#that way I'll be able to work on them a bit slower

[deal-right]

Blissfully thinking of doing comms again, i need july to be here already (and to have passed my dissertation by then sbdnfngnhm)

[violentdelightsandviolentends]

Lessons in Love.

Bucky didn't believe in love at first sight. Then he met you.

Pairing - Bucky Barnes x female reader

Warnings - None

Word Count - 3615

Author's Note - hello gorgeous people, hope you're all doing well. writing this has made my heart so full, and I hope it makes you feel the same. requests are always open and more than encouraged!! currently working on a stunning jake seresin request that's just so lovely. i'm SO open to more jake requests, but also any marvel, top gun maverick, criminal minds, narcos and any others you have in mind!! just send them over, and I'll see what I can do. as always, so much love x

Masterlist. Requests.

“No way. How is that even possible?”

You look at the bewildered man in front of you and can’t help but smile.

“It’ll play anything you want it to. Anything in the world. Just ask it!” you encourage, beaming grin still plastered on your face.

“Alexa,” he says tentatively, “play Marvin Gaye.”

The first notes of Trouble Man begin to sound through your apartment, and his eyes light up. He’s looking at you like you’ve discovered something completely revolutionary.

You laugh – a real, genuine, delighted sound that flows through Bucky like a beam of light, illuminates his bones, makes his heart beat that little bit faster.

Grabbing your notebook, you delicately place a check next to Number 26 – voice-controlled devices. Number 27 is air fryers. Number 28 is Bluetooth. Number 29 is kindles and e-readers. Number 30 is Doordash. You’ve already checked off Spotify, and ATMs, and Google, and online banking, amongst many others. A list of things to better integrate Bucky into the 21st Century. A list of things to make him feel less like a man out of time. A list of things that allow you to spend all the time with him that you can.

A warm hand on your left hip and a cold one on your right pull you back into reality.

“Dance with me.” he murmurs. “Let me teach you something, for once.”

Before you can process his words, he’s gliding across the kitchen with you in his arms. Trouble Man isn’t playing anymore, instead replaced with something slower, richer. Bucky hasn’t taken his eyes off you, not even for a second. He’s watching your every move, every expression, every twitch of your lips. Reading you like a book.

You bring your hands to rest around his neck, and he relaxes into you. He’s leading, swaying you gently, occasionally twirling you like a ballerina in a music box. Perfectly effortless. He’s good at this.

The sun is setting, casting a warm orange hue across the kitchen. The light is reflecting onto your hair, making you glow, giving you a halo. Angelic, he thinks. My guardian angel.

You close the space between your bodies, wrapping your arms around his middle. Resting your head on his chest, he prays you can’t hear how his heart is working overtime. You shut your eyes, and breathe him in. He smells faintly like the Bakery, like sugar and coffee and cinnamon. The place that started it all.

　            ⋆ 　　 .  ✵　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 

When Bucky first moved into his apartment, he’d noticed the Bakery down the street immediately. The smell of cake and coffee drifted out of the lilac colored door, enticing him in. He resisted the urge, and told himself that he’d go inside tomorrow.

The next day, he stood outside of the red brick building, and read the menu on the noticeboard carefully. Then he reread it. And then read it again. Since when was coffee so complicated? And don’t even get him started on cake. He swore there was only a few types back in the forties. Now, there was at least fifty different kinds on this menu alone. He was overwhelmed. He thought he’d be able to walk into this Bakery, get some coffee, maybe something sweet, and leave content. Instead, he's stood on the sidewalk on the verge of a panic attack. Tomorrow, he thinks to himself. I’ll go in tomorrow.

Tomorrow never comes. Every day, he takes a walk, and purposely passes the building that he longs to go into. But somehow, he can never find the courage. He knows he’ll just look like an idiot if he walks in. He’ll look lost, and out of place, and everyone will laugh and mutter. Look, they’ll jeer, The Winter Soldier can’t even order a coffee.

And so, he spares himself the pain. Lets his feet carry him past, only slowing down slightly when he passes the lilac door. Every day for three months, he takes the same route. Willing himself to go in, to find the courage. It’s just coffee, he tells himself. Get a grip.

Until, one day, you decided to change his life, unknowingly. Or maybe knowingly. He’s still not sure.

He takes his usual path, and just as he gets to the lilac door – you’re there. Stood, waiting, soft smile on your face. Bucky panics, and wills his feet to move faster, to take him away from this inevitably awkward situation. You stop him before he can make a run for it.

“Hi.”

Oh. You’re talking to him. You’re staring into his soul with no judgment, or fear, or trepidation. You’re staring into his soul with gentleness. Kindness. Friendship. He’s terrified.

“Uh – hi.” He rubs the back of his neck. Nervous habit.

“So, uh, I hope this isn’t weird, or anything. But, I’ve been watching you walk past every day for like three months, and, well…” you trail off. Now you look nervous. “Actually, I haven’t really thought this far ahead. I just see you, and I wanted to… invite you in, I guess? Not that you need an invite, of course not, we’re open to everyone, but… you always look like you’re going to come in, and then you never do. And I’ve been telling myself for months that I should properly invite you in, but now I’m realising this is, uh, really weird. And I’m sorry.”

You still have that gentle smile on your face, but it’s more tentative now. A dusting of pink is making its way onto your cheeks, and Bucky thinks it might be his new favourite color.

It’s now that he really starts to take you in. Your hair is blowing slightly in the breeze, and the sleeves of your sweater are pulled down over your wrists, to try and keep the New York chill at bay. You have bright, inquisitive eyes – eyes that contain hope, love, laughter. You make him feel almost peaceful. No one makes him feel like that. Damn.

You’ve stepped closer to him now, to get out of the way of the customers making their way through the door. You smell like sugar, and coffee, and optimism. He wants to breathe you in, let you settle in his lungs. A comfortable warmth spreads through his chest.

He decides to take a gamble and bear his truth to you. He’s not sure why, but he trusts you. He doesn’t trust anyone, these days. But he trusts you.

“Can I be honest with you?”, he asks, looking at you expectantly. You’re almost expecting him to laugh in your face at the absurdity of it all. You nod anyway, signalling for him to continue.

“I’ve been trying to work up the courage to come in. But every time I try, I just, uh-” he stutters, and you can tell that his mind is screaming at him, sounding alarm bells, begging him to stop with all this sudden vulnerability.

“It’s overwhelming, right?” you ask, cutting him off. Saving him. Guardian angel.

You see the relief in his body at your question. His fists unclench, the tension leaves his shoulders. He smiles bashfully. Half grateful, half embarrassed. You get it.

“Yeah,” he chuckles. You giggle, and he’s convinced that the melodious sound will circle around in his mind forever, like the Earth orbiting the Sun.

You fiddle with the strings of your mint green apron, and look at him. You’re gazing at him so earnestly that he’s worried he might spontaneously combust.

“Are you busy tonight?” you ask suddenly, and he feels so dizzy he’s concerned momentarily that he’s going to pass out.

“Uh, no. I’m not,” he replies, managing to force the words out of his mouth.

“We close at 6, so meet me here at 7.”

You still have that sparkle in your eye. He couldn’t say no to you if he tried.

“Why?” he queries. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t absolutely petrified at the turn the conversation has taken.

“I want to show you around. Maybe make you a coffee, introduce you to some of my favourite things. You won’t believe how good my raspberry and white chocolate cookies are. They’re best sellers for a reason,” you beam at him.

Beaming. He wonders how he’s lived his whole life without your light illuminating his universe. Anywhere he goes without you is going to feel so dark, he thinks. How did I ever live like this?

He manages to pull himself together to smile back at you. His first genuine grin in God knows how long. He’s forgotten what joy feels like, and he’s almost drunk on it now.

He agrees to your plan, and you turn on your heel, about to make your way back inside.

“Wait!” he yells, louder than intended. “What’s your name?”

Your lips turn up into a smirk, mischief seeping out of your pores.

“Come back at 7 and find out.” You wink at him, and he has to take a few deep breaths in order to stay conscious. With that, you leave him alone on the sidewalk, where he’s silently thanking the universe for dropping you in his lap. Finally, he thinks. The cosmic punishment is over.

He does come back at 7. In fact, he’s stood outside waiting at 6:45. He can see you mopping the floor, singing as you go. His supersoldier hearing allows him to listen to your voice, even from this far away. He’s never been more grateful for the thing he used to call a curse. He’d be cursed every damn day if it meant he got to listen to you like this.

At 6:58, you appear at the lilac door, beckoning him to follow you inside. He knows that stepping over that threshold is going to change him fundamentally. He can’t wait.

Upon entering, he’s hit with the smell of cinnamon, sugar, coffee, and you. A beautiful mix of all three. Without a second thought, he reaches out with his right hand, and gently brushes some flour from your cheekbone.

“Bucky,” he murmurs.

You can’t tear your eyes away from him. Lips slightly parted, chest heaving, it takes you a minute to register that he spoke.

“What?” you ask, dazed by the handsome stranger with the steel blue eyes.

“My name,” he speaks softly. “It’s Bucky.”

You smile knowingly, and take a deep breath. It’s overwhelming, meeting someone that you know is going to be in your life forever. You’re both feeling the same, neither of you sure just quite what to do.

You grab his left hand, sighing quietly in relief at the feeling the cool metal against your heated skin. Leading him gently, he lets you guide him through the front of the store, until you stop behind the counter. He’s convinced he’d let you lead him anywhere, as long as he gets to feel your skin, soft and warm, on his. Grounding. Comforting. Easy.

“What kind of milk do you like?” you ask, fingers still intertwined with his.

“There’s more than one kind of milk?”

Bucky looks so disorientated, that you want to kiss the confused expression off his face. You chuckle softly, and the sound bounces off the metal in the room, twinkling around him.

“We have cows’ milk, oat milk, almond milk and soy milk.” You take one look at him, and decide to change course. “Let’s start with something less complex, actually. Any allergies I should know about?”

He shakes his head, mischievous grin beginning to form on his handsome face. There he is, you think. He’s with me.

“I’m going to make you a latte. It’s milky, and not too strong or too sweet. I think you’ll like it.”

She thinks I’ll like it, he muses. And he trusts you - whether it be with his life, or just a cup of coffee.

You reluctantly let go of his hand, and begin to flit around, gathering everything you need. Bucky leans back against the counter and watches carefully. He watches the way you bite your lip when you measure out the milk. He watches the way the steam from the coffee machine blows your hair back from your face gently. He watches the way you’re trying to make everything perfect. He can’t remember the last time someone paid attention to him like this. His mind is telling him to sprint in the opposite direction, to excuse himself and never come back. He’s terrified. But he stays. I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.

You pull him from his thoughts by handing him the mug of warm coffee. He takes it from you carefully, and, without breaking eye contact, takes a sip. He smiles, really smiles. That’s all the validation you needed.

“Let me show you where we bake everything,” you say quietly, as if you’re afraid to burst this bubble of warmth and trust you’ve created. You’re scared he’s going to bolt if you give him the chance. So, you don’t. You take his hand once more, and guide him through to the kitchen.

“Have you done much baking in your life, Bucky?”

No, he thinks. But I will. I’ll bake everyday for the rest of my life if it means you’ll love me. If you’ll make me coffee and smile at me like that.

Instead, he answers cautiously.

“Not really. I’d like to, though.” He adds that last part bashfully. You smile back at him earnestly.

“Well then you’re in the right place,” you wink. He has the overwhelming urge to drop to his knees. To pray at your altar. To worship you like an angel sent down just for him. He’s surprised he’s still stood on two feet.

Before he can even register what’s happening, you’re beginning to create a mixture for your infamous cookies. You direct him to stir, while you add meticulously measured ingredients into the bowl.

“Put those arms to good use,” you’d smirked, and a blush had risen up to his cheeks almost instantly.

You click the radio on, and a soft, jazzy melody begins to drift through the room. You’re humming quietly, gliding around the kitchen, and he decides that this is it for him. You’re it for him. He could watch you do this every day and die a happy man.

Cookies baking in the oven, you jump up to sit on one of the counters. Bucky moves to stand in between your legs, still being careful to keep his distance ever so slightly. He knows if he touches you, he won’t ever want to let go.

“This wasn’t as scary as I thought it was going to be,” he confesses.

“What, me?” you tease.

“No. Coffee. And cookies,” he chuckles.

“Are there lots of things that you haven’t done because you find them scary?” you ask genuinely. You want to know him. All of him. Fears, wants, quirks. All of it.

“Yeah, actually. The world is so different now. I don’t really know where to start. It’s all terrifying, honestly,” he laughs. You laugh with him, but you know there’s truth to his words. You want to wrap your arms around him. He may be 6 foot tall and made of solid muscle and vibranium, but you want to protect him.

“Why don’t we do it together?”

A pause. He’s confused again.

“Do what together?”

“All of it. The learning. I’ll help you. Everything is less scary if you do it with someone else.”

It’s now that he’s convinced he’s dreaming. You can’t be real. Why would you be here, offering him everything, after all that he’s done? He has to remind himself. I deserve this. I deserve something good.

You can sense his trepidation, so you keep talking.

“Why don’t we make a list? You write down the things you want to learn about. I’ll write down other things I think you should know. You’ll be an expert on the 21st Century before long, Buck.”

Buck. The nickname sounds like a gift coming from your lips.

“Okay. Yeah. Are you sure you don’t mind?”

The anxiety is coming off him in waves. He’s panicking. You grab a hold of both of his hands, and place one on each of your legs, just above your knees. He steps in closer, and takes a breath. You’re warm, and you’re soft, and you’re love personified. He’s okay.

“Of course I don’t mind. I’m excited!” you assure him. Then, quieter, “It means I get to spend more time with you.”

He aims a beaming, megawatt smile in your direction. He feels as if his nerve endings are alight. You’ve awoken something in him. He’d forgotten what it was like to feel like this. To feel alive.

You reach over and grab your notebook. In it, you simply write his name, followed by a love heart. Then, underneath, you begin to list everything you can think of that you want to teach him. You hand the list to him, and he adds his own requests. Between you, you manage to write 50 different lessons.

“Perfect. We’ll start with number one, and work our way down. Are you busy tomorrow evening?”

He chuckles at your eagerness, but secretly, he can’t wait. He knows he’ll be counting down the hours until he can see you again.

“Nope, I’m not. You are my only priority, sweetheart.”

The term of endearment seeps into your skin, settles in your ribcage. You’re convinced it’ll warm you up from the inside out. If he keeps calling you sweetheart in that Brooklyn drawl of his, you’ll never be cold again.

　            ⋆ 　　 .  ✵　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 　 ⋆ 　　 .  ✵ 

You’re not sure if you’ve been swaying in your kitchen with Bucky to Marvin Gaye for 2 minutes or 2 hours. You’re comfortably settled into him, as if the space in his arms was made especially for you. Maybe it was.

Bucky’s voice breaks through the solitude.

“You know, I’ve created my own list,” he murmurs against the top of your hair, where he’s resting his head.

You pull back, still in his arms, to look at him carefully.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Read it, and tell me what you think.”

He untangles himself from you and crosses the room, to retrieve his leather-bound notebook. He returns, and places it carefully in your awaiting hands.

You flick open the cover to reveal the first page. You recognise his handwriting instantly. It’s spiralling, and imperfect, but so Bucky. At the top of the page, you spot the title – your name, with a love heart next to it. Exactly the same as you’d done for him when you’d originally created your list together.

Underneath your name, only one thing is written.

I love you.

You look up at him, to see him watching you, holding his breath. Neither of you know what to say. You know what you want to say. You want to tell him that you hope the list never ends, so you always have an excuse to spend time with him. You want to tell him that you watched him walk past the door of the Bakery every day for 3 months because you thought he was the most beautiful person you’d ever seen. You want to tell him that every time he looks at you, you feel as if you’re going to pass out. You want to tell him that you can recognise him anywhere, by touch or smell alone. Instead, you say,

“You do?”

That genuine, million dollar smile is back, etched on his face. He’s glowing, light radiating from his bones.

“Yes. I do. I think I’ve loved you ever since I saw you waiting for me on the doorstep of the Bakery that day.”

You think you might be floating. Levitating above ground, fuelled by love. You laugh.

“That’s the exact moment I fell in love with you.”

He laughs with you, then. You could get drunk off the sound.

“I didn’t think love at first sight was a real thing. I thought I was going crazy,” he confesses.

He’s convinced that the two of you have discovered something, invented it even. Because he doesn’t understand. If love feels like this, so all encompassing, so consuming – how does anyone live? Every moment of every day, Bucky thinks of you. How does anyone go to work? How does anyone ever feel sad, or angry, when love like this exists?

You drop the notebook and cross the room to him. He closes the gap, and throws his arms around you, spinning you in circles, laughing with joy. He sets you back on your feet, and tilts your chin up, so you’re looking into his steel blue eyes. You could drown in the ocean of his irises if he let you.

He leans down, and presses his lips to yours. He’s giving you all of the love, the joy, the laughter – everything good that he has ever felt, because of you – through his kiss. Your knees go weak, and he holds you up by your waist, his strong arms encircling your frame. He tastes like coffee, and sugar, and promises. You’ll never want to taste anything else.

Eventually, you break away for air. You gaze up at him, and he sees sunshine in your eyes. He’s not sure what he did to earn a love like this. You seem to sense his doubts creeping in, because you say, in the most assured voice he’s ever heard –

“No one has ever loved anyone as much as I love you.”

I deserve this, he thinks. I deserve something good.

