#this is a shocking discovery to me. now all I need to do is find a way to reverse the effects that crappy writing teacher had on me

[hana-bobo-finch]

hrmm………………..perhaps my crushing fear of putting actual effort and emotion into my writing—and to a lesser extent my art—stems from the fact that the last time I ever did so, I was forced to read it all out in front of a bunch of people despite making it abundantly clear I didn’t want to and was incredibly anxious at the prospect, and as a result I was so embarrassed and scared afterwards that I completely stopped being genuine in my work……………hrm

[chososdiscordkitten]

Synopsis: calling the jjk men good boy's for the first time ^-^

Includes: 𝐂𝐡𝐨𝐬𝐨, 𝐇𝐢𝐫𝐨𝐦𝐢, 𝐍𝐚𝐨𝐲𝐚, 𝐆𝐨𝐣𝐨, 𝐍𝐚𝐧𝐚𝐦𝐢, 𝐓𝐨𝐣𝐢, 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐈𝐧𝐨 >_< Content: GN!Reader, no explicit smut- mostly just soft stuffff, just one dick jump I think..? jjk men being simpppps

MDNI

Choso Kamo

The discovery that Choso liked praise was no surprise. If he had a tail, it would wag whenever you praised him; we know this. 

But finding out he liked this kind of praise- that’s what shocked you. 

It came out of your mouth so quickly. As though you had been calling Choso that more than you called him by his name. 

He was making dinner- pattering around the kitchen with your eyes following his every move. You found it endearing how he insisted he would cook, “All you need to do is sit pretty and wait.” he would demand. 

No objections coming from you, knowing if Choso didn’t cook- you would be eating takeout instead. 

And when he offered you a spoonful to see how it was tasting, you closed your eyes with a pleased hum. 

“Now there’s my good boy.” 

You swore it was instinct- like you couldn’t filter the words that left your lips. 

And as though time stood still- you opened your eyes with pinched brows, and your lips pulled to the side. 

The little glimmer that shined in his eyes was one you only see in wonderfilled children when they see a candy store. 

His cheeks blushed with a little smile forming at the corner of his lips, had his heart beat any faster in his chest you would have heard it. 

“I’m a..?” he whispered, looking at you and wanting to hear you repeat it. 

You got the hint he liked it from the moment you opened your eyes. Blinking innocently as his hand held the spoon tightly. “A good boy.” you smiled, trying to keep the embarrassed blush heating your cheeks at bay. 

“My good boy.” you reiterated, watching his cheeks become deeper pink.

Choso nodded- as though this was some standard compliment that didn’t make the appendage between his legs jump at the name. 

‘A good boy.’ he mouthed with a giddy smile as he continued making dinner. 

For sure this only drove him to keep showing his affection with acts of service- only to hear your lips call him by that little name. 

And you were happy to call him that if it meant he would keep looking at you with the same love drunk eyes. 

After that, he would do a favor to you- not expecting anything in return except the new found pet name he wanted to hear you say. 

So when he would bring you something you had asked for—the TV remote, a charger, or a snack on his way home—his heart would pound just waiting for the little name. 

His head would rest on your chest with your hands rubbing small circles on his back and the other playing with his hair. Intent eyes watching the film you had put on- as though you were able to feel the stiffness of his shoulders. Waiting for the name. 

You placed a kiss on his forehead, “My good boy.” you hummed against his skin- feeling him ease into your grasp with a soft exhale. 

Hiromi Higuruma

You were sitting in the apartment office, scanning documents with hazy eyes till your mouth suddenly felt very- very dry.

But then you remembered you had a perfectly able boyfriend sitting on the living room couches waiting for you to finish working. 

You picked up your phone- swiping through the useless apps and clicking on Hiromi’s contact- hearing his ringtone through the closed door before hearing the dial click. 

Taking on a slightly stern tone, “I’m only a few feet away from you-” he started, only for you to sigh dramatically. 

“I don’t think i've ever been so thirsty in my wholllleee life.” you sighed, pressing your forehead onto the desk and hearing a little chuckle rumble through the speaker. 

You could hear the smile in his words, “That so?” almost sarcastically. 

Humming a lazy ‘Mhm’ “How I wish I had a tall, strong, handsome boyfriend to bring me a glass of water wiiiittthhhh three- no. Four ice cubes.” You exhaled dramatically. 

Hearing another little chuckle, “If only.” he muttered, playing coy to your specific demand. 

You gave a frustrated exhale- “Hiromi, be a good boy and bring me a glass of water.” this time more demanding, no longer having the patience for his game of playing coy.

You furrowed your eyebrows- unable to comprehend just how tired you had to be to say that to him. The silence heard from the phone made your stomach fall. 

Hanging up the phone with a small curse. Wondering if you had crossed a line that hadn’t been drawn by either of you. 

You sat up and started working again- far too embarrassed to go out for your own glass of water and settling on the fact Higuruma wouldn’t bring you one. 

That was till you heard looming footsteps behind the door of the office, hearing the door knob jiggle and widening your eyes at the hundreds of scenarios that raced in your mind. 

There Hiromi stepped- casual as ever with a glass of water in his hand. Unbothered, and cool as a cucumber as he placed the glass on the desk with a little kiss on your forehead. 

This made you think the call was cut out at the perfect moment. 

You muttered a small ‘Thank you.’ still shy from the tired, unfiltered words that left your lips. Hiromi started walking out, his back facing you as he halted his steps at the door frame. 

“Honey?” he asked, not even bothering to turn around. “Did you call me a good boy?” Your heart plummeted to your stomach from the question as your cheeks started warming. 

You parted your lips to speak, watching his neck turn and peer back at you. “Depends..?” you squint your eyes, hearing a little laugh leave his lips. 

Irking his head, almost to urge you to finish. “On whether you liked it or not...?” you whispered, looking at his expression soften. 

His nose crinkled in the slightest- “I think I did.” he whispered back with a little crinkle formed on his nose. A nod from your warmed face in return, mindlessly accepting his confirmation and mouthing a soundless ‘ok.’ 

Turning around and taking a step out of the office and closing the door behind him. Knowing he would have to hear it a few more times to be sure he liked it or not. 

Naoya Zenin

Rare were the times when the want to call Naoya a good boy arose. 

He could be such a cunt sometimes- so the urge never really rumbled in your mind. 

But when he would be sweet- when his hands held a gentle touch when cleaning a scrape you got on your knee. Or when he would gently clasp your necklace on for you- knowing you wouldn’t be able to see. 

He would do those sweet things with a furrowed brow and a pouty lip- sure. But his hands showed his true feelings. How gentle they could be at times- that’s when the pet name would threaten to leave your lips. 

But when you would hold his head in your hands, looking at him like an idiot in love- “My good boy.” you murmered, watching a light grimace form on his face at the name.

“Good boy?” he asked, almost disgusted. 

You nodded your head- so sure that Naoya was as you said. “You’ve never called me that.” 

He was so used to the strange pet names you would call him just to get a rise out of him- and he was sure this one was no different. 

You shrugged, “You’re hardly ever a good boy. But when you are- I should tell you, shouldn’t I?” You murmured, being able to feel the warmth on his cheeks fill your palms- even if his expression said otherwise. 

“M’not a dog.” he muttered. 

“If you were- I would have trained you to be a good boy all the time by now.” 

That’s when Naoya pulled his face from your hands and looked away from you. Not wanting to continue the conversation, knowing his cheeks must be flushed by now. 

And the last thing he wanted was you on a power trip from making him blush. Especially from being called a good boy.

But when you started calling him that—Pavloving himself into thinking the little endorphins that would simmer in his brain would only happen if you called him that. And you only called him that when he was kind.

Naoya warmed to the name slowly- barely even grimacing at the callousness you’d say it with whenever he would be sweet. 

Unknowingly, he was being trained to be nice and polite with one ‘good boy’ at a time. 

Satoru Gojo

The times you would praise Gojo were always met with an, “I know.” smug and cocky in his actions to brush off your praise as just compliments. 

But the first time you ever spoke those words to him- a praise he had never heard before now, and eager to hear it again. 

Satoru had made a stupid comment about how you didn’t show your affections enough- “I’m deprived of kisses.” he murmured, complaining to you as though you didn’t spoil him rotten with your affections. 

And in retaliation, you denied him any kisses or hugs. Show him what deprivation really was. 

You were washing dishes, with a whiney Satoru behind you, his hands wrapped around your waist with his chin on your shoulder. “This has to be considered abuse!” another complaint as you denied his advances. 

“You said I was cold and negligent, so I’m showing you how cold and negligent I can be.” You smiled to yourself, turning off the faucet and drying your hands on a nearby towel. 

Hearing a stifled whine of desperation huff from his nose at your denial. “Jus’ gimme one kiss-” aiming his lips at your cheek only for you to pull away. 

Turning over to look at him- faces inches apart with his hands daring to tighten their grip on your waist. Tilting your head to the side with a snide smile. “Only good boys who don’t complain get kisses.” 

From how close he was- you could see the glimmer in his eyes become blinding at the pet name. 

His features going soft with parted lips- “I’m good-” he choked out, looking at you with goal-oriented eyes. “I’m soooo good-” he muttered, bordering on panicked from the idea that you didn’t think he was. 

Gojo’s hands gripped harshly at your hips. “Have you been a good boy?” you asked, almost sarcastically—as though you were speaking to a puppy. 

He nodded- eager to hear the new compliment leave your lips. Only you nodded ‘no.’

“I don’t think you have ‘toru.” you hummed, his lips coming closer to yours with a sad pout. As though the idea of him being good in your mind was the most important thing he needed to hear. 

He only placed his forehead onto the crook of your neck with a sad puff, your hand going up to his undercut, softly stroking the back of his neck in some feigned consoling. “Tell me i’ve been good.” he muttered quietly.

So spoiled from you caving with a little pout here or there. Practically putty in your hands as your other hand caressed the side of his face. 

Rolling your eyes with a playful sigh, “You’ve been good.” with a half-assed tone, only for Satoru to look at you with sad eyes. Expecting more than what you offered. 

Pressing a soft kiss onto his forehead and pulling away, “You’re a good boy.” you murmured, watching the light return to his eyes in sync with the little smile on his lips. 

Blinking rapidly as though he was trying to blind you, “My good boy.” and that’s when he got his fill for affection for the next few minutes. 

Then came the task of having to call him that whenever he wanted to hear it- looking at him with a displeased look, knowing you’ve created a monster that thrives on that special kind of praise only you could offer. 

Kento Nanami

We can all agree- Nanami is the one who deserves to be told he’s a good boy the most, right?

There were times when the urge blossomed in your mind- at the tip of your tongue and so close to calling him that pet name. But you never did. 

That was, until you got the guts to test the waters. 

Laying on your back, a few minutes before bed and unwinding while on your phone, and beside you; a hazy Kento that was waiting for you to turn off your side table lamp. Always waiting for you to get ready for bed before allowing himself to fall asleep. 

You let out a soft sigh before turning off your phone. Rolling onto your side with Nanami watching you from the side of his vision. Only this time you didn't reach for the little nob to turn your lamp off. 

You only stayed on your side with a pensive hum leaving your lips. “Scratch my back Ken,” you muttered, clearly tired with your eyes closed. 

Though you couldn’t see it- or hear it, you knew he had a little smile on his face as he shifted onto your side of the bed. A little shiver ran up your spine when his fingertips grazed the small of your back as he reached beneath your shirt. 

A satisfied sigh left your lips when his barely present nails started circling small scratches between your shoulder blades, your cheeks tingling from the words you dared say. “Such a good boy.” with a little smile on your lips, Nanami couldn’t see. 

Nanami didn’t fully process your mumbled words, only offering a hum in response as he kept up the gentle scratches. 

But when his brain started thinking about what you said- thinking if he misheard you. Slowing his hand with furrowed eyebrows, “Did you call me a-” he hesitated in what he thought he heard. 

“A ‘good boy’..?” bordering on a whisper from the nerves of being incorrect. 

Only the little ‘Mhm!’ that left your lips swatted those nerves away. “You’re such a good boy- always so nice to me.” you hummed, closing your eyes against the pillow with his hand still acting on your demand.

A pensive hum left his lips before slowly dragging his hand out of your shirt. You opened your eyes in dread, thinking he didn’t like it- only to hear him plop on his side of the bed with a throaty exhale. 

“Then be good and scratch my back.” he murmured, clearly too tired to process what he had just demanded- and the tone he used opened a whole other can of worms. But seeing as it was only fair- you did the same. 

Toji Zenin

He had been bugging you to finish your work for a while. Poking and prodding at you to stop working and pay attention to the film he put on to distract you. 

Toji had this thing where he pretended not to care- but you could see that it bothered him with every little side eye he made at you when you would stop typing for even a second. Hoping you were looking up at the TV instead of the screen on your lap. 

But every side eye he would make, Toji would find you still working. 

Going as far as nudging you with his elbow to mutter some bullshit lie he thought up on the spot. 

“M’hungry.” he muttered when you would look over at him. 

“Then eat.”

Only a few minutes of an action movie fight before another useless lure for conversation left his lips. 

“S’cold in here.” trying to bait any conversation he could think of. 

You scoffed, knowing exactly what game he was trying to play. “Get a blanket,” he quickly said, not even wanting to lose your train of thought. 

Then another, and another, and another. Till he finally spilled what he really wanted- “You don’t wanna go lay down or somethin-” with a pouty lip and furrowed eyebrows. You sighed and looked over at him.

“Or something?” sarcasm filled your tone as you looked back at the screen. 

Toji rolled his eyes with an exhale- another sassy trait he had learned from you. 

He parted his lips with an inhale. 

“Good boys wait politely, Toji.” you spat- pinched eyebrows and an avoidant gaze as he looked over to you. 

“When have I ever been polite.” he murmured- barely audible and in an annoyed tone. 

“When have you ever been a good boy?” you retorted, surprised he didn’t catch it the first time. 

He only let out a slight hum at your declaration. 

Toji didn’t really bring it up after that- and neither did you. As though the words hadn't processed in his brain till a week later. 

Looking at you across a metal table at an outdoor cafe- “Did you call me a good boy the other day?” almost with a little grimace on his expression. 

You pursed your lips- making Toji think you were going to deny it. 

“No. I said you’re never a good boy.” 

He only raised a brow at your proclamation- sucking his teeth with an inhale, “That’s not true- and you know it.” dismissing your words before taking a bite of the half sandwich you bought to share. 

Takuma Ino

One of the sweetest boys I can imagine. 

Always would he try to be as gentlemanly as he could- reminding himself that when it came to you, he would bend over backward had you asked. 

But there would be times when it would slip his mind entirely. 

Going shopping with him turned from just a quick pit stop- to an hour, then two hours. 

While ordering boba in line, your hands held shopping bags on each side. Ordering your own drink before Ino ordered his. 

He always found it offensive when you would even think of reaching for your wallet- so he would scoff infront of the cashier before tapping the chip of his card onto the little black screen. 

“How am I supposed to pay you back?” you muttered through clenched teeth, taking a few steps to the little wait area as they prepared the bubble drinks. 

He muttered something like ‘You don’t have to pay me back, what else am I here for.’ brushing you off with a little scoff. 

Ino didn't even notice the bags in your hands- his brain fried from how long you had been in the overcrowded mall. He only noticed when you moved the bags to one hand and shifted your stance slightly.

He looked over at you with a soft exhale- reaching for the bags, “Baby, don't tell me you don't have a ssssuuuuper strong boyfriend to hold these for you.” taking them from your hands and watching your expression soften. 

“What kinda boyfriend would let you walk around holding your own bags-” he scoffed, jokingly making fun of himself as you smiled warmly at him. 

Be it the general brain splitting headache you felt at that moment- or the heartmelting warmth you felt looking at him, “You're such a good boy.” you muttered- bordering on an illegable whisper, but Ino heard it. 

His eyes widened in the slightest and parted his lips at the name. “Me?” Ino whispered back, you only nodded ‘yes’ with tired eyes. Leaning in a little to you ear- too cautious for anyone to hear. “A good boy?” he whispered again. Watching the little smile on your lips widen with eager eyes. 

“The goodest boy.” you whispered with a smug tone- knowing he liked being praised in general. You knew he would like the little name. 

-

(a.n) does this count as smut? kinda a grey area me thinks. Didn't know how to tag it. (p.s) im so hungry rn and need to go spend wayyyy too much money on tile :(

[kisses4reid]

ruined surprises | ·˚ ༘ aaron hotchner ,,

summary - you accidentally find a small, red, velvet box in aaron’s drawers.

genre - fluff, nonbau!reader x aaron, proposals, engagement rings, happy ending

warnings - mentions of anxiety, mixed feelings, um… being proposed to???

w.c. - idk why i put this here i never check before uploading. it’s only like 1k you’ll be okay.

a/n - hey pia why don’t we edit those drafts for the requests- no. ima do my own thing 😏🕷️also pls tell me abt mistakes i did not proof read this lol!

You sat at your dining table staring into space, or more specifically the bare wood in front of you. There were mixed emotions coursing through your veins. You felt as if your blood was changing from pink to green in the ugly mesh of conflicting feelings.

While this revelation brought you happiness and immense excitement, it also brought you fear. You were not supposed to find this, at least not now.

It stood prominent in your pocket, a pandora’s box of possibilities on how Aaron would react to your discovery. Would he be scared? Angry? Sad?

Your fingers picked at your nails as you took steadying breaths. The clock read only 5 minutes before Aaron returns from his vigorous job, 5 minutes before you’d have to reluctantly tell him you found the one thing he had been hiding from you.

The front door opens to your apartment and your palms start sweating in insecurity.

He’s tired, he’s worked all day, maybe it’s not the best time to bring it up. But what if he found out you knew the whole time? You’d be lying to him, and he values honesty above all else. What if it’s not for you? A gift, or maybe even an heirloom? Everything in your head started to doubt the one thing you wanted it to mean.

“Honey?”

Aaron stood at the end of the table, eyebrows low and eyes squinted slightly in concern. Coming home to your favourite person disassociating rigidly wasn’t a very warm welcome home. He would usually be greeted by a kiss, or the smell of a meal, or a bear hug. This was off, this was different.

“Aaron.” You smile, genuinely. Even with your anxiety raising your heartbeat by the second, there’s nothing that can keep you smiling from the sight of your handsome lover. Though the feeling was not long lived.

“Are you okay?” He asks, placing his bag down on the table and loosening his tie slightly.

“I’m… We need to talk.” You say with a gulp. You lowered your head and glanced at his expression quickly. It came out more serious than it needed to be, and honestly Aaron started thinking the worse.

He sat on the chair next to you and searched your avoiding eyes, “Y/n-“

“Before you say anything, and before I tell you about what,” you waved your hands slightly, “we’re actually talking about. I need you to know that if I’m wrong you can’t laugh at me, and you can’t get angry. Okay?”

He nodded more confused than ever. Okay so, the fact that he could possibly laugh from this ‘talk’ was a sign it wasn’t anything too bad. He only wished you’d stop taking deep breaths and get too it.

You sighed, tired of your own stalling before reaching in your back pocket and putting a small, deep red velvet box on the table. Aaron’s dark eyes latched onto the box and he sighed, bringing a hand up to mess with his hair in shock.

“Do you know what’s in there?” Maybe you hadn’t-

You nodded. He nodded back and closed his mouth in a tight lipped grimace. This was not how he planned his proposal to go.

You took a deep breath and quickly defended yourself, “I lost my sports bra, and I thought maybe I put it in your drawers accidentally so I opened them and found… that.”

Aaron looked into your eyes, you looked scared but as he watched your eyes soften he knew that you weren’t scared of the implications, you were scared you had done the wrong thing.

