, agonized noise escaped him. Guilt surged through him as he slowly leaned away from the bee, scooting backwards and taking shelter behind Phil’s neck. He felt the man stiffen up before shooing the bee away.

“Tommy, you alright?” Phil asked, voice quiet so he didn’t accidentally upset the borrower further. “Did something happen? Did you get stung?”

“... No, it’s fine.” Tommy replied, pressing the fabric wrapped around him to his face. He could feel the chill that the tears slowly streaming down his cheeks brought on, but he refused to acknowledge them. “M’fine.”

Sensing the sudden melancholy that had taken over the borrower, the winged hybrid decided it was time to leave the snowy tundra. Carefully holding the leads in his hand, he trudged through the snow as the bees buzzed around them. “Let’s get back to Techno and see how many turtles he’s got left.”

“Got left?” Tommy repeated, mood slightly lifting at the change in topic. “You mean hatched?”

“Not exactly, mate. You’ll see what I mean when we get back.” Phil said while gently smiling at him. It was a smile that was shakily returned with one of Tommy’s own before fading a moment later.

The trip back was far more silent than the flight had been with the borrower making no jokes, nor commenting on their surroundings, and Phil not pressing and asking what was wrong. At least he didn’t have to worry about being interrogated and being forced to explain his feelings.

Explain Tubbo…

Returning to the cabin and finding Technoblade patrolling the perimeter of the turtle farm was enough to make that smile return to Tommy’s face and, when the hybrid started freaking out after the tiny turtle disappeared in a pile of snow, the laughter he let out was almost enough to make him forget about the ache in his chest.

Almost enough to distract him from the feelings of guilt that would haunt him for the rest of the day.

Tubbo.

I’ll come get you soon.

I promise.

xxxxxxxxxx

“This should be the place.” Tubbo quietly mumbled to himself, carefully hidden from sight. So far, he had barely been able to explore much of the expansive… town? City?

Whatever this place was, with all its structures made out of strange materials, it was massive, incomprehensibly large, and it made him worry all the more about how hard it would be to find Tommy in this mess of a place. To make matters worse, multiple times he had been forced to hide as people made their way across the paths.

All heavily armored and carrying shields, swords, bows, or axes.

This place was dangerous, very dangerous, and the sooner he found Tommy and got out of here, the better. The risk of being found was way too high, and what would happen to them after they were found-

No, he wouldn’t think of such things. Wouldn’t dare to think about the fact that Tommy could be dead, dying all alone-

Despite his efforts, such thoughts consumed his waking mind and permeated his subconscious. Ever since Tommy had first been forced out of Borrowton, Tubbo had not slept. Sure, he napped occasionally, but every time he shut his eyes he could not stop himself from imagining what could happen to Tommy when he was out there, all alone. It ate at him, even when he was awake, and left him far less mindful of his surroundings than he normally was.

As such, he was completely unaware of the figure looming over him until it was too late. Distantly, he noticed something blocking out the sun, a shadow falling over him, and it took him a moment to realize that the shadow was not shaped like a cloud-

He whirled around, terror filling him as he saw a pair of grey hands reaching for him, sunlight somehow streaming through them and making them seem… ghostly, as if they were not really there. He quickly stepped backwards, tripping over his own feet, and dropped to the ground. He cringed as pain raced up his wrists from his hands making impact with the ground, but he ignored it and scuttled backwards.

Unfortunately, he was far too slow to escape or find any sort of shelter to escape the towering being that had cornered him. Just as those hands closed in around him, he heard a cheerful voice ring out above him.

“Hello, friend!”

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Did Phil end up spending an unfortunately short amount of time with Tommy? Yes, but that's fine. He'll be spending plenty of time with another borrower in need of emotional support!

#my story #fanfiction #dream smp #dream smp fic #sleepy bois inc #sleepy bois inc fic #borrower au #dsmp tommy #dsmp tubbo #dsmp techno #dsmp philza #dsmp ghostbur #borrower!tommy #borrower!tubbo

50 notes · View notes