[moonchildstyles]

For a possible smutty gravity blurb: maybe something they haven’t tried before?? Like maybe flower watches one of his streams or something and he’s talking abt some type of kink/situation they’ve never done before and she gets all nervous bc she wants to do that but she’s kinda insecure bc why is he talking about it on stream but not to me??? And so maybe there’s a wholesome communication moment butttttt they end up doing that thing:) idk just a thought hehehehe

cw: anal play involved!! if that makes you uncomfortable please skip :)

wordcount: 10.2k+

—————

The end of autumn chill swirled around (Y/N) in a fluttering gust, the ends of her hair being lifted along the sweeping breeze. Her nose felt chilled, among the elements, any bare swatch of skin prickled with goosebumps. Despite her hand being exposed to the elements, she didn't notice much of that cold with the way Harry had it wrapped in his own. Walking her out to her car, he swung their hands between them in a juvenile show of affection. Since he started, she hadn't been able to wipe the smile from her face. 

Looking up at him, seeing the tip of his own nose flushed with a chill to match that of his cheeks, her grin widened. He still had his glasses on from class, a heavy cardigan on his torso with his curls still a bit loose from his morning shower. 

"What?" he asked, glancing down at her with a wide smile, his dimples and bunny-like front teeth on display. 

"Nothing, just looking," she muttered through the curl of her lips, "You're working tonight, right?" 

"I am, yeah," he sighed, "Sorry." 

Creases pulled her brows into a furrow. "Why are you sorry? It's your job, don't be sorry." 

"I know," he drawled, the same way he always did when she had to remind him that there was no reason for guilt tied to his line of work. "But, I was wanting to spend time with you tonight instead." 

Bumping his shoulder, her gentle scolding tone melted, "You know, I could still come over." 

A shy flush bubbled to the surface of his cheeks, painting him a deeper shade of red than the wind could accomplish. "You'd distract me too much." 

"I think we could still get through," she teased, her voice lilting as she bumped her hip against his once more. 

"Maybe, another time, flower," he murmured, looking down at her with an expression she figured was better suited to the man on camera and not the physics tutor he was during the day. 

"Another time, then," she agreed, pushing back the sudden need to squirm as his eyes traced down her form. 

Approaching the parking lot, her car in the lucky space close to the building, (Y/N) pretended as if she didn't cut her pace to make slower strides. She wanted an extra couple of seconds with him, even if it meant walking like the people she complained about on campus between classes. 

"Did y'still want me to call you before bed?" 

"Yes, please," (Y/N) answered, "If you're not too tired, anyway." 

"Never too tired for you, love." 

Thinking back to the first days of knowing Harry, remembering the way he struggled to meet her eyes or would flush immediately when she said something as simple as his name, it was hard to compare him to the version that stood before her now. Openly flirting with her and agreeing to another time where she could sit in on one of his cam sessions and distract him for fun. It was no wonder she had never seen the obvious signs tying the camboy on her computer to her physics tutor. 

"Get home safe, yeah?" he murmured to her, stopping at the bonnet of her car. Using his hold on her hand he turned her to face him. 

"I'll text you," she smiled up at him, rising to her tiptoes for a moment to press her lips to his in a small kiss.

Harry chased after her, unwilling to let the kiss end just yet. He won his reward of an extra peck before she started pulling away. He'd been late to his afternoon classes one too many times after walking her back to her car, claiming he just wanted to make sure she made it there alright when they really ended up spending time kissing until his cheeks were flushed. 

"Go to class," she reprimanded him, drifting away from him towards her car. 

Keeping his hand clasped in hers, Harry elongated that contact until he couldn't anymore, his fingertips grazing hers before they dropped to his side. "Love you." 

"Love you, too, H. I'll see you tomorrow." 

A toothy grin spread across his cheeks as he looked at her, his eyes impossibly behind the lens of his glasses. "See you tomorrow.

She gave him a tinkling wave as she stepped into her car. He would stay there until he saw her pull out of the lot, keeping to his promise of ensuring she started her journey home safely (he knew too many statistics about driving accidents to freely let her go without being there in case of emergency, he'd said). But, even as she pulled out of the lot into the main road, she could see him in her rearview mirror, standing with his hands on the straps of his backpack, wide grin on his mouth. 

There was the tutor version of him again; the one that was soft and smiley, shy and wrapped in sweaters. She was going to have to tune into his stream tonight to get the other side of him.

—————

While tuning into Harry's shows were something that she always found fulfilling, there was something especially satisfying now that she knew who he was and knew him as more than just a faceless crooner. Though, she could admit, she still felt a bit shy when she logged in. 

However, it didn't take her long to sink into the night session when she tuned in after putting away her study materials for the night. Checking the time, she knew Harry would be in the middle of his stream then, the temptation too much to ignore before she was logged in and watching him as he cooed and moaned for the camera. 

By the time his screen was pulled up for her, his tip meter was already full and over the edge, his shirt off and his hand wrapped around his cock though his boxers were still on. She knew this routine—it was one of her favorites, anyway; he was in the mood to tease the audience tonight. He was going to coax them into begging for him, asking for more of daddy before he would be so inclined to give it. His chest was flushed a warm red, complimenting the black tattoos inked on his skin. Blocks of muscle were bunching and straining, his abs shining with a layer of sweat. The camera had almost everything in view, going as high up as to capture the line of his throat before cutting off at his jaw.

Plugging her headphones into her ears, she heard the labored sound of his breathing, the rich gravel of his town heavy on his tongue, and the slick sound of his fist passing over his length. 

She had her hands on her keyboard, reading to type something out for him to test if he had his eyes on the chat, but she stopped short when he resumed talking. He was detailing out a fantasy for them, one she had never heard fall from his lips before. 

"Would you like that, baby?" he asked, words drawling and dripping out of his mouth, "You'd let me try with you? You'd let me play with your cute little ass?" 

Just out of view of the camera, he threw his head back, his breathing labored. She could see the stretch of his neck, flushed with his Adam's apple bobbing. His hand on his cock quickened, his fist slapping against his skin. 

"You'd let me do that?" he continued, his voice completely breathless with his chest heaving, "Let me fuck you from the back and see where else you could take me? Play with you a little?" 

With a fluttering blink, (Y/N) couldn't take her eyes off of what her Harry was doing on screen. Though he'd never brought it up to her before, it didn't take much for her to picture what he was offering for the audience. 

She could be on her hands and knees for him, Harry kneeling behind her with his thighs smacking against the back of her own as his cock sank in and out of her pussy. Her heart was in her throat when she pictured him spreading her cheeks apart and thumbing at the second entrance he was speaking up, the second place she could "take" him like he said. 

Is that something he wanted? He wanted to play with her, see what else he could mold her body into doing for him, see what reactions he could garner from her? 

"You'd love it, sweetheart, I promise. I'd be so gentle, so gentle," he rambled, his voice sounding airy and lost the longer he sat with his fantasies. "I can put in a couple of fingers, show you how good it feels. I think I could make you cum like that. You want that?" 

Her designated nickname pricked her ears. He didn't even know she was tuning into the show yet, having been frozen since he started speaking with no comments in her name being sent through the chat yet. He was thinking of her?

The idea made her thighs tense, her stomach squeezing into a tight knot. 

There had never been a time in her life that she had considered allowing anyone to feel around anywhere other than her pussy, but the thought of Harry wanting to feel and touch her everywhere plucked at something in her. Leave it to him to make even the most unappealing of things into something she could see herself wanting. 

"Fuck you everywhere, sweetheart, that's what I want" he groaned, the pace of his hand on his cock causing the band of his underwear to slip low enough to show off his length. "Gonna cum jus' thinking about it." 

Sucking in a deep breath, (Y/N) listened to his breathing hitch and shudder, changing to match the heavy pace of his hand on his cock. He really was going to cum, that much she could tell. His abs were tight, skin flushed, and the base of his cock tight from the sliver of skin she could catch on screen. 

"C'mon, sweetheart, tell me you'd let me try with you. Let me have more of you."

 His chat was flooded with responses, going way too fast for (Y/N) to even attempt to concentrate on. She could imagine it was filled with the confirmations that he wanted, dirty promises that any of these audience members would spread open for him at any given moment. His tip meter had well exceeded the goal amount, the donations and tiny messages attached seemingly only urging him on. 

All (Y/N) could give her attention to was the amount of times he uttered her nickname, asking her if she'd let him try his fantasy with her. That he promised that he would make it good for his sweetheart, that he'd be as gentle as he could be when sinking his fingers in and fucking her everywhere he could reach. 

She felt as if she were out of her body, watching as he plucked down the band of his boxers. His heavy cock bounced up against his stomach before he caught it in his slick fist. His length was wet and flushed, precum pooling on the tip and dripping down his shaft. She was sure her mouth had dropped into a gape. This fantasy had elicited that kind of reaction from him. Her tummy tightened at the thought.

Though she was aware he was talking, spinning a story for his viewers to be entranced with, (Y/N)'s own head was spiraling around her own story. 

Would he help hold her hips up when she couldn't anymore? She already felt full enough with his cock inside her, how much more would she feel with him like that? With his stamina, how long would he have her buried against the mattress, opened up just for him? 

Before she could even be aware of the moment, she heard a familiar gasp in her headphones. Her eyes refocused on the screen, Harry's cock spurting with ropes of cum. Strings decorated his chest, slicking over his tattoos in milky pearls. He groaned, chest heaving with blushing skin. His throat was bobbing, the skin stretched with the very ends of his hair visible on the edge of the screen. She could picture his eyes closed, lavender eyelids fluttering with dark lashes. His mouth would be set into a gape, a pinch between his brows.

One of these days, she was going to end up going to his apartment after one of his streams. It wasn't fair that he was able to perform like that and she wasn't in his bed at the end of the night. 

Harry recovered soon enough, cleaning off his chest and giving his signature send off for the night. 

(Y/N) was still far from joining him in that headspace even when the screen blacked out, his page settling for the night. Her brain was still where he was describing his fantasy, where she could picture herself on all fours for him. 

Replacing her laptop lid and sliding the device away, she rolled onto her back in the folds of her comforter. Staring up at the ceiling, she attempted to gather her bearings. 

Now that more of the lust and the initial intrigue began to wane, she was left with a question. 

Why wouldn't he tell her about this? Obviously, he had quite the feelings towards this fantasy, given the fact he was so worked up, cumming before she even really had a chance to catch up. Why was his first choice to share this with strangers on his stream as opposed to telling her?

To be fair, it was a rather intimate dream, even more than what they usually did with one another. But, considering the details of their relationship—her being an avid viewer of his before knowing his identity, Harry being an active cam-personality, as well as the time they sexted with one another before even knowing who they were—there were very blurry lines when it came to what could be "too much". 

She hoped she had shown that she would be open to trying anything for him, just the same way he is with her. 

Their phone call tonight would be interesting.

—————

"Hi, flower."

Snuggled in her duvet, (Y/N) relaxed into the mattress at the sound of his voice. "Hi, H. What are you doing?" 

"About to fall asleep," he shared, his voice decidedly deeper than usual, "What about you, love? Y'get all your studying done?"

"Mhm," she hummed, casting her mind back to the hours before she tuned into his stream. They didn't seem so important compared to everything that happened after she slid her textbooks out of the way. Harry didn't even know yet that she had been present during the show, and she wasn't sure if she wanted to tell him. A part of her wanted to wait and see if he would broach the subject of everything without her having to bring it up. "How was your show?" 

"Short," he laughed, the sound a warm vibrato, "I got too worked up and barely made it through a half an hour." 

"Yeah?" she prodded, hoping to open up the conversation for him, "What happened?" 

"Jus' m'imagination running a little too wild," he sighed, paraphrasing everything she had already heard through her headphones, "Thought about you a little too much, of course." 

The timber of his voice fell as he spoke his last statement, enticing her through the phone as if that was a hard task for him to pull off. His voice was what paid half of his bills anyway—his body handled the other fifty percent. 

(Y/N) felt a tad on the breathless side when she spoke next, settling back into the way she had integrated herself into his story; she could still see herself on her hands and knees, spread open for him with whines falling from her lips. "What do you mean?" 

"You know what I mean, sweetheart," he drawled, the smug smile on his lips audible through the phone, "You've seen the shows; you know what I think about when it comes to you." 

It was hard not to get wrapped up in his words. Even with the small plan she had in her back pocket, this being her attempt to gather more information about the fantasy she shared with strangers on the internet, it was all too easy to fall into that soft, velvet coated space with him where his words were like silk and honey dripping over her skin. He knew exactly how to talk to her. 

"Yeah," she swallowed, closing her eyes with her cheek mushed against her pillow, "But, was something different about today?" 

Harry hummed as if he were considering her question. This would be the moment, she figured. This would be when he'd bring up the fact that he wanted to try something new with her, lay her out on his bed and take her in every way he could. 

"I jus' think I miss you, that's all," he told her, deflating that anticipation ballooning in her chest. "I feel like 's been a while since I've had you all to myself, don't you think?" 

Truthfully, they spent the entire weekend at his apartment, studying and working on papers in-between cuddles on the couch and romps in his bedroom. 

"I think, we had all weekend together," (Y/N) laughed, teasing him some as if she still wasn't itching for alone time with him. 

"I guess we did, huh," Harry joined in, "Jus' not enough for me then, I guess. You've spoiled me, now I'm always going to want more." 

That declaration pinged in the back of her mind. He wanted more, that's what he's said in the stream. He wanted more of what she had to give him. 

"I can do that," she answered instinctively, her voice a bit breathy over the line. 

"Yeah? Gonna keep spoiling me?" he teased, his demeanor decidedly much more light-hearted compared to the creeping in of lust into her tone. 

"I'll try." She'd try to be everything he wanted, she decided. She was going to be the place he indulged and shared those intimate stories with, not the internet. 

A soft sigh sounded on the other line. "Y'always do, flower," he crooned before a yawn cut him off, "'M about to fall asleep, love, 'm sorry." 

"Don't be sorry," she rushed out, feeling guilty now that she's trying to extract information from him when he started the call telling her just how sleepy he was, "Go to sleep and I'll see you tomorrow, right." 

"See you tomorrow," he confirmed, his voice heavy and dripping, "Love you." 

"Love you, too, H. Goodnight." 

Harry shared a final goodnight with her before the call ended with (Y/N) left in her lonely bedsheets and the new facet of him she learned today. 

Her eyes shuttered to a close as she sunk into the silence of her bedroom. She hadn't been lying when she said that she would try to do that—be that—for him. Why he didn't tell her in the first place, wasn't something she could dwell on at the moment. She needed to focus on plucking up the courage to do what she promised. 

—————

"I'm still coming over tonight, right?" 

Harry's smile bloomed over his lips, dimples deep in his cheeks. "Of course," he murmured, dipping his head down through the open window of her car to press a kiss to the apple of her cheek, "Should jus' live there, if you ask me." 

(Y/N)'s own lips were curled into a soft smile as she looked up at him. This wasn't the first time nor would it be the last time she heard of this want of his. "We'll see," she settled, "Let me know when you're back then I'll head over." 

"I will," he smiled, pressing another delicate kiss to her mouth before pulling away. "I love you." 

"I love you, too," she cooed, "I'll let you know when I make it home." 

He murmured a small thank you against her skin before pulling away. He waved a goodbye at her as he stepped back from her car, giving space for her to pull out of the parking lot. 

Flicking her gaze to the rearview mirror, Harry nothing more than a cardigan covered figure that grew blurrier and blurrier until she took the turn to leave him out of her sight, (Y/N) could feel her heart rate spike. 

She had a plan. The idea of setting it in motion elicited that nervous excitement in her. All she wanted was for it to go along without a hitch, and spend a special night with Harry. 

When she laced this whole thing together the night before, she decided that when she went over that night, she wouldn't even really address what she had heard him say in the stream. She would initiate everything, pushing a little bit for the taboo idea he had shared, telling him that she wanted to try something new with him. She would tell him that she wanted to give more of herself to him. 

It wouldn't take too much convincing, she figured. She already knew he had quite the affinity towards the idea of trying out both of her entrances. All she had to do was frame it with all the confidence she could muster. 

And, maybe a cute set of lingerie she had bought with him in mind. 

—————

The soft sound of lips parting and coming together once more filled Harry's apartment, the television screen a plain black as (Y/N) didn't want to waste time playing pretend with a movie night or watching an episode of their show. Instead, she didn't take much time before she was climbing atop his lap on the couch, her thighs astride his hips and Harry's hands on her waist.

"Sweetheart," he sighed into her mouth, his grip on her waist tightening as if she would slip away without him, "I've missed you." 

(Y/N)’s own hands cradling his jaw, thumbing at the planes of his cheeks. Tipping her head in an effort to deepen the kiss, her tongue sweeping across his own, her nose the side of his own. "I missed you too, daddy." 

She could feel the way his title affected him, his cock hard and heavy against her own core. He used his hold on her as leverage to help grind her down against him, (Y/N) practically able to feel the ridge of his head and the pulse of his heart through the thin fabric of her shorts. His grey sweats left little to the imagination. 

"Say it again." 

Moaning into his mouth, a crease knitted her brows the further she sunk into the moment. This was her chance, she was vaguely aware of. She was so ready for him, she lacked those nerves that came with vulnerability and she doubted Harry would be self-conscious enough to deny any indulgence into his fantasies. 

"Daddy," she moaned, leaning into him that much more. 

Snaking a hand down his form, (Y/N) followed the line of his shoulder down to his forearm. She reached to grab at his wrist before guiding his hand down lower on her body. Harry pliantly let her move him until they reached the full of her ass, the plush skin denting under Harry's fingertips. She pressed back against him, encouraging him to grab and play with her just like he said he wanted. 

Harry was all but melting between her thighs. His kissing was growing lax and heavy, his tongue playing with her own in languid strokes. His heartbeat was racing but there was no urgency in the way he handled her. He luxuriated in every touch, every stroke, every grab. 

It didn't take long for him to bring his other hand down to match the first, gripping her bottom in the span of his palms. Her skin felt flush everywhere he touched her, making it easy for her to push back against his hands and urge him to take the more he had been searching for. 