“Thank you for not pretending to be oblivious.” He said smoothly, receiving a small smile in return. It warmed his heart. Jesus, he thought you were breaking up with him.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have looked through your stuff. I’ve ruined the surprise, your surprise-“

“It’s okay.” He smiled, bringing his hand over yours, pulling it to his mouth and kissing your knuckles. You smile softly and he continues, “Honestly, it’s a little embarrassing.”

“How?” You tilted your head and furrowed your brows, running your thumb over the back of his hand softly.

“Now you know I want to marry you.” Aaron’s cheeks reddened only slightly, and you laughed to bask in it. It wasn’t often you got your lover blushing.

“You told me you wanted to marry me on our fourth date. Trust me, I remember.”

He laughed this time and looked down at the box. “Did you like the ring?”

“I didn’t get a good look because I shut it immediately. I pinched my finger in the clasp.” You displayed your fingertip as proof, “But from what I saw, it was perfect.”

You didn’t ruin his plans at all, he thought. It wasn’t a terrible revelation, you didn’t give it to him and run away, you didn’t let him down easy. You were honest and turned the moment into a core memory. You laughed. Everything was good when you laughed.

Aaron placed a soft hand on your cheek and placed a loving kiss on your lips, you smiled into it. “You’ll just have to wait longer now.” He whispered jokingly, to which you slapped him on the chest and whined, no fair.

No. What wasn’t fair was that he would get the best life, with the most perfect wife in the world, and others wouldn’t.

But it was hard to feel sorry for others when you were in front of him.

About a month later. Aaron Hotchner decided he couldn’t wait any longer.

Aaron’s arm was on the back rest of the couch, legs stretched on a foot rest and you cross-legged beside him explaining the deep lore behind the movie that was playing in the background. You were blabbering on, voice changing between characters that you tried to imitate, and topic lighting up your face more than the TV screen.

And Aaron’s heart just couldn’t take it. He needed to ask you to marry him more than he needed anything else in the world. Those four words seemed to be the only cure to his love sickness (though he knew it would only get worse).

You laughed at one of your own jokes, and started to calm down your explanation.

“And that’s why the first actor got replaced.” You smiled and placed your hands in your lap, face triumphant. Aaron smiled softly, eyes tracing your face with love and adoration.

“Can I ask you a question?” He asked.

You nodded, thinking it would be about the movie, “Of course.”

“Will you marry me?” He took the familiar velvet box from his sweatpant’s pocket and clicked it open, cheeks hurting in a smile as the ring was exposed to you for the second time. Aaron mentally scolded himself for not having a speech ready but seriously, he had not planned to do it tonight. It was a yearning, a need. Everything he would say to you, he promised to say a million times in your marriage as to not feel guilty about the bland proposal.

You held a hand over your mouth. Eyes glistening quickly, heartbeat seemingly still in your chest.

“Yes, oh my god. Aaron- Yes!” You threw yourself on him and squeezed his shoulders and back in a hug so tight he had to pat your back to get you off.

Not that he wanted you to stop, he just wanted to see you with a ring on your finger as quick as he could.

perm taglist (open!) - @jeffswh0re @reap3erslov3 @candyd1es @0108s22m @aurorsworld @theoraekenslover

[amourisms]

souvenir sent me to heaven, if you’re taking requests i’d love to see a part 2 or another wally one shot. you’re amazing! <3

tease.

summary : who knew wally was so sentimental about his souvenirs?

pairing : wally west x fem!reader

warnings : oral ( f rec ), gag used, fingering, dirty talk, wallys a bit nasty in this one, vibrator ( its him ), edging, begging.

wc : 2k

a/n : been meaning to get around to this for a while hope you enjoy ily

read part one here !

this. this was a golden opportunity, and now all you had to do was wait for wally to get back. you were only snooping around his room to find a mission file but what you uncovered was so much better.

it wasn't long before wally came back zipping all around the place, before finally stopping in his bedroom. if he was shocked to see you, he didn't show it. instead he only asked, "what are you doing in my room?" your hands were placed behind your back holding your little discovery and a shit-eating grin was plastered on your face that you couldn't control. "better question is… what was this doing under your pillow?" you asked teasingly, removing your hands behind your back and waving your panties in front of his face. the same panties he stole from you as a souvenir. your relationship with wally stayed unchanged for the most of it, but ever since the kitchen incident you hadn't stopped thinking about it. about him.

it hadn't been long but neither of you hardly said a word to each other since, and you had just assumed he was indifferent to what happened. but this? this truly was something else, and you'd be damned if you weren't going to act all smug about it. "wallace west, the honourable kid flash," you stretched out the word as you stepped closer, "tell me, what do you do with these?"

his lips were pursed together and his eyes flickered around in thought before he answered, "you want the honest answer or some bullshit one?" you didn't even need to open your mouth as a slight tilt of your head and darkened glare said all he need to know. "well if you reaaally want to know," he stepped closer, "its my favourite souvenir. keep it under my pillow for safekeeping and easy access" he says nonchalantly. you try to hide the shock enveloping your features but ultimately he noticed it faster than you did. "you're horrible," you tell him with a reluctant smile on your face. "horrible? i haven't even told you what i do with them yet." he says feigning hurt.

"i rub them all over my cock," he steps closer, "i think about your hands all over me, the way you said my name, how you looked on your knees" he steps closer, "how fucking heavenly you felt." your breath hitches in your throat, and its only then you realised you've been trapped between him and his bed. his hands find a home on your hips, which made you melt enough for your brain to ditch any remaining self control you had left. he embraces your lips messily, like all his self control had been thrown to the wind as well.

before you can wrap your arms around his neck he pushes you back onto the bed with zero warning. before you can get mad at him, wally climbs on top of you and starts kissing on your neck. somehow, he simultaneously manages to remove your clothes as he continues kissing down your body. his fingers hook under the waistband of your shorts, being sure to leave your underwear on. he speaks through the kisses on your stomach, "might need another souvenir." although the idea soaks his precious souvenir even more you lightly smack his arm in rebuttal to his words, "at this rate, i won't have any panties left to wear."

you can feel his smile on your skin as his hands finally move to remove your underwear. he lifts his head up, only just slightly, so you can see his piercing green eyes as he speaks, "i told you i like easy access." once he finally gets the pair off, he holds them up proudly, "such a gorgeous pair, babe, don't you think we should put them to good use?" and with that he wasted no time in stuffing them in your mouth.

before you could protest, he began to lazily drag his tongue over your cunt eliciting a soft whimper from you. it wasn't long before he began focusing on your clit, overwhelming sensations taking over your entire body. when he added a finger into the mix of it all, inserting it in your hole and gradually adding another, your hand couldn't help but grip onto his hair. your body felt out of your control as your thighs clamped around his face. now it was your turn to trap him in, and just as you didn't mind he didn't either. in fact, he wished he could stay between your legs forever.

you could feel the knot in your stomach tightening, but wally was keeping you on the edge. you tried telling him you needed to come but it all came out as inaudible mumbles. "whats that?" he asked sarcastically as his fingers remained working you up. you groaned and whimpered in response bucking your hips into his hand as further indication to what you wanted. "just tell me what you want," he tells you with a fake softness, "i can't give it to you until you ask." god, you hated wally west. even if your body showed the opposite.

as his fingers worked relentlessly inside you, it only got you more and more frustrated. he watched you in awe as you whined and wriggled underneath him, trying so badly to chase your high. in a fit of annoyance, you ended up ripping out your makeshift gag yourself and with wally's fingers slowing down in reaction you could swear you'd throw him into a wall. if only his hair wasn't so messy and tousled, and his eyes weren't so cunning, and his lips weren't curved into such a calculating smirk, and his face wasn't covered in your own juices. maybe you actually would've. instead you gave up with a sigh of defeat before softly whispering, "please, 'needa cum so bad."

he takes a second before answering, "i'm not sure you do," his tone is conniving as his fingers fasten. he truly was an evil, scheming son of a bitch. that knot in your stomach you were all too familiar with by now revived and you couldn't stop the sea of words that began flowing out, "please please please", "need you", "'want you to make me come, wally." hearing his name come out of mouth, so breathless and desperate, he finally decided to end your torture (and his considering the way his boxers felt impossibly tight and he was now rutting against the bed).

in a singular fluid motion, he had manoeuvred his arms around your thighs to force them apart against your instincts and began lapping at your juices. your hips grinded against his face while he ate you out like you were his favourite meal. you probably were. as his tongue fucked your needy hole, his nose brushed against your clit and it wasn't long before he was able to take you to the edge again. seeing you in this state, wally made every movement quicker and quicker until you could feel him vibrate. the sensation urged a moan to fall from your tongue and it only made the vibrations stronger. between his nose and his tongue, your clit and your hole, the vibrations, it all became too much. a wave crashed down, filling your entire body with ecstasy and relief. wally let you take a minute to come down as he wiped all your essence off his face with the back of his hand and took his shirt off.

you let yourself drink in his figure whilst he grabbed a condom from his bedside table before taking his pants and boxers off. you'd seen him shirtless during training before, but right now? the way his arms looked as he rolled the condom on himself and his abs contracted with every deep breath made you a lot more lustful than you'd like to admit. before he could try anything you managed to swap spots with him before kissing him again. as he kissed you back, you pushed him backwards onto the bed, so he leaned against the headboard whilst you moved your legs to either side of his. with a hand on his shoulder, you used your other to stroke his dick in slow motions. he bit your lip as his own way of telling you to go faster, but you decided to stop entirely only leaving your hand wrapped around the base of his shaft. he pulled away from the kiss only to be met with your alluring smile.

"you're a jerk, you know that?" wally told you as he leaned his head backward and looked at the ceiling accepting his karma. you leaned into his ear, "not as much as you, babe" you whispered before sliding down onto him. the action made his head snap back and his hands grab onto your hips almost immediately. you had a hand flat on his chest and another on his abs as you slowly rocked back and forth to get better adjusted to his size. you thought he stretched you out last time? this position made you feel him deeper than you thought possible.

his grip on your skin got tighter as he began to gently rock your body faster until you decided to outdo his pace on your own. your nails began to dig into his chest. you could've drawn blood but wally couldn't have cared less. in truth, it probably made him even harder and if you weren't so blissed out you most likely would've felt it.

your body moved with unwavering passion, as wally moved a hand to the side of your slack jaw. he placed his thumb in your mouth and you were quick to suck on it with a flurry of muffled whimpers rising from your throat. the entire scene was pure euphoria to wally. your brows furrowed, lips wrapped around his fingers, nails digging into his skin and your body working so desperately to chase your own high. euphoria.

wally removed his finger from between the warmth of your lips and moved that same thumb down to your clit as he kissed you. the synchronicity of his actions made your head drown in pleasure, making you moan into the kiss. "shit, you're gripping me like a vice," he told you breathlessly between kisses, "look so good fucking yourself dumb on my cock." you would've spat a remark back at him, but he was right and there wasn't a thought in your head except for him.

wally let out a guttural groan when you pulsed around him and once again his hands were on your waist as he planted his feet on the bed. he started meeting your movements with hard and fast thrusts. every movement he made had you teetering over the edge, but when your face nestled into the crook of his neck and he whispered in your ear was all the push you needed to send you over the edge. "that's my girl," he spoke in drawn out words as he noted to memorise every movement you made. he watched the rise and fall of your chest and how the hands on his chest had softened as a wave of pure pleasure washed over your body. most importantly, he took note of the way you clenched around him making his movements falter.

it wasn't long before his orgasm followed suit and you could feel him twitch inside you. a groan escaped from his lips as he bought his forehead to rest against yours. the both of you were now a sweaty, exhausted mess and the aroma of sex became noticeable as he helped you up off of him. wally took a minute as he laid beside you before sliding the condom off him and placing it into a bin whilst slipping into his boxers. you noticed he went to collect your clothes and before he could hand them to you, you rolled your eyes, "don't tell me you're taking another souvenir."

"thanks for the reminder" he answered with a growing smirk plastered on his face.

[leezlelatch]

Secondo x F!Reader - first meetings, brooding, flirting, Secondo's POV. Next in the snippet series...Secondo visits Italia for unpleasant business. Could his stay be the change he needs? @writingjourney

Dark sunglasses cover his eyes, and his expression is blank as the pallbearers walk his mother’s casket down the long aisle. It had been many, many years since Secondo had been in a Catholic Church, and this, his mother’s funeral, would be the last. A procession follows, faces he’s never seen before, and he vaguely wonders if they are cousins, or even siblings. Do they wonder who he is? The long lost son of a woman left in shame after Nihil left his wicked touch on her. Secondo hopes she lived a good life. He thinks she did, quietly watching when he was old enough to handle his own affairs, a silent benefactor. He stands when the last of them leave, his eyes staring scornfully at Jesus on the cross. Where was his grace, when all was broken?

He gets back to the abbey nestled in the hills of the Italian countryside long after dark, having spent several hours wandering the small village of his youth. With a glass of wine in hand, he steps out onto the balcony of his room, looking out over the olive grove the Siblings tend to. The Italian branch of the Ministry sells their own olive oil, a lucrative business that has kept them afloat since he was a boy. It gave him a deeper appreciation for his country, and the beauty that can be grown from the ground and used in their food.

Secondo checks his phone, his thumb scrolling past updates from Sweden, a “me me” his brother sent, deleted, and of his particular interest, the latest on the restoration of a first edition of The Discoverie of Witchcraft by Reginald Scot, a book for his personal collection. He isn’t eager to get back. Tensions are high amongst the Clergy, their dissatisfaction with his younger brother apparent. They simply do not like that Terzo doesn’t bow.

Secondo’s time as Papa is well remembered, and bitterly ended. Too many parties, too many nights trying to drink his life away. Underappreciating what he had until it was gone. He gave Terzo the papacy knowing his brother carries a vision, and he is eager to see it realized. But like a true Emeritus, tragedy is never far. Secondo looks up at the sky and finds the North Star, and he wonders if Primo is in his observatory, looking at the same star. Italy may be where he was born, but Secondo isn’t home. Not when home are three men that in equal parts infuriate him, and make him fight harder every day. He tosses the wine over the edge, setting the glass on the ledge.

“Satan Christ on a stick!” A voice shouts from below. Secondo leans over the balcony railing, looking down in shock at the Sister of Sin now covered in his spilled red wine. She shakes her hands, droplets flying from her fingertips and she looks up, her brow furrowing as she spots him. “Papa,” she says. “I’m wet.”

Well, that’s not the first time he’s heard those words, but not necessarily in this context. Secondo’s mind works a mile a minute to catch up with everything that’s happened in the last few seconds, and he huffs out a small laugh. “Satan Christ?” He asks. 

“It’s a creative way to swear, but I think appropriate,” she answers, looking down at her light sweater now stained red. “I hope this was cheap.” 

Amusement is quickly replaced by regret, and Secondo glances around as if a rag would appear out of thin air. “A moment, Suora. I will be down,” he calls, hurrying into his room and wrenching open the linen closet. He pulls out a towel, grimacing at the light shade. That will be two things he will have to get a burgundy stain out of. He grunts, putting a hand on his back on his way to the front door. Far too much running around for his age, especially so late into the night. 

Secondo steps outside into the night time air, his eyes scanning the place near his balcony where the wine covered sister had been standing. “Suora?”

“Here,” she says, coming around the corner, her sweater removed and in her hands. Secondo pauses, his eyes quickly taking in the sight of her cream colored camisole. He clears his throat, offering her the towel, and he watches with a small frown as she squeezes the sweater between it. 

“Do you have something to say, Papa?” She asks, watching him with an amused quirk of her eyebrow. 

Secondo straightens, his frown deepening, and he tilts his head in atonement. “Forgive me, Suora. I should not be so careless in disposing of my beverages.” He glances away, an uncomfortable itch climbing up his spine. Today has not improved, and here he is, middle-aged man, and her superior, making a fool of himself. 

“I didn’t mean that, although the apology is appreciated. You were looking at me like I was doing something wrong.” She clenches the fabric of her sweater between the edges of the towel, and he waves his hands, reaching for it. 

“You are doing something wrong,” he says gruffly. “Do not squeeze. Blot. We will have to get this under a cold tap.” She laughs, and he glances at her, blowing a breath between his teeth as he begs Lucifer for patience. 

“You seem familiar with…stains,” she says, circling around him, her arms crossed over her chest. Her hair is rustled by the evening breeze, and Secondo pauses, staring at it fluttering and catching between her lips. She blows it away, and he swallows.

“Red stains in particular,” he murmurs, returning to the task at hand.

“That’s something a murderer would say,” she responds, her lips curled at the corners, her smile mysterious. It reminds him of the Mona Lisa.

“There are plenty of rumors about my family, Suora. Choose one,” he says with a flash of teeth. She tilts her head in response, and they stare at each other for a moment. Secondo is used to intimidating people. He doesn’t want to intimidate people. His looks, his demeanor, something somewhere went wrong, and he is paying for it. He gets to watch his brothers be treated like gold by the Siblings where he is dulled copper, dented and used. Secondo garners more fear than respect, and that is acceptable. Or so he tells himself.

“I like the one where you’re all vampires,” she says.

He laughs. A real, genuine laugh, and it makes her smile. He’s caught in that smile, so sweet and full of joy, and it makes him warm. She isn’t intimidated, she’s silly, she cusses in the strangest ways. Is it childish to think this woman is a gift from his mother? Someone real, someone who isn’t afraid.

“Come inside,” he says, holding her wrinkled sweater with a long-suffering sigh. “We shall see if we can save it. I am sorry for drenching you. And tell me about this vampire rumor, will you?”

She follows after him, passing through the open double doors into a hallway lit by old, metal chandeliers that cast a soft yellow glow. “I’ll tell you plenty if you tell me what compelled you to throw your wine off the balcony,” she says.

Secondo leads her up a flight of stairs, his hand gripping the railing, his knees aching from all the walking he did earlier that day. “It displeased me,” he says, unwilling to unload his inner turmoil on a woman he just met. 

“Remind me to stay in your good graces then,” she says, snickering a laugh. He joins her. It feels good to laugh. 

“Ah, do not worry,” he says. “My knees cannot take another trip down the stairs.”

[juniperdugong]

Hi there! Could you do headcanons on choso discovering he has a little sister? She can be whatever age you want I just want to see big brother choso! Thank you! Have a great day!

A/N: THIS IS SO CUTE!!! I'm so obsessed with this concept, ugh! Tytyty for requesting lovely!

Choso discovering he has a Little Sis

✮ I'm so sorry that it has to start like this...but due to the nature of how his technique works, the most immediate thing that Choso would feel is complete dread and despair as the life of a sibling he has had no prior awareness of hangs on the scale of death

✮ He would go insane in the time between this initial discovery and finally finding her, thank goodness he can feel that she isn't dead but god was it a shock and a half to his system

✮ Cho spent days upon days searching hospitals for her. Even if he had prior engagements, they are completely forgotten as he pulls his focus to find his sibling.

✮ Eventually, he finds a girl around 8 years old, who had been in an accident. Apparently, she grew up with her dad and never knew her mom. Her dad passed from the accident and now she has no legal guardian nor any relatives who can take her in.

✮ WITH QUICKNESS Choso is taking her in! Does not matter if it causes complications for Headquarters, there is no questioning him on this decision.

✮ Through some not-so-subtle manipulation (he begged and was going to turn to threatening lowkey) he convinced the school to handle everything from getting her out of the hospital, to her father's affairs, to settling her into a room on campus.

✮ He's all over her immediately, doting on her EVERY. MOVE. Making sure she is okay and happy is his number 1 priority from the moment he knows about her!