"What's gotten into you?" he murmured, his voice heavy and watered down through the interrupting kisses. "Not that I don't like it, but you're being different, sweetheart." 

To his credit, she was definitely going out of her way and initiating more, asking for more, doing more than she ever had before. She was always perfectly content with Harry calling the shots and sinking into that persona he felt comfortable in when it came to the bedroom. While she wasn't planning on taking that power from him tonight, she still had an end goal in mind that she was willing to guide him into meeting her at. 

"Sorry," she answered, taking her lips to the corner of his mouth as they caught their breath, "I can stop. I just didn't realize how much I missed you, that's all." 

"No, no, don't slow down," he urged her, pulling her flush against him with his hands on her ass, "Jus' want you to talk to me. What do you want? What do you want daddy to give you?" 

Traveling down his neck, her lips never left his skin as she dragged a string of kisses over the slope of his throat. "I want to try something new," she whispered, hiding in his neck as she spoke. 

"New?" he clarified, his voice vibrating through his throat, "What do you mean, hm?" 

Was there a pretty way to phrase what she was going to ask for? (Y/N) wasn't sure, but she was going to try her best. As lusty as she was, she still was a little too shy for the more vulgar of phrases.

Instead, she pressed her bottom back against his palms, the ridges of his palms and the digits of his fingers could be felt through her sleepover shorts. "I want more of this," she told him, nose skimming his hairline with her eyes shuttered closed. "Inside." 

All at once, clarity seemed to move into Harry. 

Shifting his hold on her, one palm returned to the curve of her waist and the other landed on the back of her neck. He drew her away from her hiding place, forcing her to meet his gaze. 

The lush green of his eyes had been depleted into something dark and foresty, a thin ring around a dilated pupil. 

Fluttering her eyes in a blink, she dropped her gaze down to the swollen pillows of his lips. "Why'd you stop?" 

A lopsided curve tugged at the corner of his lips. His hand on the back of her neck shifted until he was cradling her jaw in his palm, thumbing at dip under her chin. "Wanted to talk to you for a second, that's all." 

Her heartbeat sped up in her chest, though no longer because of the lust she had feathering through her veins. "About what?" 

Amusement flickered through his gaze. "About what y'jus' said to me." 

Underneath her, Harry looked every bit the boy she had met in her physics course, the one that was too shy to meet her eyes and overly apologetic any time he had to scoot past her. He was the one that had tutored her through the toughest lectures and exams, willing to take his time and teach her things she wouldn’t have understood without him. She remembered him with flushed cheeks and chunky glasses, always warm under a heavy cardigan and a shy smile. 

But, he wasn't acting like that boy. He was acting like the performer he was on screen. He was coaxing and teasing her, easing her into spilling her guts and cumming for him the second he requested as much. It wasn't fair; he was too cute, making her feel so safe to let go and be whatever she wanted to be, but entirely too hot to let her hand a clear head. 

When she didn't answer, the cam performer continued, "Y'said y'wanted more of this, right?" He emphasized his question with the hand on her waist sliding down until he was warming the curve once more, fingers denting the soft flesh.

With a flutter of her lashes, (Y/N) gave a quiet nod of her head. 

Harry hummed at her nonverbal answer. He tipped his chin and pressed a small kiss to her lips. It was a distraction as he led both his hands to sit on her bottom. This time, he made a point of sliding them under the hem of her shorts, skin to skin. 

"What did y'mean by inside, flower?" 

(Y/N) bought herself time by pressing another lingering kiss to his lips. There was that bashfulness rearing its head once more. She would have to tap into his confidence if he wanted her to be blunt. 

"You know," she murmured as if that were a real answer. 

"Do I?" he prodded, smiling into their kiss, "Because I think it sounds like y'want me to play with your cute little ass. Is that right?" 

Her chest expanded with a shuddering breath. "Uh-huh." 

Buttoning his mouth against hers one more time, he shared a quick kiss with her before pulling away. His pupils were still dilated and warm, but something was decidedly softer when his gaze met hers. 

"Is that why y'seem so nervous, right now?" 

(Y/N) clammed up at his words. He wasn't supposed to be so observant. 

"I'm not nervous," she argued, her hands falling to the planes of his chest. 

"Yes, you are," he countered, just as sweet as he smiled up at her, "And that's okay. I jus' want to know where your heads at. I didn't know y'ever wanted something like this." 

She shrugged, dropping her eyes to where her hands rested on his chest. She could feel the hard muscle underneath the soft fabric of his top. "I only want to try it with you." 

"Yeah?" he said, sounding a little too cocky to be safe, "And why y'didn't y'tell me before?" 

Before she could think much better of it, the adrenaline and endorphins in her system doing their job, (Y/N) fired back, "Why didn't you tell me?" 

She watched as Harry's brows creased at her words. "What do you mean, love?" 

Floundering over her words, (Y/N) knew she couldn't stop here. She had already started, there was no way of stopping in the middle of it all. "I saw your stream the other night," she blurted out, getting it out of the way and off of her chest, "The one where you talked about this stuff." 

Realization dawned on him then. "I didn't know y'were listening to that one." 

"I was going to comment or say something so you knew I was there," she explained, "But I had come in halfway through and you were already talking, and I've just never heard you talk about wanting that before. I was... surprised."

"Bad surprised or good surprised?" 

"Good surprised," she admitted, peeking at him through her lashes, "But, a little bit bad surprised because I had to hear about it through a stream and not from you." 

Adjusting his hold on her, Harry held her with an arm looped around her middle with his other hand still warming her jaw. Hugging her to his chest, she had no choice but to look up at him and meet his eyes. "I wasn't trying to keep anything from you, you know." 

"I know," she reasoned, understanding that part of his job was that it was an outlet for some of the more vulnerable things he hadn't admitted aloud yet, "But it sounded like you were talking about me, and when we talked later you said you were thinking about me while you were streaming. If I hadn't been watching, though, I still wouldn't have known." 

He took in her every word, listening to what she had to say before speaking. "I don't want to push you too far, that's all. I like what we have—I like making love to you,"—the phrase always brought a smile to his face when he said it, especially when (Y/N) grew shy—"and I didn't want it to be any different."

Pursing her lips, (Y/N) attempted to understand what he was getting at. "So, you don't actually want to? It was just a stream thing?"  

"Oh, no," Harry stopped her, a huff of his laughter fanning across her skin, "I definitely want to, trust me. I want you to want it too, and not jus' because y'feel like it would make me happy." 

"I feel like we do a lot of things because we know it makes each other happy, though," she started, maneuvering her arms until they were looped around his neck with her fingers edging into his hairline on the nape of his neck, "I don't think that's a bad thing as long as we're both comfortable, right?" 

"You do watch scary movies with me," he smiled, drawing a small breath of laughter out of her lungs, "But this is a little different, don't you think? I don't want to do anything with your body that you're not one hundred percent excited for. 'M only happy if you are too." 

Rolling her lips between her teeth, she leaned into his hand on her jaw. "I am excited, though—I want to do this. I just wish you had told me first." 

"Me too," he smiled, "Promise I wasn't trying to hide anything from you, I was only trying not to scare you." 

"I know," she murmured, turning her face until she pressed her lips into a small kiss against his palm, "I'm not scared—you already promised you'd be gentle." 

His grin widened at her reference to his stream, surely remembering his own fantasy in detail now that she was offering it up. "I did, didn't I?"

 "Mhm," she hummed, using that hold she had around his neck to draw him nearer, "You said a lot of things." 

"And, you liked it." 

"I did," she confirmed, the tip of her nose grazing his, "You don't make it sound scary or gross, or anything?" 

"Yeah?" he laughed, tipping his chin until he could press a tiny peck to her lips, "How do I make it sound?" 

"Really hot," she admitted, "I forgot everything I studied about as soon as I started listening to you." 

Harry gave a disapproving hum, teasing her. Resting the pad of his thumb against the full of her lips, he kept her from kissing him again, leaving her to listen as he spoke. "We'll have to work on that again later then, won't we? Go to the library again for some motivation?" 

The reminder of the time they had gone to the library and Harry helped her through that mental block with his hand between her legs was enough to get her squirming in his lap once more. He had to know exactly where her mind had gone when she saw his grin stretch his dimpled cheeks. 

"But, I should probably take care of you now," he mused, finally slipping his thumb from her lips as he smeared a kiss across her pout. "Y'deserve it for being so patient and talking to me about what you want." 

"I do," she absently agreed, melting into him. She was willing to take whatever he would give. 

(Y/N) indulged in the pillow of his lips, parting her mouth and taking the taste of him across her tongue. It was easy to slip back into that place with him, where her thoughts were wisps and her desires were candles lit aflame. His cock was still heavy in his lap, right where her core was resting with spread thighs, his lips still swollen, and skin still warm. 

"I love you," he murmured on a breath, breaking away though he didn't stray too far from her with his forehead resting on hers, "Let's go to bed, sweetheart." 

She let out a dreamy okay, following after him once he had her settled on her feet, back towards his bedroom. They didn't bother to close the door behind them, in too much of a rush before Harry was roughly handling her to be tossed amongst the folds in his bedding. 

A bright peal of laughter fell from (Y/N)'s lips at the act, her eyes creasing and cheeks split wide. Harry climbed his bed with a matching smile, hovering over her. 

"So pretty, you know that," he crooned, dropping a kiss on the apple of her cheek before he began his own pathway across her skin. He followed the soft planes of her face, grazing her eyelids and the bridge of her nose. (Y/N) couldn't help the soft breaths of laughter that followed the more affection he piled on her. 

"You're pretty," she answered through her smile, placing her hands on his cheeks to keep him from straying too far once he finally rested on her lips. 

A sly smile on his mouth kept her from getting a real kiss from him. He was bubbling up with something, she was sure. 

"I know," he teased, "You think 'm pretty enough to play with your cute butt, so." 

"Don't say it like that," she whined though her complaint held no grit through her toothy smile. She made a halfhearted attempt at pushing him away, though Harry stayed right where he was above her. 

"Am I wrong? I seem to remember a certain conversation we had just a minute ago." 

She didn't bother to answer him, instead smushing her lips against his in a silencing kiss. It was a bit off center, not quite matching up with her nose smushed against his cheek, but that didn't matter much to either of them. Harry happily fell into the contact without a single complaint.

Soon enough the silly kiss had melted into something serious, warm and languid. He laid heavily between her legs, his cock straining against his sweats with her loose shorts doing little to cover herself. His chest was pressed against hers, heartbeats side by side with every breath marked by the extra push of his blocky muscles against her breasts. 

By the time her breath was taken from her lungs, Harry pulled away first. He skimmed his kiss-swollen lips over her skin until he was hovering by her ear. "Y'really want to try it out tonight?" 

It didn't take a second thought before she was nodding her head.

"We'll go slow, (Y/N)," he cemented, pulling away to match her eyes intensely, "Jus' tell me to stop if you change your mind." 

"I will," she answered, knowing he wouldn't move on until he had that verbal confirmation from her, 

He gave her a pleased smile before he dipped down and pressed another small kiss to her lips. "Flip over for me, sweetheart." 

The flames in her stomach pitched into a bonfire at his command. That had been exactly what she was picturing. Harry gave her space to roll onto her tummy, helping her move until she was on her knees with legs spread and cheek pressed against his pillow. 

"This alright?" he checked in, dragging his warm hands down the backs of her thighs. 

She nodded with a pleasant smile on her mouth. "This is how I pictured it," she murmured.

Harry's touch solidified at her words, less glancing fingertips and more weight on his palms as he caressed her skin and felt every inch of the plush fullness. "You pictured it?

Her ribcage practically rattled against her heartbeat as he started pulling down her shorts and panties. He helped her navigate pulling them off of her bent legs and ankles with the way her mind was too preoccupied. Why didn't she just show up naked? It would have made this so much easier. 

"Uh-huh," she breathed, answering his question, "I-I wasn't sure what you had in mind, but I hoped it was like this." 

Harry hummed, bending down to press a kiss to the small of her back. He pushed the hem of her loose shirt up, revealing more and more of her skin though they were both too in a rush to take the time to completely undress her. Soon enough, Harry's shirt joined her shorts and underwear on the floor, his sweats and boxing being all that clothed him for the moment. 

"I have lots of ideas, sweetheart," he murmured, starting a path of planted kisses on the hills of her spine. "We'll only get through a couple today, but if y'like it, we can try so much more." 

The promise that there was more he wanted to show her, more times that she would be wrapped in his sheets, more of him that she would accept without a doubt, was enough to get her pussy fluttering. 

Going down the line, Harry started kissing over the globes of her bottom, delicate sweeps of his lips over the sensitive skin. She couldn't help the goosebumps that touched her skin, unfamiliar with the feeling of anything other than his strong hands skimming this part of her. 

"Gonna eat you out first, okay, flower?" he crooned, his words fanning out across her skin, "We'll start there, and we'll see how you feel." 

"Okay, Harry," she sighed, trusting him from where she lay with her cheek squished into the pillow and eyes fluttering to a close. The only thing she didn't love about this position: she couldn't see him. 

A beat later, she could feel the warmth of his breath fan across her core. She tensed some at the surprise, feeling her insides squeeze knowing that he was that close. She only had enough time to register that exhale before the flat of his tongue was licking through her wetness. Her own breath was sucked out of her lungs at the first touch against her clit, her folds being spread wide open around the width of his tongue. 

Sagging towards the bed, she arched her back that much more for him, presenting any and everything for him. Harry wrapped his hands around her thighs, palms warming the tops while his fingers wrapped around to the side insides and dented the delicate skin. His grip was steadying as he pointed the tip of his tongue and explored her opening, her walls pulsing. 

An all too smug breath of laughter fell from his lips when he pulled away. "Feeling good, sweetheart? Tell me." 

"So good, H," she bubbled immediately, no other thoughts attempting to take over at the moment. 

"Who?" he pressed, his hands on her thighs tightening though he didn't dip back down to her pussy like she wanted. 

"So good, daddy," she corrected, all but keening into him, hoping she gave the right answer and would feel more of him sliding through her folds and tasting her wetness. 

"That's better, sweetheart," he praised her.

With that, Harry's tongue was once more slipping through her wetness. He smeared his tongue across her core, taking in everything she had to offer while leaving a mess behind, comprised of both her slick and his saliva. Wet sounds filtered through his bedroom, along with the heady breathing coming from her and the contented noises coming from Harry. 

By the time (Y/N) had her slick covering her thighs, enough wetness to make her worry she was going to start dripping over his bed (though, seeing as how he enjoyed making her squirt, she doubted he would have minded), Harry began focusing his tongue over her pulsing entrance. More and more slick wept from her hole as he pointed the tip and slipped inside amongst her tight walls. She shuddered at the feeling, her breathing hitching as she attempted to bring in a deep breath. 

Before she could even register that she was missing contact on her clit, his fingertips were pressing against the bud. Tight circles were drawn around the top of her slit, her legs beginning to shake now that there was so much moire to focus on but less room in her brain to spare. He kept his other hand steady on her thigh, keeping her from falling while simultaneously being her grounding anchor. 

Her wetness dipped down his fingers, tainting his palm with a thin glimmer. Harry pulled away for a heartbeat, his breathing heavy. She could imagine the shine on his chin and nose, the flush to his cheeks, and the way he would be staring at her with intensity in his eyes. She could feel that heated gaze as his fingers trailed through her messy slit. 

When he reached her hole, he lingered for only a second before he was skipping upwards. Though (Y/N) knew this was coming, she still felt her heart skip a beat, her breathing shatter as she waited with bated breath.

He brought his slick fingers to her second entrance. In an instant, (Y/N) felt herself tense up, the foreign feeling shocking her. 

"'S alright, flower," Harry crooned to her, his words fanning across the rounded globes of her ass, "Jus' relax. 'S only me, and 'm going to be gentle, remember?" 

"I remember, I remember," she muttered in a rambling blurt. Honestly, if she had been asked what exactly she was remembering at that moment, she wouldn't have been able to give a straight answer. 

Working her through that initial shock, Harry circled his slick fingers around the puckered skin, delving his tongue back into her pussy to give her something familiarly fantastic to cling to. Her legs took as she took in the duo of feelings, her clit being laved over by his tongue with a part of her she never thought could be stimulated now pulling the breath from her lungs.

"Still feeling good, love?" he asked, drawing away for just long enough to ask before he was licking through her folds once more. 

It didn't take a second thought before she was breathing out, "Uh-huh, uh-huh." 

There was nothing else for her to say—especially if she wanted to sound coherent. Though it was still odd, the feeling of his wandering fingers, every pass of his fingertips over the tight opening had a pulse ringing through her insides. The flames in her stomach were tight and warm, coiling into a burn. 

"I knew you'd like it, sweetheart," he mumbled against her pussy, "Told you I'd be gentle. Jus' wanna open you up a little for me to fit a finger in, is that okay?" 

(Y/N) felt her eyes squeeze to a shut, creases knitting her brows together. "It's okay," she breathlessly answered, half-parroting his words back to him as that was all she could process in the moment. 

A groan rumbled through Harry's chest, the sound vibrating over her core. "You want that? Want me to finger your tight little ass, love?" 

Until Harry, those words would have turned her off, had her curling in on herself and ending whatever encounter had gone south, but hearing the vulgar request in his dulcet tone, rounded with lust, had both her entrances pulsing around nothing. 

"Tell me you want it, sweetheart." 

"I want it, daddy," she breathed out, a short whine cutting her off when he thumbed at her slick rim, trying to spread her open just like he said, "Please." 

"You're doing so good, my love," he murmured, dropping a kiss to the sensitive crease just between her thigh and the slick spread of her core. "'M going to give you everything y'want. I jus' need you to relax." 

Bringing her bottom lip between her teeth, (Y/N) sagged towards the mattress. She thought she had been relaxed, easing into everything and welcoming his touch. "I-I'm trying," she whined, "I thought I was doing good." 

"You are, flower, I promise," he soothed her, another kiss to the slick skin, "Y'might be thinking about it too much, that's all. Y'need a distraction, don't you?" 

(Y/N) didn't want to be distracted from a single touch he gave her, if she was being honest. She wanted to feel everything, know where his hands were, and find what she liked most. But, she supposed she might be too aware of every graze of his fingers, her body instinctively tensing and moving. 

"I think you do, sweetheart," Harry continued when he didn't get a response. 

The bed shifted behind her then, his hand stilling on her backside before she could feel his hips pressing against her ass. His thighs were lined up against her own with his hard cock sliding through the wetness of her folds. 

A gasp fell from her lips, the tip of his heavy prick nudging her clit. She felt her insides pulse, including the already tight hole he was trying to work open. She keened back against him, slicking his shaft and the trimmed patch of hair at the base. 

Smug laughter sounded behind her, Harry sounding much too pleased with himself and the reaction he could garner from her. 

"Stay still for me, love," he instructed her, "'M gonna help you." 

The steadying hand he had placed on her hip disappeared then, instead fisting at his cock before he was nudging the head into her entrance. Slick with both his saliva and every weep of her wetness, he slid in with no problems, a wet slap sounding once he bottomed out. (Y/N) reveled in the familiar feeling of fullness, completely spread wide open for his cock to push through her tight walls. She could feel the ridge of his head, the length of his veins, the slight curve that aimed him perfectly at the soft spot on her walls. 

She would never be used to the depth he reached in her, remembering the way he had teased such a thing on a stream before they even knew one another. She had figured it was nothing more than fantasy talk back then, something to get his viewers going as well as feed into something Harry could cum to. Now, she knew that was all very much the truth, feeling the stretch in her own body as if he were nudging as deep as her stomach. 

"Better, sweetheart?" he muttered, rearing his hips back before thrusting forward. He kept her on balance with his hand returning to her hip. Slick noises erupted around his cock as he sunk in, his hips slapping against her thighs. 

The pads of his fingers circled her back entrance through his distraction, though her attention had trouble splitting between his heavy cock and the foreign touch. She could feel the way he did his best to gently spread her open, easing her into being able to take one of his thick fingers.

"B-Better, daddy," she cried, reaching blindly for this hand on her hip. She needed something gentle and familiar, she decided. 

Harry welcomed her innocent touch, lacing their fingers together over the full of her hip together though her hold was decidedly looser given the monumental distractions she was going through. 

"Good," he huffed, matching that of a particularly hard thrust he gave. 

In that same moment, (Y/N) could feel the tip of one of his fingers slide inside her untouched opening. She gasped, mouth dropping open into a gape. 

It was more startling than anything, the small intrusion causing her body to tense up. 

"No, don't do that, sweetheart," Harry gently scolded her, keeping the pacing of his hips as he fucked her pussy, "Stay relaxed for me. You're doing so good, no need to be scared." 

She wanted to listen to him, she really did, but she didn't know how to relax. All she could manage was closing her eyes, flexing her fingers around his own, and focusing on the familiar parts of his touch. She tried to right her breathing, fix the uneven shuddering and replace it with something steady and consistent. 

"That's so much better, sweetheart," he cooed, dropping down to press a kiss to her shoulder, "Keep going, love. 'S jus' me." 

While she didn't feel as if she were relaxing any considering how tightly wound her tummy was and the pulsing of her walls, she was happy to hear that she was easing up for him. Her efforts increased tenfold when that same slick finger pushed deeper inside of her, the knuckle of his digit catching before he could go further. 

(Y/N) couldn't have prepared for how full she felt with his cock running through her walls and the small intrusion of his finger in her backside. The pace of her breathing she had tried to curate, the even intakes and exhales, was thrown out the window the second she allowed herself to take in the full breadth of that feeling. 

She could feel him everywhere: the slap of his thighs against the back of her own, his hand in hers, his cock spreading her open, and his finger venturing into her ass for the first time. 

There was no room in her head for anything but him; no wispy thoughts or anything that could form coherent words. She was drifting through his bedsheets as he did as he pleased with her. 

With her attention only on him and he he felt, she could feel the twitch of his cock through her walls, everything stretched so tight around him. He barely stroked his finger through her back entrance, pulling it out the smallest amount before pushing back through. He was curating two opposing rhythms, leaving a part of him inside her at all times. 

The thought had a broken moan leaving her lips.

"Fuck, you're so hot, baby," Harry muttered, the burn of his gaze trapped on her ass, "Gonna make me cum just from seeing my finger in your ass." 

"I-I—" she floundered, unsure of where her mind was as well as the moisture in her throat, "I-I want—daddy." 

A particularly harsh thrust was delivered, the bones of his hips pressing hard into her thighs. Another tiny bit of his finger sunk into her backside, enough to have (Y/N)'s back arching. 

"What do you want from daddy, sweetheart?" he asked, his voice strained and thin. His composure was waning. 

What did she want from him? What else could he give her that she wasn't already reveling in?

"C'mon, love," he coaxed, though his voice was decidedly harsher than she'd heard it before, "Don't go dumb on me yet. I still wanna hear my smart girl talk to me." 

If he thought that would help clear her mind, he was sorely mistaken when she felt another gush of her wetness seep around his cock, her clit throbbing, and walls pulsing around everything inside. He could barely move his finger though the fact that she was aware it was inside was just as effective as feeling him slide through her virgin opening.

"Oh," he sighed, bottoming out with hard and fast thrusts against her, "You liked that, my love? I'll have to remember that, won't I?" 

"Uh-huh, uh-huh." (Y/N) nodded her head with only half of her attention on what he was saying. 

He pulsed his hand around her own, keeping her steady and with him. "We'll have to save that for next time though, sweetheart. I think you're about to cum with daddy, right?" 

That was what she had wanted. The last thing he could give her was his release landing across the backs of her thighs. She could only blindly nod against the pillow, her hair sure to be a mess by the time she would actually start to care about anything other than her lust-filled body. 

"I can't last much longer, love," Harry started, his words emphasized with the way he had to grit them out, "But, I need you to cum first. Wanna see you cum with your pussy and ass filled with me. Make me proud, sweetheart." 

For (Y/N), time stopped right there. All that she was aware of was the man at her back and the perfect ribbon in her tummy that had unraveled in the most spectacular of fashion. Her mouth dropped open to a silent gape, nothing coming out given the fact she couldn't take any air in. Her head was cloudy and warm, matching the rest of her body. Points of clarity came in the form of Harry's hand on her hip, the tap of his balls against her clit, and the sharp unfamiliarity of the stretch of her second entrance. 

That was the only reason she was aware of the fact he had pulled out. She mourned the loss of him inside her—in both places—until she felt him cum against her pussy, warm ropes sticking to her skin. The mess between her legs was now a perfect miss of the both of them, dripping down the inside of her thighs.

Aftershocks came in the form of lingering spurts from Harry, and (Y/N)'s walls pulsing around nothing. She couldn't be sure when she returned to the land of the living, but when the details of Harry's room came back into focus, she swore her vision was sharper. There was a joke about good sex there, something about Harry being her cure-all, but there was no way she could even attempt a tease at the moment. 

She knew Harry was with her once more when he dropped down to press a set of kisses on the small of her back. His hands were on her hips, one still holding tightly to her own, while the other kept her steady as she began to lose her balance and sink towards his bed.

"You with me, (Y/N)?" he murmured against her skin, his voice gruff.

Flexing her fingers in his as a response, (Y/N) gave a small nod. "I'm here." 

"Oh, love," he sighed, draping himself over her back, his lips pressing to the line of his jaw and soft of her cheek, "You did so good, I love you so much. Did that feel alright? I didn't hurt you right?" 

"No, no, I felt really good," she breathed, a soft chord of laughter swaying out amongst her words, "I think I almost blacked out." 

"Oh?" he sounded, his own peals of laughter following right after, "In a good way, right?" 

Letting go of his hand, (Y/N) brought it up to pat at his cheek. "In a good way." 

"Good," he crooned, pressing a gentle kiss to the palm of her hand before he started extracting himself from her. "I'm gonna get some things to clean us up, 'kay? Stay right here." 

He must think he's so funny, she thought, but she didn't have it in her to play his back and forth at the moment. He could win this round.

By the time Harry returned with wet cloths and a pair of his shorts for her to borrow, all of the slick release coating her core and the inside of her thighs had cooled. It was an uncomfortable feeling that he took his time wiping away. He eased up around her sensitive spots, apologizing with kisses to the backs of her thighs and promises to be gentle. 

"Did y'really like it, (Y/N)? Everything we did?" Harry asked after a moment, wiping down the insides of her thighs. 

She bit at the full of her bottom lip, unsure of how to articulate what she had experienced. "It felt weird," she started, unable to find any other word to describe how she felt, "But, I liked it—a lot. I think it helped since it was you, and I love you, but it was... good." 

"Jus' good? I thought y'said you almost blacked out?" 

Blindly swatting behind her, she landed her hand in the soft swirls of his hair. She playfully pulled at the strands. "I'm too tired to play right now, stop," she laughed.

Her reprimanding hold of his hair turned into gentle carding through the curls as he took care of her. A beat passed, Harry finishing cleaning her up before he helped her into her borrowed shorts. Collapsing onto his bed, her back bouncing over the springs, she figured laundry, including the clothes on the floor, would have to wait for now.

Hovering above her, Harry looked to her with his clear green eyes—the same ones she had seen that first time in her physics class after he had taken a leap and took the seat beside her. She would be eternally grateful he had the confidence to do as much, otherwise she would have never learned just how many greens were in his irises.

"Really," he started out, voice gentle and quiet like a secret, "'M really happy y'felt good. It obviously worked very well on me too." 

(Y/N)'s lips turned into an amused smile as she reached up and pushed back the flop of curls covering his forehead. "See, this is why you tell me things like this first—not the stream." 

It was a lighthearted tease that had his mouth splitting into a smile, bunny teeth and dimples on display. He dropped his head to press an innocent kiss to the tip of her nose, though it wasn't quite as effective through his smile. 

"I've definitely learned my lesson, flower," he murmured.

(Y/N) could only tip her chin and press her lips to his. 

—————

this is.....very different SHFUSHFSUH thank u sm for reading, thank you to whoever requested, sorry for any mistakes and if theres any other ideas anyone else wants to see please send them in!

[cripplecharacters]

I have a character in a wheelchair, in a school/society that isn't up to modern code and would not be very accessible to wheel around in. Her chair is on the cheap side (definitely not motorized), and is a little old fashioned/outdated. She can't stand unassisted or walk more than a few feet at a time due to pain and balance issues (I'm still working on exactly what her diagnosis should be. Maybe I'll send you an ask about that later if I can't figure it out on my own) Do you have any advice - in general, but particularly on how to portray her friends helping her get around without making her seem helpless or committing any other faux pas? So far I know:

1: They should never touch her actual chair or pick her up, and so

2: Their help is mostly going to be delegated to changing the environment, not her. Opening doors, walking ahead to find an alternate smoother path, etc. (What if she's somewhere where there is no way through? Is it alright to have her leave the chair and lean on them or something in an emergency? Or should I just avoid writing those situations, favoring perception at the cost of realism?)

They don't follow her around everywhere, they're her friends not her caretakers, so she does get around by herself often. Is there anything else I should think about or is this alright?

Hi!

Sometimes it can be okay for them to touch her mobility aid if she allows them to. The never-touch-a-mobility-aid advice is real but is mostly meant for strangers who think they're helping someone by kidnapping them. Many wheelchair users get around exclusively by someone else pushing their wheelchair, it's all about consent.

If she needs to get to a place where the only way in are stairs, she might ask her friends to lift her wheelchair up with her still in it. But the key is that it's her initiative, and she's the one calling the shots because it's a very vulnerable position to be in. You can check out wheelchair skills videos like this one. Being in this scenario is obviously not ideal, but this is what people simply have to do.

I'd also try to figure out if she can transfer (get out of wheelchair into X and vice versa) on her own or not - if she can get on the ground safely and then back up, she could potentially learn to go upstairs backwards on her butt and drag her wheelchair in one hand, step by step. If she can walk a bit, she can use her wheelchair as a crutch and hold the railing with the other; for walking she can do that by leaning against a wall or holding onto someone for support. But if another person is involved, consent and warnings are key: they can ask where they should grab her by, she can tell them to walk slower or stop, instruct them how to safely sit her back in her wheelchair before they start walking, all that. They shouldn't treat her like a ragdoll who can't speak the moment she needs physical help.

If it's a modern-ish society then she could ask her friends to call the place they're visiting to check how accessible it is. Calling and trying to get it out of people gets exhausting, so the friends could learn to pre-call before making any meeting in a place. It's more just being considerate than anything else.

I wouldn't try to avoid realism; if the setting is inaccessible to wheelchair users then it should be shown, otherwise it should simply be accessible in the first place.

Realism of course will affect the "alternatives" when it comes to access. Every larger building has a back door to roll the garbage out, and in places where accessibility is uncommon to nonexistent, this will be the only ramp to the building. Behind-the-building dark alley garbage ramps are their whole entire thing. Same for finding smooth paths, in many places wheelchair users have to go on the road to be able to go anywhere and risk being hit by a car. My point is that these alternatives largely do exist, but they're not meant for disabled people even if there is no other alternative. Exploring this could also help with making your setting feel more real in general.

For many of the issues of "what about XYZ scenario?", if you were to put it in any search engine you will find mobility aid users trying to figure out the same thing or giving others advice because inaccessibility is still one of the biggest issues out here that we encounter every day. The extreme majority of the world is inaccessible and we try to adapt as much as possible; unless your actual scenario involves magic or aliens then there's definitely some sort of solution for it that's probably on reddit already.

[Disclaimer: not all wheelchair users can get out of their wheelchair without specialized equipment like a hoist. I assume that this is not the case for this character considering she can walk a tiny bit, but please keep this fact in mind for more severely disabled characters.]

mod Sasza

[writerslittlelibrary]

I'll protect you

masterlist apocalypse au masterlist

part 1 part 2 part 3

summary: infected had been roaming the earth for years, and you, being born after the outbreak, just had to be special. what happens when a certain redhead finds out about your secret? (based on tlou part 2)

pairing: Natasha x teen reader

warnings: angst, guns, fighting, injuries

genre: angst

words: 5223

a/n: finally the apocalypse au is here!!! I’m pretty sure I’ll just make this a compilation of one shots rather than an actual story, but we’ll see :) 

(reader is basically Ellie, just with some big twists 🫣) 

(If you played tlou part 2, but haven't seen any mcu movies, it is still totally possible to read this fic, as Natasha will just be an unknown character for you. If you've seen the mcu movies, but haven't played tlou part 2, it might be a bit more confusing)

You do not have my permission to repost, copy or translate my work

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Natasha walked through the streets, her gun in her hand, ready to shoot anything and anyone that would dare come her way. She had been in Seattle for a while, and even though the streets were destroyed due to the bombings, a lot of the building were still standing. They were probably fragile and looked extremely unstable, but they were still there. 

She carefully entered an apartment building, scared to get either jumped by Scars or Wolves again. She had run into both of them before, and she wasn’t much of a fan. 

Her shoulder still hurt from the arrow that Scar shot her with…

After going up the floors slowly, ensuring the hallways and rooms were clear, she found a stable, and somewhat clean looking room almost all the way at the top. The stairs were blocked, keeping her from going further up, and keeping others from being able to sneak up on her. 

The only entrance to the floor was the stairway, and that was exactly how Natasha liked it. 

She checked the room one more time before setting her backpack down next to a sleeping bag on the floor.

She checked the sleeping bag over, and it didn’t take long for her to realise it had recently been slept on. She reached for her gun immediately, keeping it close to her, and she searched through the room for supplies or a bag of any kind. 

It didn’t take long before she found one. An army green bag was stashed into a small hole under the desk. It was obvious someone tried their best to hide it. 

Natasha looked through the bag, finding nothing that she didn’t already have. Once she checked the smaller compartment, her heart stopped for a second. She had found a stuffed animal. The bag belonged to a child…

Natasha dug through the bag a little better, finding an old, damaged notebook. It had clearly been used a lot, and Natasha admired the artwork as she flipped through the pages. 

“Drop it,” a voice behind her suddenly said, and Natasha could hear a gun being loaded. She carefully laid the notebook down, raising her hands and turning around to face to gun. Turning around to face you. You were just a child…

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

Walking around the city was boring, especially because you had to stay hidden and on the look-out for Scars and Wolves. Moving around the city was a lot harder and went a lot slower with those guys around. 

You had met some of the Wolves years ago, when they still called themselves the Fireflies and were on some holy mission to make a cure for all of humanity.

You never bought their shit, and even though you grew up in a QZ, close to a Firefly nest, you never believed for even a second that a cure could ever be made. That was, of course, until you got bitten, and you survived. 

You had tried to get out of the QZ, wanting to leave the quarantine zone and explore the world by yourself. You hated living in the QZ. It may have been safe, but it was far from ideal. 

When you left, you had to go past hundreds of soldiers, making your escape a whole lot more difficult. Luckily you had always been good at sneaking around, being quiet and not making a sound. 

Once you were out of the QZ, it didn’t take long before you ran into a hoard of infected, and when you managed to only kill a few, due to your bullets running out, you had tried to run, fighting off any infected that came at you with your knife. You were pretty successful, apart from the fact that one of the Clickers had managed to bite your arm. 

You were upset to say the least, and frustrated that you had been so stupid to leave a safe place for some idiot adventure. You spend what you thought was your last two days in an apartment you found.