✮ She's initially scared of him and scared of the entire situation though...which is NOT how he thought she would react

✮ Choso has an entire fantasy about her running into his arms the moment he mentions that he's her older brother

✮ He's completely dejected when she throws a plushy he had gotten her as a welcome gift right back at him and denies that he will ever be her brother (everyone's explained that she needs time but he's still crying behind her door at the rejection)

✮ Heartbroken but understanding, he keeps his distance for a while. Giving her time to acclimate to everything before approaching her again.

✮ He asks Yuki for tips on what little girls like and how he can make himself more likable in her eyes (She does not give the greatest advice so he falls back on Yuji and Megumi)

✮ They give some solid advice about engaging with her on things she likes so Choso dives headfirst into every single piece of media that she has a toy of, merch of, posters of, etc. (Yuji and Megs are actually really helpful in this department since the girl is slightly tomboyish having been raised by her dad)

✮ She would find presents randomly in areas she frequents around the school with notes attached. In the notes there would be the classic "I hope you're settling well" or "Have a great day!", along with anecdotes and things Cho has learned from his research about whichever piece of media the gift is from, and of course, they all end with "-From your big brother, Choso!"

✮ She still finds him very scary and intimidating but at least she knows her big brother is there for her when she's ready to accept him!

A/N: I love this so much!! He's actually the sweetest when it comes to his siblings...especially when it comes to the younger ones. I would absolutely adore doing a continuation if y'all want it! Thank you again for requesting @broad-strokes87 Please Reblog and Comment (They act as power-ups for me)

Taglist (OPEN): @iluvmattyb

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

The Color of Blood [4]

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Reader

Warnings: angst, fluff, situational almost non-con kissing? (it’s not too bad, I swear, but I don’t wanna catch anyone off guard), cursing, mentions of PTSD/flashbacks/nightmares

Word Count: 3,976

Summary: In this world, a person didn’t discover color until they locked eyes with their soulmate. As an agent of SHIELD, finding your soulmate was hardly a priority. Especially since you were currently dealing with the shocking discovery that HYDRA had been pulling the strings behind SHIELD actions this entire time. Life was all about timing, and you were about to find out that your timing was absolute shit.

Bucky stood stiff beside you. Over the last few days, the two of you had floated around, out of sight, but hadn’t left DC yet. There was something you wanted him to see first. He wore some clothes you had gotten for him, a baseball cap over his clean hair, and his face was drawn in solemn concentration.

“I’m gonna wait here.” You whispered. Bucky turned and gave you a curious look and you just shrugged. “This is something you have to do alone, I think, but I’ll be right here if you need me.”

Bucky stared at you for another beat before walking away from you into the exhibit. The ‘Captain America and the Howling Commandos’ display wasn’t as crowded today as it had been the day you came with Steve. You turned and found a bench to sit on.

The last few days had been… unusual. Looking from the outside it was probably awkward. Bucky had said less than ten words to you since the two of you left that used to be bank. He stayed though. Bucky hadn’t run from you, and despite the lack of communication, you felt comfortable. Being around him, despite barely knowing him, was just nice. You were on the run with a man who people either thought were dead or a criminal, but you felt at peace for the first time…well…ever.

You rested your elbows on your knees and kept your face down in hopes that your own hat shielded your face from view. The burner phone in your coat pocket began to go off so you quickly pulled it out and answered. It was a quick phone call, only minutes long, but it was good news. One of your sources had gotten you in touch with a guy that could get you and Bucky out of the country without being seen. Granted that meant the two of you would be riding in a sketchy cargo plane leaving an abandoned airfield at around 1:30 in the morning, but beggars couldn’t be picky.

More time passed, nearly pushing onto an hour and a half, and you briefly wondered if he would come back. This would be the perfect opportunity for Bucky to slip away if he really wanted to and you couldn’t blame him. You couldn’t imagine what he was mentally going through right now and as much as you hated to admit it, you didn’t even know where to begin to help. You figured getting out of sight was a good first step, but you were winging this entirely.

You sighed and buried your face into your hands. What if you couldn’t help him? What if you made this worse somehow? What kind of soulmate would that make you? You rubbed your hands against your face and then moved them to the back of your neck. Familiar shoes stepped into your line of vision and you glanced up just as Bucky knelt down in front of you. You hadn’t even heard him walk up.  

“Are you okay?” Bucky asked softly, his voice low.

You gave him a tight smile, “Yeah. How are you? How was…”

Bucky glanced down at his feet briefly before looking back up to meet your gaze. The corner of his lips twitched up just a bit. It was the closest thing you had seen to a smile on him, but you could hardly even consider it that with the pain that was still in his eyes. He nodded once, “Thank you for this. I…”

“You’re welcome.” You replied. He didn’t need to say anything more than that. Bucky stood up and he hesitated for a moment before holding his hand out to you. You took it and he pulled you up from your seat before shoving his hands into his coat pocket. “I got us a ride out of the country.” Bucky’s eyes widened in surprise. “How do you feel about Romania?”

4 MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF SHIELD

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, shit.” You mumbled under your breath as you tried to salvage the chicken that was burning in the pan. You had only looked away for a second and the damn thing chose that moment to start turning black. It was ridiculous. All the skills you had as an agent did not translate over into the domestic world. You beat the Black Widow in sparring once, only once, and yet you couldn’t cook a chicken without fucking it up.

Bucky was suddenly beside you, you never heard him coming, but he carefully took the spatula from you and went to work in fixing what you had messed up. The two of you were living the weirdest domestic life that probably ever existed. You shared a tiny apartment in the middle of a busy Romanian city. It was only one large room with a bathroom that branched off it. A bed sat in the corner that you slept on and a couch sat in the middle of the room, a little way in front of the kitchen island counter, that Bucky slept on. You fought him tooth and nail to trade, since he was so much larger, but the man wouldn’t have it.

The two of you had fallen into a familiar, cozy habit. You worked at a small café nearby with a fake name to earn money and Bucky did odd jobs that he ran into around the apartment complex. He mostly stayed out of sight for now. It was better that way.

Despite four months together, Bucky still didn’t say much. He’d hold a soft conversation with you now and again, but he kept mostly to himself. He’d read books you picked up from him on the way home and he’d write in a few notebooks he kept. You weren’t entirely sure what he wrote all the time, but it didn’t seem like your place to be nosy about it.

You found comfort in all that silence though. Bucky didn’t talk much, but he did little things that warmed your heart. He’d make your coffee just like you liked it in the morning without saying a word and sometimes when you’d wake up from a nap you’d find a blanket spread over you despite not placing it there when you passed out. You had a bit of a sweet tooth, but it didn’t feel right spending your limited money on any sort of sweets. Yet, sometimes you’d come home from work and your favorite candy or pastry would be on the counter waiting for you.

“How did you manage to fix this mess?” You asked with a chuckle. The edges of the chicken were still burned because of you, but Bucky had managed to save the rest.

Bucky gave you a small smile, “It’s easy. You just make cooking a lot harder than it should.”

Your lips curled up into a wide grin at his teasing. Bucky diverted his eyes away from you and focused back on the pan. The urge to bump your shoulder into his playfully came to mind, but you resisted. He still wasn’t much of a fan of any sort of contact, understandably. The only times he sought out any sort of touch was after one of his nightmares, which he still had regularly much to your dismay, and you never hesitated to wrap your arms around him and give him any sort of comfort he needed.

7 MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF SHIELD

It was the middle of the night and at first you weren’t entirely sure what had roused you from your sleep. Your eyes fluttered wearily, and it took a second for your eyes to adjust to the dark. There was a weight on the mattress beside you and when you turned your head you came face to face with Bucky. You took in a sharp breath as your eyes traced his features. Not Bucky. The Soldier.

This wasn’t the first time you had woken up to what HYDRA had created. Sometimes Bucky would have a terrible nightmare and instead of waking up himself the Soldier would slip through the cracks. As startling as it was though, the Soldier had never hurt you.  

He was lying on his right side, and slowly lifted his left hand up to your face. That was one strange thing you noticed. Bucky tended to shy away from physical touch still, but anytime he did reach out to you he always used his right hand. His flesh and blood. Anytime the Soldier came out to play though, he would only touch you with the metal one.

The Soldier traced his metal fingers across your eyebrow then around the curve of your eye down to the cheekbone beneath it. He lightly grazed the skin there before letting his fingers trail down the bridge of your nose until they found your lips. The Soldier’s cold fingers traced your lips and you stayed as still as possible as you let him. He never seemed to mean you harm and he never went too far. It seemed like he just liked to trace your features, like a man memorizing a lover’s face, while mumbling in Russian.

You couldn’t help but gasp a little when his cold finger brushed against your neck. They followed the curve down to your shoulder and slipped under the edge of your shirt just a bit so he could feel your collarbones. It was all normal. Actually, normal might not be the right word. You didn’t think anything about this was normal. It was the usual though. Nothing out of the ordinary and you actually found your eyes drifting closed at the feather light touches.

The Soldier shifted beside you, but you didn’t think anything of it until the metal hand cupped around your neck. Your eyes snapped open, panicked, but the Soldier’s face just hovered over yours as he half leaned on top of you. It was easy to differentiate between the Soldier and your soulmate. As time had passed you mentally separated the two and drew a line in the sand. The face hovering over yours with cold eyes and tightly drawn lips was not your Bucky. It was not the man whose lips would curl up into a small smile anytime you walked into the room. It wasn’t the man whose soft, stormy eyes made you feel like the most beautiful girl in the world. Like you were something special.

Your thoughts were interrupted when the Solider leaned down. You whipped your head to the side, his lips landing on the side of your face, and his hands tightened around your neck in response to try and straighten your head.

“Bucky!” You yelled. The moment the name fell from your lips the body half on top of yours leaped off. You sat up and your eyes landed on Bucky who was pressed against the wall opposite from you, his chest heaving like he had run a marathon. It was Bucky though. It was your Bucky. You recognized those eyes, “Buck—”

Bucky’s eyes snapped to meet yours, but before you could say another word he sprinted out the front door. You fell out of bed, tangled in your own blankets, then tried to run after him. By time you got to the stairs though he was far out of sight. Panic flooded your system. You stumbled back to your apartment and sat down at the kitchen island at one of the two bar stools you had.

You had known the Soldier wouldn’t have hurt you. Something in you was convinced that if you had told him to stop he would’ve immediately.  You had just panicked though. The first time you’d kiss those lips you wanted it to be Bucky. It’d be a lie to say you hadn’t thought of it before, but you’d wait until he was ready. Even if that took years and years and years.

What if he didn’t come back?

That thought plagued you for hours until you passed out on the counter.

Morning light filled the room around you and when you slowly woke up you realized you were lying back on your bed rather than the kitchen island. Your blanket was tucked around you, a good sign, but Bucky was nowhere to be seen in the room and you didn’t hear the bathroom fan running. Worry ran through your veins as you sat up, but before you could start to form some kind of plan the front door opened.

Bucky stepped inside, baseball cap pulled tight over his dark hair, and he stopped at the sight of you staring at him. In one hand he had a box of pastries from your favorite bakery down the street and in the other he had a bouquet of flowers. He swallowed nervously, using his foot to close the door behind him. You stood up as he walked over to the counter and set the items he had on the tile top.

“I’m sorry.” Bucky breathed. “I’m so sorry. I thought about leaving. Thought it’d be better, but…” He clenched his jaw and glanced down at his feet with a shake of his head before looking back up at you, “I couldn’t. I’m so sorry.”

You crossed the room, stopping in front of him, and pressed your lips together, “Can I—Can I hug you?”

Bucky opened his mouth just to shut it again then he nodded. That was all you needed. You closed the space between the two of you and threw your arms around him as you buried your face into the crook of his neck. It took a moment, but you slowly felt him wrap his arms around you as well.

“It’s okay.” You whispered. “I’m not scared of you. You’d never hurt me, Bucky.”

His arms tightened around you just a little bit more.

14 MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF SHIELD

It had been a normal day. You had gotten home from work in a good mood, dinner had been made and eaten. After a year together, the two of you had settled like some sort of old married couple. It wasn’t the kind of life you ever expected you’d have, but you were weirdly happy. Bucky had improved a lot over the year. He still had nightmares, but they were coming once a week rather than daily now. More than that, he smiled these days. He’d smile and laugh and he’d talk to you about old memories that came to him. That’s what those notebooks he kept were. One was for the memories he wished he didn’t remember. Missions that he felt obligated to suffer for. One was for memories from his past. Things about Steve or his sister Rebecca or his parents and friends. Then the third notebook he had was for things he never wanted to forget. It was like his journal.

Bucky had come so far and nothing proved that more to you than the moment he touched you for no reason other than wanting to touch you. You had been at the sink, washing dishes, and he had come over to help you by drying. As he grabbed the rag though, he set his right hand on the small of your back and left it there for just a moment. It was such a small thing, sweet and short, but it felt like such a huge step as well.

It had felt like a switch had been flipped. Bucky had gone from no contact at all to constantly having at least one hand on you. It was all innocent touches. A hand on your shoulder, a hand on your back as he passed you, a brush against your wrist as he handed you a coffee, or his shoulder pressed against yours when you sat on the couch together talking. It was just like he was trying to convince himself that you were actually there beside him. You liked it though. You liked it a lot.

16 MONTHS AFTER THE FALL OF SHIELD

Your shift at the café had lasted longer than it usually did, you were covering for a coworker, and when you got home you figured Bucky would’ve eaten by now and had something set aside for you. That’s usually how it went. When you opened the apartment door you were startled to see that the room lights were out, but a couple candles were lit on the kitchen counter. The setting sun cast light through the small balcony door you guys had as well. Bucky had been by the fridge and he turned around at the sound of your entrance.

Bucky had on a button up shirt and jeans, rather than his usual t-shirt and jacket, and his hair was pulled back into a small half bun so it didn’t hang in his face. On the counter, by the candles, you now realized there were two plates set out and a small thing of flowers there as well. A small smile flittered to your features and Bucky mimicked the motion.

“Hey,” He nodded and wrung his hands together, a nervous tic of his that you recognized, “I figure, we’ve lived together almost a year and a half now, yet I still haven’t taken my soulmate out on any kind of date.” Bucky cleared his throat. “My ma would beat me if she knew.”

You laughed, “Oh, would she?”

“Without a doubt.” Bucky nodded. He quickly stepped forward and pulled out the stool for you, “I made your favorite.”

You tossed your bag aside and sat down on the stool, “My favorite? Wow, you’re pulling out all the stops, aren’t you?”

“I’m trying, doll.” Bucky chuckled and moved to get the food. “I’m just praying some of the charm I used to have back in the day somehow survived.”

“I think you’d be surprised.” You replied with a smirk. After setting the food down, he grabbed a bottle of wine and uncorked it. If someone had told you that your first date with your soulmate was going to be in a rundown apartment in Romania after living with them for a year then you would’ve laughed in their face. Yet, here you were doing just that and you couldn’t imagine a more perfect first date.

The evening went by perfectly. As the sun dipped below the horizon the only thing lighting the room were the candles and the moonlight.

Bucky chuckled and took a sip of his drink, “It would be too cheesy if I said that of all the colors we can now see my favorite is your eyes, right?”

“Oh, absolutely.” You laughed even though your favorite color was definitely the stormy, blue gray of his. “You were supposed to be convincing me that you were charming not cheesy.”

Bucky grinned and it made him look years younger, “I am doing my best. Can I get a little slack, doll?”

“Nope.” You said and finished the last of your wine. “I’m actually keeping score right now so I can give you a grade by the end of the night.” Bucky shook his head and stood up to grab the wine bottle off the counter behind him. He poured a little more in your glass. “I can’t decide if you gain points for giving me more wine or lose points for trying to get me inebriated.”

Bucky scoffed, “You’re killing me. You know that right? Actually killing me.”

“You love it.” You joked in response.

He hesitated beside you, setting the bottle down, and cleared his throat, “Yeah. I do.” Your eyes widened a little at his tone. Bucky leaned one arm on the counter beside you and took in a steadying breath, “Everything you’ve done for me… I can’t even begin to tell you how much that means to me.”

“Bucky…”

Bucky shifted to set his hand on top of yours, “I spent the first 27 years of my life wondering what it’d be like to meet my soulmate. What she’d be like. Then, when I—when I fell… I can remember it. I can remember lying in the snow, bleeding, and I distinctly remember waiting to die and feeling so goddamn sorry.” You flipped your hand over to squeeze his hand in comfort. “I felt so awful that I was leaving my soulmate with no one. That she’d live in a world without color for the rest of her life because I made a stupid mistake on a mission.” He gave you a tight smile. “Then I met you. I don’t deserve any of this. After everything I’ve done—”

“None of that was your fault. That was HYDRA, not you.” You said firmly.

Bucky raised his other hand to set on the side of your face, “I don’t understand how I’m so lucky to have a soulmate as remarkable and amazing as you. I love you. I just want you to know that.”

“I love you.” You replied softly and you meant it with your entire being. Bucky said he was lucky, but you felt like the lucky one. You had never met someone who seemed to just understand you like he did. He might have thought all of this was effort for you, a trial, but this past year and half had been the best of your life.

Bucky’s eyes darted down to your lips and he slowly leaned forward. His lips hovered a breath away from yours and you knew he was giving you the space to pull back if you wanted to. That was the last thing on your mind though. You had been waiting for this moment for so long. You leaned forward, eyes closed, and pressed your lips against his. The kiss was soft, hesitant, and you broke apart after a moment. When your eyes opened and met his again though something changed between the two of you.

You stood up from your stool, knocking it over in the process, and wrapped your arms around his neck as you pulled his lips back to yours. Bucky grabbed your thighs, not letting his lips leave yours, and lifted you up until you were sitting on the counter. One hand traced up your body, grabbing the back of your head to hold you close, as his other rested on your back to pull you flush against his chest. You sucked on his lower lip and the groan that fell from his mouth was a sound you’d do anything to hear again.

Bucky tore his lips from yours and left a trail of kisses along your jawline, to the space right below your ear, then down the side of your neck until you felt his teeth graze against your pulse point. A small gasp left your lips as his tongue brushed over where his teeth had gotten you and he tightened his other arm around you as if you weren’t already pressed as close to him as you physically could be.

“It’s been a while since I’ve done this.” Bucky mumbled against your skin.

You grinned and tugged on his shirt to bring his lips back towards yours, “Could’ve fooled me.” Bucky slipped his tongue between your lips and you briefly wondered how the hell anyone could be this good at kissing. You didn’t realize a kiss could be good enough to make you feel like this. After another moment, the kiss turned soft again. Bucky pulled back slightly only to lean forward and press his lips against yours a few more times. You set your hands on either side of his face and met his warm gaze. “I love you.”

“I’ll never get tired of hearing you say that.” Bucky mumbled and pressed his lips against yours again. “I love you.”

Romania wasn’t a place you planned to call home, but you were beginning to realize that home was in Bucky’s arms.

[previous chapter]

[epicbuddieficrecs]

Weekly Recap | January 1st-7th 2024

First rec of 2024! Happy New Year everyone! I hope it's a good one!

(damn, can you tell I was off from work? this rec is long af 😅 I know it's a bit late but once I got done I just wanted to yeet it off my drafts asap)

Complete

🔥 All My Shattered Oaths by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels/ @letmetellyouaboutmyfeels (Vampires AU | 107K | Explicit): Eddie wants to stay away from his family’s legacy and give his son a normal life. Buck’s desperate to find a way to get over the love he lost. Fate has other plans for both of them.