You didn’t want to turn, but you were out of bullets and you were to afraid to kill yourself with your knife, so you didn’t, instead settling on just waiting it out.

After waiting two or three days, you still hadn’t turned, and after inspecting the bite, you settled on the fact that it had not gotten worse over the days. The infection seemed to have stopped, and even though you were confused, you didn’t really question it.

After travelling around on your own for a while, you were found by a group of Fireflies, who, during a medical check-up you had no say in, discovered your bite mark.

They locked you up, performing all kinds of tests to make sure you were still sharp and alert. Eventually, after about a week, they settled on the idea that you were not going to turn, and that you could be the answer to making a cure. 

You didn’t really know what that meant, and you didn’t really care as you were finally allowed to get out of the chains and go to an actual room. 

Occasionally, Fireflies would enter your room to perform some more tests, taking your blood and asking follow up question on what exactly happened, and what you did after you were bit. You didn’t really bother to question them, because if you were actually the key to making a cure, you would want nothing more than your life to mean something. 

You were only 12 when you got to the Fireflies, and you hadn’t met a single Firefly that was around your age. That was, until a 16-year-old girl snuck into your room. 

Her name was Abby, and she told you she was the daughter of the doctor who could make a cure. She became your best friend, and she was there for you when the Fireflies announced you had to go into surgery. Dr. Anderson assured you everything would be fine, and after the surgery a cure would exist. 

What he failed to mention, however, was that making a cure would cost you your life. 

You didn’t know that, of course, nor did Abby, as she walked with you to the operating room, trying to help calm your nerves. 

You were scared, and you didn’t really had a good feeling about the situation, but you didn’t really bother to question it, knowing the only goal the Fireflies had was to make a cure. They wouldn’t endanger your life, would they?

It was Abby who killed her own father that day. It was Abby who got you out of that hospital. It was Abby that helped you run as the Fireflies hunted you down. 

No one knew it had been Abby, except for you, and her father as he laid dead on the floor of the surgery room. 

Abby found out you wouldn’t survive the surgery, and she had asked the other Fireflies if you knew that. They lied and told Abby you did, and that you were still okay with it. Abby knew you better then that, and she knew you would never lay down your life for the possibility of making a cure. 

When Abby discovered you weren’t the first immune person the Fireflies had tried to make a cure with, she was furious, knowing you were just another experiment to them. You weren’t going to survive the surgery, and the chance of making a cure was near to zero. 

And so, Abby had made the hard call to try and safe you, even if it meant going against her own father to do so. She had told him to let you go, but he threatened her, saying the surgery was the only hope humanity had left. It was one of the hardest things Abby had ever done, but she was determined to safe your life.

After you two had left the hospital, she drove you far away from it, heading for Seattle. 

You two stayed in Seattle for a while, but it didn’t take long until you were kidnapped by the main group inhabitating it. 

The Wolves.

The Wolves had tried to get you on their side, but you simply refused, all the while Abby was pretty quickly convinced with everything they were offering. They had food, apartments, safe places to stay and work, and even schools. 

Abby had tried everything to get you to stay, but you had simply refused, saying you were afraid they’d find out about your immunity and they’d try to kill you to.

You simply didn’t trust them, and so, you and Abby went separate ways. 

You were 14 when you found Jackson, a town not to far from Seattle. They had taken you in and cared for you, and when Joel found out about your immunity while seeing you breathe spores on patrol, they hadn’t tried to kill you. 

Joel, Tommy and Maria were the only ones that knew about your immunity, and they kept it a secret as they helped you hide it.

Joel helped you when you tried to hide the bite with a chemical burn, and a girl from Jackson had given you a tattoo to cover that scar. You were pretty happy with how it turned out. It was safe and hidden, not to mention it looking absolutely badass. 

When you were 15 and a half, someone in the town had information of trading with an outsider group. They told you they wanted information on one of their deserters, and when you heard it was about a blonde, muscular woman around 20, you knew you had to go look for her. Abby was there when you needed her, and now you wanted to return the favour.

That’s how you ended up in Seattle, staying in the apartments high of the grounds, away from the floods and the Wolves and you avoided the Scars high up in the air.

You had been in Seattle for a least 6 months now, and you were yet to find Abby, although you were certain you were getting closer. You had gotten multiple leads of the scars looking for a woman that fit her description. 

What on earth had Abby gotten herself into this time? Not only the Wolves, but the Scars were looking for her as well.

That’s how you ended up in this position, gun pointed at the red-headed woman as she stood there with your stuff in her hands. 

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

“What are you doing here?” you demanded, and Natasha tried her best to give you a reassuring smile. “I’m not here to hurt you, I promise,” she explained, but you kept the gun pointed. 

“I don’t mean you any harm. Do you think you can put the gun down?” Natasha asked you, but you just shook your head.

“How did you find this place?” you asked her, keeping the gun pointed at her head. 

“I just stumbled across it-”  

“Did the Wolves send you?” you interrupted her, and Natasha looked confused for a second before realising you must’ve ran away from the Wolves. She shook her head. 

“I swear I was just passing through, looking for a place to stay for the night,” she explained, carefully taking a small step closer. “You can trust me, I promise. I’m not going to hurt you,” she assured you, but you were careful to believe her.

“Why on earth should I believe you?” you asked her, yet Natasha merely shrugged. 

“I’m not a Wolf, and my face isn’t covered in scars,” Natasha reasoned, and you looked her over before slowly lowering you gun, keeping it loaded just to be sure. 

“I’m Natasha,” Natasha said as she slowly lowered her hands. “What’s your name?” “y/n” you told her, and Natasha smiled at you. “That’s a beautiful name. How long have you been here?” she asked, and you merely shrugged. 

“I dunno. I don’t care. I’m just passing through,” you said, repeating what Natasha had said just now, and watching as a smirk formed on her face. 

“Just passing through huh? You seem to be on incredibly high alert for someone who’s just passing through. Why would the Wolves have send me? Are they looking for you?” Natasha pushed, wanting to know what you could possibly be doing in one of the most dangerous cities she had crossed. 

You simply shook your head, putting the safety of your gun back on and putting it away in your belt. “You’re good with asking questions, but I’m not stupid,” you told her, taking a step closer and walking around her. 

Natasha seemed to get the hint, and she moved around you as well, taking a step away from your stuff and letting you put it back in your bag.  

“What are you doing here, all on your own?” she then asked you, and you smirked slightly as you shook your head. “Just passing through, like I said.” 

Natasha smirked at your stubbornness, before deciding to open up herself, hoping that would help you trust her. “I’m looking for my sister. The last message I got from her came from Seattle,” Natasha explained, and you stopped packing your bag for a moment as you looked at Natasha, confused as to why she’d tell you such a thing.

“Are you looking for someone too?” Natasha urged, and you sighed slightly as you finished stuffing your objects in your bag.

“Maybe your sister joined the Wolves. You aren’t allowed to have any contact after that,” you explained, and Natasha simply nodded, thinking for a moment before speaking again. 

“Did the person that you’re looking for join the Wolves?” she asked, and you looked down, not knowing what to say. “Maybe we can help each other,” Natasha suggested, and you looked at her confused. 

“Why would I trust you?” you asked her, and Natasha merely shrugged. 

“If I wanted to kill you, I would’ve done it by now,” she told you, and you glanced at the gun strapped to her thigh.

“Fair point,” you told her, walking to the desk and using a key to open the top drawer, taking out some bullets and medicine. 

“So that’s where you hid the useful stuff? Smart,” Natasha commented as she watched you load your stuff into your bag, making sure to keep her distance. “Are you planning on moving locations?” Natasha asked you, and you nodded.

“Scars build bridges high up to get around the Wolves and the flood. I’ve been using the bridges as well, but sometimes they sent patrols through the routes. The patrols are always small, yet I still don’t want to be here when they arrive,” you explained, walking to the door and checking if it was clear.

“Can I come with you?” Natasha asked, and you looked at her for a moment, contemplating on letting her go with you.

You didn’t really trust her, how could you, you just met. Yet you also didn’t get a bad feeling with her, and you liked that. You simply nodded at her question, and Natasha smiled as she took out her gun. 

“Did you see anyone come up here when you did?” Natasha asked, scanning the halls. 

You shook your head, taking the safety off your gun as you walked to the stairway.

When you made it to the stairway, you spotted seven figures on one of the bridges, heading straight towards your location. 

“I do now,” you said as you motioned for the group of Scars approaching you. 

“What do we do? This is the only way down?” Natasha asked as she loaded her own gun.

“Not exactly…” you told her, pointing to the other side of the hall. “There’s a stairway over there, and it’s never used by Scars…” you explained as you trailed off, checking the location of the patrol group before making your way towards it.

“Why do you say that with such hesitance?” Natasha asked, and you made an awkward face as you opened the doors.

Clickers could be heard coming from every direction, and Natasha grimaced as she realised that was your only way out. “Can you be quiet?” you asked her, and Natasha nodded as she screwed a silencer on her gun. She handed one to you, and you took it gratefully as you screwed it on your own gun.

You were so screwed…

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

After you and Natasha had cleared one floor, avoiding the Clickers and only taking out the Runners, you had made it to a second floor.

The only problem, you could see the amount of spores floating around through the small glass window in the door. Natasha took out her mask, but you didn’t, as you didn’t have one. 

“You don’t have a mask?” Natasha asked you as you slowly shook your head, not wanting to tell her about your immunity, but not really seeing any other option than to go through the spores. 

“It’ll be fine,” you assured her, but before you could open the door, Natasha grabbed your arm. 

“That many spores will take you life within seconds,” you told you, and you gave her a small smile. “Trust me, it won’t,” you told her as you opened the door, walking inside and breathing in the spores. 

Natasha was beyond confused, but when you didn’t start coughing she decided not to question it until after you had gotten out of the building. 

You and Natasha made your way across the floor, mindful of any Clickers that may have been on it, yet the only infected you had seen were the two Bloaters in the hallway. They were easily avoidable, but perhaps you had spoken too soon as you got jumped from the side, a Stalker on top of you, trying to bite you. 

You panicked and tried to fight it off, the commotion only alerting the two Bloaters as they now headed for the room you were in. 

For a second you thought Natasha had abandoned you to safe her own life, but that thought soon left your head as the Stalker’s limp body fell on top of you, a bullet hole straight through it’s skull.  

“Come on!” Natasha yelled as she pushed the Stalker off of you, grabbing your hand and dragging you to your feet, running to the nearest door and trying to open it.

“BLOATERS!” you yelled as you shot at the two infected behind you. The Bloaters were getting closer and closer, and yet Natasha could not get the door open.

“We’re gonna fucking die!” you yelled. 

“Like hell we are!” Natasha yelled back as she finally pushed the door open, pulling you through it and immediately barracting it from the inside. The two Bloaters ran against the door, and a loud ‘bonk’ could be heard as they tried to push it open. 

You leaned against the wall, hunched forward with a hand on your chest, trying to steady your breath. 

“You okay?” Natasha asked as she tried to catch her breath herself, already checking on which way you could go. You tried to speak, but you were breathing so heavily you opted to just raise your thumbs. 

“Why don’t the spores bother you?” Natasha then asked, and you looked up, surprised she asked so kindly. 

You simply shrugged, wanting to put off telling her about your immunity for as long as possible. “I just saw you breath enough spores to take down a dozen men! Yet you seem to be fine,” Natasha stated, and you sighed. 

“Spores just don’t bother me,” you told her, and she looked at you sceptically, wanting to continue looking for an answer, but when the doors started to get dents from the Bloaters running in to them so often, she decided against it, instead deciding to try and get down to the street as fast as possible. 

“We can move through here, but it’s gonna be a bit of a squeeze,” Natasha said as she pushed a fallen closet away from an opening. 

“I hope you’re not claustrophobic,” she then said, inspecting the small opening. 

You walked towards her, taking a deep breath before speaking. “I can fit,” you told her, and she nodded. 

“I’ll go first,” Natasha said as she pushed herself through the opening, turning back to you. “Try to stay close,” she told you, and you nodded. 

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” you told her before taking a deep breath in, squeezing yourself into the opening. “Cozy,” you mentioned, and you heard Natasha let out a little chuckle. 

“Let’s just go and get out of here as soon as possible,” Natasha said as she continued walking.

The two of you were going at a slow pace, but you were moving forward. That was until the ground beneath you became unstable, and after hearing a few cracks here and there, the ground gave up completely, sending you and Natasha tumbling to the floor below you. 

But the fall wasn’t one floor, or two. You fell three floors down until your back collided with the ground, and some of the rubble fell on top of you.

Natasha fell down next to you, she herself being seemingly fine. 

After a second of laying there, groaning on the floor, you heard growling and screaming coming from beside you. 

You turned to look at it, and when you did, you immediately regretted it. It looked like a Shambler, but even more mutated. There were arms and feet and heads sticking out everywhere, and you couldn’t even tell where the head of the original person was. 

It came running at you with an incredible speed, and while you tried your best to get the rubble off of you, Natasha scrambled up to help you, running towards you as fast as she could to help you get the rubble off. 

Once the mutated infected got to close, Natasha turned around, shooting it a few times, but it wouldn’t die. It didn’t even look bothered by the bullets Natasha impaled it with. 

You frantically tried to get the wooden planks and rubble from you, nearly crying when you realised you weren’t strong enough, and the mutated infected would probably get you. It came closer, and Natasha fell backwards as she kept shooting it. 

Once it got too close, the weight of you three and the rubble pushed the floor to collapse, making you all fall another floor down. 

Once you hit the floor, the rubble landed next to you, and Natasha helped you get up and dragged you as she ran to a place to hide. You both had landed in some sort of parking garage, a layer of water and old cars filling the space. The infected, which you had decided to call the Rat King, was quick to scramble to its feet, growling as it started to walk around, trying to find you two. 

“Are you alright?’’ Natasha whispered, her hand still on your shoulder as you both crouched down behind the car. 

You nodded, yet flinched slightly when you heard the Rat King growling. 

“What the hell is that thing?” you whispered back, and Natasha shrugged a little while glancing over the car, wanting to get the Rat King in her vision. 

“I have never seen anything like it before,” she told you. “It’s like it’s three infected grown into one…” Natasha trailed off, pulling you out of the hiding spot and out of the way, just seconds before the Rat King slammed itself into the car you had hid behind. 

Natasha started running, dragging you with her as she ran towards a wall, pushing you behind it. 

“Try and find a way out. I’ll distract it!” she told you, pulling out a gun as she started shooting at it. The Rat King seemed affected by the gun she used now, and it seemed stunned for a few seconds before it continued it’s way towards you two. 

You turned around, running towards the wall of the parking garage, hoping you could try and climb out that way. You didn’t find an opening, and you were about to climb up when you heard Natasha yell to turn around. You did, and the Rat King was charging straight at you, growling and extending one of it’s many hands. 

You ducked, running towards Natasha as she pushed you behind her, continuing to shoot at the Rat King. 

The Rat King stopped for a moment, a part of him ripping off, and a Stalker fell off. It ran towards a car, hiding behind it. The Rat King itself quickly regained it’s posture, charging back at you. You shuddered, standing behind Natasha closely as she kept shooting at the Rat King. 

You could have cried. You were absolutely terrified and it just kept going. It didn’t look like the Rat King had even suffered any amount of damage. 

“Keep looking!” Natasha yelled, and you took another look at the Rat King before turning to the other end of the parking garage, trying to see if you could find an opening there. You heard Natasha’s gun firing, and before you could even reach the wall, the stalker from before jumped you from the side, taking you down to the ground. 

You couldn’t move for a moment, the shock making panic run through your body. Once you regained your ability to think, you reached for you knife, stabbing the stalker in the head and killing it. 

You stood back up, using a car to climb on top of a truck, making you stand high enough to reach the ceiling. 

You found a vent, pushing some of the rubble away and finding a way to climb through. 

“Over here!” you yelled at Natasha, looking at her as she was still shooting. How many bullets did she even carry with her? Seeing Natasha trapped in a corner, you took out your own gun, shooting at the Rat King. The moment your first bullet collided with the Rat King, it turned around, facing you.

It started walking towards you now, and you froze as you kept shooting. It got awfully close until, suddenly, it stopped moving, falling to the ground. 

It groaned and screamed and moved for a few moments, until it finally settled, giving you and Natasha time to breath. You fell to your knees, moving into a sitting position to catch your breath. That thing must’ve been the scariest thing you had ever seen. 

Natasha quickly came towards you, climbing the truck and kneeling next to you. 

She laid her hand on your back, her other hand coming up to your cheek to turn you face towards her. “Are you okay, did it get you?” she asked you, and you shook you head as you closed your eyes. 

“What the fuck was that thing?” you asked her, and she shook her head as she replied. “I have no idea. I’ve never seen anything like it. It looked to be some mutated version of a Shambler.” 

You nodded, sighing deeply. 

“Maybe that was patient zero?...” you thought aloud, and Natasha seemed to think for a moment before looking at you. 

“Maybe, we are close to a hospital,” Natasha confirmed, and you nodded. 

“Let’s hope we never run into such a thing ever again,” you mentioned, and this time Natasha nodded. “I found some vents, maybe we can get out through there,” you said, pointing towards the opening.

Natasha stood up, walking towards the vent and glancing inside, shining a flashlight in it to get a better look. 

“It looks clear, and it’s probably the best shot we got at getting out of here,” Natasha confirmed, and you nodded as you stood up too, walking towards her. You looked around the parking garage one more time, confirming that there was no other way to get out.

When you turned around, Natasha motioned for you to get in first. You turned on your flashlight and crawled in, feeling even more squished than before. 

After crawling for a little while, you finally found daylight, pushing the vent at the outside away and crawling out. 