🔥 a blaze in the dark by woodchoc_magnum/ @woodchoc-magnum (Post-S6, Eddie Coming Out | 117K | Explicit): Set post-Season 6, where Buck has inadvertently sacrificed his friendship with Eddie in order to focus on his new relationship with Natalia, and is shocked when Eddie comes out to the team and subsequently reveals that he is dating a guy.

i'm down on my knees (i wanna take you there) by burnthatbridge/ @burnthatbridge (PWP, Glory Hole | 5K | Explicit): Buck is… a little drunk. So, he honestly thinks, when he first spots it, after stumbling into the stall, clumsily undoing his fly, and taking a very needed leak, that he’s seeing things. It takes him reaching out — with a hand he was already going to wash and probably should doubly do so now — and sticking a finger through it to convince him that the sight hasn’t been fabricated by his inebriated brain. It’s real. It’s a glory hole. His first thought is, huh; his second is, I have got to show Eddie.

making love to the flashes by sibylsleaves/ @sibylsleaves (PWP, Hot Firefighter Calendar | 11K | Explicit): When Buck had told them all the Hot Days, Smoldering Nights, Men of the LAFD Wall Calendar had selected him to represent the 118 for the month of July, Eddie hadn’t thought much of it. He’d congratulated him with a clap on the shoulder, laughed along with Hen, Chim, and Bobby’s good-natured teasing, and that had been that. Well, Eddie certainly isn’t laughing now.

with a bird at your door by @sibylsleaves (S6, Getting Together | 3K | General): Eddie starts spending all his time with Buck. Which would be fine if it weren't for the fact that Buck is in love with him.

we're gonna need some land between our bodies by @sibylsleaves (Post-Poker Date | 9K | Explicit): or, Buck and Eddie can't fuck yet (four times Buck and Eddie try to define the relationship and the one time they do)

my heart's a secret (tell me you'll keep it) by @sibylsleaves (Getting Together | 5K | Teen): Or, Buck tells Chimney a secret. This proves to be a mistake.

the winner takes it all (the loser has to fall) by @burnthatbridge (Getting Together | 4K | Teen): Buck and Lucy compete to see who's the better kisser. Eddie somehow finds himself the judge. (Part 1 of winner takes all)

the winner takes all (of me) by @burnthatbridge (PWP, Buck/Eddie/Lucy | 4K | Explicit): An alternative ending to Buck and Lucy's kissing competition. (Part 2 of winner takes all)

Calling (So You'll Answer) by Princessfbi / @princessfbi (Angst, Hurt Buck | 29K | Mature | Warning: Rape/Non-Con): “Buck? Did you drunk dial me?” Eddie did not envy Buck’s headache in the morning. He fought back the urge to smile at the thought of Buck, hungover and pouting with his curls in wild form on his head and his hands twisting and knotting in his favorite hoodie for the comfort the texture brought him. “Can you come take me h-home?” Buck asked, his voice sounding so painfully young. “I don’t …feel good.”

Smoke and Ashes Brushed Off with Ink by @princessfbi (Tattoo Artist Eddie AU | 18K | Mature): Tattoo Artist!Eddie Diaz AU inspired by the tumblr thread about praise kink discovery when getting a tattoo.

i'll lie awake for you by diazbegins/ @evanbegins (Married Buddie, PWP | 8K | Explicit): Or: Buck and Eddie, newly-weds, spend their well-deserved time alone.

I'd Wait Here Forever by @princessfbi (Angst, Stalker | 21K | Mature | Warning: Rape/Non-Con): “Come on. You and me could—” Buck caught Chimney moving to intervene between them but the words were already falling past Buck’s lips before he even realized he was speaking. “I have a boyfriend.” Buck stopped when he registered the words. So, did Chimney before he shot Buck a look over his shoulder like Buck had grown a second head. Probably because, like Buck, Chimney knew that Buck did not have a boyfriend. In fact, he’d been single for a painfully long time since he and Taylor split up. Single and probably very obviously hung up on his best friend who didn’t seem to notice the way Buck would throw himself into oncoming traffic if Eddie asked.

Tear Me to Pieces; Skin to Bone by @princessfbi (Undercover Mission, kidnapping | 22K | Teen | Warning: Violence): Bobby wasn’t comfortable with the LAPD wanting to use Buck as bait. Because that’s exactly what Buck would be: bait. Or: The LAPD want to borrow Buck for an undercover mission to hunt down a serial killer. No one is thrilled.

pink and black and blue by devirnis/ @devirnis (Getting Together | 1,5K | Teen): “Hey!” Buck calls. Eddie spares himself a moment to briefly entertain the idea of fleeing out the back, but knows it would ultimately be pointless. His truck is in the driveway so Buck knows he’s home, and they’re on shift together in two days and there’s no way his bruises will be gone by then, no matter how much he ices them. “In the kitchen,” Eddie answers resignedly. (Bad Things Happen Bingo: Black Eye)

on sleep and unspoken things by evcndiaz/ @evcndiaz (Post-S4 | 2K | Not Rated): “You reached out for me. On that day. You tried to touch me.” The words sink into the silence between them. He did, didn't he? Eddie doesn't remember much from the shooting—only pain, and fear, and screaming (his own and so many others), and the vague echo of Buck’s voice—but he remembers that.

in red blue green by hammersmiths/ @henswilsons (Documentary | 11K | Teen): The commissioner signs off on a workplace documentary set in the 118 to better community attitudes towards the fire department. Unfortunately, whatever is going on between Firefighters Buckley and Diaz is a much more interesting story.

with blood in my nose by @henswilsons (Canon Divergent, S4E14: Survivors | 9K | Teen): or, Buck is the one who gets shot instead of Eddie.

let me know you (bedhead and morning breath) by @burnthatbridge (Post-Lightning | 6K | Explicit): Buck hasn't gotten off since the lightning strike. Eddie watches him do something about it.

sometimes an onion really is just an onion (and that’s all there is to it) by snarkymuch / @snarkythewoecrow (Post-Grocery Store Argument | 5K | Teen): Buck wanted fajitas, so he went to the store for the sweet onions he needed, but he got the wrong kind because he unexpectedly ran into the team, which had nothing to do with why he was crying in his kitchen--obviously, the shitty onions were to blame. And his day just gets worse from there--as he ends up fileting off a strip of skin, bleeding everywhere, then accidentally hitting his talk-to-text and sending a ramble he never meant anyone to hear to the last person on earth to care: Eddie.

i find you in everything (but its here you find yourself) by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Post-S6, Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck takes another sig of beer, "she left." "Sorry, man, I know you liked her. Guess where most people are scared of death, a death doula is scared of life." "Wow, that's actually pretty poignant," Buck says. "Didn't know you had it in you." Eddie just rolls his eyes. "Its weird, though, her being scared off by a donor baby." Eddie frowns over at him. "Chris didn't freak her out?"

Paper Rings by buckleyblueyes (orphan_account) (Canon Divergent, S4 | 6K | Teen): Maddie went quiet for a moment, looking at him not with pity, but instead with empathy, and shared sadness. “So. What did you find, then?” “An engagement ring.” The words weighed heavy on his tongue. “He’s going to propose to Ana.” 

Burn a bridge, learn how to swim by WatermelonShots (AvocadosUnderTheEaves) / @applesorcery (Getting Together | 13K | Mature): In which there is some unexpected making out, some pining, one third of an existential crisis and a lot of unhelpful advice. Not necessarily in that order. (Part 1 of Burn a bridge, learn how to swim)

Can't cross the sea just standing there by WatermelonShots (AvocadosUnderTheEaves)/ @applesorcery (Established Buddie, PWP | 7K | Explicit): In which there are sleepovers and snakes and some jealousy. (But probably not the kind you think.) (Part 2 of Burn a bridge, learn how to swim)

tell me how it feels (say it ain't so) by Iover_of_mine (I_almost_do)1 @lover-of-mine (Post-S6, Getting Together | 8K | Teen): Eddie hears Natalia saying Buck's death was cool and things spiral out of control from there.

Arm Candy by @princessfbi (Poker Date spec | 8K | General): “Act cool.” Buck shivered at the rumble of Eddie’s voice. “I think I got us in on the game.” Act cool? Act cool! How was Buck was supposed to act cool when he had Eddie dressed like sin parading Buck around like— Buck choked on his tongue as he finally realized what Eddie was doing and why apparently everyone had been so blasé about Buck going undercover after treating him like he was made of glass for weeks. “Am I the arm candy?” Eddie was damningly silent.

empty, broken, lonely, hoping by DaniWib/ @daniwib (Post-S6, Presumed Dead | 44K | Mature): Eddie's world crumbles when Buck’s apartment building becomes engulfed in a cataclysmic seven-alarm fire, resulting in a devastating mass casualty event. Amidst the chaos, Eddie and the rest of the 118 grapple with the heart-wrenching belief that both Buck and Christopher have met a tragic fate within the merciless inferno.

i lit the match, the firemen can do the rest by honestlydarkprincess / @honestlydarkprincess (Post-S6, PWP | 6K | Explicit): Or, the one where Eddie is pining and decides to drive over to Buck's. He doesn't expect to walk in on friends-with-benefits Buck and Natalia and he definitely doesn't expect the night to end with him getting everything he's ever wanted with Buck.

The Comfort of Your Hands by Spotsandsocks/ @spotsandsocks (Getting Together | 3K | Teen): Buck accidentally starts running his fingers through Eddie’s hair. Eddie lets him and things slowly move towards something special.

unfold me (tell me you love me) by extasiswings/ @extasiswings (S4, Love confession | 2K | Teen): Eddie goes on a date and has some realizations about what he really wants

the measuring contest by ColorMeParanoid/ @color-me-paranoid (9-1-1 LS S2E3: Hold the Line | 2K | Teen): Hen snorted from her own cot. “Trust me, guys. This isn’t the kind of measuring contest you want to play with Buck because you will lose.” But, comparing scars and exchanging crazy stories when meeting other people in your profession was basically a rite of passage so of course they didn’t take her warning seriously. It became a challenge instead and Eddie settled in for the show.

live while we're young by ashavahishta / @ashavahishta (De-Aging | 5K | General): Or: Some wonky magic leaves the firefam to take care of a tiny Buck for a few days. He's really, unfairly cute.

Radio Silence by madamewriterofwrongs/ @madamewriterofwrongs (Hurt Buck | 9K | Mature): Bobby was going to have a long talk with him about his self-sacrificing habits. For now, he kept his words calm and authoritative; for both their sakes. “None of that, you just hold still. Are you injured?” There was silence. Around him, the paramedics and firefighters of the 118 waited with bated breath. “Pretty bad.” There was little humor in his voice, though they could hear him trying. “My head. And uh, hahaha,” his laughter came as a gust of air. “I’ve been impaled?”

Buck Is My Warrior by elisela/ @elisela (Fluff | 5K | General): “We’ll be filming a special edition of American Ninja Warrior,” Troy announces after the introduction to the current contestant ends, “focused on our brave first responders. Go to our website to find out more details and how to submit your videos.” Oh. “Buddy,” Eddie says, “I don’t really know if that’s my thing.” Christopher looks at him, then says, “I want to nominate Buck.”

The Badass Background of one Evan Buckley series by Onlymystory / @theallandthemoreofit (Navy SEAL Buck | 5 works | 32K | Complete):

A Six Minute Man (Hostage | 3K | Teen): Or the one where Buck's secret background as a Navy SEAL comes in really handy in a hostage situation. Buck Begins (Backstory | 1K | Mature): When Evan Buckley Spencer is five years old, he wants to be a firefighter. They save people he says. He’s going to be one someday. One of the Good Guys (Revenge | 3K | Mature): Eddie says “You find every single person that hurt our son and you burn them to the ground.” - The Moscow Rules are simple. “Once is happenstance. Twice is coincidence. The third time is enemy action."

With A Little Help From My Friends by @extasiswings (PTA Eddie | 3K | Teen): Eddie makes friends outside of work and realizes that Buck might not, in fact, be just a friend

(Not) Under the Mistletoe by Tizniz / @tizniz (Christmas | 2K | Not Rated): Buck is definitely not avoiding Eddie at the Christmas party where mistletoe is everywhere.

Flash Forward by @daniwib (Different First Meeting | 3K | Explicit): The last thing Eddie remembered was pressing the tiny, blood smeared photograph of Christopher to his trembling lips while huddled behind rocks, hiding from the insurgent's attack. The next thing he knew was when he woke up, naked, with a muscular body on top of him. OR: Eddie has a flash forward when he gets shot during his last tour.

WIP

and we are homeward bound by glorious_spoon/ @glorious-spoon (established Buddie | 1/3 | 3K | Explicit): "Okay," Buck says finally, muffled. He rubs his face against Eddie's shirt again. "You promise you're not going to dump me if he smashes a salad bowl over this?" "I promise I will not dump you if our kid has a tantrum about us finally getting our act together," Eddie recites solemnly. Buck laughs against his shoulder and finally pulls back. Or: Buck and Eddie get around to telling the people they love that they're together. (sequel to Something Dumb to Do)

Kiss Me Once Cause You Know I Had A Long Night by I_still_dont_understand_13 / @sherlockcrossing (Prompt collection | 21/? | 14K | Teen): 100 kiss prompts.

Chapter 21. 10. Surprise kisses, in which your lover wasn't prepared but responds immediately

🔥 Precious & Fragile Things by Daisies_and_Briars/ @cal-daisies-and-briars (Small Miracles AU, Angel Buck | 10/? | 25K | Teen): Buck is the Fallen Angel of Petty Temptation, who has been tasked with tempting human Eddie Diaz to sin and enjoy life, but just a little. He thinks the job will be easy - get in, get out, go back to Peru to continue messing around with eternity. But when Buck arrives in Los Angeles, he finds Eddie is harder to tempt than expected, and more compelling than Buck had hoped.

and if i bleed (you'll be the last to know) by diazchristopher/ @captain-hen (Canon Divergent Season 6, Friends with Benefits | 2/18 | 9K | Explicit): or, an alternate look at season 6 where buck and eddie have been casually sleeping together since before the beginning of the season. somehow, this changes both everything and nothing at all.

🔥 Things We're All Too Young to Know by @cal-daisies-and-briars (Canon, S1 through S6 | 104/? | 283K | Mature): This is a love story. Even if it doesn’t always look like it. Even if it doesn’t always feel like it. A look back on Eddie and Buck's lives up to now, and what led them to each other, interpreted from the current 9-1-1 canon.

Re-Read

🔥 the weekly bet (but the forever kind) by theleftboobgrabber (Post S3E15 | 49K | Explicit): When the squad bets on how long it will take for Buck and Abby to get back together when she comes back to LA, Eddie is forced to reconsider keeping his feelings for Buck a secret.

🔥 come out to the sea, my love by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan (Canon Divergent - Tsunami | 8K | Teen): Tsunami au in which the 118 find out about Buck and Chris being stranded on top of the ladder truck and come to rescue them before they get separated.

🔥 Your Scars and Your Lonely Heart by Taste_is_Sweet (Sentinels AU, Tsunami | 82K | Teen): Clara Williams just wanted to visit Pacific Park during her layover in Los Angeles. She never expected to find a young, exceptional Sentinel dying for lack of a bond. Actually, what she really never expected was a tsunami, or the same Sentinel to save her life. But Clara's a Guide, so now she's on a mission to keep Evan "Buck" Buckley alive until she can get him to Eddie Diaz, the Guide who should have bonded with him, but didn't. Because Clara can't bond with Buck, no matter how much she wants to. There's just one problem: Buck's convinced Eddie doesn't want him, and he might not survive long enough to find out the truth.

i (for)get you by withmeornotatall/ @chronicowboy (Temporary Amnesia | 6K | General): buck hits his head, forgets the past month and suddenly eddie has a secret girlfriend... right?

you're my whole house by hammersmiths / @henswilsons (Getting Together, PTA Eddie | 12K | Teen): Eddie shrugs. “Christopher mentioned to Daniel that Buck and I are partners. I mean, sure, it’s a little weird that she invited him over as well, but—” “Partners,” Hen interrupts, “like work partners?” Eddie and Buck glance at each other. “Uh, yeah?” Eddie says. “What other type of partner?” Hen stares at them for a moment, before she bursts out laughing. “You dumbasses. She thinks you’re together.” or, Eddie joins the PTA.

I can't love you any more (than I do now) by wikiangela/ @wikiangela (Didn't Know They Were Dating | 2K | General): Eddie's pretty sure he and Buck are dating and kind of living together. Neither acknowledges it, until Eddie finally does.

Tell me where you wanna go by allyasavedtheday/ @littlespoonevan (Post-S6E11: In A Flash | 4K | Teen): Buck wakes up from his coma and Eddie offers him a passenger seat and a couch and a home.

🔥 Autocowrecked by HMSLusitania/ @hmslusitania (Miscommunication | 2K | Teen): Eddie is never, ever using the talk-to-text function on his phone. Ever again.

[cherrychilli]

Do over

Part 3 of Caught

Steve Harrington x Hopper! Reader smut, AFAB reader

Summary: Hopper finds out that you’ve been dating Steve Harrington in secret and you’re both left to deal with the aftermath of your father's unfortunate discovery.

A/N: This little series was so much fun to write. Thanks to everyone who liked, reblogged, commented and asked to be tagged. Hope you all enjoy the conclusion!

Warnings: NSFW, Minors DNI, breeding kink, P in V sex, unprotected sex, creampie, dirty talk, pussy spanking, slight daddy kink

Wordcount: 4.8k

Not proofread

“Hopper’s daughter? Are you insane? Like, actually, clinically insane?”

The full body shock is immediate as Robin begins to pace rapidly back and forth, running her hands through her frazzled hair disbelievingly while her eyes double in size and her mouth hangs agape.

It was big news. Steve knew that and if it wasn’t such an urgent problem he would have allowed her more time to wrap her mind around his bombshell of an admission.

“Yeah yeah- enough of that- what do you think I should do? I mean, I can’t just go over there without a plan. I need to map something out. And quick! before he thinks I’m trying to hide”

But it’s no use, his impatient plea falls on deaf ears because she’s still reeling.

“A dead man- I’m talking to a dead man right now”, she rambles to herself before turning on her heal to begin pacing in the opposite direction.

Steve sighs defeatedly, realizing that he can’t rush her into a more coherent state.

This time with more patience, he attempts in a softer tone like one might with a particularly anxious toddler, “alright, why don’t you just take these in the back- get this all out of your system and then come back and help me, please”. He places a stack of newly returned tapes in her arms and directs her towards the back room with a hand pressed gently against her back. Somehow, she manages to find her way despite her unfocused gaze and her repetitive utterances of “I can’t believe this – I just believe this” while shaking her head from side to side.

Getting caught with you, especially in the way that it had happened, by your father, the Chief of Police was...not ideal. But Steve was determined. He cared for you and he needed to make it clear to Hopper that you weren’t some girl he was using for sex.

Steve returns to the counter and fishes out his wallet, in desperate need of a pick me up.  Flipping it open, a smile tugs at his lips as he looks down at a picture of the two of you together. Your ‘first date’. The picture was taken at the photo booth two months ago when you’d ran into each other at the county fair. You both knew the other was going to be there with your respective groups of friends – there’d been so much tension between the two of you during the weeks leading up to the fair. Very ‘will they won’t they’ as cliché as it sounded. You’d had your first kiss together that night too. Steve remembers how demure you seemed in your pretty dress as the two of you walked by the tree line, away from your friends and away from the rest of the crowd. Everyone was too preoccupied to notice the way you both looked at each other or the fact that you’d wandered off to be alone. He’d wanted to kiss you so badly but held off thinking it might be too soon.

Everyone had this idea in their heads about you. They all treated you like you were made of glass and the last thing Steve had wanted that night was to scare you off by being too forward.  But there was another side to you and that was the night he caught his first glimpse. He was in the middle of relaying a story – something funny Dustin had done – and it wasn’t that you were disinterested in hearing it. You liked hearing how fondly he spoke of the younger boy. You found it incredibly sweet how their unlikely friendship came to be but there was a pressing matter on your mind and you couldn’t resist any longer. Your hands reached out to grasp at the front of Steve’s shirt as you pulled him down for a sudden kiss. It was unexpected but he melts into it quickly, remembering everything from the sound of the fireworks going off in the distance, to the taste of cotton candy on your lips.

“I’m sorry, I just couldn’t wait anymore”, you’d said when you finally parted for air.

He realized you weren’t nearly as fragile as people thought you to be.

Quickly checking over his shoulder to make sure Robin hadn’t shuffled back in yet, Steve carefully pulls the picture free from behind the little plastic display to sneak a peek at the one he’d hidden underneath. It was one of the pictures he had taken of you yesterday. He couldn’t resist – he had to have one with him while he kept the others hidden away in his room. Your face wasn’t in it- he’d promised you he’d be careful. It was a shot of your body – stretched out on his bed, still clad in your lacy underwear and peppered with fresh hickeys.

He can feel his cock begin to stir in his pants and he knows better than to get hard at work but he can’t help but let his eyes linger a few moments longer. Who would have known just by looking at you that this was what you’d been getting up to in secret.

Steve’s so busy admiring every curve of your body that he doesn’t take immediate notice when the front door swings open. No one really came in at this hour – kids were supposed to be in school and the adults were usually at work right about now. When he does finally look up it feels like he’s just stepped off the edge of a cliff, wallet slipping from his fingers and landing on the opposite side of the counter.

Jesus, Fuck

Hopper’s mirthless, raging face looms over him, his stare alone somehow willing Steve into fearful submission.

The fear intensifies when Steve’s eyes dart down momentarily to realize that his wallet’s landed right beside Hopper’s boots – thankfully, picture side down.

Steve’s mouth’s completely dry and all he can hear is the sound of his own blood coursing in his ears. Jim Hopper was a big man, by anyone’s standards. Big enough to make even the most arrogant drunk think twice about picking a fight with him. Right now, he seemed impossibly big. Almost mountainous, even.

The look on Hopper’s face told Steve everything he needed to know and now all the boy could do was wait. With no one around to see, there was no way the Chief wouldn’t swing. Right?

He clearly wanted to. What father wouldn’t?

God, this is going to fucking hurt…

“This is major. Huge! There’s no way he won’t kill you, I mean really- “

Like a godsend, Robin strides back towards the counter, only cutting herself off when she sees who’s walked into the store.

Steve takes his first breath since Hopper showed up, relief washing over him. A witness!

He eyes Robin from where he’s frozen in place, a mix of helplessness and desperation evident on his face.

She knew she needed to do something to help her friend from getting his face caved in. Despite being the one who hadn’t messed around with Hopper’s daughter, she struggles to maintain a calm cadence, croaking out a very nervous, “Hey Chief, here to check out the new releases?” to distract him.

Steve’s nothing but thankful for her awkward but sincere effort to break the dangerous tension mounting in the store but Hopper ignores her altogether to turn back to him.

“Whatever you think I might do to you if I ever see you near my daughter again is nothing compared to what I’ll actually do to you, understand?”

Steve nods quickly. Even if he wasn’t afraid for his life he knew there was no convincing Hopper of anything right now. There was no room to carefully explain or reason. There was barely any room to breathe. He’d have to plead his case later.

With one last ire fueled stare at Steve he turns to leave, eyes briefly skimming over Steve’s wallet on the floor before stomping out of the store.

Robin cautiously inches over to Steve, eyes trained on the door, wondering if Hopper might just change his mind and come back.

“Are you okay?”, she finally asks.

“Ask me again in an hour”, he replies weakly, blood yet to return to his pale face.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

You knew this was hard for your father. He had trusted you and you had lied. You should have been honest from the start. Sure, he wouldn’t have been crazy about the idea of his daughter dating Steve Harrington but if you hadn’t tried to hide your relationship and instead, had explained how happy Steve made you, things might have turned out differently.

“He won’t be bothering you again”, was what Hopper said to you when he came back home that morning. You hadn’t even realized he’d been gone. You’d accidentally slept in late, exhausted from having cleaned up your father’s mess last night and your many futile and tearful attempts at trying to convince him that Steve wasn’t the kind of boy he thought he was.

Hopper seemed pleased with himself, having scared the shit out of your boyfriend with not more than a look and a single warning. Instantly, you knew what he’d done and now it was your turn to start yelling. It goes on for hours – you, trying to make it clear that he had no right trying to decide who you can and can’t date and him, trying to shoutexplain that he’d done it for your own good because according to him, all Steve wanted to do was take advantage of you.

“If he’s such a good guy, why didn’t he try to explain himself this morning?!”, Hopper boomed

“You probably didn’t give him the chance! All you do is intimidate!” you shot back defiantly

“He was corrupting you- I needed to keep that pervert away!” he retaliated.

Frustrated and well beyond your limit, you angrily tread to your bedroom and slam the door behind you, locking yourself inside before burying yourself underneath your blankets. It infuriated you. You’re an adult now but this was Jim Hopper. As long as you’re under his roof, he still calls the shots.

You avoid Hopper the next day. Only coming out of your bedroom when you hear the cruiser pull way as he leaves for work. You use that time to fix yourself something to eat and wonder around the cabin, wracking your brain for solutions before going right back inside when you hear him return in the evening.

Hopper can’t find it in himself to apologize because he doesn’t think he’s done anything wrong. The way he sees it, some handsy boy treated you with less respect than you deserved and there was no way he was about to let that continue. But at the same time, he couldn’t stand to have you mad at him.

You’re the only person he’d ever even attempt to make peace with after a bitter fight. He’s just about to knock on your door when the phone begins to ring. With an irritated huff he walks away from your door to answer it. He sighs again, rubbing at his temple as he listens to the caller on the line. “Alright, I’ll be right there”, he grunts back and hangs up the receiver. Grabbing his keys, he’s about to head to the cruiser but he decides to try reaching out to you one more time before he leaves.

He knocks gently against your door. No response. It hurts because he knows that you’re up and not actually asleep – he’d seen your shadow from under the door not very long before the phone had started to ring. Carefully softening his tone, he starts, “Honey…I have to head out again- there’s some sort of commotion down Marley Street- house party that got out of hand – some little sh- someone set a couch on fire and it spread- it’s a mess and I have to get down there”. No response still. “I might be out a while so keep the doors locked…I’ll be back as soon as I can”. Hopper turns to leave but the sound of your room door being unlocked has him whipping back around. You crack open your door just a couple of inches and his face drops when he sees your eyes all red and your cheeks puffy from crying all day. He may not be the calmest person around or the easiest person to reason with but you knew he had done what he did because he cared about you. You didn’t like being mad at him either knowing that it hurt him too. “Be careful, dad”, you reply softly. He smiles back tenderly. “Thanks, hun”. You both part a little somberly but hopeful that the next time you talk, you’re more likely to reach an understanding than another screaming match. You both just needed some time to cool off first.

You decide to clean yourself up with a nice hot shower when you hear the cruiser take off. Returning from the bathroom you remember that you hadn’t been able to call Steve the day before – too busy and exhausted from all the yelling. You dial and wait. When he doesn’t answer fresh tears start to emerge. You try to tell yourself that maybe he’s out with Robin right now but part of you worries that Hopper had managed to get to him with his threats and that he was avoiding your call on purpose. You put the phone back down, sick of listening to it ring.

You retreat under your blankets again, ready to softly cry yourself to sleep and let the cycle repeat itself.  You’re about 3 minutes into it when a sudden series of taps against your window make you still your breath. You’re alone. It’s dark. And now you’re very, very scared.

You’re just about ready to scream bloody murder when you recognize the face peering through your bedroom window.

“Steve!”

You throw the blankets off yourself and practically sprint to your window, smiling so hard it almost hurts.

“He’s gone, right?”, he whispers cautiously when you unlatch the window and open it for him.

“He left about 30 minutes ago- something about a fire down Marley Street”, you beam despite the context of the news you’re relaying.

“I saw – I drove past it on my way home from work- probably Jake Ramsey’s fault. That guy’s always passing out flaming shots.” He crawls through your window and straightens out before continuing. “No one got hurt but the whole place is a mess. Drunk kids all out on the lawn, fire department was called. Pretty big – I knew they’d call your dad in and that meant you’d be alone so…”

You throw your arms around him and squeeze, “I tried calling and when you didn’t answer…I’m so glad you’re here”, you mumble into his chest.

“I never went home, babe. I just drove straight here”, he replied, hugging you back with a reassuring squeeze.

You crane your neck back to look up at him, “My dad didn’t scare you off?”

Steve suppresses a nervous laugh at that. Hopper did scare him. Almost effortlessly so but he decides to leave that part out when cups your face with his palm, thumb stroking your cheek lovingly. “Not enough to keep me away from you”, he replies honestly.

He leans down to meet your waiting lips, kissing you softly. It’s a tender, sweet moment but it slowly changes into something more needy when you purposely press your chest up against his and one of his hands trail down to glide along the curve of your ass over your sleep shorts, squeezing your flesh before breaking the kiss to suck at your neck.

“You never got to tell me over the phone- how exactly did he find out?” he makes out against your skin.

“Left a stupid notebook behind in the car- he drove back to the center to give it to me- Loretta told him I didn’t work there”, you reply, eyes fluttering shut.

“Oh?”

“But he didn’t realize yet that it was me he’d caught you with that night- he thought you’d been going around with some other girl- stringing me along during the day- probably didn’t think I’d ever put out for anyone”

Steve scoffs. “Course he didn’t. The Chief of Police’s daughter? Little innocent thing like you? You’d have to be a fucking loon to try and get under her panties”, he pulls at your waistband playfully and lets it snap against your skin.

You giggle before replying. “Remember when we started by using condoms?”, you card your fingers through his hair, occasionally pulling at the soft brown locks when he latches on to a particularly sensitive spot.

“Can’t remember a thing before you let me slip inside without one, babe” he nips at your earlobe.

You blushed remembering the first time you’d done it without one.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

You’d planned it to be a surprise. You didn’t tell Steve that you’d gotten on the pill yet, deciding that you wanted to have a little fun with him first. You tried to contain yourself as you watched him roll on the condom that day before you began to ride him in his bedroom. You staved off your own orgasm until you could tell he was getting close by the way his abdomen clenched and the grip he had on your thighs would tighten. “Stevie, this isn’t working” you’d whined in faux frustration as you ceased bouncing on his cock. You almost felt bad when worry washed over his face and he sprung up from his pillow to look at you face to face. “What’s the matter, angel? need me to be on top?”, voice full of concern.

“it’s not that- I’m just tired of not getting to feel you”, you pouted back.

“Baby, I’m literally inside you right now”, he let out a short disbelieving laugh.

“that’s not what I mean” you pull yourself off of his cock, letting it slip from your hole.

“I need this off- It’s getting in the way”, you point at the condom curled over his dick before you begin pulling it free from his length.

You enjoyed the dumbfounded look on his face a little too much as you tossed the latex aside and held on to his shaft, making a show of rubbing his bare cock along your slick pussy. “Oh, Steve, that feels so good”, you moan out, aiming his tip at your clit and pressing the two very sensitive areas together. 

“Shit- baby, hold on-“

You’re not deterred, you can feel how badly he’s tempted to let you ride him raw but you anticipate his hesitation all the same.

“But Stevie, imagine how good it would feel”,  you whine back. It’s downright cruel the way you’re teasing him right now but you can rest easy knowing that the torture you’re putting him through is going to be well worth it-and he’d agree.

“Sweetheart- fuck- it’s not that I don’t want to, it’s really not that”, he chokes out

“Please, Steve? I wanna feel all of you”

His resolve is crumbling by the second. “Baby, maybe we should wait until you get on the pill? You know,uh be safe?”, he sounds barely convinced by his own reasoning, phrasing everything like a question.

“So, you’ll fuck me without one if I get on the pill?”, you purr back teasingly to clarify.

The truth was he wanted to fuck you without it and you knew it.

“Yeah baby, I’ll give it to you just how you want it”, he strains.

You pretend to look thoughtful for a moment before shrugging your shoulders with contented smile. “Mm, alright”, you hum back innocently.

His breath hitches when instead of releasing his throbbing dick, you raise your hips and line up his cock with your entrance, pushing down until he sinks all the way inside.

You both moaned at the feeling. Your tight warmth envelopes his dick and you can feel every ridge and inch of it pulsing inside you.

“Fuck fuck fuck – did you- when??”, he chokes out, barely coherent but you knew exactly what he’s asking.

“Last week”, you moan out, a satisfied smile stretching across your face.

“Surprise”

He didn’t last much longer without it but it didn’t matter. You liked knowing the kind of effect your pussy had on him. And he made it up to you 15 minutes later. Thrice.

━─━────༺༻────━─━

You let the memory fade away when he works a hand between your bodies to rub over your clothed cunt.

“W-well- there was one left over. I left it inside the notebook- completely forgot about it- slipped out right in front of him- that’s when he put it all together”, you force out in a whine.

Steve stills his hand over your mound, pulling away from your neck to look down at you with concern.

“So, he knows I’ve been fucking you raw?”

“No…, I don’t think so- he never found my birth control pills”

Steve’s expression relaxes for a moment before he eyes you up and down suggestively. “Hm. Too bad.”

Your eyebrows shoot up at this. “’Too bad’? Isn’t our situation bad enough?”

He only smirks before returning to mouthing at your neck, slipping both hands underneath your shirt to give your breasts some attention.

“How pissed do you think he’d get if I knocked you up?”, he breathes against your ear.

The questions catches you off guard and you don’t know what to say because you’re too busy trying to process the way his words have begun to make your pussy throb.

“If I put a baby in you- got you all nice and big”, he squeezes your tits with both hands for emphasis,

“- couldn’t hide it then- then he’d know- everyone would know”

You let a moan slip at that, dragging your cunt along his thigh for some relief.

“That what you want, baby? Really stick it to your old man if I got you pregnant right under his own roof”

Your head’s swimming but you still manage to whisper-shout back at him, “Steve! We’re too young”

He chuckles, “I know that- I mean eventually”.

“I can tell you want it too” his eyes flick down to where your shorts have begun to turn damp against his jeans.

You see it too and you’re too far gone now to try and deny it.

“Fuck- please just fuck me before he gets back”, you finally give in.

Your shirt lay discarded in the corner of your room and your nipples throb faintly with the memory of how he’d played with and sucked them moments ago, leaving them all pert and puffy. You’re all spread out on your bed underneath Steve, a shaking whimpering mess and he hasn’t even fucked you yet.

“Stevie, please hurry- can’t let him catch us again”

“You know, if you weren’t so busy thinking with this” he brings his open palm down on your clothed clit with just enough pressure to make you yelp, “we wouldn’t be in this mess”.

You relish his faux admonishment. You both know that the two of you share the blame in getting caught but he isn’t wrong. You’d been so needy for him and he liked chiding you for it.

“Needed my cock that bad, angel?” he brings his hand down on your delicate folds again.

“That why you left the condom in your notebook? Smart girl like you- you know better than that”

Smack

“So forgetful…mind all blank now that your pretty little pussy’s being used?”

Smack

“All those years without anyone to touch you and now- “

Smack

“You can’t get enough of it”

“Steeeeve”, you draw out in a desperate whine.

He ignores your plea, “Jesus, how can you sleep in these damn things, they’re so tight. I can see every part of you”.

You’d outgrown this particular pair of shorts a while back. You could still fit into them but he was right, they looked like a second skin on you. He ogles the outline of your cunt through the pale purple cotton and your face warms up when he pinches your pussy lips together. You wiggle your hips and that earns you another slap.

“Take them off- panties too”, he commands.

You do as your told, shimmying both off before he’s forcing you back on your bed with your thighs spread.  

He doesn’t say much this time, instead busying himself by landing several hits directly onto your naked cunt until your clit’s all swollen and your labia’s all pink from the impact. You can hear how wet you’ve become with every smack and he just tuts at the sight between your legs.

“So impatient…”, he lets out in a low groan, inspecting your arousal by rubbing your slippery slick between his thumb, index and middle fingers.

The way your thighs twitch and tremble with every slap isn’t lost on him. He’s confident that he could probably get you to cum from this alone and he’s so tempted to do just that but you’re right. As much as he wants to take the time to put his theory to the test, he doesn’t want to risk another encounter with your father just yet.

He brings his hand between your legs again, this time gently rubbing soothing circles into your abused little bud.

“Want me to make it feel better, baby?”, he coos.

Your chest rises and falls with labored breaths as you nod affirmatively, eyes all watery.

He picks you up and carries you away from the bed, sitting you down on the edge of your desk instead. Your college brochures tumble to the floor and your neat little pile of transcripts tip over and messily fan out behind you.

Your legs fall open as he impatiently sheds his clothing too.

Taking one last moment to tease you, he taps the head of his cock against your aching clit until you choke out a pathetic ‘please’.

He takes pity on you then and you both watch as he finally pushes it in, savouring the stretch.

It’s going to be quick and rough, you both know it but you still gasp when he pulls back far enough to begin driving his cock into you in a hurried pace. You can feel yourself beginning to gush, eyes rolling back as you chant his name again and again. Pens and paperclips rattle and roll off your desk, a mess of stationary littering your bedroom floor.

You’re so cockdrunk your unfocused gaze eventually lands on the framed picture at the corner of your desk. You and your father, his arm wrapped around your shoulder and you leaning in close to him as you smile for the picture. Your arm shoots out to turn the picture face down – his face is the last thing you want to see while you’re getting railed and you don’t need another reminder of how pissed he’d be if he knew you were seeing Steve in secret again – in his own house even.

Steve notices your expression and laughs, low and a little dark. “Forget him, baby, I’m your daddy now”.

He picks you up by the waist and you gasp. You’re forced to support yourself with your palms planted flat on your desk behind you and your arms extended. Your legs immediately wrap around Steve’s waist for stability and you’re left to hold on as he grips your ass and begins pounding into you, much harder than before. You squeal at the intensity, desk creaking dangerously beneath you while your tits bounce on your chest.

Your arms ache from having to support your weight but your building orgasm soon captures your complete attention.

“Getting close, angel?”, he grits out with a smirk

“So-so close, daddy”, you pant back out.

Steve groans approvingly when you say it, and he can tell that you like it too because your cunt clenches around him like a vice.

“Daddy, I’m-“ you let your head fall back as the coil in your abdomen snaps and your orgasm ripples through you. Your silky walls clamp sporadically around Steve’s cock and he rests his forehead against your shoulder as he spills into you with a deep grunt, driving into you with short, hard thrusts until he has nothing left to give.

Somehow, you’ve managed to keep your arms outstretched but they start to wobble and he notices, easing you down onto the surface of your desk and pulling out to watch his spend flow back out of your hole. Cum seeps out of you and leaks directly onto your half-completed college application forms but you’re too blissed out to really care. You’ll gladly pick up another set of papers when the feeling starts to return to your trembling legs.

You stare at each other, eyes half lidded, sweaty and panting.

Steve’s the one to break the momentary silence when he reaches out to frame your face with his palm again. 

“I wanna be with you- no more sneaking around. I know he won’t like it at first but let’s be upfront with him. Make him understand”.

Your chest blossoms with adoration and you blush under his affectionate stare.

 “Maybe at dinner? This Friday? I’ll pick a place” you offer, still a little breathless.