“Fucking hell,” you stated as you stretched, immediately recognising the three figures that were standing close by as Wolves. When Natasha crawled out as well, you pulled her up at her arm as fast as possible, ducking behind a crumbled stone wall. 

“This day just keeps getting better,” you mentioned as you reached for your gun once more, ready to take the Wolves out if they got to close. 

“Let’s try and get around them,” Natasha said as she laid her hand on your arm, pushing it down. “If they see us, we’ll just draw more of them,” she stated, and you nodded as you put your gun in your belt.

“What’s your plan?” you asked Natasha, and she thought for a moment before pointing towards a street. “We make it over there, follow the road down and we’ll get to a movie theatre. We can rest up there,” Natasha explained, and you looked at her sceptically. 

“Are you sure?” you asked her, and she nodded. 

“I’ve been staying there for a few days before I tried to make it further into the city,” Natasha explained, reaching for her silenced gun. 

You reached for yours too, and Natasha laid her hand on yours again. “Only for emergencies,” she stated, and you nodded as you loaded it. 

“I’m almost out anyway,” you told her, and Natasha checked her gun, mentioning that she was almost out as well.

“We’ll just try and not kill anybody then,” Natasha stated, as she checked the position of the Wolves before moving towards a cafe, climbing through an open window and disappearing behind it. 

You checked over your shoulder, seeing the Wolves still looking the other way, before you too moved towards the cafe, following Natasha’s movements. 

Moving through the cafe, staying low, Natasha led you to the back door, going through it and sneaking to the next building. You could hear the Wolves talking, but so far they seemed to be oblivious to the fact they were being watched. 

You and Natasha made it all the way to the end of the street, and you didn’t appear to have been followed when you looked back. 

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

After walking a few blocks, you two finally arrived at the movie theatre. You two got inside, barricading the door and plopping down on a couch, finally being able to catch your breath. 

You sat down on the couch, dropping your bag at your feet as you sat back, exhausted from the days happenings. Natasha on the other hand, was still standing, telling you she was gonna try and find if the electricity was still working. 

You acknowledged her words, laying back on the couch. 

After a few minutes, the lights turned on, and you knew Natasha must’ve found some generator. 

Natasha made her way back towards you, setting her own stuff by the couch in front of you. 

“We can stay here for the night,” Natasha stated, sitting down on her own couch. You nodded, to tired to respond. 

Natasha chuckled, seeing your exhausted state and deciding not to push you to talk anymore. 

“Get some sleep,” she simply said, and you hummed in acknowledgement as you let sleep overtake you. Natasha laid down on the couch as well, she herself following close behind.

part 2

Permanent tags: @marvelnatasha12346 @lesbionion @nova-kyle @darkstar225 @saraaahsstuff @marvelwomenarehot0 @screechcat @slut4johansson

[alotofpockets]

Fan interactions | Grace Clinton x Reader

Summary: You admire the way Grace interacts with her fans.

Woso masterlist | Words: 1k

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You were in the stands of Brisbane Road Stadium, wearing your favourite Spurs jersey with your girlfriend’s name on the back. Your attention on the midfielder wearing number eight. Football had never really been your thing, but you loved coming down to support her as often as you could. 

Spurs were ahead by 2-0, and still they were determined to expand their lead, you could see it on all the player’s their faces, and the way they were moving on the field. Grace had tried to teach you the rules of football, and what certain things meant. You swear you tried, but there was definitely a lot that didn’t stick. She never minded though, she would tell you over and over again if she had to. She just loved the effort you put into learning her sport, and the way you would come to support her even if you didn’t know half of what was happening.

It was the 85th minute when you saw Grace charging forwards with the ball, leaving defenders behind her one by one. You watched hopeful, as the determination to get the goal was present on her face. With one look up from outside the box, a term you remembered, she kicked the ball over the keeper, earning the team another goal. Your girl had scored and you cheered loudly, along with the rest of the Spurs fans in the stadium. The players all celebrated on the field together. When Grace got out of the huddle she found you in the crowd, and made a heart with her hands. Your heart melted at her adorable gesture, you blew her a kiss in response.

When the final whistle was blown, and the players did their round around the stadium signing things for some fans, and taking pictures with them, Grace found you again. “Hi baby, the girls want to say hi if you're up for it.” It had been a couple weeks since you had been able to make it to a match, since they didn't align with your work schedule, so you agreed and let Grace help you onto the field. She held your hand, and guided you into the tunnel. “I'm so glad you were able to make it today.” She said with a big smile on her face. You squeezed her hand, “It was so good seeing you out there again. You played so well, darling, and you scored a goal!” She pecked your cheek. “All for you, my love.”

In the hallway you hugged and greeted some of her teammates that passed, having small conversations with them before they headed into the locker room. It was nice seeing the girls again, they had become your friends too over time, but your busy work schedule had made it that even on regular, out of football, hangouts you hadn’t really been able to tag along.

“Y/n/n hi! I've missed you, so happy to see you here again. How are you doing? Has work been a bit less stressful?” The ever hyper Charlie was the first out of the locker room. “Hi Charlie, it's so good to see you too! Work has been getting a bit slower again, so I’ve finally been able to get some rest this week. So, I thought I’d come to support my favourite club again” You laugh, the only reason this club was your favourite, was it’s connection to a certain midfielder, and you both knew it. “How about you? Did you visit your family while you were with the Matildas?” The girl talked about her time with her family until Grace made it to your side again. Charlie hugged you goodbye, and yelled “Don't be a stranger!” Your way as she headed out of the building.

“I just need to do some interviews before we can head home, are you okay to stay to the side?” You pull her into your side and kiss the top of her head, “Yeah, you go do your thing, baby. I'll be fine.” She did a couple interviews in the hallway, before she held out her hand to you, and you made your way outside together.

A bunch of fans were lined up outside of the doors. She looked at you to check if you were okay with her interacting with them for a bit, you met her silent question with a smile and a nod. You watched as she had small conversations with the younger kids there, signed jerseys and notebooks, took pictures, and accepted small gifts. 

It warmed your heart seeing how many people looked up to her, and were grateful she had so many wonderful fans supporting her. You watch with a big smile on your face, as she went down the line of fans, making sure that she didn't miss a single one of them, and that she took the time for each one of them.

Once she had interacted with each and every fan waiting, the both of you headed to the car. “Hey love, I admire you so much. The way you took the time to interact with all of them was so incredible.” The most adorable blush creeps up to her cheeks, “I used to be that little girl waiting in line to meet my favourite players. Now I am lucky enough to be in the position where kids look up to me, and I want to give them those experiences that made me want to play football myself, you know?” She really was too good for this world. “Yeah, I know. I love you.” She smiled and pecked your lips softly, “I love you too.” With that she started the car to drive home, where you would spend the rest of the evening cuddled up on the couch.

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[mysteryanimator]

Here ye here ye, another breaking down processes post from yours truly!

For this animation, my plan was to make something I'm proud of AND also something to force me to take my time since with all previous animation works they were all rushed. I normally tend to speed through work as someone whose illustrations are painterly and I like to keep them rough. Also lets be totally honest my other plan for this animation was to animate Mizrox being so sickeningly sweet.

Fun fact, this animation was going to be longer. I had tried to plan out Olrox climbing on top of Mizrak during the kiss to lay on his chest. There was an attempt trying to rough that out and several ref videos It was scrapped because for the life of me I could not figure it out. Also hypothetically if I was going to keep it, I would cut to another angle (perhaps Mizrak's face close up) and then cut to another angle that would make it easier to see that climbing over the top. OR, consider Olrox already sleeping on his chest (im just rambling now but this is basically 'if you were able to do this again' section).

I wish I actually went through a more proper tie-down process because the jump from going from my rough straight to clean was rough (badum tsk) for the first few seconds. Defintely learnt my lesson ALSO Olrox is surprisingly really fun to draw from behind.

I challenged myself to see if I could get the idea of "bigger movements, less in-betweens, smaller/slower movements, more in-betweens." Though the effect of Olrox rubbing his face against his arm may be a little too jarring and I steered quite a bit away from my rough and self-reference video in hopes of making the face rubbing more apparent because I thought the character acting was too subtle and wanted a contrast to the other half of the scene. I reconfigured my CSP animation workspace for this too so it definitely made the process less tedious when cleaning up the animation.

(Which by the way I do record a lot of self-references depending on the section! For things I can't do/uncomfortable doing, I'll end up looking up videos. It's the easiest for me to catch subtle things in body language and also get a feels for the motion.)

Also I'm really satisfied with Olrox's anticipation before his smooch and the shoulder roll at the end even though technically the arc doesn't complete itself. MIZRAK THOUGH, when cleaning up I realised my rough wouldn't make sense because he's already looking at him so there's no need for a turn, and then the lack of a shoulder movement felt jarring, so all of that was done without any thought, wish I did think about it more though.

Now compositing was a monster in its own right and basically me jumping back and forth between turning on and off different layers, but here are all the new things I did; I duplicated and blurred the lines of the lineart, beveled the shadows so it was lighter on the inside, and added a rim of blur so the focus drew towards the couple. Also will absolutely admit that my fanboy ass went "... be crazy and try to mimic the show." The final did not go that route because I thought it was more important to emphasize the mood/atmosphere (Also Olrox is intentionally stylized differently because i wanted him to be softer here and I had to give him eye highlights for plot HELP). THOUGH to say I did not try to mimic the style, the #2 lighting test was my 'attempt' LOL 😭 I can never consume media normally.

Here are the lighting tests I went through. I definitely knew I wanted to go with a morning vibe, though I tested out a night ver for fun and did some edge lighting which led to mixing both version #2 and #3 to make #4.

Fun fact, I almost went with #2 due to fear of getting too heavy-handed with compositing and therefore losing the animation (even though I really liked #4 at the time). Thanks to a friend, they also shared the sentiment of liking #4, though pointed out it felt like midday and encouraged me to make the colours warmer and deepen the shadows. It is a really tough balance but I think for a softer scene like this, the more additional layers of comp worked out in the end.

The edge light was a last minute thing because someone told me to add sound and to have light stream in. Also at this point I deadass forgot that you know, Olrox, is a vampire, but hey rule of cute overrules. We can pretend its light not from the sun LOL

Also yay I got to show off my own style a tad, I love paintingggg. It's not as completely fully rendered coz I knew that it would get covered up but I still made sure it was quite clean regardless. I didn't realise how much of it would be covered up even though I did make sure they would fit/make sense for bg LOL

Now we are done!

If you've gotten this far thank you! There's gonna be less frequency of these animations due to the semester starting back up soon and I don't get many opportunities to actually 2D animate (despite it being an animation degree RAH). Also I remembering cringing and laughing a lot when I immediately started putting colour down going "oh i can see the end of the horizon, i have too much power as an artist, people will see this i cant let them see me be crazy"

[Here's some memes I drew over while my friend was reviewing my work]

[gyusimp]

modern Gyutaro x reader (fluff) who has like A TON of money and spends it on buying him things he always wanted/surprising him with a little too much presents.

°•Gyutaro x Rich reader Headcanons•°

I wrote this on a break at work and I just realized that you actually requested a Modern AU and I didn't remember 😭 pls forgive me, if you want other headcanons in a Modern AU please let me know and I'll fix my mistake but don't hate me lol

• You were the daughter of a great businessman in Japan, there were not many wealthy people at this time so everyone who knew who your father was treated you with immense respect, worthy of royalty. Your dad is a businessman looking to expand his income in several branches, not just one, so when he had the crazy idea of opening a tea house in the Yoshiwara Entertainment District everything was a success just like his other businesses.

• You had an entrepreneurial spirit just like him, so instead of settling for the allowances you received from him, you preferred to get to work and help him in each of his new businesses no matter what it was and thus generate your own profits at his side and his new success in Yoshiwara was no exception.

• You helped manage the house and organize the girls who worked there. Everything was very normal until after a few months you found out that there was a rumor of a creature that sneaked through the walls of brothels to steal pretty girls and turn them into its food. You didn't believe this children's story until one night you were face to face with that creepy creature with jutting bones, messy greenish hair, an imposing gaze and a merciless smile. The way you begged for your life before him seemed interesting and very different from what he was used to seeing so you awakened something inside him that made him let you live.

• Eventually you returned to see him again and again until with each of his visits the fear faded and you were able to slowly trust the other until you formed the strangest friendship you had ever had.

• Gyutaro was the Upper Moon 06, at first you didn't understand it but he explained how everything worked. You told him about you and he about him until the bond between the two of you grew closer and closer. Knowing more about Gyutaro and the shortcomings he had in his past made you feel the need to give him absolutely everything that he was deprived of in his human life, both material and emotional.

• His affectionate greetings towards you increased and made your and his heart race, every time he came you gave him things like expensive outfits to show him how handsome he was, pretty haoris to cover him from the cold and complete collections of books so that he might have a new hobby, even very expensive fragrances that he would never wear.

• All of this overwhelmed Gyutaro and made him think that you were a bit stupid wasting all your money like that. Not so much about wasting those things on a demon because someone like Douma would maybe use all those gifts, but about wasting your money on someone as insignificant and unpleasant as him. You noticed that he didn't reject your gifts at first but then he started to "forget" them after his visits and that made you feel a little bad. You asked him if he didn't like the color of that shirt or if it wasn't his size, if that perfume didn't match him or something like that and there he told you to stop wasting your money on him.

• It was new for him to receive so much attention from someone, positive attention and it confused him a lot but in the end he managed to explain everything to you and in the end you felt a little more relieved.

• You wanted to win over Gyutaro because you were starting to like him but you didn't want him to be misinterpreted as if you wanted to buy him, you were just someone who was very thoughtful with the people you loved and your pocketbook allowed you to give very unique gifts. But now you had to go a little slower so as not to overwhelm Gyutaro, so you would save the exaggerated and expensive gifts for later, although you couldn't help but give the boy a beautiful bouquet of flowers every time he came to see you and paint a noticeable blush all over  his face when you handed it to him.

[have-you-seen-my-sanity]

Never ever again

Moon boys x gn!reader

Marc and Jake got into shit once again and Steven had to experience what it felt like when they got drunk.

*C'mon buddy, stick it inside already. Can't be that hard!*

Steven stopped.

"Bruv, that sounded so dirty coming from you."

*Get the key into the lock...* Marc repeated, this time slower and more thoughtful.

Steven tried to unlock the door again, but everytime he had a perfect angle and pushed, the key slipped.

"Bloody- I can't believe I'm too drunk to unlock that stupid door."

*Dude, try it nice and easy, Stevo. Nice and easy.* Jake chimed in, his words came out a bit slurred.

Steven tried again and finally it worked!

He hoped you'd be asleep by now, he was already embarrassed enough by being the one fronting when they're drunk. Steven stepped inside, not knowing you were very well awake.

You were in the bathroom, getting ready for bed. As you left, Steven nearly got a heart attack seeing you walking out because he didn't realize the light was on.

"Oh fuck–" he jumped.

The sudden appearance of Steven made you suck in a breath and make an ungodly sound. "Shit! Holy fuck, Steven."

"Hiya." he made an apologetic smile. "Y're still awake?"

You let out a breath to calm down, smelling something strong coming from him. "Yeah. And you smell like you fell into alcohol." you pointed out, taking a sniff and making a face.

Steven sniffed on his arm, smelling the alcohol Marc and Jake consumed on their mission.

"It wasn't me, Marc and Jake are responsible."

You crossed your arms. "Oh. Typical. I know you could never chunk down gallons of alcohol like they can. You're a good boy." you smiled. "But seriously, you should sleep."

Steven couldn't help but smile proudly at how you called him a good boy. "Oh, I'm what now?" he somehow wanted to hear it again.

"You're drunk."

"Oh.." his face fell a bit, but he grinned lazily as he started walking past you, wanting to clean himself in the bathroom.

When Steven walked past you, your senses were overwhelmed by the smell of alcohol, causing you to cough out. "Oh god- oh my.." another cough came out and you immediately made your way to the nearest window to open it wide. You stood there, poking your head out to get as much fresh air as possible.

Steven soon came out of the bathroom, having stripped off his clothes and only wearing boxers now. "My head feels like I've been hit by a bloody train."

"What have you done in Cairo when Marc had his quality time with the scotch?" you asked, turning around to face him.

"Nothin', he was out the whole time, he just slept it off and took a pain killer the next day."

You nodded. "Alright first-time-drunk Steven, you should sleep."

Steven flopped down on the bed, holding his head. "Fuck my head's spinnin' I don't think I'll be able to sleep."

"Want me to get a bucket...just in case?"

Steven nodded. "That would be lovely, thanks."

You went to the bathroom, grabbing a washcloth and made it wet, then returned with the bucket and the cloth, putting it on his forehead. "Here, that should help you get sober quicker."

"You're the best." Steven smiled contendly.

You sat down on the edge of the bed. "Care to tell me what the fuck happened?"

Steven nodded. "Well, Marc was after this druglord or whatever," he flipped the cloth on his head to the colder side. "That guy invited him for a round of alcohol, Marc had to do it for cover. In the end Jake took over and killed everybody inside the room."

"Jake managed to kill people while being drunk?"

"Yeh."

"Alright Steven, you should get some sleep." you patted his shoulder.

Steven nodded, closing his eyes for a few seconds before he opened them again. "Oh shit, I think I'm going to–" he quickly sat up, getting out of the bed to make his way to the bathroom.

Making your way over, you gently knocked on the door. "You okay in there?"

Judging from the sounds you heard coming from the bathroom, Steven was not okay.

"Don't come in here unless you want to know what an atomic bomb smells like, luv."

As bad as you felt for Steven and as bad as you wanted to whoop Marc's and Jake's asses for putting Steven through this hell, you had to suppress a laughter threatening to come out of you at Steven's comment.

But a snort came out of you, and you wanted to punch yourself for it. "Sorry." you covered your mouth, trying not to laugh.