 “Yeah” he smiles back at you warmly.

“Some place that gets packed, alright?" he adds.

And then a tinge more seriously so that you understand what he means. “Witnesses, you know?”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

Could you please do a fic where Steven and Mike from strangled red meet a reader from another region (preferably one with fairy type pokemon) and the two are either terrified or confused about the reader's pokemon, leading to them asking the reader questions like: "why does your pokemon look like that?" "What even is a fairy type?" And all that jazz

The moment I saw this request, the first fairy pokemon that came to mind was Klefki! So that'll be the chosen one <3

........

"Dude, why is your keyring so-?"

"Kiiii!!"

"Huh?!!" Mike took a huge step back, eyes widening as the large keyring hanging beside your door suddenly came to life. It lifted itself off the hook and did a little twirl, smiling at the dumbfounded brunette in front of it.

"Uh-"

"Klefki! What did I say about pranking our guests, hm?"

Hearing your voice, Klefki perked up and flew away from Mike, floating over to where you and Steven stood in the living room. You had just finished showing him your collection of badges, but the sight of your partner Pokémon startled him.

"What did you say that was..?" The longhaired trainer blinked.

"Klefki. The Keyring Pokémon." You introduced, turning to see it raise one appendage and hand you a key. "Thank you very much. You know, you're less stingy than usual today. I'll get you some pokepuffs after-"

"Wait, that's a Pokémon??"

"....is it really that shocking to you guys? Your region has Pokémon who look like eggs and pokeballs." Chuckling, you turned back to the two brothers who seemed so fixated on the levitating keyring--before they suddenly began scrambling to open their pokedexes, hoping there wasn't a sudden update they needed to catch up on.

"No. You two aren't missing anything."

They paused, now staring up at you.

"Klefki is originally from Kalos. You won't find them in those regional Kanto pokedexes."

Both of them blinked in realization, as though lightbulbs have simultaneously turned on upstairs before they bashfully put away their dexes. "Right, I forgot.." Steven awkwardly mumbled. "That's cool, though."

"Here. I got my regional Kalos dex." You decided to show them both Klefki's entry, letting the former champion take it into his hands while Mike leaned in closer to take a look.

All the while, you stood there patiently, amused at how their eyebrows furrowed as they read its description. They were acting like Pokémon researchers who just made a phenomenal discovery.

Then finally, after a long silence, Steven looked up at you.

"There's a "fairy" type? Is that a new thing?"

"It was the most recently-discovered type, but that was..........wait, you've never heard of them?" You blinked, seeing that his older brother had an equally confused expression. "Don't tell me that you, Kanto's first recorded champions, have never seen or battled a fairy type Pokémon in your life."

"........"

"........"

"What about Clefairy?"

"....that's a normal type according to our pokedexes." Mike frowned. "Is it a regional thing or-?"

"No, I...I'm working on my national dex. And it clearly states it's a fairy type." You huffed, realizing that these two poor uncultured souls didn't have a clue what you were talking about.

With a small sigh, you decided to sit on the couch, patting either side of you. "Come here, boys. I'm about to teach you allllll about fairy types. Because there's a lot you two need to catch up on if you wanna be "pokemon masters".

They both nodded and sat down, listening to your explanations about what fairy type Pokémon were, what they typically looked like, their weaknesses/strengths, etc.. You even presented them with the fairy feather you let Klefki hang onto.

Steven's eyes periodically wandered to your partner, who was noisily jingling its keys and grinning at him.

"So Steven...do you have any questions?"

"H-Huh? Oh, uh...yeah.." Snapping his attention back to you, he fidgeted with his hat. "You're saying its type advantages and disadvantages are all.....based off of fairytale stories?"

"Precisely." You nodded. "Fairies are strong against dark because they're typically good, and like the fighting type they triumph over evil."

"But they're also weak to fire because....?"

"Fire typically burns down their forests, but it's not one of their weaknesses. Fire Pokémon just resist Fairy Pokémon." Out of the corner of your eye, you noticed Mike sheepishly raising his hand. "Yes, Mikey?"

"....you lost me on why steel types are supereffective against them.." He admitted with a nervous chuckle.

"In most myths, iron harms fairies because they're manmade material."

"....gotcha...wow.." Flopping back onto the couch, he sighed dramatically, trying to absorb all this information you've told them. "I mean, it's awesome that more Pokémon types are being discovered, but....dang...it's gotten more complicated, too."

"Yeah." Steven nodded, mimicking his posture. Although a moment later, he sat up and looked at you. "[Y/n]...you said fairies were supereffective against dragon types, right?"

"Correct." You nodded, wondering where he was going with this.

"...is Miki secretly a fire/dragon instead of fire/flying?" His eyes narrowed in suspicion and worry. "Because if I ever battle your Klefki, that might be a-"

"No, I can assure you that in every region Charizard is fire/flying....although some trainers have the mega stone called Charizardite X that could turn theirs into a fire and dragon type instead-"

"The Charizardwhat???" He gawked.

To that, all you could do was sigh and shake your head, becoming more amused by the second at how much the brothers didn't know. You felt like a Pokémon Professor at this rate.

'Oh jeez..I'll be here for a while..'

[samcrosfaith]

A LITTLE LOST 𝟬𝟮| 𝙪𝙣𝙨𝙚𝙩𝙩𝙡𝙞𝙣𝙜 𝙣𝙚𝙬𝙨

Happy Lowman x fem!oc

You can find the introduction chapter and chapter one here, just click on it. You can also find them, and all the future chapters, in my masterlist {pinned post!}

Let me know if you wanna be tagged in future chapters!

a/n; I promise Happy will finally appear in the next chapter. I just had to get this story started in a somewhat logical way. I hope you enjoy! 🤎

word count; 2900

IT WAS TWO DAYS LATER, two days after Juice and Jax made a horrifying discovery, when four speechless men stood across the street from the burger restaurant, shock and fascination etched into their faces.

"Shit man, that's creepyᅳ and it takes a lot to freak me out", Tig spoke first, his hands prepped on his hips, eyes covered by dark sunglasses. "Death seems prettier than everᅳI'd definitely tap that."

"What the hell, man?" Jax' face twisted in disgust, he snapped his head to the side to glare at Tig. "It's still Hap's Old Lady, have some respect."

"Did he ever have respect?" Juice asked from the left, a sigh leaving his lips. But for a brief moment the slightest grin crossed his features. "I don't think he knows the word respect when there's someone with two legs and a hole he could use."

"Hey, we don't talk about women like that." Tig smacked the back of Juice' head, shaking his head as if he hadn't started it. "Have some respect."

"Boys, enough", Chibs' thick Scottish accent interrupted the little teasing game, earning a grateful look from Jax as his serious gaze landed on the three men. "What d' we do now? Go inside and talk t' her? Juicy? Did ye' check her records?"

"I did", the Puerto Rican nodded, not exactly enthusiastically as he tilted his head to the side. "No one by the name of Josephine Lowman works hereᅳ but a Josephine O'Connell."

"That's her maiden name", Jax thought aloud, rubbing a hand down his face as he let out a deep sigh. "What the hell is this? She was declared dead. Hell, Happy saw her, checked for himself because he didn't believe the doctors."

"Since she's officially declared dead, tha' explains why she uses her maiden name", Chibs also thought out loud, crossing his arms over his chest as he stared thoughtfully through the large window into the burger restaurant, still fascinated by watching someone who was actually dead. "We need t' find out how that's possible, what really happened t' Josy."

"How? We can't just ask her", Juice stated matter-of-factly, uncertainty flashing in his brown eyes. All he wanted was to talk to Josy, to hug his very much alive best friend, to tell her how glad he was that she was still here. "Besides, I can't believe she would ever do this to Happy; letting him suffer and allᅳ that's not like her at all."

"Well, she didn't recognize me, which means she must've suffered some kind of memory loss", which was the only logical explanation in Jax' eyes.

"Or she just faked her death", Tig said dryly as he took off his sunglasses, shrugging his shoulders. "We're going in there now and talk to her."

"Tig!" Jax called after the man, but the man with the black curls was too determined and already halfway across the street, which gave the others no choice and practically forced them to follow him, which all three did with a shake of their heads.

The bell above the door rang as the four bikers entered the restaurant and attracted different glances. Glances that they had long been used to. They looked around carefully until Josy finally appeared, with a sweet smile on her lips that everyone could still remember.

"I know why Hap fell in love with her", said Chibs, without sounding creepy in any way. It was no secret how beautiful Josy was.

"Yeah, she really was a jackpot", Juice agreed wistfully, clearing his throat as he awkwardly rubbed the back of his neck. "Or still is..apparently."

It was so strange to see the young woman alive, and yet it was a huge relief, a shock in a good way.

As the four men stood in the middle of the restaurant, still considering how exactly they should address Josy, she was already heading towards the small group, her eyebrows furrowed.

"Can I help you?", she asked, polite as always. "If you're looking for a table, I can offer you one over there", she added, spinning around to point to the free table.

"You can help us, darlin'", Jax began, trying his best to hide his fascination as he spoke to the redhead. "Can you give us five minutes of your time? We have a few questions."

"Uh..Iᅳ I'm working right now." The redhead clutched the menu card to her chest, swallowing nervously. Why did four bikers want to talk to her? "Maybe our manager can help?"

"No, we need t' talk to ye', lass." Chibs stepped forward and placed a reassuring hand on Josy's shoulder, but removed it quickly when the young woman tensed up. "Sorry, sweetheart", he apologized sincerely. "We just have t' figure somethin' out, ye' know? It won't take more than five minutes."

"We really don't want to cause any trouble, we just want to talk." Juice sent a warm smile in Josy's direction, also stepping a little closer. "Would you give us a moment?"

Somehow the redhead managed to relax at the younger man's smile but she didn't know why. But what she did know was that she should be much more intimidated, much more worried, about the fact that four men from a biker club wanted to talk to her.

Were they old clients from her dad? Maybe they had hired him as lawyer and her father managed to piss them off somehowᅳ which wouldn't be the first time Arthur had angered someone to the point they were seeking for some kind of revenge.

But if there was one thing Josy wasn't, it was judgmental. Her sweet nature, her kindness, would probably, hopefully, always stay a part of her.

"Okay", she said finally, exhaling loudly. Apparently it really did seem important and her curiosity was piqued. "Five minutes, that's all I can do."

"Thanks, lass", Chibs nodded sincerely, as did the other three men. "Maybe we should sit down for tha', I think tha' would be better for all of us."

As if everything wasn't confusing enough already, an uneasy feeling was now brewing in the pit of her stomachᅳ a strange feeling that she couldn't quite shake off.

Josy, her beautiful freckle-covered face framed by her ginger strands, nodded slightly before leading the small group to the free table in a quiet corner and waited until everyone had slid into the booth to take a seat.

Pulling a chair from another table, she placed it in front of the table and slowly plopped down onto it, asking her colleague, who had just scurried past with a slightly confused look, to take over her tasks for a moment.

"Are you okay?", asked the brunette, her voice lowered as she placed a protective hand on Josy's shoulder.

"She's fine, doll", Tig winked with his typical smirk while his eyes checked out the beautiful woman. "I'd feel even better if you sat down too."

"Tig", Jax warned, glaring at the man once again. "Not now."

"Creep", the brunette scoffed; in contrast to Josy, she had a quick tongue.

Clearly amused, Tig raised his hands in the air. "I'm sorry, doll, sometimes I can't keep my mouth shut when I see a pretty face."

"Oh my God, here we go", Juice muttered under his breath, only able to shake his head at Tig's boldness.

"That's enough", Chibs grumbled, a certain vibration in his voice as he saw how uncomfortable and uncertain Josy's expression suddenly seemed. "I'm sorry, lass. My friend here can't control himself sometimes."

"It's okay", the redhead murmured before giving her colleague and friend a reassuring look. "I'm okay, thanks Summer."

"Good." The brunette shot the men a warning look, each and every one of themᅳ although she sheepishly tucked a strand of hair behind her ear at the Puerto Rican, who gave her an apologetic smile before her features turned hard again and she was pointing a scolding finger at them. "Keep your hands to yourself, all of you!"

Josy watched her friend with a small smile, grateful for her boldness, before she looked back at the men. "What could four bikers want from me? How about one of you finally gives me an explanation?"

"Nothing would please me more, darlin'," Jax winked as he shot her his signature smile, his broad shoulders sinking against the orange cushion of the seat. "Your name is Josephine, right?"

"You know my name?" Swallowing the forming lump in her throat, Josy shifted nervously in her seat. "How? I don't know any of you."

"Yes, yes ye' do, lass", Chibs explained with a sigh, his tone calm and reserved. Freaking her out even more wasn't what he wanted. "We know how absurd that sounds, and we'll understand if ye' throw us out in a minute, but give us a chance t' explain everythin', aye?"

"This is getting really weird, I hope you know that", the young woman uttered as she crossed her arms. "What do you want from me?"

"You died a little over one and a half year ago. At least that's what we thought." Tig dropped the bomb before they could make the woman any more nervous, empathy in his tone as he spoke. "And you were married to one of our brothersᅳ that's why we're here."

"I know this sounds crazy", Jax said immediately, his hands resting on the surface of the white table as a frown took over his face. "But it's the truth. At least if you're Josephine O'Connell, born in Roseville on October 10th, 1984. Is that right?"

Josy's lips opened and closed so many times that she would probably get a jaw cramp later, but not once did she utter a word. Instead, an almost hysterical-sounding chuckle slipped past her lips, a sea of emotion pooling in her eyes.

"And you are the mother of a one-year-old girl", Juice explained calmly, sympathy in both his voice and his eyes as he could see the deep shock cross Josy's face. "Well, she's one and a half now, looks just like you. Same red hair and all", he added with a beaming smile. "Her name's Esmee."

"Stop..please..", Josy whispered, sheer horror in her eyes as she listened to the words they were saying. "This has to be a bad joke. A sick, fucked up joke."

Suddenly her chest felt tight, as if someone was squeezing it. Her heart was beating so hard against her ribcage that she could feel it in her throat while the blood rushed through her veins faster than ever before, sending a feeling of dizziness to her head.

"We wish it was just a bad joke, believe me." Jax leaned over the table a little as he was the one sitting closest to Josy. The redhead looked as if she was about to pass out, so Jax put a strong hand against her arm just in case. "Are you okay? Is there anything we can do?"

Her head snapped up, astonished and partly speechless, she stared at the blonde man. "You wanna know if I'm okay?"

The hysterical laughter that sounded from the back of her throat sent a chill down the guys' spines. "You didn't seriously just ask me that, did you?"

"Josy", Juice began, trying to grab Josy's hand from the other side of the table as the redhead's breath faltered and she slowly began to hyperventilate. But the girl pulled her hand back in fright, a film of tears now covering her eyes, shattering Juice' heart. "You have to believe us, please. We may do a lot of questionable things, but joking about things like thatᅳ that's not our style."

"Then why the hell am I here if I should be dead, huh?!", she choked out, her splayed fingers pressed against her chest as she tried to take deep breaths. "I would know if I was married and had a child! What kind of mother would forget about her own child?"

"Normally people don't, that's right", Jax noted with a sigh, feeling bad for the woman who seemed absolutely frightened and desperate. "You had an accident when you were pregnantᅳ you died, the baby, Esmee, was saved."

"Someone must've played us really good, after all you're sitting in front of us, no idea who we are", Tig continued as he leaned forward a little, his arms crossed on the table as his piercing blue eyes searched for Josy's. "And your husband is losing it the more time passes without you by his side."

"I can'tᅳ I can't believe this." The first tears rolled down her pale cheeks, which she quickly wiped away with her palms before shaking her head frantically and shooting up from her seat. Smoothing her apron, she exhaled shakily. "I had an accident, yes. And yes, I've been suffering from anterograde amnesia since it happened", she explained, the words practically bubbling out of her. "But this..", another hysterical laugh fell over her lips. "This is absolutely crazy."

"Who told ye' all of tha', lass? Who was there after you woke up?", Chibs asked urgently as he also stood up without getting too close to the redhead. She was already upset and frightened enough, almost seeming like a little deer without a mother. "Can ye' at least remember what happened after the accident?"

"My family, who else?" All of this was too much for her, her brain no longer able to process all the information that she didn't even know if it was true. "I'm sorry, Iᅳ I can't do this."

"Josy, please!" Jax was the first to grab Josy's arm, causing the young woman to defend herself and yank her arm out of his grasp before stumbling two steps backwards, which caught the attention of the other employees and guests.

"Don't touch me", the redhead snarled, which wasn't normally her style. But at the moment she was so overwhelmed that all she wanted to do was to run away. "Leave me alone, all of you. I don't know what kind of sick game this is, but play it with someone else!"

"You heard her", the brunette from before intervened after she had immediately rushed over to her clearly upset friend, her gaze stern and warning. "You better leave now before I get the managerᅳ or before I call the police."

"Alright." Jax threw his hands in the air with a sigh while Chibs scribbled something down on a napkin. "Come on guys, let's go."

There was no point in staying here. In hindsight, someone would actually call the cops and they didn't need that at the moment. After fourteen months inside, a police station was the last place they wanted to see right now. Maybe they would try again in a few days, outside the restaurant.

"It was nice to see you again though", Jax added sincerely, wistfulness in his blue eyes before he shoved his hands in his pockets and nodded the guys over.

"If ye' change yer' mind", Chibs shoved the napkin into the small pocket on Josy's apron, an almost fatherly smile grazing his lips. "That's the address of our clubhouseᅳ ye' can visit us there anytime."

Josy's body stiffened, the muscles under her skin slowly began to burn from all the tension. Still, she didn't miss how calm she became when the man with the scars on his face shot her that smile. It felt familiar, but she couldn't remember ever having seen the man before.

"We'd love to hear from you." Juice was also back on his feet by now, suppressing the urge to hug his best friend with all his might. Still, he gently bumped her shoulder with his as he walked past her, smiling at her. "It's a relief to know that you're alive."

Tig was the last to walk past the women, giving Josy a warm smile before winking at the brunette, Summer. "You can join her if your friend decides to come by."

"Jesus, you're not giving up, huh?" Slightly annoyed, the brunette rolled her eyes, comfortingly rubbing her friend's arm as she watched the four men reluctantly leave the restaurant. "What a bunch of freaks."

The guests forgot about the incident quicker than expected and went back to their food while business continued as normal. Summer, on the other hand, led Josy into one of the back rooms so her friend could have a quiet moment.

"Do you need something?", asked Summer, concern evident in her tone as Josy slowly sank into a chair. "Want me to call Debbie?"

"No, please don't", Josy answered quickly, not in the mood to have to explain all of this to her sister right now. "I'm okay, Summer. You can go back to work."

The brunette raised an eyebrow questioningly. "Are you sure?"

"Yes, thank you", Josy assured with a weak smile and a nod, watching her colleague leave the room with a shrug and a sigh.

Only then did Josy reach for the napkin in her apron and stare thoughtfully at the address. Maybe she should look into it. If there was any chance that there was any truth behind what the men had said, then she wanted to know. Above all, she wanted to know why her father and sister, who supposedly only wanted the best for her, had lied to her.

Maybe, just maybe, she would take a little trip to Charming this weekend.

[mehidktbh]

There's A First For Everything

Pairing: Mafia!Simon "Ghost" Riley x Fem!Reader

Summary: You find yourself surprised, shocked and all of the above with the recent discovery of that strange man working under the same business roof as you. But with your supervisor preoccupied, it's the mysterious consultant who steps in. He takes you under his wing, guiding you through the building.