Steven went quiet inside the bathroom, you heard the toilet getting flushed. You turned to walk back to the bed.

"Oi!"

You stopped in your tracks.

"I swear I'll never drink again. Ever."

You snorted. "Tell that Marc and Jake."

Steven came out of the bathroom. "I'll never understand how they can drink such stuff. The hardest stuff I've ever drank was Wine."

He flopped down on the bed again, putting the cloth back on his head. "I feel like I'm close to dying."

You headed for the kitchen, grabbing some crackers, a bottle of water and something salty. "Then Marc and Jake have to be alcohol-immune zombies or something." you joked, setting the things on the bedside table. "Eat those, it'll help with your hangover tomorrow."

"Nah, I can't think of eating anything now. Just let me lay here and let nature reclaim me, would ya?" It was Marc now.

"Then tea?" you suggested.

Marc looked at you, making a face. "Ugh.." he scoffed. "Steven can have the tea."

"Coffee? Black no sugar, your usual?"

Marc removed the cloth from his head. "Yeah but no. I'll make it once I wake up." he mumbled, pulling up the covers.

"Hey where is Jake?" you asked.

Marc closed his eyes. "Jake's out cold."

You decided to let them rest, wanting to prepare the coffee. "I'll go make the coffee."

"Nuh-uh."

Looking back, you saw Marc still with his eyes closed, pointing a finger at you.

"What?"

"Don't you dare move a muscle." he mumbled.

"Huh?"

"Yeah you heard me. C'mere, plant ya ass down on this bed and sleep."

Marc can be a goofball when he's drunk and he knows it.

"But–"

"Ah-ah." he opened one eye, then the other, smiling at you. "Please?"

"Can't sleep alone? You?" you chuckled.

He shook his head, pouting at you.

You surrendered "Fine. But only until you fall asleep." you smiled.

He nodded, smiling.

You laid down next to him. Marc pulled you into his side, shifting into a comfortable position.

Marc fell asleep almost instantly, you followed shortly after.

Couple hours later, you stirred awake, feeling the bed empty. Sitting up, you spotted him sitting on the couch, eating the stuff you brought earlier for Steven.

"Getting sudden hunger attacks?" you rubbed your eyes.

"Yeah. I guess early hangover's kickin'." Steven was back.

You got up, making your way to Steven and sat down next to him. "How do you feel?"

"Much better." he smiled.

You smiled back. "You better stick to tea. It's better anyway."

"Yeah I will. Tea tastes much better anyway." He grinned.

You couldn't agree more.

[sickiehugs]

kunkida sick headcanons?😲😲

LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

SOMEONE ASKED THE QUESTION

emeto tw

alright SO

Right off the bat, he's still going to work. He's doing everything he'd written in his notebook the night prior, and nothing, not even a high fever, will get in his way.

I think he'd be a lot more irritable than usual if he had a bad headache, wanting to get things done as quickly as possible so he can just take a mf breather.

Either that or when Dazai is being Dazai and starts to annoy Kunikida as usual, instead of the usual angry response, he's met with a quiet "Dazai... Please, just... not today."

And OHHH how he'd be on missions. If he were to get nauseous, he wouldn't want to burden whoever he's with, and he definitely wouldn't want them to insist he goes home.

So let's say at the end of a fight, or even just walking to or from an important meeting, he may unexpectedly say "Hold on, I'll be right back," and make a dash for the nearest bathroom, forest, or garbage can where no one is near and just let it out. He'd come back and pretend nothing happened.

He might blame coughing on the dry air, or choking on water, but it ends up happening so often that no one is buying it anymore, especially when the coughs get really bad. The coughing could get so deep that it makes him nauseous all over again.

What ends up really setting people off is when his words start to not make a lot of sense. He might talk slower, or mix up his words, and sometimes not even notice.

Oh and his writing. Shaky, messy penmanship, reports are incredibly vague and not nearly as detailed or professional as usual, and he hasn't even touched his notebook since he arrived this morning. Or imagine he gets the time wrong if someone asks, because his vision is just so unfocused that he can't see the hands of his watch correctly.

Eventually someone like Dazai or Atsushi just insists on him going home, and that's just the last bit of confirmation he needs to prove he can just rest.

And once he's stumbled back into his apartment, he flops right onto his futon, not even bothering to set an alarm for tomorrow morning; just wiped out immediately before his head even hits the pillow. When he doesn't show up on time the next day, no one bugs him about it. He needs his rest.

BONUS:

He is usually a very light sleeper, able to be woken up by even the quietest things. But when he's sick, he's out like a light and there's no hope in waking him.

He canonically gets neck and shoulder cramps often, and I can imagine they get much worse with added body aches from a fever. Everything is all stiff and sore, it's so uncomfortable and he has to be very careful with how he moves or else it'll flare up and just make him so miserable (Oh IMAGINE Dazai giving him a shoulder massage. How good that would feel. All the tension just dissipates from his muscles, and he can finally relax his shoulders).

He probably looks really good with his hair down just sayinggg... Sometimes I imagine him without that fuck ass rat tail of a haircut and instead all his hair is long; what if he put it in a lil messy bun when he's at home......

[pixiemage]

My Fate Is In Your Hands - Entry 8

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[A/N: This is a story entirely guided by you guys, by the readers. Be sure to vote at the end of each entry! ALSO, if you'd like to be added the tag list, please let me know and I'll be sure to add you next time!]

~ ~ ~ ~ ~

➤ Watch Tango

Tango awakes slowly. It’s a fog, and a blur, and a static, and an ache. He registers the general soreness before he registers his surroundings, a weak and tired wince making his face tick for a fraction of a second.

Soft. Whatever he’s lying on, it’s soft. Bed, he thinks, as an abstract concept more than a word, even before his ears decide they want to work again. Bed, soft, comfortable. He’s sore, but he’s comfortable. And the air is warm. Sound reaches him a moment later, quiet and muffled from somewhere else. Distant murmuring voices, and the lowing of cattle, and a cicada making the air buzz.

One of his ears twitch.

…his head hurts.

Tango sucks down a sharp breath at the pulsing pressure he can feel behind his eyes, and he instantly regrets it, the dryness of his throat making him cough and making his head throb with pain. He winces and rolls onto his side, the blankets that he’s only now realizing are over him shifting with him as he moves. They pool in his lap as he pushes himself up into a sitting position. He tries to catch his breath and only struggles to do so the first two times before finally, finally, his lungs stop protesting against air.

He wheezes and takes a slower breath, licking his lips to wet them, and finally opens his eyes.

He doesn’t recognize the room he’s in. He’s lying on a bed in the center of a rustic-looking bedroom, wood walls and wooden floors and a homespun rug, a simple wooden dresser shoved up against one wall. There’s a chair nearby and a table beside the bed, all wooden, all looking like they might have been crafted by hand. There are potion bottles - some empty, some not - lined up on the table, and a hat straight out of a western movie is hanging on the back of the chair.

Sunlight is pouring in through a window, dust dancing through the rays, and there are other details in the room that Tango would be more interested in if he wasn’t so focused on the biggest questions beginning to spiral in his head.

Where is he? How did he even get here? The last thing he remembers…

“...to HASA, Tango Tek to HASA, do you read me? … Bdubs, you down there…?”

Feral creatures on the moon, disguised as something friendly but most certainly not. Sharp teeth, red eyes - an explosion–

“...is Tango Tek reaching out to Hermitheus, come in Hermitheus– … Doc? Do you copy? … Zedaph? Anyone?!”

Cold metal, stale oxygen, dark skies. The vast emptiness of space. And no time, running out of time. His own panicked breathing filtered back to his ears inside his helmet.

“...ship was damaged, but I’m making repairs. I’ve got an idea to get my bits off this rock, but I don’t know how long…”

(Desperate attempts to make it right.)

“...if I can time it right, I can still detonate, and we can deviate the moon’s trajectory…”

“...more damaged than I thought. The numbers Holsten is giving me aren’t great. I don’t know if I’ll even be able to take off if–”

Arguments with a snarky AI, and dread pooling in his veins. Fear. Panic.

“–got my ship up and running, but something’s up with the radar–”

“–Moon’s traveling at a higher velocity than expected. … Doc, I don’t know if my messages are reaching you, but our original ETD won’t cut it. You’ve gotta get everyone off the planet, pronto. If you don’t–”

He didn’t mean for it to go this way.

“–mayday, mayday! Tek to Hermitheus, Tango Tek to Hermitheus– … –going down– … –know if you made it out– … –let you down. I’m sorry, I should’ve–”

A knock at the door startles Tango from his thoughts and he snaps back to himself, suddenly very aware of his rapid breathing and the wheezing coming from his throat and the smoke and sulfur on his tongue. He’s wound tight as a spring, and when the bedroom door opens he scrambles back, nearly toppling over the far side of the bed in his rush to get away.

“Oh - gosh, I’m sorry!”

A startled voice cuts through his panic, a bright voice with an accent like Zedaph’s. There’s a man in the cracked doorway with blond hair and wide brown eyes, watching Tango with an apologetic look on his face.

“I’m so, so sorry,” the man says quickly, “I didn’t mean to–” He gestures to Tango, to the door, then jerks a thumb back over his shoulder, before awkwardly clutching at the edge of the door he’s half-hidden behind. “...are you alright?”

Tango blinks at him, his breathing slowly leveling out, not quite sure how to respond. Is he alright? It’s a complicated question. Silence hovers between them, and the man clears his throat.

“Er…do you speak common?” he asks, sounding awkward and unsure. “I mean Shelby said you might be an alien, which sounded a bit insane at the time, not gonna lie, but - well I did drag you out of a rocketship, so she might not be far off–” For the first time since waking up, Tango almost smiles. “But you look kind of human-ish, an’ the letters on your spacesuit look like ours, so…”

The stranger trails off, his face going a soft shade of pink, and Tango swallows past the dryness in his throat.

“Not an alien,” he mutters hoarsely, and the man at the door perks up. He opens the door just a little bit more, hiding behind it just a little bit less. Tango swallows again. “...blazeborn.” The man’s eyes light up in recognition. Tango clears his throat. Dry, so dry. “D’you have water?”

“Oh!” The man jumps slightly. “Right, o’ course! Sorry, I can–” He jerks a thumb back over his shoulder again. “Be right back.”

Then he’s gone, the door clicking shut behind him.

…you could leave, a voice at the back of Tango’s head whispers to him. He’s gone. You could escape.

It’s a tempting thought, in some ways. He’s in an unknown situation, so getting out might be smart. Tango doesn’t know where he is, or who that man is…though he can imagine how he got here. “Well I did drag you out of a rocketship,” the man had said…meaning his ship must be somewhere around here.

Probably in pieces, he reminds himself, grimacing at the memory of his ship spiraling through the atmosphere of some mystery planet. This mystery planet. But a ship in pieces is still worth something. Holsten is on there somewhere, and his communications line, for all that it had been faulty even before the crash. Tango doesn’t know how long he’s been on this planet, but the sooner he reaches out to the Hermitheus and her Hermits, the better.

(He ignores that traitorous voice in the back of his mind reminding him that his warning never reached Hermitcraft, that his friends and family never knew they had to leave sooner, that they’re probably already–)

No.

Tango sucks down a dry, shuddering breath. He can’t think about that now. He should leave.

…or he can wait for his host, he ponders, even as he swings his legs off the bed. The man seemed friendly enough. Maybe he could help Tango get back to his ship, and get some proper clothes, seeing as he’s still in the jumpsuit he normally wears beneath his spacesuit. (His spacesuit that he’s only now realizing is piled in the corner of the room, and he’s a bit impressed that his host managed to get him out of it, as complicated a thing as it is to put on in the first place.)

So he could wait, and hope that his host is kind. He could. Or he could leave and find his ship himself.

[A/N: I'm still trying desperately to move, so I'm not going to promise that I'll have the next part posted next week, but I'm keeping this story going no matter what! It's too fun and I love having something easy to write and work on when I need it! Also I'm a sucker for the crossover man, it's just too good.]

[Tag List] @firefly124 @mellioops @beaversuenightly @aris-has-a-paracosm @sincerely-nines @changeling-ash @therain-lover

Let me know if you'd like to be added!

[tired-teacher-blog]

Characters : Tattoo artist Aizawa/ Florist fem reader

Featuring : Eri/ Hizashi Yamada/ Nemuri Kayama/ Oboro Shirakumo/ Emi Fukukado

Warnings and Genre : Fluff/ Romance/ Smut and Angst in future chapters/ Multi Chaptered Story

Summary : In a desperate attempt to get closer to the tattoo artist dominating every speck of your brain, you decide to pay him a visit one evening as a client seeking his service. This encounter will prove to be the beginning of something much bigger between you two, but will this new found passion be enough to stand against the difficulties your future holds?

Notes : Loosely inspired by this/ Art below is by the wonderful @/ael-draw who gifted me this gorgeous piece.

Masterlist|Second Masterlist|Third Masterlist

Chapter Count : Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3 • Part 4 • Part 5 • Part 6 • Part 7 • Part 8 • Part 9 • Part 10 • Part 11

_ "Eri says hi, we're on our way to school now."

You hold the phone closer to your ear, smiling fondly as he speaks, and picturing them stroll their way there hand in hand while he carries her cute little school bag over his shoulder.

_ "Tell her I miss her." you reply immediately with warmth filling up your heart.

_ "Just her? What about her father?" and you can feel the smirk lacing his words.

_ "Of course I miss you Shouta, very much." you breathe out longingly, wishing you could see him right at this instance.

_ "Me too beautiful, I'll see you tonight." and with that, you both say your goodbyes and hang up your phones.

Hours later, and his voice still plays in your brain like a sweet melody, and that same wide smile still refuses to leave you, only a little bit more until you see him.

Time couldn't possibly go any slower when you're awaiting for the moment to be with him, and you rarely ever do on weekdays due to your conflicting schedules, but fortunately you were able to work something out for today and decided to have dinner together in the studio between his appointments, it's not much, but it's more than you can ask for..

_ "Hello." a delicate voice interrupts your thoughts, and your head immediately snaps towards its source.

_ "Hello ma'am, welcome." oh, she's beautiful.

The clicking of her expensive beige heels pierces the calm and resonates across the walls as she steps inside while uttering amusedly, "what a nice atmosphere you have here."

_ "Thank you ma'am, you are more than welcome to take a look around." you have never seen her before, so perhaps she's here for a visit?

She's truly gorgeous, and elegant too, and you're now wondering what could her story be.

_ "So I want to buy a bouquet but I'm not sure exactly what to get, everything here looks gorgeous." she's taking a tour of the shop while speaking, her eyes study the blooms carefully before shifting her gaze your way.

_ "I'm glad you like what you see," you offer her a genuine smile, "I can help you choose, you see each flower and each rose carries a different meaning, so if you have a message that's hard to convey, you can pick a flower that helps with that."

She blinks a few times while hearing you speak before breaking into laughter, "but isn't that a bit too much to ask of a measly plant?"

Your body tenses up as you did not expect to hear such words from someone who has willingly walked into your shop, but maybe she didn't mean to offend you.

_ "Not at all ma'am, if the person receiving the bouquet is someone who likes flowers, then your message wilI surely come across." your smile is now forced, and your palms are starting to sweat as you strive to remain collected.

_ "I never thought they liked them but maybe I was wrong," her eyes are casting a darkness that you cannot for the life of you decipher, "well then, which one says I'm sorry?" her attention is back to the colorful roses.

_ "White roses or white tulips are the perfect ones for that, they express sincere apologies and seeking forgiveness, offering them to someone signifies the desire to start anew." you gesture towards the flowers you're describing and watch as she approaches them slowly.

_ "Alright then, I'll have ten of each."

_ "Of course ma'am." you quickly run to the blossoms and start cutting them carefully, counting in your head so you wouldn't miscalculate the lady's order.

_ "So how long have you been running this business?"

Her question catch you off guard, and you almost miscount the white blooms in front of you, "oh, I've been here for almost a year," you turn her way for a second as you reply, before returning to the work at hand.

You walk back to your counter with twenty delicate whites in your arms, smiling again at the lady before starting to carefully organize them in a bouquet.

_ "What about you ma'am? Are you here visiting someone? Perhaps the lucky person who will receive these?" you try to soften the mood as you ask.

_ "Yeah, that's why I'm here, I need to clear things up with someone." her voice is monotone and for some reason it's making you a little uncomfortable.

_ "I'm sure everything will go well ma'am, this bouquet will be an ideal ice breaker." even with your unexplained uneasiness, you still give her a warm smile.

_ "You think so? You must have a lot of faith in your flowers then." she scoffs with a role of her eyes that you did not need to witness.

_ "Uhm well.. I do, and I hope I'm right." you have never felt this anxious with a customer before, but you have to remain calm and cheerful regardless.

_ "What a cute tattoo." she exclaims with a nod of her head.

_ "Oh, thank you, yeah it's really dear to me." somehow, for some reason, you've always found solace in your tattoo, and you're almost certain it's the thought of him that brings you comfort rather than the tattoo itself, in any case, it's working yet again.

The woman remains silent after that, and you can almost feel her piercing stare digging holes in your whole body.

_ "Here you go ma'am, it's wrapped and ready, I hope you like it." you carefully pick up the bouquet, mindful of the graceful blooms as you hand them to the woman in front of you.

_ "Thank you." she holds it in one arm and hands you her credit card with the other.

It's almost over, she's almost out of your shop and you're almost breathing easily again.

_ "Thank you for your purchase ma'am and have a nice day." you bow your head slightly while returning her card.

The annoyingly loud click of her heels is finally heading away as she walks towards the door, and you allow yourself to heave a sigh of relief.