Warning: A small mention of sex and intimacy

A/N: Getting back on that Tumblr grind after months of being off. Sorry about that and I apologise for the sudden drop in posting and this series cliffhanger. Back its back and improved with my more better writing improvement.

Taglist: @captainsbaby, @feedthefandoms995, @kyuupidwrites, @fatedeniedhope, @bangirl134, @blueoorchid, @iimfae, @a1nazzz, @motherofreposts, @emi-flaces, @liliumbosniacum, @whore-for-anime, @zeyzeys-stuff, @greenhornphotography, @ofmenanduhhhwellmen, @simonsslvt, @bunky101, @gisselleherrerposts, @natchayaphorn, @xdarkcreaturex, @theunknownartistsworld, @somelikeitmaat, @mxtokko

▻ Chapter 3 from the It’s Always Been You series ◅

Your heart pounded in your chest as you faced the reality that the mysterious man from the club was not only part of this enigmatic company but had a role that extended far beyond the dance floor. Mr. Riley, the man who had saved you from the clutches of danger, was deeply entwined with this organization.

Simon acknowledged the introduction with a nod, his expression giving nothing away. Those piercing blue eyes, which had held a hint of amusement when you two first met, his eyes ranked you up and down. He was like a wolf, picking out the things that you felt he could see made you squirm.

"Welcome, Y/N," he said, his tone neutral.

You nodded, struggling to find your voice. "Hello."

Mr. Reynolds, who had been observing the between you two interaction with an unreadable expression, suddenly stoped as he spoke. "I'm sure you have many questions, Y/N. But for now, let's focus on your role here. Mr. Riley will be your point of contact for any inquiries or assistance you may need."

Mr. Riley gave a curt nod, acknowledging his responsibility. "I'll do my best to ensure you settle in smoothly, Y/N."

With that, Mr. Reynolds excused himself, leaving you alone with Mr. Riley in the office. The weight of the situation bore down on you. As you watched Mr. Riley leaned against a nearby desk, studying you with a sudden and new hint of curiosity. "You seem surprised."

You took a deep breath, trying to steady your racing thoughts. "I am. I never expected… any of this."

He gave a wry smile, though there was a glint of something else in his eyes, something you couldn't quite decipher. "Life has a way of surprising us, Y/N."

As the minutes passed, Mr. Riley began to unravel the things of your new role, explaining the tasks and responsibilities that lay ahead. Despite the initial shock, his guidance put you at ease, and you found yourself drawn to his enigmatic presence.

"Sorry, but Mr. Riley-"

"Simon. Call me Simon."

His interruption was gentle, and his eyes held a hint of warmth as he corrected you. A strange mix of emotions bubbled within you - confusion, curiosity, and an unexplainable attraction to this enigmatic man. Simon Riley, the consultant.

You cleared your throat, feeling a nervous chuckle creeping up your throat at the realization that you were getting lost in his gaze. "Simon," you repeated, "I was wondering about my office and, well, where I'll be working."

Simon straightened, his posture commanding and confident. "Of course, Y/N. Follow me."

With that, he led the way out of Mr. Reynolds' office and into the corridor. The building's interior was a stark contrast to its unassuming exterior. Polished marble floors stretched beneath our feet, and the walls were adorned with sleek, modern artwork. As you two walked, Simon explained, "Your office is on the twenty-first floor, and it's ready for you. I've arranged a workspace that should suit your needs. I hope it meets your expectations."

You couldn't help but feel a twinge of excitement at the prospect of your own office, yet questions nagged at the edges of your mind. "A workspace?" At previous office jobs those who are new start from the ground up, a bathroom-sized cubicle and an even smaller office for your 'hard-earned' work you did for the business for ten-plus years.

Simon raised an eyebrow, a faint smirk playing on his lips. "Of course, I pulled some strings. I always aim for the best for newcomers like you."

As you and Simon reached the elevator, he pressed the button for the twenty-first floor. The ride-up was silent, but the tension in the confined space. When the elevator doors opened, you stepped out onto the twenty-first floor, and Simon led you down a corridor lined with identical wooden doors. Each door had a nameplate indicating its occupant.

Finally, you and he arrived at a door with your name neatly engraved on a nameplate. Simon opened it to reveal a tastefully decorated office with a large window offering a breathtaking view of the city. A sleek desk, a comfortable chair, and an assortment of office supplies awaited you.

You stepped inside, taking in the space that would soon become your sanctuary within this enigmatic building. "It's… perfect," you admitted, genuinely impressed.

Simon leaned against the doorframe, a hint of satisfaction in his eyes. "I'm glad you like it, Y/N. You'll find everything you need here." His gaze was like a caress, tracing the contours of your figure as you faced the expansive window that overlooked the sprawling city of Manhattan below. You were completely unaware of his secretive admiration of your tight shirt and unmatching heels. It gave him the feeling that you were cute to the picky eye of him.

As his eyes traced the lines of your fitted shirt and the unmatching yet oddly charming heels you wore. It was clear that he found your unconventional style appealing, a departure from the fake and bratty women he must have encountered in his world. The ones that throw themselves at him for a bit of his dick or just praise.

"Good luck on your first day, Y/N," he said, his voice low and intimate. With a faint, enigmatic smile, he closed the door. He was so quick to leave as if he realised he better leave before he did something embarrassing or regrettable. Yet only now do you turn around to drop an unheard "Bye" as he had already disappeared like the mysterious shadow he was down the hall. As you prepared for the new office day ahead.

Little did you know that Simon's fascination with you was growing into something far more powerful—an obsession that would shape the course of everything.

[lizzie-is-here]

lonely is a man without love

part iii- cairo

“i am a deserted sky, and you are the moonlight” - manoj muntashir

summary: you and marc head to cairo, and you make a shocking discovery in the form of a giant skeleton bird

wordcount: 4k

warnings: language, violence, vague references to the red room, drinking, slight pining, a saddening lack of steven

a/n: yuhhh posting this before my bday tomorrow so i can get crunk af. ALSO TAYLOR AND JOE? sobbing. but i hope y’all enjoy love y’all sm sm sm 🫶

taglist: @thefictionalgemini @ravenz-hope @undiscl0sed-d3sir3s @iateall-yourcookies @disregardedplant @sunflowers-4 @yellowumbrelllaaaa @bagsy-not-it @local-mr-frog @thescarletredwitch @jupitersmoon167 @creamecafe @stevenknightmarc @theluciansystem @kingtwhiddleston @spider-biter @mxltifxnd0m @sgt-morgan @no-dont-be-suspicious @onzayhe @namorslit @i-cant-write-for-shit

i’m sorry it won’t let me tag some of y’all 😭

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Marc pokes and prods for more intel on your profession the whole plane ride to Cairo.

Honestly, it’s more of a harsh interrogation at this point, with him making sure you aren’t working for any remnant of the Red Room that managed to stay alive. Once he’s satisfied and his temper cools, you explain why you were sent.

“Righteous” justice or not, he was a danger, killing random people all over Europe and shaking off hits that no normal person should be able to. And the team liked to keep tabs on enhanced beings.

“So the actual Avengers are worried about me? It’s not like I’m going after them,” he says.

You laugh, loud and obnoxious. “Worried? No, you misunderstand. It’s more of a public safety precaution. Just making sure all of our loose ends are tied.”

“Loose ends being…?”

“Hydra. The Red Room-“ You gesture to yourself. “Aliens. Things like that.”

“Yeah…” Marc says, hesitant. “‘Things like that’, sure.”

You lean over a bit, scanning the plane from your aisle seat to check for threats. All you see are tired passengers, dozing off or absorbed in the small TVs on the backs of the seats.

Once satisfied, you turn back to Marc.

“If you want to sleep, now’s a good time. Once we get to Cairo, we’re not going to have much time to rest,” you say, nodding to the TV. 3 hours away.

He eyes you, a bit suspiciously, but closes his eyes anyway. With a sigh, you stand up, snaking through the aisles to the bathroom. You grab your phone and tap a favorited contact.

“(Y/N)?”

“Tasha,” you greet. “Is it a bad time?”

Your friend shakes her head, holding up the phone to show the group. “We just finished a movie, what’s up?”

“So… Marc Spector is here. He has DID, and Steven Grant is an alter, not an alibi. Things are getting serious.”

She nods. “That explains a lot.” You’d been relaying your experiences to them for weeks, and they’d shared in your confusion. Her tone turns more stern. “How serious?”

“Cults, magic, something about a scarab? It’s out of my expertise.”

“Do you need backup?” Steve’s voice calls from the other side of the couch.

You shake your head. “No, it’s nothing I can’t handle. It’s just fucking weird.”

A chorus of laughter goes up on the other end of the phone and you smile, rolling your eyes when a knock lands on the bathroom door.

“I just wanted to update you. We’re heading to Cairo now, so…” You shrug. “I will maybe get some souvenirs.”

The knocking grows more incessant.

“Will you hold on? Your shits can wait!” you call. Turning your attention back to the phone, you sigh. “I’ve got to go. This person is going to kick the door down.”

Nat nods and mock-salutes you. “Have fun, stay safe. You can always call, (Y/N).”

With a brief goodbye, you wash your hands and leave, awkwardly waving at the small child who was the source of the knocking. Sitting down, you sigh, listening to the sound of air and propellers.

No sleep for you, you guess.

———————————————————————

When the plane lands and you rush off, you and Marc find the closest hotel and buy separate rooms.

Even after securing the room and stuffing a gun under your pillow, you still sleep lightly. A shattering sound wakes you, bright light from outside invading your eyes, and you curse under your breath as you clamber out of bed.

You slip out of your door and into Marc’s room, gun still gripped in your hand.

He’s sitting on the floor, head in his hands. A mirror is shattered.

“Are you gonna break more mirrors or can we start the day?” you ask. He raises a bottle.

Snatching it from him, you down the last of the fiery liquid and chuck the bottle. It lands somewhere on the ground behind you, brown glass joining the reflective shards on the tile.

He drunkenly laughs, looking up to where you stand.

Your hair is free and rustled, not like how you normally have it. Your hair is always braided or tied back, something he now realizes is a habit from your training.

There’s a gun in your hand, and he can see your finger on the trigger. Marc regrets waking you, partially out of guilt and partially because he’s once more been reminded that you’re a killer. Which reminds him that he’s a killer.

You’re just a much prettier killer. Much.

“Are you going to get up? Or are you going to stare at me like you want to fight me again?” you laugh. “Because it did not go so great for you last time-“

He waves a dismissive hand. “Yeah, yeah. ‘M gettin’ up,” he finally says, and you slip away, avoiding glass and heading back to your own room to dress for the day.

Light colors, thin fabrics. Anything to stave off the heat. Once you’re both ready, you and Marc head into the city.

You don’t mention the mysterious absence of Steven, who the vigilante is definitely suppressing. Said vigilante is too busy hunting down his target.

He shakes off the last bit of drunkenness as he leads you up a ladder, not really telling you where you’re going or why. It doesn’t bother you, per se, but you are curious as to how he knows where to go. Sometimes he glances at empty spaces, as if listening to something not quite there.

You have no time to ponder this strange behavior as you leap across rooftops and nimbly avoid obstacles that Marc barrels through.

Your question as to who you’re hunting down is answered when you see a group of men, with one being stabbed in the stomach right as you arrive. Great.

“Oh, shit,” Marc sighs. “You killed him? I needed to talk to that guy. About a dig sight.”

“I don’t think they can un-stab him,” you snort.

He nods. “True. Guess I’m gonna have to talk to you all instead.”

“You’re too late,” one of them growls. “You’re never gonna find Harrow.”

“That’s his name?” You audibly gag. “Eugh, that’s a shit name for a cult leader.”

The guy tosses his knife in the air, following it up by tracing the blade along the ground.

“Ooh,” Marc says. “What, are we dancin’? We fightin’? What are we gonna do?” You step back as one of them lunges, deciding to go easy on them and not use a weapon.

Slamming one against the wall is easy enough, though he gets up soon after and targets Marc instead. One of them, a kid, charges at you.

You disarm him and shove him on his ass, not wasting your time on a literal child. Whipping around, you grab the handle of a knife as it zooms past, a few inches past your shoulder.

“Seriously? Learn to aim,” you say to yourself as you toss the knife off the roof.

It’s going rather well for a street fight. Much more fun, albeit less challenging than any of your Red Room missions.

And then it all goes to shit.

Marc’s got a knife to a guy’s throat, but something changes. A brief moment of silence, and he slams the blunt handle on his head, hard enough for him to bleed.

You let him go to town fighting the other two, who are now much more scared of him. It’s only when he meets your gaze that you realize something is deeply wrong. The hairs on your neck rise.

That’s not Marc. Definitely not Steven.

Your suspicions are confirmed when he leaps from the roof and disappears into the crowd.

What the fuck?

You follow, sprinting down streets as you barely stay on his tail.

When you manage to catch up to Marc, or whoever, he’s staring down a cliff with two dead bodies on the ground. You don’t have to look to know that the third lies at the base of the steep drop.

“Marc? What the fuck just happened?” you demand.

He whirls around, fear in his eyes.

“I- I don’t know. That wasn’t me, or Steven. So what-”

The wind swirling interrupts him, and he stares off at a rusty car.

“And what is so interesting about the car that-”

“We have to find Harrow. What about the other gods?”

You furrow your brow. “What?”

A disembodied voice responds, “To signal with an audience with the gods is to risk their wrath-”

You’ve never pulled out a gun faster. Turning in circles, you find no source. No people, no tech. Your breath quickens, aiming the firearm at random.

“Okay, Marc?” you begin. “I’m all good with cults, and floating scarabs, and even some magic, but you are going to have to explain that voice before I start freaking out.”

The man sighs, glancing back to the air.

“I serve the Egyptian god Khonshu. I’m his… avatar.” The delusional nature of his statement is offset by how naturally he says it, so much so that you do a double-take.

“And you’re just telling me this now? Of course, of course, the first mission I go on after fighting a grape from space has Egyptian gods,” you hiss. “Don’t tell the public, Thor’s got plenty of fangirls that you don’t want.”

The voice sounds again. “I doubt they’d find the same appeal in me.”

You shrug, but when you turn in the direction it came from, you see it. And boy is it ugly.

An absurdly large bird skull, the body covered in mummification wrappings, and a large staff at his side.

“Cool. Cool-cool-cool. You were saying about talking to the other gods?” you mumble, trying to ignore the large bird thing.

“Yeah, what’s the worst that could happen?” Marc asks.

“Anger them enough and they’ll imprison me in stone,” the thing -Khonshu- says.

“That doesn’t sound too bad to me,” the man next to you says. You nod in agreement.

“You are very ugly,” you state bluntly.

Evidently unused to people disrespecting him, the god slams his staff on the ground.

“Not many mortals are allowed to even see my form, much less speak to me. It is a blessing.”

“Yes, well, I don’t feel very blessed.”

He turns his attention back to his avatar. “See how well you fare against Harrow without the protection of my healing armor.”

“All right, so what? Do you have any good ideas?”

“I have a bad one.” With that, he disappears.

You glance up, noticing the light dimming. You are met with a solar eclipse. So he can fully move the moon with no regard to its position or that the next eclipse was not for a good while? Huh.

Marc leads you down some stairs, past Khonshu as they talk.

“The gods all have avatars,” he explains. “They’re gathering now, but I don’t know…”

A wall begins to open itself, revealing a tunnel lined with glowing hieroglyphs. “... how to get there,” he finishes.

“I don’t fuck with small, dark, magic tunnels,” you say. “Besides, I don’t think I should join you.”

Marc smiles, visibly nervous. Resting a hand on his shoulder, you shrug.

“You’ll be fine, okay? Meet me here when you’re done, I will wait and see what I can learn about any leads.” It’s the nicest thing you’ve said to him, so he nods, steels his nerves, and heads down the tunnel. As soon as it shuts, you sigh.

“‘Egyptian mythology’,” you whisper to yourself as you type into a search bar. “I guess the black market is a good place to start.”

———————————————————————

You’re wandering through a marketplace when Marc finds you. The Red Room taught you to blend in perfectly, but he manages to spot you when he hears a loud laugh.

In your hand are a drink and a tangerine, which you may or may not have stolen.

“Can you find anything about Senfu’s sarcophagus?” he asks.

“Ouch, no ‘Hi’?” you tease before obliging. As you search with Stark tech assisting you, you glance at Marc. “It didn’t go well.”

“No,” he agrees. “They brought in Harrow, called me crazy, and denied my request.”

“Hmm, some council.” You finally break into a smile, holding your phone flat and projecting your findings. “Mogart. Some black market collector that is conveniently… 24 miles away.”

It takes a while to double-check your intel and find a boat, and the sun has set by the time you’re onboard. Sitting on the end, away from the other groups, Marc watches you, observing the cheerful passengers. A few young girls dance to the loud music, just enjoying the night as you look away.

“You know, I know almost nothing about you,” Marc says.

“I could say the same about you. Other than the file.”

He doesn’t balk at the mention of a debriefing on him, just smirks. “Yeah? Well, you know I work for an Egyptian god, I’ve got a British man living in my head, and the basics. All I know is your name and your-” He gestures at you. “-previous job.”

“You don’t want to know about the Red Room, I promise.” Your smile is a bit bittersweet. “It’s not pretty.”

“My past isn’t either.”

You hum. “The Red Room makes child assassins,” you say, avoiding too much detail. “And… I was cycled through the Black Widow programme three times. I was good at it, too.” That’s all you give up, gauging his reaction.

His gaze softens, not with pity, but with empathy. “How young were you? When you started- The training, I mean.”

The question manages to cause a lump in your throat. This is why you don’t like thinking about it.

You soften the truth when you manage to speak. “I don’t remember a time before it.”

A hand rests on yours. And the two of you sit in silence for a bit, quiet understanding lingering.

“And you?” you say, blinking away the small amount of water building in your eyes. “Did you always work for the bird?”

“No. But I was fighting for a while before I met him. ‘ve done plenty of horrible shit in my life even without him asking me to.”

“And I’ve done horrible things to get out of the Red Room. We have something in common.”

Marc shakes his head. “No, you… you’re out. Hell, you’re working with the Avengers. You’ve made up for it.”

If he knew what you’d done, he wouldn’t be so quick to absolve you. You brush that thought away.

“Well,” you begin, leaning back on the seat. “It’s never too late to start.”

The boat reaches the banks before he can respond or be further distracted by the rings on your hands. Or how your body twists and curves as you quickly jump onto dry land.

“Got an alibi?” you ask, watching Marc stash the duffel bag under the dock.

He hums, shrugging. “A few. Rufino Estrada,” he decides. “What about you?”

“I’m going in as myself. Obviously, not an Avenger, but…” You tie your jacket around your waist, allowing your t-shirt to hide many of your weapons.

On your belt, there are two guns and a handful of knives, but Marc’s eyes are drawn to your wrists. Gauntlets flicker red, electricity in them crackling as you check your weapons.

He speaks after you fire an experimental blast into the ground. “And what’s our story here?”

“You hired me as security, and you are in the business for this sarcophagus. You’re a reputable antiques buyer who previously had ties to Dreykov, the head of the Red Room. I’ve already sent that information ahead.” You flash a charming smile to the man, who still seems a bit on edge. “Mogart made a few small deals with him, so he knows how serious the Widows are. It’s a perfect alibi.”

You two approach a large track, with men jousting under bright lights as music blares from the speakers.

Schooling your expression as you approach a man, you tilt your chin up.

“Where is your boss?” you ask, voice much darker and accented than usual.

“Ma’am-“

“I sent a message earlier. We’re here for the sarcophagus.” The man immediately nods and rushes off as you lead Marc forward. “Don’t drop the act,” you whisper. “Let’s go.”