_ "Oh by the way, say hi to Shouta for me." and that irked expression she had on since earlier, is now replaced with an amused one as she closes the door after herself.

… What?

Shouta.. Shouta.. , she called him Shouta, not Aizawa like most people do, why? Who is she exactly? How does she know him? Was her coming to your shop intentional?

You feel like a fool, she was obviously mocking you until the very end, and for some reason you know that it isn't over.

Shouta.. who is she to you? Is she a friend? A family member? A client?

Countless questions battle within your brain as you freeze in place for God knows how long..

To be continued..

[witchie-writings]

Okay last one I PROMISE!! Megatron’s human pet and what he gets like when he finds out they’ve escaped? How do you think the reader feels knowing he’s probably looking for them? Does megatron get just angry or does he enjoy the hunt because he knows he’ll find them rather quickly? (Bonus if it takes longer than expected and puts mega in ANGRY PANIC MODE lmao)

Had to think about this one a little bit! Not proof-read.

Decided I'll just always put a trigger warning for Bayverse!Megatron. He's just a chaotic man

Should Bayverse!Megatron's pet escape, Megatron would be absolutely outraged and Starscream would end up taking the brunt of his carnage, placing all of the blame onto the second in-command even though it was the warlord’s fault for being too complacent with the human!reader. Control is Bayverse!Megatron’s main schtick - having complete authority and monitoring every inch of one’s daily life or the inner workings of a society gives the tyrant an exhilarating rush of power, so when that is taken away from him or one rebels against the fate that Megatron had lined out for them (i.e., his pet and how they were supposed to be forever a source of cruel entertainment for the cause), the warlord does not take that lightly in the slightest. How DARE they attempt to re-carve out their own destiny? To forge another life away from his grasp, and think they could wipe clean the blood and sin from their tainted hands? Megatron would be sent into a blinding frenzy that no one could reign him in from; he would find no thrill in this hunt, not when it wasn’t on his own terms. All that he could remotely feel is a crushing fury that sends his spark into overdrive, a rushing pulse that the adrenaline rides into his processor and sends him on a rampage to find his lost pet. 

As the human!reader escapes, stars above, I would not blame them for terror that would strangle their breath and heart. It takes a considerable amount of willpower to ponder the thought of escaping from the tyrannical mad man, but to put that plan into execution and it actually succeeding is an entirely other realm. They would manage to utilize their significantly smaller body size to their advantage; clinging to the shadows as if they were a frail child seeking the comfort of a warm embrace, the human would weave and wove through whatever crevice they could squeeze into, dodging the glaring gazes of dozens if not hundreds of wandering Decepticons before they finally got to taste the fruitful taste of their freedom. It was sweet, delicate on their soul. The human!reader could almost drown in it… but when the high calms to a slower pace, and the reality sets in, the human begins to realize that they have forever sealed their fate at being hunted till their dying breath. 

The best course of action is to quickly seek out those that could provide ample protection against the scourge that trampled all that stood in his way. Thankfully, the Autobots were able to provide such protection, along with their human allies at N.E.S.T. To hear of the human!reader’s story definitely earned them sympathy from all of them and a building urge to protect this lost light, especially from Optimus Prime. Optimus knew of his old friend’s ways and how corrupted Megatron had become; once he was an honorable guard of Cybertron, now fallen to dark desires and false promises, turning him into a violent oppressor that only sought to please his own wishes. He would immediately take the human!reader under his wing to shelter them from the chaotic storm that thundered in the distance, swearing a promise under his breath that he would be their protector from the cybertronian that had been lost to his delusions. 

But let’s go back to Megatron, shall we? The longer he draws on his hunt for his prized pet, the more insane and radical he’ll become. If you thought him without his pet was brutal as is, imagine when he had acquired a pet that kept him entertained, only to grow too comfortable and for his pet to abuse this leverage and rebel. Definitely a blow to his swollen pride and made him look like a fool. This time he won’t be so kind. 

Despite the ceaseless amounts of scorching rage that flooded his system, Megatron was no fool. If anything, the Decepticons grew to realize how terrifyingly intelligent he truly was, all hidden by his barbaric facade that was well-kept before, but had been haphazardly discarded. Yeah, any attempts at manipulation or blackmailing wasn’t going to work on him in his, admittedly, slightly panicked state. Before? Megatron played the fool, but now, he could care less about such appearances, not when a treasure was flailing around out in the wild thinking life was theirs to own.

No stone is left unturned when Megatron goes on the prowl, and I mean it. Every corner of the Earth he sinks his daggered denta into; villages, towns, remote areas, cities, forests, deserts, jungles, any place you could imagine he’ll shred it apart with his bare digits, all in search of his pet. The Decepticons take part in the hunt as well, if only to avoid the wrath of their feral leader and dodge the prospect of being a doll to be torn apart by Megatron later for their disobedience. 

Now, I’ll leave it up to you to imagine if Megatron ends up finding the human!reader or not. Who knows, maybe the Autobots keep them on the move once they discover Megatron’s relentless pursuit of them, or the tyrannical ruler finds them before the Autobots have a chance to register it all. But I will leave this with you: there WILL be casualties between the Autobots and Megatron, and not everyone will survive that particularly bloody conflict. Maybe not even Optimus… or Megatron for that matter. But it goes to show how no one, not even the human!reader, can escape their destined fate for long. Not when they have drawn the gaze of the leader of the Decepticons.

[sagescented]

Lily's adjusting so well to being here already. She had a lot of issues with the stairs yesterday but is taking them like a champ today. She's rolling over and showing me her belly a lot, and wagging her tail now instead of keeping it mostly tucked or not wagging it. And she does the cutest full-bodied wiggle now when she gets back up on the deck and wants to play after using the bathroom outside.

She definitely has serious food aggression issues, though. The way she attacks her food, however, we're now certain that it's because she was being massively underfed; her foster yesterday said they were only feeding her 1 cup in the morning, and then 1 cup at night, and sometimes a snack at noon. But we expect she'll at least be between 70 and 100 pounds minimum- which means she should be getting double what she was getting a day (around 4 to 5 cups instead).

We're really glad we splurged the $40 on one of those slow-feeder bowls when we saw them at PetSense during our shopping spree Saturday. Yesterday we fed her without it and she ate so fast she wound up vomiting twice. Today I've been feeding her with the slow-feeder bowl and it's forced her to go so much slower, and she hasn't had any issues. She does get annoyed with it, though, because she wants to hoover down her food so bad, but it doesn't let her, and you can just tell that it frustrates her. But we already know it'll be so much better for her in the end.

We're still going to physically work with her about the aggressiveness whenever she shows it. But we think she'll naturally calm down quite a lot once she realizes there's enough food; she's getting enough, she won't have to wait, and she won't always be hungry now. Especially once she finally starts to put some proper weight on her bones. Because at the moment you can feel her spine and ribs far too easily through her fur.

Right now she's in kennel jail at the moment because I gave her peanut butter in her Kong, and one of the Cats walked past and she went after them. So I took her Kong away and kenneled her as punishment. I'll bring her back out in about 20 minutes and try the Kong again, and see how it goes the second time. We may not be able to do treat toys until we've worked the general food aggressiveness out, however.

ETA: Second Peanut Butter + Kong attempt is going much more smoothly. Instead of launching after the Cat that walked past, she only growled. And that was easy to correct without having to re-kennel her. Lord, the puppy eyes I got for correcting her, though 😭 Child could make a heart melt, she's so precious. I. Must. Stay. Strong. Though!

ETA 2: I did get nipped when refilling her Slow-Feeder bowl; she was sniffing around like she wanted more food, so I went to give her some (we're in agreement of going a bit overboard right now until the weight's back on- especially when she's actively hungry). But I wanted to try out the sit-and-wait with her, where she sits near the bowl as I fill it and waits until I say "Ok" to eat- which I think will help a little bit with her food aggression ... She did mostly ok with it, actually- up until she decided she'd had enough of the whole "waiting" thing and lunged for the bowl 🤣 I went to put my hand in to pull her away to put her back in the sit position a bit further away from the bowl, and got a very slight nip from her in retaliation. So she will bite a bit in that state (good to know), but she doesn't do it even remotely hard. More like mouthing, just with puppy teeth.

Her first appointment with our Vet is Wednesday morning. She'll be getting her final Parvo / Distemper vaccine, her Rabies vaccine, and we're having the Vet check her for a UTI given the way she's been peeing since we got her (she'll go a little bit in a lot of places).

I also want them to do a general exam to make sure she's good- and we want to talk to them about whether or not we should put her on a Joint compound early to help prevent some of the issues that Great Pyrenees are prone to, since they're prone to a LOT of joint and spine issues. If there's any tests we can do to see if it's likely that she'll wind up with those issues, we may opt into doing those, as well. So that's also potentially on the roster.

She's settling in so well, though. I'm so happy! I can't wait to see how she reacts to my Husband getting home from work today; I can't help but wonder what their routine will be, and if it'll be anything like what his and Whisper's was.

[putschki1969]

2024/10/10 Blog post by Wakana おしゃべりガーデン第14回目‼️〜みんなの健康法がスゴイ！寒暖差についていけていない今日この頃〜

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Talk Garden Vol.14‼️~Everyone's Health Regimens Are Amazing! I Can't Handle The Recent Temperature Changes~

The temperatures in Tokyo suddenly dropped below 20℃ so I thought it was finally going to get cooler…but it was only for a moment. It seems to be going back up to warm temperatures around 25℃ 😅A temperature difference of about 10℃ between different days is rough in many ways😵‍💫I'm not sure what to wear *laughs*🧥

Hello, this is Wakana (0￣▽￣0)／

How is autumn approaching where you live? I feel that the plants in my house are growing a little slower, maybe because they've been freed from the heat of just a few weeks ago. It's a little sad, but some of them seem to be preparing for hibernation so I need to be more careful when watching over them🤔Watering them will become quite tricky from now on 😇I'll do my best!

Well! Today, I Vol.14 of my podcast "Wakana's Talk Garden" has been uploaded! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／ I received many submission about "Everyone's Rules of Healthy Living"! It made me realise how well you all take care of your health😳You didn't only talk about different diets, you also mentioned exercising, regular health checks, trying new things to deal with daily physical problems…I was really impressed by everyone's dedication to a healthy lifestyle!! 😭✨I got the impression that a lot of people ride bikes😊🚴In terms of food, many people try to prioritise vegetables🍅🍆🥒🥕🥦Basic health rules seem to be ingrained in all of you🤔That's amazing…✨

I'm trying my best too, but the fatigue of summer and the dryness of the sudden cold have made my voice a little nasal😓It may be hard to listen to but if you have some spare time, feel free to check out the latest episode. I forgot to mention it in the podcast but I wanted to introduce my recent favourite foam roller. I am using it every morning and evening for stretching 😉It's a small foam roller for myofascial release. Look at the cute colour and size. It's tiny compared to a regular-sized foam roller. It's light and easy to carry! It's small, but it can release myofascia just as well as a regular-sized one!

I've always loved this stretch ball, too. It's a great product that can be used on trigger points. (Trigger points are "hyperalgesic areas, which are where the pain-sensing sensors in the body have malfunctioned, causing constant pain.") Personally, I use it in areas that don't usually hurt but are prone to stiffness. The shoulder blades, collarbones, and especially glutes! My glutes are surprisingly stiff! (By the way, if you want to work on large muscles like your glutes or thighs, I recommend using a foam roller with a large surface area rather than a small ball 😊 The ball is best for small focus areas) I keep these items near my bed so I can use them before bedtime at night, I also keep them in my stretch corner or on the sofa *laughs* I use them whenever I notice stiffness. It's quite painful though… 😇

Thank you to everyone who sent in submissions this month! ! As for the little present for those whose message was read, please expect it to arrive in about a month. I'm sorry to keep you waiting but please be patient😅💦

So! For next month's talk theme I chose: "Everyone's Ideal Autumn Trip". I talked a little bit about it in the episode but last month I went on a trip to Nikko with my mother 🧳I was very excited to be able to visit the nostalgic Nikko Toshogu Shrine 😍It was my first trip in a while and I felt very refreshed. That's why I picked this travel topic for the next episode ♪

Please tell me about the places you want to go or have been to, and the kind of trips you want to take! ! ＼(^o^)／I will of course share photos and a travel diary of my trip to Nikko on my blog soon✏️

And last but not least! I also wanted to talk about the happy news that were announced last week! Next year, on January 15, 2025, we will hold a Kalafina live concert. After seven years, we have decided to sing together again as a trio. 17 years after our debut! We have been encouraged by the feelings of everyone who has always supported us throughout the years. For this reason, we want to stand with gratitude and pride on stage to convey our feelings to you that day. The concert is titled "Kalafina Anniversary LIVE 2025".

We look forward to seeing you at Tokyo Garden Theater next year. Please come and see us!!! ＼＼\٩( 'ω' )و //／／[Note: Unfortunately, Wakana doesn't really share anything specific about the upcoming live. She's bubbly as always when she makes the announcement but no further infos or thoughts are revealed]

All right, that's all for today! Until next time~☆( '▽')/

＊＊＊Wakana＊＊＊

Wakana’s Talk Garden #14

❗This is Fan Club EXCLUSIVE content❗ ❗PERSONAL USE ONLY❗ ❗Do NOT SHARE on other sites❗ ❗Join her FAN CLUB! Check out my detailed TUTORIAL ❗

Episode #14 »»—— CLICK ME 🎁 CLICK ME ——«« ・Everyone’s Rules of Healthy Living ・Anything you’d like to ask Wakana/Anything you’d like Wakana to talk about

For next month’s episode which is scheduled to air on November 10th, the following two topics have been chosen: ・Everyone's Ideal Autumn Trip ・Anything you’d like to ask Wakana/Anything you’d like Wakana to talk about

The submission deadline is 10/31.

[girlfromthecrypt]

I finally got to read the update!! Don't mind me rambling a bit about everything I loved about it...

I really enjoyed the beginning of this chapter.  Being playful with Basil in the van is super cute. It was interesting to see Reem and Basil not getting along a little bit, it makes me intrigued about if there will be any cracks in our little friend group's foundation that might start to show. And if so what that might mean when things start going bad.

Also, Anita is adorable!! It had me giggling when she called everyone attractive--I loved getting to tease her about it afterwards. I chose to room with her and the siblings--though the thought of Basil sleeping alone makes me nervous for the future...

Definitely Looking at Anita's comment about how your sanity starts slipping when you go without sleep. I'm SO eager to reach the horror. Though the slightly slower, cheerful beginning is so great. I love getting to know everyone and seeing them happy and bonding, knowing that there's horror on the horizon...

Javier talking about his mom marrying his dad straight up made me snort laugh. I work with kids and they truly do say the most out of pocket things. It's very true to life. And ooooh, Basil and Gabriel just...staring at the woods got me so hyped. Reading that scene gave me a proper thrill, that little 'heart-pounding-faster' feeling that makes me love horror so so much.

Hell yes at getting to tell the kids a scary story!! I remember being a kid and hearing classics like Don't Turn on the Light and being scared out of my socks. It's sooo fun to be able to play at passing that on to a whole new generation!! I'm 100% in to romance Basil, but this update makes me want to do a run where I romance Anita. She's so so cute. And the siblings both are great in their own ways... I'm sensing that I'll end up doing runs for each of the ROs, you've made such fun and sweet characters!

Aaah that ending!!!! Genuinely terrifying, and made me so anxious about the kids!! I KNOW my MC is going to be hard-pressed to keep them all safe. I can't wait to see what comes next!! I love how you write characters, they're all so likable and distinct!! This was such a good update, it makes me really eager for more.

HI (omg it's that cool person) HIIII <3

Thank you so much for this. I'll have you know I reread this ask like three times and I'm probably gonna read it all over again tomorrow bc it gives me life. I can't express how happy I am that you cared to write such a long ask bc of my IF if all things. Thank you, it made my day.

Basil and Anita's on-the-road scenes in the van were my favorite to write!! And yes, there's certainly a bit of tension in the group. MCs with high sociability or perception will be able to pick up on this, also on George's fondness for a certain colleague--- but don't worry, no one's at each other's throats. Yet.

And yay, some Anita appreciation!! Cut her some slack, she's not used to being around hot people and between a possibly cute MC and the FUCKING MALAKS of all people... yeah. It's not easy for her.

Ok so you know that you can also sleep in the van with Basil if your relationship stat/his approval of you is strong enough? I hope that was clear from the dialogue options and you just chose the cabin despite of it, bc if not, I might have to rewrite the choice. Furthermore, while I can see why you'd be worried for him, I'd be more concerned for an MC who chooses to sleep alone ;) [yes, this is me hinting at a future horror scenario possibly unique to that route].

Ah yes, Javier, my son <3 lol. Nahhh I don't favor any of the campers. Though, if I had to pick which one I liked to write the most, it'd probably be him.

Now I feel bad haha. Ok but srsly, kids can be VERY outspoken, and Javier especially has noooo social filter. You might notice that some of the campers' traits specifically correspond to some of the ROs' characteristics... Looking at Gabriel and Basil here.

Both campfire stories are also really close to my own heart, so I jumped at the chance to include them. As for the ROs, I do hope you'll do a run for each of them! I'm trying quite hard to make it difficult to choose between them ;)

I love that the ending hit the way it was supposed to. If you want to know what's up next, I have one word for you: confusion. Lots of confusion.

See, I need to give this story a slow, slice-of-life start, bc purely from a narrative standpoint, it wouldn't make sense for the horror to come out guns blazing. That's why the MC will at first be the only one to experience the horrors and for the horrors to (seemingly) originate from one of the kids, bc if it was more dramatic and the threat was to come from an exterior source, everyone would just pack up and flee and then the story would be over. That's what I figure.

Anyhow, I'm so glad I still got you hooked with this project. Thanks so much for this super long message.