The guy introduces himself as Bek and guides you toward the track. “He’s excited to meet you. He hasn’t been able to speak to any of the infamous Black Widows after the Red Room fell.”

They were scattered across every continent on Earth, rebuilding their lives. Of course he wouldn’t find them.

“Excuse me a moment. Mr. Mogart will be with you shortly,” Bek says, slipping away.

You lean against the railing, the Widow Bites on your wrists glowing red at the movement.

“So what?” Marc starts. “This joker just puts on El-Mermah games in his backyard for fun?”

You click your tongue. “Ah, who knows? Rich people are weird.”

“Sir, Agent. Come in.” The man, dressed in a dark red robe, greets you with a more than relaxed attitude. “I hear you’re interested in my collection?”

Marc nods. “I hear you have Senfu’s sarcophagus.”

“And who told you that?” This is tedious, you think to yourself. Diplomacy and bargaining, it makes you want to heave.

“The best in the business.” Marc gestures to you.

Mogart seems convinced by this, and you begin to head toward a group of buildings.

“I hope you understand this is more than a collection to me. Preserving history is a responsibility I take very seriously.”

“No one asked you to do that,” you comment mildly, baring your teeth in a sinister grin when he frowns at you. “Yet, here we are.”

Mogart brushes off the thinly veiled insult with a chuckle. “I forgot how deep Widows cut,” he jokes. “How was the old boss before he died? May he rest in peace.”

“Pieces,” you correct, struggling to speak well of the man that previously controlled every aspect of your life. “Helicopter explosion. He… He died powerful and influential. What he would’ve wanted.”

Mogart doesn’t push further, thankfully, coming to a stop in front of a glass pyramid.

“If I may ask, why such interest in Senfu in particular?”

You have a fake reason, but he gestures for Marc to answer. Shit.

“I think that… I just think I would love to take a look,” he says. He’s confident, but it’s an awkward pause.

Mogart concedes. “Funny man. Feel free.”

As you enter the area housing said tomb, you glance at Marc.

“You need to let Steven out. He knows more than either of us and we cannot afford to blow this,” you whisper.

Marc scoffs. “Not a chance. All right, what do you see?”

“The burial practices,” you begin, recalling your research from earlier. “They’re in line with the Studenwachen texts.”

“The what?”

You roll your eyes, exasperated. “Apparently I’m the only one who studied. It means it’s real. But all of this is just instructions to guide the dead.”

“So?”

“No locations indicated.”

Marc glances up at the ceiling, likely listening to Steven. He turns back to you, voice hushed.

“Ok, will you give me a minute? I gotta talk to Steven. Keep him occupied.”

You nod, slipping away with a sigh of relief.

“Mr. Estrada needs some time alone,” you announce, watching said man ramble to himself. “He’s… praying.”

This doesn’t stop Bek, who storms in and grabs Marc’s arm. On instinct, the ex-Marine disarms him, also giving up your cover.

Guns are trained on you in an instant, and you raise your hands.

“Marc!” you shout. He spots you, and for a second you think he’s gonna shoot the guy and leave you to fend for yourself. Instead, he curses and gives up the gun.

“Do you really think I’m an idiot?” Mogart asks. “Get on your knees.”

Marc obliges, and the robed man sneers at you. “I really thought you were a possible ally.” A gun shoved against your neck forces you forward. “I used to be Dreykov’s customer, a friend, even.”

“You think I’d want anything to do with the man who ruined my life?” you laugh. “Dreykov was a coward. And I wish I’d been the one to kill him.”

“Hey-“ Marc steps in. “Take a look inside the sarcophagus. There’s somethin’ really, really big.”

Before Mogart can look, Bek speaks to him in French. You freeze.

“It appears we have a concerned third party here,” he says. “Get up.”

“Harrow,” you mouth to Marc, trying to find the zealot. He stands with two men, leaning on his staff.

“Whatever they’ve told you, I’m sure I can offer something much more tangible.” The scarab floats above his hand. “Why settle for a clue when you can have the treasure?”

Arguing breaks out as Marc snaps at Harrow, who simply turns to each of you. “You all have more in common than you know.”

“(Y/N), you think that ignoring the past will keep it from catching up to you. That missions can give you a purpose, but it’s closing in.”

You’re so taken aback by him knowing your name and reading you so well that you don’t hear another word.

“Do it. Summon the suit,” Khonshu says, appearing on a rooftop. “Give them what they deserve.”

You exchange a glance with Marc, subtly nodding to your gun, and then to the distracted guards.

Meanwhile, Harrow calls on his staff, using it to destroy the sarcophagus. By the time the cultish leader is gone, so is Marc.

Panic starts immediately, and you grin despite being surrounded.

“Well, boys. Looks like you’re in trouble.”

Mogart and Bek run as Marc starts attacking, throwing down curved blades as you grab your gun. Shooting down three guards is easy enough, but more are firing from the track.

“Here!” Marc covers you with his cape, blocking the gunfire in a way you don’t understand.

You catch your breath, looking up where his eyes glow through the suit.

“Can you buy me some time?”

“Absolutely.”

You run to the tomb, grabbing the tattered fabric. When you turn around, you come face to face with Bek.

Thinking fast, you throw shards of glass at his face and kick him in the stomach. He grabs a knife as you dodge his attacks, ducking in time for his knife to land in the mummy.

You take the advantage, slamming the grip of your gun into his nose. He tosses you away to grab the knife, but as he turns around, you fire off a single shot.

A quick death, it could be worse.

Running to the track where Marc is pinned down, you jump the fence. There’s multiple javelins stabbed through him, and you shoot a rider with another ready.

As you aim for the rest, however, you take a blow to the head. You hit the dirt, trying to rise as your vision blurs.

You can hear hoofbeats pounding in your head, only increasing the incoming headache. He’s got a javelin.

“Fuck that hurts,” you mutter, pushing yourself into a sitting position with your gauntlet trained on the figure. Even as Mogart heads for Marc, you don’t waver, especially when he sticks out the weapon to attack you at the last second.

Marc tackles you out of the way, enveloping you as he rolls to safety and tosses a last knife. It doesn’t miss.

Sighing in relief, you let your head flop onto his shoulder as you try to fight off the ache. He pats you on the back as his wounds mend under the suit. A luxury you don’t have.

“There you go. That’s it, deep breaths,” he mumbles, not really sure when you got comfortable enough with each other to sit like this.

He tries his best not to focus on the weight of you leaning on him, trusting him enough to rest, safely tucked in his arms. It feels nice, to have someone trust him like this. Marc hasn’t had that in a long time.

He coughs a bit and you pull away, leaving a cold, exposed feeling where your touch was. Shakily standing, you observe the bodies scattered on the sand.

“We should keep moving,” you say softly. “Don’t want them to catch up.”

Marc can only nod as he fights to keep from reaching for you.

“Yeah. We’ll keep moving.”

[fantasticarcadefan]

Teyvat and the Ascended Pt.2: Discovering yourself

Warning: Religious worship, bad descriptions.

STC - Skin tone color

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

You didn't know what to say. Too much was going through your mind. Who are the ascended? Why do they refer to you as a god? A million more questions race through your head before a voice calls out to you. "Your Grace?" It was Alexi's voice. "Y-Yes, Alexi?" You respond, unsure of what he asked. "Are you okay? We're not going to hurt you." Alexi says in a rough yet soft tone. A million thoughts go through your mind, unsure of what to say. Do you tell them the truth? Do you lie to them? Do you make up a story? You eventually decide that, due to the ability to transport yourself elsewhere, it was better to admit the truth before you find yourself in a worse position than in Teyvat. "Look, I-I think you got the wrong person. I don't know anything about the "Ascended Species" or me guiding you in person." You say, bracing yourself for a mixture of emotional, psychological, or physical abuse. Alexi looks at you and then smiles, "I'm afraid that's not the case my lord. The soul seeker was set to your soul, and in addition, we're passing through a nebula right now, and usually when we do,we often find ourselves going through what is known as turbulence. And ever since you've arrived, the storm has calmed down." Alexi explains to you. "And it makes sense for you to not know of the Ascended. After all, you're only made aware of the world you'll be descending into, with you starting to get visions of the other worlds you created later on from your past."

You're shocked. How are you supposed to react to that. One day, you're running from hunters in Teyvat who're claiming that you're an imposter, the next, your soul, if what they say is true, is abducted by aliens from various species who're claiming that you made each of their civilizations. But another question came into mind. Are you able to get home? And how many other lives have you abandoned when you descended onto each of their worlds? "Crowner of Champions." The beetle alien says,breaking you out of your existential crisis, getting your attention. "My name is Kul-Tan of the Backatta species, representing the Legion of Hantakka. My people and I pride ourselves in being able to find worthy opponents in all fields, originally in just strength, but your descent into our world showed that there are other ways of combat. And I couldn't help but wonder what great beasts you've slayed at your new creation!" Kul-Tan says, ignorant about what you've been facing on Teyvat. "It's not as glo-" You say before stopping mid sentence as you are looking at your skin.

Instead of the (STC) on your skin, your body's instead a mix of a bright white, a void black, a gleaming gold, and a shimmering purple all jump across your body. "Wha-,ho-, the he- what?" You say, unable to form a word about your body's situation. "And that's another reason we see you as our divine creator." Alexi says, slightly amused at your situation. "The creator, you," Alexi says, as he points at you. "Have been known to be both the kindest of souls, devoting time to help those that need it, both before and after your discovery on each of our worlds, and a nightmare to those incurring your wrath." Alexi continues. "The white and dark energies, I assume, are part of your emotions and part of the balance of the galaxy, what the golden and purplish energies represent, however, may be representative of the balance of the world you descended upon." Alexi says, hoping to help you understand. If you had to guess, the golden energy represented Celestia, and the purple energy represented the abyss. "I wonder," you tell yourself, if I knew about this sooner, would the hunt for me have never occurred?" You ask yourself as you get out of Mary's arms and wander the room while you start to think what this could do. After all, if that was true, then you could reveal this form to the Teyvatians and hopefully convince them that you're their actual god, or at least cause enough debate in Teyvat that the hunt could be cancelled or postponed for a while then- "Your Grace?"

You hear Mary call out your title in a concerned tone. As you turn to face her, you can see a mixture of horror, concern, sadness, and rage on the crew's faces. "What do you mean, the hunt for you would have never occurred if you knew about that form?" Mary asks in a cautious and worried tone.

[alltheyoungmoons]

The Gift - pt. II

G - WIP - Part I/? - 1k words - ATYD timeline compliant.

“You’re going to help me?” Lily’s pink lips stretched into a wide smile, her hopes restored.

“Of course, anything to make our Moony happy”, Sirius nodded, chivalrously. “So, let’s start with the things you want to avoid? Easier if they’re out of the way.”

“Alright, so: definitely no sweets, chocolate or cigarettes,” she eyed him severely at the latter, but with a smirk “…he’ll get enough of those as is. No more hand-knitted items either, I just don’t have the time, even if I enchanted my needles to do it on their own - and I’ve been gifting him those since second year anyway…” she kept reasoning out loud, keeping track on her fingers. Sirius was nodding along, realising at that moment how long and how well she knew Remus. She probably was the only other person in the world who knew him as well as Sirius did…almost. Sirius relished in the thought that he would always be number one in that regard “…and no more studying supplies! I’m looking for something that will last far beyond school.”

“Ok, that’s a great starting point” Sirius agreed. “So - books are always a safe choice with Moony, but let’s just keep them as a last resort for now, if you really want to impress him. If we don’t figure out anything better.”

“I agree… he really doesn’t need to do any more reading until the end of school!” she chuckled, “I don’t know how he manages, it’s a miracle he’s still got perfect eyesight!” She shook her head fondly. 

Sirius chuckled at that, too, thinking of all the times he caught Remus with his face so buried in a book you’d think he was snogging it. 

“Right? You’d think he’d be half as blind as James at least, by now” he shrugged, smiling, lowering his voice considerably “I guess being a dark creature has his perks after all…did you know he can see in the dark?”

“He cannot!” Her surprise poking through her whisper.

“Oh yes” Sirius nodded. He was now swinging back and forth on the back legs of his chair. “Caught him strolling in the dark many times - the maniac. First time he gave me a right fright, too."

Lily shook her head disbelievingly - for all she knew about Remus, she must’ve never inquired on the extent of his lycanthropy. 

“Speaking of James,“ Lily grinned “have you ever tried his glasses on? He took them off the other day while we-“ her whole face changed to red “Anyway I put them on, and..” She blinked slowly, leaving her facial expression to convey the sheer shock of this discovery. 

“Of course I’ve tried them on!” Honestly, who did the woman think he was. “Once, in first year, we bet who could last longer, me with his glasses or him without. They made me so sick I took them off after a few minutes, but of course he couldn't see I had, so I just waited until he admitted he couldn’t find our dorm room door to go down to breakfast.” 

Lily rolled her apple green eyes, but she was smiling. 

“It’s incredible how thin the lenses are, too,” she mused, “Muggle glasses for such a prescription would be as thick as butterbeer glass bottoms! A kid in my primary school class had them - they made his eyes so small!”

He tried to imagine James with such a contraption on his nose, struggling to hold in his barking laughter - he was terrified of Pince. He was also quite uneasy in libraries still, but Lily’s presence made it much more bearable. 

“So, books aside then…” Lily went back to wondering what to get their friend. “Isn’t there maybe another magical contraption that could work? Like that compass?”

Sirius knew she was asking him because, being the heir to one of the oldest and most traditionalist “Pureblood” clans in the country, he was basically the resident expert in magical paraphernalia. He felt his thoughts starting to race, raking through the images of the countless useless knick-knacks sitting in display cases in Grimmauld Place, Kreacher polishing them with the care reserved for an infant... Though now, being surrounded by books, it was hard to concentrate on any other object - the more he tried to avoid thinking of them, the more it felt they were the key to solving their problem. Surely the library stored some sort of catalogue…? 

“And to think that when I met you, at any mention of reading you’d have squirmed away as if you’d been chased by a Boggart” Sirius had teased the taller boy as they made their way into Flourish & Blotts, that past December, just before- “Yeah” Remus gave him a sly smile “You’ve created a monster.”

Sirius felt as if he was struck by lightning and slammed the front legs of his chair on the floor. He was grinning madly, and Lily was staring at him. Everything had fallen into place.

“Oh spill it, you peeve me so when you act like this!”

Sirius didn’t have time to argue back - not only was this a great idea, better-than-perfect even, but he was sitting across the only other person who could truly understand the impact of it. 

“So you know how dear ol’ Remus is always reading…”

“Yes, we’ve established that, but we said-“

“But when we first met him,” he interrupted “he didn’t. He couldn’t. I know you know about it, you made him that invisible thing in second year.”

“It’s not invisible, it’s transparent.” She corrected. A note of embarrassment then started in her voice “But yeah… I knew about your spell, too. It was dead impressive, still is, to be honest, but he couldn’t use it during the summer, you know.”

He didn’t know, though, he hadn’t thought about that, and of course Remus had never brought it up. Sirius silently cursed his purebloodness. 

“Right, so, if you were able to turn that plastic sheet into a reading aid…”

(He hoped he pronounced “plastic” correctly. He had mispronounced it once and Mary didn’t let him live it down for weeks.)

“…then you could do the same with glass! Glasses!” Lily was beaming, getting the suggestion right away. The girl was truly smart as a whip.

“Reading glasses” Sirius nodded, grinning wildly. He knew, this was going to work. 

[arealphrooblem]

Surrender Prompt Fills #1

I love the voluntary surrender prompts by @whither-wander-whump so much I decided to attempt them all. This is the first one.

- a character doing it because they have no choice. They’re too tired to run anymore. They just want to get it over with, so they hold out their hands for the chains. What else can they do?

“Quite a merry chase you’ve led me on.”

The villain stepped out from the tree-line, looking impeccable and untouchable despite their complaints.

The hero paid them no mind, keeping their gaze on the sunset blazing before them. Their last free sunset. It spilled across the sky in brilliant pinks and golds and dark blue undertones that made the hero itch to paint.

Not that they would ever paint again. They still imagined it.

“I didn’t expect you to lead me here. Do you think I won’t attack you in a public park?”

The Hero did not bother to point out that the park was empty, that the streets had been declared unsafe while the Villain relentlessly searched for the Hero. That part of the reason for this surrender was to give innocent people their lives back.

“Can you wait until it's over?” they asked instead.

The Villain gave them a dubious look, caught off guard. And no wonder — for weeks the Hero had stayed just out of their reach, pulled so many hail marys and deus ex machinas to keep their freedom. Of course they took the hero’s surrender with a grain of salt.

But then the Villain did something surprising of their own and sat down next to Hero on the old wooden park bench.

“It is especially stunning this evening,” they offered. “I can tell you’re itching to paint it. Tell me, was it worth your freedom?”

“You’re dying to know why I stopped running, aren’t you,” the Hero said, snorting.

“I do find it rather baffling how much effort you’ve spent planning and upkeeping your escape only to stop now for no discernible reason.”

“There’s a reason.”

Hero could feel the weight of the Villain’s side-eyed stare, dissecting them, trying to break them into logical pieces.

“Are you going to elaborate or are you going to keep me in suspense?” they asked.

“Will you shut up and watch the sunset?” the hero shot back.

“You don’t actually need to be quiet to watch a sunset, there’s no auditory component to —”

Hero kicked the Villain in the shin. The Villain shut up. In fact, the Villain stayed blessedly quiet as the sky slowly darkened, the brilliant fire of the sun fading into the soft hues of the night. Even as the moon glowed into view, the Villain did not initiate any capture.

“I’m tired,” they confessed to the warm, breezy night air. “I haven’t slept more than three hours a night for weeks, I barely eat. I can’t stop and enjoy anything because I’m always moving to stay one step ahead of you. I can’t do it anymore. Don’t you get tired of chasing me?”

“I didn’t at first,” the Villain replied softly. “I liked the challenge. Now it’s tedious and exhausting.” They sighed. “I don’t sleep well either.”

The Hero took one last long look at the fading horizon, the tiny pinpricks of stars twinkling into view, before turning towards the Villain with their hands held out.

“I suppose it’s time we finally got some rest” they said.

The Villain gave them a long, searching look. In fact, they looked more disturbed by the Hero’s obedience than victorious. Almost mournful.

Meanwhile, the Hero felt strangely at peace. The fear of discovery had haunted them, hunted them, a constant baying of hounds at the edge of their thoughts. But now the worst has happened. Now there was nothing to be afraid of anymore.

“Well,” the Hero prompted. “They aren’t going to put themselves on.”

The Villain twitched, as if shaking a stray thought. Then they reached into their jacket pocket for the cuffs. Made of platinum, the cuffs looked like flat, thick bracelets, but they each contained a tracker, a tiny, hypodermic needle that injected power suppressants every twelve hours, and the ability to produce an electric shock strong enough to stop a heart beat.

The Hero did not flinch when the Villain latched the cuffs onto their wrists with a reverent tenderness they certainly did not use the first time.

“If I had any other way . . .” They said haltingly. “If I didn’t need you . . .”

The unspoken promise hung in the air between them, and despite everything the Villain had put them through, the thought behind such a promise was sincerely reassuring.

“I know,” the Hero said softly.

The Villain still held onto their wrists, thumb skating back and forth over the delicate skin at the edge of the cuff.

“Perhaps I will take you to see another sunset,” they murmured. “Perhaps I will let you paint me one.”

The Hero almost believed them. “Perhaps,” they said simply, and stood up. “Let’s go.”

The Villain threw one last look at the moon, as if they too thought it was their last time, before  guiding Hero out of the park with a hand on the small of their back.